The Black Fortress

by E. G. Foley

  Jake glanced around uneasily, making sure that Wyvern and Fionnula were really gone.

  There was no sign of them. Nor had he seen any sign of Uncle Waldrick the whole time they were here. Maybe Teddy had been mistaken.

  Red hurried over to Jake and pushed his head against his side, nudging him like an oversized housecat and nearly knocking him off his feet. “Becaw-caw?”

  “I’m all right. You?”

  Red snuffled and shook himself, which seemed to mean fine.

  “That was close, boy. Too close,” Jake whispered.

  Red bobbed his head in solemn agreement. Then the Gryphon offered one of his healing feathers for his split lip, but Jake declined. Though it was painful, this slight injury would keep his mind sharply focused on exactly why he would never join Wyvern’s side.

  “I’m just glad he’s gone, and that horrid sea-witch, too,” Jake said. His gaze fell upon Fionnula’s wand lying on the grass. Narrowing his eyes, he walked over and picked it up, then smashed it over his knee.

  The instant it was broken, wolf-Henry finished his leap, finally able to move. As the big wolf landed nimbly on the ground, the frog servants instantly returned to their human form as well.

  Shrieks of embarrassment filled the air as, once again, the staff found themselves either half-naked or with their clothing all askew, either tangled around them, trousers on their heads, or uniforms on backward.

  Jake winced. “Sorry about that, everyone!” he called awkwardly.

  “Sorry, my foot!” the first footman burst out. “I quit!”

  “Me too!” the scullery maid piped up. “Bein’ turned into a frog once is bad enough, Yer Lordship, but twice? Why, it ain’t natural!”

  “She’s right!” The second chambermaid threw down her apron. “These ain’t acceptable workin’ conditions for nobody! I quits, too.”

  “Come on, everyone!” a stable groom yelled. “Let’s get out of here!”

  “You shall do nothing of the kind!” the ancient butler suddenly thundered, silencing them all.

  Old Potts looked around grandly at the rebelling staff, never mind that his starchy black tailcoat was on backward.

  The gray-haired butler had served under Jake’s parents; indeed, he had been the lead frog in the pond for a very long time.

  “Shame on you all!” Potts said. “We shall not abandon the young master in his hour of need! But to those of you who are such craven cowards as to abandon your post with one of the first families of the magical world over a few trifling minutes as an amphibian, then begone! You are not worthy to serve this noble house. But I assure you, you will not get a reference from me. Humph!”

  The mutineers reconsidered, glancing around at each other.

  Jake nodded to Potts in appreciation, but he really couldn’t blame the others for wanting to escape this madhouse.

  “Um, I should like to offer anyone who stays a ten percent raise,” he told the staff as they continued righting their clothes.

  “Becaw!” Red agreed, for the Gryphon was really the one in charge of the gold.

  “Well…” The feisty scullery maid cocked her head. “That seems like a reasonable offer.”

  As the others nodded reluctantly, Jake thought of giving them all the rest of the day off, but many seemed badly shaken up, and he had learned from Aunt Ramona that, in times of crisis, sometimes it was best to stay busy.

  So he cleared his throat and gave them a task to take their minds off their ordeal. “Ahem, once you’re sorted—anyone who’s staying, that is—would you please check the house to see if Lord Wyvern stole or damaged anything while he was inside?”

  Potts lifted his chin and tugged at his waistcoat. “My lord, ’twould be an honor.”

  “Thank you,” Jake said, then he nodded their dismissal. He gave Potts a particularly grateful look, and the old butler sent him a wink, then marched toward the open front door.

  As the rest of the servants began drifting after their supervisor, Jake noticed that the giant bell jar was slowly dissolving into thin air. Its erasure must’ve started the moment he had cracked Fionnula’s wand. That was what had freed Henry and the servants, after all.

  It seemed Archie’s skill with a blowtorch had been all for naught as Derek and Helena’s glass prison drifted into nothing. A moment later, there was no trace left of the bell jar but a ring on the lawn where its weight had smashed down the grass.

