Summer Spell (9781743437261) Read online

Page 4

Kit, Ruby and Lexie exchanged indignant looks, and slipped off their horses.

  They marched around to Grampy, took him by the arms and tried with all their might to haul him back upright. Grampy got halfway up before throwing his legs in the air and collapsing in a fit of giggles.

  ‘He’s had too much wine!’ said Ruby.

  Behind her, Lexie heard the audience laugh again. She gave a secret signal to Featherfoot. ‘The wine,’ she whispered.

  Featherfoot snuffled at a crate that was labelled WATERMELON WINE in big red letters. He lifted a bottle out of the crate.

  Lexie kept struggling with Grampy. When he flopped back onto the ground for the third time, she spun around and looked at Featherfoot. The giant horse had the bottle tipped high in the air as though he was drinking it.

  ‘Heyyy!’ Lexie cried.

  Featherfoot dropped the bottle and stood with his front feet neatly together. He cocked his head to one side and gave her an innocent look through his big shaggy forelock. The crowd roared with laughter.

  ‘Come on,’ said Ruby, who had Grampy by the arm. ‘Featherfoot will carry you home.’

  The girls helped Grampy onto Featherfoot’s back. Eventually he sat backwards in the saddle, holding an invisible pair of reins and staring with a puzzled look at the horse’s tail.

  Swooning music floated through the loudspeakers and Lexie gave Featherfoot the signal to walk sideways. He swayed to the left, crossing his front feet over. Then he swayed to the right, until the audience was nearly hysterical with laughter. Grampy did a wobbly version of spinning around the horn. Then he fell off one side, pulled himself under the belly of the horse and appeared on the other side with his hair sticking up everywhere. He climbed back into the saddle.

  ‘I think you both drank too much wine,’ said Lexie, waggling a finger at them.

  Grampy looked up at the sky. Then he leaned back and slowly tumbled off Featherfoot to the ground, landing face down. He hauled himself to his hands and knees and crawled between the horse’s feet. He peered through Featherfoot’s tail as though it was a curtain.

  Kit put her hands on her hips. ‘Where did that old man go?’ she said.

  Grampy quickly hid behind Featherfoot’s tail again, to the delight of the crowd.

  Lexie turned to the audience. ‘Did anyone see where he went?’

  ‘HE’S UNDER THE HORSE!’ they all shrieked.

  Lexie shrugged, acting as if she hadn’t heard them, and jumped back on Featherfoot. She pretended she didn’t notice Grampy leap on behind her as she rode back to the edge of the ring. By the squeals of the audience, she guessed he was doing something ridiculous. Again she caught sight of the mayor; he seemed to be wiping tears from his eyes, a broad grin on his face. Her confidence grew.

  When they got to the start of the track, Grampy tumbled off Featherfoot’s rump and staggered away.

  Ruby and Kit handed their horses’ reins to Analita, and took from her a large cup with COFFEE written on it. Ruby held it up to Featherfoot’s nose. He took it in his teeth and threw his head back as though he was drinking it. Then he tossed it aside, and turned to face the track. One at a time, Ruby and Kit vaulted onto Featherfoot behind Lexie.

  The music increased in tempo. The big horse pricked his ears.

  ‘From weakness comes strength,’ Lexie whispered to herself. She sat tall and felt her body fill with power. She had entertained the crowd; now she was ready for some real trick riding. But would it be good enough to beat the Hexleys?

  Lexie tied her reins off and took hold of the pommel. ‘First up, Shooting Stars.’ It was their own adaptation of their Uncle Yaan’s special trick; they had to ride it perfectly.

  She shot a quick look at the mayor. He was still watching eagerly, and to her surprise, so was Harry Chalkman, who stood nearby.

  ‘We ready?’ said Ruby.

  ‘You bet,’ said Kit.

  ‘Let’s ride!’ said Lexie. She kicked at Featherfoot’s sides and felt the muscles in his body bunch up. With a giant leap he burst into a gallop. Lexie felt a rush of wind over her face.

  ‘One, two, three, go!’ yelled Ruby.

  Featherfoot pounded over the track. Lexie clung to the pommel and gripped tightly with her legs. Behind her, Kit leapt to her feet. Ruby did too. She could feel them bow into arabesques while they used her shoulders to brace themselves. She let go of the saddle and put her arms out wide completing the manoeuvre.

