by Kyle Shultz
Crispin opened his mouth, apparently trying to summon the Undine song-magic he’d used earlier. Again, nothing.
“This probably means I can’t shift into human form, either,” said Malcolm. “Oh, the horror.”
“Really?” said Cordelia, surprised.
“No, of course not,” he scoffed. “I’m thrilled! I hate being human. I only do it to keep the blasted Council from getting their knickers in a twist. If it were up to me, I’d do everything in dragon form.”
“Me too,” said Crispin. “But instead, I got stuck with fins.” He gave me an accusing look.
“For the seventeenth time,” I said, “I am sorry. I didn’t have any other choice.”
“I know you didn’t,” said Crispin.
“But you’re still angry with me!”
“Welcome to my world,” Cordelia muttered.
“If I may interrupt the family squabble,” said Malcolm, “we have another problem. Look down.”
“I’d rather not,” I said, feeling my stomach lurch. My fear of flying had diminished somewhat since my transformation, but I still wasn’t fond of heights.
“I insist,” said Malcolm sternly.
We all crept towards his shoulders to peer over his wings, Crispin dragging himself along with some difficulty. What we saw below took our breath away.
We were above the rocky beach outside of Warrengate, on the seaward side of the island. Strangely, the windows of the school were almost all dark now aside from a few tiny, twinkling lights that were probably candles. But what really arrested our attention was the horde of shambling figures in the surf. Legions of skeletons were rising from the water, sweeping up toward the academy in a relentless wave. There seemed to be no end to their numbers. Linus the gargoyle, I noticed, was sitting up on the roof, well out of harm’s way. Coward.
“Do you see Molly anywhere?” asked Crispin, searching the waves for any sign of the Nautilus. “She must be somewhere down there, directing the attack.”
“If she is,” said Malcolm, “she’ll probably keep well back and let her minions do the dirty work. Typical Undine battle strategy.”
I watched the vast army in disbelief. “Just how many people have drowned in this ocean, anyway?!”
“Over the past two thousand years?” said Malcolm. “Quite a few, I imagine.”
“And, of course, they’ve all heard the Sea Witch’s Lullaby,” said Crispin. “Because who hasn’t. Why did that stupid song even become popular? It’s creepy!”
“So is Rock-A-Bye-Baby,” I pointed out.
“Rock-A-Bye-Baby doesn’t summon skeleton armies! Or take away magical powers!”
“Well, this song does,” said Cordelia. “Which means we can’t use magic to fight those creatures.”
“Why isn’t anyone at least trying?” I squinted down at the beach, trying to see if anyone from Warrengate was fighting back.
Malcolm laughed, spewing a few embers from his lips. “They’re probably all hiding in cupboards, hyperventilating over the fact that they can’t use a fire spell to make their tea. Most likely, they haven’t even noticed that they’re about to be overrun by the dripping dead.”
“There seems to be someone fighting down there,” said Cordelia, pointing to the end of the beach.
I moved over to her side of Malcolm’s back and followed the line of her finger to a tiny group of people battling on the sand. “Is that…good grief.”
“What?” said Crispin.
“It’s the Mythfits!”
“What are you lisping?” asked Malcolm. “And who are the Misfits?”
“My students! They’re fighting the skeletons!” I watched them with pride, feeling a lump in my throat. Gareth was hopping around like a boxing kangaroo, confusing the undead and hitting them when they least expected it. Alan was fighting with every limb at his disposal; kicking, punching, striking, and rearing, all while making loud, bugling noises I presumed were the war-cries of his people. Sylvia, despite her current lack of tree abilities, had somehow gotten her hands on an enormous branch and was swinging it this way and that, battering skulls and bellowing “DIE!” every few seconds. Even little Bryn was doing her part. Now fully human, she kept darting around and distracting the skeletons to help her friends take them down.
“Come on!” I said, tapping Malcolm on the shoulder. “Get down there! We have to help them!”
