by Angie Sage
Deela decided to pick the egg nearest to her. She carefully placed it into the golden box and then, with some trepidation, she made her way down the ladder. As she stepped onto the somewhat slippery cobbles, Hagos bowed low to her. “My lord Hawke Meister,” he intoned. “I offer my grateful thanks for choosing our next Hawke.”
Deela had trouble suppressing a giggle as she handed Hagos the golden box with the egg. But as she caught sight of Zerra lurking in the shadows staring at her, the giggle dropped into a pit in her stomach. There was that awful Flyer girl who Alex had said was her foster sister. The one who not only had betrayed both Hagos and Alex to the king but had also, Alex had later told her, shot at her with the Lightning Lance. Resisting the urge to stomp over to the girl and tell her exactly what she thought of her, Deela pulled the cloak’s hood forward so that it flopped down over her face and turned away from the girl’s piercing glare. She wished Hagos would get a move on before the girl recognized her. Deela was sure that she would have no qualms about betraying her either.
But Hagos was in no hurry. If the Jackal were busy guarding him, then they could not be hunting down Alex. “The Hawke Meister,” he was telling Ratchet, unnecessarily slowly, Deela thought, “in his supreme wisdom, has found the perfect egg from which we will Engender the most magnificent Hawke. We will leave you now, Chief Falconer. We must not let the egg grow cold.” Ratchet gave a small bow and started back up the ladder to replace the mother bird upon her nest.
Hagos and Deela emerged into the sunlight and Hagos took a few deep breaths of fresh air—washed by the rains of the previous night, it smelled clean and sharp. A glance at the sky, with its white clouds, told him that the storm was abating. Hagos felt his spirits rise. With any luck Alex would be far away from Oracle Rock when the Jackal went over at low tide. And the longer he kept the Jackal with him, the better chance Alex had to escape.
Hagos walked deliberately slowly as the Jackal escorted them across Mews Court and up the wide steps to the golden archway that led into the king’s private walkway. Waiting for them was King Belamus with two Jackal, their yellow eyes glinting in the shadows. “So, RavenStarr,” the king said. “You have the egg?”
“The Hawke Meister has chosen, Sire,” said Hagos.
King Belamus looked at Deela suspiciously and dropped his voice to a loud whisper, which he addressed to Hagos. “He looks much shorter than he did in your room.”
Hagos thought fast. “Indeed, Sire. The energy the Hawke Meister used to choose the egg has much depleted him. This is the beginning of the Engendering of the most magnificent Hawke ever known.”
King Belamus seemed mollified. “I hope that it will be so, for your sake, RavenStarr. Indeed I do. Now, go!”
Hagos hovered uncertainly, unwilling to lose sight of the Jackal. “Perhaps the Jackal should escort the egg, Sire. And keep guard over it.”
Belamus chuckled. “I never thought you had a liking for my Jackal, Hagos. Very well, I will allow them to accompany the egg back to your rooms and I will allow you one outside your door. But I need the rest for a little expedition I have planned for them to Oracle Rock at low tide. There is at least one Enchanter’s brat there, very possibly two. Although not for much longer.” The king gave a tinny little laugh.
Like a cracked bell, Deela thought.
Hagos dragged his feet all the way up to his star-covered front door. There, he took as long as he dared to open the lock while the four Jackal watched. When the Jackals’ patience began to fray, Hagos reluctantly pushed open the door and he and Deela went inside. Hagos closed the door and through the spy hole he watched the Jackal hurry away, leaving one outside on guard. Hagos flipped the spy hole cover down and turned to Deela with a sigh. “They’ve gone to get Boo-boo,” he said.
“Alex,” Deela corrected him. “Your daughter’s name is Alex now, Hagos. She has a grown-up name and a grown-up attitude. She won’t let those creatures get her.”
Hagos walked over to the window and waited until he saw the Jackal racing across Mews Court on all fours, their red coats dragging upon the ground as they went. He watched a burly woman and man—Rekadom gate guards—accompany the Jackal to the foot of the high city wall. There they unlocked a small red door in the wall and then stood back respectfully while one by one, the Jackal walked through into the darkness beyond. Hagos sighed. He knew very well where they were going—he’d come up that way the day before. They were headed down an immensely long flight of steps through the cliffs to the beach and then across the causeway to Oracle Rock. Hagos watched the guards close the door behind the Jackal and stand at attention on either of side of it, waiting for their return.
