by Angie Sage
After some time they saw a dark strip across the horizon; slowly it engulfed them and they flew into the night. The lights inside the pod dimmed until all they could see was the soft glow of the map, the gentle movement of the PathFinder and the stars above. In the warmth of the pod, lulled by its gentle whirring, they fell into a dreamless sleep.
Tod was awoken by a change of key: the whirring had dropped a semitone. Blinking blearily, she sat up. The sky was still dark but on the horizon she saw a line of orange fire—they were flying into the dawn.
Tod sat quietly. She watched the sky slowly lighten, deliberately savoring the moment and not thinking about how the pod was going to land. As the great orange ball of the sun crept above the horizon—reminding her of the MidSummer Circle—Oskar and Ferdie stretched and untangled themselves. “It sounds different,” Oskar said, immediately on edge. “What’s happening?”
Tod looked at the map. While they had slept it had scrolled across so that the blue circle was now approaching the silver tip of the PathFinder. “We’re nearly there,” she replied, doing her best to sound calm.
“We can’t be,” Ferdie said. “Look out the window. It’s just miles of rock. Where’s the snow?”
Driffa’s voice describing her world of snow falling apart came back to Tod. “It’s gone,” she said sadly. “This is what it’s like now.”
Ferdie shook her head in dismay. “I had no idea it would be like this.”
Oskar looked at Tod, fear in his eyes. “But how can we possibly land? We’re still going really fast.”
“But the pod will know how to land, won’t it, Tod?” Ferdie asked anxiously.
“Of course it will,” Tod said. She had no idea if that was true, but she figured it was a pilot’s job to keep her crew reassured.
The soft whirring of the pod had become loud like the buzzing of an angry hornet, and it now began rapidly descending the scale, one semitone to the next. The view was divided equally between bright blue sky and deep red rock, with the rock’s share rapidly increasing. There was no doubt about it: they were going down.
Tod knew there was nothing she could do to land the pod, but she could still look after her crew. “Lean back in the seat,” she told Ferdie and Oskar, doing the same herself. As Tod touched the back of her seat the shoulder restraint swung over once more. Obedient to their pilot, Ferdie and Oskar did the same. Sitting back in the seat they could see only sky, but very soon the bright blue joined a horizon of red rock, which rapidly began to fill their view.
“We’re going down into a crater!” Oskar whispered.
Suddenly Tod understood. “It’s not a crater,” she said. “It’s the Heart of the Ways.”
A rapid juddering began and once again they held hands, so tightly this time that Ferdie’s fingers went numb. A thick gray dust began to blow upward and the windows became enveloped in its swirling cloud. A high-pitched whine kicked in, seeming to drill into their ears, and the pod began to vibrate rapidly.
“We’re going to die,” Oskar whispered to his twin.
“Shut up,” Ferdie shot back.
Tod knew she had to do something, but she had no idea what. And so for comfort as much as anything she placed her hand on the PathFinder, which was now rattling on its silver stub. Tod never knew if it was a coincidence or if the pod would have stopped shaking anyway, but at the very moment her hand touched the PathFinder, the vibrations stopped. Seconds later they felt the pod settle onto the ground, tilt forward a little, and come to rest.
All was silent.
Oskar allowed himself to breathe again: at last he was back on solid ground.
DRIFFA IN CHARGE
With a gentle hiss, the shoulder restraints lifted over their heads and settled to their places on the back of the seat. No one moved. Dimly, through the dust cloud, they saw the steep rocky sides of the crater with a zigzag path, down which a lone figure brandishing a sword was running.
The devastation shocked them all. “We’re too late,” Ferdie said sadly.
“We might not be,” Tod said. “I think it depends if there is any Enchantment left.”
Oskar pulled off his lap belt, stood up and stretched. He was looking forward to getting out of the pod, back into fresh air. “There’s only one way to find out,” he said.
Tod put the empty PathFinder back around her neck, took the StarChaser from its bed on the dashboard and went to open the Orm locker. There lay the Orm Egg in its bed of fleece, serene and untouched by flights across galaxies and hundreds of years beneath the sea. With a great sense of occasion all three lifted the Egg from its bed. It lay shimmering in their arms, lit by the low light pulsing inside the pod.
