The Homeward Bounders (23 page)

Read The Homeward Bounders Online

Authors: Diana Wynne Jones

BOOK: The Homeward Bounders
10.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Luckily, nobody thought he meant just that. They didn't have such things in that world. A lot of people turned away in embarrassment. I tried to make Joris move on. “But I thought you liked Konstam.”

“Oh yes, I like Konstam.” Joris consented to shamble gloomily on. “I love demon hunting. I'd never want to do anything else, or work with anyone but Konstam. It's just being a slave I hate.”

“Oh,” I said. “How long have you hated it?” It seemed to me that it could only have been half an hour at the longest. But no.

“Ever since I was first sold,” Joris said miserably. “Only you don't think about it. It doesn't do any good. I suppose I started to think about hating it when I thought I wasn't going to see Konstam again. Then Adam wanted to sell Vanessa. That made me feel terrible.” Then he stood still again and shouted.
“I hate it!”
And we had an audience again.

“Do keep walking,” I said. “Look, if you hate it that much, why don't you tell Konstam? He doesn't seem the kind of man who—”

“What good would that do?” Joris demanded, in a sort of half-shout. “The only way to stop being a slave is to buy my freedom, and slaves aren't allowed to earn money. And even if I
could
earn money, where am I going to get anything like twenty thousand crowns from?”

“Um,” I said. “I see your problem. Wait a moment! You demon hunters are the only people I know who can get into other worlds. What's—”

Someone called out, “Can't you find somewhere else to rehearse your play?”

That made Joris move on fast.

“What's to stop you,” I panted, as I pattered along beside him, “putting money away in a bank somewhere like this world, where they don't have slaves?”

“That's a good idea,” Joris said, striding along. “But I'd have to tell Konstam—Oh no! I'd just
never
earn all that money. It's hopeless.”

There didn't seem to be anything I could say to cheer him up, either.

We got back to the house. There was Helen, and there was Konstam with her. They were standing in the hall, just in front of Fred, both looking delighted. Helen's face was all pink through the brown, just like Konstam's. Helen had her sleeve rolled up and her arm was—well, it almost wasn't. It was like an arm-shaped bar of light. I could see the carpet and Fred through it. But the odd thing about it—the really creepy thing—was that in the arm, in the middle of the bar of light, I could see the faint, faint outline of another arm, a much smaller arm, all drawn up and withered. That was the arm Helen had been born with. No wonder she hadn't wanted to show anyone.

Konstam looked up at us like the cat that had the cream. “Look! We have our living blade!”

You know, I almost stormed off in a sulk. I do all the work, and Konstam reaps the benefit! But that would have been behaving like Adam. Adam had the cheek to come up to me in the kitchen, looking injured.

“I don't know why Konstam had to be like that when I said I'd sell him Vanessa. It was only a joke.”

“Oh yes?” I said. I knew it wasn't a joke. He knew I knew.

I made him help me get supper after that. I felt like Cinderella, but I didn't feel like being on my own. I kept thinking, I've put off going Home for these people, and none of them have even noticed, let alone thanked me! I thought a good supper might cheer me up. I could cook better than Vanessa, anyway, but, then, almost anyone could.

Adam drifted off, in the most natural, absent-minded way, as soon as I got cooking, and everyone else disappeared as well. Usually people drift back when food is ready. The human race is born with an instinct, I think. But this lot didn't. I had to go and find them. Helen and Adam were poring over the rule books in the basement. The rest of them were in the living room. Joris was shouting in there. I sort of hovered in the doorway, not knowing if I was interrupting or not.

Konstam had his arm round Vanessa. He was a quick worker, was Konstam. Joris was standing in front of them, shouting. He had his most hurt, freckled look. “So now you know how much I hate it!” he yelled.

