The Merlin Conspiracy
Page 38
“NOW FOR CHANGES,” the dragon said.
I am not sure what he did. I heard his wings thunder. Then things went different. About ninety degrees different, and then stuck there. Magic was different, all over everywhere.
RODDY
I had cast magic loose; the dragon fixed it again. He turned the vortex through a quarter circle and sealed it that way. I felt the change, but I was watching my grandfather Gwyn ride away out into the distance, dark against the snow, with a long line of people trudging after the horses, getting smaller and smaller. He had never looked at me once. Knowing what I know about him, I suppose that was a good thing, but I had wanted him to see me. I wanted him to give me at least a look of approval. But he just rode away.
I blinked. The tears in my eyes seemed to have got into the landscape. All the melting snow was winking rainbow colors in the low sun and flaring off the white slabs of snow along the trilithons of Stonehenge. Stonehenge was back in the same world with us now. I looked where I had seen—or thought I saw—Salisbury and Old Sarum, and there was no sign of them. That was when I realized how much the magic had changed. It was going to be much harder to see things or do things now. As far as I could tell, that went for all the other worlds, too.
The dragon was gone. I was almost the only person standing in that flaring, melting landscape.
Everyone seemed to have run away or driven off. In the distance the King’s two limousines and one of the buses were bumping over the grass to the road, but there were a lot of empty cars and buses left behind. One was the car we had come here in. Dora had gone. Some witches had given her a lift back to London.
The three boys were sitting beside a rusty old bucket not far away, all very bedraggled. Nick kept shaking and jerking. As soon as I saw him, Rosemary came into my head, healing. I was so relieved I nearly cried again. I had carefully not looked for the hurt woman’s knowledge, in case I had lost it in the vortex. I dragged myself over to Nick, running through the Rosemary file to see what would help him.
Before I got there, people shouted from up the hill, and the elephant came treading cautiously down from the direction of Stonehenge. Romanov was riding on the elephant’s neck, and in the seat swaying on her back, leaning out anxiously on either side, were Mam and Dad. Grandad—my sane, mortal grandad Hyde—was riding with them, and so was Mrs. Candace.
“Magic has changed here, too,” Romanov remarked. The elephant stopped, and he slid down onto her bent-up leg. “We got held up in the changes,” he said as he reached the slushy ground. “Sorry about that.”
He helped the others down. While my parents were hugging me, Grandad had one arm around Toby and the other hand on Nick’s shoulder. “What’s up with you, lad?” At this, Romanov looked at Nick and moved in, too. They had him feeling better in moments, without my having to try using the changed magic. At least they got Nick’s body right, but Grandad says it will take much longer to heal his mind. “Don’t look so chagrined, Roddy,” Grandad said to me. “Romanov and I are used to working in changing conditions.” Then he got out of the way because the elephant trampled in and twined her trunk delightedly round Nick.
“I thought you were inside that dome when it collapsed!” I kept saying to my parents. “I’m so glad!”
Then I found Mrs. Candace beside me. She leaned on Dad’s arm, looking terribly tired but still amazingly elegant. “Your mother has been telling me how much she wishes you didn’t have to live with the Progress,” she said, staring into my eyes with her own peculiarly luminous green-blue ones. She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I wondered when I first saw you, and now I’m sure. You are my next Lady of Governance, child. You must come and live with me and learn the ways of it.”
Mam let out a wail at that. “That wasn’t what I meant! Oh, I knew something like this would happen if I let my horrible old father get his hands on her!”
“It’s all right, Mam,” I said. “He only showed me how to find out about things.”
Mrs. Candace said, “It will take me some weeks to recover from that ghastly cavern, or whatever it was, and to get used to this shift in the magics. She can come to me in a month’s time.”
“Fine,” said Dad, before Mam could raise more outcries. He was looking around, sniffing the air and frowning. “I’d better join the Court at once. Unless I get to my weather table soon, there’s going to be a serious shift in the climate.”
“I think your weather table’s still here,” I said. “I can see the lorry where they usually pack it.”
“Excellent!” said my father, and he dashed over to the lorry at once, sliding and sending up showers of slush in his hurry.
Grandad Hyde had seen his own car standing where Dora had left it. He rubbed his hands together with pleasure. “If she’s left the keys in, fine,” he said. “If not, it’ll have to be Magid methods. Nick, Toby, come along. Let’s get to London before nightfall if we can.”
Nick untwined the elephant’s trunk from his neck regretfully. “I wish I could come with you,” he said to Romanov. “I want to be a free operator like you.”
Romanov looked thoroughly taken aback. Then he shrugged. “If you want. I’m going to be taking my son with me anyway.”
He nodded at Grundo. Grundo, in that way that he has, had somehow caused everyone to forget him. He had collected a heap of things that people had dropped—combs, hairpins, paper, pens, coins, some glowing rowanberries, and even a fiery little brooch that must have been dropped by the Count of Blest’s people—and he was busy building them into a long, wavery tower. Actually, he had made it rather beautiful, like a mad sculpture. “I can work with this new magic,” he said when he saw us looking at him. “It’s much easier.”
