The Cloud Leviathan was also known as an ‘AltiHippo’ or ‘Skywhale’, the latter giving the origin of the name of their native country, Wales. The creature was a coach-sized flying mammal that had so far escaped scientific scrutiny. Kept aloft by a diet of gravity-defying Angel’s Feathers and propelled by four massive flipper-like paddles on the side of its body, it had a large blunt head with a horizontal mouth that could swallow a thousand starlings at one go, or strip a single tree of apples during a high-speed swoop. The tail was long and ended in a small triple fluke which was used for directional purposes, as well as fanning itself in hot weather, and arranging things in its nest.
‘What’s that?’ asked Molly, who was driving past in her Mini, the window open a crack so she could talk, the car’s suspension sagging under her weight.
‘An Australopithecine friend of mine named Ralph.’
‘A what?’
‘I’ll explain later—’
‘That’s it!’ said Molly, pointing at the hominid. ‘That colour.
And she drove rapidly off down the promenade in the direction of Newlyn without a backward glance. I looked at Ralph, who had painted his body with blue warpaint, presumably the shade of cerulean that Trolls don’t like. I made a mental note to ask him for the recipe.
‘I think I’ve found the Leviathan,’ said Tiger, pointing at a huge eye that had opened up in an area of shimmering emptiness, and was staring at him with a great deal of interest.
We called Ralph over. He climbed onto its back and he too promptly disappeared until a hand popped out from behind the chameleonic skin and helped us aboard. On the back of the creature was a very comfortable wooden wheelhouse built of recycled wooden pallets and lined with Welsh blankets.
We were off as soon as Ralph had donned a small pillbox hat and completed a largely unintelligible flight safety announcement – it seemed that his previous life as a human had been spent travelling a lot by air, and this had filtered through as the only way one should fly. On the one-hour journey we were served lunch and a beverage, then persuaded to buy duty-free chocolate, a model of a Leviathan that seemed to be Lego but disappointingly wasn’t, and then a couple of scratch cards which Ralph had designed himself. Tiger won a ‘good-quality stick suitable for burning’ and I won a large brass button.
The journey took us up the north coast of Cornwall and Devon, then cut across the Severn estuary after we had circled twice so Ralph could act out the over-water flight safety briefing. We made landfall at Cardiff over the deserted airport, then carried on north before eventually descending on the far side of the Black Mountains to Clifford, the castle prominent on the river, and home to the Blessed Ladies of the Lobster for over six centuries.
‘Go round a couple of times, would you?’ I asked, and Ralph gently prodded the Leviathan, which began a wide orbit around the orphanage, which we could see was besieged on all sides by Trolls. The nuns were putting up a spirited defence, and were holding them at bay.
‘Okay,’ I said, ‘take us down into the courtyard.’
The Leviathan swung around elegantly, paused to swallow two geese that had the misfortune to be flying past at that moment, then settled onto the grass. Ralph passed me an Angel’s Feather tied to a house brick.51
‘Release when ready.’
Tiger and I disembarked and the Leviathan lifted off behind us. A nun came out to greet us. It was our old PE instructor Sister Asumpta, who had roundly terrified us as children. She recognised us both instantly.
‘Ah!’ she said. ‘Jenny and Tiger. Come just in time to take over the batting, have you? We’re six players down and on a sticky wicket.’
Sister Asumpta always talked in cricket metaphors, taught cricket, thought that cricket was the best game ever, and always carried a cricket bat to stop the orphans – and anyone else – getting out of hand. Tiger and I bowed and curtseyed without even thinking. I explained that I needed to talk to Mother Zenobia as she could have information that would help us defeat Shandar and the Trolls.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I think you’ll find her in the rose garden. Tiger, you’re with me – see if we can bowl a googly and knock the Troll for six.’
