SandRider

by Angie Sage

  “I’m going to find Mum and Dad. They need to know about Sam.”

  “But Jen, you can’t. It’s dangerous—and especially for you. You know, now you’re Queen.”

  Jenna shrugged. “Queen or Princess, Sep, it makes no difference. Anyway, it’s not as dangerous as you think. I’ve got . . . connections there now.”

  “Connections?”

  Jenna took Septimus’s arm and walked him across the starting grid.

  “Oi!” came a yell from a steward. “Getoffthecourse!” On race day, respect for the Queen came second to the sanctity of the track.

  Jenna shouted out her apologies, then she steered Septimus and his tiger away. They headed up the steps beside the final ramp that swept down from the top of the Castle Wall toward the race finish. Once they had reached the battlements, Jenna glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot and continued walking. There was just room for the two of them on the cinder track that ran beside the polished icy snow of the racecourse.

  “Sep,” Jenna said, “you know how Morwenna from the Wendron Witches tried to kidnap me just before I was crowned?”

  Septimus nodded. Jenna had got the better of the Wendrons’ Witch Mother, but it had been a dangerous moment.

  “And you know that if I ever have a daughter, the Wendrons will be after her as soon as she is born?”

  Septimus looked at Jenna, shocked. “Jen, you’re not . . .”

  Jenna laughed. “No, Sep. I am not planning on having a daughter just yet. But if I do I am determined not to be held to ransom by those witches. And so . . .” Jenna dropped her voice and looked around to make sure no one was listening. “I have been making, shall we say . . . arrangements. I have my own witches in the Forest now. Spies.”

  Septimus looked at Jenna with new respect. “Wow, Jen. How did you do that?”

  “With this.” Jenna drew back her red cloak, which was lined with white fur. Underneath she wore a Port Witch Coven cloak in deepest black.

  Septimus looked disapproving. “You’ve still got that old thing?” he asked.

  “Well, obviously I have still got it, Sep. This is why I am wearing it,” Jenna teased.

  Septimus pulled a face.

  “Hey, don’t be grumpy, Sep. It’s very useful. A Queen needs a bit of an edge to her. And this is my edge.” Jenna waved the cloak at Septimus. He stepped back and nearly slipped headlong onto the racetrack. “Oops, careful! Sep, don’t look so worried. This cloak doesn’t do much at all. I rely on other enticements—a promise of safe haven in the Palace anytime they need it. A bag of gold every MidWinter Feast and free food at Wizard Sandwiches.”

  “Free food at Wizard Sandwiches is an enticement?” Septimus grinned. “I’d have thought never having to go to Wizard Sandwiches would work better.”

  Jenna smiled. When she was with Septimus her cares dropped away and she felt like a teenager again. “You are so mean, Sep.”

  “As ExtraOrdinary Wizard I am supposed to be mean,” Septimus replied with a smile. “It’s part of the job description.”

  “Silly boy. But seriously, Sep, the thing with witches is that on a personal level, they don’t have any money at all. Some of the covens are quite rich but it doesn’t mean that the novices see any of it. And they are often hungry, especially in the winter. The newbies usually end up with just the bones and gristle at the bottom of the wolverine stew pot.”

  “Oh, yuck,” said Septimus.

  “So being able to eat for free is wonderful for them. And being somewhere warm. And of course Wizard Sandwiches is not the kind of place that asks questions.”

  “Most of them look like they belong to a coven anyway,” Septimus said.

  “Exactly,” Jenna agreed. “So you are not to worry about me. My escorts are waiting and I’m going straight to Galen’s treehouse. I’ll spend the night there and bring Mum and Dad back tomorrow.”

  “But can’t your witch spies just take a message to Mum and Dad?” Septimus asked.

  “I am not having Mum upset by a couple of witches turning up and telling her that her son is dangerously ill. Really, Sep. Think about it.”

  “Okay, Jen. You’re the boss.” Septimus knew when to keep quiet.

  “Yep. That’s right.” Jenna grinned.

  With Jim Knee trailing disconsolately behind, the Castle Queen and the ExtraOrdinary Wizard wandered along the battlements, looking down at the bright pennants that marked the edge of the course blowing in the breeze. They walked on in silence until Jenna said, “Actually, there is something you might want to know. Jo-Jo’s girlfriend, you know, Marissa?”

