Battle of the Sun (7 page)

SOME MORE USEFUL INFORMATION

A
s Jack turned to go, the Dragon shot out a long scaly foot, and nearly frightened Jack to death.

‘Why so nervous, Jack? Take these, for they will be of some use to thee. Guard them well, with dragon-care.’

And the Dragon gave Jack seven sunflower seeds. Jack dropped them into his pocket with the coconut. Then he left the way he had come, climbing the strange tree with its mossy branches that led from the Dragon’s lair back up to the house.

The hallway was as dark as ever. The door to the library was open. Jack crept across the floor and saw the Magus sitting at the stone table poring over a book. He was as still as stone himself, more like a statue than a human being.

Realising that he had a chance, Jack ran back to the cellar to tell the Sunken King what had happened with the Dragon.

As he entered the cellar he was talking already. ‘I have met with the Dragon! I must find the Cinnabar Egg, and then he will prepare the Bath.’

But the Sunken King gave no acknowledgement of Jack’s presence. He remained in his glass tank, but he was fearfully changed. It was as though the waters had begun to claim him, and the outlines of his body wavered and vanished, vanished and wavered.

Jack went right up to the thick glass and pressed his hands against it to attract the King’s attention. Curiously, for the room was cold, the glass was warm.

The King raised his head, slowly, slowly, as though he were raising himself through many lifetimes, and coming to the surface of this life, now.

‘It is too late,’ he said in a whisper.

‘Not too late,’ said Jack, ‘I’ll be quick as a thief, but help me, please – where does he sleep, the Magus?’

‘He does not sleep,’ said the Sunken King faintly, echoing the Dragon, ‘yet his chamber is near your own, and there you will find the Cinnabar Egg.’

As the King said these last words his voice faded away like a ghost pulled back through time.

Jack hesitated, nodded, then ran back up the stairs. His mind was racing – if the Magus was still in the library, if Jack could discover the chamber, if he could take the Egg . . .

He was already at the foot of the first flight from the hall to the upper floors, when the library door was flung wide open and there was the figure of the Magus standing in the doorway.

‘Jack . . .’

Jack turned, afraid.

‘Don’t be afraid, Jack, I am not going to punish you. Come back – you ran away too fast.’

Jack entered the room. There was his mother, standing quite still on the far side of the table, by the fireplace.

‘Did you think I would not know? Did you think I would not divine it?’ said the Magus.

‘Know what? Divine what?’ replied Jack defiantly.

‘Oh, Jack, you are cleverer than that, and I am far cleverer than you. This is your mother, Anne. She came to find you.

But fear not, I shall not send her away. Indeed, I have made quite certain that she will stay with us. Come here, Jack.’

Reluctantly Jack went round to where the Magus was standing with his mother. When he saw what he saw he cried out.

His mother had been turned to stone.

‘Jack, have no fear,’ said his mother bravely.

Jack looked down. His mother’s feet, her shins, her knees, the tops of the legs to her waist had been turned to stone. Her arms were free and her upper body was flesh.

‘It is well, is it not,’ said the Magus, ‘that your mother should watch over you?’

Then, like a lion, the Magus seized Jack in both his hands and held him in a grip so tight that Jack thought he would burst his blood vessels. ‘Jack,’ said the Magus, ‘you will not disobey me, you will not betray me, for the next time you do, then I will turn your mother to stone up to her neck, do you hear, and after that, if there is a third time, she will be as stone as a statue.’

‘Let her go!’ said Jack.

‘When you become my true assistant, when you serve me as I require. When the mighty work of the Opus is complete, then on that day, I tell you, Jack, on that day and on no other, your mother will be freed to life. Do you understand, Jack? The choice is yours. Your mother’s life is for you to keep or to lose!’

The Magus let go of Jack and walked towards the window, where the light was just beginning to open the black night sky.

The second the Magus turned away, Jack’s mother motioned to her son, and as he came forward she slipped him the iron tool. As the Magus turned back, all he saw was the two of them embracing.

‘Most touching sight,’ he said, ‘a mother and son.’

‘Did you never have a mother yourself, sir?’ said Anne, ‘a mother who would do for you what I have done for Jack? ’Tis only what any mother would do.’

‘My mother died in childbirth,’ said the Magus. ‘I never knew her. My father sold me for a gold coin.’

The Magus took a worn gold coin from his pocket and spun it into the air, where by some magic it hung for a moment like a small sun in the cold room. As it fell, the Magus caught it. ‘That was my price . . .’

