The Chimera's Curse

by Julia Golding

  “He is ours,” said Kira finally after a brief consultation with Windfoal.

  “Surely not?” challenged Kinga.

  “Ours,” growled Morjik.

  Tension rippled in the air between the dragon and unicorn like a heat haze. Simon swayed. Connie feared he was going to make a run for it.

  “He cannot be in two places at once!” interrupted Mr. Chan in a clipped, high-pitched voice. “Honorable colleagues, one of you must be wrong.”

  Mack stood up from where he had been lounging against the wall and scratched his head. “Troublemakers, these Lionhearts,” he said to Connie, evidently amused to see the dispute among so august a company.

  On another occasion, Connie might have made a smart response about the Clamworthys, but she was too concerned for her brother. Then she had an idea.

  “Let me stand with him,” she said coming forward. “Let me see if I can confirm his gift.”

  “What do you mean, Connie?” asked Kira.

  “It’s just a skill I seem to have gained. I can now sense where human companions are by their gift,” Connie said in a quiet voice, aware how strange this would sound to her listeners.

  “But that is astounding, Connie,” said Kinga, looking up at Morjik then back at Connie, as if the dragon had confirmed her thoughts. “Why were we not told? How long have you been able to do this?”

  “Since the beginning of the year. Since the shared bond.”

  “You may, of course, try,” said Kinga. “But we must talk further about this.”

  Connie came to stand at her brother’s side. “I’m just going to put my hands on your shoulders, okay?” she said.

  Simon shrugged. But she could tell he was relieved not to be alone any longer in the center of that room. “If you must,” he said in a falsely casual tone.

  Connie ignored this. She closed her eyes, dipping into her mind to see the room through the bonds that filled it, rather than the physical presence of those gathered. She could see the strong silver links of her own bond stretching out along all four points of the compass to the creatures: dragon, bird, unicorn, and dwarf. Then, less distinctly, she could make out the connections between creature and companion. Curiously, she turned her mind to Liam and saw that he was wrapped in a misty chain that, though it stretched to no creature in the room, was the same color as the earthen links that connected Mr. Chan to Jade. Confident now that she knew what she was looking for, Connie rested her hands on Simon and turned her thoughts to his gift. Immediately, she saw it—or really, “them.” Snaking out from his feet toward the Company of Sea Creatures and Reptiles was an orange, swirling ribbon, but a second grass-green rope stretched straight toward the unicorn and the Company of Two- and Four-legged Beasts and Beings.

  “He’s both,” she said simply on opening her eyes again. “Like the chimera, he’s both.”

  “But that’s impossible,” said Kira.

  “No, it isn’t,” Connie replied. “I’m all four. What’s impossible about my brother being bonded to two companies?”

  “But you bond with all creatures, Connie,” said Kira. “He’s only a chimera companion.”

  “Is he?” Connie asked, her eyes now turning to Morjik and Windfoal.

  “The great snakes,” growled Morjik.

  Windfoal whinnied. Kira said: “The Amalthean goats and the Nemean lions.”

  Simon’s confusion had not lifted. “What’re they talking about, Connie?” he asked his sister anxiously.

  “Simon, I don’t think you are a chimera companion,” Connie said, her heart feeling lighter than it had since Simon first sensed the creature, “at least, not just a chimera companion. You also bond with the creatures that produced the chimera—the Amalthean goats, the Nemean lions, and the great snakes.”

  “My friend, you are unique, like your sister here,” said Eagle-Child, staring at Simon as if to read the secret of his strange powers. “I have never heard of a companion bonding with more than one creature—other than the universal.”

  “So what are we to do with him?” asked Kira, looking to Kinga and Morjik.

  “What does the universal advise?” asked Kinga.

  Connie found the answer came easily to her now that the mystery was solved. “Well, if Simon is happy, I think you should place him in the Company of the Two-Fours for now as two of his companions are in that group. You should mentor him on all three species. I don’t think he wants to go any further with the chimera; do you, Simon?”

