by Amy C. Blake
“And for whatever’s cuttin’ the dragons,” Lizzie said under her breath.
Levi nodded solemnly as Miss Althea approached the campers. “Time to go, everybody. Line up with another camper. We’re using the buddy system. You’re responsible for your partner. Stick together.”
Levi started toward Sara, but Morgan stepped out from behind a nearby tree, headed straight for him, and said, “Levi . . .” just as Suzanne pushed past her.
“Oh no you don’t, little girl. I’m hiking with Levi.” Suzanne shot a filthy look at Hunter. “At least I know he won’t abandon me if something tries to kill me.”
With a low growl, Hunter turned away. When Morgan walked over to him and whispered something Levi couldn’t hear, Hunter shoved away from her, scowling. He stalked to where Luke had moved into line with Sara and pushed between them.
“Hike with me, Sara,” Hunter commanded.
Frowning hard, Levi caught Sara’s eye. She gave her head a small shake and lined up with Hunter. Morgan ended up with Luke. Lizzie brought up the rear with Braden. She didn’t look pleased.
Suzanne gripped Levi’s arm, squeezing the new scab on his elbow, and he sighed. It was going to be a long day.
Levi had never been so glad to see the castle, not even last year after the horrible night with Deceptor. And it wasn’t because of the danger, because there hadn’t been any. At least nothing more than the usual hazards that went with climbing a rain-slick mountain trail with twenty kids and only two adults, both of whom were shorter than the average six-year-old. Even Braden behaved himself, possibly because Lizzie looked like she’d gladly throw him off the nearest cliff if he didn’t.
No, it was the company that made Levi’s hike torture. Suzanne hadn’t shut up the entire time, and if he never had to listen to a fourteen-year-old girl’s list of troubles again, it would be too soon. Between that and watching Sara chat with Hunter like they were the best of friends, he felt like his head was about to explode.
The moment Levi crossed the threshold, his body sore and his back aching from the weight of his gear, Mr. Dominic drew him away from his friends and upstairs to his study. As soon as the door closed behind them, the director faced Levi. Dark circles shrouded his eyes, and a deep wrinkle creased his brow.
“Albert and Althea tell me you met Nithir and Middie.”
Levi nodded. Would Mr. Dominic be offended if he put down his stuff? He’d really like to sit. Better yet, he’d love to forget the whole thing and go take a nap.
The director blew out a breath, his eyes intense. “Tell me exactly what happened. Don’t leave out a single detail.”
“Yes, sir.” Levi sighed. No rest for the wicked, and the righteous don’t need none. Wasn’t that what his grandpa always said? With a longing glance at an overstuffed chair, Levi ran his tongue over his parched lips and opened his mouth to begin.
Mr. Dominic’s expression softened. “Wait, son, I apologize.” He took the pack from Levi’s back, accidentally scraping the scab from Levi’s arm and making it bleed again. “I’m sorry.” He dropped the pack into a corner and fetched a tissue from a box on a bookcase. He gave it to Levi, gestured for him to sit, and poured water from a pitcher in the corner. He offered a cup.
“Thanks.” Levi slurped the liquid, set the cup on the floor at his feet, and pressed the tissue against his bleeding elbow.
“I’ll let you get cleaned up and rested soon,” Mr. Dominic promised. “But I really must ask for the full story first.”
Levi launched in, recounting everything as best he could remember.
“You say the cut was straight and deep? Perhaps like a knife wound?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Nithir actually stopped his attack when you told him to?”
Levi nodded.
Mr. Dominic studied him so closely he squirmed. What was the big deal? He knew dragons were horrifying and all, but these were trained dragons. Surely they were used to taking orders from people. Or at least from elves, which was pretty much the same thing, right?
“That’s it?” The director’s eyes were twin probes. “Nothing else happened out there?”
He swallowed hard. Should he mention the shipwreck? What about the purple-eyed she-devil? Would he get in trouble if he did? Miss Althea had told him to stay in his tent and he’d disobeyed. Besides, the whole thing was probably a hallucination of his sleep-deprived brain. At least that’s what he kept hoping.
