Grey Griffins: The Clockwork Chronicles #2: The Relic Hunters

by Derek Benz; J. S. Lewis

  “Using a Paragon Engine, right?” Natalia asked.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Could a Paragon Engine open up a gateway to the Shadowlands?”

  “It’s certainly an interesting thought,” Strange said. “You’re referring to Otto Von Strife, of course.”

  Natalia nodded.

  “I can tell you with confidence that Von Strife does not have the components required to build a Paragon Engine, if that’s where this is leading,” Strange said. “But we fear he may be close. In fact, the business of Paragon Engines is why this class was formed to begin with.”

  “Do we get to jump through one?” Todd asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Strange said. “However, we’ve been given a mission of utmost importance. For our field test, we will be taking an expedition to find the Schrödinger Box.”

  Strange paused, looking around the room as he waited for a reaction that didn’t come. “Am I to understand that none of you have heard of the Schrödinger Box?”

  His question was met with silence.

  “Very well.” Strange sighed. “The box is a critical component of any device that allows you to travel between worlds. Without it, you would be pulled into a million fragments the moment you stepped through the portal.”

  “That’s wicked,” Ross said.

  “Yeah,” Todd said. “Wicked awesome.”

  Strange frowned, as though gauging the sincerity of the comment. “From this point forward everything we do in this class will be in preparation to procure that box. If Von Strife finds it before we do, all hope for mankind may be lost.”

  The bell rang, but the students sat in their seats.

  “Well?” Strange said. “What are you just sitting there for?”

  “We want you to tell us more about the box,” Ross said. “Especially the part where it keeps you from being torn apart.”

  There was a general murmur of agreement from the other students.

  “It will have to wait until tomorrow,” Strange said. “Now get going before your parents blame me for keeping you here too long.”

  SORRY, WE’RE CLOSED

  A week had passed, and all discussion of Paragon Engines and Otto Von Strife had given way to the excitement of the upcoming Round Table tournament.

  Max and the other Griffins had grown up thinking Round Table was just another game. They had no idea that in Templar culture, it was a phenomenon.

  Top players were treated like rock stars, which explained—at least in part—why Xander Swift was so popular. Before he transferred to Iron Bridge, he had won the Merlin Cup. That was the trophy given to the best amateur player in the world. At only fourteen years and three months, he had been the youngest person ever to win.

  Along with Xander, Max was one of sixteen students left in the school tournament, but there were only eight spots on the varsity team. Harley, who had been eliminated, wanted to get Max a gift for good luck.

  “I don’t really need a new pair of knucklebones,” Max said.

  “People don’t give you gifts because you need something,” Harley said. “Otherwise all you’d get for Christmas is underwear and socks.”

  “It’s your money.”

  “Exactly, so stop complaining.”

  As the boys walked down Avalon’s Main Street, Sprig skittered across the awnings overhead as a rambunctious raccoon.

  Max looked up at the clock tower. “We better hurry,” he said. “The Spider’s Web is supposed to close in five minutes. Besides, it’s freezing out here.”

  “You live in Minnesota—it’s supposed to be cold,” Harley said.

  In order to reach the Spider’s Web, they had to walk past the Shoppe of Antiquities. It was an odd little store that offered everything from antique lamps to knight’s armor, but it closed when the proprietor, Olaf Iverson, went missing. Now the windows were boarded up, and there was police tape across the door.

  Max could feel his chest tighten as the powerful feeling of loss became unbearable. Iver, as that’s what everyone had called him, was more than a simple shop owner. Like Monti, he had also been a part of the secret Templar society. More important, Iver had become a surrogate grandfather to Max and his friends, and there wasn’t a day when Max didn’t think about him.

  Iver had been the one who’d introduced the Grey Griffins to Round Table. All the while, he was teaching them how to protect themselves against goblins, werewolves, and trolls without any of them realizing it.

