by J S Landor
‘Why?’
‘Because of the mirror! Sometimes it was used as a weapon of war. It burnt a ship with his son on it, another soldier.’
‘Revenge?’
Sybil nodded sadly. ‘His grief turned to anger. Wouldn’t surprise me if he thinks the mirror is his, that destiny owes it to him.’
Charlie got up and grabbed her clothes. ‘I’ve got to help Jack.’
‘That’s why I’m here.’ Sybil gave Charlie a searching look. ‘Can I trust you to be brave?’
‘Of course!’
‘I found you because you’re the only one thinking of Jack.’
‘I can’t be. What about Nan?’
Sybil shook her head. ‘I should have acted earlier. I lost track of her too. A Seer is not supposed to meddle but … she was right. It’s time for me to break the rules.’
Sybil touched Charlie’s forehead and then her own. ‘Hold tight.’
***
Charlie felt her whole body jerk forwards and the next thing she knew, she was standing fully dressed in the driveway outside her house. Above her, the stars twinkled quietly in an ebony sky.
‘Sorry,’ said Sybil, who seemed to be gasping for breath as much as Charlie herself. ‘That was a bit fierce. Go get your bike. Let’s make the journey more comfortable.’
Charlie whirled round several times. She couldn’t see the old woman anywhere.
‘Don’t just stand there. I said go!’
Charlie tore off to the garden shed where her bike was chained to a hefty metal post. She fumbled with the padlock.
‘Eighteen gears. Very nice,’ said Sybil. ‘Yes, put that on, you’re going to need it.’
‘I was just about to!’ said Charlie, reaching for her cycle helmet. Where are you?
‘In your thoughts, silly girl. Now get going! Cycle downhill, fast as you can. I’m on my way to Fenstreet. I’ll open the time lock to let you through.’
Charlie skidded out of the drive and pedalled furiously down the street until the houses on either side became a blur. As she approached the T-junction at the bottom, her hand hovered over the brake. ‘Left or right?’ she asked.
‘Straight ahead,’ ordered Sybil. ‘Two ticks, I’m nearly ready.’
‘But there’s a house the other side. I’ll crash!’
‘Nonsense. There, it’s unlocked. Where do you want to go?’
‘Wakeham!’
‘Right. Make the most of this, my dear. It may well be my last piece of magic.’
Ahead, a drunk – the last one to leave The Feathers that night – swaggered across the main road.
‘Look out!’ yelled Charlie, swerving wildly around him.
‘Oi!’ he hollered back. ‘Bleedin’ maniac. What yer doin’?’
‘Whoa!’ As the bike hit the pavement on the other side, Charlie braced herself, half expecting to plough through the garden wall in front of her. But instead the bike reared up, soared over the house and continued to climb. She changed down a gear, pedalling madly to maintain the upward momentum, hardly able to take in what was happening. Piece by piece, a vast suspension bridge was forming in the night sky. Giant girders that looked like twisted metal rope uncoiled around her, shooting into the distance with a hissing sound.
‘A – blimmin – mazing!’ she gasped. She not only had a bird’s eye view of Morton Muxloe, but the surrounding countryside looked as clear as a night time satellite map studded with the bright lights of the towns and villages beyond. She glanced back at the drunk and waved in excitement. ‘Sorry ’bout that!’
He didn’t respond. He was too busy pouring the contents of his beer can into the gutter, wondering how on earth a girl on a red bike could disappear into thin air.
Chapter 34
Jack half-opened his eyes and groaned. The control room was a blur and a hundred hammers seemed to pound in his head. He tried sitting up, but his arms and legs wouldn’t budge. Pi, in his anger, had turned up the voltage on the stun gun, delivering a shock twice as strong as the one he’d inflicted on Lonsdale.
Darkness closed in and Jack slipped back into a strange unconscious state, aware that he was dreaming, yet unable to snap out of it. Above him, the sky was a blameless blue and all around he could hear the gentle slap of waves. He was in Tattoo’s boat, anchored in the middle of a turquoise sea.
‘Wake up, Jack … Don’t let go … You can’t forget, I won’t let you!’ The dream voice was Lily’s, but he couldn’t respond. The bobbing boat made him drowsy and the hum of faraway traffic sucked him back down.
