The Lady of the Little Lamps

Part One. Golden Footprints

On Monday morning, the golden footprints were still there.

They went all the way up the school steps, small and neat and shining, as if someone had walked through wet paint made of sunshine. At the top, on the doormat, lay a single pink lotus flower with the dew still on its petals. Beside it was a note on thick cream paper. It said, in curly writing: Back in a minute. Please don't touch the lamps. Love, L.

"She has lovely handwriting," said Maya.

"Who's L?" said Ollie.

"Lakshmi," said Elfine. She had her notebook out already. "I'm almost sure."

The first thing we noticed, when we went inside, was how lucky everything was.

Kenji found the missing page of his reading book, folded in his own pocket. Ollie's wobbly tooth came out in the middle of a sneeze and landed, tooth side up, in a cup of squash, which Ollie said was the best luck anyone had ever had. Mister Harris won the staffroom raffle for the third time in one morning. Even the stuck door on the stationery cupboard swung open by itself, and a whole box of gold stars fell into Dot's arms.

"Good morning, everybody," said a warm voice.

A lady was standing in the doorway of the office. She wore a deep pink sari with golden edges, and a long shining necklace of tiny gold coins that jingled when she moved. Her eyes were kind and bright. On her shoulder sat a small grey-and-white owl, who blinked at us slowly, as if he had seen it all before.

Her badge said Mrs Lakshmi, School Secretary and Good Luck.

Part Two. Elfine Has a Fact

Willow trotted straight up to Mrs Lakshmi, looked at her for a long moment, and rubbed against her ankles.

"Goodness," said Marion. "She never does that."

"Willow knows a good person when she meets one," said Mrs Lakshmi, scratching her gently behind the ears. The owl looked at Willow. Willow looked at the owl. They both nodded very slightly, like two professionals who respected each other's work.

"I know exactly who you are," said Elfine. She pushed her glasses up her nose. "You're the goddess of good fortune and light."

Mrs Lakshmi smiled. "That's one of my jobs," she said.

"She was born from the sea," Elfine whispered to us. "A very long time ago, the gods churned the whole ocean with a mountain, like stirring a giant pot. Remember the Great Churning, from the Shiva story? Lots of treasures came bubbling up, one after another. And the last one was her, sitting on a lotus flower, glowing like the sun. And elephants poured water over her to welcome her."

"And she picked Vishnu," said Marion, who had been reading too.

"She's the goddess of luck, and wealth, and a happy home," said Elfine. "And she gets most excited about one night of the year."

"Which night?" said Felix.

"Diwali," said Mrs Lakshmi. She clasped her hands together. "The festival of lights. On the darkest night of the autumn, when there is no moon at all, millions of people light tiny lamps, called diyas, and put them in their windows and doorways and gardens. They say light is stronger than dark. And they invite me to come and visit."

"And you do?" said Alex.

"I walk from house to house," said Mrs Lakshmi. "But only the ones with the lamps lit, and the doors open. I like a welcome."

Part Three. The Story of the Lamps

"But why lamps?" said Dot.

"Ah," said Mrs Lakshmi. "That's the best part. Elfine, shall I tell it, or would you like to?"

Elfine went red. "You," she said. "Please. You were there."

So Mrs Lakshmi told us the story, sitting on the edge of the school hall stage, with her owl on one shoulder and Willow in her lap.

"Long ago," she said, "there was a prince named Rama, who lived in a city called Ayodhya. He was good and kind and brave. But he was sent away to live in the forest for fourteen long years. His wife, Sita, went with him. And so did his loyal brother, Lakshmana."

She looked straight at Alex and Felix.

"Brothers who would do anything for each other," she said.

"Like us," said Felix.

"Exactly like you," said Mrs Lakshmi. "Now, there was a king in a faraway island called Lanka. His name was Ravana. He had ten heads, and twenty arms, and he was very clever and very proud. And one day, he tricked Sita and carried her away in a flying chariot."

"Did anybody rescue her?" said Dot.

"Yes," said Mrs Lakshmi. "Rama and Lakshmana set out to find her. And they met a great army of monkeys, led by a mighty monkey called Hanuman, who could fly and leap over mountains."

Every head in the room turned to look at Kenji, who has a Hanuman poster over his bed.

"Together," said Mrs Lakshmi, "they built a bridge of stones across the sea. They crossed to Lanka. They defeated Ravana. And then, at last, after fourteen years, Rama and Sita and Lakshmana came home. It was the night of the new moon. The sky was pitch black. And the people of Ayodhya wanted to light the way. So they lit a row of tiny lamps all down the road. And that is what we do every Diwali. We light the way home."

