SandRider by Angie Sage
Above the quarry, through the bare boughs of the tallest tree—which Tod guessed to be the Guardian Ash—she saw the white gleam of a full moon. The Hum began once more, growing louder and faster as though to speed the moon upward and send her clear of its fine dark tracery of branches.
Star and Ariel looked at each other, aghast. The coven was about to burn two kids from the Castle. What would the Queen have to say about that? It would be good-bye to their free food at Wizard Sandwiches for sure. As the remorseless hum of the Witch Circle continued, Ariel slipped from the Circle and vanished into the shadows.
MARISSA IN THE GULLEY
Marissa stumbled along, muttering the rudest words she could think of—she had a fine collection and many to choose from. Marissa could not believe how fast things could go wrong. She had gone to all the trouble of fixing a very successful OverRide and getting the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice into the Forest only to have two stupid kids on a sled get in the way. As she had raced after the Apprentice she had tripped over a branch and lost her FleetFoot and now the sled was too far ahead for her to get to it before it got to the coven’s quarry. The Witch Mother would have her fat claws on the Apprentice by now. She was in big trouble. Cursing her bad luck, Marissa hobbled along as fast as she could, a stitch nagging at her side, the cold air making her wheeze and her twisted ankle jabbing at her.
Marissa had not wanted to involve the Witch Mother in her Apprentice snatch, but Morwenna Mould had found out and insisted on being in on the deal. Marissa had had no choice but to agree to send Tod to the quarry. However, she had not intended for Tod to actually get there. She had planned to catch her up with her FleetFoot and divert her out of the gulley well before she reached the coven. Marissa figured that by the time the Witch Mother realized what had happened, she and Tod would be far away.
But now, Marissa thought bitterly, everything was ruined. Morwenna Mould had her prize and all the power the sorcerer had promised her would go to that pig of a Witch Mother. It was so unfair. Marissa stomped angrily along the gulley, but when she came to the gap through which she had planned to take Tod, she stopped. Maybe, she thought, all was not lost. She could still go to the midnight meeting with the sorcerer, she just wouldn’t have the Apprentice with her. But that didn’t have to be a disaster. In fact, thought Marissa, things could turn out even better than she had planned.
Marissa smiled. She knew exactly what she would do. She would tell the sorcerer that she had been double-crossed. She would say that Morwenna Mould had kidnapped the Apprentice and planned to use her for her own benefit. She would fix it so that the sorcerer saw the Witch Mother as a dangerous adversary who must be vanquished at once. Marissa smiled. Yes, she could see it now . . . marching into the Winter Circle with the powerful sorcerer at her side . . . a quick ThunderFlash aimed at the Witch Mother . . . maybe a Darke Dart . . . or both. Both, thought Marissa. It served the old cow right. And when it had worked, when the fat old carcass of Morwenna Mould was lying on the ground having done all the nasty stuff it was ever going to do, then she, Marissa Janice Lane, would proclaim herself Witch Mother and that would be that. No one would dare oppose her with Oraton-Marr at her side. That would pay old Moldy Face back for all those nights she had spent scrubbing the burned wolverine stew off the bottom of the cooking pot. Marissa broke into a broad smile. She knew she could persuade the sorcerer to do as she wished—men usually did what she wanted.
Marissa slipped through a gap in the rock hidden by snow-covered ivy and in seconds was hurrying along the steep footpath that would take her around the top of the quarry and on the long journey to her meeting with the sorcerer. She wrapped her witch cloak around her for protection, trusting that she would not meet a pack of wolverines. That, thought Marissa, would be just her luck.
THE QUEEN’S SPY
As the moon moved slowly up through the outer tracery of the top of the Guardian Ash, Jenna was climbing the ladder to Galen’s treehouse, watched by the bright yellow eyes of a tiger hidden in the undergrowth. Jenna had released Jim Knee and told him to return to the Castle, but on principle the jinnee did not obey the command at once. He liked to retain the illusion of free will. And besides, though he would not admit it to himself, he wanted to see the Queen safely up in the treehouse, away from the nighttime danger that always lurked on the Forest floor.
