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Authors: Caro King

Seven Sorcerers (21 page)

BOOK: Seven Sorcerers
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‘What?’ murmured the girl opposite, lowering her own book. ‘Not me!’

‘Well, who was it then?’ snarled Bookgirl sarcastically. ‘Mr Nobody?’

Skerridge moved on. He had spotted a whole carton of orange juice further down the carriage. Which was nice because the crisps had made him thirsty.

‘So what now?’ asked Nin, following Jonas down on to the platform.

‘This is Cambridge, right. We change trains again, but the next one should be the last.’

‘Wow!’ Nin stared into the carriage they were passing, the one up from theirs. ‘What’s going on in there? Looks like a riot. That woman looks like she’s really going to hurt someone with that knitting needle. And …’

‘Come on! We’ve got to find the right platform.’

Nin shrugged and hurried after him.

Behind her a paperback whirled out of the window
and hit a station guard.

On the concourse Jonas peered at the departures board and Nin watched three guards and a handful of policemen hurtle towards the train from King’s Cross.

Skerridge had a nasty moment when he couldn’t figure out which platform they had gone to next. He solved it by doing a superspeed tour of all the trains in the station. Fortunately for the Rail company and its passengers he found them on the third one he looked in.

Nin dozed for most of the second trip. When they arrived at Bury St Edmunds, they had to walk all the way from the station to the centre of the town to find the Abbey.

‘Problem is,’ Jonas said, ‘there’s supposed to be a gateway in the gardens of the Abbey, but I’ve no idea where exactly.’

Nin pointed to an extra shadowy place by the bridge where the sunlight didn’t quite reach, even though it should have.

‘What about that?’ she said, nervously.

Jonas studied it for a moment. ‘Well spotted, kid. Follow me, and stay close.’

On the Drift side the bridge looked much older, the wood was rotten, and dangling from one of its beams was a corpse.

Nin looked away quickly, just as its eyes sprang open. She hurried up the bank after Jonas, her feet slipping in the soft earth and covering the sound of something moving squishily behind her. A damp and foul-smelling hand touched her cheek and out of the corner of her eye she saw blackened fingertips and bone. She was so used to it all by now she didn’t bother to scream, she just focused on scrambling up the bank and the putrid thing soon slithered away behind her, its hand catching in her hair.

‘I wouldn’t hang about if I were you,’ said Jonas, grinning at her. ‘Things live in Quickmares, y’know.’

‘Yeah, like I kind of got that!’ grumbled Nin glancing over her shoulder. The bridge was eerily quiet. She scurried to keep up with Jonas. ‘So where next?’

‘East. We’re heading for the coast. We’ll walk the rest of today, then sleep. We should be there by lunchtime tomorrow.’

Nin felt a lurch in her middle. ‘At the House you mean?’

‘Uh-huh. Let’s just hope your plan works.’

‘What plan? I have a plan?’

‘Something about luck?’

‘That’s not a plan!’

Jonas grinned. ‘It’s as good a plan as any!’

‘What will you do?’ she asked nervously. It suddenly hit her that he might be going to leave her at the House and go back. ‘P’raps we can find your life too,’ she said hopefully.

Jonas turned to face her. ‘It’s been four years since the BM got me,’ he said. ‘Far too long.’ He smiled. ‘Even so, I’m going with you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Got nothing better to do.’

The knot in Nin’s middle uncurled. ‘Thank you,’ she said meekly.

It was a nice day, by Drift standards. The sky was bright and full of cloudy castles. Ruined castles. Nin was beginning to see how much the Long Land was suffering. Its cry for help was everywhere. She felt sorry for it and wished there was something she could do. Even so, knowing that Jonas wasn’t going to leave her, she was beginning to feel very positive about things.

‘You know, you’re right,’ she said as they began to climb a low hill towards a ramshackle old hut with its door half off and a crumpled roof. ‘I mean, look how everything has worked out OK so far. I got away from Skerridge, Grandad gave us the money, bucketloads of bad guys have been after us, but we always escape. So why shouldn’t my luck hold, eh?’ Nin smiled. ‘My point is that however frightening things get, nothing really bad will ever happen.’

She looked up just as the sun disappeared and the dark clouds raced in with astonishing speed. Lightning cracked and the thunder was so loud and so sudden that she screamed.

‘Nin!’ Jonas yelled. ‘RUN! The hut. NOW!’

