PathFinder (19 page)

“Marcia!” gasped Milo.

Marcia looked down at the Garmin, leaking thick, black fluid across the white flagstones of the Hub. “Is it dead?” she asked.

Milo poked the creature with his foot. “Yes.”

“Good,” said Marcia. “Come on, Dandra. Quickly now.”

Dandra gave Milo a strained smile as, bemused, he stepped back to let them pass. It took Milo a few seconds to recover his wits, and then he yelled up, “Marcia! What’s going
on
?”

“No time! Explain later!” Marcia called back.

From the foot of the stairs, Milo watched his wife of one year to the day disappear around the first spiral. He shook his head in bemusement. He had hoped that life here would be more simple, but he now realised how silly that had been. Marcia didn’t do simple.

Cocoon

The silver cocoon lay on
the rug in front of the impressive fireplace in the Great Chamber. Thanks to Milo the flames were roaring up into the tall stone chimneypiece, sending out the heat that Marcia wanted.

“I can’t believe
there is a human being in there,” Milo said, sombrely gazing at the cocoon. “It looks so tiny.”

“It has been
Compressed
,” said Marcia. “A
Darke
art, showing no respect for human life whatsoever. You’d be ­surprised how small the human body can become.”

“And still live?” asked Dandra anxiously.

“For a while.” Marcia was running her hands over the cocoon, trying to find a way in through the tough membrane, which felt as unyielding and strong as steel. “Milo, would you lend me your silver knife, please?”

Milo took out a small knife folded into its ebony handle and handed it to Marcia. She opened it and breathed on the blade, muttering,
“Unbind the thing that binds, unwind the thing that winds
.
”
Then she pushed the tip of the blade – like all Milo’s knives, razor-sharp – in between what she judged to be a join in the membrane. To her relief, she was right. Marcia plunged her hand in and felt the body of a small human beneath. “Milo, Dandra. Take hold of this horrid stuff. Pull it away before it sticks back together again.”

Milo and Dandra both took hold of the unpleasantly sticky substance and pulled. It resisted but neither was going to be defeated. They tugged at the membrane so it stretched out like a long, transparent piece of silk. Marcia began frantically sawing at it with the blade. Suddenly, it was cut and like a spring released from tension, the cocoon fell apart.

Inside was the folded-up form of a girl, legs and arms crossed like, thought Marcia, a dressed goose ready for dinner.

“Good Lord,” said Milo.

“Oh,
Alice
!” gasped Dandra.

Milo had never seen Marcia “at work”, as he called it. He watched in awe as Marcia lifted Tod’s head, which was limp and heavy, and gently moved her damp, matted hair away from her bluish-white face. He saw Marcia take a deep breath in, and in, and in, until it seemed impossible that she could breathe in any more without bursting. He saw her lean over the girl’s face and begin to breathe out in a slow, steady stream, her warm,
Magykal
breath a soft, pale pink against the night air.

As Marcia was breathing out, Milo realised that he was doing the same. But Milo ran out of breath long before Marcia did. On and on, the long, thin stream of pinkish air curled out from her mouth and settled over Tod’s pale, damp features. And just as Milo was convinced that Marcia could breathe out not a moment longer, he saw Tod’s eyelids flicker and then suddenly, her dark grey eyes were wide open, staring straight at him.

“You’re safe. Sleep now,” Marcia murmured.

“Oh. Oh, thank goodness,” Dandra whispered.

Tod took in a long, deep, shuddering breath; the air tasted sweet and smoky and felt wonderfully warm. The coldness of the reptilian slime had chilled her to the bone and now the heat set her shivering. She wanted to ask where she was, what had happened, but her teeth were chattering uncontrollably. Someone put a blanket around her shoulders and Tod pulled it tighter. She felt as though she would never be warm again.

“Alice … oh,
Alice
.” Someone else put her arms around her and Tod found herself being gently laid down on soft cushions and blankets. Slowly, she began to feel more human. She looked up and saw three worried, pale faces smiling down at her and she savoured the presence of humans – their body warmth, the expressiveness of their faces. Someone placed another blanket over her and Tod closed her eyes, knowing that she was safe.

