Josh and the Magic Vial (26 page)

“What's wrong, dear? What's wrong with Josh?” While Millie explained her premonition, Mrs. Epp pulled on her clothes. “Now don't jump to conclusions, honey,” she was saying. “Maybe everything is okay.” But she didn't sound very convincing. “Let's go,” Mrs. Epp said, snatching her car keys from the bureau.

“Where?” Millie wanted to know.

“Well, if I had a sick child, the first place I would go is Children's Hospital,” Mrs. Epp reasoned. “So let's check there.” They stopped by the phone stand in the hallway, Mrs. Epp deftly flipping through the pages of the phone book. “Admissions,” she mumbled, running her finger down a long column of numbers. “There.” She punched in the digits and waited, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Hello,” she said. “I'd like to know if a Josh Dempster was admitted to the hospital last night.” A voice droned in the earpiece. “My daughter is a very good friend and she's worried about Josh.” Again, she waited. “Are visitors allowed? Thank you.” She hung up.

“Well?” Millie demanded.

“He was admitted,” Mrs. Epp confirmed. She looked puzzled. “Into Intensive Care.”

Without another word they hurried out of the apartment. Millie's thoughts raced. How much should she tell her mother? And what about the Dempsters? So far she hadn't said anything about Endorathlil's curse. She'd only said that Josh had looked deathly ill the night before and that she'd suspected his condition might worsen. Didn't they have a right to know? Wasn't it a lie not to tell them? But then she remembered Puddifant's advice and their oath. Anger blazed. “He knew,” she muttered.

“Ian!” she cried suddenly.

“What?” Mrs. Epp asked, pulling out of the lane onto Quebec Street.

“We have to get Ian, Mum. He's Josh's friend, too.”

Mrs. Epp frowned. She couldn't keep her disapproval from showing, even now. “Do you know where he lives?” she said crossly.

Millie nodded. “The other side of Broadway,” she directed.

“Just a few blocks down.”

A lot can change in a few blocks. They both knew how the character of the neighbourhood deteriorated in that direction. It was downhill in more ways than one. Picturing Ian's rundown house, with his dad's jalopy parked in the front yard, Millie cringed. Her mother would not be impressed. Millie couldn't help it, though. If her mother would only give Ian a chance, she'd know what a great guy he really was. A few weeks earlier Millie couldn't have imagined having a friend like Ian; now she couldn't imagine not having him as a friend . . . and ally.

Mrs. Epp looked grim, pulling up to the Lytle's. “It's not him, it's his house,” Millie reminded. She jumped out of the car before her mother could reply, hurrying up the cracked pathway and crooked steps. It was still very early. “He won't be up,” she thought, but rapped sharply at the front door anyway. Just in case. No answer. Millie pushed the doorbell, and the house issued a rasping squawk, as if it had been poked in the ribs. Still, there was no answer.

She didn't know what to do. Should she give up? Try the door to see if it was unlocked? Millie was still trying to make up her mind, when a clatter from inside told her someone was charging down the stairs. There was a fumbling behind at the lock then the door jerked open.

“Millie!” Ian cried, obviously pleased to see her.

“I didn't think you'd be awake.”

“I couldn't sleep at all,” he complained. “I kept thinking about Josh. He looked pretty bad last night.”

“He's in hospital, Ian,” Millie told him. “He parents took him in last night. My mom's taking me to see him. Do you want to come?” The words tumbled out of her and tears sprang into Millie's eyes. She realized how desperate she'd been to tell him, and how much she needed him with her. “I'm scared Ian. I'm so scared.”

For a second Ian hesitated then he hugged her. “I'm scared too,” he consoled. “But it's going to be all right. Puddifant said so.”

“But why didn't he tell us?” she protested. “He must have known this was going to happen.”

Ian stepped back and shrugged. “Sometimes it's best not to tell people everything you're thinking, Mil . . . not even your friends.” He watched to see her reaction. Millie stifled her objections. “The Inspector is doing everything he can to save Josh, we know that,” he added, pulling the door shut behind him.

