Delivery to the Lost City

by P. G. Bell

  “I’m going to squeeze you until you pop,” the Master of Magic declared.

  The H.E.C. shot in through the gates with barely a foot to spare on either side. Frogmaggog just had time to look up before it struck him full speed in the chest and knocked him off his feet. He dropped Neoma, performed a neat backward somersault, and came crashing down in the bathtub while the H.E.C., its forward momentum suddenly arrested, dropped sputtering to the floor.

  “Now for goodness’ sake, get those doors shut!” yelled Stonker. “Quickly!”

  The enormous doors swung closed a split second before the water struck them with a noise like a train crash. They groaned, the throne room trembled one last time, and then an eerie quiet descended. The fighting stopped.

  Suzy’s parents were already running to the dented wreck of the H.E.C.

  “Are they all right?” said Suzy’s mom, trying to see in through the windows. “Is anyone hurt?”

  The sunroof popped open and Ursel squeezed out, staggering drunkenly before plopping down on her haunches.

  “Frowlf,” she said.

  “Travel sick?” said Stonker, reaching her side. “I’m not surprised after that.”

  Suzy, Wilmot, and Ina all came tumbling out, shaken and dizzy.

  “That was quite an entrance,” said Suzy’s dad, helping her to her feet.

  “I told you I’d be back,” she said, and accepted the ferocious hug that he and her mom pulled her into.

  Gertrude and Dorothy ran to embrace Wilmot, and a battered but jubilant Amlod shoved his way out of the crowd and threw his arms around Ina.

  “You made it!” he said.

  “Of course,” she said. “As if you ever doubted me.”

  Maxwell emerged from the wreckage, buzzing contentedly. He performed a lazy loop-de-loop and landed on Frederick’s shoulder wearing a big, dopey grin. “Hey, Professor,” he said, nuzzling Frederick’s ear. “That was good fun.”

  “You did a brilliant job, Maxwell,” said Frederick, rubbing the demon between his horns. “You saved them.”

  Maxwell gave a sleepy giggle. “Yeah, but you’re my favorite,” he said, and promptly dropped off Frederick’s shoulder into his breast pocket, where he began snoring.

  Suzy looked around at the hundreds of people, trolls, and statues filling the throne room. “It worked,” she said. “Everyone came. But where’s Frogmaggog?”

  All eyes turned to the bathtub. The steam rising from it was now a dark and bilious green.

  “This is an outrage!” came a tiny voice from inside it. “Surrender immediately, or I’ll have you all executed.”

  A small figure appeared on the rim. It was Frogmaggog—bruised, winded, and shrunken to his natural size. Scandalized whispers ran through the crowd of onlookers. Frogmaggog shook his fist at them.

  “Why have you stopped fighting, you disgusting cowards?” he shouted at the Watch Frogs. “Bring me Commander Kecker. I’ll have his head for this.”

  A few Watch Frogs looked around nervously, but none of them moved.

  Amlod cupped his hands around his mouth and booed. With a huge grin, Ina joined in. Then Suzy and Wilmot. Then some of the civilians. Then a few Watch Frogs. One by one, the chorus of disapproval spread until almost everyone in the throne room was booing at Frogmaggog, who ranted and stamped his feet in vain.

  “Stop it! How dare you? I’m the Master of Magic!”

  Lady Crepuscula sidled up to Suzy and the others with a conspiratorial smile. “Do you know what I’ve always wanted on my mantelpiece?” she asked.

  They looked at her blankly until Frederick said, “A frog in a snow globe?”

  “Precisely,” she said, and raised her cane. A bolt of magic leaped from its tip and struck Frogmaggog, enveloping him in a large glass bubble. He beat his fists against the inside but only succeeded in rolling himself off the lip of the bath. Everyone in the throne room let out a collective gasp as he plunged toward the ground. But the bubble was already shrinking, and when Lady Crepuscula caught it neatly in one hand it was no bigger than a tennis ball. Frogmaggog, still trapped inside it, was barely two inches tall. Suzy and the others clustered around to look.

  “Please!” said Frogmaggog in a high-pitched squeak. “Let me out. I’ll do anything!”

