The Scent of Magic

by Cliff McNish

  ‘Mama!’ Yemi wailed. ‘Mama!’

  ‘No!’ Rachel cried. She projected a new smell – the scent of Fola, mingled with cornflower and other smells of his home she recalled. ‘Go to your sister,’ she insisted. ‘Remember, Yemi! Go to your real home! Go home!’

  For a few seconds Yemi’s soft brown eyes blinked at Rachel. Then, without a glance at Calen this time, he shifted. It was a single immense shift that instantly placed him thousands of miles south. Rachel clapped her hands in joy, knowing where he had gone – and looked defiantly across the sky at Calen.

  ‘A small victory!’ Calen conceded. ‘How long do you think Yemi’s dull family can keep him occupied? He’ll return to me soon enough.’ She turned her back on Rachel and continued to lead the ragged troupe north.

  Eric was still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Yemi’s shifting spell. He had never felt such awesome power or control, even from Dragwena.

  ‘That was no ordinary shift,’ he said. ‘Yemi didn’t just use his own magic. He used the magic of the troupe kids to help him.’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘No, that’s not possible. Even a Witch can’t do that.’

  ‘Well, he did,’ insisted Eric. ‘He took what he wanted. A bit from every child, not too much. Not greedy. Just what he needed.’

  ‘Yemi’s peculiarly gifted, isn’t he?’ Morpeth said. ‘His magic seems completely distinctive, unlike that of other children.’

  ‘In every way,’ Eric said. ‘His spells are weird. They’re not like yours or Rachel’s, or Witches’, either.’

  For one magnificent second Rachel thought of Larpskendya. She trembled, the possibility too wonderful to bear.

  ‘More like a Wizard?’ she said, hardly daring to ask. ‘Is his magic like Larpskendya’s?’

  ‘No,’ Eric sighed. ‘It’s not Larpskendya, Rachel. That baby’s magic is not like anything we’ve seen before.’

  As the last of the children ebbed over the horizon with Calen, Eric rummaged in his bulging, lively coat.

  ‘Hiya, boys!’

  The prapsies beamed merrily out of the pockets.

  Eric’s hands were too numb to feel the touch of their feathers. One prapsy rubbed the side of its delicate head against his fingers.

  ‘Flipping heck!’ it said, licking them distastefully.

  The other prapsy rolled its eyes. ‘Oh, don’t be fussy. It’s still Eric.’

  ‘I know, but he’s ice pops. You’re so moody!’

  ‘Shut up, you dinky warbler!’

  ‘Ugly, cutted lips!’

  ‘Are my lips cutted?’ A sorrowful eye turned to Eric for reassurance.

  He rubbed both prapsies’ cheeks with his coat sleeve, not wanting to touch them with his cold fingers. ‘They are cutted,’ he said, ‘but they look good, boys. In fact, you both look great. You are great: like eagles.’

  The prapsies crooned delightedly.

  ‘Time to sort out your frostbite, goldilocks,’ Rachel said.

  Eric smiled. ‘Do the old man first. Age before beauty.’

  ‘Don’t these hurt?’ She examined his swollen fingers.

  He grinned. ‘Can’t feel a thing.’

  ‘I suppose that’s because you’re tough?’

  ‘Dead right.’

  Rachel repaired the worst of Eric’s frostbite. The spells needed were basic enough, but she was tired, so it took some time to finish. Then she attended to Morpeth.

  ‘Save your strength,’ he objected.

  ‘For what?’ she said huskily. ‘What’s more important than this?’

  Morpeth’s back was deeply bruised where he had taken on most of the blows aimed at Eric. Rachel anaesthetized the stinging and carefully mended the worst of the broken blood vessels. Finally she wrapped everyone inside an insulating warmth even the stabbing Arctic winds could not pierce.

  For a while they simply gazed northwards, feeling hungry and weary and anxious.

  ‘What a miserable place this is,’ Eric said. He shaded his eyes, trying to find any details in the whiteness stretching eternally ahead. ‘I bet the Witches love it.’

  Rachel explained what had occurred at the house. ‘If you want, I can take you back home,’ she said seriously. ‘It will be safer there.’

  Eric shook his head. ‘No way. I don’t want to give the Witches or anyone else a reason to go after Mum again.’ He kicked the snows in frustration. ‘Damn! Where’s Larpskendya?’

