The Serpent of Eridor (11 page)

Tevo looked back at Rectoria, head tilted, eyebrows raised. Mentally curling her lip at having to glorify the smug toad, Rectoria took up the thread again. ‘With his last breath Jago instructed Luke to seek safety with Zorrin, telling him the incantation and where the key vine was. He also told him to hang the visorb round his neck to gain entry. Tevo heard it all. With the boy at swordpoint he snatched Jago's visorb and placed its chain around his own neck.'

‘Surely the visorb would die. It needs oxygen and blood nearby to live. It's a parasite. It cannot live away from flesh for more than seconds,' said Smuddy Binks.

‘Correct, badger,' said Tevo, a strange high note in his voice. He loosened the cord that held his rough shirt closed to expose his thick neck and hairy chest. Halfway down his breastbone on a thick metal chain nestled a visorb, the flat silver disc covered in weird writing.

‘It lives on me.' Tevo lifted the visorb, showing the dark red mark where it had sucked energy from him. He replaced it quickly.

Awestruck, Hebor stared at it. ‘Do you have its power?'

‘No, I don't. But it will get us past the barriers of Ravenscraig.'

‘Is that innocent boy also dead?' asked Smuddy Binks.

‘No,' said Tevo, shoving his shirt back into place. ‘I chose to capture rather than kill Luke. He could be useful in the future as a hostage. A couple of lower-order goblins guard him in a cave to the north. He's alive. Just.'

‘Jago told his friends that they were going away for a long time, so no one seeks the boy. The plan is perfect,' said Rectoria.

Not waiting for a response, Tevo grabbed a stick and squatted near the fire, the flames throwing grotesque shadows across his hard face. With firm strokes he drew a passable map of the nearby jungle in the ground. He stabbed the stubby stick roughly at it. ‘We'll approach from here. We'll pretend to be travellers: a wizard and his companions lost in the storm.'

‘What storm?' asked Hebor.

‘It will come,' said Tevo. ‘After passing through the magical barriers we'll request food and shelter for one night. My name will be Chalon Zim. He was a wizard: a recluse living in the mountains, found dead by my cousin seven days ago.'

‘What if Flick or Zorrin knew Zim?' asked Smuddy Binks. ‘If so we could get blasted to smithereens because of an unlucky coincidence.'

‘As far as I have been able to find out, they didn't,' replied Tevo, scratching his head with the muddy stick. ‘Even if Flick or Zorrin had met him before he retreated they wouldn't recognise him after all the years in the hills. He was clean-shaven in his early years: hairy, latterly. My beard will be a natural disguise.'

‘And how will we get out of Ravenscraig?' asked Grut.

‘We'll find a way,' said Tevo. ‘Earth, metal, wood or fire are little barrier to goblin magic.'

‘Or we might have to tunnel,' said Rectoria.

Scowling at Rectoria, Tevo continued, ‘After we've gained entry, you all shut up and play dumb. Rectoria and I will do the talking. We'll raid the castle when I give the word for action. Any questions?'

Rycant clapped Tevo on the shoulder. ‘This plan is typical of you: bold, direct to the face of the enemy, yet cunning and deceitful. It's perfect.'

‘What now?' asked Smuddy Binks.

‘We wait. The storm will be here soon,' said Tevo, unpeeling Rycant's paw from his shoulder.

‘We had better find shelter,' said Rectoria.

Tevo reached into his pocket and produced a dried human finger bone. He began picking his nose with it methodically. ‘No. We need to be soaked by the time we get to Ravenscraig.'

With slow-burning anger, Rectoria crouched near the inadequate fire and waited, Rycant by her side. ‘He's planned it this way deliberately,' she muttered.

‘What?'

‘Made sure I got drenched. I hate the icy skin and deep-seated cold. My brain seems to slow down. Spiteful toad. He'll get another pus-filled boil on his head tomorrow. He never seems to register where they come from.'

Five hours later the rain began. At first droplets then great sheets of rain swept in on the wind, stinging their faces, plastering fur down. Heavy black clouds blocked the weak late afternoon sun. Lightning arced over their heads: jagged, vivid. Thunder, louder than Smuddy Binks could remember ever hearing, crashed across the ferocious skies.

