The Dragon Lord

by E. G. Foley

  “Ah,” said Archie, and looked at Jake.

  Jake gave his cousin a wince that said he only wished it were that simple.

  For his part, he had a rather strong feeling that he knew exactly what was coming through the rupture. He hoped he was wrong, but in the next moment, his worst fears proved all too true.

  The Black Fortress suddenly slammed into view in the middle of Parliament Square, smashing trees, crushing lampposts, arcs of lightning still flickering on its spiky black towers.

  And there it sat, dead center of the wide, sprawling green.

  The stronghold of the Dark Druids, looming in broad daylight, right in the heart of London.

  The lightning winked out, the deafening pulsations stopped, and, for a moment, there was utter, stunned silence.

  Flanagan was motionless, as if he barely dared breathe. “Mother Mary. What witchery is this?” he whispered, then blessed himself.

  Jake stared grimly at the warlocks’ traveling castle. “I’d say it’s an invasion.”

  Then a wave of screams erupted on all sides as hysteria broke out, fanning down the streets in all directions.

  “This isn’t possible,” Flanagan whispered. “I’m havin’ a dream.”

  “More like a nightmare,” Jake mumbled. “It’s real, sir. Trust me. It’s real.”

  Then the massive drawbridge banged down.

  “Oh, this is bad, Jake. Very bad!” Archie squeaked, his stare glued to the castle.

  Jake nodded, doing his best to keep his dread in check. “I’d say Zolond’s arrived. He’s late.”

  The boys had never seen the Dark Master; they didn’t know what he looked like, only that he was an old man.

  Well, Aunt Ramona had entered the Clock Tower about twenty minutes ago, but no old man had gone in—nor had anybody else.

  “Talk about making an entrance,” Archie said in a steadier tone.

  But if people were shocked by what they’d seen so far, that was nothing, for in the next moment, out came the detestable Lord Wyvern.

  Riding a dragon.

  The boys’ jaws dropped. They exchanged a stunned glance. Flanagan rubbed his eyes to make sure they weren’t deceiving him. Then the constable stared around one corner of the statue’s base, while the boys peeked around the other, several feet away.

  The orange-red dragon prowled down the open drawbridge of the Black Fortress, the afternoon sunlight glimmering on its scales. It carried its head high, sporting small, backward-facing horns; it stood about nine feet tall. But as the body went on and on, slowly emerging from the castle, a few seconds passed before Jake could determine its full length of some twenty feet, snout to tail.

  Its front legs were slightly shorter than its powerful hind ones, but all four were tipped with vicious claws. Wings folded against its sides, it did not seem to mind its leather tack.

  Wyvern sat proudly in the saddle, controlling the beast by reins that ran through a loop on the cuff-like metal collar around the dragon’s throat. He swayed back and forth with the creature’s leisurely walk.

  Crowds of people had begun to gather at safe distances around the edges of the square and in the surrounding streets to see what was happening. The entire mass of humanity now gawped at the pair in dumbfounded silence.

  In the hush, Jake could hear the snarling breaths that escaped the dragon with every exhalation.

  Wyvern rode sedately toward the middle of the green, his mount sinking a trail of three-toed footprints deep into the turf.

  The dragon swung its head from side to side, sniffing the crowd with a hungry gleam in its eyes.

  It must’ve looked at some lady wrong, for at that moment, somewhere in the crowd, a woman started screaming.

  “Silence!” Wyvern thundered.

  The dragon lord pulled out his wand and hurled a bolt of magic at her at once, freezing her before the hysteria could spread.

  “Remain calm, ladies and gentlemen!” he bellowed. “Do not interfere, and you will not be harmed.”

  The dragon snorted and tossed its head angrily, hissing at the crowd. It flicked its forked tongue and whipped its tail threateningly from side to side.

  “Easy, Tazaroc! Whoa.” Wyvern pulled the beast to a halt near the center of the square.

  Archie shook his head dazedly. “I don’t think there’s an oubliette spell strong enough to make all these people forget this.”

