Seven Sorcerers (9 page)

‘You know,’ Nin said as they headed back towards Number 27 and the Drift, ‘I just worked it out! What Boneman said! Like, if enough people are afraid of something, really afraid in their hearts, then it kind of takes shape.’

‘Uh-huh?’

‘I thought it was just me who was scared of the underpass, but when … when Dad died it was in the papers. Only the local ones, but enough people must’ve read
about it. Enough people must go round the corner of the underpass and think about … about how he died and be frightened. P’raps avoid using it altogether. So that’s why it’s here and that’s why there’s a bull. Right?’

‘Sure is,’ said Jonas calmly. ‘But sooner or later, people will forget and then the gate’ll vanish.’

Just as Jonas was about to dive off down the path beside number 27, a chunk-shaped boy with squashed-down hair hurried past them on his way home to lunch.

Nin stopped walking. Then started again. The boy hadn’t given her a second glance and a week ago she wouldn’t have cared a jot. She sighed. There was so much she could have done and hadn’t. Like taking the time to talk to Grandad back when he knew who she was. Like being nicer to Dunk the Chunk instead of snubbing him every time he spoke to her.

She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, he was glancing over his. Their eyes met for a single moment and she smiled at him. Dunk went vividly red and nearly fell over his feet. He turned his head away and hurried on.

‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing. Just … nothing. I remembered I never said thanks for listening.’ She shook her head. ‘Too late now. Hold on! Now we’re off the main road, give me those jeans.’

Jonas handed them over silently. They were loose on her and Nin had to roll them up, but they did just fine. The jacket – with the sleeves turned up – covered her
torn T-shirt nicely. At any rate, it would have to do, it wasn’t like she had much choice.

When they had left the dark hump of the underpass behind, Nin looked back. The hill-that-should-be-Dunforth-but-wasn’t rose in a sweep of green up to the clear sky. A soft breeze bore the scent of growing things and fresh water. There was nothing visible to suggest that murder had nearly been done here. Fortunately, there was no sign of Dandy Boneman either. Nin shivered at the memory.

As they travelled, she began to see that the rise and dip of the strange landscape before her matched the one she knew in the Widdern, like the distorted echo of a shape. The same but almost unrecognisably different. It came to her that if the gateways were links from one world to the next, then the two must lie together, the Long Land somehow overlaying the Widdern like a gauzy topcoat. Unseen, but just a step away.

Which meant that by now, they would be wandering across the high street. Buses would be hurtling along right where they were walking. And now they’d be sauntering through the brick walls of the supermarket. She grinned.

‘Shame you can’t create your own gateways wherever you want. You could be a super-thief. Locked doors, walls, alarms – no problem. Crown Jewels, here we come!’

Jonas laughed. ‘The security footage would make them sit up!’

A rustle in the bushes to their left caught Nin’s attention and she turned to see a fox slinking along in the undergrowth.

‘There was something odd about that fox,’ she told Jonas, trying to work out what it was.

‘Yep. Tell me, when in the Widdern did you last see a fox that red and with a brush brushier than an old bootlace? Look, the Long Land is not Alice’s Wonderland. You aren’t going to wake up and find it was all a dream, it’s as real as we are. Real enough to kill. But the things in it, well, they
are
kind of dream-like because they are the idea of things rather than the thing itself. So, the foxes are russet red, with thick bushy tails and sharp minds. Really sharp minds.’

Nin glanced back. The fox was watching them, its tongue lolling out and its head cocked on one side. It looked curious. When it caught Nin’s eye it flicked its ears nonchalantly and switched its gaze elsewhere.

‘They don’t … talk or anything?’

Jonas gave her a look. ‘Use that fluff that passes for a brain, please! This is not about stories come to life, right?’

‘OK,’ said Nin, humbly.

As they walked, Nin watched the woods. She saw tall trees and twisted ones, tiny flowers that glowed like stars in the shadows, and pools of water hung with mist, but no animals or birds at all. She got the feeling that the
wildlife knew she was looking for it and was keeping out of sight. She heard birdsong, as clear and sweet as a flute, but couldn’t spot the singer. The bushes often rustled behind them, but never in front, and once something thin and dark sprang out of the brambles and back in again before she could get a proper look.

The Long Land knows I’m here, she thought, and the idea was so freaky that she stopped trying to see anything other than the way ahead and stuck close to Jonas.

After the wood came open fields that stretched to the horizon. Far to the left hung the white curtain of Raw, closer now, but still too distant to worry her.

‘So, what Fabulous are left then, after the plague and that?’

‘BMs, obviously, the tombfolk and the odd werewolf or goblin. Oh, there are a few Fabulous Beasts around too, but all the things you don’t want to meet. All the bad things. And the remains of six of the Seven Sorcerers, of course. The things they have become.’

‘How do you mean?’

Jonas shrugged. ‘I only know some of it. Basically, the Seven knew that if they stayed as sorcerers the plague would kill them. So they … changed. Became something else so that they wouldn’t die.’

‘You mean like, a – a monster, or a great bear, or a wonderful jewel …’

Jonas laughed. ‘Sort of like that, only more complicated. You’ve already met one, I think. I might be wrong,
but there was something about Dandy Boneman that stank of old magic. That ring for a start, the one with the ruby. I think it used to belong to Ava Vispilio.’

‘And he was one of the Seven Sorcerers?’

