“Quite. Then Fast Freeze?”
“Fast Freeze and Safe Shield combo . . .”
“You’ve got it. Okay, let’s go.”
Morris was the only one in the Castle to see the rare sight of a Synchronized Transport. Being a nosy rat, just like his father, Morris had rather sheepishly followed the two ExtraOrdinaries. He watched as Septimus and Marcia became encased in a haze of purple mist and when the Synchronicity kicked in with a burst of blindingly bright light, Morris squealed with shock and hid his eyes. When he opened his eyes he thought Septimus and Marcia were still there, although they were now a shimmering green color. But when Morris blinked and looked up at the sky he saw them there, too. And when he looked down at his feet there they were as well. The afterimage took hours to fade, and when it finally went, Morris rather missed seeing the two green Wizards hanging around the Rat Office.
SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING
The Synchronized Transport took Marcia and Septimus to exactly where they had planned—the Hidden arch. It was to be found in the Castle wall, along the Outside Path, some twenty feet above the Moat. They arrived to find the path slippery with Moat mud and strands of wet weed dripping on the wall. There was no doubt that the Kraan had recently passed that way, but of them there was no sign.
“We’re too late,” Septimus said.
The path was little more than a ledge. Marcia shuffled around carefully and stared at the wall, trying to see the Hidden arch within, but all she saw was the remains of a chalk mark drawn by Lucy Heap some months earlier. Tentatively, Marcia pushed her hand against the stone and felt a softness to it. “It’s still open,” she said. “We’ll have to go after them, Septimus. For Tod’s sake.”
“We’ll go Synchronized,” Septimus said. He stretched out his hand to take Marcia’s once more, and as he did there was a soft splash from the Moat below. They both gingerly leaned out and looked down to see a black, bony skull breaking the surface.
“We’ve got one . . .” breathed Marcia.
Never had the advent of a Kraan been greeted with such pleasure. Utterly still, Marcia and Septimus watched the beast claw its way up the wall, like a giant spider climbing out of the bath.
Synchronicity is a Magykal state where two Wizards with equal power and knowledge act together as one. This can, if used well, increase the combined strength of their Magyk by up to seven times.
The Kraan looked up and saw two green-eyed humans staring down at it. Its six red eyes lit up with delight at the prospect of a double Wizard kill so early in its existence. It leaped forward for the lethal blow and found itself suddenly surrounded by a purple mist. An overpowering weakness enveloped the Kraan and it fell, limbs flailing, a spider out of control. There was a splash and it began to sink.
“Bother,” said Marcia. “We’ll have to . . .”
“Jump,” Septimus finished.
They landed beside the Kraan, which was sinking, slowed by its encasing purple bubble. Marcia grabbed an arm, feeling only a slight tingle as she touched the slimy bone, and Septimus found a leg. Stupefied by the Magyk, the Kraan did nothing, but Marcia and Septimus were struggling. Their heavy, waterlogged cloaks were pulling them down, the fight to stay afloat was using up much of their power, and direct contact with the Kraan was leaching their Magyk away fast.
Rupert Gringe, Lucy Heap’s brother, was the proprietor of Rupert’s Paddleboat Hire at the end of Snake Slipway. He was embarking on his annual clear-out of junk when he heard splashing from just around the bend in the Moat. Rupert knew the sound of someone in trouble; he grabbed the nearest boat and set off. The sight of Rupert’s pink paddleboat tearing toward them, paddles whirling furiously, was all Septimus and Marcia needed to give them the energy to keep their Synchronicity going.
Rupert drew up beside them. “Bit cold for a swim, isn’t it?” he said, regarding Marcia and Septimus with amusement.
“Very funny, Rupert . . . give us a hand to get this . . . into the boat, will you?” Septimus said, breathless with the effort of keeping afloat.
“Get what in?” Suddenly Rupert’s grin vanished. “What the . . . what is that?” he whispered, pointing to the purple-shrouded Kraan bobbing just beneath the surface.
“It won’t hurt you,” Marcia said. “It’s Shielded.”
“I’m not having that thing in my boat,” Rupert told them. “No way. I just painted it for the season.”
“Then . . . tow it,” Septimus puffed. “Please, Rupert. It’s important.”
