TWO 
NICK
I knew we were there when I saw Romanov’s spotted cat. The way she twitched just the end of her tail at us was positively jeering, but I was too relieved to care. I just felt a moment of great regret that I couldn’t have my black panther waiting about outside my home world in the same way, and then we were on Romanov’s island. I’d never been so glad of anything in my life. Those islands were amazing, but they were also scary. Roddy looked awful, ready to faint. She knew better than the kids what a horrible, risky thing we had just done.
The Izzys kept squawking about why were the sea and the sky in stripes. I bent down and undid the chain from Helga’s neck. “Oh, do shut up,” I said as the goat went trotting away over the hilltop. “This place is made of a lot of different places, that’s all.”
“You ought to be nice to us,” one of them said. “We saved you from the fat man.”
I didn’t answer. It had suddenly occurred to me—almost like an inspiration—why that goat had taken us to that library in the Plantagenate world. Maxwell Hyde had been there, that was why! And that goat thought the sun shone out of Maxwell Hyde’s fundament (as my dad would say), so she had gone there to look for him.
“Answer me!” snapped one Izzy. “Speak to us, Nick!” cooed the other one.
“Fleas,” Roddy said, loudly and violently.
The twins gave a gasp of terror. It may have been because of this strange thing Roddy said, but I think it was more because Mini came trampling over the top of the hill just then, with her ears spread and her trunk eagerly stretched out. I’d forgotten how big she was. In fact she seemed huger than I remembered, and gnarlier, and more positive somehow. The Izzys screamed and ran away in two directions. Roddy sat down as if her legs had given way, and Grundo and Toby sort of dodged in behind her. But Mini took no notice. She lumbered straight up to me and stopped, with her legs trampling excitedly and her trunk sort of feeling at me, this way and that, over my face and my front and my sides, like an eager gray snake.
“Nick!” she said. “It really is you! I’ve missed you so much!”
I got in under her trunk and between her tusks—they had smart new golden bands round them that looked magical in some way—and hugged as much of her face as I could reach. “I’ve missed you, too, Mini,” I said out loud. “Like being homesick for you.”
Her trunk curled round my shoulders. It was like a hug. “Me, too!” she told me. “I waited and waited, all these ten years!”
“Ten years?” I said.
“It is,” she said. “I counted. Last time I saw you was when I’d eaten all those apples. After you went, Romanov had to use some of his magic to make me better. And that was ten years ago now.”
I could still hardly believe it. “You really had ten years here? It’s only been about three weeks for me.” This explained why Mini seemed so much bigger. When I first met her, she must have been quite a young elephant, and she was full grown now.
Behind me, Toby and Grundo were discussing us. “That elephant’s really talking to him,” Toby observed.
“Yes,” Grundo answered. “She’s got a voice like a plummy old aunt, but I can’t quite hear the words. Can you?”
“Who are those sober, intellectual boys?” Mini asked me.
This made me giggle. There were times when Toby and Grundo were like two old men. I turned round and introduced everyone. “This is Mini,” I said, “my favorite elephant. Mini, that’s Toby, this is Grundo, and Roddy’s the girl on the grass. The twins over there are Isadora and Ilsabil, but don’t ask me which is which.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mini said, politely swinging her trunk.
This made the Izzys start backward dramatically, but Roddy got up and said, “Pleased to meet you, Mini.” So all the girls could understand Mini. Interesting.
“Is Romanov here?” I asked.
“Yes, he’s just got back from somewhere,” Mini said. “He’s in the house.”
We all went over the hill together and down toward the house. It looked splendidly well kept now, made of pale wood and crisp blue stonework, with wide windows. The goat was outside the smart white front door, in a huddle of hens, bleating fit to burst. As we arrived, Romanov came out, wiping his face on a towel, to see what was the matter. We all stopped, and Roddy murmured, “I see what you meant now.” It was the effect Romanov had. He was at full power. He fair sizzled with it. Otherwise he looked just the same, a lean and energetic dark zigzag, and not at all as if ten years had passed.
“You again,” he said to me. It was flat and unwelcoming. “I dreamed ten years ago that you came back with a crowd of children.”
“When you were ill,” I said. “That may have colored your dreams. We need help—”
The goat was butting at Romanov and stamping and bleating. “Just a moment,” he said. He put both hands to Helga’s head. After a second he moved them along her sides. “Oh, you are in trouble,” he said to her, “but it’s all right now.” He took her by one horn and started to lead her away along the house.
“What’s the matter with her?” I said.
“She’s in labor,” Romanov said over his shoulder. “Going to have her kids any moment. You feed the hens for me, will you, while I get her bedded down in the shed. The rest of you go indoors and help yourselves to a drink in the kitchen.”
The Izzys clasped their hands and looked ecstatic. “Baby goats!” said one. “We’re coming to watch!” said the other.