She smiled. "And this year, I thought we should put on the play."

Part Four. The First Lamp

"The play?" said Maya.

"For the Diwali Assembly," said Mrs Lakshmi. "Mister Harris has already said yes. We shall have costumes. And scenery. And lamps. I would like Alex to be Rama, and Felix to be Lakshmana, and Elfine to be Sita."

"What about me?" said Marion.

"The monkey builders need a chief engineer," said Mrs Lakshmi.

Marion's mouth dropped open. "Yes!"

"And Dot?"

"I've got a special part for you," said Mrs Lakshmi, with a twinkle. "But I shan't say what. It's a surprise."

We practised all Tuesday afternoon, in the hall with the curtains closed. Kenji was a monkey. Ollie was a monkey. Maya was a monkey, with a clipboard. Willow was in charge of the props, which meant she sat on a stool and watched. And Mister Hanu, the PE teacher with the long curling tail, who had been hanging upside-down from the beams, swung down to help.

"Good grief," whispered Ollie. "He actually is Hanuman."

"Quiet," said Kenji. "He's helping."

At four o'clock, Mrs Lakshmi stood in the middle of the stage and took out a small clay lamp.

"Before we begin," she said, "we should light the first diya. For luck."

She struck a match. The little flame flickered, and caught.

And the walls of the hall melted away.

Part Five. The Forest

It was a real forest.

Tall green trees rose on every side. Warm sunshine slanted through the leaves. A stream chuckled over mossy stones, and the air smelled of flowers. We were still wearing our play costumes, but they felt different now, as if they had grown onto us. Alex was wearing a golden crown. Felix had a quiver of arrows on his back. Elfine wore a simple green dress, and a thin silver bracelet on her wrist.

"We're in the story," said Maya, in awe. She was holding her clipboard, which had turned into a scroll.

"Is this real?" whispered Ollie.

"It's real enough," said Mrs Lakshmi's voice, from somewhere among the trees. "Remember, the story has to be finished. You'll know when the lamps are lit."

Willow was sitting on a rock, ears pricked. All of a sudden, her back arched, and she hissed.

A beautiful golden deer had stepped out of the bushes. Its coat shone like polished metal, and its eyes were like jewels.

"Oh!" cried Elfine, who was Sita now. "Alex, Felix, look! A golden deer! Could you catch it for me?"

Alex stepped forward. But Felix put his hand on his arm.

"Wait," said Felix. "Willow's hissing."

"Is that a sign?" said Alex.

"She's never wrong," said Felix. "She hissed at Mister Raven. And she hissed at Mister Coyote. And they were both tricksters. This deer is a trick."

Alex looked at the deer. It twitched. A strange shadow seemed to flicker across its coat.

"You're right," said Alex slowly. "I'm glad you said."

"Brothers listen to each other," said Felix.

The golden deer gave a hiss of its own, and bolted into the trees. But it had done its job. While we were all staring at it, a poor old man in a ragged robe had hobbled up to Elfine, holding out a wooden bowl.

"Kind lady," he croaked. "I am very hungry."

Elfine, who is the kindest person in the world, stepped forward with a bit of bread. And the old man threw off his robe, and there stood a giant with ten heads, all of them cackling.

Part Six. Mister Ten

Ravana was enormous. He had ten faces, five on top and five below, and they were all talking at once.

"Got her!" said the first head.

"Are we sure about this?" said the second.

"Did anyone bring biscuits?" said the third.

"I think it's a bad idea," said the fourth.

"I think it's a great idea," said the fifth.

"Can we go home yet?" said the sixth.

"We can't go home until we've done the thing," said the seventh.

"What thing?" said the eighth.

"Be quiet, all of you," said the ninth. "I'm trying to do some villainy."

"You never listen to me," said the tenth, mournfully.

He scooped up Elfine in his twenty arms. A great flying chariot swooped down out of the sky, pulled by golden donkeys. Elfine threw her silver bracelet to the ground, as hard as she could.

"Follow the bracelets!" she shouted. "I'll drop more!"

And the chariot soared away over the tops of the trees.

"ELFINE!" shrieked Marion.

Alex picked up the bracelet. His hands were shaking. Felix took the other end, and for a moment they just held it between them, looking at each other.

"We're going to find her," said Alex.

"Together," said Felix.

"Together," said Alex. "That's a promise. Rama always keeps his promises."

"And Lakshmana never leaves his brother," said Felix.

Part Seven. The Monkey King's Friend

We walked for days. Or perhaps it was minutes. Time was strange in the story.

At the edge of the forest, on top of a high rocky hill, we found a troop of monkeys, hanging from the trees and chattering. At the front of them, with his arms folded, stood a magnificent figure with a curling golden tail and a silver mace resting on one shoulder.

