The Smoking Hourglass

by Jennifer Bell

  Ivy lurched into a sprint, her heart pounding, Scratch clutched tightly in her hand.

  ‘They’re coming!’ Seb shouted, chasing her down. ‘Faster!’

  She glanced over her shoulder. Jack-in-the-Green was airborne, shooting towards them with his spiky limbs tucked under his torso like a giant green dart. Alongside him, Selena sped through the rain, her dark plait lashing whip-like over her shoulders. She bared her needle-like teeth as she locked eyes with Ivy. ‘Your bodies will rot in here!’ she shrieked. ‘No one will ever find you!’

  Ivy thumped into Valian’s side.

  ‘Ivy – look out!’

  But she had already overbalanced.

  ‘Whoa!’ She felt her feet slip from beneath her …

  And then she was falling.

  ‘Seb!’ The grey stone blurred past her on either side. Her limbs flailed. ‘Valian!’

  She hit an invisible surface and stalled in mid-air, as if she was floating. She couldn’t see anything supporting her. After a few seconds she began sinking again, but this time there was something cold pressing against her body.

  She wriggled frantically. ‘Scratch!’ she screamed, bringing him to her ear. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘State changings Skaptikon,’ he cried. ‘Ivy needs be swimmings!’

  Swimming! Ivy kicked her legs. She stretched her hands above her head and hauled them down to her sides in powerful strokes. Her body surged upward.

  At first she couldn’t see the surface of the water – she could only feel the change between air and liquid – but then she angled her head and spotted the ripples made by the rain. The water came up to her shoulders.

  She took a deep breath and started treading water to stay afloat. She wasn’t sure how, but as she was falling, the air must have changed from gas to liquid.

  The nearest solid surface was a tall stone staircase ten metres away. At its summit she saw the underside of a circular platform, spilling over with weeds. Ivy paddled desperately towards it. With Scratch still locked in her grasp, it took all her energy.

  She yanked herself onto the bottom step and lay back, panting. Her clothes and skin were dry; around her was only air. ‘Can you see Seb and Valian anywhere?’ she asked Scratch. ‘Do you know where I am?’

  ‘Goings where Scratch try to see,’ he said sombrely, ‘but fallings too fast went.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said, giving him a squeeze. She was grateful just to have him there; she couldn’t imagine a worse place to be alone.

  As she recovered her senses, she considered how she might reach Seb and Valian. She had no clue how far away they were, and she had no feathers left with which to contact them. She regarded the endless maze of stairways and viaducts surrounding her and tried to dispel the feeling of panic.

  ‘Ivy?’ Scratch trilled in her hand. ‘Beings don’t sad. All is not losings.’

  Ivy sniffed, fighting the urge to cry. She clutched the little bell to her chest, using her whispering to sense the fragment of broken soul inside him. It was so warm and chirpy that it gave her hope.

  She thought about her whispering. Perhaps she could use the Jar of Shadows to help navigate; it was a fixed point in the Skaptikon. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and tried to refocus. Keep it together, she told herself.

  Thunder rumbled overhead as she got to her feet and plodded up the stairs to the circular platform. She concentrated on trying to control her senses – though in the thunderstorm it was difficult. Eventually she fixed on the heartbeat of the Jar of Shadows …

  And it was closer than before; much closer.

  As Ivy reached the top step, she hesitated. The platform was covered with weeds and pockmarked with crevices, as if an ancient battle had once taken place there. In the centre, standing by itself in its frame, was a wooden door painted powder-blue and decorated with pale dancing figures. It was the only structure not made of stone that Ivy had seen in the Skaptikon.

  She lifted Scratch to her chest. ‘The jar is here,’ she decided. The heartbeat was stronger than ever before, and a mournful voice began to crystallize in her mind. She caught words, but they weren’t English. ‘It feels like it’s right in front of me.’

  Suddenly the floor tipped and Ivy dropped to her knees, clinging to the weeds for support. Her vision wavered.

  Scratch jangled. ‘All in Ivy’s head it’s beings!’ he told her.

  His voice sounded warped. The Skaptikon must be playing tricks on her hearing as well as her balance, Ivy realized. She knew she had to fight against it. She curled her hands into fists and summoned all her strength, focusing hard on the Jar of Shadows. Its voice tapered into one clear pulse. It was coming from behind the door.

