Doubleborn (27 page)

“Don’t call me that,” she said. “I’m Ash. Understand?”

“How did you get here?” asked Sam.

He was speaking to her face to face at last. He didn’t know how he felt. Not fear, but something more elusive.

Ash put her hand to the frame of the mirror.

“Do you need to ask, boy?” she said.

“You should be in Boolat,” said Flaxfold. “Locked away.”

“Indeed,” said Ash. “Come with me.”

She spread her arms, pursed her lips and blew.

The room filled with smoke.

She blew again.

The smoke cleared.

The room was transformed. It was twenty, thirty times as big, round and tall, the roof open to the sky. A huge chimney.

“Just like home,” said Ash.

“Sam,” said Flaxfold. “You have to try now. This may be the moment that all was leading towards. From the day that Flaxfield took you in as his apprentice. From the day he died and we cast him to the river to take away. This may be what you were made for.”

Ash opened her arms to him.

“Try me, boy,” she said. “Try your magic. You’ve seen what mine can do.”

Sam leaned his staff on the floor. He swept his cloak back to free his arms. He steadied himself on firm feet.

He cleared his mind and thought what substance Ash could be made of, where he could attack her. Slowin had been fire. Fire had remade Slowin. Sam would not use that.

He drew a line on the floor with the tip of his shoe. He scraped his foot back and stamped.

A spring of clear water bubbled up. Sam directed it with his staff. It ran towards Ash, gathering speed and strength. By the time it reached her it was a flood, surging over her.

She held her head high, let it roll back and allowed the water to sweep over her. The torrent was strong enough to uproot an elm. Ash stood firm. She put her hands in front of her, palms together. The water divided and passed her, and as it passed it turned to bright flame, licked the curved wall and ran up and out of the round opening at the top.

“You are the old magic,” she said. “Wasted. Wanting. It will be a kindness to kill you.”

Starback settled on the roof of Flaxfold’s house, folded his wings and looked down the slope to the river.

Sam had gone. Perhaps dead. Perhaps so damaged by the switch through the mirror that he would never be part of Starback again.

The dragon crept along the eaves and slipped into the house through an open window. It was so clean, so bright, so nicely jumbled with the objects of everyday life. Starback curled up in an armchair, tucked his tail under his chin and stared at the carved oak dresser. The armchair smelled of Sam, and of Flaxfold, of soap and sleep. Underneath all the other layers of people in the house Flaxfield’s distinctive scent remained; the persistence of memory.

Starback missed Flaxfield. The old wizard had brought him here when Sam was a sad child, and Flaxfield had made them friends.

Nothing had been right since Flaxfield had gone, and without him nothing could ever be right again.

He had lost Flaxfield, but he had Sam. Now he had lost Sam as well, and he had nothing but himself.

Sleep would take away the sadness, but sleep would not come. ||

Sam had wondered what it would be like to be dead, and now he was going to find out.

Smedge hugged himself with pleasure. His shape ran through the gallery of creatures he had been in his journey from slime to servant of Ash. Sam’s eyes were dazzled by the speed and variety. Like flicking the pages of a book of pictures. Ash clicked her fingers and scowled. Smedge formed into something like his school self, only taller and in the black jerkin and boots of a soldier.

Sam saw that Ash was excited. She was trying to be calm, to seem like a teacher controlling a class. But, as a nervous child will pick at its fingernails, Ash snapped off the tip of her finger and sucked at the bleeding end. It was a chance, a weakness, an opportunity.

Or it may have been.

Ash dropped the finger end on the floor, crushed it under her foot and said, “Enough.” She raised her hands so that the sleeves of her gown fell back, revealing her arms. She opened her palms towards them and began to chant.

Sam felt his hands grow cold. Then he could not feel his hands at all. The staff fell to the floor. His head was heavy. His legs trembled. He leaned back against the wall to stop himself from falling.

He put out his hand to Tamrin, thinking her strength might strengthen him. She was as damaged as he was. Her face was grey and flaking. The skin peeled off like paint from a weathered door.

“Slowin!”

Sam recognized the voice. He couldn’t remember where he had heard it last.

“What are you doing?”

Sam’s head cleared.

The old storeman from the college stood near to Ash.

