by Perry Aylen
Once Elya moved into Ernst’s house, the presence of the watching sheriff’s men seemed to dwindle. They appeared to have settled on a passing patrol several times a day, rather than a permanent presence. Secretly, Elya was relieved. She knew she still attracted hostile stares and discontented mutterings, but since she barely ventured outside the house, these troubled her less.
On the third day of her stay at Ernst’s house, she and Nadiya had just risen from their beds and were barely washed and dressed, when they became aware of a commotion outside in the street. Swiftly pulling on their remaining clothes, and not even pausing to brush their hair, they hurried along the passageway to the street. There they stopped and gaped in horrified astonishment. The blood drained from Elya’s already pale face, turning her lips a deathly shade of grey.
The sheriff’s men had already arrived, three of them, and there was a small group of neighbours and a few passers by. Ernst and Annet stood at the front of the crowd, and everyone was staring at the wooden frontage of the house. Across the removable boards used by Ernst to shutter his shop, in giant black letters, were painted the words, ‘The dark wizard must go!’
Chapter 32
‘As you can see,’ said Mayor Sleetfoot, panting heavily from his exertions as he, Jacob and Mayor Potts reached the summit of Mount Quayven, ‘your arrival is very timely!’
Jacob stared in disbelief at the pile of rubble in front of him. ‘When did this happen?’
‘Yesterday,’ said the mayor, obviously perplexed. ‘It just suddenly collapsed! This tower seems to have been cursed since the day you left it.’
Jacob shook his head. ‘No, it’s just not been built properly.’
Mayor Sleetfoot, nodded towards the tall, commanding figure, just rounding the ruins of the half built tower, a stocky, disgruntled man at his shoulder. ‘Be careful,’ he advised. ‘Gabriel and the foreman. As you can imagine, not best pleased. Try and be diplomatic.’
The crowd of people that had followed Jacob since he first set foot off Mayor Potts’ barge were all muttering and pointing at the broken down tower. The mayor turned round and waved his hands at them, as though he were shooing away a troublesome cat.
‘Back to your homes. There’s nothing to see here!’
Obviously the townsfolk didn’t agree. None of them moved.
Gabriel crossed the sward, bearing down on Jacob like a malevolent crow.
‘Come to gloat, have you boy?’ he demanded, stony-faced. He threw an equally cold glance at Kaya Potts. She acknowledged him with a stiff nod.
Jacob shook his head, unperturbed. ‘To help, actually.’
Gabriel fixed him with a hard stare. Jacob nodded at the tumbledown structure in front of him. ‘You seem to have some problems.’
‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ responded Gabriel, through gritted teeth.
The foreman’s scowl darkened.
Jacob beamed at him. ‘Oh, good,’ he said, brightly. ‘We’ll be on our way then.’ He turned and made to walk away, but the mayor caught his arm to stop him.
‘No, no, wait! That’s not what Gabriel meant, is it, Gabriel? He meant nothing he can’t handle with your help? Isn’t that right?’
The old wizard forced a smile that was more of a grimace. ‘If you say so, Mayor,’ he acknowledged, stiffly.
Jacob looked around at the building site, deliberately ignoring Gabriel’s frostiness. A couple of the sheriff’s men stood on apparent guard near the broken heap of stone. Tools and sacks and barrows lay abandoned on the scrubby grass, but other than the grumpy foreman there was no sign of anyone working.
‘Where are the builders?’ he asked.
‘The tower fell down on two of them,’ said the foreman, unable to hold his tongue any longer. ‘Fortunately they weren’t seriously hurt, but they might easily have been killed. Understandably, they’re not keen to come back.
The mayor tried to sound optimistic. ‘Well, now Jacob’s here to help sort it out, I’m sure we can get the project back on track.’ He recalled something, and his face brightened.
‘Look, Gabriel, I wanted to show you this.’ He reached in the capacious pocket of his roomy fur coat and fished out a wizard striker.
Gabriel looked stony-faced. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s one of those wizard strikers we heard about from Pelago. Look, if I just do this...’
