Modern Magick

The Wonders of Vale: 6

No, he said, with evident satisfaction.

'Well, damn and blast.'

I waited in hopes that either Jay or Emellana might have some bright suggestion to offer — or that Melmidoc might recover from his fit of the sulks and help us out. Literally, even.

You are still here?

I rolled my eyes. 'Going.'

Not that I was sorry to be on our way out. Ever since our first visit to Whitmore, I had been itching to cross the water, and see what the rest of this hyper-magickal Britain was like. Opportunities had been consistently lacking, thanks in large part to distractions courtesy of Fenella Beaumont and her miserable crew.

Well, Melmidoc might be a grouchy old donkey but at least he'd got rid of her. And for all his ungraciousness, he hadn't subjected us to the same fate.

I suppose that made us, sort of, favourites. I'd take it.

'Where do we go!' I said, once fairly beyond the door of the Spire. 'Jay! Make it happen!'

He gave me a rather helpless look, then gazed out over the town. 'Well. Somewhere down on the shore there must be a crossing of some kind.'

So there must, but now that he mentioned it... had I ever noticed such a thing before? 'A ferry?' I suggested. 'A bridge?'

Jay shrugged. 'Either would be good.'

Emellana's perfect serenity gave way to a degree of puzzlement. There was even a slight frown discernible upon her agéd brow. 'The two of you have been here before, yes? Did I correctly understand that?'

'We have!' I said, making up in chirpiness for what I lacked in certainty.

'Multiple times,' said Jay drily. 'We were a bit distracted at those times.'

'I could fly over, and send Addie back for you,' I suggested.

'We'll consider that as a last resort,' said Jay.

'Oh, come on. Air Unicorn hasn't killed you yet.'

'There must be a more sensible way across, and we will find it,' said Jay loftily. 'After all, those story-tellers came across from the mainland last time we were here. There has to be a crossing somewhere.'

'Perhaps,' said Emellana mildly, 'it is nothing so obvious as a bridge, or a ferry.'

'Why would it be, indeed?' I said with a groan. 'Nothing else about this place is ordinary.' I set off down the sloping hill into the town, scooping up pup along the way. 'I'm going to ask someone.'

'You don't think that will sound a bit... weird?' said Jay, striding after me. 'Hey, I know we're on an island and surrounded by water we ought to have crossed in order to get here in the first place, but where's the ferry?'

I shrugged. 'What's wrong with sounding weird once in a while? Who's going to care?'

Jay growled something, but he made no further objections.

Emellana soon outstripped me, her legs being about six times as long as mine. 'There are assorted magickal means of crossing water,' she said over her shoulder. 'Some of which would not be nearly so eye-catching as a ferry terminal.'

'Such as what?' I called.

'In parts of Morocco they use a species of levitation charm. I crossed the Lukkus in '78 in a laundry tub. Uncomfortable, but effective. In Persia in '49 I was taken over a lake by a great bird — I never did discover whether it was a simorq or a rukh, but something of that nature. Then in, oh, '60, or '61, I galloped across the Danube on horseback. How they contrived to keep the animals afloat, I don't know, but quite the marvel.' As she spoke, Emellana kept up a brisk stride down and down the hill, ever on towards the shore. We passed a number of Whitmore's citizens, few of whom were used to seeing trolls much, I concluded, from the way they stared at Emellana. Or was it the group effect of a gigantic troll, two oddly-dressed humans (by their standards) and a unicorn clattering behind that got their attention? Maybe that.