by Angie Sage
Marcia carefully brushed the snow from the boy’s dark blue mouth while Jenna lay her hand on his white sticklike arm. She had never felt anyone so cold before. Surely he was already dead?
Jenna watched Marcia lean over the boy’s face and mutter something under her breath. Marcia stopped, listened and looked concerned. Then she muttered again, more urgently this time, “Quicken, Youngling. Quicken.” She paused for a moment and then breathed a long slow breath over the boy’s face. The breath tumbled endlessly from Marcia’s mouth, on and on, a warm pale pink cloud that enveloped the boy’s mouth and nose and slowly, slowly seemed to take away the awful blue and replace it with a living glow. The boy did not stir, but Jenna thought that now she could see a faint rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing again.
“Quick!” whispered Marcia to Jenna. “He won’t survive if we leave him here. We’ll have to get him inside.” Marcia gathered the boy into her arms and carried him up the wide marble steps. As she reached the top, the solid silver doors to the Wizard Tower swung silently open before them. Jenna took a deep breath and followed Marcia and the boy inside.
7
WIZARD TOWER
It was only when the doors of the Wizard Tower had swung closed behind her and Jenna found herself standing in the huge golden entrance Hall that she realized just how much her life had changed. Jenna had never, ever seen or even dreamed of a place like this. She knew that most other people in the Castle would never see anything like it either. She was already becoming different from those she had left behind.
Jenna gazed at the unfamiliar riches that surrounded her as she stood, entranced, in the massive circular Hall. The golden walls flickered with fleeting pictures of mythical creatures, symbols and strange lands. The air was warm and smelled of incense. It was filled with a quiet, soft hum, the sound of the everyday Magyk that kept the Tower operating. Beneath Jenna’s feet the floor moved as if it were sand. It was made up of hundreds of different colors that danced around her boots and spelled out the words WELCOME PRINCESS, WELCOME. Then, as she gazed in surprise, the letters changed to read, HURRY UP!
Jenna glanced up to see Marcia, who was staggering a little as she carried the sentry, step onto a silver spiral staircase.
“Come on,” said Marcia impatiently. Jenna ran over, reached the bottom step and started to climb the stairs.
“No, just wait where you are,” explained Marcia. “The stairs will do the rest.”
“Go,” said Marcia loudly and, to Jenna’s amazement, the spiral staircase started turning. It was slow at first, but it soon picked up speed, whirling around faster and faster, up through the Tower until they reached the very top. Marcia stepped off and Jenna followed, jumping dizzily, just before the steps whirled back down again, called by another Wizard somewhere far below.
Marcia’s big purple front door had already sprung open for them, and the fire in the grate hastily burst into flames. A sofa arranged itself in front of the fire, and two pillows and a blanket hurled themselves through the air and landed neatly on the sofa without Marcia having to say a word.
Jenna helped Marcia lay the sentry boy down on the sofa. He looked bad. His face was pinched and white with cold, his eyes were closed and he had begun to shiver uncontrollably.
“Shivering’s a good sign,” said Marcia briskly, then clicked her fingers. “Wet clothes off.”
The ridiculous sentry uniform flew off the boy and fluttered to the floor in a garish damp heap.
“You’re rubbish,” Marcia told it, and the uniform dismally gathered itself together and dripped over to the rubbish chute, where it threw itself in and disappeared.
Marcia smiled. “Good riddance,” she said. “Now, dry clothes on.”
A pair of warm pajamas appeared on the boy, and his shivering became a little less violent.
“Good,” said Marcia. “We’ll just sit with him for a while and let him warm up. He’ll be fine.”
Jenna settled herself down on a rug by the fire, and soon two steaming mugs of hot milk appeared. Marcia sat down beside her. Suddenly Jenna felt shy. The ExtraOrdinary Wizard was sitting next to her on the floor, just like Nicko did. What should she say? Jenna couldn’t think of anything at all, except that her feet were cold, but she was too embarrassed to take her boots off.
“Best get those boots off,” said Marcia. “They’re soaking.”
Jenna unlaced her boots and pulled them off.
“Look at your socks. What a state,” Marcia tutted.
Jenna went red. Her socks had previously belonged to Nicko, and before that they had been Edd’s. Or were they Erik’s? They were mostly darns and far too big for her.
