Shapeshifter's Guide to Running Away (Spellchasers) Page 5

  “I’m not permitted to reveal—”

  Molly gasped. “Mrs Sharpe is missing too. Did you see her taken through your door?”

  The sphinx flicked his tail.

  Innes said slowly, “Atacama, tell me the truth. Did you see Mrs Sharpe go through?”

  Atacama flexed his claws.

  “Did she go willingly or unwillingly?”

  The sphinx growled.

  Molly knelt beside the sphinx. “Did she ask for help? Was she the one who asked for your help and you didn’t do anything?”

  Atacama snarled. “It’s my job! I have to ask the riddle, and I have to let anyone with the answer past! I’m a sphinx, and that is what sphinxes do!”

  He rushed out of the kitchen, and out of the cottage.

  Innes said, “He let them drag Mrs Sharpe through his door, and he didn’t even tell us!”

  “Perhaps he did try to tell us,” said Molly. “At the farm, remember, he asked about evidence that she’d gone missing?”

  Innes sighed. “Mrs Sharpe helped all of us last week. If the curse-hatched are holding her prisoner, we have to get her out.”

  “How?” asked Theo. “Your friend is refusing to open his door.”

  Innes grinned. “It won’t be that difficult, will it, girls?”

  Molly and Beth shook their heads.

  “It won’t be difficult for us,” Innes continued, “but you, toad-boy, can just wait behind the casks for us to come out again.”

  “You don’t know anything about the Keeper’s Hall or the curse arc. I can be your guide, your advisor.”

  “I’m not taking advice from you!” said Innes.

  Beth sighed. “Stop being such a territorial animal, Innes. Theo might be useful. Molly, what do you think?”

  Molly looked at Theo, who smiled at her.

  “You were a perfectly nice toad,” she said, “and we worked well together before, so I’m sure we can work together again.”

  Innes said, “How can we work with him? He cursed Atacama, attacked us and escaped from our circle. And he’s been unbelievably arrogant and annoying ever since he stopped being a toad and started flicking that ridiculous cloak about.”

  “You don’t like him,” said Beth.

  “Really? I’m sorry if I’m giving that impression.”

  “But it’s possible to work with someone you don’t like,” said Beth. “And it’s possible to change your mind about someone. I didn’t like Molly when I first met her, but she’s my favourite hare now!”

  “It’s understandable that you dislike me, Innes,” said Theo smoothly. “I embarrassed you in front of your friends when I stepped out of your circle, and you’re used to being in charge—”

  “Innes isn’t in charge!” said Beth.

  “When he’s a horse, he’s bigger and stronger than any of you, so he acts like he’s in charge. He’s already threatened by Molly’s speed and now he’s threatened by my power.”

  Innes said, “I’m not threatened by you, I just don’t like you. And I don’t trust you.”

  “You don’t have to like me or trust me. You can even call me toad-boy rather than Theo. But ask yourself: will I be useful? With my knowledge of the curse arc, and my small insignificant weakened powers,” he flicked his fingers and a crown of tiny flames started dancing around Innes’s head, “will I keep your friends safe? If you think I can be useful, let me join you.”

  Beth said, “Innes. Think before you answer.”

  Innes frowned. “Ok. You might be useful. But you’re not in charge.”

  Theo smiled. “Of course I’m not. Shall we go?”

  ***

  “You know why we must enter the Keeper’s Hall, so please let us past,” said Beth, as they stood in front of the sphinx and the door.

  “No one is getting past me,” insisted Atacama. “No one will make me break my vow. Innes, you know my vow, you were my guest at the ceremony!”

  Innes nodded. “Never to let anyone past, unless they know the answer to your riddle.”

  “As my friend since we were kittens, you won’t ask me to break that vow.”

  “Of course I won’t ask you to break that vow. But you don’t have to break it to let us in. Because we already know the answer to your riddle!”

  Atacama hissed.

