The Serpents of Arakesh (13 page)

When eventually their flood of questions died down to a trickle, I could see they all felt reassured, and in the end even Jamie amazed us by announcing his intention to join us on our quest the following day.

Now it was evening, and while Nanny sorted out the other kids with costumes for the morning, Q and I were on our way up to see Hannah. She'd asked for me, Q said: ‘But you must be prepared to find her very changed. You mustn't stay long. She's more tired than she admits.'

Hannah was in her bedroom, propped up in a huge four-poster bed that made her look tiny and fragile. A tube trailed like a transparent worm from under her pyjamas to a bag of fluid dangling from a metal stand beside the bed. Her face was very white, and I could see the shape of her bones through her translucent skin. Looking at her, I could easily believe she might die.

Her head was completely bald. Q had tried to prepare me. ‘She likes to dress up and pretend. In her imagination she's a little princess, and princesses aren't bald, so she usually wears a wig. But at the moment she doesn't have the energy for pretence. Tonight you will be seeing Hannah as she really is.'

She hadn't heard us come in. She was lying back on her ruffled pillows with her eyes closed, a battered, one-eyed teddy tucked in beside her. Under the covers on the other side snuggled Tiger Lily, purring softly, her chin resting on Hannah's arm.

Q touched Hannah's cheek gently, and without opening her eyes she lifted her free hand, groped for his, and held it.

‘You have a visitor, Chatterbot,' he told her quietly.

Hannah's eyes flickered open. She saw me and smiled, a pale shadow of her usual cheeky grin. ‘Hi, Adam,' she breathed. There was a chair beside the bed. I perched on the edge of it.

‘Hi,' I said.

‘Q says you went to Karazan. Is it true?'

‘Yeah, it was awesome. You'd love it. Everything is much more real, more … bright. It's like you're seeing the world for the very first time. Even the smells, the sounds, are clearer. It's almost impossible to imagine, unless you've actually been there.'

She closed her eyes, and sighed softly. For a moment I wondered whether she'd slipped off to sleep, but she opened her eyes and smiled at me, and this time the smile was more like the Hannah I knew. ‘No,' she whispered, ‘I can
exactly
imagine it.'

‘Are you … OK?' I asked.

‘Yup,' she told me, and the bravery of the lie brought tears to my eyes. She rolled her eyes, and pulled a little face. ‘Just
look
at me.'

‘Real fairy princesses happen on the inside,' I told her. ‘The hair isn't the important part.'

She thought about that for a moment. ‘Adam?'

‘Yeah?'

‘When you go back to Karazan … be careful. Come back safe. Promise?'

I wondered how much she really knew — about why we were going, and everything that hinged on it. I wanted to promise to come back. I wanted to promise that I'd find the healing potion and save her.

But the courage in her eyes challenged me to be honest. Hannah trusted me, and I knew I should only make a promise I was one-hundred percent certain I'd be able to keep.

‘I'll be as careful as I can,' I told her. ‘I promise.'

I was so exhausted when I fell into bed I was sure I'd sleep the whole night without so much as twitching, never mind dreaming.

But I was wrong.

 

I dreamed I was sleeping — not in my bed in Quested Court, not in my narrow, creaky bed at Highgate, but in a strange bed in a strange room, somewhere I didn't recognise and had never been before. Although I was sleeping, I could see my sleeping form bundled in blankets, lying motionless in the stillness of the night.

And I could see a shadowy figure, darker than the surrounding darkness, drift silently to my bedside. For an endless moment the figure remained motionless, shapeless, nearly invisible in the blackness.

I almost began to believe it might have melted away.

But then it loomed towards me out of the darkness, hunching over me, sniffing me out — shapeless, eyeless, soulless, blotting out the darkness with a deeper darkness, an endless emptiness …

 

With a sickening lurch, I was awake in an instant, bathed in cold sweat, my heart racing, hardly daring to breathe. My eyes stared blindly into the darkness. The room was utterly silent and I could hear my heart thudding in my ears.

It was just a dream, I told myself. Lighten up. Turn over. Go back to sleep. But the dream hovered too close. I couldn't bring myself to move … because I felt a presence in the room.

Without moving a muscle, I swivelled my eyes, searching the room, dreading what I might see. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and I could make out the vague shape of the other bed, the chest of drawers, the wardrobe. But apart from those, there was nothing.

Through the wild hammering of my heart, I heard a sound — the faintest rasp of wood on wood, beside my head. For a long moment I lay frozen. Then, summoning every atom of courage I possessed, I murmured sleepily, groaned, and turned over to face … nothing.

Nothing … that I could see. Turn on the light, I told myself. Just reach out your hand and turn it on. Don't be a baby. Do it. One … two … three. I reached out my hand, groped for the switch of my bedside lamp, and flicked it on.

Soft light bathed the room. There was nothing there. I heard the faintest, tiniest click: the click of the door being closed, softly as a feather.

My bedside drawer was open the merest crack.

I groped under the pillow for my ring. I'd fallen asleep with it in my hand — for comfort, and to bring me courage for the following day. It was there. My shawl was there too, bundled up under the bedclothes, where it usually ended up by morning.

