by Angie Sage
Benn glanced at Alex. “Run?” he mouthed.
Alex shook her head. Their only hope was to get out of the city, and the only way out was through that tantalizing gap between the gates. She glanced anxiously up at a large silver bell that hung over the gates on a delicate iron frame. She guessed this must be the famous Beguiler Bell, which rang every time anyone with any Enchantment about them walked beneath it. If that was true, Alex thought, even if they made it through the gates, the guards would come after them. But even so, if they could stay invisible, they still had a good chance of escape. They would have to be careful—the two javelins were dangerously sharp, and the guards were edgy. Very edgy.
“Breathing,” said the aunt suddenly. “Someone’s here. Breathing.”
“Breathing?” whispered the nephew, sounding spooked. Alex noticed his pikestaff was trembling.
“Commence Concealed Beguiler Discovery Procedure!” instructed his aunt. The nephew looked terrified. He hadn’t trained to do this yet. He watched his aunt leap forward, high-stepping like a prancing pony, waving her razor-sharp javelin in a complicated dance that the nephew knew was designed to discover any invisible object in their path. Clumsily, he followed her, hopping from side to side like an anxious goat with boots on.
Benn couldn’t help it—he had never seen anything so funny. In one disastrous second, he let out a snort of laughter, gasped in shock and clapped his hands over his mouth. He had let go of Alex. Suddenly, he was visible.
The pimply guard screamed. His aunt, with great presence of mind, leaped back and stood, javelin poised, in the gap between the gates. Chaos erupted and yet more guards appeared in the snicket that led through to the next court. They had no choice but to turn and run for the only escape left to them—the star snicket through which they had just come. Together, Alex and Benn leaped over the stone crocodile and raced into a tall, open-fronted shelter next to the mews. There they threw themselves down and burrowed beneath a heap of pungent straw in the farthest corner.
Alex took a deep breath and managed to summon enough energy to once more include Benn in her Fade. It wasn’t so easy this time. She was so angry with Benn for messing up their escape she felt like she had to push through a big barrier to make the Enchantment work. But at last it happened; Alex saw a slight blurring of the edges of Benn’s hand. She watched it travel up his arm and run across him as though he had walked into water. She had done it. Alex felt suddenly exhausted and slumped back against the rough wooden side of the shed.
“I’m sorry,” Benn whispered, squeezing Alex’s unresponsive hand. “I am so, so sorry.”
Alex did not have the strength to reply.
Chapter 10
Rocadile
FROM THE SHELTER OF THEIR hiding place—which Alex guessed had been the roost for the Hawke—they watched the search for them spread across Mews Court. There was an assortment of javelin-bearing gate guards, some wan-looking dungeon guards glad to be out in the fresh air and a group of excitable young stable hands who glanced casually into the old Hawke roost and then moved on.
But then, leaping through the star snicket, came three Jackal. Alex and Benn felt a flicker of fear. This was getting serious. They watched the Jackal crouching on all fours, their red coats swishing along the dusty cobbles, their noses to the ground—heading straight for their hiding place. Very slowly, Alex and Benn slipped farther down beneath the straw and lay still, their hearts hammering. They could hear the snuffling of Jackal breath, the scratching of claws upon the cobbles as the creatures moved ever closer to them. Alex fought back a longing to break cover—to leap out of the foul-smelling straw, punch her way out of the trap and run for it. But she knew there was nowhere to run. And she knew too that as soon as she let go of Benn he would become visible once more and he wouldn’t stand a chance. So she lay there cornered, feeling the Jackal drawing ever nearer.
Suddenly a massive sneeze came from the nearest Jackal, so forceful that it threw the creature backward onto the other two. They leaped up, snarling and snapping at what they considered to be an attack, and launched themselves onto the unfortunate sneezer. The sneezer fought back and the fight tumbled out of the shelter and continued across the courtyard, scattering the other searchers as they removed themselves to a safe distance. There was not a person in Rekadom who would dare break up a Jackal fight.
After that, the heat went out of the search. People drifted away and, still snapping and snarling, the three Jackal loped off to search elsewhere. Alex and Benn waited until the courtyard was empty and then tentatively crawled out from the Hawke roost. The shadows were slanting long across the ground now, the sun had dropped down below the city walls, and above them the clouds were clearing. Benn sighed. It would have been a great afternoon for a sail in Merry.