  Then Jake, his cousins, Red, and wolf-Henry ran to Derek and leopard-Helena, and they all hugged each other with relief, exchanging worried questions and making sure everyone was all right. Wolf-Henry ran over to his sister, tail wagging, and leopard-Helena gave him an affectionate meow.

  Derek grasped Jake’s shoulders and looked into his eyes with a soulful expression, then pulled him into a protective embrace. Guardians didn’t say much, but the big fellow needed no words at the moment.

  “Don’t worry, I’m all right!” Jake insisted, his voice muffled by the warrior’s chest.

  Wolf-Henry offered an apologetic whine before trotting off toward Bradford Park, presumably to change back into his regular self—and get his clothes.

  Leopard-Helena remained, her gown lying on the grass where she had apparently transformed. She seemed in no hurry to return to human shape. Indeed, the governess could be heard purring as she stayed close to Isabelle. She seemed very proud of her charge.

  Jake certainly was. Derek released him from his bear hug, and Archie went to gather up his tools.

  “Well done, sis. I shudder to think what would have become of us if you had not convinced the herd to come to our aid.”

  “Jake would’ve been abducted,” Derek said grimly. “The whole Order could’ve been jeopardized. The entire balance between good and evil. Jake—I failed you.”

  “No!” Jake said, and his cousins echoed his protest. Even Helena agreed with a scolding hiss.

  Derek seemed unconvinced. He rested one hand on his hip and lowered his head. “I should’ve done better.”

  “Don’t do that to yourself,” Isabelle chided him. “I’m just relieved the unicorns didn’t hurt the boys. They’re somewhat used to Archie, but Jake…?” She shrugged, but her words triggered a realization in his mind.

  “Hey!” Jake said. “If I were really evil, Belarex would’ve trampled me to death. Wouldn’t he?”

  Isabelle nodded. “It’s his nature to attack evil when he sees it.” She smiled at him. “The fact that he went right past you should finally convince you that you’re a good person.”

  Jake absorbed this. “Wyvern claimed I belonged on their side.”

  “No, Jake. No,” she said.

  “I told you not to believe him,” Archie said.

  Jake lowered his head, and Derek rested a brawny arm around his shoulders.

  Now that Jake had faced down Wyvern for himself, he felt an even deeper bond with his mentor. What the Guardian had been through at the warlock’s hands, he didn’t want to imagine.

  “We can’t stay here any longer,” Derek said. “Your aunt’s spells on this place have obviously been breached.”

  “How did they know we were here?” Jake asked. “We didn’t tell anyone where we were going. Dani and Maddox and Nixie wouldn’t have told.”

  “The mole inside Merlin Hall must’ve found out and passed the news on to Wyvern,” Derek said.

  Isabelle shook her head. “I…am not convinced they knew we were here. I couldn’t read much off them—it’s not safe to try reading someone like that for more than a moment or two. But I kind of got the feeling they were as surprised to see us as we were them.”

  “Well, that’s strange,” Derek murmured.

  “I want to know how the devil Uncle Waldrick and Fionnula escaped from prison—and, more importantly, why we weren’t told!” Archie’s face wore a rare look of anger. “If the Order can’t keep Jake safe—”

  “The Elders probably didn’t want to frighten us, is all,” Isabelle said.

  “Frighten us?”
Archie exclaimed, turning to his sister. “Seeing Derek and Miss Helena nearly asphyxiate before our eyes, now, that’s frightening! Blast it, the Elders simply cannot continue keeping us in the dark like this just because we’re children! They’re going to get us killed! I can put up with many things, by Jove, but being deliberately kept ignorant is not one of them!”

  Directing his words at Derek, Archie pointed at Jake. “If my cousin hadn’t spied on the Fey Parliament, the three of us would still be oblivious to the Dark Druids’ prophecy, and the threat against the Lightriders, a-a-and all of it! Nobody would’ve told us! Not even Mother and Father! I know you’re all trying to protect us, but, blast it, don’t the Elders understand that lack of knowledge is the most dangerous thing of all? Th-this is unacceptable!”

  Shocked silence followed.

  It had been an extraordinary rant from the mild-mannered lad.

  Derek, Isabelle, and even Red looked amazed. Some of the servants had also paused to stare on their way back into the castle.