I slid the drawer open. My
Bible
was exactly where I'd left it, beside my torch. My penny whistle was there too, hidden away behind them both. With a sigh of relief I pushed the drawer shut — completely shut, as my orphanage training had taught me to do; as I always did, without fail.

I lay down again, and pulled the bedclothes up to my
chin. I left the light on. A long time later, Richard turned over onto his back and began to snore.

And a long, long time after that, I finally fell asleep.

It had never occurred to me that it might be approaching nightfall when we returned to Karazan.

Once again I made the transition effortlessly. When I opened my eyes it was dusk, and I was standing alone on the tussocky rise at the foot of the cliff. Before I had time to wonder where the others were, they materialised one by one. First Gen collapsed on the grass in a heap, then Richard appeared out of nowhere, shaking his head as if to clear it. Kenta followed him, her face screwed up and her head in her hands. Last of all came Jamie, on hands and knees, making retching sounds.

He looked up at me reproachfully. ‘You said it was
easy
, Adam,' he moaned. ‘I feel like I'm going to throw up.' He rolled over and lay on his back, clutching his stomach.

I was about to answer him when Kenta spoke. ‘Look,' she said, pointing, ‘the cat has followed us.'

‘Oh no! How did that happen?' Sure enough, there at the foot of the standing stone sat Tiger Lily, washing her
face with her paw. And then I remembered — she'd been in the computer room when Q had given us our final briefing. She'd been kind of winding herself round my ankles, the way cats do. She must have been touching me when I gave the keyboard command, and been drawn along with me, like a magnet.

Richard laughed.

‘I don't see what's so funny,' said Gen. ‘OK, here we are in Karazan, but that's about the only thing that's gone according to plan. It'll soon be dark, and I don't fancy spending the night here. And what are we going to do about the cat? We can't take him with us.'

‘Her,' I said. ‘She's a her.' But no one was listening.

‘We must go back again right away.' Jamie's bottom lip was quivering. ‘Then we can take the cat back, have a proper dinner, and spend the night safe in our own beds at Quested Court. We can come back again in the morning, after breakfast.'

He seemed to have forgotten we'd just had breakfast, and it already
was
the middle of the morning — in our own world.

But my big worry was Tiger Lily. What if she melted off into the trees and we never saw her again? I flinched — I'd be the one who'd have to explain to Hannah when we got back. I squatted on the ground and held out one hand. ‘Kitty-kitty-kitty,' I went enticingly. ‘Tiger Lily! Come here.' But every time I crept within reach she'd hop nimbly away, as if it was a game of tag.

Even when the others joined in, we had no better luck. After a spectacularly unsuccessful rugby tackle, Richard said he was giving up.

‘I agree. Anyway, I don't think we should go back — it seems inappropriate to treat travel between dimensions like a shuttle bus, available to take you home every time you meet a minor setback,' said Kenta primly. ‘Remember
what Q told us? Karazan may well retain some elements of a game world, where everything should be examined and questioned. Much may occur with a hidden purpose that will only become apparent later. Perhaps this is an example. Perhaps the cat is here for a reason.'

‘Oh, come
on
,' sneered Jamie scornfully. ‘He was smarming up to Adam, and got pulled through by accident. Of course we should take him back. You said I'd never volunteer for anything dangerous, Richard. Well,
I'll
take the cat back home, if we can catch him.'

It was Gen who put her finger on the flaw in his heroic offer. ‘You can't. There's only one microcomputer — we all have to travel holding hands, remember?'

‘Yes,' agreed Kenta. ‘What if you took the cat back, and —' she paused delicately — ‘something prevented you from returning?'

There was a short, rather unpleasant silence while everyone thought about what that would mean.

‘Let's vote on whether to continue or return,' suggested Kenta.

‘Cool,' said Rich. ‘I vote to go on.'

‘Same here. I say now we're here, we should tough it out.' I didn't say so, but the prospect of spending a night under the Karazan stars was exciting — terrifying, but irresistible. ‘After all, we've got our sleeping bags.'

‘I vote to continue, but I am uncertain what we should do about the cat. He is a complication.'

‘Tiger Lily,' I told Kenta. ‘He's a she, and her name is Tiger Lily.'

‘That's three out of five for carrying on,' said Richard with satisfaction. ‘Seems like the decision's made.'

I would have been happy to make our camp right there, up in the open under the stars. But everyone else said they'd feel more comfortable under the trees, and what if it started to rain? Jamie broke his sulky silence long enough
to suggest that we knock on Ronel and Argos' door and ask for a bed for the night, but fortunately no one took him seriously.

We followed the sound of the river down through the forest, past where I'd found the flame vine, and past the place where I reckoned the cottage must be, tucked away among the trees. The further from the entry point we could get before dark the better, the others thought — in the game, at least — the forest held fewer dangers closer to its borders, and was relatively safe near the city of Arakesh.

