by E. M. Cooper
‘But in France they’ve upped the quota to four and I’ve heard there’s no limit in Norway,’ the wizard with the clown-like feet and hands said moodily.
‘What a slippery slope that would be.’ Sister Fairstar pursed her lips in distaste. ‘If everyone can have them, they’ll become common and ordinary. We must have standards. Otherwise, humans will start to notice and imagine it’s a fad. Mark my words, once they get whiff of it being a thing, they’ll start cramming the poor creatures in their putrid hovels.’ She shuddered. ‘Do you really want to have to resort to the Royal Mail or worse, eee-mail?’
‘I say we vote,’ the clown-like wizard said.
‘We can’t,’ Mr Arnold said abruptly. ‘Thigimus can’t vote as he’s standing down and we need twenty votes to change a by-law. We’ll need to wait until we admit Janice Wiggins to the chapter next meeting.’
The defeated wizard sighed loudly and after pulling out a bundle of knitting from his bag sat clicking his needles sulkily while the others kept talking.
‘By the way,’ Mr Arnold added, ‘Mage Fairstar has kindly offered to host the next meeting as I’m having the mansion painted—there’ll be fumes and many humans. It won’t be pleasant.’
When the time came for the wizards’ supper, Marnie strained to hear Thigimus, Charlie and Mr Arnold. They had all climbed the ladder to the platform and were now peering through the telescope viewer and talking. Dejected, she sat back on the bucket and waited. When she finally heard the sounds of chairs scraping and footsteps pattering, she realised the wizards were going. Standing up, she peered through the cupboard slats and almost gasped when she realised Mr Arnold was standing with his back to her talking to Thigimus by the library door. She held her breath, terrified they might hear her.
‘So three tomorrow morning it is. I’m quite excited at the thought. It’s been a decade since I’ve been to the homeland. I’ve heard there have been changes,’ Thigimus said. ‘I assume Charlie will be ready? It’s dreadfully early, but that can’t be helped. It’s the way it works.’
‘Of course. If you come for dinner,’ Mr Arnold said, ‘you can nap here until it’s time to leave. I’ll have my driver take you both to the allotment from the house.’
‘Excellent,’ Thigimus said. ‘Is there plenty of room for a vortex to land safely?’
‘Absolutely ... three or four houses wide. It’s only a kilometre or so away, but we don’t want to take any chances. I’ve seen some strange types about the neighbourhood when the vortices touch down.’
Thigimus nodded. ‘Yes, I tend to stay indoors myself. Between the local thugs and illegal interworld travellers, our corner of the multiverse is becoming less agreeable. I say it’s best to draw the shutters, lock the doors and hope for pleasant dreams.’
Marnie blocked a yawn as the clock chimed one in the corridor. When all was quiet and dark, she slipped out of the cupboard and back to the ladder beneath her room. Creeping up it silently, she nearly screamed when she saw someone sitting on her bed.
‘Shh,’ Seb said. ‘It’s only me. Where have you been?’
‘In one of the library cupboards.’
Seb grinned. ‘You overheard the meeting?’
Marnie nodded. ‘Almost enough. Charlie’s going with Thigimus tomorrow morning at three to an allotment about a kilometre away. Mr Arnold said it was a big space ... about three or four houses wide.’
Seb frowned and rubbed his temples. ‘I can think of three allotments that big.’ He half laughed. ‘They’re all in different directions from here though.’
‘Everyone’s in bed. We could go back to the telescope and try to see what they saw.’
‘Too risky. Anyway, we wouldn’t know what we were looking for.’
‘If you follow the Arnolds’ car tomorrow morning with Theo, you’ll be fine. We just need to let him know.’ She wanted to tell Seb how much she was going to miss him yet felt strangely awkward and shy.
Seb climbed down the ladder leaving Marnie to sleep, but she couldn’t. In her heart she knew what she had to do—follow Seb. She didn’t care if she got into trouble. If she was a scatterling like Seb, she faced the same risks he did, and it wasn’t holding him back. At least if she followed him she could trial the Fanglewick exam and learn what she needed to do next year or maybe even get a job there. Anything was possible. Perhaps she might be able to give them all the slip and live undetected in this new Old World. The thought excited her.
