Skerren locked eyes with Jack. Jack knew he was always on board with anything that involved killing Rüstov. There had been precious few opportunities to do that over the last year.
“We have to do this ourselves,” Jack said. “No one can know about the spyware virus. Not yet. After what people have already heard from Obscuro and Glave, the truth about the virus would put them over the edge. It’d be chaos, and that’s not gonna help stop the Rüstov.”
Skerren rubbed his chin, thinking. “It’s not a terrible idea,” he admitted. He looked like he was starting to come around. “And we do have to take on solo projects for the School of Thought,” Skerren said, thinking out loud. “Can you imagine the look on Trea’s face if the three of us bagged a Secreteer?” He grinned.
“How are we supposed to do that?” Allegra said. “Nobody can find a Secreteer who doesn’t want to be found. Nobody.”
“Actually,” Jack began. “I’ve got an idea where to start looking.”
“Where?” Skerren asked.
“In your part of town,” Jack told Skerren. “Varagog Village.”
CHAPTER
8
The Flying Shipyards
The idea came to Jack out of the blue. He didn’t know much about Secreteers—no one did, really—but what little experience he’d had with them had led him to believe he could find one in Skerren’s backyard. After taking a few moments to rummage through his lab and gather supplies, Jack, Skerren, and Allegra headed south to Varagog.
Like all parts of the Imagine Nation, Varagog Village was a fascinating corner of the world. The medieval borough of Empire City had a mystical quality that went far beyond simply mirroring the culture and lifestyle of a centuries-old era. Varagog Village didn’t just look like the Middle Ages; it was actually in the Middle Ages.
The walls of Varagog surrounded what can best be described as a pocket in time. Inside those walls it was forever the year 1404. Time in Varagog repeated in an infinite loop. It snowed and rained on the same days, year after year. Flowers bloomed and died on the same days, year after year. The only things that changed in Varagog were the people who lived there, and the people who lived there were not fond of change.
As Skerren led Jack and Allegra down the cobblestone streets of his home borough, Jack marveled at the view. He passed grand castles, towers, and other stately manors that had been built over winding stone streets. He climbed great stone stairways lined with shacks, shanties, cabins, cottages, and inns. Varagog was a true old-world village. The people who lived there had jobs like blacksmith, tanner, miller, jester, knight, squire, and king. People of every class were packed into every inch of Varagog. They were all very much attached to their medieval ways and held fast to them despite the availability of modern conveniences that could be imported from the neighboring boroughs.
Varagog was a magical place. Technological devices didn’t work inside the walls, but the people got along just fine without them. There were no NewsNets in the village, but countless magic mirrors reflected SmartNews broadcasts using sorcery that Jack couldn’t begin to understand. In addition to the medieval nobles and peasant townsfolk, the borough was inhabited by all manner of magical creatures from the English realm of Faerie, the Russian Thrice-Ten Kingdom, and countless other places. Secret passageways to the old enchanted lands could be found all throughout Varagog Village if one knew where to look. Jack would have loved to spend hours exploring for such things if he ever had the chance, but he rarely made it down to Empire City’s medieval district. The people of Varagog still had yet to warm up to Jack, and thanks to the Rogue Secreteer, the villagers’ attitude toward him at present was hostile at best and violent at worst.
“A pox on ye, Rüstov!” an old lady yelled at Jack from the window of an inn, and a bucket of dirty dishwater splattered down, just missing him. Jack looked up to see who had poured it out. The perpetrator, a middle-aged woman, made no effort to hide.
“Fool! You missed him!” her ancient neighbor scolded from across the street. It appeared that the recent newscasts had gotten the villagers a little extra worked up.
“Jack, try not to walk so close to me,” Skerren said with a chuckle. “I don’t want to get drenched the next time someone throws their dishwater at you.”
Jack brushed off the water that had splashed onto him and gave Skerren a hard look. “Laugh it up,” he said. “That was hilarious.”
“Calm down,” Skerren replied. “It’s only water.” He kept walking.
There were no more dishwater attacks as the children made their way through the village, but groups of little kids did pop out of alleyways to whip pebbles at Jack and then run away, until Skerren finally scared off his tormentors.
