The bundles he produced were similar to his coat – old and raggedy, their original colour lost beneath decades of oily stains. And they smelt.
‘Like an Ethanu,’ Jemima decided as she pulled one on over her own coat and fastened the laces up the front.
‘You know the Ethanu?’ Novarl asked.
‘Oh yes. I know the Ethanu. Are they here?’
‘Yes,’ the old man said. ‘They run the town for their Karrak masters. Let us hope they don’t discover you.’
‘For their sake,’ Taggie said firmly as she pulled the coat’s hood close around her head.
Outside the ancient oak, Jatheldorn held out her arms. ‘I will carry you all,’ she told them.
‘How?’ Jemima asked brightly.
‘On the breath of the wind, of course,’ Jatheldorn said. ‘For the wind is swifter than all things.’
Intrigued and a little apprehensive, Taggie took one of the sylphwitch’s hands, with Sophie holding her free hand, and Novarl holding hers. Jemima took Jatheldorn’s other hand, with Lantic holding on to her, and carrying Felix in the crook of his arm.
‘Away,’ Jatheldorn said, a word the wind captured and took with it as it gushed around the big old oak trunks of the forest.
Taggie gasped, then giggled as she found herself drifting just above the ground. She felt a very strange (but not unpleasant) magic washing around her. Jatheldorn was indeed carrying them all, swishing round the trees, and gliding above the snow-coated undergrowth.
Eventually Taggie caught a glimpse of several Ethanu through the trees ahead. The Karrak’s faithful lieutenants were the same here as they had been when she encountered them last year. They wore long leather coats, and a trilby-style hat whose brim cast a deep shadow over their head. The only visible part of their faces were the silver circles of their wire-rimmed glasses. Just behind them were smaller figures in distinctive red armour.
‘Nobody mentioned Rannalal,’ Sophie muttered sourly.
The little four-legged knights were the ones wielding axes, holding them high, ready to bring them down hard against the bark of trees that were sending green buds pushing through their crust of ice and mushy frost fungus.
‘They’re going to see us any second now,’ Lantic said in worry.
‘They cannot see that fast,’ Jatheldorn assured him.
That was when Taggie realized the Ethanu and Rannalal were motionless: the axes weren’t being raised in readiness, they were poised in mid-swing – frozen like the Realm around them.
They drifted out into a small clearing where all the trees were threaded with vibrant green. Jatheldorn halted right in the middle of the statue-like group of Ethanu and Rannalal. Everyone’s feet touched the ground again.
‘Have you enchanted them?’ Jemima asked cautiously.
The sylphwitch laughed lightly. ‘Oh no. It is not they who are enchanted this moment. We move too quick for them. Now let us make mischief before we leave.’
Taggie thought she understood. The sylphwitch had somehow made time speed up for them, leaving the rest of the Realm standing still by comparison. ‘I never heard of magic like this,’ she said.
Jatheldorn took hold of a Rannalal’s axe, and pulled it decisively, turning the sharp head away from the tree he was trying to fell, and bringing it down just above one of his feet. His hairy face with its pig-like snout never flickered as she adjusted his swing. ‘The angels taught the art to my ancestors when they brought us down from the Heavens,’ she said, her face now ancient again. ‘It is almost lost now.’
Taggie grinned at the rearranged Rannalal. When he moved again, the axe would go slamming into the ground right between his feet.
Suddenly everyone was laughing as they ran across the little clearing, tugging axes about, tilting the sharp blades, prising fingers off the handles so the axes would fly free. Manipulating the Rannalal was like manoeuvring them through thick liquid.
Jatheldorn held out her arms again, and everyone took hold. They glided silently out of the clearing. Taggie really wished she could stay and watch in real time, but it was not to be, she admitted reluctantly.
The sylphwitch took them to the edge of New Aurestel, and they touched the ground again. Sounds and movement burst around them like a wave on the shore. ‘I can carry you no further outside my forest,’ she told them.
So amid the ruins which surrounded the town, they put poor Felix into the sack where nobody would see him. Then Novarl walked on confidently, leading them to the train station.