  Lady Crepuscula held the ball up for everyone to see. “I think a little while at this size will do you good,” she said. “You need to learn to look up to others. Then I’ll hand you over to your own people and they can decide what to do with you.”

  Frogmaggog went white. “No! You can’t! You don’t know what they’ll do to me. Please!” His protestations ended abruptly as Lady Crepuscula’s shadow peeled itself off the floor, reached up, and seized him in both hands. The sphere fell away into the shadow, as if into a deep pit, and was gone.

  “That takes care of one problem,” said Lady Crepuscula. “Now, where’s my good-for-nothing brother?”

  There was a groan from the H.E.C., and Aybek crawled out of the sunroof.

  “I was hoping you’d forgotten about me,” he said. “And before you say another word, yes, I surrender.” He got to his feet and raised his hands.

  Tenebrae landed in front of him with a soft thud but was immediately surrounded by a squad of Lunar Guard. “It’s not her you should be worried about, old man,” he snarled. “You left me for Frogmaggog.”

  “Oh dear, Aybek,” said Lady Crepuscula, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “You have been making yourself popular, haven’t you?”

  “Never mind that right now,” said Suzy. “Where’s the book?”

  “I am here,” said the book from somewhere inside Aybek’s robes. “You have one minute remaining.” Aybek withdrew it and handed it to Suzy.

  “I suppose you want this as well,” he said, offering the crumpled delivery form to Wilmot, who snatched it from him, smoothed it out a little, and passed it to Ina.

  “Could you sign it here, please?” he said, his hands shaking a little with excitement as he pointed at the bottom of the sheet.

  “And as quickly as you can!” added Frederick.

  Ina pulled out her pen. “Are you sure about this?” she said. “I still don’t think I’m qualified.

  “Your handwriting is quite messy,” said the book. “But you alone sought the truth when others accepted lies. You asked questions when others were offered easy answers. You understood the limits of your knowledge and sought to overcome them. For these reasons, I have chosen you.”

  “Wow,” said Amlod. “And all this time I thought she was just nosy.”

  “She is,” said the book. “And that is a very good thing.”

  Aybek tutted and turned away.

  Ina laid the form and the book beside one another on the floor. Suzy and Wilmot clasped hands as she pressed the nib to the paper. Then, with a quick scratch and a flick, she signed her name.

  “Done,” she said.

  Wilmot took the form as though it were made of glass and held it up to the light. A curl of black ink emerged from between the book’s pages and drifted to the form, blotting its surface. The blots became letters and lines, and within a few seconds the form was complete again. Ina’s signature glowed briefly, and the stamp attached to the book evaporated in a little puff of gold smoke.

  “It’s over,” said Wilmot, a huge smile slowly spreading across his face. “We did it.”

  “Oh, jolly well done, you two!” said Stonker.

  “Three cheers for the Postmaster and his deputy!” said Mr. Trellis. The Old Guard whooped and applauded and flung their hats in the air.

  Suzy threw her arms around Wilmot. “Congratulations,” she said. “Whatever else happens now, you’ll always be a Gold Stamp Postmaster.”

  “And you’ll always be a Gold Stamp postie!” he replied, hugging her back.

  “The postal spell is broken,” said the book. “Command me, and I will open.”

  “Yes, please,” said Ina.

  The book almost purred with satisfaction. “You might w
ant to stand back.” It sprang open, its pages turning as if riffled by unseen hands. Suzy caught flashes of dense text, colorful illustrations, and richly illuminated letters. They blurred together, the pages turning faster and faster. And not just turning but unfolding, opening out of the book like origami blossoms.

  Then it launched into the air in a whirl of fluttering pages. It continued to unfold as it wheeled through the heights of the throne room, until it wasn’t a book anymore but a flock of pages, thousands upon thousands of them, all interconnected and moving as one. Their passage through the air was like the sound of a thousand wings, and Suzy saw a shape forming from their chaos.

  Some of the Hydroboreans screamed as the form emerged. It was an enormous feathered serpent, with scales of overlapping parchment and eyes as black as ink in its arrow-shaped head. A long black tongue flickered out of its mouth, tasting the air. Then it lowered its head toward Ina in a reverent bow.

