The Serpents of Arakesh
Page 21
We looked at one another, the same thought in all our minds.
White-faced, Kenta slipped the straps of her backpack off her narrow shoulders and set it down on one of the desks. She undid the toggle and drew out the parchment, unrolling it and sliding it carefully from between its protective covers.
It was completely blank.
Reaching into the bag again, Kenta pulled out my shawl. Her hands trembling slightly, she untucked the ends and opened it out.
There among its soft folds, safe and intact, lay the phials containing the Potion of Power … and the Potion of Healing.
Because he had been waiting for me last time, I’d expected Q to be sitting in the computer room, watching the clock for our return. But he wasn’t there.
We trailed to the door and out into the corridor. There was no sign of anyone. The passageway was dark and silent, with that echoing emptiness that settles on houses at night when everyone has gone to bed.
The sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the hall was as loud as footsteps in the silence. As we passed, it wheezed, and struck once. Half past ten.
‘What should we do?’ whispered Jamie. ‘It looks like everyone’s gone to bed. But it’s not that late, and … I’m hungry.’
I had a hollow feeling too, but it was disappointment, not hunger. It was so unlike Q not to be waiting for us. It seemed odd that he would just have gone off to bed, leaving us to blunder back to a dark house and no welcome. The clock ticked on, counting the seconds away.
Suddenly, I knew.
‘Quick — he’s with Hannah. We have to be quick!’
I turned and ran up the stairs, with the others behind me. Left at the top, along the dark passage to Hannah’s door. I could hear the blood thumping in my ears. Silently, I eased the door open. Someone groped for my other hand. It was Kenta. She slid something into it — something cold and smooth that tingled.
Across the room Q was hunched over beside the bed. The soft nightlight illuminated his face. He looked like an old, old man. I felt Richard’s hand in the small of my back, giving a gentle shove. Hesitantly, I walked forward into the room.
Everything looked the same: the clown picture on the wall, the rocking horse in the corner, the dolls’ house, the cuddly toys arranged on the armchair in the corner. It was tidier than a little girl’s room ought to be.
I walked softly across the carpet to the bed. Q looked up at me like a man in a dream, with no sign of surprise. He gave me a slow smile, the saddest smile I’d ever seen. ‘Welcome home, Adam. You’re just in time to say goodbye.’
I looked down at the little figure in the bed. The tubes were gone. The battered teddy lay beside her on the pillow. Death hovered in the room like a grey angel.
‘Take her hand, Adam.’
I put my big, rough paw round the little hand that lay curled on the sheet. It was very cold. Her eyes fluttered open and rested on me for a moment. I couldn’t tell whether she even recognised me. They drifted shut again.
‘Q,’ I whispered, my voice sounding rough as sandpaper in the stillness, ‘we’ve got it. Look.’
I opened my hand.
‘She’s still — there’s still time, isn’t there?’ My eyes scanned the bedside table. It was cluttered with bottles and tumblers and containers of pills.
I reached for a plastic medicine measure. I eased the cork out of the neck of the phial, and carefully filled the spoon. There was still half the potion left. I replaced the cork, to keep it safe. I had no idea how much we needed. I had no idea if it would even work.
I felt a sudden pang of unease, and pushed the memory of the silver serpents to the back of my mind. A voice spoke harshly in my mind. She’s dying anyway. This is what it was all for. Do it now.
I glanced across at Q, who made a helpless, fluttering motion with his hands.
Gently, as if I was lifting a newborn kitten, I slid my arm round Hannah’s shoulders and raised her up. It was like lifting a bundle of dry sticks wrapped in velvet. Her head flopped. I lifted the spoon to her parched, cracked lips.
‘Hannah,’ I whispered urgently, ‘open your mouth. It’s medicine. It will make you well again. You have to have it.’
The tiniest frown flickered across her face, and her lips tightened. Hannah had obviously had enough of medicine. But my heart lifted. The spunky Hannah I knew was still in there, faded faint as a shadow.
‘You have to! Come on!’
But her lips stayed stubbornly closed. A wave of panic rose up in my chest like bile. If she refused to take it …
‘Hannah, come on!’ Just as I’d done with Tiger Lily and the bird, I cupped my hand under her jaw, felt for the twin ridges of teeth under the fragile skin, and gently squeezed. She gave a little mew, like a kitten, and her mouth opened a tiny crack.
Quickly, I slipped the spoon in and tilted it. And at the same time, I tipped her head back, to stop her spitting it out.
Hannah hiccuped and coughed. She made a rattling, gurgling sound … and she stopped breathing. My heart turned to ice. She was choking. I wanted to shake her — to shout at her and shake her and force her to be well. I wanted to fold her in my arms and hold her close, and let my strength soak through into her frail little body. I wanted to turn the clock back and leave her to drift into death peacefully, instead of choking her on snake venom from an alien world.
I lowered her gently back onto the pillow, held her hand and prayed.
She gave another little cough. A tiny translucent bubble popped out onto her lip and sparkled there, as iridescent as mother-of-pearl in the soft light. And as I watched, the dry, cracked lip under the bubble smoothed over. It was a dewdrop on a rose petal.