On the boat’s prow, a string of gold letters glistened in the sunlight. Tattoo, it seemed, had come up with a name at last. ‘Phantom,’ read Jack. And though fast asleep, he heard himself say it out loud. Why had the thug chosen that? Exactly the same name as his parents’ boat?
Before he could figure it out, the sea splashed his face and a flicker of something blue shot under the hull. Without another thought, he got up, planted one foot on the prow and plunged in after it. Dream or no dream, he didn’t care. He’d found the Pharos dive site and there, darting away from him, was the mirror.
Kicking furiously, he made a swipe for it. His fist closed around nothing and as he spun round to see where it had gone, a colossal stone head rose through the gloom below him. Somewhere out of the corner of his eye, he saw the disc shoot away like a blue fish. Then with horror he felt himself being sucked down.
Two vast stone eyes drew level with his and his feet gave up kicking.
‘Am I dead?’ he asked.
The majestic face of Isis seemed to look straight through him. ‘No, Jack. Never was a child so loved. They exchanged their lives for yours, so you could find your purpose. It’s time to wake up. You’re a Magus.’
The tip of his forefinger pulsed fiercely and he felt himself catapult forwards … ‘Aaaah-Alpha!’
Heart thumping, he sat bolt upright. The lights on the control panel came sharply into focus. Wide awake at last, he scoured the shadow-filled room. Alpha had gone.
He shook his head, trying to clear the strange images which still seemed to swirl around him. Then, stiff and thirsty, he stumbled to the sink. His stomach rolled alarmingly and with every step the hum of the machinery seemed to grow louder. If he wasn’t careful, he’d pass out again. He downed a cup of water and sat for a while rocking and hugging his knees at the bottom of the stairs until, gradually, the nausea wore off and the symphony of noises faded.
A little less shakily this time, he got up to look for his rucksack. It was behind the sofa, tipped upside down with the contents scattered across the floor. Pi, little creep! They’d got the mirror. So what else could that lowlife possibly want? The money he’d brought?
Apparently not. Retrieving his wallet and cash, Jack thanked his lucky stars that Indigo was beyond Pi’s reach. To think he’d almost given him to Jago. All his belongings appeared to be here except … his fists went up behind his head and he kicked the table. His father’s pen had gone.
Outside, the stars blazed brightly and the waves crashed like cymbals on the rocks. Gulping at the fresh air, Jack hurried across the patch of green in front of the lighthouse to the stone steps. Not a trace of Tattoo’s boat could be seen in the long beam from the lamp.
He rubbed at his fingers to stop the annoying tingling which had started the moment he’d stepped outside. They set you up. You should have fought harder! he fumed. Jago could be anywhere by now, maybe even in another time and place.
In the distance the lights of Wakeham winked silently, dark hills rising on either side. What if Alpha had gone with him? Jack hung his head. Why did he follow that bully when it obviously made him miserable?
He kicked at a stone. Nothing was ever black and white, Nan would say. Maybe Jago hadn’t always been so mean and Alpha had served him gladly once … The tie must have been strong to keep him so loyal. Bu
t even if it was his duty, as Jago insisted, he must be close to breaking point.
A seagull took off from the landing stage below, clapping its wings together noisily. As it skimmed across the surf, Jack thought of Bill and the magic which had led to his transformation. Jago had got it so wrong. He and Alpha had worked together. It had been the trust between them, not simply his own will, which had made it all possible. You don’t need a whistle to control him, he thought. A proper Magus would –
The tingling in his fingers had grown so strong it interrupted his thoughts. He looked down and his heart gave a thud. If Jago could read his palm now, what would he make of this? A tiny mark, exactly the same size and shape as the symbol on the mirror, was imprinted on the tip of his forefinger. α
Bewildered, he stared out at the sea. Had he touched the mirror in his dream? Had Alpha somehow reached him while he’d slept? For a second it seemed the only explanation.
Then, his memory did a sort of somersault and raced back to the extraordinary moment before his last leap, when he’d calmly let go of the mirror. Of course … so much had happened, but now he remembered it clearly: a stinging sensation, like he’d touched a red-hot iron.