Hagos didn’t want to think about who the Jackal might be returning with. He turned his attention to the sea in the hope of seeing a little white sailboat with a red sail. But he saw nothing.
After a while Hagos saw Ratchet walk out of the mews and look up at the sky. A small speck was visible—some kind of bird, though what Hagos had no idea—and it was clearly heading for Ratchet. The sight of Ratchet put Hagos in mind of Ratchet’s old Flyer, Danny Dark.
Hagos smiled wistfully. He owed a lot to Danny. It was Danny who had gotten him out of his exile in Seven Snake Forest. Okay, Danny had been hunting him down on the Hawke, but as Flyer, that had been Danny’s job, and Hagos didn’t blame him for that. It was Danny who had oh so carefully walked Hagos safely through a lethal Haunting of Air-Weavers, it was Danny who had first seen Alex, and Danny who had led him to find her. Hagos sighed. But like Alex, Danny was lost to him now. In fact, he wondered if Danny was even alive. He had done the best he could, but the Enchantment he had used to bring Danny back from being drowned at the bottom of the river was a tricky one. It didn’t always work—and given the feeble state of his Enchanting powers right now, it probably hadn’t.
Hagos stared gloomily out the window. You won’t see Danny again, he told himself. And probably not Boo-boo either.
Chapter 5
Danny and Jay
A TALL, SKINNY BOY WITH long, tangled red hair sat up and blinked blearily at the young man who was standing beside his bed holding a plate. “Uh?” said the boy.
“Eggs. Scrambled. And toast. I promised that weird Enchanter that I’d wake you in forty-eight hours. Which is what I’m doing,” the young man told him.
The red-haired boy gazed around, trying to work out where he was. He seemed to be in a cave with sleeping platforms. Lit by a lantern, most of it was in shadow, but he could see that the roof was low and dirty with soot. It smelled of soot too. “Where am I?” he asked.
“In the bunkroom. Now are you going to eat these eggs or what?” The young man pushed the plate of eggs and toast into the boy’s hands.
“Who are you?” the boy asked.
“Jay. And you’re Danny.”
“Danny. Yeah. Okay. Jay. Hey, I remember now. You pushed me into the river.”
“You pushed me first,” said Jay. “Now eat.” And he turned and walked out of the bunkhouse, leaving Danny frowning down at his plate.
Danny felt weird, as if he were waking up from a long and very complicated dream. Tentatively, he lifted the toast with the egg balanced on top to his mouth and took a bite. Suddenly Danny realized he was very hungry indeed. In four gulps the buttery toast and egg was gone and Danny could smell coffee. Somewhat shakily, he got to his feet, wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and wandered out of the bunkroom. He stopped dead in amazement. In front of him, in the middle of a towering cavern lit by lanterns, stood what he could only describe as a monster—a great iron cylindrical thing on huge wheels. “What is that?” he said.
The young man—Jay, was it? Danny couldn’t quite remember—appeared suddenly, walking out from behind the monster and carrying two cups of coffee. “That,” Jay answered, “is the Puffer.”
Danny shook his head slowly. His mind felt so fuzzy that he wondered if he was dreaming. “Puffer?”
“Yeah.” Jay pushed a cup of coffee into Danny’s hands
and then gently took his elbow and guided him over to a bench at the side of the cavern. “Sit down, drink this, and I’ll explain.”
And so Danny sat and listened.
“It’s a steam locomotive. Kids used to call it the Big Puffer. It ran all around the country, until the king ripped up most of the track—but not all. See?” Jay pointed to the ground and Danny now noticed a pair of shining parallel rails running from the front of the engine and heading off through the wide, brick-lined tunnel that led out of the cavern.
“Where do they go?” asked Danny.
“Over the river and as far as the salt oaks for sure. After that, I dunno. They used to go to Rekadom. But not now.”
“Rekadom?” Danny frowned. Rekadom . . . the name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t think why.
