Ordinary Joe and the Mark of Four

Chapter Chapter Nine



Joe sat in his room, trying to ignore the dolls, wondering why Mudrot warned him not to eat. The pathetic creature had refused to answer any of his questions and left quickly once Joe was inside the room. He pulled back the heavy curtains across the window but the glass was frosted over and he could not even tell if it was day or night.

He closed his eyes. He was still dizzy and a mild ache had settled into his muscles. Maybe it was the hunger. How long was it since he’d eaten? The horrible plants had gobbled up his crisps and he had missed breakfast thanks to the Wytches. He had food in his coat, and as strange as Mr Zhang’s supplies were, they were better than nothing. He decided to find his clothes.

He forced himself up and tried the door, expecting it to be locked, but the handle turned easily and he stepped out into the hallway.

The palace was deserted. Beautifully carved statues ran along the walls, some which looked human but most of creatures Joe had never seen before. He was sure they were made of ice, but though they glittered with frost, they were warm and dry.

His heels tapped loudly on the tiled floor and an echo rang to the high ceiling, but still no-one came. When he reached the end of the hallway he decided to call out, listening to his voice repeat and fade into the distance. No-one answered.

He came to a circular balcony, with more hallways branching off and a long curving staircase leading down. A large frost covered window made of intricately shaped panes of glass rose from the ground floor to the ceiling, and on the opposite wall hung an enormous portrait of the Queen. She was staring at him, a cold smile on her lips. Joe shivered and looked away. Where was everyone?

Leaning over the banister he saw two pig-guards each side of a set of large white doors. They were fast asleep and snoring in long, slurping grunts. The doors probably led outside, and though the idea of escaping gave Joe a rush of excitement, he was still hungry. He had to find his clothes first, and besides, how far would he get alone? He scowled. He hated to admit it, but he wished Kinga was with him.

Ignoring the stairs he headed along another hallway, opening doors on each side and peering into rooms similar to his own; all white, with frosted windows and creepy staring dolls. He quickly closed the doors again.

At the end of the hall was a larger door framed in a beautifully carved archway. Unlike the others, this one was locked. He bent to look through the keyhole, but could only see darkness.

“Cannot go in there,” said a voice. Startled, he jumped back against the door. Mudrot stood halfway along the corridor watching him uneasily. Joe let out a sigh of relief,

“You scared me to death!” he said. Mudrot looked around, as if frightened someone would hear them.

“Queen’s private room,” he whispered, “No-one is allowed in there.”

Joe walked up to him,

“Why not?” Mudrot shook his head and grimaced,

“Mustn’t talk to you. Get into big trouble. Go back to your room.” He walked backwards, urging Joe to follow, “Please!”

“Why did you tell me not to eat the food,” Joe said. Mudrot’s face darkened,

“Not safe,” he said.

“Well, I didn’t eat it anyway, so that’s okay.” He remembered the food in his coat. “Do you know where my clothes are?”

Mudrot wasn’t listening. He had turned to one of the ice statues and, even though he was the most miserable creature Joe had ever seen, managed to look even sadder. It was a statue of a creature like Mudrot though this one was a girl, and like the others dotted around the Queen’s halls, it’s face was fixed in a look of terror.

“Who’s that?” Joe asked. Mudrot said nothing, letting his head fall. He gave a long weary sigh. “Why do they all look so scared?” Joe prodded the statue and Mudrot grabbed his hand,

“Not touch!” he said, and dropped his gaze, releasing his grip, “I am sorry. I did not mean to be angry with the chosen one. It is just…” His gaze travelled back to the statue and grew sorrowful, “She was a good friend, and brave. Like you.”

“I’m not brave!” Joe said, remembering his escape from the hound, leaving his friends alone with the giant. Mudrot gave him a puzzled look,

“Not brave? But you are the bearer of four! You will sacrifice all to save the worlds! No-one is braver!” Joe grabbed the creature and shook him,

“What do you mean?” Mudrot pulled free, alarmed,

“You do not know? But it is foretold. Every child knows the story of the Chosen One. You are the bearer of four, returned from the land of Shades to oppose the Dark Invader and unite the four.”

“What Dark Invader? What are the four? Why won’t anyone tell me anything!” Mudrot looked horrified and then a look of pity crossed his face,

“I thought you knew,” he said, “Perhaps you are not so brave then, only unknowing. But your fate is set, tragic and inevitable, you will find the King, but death awaits you.”

“MUDROT!”

The voice boomed along the corridor. Joe jumped and Mudrot squealed, clasping his head in his hands. At the end of the corridor, silhouetted in the glow of the lanterns, stood the Queen. Her shadow stretched out along the tiles as if reaching for them. Two pig-guards waddled forwards with a grim look of determination on their face. Mudrot gave Joe one last fleeting look,

“Look under the bed,” he whispered, “Don’t trust her.” Then the guards grabbed him and hauled him away. Joe hurried after them but the Queen stopped him, placing a firm hand on his chest. She looked disappointed, watching the guards drag Mudrot down the stairs, then turned to Joe.

“So sorry to upset you my child,” she said softly, “I’m afraid Mudrot has committed a terrible crime.” Joe shook his head,

“No, honestly, it wasn’t his fault. I got lost and he was helping me. Really.” The Queen smiled, nodding her head softly,

“Such a trusting boy. But Mudrot has been stealing from the Palace. I’m afraid it isn’t the first time. Accusations have been made before and I so wanted to believe them false. But my guards found evidence.” She made an exaggerated display of emotion and placed a hand in the small of Joe’s back, ushering him along.

“Did you find out who was in the grounds?” Joe asked. Her smile faltered for a second,

“Oh nothing dear,” she said, “Just some vermin to be cleared away.” They crossed the balcony and Joe peered down, but Mudrot and his captors had gone.

“He was looking at one of the statues,” Joe said. The Queen guided him on, looking ahead,

“Ah yes. His wife, Komma, a good servant. Sadly she left us.” So Mudrot was married. He had stared intently at the statue.

“Why didn’t he go with her?”

“Perhaps it would have been better if he had,” the Queen said, “But I’m sure they’ll be together again soon enough.”

They stopped outside the door to his room and he asked her again about his friends. She smiled, explaining it was too dark to look for them but she would send out guards in the morning. Before he could argue, she ushered him into the room, wished him a good night and closed the door with a click. He heard the scrape of a key turning and when he tried the door found it was locked. He was trapped with the dolls. His skin crawled. He knew he would never fall asleep with them watching and hurried around the room, turning each one round until every glassy eye was hidden.

Satisfied, he lay on the bed and hung over the side to look underneath. A pair of cold eyes stared back at him and he screamed and fell to the floor in a jumble of arms and legs. He expected something to growl and burst from darkness, but the room hung in silence again. Slowly he lifted the white frill around the base of the bed.

A doll. He let out an annoyed snort and fished it out, holding it up in front of his face. Its glassy eyes stared back.

“I’ve had enough of you,” he said and stuffed it face down into a vase. He found no more dolls under the bed, only a rough sack. He pulled it out and looked inside. To his surprise it contained his clothes. He pulled them out. They were dry enough, but he could still smell the river on them. The Queen had said she was having them washed. Maybe she hadn’t got around to it yet.

He sat on the bed and found a can of Sprangle, and some cherry crisps. Both tasted delicious and he finished them off quickly, deciding to try a bar of carrot flavoured chocolate. It was surprisingly good.

For the first time since leaving Mr Zhang’s shop he felt relaxed. He ignored any thoughts about the Queen or Mudrot and blocked out worries about his friends, and his Uncle and Aunt. He was too tired to think about any of it and before long, he was fast asleep.


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