by V M Jones
There was a brief knock on the door and Usherwood marched in, closely followed by the lumbering figure of Shaw. ‘Amazing what a few canapés can do to smooth ruffled feathers,’ she remarked smugly. ‘I’ve rescheduled the shoot for the same time next week, Q, and I strongly recommend …’ She looked from Q to me; from me to each of the others in turn. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
The two listened in silence as Q briefly explained. ‘So you see, Usherwood,’ he finished, ‘the children have to go back to Karazan — it’s our only hope. I suppose Adam will need your permission, come to think of it …’
‘An’ I don’t think yer should give it!’ growled Shaw unexpectedly. ‘This story about some Zephyr bloke sounds like a load o’ cobblers ter me — ’oo’s ter say he exists at all? An’ that computer message — chances are it’s just some crazy virus, sent ter put the wind up yer, Q! You’re sendin’ these kids on a wild goose chase. I say wait an’ see wot ’appens — and keep the kids ’ere, where they’re safe.’
‘Sorry, Shaw — the decision’s made,’ grinned Rich. ‘During the time we’re here, Q’s in … in …’
‘In loco parentis,’ supplied Jamie.
‘Yeah, that: he’s in charge, like my dad said. But thanks for your opinion, anyway!’
I looked across the room at Usherwood. There was an odd look on her face … and suddenly I had a sickening premonition that she wasn’t going to let me go. ‘Ms Usherwood … V-V-V-’ I gulped, and somehow got it out, in a desperate rush: ‘Veronica — please — they can’t go without me!’ I knew it was true: it had to be the five of us, like before. ‘Please, please let me go!’
Her lips tightened. She stared at me for a long moment, her expression impossible to read. Then: ‘Very well, Adam. You may go with the others — but I hold you to your promise to return at once if and when you accomplish your task.’ There was a sudden glimmer of something deep in her eyes. ‘And … be careful.’
‘Yeah — an’ bring back ol’ Zephyr to show me if yer find ’im!’ grumbled Shaw. He obviously still didn’t believe a word of it.
Struggling into my travel-worn jerkin and breeches — tighter than last time I’d worn them, laundered by Nanny, but still holding the faintest hint of the wild, spicy fragrance of Karazan — I found myself thinking back to the other times I’d put them on. The first time, heading off on a quest into the unknown in a desperate attempt to save Hannah’s life. The second time: heading back to a world we knew, to rescue her from the clutches of evil King Karazeel.
Now this, the third time … and by far the most vital mission of all.
The others knew it too. Even though Q was fussing about like he always had before, warning us to take care of this and remember that, I could see the aloneness I felt reflected in their tense faces.
The game world of Karazan was Q’s, but we’d become in some strange way part of the real one. Its destiny was linked with ours. We were just five kids … but the weight of the world rested on our shoulders.
At last we were ready. This time, we wouldn’t be leaving from the computer room, with its swivel chairs and tidy tables with the peppermints and jugs of water at each place. Instead, we stood in a solemn circle in the library in front of the fire, hands linked. I had my brand-new microcomputer at the ready.
A sense of urgency gnawed at the edges of my mind. We had no time to waste. Richard’s hand gripped my arm. I glanced round at the others, then positioned my fingers over the tiny keys.
Alt … Control … Q.
As I pressed them, a thought flashed into my mind:
If we don’t succeed, will there be a world for us to come back to?
A starting point
I opened my eyes to total darkness. For a heart-stopping moment I thought something had gone horribly wrong — that Karazeel had somehow managed to corrupt the VRE interface so we’d be trapped in nowhere forever.
Beside me I heard a soft whimper, and groped blindly till I felt a cold hand. It gripped mine so tight it hurt. ‘Gen?’
‘Where are we?’ Her voice sounded close to panic.
‘In Karazan, of course!’ I wondered if Rich felt as sure as he sounded.
‘Why it is so dark?’ quavered Jamie.
His question was answered by a distant flash of lightning that lit the undersides of the bulging clouds with an eerie purple glow. It was followed a few seconds later by a deep growl of thunder that rolled through the sky like a kettledrum.
