Read The Serpent of Eridor Online

Authors: Alison Gardiner

The Serpent of Eridor (9 page)

BOOK: The Serpent of Eridor
5.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
CHAPTER 12

In a first floor corridor Zorrin approached an ordinary-looking dark oak door and placed his hand flat where the handle should have been. Silently, it slid sideways into the frame. Dazzling light streamed out of the room, as if they had flung the door open to reveal a sunny July morning. They could hear the low roar of running water from inside. Following Zorrin, they stepped forward into the brilliant yellow glow.

The sound filling the room came from a waterfall that fell from the ceiling and ran away through the floor. In front of them a precipice yawned, with nothing between where they stood and the lush green jungle.

‘Another magical glass wall?' asked Ikara, pointing her tail at it.

‘Absolutely,' said Zorrin, stroking an orange and green hummingbird that had landed on his shoulder.

‘Makes this place look like home. Masses of leaves and flowers.' Ikara pushed off from the stone tiles. As she reached the glass floor there was little friction. She slid towards the jungle, scrambling to slow down but failing.

‘Watch out, Ikara. You'll crash,' called Alex, waiting for the bang, the cry of pain. It didn't come.

Ikara slid off the edge of the visible floor to hang in space ten metres above the ground. ‘What happened?' she called, body rigid, peering directly down.

‘It's totally safe,' said Zorrin, laughing. ‘The magical glass-like floor extends out by about five metres. You'll hear a gentle hiss before you hit the far wall.'

Ikara slid on in mid-air. After a few meanders, they heard a soft whooshing noise. She stopped and reached out with the tip of her tail towards the air in front of her. ‘It's solid,' she said, tapping at it.

‘Correct. Like it?'

‘Amazing,' said Ikara, curling up, surrounded by jungle.

‘This floor is pretty,' said Keeko.

A whirl of stars embellished the entire surface of the visible floor. Multicoloured planets, their orbits marked with ribbons of gold, hung suspended in a deep blue sky: names were written in copperplate silver lettering beside each.

‘It's not decorative,' Zorrin said. ‘It's a dynamic encyclopaedia – a mine of knowledge. It moves in harmony with the stars around us and is useful for various spells, as well as being invaluable for predicting weather conditions such as typhoons and cyclones.'

‘It's broken. It's not moving,' said Keeko.

Ikara yawned and positioned her head more comfortably on her tail. ‘I suppose you expect planets to be whizzing about all over the place, asteroids zooming under your feet, a hail of shooting stars zipping from wall to wall. Wrong. Owing to the relative proportions of the cosmos and the floor the movements in this pattern are too tiny to be seen over a short period, like an hour or even a day. Maybe a week would be long enough for you to perceive them.'

Zorrin raised his eyebrows. ‘Impressive. You understand both astronomy and scale.'

Ikara pointed the tip of her tail at her skin. ‘I think you'll find that scale is my forte. I also have an in-depth understanding of relative sizes,' she continued, looking at Alex.

Alex nodded. ‘I can vouch for that.' He grinned at Ikara and then – with a look of disgust on his face – mimed shaking sticky mud off his legs then clutching his ribs while gasping for air.

‘Interesting dance,' said Zorrin, smiling.

‘It's a long story,' said Alex, now apparently forcing his way through bushes, crouching low. ‘I'll tell you one day.'

‘Can't wait.'

‘You're right: it could be a dance,' said Skoodle, from Alex's shoulder. He shook his legs in turn, gasping, waving his arms, as he hummed to himself. ‘What do you think, Uncle Toomba? No? Perhaps you're right.'

Zorrin raised his eyebrows at Alex.

‘He talks to his dead uncle. Apparently he used to do it in Hamster-speak in England. He reckons he gets all his best advice from Uncle Toomba.'

‘Interesting concept,' said Zorrin. ‘My Aunt Florianne was amazing, if mentally always on another planet. I wouldn't mind chatting to her. How do you dial them up?'

‘It's a rare gift,' said Skoodle, stopping his dance and sitting down. ‘They have to talk to you first. You can't just barge into their spirit lives.'

‘Or deaths?' asked Alex.

Skoodle looked at him without smiling. ‘Funny.'

‘What's that?' asked Alex. He pointed at a floor-to-ceiling ice-like sheet, whose silver-grey face reflected the sparkle and dance of the waterfall opposite.