The cube-buildings were bigger than Taggie had realized. Their chimneys belched out a yellow-tinged smoke which layered the still air, slowly sinking to the ground rather than wafting away.
Ethanu (always in sixes) marched their strange slow march along the roads. It was all Taggie could do not to let loose a destruction spell when they passed by. Her charmsward bands were aligned ready for one.
Rannalal patrols were everywhere, parading about in their red armour, making everyone else scurry out of their way.
‘There’s more of the dark folk than there are humans,’ Lantic observed.
‘Very few of us have children now,’ Novarl said. ‘Who would want to bring a child into this Realm, this life?’
Now he’d said it, Taggie couldn’t see any children anywhere.
‘That man is looking at us,’ Jemima said.
Taggie glanced in the direction her sister was indicating. The man seemed little different from anyone else using the road, except for his coat, which had a fur lining.
‘Who is?’ Taggie asked.
‘I don’t know him,’ Novarl said. ‘He’s not from Aurestel.’
Now he’d seen them looking at him, the man turned away and walked round the side of a building.
‘I didn’t like that,’ Jemima said. ‘No one else is curious about us.’
‘People are as suspicious as they are fearful,’ Novarl said sadly. ‘Everyone makes it their business to know everyone else’s business. Most people here would turn you in to the Dark Lords for better sleeping quarters or just the price of a decent meal. Please don’t judge us too harshly. It didn’t used to be like this.’
‘Nobody is judging anything,’ Taggie assured him. She gazed up curiously at the big square wall they were walking past. A low hammering sound was constant now. ‘What do they make in these places?’
‘The centre of each block contains a furnace. All day and all night we bash out metal shapes for the Karrak Lords.’
‘What sort of shapes?’ Lantic asked eagerly.
‘For the last few years my home foundry has made nothing but lead balls, no bigger than the tip of your finger,’ Novarl said. He pointed to another of the big cube-buildings. ‘They’re taken there, where Ethanu and other mages imbue them with bad magic. I don’t know what happens to them after that.’
‘Taggie glanced at the cube he indicated. She could feel dark guardian enchantments circulating slowly within the walls, alert and suspicious. ‘But I’d like to find out.’
‘You cannot,’ Jatheldorn said. ‘You risk much simply by being here. Do not submit to raw folly simply to satisfy your curiosity.’
‘I know,’ Taggie said. ‘What about sending one of your seespy birds inside?’ she asked Lantic.
‘And if it gets seen?’ he queried. ‘The Ethanu are accomplished mages, and the Karraks already know something is badly wrong here.’
Taggie pressed her teeth together. She knew her friends were right, but she also desperately wanted to know what scheme the Karraks were pursuing. In the end common sense won. ‘All right. Next time.’
‘I wasn’t planning on coming back here,’ Sophie retorted.
It took them a good quarter of an hour to walk across the joyless town to the station. There was a train waiting at the single platform. Its engine was a great iron beast, twice as big as any Taggie had seen before, with greasy steam jetting out from a dozen vents and valves amid the wheels and pistons, while black smoke chuffed noisily out of its funn
el. It was pulling half a dozen passenger carriages and two dozen trucks. As they waited on the platform with the other passengers, they could see men loading big crates from carts into the trucks while Rannalal guards stood around listlessly.
‘You should go home now, Novarl,’ Taggie said.
‘But—’
‘Please. You have been a tremendous help. I don’t want you to come to any harm because of what we do.’
‘I will stay with you for a while,’ a young Jatheldorn told Novarl. ‘My pardon, Queen of Dreams, but I cannot stray far from my trees for long. I would see that no harm befalls Novarl. Perhaps I should say hello to others in the town. I feel bolder now.’
‘Don’t be too bold,’ Taggie told the sylphwitch. ‘I cannot guarantee my success.’
‘You may have doubts,’ Jatheldorn said, now heavily wrinkled with age, but possessing a kindly smile. ‘Those who know you do not.’
Taggie touched Novarl’s arm. ‘It is your task now to tell the stories of the old times again, to keep the hope and memory of this Realm alive. You must not forget who you were, and who you can be again.’