The ground continued to slope gradually down, and it grew steadily darker. Just as I was about to suggest we call a halt and camp where we were, Richard, who'd scrambled on ahead down a steep bank, let out a triumphant shout: ‘Here we go, guys! The perfect camping spot!'

We slithered down the bank after him, the sound of rushing water in our ears. Sure enough, the trees thinned out into a grassy clearing, at one side of which was a wide pool with a waterfall. ‘I remember this place from
Quest to Karazan
,' Gen told us, her eyes sparkling. ‘There are edible fish in the pool, and the water's safe below the fall.' That meant we'd have fresh water to drink, somewhere to wash in the morning, and the shelter of the trees if we needed it.

Rich was right: it was perfect.

Finding such an ideal spot to spend the night cheered everyone up, even Jamie. Cautiously staying within sight of one another, we scavenged for firewood. Soon we had a merry blaze going, thanks to the lighters Q had issued us with. It was Jamie who suggested we cook something over the campfire, and then try to get some sleep: ‘It's what you do to counter jet lag,' he told us: ‘try to adapt to the time frame of your destination as quickly as possible.'

When Gen found a packet of marshmallows in her rucksack, everyone was quick to agree. We toasted
marshmallows on sticks over the fire, and for the first time we really talked.

We talked about our quest, and whether the magic potion really existed, and where we should begin our search. We talked about Q's competition, and how we'd felt when we won, and how different the reality was from what we had expected. We told ghost stories, until Gen gave a shiver and asked if we could stop.

And because magic suddenly seemed very real, and anything seemed possible, we talked about what we would choose if each of us was granted one wish.

‘A million more wishes,' goes Jamie, quick as a flash. But he was shouted down. This was serious, insisted Kenta.

‘I'd wish to be the greatest rugby player in the world,' said Richard.

‘I would wish to be able to attend university,' said Kenta. ‘It probably seems a waste of a wish to you, but for me it is an almost impossible dream.'

‘What about you, Gen?' I asked curiously. ‘What would you wish?'

Gen poked the fire with her stick, and watched as it flared into a flame. Strange shadows danced on her face. ‘Promise you won't laugh?' she said shyly. ‘I'd wish … I'd wish to be beautiful. You know how I love fairy tales? Well, my mother does too. She told me that when I was born, she thought about what gift she would have asked my fairy godmother for, at my christening. “And I'm ashamed to admit, Genevieve, that it didn't take me long to decide on beauty. It can get a girl a long way in life,” she said.' Gen sighed. ‘Well, it's pretty obvious my fairy godmother didn't turn up. But I've always wondered what it would have been like if she had.'

‘Personally, I do not believe that superficial appearance is at all important,' Kenta told her staunchly.

‘Yes, I know,' sighed Gen. ‘But still …'

‘OK,' Jamie spoke up unexpectedly. ‘Seeing you were honest, Gen, I will be too.' We all looked over at him expectantly. ‘I'd wish …' I'd have sworn he was blushing, but maybe it was only the firelight reflecting on his face, ‘I'd wish to have friends. It's like … at school, I get teased a lot. About … my size and not being much good at sport. Everyone else seems to have a best friend. But not me. If I could have one wish, it'd be for that.'

We'd caught glimpses of Tiger Lily on and off during our walk, flitting through the trees after us like a pale shadow. While we'd been talking by the fire, she'd appeared on the bank of the pool and found herself a position on a rock, staring intently into the water. Now, the silence following Jamie's words was broken by a gruesome crunching sound. I went over to investigate. She had caught herself some dinner, and was enjoying it as much as we were our marshmallows — though I wouldn't have liked to swap.

Soon it looked as though Jamie's jet lag suggestion was paying off: there were more and more yawns, and the talk tailed away to sleepy silence.

‘I think Jamie's right,' said Gen at last. ‘We should all try to get some rest. It'll make morning come sooner.'

Q had issued us all with identical sleeping bags, moss-green and about the size of Swiss rolls. They were made of goose-down and weighed almost nothing. Q said they'd keep us warm in even the coldest weather. We agreed we should take turns to be on watch and keep the fire going. Jamie volunteered for first stint, with a meaningful look at Richard, and settled down stoically with his back to a tree trunk.

The rest of us curled up a safe distance away from the fire. Gradually, silence settled and I became aware of the sounds of the forest — the whispering of the wind in the treetops; an occasional furtive rustling; a sudden chattering
alarm call. Once, I heard a long, howling cry, but it was very far away. And once I saw — or thought I saw — pale, glowing eyes staring out of the undergrowth, but the moment I focused on them, they blinked and were gone.

Sleep seemed very far away.

After a long time, I heard muffled sobbing from the dark shape that was Gen. I lay still, wanting to help but not knowing how, trying to decide whether to say anything to her — and
what
to say, to a girl who was crying. I saw a small shape slip across to her sleeping bag like a ghost. There was a startled murmur, a rustle, and soon the unmistakable sound of purring.

I smiled to myself, settled deeper into my sleeping bag, and gazed up at the unfamiliar constellations wheeling in the velvet sky above me.

No matter what lurked in the dark beyond our campfire, I had never felt so happy.