  She approached it slowly. The broken soul within the jar sounded louder and clearer with every step. This is it. Her stomach fluttered as she reached for the brass handle and pressed down.

  ‘Ivy, no!’ Scratch screamed.

  She drew her hand away, feeling his anguish. ‘Scratch, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Scratch not understandings,’ he said, his voice brittle. ‘Ivy not wantings to open jar. What Ivy thinks doing?’

  ‘Open the jar?’ Ivy repeated. ‘I don’t want to—’ She froze and stared at the doorhandle, suddenly remembering one of the punchlines from Stanley’s jokes. When is a door not a door? … When it’s ajar.

  Her chest tightened as she took a step back, realization sweeping through her. The Skaptikon was tricking her … The door was the jar. She’d been about to open Pandora’s box!

  She steadied herself. Fool the Skaptikon like it fools you – that had been Johnny Hands’ advice. Perhaps she had to make the Skaptikon believe that she could see the truth – a jar, not a door?

  Imagining hard, she reached down to the base of the door and spread her arms wide as if she was about to lift the entire doorframe into the air. As her hands touched the wooden surface, it transformed into porcelain, and a large jar – covered in the same white and blue patterns as the door had been – appeared before her. Ivy strained to lift it but managed only to slide it to the very edge of the platform.

  Behind her she heard a rustle, and she swivelled on her heels, reaching for her yo-yo.

  ‘Ivy, you found it!’ said a familiar voice.

  ‘Seb?’ Her eyes glowed with relief as he came into focus. ‘Thank goodness! Are you OK? What happened?’

  ‘We tried looking for you,’ he told her, stepping closer.

  Ivy felt so thankful, her legs went weak. ‘It’s all right. I had Scratch with me.’

  ‘You should get away from the jar,’ he urged, staring at it over her shoulder. ‘It’s dangerous.’

  Ivy frowned. She wanted to run over to him, but there was something about his voice that made her hesitate. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. ‘Are you … OK?’

  Behind Seb, Ivy spied Valian heaving himself up onto the platform. He caught her eye immediately and put a finger to his lips. Ivy wasn’t sure what was going on. His uncommon trowel was glowing brightly, but it didn’t make sense; there were no dead people nearby.

  ‘Just step away from the jar,’ Seb repeated.

  As Valian stalked up behind him, a cold chill ran down Ivy’s spine. She raised her yo-yo in her right hand, Scratch clutched tightly in her left. ‘Why do you want me to get away from the jar, Seb?’ she asked.

  He scowled and came nearer.

  It’s not him, she thought with a start. It’s definitely not him.

  Against all her better judgement, she flicked her wrist in the direction of her brother, sending a torrent of wind spinning towards him. Seb made a horrible hissing sound and dived aside, dodging its path. Then, with a swift shake, he shifted into Jack-in-the-Green.

  Valian charged him from behind while Ivy did a loop-the-loop with her yo-yo, blasting off another cyclone.

  ‘STOP!’ screeched a voice from above. Selena Grimes swooped down to meet them, the real Seb struggling in her arms. Jack-in-the-Green snatched Valian in
a razor-sharp grip.

  Valian screamed as if he’d been stabbed.

  ‘You ignorant little children,’ Selena spat. ‘You really thought you could stop me from getting hold of the Jar of Shadows?’ She cackled and gripped Seb even tighter, making him yelp in pain.

  Ivy gritted her teeth, knowing she had to keep Selena talking to give herself time to think. ‘What are you going to do with it?’ she asked.

  ‘Break it open, of course,’ Selena replied, her eyes glinting wildly. ‘In the Grivens stadium. All around the world millions of uncommoners will be watching the contest. It will be the ultimate demonstration of the Dirge’s power.’

  Ivy thought of all the traders who would be at the stadium, her friends among them. ‘But everyone will be killed!’

  Selena sneered. ‘Of course. The Jar of Shadows contains the greatest fears of everyone on the planet. With its power, we will overwhelm anyone who dares oppose us, and the Dirge will finally rule Lundinor.’

  No matter what, Ivy knew she couldn’t let Selena take that jar – there were too many lives at stake. She wouldn’t be able to overcome Selena and Jack-in-the-Green by force; she needed some other leverage …

  ‘This can all be over in matter of seconds,’ Selena said with a nasty smile. ‘Step away from the jar and tell me where you’ve hidden that journal.’

