Read Back To The Divide Online
Authors: Elizabeth Kay
Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Action & Adventure - General, #Children's Books, #Magic, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Ages 9-12 Fiction, #Children: Grades 4-6, #Humorous Stories, #Science Fiction; Fantasy; Magic, #Pixies
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Thornbeak muttered under her breath, "Call those beaks? Third-rate nutcrackers."
Betony suppressed a smile and forced herself to concentrate on what she was reading. Only a few more words to go ...
And then Ironclaw burst through the door. The draft of air blew the feather across the hall, and Betony lost the thread of what she was saying. She grabbed the feather but it was too late; the blue glow among the rafters intensified, and there was a sudden smell of molasses. The doors slammed shut with a crack like a thunderbolt. The japegrins appeared to wake up with a start, but their eyes wouldn't open.
Ironclaw looked around him in alarm. "What did I do?" he asked.
"Messed up the countercharm to the incendiary spell," snapped Thornbeak. "The fire risk has gone, but the doors will be glued shut with super-molasses and so will a lot of other things. The only reason we aren't stuck fast is because we're brazzles, and the only reason Betony isn't is because she picked up my feather. What are you doing here, anyway?"
"Rescuing
you,
" mumbled Ironclaw. "Made a bit of a cuddyak's ear of it, didn't I? I suppose I'm a prisoner as well now."
"Not necessarily," said Thornbeak. "We know of a secret exit. Fleabane won't be able to reinstate the spell for another
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moon or two -- you can't apply something like that twice in quick succession, it simply won't take. I hope there's a tunnel to the beach that hasn't fallen in, because the penalty for neutralizing the spell is death. Grab that lantern, Betony, we're going to need it."
It wasn't quite as simple as that, though. The bookcases behind which the exits lay were now glued shut with super-molasses.
"Bites and stings,"
swore Thornbeak, "I'm going to have to try and dissolve some of this stuff. It's a risky process, though -- I could get stuck myself."
"Then let me do it," said Ironclaw gallantly.
"Excuse me?" said Thornbeak, as though she couldn't believe her ears.
"I'll do it," said Ironclaw, feeling brave and chivalrous and scared stiff.
Thornbeak looked worried. "That's what I thought you said. Are you feeling all right?" Ironclaw glared at her.
They went back to the first bookcase. Ironclaw rubbed his feathers along the crack as Thornbeak recited a quick melting spell. The molasses began to trickle away, forming a little puddle on the floor. The puddle got bigger and changed shape, piling up on itself like candle wax. And then, with a sudden creak, the bookcase slid to one side and a long dark tunnel opened up before them.
Ironclaw led the way, and Betony followed. But as
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Thornbeak went to slide the bookcase back into position, she found she couldn't quite close it. The molasses that had solidified on the floor was in the way -- and part of it was now shaped like a paw.
"I think we've just had a piece of really bad luck," said Thornbeak. "Molasses and sinistroms have always had a strong magical connection. Everyone knows that if you dunk a sinistrom's pebble in a glass of fertle-juice, it turns it into molasses. There must have been a little blob of shadow-molasses lying around somewhere. By changing the composition of
all
the molasses in the library, I've resurrected a sinistrom."
"And it won't just be any old sinistrom," said Ironclaw. "If it had its pebble juiced, it will have been a renegade. I think we'd better get a move on before it completes its transformation and decides to follow us. It may not have eaten for a few decades."
Pignut, Felix, and the wise-hoof were standing at the head of the line outside the palace, waiting for an audience with Flea-bane. Felix was feeling increasingly nervous at the prospect of singing Turpsik's anthem to the president. He adjusted the strap on his backpack and picked at the sleeve of his purple tunic. Anything to take his mind off it. A murmur ran through the line, and he glanced up.
