The White Wolf's Son: The Albino Underground Page 19

  “Isn’t there somewhere else—some other … you know … world—where you can go, where things are more or less the same?”

  “I am something of a monster, my dear. Few places on the surface find me acceptable. I must eventually seek either fabled Tanelorn or return to Mu-Ooria and the Off-Moo, who seem to appreciate my company.”

  “Where are we going now?”

  “To find a new gateway to the moonbeam roads, the old one being blocked for us by von Minct’s cruel and bloody sorcery.”

  “What do all these people want from me, Lord Renyard?”

  “They think you can lead them to what they seek.”

  “Which is?”

  “Well, ultimately it amounts to what someone from a pre-Enlightenment culture might describe as power over God and Satan. Whatever you call it, that’s what von Minct and Klosterheim want. Power. Immense power. Power over all the worlds of the universe. What Prince Lobkowitz calls the multiverse, that is, all the versions of all the worlds.”

  “I know what it means,” I said. “I read a lot of comics, and my dad gets Scientific American. What, billions of them?”

  “Oh, billions of billions—we call this quasi-infinity because while it is not an infinite number, we cannot know a finite number.”

  “Why would they want so much power?”

  “To rival God and Satan, as I said.”

  All my family and most of their friends were of a secular disposition, so I was inclined to be amused by the ideas of God and Satan as such. “Isn’t that Satan’s job?” I asked.

  “It was,” said Lord Renyard seriously. “But Satan no longer wished to be God’s rival. He sought and found reconciliation with God. This reconciliation was not in our enemies’ interest. They want, if you like, to take the job Satan renounced. To return to a state of cosmic war.”

  “So if they got what they wanted, they’d rule an infinite number of worlds of evil?”

  “They would not call it evil. They believe that an ideal universe is one in which their priorities are uppermost. It is almost impossible for us to understand. Perhaps someone else can understand them better. They are not like us. They have no self-doubt. They believe that what is best for them is best for everyone. For everything. At least, they think that every ‘normal’ person wants to do what is best for von Minct and Klosterheim. Anyone who disagrees with them or resists them is abnormal and must be reeducated or eliminated. If they have God’s power, they can set the cosmos to rights.”

  “Even though God created it?”

  “Even so.”

  “They’re mad,” I said.

  Lord Renyard laughed at this. “Ah, the directness of children. How I envy you!”

  I found this condescending. “So how are you planning to get them sorted?”

  “We can only oppose them. As effectively as possible. And protect those they would harm.”

  “How on earth could I give them that kind of power?’ I was even more baffled. “I’m a little girl.”

  “A rather brave and clever one,” he said gallantly. I wanted to hug him.

  “But still—”

  “We need to discover what it is you have,” he said quietly. “We do know that the Sword, the Stone and two cups are involved. All the things called ‘objects of power.’”

  Oona and her men were returning through the woods. They carried several game birds. Lord Renyard began to salivate. “Here’s our breakfast,” he said. “I wonder if mine might be a little more underdone …”

  I realized that I was very hungry, too.

  After we’d eaten we packed up and moved on across the hills. It felt like Yorkshire again. I was enjoying the smell of the heather, the glint of the sunlight on limestone, the cool shade of the woods. Hunting hawks sailed high above us. Every so often we passed streams and groves of wildflowers. I began to hope we might already be on our way home.

  I had to give up that idea when we reached a well-trodden road and saw an old-fashioned coach drawn by six black horses, pounding along at a dangerous speed, with its driver cracking a whip and yelling at the top of his lungs. I recognized the crest on the coach’s door. It belonged to the Sebastocrater and must have come from Mirenburg. It went past too fast for us to catch up or see who was in it. If it was Klosterheim and von Minct, they might have seen us. Prince Lobkowitz frowned. “That’s the Munich road,” he said.

  “How long will it take them to reach the city?” asked Lieutenant Fromental.

  “Another three days if they can get changes of horses.”

  “Must we follow them?”

  “Of course not,” said Oona. “Our first duty is to protect the child. In doing that we shall also thwart their plans.”

