Delivery to the Lost City Page 17

  “That’s right, Your Greatness. In the lowest ward of the Midtwist District.”

  “And did many people see them? Speak to them?”

  “Quite a few, according to the reports,” said Kecker.

  Frogmaggog’s mouth drew down into a sneer of distaste. “In that case, I want you to take ten squads of Watch Frogs and arrest everyone in the area.”

  Kecker blinked in surprise. “What … what exactly do you mean by ‘everyone,’ Your Greatness?”

  “Everyone!” Frogmaggog shouted. “Empty every building, clear every street, arrest the whole ward if you have to. Ina’s bound to be somewhere among them, and the lies told by the outworlders and their book are an infection that may already be spreading. We need to stop it before it contaminates the whole city.”

  “But that means hundreds of arrests, Your Greatness, and the dungeons are already overfull. Where will we put them all?”

  “Bring them to me,” said Frogmaggog. “It would be a shame to let so much nutrition go to waste.”

  Kecker looked up in horror. “All of them?”

  As if in answer, the hideous tongue lashed out again and snatched up one of the Watch Frogs standing beside Kecker. The poor creature vanished into Frogmaggog’s cavernous mouth with a scream.

  “I’m always hungry, Commander,” said Frogmaggog, his face darkening. “And there’s room on the menu for you.”

  Kecker bowed so low that his face almost scraped the porcelain. “I will carry out your orders immediately, Your Greatness.”

  Frogmaggog stroked the rubbery mound of his biggest chin. “And as for the girl and specter who escaped, this might be the time to see what my little pet can do,” he mused. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

  Kecker knew better than to answer, and simply watched as Frogmaggog waved away the clouds of steam overhead to reveal an enormous crystal chandelier. Its thousands of crystal pieces were shaped like fish and floated freely in the air, moving slowly together in a great shoal around a large central bowl, in which schools of real fish glowed brightly. But something else hovered beneath it—a birdcage the size of a telephone booth, draped in a black shroud. Frogmaggog plucked the cage out of the air, set it on the rim of the bath beside him, and removed the shroud.

  The creature inside shrank away from the light and shielded its eyes with a clawed hand. It was the size and shape of a large man, although a pair of wings sprouted from its shoulder blades. Their golden-brown feathers were matted and bent, and the jerkin and breeches covering the creature’s powerful body hung in tatters. It wore a thick metal collar around its neck.

  “Look at me,” Frogmaggog ordered, flicking the cage with his forefinger.

  With obvious reluctance the creature lowered its claw and turned its large yellow eyes on Frogmaggog. They were set in a flat, feathered face and burned with hatred.

  “I have a job for you, little pet,” said Frogmaggog.

  The creature hissed. “I am not your pet,” it said in a voice as rich and dark as woodsmoke. “I am Egolius Tenebrae, criminal mastermind, and I will not be kept here like this.” His glare intensified as he looked deep into Frogmaggog’s eyes.

  The Master of Magic stared back for a moment, then laughed. “You’re a dirty little outworlder and you’ll do as I say,” he replied. “And are you still trying to hypnotize me? I’ve told you before—your powers might work on the pitiful creatures of your own world, but we Hydroboreans are made of sterner stuff. We’re immune.”

  Tenebrae hissed again, but lowered his eyes to the ground.

  “That’s better,” said Frogmaggog. “I only spared your life because you claimed you could be useful, and now the time has come to see if you’re right. You tell me you’re a hunter. Well, I’ve got some prey for you.”

  “You mean the ghost and the outworlder girl,” said Tenebrae. “I was listening. That girl’s caused trouble for me before.”

  “Is that so?” said Frogmaggog. “Then this is your chance to get even. Find them, and make sure they never trouble either of us again.”

  “What’s in it for me?” said Tenebrae.

  “Apart from revenge?” Frogmaggog smirked. “I won’t eat you. Yet.”

  “Is that all?” Tenebrae dragged his talons down the bars of his cage with a piercing metallic shriek that made Kecker and the remaining Watch Frog wince. “Once I’m out of this cage, why should I ever come back?”