She remembered Mr Arnold talking about the yellow lenses and Thigimus mentioning the visual wizard who could see vortices with her naked eye. After rummaging under her mattress, Marnie plucked out two yellow lenses and fitted them in her glasses. From her window, she stared through the lenses over the tops of the Downfell buildings and chimneys but couldn’t see anything unusual, only a faint spattering of stars on the inky sky. Gazing at the skylight, she realised she had a means of getting closer to those stars.
After inspecting the window panels, she found one that had a clasp and latch. It was stiff with rust and disuse, so she jiggled it until it loosened, hoping no one could hear. Opening the panel, she gasped as cold air blasted her face, but she squeezed through the gap. Outside it was freezing, so she climbed back in and fetched her jacket, ignoring her chilled legs and fingers. She climbed out the window again and scaled a ladder leading up the side of the building to a flat space on the roof. Although buffeted by the wind, she gazed at the night sky through her glasses, hoping to catch sight of anything weird or unusual. Disappointed after twenty minutes or so of searching, she returned to her room and dived under the blanket to regain feeling in her fingers. It was then she spotted the collapsed brass tube lying in her open case. Scrambling out of bed, she grabbed it and flicked it out until it extended and locked. Suddenly she realised its potential. She examined the brass tube and sure enough, she discovered two empty slots for the lenses. After popping out the yellow lenses from her glasses, she fed them into the tube carefully and locked them in with the metal clasps. Impatiently she tried to use the telescope in her room, but was frustrated when it didn’t work.
Climbing back outside through the open window panel, she scurried onto the roof again. Her hands were shaking with cold and excitement as she turned in a circle to see a wondrous night sky alive with revealed planets and bright stars. But the greatest discovery was a strange iridescent purple light throbbing and circulating to the north, left of the church steeple. It was a large vortex almost in contact with the ground. She turned in a wide circle, making sure no other strange phenomena lurked in the night sky. Eventually she scanned back towards the single pulsating vortex.
Thrilled, Marnie knew she had discovered the gateway to the Old World.
* * *
CHAPTER 7
Slipping between worlds
Marnie was bursting to tell Seb about her news the next morning at breakfast and when he trudged into the kitchen with a dejected face, she smiled at him and nodded. She could see his instant curiosity and a flicker of hope.
The children sat around the long bench eagerly waiting for Clara to finish dishing porridge into their bowls while Seb manoeuvred to sit beside Marnie.
‘It’s okay, trust me, you’re going,’ Marnie whispered as he sat beside her.
‘Really?’
She nodded, delighted to see his joy and relief.
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Molly said in a suspicious tone.
Marnie stared at her with a deadpan expression. ‘Seb just said how particularly delicious the porridge looked this morning.’
Clara chuckled as she left the room while Molly scowled.
At the other end of the kitchen, Charlie bustled through the doorway. ‘I have an announcement,’ he said in a pompous voice.
Most of the children didn’t bother shifting their gaze from their bowls.
‘Hurry up, my porridge is growing cold,’ said Molly in an irritable tone.
Marnie yawned loudly and deliberately, so that the other children g
iggled. ‘Go on, are you going to tell us?’
Charlie glared at her. ‘If I were my father, I’d be sending you back to the orphanage. You’re a drain on my family and a bad influence around here.’
Marnie shrugged.
He looked around at the other children. ‘Tonight I’m leaving here to go to boarding school.’
‘Where would that be?’ Molly asked bluntly.
‘Um, Northern Scotland.’
‘Why are you starting there in the middle of the school year?’
‘They have a different system to ordinary schools and start in spring. It’s a private, prestigious school. They only let the best in.’
‘Best what?’ Seb whispered to Marnie.
‘And you’re going there?’ Marnie said to Charlie without changing her expression.
Charlie was obviously in a good mood because he let her comment slide.
Molly scraped her bowl loudly. ‘And how do they decide who gets into this wonderful school?’