  ‘He’ll come,’ Rachel said tightly. ‘He will come.’

  ‘If we want to find the Witch-base we need to follow the children quickly,’ Morpeth told them. ‘Before their scent fades or is masked.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ Eric muttered resignedly. ‘I can’t wait to meet all five Witches!’

  Morpeth gazed at both of them. ‘There is an alternative. We could try to find a quiet place to hide and survive, until Larpskendya arrives.’

  ‘No,’ Rachel said. ‘That will leave all children at the Witches’ mercy.’ She thought of Paul, and wondered how long it would take Calen to finally crush his spirit. ‘I’m not just letting the Witches do what they want any more,’ she said. ‘We must at least try to find out where their base is.’

  All three stared northwards, steeling themselves to go on. The wind had picked up, and with it came a light snowfall, squalling into their faces.

  ‘I can still detect Heiki’s scent,’ Eric remarked. ‘She’s wounded, leaving a big trail of magic. It’s, well, leaking out of her.’

  Rachel sent out her information spells. When they returned, she found unexpected tears welling in her eyes. ‘Heiki’s falling further and further behind,’ she said. ‘She’s attempting so hard to keep up, but she can’t. Her injuries are too bad to repair this time.’

  ‘Does she think we’re coming after her?’ Eric asked.

  ‘It’s nothing to do with us,’ murmured Rachel. ‘She’s still trying to impress the Witches. Heiki’s doing everything she can to hide her weakness, especially from Calen.’

  Eric frowned. ‘Why bother? Hasn’t that Witch already given up on her?’

  Rachel shared a look of understanding with Morpeth. On Ithrea it had taken all of her willpower to resist the allure of Dragwena. And she had only needed to resist for a few days. Heiki had spent far longer with the Witches, being made to feel utterly special.

  Poor Heiki had fallen half in love with Calen’s glamour.

  15

  Arrivals

  Heiki hauled her frail body towards the Pole.

  She was too weak to shift. While she still had the strength she flew. When that left her she limped on ankles that had never fully recovered from the hunter. Finally she crawled. It took her over an hour to make the last few windswept yards to the perimeter of the Witch-base.

  Calen met her. She stared contemptuously.

  ‘Why have you returned? There is only more punishment for you here.’

  Heiki knelt shamefully in the snow. ‘Please help me. Please. I am in pain …’

  ‘You failed,’ said Calen. ‘There are no second chances for a failed Witch.’

  ‘I’ll do anything,’ Heiki promised. ‘I’m still willing. Don’t give up on me.’

  ‘I asked you to make me proud. You could not even do that.’

  ‘Please. Give me another chance.’

  ‘No. There is no chance for you now.’

  Calen clenched Heiki’s scalp and carried her like an unwanted bag between the towers.

  ‘What’s going to happen to me?’

  Calen did not reply. Seeing Heiki fiddling with the baby snake, she snatched it from her neck and tossed its hardened body to the ground. Heiki started to cry. She tried not to, but she couldn’t stop the flow, and was too weary to wipe the wetness away.

  She gazed up at Calen. ‘Am I … to be killed?’

  ‘Do you even need to ask?’

  Calen flew to her own eye-tower and dumped Heiki inside.

  Later Calen was summoned by her mother.

  Nervously, she m
ade her way to Heebra’s vast tower, expecting to be severely punished for Heiki’s failure. Nylo squirmed against her throat.

  Heebra stood gazing out of the eye-window. For several minutes she ignored Calen. Eventually she said, ‘Heiki, your favourite, the child you personally trained, was defeated.’

  Calen bowed her head in humiliation.

  ‘You were also mistaken about the other children on this world,’ said Heebra. ‘They can be instructed, but many are defiant or unpredictable.’

  ‘If I have more time …’

  ‘More time!’ screamed Heebra. She turned to face her daughter. ‘It will take an age to forge the children into an army loyal enough to threaten the Wizards!’

  ‘Then—’ faltered Calen, holding Nylo close, ‘do you recommend … we leave?’

