Back To The Divide
sing the anthem through so that everyone gets the feel of it."
    Pignut nudged Felix, and he realized he was meant to express his gratitude. "Thank you," he said, although he found the idea of Fleabane selling tickets for a trial unspeakable, even if it was Snakeweed's. Fleabane tossed him a gold coin, and they left the palace.
    "The trial won't be today," said Pignut. "Do you have anywhere to stay?"
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    "I think I'll try Bedstraw's," said Felix, remembering the name of the lodging house.
    "Oh, right. See you in court, then."
    Felix tightened the straps on his backpack and headed off toward Bedstraw's. He might as well stay there as anywhere else while he was searching for a tunnel to the library, and the gold coin would buy him several days' board. He didn't think Bedstraw herself would recognize him; when she'd seen him the previous year, he'd been disguised as a tangle-child.
    The lodging house was full of japegrins, but there was one room left. Over lunch, which was served at a communal table with bench seats on either side, Felix told the tale of the phony eye remedy over and over again. No one questioned it, and he began to feel more confident and started asking about the coastline.
    "You only just arrived, then?" asked someone, helping himself to another hunk of crusty onion bread.
    Felix thought quickly. "Yes," he said. "I was quite ill with that eye problem, and I stayed with an aunt in the forest to recover."
    "Did she take you to the castle? My little'un's been on at me to take her there."
    Felix had no wish to display any further ignorance, so he simply said, "No. She thought the sea air in Andria would be good for me."
    The japegrin laughed. "The air around here is thick with
    75
    discontent," he said. "I don't think it's very good for anyone. You see, nobody's seen the king and queen since the announcement of their abdication. Now, you might say a tangle-king and -queen are neither here nor there to me -- being a japegrin -- but they were harmless, and there are rumors that something nasty's happened to them...."
    "There's no proof," said another japegrin. "No bodies. You can't go making allegations like that."
    The first japegrin decided to change the subject. "The beach is worth a look," he said to Felix. "And there are some weird rock formations beyond it."
    "With caves and tunnels and things?"
    "Yes, I believe so."
    "Have you been in any of the caves?"
    "No -- you can get lost. There's an old hermit down there, a brittlehorn. If he likes you he might give you a tour -- the rocks grow in amazing shapes, like plants. But he won't show everyone. He has to like you first."
    A brittlehorn was very good news indeed. Brittlehorns had quite a store of magical knowledge -- just like their unicorn counterparts -- and even if this one didn't have an answer to the marble spell, he might know someone who did.
    Rutherford Aubrey Tripp always walked the same way to Wimbledon station each morning, his umbrella under one arm, his briefcase under the other. Normally, he wasn't terribly observant -- his head was far too full of protons and neutrons
    76
    and quarks to bother much with the natural world. A herd of stampeding wildebeests could have galloped down High Street without attracting his attention. The only exception to this tunnel vision was the interest he took in his fruit trees. He had a passion for Victoria plums, beautiful, succulent, gorgeous Victoria plums, but this year the wasps had been a serious pest. They had badly damaged the crop, leaving it open to brown rot, and his mind turned over the pesticides he would be needing for the weekend.
    Suddenly Rutherford came back to earth with a bump. He'd left his lab keys behind on the kitchen table, he was almost certain of it. He stopped and turned out his pockets, scattering coins and pens and computer discs on the pavement. As he bent down to retrieve them, he noticed a small white object next to a fallen plum. It looked remarkably like a dead wasp -- except that

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