by Toby Forward
“She really needs to know everything,” said Flaxfold. “We don’t know what’s important and what isn’t.”
“Do I have to tell her?”
“If you like. Or I can tell her. Or no one tells her. She can take a message to Canterstock and bring Flaxfield back and I can tell him and he can go back again. That will take a lot of time.”
Bee stood up.
“You tell her,” she said. “I don’t want to tell it again.”
“Help me up,” said Flaxfold. She took Bee’s hand and stood. Bending, she picked up a stone. She drew back her arm, flicked, and the stone skimmed across the surface of the water, two, three, four bounces.
Up Top or the Deep World?
Deep World or Up Top?
Not many people had the choice.
Perry watched the Palace as night and day replaced each other three times.
He watched the last of the beetles march in. He saw lights burn in turret windows far into the night. He heard no screams after the first attack.
Twice he stood up to leave. Twice he sat down again and watched and waited.
One person might escape.
One person might have hidden and survived.
One person might emerge and say what was happening in there.
He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to him that the building itself was changing. The tall, slender towers were thickening and shortening. The graceful walls were growing thuggish and brutal.
It wasn’t possible and he didn’t believe it. He didn’t see any change happen. He had helped his father in the garden, and he knew that you never saw a plant grow, but that if you looked at a row of beans after three days they were very different, so, after three days the building he saw was not the palace the beetle army had gone into.
And the beetles themselves. They made forays into the area outside.
Where they had all looked much the same when they went in, now there were a hundred different varieties. Some as small as a cockroach. Some as big as a fist. Some the size of a dog. And the biggest could have overpowered a donkey.
And the shapes. Some grew horns and mandibles. Their legs were angular and sharp. Some were squeezed into balls like bed bugs. Some jumped like fleas. Some stabbed. Some stung. Some whistled. Some clattered.
Rabbits and pigeons learned not to come near. The beetles were fast and deadly
The worse of them all, the most cruel and quick, made a clattering noise. Takkabakk, takkabakk, takkabakk.
Even after it was clear that no one was going to come out alive Perry stayed and learned all he could, to report back.
It was only after the takkabakk ones began to venture further from the walls and to climb the hill in his direction that he decided it was time to leave.
Perry got clear of the palace and kept going.
Sometimes he could see three entrances to the Deep World all at the same time. Sometimes he went for over a couple of miles without seeing one, but he knew that if he stopped to look they were there.
There had been one just behind the strange boy who wasn’t a boy. Perry could see an escape all the time. The only trouble was he couldn’t have taken it because the not-boy was in the way.
He could hear his father’s voice telling him off for not going home. He could hear his father telling him that Cabbage had left him to die, he should forget about Cabbage. Perry knew better. Perry knew that Cabbage had gone towards even greater danger.
Up Top or the Deep World?
Deep World or Up Top?
He stood at a door to the Deep World.
He was tired. He was hungry. He was lonely. He was still frightened by what he had seen of the beetles and the not-boy and the two figures who came with the beetles. He was homesick. All of these called him back to the Deep World.
On the other hand, he had never had a real friend before. He wanted to see if Cabbage had survived. He had started a job with Flaxfield and Cabbage and he wanted to see it through. He wanted to prove to his father that he was good enough. Running home would be a failure.
Up Top or the Deep World?
Deep World or Up Top?
He could go to the Deep World, just for a little while. Eat, rest, come back and carry on.
He hesitated at the entrance. It was a stone gatepost in a dry-stone wall. Perry rubbed his hand on the sun-warm lichen. He put his cheek against the stone, feeling the roughness of the sawed edge.
Maybe just a short visit. He could come back tomorrow.
He heard the horse approach long before he saw it. He moved to the side of the gatepost, hidden from the road, ready to step down into the Deep World. Beetles, shadowy figures, not-boys, Up Top was a more dangerous place than he had expected. Who knew what a horse could bring riding on its back.
One foot Up Top, one foot in the Deep World, he waited and looked up the road to see what thing was riding towards him.
“We’re getting nowhere,” said Flaxfield.
He stood up and stretched.
“Cabbage,” he said.
The boy looked up from his book.
“Do something,” said Flaxfield. “Throw me some magic.”
Cabbage grinned at the joke.
“No, I mean it. Throw me something. Anything.”
Cabbage wondered what sort of test this was. He had experimented with magic since the storm, just to see if it worked. Sometimes it went wrong. The book and the vision of Boolat had been some sort of failure. Most of the time it worked perfectly. That still didn’t make it right to do what Flaxfield was asking now.
“I don’t work magic just for fun,” said Cabbage. “I need to have a good reason. Otherwise it sets off a chain that can lead to trouble. Magic makes magic.”
Flaxfield stood on his chair and shouted at Cabbage.
“Throw me some magic, boy. Now. Anything you like.”
Cabbage looked at Melwood and Jackbones for support.
Melwood was troubled. She lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug. Jackbones grinned at him.
They were no help.
“All right,” said Flaxfield, climbing down again. “It’s not a game, is it? It’s a practical test. Just throw me something.”
