The Black Fortress

by E. G. Foley

  Derek held up a men’s-sized gauzy white shirt that had a silvery sheen when it moved. “Giant Silkworm body armor.”

  Though the fabric looked fragile, it was well known in the magical world that Giant Silkworms produced a thread that was nearly impenetrable to bullets and blades, and also offered some protection against low-level spells. It was extremely valuable and rare.

  “I wonder where your father got this.”

  “Take it,” Jake said. “It’s yours.”

  “No! I couldn’t—”

  “No, I insist. It looks like it’ll fit you, and I already have another one of those in the Archive in Wales. Consider it my wedding present—to Miss Helena.” Jake gave his mentor a pointed smile. “You may balk, but I think she’ll be glad to accept anything that helps keep you out of trouble. Besides, my father would want you to have it.”

  “Your father might like to keep it for himself, considering we are now almost certain he’s still alive,” Derek replied with a smile.

  Jake glanced at him, still awed by the thought. “No, you take it. You may need it when it comes time to rescue him and my mother.” He felt a lump in his throat as the possibility drew ever nearer.

  He shoved off the wave of emotion, clearing his throat, furrowing his brow, and focusing on the task at hand. “Now if we could just figure out what Wyvern was after.”

  “We’d better keep looking.” As Izzy gave Jake one of her penetrating gazes, he realized his businesslike demeanor didn’t fool the empath.

  Ah well. Jake turned away. Crouching down, he proceeded to scan the lowest shelves—when suddenly, he spotted it.

  A small, sparkling orange potion vial in an ornate footed stand.

  Fine gold metalwork swirled down the neck of the little bottle from the stopper, made in the shape of a dragon.

  Jake knew at once that this had to be the item his enemies had come for.

  But still, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Father was supposed to have destroyed it long ago…

  Uncle Waldrick’s fabled firepower. Oh, Jake had heard the stories. He was shocked to find it intact.

  He reached out and picked it up slowly.

  “Ho! Careful with that,” Derek warned, closing the distance between them with one swift stride.

  As Jake straightened up, he barely paid attention. Lifting the vial higher, he stared in fascination at the isolated talent.

  It was beautiful.

  The few ounces of liquid inside the fanciful container were a reddish-orange hue, with gold sparkles floating around inside it like the sparks that popped out of a bonfire.

  The gift of fire in a bottle.

  “This is what they wanted,” Jake murmured. He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

  Derek lifted it gently from his grasp. “I’ll hold that.”

  “What is it?” Izzy asked while Jake frowned.

  Derek gave his cousin a grim look. “I believe it is your uncle Waldrick’s pyrokinesis.”

  “But how?” She knitted her eyebrows. “Uncle Jacob smashed it years ago. Didn’t he?”

  “Apparently not.” The Guardian shook his head. “That trickster.”

  “So, you’re saying Uncle Waldrick attacked Jake’s parents for nothing?” Archie demanded.

  Derek looked troubled. “It would seem so.”

  Jake digested this shocking information as best he could.

  “Teddy told us Uncle Waldrick came with those two today,” Isabelle murmured. “I didn’t see him. Did any of you?”

  Derek and the boys shook their heads.

  Jake was seriously displeased. “Wyvern must’ve wanted my uncle to be a more useful ally. Like Fionnula.”

  “With this, he would’ve been,” Derek said.

  “Sweet Euclid,” Archie muttered.

  “What do they do with that? Drink it?” Jake asked.

  “Aye,” Derek said. “But this one’s getting stored in the potion room at Merlin Hall. No chance of your uncle getting his hands on it there.” He placed the vial in his vest pocket for safekeeping. “Now let’s do as Archie said and transfer all these things over to his vault.”

  Derek glanced around at Jake and his cousins. “As I mentioned outside, you can’t stay here any longer, now that Lady Bradford’s spells have been breached. We leave as soon as possible. Today.”

  “Where will we go?” Izzy asked.

  “Back to Merlin Hall,” Derek said. “You’ll be safe there, at least. Then the Elders can decide what to do with us.”