  Amos’s journal? Ivy didn’t know why Selena was asking about that now. She looked at the Jar of Shadows, standing close to the edge of the platform. Perhaps that was her leverage …

  ‘You can’t use the jar if I destroy it first!’ Ivy shouted, shoving her yo-yo and Scratch into her pocket and placing both hands on the jar. If she gave it a hard enough shove, she could push it over the side.

  Selena’s eyes flashed with panic. ‘No!’

  ‘She’s bluffing,’ said Jack-in-the-Green. ‘If she destroys the jar, she will kill herself and her two friends.’

  Ivy turned and put her back to the jar so that they knew she meant business. ‘But at least then you won’t be able to use it. The Skaptikon might even contain its power, and no one else would be hurt.’ She looked down. If she sent the jar falling in the right direction, it would land in that patch of water she’d been floundering in a few minutes earlier and wouldn’t break.

  Selena scowled and held her sharp teeth to Seb’s neck, hissing.

  Hoping her plan would work, Ivy pushed with all her might. With a loud scraping sound, the jar toppled over and disappeared into the abyss.

  ‘Idiot!’ Selena shouted. She threw Seb aside and leaped over the edge of the platform. Jack-in-the-Green unfolded his wings and took to the air, Valian clutched tightly in his second set of arms.

  Ivy fumbled for her yo-yo, but Seb was quicker. He rolled to his feet and in one fluid motion, like a trained swordsman, drew his drumsticks. Aiming at Jack-in-the-Green, he struck the first blow decisively, beating both drumsticks double-time. The mantis’s wings twisted and he tumbled off course. Valian wriggled free and dropped down onto the stone with a thud.

  ‘Over here,’ Ivy cried, beckoning them to her side. She got to her knees and looked over the precipice. Half submerged in invisible liquid, Selena Grimes was locked in a strange dance with the Jar of Shadows. ‘We can still stop her.’ She turned, expecting to find Seb at her side, but he was kneeling twenty metres away, Valian slumped limply in his arms.

  ‘IVY!’ he yelled.

  Ivy got to her feet and rushed towards them. Valian’s jacket was hanging open and there was a large dark patch on his grey T-shirt. No, Valian. Not that …

  ‘He needs help,’ Seb said as he tugged the Great Uncommon Bag out from inside Valian’s jacket. ‘There’s so much blood. We need to get him to a hospital.’

  Valian’s eyes flickered open. He batted an arm at the bag and, understanding his meaning, Seb held it under his lips. Valian coughed and croaked, ‘Lundinor Infirmary.’

  ‘I’ll go through first,’ Seb suggested. ‘That way I can pull him through from the other side.’

  Once her brother had disappeared, Ivy used the last of her strength to push Valian into the bag. Tears ran down her cheeks as she guided his basketball boots into the darkness.

  Malicious laughter erupted behind her shoulder and she turned to see Selena Grimes rising through the air, Jack-in-the-Green flying beside her with the Jar of Shadows in his arms.

  There was an empty feeling in the pit of Ivy’s stomach as she crawled into the bag.

  They had failed. The Dirge now possessed one of the Great Uncommon Good.

  Ivy wiggled her toes, feeling crisp sheets. Her head was resting on something soft. She opened her eyes and saw that she was lying on a narrow camp bed in a large canvas tent. The walls were covered with hundreds of pockets, each containing a flask, vial or bottle filled with a different coloured liquid, some bubbling or steaming. The air reeked of antiseptic and there was a chatter of voices outside.

  With difficulty, she turned her head and spotted Seb and Valian asleep on camp beds beside her, their faces shining with sweat. ‘Seb?’ she hissed.

  She remembered Valian’s wound but guessed, from the peaceful expression on his face, that he had received treatment. The Lundinor Infirmary. That’s where Valian had sent them.

  All at once she recalled what had happened to the Jar of Shadows. She had to warn people! She tried to sit up, but immediately her vision swirled. Instead, she reached for her satchel, which was sitting at the end of her bed. Scratch trilled as she tugged him out.

  ‘Safe Ivy’s,’ he said in a relieved voice. She hugged him tightly, grateful for his help in the Skaptikon. ‘Nurses tent bringing to you,’ he explained. ‘Knowings of your face, so sendings featherlight to Sylvie Granma.’