There was a silence in the room, such a silence as Jack had never heard. It was the silence of loss.

‘And so,’ said the Magus, ‘I take pity on boys who like me have no father and mother, and I give them work and shelter. They shall all be rewarded in good time.’

‘Jack is not a boy without mother or father,’ said Anne.

‘You cannot keep him.’

‘He is the Radiant Boy,’ said the Magus, ‘and that is he for whom I have searched all these years, like my master before me. He will allow me to complete the Work.’

‘I don’t know how to,’ said Jack.

‘You will know,’ said the Magus. ‘Now go to the kitchen and get food and drink from Mistress Split, and bid her attend to your mother when she is done.’

Jack kissed his mother and left for the kitchen. When he pushed open the heavy oak door that led to the vast stone kitchen, he saw the fire burning in the deep hearth, and lying in front of it, black nose in velvet paws, was his dog Max.

Jack ran forward and scooped Max up in his arms, crying into his warm fur. Jack didn’t cry much, he was a brave boy, but sometimes things are so awful that tears are all you can do. If he hadn’t cried then, not for himself but for his mother, what kind of a boy would he have been? A boy without a heart.

But Jack had a heart; a big brave beating heart, and it was his heart that wept. His dog Max licked his tears away and tried to show Jack that he wasn’t alone and sad.

Sunflower seeds, Cinnabar Egg, Sunken King, Dragon, Magus, gold, gold, gold . . . all the names and images were whirling around in his head that felt too hot from the fire and from his misery. He sat down on the stone floor, a picture of dejection, feeling suddenly helpless and hopeless. What could he do? He was only a boy.

The kitchen door crashed open and in hopped Mistress Split. She was in a state of high glee, and singing to herself:

‘All mine, all mine, all the time, all the time.’

She pulled her sword from her skirt and swung it over her head to the hanging metal rack where the pots and pans hung. She used the sword like a stick, and beat the pots and pans like cymbals, hopping up and down, crash bang slam, crash bang slam. ‘All mine, all mine, all the time, all the time!’

Suddenly she noticed Jack sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up, and Max sitting beside him. Her half-face was a picture of contradictions. When she looked at the dog, her face was soft as milk. When she looked at Jack, her mouth was stretched like a fox that finds its prey.

‘Now SHE is done for, the dog is MINE! Never had a whole mine all my Bottle days. Never had more than a half of this or a half of that or a half of the other. Now I have a dog entire – four paws, two eyes, two kidneys, all a nose, and all MINE.’

She hopped over to the fireplace in a giant leap and cuffed Jack out of the way, scooping up the unfortunate Max, who knew enough to pretend enough to save the boy he loved.

‘Boojie Boojie Boojie!’ said Mistress Split.

Jack got up and placed himself out of reach.

‘Who told you to come meddling in my kitchen?’ demanded Mistress Split, her half-nose in Max’s full furry neck.

‘The Magus,’ said Jack evenly, refusing to show fear. ‘His orders were to feed me and then to attend to Mistress Anne.’

‘Your mother, eh?’ said Mistress Split. ‘No more mother now! And no more dog!’

‘That is my mother’s dog, not my dog,’ said Jack.

Mistress Split came forward and thrust her half-face in his face. ‘MY DOG,’ she said.

Jack did not flinch. ‘Please do as the Magus says. Those are his orders – to feed me, to attend to my mother, and . . .’ Jack had had a brainwave. Suddenly he knew how he could locate the secret bedchamber of the Magus. ‘. . . and you are to service his chamber.’

Mistress Split snorted. ‘Does he think I have more than half a pair of hands? Get your own bread and cheese, go on, and put the same on a tray for your mother, if I am to take it to her. As to the chamber . . .’

Wedge came slamming into the kitchen, the look on his face like half a thunderstorm. ‘KEYS!’ he yelled.

‘If you PLEASE,’ yelled back Mistress Split.

‘Boys must rise and be earnest,’ said Wedge.

‘The Magus wants his chamber serviced,’ said Mistress Split.

Wedge scowled. ‘What time have I to do that today?’

Mistress Split shrugged. ‘Orders is orders, that’s his way.’

She flung the keys across the table and balanced the tray deftly on one hand. She left the room, Max trotting beside her.

‘I’ll have that dog in two!’ said Wedge. ‘All halves, as well She knows, all halves, no wholes, as well She knows.’

Then he stopped talking to himself and fixed Jack with a dark stare. ‘You! Come with me. The boys must be woken and I’ll not leave you to yourself, mischief Jackster.’