“Thank you, Mr. Beasley,” said Malcolm, his tone frosty, “but I don’t need a pilot.” He circled gracefully through the air, swooping down to the patch of gravel where the Mythfits were fighting.
“Oi!” I cried, leaping from Malcolm’s back and bounding over to them. “You lot! Well done!”
“HYAAAH!” Gareth spun around on one hoof, a look of giddy bloodlust in his eyes, and head-butted me in the stomach.
“Oof!” I fell flat on my back. His horns couldn’t break through my hide, but they still hurt.
“Oh, sorry!” chirped Gareth. “Thought you were a skeleton.”
I rubbed my bruised belly and glowered at him. “Do I look like a skeleton?”
“Right now, everything looks like a skeleton,” said Alan, striking out with his hind leg at a skeleton and reducing it to a pile of rattling bones.
Crispin flopped down from Malcolm’s back, landing facedown in the sand. He pushed himself up on his elbows and waved at the Mythfits. “Hello! We met briefly, but we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m—”
“Merman!” screamed Sylvia, advancing with her cudgel. “Kill!”
I grabbed her arm before she could bean Crispin over the head. “He’s not evil! He’s my brother!”
“And he’s a merman?” Gareth looked at Crispin in bewilderment.
“He is now.”
“Is getting turned into things some kind of tradition in your family?” asked Alan, as Sylvia, muttering under her breath, went back to fighting skeletons.
“It’s only temporary,” I assured him. I leaned over to Cordelia. “It is temporary, right?” I whispered. “I mean, Crispin’s not the source, so he doesn’t have the same problem I’ve got.”
A worried look came over her face. “Probably not, but—let’s talk about that later, all right?”
“We’ve been fighting,” said Alan, as if we hadn’t noticed.
“Without magic!” added Gareth, proudly.
“We’re amazing!” cried Bryn, jumping up and down in excitement.
“DIE!” shouted Sylvia, repeatedly bashing a skull against a rock.
Malcolm turned his head and addressed me. “I must say, I’m gaining a sudden new appreciation for your teaching skills. Would you consider staying on at Warrengate after all this is over? Provided the world doesn’t come to an end, of course?”
I ignored the question. “Look, all this skeleton-smashing is very inspiring, but I think we need a more sophisticated plan right about now.”
“I’ll think of something,” said Cordelia.
“I said a sophisticated plan.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Careful.”
Malcolm thumped his tail on the ground to get our attention. “First off, we’re going to need help protecting the school. If Warrengate falls, the rest of Caledon won’t be far behind.” He glanced at the Mythfits. “We need more skeleton fodder than just these four.”
Gareth paused in the middle of kicking at a skeleton. “Did he just say skeleton fodder?” he asked Alan.
“Soldiers,” I amended. “We need more soldiers. Valiant warriors who are almost certainly going to survive.”
This didn’t seem to put Gareth any more at ease.
“Oi!” I shouted up to the windows of Warrengate. “You up there! What’s the matter with you?” I motioned to the Mythfits. “These are the ones who are bad at everything, right? You’ve probably been laughing at them for a while now, haven’t you, just because they’re not as good at magic? Look at them tonight! You’re cowering in your bedrooms, scared out of your skins, and the Mythfits are out fighting your battle
s! If they can do it, so can you!” I cupped my hands to my mouth to project my voice better. “I know you’re all braver than you think! You need to find that courage and be the heroes you were born to be!”
“Nick, they’re villains,” said Crispin. “Villain school. Remember?”
“Antihero school,” Cordelia corrected.
“Be the antiheroes you were born to be!” I bellowed.
There was complete silence from the windows. No one even peeked outside to see who had spoken.
“FIGHT, YOU PATHETIC WEAKLINGS, OR I’LL BARBECUE THE LOT OF YOU,” boomed Malcolm.
Seconds later, the heavy double-doors of the school swung open, and a gaggle of students and teachers came stumbling out. They were all pale and terrified, but they had grabbed a variety of objects to use as weapons—chairs, brooms, kitchen utensils, and a few ancient-looking shotguns. At least they were making an effort. I did notice a couple of them sucking their thumbs, however.