He feigned a big yawn, a delay tactic he’d used more than once with his parents. “Sorry, I’m wiped out.” Maybe Mr. Dominic wouldn’t ask any more questions.
The director stared at him in silence, his gaze sharp, suspicious. After a few moments, though, the intensity lessened. “Fine, you may go.” He rose and opened the door. “Probably wouldn’t hurt to stop off at the infirmary for a bandage or two.” He indicated the tissue stuck to Levi’s elbow.
Levi hefted his pack.
Mr. Dominic scrunched his sunburned nose. “A bath wouldn’t hurt either.”
Levi bent his lips into a smile and grabbed the doorknob. Then hesitated. Maybe he should mention the freaky purple-eyed girl. Maybe if he told Mr. Dominic, she wouldn’t join the other monsters in his nightmares. Besides, he was tired of hiding things from the adults in his life. He needed their help.
Then his brow constricted at a new thought. What if the monster girl was Deceptor in yet another form? If so, he absolutely had to tell Mr. Dominic.
The director touched his shoulder. “Levi, something else happened. What is it?”
The truth, Levi. All of it. “This morning, early, I left camp to go for a walk.” Heat climbed his neck, and he studied his freckled fist on the doorknob. “It was real foggy. After a while I ran into this shipwreck thing.” He glanced at the director, whose expression stayed neutral. “And then when I tried to follow my tracks back to camp, I ended up by these trees, and there was this . . . girl . . . sitting under them.”
“What girl?”
“She had her face down. At first I thought it was Sara because her hair was really long and blond and all. The wind was blowing me backward really, really hard, but—”
Alarm entered Mr. Dominic’s eyes.
Levi’s throat tightened. Yep. He’d been stupid to ignore the warning. “I . . . I was afraid something was wrong with her, so I called her name and she looked up. I saw it wasn’t Sara, but she smiled at me and reached out her hand.” He paused. Would the director think he was nuts? Making up stories? He rushed ahead anyway. “Before I touched her hand, the wind knocked me down, and she turned into this monster thing with fangs and purple eyes, and I thought she was going to attack me. So I ran away.” He stopped, sucked in a breath, waited. Time for the loony bin.
“A mormo? Has he brought them in?” the director said in a hoarse murmur. His gaze drifted from Levi’s as if he’d forgotten he was there. “But it’s been more than a month since the last attack. Surely she isn’t really here . . .” He fixed his eyes on Levi and grasped his shoulders with both hands. “It had purple eyes? Are you certain?”
Levi gave a hesitant nod.
“Why didn’t you stop?”
“Sir?” Because he was running for his life maybe?
“When the Spirit blew you back, why didn’t you listen?”
He blinked several times. The wind. It had tried to stop him. Just like when he went down to the cellar. Just like last summer. Would he never learn? “I . . . didn’t think.”
But Mr. Dominic seemed to have forgotten him again. He muttered in a barely audible voice, “Maybe it’s a trick. I pray it’s a trick.”
“Sir?” Levi finally said, unable to bear Mr. Dominic’s fingers biting into his shoulders any longer. “Sir, your hands . . .”
With a shake of his head, the old man let go and apologized. “There’s nothing to be done but check it out. You say it was near the shipwreck?”
“To the east of it, I think. I was sort of lost when I met her.”
“I understand.” He reached
around Levi and opened the door.
But Levi didn’t step through it. “Mr. Dominic?”
“Yes?”
“What was she?”
The old man’s sigh bespoke extreme weariness. “A very evil creature. If you had touched her, she would’ve been freed to attack you.” He met Levi’s eyes. “Be thankful you escaped her. That God spared you. Never disregard His warnings again.”
Levi nodded, too scared to ask for details.
“One thing is certain.” Mr. Dominic straightened to his full height. “All campers will be restricted to the castle grounds from here on out. We’ll double our security. I’ll make a scouting trip to the mountains myself as soon as I alert the staff.” He stopped ticking off items on his long fingers and graced Levi with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry you met up with her, my boy. Try to put her from your mind.”
