by Angie Sage
She was interrupted by a gasp. “The Heart of the Ways,” Marcia whispered. “It must be.”
“No,” said Driffa. “It is the long-lost Chamber of the Great Orm itself. This was where the Great Orm came to die after it had laid its last egg—our Egg. But I had no time to look. There were guards in the Chamber waiting at an archway, so Nona and I cantered into the nearest arch and found ourselves in the strangest of places.”
“Did the sorcerer follow you?” Marcia asked.
“No, but three of his Garmin did. Nona and I traveled through many strange places. Some were hot, some were cold; in some it was nighttime, in others it was day, but always there were twelve arches and always there were Garmin behind us. Nona was fast and brave. She outran them—until we came here, where she cast a shoe. Then I used a blizzard to try to conceal us from the Garmin—and your three fierce creatures with knives.”
“I am sorry,” said Marcia. “The Drummins meant no harm.”
“I understand,” said Driffa. She looked at Marcia. “I meant no harm to you, either, but I saw you were a sorcerer. Indeed, you look a little like him.”
“I do?”
“A little. You are taller, and your hair is longer. But the green eyes are the same. And the purple pointy shoes made of snake.”
Marcia was aghast. “He has shoes like mine? Well, that does it, we’ll have to get rid of him.” She smiled at Tod. “Only one of us can wear these shoes. And that is me.”
NONA
It was late. Septimus had returned to the Wizard Tower, the Drummins were asleep in the Fire Pit, and down in the Hub Milo was noisily busy with a bucket and a shovel.
A bright purple light emanating from the Seals suffused the Hub. It looked very pretty, Milo thought, but it did not make it easy to search for horse poo. Milo had just found what he hoped was the last shovelful at the foot of the stairs when he heard the tippy-tap-tap of Marcia’s pointy purple pythons. The pythons were, he could tell, in a hurry.
Marcia rounded the last twist of the spiral stairs, her multicolored cloak flying behind her, and ran straight into Milo. “Goodness, Milo, what are you doing?” she asked.
“Avoiding the curse of the silent footstep.”
“The curse of the silent footstep?” Marcia sounded puzzled, and then a waft of horse dung drifted up to her nose. “Oh, Milo, thank you,” she said.
Milo put down his bucket and leaned his shovel against the wall. He looked serious. “Marcia, I know we agreed not to interfere with each other’s work, but please tell me—what on earth is going on?”
Marcia took Milo’s hands. “Milo, Tod and I are going to take the Snow Princess to the Wizard Tower. Septimus wants to understand who this sorcerer, Oraton-Marr, is. He’s gone to look a few things up and talk to the older Wizards. I promised we’d follow on.”
Milo sighed. “Does this really matter, Marcia? All this stuff is happening on the other side of the world. Why should it bother us?”
“Because, Milo, any moment Oraton-Marr could turn up here.” Marcia looked anxiously around at the Seals.
Milo had great faith in Marcia’s Magykal abilities. “But you’ve Sealed it all. And I’m not stupid, Marcia. I know you added a whole ton of Darke stuff. Nothing can get through those now.”
Marcia shook her head. “No Magyk lasts forever, Milo. And no Magyk is infallible. If Oraton-Marr becomes as powerful as he clearly is determined to be, he will, if he wishes, eventually be standing here, where we are right now. In this Hub. And then all he will have to do is take a short stroll into Way Seven and he will be in the Wizard Tower. We have to stop that from happening.”
Milo was not convinced. “Marcia, you worry too much. This sorcerer chap sounds bonkers to me. He’s obsessed with some mythical egg. Soon enough he’ll find his precious egg doesn’t exist, and he will give up and go somewhere else. I can’t see him bothering to come here. Why would he?”
Marcia smiled. “To get to the most powerful seat of Magyk in the whole world maybe?” She shook her head. “Anyway, Milo, I think it’s possible that this Egg does exist. Marwick used to tell me about the legend of the Orm. It was a giant worm, he said, that created the Ancient Ways. It ate through the rock, leaving lapis lazuli behind.”
Milo laughed. “Young Marwick always had a few good stories to tell. Better than mine sometimes, I have to admit. But it doesn’t mean they are true.”
