Fireborn

by Toby Forward

  “He won’t have forgotten that,” said Melwood.

  “No. He doesn’t forget. Anyway, I kept an eye on him for a while, to make sure he’d learned his lesson. He seemed to. And his power was even less then. He could only work harmless little spells, small acts of spite. I left him to fade away.”

  “But he found Bee,” said Melwood.

  “He found Bee,” agreed Flaxfield. “And he tricked her parents and stole her from them.”

  Cabbage searched his notebook, listening with half an ear.

  “He’s kept a wall of silence around her,” said Flaxfield. “He’s hidden her very well. We had no idea what was happening. And the worse thing is that she’s very powerful.”

  “What’s he done?” asked Melwood.

  “He’s made a new order of magic,” said Flaxfield. “By switching names he’s upset the reflected order. There will be changes. That’s what the wild magic was. It felt the change coming. It boiled up all around him and when the indenture was signed it was ready. From now on magic will be more dangerous than ever. We’ve always been careful with it, always tried to use it sparingly. From now, every act of magic will have a possible reflection. It’s why we kept getting hurt when we used it. Magic is biting back.”

  Melwood asked the question that everyone was thinking.

  “What about you, Flaxfield?” she said. “What happened to your magic? Was it sucked out of you?”

  “That’s what we have to find out,” he said. “And Dorwin has brought us a chance to do something. We can make a start with the names. If we know what Slowin’s real name is we can get some power back. I’m convinced now that he survived the storm, and he’s dangerous. We need to beat him. Now, Dorwin, continue. What names did they exchange.”

  They all looked at Dorwin, ready for the one thing that could help.

  “That’s just it,” she said. “Bee can’t remember.”

  “What?”

  Cabbage could hear the disappointment in Flaxfield’s voice.

  “She remembers going into the tower and meeting Slowin. She remembers refusing to sign. She remembers being persuaded. She remembers picking up the pen and writing. Everything else is as though the tide had washed the sand clear. She remembers nothing.”

  “Then we’re beaten,” said Flaxfield. |

  Jackbones spoke for the first time

  since Dorwin had begun her tale.

  “Don’t be so weak,” he said.

  Flaxfield kept his voice under control. “We are weak,” he said. Slowin has grabbed magic to himself and he’s on top. If we knew the names we might have a chance. Without them, there’s nothing we can do.”

  “Got it,” said Cabbage.

  He stood up with his notebook open in one hand. “I knew it was in there,” he said. “It’s so simple. How could I have forgotten?”

  “Can you do it?” Flaxfield called.

  “I think so.”

  “Come on then.”

  Cabbage backed away from the table.

  Perry spoke to Jackbones in a low voice. “I don’t understand why Flaxfield couldn’t just tell Cabbage how to reverse the spell. I thought he was the master.”

  Jackbones shook his head.

  “There are different spells for the same thing. This one is Cabbage’s own recipe. Only Cabbage knows how to undo it.”

  “Come and stand in front of me,” Cabbage said to Flaxfield.

  “I am.”

  “Oh. I didn’t see you.”

  Perry giggled and Melwood fought not to join in.

  “Look at me,” said Cabbage. He was staring into nothing. “Right into my eyes. Are you doing that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t say anything. Just look. Try to see yourself reflected in my eyes.”

  The library began to hum. It was coming down from the galleries. Like the sides of a windmill when the wind catches the sails and the grindstones are locked into position, rubbing against each other. It hummed and shook. Perry looked up again, still the galleries were empty.

  “Try to see yourself,” said Cabbage. “I’m just a mirror. You’re looking for a reflection.”

  The air thickened in front of Cabbage. It grew heavy. First his fingertips, then his shoulders, not attached, then his feet. Flaxfield was reappearing from the edges inwards. Cabbage’s lips trembled, his hands were clenched. He forced himself not to blink. At last they stood, face to face, wizard and apprentice, Flaxfield and Cabbage, man and boy. Flaxfield was entirely restored except for his eyes. Deep, empty sockets stared into Cabbage’s eyes.