  Heebra’s four jaws twisted from anger to amusement. ‘Leave this marvellous world to the Wizards? I think not. No. A new plan: we will drag Larpskendya here as fast as we can!’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Larpskendya has always been the great prize,’ Heebra said. ‘I’ve always known that if we could kill him we could quickly crush the Order of Wizards. For the first time I have an advantage. When the two girls battled I reopened the channel between Rachel and Larpskendya. He cannot communicate, but he sees everything that frightens his preferred child, sees with her eyes.’ Heebra smiled. ‘Heiki served her purpose. I always knew Rachel would defeat her. However, even their little skirmish will have horrified the gentle Larpskendya.’

  ‘Surely he will be too cautious to come.’

  ‘No,’ Heebra said. ‘He will come for his Rachel, count on it. A scout report has already reached me that he is rushing here to protect his cherished Witch-slayer.’

  Calen’s mouths widened. ‘Are we ready? Larpskendya will not be alone.’

  ‘He is alone!’ exulted Heebra. ‘The Griddas have accomplished far more than I ever expected, Calen. We sent them over a wide area. The Wizards needed to scatter to confront them. Larpskendya is presently isolated, with no companions to hold his hand.’ She drew Mak against the skin of her nostrils and sniffed his ripe fragrance. ‘Best of all, Calen, Larpskendya is injured. A Gridda slashed him at the Leppos world! I’ve made sure others in the area have orders to harry and harm him all the journey to Earth. Our Griddas won’t allow him to recover. When Larpskendya arrives he will be exhausted.’

  ‘Will he?’ Calen said uncertainly. ‘His power is immense. Even with your capability amongst us, are we enough with only four other Witches …’

  ‘Only four?’ Heebra laughed. ‘Good. Then you did not detect the coming of the rest. In that case I’m sure Larpskendya will not have done so, either.’

  ‘The rest?’ Calen glanced round.

  ‘I summoned them as soon as I realized how to set the trap.’

  At a gesture from Heebra hundreds of High Witches suddenly appeared. They packed the sky with their magnificence, their black dresses streaming in the breeze. Seeing Calen’s surprise, most were amused.

  ‘How many?’ Calen gasped.

  ‘Seven hundred and fifty-six of our best. They just arrived, fresh and itching to fight. Take control of them, Calen. Let those who wish it start building their own eye-towers, but make sure all the new sisters remain hidden. Rachel expects to find only five Witches. She should continue to believe that. We must have no mistakes now.’

  ‘Larpskendya is bound to suspect a trap,’ Calen said. ‘He will be cautious, survey the position, and not show himself until he is ready.’

  ‘Agreed. So we must make him desperate. When Rachel sees the fun I have planned for the other children here, Larpskendya will dash the final distance. That will draw the last reserves from him.’

  ‘What fun?’ asked Calen, intrigued.

  ‘I want you to create a single prison, isolate the children there and panic them, while Rachel watches.’

  ‘Panic them? How?’

  ‘Start by executing Heiki,’ said Heebra. ‘I want to make a special example of her. If her death does not bring Larpskendya move onto another child – any child, I don’t care who.’

  Calen nodded. ‘How do you want me to execute Heiki?’

  ‘As you wish,’ said Heebra. ‘Wait. A better idea. Choose something – a device – all children will recognize, no matter where they are from.’

  ‘One of their own kind of murder machines?’

  ‘Or something even simpler, perhaps. Talk to the youngest children. Find out what kind of games they share or like to play, and use something from those to frighten them. It’s fear we want now, Calen. Build it up. Terrify all these children, and let Rachel witness it. Make Larpskendya hurry the final stretch.’

  ‘And later? How will we dispose of Rachel?’

  ‘After I’ve used her to capture Larpskendya we’ll both deal with her, each in our own way.’

  Calen left the eye-tower to carry out her orders.

  Heebra glided across the chamber and seated herself. From the height of her meticulously shrouded eye-tower she could observe everything for dozens of miles. Rachel, Eric and Morpeth approached within a primitive spell. Heebra knew exactly where they were. She had deliberately drawn the Witches and all the polar bears away from their perimeter guard to ensure that the children came all the way into the base. The trap was almost complete.

  For the first time since arriving on Earth Heebra permitted herself to relax completely. The view outside pleased her more and more. Snow rarely fell in this part of the world, but it did not melt. Her Witches could make a home here with little difficulty. The first stage would be to replace the disgusting sunlight with Ool’s sensuous darkness. Next they would make the snows pour eternally.

