Archibald Lox and the Vote of Alignment Page 16

  “Isn’t he?” Inez gasps.

  “No,” Maiko says. “He’s resting in one of the caravans.”

  We set off at top speed, tear around the rear of Cal’s caravan and throw ourselves inside, landing on top of the snoozing behemoth.

  “What’s up?” Cal grunts, shoving us off and rubbing his eyelids.

  “It’s us,” Inez whoops.

  “Archibald and Inez,” I add.

  Cal lowers his hand. “So it is,” he beams, rubbing Inez’s head, then mine. I note that two fingers are missing from his hand, and run my gaze over him, starting with the feet and finishing with his head. He’s in a bad way, lots of cuts and bruises. There’s a deep gash in his upper left arm. His right eye has swelled shut, a couple more of his teeth are missing, and most of the moustache on the left side of his face has been ripped away.

  “I look worse than I feel,” he says, seeing my face drop. “I’m most concerned about the moustache. The other injuries can be fixed – even the missing fingers can be replaced – but a lot of love and care went into those hairs. I’m not sure it will ever look the same again.”

  “You big, glorious idiot,” Inez snorts, treating him to an extra tight hug. “Tell us what happened.”

  Cal shrugs and scratches at the flesh around the cut on his arm. “There’s not much to tell. The killers came at me like panthers after I’d thrown you clear.” He grins at the memory.

  “You fought them off?” I ask.

  “I held my own,” he says modestly. “They’d have got the better of me if they’d stuck with it, but they abandoned the fight to search for you.” Cal snorts. “That’s the trouble with the SubMerged — they rarely stick around to see a job through. Old Man Reap was the same, always moving on to terrorise a new zone before he’d finished razing the last one to the ground.”

  “I think you’re the first person to ever complain about Old Man Reap that way,” Inez laughs.

  “He never scared me,” Cal says. “He was a man like any other, as we proved in the end.”

  “I want to hear more about this Reap guy,” I mutter.

  “You really don’t,” Inez says with a shudder. Then she hugs Cal again. “You were very brave.”

  “Nonsense,” he says. “I was just being a good friend.”

  She tweaks what’s left of his once grand moustache. “Come with us. This is too sweet a day to waste in here.”

  “I’m still recuperating,” Cal protests.

  “You can recuperate later,” she tells him. “I want you to take me out on the streets and dance with me.”

  “Then you’re the really brave one,” he says.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I dance like an elephant,” he smiles. “Your feet will be crushed.”

  We laugh and help Cal dress, and shortly after that we find the thesps celebrating with the locals, and dance and sing the day away until nightfall.

  38

  THE CITY really comes alive in the dark. Bonfires are lit in public squares, fireworks are sent streaking across the sky, there are parades. I even spot some SubMerged taking part. They’re disappointed by the way the vote went, but don’t want to miss out on the fun. The Merged accept them without complaint. This is a time for sharing the joy, even with the enemies who would have crushed this realm.

  It’s nice to catch up with the thesps. They’re relieved to see us — in some of the stories doing the rounds, the camel exploded when the princess emerged, while her assistant wasn’t mentioned at all, making them wonder if the pair of us had fallen in pursuit of our goal.

  Oleg pulls me aside and pumps me for details of our quest. He plans to write a play about it, and wants the inside scoop to help it stand out from the dozens of other plays that will no doubt be hastily produced over the coming days and weeks.

  Baba Jen is the only one who’s in a grumpy mood. “If I’d known I wasn’t going to be needed, I wouldn’t have bothered studying you,” she says to Inez. “It’s been a waste of a journey as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Sorry,” Inez grins. “I’ll try to arrange another risky venture and make sure you don’t get squeezed out of the action next time.”

  Late in the night, we head back to Lot 173T, where the actors put on an impromptu show. It’s a raucous skit, led by Baba Jen, which pokes fun at the SubMerged who were present when the princess turned up. The thesps pretend to be Duke Edward, Queen Pitina and the others. They feign shock and outrage, giving the characters long, bumbling speeches. It’s very funny, and even the SubMerged in the audience laugh.

