The Serpents of Arakesh

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The Serpents of Arakesh Page 12

by V M Jones


  I lay down again, and pulled the bedclothes up to my chin. I left the light on. A long time later, Richard turned over onto his back and began to snore.

  And a long, long time after that, I finally fell asleep.

  Under the stars

  It had never occurred to me that it might be approaching nightfall when we returned to Karazan.

  Once again I made the transition effortlessly. When I opened my eyes it was dusk, and I was standing alone on the tussocky rise at the foot of the cliff. Before I had time to wonder where the others were, they materialised one by one. First Gen collapsed on the grass in a heap, then Richard appeared out of nowhere, shaking his head as if to clear it. Kenta followed him, her face screwed up and her head in her hands. Last of all came Jamie, on hands and knees, making retching sounds.

  He looked up at me reproachfully. ‘You said it was easy, Adam,’ he moaned. ‘I feel like I’m going to throw up.’ He rolled over and lay on his back, clutching his stomach.

  I was about to answer him when Kenta spoke. ‘Look,’ she said, pointing, ‘the cat has followed us.’

  ‘Oh no! How did that happen?’ Sure enough, there at the foot of the standing stone sat Tiger Lily, washing her face with her paw. And then I remembered — she’d been in the computer room when Q had given us our final briefing. She’d been kind of winding herself round my ankles, the way cats do. She must have been touching me when I gave the keyboard command, and been drawn along with me, like a magnet.

  Richard laughed.

  ‘I don’t see what’s so funny,’ said Gen. ‘OK, here we are in Karazan, but that’s about the only thing that’s gone according to plan. It’ll soon be dark, and I don’t fancy spending the night here. And what are we going to do about the cat? We can’t take him with us.’

  ‘Her,’ I said. ‘She’s a her.’ But no one was listening.

  ‘We must go back again right away.’ Jamie’s bottom lip was quivering. ‘Then we can take the cat back, have a proper dinner, and spend the night safe in our own beds at Quested Court. We can come back again in the morning, after breakfast.’

  He seemed to have forgotten we’d just had breakfast, and it already was the middle of the morning — in our own world.

  But my big worry was Tiger Lily. What if she melted off into the trees and we never saw her again? I flinched — I’d be the one who’d have to explain to Hannah when we got back. I squatted on the ground and held out one hand. ‘Kitty-kitty-kitty,’ I went enticingly. ‘Tiger Lily! Come here.’ But every time I crept within reach she’d hop nimbly away, as if it was a game of tag.

  Even when the others joined in, we had no better luck. After a spectacularly unsuccessful rugby tackle, Richard said he was giving up.

  ‘I agree. Anyway, I don’t think we should go back — it seems inappropriate to treat travel between dimensions like a shuttle bus, available to take you home every time you meet a minor setback,’ said Kenta primly. ‘Remember what Q told us? Karazan may well retain some elements of a game world, where everything should be examined and questioned. Much may occur with a hidden purpose that will only become apparent later. Perhaps this is an example. Perhaps the cat is here for a reason.’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ sneered Jamie scornfully. ‘He was smarming up to Adam, and got pulled through by accident. Of course we should take him back. You said I’d never volunteer for anything dangerous, Richard. Well, I’ll take the cat back home, if we can catch him.’

  It was Gen who put her finger on the flaw in his heroic offer. ‘You can’t. There’s only one microcomputer — we all have to travel holding hands, remember?’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Kenta. ‘What if you took the cat back, and —’ she paused delicately — ‘something prevented you from returning?’

  There was a short, rather unpleasant silence while everyone thought about what that would mean.

  ‘Let’s vote on whether to continue or return,’ suggested Kenta.

  ‘Cool,’ said Rich. ‘I vote to go on.’

  ‘Same here. I say now we’re here, we should tough it out.’ I didn’t say so, but the prospect of spending a night under the Karazan stars was exciting — terrifying, but irresistible. ‘After all, we’ve got our sleeping bags.’

  ‘I vote to continue, but I am uncertain what we should do about the cat. He is a complication.’