"Mister Hanu?" said Ollie.

"Hanuman," said Hanuman, with a deep laugh. His voice had changed. It was rich and warm and rumbled like a drum. "I've been waiting for you. I saw the chariot go by. I know exactly where Sita is."

"Where?" said Alex and Felix, at once.

"On an island called Lanka," said Hanuman. "Across the sea. It's far, far away. Too far for any monkey to jump."

"Except you," said Kenji.

Hanuman grinned. "Except me." He turned to Alex and Felix and held out his big hand. "Give me something that she will know is yours, and I will carry it to her, to say that you are coming."

Alex took the ring from his own finger. Felix took Elfine's silver bracelet from his pocket. They held them out together, and Hanuman took them both.

Then he grew. His shoulders swelled. His arms stretched. He grew taller than the trees, tall as a mountain, until his head was among the clouds. And with one tremendous leap, he sprang into the sky, and cleared the whole wide sea in a single bound.

"He did it," whispered Dot.

"Of course he did," said Kenji, with a sigh of happiness.

Part Eight. The Bridge

When Hanuman came back, three days later, he was covered in soot, and his tail was smoking.

"I found her," he said, between gasps. "She's safe. She's in a garden. Ravana has been trying to scare her, but she won't be scared. She's telling him stories, and every time he gets cross, she starts another one, and his ten heads can't stop listening."

"That's Elfine," said Marion proudly.

"I gave her Alex's ring and her own bracelet," said Hanuman. "She knows you're coming. And, ah, I may have set fire to a few things."

"A few things?" said Maya.

"A few hundred buildings," said Hanuman, looking at his tail. "It's a long story."

"But how do we cross the sea?" said Alex.

"We build a bridge," said Marion.

She had been drawing plans on the ground with a stick. She jumped up on a rock and held up her arms. "Monkeys!" she shouted. "I need stones! I need boulders! Every rock you can find! Pass them down the line!"

The monkeys roared. Hundreds of them formed a long chain down the beach, passing great boulders hand to hand. Kenji, Ollie and Maya were in the middle of the line. Marion directed, running up and down, swinging a rope, shouting plans. Little by little, stone by stone, the bridge began to stretch out across the waves.

But there was one worker nobody had noticed. A tiny, soft-furred squirrel was scurrying up and down the beach. She rolled in the wet sand, scampered along the bridge, and shook herself off over the gaps. A tiny pinch of sand fell into each crack.

"What's she doing?" said Alex.

"She's helping," said Felix.

"Too small to carry a stone, isn't she," said Alex.

"But she's carrying what she can," said Felix.

Alex picked up the squirrel in his cupped hands. It was Dot. She had a tiny bushy tail, and bright black eyes, and sand on her nose.

"I'm only small," said the squirrel, in Dot's voice. "But I can do this."

Alex gently stroked down her back, from her head to her tail, with three fingers. Felix stroked down after him, with three more. And where their fingers passed, three soft stripes appeared on her fur.

"That is the bravest squirrel in the story," said Alex.

"And the smallest," said Felix. "So she wins by a mile."

Part Nine. The Arrows

We crossed the bridge at dawn, thousands of us, with the sea glittering on both sides.

On the island of Lanka stood a tall, dark city, with golden towers and black walls. In front of the gates, Ravana's army was waiting. Dark shapes, with glowing eyes.

"Don't be afraid," said Hanuman, striding at the front. "They look scarier than they are."

But Ravana's son, a dark prince with a silver bow, was hiding in the clouds. He loosed two arrows, one after the other. They flashed down out of the sky and turned into twisting silver snakes. They wrapped round Alex and Felix, tight, tight, from shoulders to knees, and pulled them back to back, so neither could move.

"ALEX!" shrieked Marion.

"FELIX!" cried Ollie.

"We're stuck," said Alex. He could barely breathe.

"I can't move my arms," said Felix.

The snakes squeezed tighter. The twins' faces went pale. The monkeys cried out in horror. Willow leapt onto a rock and hissed so loudly that her fur stood on end like a brush.

"Stay calm," said Alex, in a small voice. "Don't panic. Breathe."

"I'm not scared," said Felix. His voice shook. "I mean I am. But I'm not alone."

"Neither am I," said Alex. "You're right here."

"Hold on," roared Hanuman. "I know what to do. There is a mountain, far to the north, that grows a special healing herb. Its leaves glow in the dark. If I can bring it back before sunrise, I can save them."

"How far is it?" said Maya.

"A very long way," said Hanuman. He launched himself into the sky. "But I'm a very fast monkey."

