by Cliff McNish
‘End it here,’ Larpskendya said to her. ‘You can stop it now, Gultrathaca. A simple command to the packs.’
‘What?’ Gultrathaca said. ‘Before the fight has even begun?’
‘How many Griddas would you have die first?’ This time it was Serpantha who had spoken.
Gultrathaca stared at him. ‘Are you still alive? What do I have to do to kill you?’
‘You should be asking a different question,’ Serpantha said. ‘How can you hold the Griddas back? They will fight, unless you order otherwise.’
‘Why should I?’
‘There is no way you can win a battle. All the Griddas will be killed.’
‘Do you really think a Gridda values life more than battle, whatever the outcome? I’ll kill you, Serpantha, before I die. I swear that.’
Larpskendya assessed her. ‘We offer an alternative.’
‘Let me guess,’ Gultrathaca said. ‘Some sort of peace. How meek that sounds. Do you believe the Griddas will settle for co-operation with anyone? We’ll have war instead, Wizard. It is all we know.’
‘That is not true.’ Larpskendya’s view took in all the packs. ‘Most of the Griddas have only known peace. The majority here are infants. I doubt any of them have experienced battle outside the playfulness of the birthing tunnels. If you made them fight, this would be their first battle.’
‘I remember my first battle as the best.’
‘Do you have the courage to lead them in another way?’
Gultrathaca smiled thinly. ‘What would you have us do, Wizard? Relinquish our death spells to play with the children of Earth?’
‘What do you think is happening here?’ Larpskendya said earnestly. ‘You sound like a High Witch, seeing enemies in all places. There are no enemies. The children have no quarrel with the Griddas. Nor the Wizards. Only the Highs wanted the endless war. And look at what they did to all Griddas, Gultrathaca, while they waged that war. They put you underground, mutilated you, despised you, denied you everything.’
‘We revenged that,’ Gultrathaca said. ‘This is our fight now, our choice to fight.’
‘No,’ Larpskendya said. ‘You are still following the aims of the High Witches. They manufactured the Griddas for war, but you deserve more than they made you for.’
Gultrathaca glanced at the distant Jarius. ‘I have seen the alternative to war. I would rather be dead than like her.’
‘Are you sure?’ Larpskendya came closer. ‘War is not all the Griddas want. I think you know that. You felt it as well. I saw the reaction the Griddas had when they first saw the Witches. Even you felt something, Gultrathaca. I watched you.’
‘It was not what I wanted!’
‘It can be.’ Larpskendya paused, seeking a way to make her understand. ‘The High Witches constructed you, but the call of blood is just a reflex, nothing more. If Heebra could be here now, see from her grave, she would expect you to fight, Gultrathaca. But she was wrong about the Griddas. You can be more than her machines. You already chose a different destiny when you left the tunnels. And you can again.’
Gultrathaca hesitated. Were her instincts mistaken? Everything inside her shrieked for battle. The pack-leaders were ready, of course. Like her they had trained for it all their lives. She glared at Yemi, aching to see that smile again so that she could smash it. His face remained stony. She studied the Gridda infants. If she raised a battle-cry, no doubt they would respond. But if they spent more time with the Witches, would they still go with her so lightly into battle? Would they?
Yet to accept terms from a Wizard – any terms – how was that acceptable? Anything but war now was not a victory at all. Not her victory anyway, or that of the Griddas. Instead, it would be the victory of Larpskendya and Serpantha. It would be the victory of the Orin Fen Witches. In some way it would also be the victory of Eric and Yemi – and perhaps even Jarius.
Gultrathaca could not bear that thought.
She prepared a death spell, one of her favourites. Not for Yemi. That would have been her preferred target, but a waste. She aimed it at Serpantha.
‘Do not do this!’ Larpskendya roared.
Gultrathaca raised the battle-cry. It had the intended effect. The infants instantly lost any uncertainty. Ordering her own pack forward, Gultrathaca signalled towards Serpantha. She expected Larpskendya to protect his brother, but he did not do so. Instead, he moved aside. He left Serpantha alone.
Eric called out, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Don’t interfere,’ Larpskendya told him.