Galen’s treehouse was a complex affair consisting of many platforms, pods, linking ladders and ropes spread across three ancient oaks. As Jenna stopped on the first landing and reached up to pull a vine to signal her arrival, she heard a sharp hiss from the Forest floor. She looked down to see Ariel’s anxious face looking up at her.
“Queen Jenna,” Ariel said, all in a rush, “you have to come! Something awful is going to happen in the Witch Circle.”
Jenna had little interest in what was happening in the Witch Circle and absolutely no wish to go back into the nighttime Forest. From what she had heard from Ariel and Star in the past few months, she understood that awful things often happened in the Circle. The less she knew about them, the better, Jenna thought. “It’s none of my business,” she said briskly, and went to pull the vine.
“But it is your business,” Ariel insisted. “They’re going to burn two Castle kids.”
Jenna’s hand froze in midair. “What?” she whispered.
“Please, Queen Jenna,” said Ariel. “Come now. There isn’t much time.”
THE MOON OVER THE ASH
The moon broke free from the last tracery of the Guardian Ash. All witches’ eyes were upon the Snow Sprites, who, now that all their snow had melted, looked worryingly like real children. But not one of the witches said a word—some because they dared not and many because they didn’t care. They were having a great night, so why spoil it?
Star glanced anxiously up at the small gap in the trees where the path ran down to the quarry, but she saw nothing. Around her the sprite chant grew ever louder:
Sprites burn bright!
Light the night!
Light the night!
Sprites burn bright!
Tod had managed to sneak a Charm from her Apprentice belt and she was now clasping a tiny silver snail shell. This was for an UnSeen that gave her the highest protection possible from harm—and Tod reckoned she needed all the protection she could get. Silently, she began the Incantation and to her relief, Morwenna—despite her heavy hand resting on Tod’s shoulder—did not notice, for Tod’s substance was unchanged. Many of the witches saw the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice slowly disappear, but not one dared mention it. Some actually felt relieved—at least one of the children might survive the night.
Ferdie and Oskar, still under the fearsome Grasps of Bryony and Madron, were mercifully unaware of what was in store. As the two witches slowly walked Ferdie and Oskar toward the fire, Tod carefully lifted Morwenna’s hand from her shoulder and stepped out of her reach. The Witch Mother, enthralled by the chant and the sheer excitement of the moment, did not notice.
As Bryony and Madron propelled Ferdie and Oskar nearer to the flames, within her UnSeen, Tod was so close that she could have reached out and touched them. The chanting was drawing toward a crescendo and Tod knew there would come a moment when the two witches must release Oskar and Ferdie from their Grasps in order to hurl them into the flames, and at that point she would have to act with lightning speed. Stealthily as Jim Knee himself, Tod padded beside Oskar and Ferdie, matching them step for step, waiting to pounce.
All eyes in the quarry were on the witches and their victims as they creeped ever closer toward the fire. Tod’s gaze did not leave Ferdie and Oskar for one second. By now they were so close to the fire that the heat was searing. Tod braced herself. Any moment now, she told herself. Any . . . moment . . .
It happened fast. In a sudden, synchronized movement, Bryony and Madron released their Grasps.
Ferdie and Oskar saw the flames. They screamed.
Tod pounced. She pulled them back from the fire, yelling, “It’s me, Tod! Run! Run!” B
But they were not free yet. The Witch Circle had closed ranks. The Tribe of Three were now surrounded by a steely necklace of blue witchy eyes.
“Rush them!” yelled Tod.
The Witch Circle joined arms like a chain-link fence and began a strangely pulsing Hum: thrummer-thrum-thrum, thrummer-thrum-thrum, spinning a web around them, making them dizzy. Ferdie and Oskar stopped at the witch fence, bewildered, like sheep reaching the boundary of their pen. They turned to Tod just in time to see her UnSeen slowly leave her.
Morwenna Mould’s deep laugh cut through the Hum. “Ha! I see the Sprites have some spirit!” she said. “And I see the Apprentice has too. Well, well, let us have some fun with them, let us see them really run.” The Witch Mother walked over to the fire and drew out a burning branch. “They will run fast with this behind them!”