  “Because you won’t have any choice,” said Frogmaggog. “Haven’t you wondered why I put that collar on you?”

  Tenebrae picked at the band of metal around his neck. “It’s another attempt to humiliate me,” he said.

  “Of course,” said Frogmaggog. “But it also makes sure you behave. Like this.”

  He snapped his fingers, the collar sparked with magical energy, and Tenebrae disappeared in a flash of blue light. With a burbling laugh, Frogmaggog drew the cage lower so that Kecker and his Watch Frog could see into it. On the spot where Tenebrae had stood was a small blue hermit crab with a spotted shell, waggling its feelers in surprise. It turned in a slow, stumbling circle before raising its tiny pincers toward Frogmaggog and clacking them ineffectually.

  The Master of Magic roared with laughter. “Isn’t it ingenious?” he said, flashing the signet ring on his finger. “As long as I’m wearing this, all I have to do is click my fingers and I can turn you into anything I like.” He snapped his fingers again, and with another flash of light, Tenebrae was restored to his true form, the collar still in place around his neck.

  “You can’t do this to me!” he said.

  “I can and I will,” Frogmaggog replied. “So deal with the girl and be quick about it, or I’ll transform you permanently.”

  Tenebrae flew into a rage, hissing and clawing and rattling the bars of his tiny prison. Frogmaggog merely folded his arms and waited until Tenebrae slumped, exhausted, to the floor of the cage. “What will it be, outworlder?”

  “Fine,” Tenebrae growled. “I’ll do it.”

  Frogmaggog gave a satisfied grunt and turned to Kecker.

  “You have your orders, Commander. Why are you still here?”

  Commander Kecker and his remaining Watch Frog both blanched and scurried down the plug chain to rejoin the rest of the squad.

  “And as for you,” said Frogmaggog, carrying Tenebrae’s cage to one of the circular windows high in the wall, “I want proof that you’ve taken care of the girl.”

  “You’ll have it,” said Tenebrae.

  “And be discreet,” said Frogmaggog, pushing the window open. “I can’t have the city knowing I’m using an outworlder to do my dirty work.” He unfastened the cage, and Tenebrae sprang out onto the window ledge, taking a moment to stretch his wings. He tugged at the collar but it didn’t budge.

  “I’m going to make you pay for this one day,” he said, looking back at Frogmaggog. Then he turned and leaped out of the window, disappearing over the rain-lashed city with a single snap of his wings.

  19

  FLUSHED WITH SUCCESS

  Suzy fought for breath as she was swept along in a raging torrent of white water. She didn’t have much chance to see where they were, but she could guess—Hydroborea’s sewers.

  “Chief?” she spluttered.

  “I’m here,” came the reply. “Don’t worry.”

  At last the flood began to calm and she was able to keep her head above water without being swamped. She took a few choking breaths and looked around. Sure enough, the Chief was hovering alongside her, half in and half out of the water, and his glow was just bright enough to illuminate the large pipe down which they were being swept. She grabbed at the walls to try to slow herself but only succeeded in scraping her hands on the rough stone.

  “We have to go back,” she said. “We have to find a way to save Wilmot.”

  “My dear,” said the Chief softly, “there’s nothing we can do for him. He’s gone.”

  She spat dirty water. “But he can’t be!”

  His glow di
mmed. “I’m so sorry.”

  Suzy was speechless.

  She knew he was right, but that didn’t make it feel any better. She wasn’t sure anything would ever make this feel any better. When the tears came, she didn’t try to stop them.

  Wilmot was gone. The book, too, and with it, any hope of retrieving the words it had stolen from the Ivory Tower. She and the Chief were trapped here. She would never make it home. She would never see her parents again, and her friends on the Express would never make another delivery. She had failed them all, and she didn’t know how to fix it.

  She wasn’t any closer to an answer twenty minutes later, when her satchel caught on a rusty ladder set into the wall of the pipe, bringing her to an abrupt halt. Shards of cold light slipped in around the rim of a manhole above her.

  “Where do you suppose we are?” she said.

