Beyond the Cherry Tree

  Dedication

  For my three children, Jamie, Tamzin and Ethan. Thank you for the adventure of fatherhood.

  Acknowledgements

  A huge thank you to everyone at The O’Brien Press, especially my editor, Helen Carr, and designer, Emma Byrne.

  Thanks also to Oisín McGann, whose map of Habilon is a true work of art.

  Thanks to all the booksellers, librarians, teachers and readers who support my work.

  Finally, as always, the biggest thanks goes to my wife, Mandy, for her unrivalled belief and encouragement.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  1. The Blooms

  2. Missing

  3. Cherry Tree Manor

  4. The General’s Library

  5. The Riddle

  6. The Willow Wand

  7. Bortwig’s Abode

  8. A Vision

  9. Arc of Habilon

  10. The Witches of Zir

  11. Feldorn Forest

  12. Heckrin’s Pass

  13. Flying Terror

  14. Flight with the White Dragon

  15. The Swamps

  16. The Wizard Wilzorf

  17. Krudon’s Delight

  18. High Council

  19. Slygar

  20. A Terrible Trade

  21. Three Thousand Goblins

  22. The Orb

  23. Valdosyr

  24. Lisagor

  25. The Final Battle

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  The Blooms

  Josh Bloom loved stories – all kinds of stories – but most of all he loved to hear the stories that his Uncle Henry told him about a general named Edgar Pennington. Most evenings, when Henry came in from work he barely had time to hang his coat up and untie his shoe laces before Josh pulled a stool over to the fire and sat eagerly waiting to hear which of the general’s great adventures Henry would share with him this time.

  ‘Have I ever told you about the time the general fell into the serpent’s pit?’ asked Henry, with a little lift of his left brow.

  Josh’s eyes widened.

  ‘No, Henry!’ he gasped.

  Just as Henry sat forward in his chair to begin the story, Josh’s Aunt Nell came in from the kitchen.

  ‘There’s a hot meal for both of you on the table, if you’re interested. That’s if you’re not too busy filling the boy’s head with yet another one of your silly stories.’

  Josh smiled at his aunt.

  ‘They’re not silly, Nell. The general was a great adventurer – the greatest. Isn’t that right, Henry?’

  Henry looked at Josh with both brows raised. He knew that Nell didn’t really approve of his stories, no matter how exciting they were.

  ‘Let’s go and have dinner,’ he suggested. Then he leaned a little closer to Josh and winked, ‘Your aunt Nell goes to her club tonight.’

  ‘The stench was almost unbearable,’ began Henry. ‘As the general moved further into the darkness, the smell of death grew stronger.’

  ‘Why didn’t he try to climb back out?’ asked Josh. He was engrossed in Henry’s story.

  ‘He wouldn’t,’ said Henry, while lighting up his pipe – a gift from the general, many years before.

  ‘Why not?’ worried Josh. ‘I would have climbed back out.’

  Henry bit on the tip of his pipe then pulled it away from his mouth and pointed it toward Josh, ‘I asked the general that very same question, and do you know what he told me?’

  Josh just shook his head.

  ‘He said, “Don’t be foolish, Henry, adventures are not for going backwards. Forward and fearless, that’s the only way to find truth in one’s journey.”’

  Josh felt a shiver rush down his spine. I wish I had met the general! he thought.

  ‘What happened next, Henry?’

  Henry sank back into his chair and returned to biting his pipe.

  ‘He moved deeper and deeper into darkness until eventually the stench was so bad that it became almost unbearable to breathe – and then …’ Henry paused.

  Josh was hanging off the edge of his stool – the tips of his fingers were white from gripping the seat of the stool so tightly.

  ‘What, Henry?’ cried Josh. ‘Henry, come on, tell me!’

  Henry slowly moved his eyes toward the cottage ceiling.

  Josh did the same, only swifter.

  ‘What, Henry?’

  ‘It came from above!’ said Henry.

  ‘The serpent!’ gasped Josh, returning his eyes to the ceiling once more just to check that nothing was above him.

