The Rubicus Prophecy

by Alane Adams

  Calla touched her arm. “That’s what you saw in Melistra’s class?”

  Abigail nodded, biting her lip to hold back the tears. “Madame Arisa told me to just ignore it, but how can I?” It was all just too much happening at once.

  “Well, we’ll add that to the list of things to sort out,” Calla said gently.

  “Right,” Hugo said. “We’ll find a way to get rid of this ghost. And silence that spellbook once and for all.”

  “Can we please just get to searching Endera’s room?” Robert drawled in a bored voice.

  “It’s a few flights down.” Abigail swiped at her eyes. “But Calla and I should go first, to make sure no one’s around.” She opened the door and looked out, listening. The tower was quiet. Most of the girls would still be at the dinner, but there was always the chance someone had stayed behind.

  “Wait here,” she said, but Robert pushed past and began clambering down the stairs. “Oh, bother!” She hurried after him, with Calla and Hugo at her heels.

  He paused at the first landing. “This floor?”

  “No, it’s—”

  He took off, making enough noise to wake a herd of sneevils.

  “This one?” he asked at the next landing.

  “No. Would you please just slow down?”

  But he’d already hurried on. This went on until they reached the third floor.

  “This one,” he said, sounding confident.

  “Yes.” Abigail caught her breath, her heart pounding.

  He was already moving down the hall, reading the nameplates. He stopped when he saw Endera’s name.

  Abigail hissed at him, “Don’t you dare go in there—”

  But the insolent boy had already pushed the door open and stepped inside. He popped his head back out. “You three wait here. Keep an eye out while I find my sword.”

  “I’m not letting you go in there alone,” Abigail said. “Calla can keep an eye out. Besides, Hugo can’t be seen if anyone comes.”

  Calla didn’t like it, but she agreed to wait outside as the three of them crowded into Endera and Glorian’s room.

  “So what does this sword of yours look like?” Abigail asked, placing the spellbook on Endera’s dresser.

  “Er, it’s shiny and long.” He lifted up a mattress and looked under the bed.

  “Does it look like the sword at your waist?” Abigail asked.

  “Yeah, just like it,” he said absently, continuing his search.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t lose your sword, did you?”

  “What? Yes, I mean—”

  “Just what is it that Endera took from you? Tell us now, or so help me—”

  “What are you going to do, use witch magic on me?” Robert looked defiant and scared at the same time.

  “Hey.” Hugo stepped between them. “Abigail wouldn’t do that. Just tell us what’s really going on, and maybe we can help you.”

  Robert’s face fell as he sat down on Endera’s bed. “I can’t. It’s too awful. If my father finds out—”

  A door slammed below, and the angry clomping of boots sounded on the stairs. Calla opened the door and quickly shut it behind her. “Endera’s coming. What do we do?”

  “Out the window.” Abigail opened it and shoved them out before her. They clung to the ivy just below the ledge as the bedroom door banged open.

  Endera’s waspy voice rang out. “Can you believe the nerve of that girl, leaving in the middle of dinner? Who does she think she is?”

  “I don’t know, maybe she wasn’t hungry,” Glorian said.

  “No, she’s up to something. I saw her leave with that glitch-witch. They followed that Orkadian boy. He mustn’t be allowed to tell them what happened. Mother will be very angry.”

  “You mean the secret that you can’t tell?” Nelly asked.

  “Yes. Why is the window open? Did you leave it that way, Glorian?”

  “No. You know I hate drafts.”

  “Look, my spellbook is back! Some little rathos was in my room.”

  Footsteps echoed. Endera was coming to the window. She was going to see them.

  “Abigail, there’s not enough ivy below us,” Hugo whispered.

  They were trapped.

  And then Endera’s head appeared in the window, looking down at them. Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “Looky here, I see some little rathos sneaking around.”

  Glorian and Nelly’s heads popped out on either side.

  “What are they doing down there?” Glorian asked.

  Nelly sneered. “Spying on us, obviously.”

  “Endera, we were just playing a prank,” Abigail said. “We’re sorry. We’re climbing back in now.”

