The Black Fortress

by E. G. Foley

  There had been…accidents.

  It had been his big brother, Jacob, who had performed the horrid Extraction Spell on him, with Waldrick’s agreement. After tearfully swearing that he didn’t want to end up roasting innocent people all because he couldn’t control his gift, Waldrick had gone along with it when his handsome and always-brave elder brother, Jacob, declared they must take the talent out of him.

  His brother had then nicked one of Aunt Ramona’s extra wands for the excruciating spell and read the chant aloud, removing the pyrokinesis from Waldrick, and distilling the firepower (as they called it) into a vial.

  Jacob had then stored it in the family’s secret vault hidden away somewhere in the bowels of Griffon Castle.

  Waldrick had never been able to find the vault, let alone open it. By family tradition, only the firstborn, the heir, had the privilege of learning where it was and how to open it.

  That had been Jacob, not him.

  But that hadn’t stopped Waldrick from trying to find it. Because after a few years of being ordinary, he had regretted submitting to the procedure. He wanted his firepower back.

  And why should he not have it? It was his, blast it!

  By then—in his early twenties—he was more mature and knew that he could handle it.

  His brother didn’t think so.

  They had argued, and finally, Jacob had confessed that he’d destroyed the vial long ago.

  Waldrick had been stunned as the news sank in that he would never get his power back.

  When he asked his brother why he would do such a thing, Jacob had accused him of not maturing at all, of only turning more devious and shifty with every year that passed.

  Adding insult to injury, the arrogant firstborn had insisted that it simply wasn’t safe for Waldrick to have it. That he couldn’t be trusted with so much power.

  So spoke the heir.

  Waldrick had been enraged. He knew then he would never forgive his brother for this betrayal.

  Jacob had destroyed not just something that belonged to him, but a part of Waldrick himself.

  He didn’t care if the vainglorious young Lightrider had only been trying to help him, as he claimed; that was the moment Waldrick had begun to hate his brother.

  A hatred he had been helpless to act upon until he met Fionnula. Without her magic, he never would’ve managed to kill Jacob and his wife.

  “Well?” the Nephilim asked.

  Waldrick eyed him uncertainly. “With all due respect, my lord, it is not possible to give me my firepower back. My brother destroyed it. He told me so himself.”

  “He lied,” Wyvern said.

  Waldrick stared at him, astonished by this outlandish claim.

  Was Wyvern suggesting that Jacob had been bluffing? That Waldrick had murdered his brother over a lie?

  Impossible. He shoved the ghastly thought aside with a shudder. The vial was gone, and his power with it.

  Besides, how could this stranger possibly know where the secret family vault was, let alone claim that his vial was still in there, intact?

  Oh. Well—he’s obviously lying, Waldrick realized. He’s just telling me whatever he thinks I want to hear. I wonder why…

  “Well?” Wyvern prompted again.

  Waldrick chose his words with care. He did not want to reveal that he knew it was a lie. Because if there was any hope of getting out of this prison…

  “Ahem. To be honest, my lord,” he said, “the thought of a deal with the Black Brotherhood does make a simple chap like me, oh, just a trifle nervous.”

  The dragon lord laughed. “Well, if I can’t persuade you, there’s someone else here who might have better luck.” Wyvern beckoned to someone down the corridor. “Perhaps you’d feel a bit better about joining the team if you knew a familiar face was already part of this.”

  The sound that followed made Waldrick’s ears perk up: high heels clicking on the stone floor.

  Echoing louder and louder…

  He furrowed his brow, cocking his head to listen. There was something so familiar about the self-assured rhythm of that sassy stride.

  In the next moment, his former ladylove stepped into view, gorgeous as ever, and planted a hand on her hip. “Hullo, Waldrick.”

  “Fionnula!” he cried in disbelief. “Is it really you?”

  She laughed and threw her hands in the air. “In the flesh, darling!”

  “Wh-what? How?” Waldrick was gobsmacked.

  “Oh, darling!” Fionnula sashayed up to the bars, wrapped her hands around them, and fluttered her lashes. “Isn’t it wonderful? Nathan’s saved us!” She glanced adoringly at Wyvern. “Now we can both be free. The world is our oyster once again. Just like old times!”