  They nodded, and Derek heaved a sigh, glancing around at the contents of the vault.

  “We might as well get started moving this stuff.” As the Guardian gathered an armful of Everton family treasures to carry up, Jake shook off the strange spell the glistening dragon bottle had cast over him.

  As the tension eased, he was glad they were going back to Merlin Hall.

  It had been too long since he had seen the carrot-head.

  CHAPTER 44

  The Test

  “Team four? Where is my team four?” Finnderool looked around expectantly at the group of anxious students huddled behind the chalk sidelines of the playing field.

  But when the wood elf’s piercing gaze homed in on Dani, she blanched.

  “Ahem. C-coming.” Heart thumping, she stepped forward with her quiet Guardian partner, Brian.

  If only Jake were here. Then this test would be fun, not scary. He would make short work of that ogre; he’d float her across the raging river in a trice; and he’d laugh his head off at those little, angry squirrels.

  Oh well. She knew they’d take him into the program someday—they had to—but for now, she would have to make do with the quiet, steady-tempered boy from some mysterious place called Indiana.

  As Brian and she moved toward the front, passing Sir Peter, the wizard gave Dani a look of regret. “Sorry in advance, ol’ girl.”

  Her eyes widened. Would it be so bad that he actually felt the need to apologize? But she checked her climbing dread. Maybe he was joking.

  And besides, Gaia had chosen her for a reason, Dani reminded herself. She could do this. “I-it’s all right, sir. You’re only doing your job.”

  Her answer seemed to startle him, then he chuckled. “You are such an amusing child,” he said under his breath.

  Finnderool snapped his fingers, growing annoyed with waiting. “Spit-spot! Lightrider, come and claim your conductee. People are waiting.”

  “Yes, sir, sorry, sir.” Dani quickly reached into the tin cannister and helped herself to a Pansy pellet.

  Up close, she saw it was a capsule with tiny pink balls inside. When she pinched it in between her fingers, it gave a startling little pop. She then dropped it on the ground the way Finnderool had done.

  Meanwhile, Sir Peter was waving his wand over the playing field, and it transformed in ominous ways.

  Many more trees began rising out of the turf, a whole forest of them. Then a fog descended, obscuring the cheery autumn sunshine.

  Dani gulped. I guess he wasn’t joking. The way ahead looked scary.

  Finnderool scanned the field in approval, then turned to the group and made a horrible announcement: “Ladies and gentlemen, the first three teams got the easy setting for the test. For the next three, we now move to the medium setting. The last two teams will have the field set to difficult.”

  “What?” someone yelped in the back.

  Three other kids groaned.

  Apparently, these were the last two pairs of partners. One girl looked like she might cry.

  Finnderool smirked. “Henceforward, children, this should enlighten you as to how much the Order appreciates eager volunteers. Our agents are people who are willing to step boldly into danger and face the unknown.”

  The kids glanced grimly around at each other.

  “Note to self,” someone muttered.

  But Princess Pansy had finished inflating, so Dani checked her Bud of Life one last time, making sure the gauntlet was safely
secured on her left wrist and forearm. She knew that when they reached the river—if it was still hidden somewhere inside the woods—she’d have to keep it dry no matter what. The Bud seemed secure on her arm, so she collected her fake VIP.

  She picked the Pansy doll up and wrapped her arm around its waist. It was not heavy, just a few pounds, but Her Highness was almost as tall as Dani, so carrying it was a little awkward.

  “Don’t worry, Dani,” Brian said bravely, though his grayish eyes looked frightened. “Whatever comes, I’ve got your back.”

  “Thanks, Brian. Yours too.” She managed to smile at him, but he looked scared, and once again, she sorely wished it were the invincible Lord Griffon by her side.

  “Your coordinates, Miss O’Dell.” Finnderool held out his long, willowy hand for the slip of paper. She stole one last glance at it, then handed it over. “Thank you,” he said. “Now step up to the starting line.”

