by Angie Sage
Dedication
For Poppy Strover, with love
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1:Dream Come True
Chapter 2:Oracles New and Old
Chapter 3:Storm Watch
Chapter 4:Min
Chapter 5:Danny and Jay
Chapter 6:Bartlett Is a Banana
Chapter 7:Goodbye, Oracle Rock
Chapter 8:A Dark Hour
Chapter 9:Breathing Beguilers
Chapter 10:Rocadile
Chapter 11:Inside the Star
Chapter 12:Danny
Chapter 13:Under the Silver Star
Chapter 14:Home
Chapter 15:Homesick
Chapter 16:Home Truths
Chapter 17:The King Calls
Chapter 18:Discovered
Chapter 19:Lurking
Chapter 20:Alone
Chapter 21:Revenge
Chapter 22:Near Misses
Chapter 23:The King’s Spy
Chapter 24:The House of Ratchet
Chapter 25:Unwanted Guests
Chapter 26:Merle’s Mission
Chapter 27:Jackal in the Cove
Chapter 28:Along the Estuary
Chapter 29:Chariots of Fear
Chapter 30:The Beguiler Bell
Chapter 31:Escape
Chapter 32:Wraith Flow
Chapter 33:Exchanges
Chapter 34:First Fire
Chapter 35:An Unexpected Crossing
Chapter 36:Steam Up
Chapter 37:Coal!
Chapter 38:Zerra’s Reward
Chapter 39:“By the Hand of an Enchanter’s Child”
Chapter 40:Family Reunion
Chapter 41:The Power of Three
Chapter 42:The Midnight Train
Life after the Hauntings
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Angie Sage
Back Ads
Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter 1
Dream Come True
MONSTERS. MONSTERS, MONSTERS EVERYWHERE. Alex RavenStarr was running, but her feet would not move. Jackal-headed monsters surrounded her, seven feet tall with white muzzles, pink pointed ears and yellow eyes. They loomed above her, dribbling and drooling over her hair, baring their dirty, razor-sharp teeth. Alex inhaled the smell of rotten meat. “No!” she yelled. “No, no!”
“Alex, shhh!” A beam of light shone into her eyes.
Alex sat up. Befuddled with sleep, she stared at the tousled-haired boy who was holding up a small lantern, looking at her with concern. “Hey, Benn,” she whispered.
Beyond the pool of lantern light Alex could see nothing but darkness. Where was she? All she could hear was the howl of the wind and the thud of waves crashing upon rocks. And it was cold, so cold. Aha. Now she remembered. She was in a cave high up on Oracle Rock, hiding from the very monsters that had invaded her dreams.
“Bad dream?” asked Benn.
Alex nodded. “The Jackal.”
“Ugh,” Benn said with a shudder. Alex too shuddered at the thought of the Jackal—the group of half-human, half-jackal bodyguards that protected King Belamus of Rekadom and ruthlessly did the king’s bidding. And right now Alex knew that the king’s bidding was to find her and Benn and take them prisoner.
In the dimness at the back of the cave, Alex and Benn burrowed beneath their blankets and listened to the storm howling outside. After some minutes, Benn’s regular breathing told Alex that he had fallen asleep, but she was still unable to shake off the terror in her nightmare. She stood up quietly, wrapped her blanket around herself, tiptoed to the narrow mouth of the cave and peered out.
The cave was at the very top of the bell-shaped Oracle Rock, and the dark clouds scudding fast across the sky made Alex feel like a bird gliding on the wind. A sudden squally spatter of rain hit her feet and she retreated a little. Wide awake now, Alex looked down at the foamy seas crashing upon the rocks far below. From across the small stretch of churning water that for now divided Oracle Rock from the mainland, she saw the towering cliffs upon which the city of Rekadom sat in darkness. Somewhere in that city—deep in a dungeon, Alex supposed—was her newly found father, Hagos RavenStarr.
