PathFinder (World of Septimus Heap)

by Angie Sage

  Tod smiled. “No,” she said. “We only had the sea. And fish. Lots of fish.”

  “There you are, then,” said the Queen. “Fish aren’t at all Magykal, from what I’ve heard.” She smiled. “I’m sure your mother is right. Mothers generally are.”

  Tod was not used to talking about her mother. “Are they?” she asked.

  The Queen gave Sarah an amused glance. “Well, usually,” she said. “So, Tod, you must let your mother know you have arrived safely.”

  “My mother’s dead,” Tod blurted out.

  The Queen looked shocked. “Oh!” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” Tod said. “I didn’t mean to . . .” Her voice trailed away. She realized she had never spoken those words before.

  “I do understand,” said the Queen, leaning across the table confidentially. “My mother is dead too. She was killed when I was only a day old.”

  “Oh!” said Tod. “Oh, that’s awful.”

  “It is,” said the Queen. “Well, it is for her. But I was lucky. I found another mother.” She nodded toward Sarah Heap, who was now sipping some herbal tea. “And another father—even though I found out later I still had my first one. And of course I got a whole bunch of brothers.” She looked at Nicko, who was flapping his hands like seal flippers and making barking noises. “And very noisy, silly brothers they are, too.”

  Nicko’s seal impression was being directed at a young man who was sitting next to the Queen. He had earlier been introduced to Tod as the Chief Hermetic Scribe. Tod had no idea what a Chief Hermetic Scribe might be, but she thought the young man looked really nice. He had dark floppy hair, which every now and then he pushed back from his eyes. He was wearing a long, deep-blue jacket with gold cuffs, which Tod thought suited him very well. He had spoken to Tod a few times—asking her where she had come from and how she knew Nicko, but Tod had felt shy and had only managed one-word answers. But the Queen had no such trouble. She took the young man’s hand and said, “Beetle.”

  Tod was surprised; she couldn’t see a beetle anywhere.

  The young man obviously didn’t care about a stray beetle. He gave the Queen the kind of smile that Tod had seen Jerra give Annar. It made Tod feel strangely lonely.

  “Beetle,” said the Queen again. Tod stared at young man, trying to spot the beetle but with no luck. “Why don’t we show Tod the Wizard Tower after supper? It’s a beautiful evening.” She turned to Tod. “The Wizard Tower looks wonderful at night. You’ll be amazed.”

  “Thank you,” said Tod. “I would love to see it.” She twisted the gold-and-silver snake ring on her thumb. I’m going to the Wizard Tower, she silently told her mother. Just like you wanted me to.

  THE WIZARD TOWER

  No one ever forgets their first sight of the Wizard Tower at night, and Tod was no exception. As she walked out of the Palace Gate and looked along Wizard Way, the wide, torchlit avenue that led to it, Tod gasped in wonder. The Wizard Tower rose high into the clear night sky, eclipsing the stars. It was tall and elegant, shimmering with a silver sheen over which played a myriad of colored lights—fleetingly blue, purple, green and pink. The golden pyramid had become a pyramid of many colors reflecting the lights that glanced off it, seeming to be almost transparent at times.

  Tod walked up Wizard Way, flanked by Nicko, Snorri, the Queen and the Chief Hermetic Scribe, whom, she now realized, was actually called Beetle—although she found it hard to believe that this was his real name. Why would anyone name a baby after an insect? But Tod reminded herself she was in another country. For all she knew, lots of people in the Castle were named after insects. Maybe there were Millipedes, Bugs and Bees wandering around all over the place.

  The nearer Tod got to the Wizard Tower, the more unreal everything felt. Only a few days ago, with her mother and father both gone from her life forever, she had been marooned in her house with a woman who hated her. Now she had a new life, new friends and a very precious message from her mother—and every step she took was bringing her closer to the place her mother had wanted her to go.

  The party progressed slowly up the middle of Wizard Way—a beautiful broad avenue lined with silver torch posts, tall as trees. The torches were lit and the flames burned high and steady in the still night air, sending shifting shadows across the smooth limestone paving. On either side of Wizard Way was an interesting mixture of small shops—mainly to do with Magyk—all shuttered for the night.

