by Cliff McNish
‘Listen Rachel,’ Morpeth said, ‘I know you are transforming into . . . something, but that does not necessarily mean you must become like Dragwena. Your instinct is still to protect us.’
Rachel hesitated. ‘You mean I could fight her? Good Witch against bad Witch?’
‘Yes. Why not? Perhaps you are not turning into Dragwena’s kind of Witch at all. You might be able to protect the caves if need be. We must be careful to make the right decision. Think! Everything Dragwena showed you could be a lie. There may be no army approaching Latnap Deep.’
Grimwold knelt nearby. ‘No. I sent someone to check. The Witch’s army is coming, just as Rachel described it.’
Rachel gazed around the cave at the anxious faces of the Sarren.
‘There isn’t much time,’ she said. ‘I don’t believe I can defeat the Witch. None of the spells I have learned show me how to do this. But I think I can get you all to safety, and then . . . I’ll go somewhere alone, a long way off. It doesn’t matter where. I’ll wait until the transformation is complete, and see what happens to me. I daren’t remain close to you all now. I can’t take that risk. I’m thinking . . . if I can draw Dragwena off, fight her, weaken her somehow, maybe there will be a chance.’
Morpeth said firmly, ‘We will never abandon you to Dragwena. We should stay together, no matter what happens.’
Trimak pulled out a knife. ‘Morpeth is right. I once pledged to use this against you, Rachel.’ He threw the knife down. ‘That was a shameful thought. I sense Dragwena is deliberately trying to separate us. Stay. We will do what we can to protect you.’
Grimwold nodded, and all the Sarren fit enough to stand raised their swords and knelt before her.
‘No,’ Rachel said, her lip trembling. ‘Look after Eric. Just don’t let me or the Witch hurt him! Don’t . . .’ She trailed off, knowing Morpeth or the rest of the Sarren would never be able to protect Eric from Dragwena. The thought that she herself might hurt Eric was unbearable. Would Eric be safer with the Sarren? Or with her? Or – for a moment Rachel had a terrible vision of Eric all alone on Ithrea’s snows, hiding from both her and Dragwena.
Eric tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Hey, you.’
Rachel turned, and felt her four new jaws turn with her.
‘I trust you,’ he said. ‘Don’t go without me, Rachel. Don’t leave me here.’
Rachel pulled him close. ‘Aren’t you scared of me?’
He grinned awkwardly. ‘Well, a bit. Your teeth look flipping terrible.’
Rachel laughed – all four jaws joining in.
‘But I’ve got this,’ Eric said, stabbing his finger at the cave walls. ‘I won’t let Dragwena scare me. I won’t!’
Rachel tried to smile. Was bringing Eric with her the right thing to do? Or was that what Dragwena wanted her to do?
Grimwold paced the floor of the cave. ‘I don’t see how you can get us safely from the caves, Rachel. Are you expecting the Sarren to run from this advancing army? Look at us!’ He swept his arms around. ‘Most can barely walk. Where will we go? Where will we hide?’
‘Describe the weather,’ Rachel said.
‘What?’
‘Is it dark outside?’
‘Well, night, yes,’ he replied impatiently. ‘The sun set over an hour ago. So what? That will not protect us. Armath is full and shining like a demon down on us all. Dragwena’s spies will spot us instantly.’ He turned to Trimak. ‘Let Rachel and Eric go if they must, but I say the Sarren should remain in Latnap Deep, and fight as best we can. Once we go to the surface, we’ll be virtually defenceless. At least in the caves we can match steel with the Neutrana.’
Several Sarren muttered agreement.
‘You won’t need to run or fight,’ Rachel said, scanning them. ‘I have new powers now.’
Those Sarren who had serious wounds immediately stood up and shook themselves, their injuries gone. Rachel found the new spells she needed pouring effortlessly into her mind. Dragwena’s spells, she realized. What was the best spell? What kind of spell could surprise Dragwena and enable them to escape undetected?
‘Move everyone to the high corridors of Latnap Deep,’ Rachel said, making up her mind.
‘Where will you take us?’ asked Trimak.
‘Nowhere is safe. I’ll take you as far from here as I can.’