  “Oh, no. That just won’t do,” Endera said. “You see, that boy is trouble. And I don’t need him reporting back to his father. So you will all get what you deserve.” She opened the spellbook Abigail had returned, flipped open to a page, and said, “Tertesia vidaflora victa.”

  A cold draft washed over Abigail.

  “Everyone hold on,” she called.

  She was sure Endera was going to send them crashing to the ground, but instead, the ropes of ivy started to shimmy and writhe, as though they were alive, wrapping sinuously around Abigail’s waist and arms.

  “Abigail, the ivy is moving,” Hugo said.

  “No kidding,” she snapped. “Calla, witchfire.”

  They both raised their hands, but nothing came out.

  “Sorry, Abigail,” Endera called, “the spell blocks your witchfire. Ta ta!” She waggled her fingers. “It’s been nice knowing you.”

  She slammed the window shut.

  “What’s happening?” Robert called. “I can hardly breathe.”

  “Endera enchanted the ivy,” Abigail gasped out. “She used dark magic from the spellbook … Traitor,” she mumbled to herself.

  Sorry, dark witch. I can’t refuse her. But you know what to do. I gave you a spell …

  “No,” Abigail said firmly.

  “No, what?” Hugo answered, his voice strangled. “I can’t breathe. Abigail, do something or we’re all going to die.”

  The ivy slid up Abigail’s waist and wrapped around her chest, tightening like iron bands. Two more vines wrapped around her neck.

  Calla looked at her calmly. “I know you can do it, Abigail. Whatever it is. Just do it.”

  “Now!” Hugo gasped.

  The words came to her unwillingly—the words she had seen in the spellbook next to that awful backward clock. Endera might have blocked her witchfire, but would she be able to block her dark magic?

  Closing her eyes, she whispered the words the spellbook had given her. “Mendecana forbidium della entrancia.”

  Hugo looked at her with frightened eyes as a rancid-smelling mist rose up around them. “Abigail, what did you do?”

  As the mist swirled, an icy cold jolted her bones, the world tilted, and then they were gone.

  Chapter 14

  “Hello?”

  Hugo took his glasses off, wiping away the dampness that blurred his vision. Abigail had done something with her magic. He had a bad feeling in his bones about it. Like the time she had sent those witchlings to the netherworld.

  Putting his glasses back on, Hugo took a good look around. They were in a cave of some kind. Rocky walls surrounded them, glistening with moisture. He could make out three lumps next to him. Calla roused next, swaying as she got to her feet. Then Robert leaped up and looked anxiously around, one hand on his sword.

  Abigail remained still, the slight rise and fall of her chest the only sign she was alive.

  Hugo crawled to her side. “Abigail, wake up. Tell us what you’ve done.”

  “Yeah.” Robert dropped to one knee and gave her a hard poke in the shoulder. “Where are we? What did you do?”

  “Hey!” Hugo shoved him away. “Leave her alone. She saved us from getting choked to death by that ivy Endera enchanted, which only happened thanks to you, since you made us go into her room in the
first place.”

  “Yeah, well, I would have rather taken on that pie-faced witch than get sent to some strange place. I have to get back before my father finds out I’m gone.”

  Calla knelt down and placed two hands on Abigail’s cheeks. “Come now, Abigail, that’s no way to act. You’re just scared to wake up. We need you here now.” She snapped her fingers, and Abigail’s eyes flew open.

  “What?” She gasped, her chest heaving as she looked around at the three of them. “Tell me I didn’t—”

  “You did,” Hugo said, “if you mean did you use magic to save us from that killer ivy. What kind of spell was it exactly?”

  Her eyes slid away from his. “Nothing special. Just something I read about in my Horrible Hexes class.”

  “I’ve never heard that spell before,” Calla said. “And I’m up to date on all my readings.”

  “Oh, fine, it was something Endera’s spellbook told me,” Abigail snapped. “I didn’t want to use it—I don’t even like that spellbook—but it won’t leave me alone. It can’t be all bad, it saved our lives, didn’t it?”

