Carl looked dejected. “I thought they’d be happy for us,” he said moodily.
“Theo’s right, Carl,” Ian told his injured friend. “And I think we should keep all our plans as private as possible from now on. You never know who might be listening.”
“I quite agree,” Theo said smartly. “After all, we’ve no idea how the sorcerers knew Jaaved and I were at the shore today. I think it best if we tell no one what we’re up to. That way, we can be certain to escape to Spain without anyone being the wiser.”
Carl lifted his chin and regarded Theo. “You think there might be a spy working for Demogorgon’s lot?”
Theo sighed and paused on her way up the stairs to gaze at them both soberly. “My intuition is insisting that we should be careful, Carl,” she whispered. “Very, very careful about what we tell anyone from now on.”
Ian couldn’t help looking suspiciously back down the stairs at all the children he’d shared his home with the whole of his life. He hated the niggling feeling of mistrust forming in the pit of his stomach.
Several hours later a figure clad all in black hurried away from Castle Dover and through the seaside village to a waiting motorcar. The door to the auto opened and the figure climbed inside, then closed the door quickly before speaking to the driver. “They leave the day after tomorrow,” she said.
“Where?” asked the driver.
“To Spain.”
“Spain?”
“Yes. To Madrid.”
“What is it they seek in Spain?”
“The earl’s maidservant didn’t know. All she could say for certain was that the earl’s plans had changed at the last minute, and that he intends to take the children with him on the journey.”
The driver was silent for a long time. “Master will insist we find out why they are going there.”
“Yes, my thoughts exactly.”
“We have friends in Madrid,” he said after a pause. “But I would not trust them to uncover this information alone, and I cannot go. I received a telegram from the master earlier this evening. He needs my assistance in Versailles. I must depart for France immediately.”
“I can go alone, Dieter,” volunteered the passenger.
Again the driver was silent while he contemplated that. “Very well,” he said, relenting. “Follow them, Hylda. Once you arrive in Madrid, make contact with our Spanish comrades and enlist their help to discover why the children are journeying there.”
“Of course,” she replied with a wickedly sly smile she reserved only for her husband.
“And if you gain the opportunity …,” he added, allowing his voice to trail off.
“Kill them?” she asked coyly, stroking his cheek.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “And have no doubt, liebling, if you do, our master will be most pleased.” And then he leaned in to give her a kiss. “Most pleased indeed,” he whispered again before starting the car and driving off.
A DARK MEETING
Magus the Black sat across from the Witch of Versailles and was already irritated by the woman’s nervous manner. Since he and Dieter had entered her dirty and cluttered flat, he’d been unimpressed, and he had already made up his mind to kill her for wasting his time.
He watched her with disdain while she hovered over her crystal ball, waving her shaking fingers and muttering under her breath. He’d asked the woman only one question, “Where is my sister, Lachestia?” and for the past several minutes, she’d been mumbling incoherently, delaying her answer.
Magus looked over his shoulder at Dieter, who only shook his head contemptuously and frowned as the woman muttered on and on under her breath.
Magus turned back to the witch, his eyes smoldering with impatience. He knew she could sense the evil that wafted off him, but it had made the woman almost too petrified to help him, and he was quickly becoming tired of it. He allowed her only a few more moments before he slammed his fist onto the tabletop, causing sparks to fly out from the impact. “Speak, woman!” he shouted at her.
The witch was so startled that she reeled backward and nearly toppled out of her chair, but Magus’s outburst seemed to shake some sense into her, and the ugly middle-aged woman gasped, “She resides in a grave!”
Magus’s sneer turned sinister. “If you are telling me that my sister is dead, then we are finished here.” The sorcerer knew that his sister lived. Her passing would most definitely have been noted by his father when her spirit was received in the underworld.
“I did not say she was dead,” the witch added in a rush. “I meant to say that she resides underground.”
Magus tapped his fingers on the tabletop, and each tap left a black smudge in the wood. “Where?” he asked after a long silence.
The witch wiped a strand of stringy gray hair out of her eyes and focused on her crystal ball again. “She is imprisoned by stones,” she said to him. “Deep within a forest bound by a powerful curse. Within the earth that surrounds her are the bones of dead men, too numerous to count.”
Magus’s fingers ceased their tapping. “Where?” he repeated, and this time his tone was deadly.
The witch closed her eyes to concentrate. “East,” she whispered. “Just the other side of Germany. You will find your sister at the German/Polish border on the edge of a village … called …” The witch’s voice trailed off for a moment as she concentrated. “Lubieszyn!”
Magus leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, considering what the witch had told him. He was well aware of the legend regarding the last sighting of Lachestia. He recalled the time, some three thousand years earlier, when word had reached him that the sorceress had destroyed a series of villages during her personal raid on the lands east of the Rhine River, and that she had entered a forest rumored to be cursed and was never seen again. He suspected that the legend might be true, especially as the witch had just unwittingly revealed a significant clue.
