Free SandRider by Angie Sage Page A

“They don’t allow animals in there.”
    â€œTell them what he is,” said Kaznim. “Then they will.”
    The tall woman with the white streak in her hair appeared at the door behind Edd. “Alice,” Dandra said briskly. “We need Marcellus fast, please.”
    â€œYes. Sorry. Just going,” said Tod.
    â€œBe quick,” Dandra said and then, “Edd, what are you holding?”
    Edd looked bewildered. “A Pothecary tortoise?”
    Dandra looked amazed. “Ptolemy!” She gasped. “Give him to me!” She snatched the tortoise and hurried back into the Sick Bay. Edd stared down at his empty hands, shook his head, then turned and followed. The doors swung closed behind them.
    â€œHow did she know my tortoise’s name?” asked Kaznim, staring at the closed doors.
    â€œI have no idea.” Tod was as bewildered as Kaznim. “Look, I’ve got to go. Wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
    Kaznim watched Tod hurry to the silver stairs and press a large red button on the wall. A distant siren sounded a stair priority warning. Tod jumped on, the stairs sped up and in a sudden whirl of green, she was gone. Kaznim was left in the hushed dimness of the Sick Bay corridor, with its astringentsmells that reminded her of a star-strewn tent so far away. She sat down on the waiting bench and a wave of homesickness washed over her.
A POTHECARY T ORTOISE
    Inside the Sick Bay Dandra Draa and her old tortoise were becoming reacquainted. She held him up so that they were eye to eye and Ptolemy stuck his head out as far as he could. If he could have smiled he would have; it was good to see his old attendant again. He had wondered what had happened to her. Much as the tortoise felt great affection for his young attendant, he had, like all tortoises, a preference for maturer creatures.
    Dandra felt as though her past had caught up with her and run her over. Her hands were shaking as she fought back a familiar feeling of fear. “Who brought this tortoise here?” she asked.
    â€œTod,” said Edd.
    â€œ Alice brought it?”
    â€œEr, well, there was a girl with her. Quite young. I think it belonged to her.”
    Dandra shook her head, puzzled. “I . . . I don’t understand,” she muttered.
    Edd nodded in agreement. He didn’t understand either—Dandra never allowed animals in the Sick Bay, and here she was waving around a dirty rock with scaly legs and a cranky look in its eyes. It will be peeing on the floor next , Edd thought. “I’ll get a cloth, shall I?” he offered. “Something for it to sit on.”
    Dandra looked impressed. “Yes, please, Edd. That’s what we always do—but how did you know?”
    Edd, who enjoyed helping in the Sick Bay, hurried away, pleased to be of use.
    Sam Heap was in the Quiet Room, a small and peaceful space off the main Sick Bay. It was used for Wizards who were very ill or nearing the end of their lives, and after a nasty flu epidemic earlier that winter it was now home to six ghosts, all spending their obligatory ghostly Leaving Time—a year and a day after their death—in the place where they had entered ghosthood.
    The ghostly old Wizards regarded Sam Heap mournfully. They all remembered him as a bright, noisy little boy, fullof life. It seemed impossible that this thin and deathly still young man who was as white as the sheets beneath him—apart from the great gash of red across his stomach—was the same person.
    â€œI’m surprised his parents aren’t here,” whispered one. “You know how obsessed Sarah Heap is with her boys.”
    â€œI heard that Sarah and Silas are away in the Forest,” whispered another. “They went to stay with Galen for the MidWinter Feast.”
    â€œWhatever did they want to do that for?” came the reply.
    â€œSilas didn’t want to,” said the first. “He was in here