“All right,” Rupert agreed reluctantly. “Now, do you two want to get in or are you still enjoying your swim?”
There was only one answer to that. Rupert put the ladder down and soon his pink paddleboat was full of two dripping Wizards and the strangeness of Magyk.
Under instructions, Rupert took them to the Manuscriptorium landing stage at the end of Sled Alley. As they paddled along the Moat towing the Kraan encased in its purple bubble, they passed the wreckage of the old Infirmary. “That was some party last night,” Rupert commented. He received no reply. Both Septimus and Marcia were tiring fast and they needed all their concentration to keep hold of the Kraan and remain in Synchronicity.
At the landing stage Septimus managed two words to Rupert: “Don’t touch.” Rupert needed no telling. He stood back while Marcia and Septimus heaved the Kraan from the water and the enormity of the thing revealed itself. Then he watched the two Wizards carry it up the alley, enfolded in its purple caul. Rupert paddled slowly home in the sunshine, feeling unsettled. What, he wondered, was going on?
At the Wizard Tower a terrified Catchpole barricaded himself into the porter’s lodge. Septimus put the Tower into LockDown to protect the more sensitive areas and then he and Marcia embarked upon the tricky task of maneuvering the Kraan up the spiral stairs. At last they reached the Darke eighteenth floor. They staggered along the corridor, hauling the unwieldy creature toward the Safe Chamber: a small Darke-proofed room with a highly effective Lock.
With one hand, Septimus managed to UnLock the Chamber. He pushed the door ajar and then stopped. “There’s someone in here,” he whispered.
“Who on earth would want to—” Marcia’s comment was cut off by a quavering voice.
“Don’t come in. Please don’t. I’m contaminated. Keep clear.”
“Newt?” Septimus said. “Is that you?”
“Yes . . . it’s me. I’m so sorry, ExtraOrdinary. I’ve done a terrible thing.”
“We know what you’ve done, Newt,” Septimus told him curtly. “Come out of there and keep away from us. You’ll see why.”
Newt’s pale, scared face appeared from the gloom. His eyes widened with shock at the sight of the shadowy form of the Kraan within a purple haze. He flattened himself against the doorframe and squeezed by. Then he stood, chewing his fingernails, watching Marcia and Septimus deposit the Kraan in the Safe Chamber.
At last, with the door Locked, Marcia and Septimus let go of their Synchronicity. Newt now saw clearly the bedraggled state the two Wizards were in. He was shocked.
“Newt Makken,” Septimus said, “I suggest you stop gawking like a stranded fish and start to do something useful.”
“Yes. Anything. I’ll do anything you want,” Newt said.
Septimus left Newt in the Darke book room with a pen and paper. “You can write out the Incantation you so cleverly managed to say right the first time,” Septimus told him.
Septimus released the Wizard Tower from its LockDown and he and Marcia went up to his rooms. While they changed into dry clothes Milo made them coffee. He knew better than to ask what had happened; Marcia would tell him when she was ready.
Milo saw no more of Marcia that day or for much of the next. She and Septimus, along with the chastened Newt, worked tirelessly to find the Reverse of the Kraan Incantation. They had custody of one Link from the Chain Reaction, and whatever happened to that Link would happen to the entire Chain. Now all they had to do was to find the Reverse of the Incantation and apply it to their
captive.
But first they had to find it.
PART VIII
A NEAR MISS
Tod’s PathFinder was a beautiful thing. It consisted of two parts: a smooth onyx sphere attached to a leather triangle that she held between finger and thumb and a hollow lapis lazuli dome attached to a beautiful pointer of filigreed silver shaped like a long triangle. On the opposite side of the lapis dome was a thick curl of silver through which Tod threaded a leather cord so that when she was not using it, the PathFinder hung around her neck like a pendant. The two parts fit together beautifully: the lapis dome sat snugly on the onyx sphere and moved fluidly to point in the right direction. All Tod had to do was to touch the tip of the pointer to a piece of rock from the place she wanted to go, then the PathFinder would guide her through the Hubs, showing the archways she needed to take.
