Rainbow's End - Wizard (13 page)

‘
What kind of things?’ from Thomas - now
really
puzzled.

‘Things, Thomas. Anything
: cars, rocks, trees,’ and softer, ‘a knife, a spear…anything.’ Ariana took another deep breath. ‘More importantly: they can “Push” minds - control minds... They can make people do things. Manipulate them, control them.’

‘I can’t do that!’ Thomas was horrified.

‘Yes, you can,’ Ariana said. ‘You just don’t know how, yet. You are a complete novice still, and need opening first. Your mind needs to be opened, and only another Traveller can do that. An adept. Someone like Izzy, or Orson.’

Thomas started saying something and Ariana held up her hand
, said ‘later,’ and looked to the stars again.

‘It is the Traveller who fetches the children. I receive…sense… I pick up a signal - something like a distress call, an S.O.S. The Traveller responds to it. He…I guess you could say he beams in on the original signal and lands as close to it as possible. It depends on the sun. From there he follows his own senses, his intuition I suppose you can call it. Remember,’ Ariana looked at the open-mouthed Thomas, ‘they are much more acute than a normal person’s. He follows his senses until he makes contact. The children are sometimes very scared - petrified in some cases, and it is necessary to “Push” them… And sometimes Kraylle’s “Night-Walkers” are there as well. Like in your case.

‘Sometimes -
again as it almost happened in your case - it is necessary to fight them, “Push” them. A few hundred years ago, Raoul - the then Traveller, was almost killed by a particularly vicious mob of them, and had to kill two. They were just boys and he never got over it… He still hasn’t.’ She saw Thomas frown and open his mouth and Ariana held up her hand again. She said, ‘Orson has been in several altercations with the “walkers” - we call them “walkers” - and he has hurt some of them badly.’ She smiled wryly, ‘He has a terrible temper for such a little man.’

Then she looked at Thomas again, and like earlier, said simply, ‘Ask.’

The boy was caught off guard for a second, and then blurted - ‘what do you mean by my mind has to be opened?’

Ariana laughed. ‘Not opened in the literal sense Thomas. There would be no Travellers then. It simply means that you have to be shown your own powers. Your own capabilities. And taught how to use them
. By someone already able to use his own. 
I
cannot show you what you are capable of - simply because I do not
know
what you are capable of. Also, you do not just need to be shown how to
use
this power of yours; you need to be shown how to
control
it as well. That is perhaps just as - if not more - important. Look at the mess some of your world-leaders have made of things, once given power. Simply because they didn’t know
when
to stop: or did not
want
to.’ Ariana was quiet once more and Thomas said, ‘You said Raoul…?’ Ariana nodded and the boy carried on, ‘you said that Raoul killed two boys hundreds of years ago and still hasn’t got over it …?’

‘Raoul is
now one of the dwarfs, Thomas. He has moved on.’ Ariana saw the confusion on the boy’s face and said, her voice gentle, ‘Thomas, there are many, many things about Rainbow’s End that you do not know - that I have not told you yet. To do so would take days… many days.’ She paused, looking for the right words.

‘
In the next weeks, the next
months
, you will learn and understand much more of where you are and what Rainbow’s End is about. Much, much more than I can tell you in a few hours. And in anyway - our time is almost up. Big John is already on his way.

‘
Before he gets here, there are two more things,’ Ariana said. ‘I would like to see you again in three night’s time. Is that all right?’ Thomas nodded and when Ariana next spoke, her voice had turned puzzled and very serious; he saw her frown.

‘
Thomas, do you have any idea… do you remember me telling you about receiving distress-signals?’ Thomas nodded again and Ariana continued. ‘In your case, someone…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Someone sent me a signal that was so strong, so vital, so
different
… It was as if whoever sent it was calling out to me
personally
. Talking to me - almost pleading with me… The signal was strong enough for Kraylle to pick up on, and even he felt the difference. He sent all of his boys to fetch you - or kill you.’ Ariana looked at Thomas questioningly, ‘Do you know who sent that signal, Thomas? That message?’

Thomas shook his head slowly
and silently, just as puzzled as Ariana, and more confused than ever. And more than ready to call it a day - or night. But first, he had a question of his own.

He looked at Ariana.
‘Can I ask a last question?’

She
was lost in her own thoughts and looked at him in surprise.  ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Ask.’

‘What am I doing here?
In Rainbow’s End?’

The young woman
was silent for a full minute and then she stood up. Thomas followed and when she turned to him, he again saw how very beautiful she was.

She asked, ‘You’ve been to see Orson yesterday?’ Thomas nodded and she said, ‘He’s old Thomas. Orson has been
Rainbow’s End’s Traveller for more than a hundred years: Earth years. Longer - much longer, than any of his predecessors. He’s tired and he’s old and he wants to go over…’

‘
And I’m to take his place then - to be a Traveller?’ Thomas deduced, frowning.

