keep a secret but because she didn’t think she could explain without seeming potty. Floating and gills and hummingbird hands fell within the accepted realms of Drearcliff strangeness, but Paule’s peculiarity was excessive even by School standards.
‘Someone mentioned Rapunzel,’ Amy said weakly.
‘Ah-hah,’ said Frecks. ‘She of the upstairs dungeon. The mists clear!’
‘When the weird sisters got to the tower, a rope ladder was let down from an upper window,’ said Light Fingers. ‘There’s no other way in. The hamper was hooked to the ladder and pulled up. I didn’t see who was doing the pulling…’
‘It
must
have been the Hooded Conspirators,’ enthused Frecks. ‘If they’ve got Kali, she’s in the tower!’
‘Crumpets,’ exclaimed Amy.
‘I don’t see why they
haven’t
spirited her away or done her in,’ said Frecks. ‘They’re running a fearful risk sticking close to School. Perhaps Kali’s being held for ransom and Swan’s keeping mum?’
‘Miss Kaye said Mr Chattopadhyay is coming down tomorrow. Perhaps he’s bringing a princess’s price with him. Kali’s weight in gold coins or blood rubies.’
‘
I
wouldn’t cross Kali’s dad,’ said Frecks. ‘He’s not the sort to take Hooded Conspiracies with a song and a philosophical laugh. He’s the sort who hunts down enemies and garrottes them, their children, their parents, their friends and their pets. Come tomorrow, I shouldn’t care to be a white mouse owned by the sweetheart of a cousin of a Hooded Conspirator!’
‘We can’t wait for tomorrow,’ said Amy. ‘Mr Chattopadhyay will be too late. Even if he takes the earliest train from Birmingham, Joxer won’t get him to School till well after dawn. And that’s when Kali will be got rid of. The third dawn!’
‘How do you know this?’ asked Light Fingers.
‘I feel it in my moth antennae,’ Amy explained. ‘Really, I do. You’ll have to take it on trust.’
That hung there in the cell for the briefest flicker.
‘Good enough for me,’ said Frecks. ‘The word of a Moth Club girl is not to be doubted!’
Frecks stuck out her paw, which Amy gripped. Light Fingers grasped their enlocked hands.
It was already getting dark. Girls were drifting towards the Refectory.
‘We can’t hare off now,’ said Frecks. ‘If we’re marked absent at Supper they’ll raise the whole School after us. It’ll be torture sitting and eating as if nothing were amiss, but we’ve got to be valiant. After nosh, we fly!’
XVI: An Upstairs Dungeon
T HE MOON WAS just past full, the night sky clear. Wet shingles shimmered and tidal pools reflected constellations as the Moth Club – in full costume – crept towards the tower.
Being off School Grounds at any time was a Major Infraction. At this hour it was probably cause for expulsion and disgrace. Their cots were stuffed with pillows, in case Wicked Wyke sprang one of her occasional inspections.
‘Should we call “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair”?’ ventured Frecks. ‘Might give Kali heart to know rescue is at hand.’
Amy – Kentish Glory – shook her head. Stealth was the order of the evening.
The three girls blithely passed Danger! and Keep Out! signs, and climbed the rocks and rubble piled around the base of the broken tower. The footing was unsure. Rubbery, slippery seaweed-coated broken, tilted surfaces. Deceptive pools were populated by scuttling crustaceans with angry eyes on stalks. Up close, there was more of the tower than Amy had thought. What had sheared away with the crumbling cliff was the top of a fortified lookout post, built when Somerset expected invading Welsh warriors any minute. They would have had names like Dai the Dreadful, Evans the Eviscerator and Bloodthirsty Blodwyn.
Like Rapunzel’s upstairs dungeon, the tower had no ground-level entrance – and no windows for the first thirty feet or so. Leaning inland at a greater angle than the Tower of Pisa, it was a wonder the remnant
‘Someone mentioned Rapunzel,’ Amy said weakly.
‘Ah-hah,’ said Frecks. ‘She of the upstairs dungeon. The mists clear!’
‘When the weird sisters got to the tower, a rope ladder was let down from an upper window,’ said Light Fingers. ‘There’s no other way in. The hamper was hooked to the ladder and pulled up. I didn’t see who was doing the pulling…’
‘It
must
have been the Hooded Conspirators,’ enthused Frecks. ‘If they’ve got Kali, she’s in the tower!’
‘Crumpets,’ exclaimed Amy.
‘I don’t see why they
haven’t
spirited her away or done her in,’ said Frecks. ‘They’re running a fearful risk sticking close to School. Perhaps Kali’s being held for ransom and Swan’s keeping mum?’
‘Miss Kaye said Mr Chattopadhyay is coming down tomorrow. Perhaps he’s bringing a princess’s price with him. Kali’s weight in gold coins or blood rubies.’
‘
I
wouldn’t cross Kali’s dad,’ said Frecks. ‘He’s not the sort to take Hooded Conspiracies with a song and a philosophical laugh. He’s the sort who hunts down enemies and garrottes them, their children, their parents, their friends and their pets. Come tomorrow, I shouldn’t care to be a white mouse owned by the sweetheart of a cousin of a Hooded Conspirator!’
‘We can’t wait for tomorrow,’ said Amy. ‘Mr Chattopadhyay will be too late. Even if he takes the earliest train from Birmingham, Joxer won’t get him to School till well after dawn. And that’s when Kali will be got rid of. The third dawn!’
‘How do you know this?’ asked Light Fingers.
‘I feel it in my moth antennae,’ Amy explained. ‘Really, I do. You’ll have to take it on trust.’
That hung there in the cell for the briefest flicker.
‘Good enough for me,’ said Frecks. ‘The word of a Moth Club girl is not to be doubted!’
Frecks stuck out her paw, which Amy gripped. Light Fingers grasped their enlocked hands.
It was already getting dark. Girls were drifting towards the Refectory.
‘We can’t hare off now,’ said Frecks. ‘If we’re marked absent at Supper they’ll raise the whole School after us. It’ll be torture sitting and eating as if nothing were amiss, but we’ve got to be valiant. After nosh, we fly!’
XVI: An Upstairs Dungeon
T HE MOON WAS just past full, the night sky clear. Wet shingles shimmered and tidal pools reflected constellations as the Moth Club – in full costume – crept towards the tower.
Being off School Grounds at any time was a Major Infraction. At this hour it was probably cause for expulsion and disgrace. Their cots were stuffed with pillows, in case Wicked Wyke sprang one of her occasional inspections.
‘Should we call “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair”?’ ventured Frecks. ‘Might give Kali heart to know rescue is at hand.’
Amy – Kentish Glory – shook her head. Stealth was the order of the evening.
The three girls blithely passed Danger! and Keep Out! signs, and climbed the rocks and rubble piled around the base of the broken tower. The footing was unsure. Rubbery, slippery seaweed-coated broken, tilted surfaces. Deceptive pools were populated by scuttling crustaceans with angry eyes on stalks. Up close, there was more of the tower than Amy had thought. What had sheared away with the crumbling cliff was the top of a fortified lookout post, built when Somerset expected invading Welsh warriors any minute. They would have had names like Dai the Dreadful, Evans the Eviscerator and Bloodthirsty Blodwyn.
Like Rapunzel’s upstairs dungeon, the tower had no ground-level entrance – and no windows for the first thirty feet or so. Leaning inland at a greater angle than the Tower of Pisa, it was a wonder the remnant
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