‘Oh, great,’ groaned Jamie. ‘The middle of the night, and a thunderstorm on the way! Why isn’t time in Karazan the same as at home? Why —’
‘Quit grouching, Jamie.’ I could hear the grin in Richard’s voice. ‘Things could be a lot worse. At least we are in Karazan, not stuck in the middle of nowhere like I thought — and by the feel of it, it’s summer. We may get a bit wet, but at least we won’t freeze!’
From our vantage point at the foot of the cliffs we could see the storm playing out like a gigantic firework display over the sea. There was a steady breeze in my face, carrying with it an electric whiff of cordite mingled with the tang of salt and the fresh scent of rain. ‘We’re in for a real humdinger, by the feel of it,’ I muttered. ‘Let’s head down into the forest — try to find the clearing we camped in before, and hole up till first light. We could rig a tarpaulin for shelter, and —’
‘And put together a plan of action,’ interrupted Gen. She was right — we’d left Quested Court with no idea at all of where we were headed, or what to do once we were in Karazan.
‘The forest looks awful dark,’ quavered Jamie. ‘And in the game, there are things …’
‘Yeah,’ said Rich bracingly, ‘but shrags are scared of light, and we’ve all got torches. Come on, Jamie — don’t be a wimp! Next thing you’ll be suggesting we go back to Quested Court and wait by the fire till the storm’s over!’
‘Well …’
‘Richard’s right — we don’t have a choice, Jamie,’ said Kenta. ‘If we stay here in the open we’ll get drenched — and what if the cliff attracts lightning?’ As if to demonstrate, a ferocious fork zigzagged from the clouds, striking the distant sea with a sizzle we could almost hear.
‘My dad says if there’s a storm on the golf course, the last place you should shelter is under a tree,’ Jamie muttered; but his words were drowned by an ear-splitting crack of thunder, and drops of rain began to spatter down all round us like water-bombs. There was no more argument — we made a dash for the trees, digging for our torches as we ran.
Moments later we were deep in the forest, hurrying downhill as swiftly and silently as we could. The faint beams of torchlight were nothing like as comforting as Argos’ burning brand had been, but it was the best we could do. I kept half an eye open for a glimmer of light from Argos and Ronel’s cottage, which I felt sure was over to my left, hidden among the trees … but deep down I knew I’d see nothing, and I was right.
The walk seemed to take forever, but at last we were slithering down the steep bank into the familiar grassy clearing. It seemed a different place from the last time we’d been there: the drumming rain had turned the waterfall into a rushing torrent, and the pool had swollen to almost twice the size I remembered. ‘We’d better make a bivouac on the higher ground,’ Richard shouted above the roar of the rain on the forest canopy way above us. ‘Who’s to say how far that water might rise — and the last thing we need is for all our gear to be washed away!’
For once no one argued. Rich and I found a long, straight branch, and wedged one end firmly into a cleft in a tree trunk at the edge of the clearing. The others hurried back and forth collecting fallen branches and propping them on either side to make a rough frame the shape of an upside-down V. ‘I wish Q had thought to give us proper tents,’ panted Jamie.
‘This’ll do just as well,’ said Rich, producing the lightweight plastic tarp from his pack and unfolding it. His curly blond hair was plastered to his head, but nothing could dampen his grin.
Together we
spread the cover over our makeshift tent, weighting the edges down with logs. Jamie and the girls didn’t need telling: they scampered in and hunkered down as far from the opening as possible, Rich and me right behind them, dragging the packs after us out of the rain.
We huddled together, staring out with wide eyes. The towering trunks of the trees loomed in the blinding afterimage of the lightning, and the rain lashed the pool into a hissing cauldron. But we were warm, and the scent of fresh rain and damp, mossy vegetation mingled comfortingly with the more everyday smells of damp clothes and hot feet.
‘Anyone for a chocolate bar?’ asked Jamie hopefully.
‘OK, everybody,’ said Gen through a mouthful of chocolate, ‘what next? We need to hold a council of war. This rain won’t last forever, and once it stops and morning comes, we have to start our search. The only problem we have is …’
‘We don’t have a clue where to look,’ finished Richard cheerfully.