Cold gripped all of them, seeping through to their bones. Under the battering even the animals' normally water-resistant coats were saturated. Only goblin stubbornness kept Rectoria crouching in her place by the few flickering twigs kept alight by a spell, the cold wracking her shivering limbs.

Still Tevo waited as the relentless rain belted down from the darkened skies. His beard, streaming with rainwater, was cleaner than it had been for years. Finally, he stood up. ‘Now.'

Everybody got stiffly to their feet, underbellies squelching as they rose from the mud. Rectoria started to pack up the few possessions lying around on the forest floor.

‘Leave them,' Tevo said. ‘We take nothing but our knives. If we fail, whoever is left alive shall meet back here.'

‘Reminding us that we may be about to die,' murmured Smuddy Binks to Grut. ‘Great leadership.'

‘Shut it,' barked Rycant.

As Rycant turned away, Smuddy Binks stuck out his tongue.

‘Grow up,' whispered Ferox, the smaller of the two foxes.

‘No thanks. Too painful.'

‘Follow.' Tevo strode out of the clearing.

Rectoria dropped everything back on to the ground, covered it with sodden leaves, then put her hand over the pitiful fire.
‘Exato flamori.'

The fire died, leaving no spark or warmth. The dogs and wolves loped into line behind Tevo, splashing their way across the muddy forest floor. Within only a few paces their forms became indistinct blurs in the driving rain. Smuddy Binks and Grut fell in behind them, scuttling along at the back.

Lightning forked across the sky, turning the forest into a black silhouette. Between flashes very little light filtered through from the moon above yet the goblins marched without faltering, their vision almost as good as by daylight. Despite their broad ugly feet neither made a sound as they walked. On stealthy feet goblins had walked through the years, stealing, assaulting, murdering… then vanishing as silently as a morning mist.

After two miles Tevo halted. The dogs and foxes by his side stopped. Both badgers were marching with their heads down, trying to prevent rain lashing into their eyes. Realising too late that they were stopping Smuddy Binks skidded through the slimy mud, crashing straight into the back of Rycant.

‘Clumsy idiot,' growled Rycant. ‘Watch where you're going, or suffer at my paw.'

‘Sorry,' said Smuddy Binks, and meant it wholeheartedly – not for Rycant, but for himself. Marching in the tipping rain had been bad enough. Crashing into Rycant's rear had been worse, like banging into a smelly furry wall.

Tevo's harsh voice cut through his thoughts. ‘We'll be in plain view soon. Look exhausted.' His eyes scanned the troops. ‘You won't have to act: you all look appalling.' Lip curled, he turned away to murmur to Rectoria.

‘What a cheek,' muttered Smuddy Binks to Grut. ‘Considering that it's his fault we all look like this. It's—'

Grut stepped sideways, digging his claws painfully into the soft upper flesh of Smuddy Binks's left forepaw. Smuddy Binks had opened his mouth to protest when he heard a sneering whisper.

‘Comments against our leader?' growled Rycant. ‘Dissent in the ranks? Doubtless Tevo would like to hear of this. He would be pleased to know how I keep a close eye on the troops.'

Smuddy Binks sighed. ‘Don't tell him, Rycant.'

The Rottweiler's voice was rich with malice. ‘Perhaps I'll stay quiet this time. But you owe me. And you'll pay.' Rycant loped off into the darkness, back to the feet of his master.

‘That was stupid of you,' hissed Grut, as the badgers moved away from the main group. ‘You know Tevo's ears are everywhere.'

Smuddy Binks shrugged. ‘I don't care. Not any longer. I don't want to fight for this evil band.'

‘So why did you join them, then?

‘I thought they wanted to return to the ancient magic. I was wrong. Every particle of the goblins is evil. The problem is that leaving equals a death sentence. There'd be a blood price on my head for the rest of what would be a very short life.'

‘Same for me?' asked Grut, eyes wide.

‘All of us.'

Tevo stopped muttering to Rectoria, turning to face his band. ‘The glorious Sword of Alwyn will soon be mine. History will forever be seared with the story of our brilliant recapture of such a prized weapon. Everyone play dumb.'

Under the eyes of the animals all spirit seemed to drain from Tevo. His body sagged, his head falling so far forward that chin almost met chest. His eyes glazed as the fire in them died. Wet stringy hair framed his expressionless face as he aged fifteen years, becoming a defeated wretch. With apparently leaden feet he trudged off, eyes fixed to the ground.

