The Very Royal Holiday Read online

  That is, he had pirate things, like an eye patch, a parrot on his shoulder and a wooden leg. But he also had alien things, like a great number of eyes that weren’t covered by a patch, a great number of shoulders that didn’t carry a parrot, and a great number of legs that weren’t wooden.

  The alien pirate crawled through the window, yelling, ‘Ahoy, space drifters! Surrender or we’ll hang ye from the yardarm!’

  ‘Can you hang people in space?’ Holly wondered out loud. ‘They’d probably just float around being bored.’

  ‘Huh?’ the pirate said. ‘Quiet, wench! Where be the treasure?’

  ‘You’ve got a fire-powered wooden leg!’ Pepino marvelled. ‘I want one!’

  ‘Me too!’ said most of the royal children. ‘Can I see? Can I see?’

  They all gathered around the pirate and pulled on his leg. ‘Yaarrh!’ he harrumphed. ‘What sort of galleon be this? All the shipmen be sprogs!’

  ‘Royal sprogs, if you please,’ said Blastula. ‘Apart from those two dirty little nobodies over there.’

  ‘Royal sprogs! Aren’t we lucky today!’ The pirate rubbed his hands. ‘And who be the bigger lad o’er there?’

  ‘Only a musician whose instrument and will to live you’ve just broken,’ cried Hamelin.

  ‘Arrrh! Sorry, me lad. We’ll find you another o’ both o’ those things in the next galley!’

  And he slapped Hamelin’s back, sending him flying straight to the other side of the room.

  ‘So where be that treasure, then?’ he asked, looking around. ‘All I see’s sprogs and animals with straws and air tanks.’

  ‘And where be your other pirate friends?’ Anna asked. ‘Who’s in that gigantic ship?’

  ‘Well, me beauty, all me buccaneers. If ye let me take ye thar as prisoners, I’ll show ye. They be a bit strange, but good mateys.’

  ‘What, stranger than you?’ Blastula gasped. ‘Let’s by all means stay here, then.’

  ‘Oh, no, please make us prisoners!’ the other children implored.

  Pepino was jumping up and down with joy, which in space meant jumping from wall to wall to wall in all different directions. ‘It sounds like the most fun anyone could ever have,’ he said.

  ‘That ship looks very dirty,’ Blastula remarked.

  ‘Do you even have running water?’

  ‘Nay, but look at the air bubble! I built it meself ! Ye can breathe normally on thar!’

  ‘Very impressive,’ Anna mulled, looking at the ship. ‘I do think we should go. It’s tiring carrying these scuba-diving kits around, and we might have a chance of survival there until we’re rescued. And we can try to get the truth out of Hamelin … OK, take us prisoners, Mr … Mr … ?’

  ‘Me name’s Twig-Leg Zig, and the name o’ that beauty over thar’s the Void Vagrant! Nay, let’s not bother with the prisoner business. Ye look like a bunch o’ good buckos. Ready to work for the glory o’ the Vagrant?’

  ‘YES!’ yelled all the children.

  ‘Certainly not,’ piped Hamelin.

  ‘Work again?’ sighed Anna, Holly and Pepino. ‘How much work are we talking about here? We were sort of hoping this would be a holiday, before it was ruined for us.’

  ‘Ye’ll have to attack all the galleys we meet,’ said Zig. ‘Especially if they be comin’ from Earth, with good treasures.’

  ‘How often is that?’

  ‘Ye be the first one in forty-eight years.’

  ‘Oh. That sounds manageable. What else will we have to do?’

  ‘Rid the keel o’ space barnacles, make salmagundi for dinner, repair the sails and stand atop the crow’s nest, looking through the spyglass for the man an’ the white bird.’

  ‘The what?’

  But Zig was tired of giving details. ‘Avast!’ he shouted. ‘Follow me now or ye’ll be made t’walk the plank!’

  ‘Can you walk the plank in space?’ Holly wondered. ‘Wouldn’t you just fall off into the sky and be bored?’

  ‘AVAST, WENCH!’ Twig-Leg Zig shouted.

  So he and the children left the drifting Holy Moly Holiday ship and flew across the big empty skies towards the Void Vagrant, carrying, in rescue boats, the animals, the tied-up Pip Hamelin, one racing car and one pedal car.

