by J S Landor
She plunged her hands in her pockets and stared down the road. ‘Oh no, that’s all I need,’ she moaned. Limping round the corner, swearing loudly at his friends, Blunt was headed her way.
His face darkened when he saw her. ‘It’s all-out war now. Your mate’s gone too far,’ he shouted.
Charlie looked at him blankly.
‘Set his dog on us, didn’t he? Look at this!’
As he came closer, Blunt yanked up his trouser leg, revealing four scratch marks which ran lengthways down his calf to his ankle. Charlie wrinkled her nose. The skin around them was inflamed and raised into wheals that resembled long worms.
‘He’s gonna be so sorry he messed with me,’ said Blunt.
‘What are you talking about?’ Charlie replied. ‘Jack hasn’t got a dog.’
‘Belongs to that old geezer he hangs out with. They were up at the Hall yesterday. We watched ’em. Reckon they went back and did that burglary last night.’
‘What? Jack wouldn’t –’
‘Oh yes he would. He’s got a strange choice of friends, if you ask me.’ Blunt looked her up and down. ‘He’s gonna pay for what he did.’
‘Is that right?’ Charlie couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. ‘And what are you going to do?’
Blunt grabbed her by the collar, pulling her towards him. ‘It’s not what we’re gonna do, it’s what we’ve already done,’ he hissed.
‘If you’ve hurt Jack –’
‘I ent laid a finger on him,’ said Blunt, coolly. ‘Didn’t need to.’ Then before she could back away, he leant forwards and planted a disgusting kiss on her lips. ‘Hope for your sake I ent got rabies,’ he said, enjoying her horrified expression.
Charlie lifted her hand to slap him, but he anticipated the movement and caught her wrist. Incensed, she spat at him, ‘Rabies? You’re barking mad already! When you start foaming at the mouth, no one’s going to notice the difference!’
Gormley snorted loudly.
Blunt glared at him and shoved Charlie backwards so hard she crashed into the railings.
When they were gone, she struggled to her feet. She could feel the impression of the wrought iron in her back. Idiots! What did Blunt mean: ‘It’s what we’ve already done …’? And what was all that about a burglary? She rubbed her sore wrist with a growing sense of unease. Jack was no thief but he’d definitely gone to Osmaston Hall with Flyn.
Charlie pulled a face. She didn’t like the painter one little bit. Even though he played the fool, she knew he was smart – sharper than a razor. She felt a twinge of jealousy. Jack hadn’t replied to her message the previous evening. Being with Flyn was probably more fun, especially if he’d given Blunt a good scare.
The school bell rang and she glanced back along the road one last time. Maybe Jack was fed up with having a girl for a friend. Shoulders hunched, she headed into class alone.
Chapter 23
Jack woke with a start, roused by the sound of someone shuffling a newspaper. A businessman in a pinstriped suit lounged in the seat opposite, his shaved head just visible above his tabloid. ‘Big Blow: storm costs millions,’ read the headline.
Jack rubbed his eyes. The train was pulling out of a small station which appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. There were no houses, no shops, no cars, and apart from an old lady napping on a bench, no people. He stared at the sleeping woman. She had a voluminous purple coat bundled around her like a blanket. Two starlings perched on the wicker basket next to her and a white plastic bag danced along the platform at her feet.
As the train picked up speed, he just caught the place name: Fenstreet. No wonder the policeman had been suspicious. This place wouldn’t have a dentist. It was odd there was even a station.
‘Now then. Where exactly are you running to?’ said the businessman, as if resuming a conversation they’d already begun.
Jack almost leapt out of his skin. The man tossed the paper aside and looked directly at him, his brilliant blue eyes accentuated by the shaved head.
Jack’s heart thumped. ‘Jago! I didn’t recognise you.’
‘Thought I’d smarten up my act.’ Jago made an extravagant gesture at the suit. ‘Finest Savile Row cloth. What do you reckon?’
