The Hunting of the Princes Read online

  ‘Didn’t he wear armour?’ Taggie asked.

  ‘Of course. But he was riding his pegasi at the time, a winged horse favoured in our Realm for hunting. He was a thousand feet in the air when the assassin’s bolt struck.’

  ‘Assassin?’ Taggie said in shock. All she could think of was the girl in black biking leathers.

  ‘We believe so, yes. But there is more bad news. Just as Prince Rogreth’s body was brought home, we heard from the Sixth Realm. Prince Fasla, the heir to the throne there, was also murdered by an unknown person who escaped.’

  The hall fell silent, with everyone staring at Lady Jessicara in dismay.

  ‘Have you heard from any other Realms?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Several,’ Lady Jessicara said. ‘So far, the remaining heirs appear to be safe. But two have been killed, and you yourself, Queen of Dreams, only just escaped assassination. It is becoming clear to us that the Karrak Lords and Ladies are hunting down the princes in every Realm, knowing the young royals with their openness and freedoms are more vulnerable than the kings and queens themselves who are surrounded by the trappings of state. What they can never take by force, they attempt to steal by treachery.’

  ‘Well they won’t succeed here,’ Mum said resolutely.

  ‘King Manokol was gladdened to hear your assassin was thwarted,’ Lady Jessicara said. ‘As were all of us in the Second Realm. Since last year, you have become a source of courage and resolution to all people within the Realms, Queen of Dreams. By your example of reclaiming the shell throne you have shown all of us that the Karraks will never triumph.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Taggie murmured, somewhat abashed. ‘But it’s not like I did it alone.’

  Lady Jessicara appeared not to hear that last part. ‘I am here to extend an invitation from King Manokol to attend a Gathering of Kings in our capital, Shatha’hal. The leader of every Realm will join in conclave to decide how to meet this dire threat to our sovereignty.’

  Taggie shot a glance at Mr Anatole, then Dad. Both of them inclined their heads.

  ‘I thank King Manokol,’ Taggie said formally. ‘And I will attend the Gathering of Kings.’ She paused. ‘And Queens.’

  The envoy never blinked. ‘We thank you for your support, Queen of Dreams. Your presence will undoubtedly make the Gathering a success.’

  THE JEWEL OF THE REALMS

  The royal yacht was nearly thirty metres long, with two imperial purple sails rolled up tight on their cross masts. The golden figurehead was some kind of fish with wings, twice the size of a man. There was a cabin at the back – not that Taggie and her party used it. Twenty trolls sat in the midsection, rowing with huge oars.

  They cast off from the royal wharf at dawn the following day, keeping the sails furled so the trolls rowed them steadily down the river Trambor. By mid-morning they’d reached the coast at Shieldport. An island made up from two tall mountains was just visible ahead, where the sea began to curve upward, both peaks hazed in white mist.

  ‘That’s the Great Gateway, Harrolas,’ Mr Anatole said. He was standing on the decking up at the prow, next to Taggie and Sophie. She couldn’t help noticing now they were on the sea itself how he kept a white-knuckle grip on the gunwale. His red skin was turning a strange purple shade as cold sweat prickled his brow. ‘It connects to the Second Realm.’

  ‘It’s on the island?’ she asked.

  ‘Not quite. Excuse me, Majesty.’ He hurried along the deck to the aft cabin.

  Taggie watched Felix scamper up the rigging to the top of the mast, and sit down comfortably on the furled sail, his fluffy white tail curling round the canvas. Behind her, the trolls began to row faster, propelling the yacht quickly across the sea.

  ‘Thanks for including me,’ Sophie said.

  Taggie smiled back at her friend as the sound of poor Mr Anatole being ill could be heard. ‘I have to have someone I can talk to,’ she told her friend, giving Lady Jessicara’s back a guilty glance.

  The rest of the royal party consisted of Jem, of course; a detachment of the palace guard; and Mum. There had been quite an argument, but in the end Dad conceded that he should stay behind and carry on the duty of regent governor. After all, if the assassin made another attempt on Taggie, she would be up against Mum’s magical strength as well.

  Jemima had her arm round one of the figurehead’s odd wings, leaning forward into the spray with growing excitement as they neared the island with its twin peaks. She didn’t even look round when Felix scampered up to the top of the figurehead, and held on to its neck with a forepaw.

