The Black Fortress

by E. G. Foley

  The water came alive, rippling in all directions. Wyvern gripped his wand and backed away from the railing, moving toward the cottage wall as Mother Fouldon untied the goat.

  “Chick, chick, chickies!” She clucked her tongue toward the water as she opened a little gate built into the railing. “Suppertime, y’all!”

  She unceremoniously kicked the bleating goat into the water, where a great thrashing ensued.

  Wyvern barely breathed as the alligators feasted. But the swamp witch seemed mollified when she shut the gate and came marching back to him.

  “This is a dumb idear,” she informed him. “Yer wet behind the ears yet. But seeing as how the others have agreed, I ain’t sticking my neck out for Zolond. I reckon he wouldn’t stick his neck out none for me. And a plague on that Ramona Bradford!” She spat tobacco again, and once more, it dinged angrily into the tin can. “You get it done,” she ordered him. “Don’t muck it up. But me, I’m stayin’ out of it. Mind you, I won’t tolerate no foolishness once you’re the Dark Master, ya ken?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Humph! Ya better say that.” She scrutinized him as twilight began to settle over the swamp. “Truth is, I had me a little visit from Shemrazul the other night.”

  “You did?” He waved off a mosquito.

  Mother Fouldon pointed into the murky distance amid the cypress trees and hanging moss. “See them swamp lights yonder?”

  Wyvern followed the direction that her crooked finger pointed. A weird, bluish glow of gases flickered over the bog.

  “The Horned One appeared to me in the shape of one of them there will-o’-wisps. Told me what you’re up to. Said I ought to help. He’s the boss, so…” She shrugged. “Don’t mean I gotta like it none.”

  The alligators finished their supper and the black waters grew still.

  “I understand,” Wyvern said. “Thank you, Mother Fouldon. I won’t let you down.”

  “Just make it quick on the ol’ coot when ya put him down. Quick and painless. It’s the least he deserves.”

  Wyvern nodded, relieved by her cooperation.

  Yet the swamp hag’s request that he kill Zolond in a fast and painless way made the reality of Wyvern’s goal truly sink in—maybe for the first time.

  Not until that moment had he pondered the actuality of it: killing Zolond.

  He had killed plenty of people before. And it was not the Druid way to become emotionally attached to anyone, of course.

  Still, as he returned to the Black Fortress, it made Wyvern feel slightly queasy just for a moment to contemplate killing the old man he had grown to know so well.

  Zolond wasn’t so bad.

  If Wyvern had had a conscience, it would’ve started plaguing him from that moment forward.

  But the queasy feeling dissipated within a few moments. In its place, a sense of accomplishment filled him. Indeed, a smile spread across Wyvern’s face as he headed down the ink-black stairs to the throne room to tell his father the good news.

  He had completed the task Shemrazul had set for him: Wyvern had secured his allies.

  There were only two Council members he didn’t bother with. Deathhand the Abomination and Lady Nebula Vail were Zolond loyalists and would only blow his cover prematurely. He would deal with them later.

  All of which meant he was now ready to initialize the next phase of his coup.

  Some of his co-conspirators wanted proof that he was Dark Master material?

  Oh, he’d give them all the proof that they required. A grand demonstration of his power.

  Very soon, he would launch a show of force that all of Magick-kind would talk about for centuries.

  And the Order would never forget.

  CHAPTER 53

  Blue Waters

  It was good to be adventuring again, Jake thought several days later as he strolled toward the bow of The Wind Dancer, the large wooden sailing yacht that Uncle Richard had borrowed from the Elders for their party’s transport out to Poseidonia.

  The Order owned the small, elegant ship and employed its capable captain and worthy crew, so there was no need to try to hide magical matters from them.

  The fine teak deck rocked gently under Jake’s feet until he reached the prow of the vessel and leaned on the rails. Gazing seaward, he let the balmy Mediterranean breeze ripple through his hair.

  Dolphins swam along casually beside the sleek hundred-foot vessel as the wind puffed the three tiers of sails on both masts, fore and aft.

