Night Gate (8 page)

“That’s true,” Goaty said. “I vote for what Bear votes for.”

“She didn’t vote for anything, you nitwit,” snapped Mr. Walker. His tail twitched in irritation.

“I don’t see what else we can do but go there,” Rage said, feeling more troubled than ever. “We have to find out where the wizard is if we ever want to get home. And I’m sure Elle is right and we can slip out of Fork again when we want to leave.”

“Even if these keepers know all about the wizard and where he went, they might refuse to tell us,” Mr. Walker said.

“What do you think we should do, then?” Rage asked.

The little man opened his mouth, then closed it, looking slightly self-conscious. “I suppose we have to go to Fork,” he said at last.

“So let’s go!” Elle said impatiently. When no one argued, she packed up the remaining food into two bundles, neatly tying this to that until she and Billy could sling them over their shoulders. Rage said she was amazed that Elle was so
hand
-y, given she had spent most of her life with paws. This seemed to her a very funny joke, though the animals stared at her in puzzlement when she laughed.

“I guess you have to be human,” she muttered as they set off again. Even Billy looked bemused, and she supposed that his mind hadn’t grown enough to make space for jokes. She had a painful longing for Mam, who had always laughed at her jokes, even when Rage messed them up and said the funny bit in the wrong place.

By the time they left the village behind, dusk was deepening into night. When Rage looked back at the village, she could make out lights in a few of the cottage windows, and little dribbles of smoke coming from the chimney stacks. They heard the setter barking—not in anger, but in a casual way. The barking faded as they went on. The road drew nearer the river until Rage could smell its dank odor and hear it slap and gurgle against the bank.

“I hope we don’t walk off the edge into the river,” Goaty fretted.

“Stay close to me,” Elle said heartily. “If you fall in, I’ll save you.”

“Once upon a time there were rivers where one sip of the water was poison, or where falling in meant forgetting everything you ever knew,” Mr. Walker said dreamily.

“That wasn’t this river,” Billy said.

“You never know with rivers,” Mr. Walker said.

Rage was surprised once more at how much Mr. Walker’s thoughts revolved around the stories and myths her mother had read to them.

The narrow moon was setting when they stopped for the night, having decided it was too dangerous to go on in the darkness. Rage studied the moon curiously, wondering if it was a different moon from the one that shone over Winnoway Farm. It looked exactly the same, but how could that be?

Rage was very glad when Elle found a huge, hollow tree trunk with a dry, woody floor that was big enough for them all to take shelter in. Even Bear could fit in, and though it was a tight squeeze, they were glad to cuddle together. A chilly mist had risen off the river and drifted just above the ground, luminous in the darkness.

Sleep came almost at once. Rage dreamed that she was walking through a jungle looking for Uncle Samuel. Though he must be a grown man now and she had no idea what he looked like, it didn’t seem to matter in the dream. After a bit she thought she could hear a man’s voice in the distance, calling her name, but no matter how long she walked, she never seemed to get any closer.

Sunlight woke her, slanting through the leaves and into the hollow, insistently poking at her eyelids. Rage found herself cuddled warmly between Billy and Bear. It felt so safe and nice that she wished she could stay like that forever. Mr. Walker was asleep in Billy’s lap, snoring.

None of them woke as she eased her way out from between them to go to the toilet. She found a place a short distance from the others and dug herself a shallow hole. It was a nasty, messy business. Covering it over, she thought it was much better in stories, where no one ever had to go to the toilet or eat or bathe. The need to wash her hands drew her to the river, and she was startled at how close it was to where they had slept. The bank was steep, but she found a flat stretch where the river had slopped over the bank to form a quiet lagoon. The river was wide and the current looked strong and swift, but the lagoon was calm and inviting.

She stood gazing at it for a time, remembering Mr. Walker’s words about the dangers of unknown rivers. A poisonous river seemed unlikely, but where there was magic, anything might be possible, even if the magic was dying out. It would be truly awful if she found the wizard only to discover he had no magic to send them home or save Mam.

