The owners of the last ten copies in the world of The Chosen Ones were all being brought to the Town Hall for the ceremony and were to be given some extra honour, which was to remain a secret, but which was rumoured to be more money. Orwell Bookend had been sent a badge with the word SUPERFAN on it, which he was supposed to wear tomorrow. The badge looked stupid, but if it meant more money he would wear it. If it meant more money, he would wear anything.
Soon Lexy and Wolf arrived and knocked at the front door. Orwell greeted them with a slightly reptilian smile and offered them each a biscuit.
‘Take a plate of them in to my daughter,’ he said. ‘She’s not been well, you know.’
‘Where’s Raven?’ asked Effie when everyone was assembled.
‘We couldn’t get through to her,’ said Lexy. ‘I hope she’s OK.’
As quickly as she could, Effie explained what had happened to her. When she talked about the Yearning everyone went very still and very quiet, as if she was telling a ghost story.
‘How do you feel now?’ said Wolf.
‘The same,’ said Effie. ‘It’s horrible. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.’ She shivered, and reached for her glass of water, which she didn’t even want. But she felt she had to do something to break the mood and stop her friends staring at her in that strange way.
‘And where are these golden capsules?’ asked Lexy.
‘Here,’ said Effie, taking them out of her box. She passed the plastic container to Lexy.
‘But there are still three of them,’ said Wolf. ‘You were supposed to have taken one by now.’
Lexy was looking at the capsules and frowning.
‘What do you think?’ Effie asked her.
‘I don’t know,’ said Lexy.
‘Something’s not right about them,’ said Effie. ‘If Skylurian Midzhar is behind their production, I don’t want to take them.’
‘But Dr Black told you to,’ said Wolf. ‘If they’re going to make you better . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Don’t be stupid, Effie. You don’t know everything. If it’s medicine, you ought to take it.’
Effie thought for a moment about what Wolf had said. Maybe he was right, but something still felt wrong about the capsules. She sighed.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I just keep thinking about the sacrifice Pelham Longfellow had to make in return for them. They’re, I don’t know, tainted in some way. It’s like what we learned about tragedy. It’s like . . .’ Because Effie was an interpreter, she was more able than normal people to take things from stories and relate them to life. Being a true hero helped as well, because true heroes always find themselves wrapped up in story-like situations. But she was tired, and the Yearning was bad, and so the thought fizzled out.
‘I think you’re right,’ said Maximilian, looking at his watch. ‘There’s something wrong with those capsules. We just don’t know what it is yet. And there might be another way.’
He looked at Effie and when their eyes met she knew he understood everything she was thinking, and not because he was reading her mind. Their friendship had always been like that, especially just recently, since Maximilian had gone inside a book like Effie had. Even though they were so different, Effie and Maximilian knew they would always understand each other.
‘What other way?’ said Effie.
‘I can’t describe it until I’ve done it. Just give me this evening,’ he said. ‘I think I might be able to do something to help. Let me try.’
‘But—’ said Wolf.
‘There’s a piano concert,’ said Maximilian meaningfully.
Effie nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘But be careful.’
‘I’ll come and knock on your window later,’ said Maximilian.
‘And I’m going to take one of these capsules to Aunt Octavia,’ said Lexy. ‘If she doesn’t know what they are, then I think I might try Dr Cloudburst.’
‘Dr Cloudburst?’ said Wolf. ‘But . . .’
‘If he can test for dodgy substances in our pee, then he should be able to test for them in these capsules.’
‘That’s a great idea. Thank you,’ said Effie, squeezing her friend’s arm. ‘Although I’m not sure he’ll find anything. I think it’s even more sinister than that.’ A single tear slipped down her face. ‘Oh, this is so stupid,’ she said. ‘I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.’
‘We’ll help you,’ said Wolf, putting his hand on her shoulder. ‘That’s what friends do. And we’ll do it your way. Don’t worry.’
Soon, Effie’s friends went to get on with their investigations. Maximilian was going to the piano concert to see if he could use it to get to the Underworld at last. Lexy and Wolf were going to try to find out more about the golden capsules.
Effie was left alone with the pile of postcards that Lexy had brought her. Each one had a sort of historical image on the front. There was a factory, a boat, some books. Lexy had also left Effie as many tonics as she could carry, along with a medicine bundle that she said she had been working on this week ‘just in case’.
You can’t die in this world, not from the Yearning, Effie reminded herself. You can’t die; you can just feel worse. For a moment Effie imagined what it would be like to feel worse. She could cry and cry. She could feel as sad as it was possible to feel. She could sit in her bedroom and think the worst thoughts it was possible to think. But still, despite all that, she would survive. She knew she would. The thought gave her strength. The Yearning could not really hurt her. It was just her spirit asking for lifeforce. There was no need to be afraid. As Effie thought these things, her lifeforce slowly increased, although she could not quite feel it yet.