  Tod was silent, content to be surrounded by the easy talk of her four companions. Even though they were so much older than her, their happy, joking friendliness made her feel part of the group. Their easy chatter reminded her of the Sarn family, and suddenly Tod missed Oskar and Ferdie terribly. How much she would love them to be with her right now, for them to be walking with her toward this Magykal place.

  They were approaching a magnificent silver gateway—the Great Arch, which led into the Wizard Tower courtyard—when they stopped outside one of the shops. Written on its signboard were the words: Number Thirteen: Magykal Manuscriptorium and Spell-Checkers Incorporated. The window was brightly lit with lanterns and stacked with neat piles of papers and books. It seemed that this was where Beetle lived, for he was putting a large key into the lock of the shop door.

  “I’m off,” Beetle told everyone. “It’s an early start tomorrow. I’ve got to sort out a Grula-Grula.”

  Nicko laughed. “You’re kidding me!” he said.

  Beetle looked rueful. “I wish,” he replied. “But unfortunately there’s one taken up residence over there.” He pointed across the Way to a shop on the other side: Bott’s Wizard Cloaks: New and Pre-Loved. “I promised Miranda Bott I’d fix it for her.”

  “Isn’t that a job for the Wizard Tower?” asked Nicko. “They’ve got safe places to put creatures like that.”

  “Miranda won’t let them in,” Beetle explained. “She’s a bit against Wizards in general, you know, ever since her uncle Bertie got eaten by that Darke Dragon.”

  Tod listened, amazed. So much seemed to happen in the Castle.

  “That wasn’t their fault,” Nicko said.

  “Try telling Miranda that,” said Beetle, who clearly had. “So I have to get the wretched Grula out myself and take it to the Stranger Chamber in the Wizard Tower.”

  “Rather you than me,” said Nicko.

  “Yeah,” Beetle said ruefully. He turned to Tod and shook her hand. “It’s been very nice meeting you,” he said, smiling. “Welcome to the Castle. May your stay be a happy one.” Tod watched Beetle hug Snorri and Nicko good-bye, give the Queen a kiss and then he was gone, the door to the strange little shop closing behind him with an exuberant ping.

  The four now headed into the Great Arch. As they walked between the two burning torches on either side and stepped into the shadows, Tod was amazed to see that the inside of the arch was lined with the same brilliant blue stone shot through with gold that her precious box was made of. The huge amount of the Magykal stone, glittering in the light of the torches, amazed Tod.

  “Lapis lazuli,” the Queen told her. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

  Tod nodded, lost for words. Her hand closed around her precious lapis lazuli box safe in the deep, buttoned pocket of Dan’s fishing vest. She thought of the strange PathFinder with its lapis dome that nestled inside it and she knew she had a connection with the place she had come to. If only her parents were here to ask, Tod thought, they could have told her as much. But whatever they knew was lost now. She must find it out for herself.

  The Queen was chattering on like a tour guide. “There’s a lot of lapis here,” she was saying. “It’s one of the things that makes the Castle special. Ooh, look, doesn’t the tower look fabulous tonight!”

  Tod stepped into the Wizard Tower courtyard and stopped dead. The sight of the Wizard Tower suddenly so close made her feel dizzy. Twenty-one stories high, it reared up into the night sky, alive with silently flashing, popping, prancing, dancing lights of every color. The tower’s hundreds of tiny windows
glowed purple and Tod had a vivid impression of many lives being lived behind the windows. Feeling as though she were wading through water, Tod walked across the courtyard in a daze, following the Queen’s red cloak as she moved toward a flight of brilliant white marble steps, which led up to the tall silver doors of the Wizard Tower.

  Slowly, silently, the doors swung open, and there, standing at the top of the steps, Tod saw a long-robed figure dark against the lambent lights behind. As though from a great distance, Tod heard the Queen call out, “Hey, Septimus!”

  A river of brilliant sparkles streamed out from the doors and danced toward her. She heard ringing in her ears. Is this, Tod thought, the sound of Magyk? A roar from afar filled her head and everything went dark.

  “Oh, crumbs,” said the Queen. “She’s fainted.”