Romanov looked back at them out of one eye in his zigzag profile. “No,” he said.
That was all. But it shut the Izzys up completely. They turned and followed Roddy into the house, as good as gold.
I went along to the shed, and Mini sauntered companionably beside me. Then she stood watching while I gave the hens their corn. One of her back legs began to rub up the other. I took the hint and made the shed provide elephant food, too. Really, I might never have been away, I felt so much at home here. I could hear Romanov in the next shed, heaving straw about and talking soothingly to Helga. I felt the fizz of him setting some kind of magic on her, too, probably to ease the birth for her. This is the life! I thought. But Romanov was obviously going to be quite a time with Helga, so I went back to the house.
The kitchen was all airy and wide and up-to-date this time. About the only thing in it that I remembered was the big wooden table. When I got there, Toby and Grundo were busily finding interesting food and drink in the refrigerator, and Roddy was going on at the Izzys.
“If either of you little beasts says one more thing to upset Grundo,” she was saying, “I shall do something so bad that you won’t know what’s hit you!”
Grundo didn’t seem upset to me. He was putting armfuls of potted puddings on the table, and the expression on his face was one of greedy joy. Nor did the Izzys look to be upsetting him. They were seizing puddings as they arrived and stacking them in two heaps, one for the kind they knew they liked, and the other for the kind they’d never seen before but hoped to get to like shortly. Behaving like normal girls for once, I thought. But that was Roddy for you. She’d just had a bad experience, and her reaction to any sort of upset was to fuss about Grundo.
“And don’t eat all the good kinds,” Roddy scolded. “Grundo’s entitled to eat a sweet he enjoys, too. And Toby,” she added as an afterthought.
“Roddy,” I said, “aren’t you entitled to something you like yourself? Or is it all for Grundo?”
A mistake. Her face flooded pink-red, her eyes flashed like dark stars, and she whirled round on me. I’d have been in trouble then if Romanov hadn’t come quietly up behind me. “One moment,” he said. “Something’s wrong here.”
We all jumped, because we hadn’t heard him come in, and stared nervously at him. He looked, very intently and keenly, from one to another of us. Toby said, scared but brave, “Is the goat all right?”
“Yes,” Romanov said. “She wants to be left to do it by herself.” And he continued looking from face to face—except that by this time he was darting his look between Roddy and Grundo. Roddy seemed plain puzzled. But Grundo, the fourth or fifth time that look stabbed at him, shifted from foot to foot and began to color up, in blotches between his freckles, until he almost seemed as if he had measles. “Are you going to tell us what you’re doing or shall I?” Romanov asked him, in a cutting, conversational way.
Grundo’s lips seemed to stick together for a moment. He worked them loose and said in a gluey sort of grunt, “I—I will.”
“Go on, then,” Romanov said, flat and unfriendly.
“I—I—” Grundo went.
“He’s not doing anything,” Roddy interrupted. “Don’t pick on him.”
Grundo shot her a wretched look. “Yes, I am,” he admitted. “I’ve done it ever since I was three years old. I—I put a glamour on you to make you—you love me and—and look after me above everyone else.”
“But that was just because you were little and lonely then,” Roddy protested quickly.
Grundo shook his head. “Not now. I do it all the time now, because—well, it’s easier. You can read for me and help me with lessons and do magic for me that isn’t back to front. And then I don’t have to try.”
“Laziness, in fact,” Romanov said flatly.
Grundo nodded, looking so dismal that I swear even his nose drooped. “I’d better take it off now, hadn’t I?” he grunted. Groaned, really.
“Yes,” said Romanov. “If it’s any comfort to you, I had back-to-front problems, too, as a boy. It only takes a month or so of real effort to learn to work with it. After that you find you can do things rather better than most other people because they haven’t had to try and you have.”
Roddy by this time was so pale that she was sort of dough-colored. “No!” she more or less screamed. “This isn’t true! You’re taking away the foundation of my life!”
Romanov shrugged. Grundo stuck his bottom lip out and said, “It is true. Sorry.”
At this Roddy shouted out a great yell of despair and went rushing out of the kitchen and out of the house. As the front door banged, Romanov gave me a curt nod and jerked his head at the door, meaning go after her. I stared at him for a second. It seemed to me that when someone’s just discovered they’ve been living a lie, the last thing they want is me on top of it. But Romanov gave me an even fiercer jerk of the head, and I went.
Roddy was standing with her back to me, halfway up the slope to the garden. Mini was beyond her, beside the garden wall, with her trunk drifting wistfully toward the fruit trees inside. She was doing her embarrassed leg rubbing. “This girl seems awfully unhappy,” she said to me.
“She is,” I said.
Roddy spun round and saw me. “Go away!”
“In a bit,” I said. “Tell me about it first.”
