Sagaria (45 page)

“What about Snowmane?”

“Let’s leave him where he is. He should be safe in the stables, he’s just one more horse there. Out in the Everwoods, he’ll only draw attention to us.”

“True.” She looked thoughtful as they crept toward the Tunnel of Love’s
entrance, keeping close to the wall as if the shadows might be able to absorb them should anyone come. “We may never see Snowmane again,” she added as the light of the opening came into view.

“Then we’ll just have to resign ourselves to that,” Sagandran whispered with finality. “Remember what you made me promise? Well, that applies to Snowmane as well. Now, you wait here for a moment while I check that the coast is clear.”

Samzing’s face was slowly recovering its color. Sir Tombin had finally managed to haul him aboard as the Great and Wondrous Ship lurched uncontrollably through the sky. Its course had become far more stable now, but they still had no means of directing it. Wherever the caprice of the winds might take them, that was where they had to go. Finding Sagandran and Perima under these circumstances was an impossibility. Even if they were somehow lucky enough to spot their two friends from above, they had no way of reaching them.

“I’ve got an idea,” piped Flip.

The wizard raised a weary eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Your robe, you don’t need it; we could rig it up as a sail.”

“Little chap,” said Samzing, “there are secrets a wizard must never reveal, and you are asking me to reveal to the world some of the most secret of all of them.”

Sir Tombin, despite their plight, laughed. Flip looked baffled.

“If you wore undergarments like the ones he does,” explained the Frogly Knight, “you’d rather die too, than take off your robe. I hadn’t realized this until I saved him as this extraordinary vessel rose from its mooring.”

Flip looked as grim as someone as small as him could look. “Would he rather Perima and Sagandran died too?”

“That won’t be necessary,” said the wizard lazily. “I have a much better solution.”

“What?” said Flip and Sir Tombin together, turning toward him.

“Spill it out, old bean,” added the Frogly Knight.

“A spell.”

“Like the last one?” Flip’s voice dripped with cynicism. “You’ll release a host of fire imps so that we crash to the ground in an inferno?”

“No, nothing like that. This one’s a seeking spell.”

“A seeking spell?” repeated Sir Tombin dubiously.

“Yes,” said the wizard, gathering himself as if to rise to his feet, then obviously
thinking better of it. “You tell the spell who it is you want to be with, or where you want to be, and it takes you there.”

“Just like that?” said Flip. “One moment you’re here, the next you’re—?”

The wizard waved the question away. “No, not like that at all. The spell, well, it sort of pulls you there. If you were on foot, you’d find yourself walking in the right direction, or with a sudden impulse to board a stagecoach, or whatever. In our present situation, the spell will drag this balloon to the place where our two young friends now are, wherever that might be.”

Flip was impressed.

“However, there is a drawback,” continued the wizard.

Flip went back to being unimpressed.

“Not so much a drawback, really,” said Samzing hastily, “as a wrinkle that has to be sorted out in advance. Not any insuperable problem.”

Sir Tombin coughed. “Really?”

“Yes, really. You have to be very precise, you see, in the instructions you give the spell. If you told it to find ‘Perima,’ for example, it would try to go in the direction of each and every Perima in Sagaria at once. It’d literally pull this balloon apart as it tried to obey your orders. What you have to do is spell out exactly who it is you want to be with, making absolutely sure there can be no misunderstanding. I don’t know how many Sagandrans there might be in this world at the moment, and there might even be more than one Sagandran Sacks. But I’m certain, at least I hope I am, that there cannot be more than one ‘Princess Royal of Mattani, Her Excellency the Princess Perima.’ You see what I mean?”

“Aha!” said Sir Tombin.

“Hm,” said Flip with lesser confidence. “What happens if the spell goes wrong?”

“What happens if I don’t try at all?” The wizard’s eyes regarded him intently from under lowered brows.

That stopped the words Flip was about to speak before he could speak them.

He nodded slowly. “True. We’ve got to try to save them, even if it means the death of us.”

“No need for all this gloominess,” said Samzing, suddenly filled with energy and optimism. This time when he tried to get to his feet, he succeeded. His legs were still shaking noticeably under him, but so long as he kept one hand clamped on the rim of the basket, he seemed safe enough. “The searching spell is one of the most reliable known to wizardhood. It’s been tried and tested over the centuries by the fraternity at Qarnapheeran, and its rate of success has been
nearly one hundred percent.”

Flip didn’t like the sound of that “nearly,” but made no comment.

“Is there anything we should do to assist you?” asked Sir Tombin earnestly.

“No, my dear old friend, nothing at all. This should be, if you’ll pardon the expression, a breeze for me.”

The wizard now gripped the edge of the basket tightly with both hands. He stared out toward a flock of inquisitive-looking clouds and proclaimed, as if to them, “
Crynassas! Supertuberus! Calabladderonus! Bandreebathwoip!
”

He peeked down at Flip. “Total balderdash, you understand, but it concentrates the mind wonderfully.”

“But will it work?” Flip squeaked up at him.

“Of course it will. Probably. We’ll see.”

All three waited anxiously. Then, slowly at first but with increasing certainty, the balloon turned and began to move against the wind.

