The Black Fortress

by E. G. Foley

  Archie began fooling around at the big calliope fixed against the wall, improvising songs and making up idiotic words. He’d had just enough piano lessons to be dangerous as he took over the keyboard. But as horrid as his playing was, Jake and Isabelle soon joined him there, all three feeling the effects of the sugar and singing along, not caring if they looked ridiculous and sounded even worse.

  But, standing beside the towering musical instrument, their laughter faded, and, all of a sudden, Jake blurted out, “I miss Dani.”

  Archie gave him a rueful smile. “I miss Nixie something awful,” he confessed. “But I miss Dani, too.”

  Izzy nodded. “Me three.”

  As the calliope notes faded away (someone needed to put in another coin), Jake leaned against the train track with a sigh. “I wonder what she’s learning in the Lightrider program. She hasn’t really said much about it in her letters.”

  “Maybe she’s not allowed,” Archie said. “Each of the big areas of study has its secrets, you know. There’s lots Nixie can’t tell me about her magical studies.”

  Jake snorted. “More likely, she’s holding back from saying too much about it, after I acted like such a glock-wit. She probably thinks telling me how great it is would only make me feel bad.”

  “Would it?” Izzy asked, nudging him.

  Jake shook his head firmly. “No.”

  “Come on, boys,” Isabelle said, stepping between them. She took an arm of each. “We’ve wasted enough time here. Go buy whatever else you’re going to purchase. We really should be getting back.”

  Archie’s eyes widened. “We didn’t buy anything for Aunt Ramona yet!”

  “I’m going to get her something here,” Jake announced.

  After another quick search of the candy shop, Jake ended up buying the Elder witch a ridiculous toy monkey automaton. It had red pantaloons, a little bellhop’s hat, and a pair of cymbals that it clashed in the most annoying way.

  “Because, clearly, that’s what every three-hundred-year-old witch needs,” Archie said, staring at the thing.

  Jake grinned. “It’ll remind her of me.”

  “In more ways than one,” Archie replied.

  Izzy chortled.

  It was funny, but Jake smacked him in the back of the head anyway, just like Dani’s older brothers used to do to him.

  “Hey!” Archie said, still grinning.

  “Ye had it coming, mate.”

  Isabelle shook her head at their antics, then Jake went up to pay. While the aproned clerk behind the counter gift-wrapped the monkey, Jake hurried up and down the aisles, picking out an assortment of sweets to send to Dani. He just wanted her to know that he was thinking of her, and that coming here without her really wasn’t the same.

  Impressed with the notion, Archie tracked down some candy spiders and skulls for Nixie, while Isabelle begrudgingly picked out a large sour lollipop for Maddox. That seemed fitting.

  At last, they left the Confectioner’s Emporium and headed back to Griffon Castle. Their giddiness of earlier had faded away as they strolled down the shady side of the street in thoughtful silence.

  The short break today had been refreshing, but Jake knew that, tomorrow, it was back to the routine.

  They hadn’t gone far, however, when Isabelle stopped, staring with a vacant look straight ahead down the high street.

  The boys stopped too.

  They glanced curiously at her, then at each other.

  Jake shrugged. Archie shrugged back.

  Isabelle suddenly lifted her hands to her temples and closed her eyes with a wince. “Ugh…”

  “Ho! What’s the matter, sis?” Archie’s humor vanished as he turned to her.

  “Either I ate far too much sugar…or something’s wrong at Griffon Castle. Very wrong.”

  Jake drew in his breath as he realized this was one of her empath moments. Archie and he looked at each other with alarm.

  “Wrong how?” Jake asked.

  “I don’t know.” She flicked her eyes open again and shook her head. “Something’s happening. Danger. Too many people.”

  Jake looked around. There was hardly anyone in the street at the moment. “What people?”

  Listening to her own inner signals, Isabelle suddenly looked around wildly. “We need to go. Now!”

  She bolted without warning down the street, and the bewildered boys had no option but to follow. They caught up to her shortly, all three pounding along the cobbled lane in a clatter of footfalls.

  “Can’t you give us a better idea of what’s going on?” Jake exclaimed as they barreled out of the village and down the country road.

