‘I shall behave as a Companion is supposed to behave,’ said Lorquin piously.
They trotted in silence for another hour; then Lorquin said suddenly, ‘We have reached our destination, En Ri.’
Henry looked around him. The sandy desert had given way to rocky wasteland, but otherwise he could see nothing of note, ‘I thought we were going to the mountains,’ he said.
‘We have reached the mountains,’ Lorquin said.
And indeed they had. The mountains loomed ahead, solid, threatening and gloomy. Henry blinked. He had no idea how he could have approached an entire mountain range without noticing. It just went to show how distracted he’d become. He stopped, staring up at the more distant peaks and suddenly realised how ill prepared he was for this whole adventure. All very well for Mr Fogarty to tell him he had to rescue Blue in the Mountains of Madness. But from what, in the Mountains of Madness. And where in the Mountains of Madness? They could spend the next month searching and never find her.
He realised he’d spoken the last thought aloud when Lorquin said, ‘Perhaps I can track her, En Ri.’
Henry didn’t quite see how, but he had long since stopped underestimating Lorquin’s abilities. Nonetheless he said cautiously, ‘You don’t even know what she looks like.’
‘Of course not, En Ri,’ Lorquin said. ‘But the mountains are haunted, so very few people come here. I can pick up the most recent trails. If we follow each, one will likely lead to your Blue.’ He looked carefully at Henry’s expression and added, ‘It will be quicker than searching all the mountains.’
‘Yes,’ Henry said doubtfully. Anything would be quicker than searching the entire mountain range, but that was about all you could say for Lorquin’s plan. The trouble was, he didn’t have a better one. ‘Yes,’ he repeated more firmly. ‘Yes, good idea. Lorquin. Thank you.’
In fact it took far less time than he imagined. They rested first for half an hour; then Lorquin led him to a place in the foothills overhung by two huge boulders. ‘We start here,’ he said.
Henry looked around. ‘Why?’ he asked curiously.
‘We approached the mountains from the deep desert,’ Lorquin said, ‘I believe your friend may have approached from the great city or the dwelling of the holy men. In either case, she would have used this pass. It is the easiest road into the mountains.’
Henry stared at him. The boy was nothing short of incredible. Give him a suit and an office in London and he’d be running the city in a month. After a moment, he said, ‘So what do we do now?’
‘Rest, En Ri, and gather your strength for your great ordeal ahead. I will tell you when I find her trail.’
When not if, Henry noted. He placed his back against one of the boulders, sank down into a comfortable squat and watched. Lorquin circled the site twice, his eyes on the ground, then trotted through the pass. As he disappeared from sight he called back, ‘I shall return for you, En Ri, when I find what we seek.’
Only minutes passed before he did return.
‘You haven’t found something already?’ Henry asked, pushing himself to his feet. This was incredible, even for Lorquin.
‘Several people have passed this way recently,’ Lorquin said. ‘Regrettably, I cannot say for certain if one of them is your friend.’
‘So we don’t know which way to go?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Lorquin said. ‘All went to the same place.’
‘They did?’ Henry frowned suddenly. Had Blue travelled with an entourage? Or was it a more sinister picture? ‘I don’t suppose you know how many there were?’
‘First many came here in a caravan,’ Lorquin said, ‘but most would not risk the mountain path, so two went ahead alone with a heavy cart. I do not think either of these was your friend because they were both men, although they may have taken her in their cart. Later another came with a charno -’
‘What’s a charno?’ Henry asked. He also wondered how Lorquin knew he was trailing two men. Why not two women, or two boys. Maybe they left footprints and he judged the size of their feet.
‘It is an animal trained to carry the possessions of people who do not know it is better to travel without possessions,’ Lorquin said. ‘The person with the charno was a woman, so it may be your friend.’
‘You can tell all this from the trails?’ Henry said.
‘If you wish, I can teach you, En Ri.’
‘Not just now,’ Henry said. He felt a growing surge of excitement. ‘If Blue really is up there, we may not have much time to lose.’
‘That is wise,’ Lorquin said gravely. He glanced back the way he came. ‘There is something very dangerous in these mountains.’
Eighty-Two
Madame Cardui stared at the pathetic creature, utterly appalled. ‘You allowed your Queen to enter mountain caverns guarded by the Midgard Serpent?’
Chalkhill looked at his feet and mumbled.
‘Speak up, you wobbling cretin!’ Madame Cardui snapped.
Chalkhill jumped. ‘Yes,’ he said more loudly.
‘And when she entered these mountains, you simply… ran away?’
‘I came here to tell you, Madame Spymaster,’ Chalkhill protested, ‘I came as quickly as I could. I even hired a flyer at my own expense, a highly dangerous flyer in a poor state of repair so that I risked life and li -’
‘Oh, shut up, Chalkhill,’ Madame Cardui told him tiredly. ‘I suppose one can expect nothing from a pig but a grunt.’ She shifted her position on the suspensor cloud so she could glare at him more fiercely. ‘How did the Midgard Serpent find itself in these caverns, Mr Chalkhill? How did the Midgard Serpent happen to enter our reality at all?’
‘Called up,’ muttered Chalkhill. He wondered how she made him feel so ridiculously guilty when none of this was his fault!
‘Called up, Mr Chalkhill? Who could possibly be stupid enough to call up the Midgard Serpent?’
‘Brimstone,’ Chalkhill said without meeting her eyes.
Madame Cardui smiled bleakly. ‘Your old partner,’ she hissed.
‘Yes, well, you can’t hold that against me.’
‘Can’t I?’ asked Madame Cardui. ‘If Queen Blue has been harmed in any way, you’d be surprised what I could hold against you. Mr Chalkhill. So you’d better tell me what else you know.’
Chalkhill licked his lips, wondering how far he should go with the old witch. The situation was grave, very grave, and might easily get worse. But in every crisis there were always men who played clever and refreshed their status, men who kept their nerve and came out on the winning side. The trouble was, it was difficult to decide on the winning side just now. The imbecile girl Queen was probably dead by now, which would normally swing the balance far in favour of Lord Hairstreak, despite his diminished fortunes. But Hairstreak was heavily dependant on Brimstone in this enterprise – solely dependant on Brimstone in fact and Brimstone was mad. He’d been fairly mad to call up the Midgard Serpent in the first place but – Chalkhill swallowed – that rotten stroke of luck in meeting up with a cloud dancer had finished him completely. Where did that leave Lord Hairstreak now?