Josh and the Magic Vial (32 page)

“Gravity? I don't understand,” she said.

“If I materialize in Syde, there's a good chance I would be captured; and if I am captured, a very strong force would be added to the locus of energy imprisoning them there. Even if they were not consciously aware ofmy plight — and you know Vortigen would do everything in his power to make them aware — subconsciously they would sense my presence and that would pull them farther into Vortigen's orbit. Much as I would like to do the heroic thing and join them, I must obey the edicts of wisdom. My place is here, in this dimension.”

“What you say is true,” Endorathlil said sourly. “And that means I have worsened their plight incalculably by sending Millie and Ian into Syde. The ‘locus of energy'— as you call it — has been augmented greatly by having the three friends together.”

“True,” Puddifant agreed. “On the other hand Millie and Ian have accomplished what no one else could have. They have broken through Vortigen's illusions and awakened Josh to his true nature. They could not have done that from here. Without their intervention, Josh would have been lost.” He filled in the details of Millie and Ian's encounter with Josh in the Grand Procession.

“How can you know these things without being there?” Endorathlil demanded. “I have strained to see what's going on in Syde, but can only catch fleeting and distorted images.”

“I am pure spirit, Lillian,” he reminded her. “And I have formed a pact with the children. That bond lets me see more clearly the things they are experiencing.”

“And can you communicate with them?”

“I can manifest myself as a thought without actually going to Syde. Even that poses a risk, however, for Vortigen can detect the subtlest changes in the psychic environment and use those clues to home in on his prey. The risk must be taken sparingly.”

“And what can I do through all this?”

“You must keep calling so Millie and Ian can follow your voice back home. And you can help Josh with your knowledge of
The Book
. Send him that knowledge, even when you think he can't hear.”

“Is there something in particular the boy needs to know?”

Puddifant stroked his beard thoughtfully. “My understanding of Sydean script is rudimentary and the book is large. I could not find in all its pages any incantation or rite that would grant someone release from Syde.”

“That's because no such rite exists,” Endorathlil said summarily.

“Nothing?”

She pondered a while, and then her eyes brightened. “There is one passage that comes close to what you are seeking. It's called the
Song of Emancipation
, but to my knowledge it has never been used and I cannot see how Josh would be able to make any use of it.”

“Why has it not been used?” Puddifant asked eagerly.

“Because it does not offer an assurance of freedom. The song forces Vortigen to listen to a supplicant's plea, but it does not bind him to grant the request. What's worse, it is extremely displeasing to Vortigen's ear — almost a form of torture . . . ”

“So the upshot is, once the supplicant has made his plea and failed, Vortigen's ire is raised against him,” Puddifant deduced.

“Yes,” Endorathlil confirmed. “It is assumed the only possible outcome from a resort to this chant would be expulsion to Desolation Isle, the horrid place where Vortigen condemns those who have angered him.”

“Is there anything else about the
Song of Emancipation
you can tell me?”

“There is one more thing,” she answered. “Vortigen is forced by Ancient Law to listen as long as the supplicant is able to sing. He cannot deny the request or punish the supplicant until the supplicant stops singing.”

“So the supplicant can sing the song over and over?”

“Until he is exhausted,” she said. “And by that time he would have enraged Vortigen to an extent unimaginable. I hate to think the kind of retribution he would face.”

“Can you teach me this song?” Puddifant asked.

“Yes,” she said doubtfully. “Do you intend to communicate it to the boy.”

“I do.”

“Despite my warnings?”

“As a last resort, it might be needed. I cannot say.”

Endorathlil winced. “I will look up the incantation, but as a last resort Josh would do better to submit to Vortigen,” she said darkly. “Is there any other way I can help you?”

Puddifant smiled. “You can remember who you are, Lillian. You can become the little girl, who loves and wants to use her magic only for good. And most importantly, you can continue calling out to Millie and Ian. They must return through the portal you opened. There is no other way for them.”

She nodded grimly. “I shall not rest until they are safely home,” Endorathlil vowed.

