Deadly Magic

by Skye Melki-Wegner

  I flipped to the next page of the leaflet, which advertised other towns in the region. Apparently, we could catch a ferry from Paihia to Russell, where a stunning lookout perched on a hilltop above the bay …

  I froze.

  ‘This is it,’ I whispered. ‘Flagstaff Lookout … look at the picture! It’s where Mariner and Dragon were standing in that photo!’

  Riff studied the brochure, and then nodded. ‘Guess we know where to look for Mariner’s next clue.’

  Soon enough, we found ourselves on yet another tourist bus, surrounded by chattering holidaymakers. Their mood was so jovial, so infuriatingly relaxed, that my entire body clenched. Didn’t they have any idea what was at stake?

  I released a slow breath. Of course they didn’t. They were just sightseers, heading north to explore New Zealand’s coastline. They had no idea a group of sorcerers sat among them, with the weight of the world on our shoulders.

  By the time we reached Paihia, it was early evening. The bus deposited us at a ferry terminal at the edge of the bay. Looking seaward, I could see several of the bay’s famous islands. They were tiny lumps of wilderness, covered in stubbly trees and boulders. Each island had its own knobbled shape, with different knurls and protrusions, as if a gigantic child had spilled a jigsaw puzzle across the water.

  ‘There are over a hundred and forty islands in the bay,’ Orbit said, reading from our tourist brochure. ‘Goodness, that’s rather a lot, isn’t it? I hope we don’t have to search them individually.’

  I shook my head. ‘Mariner will have left a clue.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Remember what Nephrite said, down in the caves? He always had a flair for the overdramatic.’

  We used Dragon’s card to buy our ferry tickets, as well as hot soup and sandwiches. The boat ran regularly across the bay, carrying passengers from one seaside town to another. On the way to Russell, we stood on the deck, staring across the water as an evening breeze teased our hair into tangles.

  ‘Weird to think it’s out there,’ Riff said, after a while.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘The Sunrise Vial.’ Riff stared across the bay, where azure waves brushed the evening sky. ‘Something so evil in such an awesome place, you know what I mean? Just doesn’t feel right.’

  The town of Russell crouched on a small peninsula, jutting out into the bay. It was a quaint little town, brimming with historic buildings. As we passed a tourist information booth, I collected a handful of leaflets about the local attractions – just in case we needed help deciphering Mariner’s clues.

  Flagstaff Lookout perched at the top of a hill, just outside the town. The hilltop was grassy, with sweeping 360-degree views of the bay. A cold breeze whipped our faces, carrying the tang of salt and seaweed.

  An enormous sundial stood on the lower peak, with a base of colourful mosaic tiles. Its upraised arm stood taller than a full-grown man. As a fan of anything that could remotely be considered a gadget, Orbit was instantly infatuated.

  ‘Oh look – it’s called the Centennial Sundial,’ he said, keenly scanning a leaflet. ‘Did you know the arm that casts the shadow is called a “gnomon”? The term comes from Greek! I’ve come across it a few times in my mathematical studies, but I never realised its origin. Quite remarkable, isn’t it?’

  Riff raised an eyebrow. ‘No offence, mate, but I don’t reckon this is really the time for lessons in ancient gadgetry.’

  By now, the sun had almost completely set. The final rays of gold lay across the sea, slumbering softly.

  ‘We don’t have much time,’ I said, climbing to the peak of the hill. ‘This is where Mariner and Dragon posed for the picture. He must’ve left some kind of clue, something Dragon would notice.’

  We scoured the hilltop, examined the granite path and peered under a wooden bench. But we found no handy codes etched into the stone, or the wood, and the light was rapidly fading. I pulled the photo of Mariner and Dragon from my pocket, examined it for a moment, and positioned myself in exactly the same location as Mariner. Perhaps if I followed his exact line of sight in the photograph …

  My gaze fell upon a patch of empty sea.

  ‘Damn,’ I said. ‘I thought Mariner might’ve been looking at the right island.’

  ‘Nah,’ Riff said. ‘Not dramatic enough, I reckon. Anyway, he already used that trick down in the caves.’ He turned to Orbit. ‘What do you think?’

  Orbit blinked. ‘Me?’