  They did, putting their toes onto the chalked line edging around the playing field. Ahead of them, the conjured forest waited, with what dangers lurking inside, who could say? Brian and she were about to find out.

  “Ready. Set… Go!” Finnderool said.

  At once, they began jogging forward.

  Dani gradually began to realize that the fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn’t just fear. It was also excitement. After all, this was just a test, she reminded herself. She had faced real enemies many times with Jake and the gang.

  Like Fionnula Coralbroom and nasty Uncle Waldrick.

  Rock golems that tried to squish her.

  Pirates who could turn into terrifying shark-men.

  Ghosts, goblins, and gargoyles. Why, she had even helped face down Garnock the Sorcerer.

  All of this might look scary, but the teachers wouldn’t really hurt them. Reflecting on all this shored up her courage and got her past the fear as she jogged farther into the medium-level playing field.

  While the first three teams had a few groves of crabapple-throwing trees, Dani and Brian got woods. Dark, spooky woods with swirls of fog snaking through them. Here, the afternoon sunshine had turned to twilight. The trees weren’t too close together, but they were large and twisty, thick and gnarled, and Dani could swear some of them had old man faces like the Old Father Yew—only, these ones weren’t friendly.

  No wonder Sir Peter had apologized. She could swear the nasty-faced trees watched them pass.

  Brian must’ve read her mind. “If the last ones threw crabapples,” he murmured, “I dread to think what these might do.”

  “Let’s try and get past them quickly.”

  He nodded, his quarterstaff at the ready. They hurried on to the riverbank, where they realized that the medium-level setting also got the rushing river instead of the babbling brook.

  For them, even the rickety footbridge had now vanished. All they got to aid their crossing was a fat fallen log.

  “I’ll go first and check it out,” Brian said. “Do you want me to take Princess Pansy?”

  “Would you? My main worry is not getting water on the Bud of Life.”

  “Sure. You can borrow this if you want.” He offered her his quarterstaff. “It might help your balance—like the circus lady on the tightrope.”

  “Oh, good idea!” She traded Pansy for the wooden rod.

  Brian gave her a businesslike nod and headed out across the log with the silly-looking doll tucked under his arm. Dani watched nervously. He had no trouble getting across, she saw with relief. After all, the log was mossy but reasonably wide. It would probably be thinner for the next kids.

  Upon reaching the other side of the river, Brian set Princess Pansy down and glanced around at the trees, making sure nothing was about to attack. Then he beckoned to show Dani it was safe to come across.

  “I see a path!” he added, pointing toward the woods.

  “Oh good.” Dani nodded, then stepped onto the log. Next time, I am volunteering to go first.

  Then she set out across the log, holding the quarterstaff like the tightrope lady, who, decades ago, used to entertain the carnival-goers at Jake’s old hideaway in London, Elysian Springs Pleasure Gardens.

  The thought of the abandoned pleasure grounds with its old swan boats and the fading pastel ice-cream-scoop turrets on the once-grand main pavilion made her smile. She had always loved going there, the one place where a scrappy girl from the rookery had always felt safe.

  It was probably all because of him. Back in the old days, homeless pickpocket Jake had ruled the abandoned carnival grounds like a lonely king, camping in one of the ancient garden follies.

  She had found the whole atmosphere enchanting. It had made their hard life bearable then, and thinking of it now gave her a much-needed dose of encouragement.

  As she left the shore behind, venturing out across the river, its watery music filled her ears. The current flowed briskly beneath her feet. She kept her eyes on her footing, but whenever she did glance down at the water, she saw fish and rocks and foam.

  She reassured herself that it was just like going on an ordinary hike. To her right splashed a little waterfall, where the current sang louder as it cascaded over some dark rocks.

  It gave off a faint, pleasant spray. She could feel it as she walked past slowly. This isn’t so bad. At least the log was dry. She really didn’t even need the quarterstaff for balance. This was easy.

  “Doing great, halfway there!” Brian called from the other shore.

  She stepped carefully over a knotty whorl in the log and kept going, rather relaxed about it now.