Smuddy Binks gazed at him, fascinated by the transformation. Tevo normally held himself like a leader: head high, shoulders square, back as straight as bamboo. If Tevo had normally looked like this, would they have believed in him so far? Would they have followed him? Smuddy Binks watched the hunched shoulders slouching onwards. No chance.

High up in the castle, interested eyes observed the progress of the goblin band. The first alarms were set deeper into the forest than Tevo had predicted. As they went off, Flick transparticulated to her room to check who was approaching.

‘Show me the intruders,' she commanded the ice wall.

The frozen face clouded, spitting silver sparks. It cleared to display the band squelching to a halt in the dripping forest. Intrigued, she watched Tevo lecture the group then mutate into the defeated-looking creature now stumbling towards the hideout.

The act was very convincing
, thought Flick. Tevo now looked as if he could die of cold or exhaustion at any minute.
Or drown
, she thought, watching the rain bucketing down.
Not worried
, she decided.
They couldn't be wizards or they wouldn't have bothered to disguise themselves. Whoever they were, they had no chance whatsoever of getting through the defences of Ravenscraig.

No longer interested, she switched her crystal to look around all the rooms in the castle – splitting the screen into six to do it more quickly. Once she had finished her survey she strolled down to the kitchen to feed Myth.

*

As Flick left her room, whistling, the sodden band reached a clearing in the forest. Tevo stopped, the animals halting in his wake, grateful for a few moments' respite from their leaden-footed march. He gazed heavenwards as if finding his bearings, while the animals shivered behind him. Catching Rycant's eye, Rectoria shrugged.

Ahead rose a steep hill littered with huge piles of stones, as if tossed around by a giant. The builders of the ancient broken city had scythed their way through the heart of the trees. Now the vengeful jungle had clawed back its territory. Strangling vines coiled round the blocks, lush vegetation cascading over broken walls, as if to suffocate the remains of the once-beautiful buildings.

Tevo methodically scanned the jungle. Something caught his eye, slightly to the north west. Following his gaze, Rectoria saw it too: a flash of brilliant pink.

‘At last,' Tevo breathed.

Rycant stood close enough to catch his words despite the drumbeat of rain on the thick leaves above their heads, but only Rectoria picked up the note of relief. Adjusting his course to the left, Tevo forced his way through the jungle, thrusting branches out of his way. Rectoria and the animals pushed through behind him without speaking. A last shove, then Tevo saw clearly what he sought.

A thick wall of vines, cascading from a high bough above him, trailed down to tangle with the dense undergrowth. More than a dozen vast, bright flowers hung from the vine stems – each slashed open into four huge petals, their tips rolled out to display their sapphire interiors. Rain dropped from their edges like diamonds formed of the elements, falling to melt into the dirt. Only a few of the huge exotic flowers had burst open – the others still heavy swollen buds.

Smuddy Binks stared at them. ‘I've never seen such flowers,' he muttered to Grut. ‘Even though I've roamed Eridor for many restless years.'

‘Me neither,' replied Grut.

‘I wonder why Tevo is so fascinated by them. It's really odd. Normally he doesn't care about stuff like stunning colours or scents. His favourite smells are baked dung fungus and fresh blood.'

Tevo examined each bloom closely, touching them lightly as he peered into their gem-coloured interiors. After a minute, he swung round to Rectoria.

‘This is it,' he said in a triumphant hiss, pointing to a flower slightly above head height. He grabbed Rectoria by the arm and yanked her forward, excitement overcoming caution. ‘This is the key vine flower. It's exactly what Jago described: a clump of flowers, but only one with bright orange on the base of its stamens.'

Rectoria peered up into the sapphire interior. At the very highest point of the yellow stamens a band of vivid orange traced round their bases, then smudged and melted into the blue velvet interior of the petals.

Tevo grasped the vine below the signal flower and yanked firmly three times. Then he pulled the flower close to his face and, as if it were an old-fashioned speaking tube, he called into its interior.

‘Roo-peart scribbley winkle, fisky doodle pleep.'

As the last syllables of the incantation fell into the silken bloom the hill in front of them split open silently, as if it were made of two tilted sliding doors. A banana tree at the far end split as if struck by an invisible hatchet. The halves paused three metres apart, like silent sentries. Beyond the opening lay a vast courtyard – the size of a football pitch – bathed in the light of a sunny day, the storm above not penetrating the magical barriers protecting the courtyard.