  Jake arched a brow. “You really need to get some sleep, coz.”

  “Well, it’s true!” Archie folded his arms across his chest and didn’t budge.

  “He does have a point, you know,” Izzy murmured.

  At that moment, the butler poked his head out the front door. “Lord Griffon! Guardian Stone!” Potts beckoned to them with an air of great agitation. “We found something! Come quick!”

  They exchanged startled glances, then hurried toward the castle.

  * * *

  Waldrick, meanwhile, had been waiting in the carriage, drumming his fingers and examining his nails, when Wyvern and Fionnula reappeared on the road in a puff of black smoke.

  He looked out the window. Finally!

  Waldrick immediately saw that the backstabbing sea-witch was missing her wand. Well, well.

  As for Wyvern, the warlock’s glare seethed with silent rage. Then Waldrick noticed that the earl was not carrying the promised vial of his firepower.

  Waldrick’s lips curved in a sour smile as smugness bloomed in his heart, but he hid his reaction as the two stomped over to the coach.

  Dear, oh dear. Failure, Nathan? Waldrick nearly drawled. But he wasn’t stupid.

  It was pretty clear at once that things hadn’t gone well.

  The carriage rocked as the pair climbed in angrily and plunked down on their seats, Fionnula beside him, Wyvern across from him in the coach’s backward-facing seat.

  Wyvern barked at the driver to go, but the coachman was only a spoon changed into a servitor. They hadn’t wanted any actual human witnesses to their break-in.

  So much for that.

  It appeared the whole mission was a bungle. Everyone at the castle had seen them. All the people who weren’t supposed to be there.

  And now their fearless leader had come back empty-handed.

  Waldrick basked in his rival’s failure, even though it was to his own disadvantage.

  “What are you looking at, Everton?” Wyvern growled as the coach rolled into motion, heading back to the Black Fortress.

  “Oh…just wondering if you managed to get my firepower back,” he said with a bland smile.

  The Nephilim glared out the window, gnashing his double rows of teeth.

  “Ah…I see,” Waldrick murmured, loving this in spite of himself. Then he eyed the traitorous Fionnula.

  She, of course, had no idea that he was onto her. After taking shelter in the mausoleum and finding the empty coffins, he had good reason to suspect she had lied to him. But he hid this knowledge.

  Instead, he gave the sea-witch a discreet look that said, Told you he couldn’t do it.

  Fionnula made a face at him. “What happened to you back there?” she demanded. “Oh, let me guess: you ran away.”

  “The Gryphon attacked me!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Useless.”

  “I beg your pardon, I’m not the one who botched this operation,” he declared. “You’re the one with the seeing bowl, my dear. As for you, my lord, I warned you you’re not dealing with an ordinary boy.”

  Wyvern cracked the knuckles of a six-fingered fist. “Don’t tempt me, Everton.”

  “Believe me, he knows that now,” Fionnula said under her breath.

  “Aha.” Waldrick tried his best to stay quiet, but after a moment, he could not resist. “So…Jake bested you, didn’t he?”

  “No!” the earl snapped, but Waldrick didn’t believe him.

  “There’s no shame in it, Wyvern. I’m just saying, remember how you mocked me about being beaten by a ‘mere boy’?”

  Wyvern’s eyes flamed orange in reply, and his pupils shifted longwise, changing shape briefly, like those of a reptile, be it snake, lizard, or dragon.

  It was a sufficient reminder of his devilish bloodlines, so Waldrick swallowed his snicker. But inwardly, he continued gloating.

  He pushed his tongue into the side of his mouth to conceal his smile. Well, Jacob, he’s your son, all right. Chip off the old block.

  His brother used to have the power to exasperate everyone around him. Just. Like. That.

  The memories of their childhood together made Waldrick wistful for a moment, especially after that visit to their boyhood home. Indeed, a newfound hope stirred within his half-rehabilitated heart that, maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a murderer after all.

  It had been terrible living all these years with what he had done—or, at least, what he thought he had done.

  As for his ex-talent, he wasn’t even cross that Wyvern had failed to retrieve it. Truth be told, he was delighted that the haughty Nephilim had fallen on his face today—and that Fionnula had seen it.