  Jake nodded but wasn’t sure it even mattered anymore, if the Veil concealing the magical world from the human one had been torn. He assumed Zolond was responsible, but why would the old warlock do such a thing?

  There was still no sign of the Dark Master himself, in any case. Jake concluded that Zolond must be sending his henchmen out first to put down any resistance.

  And his henchwomen.

  For who should come strutting down the drawbridge next but Fionnula Coralbroom arrayed in her latest fluffy dress, one hand on her hip, the other clutching her wand?

  Jake couldn’t help but sneer slightly at the sight of his would-be mother.

  Bizarre as it was, knowing that Wyvern wanted to adopt him as his son and heir, the prospect of having Fionnula Coralbroom as his stand-in mother was even more revolting, but that was what the demon-spawn earl had in mind. Wyvern had flat-out told Jake so the day the couple had tried to abduct him.

  Strangest family ever.

  Jake shook his head in disgust as the siren-born sea-witch came marching down the drawbridge in her high-heeled shoes.

  He glanced around at the onlookers and wryly wondered if any of Fionnula’s fans from her opera days as Uncle Waldrick’s ladybird would recognize her.

  Humph! They should see her in her Kraken form.

  A giant squid with lipstick.

  The former diva used to rule the London stage, enchanting audiences with her singing—literally. Little did her admirers know they were being put under spells. Well, maybe now the truth about Fionnula would finally come out.

  Unfortunately, London had bigger problems than the sea-witch, for next came General Archeron Raige.

  Jake tensed, recalling how the big, musclebound soldier had slain poor Balinor, the Order’s head wizard. Warriors were supposed to show honor—Guardians did—but that brute had murdered an old man by throwing a knife into his back.

  Raige carried an arsenal of weapons on him: knives, pistols, a bandolier across his chest lined with large bullets and odd-shaped grenades. Walking down the platform with a cigar dangling out of his mouth, he held a strange long gun in his grasp that looked like something Archie could’ve invented.

  It had the flared muzzle of a blunderbuss, and an array of complicated brass attachments whose purpose Jake could not guess. He scanned the square constantly as he followed Fionnula, as though waiting for anyone or anything to make one false move.

  Wyvern’s disgusting pet manticore followed Raige out. It was a nasty creature—a kingly lion with a scorpion’s stinger for a tail.

  Archie frowned at Jake. “I thought Maddox killed that monster last night.”

  Jake shrugged. “Wyvern must’ve healed it.”

  Nearby, Constable Flanagan let out a low oath at the sight of the manticore. No doubt convinced he was having a bad dream, he paid the boys little mind.

  All three focused intensely on the square as a second Dark Druid villainess emerged from the castle, gliding down the drawbridge with preternatural grace.

  Jake didn’t recognize her, but despite the eccentric dark goggles she was wearing, he could tell she was quite beautiful, with jet-black hair and milk-white skin.

  Instead of a gown, the woman wore a long black coat with a high-standing collar. The coat was open, revealing her masculine-style riding garb beneath—a loose black shirt, black riding breeches, and tall black knee boots like a pirate.

  She had no wand, and the only weapon she carried was a big, nasty knife on her hip. Her lack of a wand made Jake wonder uneasily what her power was. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out, for she carried herse
lf with the confidence of a seasoned destroyer.

  Archie nudged him. “I’m pretty sure that’s the Red Queen,” he whispered.

  Jake glanced at his cousin in surprise. “She’s a vampire?”

  “She’s the vampire,” Archie murmured. “I think she even made Janos. Her name is Viola Sangrey. She started out as a Hungarian countess centuries ago, from what I’ve heard.”

  “Huh.” Jake looked at Viola again. “How is she out in the daytime?”

  Archie shrugged. “Who knows? Dark magic? Maybe the rules other vampires have to follow don’t apply to her.”

  Jake nodded. Then both boys growled as none other than the traitor himself emerged from the warlocks’ castle: Boris, Lord Badgerton—disgraced Elder of the Order.

  The portly shapeshifter, with his double chins and bushy sideburns, looked nervous as he ventured down the drawbridge, and he should be.