Alex leaned back against the cold wall of rock, and from a secret pocket inside the broad green sash that she wore around her waist, she drew out a small but surprisingly heavy book covered in battered blue leather. Alex flipped the book open and ran her fingers over a stack of wafer-thin hexagonal cards that were neatly tucked into a pocket inside the front cover. She smiled at the sight of her precious Hex cards. They had been her constant companion ever since her mother and father had thrust her into the unwilling arms of a certain Mirram D’Arbo—who had resentfully looked after Alex ever since—and over the last crazy two weeks they had led to so many discoveries that sometimes she found it hard to take it all in.
Finding comfort in their familiarity, Alex drew out her cards, and as she deftly shuffled them, she counted off the things she had learned about herself.
One: Her mother was named Pearl. She had died in the Rekadom dungeons eight years ago.
Two: Her father was Hagos RavenStarr.
Three: Her father had once been Enchanter to King Belamus.
Four: Which meant she was an Enchanter’s child. Which was not a good thing to be right now. Not at all.
It was strange, Alex thought, to be here on Oracle Rock, the actual place where ten years ago the Oracle had told King Belamus that he would “die by the hand of an Enchanter’s child.” Until then it had been just fine to have an Enchanter for a parent, but just a few words had changed that forever.
Alex shivered and pulled her blanket more tightly around her. Peering a little farther out of the cave, she looked down past the precipitous path that led up to their hiding place. She wanted to see if the sandy causeway that joined Oracle Rock to the mainland at low tide was uncovered yet. The almost-full moon was hidden behind a thick storm cloud and it was hard to tell. Buffeted by the wind, Alex tucked herself back into the shelter of the cave. What difference does it make? she told herself. The tide would go down soon enough, and when it did she was pretty sure that the king would send his Jackal across the causeway to get her. It was just a matter of time. Her only chance was if the storm died down enough for her and Benn to escape in his sailboat, Merry. But right now, there was no way little Merry could survive even five minutes in seas this rough.
Suddenly the moon appeared from behind a thick cloud. Alex risked a quick look out again. To her dismay she saw a strip of sand joining Oracle Rock to the beach below the cliffs. It looked like the tide had been down for a while, for the strip was wide and the pale sand shone in the surprisingly bright moonlight, like a stage with a spotlight turned upon it. Alex gasped. Right on cue came the actors. There were five of them: four seven-foot-tall Jackal from her nightmare, their long red coats flapping in the wind, the ghostly silver light of the moon picking out their sharp white ears and pointed muzzles. Almost lost between them was a short figure clad in a long wool bathrobe—Deela Ming, knitter of octopuses, resident of Oracle Rock and holder of the post of Oracle. Alex choked back a sob. Please, not Deela, not lovely Deela Ming, who had given them shelter and shown them nothing but kindness.
“Alex?” came Benn’s anxious voice. “What is it?”
“Deela!” said Alex. “The Jackal have got Deela!”
Benn scrambled to join Alex at the mouth of the cave and together they peered out. “Why?” Alex murmured. “Why take Deela?”
Benn frowned. “I guess they couldn’t find you but they found Deela. They say that Jackal never leave empty-handed.”
Alex fel
t awful. “I wish they’d taken me,” she whispered.
Benn was indignant. “They shouldn’t be taking anyone!” He leaned out farther into the wind, trying to get a clearer view. “Is it just Deela?” he asked. “Not Palla too?” Palla Lau was Deela’s young assistant, who had hidden Alex and Benn in the cave.
“It’s just Deela, I’m sure of it. Palla is much taller. Look.”
Brushing a sudden stinging shower of raindrops from their eyes, Alex and Benn watched the weird shapes of the Jackal, loping along on their hind legs, hustling the small figure up the beach on the far side of the causeway. “She must be so scared,” Alex whispered as they watched Deela being pushed into the dark archway in the foot of the cliff face. Alex thought she looked like a ghost disappearing into the underworld.
Suddenly there was a clattering of stones on the narrow path beneath the cave. Silently, hearts pounding fast, Alex and Benn crept to the back of the cave, where they dived beneath the blankets and listened to more stones skittering loose.
Something was climbing up the rocks.
And now the something was inside the cave, moving stealthily toward their hiding place.
Alex made a decision. She wasn’t going to let a Jackal find her crouching and terrified. She wasn’t going down without a fight. With a wild whoop and an earsplitting yowl, Alex leaped forward and hurled herself at the intruder.