  ‘Tiger Lily,’ I told Kenta. ‘He’s a she, and her name is Tiger Lily.’

  ‘That’s three out of five for carrying on,’ said Richard with satisfaction. ‘Seems like the decision’s made.’

  I would have been happy to make our camp right there, up in the open under the stars. But everyone else said they’d feel more comfortable under the trees, and what if it started to rain? Jamie broke his sulky silence long enough to suggest that we knock on Ronel and Argos’ door and ask for a bed for the night, but fortunately no one took him seriously.

  We followed the sound of the river down through the forest, past where I’d found the flame vine, and past the place where I reckoned the cottage must be, tucked away among the trees. The further from the entry point we could get before dark the better, the others thought — in the game, at least — the forest held fewer dangers closer to its borders, and was relatively safe near the city of Arakesh.

  The ground continued to slope gradually down, and it grew steadily darker. Just as I was about to suggest we call a halt and camp where we were, Richard, who’d scrambled on ahead down a steep bank, let out a triumphant shout: ‘Here we go, guys! The perfect camping spot!’

  We slithered down the bank after him, the sound of rushing water in our ears. Sure enough, the trees thinned out into a grassy clearing, at one side of which was a wide pool with a waterfall. ‘I remember this place from Quest to Karazan,’ Gen told us, her eyes sparkling. ‘There are edible fish in the pool, and the water’s safe below the fall.’ That meant we’d have fresh water to drink, somewhere to wash in the morning, and the shelter of the trees if we needed it.

  Rich was right: it was perfect.

  Finding such an ideal spot to spend the night cheered everyone up, even Jamie. Cautiously staying within sight of one another, we scavenged for firewood. Soon we had a merry blaze going, thanks to the lighters Q had issued us with. It was Jamie who suggested we cook something over the campfire, and then try to get some sleep: ‘It’s what you do to counter jet lag,’ he told us: ‘try to adapt to the time frame of your destination as quickly as possible.’

  When Gen found a packet of marshmallows in her rucksack, everyone was quick to agree. We toasted marshmallows on sticks over the fire, and for the first time we really talked.

  We talked about our quest, and whether the magic potion really existed, and where we should begin our search. We talked about Q’s competition, and how we’d felt when we won, and how different the reality was from what we had expected. We told ghost stories, until Gen gave a shiver and asked if we could stop.

  And because magic suddenly seemed very real, and anything seemed possible, we talked about what we would choose if each of us was granted one wish.

  ‘A million more wishes,’ goes Jamie, quick as a flash. But he was shouted down. This was serious, insisted Kenta.

  ‘I’d wish to be the greatest rugby player in the world,’ said Richard.

  ‘I would wish to be able to attend university,’ said Kenta. ‘It probably seems a waste of a wish to you, but for me it is an almost impossible dream.’

  ‘What about you, Gen?’ I asked curiously. ‘What would you wish?’

  Gen poked the fire with her stick, and watched as it flared into a flame. Strange shadows danced on her face. ‘Promise you won’t laugh?’ she said shyly. ‘I’d wish … I’d wish to be beautiful. You know how I love fairy tales? Well, my mother does too. She told me that when I was born, she thought about what gift she would have asked my fairy godmother for, at my christening. “And I’m ashamed to admit, Genevieve, that it didn’t take me long to decide on beauty. It can get a girl a long way in life,” she sai
d.’ Gen sighed. ‘Well, it’s pretty obvious my fairy godmother didn’t turn up. But I’ve always wondered what it would have been like if she had.’

  ‘Personally, I do not believe that superficial appearance is at all important,’ Kenta told her staunchly.

  ‘Yes, I know,’ sighed Gen. ‘But still …’

  ‘OK,’ Jamie spoke up unexpectedly. ‘Seeing you were honest, Gen, I will be too.’ We all looked over at him expectantly. ‘I’d wish …’ I’d have sworn he was blushing, but maybe it was only the firelight reflecting on his face, ‘I’d wish to have friends. It’s like … at school, I get teased a lot. About … my size and not being much good at sport. Everyone else seems to have a best friend. But not me. If I could have one wish, it’d be for that.’