Tevo dug Rectoria in the ribs and then trudged forward, the animals trailing after them. Inside the opening they halted in the sunlight and looked around.

In the centre a fountain shaped like a thistle spouted a cascade of silver-blue water, which fell in a sparkling spray to a fish pond below. Around the edge marble columns rose to the vaulted ceiling, their tops decorated with sculpted flowers, fruit and animals.

A heady scent wafted from lily flowers floating in the pond, waxy white petals above glossy emerald leaves. Scattered in the flower beds along the ancient walls grew a cascade of orchids, hibiscus and honeysuckle, hanging over the walls in tangled clumps. Birdsong drifted from all corners, as hummingbirds and tiny parrots flew from mango trees to the wide necks of tiger lilies. Pineapples grew next to rose bushes in the liquid shade of banana trees.

Rycant growled as the mountain closed silently behind them leaving no trace, making it impossible to locate the exit.

‘Relax, friend,' said Tevo, his tone false even to his own ears. ‘It's only Zorrin's front door. He'll soon be here to welcome us.'

Tevo reached out his hand as if to pat Rycant. One glance at the long nails aiming for his head was enough to make Rycant duck. Tevo surveyed the courtyard, taking in the general whereabouts of where they had entered – despite it being now invisible among the plants. With battle discipline he absorbed as much information as he could, in case they needed to escape by this route – not that it was likely to be possible. Jago had not whispered anything to Luke about how to get back out.

Tevo grabbed Rectoria by the elbow. ‘Come along.'

Limping, Rectoria allowed herself to be steered to the heavy oak kitchen door on the far side of the courtyard. Tevo raised his hairy hand and knocked.

*

While the goblins had been trying to find the key vine, Flick and Myth had engaged in another round of a recurrent cold war: suppertime. Flick wanted Myth to eat green beans and Brussels sprouts but Myth loved large lumps of meat, preferably a juicy hyena steak. Flick had tried cajoling, threatening and leaving him hungry. Myth had in turn purred, growled, kicked, cuddled up to and flattened her, but still ended up with vegetables on his granite slab.

In the end they had reached a compromise. He ate a few veggies, pushed some around with his nose and spat most into the fire. If he managed to convince Flick that he had eaten quite a lot of the healthy stuff he got his favourite pudding: chocolate-covered pinglots. Tonight he had eaten a large pile of pumpkin, which earned him a double helping of treats.

Smiling at her victory in this round Flick went back to her room, followed by an equally happy Myth. She sprinkled some hail on to the mountains and dropped a jar of light breeze on to the hot plain.

‘Sun out at eight p.m. tonight,' she called down to the animals as she switched on her crystal to view the jungle transformers.

To her horror she found the goblin band standing in the courtyard, gazing at their surroundings.

‘The barriers have let them through, so at least one of them had to be an elemental wizard,' she said. ‘But then why the transformation of the goblin?'

‘Crisis brewing,' said Myth.

As she gazed at the crystal she heard the first of Tevo's heavy-fisted knocks echoing down the corridors, their insistent thundering drawing her mind back from stunned inaction to clear focus.

‘What shall we do, Myth? If we pretend to be out they'll probably attack.'

‘So we fight.'

‘Risky. We don't know how heavily armed they are – or the extent of their magic.'

‘Then let them in. Keep them trapped. On our own territory you have many powers – potentially enough to defeat them.'

‘If I get it wrong we're dead meat.'

‘So get it right. Use guile. Let's do it.'

Flick muttered a quick spell to transform herself into a ragged old woman, grabbed Myth's fur, then transparticulated them both to the kitchen.

Tevo thundered on the door again, wondering if he should try to use magic to get through the lock. Slowly the massive oak door creaked ajar, a waft of roasting meat escaping through the gap. A wizened old woman appeared from around the door's edge.

‘What do you want?' the hag snapped, in a thin cracked voice.

Rycant backed away.

‘What's wrong?' Hebor whispered to him.

‘Self-control stretched to breaking point. She looks yummy, if a little stringy. I'm tempted to charge and flatten her.'

‘You can't. Tevo will kill you.'

