SandRider by Angie Sage
“Look at me!” Oskar yelled. “Please, Ormie, please. Look at me!”
But the little Orm took no notice. It only had eyes for its mother—or the creature the Orm assumed to be its mother: the creature who had rescued it from the animal that had tried to eat it and the other animals that had chased it. The little Orm gazed into the eyes of Spit Fyre and Imprinted the dragon deep into its flat little reptile brain. It loved Spit Fyre forever. And then, realizing that one of the animals that had chased it was still holding on to it, it turned around and spat at it.
The Orm spit stung viciously. Oskar’s hands flew up to his face and he fell.
Ferdie screamed.
Human-Imprinted dragons like Spit Fyre have a reflex called Rider Retrieve. Even though Oskar had merely hitched a ride on another passenger, the reflex kicked in. As Oskar plummeted to the ground, the dragon fell even faster. The split second before Oskar would have hit the ground, Spit Fyre let go of the Orm—which was perfectly capable of flying for itself—grabbed Oskar and took him up into the air.
Spit Fyre landed a shocked Oskar gently beside the fire and then flew off to catch the Orm. He plucked the tiny, spiky, gritty creature out of the air and, watched by all below—bar Oraton-Marr—Spit Fyre flew up and over the top of the long dune.
And then the sky was empty. Dragon and Orm were gone.
A LINE IN THE SAND
Back at the fire beside the pool, Tod and Ferdie stood staring into the sky, hoping that the dragon might come back. Oskar, stunned from his fall, lay beside the pool with his hands over his eyes. He was bereft: he had lost his Orm.
Tod, however, felt relieved. She may not have been about to return to Septimus in triumph with the Orm, but Bubba was alive and the sorcerer had not gotten the Orm either. It could, she told herself, have been a lot worse. As she squinted up into the blue of the sky, out of the corner of her eye Tod saw a small figure in red approaching. Kaznim came hesitantly, nervously even, and when she reached Tod she kneeled on the sand before her. “I betrayed you,” she said. “I beg your forgiveness.”
Tod felt embarrassed. No one had ever kneeled to her before. “Oh! Um . . . well, that’s okay,” Tod mumbled. “I understand why you did it. Please, please get up.” And she pulled Kaznim to her feet.
Karamander joined them. “I wish to thank you all,” she said. “Kaznim has told me what you did for her. My tent is your tent. Please come inside and rest.” A sudden bellow from the camel interrupted her. “Excuse me for a moment,” Karamander murmured. “My Apprentice needs some help.”
The Tribe of Three watched Karamander and Kaznim help Mysor despatch their unwelcome guests. The Egg Boy was sent to look for Aunt Mitza, who had disappeared. The Lady was heaved onto the camel, and the unconscious Oraton-Marr, still clutching the Orm tail, was slung over the donkey with a distinct lack of respect. Suddenly Oskar was on his feet and staggering away, heading for the donkey. Unsure of what harebrained plan Oskar might have now, Ferdie went after her twin.
Tod was watching Ferdie arguing with Oskar when a low, malevolent voice came from behind her. Tod swung around and found herself face-to-face with Aunt Mitza.
“Alice,” said Aunt Mitza. “We do bump into each other at the strangest of times, don’t we?”
Mitza reached out and placed a heavy hand on Tod’s shoulder. Tod swept it away as though swatting a fly. “Don’t touch me!” she growled.
“All right, I won’t.” Aunt Mitza chuckled. It seemed to Tod that she was laughing at a private joke. “Just like I never touched your mother,” she said.
“What do you mean . . . my mother?”
Aunt Mitza was enjoying the effect she was having. “I mean the dear, saintly, beautiful Cassandra who everyone loved, especially my Dan.”
“Your Dan?” Tod asked, puzzled.
Aunt Mitza leaned in so close to Tod’s face that she could smell fish on her step-aunt’s breath. “Your father. He was meant for me. Not her. She always took everything I wanted. Everything.” Aunt Mitza spat on the sand. She gave Tod a cold smile. “You want to watch out for sand flies, you know. There are some very nasty ones about. Very nasty indeed.”
Tod was too shocked to speak. She watched Aunt Mitza walk away, her broad back impervious to anything she might wish to hurl at her. Tod was still watching when Ferdie brought Oskar back. Oskar was clutching the Orm’s tail. “Oraton-Marr is disgusting,” Oskar was saying angrily. “He hurt a defenseless little Orm.”
Ferdie looked at Oskar’s singed eyebrows and the livid streak of red down his cheek where the Orm spit had burned him. “Not entirely defenseless, Oskie,” she said.
They watched Oraton-Marr’s entourage trail away up the dune. Tod stared long and hard at Aunt Mitza as she plodded wearily up the slope behind the camel. She could not get her step-aunt’s words out of her head. Tod was not sure of their exact meaning, but she was sure of one thing: they were laden with hate. There was no doubt about it—whatever Aunt Mitza had meant, she had not meant well.