A thrill ran through him. It felt as if suddenly he’d been transformed too. He glanced back at the red and white tower. That place had taught him a hard lesson, yet a strange thought had just occurred to him. If Jago hadn’t been there to snatch the mirror, none of this would have happened at all.
He stretched out his forefinger and traced a trembling pattern over the hills around Wakeham. ‘I know you’re watching,’ he whispered. ‘We’ve got to get it back. Whatever it takes. You want to be free of him, don’t you?’
As he finished speaking the wind changed direction, flinging white caps of surf into the air. It carried with it an unmistakeable sound: a long, melancholy howl.
Chapter 35
‘What the heck was that?’ Charlie freewheeled off the end of Sybil’s bridge and came skidding to a halt. She’d arrived on the quayside at Wakeham. ‘Sybil,’ she hissed, ‘can you hear me? Where’s Jack?’
‘Close. Very close. But some other magic has taken over, far stronger than mine.’ Sybil’s disembodied voice sounded frantic. ‘Be careful, dear. I’m shutting the time lock down. If anyone catches me, I’m for it. I have to go.’
‘Hang on! You can’t just leave me here. What am I supposed to do now?’ But the bridge had vanished and Charlie’s question went unanswered.
Nervously, she wheeled her bike across the bumpy paving stones and propped it against the wall outside the Lock and Quay. Removing her cycle helmet, she looked around. Above the fish and chip shop, the curtains twitched. A middle-aged woman in striped pyjamas stood watching her with one hand clamped to her mouth.
Another spine-chilling howl echoed round the harbour. ‘Oo, I don’t think I like this at all,’ muttered Charlie.
The woman at the window looked terrified too. Following the direction of her gaze, Charlie’s eyes settled on the bus shelter on the far side of the quay. From the shadows, two amber eyes met hers. Man oh man, that’s all I need. Bet that’s Flyn’s dog.
Alpha emerged. With his eyes fixed on her face, he sniffed at the ground.
‘O-kay … that’s no dog.’ Remembering the gash on Blunt’s leg, Charlie slowly put one foot behind the other. ‘Easy does it, there’s a good boy. You – stay – right – there.’
But Alpha didn’t do as he was told. Before she could take another step he sprang forwards and ran flat out, covering the ground between them at lightning speed. Every sensible thought flew from Charlie’s mind. She screamed, started to run for her bike, then stopped because the wolf had immediately changed direction to cut her off.
Without any clear idea of where she was going, she fled the other way and, before she knew it, her feet had carried her onto the wooden jetty. ‘Help, someone!’ she wailed. She’d chosen the worst escape route possible: ahead there was only the sea.
Four paws pounded after her. It was too late to turn back. With a gasp of panic, Charlie flung herself into the nearest boat. ‘Come on, come on!’ Her fingers felt like sausages rather than parts of her hands, but at last the mooring rope came undone. She tugged at the boat’s starter cord. The engine fired, then promptly died.
‘Noooo!’
In desperation, Charlie picked up a metal hook which lay at her feet and as Alpha bounded towards her, she hurled it at him.
The wolf stumbled and let out a yelp.
‘Serves you right!’ she screamed, yanking the starter cord again. The engine only spluttered and the boat drifted aimlessly into the harbour. ‘Look what you’ve done! Oooo, this is hopeless. I’m no use to anyone stuck out here!’
Alpha stood perfectly still, watching her every move, and when the engine failed a third and fourth time, he lifted his nose to sniff at the wind. The rattle of rigging grew louder, the sign at the Lock and Quay swung wildly and Charlie’s bike toppled over with a crash.
‘Oh, for crying out loud! I s’pose you think that’s funny,’ she yelled. ‘Well, you haven’t won yet! Wait till I find Jack. He’s a Magus, right, so you better watch out. You and that lowlife Flyn are in for a big –’
Alpha had locked his eyes on the boat. A flash of light ran along the hull, a puff of smoke rose from the prow and the whole thing spun three hundred and sixty degrees, knocking Charlie clean off her feet.
