Sagaria (89 page)

That night, there was a great ball in the Palace of Spectram, and throughout most of it Queen Mirabella danced with Sir Tombin Quackford, the fairest knight in all the land. Sagandran, watching in between bouts of standing on Perima’s toes, saw how the two of them seemed to melt together – Mirabella with her beauty and grace, and the tall man who gently led her in the royal dance.

“Stop looking at them,” hissed Perima. “Look at me.”

So he did.

When Sagandran awoke the next morning, the sun was high above Spectram, its light pouring into his bedroom. He blinked against the glare a few times, then swung his legs out of bed.

A tremendous commotion was coming from outside his window.

Throwing the casement open, he leaned out and saw that there were crowds in the main square, cheering and laughing as the two opposomes who’d traveled here from Reversa struggled to establish the stability of what was obviously a new and improved – and certainly much larger – version of the Great and Wondrous Ship that Sails Through the Air. Just to add to the opposomes’ difficulties, Flip was excitedly helping them.

Something made Flip turn and look up to the window. He waved at Sagandran and beckoned. Sagandran fought his way into his clothes and hurried down through the palace, taking the stairs two and three at a time. By the time
he’d pushed his way through the mob to greet his little friend, the opposomes had nearly finished their task.

“What’s happening?” he cried.

Flip could hardly stay still. “Willfram and the Great Inventor—Queen Mirabella said she’d organized—what’s happening is—don’t you think this is the most excitingest thing there ever was? Oh, I wish I could take you all with—and then afterwards they’re going to—”

Sagandran, laughing, held out his hand as if he were going to place it over Flip’s mouth. “Calm down a bit and tell it to me straight.”

Steadying himself on the edge of the airship’s basket, Flip explained that Queen Mirabella had arranged with the opposomes that they’d fly him back to Mishmash. More than that, Flip had told them during the party the night before about the companions’ adventures in the Junk Mountains, and the opposomes’ ears had pricked up. What the Great Inventor was always running out of, they’d explained, wasn’t ideas for more inventions but the materials with which to build them. Also, it was a matter of straightforward common sense that sometimes, when the Great Inventor saw a pile of things that had been designed for other purposes, they gave him an idea about how they could be assembled in a novel and unimagined configuration to create a wholly new, brand spankingly new original device.

In short, the Junk Mountains sounded like a paradise brought to ground to the Great Inventor and his eager apprentice Willfram.

“So, the plan is that they’re going to take me home via the Junk Mountains, where maybe, you know, we’ll pick up a few things just as samples for them to take home to Reversa. Then it’s on to Mishmash! They’ve promised that we can visit each other lots and lots, and any time I want to go anywhere in the whole of Sagaria they’ll come and pick me up in …” Flip paused for breath, “… the Even Greater and Doubly Wondrous Ship that Simply
Whooshes
Through the Air!”

Sagandran couldn’t help grinning, even though in his heart he knew that Flip would be enjoying all of these new adventures without him. Before he had time to become maudlin, someone tapped his shoulder. He turned and, for a moment, he failed to recognize the person who’d interrupted his rather one-sided conversation with Flip.

“Sir Tombin!”

“None other.”

“And Queen Mirabella!”

Dressed in the clothes of a commoner rather than the tokens of majesty, Mirabella looked lovelier than ever. She blushed prettily, glancing sidelong at
the knight beside her.

Sir Tombin’s smile faded. “It’ll soon be the time for departures,” he said, “for sad farewells and promises. I cannot say I’m much looking forward to it.”

Sagandran felt the beginnings of tears sting the backs of his eyes. He looked down at the ground, and the sounds of the crowd milling around them became muffled and distant.

“Neither am I.”

Sir Tombin’s gulp still had a vaguely amphibian timbre. “But you’ll be coming back to Sagaria often, I trust, young fellow-me-lad,” he said. “You and your Grandpa Melwin.”

“Of course. Whenever we can slip away. The other people of the Earthworld aren’t ready to learn about Sagaria and the Shadow World yet, so we’ll have to be pretty surreptitious about our visits, but Grandpa Melwin can manage anything.”

“So can you, Sagandran,” said Mirabella. “So can you.”

There was a fresh outburst of laughter from the crowd. Flip jumped up onto Sagandran’s shoulder as Sagandran led Sir Tombin and Queen Mirabella through the press of people to find out what was going on.

A clearing had opened up in the crowd to make room for Samzing, who was scampering around on the cobblestones and appeared to be chasing something invisible. No, not invisible. Squinting, Sagandran could just make it out.

A button.

A small black button, jouncing hither and thither like a jumping bean.

At last, Samzing was able to snatch the fugitive out of the air. The oath he muttered as he did so seemed to crackle like the first lightning of a thunderstorm, and Sagandran fully expected a few children and some of the more sensitive women to swoon.

The wizard looked up and saw Sagandran and the others watching them. “Oops, sorry about that, Your Majesty.”

Queen Mirabella had turned pale, but managed a giggle. “Not at all, good wizard. I’ve had occasion to serve my country as a warrior queen, and I’ve heard far worse than that in the barracks. Just not very often.”

“You’re very gracious, Your Majesty.” The wizard stood for a moment with his head bowed, then became his usual frenetic self again. “These infernal magic buttons. I’m just lucky that this one wasn’t holding up my trousers when it decided that it needed a little excursion.”

“Um, Samzing?”