Part Ten. The Whole Mountain

Hanuman flew all night.

He flew over deserts and rivers and forests. He flew till his arms ached and his tail drooped. At dawn, he found the mountain, but it was covered in thousands of plants, and every one of them glowed. He couldn't tell which was the right one.

So Hanuman did what only Hanuman would do.

He picked up the whole mountain.

He balanced it on his palm, with all its trees and rocks and glowing herbs, and he flew back to Lanka with it, like a waiter carrying a very large tray. He arrived just as the first red sunlight was creeping over the walls. He held it out over the twins, and the healing scent of the herbs drifted down.

The silver snakes loosened. They hissed. They shrank. They turned back into arrows and clattered to the ground. Alex gasped. Felix coughed. Colour flooded back into their faces. They rolled apart and sat up, and took deep, shuddering breaths.

"Thank you," whispered Alex.

"I thought I'd lost you," said Felix.

"You'd never lose me," said Alex. "I'd just find you again."

Hanuman put the mountain down very gently, in a nice flat spot. He wiped his brow with his tail. "Right," he said. "That was a lot. Shall we go and rescue Sita?"

Part Eleven. The Ten-Headed Argument

The gates of Lanka swung open, and out stormed Ravana himself.

He was bigger than before. All his heads were frowning. In every one of his twenty hands, he held a weapon: swords, spears, axes and clubs. He towered over us like a living thundercloud.

"WHO DARES COME TO MY ISLAND?" he roared.

"We do," said Alex.

"Let Sita go," said Felix.

"NEVER!" roared Ravana. "She is mine! I am the most powerful king in the world! I have ten heads, so I am ten times as clever as anyone else!"

"I told you this was a bad idea," whispered the fourth head.

"Quiet," whispered the ninth.

"I'm hungry," whispered the third.

Alex stepped forward. He and Felix stood side by side, with the sea wind in their hair. They weren't scared any more. They were calm.

"You don't have to do this," said Alex. "You can say sorry. You can let her go, and make things right."

"Everyone makes mistakes," said Felix. "Even kings. The brave thing is to fix them."

For a moment, something flickered across Ravana's ten faces. The first head looked doubtful. The fifth head looked ashamed. The tenth head, the sad one, whispered: "He might be right."

But the other nine heads shouted him down. "NEVER!"

"Then we have to stop you," said Alex quietly.

Marion had been listening from the back of the line. "I've got an idea," she shouted. "Ravana's too proud. He thinks nobody can beat him. What if two people hold the bow at once?"

Alex and Felix nodded.

Part Twelve. One Arrow, Two Hands

Rama's golden bow was lying at their feet. It was far too big for one boy. It was as tall as Alex, and as heavy as an oak branch.

Alex picked it up. Felix stood behind him, and wrapped his arms round the bow, so that his hands were over his brother's. Together they pulled back the string. The golden arrow flashed in the sun. It was no ordinary arrow. It glowed with a pure white light, like a tiny star.

"One," whispered Alex.

"Two," whispered Felix.

"Three," they said.

The arrow flew.

It sang across the sand. It shot between Ravana's flailing arms. It struck him square in the chest, and he stopped. His ten heads fell silent. And then, one by one, the heads faded, like smoke, until there was nothing left but a gentle swirl of glitter on the wind.

It floated up over the sea and was gone.

No one cheered. For a moment, there was only the sound of the waves.

"Was he bad?" said Dot, in a small voice.

"He chose to be," said Hanuman gently. "But he wasn't always. He was clever, and he could have been great. He let his pride get too big. That's all."

"The tenth head wanted to say sorry," said Felix.

"I know," said Alex. "I think that's why it was so quiet at the end."

Part Thirteen. The Long Way Home

Elfine was waiting in the garden, on a stone bench, with her notebook on her lap. She looked up, and her whole face lit up.

"I knew you'd come," she said. "I told Ravana you would. I told him all about the Gobbler and the dragons and the Storm Lord. I think he was getting jealous."

"You told him stories?" said Marion, running up and throwing her arms round her.

"Every night," said Elfine. "As long as I was telling a story, he wasn't doing anything scary. It's the oldest trick in the book."

She hugged Alex and Felix, one in each arm.

"You came together," she said. "I always knew you would."

Then we all turned for home.

The journey back took the whole night. We crossed the bridge in darkness, with no moon, and the stars shining dimly overhead. It was the darkest night of the year. We could hardly see our own feet. Dot walked beside Marion, holding on to her sleeve, with her stripy tail drooping. Kenji and Ollie held hands. Maya stopped writing, because there was too little light to see the page.