  Hugo wasn’t so sure. That spellbook had nothing good in it, as far as he was concerned. “Well, we can’t worry about that now,” he said. “We have to figure out where exactly you sent us.”

  Abigail nibbled on her lip. “That’s complicated.”

  “Is it the netherworld?” Hugo asked. The stony walls reminded him of that awful place.

  “No. It’s not another realm. At least, I don’t think it is. Actually, I’m not sure where we are, but … there’s more to it. If I understood the spell … it’s also another time.”

  The three of them stared at her with looks of shock and fear.

  “Time? What does that mean?” Hugo asked.

  “I mean we’re somewhere in the past. The spell had a clock with the hands running backward.”

  “The past? I can’t be stuck in the past.” Robert grabbed his head with both hands. “This is awful. I have to get back now to get my—”

  “Sword?” Abigail finished, folding her arms and giving him a look. “The sword that’s right there on your waist?”

  He glared at her but when she didn’t flinch, his face crumpled. “You’re right. It wasn’t a sword Endera stole. It was a lot worse.”

  “Tell us what she took,” Hugo said.

  “The truth this time.”

  He dragged in a deep breath before muttering, “Fine. If you must know, she stole Odin’s Stone.”

  Hugo’s jaw dropped as Calla and Abigail both gasped. “Not the—”

  “Yes, the Odin’s Stone,” Robert shouted, looking like he was about to cry. “The one and only thing that stands between us and the witches.”

  “How did Endera manage to steal Odin’s Stone?” Abigail asked.

  Robert began to pace in the small cave. “It wasn’t my fault, I swear. I was guarding this old armory as part of my summer training. I thought my father was punishing me, sending me out into the middle of nowhere.” He stopped, shaking his head. “I didn’t know, I swear, what was inside. Endera started chatting me up, and before I knew it, we were inside and she was looking at racks of dusty old swords. Then she wanted to know what was in this wooden box, and since I didn’t know, I said so, and she popped the lock open with some spell. When I saw the Stone inside, I knew then it was a trick, but it was too late. Someone came up behind me, and the next thing I knew, I was out cold.”

  “How come you didn’t tell anyone?” Calla asked.

  A pained look crossed his face. “Because it was the same time they let loose that pack of sneevils around town. Everything was mad chaos. People were running through the village screaming. I was nearly gored by a sneevil. I tried to find her, but the witches had vanished.”

  “How come no one’s raised an alarm?” Hugo asked. “Why hasn’t your father demanded it back?”

  “Because he doesn’t know it’s missing,” Robert said glumly. “I dug up a rock from the back and placed it inside the box. You’d have to open it to see the difference, and no one goes in there much. I don’t get what’s so special about it. It’s just a hunk of granite.”

  “Er, a hunk of granite your forefather Odin blessed with powerful magic,” Hugo reminded him. “The kind of magic that keeps the witches, the bad witches,” he added with a quick glance at their two companions, “from taking over Orkney and wreaking havoc. We have to find it.”

  “But how can we? This one”—he pointed at Abigail—“sent us back in time somewhere.”

  “You know, you’re rather mean when you’re in a corner,” Calla said. “Kind of like a wild cat. You should be nicer to us. We’re only trying to help you, after all.”

  “Sorry.” His shoulders drooped. “You’re right. It’s just … I really messed up. Do you think we can fix it?”

  “That depends when we are.” Hugo looked around. “I suppose we’ll have to explore and find out what we’re up against.”

  “Then first things first, we need to get out of this cave,” Abigail said. “Light’s coming from over there. Let’s follow it and see where it leads.”

  It didn’t take long to exit the small cave. It had been formed by a pile of boulders atop a knoll. Outside, the day was gray and overcast. Thick clouds shielded the sun.

  “Any guesses where are we?” Hugo asked.

  “I think I know,” Robert said excitedly. “This is Garamond. My home island. I recognize that mountain.” He pointed at a distant peak. “It’s near Skara Brae, but”—he frowned—“the city isn’t over there where it should be.”