  Innes smiled. “When we helped you make up your new riddle, after toad-boy cursed you to lose the old one, you had to tell us the answer.”

  “But you promised never to tell anyone else that answer.”

  “We’re not going tell ‘anyone else’. We’re going to tell you. Then you can let us all in, including this fancy flashy fool here.”

  Atacama shook his head.

  “Ask your riddle,” said Beth gently.

  “No!” Atacama moaned. “If I let you in, without the right token in your hand, you’ll die.”

  “Why? We know the right answer.”

  “The answer is not enough. A sphinx is a sentry. But no one employs a sphinx outside a door without another guard inside, or there’s no defence against those with genuine riddling skills. There’s something behind that door that will kill you if you don’t show the token it requires. Please don’t go in, or you will never come out.”

  “But if you don’t know what you guard,” asked Molly, “how do you know there’s something dangerous in there?”

  “I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard rattling noises, then screaming, then silence.”

  Molly sighed. “Perhaps we shouldn’t go in. I can’t put you all in danger, just to help me lift my curse.”

  Theo said, “This isn’t just about your curse, this is about all the other curse victims with no way to lift their curses while their curse-casters are missing. But that’s my job, not yours. So I’ll go myself, if one of you gives me the answer to Atacama’s riddle. No one else has to take the risk of meeting what’s behind this door.”

  Beth said, “I have to go too, to free Molly from dark magic forever.”

  Innes nodded. “I don’t mind a few risks to keep a promise, and to see what the crows are up to with those curse-casters.”

  Molly said, “If it will help other curse victims, of course I’ll go.”

  Atacama’s ears drooped. “Please don’t go in. You’re my friends. I don’t want to sit out here and listen to you start screaming. Then, even worse, listen to you stop screaming…”

  But they all took one step closer to the door.

  Chapter Seven

  “If we don’t go through your door,” said Beth, “then we’re giving up on Molly. And I’m not giving up on her. So I’m sorry, Atacama, but you really do have to ask us your riddle.”

  Atacama sank onto his belly. Then he spoke, softly and slowly:

  I tock all day, but I never say hello;

  I move my hands all day, but I never wave goodbye;

  You can say what you like to me,

  but my face will never show any emotion.

  What am I?

  Beth looked at Molly. “Theo’s doing his job, Innes and I are keeping a promise, but you’re taking responsibility for lifting your own curse. You should answer.”

  Molly took a full breath, to speak loudly and clearly. Then she glanced at Theo, leaning forward, eager to hear the solution. So she knelt beside Atacama and whispered, “A clock,” in his ear, feeling the silky tips of his black fur stroke her cheek.

  Atacama nodded sadly. “You may pass.”

  He edged back from the door. “It’s open. Just push.”

  Molly stood up and the others joined her. They reached out together, pushed the door open, and saw absolute black beyond.

  Atacama whispered, “Goodbye.”

  They stepped inside and stood still, looking forwards into the dark. The soft light of the Speyside afternoon floated through the open door behind them.

  The door closed with painful slowness and they stood in perfect darkness. Then the darkness began to glow.

  Torches flickered into flame at head-height on t
he walls around them. Molly saw a corridor of white stone decorated with small tiles in simple geometric patterns.

  “Mosaics,” she murmured.

  “They’re beautiful,” said Beth, reaching towards a blue-and-gold design of interlocking angles.

  Theo whispered, “Don’t touch! Let’s get moving…”

  As they walked along the corridor, the mosaics on the walls and floor became more complex: swooping wreaths of flowers and fruit, dolphins leaping in pools of water.

  After another few steps, the mosaics showed stern-faced men marching, with eyes made of jewels, faces and hands made of coloured tiles, swords and spears made of shining metallic squares.

  “Come on,” said Theo, “faster!”

  Molly heard a clicking sound.

  Then she saw that the floor ahead sloped sharply upwards.

  No. That wasn’t what she was seeing. The floor was flat.

  The mosaics were rising up to meet them.