People were shading their eyes with their hands and staring up at the sky. A huge gray bird was descending, carrying
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something in its talons. It was far too big for a brazzle, and it only had two legs. The three heads made up for that, however. Felix felt his hair whip back from his face in the draft from a pair of enormous wings as the creature came in to land, and he pulled his hood back up to hide his ears. By the time he'd tucked away the problem, the bird was on the ground.
"Will you look at that," said Pignut, pointing to the thing the bird had been carrying.
Felix felt his heart start to beat faster.
"It's one of those mythical vehicles," said the wise-hoof knowledgeably. "A tank."
"Land Rover," said Felix automatically and then wished he hadn't.
"Remarkably well read for a japegrin of your age, aren't you?" said the wise-hoof. "I thought all you learned at school was twistery and bigotry."
Felix didn't reply; he was feeling too upset. Somehow, Snakeweed had managed to cross his Land Rover over the Pennine Divide, and no doubt he'd brought his sinistrom Architrex with him -- in lickit form. This world really didn't need Snakeweed promoting the internal combustion engine; printing had been quite bad enough.
A japegrin with hair the color of dried blood stormed out of the palace and strode over, with the clear intention of giving the triple-head a piece of his mind.
"Have you left the library unguarded?" he yelled.
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The bird shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, and its three heads looked from one to the other and back again.
"Get back there and do your job!" shouted the japegrin.
The triple-head opened its wings and knocked the speaker flat with the rush of air as it took off. Three more japegrins appeared from inside the palace and ran over.
The door of the Land Rover opened, and a japegrin stepped down onto the grass. He was followed by a lickit. A gasp went up from the line.
"We're watching history being made here," said Pignut to Felix. "That's Snakeweed, Sam. Snakeweed himself."
Felix wondered who Pignut was talking to for a moment -- then he remembered that Sam was his alias. "Is that Fleabane?" he asked, pointing to the japegrin with the dark red hair.
"Yes," said Pignut. "Curse his toenails."
Fleabane wasn't a typical japegrin. He was small and tubby, and his hair was a dark Titian red, not ginger. His eyes were green -- but a deep bottle green rather than emerald. He clambered to his feet and stared at Snakeweed as though he couldn't believe his eyes. "Well, well," he said eventually. "Looks as though Catchfly got lucky on Tromm Fell. Remarkably fast work; I shall give him a commendation. I suppose I should congratulate the triple-head as well." He turned to another japegrin. "Send that bird a cauldron of deviled creepy-biters."
"Certainly, Mr. President, sir."
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"So, Snakeweed," said Fleabane. "My name's Fleabane; you won't remember me, I was a very junior member of your team in Tiratattle."
"I was intending to visit the king and queen," answered Snakeweed smoothly.
"They've abdicated," said Fleabane. "Andria's the japegrin capital now. And you're under arrest."
"What's the charge?"
"We'll think of something," said Fleabane. "The burning's scheduled for next Thursday."
"I demand a proper trial," said Snakeweed.
"Oh, you'll get one," said Fleabane. "The more witnesses there are the better. Now then. Tell me how that vehicle works."
"No idea," said Snakeweed.
"Take him away," said Fleabane to a japegrin with a thick, ugly wand. "And make sure the closing spell on the door of his room is word perfect."
The white-robed lickit started to sidle away.
"Hey!" yelled Snakeweed. "You're in this with me, Archie! Don't you dare slink off!"
"Not so fast, lickit," said Fleabane. Then a strange expression crossed his face, as though he'd just smelled something unpleasant. The japegrin next to him seemed to have smelled something, too. It wouldn't be long before someone put two and two together and came up with sinistrom stench.
The lickit glanced around. There were far too many japegrins
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for even the most energetic of killing sprees; he'd be better off out of it. He switched to his four-legged sinistrom form, banking on the surprise element to give him enough time to complete his transformation. Then he legged it, hoping that no one would have the presence of mind to aim their wand at him. He was nearly at the road when a shower of sparks singed his coat. But the main strike had been somewhere to his right; he took evasive action, and the next hail of sparks landed to his left. Then he was on the main highway and out of range.
