StarChaser

by Angie Sage

  Tod turned and ran, hopping from one stepping-stone to another, racing for another arch—she didn’t care which one, any arch would do. But as she reached it she saw another ten-foot-tall shadow emerging from its Vanishing Point.

  Tod stopped dead, teetered on the stepping-stone, then turned and headed back to the central rock. The first Kraan was now also advancing toward the center, and Tod knew that she and the Kraan were going to arrive on it at the same time. Tod stopped and turned around. Behind her came the second Kraan; less coordinated than the first, it was having trouble with the stepping-stones, but unless it actually fell off, she knew she was trapped.

  Tod hovered on her stepping-stone; her trembling fingers found her Apprentice belt and ran over the contents of its pocket. She had a basic UnSeen Charm, but that was no use when in a few seconds she would be sharing her stepping-stone with a Kraan. Thanks to her homework, Tod knew that UnSeen or not, the touch of a Kraan killed. The only other thing of use she had was a SmokeBom that she had made in her Conjuring Class. It would have to do. She took out the green glass tube, shook it to Activate it and snapped it in half. A great cloud of thick green smoke billowed out and engulfed her. Tod seized her chance and under its cover she slipped noiselessly into the water.

  BREATHE

  Even though Tod was one of the ten percent of PathFinders who had gills, even though she had used her gills before and knew she could breathe underwater, her first intake of water went against all her natural instincts. She spluttered and gagged as the lake water hit the back of her palate and the sensitive skin flap that had automatically closed off the top of her windpipe. She felt the gills deep in her sinuses open up and fill with water. Her head became heavy and a muddy, fishy smell filled her senses. Tod forced herself to keep on breathing in until she no longer felt the need for oxygen, and then very slowly she breathed out and began to sink down through the bright sun-slanted green water into the cooler, darker depths. By the time her boots hit the bottom of the lake she was used to the blurry vision and the strange feeling of being both outside and inside the water.

  Very slowly, so that she did not disturb the surface of the water, Tod walked across the pebbly lake bed slippery with, she guessed, snake poop. As she moved steadily forward in slow motion, she felt the flickering of water snakes, and saw the occasional glancing beam of sunlight catch them darting like flashes of lightning. Tod had read somewhere that all water snakes were poisonous, but she tried not to think about that. She remembered how Oskar, who knew all about land snakes, had told her that all a snake wants to do is to get out of your way. As long as you did not corner it, he said, the snake would just slink away.

  Doing her very best not to corner any snake, or upset its snake sensitivities in any way whatsoever, Tod moved slowly onward. She soon came to a line of pillars that rose up and broke the surface of the water—these were the stepping-stones. Like a water snake herself, she threaded through them, and found that she was almost enjoying being under the water. She negotiated three more lines of stepping-stone pillars, and at the fourth she stopped; these were the stepping-stones leading to the arch that would take her home.

  The tall dark pillars of granite rose up like trees and broke the silver skin of the surface. Brilliant with sunlight, it shone like a mirror, and Tod could see nothing above it. She walked along the pillars until she reached the slimy green wall of the Hub. The arch leading to the Ways home was now directly above, but was it safe to come out yet? Were the Kraan gone or had they seen what she did and were waiting for her to surface? There was only one way to find out.

  Hand over hand, Tod pulled herself up the slippery wall of the Hub, keeping her eyes on the surface, watching for any Kraan-shaped shadows. She broke the surface with scarcely a ripple and stayed in the shadow of the wall, watching the Hub.

  It was empty.

  With a long whoop of relief Tod breathed out a spout of water that would not have disgraced a small whale, then she hauled herself up onto the threshold of the arch. Tod sat on the warm stone and let the sun melt the chill that had lodged in her bones. She blew the water from her nose, coughed it from her throat. She sat, a little dizzy, while her sinuses once more filled with warm air and her ears popped and crackled. When at last her nose had stopped running, Tod got to her feet, waited for the dizziness to settle and turned to face the arch.

  It was time to go home.

  WELCOME

  The saddest Hub Tod walked through was the first one after the lake: silent as the grave, strewn with broken, bloodied bodies of rats. Tod squelched across to her archway, trying not to think about the blood and rat fur sticking to the soles of her boots.