Dandra got shakily to her feet. “She’s sleeping now,” she whispered, gazing down at Tod, who looked very small and thin beneath the blankets. Dandra hugged Marcia. “Thank you, oh, thank you,” she said. “But I must go. I have a patient in Sick Bay, dying, I think. And I’ve left the Apprentice on his own. Oh, I don’t want to go, but I must.”

“Dandra, it’s all right,” Marcia said. “We will look after your Alice. We’ll stand guard all night, don’t you worry.” She stood back and looked at her friend. “You could do with some rest yourself. Goodness, what have you done to your hand?” Blood was dripping off Dandra Draa’s knuckles.

Dandra looked at her hand in surprise. “I must have hurt it when I punched that Garmin on the nose.”

“You hit a Garmin?” Marcia was amazed.

“Well, I had to get Alice away from it somehow. Couldn’t think what else to do, really.”

“Oh, Dandra, you are amazing,” said Marcia. She put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Milo will watch over Tod,” she said. “I’ll see you home.”

“Don’t be long,” said Milo.

Down in the Hub, at the foot of the stairs, Dandra and Marcia stepped over the dead Garmin lying folded like a squashed spider in a pool of ink. They both shuddered. “Milo will clear it up in the morning,” Marcia said briskly.

Before she left the Hub, Marcia placed a
Seal
on every Way except for VII. And when she returned from taking Dandra back to the Wizard Tower, she
Sealed
Way VII, too.

Upstairs in the Great Chamber, in the red glow cast by the fire, Marcia found Milo waiting beside the sleeping figure of Tod.

“How is she?” Marcia whispered.

“Fine,” said Milo. “Sleeping soundly.”

“I’ll watch her all night,” said Marcia. “Just to make sure.”

“All night?”
asked Milo, dismayed. “But, Marcia, I came back especially.”

Marcia reached out and touched Milo’s hand. “I am so pleased you did. I was sure you hadn’t made it. The mist came in so fast.”

“I left
Cerys
on the seaward quay and rowed up,” said Milo. “Followed the mist as it rolled in. I had to be here.”

Marcia smiled happily. “Well, we can spend the night here by the fire. I’ll ask Lucius to do us some supper.”

Milo looked downcast. Cooking was not one of a Drummin’s finest skills. “You’ve still not got a cook, then?”

“I don’t want my Keep cluttered up with people – especially people who cook. They are nothing but trouble,” Marcia said. “Anyway, Lucius is getting much better. He’s very good at omelettes. And gooseberry bake.”

“Omelette and gooseberry bake it is, then,” said Milo stoutly. “I’ll go and tell him, shall I?” He got to his feet.

It was only later, when Milo went down to the Fire Pit to pick up the supper, that he realised he had not made himself clear. In one large dish sat an omelette wrapped around a pile of gooseberries covered with cheesy breadcrumbs. “It’s a good thing I also brought some Trading Post chocolates,” said Milo, handing Marcia a large, velvet-covered box tied with a big gold ribbon. “Happy anniversary.”

Grula-Grula

The next morning, Tod
felt very nearly human again. She wanted to go back to the Wizard Tower, but Marcia felt Tod’s forehead and frowned.

“You are still somewhat cold, Alice,” she said. “You need to get warm all the way through. Come and sit in the sun, there is nothing better for getting rid of the lingering chill of
Darkenesse
.”

And so Tod spent the morning sitting in Marcia’s window alcove, soaking up the sun and watching Milo’s ship, the
Cerys
, come in on the high tide. In her hand she held a beautiful silver whistle covered in
Magykal
symbols, which Marcia had given her.

“The Hub is secure and the Drummins will take good care of you,” Marcia had said, “but even so, I’d like you to have this. If you need help, just blow. I’ll hear.”

“But how?” Tod asked. “Aren’t you going to the Wizard Tower?”