  “I am the Book Wyrm,” it said. “The living embodiment of Hydroborea’s knowledge and culture. All its stories, all its histories and learning, are in me. And they are yours to do with as you wish.”

  Ina approached the Book Wyrm slowly. She raised a hand and it rubbed its papery snout against her palm. “Are you a … a library?” she asked.

  “I am,” it replied.

  “Wow!” Frederick bounded to Ina’s side. “This is incredible. I just got a serious case of library envy.”

  He was still admiring the Book Wyrm in wide-eyed wonder when Neoma limped up, supported by a couple of Lunar Guards. “Neat trick,” she said. “But can you help us do anything about that?”

  Suzy followed Neoma’s pointing finger and saw, to her horror, that the entrance doors were bowing inward. Tiny spurts of water forced their way in around the frame, and a web of hairline cracks was working its way out across the walls. The crowd panicked and there was a small stampede toward the rear of the throne room, only to find that water was already trickling down the spiral staircase.

  “We have to get everyone into the tunnels,” said Frederick.

  “There are too many of us,” said Neoma. “We’d never get everyone out in time.”

  Suzy turned to Ina. “You’re our only hope now,” she said urgently. “We need the power of the founders.”

  Ina’s eyes were wide with fear, but she turned them on the Book Wyrm. “Can you help us?”

  The Book Wyrm cocked its head to one side. “Yes, I think I have what you need. Try this.” Its scales rustled, and some of them fell away from its body like autumn leaves. But instead of scattering, they fell together into a single blank volume. The Wyrm lowered its head and touched the pages with its tongue, staining them black. The stain began to change, forming rows of words. Finally, a leather cover grew across the pages, and in a few seconds, a finished book lay on the floor at Ina’s feet.

  “Hydroborea: An Operation Manual for Beginners by Hill and Walker,” Suzy read over Ina’s shoulder.

  “Why does a city need an operation manual?” said Wilmot.

  “Because Hydroborea is not just a city,” said the Book Wyrm. “It is a machine for gathering and sharing magic. And it has not been used properly for a long time.”

  “Machine, eh?” said Fletch, ambling over. “Give us a look.” He leafed quickly through the pages. “Cor,” he said. “If I’m readin’ this right, we’re standin’ in a giant transmitter. The city sucks magic up through the spiral and beams it out from the top of the tower.”

  “So that’s why the Sanctum is so full of magical energy,” said Wilmot.

  “The tower is no longer broadcasting, so the magic has nowhere to go,” said the Book Wyrm. “But it can be reactivated.”

  “How?” said Ina.

  The throne room doors groaned, and water began to fountain up through new cracks in the floor. They had only seconds left.

  “Quickly!” said Suzy.

  “Try page thirty-seven,” said the Book Wyrm.

  Fletch flipped to the appropriate page, read the entry, frowned, and read it again. “Is that it?” he said. “Looks a bit simple.”

  “Whatever it is, just do it!” said Frederick, jumping to one side as a trickle of water made its way through the roof and down the back of his neck.

  “All right, keep your hair on.” Fletch pulled the stubby metal rod of his troll wand from his tool belt and raised it in the air. “Hydroborea, I command you,” he said. “Up!”

  Nothing happened.

  “That can’t be right,” said Neoma. “You can’t move a city with a single word.”

  “I’m only doin’ what it says in the instructions,” said Fletch.

  The palace trembled underfoot, and Suzy ran to her parents. They hugged each other tightly as the shaking grew worse.

  But the tower wasn’t disintegrating, she realized. It was rising.

  “I think it’s working!” said Ina.

  Suzy felt the same pressure in the pit of her stomach that she sometimes got when riding in an elevator. Faster and faster, Hydroborea rose from the icy depths. The doors stopped bowing, and the spurts of water forcing their way in through the cracks in the walls lessened to dribbles, then stopped altogether. With a sigh and a rumble, the city came to a halt.

  “Are we here?” asked Wilmot. “Did we make it?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” said Suzy. “Open the doors.”

