Rainbow's End - Wizard (44 page)

As if on cue, Thomas’ bedroom door opened
, and backlit by the weak light from the sleeping mother-cave, Ariana, followed by Orson, entered.

*

‘Can you remember what happened, Thomas?’ Ariana’s voice was soft. She was sitting next to him on the bed, and wore her usual white dress, her usually bare feet in sandals. A gold chain hung around her waist, and her hair, which fell in a thick black mass, almost touched its links in the back.

‘He does now,’
Joshi interjected. ‘We went back.’

‘Thank you, Joshi.’
Ariana smiled at him, and received a solemn nod in return. ‘You are welcome, my queen.’

She
turned back to Thomas. ‘It was the Night-Walkers, wasn’t it?’

‘Little bastards
.’ A muted croak from Orson, who received an admonishing look from the goddess. He dropped his eyes and coughed into his hand, mumbled, ‘Sorry.’

Thomas looked at him. The Traveller was sitting in the desk-chair, and the study-lamp made shadows of his smooth-shaved face. His bushy hair had been combed, and he was dressed in neatly pressed denim jeans and a blue and black checked shirt. His lizard-skin boots gleamed.

‘It was them, yes,’ Thomas nodded.

‘
Rudi?’ From Orson.

‘No sir, not Rudi.’ Thomas shook his head and Ariana interrupted
.

‘Kraylle has a new number one boy, Orson.
Our thoughts crossed a few days ago, and I saw them playing chess. He has very pale blue eyes and red hair?’ Her question was directed at Thomas, and he nodded. ‘That’s him, yes,’ he said. ‘That’s the boy I saw. He’s a year or two older than I am, and two or three younger than Rudi.’

Another “little bastard” from Orson, and this time Ariana said nothing.

She took his hand then, and Thomas felt himself tense at first; but then, as incredible surges of pure power began flowing from her and into him, relaxed and felt himself drifting… Drifting as if on air; immensely powerful physically and mentally; invincible, god-like…

As if from very far away, he heard his own voice. ‘There
was a boy in the alley with me - a small boy. Just six. His name was Eamon, and I was going to bring him back here. They took him…’ His voice trailed off, but not before the others in the room heard the despair in it.

Orson’s voice also
, seemed far away. ‘You were bringing him back here?’ he asked. ‘You were coming back? By yourself?’ His tone was anxiously hoping, and Thomas opened his eyes.

‘Yes, I was coming back,’ he said, ‘myself
and Eamon.’ He saw Orson give Ariana a happy smile; an everything-is-going-to-be-alright-now smile, and the secret wink she gave Thomas, had him feel good all over. He closed his eyes once more, and floated away, getting stronger…

Ages later, Orson’s voice again: ‘He sure looks happy.’ He cackled and Ariana shushed him.

‘Shhh, Orson, he’s sleeping.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Thomas mumble
d in a sleepy voice, and Orson - for no special reason except being happy, cackled again.

And then they were leaving: Joshi dropped over the windowsill and slipped into the night; and Orson and Ariana through the door. They were stopped by Thomas.

‘Ariana
? Orson?’

Looking back,
Ariana asked softly, ‘Yes, Thomas?’

‘Thank you,’ he said.

Orson stood beaming as any proud grandfather would, and the demi-goddess looked at her young Traveller for a silent minute. Then, she too smiled, and said - in a voice that really meant it - ‘Welcome home, Thomas.’ They left.

*

The light went out when he wanted it to, and Thomas pulled the sheet up to his chin once more. The night air was mellowing and somewhere another owl called. He closed his eyes and sighed like happy boys sometimes do, and felt himself drifting off again; at peace with himself and the world, and Rainbow’s End.

It started raining
then and the window slid shut; and Thomas Ross, Traveller Extraordinaire, slept.

35

The horse-herd was grazing a hundred
metres from the caves entrance
; they seldom came this close and Pegasus kept an alert eye out for lurking boys or girls. Edith and Annie sat watching them from one of the benches.

‘That foal is going to be a magnificent horse,’ Edith said of the black colt
, which couldn’t seem to make up its mind about whom to spend more time gallivanting with: his dam or his huge grey sire. The two women sat contentedly watching his shenanigans for another minute, and then Edith spoke again. ‘It will be Maggie’s birthday sometime next week… I think. I’ve lost all sense of time here,’ she said.

Annie looked at her new friend.
The almost three weeks Edith had so far spent at Rainbow’s End had been good to her: her red curls had grown out a bit and were showing quite a bit of grey, her light, easy to burn skin, had a healthy tan, and the few pounds she’d gained sat well on her previously-too-thin frame. Just that morning she’d said to Annie: “I’ve never in my life eaten so many desserts and ice-cream and other fattening things.”

Annie smile
d. ‘That’s nice,’ she said. ‘You can have a huge party when you get back home.’

Edith frowned. ‘You mean we’re not giving her a party here, then?’ she asked. ‘No celebration?’