“And it doesn’t mean they aren’t true,” Marcia countered. Her hand closed over the silver whistle she wore around her neck. Not so long ago, in its place Marcia had worn the Akhu Amulet. This amulet, a Magykal source of power for all ExtraOrdinary Wizards, was made from lapis that—legend had it—came from the belly of the Orm.
Marcia wandered over to Way VII—the one that led to the Wizard Tower. From a space between two stones, she pulled out a tiny piece of pale blue lapis and gave it Milo. “See? It’s sprinkled everywhere. And there is much more of it inside a Way. Little bits of lapis folded into the stone. It is very strange.”
Milo scraped up the last of the horse poo and set the lid on the bucket with a clang. “Hmm,” he said. “But even if there were an egg, why would this sorcerer want it?”
Marcia knew exactly why. “For the lapis lazuli. It concentrates Magyk like nothing else. The Wizard Tower sits on a huge chunk of the stuff. And think of the Dragon House; that’s lined with it. Not to mention the labyrinth that goes to the Great Chamber of Alchemie. That’s why the Castle is such a Magykal place. With enough lapis even minor Magyk can grow powerful. With the right conditions an Orm Egg would hatch and pretty soon the young Orm would begin creating enough lapis lazuli to make even a mediocre Wizard a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention a reasonably powerful Darke one.” Marcia shuddered. “It doesn’t bear thinking about.”
Milo sighed. “I suppose not.”
There was the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. “Ah, here they come,” said Marcia.
Tod and Driffa stepped into the Hub. Driffa squinted in the purple light, shielding her eyes with her hands. “You have powerful Magyk,” she said.
“I hope so,” replied Marcia solemnly. “Right, let’s get going.”
Milo picked up his bucket. “And what about the horse?” he asked.
The Snow Princess gazed at Milo with her big blue eyes. “Nona would like to stay with you,” she said.
“Nona?” asked Milo, a little too dreamily for Marcia’s liking. Clearly Milo thought that the Snow Princess was called Nona.
“The horse, Milo,” Marcia snapped.
“Of course it’s the horse,” said Milo, recovering himself. “Who—I mean, what—else could it be?”
Marcia raised her eyebrows. “Milo, I have no idea.” She looked at Driffa. “We’ll be off now—and see that handsome ExtraOrdinary Wizard of yours.”
Driffa blushed pink against the purple-white of her hair. “Oh, he is not mine,” she said. “Another Princess has him. A grumpy one with dark hair.”
Marcia was puzzled but said nothing. She reminded herself that Septimus’s personal life had nothing to do with her.
“Good-bye,” Milo said a little sadly. “Stay safe.”
“You too.” Marcia gave him a quick hug and then, linking arms with Tod and Driffa, strode into Way VII.
Bucket and shovel in hand, Milo watched the trio walk into the depths of the Way. He saw them step into the strange white mist and their dark shapes fade as they went through the Vanishing Point. And then they were gone.
Deep in the Way, Tod’s hand closed over her little blue lapis box. Inside it she felt the PathFinder tap-tap-tapping against the sides, as if it wanted to be set free.
PART VIII
OSKAR AND FERDIE
Earlier that day, while Tod had been wading through snow, Oskar had been kicking his way through ash.
Three nights had now passed since Tod had sailed away, and Oskar was beginning to realize that not only was Tod not coming back but he didn’t even know where she had gone. The Wizard
Tower could be anywhere in the world—all Oskar knew for sure was that it was somewhere across the sea. Tod had disappeared as completely as Ferdie had done. But unlike Ferdie, Oskar thought angrily, Tod had wanted to.
Oskar and Ferdie had been helping to clear the site of their old house, and now they were heading back to the place that was, for the moment, home. They were living with their elderly cousins, Marni and Dergal Sarn. Being a little way from the main village and almost hidden behind a dune, Marni and Dergal’s house had escaped the blaze. No one wanted to stay in Tod’s old house, which was smashed to pieces inside and still smelled of Garmin.
Over a frugal meal, Marni once again tried to console Ferdie. “Ferdie love, your parents didn’t want to go, but they had little Torr to think about. All the people with kids went.”