Sitting on the bank, Rage took out the hourglass again. As before, the grains floated from one end to the other without interruption, no matter which way she held the hourglass. Even when she shook it gently—thinking about Mr. Walker saying that the fall of sand might measure something other than time—it did not seem to affect the inner motion of the sand at all. If it was sand. She held the device close and peered into it, wondering if the grains of sand were magic and what would happen if the glass broke.

“Has Ragewinnoway guessed riddling of wizard yet?” a familiar smoky voice asked.

Rage started violently. “I wish you wouldn’t creep up on me!” she snapped. “I’m not talking to you anymore unless you show yourself.”

There was a faint sizzling noise, and the water in the lagoon began to boil. Rage stared warily into it as the bubbling subsided, but instead of seeing her own face peering back up at her, the water was stained red and orange and flecked with slivers of light that might have been eyes or sharp teeth.

“What does seeing say to Ragewinnoway?” the firecat asked, and the water seemed to shimmer mockingly.

“I can’t see you properly,” Rage complained.

“Ragewinnoway seeing only what is to be seen.” There was the suggestion of a shrug in the voice. “But does she see what wizard is telling in tricky words?”

“I haven’t figured his riddle out yet. But there are some things I want to ask.” Rage was determined to get some clear answers from the elusive creature.

“Maybe answering and maybe not answering,” the firecat said contrarily.

Rage counted to ten. “Where is the Endless Sea? Is it beyond the mountains?”

“If firecat knows where is Endless Sea, firecat can bring hourglass to master,” it sneered.

Rage blinked. The firecat had called the wizard its master! “How long has the wizard been missing?” she asked.

“Long time,” the firecat said vaguely.

Rage guessed from this that it didn’t understand how to count time. “They say here that he disappeared from his castle. Is that true?”

The firecat made no response.

“Did he ask you to bring the hourglass to him before he went, or did he send a message to you?”

“Hourglass belonging to wizard. But is dangerous. Be careful. Not breaking,” the firecat warned, and for the first time there was nothing but seriousness in its tone. Perhaps it was even telling most of the truth for once.

“What does the hourglass do?”

There was a hesitation. “All wizard knows is in hourglass,” it answered finally in a purring voice.

“Why didn’t the wizard take it with him?”

“Firecat not knowing. Wizard saying obey words on hourglass and be rewarded with what you deserve.”

Rage didn’t like the sound of that at all. It almost sounded like a threat. She had intended to ask if the wizard was good or bad, but now that she knew he was the firecat’s master, she doubted that it would answer truthfully—especially since it wanted them to deliver the hourglass. It was clear, though, that the wizard had instructed the firecat
before
disappearing, which meant he really must want the hourglass. But why hadn’t he simply taken it with him, or given simple instructions, instead of creating a difficult and mysterious riddle?

“The wizard told
you
to bring the hourglass to him, didn’t he?” Rage guessed. “He promised to give
you
a reward if you would bring it to him. So why do you need me?”

“Hurrying,” the firecat hissed, then the water began to bubble and spit, and gradually the colors faded.

“I should have asked it if magic is really running out in Valley,” Rage muttered aloud, although the firecat seemed to have no shortage of the magic necessary for appearing and disappearing. She thought over its answers and decided it really did not know where its master was or how to find him.

The urgency of its final, hissed word made her think of the sand in the hourglass. What did it measure? The firecat had warned her not to break it, saying it was dangerous. No doubt it had only said this to make her careful. The wizard would probably be furious at it if the hourglass was damaged. The biggest puzzle was why the wizard had asked the firecat to bring the hourglass to him at all.

Unless the riddle was a test for the firecat itself!

Rage bit her lip in excitement, certain she was right. It was the only explanation that made sense. It even explained the firecat’s evasive manner—by getting Rage to try to figure out the riddle, it was obviously cheating.

Another thought occurred to her. If she was right about the quest for the hourglass being a test, maybe the sand in the hourglass represented the amount of time the firecat had been given to solve its master’s riddle.

Rage wondered how the wizard would feel about
their
solving the riddle, if they managed it. Maybe he would be angry. He might turn them all into frogs or river slime. The firecat had said they would be rewarded, but it was clear the creature would say anything to get them to do what it wanted.