Melwood spoke up, in a quiet, reasonable voice. The one she used when naughty pupils were sent to her.
“Why don’t you tell us what you want?” she said. “Then we’ll understand what to do? You can’t spend six years teaching Cabbage not to use magic wastefully and then forget all his training and play games with it.”
“All right,” he grumbled. “I suppose so.”
He paced up and down as he explained.
“We’ve spent what, three, four days, I can’t remember what, looking everywhere to find an explanation for what happened, and to put it right.” He stood still and pointed around him at the layers and layers of books, rising up out of sight. “And I have to tell you that I don’t think there’s a single thing about magic in the whole of this library that I don’t already know about magic.”
He looked splendid now, standing in command of all this, and Cabbage felt a sense of pride that Flaxfield was his master. At the same time he had an unshakable belief that the wizard would regain his powers. He smiled at him.
“Oh,” said Jackbones, “so you know everything there is to know about it, do you? There’s nothing these books can teach you?”
Flaxfield waited for the effect of this teasing to ebb away. He stood in silence until even Jackbones felt he might have gone too far.
“There will be incidents here I know nothing about,” said Flaxfield. “There will be people I’ve never heard of, things that have happened, accidents and triumphs and failures and tragedies. They may set up a trail we can follow that will lead us to an answer. But there is nothing,” he paused, “nothing,” he said again, “about magic itself that I do not know.”
He gave Melwood an apologetic look before saying, “I’m not one of your college wizards. I’m Flaxfield.”
Jackbones snorted.
Cabbage went co
ld and his skin tingled.
Melwood nodded generous agreement.
“So why don’t we give the books a rest for a while and try something practical? Let Cabbage throw some magic at me. Remember what he said? Magic makes magic. It’s worth a try.”
“All right,” said Melwood. “Nothing dangerous,” she warned Cabbage.
“What shall I do?” he asked.
“Throw a wet sponge at him,” said Jackbones. “That should teach him to have more respect for my books.”
“Perhaps if you showered him with rose petals it might cheer him up,” said Melwood with wink.
“I can make him invisible,” said Cabbage. I’ve been working on that.”
“Invisible and inaudible,” said Jackbones.
Flaxfield snapped his fingers.
“Invisible will do very well,” he said.
“What will you do?” asked Cabbage.
“I’ll make myself visible again,” said Flaxfield. “Magic makes magic.”
Cabbage stood up and faced Flaxfield. Melwood and Jackbones stopped talking and watched intently. Cabbage called to mind the spell and the way to do it. It was a strong spell and would take a great effort. He could have chosen something much easier, less of a strain, but he wanted to impress Jackbones and Melwood. As he began the working there was a rush of air, channelled down from the higher galleries. It carried a sound as of thousands and thousands of pages rustling. Cabbage looked up. Although the galleries were empty he felt as though thousands of eyes were watching him.
His lips moved. He raised his hands and turned the flat of the palms towards Flaxfield. He felt the floor move to one side then settle. It shook him and made him stumble forward. Melwood put out a hand to steady him. He felt a shock at the subtle power of her touch. She had more magic than he had thought.
When his head cleared and he could see again, there was no one where Flaxfield had been standing. Either the wizard had walked away while Cabbage was unsettled by the spell, or the magic had gone wrong and Flaxfield wasn’t there any longer. Or it had worked, and he was invisible.
If he was invisible it was time for Flaxfield to undo the spell and appear again.
The three of them looked at each other for guidance. Jackbones had just opened his mouth to make a suggestion when there was a knock at the door.
“They mustn’t come in,” said Melwood. She moved quickly to the door to lock it. Before her hand could reach the key the handle turned and the door began to open.”
“Wait there,” she commanded.
The door stopped moving.
“Who is it?” she said.
An enormous hand came round the door and waved.
“It’s Spendrill,” said Jackbones.
“You can’t come in,” said Melwood. “We’re busy. I’ll come and see you later.”
“There’s a visitor,” he called. “Says it’s urgent. Got to see Flaxfield straight away.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, and the danger, Cabbage couldn’t stop himself giggling. Whoever it was, they certainly couldn’t see Flaxfield now.
“Let them in,” said Flaxfield.
Cabbage breathed a relaxing sigh. At least Flaxfield hadn’t been vanished. He was still there. It just looked as though his idea hadn’t worked.
Spendrill opened the door, stepped aside and Dorwin came past him into the library. She saw Cabbage, ran to him and hugged him.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said.
Melwood coughed and Cabbage was surprised to see that she looked a little annoyed at Dorwin. He introduced them and then Jackbones came and shook Dorwin’s hand.
“This is very unusual,” he said.
“Oh?” said Dorwin.
“Only members of the college and other wizards are allowed in the library. I think you are the first.”
Cabbage began to apologize for her.
“Dorwin’s been very helpful,” he said. “She was with me when we found Bee.”
Dorwin stepped in. She was in no mood to need an apology.
“I have important information,” she said. “I rode all night. Did you want me to wait outside the gates like a tinker?”
“You’re welcome,” said Melwood recovering her poise. “It is our honour that you come into the library.”
Dorwin calmed down.