“Then why didn't you
say
so?” Konstam said. “Listen—”

Konstam kept saying “Listen,” but Joris was too worked up to attend. “There's no point in telling people, least of all you!” Joris said. “There's no way I could earn any money, is there? There's no way—”

“Joris,
listen
to him!” shouted Vanessa.

She made it a real scream. That got through to Joris. He came to and blinked at her.

“I keep trying to tell you,” Konstam said. “I'd have explained years ago if I'd known you were this worried. As far as I'm concerned, you're as free as I am, in this world or any other, except our own. You're only a slave there because the law doesn't allow you to be freed until you're eighteen. But Elsa Khan has the manumission papers all drawn up ready, and she'll register them the day you're eighteen. Does that make you feel better?”

“No,” said Joris. “You've spent a lot of money for nothing.”

Konstam laughed. “Nothing, you say? Joris, since you've been my partner, we've earned what you cost twice a year, and sometimes more. Your share is in a special account, waiting until you're eighteen—and before you say what you've opened your mouth to say, yes, you can pay me back if you want to. You'll still be rich even when you have.”

Since Joris was looking so flabbergasted, I thought the kindest thing to do was to come in like a butler and bow. “Sirs and madam, supper is served.”

XIII

My jabbering machine has decided this is Chapter Thirteen. Very appropriate. Now we come to our war against
Them
.

It was to have been a dawn offensive, just as if it was a mud-brown war, but we overslept a bit. It was quite daft of us, considering the Bounds might have called us any time, but we forgot all about that.

We were talking until late in the night. I'd stopped feeling like Cinderella hours before we went to bed. It was such fun, talking. Homeward Bounders are usually careful not to get too thick with people, but I got careless there. I was really fond of them all. I was even fond of Adam, which Vanessa said was quite difficult to do. But I admired Adam's cool cheek. And I admired the way that he was still joining in the war, even though he couldn't see
Them
. It was like a blind man going to war. I swore to him I'd keep beside him and tell him where
They
were.

It was about the middle of the morning when we were all ready to go. By that time, I'd almost forgotten the Bounds. We had quite a lot of stuff to put on ourselves. It all seemed to me a bit silly—like the charms and amulets ignorant people wear in savage worlds—but Joris swore to me the things worked. I'd taken to believing Joris lately.

For a start, we all wore white somewhere, even Helen, though her white was only the background to the black sign of Shen on her chest. She said, “The Hands of Uquar are always in black.” Konstam said he wasn't going to alter that. Helen had her own power and must use it in her own way. But Adam had more nerve than the rest of us, and he asked her why they wore black. Instead of biting him, Helen said, “Didn't I say? It's in mourning for the terrible fate of Uquar.”

Adam lent me a white shirt, and he wore the clothes he had worn to play that game in. Vanessa had what she called a white boiler suit. She had even found white boots. When the sign of Shen was fixed to the front of the boiler suit, she looked almost like a demon hunter too. Konstam was enchanted with the way she looked. He held both her hands and told her so.

“Billing and cooing!” Adam said disgustedly.

“Shut up, toad,” said Vanessa.

After that, we took the objects with odd names off Frederick M. Allington and hung them round our necks or strapped them on our wrists as Konstam told us. Adam said Fred looked a little naked now. He fetched a newspaper that had arrived on the doormat and gave it to Fred to hold under his bony arm.

“It's the thirteenth today,” he said, and showed me the paper. It was Sunday July 13th. “I hope that's an omen for
Them
.”

“You don't talk of omens,” Konstam said severely. “Here is a knife each. Are we ready to go now?”

We were ready. Vanessa and Adam had both written letters to their parents—they told the exact truth in them and explained all about
Them
, even though I'd tried to persuade them not to. Vanessa put her letter on the hall table. Adam put his between Fred's teeth. Then we got into the unpoetic car, with a lot of squeezing, and drove to
Their
fort again.

Third time lucky, I kept telling myself nervously, while we were creeping in the uncanny silence among the bushes. The silence really got me, while we were crossing the dip and making for the other side of the fort, where the door must be. I kept looking at Joris to encourage myself. Joris was so happy after what Konstam had told him that he was smiling even now.

