Archibald Lox and the Forgotten Crypt

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Archibald Lox and the Forgotten Crypt Page 12

by Darren Shan


  I’m about to say that Pol can’t speak, but he barks before I can, “Because you didn’t say please.”

  Moon Face’s features darken. “Ar. Lo,” he says thickly, studying the list slowly until he comes to the name. His eyes narrow and he looks at Pol again. “Surname?”

  Pol doesn’t answer, only glares. I’ve no idea either, so I keep quiet too.

  “Surname?” Moon Face repeats, louder this time.

  “You know what you have to say if you want an answer,” Pol says, toughing it out.

  Moon Face’s nostrils flare. “I’m going to ask one of your superiors to verify your identity,” he says.

  “See if I care,” Pol says, but his shoulders slump and he must think he’s about to be turned away.

  “That’s fine,” I say sweetly to Moon Face, taking a step away. “Wait here and I’ll fetch Baba Jen.”

  “Baba Jen?” Moon Face bleats, and it’s clear their paths have crossed before.

  “She’s our boss,” I tell him, patting my rucksack. “I saw her a few minutes ago, chatting with a coach, but I’m sure she won’t mind if I pull her aside to deal with something as important as this.”

  “Hold on,” Moon Face says nervously as I take another step away. He stares at his list, then at Pol, and gulps. “I suppose she’s quite busy...”

  “I’m sure she’d be happy to settle your mind,” I purr. “Arlo’s dressed in the team uniform, his name’s on your list, and I’ve confirmed his identity, but if you want to be extra cautious...”

  Moon Face scowls. “Arlo,” he says firmly, and it’s clear that he considers the name ticked.

  “Thanks,” I say, stepping past him onto the boat.

  “For nothing,” Pol grunts and steps up next to me. He digs an elbow into my ribs. “That doesn’t make us even, by the way. You still owe me.”

  “I’d never have thought otherwise,” I murmur, and it’s hard to hide my smile.

  23

  When everyone’s boarded, the steers guide the boats out into the centre of the river, one behind the other, a mixture of players and the backroom team on each. We glide out of the city, people cheering us on our way, the bands ramping up the volume, until the lead steer opens a borehole and we slip out of the zone.

  Most steers are confined to a single realm – sometimes even to a specific stretch of river – but these six have the ability to travel between Sapphire and Topaz. Our schedule has been organised to give us three days in Sapphire before we cross, so that we can visit lots of different zones, affording as many Sapphirites as possible the chance to wave off their heroes.

  It’s fun, drifting past towns and villages, waving to people lining the banks. They put on festivities in some places, similar to what we had in Cornan, only on a smaller scale. In others there’s no fanfare, just cheering and clapping.

  We don’t disembark at any point. It’s an old Tourney tradition. The teams always spend a few days on the boats, to help them bond. Back in Cornan, I barely spoke with any of the players, since they were training the whole time, but now they can relax and mingle, so I get to meet lots of them, as well as people in the other backroom squads.

  The boats often pull abreast between towns and villages, so we have a chance to cross and mix with those on the other craft. There’s a real party atmosphere. Even Baba Jen is a happy bunny, cracking (very rude) jokes and singing (very rude) songs.

  I keep worrying that someone will fall overboard but the steers keep a close watch on their passengers, and one pops up whenever somebody teeters on the edge of a boat, to gently nudge them back to safety.

  Each steer is dressed in faded robes of one colour, though the colour varies from steer to steer. All are barefoot, and all have silver eyes. They’re polite but don’t say much. I guess they don’t want to be distracted while on watch.

  I’ve been keeping a watch too, on a specific passenger. During our first afternoon on the river, I heard a few people mention that items had gone missing. They weren’t bothered, just confused. They thought the objects had fallen out of their rucksacks and been knocked overboard.

  I thought differently, and suspected Pol. The large backpack made sense now — he’d brought it because he was planning to pick up goodies along the way.