‘No.’ Annie shook her head. She looked at Edith. ‘We don’t celebrate birthdays at Rainbow’s End, Edith,’ she said. ‘We have between forty and sixty children here at any given time - sometimes more. And us adults. Can you imagine having four or five - often more than that - parties every month? It would be a logistical nightmare. No,’ she shook her head again, ‘what we do instead, is try to make every day here, a special day - for every one of them.’ She swept her arm across the wonder of Rainbow’s End; and cocked her head at the happy screams and laughter coming from several directions at once, added, ‘and
that’s
not difficult.’   

They
sat looking at the valley for a few companionable minutes then: a few girls were coming out of one of the smaller caves set in a hill half a kilometre away; some boys were bunched together at the Fishing Pool - admiring a huge barbel; four or five of the smaller girls were running around the thousands of flowers, chasing butterflies with nets made of old stockings; Gary and some of the older boys were busy in a huge old tree at the edge of the Magic forest, building a tree-house; the Rainbow Pool, as usual, had its own small crowd of supporters - sunbathing or playing paddle-ball; Big John stood knee-deep in the water, the referee. Frieda and Maggie were drifting in one corner, together on a fat, black inner tube, watched over by a not-usually-present, but passionately in love Arnold.

‘Do
all
the children go back, Annie?’ Edith asked.

‘All of them.’ Annie nodded.

‘Where to?’ Edith frowned.

‘
Some return to their own homes - a lot happier and confident than they have ever been. The others - orphans and abandoned children - we place in our children’s homes. We have a lot of them - the homes, I mean.’ Annie gave the other woman a long, level look. ‘We look after our own, Edith,’ she said then. ‘Once a Rainbow’s End child, always a Rainbow’s End child.’

Annie checked the sun’s position
, and got to her feet. She put two fingers in her mouth, and let go with the most piercing whistle Edith had ever heard. It travelled and reverberated down the length of the valley, and everywhere children stopped doing whatever they were doing, and started towards the Rainbow Pool. Those inside it, including Frieda and Maggie, began getting out.

Edith frowned in puzzlement, but before she could ask, Annie held out a hand and pulled her to her feet.

‘Come,’ she said, with a mischievous little smile, ‘I - all of us, really, have a surprise for you.’

*****

The water was cool, and it pulsed and sucked around and at his body. It nibbled at the places where he’d been hurt, and Thomas couldn’t help but smile at the little tickling sensations - like very small fish nibbling at his skin. The nibbly places were a lot fewer than on the previous three occasions, he noted with satisfaction; in fact, he felt them getting less even as he floated along, almost suspended.

Beetles and birds were singing and talking in the grass and flowers and trees, and the sun overhead shone
warmly on his face; the air smelled sweet, and the occasional tinkling laugh and hoarse old cackle sounded from under the willow-tree. He smiled happily and closed his eyes and drifted off. It had been seven days since Thomas woke up, fifteen back at Rainbow’s End.

‘Enough, Thomas.’ It seemed like hours later when Ariana’s voice somehow penetrated the water submerging his body, leaving only his face uncovered; but by the movement of the sun through the clear blue sky, Thomas saw that only an hour or so had passed. He lazily turned onto his stomach, and slowly breast-stroked to the side of the pool before standing. He was wearing black shorts, and when he waded out of the shallows, Orson and Ariana’s eyes followed - searching, inspecting. The blue, black and purple bruises of the first days had turned a sickly yellow-brown after a week, but even those were now long gone, leaving the young man looking as he should: a healthy boy full of the joys and wonders and lust of life.

Ariana smiled at her Traveller and said, ‘He’s fine now, Orson.’ They were under the willow-tree, sharing a wooden bench, which until a
couple of hours ago, had been one of the flat-topped rocks lining this side of the pool.

Orson peered through the hanging boughs which almost totally screened them in. ‘As good as he was?’ he asked.

As if feeling their searching eyes, Thomas, in an unconscious gesture, touched and then traced the small rift of puckered skin at his temple with his fingertips. The sickle-shaped scar had been turned white by water and sun.

‘He’s better, Orson.
Better than he was.’ Ariana turned her almost navy eyes to him, and the Traveller could see the anger in their depths.

‘Thomas experienced the brutal ruthlessness of my brother and his Night Walkers very early on
,’ she said. ‘He knows them now, and what can be expected of them.’ She was silent for a minute, and then Ariana continued, ‘I could have taken the scar away,’ she said, ‘but I chose not to - not yet anyway. It will remind him of the nature of his foe. Every day. Every time he looks in a mirror.

‘Besides,’ she looked to Thomas again, ‘I
t gives him a rather raffish look, don’t you think?’

Orson grunted
. Seconds later a long, whistling screech filled the air, followed by a muted explosion, which rippled the surface of Ariana’s Pool. The Traveller glared at the goddess. ‘You didn’t tell me Izzy was coming,’ he accused.

She sighed. ‘He’s early,’ she said.

****
*

Everybody was already there: all of the children and the rest of the adults. Except for Gary and the Tanner boys standing off to one side, and Jason excitedly jumping up and down, all were sitting on the grassy banks. They were, without exception, and strangely, Edith thought, staring at the Rainbow-filled sky above.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked of Big John. He’d met Annie and her as they came down the path, and after giving a small
bow, had said, ‘Allow me madam,’ then took Edith’s elbow and steered her through the seated children.