As Rachel spoke a tooth sliced through her cheek – followed by a huge jaw. All the teeth stretched forward hungrily, trying to reach the Sarren. She felt something crawl over her gums and knew it was a spider, born in the saliva of her mouth. She did not try to spit it out, knowing other spiders were also being born who would replace it.
‘Better hurry,’ she said bitterly.
18
Mawkmound
Rachel sat for a few minutes alone, making the spell she needed to leave the caves.
When it was ready the world above the Sarren altered. High in the night sky of Ithrea seven clouds moved furtively towards Latnap Deep. From the west they came, moving swiftly with the light breeze, though not so swiftly that their movement seemed different from any other cloud in the sky. For several miles they crept along the horizon, hugging the low hills, before rising in one great mass to obscure the moon.
‘Now,’ Rachel said to a sentry.
He lifted the doorway a few inches and glanced cautiously around. Dragwena’s army approached, visible in all directions. The Sarren huddled in the corridors beneath the door, uncertain what to expect. A cold mist poured into the crack, covering everyone in a milky wetness.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Rachel’s voice announced. ‘Let the air surround you. I have summoned the mist to protect us. We will fly as a cloud. It will lift you into the sky. You will not fall, and the journey will be short.’
The next moment everyone’s body reared up from the ground, as if a soft pillow had been placed beneath them. They all hung in the corridor, their feet a few inches above the floor.
‘I’m ready,’ said Rachel.
Led by her the Sarren floated slowly upwards into the night air – singly, as the doorway was too small for more than one to pass. Gently, like steam drifting from the mouth of a kettle, they poured out of Latnap Deep. By the time the last had been sucked out of the corridor Rachel herself was a thousand feet in the sky.
The long, thin column of greyness rotated in the air until it lay parallel to the horizon and flat. There it hovered. From a distance the column now looked exactly like a narrow grey cloud. No one could be seen or heard within. It drifted briefly in the light winds, travelling westwards with the other clouds in the sky, hiding the light of Armath and stars.
‘Prepare yourselves!’ Rachel exulted, her voice travelling throughout the length of the mist. ‘We’re departing!’
The cloud came to a stop, while those about it continued to roll west. A moment later, and silently, it shot southwestwards, keeping low to the ground. Inside the cloud many panicked as their bodies felt the lurch. The cloud gathered pace, cutting through the night. Rachel sent a warming spell through it, protecting everyone from the freezing wind.
A lone prapsy, flitting high in the sky, saw the cloud pass underneath. It blinked several times. ‘What’s that?’ it asked itself, but the cloud had gone, and the prapsy instantly forgot what it had seen. Instead, it kept watch on the Witch’s army marching below – Neutrana and the wolves would arrive at Latnap Deep within the hour.
The cloud, only briefly airborne, came to a halt over some gentle hills close to the South Pole of Ithrea: Mawkmound. Rachel had chosen it at random. Her journey through Dragwena’s mind had taught her everything about the planet. Here there were no spies, she knew. Nothing lived on Mawkmound except for a few scrawny trees, somehow defying the winds.
The cloud gently fell to the ground and dispersed, spilling Sarren into the snow. Several men leapt to their feet at once, their swords high and ready. Grimwold and Morpeth stayed close to Rachel, their eyes alert.
Morpeth walked the short distance between them and held
her hands. ‘Are you sure leaving is the right thing to do?’ he asked. ‘We would feel safer if you stayed.’
Rachel clacked her new teeth. ‘What about these?’
‘I could get used to them,’ said Morpeth, lowering his gaze. ‘I’m not sure I could get used to being without you.’
Rachel stroked his lean chin. ‘You know, I think I preferred your ragged beard. I liked the old Morpeth better.’
‘I’ll grow it again for you,’ he said earnestly. ‘When you return.’
‘I could change you back now if you like.’
Morpeth grinned. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I can see over Trimak’s head for the first time in over five hundred years. It’s nice not having to look up at everyone all the time!’
‘I never noticed that,’ Rachel said, trying to hold back her tears. ‘Whenever I watched, everyone was always looking up to you, Morpeth.’