59

J
osh's eyes blinked open. He'd fallen into a fitful sleep, having thrown himself upon his bed after shunning his royal robes. He had been troubled by dreams. First, Puddifant had come to him as a disembodied voice chanting a strange song. Then he found himself back in the Grand Procession, reliving his disgrace.

He blushed, remembering Millie's outrage. Jumping up from his bed, Josh paced. He looked out the window beyond the rim of Ormor into the Sydean lowlands. A few hours earlier he'd thought himself co-ruler of all he saw; now he shook his head and moaned, a pampered prisoner. How could he have betrayed his friends? How could he have forgotten his parents? That Vortigen had tricked him seemed no excuse. “I allowed myself to be tricked,” he muttered accusingly.

“You underestimate your enemy, which is the same thing as overestimating yourself.”

“Inspector!” Josh cried, rejoicing, even though his cheeks blazed with shame. “Where are you? Look at the trouble I've got myself into!” He glanced around the room, hoping to find Puddifant perched on the elaborate canopy over his bed or seated on the windowsill. But his friend did not appear.

“Where are you?” Josh called out again in desperation.

“Calm yourself,” the voice chided, and this time Josh recognized it as his own impetuous thoughts tempered by everything Puddifant's had taught him during their sessions in the tree fort. He couldn't actually see the Inspector, or even hear him, really. Nonetheless, Horace Puddifant had joined him and Josh welcomed the guiding influence. “Think,” he told himself, imagining what Puddifant would do in the circumstances. “What do you know. Look at the facts of your case.”

“We have allies?” Josh said out loud. “Vortigen's enemies must be my friends.”

He'd heard of the rebels before, but only from Quiggle, and only in sketchy detail. During the Grand Procession, after he had talked to Millie and been pulled away in the Coach of State, he'd seen them in action. He caught glimpses of a striking young man who thrust Millie and Ian through the crowd, and a squadron of stout combatants battling Vortigen's minions with truncheons, sticks and bare hands.

“Rabble,” Vortigen had proclaimed as they rolled on, and Josh dared not say — or even think — anything different.

But now he vowed to find out more.

“How did Millie and Ian get into Syde?” he wondered. He couldn't think of an answer to that question, but Josh knew beyond doubt that his best friends were in mortal danger and that he had to go to their aid. If their spirits were in Syde, their physical bodies must be suspended in limbo on earth. He knew that. They would die if they didn't get home, and the chances of getting home seemed slim with all Vortigen's minions pursuing them. He wondered if Endorathlil had anything to do with their being in Syde, but considered that unlikely.

One thing was certain: they had come to help. And look how he had repaid them! Again his stomach twisted and his cheeks burned. Would Millie ever forgive him? And what about Ian? Would he be able to laugh off Josh's erratic behaviour? “Whether they do or not, I must help them escape,” Josh vowed.

“And to do that, you must forgive yourself.”

Vortigen had got the better of him with poisoned food and honeyed words. So be it. He'd come to his senses and now he would do what was right. He would join the fray and either save his friends or die trying.

But where could he begin? For the time being he determined to continue in the role of pampered heir. He would don his royal costume and haughty manners because that would give him the thing he needed most: the power to command. Reluctantly Josh pulled the cumbersome robe out of the inlaid box at the foot of his bed and draped it over his shoulders. He straightened the garment and patted it into shape. “There,” he said, examining himself in a mirror. “Now, pout like a spoiled child and the disguise will be perfect.”

“Where to from here, though?” he asked. The answer seemed clear. He had to discover what Vortigen knew, and what Vortigen was planning. “First, to the heart of the enemy's fortress; then to the aid of my friends,” Josh determined, bustling over to the door and yanking it open.

What he discovered on the other side made him stare in amazement!

“Quiggle!” Josh shouted at the figure frozen on the threshold. “What are you doing? Spying on me?”

“Spying? Me? Oh, my goodness, no. Not I! And on Vortigen's heir! No, no, no. I was simply trying to determine if his Most Eminent Lordship still napped. One wouldn't want to disturb the Sleep of State, eh?”