But Alex had another, more worrying thought. “Hey, Benn,” she whispered. “I need to look something up. Can you hold my arm instead?”
“Sure.” Careful not to lose contact with Alex, Benn moved his hand so he was holding on to Alex’s elbow. He watched Alex take the codex from inside the wide green sash she wore around her waist. Carefully, she flipped through its tissue-thin pages, which were covered in tiny, spidery writing, and then she stopped and began reading intently. Even though Benn did not understand what Alex was reading, he understood well enough from the way she suddenly tensed that it was not good. After some minutes, Alex closed the codex and pushed it back into her sash.
“What’s wrong?” asked Benn.
“I thought so. There’s a Twilight Haunting here in the Outer Star,” Alex whispered. “Rocadiles.”
“Sheesh,” Benn whispered. “We’ve had it.”
“I’ve had it,” Alex clarified. “You’ll be all right.”
“If a Haunting gets you, I will most definitely not be all right,” Benn told Alex. “Are there any Hauntings inside the Star?”
“None. Which makes sense, if you think about it. My father lived there when he Engendered the Hauntings. So if he’d done any for the Inner Star, they would have gotten him.”
“Yeah. That’s true. So it’s simple, right? All we have to do is get inside the Star before sunset. Easy.”
Alex returned Benn’s wry smile. “Yeah. Easy.”
“Well, why not?” Benn said. “We just have to find a way through. A door that’s not locked.”
“But you heard what the king yelled—about locking all the doors?” Alex asked.
“I heard. But he yells a lot, doesn’t he? And when people yell a lot, they often don’t get listened to.”
“But he’s the king,” said Alex.
“And he yells,” said Benn. “Come on, let’s go find a door that no one’s bothered to lock.”
Alex allowed Benn to pull her to her feet. She wasn’t at all hopeful, but it was better than waiting to discover what a Rocadile was.
Taking care to keep holding hands, they walked slowly along the foot of the high wall that divided Mews Court from the Inner Star, searching for any sign of a way through. They tried three small doors, but not one shifted an inch. They glimpsed one tantalizing window high up, which was open, but there was no way they could get up to it. They reached the very last door—a wide plank in a narrow alcove behind the falconry mews—and they pushed against it hard. It would not move.
“Locked,” muttered Benn angrily. He had to stop himself from kicking it.
“That’s it then,” Alex said flatly. “We’re trapped.” A familiar feeling of dread was welling up inside her. Alex knew what this was. Benn’s grandmother, Nella, had called it the Twilight Terrors—the feeling of despair at the onset of twilight that came over those with any Enchantment about them. Suddenly overwhelmed, Alex let go of Benn’s hand.
The warmth of the Enchantment left Benn and he shivered with the chill of the evening, and the unwelcome knowledge that he was now visible. He looked at the space where he knew Alex was, and he could see nothing. He stretched out his arm and touched her, just to reassure himself she was still the
re, but she did not respond. Suddenly, from the clock on the roof of the falconry mews came six rapid, tinny chimes, and Benn heard heavy footsteps hurry out of the mews into the courtyard. A shout of “Dark! Dark!” was followed by an angry muttering of “Where is the darned girl?” And then another, even more irritable yell, “Dark! Dark!”
“Maybe we can hide in the mews,” Benn whispered. “I’ll check it out. Don’t move, okay?”
“Okay,” a faint reply came from the shadows.
Benn edged along the side of the mews and peered around the corner. A red-faced, square-set man in a leather jerkin was pacing up and down angrily, but behind him was an open door into the falconry mews. If they could get in without being seen, Benn thought, he and Alex could shelter in there for the night. Benn was about to hurry back to Alex when a movement in the star snicket caught his eye. He stared in amazement—the stone crocodile that had formed the step was no longer lying down, it was standing up on four short, stumpy legs—and it was certainly no longer made of stone. It glistened a smooth dark green, its eyes shining red, its fangs a brilliant white. Benn knew at once that this must be a Rocadile. He watched it begin to move, stiffly at first, as though its joints were gritty with stone dust, and then, with its nose raised, sniffing the air, the Rocadile set off in a lumbering trot toward where Benn knew Alex was standing. The red-faced man in the jerkin stopped pacing and watched the creature, seemingly not bothered by it at all. As it lumbered by, he aimed an irritable kick at it and then yelled, yet again, “Dark! Dark! Final warning, Dark!”
