The White Wolf's Son: The Albino Underground

  “You’re a hardheaded child,” she said. She was dressed in a red jerkin and black tight-fitting trousers. There were leather boots on her feet, and on her back was a quiver of arrows. In her left hand was an unstrung bow. “What made you go off like that?”

  “Grandma?” I stammered in astonishment.

  “Well, in a manner of speaking.”

  “Are you related to Monsieur Zodiac?”

  “I am.”

  “You—the panther—how?”

  “We have a special rapport,” she said with a slight smile. “I’m sorry about the mystery, but we knew no other way to find you.”

  “Are you prisoners here?”

  “I am not,” she said. “But my men were also caught. Klosterheim has convinced this city’s prince that they are to be feared and were responsible for holding you prisoner.”

  “But why should he be interested in me?”

  “Because of oracular warnings concerning the Graal Staff. With the best motives in the world, he wants to take on the burden of guarding the Staff. I suppose he doesn’t accept that you’re worthy of the job.”

  “I don’t even know what the job is. I don’t even know what the Staff is. But I certainly don’t have it, and neither do I know where it is.” I wanted to ask her about the blind boy, Onric, but I couldn’t find a way of starting.

  “We understand all that, Oonagh, dear.” Herr Lobkowitz stepped forward to kneel down and embrace me. “But Gaynor, the other man you saw in Ingleton last night, is convinced you are the key to its possession. I think they might be misguided, but we let ourselves be captured before we could find you and take you home. You’re safe here for a while. It won’t occur to them to look for you in our prison, I’m sure.”

  “How did they capture you?”

  “Magic,” said Lieutenant Fromental simply and unequivocally. “Powerful sorcery which defeats all our knowledge of such things. None of us, save Oona the Dreamthief here, has any such power. We scarcely know how to defend ourselves, let alone attack it. But you can help us.”

  Although it baffled me, I suspected that Oona the Dreamthief was my grandmother but at an earlier time of her life. “Help you?” I said. “I can’t even help myself. I still don’t really believe in magic. At least, I didn’t until I met Mrs. House, and even she could be just another kind of life form.”

  “I quite agree with you, dear young lady.” Lieutenant Fromental’s big brow clouded. “But rationalism cannot entirely explain things I have witnessed in this world they call the Middle Marches. For instance, look outside.” He pointed. It was now daylight outside, and the figures I had seen on the lawn were in fact about a dozen American Indians in colorfully decorated breechclouts, leggings and leather shirts. Their heads were shaven, apart from long scalp locks, and their fierce faces were painted. In their hands were various weapons, including stone tomahawks, lances, bows and shields. They looked as if they had walked off the set of The Last of the Mohicans. Yet each one of them was frozen in midmovement.

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  “They are my friends,” said Oona. “My clansmen. They came with me to look for you, dear. But since we arrived I haven’t been able to communicate with them, and they haven’t been able to move. Some spell has been put on them. All the men are under the power of the Sebastocrater, the Prince of Mirenburg.”

  “Am I a prisoner, too?” I asked.

  “Probably not—nor the panther. Nor me. That is how we were able to bring you here and explain what has happened. Our friends came to beg the help of the Sebastocrater. All of us were tricked into entering his grounds and this building. But why he should league himself with such villains as Paul von Minct and Brother Klosterheim, we cannot think. As I say, either they have alarmed him with some trumped-up terror or they have promised him something he can’t resist.”

  “What could that be?” I asked.

  “The Stone, I suspect,” said Herr Lobkowitz. “He showed an uncommon interest in it when we arrived here looking for you. He asked if we knew where it was. We told him truthfully that as far as we knew, it was lost. He said it and its guardian had last been heard of in Mirenburg. We know, of course, that it was recently stolen from your grandparents’ London flat. That’s why they couldn’t meet us, as they had arranged. Do you the Devil’s work, eh? Could the Stone have acquired a new keeper? It determines its own situation, as we well know.”