  We’d caught glimpses of Tiger Lily on and off during our walk, flitting through the trees after us like a pale shadow. While we’d been talking by the fire, she’d appeared on the bank of the pool and found herself a position on a rock, staring intently into the water. Now, the silence following Jamie’s words was broken by a gruesome crunching sound. I went over to investigate. She had caught herself some dinner, and was enjoying it as much as we were our marshmallows — though I wouldn’t have liked to swap.

  Soon it looked as though Jamie’s jet lag suggestion was paying off: there were more and more yawns, and the talk tailed away to sleepy silence.

  ‘I think Jamie’s right,’ said Gen at last. ‘We should all try to get some rest. It’ll make morning come sooner.’

  Q had issued us all with identical sleeping bags, moss-green and about the size of Swiss rolls. They were made of goose-down and weighed almost nothing. Q said they’d keep us warm in even the coldest weather. We agreed we should take turns to be on watch and keep the fire going. Jamie volunteered for first stint, with a meaningful look at Richard, and settled down stoically with his back to a tree trunk.

  The rest of us curled up a safe distance away from the fire. Gradually, silence settled and I became aware of the sounds of the forest — the whispering of the wind in the treetops; an occasional furtive rustling; a sudden chattering alarm call. Once, I heard a long, howling cry, but it was very far away. And once I saw — or thought I saw — pale, glowing eyes staring out of the undergrowth, but the moment I focused on them, they blinked and were gone.

  Sleep seemed very far away.

  After a long time, I heard muffled sobbing from the dark shape that was Gen. I lay still, wanting to help but not knowing how, trying to decide whether to say anything to her — and what to say, to a girl who was crying. I saw a small shape slip across to her sleeping bag like a ghost. There was a startled murmur, a rustle, and soon the unmistakable sound of purring.

  I smiled to myself, settled deeper into my sleeping bag, and gazed up at the unfamiliar constellations wheeling in the velvet sky above me.

  No matter what lurked in the dark beyond our campfire, I had never felt so happy.

  Force-back

  ‘It’s humungous!’

  ‘Awesome! A real city, with walls and gates and everything!’

  ‘Why is everyone wearing such dull clothes? And those floppy-eared donkeys with strange mops of hair — they look like lop-eared rabbits!’

  ‘It’s like something out of a fairy tale! Do you think that tall building in the centre is a castle?’

  We were standing in the dappled shade at the edge of the forest. A strip of open grassland with a few scattered trees lay between us and the sprawling city of Arakesh, with a wide road leading up to the main gates.

  From the cliff above the forest Arakesh had looked like a toy town, distant and unreal. Now, it hummed with life. A steady stream of traffic moved along the road, to and from the city gate: mostly people on foot, but the occasional handcart, and one or two covered wagons, drawn by the strange donkeys and the odd mangy-looking llama. Peddlers, perhaps, or farmers, bringing their wares to market.

  The gates stood open, but they were flanked by sentry boxes — and they were manned. The sun glinted off the helmets of two tall guards, and I could make out what looked like a pike leaning against the wall. Though the guards were paying close attention to everyone who entered, they seemed to concentrate on the carts and wagons. Whenever one approached, they’d pull it over to one side and interrogate the owner, rifling through the contents and making notes on a kind of slate. All this seemed to be accompanied by a fair amount of ill feeling on both sides, and angry gestures.

  Clustered at the foot of the sentry boxes, and huddled in the shade beneath the city walls, was a ragged band of beggars. They wore hooded grey cloaks and crouched motionless, heads sunk, like resting vultures. Now and then, for no reason I could see, one of the guards would toss a coin towards them; there’d be a brief scuffle, and then one of them would melt away through the gates, presumably to spend his pickings.

  Beyond the gates, wisps of smoke were rising from what I imagined must be houses. The faint ringing sound of metal being rhythmically struck travelled clearly through the still air, and I had a sudden, vivid image of a blacksmith at his forge.

  It was a real city, full of real people, waking up to another day. Somewhere, a rooster crowed — a simple sound, reminding me of a world that seemed suddenly very far away.

