PathFinder

by Angie Sage

Marcia leaned forward impatiently. “But the reason I asked if you were a PathFinder is because a few years ago a friend of ours named Marwick found something rather exciting—a system of Ancient Ways that stretch across the world. And you get into them always through an archway. Most of these archways are in what is called a Hub—like a crossroads, really, where some Ways meet. Anyone can see the archways in a Hub. Even Septimus.” Marcia flashed Septimus a smile. “But there are other arches that are not in Hubs and they tend to be Hidden. These arches are always, Marwick said, at the end of what he called a blind Way—a Way that does not go to a Hub, but to one place only. And, you see, Marwick once said a very strange thing to me. He said he wished he were a PathFinder. I asked him what he meant and he said that PathFinders can see all the Hidden arches.”

  “Have you seen any other arches, Tod?” Septimus asked.

  “No,” said Tod. And then she suddenly remembered the creepy arch where she and Oskar had put on their Tristan tops—which felt like a lifetime ago. “Well, maybe I did see one,” she said. “In a wood near the OutPost.”

  “The OutPost, eh? Now let’s see if we can work out which one that would be.” From a pocket inside her voluminous cloak, Marcia extracted a long silver tube. She pulled a cork from the end of it and eased out a scroll of grubby, crinkled paper. She carefully unrolled it to reveal what looked to Tod like a drawing of a fishing net made by someone with her eyes closed.

  “This,” said Marcia, “was drawn by Marwick. It is, he told me, a map of the Ancient Ways and it covers the whole world.”

  “The whole world?” Tod breathed.

  “Amazing, isn’t it? I didn’t believe him at first,” Marcia said. “And neither did you, did you, Septimus?”

  Septimus shook his head. He felt bad about that still. But at least, he thought, his older brother Sam had believed Marwick. Septimus gazed at his old friend Marwick’s spiderlike scrawl with a pang of sadness. The paper circle began to roll itself back up and Marcia quickly passed her hand over it. A flicker of purple light followed her hand and the paper obediently unrolled and lay as flat as a piece of glass.

  Marcia put on a pair of small, round spectacles and joined Septimus on the rug. Unsettlingly, Alther floated off the sofa and hovered above the map, looking down at it. Tod found it hard to concentrate on the map with the ghost hanging in the air, his robes showing no sign of being affected by gravity at all.

  The map was nothing like the sea charts that Tod was used to. At the very center was a circle carefully colored in blue. It was numbered like a clockface with twelve Roman numerals and contained a spiral and a heart-shaped symbol. Marcia placed a long, elegant finger on it. “Marwick told us that this is the Heart of the Ways. It’s the very center of the network and is reputed to be made of solid lapis lazuli and built by a snake or something. Very strange. He never found it, though. Well . . . not as far as we know.”

  “Maybe he and Sam are there now,” Septimus murmured.

  Tod had a question. “But if Marwick never got there, how did he know what it was like?”

  “Well, Marwick lived on an island on the Marram Marshes,” said Septimus. “You would have come past the marshes on your way up the river. It’s a wild and weird place where the Dragon Boat used to lie hidden in an old temple beneath the ground.”

  “But why was the Dragon Boat under the ground?” asked Tod.

  “That,” said Marcia firmly, “is another story for another time.”

  Septimus continued. “So, in this old temple Marwick found a sphere of lapis lazuli covered in a network of lines. He borrowed my best Enlarging Glass to have a closer look at it and he never gave it back.” Septimus grinned ruefully. “He was a little scatty, was Marwick. Anyway, he realized that the lines all joined up and he figured it was a map. So he drew it out flat and thought no more of it—until one day at the back of a shelf, he found a little book called The Ancient Ways of the World. And in the book was a map just like the one he had drawn. It turned out to be a kind of guidebook, and that’s how Marwick got interested. It seemed from the map that there was an archway somewhere on his island, so he started looking. He eventually found it when he was sweeping out the old temple. He said he just saw a kind of dent in the wall, walked straight at it and ended up in a jungle somewhere.

