Azrael's Twins

by V. J. Mortimer

  ‘Well who showed it to you, then?’ said Niamh.

  ‘Dad did when I was serving time after letting Iris loose. We were up here one day and he had it out on the desk trying to figure something out.’

  Niamh sat back on her broomstick, her shoulders sagging. ‘Sounds pretty convenient, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Whaddyamean?’ said Grady.

  ‘That it doesn’t seem at all strange that Dad would happen to have a magical map open in the same room as you happen to be when I bet hardly anyone ever gets to see it?’

  Grady stared at his sister for a moment before replying; ‘Ummm. Yep. Probably a bit strange. But why would he do that?’

  ‘So that we’d end up floating outside the castle walls trying to figure out why we need the map, stupid!’ Niamh practically shouted at Grady. ‘Much as I hate to admit you’re right, we obviously need it for something!’

  ‘Okay okay. Calm down. Yes, you’re right. Thank you,’ said Grady – hands up in the universal symbol of placation used by shouted-at brothers everywhere in the world. ‘So how do we get in there to get it?’

  ‘We wait. They can’t stay there forever,’ said Niamh, lowering her voice again and turning back to look at her father. She just hoped they didn’t take too long. No matter their broomsticks were leprechaun-made. Her bottom certainly wasn’t and any broomstick seat no matter how well made begins to get uncomfortable after a while!

  Hugh and Bree crept along the corridors towards the hall of statues. They had met no one on their way in to the castle so hadn’t had to get inventive with excuses yet. Rounding the last corner they peered along the hallway and saw no one but the dust faeries flicking back and forth across the corridor.

  ‘Come on,’ said Bree. ‘It’s clear.’ She broke into her quietest run with Hugh close behind her. Moments later they bounced to a halt in front of Bardolphus who promptly panicked and dropped his books with a clatter onto the floor – again.

  ‘Oh I’m sorry! Forgive me! I didn’t expect to see you there,’ said Bardolphus as he creakily started to get down and retrieve his fallen load.

  ‘No, don’t,’ said Hugh. ‘We’ll get them.’

  ‘Oh. Thank you,’ said Bardolphus, with a sheepish grin.

  ‘Bardolphus,’ said Bree; ‘Can you tell us where Quinn went when you saw him go past? And how long ago you saw him?’

  ‘Well I can tell you where he went, but I’m not sure about the when. You see when you get to about three hundred years old, time becomes a little irrelevant so I’ve not really been much good at keeping track of things like that.’

  ‘Hmm. Never were,’ sniffed his brother from the plinth next to them.

  ‘Button it, please!’ Hugh shouted at Beroldus. ‘We don’t have time for you trying to be smart. We just need to know which way he went!’

  ‘Ooohhh. Pardon me for breathing, which I don’t do anyway,’ said Beroldus. ‘If you must know, he took the passageway off to the right of the throne corridor.’

  Hugh looked towards the huge doors which lead to the throne room. Unusually, he now noticed, they hung open. Hugh had never seen them open at any time other than when the king was holding court, which rarely happened these days – the king not being one for the old ceremonies (much to the disgust of some of the more traditional families).

  ‘But there aren’t any corridors beside the throne. Just marble walls.’

  ‘Perhaps you should look closer, then,’ said Beroldus with a sneer before resuming his steady pose.

  Bree stared at the throne room for a moment before breaking into a trot towards the open doors. She skidded to a halt, causing Hugh to slide straight into her before tripping himself up and falling over. Turning to the brothers Bree said, ‘Thank you!’ before hurrying into the huge, open, and very empty space of the throne room.

  The walls behind the throne were solid marble. It looked to Bree as though they were hewn from one huge slab of rock and polished until the flakes of gold and silver it was flecked with seemed to hang in a clear diamond surface.

  ‘There’s nothing there, Bree. It’s just a solid wall,’ said Hugh, staring dumbly at the marble.

  ‘Well, start looking,’ said Bree.

  ‘What for?’ asked Hugh.

  ‘I don’t know. Anything that doesn’t look right,’ said Bree as she started to work her way along the wall with her fingers. ‘Beroldus might be rude, but he wouldn’t lie about this. And Bardolphus didn’t argue when he told us Quinn had come down here. So just start looking.’

