Accidental Archaeologist Page 4

  Puzzled, Thordric went inside the cabin. There were two beds in there, on opposite sides. His bag was on top of one, but the other had all manner of things around it. Books, clothes, strange brushes and round pieces of glass for looking through (Thordric had never used one but Vey had told him that they made objects appear bigger so that you could study details more accurately) and, rather alarmingly, a pickaxe.

  What kind of person owned such curious things?

  The young man was certainly no wizard, for Thordric would have felt the magic in him. Curiously and, somewhat nervously, he picked up one of the books. It was titled 'Greatest Archaeological finds of the Century'. The other books were labelled similarly, a few appearing to be method books for various techniques.

  The door opened again and Thordric jumped back to his own bed, hoping that the man wouldn't be suspicious. He walked in, seemingly unaware that Thordric was there at first, but then turned sharply.

  'Oh,' he stammered. 'You must me my cabin mate. Sorry I ran out on you like that, but it seems my stomach won't settle now that we've started moving. My name's Hamlet.'

  He extended a pale hand and Thordric shook it. Now he was standing still, he could see that the young man was roughly the same age as him. 'I'm Thordric, part of the Wizard Council,' he replied, hoping that he didn't seem too pompous.

  'Thordric? As in the Thordric who solved the case of Kalljard's death? I know all about you, you're a half-wizard, aren't you?' Hamlet blurted.

  Thordric wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't realised that people would know who he was. 'Yes,' he said after a moment. 'I helped out in the case a bit. And it's true that I'm a half-wizard.'

  Hamlet grinned. 'I always felt that half-wizards were more capable than everyone gave them credit for. You must know High Wizard Vey then? He's a half-wizard too, isn't he?' he gushed.

  'He's a close friend,' Thordric said, 'and he's been teaching me since I joined the Council.'

  'Wow, you're actually being taught by him? That must be—'

  Hamlet cut off abruptly, his face turning green again.

  'Hold on a moment,' Thordric said, searching through his bag. He pulled out a small vial of liquid and handed it to him. 'Drink that, it should last for the whole voyage.'

  Hamlet did as he was told and instantly his face turned back to its normal pale colour.

  'Feel better?' Thordric asked. Hamlet gave him a weak, yet definite, smile. 'Good. So, where are you travelling to?'

  'Neathin Valley,' Hamlet replied. 'My professor has some friends up there at a dig site and he wanted me to go there to get some field work experience.'

  'What's at the dig site?' Thordric asked, starting to unpack his bag.

  'I don't know, he wouldn't tell me.'

  Thordric frowned. 'That sounds suspicious,' he said, looking at Hamlet directly.

  'Not really,' Hamlet disagreed. 'He's like that sometimes. Though why he chose me of all people I don't understand. I'm hardly top of the class and I get travel sickness all the time.'

  'Perhaps he thought you were more enthusiastic, or showed promise in some way,' Thordric suggested.

  Hamlet made a face. 'If I'm honest, I think he just wanted to make mother happy. He's had his eye on her, you know, ever since father died a few years ago. If he helps me get a job, then it'll make him look good.'

  This made Thordric think back to when he had first got a job at the stationhouse, working under the Inspector as a runner. That had only been because his mother had asked the Inspector directly and he hadn't wanted to disappoint her. Though, Thordric had to admit, the Inspector was a good man despite his bad temper and bushy moustache, so he had nothing to complain about. Unlike Hamlet, he had never known his father, so his mother getting married again hadn't been a problem.

  Thordric looked at him as he thought this, taking in the well kempt blonde hair and cream coloured jacket and breeches. He was surprised to find that he felt sorry for him.

  'I can't really do anything about your situation,' he said slowly. 'But I can help you with your travel sickness.'

  He pulled out ten more vials and gave them to Hamlet. 'Each one lasts for three days. That should be long enough for me to do my business and get back to the Council to make some more. After that, I can send you as much as you like.'

  'Really? You would do that?' Hamlet said, blinking.