  “So which way should we go?”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know, but we should try to get home before this gets any worse.”

  “That would be my preference,” I said.

  One of the Kakatanawa who had been scouting ahead of us on the other side of the hill came running back. He spoke rapidly to Oona, who shook her head in disbelief. Then she and the others followed the Indian. I ran after them.

  We stood looking down on a pleasant valley with a stream running through it and a few cows grazing. Nestled between a small copse of elder trees and may bushes was a house.

  The others did not know what it was, but I did. So did Lord Renyard. He put his large, warm paw on my shoulder. He could probably tell how frightened I was.

  The house was the twin of the one I had first “met” in Mirenburg. With blinds down and shutters closed, it had the appearance of being asleep.

  “This could be good news, you know,” murmured the fox. “Mrs. House is not your enemy.” His tone was reassuring, but I could sense he was as mystified as I was.

  “How could it—she—get here from there?” I asked.

  “Well, first you should consider that the same builder put up more than one house of the same type, mademoiselle,” he suggested gently, as if preparing me for disappointment.

  “No, it’s the same,” I said. “Same windows, doors, blinds, slates, chimneys. Same patches on the walls. It’s her face, all right.”

  “Her?” Prince Lobkowitz came to look down at the house with us. “Face?”

  Lieutenant Fromental fingered his prominent chin. “I’ve always thought of houses as having faces, too.” He chuckled at his own whimsical imagination. “What children we are, eh?”

  “I am one,” I said. “And that house does have a face. That’s Mrs. House, I’m certain.”

  “Mrs. House?” Oona drew her brows together as if summoning an old memory. She brought her Kakatanawa to a halt. The tall, bronze-colored men murmured among themselves, occasionally laughing. They were as surprised as the rest of us at finding such an old, seemingly well established house in this countryside.

  “Mrs. House—should it indeed be her—is an old friend of mine,” explained Lord Renyard. “The little mademoiselle also met her before.”

  “She’s the one who mentioned the Staff and the Stone,” I said. “And talked about the blind boy. It was all a bit vague, but I’m pretty sure that’s what she was saying. That’s why I was asking you those questions.”

  “Someone you met inside the house?” asked the burly legionnaire. His big face frowned, as if he did not quite understand what was being said.

  “No,” said Prince Lobkowitz patiently. “You mean the house herself, do you not, Miss Oonagh?”

  “That’s what I mean,” I said. “That’s what I remember.”

  As we continued to approach her, Mrs. House opened her eyes.

  The effect on my friends, apart from Lord Renyard, was almost comical. They came to a stumbling stop. The door, which was Mrs. House’s mouth, moved. Her rich, slightly echoing voice sounded through the valley.

  “Ah, it’s good to see you’re still safe, dear girl. You escaped the floods, as did I. I knew in my bones I would soon be on the move again, but I did not think the journey would occur so soon—a
nd what’s more, under threat of flooding. It’s folk with basements I feel sorry for. I know Lord Renyard, of course, but I haven’t had the pleasure of being introduced to these others.”

  Stammering, as I had done originally, I introduced my friends. All, including the Kakatanawa, returned respectful greetings.

  “Hmm,” declared Mrs. House, turning her smoky eyes towards Oona, “the famous dreamthief’s daughter. I heard you were retired.”

  “So I thought, my lady,” said Oona. “But circumstances dictate—”

  “Explain no more. Circumstances dictate most of our recent actions. I understand. And you, little girl?” she returned her attention to me. “Did you come by the Staff or the Sword yet?”

  “Not yet, madam.”

  “No blind boy?”

  “Almost, but …” I shook my head. “I found him, then lost him again.”

  She sighed. “Time falls away. Falls away. You must try harder.”

  I found myself smiling. I liked Mrs. House better since she had left Mirenburg. I wasn’t sure why. “I’m not sure how.”

  “My girl, sometimes we must give Fate a nudge in the right direction.”

  “Do you know the right direction, ma’am?”

