Happy Birthday, Sigfried Smith!
April First, Fairy New Year
April First brings us the birthday of Sigfried Smith. First, illustrations starring Siggy. Second, an excerpt from “The Unexpected Rescue of Sigfried Smith,” found in the anthology, Fantastic Schools Hols.
And now:
The Unexpected Rescue of Sigfried Smith!
Sigfried Smith dangled upside down by his left leg, which was clasped in the rocky fist of a Dartmoor giant who strode across the moors in the company of his three gigantic companions. Siggy swung back and forth, his blond curls catching the sunlight like golden flame.
“Are you sure you want me to leave?” Rachel Griffin whispered, watching her blood-brother with concern. Thanks to his chameleon potion, she was invisible as she hovered near him on her bristleless broom.
Silently, she vowed to herself: I am going to save Sigfried!
“They’ve given me until sundown,” he murmured back as he swung. “Do you think you can make it?”
Rachel glanced westward, out over the rolling hills of Dartmoor, calculating. “Yes. I can.”
“Then go.” The young man, who would turn fifteen on the following Monday—if he were not eaten by giants first—spoke with confident cheer. “If you don’t make it back in time, it’s been nice being your blood-brother. Thank you for letting me come home with you on holiday. Your family’s enormous, gigantic, palatial mansion is a much nicer place to spend Spring Break than the dismal orphanage where I grew up. Or even than having to hide in the dorm to avoid the proctors, so they didn’t know I hadn’t left.”
Rachel blinked rapidly.
She was not going to cry.
“Don’t worry,” said Lucky the Dragon. Sigfried’s familiar was also invisible. Rachel could hear his growly voice coming from the left, but she could not see him. “No giant will be eating the boss.”
“No good, Lucky,” Sigfried shook his head. “You can’t rescue me. I gave my word.”
“Boss, if only I had been here!” the dragon’s voice cried plaintively. “We can’t let the giants eat you, just because I wasn’t here!”
“I can’t go back on my word,” said the young man. “What would King Arthur say?”
“Well if he were to come back, boss, and you were dead, he wouldn’t say anything.”
“I won’t die.”
“What are we gonna do?” asked the dragon plaintively.
“I've a cunning plan,” Sigfried replied as he swung. “We have to trust the tiny but brainy blood-sister to carry it out.”
“No tricks now,” warned the giant. His three companions nodded in agreement. The giant looked around. “Who are you talking to?”
“No tricks.” Sigfried crossed his arms, which just made him swing faster, like a pendulum. The young man would have looked calm and collected had his face not been so red from the blood rushing to his head.
“Jolly good, Siggy, I’m on it!” whispered Rachel. As she sped away, she called softly, “Lucky, keep him safe until I get back!”
* * *
Rachel Griffin shot across the moors, her hair billowing behind her like an invisible war banner. As the brown grass of the half-frozen bogs flashed by beneath her, she glanced ahead of her at the sun. It was still a distance above the horizon, but she knew that the security this brought was deceptive. Sunset was at 6:41 today, according to an almanac she had glanced at once and thus memorized. She had a little over an hour to save Sigfried.
She really hoped his plan would work!
Continuing westward, she flew by the giants’ table and chairs, where this had all begun. Her and Sigfried’s wicker hamper and their red and white checkered cloth still lay strewn on the gray, weathered tabletop. Rachel landed at a run and, kneeling, quickly secured the basket on the brace on the back of her steeplechaser.
As soon as this was done, she launched herself into the air again, leaving the tablecloth and the leftovers behind. They could reclaim them later, once Siggy was safe. She shook her head with wonder. How rapidly life had changed. They had set out this afternoon to test some new elixirs her mother had taught Sigfried to make. Twenty minutes ago, the two of them had been enjoying a late picnic, and her most pressing worries had been a minor matter of whether her boyfriend was sincerely busy or deliberately trying to avoid her.
How had it gone from idyllic to nightmarish so quickly?