  Waldrick moved closer, gazing at his old partner in crime, amazed. “Fionnula…! I-I don’t understand. How did you get out?”

  “Bad girls must be rewarded,” she said with a coy wink. “I knew the Dark Druids wouldn’t abandon me forever.”

  “Zolond ordered you freed?”

  “Oh, Hades, no. It was all Nathan’s doing. He rescued me!”

  Wyvern folded his arms across his muscled chest with a smirk.

  “He’s so clever, darling! He sent rock golems to smash through the walls of my underwater prison! Conjured them right out of boulders on some Scottish beach. It was sooo impressive,” she purred.

  The Nephilim smiled and shrugged.

  Fionnula tossed the dark waves of her blue-black hair over her shoulder. “You should’ve seen it. At His Lordship’s command, the boulder giants marched right down into the North Sea and punched a hole right through the wall of my cell—and here I am! Once we got to shore, Nathan healed me with his wand. Just like the Gryphon feathers used to do. So? How do I look?”

  The diva set her hands on her waist and preened, awaiting Waldrick’s praise.

  “More radiant than ever,” he said sincerely.

  “Aw, you were always so sweet.” She puckered her lips and offered a kiss through the bars, but when Waldrick puckered back and leaned toward her, Fionnula twirled away. “Oooh, you’re too stinky! So, will you help us bring Jake to heel or not?”

  She took the Nephilim’s bulging arm and waited hopefully for his reply.

  What on earth are these two scheming? Waldrick thought.

  The sea-witch cocked a sly glance at her towering savior. “He is considering it, Nathan.”

  “He’d be a fool not to,” Wyvern replied.

  Oh, “Nathan,” is it? Waldrick thought. The pair seemed awfully cozy. “I don’t know,” he mumbled.

  “La, join the party, Waldrick! What do you have to lose?” Fionnula cajoled him. The hairs on his nape bristled with distrust of the woman. But, admittedly, it was much nicer seeing her like this than in her…other form.

  He shuddered privately at the memory of her tentacles.

  She beamed her theatre smile at him. “Remember how much fun it was when we had your nephew under that Oboedire spell, and he had to do whatever we said?”

  A reluctant smile tugged at Waldrick’s lips. “That was rather amusing.” He had especially enjoyed ordering Jake to act like a chicken…

  But this was no time for revisiting old jokes. Serious business was in play.

  Waldrick wasn’t sure yet what was going on, but these two clearly needed him. Well. Waldrick Everton didn’t help anyone for free. “I’d have certain requirements.”

  “Name them,” said Wyvern.

  “Hmm. For starters, I’d expect fine meals like I used to enjoy. Proper clothing. Luxurious accommodations worthy of my lineage.”

  “Done,” the warlock replied.

  Waldrick tensed. Too easy. That was never a good sign.

  He knew then that this was a bad idea. The man was a Nephilim, for heaven’s sake.

  But the thought of a table laden with chef-cooked delicacies and a closet full of Bond Street-tailored clothes was enough to persuade him after a moment’s hesitation.

  He was sick of staring a
t these four walls, anyway. And it would be so much fun making Jake miserable again.

  After all, if not for that impossible boy, he never would’ve ended up here.

  In truth, with the dark way the Nephilim was staring at him, it seemed pretty clear to Waldrick that he didn’t actually have a choice.

  “Very well.” Of course, he still didn’t believe that the warlock could deliver on his absurd promise to get his firepower back. But the prospect of escaping this cage brought a smile to Waldrick’s grime-caked face, nevertheless. “Count me in.”

  “Excellent.” Wyvern thrust the sea-witch aside, since she was still hanging on him, and took out his wand. “You might want to stand back, Everton.”

  Waldrick fled to the far corner of his cell, then ducked away as the warlock’s shout of exertion blasted his cell open with a shattering bolt of magic.

  Fionnula squealed with delight, clapping her hands in excitement and hopping up and down in her red high-heeled shoes.