  “Oh, her,” Septimus said scathingly.

  “Hmm, her. Well, she’s up to something.”

  “So what’s new?” asked Septimus.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Jenna said. “But my two, er, contacts say that she’s working with Morwenna on something—and it’s a big deal.”

  “What kind of big deal?” Septimus asked.

  “They don’t know. But Marissa told Jo-Jo that she’s through with what she calls ‘small fry’ and she included not only him but you in that.” Jenna gave Septimus a quizzical look. “I don’t know why.”

  “Neither do I,” Septimus protested. “I’ve had nothing to do with Marissa. Well, not for ages, Jen. Honestly.”

  Jenna raised her eyebrows. “None of my business, Septimus Heap. Anyway, I thought you’d want to know.”

  They had reached the end of the wall and now took the steps beside the sled ramp down to the North Gate. At the drawbridge Jenna gave the bridge boy a silver crown. Everyone else paid to get into the Castle, but the tradition was that the Queen paid to get out. There was no fixed price, but anything less than a half crown would have been considered stingy.

  “Bye, Sep,” Jenna said. “See you tomorrow with Mum and Dad.”

  Septimus looked over to the Forest opposite. The tops of the trees were softened by snow and the contrast made the space beneath them seem even darker and more menacing than usual. He frowned. “Spies can’t always be trusted, you know.”

  Jenna nodded. “I know,” she said quietly.

  Septimus hugged Jenna and felt the witch cloak hanging heavy beneath the fine red velvet. “Be careful,” he said. “Please.”

  “I will,” said Jenna. She stood on tiptoe and gave Septimus a quick kiss. “Bye, Sep.” And then she was off, hurrying across the drawbridge.

  Septimus watched her go and suddenly he knew he could not bear to let her travel alone. And so, despite knowing he was playing with the safety of the Castle, he called out, “Jen! Wait!”

  Jenna stopped and turned. She saw Septimus framed in the North Gate arch, his purple robes blending into the shadows. She saw him crouch down and talk to the tiger, and when Septimus untied the rope and the tiger began to pad toward her, Jenna knew what he was doing. She waited for the tiger to come to her. It sat down in front of her and gave a low growl. Jenna took a step back. It had a severe case of cat breath.

  Jenna searched the tiger’s deep yellow eyes for any sign of the jinnee within but she could find nothing. “You are Jim Knee, aren’t you?” she asked warily.

  The tiger put its head on one side and winked.

  Jenna wondered if she had imagined it. “If you are Jim Knee, I command you to do that again.”

  The tiger stared up at her unblinking.

  Bother, Jenna thought. Not blinking on purpose is just the kind of thing Jim Knee would do. Jenna glanced across to Septimus who was watching from the shadows of the North Gate.

  “He’s yours, Jen!” he called out. “Send him back when you’re safe!”

  Jenna decided that Septimus must know his own jinnee. “Come with me, Jim Knee,” she said. The tiger gave another low growl and winked—twice. That was good enough for Jenna. “Thanks, Sep!” she called out.

  Septimus watched Jenna walk quickly away, her cloak red against the snow, the yellow-and-black tiger loping beside her. As they reached the edge of the Forest, the tiger began to disa
ppear as its stripes blended with the trees. Septimus squinted into the shadows and thought he caught a quick flash of silver—the telltale sign of a Wendron Witch, for the young ones all wore a mass of silver rings—and then Jenna’s red cloak was gone, vanished into the Forest.

  Septimus watched for a while longer. He thought of Jenna moving through the Forest with the witches and despite himself, he was impressed. He knew that as ExtraOrdinary Wizard he should not approve of Jenna’s contact with witches. The old saying that “a Wizard and Witch shall never agree, that one and one and one makes three,” was true. And yet what Jenna was doing felt right. She was venturing into the Forest on her own terms. She was making it hers. Maybe that was why the Wendron Witches wanted a Princess so much. Maybe they knew that one day, if they did not get their Princess, the Castle Queen would get them.

