Get What They Deserve by Eoin Colfer

Author:Eoin Colfer [Colfer, Eoin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-09-27T17:00:00+00:00

THE BARN’S LOFT,

CHILDERBLAINE ESTATE

SOME MINUTES LATER, BECKETT SAT CROSS-LEGGED on a loft hatch of the Childerblaine estate’s barn. He sat there because, as he reasoned, his weight would make the space more difficult to access should Teddy or one of his clones try to investigate. But after several minutes he crawled into a corner because his trembling was making the hatch creak, and it struck him that if someone did try the ceiling-mounted door and find it obstructed, it would make sense for even a dim-witted clone to shoot through the hatch and into the boy who was weighing it down.

And, although Beckett was bodily present and functioning on a basic level in the barn, his mind was replaying the final moments of Whistle Blower’s life – moments he could not accept as reality, even though the images were now seared into his memory.

They had tumbled through the window, boy and troll, sharing the lingering sting from the Clonoscopy charges. Whistle Blower was clamped so tightly to Beckett’s chest that his claws cut through Beckett’s T-shirt to the skin below. There’d been no time for Beckett to strategise or even let instinct find some path to safety, as the electricity was effectively rebooting the airborne boy. Not so with Whistle Blower. The troll was beyond any kind of short-term reboot. Beckett would surely have died had Whistle Blower not flipped them over so they impacted with the boy on top. Even so, the touchdown was not so much a splat as a thump. Beckett was merely winded, which was several notches down the injury scale from death.

Beckett did not understand and, when he could draw breath, he said as much to the troll. ‘What’s going on, Whistle Blower?’ he asked, tears blurring his eyes. He felt that he couldn’t bear to lose another friend.

‘Troll magic,’ breathed Whistle Blower, the words rasping from his mouth.

Beckett rolled off his friend and saw that Whistle Blower was not himself. His face was still recognisable, but the rest of him seemed to be decomposing as Beckett watched. His limbs and innards were bursting open in soft blooms of vine and flowers, which intertwined eagerly with the existing flora.

‘Our only magic,’ said Whistle Blower. ‘We keep the secret of our race. You are the only human ever to see our return to the earth. It is a special thing.’

Beckett watched his friend’s body expand and bloom with exotic flowers and wriggle with rainbow-coloured worms. ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘And soft,’ said Whistle Blower, his eyes becoming the shining carapaces of beetles.

‘You saved me,’ sobbed Beckett.

Whistle Blower’s mohawk stiffened and became a clutch of reeds. ‘Now you save the other one. Myles. He’s not so bad.’

Whistle Blower smiled and his teeth became salt crystals that dissolved slowly in a pool of Beckett’s tears.

And now Beckett was in the loft. He probably wouldn’t have moved at all had Whistle Blower’s last wish not been to save Myles. That perked up Beckett enough to run away from the approaching clones and hide in the barn.

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