Bad Apple (The Warner Grimoire)

by Clay Held

  Shame throttled Simon. He had kicked a hornet’s nest. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, angry at himself for not having something smarter to say, something comforting that might undo the damage he had just caused. He heard Luke’s mocking laugh in his head.

  “It’s okay,” Penny said. “Whenever I’m feeling afraid, or upset, I come in here. I still like to sleep in here, feels like she’s still close, you know?”

  Simon did not.

  Penny sat on the couch. Next to it was a dark red book, a little larger than a phonebook and the color of fresh blood. She picked it up. “This was her grimoire,” she said, holding up the book. “It was her mother’s, and her mother’s, back through the generations all the way back to the founding of the Order. It had all their secrets, every spell, every enchantment they ever uncovered. When she died the pages went blank, the magic reabsorbed back into the paper itself.” She smiled as she traced her hands over the blank cover. “‘Every life is a story’, she used to say. Everything she knew, it’s all in here, waiting to be rediscovered.” She was quiet a moment. “It’s almost like she’s still here, like she just left to grab an extra blanket or a cup of hot chocolate like she would in the winter.” She blushed. “I don’t even know why I’m showing you this. I just...” She locked her pale green eyes with him. “I haven’t really felt...close to anyone since she died. I guess, after last night, you and I...I mean...”

  Simon’s heart began to pound in his ears. Whatever had happened, she felt it, too, and she could explain it to him, help him make sense of it. He stared at her as he felt his palms start to sweat.

  She shook her head. “It’s stupid. Never mind,” she said, dropping the grimoire on the couch. He started to speak, but she was pushing him back out of the room, her hand firmly on his chest. She traced her fingers along the wall as she went, and after they were clear, the bookshelf slammed shut behind her.

  They continued their work in silence. They made several more trips to the Restoration Room, stacking the books in multiple areas, until the room was almost completely filled. Jo sat behind the desk, eyeing Simon over another pile of silver gears every time he came for another stack of books. “The Bloody Bones really took it out of Dad last night,” she said as they were finishing. “Kept him awake until almost sunrise. His whole day is thrown off.”

  “That was my fault,” Penny said. “I’m the one who let him out.”

  “Gave poor Goody Neb an awful fright,” Jo said, never taking her eyes off Simon. “Thought it was Goodman Neb back from the World-That-Comes. Guess he wasn’t much to look at in life, to confuse him with that.”

  “Jo!” Penny’s cheeks flushed with red. “I told you, I was the one who let it out. Blame me, okay?”

  “Just looking out for you, Sis. Don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

  “Jo!”

  “All right, all right. You don’t have to bite my head off.” Jo stared at Simon over her pile of silver. “You. Nothing happens to her, got it?”

  “Okay,” Simon stammered. “I won’t--”

  “That’s right,” Jo said. “You won’t. Got it? Good.” Jo produced a box from under the counter. “We had some requests from the Frontier Order that need to go out this morning. Since Dad is still sleeping I’m running them down to the Transfer Depot. I should be able to catch them before they head out. Watch the front desk until I get back.”

  Penny flushed. “Will do, Jo. Queen of Books.”

  Jo smiled. “I shouldn’t be away too long. No more fires while I’m gone.”

  Penny settled down behind the counter while she waited for her sister to leave. Once Jo was gone, she grabbed Simon by the wrist. “Follow me,” she said, leading him to the door to her father’s office.

  “What are you doing?” Simon asked. “Can we go back in here?”

  “You heard Jo--Dad’s asleep. I think I know what you’re looking for.” Penny dropped to her knees in front of the fireplace and began to sweep aside the ashes.

  “Why are you helping me?” Simon suddenly said as she exposed a grate hidden in the fireplace under the ash.

  Penny paused. “He’s your father, right?” she said, her face turned away from him.

  “Yes, mostly. I’ve never known my real father, but Sam’s raised me my whole life.”