  For ten full strides, they blazed along like shooting stars. Lexie couldn’t help letting out a loud whoop, just for the pure joy of it.

  ‘One, two, three, down!’ yelled Ruby, and Lexie felt her sisters slip back to their seats on Featherfoot.

  Analita held Tinker and Kismet at the other end of the track.

  Kit jumped onto Kismet, did a quick rollback and burst away again. Within three strides she was in a spritz, standing with one leg behind her.

  Before she was halfway across the track, Grampy staggered back out in his raggy-man costume and fell over drunk on top of a hay bale. There was a collective gasp from the crowd.

  Kismet kept galloping and jumped clean over the top of him. Kit rode the jump beautifully, barely shifting from her spritz. There was a roar of laughter when Grampy staggered off the hay bale, looking stunned and confused.

  Featherfoot and Tinker both pranced on the spot, their sides bumping against each other. On the count of three, Lexie and Ruby released them into another gallop.

  Grampy staggered across the track. Lexie and Ruby rolled into side-fender manoeuvres, clinging to the side of the saddle. As they galloped past Grampy, Lexie reached over and stole his hat. Ruby snatched the wine bottle from his hand.

  Grampy twirled on the spot, unbalanced by the assault. He kicked one leg in the air and flailed his arms. Then he fell heavily on his backside.

  Kit rode Kismet out onto the track. In one hand she held a large rubbish bin. She made a show of putting it on the ground and pointing at it. Ruby tossed the wine bottle into it and gave a nod of satisfaction. Lexie threw the hat in after it.

  As the girls worked through their small repertoire of tricks, they tried to be as accurate as possible. If they couldn’t do death drags like the Hexley High Flyers, then what they did do must be perfect.

  While they finished their routine, Grampy staggered to the bin and rummaged through it looking for his hat. He dug deeper and deeper until in he fell, to the crowd’s delight, his legs flailing in the air.

  As Lexie completed her last trick, she turned Featherfoot to the audience and found them on their feet, laughing and applauding. She met her sisters in the middle of the track and together they rode over to the rubbish bin.

  Together they leaned down and pulled Grampy out. He looked delighted to have found his hat. He smiled and grinned and hugged it to his chest. Everyone clapped happily for him.

  Grampy stood tall, smiled at the crowd and took a deep reverent bow, sweeping his hat in a wide arc. Then he stood and placed it back on his head.

  Lexie could not have been prouder. Grampy was a genius! The crowd loved him. She smiled at her sisters as they joined hands and asked their horses to bow. Tinker, Featherfoot and Kismet all dropped on one knee and lowered their muzzles to the ground.

  The crowd applauded wildly. The mayor was on his feet. Lexie waved. She had done it. Maybe, just maybe, the buckle would be returned to her.

  She looked across the glass case, where the buckle had been, but it was gone. Someone must have taken it out for the presentation already. The elation of the performance was instantly replaced by nerves. What if they hadn’t performed well enough? What if they lost the belt buckle?

  Suddenly all the smells of the festival swirled together into one giant, nauseating waft of odour. The blood drained from her face. She couldn’t even get off her horse.

  ‘You okay, sis?’ asked Kit, leaning over and taking Featherfoot’s reins.

  Lexie shook her head and tried not to inhale, but somewhere, someone was cooking up old work boots
.

  The Trickstars and the Hexley High Flyers took their places in front of the mayor’s marquee. It was crowded with people. Amid the throng, Lexie could hear the mayor complaining again. ‘What do you mean, it’s gone? Who took it? Oh, for the love of pumpkins, somebody go and find the wretched thing!’

  There were raised voices and accusatory shouts. The mayor’s voice rose above them all. ‘Just find the jolly thing!’

  What was he talking about? Not the buckle, surely. It was right there in the glass case. She had seen it herself just a moment ago…

  Lexie’s next breath froze in her chest.

  She had not seen it just a moment ago…

  No, it couldn’t have been stolen. It would turn up in a minute. Some well-meaning person had probably taken it to give it a good polish.

  She looked across to Silvanus, who looked as disturbed as she did. It couldn’t have been him, he was on the trick-riding field with her the whole time. Or was he?

  The mayor continued to rant. ‘You blundering idiots. It’s been right under your noses!’

  From the corner of her eye, Lexie saw Harry Chalkman duck under the side flap of the marquee and slip out into the festival grounds. Once clear of the tent, he burst into a run.