  “He was stunned. He was thousands of miles from home, yet he had traveled there almost in an instant. He discovered that he was in an overgrown circle of twelve arches, each one numbered, one to twelve.” Septimus smiled at Tod. “With your PathFinder numbers. He explored a little and found that each arch led to another Hub—or sometimes to a single Hidden arch. Marwick was hooked. He and my brother Sam began to explore and they ended up all over the world. Marwick said it was easy to find your way back home as you just took note of the number of the arch you had come out of. He and Sam took the map with them and noted down all the numbers and where everything went and which Ways still worked—not all of them do, he said. And of course, really the map should be in three dimensions. Even so, it’s pretty amazing.”

  Tod peered at the map, fascinated. She could see the faint numbers in different colors and the wiggly descriptions of some of the Hubs—Beware Snake Pit, Deep in Sand, Temple with Priest Expecting Gift—gave Tod the strange feeling of a whole world laid out before her.

  Marcia took over. “Every now and then, Marwick and Sam would come and see me and update my map. It was so fascinating, Tod. And, after years of being at the Castle I began to get itchy feet. I longed to travel and see the world too.”

  Tod was beginning to understand how Marcia felt.

  “So, Tod, last year while I was still ExtraOrdinary Wizard, while I was traveling with a dear friend, I found a beautiful old tower called the Keep. And deep in the basement of the Keep to my amazement I found what I knew was a Hub. It was choked with earth and had been used as a rubbish pit but I could not stop thinking about it. Here was my chance to have my own entrance to the Ancient Ways. My chance to travel the world. So I sold what was left of my collection of Fragile Fairy pots—they had suddenly become very popular—and bought the Keep.”

  A ghostly voice from above the map made Tod jump. “But not until she had made sure I had been to a party there. In my wild youth.” The ghost chuckled.

  This was all too strange for Tod to take in. She leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace, and it was only the pressure of the warm stone behind her that told her she was not dreaming.

  Marcia laughed. “Alther is not as crazy as he sounds, Tod,” she said. “One of the rules of ghosthood is . . .”

  “A ghost may only tread once more where, Living, he has trod before,” Alther finished for her. “Which means I can’t go somewhere new anymore. Ever. So remember that, young Tod. Go to as many places in your life as you possibly can. Goodness, Septimus, if I had known about these Ancient Ways then you wouldn’t have kept me out of them for one moment. Think of all the places I could go to now.”

  Septimus shook his head. “It’s not all good, Alther. I am concerned that using these Ways opens us up to all kinds of Incursions. Who knows who or what might come through to the Wizard Tower.”

  “I should have thought it was more secure now I’m living at the Keep,” Marcia countered. “Anything that comes here has to come through my Hub first.”

  The heavy purple door to the rooms swung silently open and Dandra Draa walked in.

  “Oh, Dandra!” Marcia said, rather guiltily.

  “Marcia, it is very nearly one o’clock,” Dandra said sternly. “I do think Alice should come to bed now.”

  Tod thought so too. Her head was fuzzy with Magyk and the new ideas she had been trying to take in. She felt so tired she could have fallen asleep right there.

  Marcia, Septimus and Alther wished her good night and as Dandra shepherded her out, Tod saw Septimus and Marcia head out toward a little brightly lit kitchen. “I have some really wild new coffee,” Septimus was saying. “Would you like to try some?”

  “I’d
love to,” Marcia replied.

  Tod watched Septimus and Marcia together. Septimus was half a head taller than Marcia and he wore his ExtraOrdinary Wizard robes well, Tod thought. His long purple tunic hung from his broad shoulders and the ExtraOrdinary Wizard platinum-and-gold belt sat easily around his waist. As Septimus stood back to let Marcia go first, Tod saw Marcia put her hand on his shoulder and say, “I hope that coffeepot is behaving properly now.”

  Septimus groaned. “That coffeepot is in disgrace. I’ve locked it in the cupboard. It’s a one-woman pot, Marcia. It’s yours to take home.”

  Marcia laughed. “Poor old pot. Septimus, how could you lock it away?”

  “Easy,” said Septimus. “Just one turn of the key.” Tod heard the smile in his voice as he disappeared into the kitchen.

  Tod could tell there was a private space between Septimus and Marcia that no one intruded upon. It made her feel suddenly lonely; there was no one she was close to now. She was very far from home indeed.

  And then Dandra put her arm around her shoulders and drew Tod out of the room. “Time,” she said firmly, “for bed.”