  But each and every Hub was frightening. With the fear that any moment another Kraan would appear—for if there were two, how many more would she find?—Tod took them all at a run and was at the maze Hub sooner than she expected. The PathFinder took her through, and when she was not checking the direction, Tod was watching the tops of the walls for bald, black skeleton heads. She saw none and could hardly believe it when she reached the arch that led to the Far Hub. She thanked her PathFinder, put it into her safe pocket and ran into the Vanishing Point.

  Two minutes later, she walked out of the mist and broke into a huge grin. In front of her was a lantern beside a door with a shining knocker and the sign saying: Welcome, Friend, to the Far Hub. Please knock and we will open the door. As she went to lift the knocker, the door was flung open.

  “Tod!”

  “Hey, Tod!”

  Two redheaded bullets hurled themselves at her, laughing and hugging her so hard that water squeezed from her jacket and puddled onto the floor.

  “You smell of snake,” Oskar said.

  “And mud,” added Ferdie, pulling her into the cozy warmth of the Far Hub.

  Tod heard the bolt being shot across the door and Jerra saying, “Give her a break, you two.” And then, “Hey, Tod, come and sit by the fire. You’re soaked.”

  Tod allowed Ferdie and Oskar to lead her to the cushions beside the charcoal brazier. Jerra looked down at Tod anxiously. “You’ve got blood on your boots,” he said.

  “It’s rat blood,” Tod told Jerra sadly. She shuddered, ice-cold at the thought of the Kraan—she suddenly realized what a narrow escape she had had.

  Wrapped in a huge towel, her clothes drying by the brazier, Tod slowly sipped a large mug of Jerra’s hot chocolate. After a while she stopped shivering and began to tell about the terrifying journey through the Ways. Jerra, Oskar and Ferdie listened in shocked silence until she had finished, and then Jerra spoke.

  “This is serious,” he said. “Kraan in the Ways. It makes them almost unusable.”

  “It makes no difference,” Tod said flatly. “Soon all the Ways will be unusable anyway.”

  Three pairs of bright blue Sarn eyes looked at Tod. “Why?” asked Oskar.

  And so Tod added the last part to her tale—Driffa’s visit to the Castle and the UnRaveling of the Ways.

  “Jeez . . .” Jerra said when Tod was finished. Like many of the younger ones from the village, Jerra had been enjoying the freedom that the Ways had given him to travel the world. Their isolated lives had been transformed. Jerra sighed. “And we’d only just discovered them.”

  “But Tod, you won’t be able to go back to the Castle,” Ferdie said.

  “None of us will,” Oskar said sadly.

  “Yes, we will. We’ll go by boat,” Tod said. “But the thing is . . . oh, I can hardly believe it, but it’s true . . .”

  “What is it?” Oskar asked anxiously.

  “There might not be a Castle to go back to. It’s built on a bedrock of lapis; there is tons of the stuff beneath it. If that turns to dust then everything’s going to collapse.”

  “Collapse?” Oskar and Ferdie gasped.

  “But the Wizard Tower is Magykal,” Ferdie said. “It can’t collapse.”

  “It is Magykal because of the lapis,” Tod explained. “If the lapis goes, it won’t be Magykal anymore
. It won’t even be there anymore.” Even though she knew this was true, Tod couldn’t imagine the Wizard Tower, with its golden pyramid, its hazy purple windows and its beautiful, lazy Sprites disappearing in a pile of dust.

  However, Oskar was not worried. “But it’s okay,” he said. “Ormie will make some more.”

  Tod was silent. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Oskar what Septimus had said: that the Ormlet was dead.

  PART IX

  A PROPOSAL

  Mitza Draddenmora Draa had a score to settle. Her stepsister was Tod’s mother, Cassi TodHunter Draa. Cassi had committed the crime of marrying Dan Moon, the only man—indeed the only human being—whom Mitza had ever loved. Cassi had destroyed Mitza’s dreams, and she had paid the price when she had opened a letter from Mitza containing a flurry of sand within which lurked lethal sand flies. After a long illness, Cassi had died. But Cassi’s death was no longer enough for Mitza. The older Cassi’s daughter grew, the more she looked like her mother, and Mitza now felt mocked by Tod’s very existence.