  “I was wondering,” Harley said. “Maybe we should go back in there. You know, to see if we can find what that clockwork was looking for.”

  Before the winter break, Max and Harley had ventured into the Shoppe of Antiquities, hoping to find clues that would tell them Iver was still alive. After all, there were strange circumstances surrounding his death. Most notably, that Max’s father supposedly killed Iver, and the body was never found.

  Once inside the store, the boys had found a clockwork rummaging through Iver’s belongings. They chased it off, but the commotion attracted the sheriff, and they had to leave before they became suspects. Neither one had been back since.

  “Not tonight,” Max said.

  Harley looked at him. Then he patted Max on the back. “Yeah, maybe another time.”

  When the boys reached the comic shop, Ken was already locking the front door. Monti had hired him to help out until things slowed down in the workshop, but it was starting to look permanent, which Max found depressing.

  The store wasn’t the same without Monti. Ken was the kind of employee who liked to show up late, and he wasn’t afraid to leave early.

  He usually sat behind the counter reading comic books or surfing the Internet, and when someone had a question, all Ken would do was grunt. Business had suffered, but Monti couldn’t find it in his heart to fire Ken. After all, Ken had been out of work for three months before Monti hired him. Max was starting to see why Ken couldn’t get a job.

  Harley grabbed the handle just as the bolt clicked. He jiggled the door a few times, but Ken simply pointed at his wristwatch. “Sorry, we’re closed.”

  “Come on,” Harley said. “All I need is a pair of knucklebones.”

  Ken brushed a long strand of black hair out of his face and scratched his straggly beard. “Come back tomorrow. We open at ten.”

  “I can’t. We have school.”

  “That’s not my problem.” With that, Ken flipped off the lights before disappearing into the back of the shop.

  “What a jerk,” Harley said as he leaned against the door with his arms crossed.

  Max was about to suggest that they head over to the arcade to wait for their ride when he saw someone with a cane limping down the sidewalk. “Is that Monti?”

  “Where?”

  “What are you troublemakers up to?” Monti asked when he saw the boys standing under the awning of his comic shop.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Harley asked.

  “I was craving Leonardo’s bow tie pasta with the garlic cream sauce,” Monti said, holding up the white paper bag in his hand. When he saw that the lights were off inside the store, he frowned. “Have you seen Ken?”

  “Yeah, he slammed the door in my face before he went home,” Harley said.

  Monti raised his eyebrows.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Max said, “but he did close a few minutes early.”

  “Were you going to pick up your subscriptions?”

  “No, we got those on Wednesday,” Harley said. “The Round Table qualifying tournament starts back up tomorrow, and I wanted to grab a new pair of knucklebones for Max. I was even thinking about getting some for Ernie, but I’m not sure. He’s still acting like a jerk.”

  “You’re a good man, Harley,” Monti said before turning to Max. “So who are you going to be dueling against?”

  “Catalina Mendez.”

  Monti narrowed his eyes as he tried to put a face with the name.

  “She’s the one with the Digger i
mp.”

  “Ah, yes,” Monti said. “The last time she was in the store, her Bounder had… well, let’s call it an accident.”

  “What kind of accident?” Harley asked.

  “It wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t come out of both ends,” Monti said. “I replaced the carpet, but on a hot day, I can still smell it.”

  “I wonder how Catalina got stuck with that thing,” Harley said.

  “She’s never talked about it,” Max said.

  “Speaking of Bounders, where’s yours?” Monti asked.

  A cat screeched as they heard a trash can being tipped over. Its lid clanked on the ground, followed by the sound of glass breaking. Then something howled.

  “I’d say she’s torturing the strays that live in the alley.”

  “Let’s get inside,” Monti said. He placed his cane between his knees so he had a free hand to fish for his keys. As Monti pulled out a thick ring, he started to cough.

  “I hate traditional keys. They’re so last century,” he said as he fumbled to find the right one. “Come on in.”

  “Are you sure?” Max asked as Monti flipped on the lights.