  Henry nodded his head.

  ‘Did he kill it?’ asked Josh. ‘Was it big? Did it attack him? Did it—’

  Josh’s frenzy of questions was interrupted by the sound of Aunt Nell turning her key in the front door.

  Henry jumped in his chair. Nell was home early.

  ‘Henry, what happened?’ Josh persisted.

  As Nell shook the rain from her brolly at the door, Henry made a move toward the kitchen door.

  ‘Tea, Nell?’ he called.

  Josh followed Henry into the kitchen.

  ‘You have to finish the story, Henry.’

  ‘I will,’ whispered Henry. ‘The next time you visit me at work after school, I’ll finish the story. But for now, let’s just say that the general didn’t kill the serpent but he left it with a nasty scar along the top of its head.’

  Josh went to sleep that night thinking of Henry’s story. He rubbed his finger along a scar on his right arm, and even though he knew that he had got it from a fall when he was a baby, he fell asleep and dreamt that he got his scar on an adventure with the general.

  He woke up the next morning still thinking of Henry’s story, almost forgetting that it was his birthday – his thirteenth birthday! Nell and Henry were eagerly waiting for Josh in the kitchen, and when he walked in, Nell threw her arms around him.

  ‘Don’t kiss me, Nell!’ cried Josh. ‘I’m too old for that now.’

  Nell wouldn’t let go of Josh until she got her kiss. She was like that – the loving kind – firm and strict, but very loving nonetheless.

  Henry stood up from the table and stretched out his arm.

  ‘Happy birthday, boy,’ he smiled.

  Josh shook his uncle’s hand.

  ‘Thanks, Henry.’

  Henry had a really proud look on his face, the very same look he had on all of Josh’s birthdays. Josh always felt that Henry would have loved him to be his son; he never really questioned his uncle or his aunt on his past and his parents because he didn’t want to make them feel that they weren’t enough for him. But for some reason, maybe because it was his birthday, Josh felt the urge to ask Henry about his past.

  ‘What were my parents like? My dad, what was he like? Was he like the general?’ Josh smiled across the table to Henry.

  Henry shifted his eyes to Nell as if to pass the question onto her. Nell began to fidget uncomfortably with the tea towel. Josh knew instantly that it was awkward for them, so he tried a different approach.

  ‘Was my dad your brother, Henry? I hope he was.’

  Henry smiled. He knew that Josh was just trying to make him feel good, but still he shifted his eyes toward Nell, who drew a deep breath, then put the tea towel down and crossed her hands on the table.

  ‘I suppose you’re thirteen now, Josh, and, well, there’s no point in pretending that you’re not going to be curious about, well, lots of things really.’

  Nell was struggling to get to the point she was trying to make.

  Henry decided to help out, ‘What your aunt is trying to tell
you, Josh, is that we’ll always be here for you and you know that we love you very much, so you don’t have to worry about anything like that.’

  Nell interrupted, ‘Just tell him, Henry.’

  ‘Tell me what?’ asked Josh.

  ‘We’ve never met your parents,’ said Henry. ‘I mean, I’m not your father’s brother or your mother’s and neither is Nell, I mean, you know what I mean. I’m trying to say that of course we’re your aunt and uncle, but we’re—’

  Josh didn’t let Henry finish his sentence. He stood up and leaned over to his uncle and gave him a big hug.

  Henry laughed, ‘Whoa! Easy boy, these bones are getting old.’

  Tears filled Nell’s eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. That was just the way Nell was – hard exterior and soft on the inside.

  There was no more discussion that morning of Josh’s real parents or even of his past, and he and Henry and Nell celebrated his birthday like they always did by letting him skip school for the day and taking a trip into the centre of Charlotty to pick out a birthday present.

  Chapter 2

  Missing

  ‘Missing!’ – that was the headline that leapt off the photocopied pages being placed onto every desk; the sun shone its blinding rays through the open windows of the Charlotty School classroom, illuminating the word.

