Zal and Zara and the Great Race of Azamed

by Kit Downes

  Enchantments, curses and small demons spewed from Haragan’s and Zara’s spell-casting hands and destroyed each other in the air between them. The magic crackled and trailed behind, giving the two carpets the appearance of one fiery comet containing all seven colours. In the city, Arna fainted again and Augur chewed his hat. The Caliph had to push several people aside for a better view.

  On the carpets the conflict was reaching a stalemate. As Zal realized it, his desperation began to grow. Haragan could match him as a sword-fighter and Zara as a spell-caster. They weren’t going to win. The race might even be a draw! Unless … he did something drastic.

  Zal parried Haragan’s dagger and pushed it upwards, out of the way, as he jumped across onto Haragan’s carpet. It was an unheard-of tactic, but it worked.

  Zal collided with Haragan, causing him to lean to the right. The Shadow carpet followed this movement, peeling away from the Thesa one.

  “Zal!” Zara shouted in horror.

  Zal pushed Haragan onto his back on the carpet and then twisted to wave Zara on. He was frantic for her to obey. It would all be for nothing if she came back for him.

  “Go!” he shouted, just as Haragan punched him in the face. Zal’s sword went flying off into the desert sands but he ignored it, grabbed Haragan’s arms and wrestled, trying to get the dagger away from him. In glimpses he saw, to his great relief, that Zara had obeyed. Their rainbow carpet was still on course for the city and the finish line. But Rip was dancing at the carpet edge, barking at him in anguish and Zara kept looking back over her shoulder.

  “Go!” he shouted again. He turned back to Haragan just as the dagger flew towards his face.

  What happened next, Zal could never quite remember. He gripped Haragan’s wrist to turn the strike aside and they somehow turned a double somersault on the wavering carpet, landing on their sides. All of a sudden they were almost alongside Zara and Rip. Zal found himself on his back with Haragan over him. The Burying Blade came down. Zal rolled aside. The blade plunged through the Caliph’s section of the rainbow carpet, a few inches from the back edge and buried itself, up to the hilt, in a small rock that was jutting up from the desert.

  The carpet kept going and Haragan released the dagger hilt just in time not to be pulled off with it. At the same time, he and Zal saw that the dagger, buried in the rock, still had a chunk of carpet round it – which was still connected to the rest of the carpet by a long length of stretched wool. Which kept getting longer.

  The Shadow Society’s scavenged patchwork rainbow carpet was unravelling.

  “No!” Haragan screamed.

  Zal punched him in the stomach and leapt to his feet, conscious that the carpet was fast disappearing from under them. But his own, proper rainbow carpet, and his crew, were a bare ten feet away. If only he could…

  Zal ran the three steps left of the Shadow carpet and launched himself across the gap.

  He almost fell short. His grasping fingers gripped the waving tassels on the end of the carpet. Zal’s fingers were long and thin, and years of fencing and weaving had made them strong. He held on. His legs slammed and then bounced against the desert, raising up a great trail of sand behind them.

  “Zal!”

  “I’m here!”

  As Zal strained, Rip bit into his tunic and pulled. Zara’s magic formed a soft cushion under him and he slithered forward onto the carpet. Rip barked with joy.

  The twin green flags of the finishing line came into view and they all looked to the left, at Haragan, who was also holding on by his fingertips – to his last few inches of carpet. The two teams, Thesa and Shadow, were neck and neck.

  Haragan’s carpet ran out ten feet before the line and he thumped down on his stomach into the sand. In an explosion of cheering and a storm of falling flower petals, Zal, Zara and Rip crossed the finishing line.

  Rainbow

  Zal, Zara and Rip glided to a halt and stepped down from their winning carpet. They found that all they could do was jump up and down on the spot, screaming with triumph and laughter. Rip howled in excitement. Augur and Arna burst out of the cheering crowds and ran up, crying with delight, to hug their children and join the jumping and dancing.

  “We did it! We did it!”

  “We won.”

  “You won.”

