Doubleborn (26 page)

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Authors: Toby Forward

BOOK: Doubleborn
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“And I can. And I shall,” said Smedge.

“They weren’t real, the beetles,” said Tamrin. “You’re nothing. You’re all tricks and pretend.”

Shoddle, who had sunk to the floor and was leaning against the wall, raised his hand to his ruined head and cupped his ear. A horrid clacking of sharp legs on the cobbles outside. and thick voices.

“Here.”

“Kill.”

“Here.”

“In.”

“Kill.”

“Up.”

“Up.”

“Up.”

“Listen,” he said. And he laughed. “They’ve arrived. Now we’ll see some fun.”

The front door slammed and the skittering legs mounted the stairs.

Sam put his hand to his head. Not them. Not now.

The kravvins surged through the door.

“Yes,” cried Shoddle. “Come in.”

Flaxfold grabbed Solder’s hand and he hopped from his barrel.

“Get fire,” she said. “Quickly.”

Solder flipped the top from his barrel, plunged in and drew out a tinderbox. He struck it. The tinder flared. Flaxfold dragged off her scarf, held it over the flame and let it catch. She pulled Solder, Tamrin and Sam to the mirror and drew a line of fire on the floor in front of them, painting them into a corner. It was all done in an instant.

A kravvin stepped into the line of flame and exploded with a scream.

The room was alive with kravvins. Last of all, Bakkmann pushed through the doorway and surveyed the scene.

Sam saw that Bakkmann and Smedge knew each other.

Tamrin saw that Bakkmann and Smedge hated each other.

Another kravvin attempted the line and died with a sizzle of hot pus.

Bakkmann clattered a loud order to hold back. Their blank faces turned to her and Sam thought they would attack her. A part of his mind wanted to see them do it, wanted to see them destroy at least one of his enemies.

Beyond Sam’s control, magic slipped from him. His thought took shape and slid down to the floor, where it crouched, lizard-like. It curled into a ball and rolled over the flames to the kravvins’ side of the room. It scurried to Bakkmann and crawled up her boot. Bakkmann shook her foot and it fell off, landing on Shoddle. The tailor screamed. His head dropped to one side. The creature leaped to Shoddle’s face and clawed at him. Shoddle shrieked and a kravvin turned its blank face to see what was happening.

“Get rid of it,” shouted Shoddle.

The kravvin stepped forward, grabbed the lizard and squeezed it, killing it instantly, then took Shoddle by the neck, snapped what was left of it, cuffed his head aside. The head rolled to the wall beneath the window.

“Kill.”

“Head.”

“Kill.”

They fell on Shoddle, tossed his body up and it smacked against the ceiling. Blood spurted from his neck. As the droplets fell they hardened into beetles the size of your thumb and when they hit the floor they ran in all directions.

Shoddle’s dead face leered up at them. They covered it, a blood-red mask of legs and shells, and burrowed in, eating it clean in no time till all that was left was the white skull.

The kravvins didn’t even leave the bones of his body. They crunched through everything.

The beetles, searching for more food, more fight, ran over and into the line of flame. They popped and sizzled, screamed and died, but they were winning. Their wet corpses began to smother the fire. The line was being destroyed.

Sam gripped his staff in both hands.

“No more magic,” Flaxfold warned him. “You saw what happened last time. Magic will feed them.”

“What can we do, then?” asked Sam.

He thrust the end of his staff into the chest of a kravvin that was trying to cross the line, through a small gap made by the beetles. The kravvin fell back but was not killed. It rushed at him again, and again he repelled it.

Flaxfold sighed.

“I don’t think there’s anything. Just get ready to fight as long as you can.”

Tim turned his head over his shoulder and yelped to the others to catch him up. They were out of sight. He skidded round the corner into the narrow street and ran through the front door into the tailor’s shop. Tamrin’s scent was so strong here. He bounded up the stairs and crashed into the room.

The kravvins turned their faces to him as one and sniffed.

“Dog.”

“Kill.”

“Eat.”

“Kill.”

He planted his paws on the floor, slid to a halt and tried to run back.

A hand grabbed his neck. A kravvin. It hauled him off his feet, into the air, and was about to throw him up and dash him against the ceiling, killing him.

“No.”

Smedge grabbed the kravvin’s arm and dragged it down.

“Drop him.”