Only his Druid ancestors had power over the likes of Magus and his sisters. In the early days, after Magus and his siblings had destroyed their own village, the elders of all the Druid tribes had gathered and focused their mortal yet considerable magic to create powerful structures capable of imprisoning the demigods.
These structures were made of standing stones—huge monoliths positioned in a ring and inscribed with ancient magical symbols that could slowly drain all the power right out of any of Demogorgon’s offspring. It would take many thousands of years to eventually render Magus and his sisters completely powerless and send them to the underworld to greet their father—unless the stone tasted a drop of their blood; then their demise would speed along quite rapidly. But no living person knew that besides Magus and his sisters.
Still, the threat of the stones was enough to cause him to avoid places like Stonehenge and Grimspound—and Delphi Keep, for that matter.
He could often feel the power of the standing stones he knew must be buried somewhere underneath the structure that housed those cursed children, because he could never make it within half a kilometer of the keep before feeling his powers weaken. And that wretched portal was protected as well, by another series of stones, which covered the entrance.
So if the Witch of Versailles was right, and his sister Lachestia had ventured unwittingly into a forest with a ring of hidden standing stones, then she could very well have been entrapped by them.
While Magus was thinking on this, he noticed the witch eyeing him cautiously. She seemed to want to say more, but again looked too frightened to speak. “What?” he snapped when she remained mute.
The witch shivered with fright, but she still managed to answer the sorcerer. “The forest that imprisons your sister is cursed, Sir Magus. If you enter the wood, I fear you too will be trapped.”
“What power fuels this curse?” he pressed, testing her.
“An ancient one,” whispered the witch. “Set in stone.”
Magus smiled and decided not to kill the witch after all. “I’m also looking for some children,” he said casu
ally. “A boy named Ian and his sister, Theo. I mean to find them at their most vulnerable and destroy them. Can you divine when and where I might have an opportunity to carry out my desire?”
The witch looked doubtfully back into her crystal ball. She gulped and eyed the sorcerer nervously again. “They are well protected,” she said. “There are many who gather round these children to ensure their safety.”
Magus nodded, understanding fully.
“At this time, Sir Magus, I cannot discover the moment when they will be made vulnerable to you, but I shall keep looking if you’d like.”
Magus reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a large gold coin, which he tossed at the witch. She caught it easily. “I’d like that very much, witch. Very much indeed.”
MADRID
I an, Carl, and Theo sat lazily on the train, all three of them looking absently out the window at the scenery flashing by. It had changed little on their progression south through France and Spain.
They passed farm after farm and had certainly seen enough grapevines to last a lifetime. The only thing that seemed to change was the steadily increasing temperature. It was hot and muggy inside the train, and Ian pulled at his damp shirt and looked longingly out the open window, which gave at least a little relief from the hot summer day.
Beside him Theo squirmed and murmured something, and Ian realized she was asleep. Carl had also dozed off and Ian was just thinking about doing the same when Theo’s murmurs became more agitated. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and she brushed him off angrily. “Theo,” he said into her ear. “You’re dreaming.”
Theo gasped and bolted awake. “No!” she shouted, and blinked rapidly while she looked about in a wide-eyed panic.
“What’s happening?” Carl grumbled from the opposite side of their box compartment.
“Theo’s had a bad dream.” Ian placed his hand on her arm. “You all right?”
Theo’s breathing was ragged. “I’ve had the most awful nightmare.”
“Theo?” said a voice, and they all looked up to see the earl staring at them from the open door of the compartment, his face concerned.
“I’m fine, my lord,” she said quickly, but Ian noticed that she reached up to clutch the crystal at her neck. “Just a bad dream.”
The earl smiled but the concern never left his eyes. “Well, I’m quite relieved to see you’re all right. We’re coming into Madrid in a bit. Might be prudent to look lively and gather your belongings together.”
“Yes, my lord,” they all said, and for the first time in the two long days their journey had taken them, Ian felt an intense excitement build in the center of his chest.
“I hope we get something to eat soon,” Carl complained.
“I’ll just be glad to be off this train,” Ian told him while reaching up for his satchel just above their heads. “I feel like we’ve been boxed in for ages.”
Carl suddenly pointed out the window and exclaimed, “Oy! Look over there! We’re coming into the city!”
All three of them eagerly leaned forward and stared out the window as the first signs of Madrid came into view.
Ian could hardly believe his eyes when the teeming capital of Spain unveiled itself in quick flashes of majestic cathedrals, gilded statues, beautiful old stone buildings, and more modern architecture.
In some respects, Madrid reminded him very much of London; in other ways, it held fiercely to its own unique personality, and he could not wait to set off and explore it.
Finally, the conductor made the announcement that they were coming into the Madrid station, and the three orphans gathered up their belongings. When the train slowed to a stop, Ian heard snatches of conversation coming from some of the other passengers and he smiled, because he could understand them all perfectly, thanks to the small pouch he wore round his neck and the tiny piece of magical opal tucked inside.
Standing beside him, Carl must have been thinking the same thing, because he said, “Lucky for us Jaaved gave us each a piece of the Star, eh, mate?”
