by Angie Sage
“I’m not,” Tod said. “I’m twelve.”
“But you have the ring—the snakes upon your thumb,” said Dandra, puzzled. “That’s how I recognized you when they brought you upstairs.” She smiled. “But even if I hadn’t seen your mother’s ring, I would have known you for your mother’s daughter. You are so like Cassi. But why, Alice, are you here so soon?”
“Something happened,” said Tod. She didn’t want to say any more right then.
Dandra saw Tod’s closed expression—her lips pressed together, her eyes suspiciously bright. “I understand,” she murmured. “Things happen.” Dandra looked at her best friend’s daughter and her heart flipped in a little twist of pity. The child looked so thin and disheveled, her black hair sticking up on end, standing there twisting her strange elflock, the same as her father wore, and with such black circles under her dark eyes.
“Come, Alice,” Dandra said. “I will take you back to the dorm. I don’t suppose you’ll be able to find your way back to the right bed now that they’ve stuffed the place with those silly tents.”
Tod was reluctant to go. Greedily, her eyes took in the amazing space around her—the unbelievably tall silver doors rearing up to the full height of the vaulted hall, its seven golden beams arching up from the floor like graceful trees dividing the luminous dark blue ceiling and its dusting of stars into segments like slices of cake. She gazed at the pictures around the walls that faded in and out of view, and her attention was taken by one particularly bright one that showed a small green dragon and rider fighting a monstrous, six-winged, six-eyed dragon.
“Couldn’t I just stay here for a bit?” asked Tod.
Dandra was taking her position as Tod’s second mother very seriously. “It’s very late,” she said, “and you need your sleep. You can see it all in the morning.”
Tod looked crestfallen. She hated the feeling of being the little kid sent back to bed. Dandra reversed the direction of the stairs and Tod was about to step back onto them when a cold draft of air swept into the hall. The great silver doors were opening. The ExtraOrdinary Wizard strode in, across the message that the floor had written—WELCOME, SEPTIMUS HEAP, EXTRAORDINARY WIZARD—and made straight for Tod and Dandra. Before Tod could catch her breath he was standing right beside her and Dandra Draa was saying, “ExtraOrdinary, this is our new guest, Alice TodHunter Moon”—Dandra looked at Tod questioningly—“who still likes to be known as Tod?” she asked.
Tod smiled. “Yes, please,” she said.
The ExtraOrdinary Wizard smiled in return. “Hello, Tod,” he said. “I hope you’re feeling better now?”
“Yes, thank you,” Tod said politely.
“I am taking Alice—I mean, Tod—back to bed,” Dandra said. “I shall be down soon. We have ten minutes still, I think?”
“Eight,” the ExtraOrdinary Wizard said, glancing at his timepiece. “Well, good night, Tod.” He smiled at Tod, and her expression caught him by surprise. It reminded him of how he had once been—lost and confused. It seemed cruel to send her back upstairs to a lonely dormitory. He also knew that it was rare for someone to be so sensitive to Magyk that they fainted. He looked at the skinny, wild-looking girl and for a brief moment thought he saw a glint of green in her dark eyes. “But perhaps, Tod, you would like to come and see what we are doing tonight?”
One look at Tod’s face told him what her answer was going to be.
“Yes, please.”
MARCIA OVERSTRAND
Tod followed the ExtraOrdinary Wizard down the wide, white marble steps determined to keep her mind clear of the Magykal buzzing and singing that threatened to invade it. At the foot of the steps an elderly Wizard with white hair tied back into a ponytail in purple drifted over to join them. He, too, wore purple, and for a moment Tod was confused. She had been told that there was only one ExtraOrdinary Wizard in the Castle—so why were there suddenly two? Through his faded purple robes, Tod saw a stream of brilliant blue lights that were dropping from the top of the Tower, and when the old Wizard moved she saw he was floating some inches above the ground. With a flash of excitement, Tod realized that she was looking at a ghost. She had never seen a ghost before. People said there were some ancient PathFinder ghosts from the Days of Beyond down by the marsh in her village, but they rarely showed themselves and were reputed to look very strange. But this ghost looked like a kindly elderly man. Noticing her gaze, the ghost smiled at her, his friendly green eyes crinkling as he did so.
