The Mirror of Pharos

by J S Landor

  ‘It isn’t that easy.’

  ‘Then … what are we gonna do?’

  ‘Watch and wait. He’ll show us.’

  ‘Him! What can he possibly show us?’

  ‘He’s made two leaps already, remember? Future and past. He’s learning.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ Pi gave Jack a jealous look. ‘Beginner’s luck.’

  ‘Be sensible. This was delivered by an animus. What does that tell you?’

  ‘Er …’ Pi tapped his bottom lip theatrically. ‘Someone meant him to have it?’

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘Who then? His parents?’

  ‘Unlikely. They died in the ruins. However, I have no doubt they uncovered it. Oh yes.’ Jago nodded his head purposefully. ‘Afterwards, there were reports of a blue light in the sea. The locals said it moved too fast for a fish. My guess is someone picked it up.’

  ‘But that was seven years ago! Why would anyone wait so long?’

  ‘Think about it,’ said Jago excitedly. ‘He’s twelve now.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘The age a Magus must be tested.’

  ‘Hang on!’ blustered Pi. ‘He’s not a Magus!’

  Jack stirred in his sleep and the two of them fell silent. Then Jago said, ‘Alpha is keeping unusually close. He likes the boy … And there’s something about that house … I swear he was guarding it. That’s why I painted it – to get a look inside.’

  ‘You’re paranoid! Alpha follows you.’

  Jago shrugged and stared into the fire.

  ‘Oh come on. Alpha’s the one who led us to him. We’d never have found the mirror otherwise. And what about the storm? He brought the town to a standstill. Your orders.’

  ‘What if Jack wanted the same thing?’

  ‘That’s daft! Why bring chaos to your own town?’

  ‘A fledgling Magus at the end of his tether …’ Jago took the mirror from Pi and studied it closely, as if hunting for a clue he might have missed. ‘He doesn’t know his own strength.’

  ‘Don’t make me laugh. He can’t even throw straight! And what about them boys? They walked all over him. Why would Alpha listen to him?’

  Jago smiled. ‘I didn’t mean that kind of strength. But you’re right, Alpha won’t disobey me. He wouldn’t dare. Hermes assigned him to serve his descendants. And we both know what happens to an animus who defies his maker.’

  Pi nodded vigorously. ‘Exactly. Alpha may not be your animus but he won’t let you down.’ His face looked pale and anxious again. ‘And me? What do you want me to do next?’

  ‘Go after that old fool who was here earlier. Fetch the keys to the lighthouse. He’ll have them somewhere. He still cleans the place.’

  ‘Consider it done.’ Pi began to back away, happy to return to the shadows.

  ‘Wait,’ snapped Jago. He unfurled the plans of The Empress and pored over them, muttering to himself. ‘What is it about this ship that’s so damned important? The seventh wonder shows up seven years after his parents die and sends him here … That wolf’s up to something, I’ll stake my life on it.’

  Pi laughed nervously. ‘Forget the ship. Ent never gonna sail anyway. Their loot’s gone!’

  ‘Stealing a bit of money won’t stop a project like this. I hardly think you’ve bankrupted them.’ Jago’s fingers drummed on the arm of the chair. ‘We must keep a close watch, make a plan of our own. Yes, that’s it … something to short-circuit the connection between them … I suggest we copy these to our London friends.’

  ‘And say what?’

  Jago’s mouth formed a thin line. He studied Jack thoughtfully. Then, like a father tucking a child into bed, he gently pulled the red hoodie around him and returned the mirror to his bag.

  ‘Dear boy,’ he whispered, brushing a lock of hair from Jack’s eyes. ‘I know how much this ship means to you. But something’s going on and I need to make sure Alpha behaves.’

  His fingers, black with charcoal, made a beckoning motion. From the shadows, the magpie swooped down and hovered in silent allegiance beside him.

  ‘Tell them I’ll be in touch. For technical advice. It can’t take much to disrupt a ship’s navigation system and throw it off course. We need a trick up our sleeve. A little backdoor program … Set the ball rolling. Go.’