  Mr Higgins had instructed Josh to hand out the crisp black and white copies of the Charlotty News front page.

  ‘I want everyone to look carefully at the heading,’ Mr Higgins smiled excitedly.

  Josh sat down, holding the last page. He ran his eyes over the large black letters that dominated it.

  ‘Now have a look at the date on the top right-hand corner. Can anyone tell me the significance of this date?’ asked Mr Higgins with a childish look of expectation in his eyes under their big, red, bushy brows.

  Matty Baker was the first to launch his hand into the air. Mr Higgins hesitated before giving Matty the nod to answer.

  ‘Go ahead, Matty.’

  ‘It’s tomorrow’s date, sir,’ answered Matty. ‘Only it’s twelve years old.’

  ‘Very good, Baker. You can all put your hands down now,’ instructed the teacher. Then he slid around his shiny polished oak desk on his bottom and began fumbling in his brown leathery briefcase.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ asked Matty nudging Josh, who sat beside him.

  Josh didn’t reply. He was fascinated by the words on the page, almost as if he was falling under hypnosis with every line that his eyes ran across.

  ‘Josh!’ said Matty, trying to catch his friend’s attention.

  Josh jumped. Mr Higgins spun around again, holding what appeared to be an old newspaper.

  ‘Now, boys. Following Mr Baker’s correct answer, I have here in my hands the original newspaper of twelve years ago. Before I continue, is it possible that there might be somebody who can tell the rest of us exactly what this newspaper article is all about?’

  Almost involuntarily, Josh Bloom’s hand shot up.

  ‘Ah! Mr Bloom,’ smiled Master Higgins. ‘You’ve read the article already. Good man. Stand up, then, and tell us all.’

  Josh stood up and glanced all around the room, then fixed his eyes assertively on his teacher.

  ‘I didn’t read it all, sir, but I pretty much know the story anyway.’

  ‘Really! Excellent. Carry on, then.’

  ‘Well, sir!’ continued Josh. ‘I’ve heard it from my Uncle Henry. You see, sir, he works at Cherry Tree Manor. He’s the gardener there.’

  ‘Yes!’ interrupted the teacher, wondering how long it would take the boy to actually get to the point.

  Josh paused for a moment while looking all around the room again. He wasn’t too sure about how much he should say, he knew so many stories about the eccentric general.

  Some of the other boys began to titter.

  ‘That’s enough,’ said the teacher. ‘The article, Joshua. In your own time.’

  Josh took a deep breath.

  ‘Well, you see, Cherry Tree Manor is owned – I mean, was owned – by a general named Pennington. General Edgar Pennington,’ explained Josh. ‘And this article is all about his disappearance, twelve years ago, tomorrow.’

  Now everyone in the room was paying attention, and certainly not tittering. They were paying attention because it was a mystery! Every young boy and girl loves a mystery. And this story that Josh was beginning to unfold was indeed mysterious.

  ‘Very good, Josh,’ commended the teacher. ‘You can sit back down now. I want everyone to read this article tonight, because tomorrow you are all going to Cherry Tree Manor on a field trip.’ Mr Higgins could hear contented chatter ripple across every desk in the room. ‘Now, boys. I know this sounds like you’re all going on a big adventure, and well, I suppose in a way it is an adventure, but it will be a class trip and we will be there to learn.’

  Mr Higgins looked over at Josh.

  ‘As Josh has already informed us, General Pennington mysteriously disappeared twelve years ago. That anniversary falls on tomorrow’s date. As a result of this, Claudia Pennington, the general’s daughter, has agreed to open the house to various groups in Charlotty. And since Charlotty Primary was one of the many lucky recipients of generous funding from the general’s vast wealth, Ms Pennington has kindly sent an invite for our class to visit.’

  Unexpectedly, Matty Baker’s hand shot up.

  ‘Yes, Matty?’

  ‘Sir, does the general’s daughter still live in the manor?’ quizzed Matty.

  Josh didn’t mean to answer on behalf of his teacher, but for some reason his mouth opened and words came out – loudly.