  But such matters could wait. With enormous anticipation Heebra imagined Larpskendya tearing through space, consumed with tiredness and injury, seeing through Rachel’s eyes, trying to arrive in time to stop the bloodshed.

  But he would not stop it. Not this time. This time she and hundreds of her most superb High Witches were ready for him.

  16

  Imprisonment

  Within a cloaking spell Rachel, Morpeth, Eric and the prapsies followed Heiki. They observed her meeting with Calen. Without realizing it, they entered the Witch perimeter watched by hundreds of pairs of tattooed eyes.

  ‘This could be Ithrea,’ said Eric. His voice was barely audible.

  ‘You don’t need to whisper,’ Rachel told him. ‘Our voices can’t be heard.’

  ‘I’ll whisper anyway.’

  The prapsies would not settle. Constantly twitching, they rolled their eyes and tasted the falling snow with suspicious pink tongues.

  ‘Why are they fidgeting so much?’ Rachel asked Eric.

  ‘They’re jumpy, that’s all.’

  One prapsy sniffed the air. ‘A Witch, maybe.’

  The other puckered its lips. ‘Spine-gutters!’

  ‘Shush, boys, I’ll look after you,’ Eric promised, petting their feathers.

  ‘No, listen to them,’ Morpeth said. ‘Remember they spent hundreds of years on Ithrea as Dragwena’s pets.’ He stroked their neck feathers. ‘How many Witches? Can you tell?’

  ‘We see them stinkers!’

  Morpeth nodded impatiently. ‘But how many?’

  ‘Many!’

  ‘Too many to count?’

  Both prapsies peered shrewdly upwards. ‘See there!’ They covered their faces.

  Ahead, the Witch towers had appeared. There were five of them, each over four hundred feet tall, arranged in a faultless circle. Harsh emerald light radiated from the eye-windows, easily penetrating the meagre snowfall.

  ‘There’s no cover for us out here,’ Morpeth said. ‘We daren’t get any closer.’

  ‘To see what’s happening we must,’ Rachel insisted.

  Cautiously she drew them towards the nearest tower. Her spells begged her not to. They wanted her to survive. They told her to shift. They pleaded with her to disguise herself, abandon Eric and Morp
eth, and just get away. Rachel pressed on, ignoring their increasingly frantic warnings.

  In an area of flat undisturbed snow between the towers, they stopped.

  ‘Gutters!’ squealed both prapsies.

  For the first time the Witches showed themselves. Clothed in their skin-tight black dresses, three soared between the eye-windows, entering and leaving so swiftly that their bodies appeared to be inescapably everywhere at once. One Witch, Calen, passed directly over Rachel. She did not look down.

  ‘They can’t see us,’ Rachel said, trying to reassure herself.

  ‘Or they’re pretending not to,’ suggested Morpeth.

  Eric spotted a new structure. ‘What’s that? It wasn’t there earlier.’

  A rough building made from ice was beginning to form inside the ring of the eye-towers. It was three stories high – and growing. Two Witches made short flights around the structure, relaying orders. As floor after floor took shape, Morpeth could not understand how the building was being constructed. Then he saw the meaning of the blurs scrabbling across the slabs of ice.

  ‘The children are making it!’

  Dozens were at work. Supervised by the Witches, the children used their hands and magic to compact the snow into blocks of ice. They moved at speed, shaping the walls and ceilings, taunted by the Witches, who allowed them no rest. Morpeth, Eric and Rachel watched in awe as the entire building was completed in less than an hour.

  ‘What’s it for?’ Eric asked.

  Morpeth said, ‘It’s obviously purpose-built, not made to live inside. Some kind of … prison. See how cramped it is? Each room is just big enough for a child to stand up in, with a single window. And notice: all the windows point in one direction only – towards us.’

  Rachel shuddered. Was that a coincidence? It had to be …

  ‘They’ve finished,’ Eric said. ‘What now?’

  ‘Wait,’ Rachel answered.

  The Witches drove the children to their appointed rooms. They stood at the empty frames of their ice windows, gazing mournfully down.

  At first Rachel thought the children were looking directly at her. Then she realized they were peering down the walls. At the base of the ice prison two Witches waited either side of a small doorway. One was Calen. She opened the door – and a figure shuffled out.