‘A brutal examination. Only the best minds survive the test and are admitted.’
‘Really? Sounds terrifying,’ Seb said in a flat voice.
But again, Charlie didn’t bite. ‘Only if you’re not cut out for it.’
‘Have you passed the exam already?’ Marnie fixed him with a stare.
Charlie shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Not yet, but given my preparation, it should be a mere formality.’
‘I’m sure.’ Marnie smiled at him sweetly.
‘Anyway, if you don’t see me around until this time next year, you’ll know why.’
‘Aye, well, I hope you have a wonderful year,’ Seb said. ‘Best of luck with that exam and I’m glad it’s you and not me.’
Marnie had to pinch her thigh to stop herself laughing.
After breakfast, Marnie and Seb retreated to weed the vegetable garden, where they laughed and imitated Charlie, and Marnie told Seb about her discovery.
‘You’re sure?’
‘Absolutely. The vortex was spinning by the church—to its left.’
‘Yes, I know that allotment. Thank you, Marnie.’ Seb hugged her in delight. ‘So it’s happening. I’m going tonight. I can’t believe it.’
Marnie felt her heart tear. She dug savagely in the soil with her trowel to stop her tears.
Seb’s expression changed and he became quiet. ‘I’m going to miss you so much. Even though we’ve only known each other for a short time, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.’
She wanted to tell him she would be following him to Fanglewick yet knew her chance of reaching the Old World and passing the exam was slim. Why give him or herself false hope? Realistically, Fanglewick would admit Seb and her attempt would fail.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said. ‘I’ll be studying my butt off with Theo. You’ll be back next year and then we’ll be together again.’
‘I wish you could come with me. A year seems like forever.’
‘It isn’t. Think of what you’ll be learning and the new friends you’ll make. It’ll be amazing.’
Seb hugged her again. ‘You’re the closest person to family I’ve had since I left Ireland.’
‘Pass the exam and do it for both of us.’
‘I will, I promise.’
‘Are you scared?’
‘Aye, of course. Do you think Charlie’s worried?’
Marnie smiled. ‘He’d be brain-dead if he wasn’t. You don’t cheat if you’re confident. It’s probably worse for him.’
‘I can’t see how.’
‘He’s got obnoxious parents and the expectations of the Northern England Chapter weighing him down, but you’re a free spirit and that’s the best thing ever.’
Seb frowned. ‘I guess I’ve never thought of it like that.’
Marnie made the excuse of having a headache in the afternoon and disappeared to her room while Seb visited Theo to ask him to bring his car to the house in the early morning.
After stitching the torn lining of her case, Marnie packed it with its precious cargo of lenses, photo, telescope and her meagre assortment of clothes. She then sat on the edge of the bed to wait for nightfall and mentally rehearse how she would get to the allotment.
Marnie was first to dinner and first to depart. She said a brief goodbye to Seb, who seemed hurt by her rush and unwillingness to talk. The truth was that she had to rely solely on her plan with no Thigimus or Mage Mystilic to guide or help her. The thought of travelling alone to a new world terrified her, yet she was determined to do it. To do that, she had to focus and stay strong.
She fought to stay awake but drowsed into sleep until woken suddenly by the corridor clock chiming at two. Horrified she had almost slept through; she paced the room for another half hour before stirring into action. Dressed in her warmest clothes and clutching her case, she climbed through the open window panel and towards a side ladder from the roof. Outside, a flurry of snow was falling and she shivered in the chill as it swept over her. As she descended, she clutched the cold and slippery rungs, terrified she might fall and ruin her chances at the bottom of the ladder. When she reached the ground, she ran like a cat towards the garden shed flashing the torch she had begged from Clara. She flinched and hid when a dog barked in the next yard and lights flicked on. Eventually everything settled. Grateful the shed was unlocked, she crept inside and grinned at the sight of the rusting bike hanging on a hook. But a moment later, she almost wept when she saw its perished tyres.
‘Stop it, you blubbering baby,’ she said aloud. She had legs and it was only a kilometre or so away. ‘You have oceans of time.’ Although comforted she had a head start on Charlie and Seb, she knew she’d probably need it because they were being driven to the allotment.