  In the depths of the Red Queen’s dungeons, to the background of the Lady lamenting her lot in life and Oraton-Marr groaning with pain, Mitza seethed with frustration. She was sick of waiting: it was time for Tod to pay the price of being her mother’s daughter, and time for Dan to have nothing left of his foolish marriage. Mitza knew what she must do, but how was she to do it, imprisoned as she was?

  However, nothing stopped Mitza on her path of revenge for long and soon she had hatched a plan. She sent a note to the Red Queen by a guard who was too scared to refuse. The note said:

  Dear Your Majesty,

  I write to inform Your Royal Graciousness that I am able to obtain for You the key to the Castle that the Sorcerer promised You.

  Your most humble and incredibly obedient servant,

  Mitza Draddenmora Draa

  Calmly, Mitza awaited a reply; she knew the Red Queen would not be able to resist. She was right. Late next morning Mitza was taken from the dungeon and marched blindfolded for two long hours through the cold corridors of the Red Palace. Just as Mitza was beginning to fear that she had misjudged the Red Queen and was on her way to have her head chopped off, the guards came to a halt and pulled off her blindfold. Mitza recognized the gold doors at once: she was outside the audience chamber again. She pushed down a smug smile and composed herself. Now was her big chance.

  Eyes downcast, she entered the chamber and curtseyed.

  “I want that key,” the Red Queen said. “Get it.”

  Five seconds later Mitza said, “Your wish is my command, Majesty.”

  “You’re not a bloody jinnee, woman,” the Queen retorted. “I’ll tell you what my command is. I don’t want a key from that little witch trollop; I want the real thing from the Castle Queen herself. You will arrange for the Queen to meet me and hand over her keys. She will then escort me to her palace. Do you understand?”

  Mitza went pale. This was not what she had offered the Red Queen, but she dared not protest. Grateful for the five-second pause, Mitza did some rapid thinking. “I will need a bag of gold for a Hawk, Majesty,” she said.

  “A hawk?” the Red Queen spluttered.

  There was a seven-second silence. Mitza decided to keep the queen waiting just a little bit longer than she was used to. “A Hawk,” she repeated impassively. “And another bag of gold for a HoodWink.”

  The Queen stared at Mitza through narrowed eyes. The woman was impressive. “Give her what she needs,” the Queen instructed the guards. She coolly returned Mitza’s dead-eyed stare. “You will return in three hours. You will then conduct me to my new Palace.”

  Mitza did not react. She had long ago learned that when something scared her witless it was best not to show it.

  The Red Queen got to her feet. “Three hours from now. Or I shall have your head on a spike. Now, go!”

  TO HIRE A HAWK

  Mitza walked out of the Palace, shocked. Three hours—how could she do everything in three short hours? She considered fleeing the Red City, but she knew it would be useless; the Queen’s outriders would track her down. Clutching her bags of gold, Mitza hurried along the narrow alleyways of the Red City, her thoughts whirling rapidly into panic. She stopped, took a few deep breaths and told herself to calm down; all she had to do was to find a couple of sorcerers. And that, she thought, would be easy in a city reputed to be infested with them.

  However, it was anything but easy. Despite the saying in the Red City that there was one rat for every sorcerer, although it was sometimes hard to tell the difference—sorcerers did not generally advertise their whereabouts. They relied on a system of young runners—wannabe Apprentices—to guide clients whom they liked the look of to them. Unfortunately for Mitza, not one runner liked the look of her at all.

  At first Mitza was not concerned. She hurried along the maze of alleyways, preoccupied with rehearsing her plan. It was, she told herself, a good one. The important thing was to get the Red Queen to the Castle, where she would be away from her Palace Guards. Once the Queen was in the Castle she would be in no position to be fussy about anything at all. Mitza would get the key from Marissa, show the Red Queen to the Palace, escort her over the threshold, and then lock her in and run for it. The two Queens could fight it out between them and she, Mitza Draddenmora Draa, would have the key to the Castle. She would be free to go wherever she wanted and—more important—free to track down young Alice TodHunter Moon. It was, Mitza thought, a very good plan indeed.

  But first she had to find a sorcerer.