Sam gave himself over to despair. Just an old man who stumbled into trouble. Another one for Ash to kill.

Vengeabil brought his staff down in a vicious swipe, breaking Ash’s arms.

The spell faltered and failed. Sam could feel his hands again. He recovered his feet and stood upright.

Ash snarled. Smedge tried to punch Vengeabil. The old man struck him in the face with his staff.

“Don’t raise your arm to me, boy.”

“No magic, now,” warned Flaxfold.

Vengeabil smiled at her.

“Always cautious, Flaxfold,” he said.

Ash’s arms grew back under her sleeves. Sam sighed. Nothing could stop her.

“Try this,” said Smith.

He lunged at Ash and smashed his hammer down towards her head.

His words alerted her. She clicked her tongue. The hammer stopped, inches from her skull, and bounced off, out of Smith’s hand and crashed through the window, clattering on the cobbled street below.

“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing can stop me. Nothing.”

She smiled and leaned forward, confidentially.

“Do you know,” she told them, “there was someone who could. Someone who had magic enough to work, even here, even with the mirror in the room. But he’s dead. He’s gone.”

“Flaxfield,” said Vengeabil.

“Of course. He’s gone and his magic has gone with him.”

Flaxfold put her hands on the shoulders of Sam and Tamrin and spoke to Ash. “Flaxfield sealed you in Boolat,” she said. “Remember?”

“And I’ve escaped.” She expanded in triumph. “Escaped.”

“Seal her,” Flaxfold said, in a low voice.

Ash heard.

“What?”

Vengeabil hurried towards Flaxfold.

“What? You have the seal?”

Flaxfold indicated the weight tied around Tamrin’s neck.

“This will stop her,” he said.

Vengeabil grabbed it.

“Don’t,” shouted Ash.

It wasn’t there.

“I’ve got it,” said Sam. He closed his hand around it.

It wasn’t there.

Vengeabil tried again.

It wasn’t there.

Sam felt the weight at his throat.

Ash laughed.

“The magic has left you,” she said. “It’s my turn. Magic has its seasons, and yours has gone.”

Flaxfold steered Tamrin and Sam into the middle of the room.

“Your season died many, many years ago, Slowin,” she said. “You stole another’s.”

“Perhaps I did.” Ash looked delighted. “Or perhaps I only understood what it was to have a new season. But I won.”

“Years and years in that filthy prison?” said Flaxfold. “Do you call that winning?”

“No,” she screamed. “No. But this is. Freedom again. And you can’t seal me back there. Not now. I’ll kill you all and take the seal and then I’ll be free to do as I please.”

Taking care not be reflected in it herself, Flaxfold moved Sam and Tamrin in front of the mirror.

“And when I’m free,” Ash hissed, “then you’ll have to watch out.” She pointed to them, one by one. “You, boy, and you, girl. And you, old woman. All of you. You’ll wish you were dead when I get to you.”

“You’ll never escape,” said Sam.

Ash snarled.

“I’m already out,” she said. “And soon I’ll be free to come and go. And your magic will be dead alongside you. Then the world will see what magic can do.”

Ash reached out to grab the seal from Tamrin’s throat.

But Tamrin wasn’t there.

And Sam wasn’t there.

“Flaxfield,” said Vengeabil.

Just as sleep was folding its wings over Starback he snapped awake.

Flaxfield.

He rushed from the armchair, through the door and leaped into the air’s embrace.

He could see a room, a mirror, a roffle, a schoolboy, Flaxfold, the smith and his daughter, Smedge and grey-gowned Ash.

He couldn’t see Tamrin or Sam.

He could see himself, Flaxfield, reflected in the mirror, his hand at his throat, clutching the seal tied there with the leather cord.

He was Flaxfield reflected. But he felt Sam, and more than Sam, other than Sam.

No matter. He flew at full speed, through the late night and coming dawn to a village, a narrow street, a tailor’s shop.

Flaxfield tore the seal from his throat, snapping the cord.

Ash sent a bolt of fire straight at him.

He brushed it aside with casual disdain.

Ash tried to turn and run out, and he took her arm, twisted her around and pushed the seal to her forehead.

Her face crumpled and became the face of an old man, tired, near to death.

“Slowin,” he said. “You’re going back.”