  When the thesps tire, Dermot invites Cal on stage to recount the game of grop that took place before we set off for the palace. That’s already passed into lore — I’ve heard several accounts of how he stood his ground against Orlan and Argate.

  Cal normally wouldn’t go anywhere near a stage – he’s not someone who wants to be in the public eye – but he’s giddy from all the acclaim (and loss of blood) and allows himself to be dragged up. As he tells his story, some of the thesps act out the various roles, and the audience is quickly guffawing and clapping.

  I wander away before Cal gets to the part where Inez and I are added to the team, and stroll out to the road to enjoy a spot of quiet. As I’m taking a break from the celebrations, a small mushroom drops on my head. Looking up, I spot Pol, Guido and Lena clinging to a vine.

  “You made it to the top,” Pol notes.

  “We sure did,” I grin.

  “I wanted to climb the cliff too,” Guido sulks.

  “You wouldn’t have felt that way if you’d seen the drop,” Pol grunts, shivering at the memory. Then he scowls at me. “I’d have come if I’d been needed – I wasn’t that scared – but I couldn’t have done anything up there.”

  “That’s right,” I tell him, hiding a smile.

  Pol nods, content that nobody’s going to call him a coward. “Did you know she was carrying the princess?”

  “No.”

  “When I found out, I half-wished I hadn’t helped you,” Pol says.

  “Why not?” I frown. “You can’t have wanted Queen Pitina to triumph.”

  “Of course not,” Pol says, “but now people will want to track me down and reward me.”

  “Us too,” Guido points out.

  “What’s wrong with that?” I ask.

  “We don’t like people looking for us,” Pol says.

  “They might try to put us in proper homes,” Guido agrees.

  “And we don’t like being given stuff,” Pol adds.

  “We prefer to take it,” Guido says proudly.

  As I’m gawping at them, they shoot off, scurving away into the night without a hint of a farewell.

  Lena hovers a moment and smiles at me shyly. “I’m glad you beat the bad guys,” she says. “You’d make a good mouse, Archie. You could even become a rat if you trained very hard.”

  “Maybe one day,” I laugh, “but I have to go home. There are people who’ll be missing me.”

  “You’re lucky,” Lena sighs. “Nobody ever misses a rat.”

  With that she takes off, and even though I know she can’t hear me, I whisper after her as she’s swiftly lost to sight, “Don’t be too sure about that.”

  39

  CAL AND THE THESPS have finished when I return but the party is going strong. People drop out and join in over the course of the night, bringing or taking drink, food, musical instruments and other odds and ends. At one point a gropmeister marks out a rough pitch and a match is staged. It’s a chaotic mess, but we have lots of fun, even though I soon tire of being lobbed into the air to shoot — according to the rumours, I’m a skilled bird who scored several points in the real match.

  Cal retires to tend to his wounds. He’s going to be treated by a proper healer in the days to come, but in the meantime Baba Jen is looking after him. As well as being an actress and spy, the foul-mouthed little girl is also a skilled medic.

  Things calm down towards dawn, which is when a shadowy
figure in a hooded shawl taps me on the shoulder and beckons me aside. I follow the person into the shade behind the stage, figuring it’s someone who wants to hear my story again.

  I find Inez waiting for us. The interloper pulls down her hood and I’m surprised to see that it’s actually Princess Ghita. “Sorry for the subterfuge,” she says, “but I didn’t want to cause a commotion.”

  “You should have announced yourself,” I tell her. “The thesps would have been star-struck.”

  She grimaces. “That’s why I didn’t. I’ve been bouncing about from one party to another. It’s been fun, but I’m exhausted.”

  “It must have been nice to stretch your legs after all that time cramped up inside Inez,” I note.

  “No, there was loads of space,” the princess says. “Plenty of mushrooms too. The boredom got to me – you might want to provide some books for your next guest, Inez – but I never went hungry or lacked exercise.”

