The Eye of Zoltar (21 page)

I lay quite still for a while, the events of the past day going through my head while by the light of the fireberries I could see Ralph sitting sentry on a rock, flint knife at the ready. I tied my handkerchief around my head to guard against yawning, then tried to get comfortable against the remains of the seats in the abandoned scout car. It was chilly and after the day’s events I thought sleep would be impossible. In less then five minutes I was proved wrong.

I awoke with a chill in my joints. The air was cold, and a thick layer of fog had draped the land in a soft milky blanket. I coughed and looked up. It was early, and I could see Wilson fast asleep close by. Ralph was still perched on the rock where I had seen him the previous night, but he was now hunched over, fast asleep. Gabby was nowhere to be seen, and as I looked around and stretched I was suddenly aware of a distant whistling noise, like the wind that sings through the tassels of a fast-moving flying carpet.

The noise appeared to be coming from the north, and what’s more, seemed to be getting louder. In another second Gabby came running into the campsite while wrestling to put on his backpack, and with a worried look on his face.

‘
Hang on to something!
’ he yelled. ‘
Leviathan on a feeding run!
’

Wilson was still asleep so I flung myself on top of him and wedged myself – and him – with both feet in a corner of the vehicle and my arms wrapped around the bent steering wheel. Gabby did the same, but around a door pillar.

The whistling increased and a breeze seemed to blow up – the fabled ‘squall line’ that preceded a low-level feeding run, intended to stir anything capable of flight into the air. A moment later and the air was flooded with birds of almost every description, eager to outrun the predator. I saw gulls tear past us, sparrows, a hawk, three herons, a pelican and two dozen starlings, all grouped together for protection. Many of them alighted in the wreckage of the vehicle and, momentarily unafraid of us, tucked themselves into any crevice they could find. Three puffins snuggled inside my coat and assorted sparrows, choughs, curlews and a woodpecker desperately attempted to wedge themselves beneath the armoured car’s hull.

The whistling increased in strength and the wind in the squall line increased. My ears popped, and all of a sudden a cloud of insects moved past, tumbling and fluttering in the wind. Butterflies and bees, wasps, ladybirds and myriad others gathered together in a confused and erratic swarm, all in a vain attempt to escape. Dust and dirt and small stones and clumps of grass were lifted and whipped and whirled into the air by the wind. I looked up to see whether I could see the Cloud Leviathan – you’d have done the same, I assure you – and that’s when I noticed Ralph. He was standing on his rock, flint blade in hand, peering at the colossus that was fast approaching. I could see the Leviathan now, or rather, I could see
parts
of it, the most obvious being the mouth – an oval gaping maw twenty foot wide and ringed by pearly-white teeth the size of artillery shells. The rest of the Leviathan seemed indistinct; more like a wobbly pattern in the air. In another few seconds the Leviathan was upon us, and as it went thundering overhead with the sound of a gigantic hoover, I caught a glimpse of Ralph jumping into the attack. Perhaps he thought a lone Australopithecine could bring down a Leviathan. Perhaps he wanted to be the first one to try. Perhaps deep down, the risk-averse loner that had once been Ralph D. Nalor wanted to end it all on the most daring endeavour of all. I don’t know, but Ralph managed to sink his dagger into the leathery hide of the beast as it moved past, and was then carried away as the Leviathan continued on its feeding run, seemingly untroubled by its passenger.

The armoured car in which we’d sought refuge lurched as the Leviathan went over, and then all was still. The wind subsided, and the birds all hopped from their hiding places, rubbed their beaks and then flew off, apparently unperturbed. Gabby and I watched as the Cloud Leviathan, or at least the shimmering shape where we thought the Leviathan might be, reared vertically upwards, venting air from the twin rows of vectored nostrils on its underbelly.

‘Isn’t that Ralph?’ I asked.

It was. Ralph was clinging to the belly of the beast as it rose several thousand feet into the air, streaming dust, feathers, dirt and grass as it went. Ralph was tenacious, that much was clear – he even had his large ladies’ handbag still in the crook of his arm.

‘Did I miss something?’ asked Wilson, blinking and getting up.

‘Kind of,’ I said, pointing in the direction of the tiny dot that was Ralph, clearly visible on the shimmering outline of the barely visible Leviathan. It looked almost as if he were rising alone, unsupported by anything at all. In a moment or two the Leviathan rolled on to its side to head north, and Ralph was lost to view.

‘Do you think he’s okay?’ I asked.