  On the first floor in the Junior Girls’ Apprentice Dorm, Tod was asleep, but in her dreams she was awake and running, slow and scared, beneath the water. She was looking for Dan, just as she did every night, but now she was pursued by the dreaded sounds: clicker-click-click . . . click-click . . . clicker-click. And in her dreams she understood what the clicks were saying.

  “We know where you are, Alice TodHunter Moon. We know where you are and we are coming to get you.”

  TOWER TOUR

  Tod woke late to a feeling that she was the last one in the dormitory. She lay still for a while, listening to the purposeful hum of Magyk as the day-to-day work of the Wizard Tower proceeded, then she pushed back her covers and jumped out of bed onto the soft, warm floor. At the end of the bed were her clean sailing trews, striped top and canvas shoes. Tod smiled, pleased to see the adventurous part of herself back once more.

  Ten minutes later she bumped into Dandra Draa in the Apprentice corridor.

  “Aha,” said Dandra, “I thought you’d be up. I’m your Wizard Tower guide for today. How does breakfast and then a tour sound to you?”

  It sounded pretty good to Tod.

  By the end of the day, Tod’s head was in a whirl. Dandra had shown her every part of the Wizard Tower it was possible for a non-Wizard to see, and much that wasn’t. Now Tod felt tired and frazzled. The constant presence of Magyk—as much as she loved it—was exhausting. So when, on her way back with Dandra from viewing the Sealed Cell lobby, Tod saw a familiar face in the Great Hall, she felt almost tearful with relief. “Nicko!” she called out.

  Nicko was sitting on the waiting bench. Hearing his name, he jumped to his feet. “Hey, Tod!” he called out. “How’s it going—weird?”

  “A bit,” Tod admitted.

  “I’m not surprised,” Nicko said. “Ever since Sep—I mean, the new ExtraOrdinary Wizard—took over, this place has been buzzing like a swarm of bees.” He grinned at Dandra. “You may not notice it, but personally, it gives me a headache.”

  Dandra smiled. “You’ve been away on your boat for too long, Nicko.”

  “Maybe,” Nicko said. “And talking of boats, Tod—Snorri and I wondered if you would like to have supper with us on the Adventurer and get out of all this fizzy-fuzzy Magyk stuff.”

  “I would love to have supper on the Adventurer,” said Tod. “And to see Snorri. And Ullr.” She turned to Dandra. “May I?”

  “Of course,” Dandra said. She reached up to a small box high on the wall, pulled a long, thin purple card from it and handed it to Tod. “The night password. You will need this to get back in.”

  Tod buttoned the card into one of the many pockets in Dan’s fishing vest. It was good to feel part of the Wizard Tower—to have the password just like she truly belonged.

  On the Adventurer, everything seemed happily simple and familiar. Tod sat in the cabin dipping crusty bread into the big pot of stew that Nicko had cooked, while the Night Ullr lay in the doorway keeping guard.

  “So, Tod,” Snorri said in her singsong accent. “How was today?”

  Tod took a gulp of lemonade. “Amazing,” she said.

  “And your mother’s friend?”

  “I love Dandra. Look, she did this. It’s real Magyk!” Tod took her paint-splashed pebble out of her pocket and held it in her palm. Nicko glanced at Snorri with a smile. He guessed what was going to happen.

  Very gently, Tod stroked the pebble. It slowly opened two little black eyes and stretched out four stumpy legs. “It’s a pet rock,” she said.

  “So it is,” said Nicko. “And they are greedy little things, pet rocks, so don’t feed it too much because it will get very heavy and lazy.”

  “Oh! Have you got one too?” asked Tod.

  “No, but Jen—I mean, the Queen—has lots. They live in the Rockery at the Palace. You must take yours down to meet them. With those green splashes all over it there is no chance of losing it.”

  “Does it have a name?” asked Snorri.

  “Not yet,” said Tod. “I’m going to get to know it first.” She stroked the pebble once more and it closed its eyes, drew in its stumpy legs and became just a green-spattered pebble.

  “So, Tod,” said Nicko, “it’s been a good day?”