Benn raced back to Alex. Her Fade had gone and she looked utterly dispirited. “Rocadile!” he hissed, and in desperation, he threw himself against the door in the wall. It did not shift. Benn stood in front of Alex, hoping to somehow shield her from the oncoming Haunting. She pushed him aside. “No, Benn. Don’t be silly.”
But Benn would not move, and from behind his shoulder, Alex watched the Rocadile heading toward them on its power-packed stumpy legs. Its jaw hung slightly open, showing its long, curved teeth glistening with spit, and its brilliant red eyes with deep-blue vertical slits were focused on one thing only—Alex RavenStarr, the Enchanter’s child.
Chapter 11
Inside the Star
ZERRA WAS WANDERING ALONG THE empty street, picking the last piece of orange candy off her teeth, when she heard the six tinny chimes of the mews clock. Unwilling to get on the wrong side of Ratchet by missing Birds-In, she picked up speed. A nasty-looking metal bug on wheels came trundling toward her from a shop doorway where it had been lurking, but Zerra outran it and, guided by Ratchet’s yells, she raced down the ginnel to the door that would take her into Mews Court. Breathless, she reached up and tugged the huge lever in the wall, the door flew open, and Zerra found herself squashed against the wall, like a fly trapped between two clapping hands.
Rocketing through the door came Benn and Alex.
“Hey!” yelled Zerra.
Benn and Alex stopped and stared at Zerra, horrified. And then, in one fluid movement, Alex shoved Zerra out the door, slammed it shut and leaned against it to stop Zerra from pushing it open. A series of rapid hammerings on the door did not disturb the thick plank at all. Stunned at the rapid turnaround in their fortunes, Benn and Alex looked at one another in silence, and Alex began to giggle with relief. Soon they were both leaning against the door howling with hysterical laughter.
“You were so fast!” Benn spluttered. “Whoosh, out she went. Didn’t stand a chance.”
“Oh, that . . . was . . . fun,” Alex said, trying to catch her breath.
Suddenly a spine-chilling scream, full of dread and terror, echoed from the other side of the door. It was followed by a much deeper shout and a dull thud, like something hitting a thick wad of material.
“Sheesh! What was that?” Benn whispered.
Alex felt bad. “Zerra,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”
Benn caught hold of Alex. “You’re not going out to help her, are you?”
Alex shook her head. “We can’t do anything. Come on, let’s get out of here before they come after us.”
On the far side of the door, Ratchet was gazing down at the battered body of the Rocadile. Behind him cowered Zerra clutching a bloodied arm, her eyes wide with fear. With a satisfying craaaaack, Ratchet delivered one last blow to the Rocadile’s thick skull and then gently took Zerra by her good arm and led her into the mews, where he closed the door and swung a heavy bar across it.
A tall young woman in a scuffed leather jerkin, dusty trousers and walking boots was unloading cages of mice from a small cart. At the sound of the door being barred she swung around and eyed both Ratchet and Zerra with some disapproval. “What’s going on?” she asked Ratchet.
“New Flyer’s been bit,” Ratchet growled at the young woman. “Dratted Rocadile. Attacking just anyone now. They must have Turned, darn it.”
The young woman regarded Zerra suspiciously. “Turned? Really?”
“Really. Blasted Hauntings. They’re getting old now. They say it will happen to them all in the end. They’ll stop caring whether you’re a Beguiler or not and Turn on anyone.” Ratchet grinned. “Even you, Bartlett.”
“I think not,” Bartlett said icily as she stacked up another cage of terrified mice with a clang.
Ratchet took no notice. He guided Zerra into his office, sat her down on his chair and put the kettle on the burner. Feeling very spooked, Zerra eyed the kettle fearfully. And then, even more fearfully, she watched Ratchet reach up to the top shelf and take down a large brown bottle labeled Poison. She jumped to her feet, sending the chair rocketing out behind her on its wheels.
Ratchet spun around. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “Sit down.”