The kravvin pushed its smooth face into Smedge’s.

“Do it. Or Ash will be very angry.”

The kravvin opened its hand and Tim fell to the floor. He slunk into the corner, his tail between his legs. He kept his head down, ready for a blow from Smedge.

Smedge put his hand to Tim.

Tim cowered.

Smedge stroked him.

“No. I won’t hit you,” he said. “Not just yet.”

He looked across at the group in the opposite corner. Flaxfold had torn her sleeve off and lit it from the flames. She was rebuilding the barrier.

“Oh, that won’t help you,” he said. “It keeps your enemies out. It works against anything made by the wild magic. It kills kravvins and beetles and poor old Bakkmann, and even me. We’re all from the wild magic.”

Sam and Tamrin stood side by side. They searched each other’s minds, like putting a foot into water to decide whether or not to plunge in. So far they had paddled in the shallows. Neither of them had been able either to open completely to the other or to allow the other in.

When Sam became Starback he gave himself completely to the experience of being dragon. He had not gone this far with Tamrin. Something held him back. Now he had a sense that they would be stronger together against Smedge than separately.

And he still could not give himself to it.

“But how about an old friend?” asked Smedge. He patted Tim. “An old friend could come to you there, I think.”

He smacked Tim’s head. The dog face disappeared and Tim looked out at them.

“No,” said Tamrin.

“He’s my dog,” said Smedge. “My pet.”

He slapped Tim’s face and he became all dog again.

“Everyone hates you,” he whispered to Tamrin. “Everyone. And do you know why? Because your friend Tim told them you were a bully. He did. He said you hurt people. Didn’t you, Tim?”

The dog wagged a slow tail. He looked away.

“And now,” said Smedge, “he’s coming in there to get you. He’ll bring you out. And some of you will be fed to the kravvins and some of you will be coming back to Boolat with me. I wonder which is which?”

He put his finger to his face in mock puzzlement.

“We’ll feed the kravvins first,” he said. “That will stop them from falling on the rest of you for food.”

He ruffled Tim’s neck.

“Get the roffle,” he said.

Tim leaped up, through the flames, and seized Solder’s leg in his mouth. He dragged him towards the centre of the room.

Solder yelled and struggled. Flaxfold grabbed Tim by the scruff of his neck. Tamrin smacked him. Sam flung his cloak over his shoulder, ready to attack.

“No magic!” shouted Flaxfold. “No magic. It will come back to kill us all.”

They held on to Solder and pulled against Tim. Tim snarled and clamped his teeth into Solder’s leg.

“Let go,” screamed Tamrin.

She raised her hand to hurt Tim and found that she couldn’t. She couldn’t damage the boy who had been her friend.

“I’ll turn him back,” she said. “Back to Tim.”

Flaxfold took hold of her shoulders.

“No magic. No. It will kill us all.”

Smedge laughed.

Tim dragged Solder further from the safety of the barrier of roffle fire.

“Let me go,” Solder shouted.

“We’ve got you,” Sam said. “We’ve got you.”

“No.” Solder beat his fists against Sam’s face. “You let me go. You’re killing me.”

He was being pulled apart. Tim had magic enough to beat any ordinary strength Sam might have to save the roffle.

Solder slipped from Sam’s grasp and slid through the fire, towards the hungry kravvins. They knew he was theirs. They clacked their legs with pleasure.

Until Smith came through the door, swung his hammer and took the head off the nearest kravvin.

Winny grasped the whole situation in a second. She crossed the room, slipped the chain round Tim’s neck and dragged him clear. Solder slipped from his jaws and backed off, rubbing his leg.

“You can’t hold him with a chain,” Smedge sneered. “Come here, Tim.”

He flicked his fingers.

Winny stared into his eyes.

“A chain made at Smith’s forge from roffle fire,” she said. “That will hold him.”

Tim pressed himself against her legs and kept away from Smedge.

Winny scooped up the burning material in her hands and swung it round, lashing the kravvins that Smith hadn’t already smashed with his hammer.

As soon as it hit them the burning scarf and sleeve sliced through them and they burst like poppy heads in the sun. Bakkmann tried to attack Smith from behind. Tim darted at her and she lost her balance. Smith swung round, scythed his hammer and took Bakkmann’s legs away from her, snapping them. She fell on to her back and couldn’t right herself, the stumps waving in the air.