  “I’ll take a little look, shall I?” said the Chief. He rose up and stuck his head through the manhole cover, ducking down a moment later. “A little bit of good news,” he said. “The coast’s clear.”

  Suzy clambered out of the manhole and flopped onto her back in the middle of the street. There was no one to see her—the road was dark and the buildings around her were empty and crumbling. The sewer had carried her back to the abandoned Lowertwist district, not far from where they had left the H.E.C.

  “There’s not a soul about,” said the Chief. “We can regroup and come up with a new strategy.”

  Suzy covered her face with her hands to shield it against the rain. “We are the group now, Chief,” she said. “And there are no strategies left. This is it. We’re finished.”

  “Nonsense,” said the Chief. “Is that any way for a postie to talk? What would Wilmot say if he could see you now?”

  Suzy screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to think about Wilmot right now. It was too painful.

  “He’d be doing his best, of course,” the Chief continued. “Come rain, shine, or meteor shower, and all that.”

  “The Impossible Postal Express will deliver,” Suzy muttered. She wiped the rain and tears from her eyes and sat up. “I know. And he’d probably find a way, but I’m not as good at this as he is.” She swallowed a painful lump in her throat. “As he was.”

  “Neither was he when I first met him,” said the Chief. “He was constantly out of his depth. And not just because he was standing on the seafloor of the Topaz Narrows.” He chuckled. “Wilmot had such a legacy to live up to, you see. His father and grandfather were both exceptional posties in their own day, his mother was Postmistress General, and he was terrified of falling short. That’s why he always tried so hard—because he could see the heights reached by those who had gone before him, and didn’t want to let them down.”

  Suzy watched the rain ping and patter against the road as a peal of thunder sounded overhead. “This is the bit where you tell me I’ve got to live up to his standard now, isn’t it?” she said.

  The Chief smiled. “I always knew you were a bright girl,” he said. “So, what’s the first item on our to-do list?”

  Suzy gave a weary sigh. “We need to get the book back from Frogmaggog and deliver it to Ina,” she said. “But how? Walk back into the palace and tell him to hand it over?”

  “I can’t tell you what to do, I’m afraid,” said the Chief. “But I have every confidence that you will find a way to do something. And maybe it will work, and maybe it won’t, but at least we’ll have hope. Why, if it weren’t for you, I’d still be stuck on board LA ROUQUINE with no chance of ever leaving.”

  His words went a very small way to lessening the painful lump of grief that had set up home in Suzy’s chest. “Thanks.” She dragged her hair out of her face and took a proper look around for the first time. “We should find cover. Frogmaggog’s probably looking for us by now.”

  “Smart thinking,” said the Chief. “Where do you suggest we go?”

  She got to her feet, wincing as her various scrapes and bruises made themselves known. “Ina’s place,” she said. “She and Amlod are the only friendly faces we’ve met so far. And now that Frogmaggog knows about her, they’re both in danger. We need to warn them.”

  The Chief’s glow brightened again. “There you are, you see? I told you you’d come up with something. Let’s get started.”

  Suzy nodded.

  All she really wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sleep for a whole day, then wake up to discover that everything in her life had magically fixed itself. But she knew that life didn’t work like that, and neither did magic. You could have the best spells in the business, but sooner or later you had to put in the legwork.

  The Chief bobbed ahead of her as she set off uphill, her head bowed against the rain. Every drop struck her like a tiny hammer blow, and the runoff from the streets surged around her ankles. She checked her pocket watch—barely three hours until the delivery deadline. How was she ever going to do this?

  There was a sudden crack of thunder high above them. The sound died away into a low rumble, which swept out across the rooftops before being lost in the steady drumbeat of the rain.

  “Dreadful weather,” said the Chief.

  Suzy stopped, suddenly afraid. “This city doesn’t have weather,” she said. “It just has leaks.” She shielded her eyes and peered up into the rain, but all she saw above the rooftops was a vague darkness.

  “But if that wasn’t thunder, what was it?” asked the Chief.