  “I don’t know!” Izzy said, her topknot tumbling askew as she ran. “The spells Aunt Ramona cast must be blocking my ability to sense it. I only know it’s bad!”

  “Perfect,” Archie muttered.

  They ran faster, tearing past the farmers’ fields, their bags from the candy shop banging about. Cows stopped chewing to stare at them as they raced by.

  Ahead, Jake noticed that the afternoon sky had darkened—but only over Griffon Castle.

  “Well, that can’t be good,” Archie said, seeing it as well.

  All three of them let out startled exclamations, stumbled to a halt, and ducked instinctively when a lightning bolt flew out of the sky and stabbed at the north tower of Griffon Castle.

  “Blimey!” Jake said, uncovering his head. “Er, I don’t suppose there’s any chance that’s Nixie come to visit?”

  Archie shook his head, panting with exertion. “Not even in a bad mood would she lightning-strike your castle.”

  Exchanging fearful glances, they pressed on until, finally, they saw the little stone bridge ahead, spanning the brook that wrapped around this side of Jake’s property. It was then they heard wild barking and spotted Teddy racing toward them at top speed.

  “Teddy!” Jake cried. Though his stomach hurt from sprinting with a belly full of candy, he managed to run a little faster. Dani had entrusted her dog to his care, after all.

  But the speedy brown terrier buzzed right past Jake and ran to Isabelle. “Arf, arf, arf, arf, ruff!”

  “Slow down, Teddy!” Red-faced and panting, Izzy crouched down, and the wee dog jumped up to rest his front paws on her knee. “Start from the beginning, now, and tell me what’s the matter.”

  The Norwich terrier began making those odd little warbling noises, yips, and growls that he always used when talking to the girl who could communicate with animals.

  It really did sound like he was talking, but only Isabelle (and others with this rare gift) could understand.

  She gasped and stared at Teddy. “It can’t be. Are you sure?”

  The terrier tossed his head with another yip, then twirled around twice.

  Even Jake could tell that was a yes.

  “Well, what’s he saying?” Archie cried.

  Isabelle turned to the boys with a look of shock. “He says Fionnula Coralbroom and Uncle Waldrick have returned. They’re at Griffon Castle right now.”

  “What?” Jake’s stomach plummeted. “But th-that’s impossible. They’re in jail!”

  “Sweet Bacon, they must’ve escaped,” Archie whispered.

  Jake spun around to stare in horror toward his home. Fionnula’s presence would at least explain the lightning.

  “That’s not all,” Izzy said with a gulp.

  Jake turned back to his cousins.

  “Teddy says they’ve brought somebody else with them. A third man he’s never seen before.”

  “Who?” Archie asked, his eyes round behind his glasses.

  Isabelle shook her head, looking dazed as she picked the little dog up in her arms. “Teddy doesn’t know. But he says…he says the stranger smells of death.”

  * * *

  Waldrick watched the chaos going on around him, taking care to stay on the glowing blue path that Wyvern had set for him. Fionnula was laughing gaily, hurling bolts of magic at the castle servants who ran out to try to confron
t them.

  One by one, she transformed them into frogs.

  “Not again!” said the butler, before he too collapsed out of sight with a ribbit, buried somewhere inside his discarded uniform.

  The sea-witch marched on, jabbing her high heels into the smooth green turf of the lawn as she strode ahead of her two admirers.

  Oh, she was in rare form, and Waldrick suspected she was merely showing off for her precious Nathan.

  The Nephilim watched her with amusement, but Waldrick saw no humor in this. Frankly, he was worried.

  Because, already, this visit was not going to plan. No one was supposed to be here.

  Lo and behold, now they had to deal with that intolerable do-gooder, Derek Stone, his dead brother’s best friend, not to mention Isabelle’s shapeshifting governess, Miss Helena DuVal.

  They had not yet encountered the wolf twin, but Henry DuVal couldn’t be far off, Waldrick thought.

  Personally, he was in no humor to have his leg bitten off by either twin in animal form today. Both genteel teachers could be vicious in battle mode; he’d seen it. That was why the family had hired them.

