SandRider (25 page)

Ephaniah's face showed human emotions as much as any not mixed with rat. It wore a puzzled look. He was about to scrawl a few lines asking why the Queen was going to all the trouble of bringing Oskar to work, when the sound of running footsteps coming along the passageway made them all look around. Colin Partridge appeared, flustered. He flashed a quick smile to Romilly and then said, “Queen Jenna is in the front office, Chief. She wants to speak to the ExtraOrdinary Wizard. At once.”

Up in the front office, Jenna waited anxiously. As the door opened and Septimus and Beetle hurried out, she took a deep breath.

“Septimus,” she said. “Tod is gone.”

“Gone?” Septimus asked, puzzled. “Gone where?”

“I've no idea, Sep. I saw her at breakfast in Galen's treehouse, and then she vanished, along with her two friends. You know, those PathFinder kids. She left this.” Jenna
handed Septimus Tod's note.

Septimus read it, frowning. “What does she mean,
we are fine
? They will most certainly
not
be fine on their own in the Forest. Those witches will get them for sure.”

Jenna put her hand on Septimus's arm. “No, Sep. I happen to know that the Wendrons don't have Tod. Or Oskar and Ferdie. Oh—and just to make everything really great, Jim Knee's gone too. He ran off when we were searching and
he's
not come back either.”

Septimus looked flabbergasted. “I don't believe it,” he said. “I just don't.” He sat down on a pile of books, which wobbled dangerously. “My Apprentice, run off in the Forest. My jinnee's gone goodness knows where yet
again
, and every second that wretched Egg is getting nearer to hatching. It's a nightmare.”

Jenna looked distraught. “I'm so sorry, Sep. We searched everywhere. I . . . I don't know what to say. All I could think of doing was coming back to tell you myself.”

“Thanks, Jen. I appreciate that,” Septimus said.

The Queen, the Chief Hermetic Scribe and the ExtraOrdinary Wizard looked at one another, each remembering times when they were younger and had been in the
middle of all kinds of troubles. Then all things had seemed possible, but now that they were older, nothing seemed possible. They weren't sure if they liked being older very much.

Jenna spoke first. “We have to prioritize,” she said.

Septimus and Beetle looked at her expectantly.

Jenna took a deep breath. She wasn't sure how they were going to take this. “Castle first. Apprentice second. Jinnee third.”

There was a silence, and then Septimus spoke. “You're right,” he said. “But I'm still sending out as many Wizards into the Forest as I possibly can. And as soon as I've done that, I am
Going Through
the Manuscriptorium Way and following Kaznim Na-Draa.”

“And I am coming with you,” Beetle said.

Jenna longed to say the same but she knew she could not. With the ExtraOrdinary Wizard and the Chief Hermetic Scribe gone from the Castle, it was her job to stay behind.
Sometimes,
Jenna thought,
being Queen is not a lot of fun.

Septimus smiled at Beetle. “Thanks,” he said. “I really hoped you'd say that.”

PART X

T
WENTY
-O
NE
H
OURS TO
H
ATCHING

T
od walked into the blazing
heat of the sun. She breathed in the hot, dry air—shocking after the chill damp of the Forest—and watched Kaznim, Ferdie and Oskar emerge, blinking, into the light. Buoyed by the familiar smells of hot sand and spices, Kaznim laughed. “Welcome to the Red City!” she said.

Tod, Oskar and Ferdie shrugged off their wolverine cloaks like sloughed skins and took stock. They were in a deserted courtyard, surrounded by high red walls made of smooth mud. The only sound was a faint trickling of water from a little culvert that ran alongside the wall to their left. Above them the backs of tall houses—a patchwork of pinky-red—reared up, the expanse broken only by a few tiny windows covered with metal grills. The sun was almost directly overhead and
the place hummed with heat, the walls surrounding them like those of a kiln. Beside them rose a tall, thin palm tree, its long trunk reaching up to the sky, with a few ragged leaves at the top. It cast little shadow, but what there was had a strange shifting quality to it—this was the entrance to the Forest Way.

“Phew,” Oskar said, wiping his forehead. Both he and Ferdie felt the heat far more than Tod.

“It is cooler outside,” Kaznim said, heading off toward a door set deep in the thick wall. The polished wood was completely smooth, with only a tiny keyhole giving a clue as to how to open it. Kaznim turned around, her face a picture of dismay. “I don't have the key,” she whispered.

“Oh, Oskie will fix that,” Ferdie said confidently.

Oskar was not so sure. One look at the tiny keyhole told him it was going to be trouble. He was right. For ten long minutes Oskar worked methodically through the layers of the weirdest lock mechanism he had ever encountered. At last Oskar heard the delicate
tic-ick
of the final cog clicking into place, and the door into the Red City swung open.

They headed out into the cool shadows of an alley. Ferdie took a tiny green felt dragon on a purple ribbon from her
pocket and placed it carefully on the ground. “So we know it's this door,” she said. Then, turning to Kaznim, she asked, “So now where?”

“We have to go to Beggars' Gate,” Kaznim said in a half whisper. “It's the best way to get to the road that goes to my tent.”