NEW FAMILIES
Later in the morning Karamander Draa emerged from her tent after settling a disturbed Bubba down to sleep. She surveyed the group of young ones—Mysor, Tod, Ferdie, Oskar and Kaznim—who were playing a game in the sand involving twelve scooped-out dips and numerous pebbles, which Kaznim called “Village Chief.” It was causing much laughter and noise. Karamander smiled. She enjoyed the company of the young.
But Karamander was worried. The three children from the Land of the Castle were confident of getting home, but she knew it was not as simple as they thought. As soon as they stepped inside the Red City, they would be in grave danger. Karamander had seen Oraton-Marr’s entourage change direction at the top of the long dune and she knew they were now heading not for the port but for the Red City. She suspected that as soon as they reached it, the sorcerer’s minions would scuttle off to the Queen and seek revenge. Karamander knew that revenge was something the Red Queen understood very well.
Karamander watched Mysor laughing as he scooped up the last of the pebbles. She would let them have their fun for now, but she must plan what to do. The Castle children were not safe with her, but where could they go? The weary Apothecary retreated into the cool of her tent to think—and fell into a deep sleep.
She was awoken by screams.
Karamander leaped from her chair. Dreading what she would find, she threw back the door flap. She stared for some seconds, trying to make sense of the scene before her. There was a dragon. There was a tailless Orm running around, snapping at everyone’s ankles and a small boy with short fair tousled hair standing apart from the group, gazing at the tent with an expression of wonder. The rest of the young ones were bouncing up and down as though they were on springs—apart from Mysor, who was too cool to bounce. In the middle of the melee were three travel-stained young men and . . . No, it couldn’t be.
But it was.
Karamander steadied herself. She had told Kaznim to make things right with Tod, and now it was her turn to do the same. Unnoticed by all, Karamander walked slowly across the sand. She reached the strangers and took a deep breath. “Dandra Draa,” she said.
Dandra turned and bowed her head briefly. “Karamander Draa,” she returned.
Karamander began to kneel, but Dandra caught hold of her hands and stopped her.
“Forgive me,” Karamander said.
“Forgive me,” replied Dandra.
There was silence and then Dandra said, “Your daughter Kaznim. I, er . . . I have something that belongs to her.” And from a sling beneath her robes, Dandra brought out the tortoise.
Karamander smiled. All was indeed forgiven.
“So this is where you got to,” Septimus was saying to Tod. “I suppose I shall have to get used to my PathFinder Apprentice turning up in strange places.”
Tod looked sheepish. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought it was the best hope of getting the Orm. But it didn’t work quite as I planned.”
Septimus smiled. “You will find t
Tod felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She realized how worried she had been about doing the wrong thing and disappointing Septimus, but now she understood. She could be an Apprentice and be herself too—and he thought she was brave.
“So, it’s all worked out pretty well, don’t you think?” Septimus was saying.
Tod smiled. She thought it had worked out very well indeed.
Karamander plied her guests with a feast. As they sat inside the dim coolness of the tent escaping the fierce heat of the midday sun, Septimus, Beetle, Marwick and Dandra discussed the journey home. Dandra did not think it wise to wait until nightfall. “The Red Queen has spies at the Port of the Singing Sands,” she said. “We must get there before they are alerted.”
“Rest and eat first,” Karamander told them. “There is time to do both.”
Outside the tent, Spit Fyre and his new baby kept watch. The Orm—or the Ormlet, as people were now calling it after Tod made a lame joke about breaking eggs—kept glancing up at Mother Orm. Every now and then Spit Fyre gave the tail stub of the Orm a rasping lick. Already a new barb was forming and it would not be long until a fresh tail would begin to grow.
Leaving the older ones to talk, the younger ones drifted outside and went to dabble their toes in the cool spring that bubbled up beside the flat rock. With them was Darius Wrenn, pink from the sun, his eyes shining with excitement. “You look a bit different from the last time I saw you,” Tod said, remembering the worried, pale boy who blinked a lot.
“Marwick made them let me come too,” Darius said shyly. “He said I could carry the water bottles and help him read the map and make myself useful. And I did.” He watched his feet in the green of the water and then said very quietly, “I love it here.”
“So do I,” Kaznim said. She smiled at Darius. “Do you want to play Village Chief?”
Darius blinked in surprise. “Play what?”
“It’s fun. I’ll show you.” As Kaznim began to scoop out hollows in the sand, Tod got up and left them to it. She walked back to the star-strewn tent, feeling a little nervous. There was something important that she wanted to ask Beetle and Karamander Draa.
It was hard to leave when the time came. In the midst of the partings and the promises to meet again, the small figure of Darius Wrenn stood wide-eyed as ever, too excited to speak. One of the people in the amazing ExtraOrdinary Apprentice Spell—he thought it was probably the one named Tod—had done something wonderful. She had gone into the tent in that confident way that he wanted to have one day, and then, she had emerged with Beetle and the Apothecary. Darius had watched them walk around the outside of the tent and had heard the murmur of them talking. And then the Apothecary had come over and she had asked him to be her Apprentice. And to live in the tent with her and her daughters, just like a real family. Darius still could not believe it. And what had surprised him almost as much was that Beetle had said that he would really miss Darius and that he would be very welcome if he ever wanted to return to the Manuscriptorium.
