SandRider (21 page)

Suddenly the voice of Morwenna hissed in Tod's ear, sharp against the blur of the
Hum
. “You're a little fool,” she said. “You should know better than to ally yourself to two sprites. If it wasn't for the sorcerer I would throw you in as well.” Tod looked up and saw a flicker of enjoyment cross the Witch Mother's face, and she understood that the witches were playing with them in the way a cat plays with a mouse. A wave of anger replaced the fear and Tod swung around and landed a wild punch somewhere in the middle of the vast softness beneath Morwenna's thick green cloak. Morwenna reeled backward, the
Hum
turned to a gasp and the two nearest witches broke the circle to catch their Witch Mother before she fell to the ground. They were a fraction too late and Morwenna's bulk brought them crashing down with her.

The Circle was broken and with it the power it was casting over the witches. Many began to realize the enormity of what they had been about to do. Some hugged each other in dismay
and others stood with their hands over their faces, staring at the fire through their fingers.

As Tod, Ferdie and Oskar made a dash for the break in the circle, Morwenna Mould's voice echoed around the quarry: “Stop them! Stop them!” But no one rushed to obey. The three reached the gap and as two of the older witches made a halfhearted move to grab them, a tiger leaped out of nowhere. It stood snarling, its teeth bared, its yellow eyes glittering in the light of the fire, daring anyone to move.

Under the shocked gaze of the Wendron Witch Coven, the tiger escorted the two Snow Sprites and the Apprentice away from the circle. Not one witch raised so much as a finger. Even when a cry of “I said stop them, you fools!” came from their beached Witch Mother, no one moved. Silently the broken Witch Circle watched the tiger escort their three ex-captives across the quarry floor. They had just reached the gap in the rock where the path led up to the Forest when the Apprentice turned and ran back. The two Snow Sprites tried to stop her but she ignored them.

The witches shrank back. What
Darke Magyk
was the Apprentice about to visit upon them? Even the Witch Mother, who was now back on her feet and propped up by Bryony
and Madron, did no more than watch warily. But all the Apprentice did was pick up the ropes of the two sleds, then turn and walk away, pulling the sleds behind her.

As she headed toward the waiting tiger that was guarding her friends, Tod felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck—she was being followed. Tod had a small
Celebrate Charm
in her Apprentice belt. Septimus had given it to her that morning. It was, he had insisted, to be used only if she won the race. But Tod hoped Septimus would understand her disobedience. Suddenly, she swung around to face the Coven. It was just like Grandmother's Footsteps. The witches who had been rapidly creeping up behind her froze. With one fluid movement, Tod took the
Charm
from her belt and threw it up into the air, calling out the
Incantation
as she did so:
“To the Victor, the Spoils!”

The
Charm
exploded into sparks, prickling and crackling red and green in the night air. It was beautiful, but to the witches, who had no idea what it was, it was terrifying. Overexcited by too much
Screaming
and the prospect of a sprite-burning, the witches scattered with shrieks of fear.

Morwenna Mould knew she was defeated. Left virtually alone in the Quarry—apart from Bryony, Madron and a few
of the older witches too creaky to run very fast, the Witch Mother watched her prey disappear into the gap between the rocks where the path led up into the Forest. Even if she had wanted to, there was no way Morwenna could follow them—she could no longer fit.

Morwenna spat on the ground in disgust. She was sure she knew who was behind this—the double-crossing, two-timing little trollop Marissa. Marissa would be sorry, she would make sure of that. And then, as Morwenna Mould stood fuming, a flash of gold in the trees at the top of the path caught her eye. She looked up and saw the distinctive red of the cloak of the Castle Queen, A surge of fury ran through her.

“Queen Jenna!” the Witch Mother yelled, her deep voice echoing around the quarry. “You will regret this. When you have a daughter I will come for her. You will never have a moment's peace. Never!”

Jenna looked down at the furious figure below, its squat shape silhouetted against the firelight. “You take on a Castle Queen at your peril, Morwenna Mould,” she muttered. Then, with the tiger at her side and her two witches on guard behind her, Jenna led Tod, Ferdie and Oskar through the nighttime Forest to the safety of Galen's treehouse.