  “Books,” Inez snorts. “You’ll be asking for your own troupe of thesps next.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Ghita winks, then says, “I popped back to the palace for a quick conflab with Pitina and Farkas. I wanted to chat with Hugo too, but he’d already left for the Born. I was going to head to bed once we’d got done talking, but Pitina said you were looking for me.”

  “Yes,” Inez says. “Can you wait here? I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

  “As if I’m going to say no after all you’ve done for me,” the princess replies. She casts a curious look at me while Inez is gone. “Any idea what this is about?”

  “No,” I say, though in truth I have a hunch.

  She looks at me more closely. “What’s your story? Nobody in the palace knows anything about you, your history, how you got involved with Inez.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” I mutter. “I’m nothing special.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she says. “You couldn’t have picked the lock if you weren’t a first-class locksmith, but it’s odd that nobody has heard about you, since you must have spent decades studying to reach such an advanced level.”

  “You’d be surprised,” I whisper, my face reddening.

  “What realm are you from?” she presses.

  I shrug, not wanting to lie, but not sure if I should tell her the truth.

  “That’s alright,” Ghita says, noting my discomfort. “After all that you risked on my behalf, you’re entitled to your privacy. But if you ever need a favour, Master Lox, you only have to ask.”

  She reaches across and strokes my hand, and my blush deepens.

  “Are you getting romantic with Princess Ghita, Archibald?” Cal says, shuffling out of the gloom.

  “Don’t be stupid,” I huff, my face turning into a radioactive zone. “She was just saying thanks.”

  “Yes,” Ghita says. “Although if I was looking for a boyfriend...” Her eyes sparkle and I don’t know if she’s serious or joking.

  “This is Cal Riser,” Inez says.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Ghita says, making the greet. “I’ve heard you played a vital role in smuggling me into the throne room.”

  “Hardly vital,” Cal mumbles bashfully.

  “Cal used to work for King Lloyd,” Inez says.

  “I met Lloyd a few times,” the princess says. “A lovely man.”

  “I promised to find him somebody new to pledge himself to when Lloyd moved back to the Born,” Inez goes on. “I’d like to appoint him as your protector, to be by your side wherever you go.”

  “I’ve never had a personal guard,” the princess scowls. “It would be restrictive.”

  “I know,” Inez says, “but the situation has changed. You had a lucky escape this time, but the SubMerged will target you again. They have the scent of this realm in their nostrils. It’s only a matter of time before they make another play for it.”

  “Perhaps,” Ghita concedes, “but I’ve looked after myself this long.”

  “You have responsibilities to your people,” Inez says.

  “I know all about my responsibilities,” Ghita says hotly.

  “Then prove it,” Inez challenges her. “Surrender certain freedoms. Travel less widely. Play more of a role in running Sapphire. Let Cal be your right arm.”

  “Even if I was minded to accept a bodyguard,” the princess says, “why should I choose your friend? He doesn’t look very spry.”

  “I’m a mess at the moment,” Cal chuckles. “I took a pounding, it’s true, but I took it willingly, and I’d take it again and fight to my last breath for you if you accept me.”

  “He’s good at grop too,” I say when the princess hesitates.

  Ghita laughs at my irrelevant contribution, then smiles at the wounded Cal. “Very well. I’ll have my healers patch you up, then set you some trials. If you pass, the job’s yours.” Her smile fades. “It’s true that these are troubling times. I’m going to have to grow up. I’ll spend the next few years in the Born. I’ve had a whale of a time being a princess, but this realm would be better served by a Merged queen.”

  “Princess or queen,” Cal says nobly, “my service is yours from this day on.” Then he takes her hand and leads her away without a farewell glance.

  “I love a happy ending,” Inez says, drawing up next to me to watch the big man and the princess disappear into the night.

  “Me too,” I smile. Then I punch her upper arm.

  “Ow!” she says, shocked.

  “I was just doing it to you before you did it to me,” I giggle.