"I can't tell where we're going," whispered Maya.

"Neither can I," said Alex. "But we're nearly home."

Then Felix pointed. "Look."

Part Fourteen. The Lamps

Far away, on the edge of the horizon, a golden light was glowing.

Then another. And another. And a whole row of them, stretching along the road, glimmering in the dark like fallen stars.

It was the people of Ayodhya. They had come out of their houses with clay lamps in their hands. They had lined the road, from the city gate to the river. Thousands upon thousands of small flames flickered in the night. Children held them. Grandparents held them. Everyone was singing.

"They're lighting the way," said Elfine softly.

"For us," said Dot, and her eyes shone.

We walked between the lamps, hand in hand, down the long golden road. Every flame lit up another. It was warm. It was beautiful. And the closer we got, the more we realised that the faces behind the lamps looked familiar.

There were Mister Harris and Missus Tibbs, holding a diya each. There was Mister Raven, with a lamp balanced on his beak. Mister Coyote was there, carrying two, one in each hand, and trying very hard not to eat the oil. Miss Pele and Miss Namaka were holding a lamp together, between them. Mister Hadad stood in the rain, holding an umbrella over a row of tiny flames. Even Mister Ananzi had spun a thread across the road, with a tiny lamp at every crossing.

"You're all here," said Dot, with her hands over her mouth.

"Of course we are," said Mister Raven. "Light's better when it's shared."

Part Fifteen. What Mrs Lakshmi Said

We woke up in the school hall.

The curtains were still shut. The little clay lamp was still flickering on the stage, exactly where Mrs Lakshmi had lit it. The clock on the wall said five minutes past four. We had been gone for no time at all.

Mrs Lakshmi was sitting on the edge of the stage with the owl on her shoulder, smiling at us, with her eyes shining.

"Thank you," she said. "That was the best Diwali play I have ever seen."

Dot looked down at her arms and let out a gasp. On the back of her cardigan, soft and silvery, were three faint stripes. They glowed gently, and then faded.

"I was a squirrel," she whispered.

"You were the best squirrel," said Mrs Lakshmi. "And do you know why? Because you didn't wait until you were big. You did what you could, with what you had. A tiny bit of sand. A little lamp. A small light. That is what Diwali is about. All the small lights, together, make the dark go away."

She turned to Alex and Felix.

"And you two," she said. "Brothers who listened, and held on, and gave even Ravana a chance. That is real wealth."

"We were scared," said Alex.

"I know," said Mrs Lakshmi. "But light isn't the absence of being scared. It's lighting a lamp anyway."

She picked up the little clay lamp and held it out to them. "Would you like to light the others?"

Alex and Felix took the lamp between them. And together, they lit every diya on the stage, one after another, until the whole hall glowed.

Part Sixteen. The Ending, with a Hook

Diwali night came on Sunday, and it was the best night of the whole year.

Every window of the school was lined with tiny glowing lamps. A row of them marched down the front steps. The play went off perfectly, and Mister Harris cried at the end. Alex and Felix's nana clapped so hard that her bracelets flew off. Mrs Lakshmi stood in the doorway, with her owl on her shoulder, as the families came in, greeting everyone by name.

And late that evening, when everyone had gathered on the school field to watch the fireworks, something strange happened.

The sky was full of sparkles. Every window of the school glowed with its little lamps. And, in the middle of it all, Alex and Felix noticed that the ground at the edge of the field was shaking.

Not much. Just a gentle thump, thump, thump.

"What's that?" said Alex.

"Look," said Felix.

Over the fence, coming down the hill behind the school, was a tiny wooden hut. It was standing on two enormous yellow chicken legs. The legs were scratching at the earth, one after the other, like a hen looking for corn. A thin plume of smoke curled from the chimney.

There was a small round window. In the window, a candle was flickering. And behind the candle, a face was peering out. It was old and crooked and wrinkled, with a long, pointed nose and a very pointy chin. A pair of bright, curious eyes glinted in the candlelight.

"Is that a house?" said Ollie.

"It's got legs," said Kenji.

"I think," said Elfine, her voice shaking, "that it's Baba Yaga."

The hut stopped at the school gate, and squatted down, with a creak, like an old hen settling on her nest. The door swung open. A cracked, cackling voice drifted out.

"Hello, hello, my little darlings! I hear you have a lovely school. Does it have a kitchen? I have such a wonderful recipe."

Willow arched her back to twice her size. Mister Harris dropped his sparkler. And everybody turned to look at Alex and Felix. The twins looked at each other, with the fireworks flashing red and gold in their eyes, and all the little lamps glowing in the windows behind them. They said, at exactly the same time, "Monday."

The End.