Jenna waggled her toes by the fire and dried her feet.
“Would you like some new socks?” asked Marcia.
Jenna nodded shyly. A pair of thick, warm purple socks appeared on her feet.
“We’ll keep the old ones though,” said Marcia. “Clean,” she told them. “Fold.” The socks did what they were told; they shook off the dirt, which landed in a sticky pile on the hearth, then they neatly folded themselves up and lay down by the fire next to Jenna. Jenna smiled. She was glad Marcia hadn’t called Sarah’s best darning rubbish.
The midwinter afternoon drew on, and the light began to fade. The sentry boy had at last stopped shivering and was sleeping peacefully. Jenna was curled up by the fire, looking at one of Marcia’s Magyk picture books when there was a frantic banging on the door.
“Come on, Marcia. Open the door. It’s me!” came an impatient voice from outside.
“It’s Dad!” yelled Jenna.
“Shh…” said Marcia. “It might not be.”
“For goodness’ sake, open the door, will you?” said the impatient voice.
Marcia did a quick Translucent Spell. Sure enough, to her irritation, outside the door stood Silas and Nicko. But that wasn’t all. Sitting next to them, with its tongue lolling out and drool dribbling down its fur, was the wolf, wearing a spotted neckerchief.
Marcia had no choice but to let them in.
“Open!” Marcia abruptly told the door.
“Hello, Jen.” Nicko grinned. He stepped carefully onto Marcia’s fine silk carpet, closely followed by Silas and the wolf, whose madly wagging tail swept Marcia’s treasured collection of Fragile-Fairy pots crashing to the floor.
“Nicko! Dad!” yelled Jenna and hurled herself into Silas’s arms. It felt like months since she had seen him. “Where’s Mum. Is she all right?”
“She’s fine,” said Silas. “She’s gone to Galen’s with the boys. Nicko and I just came by to give you this.” Silas fished around in his deep pockets. “Hang on,” he said. “It’s here somewhere.”
“Are you mad?” Marcia demanded. “What do you think you are doing, coming here? And get that wretched wolf away from me.”
The wolf was busy dribbling over Marcia’s python shoes.
“He’s not a wolf,” Silas told her. “He’s an Abyssinian wolfhound descended from the Maghul Maghi wolfhounds. And his name is Maximillian. Although, he might allow you to call him Maxie for short. If you’re nice to him.”
“Nice!” spluttered Marcia, almost speechless.
“Thought we might stay over,” Silas carried on, tipping out the contents of a small grubby sack over Marcia’s ebony and jade Ouija table and sifting through them. “It’s too dark now to go into the Forest.”
“Stay? Here?”
“Dad! Look at my socks, Dad,” said Jenna, waggling her toes in the air.
“Mmm, very nice, poppet,” said Silas, still fishing around in his pockets. “Now where did I put it? I know I brought it with me…”
“Do you like my socks, Nicko?”
“Very purple,” said Nicko. “I’m frozen.”
Jenna led Nicko to the fire. She pointed at the sentry boy. “We’re waiting for him to wake up. He got frozen in the snow, and Marcia rescued him. She made him breathe again.”
Nicko whistled, impressed. “Hey,” he said, �
��I reckon he’s waking up now.” The sentry boy had opened his eyes and was staring at Jenna and Nicko. He looked terrified. Jenna stroked his shaven head. It was bristly and still a little cold.
“You’re safe now,” she told him. “You’re with us. I’m Jenna, and this is Nicko. What’s your name?”
“Boy 412,” mumbled the sentry.
“Boy Four One Two…?” Jenna repeated, puzzled. “But that’s a number. No one has a number for a name.”
The boy just stared at Jenna. Then he closed his eyes again and went back to sleep.
“That’s weird,” said Nicko. “Dad told me they only had numbers in the Young Army. There were two of them outside just now but he made them think we were Guards. And he remembered the password from years ago.”
“Good old Dad. Except,” she said thoughtfully, “I suppose he’s not my dad. And you’re not my brother…”
“Don’t be daft. ’Course we are,” said Nicko gruffly. “Nothing can change that. Silly Princess.”
“Yes, I suppose,” said Jenna.
“Yes, of course,” said Nicko.
Silas had overheard the conversation. “I’ll always be your dad, and Mum will always be your mum. It’s just you have a first mum as well.”