  Though fast asleep, Jack was aware of a faint breeze on his face and the sound of wings. In his dream Lily swam up to him and turned from a mermaid into a beautiful white gull. A throng of other gulls lifted her off the sea and away they flew towards the lighthouse, calling his name. They sounded insistent, desperate even, as if screaming at the ocean itself to hurry: ‘Tide … swell, Tide … swell.’

  Chapter 29

  The approaching lorry flashed its lights and beeped its horn three times, the final blast changing tone like a siren as it thundered past. Nan gripped the steering wheel. ‘What was that for?’ she bellowed over her shoulder. ‘Road hog!’

  A yowl of agreement came from the back seat. Two yellow eyes blinked wearily from the folds of an old jumper. Odin didn’t appreciate being woken up.

  It was long past midnight and they were miles from the nearest town on a flat, straight road that ran through open marshland. A low mist clung to the land on either side but high above the stars shone brightly.

  Without warning, the car in front swerved wildly, crossing onto the wrong side of the road. Its tyres screamed and the exhaust belched out black smoke as the driver struggled to regain control.

  Nan leant forwards, peering into the darkness. The zigzag pattern made by the car’s tail lights danced in her eyes like a bolt of red lightning. ‘What’s the matter with everyone round here?’

  A figure appeared in the headlights, hurrying along the dotted white line that ran down the middle of the road. A voluminous purple coat swept the ground and before Nan knew it, the wearer had stepped directly in front of her.

  ‘What the –?’ She stamped on the brakes, sending the contents of the parcel shelf – boots, maps, blankets, bags – raining down on Odin’s head. The cat gave a yowl as the blue Beetle screeched to a halt barely inches from where the figure stood.

  A woman’s face, brown as a walnut and lined with age, stared through the windscreen. She had one hand resting on the bonnet, the other raised.

  ‘What are you doing?’ yelled Nan, winding down the window. The smell of burning rubber filled her nostrils. ‘Get out of the road! You’ll get yourself killed.’

  The woman’s lips moved soundlessly as she fought for breath. She straightened up and pushed the matted grey hair from her face, revealing a red gash over her right eye.

  ‘What on earth’s going on?’ said Nan.

  ‘Hocus-pocus, jiggery-pokery, foul play!’ Finding her voice at last, the woman came hurrying to the driver’s window, gesturing wildly across the marsh. ‘At the station. This morning. The same train twice!’

  Nan gazed in bewilderment where the woman had indicated. In the distance lay the twinkling lights of Fenstreet.

  ‘The station?’

  ‘My station!’

  Nan looked again across the marshes. There weren’t any stations nearby. The East Coast line ran directly through Fenstreet but the place was too small to have its own stop.

  ‘There!’ cried the woman. ‘You just choose not to see it! Look!’

  A shiver ran down Nan’s spine. The woman’s eyes were crystal bright and seemed to be looking right inside her. She turned back towards Fenstreet full of expectation, though she wasn’t certain what she was meant to see.

  ‘Oh!’ Her hand touched her upper lip. To one side of the village, a row of blue lights had appeared. She had to squint hard because they kept fading in and out of view, as though she was using badly focussed binoculars. Finally, they seemed to fix themselves and the outline of a building materialised below them. In the middle, a tower poi
nted up at the night sky. Without being told, Nan knew there would be a clock at the top of it. A special kind of clock that ran backwards as well as forwards. It was indeed a station, though not the sort used by ordinary passengers.

  She stared with newfound respect at the ancient face. The old woman was the custodian of a ‘time junction’. Beneath that purple coat caked in marshland mud was a Seer who supervised the comings and goings of a special kind of traveller: Time Trippers.

  The woman nodded at her as if she had spoken out loud. ‘That’s right. I’m Sybil Ayres,’ she said. ‘I know who you are.’ Before Nan could reply she slammed her hand down on the car roof. ‘He tried to slip through without me noticing. But I won’t be hoodwinked by tricks and disguises. I know the business of everyone who passes through my station. That’s my job!’

  ‘He? Who are you talking about?’

  ‘A fraud, a thief, a hellhound …’ Sybil’s voice became shrill. She pulled a white plastic bag from one of her enormous pockets and held it open. A slimy, red smear ran down the inside. At the bottom, staring glassily up at the night sky, lay two dead starlings, their necks broken and wings smashed.