  Jake wondered if the skunkies knew about their traitorous uncle.

  Finally, an eerie-looking trio came out, dressed all in black.

  Tall and slim, with graceful movements, the three men had long, pale hair and complexions whiter than the vampire queen’s. But the borders of their long, narrow faces were adorned with serpentine swirls or dotted designs that might’ve been tattoos or warpaint.

  As they walked out three abreast, the two on the ends seemed like warriors; they wore a sort of supple, close-fitting armor of black leather. The one in the middle, by contrast, was draped in flowing velvet robes. Arcane symbols in silver thread were embroidered around the hem and sleeves of his priestly garb.

  The two warriors—bodyguards?—were watching out for him as he felt his way down the drawbridge, tapping ahead of each step with the tall, richly carved staff he was carrying.

  When Jake saw his milk-white eyes, he realized the man was blind.

  Chills instantly skittered down his body as he realized this must be Duradel, the infamous Drow seer who had given the Dark Druids that prophecy about Jake.

  Duradel was the one who had claimed that Jake would either become the greatest leader the Dark Druids would ever have or destroy them for once and for all. That was the whole reason Wyvern was so desperate to get control of him.

  Archie gave him a sober look but said nothing.

  Stomach churning at this reminder of the prophecy, Jake tried not to let the sight of Shemrazul’s high priest unnerve him. Instead, he focused his attention on the fact that he’d never seen one of the Drowfolk before.

  They certainly bore a strong resemblance to their cousins, the wood elves, like Finnderool, but the Drow were the dark fey. The two branches of elves had split long, long ago. Unlike their forest-dwelling cousins, the Drow lived in underground caverns with the spiders and bats—and usually went bad.

  Archie shuddered. “He’s a creepy one, in’nt he? By Jove, I don’t fancy the thought of having anything in common with that weirdo.”

  “Well, coz, you might see the future, but at least you’re not evil,” Jake said quietly.

  The moment he spoke, Duradel suddenly turned and looked straight at the Robert Peel statue, as if he’d heard his whisper.

  Unnerved, Jake shrank back behind the granite block. It was then that he noticed Constable Flanagan making hand gestures across the square to his fellow policemen guarding the Parliament buildings. When Jake peeked out again around the boys’ side of the plinth, he saw the other bobbies gesturing back, as though planning to interfere.

  Which would be a terrible idea.

  Jake doubted a whole regiment of Guardians would have much luck going up against this many Dark Druids at once.

  Absently, he remembered that Derek had arrived at Buckingham Palace. No doubt the warrior was already on his way, along with any other Guardian who might’ve found himself in London at the moment, drawn by their protective instincts.

  But brave as they were, what could the Order’s fighters really do against this lot, with all their dark magic?

  Besides, as far as Jake knew, there were probably a hundred Noxu barbarians waiting inside the Black Fortress for Wyvern’s call—the same shock troops who’d overrun Merlin Hall last night. He shuddered to ponder the sort of mayhem that scores of wild half-trolls could wreak on the unsuspecting city…

  Then Wyvern addressed the crowds of cowering civilians.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” he boomed in a deep, cold voice full of authority. “A new day has come. The world as you know it is about to change. As promised, you will not be harmed as long as you stay out of our way. All will be explained in the near future. For now, stay back…and enjoy the show.”

  With Zolond’s top henchmen arrayed across Parliament Square (except for Badgerton and the three Drow, who remained on the drawbridge), Jake fully expected that Wyvern would now present the Dark Master to the world.

  But that was not at all what happened.

  CHAPTER 30

  Insurrection

  Derek Stone was fast.

  Dani, Nixie, Isabelle, and Brian could hardly keep up as the towering Guardian shoved through the terrified crowds flowing by in the opposite direction.

  Dani did her best to keep the big, rugged Guardian in sight as she ran, her gaze glued to his dark hair and the brown jacket hugging his clifflike shoulders.

  The streets of London were in chaos, even in this stately part of Town. Ordinary folk careened down Birdcage Walk, so scared that they didn’t even notice Miss Helena galloping behind the warrior in leopard form.