“A new Apprentice, Septimus?” he said, addressing the ExtraOrdinary Wizard in a voice that sounded, Tod thought, as though he were talking in a large, empty room.
The ExtraOrdinary Wizard caught Tod’s embarrassed look and grinned. “Maybe, Alther. Maybe. But for the moment she is our guest. She is, Dr. Draa tells me, the daughter of an old Magykal family. Alther, allow me to introduce Alice TodHunter Moon. Alice, this is Alther, a wise friend and the old tutor of someone we are about to meet. Well, we hope we are about to meet.”
Alther bowed. Tod was not sure what to do. She guessed you couldn’t shake hands with a ghost, so she bowed too.
“How are we doing for time, Septimus?” Alther asked in his oddly distant voice.
Septimus looked at his timepiece again. “We are approaching the Midnight Minutes,” he said.
They gathered at one side of the smooth white marble steps that reached high above their heads, in front of what Tod could see was the outline of an archway sitting beneath the steps like a cupboard under the stairs. The archway had VII inscribed on its keystone, which Tod knew was number seven in the ancient PathFinder numbering system. She peered into the arch and saw an eerie white mist swirling deep within it. It reminded her of the one in the woods where she and Oskar had put on their Tristan tops.
“It’s weird,” she whispered to Dandra Draa. “It’s like there is something really deep and strange in there.”
Dandra looked at Tod. “In where?” she said.
“Inside the arch,” said Tod.
All eyes turned to Tod and she felt embarrassed. Clearly it was not a time to be chatting. Something serious was about to happen. “Sorry . . .” she whispered.
To Tod’s discomfort the ExtraOrdinary Wizard was looking at her in a very unsettling manner. “You can see the arch?” he asked.
Tod nodded.
“What can you see inside?”
“Er. Well, it’s like a tunnel with a kind of swirly white cloud deep inside . . .” Tod’s voice trailed off. She wished he would stop staring at her like that.
“And does the arch have a symbol anywhere?” the ExtraOrdinary Wizard asked, testing her.
“Er, yes. Number seven. But it’s written the ancient way: ‘V,’ One, One.”
“How do you know these numbers, Tod?”
“We’re taught them when we are little. They are PathFinder numbers. Oh! There’s someone in there!” Tod gasped. In the depths of the white mist, she saw the dark shape of a figure.
The arch began to glow with a dull purple light, which became ever brighter. Tod saw the figure coming toward them and then suddenly a tall dark-haired woman in a richly embroidered cloak was striding out into the night air, her green eyes glittering with the reflections of the Magyk around her.
“Marcia!” The ExtraOrdinary Wizard sounded relieved. “You made it!”
“Of course I did,” she said. “Alther! Dandra! What a wonderful welcoming committee.” She swung around and threw her arm out somewhat theatrically toward the archway, which was still shining a brilliant purple. “So, now can you see it?” she asked.
“Well, I can now,” the ExtraOrdinary Wizard said—a little grumpily, Tod thought. Slowly the purple light began to fade and Tod watched the archway return to just a dark space within the white marble. “It’s gone again,” he complained.
Marcia Overstrand regarded him with impatience. “Of course it hasn’t gone, Septimus,” she said. “It is still there, but you can’t see it.”
“Neither can I,” said D
andra.
“Well, Dandra, I’m sure you have more important things on your mind,” Marcia said diplomatically. She turned toward the ghost. “Alther?”
The ghost sighed. “I can Feel the disturbance, Marcia. But I, too, can see nothing. Sorry.”
“You will eventually,” Marcia told them. “It’s a skill you have to learn.” She took a stick of purple chalk from her pocket. “I will draw the outline. That way, if anyone wants to come and see me”—she looked pointedly at the ExtraOrdinary Wizard—“there is no excuse not to.”
While Marcia drew around the archway, the ExtraOrdinary Wizard turned to Tod. “Do you still see it?” he asked.
Tod nodded.
“Of course I still see it, Septimus,” Marcia said as she stood on tiptoe to reach the highest point of the arch. “How would I draw around it otherwise?”
“Actually, Marcia, I was talking to our young guest here,” Septimus said.