  I wanted to ask Oona what her relationship was with me. I was sure she was my grandmother. But there were more urgent questions. “Are they feeding you?” I asked.

  “So far we have not been offered food,” said Lieutenant Fromental. He pointed to a big pair of saddlebags lying on a couch. “But Prince Lobkowitz packed plenty of provisions before we left Ingleton in search of you. You see, only a few hours have passed in this building since we arrived. I suspect, like the city, it exists outside the ordinary laws of time and space. Try a sandwich?”

  I wanted to ask about Onric, but Prince Lobkowitz spoke first.

  He seemed awkward. “We mustn’t alarm”—he looked at me—“mademoiselle.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “I know everything here is odd. Well, more than odd. I’m not scared. Especially now I’ve found you all. There’s this boy—”

  “You and I are the only ones who can leave,” said Oona. “We are the only two not under the spell.”

  “This Sebastocrater? What’s his game?”

  “None, I suspect. He means well, but he’s none too bright,” said Lord Renyard. “It’s my guess that Klosterheim and von Minct have fed him lies and have almost certainly frightened him into doing some stupid things, including invading the Deep City, which is protected by so many ancient spells. It could set off catastrophic consequences here. If Klosterheim and von Minct have convinced him they are helping you against us, that might be the answer to what’s happening. Of course, I don’t know him well. He and I never socialized, except at ceremonial occasions. He ruled here, and I ruled in the Deep City. Everything was as it should be. In equilibrium.”

  “Why is that equilibrium disrupted?”

  “It began some years ago,” said Lord Renyard. “When Manfred von Bek first visited us. He was not the cause of the disruption, merely an early sign of it. Some serious movement of the Cosmic Balance.”

  Prince Lobkowitz answered. “I have known this city and her rulers for many years. I have enjoyed conversations here and never had cause to suspect the kind of trick which has imprisoned us. My suspicion is that von Minct and Klosterheim have placed the Sebastocrater under some kind of charm or debt and are using him in their own plans.”

  “To find me?” I asked.

  “I think you either have something they want, my dear, or access to something they want.”

  “The Staff which Mrs. House mentioned.”

  Lord Renyard explained how he took me to see the oracle. Could Onric have been the boy Mrs. House was talking about? I gave up trying to introduce this. Nobody was listening to me. Understandably, they were focused on their own immediate problems.

  “Then it’s as we all guessed,” said Oona. “The Grail has disappeared again. What force works to disrupt the Balance over and over in increasingly close episodes?”

  “I believe it is our friend’s dreaming that creates the problems,” said Prince Lobkowitz. “Yet that dream is due to end very soon, and when it does it could mean oblivion for all.”

  “No.” Oona shook her head. “The dream’s merely ending will not bring destruction, of course, but what is in place at the moment of its ending will decide between continuing life or complete annihilation. He will die to ensure that equilibrium, but without our help he might die for nothing.”

  “And the child”—Prince Lobkowitz glanced at me as if apologizing for speaking of me in the third person— “she carries the secret?”

  “Klosterheim and von Minct evidently believe that. This will be their third attempt, however, to gain control of the Grail. Twice we have frustra
ted their plans. This time they hold more power than ever. A certain mademoiselle here plays a significant role in their machinations. That is why it is important you get to safety, child.”

  “All I want to do is get home.” My response was heartfelt. “But I did promise a boy I’d try to help him. He works in the factory over the river. He said—”

  “I don’t want to be gloomy,” said Oona, “but we could be moving further away from our world, not closer to it.”

  Seeing my alarm, she softened. “In terms of the multi-verse, which is vast and infinitely varied, we are not too far away,” said Oona. “All realities meet in the Middle March. You have no doubt already experienced that.”

  I nodded. Then I paused. “Did you say you had plenty of food, Lieutenant Fromental, because if you have, I wonder if it would be possible—?”

  “Of course, my dear. Of course. Bon appetit!” And he flung open the basket with a grand gesture. I saw now that Mum had packed some of it with my favorite snack foods. I picked out a sausage roll, some salt-and-vinegar crisps, an apple pie and a diet Dr Pepper, consuming them rather greedily. Almost at once I felt like a new girl!