  * * *

  The day was as bright and sharp as a knife edge. Hydroborea stood like a mountain on the ocean’s surface, the sun gleaming off its pitted gold shell for the first time in countless generations. The retreating flood waters poured out of its broken sides and the waves created by its surfacing rolled away toward the horizon. High above it all, the summit of the tower flared like a torch, releasing a corona of magical energy into the atmosphere.

  Slowly, tentatively, Suzy and the crew led the shell-shocked Hydroboreans out of the throne room into the remnants of the boulevard. Not a single building remained, but through the huge rents in the city’s shell, they could see the world outside. The dark swell of the ocean’s surface was studded with diamond-white ice floes, while the vibrant blue sky seemed to stretch forever. The air was bitterly cold and tasted fresh and sweet in Suzy’s mouth.

  Some of the Hydroboreans appeared captivated by these new sensations, while others turned away and wept. Most of them just stood there looking dazed, as if it was all too much to take in.

  “There’s so much of it,” said Amlod. Ina slipped her hand into his, speechless.

  Suzy spotted the newspaper seller and gave him her best attempt at an encouraging smile. He did not smile back.

  “What do we do now?” he said disconsolately. “We’ve lost everything. Even Frogmaggog failed us.” He nudged a fallen brick around with his foot. “What are we supposed to do?”

  With a painful start, Suzy realized she didn’t have any answers for him.

  The awkward silence was broken by a long foghorn blast from outside the city. Suzy looked down and was puzzled to see a large cruise ship floating a short distance from the base of the city. She could just make out the name PRIDE OF OSLO on the prow, and its decks were crowded with elderly tourists, all of whom were pointing and taking pictures.

  “Oh, yes,” said Suzy’s dad. “In all the excitement we forgot to tell you: We’re on Earth.”

  Suzy turned to him in astonishment. “We’re what?”

  “Somewhere northeast of Iceland, I think.”

  She studied his face to see if this was some sort of joke, but her mom nodded in confirmation. “I don’t believe it,” said Suzy.

  Her mind was filling with so many new ideas that she couldn’t keep them in order, and she turned excitedly to her parents. “Don’t you see what this means?” she said. “Earth isn’t ordinary, it’s magical! Or a little bit magical, anyway. But that still counts!”

  “This world was steeped in magic once,” said the Book Wyrm, sticking its long nose outside the shell to taste the air. “Hydroborea drain
ed it all to maintain itself during its exile. Now the last vestiges are being returned.”

  Suzy looked back through the gateway and saw the ribbons of energy zipping through the throne room’s walls. Earth magic, she told herself.

  “If we’re making Earth magical again, what does this mean for us?” said Suzy’s mom. “What happens to normal life?”

  “It’ll probably be a bit less normal from now on,” said Frederick.

  Suzy’s mom pursed her lips and mulled this over for a moment. “I can live with that,” she said, and put her arm around Suzy.

  A man’s voice, amplified through a PA system, reached them from the cruise ship.

  “Attention, Unidentified Floating Object,” it said in a Scandinavian accent. “We come in peace. Do you require assistance? And, um … is that a dragon you have with you?”

  A lot of confused chatter broke out among the crowd.

  “Well?” said Lady Crepuscula. “Would anyone care to make a decision?”

  “I would,” said Suzy. She turned to the newspaper seller. “You asked me what you should do now,” she said. “How about a cruise?”

  29

  ONE LAST SCHEME

  Several hours later, the last of the Hydroborean civilians had been ferried to the fleet of rescue ships that now surrounded the city. Three more cruise liners, a scientific research vessel, and several dozen fishing boats had arrived, and after some rather complicated explanations, the baffled captains had agreed to take the city’s inhabitants to the nearest port.

  Only Ina and Amlod remained behind. They stood with Suzy, her parents, the Chief, and the crew, watching Crepuscula’s statues pick up the Zephyr and set it back on the train tracks inside the tunnel mouth. Aybek, Tenebrae, Kecker, and the other Watch Frogs sat in a miserable-looking huddle at the foot of the giant bathtub, watched over by the Lunar Guard. Lady Crepuscula had removed Tenebrae’s collar but had bound his wings with a length of magical thread to stop any escape attempts.