  “Hold firm, lad,” said Flaxfield. “Don’t give up.”

  Cabbage bit his lips. His face was white as despair. His eyes fixed open.

  “That’s it,” said Flaxfield, and stepped away. His own eyes gleamed at them. Cabbage gasped, staggered and Jackbones pushed a chair beneath him as he fell. He sat with his arms on the table, head resting on the wood.

  “Here,” said Perry. “You dropped this.”

  He picked up Cabbage’s notebook which had fallen to the floor.

  “Careful,” said Flaxfield, reaching for the book and snatching at it.

  Perry pulled his hand back and the pages fanned out.

  “No one should touch an apprentice’s notebook,” snapped Flaxfield. “Put it down.”

  A pocket in the inside cover fell open and a sheet of paper tumbled out, fluttering to the floor. Perry grabbed it. He put the book and the paper on the table next to Cabbage.

  “What’s this?” said Flaxfield.

  “It fell out.”

  “I can see that. It’s an indenture.”

  Cabbage lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot. He rubbed his temples.

  “Headache,” he said. “Bad one.”

  Flaxfield put a long finger on the table.

  “What’s this? Did you sneak your indenture away?”

  “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

  “Well?”

  Jackbones sat next to Cabbage. His face was eager and he grinned more than usual.

  “Give the boy a chance, Flaxfield,” he said. “This might be what we were hoping for.” He put a gentle hand on Cabbage’s arm. “I’ll get you something for your headache,” he promised. “But tell us about this first.”

  Cabbage held the paper close to his face, then far away, trying to focus his eyes.

  “It was at Slowin’s Yard,” he said. “I picked it up. I thought it might be important.”

  Flaxfield smoothed it on the table.

  “It’s Bee’s indenture,” he said. He could hardly control the excitement in his voice. “It tells us everything.”

  They all leaned over. Flaxfield covered the paper with his hand.

  “Off you go, Perry,” he said. “Wait outside.”

  “What?”

  “This is wizard work,” said Flaxfield. “No one should ever see a wizard’s real name except another wizard. Even then you shouldn’t tell just any wizard. You’ll have to go outside.”

  Perry moved towards the door, looking sadly over his shoulder. Cabbage took the indenture, folded it and put it back into his notebook, which he closed with a snap.

  “Hey, we need that,” said Flaxfield.

  “I’ll look at it later,” said Cabbage. “With Perry. “I’ll tell you what it says.”

  “We have to get on. Time’s wasting. Give it here.”

  Cabbage knew that Flaxfield would never touch his notebook. As long as the paper was in there it was safe.

  “Perry’s my friend. I’ll look at it with him.”

  Dorwin and Melwood looked at each other and nodded. They knew how this would end. Flaxfield glowered. “You can’t show names to a roffle,” he said. “It’s never been done.”

  “This is new magic,” said Cabbage. “New times. New ways.”

  Flaxfield looked at Perry. The small roffle stood between them and the door, uncertain.

  “Come on,” he said. He put out his hand and Perry came over to him. Fl
axfield put his arm around him.

  “I promised your father I’d look after you,” he said. “I haven’t made a very good job of it, have I?”

  Perry put his own small hand on Flaxfield’s.

  “You’ve been busy,” he said.

  Flaxfield helped Perry into his chair.

  “No. I’ve been angry,” he said. “Angry with Slowin. And angry with myself. And angry about what was happening. I thought I was in command of magic and all the time it was slinking about like a dog waiting for a chance to break in. I haven’t behaved very well.”

  “Come on,” said Jackbones. “Show us that paper, Cabbage.”

  Cabbage opened it up and laid it on the table.

  “It’s Bee’s indenture all right,” said Flaxfield.

  “And it’s not been burned at all,” said Melwood. “It doesn’t even smell smokey. Not a scorch mark on it.”