  “Now you and I had better get out of here,” said Oona. “My warriors lack my particular gifts and were caught in the spell before I understood what was happening. I have to free them. They were loaned to me by one of my oldest friends. I doubt he would be amused by what I have led them into.”

  I looked at the Indians. “What tribe are they?”

  “They’re related to the Iroquois,” she said. “They call themselves the Kakatanawa, the People of the Circle.”

  “Who’s your friend?”

  She smiled widely. “You’d know him as Hiawatha. Do they still teach that poem at school?”

  “My granny reads it,” I said, giving her what I thought was a penetrating look.

  “No doubt,” said Oona, with a sudden grin. She was my granny, all right! Every instinct told me she was. I gave up trying to work out the logic of it. That only confused me more. So I stopped.

  Again the panther stood regally in front of me. I climbed on her back, and before I could turn and say good-bye to the others, the big cat leaped forward, raced across the lawn and jumped over the wall, into the wide avenue running beside it.

  I jumped down and ran into the shadows. Oona, a foot or two behind, joined me.

  “What are we going to do next?” I asked.

  “Find Klosterheim and von Minct,” she said. “It’s all we can do, I’m afraid. I’m going to have to use you as bait.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The only way to lure them out into the open is to have you return to Raspazian’s and be seen there. Then we have to hope that Klosterheim or his companion will seek you out. As long as they don’t come with the Sebastocrater’s guards, we might have a chance.”

  “But what will happen if they capture me?”

  “I’ll be there to rescue you. It’s all I can promise.”

  “Okay,” I agreed doubtfully, thinking the plan sounded pretty desperate. Still, I couldn’t suggest anything better.

  “So let’s get back to Raspazian’s,” she said.

  The panther had faded into the darkness. Oona seemed to know how to get to the Deep City the quickest way. We were at Raspazian’s before dawn. The Sebastocrater’s guards were no longer to be seen. Some of the mobsmen had returned and were hanging around outside the tavern, though they had lost much of their old spirit. Kushy appeared from the basement. He had another bloody bruise on his forehead and was hatless. His clothes were even more torn. But his gap-toothed smile widened as he recognized me.

  “’Arry ‘Awk be praised! You’re in one piece! And free! We thought the watch had you, missy. They only left a few hours gone. You’ll have to be careful ‘cause they could easily come back anytime. It’s you they’re after and no mistake, missy. You didn’t find Lord Renyard, then?”

  “I found him. He’s the Sebastocrater’s prisoner in the grounds of his palace. Unharmed but incapacitated.”

  “Kept there by sorcery,” added Oona.

  “That’s it, then, ma’am,” said Kushy. “Sorcery’s the only thing that could keep the master imprisoned. The Shallow City has broken its age-old compact with the Deep City, has it? The capturing of one king by another was always against our rules, so Lord Renyard told me.”

  “They say the times are desperate, Kushy,” I told him.

  “They must be, little missy. They must be,” he said bitterly.

  “And sorcery’s what’s needed to free him,” said Oona. “Who can help us, Herr Kushy?”

  He led us down the steps into Raspazian’s. Inside, the place was crowded with thieves and their doxies. All were heavily armed. All looked anxious. They gathered around us, wanting our news, horrified to hear that magic was at work. It was rare enough in Mirenburg. They weren’t so much shocked by the evidence of magic as by the use of it. Magic was unsporting, outside the accepted traditions. The Sebastocrater played unfairly. They began to speculate among themselves. Why would he do that? Was he in someone else’s power? Were the Lords of Law and Chaos taking an interest?

  At last Oona raised her hand. “I can only say that Klosterheim and von Minct are certainly somehow involved. Does anyone here know what power exactly they have over the Sebastocrater’s decisions?”

  “What do they want?” asked Mrs. Nagel, one of the “diver-divas.”

  “Put simply, they want this young lady.”