  Waldrick ought to be angry, he supposed. But, at the end of the day, he didn’t really want his pyrokinesis back anyway.

  Let the cursed vial remain hidden. No one should possess such power.

  It was a dreadful gift.

  * * *

  Jake and the others hurried into the castle to find the butler waiting anxiously for them at the bottom of the grand wooden staircase.

  Potts beckoned, and they hurried across the great hall. “We just noticed it, milord.”

  “Noticed what?” Jake replied.

  “This way.” Potts escorted him up the first flight of stairs to the quarter landing, where the staircase turned, but there, Potts held up a spindly arm, barring the way. “Watch your step, sir!”

  Jake’s eyes widened when he looked down at his feet and saw a black, gaping hole beneath him.

  The wooden floor of the landing had opened up like a trapdoor.

  “Careful, everyone!” Potts warned them as Derek arrived behind Jake.

  His cousins followed, with leopard-Helena and Red bringing up the rear.

  Jake crouched down and peered through the rectangular hole in the floor. Incredibly, he saw a spiral staircase twisting down, down, down into the dark recesses of the castle’s undercroft. He hadn’t even known there was a basement under this section of his home.

  “Sweet Bacon,” Archie whispered.

  “Do you think the vault’s down there?” Isabelle asked, peeking over his shoulder.

  “I do,” Jake said in fascination.

  The hole looked extremely deep. He could not see the bottom of the spiral staircase. It was cloaked in the subterranean blackness down there.

  “Potts, quickly, bring some torches,” Jake said.

  “Yes, milord.” The butler hurried back down to the great hall.

  Jake moved aside so the others could see better. “At least now we know what Wyvern came for—provided Izzy’s right, and they weren’t just hunting for me.”

  “But how could he possibly have known it was here?” Izzy murmured.

  Derek looked at Jake. “Your father was the only one who knew how to find it. Do you realize what this means?”

  Jake held Derek’s stare in shock as the realization hit him. “He really is alive.”

  “The question is…” Archie leaned forward to peer in
to the hole. “How did Lord Wyvern extract the information from him?”

  Nobody answered. They didn’t need to. Only Red let out a low, mournful caw. Jake closed his eyes.

  Derek laid a hand on his shoulder. “Steady, lad. He’s a tough man, your sire.”

  “But twelve years?” Jake whispered, a tremble in his voice. He flicked his eyes open with just a hint of tears burning in them. “Who could withstand that? And my mother, too?” Anger gripped his heart.

  “Jake.” Izzy stroked his arm. “Remember what Tex said. They need the Lightriders alive.”

  “The glass coffins,” Archie reminded him, his dark eyes somber.

  Jake reached out to rest his hand on his Gryphon’s head, steadying himself. “Yes… You’re right.”

  This was no time to give up hope. Indeed, as of this moment, he had more reason to hope than ever before.

  Derek was correct: Wyvern’s knowledge of where to find the vault was the closest thing to real proof they’d had so far that his parents really were alive—at least his father. But the thought of all that the Dark Druids must’ve put them through for all these long years hardened Jake’s resolve.

  As he stared down into that deep, dark hole in the heart of his castle, he made a decision.

  Isabelle searched his face. “Coz? Are you all right?”

  He nodded, righteous anger catching fire within him and burning with a white-hot intensity.

  “What is it?” she murmured.

  “I’m not going to let them get away with this.”

  “The Dark Druids?” Archie asked.

  “They’ve gone too far. But I’ll tell you what,” Jake said. “It ends now.” He rested his foot on the edge of the opening that led down into the dark. “If I’m the key to all of this, as their prophecy claims, then I can’t afford to hide here trying to stay out of it. I need to join the fight.”

  He looked at Derek. “I tried it your way. To follow all the rules and do as I was told. But I see now I don’t have that luxury. You all stand as witness to the promise I make you today. I swear on the bones of my ancestors, I’m gonna take that prophecy and shove it down their throats.” Jake glanced around at them. “I’m going to be their worst nightmare. From this moment forward, the gloves are off.”