SandRider Page 9

  “Rules is rules,” Catchpole said, doggedly holding the broom across the ever-widening gap. Tod saw that his gaze had shifted and was now fixed on someone behind her. “You’ll have to wait an’ all,” Catchpole told whoever it was. Tod glanced back, expecting to see one of the elderly Wizards, but to her surprise she saw Jim Knee. He stood, tall and resplendent in his long fur coat, glaring at Catchpole. The jinnee, like all jinn who were at a Master’s disposal, disliked authority. Jim Knee particularly disliked the Catchpole variety: the relish of enforcing petty regulations. He had had a few Masters like that himself, and he didn’t like to see a young Apprentice being treated in this way.

  “Let the Apprentice leave as she wishes,” Jim Knee said. There was a threat in his voice that would have given most people a jolt of fear, but Boris Catchpole, who was not the most subtle of people, did not notice. He positioned himself firmly in front of the gap and held tightly onto the broom. “Let . . . her . . . leave,” Jim Knee repeated.

  “She can go out when the doors is fully open like everyone else does,” Catchpole retorted.

  Jim Knee stared at Catchpole with narrowed eyes. A long, low growl rippled through his body, making the hairs on the back of Tod’s neck stand up. Jim Knee began to shiver and sway. There was a sudden flash of yellow and Catchpole screamed. Planted firmly in Jim Knee’s place, teeth bared, muscles flexed, ready to pounce, was a long, low, yellow-and-black-striped tiger. A menacing snarl filled the Great Hall, a distant Wizard shrieked and Catchpole fainted—but not before Tod had seized her chance and raced out of the ever-widening gap into the frosty early-morning air. She stopped at the top of the steps. It was as she had feared. The courtyard was deserted. Kaznim had gone.

  UNSEEN

  With the tiger bounding at her side, Tod raced across the courtyard and through the Great Arch. Wizard Way was beginning to fill as arrivals from the early-morning Port Barge mingled with the Castle stallholders. Tod scanned the scene before them. “I have to find her, Jim Knee,” she said desperately. “She’s our only clue to where the Orm Egg is. I promised Septimus I’d look after her, and all I’ve done is lost her.”

  In the shadows of her UnSeen, Kaznim, who was standing no more than a few feet from Tod, saw the tiger and froze. They had sent a wild beast out for her—just as the Red Queen did for her father. Kaznim prayed to the Sand Spirits that the tiger would not smell her scent.

  The tiger was, however, far more interested in the scent of the hot-sausage-sandwich cart trundling toward them. It growled hungrily, opened its mouth and flicked its huge pink tongue around its black lips. A string of tiger saliva dripped onto the snow. Terrified, Kaznim shrank back against the wall.

  Tod felt utterly deflated. Her only hope had been that Kaznim would be easy to spot. Not many people in the Castle wore red, partly because it was the Queen’s color and partly because it was the fashion to wear natural shades. Tod had also hoped that Wizard Way would be deserted, as it usually was at such an early hour, but today was the day of the Manuscriptorium Sled Races and she had not realized how early the preparations would begin. Before she had been asked to PathFind Jim Knee to his first desert, Tod had been due to represent the Wizard Tower in the Apprentice Race. She had put in a few practice runs and loved it. She pushed aside a pang of regret at the thought of her substitute having all the fun. Some things, she told herself, were more important than a sled race.

  Aware that the seconds were ticking away fast, Tod scanned the hive of activity before her: people setting up stalls, Manuscriptorium scribes erecting barriers and hanging banners, marshals trying to keep the sled course clear and in the midst of it all, the hot-sausage-sandwich cart banging into everyone’s legs and getting sworn at for its trouble.

  Desperately, Tod searched the sea of grays, browns and muted greens for a flash of color. A red scarf caught her eye but it belonged to Foxy, a lanky scribe who was tending the banks of snow that separated the sled course from the spectators.

  Where had Kaznim gone?

  From the safety of her UnSeen Kaznim stared at Tod and Jim Knee. Please, she silently prayed, please let them go away. Please. She did not dare move, for she knew they would see her footprints appearing in the cold white sand.

  Tod now became aware of a feeling that she was being watched. Remembering what Septimus had told her about being still and listening to what she felt, she stopped searching the Way for a glimpse of red and concentrated hard. Suddenly she caught a tang of unfamiliar Magyk. She turned around and looked at the spot where it came from—a patch just in front of the courtyard wall where two small footprints were planted in the snow.

