The Dragon Lord

by E. G. Foley

  Somehow, Jake and his friends managed to elude them. Under their dome of invisibility, they progressed farther and farther from their original spot, and even managed to make it out of the construction zone, back out onto the road.

  But the Nightstalkers were on the move.

  The three that Brian had seen gliding up the river now skimmed high across the park site to join their colleagues on Millbank, about twenty yards behind the kids.

  Meanwhile, the pair atop the roof of Parliament were gliding down the front wall of the government building, blocking the way ahead in their search.

  Jake could feel his friends’ fear. It was palpable as they tiptoed up Abingdon Street, clinging to one another beneath their cloaking umbrella. Even Red seemed a little intimidated, silent on his lion paws.

  A few yards farther on, Abingdon widened greatly into the Old Palace Yard, where the magnificent statue of King Richard the Lionheart sat astride his horse. While the Nightstalkers zoomed this way and that around this broader section of road, the kids hurried on as fast as they dared, until the Old Palace Yard narrowed briefly into Margaret Street.

  Very soon, Jake knew, they’d be able to make the left-hand turn that would take them to the north entrance of the cathedral.

  They were almost at the corner where the wide, grassy plaza of Parliament Square opened up, with its bronze statues of dead politicians posing atop thick granite pedestals here and there.

  The Nightstalkers were growing frustrated—as though they sensed the kids nearby, but couldn’t see them and didn’t understand why.

  The largest one let out a piercing screech, which turned out to be a signal of some sort. Apparently, this was the leader, judging by the bandolier across its chest and its somewhat less raggedy garb.

  Jake held his friends back as the whole troop of Nightstalkers swarmed into the narrow passage of Margaret Street to receive their orders. More must’ve arrived, for there were at least a dozen of them at this point.

  The kids stood motionless, holding their breath.

  “They are here,” the leader rasped. “Kill!”

  The kids shuddered as a group and slowly began crouching down under the dome to make themselves as small as possible.

  The Nightstalkers swirled all around them, back and forth, sniffing for them through their gas masks.

  It was unnerving, and Jake wasn’t sure what to do. Janos wasn’t coming this time, but even he would’ve been too badly outnumbered in this situation.

  What are we going to do? They couldn’t crouch here all night, hiding in plain sight outside of Parliament.

  The kids ducked as one of the Nightstalkers zoomed just over their heads.

  Exchanging worried glances, they rose without a sound after it had passed and forged on, inching forward step by step.

  Finally, claustrophobic Margaret Street spilled out onto Parliament Square Garden, a broad, green space across from the Parliament buildings.

  Lampposts brightened the square’s dark, foggy lawns; the tall trees edging its borders stood leafless with autumn. The big, dark statues glistened in the wet.

  To their right stood Parliament, where Big Ben glowed in the Clock Tower. To their left lay glorious Westminster Abbey—where the kings and queens of England had their coronations, and many great poets had their tombs.

  And where the holy water waited.

  Based on his prior experience with this kind of enemy, Jake was fairly confident that the Nightstalkers wouldn’t be able to follow them into the church.

  But when he looked ahead, he didn’t like all that open space in Parliament Square, either.

  Old medieval Margaret Street had felt too cramped, but Parliament Square seemed too open and exposed. If Nixie’s spell failed, there was nothing to hide behind except the row of trees around the border and the granite bases of the statues.

  Ignoring his dread, Jake kept tiptoeing forward with his clump of friends at his back. It wasn’t much farther.

  They had left most of the Nightstalkers behind, but a few were coming out onto the square and flying around, on the hunt, trying to sniff them out.

  It was bizarre seeing spectral assassins pouring into a major tourist destination. Jake felt cold as he watched them flying back and forth along the graveled walkways and sniffing at the statues.

  Devoid of its usual tourists and picnickers, protesters and handcarts selling trinkets and snacks, and, of course, the self-important MPs hurrying back and forth from Parliamentary sessions, the sprawling square looked eerie.

