by Garth Nix
‘Yes, it was,’ Kyle snapped back.
‘We went fossil-hunting on Mermaid Point three years ago,’ retorted Miralda. ‘Whale-watching was four years ago.’
‘Actually, it was three years ago,’ said one of the other kids, and then all the locals who’d been at the school long enough started arguing about whether they had gone whale-watching four or three years ago, and whether or not the branch had fallen that year, or in fact some other year, when the bus was leaving for some different excursion.
‘I guess you have to find your own excitement in a small town,’ Tara whispered to Jaide.
‘Whatever’s happening on the bridge is enough for me,’ said Jaide. ‘I wish we could see what’s happening.’
‘Can’t be too big, or we’d have to evacuate,’ said Jack. ‘I mean, if it was a gas tanker that was going to explode or something.’
‘There are a lot of sirens,’ said Jaide. ‘And Mum’s helicopter, so someone must be badly hurt. Maybe lots of people.’
‘You know, I thought I heard something before the sirens,’ said Tara. ‘A kind of thudding noise, like when a big truck goes past and shakes everything a bit. Just for a second.’
‘I didn’t hear anything,’ said Jack. ‘I was totally concentrating on the maths questions.’
‘Yeah, sure,’ said Jaide. ‘You were practically asleep. I saw you.’
Jack shrugged. His twin knew him too well. He had finished the problems ages ago and had been daydreaming, imagining himself using his Gift, merging into the shadow by the wall and escaping from school.
‘I suppose we had better do these questions,’ said Tara to Jaide. ‘They won’t go away on their own.’
The students were bent over their papers – all except Jack, who had moved on to imagining increasingly unlikely accidents to explain the unusual events in Portland that morning – when Mr Carver came back into the room a few minutes later. He was talking on his phone.
‘So there is no danger to the school? Good, good. What exactly . . . ? Into the river? Yes, of course I know . . . oh my . . . oh my . . . oh dear!’
Jack and Jaide were not looking up, or they would have seen Mr Carver suddenly stare at them with an expression they all knew well. His forehead had wrinkled and his mouth flattened into a straight, sincere line.
Tara saw it. She nudged Jaide.
‘You just got the Caring Sharing Face from Heath.’
‘What?’ asked Jaide. All of a sudden she felt a stab of fear. The helicopter . . . her mother! But the helicopter had landed fine. Why would they be the object of Mr Carver’s Caring Sharing Face?
Mr Carver put his phone away and carefully walked among the desks, over to where Jack and Jaide sat.
‘Class, continue with your work,’ he said brightly. ‘Jack and Jaide, could you please come with me to my office? There’s something I’d like you to help me with.’
Jack and Jaide stood up and started to gather their books.
‘No, no, leave everything and come along,’ said Mr Carver.
He opened the door and gestured to them to go in front of him. Out in the corridor, Jack stopped and said, ‘What’s going on? Is Mum all right?’
‘Yes, I’m sure she’s fine,’ said Mr Carver quickly. He made some tentative gestures again, as if he was trying to herd ducklings into his office. ‘Just step inside and I’ll tell you when you’re sitting down.’
‘We were sitting down before,’ said Jaide, as she and her brother sat uneasily on the shiny orange-and-yellow lounge.
Mr Carver perched himself on the corner of his desk and fiddled with a small Tibetan prayer wheel, flicking it till the bells began to jangle.
‘Yes, but this is . . . what I have to tell you . . . it’s best not in class. No, I think more suitable that you be sitting together . . . you may even want to, in fact I think it’s a good idea if you hold your brother’s hand, Jaide—’ ‘Just tell us!’ both twins said at once.
‘I’m not sure, I don’t have all the details, but it seems that about twenty minutes ago, a car was forced off the road just before the iron bridge, into the river . . .’
He spun the prayer wheel more forcefully.
‘So?’ asked Jack, now extremely puzzled. ‘What car went into the river . . . ?’
‘A yellow car, an old yellow car,’ whispered Mr Carver.
It felt as if time froze for the twins, as if everything stopped. For a long second, neither of them could move, or think, or speak, and then everything started again, and Mr Carver was gabbling about ‘your wonderful grandmother’ but it was meaningless. All they could think about was Grandma X’s old yellow car going into the river, taking Grandma X down with it, down into the muddy depths . . .