Again Levi nodded, though he doubted it would be so easy to obey.
23
Fit to Rule?
Gasping for breath, Levi pushed open the door to the fourth floor. Had the spiral staircase grown steeper while he was gone? He staggered along the hall, dragging his stuff behind him, weighed down by thoughts of the mormo. Would Mr. Dominic find her? Could she come into the castle? He firmed his quivering jaw and forced the sound of her scream from his ears. He refused to think about the dripping fangs surrounded by her blood-red lips. He had to get a grip. He couldn’t . . . wouldn’t . . . let her join the other monsters in his nightmares.
But he couldn’t help shivering. Maybe a hot bath would melt the fear from his heart. That and some sleep. His eyes burned like jellyfish stings every time he blinked.
Tired as he was, though, he couldn’t resist a look at the shipwreck painting across from his room. He dropped his stuff and leaned in so close his nose almost touched the canvas. He inhaled the scent of old paint and dust as he tried to make out the fine detail of the ship’s side. There. What did the words say?
Unable to make out the fine print, he huffed.
Something touched his shoulder. He jumped and banged his greasy forehead against the picture. Knocked loose from its hanger, the painting dropped. Levi fell to his knees, hands outstretched, and caught it just before it smashed to the stone floor. His poor knees weren’t so fortunate.
Groaning, Levi shoved himself upright, holding the painting with great care, and turned to see what had startled him. Mrs. Sylvester stood mere inches away, her face white against the long blond hair drifting loose around her shoulders. Her blue eyes were wide, and her lips parted like the mormo’s.
He barely repressed a shriek. “I . . . um . . . I’m sorry, ma’am.” He swallowed against the dryness in his throat.
She didn’t move a muscle, her gaze fixed on the painting in his hands. “Have you seen my husband?”
“Oh.” He blinked a few times. “He stayed to help with the dragons. Somebody hurt them.”
Her eyes darted to his face. “What? Where?” The words came out sharp, like claws.
Levi took a backward step but was halted by the cold stone wall. “On the mountain.”
She stared at him a second longer, then spun on her heel and disappeared into her room. Levi released his pent breath.
He looked down at the picture weighing heavy in his hands. He’d better figure out how to get it hung back up right. When he flipped it over, he found a piece of wire looped around two tacks. He straightened it and was lifting the painting toward the nail when small handwriting at the picture’s base caught his eye. He stepped nearer the window and peered at the tiny cursive letters. “The Canadian Queen by Nydia Sylvester. June 15, 1885.”
Nydia Sylvester? Miss Nydia painted this picture? No way.
His gaze flew to the hall chaperones’ door as a surge of sorrow for Mrs. Sylvester pushed into his heart. She must be reminded of her dead daughter every time she left her room and saw this painting. Her daughter who had betrayed the kingdom of Terracaelum and put Sara, the girl she’d vowed to protect, in a situation where she would’ve died if Nydia hadn’t repented at the last moment and taken the death stroke instead.
Levi’s thoughts returned to one of the many questions that had worried him all year. What had happened to Miss Nydia when she’d died? Had she gone to Heaven? Hell? Or had she simply stopped existing? What happened at death to the non-humans populating Terracaelum? It was yet another question he wished he could ask his dad.
He thought of the phone call he’d been unable to make that afternoon. He needed to tell his parents the truth. But how could he do such a confession justice on a five-minute phone call surrounded by waiting campers? That would be so selfish, dropping such a bomb on his parents without enough time for them to ask questions or even scold him for his deception.
His shoulders slumped. He’d have to wait until after camp ended to make things right.
With a heavy sigh and another sad look at Mrs. Sylvester’s door, Levi hung the painting in its spot and carried his stuff to his room.
If Levi hadn’t been so exhausted, he would’ve walked right back out of his room. A stench filled it, one so strong it made his already-burning eyes feel like somebody had dripped acid into them. “Ugh. What is that stink?”
Trevor didn’t remove his nose from the open window. “Steve.”
“Steve?”
“Steve,” Tommy said through the pair of gym socks he held over his lower face.