“I can’t get over how the people here are still so blatantly unfriendly toward Jack,” Allegra said. “Even with Obscuro getting people all worked up about the Rüstov again … it’s got to be the only place in Empire City still like this.”
Skerren shrugged. “People here are set in their ways.”
“People here live in the past,” Allegra said.
“That’s true as well,” Skerren said with a wry grin. “Don’t worry. I’m not expecting any more unpleasantness. My warning to those halflings back there should take care of that.”
“They treat you like royalty here, Skerren,” Jack said, noting how all the pestering passersby had stopped bothering him and were now making way for him. Many of them were clearly trying to get Skerren to notice how helpful they were being. “Are you royalty?” Jack asked after considering the situation for a moment.
Skerren’s reply carried an uncharacteristic air of modesty. “No,” he said, almost appearing embarrassed by the question. “But Hovarth has no children, and his opinion of me is well known. These people just honor my word out of respect for their king.”
Jack nodded silently, putting together for himself what Skerren was apparently too humble to say out loud. The general consensus in Varagog was that Hovarth would one day name his sword-wielding protégé to succeed him on the throne. Varagog had countless kings, dukes, counts, and earls, but the one who held sway over all was Hovarth, warrior king of Clan Varren. It was a comforting thought. Jack knew that as long as he followed Skerren through the winding streets of Varagog, he was under Hovarth’s protection as well.
As the group approached the south side of Varagog, Jack could tell Skerren was not entirely sold on the possibility of finding a Secreteer hiding out in his hometown. He led the group up a stone staircase to an arch on the borough’s great wall before stopping. “Here we are,” Skerren said, motioning out past the village’s stone border. “I still don’t know what we’re doing here, though. Secreteers live in Cognito, not Varagog. Everybody knows that.”
“Skerren, I already told you,” Jack said. “You’re not going to find anything wandering around the streets of Cognito. No Secreteers, no nothing. I’ve lived there for a year now, and I’ve never even met one of my neighbors except Stendeval. But I did see a Secreteer on our last mission.”
“No one knows what we saw on our mission,” Allegra told Jack.
“I do,” he replied. “That’s why we’re here.”
Jack reached the top of the staircase and stepped out onto the great wall. He could see everything from up there. It was a beautiful late afternoon. The sun was dipping down behind large puffy clouds with gray tops and pink cotton-candy bottoms. Rays of light shot out from behind them like the golden glow that shines out of a treasure chest with an open lid. Varagog sprawled out beyond the great wall and up to the cliffs of the Imagine Nation. The land in between was covered with the modest workaday homes of peasant villagers and the thriving port district Jack had come to see—the Flying Shipyards.
It was the first time Jack had ever laid eyes on the shipyards. They stood in stark contrast to the futuristic spaceport stations across town in Galaxis. The two ports differed in every way one could possibly imagine. Instead of rocket launchpads and sleek steel runways with perfect
ly aligned landing lights, the Varagog shipyards had wooden docks and boardwalks lit by gas lamps and tiki torches. Rickety wooden decks, long ago hammered together by hand, jutted out over the cliffs of the Imagine Nation and ran far out into the open air.
The Flying Shipyards catered to seafaring vessels of a special sort. All along the docks, ships from dinghies to clippers were lined up and tied off on pylons like they would be at any marina, except that these ships were floating in midair. Just like the flying boat Jack had seen appear in the desert skies of the Real World, these ships had hot air balloons in place of the mainmast and sails. Big and small, the vessels filled the sky like pirate zeppelins. As Jack, Skerren, and Allegra descended the steps toward the shipyards, a giant multidecked galleon passed over them, sailing up into the clouds. Small flaps extended out from the hull on either side so it could catch the wind and steer. It was an impressive sight, but it wasn’t the ship Jack was looking for.
Jack led the way out onto the docks. It was not at all the kind of place anyone would expect to find a member of the Clandestine Order, but Jack knew that if he could find the ship he’d seen, he’d find the Secreteer that sailed it. The memory he had of it was too clear in his head to be a fake. After about twenty minutes of walking the docks looking for the Secreteer’s ship, Jack realized that that was going to be more difficult than he had expected. There were hundreds of ships in the port. So far none of them resembled the one he was looking for.