  Hugh huffed and turned back to the wall. He reached out and touched the smooth marble. It felt cold to his touch but not as cold, he thought, as it should. Placing both hands on the wall he started working his way along it. Bree was doing likewise and together they inched their way back towards each other. After a few minutes of careful investigation they found themselves beside each other again. Bree sighed as she dropped her hands to her side. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘How did Quinn manage to disappear into a solid wall?

  Hugh suddenly jumped back, pointing at the wall just above their head height. ‘Look! Eyes!’

  Bree looked to where Hugh was pointing and gasped. A pair of gold eyes blinked back at them. The pupils matched the colours in the wall so well it was practically impossible to know if they had always been there or had just appeared as they do when you look at one of those extraordinary three dimensional puzzles that look just like the deranged drawings of an asylum inmate before suddenly resolving into a delicately blooming rose. The eyes stared at them for a moment before blinking out of view again.

  ‘What was that!’ said Bree breathlessly.

  ‘My name is Miranda,’ said a figure, suddenly gliding out of the wall and floating between them. The woman was slim and wore a shimmering gown which moved and sparkled just like the wall seemed to do. It was suddenly clear the gown was not solid at all. Miranda’s features evaporated and reformed like mist in a breeze. As the figure floated between the children, Bree realised she could see right through it to Hugh.

  ‘Who are you?’ said Bree.

  ‘I am the tunnel guardian,’ she said in a tone which made it obvious she felt the children should know better.

  ‘What are you?’ asked Hugh in a much more direct manner.

  The figure turned slowly to look at him. Hugh wasn’t sure if there was menace in her eyes and leaned backward as the apparition bent forward to look at him. Hugh could see deep lines of quartz-light sparkles stretching back like blood vessels. The figure stood up again before revolving slowly in the air and drifting away from the children. ‘I am of the Earth and of the Spirit. And I watch over the spaces where the living rock moves.’

  ‘So are you a ghost then?’ said Hugh, who really didn’t have time for dramatic theatricals, whether they came from a rock spirit or not.

  ‘You should know that things aren’t always what they seem,’ said Miranda, smiling. Hugh grinned back for a moment and then screamed as the figure’s face suddenly dissolved into a horrible death mask, as if an ancient mummified corpse had been reanimated. In a flash it was gone and the handsome features of the creature (you couldn’t call her pretty – there was nothing sylphlike or any elvish fineness in that visage) reformed and smiled back at Hugh. ‘No. I am not a ghost because I’ve never lived. But your minds give us form and shape and define us – for better and for worse. Why don’t you just call me Miranda and leave it at that. Labels for what we are can be tricky things.’ Miranda stopped and cocked her head to one side before turning to Bree. ‘Are you friends of his?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘Who?’ said Bree.

  ‘The boy with two patterns,’ said Miranda.

  ‘Do you mean Quinn?’ said Hugh.

  ‘That’s not a name I know,’ said Miranda. ‘But he came through here earlier.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Bree emphatically. ‘We are friends of his and we think he might need to see us.’

  ‘What do you mean? Two patterns?’ said Hugh.

  The apparition d
rifted closer to him, circling around him like dust motes caught in a light breeze. ‘You have one pattern, she has another. But the boy who you seek has two. Did you not know?’

  ‘We can’t see patterns like you,’ said Bree.

  ‘What limited creatures you are,’ said Miranda with a sneer. She stared down at Bree for a moment before seeming to reach a decision. ‘Wait here. I will be back shortly.’ The figure started to spin in the air, dissolved into a million sparkling motes of dust, coalesced into a ball, and then spirited itself back into the marble wall.

  Neither Hugh nor Bree spoke for a moment as they stared at the space where Miranda had disappeared.

  ‘What was that about?’ said Hugh.

  ‘That was our key to the tunnel. It’s behind that wall,’ said Bree excitedly.

  ‘Well what were you on about with that “He might need to see us” rubbish.’

  ‘You weren’t helping much. Have you ever had a day go by when you aren’t rude to someone? One of us had to use our brain.’

  ‘Yeah right. Like that was ever going to be you,’ said Hugh nastily.