  Chapter Seven

  The other buccaneers were certainly good buckos, and also aliens; Twig-Leg Zig had picked them up from passing comets and UFOs. They worked alongside the royal children, which was lucky because Twig-Leg Zig hadn’t joked when he’d told them about the jobs to do on the Void Vagrant.

  Holly was on barnacle duty. Ridding the keel of space barnacles was no small task. Space barnacles are a particularly gluey and prickly kind of extraterrestrial parasite. They are characterised by three tricky things: a super-sticky sucker, angry burning little eyes and sharpish shards on the shell.

  To scrape them off the keel of the ship – as you float around, whooshing through space – you have to use a razor-sharp knife, and as they angrily loosen their grip, their little eyes shoot hot laser beams …

  But once they’re off and away into the dark and empty void, they turn into peacock-coloured hummingbird-sized flying creatures, and they go looking for other celestial bodies to stick to.

  ‘They’re so beautiful!’ Holly sighed every time a space barnacle flew away. ‘I wish I could keep one on my shoulder as a pet.’

  ‘Nay, ye don’t!’ growled Zig one day, when he was within earshot. ‘Nasty little beasties, those be! They’d suck ya soul through ya skin and burn anybody that came near!’

  Pepino was in the kitchens on salmagundi duty, and after a week he began to complain:

  ‘I still don’t know what the recipe’s supposed to be … nor what ingredients I’m using!’

  ‘Just mix them all together, me lad! It’s not complicated!’

  The ingredients were gathered from a large net that always hung behind the ship as it drifted. It caught small fry (tiny shrimp-like aliens, mini space-eels, sky algae) and sometimes, when they were very lucky, a warm meteorite with a whole unknown ecosystem on it.

  ‘Do you think I can use this fruit-like thing?’ Pepino asked. ‘How do I know it’s not toxic?’

  ‘Test it on Blastula first,’ Anna whispered.

  Blastula had landed the laziest job on the ship, as she had proven too useless and squeamish to do any of the others. It involved sitting atop the mizzen mast, with a spyglass made of diamonds and melted metals Zig had found on passing comets. Her job was to peer at the dark and empty skies in the hope of spotting ‘the man an’ the white bird’.

  ‘The man an’ the white bird’ was Twig-Leg Zig’s favourite story, and his most important mission in his space-pirate life.

  ‘It all happened a few years ago,’ he’d told them on the very first night, as all the children had gathered in the fo’c’sle, where their hammocks hung. ‘Or maybe more than a few years. What with the night all the time, where be certainty about anything? I’m flying down the futtock of the Vagrant, to repair the broken bits, and I look into the sky and suddenly I see him. I see him like I see ye now. I see the man an’ the white bird!’

  Zig let a long and mysterious silence settle.

  ‘They be flying fast and sure, like they know where to go. An’ I scream at them, “Are ye a god? Or an angel?” And the man-angel looks at me sadly and waves his hand. I say, “Ahoy! Angel!” and watch them go … And then I never see them again.’

  ‘Never?’ Pepino whispered.

  ‘Never. Every day, I go up to the crow’s nest and I watch the sky with the spyglass. I see nay man and bird, nay ever.’

  He turned to Blastula. ‘But with those eyes o’ yours, ye’ll see him, I know it! He be coming back and bringing joy an’ happiness to all of us!’

  Since then, Blastula had half-heartedly ‘worked’ to find the man and the bird. At every meal she complained and groaned, ‘That silly dirty pirate had a hallucination all those years ago and now we have to waste our time looking for something that doesn’t e
xist!’

  At ‘least you’re not scraping barnacles off the keel of the ship,’ Anna murmured. ‘Think of my sister.’

  ‘She’s a commoner – that’s what they’re for,’ Blastula retorted. ‘I’m more sad for my poor royal friends who are slaving away down this mast, keeping the boat going, when they should be twirling around at balls and learning to wave at peasants while simultaneously smiling!’

  The other royal children, though, didn’t seem too bothered. If anything, they loved slaving away on the pirate ship with the other buccaneers.The tsarina, Nadya of Marok, worked with Arak, a seamstress from planet Vega, repairing the sails of the Void Vagrant.

