Edda Page 12

  “Let’s drag him.”

  Between them, they pulled Gunnar headfirst to the hole and then down to the floor below. This chamber was filling with gray tendrils of smoke from the fire above, but the air was much more breathable. From the top of the next stairwell, Athena and Milan were looking up tentatively, guns raised.

  “We’re good. Head back out!” Ghost shouted at them. Then, while poised to leap down to the floor below, Ghost glanced back over her shoulder towards the flames. Blackened scraps of parchment were swirling around in the air, but so too—strangely—was a large, undamaged, white feather. Discretion gave way to curiosity and, cursing herself for being a fool, Ghost turned back into the heat, shielding her face with an upraised arm. Again she exerted her powers to the full, creating an eddy that brought the feather close enough that she could snatch it. Only when it was secure in her grasp did Ghost drop to the floor below, the cooler air there washing over her like a wave.

  The others were back across the drawbridge and running for the edge of the forest, between them Cindella and Anonemuss were assisting Gunnar. Remounting her airboard, Ghost quickly caught up with the humans and helped them to the line of trees. There, everyone fell to the ground with relief, before turning back to look at the blaze engulfing the tower. For a while no one spoke. They watched the violent flashes of orange, red, and yellow and listened to a roaring cry that was getting louder and louder.

  “It’s a shame,” observed Anonemuss.

  “What is? You mean, B.E. dying?” asked Ghost for them all.

  “Well, that too. But I was thinking that there must have been some powerful magic items in there, among all the gear from the people who had gotten trapped by her.”

  “Yeah, well, she nearly got my collection.” Cindella was rummaging in her Bag of Dimensions. She had just passed out potions of healing to Anonemuss and Gunnar, who looked considerably less damaged as a result. At least Gunnar’s limbs were properly attached to his body again.

  “I got this. The flames didn’t seem to harm it at all, so I thought it worth taking. I can sense something powerful about it, an energy.” Ghost showed the white feather to Anonemuss who examined it closely.

  “Well done. This has to be magic of some sort. Any idea Erik?”

  “Not really. It could summon a giant bird perhaps? If a command word is spoken? Or maybe the bearer can use it to fly. Or given the nature of the magic of that monster, it could be a quill of some sort.” Cindella shrugged.

  Athena sat up and seemed more interested in the tower than the feather, shielding her eyes against the flames to look out at the inferno. “So what exactly happened in there?”

  While the humans explained about the demonic creature and the power of her pictures, Ghost lay back and let herself relax. It was impossible to sustain such an intense level of control over the environment without bringing on a major headache and a feeling of deep exhaustion.

  “We were lucky. If Ghost hadn’t come in so fast and figured out what to do, we’d all be finished. High-tech weapons and my entire collection of magic items were of no use at all,” Erik said vehemently.

  The others echoed this appreciation of her efforts and Ghost smiled before she closed her eyes and let her tiredness sweep her away to sleep.

  Chapter 12

  AT SWIM, A SWAN

  When Ghost woke up, Milan was squatted down on his haunches beside her. “Hi, Ghost, welcome back. I don’t suppose you’ve got anything to eat that isn’t a nutribar?”

  “What time is it? How long have I been asleep?”

  “It’s dinnertime; about two hours since you rescued the humans.”

  “Milan, did I hear you say you wanted something tasty to eat?” Cindella was standing nearby.

  “Anything you’ve got has to be better than these nutribars. It’s like eating putty.”

  Cindella went to sit beside Milan and began searching through her Bag of Dimensions. After a few mutters of frustration, she produced a golden plate and a silver goblet.

  “There they are! I don’t know for certain if the food and drink from these is consumable by you, but you just have to say a rhyme and they will supply you with whatever you want. Each item works only once a day.”

  “A rhyme?” Milan looked puzzled.

  “Well, what do you fancy eating?” asked Erik.

  “A big burger and a plate of fries.”