  Harry the horse-hater? Surely not!

  He ran through the crowd towards the hay maze. Lexie spun Featherfoot about and took off after him. She heard a second set of hoof beats behind her and glanced back. Silvanus had seen him too.

  The maze was built from enormous bales of hay. When Lexie rode into the giant leafy puzzle, she could barely see over the top. She turned left, hit a wall and backed out again, urging Featherfoot to keep trotting as fast as he could. Soon she was utterly lost. No matter which way she went, she hit a dead end.

  Then Harry ran into view. He saw her and stopped, staring with red-rimmed eyes. Had he been crying? He turned and bolted before she could find out.

  Lexie rode after him. Left and right, they twisted and turned until she came to another dead end. Where was he hiding?

  Little stalks of hay stuck to her clothes. Soon she was so itchy she had to stop and scratch her wrists and neck. That’s when she heard him. Through the hay bale next to her, Harry sneezed. It was muffled, as though he was trying to hold it back. But after a few more seconds, he sneezed again.

  Lexie stood up on her saddle and peered over the bales. There he was, eyes closed, trying to breathe. His nose was bright red and his eyes were runny. He scratched at his neck and rubbed his eyes. Did he have hay fever?

  She spied on him a moment longer and noticed his trousers hung heavily to one side. The buckle must be in one of his pockets!

  From up high she could see that Harry was at a dead end. She slipped back into the saddle and rode Featherfoot around the corner to where he stood sneezing. ‘Little bit lost, are we?’ she said.

  Harry tried to bolt but he couldn’t get past Featherfoot, and he had nowhere else to go.

  ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Let me get out of here. I… I … ca … can’t … ’ He inhaled loudly and sneezed again. ‘…breathe!’

  ‘Give me back my buckle first,’ said Lexie.

  ‘I have no idea what you’re … ah … ah … ah choo!’

  ‘You do so,’ she said. ‘I can see it in your pocket. Now give me my buckle back.’

  ‘It’s not your buckle,’ said Harry. ‘It hasn’t been awarded to you. You don’t know whose buckle it is.’

  Lexie was taken aback at his meanness. ‘What did I ever do to you?’ she said, shaking her head. Then she had a sudden realisation. ‘You cut the stitching on my bridle too!’ It hadn’t been Silvanus at all.

  ‘You think you’re so great,’ he sneered. ‘You and your smelly carthorses. It’s all Dad talked about for a week. Your famous grandfather and your amazing talent.’

  ‘So what’s wrong with that?’ she said. She was not going to apologise for having fun. She would not hide her family’s history. She was proud of it.

  ‘He was supposed to write an article about me!’ Harry yelled. ‘He promised me he would write about my juggling act at the talent show, but then he totally forgot!’ His eyes streamed and she couldn’t tell if it was the hay fever or real tears. ‘He spent the whole afternoon interviewing you!’

  ‘No he didn’t…’ Then Lexie remembered. Analita had granted Mr Chalkman an interview. She hadn’t known at the time. ‘It’s not my fault your dad forgot you,’ she said.

  Harry looked so dejected, she almost felt sorry for him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the buckle. Lexie’s heart lifted at the sight of it as he held it out to her.

  She leaned down to grab it, but as she turned Featherfoot to a tricky angle, Harry ducked between him and the hay and sprinted away.

  ‘Hey!’ Lexie yelled.

  Within a couple of turns, she had lost Harry, but she almost bowled over Silvanus.

  ‘Where is he?’ she asked desperately. ‘Did you see him?’

  Without answering, Silvanus spun about and ran back out of the maze. Lexie followed.

  ‘He went that way!’ Seth trotted past on the skewbald trick horse, following Harry towards the cake competition.

  Lexie watched as Harry bolted past tables of lemon meringues and passionfruit pavlovas. He swerved around the spaghetti-eating competitors and jumped over rows of carved pumpkins. People dived out of his way.

  Lexie trotted after him, soon joined by Ruby and Kit. Within minutes, she saw Harry on the edge of the fruit-rolling field, standing with his hands in his pockets, trying to blend in with the crowd. Seth had seen him too. He beckoned Lexie over with a wave of his arm. He passed her his reins and slipped off the horse. ‘Let me get him,’ he said. For a brief moment, she wondered whether to trust him. But Seth was bigger and stronger than Harry. He would have a better chance of getting the buckle. Lexie took the skewbald and watched Seth walk into the small mob of people. He snuck up behind and grabbed Harry by the elbows, holding him tightly.