Jay looked at Danny, concerned. When Danny had fallen in the river, Jay had jumped in after him, but couldn’t find him. It had taken Hagos RavenStarr, the weird Enchanter who Danny was with, to fish him out. But by then Danny had been under the water for far too long. Jay had watched Hagos perform some strange kind of Enchantment on Danny, and the Enchanter had told Jay that Danny would be fine after two days’ sleep. Jay wasn’t so sure; Danny seemed very forgetful. He answered Danny’s question carefully. “Rekadom is where the king lives. And the Hawke. Remember?” Jay prompted. “You were the Flyer?”
“Flyer?” Danny murmured. The word made him feel uncomfortable—there was something lurking behind it that he did not want to meet.
“Yeah. You flew on this massive bird of prey and killed people with a Lightning Lance.” Even as he said this Jay felt it was a little hard-hitting. But he wanted to shock Danny into reacting. It worked.
“I did not kill people!” Danny protested. Images of two children on a cliff face cowering from him, closely followed by the rather comical sight of a scrawny man in underpants running away through a forest, flashed before him as he began to remember. Turning to Jay, he said, “I didn’t kill them. I couldn’t do it. I’m not a Flyer anymore.” He sat cradling his cooling coffee, staring into his cup. Then he looked up and asked, “Where’s Mr. RavenStarr?”
Jay felt relieved—it seemed that Danny’s memory was coming back. “He disappeared,” Jay said. “Off the end of the jetty.”
Danny looked horrified. “You mean he jumped in the river?”
Jay shook his head. “No. Although when he stood on the end of the jetty and raised his hands up like he was going to dive in, I did think that was what he was going to do,” he said. “I ran after him, yelling at him not to, but he just disappeared. There was no splash, and I am sure he didn’t jump. He just kind of faded away.”
Danny’s memories of Hagos were returning fast. “Yeah. I’ve seen him do that. He’s a powerful guy. I wonder where he’s gone?” Danny sighed. “I’d love to know. The days I spent with him were the best days of my life. Things felt like they really mattered, and in a good way, too. You know what I mean?”
Jay looked at Danny with new interest. “That’s how I feel too,” he said. He waved his hand at the Puffer. “When I’m working on him.”
“Him?” Danny grinned. “He’s, like, alive?”
“You bet,” Jay said. “Or he will be soon.”
Danny gave a low whistle. “I’d like to see that,” he said.
“Want to stay and make it happen?” Jay asked.
“I’d love to,” Danny said.
“Great.” Jay got up and wandered off, leaving Danny on the bench to ponder yet another strange turn in his life. He sat for a while, allowing the memories of the past few days to arrange themselves into something that made sense; then he realized his coffee had grown cold. And that he was very thirsty. He drank it down in one long gulp and leaned back against the cold rock wall of the cavern. Danny smiled. He was alive. And life was good.
Chapter 6
Bartlett Is a Banana
BACK IN HIS OFFICE, RATCHET was sitting at his desk, extracting a little scroll of paper from the tiny metal tube that had been delivered to him by a windswept pigeon. He read the neat, precise words on it and scowled. His deputy, Bartlett, was on her way back from her travels along the North Coast, where she had been flying a new pair of peregrines and collecting mice for the winter food stores. Ratchet had not been expecting Bartlett back for at least another week, and he was not happy. Bartlett wanted his job, Ratchet knew it, and she had a way of making him feel always in the wrong. Ratchet poured himself a small cup of what he called his “reviver.” As he gulped the fiery liquid down, the door burst open and Ratchet inhaled half the reviver, spilled the rest down his front, and succumbed to a coughing fit. Gasping, he looked up expecting to see Bartlett’s sardonic smile at his clumsiness; but instead his trainee Flyer came bounding in.
Zerra watched coolly as her boss’s face ran through increasingly dark shades until it was a deep puce—at which point she thumped him hard on the back. Ratchet sprayed reviver across his desk and then subsided into a wheezing heap. When at last he had caught his breath, he managed to gasp out, “What?”
“She is nothing to do with Hawkes,” said Zerra.
“Uh?” wheezed Ratchet.
“The Min person up the ladder who chose the egg.”
“The Hawke Meister to you. And it’s ‘he,’ not ‘she.’”