  “Well, I suppose I do. I have some experience in these matters. I’m not sure I’d say it was exactly the right direction. Where are you off to now?”

  Most of my party were pretty stunned by this dialogue. I tried to explain a bit more, admitting I didn’t have the faintest idea where we were going. After I’d done my best, I added, “So you see, we’re escaping from Mirenburg, like you, and have no clear idea where we’re going. I’d like to get home, of course, as soon as possible …”

  “Our gateway was blocked by the flood,” Oona told her. “But you think we should have found the Staff there, do you?”

  “The Staff preserves itself. That is its essence. If it was in Mirenburg when the flood came, it would not be there now.”

  The Kakatanawa had seated themselves in a row and were regarding Mrs. House with some respect while Prince Lobkowitz puzzled and Lieutenant Fromental scowled thoughtfully, as if they might, by concentration, come up with a logical explanation for the phenomenon.

  From the heights above came the sound of a familiar voice. Turning, we saw the outlines of Herr Klosterheim and Gaynor von Minct, and they had a small army of cutthroats with them. Men with dark olive skins, wide-brimmed hats, bandoliers of cartridges and big boots, so evidently mountain brigands that we did not need to see their brandished pistols and muskets to know who they were. They lined both sides of the valley and had crept closer to us while we talked to Mrs. House.

  “You’ll note that we have you covered,” called Gaynor von Minct in a mocking voice. “It would be unfortunate should you resist us and harm come to the young lady.”

  “I’m a fool,” said Oona through her teeth. She looked from one end of the valley to the other, unable to find decent cover. “I should have guessed they’d find help and return after they saw us on the road.”

  At a word from her, the Kakatanawa rose and surrounded me. Prince Lobkowitz, Lord Renyard and Lieutenant Fromental laid their hands on their weapons.

  “Any bloodshed will be unnecessary.” Von Minct and Klosterheim were now astride large horses. They came cantering down the slope towards us.

  Oona whispered to me: “You might have a chance if you could get into that—house—somehow. Is that possible?”

  Mrs. House’s voice spoke softly from behind us. “You might all have a chance if you came inside. The door is open. All you have to do is step into me, you know.”

  For a moment I wondered what the consequences might be. Then I had backed towards her mouth, her door, and skipped inside. It was cool in her dark hall, but the vivid floral wallpaper was comforting and it was only a little damp, rather as if I stood in someone’s throat. Quickly the others all tumbled in after me. I looked to one side and saw another door. A few more steps, and I was in a pleasantly furnished front parlor. There was richly colored William Morris paper on the walls, big easy chairs with Victorian floral prints, a lovely old horsehair sofa matching the chairs, even a potted aspidistra. Carpets were also floral, including that which covered the stairs, disappearing up into comfortable darkness. I was soon joined by Oona, some rather baffled Indians and my other three friends.

  “This is most unusual,” said Prince Lobkowitz, walking over the soft, yielding carpet to part the dark velvet curtains and look out at our pursuers. They were still standing there. They had clearly not decided what action, if any, to take. They looked, every one of them, dumbfounded.

  “I rarely have guests these days,” said Mrs. House from somewhere. “People have poor manners and can be so destructive. But I suppose I have little choice in the circumstances. You had best leave by the back door, as soon as you get the opportunity.”

  Outside, the brigands were approaching cautiously. Klosterheim and von Minct stood with pistols in their hands, looking up at the windows.

  Quite suddenly the scene changed subtly. The landscape was almost identical, but our enemies were no longer there, and the trees in the copse looked slightly different.

  “It has been quite a while since I have done something like this,” said Mrs. House. “I’m afraid you will have to forgive me for any mistakes.” I almost thought I heard her giggle to herself.

  The landscape changed again. And again. Trees and shrubs appeared. Rocks were differently placed. “I have no very clear idea where I’m going, my dear,” came Mrs. House’s rather exhilarated voice from the roof. “But it seemed wiser not to wait until those violent men tried to come in as well. I have always disliked violence, haven’t you? And I never look forward to repainting afterwards.”

  Once again the scene outside changed.