“It’s so beautiful,” Ferdie said.
“It is,” Oskar agreed. “And just think, inside there is another little Ormie.”
“Which is where, Oskar Sarn, it is going to stay,” Tod told him.
“You should take it, Tod,” Ferdie told her. “You found it.”
And so, cradling the Egg, which was surprisingly heavy, Tod walked into the sieve, while Ferdie fussed around with the StarChaser. They stood there, watching the pod hatch close, listening to the chamber balancing its pressures, and then watched the hatch to the outside hiss slowly open. The early-morning chill gave them goose bumps, and the dusty air caught in their throats, but no one cared. It was fresh and it tasted wonderful.
They emerged from the hatch to see Princess Driffa, the Most High and Bountiful, running fast toward them through the dust, her braids flying, blue ribbons streaming behind her and a long, sharp sword in her hand. Driffa skidded to a halt and stared in shock at the sight before her. Stepping out of the fireball that had just descended from the skies was not some terrible monster as Driffa had feared. It was the young Apprentice of that treacherous, and yet so handsome, Wizard. And in her arms she held an Orm Egg.
For one of the few times in her life, Driffa was speechless.
“Princess Driffa, this is for you,” Tod said, feeling suddenly shy.
“For me?” Driffa said, sounding as though Tod had brought her an unexpected birthday present. Driffa reached out her free hand. “May I . . . may I touch it?”
Tod nodded. She was shocked at the change in Driffa. She was no longer the haughty, pristine princess dressed in pure white. She was grubby and disheveled: her clothes were thick and heavy with gray dust, even her hair was dulled to gray. The only pure white visible on Driffa was in the desperate glint in her eyes and the bones of her knuckles that showed through the skin as her hand gripped the hilt of her sword.
“It is indeed the true Egg of the Orm,” Driffa said, her voice soft with wonder. She looked at Tod. “I do not know how your ExtraOrdinary Wizard has done this, but I thank him from the bottom of my heart.”
“Oh!” said Tod, surprised. She decided not to explain how she had got the Egg; it was far too complicated. She held out the Orm Egg, hoping Driffa would take it quickly. It was very heavy.
But Driffa did not take it. As Tod’s arm muscles shook with the effort of holding the Egg, Driffa stood stroking it as if in a dream. “I do understand,” she said, “that he would not wish to bring it to me himself. I said many harsh words to him. Some were, I can see now, a little unfair. But please tell him that I am in awe of his power to Engender a true Egg of an Orm. And that I, and my people, are indebted to him forevermore. Never will we be enemies; forever we will be friends.” With a dramatic flourish, Driffa threw her sword to the ground—where it sank deep into the dust—crossed her hands over her heart, and looked dreamily at the Egg.
Tod could stand it no longer. “Princess Driffa,” she said. “Just take the—” She bit back a rude word. “Just take the Egg, will you?” Driffa, who now regarded Tod with new respect, did as she was told.
With the Orm Egg in her arms, Driffa’s authority returned. She refused to let Tod, Oskar and Ferdie return to what she called “the fireball,” telling them she would not stand by and see the Apprentice of such a powerful and heroic
Wizard burned to a crisp before her eyes. To humor Driffa, Tod closed the hatch and put the StarChaser safely away in her pocket. As she did, she saw a look of relief cross Oskar’s face: his feet were back on the ground and that was where he wanted them to stay.
They climbed the zigzag path up the side of the crater, looking down at the scene below. Sitting in the middle of a sea of dust, the pod seemed tiny. Tod found it hard to believe that they had just flown halfway around the world in what looked, from where she was, like a fishing weight dropped into a bucket of sand.
When they reached the top of the crater Tod realized that the bumps she had taken to be rocks were actually Grula-Grulas. Their hair stiff with dirt and covered with a film of gray, they sat morosely staring into the pit that held the ruins of what had been the very reason for their existence. Some scratched irritably, some rocked slowly back and forth, and a few were making soft keening sounds. It was one of the saddest sights Tod had ever seen. She scanned the nearby Grula-Grulas to see if she could recognize Benhira-Benhara. There was no sign of his vibrant orange fur, but in that dismal wilderness there was no color anywhere. Every living being was steeped in the dust of DisEnchanted lapis lazuli.