Hannah’s lips parted, and she gave a deep sigh. Her eyes opened.
‘Q,’ she whispered, ‘I’m thirsty. Is there any lime juice?’
She struggled to sit up, but she was so weak she wobbled and fell back on the pillow, like a newborn foal. ‘I feel like fish fingers, with lots of tomato sauce. And jelly,’ she told us from the pillow, a dreamy look on her face. ‘Strawberry jelly, with hundreds and thousands.’
Epilogue
It was after breakfast the next day, and my mind was hazy with the sweetness of waffles and maple syrup, and the warmth of the golden sunlight pouring in through the window.
Sitting at my desk in the computer room, I linked my hands above my head and stretched until my shoulders creaked.
Outside in the garden, I could hear the others calling to each other and laughing, and occasional shrieks from the girls. It reminded me of another time — a time that seemed very long ago. I smiled to myself. Part of me wanted to run out and join them, but I could do that later. Right now, I had something more important to do.
Carefully, I smoothed out the e-mail address Cameron had given me. It was a bit smudged, but I could just about still read it. Double-checking every letter, I typed it in. Then, frowning with concentration, I wrote: Hey ther Camarun. Gess wot? I mayd it!
For a moment, I could almost see him — the goofy smile, the coke-bottle glasses. My friend. One of my friends.
Searching for the next letter on the keyboard, my eyes were drawn to the three keys.
Alt. Control. Q.
Already it was hard to believe it had really happened. That I could go back again, if I simply reached out and pressed them.
It would be that easy.
They drew my fingers like a magnet.
I took a deep breath, and gave myself a mental shake. The adventure was over. So why did I have such a strange feeling that for me, it was just beginning?
THE KARAZAN QUARTET
by V.M. Jones
Adam Equinox and his four friends believe they’ve said farewell to the fantasy world of Karazan forever.
But they couldn’t be more wrong.
When Hannah Quested falls into the cruel hands of King Karazeel, Adam, Richard, Jamie, Kenta and Gen must attempt to rescue her, undertaking the most perilous journey of all: beyond the shroud to Sh
akesh, the hidden stronghold of the evil king himself.
Within the grim walls of Shakesh a mistake is made that will have consequences more terrible than the five could ever imagine …
And with the release of Quentin Quested’s final computer game, Power Quest to Karazan, an unforeseen and catastrophic chain of events is set in motion, leaving two worlds teetering on the brink of destruction.
Adam and his friends are catapulted into a series of adventures more challenging and hazardous than any they have ever faced. Questions must be answered, secrets revealed, and solutions found to the mysteries that lie at the very heart of Karazan … before it is too late.
The Serpents of Arakesh will be followed by three further titles in the Karazan Quartet:
Beyond the Shroud
Prince of the Wind
Quest for the Sun
Buddy
Josh Cranford loves running, soccer, cricket — anything, as long as it’s sport. Most of all he loves to win. Just one person stands in his way: super-jock Shane Hunter. They clash head to head in everything, and Shane always comes out best.
Then along comes an off-the-wall new teacher, and a wicked new challenge: the Energex Iron Kid Triathlon. The perfect chance to take Shane on and come out on top. Except Josh can’t swim. If he’s going to enter the triathlon, he’ll have to overcome his fear of water … and confront a secret buried too deep in his past to think about.
Josh’s decision triggers the most important six weeks of his life — not only must he learn to swim; he has to learn to deal with his dad’s new live-in partner, Suzanne. And then there’s his biggest and most painful secret of all … Buddy.
Juggling With Mandarins
Pip’s not like his big brother, Nick, the ace sportsman, the one with guts. Pip’s his mother’s son — skinny and blond, with a nose that turns pink and peels in summer; good at English, but not much else. Not much that matters to Dad, anyhow.
Then Pip stumbles across a gift he never dreamed he had. He pursues his new passion in secret, determined it will remain one area of his life his dad can’t touch.
But it can’t stay secret forever. Somehow, Pip must find the courage to confront his father and claim the right to live his life on his own terms. And then there’s Katie, the girl next door …
For Pip, growing up is a complicated juggling act — a lot harder than it looks. Will he manage to keep all the mandarins in the air … or will he drop the lot?
Copyright
HarperCollinsPublishers
First published in 2003
This edition published in 2012
by HarperCollinsPublishers (New Zealand) Limited
www.harpercollins.com.nz
Copyright © V.M. Jones 2003
The right of V.M. Jones to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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National Library of New Zealand Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
Jones. V.M. (Victoria Mary), 1958-
The serpents of Arakesh: book one of the Karazan quartet / V.M. Jones
ISBN 978-1-86950-477-9 (pbk)
ISBN 978-0-7304-9916-9 (epub)
[1. Orphans—Fiction. 2. Emotional problems—Fiction. 3. Computer games—Fiction.] I. Jones, V.M. (Victoria Mary).
1958-I. Title, II. Jones, V.M. (Victoria Mary), 1958-The Karazan quartet; bk, 1.
NZ823.2—dc 21