‘But . . . but it couldn’t . . . it couldn’t happen,’ Jaide said finally.
‘No,’ agreed Jack. ‘No way.’
‘I know it is difficult to comprehend,’ said Mr Carver. ‘Fate is fickle, and in accidents such as these, anything can occur—’ ‘No,’ said Jaide. ‘You don’t understand. Grandma X is . . . is special.’
She couldn’t say what she really wanted to say. That Grandma X had magical Gifts, and wisdom, and . . .
There was the clatter of boots in the hall, and then all of a sudden the twins’ mother was in the doorway. Mr Carver stood up nervously, but she ignored him and dashed to the children.
‘Jack, Jaide!’
The twins moved into Susan’s hug as if she was a lifebelt thrown to them at sea. She hugged them just as tightly for a moment, then eased them back.
‘Is . . . is she dead?’ asked Jaide. She could hardly get the words out, or keep back the tears that were suddenly welling up in her eyes.
‘No,’ said Susan. ‘But the car was in the river for some time, and they’ve just got it out and she’s still inside. She is conscious, which is a very good sign. We’ll be flying her to the hospital as soon as they can . . . get her free. I just ran over to tell you that Rodeo Dave is on his way, and he’ll drive you to the hospital. I’ll be there, of course.’
‘Which hospital?’ asked Jack. He looked at Jaide, and she knew what he was thinking: Grandma X might have to be taken beyond the wards, and neither of them knew what effect that might have.
Grandma X was the Warden of Portland, charged with secretly protecting the world from The Evil, a terrible force from another dimension. If it hadn’t have been for the Wardens, the world would have been taken over long ago. Jack and Jaide were going to be Wardens one day, but for now they were troubletwisters, young Wardens whose Gifts were unreliable and occasionally dangerous, despite the best efforts of their grandmother to teach them how to use them. The first time their Gifts had appeared, the twins had accidentally blown up their house in the city and been forced to move away from the life they had always known.
Their grandmother was strict and knew a lot more about everything than she ever let on, including her name. They just called her Grandma X, while everyone else mumbled when they had to call her anything. The twins had been in Portland for months now, constantly learning about their Gifts and their new responsibilities, but sometimes it seemed as though they had barely begun. There was still so much they didn’t understand.
Would the four wards of Portland, which kept The Evil from breaking into the world, still work if the Warden in charge of them left?
What would happen if she died?
‘She’ll go to Scarborough, of course,’ said Susan, ignorant of their concerns. She didn’t like being reminded of the legacy the twins had inherited from their father, and Grandma X had ‘encouraged’ her ability to forget. ‘Better facilities. Not to demean Portland Hospital, but—’
Her walkie-talkie crackled and a voice said, ‘Sue! Almost there. Three minutes.’
‘On my way!’ Susan replied. She hugged the twins again. ‘I have to go. She’ll be okay, I’m sure of it. She’s the toughest person I know!’
She turned quickly to Mr Carver. ‘Dave Smeaton from the Book Herd is authorised t
o pick the children up. He’ll be here in a moment.’
With one last hug and one last look to the twins, she was gone.
The next five minutes were very long. Mr Carver spun the prayer wheel one more time, then put it down and picked up his nose flute, but he put that down again without playing anything. He opened his mouth to say something, and nothing came out. Finally, he got up and slid through the door, pausing to mutter something about ‘leaving you to your thoughts’ and ‘must get back to class’.
As soon as he was gone, Jack and Jaide started whispering furiously to each other.
‘She’ll be okay,’ said Jack. ‘She probably wasn’t even really hurt. Right?’
‘But a hospital, Jack. They’re flying her to Scarborough! Shouldn’t we do something?’
‘We should call Dad,’ they said together.
‘But we don’t know where he is,’ Jack pointed out.
‘Custer!’ said Jaide, thinking of their father’s old friend. ‘Custer will know.’
‘We don’t know how to get in touch with him, either. Or the other Wardens. Grandma X does all that.’