‘I understand.’
‘Show your friends the rose,’ Jemima said brightly. ‘If I can come back, I will. And when I do I’ll show you what a whole Realm full of flowers is like.’
‘I will not forget you,’ Novarl said solemnly, and turned away so his tears would not be seen.
‘He’s back,’ Sophie said quietly.
Taggie hissed as she glanced round casually. Sure enough, the man in the fur-lined coat was standing at the far end of the platform. She didn’t believe in coincidence. ‘I don’t want him seeing us get on the train,’ she told the others.
‘We need a distraction,’ Lantic said.
Taggie gazed back at the nearest cube-building with narrowed eyes. ‘Perhaps I can shake things up a bit.’
‘You’ll be too much,’ Jemima said with a knowing smile. ‘I’ll do this one.’
The station had been built on one of Aurestel’s original parks. When the rail line was laid, no one had bothered to clear the remaining trees away. There was no point. So there they stood, around the station and the metal rails, like sentries left behind from another era, clad in white snow and smears of slimy grey frost fungus. Nobody paid them any attention any more.
So passengers and railway workers alike frowned and turned to stare when one of the biggest trees in the old park started to make odd crackling sounds. Their amazement grew as they realized the sounds were made by the mantle of crusted ice shattering. Sharp crystals cascaded down from the branches, ripping the frost fungus with it. People crept forward to gape in amazement at the spectacle.
As if the tree shrugging off its snowy winter coat wasn’t enough, the dark buds exposed on the branches began to swell. For the first time in centuries, astounding pink and blue flowers burst open. Cries of wonder went up, and the crowd surged forward, sweeping everyone on the platform along with them. Sweet yellow bananaberries started to fruit in the middle of the petals. The Rannalal didn’t know what to do about the phenomenon. Whistles were blown, and harsh angry grunts ordered people away. They were ignored.
More Rannalal arrived, their armour jangling as they ran to help their beleaguered colleagues. They started hitting people with their batons and sword hilts the way they always did. But just this once, under the towering altar of colourful flowers and ripening fruit, the cowed sullen human residents of New Aurestel didn’t meekly slink away. And the Rannalal were reminded exactly how strong people twice their height were, and how angry they could get.
It was only when the Ethanu began their slow inexorable advance on the station that people finally scampered away. Behind them, small four-legged figures in red armour lay on the ground, unmoving.
The driver of the great engine was keen to prove he was loyally following orders and departing on schedule. As the Ethanu arrived, the train let out a piercing whistle and slowly pulled out of the station with a lot of clanking sounds as metal pistons growled and strained.
Taggie watched the chaos through a window at the end of a carriage as they pulled away from the platform. The man in the fur-lined coat was nowhere to be seen. ‘I think we’re OK,’ she said. ‘That was cool, Jem.’
Jemima shrugged, trying not to look too pleased with herself.
A narrow corridor ran along each railway carriage. Taggie and her friends found a compartment in the third carriage that was empty. As soon as the door was shut, Taggie opened the sack. Felix bounded out, shaking his fur and complaining a lot. He grew tall enough for his nose to reach Jemima’s elbow.
‘How long did Novarl say the trip would take?’ Sophie asked.
‘Nearly a day to get to Valaran,’ Taggie replied. ‘But I think there are a couple of stops on the way.’
Jemima examined the old school lunchbox they’d packed back at Dad’s cottage, which now contained a single sandwich and a couple of chocolate digestive biscuits. She pulled a face and settled back on the wooden bench.
Sophie pressed her face to the window, watching the icy land slip past. They were rolling across the desolate plain at a surprising speed. New Aurestel was soon lost behind them. Long, straight snow mounds marked hedges that separated fields which hadn’t seen a crop for centuries. Occasional trees were black cracks against the grey sky. Nothing moved across the vast expanse, no people, no animals. She couldn’t see any buildings, not even ruined farmhouses. It was all very disheartening.