‘Whoa, help!’ Face down in a pile of stinky fishing nets, Charlie clung on for dear life. A fierce rocking had begun and, for several seconds, it felt as if the boat was about to disintegrate. Then, with a terrifying jolt, it surged forwards, sending her and the fishing nets sliding under one of the benches.
When, eventually, she managed to crawl out, she gazed at the receding figure of Alpha. ‘Hey … wait a minute.’ Her head whipped round to check where the boat was heading. In front of the Pentland lighthouse, a tiny speck waved at her.
A shriek exploded out of her and she leapt up, waving back madly. ‘Jack! Hey Jack, it’s me!’ Oh my God, he’s never gonna believe this! ‘Guess what, Jack? I got it all wrong. The wolf – he’s on our side – he’s making the wind blow!’
The boat zipped forwards, forcing her back down with a bump. Beaming from ear to ear, Charlie hung over the edge, playing with the flumes of white spray which rose like wings on either side. And it was only then, when she was hardly looking, that she noticed the row of dark squiggles on the prow. Still smouldering, a name had been scorched into the wood: Phantom.
Several more excited shrieks ripped through the night air. Jack was going to love this. He couldn’t have come up with a better name if he’d chosen it himself.
***
Above the fish and chip shop, the curtains fell gently together as the owner, Mrs Mortimer, went to lie down.
Shutting her eyes very tight, she tried to get her facts straight. A ghost child, who’d appeared out of nowhere on a red racing bike, had just stolen Tattoo’s boat … which thanks to a freak wind conjured by … yes, a wolf, was even now carrying her poor tormented soul to the lighthouse.
Mrs Mortimer opened one eye to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. A howling wolf and a shrieking child! She gave a dramatic shudder. Wakeham and its lighthouse was haunted, of that there was no doubt. She couldn’t wait to tell her customers.
Chapter 36
‘So it’s a virus that causes all the trouble?’ said Charlie.
Jack nodded at her. ‘Yep, it affected the ship’s GPS as well as the lighthouse.’
‘And Flyn’s behind it?’
‘Uh-huh. At first, he said all he wanted was the mirror. Then he got really mad and …’
‘What?’
‘I’ve just thought. I left the mirror spinning …’
‘So?’
‘It’s all my fault. I’m the one who told him about the ship. Then I showed him exactly what to do
!’
‘Hang on a minute. First of all, it’s not your fault there are bad people in the world! And second of all –’ Charlie wagged a finger at him ‘– that whole plan was festering in his nasty rotten mind before he saw the future. Didn’t he say he’d got people working on it? Yeah, right. Never underestimate a maniac.’
A smile crept over Jack’s face. Nothing could contain his delight at having his straight-talking friend beside him again. They were returning to Wakeham, the boat’s engine rumbling noisily at their backs. He’d managed to start it first time, laughing and shrugging at Charlie’s raised eyebrows. Her arrival in Tattoo’s newly-named boat had made him feel invincible.
From the moment she’d thrown her arms around him, Charlie had been firing non-stop questions, eager to know everything, especially about Alpha, who had earned her undying love. Jack, in turn, had listened spellbound to the details of her encounter with Sybil, turning white at the story of Seth and his son.
Jago had hidden so much of his past he could hardly take it in. Talk about mind games. It was terrifying to think that a murderous thought could be planted in another man’s head. Now he understood Jago’s black mood on the train and why he’d insisted on calling the mirror a death ray. It had destroyed lives.
Jack replayed the journey in his head. ‘So Fenstreet’s a time junction. No wonder it disappeared from the departure board! We went through it twice. There was an old woman in a purple coat and Jago did this trick –’
‘That’s her!’ interrupted Charlie. ‘Sybil! She reckons he tapped into your magic somehow.’
‘And they know each other, you say?’
‘Yep, apparently she loved him once. Weird, huh?’
‘Then why pull a stunt like that? Right in front of her? I don’t get it. He could have been caught.’
‘He needed to impress you. By showing off his own magic, he got you to trust him, right? Enough to let him see the mirror. And meanwhile Sybil had to close Fenstreet and all the other junctions. She could lose her job over this. So he managed to get at her – and her world. They chucked him out, remember? All the chaos probably suits him fine.’