  THE TRIBE OF THREE

  As Septimus walked briskly back along the Castle battlements, Tod, Oskar and Ferdie were sitting on the landing stage beside the old Manuscriptorium boathouse. The sky was blue and cloudless and the winter sun shone down on the icy Moat and its snow-covered banks. Bright blue and gold pennants fluttered in the breeze showing the path of the racecourse, which ran in front of them along the Moat to a ramp—known as Forest Ramp—that led up the opposite bank away to their right, marked by two tall flagposts. This took the sleds out on a long loop, routing them close to the trees some hundred yards away on the outskirts of the Forest. Although the treetops were covered with snow, the trunks were dark and the Forest beyond looked mysterious in its winter gloom.

  From there the racecourse ran alongside the trees until in a breathtakingly steep dive it dropped into the Forest Pit—an old quarry. It then climbed out of the Pit and ran behind the old Infirmary before it took a sharp bend back toward the Castle and the North Gate drawbridge. After that a series of ramps took the sleds up onto the top of the Castle Wall—with a terrifying drop on either side—and then a steep descent down the final long ramp would send the sled hurtling down to the finish.

  But Tod did not want to think about the race. She had Septimus to see and she had Tribe of Three business to sort out. She jumped straight in. “The Orm Egg is about to hatch,” she said.

  “What?” Oskar and Ferdie chorused. And then, “How do you know?”

  Tod told them about Kaznim, the cards, Jim Knee and finally about Darius and the Egg Timer. She fished the tiny Egg Timer out of her pocket to show them.

  “Wow . . .” Ferdie and Oskar said together. “That is beautiful.”

  “Isn’t it?” Tod said, letting the little gold-and-lapis hourglass lie flat on her palm and feeling the ancient Magyk once more. As they gazed at it they were all amazed to see a tiny, luminous grain of silver float from one very nearly empty chamber and burrow its way into the much fuller chamber. “I think,” Tod said, “that this is some kind of Magykal countdown to when the Orm Egg is going to hatch.”

  “Then it’s going to hatch pretty soon, by the look of it,” Oskar said.

  “I wonder how often a grain goes through,” Ferdie said. “If it’s just one a day, then there’s still some time left. But if it’s one every hour, then . . .”

  “There’s hardly any time left at all,” Tod finished for her.

  Oskar had been thinking. “Tod,” he said, “what exactly did Kaznim look like?”

  “Well . . . she was quite small. Dark curly hair and she was wearing a long red coat—thin, like a sleeping robe. Oh, and sandals on bare feet.”

  “Pigs!” Oskar said.

  “Pigs what?” asked Ferdie.

  There was something Oskar knew he should tell Tod and Ferdie, but he had made the solemn Manuscriptorium Promise, which meant he had sworn not to talk about anything he saw or heard in the Manuscriptorium. “We agreed that our promise to the Tribe of Three comes before anything else. Right?”

  “You know we did, Oskie,” Tod said. “That’s why I just told you about Kaznim and the cards and the Egg Timer.”

  Oskar stared down at the Moat. He felt bad about breaking the Manuscriptorium Promise, but he knew what he had to do. “Kaznim didn’t run away,” he said. “She was downstairs in the Manuscriptorium. I saw her.”

  Tod and Ferdie looked at him, stunned. “You saw her?”

  Oskar nodded. “She was in the corridor in the Conservation basement. I thought she was probably someone’s little sister, but we were busy so I didn’t really pay her much attention. But later, when I was leaving, I saw the ghost of Jillie Djinn in the front office and she seemed in a really good mood, even though Romilly’s baby sister was lying on the floor having a tantrum. Jillie Djinn was laughing and saying over and over again that little girls will always get their own way. It was weird how she kept emphasizing ‘way.’ It didn’t make any sense at the time, but it does now. I think Kaznim went through the Manuscriptorium Way. And I think Jillie Djinn helped her,” Oskar finished gloomily.

  They sat in silence for a few moments until the high-pitched ring-riiiiiiiing of a bell intruded on their thoughts. Oskar leaped to his feet. “It’s the half-hour bell,” he said. “We’d better go.”

  Ferdie was indignant. “Oskie, you can’t still be racing,” she said. “There are far more important things to do.”

  “But what can we do?” Oskar asked.

  “I have to go too,” Tod said. “I’ve got to tell Septimus about Kaznim and the Egg Timer.”

  “So what about us?” Ferdie asked a little sharply. “What about the Tribe of Three finding the Orm Egg?”