  'Of course,' Thordric said. 'You won't have to pay for it either, because it isn't part of our product line yet.'

  'But I must repay you in some way,' Hamlet insisted.

  Thordric thought for a moment. 'Well,' he said, rubbing his chin and lamenting the loss of his beard from Elle and Mae's clutches the night before. He hadn't had breakfast yet and his stomach was throwing quite the tantrum. 'You could show me where the dining cabin is. I don't think I've ever been so hungry in my life.'

  Hamlet laughed, a hint of colour touching his face. 'I suppose that now I feel better, I can eat too. Let's go, shall we?'

  They left the cabin, locking the door behind them, and made their way back to the main corridor. The dining cabin was straight down the end, though it seemed to take forever to reach it. By then, Thordric was so hungry that he could have started eating the walls, but then the strong smell of roasted meat and vegetables hit him, he all but levitated himself after it.

  The room was enormous and very busy. Thordric thought that there were at least a hundred passengers in there, but he was glad to see that the serving area was still piled high with food. He and Hamlet eagerly set about pilling their plates with food of every colour, shape and smell. It was wonderful.

  Chapter Six: Invisible Walls

  'So you say these wizards, the Wanderers, walked out on the Council because they disliked the old policies that Kalljard enforced?' Hamlet asked, loading up his fork with ham and eggs.

  'That's the sum of it, yes. I don't know much about them, but I thought they should know how much the Council has changed. Even if they don't want to join, they should know that we don't pose any threat to them.'

  'Were they threatened before then?' Hamlet said, shoving egg into his mouth.

  'I'm not sure, but Kalljard was certainly keeping an eye on them.' Thordric took a sip of his blueberry and chocolate tea. 'I also thought of checking around to see if there were any half-wizards. See, like the old rumours said, if a half-wizard hasn't be trained, then his magic can go very wrong. Of course, the same thing happens with full wizards too, but most of them are found at an early age and put straight into the Wizard Council Training Facility.'

  'But you used magic to solve that case,' Hamlet objected, now helping himself to a large cheese puff. 'I thought you said High Wizard Vey didn't start training you until you had joined the Council?'

  Thordric smiled. 'He didn't, but his mother did.'

  Hamlet dropped his pastry. 'You know a woman that can use magic?' he said, loud enough so that several people looked around.

  'Not exactly,' Thordric replied, dropping his voice so that everyone went back to their meal. 'She learnt the theory from her husband, who was a half-wizard too and taught himself how to control his magic.'

  'What happened to him?'

  Thordric went silent for a moment. 'We suspect that Kalljard had him killed, though it's impossible to prove now that he's dead. I'm sure you're aware of the plans we uncovered during the investigation?'

  Hamlet inclined his head. 'Everyone in Jard Town knows about it. He wanted all half-wizards eradicated, didn't he? I'm still not sure why, though.'

  'He felt threatened by us. It's a lot rarer now for a full wizard to be born, as a lot of families are related to each other and many have records of a wizard being born into the family. Kalljard knew that there would soon be more half-wizards than full ones and he also knew that when properly trained, there was no difference in magical ability between them. The myth that a full wizard has all the magic power that has been 'stored' in the bloodline is nothing but superstition. Patrick, Vey's father, knew this too and wanted to get back
at Kalljard for all the hatred for half-wizards that he caused.'

  Hamlet sat for a moment, watching Thordric finish his breakfast while everything he'd been told sank in. His mouth twisted into a wry smile. 'You suspect that the Wanderers are in Neathin Valley, don't you?'

  'How did you know that?' Thordric asked, his eyebrow shooting up.

  'I didn't, but you unpacked all your belongings in the cabin. Only someone along for the whole journey would do that.'

  Thordric grinned. Hamlet was certainly no fool.

  They finished breakfast and made their way back to 'The Rookery'. Now that the ship was travelling at full speed, they could feel it rocking on the air currents.

  Inside their cabin, Thordric got out his map to show Hamlet where he though the Wanderers were. Hamlet also got out the map that his professor had given him of the dig site he would be going to.