Grandad Hyde frowned down at Grundo’s artwork. “I don’t think you can take him, you know,” he said to Romanov. “I suspect he’s likely to be the next Merlin. This one won’t last long. Not up to strength, really, you know.”
Romanov frowned, too. “Only if he wants the post,” he said. “They wanted me for the Merlin once, and I know how that feels.” He and Grandad directed their frowns at one another. It was quite a clash. “I’m not leaving him with Sybil, whatever you want,” Romanov said. “Where is Sybil, by the way?”
“Gone,” Nick said. “Ap Nud took her.”
Romanov tried to look sober and sorry, but his face bent into wholly new zigzags of relief and delight, however he tried. “Well, well,” he settled for saying. “Then I’ll have to take him, but we can visit you—once a month, if you want.”
Grandad was not pleased, but he had no chance to say so because the square brown car came slewing and sliding across the grass then to take Mrs. Candace home. Old Sarum was at its wheel. He scowled and scrunched his face up at me. That made me laugh. I don’t know if Old Sarum meant to do this, but he made me feel a lot better about being separated from everyone I knew. I went and helped Mrs. Candace politely into the car.
“I’ll be along to collect you next month, child,” she said before she was driven away.
Grandad was just rounding on Romanov again to restart their argument when Stonehenge suddenly became full of people. The first one to slip between the stones and start toward us was the real Merlin, grinning shyly at Romanov. But Heppy was close behind him. We heard her parrot voice even before we saw her.
“But this is the Henge! How does he suppose we’re going to get home from here, Jude, that’s what I want to know! It’s miles away!”
The Izzys were only too evidently with her. “Oh, I love that Merlin!” their voices trilled. “His chin is so weak!”
My grandfather was galvanized. “Quick!” he said. “Into my car, Nick, Toby, Grundo, Roddy—all of you. I’ll have Roddy for the month, Annie. Can you stay and sort things out here?” he asked Romanov over one shoulder as he rushed to the car. “Come and fetch whichever boys you want in a month’s time.”
That was typical Grandad, getting his own way in spite of everything. Romanov actually laughed as we drove away.
NICK
I’ve done what Maxwell Hyde wanted—he says his Upper Room needs to see this—but I still feel, well, maimed. It was not so much what Japheth did, although that hurt like crazy; it was being sort of invaded by someone else’s hatred. And I can’t get over the way such small things led to such incredibly large, violent events. It’s like the way I told that old man in Loggia City that his tapestry was beautiful, and that destroyed the city. I answered the phone to Sybil, and that seems to have set her on to grab power and make her conspiracy. And I laughed at Japheth. That was all I did.
Maxwell Hyde said, when I told him this, that large things often do hinge on very small incidents. “And I don’t believe for a moment your laughing at him set that Japheth on to murder his Prayermaster,” he said. “I’d very much like to know what other criminal activities those two got up to between rushing off in that flier and turning up just recently.”
I got up the courage to ask him what had happened to Joel then. “Well,” he said, “I was fighting my way out of a skein of cotton wool at the time, but I got the impression that a spotted cat of some kind tore him to bits. The creature was covered with blood when I saw it. But don’t tell Roddy. It’s not the kind of thing she can take.”
He may be right, although Roddy is actually quite tough. I got to know her quite well, in a subdued sort of way, this last month. The trouble with Roddy is that she is too eaten up inside with magic. It’s going to take me years to get through to her. But I’m going to keep trying. The problem is, I don’t know quite how I shall manage it, what with her being on Blest and me being on Earth. I shall have to go back to see Dad. He needs looking after. I see that now. I shouldn’t have blurted out to Romanov that I wanted to go with him.
But I do want to see Romanov and get him to teach me, even though Romanov is bound to be ten times more demanding than Maxwell Hyde. I do want to be a free operator like Romanov. Much as I like Maxwell Hyde, I keep running up against his limits. In the last resort, he always has to do what his bosses in the Upper Room want, and I don’t think I could stand that. I’d go mad after six months.
There was a noise in the street. I went to look and saw Mrs. Candace getting out of that brown car. I shall have to go down and say good-bye to Roddy. But the noise was from the ring of kids standing round Mini. Romanov has come to fetch Grundo, too. I have to go and explain to him that I’m not going with Grundo, not yet, and make an arrangement to get to his island later. I’ll go when I’ve made sure that my dad will be all right for the rest of his life.
Read on for an excerpt from Howl’s Moving Castle
Chapter One
IN WHICH SOPHIE TALKS TO HATS
In the land of Ingary, where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of three. Everyone knows you are the one who will fail first, and worst, if the three of you set out to seek your fortunes.