PART VIII

T
HIRTY
-F
OUR
H
OURS TO
H
ATCHING

M
any years ago Galen had
taught the teenage Sarah Heap all that she knew about herbs and healing. Now Galen was elderly and frail and living an increasingly precarious life in her Forest treehouse. Sarah Heap worried about her much-loved old mentor and had decided to spend the winter looking after her, which was why Silas Heap, unwilling to let his wife brave the Forest on her own, had found himself spending an uncomfortable and boring winter up a tree eating what he described as “rabbit food.”

But that evening Silas was—as Sarah pointed out—smiling for a change. He had his daughter with him (who had arrived with two very pretty young witches) and he had just learned the wonderful news that his son Sam was back home. Both Silas and Sarah had feared they would never see
Sam again. Even though Silas could tell from Jenna's careful answers to Sarah's questions that Sam had been injured, he had great faith in the talents of Dandra Draa and her Sick Bay team. Just to know for the first time in four long years where Sam actually was that night was a tremendous relief to Silas. The icing on the cake was that tomorrow he and Sarah had a perfectly acceptable excuse to leave this cold, nut-strewn, shrew-infested treehouse and return to civilization. Even the shirt woven from smelly, unbelievably scratchy goat hair that Galen had given him for a MidWinter Feast Day present (and that Sarah made him wear so as not to hurt Galen's feelings) no longer itched quite so badly that night.

The largest group that the treehouse had played host to for some time was gathered around the fire basket, which was suspended above a circular hole in the middle of an open platform. Silas, Sarah, Galen, Jenna, Ariel, Star, Tod, Ferdie, Oskar and a yellow-eyed tiger were sitting on rugs strewn over the rough wooden planks. Silas threw another log on the fire and tongues of flame leaped up into the branches above.

“Careful, Silas!” Sarah shouted. “You'll burn us to the ground!”

Silas threw a bucket of water on the flames and watched
the glowing cinders drop through the fire basket to a huge pile of ash on the Forest floor far below. Then he took some skewers of meat from the outer embers of the fire and offered it to their guests. Galen pulled a face at the sight of what she called “flesh.”

“Anyone for roast squirrel?” Silas inquired cheerily.

Everyone, apart from Galen and a loyal Sarah, was very much for roast squirrel. Tod, Ferdie and Oskar were ravenous. Jim Knee—who Jenna had decided to keep as protection—eyed the tiny pieces of meat with disdain and slunk away. There was good hunting to be had in the Forest, he could smell it.

Tod gazed up into the dark tracery of branches above. She saw the moon riding high in the star-filled sky and a shiver ran through her as she remembered the last time she had looked at the moon through the trees. She glanced at Ferdie and Oskar, who were sitting wrapped in blankets, quietly talking to each other. Tod figured that they still didn't totally understand what had so very nearly happened to them. Which was, Tod thought, for the best.

At the end of supper Ariel and Star reluctantly got to their feet. “We must go now,” they said.

“Oh,
must
you?” Silas said, sounding very disappointed.

“You heard what they said, Silas,” Sarah snapped.

Ariel smiled at Silas. She liked his mischievous blue eyes. “We are sorry to leave you, Silas Heap. But it would not be good for us to be absent tonight.”

“No, it wouldn't,” said Sarah.

Jenna helped Ariel and Star drop the ladder down and handed them an extra gold coin each for their night's work. As they went she gave them a message for Septimus, telling him she, Tod, Oskar and Ferdie would be back the next morning. Jenna watched her witch spies descend the ladder, pleased with them and their night's work. She was still shocked by what had so very nearly happened. How right she had been to keep a close watch on the Wendrons, she thought. If she had not . . . Jenna shook her head to clear the thought from her mind. It did not bear thinking about.

Jenna returned to the fireside to see Galen taking a small brass tube from one of her many leafy pockets and handing it to
Sarah, saying excitedly, “You must see how well your wonderful gift works. It really is a genuine
WitchFinder
.”