Mayor Sleetfoot struck twice, energetically, at his flint. The result was gratifyingly spectacular as the bright sparks burst from his hand. The foreman leapt backwards, startled, the crowd gasped and several people exclaimed aloud. Even Gabriel flinched in alarm, and his pale blue eyes widened in surprise.
The mayor smiled happily. ‘What do you make of that, then, Gabriel?’
‘Interesting,’ said Gabriel in a neutral voice.
The foreman switched his astonished gaze from the wizard striker to Jacob.
‘We need to work out what went wrong here,’ said Jacob.
‘It was folly from the start,’ the foreman told him. ‘Everyone knows the Vajra doesn't like tall buildings. The only way to build high is to build into the rock, like with the town hall. Ask any builder. Up here, on the top of the hill, what did you expect?’
Beneath his beard, Gabriel’s mouth narrowed into a thin hard line.
The crowd straining to hear, edged closer. Although none of them really understood yet what this tower was all about, they all derived satisfaction from the imperious wizard’s misfortunes over its construction.
Jacob crossed his arms and surveyed the pile of rubble. ‘It wasn't the Vajra, it was just the wind.’
The crowd stirred and muttered again. Was that heresy?
The foreman’s scowl grew threatening. ‘Are you saying that my walls are weaker than a bark tree?’ he demanded, spoiling for a fight.
No, no,’ Jacob said hastily. ‘In fact, quite the opposite. The difference is, trees bend to let the wind pass through their leaves. Your stone walls are solid. They can’t bend.’
The foreman didn’t look convinced. ‘You’re right, they are solid. People employ me because I build strong, solid walls. So how could a mere gust of wind knock this one down?’
Sensing that he had offended the foreman’s pride, Jacob looked around for an explanation. He pointed down at the distant harbour. ‘There. See those boats? Look how the wind pushes them along so easily, and their sails aren’t nearly as big as your wall. The bigger the wall, the more wind it has to stop.’
The foreman looked down at the tiny boats. There was no denying the strength of the wind on this blustery hilltop. It whistled around their heads and stung their faces, even as they talked. He looked back at the young wizard, and some of the animosity eased from his expression.
‘So, Gabriel’s pleas to the Vajra didn’t work. Is your magic stronger?’ he asked bluntly. ‘Do you know a spell to keep this tower standing?’
Jacob tried not to look amused. ‘I’ve got some ideas that might help,’ he assured the foreman, and launched into explanations about foundations, alternate floor spanning, bracing and buttressing.
Mayor Sleetfoot turned to Mayor Potts, who was looking between Jacob and Gabriel with an amused glint in her eye. ‘It’s getting decidedly chilly out here. Shall we leave them to it?’ he suggested, looking hopeful. ‘It sounds like this tower is now in safe hands.’
Gabriel’s eye flicked coldly over Mayor Sleetfoot. His face wore its usual inscrutable expression, but Jacob was certain that, behind that stony mask, Gabriel was inwardly seething. He could see that gave Kaya Potts immense satisfaction.
With the mayors on their way back to the town hall, Jacob, Gabriel and the foreman made a critical circuit of the fallen tower, while Jacob continued his explanations. The foreman’s face had lifted. He was even talking in terms of work beginning again, almost without delay.
‘And what about the angles of these shutters we’re supposed to build on the top of the tower?’ asked the foreman, bringing up another point he had never fully understood.
‘How are we going to make certain they are in the right places? How will we know they’ll see us from Pelago and Orking Do?’
‘Let’s mark it out now,’ Jacob suggested, ‘then you’ll know what you’re doing when you get to that point. Do you have a couple of stakes we can use?’
Jacob’s forthright confidence had obviously worked its magic on the foreman. While he went to find stakes and a hammer, Jacob unfastened the bag he wore over his shoulder and pulled out a copy of the map he and Aulf had been working on. Unrolling it, he studied it intently for a few moments, glancing around him at different points on the horizon as he got his bearings.
‘Hold this,’ he ordered, pushing the map into Gabriel’s unwilling hands, and the old wizard glared at him, but did as he was told without a word. He stared venomously at the chart, his whole body stiff and offended, but Jacob ignored him, once again rummaging in his bag. He drew out a small wooden box. Inside was a wooden disc, with divisions inscribed around its circumference, and a moving needle pinned in its centre. Leaning across Gabriel’s rigid arms, Jacob checked the map again then looked down at his compass.