  ‘Where’s the Great Gateway?’ Jemima asked.

  ‘Just up ahead,’ Felix said. ‘Between the two headlands, there.’ A forepaw pointed, a small claw extending. Jemima could just make out the tall cliffs on either side of a narrow inlet. It was directly below the valley formed by the two mountains. When she closed her eyes and concentrated in that specific odd way she’d come to learn, her sight showed her a tremendous waterfall at the end of the inlet. ‘Cool,’ she crooned. ‘Is this the one you’ve been through?’

  ‘Yes. It is widely used by trading ships. Those whose captains have courage, anyway.’

  ‘I wish I could go to other Realms like you did,’Jemima said wistfully. ‘It’s so exciting.’

  ‘Apart from the Outer Realm, of course, I’ve only been to the Second and Fifth Realms,’ Felix said. ‘And both times it was a duty. I have never been a tourist anywhere.’

  ‘Can’t you take time off? It’s not like you haven’t earned it.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’d trust anyone else to look after you. And there are assassins around right now.’

  ‘I’m a seer. I can see any trouble coming a mile off,’ Jemima said proudly.

  ‘Except your own death,’ Felix reminded her. ‘Seers can never see that. And you can’t see everything that happens . . .’

  ‘Oh, thanks a bunch, Felix. I needed to hear that today!’

  ‘This crisis will pass, never fear.’

  ‘I know. And when it does, I’m going to visit all the Realms,’Jemima announced. ‘And you’ll have to come too, because it’s your duty to accompany me. So!’

  The squirrel’s teeth chattered for a moment. ‘Some duties you just have to accept without complaint.’

  Jemima grinned at him, before turning back to the headlands.

  The trolls rowed onward, never slowing. Rock rose up on either side of the yacht until the rugged cliffs towered high above them, blotting out most of the light. That was when they heard the roar of the waterfall swelling out. It was half obscured by mist, but soon they could see the massive curtain of water falling over two hundred metres, filling the chasm between the cliffs.

  Lady Jessicara came up to stand beside Jemima, her blonde hair and airborne cloak billowing dramatically behind her. By then the roar of the waterfall was so loud that Jemima could barely hear anything.

  ‘By order of His Fabulous Majesty, King Manokol, Absolute Ruler of the Second Realm,’ Lady Jessicara shouted into the waterfall’s driving spray, ‘I command you to give me safe passage home.’ She threw a few small copper coins into the sea.

  Jemima thought the envoy could perhaps be a little less cheap when it came to asking a Great Gateway to open. So she added, ‘Please, Harrolas,’ even though nobody could hear her.

  The prow of the yacht was barely twenty metres from the falling water, and still surging forward when a gap appeared in the colossal downpour. It widened as the gold figurehead reached it, parting just enough to take the width of the royal yacht. Jemima gasped; she could see nothing but absolute blackness beyond, as if there truly was a wall of solid rock. Which if they hit at this speed . . .

  Then amid the darkness she saw a tiny twinkle of blue light, like a star winking. It was directed at her alone – she knew. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed to the Great Gateway.

  The yacht passed into the impenetrable shadows. Then almost immediately the prow was again surging through a wide breach in a waterfall. They r
owed out into a long fjord, whose rocky sides were almost as tall as the ones they’d just left behind in the First Realm.

  Here in the Second Realm the sun burned with a blue-white brilliance that Jemima had to shield her eyes from. And the land didn’t curve up into a sphere as it did in the First Realm. The royal yacht left the fjord behind and rowed along the coast for several miles until it reached a vast estuary, over four miles wide. There were towns on both sides, with dozens of quays lining the banks. Buildings were made from a yellow stone, without any sharp edges; even the roofs were domes or arches.

  ‘These are fishing towns,’ Felix told Jemima as the yacht began to sail upstream, moving amid flotillas of smaller boats. ‘And this is the river Zhila. It will take us directly to the capital.’

  ‘Shatha’hal itself,’ Lady Jessicara said proudly. ‘Blossom Princess, you are soon to see the jewel of all Realms.’

