by P. G. Bell
“On your feet,” Commander Kecker said. He jumped down into the road and leveled his trident as Suzy and Wilmot clambered down after him, rubbing the stiffness from their limbs. The other Watch Frogs sprang out of their seats and landed in a protective cordon around them. “Eyes front.”
Suzy turned and got her first look at the Gilded Tower. Its gateway was a mammoth stone frog’s head, five stories tall, its mouth wide open as if to swallow the avenue in front of it. Only the base of the tower was visible, of course. It rose in a tightly bound spiral of pink stone, carved into the likeness of a gigantic octopus tentacle with circular windows in the suckers. It met the roof of the city, and Suzy knew from her brief glimpse of it during their descent in the H.E.C. that it extended a long way above that, jutting up into the ocean.
A pair of red lacquered doors within the great stone mouth swung open with a crackle of magic, releasing a cloud of steam from inside the tower. It rolled over the group, carried on a breath of warm air that filled Suzy’s nostrils with the scent of roses. The welcome heat did little to steady her nerves though.
“Are you okay?” she asked Wilmot.
“I think so,” he said, rubbing at his badge again. “This is what we came here for, so remember chapter five of The Knowledge.”
“Always make a good first impression,” she said. He gave her a nervous smile, which snapped off abruptly when Kecker shoved him in the back with the butt of his trident.
“Quiet, both of you,” Kecker ordered. “You’ll only speak when addressed directly by His Greatness. Now, get moving.” With another shove of his trident, Kecker and the Watch Frogs marched Suzy and Wilmot into the waiting maw of the gateway.
Once over the threshold, the steam settled on them as thick as a cloud bank, and Suzy couldn’t see more than a couple of yards in any direction. The floor beneath her feet was pink marble shot through with veins of gold, however, and judging by the distant echoes of their footsteps, they were walking through a very large space indeed.
Water splashed somewhere up ahead.
The Watch Frogs clearly knew where they were going and didn’t slacken their pace, even when Wilmot caught his foot on something and stumbled. The Commander grabbed him by the collar before he could fall, and shoved him forward. Meanwhile, the object that Wilmot had tripped on skidded across the floor and came to a halt in front of Suzy, who came to a sudden and complete stop.
It was a skull.
A Hydroborean newt skull, judging by its size and shape, but she didn’t get time to examine it closely, as she received a push in the back.
“Keep moving,” Kecker croaked.
They left the skull behind, but it was only a matter of seconds before Suzy saw another one in their path. And then a rib cage, followed by a frog skull. There were bones everywhere, Suzy realized with horror—a graveyard’s worth, all picked clean and gleaming. She and Wilmot did their best to step over them until Kecker finally ordered them to a halt.
The slap and gurgle of water came again, much closer now.
“Your Greatness,” Kecker called. “We have brought you the outworlders responsible for the disturbance in Plankton Plaza.”
Suzy could just make out a vague shape in the mist ahead of them. She couldn’t be certain, but it looked like a shining white wall, stretching high up above them. The sounds of water came from somewhere near its top.
“How many?” said a gelatinous voice, so deep and heavy that the floor trembled with every syllable.
“Three, Your Greatness.”
The voice gave a rumbling growl, and a curtain of water crashed to the ground a few yards in front of the group, showering them with warm spray. “Show me.”
Suzy and Wilmot joined hands as the Watch Frogs pushed them forward. At the same time, the mist parted and Suzy saw the huge shape for what it was—not a wall, but an old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub, taller than a double-decker bus. The steam rose from it in great clouds, and something shifted inside it with a wet squittering noise. A pair of gigantic hands appeared over the rim, displacing another curtain of water. They were webbed and pale, with long, flat fingers. A silver signet ring glinted on one of the fingers, inset with a lapis stone in the shape of a snail shell. A huge semi-spherical head followed. The creature was identical to the other Watch Frogs but easily ten times their size.
Kecker dropped to one knee. “Kneel before Frogmaggog, the Master of Magic,” he ordered. Not daring to take their eyes off the titanic figure above them, Suzy and Wilmot did as instructed.