‘Nor do we have any real idea who we’re looking for,’ said Kenta. ‘It’s not as if we had … I don’t know … a photograph, or even a description. How will we recognise Prince Zephyr if we do find him?’
Gloomily, I realised they were right. We’d set off with a hiss and a roar and all the good intentions in the world. The fact was, we were looking for a needle in a haystack … a needle we weren’t even sure existed.
‘Not much point concentrating on what we don’t know,’ I said, licking melted chocolate off my fingers and trying to sound upbeat. ‘Let’s go over everything we do know — everything anyone’s ever told us about the legend of Prince Zephyr. Come on, Jamie — you’re the one with the almost-photographic memory!’
The dark shape that was Jamie swelled importantly. ‘Right: let’s start with the basics. His name was — is, hopefully — Zephyr … and he’s also called the Prince of the Wind.’
‘And the True King,’ murmured Gen.
‘Hob said Prince Zephyr was born to Queen Zaronel,’ I said slowly. ‘I guess that means Queen Zaronel was his mother, and King Zane —’
‘— Good King Zane —’
‘— was his father.’
‘But he died,’ said Gen. ‘What did Kai say? That King Zane lay on his deathbed at that ruined old palace in Arakesh, and when he died, Queen Zaronel’s heart tore asunder.’
‘Yeah — and even old Karazeel went crazy with grief, and ordered the entire place to be smashed up,’ said Jamie perkily. ‘Though the grief bit doesn’t sound very likely to me — from what we saw of him, at any rate.’
‘But let’s get back to Zephyr — he’s the important part!’ chipped in Kenta. ‘Hob said he was born … what was it? … half a hundred spans ago. A span is a year, so —’
‘So that makes him about fifty. More a king than a prince, I’d say,’ said Rich.
‘I suppose that’s the point,’ said Gen thoughtfully. ‘He’s been — what d’you call it? — in exile, all this time. And now —’
‘Now he’s destined to return — a warrior prince, riding tall and proud on a winged horse. And on the day he does, he’ll be crowned King of Karazan!’ finished Jamie with a flourish.
‘Way to go, Jamie,’ grinned Rich. ‘Karazeel will be overthrown, and our world will be safe again … and we’ll never know how it all happened, because we promised to head home just when the fun was about to begin.’
Jamie gave a gusty sigh. ‘To be honest, all that stuff about winged horses sounds a lot like legend to me. We haven’t clapped eyes on a single horse in all the time we’ve been in Karazan — and I’m talking ordinary horses, never mind ones with wings.’
‘Even if the legend’s true, we can’t wait for him to come riding along in his own sweet time,’ Rich pointed out. ‘He needs a not-so-gentle nudge, he needs it fast …’
‘… and he needs it from us,’ finished Jamie gloomily. There was a long silence, broken only by the steady drip-drip-drip of the rain.
‘If only we had a tiny clue — just some idea of where to start our search!’ said Kenta at last. ‘Oh, how I wish we’d thought to ask Kai or Hob more about how Zephyr disappeared, and when, and where he might have gone! And if only we’d listened more carefully to what they did say!’
‘They did say one other thing,’ I said slowly, remembering. ‘Something maybe we could use as a starting point. We know where he was born: at the Summer Palace in Arakesh. Kai said … what was it?’ I frowned, Kai’s long-ago words hovering on the fringes of my memory like ghosts. As I spoke, they came back into my mind with uncanny clarity, as if Kai himself was standing right beside me. ‘Within these walls was born a legend that lives on in tales told by firelight, when voices are low and doors are barred, and dreams stir again in men’s hearts.’
As I said the words, a strange thrill ran through me. For a moment I felt a surge of hope: there was a chance we would manage to find Zephyr … and when we did, that long-ago baby would have grown into a man, wise and powerful enough to return Karazan to its old glory, and vanquish the threat hanging over our own world.
To open the gate …
We woke before sunrise, damp and bedraggled. After a hurried breakfast, we made our way to the edge of the forest where the city of Arakesh lay spread out before us in the misty light of pre-dawn. The gates were closed, the cobbled road leading to them silent and deserted. We skirted the walls, keeping to the shelter of the trees, and soon reached the straggly cluster of bushes that concealed Kai’s secret entrance. As we wiggled our way into the tunnel and under the city wall, we heard the distant sound of the gong signalling daybreak and the opening of the gates. With a shudder, I remembered the last time I’d heard that sound, in free fall between two worlds … I gave myself a mental shake, and crept on.