“I told you this was a waste of time,” Skerren said. “There was no flying ship in the air after our mission. You just remember it that way. You saw what the Secreteer wanted you to see.”
“No,” Jack maintained. “I saw it too clearly. I can still see it.”
“I have a clear picture in my head too,” Skerren said, “of the Secreteer showing up on a flying carpet. You don’t see me taking you guys out to shop for rugs, do you? I should have known better than to listen to you about my own borough. What was I thinking?”
“That you want to catch a Secreteer and impress Trea,” Jack said.
“That’s not why I’m doing this,” Skerren said a little too quickly.
Skerren started toward Jack, but Allegra got in front of him. “Skerren, take it easy,” Allegra said. “Let’s just agree that we’re here because we don’t know where else to look, okay? Unless you have any better ideas …”
Skerren grumbled something Jack couldn’t quite make out, but Jack got the gist of it just the same. If Jack didn’t find the ship in the next five minutes, Skerren was gone. Skerren had grown a lot during the last year, but when push came to shove, Jack knew he was just as headstrong as ever. That didn’t mean he didn’t have a point, though. Jack was starting to wonder if Skerren was right and the flying ship was just a false memory implanted by the Secreteer. He scanned the last few boardwalks on the dock, looking for the Secreteer’s ship, but the port was so busy with all the people, packages, crewmen, and cargo bustling about, it was impossible to be sure if the ship was there or not without walking every inch of the shipyards. Skerren definitely wasn’t going to stick around for that. Jack was about to give up when something familiar caught his eye. Little people wearing white suits with red bandages. The Mysterrii. Three of them, in fact, all making their way to the far end of the docks in a big hurry.
“This way,” Jack said, taking off after them. Skerren and Allegra followed Jack and the Mysterrii along a circuitous route that ran up ladders, down staircases, over barrels and crates, and on through to the very last slip on the westernmost dock in the shipyards. The ever-acrobatic Mysterrii weren’t easy to keep up with. They zigzagged through the crowded docks, weaving their way around people like mice scurrying through a maze, but they led Jack and the others to exactly where they wanted to go: a large wooden ship decorated with shiny gold fixtures, ornately carved figureheads, and stained-glass windows. There was a massive multicolored balloon tied to the deck, and a crew of Mysterrii was working feverishly to fill it with hot air. Standing at the back of the ship, near a large purple bonfire, was the cloaked figure Jack had come here to find. The Secreteer. Jack recognized her by her dreadlocks. She locked eyes with Jack once again, and beneath her hood he saw an eyebrow rise in surprise. This time she resisted the urge to fire clouds of smoke at Jack and his friends. Instead she smiled.
“Hello again, children,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Congratulations. I’m officially impressed.”
CHAPTER
9
Hypnova
“Razza frazza!” the agitated Mysterrii shouted at Jack and his friends. “Razza frazza! RAZZA FRAZZA!”
Jack, Skerren, and Allegra stopped short a few feet away from the boat, their path to the Secreteer’s ship blocked by a pack of Mysterrii. They were hopping around, shouting gibberish, and waving sticks to keep them back.
“Friendly little buggers, aren’t they?” Allegra said to Jack.
Jack shook his head. “I’ve never seen them in such a frenzy. I’ve never even seen them stay in one place long enough to get this worked up.” He put up his hands to show he meant no harm. “Easy, fellas! We’re not looking for any trouble.”
“But we know where to find it,” Skerren said, reaching for one of his swords. It was clear that the Mysterrii had no intention of getting out of the way.
“Stay your hand!” the Secreteer called out from the aft deck of her ship. “If you want to keep a single memory in your head after you leave this place, you’ll keep that sword in its scabbard.”
Skerren dropped his hand back to his side, empty. “I was just going to scare them,” he said.