‘He’ll be fine for about as long as he can hang on,’ replied Gabby.

We stared into the now-empty sky for a few moments in silence.

‘He was a loyal companion to us both,’ I said sadly.

‘And will be missed,’ added Wilson.

‘Friends are always lost here in the Empire,’ said Gabby philosophically, ‘and we’ll lose more before the trip is over, I wager.’

‘Mathematically speaking you may be right,’ I said, thinking of Addie’s predicted fifty per cent Fatality Index, ‘but I hope not.’

‘That Leviathan was low,’ mused Gabby as he unhooked something from the jagged edge of the armoured car’s shattered body. He laid the scrap of leathery material across his arm, where it changed colour to match his skin. He laid it across my skin and it darkened almost instantaneously to match mine.

‘Scraps of Leviathan skin fetch a good price on the Cambrianopolis black market, I’ve heard,’ said Wilson.

‘If the Emperor’s men find you with this your head will be off,’ said Gabby. ‘It’s better to let it go.’

And so saying, he released the section of skin, which floated off into the air like a helium balloon.

‘Leviathans are lighter than air?’ I said, amazed at what I was seeing.

‘How else do you think something so large could fly?’ asked Gabby, then added: ‘We’d better get going. With a bit of luck we can get to the edge of the Empty Quarter before something considers that we’d make a fine breakfast. And Jennifer?’

‘Yes?’

‘I think you’ve still got some puffins inside your jacket.’

It was true. They seemed to have taken a liking to the pockets, and had to be carefully removed.

We walked in silence for the next three hours or so, now and then pausing to hide from danger, drink from a mountain stream or nibble on some wild radishes. Eventually we came across the now-dormant marker stones that denoted the edge of the Dragonlands and the northern edge of the Empty Quarter. The stones were covered with a thick crust of lichen, and appeared forlorn and forgotten. Llangurig would be only a few miles away.

Gabby called a halt.

‘Any particular reason?’ I asked.

‘Breakfast.’

‘You have some?’

‘No,’ said Gabby with a smile, ‘but they will.’

He pointed towards a stunted oak. The roots had grasped one of the marker stones tightly, and the overhanging branches partially hid a small group of people. A quick leg count told me this was a group of five people and I was suddenly suspicious until I realised that six of the legs belonged to one creature – a Buzonji – and that the other legs belonged to Perkins, and Addie. I blinked away some tears. I had convinced myself I would not see them again.

‘Heigh-ho!’ said Addie cheerfully as she walked into the clearing. ‘How are my tourists?’

I must say that I have rarely been so glad to see someone safe and well. Perkins, that was, and Addie a close second.

‘Hey, Jenny,’ said Perkins, and he gave me a long hug, taking the opportunity to whisper in my ear how much he’d missed me. I returned the compliment gladly and unconditionally, but I must confess that his increased age – he’d put on ten years with Ralph’s Genetic Master Reset, remember – was not something I was going to get used to quickly.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked. ‘Not harmed in any way, I mean?’

‘I’m fine,’ he said, ‘but I can’t say the same for the kidnappers.’

‘Dead?’

He didn’t say anything, but just looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

‘Hail, fellow,’ said Addie to Gabby, grasping his hand and shaking it warmly, ‘good to see you again.’

‘You know each other?’ I asked, surprised, but unsure why I should be.

‘He’s my secret weapon,’ said Addie. ‘Everyone should have a Gabby to look after them.’

‘You sent Gabby to keep an eye on us?’ I asked.

‘Only to remain on standby in case anything happened.’

I looked at Gabby, who shrugged.

‘I should have said something, I suppose,’ he said, ‘but I didn’t know until two minutes ago that Addie was okay, and, well, I’m just in it for the rescuing.’

I thanked him, and Addie quizzed Gabby further. Safe jeopardy tourism – any tourism, actually – I had decided, was all about information. The more of it you have, the better the decisions you can make.

‘I found them two clicks north-west of the pod poles,’ said Gabby when Addie questioned him. ‘They’d lost their transport and were about to be emptied by a Lifesucker. I brought them here by way of the Dragon’s lair.’

‘Was that wise?’ asked Addie.

‘Perhaps, perhaps not,’ said Gabby, ‘but we made it without loss.’

‘Except Ralph,’ I said, ‘who tried to attack a Cloud Leviathan while it was on a low-level feeding run. I think he had an exciting ride while it lasted.’

‘And the others?’