  ‘Granma Sylvie – is she here?’

  Scratch vibrated. ‘Visitings once she but sleepings were you.’

  Slowly Ivy grasped what he was saying. The infirmary staff had recognized Ivy and Seb – doubtless from pictures in the newspapers last winter – and contacted Granma Sylvie. Ivy wondered if anyone had guessed that they’d come from the Skaptikon. She didn’t know how long they’d been there.

  She rummaged through her satchel, searching for something she could use to attract attention. Amos’s journal and the photo frame would be of no help; she had no feathers left, and her allowance bag was full of tiny low-grade objects she had no idea how to use.

  Then she spotted a piece of black card with gold writing on it in one of the inside pockets and pulled it out.

  Johnny Hands’ business card. Ivy recalled his words: ‘I desire to enquire.’

  The tent walls suddenly flapped and Johnny Hands appeared from thin air, sitting on a chair at the foot of Ivy’s bed. ‘Good evening, Ivy Sparrow,’ he said, crossing one leg over the other and removing his jester’s hat.

  Ivy wasn’t sure how he’d got there so quickly – some trick of the dead, no doubt.

  ‘I’m guessing you want to enquire about my tutoring services.’

  Ivy frowned. ‘What? No, I need your help …’ She wasn’t sure what to tell him – that they’d been to the Skaptikon and failed to stop Selena Grimes from finding the Jar of Shadows?

  ‘Ah, my mistake.’ Johnny Hands traced the brim of his jester’s hat with his bony fingers. ‘I heard you were in the market for a tutor and presumed that, since I’m probably the only other whisperer you know, you’d need my services.’

  Ivy choked. ‘You’re a whisperer?’ She hadn’t even considered that the dead could be, let alone … Johnny Hands.

  ‘But of course,’ he said, twirling a hand through the air. ‘If you don’t believe me, ask yourself how it is that I know you’re looking for a teacher.’

  The only person other than Seb with whom Ivy had discussed her whispering was Mr Punch. The quartermaster had suggested finding a tutor, but surely he wouldn’t have revealed Ivy’s secret to Johnny Hands unless …

  She remembered Johnny Hands spying on Jack-in-the-Green outside the shepherd’s hut. ‘Your patron … i
s it Mr Punch?’

  He flashed his crooked teeth.

  There was obviously more to him than Ivy – or Valian – knew. If he had the trust of Mr Punch, perhaps it was safe to accept his offer of help. ‘I have so many questions,’ she admitted. It was amazing to meet someone with the same gift as her. ‘How do I turn it off? Do you suffer from the headaches too?’

  ‘I’m afraid you can never turn it off,’ Johnny Hands said, ‘but you can increase or decrease your field of sense. For example’ – he floated up and rose towards the tent roof, turning slowly in mid-air – ‘I can control my whispering so that I only sense what’s inside this tent. It’s always easier to use the natural barriers around you – walls, lines in the pavement, furniture; that kind of thing.’ He hovered back to his seat. ‘Your turn.’

  Ivy looked at Seb and Valian, who were still asleep. She had time for one attempt.

  All around her she could sense the voices of broken souls in the infirmary. She tried to ignore anything beyond the tent walls, imagining the whole world only existed within that small space. Slowly the muttering began to fade.

  ‘I think it’s working!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Good,’ Johnny Hands said. ‘Now try to direct your senses towards me. Tell me – how many uncommon objects do I have upon my person right now?’

  A few voices began murmuring as Ivy concentrated on Johnny Hands. They sounded shrill and metallic; the trapped souls of uncommon objects.

  She counted. ‘Three?’

  Johnny Hands clapped. ‘Well done!’

  There was a rustle outside the tent. Ivy tensed as she saw the silhouettes of two people talking in hushed voices.

  One was tall and slim. ‘I understand what you’re saying but I can’t take you with me.’ Granma Sylvie – Ivy would recognize her voice anywhere. ‘The deeper we go into that place, the more I worry about what we might find; what I might have hidden from you.’

  ‘Hidden from me? Pish,’ the other figure remarked with a familiar Cockney drawl. Ethel. ‘Believe me, I knew you, Sylv. There’s no way you were involved with the Dirge, no matter what this memory of yours means.’