  Laying them both out on the floor to compare them, Thordric noticed that the dig site was only a few miles from where the Wanderers were marked.

  'It looks like you'll be quite close,' he said, tapping his map where Hamlet would be going.

  'It's quite the coincidence, considering how large Neathin Valley is,' Hamlet agreed, marvelling at the detail on Thordric's map. It had been drawn by Kalljard, Vey had revealed, and he certainly had put a lot of artistic flair into it.

  Thordric preferred Hamlet's map. It was accurate but simple, uncluttered by near lifelike depictions of trees, mountains and rivers. It was easy to read and, to Thordric's amazement, didn't carry that strong musty smell that he had thought belonged to all maps and documents over a year old.

  They rolled up the maps and put them away before sitting on their beds. The journey was three days long and they had only been aboard for three hours. What would they do now?

  The creaking of the floorboards grew louder as the silence between them stretched. In the end, Thordric couldn't take it. 'I'm going up on deck for a while,' he said, and left the room.

  As he reached the end of the main corridor, about to open the door leading to the deck, he heard a voice behind him.

  'Wait,' Hamlet said, rushing up to him. Unfortunately for Thordric, it was too late.

  He had already opened the door and walked up the steps onto the deck, straight into the cloud that the ship was passing through. Silently, he turned and came back down, his robes dripping with water and his hair stuck to his face. He saw Hamlet waiting with a towel for him and scowled.

  'I did try to warn you,' Hamlet said, giving him the towel. 'Just after you left I looked out the porthole and saw it was all grey outside.'

  Thordric snatched it off him and busied himself with drying his hair.

  'I wondered if you'd need one,' Hamlet continued, gesturing to the towel. 'I wasn't sure if you knew some sort of instant drying spell or something.'

  Thordric scowled at him even more.

  'How about we go to the viewing room?' Hamlet said, trying to change the subject before Thordric could get any angrier. 'I heard that it was finished with a special paint that makes the walls appear as though they're invisible. You can look outside even when it's raining or snowing and be completely comfortable'.

  'I've never heard of anything like that on a floating Ship of Kal,' Thordric replied, frowning. Vey hadn't mentioned anything about it at all.

  'The others don't have it,' Hamlet explained. 'Only The Jardine does. It's the best ship in the fleet.'

  Forgetting that he was still wet, Thordric eagerly ran off in search of the viewing room. It was only when he found himself facing a crossroads in the corridors that he realised he had no idea where it was.

  He looked around to see if Hamlet had been following him, but he was nowhere in sight. Nor was anyone else; the corridors were empty. Perhaps he should just go back the way he came, but…which way was that?

  It was no good. All the corridors looked exactly the same. He sank down against the wall, throwing the towel down beside him. As he did so, an idea struck him sharply in the head. The towel belonged to Hamlet; maybe he could use it to track him down.

  Vey had taught him a simple location spell only a few weeks ago, though it had been to find objects, not people. However, Thordric was sure that if he tweaked it a little, he could use it to find Hamlet.

  Picturing Hamlet in his mind, he willed the towel to go back to him. Within moments, he found himself being dragged along one of the corridors, turning this way and that, hitting all the corners and portraits as he passed.

  The towel was speeding forwards as though it was being pulled by a giant magnet, with him still attached. Suddenly it stopped outside a door and threw him into it.

  All too late, Thordric realised that it was the men's baths. He let go of the towel quickly, but tripped and fell headlong into the deepest bath of the lot. At least the water was warm, unlike the cloud had been. He sighed and saw a stack of towels, the same design as the one he had been holding, on shelves around the room. So it hadn't been Hamlet's towel after all, he had taken it from here.

  Slowly climbing out of the giant bath, he thought about trying a drying spell like Hamlet had suggested. Then he remembered that it had been a spell that got him into this mess and thought better of it.

  After wringing out as much water from his robes as he could; which turned out to be very little; he went back out into the corridor and bumped straight into Hamlet.

