by Kevin Sands
“That’s strange,” Shuna said. “My sister never leaves her home. Where has she gone?”
Then the Fox spied the big paw prints of the Bear in the grass. She followed them, winding between the trees, until they reached the banks of the Dragonblood River. The tracks stopped there, but now the Fox was most worried, for she knew the place to which this river led.
She hurried up the stream, through the baking desert, into the snowy mountains, until she reached the Cave of Secrets. Shuna’s heart sank as her sister emerged from the cave, for the rumbling earth could only have been caused by one thing. Artha had broken the Worldstone and freed the Eye of Creation!
“What have you done?” the Fox cried.
“What it is my right to do,” the Bear rumbled.
“We bound the Eye for a reason.”
“But look, sister.” The Bear gazed down from the mountain. “Look at the beauty of our world. The lush forests you love so much. The rolling hills. The verdant plains of grass. All this exists because of the Eye. It gave birth to Ayreth. Imagine what it could do if we harnessed its strength once again?”
And the Fox became sad, for she knew the Eye of Creation had whispered its way into her sister’s heart. “The stone lies to you, Artha. It wishes to create no more. It only wishes to take back what it has given!”
“You are just jealous,” the Bear said, “because I am to be the handmaiden of the world. Go back to your forest, little sister. Go play with your friends and waste your time away. I will do great things for the both of us.”
The Bear loomed over Shuna. But the little Fox stood her ground. “Return the Eye, I beg you. Return it, and we will seal it up again, together, as sisters should.”
But the Bear could not hear her, because the Eye whispered in her ear.
“Shuna will take me,” the Eye said to Artha. “If you give me up, the Fox will steal me away to create her own world, one without you. And all the people will glorify her name instead of yours.”
The Bear roared then, heart rotted with jealousy, and struck at her sister. The Fox was brave, but no match for the powerful Bear. And so the Bear ran away with the Eye as the Fox lay on the ground, defeated.
The Crow, with his sharp sight, saw the battle from afar. When the Bear was gone, he flew down to the Fox. “You must stop her,” he said. “Put aside your love for your sister and do what must be done to save this world.”
“Can we not still be friends?” the Fox pleaded.
“You know your sister,” the Crow said. “Now go, before the moons are at their brightest, or it will be too late.”
Then Shuna was terribly sad, because the Crow’s eyes were so sharp, they could see into the future. And so she knew, if she succeeded, Artha would never forgive her.
It was with a heavy heart that the Fox followed her sister into the fire mountain. There were no tracks here, but the Fox’s clever nose caught her sister’s scent and followed her down. Down, down, down she went, and soon the Fox understood where she was going, for there was only one place this far below: the Dragon Temple, deep in the heart of the fire mountain.
The Fox found her sister in the temple, standing behind the altar. The Bear had already broken through the ground. Magic gushed from the earth like water. The Fox knew that the Eye could shape that power, and she realized what the Bear planned to do.
Artha would use the Eye to fill her own body with magic, and then nothing could stand against her. If her sister placed the Eye within the stream, all would be lost!
The Fox almost cried out, one last time, to beg the Bear. But the Crow’s words echoed in her heart. You know your sister, he’d said, and Shuna knew she could not turn Artha away from her path. Nor could she fight; the Bear was too strong. So, while the Bear’s back was turned, the Fox slunk up to the altar and stole the Eye.
When the Bear found the stone was gone, she roared in rage. She vowed revenge against her sister, but revenge would have to wait. For, with nothing left to seal it, the break in the earth tore apart, and the Bear was badly burned. Artha ran away, crying in agony, to rest, to slumber, and thence to heal.
The Fox cried, too, at hearing her sister’s pain. But she did not go to Artha, for she knew she was no longer welcome. Instead, she used the Eye of Creation to seal the tear in the earth, before the crack in the ground shook the world apart. Then, with heavy heart, she returned to the forest and bound the Eye with her magic in a deep cavern nearby a lake, so the Bear could never steal it again.
* * *
Gareth turned the page. “That’s where the story ends.”
That was enough. My mind was racing.
And I finally knew what to do.
CHAPTER 54
The others were not happy to see us.
“You idiots,” Meriel shouted.
“You’re rotten,” Lachlan complained.
Foxtail gestured.
“What was going through your tiny minds?” Meriel said.
“I thought we were friends,” Lachlan said.
Foxtail gestured.
“There are a million Stickmen out there, to say nothing of Pistoleers. You should know better, Gareth, and you lost an eye, you lizard—” Meriel said.
“I always get left behind, no one ever includes me, it’s not my fault I’m small—” Lachlan said.
Foxtail gestured. The last one looked awfully rude.
“All right. All right.” I held my hands up. “Don’t blame Gareth. I told him I’d remembered something about a story the Old Man had once read to me, and he went to get it. He didn’t even know I’d followed him until he got to the library.”