He could sense the anticipation of the crowd. Agog to follow his every movement since his arrival, the people of Quayven had hoped for a demonstration of real magic from this tall thin youth whose reputation had caused such a stir, and they had been rewarded with a show of wizard fire from the magic strikers. Now, he had another strange, mystical device in his hand, and an almost tangible buzz of excitement emanated from the crowd.
Jacob paused. The effect of the wizard striker on the bystanders was not lost on him. He smiled mischievously to himself. Turning towards the crowd, he held the compass reverently in the palm of his right hand, raised his left hand heavenward, his eyes to the sky, and intoned in a sonorous voice, ‘Let the magic hand point directly at Orking Do.’
The crowd had fallen silent. Every eye was on the object in Jacob’s right hand as he turned slowly several times, and then stopped, pausing for effect, before lowering his left hand to shoulder level. He addressed Gabriel and the foreman in a commanding tone. ‘There! Put the stake there.’
The foreman gaped for a moment, then gathered himself and hurried to do as Jacob instructed, hammering the stake well into the ground. Jacob waited until he had finished before taking a deep breath and once again looking down at the strange little device in his hand, as though it would obey his every instruction.
‘Let the magic hand point directly at Pelago,’ he commanded his compass, and repeated the whole performance, with the foreman scuttling to the other side of the hill to hammer in a second stake.
Gabriel watched with grudging admiration. He knew full well Jacob was putting on an act for the benefit of the crowd, but even he had to admit the performance was a convincing one. It seemed Jacob was playing him at his own game. Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, calculatingly.
With the markers positioned, Jacob rolled up his map and put the wizard hand into his bag. The foreman left after promising he and his men would be back on site the following day. The delighted crowd had broken into a hubbub of speculation and gossip about the young wizard, and what he might have been up to.
‘I’ll be back up here tonight,’ Jacob told Gabriel, ‘to light a beacon fire. We need to make sure we can be seen from Orking Do. You’ll need to do the same between Pelago and here.’
Gabriel took Jacob by the arm and drew him further from the cordon that kept the crowd away from the tower.
‘Now that we’re alone,’ he muttered, favouring Jacob with a disarming smile, ‘you can tell me the secret of the wizard strikers, and that magic needle.’ He leaned towards Jacob conspiratorially. ‘Wizard to wizard.’
Jacob gave him a sweet smile. ‘You already know it. It’s magic, of course.’
Gabriel laughed at the joke. ‘Of course, of course! But how do they really work?’
‘You said it yourself,’ Jacob reminded him. ‘Magic is so much more romantic than science.’
Gabriel’s pale, cold eyes grew harder and colder still. ‘There’s something you need to remember, Jacob,’ he warned the boy, through clenched teeth. ‘Clever you may be, but wise you are not.’
Chapter 33
‘Where’s Elya?’ asked Aulf.
Ernst and Annet looked first at each other, then back at Aulf.
‘Prison,’ returned Ernst, shrugging almost helplessly.
‘Prison!’ Jacob and Ingar echoed the word together, horror written plainly across their faces.
‘I’m sorry.’ Ernst looked embarrassed to have to explain. ‘There were some incidents. In the end, the mayor decided it would be best if she took Elya back to the town hall and put her in a prison cell. Not as a prisoner,’ he assured them hastily. ‘Not really. More for her own protection.’
Jacob’s face creased with alarm. ‘What incidents?’
Ernst cleared his throat and shook his head. ‘Some unpleasantness. People who think she’s a threat to this island.’
‘How long has she been in the prison?’ Aulf asked.
‘Two days.’ Ernst’s voice took on a little more cheer. ‘Nadiya goes to see her as soon as she gets back from school. She’s not been left all alone there. And the mayor promised she’d be well treated.’