“Yes, Sagandran.”

“What is holding your trousers up?”

The wizard’s eyed him. “That, young man, is a very good question. I wish you hadn’t asked it, but it’s a very good question nevertheless.

“Now,” he continued, “before I forget, I have here somewhere a present I bought for you earlier this morning.” He rummaged in his robes. “I know I had it just a moment ago.”

Sagandran heard Sir Tombin and Queen Mirabella whispering behind him.

“He never answered Sagandran’s question,” she said.

“It’s because under his robes, he doesn’t have trousers on at all, my love.”

“Oh.”

“Aha!” cried Samzing in triumph. “Here it is.”

He came over to Sagandran and showed him a small, mud-colored pebble lying in his palm. “This is for you.”

“Oh wow, Samzing,” said Sagandran, keeping the puzzlement out of his voice. “It’s just what I’ve always wanted.”

Samzing looked down his nose at him. “Sarcastic little pup, aren’t you? This is a Stone of Argus, and it possesses a very special magic. They’re extremely expensive, but fortunately I was able to get a bit of a discount on this one – a perk of being Grand Master of the Spectran Guild of Magery, don’t you know. One of the advantages of my, ahem, promotion. Just don’t look at it too closely and you’ll never know that I didn’t pay full price for it.”

“What does it do?” said Sagandran, accepting it gingerly.

“When you rub it, it’ll take you somewhere you really want to be but can’t get to in person at that moment.”

“I don’t have to mutter any sorcerous incantations or anything?”

“No. Just rub it and wish.”

“Okay if I try it now?”

“Be my guest.”

Sagandran rubbed the surface of the pebble with his thumb, and he suddenly found himself back at home in the Earthworld in the living room of his family’s apartment – at number 36 Waterslab Street, to be precise. There was a sound at the door, then it opened to reveal his mother carrying a couple of carrier bags. She was looking sour and fed up, then her eyes widened. Just for a second, Sagandran thought she was looking at him, then he realized that there was a man standing next to him.

Dad!

“Hamish. What brings you here?” said Mom bitterly.

Sagandran wasn’t sure that he should be listening to the long explanation that followed, let alone witnessing Dad bursting into tears and Mom likewise (as soon as he’d got his hands on a dictionary and looked up “withies” he was 
going to have to check out “trollop” and a few other words as well). But the upshot was that Mom made a big show of telling Dad that she could never, ever, ever forgive him for the dreadful things he’d done, and then promptly did so. As Sagandran faded slowly back to the crowded square in Spectram, the image remained in his mind’s eye of Dad and Mom putting their arms around each other and promising never to let themselves be separated again.

He was grinning so widely that he thought the top of his head might fall off.

Queen Mirabella leaned close to him and spoke softly. “You know, Sagandran, sometimes people just have to spend some time apart if they’re going to try to sort out the problems they have with each other. Imagine you’re walking along with a friend – a good friend. You’re chatting away nineteen to the dozen, telling jokes and laughing. Then you come to a fork in the road. One of you wants to go one way, the other wants to go the other. Either you could argue about it, maybe have a fight, or you could both just agree each to take the road you wanted to take, the one that is best for you. You know you’ll be meeting again soon enough, if that’s the way it all works out, but for the moment you have to go the two different ways. Sooner or later, you’ll find that you’re back on the same road. You just don’t know exactly when that’ll be.”

“That’s almost word for word what Mom said to me, not long before—” he exclaimed, then interrupted himself. “How did you know that?”

Queen Mirabella smiled enigmatically. “We have our ways,” was all she said.

Another thought occurred to Sagandran. “Mom must be worried sick by now, with me being gone so long without calling her. Maybe she’ll have got the cops in and—”

“There’s no need to worry, Sagandran. We can return you and your grandfather to where you were in the Earthworld just a few hours after you departed it to come here. You still have the rest of your summer vacation left.”

Before he could quiz her further, the people in the crowd parted. Through the passage they formed with their bodies came Snowmane with Perima on his back.

Perima. The farewell that Sagandran was looking forward to least.

To take his mind off it, he made a great fuss of the stallion, patting Snowmane’s head and putting his cheek next to the horse’s.

“Spread your wings for me one last time,” he whispered and, as people stumbled back, Snowmane did so.

“A gentleman,” said Perima from above him, “would offer a lady a hand down from her horse.”

Sagandran looked everywhere around him in mock confusion.

“But Queen Mirabella’s not riding a horse,” he said.

Dodging a well-aimed foot, he reached up and Perima slid into his arms.

Who cared if a crowd were watching them, not to mention a full-blown queen? He hugged Perima closer to him than he ever thought was possible then, leaning his head forward a little, kissed her.

Or was it she who kissed him?

He’d work that one out later.

“Before you ask,” she said when they finally surfaced for air, “it’s because I’ve got some dust in my eyes, okay?”

“Same dust as I’ve got in mine,” he said gently.

After lunch, Perima and Sagandran were walking hand in hand through the gardens when the comfortable silence between them was broken by an unpleasantly familiar voice.

Webster O’Malley’s voice.

“Um, Sagandran.”

If it hadn’t been for the voice, Sagandran might have taken a moment to recognize him. The usual arrogant smirk was gone, and in its place was a sort of tentative humility quite alien to the bully who Sagandran had once known.

“I heard they saved you,” said Sagandran warily, instinctively moving to put himself between Webster and Perima.