Dashing down the redbrick path, Marnie reached the gate and burst onto the bitumen footpath. Overhead, the full moon floodlit the path with reassuring light. She felt she could fly. Setting off with her case tucked under her arm, she sighted the steeple of the Downfell church and set her jaw determinedly. Panting in the biting cold, she ran as hard as she could. Within a couple of minutes, her lungs burned in the frosty air. When she reached the school, she turned down the next road to the left and scanned the blocks for an empty allotment. She got to the end of the street and realised it was probably the next one—but it wasn’t. Dismayed, she discovered the next one wasn’t either. Searching the sky overhead for a hint of purple light or a swirl of spiralling air, she found nothing. She tried to listen for the sound of voices or the hum of a car motor, but only heard dead leaves rattling in the breeze. While struggling to control her breath, she opened her case, tore the mended lining and fumbled for a yellow lens. She almost cried when she found one and held it with shaking hands up to the sky. At first she saw nothing. She tried again. The faintest hint of purple light flickered for a split second.
‘Thank you,’ she called to the night and ran in the direction of the pale purple light. It had to be a miracle, or that’s what she told herself because she had seen a ghostly purple vortex with one simple lens.
When she reached the allotment, she scrambled under the loose wire fence at one end after seeing Charlie and Thigimus disappearing in the middle of the field along with their numerous cases and boxes. Moments later, Seb carrying only his backpack stepped up to the same spot and vanished. Frantic, she sprinted to where they had disappeared and in the corner of her eye saw Theo standing behind the wire fence waving.
‘Go for it, Marnie!’ he called. ‘Good luck! I’ll be here if you return.’
‘Thank you, Theo,’ she called in a breathy voice before she stepped forwards and felt an enormous rushing frenzy to which she could only surrender. She came through the pink haze only to be standing in front of a man, who looked more like a turtle in a uniform hunched over a desk. Disoriented for several moments, she took a deep breath. A painted sign reading, Upper Downfell Station hung above him and a plaque with his name, Earnest Day, Station Master sat on the desk in front of him. She pinched her
arm to make certain it wasn’t a peculiar dream.
‘Next, please,’ Earnest said.
Marnie glanced behind her and seeing no one else, stepped forward.
‘Destination?’
She looked at him vacantly.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Um, ah, Fanglewick ... the Old World.’
‘Yes, I’m well aware of Fanglewick’s location.’ He spun his chair and pulled a long ticket from a machine by his side and offered it to Marnie. ‘Five digdas, please.’
‘I haven’t any—’
‘Money?’ Earnest shook his head and exhaled slowly. ‘The Intergalactic Transportation Department isn’t a charity, you know.’
Marnie heard a sharp whistle before a gold coin came spinning through the haze over her head towards Earnest. He had surprisingly quick reflexes for a turtle-man because he snapped it from the air with his outstretched hand, or was it a paw, without glancing in its direction.
‘How did you do that?’
But Earnest didn’t seem to hear. ‘Thank you.’ He handed Marnie the ticket and a few coins. ‘Step through the doorway ahead. Make sure you stay between the yellow lines and whatever you do, keep going. Remember, no refunds.’ He spoke in a droning voice without pausing to take a breath. ‘You must leave within a minute, or you’ll miss your connecting vortex. We don’t want any nasty rebounds or catapults, do we? Pleasant trip.’ He looked beyond Marnie and although no one stood there, said, ‘Next?’
Marnie gathered her case and stepped through the arched doorway onto a concrete platform which smelled dusty and metallic. Peering over the edge, she saw no road or train tracks—only swirling grey fog. The air was so warm and steamy, she unzipped her jacket. When she turned, the doorway had vanished and instead a large clock set in the brickwork ticked ominously, becoming louder with each second. Further along the platform, people—a stout woman in gumboots wielding a large umbrella and a sack of carrots marched through another doorway and off the platform into the fog.
‘Where are you going?’ Marnie called to a young child carrying a yellow balloon, but she looked ahead and followed the stout woman over the edge.