  “You did it. You did it!”

  “Where did that ghost come from?”

  Zal sat down as the fatigue at last caught up with him. Zara dropped beside him and said, “And, did we show Haragan.”

  “Yes, I think you did,” said a voice behind them.

  Zal and Zara leapt to their feet; they both knew it was the height of bad manners to sit while the Caliph was standing. He smiled and handed Zal the chest containing the prize money.

  “Thank you, Your Excellency. Thank you,” Zal said, trembling. He just managed to bow without falling over.

  “You deserve it, my boy,” said the Caliph. “Your carpet is indisputably the finest this year. All kinds of tricks from a cheater and then that ghost and it carried you through all of them. May I?”

  “Of course, of course.” Zal and Zara stood back as the Caliph examined their rainbow carpet with approving hands.

  “Magnificent,” he said, winking at them. “And I always thought rainbow carpets were just a story.”

  Suddenly they were all distracted by a voice shouting, “Grab him!”

  Haragan, bruised and dusty, stumbled across the finishing line to be seized by two guards.

  “Ha!” Zara yelled, jumping up and down. “I finally beat you. Finally. Ha!”

  She stopped and blushed, remembering that there was such a thing as being a bad winner.

  “What?” said Haragan. His surprise was clear as he was pulled up before the Caliph.

  “You’re under arrest,” said Captain Burs, who had joined them.

  “What?” said Haragan again.

  Burs grabbed Haragan’s right wrist and held it up, pulling off his glove. Glinting on Haragan’s third finger was the blue-white diamond ring from the Caliph’s study.

  “My personal thief-detector,” said the Caliph without humour. “I keep one in every room of the palace. They all carry Siren spells. No one of an impure heart is able to resist taking them. This one is from my library, and that was definitely my fragment at the tail end of your carpet. That you stole it is bad enough, but I’m insulted that you put it on the back rather than the front.”

  Haragan’s eyes were as wide as two full moons. Zal and Zara looked at each other with amazed relief and then quickly looked forward, remembering that they knew nothing at all about the contents of the Caliph’s private library.

  “Your biggest mistake,” said the Caliph, “was to forget that we in the city observe the race through telescopes and magical means for the whole duration.”

  “We saw every attempt at cheating made by you and your team,” said Captain Burs. He turned to his deputy. “Have his teammates arrested as soon as they’ve walked back. And aside from cheating, theft and attempted murder, I also want to question you regarding a very suspicious fire at the Thesa residence.”

  “Despite helping to deal with that ghost, I cannot ignore your dangerous, illegal and unsporting racing tactics,” the Caliph said. “The Shadow Society is hereby forbidden from ever again competing in the Great Race.”

  The six Secretaries for Proclamations began fighting to be the one to write this down.

  “On the subject of the Shadow Society, Your Excellency,” said Burs, “it occurs to me that this would be the perfect time to conduct a thorough investigation and audit of their activities. I’ve received many complaints about them over the years, but in this race they’ve stepped too far.”

  “An excellent idea, Captain.”

  The crowds, many of whom had fallen foul of the Shadow Society at one time or another, raised a mighty cheer.

  Haragan let the guards lead him away without resistance, but Zal stepped up to him. They looked at each other. Zal was familiar wit
h the tales of the Shadow Society. He had heard of their extreme loyalty, their discipline and dedication in their training and their punishments for the slightest failure. Haragan had nearly destroyed his home and almost ruined his father. He’d dropped him into a volcano and left him for dead. He’d tried cheating in the race. But he had also thrown the javelin that had killed the mummy and then helped Zara destroy the Emperor. Zal knew how easy it was to break into the Caliph’s palace, but with its talking gates, the Guild school was another matter. Haragan and his friends had woven two carpet fragments together well enough to fly. His carpet was stretched out across the sands now but it had served him very well. The original weavers, whoever they were, would have been proud, Zal thought. He met Haragan’s eyes again and spoke.

  “I know you tried hard.”