  “Right.” Cindella picked the plate up with both hands. “Hear me, plate, for I tell no lies. Give me a burger and a plate of fries.”

  A moment later, a mouthwatering fragrance of cooked food surrounded them, and even Ghost, who could theoretically gain all the sustenance she needed from altering the environment, couldn’t help but lean over and help herself to some of the hot food now heaped up high on the platter.

  “Awesome, unbelievably awesome,” cried Milan between mouthfuls. “This whole adventure just got a whole lot better.”

  “Does the rhyme have to scan?” asked Athena.

  “I don’t think so, but I never really used it that much.”

  “And what about the cup thing?”

  “Same again. What do you want?”

  “You mean it could do anything? Beer?” Milan asked.

  Both Ghost and Athena opened their mouths to say no, but Milan quickly held up his hand. “I know, I know. Actually, I’d just like some water. But I was only asking.”

  “Water. Right.” Again Cindella held the goblet in both hands. “Silver goblet, I’m no one’s daughter. Please provide me with clean water.”

  “I see it doesn’t have to make much sense then,” muttered Athena, and Ghost had to smile when Cindella managed to look slightly aggrieved at this. Erik’s avatar had a phenomenal range of expressions, and as a result seemed much more like a real being than the other avatars. It would be easy to forget that, a vast distance away, Erik was lying or sitting, clipped up to headsets and handsets in order to direct her.

  “Delicious.” Milan offered the goblet to Ghost. The water was cool and refreshing. She passed it on to Athena, still half full.

  “These are fantastic. Can we hang on to them then?” asked Milan eagerly.

  “Of course.”

  “Hooray, no more nutribars!”

  For some people, happiness rose or fell in direct proportion to the availability of good food. Right now, despite the dangers of their expedition and the fact that they had no means of returning to Saga, Milan was back to his most cheerful. The humans must have been surprised to see him so jovial.

  After they’d eaten and the humans had taken short breaks in turns, the group resumed their journey in pursuit of the enemy scout. It was enjoyably different to walk through forest instead of city, but even so, Ghost was relieved when, not long after they’d left camp, the landscape began to change. There was, after all, a certain urgency about their mission. It seemed only too likely that an attack was being planned on Saga, and the sooner they discovered who built the portal and commanded the soldiers around it, the better.

  The first indication that they were reaching the edge of the forest was the increasing frequency with which they could glimpse the sun and patches of blue through what had previously been a solid canopy of green. The undergrowth was slightly different too: more bushes than bracken. Then there came more and more spacious glades, through which ran the stream that they had been walking beside for most of the day. An unusual, almost salty scent was detectable in the breeze. By sunset the trees around them were so dispersed that they could at last see the horizon ahead. The view gave Ghost a shock.

  “Is that what I think it is?” She was walking next to Athena, who peered through her glasses and frowned.

  “I don’t know. What is it?”

  “The sea?”

  “But it glitters.”

  There were satellite maps that marked regions of sea in the world of Saga, but the water was hundreds of miles from the city in which they all lived. Neither Ghost nor Athena had visited the sea, and she was pretty sure
that Milan hadn’t, either. After all, in Saga there would be no point. The water would just be an oily black swell, lapping against some dock or accepting the foamy output of factory pipes. Here, though, the closer the view, the more delightful it was to look at the sea, which was a deep blue color permeated with sparkling flecks of white and silver.

  The party cleared the last of the trees and crossed a grassy area where patches of sand appeared beneath breaks in the turf. Then they were gathered on the last rise before the beach proper, looking at the waves rolling up to the shore and listening to the sigh, repeated over and over, that the water made as it splayed upon the beach. Each wave coated the sand with a shining layer of moisture before withdrawing. The scene was hypnotic.

  “That’s beautiful,” Ghost sighed.

  “Yeah, but now what?” Anonemuss put down his bag and shaded his eyes to better see the horizon. “Is our spy across the water somewhere?”