  The land on either side of the Zhila flattened out. Tall palm trees lined straight roads. Groves of trees separated by long irrigation canals stretched away into the distance.

  The sun was so fierce that Jemima had to put on a floppy wide-brimmed straw hat. White canvas awnings were unfolded over the trolls to protect them from the heat as they continued their smooth strokes.

  After an hour, mountains were rising out of the ochre landscape on either side of the Zhila. The farms gave way to raw desert, and still the royal yacht rowed on. They weren’t the only boat on the river. Skiffs full of fruit were sailing along with them, fishing dinghies bobbed about. There were also sleek four-masted pleasure yachts slicing cleanly through the sparkling water, whose owners were clearly very rich. There were other craft, too: odd metal cylinders without sails that churned up a furious wake as they zipped about.

  ‘How do they work?’ Jemima asked. ‘I thought it was only the Outer Realm that had engines.’

  ‘Anamage contrivances,’ Felix said, studying the metal boats with something approaching envy. ‘They’ll have artificial tails or some such under the water. I’ve seen them in the harbour.’

  Jemima watched them keenly; it was the first display of anamage magic she’d seen. It seemed such a wonderful ability, the power to make inanimate objects move as you wanted.

  On either side of the Zhila the mountains grew taller. Then Jemima noticed dark shapes up ahead wobbling in the heat-haze that covered the sand. She frowned, her sight revealing glimpses of the city hidden by the boiling air.

  ‘That can’t be right,’ she murmured.

  But it was. The trolls rowed them into a curving network of canals that flowered out from the main river. Around the ribbons of still water the elusive shapes of the city of Shatha’hal grew solid as they approached. Shatha’hal comprised seven gigantic buildings spread out across a stretch of irrigated desert. The two structures at the perimeter of the canal network were stone cubes a mile high with twisted edges as if they had slowly wound up out of the desert bedrock. Twenty colossal archways were cut into each side, stacked one above the other, granting glimpses of vast internal caverns. Then there was the tower, a white-marble cylinder ringed by a thousand garden balconies, that flared out to an elaborate onion-shape spire at the summit. In front of it were three spheres, measuring a good half-mile in diameter, arranged in a triangular formation. Their smooth surfaces were bejewelled with a million windows, while each had five river-sized waterfalls gushing from their equators, to cascade into lakes on the ground below. But most amazing of all was the building at the centre of the spheres. The heart of Shatha’hal was a colossal pyramid. But this pyramid sat upside down so its tip was the part that rested on the ground, presenting a massive square roof to the bright sky. Jemima’s sight showed her the upper surface was covered in lush parkland vegetation, complete with deep pools, meandering streams, and pretty pavilions.

  ‘Oh wow,’ Jemima gasped. ‘Why doesn’t it fall over?’

  ‘Because we built it not to, of course,’ Lady Jessicara announced smugly.

  ‘I had forgotten how extraordinary this city is,’ Mum said in a subdued voice.

  ‘You’ve been here before?’ a dazed Taggie asked. She was so awed by the city she even forgot Lady Jessicara’s pompous attitude for a moment.

  Mum nodded. ‘A long, long time ago. The Regent House Academy of Sorceresses ran an exchange scheme with the Royal Society of Anamages.’

  The canal ran right to the bottom of the pyramid. As they passed into the vast shadow cast by the pyramid above them, Jemima realized the water was now being carried by an aqueduct, which curved gently up on its supporting arches until it was rising vertically into a gaping maw in the side of the pyramid a hundred metres above the ground. Oddly the water didn’t seem to be gushing down, it was as calm as the rest of the canal. Jemima saw some boats sliding casually along it – or rather up it – seemingly with no trouble. ‘Oh, triple wow,’ she gulped.

  Sure enough, the trolls rowed the yacht along the aqueduct’s upward curve as if it was the universe’s slowest ever rollercoaster track. But for Jemima and everyone in it, the yacht still felt as if it was perfectly horizontal. Within a minute they were sliding up the vertical canal, and into the pyramid.

  Inside, the pyramid was divided into eight levels, with amphitheatre walls of houses and shops and studios and public halls overlooking the main plaza floor that surrounded the massive central sunlight well. Every terrace’s road thronged with people.