  “She’s moving through the multiverse,” whispered Prince Lobkowitz. “She’s taking us to safety.”

  “Are we going home, Mrs. House?” I asked.

  “We are escaping from danger, my dear,” she replied. “I can promise you nothing else for the moment.”

  “We’re grateful,” said Oona. “But do you know where we are?”

  “I do not move with any direction in mind, I must admit,” said Mrs. House. “Just through time and space. As I always do when threatened. But I believe I will bring you a little closer to the blind boy. Or so my seventh sense suggests.”

  My friends were obviously disappointed, even though they were relieved for the moment to be out of harm’s way. “By the back door,” Mrs. House reminded us as we prepared to leave. “To be on the safe side. You never know who’s watching.”

  “Is it the back door to the past and by the front to the future?” asked Lieutenant Fromental, with some curiosity.

  “Quite often,” replied Mrs. House. “Good-bye, all of you. I hope you stay safe and well. Keep looking for the blind boy. He will be expecting you now, dear.”

  Some of the others were already through the door. “Where shall I look?” I asked.

  “Where you’ve looked before,” she said. “Where blind boys work.”

  At these references to the blind boy, my friends grew alert. Significant looks passed between them. They were at once puzzled and suddenly keyed up.

  “I’ve been trying to tell you,” I said.

  Prince Lobkowitz made as if to speak to me, then changed his mind. Instead, he uttered a long, deep sigh. He laid a hand on my shoulder.

  The sun was setting behind the hills. Large-winged birds as big as cranes sailed against the crimson light. It was getting colder.

  There was now a deep, green wood at the back of Mrs. House. Reluctantly I left her strange embrace and stepped out of the door. It creaked as I left, almost a human voice. Cautiously we entered the peaceful gloom of the trees, walking slowly in single file. When I next looked back, Mrs. House was out of sight. She had saved us from our worst enemies, but I felt in my bones she would not be able to help us again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN r />
  DARKNESS CAME BEFORE Oona decided it was safe to stop and make camp. Her Kakatanawa still had plenty of game in their bags, so we ate well before we were ready to sleep. I curled up with Lord Renyard, who removed his elaborate jacket, waistcoat and shirt and allowed me to cuddle against his ample red fur. I don’t think I’ve ever known anything as soft! I slept better than I had since I had first found myself underground.

  We woke in the morning to the smell of a fresh fire and roasting meat. I felt far more relaxed and certain of seeing my mum and dad again. Lord Renyard’s protective paws had kept me safe and warm, and the soft sound of his breathing had made me feel almost like a baby. I smiled at everyone and even got responses from the normally laconic and stern Kakatanawa.

  We were camped on a hillside near a freshwater spring bubbling out of the ground to form a stream and run over rocks to join a river in the valley below. The trees were in their first full leaf of summer, and the whole of the hillside bloomed with blue, yellow, red and purple wildflowers like a brightly colored map. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many flowers together in one place. In the valley were copses of dark green oaks and cedars casting dawn shadows. The pale blue sky flushed with gold as the sun rose, and a single large hawk hovered overhead, to the consternation of thrushes, blackbirds and finches. The place was idyllic, a fairyland. The sense of security was all-prevailing.

  Prince Lobkowitz whistled as he dressed himself. Lieutenant Fromental buttoned up his rather battered uniform jacket and glowed with the pleasure of his cold dip in the river.

  “All we need to do now,” Oona said, “is to find out where we are and then see if we can discover a town where we can make a fresh orientation.”

  “We could be anywhere in the multiverse,” said Lieutenant Fromental. “Even in a world where humans do not exist at all. We might have to begin our species all over again …”

  Lord Renyard remarked that this would be rather difficult for him. As it was, he had abandoned one of the best libraries in Europe, with many first editions of the finest Encyclopedists, some personally signed to himself. He was not sure that he could remember every single word they had written, though he had memorized Corneille and several of Voltaire’s shorter works. Lieutenant Fromental admitted that Lord Renyard was indeed the best-read gentleman he had ever met. “You would have to tell everything you know to our children!”