We stumbled to the North Gate, where Addie, Wilson and the Princess were waiting next to a battered jeep that was attached to a trailer that contained eight ‘barter quality’ goats.
‘I’m not going to ask where you found that,’ said Addie, pointing at Rubber Colin, ‘but it’s going to be a tight fit.’
It was a tight fit. Ridiculously so. But with Rubber Colin in the back of the open jeep, Wilson and Perkins on either side of him and with me and the Princess sharing the passenger seat, we could just about fit in. Addie coaxed the jeep into life.
‘Is Perkins okay?’ asked Addie. ‘He looks kind of … old.’
‘He’s fine,’ I said, even though he wasn’t, not really. ‘Let’s just drive.’
So we did. We took the rough unmade road towards Cadair Idris and after an hour had passed we knew that the Princess’s pardon was now official, and she was free.
We drove in almost unparalleled discomfort for another two hours until we reached a waterfall, where Addie knew there was a dry cave hidden behind some rhododendron bushes. We stopped and then sat in silence for some time, not moving, the eight goats bleating plaintively as they weren’t used to being in a trailer and could smell the water. It had been a worrying afternoon, and the positive outcome of the trial notwithstanding, we could all feel the stress within the small group. We ignored one another for the forty minutes it took to settle in the cave, all of us working at our chores without talking. I chased out a boogaloo that had taken refuge while Addie and the Princess went to tether the goats near the river, and Perkins and Wilson wandered off to look for fireberries. Colin stayed in the back of the jeep, his lifeless rubber eyes staring unseeing into the gathering gloom.
We reconvened when the fireberries were ignited, the daylight had gone and the supper was about ready. It was Spam, but everyone was too tired to complain.
It was the Princess who finally broke the silence.
‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘all of you. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’
‘You should thank Perkins,’ said Addie, pointing to where he was sitting on a stone farther back in the cave. He looked preoccupied and in that sort of dark place where you shun companionship, but are secretly glad when someone forces it upon you.
‘Did he give more of himself?’ asked the Princess anxiously. ‘In years, I mean?’
I nodded.
‘Over twenty.’
‘Oh,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘I must speak with him.’
She went over and spoke to him in a quiet voice. She took his hand in hers, and I saw him shrug, then smile, then nod some thanks of his own.
We opened some tins of rice pudding, which, along with the Spam and some pickled eggs, was all Addie could find for provisions at short notice, and washed it all down with a cup of tea.
Conversation after dinner was muted. We had come a long way and each of us had dodged death at least twice. The Princess kindly offered to tell us how hedge funds operated, but I could tell her heart wasn’t in it and there were no takers. There would be no spin-the-bottle, no stories. The search had suddenly become more dangerous, more real.
Seven o’clock passed and no homing snail had arrived. I felt very much on my own, with only my wits to guide us.
The Princess placed her bedroll next to mine.
‘I’m not doing very well, am I?’ she said once we’d settled down and were staring at the roof of the cave, ready for sleep. ‘I mean, this adventure is meant to make me less bratty and more wise and thoughtful and stuff but all that’s happened is that you’ve all put your lives on the line to save me, but I’ve done little except need to be rescued. I feel like the worst princess cliché.’
‘It could be worse,’ I said, ‘you could be screaming and swooning or demanding a bath in rabbit’s milk or something.’
She agreed with this, and there was a pause. I hadn’t much cared for her at the beginning, but I’d be sorry to lose her now. And not just because there was the hint of a fine queen about her, but because I actually quite liked her. I recalled Kevin’s words: You will be saved by people who do not like you, nor are like you, nor that you like. It had been true then, but it wasn’t so true now. None of us had saved the Princess from the executioner because she was just the Princess. We had saved her because she was part of whatever made us us.
‘We’d have done the same if you were Laura Scrubb,’ I said. ‘We don’t abandon our friends.’
‘I’m glad,’ said the Princess. ‘Your friendship and trust mean more to me than everything I have, or everything I will ever be.’
There was no answer to this, so I nodded to say that I understood.
‘What did you say to Perkins?’
‘I conferred upon him the Dukedom of Bredwardine – in recognition of his sacrifices in the service of the Crown. I know the honour system is the worst kind of bullshit, but the Snodd dukedom also allows the holder a twenty-five per cent discount at the Co-op, free bus and rail travel and two free seats at the Wimbledon finals every year.’
‘He deserved it,’ I said, then added in a louder voice so everyone else could hear: ‘Don’t tell the Federation, but I’m upgrading this search to quest status.’
The flickering light of the fireberry played upon the roof.
‘About time too,’ came Addie’s voice in the darkness.
To the foot of the mountain
That night, I dreamt of my parents again. They were scolding me for leaving my conch on the half-track and telling me that I couldn’t marry Perkins because he was ‘old enough to be my father’. Then I was dreaming of Kevin Zipp, who said he had come to say goodbye and to not ‘lose sight of all that is good’. After that I was chasing after Curtis and the half-track, and when I stopped and turned around, five Hotax were staring at me with their small pig-like eyes, and one of them was holding a surgeon’s saw and another a bag of kapok stuffing and a sewing needle. I’d turned to run but found I couldn’t for some reason, and that’s when I was shaken awake. It was Addie.
She put her fingers to her lips and beckoned me to the rhododendrons that were hiding the entrance to the cave. She gently pushed the branches apart to reveal two pale blue Skybus trucks parked on the road next to the waterfall, almost identical to the ones we had seen before. The drivers seemed to be comparing notes about the journey, and from the manner in which their large, four-wheel-drive trucks were parked, one seemed to be heading off in the direction of the Cadair range, and the other, mud-spattered and dusty, seemed to be returning.
As we watched they shook hands, climbed into the cabs of their trucks and drove off in the directions I had guessed.
I looked at Addie and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged. She had no idea what they were doing here either.
‘There are no manufacturing facilities in this direction,’ she said, ‘or at least, nothing that I know about.’
‘Smuggling?’ I said.
‘It’s possible,’ said Addie, striding across to look at the tyre tracks. ‘The Mountain Silurians used to illegally export spice, but if they are still doing it, why use Skybus vehicles?’
‘I’ve counted at least six while I’ve been here,’ I said, ‘all heading to and from the border. Aviation parts, you say?’
‘So I’m told,’ said Addie, squatting down to study the tyre tracks, ‘but I’ve never looked inside the lorries, so I don’t know for sure. Notice anything odd?’
We were at a muddy section of the road, and Addie was pointing at the tracks. One was deep and well defined while the other vehicle had hardly made any imprint at all.