Effie unwrapped Lexy’s medicine bundle. Inside were two different green stones, and two sprigs of dried herbs. One sprig was made of leaves and the other was made of flowers that looked a bit like daisies. There was also a small triangle of incense and a tea-light candle made of yellow beeswax. Effie went to the kitchen and made an infusion of the herbs by steeping them in boiling water. Then she went back to her room and took out the candle-holder she’d got from her grandfather’s place but had not yet used. It was silver, with a pattern of dragons, and several red stones. Effie put the candle in the holder and lit it. She lit the incense. She sent a request out to the universe, that not just she but all sufferers of the Yearning be helped. She sat down on the rug on the floor to meditate, holding on to both green stones. After about fifteen minutes of that, she did feel a little better. She got back on her bed and picked up the postcards again that Lexy had brought, and started to examine them, one by one. She was still sure that there was something funny about them.
24
It was taking Raven Wilde longer and longer each evening to bless the creatures around the folly. They all seemed to have something wrong with them. As Raven blessed the robin, she sensed that he’d been suffering from a severe bird-migraine all day. The blackbirds all had IBS, which in the avian world means Irritable Beak Syndrome. The grey squirrels had come out in eczema around their hind paws. The tarantulas were moulting. It was quite peculiar. Even Echo and Jet were moaning and groaning about something that had been happening. But for some reason they wouldn’t say exactly what it was.
While Raven was changing the water in the bird-bath – which seemed to have gone completely green and unhealthy-looking just in the course of one day – she noticed an odd light shining in the sky. It was peculiar. It reminded her of something . . .
‘Darling,’ came Skylurian’s mellifluous voice. ‘You’ll get cold out here. Come in. Terrence is making you a butternut squash curry. It’s your favourite, I believe? And then I’ve lined up a whole evening of entertainment for you both. I sent Terrence to the video shop and he brought back some real delights. The Craft. Lolly Willowes. That sort of thing.’
‘I’m not allowed to watch videos on a school night.’
Skylurian sighed and then fake-smiled.
‘Yes, well, you are allowed on this night. Meanwhile, I’m going to b
athe, dress and then go and dine with Albion Freake in his suite at the Regency Hotel in the city.’
‘Actually, I was thinking of going back into the city myself to see my friends,’ said Raven. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’
‘I’d really rather you didn’t leave the folly, my sweet,’ said Skylurian. ‘Although . . . Actually, you’ve given me an idea. Yes, of course. If you really do want to come into the city, then I think it would be much better if you came with me. You’re quite an attractive little accessory, after all. You own an evening gown, do you not? Yes. It will be better to keep you with me, I think, than imprison you here ready for tomorrow.’
‘Imprison me?’
‘Just a figure of speech, darling. More or less.’
‘Well, in that case, I think I’m just going to go and see my friends as I planned. I hope you don’t mind. But thanks for the offer of dinner.’
Raven turned to go back into the folly. The light flashed in the sky again. Was it a meteor? But it was too low for that, surely? And it went off and on in a sort of pattern.
‘Oh dear. It seems, then, that I’m just going to have to properly take you prisoner,’ said Skylurian pleasantly. ‘And therefore keep a much closer eye on you. You will bathe, dress and be ready to leave to accompany me to dinner with Albion Freake at seven o’clock precisely. Do you understand?’
Raven narrowed her eyes. She was not going to be bossed around by this ridiculous woman. She was not the boldest of twelve-year-old girls, but she had never liked being told what to do. And as for those lights shining in the darkness . . . Yes, she could understand it now. It was Morse Code. Dot, dot, dot; dash, dash dash; dot, dot, dot. S . . . O . . . S. Her mother had used it in one of her books a couple of years before, and Raven had helped her research how you used a mirror and a torch to beam your help message into the sky. Laurel Wilde was somewhere on the moors, and she needed Raven to rescue her.
Suddenly the robin, who had been perched on a branch enjoying his evening blessing from his witch friend, let out a pitiful squawk and flapped his wings as if something underneath them was hot or painful. What was happening? Raven looked at Skylurian, who had one manicured finger raised and pointing directly at the robin. At once Raven understood why all the animals and birds were so unhappy.
‘What are you doing to him? Stop it!’ said Raven.
‘Why do you bless all these animals?’ said Skylurian. ‘It’s so very twee. It means I have to go around smiting them all just to balance things out. It’s exhausting.’
‘And what have you done to my mother? She’s not on a book tour at all! You lied. She’s on the moor somewhere, and she’s in trouble.’
‘And so are you, darling,’ breathed Skylurian. ‘I wouldn’t bother trying to resist. As of now, you do exactly as I tell you. I can’t kill you, not quite yet, but I can make your ridiculous pets suffer. I can destroy all three of your pathetic tarantulas with one single smite. Do you want that? No, I thought not. So you’d better get inside, now, and dress in a manner suitable to come with me to meet Albion Freake. Of course, I’m going to kill him tomorrow. But tonight we will dine as if he is the most important customer we have ever had.’
‘And what about my mother?’ said Raven.
‘If you do exactly what you’re told I might spare her, and all your stupid animals. But if not?’ Skylurian slowly drew her long finger across her throat. ‘It’s your choice, darling.’
Maximilian had never been to a classical music concert before. Indeed, he’d never been to any kind of concert before, unless you counted the opera he’d attended with Lupoldus and Franz. He was therefore almost glad he had Mr Starling with him, although it was a bit unnerving that Mr Starling had kept trying to read his piano book on the bus, even though it was obviously giving him motion sickness. He was quite green by the time they arrived in the Old Town, and totally viridescent by the time they got off outside the Oddfellows Hall.