  Though autumn had taken over the northern regions of the world, summer lingered around Southern Italy, Sicily, and the Greek islands, near their next stop.

  The golden sunshine was a welcome reprieve from gray skies, and the turquoise water was still quite warm, so it would be a comfortable swim down to Poseidonia, ruled by Sapphira’s father, King Nereus.

  Jake was looking forward to seeing the merfolk’s kingdom again—especially now that they wouldn’t be having any more trouble from ol’ Captain Davy Jones. Aye, it would take the infamous Lord of the Locker a good hundred years to put himself back together after Jake and Archie had blown him to smithereens on their last trip here.

  At least they had stopped him from stealing the Atlantean orb that Sapphira had found near the Calypso Deep.

  Musing on wild memories from that trip, Jake was glad to have something else to do other than worry about the prophecy and Wyvern’s chilling wish to claim him for a son—something else to think about other than the swirling undercurrents of tension occurring in their group.

  Janos and Isabelle were back to being friends, thankfully, but the news from Merlin Hall wasn’t terribly encouraging.

  The kids were able to talk to Aunt Ramona now and then through the communication device embedded in Dani’s training gauntlet. The little Lightrider-to-be would click it on, then hold out her arm as they all stood around her.

  This way, they were able to hear Aunt Ramona and speak to her if they wished. The Elder witch had asked how they were enjoying their first official diplomatic trip, and they told her they were having fun.

  But when Jake wanted to know if they’d caught the mole, she had wearily admitted they’d had no success. Neither she nor Sir Peter nor Dame Oriel’s team of ghosts had managed to uncover the Dark Druids’ spy yet.

  The ghosts had too much ground to cover between them, and, as for the spells and potions, nothing they had tried so far had worked.

  Nixie asked for details about which spells they’d selected.

  Aunt Ramona indulged her star pupil—for educational reasons, no doubt. “We’ve done a variety of truth-telling potions, silencing spells, aura revealers, finders’ incantations… In truth, we’re running out of options.”

  “But ma’am,” Nixie said, “surely the mole is hidden behind multilayered masking or cloaking spells. Wouldn’t these need to be peeled away first, before anything like that could be applied?”

  Aunt Ramona had gone silent for a moment at that. No sound came from Dani’s gauntlet but the crackling of the ethers.

  “You may be onto something, Miss Valentine. An excellent suggestion. We’ll try that.”

  It was too bad Aunt Ramona couldn’t see Nixie’s grin at that moment. Such smiles were rare from the young cynic.

  “Happy to help,” Nixie had said, while Archie slapped her shoulder and mouthed, Atta girl!

  After the conversation ended, Nixie had told them that, unfortunately, unmasking spells took a few days to work—the more layers, the more time.

  “But after that, then they should be able to have their spells sink in. I wonder what they’ll try,” she mused aloud. “A truth-teller or a silencing spell…? Personally, I’d choose the latter.”

  “What does that do?” Dani asked.

  “Exactly what it sounds like,” Nixie said with a shrug. “It’ll mute the spy’s voice so they can’t tell the enemy what they know.”

  “Does it hurt?” Jake asked.

  “I’ve never experimented with it myself,
but I’ve heard it tickles.”

  Jake and Dani exchanged a startled look.

  Then Isabelle glanced mischievously at her little brother. “Did someone say ticklish?”

  She reached over and squeezed Archie’s side. The boy genius folded sideways with a yelp.

  Nixie joined in tickling Archie until he ran away in tears of laughter, shrieking, “Leave me alone!”

  But such moments of levity were rare.

  An undercurrent of anxiety gnawed at the group, especially after Aunt Ramona’s frustrating news.

  Uncle Richard and Aunt Claire were obviously concerned about larger matters, focused on their mission. And half the time, Jake could swear that Archie was hiding something.

  The boy genius just seemed a little…off.

  Jake asked him if something was bothering him, but Archie had mumbled indecipherably and pooh-poohed the question.