  With sparks still popping along the glowing metal of the bent and twisted bars, broken stones still shedding clouds of dust, Jake’s wicked Uncle Waldrick slipped his feet into his ragged old shoes, then stepped out of his cell at long last.

  A free man.

  * * *

  Something terrible had happened.

  Isabelle could feel it in her bones. Waiting for the team to return once again, she closed her eyes and tried sending out a mental query to Janos.

  What’s wrong?

  No answer returned. The dark skies were empty. The moon crept behind a cloud as though ashamed, and from somewhere near the glade where the boys had been waiting, an owl hooted mournfully.

  Though her sense of impending disaster continued to grow, Isabelle could not discern quite where it was coming from.

  At least Jake was happy. Of that, she was sure. He and the others had returned to the palace in triumph, making a well-deserved fuss over the Gryphon.

  They all were somewhere inside, celebrating Red’s return, along with Dani’s selection for the Lightrider program.

  Izzy had promised to join them soon. But, for now, something told her to wait out here till the team came back.

  This thing wasn’t over yet.

  Miss Helena was waiting outside as well, keeping warm by the bonfire. Izzy’s poor governess had double the reason to be worried. Both her twin and her beau were out there, in harm’s way. Hopefully, the men would secure Janos’s home and return without incident.

  Privately, Izzy rather regretted that her vampire friend would not be coming back to Merlin Hall with the team, but she supposed he had to stay home to protect his poor little hatchlings and those glamorous monsters he called his wives.

  Well, at least maybe now that he’d brought Ravyn back safely, Maddox would be satisfied and start being a little more civil to Janos.

  Not that Janos seemed to care. The rogue had a splendid talent for shrugging off the world’s disapproval.

  Reckless, she thought.

  At last, the pulsating rhythm of a portal preparing to open came coursing down the ley line that passed right through the grounds of Merlin Hall. Its deep, reverberating hum filled the night, rising and falling like a chorus of crickets at the end of summer, but on a much lower frequency.

  Isabelle glanced at Miss Helena, who rose from the log. Then they both began walking warily toward the waypoint.

  Most of the spectators who had come out to wait for the safe return of Red, Ravyn, and Tex had dispersed by now to go celebrate the captives’ freedom, but a few people remained out on the lawn.

  They gathered around the waypoint a safe distance back. Izzy braced herself, her heart pounding. She noticed Jillian waiting among them for Sir Peter.

  Miss Helena looked pale. Izzy gave her governess’s hand a reassuring squeeze. The elegant shapeshifter smiled at her with gratitude.

  Then, sure enough, the portal blinked open, pouring out light, and those who had gone with Janos came stumbling out into the darkness.

  Isabelle staggered back a step, overwhelmed with the blast of uproarious emotion that came roaring out of the tunnel.

  Her stomach felt like it dropped beneath her feet. Her very bones felt afire. And the pain in her heart was like a knife.

  That quickly, her sense that something terrible had happened out there was confirmed. Yet she saw no injuries on them: Henry and Sir Peter came out unscathed.

  Then Derek stepped through, but he was holding on to Janos, who seemed mortally wounded.

  Izzy held up her hand to visor her eyes, trying to see through the blinding light from the portal, yet her senses reeled. She felt ill with whatever this was she was sensing.

  Why had they brought Janos back? And how could he be wounded? Vampires healed instantly.

  Then she smelled the smoke that they’d carried back on their clothes.

  Confused and alarmed, she saw Finnderool hurry out of the portal and close it. The cloak of darkness returned. Miss Helena hurried forward.

  Isabelle followed as best she could, dizzy and seasick with all the wild fury and grief seething in her brain and her senses.

  It wasn’t hers.

  Janos.

  Some ten feet away, she saw him pull away from Derek angrily.

  “Leave me be!”

  Henry and Finderool tried to help him as well, but he cast them off. Fear and confusion seized hold of Izzy.

  Are you hurt? she demanded of him.

  Janos went very still, his back to her. He did not turn around.

  They’re dead. They’re all dead.

  Izzy gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

  He burned them all alive.

  “Janos!” She jolted forward into motion, reckless with shared pain. Running toward him purely on instinct, she halted as he suddenly whirled around with a snarl.