“But he's not letting us do everything we can,” she fumed as they headed for the car.

47

The comet that was Vortigen's entourage skimmed the surface of a long, glittering lake between the granite walls of a steep valley. They had slowed to subsonic speed and were spiraling up, the minions moving into tighter formation.

“Home to Syde!” Vortigen yelled suddenly.

“Home!” the squadron echoed.

Then they dove straight at the sheer granite face on the eastern side of the lake, the swarm stringing out into single file.

Josh thought surely they would veer away. When it became apparent that Vortigen intended to fly smack into the wall, Josh screamed, “Yaaaa!”

A few nearby minions snickered. Josh was inhaling for another shout when, whoosh, they passed through the granite as if it were fog.

They had entered a twisting tunnel lit by torches, which ignited spontaneously as Vortigen approached.

“All for my benefit,” Josh guessed, for he was certain Vortigen and the minions could fly as accurately as bats without the aid of light.

Right, left, up, down. He couldn't tell which direction they were moving. In general he sensed they were plunging deeper into the earth like a runaway train down a mineshaft. Behind him the minions were shouting and singing, obviously enjoying the ride.

“These are no slaves,” Vortigen murmured, his words formulated as thoughts in Josh's brain. “They serve willingly. Joyously.”

Josh could not deny it. These spirits revelled under his iron rule.

“They have found a place here that they never had in their earthly existence. Some have served for centuries. I have known each of them by name from the moment they pledged allegiance to me and the greater cause.”

“And what of those who won't make that pledge?”

“They have no names in Syde, for I do not know them.”

“But everyone has a name,” Josh protested.

“Their names and all the words they utter are vibrations outside the realm of meaning. Their tongues are leaves rattling in the wind.”

“Because they were taken against their will, then refused allegiance to your ‘greater purpose'?”

“Human will is a puny thing, if it is separated from a greater purpose,” Vortigen answered disdainfully. “Your former dimension is crowded with strutting egos, who mistake personal accomplishments for history. Here, no such pride is permitted. Even I — the ruler of Syde — am utterly bound by Ancient Law. I am a minion, too.”

“A minion and a lord?”

“Aye.”

They entered a long straight shaft plummeting down, down. Jagged granite gave way to polished marble and the primitive torches to softly glowing rings. Far, far away, at an almost incomprehensible distance, the tunnel admitted light from another world.

“Hail Vortigen, Lord of Syde, Keeper of the Ancient Law.

Hail Vortigen!” the minions chanted, their voices merged in a collective shout that echoed down the passageway.

“Hail Vortigen,” came the responding shout.

At last the column burst into the white light at the end of the tunnel. Josh gasped as they pulled out of their steep dive and circled round the perimeter of an immense dome which reverberated to the joyous cries of the minions.

Far below, Syde stretched to the horizon in every direction.

The light mystified Josh. It did not beam down like sunlight; rather the very air seemed to glow so there were no shadows in the land.

“Tilth,” Vortigen pointed to the rolling countryside to their right. It seemed pleasant enough — green fields and pastures dotted with cottages and barns. “Fruit, vegetables, and spices grow there, the likes of which have never been tasted on earth.

All for the sheer delight of Syde's citizens.”

“The Habitations,” he said pointing straight ahead. “Those who prefer commerce and bustle find their places there.” The city crowded up the side of a hill, its ancient buildings jostling for space along narrow, winding streets.

“The Highland of Ormor,” Vortigen nodded toward a glowing fortress in the distance, “and that is the Emerald Palace — your home — if you choose aright.” The magnificent castle reared up in tier after tier of polished, green marble. Around it parkland and formal gardens spread out in all directions right up to the escarpment that overlooked the rest of Syde.

“The Plain of Ardu,” Vortigen now pointed to their left. This was a dessert region, pocked with what looked like mine heads and factories. It seemed a hot, inhospitable terrain.

“The Gallian Forest.” Vortigen directed his proud glance down, almost right below them. Forests of oak, maple, and fir crowded the land between Tilth and a large lake, which Vortigen informed him was the Underground Sea. A river named the Serpentine wound through Tilth and the Gallian Forest.