Marcia held up a twin of the whistle, which she was wearing around her neck. “It’s a nice simple way of using
Magyk
,” she explained. “You blow your whistle and this one sounds. We’ll do a test. I’ll go over here and then you whistle.” Marcia strode across the room to the stairs. “OK?”

Tod blew her whistle. No sound came out, but Marcia’s whistle sounded, thin and sweet on the other side of the room. Marcia smiled. “I won’t be long.” And with that, she was gone.

Tod listened to the
tippy-tappy
sounds of the purple python shoes disappearing. She leaned back in the sun, the silver whistle warm in her hand, contentedly watching the activity that always accompanies a boat returning to her home port.

Marcia
UnSealed
Way VII and headed off to the Wizard Tower to speak to Septimus. But she arrived too late. He was already gone. Finding Dandra still occupied in the Sick Bay, Marcia settled down in the Great Hall to await Septimus’s return.

Septimus was at Bott’s Cloaks with Beetle, Chief Hermetic Scribe and unsuccessful remover of Grula-Grulas. It was Beetle’s second day at Bott’s Cloaks but this time he had with him an unusual display of force: the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, accompanied by his twin brothers, Senior Apprentices Edd and Erik Heap.

They were met by Miranda Bott – a large, irritable woman who had recently inherited the shop. Although Miranda dutifully continued the family business of selling
Magykal
cloaks (both
preloved
and
soon-to-be cherished
) she was not very welcoming towards Wizards.

The previous day with Beetle had not been a success – the Grula-Grula had thrown a spectacular temper tantrum and had ruined the last of Miranda’s precious ancient cloaks. Finally, with her business in tatters and the stink of old cheese filling the shop, Miranda had agreed to allow the Wizard Tower to be involved. “I’m not having any old Wizard, mind,” she had told Beetle. “You can bring the ExtraOrdinary or forget it.”

Miranda sniffed disdainfully at the sight of the ExtraOrdinary Wizard in his impressive purple accompanied by what she took to be two bodyguards. Edd and Erik Heap were powerfully built and had a wild air about them, gained from years of living in the Forest. Miranda wasn’t keen. “You can leave
them
outside,” she said.

There was no way Septimus was going to leave Edd and Erik outside, but since becoming ExtraOrdinary Wizard he had learned a lot about the art of diplomacy. “Miss Bott,” he said, “I would
so
much like you to meet my brothers Edd and Erik Heap.”

“How do you do, Miss Bott,” Edd and Erik murmured politely.

“Humph,” harrumphed Miranda.

“And of course, you have already met the Chief Hermetic Scribe, Mr Beetle.”

Miranda Bott was not to be mollified. “Of course I’ve bloomin’ met him. He practically moved in here yesterday. Fat lot of good he was too. I hope you are going to do better, ExtraOrdinary.”

“We work as a team,” Septimus said smoothly. “The Chief Hermetic Scribe performed stage one of the removal yesterday and all went as planned.”

Beetle quickly mastered his look of surprise. Sometimes the new, ExtraOrdinary Wizard Septimus took him aback. His old friend had turned out to be a natural politician.

Miranda Bott was less impressed. “Rubbish!” she declared.

“So now, Miss Bott,” Septimus was saying, “in stage two we
all
need to attend to your uninvited guest. And I promise we shall do our very best.”

The sincere expression in Septimus’s clear green eyes and his calm manner began to soothe Miranda Bott’s frazzled temper. So she smiled and said, “Thank you, ExtraOrdinary, I do believe you
will
do your best. Please come in.”

The Grula-Grula removal party stepped inside and Miranda bolted the door behind them. The smell was atrocious. Even Erik and Edd, who were used to Forest smells, wrinkled their noses in disgust.

“It’s the most revolting creature I’ve ever set eyes on,” Miranda declared. “Its personal hygiene is non-existent. Follow me, please.” She set off through the shop, past tables sporting piles of neatly folded cloaks of various shades of blue and green. The increasingly queasy group followed Miranda through a succession of interconnecting rooms full of the more expensive cloaks – a forest of green, blue and the very occasional purple hanging neatly on rails suspended from the ceiling.