“No! I won’t. You’re not poisoning me,” Zerra declared.
Ratchet sighed. “Don’t tempt me,” he said, pulling the cork from the bottle. “However, this is iodine. For your injury. Those Rocs have filthy teeth. You don’t want the wound getting infected and then to lose your arm, do you?”
“No,” Zerra reluctantly agreed, resuming her seat. But she hated iodine. It stung so badly. “So why are you boiling the kettle?” she asked, still suspicious and twitchy.
“I thought,” Ratchet said, “that you might want a cup of cocoa. For the shock.”
Zerra watched warily as Ratchet upended the iodine bottle onto a clean rag and its yellow stain spread into the fabric.
Advancing somewhat nervously toward Zerra’s arm, Ratchet said, “Hold still now. It might sting a bit.”
“Aaargh!” Zerra yelled.
“Calm down,” Ratchet said. “Now stay still while I put the bandage on.” Surprisingly gently, Ratchet wound a clean white bandage around Zerra’s forearm and fastened it above her thumb. He surveyed his handiwork with satisfaction. “You’ll live,” he said.
Zerra sat staring at the bandage, the shock of the Rocadile’s attack beginning to sink in. If Ratchet had not come out of the mews with a massive plank in his hand and thumped the creature so hard on its tail that it had let go of her arm, she would not be sitting here right now, that was for sure. Not so long ago she had removed all the stuffing from her little brother’s favorite toy, an elephant named Peg. And now she felt just like Peg had looked—a limp rag. She slumped back in her chair and watched Ratchet set the cocoa down in front of her. With her good hand she shakily raised the mug to her lips and sipped the hot, sweet, chocolaty liquid. The taste was so beautiful that it made tears spring into her eyes. No one had ever made her anything as nice as this, Zerra thought. Although sometimes Alex had tried to—stupid Alex, whose fault this all was.
The door to the office burst open and Ratchet, who had just made himself some cocoa too, looked up warily. It was Bartlett.
“Why was she bitten by a Haunting?” she demanded.
“Told you. They’ve Turned,” Ratchet said.
“Oh yes? But it didn’t bite you, did it? Or me.”
“Because I hit it with a plank. An
d you were in here with them mice.”
“Hmm. So, what’s her name then, this new Dark?”
“Zerra.” It was Zerra who spoke. The cocoa had given her some strength back, and the pain in her arm was subsiding to a bearable throb. “It’s rude to talk about people as if they’re not here.”
Ratchet hurriedly intervened. “My fault. I haven’t introduced you. Bartlett, this is Zerra Dark, our trainee Flyer. Zerra, this is my deputy falconer, Bartlett.”
“What happened to Danny?” Bartlett asked.
“Little toad absconded. Still haven’t gotten the jacket back.”
Bartlett looked down at Zerra, her arm with its bandage, now seeping red, resting on the desk. “So, are you a Beguiler?” she asked.
Zerra returned the stare and said nothing. She wasn’t going to give Bartlett the satisfaction of an answer.
“Leave the girl be,” Ratchet said.
But Bartlett would not let Zerra be. “It doesn’t make sense. The Rocadiles never bother anyone. Danny used to throw cookies for them.”
Ratchet smiled at the memory. Danny had been fun. “I told you, they must have Turned,” he said, and pushed the cookie jar across to Zerra. “Take one. For the shock.” Zerra shook her head. She felt quite queasy.
“I’ll have one, thank you,” said Bartlett. “And a cocoa while you’re at it.”
Zerra watched Ratchet put the kettle back on the burner. All she wanted to do was lie down in the dark somewhere and forget about today. But Bartlett was barring the door, arms folded and still staring at her. “So who are your parents, girl?” she demanded.
“None of your business,” Zerra muttered.
Ratchet sat down next to Zerra. “It’s a fair question, Flyer,” he said. He frowned up at Bartlett. “Although it could be put in a more friendly fashion.”
Zerra didn’t mind telling Ratchet; he’d saved her from the Rocadile. And he’d bandaged her arm. She felt he was on her side. “Okay. So when we lived here in Rekadom, Ma sewed the king’s silk waistcoats and Pa ran dice games and lost all our money. Maybe Pa’s still here. I dunno.” She laughed. “There is no way either of them is an Enchanter.”