  “What does she have that they seek?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” I insisted. “I’m just—I’m just a little girl…” I had never sounded so pathetic to my own ears as I did then. How lame! I thought.

  “Why should we protect you?” someone else wanted to know. “Lord Renyard’s already captive. Ancient agreements have been broken, and magic’s abroad. Why shouldn’t we give you up to the Sebastocrater’s men?”

  I couldn’t answer. I tried but gave up. I felt very guilty, and I was beginning to cry. Oona’s arm around me was a small comfort.

  She spoke coolly. “Keep her safe and you can bargain. Give her up and you’ve nothing.”

  This calmed them. Sharp-featured Kushy stepped forward. He had found his plumed hat. His expression was grim and set. He spoke in a low, desperate voice. “We have our honor. We need magic of our own. We’ve no choice now. We must ask Clement Schnooke to help us.”

  I didn’t like the sound of Herr Schnooke. Neither, it seemed, did anyone else.

  Oona started to speak but then was interrupted.

  “I find such confidence flattering, gentlemen.”

  I turned my head towards the door. A round-faced, cheerful little man stood there. His shiny black hair was slicked down against his skull. His coat was a patchwork of red, gold and green. His brass-buckled shoes were dark green. His neck cloth was bright yellow. He looked like a clown, but the hiss of the crowd and the way they drew back from him told me he was disliked and feared by everyone.

  Kushy said in a defeated tone, “Mornin’, Clement Schnooke. Talk of the devil, eh, sir?”

  “I’ve been telling you for years that your snotty Sebastocrater deserves a spot of sorcery to put him in his place, Kushy. Now that zoological monstrosity you call a master has failed to save you from the Greek’s soldiery, you turn at last to Clement Schnooke. Suppose I refuse my services? Have you some other sorcerer who’ll make it his business to represent the interests of the Deep City the moment he gives his word on the matter?”

  “Lord Renyard forbade you to practice magic on pain of banishment,” said one of those furthest from him.

  The harlequin whirled to find him, pointing. “Banishment? Just as well I didn’t take my leave when it suited me, eh? What is it I can do for you? Now, I mean? Now I’m needed. Lord Renyard forbade—what was it? Where is Lord Renyard, by the way? Ah, you wish me to free your master from some imprisoning spell. So that he’ll return here and punish me for using sorcery? Doesn’t make sense to
me, fellow citizens. I’ll need a suitably generous stipend, I suggest, if I’m to risk releasing your haughty master. Then I’ll ask for a free hand to use black sorcery against the city. ‘Tis time that the old arts were practiced here again, and Clement Schnooke given the justice and rewards he deserves!”

  Another actor, I thought, whose success on stage had gone to his head. I felt cold and clammy in his sibilant presence as he preened and pranced defiantly in the faces of those who loathed him. He removed his cap and bowed to me. But he addressed Oona, the dreamthief’s daughter.

  “I’ve heard of you, dreamthief. And I met your mother once. She, too, insulted and demeaned me. You show me no respect. Tell me why I should show you any!”

  “I don’t want your respect,” said Oona evenly. “I want your services. What’s your price?”

  He cocked his wicked head to one side. “Price? A soul or two, perhaps?” He smiled his horrible smile again and danced before us in triumph, wriggling and writhing, pointing his toes and fingers, so that I half expected him to begin shedding his glittering skin. “But gold’s more useful. I need enough gold to take me out of here and see myself where I belong. Where I came from.”

  “Where’s that?” I asked.

  His cold, sardonic eyes fell on me. “Where’s that, little miss?” he hissed. “Where’s that?”

  I looked him back in the face. I knew evil by its eyes, and I knew the extent of its power by the depths of those eyes. “That’s what I asked.”

  He dropped his gaze and sighed. “I was once a prince in Cincinnati. Not the Cincinnati you may know, but a fabulous city, all slender towers and ziggurats, whose cats can speak in complex tongues, where my success as a sorcerer was acknowledged and appreciated, where the fair sex were sweet and plentiful. All I need for happiness is in Cincinnati.”