  Simon shook his head, for once not arguing with something suggested by his sister.

  “Then come,” said Kira, beckoning to the boy. “Sit by Windfoal and me.”

  With the first smile Connie had seen on his face for days, Simon nodded to his sister and went to sit at the western point of the chamber. As if the last piece of a puzzle had just been slotted into place, Connie sensed the energy in the room was once more in balance.

  Mr. Coddrington is just going to love this, she thought, watching Simon pat Windfoal’s neck cautiously. She remembered how the assessor had resented her presence outside the normal four companies; now he had someone who was in two: it would mess up his filing system nicely.

  “All that leaves,” said Connie, looking around the room, “is the question of where I should sit?”

  Col doodled absentmindedly on the test paper, reading through the answers he had written so far. All around him in the wood-paneled room, other candidates were scratching away at their responses. He could just see Jessica’s curly head several rows away bent over her Grade Five sea-craft paper; Shirley was two rows to his right absorbed in her Grade Four storm-raising test, a lock of pale blonde hair dropping over her face, hiding her eyes. He wondered briefly what Grade Four consisted of for weather giant companions: Light wind and rain? Short, sharp showers? Minus points for brewing hurricanes? He hoped somebody had told the examiners about her taste for casting nasty lightning bolts and hail stones, and would deduct points from her as a result. But seeing as the only weather giant companion in Britain apart from Shirley was her mentor, Mr. Coddrington, he supposed it was a done deal that she would get top marks.

  His thoughts turned to Connie. She had looked really tired on the train, lacking her normal sparkle. He hoped the trustees weren’t giving her a hard time about the chimera, as none of it had been her fault. Ever since the attack, he’d been feeling guilty that he had failed to protect her. No one had protected her. Despite its best efforts, the Society had proved unable to keep its universal safe. Col’s pen punctured the paper as he stabbed it in frustration. He couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Connie.

  But this train of thought wasn’t going to get him through the exam.

  With a deliberate effort to calm himself, Col turned back to his answer paper. Only thirty minutes to go but he was making good progress, having covered care and first aid, encounters, and intermediate maneuvers. He’d now reached the final section, which examined flying protocols, the rules of the airways.

  Question Twenty: Name the circumstances in which you can use the Thessalonian Roll, and what safety precautions must always be observed.

  Col had a sudden vivid recollection of Skylark plunging down toward the treetops of Mallins Wood with the Kullervo-pegasus on his tail, but he knew that this was not the answer the examiners were looking for. He put his pen to the blank sheet of paper before him.

  The Thessalonian Roll should only be used after the pegasus and rider have passed their Grade Eight flying exam. It should only be done over water to reduce risk of serious injury if the rider falls off.

  He looked down at the answer. What he had written was a load of garbage. It was the technically correct answer as he had revised it, but it wasn’t the truth. Behavior like that wouldn’t protect the universal when under attack. A spark of rebellion ignited in him as he remembered his confrontation in Mallins Wood, and he picked up his pen again.

  P.S. The roll also comes in useful when avoiding a more agile enemy, such as Kullervo, even if yo
u’ve not got Grade Eight. In these circumstances, soft landings are unlikely to be available so you have to go ahead and do it anyway.

  There, that should wake them up a bit.

  “How was yours, Col?” Jessica asked him as the candidates poured out of the examination hall onto the landing near the library.

  “Okay,” said Col, not committing himself to a more definite answer. He didn’t want to tempt fate by saying that he thought it’d gone well. His only fear was that the examiner might deduct marks for his postscript about Kullervo. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, he thought, now that the rebellious mood had passed. “Yours?”

  Jessica made a face. “Much harder than Grade Four. Some of the questions were really tricky.”

  “I’m sure you did fine,” he said, glancing up at the clock again. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Okay,” said Jessica, a little surprised. “But I was going to the café. Don’t you have time to come?”

  Shirley Masterson arrived at Jessica’s shoulder. “Did someone say ‘café’?” she asked. “I’m dying of thirst. Shall we go?”