There was a piercing scream and then all was quiet.
But not for long.
Chapter 2
Oracles New and Old
“WHAT DID YOU DO THAT for?” Palla Lau demanded as she staggered to her feet.
“Palla! It’s you!” Alex said, laughing with relief.
“I don’t see what’s so funny. I really don’t,” Palla said as she brushed the grit from her pants.
“I’m so sorry,” Alex said. “But we thought you were the Jackal.”
“I am not those disgusting creatures. Why would I be?” Palla said indignantly.
“But we saw them,” Benn said quietly. “With Deela.”
Palla’s indignation suddenly collapsed. She sank to the ground and gave a loud sob. With her hands covering her face, she spoke in hiccupping, muffled bursts. “Deela said they’d come. We were watching. For low tide. We saw them and Deela told me to hide. At first I wouldn’t. But she got so cross. She said I must be the Oracle now.” Palla gulped. She looked up at Alex and Benn, her tears glistening in the lantern light. “I always wanted to be the Oracle. But not like this.”
Silence fell in the cave. Leaving Palla with Benn, Alex got up and once again went to the mouth of the cave. There she sat, feeling the cold wind on her face, watching the clouds racing fast across the indigo sky, the moon appearing and disappearing behind them. She looked up at the cliffs and the high walls of Rekadom and thought about her father, and now Deela, too, imprisoned behind them. And she knew that unless the storm abated before the next low tide, she would be joining them. Feeling thankful that Rekadom had no harbor and so no access to boats, Alex watched until the sea had come in over the causeway, and then she called back to Benn and Palla. “The causeway’s covered. We’re safe.” And then she added under her breath, “For now.”
In the gray light of dawn, they headed back along the precipitous path to Deela’s cottage, which was perched upon the top of Oracle Rock. There, in Deela’s sitting room, Palla knelt beside the fire, gently feeding it one piece of sea coal at a time as if it were a sick animal. Despite the efforts of the fire, a deep chill settled into them as they listened to the unremitting wind and rain outside. But after drinking mugs of Palla’s hot spiced milk, Alex and Benn eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep, wrapped in blankets beside the fire.
But Palla could not sleep. She paced the floor of her room below, with one thought whirling around her head. What is happening to Deela?
Deela was sitting on a pile of slimy straw in darkness so deep she could see nothing but a few flashes of bright light in her eyes when she forced them open as wide as she could. She could hear a distant plink plink of water dropping into something metal, and beneath the overwhelming musty dampness she could smell the rankness of what she guessed was a dead rat. She was in a tiny cell, so narrow that when she put her arms out like the wings of a bird she could rest both palms on the ice-cold surface of the walls. And when she raised her arms up, her knuckles grazed the arched roof. She had given up calling out, asking if anyone was there. She was, she knew, alone.
Some time later—how many hours she could not tell—Deela heard the sharp echo of metal-heeled boots of the dungeon guards in the distance. She sat up and listened hard. The purposeful footsteps were coming ever closer and a flicker of fear shot through her. They were coming for her. She knew it.
Deela took a deep breath. She got to her feet and stood facing the door, her heart beating in time to the thud thud thud of the approaching steps. They came to a halt outside her cell and Deela steadied herself. Whatever was going to happen next, she told herself, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. All she could do was face it bravely and with dignity.
First came the harsh sound of the key turning the lock, and then came the shock of a shaft of lantern light cutting into the cell. Deela clenched her hands into fists by her side and watched the door swing open. “Hagos!” she gasped.
Flanked by two stolid dungeon guards in chain mail tunics, Hagos RavenStarr stood in his flimsy red cloak like a delicate reed between two rocks. He looked haggard and drawn, and his dark eyes flashed a warning glance at Deela. “Quiet, prisoner!” he said in an oddly high voice. “How dare you insult me?”
Deela felt as winded as if Hagos had punched her. He sounded so hostile.
“This is the new prisoner, Your Majesty,” intoned one of the guards.