Sophie Hatter was the eldest of three sisters. She was not even the child of a poor woodcutter, which might have given her some chance of success! Her parents were well to do and kept a ladies’ hat shop in the prosperous town of Market Chipping. True, her own mother died when Sophie was two years old and her sister Lettie was one year old, and their father married his youngest shop assistant, a pretty blonde girl called Fanny. Fanny shortly gave birth to the third sister, Martha. This ought to have made Sophie and Lettie into Ugly Sisters, but in fact all three girls grew up very pretty indeed, though Lettie was the one everyone said was most beautiful. Fanny treated all three girls with the same kindness and did not favor Martha in the least.
Mr. Hatter was proud of his three daughters and sent them all to the best school in town. Sophie was the most studious. She read a great deal, and very soon realized how little chance she had of an interesting future. It was a disappointment to her, but she was still happy enough, looking after her sisters and grooming Martha to seek her fortune when the time came. Since Fanny was always busy in the shop, Sophie was the one who looked after the younger two. There was a certain amount of screaming and hair-pulling between those younger two. Lettie was by no means resigned to being the one who, next to Sophie, was bound to be the least successful.
“It’s not fair!” Lettie would shout. “Why should Martha have the best of it just because she was born the youngest? I shall marry a prince, so there!”
To which Martha always retorted that she would end up disgustingly rich without having to marry anybody.
Then Sophie would have to drag them apart and mend their clothes. She was very deft with her needle. As time went on, she made clothes for her sisters too. There was one deep rose outfit she made for Lettie, the May Day before this story really starts, which Fanny said looked as if it had come from the most expensive shop in Kingsbury.
About this time everyone began talking of the Witch of the Waste again. It was said the Witch had threatened the life of the King’s daughter and that the King had commanded his personal magician, Wizard Suliman, to go into the Waste and deal with the Witch. And it seemed that Wizard Suliman had not only failed to deal with the Witch: he had got himself killed by her.
So when, a few months after that, a tall black castle suddenly appeared on the hills above Market Chipping, blowing clouds of black smoke from its four tall, thin turrets, everybody was fairly sure that the Witch had moved out of the Waste again and was about to terrorize the country the way she used to fifty years ago. People got very scared indeed. Nobody went out alone, particularly at night. What made it all the scarier was that the castle did not stay in the same place. Sometimes it was a tall black smudge on the moors to the northwest, sometimes it reared above the rocks to the east, and sometimes it came right downhill to sit in the heather only just beyond the last farm to the north. You could see it actually moving sometimes, with smoke pouring out from the turrets in dirty gray gusts. For a while everyone was certain that the castle would come right down into the valley before long, and the Mayor talked of sending to the King for help.
But the castle stayed roving about the hills, and it was learned that it did not belong to the Witch but to Wizard Howl. Wizard Howl was bad enough. Though he did not seem to want to leave the hills, he was known to amuse himself by collecting young girls and sucking the souls from them. Or some people said he ate their hearts. He was an utterly cold-blooded and heartless wizard and no young girl was safe from him if he caught her on her own. Sophie, Lettie, and Martha, along with all the other girls in Market Chipping, were warned never to go out alone, which was a great annoyance to them. They wondered what use Wizard Howl found for all the souls he collected.
They had other things on their minds before long, however, for Mr. Hatter died suddenly just as Sophie was old enough to leave school for good. It then appeared that Mr. Hatter had been altogether too proud of his daughters. The school fees he had been paying had left the shop with quite heavy debts. When the funeral was over, Fanny sat down in the parlor in the house next door to the shop and explained the situation.
“You’ll all have to leave that school, I’m afraid,” she said. “I’ve been
doing sums back and front and sideways, and the only way I can see to keep the business going and take care of the three of you is to see you all settled in a promising apprenticeship somewhere. It isn’t practical to have you all in the shop. I can’t afford it. So this is what I’ve decided. Lettie first—”
Lettie looked up, glowing with health and beauty which even sorrow and black clothes could not hide. “I want to go on learning,” she said.
“So you shall, love,” said Fanny. “I’ve arranged for you to be apprenticed to Cesari’s, the pastry cook in Market Square. They’ve a name for treating their learners like kings and queens, and you should be very happy there, as well as learning a useful trade. Mrs. Cesari’s a good customer and a good friend, and she’s agreed to squeeze you in as a favor.”
Lettie laughed in the way that showed she was not at all pleased. “Well, thank you,” she said. “Isn’t it lucky that I like cooking?”
Fanny looked relieved. Lettie could be awkwardly strong-minded at times. “Now Martha,” she said. “I know you’re full young to go out to work, so I’ve thought round for something that would give you a long, quiet apprenticeship and go on being useful to you whatever you decide to do after that. You know my old school friend Annabel Fairfax?”
Martha, who was slender and fair, fixed her big gray eyes on Fanny almost as strong-mindedly as Lettie. “You mean the one who talks such a lot,” she said. “Isn’t she a witch?”
“Yes, with a lovely house and clients all over the Folding Valley,” Fanny said eagerly. “She’s a good woman, Martha. She’ll teach you all she knows and very likely introduce you to grand people she knows in Kingsbury. You’ll be all set up in life when she’s done with you.”