Zorrin wandered over to place his hand on its rough surface. ‘This crystal wall shows where anyone is. A fantastic piece of kit. I invented it. Ask and it shows where anyone is, as Flick did to find Tariq.'

‘Flick said it didn't work when the evil forces had you,' said Ikara.

‘That's true. Yet she knew I was alive by this.' Zorrin pointed to a large board next to it, on which were lists of names written in gold. Some were bright and glittering as if freshly written, others dull from age.

‘It's a record of living wizards. Anyone who's still alive appears on the board. There I am.' He pointed to the name Zorrin Horsfeld. ‘On a wizard's death the name disappears. When a baby wizard is born a new name appears.'

As he spoke a commotion started on the board, letters jostling each other as they moved.

‘Out of my way. Move down, oaf,' said a tiny voice from the golden list.

‘Keep going or that K will get me right in the bottom.'

‘Don't shove me. The Zs are still asleep. Someone get the last Y to poke them.'

The letters shuffled and reformed, then stopped moving as the little voices died down. A new name had appeared high up between Angelissa de Pomadori and Degrote de Pomadori, in bright gold letters.

‘Baby de Pomadori. An Italian wizard, I presume,' said Zorrin. ‘There'll be another fuss when he's given a first name and they have to shuffle again. I don't know why they always grumble about moving. You'd think they would be grateful for a little exercise.'

‘Look,' exclaimed Keeko, gazing over a low brick wall. ‘Teeny-weeny creatures.'

Alex joined Keeko, who was peering over the boundary of a miniature world. On a flat plain tiny lions lazily swished their tails, watching mini antelope grazing. Close by, in a desert, sphinxes and pyramids trotted around on four legs. Miniature walruses lay on an ice cap, basking in a snowfall. Several penguins played near polar bears who were flicking blue and pink fish out of the sea, catching them in their mouths. In the middle sparkled an ocean, from which minuscule dolphins leapt. Above it hung the sun, brilliant in a clear blue sky, the source of the light that had dazzled them at the door.

‘Is it a toy?' asked Alex.

‘Far from it,' said Zorrin. ‘Those animals are real and, when removed from the compound, normal size.'

‘Boring to have the sun all the time,' said Ikara, looking over the edge.

‘Flick switches it for the moon at night. She keeps it here.' He pointed to a gold bowl on the shelf. ‘But the weather is a bit random. Flick tosses in whatever she feels like.'

He reached towards a shelf on which sat rows of jars. The labels ranged from Hail and Lightning to Spring Breeze. Zorrin chose a jar marked Rain Clouds and sprinkled a few over the mountains. A cry of protest rose from the goats and bears.

‘Sorry, but you need rain sometimes,' said Zorrin to the upturned faces.

With a small harrumph the bears trooped off to their caves. A fleet of ducks flew in, giggling, droplets of rain rolling off their heads.

‘How do they become big again?' asked Alex.

‘These capsules.' Zorrin indicated a bowl of fragile-looking bubbles on a pedestal near the compound. ‘They hold a weightlessness spell. If you drop one on an animal you can pick it up. When you burst it the animal becomes normal-sized.'

‘Do you have to put the clouds back?' asked Keeko, reaching over to poke one.

‘No,' said Zorrin. ‘They rain themselves out. Shall we see the rest of the fortress?'

‘Sure,' agreed Alex, even though he wanted to stay. ‘This is so cool. I'll ask Flick to show me the rest of the stuff in here some time.'

As they turned to leave, bickering started again on the Live Wizards List.

‘Excellent,' laughed Zorrin. ‘Not only have they given the baby a first name, they've double-barrelled his second. Almost the whole lot will need to shift. Riot brewing.'

The noise levels of tens of tiny voices rose as Frederik Zimbalt-Pomadori started his descent through the list of names.

Zorrin addressed the board. ‘There must be no torn-off bits of letters when I get back. I'm tired of mending you.'

The last call was Zorrin's study, a cross between a high-tech room and a male comfort cave. A transparent domed ceiling rose above them, slender silver beams visible through the glass. The circular walls were hung with maps, several of Eridor: some astronomical, most of the others incomprehensible. A painting of a sailing boat, with the name
Phaedea
inscribed on the hull, hung behind his desk. At the far side of the room was a doorway filled with a thick mist, like a cloud door.

A large tabby cat sat at Zorrin's immense wooden desk, reading a newspaper. He glanced up at them, nodded hello, then carried on reading. Near him, a tall contraption of glass cylinders, half-filled with liquids of various colours, hung in the air.