“Oh?” Marcia spun around and peered into the dimness past the steps. She saw for the first time a slight, barefooted girl wearing a scruffy old vest covered with pockets, pulled over an Apprentice nightgown. “Goodness,” she said. “Who is this?”
“Marcia, this is Alice TodHunter Moon, the only one of us who can see your elusive archway. Tod, this is Marcia Overstrand.”
Tod felt quite overawed by the ExtraOrdinary Wizard including her in the “us” of his group of high-powered Wizards.
Marcia frowned. “You can still see the archway?” she asked Tod.
“Yes,” said Tod, trying to sound sure. She had the feeling that Marcia did not believe her.
“Well, well,” Marcia said. As she spoke, the tinny chimes of a distant clock drifted in on the still night air: ting . . . ting . . . ting . . . Silence fell as they all stood counting the chimes. Tod glanced at the ExtraOrdinary Wizard. He looked nervous, she thought. On the twelfth chime Marcia turned to him and said, “Septimus, I know we had arranged for you to Go Through on your own tonight on the Midnight Minutes, but this is very interesting indeed. Perhaps we could leave that for now and have a little chat instead? Upstairs, Septimus? In your rooms?”
Tod saw momentary relief flicker across the ExtraOrdinary Wizard’s features before he managed to suppress it. She didn’t blame him for not wanting to Go Through the archway. There was something unnerving about its misty depths.
“With pleasure, Marcia,” he said.
A few minutes later, Tod found herself escorted up the spiral stairs in some style, accompanied not only by the current ExtraOrdinary Wizard, but by the previous two ExtraOrdinaries as well. It felt unreal—and just a little bit scary.
THE TOP OF THE TOWER
On the seventh floor of the Wizard Tower, Dr. Dandra Draa did the last rounds of the night in her Sick Bay and tutted to herself about her protégée being whisked away by the ExtraOrdinaries. Dandra was of the opinion that twelve-year-olds should not be up after midnight. She decided to go to the ExtraOrdinary Wizard’s rooms as soon as she had finished and insist Tod come back to bed.
“What would Cassi say?” Dandra muttered to herself. “Letting the girl stay up so late?” She sighed. The honest answer was that Cassi, a free spirit, would have been perfectly happy about it. And she would have been thrilled that not only had her daughter shown signs of inheriting the Magykal skills of the Draa side of the family, but that it had been recognized so soon by two powerful Wizards.
Poignant memories of the very last time she had seen her friend came rushing back to Dandra. Dandra—a Wizard and a skilled Physician, who came from the Hot, Dry Deserts of the South—had some years ago received a request from Marcia to help with a difficult DisEnchantment. Dandra had been only too pleased to leave her home, where things had become very dangerous for her. On her way to the Castle, she had stopped off at the TodHunter Moon household and Dandra still remembered the shock of seeing her old friend. Pale and thin, with a hacking cough and streaming red eyes, it was obvious that Cassi TodHunter Draa was seriously ill. Dandra knew there was nothing she could do to help her. Cassi had the dreaded Sand Sickness, caused by inhaling a small but deadly sand fly—common in Dandra’s homeland, but previously unknown in the PathFinder village. Dandra had stayed a few days with Dan and Cassi and had gotten to know their little girl, Alice, who was, she remembered, a very determined tomboy. It was one of the saddest moments of Dandra’s life when she had said farewell to the little family, for she knew she would never see them together again. Her heart ached for Dan and Alice—or Tod, as the young Alice insisted on being called—as she waved good-bye from the Trading Post shuttle boat and began the very last stage of her journey to the fabled Wizard Tower. Dandra had promised Cassi to be a second mother to her little girl if ever she decided to follow the Magykal Draa side of the family and come to the Wizard Tower, but Dandra had never expected to see Tod again. She doubted Dan would ever let his one reminder of his beloved Cassi out of his sight. Dandra sighed. But now poor Dan was gone too. Who would have thought it? Forlornly, Dr. Dandra Draa continued her midnight rounds of the Sick Bay.