  There were four aqueducts rising up through the interior around the edge of the sunlight shaft. Boats followed the yacht upward, and several slid down the other way. The yacht rowed up to the eighth level and turned on to a small aqueduct that twisted round to take them into the harbour pool of the pyramid’s topmost and largest amphitheatre. The circumference was a wall of grandiose mansions and palaces, with the royal palace directly in front of the harbour pool.

  ‘Uh-oh.’ Jemima nudged Taggie. ‘You’re on.’

  The largest mooring pier in the harbour pool was packed with solemn dignitaries. Behind them, gathered around the edge of the pool, a crowd of many thousands had gathered to see the famous Queen of Dreams, the terrifying warrior girl who had defeated the Karrak Lords.

  Taggie stepped forward as the yacht pulled alongside the pier. She had changed into her arrival costume: a desert-style robe of bright white-and-blue cloth, one of a dozen that they’d hurriedly commissioned from Lorothain dressmakers. Finally she was dressed as smartly as Lady Jessicara.

  King Manokol was at the head of the reception line. Taggie thought he looked terribly sad: a big man with a flowing beard, but who lacked any kind of joy. His wife, Queen Danise, was by his side, clad in mourning black. They were holding hands, drawing comfort from each other, but there was no hiding their sorrow.

  As Taggie stepped on to the pier, a huge cheer went up. The crowd began waving, and colourful magic stars zipped through the air; some strange-sounding horns were blown loudly, adding to the din. She noticed a flock of odd little birds whizzing about above her. Except they weren’t birds, she realized, not real ones. They were wonderfully made models, with slender bodies crafted from brass wire and sprouting colourful paper wings.

  ‘Careful,’ Felix warned. ‘What the seespy birds see, so do their owners. And they’re all looking at you.’

  Taggie immediately straightened her back, becoming very self-conscious.

  King Manokol gathered himself with an effort. ‘Welcome, most sweetest Queen of Dreams,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, my most gracious host, King Manokol,’ she replied formally, as Mr Anatole had tutored her. ‘I am honoured to finally be here in Shatha’hal, truly the jewel of all the Realms.’

  At that the crowd gave another huge cheer. Taggie couldn’t help waving at them despite the solemnity of the occasion. The cheer became even louder. Behind the King, his courtiers maintained their fixed smiles; none of them, it seemed, had anticipated how popular the Queen of Dreams would prove.

  ‘Your pardon if I do not attend to you personally during your stay,
’ the King said. ‘I have many guests, and I still mourn my beautiful son.’

  ‘I understand,’ Taggie said. She took his trembling hand, worried that he was about to start crying at the mention of Rogreth. ‘If I could dream for you and ease your suffering, I would. Perhaps, sometime, you would care to visit the First Realm where I have that power.’

  ‘You are most kind, my dear.’ His voice became stern. ‘But I will never lessen the pain, nor with it the memory. I will not lose purpose, for that is the hole they plot and scheme for me to fall into. You too, if you are not on your guard.’

  ‘I will watch for the Karraks, fear not,’ she said, feeling that this was what he needed to hear.

  ‘You beat them once,’ the King said. ‘How the Realms rejoiced with that news. And now you are become our hope and inspiration, Queen of Dreams. How we pray a thousand – ten thousand – Karraks will soon burn in the same hellish light you unleashed upon them in the First Realm’

  ‘Of course,’ Taggie said uncomfortably.

  The King gave her a sad smile. ‘I have charged my second son, the Prince Lantic, to attend to your needs before the Gathering of Kings.’

  ‘And Queens,’ Taggie said levelly.

  ‘And Queens,’ he agreed. Then he frowned and looked round. ‘Lantic? Confound it, boy, where are you?’

  ‘Here, Father,’ a wheezing voice said. The courtiers parted to allow a gangling boy through. At his appearance, the noise from the crowd finally started to ebb away.

  Taggie guessed he was no more than a year or two older than her. His dark hair was stringy, and hadn’t been cut for a while so it flopped over his eyes. The black tunic he wore obviously belonged to someone else, someone taller and broader; it would have been smart if it had been new, or even fitted. From the way he refused to look up and meet Taggie’s gaze, it was clear he wanted to be anywhere else but here. She felt a burst of sympathy for him.