The Merlin Conspiracy by Jones Diana Wynne

Author:Jones, Diana Wynne [Jones, Diana Wynne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Young Adult, Childrens, Adventure, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780007507641
Amazon: 000750764X
Goodreads: 21895349
Publisher: Harpercollins Children's Books
Published: 2003-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

It was very hot. Grundo and I sat in the shade of the castle gate, drearily discussing what to do. Even if we could get to Liverpool or Southampton or Newcastle, we didn’t know which and we had almost no money.

“We have to get to somewhere where people know where the King is for certain,” Grundo said.

“That’s not so easy,” I said. “He changes his mind all the time. And they change the far-speaker codes every day. The only ones we’ve got are long out of date. We can’t even call them up and ask.”

“Your other grandfather found the Progress easily enough,” Grundo said.

“That’s because he’s a Magid,” I said. “I wish we could go to Grandad in London, but that’s almost as far away as the port cities. We could call my grandmother up, though. Let’s go back to the castle and ask to use their far-speaker.”

We trudged all the way back up the winding drive, where we rang at the shiny brass bell-pull again. We rang several times. After that, Grundo heaved up the huge iron knocker and knocked. No one came. It was obvious no one was going to come.

“It stands to reason,” Grundo said miserably, as we trudged down to the gate again. “A nasty man like Sir James is bound to have nasty servants. They don’t want to know, do they?”

It was a horrible feeling. We sat limply in the shade of the gate once more, completely at a loss.

Eventually, Grundo said wistfully, “I wish I had relations we could go to. Have you got any who might be nearer than London?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I mean I do have the Dimbers, but I’ve never met them. They’re Dad’s family, you see, and Grandad is divorced from my grandmother. They may not want us.”

“How near do they live?” Grundo asked.

“How far is Gloucestershire from here?” I said.

Grundo was galvanised. “You’re hopeless!” he said. He dived for his bag and brought out a map book. “Gloucestershire’s practically next door. We may even be in it here!” He leafed furiously through the book. “Whereabouts in Gloucestershire?”

It was my turn to dive for my bag. I fetched out my address book and found Hyde. That was wrong, because my grandmother had refused to change her name from Dimber. I turned to the Ds and discovered that I really knew the address quite well. Mum made me send them a letter every New Year and cards on their birthdays. “Dimber House, Sutton Dimber,” I read. There was even a far-speaker code, for what good that did us.

Grundo searched the pages of his map book with a slow, studious finger. The maps didn’t bother him, but the writing on them did. “Got it!” he said at last. “And this castle’s on the same page. Roddy, it’s only about forty miles away! We could walk there, if we had to.”

“It would take days!” I said. “Walking’s slow.”

“Then let’s go out on the road and find a car to give us a lift,” said Grundo.

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