  Having checked the tracking device, Athena gave a nod and despite the problem the sea posed for them, flashed Ghost a look to say that her heart, too, was soaring at the pleasure of being able to look out at an unobstructed view as far as the eye could see.

  “Hey, Milan, what do you think of the sea then?” Ghost caught up with her friend who had gone on ahead, striding over the sand behind Gunnar, his heavy boots leaving deep imprints that totally eradicated those of the more slender avatar.

  “It makes me homesick.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He hesitated. “I’m glad to be seeing some of what’s out beyond Saga, but I miss parties and music and hanging out with the gang. This isn’t my scene.”

  “It might be mine.”

  “Really?” He was surprised.

  “No, I guess not really. But I love the fact that we can see forever here; it’s like standing on top of the tallest building in the city, but so much more tranquil—so blue. I could lie here for days, just relaxing to the movement of the sea and listening to those waves. You know? A peace that we could never have in Saga.”

  Milan slapped her on the back. “You’d get bored after an hour, Ghost.” And Ghost found it impossible not to share his laugh.

  The whole group gathered on the wet sand, waves surging up the beach to flow around their feet. The pungent scent that Ghost had first detected back in the forest was strong now, either coming from the clumps of dark green weed nearby or the sea itself.

  “Are we stuck?” Gunnar’s handsome figure stood facing the sea and it was impossible to tell if he was pleased or dismayed at the prospect of going no farther.

  “Got anything useful in your kit Erik? What about that Deck of Curiosities?” asked Anonemuss.

  “We could try playing the ‘Journey’ card, but from what I was told you have to envisage where you want to go and I don’t have much of an idea. I’ll use it if you like, but I wonder if Ghost’s feather might help us fly over the sea?”

  Everyone turned to Ghost, who drew the feather from her headband. It was large, as wide as her hand, with brilliant white vanes.

  “What should I do?” Ghost asked Cindella.

  “Try throwing it into the air? Command it to fly.”

  Feeling a little foolish, Ghost threw the feather upward with both hands.

  “Fly!” she cried, and for a second it looked as though magic were at play, as the feather was swept higher by the light breeze. But almost at once it began to descend.

  “Oh well,” said Gunnar as the feather landed in the water. “a valiant effort.”

  Certain that there was still something extraordinary about the feather, Ghost stepped forward to retrieve it. And halted. The feather had begun to spin as it was pulled away from the shore by the ebb of a wave and as it spun, the feather grew rapidly, both in size and complexity.

  “Whoa!” shouted Milan and everyone shuffled back as a huge white swan unfolded before them. But it was not a bird; it was a ship, whose prow was the long neck and whose stern was the tail. Between slightly raised wings was the white deck of the ship, with feathered seats for twenty people.

  Anonemuss was the first to move toward the craft. “Now that’s awesome. How does it work?”

  Waves were causing the ship to bob against the shore. Elated, Ghost grabbed a wing and vaulted aboard. “Come on, let’s find out.” She pointed out to sea and the bird turned accordingly. “Aha! Get in, everyone.”

  As they took their seats, Milan lingered on the beach, looking anxiously at Ghost. “There’s something you should know.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t swim.”

  “Oh.” Ghost was no great swimmer. But if necessary, she could make the air solid enough so that she could walk above the sea or even alter the water around her to make it breathable. The appearance of the swan boat was a thrill for her, but for Milan it was a risk to his life.

  Cindella delved into her magic bag. “Here Milan, hopefully you won’t need it, but I have a potion for water breathing. It lasts about an hour.”

  “Class! Thanks!” Milan put the small crystal vial into one of his top pockets and carefully buttoned it. “Now I might actually enjoy the ride.” He beamed at everyone, once more his usual cheerful self, as he vaulted aboard.

  Cindella looked across at Ghost and Athena. “Either of you need one?”

  “Actually, if you’ve a spare, I’ll take one.” Athena sounded slightly apologetic. “It’s been a while since I went to a pool.”

  “I’m fine,” answered Ghost.