‘Great,’ said Jack uncertainly. He hadn’t thought Jago was the kind of person to wear a suit. ‘Are you in disguise?’
‘Certainly not! Why, should I be?’
‘It would make sense. They’re looking for us, Jago. There’s been a burglary at Osmaston Hall.’
Jago sighed. ‘I know. There were blue lights all round The Feathers this morning. I had to fly the coop early. Most inconvenient.’
‘Shouldn’t we tell them we had nothing to do with it?’
‘Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. They’ll catch the culprit soon enough. We were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
‘But they’ve got a description. They think the thief’s a child.’
‘Indeed?’ Jago raised his eyebrows.
‘It wasn’t me, if that’s what you’re thinking!’
‘Of course not. I don’t doubt your honesty for a minute. I was merely wondering at the audacity of a child who would dare to break into a stately home. It’s ambitious, to say the least. Don’t you agree?’
‘I s’pose so.’ Now Jack found himself half-wishing he was the thief.
‘No. I’m afraid there’s no going back. I have business elsewhere. And Alpha needs to move on. He was getting restless, as you know.’
‘That’s the other thing,’ said Jack, his voice catching. ‘I think Alpha may be … hurt. He frightened some people at the station. The police tried to shoot him!’
Jago seemed unperturbed. ‘Alpha can look after himself.’
‘But he could be wounded, lying half-dead somewhere. You can’t just leave him. How will he find you?’
Jago merely smiled, then nodded towards the window.
Outside, the violet-blue sky seemed bigger than usual. Giant shafts of sunlight speared the clouds, hitting the rolling hills like laser beams. In the middle of them, an animal moved along a distant ridge, travelling so fast that its streamlined body appeared to float over the ground.
‘Alpha!’ Jack’s heart hammered as if a bird had been released in his chest. ‘I don’t understand … How did he catch up with us?’
‘Wolves have tremendous stamina. They can travel great distances.’
‘But …?’ Jack glanced at his watch. The train had been travelling for a good hour at high speed. How had the wolf managed to come so far?
‘Alpha is as old as the hills themselves,’ said Jago. ‘He isn’t governed by time. Neither am I. Let me show you.’ He clapped his hands.
Immediately, there was blackness outside as if the train had entered a long tunnel. The rocking motion of the carriage stopped and a deathly silence hung over it.
Jack stared at the seat opposite, the blood pounding in his ears. It was empty. Jago had disappeared into thin air. Before he had time to wonder how or why, the daylight returned and he found himself looking out at the hills once more.
The train slowed, pulling into a station. He recognised the place straight away. There was the old lady in the purple coat dozing on the bench, a couple of starlings swooping down towards her basket. A white plastic bag lifted by the breeze of the incoming train flew up from the railway track and cavorted towards her.
The signs dotted at intervals along the platform confirmed that this was Fenstreet. It had all happened in the blink of an eye, like déjà vu. Except Jack knew for certain it wasn’t a trick of the mind.
With a long hissing sigh, the doors of the train opened and he heard footsteps approaching at a run. A bag landed inside the carriage with a thump – a large leather bag – and just as the doors began to close, a familiar figure in a trench coat and oilskin hat swept in.
‘Magic,’ whispered Jack, half in appreciation, half as a statement of truth. He turned to the window. Alpha had disappeared, though he knew he wasn’t far away. He could sense him still running, as surely as he could feel the blood pumping through his veins. In a moment he would see him … Yes! A column of sunlight fell across the folds of a hill, revealing a speck of brownish grey racing down the edge of a long gully.
Tingling with excitement, Jack turned back to Jago. ‘Well? Come on! Explain!’
‘We just replayed time,’ said Jago matter-of-factly. ‘Only for a minute or so, but enough to create a slightly different version of the present. One in which my hair was never cut. It was a bad decision anyway. I could tell you didn’t like it.’
‘But how … who are you?’ said Jack slowly.