I explained that Curtis had stolen the half-track with my ‘handmaiden’ on board and Addie agreed Curtis would be heading towards Llangurig, almost certainly to sell Laura, as Wilson suggested.

She didn’t yet know, of course, that Laura was anything but a handmaiden – but for now, while an odd one, she was a handmaiden nonetheless. I also told her Ignatius was dead.

‘Flesh-eating slugs?’ she asked. ‘He never was a fast mover.’

‘He tried to escape to the border in a rowing boat and was shot down by anti-aircraft fire.’

‘Wow,’ said Addie, ‘I would never have seen
that
coming.’

‘Neither did he.’

‘If you don’t need me for anything more,’ said Gabby, ‘I’ll be off. I’ve got some raw recruits to train in the risk management business. Staff turnover is savagely high these days.’

We all shook hands. I thanked him again and after politely refusing an offer of breakfast, he was off at a brisk walk and was soon lost to view over a rise.

We sat on the warm grass, and a picnic breakfast never tasted so good. There was tea in a billycan, too, boiled up over the residual Thermowizidrical energy emanating from the runic markings on the fallen marker stones.

‘So what’s the deal with Gabby?’ I asked.

‘He’s exactly what you see. Someone who assesses risk of death, and steps in to intervene if the right conditions prevail.’

‘Why didn’t he save Ralph if he works for the insurance companies? Someone like that wouldn’t come out here without adequate life cover.’

‘Ralph wasn’t human,’ said Addie, ‘and Gabby’s instructions are clear. If he was rescuing non-humans, where would he draw the line? Tralfamosaurs? Rabbits? Ladybirds?’

‘He was
definitely
a rum cove,’ added Wilson thoughtfully. ‘He never ate or drank, and I didn’t see him sleep last night. He was still awake as I nodded off, and awake before me.’

‘And me,’ I said. ‘And he never took off his backpack. I only saw him struggling with it once, when he returned to camp this morning.’

‘Listen,’ said Addie, ‘Gabby is what Gabby does and it’s best not to ask too many questions. There are some things out here that defy ordinary explanation, and Gabby, well, he’s one of them.’

‘So … what about the kidnappers?’ I asked, helping myself to another bread roll, but this time with peanut butter. I saw Perkins and Addie exchange looks.

‘If you’d rather not—’ began Wilson.

‘No, we should tell you,’ said Addie. ‘I tracked them to a camp about five miles from Cambrianopolis,’ she continued, taking a sip of tea, ‘and then waited until dawn before walking into their camp. I told them my word of death was in the steel I carried, and that they could stay there alive if they relinquished Perkins, or stay there dead if they did not. I knew they wouldn’t give him up, but it’s traditional to offer some sort of deal.’

‘Three against one?’ I said. ‘No offence or anything, Addie, but you’re not even half their size. Did you think you had a chance?’

‘What I lack in weight I make up for in savagery,’ she said, ‘and no offence taken. I weighed my chances in at about seventy/thirty in my favour. It would have been a hard hand-to-hand struggle, but I would have won out eventually. I would have left them to the flesh-eating slugs, set free their Buzonjis, and returned with Perkins. They knew I would have to do this when they took him. They would have
expected
me to come for them.’

‘Did it pan out that way?’ I asked.

‘It would have,’ said Addie, ‘but for your friend here.’

I turned to Perkins.

‘What did you do?’ I asked him.

‘She turned up and, yes, did the whole dopey tribal honour speech,’ replied Perkins, ‘which was quite stirring in a simplistic, barbaric and pointless-death kind of way, and I said that if she killed them I wouldn’t come with her.’

‘I told him he didn’t have a choice,’ said Addie, staring into her teacup, ‘that I would bind him like a hog and return him whether he liked it or not.’

Wilson and I looked at Perkins expectantly.

‘So,’ said Perkins, ‘I told her I would pop myself if she laid so much as a finger on any of them.’

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Popping’ was the last resort for a wizard, a simple spell that caused a haemorrhage in the brain. Unconsciousness would be instantaneous, and death would soon follow.

‘That put me in a quandary,’ said Addie, ‘for it would be a treble failure. I would still have to kill the bandits as threatened, the Silurians and the Oldivicians would go to war, and the trophy in the argument – Perkins – would be lost too. There were no winners. So I did something I’ve never done before. I told them that I would not be killing them as there was no good reason for it, and that I would lose my honour in order to keep the peace between our two tribes.’