Back To The Divide (33 page)

326

"Mm-mm-mm,
" said Fuzzy, rolling her eyes in the direction of the lake.

Snakeweed's fire-breather, thought Felix. Clever Fuzzy. It's covered in scales, not feathers. Two big problems, though. I'll have to get it away from Snakeweed somehow -- assuming he hasn't left already -- and I've never even
been
on a fire-breather, let alone piloted one. Taking Fuzzy with me would slow me down -- and she won't be able to cross the predator-hedge with me, if it's feather-proof. Can I trust Scavenjit not to spit-roast her in my absence?

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" he asked casually.

"Breakfast," said Scavenjit. "Then lunch. And after that, dinner."

This didn't sound terribly promising. "Is that all you do, then?" he asked. "Eat? Don't you have any hobbies or anything?"

"Meteorology," said Scavenjit unexpectedly.

"Weather?
You're interested in predicting the
weather?"

"What's wrong with that? We love storms, we carrion-wings do. The one last night was a doozy. There's not much that beats flying around in a good thunderstorm, shrieking. If we knew in advance when we were going to get a howling gale we could make preparations."

"What sort of preparations?" asked Felix, intrigued.

"Oh, a bit of flocking and convening. It's much more fun if there's lots of you."

327

So the noise last night wasn't just the wind, thought Felix. The carrionwings were out and about in it, having a party. He suddenly remembered the storm-oracle in his pocket. It was perfect; he couldn't have found anything better if he'd tried. He took it out and cupped it in his hands. The transparent crystal clouded immediately this time -- but it stayed yellow. "Might get a bit over- cast later," said Felix, making an educated guess, "but there won't be another storm tonight."

[Image: Storm-oracle.]

Scavenjit looked at him. "That's not one of them storm-oracles, is it?" she asked. Felix nodded.

The carrionwing's craggy old face was suddenly suffused with longing.

"If you look after Fuzzy for me while I enter the castle," said Felix, "you can have it. After I get back, naturally."

Scavenjit nodded furiously, her eyes returning to the little crystal globe. "I can speed things up a bit, as well," she said. "I'll carry you back to the lake in my talons, drop you by the fire-breather, and harry the japegrin for you. We can hide the brazzle chick in my own dear hollow tree for the time being."

The hollow tree stank, but Fuzzy was in no position to complain. The journey back to the lake was terrifying, like being dangled from a parachute with a mind of its own, but to Felix's delight the fire-breather was still there. Snakeweed

328

was just tightening the straps of the saddle. Scavenjit dropped Felix a little way off, out of sight behind a bush. Then she flew over to Snakeweed and dived into the attack, screeching at the top of her voice.

Snakeweed didn't have anything with which to defend himself, and Felix could hear him swearing and flapping his arms around. He peeked around the bush. Scavenjit swooped again, her claws extended, and Snakeweed lost his hat. The fire-breather seemed totally unmoved by the whole thing -- its hide was far too thick for a carrionwing to bother it.

"Don't just sit there, you lump of old leather!" yelled Snakeweed. "Burn its wings to a crisp!"

The fire-breather ignored him and started to steam-clean its tail.

Scavenjit dived again, and finally Snakeweed had had enough. He ran for cover, and Scavenjit made sure he ran in the opposite direction from where she'd dropped Felix. Once Snakeweed was out of sight Felix sprinted over to the fire-breather, trying to remember the little he knew about the creatures. You just had to instruct them, didn't you? Although they couldn't speak, they understood simple commands. They also understood abuse, and they didn't like it much; they had their pride.

Felix waited until the fire-breather had finished attending to its tail. He could still hear Snakeweed shouting in the distance, and he knew that Scavenjit would keep the japegrin out of the way until she saw the fire-breather take off.

329

"Excuse me," said Felix politely, indicating the forest behind him, "could you take me in that direction, please?"

There was a momentary pause while the fire-breather regarded him with its bloodred eyes and considered his request. Felix wondered whether there was a password he should have used. Would the creature only respond to Snakeweed or was it free to decide for itself? It glanced toward the forest's edge and curled its lip in an expression of disgust. Perhaps an insult was an insult, employer or no employer, and Snakeweed didn't merit any loyalty. The fire-breather snorted suddenly and got to its feet. Felix scrambled into the saddle and fastened his seat belt. There was a brief gallop along the sand at the water's edge -- and then they were up in the air and winging their way over the trees.

Before long the predator-hedge appeared below them, a dark sinuous shape twisting its way around the outside of the moat that separated it from the turrets and walls of the castle. Fortunately there was a grass verge on the castle side of the moat, otherwise the only place to land would have been in the courtyard -- and there wouldn't have been enough room for the fire-breather to pull up. A few gaily painted boats were moored to metal rings, and there was a small landing stage with some sort of sign erected on it. Felix asked the fire-breather to touch down on the side by the drawbridge, and it executed a very neat turn and complied. Even so it was a close thing, and they nearly ended up in the water.

330

The entrance to the fortress was protected by an iron portcullis, but this was jammed halfway down, so Felix could walk through. He saw why almost immediately -- the wise-hoof who had been in the process of lowering it by means of a heavy chain had fallen asleep in the middle of his task and was still standing there, his dark bearded head bowed on his chest. There were stone stairs under the archway leading up to the battlements -- but two guards were sitting on them, also dead to the world. Felix would have had to step over them to go up, and he didn't like to, somehow. A piece of wood with some lettering burned into it was lying on the ground. He picked it up and looked at it. It Said: OPEN ALL YEAR, EXCEPT ON DANCE-DAYS. ENTRY: ONE SILVER COIN, CHILDREN HALF-PRICE.