“No, it’s not. She lives on Oracle Rock. I saw her there yesterday wearing big Wellington boots. She’s a fake.”
Ratchet considered this. “Hmm. I thought something wasn’t right.”
No you didn’t, thought Zerra. But she knew better than to say so.
“Good work, Dark,” Ratchet said, addressing Zerra in the traditional way. All Flyers took the last name of Dark to show that they were Dark to Enchantment. This talent was an essential requirement of a Flyer, for their job when Flying the Hawke was to guide it to its prey and see through any Enchantments that the victim might use in order to escape. Ratchet sighed. He really must arrange a Dark to Enchantment test for this new Flyer before Bartlett got back. He didn’t want Bartlett making trouble. “Speaking of ‘Dark,’ Dark,” he said. “You’ll need a certificate.”
“What?” asked Zerra, confused.
“A certificate. To show you’re Dark to Enchantment—or Beguilement, as they call it here in Rekadom. We need to do a few little tests to prove you can see through Enchantment. Okay?”
This was most definitely not okay. Zerra knew she was not in the least bit Dark to Enchantment. Only a few days ago she had watched Alex do her creepy disappearing act right in front of her, and however hard Zerra had tried—and she really had tried hard—there had been no way she could see her. Zerra thought fast. She had already seen how much Ratchet loved his birds, and how protective he was of all the eggs, so she said, “I can do a silly test any old time, but isn’t the Hawke egg more important? Shouldn’t we make sure the egg stays safe? Perhaps I can stand guard or something?”
Ratchet looked at his new Flyer approvingly. He liked the way she was so dedicated to the birds. “Good point, Dark.” Ratchet stood up, scraping his chair across the slate floor. “But to be allowed into the Inner Star, you’ll need a pass. Can’t go anywhere in this benighted place without a pass,” he grumbled as he headed out of the office. “Come with me, Dark. You’ll have to sign it. In triplicate, no doubt. You can write, can’t you?”
“Of course I can write,” Zerra said indignantly as she hurried out behind Ratchet.
Zerra already knew that Rekadom was divided into two parts. When she had arrived on the Hawke she had seen the dramatic simplicity of its inner walls shaped as a five-pointed star set inside the circle of the outer city walls, each of the points touching the walls and so forming five triangular outer courts, Mews Court being the name of the one where the falconry was. Zerra had not yet been inside the Star—there seemed to be no easy way of getting in—and as she followed Ratchet she was surprised that he headed for what she had thought was an old plank in an alcove just a few yards along from the mews. Ratchet took out wha
t looked like a large corkscrew from his pocket and pushed it into a hole in the middle of the plank. He twisted the corkscrew and then leaned his shoulder against the plank, which swung open. Then he squeezed himself through the narrow entrance and disappeared into the gloom beyond.
Zerra hurried in after Ratchet. He pushed the plank door closed and it shut with a click. “You can get out by pulling this,” Ratchet said, looping his fingers around a long brass lever set into an alcove beside the door. “But to get in from Mews Court you’ll need the spike. We’ve only got one for the mews, so you’ll have to ask. Nicely. Got that?”
“Yep. Got it.” Zerra grinned. She liked Ratchet’s plain speaking. There was no hint of the bully she had first detected in him, but Zerra knew that was only because she had been so full of crazy confidence from Flying the Hawke that she had been brave enough to answer him back.
The unprepossessing entrance into the Star had taken them into a narrow passage—or ginnel, as it was called in Rekadom—set between the tall buildings that huddled along the edge of the Star wall. They emerged into a dusty street and Zerra was shocked at the boarded-up windows, curled strips of bleached paint peeling from storefronts, signs swinging mournfully in the wind. Weeds grew tall between the paving slabs, and rabbits hopped around nibbling daintily at the greenery. There was not a person in sight, although Zerra had the distinct feeling that they were being watched from some of the grubby windows above.
Ratchet walked at a rapid pace and Zerra had to trot to keep up. “Terrible here now that it’s so empty,” he confided. “Only the lowlifes and nastiness left.” He looked at Zerra. “You’ll be all right though. You understand this kind of stuff.”
Zerra wasn’t quite sure how to take that.