Jack followed Wedge upstairs to the boys’ chamber.

What was puzzling Jack was where the door to the Magus’s chamber could be, for there were no doors but one on the top landing where the boys slept, and yet the Sunken King had said that this was the place.

Wedge unlocked the door and lined the boys up in order of age. Crispis, rubbing his eyes and still sleepy, came last.

As Wedge was hurling oaths and threats of punishment at the boys, who were hastily making their beds or pulling on their socks, Jack told Crispis to watch where Wedge went as the boys filed downstairs. Usually this only took place with Wedge at the rear and Mistress Split at the head, but today was different . . .

Sure enough, Wedge ordered the boys to go straight to the laboratory and begin making the fires. There was always two hours’ hard work chopping wood and heating water before breakfast.

The boys set off meekly. Crispis trailed at the rear, and at the last second looked round to see Wedge doing something very strange indeed . . .

HOW TO KEEP A PROMISE

I
n the laboratory Jack told Robert and Peter what had happened the night before; how he had met the Dragon, and been instructed to steal the Cinnabar Egg. William was listening. ‘You’ll never find it if it’s in his chamber. Nobody knows where his chamber is.’

‘Yesterday Robert thought I could never find the Dragon, but I did so,’ said Jack. William frowned. The Eyebat flew past with a whoosh.

‘I hate that thing,’ said Robert.

‘If the Magus ever finds out that you are planning to escape . . .’ said William.

‘Who is going to tell him?’ said Jack defiantly. ‘I am going to find the Egg, free the Sunken King, and then the Magus will be defeated.’

‘But he has turned your mother to stone!’ said Robert.

‘The King will return her, I know he will,’ said Jack. ‘He will do that if I save him and restore his power.’

Crispis came forward. ‘Your mother promised me a sunflower this morning,’ he said sadly.

‘How did she do that?’ said William suspiciously, and just as Jack was about to say that he had unlocked the door to his mother, he saw the look on William’s face, and he knew he must not trust him.

Robert simply shrugged his shoulders; he was used to Crispis saying strange things. ‘We had better get to work,’ he said, ‘before Wedge comes back. William – fire the furnace, Jack, bring mercury for the alembic, Crispis, tell the others to chop the wood.’

William turned away to his tasks. Crispis came up to Jack.

‘It’s in the ceiling,’ he whispered. ‘I saw it.’

And he told Jack what had happened . . .

Wedge had stood in front of the door to the boys’ chamber, and using his stick, he had rapped three times on the ceiling above the door. As Crispis had lingered, hiding behind the newel post on the stairs, he had heard a click and seen a small trapdoor open in the ceiling. More than that he had not seen, because Wedge, suspicious, had suddenly looked round, but he could not see tiny Crispis, thin as an adder, slithering flat on his bottom down the stairs.

‘Excellent!’ said Jack. ‘And I have something for you. Look.’ He took a sunflower seed from his pocket. ‘Here is your sunflower, Crispis. A promise is a promise.’

‘That is not a sunflower!’ said Crispis.

‘Yes it is. Inside this seed is a sunflower.’

‘How can I get it out?’ asked Crispis.

‘Soil and water,’ said Jack. ‘Plant it and you will have a sunflower. But for now, hide it in your pocket. Quick – it’s Wedge.’

It was Wedge and Mistress Split fetching the boys for breakfast. But there had been a change; now the two of them snarled and scowled at each other as much as they ever did at the boys.

In the refectory Jack slid on to the bench beside Robert.

‘Tonight I’m going to break into the Magus’s chamber. Will you help me?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Robert. ‘It’s hopeless.’

‘If you say it’s hopeless then it will be hopeless!’

‘He knows everything we do.’

‘The Dragon told me that he only knows what we are thinking when we are anxious or afraid. If we aren’t afraid we’ll succeed.’

‘I am afraid,’ said Robert.

‘All I want you to do is to keep watch while I am in his chamber. If anyone comes upstairs or anything happens, can you hoot like an owl?’

Robert nodded.

‘Tonight, then, Robert, promise me?’

‘But we’ll be locked in!’

William came and sat by them, listening. Jack fell silent.

The day passed as the days did in the Dark House. The boys worked at the alembics, Crispis sat sleepily nodding by the talking Head that never talked. The Eyebat whooshed about, but no one took any notice of it any more.