The last kravvin burst under Winny’s attack with the flames. The floor was a shambles of shell fragments, legs and the soft grey insides of the dead creatures. Only Smedge and Bakkmann remained to do them harm. Bakkmann was out of the fight and had no magic anyway. But they moved carefully from their safe corner back into the room, keeping her under close watch.

Shoddle’s skull grinned at them from the floor.

“Hello, Dorwin,” said Flaxfold. “And Smith. You were just in time.”

“Flaxfold,” said Smith. “Good to see you.”

Winny hugged Flaxfold.

“Dorwin?” said Tamrin.

“Dorwin. Winny. Tamrin. Tam. What does a name matter?” she said.

“Names are important,” Sam told her.

“She knows that, boy,” said Smith. “As well as anyone.”

Tamrin confronted Smedge. “Bring Tim back,” she said.

“Do you think so?” he asked. “It will need magic. What will the mirror do then?”

“I want to see Tim.”

Winny slipped the chain from him. Tim’s face emerged from the fur. His legs straightened. His tail disappeared. He crouched, stretched, stood. He hung his head and refused to look at anyone.

“Are you all right?” asked Sam.

Tim smiled at him.

“You’ve grown,” he said. “Since last year, at the college.”

“You were my first friend,” said Sam. “The first I ever had.”

Tim shrugged. He moved to stand next to Smedge.

“Not any more,” he said.

“You can go now,” said Smedge. “All of you. Go on.”

Tamrin lunged at him. She knocked him to one side and seized Tim’s arm.

“You’re not going with him?”

“Yes. I am. It’s what’s left.”

“You can’t. You’re not like him.”

Tamrin felt tears coming. She pushed her hand against her face, hurting herself in her determination not to cry.

“How do you know what anyone’s like?” asked Tim.

“But you hate him. You’re my friend. You said you’d help me.”

Tim looked her in the eyes.

“Things change,” he said.

Smedge patted him on the head.

“Good boy.”

Tim started to snarl at Smedge but it changed to a whimper and he nuzzled his head against him.

“Get out,” said Smedge.

“We’re keeping the mirror,” Sam told him. “Go back to Boolat. Tell your Ash that she’ll never find it. Tell her to stay where she is or she’ll regret it.”

Smedge put his hands to his head to shape it nearer to the real thing.

“You had better go,” said Flaxfold. “There are more of us. You can’t have the mirror.”

She spoke with her usual quiet authority, and Sam gasped when Smedge argued with her. No one did that.

“Get out, old woman,” he said. “I remember you. I remember how scared you were of the wild magic. I’m not scared of any magic. The wild magic made me. Let’s see what it makes of you.”

He grabbed the cloth covering the mirror and flicked it away. Flaxfold saw his plan and swung the mirror so that it was turned away from all of them.

Smedge laughed. He put himself in front of it and paraded before its surface. No reflection answered him.

“He’s not there,” said Tamrin.

“There, and not there,” whispered Flaxfold, “as you two are two and one.”

Smedge leaned down and grabbed a stump of Bakkmann’s leg. He dragged the clattering creature to the mirror.

“No,” she clattered. “No. No.”

“Shut up. You’re real enough. The wild magic changed you. It didn’t make you. Let’s see.”

Smedge moved the mirror again. Bakkmann saw herself reflected back, not as a monstrous shape, half-beetle, half-human, but as the woman she had been before the wild magic had struck. She reached out her finger to touch the surface.

“All these years,” she said. “All this time.” She was crying. “I stood next to Slowin. Side by side when the magic struck.”

Her fingers touched the bright metal.

And she exploded in a flower of flame.

She burned like a rush torch in tallow, with a steady, greasy light.

Solder moved his barrel as far as he could from the light and sat on it cross-legged.

As the flame flickered and died the central pillar of fire gathered into a clear shape. The last light faded.

“Side by side,” said Ash. “We did. We stood side by side.”

Where Bakkmann had died Ash stood looking at them. She looked at her reflection in the mirror.

“Come here, Smedge,” she said. She took his hand. “You’ve done well. Very well. You brought me here at last.”

She raised her arms above her head, breathed deeply and smiled.

“At last.”

She surveyed the scene of death all around her.

“And you made everything so nice for me to come to,” she said.

“What do you want, Slowin?” asked Flaxfold.

Ash whipped her head round and glared at her.

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