Silently, they followed Driffa past the sorrowing clumps of Grulas toward a small encampment, where Driffa and her entourage kept watch over the desolate remains. It was, Driffa said quietly, all they could do. They could not bear to leave. “Because when we go, who will ever know what this crater once was?”
Driffa settled Tod, Oskar and Ferdie in her tent, then left to, as she put it, “place the Egg.” They watched her go, treading carefully, cradling the precious Orm Egg in her arms like a baby.
With its rugs and cushions, Driffa’s tent reminded them of another in a distant land where, not so very long ago, people had watched over a different Orm Egg. As the weariness from the last twenty-four hours caught up with them, they sat in the doorway, drinking a strange-tasting, hot, sweet drink while they looked out onto the dusty landscape of the plateau that had once been covered with Enchanted snow. On the horizon rose a ring of mountains, which were still snow-topped, but all else was barren rock. Tod remembered the quiet beauty that had once existed: the blanket of snow, the lapis caverns below and the brilliant blue pinnacle above. It was hard to imagine how that could possibly be restored. Ferdie clearly thought the same. “Does Driffa really believe that the Orm Egg will put everything back to how it was?” she whispered, careful not to upset the followers Driffa had left in the tent to serve them.
“It doesn’t seem possible,” Oskar said.
“No,” Tod agreed. “It doesn’t.”
THE KEYSTONE
Driffa came back to the tent some hours later to find Tod, Oskar and Ferdie asleep: the cushions and rugs had proved too tempting. However, the Snow Princess was not to be put off. She kneeled beside Tod and gently shook her awake. “Pardon, Apprentice,” she whispered. “All is in place. If you would favor us with your Magyk I do believe we will be successful.”
Tod sat up and blearily rubbed her eyes. She was so tired she would have given almost anything to go back to sleep—except for the chance to be part of the Re-Enchantment of the Ways. She left Ferdie and Oskar still sleeping and followed Driffa out of the tent. She emerged to see a wall of Grula-Grulas standing shoulder to shoulder around the edge of the crater. They were no longer the despondent, dusty creatures they had been some hours ago; now they stood tall, their fur combed and tended, their little arms linked to form an unbroken chain.
Driffa led Tod past the backs of the Grulas to the top of the path that went down into the crater. The Grula-Grula guarding its entrance bowed. “Good afternoon, PathFinder,” it said.
“Ben!” said Tod.
“At your service, now and forevermore,” said Benhira-Benhara Grula-Grula. “We, the Grula-Grula tribe, can never repay you for what you have brought us today.”
“Thank you,” said Tod. “But . . . I’m not sure I’ve brought anything useful.”
“You have brought us hope,” Benhira-Benhara replied.
Tod was so touched she did not know what to say.
“Come on,” Driffa said impatiently. “We’ve got a Re-Enchantment to do.”
As they descended the precarious zigzag path, Tod could not take her eyes off the structure that had risen over the StarChaser pod. The dull metal pod that had carried them halfway across the world now sat beneath a flimsy scaffolding of wooden poles. These rose up some twenty feet above it like the nest of a giant, long-legged bird, on the top of which the Orm Egg perched jauntily.
As they picked their way slowly across the soft, dusty floor of the crater, Driffa, anxious not to offend Tod, launched into an explanation. “Apprentice, please do not think we have imprisoned your fireball in a cage. It just happens that it lies directly beneath the point where we must put the Orm Egg for a successful Re-Enchantment. You see, the Egg must be placed exactly where the previous one lay. You may wonder why it is not higher from the ground, for in our Enchanted days it was suspended some fifty feet above the floor of the Heart of the Ways. However, we are now standing on some twenty-three feet of rubble and lapis dust.”
Tod was impressed; she had not expected Driffa to be so methodical.
They had now reached the foot of the scaffolding where a long wooden ladder led up to the Orm Egg. Driffa took out a small, dull silver box covered in stars. Tod smiled to see her StarChaser box once again. “I thank you for the loan of your precious box,” Driffa said. “We must have one piece of what was here before to set the Re-Enchantment going.” She waved her arm at her surroundings. “But as you see, we have nothing. Not one piece of lapis is left, except what is inside your box.”
