Seven Sorcerers (8 page)

The bushes rustled and she barely managed to stifle a scream. It was Jonas, his battered leather pack with its tarnished buckles slung loosely over one shoulder. He
was also clutching Monkey.

‘Yours, I think? Didn’t I see it tucked into your waistband?’

‘Do you mind!’ she said indignantly, snatching the toy. ‘It was Toby’s.’ She stuffed it back into the waistband of her pyjamas and smiled at him. ‘I kind of kept it with me, just in case I ended up forgetting like everyone else.’

‘You’re stolen now, remember. Outside that particular magic. It would only work if the rest of your life went on as normal and kind of filled in the hole left by Toby.’

‘I’m a pretty long way from normal right now,’ said Nin mournfully. She shuffled out of her hiding place after him.

‘And getting further every minute,’ said Jonas cheerfully. ‘Right, we should move on.
If
Boneman thinks we’re dead already, I’m hoping he won’t try coming after us. But, just in case, I’d feel happier living somewhere else for a while. There’s a town, Hilfian. I know someone there who will give us shelter.’

He was already settling the backpack properly into place. Nin watched anxiously.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I mean, for getting us into trouble. And for running away like that. I was so scared I didn’t know what else to do.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Running away is a great survival technique, so get used to it. We’ll probably do a lot of running away.’ Jonas started walking purposefully. Nin scurried after him.

‘Not that you asked,’ she mumbled, getting in his way,
‘but I didn’t say I was coming with you. I – I have to go and look for Toby.’ Fear uncurled inside her at the thought of heading off on her own.

Jonas stopped and turned to face her, his grey eyes looking seriously into her blue ones.

‘Nin, you have to understand, once a kid is taken to the House of Strood they’re gone. Really gone. As in never heard of again. Believe me, if I thought there was a chance I’d tell you. Anyway, you wouldn’t last five minutes alone in the Drift. You’ve got a lot to learn about surviving here. Like not to trust every cake-offering stranger you run into. Got that?’

‘OK, OK!’

‘I mean it. Especially when the balance of power is not in your favour, right?’

‘You’re talking about the staff ?’

‘Uh-huh. Anyway, my point is, you’d do best to stick with me, OK?’

Nin looked up into his steady grey eyes. Right now, he was the only person in the whole world, both the worlds, who knew her name and she just wasn’t brave enough to leave him.

‘Just so’s I know,’ she asked cautiously, ‘if I
was
going to look for Toby, which direction …’

‘North,’ said Jonas cheerfully. ‘And yes, I’m going north too, so you can go with me and still be looking for your brother, for a while at least.’ He looked her up and down, then sighed. ‘You’re a real sight, you are. Not to mention that you can’t run around in a torn T-shirt,
pyjama bottoms and fluffy socks.’

Blinking back tears of relief, Nin looked down at herself. Her T-shirt was a wreck with a big tear right across it and a sleeve dangling loose. Her once pink socks were caked with earth and her pyjama bottoms were filthy.

‘I liked those socks,’ she said mournfully, curling her toes.

‘We need to get you sorted out before we go anywhere.’ He started walking again. She noticed that he was heading back up the hill, towards number 27. ‘So first off, we’ll go back to the Widdern and see if we can find you some things.’

‘What? Do you mean steal stuff !’

‘Look, if your mum knew about all this she’d want to help you, wouldn’t she? You know she’d give you anything you needed.’

Nin opened her mouth then shut it again. She thought about it. ‘I tell you what, Mum puts all the things for charity in a bag in the garage. I bet there’s clothes there we could use.’

‘There you go,’ said Jonas. ‘That’s where we’ll start then.’

t still looked like home. Nin felt dangerously close to tears. She was nervous too, and running about in her nightwear wasn’t helping.

‘It didn’t seem so bad in the Drift,’ she said anxiously, crunching up her toes in their grubby socks. ‘Like, when you’re being kidnapped by hideous monsters or blown to bits by staff-waving maniacs, hanging about in your pyjama bottoms just isn’t an issue.’

‘You’re fine,’ said Jonas. ‘You’re a dropout, no one will even look at you. In fact they’ll do their best not to, you’ll see.’

He pushed open the gate of the Redstone house. Nin edged past him, peering up at the blank windows. Her mother would be at work, her grandmother out shopping, and Grandad? Well, hopefully he’d be upstairs in the flat with his usual newspaper and a cup of tea strong enough to stand the teaspoon up in.

‘Thing is, it’ll be locked,’ she said, ‘but there’s a window round the side and the catch is broken.’ Nin hurried to the small window hidden in the shadow of the trees.

‘Nice and sheltered, perfect for a spot of breaking and entering,’ she whispered more cheerfully than she felt. Even if she knew that her mother would gladly hand over anything to help her daughter – if she could only remember who Nin was – it still felt wrong.

She watched Jonas make short work of opening the window. She had a nasty feeling he might be used to this kind of thing.

‘You’ll have to go in,’ he said, ‘it’s too narrow for me. You can hand the stuff out.’

With a lift up from Jonas, squeezing through the gap feet first wasn’t hard and fortunately she didn’t land on anything painful. In the corner of the garage she found two bin bags, one of clothes and one of books and DVDs.