  Jessica looked reluctant to be stuck with Shirley on her own. “I was just asking Col if he had time,” she said, looking pleadingly at him and succeeding in making Col feel sorry for her.

  “I’m supposed to be meeting the others.”

  “Others?” inquired Shirley, looking around her to see who else was there from Hescombe.

  “Dad, Connie, and a couple of new members you don’t know.”

  “Should’ve guessed you’d be meeting her,” muttered Shirley.

  Col shrugged. “I’ve gotta go. I might see you in the café later if Connie’s still with the Trustees.” He was rather pleased to see Shirley’s expression sour with envy as she heard that the universal was once again receiving VIP treatment. “See you.” He bounded off down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  When he came into the foyer, he found Mack, Liam, and Simon waiting for him.

  “There you are!” said Mack. “How was the exam?”

  “Fine. So, what happened? Where’s Connie?” Col asked, looking at Simon. He was surprised to see that, though a bit dazed, Simon had cheered up since this morning.

  “Connie’s still talking to those Trustee people—and creatures,” Simon said, grappling with the new language of the Society.

  “And?” prompted Col.

  “I’m a fire imp companion!” said Liam, sparking with excitement.

  “Well, we knew that, didn’t we?” said Col, ruffling the boy’s hair. “That was stating the blindingly obvious, wasn’t it?”

  “And I’m a companion to the great snakes—” began Simon.

  “Not the chimera?” interrupted Col too quickly.

  “Let him finish,” growled Mack. “You’re going to like this.”

  “—and the Nemean lions and Amalthean goats,” concluded Simon proudly, though he was still not quite sure what this all meant.

  “No!” said Col, staring at Simon.

  “Yeah,” said Mack. “Connie found it out. Just as well, or Simon here would’ve been the rope in a tug of war between the unicorn and the dragon. Both wanted him.”

  “And Connie’s still in there?”

  “Yep. I said we’d meet her in the café. Horace and his granddaughter are waiting for us. They want to meet Liam, so does Liam’s mentor. We’d better get along there before they give up on us.”

  As Mack led the way to the south wing of the building and the café on the ground floor, Col followed behind with the two newest members of the Society. He couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard: Simon, companion to more than one creature! It had been shocking enough when Col had first heard of Connie’s gift, but at least universals were a known part of the Society’s history. Simon seemed to be a wild departure from all established rules and practices.

  The café was bright and airy, doors opening along the far wall onto the gardens that ran down to the banks of the Thames. The white-painted wrought-iron tables, laden with homemade cakes and tall cool drinks, the lush potted plants and striped awning over the patio gave the room a summery, celebratory feel. The place was buzzing as Col’s fellow candidates toasted the end of their written papers for that year. Giving Shirley and Jessica a brief wave, Col accompanied his party to a table where Horace and Antonia Little were already seated. Horace, an elderly black man with grizzled white hair, stood up to greet them. His granddaughter, her hair braided in a geometric style, had clearly also just finished her exam as she was gulping down her lemonade while looking back over her question paper. She gave Col a nod of recognition and then looked curiously at the other two boys. With the Littles was a small, bird-like lady with a headscarf. She had the olive-toned skin of someone from the Middle East and did not appear to understand much English when Horace tried to introduce her to the newcomers. Col began to wonder if this lady, Mrs. Khalid, was really the best mentor for Liam that the Society could’ve found.

  “So, Liam,” said Horace genially, “I hear you live near us. I hope you’ll let us come and see you.”

  Liam nodded eagerly, but his eyes kept straying to Mrs. Khalid. Col had the impression that there was some communication going on between the two of them that did not need words.

  “I’ll introduce you to the other Elementals in our area,” said Antonia. “There’s no one exactly your age, but there’s a couple of ten-year-olds.”

  Suddenly, Mrs. Khalid thrust her hand into the pocket of her baggy robe and pulled out a white candle in a stubby earthenware holder. The table fell silent.

