by E. G. Foley
“Becaw?”
“Fine! I don’t hate Isabelle, either, but she’s been really annoying ever since she met Mr. Saint Perfect,” he said vehemently. “Or as I prefer to call him, Mr. Poop-Stink. Heh.”
“Caw,” Red said with a bit of a frown about the edges of his beak.
“Hey, I can be mad if I want to. It’s my birthday! At least for a few more hours. Some birthday.” He let out a sigh, ignoring the fact that he was alone at his pity party.
Then a sudden, worried thought occurred to him. He glanced at the dark woods around the Gryphon’s nest. “Red, make sure you warn me if you see that hideous troll coming this way. I think he lives in a cave or a hole around here somewhere. I swear, if he bothers me again, this time, I’ll levitate him into the Venemous Tython’s cage. See how he fares then!”
Night had fallen, and he didn’t even care that he was in the zoo after dark. How dangerous could it really be after spending the day with dragons in the wild? The menagerie was kind of peaceful after dark, actually.
The Dreaming Sheep were bouncing high into the sky with the winged sheepdog chasing after them. He could hear the Venemous Tython snarling in its cage below, but he was confident the thing couldn’t get out. Near the entrance, the climbing fish were chirping in the mud while Malwort was chatting away down in the Fairy Stinger’s cage, getting to know his green, hairy, oversized “cousin.”
On his way to Red’s nest, Jake had stopped to see how the two were getting on. The arachno-sapiens had been babbling nonstop in his weird little voice, and the Fairy Stinger answered, humming its equally strange tunes.
Quite a pair they made.
He had also spotted Ogden Trumbull bedding down for the night. The half-troll hybrid had tucked himself into a long, low indentation among the rocks in the hillside.
“I sure won’t miss him when we leave,” he mused aloud. “I can’t believe I’ve got to stay here for—how many more days?”
Red rested his beak on Jake’s knee, but did not answer.
Comforted by his big pet’s presence, Jake stroked the Gryphon’s head. Baby-chick type feathers had started popping up all over Red’s scalp, shoulders, and wings.
“You’re looking a lot better than yesterday, you know.”
“Becaw.”
Jake took that to mean that Red was feeling a good deal better, too. But, for himself, his restless thoughts kept on churning.
“I mean, who does that kid think he is, anyway?” he burst out. “Where does he even come from? I wish Derek never tried to foist him off on us. He wants us to be friends. Isabelle insulted him today by accident. It was pretty hilarious. She wasn’t trying to be mean—it just slipped out—but that should get rid of him now. I almost felt sorry for the glocky bloomin’ mumper. Almost. Do you realize if he became her beau he would always be lurking around us? Ugh.”
“Becaw?” Red asked, as if to say, Is he really that bad?
Jake ignored the question. “I just want to go back to Griffon Castle, don’t you? This Gathering’s a bore. Can you believe that troll kid nearly killed Archie and me today?”
Red growled sympathetically. “Caw!”
“No, that’s all right, boy. Don’t worry, we handled it. But thanks, though. All’s well that ends well,” he added, wryly echoing Maddox’s conclusion about the debacle. He shook his head in resentment, hating the fact that he’d had to be rescued.
It did not sit well with his male pride at all.
“You know what it is?” he admitted to Red in frustration after a moment. “It’s knowing I’ll never be as good as that kid. It’s not just skills, I mean—his character. He’s as strong as Derek, and as chivalrous as Archie, and it’s completely annoying, because then there’s me. Truth be told, he kind of terrifies me. How am I ever supposed to live up to that?
“I feel like I’m walking on eggshells half the time, making it up as I go along. And you realize nobody’s ever going to let me live it down that I used to be a thief. Maddox threw it in my face today, and I just… I don’t know, Red. I just wanted to shake him up. Show him he’s not so perfect, either. That’s why I made the dragon poo fly up on him, I guess. To get a reaction. It wasn’t very nice, I know, but at the time, I just wanted to get under his skin the way he gets under mine. Give him a taste of his own medicine.”
“Becaw,” Red answered wearily.