The silence that had claimed the compartment was depressing, as if the flat defeated lands were sucking their humour away. Sophie looked over at Taggie, seeing a miserable expression on her friend’s face. ‘You really want to know what they were making in those factories back there, don’t you?’
Taggie nodded. ‘It simply has to be connected to the Grand Lord’s plan to win the war. It might even be the proof we need to convince the Gathering to reconsider.’
‘I can find out for you,’ Sophie said. ‘It’s easy enough for me to fly back to the trucks and see what’s in those crates.’
Taggie gave her a hopeful look. ‘If someone sees you . . .’
Sophie grinned. ‘They won’t, you know they won’t. I’ll fly directly above the carriages. If there’s a guard on the trucks I’ll come straight back down. If the coast’s clear I’ll dive down on to the last truck and open a crate. Come on, Taggie, it’s not the kind of thing the Karraks will be expecting. There are no skyfolk in the Fourth Realm any more.’
‘Well . . . if you’re sure.’
Much to his annoyance, they left Felix behind in the compartment as the rest of them edged down the corridor. The other passengers had all drawn the blinds on their doors, so no one saw them passing. The door at the end of the corridor opened on to a small metal platform between the carriages. Freezing air blowing through the gap made everyone’s raggedy coats flap about.
‘All clear this way,’ Taggie said, looking into the next carriage.
‘Nobody following us,’ Lantic announced, keeping watch on their carriage.
Sophie hurriedly unfastened her coat, letting out a sigh of relief as her wings were freed from the grungy fabric. She strapped her crossbow across the front of her tunic, grinned reassuringly at Taggie, then took off, soaring straight up.
The wind hit her as soon as she cleared the carriage roofs, shoving her about. She got a mouthful of disgusting smoke from the engine, making her cough and blink the stinging vapour from her eyes. But she kept going straight up. First and always she scanned round to check for rathwai. There weren’t any.
When she was three hundred metres above the train she levelled out. It took a surprising effort to keep up, the train was travelling so fast. Which made it easy to gradually drop back, watching the carriages slip past below. She gave the end platform of the last carriage a careful examination, but there was no one there.
Sophie slowed down, allowing the long line of trucks to pass below her. The smoke from the engine cast a raggedy tai
l along most of the train, reducing visibility. That was good. That would help keep her approach unobserved.
Slowly she began to lose height, dropping back into the tattered streamers of smoke. She held her breath as the thin fumes churned around her. Then she was below the cloying murk, and the last of the trucks was directly below her feet.
Sophie landed in a crouch on top of some crates, drawing her crossbow in a swift motion to hunt round for targets. She waited for a few seconds, but there didn’t seem to be any alarm raised on the train. But there was a lot of bad magic close by; she could feel it leaking into the air like a unhealthy smell, making her shiver in foreboding.
She slung the crossbow back across her chest and took out a dagger. The tip was shoved into the end of a crate, where the wooden boards were nailed together. She wormed it deeper into the crack. When she pushed down, the plank began to creak upward. She worked the gap for a minute, loosening the thick iron nails, then the board sprang up.
The inside of the crate was packed with smaller boxes, all wrapped in tinfoil. Her dagger cut it open easily. Sophie frowned at the contents, she’d never seen anything like them. Yet instinctively she was cautious. The boxes held clips of brass cylinders the size of her thumb, with a lead ball wedged tight into one end. The lead was infused with the menacing violet glimmer of bad magic.
Sophie took a couple of the clips out, surprised by how heavy they were, and stuffed them into her belt pouch. Then she carefully pushed the board back into place, and used the hilt of the dagger to hammer the nails back down, enough to pass any casual inspection. One final check round to make sure no one was watching, and she took off through the wispy smoke.
She flew in a high arc back to the gap between the third and fourth carriages where everyone was waiting for her. Hovering ten feet above them, she waited for them to give her the all clear. Taggie stuck her thumb up, and she shot down on to the platform. Lantic was holding her coat ready.
‘Oh no,’ Jemima cried. She suddenly opened the door to the fourth carriage. ‘Stand in front of the glass,’ she told Taggie, and rushed into the corridor, slamming the door shut.