  Warriors created from fragments of glass and stone were lifting off the floor. Their sandaled feet stayed on the ground, but their legs and bellies and heads, their arms and hands and swords, were rising. Squares and rectangles of colour rattled as they moved upwards, then hovered in the air, blocking the corridor.

  They were joined by more mosaic men, breaking away from the walls on either side.

  The tall soldier in the middle, wearing a golden breastplate, with skin of terracotta tiles and eyes of green stone, spoke in a staccato voice: “Do you wish to enter the Keeper’s Hall?”

  “Yes,” said Molly.

  “Do you have the token?”

  “We know the answer to the sphinx’s riddle.”

  “Anyone can answer a riddle. Only those with the token may pass.”

  He thumped the butt of his spear on the floor. It clanged solidly, even though Molly could see it was made of unconnected brown and silver tiles.

  “Show me the token or suffer the fate of trespassers.”

  “Do you have the token?” Molly whispered to Theo.

  “I don’t know what token they want.”

  Molly pulled a one pound coin from her back pocket. “I have, em, a golden token.”

  The mosaic man shook his head. It clinked.

  “I have a smooth river pebble,” Innes held a white stone on the palm of his hand, “which would fit nicely into that gap in your friend’s kneecap.”

  The mosaic man shook his head again.

  Molly dug around in her pockets. “I have—”

  “Stop guessing, children. You either have the Keeper’s token or you don’t.”

  “They don’t have the token,” said the mosaic man to his right.

  “They don’t have the token,” all the mosaic men echoed.

  “Prepare to slice them up,” said the leader.

  Each mosaic man raised a weapon: a sword or spear or double-headed axe.

  Molly could see the gaps between each tile. She could see right through the soldiers and their weapons. But she could also see how each tile stayed perfectly aligned to its neighbours, like birds in a flock.

  “Turn and leave,” said the tallest mosaic man. “Or we will slice you so small that we could use slivers of your bones as tesserae for our next wall of recruits.”

  “Won’t those blades fall apart if they hit us?” said Innes. “Seeing as they’re made of tiles held together by… nothing?” He stepped forward. “Your rickety rattling weapons don’t scare me. Let us past.”

  The leader slashed out with his spear.

  And the blade, composed of a dozen silvery tiles and a whole lot of empty space, cut a clean slit through the kelpie’s shirtsleeve.

  Innes nodded. “Fair enough. That’s only a little bit impossible. But quite effective.” He took an unhurried step back.

  Beth whispered, “Innes, can you kick them to pieces?”

  “I can’t use hooves. Fighting in this tight space, I might kick you lot instead.”

  “Then how do we get past?”

  “Like this.” Theo held out his arms. A black shield appeared in his right hand and a dark metal sword in his left.

  “Where did you get those?” asked Innes, as the mosaic men muttered amongst themselves.

  “I imagined them,” said Theo.

  “Oh, great. Imaginary swords against impossible ones.”

  “I can imagine weapons for you too, if you give me permission to draw energy from your bodies.”

  “What?”

  “We don’t seem to be anywhere earthbound, so I can’t draw power from the land, and I have no stored power just now. So if you want a weapon, Innes, give me permission to make one from your own life-force.”

  The mosaic men stepped forward, clattering on the floor.

  “I need your permission,” murmured Theo. “I won’t do it without consent.”

  The mosaic men stepped closer, their blades pointing at throats and eyes.

  “Yes!” said Molly. “I give you permission!”

  She felt a cold ripple across her skin, and suddenly she was holding a brown shield and a sword.

  “I give you permission,” said Beth, and she had weapons too, purple and silver.

  “Alright, go on then,” said Innes, and he was holding a white shield and pale sword.

  “Anyone know how to use these?” asked Molly, feeling safer behind the shield, but awkward holding the sword.

  “Block with the shield, attack with the sword,” said Theo, “and do it fast. If I draw power from you for too long, you’ll weaken, then die.”

  “Weaken then die?” said Innes. “Thanks for telling us the small print beforehand.”