“But why did they trust this ‘wise woman’?” asked Ferdie. “They had no idea who she was.”
Marni shook her head. “Panic, I suppose. Many were facing a night out in the open and the thought of those awful Garmin coming back . . . Well, what would you do if someone—especially a big, motherly woman—offered to take you to safety? I would have done the same if I’d had a little one to think of.”
Ferdie frowned. “Marni, did you see this wise woman?” she asked.
Marni shook her head. She stuck out a heavily bandaged foot and glared at it. “I was stuck here with my stupid foot and, what with the house being hidden in this hollow in the dunes, I didn’t see a thing, except the terrible flames shooting up into the sky. But Dergal saw her. Dergal! Dergal!” Marni called.
Dergal Sarn’s head appeared at the top of the ladder. “All right?” he inquired.
“Dergal, you saw the woman come out of the Far, didn’t you?” Marni asked.
Dergal heaved himself up the rest of the ladder and plonked himself down in a chair. “Didn’t take to her myself,” he said.
“What did she look like?” Ferdie asked.
“Well . . .” Dergal, a slow-speaking man, considered the matter. “It was the strangest thing. I had to blink to make sure I hadn’t imagined it. I saw a light coming out of the Far and then the most bizarre woman emerged, carrying a lantern and looking like she didn’t have a care in the world. I mean, there was the village ablaze, flames shooting thirty feet in the air, but she didn’t look surprised at all. What really struck me was the smug little smile she had on her face. Not nice.” Dergal shook her head. “No, I didn’t take to her at all. Not one little bit.”
“But what did she look like?” Ferdie asked again.
“Well, she was a big lady, that’s for sure. And here’s a thing—she looked like she was off to a very fancy party. She was wearing a shiny, bright blue billowing dress, silk I would have said—and she had a piece of gold cloth wound all around her head. Very fancy.” Dergal sounded disapproving.
“Ferdie!” Marni cried out. “Ferdie, whatever is the matter?”
The color had drained from Ferdie’s face. She looked gray. “It’s her,” she whispered.
“Who, sweetheart?” asked Marni. “Dergal, go and get Ferdie some water, she looks terrible—oh, this stupid foot.”
“It’s the Lady,” Ferdie whispered. “From the ship. I was her prisoner. It’s her!”
Marni stared at Ferdie, shocked. “But . . . but it can’t be.”
“It is her,” Ferdie said. “I know it is.”
“No,” Marni said. “No. It must be some other woman in a party dress.”
“Marni,” Dergal said with an air of exasperation. “And just how many women do you suppose walk around the Far in a fancy blue party dress, eh?”
“There’s only one like that,” Ferdie said flatly. “She got me. And now she’s got Mum and Dad and little Torr.”
THIEVES IN THE NIGHT
That night Tod was back in the Junior Girls’ Apprentice Dorm, sleeping peacefully. But far away across the sea, Oskar and Ferdie lay wide-awake. They were sharing a bedroom, just as they used to before Torr was born and, as ever, they were talking late into the night. But they were no longer whispering about Oskar’s plans for what he called “contraptions” or Ferdie’s ideas for a new kite. Now their conversation was serious—because Oskar and Ferdie had decided to track down the Lady.
When everyone had gone to bed, Ferdie crept downstairs. She put as much dried food as she felt was fair to take into her backpack, filled up the water bag and took two light sticks from the cupboard. Ferdie knew it was not good to be raiding Marni and Dergal’s store cupboard. She felt like a thief in the night, but she hoped they would understand.
Meanwhile, Oskar was writing a letter, and finding it difficult. When Ferdie returned with the backpack he showed it to her.
Dear Marni and Dergal and Jerra and Annar,
Ferdie and me are going into the Far to find Mum and Dad and Torr. And everyone. I know you will be worried, but we will be all right.
Love from Oskar and
Ferdie looked at the letter. It was a typical Oskie letter, she thought, short and to the point, but she didn’t think she could do any better. She signed her name beside his.
They slept for a few hours. Oskar woke just before dawn and shook Ferdie awake. In minutes they were easing open the outside door and climbing stealthily down the ladder. The first rays of the sun were creeping over the dunes as Oskar and Ferdie stepped into the Far.