  Derek had ordered the kids to stay behind at Buckingham Palace, but there was no chance of them doing that if Jake and Archie—or Lady Bradford—were in danger. Of course, their first attempt to follow Derek had earned them a glimpse of his full Guardian wrath. When he’d bellowed at them to stay behind, Teddy had run under the couch with a whine. Dani had nearly done the same.

  The master Guardian had then stalked out to the hallway and yelled for a few palace guards to keep them detained, then he was out the door—racing toward the danger, of course. Miss Helena had transformed into her elegant black leopard and followed her fiancé.

  Brian and the girls, meanwhile, found themselves locked in the same fancy drawing room as before. Even the earnest Yank agreed they had to break out.

  Dani was beside herself, knowing down to the marrow of her bones that she’d find Jake at the center of the tumult. Isabelle and Nixie were likewise desperate over Archie. And everyone was anxious for the Elder witch.

  Their minds made up, the kids wasted no time escaping their gilded prison.

  While Nixie got ready to use a spell, Brian went to the window and used his keen Guardian eyesight to find Derek and Helena outside so they’d know which way to go once they broke out. Dani had ordered Teddy to stay in the palace, where he’d be safe, while Izzy brought everyone their outdoor coats.

  Resolved, they were ready in moments.

  Then Nixie zinged the lock on the door with her wand—and zapped the two Foot Guards who tried to get in their way.

  She’d knocked the big soldiers over like bowling pins, and they’d quickly escaped.

  The next thing Dani knew, she was running up Birdcage Walk, keeping her eyes on Derek Stone, who stood head and shoulders above most in the throng.

  The whole road was clogged with people fleeing in the opposite direction. The carriages that had been passing through had come to a standstill, their drivers barely managing to keep their horses calm in the mayhem.

  “Don’t go that way, children!” a lady in a feathered hat shouted frantically as she tore past, but she didn’t say why.

  The kids exchanged worried glances, but pressed on.

  At Dani’s height, it was difficult to see what was happening in the crush.

  Isabelle was the tallest of the kids, and even she was only to the shoulders of most of the fleeing adults. Poor Nixie—Brian had to grab the petite witch by the wrist to keep her from getting trampled altogether.

  Suddenly, Dani heard a mighty eagle’s screech somewhere ov
erhead and behind them. Struggling to keep moving forward, she glanced over her shoulder and spotted Red in the distance.

  She halted her friends and pointed. “Look!”

  Rocketing toward Buckingham Palace, the Gryphon was fully visible above the treetops lining the broad avenue of the Mall.

  The kids stared with astonishment—and they weren’t the only ones who saw him.

  Half of London did.

  To be sure, the sight of a lion-bodied, eagle-headed beast who looked like he’d just leaped out of some knightly coat of arms would tend to get people’s attention.

  The already panicked citizens and tourists shrieked, pointed, and stared as the Gryphon winged his way by.

  “What’s he doing, showing himself in public like that?” Dani cried.

  Wide-eyed, Izzy stood panting. “He’s searching for Jake.”

  “Red!” Dani yelled, waving her arms, but she was too far away, and her shout was swallowed up in the mayhem.

  The Gryphon circled Buckingham Palace a few times, then dipped out of sight.

  “Where’d he go?” Brian asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dani said.

  “Don’t worry, he’ll find us!” Nixie said. “We’ve got to keep moving! Archie and Jake might need us. Let’s go!”

  The others nodded, then they continued pressing forward. But all of them were grim-faced, knowing they were probably heading straight to the spot that everybody else was running away from.

  * * *

  Jake and Archie, meanwhile, were still crouched down behind the statue with Constable Flanagan, waiting to get their first glimpse of the infamous Dark Master.

  But instead of introducing him, Wyvern threw back his head and shouted so loudly that they could almost see his double rows of teeth.

  “Zoloooond!” the Nephilim bellowed. “I challenge you! Come down here and fight me!”

  “Fight me?” Archie echoed.