  “Yes, it has,” said Tod. “Dandra told me so much about my mother and about . . . about Dad, too. She’d like me to stay if I want to. I can live with her and decide what I want to do. It’s what she promised my mother.” Tod sighed. “But . . . oh, it’s silly, I know. But I’ve been thinking . . .”

  “About home?” asked Snorri.

  Tod nodded. “I . . . guess I didn’t really understand that I was leaving, maybe forever. But now that I’m here, I keep thinking about Oskie and Ferdie. And Rosie and Jonas and little Torr and Jerra and . . . and how good they were to me. But I just ran away and left them. I can’t believe I did that.” Tod put her head in her hands.

  Snorri put her arms around Tod. “You did not run away. You left because it was your parents’ wish.”

  Tod shook her head. “I ran away. And left my friends in a total mess.”

  Nicko leaned forward. “Tod, you chose between two courses. And that is the trouble with choosing—there is always the one you didn’t take. It may have been better, it may have been worse, but that’s not the point. You could not choose both. And sometimes, when the tide is running fast, you have only one chance to decide. You do your best at the time, with what you know then. It’s tough, but that’s how it goes. Personally, I think you caught the tide just right.”

  Tod shook her head. She wished she could feel so sure.

  “You see, Tod, life is like a sea passage,” said Snorri. “You sail your boat the best you can, but sometimes there is a storm. All you can do is to keep a steady hand on the tiller and hope for better weather.”

  Nicko grinned. “You’re doing pretty well so far. Not hit any rocks yet.”

  But somewhere in the middle of a dark forest, rocks were appearing. Mitza Draddenmora Draa was nervously standing in the middle of a prowling circle of Garmin, clutching one of Tod’s old tops. She threw it into the pack with a yell. “Find!”

  PASSWORD

  It was late in the evening when Tod walked back through the boatyard with Nicko and Snorri. They headed along the tunnel that burrowed through the thick Castle walls and out into a lantern-lit path that wound behind a straggle of typically tall, narrow Castle houses. The path came to an end at an impressive wall, beyond which Tod could see the Wizard Tower rising up, awash with lights. There was a gate set into the wall and Nicko gave it a push. It swung open into the Wizard Tower courtyard and Tod felt her worries fading as the exhilaration of the Magyk swirling beyond took over.

  She turned to Nicko and Snorri and hugged them both. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for everything.”

  “We shall come with you to the doors, Tod,”
said Snorri.

  But Tod wanted to be alone with the nighttime Magyk chasing through the courtyard. Proudly, she held up her purple password card. “I’m fine, thanks. I’ve got my night password.”

  Nicko understood—sometimes he just wanted to be alone with his boat and the sea. “Tod’s okay,” he said to Snorri. And then to Tod, “We’ll be at the boatyard tomorrow. Come and see us, yes?”

  Tod smiled. “Yes, please.”

  Nicko gave her a thumbs-up and closed the gate.

  Tod wandered slowly across the courtyard, savoring the sensation of moving through Magyk, feeling as if she were walking underwater. A delicate purple light suffused the air; long, slow, lazy arcs of indigo, green and orange were dropping down from the Wizard Tower like pinpoints of light from an enormous firework. Tod walked dreamily through the lights, some of which landed at her feet, bouncing up into the air again and then zooming away, flashing upward like shooting stars in reverse. The air felt sharp and alive, popping and fizzing as she drifted through it, heading toward the shimmering marble steps that rose up to the silver doors.

  At the foot of the steps, Tod stopped and looked up at the Wizard Tower, entranced by the myriad of purple windows flickering so subtly that she could only see the movement when she looked away from them. One in particular—the UnStable window that Dandra had showed her that morning—caught Tod’s attention. As she gazed at it, trying to figure out whether it was there or not, she became aware of another kind of movement. She swung around and to her horror, Tod saw the unmistakable pale, flat-headed shape of a Garmin lurking in the shadows at the base of the Wizard Tower.

  A flight of steps had never felt so long and so exposed. Tod raced up them, and at the top, with a stab of fear, she realized that she had forgotten the password and she no longer had the purple card in her hand. Near to panic, Tod guessed she must have dropped it as she fled up the steps. Slowly, she turned around and there was the slip of card lying dark against the white of the lowest step. But not far beyond it stood the tall, unwieldy shape of a Garmin.