‘Mum must have a number for Dad,’ said Jaide, but she didn’t sound very convinced.
‘He always loses his phone,’ said Jack glumly. ‘And he’s usually somewhere weird anyway, where nothing works. But he might have, you know, secret Warden ways of knowing stuff. Maybe Grandma X sent him a . . . a thought message . . . or something.’
‘I cannot reach your father,’ said a faint voice behind the twins, apparently emanating from the wall. Jack and Jaide leaped off the lounge as if it was suddenly red-hot.
Behind them, on the wall, was a faint image of their grandmother. She didn’t look young like she usually did when her spirit form appeared, and it didn’t look three-dimensional. This was more like a blurry photo being projected onto the wallpaper. Her white hair was even messier than it was every morning. Her eyelids fluttered.
‘I am somewhat injured,’ said Grandma X. ‘But I will be all right, so you don’t need to worry.’
‘But they’re taking you to Scarborough!’ exclaimed Jaide. ‘What will that do to the wards?’
‘They are not taking me to Scarborough,’ said the blurry image with familiar stubbornness. ‘Shortly, they will decide that it is better to take me somewhere closer, even if the facilities are not so advanced. Portland Hospital will fit the bill perfectly.’
Her eyelids closed completely, but not before the twins saw her eyes roll back upwards, into her head.
‘Are you really okay?’ asked Jack anxiously.
‘I have a concussion . . . and my body was affected by the cold of the river,’ said Grandma X, her eyes opening again. ‘I don’t have much time. Custer will monitor the wards. I don’t expect trouble, but if anything does come up, and Custer is not available, you can . . . Ow! . . . Be careful . . .’
Grandma X’s voice was cut off, and the image disappeared.
‘Hello, you two,’ said Rodeo Dave from the doorway behind them. The twins spun around again, uncertain how long he’d been there. He bobbed his head and said, ‘All ready to go? Scarborough Hospital, your mother said.’
‘Uh, yeah, thanks,’ said Jack. ‘Only, maybe we should check first—’
Dave’s phone rang.
‘Hang on, Jack. Dave here . . . Oh, right . . . No problem. We’re on our way.’
He put the phone away and said to the twins, ‘Not Scarborough General. Portland Hospital. We’ll be there in a jiffy. Come on!’
The helicopter lifted off as they got to Dave’s white van, which he used to pick up and deliver books. They all piled in the front and, after reminding him about his seatbelt, they drove out onto River Road.
‘We’ll have to go the long way,’ said Dave. ‘The bridge will be closed for a while.’
The twins peered past the willows to the bridge, which was surrounded by emergency vehicles. At the southern end, the crane truck that usually worked at the marina was up on its supports, with a chain going down to the battered, mud-strewn wreck of a yellow Hillman Minx that had been pulled out of the river.
Seeing the car made it all seem more horribly real. Jack had to look away, and Jaide found herself the victim of a sudden attack of the shivers.
‘Your grandmother will be fine,’ said Dave, noting both of these events. He leaned across and opened the glove box. ‘Grab a couple of the sweets there. You’ve both had a nasty shock.’
The sweets were like nothing the twins had ever seen before – old-fashioned boiled things wrapped in paper that was hard to remove. Concentrating on getting the paper off took up most of the trip to the hospital.
Susan was waiting for them in the lobby.
‘Grandma is okay,’ she said. ‘We were worried for a moment, but she rallied as soon as we got her here. That’s amazing for someone who’s been through a major accident.’
‘Can we see her?’ asked Jaide, as Jack said, ‘Is she awake?’
‘The doctors are with her now,’ said Susan. ‘They’re going to keep her in Critical Care until tomorrow morning, probably. They may still have to move her to Scarborough. As for what happened . . . it’s not that clear. She told Officer Haigh a truck or a van came up fast behind her, tried to overtake her before the bridge, and then cut back in unexpectedly, forcing her off the road and into the river.’
‘And the truck didn’t stop?’ asked Jack. ‘Wow, that’s mean.’
‘More than mean,’ said Susan. ‘It’s criminal. The police will be looking for it. But don’t worry about that. I’m going to need your help. Things are going to be a bit complicated at home for a while. I can’t get someone to cover me immediately – you know how we’re always shorthanded – so you’ll be by yourselves a bit more than usual. I will be home tonight, though. Maybe we can find someone to check in on you until my shift is over.’