  Tod sighed. “Ferdie, I can’t keep Kaznim and the Egg Timer a secret from Septimus. It’s way too important. You must see that.”

  Ferdie felt horribly disappointed. The Tribe of Three, she realized, was just a kids’ game—there was no way it could compete with the Wizard Tower. “What I see,” she said bitterly, “is that you belong to the Castle now. Whatever you may say, you don’t really belong to the Tribe of Three. Your promise that we would all stick together and find the Orm Egg means nothing to you. That’s what I see.”

  “But I can belong to the Castle and the Tribe of Three,” Tod protested. “We all can. You belong to the Castle just as much as me, Ferdie.”

  “No I don’t.” With that Ferdie got to her feet and walked away.

  “No! Ferdie, wait!” Tod called out, but Ferdie did not even look back. Tod watched her friend hurry up the steps and stalk off along the top of the Castle Wall, heading for her lookout post at the old Infirmary where she was due to monitor the Apprentice race. Biting back tears, Tod turned to Oskar. “Oh, Oskie,” she said. “I have to tell Septimus. You see that, don’t you?”

  Oskar nodded. He was learning fast how hard it was to have two loyalties. “When you think about it,” he said slowly, “all that really matters is getting to the Orm Egg in time. It doesn’t matter who gets there first—whether it’s us or someone from the Castle—as long as it’s not Oraton-Marr. And telling Septimus makes that more likely to happen. Not less.”

  Tod smiled. “Thank you, Oskie,” she said, and she gave him a hug.

  Oskar blushed. “Anytime,” he said.

  Tod cast one last look after the vanished Ferdie and said, “I’d better go and find Septimus.”

  “Hurry back,” Oskar said. “You know we’ve got to be in the shed five minutes before Lead Out or the subs get to race. I don’t want that Drammer sucker racing the Wiz. I want to race against you. And win!”

  Tod grinned. “In your dreams, Oskar Sarn.” And she hurried off.

  ON THE GRID

  With no idea where Septimus might be, Tod decided to head for the Wizard Tower and hope to find him there.

  A puzzled Darius unhooked the rope and watched Tod disappear into the crowd that was gathering for the start of the Apprentice Race. The sight of the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice pushing her way through caused many mutterings. What was she doing? Wasn’t she racing? What was wrong? Tod heard them and realized how right Septimus had been about her racing. But some things, she thought, were mo
re important than keeping up appearances. Frustratingly slowly, Tod pushed her way through the crowd. Suddenly someone barred her way. It was Drammer Makken.

  “Hey,” he said. “Look who it is.”

  “Get out of my way, Drammer,” Tod said.

  “Okeydokey, pig-in-a-pokey.” Drammer grinned and stepped to one side. His older brother, Newt, immediately took his place and Tod realized she was encircled by Drammer’s friends. It was not a good feeling.

  “Let me through, Newt,” Tod said.

  Newt looked lazily at his timepiece. “Patience, Alice,” he sneered. “Of course I will let you through. In ten minutes and—ooh, let me see—twenty-three seconds. That’s when the Lead Out bell goes, isn’t it? But until then we can just have a little chat, can’t we?”

  “No, we can’t,” Tod said. “Let me past.” She went to sidestep Newt but the group pushed Tod toward the courtyard wall. Newt stuck his arm out between Tod and the wall so that she couldn’t go forward. She tried to step back and found her way blocked. She was trapped.

  “Get out of my way!” Tod yelled. Newt and his cronies burst into loud, forced laughter, drowning Tod’s shouts.

  The seconds were ticking by and Tod was getting desperate. Her chances of finding Septimus were rapidly disappearing along with her chances of racing the Wiz. Tod began to realize that there was no way she could get to Septimus in time now—wherever he might be. All she could do now was race the Wiz, as he had wanted her to.

  Tod took a deep breath and yelled as loud as she could, “Get out of my way!”

  “In a minute, little girl,” said one of the larger boys, laughing.

  “Little Apprenticey-wentice,” jeered another.

  Tod had had enough. She knew there was no way the gang was going to let her free. She was going to have to do something a little more dramatic than shout. Her hand moved surreptitiously to her Apprentice belt and she took out a Scare Charm, one of the basic Charms with which Septimus had loaded the belt when she had been Inducted as Apprentice. The Charm was not, he had impressed upon her, to be used lightly.