As she hugged him, Morpeth said, ‘Where’s Eric going?’
Rachel saw Eric wandering away across a distant snow mound. ‘Come back,’ she shouted. ‘Eric!’
Eric ignored her. ‘Dragwena is here, or was here,’ he said. ‘Magic has a smell.’ He lay face down in the snow and spread his arms. Sniffing, he drew circular patterns with his hands. ‘I’ll find her!’
‘No, Eric!’ Rachel cried.
Without warning, the snow in front of Eric parted and a figure uncoiled from the ground.
It was Dragwena.
Before Eric could defend himself the Witch struck him hard across the face, knocking him several feet across the snow. He lay there bleeding and unconscious. ‘Time for you later, boy,’ the Witch said.
Grimwold was the first to react. He and several Sarren threw themselves at the Witch. Dragwena fixed each with a swift look, throwing them hundreds of feet into the dark sky. Before they fell Rachel glanced up, held them in the air, pinned like wingless butterflies against the stars.
‘Very good,’ said Dragwena, ‘but not quite good enough.’ She sent a piercing thrust into Rachel’s mind. The pain made Rachel lose control for a second. That moment was all it took for the Grimwold and the other Sarren to tumble from the skies.
Tumble to their deaths.
‘There, child-hope,’ said Dragwena. ‘I shall enjoy many such deaths tonight. Did you think you could escape? You fool. You stink. Don’t you realize that? You stink of magic. I could recognize your smell anywhere now. The cloud was a clumsy device, easily followed. As for Eric, I knew he would not be able to resist using his unusual gift to search for me. It is all so easy. You are only children. I will always be able to outwit you.’
Filled with horror, Rachel gazed at the dead Sarren. She prepared herself, expecting the Witch to attack her immediately. Instead, Dragwena said, ‘You must know you can’t defeat me. Why fight at all? Come to me willingly and I will spare the remainder of your friends. Even little Eric. I promise.’
Rachel instantly read the Witch’s mind. Dragwena was momentarily unguarded. She blocked the spell, but not before Rachel had seen the truth: Dragwena planned to kill the Sarren savagely.
‘You are afraid,’ said Rachel. ‘Nothing else would have made you promise something like that. You are lying. You are afraid of Eric, and you are afraid of me!’
Dragwena’s confident mask fell away.
‘Why are you so scared, Witch?’
Dragwena did not answer.
Rachel paused, for the first time really sensing their differences. ‘I know why,’ she realized. ‘I’m not turning into your kind of Witch, am I?’ She touched the four jaws on her face. ‘In fact, I’m not . . . turning into a Witch at all.’
‘You cannot resist much longer,’ said Dragwena. ‘Stop trying.’
Rachel cast her mind over everything that had happened – the stabbing wound in the eye-chamber, Dragwena’s insistence that it meant one thing only. As soon as Rachel questioned herself she understood the truth.
She faced Dragwena. ‘It was you who tried to convince me I was becoming a Witch,’ Rachel whispered. ‘Over and over you kept saying I would be like you, think like you, look like you. And I believed it.’ Rachel felt her hair, her arms, her four lips, and smiled. ‘My own magic was developing. But magic doesn’t know what it wants. Morpeth taught me that in the Breakfast Room, when I had to choose the colour of the bread. I forgot that simple lesson. Magic wants to be used. But it needs control. My magic ached to do something. Without realizing it I used it. I was so sure that I was becoming a Witch that the magic worked to do exactly that. If I had gone on believing, I might have become your kind of Witch in the end. That was your plan, all along.’
Instantly, Rachel returned her body to normal. She faced Dragwena with one set of teeth, her hair dark. ‘You dumb, stupid Witch,’ she said. ‘I know what you want – to return to Earth to kill the Wizards and children. But you need my help, don’t you? You can’t do it alone. And I won’t give it! A soothing voice won’t work on me now, or your other tricks.’ She looked without fear at Dragwena. ‘I’ve learnt a lot. I can destroy myself if I need to. Whatever happens, you won’t be able to turn me into your Witch. I’ll never allow the dark verse to come true.’
Dragwena probed her mind. Rachel captured the thought and threw it back.
