ever so slightly in the force of the wind from the ocean.
‘Voila!’ Lex exclaimed as soon as the enchanter had left for the town. ‘And here we have our transportation, Mr Schmidt.’
‘Where?’ the lawyer asked, gazing round stupidly.
Lex pointed at the ship. ‘There.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Didn’t you hear that enchanter say he was going away for a week? I won’t wait here for a week; I want to be off today so we can get this whole sorry mess over and done with. You’ll have to go and bargain with one of the other enchanters.’
‘Bargain? My dear Monty, who ever said anything about bargaining?’
Schmidt frowned at him. ‘But you said you were going to get us passage on board one of the enchanters’-’
‘They’ll never take us!’
‘Then how are you going to-?’
‘I’m going to pinch it!’ Lex declared gleefully.
He allowed himself a moment to take in the expression of utter horror on his employer’s face and then ducked smoothly under his arm as the old lawyer made a grab for him. In another moment, he had fled lightly up the gangplank and was staring down over the side of the ship, grinning at Mr Schmidt.
‘Get back down here,’ the lawyer hissed.
Or something of that sort. He was too far away for Lex to be able to hear him but the body language was quite plain.
‘Make me,’ Lex laughed and then disappeared into the ship in search of the defenceless old crone.
The thrill at finally being on an enchanter’s ship was immense. It was dangerous. Of course it was dangerous. The enchanter would be furious, incensed when he found out. But it was irresistible at times — that urge to plummet recklessly into something that all sane men would shrink from. And after a year of stealing nothing more thrilling than trinkets from museums, an enchanter’s ship would be a fine prize indeed. What better way to begin the Game against the Gods?
Lex walked over to a door on the deck, trying to find a way into the ship. Schmidt would follow him. After all, he had no choice. If they didn’t eat together then he would only find himself stranded in Lex’s body anyway.
Lex opened the door and stopped dead. He was standing at the foot of an immensely long corridor. But he was not alone. There were hundreds and hundreds of other Lex’s on either side of him, above him and below him, each looking as disoriented as he was. The hallway was entirely mirrored. The walls, the floor and the ceiling, reflected back at each other into infinity. Lex shuddered.
He was only allowed a moment of discomfort however, since the sounds of labouring coming from outside told him that his employer was making his way up the long gangplank and it was important that they got under way before the old lawyer tried to bodily drag him from the ship. Lex started to walk carefully down the corridor, both arms stretched out so that his fingers brushed against each wall in an attempt to keep himself oriented.
It reminded him of the fayre his grandfather, Alistair Trent, had taken him to when he’d been little. It had all been fun and games until he had scared himself by getting lost in the Maze of Mirrors. When he had at last caught sight of his grandfather, he had made a grateful dash towards him, not realising it was only his reflection he was chasing, and had crashed straight into a mirror, smacking his head and splitting his lip. He had started bawling then and his grandfather had had to buy him a big stick of blue candyfloss to shut him up. You don’t run in mirror mazes, although many children, it seemed, were destined to find that out the hard way.
The mirrored walls were so flawless that it was only the feel of a hinge beneath his fingers that alerted Lex to the fact that there was a door. There was no doorknob or handle but when he pushed the mirrored glass, it swung open easily and silently into a room that, he noted with relief, was not lined with mirrors.
It was a tiny little white box-of-a-room because the walls, floors and ceiling were made entirely out of white marble. It was completely bare but for one basket in the corner, in which the old crone was hunched, her sticks leaning against the wall, the grey cat about her shoulders, staring into space.
‘It’s Bessa, isn’t it?’ Lex asked pleasantly.
At the sound of his voice, the crone flinched as if she had been struck and was on her feet at a speed that was remarkable for a woman so obviously crippled.
‘Get out! ’ she shrieked, grabbing her sticks and hobbling out of the basket. ‘Out!’
‘Don’t be like that, Bessa,’ Lex drawled. ‘Wherever are your manners-?’
He broke off rather suddenly as she whacked him across the chest with one of her sticks. For such an infirm old lady, there was certainly a lot of force behind that stick. He grunted in surprise and staggered back into the mirrored hallway, wincing because she had struck the tender bruises he had acquired just three nights ago falling from the roof of the museum. He ducked sharply, barely missing the stick that whipped past his head, and then jumped back with equal speed to avoid a vicious blow from the second stick.
‘I just want to talk!’ he exclaimed, holding up his hands in what he hoped was a pacifying manner.
He had expected her to be upset, to shout even, but this kind of viciousness was ridiculous. Who would have thought the old woman would be armed?
‘Get off! Get off! Get off my master’s ship you vile scourge!’ She was virtually sobbing. Lex was forced to back away from her as she kept coming at him, both sticks flailing.
‘Steady on,’ he tried. ‘You’ll dislocate a hip or something if you’re not careful.’
But she wasn’t listening. She wasn’t even speaking now, just shrieking at an earsplitting pitch. Lex turned and ran down the corridor back towards the door that led onto the deck. The dreadful wailing didn’t stop and when Lex risked a glance back over his shoulder he saw that the old crone was coming after him at a high-speed hobble, her long skirts flapping around her crooked legs, her many amulets getting tangled up together and the grey cat still draped over her shoulders. Her face was contorted into an expression of pure anguish as she pursued him as fast as her crippled body would allow.
Lex had always had rather a cruel sense of humour and the sight of the old woman trying to run after him made him burst out into helpless laughter so that by the time he neared the end of the corridor he was bent almost double with it. What on earth did she think she’d be able to do if she caught him? Whatever made her think that giving chase would be a good idea when he was probably at least ten times stronger than her? The image so amused Lex that he found he could manage no more than a stagger himself even though he was aware that the horrible old witch was catching up with him.
He almost crashed into Schmidt as he appeared in the doorway. ‘Get out of the way!’ he shrieked through his laughter. ‘She’s going to get me!’
The lawyer backed away from the doorway in obvious alarm. Lex was blocking his view of the old woman but her insane wailing made it sound like some awful, banshee-like monster was giving chase.
Lex broke out into the fresh air of the silver deck and tried to stop laughing. When the wild old crone appeared in the doorway, Lex treated her to a mocking bow. ‘I’ve had some high-speed chases in my time, Bessa, but yours was by far the most thrilling. I don’t know when I’ve ever been more scared for my life.’
The crone glared at him, angry tears rolling down her withered cheeks. Schmidt stared at the old woman and then back at Lex. ‘What in God’s name did you do to her?’ he snapped before turning back to the crone. ‘I am sorry, ma’am, if this boy said anything to offend you. Please allow me to-urgh!’
The lawyer, who had been walking towards the old lady, broke off abruptly as one of her sticks clipped him across the side of the head.
‘ Get off my master’s ship! ’ she screamed.
Lex dissolved into laughter once again at the delightful sight of his employer reeling back in alarm from the old lady with the decidedly deadly walking sticks. His laughter was short lived however, when she scuttled up to him and managed a well-aimed blow directly to the stomach. Lex bent over double, momentarily robbed of air, gasping for breath, his eyes watering. He was only saved from a second skull-shattering blow by Schmidt’s fortuitously timely recovery as he succeeded in wrestling the sticks from the mad old woman, whereupon she promptly lost her balance and fell over onto the gleaming silver deck.
‘Calm yourself, madam,’ the lawyer exclaimed. ‘No one is going to harm you. Are you all right, Lex?’
‘What do you think?’ Lex wheezed.
‘Serves you right!’ the old lawyer retorted.
Lex straightened up with an effort and took a step towards the sprawled crone. ‘All we want is the boat, you