“That’s better,” said Malcolm. “Now, let’s get to work.” He turned to face the horde of skeletons, who all stopped in their tracks as soon as they noticed his glowing red eyes fixed on them.
“Can I help you?” said Malcolm, in the manner of someone answering the door to an uninvited guest.
The skeletons all spoke as one, their jaws clacking as they rattled out their challenge. “WE ARE THE DROWNED LEGION. WE BRING DOOM.”
Malcolm’s scaly lips pulled back from his enormous fangs in an amused grin. “How quaint. I’m a dragon.” He lifted his foreleg and wiggled his claws in the air. “Bye-bye.”
As Malcolm exhaled, a tidal wave of fire swept over the undead, throwing them to the ground and blackening their bones. (Apparently, fire-breathing was a natural ability for dragons, not a magic power that the song could suppress.) The closest skeletons to Malcolm were reduced to ashes and charred fragments. The rest, however, began picking themselves up and advancing again once Malcolm ran out of breath.
“Nick, I’ve got an idea,” said Crispin.
“Is it a good one?”
He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t involve anyone changing species. I’d say that’s a promising start.”
I ignored the barb. “Fine. What is it?”
“Try talking to them.”
I paused. “I want you to know that I’m trying very hard not to respond with sarcasm right now.”
“In Molly’s voice,” Crispin added.
“Oh.” It all made sense now. “You think they’ll obey me if I mimic her voice.”
“It probably won’t work,” said Cordelia.
“It’s worth a try.” I concentrated on imitating Molly’s timbre. “Hello, skeletons!” I shouted, sounding exactly like her.
The Mythfits gaped at me. “Okay, this is weird,” said Alan.
“Fall back!” I called to the creatures. “Return to the ocean! Go back to sleep! Down, skeletons! Bad skeletons!”
No luck. They kept coming.
I switched back to my normal voice. “Like I said, worth a try.”
Crispin pulled himself up onto a rock, stuck two fingers in his mouth, and gave a loud whistle. A moment later, Sparky swooped into view and landed on Crispin’s arm, chittering excitedly. (It seemed his magical transportation powers had been suppressed by the song as well.) Edmund came galloping down to the beach from the stables, snorting and pawing the ground. He sniffed Crispin’s fishtail in confusion and sneezed.
Crispin stroked the unicorn’s nose and scratched Sparky under his chin. “Fight,” he whispered to his pets, pointing at the Drowned Legion. “But be careful, all right?”
Edmund nickered, then charged into the skeletons, skewering several on his horn. He threw them aside, bugling in triumph, and continued waving his horn like a knight wielding a broadsword. Sparky followed him, dive-bombing the skeletons and shooting fireballs at them.
“This battle might turn out to be quite difficult, even for me,” said Malcolm. “Best you three get to work on a more effective strategy. We’ll hold them off as long as possible.”
“But what can we do?” said Crispin. “Molly holds all the cards now. She’s got an army, she’s got Kiran and the Nautilus, and we don’t even know exactly what her plan is!”
“There is one thing we could try,” said Cordelia.
“If you’re about to suggest that we talk to the Magic Mirror again, forget it,” I cautioned. “Absolutely not.” I shuddered at the memory of the price the mirror had exacted the last time we used it.
“No,” said Cordelia. “Of course not. But Molly said that the Undine were still out there somewhere. She also said that the Unqueen was planning to take revenge on them. Which means we and the merfolk now have a common enemy.”
“You’re saying we should go find them?” I gaped at her. “Travel to Aegiris? That’s crazy!”
“I know.”
“It’s also probably the only option we have left, so by all means, let’s do it.” I rubbed my hands together. “This might even be fun…in a life-threatening way, of course.”
“You two go,” she said. “You both breathe water; I can’t.”
“We can use a boat!” I argued. “The one we rode in on! It’s on the other side of the island, but…”
“Crispin can swim much faster than one of those, and carry you along besides. Also, it’s better if you’re underwater so he can listen for songs. I imagine that will be the best way to locate Aegiris.”