“I can’t!” Roddy stood with her face up. Her hands were clenched, and her eyes were shut and oozing tears. Then she told me anyway. She obviously just had to tell someone. “Most of the time I’ve been alive,” she said, “it’s been a—an established fact that I cared for Grundo and looked after him … and defended him from his awful mother and sister as well. That made me better than Sybil and Alicia, you see. I’ve always thought of myself as a nice, loving, kind person. But now it turns out that Grundo was making me care for him, this means I’m not like that at all. I don’t know what I’m like. I could be as vile and selfish as everyone else at Court for all I know! Don’t you see? It’s as if the world I thought I knew has suddenly turned out to be make-believe. Nothing seems to be valuable anymore!”
“Yes, I see,” I said. “And I’m almost impressed with that kid Grundo. He must be the only person in the multiverse who’s more selfish than I am. But don’t you think you might have liked him anyhow?”
She said, in a creaking, hysterical voice, “I don’t know!”
“Well, look at it this way,” I said. I was a bit flurried because she looked to me as if she was about to go really off the deep end. “It can’t have been necessarily a bad thing, you being made to care about Grundo. Like symbiosis—you know, cats and dogs and humans—”
“And elephants,” Mini put in.
“And elephants,” I said. “You and Grundo both sound to have been pretty lonely and miserable at Court, but if you were looking after him, okay, he was all right, but you had someone to be fond of, too. And you strike me as being a pretty nice person. So maybe you’d have looked after him anyway. It’s a shame he didn’t trust you to try it on your own, that’s all.”
Roddy put her fists up to her face. “Oh, go away, Nick! I really do need to be alone. Anyway, you have to go back inside and explain to Romanov about the conspiracy. I can’t trust Grundo to explain properly.” There was a slightly horrible silence, then she said angrily, “I can’t trust Grundo for anything now!” and burst into hard, hacking sobs, more like coughing than crying.
I put my arms round her. For just a mere, single instant I had a real, heavy body in my arms and a moist face against my cheek, with a real, difficult personality to go with them. It was a fairly astonishing feeling. Then Roddy fiercely shook me off and went running away to the other side of the island.
I said to Mini, “You keep an eye on her,” and went back into the house, hoping Romanov wouldn’t think I’d given up too easily. But I was blowed if I was going to run after Roddy all over the island. That would really have irritated her.
Actually, when I went into the kitchen, Grundo was making a pretty good job of explaining the part he knew. As I came through the door, Romanov turned the razor edge of his profile against my soul and asked, “What do you know about the Merlin’s part in all this?”
“I don’t,” I said. “I never met him. Maxwell Hyde might know. All I know is that there’s a lot of nasty types in Blest collecting salamanders for some sort of power push. And I saw Gwyn ap Nud carry Maxwell Hyde off. Roddy thinks he did that on the Merlin’s orders. Or this woman Sybil’s.”
Romanov’s razor profile raised an eyebrow at me, and he said, “This woman who kidnaps a Magid, using the Merlin and the Lord of the Dead—there are going to be disturbances in a lot of worlds over this.” He turned to Grundo. “Who did you say your mother is?”
“Her name’s Sybil Temple,” Grundo said.
A very strange look came over the slice of Romanov’s face that I could see. It was as if he didn’t know whether to feel angry, surprised, contemptuous, anxious, or sorry for someone—and probably more things I couldn’t quite understand. “And I’m willing to bet she hasn’t a notion what she’s doing,” he said at length. “She always was a greedy fool, my ex-wife, Sybil.”
“Oh,” said Grundo.
“Yes,” said Romanov. “Oh.”
Things clunked about in my head, like slowly meshing gears. Then I said, “Oh,” too. Romanov’s face came round to mine so quickly that I went backward a step. “It could be my fault she did this,” I said. “She phoned while you were ill—er, ten years ago? And I got fed up with hearing her and tuned her out of your life. She was shouting threats about doing really big magic when I turned her off.”
Romanov thought about this. His mouth pulled into a long, thin line in a way that quite scared me. “Water under the bridge,” he said finally. “She was always making threats. I used to provoke her. No time to share out blame now— Has anyone done anything about the balance of magic?”
I said I didn’t think so. Grundo said, “Nobody believed Roddy when she said there was a plot. One of the Little People told her to raise the land.”
“Well? Did she?” Romanov snapped.
We stared at him, even the Izzys, impressed and alarmed at how urgent and dangerous he sounded. Grundo said, “We didn’t know how to.”
Romanov jumped up from his seat at the table. “Oh, of all the—! When one of the Little People gives advice like that, you take it! I’ll tell her …” He looked at the door as if he expected to drag Roddy back through it, just by looking. “One of you go and find her. You, Toby. The rest of you give me the names of all the missing people that you know. I’d better find what’s happened to them before I go to Blest.”