  Tearing his gaze off the Nightstalkers, Jake scanned the route to the cathedral’s magnificent front doors.

  Almost there.

  Glancing to the right as he guided his friends into the left turn, Jake’s heart lurched when he saw the phantoms’ silhouettes flying past the face of Big Ben, like witches on brooms.

  The rest of the Nightstalkers arrived in Parliament Square and continued circling like sharks, growing angrier by the minute.

  Jake was telling himself that if the church doors were locked, he could just use his telekinesis to blast them open. It seemed sacrilegious, but in this case, God would probably understand.

  Just then, the leader rasped out an unintelligible command.

  The other Nightstalkers nodded. Then the whole group turned their scythes upside down to use the wooden ends as clubs. They started swinging and poking at the empty air beneath them with their long sticks. Apparently, they had concluded the kids were here somewhere, only invisible. One good whack should expose them.

  Panic took hold among his friends as the wraith assassins flew closer, as though sensing their general whereabouts. The tiniest of whimpers escaped Dani, and one of the Nightstalkers must’ve heard.

  It zoomed over to them, weapon raised. When it thrust its wooden stick straight into their midst, the blow struck Red’s back.

  The Nightstalker screeched; everyone screamed, including Nixie. The shielding umbrella failed. As the Nightstalker flipped its scythe right side up, the kids fled in all directions.

  Pure horror gripped Jake as he watched the phantom assassins chasing his friends with the blade ends of their scythes. For a heartbeat, he did not know which way to run, which one to try to help first—not that there was anything he could do against these foes.

  Then two of the creatures zoomed toward Jake.

  He tried to run, but they were too fast. The first to reach him gripped him by his right arm.

  This shocked him.

  How could it grab him, but when he tried to strike back, his fist whooshed right through the creature? It was as useless as trying to punch a ghost.

  As Jake struggled against the Nightstalker’s hold, he saw his friends doing their best to make their way to the cathedral. Red was swooping back and forth, trying to get a few of the phantoms to chase him, but they weren’t interested.

  The Gryphon wheeled and darted and rounded back again, while the kids ran around, ducking every which way from the Nightstalkers’ blows and trying to reach the church entrance.

  Meanwhile, Jake had a different sort of problem. The Nightstalker that had seized his right arm began lifting him off the ground.

  “Hey! Put me down!” He kicked his legs, trying to get his feet back onto the ground, but a second phantom arrived and grabbed his left arm.

  Together, the creatures carried him higher.

  “Don’t fight, Your Highness,” one gurgled. “We wouldn’t want to drop the Black Prince.”

  “I am not the Black Prince!” Jake roared.

  “Yessss. The Horned One has decreed it.”

  “No! I refuse—” Then he saw one of the Nightstalkers nearly split Dani in two with his sickle, and he was ready to make a bargain. “Let my friends go, and I’ll come with you willingly.”

  “You’ll come with us, willing or not. And your friends will die,” hissed the one on his right.

  Then the pair of them lifted him three, four, five feet off the ground. Jake was powerless as they floate
d higher than the wrought-iron fence, then as high as the naked trees ringing the square.

  He wasn’t sure if he ought to struggle anymore. Being dropped—or thrown down—from this height would have very unpleasant results.

  Not that he had much choice. Their grip on his arms was viselike.

  “Jake!” Dani screamed, seeing them carrying him away. Teddy began barking like mad.

  There was nothing Jake could do, dangling at the mercy of creatures that he knew had none. Panic overtook him; it was rare that he found himself completely helpless.

  In a few more seconds, he’d be on a par with the roof of the cathedral.

  That was when he saw the flock of doves that lived atop Westminster Abbey suddenly flutter up from their cozy night perches and swirl about in a cloud of white wings.

  Something had disturbed them, and when Jake glanced over in a panic, expecting to see one of the Nightstalkers posted there, he spotted a black-clad figure—much like Janos had appeared on the roof of the church in Sicily the night he’d come to save Jake, led there by his Guardian instincts.