  Soon they were all sitting on white-feathered chairs, looking out over the waves past the slender neck of the prow. The ship’s wings were raised on both sides, obstructing the view but creating a reassuring sense of shelter. Gunnar and Cindella were at the front; Ghost, Milan, and Athena occupied the generous space in the center of the ship; and Anonemuss was lounging at the back.

  “Forward, please.” Cindella pointed out to sea and the ship began to move ahead. A grin appeared on Milan’s face and Ghost knew exactly what he was thinking: he was amused by the fact that some of the humans—especially Erik—were always so polite, even when giving instructions to an inanimate magical ship.

  As they glided over the sea, the swan boat was rocking in the waves and pitching down the troughs a little, but the motion was not unpleasant.

  “Speed up!” shouted Ghost.

  With no discernible sound, the swan leaped forward in a massive burst of acceleration, causing everyone to be pressed back against their chairs. Behind Ghost, Anonemuss swore and held tight to the tops of the nearest chairs. He saw her inquiring glance.

  “I nearly went over the stern!”

  Already the shore was receding fast and the ship had a vast wake curling away from them across the sea.

  “This is ferocious! I wish my mates back in Saga could feel this,” cried Milan, wiping spray from his face and getting unsteadily to his feet so he could see further ahead. The swan was nearly airborne between the peaks of the waves; each plunge of the ship was more violent now as it crashed from one ridge of water to the next.

  “It is rather exhilarating,” acknowledged Gunnar with a glance back.

  “Are we on course?” Erik shouted at Athena.

  “Not quite.” She got up carefully and walked forward, using the backs of the chairs to keep her steady, so that she could show the tracking device to Cindella.

  Pointing slightly south of their present direction, Erik gave the order, “That way, please,” and instantly they were heading at great speed toward their target.

  “This is much better than slogging through those bushes and trees on foot, isn’t it?” The breeze created by their speed was strong enough to toy with Milan’s hair, and he rolled his head on his neck to let it blow the peroxide-tipped strands from side to side. Their breathtaking speed certainly was encouraging, and lifted by Milan’s good humor, Ghost, too, felt a sense of happiness and delight as the team flew over the waves.

  For nearly an hour they raced across the sea in this way, passengers
in a magical swan ship, the fading sun coloring the sea a glittering bronze all the way to the horizon. Behind them, the coast had receded from sight and they could see nothing but the wide expanse of sea and sky. Then Athena gave a shout.

  “It’s getting a lot closer!” Her attention was on the tracking device, which she waved at Ghost.

  This brought Anonemuss up from the back and he stared across the sea in the direction they were heading. “I think there is something over there. But we’re too unsteady to see for sure.”

  A few minutes later, though, and it was evident that there was a dark smudge on the horizon before them. Even at the racing speed with which the swan cleared the waves, it took a while for the feature to become any clearer. But as they crested a wave and the spray blew over them, their goal suddenly became obvious; it was a volcano, with an outline formed by two beautiful curves that rose from the sea to meet at a flat plateau.

  The nearer the swan ship came the mountain, the more the color of the water around them changed, becoming turquoise rather than copper.

  “Slow down,” commanded Ghost.

  The ship had barely begun to respond to the new instruction when the water all around them began to surge up, shaking the swan from side to side. An enormous wave gathered ahead and seemed certain to come crashing down upon them. Except that it didn’t. Instead a voice came from the glistening water, a voice that boomed like the crash of the sea against the hollows of a cliff and that hissed like shingle driven along the shore.

  “My master compliments you on your mode of transport and invites you to state your business here.”

  In comparison to the voice echoing all around from the wall of water swaying high above them, Erik sounded shrill and faint. “Thank your master. We seek information. We are peaceful and would welcome a chance to converse with your master.”

  It seemed to take a moment for the enormous wave to absorb this; then all at once it dissolved back into the sea, leaving the ship rocking violently. The swan was still attempting to move slowly forward, until Ghost gave the order to stop.