Archibald Lox and the Forgotten Crypt Page 13

  Inez focuses on Hugo and the other three. “Ready?” she asks, and they nod. Inez puts her index fingers to her temples, then starts pulling faces similar to those she pulled on the bridge in London the first time I saw her, twitching her nose, squinting and widening her eyes, twisting her lips. Half a minute later the flesh of her forehead shimmers, and ripples of white light flicker through it. “You first,” she says to a woman called Maureen, one of the four due to hide inside her.

  “What do I do?” Maureen asks nervously.

  “Put your hand on my forehead,” Inez says, and Maureen follows orders.

  “Is this like scanning a barcode?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Inez says, as Maureen steps back and Hugo takes her place. “It lets me assign them to a specific zone, and easily extract them whenever I please.”

  “Did the idea for barcodes originate in the Merge, then?” I ask.

  “Of course,” Inez smirks. “Pretty much all their best ideas begin with us.”

  “The Born are catching us up,” a man called Hector laughs as he replaces Hugo.

  “But they’ve a way yet to go,” a woman called Elizabeth smiles as she steps forward to be scanned, the last of the four.

  “Right,” Inez says, pulling more faces. The light in her forehead fades and she undoes the lower buttons of her shirt to reveal her stomach. She runs an index finger round her belly button five times, then covers it with her hands. When she slowly pulls the hands away, a yellow halo of light is revealed, which widens the further apart she stretches her hands.

  “Try that,” she says to Maureen, and the woman approaches cautiously.

  “It doesn’t look wide enough,” Maureen says, staring at the light.

  Inez moves her hands further apart. “Now?”

  Maureen gulps. “Are you sure this is safe?”

  “Let me go first,” Hugo says, smiling at Maureen.

  “Thanks,” Maureen says, stepping aside.

  Hugo hurls himself forward and vanishes into the light.

  “You next,” Inez says to Maureen.

  “Is it a soft landing?” Maureen asks.

  “Like falling into a bath of feathers,” Inez grins.

  Maureen still looks uncertain, but then Olivia steps forward. “Is there a problem?” the captain growls.

  “No,” Maureen says. “I’m just...”

  “You’re worried about the unknown,” Olivia says understandingly. “You haven’t done this before and it scares you.”

  “Yes,” Maureen says.

  “There’s no room for fear in my team,” Olivia says softly but sternly. “This is the first time in hundreds of years that we’ll be facing teams from the other realms. There’s no telling what tricks they’ll have up their sleeves. We have to be ready for the unknown. More than that, we have to embrace it. If you can’t, this is the time to make your excuses and return to Sapphire.”

  Maureen stares at Olivia, her face whitening. Then she scowls. “You’re right. I’m acting like a coward. I won’t do it again.”

  Then, to a cheer from her teammates, she throws herself forward and disappears into the light. Hector and Elizabeth quickly follow suit, then Inez brings her hands together and pulls one last set of faces. As the light fades, she runs her index finger round her belly button again, but in the opposite direction this time, and when that’s done, she buttons up her shirt and smiles briefly at the spectators.

  “All done,” she says.

  Everyone disperses, spreading back out between the six boats. I stay with Inez, mulling over what I’ve seen.

  “When I pulled out Ghita, it was from your chest,” I remark.

  “Different zones are linked to different parts of my body,” Inez explains.

  “Will Logu and the others be comfortable?” I ask.

  “It’s a sizeable zone,” Inez says. “Plenty of space to train and keep fit. Lots of mushrooms too, so they won’t go hungry.”

  “Does it feel weird?”

  Inez shrugs. “It’s strange when they’re going in and coming out, but I don’t feel anything once they’re inside. It’s not like they’re bouncing about in my stomach. The zones aren’t physically inside me — I simply serve as a link to them.”

  “What if they want to get out before you release them?” I ask.

  “Sometimes I set up an escape route,” Inez says, “a way for a person to bypass my control and exit early, but that’s rare, and I usually only do it if I’m dealing with someone who’s paranoid about being trapped.”

  “What if you died while they were in there?”

  Inez rolls her eyes. “When did you become a journalist?” she snaps.