  AWAKE

  Tod opened her eyes and realized that she had no idea where she was. She lay still, looking at the strange shifting patterns all around her, trying to make sense of things. She could smell something sweet and heady. She could hear tinkling sounds of tiny bells, or was it faraway singing? Or both? Slowly, the world began to swim into focus. Tod realized that she was in bed—a bed high off the ground with a tall headboard that rose up behind her. The bed was in some kind of dark-colored tent, the walls of which seemed to move as though in a breeze. Blearily, Tod considered things. So . . . she was in bed. In a tent. Which meant she must be outside. But why?

  Pushing away fears that she had somehow been caught by Garmin, Tod sat up. A tent is not a good prison, she told herself, and besides, the bed was far too comfortable. She threw back the featherlight quilt and swung her legs over the side, her feet not reaching the floor. She noticed that she was wearing a long green nightgown, which felt very soft and extremely strange. Tod had never worn a dress in her life; she was a typical PathFinder girl raised in hooded canvas smocks, tightly woven Fisher jumpers and sailcloth trews.

  Tod slipped down from the bed, and the floor felt surprisingly soft and warm. Although her other clothes had disappeared, her father’s old fishing vest was neatly folded at the end of the bed. Anxiously, Tod checked the pockets, then smiled with relief—her PathFinder box was still safe. In another pocket, her fingers closed around something almost as precious—a pebble splashed with green paint from the last time Dan had painted the shutters, which she had taken from underneath her house to remind her of home. Tod put the salt-stained vest on over her nightgown, then she parted the curtains and peered out.

  The scent of incense and the taste of spices on her breath greeted her and gave her the strange feeling of remembering something long forgotten. To her amazement Tod saw that she was indoors; and what was even stranger, she was in a huge room full of tents. Tod stepped out of the tent, letting the soft cloth fall closed behind her, and looked up at the high, vaulted ceiling, which glimmered with a dull blue light like a cloudy night sky. She gazed around and saw that her tent was part of a circle of twelve tents, themselves circular, with the points of their roofs strung from the ceiling on long, shining ropes. Tod shook her head in amazement. Was she still dreaming? And if she wasn’t—where was she?

  Tod padded into the center of the circle, the floor feeling oddly soft and squashy beneath her bare feet. As she stood quiet and still, she became aware of the sound of breathing all around her and she realized that each tent contained its own sleeping occupant. All traces of sleep had now left Tod and a feeling that she was in a good place began to grow within her.

  In the dimness, the shape of a door shone out. Tall and arched, it was outlined in a shimmering, greenish blue. Tod decided to see what was on the other side of it. Treading quietly to avoid disturbing any of the occupants of the other tents (although there was no need, because the soft floor dampened all sound), Tod reached the door and gave a tentative push. It swung silently open and she stepped outside.

  Tod found herself in a wide corridor, dimly lit with a low blue light. Four other arched doors led off it and the signs on them read: Senior Girls’ Apprentice Dormitory, Junior Boys’ Apprentice Dormitory, Senior Boys’ Apprentice Dormitory and Apprentice Common Room. Tod turned back to look at the door she had come through and read the words Junior Girls’ Apprentice Dormitory. So, thought Tod, she was in some kind of school.

  A movement caught Tod’s eye and she stepped back against the wall, not wanting to be seen. She watched from the shadows and saw that a purple window at the end of the corridor had suddenly lit up, revealing what looked like a huge silver corkscrew going from the ceiling to the floor, steadily turning. Intrigued, Tod crept forward through the blue-black shadows and then stopped—there was something on the corkscrew and it was coming through the ceiling. Pressed against the wall, Tod watched. She realized that she was looking at someone’s feet: they were rotating around, moving slowly farther and farther down until Tod could see the whole figure, long-robed in blue and silhouetted against the purple window, traveling ever downward so that soon it was moving through the floor. As the head finally disappeared Tod crept forward and stared at what she now realized were revolving silver spiral stairs.

  The light from the purple window faded and Tod guessed that the window only lit up when there was someone on the stairs. As she watched the now-silver stairs still slowly turning, Tod began to piece together a jigsaw of memories. She remembered a wide avenue with burning torches high on their silver torch posts. She remembered going through an amazing blue archway and seeing a flight of brilliant white steps leading up to two tall silver doors. She remembered how the doors had swung open and a stream of purple and blue stars had come tumbling down toward her. She remembered the buzz of Magyk all around her . . . and then she remembered nothing more. Nothing until she had woken up inside her tent.

