what is two plus two?’ Pi would ask.
‘Four,’ I would say.
And the whole class would burst out laughing. Apart from Twinkle.
‘Twinkle, tell Amelia the answer.’
And Twinkle would sit up straight and say, ‘Snow.’
‘Yes,’ said Pi. ‘Two plus two is snow. Or you could have said feather duvet.’
And then Twinkle would look at me and apologise for being right, which made it worse.
The other subjects were equally tricky.
There was Writing, Singing (my voice wasn’t cheerful enough), Laughing Even When Times Are Tough (a very difficult lesson), Joke Making, Christmas Studies, Spickle Dancing (a disaster), Practical Drimwickery (even more of a disaster, obviously), Gingerbread, General Happiness and Geography.
Columbus – the geography teacher I had met along with Pi that day in the sweet shop – was a lovely elf, and I had high hopes for his lessons. They sounded quite ordinary and human, but of course they weren’t. Elf geography was as crazy as all the other subjects. The whole of the globe, south of Very Big Mountain, was simply called ‘the Human World’. It didn’t matter if it was Finland or Britain or America or China, it was absolutely all the same to elves, and they left it up to Father Christmas – and now Mother Christmas – to plan which route Father Christmas should travel every year.
Everything this side of the mountain, on the other hand, was studied in great detail. These were called the Magic Places. And they included the Elf Territory (which was made up of Elfhelm, and the Wooded Hills, which was more accurately pixie territory, but apparently pixies were terrible at geography and didn’t care very much about the names of things and so none of them objected). The other Magic Places were Troll Valley, the Ice Plains (where Tomtegubbs could often be found), the Hulderlands (home to the Hulder-folk) and the Land of Hills and Holes.
Days and weeks and months went by. Father Christmas came home late a lot of the time, because this was the busiest year for the workshop ever. Mary was also very busy, as she was in charge of Christmas route planning. She had also begun to take drimwickery classes, so she could unleash her magic, but she was finding it quite difficult. Anyway, they both became very preoccupied and I didn’t want to bother them with my problems, so I just whispered my complaints to Captain Soot, who always purred some comfort.
I’ve always been the kind of person who could look after herself. I’ve always had to, really. And, in fact, for most of the year I made the most of it. And a lot of the time I had fun. A lot of fun. Living in Elfhelm was still a lot better than being an orphan in London.
I often went to Twinkle’s house to play elf tennis, which is exactly like normal tennis but with an imaginary ball rather than a real one. This was one elf sport I was good at, and I wished we could have played it at school. Then I would go home and read or bounce on the trampoline or read while bouncing on the trampoline.
Even my lessons weren’t all bad. Twinkle was fun to sit next to and always told great jokes, and Shortcrust would often entertain us with his spickle dancing at playtime. And even on bad days I kept on saying to myself that things would be much better when the sleighcraft lessons happened. But six months went by. Then seven. Then eight. And soon it was December, and it seemed that I might never be allowed to take part in a sleighcraft lesson and would always have to stay by myself in an empty classroom, staring out of the window at the other pupils in my class flying past in sleighs.
It was getting quite close to Christmas when I first spoke to Mary and Father Christmas about it. It was the day I first heard mention of the Land of Hills and Holes.
‘Where is it?’ I asked Columbus.
‘Very far away. The furthest away it is possible to be, within the Magic Places. About a hundred miles east of Troll Valley.’
‘And who lives there?’
The whole class knew the answer, but instead of giggling at me like they normally did they all went very quiet.
‘Some rather dangerous creatures.’
‘What?’
‘Rabbits.’
It was then my turn to laugh. ‘Rabbits? Rabbits aren’t dangerous.’
Columbus nodded wisely. ‘I see. You are thinking about the kind of rabbits you find in the Human World. Little cute hoppy things with big ears. Hop, hop, hop! Father Christmas told me about them. But no, these rabbits are very different. These rabbits are bigger. They stand on their hind legs. And they are’ – he took a moment, swallowed – ‘deadly.’
‘Deadly?’ I couldn’t help but smile. It sounded so ridiculous.
‘He’s serious,’ whispered Twinkle.
‘Yes,’ said Columbus, whose eyebrows lowered in disapproval. ‘And it’s no laughing matter . . . Who can tell Amelia about the rabbits who live in the Land of Hills and Holes?’
Snowflake was first with her hand up.
‘Yes, Snowflake?’
‘Their ruler is the Easter Bunny.’
I stifled a giggle.
‘Correct,’ said Columbus. ‘Their ruler is the Easter Bunny. Everyone knows that. Well, everyone apart from Amelia. Now, anything else?’
Twinkle, inevitably, put up her hand. ‘They have a very big army. There are thousands of them. Tens of thousands. And hundreds of years ago they had battles with trolls and elves. There were the Troll Wars, which they won, and before that, when elves used to live throughout the whole of the Magic Lands, the Rabbit Army fought them and beat them, and took the Land of Hills and Holes for themselves.’
Columbus, as always, looked very pleased with Twinkle. ‘Exactly. In the very olden days, when the rabbits lived in warrens below the ground, the elves and rabbits lived quite peacefully together. But then one day, when the Easter Bunny took over the army, he had a different idea. He wanted everyone to know about rabbits. Yes, they still kept their warrens to sleep and work in, but they no longer wanted to be scared or to hide away. Especially in summer. They liked the light. They liked the warmth. They wanted to be running free. They wanted to go wherever. Which would have been fine, but they didn’t want anyone but rabbits around them either. They forced the elves out. Well, those elves who made it out alive – which wasn’t many of them.’
‘Oh no,’ I said, ‘how terrible.’
Columbus sighed. ‘Well, it was a very long time ago. And the rabbits keep themselves to themselves and so do we. So there is nothing to worry about.’
‘How can you be sure?’ I asked him.
‘Because he’s the teacher!’ said Twinkle. Everyone laughed as if I was stupid. Still, my head was full of questions and the questions had nowhere to go except out of my mouth.
‘Why is he called the Easter Bunny?’ I asked.
Columbus