A drab little bird fluttered to the ground and tilted its head to drink from the tea-colored water. Flinging off her clothes, boots, and all thoughts of the firecat and the hourglass, Rage climbed gladly into the lagoon. The water was warm from the sun or maybe from the firecat, and she was still paddling in her underclothes when Billy appeared. He ran at the lagoon with a whoop of delight and plunged in with a great splash.

“You ought to have taken your clothes off,” Rage spluttered, laughing.

He looked embarrassed. “I forgot.” He climbed out and peeled off his T-shirt, jeans, and jacket and jumped in again in cotton shorts. Rage studied him curiously for signs that he was really a dog, but there were none, other than his hairy toes. His skin was creamy pale, and his shoulders were broad and muscular. There were little patches of toffee hair under his arms and a fuzz of hair down his legs, but grown men had those. In human years, Billy appeared to be about sixteen, but as he looked over the small sandbar that separated the lagoon from the river, his expression of longing seemed very young to Rage.

“It’s dangerous,” she said firmly, remembering how he had always been attracted to water as a dog. He sighed and came away from the edge. As they paddled, she told him about the firecat’s appearance. He agreed that it was very likely that the riddle on the base of the hourglass was a test that had been set for it.

“But it doesn’t make any difference to us if it is,” Billy said. “We still have to solve it if we are to find the wizard, get home, and help your mam.”

“The wizard might be mad that
we
solved the riddle,” Rage pointed out.

Billy frowned. “I’m more worried about the keepers than the wizard, to tell you the truth. That centaur said we ought not to draw any attention to ourselves in Fork, but if we tell them how we came to be in Valley, it’s sure to cause a fuss.”

“I know,” Rage agreed.

“I wonder if the wizard setting a test for the firecat could have anything to do with his disappearance,” Billy murmured, now floating and staring at his hairy toes. “Maybe he made the riddle and went to the shore of the Endless Sea to wait for the firecat to solve it, and he’s still there waiting because the firecat can’t figure it out.”

“Why would he wait so long? He’d use his magic to come back and see what had gone wrong,” Rage said.

“What if he couldn’t?” Billy countered, turning onto his stomach. “What if, instead of the hourglass containing a record of all he knew, it actually held all of his power!” His brown eyes glimmered with excitement.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Rage objected. “Why would the wizard risk his power to set a test for the firecat? Besides, like you said, maybe the firecat was lying about the hourglass. That riddle on it doesn’t say anything about the wizard, after all.”

“Then what on earth does the firecat want of us?” Billy dog-paddled neatly around the lagoon, looking glum. Coming back to Rage, he said, “That centaur said the keepers kept annoying the wizard for advice—advice about what?”

“Maybe about everything. I suppose it was because of him making Valley. He must have been like the king here,” Rage said.

“Only he didn’t like being the king, so he became a hermit and then he vanished.”

“I wonder why he made Valley in the first place if he didn’t want to live here,” Rage pondered.

“I’ve just thought of something!” Billy pushed his hair out of his eyes. “What if he put the magic in Valley when he created it, and it’s dying out because he has disappeared?”

They were distracted from this interesting idea by the arrival of Elle and Mr. Walker. Rage climbed out of the water because her underclothes needed time to dry out. Fortunately, the sun was shining brightly and the air was pleasantly warm.

Elle and Billy romped and splashed in the pool. Mr. Walker drank daintily and washed his hands and face but otherwise avoided the water with a shudder. Rage spread out her coat and laid out a breakfast of slightly squashed berries, bread, and cheese. Bear was nowhere to be seen, but Mr. Walker said he could smell her nearby.

After they ate, Rage dressed, checking to be sure the hourglass and Mam’s locket were still safe. She went through the ideas that she and Billy had discussed, but there was no way of knowing which were right. Talking had got them no closer to unraveling the riddle of the wizard’s whereabouts, and in the end that was really all that mattered.

The others were having a last romp on the bank when Bear came out of the bushes. Rage offered her food, but the old dog shook her head and sat down to lick at her paw.