Levi wondered briefly if the socks were clean or dirty. With another inhale, he realized it didn’t matter. Even socks coated in week-old sweat had to smell better than this stench. He pulled his shirt up over his nose and breathed in the stink of his own pits. “What happened to Steve now?” Surely not another exploding toilet.
“He met up with a skunk.” Trevor’s expression was pained.
“Actually,” Tommy said dully, “he fell on a skunk.”
Poor Steve. Poor skunk. “Is he okay?”
“Who?” Trevor blinked his watering eyes. “Steve or the skunk?”
“Or us?” Tommy groaned.
Levi couldn’t help but smile. “I was talking about Steve.”
The bathroom door opened before either could answer, and Steve walked out wrapped in a thick towel. Red smeared his forlorn face.
“You okay?” Levi stepped toward him. “Is that blood on your face?”
Steve shook his head. “Tomato juice. Supposed to get rid of the smell.” He gestured toward the bathroom.
Levi glimpsed the bathtub full of red liquid. “Oh.”
So much for a nice hot bath.
Levi flopped beside Sara on the thick grass near the empty archery mound later that week and opened his copy of A Bride Named Thor. “I hate this.”
She offered a sympathetic smile. “I know.”
He smiled back, appreciating that she didn’t tell him he was silly for worrying about it. He settled in to studying lines while she read an English translation of Prose Edda, a collection of Norse myths, for Literature class.
After a silent half hour, he looked up, his eyes on the distant mountains. “Heard any more about Nithir and Middie?” He and Sara had told their friends about the campout, but only Sara had been with him to face the angry dragons. “Are they okay?”
“Mom said their wounds are pretty well healed. Mr. and Mrs. Drake spent most of the week with them.” She looked down at her hands. “Mr. Sylvester came back soon after we did, though, because the dragons were trying to attack him.”
“That’s weird. I thought he was their trainer.”
“He raised them from hatchlings. Most creatures are completely loyal after that.” Sara’s brow furrowed. “Of course, it’s probably best for Mrs. Sylvester that he came back early. She gets anxious when he’s gone for very long, ever since . . .”
Levi nodded, but he was distracted with a new and very distressing thought. Why would the dragons attack their trainer unless he’d . . . done something to earn their distrust? And then there was Mrs. Sylvester and her strange behavior. What if his elf h
all chaperones had turned traitor like their daughter?
He shook his head. Now he was just being paranoid. “So, did they figure out what happened? Was it Deceptor who cut them?”
“Probably, but we don’t know why.” She shrugged. “Other than the obvious, of course.”
His forehead creased.
She rolled her eyes. “To make them mad enough to attack people so the mountains aren’t safe.”
“Oh, yeah, that.” Levi’s cheeks heated. “Did they find any other injured creatures?”
“Not yet.”
“Let’s hope they don’t.”
She nodded then returned to her reading. Levi looked back toward the mountains. He could just make out something massive among the upper trees. Maybe Mr. Dominic’s friendly giant hunting for his supper?
He glanced at Sara. With her head bent over the book on her lap and her blond hair hanging loose nearly to the grass, she looked almost identical to the she-devil on the other side of the mountain. A shudder tickled his spine as an image of purple eyes and gaping jaws replayed in his mind.
Then there was that lake monster. And Regin. And the dragons. Middie and Nithir were supposed to be tame, like the friendly giant, but they’d attacked. How many other dangerous creatures were there in Terracaelum? How many were supposedly under the Dominics’ rule?
He thought of the deep lines and sunken eyes in Mr. Dominic’s face and the near-constant trembling of Mrs. Dominic’s hands. Could a couple soon to be a century and a half old really control those wild and dangerous beasts? Sure, they’d stepped up security and restricted the campers to the castle grounds. Sure, Albert said the men were taking turns patrolling the mountains in case of attack, but still.
He glanced at Sara again. Should he tell her about the mormo? Or about the lake monster? If he did, he’d probably end up spilling his guts about her parents and how he wasn’t sure they could handle ruling Terracaelum anymore.
He didn’t need anything else to feel bad about.
Probably best to leave it alone.