Stormchaser Read Free Page B

feathers ruffling. ‘As I was saying, the professor explained to Vilnix that, if the Great Storm was confirmed, then – as tradition demanded – Quintinius Verginix would be knighted and despatched to the Twilight Woods. Sky willing, he would return with stormphrax.
    ‘Vilnix smiled that smile of his. Inscrutable, reptilian. Now, at last, the time had come to touch upon the subject he had wanted to enquire about all along. “This … stormphrax,” he said, in as off-hand a manner as hecould manage. “When I was in the Knights’ Academy, it was often talked about as the most wonderful substance that ever existed. We were told that the shards of stormphrax are in fact pure lightning,” he continued, his voice oily, treacherous. “Can this possibly be true?”
    ‘The Professor of Darkness nodded solemnly, and when he spoke again it was as though he was reciting from an ancient text. “That which is called stormphrax,” he proclaimed, “is created in the eye of a Great Storm – a mighty maelstrom which is formed far beyond the Edge once every several years, which blows in on parched and sulphurous winds, which howls and sparks as it crosses the sky towards the Twilight Woods. There, the Great Storm breaks. It delivers a single mighty lightning bolt that scorches through the heavy twilight air and plunges into the soft earth beneath. In that instant it turns to solid stormphrax, gleaming in the half-light. Honoured is he who should witness such a sight.”
    ‘Vilnix's eyes gleamed greedily. Pure lightning! he thought. What power must each piece of stormphrax contain. He looked up. “And … errm … what does it look like exactly?”
    ‘The professor's expression became dreamy. “Of unsurpassed beauty,” he said. “A crystal that fizzes, that glows, that sparks…”

    ‘“And yet it is heavy,” said Vilnix. “Or so I learned. But how heavy?”
    ‘“In the twilight of its creation it is no heavier than sand. Yet in the absolute darkness of the treasury at the centre of Sanctaphrax, a thimbleful weighs more than a thousand ironwood trees,” the professor told him. “It provides the counter-balance to the buoyancy of the rock itself. Without it, the floating city would break its moorings and fly off into open sky…”
    ‘Vilnix scratched his head theatrically. “What I don’t understand is this,” he said. “If the crystals and shards are so heavy, then how is the stormphrax brought through the darkness of the tunnels to the treasury in the first place?”
    ‘The Professor of Darkness surveyed the youth gravely. Perhaps,’ said the caterbird, interrupting his own story, ‘just for a moment, he doubted the motives of the young apprentice. I’m not sure. Nor can I say what finally decided him to entrust Vilnix with the information. But entrust him, he did. It was a decision which was to change the course of history in Sanctaphrax. “It is transported in a light-box,” he explained, “with the light it emits calibrated to approximate twilight itself.”
    ‘Vilnix turned away in order to hide his glee. If a light-box could be used to get the stormphrax in, then surely, he reasoned, it could also be used to get some out. “Perhaps I could see some for myself?” he suggested tentatively.
    “‘Absolutely not!” the Professor of Darkness barked – and Vilnix knew he had gone too far. “None may set eyes upon stormphrax,” the professor said. “None save the Knights Academic and the guardian of the treasury –who happens to be myself. It is blasphemy for unworthy eyes to feast upon the purity of stormphrax,” he ranted. “An action, Vilnix, punishable by death.’”
    The caterbird paused dramatically. ‘At that moment, the wind abruptly changed. The floating rock of Sanctaphrax drifted to the west and jerked violently as all the chains went taut.
    “‘I understand,” said Vilnix humbly.
    “‘Ah Vilnix,” the professor continued more gently. “I wonder if you truly do understand.