Modern Magick

The Wonders of Vale: 16

The thick, creamy paper shimmered, and lines etched in black ink began to appear, snaking across the pages. Torvaston's map of the Vales of Wonder was first rendered, and then the ragged outlines of a mountain range. Helpful as Mauf's recreation was, I still couldn't see anything on it that would explain Wyr's apparent interest.

But one thought did enter my head.

'Mountains,' I said, and pointed at the one before us (even if it was only a tall hill, in truth).

'What?' said Jay.

'Griffins. Wherever we've seen griffins, we've seen high ground.'

'We've only seen griffins twice.'

'I know, but—'

'Twice could be a coincidence. You need three for a pattern.'

'Fine. I'll bet you a stack of pancakes as tall as that hill that these Hyndorin Mountains are stuffed full of griffins.'

'That,' said Jay, looking way, way up, 'would be a lot of pancakes.'

'I am confident of winning.'

'To say the least.'

'And that would make three, wouldn't it?'

'Mm. I think I won't take that bet.'

'Jay! Why not?'

'Because if you eat that many pancakes you'll explode, and we need you.'

I smirked. 'You know I'd win, too.'

'I suspect you might be onto something, let's put it that way.'

We were fast approaching the base of the hill, now. Vale had been built right up against it; some of its houses were built straight into the hillside. 'I get the impression this town was once more populous than it is now,' I said. 'It's too big for its population.'

'Could be,' Jay agreed. 'This has to be the old quarter.'

He was right, or so I judged. The houses nearer the great hill were timber-framed structures, though not all of them would own up to the fact. Some sported stucco frontages in improbable colours, and like the newer parts of the town, they were... unusually animated. Chimney pots sprouted from roofs and exploded into clouds of dust; a grasshopper sitting upon the step of one such home suddenly expanded to thirty times its regular size, chirruped loudly, and shrank again; one house grew bored of its ground floor, apparently, and shifted the rooms upwards, taking a stretching set of steps up with it.

'Are they actually doing all that?' I said plaintively. 'Or is it me that's deranged, and all this is going on in my own head?'

'That cottage is growing a hat,' said Jay calmly. 'It's a blue stovepipe, and there's smoke coming out of — oh, it's a chimney.'

A glance verified these words to be perfect truth, but I wasn't altogether sure that made it any better. 'Moving swiftly on,' I said.

Miranda was way ahead of us, already climbing the hill, her legs pumping. Did she mean to power straight to the top? 'Ves!' she suddenly yelled, turning. 'Get up here!'

'What?' I shouted back. 'Why?'

She was pointing, up and behind me. I spun — and saw a familiar-looking winged unicorn swooping past far overhead, though where she had acquired that shell-pink colour I couldn't have said. It was certainly Addie, though. For one, she was still wearing the silvery harness. For another... it's been ten years for us. I'd know her anywhere, whatever colour she wore.

I began to run, pulling my pipes out of my shirt as I went. It's not easy to run uphill and play a wind instrument at the same time, let me tell you, but such was my relief at seeing Adeline hale and unharmed that I spared no effort. By the time I reached Miranda I was winded and, most likely, lobster-red in the face, but I was playing Addie's song with every scrap of breath I could muster.