  ‘You’re the one who wanted to try out “orienteering”, right?’ Riff gestured at the scene before us. ‘Well, here you go. Orientate away.’

  Orbit glanced around, uncertain. As always, he looked faintly flustered to find himself the unexpected centre of attention. I opened my mouth to save him from the embarrassment, but Phoenix beat me to it.

  ‘You’re the one who wanted to be a pirate,’ she said, whirling on Riff. ‘Shouldn’t you be keen to solve a treasure hunt?’

  ‘Nah, I’m more the looting and plundering type. You know, with a parrot on my shoulder and a bottle of rum. Someone else can handle the navigation.’

  ‘The gnomon!’ Orbit exclaimed.

  ‘Yeah, we know,’ Riff said, ‘the sundial arm’s called a gnomon. But like I said, it’s not really the time for a lesson in –’

  Orbit cut him off, shaking his head in pure excitement. ‘No, no, you don’t understand; I think the gnomon is the clue!’

  With a spark of hope, we followed him back towards the sundial. Orbit stumbled across its enormous mosaic base, peering at the numbers and figures etched into the dial. ‘It’s an ancient clock,’ he said. ‘The gnomon casts a shadow, like the hand of a clock, to indicate the hour of the day.’

  ‘Yeah, so?’ Riff said.

  ‘We’re looking for the Sunrise Vial, aren’t we?’ Orbit flipped back through the stack of leaflets. ‘I saw a list of sunrise and sunset times printed here, so tourists know when to come up here for the best view … Aha!’

  He brandished the leaflet, his face alight with excitement. ‘Look here! In August, the sun rises at approximately seven am.’

  Hurrying forward, I joined Orbit on the enormous mosaic base of the sundial. We found the marking for 7 am, and I extended my arm in imitation of the gnomon, imagining its shadow had drawn a line towards the correct marker.

  ‘At seven,’ I said, ‘the shadow should point this way …’

  The sea was a face of rippling shadows, with freckles of wilderness scattered on its skin. Even so, there was just enough light to make out an island in the distance. It was a decent size, larger than many of the others, with a bristling forest of trees on its peaks.

  And I was pointing directly towards it.

  We found a boat-hire shop down by the wharf. It was about to close for the night, but Phoenix – who had grown up in a boating family near Sydney – managed to wrangle us an overnight deal on a tiny powerboat.

  ‘The engine’s pathetic,’ she complained, as we hauled it down to the shore, ‘but the bloke wouldn’t hire anything more powerful to teenagers.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘We’re after stealth, not speed.’

  Phoenix snorted. ‘Won’t get much of either from this thing.’

  Out on the water, she cranked the engine – and with a spluttering, roaring gargle, it thoroughly proved her point. The four of us barely fit inside the boat, but it made enough noise for an invading army. It crested and bumped over the waves, buzzing like a horde of overenthusiastic blow-flies. I scraped back my hair, trying to keep the frizz from whipping my face with every smack of wind.

  The island loomed before us, rising jagged from the sea. Phoenix cut the engine about a hundred metres out, silencing the boat, and we used a pair of oars to slosh our sodden way towards the shore.

  ‘Don’t see any other boats,’ Riff said hopefully. ‘Maybe we beat the Inductors here …’

  I shook my head. ‘Nephrite’s got a Chameleon jet, remember? It’s probably hidden somewhere on the
island.’

  ‘I dunno,’ Riff said, ‘there’s not much space to land. The whole island’s covered in trees. I mean, she’d need to find a clearing or something, right?’

  ‘Oh no, not at all,’ Orbit said. ‘You can land a Chameleon jet on water. They’re designed to be amphibious vehicles – quite ingenious, really!’

  We all stared at him.

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’ I said.

  Riff groaned. ‘God, this mission just gets better and better.’

  We hauled our boat into a quiet cove, concealed by the overhanging canopy, and set off into the trees. My shoes were soaked, and my socks squelched in uncomfortable puddles around my toes.

  The island was large and elongated, arching like a crescent moon. It had two main peaks, with a shallow valley between them. We headed for the nearest peak, hoping it might provide a decent view – and perhaps give us a clue as to where the Sunrise Vial was hidden.