  “Of course,” Monti said. “I’d love the company.”

  The Spider’s Web wasn’t a big store, but it still held over 250,000 comic books, not to mention vintage toys and action figures and an impressive collection of Round Table trading cards that he kept in the glass case next to the cash register.

  “Is it just me, or does it smell like a dog in here?” Monti asked. He set his food on the counter before he had another coughing fit.

  “No, it definitely smells like a dog,” Max said. “I think Ken’s German shepherd has a gas problem. Why do you let him bring that thing in here?”

  “I don’t know,” Monti said as he knelt down to check what was left in the minifridge behind the counter. He took out three bottles of root beer and set them on the display case. “Well, then,” he said. “Did you have some knucklebones in mind?”

  “Those,” Harley said, walking over to the glass case. He was pointing to a pair that looked like they had been taken from the knuckles of a dragon, which was exactly how the dice got their name.

  “I had a pair just like that when I played for Stirling Academy,” Monti said. He unlocked the display to pull the knucklebones out and slipped them into a black velvet bag. “Not a bad choice.”

  Harley continued to scan the display case until he spotted a red pair with silver numbers. “I guess I’ll take those for Ernie. They match his Agent Thunderbolt costume.”

  “An interesting choice,” Monti said. He pulled them out and tossed them up and down in his hand. “Nice balance, metallic finish. Bartameaus Butler used a pair just like this to beat me in the quarterfinals my senior year.”

  “I could pick another set.”

  “No, no,” Monti said. “He went on to win the Merlin Cup that year. Let’s hope they bring Ernie some luck as well.”

  Harley pulled out a wallet connected to his belt loop by a length of chain. “Here you go,” he said as he handed Monti his money.

  “Much appreciated,” Monti said. He started coughing.

  “You still sound terrible,” Harley said.

  “It’s nothing.”

  The front door opened, and Ross and Todd bounded into the store. Their cheeks and ears were bright red. Their teeth were chattering.

  “How do people live in Minnesota?” Todd asked. “It’s so cold that I can’t even feel my tongue.”

  “What are you two doing here?” Harley asked.

  “Looking for Max,” Ross said before handing Max a large manila envelope.

  “I already have a Toad Report on Catalina,” Max said without bothering to open it.

  “This is an update,” Todd said.

  “You could have sent it to my DE Tablet.”

  “We needed to make sure you got it,” Ross said. “Catalina has a new battle deck, and from what we could gather, it’s nasty. I guess she’s pretty upset after what you said.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know, how you called her Bounder disgusting,” Ross said. “She’s out for blood.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Max said. Then he pointed to Harley. “He did.”

  Harley just shrugged.

  “Ouch,” Monti said. “You shouldn’t talk about people’s Bounders like that. Especially not to their faces.”

  “I didn’t think she’d hear me,” Harley said.

  “How bad is it?” Max asked.

  “Bad, but you still have fourteen hours before the duel,” Ross said.

  “More like thirteen and a half,” Todd said.

  “Either way,” Ross said. “That’s plenty of time to put together a deck that can counter hers.”

  “I’ll take a look at it when I get home.”

  “What’s with Monti?” Todd said after he glanced over at the counter.

  “He’s been sick,” Harley said.

  “I know, but look at him,” Todd said. “I mean, I don’t think people are supposed to have skin that color. It looks like chalk.”

  Max turned in time to see Monti sway before he fell backward into a table behind the cash register. By the time Max reached Monti, Monti was lying on the floor, unconscious.

  UNFORGIVEN

  Max was about to dial emergency services, but he decided to call Logan first. Within minutes an unmarked car that looked more like a hearse than an ambulance showed up. Monti was conscious, but when he tried to stand, he stumbled and fell.

  The Templar paramedic took an instrument that looked like a metal wand and swiped it across Monti’s forehead. The device it was attached to lit up, and then the paramedic entered a few more bits of information before putting it into his pack. A second paramedic strapped an oxygen mask over Monti’s nose and mouth before injecting something into his neck.