  Whatever it was, he clearly wished to hide it, and Jake wasn’t one to pry. Nixie seemed glum about it, too. Jake could only gather that Archie wasn’t confiding in her, either. Maddox was still disgruntled about Isabelle rejecting him for once and for all—if that was the case. Jake wasn’t sure.

  Though their head Lightrider, the affable Sikh agent, Ranjit, was always calm and collected, serene, Tex was restless, still angry over what the Dark Druids had done to him and the other Lightriders.

  Sometimes he peered into the distance with his ominous Texas squint, chewing a toothpick, as though, deep down, he was plotting revenge.

  Only Dani remained generally cheerful, though she was anxious about missing her Lightrider classes and falling behind. Tex gave her some pointers, while Jake tried to pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping on them, but of course he was.

  Red, for his part, was not happy about being near the ocean again. Since lions couldn’t swim, he was afraid of boat travel even on a luxurious yacht, but he was making progress. Instead of flatly refusing to leave the beach, he was cowering in the boys’ cabin, hiding his head under Jake’s blanket.

  The big baby, Jake thought affectionately.

  Janos remained in his bat form during daylight hours and slept in his little black box until the sun went down. Isabelle had taken it upon herself to make sure the box stayed safely locked while their deadly friend was at his most vulnerable.

  Derek and the twins conferred frequently in low tones about everything that was happening, trying hard “not to worry the children,” but their furtiveness put the kids even more on edge.

  Indeed, the only one who seemed perfectly at ease in all this was little Teddy.

  He had become quite the traveler, that dog. Nails tapping, he scampered around the boat’s deck in his little doggy life vest, enjoying their tour of magical places immensely.

  Jake could only guess that the wee terrier was disappointed that the dreadful Piscean potion they’d all have to take didn’t work on canines.

  Alas, Teddy had to remain on the boat that day with Red and Miss Helena, whose inner feline wanted no part of visiting any sort of underwater destination. Janos also wasn’t coming, since he couldn’t come out in the daytime.

  Isabelle also stayed behind. She claimed she didn’t want to get her hair wet, but Jake knew she was merely being polite, offering that excuse. The empath clearly needed a break from the group and the burden of all their churning emotions.

  In any case, there hadn’t been much love lost between his beautiful blond cousin and the equally gorgeous, raven-haired Princess Sapphira.

  For the rest of the diplomatic party, it was time to take the disgusting but effective Piscean potion.

  Dani had gotten special permission from Finnderool to remove the Bud of Life so she could go along.

  All of them dressed in their bathing costumes and jumped into the turquoise waves. Then Isabelle handed out vials of the potion from her perch on the ship’s ladder and watched them swallow it with a wince.

  Even though Jake knew for a fact that the Piscean potion worked, it was painful and scary going through that horrid process again, sprouting amphibious webbing between his fingers and toes, feeling gills open like gashes along the sides of his neck, and those few terrifying moments of being sure that he was drowning. His eyes grew strange, semi-transparent lids, then bulged a bit like a frog’s to help him see better underwater.

  Thankfully, the change only took about a minute, and when they had all recovered from transforming into mer-humans, off they swam.

  Then everything was fine. The dolphins remained nearby to escort them down; Sapphira must’ve sent them.

  What a funny-looking entourage they made, Jake thought, as they glided down and down through the water, passing by the dark, mysterious Seaweed Forest, where they had given Jones’s shark-men the slip the last time they were here.

  The kids hid their knowing smiles from Uncle Richard and Aunt Claire as they passed the overgrown colony of kelp. Archie and Isabelle’s parents were already scandalized enough about the few brushes with doom that they knew about. Others, it seemed best not to reveal, especially not now.

  Leave the diplomats their sanity, they all had agreed. But for their part, the rest of them remembered their dangerous adventure here all too well.

  As they pressed on through ever deeper water, the beautiful seashell city of the merfolk and the king’s coral palace soon came into sight.

  Crown Princess Sapphira herself swam out with a retinue of brawny merman guards and more smiley dolphins to greet them. Her younger sister, Princess Liliana, hurried by her side on her seahorse Wallace, her braids floating out behind her.