Maximilian was the youngest person in the hall by about 150 years. Or so it felt. However, all the old people around him were strangely glamorous. Maximilian was fascinated by the different silk bow ties the men were wearing, and the gowns in different shades of wine and olive, some obviously decades old, that the women had on. There was one woman who was a little younger than the rest, and she looked familiar, although Maximilian couldn’t place her. She was wearing a green silk gown and plum nail varnish. Just before the pianist came in and sat down, the woman winked at Maximilian.
The pianist was a young, thin woman with a severe fringe and a ring through her nose. She was wearing a black evening gown. Maximilian’s mouth felt dry. Was he going to be able to do this? He knew it was his only chance of getting back to the Underworld.
The pianist began. The piece of music now sounded quite familiar. Yes; Maximilian knew what note was coming next, and when the long pause was going to come, and the stepping stones, and . . .
Then the woman in the green silk gown disappeared.
Interesting. Maximilian blinked and made himself go back to concentrating on the music. An angel’s tear. More stepping stones and . . . He let his mind leap into the music.
And then he was in too. He was falling, falling. The sensation was like going down a very long slide in a theme park that had closed many years ago. Soon Maximilian could see the gatekeeper’s cottage that he had visited when he’d read Beneath the Great Forest, but he didn’t stop there this time. He saw the river pass below him. Then he entered a thick mist which turned into a drizzle as he landed gently in a clearing in a forest.
It was a crossroads of sorts. There were four paths, each stretching off in a different direction into the dense, dark forest. Each path had its own sign. UNIVERSITY OF THE UNDERWORLD, said one. The others were in a language Maximilian could not understand. He reached for his Spectacles of Knowledge, but they were not in his pocket where they had been. It seemed they didn’t want to come to the Underworld with him. Which was a shame, because they would have been extremely useful at this moment.
So he was here, in the Underworld, at last, a place he’d so desperately longed to get to. Why was it so confusing? Of the four paths, which was he supposed to take? And what would he do when he wanted to go back? There was no obvious way of returning to the concert in the Realworld.
Underneath his feet were damp autumn leaves. He could not see the sky beyond the great canopy of trees. Maximilian didn’t often feel scared. He was more likely simply to feel interested in whatever was happening to him. But it was so silent and still that when he heard a twig cracking behind him he jumped.
‘Hello,’ said a female voice.
Maximilian turned around. It was the woman from the concert. The one in the long green dress. She was now carrying a brown leather briefcase.
‘You seem a little lost,’ she said.
‘Do I?’ said Maximilian.
‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘You keep looking at the signs but not actually going anywhere. Who are you? I saw you in the concert.’
‘Maximilian Underwood.’
‘I’m Professor Quinn,’ she said. ‘Are you supposed to be here?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Are you a mage?’
‘Yes.’
‘So perhaps you’re an Apprentice off for your first day at university?’
‘I’m not quite an Apprentice yet,’ said Maximilian.
‘You’re a Neophyte?’
He nodded.
‘And you’ve come here by yourself?’
‘Is that wrong?’
‘Well, it’s certainly quite brave. But people don’t usually come here by accident. I don’t particularly recommend getting lost in this forest. It has a tendency to disappear and leave you in a void. You don’t want that, I promise you. Although some people bizarrely do. There was that group of hippy demons who—’
‘Why are you here?’ interrupted Maximilian.
‘Me? I’m off to give a lecture at the university. Most people are here for the university, of
course. But can I point you in some other direction?’
‘Where do the other paths go?’
‘Can’t you read the signs?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Then they’re closed to you. You’ll probably need to graduate from the university first. Maybe you should come with me and enrol?’
‘How long will it take?’
‘To enrol? A couple of hours. And to graduate? Maybe four years or so.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Maximilian. ‘I’ve actually got to find something to help my friend and then get back as quickly as I can.’
‘Aha! You DO know why you’re here. To help your friend.’
‘Do you think I could use the university library without enrolling?’
Maximilian still thought that what he most needed was a nice thick book called something like The Yearning: Symptoms and Cures. There he might find a good Underworld remedy, which he could write down and take back for Lexy and—
‘But why on earth would you want to do that? Surely you’re simply looking for the wishing well?’
In this situation Effie or Wolf would no doubt just say ‘Yes’ in that confident way that heroes and warriors do and wait to be led to the next part of their adventure. But Maximilian was different.
‘What wishing well?’ he said.
Professor Quinn sighed. ‘Do you really know nothing about the Underworld at all?’
Maximilian shook his head. ‘But I’m trying my best to learn.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to just come to the university with me? Otherwise I’m going to be late. And at least at the university there are lots of apertures to get back and . . . Please tell me you know how to get back?’
Maximilian shook his head again.
‘Good grief. So let me get this straight. You’ve somehow learned how to travel to the Underworld, but not how to get back, and, without any fear at all, you’ve come straight here because it is important to you to help your friend?’
The Chosen Ones Page 23