  “I’m not sure,” said Suzy. Then she remembered the groans and creaks that the H.E.C.’s hull had made as the ocean tightened its grip around it, and a new, horrifying idea occurred to her. “It’s the city’s shell,” she said. “I think it’s starting to buckle under the pressure.”

  “What does that mean?” said the Chief.

  “It means we might have even less time than we realized,” said Suzy. “We’d better hurry.”

  With the Chief’s light to guide her, she set off uphill at a run.

  20

  A NEW PLAN

  By the time Suzy found her way back to Plankton Plaza the streetlights had changed again, from their summery golden light to a soft dusky purple. This was apparently what passed for evening in Hydroborea, and Suzy found it a bit disorienting. Although she knew perfectly well that each of the Impossible Places kept their own time, her body clock was still tuned to home, where it was currently the middle of the night. At least the late hour and heavy rain had driven everyone indoors. Even the newspaper seller had packed up and gone home.

  I suppose we didn’t leave him anything to sell, Suzy thought.

  “I’ll lie low for a while, shall I?” said the Chief. He retreated into his skull as Suzy crawled out from underneath the netting in the alleyway and hurried across the Plaza onto Ina’s street. Another low rumble of thunder sounded, dim and far away, as she flitted from one bit of cover to another.

  “I really don’t like the sound of that,” she whispered.

  “This city’s at the bottom of an ocean. There are hundreds of thousands of tons of water outside, threatening to pour in. How long can the outer shell withstand that sort of pressure without the right magic to maintain it?”

  “Hopefully a little bit longer,” said the Chief. “I’d hate to leave one seafloor just to end up trapped on another.”

  They reached the archway leading to the courtyard of Ina’s building. Suzy tested the big wooden doors, expecting them to be locked again, and was surprised when one of them swung open. She poked her head into the courtyard and looked around. Lights burned in every window, but there was nobody in sight. Crouching low, she hurried to Ina’s window and knocked. It opened almost immediately, and Ina stuck her head out.

  “I knew it!” she said, breaking into a huge grin. “I left the courtyard door unlocked in case you made it back. Come in, come in! I want to know everything!” She practically pulled Suzy off her feet and in through the window.

  Amlod, who had been sitting on his bed, jumped to his feet.

  “I don’t
believe it!” he said. “Did you see Frogmaggog? How did you get away?”

  Suzy’s relief at seeing them both again was almost overwhelmed by the sorrow that tried to force its way up her throat when she opened her mouth. She bit the feeling back, but Ina saw her pained expression and her own face clouded.

  “Where’s Wilmot?” she asked.

  Suzy’s eyes pricked with tears again. Sharing the news was like reliving it all over. “We met Frogmaggog,” she said. “He took the book and he … he ate Wilmot.”

  Amlod sat down heavily, but Ina’s expression became unreadable. “He eats people?” she said, mystified.

  Suzy nodded. “The Chief and I only just escaped, but the Watch Frogs are bound to be looking for us. We can’t stay long.”

  Ina wrapped her arms around Suzy. They were surprisingly warm and dry for a newt, Suzy thought.

  “We’ll do everything we can to help you, won’t we, Amlod?”

  Amlod seemed ready to give the question some serious thought, until Ina gave him a sharp look. “Oh,” he said. “Yes, of course.”

  “Thank you,” said Suzy. “But there’s something else. Something important.”

  “Wait!” Ina got out her notepad and pen. “Okay, I’m ready. Shoot.”

  Suzy took in her breath and gathered herself. “The book rejected Frogmaggog when we tried to hand it over. It wants to be delivered to you.”

  Ina had only scribbled a few words when she looked up abruptly. “Me?” she said. “What for?”

  “I don’t think it likes Frogmaggog any more than you do,” said Suzy. “Whatever its powers are, it wants to share them with you instead.”

  Ina sat down heavily on her bed. “But I don’t know how to use magic,” she said. “How am I even supposed to unlock it?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think it’ll just unlock itself if you ask it to,” said Suzy. “It wants to be opened, but only by the right person, which means we’ve got to get the two of you together as quickly as we can.” Another lump, another swallow. “It’s what Wilmot would do.”