  Kaznim saw Tod looking straight at her and she understood that it was all over. She closed her eyes and waited for the tiger to pounce. Suddenly there was a scream.

  “Aiiieeee!” It was the sausage-sandwich cart boy, staring into the jaws of a hungry tiger. Kaznim opened her eyes to see the boy racing past her, scattering sausages as he went. She watched them roll across the white sand, bizarrely making it sizzle and turn to water. She saw the tiger wolfing up the sausages, while screams spread through the throng as people began to realize that there was a tiger on the loose. As panic spread and people scattered, Kaznim saw the pickpocket Apprentice girl grab hold of the tiger’s scruff and say: “Jim Knee, stop it! You’re scaring everyone. Transform now, please. Please, Jim Knee!”

  The pickpocket Apprentice girl was, Kaznim thought, surprisingly brave—and oddly polite.

  Tod had no option but to be polite. It was her only hope of getting Jim Knee to do as she asked—it was not for her to Command Septimus’s jinnee.

  However, Jim Knee was not about to give up the luxury of control over his own form and he had not the slightest intention of obeying Tod’s request. Besides, now that he had eaten a few sausages, the jinnee was beginning to enjoy being a tiger. He loved the feel of his four softly padded, broad feet moving silently over the snow, the sense of the power in his muscles and the knowledge that they would take him wherever he wanted to go. The warmth of his fur in the frosty air was a delight and the smells that wafted toward his wide, sensitive nostrils were entrancing. He liked the smooth sharpness of his strong white teeth, which did not ache in the cold like his ancient, crumbling jinnee teeth; and when he opened his mouth to catch a falling snowflake on his thick pink tongue, he loved the way everyone screamed. For a weedy jinnee, who was more used to being laughed at than feared, it was heady stuff. Why would he want to be anything else? He wriggled free of Tod’s hold and took off down Wizard Way.

  Kaznim watched Tod hurtle after the tiger, shouting out, “Stop, stop! Jim Knee, please stop!” and she knew that now was her chance. She must seize it before her UnSeen wore off and the Apprentice girl and her wild beast tracked her down. Quickly, Kaznim smoothed out the blue paper bird in which her Charm had been wrapped and once more read the words:

  THE MAGYKAL MANUSCRIPTORIUM

  AND SPELL CHECKERS INCORPORATED

  NUMBER THIRTEEN WIZARD WAY, THE CASTLE.

  AS PREMIER ADVISORS TO THE FABLED WIZARD TOWER,

  WE ARE PROUD TO OFFER A NEW GLOBAL SERVICE.

  WE HAVE MANY THOUSANDS OF YEARS’ EXPERIENCE.

  WE CAN SOURCE MOST REQUIREMENTS.

  WE HAVE AN EXTENSIVE STOCK OF

  CHARMS, RUNES AND SPELL BOOKS

  OR WE CAN REFURBISH YOUR OWN.

  CONVENIENTLY SITUATED ON THE ANCIENT WAY SYSTEM FOR EASY ACCESS FROM ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD.

  Kaznim read the last line of the flyer again: Anywhere in the World. A thrill of happiness ran through her. If the Manuscriptorium could get messages all the way to her tent, then it could get her there too. As the wave of tiger-related screams rolled away into the distance, Kaznim followed a small signpost with a finger pointing to: The Manuscriptorium. It led her to a line of shops almost hidden behind the banks of white sand. As she walked toward number thirteen, Kaznim felt as though she were taking the first steps on her journey home.

  TIGER TROUBLE

>   At the other end of Wizard Way, Tod’s troubles were mounting fast. People were not taking kindly to the presence of a tiger bounding through the middle of preparations for the sled race. Tod’s chasing it, yelling, “Jim Knee, Jim Knee!” did not go down well either. Recently there had been a variety of pranks played by a rowdy group of Senior Apprentices who called themselves the Knights of Knee, in homage to their anarchic hero, Jim Knee.

  “Jim Knee! Please! Transform!” Tod begged as she scooted after the jinnee. Jim Knee took no notice of her whatsoever. Every torchpost along that side of Wizard Way was now festooned not only with race banners but also with the more agile of the stallholders. A stampede across the sled racetrack had led to bodies sprawled across the slippery ice as though in the aftermath of a battle. And through the chaos loped Jim Knee, excited by his tiger-ness, loving the cool, sprung padding of his tiger feet, the smell of fear and the heady feeling of power.