‘I know, but I'm so hungry I can almost feel my teeth closing round the soft flesh… taste her warm blood dripping deliciously from my lips… imagine the satisfying crunch of her neck bones.' Closing his eyes completely, Rycant flattened himself on the paving stones and put his front paws over his eyes.

‘Submission?' murmured Hebor.

‘No, but if I can't see her neck I may not want it as badly.'

‘We're lost,' said a tired defeated voice, unrecognisable as Tevo's. ‘I am Chalon Zim, a wizard from the north west. My party and I have been caught in a terrible storm. We need shelter for one night.'

‘Go somewhere else,' said the antique female, starting to shut the door.

Rycant partially rose, ready to spring.

Tevo rammed his foot into the closing gap. ‘There is nowhere else. My goblin servant is sick. Going back into such a storm may kill her.'

The ancient face became thoughtful. ‘All right,' she croaked. ‘You can come in. But you must stay in the kitchen.' She wagged a bony finger. ‘The guards will be very angry if I let you into the rest of the house.'

‘A thousand thanks,' breathed Tevo, reaching forward to clasp the old woman's thin hand. ‘Tonight you will have saved at least one life. You'll be surprised by the gratitude we'll show in repaying our debt.'

‘He's giving an honest reply,' Rycant whispered to Hebor. ‘His repayment will be to slit her throat.'

‘Yeah, right. She'll be astonished, but only for a few seconds – until her body bleeds into a corpse.' Both dogs laughed, shutting up when Tevo turned and glared at them.

The aged woman snatched her hand away and moved aside, allowing the band to squeeze through. Tevo staggered in, supporting Rectoria as she limped across the threshold. The animals slunk in behind the goblins, crossing to the fire.

‘You're safe now, Grelsnorg,' said Tevo, helping Rectoria into a chair close to the crackling blaze. He gazed up at Flick. ‘We truly don't wish to cause you more work. I suppose you already have a large number to care for – what with guards, servants and animals.'

‘Masses.' Flick frowned. ‘More each day. No one cares about how much trouble it causes me.'

‘We care,' said Tevo in a honeyed voice. He looked round at the band. ‘Don't we?'

Several animals nodded as Rectoria replied, ‘Such a lot.'

Flick grunted. She shuffled across to a cupboard sunk deep into the stone wall, muttering under her breath. Although empty seconds before, the cupboard now contained several loaves of bread, some cheese and a large jug of beer. Flick yanked them out and slammed them on to the kitchen table.

‘Eat this. Touch nothing else,' she said, irritation tracing through every word. ‘The meat is for the guards.'

‘Are your masters at home? We'd like to thank them ourselves for their generous hospitality,' said Tevo.

‘Yes, but don't bother,' replied the old hag, shuffling towards the back door, the smell of old fish and rotting cabbages wafting along behind her. She yanked a pile of blankets from an alcove close to the sink. ‘Use these. Don't leave any dirt about. Wash your plates. I'm going. Too busy to waste more time with you.' She left the room with Myth slouching along by her side, locking the door behind her.

*

Flick pointed to the room above the kitchen and whispered an incantation. Footsteps began to make their way across the ceiling, as an ever-growing swell of chatter and laughter filled the room. The sound of chairs being scraped back, cutlery clattering and glasses clinking filtered from above as a large crowd apparently gathered to eat.

‘Keep them fooled, my little illusion,' she whispered.

‘Back to your room?' murmured Myth.

‘Yes, but we'll hoof it. I need to run off some of this adrenaline.'

Footsteps echoing on the flagstones, Flick hobbled down the corridor until she rounded the first corner. Then, hitching up her trailing skirts, she belted along towards her room – shedding hairpins as she ran. With Myth at her side she blasted up a flight of stairs and raced round the final corner. Banging her hand against the opening panel she ran into her room, leaving the door open behind her. Swiftly she checked the Live Wizards List.

‘The name Chalon Zim isn't there. We're right. They're impostors.'

‘Send a souvent. Get Zorrin.'

*

On a tiny shelf in Flick's bedroom sat a round silver ball – a souvent – her memory transporter. With it in her hands she thought through recent events as vividly as she could: the goblins in the forest, their arrival, the Live Wizards List with the missing name.

The grey ball became a swirling mix containing vivid images of goblins, animals and the fortress, as it filled with the contents of her mind. Finally, she added a verbal message and then deliberately broke her line of concentration.