“Gosh, he’s a big fellow, isn’t he?” said the Chief, looking up at Frogmaggog with his hands on his hips. “Hello! Nice to discover you.”
Frogmaggog’s huge eyes swiveled independently of each other until they both came to rest on the three friends. He drew a fat, wormlike tongue across his lipless mouth. “What hideous specimens,” he said. “Hydroborea is closed to inferiors like you. Why have you violated our borders?”
Suzy bridled at the words. Her first impulse was to answer back, but she remembered her promise to Wilmot outside the gateway: good first impression. The future of her friends and of the whole Union rested on this meeting, and they were running out of time, so she held her tongue as Wilmot stepped forward and removed his cap.
“If you’ll excuse the intrusion, Your Greatness,” he said, “we don’t intend to stay in Hydroborea at all and are only here on business. In fact, we came to see you.”
“Naturally,” said Frogmaggog. “I suppose you’re going to beg me for some magic.” He gave a deep-throated laugh that shook the throne room and turned Suzy’s legs to jelly. The Watch Frogs laughed along, although their humor sounded forced and nervous.
Wilmot swallowed audibly. “Actually, no,” he said. “We’re here to deliver a package to you, from the Impossible Places.”
Frogmaggog’s laughter stopped abruptly. “Liars!” he said. “The Impossible Places fell into ruin when we stopped them leeching our magic from us. Everybody knows that.” He leaned forward out of the bath and pinned Wilmot to the spot with a furious glare. Suzy sprang to her friend’s side while the Watch Frogs retreated a few steps.
“Hydroborea endures alone,” said Frogmaggog. “Say it.”
“Hey, you can’t—” Suzy began, but shut her mouth when Wilmot elbowed her in the ribs.
“Say it!” Frogmaggog’s eyes blazed, but Wilmot stood with his back straight and his chest out, and Suzy followed his lead. She couldn’t let him down now.
“I’m very sorry, Your Greatness,” said Wilmot, with only the slightest tremor in his voice. “But as a Postmaster, and as a proud troll, I won’t say something that I know to be untrue.”
A shocked silence descended upon the throne room. Frogmaggog narrowed his eyes.
“I decide what’s true,” he said coldly. “This city is the last stronghold of magic in a hostile universe, and I alone have the power to command it.” The bulging expanse of his forehead creased into a frown. “So what have you brought me that I could possibly want?”
Very slowly and carefully, Wilmot removed The Book of Power from his satchel and held it up for Frogmaggog to see. “This was written by the founders of Hydroborea,” he said. The Master of Magic’s reaction was subtle, but Suzy saw it clearly—a brief shiver of excitement, which he quickly covered by sitting back in the bath.
“A book?” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “We don’t need books here. I tell everyone what they need to know.”
Before either Wilmot or Suzy could respond, the book spoke. “That explains why they know so very little.” Its voice echoed around the throne room, drawing scandalized gasps from the Watch Frogs. Suzy and Wilmot cringed.
“Be quiet!” Suzy whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “He’s the only one who can unbind you.”
“It’s got a point though, don’t you think?” said the Chief. Suzy gave him a look that might have killed him if he hadn’t already been dead.
But Frogmaggog seemed more intrigued than angered by t
his new curiosity. He extended a gigantic hand toward Wilmot, who, after a moment’s hesitation, placed the book in his palm.
“You’re either brave or foolish to speak to me like that, little book,” said Frogmaggog, raising it to eye level.
“I am neither,” the book replied. “But I am honest. Everything you have said so far about Hydroborea and the Impossible Places has been wrong.”
Frogmaggog’s scowl deepened. “And I suppose you know better, do you?”
“Much better,” the book replied. “I was created here a long time ago, and the power on which this city was founded was placed in me for safekeeping.”
“Lies!” said Frogmaggog. “Only I possess the power of Hydroborea.”
“No, you do not,” said the book. “You never have. Your ancient ancestors sought to destroy it, so it was sent with me to the Impossible Places, where I have guarded it ever since. Now I have brought it back, and if the spell that binds me is lifted, I can share it.”