Ariana laid a soft hand against his cheek and her skin was as warm as his own.
She said, ‘I cannot answer that, Thomas. I simply do not know.’ She paused. ‘Only one person does.’

‘Who?’
he asked, baffled.

‘You
.’ the goddess said, before turning to the water. She stepped forward and was gone; leaving just ripples where she’d been.

Thomas stood staring at the
star-sprinkled pool for a long time. The frogs and crickets had gone quiet; the only sound a rustling in the branches of the nearby willow tree. A very light breeze started up, wafting soft jasmine, and then Big John was there, laying a huge hand on his shoulder.

‘Come Thomas
,’ he said, softly. ‘It’s time to go back.’

The boy
took a long last look at the silver pool; at the moon and stars floating in it. It seemed very cold of a sudden, and very, very lonely. He shivered and turned from it; an owl said goodnight from the willow as they walked away.

*****

‘She’s so very beautiful, Annie.’

Maggie
had fallen asleep in the chair (which Annie had thought smaller), and was leaning forward on the occasional table in front of her; her head close to, and her auburn hair touching the pool of ice cream which lay melting next to the half-empty plate. Her long eyelashes lay on cheeks that wore red spots and highlighted the freckles of her face, and her cupid-mouth - sticky and smeared with ice cream, made little burbling sounds when she breathed.

They were in Annie’s room and
the two women were sitting in their easy-chairs, watching the little girl sleep. It had been Maggie’s first full day at Rainbow’s End and they had kept her busy through all of it. Too busy to ask questions, and too busy for tears.

Annie stood up and
went into the bathroom, returning with a damp facecloth which she used to wipe Maggie’s face (without waking her); and her sticky little fingers as well, after removing the spoon still clutched in them. She leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the little girl’s forehead, then said to the other woman, ‘Take her to bed, Frieda. And try to get some sleep yourself. Don’t stay up all night staring at her.’

They both laughed softly
; and when Frieda lifted Maggie’s tiny frame out of the chair, it resumed its normal size.

The little girl’s pink night dress was stained with
damp splotches of green and brown and blue, but Frieda ignored them and held her carefully but tight. Annie held open the door, and with a soft goodnight and a last smile, the younger woman left - clutching her little bundle as if it were the most precious thing on Earth
and
Rainbow’s End.

10

FIRHAM GAZETTE; Monday, 20
th
January

It was very early
still. The sun had only been up for an hour, and when Thomas opened his bedroom door, a little man or woman - he was not sure which - scrambled away faster than he had thought possible on two such short legs. He or she was carrying a small tin, and left a chair upended on the floor. Thomas set it upright, and when he turned around to close his door, saw some haphazardly painted lettering on it. It said
“
THOMA
S
” - in glitter-blue-green.

He walked to the back of the cave and was greeted by Arnold
, a jolly fat man with a pointy black moustache, when he entered the dining room. Arnold came from a large family of eight boys and five girls, and had learned to cook in a succession of prisons, starting at the age of eighteen and ending at thirty-eight: when he tried to hijack a brand new, heavily laden lorry, with a skinny old man listening to classical music and swinging a crystal behind its steering wheel.

Apart from the moustache, he also affected a French accent
, albeit with a touch of London’s south end. He beamed at the boy and the spiky tips of the moustache jumped; said ‘Allo, Thomas,’ and pushed him into a chair, and without waiting for a reply, turned and waddled through the swinging door and into his kitchen.

Four minutes later, he was back - carrying a tray laden with a large plate, which overflow
ed with an even larger omelette: fluffy and golden-yellow and almost an inch thick, strewn with slices of fresh banana and grated cheese and steaming hot. There was a side plate heaped with buttered toast and a huge glass of orange juice as well, and Arnold plonked the whole of it down in front of a gaping Thomas, before sitting down opposite him and resting his three chins in his cupped hands. He loved watching children enjoy his food.

*

The long grass was wet from the early morning’s rain; it ran in little rivers down Thomas’ bare feet and lower legs by the time he got to Big John’s Pool. He needed time to think and this seemed like the best place in which to do it. The other children hadn’t come out yet, the only sounds were from the several yellow and red finches - which had nests in the willow trees - making noisy early morning conversation.

The single bench was already occupied, but before a disappointed Thomas could turn back, a bedraggled
Izzadore Greenbaum spotted him and motioned him closer, patting the empty space beside him. He hadn’t shaved or combed his hair, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked several years older than when they had met the day before. He greeted Thomas with a grunt and when the boy enquired about his health, groaned and sat in silence again.