‘You’ve no idea what skills I’ve got now,’ Eric said.
‘I do know, Eric. Stay back.’
Rachel glanced nervously towards Serpantha. ‘Don’t you want any help at all? We’ll all help. You know that, don’t you?’
Serpantha smiled at her. ‘Yes, I do. Stay a safe distance.’ Serpantha said nothing more. He waited.
The Griddas could not understand. They glanced at Gultrathaca. At her gesture, the entire pack initiated their death spells at once against Serpantha.
Yemi immediately shifted in front of the Wizard.
The deaths withered against his shield.
As Gultrathaca ordered the packs to fire more spells, Heiki exchanged a frightened look with Albertus Robertson. ‘Shouldn’t we do something?’ she asked. ‘We have to!’
‘No,’ Albertus answered. ‘This war has gone on an eternity. Let the Wizards and Griddas play it out between themselves, if we can.’
‘But I can’t stand doing nothing!’
‘Can’t you?’ Albertus turned to her. ‘Neither can the Griddas. They have to fight. Part of them can’t accept anything else. The Wizards realize that.’
Gultrathaca brought more of the Griddas into the assault, until immense numbers of packs were discharging every kind of spell at Serpantha. None affected him. He did not even have to defend himself. Yemi held the attacks off.
‘The boy’s power is not infinite,’ Gultrathaca told the packs.
‘You can’t reach me,’ Serpantha told her. ‘Don’t you understand? Even if you overpower Yemi, every child here will defend me – or any other target you choose.’
Like a procession, the packs continued to send their finest spells against Serpantha without any impact. Eventually, the heart went out of them. Gultrathaca gave no order, but the attacks gradually petered out. Then they ceased altogether.
Serpantha was unharmed. Yemi was unharmed. Many Griddas were exhausted.
‘You think it is over?’ Gultrathaca said to Larpskendya. Scarcely moving her claw, she sent a quiet assault Eric’s way. It was so unexpected that he did not destroy it in time. One of the prapsies jumped in front of him. The spell struck the edge of its wing, breaking it. ‘Oh, Eric,’ the prapsy said. ‘Oh.’ It flapped the useless wing. The other prapsy ran across Eric’s shoulder to hold the wing in place.
‘Well?’ Gultrathaca screamed at Eric, seeing his fury. ‘If you have the power, use it! Finish me!’ She looked at her army, and knew it was already defeated. ‘Finish us all off!’
Eric listened to the prapsy’s mild whimpers of pain.
‘Don’t!’ Rachel snapped, flying towards him.
‘Stay out of this!’ Eric said – though he wavered, hearing her voice.
Seeing his indecision, Gultrathaca fired another spell, this time aimed directly at the prapsies. Yemi stopped it, but the intention was obvious.
‘How dare you! How dare you!’ Eric did not even need to think. He had long ago perfected his killing technique for the Griddas. He knew how to unravel their magic. He could kill them at once, or he could play out their ruination forever.
Yemi threw a shield around the Griddas. He looked at Eric. Rachel had never seen the look of fear on Yemi’s face she saw now.
‘Get away, Yemi!’ Eric warned. ‘I’ve made my decision.’
Yemi shook his head.
Eric probed the shield. It contained an almost limitless number of spells to guard the Griddas, but Eric had more ways to
penetrate it. He started the dismantlement. As Yemi felt the shield failing, he squealed. He called on his butterflies. They surrounded him. They gave him all their strength. It was not enough.
And then Yemi put his little fingers over his eyes and spoke through his tears.
‘Stop, please!’ he begged. ‘Eric, stop it! Eric! Eric! Eric!’
Eric heard him. He heard everyone. He heard Larpskendya and Rachel and Serpantha and Albertus, all those who loved him, all shouting, all striving to reach him. No, he thought. I’m going to finish it. He avoided Yemi’s defences. Suddenly he realized that he did not even need to destroy Yemi’s spells. He could side-step them; he could alter them. He did so. He removed Yemi’s shield and gripped the hearts of the Griddas. He was the spell-destroyer. His was the fatal gift. He knew it; finally he knew what had frightened the spectrums so much.
There was no magic in the universe that could stop him.