  Zal couldn’t read Haragan’s eyes, and the rest of his face was concealed beneath his scarf, but as he was dragged away by the guards, Haragan was smiling. Smiling as bright as the dawn sun. He found his feet, matched his guards’ pace and made no attempt to escape. They were taking him to a jail cell. Not to the Shadow headquarters. Not to another humiliating debriefing. Not to more punishment duties. Not to more training and not, after the events of the race, to another possible visit to the Dark Room. They were taking him to a cell, with a proper bed, where the Society would not be able to touch him. He would no longer have to account for himself to people he didn’t respect. He didn’t have to answer to a society he had never asked to be a part of. Because he was safe with the Citadel Guard. Not only safe, but free. Finally, after all these long years, he was free.

  Zal watched him go and then walked back to Zara, Rip and the carpet. Augur and Arna beamed and soon they were all cheering and laughing at their race victory, just as the other contestants began to arrive across the finishing line.

  The Thesas and the Auras held a celebratory dinner that night, sitting on the hovering rainbow carpet in Arna’s sitting room. A small table with a bouquet of flowers had been placed in the middle of it. In the corner of the room floated a small demon Zara had summoned, and discreetly he played soft music on a seven-stringed violin. The one blight on the day was that Zara’s prophecy had been correct: they would never be able to race their carpet again. The Caliph had proclaimed that, despite the tremendous drama, the race had been over far too fast. Carpets of six colours and fewer would still be allowed to compete in the future. Seven colours would be excluded.

  “It is fair,” said Arna. “You left every other carpet miles behind. They all deserved a chance at winning. But you both achieved so much. Your mothers would be proud of you.”

  “Ummp,” said Zal, swallowing his mouthful. “That’s something we have to do. Visit them.”

  “First thing in the morning,” said Zara. “We’ll get flowers first with the prize money. And I agree about the race, Dad. It is fair.”

  “But that still leaves other options open,” said Augur.

  “The thread, you mean?” said Arna. Zal and Zara had just finished telling them the full story of their adventure.

  “Just so.” Augur swallowed his mouthful. “We’ll be able to auction it off for a small fortune. Let’s face it – we won’t be able to keep it a secret for ever. Unless…”

  “Unless what?” said Zal.

  “The spiders are still down there. If we can go back and capture some of them, we could corner the market for the thread.”

  “Yes,” said Arna. “Zara can use magic on the water dragon and the mummies again, and if you can repeat the six cuts…”

  “You bet I can,” said Zal. “But there’s another reason why we should go back. The bodyguards. The Emperor escaped, but there might still be some of them left down there. They may be Shadows, but they’re also ancient Asameedians; our ancestors. They fought for our freedom from slavery and we forgot them. We should tell them the war is over. We should let them rest.”

  “A very noble thought,” said Arna.

  “And after that, the shape is the limit,” said Zara.

  “Yes – sorry?”

  “It’s something I found when we were flying this one.” Zara patted their victorious carpet. “It had a maximum speed because the rectangular shape stopped it from going any faster.”

  “All carpets have to be rectangular,” said Zal.

  “I’m not sure any more,” said Zara. “I think the rectangle is the only shape that will fly without the transparent thread. But with the thread…”

  “We could make all sorts of shapes.” Zal sat back, imagining it. “Squares, circles, triangles, pentagons…”

  “We might not get into the Great Race again,” said Augur, “but we could start a new one: the Seven-colour Race. Find out which shape is the best!”

  “Well.” Arna raised his glass. “The toast is to victory and the future.”

  “Victory and the future!” they chorused. The glasses chinked.

  “Will you perhaps help me weave some of these shapes?” Augur asked Zal.

  “Of course,” said Zal. “I’ve got three more years before I’m old enough for the Guard. I might as well make some money in the meantime. And I’ll give you those fencing lessons we talked about, Dad.”

  “I want to teach you to be less wary of magic,” said Zara. “If we’re going to be racing more, we’ll need it. Loads of people saw Haragan’s cheats. How many will have got ideas from it?”