  There was no point challenging Pol – rats steal, that’s their nature – so I settled for observing him, keeping a note of everything he was swiping. Then, a few times the next day, when he was on the prowl, I snuck over to his rucksack, removed the goods, and either returned them to their owners (slyly slipping them into pockets or bags) or placed them where they’d be found.

  Pol has surely clocked what I’m up to, but he’s said nothing. I think he’s enjoying the game. The only trouble is, he’s more cunning than me, so there’s a good chance he’ll walk away with a lot of stuff no matter what I do.

  I’m searching for Pol – he’s given me the slip, which isn’t easy on the boats – when someone puts their hands over my eyes and growls, “You have five questions to guess who I am.”

  I already know who it is, despite her attempt to disguise her voice, but I’m happy to play along. “Are you a woman?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she grunts.

  “A gropster?”

  “No.”

  “A royal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a kind heart?”

  She snickers. “Some might say so.”

  “Are you pretty?”

  She laughs out loud. “As pretty as a flower,” she coos.

  “Then there’s only one person you could be,” I murmur. “Queen Pitina.”

  In response, I earn a nasty dig in the ribs.

  “Ow!” I gasp. “That hurt.”

  “Good,” Ghita says, lowering her hands. The princess isn’t travelling to Topaz, but she’s come with us for the trip through Sapphire. We sit close to the edge of the boat and she asks who I was looking for.

  “Just one of the other passengers,” I say evasively. I haven’t told anyone about Pol. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind his being here (apart from Pitina, who’d probably want to lock him up), but he’s proud that nobody has noticed him.

  “Excited about the Tourney?” Ghita asks.

  “Who isn’t?” I reply. “But I feel bad that I’ll be going to the matches, knowing almost nothing about grop, while thousands of real fans can’t get tickets.”

  “But not so bad that you’ll give up your place?” Ghita smirks.

  “No,” I laugh.

  “I went to visit your friend with the statues before we left,” Ghita says. “He’s such a nice boy. A bit strange, but that’s to be expected, given his age and the fact that he’s lived alone for so long.”

  “You’ll visit him again while we’re away?” I ask.

  “Sure,” she says. “I’ll pop in to see him as often as I can.”

  “Maybe the Departed will speak while you’re there,” I chuckle.

  “They already did,” she says seriously, and my smile falters.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They said...” She leans in close to whisper in my ear. “‘Tell Archie he stinks!’”

  I punch her arm and she yelps.

  “Very clever,” I scowl.

  “I had you going, didn’t I?” she laughs.

  “You should have been a thesp,” I pout.

  “No, I wouldn’t have been any good at fooling strangers,” she says. “I can only fool people I like.” Her smile fades and she lays a hand on my knee. “I do like you, Archie. I think we could be good friends in the years going forward.”

  “I hope so,” I say, my mouth drying up, wondering if I should put a hand on top of hers.

  “But if you get yourself killed in Topaz...” she mutters.

  “I don’t intend to,” I huff, then frown. “Do you think that’s likely?”

  “This is a grim affair,” she says softly. “We made light of it in Moscow, but we’
re really treading on thin ice here. Cindy doesn’t think it will work. She pretends she does, out of loyalty to Malina, but before she crossed, she confessed to me that she thinks it’s madness.”

  Cindy returned to Topaz ahead of the rest of us.

  “How about you?” I ask.

  Ghita shrugs uneasily. “The stakes are so high. The futures of both realms are at stake — if it goes wrong and we lose Hugo, I’ll be the only Merged royal in Sapphire, and I won’t be able to prevent Pitina and Farkas from realigning the realm. I wish Hugo had sent someone else to do it.”

  “Have you discussed this with Hugo?” I ask.

  “Of course,” she says, “in Moscow and since we returned, but he’s determined to press ahead with the plan and be directly involved.”