‘Uh-huh. And if Boneman is wearing Vispilio’s ring, it means that Boneman is … Well, let’s just say that although the body is a man called Dandy Boneman, the thing inside him is what’s left of Ava Vispilio. And take those mudmen servants: he’d named them after the other six – Nemus Sturdy, Enid Lockheart, Senta Melana, Morgan Crow and Simeon Dark. Just the sort of thing Vispilio would do, like an insult to them, see? He was said to be a nasty piece of work.’

‘But he’s not a sorcerer any more, just a human using a sorcerer’s staff. He can’t do sorcerer spells or anything.’ It wasn’t a question. Nin was sure that if Boneman had been able to do real magic they wouldn’t be walking around still free.

‘You know,’ she went on. ‘I bet you’re right. I bet it
was
him. He looked daggers at you when you said all that about the staff.’

‘Honestly, Ninevah Redstone,’ said Jonas cheerfully, ‘five minutes in the Drift and you bump into an evil sorcerer!’

Nin shrugged. ‘It’s Wednesday.’

They walked in silence for a little way, then Jonas spoke again.

‘What Boneman said about Celidon being dead was not exactly true, you know. I think that even though they
are no longer sorcerers and can never be sorcerers again, the remains of the Seven are the last breath of Celidon.’

Nin looked at the fields of grass, rippling in the scented breeze and splashed with mop-headed dandelions as fierce and bright as tiny suns. Now the sky had clouds scudding across it like vast-winged creatures, their shapes changing as they flew, from pirate ship to coiling dragon to flying horse. The wind was growing stronger and it whipped the summit of the distant Raw into snakes of white vapour that reached hungrily into the air.

‘The last breath of Celidon,’ she said softly. She remembered what Boneman had said about the plague moving on to the Land. The hairs on her skin prickled and she hunched her shoulders, feeling as if the knowledge of something dark was just out of her reach.

After the whole being blasted with magic and chased into the underpass thing, she had been left feeling as if she hated the Drift. Now, having walked a little in its green hills and wild woods, her heart was changing and the tales Boneman had told about the Long Land began to stir her imagination. It was terrifying to know that such a place, filled with such things, could exist, but it was also exciting. To know that all the beauty and the terror was dying and that she would never see it as it once was gave her an ache inside.

Jonas was drawing ahead, so she ran after him as he carved a path through the long grass. It occurred to her that if part of surviving in the Drift was to be careful
who you trusted, then she was putting her faith in Jonas far too easily. He turned to grin at her as she tumbled up behind him, panting.

‘Come on, kid, there’s no time for wool gathering, you know.’

For a moment he sounded just like Grandad. It’s all right, thought Nin, and whatever he says, I’ve got to trust someone.

hen Nin’s feet were too sore for her to go much further, they settled at the top of a low hill to rest, not far from a small stream.

To her dismay Jonas had stopped on the way to pick up some rabbits caught in a snare, and had been walking the last few miles with their cleaned and gutted corpses dangling in a bundle from his pack. They would be passing beyond the boundary of his hunting territory soon, so this would be the last free food ready and waiting. Past this point, Jonas told her, was an afternoon’s walk to the Drift town of Hilfian where his friend lived. Then came the long journey to the Savage Forest and the Heart of Celidon before she could even think about making it to the Terrible House of Strood.

Turning it all over in her head, Nin watched as Jonas built a fire and began cooking the rabbit. She didn’t fancy the Savage Forest at all, though the Heart of Celidon didn’t sound too bad. She went cold inside when she thought about the bit where they reached Hilfian and she went on without him.

But she didn’t have to leave Jonas yet, so she tried to put it out of her mind and set about making a mudman according to Dandy Boneman’s recipe. She wanted to see the Land work its magic, but also she wanted to learn, to understand it better. She was going to need that knowledge.

Digging up a pile of earth with her bare hands, she raked through it to turn out some of the larger stones. The soil wasn’t sticky enough so she scooped up mug after mug of icy water from the stream that seemed to whisper in her ear as she leaned over it.

‘Streams, rivers, they all do that,’ Jonas told her. ‘People call it the Voice of the Land. It always says the same thing, too – Doom and Death. Death Without End. Sometimes, rivers sing at night – you should hear it then!’

‘No thanks!’ said Nin with a shiver.

She mixed the water with the earth, adding a little at a time to make sure it didn’t get too runny. It reminded her so much of cookery classes at school that she got a fit of the giggles. Once she had it just right she began to push it into shape. The mud felt cool and soft under her fingers, but making it do what she wanted was difficult. Jonas watched her with an amused look, but didn’t interfere.

When she had finished she dug her finger into its round head to make eyes and used a twig to scratch a mouth, then stepped back to take a look. Her mudman was lumpier than Dandy’s had been. It was lopsided and
its arms were too long.

Next came the baking part. She realised that if she tried to pick the mudman up and move it to the fire it would fall apart, so instead she took the fire to the mudman. She gathered some branches and twigs and made a kind of pyre over it, which she set alight using one of the twigs as a taper.

By now, the rabbit was coming on nicely and the smell made Nin’s mouth water as she settled down to watch her mudman cook. She wondered what she would live on once she had left Jonas. Berries and things would have to do. She made a mental note to talk to Jonas about berries. And things.

Nin shivered as a surge of longing for her mother rushed through her. Suddenly she felt very alone and lost in this beautiful and deadly land. Even though she knew that Toby might be out there, as lost as she was and in need of her help, Jonas was the only wall between her and a world full of danger and leaving him to go on alone would be unbearably hard. Just thinking about it gave her butterflies in her stomach the size of vultures and about as friendly. But however impossible finding Toby seemed, Nin knew that she couldn’t give up. Not if she was going to live with herself ever again. There was being afraid and there was being a coward and they were different.