‘Exactly the same person I was five minutes ago. Despite the change of appearance.’
‘No, that’s not what I meant and you know it. Jago, you said you were an artist.’
‘I am. And a very good one too.’
‘Yes, but that’s not the whole truth, is it?’
‘The whole truth is a slippery customer, Jack.’ Jago leant forwards and reached behind Jack’s right ear, producing a pack of cards out of nowhere. After shuffling them thoroughly, he arranged them face down on the table between them, like the pleats of a fan. ‘Pick one,’ he said.
Jack chose a card near the centre and turned it over. It wasn’t from a normal deck. Instead, it showed a character in a broad-brimmed hat and breeches, standing in front of a stall covered in cups and balls and knives. He was holding up a short stick like a baton.
‘There are two kinds of magician,’ said Jago. ‘One is a common conjuror like this.’ He tapped the card and the character on it began to move, juggling three cups in the air above him. ‘He’s a showman – a fast-talking, two-bit hustler who cons people out of their money with cheap tricks and smooth patter. A fraud, in other words. Exactly what Mr Lonsdale thinks I am. Couldn’t see any magic in my art, could he? No. Now, turn the card over.’
Jack could hardly take his eyes off the juggler but he did as he was told. On the reverse side of the card, which should have been plain green like the others, he saw a second image. A youthful figure in a white robe and a long, red cloak held a wand above his head. A sword, a golden chalice and a pentacle star revolved around him, catching the light as they turned.
‘Here, on the other hand, is the genuine article. The true magician,’ continued Jago. ‘A Magus. He has nothing to do with illusion or deception. The magic he creates is real. He’s a master of metaphysical secrets who can bend reality according to his will.’
‘Like you!’ cut in Jack. ‘You’re a Magus!’
Jago shook his head. ‘I wish I was, but that would be stretching the truth,’ he said with a smile. ‘I have an ancestor, a very distant one, by the name of Hermes Trismegistus. Now, he was a Magus. But he lived centuries ago and the gifts I’ve inherited are limited, to say the least. That little time slip just now was a drop in the ocean compared to his power. The truth is neither black nor white, Jack. I’m more than a common conjuror, but I’m a long way from a true Magus.’ He turned the card on its side and spun it round so that the two images became a blur.
‘A drop in the ocean?’ exclaimed Jack. ‘Is that what you call it? What you did was amazing.’ He leant across the table and touched Jago’s sleeve, his eyes alight. ‘You’re probably closer to a Magus than you think.’
Jago stared at Jack. He was so startled he took his eye off the spinning card and it tumbled to the floor. Jack wriggled under the table after it. As he picked it up he noticed something about the Magus he hadn’t seen before. The belt around the magician’s waist was, in fact, a bright red snake.
‘Ugh! What’s this? It looks as if it’s trying to swallow its own tail.’
Jago laughed. ‘These are Tarot cards,’ he said. ‘Used by fortune tellers to predict the future. They love their symbols. Snakes can shed their skin and be reborn. It’s a sign of immortality.’
‘A moment ago, before you disappeared, you said you weren’t governed by time. Are you –?’
‘What? Immortal? Look at these wrinkles. What do you think?’
‘What about Alpha?’
‘Ah, now he’s a different matter. Alpha is a piece of pure magic, as mysterious as the elements themselves. He’ll live beyond you and me – to the end of time, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘But – you said you met in Canada. Al – gon …’
‘Algonquin. So I did. He lived among the Indians there for a while.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’
‘Would you have believed me? The boy who ignores magic under his own nose?’
Jack’s jaw fell open.
‘When I read your palm I knew there was magic in it. I predicted you would find it too. Was I wrong?’
Jack hung his head. It occurred to him he hadn’t told Jago the whole truth either. ‘No. All the while it was staring me in the face,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. I lied about finding Indigo.’