  Just when she was musing on how real Sir Peter’s magical landscape looked, smelled, sounded, and how impressed Nixie would be if she were here, Dani glanced down at the water.

  And saw a face glaring up at her.

  She froze with a gasp, recognizing in a heartbeat that it was a naiad, a freshwater mermaid.

  While their songs were enthralling and the creatures themselves were fascinating to observe from a safe distance, they had a scary reputation if you got too close.

  Aye, they were known for grabbing people—pulling them underwater and occasionally drowning them.

  She had never really trusted naiads, and seeing one sneering up at her from the river beneath her feet made her jerk back with a small cry. She nearly flailed herself off balance for a second while Brian looked on in panic.

  “What’s wrong?” he shouted.

  She didn’t answer, concentrating on keeping her balance. Usually Jake was there to catch her with his telekinesis, but this time, Dani was on her own.

  While she wobbled with the quarterstaff, the green-skinned naiad rose up out of the water.

  “Come on in, the water’s fine!” it taunted her with a cackle.

  Dani whimpered, teetering. If she fell into the river like Huang had, the Bud of Life on her arm would be ruined, and that might get her kicked out of the program.

  Brian started back across the log to help her.

  “Don’t abandon Princess Pansy!” she yelled, regrouping.

  After all, she had the quarterstaff to keep the naiad at bay, and if Brian turned his back on Princess Pansy, something would probably come out of the woods and steal her.

  Just as Dani found her footing, planting both feet securely on the log, the naiad splashed her with another nasty laugh.

  She yelped but managed to protect the Bud of Life from getting wet. To her relief, the naiad sank back down into the river and swam away.

  The next team probably wouldn’t be so lucky.

  Dani’s heart was still pounding as she scurried the rest of the way across the log and fled back onto solid ground on the other side.

  “Blimey,” she said, panting. She gave Brian back the quarterstaff.

  “You all right?”

  She nodded, accepting Princess Pansy in return. “That was close.”

  “Too close,” he agreed, glancing uneasily at the water.

  “C’mon,” Dani said. “We’ve got to find the waypo
int.”

  “You know your numbers?”

  “Aye,” she said firmly, then they marched into the woods, taking the path Brian had found. The river sounds faded behind them, but it wasn’t long before another worrisome sound reached them from ahead.

  Thud…! Thud…! Thud…!

  “Mother Mary,” Dani whispered, clutching Princess Pansy. “What was that?”

  It continued.

  Brian shrugged, scanning the woods ahead with a look of fierce determination.

  “The ogre?” Dani whispered.

  “I don’t think so. Let’s keep our eyes open. We haven’t even seen the waypoint yet.”

  “Right.”

  They pressed on deeper into the forest, nervously watching for the source of the dull pounding noise to reveal itself from wherever it was hidden among the trees.

  The thumps grew louder, their rhythm slow but steady.

  Brian gripped his quarterstaff tighter—prepared, Dani hoped, to meet whatever sort of threat showed up to greet them. They walked softly over the bed of dried leaves and soft dirt, doing their best not to make any noise.

  But as they approached the source of the thumping, Dani also heard splintering sounds along with the thuds. Brian must’ve already picked up on that with his excellent Guardian hearing. At last, they could take a reasonable guess at what the sound might be.

  “It sounds like someone’s chopping wood,” Brian said very quietly. “Maybe trying to cut down one of these awful trees.”

  Dani drew in her breath. “A woodcutter? Like in the fairytales?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, that’s not good!” she said in a hushed voice.

  “Why?”

  “Because the woodcutter is always bad in the fairytales, Brian! Hansel and Gretel’s father was a woodcutter, and he abandoned them to die in the woods!”

  “Huh.” Brian thought this over for a beat, but remained unflappable. “Well. It’s just an old story. On the other hand, I guess it also means he does have an ax.”

  “That too.”

  They exchanged a dire look, then ventured onward, keeping as silent as possible. Hiding behind the trees as they sneaked along, they hadn’t gone much farther when they saw him: a huge woodcutter, just like the cold-hearted father of the poor breadcrumb kids.