Jake heaved a sigh. “I know. I’m an idiot. Derek was right. I acted immature.” He paused. “Maybe I am still just an annoying little kid. Maybe I always will be. Red, growing up is rotten.”
He sat there, brooding in philosophical silence for a moment, and then absently, he noticed that one of the downy feathers on Red’s shoulder looked a strange color in the lantern’s glow. Not the usual scarlet, but gold.
Weird.
He smoothed the golden bud of a feather, still distracted by his thoughts. “I can’t wait for Maddox to see you once you’re all better,” he remarked. “That glock-wit actually claimed he wasn’t afraid of you. Ha! We’ll see about that once you’re back on your feet. Will you scare him for me? Not for serious, just for a joke.”
Red didn’t answer either way, serenely enjoying Jake’s attention.
“Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you about this girl. Nixella Valentine—how’s that for a name? She’s really bizarre, but I think Archie likes her. Actually, I’ve had my suspicions she might be a spy for the Dark Druids.”
“Caw?” Red lifted his head and looked at Jake in astonishment. His golden eyes blinked.
“She’s just a young girl, Dani’s age, and that would be unlikely, right? But on the other hand, doesn’t it make sense that they’d send a spy nobody would suspect? I mean, she’s incredibly talented as a witch. Really smart and powerful. Even Aunt Ramona was impressed.” Jake shrugged. “Why not? She could be the one.”
“Becaw,” Red chided.
“That’s true… Fooling Archie is one thing, but not too many people can fool Aunt Ramona. Say, what’s that?” Jake pointed at the sky, where the winged sheepdog suddenly started barking.
Wings pumping, it raced past the moon, chasing some flying creature away from one of its bouncing sheep.
Jake had brought along the telescope Archie had given him for his birthday. Even if he wasn’t allowed to talk to anybody until tomorrow, banished to solitude per Derek’s orders, he could still observe others from a distance and maybe keep watch for the spy while he spent time with Red. He quickly took the telescope out of his waistcoat, unfolded the cylinder, and lifted the lens to his eye.
The dog was definitely chasing something, but it was too dark to see well. Jake flipped the special lens clockwise, clicking the night setting into place. That’s better.
Once he found his target, he was startled to see the dog chasing away a giant black bat that was trying to bite one of the sheep.
The big, fluffy dog snarled and snapped at it, going on the attack, until the bat gave up and flapped away.
Jake shuddered at the sight of its four-foot wingspan, watching its every move. “That thing had better not come this way.”
The great bat descended in swooping spirals toward the ground. But what happened next was even stranger. Following its progress through the telescope, Jake gasped aloud, for as it neared the ground, the bat turned magically into a person.
It jumped down onto the grass, a man.
He smoothed his black clothes with an elegant gesture, then strode toward the entrance of Merlin Hall, barely missing a stride.
Jake stared in disbelief, gooseflesh prickling down his arms. He barely dared blink as he watched the bat-gentleman through the telescope.
The shapeshifter or whatever he was moved at a gliding gait. He had longish, dark hair that hung past his shoulders in a sleek queue. As he neared the lanterns that glowed around the palace entrance, the people loitering there to enjoy the night air stopped and stared at him.
He did not acknowledge them but kept his sights fixed on the front doors: a man on a mis
sion.
Why on earth would he try to bite the Dreaming Sheep? Jake wondered, watching in bewilderment.
Then he gasped and shot to his feet.
A vampire?!
He had never seen one before, but he felt very sure he was looking at one now.
But here? How? Merlin Hall was protected from evil forces, and from all that Jake had heard, the vampire race definitely fell into that category.
Guardians came running from all directions, and Jake’s heart thudded to see Derek at the forefront.
The vampire (if such he was) stopped before the iron-muscled row of Guardians that closed ranks a few feet before him; he cast a sidelong glance at the others closing in on both flanks.
Derek held up his hand in a signal to belay his fellow warriors, then the master Guardian took a step forward and said something to the intruder.
Jake trained his telescope on Derek’s face.
Even when his beloved mentor had been furious at him today, Jake had not seen anything approximating the rage that now hardened Derek Stone’s face.
