The Queen and the Nobody Boy by Barbara Else

this. It smelled of fatty hamburgers, which he could see were decorated with tiny strips of browny-green. Was it meant to be lettuce? If so, it hadn’t grown in fresh air and water, like the vegetables in the gardens of the Grand Palace.
    Murgott cocked his head, one hand on Hodie’s shoulder, the other on the Queen’s. In Um’Binnian accents, customers were saying things like, “Not bad hot coffee, considering it taste remarkably like cold mud.” And, “I chose tea – urrggh . Never again.”
    Scraps of other conversations floated around. ‘Kidnap Princessa Lu’nedda?’ somebody said. “I thought rebels were clever people. Rebels are fools!”
    â€œQuiet!” another voice shouted. “There might be government informer!”
    â€œWhat is gov-ing-mint informer?”
    â€œA spy, you idiot!”
    â€œShould we also watch for rebel information-er?”
    â€œYes, indeed, because fools are dangerous.”
    Murgott spoke up, pretending-jolly. “Is there a table here for a thirsty traveller who was also second-in-command on the pirate ship the Double Cross ?”
    â€œYou are far from home on very stormy night,” said a thick-set Um’Binnian with a half-eaten hamburger. “Are boys part of pirate crew? Or – ha ha! – are they what you will scramble for your dinner!”
    â€œWe is on a school trip.” Sibilla simpered the way people often did when they first met her. (Hodie had seen her turn away and stick a finger down her throat, and Lady Helen scold her for it.) “But I’d rather be home wiv my new puppy.”
    A scrawny lady with a suntan smiled. She had a big blue coat on the back of her chair. “What sort of puppy, dear?”
    â€œI don’t have it yet.” Sibilla wiped her nose. “But when I’m home, I’m going to grizzle like stink until I get one.”
    A man sitting next to the suntanned lady laughed and flicked at the little Queen’s cap.
    â€œOi.” Murgott showed his fist, still pretend-jolly. “These are my boys. If there’s roughing up to do, I do it. Orright?”
    The customers chuckled and went back to curling their lips at the coffee and tea, and jumping at the bangs and pounding of the gale outside. If you asked Hodie, Sibilla had just had a lucky escape.
    â€œDon’t overdo it,” he muttered.
    An explosion of gravel hit the roof. Hodie startled. So did the Queen.
    A skinny man in a check beret grinned at them. “Don’t worry. Wind hurls around bones of little boys who cheek Emperor Prowdd’on. You are Fontanian? I recognise accent?”
    Murgott pushed Sibilla and Hodie to a table against the wall. “Just a pair of travel-sick kids. Why I said I’d travel with ’em, I’ll never know.”
    The skinny man scratched under his beret. “Terrible thing, children travelling in Stones of Beyond. There is not weather report in Fontania?”
    A man in a big red scarf let out a chuckle. “Fontania? Nobody governs there in any manner. They rely on two very large chickens that never lay eggs.”
    More laughter filled the canteen. “They think magic will save them. Tired old magic against Um’Binnian machines!” Billows of laughter and more chatter.
    â€œHave you volunteered for army yet?”
    â€œI will wait till Emperor makes me.”
    â€œFor crying-in-your-tea, watch for government informer.”
    â€œShut up and have sip of stone-cold urrggh .”
    Hodie heard Sibilla take a shuddery scared breath. But she turned to Murgott, blinked and did a buck-tooth smile. “Uncle, can I please ’ave an ’ot chocolate?”
    A man at the next table glanced at Hodie under his hat brim. “You are also from Fontania?”
    Hodie shrugged and pulled his fringe over his eyes. Luckily, just then a waiter came around. Murgott gave an order for pies, a ginger beer and two hot chocolates.