  ‘Hey! Let go of me,’ Harry yelled. He began to struggle, but Seth’s grip was strong, and Harry eventually gave up.

  Silvanus appeared next to them. His hands dived into Harry’s pockets. He pulled out the buckle and held it in the air, whooping victoriously.

  Lexie’s heart sank. Would he give it back? Or would he try to claim it as theirs?

  ‘Give that to the mayor!’ It was Shadrak. Grampy stood just behind him.

  There was silence in the marquee as everyone stood before Mayor Thomas. The Hexley High Flyers and the Trickstars held their horses, waiting for the announcement.

  When Lexie found the courage to look up she saw two police officers off to the side, holding on to Harry. His parents were nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Tell me again, what is so special about this buckle?’ said the mayor, turning it over in his hands.

  Lexie was hit with a sudden attack of nerves. She tried to speak, but her tongue went rubbery. She took a breath and steadied herself. ‘It was left to me by my grandmother,’ she said.

  ‘It was never hers to start with,’ said Shadrak. He began to tell the mayor about the filly. ‘The Trickstars bribed the judges.’

  ‘They did nothing of the sort.’ Now it was Analita’s turn to step forward. She was holding a yellowed slip of paper. Grampy and the triplets gave her questioning looks.

  ‘I looked up that judge,’ said Analita. ‘He’s still alive and he still had the receipt for that filly. He sent it to me express.’

  She unfolded it and presented it to the mayor. ‘As you can see, the judge paid quite a sum for her, for the time. Certainly a fair price.’

  Mayor Thomas took a while to read the faded writing. Eventually he took his glasses off, folded them and slipped them into his pocket. He passed the note to Shadrak. ‘This seems to disprove your theory.’

  Shadrak held the note and his eyebrows furrowed as he read it.

  ‘Why didn’t you show this before we rode?’ Grampy asked Analita.

  ‘It needed
to be resolved once and for all,’ said Analita. ‘The girls had to ride.’

  ‘Young lady,’ Mayor Thomas said to Lexie, nodding towards the golden buckle in his hand, ‘I believe this belongs to you.’ He raised an eyebrow at Shadrak. ‘Wouldn’t you agree?’

  Shadrak handed back the receipt and gave a reluctant nod.

  ‘But, Mr Mayor––’ Ruby began, and Lexie already knew what she was going to say. Ruby couldn’t help herself. ‘Is it really ours? I mean, did we win it?’ Her eyes were filled with hope.

  The mayor looked thoughtful for a while. ‘It was a tough call. The Hexleys were very impressive.’

  The triplets’ faces fell.

  ‘But in the end,’ the mayor continued in a stony voice, ‘it takes a special talent to make an old grump like me laugh.’ He raised one bushy eyebrow at Lexie. ‘Looks like you’ve won your buckle twice over.’

  Caught between crying and laughter, all Lexie could do was stand there and gaze at the golden buckle the mayor passed to her. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. Her sisters squealed and hugged her.

  The crowd went crazy, clapping and cheering. Lexie turned to Featherfoot and buried her face into his shaggy mane, partly because she loved him so much, partly because she felt suddenly shy, but mostly because a smell worse than Grampy’s cabbage stew was wafting up her nose.

  When the excitement died down, Lexie approached Silvanus and cleared her throat. ‘Thanks for helping me get the buckle back.’

  Silvanus shrugged. ‘Just call it even for the Phantosmia,’ he said, a cheeky glint in his eye.

  Shadrak nudged him with his elbow. ‘And?’

  Silvanus gave her a sheepish look. ‘The third herb was never nightshade. I just tricked you. It was burdock. All you need is peppermint to reverse the whole thing.’

  ‘Peppermint?’ Lexie was stunned. Such a simple, common herb. In fact, only today she had seen someone selling pots of it from a plant stand.

  She automatically started walking away. Where had she seen those herb pots?

  Much later that afternoon, the Trickstars climbed into Grampy’s old truck. Featherfoot, Kismet and Tinker nickered happily in the back. Behind them was a large trailer loaded with hay bales from the maze. The mayor had donated them to Windara Farm as an extra prize.