“Thank you,” she said. “I suppose you want my friend to wait outside, though?”
Spendrill put a huge hand behind him and ushered Perry through the door.
“Oh, a roffle,” said Jackbones. “No, that’s all right. Roffles have been here before. They’re not people after all, are they?
Cabbage didn’t know where to look, he was so ashamed that he had left Perry alone. He was so pleased to see him. He was so embarrassed at letting him down. He was so excited at seeing him again. He was afraid that Perry would be angry.
“You must be tired,” said Melwood. “Let me arrange a room for you and some food.”
“I’m fine,” said Dorwin. “Later. Thank you. I have to deliver my message. It’s urgent.”
“Please arrange that,” said Melwood to Spendrill. He nodded, waved a hand and left.
While they were talking the boys faced each other.
“Hello,” said Perry.
“Hello,” said Cabbage.
“You’ll never believe what I’ve seen,” said Perry. He came close to Cabbage. “Are you all right?”
Cabbage nodded.
“Sorry you got lost,” said Perry.
“Sorry I left you there.”
“What else could you do?”
“Will you all stop speaking at once and let me know what’s happened?” said Flaxfield.
Dorwin looked startled.
“Flaxfield?” she said. “Where is he?” she asked Melwood.
“It’s a long story,” said Jackbones.
“So is mine.”
“Mine, too,” said Perry.
Cabbage looked hopeful.
“Shall we listen to them while we have lunch?” he said.
Perry whispered to Cabbage. “And will he finish the story for me?”
“Story?”
“About the mirror and the magic?”
“Cabbage,” shouted Flaxfield. “Get me back to normal.”
Jackbones grinned. |
Ash found the highest point in the building,
a tower with a view of the countryside that stretched beyond sight.
“This is for me,” she said.
Smedge moved from one foot to another. His balance was getting better and he was walking almost like a real person.
“You’ll have to stop leaving that trail everywhere,” said Ash.
Smedge looked at the glistening slime where he had trodden.
“It’s nice,” he said.
He was getting used to speaking as well. If only he’d had time to practise before he went over to the boy he could have kept him off guard long enough to bite off his face.
“It stinks. It’s slime. It’s got to stop,” said Ash.
Bakkmann clattered a harsh laugh.
“It hurts when I walk if I don’t make the slippy,” said Smedge.
“If you can’t stop doing it I’ll burn your feet off,” said Ash. “That will hurt more.”
She put her hand on his face and stroked him.
“My own little Smedge,” she said. “I made you. When I remade myself I made you as well, didn’t I?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps the girl made me.”
Ash slapped him. His face burst into flame. He fell to the floor, screaming.
“Oh, stop it,” she said. She kicked his head. The fire went out. “Stand up.”
Bakkmann laughed again.
“Stand up,” he clattered.
The left side of Smedge’s face was burned away. His jaw bone and eye sockets were revealed, and the eye had puckered and shrivelled in the heat.
“Put it right,” said Ash. “I can’t look at that all day.”
> Smedge closed his good eye and remembered what things he had eaten. His face rebuilt itself, flesh covering the bone. His wasted side didn’t match the other side. His face was half-weasel, with ginger fur. He liked it. He liked weasel.
Ash slapped him again.
“No. Properly. I’ve got jobs for you. You’d better learn how to look normal.”
Smedge made his face all boy. He was getting better at it.
Ash looked out of the window. The light didn’t pass through her any more. She was solid. Slim and tall, with a flowing grey dress.
“We’ll stay here until we’re stronger,” she said. “I can already feel that I’ve got such power, and it isn’t finished yet.”
“Just us and the takkabakks?” said Smedge.
“We’ll send them out for food,” said Ash. “And they can fetch some servants for us. We’ll need looking after. What’s the point of living in a palace without servants?”
Bakkmann crackled out a question.
“Then what?”
“Ah,” she said. “Then we can really enjoy ourselves. There are some old scores to settle. Flaxfield for a start.”
She glowed white hot when she said his name.
“That old fool thinks he’s so strong. He behaves as though magic was his own personal property. As though the rest of us weren’t good enough. I’d like to put that to the test now.”
She leaned out of the window and sent a torrent of fire streaming down the side of the tower. It splashed on the ground and poured out into a lake of flame.
“It’s so easy,” she said. “There’s so much. I’m so new.”
She wheeled round and laughed at them.
“I’m a new thing altogether,” she said. “I’m the birth of new magic. I can do anything.”
Bakkmann jumped up and down, beetle legs buckling and straightening.
“And I shall,” she said. “I’ll do everything I want. I’ll do things I don’t even know I want yet. And the first thing I want to do is get Flaxfield here and destroy him.”
Smedge licked his lips, Green drool dripped from the sides of his mouth.
“Go on,” said Ash. “Get out, both of you. Find yourselves somewhere to settle in. Bakkmann. You can take the kitchen. Smedge, I don’t care where you go. Just go.”
Perry and Cabbage sat together at lunch and whispered too much and prodded each other too often and giggled too noisily for the others. Melwood stopped Jackbones from giving them a telling-off.