  Desperately, Tod tried to calm the panic. “It’s not a real tiger!” she yelled. “It’s only Jim Knee!”

  But the mention of Jim Knee only led to shouts of “Shame on you, Apprentice!” and “You should know better!”

  Jim Knee raced on, scattering people as he went, and Tod knew he was loving every second. She at last caught up with the tiger at a bacon sandwich stall where he was demolishing its entire stock of bacon. Above him, at the top of a torchpost, the sandwich girl watched in dismay.

  “Jim . . . Knee . . .” Tod puffed. “Please. That’s enough . . . Please, will you Transform now? Please!” The tiger turned around and stared at Tod, strips of bacon hanging from its mouth like a fresh kill. It crouched low and bared its teeth, spittle shining in the sunlight. Tod backed away, scared. There didn’t seem to be much of Jim Knee left anymore. She remembered what Septimus had told her about jinnee Transformation and how the nature of the creature that the jinnee had Transformed to would slowly take over. The tiger snarled a warning and shot off down Measel’s Ope, the nearest alleyway. Tod went to follow but someone grabbed hold of her. “Tod, don’t!” came a familiar voice.

  Tod spun around. “Ferdie!” she gasped. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  Ferdie Sarn was the twin sister of Oskar Sarn; both were Tod’s oldest friends from her home village. Ferdie smiled at the unexpected sight of her old friend. Ferdie’s bright blue eyes sparkled in the wintery sun, and her red curls escaped happily from beneath her green woolen hat. “Well, what are you doing chasing after a tiger?” she asked, looking anxiously down Measel’s Ope. “And what’s a tiger doing in the Castle—they don’t usually have them here, do they?” Ferdie grabbed hold of her companion, a blond-haired boy of about seven, and said, “No, William, you do not want to go down there.”

  William, the son of Simon and Lucy Heap, was squirming with excitement. “But I like tigers,” he protested.

  “And it would probably like you, too,” said Ferdie. “You’d be really soft and squishy to eat.”

  William stuck his tongue out at Ferdie. “No I wouldn’t,” he said. “I’d be crunchy.” But to make sure the tiger didn’t get to find out whether he was squishy or crunchy, William hid behind Ferdie and gazed shyly up at Tod. He thought she looked very important in her green tunic and silver Apprentice belt.

  “He’s not really a tiger,” Tod began to explain. “He’s a—” Then she remembered she wasn’t meant to talk about Jim Knee outside the Wizard Tower and stopped, feeling a little awkward.

  “A secret,” Ferdie finished for her. “One of your new Apprentice secrets. Some kind of tiger spell?”

  “Well . . .” Tod hesitated. Ferdie was an old friend, someone she had known all her life, and she longed to tell her about the jinnee. In fact, she longed to tell her about the whole disastrous morning. But, like Jim Knee with his tiger-ness, the Wizard Tower code was seeping into Tod and she felt awkward sharing its problems, even with her closest friend. “Ferdie,” she said, “I’ve got to go.”

  Ferdie looked sadly at her old friend. “Okay. See you around, then.”

  “I mean, I’ve got to go because . . .” Tod trailed off. It struck her that the more people there were looking for Kaznim, the better. “I’m looking for a little girl in red. She was running away.”

  Ferdie looked surprised. “Running away? From you?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose so,” Tod admitted as she glanced around, checking for a glimpse of red. “Ferd, this is really important. I’ve made a massive mistake. I have to find her.”

  “I’ll help you!” William said. “I’m good at hide-and-seek.”

  Ferdie was shocked at how upset Tod seemed. “Hey, don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll both help you. A little girl in red will be easy to spot.”

  They hurried down the Way to the Palace Gates and then followed the racecourse as it took a sharp right along Snake Slipway. The ice glittered as the rays of the sun emerged above the snowy rooftops of the tall houses on either side of the winding street, and the banks of snow that lined the course shone a pristine white, smooth with the snowfall from the night before. There was a good view of the course as it ran down the actual slipway and took another sharp right turn onto the frozen Moat. On the opposite bank was an expanse of snow and beyond that, the tall, dark trees at the edge of the Forest. Tod scanned the scene for a glimpse of red while William drew faces in the snow bank.

  “I don’t think she could have got this far,” Tod said. “Well, I hope not. She’ll freeze. She’s only wearing a thin cotton coat.”

  “Who is she?” Ferdie asked. “Or is that another secret?” she added a little tetchily.