  “Usual terms,” said Flaxfield. “Nothing special; it’s the names we want.”

  His finger ran down the page, stopping at the signatures.

  “Here,” he said. “She’s signed her name Ember. That doesn’t sound right.”

  “But look,” said Cabbage. “Where he was supposed to sign. It’s all a grey smudge.”

  Flaxfield beat his knuckles on the table top till they bled, smearing red on black on white.

  “Careful,” said Melwood, moving the indenture away.

  “The magic hid itself,” he said. “It’s making fun of us. We need to know what the other name is, and we need to know what he was doing with the names. All we know is that Bee said it didn’t seem right, and I can tell you, I believe her. Ember’s no name for her.”

  “We need to know what Slowin’s name is,” said Melwood.

  Cabbage jumped up.

  “We could ask his old master,” he said. “He’ll know. He’ll have to tell us.”

  “There are two problems there,” said Flaxfield. “First, he would never tell.”

  “He would if he knew how important it is,” said Perry, “wouldn’t he?”

  “Second,” said Flaxfield, “he’s dead. Third,” he added, forgetting he’d said two, “I can’t even remember who his master was.”

  “I can find out,” said Jackbones.

  “It’s not a college matter,” said Flaxfield. “He wasn’t a college wizard.”

  Jackbones sighed.

  “All you old wizards with your apprentices, you think the college is nothing. This library collects knowledge from everywhere, not just the college. There’s nothing worth knowing that isn’t in here. If I tell you the answer’s in here, then it’s in here.”

  “Get it then,” said Flaxfield.

  “I’ll do that if you like,” said Jackbones. “Just remember though, everything has a price. And this is a high price.”

  “We haven’t got any money,” said Cabbage. “Have we?” he looked at Flaxfield.

  Flaxfield’s face was set hard.

  “Not that sort of price,” he said. “Go on, Jackbones. Tell us.”

  Jackbones looked up at the galleries. Perry felt something up there move and remembered his question to Jackbones, about who else was in the library with them.

  “If his old master is dead,” said Jackbones, “then we’ll have to go among the dead to find him.”

  Melwood shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “Absolutely not. We’re not opening the Finished World. Not for this or anything else.”

  “We have to,” said Jackbones, “or we’ve lost.”

  “If we open the Finished World the most likely end is that we’ll all be drawn into it,” she said.

  “In the long run we’re all dead anyway,” he said. “So we may as well give it a try.”

  “We must,” said Flaxfield. “But the boys can’t be here when we do it. That’s final.”

  Jackbones gave him an affectionate smile.

  “Flaxfield, old friend,” he said. “You were so wise before all this happened. What’s gone wrong? Don’t you see, it will only work if the boys are here? They’re what it’s all about. They’re the ones who will see this through to the finish, not us.”

  “They’re not staying,” said Melwood.

  “He’s right,” said Flaxfield. “Of course he’s right. Then they must choose.”

  He stood and they all stood as though in obedience.

  “What’s it to be?” he asked. “There’s a way we can look for the answer, a way we can try to beat Slowin, but it’s the most dangerous thing of all. We could all die trying. What do you say?”

  “When do we start?” asked Perry.

  Flaxfield smiled at the roffle.

  “Cabbage?” he asked.

  “I’d like something to eat first,” he said. “Just in case.”

  “I don’t want to do this,” said Melwood.

  “Then leave,” said Jackbones.

  “If it happens, we all do it together,” she said. “And stop getting above yourself. Remember who’s the principal here.”

  The meeting broke up and they went to get some fresh air, walk the aches out of their legs, think about the dangers just ahead.

  Cabbage lingered till the others had gone.

  “Can you really do this?” he asked Jackbones when they were alone.

  “I think so.”

  “If we find out what we’re looking for, what are we going to do then?” asked Cabbage. “About Slowin.”

  “That’s easy,” said Jackbones. You’ll have to kill him. Or if you don’t you have to make sure someone else does.”