  “You could give him away,” I whisper. “Draw him near the edge of the boat and bump into him, so it looks like he’s going to be knocked over. The steer will grab him before that happens, but you can shriek his real name, as if you panicked. Then people would know it was him and he’d have to back out.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Ghita says. “He’d have the perfect excuse for being here in disguise — he’d simply say he was desperate to take part in the Tourney.” She mulls it over, then sighs. “No, I can’t betray him. It wouldn’t be right.”

  We’re passing through a zone where huge mushrooms grow along the banks, some as big as a house. She stares at the oversized mushrooms solemnly, as if they were omens of doom, then lies back and stretches out. I lie beside her and we look up at a yellow sky, speckled with fluffy blue clouds.

  “I’m sure you’ll all come back safely,” Ghita says.

  “Of course we will,” I say, trying to sound as if I mean it.

  “And the gropsters will win the Tourney,” she says.

  “And the royals will let us keep Hiroto as a prize,” I murmur.

  We giggle, then Ghita sits up. “I’ve got to go,” she says. “I was looking for my bracelet when I spotted you.”

  “What sort of a bracelet?” I ask, eyes narrowing.

  “A copper one,” Ghita says. “Nothing special, but I’ve had it a long time. I must have misplaced it.”

  I groan, then get to my feet. “Don’t worry,” I grunt. “I’ll find it.”

  “Don’t make any promises you can’t keep,” she says. “It might have been knocked overboard.”

  “I doubt it,” I sniff, then set off in search of an elusive, ratty thief.

  And so the game continues.

  SEVEN — THE LAIR

  24

  It’s a warm, bright day when we depart Sapphire. The procession has been arranged to end in a city called Fitzville, where we draw our largest crowd since Cornan. We drop off Ghita and a few others, then head for a large, orange borehole in the centre of the river. I’m on the fourth vessel, which means I get to enjoy more of the party atmosphere as the first three boats sail into the orange window and disappear.

  “Here we go,” Inez says, stepping up beside me.

  “I hope we make it back this way again,” I murmur.

  She grunts.

  “You still haven’t told me much about the plan,” I note.

  “There’s plenty of time for that,” she says.

  “Don’t you trust me?” I ask.

  “Of course I do,” she replies, “but Cindy asked us not to discuss the finer details with you until closer the time of action.”

  “Cindy doesn’t like me, does she?” I say sourly.

  Inez sighs. “She likes you fine, but she doesn’t fully trust you.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have brought me,” I say without any bitterness. “If you’re having second thoughts, I could head back to London. I’m still feeling lousy for bailing on George and Rachel, without telling them I’d be gone for so long.”

  “What about Orlan and Argate?” Inez asks.

  I shrug. “I’d take my chances with them. I mean, I have to go home eventually, right? I can’t stay with you forever.”

  “I suppose not,” Inez sighs, “but I don’t feel like this is the time for you to bail. You’re part of our plans now, and I’m glad to have you on the team.”

  “Really?” I blink.

  She nods. “I wouldn’t have made it to the palace without you last year, and I’ve a feeling I might need you again. I don’t care what Cindy thinks. As the rats would say, you’re my tail, and I don’t want to head into this without you.”

  I’m not sure how to respond to such a simple statement of faith in me. I feel quite overwhelmed. Fortunately, while I’m searching for the words to express how much her belief in me means to me, we pass through the borehole, and our conversation is forgotten as our attention focuses on the dramatically different landscape.

  The first thing I notice is that it’s gloomier, and the light has taken on a brittle quality. There are thick, grey clouds in the sky, and the rays that penetrate them seem to emerge caked in mist, casting a bluish tinge over the world. And that world is a world of ice, cold white plains spilling off into the distance, dotted with the occasional snow-whipped peak.

  The river of blood is flanked by a pair of natural rivers, with just a tiny sliver of land on either side separating the ruby-red ribbon from them. Water isn’t common in the Merge, so you don’t get many lakes, seas or rivers. These are easily the largest rivers I’ve seen, wide and gushing, dotted with chunks of ice the size of cars and trucks, being swept along in a dancing white rush.