“A road all the way to your tent?” Oskar said. “Wow, that's great. Easy-peasy.”

“Peasy?” asked Kaznim.

“It's just Oskie's silly talk,” Ferdie said. “He means it's going to be really easy to get to your tent, as the road goes straight there.”

Kaznim looked a little embarrassed. “Well, it doesn't quite reach my tent,” she said. “But it's fine because at the end of the road you can see it. Well, usually. As long as there isn't too much haze. Or wind blowing the sand.”

“Ah,” Oskar murmured.

“And we need to hurry, as it's a long way and it's not good to be in the desert at night. Because of the sand lions,” Kaznim added.

Oskar mentally downgraded the journey from Easy-Peasy to—in Manuscriptorium scribe-speak—a Ton of Trouble.

“Okeydokey,” Tod said in a determinedly cheerful manner. “You lead the way to Beggars' Gate. We're right behind you.”

Kaznim set off along the alleyway. It was bounded by tall walls made from red mud decorated with sparkling pieces of glass and mosaic. The alley wound like a snake between walled gardens, past locked doors and tiny windows set high in walls. A few thin, dusty trees rose up from the gardens and from some came the trickling sound of water, which made them feel thirsty in the dry heat. Smaller walkways branched off, winding away into deeper shadows and canyons of impossibly narrow spaces between houses. Kaznim ignored these and carried on, heading along the main alley, glancing from side to side as if searching for something.

They followed Kaznim—who, Tod thought, had an uncertain look about her—and now found themselves walking beneath bright red paper streamers looped across the alley and wound around tall posts upon which lamps were precariously balanced. Behind them now they heard the muffled sound of drumming and rhythmic chanting echoing off the walls and surrounding them with noise.

The air was stifling and stuffy, and Tod, Oskar and Ferdie felt increasingly uncomfortable in their heavy woolen winter
robes. Tod noticed that Ferdie's and Oskar's faces were almost as red as their hair, and she could feel the dampness of her own dark hair as it stuck to the back of her neck. But in front of them, Kaznim moved like a stream of cool water, her faded red coat flowing as she glided silently over the red sandy ground.

As they rounded yet another bend they heard a strange new sound—high-pitched, tinny piping—not far ahead. Kaznim, Tod noticed, had slowed down and looked uncertain. Ahead of them was a tall gatehouse, its pillars straddling the alley. Kaznim walked uncertainly into the shadows beneath and stopped dead. “Oh!” she said.

Beyond the gatehouse was a vast square festooned with red banners. It was almost empty but it was clear that a big event was going to take place soon. The tinny piping came from four soldiers in silver chain mail and long red cloaks. They stood at the corners of a central platform, which was covered in gleaming gold cloth and protected from the sun by a red-and-gold-striped awning. Four tall poles, each with a golden crown perched upon the top, rose up from each corner, and like ribbons from a maypole, bands of paper—from palest pink to deepest blood red—streamed out to other,
smaller poles planted around the square so that a great network of red cast stripes of shadow across the ground. Kaznim stared at the scene before them, her hands over her mouth in dismay.

“What's the matter?” Tod asked anxiously.

“This isn't where we want to be. It
really
isn't.”

“Have we gone the wrong way?” Oskar asked.

There was a note of panic in Kaznim's reply. “I must have missed a turning. It was all that drumming. I couldn't think.”

Tod was beginning to wonder if they had made the right decision to trust Kaznim. But she was determined to appear calm. “That's okay,” she said. “We can retrace our steps.”

“The turning is by an old lamp with a snake wound around it.”

“You should have told us what you were looking for,” Ferdie said sharply. “We went past that ages ago. It was the first one covered in red paper.”

“We must go back. This is the Queen's Square. It's dangerous. We must not be here,” Kaznim whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

The Tribe of Three exchanged anxious glances. This was not looking good.

Tod, Ferdie and Oskar followed Kaznim as she fled back down the alley. Ahead of them the sound of drumming was growing ever louder and as they hurtled around yet another corner, they came skidding to a halt. They were face-to-face with the drummers.

Both groups stopped dead. Tod, Ferdie and Oskar found themselves confronting a frightening group of about twenty teens in long cotton robes, all in different shades of red. The
tarra-taa tarra-taa
of the drumming subsided to an ominous
derummmma . . . derummmma . . .
as the drummers marked time, expecting Tod, Oskar, Ferdie and Kaznim to get out of the way. Fast. The front three drummers—two girls and a boy—looked wild. Their dark hair, which shone with grease, was gathered into a tall topknot with a spike driven through it. Their skin was caked in white dust and their eyes were lined with kohl, making them look as though they had been dead for some days. The wide pupils of their eyes stared at Tod, Oskar and Ferdie as though they were nothing more
than insects upon the ground, while their drums continued their impatient
derummmma . . . derummmma . . .

And then Kaznim was gone. Like a snake slipping into its burrow, she wriggled through a gap between two of the drummers and disappeared. Tod, Oskar and Ferdie went to follow but the drummers closed ranks. Kaznim was one of their own; they would give way to her, but not to strangers—strangers gave way to
them
.