  ‘Adam? Are you OK?’

  I turned away so Kenta wouldn’t see my sudden tears. Why would a dumb rooster crowing make anyone feel like crying? ‘Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?’ I muttered. ‘Come on, let’s get going.’

  The night before, we had agreed Arakesh was the logical place to start our search. We’d calculated the city must lie pretty much east of where we had camped. Jamie had appointed himself official navigator, claiming he’d learned how to use a compass in Scouts.

  So far, it looked as though Q had thought of everything we could possibly need: sleeping bags, food, lighters and compasses. Even the pocketknives had come in useful for cutting the green twigs to toast our marshmallows. We also had torches and a coil of light, strong nylon rope. ‘I have absolutely no idea what you might need it for,’ Q had said, ‘but it certainly can’t hurt to have it.’ Stowed safely away in one of the inner compartments of my backpack were my Bible, penny whistle and ring. Crazy though it seemed in daylight, I couldn’t shake the certainty that there’d been someone — or some unseen presence — in the room that night. There was no way I was going to leave my most precious possessions at Quested Court. Earlier, I’d offloaded some of my gear into Richard’s pack to make room for Tiger Lily, but I’d kept my shawl scrunched up at the bottom, and she’d settled down happily in its soft folds for a nap.

  We trudged along the rough road towards the city gate, keeping our heads down and our mouths shut. That was another thing we’d agreed on: we would talk as little as possible. We were all aware that words, once spoken, could never be taken back.

  I had a nervous, fluttery feeling in my stomach as we approached the guards. I was certain they would sense something different about us, something that didn’t belong.

  But we timed it perfectly. Just ahead of us trundled a heavy wagon, laden with produce. With a brusque order, one of the guards motioned it off the road, and both of them closed in on it.

  Eyes lowered, hardly daring to breathe, we edged past on their blind side, praying we wouldn’t be noticed. But avoiding the guards brought us close to the beggars — too close for comfort. Their hoods obscured their faces, and a rank, putrid smell hung about them. Though they didn’t turn their heads, I could feel them watching us, hungry and waiting …

  The guards didn’t so much as spare us a glance. The second we were through the gate we scurried into the shadow of the nearest building. My heart was hammering, and my mouth felt dry. Behind us, I dimly registered the chink of a coin striking cobblestones, and the scrabbling, scuffling sound of the beggars, like ravens squabbling over a crust of bread.

  ‘Right — so far, so good,’ Rich whispered hoarsely. Lines of sweat had carved clean paths down his dusty face, although the m
orning was still cool. He pushed his damp thatch of hair off his forehead with the back of his hand, and made a rueful face. ‘The sooner we find that potion and get out of here, the better. Which way now?’

  The road branched into three like a trident. The middle branch was clearly the most well-used — a broad track of cobblestones polished smooth by use, heading straight towards what I imagined would be the town centre. Most of the wagons and carts seemed to be heading that way.

  The other two forks wound off to the left and right. Smaller lanes led off them with houses on either side fronting directly onto the street, in earthy shades of ochre, brown, cream and grey. The narrow streets twisted and wound in a haphazard way that made me worry about how easy it would be to get lost.

  Even huddled in the shadow of the wall, keeping our voices low and our heads down, we were attracting curious glances from the passers-by. And it was easy to see why — like Argos and Ronel, they all had darker skin and the pale faces of the other four stood out like beacons. ‘I hate the way everyone keeps looking at us,’ muttered Gen, turning towards the wall. ‘Let’s get off this main road. At this rate, it’s only a matter of time till someone asks us who we are and what we’re doing here, and where our parents are. And then what?’

  ‘Yeah, you’d better be our spokesman if anyone challenges us, Adam,’ grinned Rich with a wink, and for once I was glad of the dusky skin I’d so often been teased about at school.

  ‘Help — here comes one of those beggar people,’ hissed Gen. ‘They give me the creeps.’

  ‘In every civilisation there are the downtrodden and unfortunate,’ said Kenta earnestly. ‘Perhaps these are lepers, or something similar — whoever they are, it is certain they would not choose to spend their lives begging.’

 

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