  “Lee-am,” she said softly. “Watch.”

  She struck a match and lit the flame expertly, cupping her hands around to protect it from the breeze blowing in through the open doors. Abruptly, a little body of flame ignited, no bigger than a maple leaf, and began to dance in the heart of the candle flame. Mrs. Khalid slid her finger into the fire, and the creature jumped onto her knuckle and curled around it like a burning ring. She removed her finger from the wick and pointed it to the ceiling. The fire imp wound up to the tip of her finger and then danced on the very end, its little arms and legs flickering, sending out golden sparks with each stamp of foot and clap of hands.

  “Wow!” breathed Liam. “Can I have a go?” He leaned forward as if to touch the creature, but Mrs. Khalid gently caught his hand in her free palm.

  “Wait,” she cautioned. “Watch what he do.”

  After exhausting his delight at dancing on the fingertip, the fire imp turned a deeper shade of golden red. His tiny head turned from side to side as if looking for a new vent for his energies. Seeing nowhere to go from his position high in the air—away from any other objects—his tiny ember-bright eyes glittered with annoyance, and he stamped his foot down on the finger that held him aloft.

  “Ouch!” said Mrs. Khalid with a wry smile. Col could tell that she had been expecting this and was not that hurt. She wagged her other index finger at the creature and made a noise that to Col’s ears sounded like the spitting of damp wood on a campfire. “Chtsh! Bad imp.”

  Liam had been transfixed by these small events. “He hurt you?” he asked Mrs. Khalid with surprise.

  She nodded.

  “Why?”

  “He is not my pet. He do not like to be kept in one place. Look, I send him back into air.” With a snap of her fingers, she quenched the flame on her fingertip.

  Liam looked up as if he expected to see the creature hovering over their heads. “Where’s he gone?” he asked.

  “To join brothers and sisters. He do not come back unless I call,” said Mrs. Khalid, leaning forward and blowing out the candle. Looking at her hands resting on the table in front of her, Col noticed that there was a network of shiny red scars. Being a fire imp companion clearly took its toll.

  “So, can I call him?” Liam reached for the candle.

  “Not yet. You learn about danger first. Start small with imps like my friend before dance with big ones again.” Her eyes were seri
ous as she held Liam’s gaze. “You must read signs when mood about to change. Red glow is one, but there are others. I heard you needed golden dragon and universal to save you on your first encounter—”

  “But I wasn’t in danger!” protested Liam. “We’d only just started dancing. It was great!”

  “You in more danger than you know, Lee-am. The universal and her dragon will not always be there for you. You must learn to play safely with fire imps.”

  Liam nodded, his face reflective as he absorbed this new perspective on his adventure. He did not look entirely convinced.

  Col sincerely hoped the lesson had sunk in. He hated to think that this might be the start of Liam’s career as an arsonist as he sought bigger thrills and more danger than he could handle. Mrs. Khalid appeared to have been thinking along the same lines.

  “I have sons,” she said proudly, “but not fire imp companions. Companions to the sylphs and the kelpies, yes, but not to fire imps. You be my fire imp son?”

  “You’ll teach me all this?” Liam asked Mrs. Khalid, his face glowing as if she had conjured a fire inside him.

  “I teach. You meet my sons. They are good boys. Bigger than you. Twelve and fourteen. They look after you on streets when you come to my house. I send them for you. I live not far from you. Come have meal with us after school on Wednesdays. You learn then.”

  “Brilliant!” said Liam.

  Col smiled, an image popping into his mind of Mrs. Khalid cooking surrounded by fire imps. He had been wrong. The Trustees had clearly known exactly what they were doing when they chose Mrs. Khalid as Liam’s mentor. The boy now had a whole new surrogate family. With the Littles also close by, Liam had become attached to an extended network of friends. All of them would look out for him; Col didn’t need to worry about Liam anymore.

  7

  Guy de Chauliac

  Connie sat cross-legged in the center of the compass in the Chamber of Counsel.