  Watched from the shadows by cautious runners, Mitza plodded the hot and dusty byways with no luck. After an increasingly anxious hour, she found herself in a dead end and was faced with the long walk back. Panic was rising, when she suddenly spotted a tiny sign above a sun-bleached door. Written in faint gold letters was the word Sorcery.

  Mitza pushed open the door and was faced with a curl of fiendishly steep stairs up one of the tallest towers in the city. Slowly, she began to climb. Ten minutes later, breathless and red-faced, Mitza was standing in front of a black velvet–covered door at the top of the tower. She wiped the sweat from her brow, wrung out her handkerchief and then swung a brass toad on a rope against a silver plate beside the door. A faint tinkling came from deep within.

  After some long minutes a hominid with pink scales and black button eyes let her in. “Follow,” it whispered. Mitza went duck-footed behind the creature along a dark and thankfully cold corridor that smelled of burned pumpkin. She was shown into a tiny room lined with distorting mirrors. “Show me your money,” whispered the hominid.

  Mitza held out one bag of gold.

  “Show inside bag,” said the hominid.

  Taking care to keep it out of snatching distance, Mitza undid the drawstring to reveal yellow gold coins as thick as butter pats. The hominid licked its lips and scuttled away, leaving Mitza surrounded by a myriad of shining versions of herself. She closed her eyes. Some things were best left unseen.

  The gold got Mitza admitted to the sorcerer’s room at once. The room was taller than it was wide and lit by a small slit window so high that all it showed was a strip of bright blue sky. A bar of light shone down onto a strikingly beautiful gray-haired woman who wore the typical Red City sorcerer’s scarlet robes heavy with gold embroidery. As Mitza entered, the sorcerer looked up and two beams of Darke light shone from her eyes. Mitza gasped and jumped backward. The beams stung.

  “What is it that you lack?” asked the sorcerer in a soft voice.

  Mitza decided to go for the difficult one first. “A Hawk to find a witch and take her to a place of my choosing. At a time of my choosing,” Mitza replied, careful to say all that she needed.

  “Gold first. Hawk second.”

  Mitza handed over the bag and the sorcerer poured the coins onto the floor. She looked down at them disdainfully. “New minted.”

  “From the Royal Mint,” Mitza said.

  The sorcerer picked one up and sniffed it. “Hmm
. . . they smell right. You will need an article from the witch to give the Hawk.”

  That was no problem for Mitza; she kept what she called “tabs” on everyone she could. She had a button from one of Tod’s tunics, a handkerchief from Dan Moon, a sliver of blue silk surreptitiously cut from inside the hem of the Lady’s dress and a silver star pried from Oraton-Marr’s cloak. She even had a long white hair from the Red Queen that she had found lying in the dust outside her audience chamber. And from Marissa she had one of the grubby green ribbons that she threaded through her hair. “Yes,” said Mitza.

  The sorcerer eyed her client appreciatively. Here was someone who knew what she was doing. “You’re not looking for a job, I suppose?” she asked. “I have a position vacant here. My last assistant was not entirely . . . suitable.”

  “Few are,” Mitza commented.

  The sorcerer gave a thin smile. “Indeed. My creature will give you the Hawk. If you choose to return it I shall refund half your gold. If you choose to stay as my assistant I shall return all your gold, bar one coin for my trouble.” She handed Mitza a tiny scroll, sealed with a blob of fat black wax. “The Incantation. Make eye contact with the bird at all times. Say it slow and clear. Make no mistakes. You will not get a second chance. I wish you good hunting.”

  “I thank you,” Mitza replied in what she thought of as sorcerer-speak.

  The sorcerer laughed. “You are sorely pressed for time,” she observed. “And still you lack two things.”

  “I am,” Mitza agreed. “And I do.”

  “What is it that you lack?” the sorcerer asked once again.

  Mitza decided to go for business first, pleasure second. “A pair of HoodWinks,” she replied.

  The sorcerer chuckled. “You are hatching a fine plan, I can see. I am sorry to say I sold my last HoodWink only this morning—and for less gold than you would have paid. Yes, I know you have another bag. So, I will do a deal. For half of that bag I will give you a pass to the Gremelzin in the caverns. It will provide you with a fine pair of HoodWinks, I guarantee. But stand well back. It bites. Be sure to wear a shawl, for the cavern is infested with Maunds.”