The Secreteer gave Skerren a reproachful look before turning to the Mysterrii. “Concern yourselves with the bonfire and making those flames hotter,” she told her miniature crewmen. “We need more hot air or we’ll never get past the falls.” The Mysterrii grumbled and turned away. Over at the fire they sprang into action, prying open large barrels of purple powder and shoveling it into the large flaming cauldron. “You’ll have to excuse my crew,” the Secreteer said to Jack and Allegra as they approached the edge of the dock, with Skerren lagging behind. “The Mysterrii have been in the service of the Secreteers for ages. They’re very passionate, but they’ve yet to develop any sense of manners or social grace.”
“That’s okay,” Allegra replied. “We’ve got the same problem with Skerren.” She chuckled and gave Skerren a friendly shove. He replied with a sour smirk and a sarcastic “Ha-ha-ha.” Jack watched a smile form on the Secreteer’s lips. He wondered what a mysterious woman who had already shot smoke down his throat for daring to look in her direction knew about manners and social grace. He looked over at the fidgety Mysterrii, who were still hopping around and grumbling, and decided it was all relative.
“How much longer?” the Secreteer asked the pint-size crewmen, who were busy stoking the flames in the blazing cauldron beneath the ship’s balloon.
“Zavva-zaazza. Frezza-fap!” was their unintelligible reply.
“Very well,” the Secreteer said. She turned back to Jack and his friends. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Hypnova. It appears my ship will be ready for takeoff in less than ten minutes. If you wish to speak with me, I can give you until then.” A gloved hand emerged from the folds of the Secreteer’s cloak and untied a golden rope on the railing. A wooden staircase lowered itself down to the dock. “This way,” the enigmatic ship captain said, motioning for Jack to come forth.
Jack climbed on board, but just as his feet hit the deck, Hypnova stepped forward onto the top step, blocking Skerren and Allegra’s path. “Not you,” she said to Jack’s friends. “Just Jack.”
The children all traded surprised looks. “No way,” Skerren protested. “We’re a team.”
“Hypnova …,” Jack said. “Skerren’s right. We’re together on this thing.”
Hypnova gestured in the direction Jack had come from. “You can stay or you can go,” she replied. “The choice is yours.”
Jack was abou
t to argue, but Allegra waved him off. “Just go, Jack,” she said. “We’ll wait out here. It’s okay.”
Jack grimaced. “Guess I’ll see you guys in ten minutes?”
“Guess so,” Skerren said. “Thanks a lot.”
“This way,” Hypnova told Jack as Skerren and Allegra went back down the stairs to the dock. Jack felt bad leaving his friends behind, but he knew he couldn’t walk away from a meeting with a Secreteer. Hypnova was their only lead on Obscuro.
Jack followed Hypnova belowdecks to a modest-size cabin decorated with pictures and souvenirs from her travels all around the world. She motioned to a set of handcrafted wooden chairs arranged around some food and drinks and invited him to have a seat. Jack’s guilt gave way to a surge of excitement as he entered. He was inside a Secreteer’s hideaway. She was going to speak with him. Voluntarily! Jack doubted many people in the Imagine Nation ever got this close to a member of the Clandestine Order’s inner sanctum. Fewer still had ever seen a Secreteer’s face. She was even more beautiful than Jack remembered.
A loud sound flapped through the cabin as the Secreteer removed her cloak, shook it out, and hung it on a hook. Beneath her flowing black shroud the Secreteer was young and vibrant. She had dark black skin and hazel eyes that didn’t glow without her hood, but still glistened in the soft light of the cabin. Hypnova cut an energetic, stylish figure in a bright green and gold outfit. With knee-high boots on her feet, a golden saber on her hip, and a shining cape on her back, she looked like a dashing buccaneer or some kind of pirate queen. A gorgeous pirate queen.
Jack stared, speechless, transfixed by her stunning appearance. Hypnova laughed. “Jack, please,” she said. “Relax. Help yourself to some refreshments.”
Embarrassed, Jack quickly shook himself out of the minor trance he’d lapsed into. He grabbed some fruit from the buffet platter and hurried into a chair. Trying to recover, Jack started to introduce himself, but the Secreteer cut him off.
The Secret War Page 9