  Bree pulled her wand out, but before she could cast the stink bomb spell she had in mind, the marble wall beside them suddenly started to disintegrate, falling inward on itself in chunks until a tunnel stretching off into the rock below appeared.

  ‘What did you do!’ said Bree accusingly.

  ‘Nothing! I’ve just been listening to you prattle on,’ said Hugh as he stared into the tunnel entrance.

  ‘Come,’ Miranda’s voice intoned from the tunnel. ‘He wants to talk to you.’

  Hugh and Bree looked at each other for a moment before Bree stepped forward to the entrance.

  ‘It's too dark for us,’ she said. ‘We can’t see anything.’

  Seconds later the walls of the tunnel started to glow with the same golden light as Miranda’s eyes. ‘Then let me light the way. Come now.’ Ahead of the children the glow had brightened to rival the daylight outside. They could see the tunnel curving away a short distance ahead.

  Bree glanced at Hugh before raising her foot to step over the threshold of the tunnel. Hugh grabbed her arm and held her back for a moment; ‘Why don’t we get Niamh and Grady? They should be here too.’

  ‘And let them have all the fun?’ said Bree, grinning. Hugh thought it was the first time he’d seen her smile for some time, but the grin made him nervous. ‘Come on. I want to see what he’s up to.’ Shaking herself free of Hugh’s hand Bree jumped through the entrance and started walking down the tunnel. Behind her Hugh rolled his eyes and reluctantly stepped through behind her.

  Bree was already almost at the point where the tunnel curved away when a grinding noise made both children turn to see the wall reforming behind them. In seconds there was no hint there had ever been an entrance as a thick wall of red rock stood in its place.

  ‘Hey!’ yelled Hugh. ‘What are you up to?’ he shouted to no one in particular. As he stood with his hands feeling the wall, the grinding noise started again and the rock in front of him started to roll forward like a wave of lava. In moments Hugh had to start backpedalling as the wall advanced.

  ‘Hugh!’ yelled Bree. ‘The tunnel doesn’t go anywhere! It’s a dead end!’

  The voice of Miranda suddenly echoed around the rapidly shrinking space ‘Unless you want this to be a genuine dead end then you should start walking with me now. And keep up. If you don’t stay in my light I can’t protect you here from the rock. It will reclaim its space when I relax, so stay alert.’ Hugh ran to Bree’s side and stood back to back with her. The golden glow around them began to move forward, slowly at first and then with increasing speed. As it did so the rock ahead parted as if it were water being pushed aside by the bow of a boat. Behind them the rock continued to roll back into the dark space vacated by the moving nimbus of the tunnel guardian’s magic. Bree didn’t need any encouragement. She grabbed Hugh’s hand and tugged him quickly forward, breaking into a run to keep up with their moving lifeboat of light.

  Niamh and Grady were starting to wonder how much longer they could sit in the shadow of the castle without being seen. There seemed no end to the discussions between their father, Murdock, and the other advisors that trotted in and out of the room at various times.

  ‘We can’t sit here forever, Niamh,’ said Grady, adjusting his pants. ‘My knickers keep riding up and its getting really uncomfortable, you know.’

  Niamh rolled her eyes. ‘Grady. You manage to sit on a dragon’s back when you need to. Just stop moaning, put on clean knickers tomorrow and you’ll be fine.’

  ‘Easy for you to say. You haven’t got bruises down there from Wizard’s Branding, have you.’

  ‘Grady, shut up and look. They’re moving!’

  Grady let his broomstick drift forward and peered around his sister into the library. Their father was rolling up the maps and talking to Murdock in a way which made it very clear they were about to leave. Merritt placed the maps into a long silver tube and sealed the end before taking out his wand and making a complicated gesture in the air in front of a slab of deep mahogany coloured wall. A section of the wall swung smoothly open revealing row after row of similar map cylinders. Merritt placed the cylinder in one of the empty slots before retracing the gesture in the air and watching the door swing shut again.

  ‘I never saw that before!’ said Grady, leaning forward. ‘I don’t think I ever saw Dad take the maps out or put them away. He always just had them out and ... Whoooh!’ yelled Grady as he started to fall over the front of his broom. In watching his father he hadn’t realised how far he was stretching and suddenly found himself dangling from the broom. In the library Murdock and Merritt turned and ran to the window.