“But Cordelia,” I argued, “we can’t leave you on your own. You haven’t got any magic. At least find somewhere to hide until—”
One of the students staggered over, holding a shotgun in his trembling hands. He aimed it at the skeletons and fumbled in vain with the trigger.
Cordelia snatched the weapon from him. She checked to make sure it was loaded, cocked it with a loud click, lifted it to her shoulder, and fired it straight into the Drowned Legion. The kick from the gun made her stumble backward a little, but the skeletons got the worst of it. Several of their skulls exploded into tiny fragments, and their bodies collapsed to the ground.
Cordelia held up the firearm and arched an eyebrow at me. “Any questions?”
“Many,” I replied, my eyes wide with amazement and admiration, “but I’ll ask them later. You carry on.” I picked up Crispin before he could protest and ferried him to the top of a nearby boulder.
Crispin looked down at the water below with concern. “Wait, hold on, are you just going to throw—”
I threw him into the water with a loud splash, then dove in after him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Aegiris
“What about now?” I asked.
“Nick,” said Crispin, flicking his tail in annoyance, “I’m a merman, not some aquatic homing pigeon. I can’t just find the lost kingdom of Aegiris in the blink of an eye.” He squinted through the shadows ahead of us as we swam. His transformation had granted him night vision as acute as mine, so we were both able to see despite the gathering darkness.
We had managed to get past the skeletons marching across the seabed without much difficulty. They had ignored us, focusing solely on attacking Warrengate. I had been afraid we would run into Molly and a mind-controlled Kiran somewhere, but we saw no sign of them. Crispin had picked up his speed once we were well away from the shore, streaking through the water with me in tow. We slowed down as we came across familiar seamounts and other distinctive sights from our trip in the Nautilus. Using my enhanced sense of direction, I had been able to guide us back along the same route we had taken earlier.
“I just thought you might have heard a song or something by now.” I gripped Crispin’s hand, kicking my feet as he pulled me along in his wake.
“Well, I haven’t.” He clenched his jaw, fuming. “All I can hear is that infernal lullaby. In my ex-girlfriend’s voice. It’s torture.”
“Crispin, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but you only knew each other for three days. She really wasn’t your girlfriend.”
“I
don’t care how long we knew each other. I’m still in love with her.”
“You shouldn’t throw the word ‘love’ around willy-nilly like that,” I argued.
“Oh, so I should just tiptoe around my true feelings? Like you do with Cordelia?”
I glared at him. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve noticed how you look at her!”
“You’re too young to notice that sort of thing.”
“I am not!” said Crispin, spinning around to face me and accidentally letting go of my hand in the process. Inertia sent me crashing into him.
“Ouch!” we both shouted in unison, waving arms and fins to keep from doing somersaults. Once we had regained our balance, we drifted silently for several long moments, each of us carefully avoiding the other’s gaze.
I was the one to finally break the silence. “Do you want to hit me?”
Crispin’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“It won’t hurt, and it might help you…cope. Get some tension out.”
“I don’t want to hit you.”
“If you do, you know it’s perfectly all right.”
“Yeah, I know…but I don’t. Honestly. Thanks.” Crispin looked down at his fins. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Well, I did turn you into a merman. And I’ve got firsthand experience with suddenly becoming something else, so I really can’t blame you.” I hesitated, reluctant to return to the more painful topic. “But you’re more upset about Molly, aren’t you?”
“Do you think we can save her?” Crispin’s tone was somber. “Somber” didn’t suit him at all. I didn’t like to see him this way.
“We’ll do our best, Crispin. I promise.”
“What if we can’t get that—that thing out of her?”
“Don’t think about that right now.” I pointed to a looming shape off to our left. “There’s the Sea Witch’s tomb. Better keep a safe distance.” The place was nothing more than a pile of rubble now, not worth guarding…but it was unlikely that the polyps knew that.
Crispin peered through the dark waters. “Any sign of the Nautilus?”