The Griddas were disintegrating. Some were alone. Others were held by the Orin Fen Witches. Where they could, the Witches had gone to the Griddas, trying to keep them intact. Eric saw Gultrathaca. She shook as all the magic was loosened from her cells. Larpskendya was making his way unsteadily towards her. He reached her. She shuddered in his arms, like a child. He held her, in tears tried to hold her together.
Eric felt warmth near his ear. ‘Eric,’ the prapsy whose wing had been broken said to him. ‘Don’t, boys.’ It kissed his eyes. It made him look down. Eric looked. Jarius was under him, still clutching him, her face jolting.
Eric gazed at her, and beyond her. He saw Fola, unable to comfort Yemi. He saw Witches crying. He saw Serpantha crying.
He ended it.
The Griddas breathed again.
All except one. She did not want to breathe. Gultrathaca wanted to die, but Larpskendya held her tightly. He held onto her life.
27
The Wizard’s
Promise
Eric had only just withdrawn his destruction in time.
The Griddas, strewn across space, barely seemed to know where they were. Drifting aimlessly, the infants gathered in small groups, not sure why. Older Griddas felt their bodies; they felt wrong.
The prapsies held tightly to Eric, helping him to recover from what he had almost done. He shook as he peered between the warmth of their feathers. And wherever he peered spiders were on the move. Soldiers were searching for enemies they could not find. Healer spiders called to one another, understanding how ill their owners were, without understanding what to do.
But there was healing of a kind on Orin Fen the spiders had not dreamed of.
In graceful lines, the Witches ascended. Each took a Gridda into her private care, into her arms. Part of Orin Fen had been put in deep shade. The Witches carried the Griddas there, towards the consolation of the dark.
Gultrathaca was one of the last to be taken. There was a Witch waiting for her as well, but Larpskendya carried her himself. He held her wordlessly, because she was not yet ready for words – and Larpskendya was not ready, either. As they gazed at each other a mystery of feelings made them both weep. Larpskendya found a place where there were other Griddas, ones Gultrathaca knew. Should he leave her now, or should he stay? He did not want to leave her.
Above him, Jarius still held Eric. As one of the Orin Fen Witches embraced her, ready to take her to the surface, Eric said, ‘No. Wait. I – what is your name? I don’t even know your name.’
‘I am Jarius,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ Eric murmured, touching her face. ‘Thank you, Jarius.’
As she gave Eric and the prapsies back to Rachel, and was being led away, Jarius turned to the Witch who held her. ‘I wish to be taken to my own pack,’ she said. ‘They need me now.’
Rachel spent a moment repairing a broken wing. Then she, Eric and the prapsies followed Jarius as she was gradually taken down to the shadowed part of Orin Fen. And then, while Larpskendya stayed below with Gultrathaca, everyone else suddenly seemed to arrive beside them at once. For a few moments no one said anything, but the prapsies soon broke the silence. They were hungry, and sick of being quiet all the time. Eric took an ear-bashing, and knew it was not the only one he would get.
Everyone watched until the last of the Griddas had disappeared below. ‘What will happen?’ Rachel asked Serpantha at last. ‘What will happen to the Griddas now?’
‘Until they recover, their needs will be taken care of,’ he answered. ‘After that, they will have some choices to make. We will all have choices.’
‘Will they still want to fight?’
Serpantha smiled. ‘Perhaps, but I am hopeful. If anything can persuade them otherwise, the devotion of the Witches will do so.’
‘And you?’ Rachel stared up into Serpantha’s eyes. ‘What about the Wizards? If there are only two of you left, when you die, will there …’
‘No.’ He kissed her. ‘Each generation a few Wizards are born. If the endless war is finally over, Larpskendya and I will soon have company. I look forward to that. I look forward to many things.’
Eric started to shake again. The prapsies quietened down at once, steadying him. ‘I nearly killed them all,’ he whispered, raising his hands. ‘How could I have done that? Oh, I nearly did.’
‘But you held back,’ Serpantha said. ‘That was harder. That required more strength.’ He lifted Eric’s chin. ‘There is greatness in you. Don’t you know that yet?’