‘Doesn’t matter.’ Jago waved his hand as if batting away a fly. ‘Listen. It’s said that a Magus arrives in a person’s life when a change is about to happen. He’s the guide we encounter just when we need him most, the one who leads us into a new realm. I’m convinced you and I have crossed paths for a reason, Jack, though I’m not sure yet what it is. As I said, I don’t have all the answers, but perhaps I have some. Tell me, why are you here on this train?’
Jack was already rummaging in his rucksack. He held out the disc. ‘It’s because of this,’ he said.
He smiled into Jago’s twinkling eyes. Here, at last, was someone who might be able to explain things, someone who would reassure him he wasn’t going crazy, someone he could trust. Jago would be able to shed some light on the mysterious object.
Chapter 24
‘Where did you get this?’ Jago spoke in a tone of hushed reverence.
‘Someone sent it to me. I don’t know who,’ said Jack. ‘It was posted through the back door, the one we don’t use.’
‘A door that isn’t used? How odd.’
‘It was wedged in the cat flap.’
‘Ah, I see. Then the door is used.’
‘Yes, I s’pose so … but only by Odin.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Jago. ‘That makes sense. A lot of sense. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an animus involved here.’
‘A what?’
‘Think about it. It’s only your cat that uses the door. So it isn’t likely the postman, or any other ordinary person, would make such an important delivery there. But to an animus, it’s the obvious place. A point of entry used by a real animal.’
‘Jago, I don’t get it! What’s an animus?’
‘Oh! An animus is a human spirit that takes the shape of an animal. The word comes from ancient Greek – anemos – meaning wind. Alpha is probably the oldest animus there is. They say Hermes himself breathed some of his soul into him.’
‘Alpha is the spirit of a Magus?’
‘Yes.’
Jack gazed down at the disc in Jago’s hands. ‘So what kind of animus brought this to me?’
‘I’ve no idea. I told you, I don’t have all the answers.’
Jago turned the disc over. As the train sped along, the metal caught the light from the window and made him squint. He reached into his pocket and produced the magnifying glass which had caused such hilarity on the day they’d met.
Jack smiled, remembering how Jago had pretended to be short-sighted and crashed into a lamp post. It was hard to believe that the man sitting before him now, with his f
ace so still and serious, was the same person.
The silence seemed never-ending while Jago examined the disc.
‘It’s got niobium in it,’ said Jack.
‘Hmm?’
‘A rare metal.’
‘A super alloy. Yes, that’s hardly surprising.’
‘So what is it?’ asked Jack, unable to contain his curiosity a moment longer.
Jago placed the disc on the table between them and pointed at the tiny fish engraved near its centre.
‘This is a clue. It’s a letter, the first one in the Greek alphabet. They call it –’
‘Alpha!’ exclaimed Jack. ‘Why didn’t I see that before? Did Alpha deliver this to me then?’
‘No. I’d have known. It’s far more likely he’d have tried to stop it reaching you. This thing’s dangerous.’
‘Dangerous? How? What is it? Come on, Jago, you’ve got to tell me!’
‘I’m trying! So many questions! Give me a chance.’
Jack mouthed the word ‘sorry’ and made a zipping motion across his lips. But under the table, his knees jiggled with impatience.
‘That’s better. Now, where was I? Ah, yes … Alpha isn’t just the letter A, it’s also the Greek number one. The man who made this loved numbers. He was always first when it came to solving mathematical puzzles.’
Jack stared at the symbol. The letter A and the number one. What did that mean? He tried to sit still so he could think straight. He remembered Charlie tracing her finger over the little fish just before the disc caught alight. Jago was right, it was dangerous.
‘Now look. What do you see here?’ Jago handed him the magnifying glass and pointed at a dark line engraved round the edge of the disc. It was barely thicker than a human hair and looked like a simple circle. But as Jack focussed the glass, he could see it was another clue.
‘It’s a kind of zigzag. No, wait. These are letters too … they’re all the same!’ His eyes gleamed. ‘It’s the letter M. Dozens of them.’