Sarah took the tube and went to the edge of the platform where she put it to her eye like a telescope. Galen, slower on her feet, joined her. “Oh!” Sarah gasped under her breath. “I can see them both. Look, there's Ariel running . . . and Star just behind her. They blend into the night so well. You could never see them without this. Never. And did you know it shows their footprints, too?”

Galen smiled. “There's no hiding place for witches with a
WitchFinder
,” she murmured.

“It's amazing,” Sarah breathed. “I can see them all the way through the trees. Their cloaks kind of glow and the trees almost disappear.” She turned to Galen. “I'm so glad it works. You can never be sure when you buy at the Port
Magyk
Market.”

“I knew it worked when I caught sight of Morwenna a few nights ago,” Galen said, smiling.

“You don't need a fancy gadget to see Morwenna,” Silas commented, joining them. “She's what you might call obvious.”

“Silas, you are
so
rude!” Sarah sounded rather pleased.
There had been a time—many years ago now—when Silas had thought Morwenna Mould rather wonderful. And Morwenna had felt much the same about Silas. But those times were long past, as was the truce that had then existed between the Wendrons and the Castle. Sarah gave the
WitchFinder
back to Galen. “Galen, I do wish you would come back to the Castle with us,” she said. “It feels so much more dangerous than when I lived here.”

“Times change, Sarah dear. That was nearly thirty years ago.”

“Exactly,” Sarah said. “And you are not getting any younger.”

This did not go down well with Galen. “Be that as it may, Sarah Heap, I belong in the Forest and this is where I intend to stay. I will
not
be hounded out by a coven going to the bad.” Feeling that she had been a little harsh with Sarah, Galen added, “Anyway, dear, thanks to your
WitchFinder
I shall be well prepared for any trouble.”

The rest of the evening passed happily. It reminded Tod of the beach fire gatherings she, Oskar and Ferdie used to have at home in their PathFinder village. It ended in much the same way too, with people telling increasingly scary ghost stories
while the moon sank slowly, the night air began to bite and everyone's thoughts turned to how much warmer it would be in bed.

The accommodation in the treehouse consisted of a collection of pods made from woven willow branches bent into spheres and covered with fir fronds. They perched like huge nests high in the canopy of the three tall oaks and were connected by rope walkways and precarious arrangements of ladders and planks. Galen roosted like a large scruffy hen in a tiny pod precariously placed at the top of the middle, tallest oak. Silas and Sarah had one of the pods nearest the platform because Silas did not enjoy balancing along the ropewalks.

Galen now set about settling her guests for the night. She gave Jenna her own pod next to Silas and Sarah. Tod, Ferdie and Oskar, to their delight, were directed to a large pod high up in an outer oak, with its own platform and private ladder to the Forest floor.

The pod had a circular opening over which hung three wolverine skins. Inside it was knee-deep in dry leaves and moss on which was placed a neat pile of yet more wolverine skins and some brightly colored blankets that smelled of goat. The pod felt warm and safe, as indeed it was. Galen took care
that the outer branches of her three oaks never touched those of any other tree. Any creature that wished to invade the treehouse—right down to the smallest leaf leeches and tree shrews—must ascend the trunks and get past the rings of fiendishly sticky bark glue, which Galen had painted around her trees. And so Tod, Oskar and Ferdie had the luxury of being in the middle of the nighttime Forest while feeling perfectly secure.

Drained by the events of the day, Ferdie and Oskar wrapped themselves in the goat blankets, curled up in the soft, springy leaves and fell asleep at once. But Tod was not tired at all. Despite the terrifying experiences of the Witch Circle she was excited to be out in the Forest and away from the urban feel of the Castle. She sat in the entrance of the pod, looking out and thinking how good it was to be free from the rules and regulations of the Wizard Tower and back in the middle of nature once more. The fresh smell of the air, free from the damp moldiness of the Forest floor, made her feel wide-awake. Perching in the canopy of the Forest felt not unlike being out at sea. The swaying of the topmost branches in the breeze felt like the rocking motion of a small boat and set Tod wondering what her father, Dan Moon, was doing that very moment.
Was he out on a night fishing expedition watching the sky just as she was? Was he thinking of her right then, just as she was thinking of him? Tod longed to show Dan all she was doing and she hoped that one day soon, when all was safe from Oraton-Marr, he would be able to come through the Ancient Ways to the Castle once again.