Tod looked at the StarChaser box, searching for a sign that Marcia’s Enchantment was still working—but of the purple glimmer that had once flickered around it like lightning, there was no trace. But there was no point worrying about it, she thought; they would know soon enough.
Driffa glanced up at the Egg, which lay still and quiet, awaiting its fate. “When we reach the Egg,” Driffa said, “we must lay the lapis on it to begin the Enchantment. But once its box is open your Wizard’s powerful protection will be broken, and I fear that the lapis will turn to dust before the Magyk has time to become established. My sorcerers tell me that these Earth Enchantments are slow and ponderous to begin and I believe that they are, for once, right. They offered to protect the lapis but they are not our best sorcerers—we lost those last year to Oraton-Marr—and I do not think them capable.” Driffa stopped and looked at Tod. “However, as the Apprentice of such a powerful Wizard, I believe that you are capable.”
Tod was aghast. If she could not protect the lapis in her own precious PathFinder, how could she protect any lapis here, at the very center of the UnRaveling?
But Driffa had no such qualms. She set off quickly up the ladder and Tod had no choice but to follow. At the top Tod joined Driffa on the narrow plank walkway around the Orm Egg. She looked down at the wasteland of gray dust below and then up at the circle of Grula-Grulas high above, imagining all the anxious little pink eyes staring down at her. Tod gulped. This has to work, she thought. It really, really has to.
Driffa flipped open the StarChaser box and Tod saw, to her utter relief, a shard of lapis, bright blue, with a thin streak of gold running through it. Driffa was unsurprised—if this Wizard was powerful enough to Engender an Orm Egg and send his Apprentice in a metal ball of fire to deliver it, then keeping a shard of lapis Enchanted must be the simplest thing in the world for him to do.
“Quick, take the lapis, Apprentice,” Driffa urged. Tod closed her hand around the lapis, wondering how she could protect it. And then she had an idea. If the StarChaser pod could protect an Orm Egg for thousands of years, then maybe her StarChaser could do the same for a piece of lapis lazuli.
It was the work of a few seconds to put the shard of lapis lazuli on top of the Orm Egg and place the StarChaser on top of it. Tod kept her hand on them both, press
ing them into the Egg’s pliant, leathery surface, flattening the area so they did not fall off. Driffa watched with a respectful air. It looked to her as though Tod were performing some deeply Magykal rite.
As Tod pressed down on the StarChaser, she heard the beginnings of a soft buzzing. It grew louder, swimming through the air like a swarm of bees in the summer sunshine, swirling around her and the Orm Egg, enfolding them in a blanket of sound. Tod looked up and saw the circle of Grula-Grulas, suffused with a Magykal yellow light. She understood that the buzzing came from them and she also knew that together, she and the Grula-Grulas could protect the whisper of Enchantment left in the shard of lapis and let it gather once more around its new KeyStone. Secure with that knowledge, Tod closed her eyes to concentrate. She felt her hand grow warm and a tingle ran up her arm. She heard Driffa whisper, “I see it, I see it.” Tod opened her eyes and could hardly believe what she saw—a flickering of Magykal purple surrounding the Orm Egg.
The KeyStone was in place. Re-Enchantment had begun.
A CARPET OF GRULAS
It was evening, snow was falling and the Grula-Grulas were singing in high, reedy voices, crooning long, slow and convoluted songs to the complex Enchantment unfolding in the crater below.
In Driffa’s tent they drew back the sides, lit a fire and watched the thick, fat flakes of snow drift from the sky and settle on the ground. And there Driffa, her friends and family, with Tod, Oskar and Ferdie as their honored guests, sat under a bright, starry sky watching the spreading Enchantment to the haunting background of Grula-Grula music.
Offended by the success of foreign Magyk, Driffa’s three sorcerers had retired early to their own tent. Just past midnight there was a shriek, and one of the sorcerers came running out into the snow. “Which idiot,” he demanded, rubbing his posterior, “which total, utter dingbat put our tent where the pinnacle was?”
All eyes turned to Driffa. Everyone knew it was the Snow Princess who had ordered the placement of the camp, right down to the last detail. Nervously, they waited for the explosion of temper. But Driffa merely laughed. “I do believe it was me, Sorcerer. Oh dear, what was I thinking of?”