A brave, lone shout came from the Circle. “Witch Mother! The Apprentice is meant for the sorcerer!”
“And he can have her—when we are done with her—and some nice, toasty sprite bones as an extra gift.”
With the burning branch in her hand, the Witch Mother walked very slowly toward Tod, Oskar and Ferdie, enjoying her power.
“I’m sorry,” Tod said.
“What for?” asked Ferdie.
“Because I should do something. But I don’t know what.”
“Scream?” Ferdie suggested.
And so they did—all three together.
The Witch Circle laughed and screamed back. Once again, the Scream of the Wendron Witch coven rang throughout the Forest.
THE TIGER, THE WITCH AND THE RED ROBE
Jenna, Jim Knee and Ariel were heading for the path that led down to the quarry, when the Scream began. It drifted up, eerie and piercing, and caused a fluttering of night owls rising from the trees in panic. Ariel’s hearing was acute, she had already heard the brief screams of Ferdie, Oskar and Tod and she suspected that the witch Scream was being used to cover up the sound of genuine screams, which did sometimes upset the more sensitive witches. Ariel feared it would all be over by the time they arrived at the Circle, but she dared not tell Jenna that.
Ariel glanced around to check that the Queen and her tiger were still following. Jenna saw the fear in the young witch’s eyes and felt sick. The path wound endlessly ahead and she knew that at the end of it they had to scramble down the steep, rocky path into the quarry. There was no time left.
“Ariel, stop!” Jenna called.
Ariel swung around and looked at the Queen. So she, too, knew it was all over. “I . . . I am so, so sorry—” Ariel began, but Jenna cut her off.
“I shall send my jinnee,” she said.
Ariel looked blank.
“The tiger. He’s a jinnee.”
Ariel’s eyes widened in surprise. This Queen was worth keeping on the right side of. “Oh,” she said. “Yes, I knew that.”
“You know the way. Show him. You will be faster than I. If the Castle kids need any help you must give it. And I don’t care what you have to do, okay?”
Ariel nodded.
Jenna kneeled down beside the tiger and searched for a hint of understanding in its yellow eyes. She saw none, but she knew she must assume the best. “Jim Knee,” Jenna said. “I command you to follow Ariel with all speed. She will show you the way to the Witch’s Quarry. Go as fast as you can. You will find Castle children there. I command you to bring them to me safe and well.” Jenna stood up. “Go!”
Jenna watched the tiger bounding after the young witch, who glanced behind her and looked, not surprisingly, a little anxious.
Tod, Ferdie and Oskar had linked arms and were facing the witches. Like an ever-tightening noose, the Witch Circle was closing in, pushing the Tribe of Three back toward the flames. The hypnotic pulse of the Hum made each step toward the heat of the fire feel oddly unreal.
Suddenly the voice of Morwenna hissed in Tod’s ear, sharp against the blur of the Hum. “You’re a little fool,” she said. “You should know better than to ally yourself to two sprites. If it wasn’t for the sorcerer I would throw you in as well.” Tod looked up and saw a flicker of enjoyment cross the Witch Mother’s face, and she understood that the witches were playing with them in the way a cat plays with a mouse. A wave of anger replaced the fear and Tod swung around and landed a wild punch somewhere in the middle of the vast softness beneath Morwenna’s thick green cloak. Morwenna reeled backward, the Hum turned to a gasp and the two nearest witches broke the circle to catch their Witch Mother before she fell to the ground. They were a fraction too late and Morwenna’s bulk brought them crashing down with her.
The Circle was broken and with it the power it was casting over the witches. Many began to realize the enormity of what they had been about to do. Some hugged each other in dismay and others stood with their hands over their faces, staring at the fire through their fingers.
As Tod, Ferdie and Oskar made a dash for the break in the circle, Morwenna Mould’s voice echoed around the quarry: “Stop them! Stop them!” But no one rushed to obey. The three reached the gap and as two of the older witches made a halfhearted move to grab them, a tiger leaped out of nowhere. It stood snarling, its teeth bared, its yellow eyes glittering in the light of the fire, daring anyone to move.