  “I’m just curious.”

  She looks around to make sure nobody’s listening, then whispers, “I don’t know. No one does. Maybe the people die, or stay trapped in the zone forever.”

  I stare at Inez with horror. “It’s a good job you didn’t share that with Maureen.”

  “I never share that with any of my clients,” Inez says, then thumps my arm. “So shut up and stop asking questions already.”

  25

  It’s evening when we finally sight the city. It appears suddenly, as we sail out of a snow flurry. One second I’m catching snowflakes on my tongue and wondering why I don’t feel colder. The next the snow stops and we’re at the edge of the city.

  It’s not much of a metropolis. No high-rises. Most of the buildings are single storeys, with a smattering of two-storey structures, and the occasional three-storey bulge. The majority are round and made of the same dark stone as the first houses that I saw, though some are wooden, and others carved out of ice.

  I’m sitting next to Cal, who nods at the igloos and says, “All the buildings in Niffelheim were like that once. Nobody knows where the fascination with ice and snow began, but they started chilling the zones thousands of years ago, and you have to search hard to find places in the realm free of it now.”

  We pass more buildings. People are standing on the banks in front of them, or leaning out of windows. A few are even on the roofs. Some cheer, but most gaze at us frostily. That surprises me, until I remember that we’re the opposition here.

  The river of blood is still bordered on both sides by natural rivers, though they’re much narrower now. As we round a bend, a handful of children wade into the water and try to keep up with us. We’re not going fast, but they don’t manage to track us for long. They laugh as they clamber out and high-five one another. They’re only dressed in swimming trunks but aren’t shivering, even though they’re not as thickly scaled as the villagers we met upstream. That reminds me of my earlier thoughts about the temperature.

  “It’s not as chilly as it should be,” I say to Cal.

  “Niffelheim was devised to have a temperate climate,” Cal says. “Most zones in Topaz are harsh, wintry places, but they didn’t want the capital to be too off-putting for visitors, so they warmed the zone.”

  “Then why doesn’t the ice melt? Or the snow?” I point at some of the roofs, which are covered in a metre or so of the white stuff.

  “This is the Merge,” Cal reminds me. “Devisers make the rules. It’s easy for them to create snow that doesn’t melt at a mild temperature.”

  “That’s weird,” I huff.

  “Most Topazers would agree with you,” Cal says. “Niffelheimers are mocked by their neighbours, and not just because of the warmth. For instance, mushrooms in Topaz are small, hard, sour things. Niffelheimers have normal mushrooms delivered from foreign realms, along with clothes, tools and lots of other stuff.”

  We continue on into the city. The buildings don’t get any taller, but there are more of them, and more people too. Some jeer at us and throw snowballs at the boats, but they don’t mean any harm, and shout out an apology when the occasional one strikes its target.

  “I bet they’ll give the SubMerged team a proper pelting,” I chuckle.

  Cal blinks. “Why would they?”

  “The SubMerged are
hated everywhere, aren’t they?” I ask.

  “No,” he grunts. “Topaz has often been aligned with the SubMerged, and the Rubes will enjoy a lot of support when the teams from other realms play them.”

  “Rubes?” I echo.

  “The people from Ruby call themselves Rubicons,” he grins, “but we call them Rubes when we want to annoy them. They hate that term.”

  “Rubes,” I say, and I grin too. “I like it.”

  Cal laughs. “But save it for when we’re playing them. If we call it out to Rubicons in the streets, it might lead to fighting, and Pitina asked us not to do that.”

  “You’re worried about what she thinks, even though she’s SubMerged?” I ask.

  “Of course,” Cal says. “I’m a Sapphirite now, and she’s my queen.”

  The Merged and their royals... I don’t think it will ever make sense to me.

  After a while the rivers to either side of us burrow into the ground. We carry on past them for a few hundred metres, then the lead boat turns left, following the river of blood as it cuts through a high bank of ice. There are excited murmurings and the people on my craft push forward for a better view.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Cal.

  “We’ve come to the Lair,” he says.