The archway opened out into a cobbled courtyard, and on the other side of that was a door. There was an eerie silence that seemed out of place; this wasn't a ruin, it was a properly maintained castle, and recently built, by the look of it. The stones weren't weathered, they were new. He had seen nothing like this in Andria -- there hadn't been any arrow slits in the palace because there had never been any battles. Felix walked across the courtyard, the sound of his footsteps echoing in a faintly disturbing way. He lifted the latch of the door, and it swung open, creaking. To his left another flight of steps led upward, but this time there was no one on them. Ahead of him was a second door, but this one was open, and he could see a great hall, with swords and shields decorating

331

the walls. Swords and shields were strange, too. The only weapons Felix had seen before -- apart from the nomads' scimitars -- were crossbows and spears and knives, which were used for hunting. The hall was full of wooden tables and benches. A few people were sitting at them, their arms on the tables, their heads on their arms. They seemed to be grouped in families; some of the sleepers were children, and the drowsiness had overtaken them in the middle of lunch. There were tangle-folk and japegrins and diggelucks, and even a party of nomads. The food was still fresh, as bewitched as the diners. Felix decided not to try any, although he was hungry and the fruit syllabubs looked delicious.

The kitchens were behind the great hall; the cooking fires had gone out, and the lickits who worked there were slumped over their work surfaces, snoring gently. A whole cuddyak had been spitted over the biggest hearth. Felix took a tentative sniff, but it smelled fine. A spike next to the serving hatch was festooned with little pieces of paper, and each one had a different order on it -- two mushroom omelettes, five portions of squirtled seaweed, one melted cheese chubba. Next to it was a sign reading: no orders taken after sunset. There was something very odd about all this.

Felix went back to the flight of steps, took a deep breath, and went up the spiral staircase. The first floor boasted bedrooms with four-poster beds and silver candelabras on the mantelpieces, each room grander than the last. They were,

332

however, all numbered, and there were little signs on the walls reading: please leave wands at reception . Fluffy cream towels were folded neatly on the bedspreads, and there were new bars of soap on the washstands. It was more like a hotel than anything.

The last room was room 13, and as Felix entered he almost tripped over a spinning wheel standing just inside the door. The curtains here were a deep blue velvet, and the paintings were all of mythical beasts -- leopards and elephants and zebras. The bed was hung with gold and silver tapestries, and this time there was somebody in it. Felix walked over to the bed, knowing he'd found his fair lady.

She was older than he'd expected but still extremely beautiful. Her hair was as blond as Betony's, and her ears were just as pointed. She was wearing a tiara, which sparkled with gems that were every color of the rainbow, and a dress made of milky green silk. Her face looked familiar, however. He stood there, puzzled, trying to remember where he'd seen her before. But the memory refused to surface and in the end he gave up, braced himself, bent over her, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

333

***

18

***

Her eyes opened immediately. They were a bright emerald green and as puzzled as his own had been a moment earlier. She sat up and looked around. "Where is he?" she asked.

"Who?"

"The king."

"Your father?"

"My husband, silly."

Felix shrugged. "I don't know. There are a lot of people asleep downstairs."

"He did try to stop them from putting me under, you know, so they may have killed him. He was ever so brave." She bit her lip and looked sad for a moment. Then she smiled and said, "That was all a hundred years ago, presumably."

"Presumably," said Felix, although the castle didn't look that old.

"Oh, well," she said. "I suppose I'd better marry you, then. You're a bit young, though. Do you like dancing?"

334

Felix blanched. He hadn't expected this.

She looked at him appraisingly. "You've got good legs. I love dancing. The midnight wriggle, the star squirm ... I expect there are lots of new ones now, aren't there? Tell me about them."

That
was where he'd seen her before. At the dance festival he'd attended the previous summer. He remembered the king and queen joining the tangle-children on the stage and twining in and out of them in the most ridiculous set of moves he had ever seen, full of unexpected little hops and jumps. "You're the queen of Andria, aren't you?" he said.

"How clever of you to know that," said the queen. "And you're the prince of where?"

"I'm not a prince at all," said Felix.

"But you must be."

Felix shook his head.

"Are you quite sure?" Her brows drew together in consternation.

"Quite sure. The sleeping spell needed a mythical being to break it. It would have been easier if I'd been a prince, but being human was the most important part."

He suddenly wondered what would have happened if he hadn't found her, and Thornbeak had tried to use the snail to wake her with a kiss instead. He fought back an attack of the giggles and had to cough to disguise it.

"I'm Felix," he said, once he was sure he could keep a straight face. "You invited my friend Betony to dinner last

335

year, and you gave her the book that contained the spell that cured my heart condition. And you've only been asleep for a few weeks, not a hundred years."

The queen looked astonished.
"A few weeks?"

"It was Fleabane who pricked your finger with the spindle, wasn't it?"

She nodded. "Yes. He told us we were coming here for a vacation, and then he turned quite beastly. How did you know?"

"It's all fitting into place," said Felix. "Everyone was told you'd abdicated. But actually killing you would have been very dangerous -- if any evidence was found, the population of Andria would have risen up against Fleabane, whatever the outcome.
This
was a much better solution -- put you to sleep for a hundred years, in the middle of a forest. Stopped anyone from finding you with the royalty location spell, as well; you have to be awake for it to work. What is this place, by the way? It looks like something from
my
world, not yours."

"Well, of course it is, silly," said the queen. "It's the very latest entertainment idea, built a few months back. A mythical building. People dress up as human beings and have pretend sword fights on the battlements. There's a snack bar and boat rides, and you can even book a room for the night, although it's fearfully expensive. It would never have been possible before printing, of course -- the advertising campaign must have cost a small fortune."

Felix suddenly remembered what the japegrin had said,