  “Close enough,” she said. Her fingers found two holes in the floor of the fireplace, and with a small metallic clunk she pulled the metal grate cover free. “In here. Dad puts things in here he doesn’t want me to find. He doesn’t know I found it last year, after...Well, last year.”

  Malkin appeared between Simon’s legs. The kitten cuddled his feet before the open grate stole her attention. Penny scratched her behind her ears with her free hand, while her other arm was plunged deep into the floor. “Here we go,” she said, sitting up. Her arm was covered in soot, but in her hand she clutched a twisted branch shaped like a wishbone. Two of the ends were wrapped in brown leather straps “Is this what you were looking for?”

  Simon shook his head. “I was coming for a crystal your dad wears around his neck. He put it in his desk.”

  “His crystal?” Penny tilted her head. “No...no it wouldn’t work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re looking for someone who’s alive,” she said hesitantly. “My dad is a Master Scryer. You become one by forging an Esper crystal. It can find anyone anywhere. It’s tuned to everything alive, but after Mom died, he retuned it. He tuned it to her. He wears it, in case one day, he can...I mean in case she...” Her eyes glistened with tears. “It can’t do what you want, but if people found out he had retuned it--”

  “I won’t tell,” Simon said quickly. He desperately wanted to change the subject. “So what is this stick used for?” he asked, hating how forced it sounded.

  She held up the stick. At the center of it was an empty socket. Her voice regained some strength. “A dowsing rod. A tool for scrying--uses the ley lines of the earth. Works with crystals, because they’re of the earth, and you can tune them to a specific person or place. Like...my Mom.” She composed herself. “My Dad’s crystal won’t work for what you want though.”

  Penny handed the staff over to Simon. It was almost as long as his arm, a dark wood with a smooth texture. One end of the stick bore an empty socket, a hole just big enough to insert a small rock. Roughly the size of a lucky rabbit’s foot--

  “Wait a minute,” Simon said. Deep down, a loose, wild thought began to run rampant through his mind.

  Penny looked at him quizzically. “What is it?”

  Simon looked at the socket. “This uses crystals?”

  “Yeah...”

  He looked deep into the socket, and the next thought struck him like lightning.

  Crystals.

  Like the one in his room, in the bag with Boeman’s symbol.

  His heart pounded with excitement. “I have one back in my room,” he said. “It showed up yesterday on my shelf. It’s the right size.” He was already backing away. “It has to fit. It has to!”

  “Simon,” Penny said, the lines on her face knotted with concern. “Something like that shouldn’t just show up. Nothing is ever free. If it came to you, it came with a price, whether you know it or not.”

  “I don’t care!” Simon snapped. “This is what Nathan was looking for. It’s been in front of us the whole time.” He clutched the dowsing rod. “This is the best lead I’ve found to finding Sam. I have to try!”

  Simon bolted from the room, Penny close behind him. “Wait!” she shouted, but it was no use. He ran past the front desk, through the door, bursting out into the lawn behind the manor. He ran hard, cutting through the garden, up through the back doors near the dining room, nearly knocking over a member of the staff carrying decorations for the Masquerade. He bolted up the rear stairs, taking them two and three at a time until his legs ached, but he wouldn’t stop. Penny was at the bottom of the stairs, shouting after him, but he would reach his room first and then he would have the crys
tal, and the staff, and he would find the man who had taken Sam. It had to work, it just had to.

  Simon threw the door to his room open, rattling the windows as he entered. He nearly tripped over his backpack, which was laying, empty, right inside the door. Catching himself he saw that his room was in pieces. The bookshelf on the far side of the room lay on its side, its contents spilled over on the floor. What clothes Simon had packed were thrown about the room, the covers to the bed were pulled away and thrown all over the room. The cushions of the couch had been slashed.

  Simon stood dumbfounded in the doorway, long enough that Penny had time to catch up to him. “Simon, wait!” she still shouted. “You need to let me see this crystal first--” Her eyes went wide at the sight of the ruined room. “What happened here?”

  “I don’t know,” was all Simon could say. “I thought these rooms were protected...”