  As far as Waldrick was concerned, the sooner they collected his firepower from the vault and got out of here, the better. Though he took a certain pleasure at the dread on Derek’s face when the Guardian came running out of the castle, sword in hand, and saw the Nephilim, Waldrick’s enjoyment was short-lived.

  For at that moment, the Gryphon entered the fray with a terrifying war cry.

  Waldrick looked up and gasped to see the magnificent beast take a running leap off the castle roof, where he knew it had a nest.

  It launched into the clear autumn sky and then began to swoop and dive, attacking them, menace from above.

  Waldrick shrieked and ducked. He had to take cover! That thing had cause to hate all three of them, but with him, Waldrick knew, it was personal.

  The warlock might’ve held the Gryphon hostage for a few months, but Waldrick had kept him caged for eleven long years.

  More importantly, Waldrick had murdered Red’s last master. The beast wanted his blood in revenge for Jacob and Elizabeth.

  “I’ll see to the Gryphon,” Wyvern clipped out, glancing at Fionnula. “Contain Stone and the woman.”

  “Contain?” she asked, sounding disappointed while Waldrick cowered behind the pair and between them.

  “You heard me!” Wyvern snapped while Red circled like a giant vulture overhead, plotting his attack. “The boy is probably here somewhere. We can’t kill these two in front of Jake or he’ll never join our cause. Now, do as I say!”

  “Humph!” Fionnula said, for no male had ever dared talk to her like that, Waldrick knew very well. But she nodded in begrudging agreement, then turned all business, lifting her wand to focus on Derek and Miss Helena. “Contain? Hmm, let’s see… What would be fun?”

  Red dived all of a sudden, swooped right at the Nephilim, and raked him with the claws of his front paw as he went by.

  Wyvern bellowed with rage and clutched his bloodied shoulder.

  Red screeched as though mocking him and rocketed back up into the sky.

  Cringing and whimpering, Waldrick did not intend to be next. He wondered if the Nephilim knew the scratch of a Gryphon would weaken dark magic considerably. But he didn’t bother warning Wyvern of this.

  No, too scared to speak, Waldrick turned around and ran for his life back down the glowing blue path into the woods.

  Behind him, he could hear the warlock ground out a healing spell on himself. Good luck with that, he thought. Dark magic could only do so much against a Gryphon scratch.

  Other frightening battle sounds rang out behind him as Derek warded off zinging bolts of magic from Fionnula’s wand with his sword, deflecting them off the blade. “Get back inside, Helena!”

  The French governess replied with an angry leopard roar.

  At least, Waldrick hoped it was the leopard. Barreling toward the woods, he stole a terrified peek over his shoulder to make sure it wasn’t Red homing in on him.

  In that quick glance, he saw Wyvern turn, wand in hand, to face the stone gate pillars flanking the entrance to Griffon Castle’s long drive.

  The stately pillars were topped with stone statues of gryphons rampant, just like on the Everton family crest.

  While Waldrick raced as fast as he could away from danger, the warlock lifted his wand and began chanting in the direction of the stone gryphons.

  As soon as Waldrick gained the cover of the trees, heart pounding, he dared to turn around and peek out through the branches to see what was happening.

  Out on the lawn, Fionnula cackled as Miss Helena, in her sleek black leopard form, menaced her with another roar, tail thrashing.

  Down at the end of the drive, however, the gryphon statues had started to move and come to life.

  Waldrick’s eyes widened. The gray stone gryphons stretched and bellowed in raspy voices, shaking off dust. Small chunks of cement crumbled free from their feathers.

  He drew in his breath as they lifted off their brick pillars and, with magic crackling all around them, flew toward Red.

  Meanwhile, leopard-Helena galloped toward Fionnula, who stopped laughing. Derek let out a war cry and ran at Wyvern as if to tackle him.

  Waldrick shook his head. Now, that was not smart. Idiot Guardian.

  But he did not wait to see what happened next, for the Gryphon suddenly spotted him. Circling over the castle roof as it plotted its next charge, Red’s keen eagle eyes homed in on Waldrick hiding in the woods.

  Red let out a mighty caw and swooped toward the ground.