She pulled the clothes bag open and tipped out the contents. All of the things that tumbled on to the floor were her mother’s or grandparents’, her own belongings had disappeared along with the world’s memory of Ninevah Redstone. She sighed. They’d have to do, though how she would manage with just her socks to walk in she didn’t know. She picked out a pair of jeans, two T-shirts, a jumper and a jacket.

‘Hurry,’ called Jonas softly.

Nin pushed the clothes through the window to Jonas and began to shove the rest back into the bin bag. Except that there was one last thing wrapped up in a carrier bag. It was a pair of her old boots. Scuffed and worn, but still boots and still hers.

‘That is sooo brill!’ she said, scrambling back through the window with a leg-up from an old paint can. ‘My boots! How did they get missed!’ She pulled them on. They still fitted.

‘It’s a million-to-one chance,’ said Jonas cheerfully, wrapping the clothes into a bundle to stuff into his pack. ‘Maybe you’re just lucky.’

Nin scooped up the jacket to hand to him when she heard a sound. Jonas melted into the trees. Nin was about to follow him when she dropped the jacket. Stooping to grab it, she straightened up and found herself face to face with Grandad.

He was gripping a trowel and his gardening gloves. He watched her through ragged eyebrows, his face stern.

‘Um,’ said Nin, ‘I needed some clothes.’

Grandad looked her over carefully. He took in the torn T-shirt, the muddy pjs and the battered boots, then moved on to her tangled hair and smudged face.

‘I can see that,’ he said gruffly. ‘Are those leggings? Looks like someone’s old pyjamas to me.’

‘It’s the pattern,’ said Nin.

‘What’s your name then?’

‘Nin,’ said Nin hopefully.

‘Where d’you live?’

Nin was silent for a moment. ‘A world away,’ she said finally. Which was true if you took it that she kind of belonged in the Drift now.

‘Been hitching rides, have you? Didn’t anyone ever tell you that’s dangerous?’ Grandad looked her over again.
‘You don’t look beaten up or ill-treated and you don’t look like you’ve been on the streets for long either. Why did you run away? Had a row with your mum?’

‘Sort of.’

‘D’you know she didn’t mean it? Cos I’m telling you she didn’t.’

Nin felt her eyes fill with tears. She didn’t want them, they just happened.

Grandad looked at the tears thoughtfully. ‘Going back then?’

Nin nodded again.

‘I should take you to the police. They’ll see you home.’

‘No! I’ll go on my own,’ said Nin stubbornly.

Grandad looked at her for a long time, then heaved a sigh. He put down the trowel and threw the gloves after it, then rummaged in his pocket.

‘If I went to ring the police you’d be gone by the time I got back,’ he said. He pulled out a battered wallet. ‘So I’m making a choice here. You can keep the jacket, it’s only for jumble anyway. This,’ he handed her some notes, ‘is for a ticket home.’

Nin gaped at him. She took the notes stiffly.

‘You know what’ll happen to you if you don’t go home?’ Grandad looked stern.

Nin had never really noticed before how piercing his eyes were. She managed a smile and returned his gaze. ‘The bogeyman’ll get me.’

Grandad gave her another long look and then his face
crinkled into a grin. ‘That’ll do,’ he said.

Then he picked up the gloves and trowel and ambled off into the garden.

Jonas slid out of the greenery, grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the gate, hustling her out on to the street and down the hill.

‘Get moving! Whatever he said, he might be calling the cops now. What did he give you?’

Nin held out the money.

‘Not bad!’ He started off down the road, walking fast.

She scurried after him, pulling on the jacket as they went.

Irritably, Skerridge watched them go. His morning had been horrible. He hadn’t had time for breakfast, the sun made his head ache and his eyes smart, and the Quick had kept getting in his way as he ran around the town looking for Right Madam. He had reduced several children to hysterics (much to the distress of their parents), had eaten a small dog for barking at him and had set fire to the fire station for … well … for just being there really. He had searched everywhere but he had not found so much as a sniff of Right Madam.

So, after a lot of thought, he had finally worked out that she would go home. Even if her mother threw her out again, she would still try. With nowhere else to go and nobody to help her, there was nothing else she could do. Skerridge simply had to hide under a nice shady tree
in the garden and wait for her to come to him.

Unfortunately, the Bogeyman Code was firm on the point that kids had to be alone when snatched – at least ‘Never In Front Of Witnesses’ seemed pretty clear to Skerridge, whichever way he looked at it – and he hadn’t bargained for her turning up with a boy in tow.

Skerridge hadn’t automatically known the boy’s name, which meant that he had to be one of the Stolen. Beyond that Skerridge knew nothing and cared less. The kid was just an obstacle. A bright one, judging by the way he had slipped silently into the trees (only a few feet away from Skerridge) the instant Old Bloke turned up, but still an obstacle. On the plus side, at least Skerridge now knew where Right Madam was.

He waited a few minutes to let them get a head start, absentmindedly snapping up a small bird that had been stupid enough to land next to him. He munched, then frowned in disgust and spat out the feathers. Birds. Yuk.