Fleabane signaled to two of his militia. "After him," he said.
The two japegrins looked at each other. It was clear that neither of them fancied in the slightest the idea of hunting down a sinistrom.
"Now, not next week!" shouted Fleabane.
The japegrins looked sheepish and ran off toward the road.
Pignut laughed. "They'll find the nearest bar and down a flagon of fertle-juice," he said to Felix. "Who'd want to come face-to-face with a sinistrom? They've got the most powerful jaws of any living creature, and they don't mind if their food isn't quite dead when they start to eat it. First one I've seen, I'll be honest about it. What a morning. And to think we were here, on the spot! Just wait till I tell my kid."
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***
4
***
If Felix hadn't been so nervous about singing the anthem to Fleabane, he would have found the next hour's wait quite amusing. A japegrin had been instructed to move the Land Rover, but he didn't have a clue how to go about it. The headlights came on and went off again. The windows went up and down a few times, the turn signal flashed, the windshield wipers zipped from side to side, and the washer sent up a jet of water. When the engine finally roared into life it became apparent that the vehicle had been left in gear, as it leaped forward like a startled gazelle and then stalled. The japegrin punched the steering wheel in fury, and the sudden blare of the horn made everyone nearly jump out of their skins.
Eventually Felix and Pignut were allowed into the palace, although the wise-hoof was told to remain outside.
"Right," barked Fleabane. "What's your petition? You get three minutes, and then I see the next in line."
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Pignut handed him the sheet of paper with the words on it and said, "The anthem, Your Excellency. Turpsik the one-eye thought you might like to hear it sung."
Fleabane leaned back in his chair, rested his hands on his portly stomach, and said, "Go ahead."
"Sam's going to do it," said Fleabane. "He's a song merchant."
Once again Felix wondered who Sam was for a moment before he remembered. He took a deep breath and went for the first note. Nothing happened. He cleared his throat and tried again. This time his voice obeyed him, but he was glad he knew the words by heart -- if he'd had to refer to the song sheet, his shaking hands would have betrayed his lack of professionalism. He managed to finish the anthem without making any mistakes and heaved a silent sigh of relief.
"Like it," said Fleabane. "Nice undercurrent of violence. It's arrived just in time for Snakeweed's trial, as well. Tell you what, why don't I give you free tickets for the front row, and then you can sing the anthem through so that everyone gets the feel of it."
Pignut nudged Felix, and he realized he was meant to express his gratitude. "Thank you," he said, although he found the idea of Fleabane selling tickets for a trial unspeakable, even if it was Snakeweed's. Fleabane tossed him a gold coin, and they left the palace.
"The trial won't be today," said Pignut. "Do you have anywhere to stay?"
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"I think I'll try Bedstraw's," said Felix, remembering the name of the lodging house.
"Oh, right. See you in court, then."
Felix tightened the straps on his backpack and headed off toward Bedstraw's. He might as well stay there as anywhere else while he was searching for a tunnel to the library, and the gold coin would buy him several days' board. He didn't think Bedstraw herself would recognize him; when she'd seen him the previous year, he'd been disguised as a tangle-child.
The lodging house was full of japegrins, but there was one room left. Over lunch, which was served at a communal table with bench seats on either side, Felix told the tale of the phony eye remedy over and over again. No one questioned it, and he began to feel more confident and started asking about the coastline.
"You only just arrived, then?" asked someone, helping himself to another hunk of crusty onion bread.
Felix thought quickly. "Yes," he said. "I was quite ill with that eye problem, and I stayed with an aunt in the forest to recover."
"Did she take you to the castle? My little'un's been on at me to take her there."
Felix had no wish to display any further ignorance, so he simply said, "No. She thought the sea air in Andria would be good for me."
The japegrin laughed. "The air around here is thick with