  A team of ten dukelings, emperorlets and princesses checked the nets and caught drifting meteorites with the help of Big-Paw Pam, who’d been a Plutonian baseball champion in his youth.

  Countess Graupel of Alaskold, who was used to cold temperatures, harvested ice from passing comets and gave it to the frazzling-hot Sun-born twin brothers, Sol and Brul, to melt into water.

  Three of the other children were in charge of the now rather huge menagerie on the ship, and the animals were having a bit too much fun flying around.

  Meanwhile, Anna had the job of looking after their only prisoner: Hamelin.

  Ten times a day, she asked him, ‘Tell me the truth. Why did you try to lose us into the sky?’

  But Hamelin was not cooperating.

  ‘I’ll tell you only if you fix my mandolin,’ he grumbled in reply, ten times a day. ‘You could use barnacle glue and ask Mrs Arak for help with the strings.’

  ‘If I do that, you’ll just try to entrance us again by singing another song.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s up to you …’

  And then sometimes he’d smile slyly and say, ‘It’s a good story, though …’

  ‘I don’t care about your silly story,’ Anna said.

  But she did feel curious to know what the story was …

  Chapter Eight

  ‘ Arrr!!!’ yelled Twig-Leg Zig one sort-of-morning. ‘Show a leg, sprogs! Planet in sight! All hands on deck for mooring!’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ Blastula said with a yawn from the top of the crow’s nest. ‘If that pirate stops going further and further into the sky, we might have a chance to be rescued one day. I can’t wait to take a break from you smelly people!’

  And she threw the spyglass to – or rather at – Anna, narrowly missing her head. Anna pocketed it.

  The Void Vagrant was indeed drifting towards a tiny planet, green and fluffy like a plush ball. They slowly entered its atmosphere and threw the anchor down into a large forest. Each tree was like a giant lollipop of moss, ruffled by bird-like animals.

  ‘Are you sure it’s wise to come here?’ asked Nadya. ‘How do you know we won’t get eaten by the alien wild beasts?’

  ‘Slides down!’ roared Zig, ignoring her entirely.

  ‘Let’s take Hamelin with us,’ said Anna. ‘It’s safer. Goodness knows what he’d do here on his own.’

  ‘And we can always feed him to the alien wild beasts, if there are any,’ said Nadya.

  Hamelin shrugged. Anna tied him to his flying pedal car, which she tied to herself, and they all whooshed down the corkscrew slides to the ground.

  ‘Have you been here before?’ Holly asked Arak and Big-Paw Pam.

  Arak hissed a Veganese ‘No’: ‘Hksz.’

  Big-Paw Pam, who spoke only with his hands, mimed the winds and the ship, then shrugged: the sky-winds take the ship wherever they like; we can’t decide.

  ‘Where be the booty?’ Zig yelled, jumping amid the velvet-soft herbs and trees. ‘Coffers full o’ doubloons, all kinds o’ loot from interplanetary pillages! Come on, sprogs – look out for treasure!’

  ‘I wish he wouldn’t do that – it’s so embarrassing,’ said Holly. Big-Paw Pam nodded and squashed a red fruit all over his face to express the fact that he was blushing with shame.

  ‘Oh, look,’ said Pepino as they walked across the jungle. ‘Potato-type things. Maybe I could use them for my next salmagundi.’

  They stopped to look at the round white things clustered on a purple leaf.

  ‘They’re moving a bit,’ Anna noted. ‘Are you sure they’re not eggs?’

  Indeed, the potato-type things were clicking and shaking, and suddenly – CRACK! – they began to snap. Four ferocious-looking feral things forced their way out of the frozen shells, flashed their fangs and flapped their five little wings.

  A few seconds later, they’d flown off into the forest.

  ‘Phew,’ said Pepino. ‘It’s very difficult to ensure food safety in the dark and empty skies.’

  ‘It’s not food you should worry about,’ chimed Hamelin.

  Anna turned to him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ said Hamelin, leaning back into his pedal car.

  ‘You are so annoying!’ she growled.

  ‘Look,’ Holly said, ‘there are four suns on this planet!’

  They watched them for a while.

  ‘And more of these flying things,’ said Quetzal.