Thinking of the sea reminded Tod that Galen had loaned her the
WitchFinder
for the night. “Keep a lookout for Morwenna Mould,” she had said. “She's up to something, mark my words.” Tod put the
WitchFinder
to her eye like a telescope and began to
Watch
the Forest.

It was strange seeing the Forest through the
WitchFinder
. The trees became quite insubstantial: their thick, dark trunks looked pale and gave the appearance of being almost transparent. In contrast Tod saw that the animals—and what a wonderful variety there was—were sharply defined, and seemed almost ultra real, as though someone had carefully drawn around them with a thick black pen. It was fascinating. Tod spent a happy ten minutes
Watching
a family of tree shrews fight over a supper of a large leaf leech and then, having dropped most of the creature onto the Forest floor, settle into their nest with much fussing and petulant nipping.

Slowly, Tod grew sleepy. She was about to reluctantly put the
WitchFinder
away when a faint green glow appeared on the edge of her circle of vision. Tod held her breath with excitement—
it was a witch
. She was coming along the path and she was heading this way. Remembering how Galen had twisted the thick brass cuff of the
WitchFinder
to get a close-up view, Tod did the same and found she was looking straight into the bright blue eyes of Marissa. She almost dropped the little brass tube in shock and was about to pull down the wolverine skin door flaps when she remembered that there was no way Marissa could see her. Tod was safely hidden in a pod at the top of the tree and was hundreds of yards away, which was way too far for even the most skillful of witches to
Feel
that she was being watched.

Fascinated, Tod
Watched
Marissa wind her way along the Forest path, the
WitchFinder
picking out the witch's cloak and making it glow a bright greenish yellow. Marissa was hurrying along the path, glancing over her shoulder every now and then, and it seemed to Tod that the witch feared she was being followed. Marissa was up to something, of that there was no doubt.

Soon Marissa was below, rushing past the broad foot of
the first of Galen's great oaks. The witch glanced upward and Tod held her breath, even though she was pretty sure that Marissa was more worried about being seen than seeing, for the witch pulled the hood of her cloak up and shrank into it as she hurried by.

Marissa hurried on through the trees and Tod was impressed by how silently she traveled. Sound from the Forest floor traveled easily upward, yet she heard not the faintest whisper of a footfall. As Marissa drew away and ever more trees obscured the view, the bright glow of her cloak in the
WitchFinder
eyeglass began to grow dull, and Tod had to concentrate hard to follow the witch. After some minutes Marissa was no more than an occasional vague glimmer—and then she was gone.

Tod was sure that Marissa was up to something. She remembered the Witch Mother's comments about the sorcerer and the deal she had with Marissa. Tod had the strangest feeling that the sorcerer might be Oraton-Marr and if that was the case, then here was another link to the Egg of the Orm.

Tod made a sudden decision. She knew she was being foolhardy, but she didn't care. She shoved the
WitchFinder
into her deepest pocket, pulled a wolverine skin around her
for warmth, then dropped the emergency rope down. She felt the weighted end hit the ground, then with the practiced movements of one used to climbing up masts and the sides of tall houses to hang nets, Tod was down the rope in seconds, before she had time to talk herself out of what she was doing. She stood for a few moments on the Forest floor and looked up at the treehouse complex, seeing the friendly glow from the embers of the fire. Tod felt a brief flicker of fear and pushed it aside. She had a witch to follow. And fast.

Tod pointed the
WitchFinder
at the ground. She told herself that if it did not find Marissa's footprints she would climb straight back up the rope and forget the whole thing. Tod was not sure whether she was entirely pleased when a glowing outline of a foot sprang into the
WitchFinder
eyepiece. Not more than eighteen inches in front of that print was another, then another. Left, right, left, right. There was no excuse now—before her lay a clear trail.