One by one the others emerged from the haystack, indistinct shapes in the near-darkness. The stable was still shut up tight, the only light — and the only fresh air — coming from a narrow window set high in the stone wall. The glonks had been in all night, and the stink caught in my throat and made my eyes sting.
We’d tried our best to be quiet, but the bunny ears of the glonks weren’t fooled for a moment — and they were expecting breakfast. Our arrival was greeted by a chorus of excited whoofles and burps, farts going off all round us like firecrackers. Rich’s dark bulk beside me made a retching sound, and when he spoke his voice was muffled by his cloak, which, like me, he was holding over his nose and mouth. ‘Hope the door isn’t locked — I won’t last more than a couple of seconds in here!’
But luck was on our side, and the heavy door swung open easily to my gentle shove. A wary eye to the gap showed the courtyard of the inn still deserted, though a couple of the windows backing onto the yard were lit with soft golden lamplight. ‘Cooking breakfast, I’ll bet,’ whispered Jamie enviously. ‘Bacon and eggs — what wouldn’t I give …’
‘Shhhh! Let’s get a move on while the coast’s clear!’ Heart thumping, I led the way to the arched gate leading out to the lane, lifted the heavy latch and edged it open. It gave a heart-stopping creak, but we were through. Snicking it shut behind us, I followed the others to the mouth of a dark alleyway, where we wiped the smudges of mud from each other’s faces as best we could, and picked the bits of straw from our hair.
‘Well,’ said Rich with a grin, ‘we’re not exactly clean, but I guess we’ll have to do. Let’s get moving!’
‘Yes, but which way?’ asked Jamie unhappily. ‘Last time we had Kai to lead us — I was busy eating my roll and just tagged along behind.’
It was true — none of us had dreamed we’d ever need to find our way back to the palace. Peering out cautiously, I tried to get my bearings. The flaking red and gold sign of the Brewer’s Butt was across the narrow lane, the buff-coloured city wall looming behind it. That must be north …
Piecing together the few bits and pieces I could dredge up from the depths of my memory, I squatted down and sketched a rough map, using a straw I’d found behind Gen’s ear. ‘The first time we came, we used the main
gate — the one to the east. There were those three streets branching off from the gate like a trident, remember? We took the left-hand fork — the southern one, I guess — leading to the village green where we met Kai.’
‘The middle one would have taken us straight to the Temple, I’ll bet,’ said Jamie.
‘Yeah,’ chipped in Rich, ‘and the right fork would have led through the older part of the city towards Kai’s inn …’
‘And almost directly past the Summer Palace!’ squawked Gen triumphantly.
‘Come on then, guys — what are we waiting for?’ said Rich.
We tramped off down the narrow lane, our hoods pulled well over our faces. The few people we passed hurried about their business, guarded and wary, avoiding our eyes. In our drab, travel-stained clothes we blended in well enough to be almost invisible, I realised with relief — and the Tyrotemp the others had darkened their faces with back at Quested Court completed the camouflage.
Soon the streets began to widen and the higgledy-piggledy houses gave way to larger, more impressive homes. But as we walked on I noticed more and more cracked tiles and crumbling walls; straggly greyish weeds grew up through the cobblestones, and here and there buildings had been partly demolished, jagged stubs of foundation jutting from the ground like rotten teeth.
Glancing up, I saw that tattered grey clouds were gathering, and soon a light drizzle began to fall.
We rounded a corner, and the tall, unbroken wall of the palace stretched ahead. Last time we’d been here, with Kai, all our thoughts had been for Hannah, the Temple and the magical potions, and we’d barely spared it a glance. Now, walking in its shadow, my mind was focused on what — if anything — we’d find inside.
At last we reached the gate. It was a pedestrian entrance set deep into the wall, wide enough for two people to walk through side by side and as tall as a man. The wall continued almost as high again above its arched top. Peering through, we could see a bare courtyard with a broken fountain in the centre, surrounded by covered walkways.