  I think, Tod said to herself, I’m in the Wizard Tower.

  DANDRA DRAA

  Buzzing with excitement, Tod watched the stairs revolving downward and wondered if she was brave enough to step onto them herself. She saw each flat, grooved slab of silver briefly touch the edge of the floor and then move on down, a few seconds later to be replaced with the next tread and then the next. Tod decided to go for it. She was about to step on when she became aware of someone above on the stairs. Quickly, she moved back into the shadows.

  Tod saw a solid, well-worn pair of shiny brown boots appear through the hole in the ceiling. Grazing the top of the boots was a purple robe edged in a shimmering purple silk ribbon. Remembering that only the ExtraOrdinary Wizard wore purple, Tod gazed in awe as the young man with purple ribbons hanging from his sleeves slowly rotated down. He was immersed in a book, oblivious to his watcher in the shadows. Her gaze took in a belt of gold and platinum, embellished with Magykal signs and symbols, a teardrop-shaped lapis-and-gold amulet around his neck, and as his face came into view she had to suppress a gasp of astonishment. He was Nicko. Except . . . Nicko had shaved. And he had taken the braids out of his hair. And was a bit taller. No, he wasn’t Nicko, and yet he so very nearly was. And then, as Tod stared at the young man’s curly straw-colored hair haloed in purple light she remembered something Nicko had said about the Wizard Tower: Yeah, some of my brothers work there. Tod grinned. So the ExtraOrdinary Wizard was one of Nicko’s brothers. Trust Nicko not to mention it, she thought.

  The ExtraOrdinary Wizard disappeared from view and the stairs were now clear. Taking a deep breath, Tod stepped onto them—and felt as though someone had pulled a rug out from under her. She clung on to the central post, determined to get off at the next possible opportunity. What Tod did not know was that the Apprentice dormitories were only one floor above the main entrance hall—known as the Great Hall. She would very soon have to get off.

  The dim night lighting of the upper domestic floors of the Wizard Tower grew ever brighter as the Great Hall came into view. Down Tod went, past the golden vaulted roof with its nighttime stars (a recent installation of the new ExtraOrdinary Wizard), past the flickering pictures on the wall depicting brave deeds and important moments from the
Wizard Tower’s history and into the peace and calm of the nighttime Great Hall.

  The tread and the floor met and, unsteadily, Tod stepped off onto what felt strangely like sand. Puzzled, she looked down and saw her name slowly appear in the grainy surface: WELCOME, ALICE TODHUNTER MOON, APPRENTICE.

  Tod gasped. She was an Apprentice? How had that happened? She could remember nothing about it. As she stared at the wobbly green letters, the words faded and were replaced with: SORRY. SHOULDN’T HAVE SAID THAT. MY MISTAKE. Tod was still staring at the floor, wondering what it might decide to say next, when she became aware of someone at her side. A tall woman with an aquiline nose and thick, short dark hair—through which ran a striking streak of white—had appeared from nowhere. She wore a long, somewhat formal pale blue robe with shiny red ribbons on the hem and elaborate green snakes embroidered up the sleeves. She smiled at Tod delightedly.

  “Alice!” she said, grabbing both of Tod’s hands in her own. “Are you feeling better now?”

  Tod nodded.

  “Still wandering around at night,” the woman-with-snakes said with a huge smile. She let go of Tod’s hands, stepped back and smiled. “Ah, I can see you do not remember me. But then, you were only four.”

  But Tod did remember. She remembered the shining green eyes and the half-amused smile.

  “I am Dandra,” the woman said. “Dandra Draa.”

  “My mother’s friend,” said Tod.

  “Indeed I was.” Dandra corrected herself: “No, Alice, I am your mother’s friend. And I will always be. I promised her that I would be a second mother to you and that when you were fourteen—which is a good age to begin to be acquainted with Magyk—you could come to the Wizard Tower and see how you liked the old trade.” Dandra took in Tod’s bemused look. “The old trade—what some call Wizarding. Or Magyk. Sorcery. Bewitchment. Conjuring. Call it what you will. If you have a talent for it, this is the place to be.” She shook her head. “How the time has flown. I can hardly believe you are fourteen already.”