  'Thordric, there you are, I've been looking for you…' he began, but then noticed the state Thordric was in. 'You seem to be even wetter than before. What happened?'

  Grudgingly, Thordric told him. Hamlet laughed so hard that he gave himself hiccoughs. Thordric had no sympathy for him.

  'Anyway,' Hamlet said, after he had recovered. 'I found the viewing room. It's right at the bow. You should see it, it's really amazing.'

  A few hours later, once Thordric was dry again and his mood was less sour, he and Hamlet made their way to the viewing room.

  Thordric blinked as he entered. It was just as amazing as Hamlet had said, despite having seen plenty of unusual and magically advanced things at the Council.

  It was like being on deck, except that there was no danger of getting caught by the elements. The only way that he could tell he was still inside the ship was by looking very closely at the walls. If he did it for long enough, he could just make out the fine lines between the boards. Even the floor was transparent, which had made his stomach lurch at first.

  'Look over there,' Hamlet said, pointing down and slightly to the left.

  Thordric did. It was the tall peak of a mountain, covered with snow. 'Isn't that Mount Allja down there?' he asked, blinking at it stupidly. They were up higher than a mountain.

  Hamlet nodded. 'I studied it last semester. Did you know that they've found the bones of a giant bird there? There's no record of anything like it before.'

  The rest of the day passed like this, with Hamlet pointing to every river, lake and mountain that they came across, explaining in great detail all the archaeological finds that he had read about and hoped to study one day. Fascinating as it had been at first, Thordric found himself dozing off against the wall.

  Shaking himself, he straightened up, holding on to the wall for balance. As he did so, he realised that he could feel the magic from the paint flowing into his fingertips. Curiously, he felt along the lines of the boards and found that there were not one, but two layers of paint on it. One was the transparency illusion, but what was the other?

  It was definitely a magical layer, but what it was for still eluded him. 'Hamlet,' he said, tapping his friend on the shoulder. 'Do you see anything unusual about this room?'

  Hamlet laughed. 'You mean apart from the invisible floor and walls?' he said.

  Thordric stared at him, unsure whether to be amazed or horrified. Why hadn't he noticed it before?

  'What's wrong?' Hamlet asked, seeing the sudden change in his friend's expression.

  Swallowing, Thordric said, 'Have a look at the others. Watch how they're speaki
ng.'

  Hamlet did so and let out a cry of alarm. At least, it would have been a cry if it had been aloud. He could hear everyone's conversations clearly, but what no one seemed to realise was that they weren't moving their lips.

  'What's happening?' he asked desperately, but let out another cry as he found that his lips weren't moving either.

  'There's another layer of paint in here, doing something other than making the walls transparent,' Thordric explained. 'It's magic I've never seen before, so I'm not quite sure how it works, but it's allowing us to speak to each other with our minds without making us aware of it.'

  Hamlet turned even paler than he was already and, with a bang, passed out on the floor. Thordric hadn't even had time to mention that the effects would wear off as soon as they left the room.

  He sighed and dragged Hamlet out of the door and into the corridor. Absently levitating him back towards 'the Rookery', Thordric pulled out his communication device. He knew Vey had said to use it only when he was halfway on his journey, but the viewing room was so intriguing that he just had to ask him about it.

  Pressing the button on the small wooden box, away from where the blue flower poked out merrily, he called into it. 'Vey?'

  He heard a sudden scrambling. 'Thordric? What's the matter; is something wrong?' Vey's voice sounded around him, slightly breathless.

  'No, it's nothing like that,' he replied.

  Vey let out a loud sigh. 'Good, you had me worried. I wasn't expecting you to contact me for another day. What is it?'

  'It's about the viewing room onboard. Why didn't you tell me about the magic in there? It's amazing.'

  Vey laughed. 'Well actually, I quite forgot about it. I'm afraid I can't tell you much though; the magic eludes even me. All I know is that the viewing room is the most recent addition to The Jardine. I believe Kalljard had it designed only a few months before he died. It was probably the last bit of serious magic he performed.'