  “Just a little something to help him sleep,” the paramedic said when he saw the nervous look in Harley’s eyes. “Now please, step back.”

  Two more men brought a stretcher into the shop. They strapped Monti in it, then covered him with a blanket. With his pale skin and the dark circles under his eyes, Monti looked near death.

  “Where are you taking him?” Harley asked.

  “The hospital down by the mayor’s office in New Victoria.”

  “He’ll be all right,” Max said as he placed his hand on Harley’s shoulder.

  “I hope so.”

  When he finally got home, Max tried to stay up so he could study the updated Toad Report on Catalina, but he didn’t last long. He was exhausted. Besides, it was hard to sleep knowing that Monti was lying in the hospital and nobody knew what was wrong with him.

  From what Max could see, the changes to Catalina’s deck weren’t nearly as drastic as the Toad brothers had made them out to be. Max decided to stick with his usual battle deck for the most part, though he made a few changes that he hoped Catalina wouldn’t expect.

  The first two rounds of the Iron Bridge qualifying tournament had been an elaborate affair. They were held in the auditorium in front of nearly a thousand people. The mayor of New Victoria had been there, as had a number of Templar dignitaries from around the globe.

  Things were going to be different in the third round.

  When Max arrived the next morning, armed guards escorted the sixteen remaining duelists to the dining hall. The room had been cleared—even the clockworks were gone.

  Soldiers armed with nullifier nets and tranquilizer guns were stationed at every door and window, just in case Smoke decided to make an appearance. With only two changelings remaining in the tournament, it was doubtful that he would, but the staff decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

  “Good morning,” Ms. Merical, Max’s homeroom teacher, said from behind the registration table. She was smiling, as always. “Hurry now. I’ll need to scan and weigh your knucklebones, and then Ms. Butama will test your Kinematic goggles. Once we’re finished, Dr. Thistleb
row will say a few words, and then we’ll begin.”

  Max watched as Catalina handed her knucklebones to Ms. Merical. The dice were a strange combination of brown and green, which reminded Max of something that might have come out the backside of the Digger imp that was holding her hand.

  “They passed,” Ms. Merical said, “but I’m afraid your Bounder will have to wait outside.”

  “I can’t just leave him.”

  “I’m sorry, dear,” Ms. Merical said. “It’s official policy, no exceptions. He’ll be fine, though. Just send him out to the pond. It’s nice and dreary out, and there are plenty of places for him to burrow.”

  The imp scampered up Catalina as though he were climbing a tree before settling in her arms. “It’ll be okay,” Catalina said. “I’ll come looking for you as soon as I’m done.”

  Scuttlebutt looked like he was on the verge of tears as Catalina stroked the top of his lumpy head. Then she bent down to place the imp on the floor. Scuttlebutt started to whimper as Catalina took him by the hand to lead him out of the dining hall.

  As the imp was leaving, Ernie burst into the room in a streak of light. When he finally stopped, his face was frantic. “Am I late?”

  “You aren’t early,” Hale said from the back of the registration line.

  Max watched Ernie walk over to her. He pulled out his battle deck, and they went through the cards together.

  “Not bad,” Hale said. “That’s a good one, too. You know when to play it, right?”

  As Max watched them, he had an empty feeling in his stomach. His missed the times when Ernie came to him for advice. When Hale was done giving him pointers, Ernie stuffed them back into the front pocket of his jeans. Then he made eye contact with Max.

  “Good luck,” Ernie said.

  “Yeah, you, too,” Max said. He remembered the extra set of knucklebones in his pocket. “I almost forgot, Harley bought these for you.”

  Ernie frowned. “He did?”

  Max reached into his pocket to pull out the small velvet bag with the gold drawstring. Ernie took the bag and dumped the contents into his hand.

  “He thought they’d match your costume,” Max said.