  ‘No, she doesn’t. Nobody’s lived there in years.’

  ‘Very good, Josh. You certainly have done your research,’ smiled Mr Higgins. ‘As Josh has just informed us, nobody has lived at the manor for many years, but it is kept in pristine condition, financed by a trust funded by the general’s daughter. This fund pays for the maintenance and upkeep of the house and its many valuable artefacts, and, of course, for its immense, spectacular grounds, which Mr Bloom’s uncle tends.’

  Both Josh and Mr Higgins had captured the undivided attention of the whole class. Unfortunately for Josh, who was now bursting at the seams to continue the story about the missing general, a greater sound rang through the room.

  The school bell!

  In a split second, the powerful magic that mystery can hold was cast aside as the more powerful magic of the sound of hometime rang through the room. Books and pens were snappily brushed into school bags and thirty pairs of shoes clattered towards the exit.

  Poor Josh’s ears were hurting on the way home on the bus as Matty bombarded him with an interrogation of questions about the general.

  ‘Go on, Josh,’ hounded Matty. ‘You must know what happened to the general.’

  ‘I don’t. Honestly,’ insisted Josh.

  ‘But your uncle’s worked there all his life. Surely he knows what happened to the general?’

  ‘Nobody knows, Matty. Haven’t you even looked at the news headline? He just vanished one day and never returned. No body was ever found, so no one knows whether he is even dead or alive.’

  ‘Amazing!’ gasped Matty. ‘Hey! Do you think we might find out something tomorrow, like a clue or something?’ Matty’s imagination was running wild now.

  Josh laughed, ‘I’ve been to the manor lots of times to visit Henry at work, and I’ve never, ever seen anything suspicious or come across any clues.’

  Matty’s eyes widened, ‘Have you been in the house?’

  ‘No. Nobody goes into the house. That’s kind of why I’m amazed that the general’s daughter is letting a group of school kids in tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m telling you, Josh,’ grinned Matty as he got up for his stop. ‘Tomorrow’s going to be a trip to remember.’

  Then, he jumped off the bus, leaving Josh gazing back down at the newspaper article.

  Chapter 3

  Cherry Tr
ee Manor

  Josh was last to board the school bus the next morning.

  He was late – twenty minutes late – and he had to endure dirty looks from all his classmates all the way down to the back of the bus until he hid his head behind the welcoming headrest of the seat in front of his.

  ‘What kept you?’ tutted Matty. ‘We were going to go without you, but I kept telling Higgins that you wouldn’t miss this trip for the world. I think he’s more excited about it than anyone else.’

  Matty wasn’t trying to brag for sticking up for Josh, but he was definitely making it known that he had stuck his neck out for his friend.

  ‘Aunt Nell,’ answered Josh, his face beginning to return to its normal sallow colour instead of the lush pink glow that had stung his cheeks from running so hard.

  ‘Aunt Nell?’ repeated Matty. ‘Aunt Nell, what?’

  ‘That’s who made me late. She saw me showing the newspaper article to Henry last night and has been on my case ever since. She was badgering me so much about how I should leave Henry alone when we get to the manor, and not be bothering him that I ran out without my journal and pen. I had to go back for them. That’s why I’m late.’

  ‘Oh!’ chuckled Matty. ‘I didn’t think of bringing a journal and pen.’

  Josh turned and smiled at Matty, then rested his head back and stared out the window as the bus began to climb Gorse Hill.

  It was about a fifteen-minute drive up to Cherry Tree Manor. None of the other boys on the bus had ever travelled up Gorse Hill – there was no need, as it only led to the manor, one road in and one road out – but Josh had cycled along its steep, winding roads whenever he visited Henry at work. He was familiar with every twist and turn and bump and hollow that the school bus struggled with as it slowly crunched along the gritty, narrow road that was cushioned with hawthorn and wild grasses and vibrant patches of yellow gorse in between. Finally, to everyone’s delight, the rattling bus choked out a huge huff of fumes as it spluttered through the open tall black iron gates of the grand estate.