Far out over the roiling waters of the Underground Sea, Syde dissolved into impenetrable gloom. Barely visible, a hump of rock was anchored to the horizon where the particles of light failed. “Desolation Isle,” Vortigen said grimly.

“But let's not dwell on that,” he continued breezily. “You shall find delights enough to amuse you right here even if you do not choose to use your powers to travel. Paintings, food, educated debate, poetry . . . your new realm brims with culture and delights. We have brought to Syde the best the universe has to offer, and the best of the best is reserved for the Emerald Palace.

“You are a privileged young man, Josh Dempster,” Vortigen joked. “You shall have to get used to living like a prince, an arduous duty to be sure.”

“I don't want to be a prince!” Josh shouted.

“No, no. Of course not,” Vortigen replied solicitously. “Perhaps you are still not acclimatized after our rapid descent. Maybe once you've sampled some refreshments you will feel differently. Come, my stubborn companion, let's get home to the Emerald Palace.”

Josh followed reluctantly. He did not trust himself. There were too many interesting things in Syde, things he had not expected. As they floated down toward the Highland of Ormor he vowed not to enjoy any of its delights. “I'll starve myself if I have to,” Josh grimaced.

47

T
he comet that was Vortigen's entourage skimmed the surface of a long, glittering lake between the granite walls of a steep valley. They had slowed to subsonic speed and were spiraling up, the minions moving into tighter formation.

“Home to Syde!” Vortigen yelled suddenly.

“Home!” the squadron echoed.

Then they dove straight at the sheer granite face on the eastern side of the lake, the swarm stringing out into single file. Josh thought surely they would veer away. When it became apparent that Vortigen intended to fly smack into the wall, Josh screamed, “Yaaaa!”

A few nearby minions snickered. Josh was inhaling for another shout when, whoosh, they passed through the granite as if it were fog.

They had entered a twisting tunnel lit by torches, which ignited spontaneously as Vortigen approached.

“All for my benefit,” Josh guessed, for he was certain Vortigen and the minions could fly as accurately as bats without the aid of light.

Right, left, up, down. He couldn't tell which direction they were moving. In general he sensed they were plunging deeper into the earth like a runaway train down a mineshaft. Behind him the minions were shouting and singing, obviously enjoying the ride.

“These are no slaves,” Vortigen murmured, his words formulated as thoughts in Josh's brain. “They serve willingly. Joyously.”

Josh could not deny it. These spirits revelled under his iron rule.

“They have found a place here that they never had in their earthly existence. Some have served for centuries. I have known each of them by name from the moment they pledged allegiance to me and the greater cause.”

“And what of those who won't make that pledge?”

“They have no names in Syde, for I do not know them.”

“But everyone has a name,” Josh protested.

“Their names and all the words they utter are vibrations outside the realm of meaning. Their tongues are leaves rattling in the wind.”

“Because they were taken against their will, then refused allegiance to your ‘greater purpose'?”

“Human will is a puny thing, if it is separated from a greater purpose,” Vortigen answered disdainfully. “Your former dimension is crowded with strutting egos, who mistake personal accomplishments for history. Here, no such pride is permitted. Even I — the ruler of Syde — am utterly bound by Ancient Law. I am a minion, too.”

“A minion and a lord?”

“Aye.”

They entered a long straight shaft plummeting down, down. Jagged granite gave way to polished marble and the primitive torches to softly glowing rings. Far, far away, at an almost incomprehensible distance, the tunnel admitted light from another world.

“Hail Vortigen, Lord of Syde, Keeper of the Ancient Law. Hail Vortigen!” the minions chanted, their voices merged in a collective shout that echoed down the passageway.

“Hail Vortigen,” came the responding shout.

At last the column burst into the white light at the end of the tunnel. Josh gasped as they pulled out of their steep dive and circled round the perimeter of an immense dome which reverberated to the joyous cries of the minions.

Far below, Syde stretched to the horizon in every direction. The light mystified Josh. It did not beam down like sunlight; rather the very air seemed to glow so there were no shadows in the land.