  Barely nine years old, Princess Lil had not come to Merlin Hall with the others who’d taken the Landwalker spell, but had stayed home to attend to her studies under Professor Pomodori. It was nice seeing the younger mermaid now. She hugged Dani; those two had become fast friends on their last visit here.

  Greetings were exchanged, then they all swam down together to the palace, where King Nereus received them with full royal pomp.

  The merman king still treated Jake like a returning hero after he and the others had saved their watery kingdom this past summer. Jake had even won the respect of Tyndaris, the stern captain of the palace guard.

  The gray-haired and bespectacled Professor Pomodori, meanwhile, presented Archie with a Latin translation of an ancient book on Atlantis that he had found in the royal library.

  The old scholar said it represented the bulk of his people’s knowledge about the lost empire, so it was not to be shared with landers at large. But, as a token of his thanks to the boy genius for his role in saving the underwater kingdom, Pomodori had faithfully copied all the sketches as well as the text of the book onto the insides of clamshells.

  “Mind you, you won’t be able to see the letters once you go above the surface,” Pomodori reminded his fellow scholar. “You’ll have to put it in salt water in order for them to appear.”

  “I understand. Professor, truly, I am honored.” Archie shook the old tutor’s hand. “I will take good care of it, I promise.”

  “I know you will, my lad. So tell me about your latest experiments…”

  Meanwhile, Maddox and Sapphira took a strolling sort of swim together in the undersea gardens to catch up on what each had been doing. Since both were stubborn, hard-nosed fighters, they got along well.

  It was no secret that the royal mermaid had taken a bit of a fancy to the older lad. And no doubt the attentions of Bellissima helped to soothe the sting of Isabelle’s rejection.

  At the edge of the gardens, Dani was learning how to ride a seahorse from Princess Lil. The smaller princess had brought over her usual mount, Wallace, along with a second, larger seahorse with frilly purple fins for the redhead to try riding.

  Neither the carrot nor the seahorse looked too sure about this. Jake watched in amusement, then decided to join them.

  Unlike on the other stops on their journey, this time, he left the strategizing to the adults. He’d already saved the world once in this place. This
time, why not just relax and have fun?

  Everything they had gone through here this past summer reminded him that he might as well enjoy just being a kid.

  While it lasted.

  * * *

  Meanwhile, far away in England, Lord Badgerton was laughing over supper with the skunkies. They’d had their soup and salad in the first course, and now dug into the main course, a marvelous roasted pheasant with tasty stuffing. Scarfing it down with speedy bites, Badgerton tried not to laugh with his mouth full over the antics of his clever niece and lively pair of nephews.

  It was then, with his fork halfway to his mouth, that Badgerton suddenly felt an odd tickle in his throat. He paused and took a drink of hard cider. The tickle remained. In fact, it got stronger.

  Oh dear. Tugging at his cravat, the shapeshifter lord glanced down nervously at his plate. I hope there aren’t walnuts in this stuffing.

  Prue continued rambling on about how she was the best student in shapeshifter class, to which both Charlie and Welton noisily objected.

  “Uncle Boris, tell her to stop bragging!” Welton said.

  “I’m better than both of you,” Charlie declared through a mouthful of potatoes.

  “Well, now—” Badgerton tried to speak, determined to keep the peace among the little rascals, but the itch in his throat intensified.

  Since the cider had failed, he reached for his glass of water and quickly took a gulp.

  The water went down easily enough. That was a relief. It meant his throat wasn’t swelling up. He had an allergy to nuts.

  Prue was smirking. “It’s true, Uncle Boris. The teacher likes me best.”

  “Brown-noser!” Welton retorted.

  “Now, children, I’m sure you are all equally—” Badgerton started, but he stopped with his mouth open, confused. Because no sound came out.

  The kids were looking at him, as though waiting for him to speak.

  He cleared his throat and tried again, but all that came out was a faint squeak like the air going out of the balloon.