Across The Wall: A Tale of the Abhorsen and Other Stories. Garth Nix

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      It looked vaguely human, in the sense that it had a head, a torso, two arms and two legs. But its skin or hide was of a strange violet hue, crosshatched with lines like a crocodile’s, and looked very rough. Its legs were jointed backward and ended in hooked hooves. The arms stretched down almost to the floor of the case and ended not in hands but in club-like appendages that were covered in inch-long barbs. Its torso was thin and cylindrical, rather like that of a wasp. Its head was the most human part, save that it sat on a neck that was twice as long; it had narrow slits instead of ears, and its black, violet-pupilled eyes—presumably glass made by a skilful taxidermist—were pear-shaped and took up half its face. Its mouth, twice the width of any human’s, was almost closed, but Nick could see teeth gleaming there.

      Black teeth that shone like polished jet.

      “No!” screamed Malthan. He ran back down the corridor as far as the previous door, which was locked. He beat on the metal with his fists, the drumming echoing down the corridor.

      Nick pushed Lackridge gently aside with a quiet “Excuse me.” He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but it was not from fear. It was excitement. The excitement of discovery, of learning something new. A feeling he had always enjoyed, but it had been lost to him ever since he’d dug up the metal spheres of the Destroyer.

      He leaned forwards to touch the case and felt a strange, electric thrill run through his fingers and out along his thumbs. At the same time, there was a stabbing pain in his forehead, strong enough to make him step back and press two fingers hard between his eyes.

      “Not a bad specimen,” said Lackridge. He spoke conversationally, but he had come very close to Nick and was watching him intently. “Its history is a little murky, but it’s been in the country for at least three hundred years and in the Corvere Bibliomanse for the past thirty-five. One of the things my staff has been doing here at Department Thirteen is cross-indexing all the various institutional records, looking for artefacts and information about our northern neighbours. When we got Malthan’s photographs, Dorrance happened to remember he’d seen an actual specimen of one of the creatures somewhere before, as a child. I cross-checked the records at the Bibliomanse and found the thing, and we had it brought up here.”

      Nick nodded absently. The pain in his head was receding. It appeared to emanate from his Charter Mark, though that should be totally quiescent this far from the Wall. Unless there was a roaring gale blowing down from the north, which he supposed might have happened since he came down into Department Thirteen’s subterranean lair. It was impossible to tell what was going on in the world above them.

      “Apparently the thing was found about ten miles in on our side of the Wall, wrapped in three chains,” continued Lackridge. “One of silver, one of lead and one made from braided daisies. That’s what the notes say, though of course we don’t have the chains to prove it. If there was a silver one, it must have been worth a pretty penny. Long before the Perimeter, of course, so it was some time before the authorities got hold of it. According to the records, the local folk wanted to drag it back to the Wall, but fortunately there was a visiting Captain-Inquirer who had it shipped south. Should never have got rid of the Captain-Inquirers. Wouldn’t have minded being one myself. Don’t suppose anyone would bring them back now. Lily-livered lot, the present government…excepting your uncle, of course…”

      “My father also sits in the Moot,” said Nick. “On the government benches.”

      “Well, of course, everyone says my politics are to the right of old Arbiter Werris Blue-Nose, so don’t mind me,” said Lackridge. He stepped back into the corridor and shouted, “Come back here, Mr Malthan. It won’t bite you!”

      As Lackridge spoke, Nick thought he saw the creature’s eyes move. Just a fraction, but there was a definite sense of movement. With it, all his sense of excitement was banished in a second, to be replaced by a growing fear.

      It’s alive, thought Nick.

      He stepped back to the door, almost knocking over Lackridge, his mind working furiously.

      The thing is alive. Quiescent. Conserving its energies, so far from the Old Kingdom. It must be some Free Magic creature and it’s just waiting for a chance—

      “Thank you, Professor Lackridge, but I find myself suddenly rather keen on a cup of tea,” blurted Nick. “Do you think we might come back and look at this specimen tomorrow?”

      “I’m supposed to make Malthan touch the case,” said Lackridge. “Dorrance was most insistent upon it. Wants to see his reaction.”

      Nick edged back and looked down the corridor. Malthan was crouched by the door.

      “I think you’ve seen his reaction,” he said. “Anything more would simply be cruel and hardly scientific.”

      “He’s only an Old Kingdom trader,” said Lackridge. “He’s not even strictly legal. Conditional visa. We can do whatever we like with him.”

      “What!” exclaimed Nick.

      “Within reason,” Lackridge added hastily. “I mean, nothing too drastic. Do him good.”

      “I think he needs to get on a train north and go back to the Old Kingdom,” said Nick firmly. He liked Lackridge less and less with every passing minute, and the whole Department Thirteen set-up seemed very dubious. It was all very well for his Uncle Edward to talk about having extra-legal entities to do things the government could not, but the line had to be drawn somewhere and Nick didn’t think Dorrance or Lackridge knew where to draw it—or if they did, when not to step over it.

      “I’ll just see how he is,” added Nick. An idea started to rise from the recesses of his mind as he walked down the corridor towards the crouched and shivering man pressed against the door. “Perhaps we can walk out together.”

      “Mr Dorrance was most insistent—”

      “I’m sure he won’t mind if you tell him that I insisted on escorting Malthan on his way.”

      “But—”

      “I am insisting, you know,” Nick cut in forcefully. “As it is, I shall have a few words to say about this place to my uncle.”

      “If you’re going to be like that, I don’t think I have any choice,” said Lackridge petulantly. “We were assured that you would cooperate fully with our research.”

      “I will cooperate, but I don’t think Malthan needs to do any more for Department Thirteen,” said Nick. He bent down and helped the Old Kingdom trader up. He was surprised by how much the smaller man was shaking. He seemed totally in the grip of panic, though he calmed a little when Nick took his arm above the elbow. “Now, please show us out. And you can organise someone to take Malthan to the railway station.”

      “You don’t understand the importance of our work,” said Lackridge. “Or our methods. Observing the superstitious re-actions of northerners and our own people delivers legitimate and potentially useful information.”

      This was clearly only a pro forma protest, because as Lackridge spoke, he unlocked the door and led them quickly through the corridors. After a few minutes, Nick found that he didn’t need to half carry Malthan any more, but could just point him in the right direction.

      Eventually, after numerous turns and more doors that required laborious unlocking, they came to a double-width steel door with two spy СКАЧАТЬ