  “So which way do we go?” Calla asked.

  “Um, I rather think over there.” Hugo pointed. A plume of smoke rose in the air from a distant stone fortress.

  “What is that place?” Robert asked. “I don’t recognize it.”

  “Whatever it is doesn’t look like good news,” Hugo said.

  “I don’t understand,” Robert said as they hiked down the hillside. “Skara Brae is a huge city. It should be right there.”

  “Maybe it hasn’t been built yet,” Abigail said. “I mean, we don’t know when we are. Maybe we’re here before it was built.”

  “But that would mean …” His face paled. “By Odin’s breath, that’s a long time ago. I remember there was another fortress near it. I just can’t … Argh, I wish I’d paid more attention in history class.”

  “We’ll be there soon enough,” Calla said.

  As she spoke, a shadow crossed the ground, and they ducked as a gigantic winged creature passed overhead. It was similar to an Omera, only four times as big. Battle scars crisscrossed its chest, and its eyes glowed like hot coals. It bellowed loudly, and flames belched from its long snout.

  “What was that?” Robert cried.

  “No idea,” Hugo said. “It looked like an Omera, only—”

  “Omera’s aren’t that big, and they don’t belch fire,” Calla finished.

  “Exactly.” Hugo flipped through his notebook. “I remember reading something about an ancient creature—it’s in here somewhere.”

  “Never mind what it is,” Abigail said. “It’s coming back. Run!”

  The creature spun about midair and chased after them, spraying fire that seared the backs of their legs.

  “Calla, protection spell, now.” Abigail turned and cast her hands out. Calla joined her, and the two girls shouted, “Escudo!”

  A bubble of energy sprang up around them. The flames bounced off it, heating the inside, but the shield held until the beast passed over.

  Abigail’s arms trembled with fatigue as she and Calla dropped their hands. Magic like that was draining. Her legs felt weak, as though she’d run a mile.

  “It’s circling back,” Robert shouted.

  “I don’t know if I can do that again,” Calla said.

  But the beast cocked its head to one side, as if it heard a silent call, and veered off, winging toward the fortress.

  “I found it,” Hugo said triumphantly, snappi
ng a finger at his journal. “It’s a Safyre Omera. We should really find shelter before it changes its mind and comes back.”

  No one argued as they hurried down the hill. Before them, a small army dressed in black armor with gilded red helmets milled on a battleground in front of the fortress. Bursts of green flame flashed across the field, and winged Omeras wheeled through the air.

  The smaller army was surrounded by battalions of fair-haired female warriors with golden armor, riding atop white steeds. They outnumbered the red-helmeted soldiers three to one, bringing their flanks around and tightening the circle, crowding the smaller army into a knot. Flaming arrows filled the sky, and the air echoed with the clang of steel meeting steel.

  “This is terrible,” Calla said. “They’re wiping out that army.”

  “Who’s fighting who?” Robert asked.

  “Don’t any of you read?” Hugo said. “The ones in golden armor are Valkyries.” He said the name with awe. “Guardians of the gods.” He turned to the others. “I think I know where we are. This is the Volgrim Fortress, and that’s the last stand of the he-witches. This is where Rubicus lost his head. Look.”

  He pointed up at a gap in the clouds. The blistered face of the sun appeared. It was streaked with ugly red veins.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Robert said.

  “The red sun.” Abigail’s voice trembled. “The curse Rubicus placed and then lost control of. We have to find him.”

  “Who?” Hugo asked.

  “Rubicus.”

  “Why?”

  Her eyes were hollow as they met his. “Because he’s calling to me.”

  Chapter 15

  Athrobbing pulse beat in Abigail’s head. It had begun as soon as the fortress had come into sight—a faint whisper that repeated the same oily tinged sentence over and over.

  Hurry scurry, little witch. Rubicus waits for you.

  It couldn’t be the spellbook, all the way here, but the voice was unmistakable.

  “I have to get inside,” Abigail said.

  Robert grabbed her arm. “We can’t go into that battle. We’ll be cut down.”