He had scolded Maddox for losing his temper this afternoon; tonight, it was his turn.
When the warrior spoke, Jake strained to try to read his lips. He was fairly sure Derek’s words were something like: “How dare you show yourself here?”
The vampire gave an answer that did what Jake had, until that moment, thought impossible: It made Derek lose control.
Wrath broke from him.
With a fury the warrior had never before displayed, even on the day he had saved Jake from Uncle Waldrick’s henchmen, Derek charged the vampire, tackled him, and slammed him to the ground. Other Guardians closed in to assist, but he snarled at them over his shoulder, loudly enough to be heard from this distance: “Stay back! This one’s mine!”
Derek whipped a knife out of an ankle sheath hidden beneath his trouser leg.
Vampire, all right, Jake thought, his eyes widening as the new arrival sprouted fangs and vicious fingernails to protect himself. But the creature did not strike.
Nor did Derek stab him, though he held the blade up for the blow.
Instead, the two stared at each other; and when the vampire’s fangs receded, Jake realized that the two men shared some sort of history.
Aunt Ramona came whisking out the palace doors just then, looked at them in alarm, and gave Derek a command.
Still glaring, Derek slowly withdrew and rose to his feet, his chest heaving with barely restrained fury.
The vampire lifted upright onto his feet with an unnatural magic, not even having to bend his knees.
Definitely a vampire, Jake concluded, amazed. But that still didn’t explain what this smooth-faced monster was doing here.
The vampire eyed Derek with smug caution as the Guardian stepped back and let him pass. He followed Aunt Ramona, and they disappeared inside. Jake noticed the Elder witch had taken her wand out, just in case. That, in itself, was very rare. He had never seen his aunt utilize serious magic.
When they had gone, Derek pivoted and stalked off into the night by himself.
Well, well, Jake thought as he sat down again, astonished by what he had witnessed. Looks like they found the spy, after all.
# # #
In another wing of the palace, Nixie was finding out the hard way that the Vindico spell wasn’t strong enough to banish Jenny Greenteeth.
Though it flattened Boneless temporarily, all it really succeeded in doing was enraging the hag. She got tangled up for a moment in the black cloak Nixie had draped over the looking glass to try to keep her out.
With a screech, she tore it off her head, then began chasing Nixie through the chamber, making glass shatter and chairs whirl violently around the room.
“Thought you could get rid of me, eh?” she cackled.
Nixie darted toward the door, passing Boneless, who floated in midair like a dried-out pancake, struggling to pop back into his three-dimensional blob form.
“Where do you really think you’re going to go, stupid girl?” the hag taunted. “There’s no escaping us!”
Sure enough, the moment Nixie flung out into the hallway, she heard the dire footfalls and bagpipe strains of the Headless Highlander.
“Oh, no,” she whispered. She spun around just in time to see the kilted figure at the far end of the hallway exchange his bagpipes for his deadly claymore.
She drew in her breath as the Scottish warrior charged at her.
With a small shriek, she backed into her chamber and pulled the door shut with both hands; a second later, the claymore’s blade chopped through her chamber door like an axe.
Lifting her hands to shield her head and eyes from the unholy whirlwind of her possessions flying around the room, she inadvertently bumped into Boneless. Half of him was dry and crispy, but the half she ran into was as cold and slimy as ever. She shied away in revulsion, then realized Jenny Greenteeth was right behind her.
“Back so soon?” the hag asked sweetly, green algae dripping off her fangs as she smiled in Nixie’s face.
The Highlander kept chopping at the door.
Utter chaos overwhelmed Nixie. No longer could she hold back her screams.
“Help! Help! Somebody, help me!”
“Shut up!” Jenny Greenteeth knocked her off her feet with a small but powerful and foul-smelling whirlwind.
The next thing she knew, the witch was dangling her out the window by her wrist.
“That’s enough of that! Are you trying to wake the dead, girl? Perhaps you’d like to join them?”
“No! Please, please, no—I’m sorry.” Nixie flailed in terror as she saw the ground three stories below. “Put me back inside!”