  “That sounds dangerous. Should I be worried?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s just the name for the place where the teams gather. Get ready, Archibald.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “Adulation and abuse,” he answers cryptically.

  The second boat swerves out of sight, then the third, and then it’s our turn. We enter a low, tight tunnel, only just enough room for the boat to manoeuvre. Someone shouts and we listen to the echoes bounce off the icy walls and ceiling. It feels truly cold in here, but we’re not in the tunnel for long, and when we emerge I quickly forget about the chill.

  The river loops around a hexagonal island. There are six raised sections at the vertices. They look like large turrets, and there are lots of people on four of them, but they’re far outnumbered by the thousands of people gathered on the banks around the river of blood.

  The people are sitting or standing in their masses. There are cheers and boos – more of the latter than the former – as our boat emerges. I wonder why I didn’t hear the noise before, and figure the last stretch of the river must be soundproofed.

  The crowds applaud as we progress around the island. Even those who are jeering clap as we pass. The others on my boat wave to them, so I wave too, but faintly. Cal notices my half-hearted waving, picks me up and plonks me on his shoulders, saying, “Give it some welly, Archibald!”

  The boos increase when the onlookers see me perched on the shoulders of the huge man, and some stop clapping in order to lob mushrooms at me. A few even take off their shoes and chuck those. But they’re too far away and the items fall into the river of blood and dissolve, or land on the heads of people in front of the throwers.

  I laugh, put the thumb of my right hand to my nose and wriggle my fingers, and there are happy, outraged howls.

  “That’s it, Archibald,” Cal hoots. “Let them know you’re not bothered by their catcalls, that we’re here to compete and win.”

  “Sapphire! Sapphire!” I chant, and the others on the boat join in. Our cries are soon drowned out by shrieks from the crowd, but we don’t stop.

  Cal eventually puts me down and I find myself standing next to a bemused Pol. “There’s no point shouting at them,” he says. “What will that achieve?”

  “It makes me feel good,” I smile. “Besides, what else can we do?”

  “Rob them blind,” Pol says with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

  “Sounds like you might need a bigger rucksack,” I murmur.

  Pol chuckles. “I’m running out of space, that’s for sure, though my swag bag isn’t as full as it should be.”

  “I wonder why?” I laugh.

  “If anyone else had stolen from me, I’d have slit their throat,” Pol says, “but you’re a mouse in my opinion, so I let it slide.”

  “On behalf of my throat, I thank you.”

  “But don’t do it again,” Pol warns me. “Now that it’s been spoken of, I wouldn’t be able to turn a blind eye next time.”

  “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I don’t care if you steal from Topazers, just not from my friends on these boats.”

  “They’re all the same to me,” Pol sniffs, “but I won’t pinch any more stuff from your friends.” His eyes twinkle again. “I don’t need to. I did one last round while you were busy waving. You wouldn’t believe how much I added to my stash.”

  “Pol,” I groan, reaching out to grab him. Before I can, he darts to the edge of the boat, picks up his bulging rucksack, then dives overboard, only just clearing the deadly river, startling the people that he crashes into. Then he hops to his feet and quickly disappears.

  “That’s probably the last I’ll ever see of you,” I mutter, smiling sadly, already missing our little game now that it’s over, and silently wishing him well with the Topaz rats in the future.

  26

  Our steers drop us at the base of a turret, where we wait while the coaches get us organised. Nobody waves farewell to the departing steers. That isn’t the done thing in the Merge.

  When the coaches are satisfied, we climb a set of stairs, the players at the front, the coaches just behind, the backroom team bringing up the rear. We’re stopped at the top by a large, round woman in white robes. And when I say large and round, I mean unnaturally so. She’s been remoulded to look like a huge beach ball with a head and arms stuck on top. She must be at least three metres in diameter. I wonder how she keeps her balance, but she shifts while discussing something with our coaches, and I see that her feet are massive, and the mystery is solved.

  “That’s Julia Vox,” Inez tells me as lots of the team murmur with excitement. “She’s famous. I’ve transported her to events a few times.”

  “I’m surprised she was able to fit inside you,” I mutter, and Inez elbows me.

  “Don’t be rude,” she snaps.