Ian nodded and was about to turn to answer his friend when he felt someone staring at him. He looked up to see a woman with black hair quickly turn her face away. Ian would have thought nothing of it if he hadn’t noticed a man a few paces away looking from the woman to Ian and back again.
The stranger held his attention mostly because he appeared to be the most physically powerful person Ian had ever seen. He had dark olive skin, black curly hair, and a well-trimmed beard. His physique was nothing short of intimidating as he all but towered over the other passengers, with his huge broad shoulders, and arms thick with corded muscle. The man also carried himself with the confidence and alertness of a warrior.
His attire was fairly simple: he wore a white linen shirt, black trousers, and shiny leather boots. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal his strong arms, and around each of his wrists was a beautiful bronze cuff. The stranger’s face was square, broad, and handsome. His intense eyes suggested a keenness of mind. He stared without blinking at Ian, as if he were daring the boy to say something.
Embarrassed, Ian nodded, and the stranger nodded back, but Ian’s primary attention quickly returned to the woman he’d caught staring at them. Her face was still turned away, and he thought he might have imagined her interest in him.
He didn’t have time to consider these two longer, because the doors to the train opened, and people began to shuffle forward. Ian stayed back with Carl and Theo as the woman exited quickly, followed closely but discreetly by the powerful man with the bronze cuffs.
The earl found them and encouraged them to exit as well. “Children!” he called from several people back. “Wait for us out on the platform.”
Ian nodded and held firmly to Theo’s hand while he moved into the aisle and shuffled along with all the other passengers to the exit. They squirmed their way off the train, and once on the platform, they waited for the other members of their party. The earl came first, followed by the professor, who appeared stiff and sore from the long journey.
Ian gave a cursory look around for the man with the cuffs, but he and the woman were nowhere to be seen.
“Do we all have our luggage?” asked the earl when he and the professor joined them.
“Yes, my lord,” they all answered.
“Very well,” said the earl. “Let’s see about acquiring a taxi, shall we?”
The earl led the way through the crowd to the street, where cars and people bustled about, and he waved his hand for a car. All the taxicabs passing them were full, but then Ian spotted a rather run-down cab parked just a few meters away, and noticed the woman with the dark hair talking urgently to the driver.
Ian looked for the man with the bronze cuffs again and found him nearby, pretending to read a newspaper.
Ian wondered what sort of relationship the pair had when, to his surprise, the woman handed the taxi driver several bills before darting quickly away. Ian thought it quite curious that she’d paid the driver without getting into the motorcar. He would have thought on it longer, but at that moment he realized the driver was waving to him. “You there!” the man called.
Ian’s eyes opened wide with surprise. “Me?” he called back.
“Yes!” said the man, moving forward with a broad, friendly smile. “Do you need a taxicab today?”
The earl had stopped trying to hail the many cabs whizzing past and turned his attention to Ian. “Master Wigby,” he said softly but sharply. “Remember to be careful not to give your language skills away!”
Ian quickly tore his eyes from the approaching taxi driver. “I’m terribly sorry, my lord,” he whispered. The earl had warned the children about wearing their pieces of the Star, as he thought their adeptness with the native Spanish spoken around them might call attention to them, but Ian, Theo, and Carl had all been reluctant to comply.
The earl laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Very well, lad, tell me what he’s saying, but in a whisper, if you please.”
&
nbsp; “He wants to know if we’d like a taxi.”
“Oh, how convenient,” said the earl, already picking up his bags and preparing to walk toward the man waving them over to his car.
“Wait,” Ian said, catching the earl by the sleeve.
“What is it, lad?” asked the earl.
Ian looked around him. Something didn’t feel quite right, especially when he realized he’d lost sight of not only the woman with the black hair, but the man with the bronze cuffs too.
Unfortunately, Ian had no time to express his concern, because the taxi driver had reached them and was already lifting the earl’s bags for him. “You want taxi?” he asked enthusiastically, his voice heavy with an accent, which was the only way Ian was able to determine he was now speaking English.
“That’s exactly what we’d like, my good man,” said the professor, leaning heavily on his walking stick as he set off for the taxi. Before Ian could say another word, Carl and Theo had picked up their satchels and were following the professor to the motorcar.
“Is everything all right, Master Wigby?” said the earl, obviously still waiting for Ian to reveal what he’d wanted to tell him. But the driver was still standing in front of them, nodding eagerly as he pointed to his taxi.
“You come. I will take you, no?”
“Er …,” Ian said. “Everything’s fine, my lord. Just a bit tired from the journey, I suppose.”
“Well, then,” the earl said, tipping his hat to the driver as they began to walk toward the waiting motorcar. “Let us make haste to our final destination, shall we?”
Ian had little choice but to hurry along to the taxi, where the professor was already waving the slip of paper with Señora Castillo’s address on it at the driver. “We’d like to go here,” the professor insisted when the driver finished putting their bags into the boot of the car.
“Yes, yes,” the driver assured after looking at the address and smiling broadly at them. Ian found his smile and good nature quite disarming. “We go now, yes?”
The Curse of Deadman's Forest Page 7