“Was she really a Queen?” asked Jenna.
“Yes. The Queen. Our Queen. Before we had these Custodians here.” Silas looked thoughtful and then his expression cleared as he remembered something and took off his thick woolen hat. There it was, in his hat pocket. Of course.
“Found it!” Silas said triumphantly. “Your birthday present. Happy birthday, poppet.” He gave Jenna the present she had left behind.
It was small and surprisingly heavy for its size. Jenna tore off the colored paper and held a little blue drawstring bag in her hand. She carefully pulled open the strings, holding her breath with excitement.
“Oh,” she said, not able to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “It’s a pebble. But it’s a really nice pebble, Dad. Thanks.” She picked out the smooth gray stone and put it in the palm of her hand.
Silas lifted Jenna onto his lap. “It’s not a pebble. It’s a pet rock,” he explained. “Try tickling it under its chin.”
Jenna wasn’t quite sure which end its chin was, but she tickled the rock anyway. Slowly the pebble opened its little black eyes and looked at her, then it stretched out four stumpy legs, stood up and walked around her hand.
“Oh, Dad, it’s brilliant,” gasped Jenna.
“We thought you’d like it. I got the spell from the Roving Rocks Shop. Don’t feed it too much though, otherwise it will get very heavy and lazy. And it needs a walk every day too.”
“I’ll call it Petroc,” said Jenna. “Petroc Trelawney.”
Petroc Trelawney looked as pleased as a pebble can look, which was pretty much the same as he had looked before. He drew in his legs, closed his eyes and settled back down to sleep. Jenna put him in her pocket to keep him warm.
Meanwhile Maxie was busy chewing the wrapping paper and dribbling down Nicko’s neck.
“Hey, get off, you dribble-bucket! Go on, lie down,” said Nicko, trying to push Maxie onto the floor. But the wolfhound wouldn’t lie down. He was staring at a large picture on the wall of Marcia in her Apprenticeship Graduation gown.
Maxie began to whine softly.
Nicko patted Maxie. “Scary picture, hey?” he whispered to the dog who wagged his tail halfheartedly and then yelped as Alther Mella appeared through the picture. Maxie had never got used to Alther’s appearances.
Maxie whimpered and burrowed his head under the blanket that covered Boy 412. His cold wet nose woke the boy up with a start. Boy 412 sat bolt upright and stared around him like a frightened rabbit. He didn’t like what he saw. In fact, it was his worst nightmare.
Any minute now the Young Army Commander would come for him and then he would be in real trouble. Consorting with the enemy—that was what they called it when someone talked to Wizards. And here he was with two of them. And an old Wizard ghost by the look of it. Not to mention the two weirdo kids, one with some kind of crown on her head and the other with those telltale green Wizard eyes. And the filthy dog. They’d taken his uniform too and put him in civilian clothes. He could be shot as a spy. Boy 412 groaned and put his head in his hands.
Jenna reached over and put her arm around him. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “We’ll look after you.”
Alther was looking agitated. “That Linda woman. She’s told them where you’ve gone. They’re coming here. They’re sending the Assassin.”
“Oh, no,” said Marcia. “I’ll CharmLock the main doors.”
“Too late,” gasped Alther. “She’s already in.”
“But how?”
“Someone left the door open,” said Alther.
“Silas, you idiot!” snapped Marcia.
“Right,” said Silas making for the door. “We’ll be off, then. And I’ll take Jenna with me. She’s obviously not safe with you, Marcia.”
“What?” squeaked Marcia indignantly. “She’s not safe anywhere, you fool!”
“Don’t you call me a fool,” spluttered Silas. “I am just as intelligent as you, Marcia. Just because I am only an Ordinary—”
“Stop it!” shouted Alther. “This is not the time to argue. For goodness’ sake, she’s coming up the stairs.”
Shocked, everyone stopped and listened. All was quiet. Far too quiet. Except for the whisper of the silver stairs steadily turning as they brought a passenger slowly up through the Wizard Tower right to the very top, to Marcia’s purple door.
Jenna looked scared. Nicko put his arm around her. “I’ll keep you safe, Jen,” he said. “You’ll be all right with me.”
Suddenly Maxie put his ears back and gave a bloodcurdling howl. Everyone’s hair stood up on the backs of their necks.