  “Fair enough,” she grins, then takes my hand. “This is the end, Archie.”

  “I know,” I say softly.

  “We’ll start back tomorrow,” she says. “It’s time to return you to your foster parents and the life you left behind.”

  I nod mutely, accepting her decision, welcoming it, but also wishing I could stay in this wondrous sphere forever. But since that’s not possible – I don’t want to put George and Rachel through too much pain – I let Inez lead me back to where the party is winding down, to enjoy the last few rumbles of the celebrations before we turn in for the night and start for the Born in the morning.

  NINE — THE RETURN

  40

  WE SLEEP MUCH LONGER than anticipated. We were on a high last night, and the pain and weariness of the climb faded away, but they returned as soon as we lay our heads down, and we fell into a deep, reviving sleep. I’m grumpy when Inez wakes me in the afternoon – I could have slept for another eight hours – but she tells me if we don’t leave now, it will be the next day before we can depart.

  “Would that be so bad?” I grumble. “I’ve been absent for ages. What difference will one more day make?”

  “It’s not just about you,” Inez says. “I’ve a life to resume too.”

  “You sound like you can’t wait to get rid of me,” I growl.

  “I can’t,” she laughs, then pats my back and tells me to be ready in ten minutes. “If you find an excuse to stay, you’ll keep on finding excuses, but you don’t really want to sever your ties to the Born, do you?”

  “No,” I sigh, and force myself to go pick some mushrooms.

  We don’t bid the thesps farewell — that isn’t the way in the Merge. Instead we hit the road while the others are snoring.

  We say nothing as we wind through the streets of Cornan. It’s much quieter than last night, hardly anyone to be seen, except for groups of SubMerged heading back to Ruby, glum-faced and surly, like supporters of a team who’ve lost a big match.

  “Will it take us long to get to the Born?” I ask.

  “A day or less,” Inez says. “The way back will be easy, as we don’t have to worry about evading search teams now.”

  We slip through a borehole near the edge of the city, into a zone where trees grow upside down overhead, giving the effect of a sky of branches and leaves.

  “What do the vines dig into?” I ask as we press on.

  “Soil,” she says.

  �
�And what’s holding that up?”

  “The soil must be caked across the face of the buffer.” She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Still full of questions?”

  “Always,” I laugh, and Inez laughs too.

  We cross into another realm, where we hail a ride from a steer down a river of blood. This one isn’t as talkative as Preston and she simply accepts our payment of mushrooms with a curt nod, then guides us through a variety of zones.

  At the end of our river journey, we cross a few more zones, then settle down for the night, rising not long after dawn to eat a quick breakfast and make an early start.

  We don’t say much over the next few hours, as we cross through several zones on foot, until I spot a familiar series of arches in a field ahead of us.

  “That aqueduct is where we first met, isn’t it?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Inez says.

  “You were dangling from a vine,” I recall.

  “I was delighted with myself,” she smiles. “I’d escaped from Orlan and Argate, I had a clear plan in mind – find Winston and persuade him to help me – and all seemed well. Then you turned up.”

  “You should have sent me back,” I joke.

  “Yes,” she says, then winks.

  It’s a long climb up the vine through which I first entered the Merge. I think back to that day, how new and strange all of this was, how I had no idea what lay ahead of me when I left the vine behind. It was better that way. If I’d known what was to come, I wouldn’t have had the courage to continue.

  Eventually, after much huffing and puffing, we come to the hole in the vine where I opened my first lock. I push up through the gap and stare. I’m on the footbridge where I spotted Inez and the killers who were chasing her. It’s morning, commuters mixed in with the tourists who are always on the bridge taking photos of the London Eye and the Houses of Parliament.

  Nobody sees me as I peer around, only my upper half showing. They all veer past the hole, subconsciously clocking it and taking care not to fall in.

  “I’ll shut the borehole before I leave,” Inez says, getting to her feet next to me. “It’s not a good idea to leave them open.”