The Ancient Ways consisted of a network of strange and Magykal tunnels linked to a worldwide system of Hubs. Each Hub had twelve tunnels leading from it, marked with the old PathFinder numbering system from I to XII. Tod had to negotiate nine Hubs in order to get home because two on her way home were unusable. One was full of lava from a volcanic eruption and the other, the nearest to her village, was now beneath the sea. And so she had to travel great distances across the world in order to arrive at a place not so very far from where she had started. But this was no hardship; Tod loved the Ways and even going through nine Hubs would only take about an hour—if all went well.
All did go well to begin with.
Marcia’s Keep was the first Hub. Tod hurried across and headed into Arch II. She walked toward the white mist of the Vanishing Point—and then she was gone.
A few minutes later, Tod was stepping into one of her favorite Hubs. It felt like a tiny, wild wood. Its twelve arches were set into an enclosing wall built from mellow brick festooned with ivy. The Hub was suffused with a soft green light; it was calm and peaceful. Birds sang brightly and this time Tod was entranced to see a sea of wild roses tumbling over the walls. Had she not been so excited about going home she would have been tempted to sit among the roses for a while and listen to the birdsong. But with the happy thought of surprising her father when he came back from his day’s fishing, Tod followed the direction her PathFinder was pointing and walked into the next arch.
Tod ticked the subsequent Hubs off as they appeared in their usual sequence.
Hub three: an ancient, bare arena of white marble, glaring in the heat of the sun.
Hub four: a muddy pool, ankle-deep, writhing with tadpoles.
Hub five: a slate quarry, glittering with frost, with the arches hewn into the rock.
Hub six: inside a house, with swinging wooden doors on the arches. There was a baby crying in the room above.
Hub seven: a hushed temple and its priest. Tod had a coin ready in her pocket in case the priest noticed her as she ran across the bright mosaic floor. But the old man was asleep and Tod’s footfall was so light he did not wake up.
Hub eight, the last one before her home Hub in the Far Fortress, was a nasty, oppressive maze and Tod dreaded it. This was where Tod really needed her PathFinder. She stepped out of the archway and was confronted by a blank wall of blackened bricks, burned long ago in an ancient kiln. The wall rose up a little more than an arm’s length away and ran parallel to the Hub wall so that it formed a narrow, dark corridor. Its height—almost ten feet—meant that there was no way Tod could see what lay beyond. She had the choice to turn either right or left, but although the wall formed a concentric circle within the Hub, it was not possible to reach the other arches by following the corridor. The passage was blocked just before each neighboring arch, forcing the traveler deep into the maze.
Tod hated the maze. It made her feel trapped, like a rat in a run. To take her mind off the sensation of stepping into a prison cell, she looked up at the sky. It was not a heartening sight. A heavy blanket of gray cloud hung low, and a fine mist of chilly drizzle was descending. Tod had no idea where in the world this Hub was—it was not on Marwick’s map—but judging by the low level of light it lay much farther north than her village.
Tod turned her attention to the immediate task in front of her. The PathFinder was indicating that she must go left, and so she did. The narrow corridor curved gently around to the right, and before it had reached the next arch the way was blocked, so Tod was forced to take a sharp turn to the right. Ten steps later, Tod was presented with a choice of two turnings. The PathFinder indicated left once again, and so left she went.
Tod trod quietly, taking care not to betray her presence. It bothered her that she could not see more than a few feet ahead—who knew what might be lurking? The corridor was so narrow that if she did meet anyone there would scarcely be room to squeeze past. The thought of suddenly meeting a stranger in such a confined space was not good, but what really spooked Tod were the random patches of Darke Magyk that had been left by travelers over the millennia. The sharp twists and turns of the maze and its immensely high walls meant that these gloomy miasmas never shifted. They lurked in the dead ends and unnerved Tod as she passed by.
The only good thing about the maze Hub was the navigating. This was actually fun with the PathFinder, which happily adjusted to every change of direction and was always very definite when faced with a choice of turnings. How anyone without a PathFinder managed to find their path through to the right arch, Tod had no idea. She and Oskar had done a trial run with the PathFinder some months ago, and Oskar had written down every turn. He had made a copy for Ferdie and offered one to Tod in case she ever lost the PathFinder. But Tod had refused to take it—she was never going to lose her precious PathFinder.