‘Pretty,' said Ikara, eyeing it. ‘But is it useful?'

‘Very,' replied Zorrin. ‘It's an astromometer, sent to me by a friend of my father's about fifty years ago. Old, but it works perfectly.'

Keeko wandered over. ‘Love the colours. What's it do?'

‘Predicts the interfacing of time zones, the occurrence of meteor showers and of shooting stars. You're lucky to see it. Quite often it fades out and disappears, sometimes for days, which is extremely inconvenient.'

‘And these?' asked Ikara, indicating a small gold bowl in which lay several red beans.

‘Orgreeb. If you put one in your ear I can talk to you, even if you're miles away.'

‘Why not use thought transference?' asked Alex.

‘It's got nothing like the range of these. Also, with transference, everyone can hear your thoughts. Orgreeb are private, transmitting only to whoever is wearing one, so ensure secrecy.'

Keeko opened a red enamel box. ‘And this?'

Bounding across, the cat grabbed it and slammed the lid shut.

‘Thanks, Clawds. Those are highly dangerous time tears. When two time zones collide, either in the course of nature or by wizardry, an unstable edge forms. The shearing forces rip small droplets of reverse time from the edge.'

‘So why are they dangerous?' asked Keeko.

‘Touching one without the protection of a glove of Mazal will transport you to the other time zone. The only way to return is by contact with the opposing tears remaining on the other side, but they're amazingly difficult to find. Clawds, would you get Figstaff to bring some drinks, please?'

‘Of course. No problem.' Clawds ran from the room, tail held high.

‘Does this box also contain time tears?' Alex pointed at an ancient-looking wooden box, a gold mesh glove on top.

‘No. Go on, look in the box, but don't touch the contents.'

Inside were four green slimy globules, like massive blobs of snot, quivering in individual black metal compartments.

‘Why the glove? Do these things bite?' asked Alex.

‘No. They're cabivitrim: a powerful magical adhesive. The only things they won't stick to are the box they're kept in and that glove. Drink?'

‘Great,' said Alex, suddenly realising how thirsty he was after the long trek around Ravenscraig.

An emerald-green frog in a flowered waistcoat walked in on his hind legs, rearing up to the height of a man. He held a tray of glasses. Each one was scrolled with gold writing, the stems blood-red. Figstaff put the tray on a table near the fireplace then placed his front leg on it. Pale green fluid bubbled up through the glass stems.

‘Thanks, Figstaff,' said Zorrin. ‘Is this your mango, orton and passion fruit mix?'

‘Absolutely,' said Figstaff. ‘Enjoy.'

As Figstaff handed a glass to Alex, a short bald-headed man dressed in a dinner jacket entered the study, his gaunt face unsmiling. Over one arm lay what appeared to be a furry white towel. As the man paused at the door the soft drape moved slightly and a head appeared. Alex realised with a shock that the fluffy something was a rabbit.

‘You requested a bear, I believe,' said the bunny.

CHAPTER 13

The man stepped back to let Tariq pass. With a shriek Keeko flung herself at Tariq, landing with her arms wrapped round his neck and her tail curled around his torso.

‘You're alive,' she yelled. ‘You frightened us.' Crying, she beat on his chest with her fists.

‘Had a good swim?' asked Ikara from her perch on the desk. ‘I suppose you got bored with your crocodile friends and thought you'd pop over and see us instead.'

Tariq grinned. ‘Something like that.' He looked unharmed, although mud matted his golden fur and a livid red scar ran the full length of his right forelimb.

‘Welcome back,' said Alex, so pleased to see Tariq that it felt as if his chest would pop. ‘We thought you were dead meat.'

‘So did I.' Tariq sat down with Keeko still wrapped round him.

‘How did you survive?' asked Skoodle.

Tariq accepted a glass from Figstaff and drank deeply. ‘Luck.'

‘More detail, croc wrestler supreme,' said Skoodle, as Figstaff handed him a tiny glass. The frog wandered from the room.

‘A tree next to the waterfall had a thick branch reaching across the water. As we fell I kicked at the croc, using him as a springboard. I managed to grab the branch then climbed along the trunk to the side of the gorge. Old leather-face wasn't so lucky. He's fish food now.'

‘I expect the croc aerobics were quite tiring,' said Ikara. ‘On the positive side, though, the river will have washed the blood away.' Her tone became anxious. ‘Unless you're still bleeding?'

