Paul Collins - The Spell of Undoing

A loud impact jarred the barred door. Tab raised her hands, ready to jump. There was a soft knocking from inside the pantry. Oh, no. She had completely forgotten about the man in black. If the magicians caught him in there they would assume he had stolen the icefire gem and he would be tortured in the most horrible ways.

But there was no time to worry about anyone else's welfare.

Grunting, she snatched the grille from the drain and flung it aside. Then she grabbed a ball of string from a wall peg, the kind used to tie up turkeys and legs of lamb. She knotted one end to the pantry lever and wrapped the other in her fist.

Then she expelled all the air from her lungs and sucked in her stomach.

‘This is becoming a habit,’ she said breathlessly, and jumped into the drain. At once the string pulled tight. She heard the pantry door slam open, then she was falling.

Down she swirled, around and around. Narrow walls scraped her, corners slashed and bruised her. Tab turned around so many times, she became dizzy. At one point, she slid to a stop then realised she had breathed in. Maybe that was why she had become dizzy. But there was nothing for it: she expelled her breath again, wriggled frantically, and resumed her downward plunge.

Finally she came to a jarring halt that would have winded her if she had had any air in her lungs. Holding up the icefire gem and using it as a source of light, she saw that she had landed in a slightly larger drain. Far above, she could make out the noises of a battle. Though it was nothing to her, she nonetheless hoped the polite stranger had made it out of the building in one piece.

Gasping for breath, Tab slithered forward but quickly realised the pipe led to a dead end. Then she heard it. The soft barking cough of a ferra.

Shivering, she scrambled back up the way she had come, scrabbling at the slithery sides of the pipe. Fortunately, there were big patches of furry mould growing everywhere and these gave her some purchase. She made her way back to a fork and without hesitating dived into the other branch.

She plummeted, picking up alarming speed. With all her might she dug her knees into the sides of the pipe, but slowed only a little. Then she saw a light at the end of the tunnel. The pipe levelled out and her headlong plunge slowed to a stop.

Luckily she had landed in the main drain.

A petulant voice said, ‘Well, are you going to sit in there all day? You have no idea of the danger I've been in, waiting out here.’

‘The danger you've been in?’ Tab exclaimed. Muttering, she crawled towards the exit on hands and knees. As a precaution she stuck the gem into the waistband of her undergarments, then found she was stuck fast.

‘Come on,’ said Fontagu. He sounded frightened. The alarms were still ringing up in the Magicians’ Guild.

‘I'm stuck!’ Tab tried to free herself but whatever had snared her wasn't letting go.

‘I can't stay here forever,’ said Fontagu. ‘My legs are cramping. I know, throw me the gem and I'll get help.’

Tab had no intention of parting with the gem until she had her money. It wasn't only Fontagu's frozen-on smile, it was just that she had learned in her short life not to trust anybody.

‘Get me out of here first,’ said Tab.

‘Give me the gem and I'll reward you with a gift more precious than anything,’ said Fontagu. Oddly enough, this time Tab thought he was telling the truth – or as much of it as he could bring himself to tell.

‘You've already offered ten silver moons,’ Tab said, struggling to free herself.

‘Nothing compared to what I'm offering you now,’ said Fontagu, reaching into the pipe as far as he could. Then his eyes widened in fright. His feet were slipping. ‘Hurry!’

Their fingertips touched.

Tab heard the now familiar sound of the ferras. She didn't need to see them to know they were coming for her. With tremendous effort she stretched, feeling her joints crack. She managed to hook her fingers into Fontagu's.

‘Suck in your breath!’ he said.

‘I am!’ Tab wheezed. ‘I think I'm stuck on something!’

Something ripped. Tab slid forward. She collided with Fontagu and both toppled to the ground. Tab cracked her head on the cobblestones of the laneway, dropping the gem.

When she sat up, rubbing her temple, Fontagu was holding the icefire. It blazed its sepulchral light. ‘Mine!’ he crowed.

‘Your cloak would be nice,’ said Tab, trying to cover herself and thankful for the darkness.

Fontagu blinked, then looked away, unclasping his cloak. Tab wrapped herself in it. Despite everything that had happened, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of rancid dripping.

‘I'll have my ten silver moons now,’ she said. ‘You've got what you wanted.’

Fontagu sniffed, his lip curled. ‘Normally, I would suggest a bath for someone in your condition, but as promised, I will give you something of far greater value than that paltry sum.’

‘That paltry sum will do fine, thank you,’ Tab said, holding out a greasy hand.

‘You can't pocket what I offer,’ said Fontagu. He shook his head. ‘Oh no. What I have is priceless. Advice. Leave the city within the hour. Your life may depend upon it.’

‘Give me what's owing!’ Tab demanded, but Fontagu had turned and bolted from the laneway.

Speechless, Tab stared after him. At the end of the laneway, Fontagu called back over his shoulder. ‘Flee!’ he warned, then hurried from sight.

Tab wanted to scream. She looked down at the useless bracelet he had given her. With a quick tug she yanked it off her wrist and threw it as hard as she could down the alleyway.

In one day she had been kicked out of the orphanage, chased by a troll and promised riches beyond belief. She had robbed the Magicians’ Guild at risk of life and limb and had achieved absolutely nothing for it.

Unbelievable.

‘That's it,’ she said, bridling. ‘I've had enough.’ Tab broke into a run and went after Fontagu.

But when she reached the street, the shyster was nowhere to be seen.

She cursed. How was she to find him in the dark? As though her words had caused it, thick clouds parted and a full moon shone through, bathing the street in silver. That was better, but it still didn't help.

She hurried to the end of the street and looked up and down the cross-junction. Fontagu could have gone either way. It was hopeless.

Hot tears stung her eyes and she sat down on a doorstep. It was still her birthday, but it was the worst birthday she had ever had. She almost managed a smile when she thought back to the morning. There she had been, homeless and destitute… and yet ten times better off than she was now. At least she had had clothes.

Tab sighed. Could things get any worse?

Suddenly she stiffened. She had felt that feathery touch again. Fear flooded her. But before she could react she had another vision, only this one made her feel physically ill: it was as though she was on a storm-tossed ship, but what she saw also made her gasp…

She was high above the Square of Dreams, pitching from side to side in the gusty wind. Even though she was high up, she saw everything on the ground with a startling clarity. And one of the things she saw was Fontagu Wizroth. As she watched, he skirted the night market and slipped into an old abandoned building in one of the alleyways off the Square. A faint hooting, like the noise an owl makes, reached Tab's ears and she saw a horde of magicians sweep across the rooftops of the city, peering down at the streets, their faces stark and angry.

Tab recognised the old slaughter-house Fontagu had entered. It had also had holding pens in years gone by but its owners had fallen on hard times and their business had closed down. A good thing too. Their livestock used to make the streets around there run with dung. She leapt up and ran.