The Hub was huge. Even with the PathFinder the maze took about twenty minutes to navigate; how long it might take without one, Tod could not imagine. Somewhere deep in the center of the maze there was said to be a skeleton lying sprawled in despair across a three-way junction. Luckily Tod’s route did not take her past any skeletons, but it did go by some nasty swirls of Darke Magyk.
After about fifteen minutes, Tod felt she was making progress. The PathFinder had just taken her through a rapid series of left-right-left-right turnings that she remembered as being near the end, and now she was on the long straight run that led to the very last convolutions before her destination.
As Tod neared the final series of twists and turns, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that sent a stab of fear shooting through her. A black, round shape like the dome of a huge, bald head was moving rather jerkily just above the top of the wall. She stopped and stared, her heart beating so fast that her hand holding the PathFinder shook. Something ten feet tall was in the maze with her. And right then it was only one wall away.
A deep sense of fear seeped into Tod’s bones as she watched the lurching up-and-down movement of the skull-top traveling along the neighboring run, no more than a few feet away. Now Tod was grateful for the high, obscuring walls and wished they were even higher. The PathFinder, after adjusting itself to her trembling hand, pointed steadily on. Tod walked quickly along the long straight corridor, relieved to see it was taking her in the opposite direction from the skull-top, which had turned suddenly and was now moving away.
Tod hurried through the rapid series of turns and could not resist breaking into a run down a long, curving corridor. At the end of the corridor was a fork. Tod was pretty sure she should take the left turn, but for once the PathFinder had no opinion. It sat trembling on its sphere, pointing accusingly at Tod herself as if to say, You know how running upsets me.
“Please,” Tod whispered, “please show me the way.” As she stood at the fork waiting for the PathFinder to settle, she felt a pricking sensation in the back of her neck. Very slowly, she turned around and saw something coming around the bend that would haunt her nightmares for years to come. A ten-foot-tall shining black skeleton: the body had a human configuration, but the head was that of a beast. Domed, long in the snout with two short yellow tusks on either side of the j
aw like a warthog. Tod froze. She knew at once what it was and, thanks to her homework, she knew how lethal it was. Just as Septimus had done with Benhira-Benhara, Tod counted the eyes. But unlike Septimus she counted six: ranged down either side of the snout were three shining points of red. And each one was focused on her. This was the real thing
Tod didn’t intend to, but she screamed. The PathFinder pointer fell off its onyx sphere and tumbled to the sandy floor. She scooped it up, fumbled and dropped the sphere, which rolled into the shadows. Clutching the PathFinder in one hand, Tod looked desperately for its sphere, but it seemed to have vanished. She glanced up to see the Kraan advancing toward her with a mechanical, shuddering gait. Behind her, divided only by a skin of bricks, Tod knew, lay the arch she needed to get home, but it may as well have been in another country, for she had no idea how to get to it. All she did know was that she had to escape the monstrosity pitching rapidly toward her. And so Tod did the only thing possible—she turned and ran.
THE FAR HUB
“It’s Tod!” Ferdie said to Oskar excitedly.
Oskar and Ferdie were in the Far Hub. It was the nearest one to their village, but was half a day’s walk away, situated deep in a forest called the Far. The Far Hub followed the configuration of all Hubs with twelve arches leading off from a central circular space. When, as prisoners of the Lady, Ferdie and Oskar had first seen the Hub, it had seemed like a dungeon, but the villagers had made some changes over the past few months and it now looked and felt quite different. The Far Hub was almost cozy. It had a selection of rugs laid upon the flagstones, along with some comfortable chairs and blankets for when the chill of the night air seeped through the thick stone walls. It also had twelve stout doors covering the arches, each door secured by two long bolts.
Mindful of previous incursions of malicious intruders like Garmin, the Lady and Mitza, the PathFinder villagers had decided they were not prepared to leave the arches open. They knew that this went against the spirit of the Ancient Ways—which was to allow free passage—and so they kept a permanent Watch in the Hub in order to open the doors to any well-intentioned travelers. Behind each door they had set a lantern and a sign reading: Welcome, Friend, to the Far Hub. Please knock and we will open the door.