‘No, I'm not.' Tariq ran his hand over the smooth scales of her head. ‘I had a couple of slashes when I first arrived, but Flick made me drink some disgusting green muck. I healed immediately.'

As Tariq withdrew his paw to take his cup Ikara sank softly to the floor, a soft whisper of air escaping her mouth.

‘By the way, thanks for saving our lives,' said Alex.

‘No biggy,' replied Tariq with a shrug. ‘Don't be too grateful. You may yet need to return the favour.' He turned to Zorrin. ‘Does that guy who guided me here never talk? Only the rabbit spoke at all.'

‘Yidgit is complex. The pair share a body. The rabbit does all the thinking and talking, but he's almost boneless and has no vital organs of his own. No heart, no lungs, no gut. Without the man the rabbit would die, and vice versa.'

‘Amazing,' said Tariq, reaching for a banana. ‘So what happened to you guys?'

Keeko launched into the story. She acted out the fight with Karlan, overplaying it. The enemies became larger, the battle bloodier. She passed over Ikara's defeat by Karlan, moving on to a graphic description of travelling by aerocroc.

‘Great acting,' said Zorrin as Keeko bowed. ‘We need to work out why Virida sucked you into this task and if it's related to Karlan's attempt to kill me. We must also get more information on the disappearance of Alex's parents.'

‘That would be great,' said Alex.

Zorrin took a small white ball from the edge of his desk and flung it into the air. As it rose in a lazy arc it expanded, becoming hazier. It floated down to the floor behind them, becoming a large undulating crescent-shaped cloud, wisps of vapour rising from its surface.

Zorrin sat on it. ‘Join me.'

‘Looks fun,' said Keeko, jumping on.

‘Loving this.' Ikara leaned her head back on to the moving white cushion.

‘Thanks. Alex, may I see you your parents' stuff?'

Alex pulled out the netbook, put it on the desk and found his father's Eridor file.

Skoodle scrambled out of Alex's pocket and jumped on to the desk. ‘Put it a bit closer, please. Should be less boring with Zorrin to explain it.'

Zorrin opened the file. ‘It's written in Tor. Sensible of them. Almost no one understands that ancient language.'

They waited as Zorrin read – the silence only broken by Skoodle scratching his head, drumming his claws on the desk or sighing.

Finally Zorrin spoke. ‘They've collected an amazing amount of info. Astonishing, as they've got no personal magic. The map is highly detailed: it even has the mooring place of my boat
Phaedea
in Petrock Bay on it. Very few know where she lies.' He read on. ‘I've found the reason why Virida trapped Alex with the hex. Listen to this prophecy. ‘One shall come from afar. Of few years and of human frame, he'll rediscover the Sapphire of Akan, thereby launching a new era.''

‘So Virida chose me as her puppet,' said Alex. ‘Landed us with a curse.'

‘We must stop looking for the sapphire,' said Keeko, grabbing Zorrin's arm and shaking it. ‘We can't play into her hands.'

Zorrin shook his head. ‘We can't stop. If the stone does exist we have to get to it first. It has awesome power. We'll have to get more information from the Mountain of Makusha.'

He rummaged in the cloud sofa and then pulled out a coloured three-dimensional map. Zorrin hung it in thin air above his desk.

He whistled a note. A thin silver stick appeared in his hand. Zorrin pointed it at the map. ‘Makusha is part of the mountain range that we flew over to get here. The journey to him will be appalling: arctic, exhausting, dangerous. But there is no choice, as Makusha knows things that no one alive would be able to remember.'

‘I'm confused,' said Alex. ‘Is Makusha a mountain or a living creature?'

‘Both,' replied Zorrin, putting down his pointer. Immediately it rolled into a ball and attached itself to the sleeve of his shirt as if it were a magnetic button. ‘Makusha has an astonishing brain trapped in a granite exterior. He is guarded by the Xo force, which prevents unwanted visitors reaching his heart. Unfortunately it also prevents us from getting there by disparticulation.'

Skoodle trotted over to Zorrin's sleeve and pulled the silver button off. ‘Will this Xo stop us getting in?'

‘No. If your motives are good the Xo will allow you to pass. If not, it throws you back out into the snow as if you'd been blasted by a cyclone. Bone-shattering stuff. Tomorrow we shall find out what Makusha knows about the sapphire.' Zorrin gestured dismissively at the map.