  “Why me?” asked Cabbage.

  “Don’t ask. Sometimes you can’t choose what you want to do. It chooses you. It’s just up to you to decide whether to go along with it.” |

  Perry looked round to say something

  to Cabbage and discovered that his friend had stayed behind in the library. He was suddenly uncomfortable. Dorwin and Flaxfield had linked arms and were ahead of him. He didn’t want to go back into the library and didn’t know where else to go. It was all so formal, so ordered. The college intimidated him. Worst of all, there didn’t seem to be any roffle holes he could slip into. Roffles like to think there’s always a way out of trouble Up Top. He was just about to go back for Cabbage when Melwood came back down the corridor towards him.

  “All alone,” she said. “Come on, I’ll show you the garden.”

  “It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll wait for Cabbage.”

  “Come on. This way.”

  She scooped him up and led him down a spiral staircase and through a door into the sunshine. For someone who didn’t raise her voice or make a fuss she had a very effective way of getting people to do what she wanted Perry noticed.

  “What do you think of this?” she asked.

  It was a wonderful garden. Like the library, it was far too big for the space allotted to it. The best thing though was that Perry could see three roffle holes straight away and he knew that there would be others if he looked around more.

  Melwood tried to tease him.

  “How big do you think it is?” she asked.

  They were in an area laid out to lawn, and on their right was another, bigger space, that had been cultivated with formal beds, trellises, low box hedges, herb borders and banks of tall flowers. Perry could see an old wall that he supposed held a walled vegetable garden. To their left and ahead of them, long walks and trees, a pond with geese and an island. Beyond that, landscape like muscle with deer and sheep.

  Perry could tell that visitors always gasped with astonishment when they saw this for the first time, and Melwood was waiting for him to do the same. He had had enough of this. They had ignored him ever since he arrived, all except Cabbage. They had been so excited to hear what Dorwin had to say that no one had asked him what he might know. As soon as he told them that his father had snatched him out of danger they turned away and didn’t want to know anything else.

  “Shall I tell you something?” he whispered.

 
Melwood smiled.

  Perry lowered his voice even more. “You must never tell anyone.”

  “No,” she said. “I won’t.”

  “The Deep World goes on miles and miles and miles. No one has ever reached the end of it.”

  Melwood looked excited. Roffles never talk about the Deep World to people Up Top.

  “But,” he continued, “you could fit the whole of the Deep World into a cottage kitchen.”

  Melwood stared at him. Her face was blank with shock.

  “It’s a lovely garden,” he said. “Why is everyone showing me things and telling me things but never asking me anything? Just because I’m small and just because I’m a roffle it doesn’t mean I don’t know anything.”

  Melwood blushed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “We’ve been too busy for you. We shouldn’t have been.”

  “The thing is,” said Perry. “I think I can tell you something about what you’ve been busy with. Why don’t any of you think I might be able to help?”

  So he told her what he had seen at Boolat. Melwood listened to the whole story without interrupting or asking him anything. When he was finished she took his hand and said again, “I’m sorry. We have to tell the others.”

  “All right.”

  She led him to the door into the college. Before she opened it she looked back at him.

  “Is it true?” she said. “What you just said about the Deep World?”

  Perry smiled.

  “Can a ferret whistle like a wardrobe till the clothes fall out?” he answered.

  Frastfil hadn’t been teaching at the college for long. A lot of college wizards never forget how happy they were as pupils at Canterstock and they wish they could go back as teachers. Frastfil was one of those.

  The trouble was he discovered that it wasn’t as much fun being a teacher as it had been as a pupil. He had never had many friends as a boy and the lessons had absorbed him so that this didn’t matter. He thought it would be the same now that he was a teacher. It hadn’t turned out like that. The pupils didn’t like his lessons much. And the other teachers weren’t his friends any more than the other children had been back in the past.

  He was lonely and wondered if he had done the right thing in coming here. Should he go back to being a working wizard?