  But this was no vampire.

  The figure standing at the edge of the ornate Gothic roofline held a brilliant silver sword in his hand—and suddenly unfurled powerful white wings.

  Jake’s mind went blank.

  It can’t be…

  Then a brilliant column of white light shot down from the dark sky and landed in the street near Archie.

  Another slammed into place by Dani and Isabelle.

  A third appeared between Nixie and Brian.

  Then the white-winged figure took a running leap off the roof of the cathedral, descending with masterful control.

  It all happened in the blink of an eye.

  Sword in hand, wings outstretched and angled just so, their old friend Celestus swept down a few yards until he flew even with Jake and his captors. His otherworldly blue eyes gleamed, his bright blade flashed, and he skewered the Nightstalker on Jake’s right.

  The creature burst into a rain of ashes.

  The one on the left fled with a terrified squeal, dropping Jake—but Celestus quickly clasped his forearm.

  “I’ve got you,” the angel said, holding him firmly.

  “You’re alive!” Jake blurted out. “A-and you’ve got your wings back!”

  “Nice of you to notice,” the angel said coolly, his fierce gaze on the square as he lowered Jake safely to the ground.

  Jake found his footing on the cobbled road, but couldn’t stop staring. “You saved my life! Thank you. Listen—I saw something back there—”

  “I already know. That’s why I’m here. Run,” the angel ordered him in a low voice. “This is not your fight—yet.”

  With a flick of his wings, Celestus turned about-face in midair, lifted his sword, and charged after the fleeing Nightstalker.

  Jake watched in wonder for a second, then turned around. What he saw amazed him.

  The three other warrior angels protecting his friends were badly outnumbered, but did not seem concerned.

  Jake wondered if they were the same team of Light Beings who had come to Wales with Celestus a year ago, when the demon Shemrazul had tried to escape Hades. The four warrior angels had fought the hideous demon back down into the Ninth Pit, where he belonged.

  And now, here they were, battling the Nightstalkers.

  Jake remembered Janos telling him once that the only weapons comparable to darkling blades were Brightwields—the swords the Light Beings carried.

  No wonder Celestus’ thrust had turned the Nightstalker into ashes.

  But although the warrior angels’ arrival had helped even the odds, Jake knew that he and his friends were not out of danger yet.

  Dani ran over to him and grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face her. “Are you all right?”

  He snapped out of his daze with a nod. “Let’s go!” he called to the group.

  The others also looked entranced by the wondrous sight of the Light Beings thrashing the sinister Nightstalkers, but to Jake’s relief, everyone was still alive and on their feet.

  Red roared, flying low zigzags around them to shepherd the kids back into a group.

  “Follow me, everyone!” Jake said. “Never mind the holy water; Celestus said we need to run.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Archie muttered, while Brian looked dazed by the arrival of real, live angels.

  “C’mon!” Jake urged, then raced toward Big Ben, dodging around the corner of Westminster Palace.

  With Red bringing up the rear at a gallop, Jake led his friends a stone’s throw down Bridge Street, then they crossed the empty street to enter the parklike setting of the brand-new Victoria Embankment.

  The wide, sandy walking path here was well lit by gas lamps, and would take them all the way up to Beacon House as it followed the curving north shore of the River Thames.

  Jake did have to use his telekinesis to blast the park gates open, however. The river walk and gardens were officially open only during the daytime.

  No matter. This would be the safest way for them to go, and the easiest. Jake hurried his friends through the busted-open gates, then pulled them shut behind his Gryphon.

  At once, they all started walking up the dark, tree-lined pathway, anxiously glancing over their shoulders now and then to make sure they weren’t being followed.

  The din of the fray soon faded behind them.

  When they were finally sure they’d escaped the Nightstalkers, they paused for a moment to catch their breath.