  “They are,” Penny said, taking in the room. “I don’t know how this could have happened.”

  Simon sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the mess of clothing and sheets in front of him and the empty spot on the shelf where the crystal had been that morning.

  “It was him,” Simon said quietly. “He saw it when he was here last night.”

  Penny sat next to Simon, strands of red hair falling in her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “The crystal is missing,” Simon said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I left it on the shelf. I thought it would be safe in here,” he said. “He got in here somehow and took it. I don’t know how, but he did.”

  “Who?” Penny asked. “Who took it?”

  The blood had drained from Simon’s knuckles, he was clutching the backpack so tight. “Luke.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE DOOR AT THE BOTTOM OF THE LAKE

  “Crystal?” Nathan’s voice thundered across the almost-empty dining hall. Most of the tables had been removed by the servants in preparation for the Masquerade, and all around them the house staff continued to set up for the big event, removing the last of the furniture and hanging decorations. The fireplace was being emptied and cleaned, and on the far end of the room it appeared that a medium-sized pond was being installed, complete with cattails and tall grasses.

  “Nathan, keep your voice down,” Kate whispered. “They’re setting up for the gathering in here.”

  “I don’t care!” Nathan said. “Simon, how in the Moat did you find a dowsing crystal?”

  Simon and Penny sat abashed at one of the few remaining empty tables. “I didn’t know what it was,” he said quietly. “It was just in my room. I didn’t know it was anything special.” Frustration snaked through his words. With every passing minute, Sam was slipping further and further from him.

  “Anything special?” Nathan yelled. “Anything special! Look around you, kid! Everything is something special here!”

  Kate put her hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Nathan, enough. He didn’t know. How could he if you continue to keep him in the dark?”

  Nathan locked eyes with Kate for a moment. Her gaze seemed to soothe him--when he spoke again, his voice was noticeably calmer. “We need to figure out where the crystal has gone, who sent it to you, and why.”

  “I’m not sure,” Simon said, which was only half true. Boeman’s words from the Archives echoed in his head. I have left a little present for you, when you’re ready. “It just appeared yesterday, along with some books.”

  “Books?” Nathan raised an eyebrow. “What kind of books?”

  “They mostly looked like manuals,” Simon said. “One was about conjuring, I remember that one.”

  Kate and Nathan exchanged a surprised look.

  “What is it?” Simon asked.

  “We’ll talk about that later,” Nathan said. “You say the crystal appeared at the same time?”

  “They were in there when I came back yesterday afternoon,” Simon said. “Before--”

  “Before the Archives,” Nathan finished.

  Simon hesitated. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t think that’s been forgotten about either.”

  “All right,” Simon muttered. “I’m certain Luke took it.”

  “I agree,” Nathan said. “All this business about him coming up alone from the Delta Order. Something’s not right there. Apprentices don’t travel alone. Penny, you should probably get back to the Archives.”

  “Jo is covering for me,” Penny said. “I told her a little about what’s happening. She said it was okay if I helped.”

  “I’m sure your dad would feel different,” Nathan said. “At the same time, we’ll take any help we can. This whole situation is rapidly growing out of control.”

  “I think we should talk to my uncle,” Kate said. “Go back to him and explain everything we’ve discovered. He’ll have to help.”

  “No,” Nathan said. “I’d rather go back to Peter before that, and I don’t think we’re his favorite people right now. I think we should head out and talk to Cynric at the Gate. See who all been coming and going.”

  “That won’t tell us everyone that’s been through,” Kate said, crossing her arms.

  “It’ll tell us most,” Nathan said. “The Gate connects to most of the major lines, almost everyone that travels by them come through there, and if someone’s been coming from the Delta, they’d almost certainly be coming through there. It’d be suspicious if they went out of their way to not travel by the ley lines.”

  “I guess it’s better than nothing.” Kate eyed the staff as the servants continued preparing the hall for the Masquerade. “We should get moving.”