“Well, since you are here, perhaps you can help me,” Josh said doubtfully.

The valet looked up and down the hall, then back at Josh.

“If I can be of assistance sir, my paltry life — well, not life such as it is known in Outworld, but my paltry existence I suppose — is at your command,” he whispered “Good,” Josh said briskly. “I need to get to Vortigen's war room, my friend. Perhaps you can save me some time by leading the way.”

Quiggle cringed, but then steeled himself. “Come,” he said. “I shall take you where you want to go, but if you get me sent to Desolation Isle I shall never forgive you.”

Down, down they trooped, deeper into the labyrinth of the Emerald Palace.

“Well, Quiggle, I'm certainly glad you showed up,” Josh allowed. “I don't think I ever would have found my way without you.”

“Almost there sir,” the obliging valet hushed. “We must move on cat's paws and with our mouths tightly sealed if we want to avoid being challenged by Vortigen's Royal Guards.”

They crept into a gallery, looking down into a perfectly round chamber. Vortigen and his lieutenants were gathered at the edge of a large pool, which occupied the centre of the room. “That's the Seer's Pool,” Quiggle informed him. “Vortigen can spy on any quadrant of his kingdom in its waters.”

“Find them!” the Lord of Syde growled, thumping the arms of his throne in frustration. “I want every soldier engaged in the hunt, do you understand? Find them!”

“Yes, My Lord,” one of the commanders answered.

“They're looking for your friends, I'm afraid,” Quiggle reported.

“Why?” Josh wondered. “Why would Vortigen put so much energy into finding a couple of kids?”

“He cannot allow them to escape,” Quiggle explained. “They are friends. Their voices will have a memory of this place, and will find you from Outworld. They will be able to call you back, Josh. Vortigen will do anything to prevent them escaping.”

“Love?” Josh murmured. That was the bond Vortigen feared, and that was why music was banned from Syde — because songs were all about love.

He remembered Prince Bonniface's lecture to Gorp the Hurler:
We should punish these miserable creatures because they
threaten everything we hold most dear, and because they want
to impose their grim order on our world. For that I will kill if I
must and die, too, if God wills it.

Josh had not fully appreciated the warrior's words, daydreaming in his back yard that day — a day, which seemed eons ago. Fine sentiments had been easy then. But here, now, with his enemy no more than fifty paces away, plotting evil against his friends, he understood how hard it would be to “love thine enemy.”

He sought Puddifant's wisdom again. “Love's weakness is hatred; hatred's weakness, love. Anything Vortigen loves becomes a fault line in his empire of evil. The whole thing can crack and topple if love runs deep enough.”

“Are you saying . . . ” Josh had hesitated that day in the tree fort, recoiling from the absurd notion that had entered his head.

“Yes!” Puddifant had insisted firmly. “Vortigen loves you, my boy. His is a deformed love, to be sure, but it is love just the same. That is why he will fear you more than anyone.”

Josh shook himself free of these memories, watching the activities in Vortigen's war room. The Lord of Syde glared about at his retainers as if each and every one of them was responsible for frustrating his ambitions.

“He is in a dangerous mood,” Quiggle whispered. “I should not like to say anything irritating at this moment. No! I should keep clear of Lord Vortigen unless I had something positive to report.”

A sudden commotion fixed their attention back on the war room. A messenger clattered into the hall, still panting from his rush into the palace. “My Lord,” he spoke eagerly. “News!”

“What?” Vortigen shouted. “What is it?”

“We've had a report of two children staying at a house in Thimbleberry Lane, up near The Workings.”

“Yes? What else?”

“We raided the house, but found it had been abandoned. There were indications that Outworlders had indeed been there recently.”

“What indications, Captain?”

The man looked astonished.

“Get on with it,” Vortigen ordered in a bored tone. “You were a corporal a second ago, now you are a captain. Do you wish to complain?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Then tell me more. What indications were there of Outworlders in this house?”