We got to the gravel terrace on that side of the triangular building. And there was the door. It seemed to be plate-glass, with a handle in it. I could see the canal arches reflected in it. Konstam had said there was no point being secret, so we came boldly out of the bushes and crossed the gravel to the door. I could see all our white-clothed reflections in it as we came. I didn't blame Adam for only seeing those reflections. I could barely see
Them
beyond. And that was not right. It was different from the way I had seen things at the Old Fort.
They
had both turned to look at us.
They
seemed to be smiling.


They
knew we were coming,” I said.

“Of course,” said Konstam. He put his white glove firmly on the door handle. “It stands to reason
They
know. Adam and Vanessa must show on
Their
table. I must be missing from mine.” He jerked the handle.

I had a moment of pure panic. “Then—”

“I'm relying on you three random factors,” said Konstam. I told you Konstam was brave. Nothing would have possessed me to go there, if I'd realized
They
'd know. “This door is shut. Helen.”

Helen came forward, rolling up her sleeve, and her arm turned to a bar of light as she did it. Behind the glass,
They
looked uneasily at one another and moved back.

“Now
They
're worried,” said Konstam. “I thought
They
would be.”

Helen stretched our her bar of light—it still worked like an arm—and touched the glass of the door. The glass shriveled and writhed like hot cellophane. Cracks spread out in it from Helen's near invisible fingers. Then it was not there any more. There was just a dim space. Konstam leaped into this space with a ringing shout, and Joris and Helen followed him. As Vanessa went through, I took Adam's arm to lead him after, but he pushed me off.

“It's all right. I can see
Them
now.” And he took his glasses off as if it was more comfortable not seeing
Them
too well.

Inside,
They
were retreating down the triangular room, hurriedly from Konstam and very, very warily from Helen. Joris was in front of the massive door at the other end, ahead of
Them
. Adam, Vanessa and I spread out on either side of the machines, to make sure
They
didn't try to get away this end. By that time, Konstam and Helen were going round either end of the table, under the great hanging dice.
They
seemed to be trapped.

I couldn't resist taking a look at the table. It was amazing. It didn't seem big enough to hold all it did—but there it all was, everything in the world, down to the tiniest detail. Whatever you looked at, you saw clear, clear, and very small. I saw a mud-brown war going on somewhere in Africa, and another in the north of India. I saw a yacht capsize in an ocean. I saw the very city we were in, with tiny cars and minute people going about their Sunday business. You could see into churches and cars and houses if you wanted, although they all had roofs—I don't know how that was done. I even saw a tiny black triangle where we should have been ourselves. But that was the one thing you couldn't see into.

I only glanced for a second. When I looked up again, the room was one of many triangular rooms. There were rooms all round, and above and beyond and below, just as I had seen them before. Only this time,
They
were not strolling over for a look.
They
were hurrying towards us urgently.

“Oh my Gawd!” said Adam.

There was an awful noise. It was inhuman. I couldn't tell whether it was a hooter or a bell—it was something like both, and quite deafening. While it was sounding, the triangles were all melting and moving and expanding. You felt as if you were tipping all ways at once. It made me dizzy. And it happened in no time at all. When it had finished, we were in what I'm now sure is the
real
Real Place. It was the one Joris had seen. A vast, vast hall stretched not-quite-seeably as far as we could tell in any direction, with tables and tables and tables, and dice, and multitudes of machines. And
They
were there in multitudes too, closing swiftly in on us, horrible and hard-to-see, in a host of gray cloaks.

Other books

Broken to Pieces by Avery Stark
Notebooks by Leonardo da Vinci, Irma Anne Richter, Thereza Wells
At Long Last by DeRaj, N.R.
Crystal Meth Cowboys by John Knoerle
Healer by Bonnie Watson