The color rose in Frogmaggog’s face and he closed his fist around the book. “What is this insolence?” he hissed.
Wilmot’s ears drooped. “It’s, er … news to us, too,” he said. “But the book clearly belongs in Hydroborea, so if you wouldn’t mind signing this proof-of-delivery form…” He fumbled the blank gold sheet from his satchel. “Please? It’s rather important.”
Frogmaggog sneered, but Suzy could still see a trace of hunger in his eyes. Despite his anger, he wanted the book. “I’ll take it,” he said, “but only to protect my people from its lies.” He reached for the delivery form, and Suzy’s breath caught in her throat. This was it. One signature, and their friends and the Impossible Places would be safe.
“No,” said the book.
Everything seemed to stop. Suzy was sure her heart froze for a second, and even Frogmaggog paused. He opened his hand again. The book was a tiny black speck on his palm.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” he demanded.
“I do not wish to be delivered to you,” said the book. “You are not an adequate recipient.”
Wilmot went pale. “Oh dear.”
“Not adequate?” Frogmaggog’s voice was a whisper of fury. “How dare you!”
“I have reflected on everything that I have learned since my return,” the book went on quite calmly. “The city has fallen into disrepair, and the Gilded Tower no longer serves its true purpose. Worse, the stories that Hydroborea tells about itself are false. The city has forgotten its true self and is happy to believe the lies that you and your predecessors have invented for it. This is not acceptable.”
Suzy sensed their achievement slipping out of reach. “But you can teach him,” she called to the book. “You said yourself, you know better.”
“The Master of Magic doesn’t need teaching,” said Frogmaggog.
“Which is why you are not fit to use my power,” said the book. “And I will not allow you to unbind me.”
“But Frogmaggog’s the only one in Hydroborea with any magic,” said Wilmot, who was looking increasingly flustered. “If he can’t open you, who can?”
The book thought for a moment. “Ina,” it decided. “Deliver me to Ina.”
Suzy and Wilmot stared at one another in disbelief.
“Why didn’t you tell us that when we were with her?” said Suzy.
“Because I wasn’t sure then,” the book replied. “It’s a very big decision. It took a lot of thought.”
Frogmaggog raised a finger for silence. “I don’t know who this Ina person is,” he said, “but she can’t have you. You’re mine.”
Suzy turned to Wilmot. “What do we do now?” she whispered. “Is a delivery supposed to choose its own recipient like this?”
The question was clearly taxing Wilmot as well. “It’s unorthodox,” he whispered back. “But there’s no rule against it.”
“Then that means…,” Suzy began.
Wilmot nodded gravely. “Leave it to me.” He cleared his throat, set his jaw, and called up to Frogmaggog. “I’m sorry, Your Greatness, but in light of this new development, I’m going to have to ask you to return the book.” He didn’t flinch as the Master of Magic leaned over the edge of the bath and regarded him closely. “We’re very sorry for the inconvenience.”
Frogmaggog nodded in understanding. Then he opened his mouth, and his tongue lashed out like a whip. It struck Wilmot in the chest, yanked him off his feet, and carried him straight into Frogmaggog’s open maw, which snapped shut again. It was all over in a second.
“Wilmot!” Suzy screamed. “What have you done? Spit him back out!”
Frogmaggog’s mouth curled into a cruel grin. He swallowed noisily and let out a rumbling belch. “Your friend tasted better than he looked.” He let out another belch, and something shot from his mouth, drifting down to land at Suzy’s feet. It was the gold delivery form, badly creased and slick with slime.
Too horrified to speak, Suzy staggered back until she tripped over a heap of discarded bones and fell on her haunches.
“This is appalling behavior!” said the Chief, who still bobbed at her side. “You, sir, should be ashamed of yourself!”
Frogmaggog ignored them. He reached down into the bath, removed the plug, and tossed it over the rim, where it swung back and forth on a length of thick silver chain. The throne room echoed with a deep-throated gurgle as the water began to drain away. “I’m going to dispose of this seditious book,” he announced as he heaved his immense bulk out of the bath and stepped over Suzy, showering her with warm water. “Take the girl to the kitchens and tell my chef to prepare her for dinner. I don’t want to be disturbed before then.”