At least the mayor had kept her promise, thought Jacob, as the jail marshal unlocked a heavy door at the far end of a dingy passageway. The room beyond was small, but, unlike most of the cells in the Orking Do prison, this one did at least have a window, albeit a tiny opening high in the wall. The bed was bare wood, but there was a thick quilt over it, in a cheerful red pattern, and on the small square table, a bowl of apples and a jug of milk, a lamp and a candle. There was even a sheepskin rug on the floor, and sitting together on the rug, Elya and Nadiya.
Jacob had half expected to find his sister traumatised by her experience, angry and in tears, so he was hugely relieved when he saw how calm she was. The girls jumped to their feet to exchange hugs and greetings.
‘I’m all right,’ she assured them, as they fussed over her. ‘The mayor was right. It was better for me to come here. I didn’t want Nadiya’s family to have any more trouble. Still, I’m glad you’re back,’ she confessed, with a sigh of relief. ‘There may be some extra comforts here, but it’s still a prison cell.’
Ingar was already feeling claustrophobic in the gloomy enclosed stone space. She had spent a few nights herself, in cells similar to this one. ‘Well, you don’t have to stay here any longer.’
‘The mayor’s on her way down,’ Jacob said. ‘The guard outside had orders to fetch her when we arrived.’
Elya turned to Nadiya. ‘I’ll miss you.’
Nadiya nodded. ‘I’ll miss you too. But, once those towers are up and running, people will change their minds about you, wait and see.’
Elya smiled gratefully, but they could all tell she wasn’t convinced. She looked round at Jacob, Ingar and Aulf. ‘Nadiya’s code training school is all ready to go. All she needs are her first students.’
Aulf grinned. ‘You’re going to be busy.’
Nadiya smiled. ‘I hope so. I can’t wait to try out the signalling for real. How long do you think it will take to get the towers working?’
‘That depends.’ Jacob looked thoughtful. ‘We now have to find a point between here and Quayven to build a link tower. Noah and Tomas have promised they’ll light a fire up on Mount Quayven every night for as long as it takes, until they spot an answering one from us.’ He face lit up and he grinned at his sister. ‘And they’re going to sell the wizard strikers for us on Quayven too. They were very excited about that. I promised them a good commission, and gave them more boat parts.’
They heard the mayor’s unmistakable voice out in the passageway.
‘My apologies to you all,’ she said, as she entered the crowded little cell. ‘Things didn’t work out as I’d planned. I had hoped the people of Orking Do would prove to be more enlightened than the people of Quayven, but it seems I expected too much.
’ To Jacob, she said, ‘I know you were quite particular that the tower building project would only go ahead if the pair of you could work on it together. I’ve done my best to keep your sister safe and comfortable, but I feel I’ve failed. I’ve already ordered all the building materials you put on your list, and I’ve lined up the best builders on Orking Do to be at your disposal, in the hope that you may still be persuaded that the greater interests of Hexult make this project worth pursuing.’ She waited earnestly for his answer.
Jacob and Elya exchanged a look. Jacob turned back to the mayor. ‘I think everyone’s agreed that we’re going to see this project through.’ He saw the instant relief soften her formidable exterior, and a slow impish smile spread across his face. ‘After all, we can’t let Gabriel beat us, can we?’
Chapter 34
Leaving Orking Do, Aulf sailed for the first time using the chart and the lodestone rather than his own dead reckoning. Barley was near the crevasse, just around the tip of one of the thin fissures at its end, so, having rounded the side of Orking Do and set off across the clear ice, they all kept a close look out ahead to avoid sailing over the edge of an unexpected chasm. The sun bounced off the ice in front of them, dazzling in its brightness, and wisps of ice mist refracted the glare and caused several false alarms as their imaginations turned a tendril of mist, into the edge of the Vajra.
Eerily, the wisps of mist began to thicken. They sailed in and out of a low veil of cloud that crept over the edge of the boat, obscuring the outriggers from view. Aulf lowered the Aurora’s sail to slow her almost to a walking pace. He was agitated, more nervous than any of them had seen him before, and posted them each to a separate position on the boat, to watch for cracks in the ice, Ingar to the prow and Jacob and Elya to either side. The mist continued to swell and subside, swirling in eddies of wind, like writhing ghosts, swallowing the ice waste below them one moment and dissipating the next.