Crash! The door burst open.
Silhouetted against the light stood the Assassin. Her face was pale as she surveyed the scene before her. Her eyes glanced coldly about her, searching for her prey. The Princess. In her right hand she carried a silver pistol, the one that Marcia had last seen ten years ago in the Throne Room.
The Assassin stepped forward.
“You are under arrest,” she said menacingly. “You are not required to say anything at all. You will be taken from here to a place and—”
Boy 412 stood up, trembling. It was just as he had expected—they had come for him. Slowly he walked over toward the Assassin. She stared at him coldly.
“Out of my way, boy,” snapped the Assassin. She struck out at Boy 412 and sent him crashing to the floor.
“Don’t do that!” yelled Jenna. She rushed over to Boy 412, who was sprawled on the floor. As she knelt down to see if he was hurt, the Assassin grabbed her.
Jenna twisted around. “Let go of me!” she yelled.
“Keep still, Queenling,” sneered the Assassin. “There’s someone who wants to see you. But he wants to see you—dead.”
The Assassin raised the silver pistol to Jenna’s head.
Crack!
A Thunderflash flew from Marcia’s outstretched hand. It knocked the Assassin off her feet and threw Jenna clear of her grasp.
“Begird and Preserve!” shouted Marcia. A brilliant white sheet of light sprung up like a bright blade from the floor and encircled them, cutting them off from the unconscious Assassin.
Then Marcia threw open the hatch that covered the rubbish chute.
“It’s the only way out,” she said. “Silas, you go first. Try and do a Cleaning Spell as you go down.”
“What?”
“You heard what I said. Get in, will you!” snapped Marcia, giving Silas a hefty shove through the open hatch. Silas tumbled into the rubbish chute and then, with a yell, he was gone.
Jenna pulled Boy 412 to his feet. “Go on,” she said and pushed him headfirst into the chute. Then she jumped in, closely followed by Nicko, Marcia and an overexcited wolfhound.
8
THE RUBBISH CHUTE
When Jenna threw herself into the rubbish chute she was so terrified of the Assassin that she did not have time to be afraid of the chute. But as she tumbled uncontrollably downward into the pitch blackness she felt an overwhelming panic well up inside her.
The inside of the rubbish chute was as cold and slippery as ice. It was made from a highly polished black slate, seamlessly cut and joined by the Master Masons who had built the Wizard Tower many hundreds of years ago. The drop was steep, too steep for Jenna to have any control over how she fell, so she tumbled and twisted this way and that, rolling from side to side.
But the worst thing was the dark.
It was thick, deep, impenetrable black. It pressed in on Jenna from all sides and although she strained her eyes desperately to see anything, anything at all, there was no response. Jenna thought she had gone blind.
But she could still hear. And behind her, coming up fast, Jenna could hear the swish of damp wolfhound fur.
Maxie the wolfhound was having a good time. He liked this game. Maxie had been a little surprised when he had jumped into the chute and not found Silas ready with his ball. He was even more surprised when his paws didn’t seem to work anymore, and he had briefly scrabbled around trying to find out why. Then he had bumped his nose on the back of the scary woman’s neck and tried to lick a tasty morsel of something off her hair, but at that point she had given him a violent shove that had flipped him over onto his back.
And now Maxie was happy. Nose first, paws held in close, he became a streamlined streak of fur, and he overtook them all. Past Nicko, who grabbed at his tail but then let go. Past Jenna, who screamed in his ear. Past Boy 412, who was curled into a tight ball. And then past his master, Silas. Maxie felt uncomfortable going past Silas, because Silas was Top Dog and Maxie was Not Allowed in Front. But the wolfhound had no choice—he sailed by Silas in a shower of cold stew and carrot peelings and carried on down.
The rubbish chute snaked around the Wizard Tower like a giant helter-skelter buried deep inside the thick walls. It dropped steeply between each floor, taking with it not only Maxie, Silas, Boy 412, Jenna, Nicko and Marcia but also the remains of all the Wizards’ lunches, which had been tipped into the chute that afternoon. The Wizard Tower was twenty-one stories high. The top two floors belonged to the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, and on each floor below that there were two Wizard apartments. That’s a lot of lunches. It was wolfhound heaven, and Maxie ate enough scraps on his way down the Wizard Tower to keep him going for the rest of the day.