  “I’d like to learn to parry magic with my sword,” said Zal, refilling Zara’s glass.

  “I’ll throw as much combat magic at you as you like,” Zara smiled. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Great,” said Zal. Then his smile suddenly disappeared and he pointed an angry finger at Zara.

  “But I’m still not marrying you!”

  Out in the desert, night had fallen. The stars were scattered across the black sky. A lone figure picked and stumbled his way through the sand dunes. A thread reel was in his hands and round it he was winding the single, twisted strand that the Shadow Society’s rainbow carpet had been reduced to.

  Hani had no fear of discovery. Shar and Dari had been grabbed by the Citadel Guard as soon as they had staggered through the city gates. Other Shadows were being arrested left, right and centre. Their Leader was rumoured to have fled the city. None of them would have the time to come looking for their carpet.

  His carpet now.

  He had come last this year. His shoddily woven indigo carpet, that he really should have put more effort into enchanting, had been the last one to skim across the line. No one had noticed. All had been too busy talking about the Thesas’. But he couldn’t begrudge Zara Aura: she deserved it for all the other times she had been beaten by Haragan.

  But next year would be different. The Shadow carpet was his carpet now. He would re-weave it, and he’d do a much better job than they had. Seven-colour carpets were now banned, but that didn’t mean the secret couldn’t be used in a six-colour. Who knew to what effect? He would find the secret they hadn’t bothered to look for. And then…

  Yes. Next year would be different. The race, the races, would be spectacular.

  ZAL AND ZARA AND THE CHAMPIONS’ RACE

  November 2012

  The winners of the world’s greatest carpet race are back for another fast-paced magical adventure. Zal and Zara are in the Kingdom of Shirazar to compete in the Champions’ Race, the ultimate magic flying contest, when they discover a plot to sabotage the competition. With their old foes in the Shadow Society seeking revenge and their Rainbow Carpet ruined, Zal and Zara must act fast if they want to save the race – and win it.

  BY KIT DOWNES

  THE FLAXFIELD QUARTET

  Also in the series: Fireborn, Doubleborn and Starborn (coming soon).

  Sam is only halfway through his wizard’s apprenticeship, when his master, Flaxfield, dies unexpectedly. Soon powerful wizards arrive at Flaxfield’s cottage and Sam, in fear and confusion, runs away from the only home he has ever known. So begins the thrilling and powerful Flaxfield Quarte
t. And as an old danger continues to grow in strength and power, Sam learns that there is no running from destiny…

  BY TOBY FORWARD

  MASTERPIECE

  Marvin, a beetle, lives with his family under the kitchen sink in the Pompaday’s apartment. James, a boy, lives there with his family. After James receives a pen-and-ink set for his birthday, Marvin surprises him by creating an elaborate miniature drawing. James gets all the credit and before long these unlikely friends are caught up in an art heist at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that could lead them to a famous long-lost drawing. But James can’t go through with the plan without Marvin’s help – and that’s where things get complicated (and interesting!)

  BY ELISE BROACH

  TOBY ALONE

  Toby Lolness is just one and a half millimetres tall and is the most wanted person in the Great Oak Tree. When Toby’s father makes a groundbreaking discovery, tapping into the heart of the Tree’s energy, he refuses to reveal the secret because it could damage their world. But one man is determined to get hold of the forbidden knowledge. Toby’s parents are imprisoned and sentenced to death. Only Toby has escaped, but for how long… His adventures continue in Toby and the Secrets of the Tree.

  BY TIMOTHÉE DE FOMBELLE

  ZAL AND ZARA AND THE GREAT RACE OF AZAMED

  Kit Downes was nineteen when he wrote Zal and Zara and the Great Race of Azamed. The idea of writing a story about the greatest magic carpet race in the world came to him in a café in Hay-on-Wye. He began the book the same day and finished it in his first term at university. He has now graduated and works as a teacher, spending his spare time travelling and searching for “good” stories as inspiration for his own writing. Zal and Zara and the Champions’ Race is his next book.