Your Majesty? Deela thought. Why are they calling him “Your Majesty”? Puzzled, she looked at Hagos—and he winked at her. Deela felt a flicker of hope, and her mind began to work again. It seemed that the guards thought Hagos was King Belamus, although how he had made them think that, Deela had no idea. However, she thought it wise to try a shaky curtsey.
One of the guards took out a pair of handcuffs. “No need for that,” Hagos said. “I’ll take the prisoner.” The guard looked disappointed. The king had imprisoned most of the remaining citizens of Rekadom over the previous ten years, and the notorious dungeon fever meant that for some time now there had not been many to handcuff. In fact, Deela was the only prisoner they had right now, and her arrival had been the highlight of a very boring month. But the king always knew best.
Hagos stepped into the cell and Deela felt his bony hand take her arm. She did not resist as he drew her out of the cell and, with the guards almost stepping upon their heels, walked her away from the most desolate place she had ever been. Lit by the guard’s lanterns, their long, eerie shadows dancing before them, Hagos guided Deela through the snaking tunnels that looped beneath the city of Rekadom until they came to the foot of a flight of steps flanked by two burning rushlights. Here he turned around to the guards and said, “Leave us.”
The guards saluted, clicked their boot heels together and marched away.
“They thought you were the king,” Deela whispered. “How did you do that?”
“With some difficulty,” Hagos replied. “Let’s get out of this awful place.”
“We’re escaping?”
Hagos sighed. “Er, not exactly. I’ve struck a deal.”
“A deal?”
“With the king. And you’re part of it, although he doesn’t know that yet. So hurry up. I don’t want anyone to see us.”
Feeling faint with relief, Deela leaned on Hagos as he guided her up the steps to the sunlight above. She took a long, deep breath of the salty air blowing off the sea, and thoughts of Oracle Rock came back to her. “Your daughter, Alex,” she said. “She is safe. Palla hid her. The Jackal took me instead.”
Hagos turned to his old friend. “So the king told me. Thank you, Deela.” He sighed. “B
elamus also told me he has ordered the Jackal to go back at the next low tide and get Alex.”
Deela smiled. “Don’t worry, your Alex will be long gone by then in her friend’s sailboat.”
Hagos looked concerned. “In this storm?”
“It will die down soon,” Deela said. “Trust me. I’ve lived on that rock for thirty years. I know the weather by now.”
They emerged into an open space known as Star Court. Here in the very center of Rekadom, the three towers—Gold, Iron and Silver—rose up into the stormy sky above. Once Star Court had been a popular meeting place, but now it was deserted. After the great exodus of Enchanters and their families ten years ago, the remaining population in Rekadom had slowly fallen foul of the paranoid king, and the once vibrant city was now little more than a ghost town.
Anxiously, Hagos glanced up at the top of the Gold Tower, where he knew King Belamus lurked with nothing better to do than to gaze out the delicate golden-arched windows onto the emptiness of his domain below. Hagos’s trip to the dungeons had taken longer than he had expected and it was now almost eleven o’clock—on the dot of which King Belamus, who stuck to a rigid schedule, would cut a slice of his midmorning chocolate cake and begin rereading a chapter of the book he was supposed to be writing: My Complete and Unabridged History of Rekadom. In the old days, when Hagos was both the king’s Enchanter and his friend, he would have been sharing the king’s chocolate cake and listening to Belamus’s latest chapter. He missed the cake, but not the listening.
Hagos hurried Deela across the empty courtyard, past an irritable goat eating a lonely dandelion, then through the shadows of the gloomy Iron Tower, its tiny windows covered with iron shutters, and out into the open again. It felt like it took an age to cross the empty space between the Iron and Silver Towers, but at last they reached the archway that led into the Silver Tower. Hagos propelled the weary Deela inside, and slowly they climbed the long flight of winding steps lit by small lanterns set into niches lined with silver leaf. At the very top was a wide landing with a large blue door decorated with silver stars. Hagos placed his hand upon the lock, then waited until he heard the soft clicks of spring-loaded pins moving into place. Quickly, he pushed the door open—his power to keep a lock open lasted only seconds nowadays. He ushered Deela into a huge, triangular room and hurriedly pushed the door closed.