  Nan looked from the contents of the bag to the gash on Sybil’s face in horror.

  ‘Came at me like harpies they did, just as the train pulled out. But he can’t stop these old eyes from seeing. Oh no. I reached into his mind, read his thoughts. I know who he is!’ Sybil pulled a dirty rag from one of her pockets and dabbed at the wound. She laughed bitterly. ‘He’s lived many lives, used many names, but our Mr Flyn isn’t as elusive as he thinks.’

  ‘Flyn?’

  ‘Jago Flyn!’ Sybil spat the name out like it was a curse.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Nan’s stomach tightened as she recalled what Charlie had said about Blunt’s wounded leg. ‘Did he have a dog with him?’

  ‘A wolf,’ corrected Sybil. ‘Nothing has ever moved through my station at such speed.’

  The colour drained from Nan’s face. She shut her eyes tight. She had wanted the wolf to be an illusion, something she’d dreamt up. ‘It’s real then?’

  ‘As real as you and me.’

  Nan swallowed hard, forcing herself to ask the next question. ‘Was anyone with them?’

  ‘A boy with his head full of the sea …’

  ‘No. Not Jack!’

  ‘He has a treasure of some kind. I saw it in his thoughts, shining like a great light. Hard to tell what it is exactly – I’m not sure he knows himself – but it made me think he’s a traveller. One of us.’

  A traveller, my Jack! Oh God. Nan felt numb. ‘And Flyn wants this treasure, I suppose.’

  ‘Of course. To escape his worthless life. He thinks it’ll restore his old power.’

  ‘Power? What is he?’ whispered Nan.

  ‘He was a Magus,’ said Sybil. ‘Fallen, cursed and banished!’

  Nan had heard enough. She unbuckled her seat belt as quickly as her shaking hands would allow and got out of the car. ‘You’ve got to help me! I need to find Jack. Fast!’ She glanced towards Fenstreet. Under normal circumstances, it would be impossible for her to use a time junction. She had neither the skill nor the status. But here was the custodian standing right in front of her. Surely she’d allow it, just this once.

  ‘No, I’m sorry,’ said Sybil, seeing straight away what was in Nan’s mind. Her tone became officious. ‘It’s against the rules. In any case, I’ve shut the station down. Flyn must have no bolt-hole. We’re closing every junction from here to Timbuktu. He won’t be using our network again.’

  ‘But that puts Jack in even more danger. There must be something you can do?’

  Sybil shook her head. ‘I came here to tell you to turn back.’

  ‘What!’ Nan looked appalled. ‘He’s a child. We can’t leave him to his own devices.’

  ‘He’s not defenceless, far from it. When the wolf slipped past, I caught a thought so powerful I could almost smell it. Like the promise of rain … Listen to me! Your grandson has the blood of a Magus in him and the wolf knows it. Jack has the means to defeat Flyn, to stop him causing chaos in our world.’

  Nan’s eyes widened in terror.

  ‘Magical intervention is out of the question,’ said Sybil. ‘If we go barging in, he’ll never discover his true potential.’

  ‘The blood of a Magus?’ gasped Nan.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re surprised. It runs through your family from Hermes himself. Why deny it? For heaven’s sake, you’ve always feared your own gifts, forever doubting and –’

  ‘Let me get this straight,’ Nan cut in. ‘You know this from the wolf?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The passing thought of a creature who keeps the company of a villain. What if it’s a lie? A distraction? Another trick?’

  ‘Not possible.’ Sybil drew herself up haughtily. ‘I see only thoughts which are true.’

  ‘Uh-huh. So the great Sybil Ayres is never wrong, is that it? No one ever slipped under her radar? No one ever caught her napping?’

  Sybil’s face fell. ‘Well, I –’

  ‘My magic isn’t one hundred per cent perfect,’ snapped Nan, ‘but at least I don’t mind admitting it. Jack is my life. There’s no way I’m going home without him. So you can stick your precious rules up … I’ll manage on my own, thanks very much.’

  ‘Now wait a minute,’ blustered Sybil.