  Tod avoided the question. “Come on, Ferd, she must still be on Wizard Way somewhere. We’ll go up the other side.”

  They slid across the icy course while William skidded around excitedly, then they hurried up the other side of the Way. As they negotiated their path through the line outside the Castle teens’ favorite eatery, Wizard Sandwiches, Tod found herself fielding tiger-related complaints.

  “Hey, Apprentice. Are you Wizards starting a bloomin’ zoo up there?”

  “Apprentice. It trashed my stall. I want compensation.”

  Impressed, Ferdie watched Tod politely apologizing and telling everyone that the tiger was perfectly safe. Ferdie felt a little left behind by Tod. When they had been friends in their village at home, she and Tod had shared all their secrets and discoveries. But now Tod was learning so many new things that Ferdie knew she would never understand. Ferdie was not helped by the fact that her twin brother, Oskar, was also becoming immersed in Castle life. Oskar now helped out at the Manuscriptorium and was loving it. But all Ferdie was doing right then was helping William’s mother, Lucy Heap. It was fun, but it wasn’t quite in the same league as her best friend or even her brother.

  Tod finished dealing with yet another complaint: “I’m sorry, but I haven’t got any complaint forms. You can ask Catchpole at the door.”

  “You’re really part of it all here now, aren’t you?” Ferdie said wistfully,

  Tod felt awkward. “Ferd, I’m an Apprentice here. You know that. So of course I’m part of it. But . . . it’s not all as great as you might think. Today everything has gone wrong. You just wouldn’t believe.”

  Ferdie felt the old Tod reappearing. She linked arms just as they used to and said, “Hey, Tod. Nothing can be that bad. And you’ve always got us. You, me and Oskie, we’re the Tribe of Three—remember?”

  “I do remember,” Tod said. “Really I do.”

  They walked slowly up Wizard Way, looking out for any glimpse of red. While they searched, Tod remembered how she, Ferdie and Oskar had promised one another that they would track down the Orm Egg themselves. Tod realized that, with the excitement of the Wizard Tower being on the trail of the Orm Egg, she had forgotten her promise to the Tribe of Three. But now, she reflected, it didn’t matter anyway. She had let the only chance of finding the Orm Egg slip away. She was, Tod told herself, rotten at keeping promises.

  Ferdie was sad to see Tod s
o frazzled. Nothing was worth that, Ferdie thought, not even a swanky Apprenticeship with an ExtraOrdinary Wizard. She squeezed Tod’s arm sympathetically. “Don’t worry,” she said. “It will be . . .” Ferdie grinned and made the PathFinder sign for “okay”—touching the top of her right index finger and thumb together to make an “O.”

  The sight of the familiar sign decided it for Tod. At least she could keep her promise to her friends. “Ferd,” she said, “there’s some stuff I really want to tell you, but . . .” She looked at William Heap, who was gazing up at them, listening intently.

  “But later,” Ferdie said with a grin. “Later, when I’ve taken William home.”

  “But I don’t want to go home,” said William. “I want to be in the Tribe of Three.”

  Ferdie smiled. “When you’re older,” she said.

  William scowled. “You’re just like Mum. She always says that when I ask to do stuff.”

  Ferdie laughed. She was more than happy to be just like William’s mother. She liked Lucy Heap a lot. “See you later?” she said to Tod. “I’ll be up at the Sled Shed with Oskie. You know he’s racing the Manuscriptorium sled in the Apprentice Race?” she said proudly. A thought occurred to her. “Hey, are you racing in the Apprentice too?”

  “I was going to be, but . . .” Tod trailed off.

  Ferdie looked at her quizzically. “Another secret?” she asked.

  Tod sighed. “Not for long, I promise. I’ll see you up at the Sled Shed with Oskie before the race.”

  “Tribe of Three in the Sled Shed,” Ferdie said with a smile.

  “Tribe of Three,” Tod replied, and she hurried away, preoccupied.

  Before she had become Septimus’s Apprentice, Tod, Ferdie and Oskar had made a pact that the Tribe of Three came before everything. But Tod’s life wasn’t so simple anymore—she had loyalties to Septimus and the Wizard Tower now too. As Tod drew nearer to the Wizard Tower she found herself envying Ferdie with her more straightforward choices. But what was really bothering Tod was the thought of telling Septimus that not only had she lost Kaznim—and with her their precious clue to the whereabouts of the Orm Egg—but she had also lost his jinnee. In fact, she had single-handedly ruined any chance they had of finding the Orm Egg.