“That spell of yours stung, you ungrateful brat. Try something like that again, and it’s nighty-night for you.”
“Just drop me if you’re going to kill me. Do it and get it over with!” Nixie wrenched out.
“Oh, but this is so much more fun. Nuckalavee, fetch!” The demonic witch swung Nixie with all her might and hurled her out into the darkness.
Nixie screamed so loud the Dreaming Sheep scattered in fear above her, but the real nightmare came galumphing across the lawn below to catch her.
Skinless, blood-red Nuckalavee, a bogey-beast of Scottish children’s nightmares, galloped across the lawn and leaped up, opening his gigantic mouth.
Nixie saw his gaping maw beneath her with its protruding bottom tusks and felt sure the monster would swallow her in one bite.
Instead, Nuckalavee caught her by the arm, holding fast to her with his rubbery lips rather than his razor-sharp teeth. The beast tossed her roughly onto the grass, breaking her fall rather than letting her die.
No, death would have been too easy.
The Bugganes had made it clear that they wanted her alive so they could continue toying with her like a mouse captured by a cat. How they relished tormenting her at their leisure for her “crimes.”
After throwing her aside like a rag-doll, Nuckalavee galloped on into the woods, where he had been lurking, Nixie suspected, in the naiads’ brook.
Through half-hysterical tears, she glanced back up at her chamber window and marveled at how high it was, how far she had fallen. But the hag had disappeared from the window. It seemed the Bugganes had had their fun with her for now. She finally remembered to breathe, though her exhalation came out sounding like a jerky, panicked sob.
She swallowed hard, trying not to cry. Sitting in the tall grass, she struggled to calm herself and make yet another plan that was sure to fail, when suddenly, the winged sheepdog flew down to her and licked her cheek like she was a hurt lamb he was supposed to be minding.
The big, fluffy dog’s show of tender concern was more than she could bear. Nixie broke down crying and pushed him away. “Don’t be kind to me, stupid dog, whatever you do. They’ll kill you. Go away! Leave me alone.”
The dog whined and sat, but Nixie curled up and wept in despair, hiding in the tall grass with her arms wrapped around he
r bony frame. The Bugganes had promised they wouldn’t stop until they broke her spirit.
As of tonight, Nixie felt they had succeeded.
Maybe the Dark Druids were right about everything. Maybe the darkness really was stronger than the light.
Outnumbered and alone, hanging by a thread, she barely cared what happened to her anymore. Whatever light she possessed was flickering. Indeed, it was all but extinguished. And she was beginning to wonder if joining the dark side was the only hope she had for making her suffering stop.
# # #
You do your best all the time and it’s still not good enough, Maddox thought, brooding as he walked across the dark meadow.
Lights flickered in the colorful lanterns ahead, and he stepped cautiously past the ring of toadstools marking the boundary of the fairy market.
It was said anything you might want could be bought here—for a price. After his humiliation today at the feet of Miss Isabelle Bradford, Maddox was wondering what his price was.
Perhaps, he mused, it was better to be rich and feared for his strength rather than penniless and deliberately noble for honor’s sake. What good was it being so handy in a fight if he was constantly required to hold himself back? How was that fair?
It was tiresome, especially when he was left looking a fool, like today, thanks to that brat, the Order’s precious golden boy.
Jake didn’t seem to realize not everybody owned a bloody goldmine.
Maddox sighed as he ambled through the market. Ah, well. At least he didn’t end up having to waste what little money he possessed on a set of new clothes.
He could not imagine what sort of nasty acids dragon dung contained, but as it turned out, the stuff stained. He’d spent most of the afternoon shivering on his knees beside the brook, trying to scrub it out of his clothes by hand. He had washed and rinsed his beloved black jacket and ruined twill trousers numerous times, until he had spotted a strange, hulking, blood-red creature in the brook.
Astonished, he had reached for his sword and stood to fight it in his long johns; but then a few beautiful water nymphs had swum by, giggling and pointing at him, as if he needed to be humiliated one more time today in front of females—with or without scales.