But Darius didn’t think he ever would.
That afternoon, Tod and Oskar became SandRiders once again. They took the Wiz and Beetle back to the Port of the Singing Sands. With no fear of sand lions or a missed Egg-hatching, it was a thrilling ride. Above them flew Spit Fyre, ferrying Beetle and Marwick to the Port of the Singing Sands.
As the sun began to sink over the sea, Marwick, Tod, Beetle, Ferdie and Oskar met up outside the Hidden arch. Led by Tod and Marwick, they entered the Ancient Ways. They walked through nine Hubs until at last they found themselves behind the Manuscriptorium door, which was quickly opened by the faithful Ephaniah Grebe. He had not left his post for a second.
Back at the star-strewn tent, Septimus was saying his farewells. His hand held tightly by Karamander Draa, Darius Wrenn watched the ExtraOrdinary Wizard climb onto his dragon, shift the baby Orm out of the way, get nipped on the arm for his trouble and then lift off into the starlit sky. Surrounded by his new family, the small boy watched the beautiful green dragon wheel around and set off into the night. Darius looked up at Karamander and smiled. His new life was about to begin.
It would be a long flight home, but Septimus did not mind at all. His Apprentice had done well, the Castle was safe and, best of all, he had his dragon back. Septimus didn’t even mind that he was going to have to share Spit Fyre with a jealous little Ormlet, who possessed very sharp teeth—ouch—and was not afraid to use them.
The next morning at the Castle, Tod, Oskar and Ferdie were waiting in the courtyard of the Wizard Tower, at the front of the huge welcoming party for Septimus, Spit Fyre and his baby Orm. As they saw a distant sparkle of green appear over the snowy treetops of the Forest, a hush fell over the whole Castle. Word had spread that the ExtraOrdinary Wizard was bringing his dragon home at last and people had gathered on the rooftops, watching for the return of what they thought of as their dragon too. As the impressive sight of the ExtraOrdinary Wizard flying his dragon drew close, a ripple of applause began to spread, until a tumult of clapping filled the air.
Spit Fyre landed expertly in the courtyard to the background of cheers and whistles of encouragement. Septimus leaped down from the pilot seat and, curled around the dragon spine behind him, Tod saw a twist of blue—the sleeping baby Orm.
Septimus gave Jenna a quick hug and hurried straight over to Tod, Oskar and Ferdie. “We did it!” he said. “Thanks to you three, we have the Orm. Our Castle is safe.”
Tod exchanged smiles with Ferdie and Oskar. They knew that from now on it would always be “our Castle.”
BACK AD
ABOUT THE AUTHOR AND ILLUSTRATOR
ANGIE SAGE was born in London and grew up in the Thames Valley, London, and Kent. She now lives in Somerset in a very old house that has a 480-year-old painting of King Henry VIII on the wall. The seven books in her original Septimus Heap series are international bestsellers. She is also the author of the Araminta Spookie series. Visit her online at www.septimusheapblog.com or follow @AngieSageAuthor on Twitter.
MARK ZUG has illustrated many collectible card games, including Magic: The Gathering and Dune, as well as books and magazines. He lives in Pennsylvania. You can visit him online at www.markzug.com.
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BOOKS BY ANGIE SAGE
TodHunter Moon, Book One: PathFinder
Septimus Heap, Book One: Magyk
Septimus Heap, Book Two: Flyte
Septimus Heap, Book Three: Physik
Septimus Heap, Book Four: Queste
Septimus Heap, Book Five: Syren
Septimus Heap, Book Six: Darke
Septimus Heap, Book Seven: Fyre
Septimus Heap: The Darke Toad
Septimus Heap: The Magykal Papers
Araminta Spookie: My Haunted House
Araminta Spookie: The Sword in the Grotto
Araminta Spookie: Frognapped
Araminta Spookie: Vampire Brat
Araminta Spookie: Ghostsitters
CREDITS
Cover art © 2015 by Mark Zug
Cover design by Joel Tippie
COPYRIGHT
Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
Septimus Heap is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers.
TODHUNTER MOON, BOOK TWO: SANDRIDER. Text copyright © 2015 by Angie Sage. Interior art copyright © 2015 by Mark Zug. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Sage, Angie.
SandRider / Angie Sage ; illustrations by Mark Zug. — First edition.
pages cm. — (TodHunter Moon ; book 2)
Summary: “Alice TodHunter Moon, now apprentice to the ExtraOrdinary Wizard Septimus Heap, must locate the Egg of the Orm—a source of great Magyk—before the baby Orm hatches and imprints on the evil sorcerer Oraton-Marr”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-06-227248-5 (hardback)
ISBN 978-0-06-241519-6 (international edition)
EPub Edition © September 2015 ISBN 9780062272508
[1. Wizards—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. Apprentices—Fiction. 4. Imaginary creatures—Fiction. 5. Fantasy.] I. Zug, Mark, illustrator. II. Title.
PZ7.S13035San 2015 2015005851
[Fic]—dc23 CIP
AC
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15 16 17 18 19 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
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