Rain came down in a sheet of liquid ice, the wind tore at her hair and made her gasp for breath. She ran, her
lungs bursting with the effort. Jonas was a dark slash ahead of her and she followed him, unable to see through the rain pouring down her face. They were nearly at the hut, but it was going to be too late because she could hear them coming, baying like wolves only worse. She could feel the cold wind of their breath when Jonas got between her and them. He pushed her towards the broken doorway. She could see empty gloom behind it, but it was shelter.

‘Go!’ he yelled and she went.

She tumbled in past the hanging door, feeling moss and dead leaves underfoot, then turned to look back. Jonas wasn’t at her heels. His pack had fallen and lay trampled in the mud. He stood in the heart of the Storm and the Hounds were all around him, their cloudy shapes and lightning eyes beating him on to his knees as she watched. When they howled their breath made frost on the air and when they went they took Jonas with them.

‘JONAS!’ Nin screamed. She ran back into the open. The rain was still falling, but the thunder was moving away. He didn’t come back.

She stared blankly as the clouds above her grew lighter.

Then she started to run.

The rain-wet air sizzled across the fields and Skerridge popped out of superspeed to glare at the sky. He’d only
been gone five minutes to track down a bit of breakfast and it was pretty obvious what had happened. The Storm had got them at last …

Except there were boot prints in the mud. Small ones. Running. The Hounds had only got one of them and it wasn’t Right Madam.

Skerridge brightened up. With Obstacle gone and Unknown Quantity out of the picture for the time being, he’d be able to whip Right Madam into a sack in no time. He studied the boot prints.

‘Chasin’ thunder eh? Well, she ain’t got a Quick’s chance in the Heart,’ he muttered and was gone in a flicker.

19
Chasing Thunder

ilas Penny wondered why he hadn’t waited for the rain to stop before setting out towards the nearby town of Rife. The damp wasn’t going to help his back any. After he’d twisted it a month ago hauling a sack of dried chestnuts about, he was beginning to give up hope of it ever being right again.

He was peering irritably up at the sky when the girl arrived. Before Silas could do anything about it she had pulled herself up on to the cart next to him.

‘Follow that storm!’

To his astonishment, Silas flicked the reins, encouraging the ancient horse to go faster. The cart jolted and bounced along the track and he winced as his back gave a stab of pain.

‘My friend’s in there!’ wailed the girl. She looked muddy and frightened, but something in her eyes showed a grim determination. ‘He gave himself up so that I could get away.’

Silas drew in a sharp breath. ‘Well, girl, I’ll take you as far as I can along this track, but I doubt Ben here will be
able to keep up with the Hounds.’

He flicked the reins again. The girl obviously had to have a go or she wouldn’t feel right about it. She’d find out quickly enough that trying to catch the Hounds was no use.

Ahead of them the clouds raced full of lightning, drawing steadily away across grassy fields of buttercups and low, purple hills. Thunder rumbled, making Ben whinny with fright.

‘Come on, lad,’ called Silas, although he hardly needed to. The horse was moving faster than he had ever moved before, hurtling over the ground at an astonishing pace, eating up the distance. He was beginning to enjoy it too, with his ears laid back and a gleam in his eyes far younger than his many years.

Silas risked a glance at the kid sitting next to him, eyes fixed on the storm ahead. Now they were gaining on it, though only a little. There had to be magic at work and Silas wondered where it was coming from. He caught a glimpse of twisted leather strands around the girl’s neck. Whatever it was that dangled from those strands was glowing, he could see the fiery light reflecting off the bottom of her chin.

‘It’s going left!’

‘Darn,’ muttered Silas. To his surprise he meant it. ‘I can’t take Ben over the river here. There’s a chap makes a living out of ferrying folk across. Down that way.’

The girl was already scrambling off the cart as Silas pulled Ben to a halt. He watched her slip and slide down
the bank towards the river.

Suddenly there was a rushing sound and something heavy landed behind him. Whatever it was – and it was moving so fast he could barely see it – hurtled across the seat and knocked him off the cart.

Lying spread out and face down, Silas yelled as the thing trampled over him, just missing important areas of his insides by a hair’s breadth. There was a frightening crack from his back. He rolled over with a groan and then gingerly clambered to his feet. He straightened up. In fact he straightened up more than he had been able to straighten for weeks.

BOOK: Seven Sorcerers
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