Dragwena shrieked her rage over and over, her voice echoing across Mawkmound.
‘Then I hope you are ready for a battle, Rachel,’ Dragwena hissed. ‘You are useless to me now. I can’t allow you to live.’ Her tattooed eyes were fierce. ‘A real fight! I have not had that pleasure for many years.’
‘A fight to the death,’ Rachel whispered.
‘Of course.’
Rachel tried to remain calm, unprepared for this. ‘I know some interesting spells now,’ she said weakly.
‘True,’ said Dragwena. ‘You borrowed them from me. But I know all the defences against those spells. I hope you have a new weapon, or our contest will be brief indeed.’
‘That would be telling,’ Rachel said.
‘Now you do sound like a Witch,’ Dragwena laughed. ‘Brave little girl, do you know how many ways I have to kill you?’
Rachel nodded. ‘I know everything, all your spells.’
‘No,’ Dragwena said softly. ‘You know only what I allowed you to see. When Eric helped you find the death-spells I escaped before you found the deadliest. There are spells even more powerful than those: Doomspells. You have no defence against them, child. Doesn’t that make you afraid?’
‘Everything about you frightens me,’ Rachel answered. ‘But you would not be wasting time now unless you were also afraid of me.’
Dragwena appraised Rachel carefully, even admiringly. ‘What a pity it is to have to destroy you,’ she said. ‘Still, if you exist there will be others to follow, no doubt. Larpskendya has bred magic in the children of Earth well. I thank him for that. I will not make the same mistakes with new children I made with you.’ She stepped back. Her soul-snake licked diagonally across her face, a gesture to start the battle. ‘Since you are game enough to challenge me, do you want to start the first spell, Rachel? I think you deserve that honour.’
Rachel glanced at Eric, still lying face down in the snow. She had to get Dragwena away from him as soon as possible – away from Mawkmound. She transformed into a raven and flapped into the sky.
Dragwena did not follow her immediately. Instead she turned to the Sarren. ‘Watch the final scene,’ she exulted. ‘It will be the last thing you ever see. When I return I’m going to burn you all to death.’
A moment later a second raven cawed and sped after Rachel.
Everyone on Mawkmound gazed nervously after the black birds as they winged into the brooding night.
19
Doomspell
Rachel was not ready to fight. She flew in a panic, wondering where to go. Where would be a safe place to hide? She shifted her mind to the Ragged Mountains, far from Mawkmound. She flew effortlessly amongst the peaks and valleys, wondering how to use the new spells, knowing Dragwena had pr
actised them for thousands of years.
Safety first, Rachel thought. Become difficult to find. She stilled the sound of her beating wings to utter silence. Thick flocks of snow burned her eyes, so she flew blind, yet still saw the world with perfect clarity. Armath was bright, so she changed the colours of her upper body to reflect the moonlight. In the distance the Palace jutted from the ground, impenetrable black against the near black of the sky.
Would Dragwena find her quickly? Yes. Should she attack or defend? The spells gave her different answers when she asked them. Was there anything she could do that Dragwena could not? Something new, a weapon Dragwena had never seen before? The spells offered no answer to this. Then Rachel realized she had not guarded her thoughts. Furious with herself, she blanked them out.
Instantly Dragwena appeared alongside her, wingtip to wingtip.
‘Too late,’ said Dragwena. ‘You must think of the obvious things first, child. I could hear your thoughts yammering from Mawkmound. And now I know you have no secret weapon, either. You should never have revealed that. Keep me interested, or I’ll tear your heart out.’
Rachel shifted rapidly and at random: from the Ragged Mountains to Dragwood; from Lake Ker to the Palace, hurrying, never staying in one place more than a few seconds. While she moved she also changed her shape, trying to throw off the Witch. Eventually, Rachel merged with the black rock of the Palace wall, becoming a grain of the wall itself, and waited there anxiously.
Part of the wall nearby spoke to her. ‘Is this the best you can do? I know the pattern of your magic too well now for shape-shifting to throw me off. You caught me by surprise with your speck-of-dust trick in the eye-tower, but that can never work again. Hurry, I’m getting impatient. Dazzle me with your magic!’