  “I didn’t mean to be,” I groan. “I just didn’t think you could spread your arms wide enough to create a borehole for someone that big to fit through.”

  “It was a challenge,” Inez allows.

  “What’s she famous for?” I ask as Julia moves towards the centre of the turret.

  “You’re about to find out,” Inez replies.

  Julia stops and turns slowly, raising her hands as high as they can go (which isn’t very high). As she turns, she speaks, and her voice is incredibly loud — I actually flinch and take a step backwards.

  “LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND LOVELY, SWEET CHILDREN,” Julia shouts. “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR THE BRAVE WARRIORS OF SAPPHIRE!”

  There’s a huge round of applause, with lots of jeers mixed in with the clapping.

  “NOW, NOW,” Julia chuckles, and it’s the sound of a small avalanche, “LET’S BE NICE. WE WOULDN’T WANT THEM THINKING WE’RE STILL SOUR OVER THE WAY THEIR LITTLE VOTE WENT LAST YEAR.”

  Almost everyone in the crowd laughs. Most of the people on the other turrets laugh too, except for those in one group, who scowl darkly. I think I’ve pinpointed the Rubes.

  “I KNOW YOU’RE ALL DYING TO BE INTRODUCED TO THE GROPSTERS,” Julia roars, “SO LET’S BRING THEM ON WITHOUT ANY FURTHER WAFFLING FROM ME. FIRST UP, THEIR REDOUBTABLE CAPTAIN. I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE THIS FIERY FEMALE IN ACTION. SHE’S FIERCER THAN A LION AND FASTER THAN A GAZELLE. LET’S HEAR IT FOR OLIVIA HUMMINGBIRD!”

  The place goes wild. There are no catcalls now, just cries of support. Even the Rubicons are applauding. It seems like the official introductions are respected by one and all.

  I cast an eye over the other teams while Julia Vox is naming and praising our players. The Rubicons are dressed in red, with clenched fists stitched into the fabric. The members of another team are dressed in yellow with bluish icicles adorning their chests, and I guess those are
the Topazers.

  I hadn’t given much thought to our outfits, but now I realise we’re wearing blue because that’s the colour of sapphires. Rubies are red, and I’m pretty sure you can get yellow topaz stones. I figure the other teams are wearing colour-coded clothes too and decide to see if I can work out their identities without asking Inez.

  The gropsters to our left are dressed in green, with hieroglyphic symbols running across them — they’re surely from Emerald. That just leaves the team dressed in white, with no adornments at all, who must be from Pearl.

  “Do you want me to point out which realms the teams are from?” Inez asks.

  “No need,” I reply smugly, and point. “Ruby, Topaz, Emerald, Pearl.”

  “Impressive,” Inez smiles. “You seem to know a lot about precious jewels. That’s good news if you’re ever looking to give me a nice present.”

  Julia’s still introducing the players. She uses their positions instead of surnames, so it’s Olivia Hummingbird, Cal Blocker, and so on. I wonder if she’s going to introduce the rest of us the same way, and if that means I’ll have to go by the name of Archibald Bandages for the rest of the tournament, but when she’s processed the final player, she turns to Pitina.

  “THEY’RE A FINE LOOKING BUNCH,” Julia yells, “BUT WE’VE SAVED THE FINEST TILL LAST. IT’S YOUR FAVOURITE SAPPHIRITE ROYAL AND MINE, QUEEN PITINA!”

  I expect another huge round of applause as a smiling Pitina steps forward with a raised hand, but to my surprise the stadium begins to fall silent. At first I think this is a mark of respect, but Pitina looks confused and Julia does too. The women stare at one another, and the others around me mutter with bewilderment. Then Inez lays a hand on my arm and says softly, “Look.”

  She points towards the river of blood, and I see what’s silenced the crowd. A boat has appeared out of the tunnel and is drifting towards the final, unoccupied turret. There are seventeen players on it, clad in translucent outfits, studded with clear gemstones. I count another eleven people on the boat, not including the steer, who must be the coaches and backroom team. Twenty-eight people in total, not even enough to fill a playing squad.