  ‘Grady, you idiot!’ Niamh hissed, as quietly as she could. She reached for Grady and tried to pull him back but he was clearly going to be too heavy. Looking up she realised they would be seen in seconds. She started to panic, but a memory screamed to her of a cave in another land. She reached for a unicorn she could not see and a wind rose around her. Her hair streamed away from her face as she slammed a bubble of liquid light around herself and Grady.

  A window opened from the library just in front of where the children hung. Murdock and Merritt stared out to see what had caused the commotion they had heard. Niamh was certain there was no possible way they could escape being seen. They were less than ten feet from the window and Murdock was staring straight at them. He looked up, then down, from side to side, and finally back at almost exactly the spot where the children hung.

  ‘Nothing there,’ said Murdock. ‘Probably just a crow or a magpie.’

  Niamh held her breath, thinking that Murdock was so close he must hear her. Grady was hanging onto his broom with both hands while Niamh held his jersey. Both children simply stared at the window as it clicked shut in front of them. For moments more the children didn’t move. Inside Merritt and Murdock took one last look through the glass before turning and walking out of the library. As the door shut Niamh breathed again and helped Grady pull himself back up onto his broomstick. Once he was safely up she relaxed and the spell she had conjured winked out.

  ‘How did you do that?’ said Grady, looking at his sister with wonder.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Niamh said honestly. ‘I knew we’d be seen if I didn’t do something. But until I grabbed you I couldn’t have done that spell. It was like I ... I needed you to weave the spell.’ Niamh seemed genuinely repulsed at the idea of needing her brother to weave a spell and grimaced as she admitted it.

  Grady hovered a few feet away from Niamh trying to figure out if he was impressed by, or annoyed at, his sister. Eventually he figured out she was probably telling the truth. ‘Whatever it was you did I could feel the magic racing through me at the same time. It was just like being in the cave with the unicorn, wasn’t it?’

  ‘That’s what I thought of just before I did whatever it was I did. That was just the weirdest thing.’

  ‘How did you do it,
though?’ asked Grady. ‘That could be really useful!’

  Niamh stared blankly at Grady while she thought. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she finally said. ‘All I had was a memory and the image of the unicorn and then the spell just ... happened.’

  Grady frowned at his sister. ‘Don’t use that excuse in front of Hugh. He’s already said it’s lame. If you ever work it out, tell me. Next time Maladicta is after me I’d love to be able to use that one. Anyway, come on. They’ve gone.’

  Grady leaned forward on his broomstick and gently eased it out in front of the window that Murdock had opened. He reached forward and tried to prise it open but a few hefty tugs showed there was no possibility they were going to get in that way. ‘No good. It’s bolted tight. Any ideas?’ he said to Niamh.

  Moving her broomstick up beside Grady’s Niamh peered in through the window. The only movements in the room were the tiny rapidly flitting library faeries, none of whom seemed the slightest bit interested in the appearance of the two children. The window was secured top and bottom by small brass latches. Niamh peered at them for a moment before drawing her wand. ‘I’ve an idea. Let me try something.’ Grady let his broomstick drift backward as Niamh pointed her slender wand at the top latch. For a moment nothing happened, but suddenly the latch rattled and started to move before dropping abruptly back into place. ‘Dang it and Poot,’ said Niamh. Grady chuckled, but stopped quickly when Niamh shot a filthy look at him. ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘Poot?’ said Grady smiling. No one under a hundred says Poot anymore!’

  ‘Well Mum and Dad are really dark on the swearing thing and I needed something more than Dang.’

  ‘Niamh – look at what you’re doing! You’re floating around on a broomstick outside a castle window trying to pick the lock after bunking off school. Do ya really think Mum’s gonna get upset about a Damn or a Blast?’

  Niamh frowned for a moment and then smiled. ‘Whatever,’ she said rolling her eyes, but couldn’t hide her agreement with Grady. Inwardly she let out a string of “Blasts Damn and Damn its” but wasn’t about to give her brother the satisfaction of hearing that. She turned back to the window and gave the locks another withering stare which didn’t seem to be helping open them. An idea began to form in her mind.