  But Nan was already getting in the car, shooing Odin from the driver’s seat where he’d crept to escape the clutter which had fallen on top of him. She slammed the door, turned the ignition key and revved the engine. Midway through closing the window, she paused.

  ‘One more question,’ she said grimly. ‘You said Flyn was banished. So tell me, what exactly did he do?’

  Sybil looked uncomfortably at the ground.

  ‘Something unforgivable, I assume,’ hissed Nan.

  ‘He killed a man. Revenge for the death of his son.’

  Nan shook her head and glared at the old witch. Then she pressed the accelerator to the floor. Four wheels churned into the marshland mud and Sybil had to jump clear to avoid the splatter.

  ***

  Alpha watched the blue car snake its way along the narrow coast road that led to The Spike peninsula. From his vantage point high on the hill, it seemed to move slowly, trundling between the hedgerows like a tiny clockwork toy.

  His ears twitched as he strained to catch the sound of its engine. He knew what lay ahead. Nan had already shown him on the night of the storm. He’d seen the fear in her face and watched spellbound as her vision had unfolded.

  His amber eyes flicked to the place where the accident would happen. A badger had just ambled across the road and was rooting for grubs in the velvety soil of the verge. In a moment it would pass over the very spot where the front offside wheel would leave the ground and climb into the sky.

  Lifting his head, Alpha summoned the wind. The long grass stirred, the fur on his broad shoulders parted and a light breeze delivered the mechanical rumble he’d been waiting for. He breathed in. The hot, metallic scent which hit the back of his throat tasted bad. Something was wrong.

  His eyes narrowed, focussing on the wet tarmac of the road. Though several hundred metres away, he could see with forensic precision the drops of liquid that glistened like beads of poison on the black stones. The trail led all the way back to Morton Muxloe, where Blunt had crept into the garage to loosen the oil filter and fuel line.

  Alpha growled. He didn’t understand the anger and unkindness of human beings. All he knew was that it existed. Like a sponge, he let it soak into him, digesting it as he had the pile of worms in the playground. Then he blew it all out, turning it into storm winds that filled the universe with dark energy.

  As the car drew closer, another low growl rattled in his throat. Nan didn’t like him, he knew that. Her cat had fought him
tooth and claw and would have scratched his eyes out if he’d let it. But he couldn’t help straying into her territory. He’d had no choice. The mirror – his mirror – had drawn him there. So had the new Magus who knew how to make its light work.

  The car no longer looked like a toy. It was moving fast now, its wheels squealing as it tore round the corners. Alpha inhaled and the grass rippled towards him, whispering with messages only he could decipher. He could sense Nan’s fury as keenly as he could smell the burning metal. It seeped into his bones, making his legs quiver.

  The desire to run became all-consuming. He couldn’t keep still a moment longer. Every muscle in his body tightened, then flexed like elastic. With a snarl, he sprang forwards, pouring down the hill towards the sea. He had to reach the place in the road where Nan’s journey was about to end. There was something he had to do.

  ***

  Nan ignored the red lights on the dashboard and threw the Beetle around another bend. She prayed the engine would make the last few miles to Wakeham. If it was ruined, then too bad. All that mattered was finding Jack – before anything terrible happened.

  Cursing, she gave the two furry dice a swipe. It was useless trying to wrap them round the rearview mirror. As soon as she hooked them out of the way they came loose again and swung in her face. She wished she’d never bought them.

  A low-throated growl came from the back seat.

  ‘I can’t help it!’ she yelled at Odin. ‘We’re in for a rough ride. So keep your hair on.’ Gears screaming, she accelerated along a straight stretch of road, creating a tunnel of light between the dark hedgerows.

  Odin’s grumbling turned into a hissing fit. And when that failed to reclaim her attention, he let out a high-pitched wail. The noise went on and on, like an untuned violin searching for the right note, until her ears were ringing.

  ‘For pity’s sake,’ she moaned. But something about the desperate cry made her glance up the hillside. ‘What the – oh please, dear lord – No, not now!’

  In spite of the darkness, she recognised the black outline straight away. It was the same grim shadow that had been preying on her mind since the night of the storm. Only now it wasn’t just in her head. The wolf had found her. Tearing down the slope with his feet barely touching the ground, he looked like a demon.