Under the shocked gaze of the Wendron Witch Coven, the tiger escorted the two Snow Sprites and the Apprentice away from the circle. Not one witch raised so much as a finger. Even when a cry of “I said stop them, you fools!” came from their beached Witch Mother, no one moved. Silently the broken Witch Circle watched the tiger escort their three ex-captives across the quarry floor. They had just reached the gap in the rock where the path led up to the Forest when the Apprentice turned and ran back. The two Snow Sprites tried to stop her but she ignored them.
The witches shrank back. What Darke Magyk was the Apprentice about to visit upon them? Even the Witch Mother, who was now back on her feet and propped up by Bryony and Madron, did no more than watch warily. But all the Apprentice did was pick up the ropes of the two sleds, then turn and walk away, pulling the sleds behind her.
As she headed toward the waiting tiger that was guarding her friends, Tod felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck—she was being followed. Tod had a small Celebrate Charm in her Apprentice belt. Septimus had given it to her that morning. It was, he had insisted, to be used only if she won the race. But Tod hoped Septimus would understand her disobedience. Suddenly, she swung around to face the Coven. It was just like Grandmother’s Footsteps. The witches who had been rapidly creeping up behind her froze. With one fluid movement, Tod took the Charm from her belt and threw it up into the air, calling out the Incantation as she did so: “To the Victor, the Spoils!”
The Charm exploded into sparks, prickling and crackling red and green in the night air. It was beautiful, but to the witches, who had no idea what it was, it was terrifying. Overexcited by too much Screaming and the prospect of a sprite-burning, the witches scattered with shrieks of fear.
Morwenna Mould knew she was defeated. Left virtually alone in the Quarry—apart from Bryony, Madron and a few of the older witches too creaky to run very fast, the Witch Mother watched her prey disappear into the gap between the rocks where the path led up into the Forest. Even if she had wanted to, there was no way Morwenna could follow them—she could no longer fit.
Morwenna spat on the ground in disgust. She was sure she knew who was behind this—the double-crossing, two-timing little trollop Marissa. Marissa would be sorry, she would make sure of that. And then, as Morwenna Mould stood fuming, a flash of gold in the trees at the top of the path caught her eye. She looked up and saw the distinctive red of the cloak of the Castle Queen, A surge of fury ran through her.
“Queen Jenna!” the Witch Mother yelled, her deep voice echoing around the quarry. “You will regret this. When you have a daughter I will come for
Jenna looked down at the furious figure below, its squat shape silhouetted against the firelight. “You take on a Castle Queen at your peril, Morwenna Mould,” she muttered. Then, with the tiger at her side and her two witches on guard behind her, Jenna led Tod, Ferdie and Oskar through the nighttime Forest to the safety of Galen’s treehouse.
PART VIII
THIRTY-FOUR HOURS TO HATCHING
GALEN’S TREEHOUSE
Many years ago Galen had taught the teenage Sarah Heap all that she knew about herbs and healing. Now Galen was elderly and frail and living an increasingly precarious life in her Forest treehouse. Sarah Heap worried about her much-loved old mentor and had decided to spend the winter looking after her, which was why Silas Heap, unwilling to let his wife brave the Forest on her own, had found himself spending an uncomfortable and boring winter up a tree eating what he described as “rabbit food.”
But that evening Silas was—as Sarah pointed out—smiling for a change. He had his daughter with him (who had arrived with two very pretty young witches) and he had just learned the wonderful news that his son Sam was back home. Both Silas and Sarah had feared they would never see Sam again. Even though Silas could tell from Jenna’s careful answers to Sarah’s questions that Sam had been injured, he had great faith in the talents of Dandra Draa and her Sick Bay team. Just to know for the first time in four long years where Sam actually was that night was a tremendous relief to Silas. The icing on the cake was that tomorrow he and Sarah had a perfectly acceptable excuse to leave this cold, nut-strewn, shrew-infested treehouse and return to civilization. Even the shirt woven from smelly, unbelievably scratchy goat hair that Galen had given him for a MidWinter Feast Day present (and that Sarah made him wear so as not to hurt Galen’s feelings) no longer itched quite so badly that night.