  “Stay away from me!”

  “Janos?” She froze, at a loss.

  The vampire stared accusingly into her eyes, and Izzy’s jaw dropped as she sensed his emotions.

  You blame me for this? The shock of it stole her breath. Why?

  “Leave me alone,” he growled.

  “I-I don’t understand.”

  “Of course you don’t. You’re just a little girl,” he said bitterly. “Goodbye, Miss Bradford.” Then he pivoted and began stalking away, but he vanished mid-stride into his black smoke form.

  Disappearing into the night.

  CHAPTER 26

  Djinni Out of the Bottle

  The next morning, Jake awoke and all was right with the world. Truly, it was the first day in nearly three months that he’d woken up, as they say, on the right side of the bed. Red was back; he was safe. Indeed, the Gryphon had slept curled up contentedly at the foot of Jake’s bed, same as always.

  Jake felt as though an anvil had been lifted off his chest. He’d cleared the air with Dani. His Gryphon was back and none the worse for wear.

  Now, finally, he could think. And there was much to think about. Like why his parents hadn’t been in their coffins in the family mausoleum…

  But for now, he just enjoyed feeling normal again.

  First thing in the morning, he sprang out of bed and got himself dressed, glancing constantly at the Gryphon. Red lapped up some water from his bowl in the corner, then sat down, wrapped his tufted tail around his haunches, and looked at Jake, as if to say, What are we doing today?

  Jake laughed at the funny look on the Gryphon’s face and patted his head, scratched his neck, half hugging him repeatedly in between moving about his chamber, splashing his face, and putting on his clothes.

  “We need to get you checked out by Dr. Plantagenet right away,” he told his feathered friend.

  Red snuffled, not looking forward at all to a medical exam. But Jake needed to know if the Dark Druids had left his pet with any unseen injuries or a lack of nutrition that he should know about.

  As soon as they had both eaten breakfast, he took Red over to the Green Man’s veterinary offices i
n the heart of the menagerie, and left him in Dr. Plantagenet’s capable hands.

  They wouldn’t be parted long.

  “Don’t worry, Jake, I’ll take good care of him.” The Green Man scratched Red affectionately under his beak. “We’ll look him over, run a few tests, and make sure he’s ready for action. He’ll be good as new in no time.”

  Jake welcomed the veterinarian’s optimistic prediction as he leaned against the wall, in no hurry to get to his errand. Red, meanwhile, sat on the sturdy exam table, scowling a little to have to undergo the tests, but the Gryphon was never one to complain.

  Jake gave his pet another hug goodbye.

  “I’ll be back soon to fetch you, boy. Be good for Dr. Plantagenet. He knows what he’s doing, and this is for your own good. I’ve got to go.”

  “Becaw?” Red asked.

  “Oh, Archie wants my help today with some experiment,” Jake said. “He’s been trying every way he can think of to help poor Aleeyah—you remember the djinni?”

  “C-caw.” Red nodded.

  “Well, you might not be aware of this, but during the same battle where you got captured, Lord Wyvern apparently hit Aleeyah with some sort of heavy-duty spell. You remember how she can turn into a little puff of smoke to transport herself instantly from one spot to another?”

  Red nodded. It was a familiar djinni trick.

  “Wyvern’s spell or incantation or whatever it was hit her right when she was in mid-transport, and she got stuck that way—in her smoke form! None of the wizards have been able to solve her predicament, so Archie offered to give it a go.”

  Red bobbed his head in approval. If the boy genius couldn’t do it, no one could. Meanwhile, Dr. Plantagenet went over to his work counter by the wall and took his stethoscope out of the cabinet. Then he got a wooden tongue depressor and a thermometer. As he moved about, preparing for the exam, one of the brown leaves on his twiggy head suddenly fell off and wafted to the floor.

  “Oh! How embarrassing.” He quickly stooped to pick it up and throw it out the window.

  Jake managed not to laugh, and looked again at the Gryphon. “I’ll be back to pick you up this afternoon. You can either take a nap in your nest if you want, or just come and find me at Archie’s lab in the basement. But knock first. You know Arch. His experiments can get a little dicey.”