Ignoring her question, John looked Edith
frankly up and down. She wore a light summer’s-dress and he asked, with a twinkle in his eyes, ‘I hope you’re wearing a bathing suit under that?’

Edith felt herself blush, and nodded, uncertainly. ‘Of course
I am,’ she replied, ‘but why?’ Frowning.

They halted
at the front of the small crowd, right on the verge of the brimming pool, and Edith noticed that it was much deeper than usual. John helped her sit, in a space obviously left open, and said, ‘This is the best spot. It is always given to our most important new guest.’

‘Yes,’ Edith’s tone was exasperated, ‘but what’s going on
, John?’ she asked again.

‘You’re about to meet Izzy
,’ he relented, and without another word, turned away and went to his own place amongst the youngest children. A puzzled Edith watched him sit down amongst them, and couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the little ones previously watching the sky, were now watching her, albeit furtively.

She began
looking around for Frieda and Maggie, and found them some seconds later, sitting about forty metres away - high above the water, on the rocky lip where she had first seen Frieda on the day she arrived. They were also watching her, and she frowned in puzzlement as Maggie waved and shouted something.

A long, drawn-out, whistling sound came from above then, and Edith looked to the sky herself. The whistling got louder, before turning into a thunderous roar and rattle, which seemed to shake her very bones, and she - not knowing if they were about to be hit by a train or an aeroplane - closed her ears with her palms of her hands. A blinding white flash replaced the Rainbow and she closed her eyes as well. A “WHUMPING!!” sound then - as a small bomb exploding, and Edith was swept away by a wall of water, tumbling head over heels in a tangle of hilariously screaming and laughing children’s limbs.

*****

‘I’m so very, very sorry, Thomas,’ said Izzy. It was mid-afternoon, and he’d just come from seeing Ariana. They were in Thomas’ room, and the lanky old Traveller had pulled up the desk-chair. He was sitting next to the bed, Thomas on top of it.

T
homas finished stacking together the small pile of newspaper-clippings he’d just read (all of them about the mysterious disappearance of the boy called Thomas Ross from “The Haven” hospital), and held them out to Izzy, who shook his head. ‘You can have them,’ he said.

‘It’s not your fault,’ Izzy he said,
putting the clippings on the bedside-table. ‘Surely you know that. If I had listened to you, and not insisted on going outside in the middle of the night, it would never have happened.’

Izzy sighed, still not altogether happy. ‘Oh, well,’ he said, ‘at least it brought you home. Even though almost dead…’
Seconds later he added, vehemently, ‘It will
never
happen again -
that
you can be sure of. No more walkabouts in after-dark London, not alone, not until you are much older…’

Thomas gave him a silent, level stare, which caused the visiting Traveller to fall uncomfortably silent, and drop his own b
rown eyes before the boy’s very clear green ones. ‘I know my enemies now, Izzy,’ he said, quietly, in a tone that had the old Traveller glad he wasn’t one of them.

He left it there, and said, ‘The police and newspapers, e
specially Sergeant Wilson and Marge - they’re all driving me mad. I have mentioned it to Ariana, and she thinks that you should Travel to London as soon as you feel up to it, and maybe give a press-conference. Just to set everybody’s minds at ease, and also to avoid unnecessary probing into the Rainbow Corporation’s activities. You can tell them that the old man and young woman took you to a beautiful place - you know not where - and there, miraculously healed you. You need not, and neither do I expect of you to lie. Can we do that?’

‘Of course.’ Thomas nodded, and then, to change the subject, asked, ‘How
are
Marge, and Sergeant Wilson?’

‘They were both extremely worried at first, of course,’ Izzy said, ‘but both felt a lot better after I spoke to them. I assured them that you were all right, and in the best hands possible.’ He grinned, wryly, ‘It doesn’t stop them from phoning me up almost every day
, though.’ He stood to go. ‘I can only stay today and tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I have an important meeting the day after. Can you let me know when you’d be coming to London before I leave?’

Thomas nodded, and Izzy paused with his hand on the door-handle, ‘Oh, yes,’ he said, ‘
Marge wouldn’t stop crying when she thanked me - and you, for the brooch, and Sergeant Wilson said it’s the most extravagant, but useful gift anyone has ever given him.’

*

‘And that’s how your little one ended up at Rainbow’s End,’ Izzy said, shrugging his bony shoulders and softly stroking Maggie’s wayward curls. The little girl had clambered into his lap as soon as he’d joined Edith and her in the dining room, and was curled up there now, sleeping. Small burbling sounds came from the cupid bow of her mouth.

Edith was crying and he dug in
a pocket, handing her his handkerchief. He’d skipped a lot of detail in the telling: The look on Maggie’s mother’s emaciated, waxen face; the little one’s own physical state - underfed and under-clothed, dirty and cold and tired of life at three; the small puddle she had been standing in - probably from fright at confronting a total stranger in just as strange a place; the Night Walkers… There was no reason in having Edith despise her dead daughter: what’s gone is gone, and the past best forgotten.