  The chunks must have broken off from the icy banks on the far sides of the rivers, whose layers look as if they’ve built up over the course of many centuries. (Although in the Merge, where devisers manipulate the land, they could be the work of mere months.)

  There are some houses set back from the bank to my right, built out of large black bricks, with blue slate roofs. There are no windows – at least not on the ends facing our way – but I guess there are slots or holes that aren’t visible from here, because as the last boat crosses, doors open in a number of the houses and people approach the edge of the icy water.

  As I watch, the locals cast off their clothes and strip down to swimming trunks, then dive into the water and swim towards us.

  “They’ll freeze,” I gasp.

  “Topazers don’t freeze,” Inez snorts. “They’re built for the cold.”

  I worry for the swimmers, despite Inez’s reassurances, but they’re obviously at home in the chilly water, cutting through the angry white waves and dodging or slithering over the chunks of ice like seals.

  They’re far faster than any Born swimmers, and sometimes, when one clambers out of the water to scurry across an icy chunk, they’ll hurl themselves several metres into the air before diving deep beneath the surface, to emerge seconds later to roars of approval from the other swimmers.

  The Topazers break as they draw near to the river of blood, a few heading in the direction of each boat. As they’re doing that, the steers guide their rafts in close to the sliver of land, holding just shy of the ice. I reach out and break off an icicle, then press it to my tongue, testing if it’s the same as ice back home.

  “Did you think it was flavoured?” Inez asks.

  “In the Merge, anything’s possible,” I respond.

  “At last you’re learning,” she laughs, and breaks off an icicle of her own to suck. “It’s delightful, isn’t it?” she says, running the tip of the icicle across her lips. “The devisers worked very hard on the water in Topaz. Their aim was to create a liquid as pure as any you’d find in the Born, but I think they came up with something even better.” She sucks on the icicle, then discards it. “Don’t drink too much,” she warns me, “or you’ll have to pee in the river.”

  I get rid of the remains of my icicle and return my attention to the Topazers, who are now standing on the land beside the river of blood. They leap aboard the boats, one at a time, laughing and howling as they jump.

  A woman lands next to Inez and me and I have a chance to study her up close.
Her skin’s covered in flesh-coloured scales, and there’s a film over her eyes, ears and nostrils that looks like Clingfilm. And on her throat... are those gills?

  The woman catches me gawping. “Not seen a Topazer before?” she asks.

  “No,” I say.

  “We’re some sight, right?” she chortles, and breathes in and out, demonstrating that the layers of flesh on her throat really are gills.

  “We’re not all like this,” a man says, stepping up next to the woman. “Gills aren’t common, and although many have scales, few are as thick as ours.”

  “I’ll never understand why the others don’t adopt thicker scales,” the woman frowns. “They’re so beautiful and practical.”

  The man and woman head for the end of the boat, where the other Topazers are introducing themselves to the coaches. Once they’ve done that, they start taking the names of our players, to broadcast to the crowds.

  When they’ve finished collecting names, they dive back into the icy river and swim downstream. The steers allow their boats to glide out into the middle of the river of blood and we set off that way too, but the swimmers are moving faster than us and soon disappear from sight.

  “Where’s the city?” I ask as we drift along.

  “That way,” Inez says, pointing off into the distance. “Niffelheim’s a massive zone, and the city’s surrounded by vast, icy wastelands. It will take us most of a day to get there.”

  “Why didn’t we cross closer to it?” I ask.

  “All the teams start off in the outer reaches of the zone,” Inez says. “It’s the way it’s always been done.”

  As we float on down the river, Inez moves from boat to boat, picking up the four players who’ll hide within her from this point on. Hugo, as Logu, is one of them, and he’s the real reason she’s doing this, so that he can hide from unravellers, though the rest of the team believe it’s a tactic dreamed up by the coaches.

  I accompany Inez, curious to see how it works. Although I drew Ghita out of her last year, I’ve never seen a camel accept a cargo. Others are intrigued too, and quite a crowd gathers on the boat where she winds up.

 

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