“Yes, Your Greatness,” said Kecker. He bowed as Frogmaggog lumbered away into the thinning steam.
Suzy looked around in a daze. The enormity of what had just happened was too much for her, and she could feel her mind growing numb with shock. She had no idea what to do.
“Quick, Suzy,” the Chief whispered. “While they’re not looking.”
It was only then that she realized Kecker and his men were still bowing low. Just for a second, nobody was watching her. She pushed herself to her feet and ran, stooping to snatch up the fallen delivery form as she passed it. She didn’t know why she did it—she had no plan and no hope of escape, but when her feet carried her toward the bath and she saw the huge plug swinging toward her on the end of its chain, she leaped and grabbed hold of it.
“Get her!” shouted Commander Kecker. He sprang and almost caught her, but the chain’s pendulum swing carried her just out of his reach. As Kecker landed on the floor and prepared to pounce again, Suzy stuffed the delivery form into her satchel and began climbing the chain toward the rim of the bath.
“What’s happening back there, Commander?”
Suzy heard Frogmaggog’s heavy footsteps returning. She scrambled upward and was halfway to the top when she felt the chain shake. She looked down and saw Kecker climbing after her, quickly followed by two more Watch Frogs.
“Keep climbing and don’t look down,” said the Chief, hovering at her ear.
Suzy put every scrap of effort into the climb. She reached the rim a few seconds ahead of Kecker and pulled herself over the top, getting unsteadily to her feet. Behind her was the fifty-foot drop to the throne-room floor. Before her lay the dwindling pool of bathwater, disappearing in a noisy whirlpool down the drain. And beyond that, staring at her in disgust from the other side of the bath, towered Frogmaggog. He still had the book clenched in his fist.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he said.
Suzy wanted to say something, anything, back, but her anger was so big now that she couldn’t get it out of her mouth. It lodged in her throat, leaving her in openmouthed silence.
Frogmaggog reached for her. At the same instant, Kecker pulled himself over the rim of the bath behind her and made a grab for her legs.
Suzy closed her eyes and jumped forward, slipping through Frogmaggog’s fingers and plunging into the steaming bat
hwater. It closed over her head, and before she could surface again, the pull of the whirlpool caught her. She didn’t fight it but let it drag her toward the drain.
“Oh, I see,” said the Chief. “Very cunning!”
“Stop her!” Frogmaggog’s voice was indistinct through the rush of the escaping water. Suzy looked up and saw the dark shape of his hand reaching down, but he was too late—the whirlpool dragged Suzy into its heart, spinning her round on the spot before, all at once, she was sucked down the drain and everything went black.
18
THE HUNT BEGINS
Frogmaggog saw Suzy vanish down the drain an instant before his fingers closed on the spot where she had been. The last of the water followed her down with a burbling belch, as if adding one final insult to his defeat.
“Imbeciles!” He thumped the rim of the bathtub in frustration, almost causing Kecker to topple over the side. “Commander! You’ve let me down badly. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t eat you and your men on the spot.”
Kecker turned a sickly shade of yellow and fell to his knees. “Forgive us, Your Greatness! I will personally follow her down the drain and get her back. You won’t go hungry on my watch!”
“Too little, too late, Commander. If the girl doesn’t drown, she could crawl out of the sewers almost anywhere.”
“Then we’ll search the city,” said Kecker. “Street by street if we have to.”
“And by the time you’ve found her, how many people will she have infected with her stories of the outside world?” said Frogmaggog. “Her false stories.” His free hand strayed to the silver conch hanging from his belt, and he toyed nervously with it. “What will the people say when they realize she escaped me? A powerless outworlder defying the Master of Magic. That news will spread like a disease. The people will never fear me again!”
“What should we do, Your Greatness?” said Kecker. “Just give us an order.”
Frogmaggog stared off into the swirling mist while he considered the question. “I want you to find this ‘Ina,’” he said. “You say you caught the outworlders in Plankton Plaza?”