  Bushland rustled around us, leaves jostling in a salty night breeze. I wrapped my arms across my chest, trying to fight the chill as my clothes slowly dried, clinging damply to my skin. The hike brought back the aches in my limbs, still bruised and grazed from the previous night’s misadventure in the caves.

  ‘This’d be a lot easier if we just levitated,’ Riff said.

  I shook my head. ‘We can’t afford to waste our quintessences. Not tonight.’

  ‘Yeah, but we can’t waste our physical strength either.’

  I’d expected a silly retort, but this was a surprisingly rational rebuttal. Perhaps Riff had a point. We hadn’t treated our bodies kindly over the last few days, and we wouldn’t be much use in a fight if we could barely stand up straight.

  We crested the peak of the hilltop – and when the canopy still obscured our view, we succumbed to temptation and risked a quick levitation. Several metres above the trees, we steadied ourselves in the air and surveyed the island. I pulled my aching arms in vague circles to stop myself from drifting sideways. It felt a bit like treading water.

  ‘What do you reckon?’ Riff asked.

  The island stretched out below us, curving gently upon the sea. The moon was bright and the sky was cloudless. We could see the entire shape of the island, painted in a dusty shade of grey by the moon.

  Orbit pointed down. ‘Do you see that inlet? If I were piloting a Chameleon, that’s where I would land it. A stretch of gentle water, sheltered from the elements. Everywhere else is too bumpy to land.’

  I stared down at the inlet. I couldn’t see anything, but Chameleon jets were almost invisible when their protean paint was active. If Orbit thought the jet was there, I was willing to believe him.

  ‘What’s that?’ Phoenix said. ‘On the other peak … there’s someone there!’

  The island’s second peak was half denuded, home only to a hodgepodge of rocks and boulders. One boulder in particular stood high above the rest, framed against the sky. Beside it, a slim figure slipped through the darkness. It was only a silhouette, a brief flicker of movement in the moonlight. But it was enough. From the long-legged stride, the slender build, and the bulk of a combat vest, I could guess the figure’s identity.

  ‘Nephrite,’ I whispered.

  The boulder rose against the night sky, tall and striking. I could imagine how majestic it must look at dawn, with the sunrise on the horizon, and this ancient monolith looming dark upon the golden light …

  ‘The Sunrise Vial,’ I said, my heart tight. ‘I bet that’s where it’s hidden. The most dramatic place on the island.’

  Quickly, we descended into the trees. I didn’t think Nephrite had looked in our direction, but we couldn’t risk being spotted. At least we had the element of surprise on our side, if nothing else.

  ‘We have to fight her,’ Phoenix said fiercely. ‘There’s nothing for it.’

  ‘How?’ I said. ‘She’s got a torpefier, and we’ve got nothing! The whole plan was to get the vial before she arrived.’

  ‘There’s four of us, and only one of her!’

  ‘So what? She’s got an Inductor’s strength. If we try to fight her, she’ll just put up a shield until our magic runs out, and then kill us one by one.’

  ‘Nomad’s right,’ Riff said. ‘She could’ve stolen quintessic energy from dozens of people. This isn’t a job for brute strength. We’ve gotta be clever about this. We’ve got to trick her somehow, outwit her.’

  Phoenix balled her fists. ‘Got any ideas, then?’

  ‘The Chameleon,’ I said, as inspiration struck. ‘If she flew here on the Chameleon, we could sabotage it! All we need to do is buy a bit of time.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Dragon will send a team to find us.’ I said. ‘We left her a trail with the credit card, right? Sooner or later she’ll look at her daily accounts, and she’ll see where we’ve been. She’ll send in a backup squad to capture Nephrite quick smart.’

  I paced back and forth, my heart racing. ‘We have to keep Nephrite stuck here until the backup squad arrives. It doesn’t matter if she’s got all three vials – if she’s trapped on an island, she can’t hurt anyone.’

  ‘Er … except for us,’ Riff pointed out. ‘No offence, Nomad, but being trapped on an island with a homicidal maniac armed with a deadly biological weapon wasn’t on my “to do” list this morning.’