The beat continued and the drummers pushed forward. The Tribe of Three had no choice but to step back. And with every step they took backward, the drummers took a deliberate step forward:
derummmma-drum
—step,
derummmma
-drum
—step. Like the sea nudging driftwood onto the shore, the tide of drummers pushed them remorselessly along the alley and swept them into the square.

The square had filled with people. From each corner through an identical gateway, a team of drummers was emerging—all dressed in red and marking the same beat.
derummmma-drum . . . derummmma-drum . . .

A crowd had gathered around the central platform leaving aisles clear for various processions. As they were being marshaled into position by officials, someone yelled out: “Spies!
Spies!” The cry was taken up and in seconds Tod, Oskar and Ferdie were surrounded by a group of hooded guards armed with short, broad swords. The guards herded them along the open space at the back of the crowd while the drums rolled to a crescendo. Suddenly the crowd erupted into frenzied shouts and the guards stepped up the pace, forcing their prisoners into a run at sword point. They were heading for a barred gate set into the wall and it seemed to Tod that the guards were desperate to get them there before whatever the crowd was waiting for began. As the gate drew closer Tod grew increasingly certain that once they were inside, there was going to be no way out. She
had
to do something. With no time to think, Tod threw herself to the ground as if in a faint and felt first Ferdie, then Oskar trip over her. She heard the guard commander bark an order and became aware of a sudden silence descending on the crowd. In the distance came a fanfare and Tod risked opening one eye. She had stupidly managed to fall over at the end of an aisle. She had a clear view to the platform, and those on the platform had a clear view of her.

Staring straight at them was the Red Queen. And beside her stood a familiar figure: the sorcerer Oraton-Marr.

A low, tense drumming began. The rhythm was that of an anxious heartbeat: two beats per second. Roughly, the guards pulled Tod, Oskar and Ferdie to their feet, then stood at attention. Tod noticed that the hands of the guard next to her were shaking. She was not surprised—the Queen was terrifying. A tall, imposing woman with long white hair held back by a simple gold crown, she put Tod in mind of a much older Jenna, but even from a distance Tod could see that there was none of Jenna's humanity about this Queen. She was flanked on either side by two masked figures holding axes and in her hand she expertly held a long sword, the flat of its blade stained with the rust of blood but its cutting edge shining bright silver, thin and razor-sharp from the Queen's expert honing that morning. As the Queen's gaze ranged slowly over the Tribe of Three and they saw her adjust her grip on the sword, a stab of fear ran through them—the Queen was sizing them up with the expert eye of someone who knew the power of her blade—and wanted to use it.

The Queen's axmen shouted an order and the drumming ceased. At each entrance on the corners of the square, just behind the assembled drummers, a great sheet of metal slid slowly down from each gatehouse tower and barred the exits. The silence in the square became tense with fear. No one knew the reason for the square being sealed and many now feared for their own lives. The Queen raised her sword and pointed at the three captives. All the faces in the crowd turned to stare.

“Sheesh,” Oskar whispered. “This is scary.”

On the dais, Oraton-Marr leaned over and said something to the Queen. She rewarded him with a frosty stare that would have turned anyone else into a shaking jelly of fear. Oraton-Marr, however, did not notice. He was buoyed by the excitement of the imminent hatching of his Orm Egg and the heady prospect of power. The unexpected sight of the Apprentice being brought to him confirmed to Oraton-Marr that all was going his way. “The one in green is promised to me,” he told the Queen. “You can do as you wish with the other two.”

The Queen tapped her foot in annoyance. She was honoring Oraton-Marr with a place on the Royal Block and a
front-row seat at the morning's executions and now he had the cheek to claim one of her captives. Did he not realize that this was
her
square and all who stepped into it gave themselves over to her? She glared at Oraton-Marr but restrained herself from doing more. She remembered that he had offered her the Queenship of a powerful Castle and thought it wise to humor him—for now. The Queen snapped her fingers at the captain of the guard at the foot of the Royal Block and said, “Bring the child strangers to me. Now!”

The captain saluted, turned on his heel and marched down the aisle toward Tod, Oskar and Ferdie. He had yet to reach them when he heard the thunder of tumbling masonry, and a gasp from the crowd. The captain risked a quick glance and it was only his rigorous training that stopped him from breaking his pace in shock. A monstrous, thirty-feet-tall figure was smashing down the barricade on the southeast gatehouse.

The figure glowed a brilliant yellow like the sun. It was broad as a house, as tall as a tower, with wild hair of gold surrounding a fine pair of horns, its eyes burning with orange fire. In one massive hand it held a chunk of the gatehouse, in the other a sword ten feet long. The ground shook with a deep rumble as the monstrous giant swept away the last remnants
of the gatehouse and stepped into the square. A wild scream spread through the crowd and a stampede began, but the captain pushed on through, desperate to obey his order.

But as he lunged to grab Tod, Oskar and Ferdie, a giant yellow finger flicked him aside. As the colonel flew backward all he could think of was the fate that surely now awaited him. He had failed in his task to bring the captives to the Queen. For which he would pay.