He threw her across the room and she fell to her knees in front of the mirror.

The grey dress was smoke. It curled up, taking her with it. A draught from the mirror sucked the smoke in. In no time Ash had disappeared behind the shining surface. The room was itself again and seemed strangely crowded now.

“Flaxfield,” said Smith.

Flaxfield had gone too. Tamrin and Sam stood side by side, the seal between them on the floor.

And so had Smedge and Tim, crept away while the others watched Ash leave.

Flaxfold veiled the mirror.

“I’ll take care of this now,” she said.

“I’ve been searching for it for years,” said Smith. “It should go with me.”

“Let the young ones decide,” said Winny.

“It goes with Flaxfold,” said Tamrin.

Vengeabil put his arm round her shoulders. From his other hand a dribble of stars fell from the finger ends to the floor. A small, old cat licked them up and rubbed its head against his legs.

“It’s been a long time, Cabbage,” said Flaxfold. “It’s good to see you.”

“I’m hungry,” said Solder. He hitched his barrel on to his back. “Can we get something to eat?”

The window crashed inwards and a green and blue gale rushed through, swept over their heads and settled itself on the top of the mirror.

Tamrin felt a surge of exaltation and knew what it was to be dragon and boy.

Sam, in his delight to be Starback again, gave Tamrin the same freedom and received it back.

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

They looked at themselves in Starback.

“Go and eat,” he shouted. “We’ll see you later.”

They ran out of the room and down the stairs. Starback soared through the broken window, out into the early morning.

“We’re going to fly,” said Tamrin, disappearing through the door.

“Breakfast?” said Solder.

Flaxfold and Vengeabil together made a strong spell of sealing on the door at the top of the stairs and at the front door; they sealed the broken window as well. Nothing could get in or out. Not a person, not a roffle, not a kravvin. ||

and flung a garland of mushrooms on the counter top.

“These are all good to eat,” she said.

Jaimar’s shop was crowded already, and Sam and Tamrin added to the crush. Starback took one look and scampered up the shelves behind the counter.

“I can cook them,” offered Tamrin. “You’re all eating already.”

Her face was glowing. She couldn’t keep still. She scooped up the mushrooms again, so many that they spilled out from her hands. She threw the ones she had up into the air, spun round and clapped her hands. All of them, the ones that had fallen, and the ones that she had thrown, formed a circle in the air over the table and then, like a skein of geese, travelled in line to settle in a bowl on the counter.

Tamrin laughed. She looked at Flaxfold, and at Vengeabil, unsure which of them she should ask.

“That’s all right, isn’t it?” she said. “Just a little magic?”

They spoke together.

“Under the circumstances,” said Vengeabil.

“Just this once,” said Flaxfold.

“I’ll cook them for you,” said Jaimar.

“I can do it.”

“Sit down,” she said. “Take some bacon. I won’t be long. There’s wizard talk they’re waiting to share and they need me out of the way.”

Sam and Tamrin joined the others at the tables.

The bacon was thick and salty. The eggs were fresh. Solder offered them bread and made room.

Food had never tasted so good. Not even the lemon curd that Vengeabil made. Tamrin chewed slowly, relishing every mouthful. She knew that the storeman was watching her, trying not to. She avoided his eye as much as she could.

Sam began the talk.

“Is she beaten now, Ash?” he asked.

“Wounded,” said Flaxfold.

“Weakened,” said Vengeabil.

He pointed to the seal at Sam’s throat.

“We’ve strengthened the magic that locked her up,” he said. “It may last a hundred years. Or ten. Or one. I don’t know.”

Tamrin listened, but it wasn’t the thing she was most interested in.

“Smedge,” she said. “Where’s he?”

“Back to Boolat, I suppose,” said Vengeabil. “We shan’t see him back at the college.”

For the first time since she had run in a shadow crossed Tamrin’s face.

“I’m not going back there,” she said.

“You will,” he said. “Don’t you know who you are?”

It was the question.

And now she knew the answer.

“I’m him,” she said, pointing her fork at Sam. “And him,” pointing it at Starback.

“You are,” he agreed. “And you’re my apprentice, remember? You signed an agreement. You’re coming back to the college with me.”

“I’m never going there again,” she said. “Never.”