Far away across the water, in the Wizard Tower, Tod slept on. At the foot of her bed, Dan’s fishing vest was neatly folded. And under her pillow was her blue lapis box, where the PathFinder, like Tod, now slept. But unlike Tod, the PathFinder slept peacefully. It had no nightmares of dark forests and prison cells.
THE FAR
The early-morning sun shone through the pale green leaves of the beech trees as Oskar and Ferdie walked briskly along. It felt like the beginning of so many family picnics they had enjoyed over the years, and neither of them could quite believe that this expedition into the Far was going to be any different.
They had no trouble following the path that people had taken. Oskar was in his element. “Look, Ferd,” he said. “You can see all those snapped twigs, the leaves broken off and brushed onto the ground, the trodden grass. You can tell that tons of people have been this way. It will be easy to follow them.”
After a few hours of steady walking they reached the usual Sarn picnic spot—a bright clearing with a small stream bubbling through on its way to the sea. Oskar paced the clearing, looking for clues in the sunlight. He felt that if he looked carefully enough he would surely see traces of his parents and little brother. There were indeed signs of children—a few small footprints in the mud beside the stream—but nothing that could tell Oskar to whom they belonged. But as Oskar walked slowly along the stream he came across something that he did not want to see.
“Ferd.” The tension in Oskar’s voice had Ferdie running to his side.
“Oskie, what is it?”
“Come here.”
Ferdie peered at the patch of mud that Oskar was squatting beside. “What?” she asked anxiously.
“Garmin.”
“Garmin? But . . . but how can you tell?”
Oskar pointed to what looked like a huge, doglike paw print scuffed into the mud.
Ferdie didn’t want to believe it. “It could be any kind of animal, Oskie.”
Oskar shook his head. “No, Ferd. Look at this . . . See here? That’s the front paw. Like a monkey’s hand. See, where it’s leaned down to drink?” He looked up at his sister. “It’s a Garmin, Ferd. There’s no way around it.”
Ferdie picked up a stone and hurled it angrily into the stream. “I hate her,” she said. “I hate her.”
Oskar knew exactly who Ferdie was talking about. “Yeah,” he said.
“Mum and Dad and Torr. They must have been so scared.”
“Yeah,” said Oskar.
Ferdie kicked the Garmin tracks in disgust. Then she looked up at Oskar and said, “We’re going to get her, Oskie. She’s going to regret she ever messe
d with us.”
“Yeah,” said Oskar. But he didn’t sound convinced.
They sat down miserably on the well-trodden grassy bank and Ferdie fished out two large biscuits, a handful of dried raisins and an apple. “Breakfast,” she said.
“Not hungry,” muttered Oskar.
“Oskie, eat,” Ferdie instructed. “We have to keep strong.”
They had lapsed into silence, picking at the raisins, when Ferdie said, “I wonder what Tod is doing right now?”
“Who cares?” Oskar said crossly. He picked up a small stone and hurled it into the stream. “But you can bet she won’t be thinking about us, that’s for sure.”
But right then, thinking about Ferdie and Oskar was precisely what Tod was doing. She was in a stuffy conference room in the Wizard Tower, listening to long and complex discussions about Ancient Ways. The meeting was slow, technical and full of words she did not understand. Tod gazed out the hazy, purple window and longed to be outside in the sun. She ached for the smell of the sea and the feel of sand beneath her bare feet once again. And she wanted to see Ferdie and Oskar so much that it hurt. As the meeting droned on and the hands on the clock hardly seemed to move, Tod made a decision. She would go to see Nicko and Snorri on the Adventurer as soon as she could. And then she would beg them to take her home. She could not bear being parted from Ferdie and Oskar a moment longer.
“Argh!” A sudden yell from Ferdie put an end to Oskar’s angry thoughts. She leaped to her feet, kicking out at the dead leaves, shouting, “Get off! Get off!”
Ferdie hopped around clutching her ankle, and Oskar caught sight of a small and very furry rodent scurrying for cover. “It’s a wood vole!” he exclaimed. “Oh, wow, I’ve never seen one before. Wasn’t it sweet?”