Meanwhile, in the rooms of the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Tod’s head was buzzing with Magyk and excitement. She was ensconced on a small stool next to the fire, which burned with Magykal multicolored flames. The room was filled with dancing shadows and fleeting purple lights that Tod could see only at the very edge of her vision. The room had an odd, echoing quality to it. It felt quite bare, apart from the heavy purple curtains on the windows and a small, furry rug beside the fire. It was sparsely furnished, as though someone had only recently moved in.
There was, however, an unusual purple sofa in front of the fire, on which Marcia had settled herself. She leaned back, kicked off the most astonishing pair of shoes that Tod had ever seen—purple snakeskin with tiny green jade buttons—and gave a contented sigh. “It’s nice to be back,” Marcia said, wiggling her toes. “It’s so warm here.”
The ghost of Alther Mella floated down next to Marcia, and to Tod’s surprise, the young ExtraOrdinary Wizard sat on the floor beside her. “Now,” he said to Tod. “If I am calling you Tod, then you must call me Septimus. Okay?”
Tod smiled shyly. “Okay,” she said.
“Likewise, Marcia is just Marcia and Alther is just Alther. We don’t use our titles when we are among people who understand Magyk.”
“Unless they are being very annoying,” Marcia put in.
“Marcia was ExtraOrdinary Wizard here up until six months ago,” Septimus explained. “But she has now found more interesting things to do. Like go wandering through all kinds of strange arches—arches that none of us can see. Except for you, Tod, it seems.”
“Oh!” said Tod, somewhat lost for words. She could not quite believe what was happening. She sat very still, breathed in the Magykal air and listened to Marcia and Septimus bicker in the way that only old friends can do.
“Septimus, you exaggerate,” Marcia was protesting. “It is just this one archway at the Wizard Tower that you can’t see. All the others are perfectly clear; I don’t know what you are fussing about. I suspect there has been some kind of Invisibility screen put on this arch, and you know how Invisibility soaks into marble. You just can’t get it out however hard you try. But it is only a matter of practice before you see it.”
“Maybe.” Septimus sounded unconvinced.
Marcia was now in full flow. “And to set the record straight, Septimus, I did not ‘find more interesting things to do,’ as you put it. It was time for me to go. The worst thing an ExtraOrdinary Wizard can do is to outstay her welcome. Look at that Brynna Jackson woman, she hung on until she was ninety-three. The Wizard Tower was a complete mess for years after that.”
“You had a little way to go until you were ninety-three,” Septimus pointed out.
“A little,” Marcia agreed. “But I was in the job for twenty-one years; it’s best to go when your powers are at their height.” She sat back and sniffed the air appreciatively. “You know, Septimus, you must be doing something right�
�I have never felt so much Magyk in the air. It’s quite exhilarating.”
A companionable silence fell as they watched the multicolored flames of the fire leap and dance in the darkness and Tod supressed a yawn. It had been a very long day and it was beginning to catch up with her.
Alther spoke, and Tod felt goose bumps run down her neck. It struck her that there was no warning when a ghost was about to speak, because there was no intake of breath—it was very peculiar. “We should not keep this child up for any longer than necessary,” Alther said, his voice drifting into the room.
“No, of course not,” said Marcia. “Now, Tod, tell me. Are you by any chance a PathFinder?”
Tod stared at Marcia in astonishment. How did she know? It wasn’t as if Tod’s skin showed up shiny at night like most PathFinders. “I’m half PathFinder,” she said. “My dad is—I mean, was—a PathFinder.”
Marcia nodded. “And your mother is from a Magykal tribe?”
Tod felt almost spooked. How did Marcia know so much about her? “My mother was a Draa. But she is not alive now. Dr. Draa is a distant cousin. And she was my mother’s friend, too.”
Septimus understood that it was not easy to talk of one’s dead mother and father. “Enough questions about parents, Marcia,” he said. “I am sure Tod doesn’t want to talk about that tonight.”
“Of course,” Marcia agreed. “But you are from a PathFinder village, Tod?”
Relieved not to have to talk about her parents, Tod began to speak about her PathFinder village and the terrible things that had happened. A solemn silence fell in the room as the three ExtraOrdinaries listened to her story.
As Tod drew to a close, Septimus said, “Tod, this is terrible. You must consider the Wizard Tower your home for as long as you wish.”