  The kelpie lunged forward and thrust his sword at the nearest mosaic man. The sword went right through the tiles, but when Innes pulled the blade out, the tiles just slid back into place.

  The warrior slashed down at Innes, who lifted his shield and leapt back.

  “How does this sword help?” he yelled at Theo. “How does making holes in them help, when they’re mostly made of holes?”

  Molly said, “You hit his armour. Try hitting their skin.”

  She jabbed at a mosaic man’s bare upper arm. Her blade passed through with a gentle clinking sound like a wind-chime, and the warrior grinned.

  “Your blades can’t defeat us,” said the leader. “We’re made of broken tile, broken stone, broken glass. You can’t break us further.”

  Theo laughed. “Of course!” His sword and shield vanished. “Cover me! I have an idea.”

  Theo crouched down and the others surrounded him with their shields. The mosaic men attacked, slamming their impossible blades against the barrier. Theo put his hands on the floor and hissed in frustration. “There is no power here. Beth, can I drain more of your life-force?”

  “Why?”

  “As a tree spirit, your primary power is growth and repair. That’s exactly what we need to defeat these soldiers. Do I have your permission?”

  “Yes!”

  Theo grabbed Beth’s hand and she fell to the floor, her sword and shield gone. Molly and Innes leant over them, locked their shields together and braced their bodies underneath, to withstand the crashing blows of the mosaic men’s blades.

  As the mosaic men hacked down, Molly’s arms buckled and her shield started to splinter.

  Then Theo held his hand out past the shields.

  Molly heard tinkling, clattering and brief screams.

  She peered round the edge of her shield. The shapes of the mosaic men were being ripped apart, their eyes and faces and weapons flying in different directions. She saw all the golden tiles melting together, all the terracotta squidging together, all the glass fragments clicking together like a high-speed jigsaw.

  She watched all the tiny tiles that had made up the mosaic men re-form into their original objects: a sheet of gold, a lump of clay, a mirror, a blue necklace…

  There was silence.

  The shield Molly was holding vanished.

  “We couldn’t break them
further,” said Theo. “But we could join their broken pieces together again.”

  Innes and Molly pulled Beth up. The dryad was cold and shaking. Theo was shivering too, as he struggled to his feet without help.

  “What did you do to Beth?” demanded Innes.

  “I used her power to work my magic. Most magicians store power and can work in any environment. I lost my stored power when I lost my hair, so I can only use what’s around me. Normally that’s the ground under my feet, but here there’s only the three of you. And Beth’s power was the best fit for my magical purpose this time, so I used her life-force to save all our lives.”

  Beth looked at the clay and the mirror. “Are the mosaic men dead? Did you kill them? Did I kill them?”

  “They were just pictures with a simple magical instruction to attack trespassers,” said Theo. “They weren’t alive. Not like you’re alive or a tree is alive. You didn’t kill anything, Beth. And if anyone wants to recreate the mosaics, the materials are right here. Now let’s find the Hall.”

  Molly, Innes and Beth walked close together, keeping their distance from the boy in the cloak. The corridor led them to a big arched wooden door, unguarded and ajar.

  Beth stumbled forward and placed her hand on the door. “Old pine, but strong. I can feel the wind and the snows…” After a few moments touching the planks, she stood straight and confident again.

  All four of them walked out into a clear blue morning.

  They’d stepped through a doorway on the side of a tower, onto the wide wall of a white castle built on a mountain. Molly looked round. The wall formed a square, with a tower at each corner. Three towers were the same height, but the tower diagonally opposite them was several stories higher. She saw a handful of crows circle the highest tower and swoop through a window.

  On both sides of the walkway along the top of the wall, the stonework had those up-and-down edges that Molly had always associated with fairytale castles. She joined Innes peering through the outer parapet. The castle was built on a broad summit, with cliffs each side and the rocky peaks of other mountains all around.

  “This isn’t Speyside,” said Innes. “Where are we?”