Eric stared at his hands. ‘I’m frightened. What … what am I, Serpantha?’
‘You are a forerunner, Eric. A beginning of something. There has been nothing like you before. I suspect there will be a different destiny for all of us, because of you – and those you lead.’
‘Those I lead?’
‘Don’t you realize?’ said a voice. ‘Even now?’ It was Albertus Robertson. He and a few other spectrums were close beside Eric, observing him intently.
‘Realize what?’ Eric said.
Both of Albertus’s girl thrill-seekers laughed. They glanced briefly at each other, held hands, smiled – a parting smile. Then one of the girls held Albertus’s face in her hands and kissed him. Afterwards she breathed deeply and turned to Eric. She waited, her expression full of yearning.
‘What’s happening?’ Eric asked.
‘I am not the natural leader of the spectrums,’ Albertus said.
‘You’re not?’
‘No, Eric. You are.’
‘What?’ Eric said. ‘But the ears …’
Albertus shook his head. ‘Are you still measuring those you meet by how they appear? Surely you’ve learned that lesson by now … besides, the spectrums may soon be altering again. I’m not certain in what way.’
‘But – how do you know I’m your leader?’
‘We’ve always known,’ Albertus said. ‘However something told us not to reveal it to you until now. And there was another reason we did not tell you, Eric. We were frightened of what you can do.’
The thrill-seeker girl who had left Albertus stared at Eric. She wanted to go to him, but she needed his permission first.
‘Are you still frightened?’ Eric asked Albertus.
‘No.’ A complex expression crossed Albertus’s face, and suddenly Eric could hear thousands of voices. It was the voices of all the spectrums opening up to him. The thoughts were not chaos; he heard each one clearly, personally.
The girl could wait no longer. ‘I was always your thrill-seeker,’ she said. ‘If you wish it, I will be. Say that you do. I have waited so long.’
‘I don’t need –’ Eric began – but she would not let him say no. She took him in her arms and, as soon as he felt her touch, Eric knew it was right. He did not feel embarrassed.
The prapsies watched. They saw the look Eric gave the girl – the same private one he shared with them. Upset, but not wanting to spoil this special moment for him, they stayed still. They tried to pretend they did not exist at all.
‘What’s up with you two?’ Eric said loudly.
/> ‘Nothing,’ one prapsy said. ‘We’re fine, boys.’
‘Thought I’d forgotten you, eh?’ Eric said. ‘Get up here, you flipping idiots. Introduce yourselves. She’s going to have to get used to you, so help her.’ The prapsies sprang from his shoulders, hovering beside the girl. ‘Say hello,’ Eric ordered them.
While the girl introduced herself, a flash of sunshine lit up Orin Fen.
Drawn by the intricacies of light, and encouraged by the Witches, most of the children had already started heading towards the planet. Deepers plunged into the golden oceans to discover what wondrous life swam there. Others went further out across Orin Fen, to the exalted mountain heights. There was no snow, but surely there would be something else … As for the thrill-seekers, they seemed to have gone completely wild. They whirled and soared across Orin Fen, and for a brief time, as Rachel watched, it appeared that even the spectrums had almost forgotten themselves as they took in the beauty of the yellow-brown skies. Rachel saw other children. Some were escorting more timid youngsters, or those with little magic, helping them to explore the strangeness without fear. Rachel looked for those she knew: Marshall, Paul, more than she could name, brave children.
‘I want to go there,’ Eric said, pinching her. ‘Hey, Rach, you coming?’
She hesitated.
‘What’s up?’ he asked. ‘You want to go somewhere else?’
‘Home,’ she said. ‘I want to go home.’ Then she laughed. ‘But I want to go to Ool as well! I’ve got to take these ones back’ – she squinted at the Essa dancing with happiness around her head – ‘and I want to see the storm-whirls, and talk with the Detaclyver. And most of all I want to go to Ithrea. I have to be sure that Morpeth’s safe.’
‘Well,’ Eric said, ‘I can’t take you to any of those places. But I can do one thing.’
Rachel felt shouts of joy. They came from inside her. Eric had freed her shifting spells. Her eyes turned blue as they crept up to be alongside the flyers and see what they had missed.