‘What about Tara?’ asked Jaide. ‘We could hang out with her.’
‘Yes, good idea. I’ll give her father a call . . . but we can’t rely on them every night.’
Rodeo Dave, who had until that moment been occupied with grooming his thick moustache, cleared his throat.
‘Renita Daniels – that is, Rennie – has been helping me out at the shop,’ he said. ‘I’ve let her have the small apartment up top, and I’m sure she’d be happy to . . . uh . . . babysit, if you pardon the term, Jaide, Jack . . .’
Susan nodded with relief. ‘Thank you, Dave. And thanks for bringing the twins here. Can I ask you to take them back to school as well? I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Of course not.’ He winked at them. ‘It’s a pleasure.’
‘Oh, and I should have said before how sorry I was to hear about Young Master Rourke. He was a friend of yours, wasn’t he?’
‘He was,’ said Dave, his face falling. ‘He bought a lot of books from me over the years. In fact, I’m heading up there the day after tomorrow, to catalogue his collection for the executors.’
‘Young Master who?’ asked Jack.
‘What happened to him?’ added Jaide.
‘We’ll talk about it later,’ said Susan. ‘Now, remember, Grandma X is very fit and strong . . . for someone her age. So don’t worry . . . honest—’
She was interrupted by three quick bursts of sound from her walkie-talkie. Not words, just the crackle.
‘Got to go! Love you!’
There was a whirlwind embrace, then she was off.
‘Okay,’ said Dave. His smile returned as though it had never vanished. ‘Your chariot awaits.’
CHAPTER TWO
An Unexpected Encounter
FOUR HOURS LATER, WATER WAS dripping from the edge of the umbrella Jack Shield held and trickling right down the back of his sister’s neck. Jaide shuddered and tugged her collar tight up to her throat, pulling her head in as best she could. She could see nothing outside the umbrella but sods of disturbed earth, the mud-spattered feet of the adults walking around them, and the base of a heavy, grey stone wall three yards a
way. The rain continued to stream down on them, far heavier than it had been back in the town.
‘Remind me what we’re doing here?’ she grumbled.
‘You suggested it,’ said Jack. ‘You asked Mum if we could hang out with Tara.’
‘But this wasn’t what I was expecting!’
They were standing next to a life-size castle – a real one, to all appearances, with turrets and a portcullis, and even a deep moat filled with murky brown water. Nearby were a number of smaller buildings scattered on the edge of a large and even murkier lake. A squat pyramid peeked around the shoulder of a low hill.
‘Dad says this is one of the most important landmarks in Portland,’ Tara said, coming up behind them. She had her own umbrella, a purple-spotted thing that looked brand-new, vastly different to the moth-eaten black antique the twins had found in the back of Tara’s car. It leaked, and two people couldn’t quite fit under it, but Jaide told herself it was better than nothing. ‘He knew you’d love to see it since you’re interested in old buildings and stuff.’
‘Er, right.’
It was Jaide’s turn to want to kick her brother, this time for the ridiculous lie he had come up with to explain their former interest in Tara’s father, a property developer. It had meant long lectures on the renovation potential of old warehouses and barracks and being dragged about in all manner of weather, whether they asked to go or not.
‘You know, Jaide, it is pretty cool,’ said Jack, peering out and up at the castle wall, tipping the umbrella in the process and sending another wave of water straight into Jaide’s right ear. ‘There was nothing like this in the city.’
Jaide braved the rain to take another look. The side of the castle seemed to go up forever, broken only every now and again by a narrow, slit-like window, for archers to fire from. Jaide didn’t think there had ever been a need for archers in Portland, but there probably hadn’t been any need for a moat, either.
‘Young Master Rourke lived here?’ she asked.
‘Not here exactly. He was in that little building we passed, by the gates.’
‘And he really just died?’ Jack asked, thinking of the sadness in Rodeo Dave’s eyes and the weirdness of their present position. They had only just heard about Young Master Rourke, and now here they were, exploring where he had used to live.