  The four of them exited the dining room right as the pond was being filled. They moved through the garden and out to the path in silence, Nathan leading the way through the market back to the entrance, then down the path deep into the woods. Kate followed, with Simon and Penny close behind. They passed a few other people heading towards the manor, most of them on foot, with a few spirited along on horses.

  “The Majesties of the other Orders are starting to arrive,” Penny whispered to Simon. “It’s always a big deal. Jo always gets excited. I don’t usually see them this close.”

  Simon watched a young woman glide overhead on a large black raven, her hair falling in long blonde tangles over her shoulders. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and she glided past them without ever looking down. She was followed by a young man riding in a flying vertical wheel. It sputtered and belched white smoke from its exhaust pipe, and his black mustache fluttered wildly as he soared overhead. He wore a tight leather cap and goggles, and he was followed closely on the ground by a slim man with silver skin and brass-colored eyes. He wore a long brown trench coat and a newsboy cap. As the man slipped past him Simon could hear the clicking and whirring of clockwork, and he realized the slim man was some sort of machine. “Are they all here for the Masquerade?”

  “Yes,” Penny said. “We live in several small communities across the Here and There. The Freemancers like to keep connections alive with the other lodges, and the Majesties like to show off.” She eyed the silver man as he disappeared up the path. “The Masquerade Ball is a chance for both.”

  “Keep up,” Nathan called from the front. “Simon, up here with me.”

  Simon picked up his pace, followed by Penny. A rugged man rode past them on a horse. He wore rugged cowboy clothing and had a length of silver rope along his saddle. “Ma’am,” he said to Kate, tipping his hat as he passed. He repeated his action to Penny, then was gone. At the stone bridge they met a large crowd of identical men, dressed all in green and gold robes, carrying a purple and white carriage high on their backs. The windows of the carriage were covered with thick red curtains, and as they passed, loud Dixieland music seemed to seep out from behind them. Simon tried not to stare as they passed, but despite himself he tried to peek into the carriage, only to see a single golden eye peering out at them, and he shuddered.

  Then there was Churl.

  He blocked the p
ath across the bridge, joined by three very large men clad in black robes. “Nathan Alan Tamerlane,” he called out, his voice calm and steady. “Born in a summer storm, raised in the rain.”

  Nathan stopped short. “Well, this isn’t good,” he muttered.

  “What do you mean?” Simon whispered.

  “Full name and mantle. With him that’s never good. Get behind me.”

  Churl spoke again. “Nathan Alan Tamerlane, son of the Quicksilver, The One Who Walks Behind--”

  Nathan smiled wide. “Doug! Breaking out all the big fancy titles I see. Douglas Edward Churl. Born to a weaver, raised within the orb. Hey, what was that nickname we had for you growing up? Kate what was that?”

  “Spiderskin,” she said coldly.

  “There we go. So what can we do for you, Spiderskin?”

  Mr. Churl shuddered and scowled. “The inquiry into the disappearance of Sam Thatch has returned unexpectedly early, and they come bearing some ill news for you, Nathan, as you no doubt have been aware this whole time.”

  Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  Churl removed his white gloves. His hands were thick and covered in coarse hair, and the skin was a withered charcoal gray. They reminded Simon of pincers. “Tell me, Nathan, how long did you think you would be able to maintain this little act? Our agents have returned from visiting Fellis Alistair Boeman in the Volobog and he has a witness for the night in question.”

  Nathan bristled. “Then he’s lying. Imagine that.”

  “Oh, is he now? Honestly, Tamerlane, I expected more from someone such as yourself.”

  “What is he talking about?” Simon asked Kate.

  “This is a long story,” Nathan said. “One that goes back further than we have time. Doug, I see what you’re doing. I’m not going to let you--”

  “Oh, but you see, I already have.” Mr. Churl smiled. “It was quite simple, really. Mr. Thatch was abducted, that we have confirmed, but there is one question that no one has been able to answer to my satisfaction. Where were you when Sam was abducted? So far it would seem you are the only one who has not proved his innocence in his abduction.”