  “Did you see Dr. Celestus’ new wings?” Dani burst out, as though she could no longer contain herself. “I’m so glad he’s all right! Oh, I had a feeling we would see him again soon! I found a white feather one day not long ago in our suite at Merlin Hall when I was tidying up. I couldn’t figure out where it came from. I just knew it was a sign—and now he’s back!”

  “With some awfully good timing, I daresay,” Archie said, and the others nodded.

  “I’ll have to tell my mother about this.” Brian folded his arms across his chest with a solemn stare. “She’s always believed in angels—she’s got angel figurines and knickknacks all over our house—and now I can say I’ve seen four real ones with my own two eyes.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe actual guardian angels saved our lives tonight.”

  “They do that,” Jake said ruefully, but he couldn’t help wondering if the demon’s presence on the wall of Parliament was part of the reason the angels had been authorized to come to their aid. Either way, he let out a long sigh of relief.

  “We’d better keep walking,” Isabelle said.

  Everyone groaned, but knew she was right. Wearily, the kids continued on, heading up the wide, graveled path in the direction of Beacon House.

  For his part, Jake was starting to wonder if this night would ever end.

  CHAPTER 16

  Shifty

  “Wake up,” Welton said, nudging Prue after she’d dozed off with her head on Charlie’s shoulder. “Something’s happening.”

  Blinking sleep out of her eyes, Prue lifted her head and followed the runt’s nod toward the front stairs of the library basement.

  Hmm. Welton was right.

  The wood elf, Master Finnderool, had just come gliding down the stone stairs with speedy grace. When he reached Miz Jillian’s side, he leaned toward her ear to pass along some discreet message.

  “They must’ve unsealed one of the doors,” Charlie said, rubbing his eyes with a yawn. “I can smell fresh air.”

  Welton beamed. “Maybe they’re finally going to let us out of here.”

  “Then you two had better be ready,” Prue murmured, keeping her gaze fixed on the front of the basement.

  A moment later, the Lightrider wood elf sprang back up the stairs, and Miz Jillian turned to the crowd.

  The brownie librarian, Mr. Calavast, finally quit pacing and looked up at Sir Peter’s wife expectantly.

  Lifting the hem of her skirts with a dainty motion, th
e woman went to stand on the fourth or fifth step up, so that everyone could see her.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention!”

  The crowd’s curious murmurs quieted down.

  “I have a wonderful announcement! The Black Fortress has gone. The battle’s over. We’ve been given the all-clear. So, please rise to your feet—”

  Exclamations of relief and hoots of joy interrupted her speech. Here and there, applause burst out across the dim, cavernous space.

  She allowed a brief celebration, smiling as she waited for the applause to simmer down.

  “Master Finnderool and his helpers will be unsealing the other two exits momentarily. I’d like to thank each and every one of you for your patience this evening during this distressing ordeal. At least now it’s over. I would ask that we all please leave the basement in an orderly fashion, two by two. I know that everyone is eager to see their loved ones again outside, but stampeding for the exits will only clog the doors. This way, we can all get back to the palace safely.” She clapped her hands twice. “Now then! You may begin queuing up.”

  Across the basement, the schoolchildren and adults of lesser magic or no magic at all began climbing to their feet, dusting themselves, and stretching a bit after sitting for so long on the cold stone floor.

  “One more thing!” Miz Jillian held up a hand. “Will the Badgerton triplets please see me at the front as you exit the building?”

  She did not explain why, but Prue, Charlie, and Welton looked at each other, aghast.

  A few knowing glances were cast their way, but most people around them were too excited about getting out of this creepy cellar to bother with them.

  Prue’s pulse raced. We have to get out of here.

  It was just as she had feared. The three of them—who had nothing to do with any of this—were doomed to get tangled up in Uncle Boris’s bad deeds. Thankfully, Prue had already made a plan.

  First up: escape.

  Since now nearly everyone was standing, it would be easy for the skunkies to slip out of here in their much smaller animal forms. If they kept to the edges of the basement, no one would even notice them.

  But which way should they go?