  ‘A lot of them,’ Pepino confirmed. ‘At least … five or six. Or even … ten … twenty … I can’t really count them. They’re flying together in swarms!’

  ‘Yes, that’s what they do,’ said Hamelin dreamily.

  Anna turned to him.

  ‘What do you mean, “That’s what they do”?’

  ‘Did I say that?’ Hamelin asked. ‘Oh, nothing.’

  ‘HAMELIN!’ Anna shouted. ‘Have you seen these things before?’

  He yawned. ‘I might be mistaken. It’s been a long time.’

  ‘They’re coming towards us,’ Holly said. ‘They’re … I mean, I can’t tell if they’re friendly or … Zig? Zig, can you … Can you have a look at those, up there, and tell us if you think they’re nice?’

  Twig-Leg Zig rolled his ten eyes (minus the one behind the eye patch) up into the sky.

  ‘I have no idea, me lass, but all I can tell ye is that those creatures thar are th’ugliest I’ve seen in a while! Like a cross between a rat an’ butterfly, those things are!’

  Holly looked at Anna.

  ‘Rat and butterfly,’ she murmured.

  ‘What about it?’ asked Anna, raising her eyebrows.

  ‘Doesn’t that remind you of something?’

  Hamelin, behind them, sniggered. ‘She’s got a good memory, that one …’

  And Anna suddenly remembered.

  ‘The Things?’ she whispered. ‘The Things from the song? They’re … they’re real?’

  ‘RUN!!!’ Holly yelled. ‘EVERYONE, RUN!!!’

  And as the Things dived down, the children and the alien pirates ran and ran and ran to find a place to hide.

  They soon came to a large rock and had to split into two groups: to the left went Anna, Hamelin, Blastula and the pirates; to the right went Holly, Pepino and the other children.

  A few minutes later, Anna and her group found a burrow to – pop! – leap into. And a few seconds later, Holly, Pepino and their group found a cave to – whoosh! – run into.

  They could hear the angry buzz of Things above their heads.

  Then silence.

  ‘OK,’ said Anna to Hamelin. ‘Now explain to us what happened. How do you know about these Things?’

  ‘I’ll explain when you’ve fixed my mandolin.’

  ‘Right!’ Anna exploded. ‘We’ll fix your stupid mandolin!’

  She squeezed the two pieces out of the pedal car and, in the bright light of Sol and Brul, began to repair the instrument.

  First Twig-Leg Zig scraped a barnacle off the back of the pedal car. They squeezed its gluey dribble on to the body of the mandolin.

  Then Arak carefully knitted back the strings.

  Finally, they untied Hamelin and gave him the mandolin.

  Tzing! Tzing!

  ‘It’s not very well tuned,’ he said reproachfully.

  ‘Then tune it!’ Anna groaned.

&nbs
p; From tzing! to gling! to drling, drling! the mandolin found its enchanting tunes again.

  And Hamelin began to sing:

  Remember, friends, our brave young player

  Who had led all the Things away?

  He went back home, and voiced his prayer:

  ‘I did it – now, in place of pay,

  As we agreed, let me espouse

  The princess of this Royal House

  For I love her, and she loves me.’

  But the King said, ‘Alas, my lad,

  No one knows where your love may be;

  She’s disappeared; we’re very sad.’

  (Hearing this, the solar brothers shed some tears, which sizzled over their burning bodies and evaporated in puffs of steam.)

  The boy did not believe a word

  Of the terrible thing he’d heard

  He knew the King had surely lied:

  His own daughter he’d hid away

  So she could never be his bride.

  In anger and in disarray

  The singer made the deathly plan

  To hurt the royals where they’d hurt him.

  Just like the toxic Things before them

  He’d lead away the royal children.

  And thus he started plottin’, plottin’

  A cunning plan to send away

  The princesses and princes rotten

  On a long, one-way Holiday.

  Hamelin stopped there. ‘Do you want me to continue?’

  Shaken from their reverie, Anna, Zig, Pam, the solar brothers and Arak jumped.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Anna stuttered. ‘Is this the truth? You were the musician they asked to lead the Things away from Earth?’

  ‘You guessed! How clever of you.’ Hamelin smirked.