  Waldrick shrieked.

  The stone gryphons were of no help yet, still getting their bearings and figuring out how to fly, and now the real one was coming after him.

  His face contorting with terror, Waldrick turned and fled deeper into the woods, staying on the blue path so as not to be incinerated, but he glanced continually over his shoulder.

  The beast dropped down from the sky and galloped up the path after him.

  “Curses!” Stumbling in his fright, Waldrick raced on, putting more distance between himself and the castle.

  But he needed some sort of hiding place—now!

  He could hear the Gryphon’s lion paws rustling over the fallen leaves behind him farther down the trail. He did not even want to think about those claws.

  Pulse pounding, Waldrick spied a small white structure of some sort ahead among the trees.

  For a second, he thought it must be a groundskeepers’ shed, tucked away in the woods. These thousands of acres didn’t tend themselves, after all. But then Waldrick remembered what the little building actually was.

  The family mausoleum.

  Aghast, he nearly stopped in his tracks.

  I can’t go in there!

  Jacob and Elizabeth were laid to rest in there!

  Of course. Now he remembered…

  He even recalled pretending to cry in front of the elegant marble tomb on several occasions, when funeral guests had come to pay their respects.

  No—please—I can’t face them, he thought in agony.

  But when Red screamed with fury somewhere in the woods, hot on his trail, Waldrick bit back a shriek and saw he had no choice. It was either that or get eaten by the Gryphon.

  He ran on.

  Stumbling over a branch in his fright, he steadied himself and raced toward the mausoleum, his mind made up.

  It would be horrible being confined with the corpses of his victims, but built of marble in the style of a tiny Greek temple, at least its heavy stone door and solid roof should keep the beast at bay.

  There was only one problem. To reach the tomb, he would have to leave the glowing blue path Wyvern had made.

  Oh well. If it was a choice between being torn apart by a vengeful Gryphon or incinerated by Aunt Ramona’s curse, the latter sounded like the better way to go. Quicker, anyway.

  Besides, maybe, out here, he was far enough away from
the castle itself to survive the Elder witch’s curse.

  Terrified, but with no choice but to chance it, Waldrick held his breath and veered off the misty blue path, darting toward the little building.

  At once, his feet started feeling warm.

  He kept running. The tingling sensation traveled up his legs. He sprinted toward the mausoleum, hearing snarls through the snapping twigs and cracking underbrush behind him.

  At top speed, Waldrick careened past the memorial flame forever burning outside the little Greek temple. He seized the outer metal grate covering the thick stone door of the tomb.

  Waldrick yanked the wrought-iron grate open, then pushed with all his might against the polished stone slab of the door.

  He could hear twigs breaking, angry puffs of breath as lion paws galloped closer. The Gryphon was closing in.

  Gory visions of being devoured filled Waldrick’s brain as he slammed his shoulder against the stone barrier a few more times until it budged, ignoring the pain and the burning in his feet, until it suddenly gave way.

  The crypt door swung open. At once, he flung himself into the dark, chilly space, then threw his weight against the back of the door as the Gryphon charged, just a few feet away.

  The stone door banged shut in the Gryphon’s face, just in the nick of time.

  Red screamed outside. Waldrick heard the beast pound against the door. Its claws rasped down the stone like the sharpest of nails on a chalkboard.

  Thankfully, the door held.

  Then, by the sound of it, the stone gryphons that Wyvern had animated must’ve caught up to Red, for the real Gryphon withdrew, apparently forgetting about Waldrick for the time being.

  It had to deal with new enemies.

  Chest heaving, his ashen face pouring sweat, Waldrick turned around and leaned against the cold marble door behind him, trying to catch his breath and slow his hammering heartbeat.

  Well, at least he hadn’t burst into flames.

  Indeed, come to think of it, in here, his feet no longer burned, though they were still smoking. Perhaps Aunt Ramona’s spell did not apply inside the holy ground of this tomb.

  It was extremely dark inside the mausoleum. Chest heaving after his ungentlemanly sprint, Waldrick shielded his nose and mouth with his hand, not wishing to breathe in air tainted with the foulness of dead bodies.