  Phoenix turned to Orbit. ‘Could you sabotage the jet?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Orbit said eagerly. ‘I’ve always wanted to get my hands on the internal mechanisms of an S-311 engine.’

  ‘Well, now’s your chance,’ Phoenix said.

  Riff crossed his arms. ‘Um, hello? Didn’t anyone hear what I said about the homicidal maniac?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘We did.’

  Riff sighed. ‘Fine. Looks like I’ve been outvoted. But when we all get ourselves killed, just remember what I said about my zombie revenge plan.’

  No one laughed. The situation was too raw, and the fear too strong. So far, this entire mission had been a string of failures. If we failed again, we could all be dead by sunrise. It wouldn’t just mean our own ending, but the end of HELIX.

  And so we set to work, ignoring the throb in our limbs and the aches in our guts. All that mattered now was the mission, and the Chameleon jet, and our final chance to put things right.

  The inlet was dark, sloshing quietly with each incoming wave. We hid in a thicket of shrubs and wild grass, taking turns to peer out over the water.

  And there lay the Chameleon jet.

  Its protean disguise was partially active, rendering the aircraft invisible from a distance. But the engines weren’t running, and the sorcery was only weak. This close, we could make out the bulk of the plane. Four short, metallic legs extended from its base, with enormous circular pads to rest on the water.

  ‘It’s definitely an S-311,’ Orbit whispered. ‘The same one we flew here from Melbourne, I’d guess.’

  A burly figure stood atop the plane. Even in the greyish moonlight, I recognised the gruff blond beard of the camp security guard. He scanned the wilderness suspiciously, clutching a torpefier in his hands.

  ‘Damn,’ Riff whispered. ‘How are we gonna get around him?’

  Phoenix bit her lip. ‘Remember the quintessic shield he used in the cave? He could have another one, just like that one, protecting the entire jet right now.’

  When I peered into the tenebrous shroud, I caught a glimpse of flickering light. Sure enough, a dome of quintessence arched across the Chameleon jet, rippling down to brush the surface of the water.

  ‘You’re right,’ I said, blinking my vision back to normal. ‘We need a distraction.’

  ‘Want me to do the hokey pokey?’ Riff suggested. ‘I’m really good at the bit where you stick in your –’

  ‘Not a distraction that’ll get us all shot,’ I amended.

  ‘Oh, right. Fair enough.’

  Something was itching at the back of my mind. I strained my memories, trying to pinpoint the exact thought that was dancing around
for attention. Recently, we’d studied something about military diversion tactics …

  ‘The Ghost Army!’ I whispered.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘The Ghost Army of World War II. We studied it in our Disguises briefing, remember?’

  The others nodded, recognition dawning in their eyes. Only Orbit remained confused, since he’d been in a briefing for gadgeteer cadets, not field agents.

  ‘During the war,’ I said, ‘the Allies hired a bunch of artists and actors to create fake distractions. They put inflatable tanks in misleading locations, and created false soundtracks and trails to show soldier deployments in the wrong area.’

  ‘An army that didn’t really exist,’ Riff said, nodding. ‘It was all just smoke and mirrors – that’s why they called it a “ghost army”, right?’

  ‘We can do the same!’ I whispered. ‘If we create the impression of a HELIX squad somewhere on the island, we can draw the guard’s attention away – and while he’s chasing the fake squad, Orbit can slip past him and trash the jet.’

  A smile broke across Orbit’s face. ‘Oh yes, I see! How do you propose we start?’

  We all considered this.

  ‘I can do a fly-by levitation,’ Riff whispered. ‘If I zip by him quickly, like I’m flying a reconnaissance mission, he might figure I’m a scout for a bigger team of agents.’

  ‘But he could shoot you!’ I said.

  Riff shrugged. ‘Nah, I’m too fast. He wouldn’t have time to load a nightbead.’ There was no bravado in his words, just simple truth.

  ‘How about some smoke?’ Phoenix suggested. ‘One of us could light a campfire in the forest. If the guard sees the smoke, he could get suspicious and come to investigate.’

  ‘Good idea!’ I knotted my fingers together, thinking hard. ‘And how about some flashes of sorcerous lightning, or something? If he sees that in the distance, plus the smoke, perhaps he’ll think a HELIX jet crashed in the forest.’