Hours later, Perima and Sagandran were still roaming the streets. Getting out of Wonderville was more difficult than it had seemed when they’d been talking about it in the Tunnel of Love. The Shadow Knights had the town efficiently cordoned off, and plenty were combing the place while the others presumably did the same in the forest. The streets were far emptier than they’d been before. Much of the populace seemed to have been interned in a camp the Shadow Knights had built on Wonderville’s outskirts, while others were cowering either inside their homes or in any of the countless public buildings and entertainment facilities. More than once, Perima and Sagandran had been forced to bolt into a doorway or down an alley or to crouch under a parked cart to avoid the attentions of the armored men who rode the streets. For all the two of them knew, there were others prowling on foot (if the term “on foot” could be applied to that curious floating motion). At least the riders could be heard coming, as their horses’ hooves clattered along the hard surface of the thoroughfares. The Shadow Knights not on horseback could move silently, and almost as quickly.

The fires had mostly been doused and the streets were largely clear of smoke, though every now and then a billow of it would fly into the faces of the two fugitives. The smoke seemed to affect Perima far more than it did Sagandran, and he watched her worriedly each time she succumbed to a fresh outbreak of coughing and sneezing. As the afternoon wore on, the search within the city seemed to be intensifying. They paused to catch their breath in a long, winding
alleyway. The sound of hoofbeats seemed to be coming from all around them, a dire tattoo of threat.

“It sounds like they’re everywhere,” gasped Perima.

Sagandran looked frantically around them. The alley was overlooked by windows on either side, but he wasn’t worried about those. The way was so narrow that it would be almost impossible for observers up there to see anything at ground level. There was no visible means of concealment in sight except for the occasional mound of garbage. Even if he and Perima hid among those, it would be easy for any Shadow Knight who came along to trample the larger piles under his horse’s hooves. Sagandran and Perima would be completely exposed if anyone thought to seek them there.

Not if.
When
.

“We’ve got to keep moving. It’s our only hope.”

Perima shrugged her acquiescence. She heaved off the wall against which she’d been leaning and followed him as, blotting out the protests of his weary legs, he tore along the alley.

The way was straight for a while, then crooked left just before reaching a broader street, across which they dashed. After another straight stretch, the alley bent left again and they had to cross a street, and the pattern repeated once more.

“Stop,” panted Sagandran, holding up a hand.

Perima sank gratefully to her knees beside him.

“We’re just going round in a circle. No wonder this alleyway seemed so long. It must run in a ring around the center of the city. We’ve got to get off it, even if that means being on one of the main streets for a while.”

There was a nod of agreement from Perima.

At the next junction, they turned right toward the outskirts of Wonderville and tried to make themselves as unobtrusive as possible. They ambled along with forced casualness in front of broken shop windows and signs telling them the way to the Thrill-a-Minute Giant Carousel, the Most Terrifying Ghost Train in All the Known World, and other attractions. Most of these, Sagandran thought morosely, were now probably smoldering mounds of rubble. So much for Lamarod’s dream.

“There’s something wrong here,” said Perima out the corner of her mouth.

“Too many Shadow Knights, just for starters,” responded Sagandran. Why was she bothering to state the obvious?

“What’s that up in front of us?” She nodded in the direction they were heading.

It took him a moment to realize what she meant. Punctuating the shrouded
sky was the upright needle of Wonderville’s central peppermint tower.

“But—” he cried, then clamped his lips together firmly.
Keep your voice down. Don’t draw attention to us.

“Exactly,” said Perima quietly. “When we set off, we were going toward the edge of town. There can be no doubt about it, but still we seem to be heading toward the center.”

Sagandran thought furiously. Wonderville appeared to be a trap in more ways than one. It must have been constructed so that its streets formed a sort of labyrinth – a four-dimensional labyrinth, knotting in and around and over each other in a way his rational mind rejected as impossible. It was a good thing he’d left his rational mind far behind him not long after he’d entered Sagaria, otherwise he’d have well and truly lost it now. Lamarod must have designed the city so that, once lured into Wonderville, fun-seekers would find it almost impossible to leave. Sagandran found his sympathies for the mayor ebbing slightly.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of rapidly approaching hooves.

“Flee!” yelled Perima.

A horseman galloped toward them from the direction of the peppermint tower.

They sprinted away from the Shadow Knight, who gave a frenzied shout as soon as they began to run. An open doorway beckoned. As he followed Perima in, Sagandran just had time to notice this had once been a shop selling crazy automata. The clown faces of the dolls in the starred window seemed unspeakably miserable now.

The pair of them stumbled over various obstacles that were half hidden in the dimly-lit shop as they pushed toward the rear of the store, their terrified breathing loud in their ears. There was some kind of office at the back, with what looked like account ledgers scattered over a desk and the floor. It had clearly been ransacked, and not long ago. They charged straight through the mess of papers, trying not to slip on the treacherous surface.

A back door!

It was bolted, and Perima fumbled for what seemed like an eternity with the uncooperative bolts.

There were crashes and bangs behind them in the main part of the shop. The Shadow Knight must have tried to ride his horse in after them, but it wouldn’t be long before he saw the senselessness of this and dismounted. Then he’d be after them, stalking them silently.

At last, the final bolt shot open. Perima gave a yelp of pain as the metal pierced the soft flesh of the heel of her hand. Bright blood oozed as she put the
wound to her mouth, but there was no time to worry about it now. They spilled out into another of Wonderville’s confusing alleyways. There was no way of telling if they’d been here before; the city’s narrow back streets all looked much the same.