‘Great. So you've finished with me,' said the map. ‘No “Thank you” or “Good work”. Well, I know when I'm not wanted.'

The map rolled itself up into a long thin tube and shot back towards the cloud sofa, heading straight at Alex. As Alex flung himself forward on to the desk the map whistled past his left ear, missing by only millimetres. It dived into the sofa, shouting, ‘May your brains turn to bogies.'

‘A map with attitude. Rare, thankfully, but better than the other kind of troublemaking map – which explodes in a shower of beetles when it's angry. It takes ages to piece it back together, as the bits keep running off.'

As Skoodle pulled at the button and shook it, trying to make it elongate, a snarl cut across the air. Clawds stood braced: back arched, fur on end, tail vertical, his gaze focused beyond Ikara.

‘Clawds, what's the matter?' asked Zorrin. ‘It's only a mouse.'

Clawds gave a savage yowl. ‘No. Evil wizard.'

‘Blazing asteroids, you're right,' shouted Zorrin, leaping off the sofa.

The rodent pelted across the floor, aiming for the cloud door. Clawds leapt after him, hissing and spitting.

‘Don't lose him, Clawds,' yelled Zorrin as the tip of the mouse's tail disappeared through the cloud door, the cat in pursuit.

Zorrin grabbed Alex's arm, holding him back. He took an orgreeb and shoved it at Alex. ‘Cram this in your ear. I'll relay instructions. I'm going to the ice wall so I can track him better. Follow Clawds.' Angry black eyes met Alex's. ‘Show no mercy. Kill the intruder.'

Scooping up Skoodle, Alex raced after the other three. They threw themselves through the hazy door into a corridor lit up with a soft orange glow. Clawds's tail was disappearing down some stairs at the far end of the corridor. As Alex approached he found deep shadow on the long narrow flight of stone stairs as it plunged downwards, the bottom treads in total darkness. Ikara raced down them ahead of the others. Near the bottom she stopped suddenly, rearing up on her tail.

‘What's wrong?' Alex asked, drawing level with her.

One glance answered his question. A cavernous black hole lay beyond the bottom tread, filling the whole passageway: no other way forward. Clawds had already disappeared down it.

‘Jump,' said Zorrin's voice through the orgreeb.

Alex peered into the darkness. ‘Are you sure?'

‘Positive. The crystal shows Clawds ahead of you, with the mouse not far beyond. Go for it.'

Alex relayed the message to the others.

‘Not me,' said Skoodle, clinging on to the edge of Alex's pocket.

‘Yes. Us.'

Taking a deep breath Alex closed his eyes and launched himself into the hole, hoping that he wouldn't break both legs on landing.

‘Parachute,' yelled Skoodle.

‘That'll be me.'

Alex and Skoodle fell through darkness until a blast of air slowed them to a halt. They touched down in a vast cellar – Ikara, Keeko and Tariq landing a second later. The mouse was still ahead of Clawds, the gap closing as he raced onwards.

‘Spread out to herd him towards Clawds,' Alex called to the others. ‘We'll trap him.'

The mouse reached some turquoise mosaic tiles close to the far wall. As he ran on to one it flew upwards, whooshing him towards the ceiling.

Its body flattened against the cold stone tile, the mouse clung on to the speeding slab as it rocketed up.

Skoodle's eyes were fixed on the tiny figure. ‘Is this Zorrin's magic? Death by splattage?'

They waited for the nauseating crunch. Yet, with a whisker to spare, the roof opened above the mouse. He shot on upwards, unharmed.

‘As it turns out, no,' said Skoodle.

Clawds jumped on to the next turquoise tile. As he landed, this too began to soar towards the ceiling.

‘If the roof doesn't vanish he'll be pulverised,' wailed Skoodle. ‘Close your eyes.'

Alex couldn't look away. As Clawds's head reached the ceiling a black hole appeared. He vanished into it.

‘Get on to one,' Alex called to Keeko and Ikara. ‘Quickly.'

‘What if the roof doesn't open for us?' yelled Skoodle.

‘We get crushed,' said Alex, face set in hard lines, hazel eyes serious.

BOOK: The Serpent of Eridor
5.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Firehills by Steve Alten
Circus of Thieves on the Rampage by William Sutcliffe and David Tazzyman
SmokingHot by Sommer Marsden
A Family Kind of Gal by Lisa Jackson
Revenge of the Snob Squad by Julie Anne Peters