The Magus was strangely absent, and Jack felt sure that something was being prepared. The heavy lead-like quality of the days that passed without any change had a different feel today, like light on a cold floor. Jack knew that the Magus would know that he had spoken to both the Dragon and the Sunken King, but he was sure that the Dragon would guard the secret of the Cinnabar Egg because he wanted it for himself. He thought about what the Dragon had said about their bargain: ‘Your trust is not interesting. You want something from me and I want something from you. That is interesting.’

It would be the same with the Magus. At present Jack was safe because he had something – even though he had no idea what it was – that the Magus wanted. Therefore there was nothing to fear. Therefore, this was the time to act.

Jack’s mind settled as he turned these things over and over. He was not sure about Robert, because Robert had too much fear, but he felt sure about Crispis, a child so odd that he was true. William . . . no, Jack couldn’t trust William, and he had nothing that William wanted. Therefore, William was dangerous.

At that moment Jack looked up and there was William, looking at him, with the Eyebat hovering just above his head. Quickly William averted his gaze, but Jack had seen the way he looked – envy and anger.

Jack made an effort to blank his mind now, as anxiety was creeping in, and that, he knew, made him vulnerable to the Magus.

* * *

In his library, the Magus was reading. The table was piled with books. Anne, standing quite still, could see that the Magus was consulting astrological tables.

‘At the next full moon the moon will eclipse the sun,’ said the Magus.

‘What does that mean, sir?’ said Anne.

The Magus did not answer. He turned and passed his hand over the fire, and what Anne could not see was the spire of St Paul’s burning fierce gold in the flames.

The day began to close, as days must, so that even the worst days will end and bring in their ending the chance of a new start.

The boys had been sent upstairs early, and after they had talked awhile, they one by one fell asleep. Only Jack lay awake. Wide awake.

When he was sure that the house was silent, and when he had counted the boys’ snores, he carefully swung himself out of bed and went to the door. He looked through the keyhole – the landing was empty. Without a sound, Jack took out the iron tool and jiggered the lock. The door was open.

Jack went to where Robert was sleeping and woke him roughly, shaking his shoulder.

‘No,’ said Robert, sleepily.

‘Yes,’ said Jack. ‘Get up! You promised.’

Robert did as he was told, and to his amazement, Jack opened the door to their bedchamber.

‘It isn’t locked!’ said Robert, now fully awake.

But Jack wasn’t going to tell anyone how that had happened.

On the dark landing the two boys looked around.

‘Let me stand on your shoulders,’ said Jack.

While Robert was protesting, Jack balanced on the banister rail, then climbed on to Robert’s shoulders. Jack was nimble and light and Robert was bigger and sturdier, so it was easy enough for the two boys. Balancing himself carefully, Jack began to feel his way across the ceiling, ordering poor Robert to walk left and right, while Robert, with his head down, held Jack’s ankles, and tried to stop himself trembling with fear.

At length, Jack found what he was looking for – his hands touched on a square shape recessed into the ceiling plaster. This was the opening, but there must be some kind of a spring somewhere. Jack pushed and tested, and heard something clicking. Excited, he pushed with all his force, and suddenly the ceiling panel opened, and Jack came tumbling down off Robert and the pair of them collapsed in a noisy heap on the floor.

Jack looked up – there was the way into the Magus’s Chamber.

‘We’ll be caught now,’ said Robert. ‘We’ll wake the Creature.’

Robert scrambled up and ran back into the boys’ bedchamber and flung himself into bed. No one seemed to be awake but Crispis.

‘Robert! Come back! You have to help me!’ said Jack, but Robert absolutely would not get out of bed.

‘Did you find the way in?’ asked Crispis, appearing on the landing.

‘Yes, but I can’t reach it without Robert,’ said Jack, in despair.

‘Reach what?’ said William, and Jack was not pleased to see that William too was awake. But it was too late now, and William was also on the landing, staring up at the opening.

‘I will help you,’ he said. ‘You can climb on my shoulders. I am nearly as tall as Robert.’

Now Jack did not want to do this, but he knew he had to do something, so, holding his doubts at bay so as not to disturb his mind and let in the Magus, Jack climbed up on William’s shoulders, reached into the opening, and hauled himself up with all his strength.

It was dark.

But what was the ‘it’ that was dark?

Jack had exactly the same feeling as he had had in the well, when he’d wondered if he had been swallowed by a whale, and at the same instant he remembered what Robert had said about how the house didn’t really exist, but that they were all living inside the Magus.

‘No,’ said Jack involuntarily to himself.

He took a tinderbox from his pocket and struck a light. The room lit up, and in the flare Jack saw a desk with a candlestick on it. He lit the candle and looked about him.

The room was not a room at all . . .