“What a load of—”
“He still could have taken me—”
Foxtail gestured.
I sighed. Once everyone knew you were a gaffer, no one believed your lies. “Fine. I’m sorry. Now, if you’re finished, can we tell you what we found?”
Gareth read them the story. Their tempers evaporated as they listened. When it was over, everyone looked stunned.
“That’s . . .” Meriel couldn’t find the words. “It’s a coincidence. Isn’t it?”
“Too much of one,” I said. “In the story, the Eye can talk; we know that’s true. Where did I find it? In a deep cavern nearby a lake, bound by magic—right where Shuna left it. Everything else fits, too. The fire mountain: That’s got to be a volcano, right? Well, Bolcanathair’s three miles to the north. Even the bit about the moons being at their brightest. When does that happen? Full moons. And both moons will be full right before the syzygy tomorrow night. It even explains Mr. Solomon’s deadline.
“Most importantly,” I continued, “it tells us what Mr. Solomon’s planning to do. The Eye is a focus; it’s used to imbue objects with magic. Mr. Solomon is going to use it to imbue himself. He’ll become a living enchantment. His power could be nearly unlimited.”
“But . . . this is a Fox and Bear story,” Meriel said. “They’re morality tales based on the lives of the Spirits. The stories didn’t actually happen.” She looked confused. “Did they?”
I looked to Gareth. “Sometimes,” he said cautiously, “stories are created around events that really happened. Children’s tales are especially good places to hide a truth. Everyone reads them, but no one ever believes they’re r-real.”
“Either way,” I said, “this story is the only lead we have. Might as well follow it, right?”
The others agreed to that. “In that case,” I said, “if Mr. Solomon’s playing the role of the Bear, then we need to be the Fox. We need to steal back the Eye.”
“Love to,” Meriel said. “Except we still don’t know where Mr. Solomon’s gone.”
“Sure we do. In the story, the Bear went into the volcano, to a Dragon Temple.”
“Great. Oh, wait—one problem. I’ve never heard of a Dragon Temple. Have you?”
“
Er . . . no.”
“Anyone?”
Everyone looked blank. “Maybe Gareth can find something,” I said. “At the very least, we know it’s in Bolcanathair.”
“Yes,” Meriel said, “except Bolcanathair is really, really big. How do you expect to find Mr. Solomon inside it?”
“One problem at a time, all right? Let Gareth go back to the library and see what he comes up with. In the meantime, we’ll need a plan to actually steal the Eye.”
“Fox just waited until Bear’s back was turned,” Lachlan said.
“Yeah . . . I don’t think we should count on that. Maybe something a little more sophisticated?”
“Like what?”
“Well, like I said earlier: Mr. Solomon is arrogant. We can use that against him. And I think I might know just how.”
CHAPTER 55
Gareth returned to the library to see what they had on Dragon Temples. As for the rest of us, we’d need some tools from Lachlan’s old contacts to help us snatch the Eye.
Neither Foxtail nor Meriel wanted to come—which made me suspicious the two of them were up to something—so Lachlan and I headed out alone, dodging Stickman patrols. The boy engaged Galawan in a whistling duel as we took an omnibus to one of the Breakers’ old fences.
His secret shop was run out of the back of an ironworks. The fence, a man named Phelan, was a bookish sort of fellow, with a tight collar and thin, silver spectacles. Lachlan introduced me as an out-of-town Breaker. Phelan welcomed me with a smooth manner and an easy smile, and I didn’t trust him for a second.
I handed him the list of things we’d need. As he read it, he kept glancing over at Galawan, who was perched on the boy’s finger, tweeting at him.
“Pickax . . . wineskins . . . rope . . . lanterns . . . grappling hooks.” He peered down his spectacles at me. “These for delving through caves, or are you cracking a vault?”
“Caves,” I said. “You have the tools?”
“No problem.” Phelan placed the list on his counter and picked up the sketch I’d made of the last item needed. “This is more interesting. What’s it supposed to be?”
“None of your business.”
He smiled thinly and studied the sketch a bit more, reading the instructions underneath. After a moment, he said, “I have a man who can make this. Say . . . two weeks?”
“Say tomorrow afternoon.”
“Ah. Ha. No.” He shook his head sadly. “My man needs time for this sort of thing.”
What he really meant was his man needed money. Assuming there even was a man; it was just as possible Phelan would craft it himself.
“It’s a very simple thing,” I said. “Your man”—may as well play along—“could make it tonight. So let’s skip the preamble and get to the deal. What do you want for it?”
The fence nodded toward Lachlan. “The enchanted bird.”
Lachlan gasped. “No!” He clutched Galawan to his chest. The sparrow tweeted a note of alarm. “Cal, no!”
I could hardly break the boy’s heart. “We were thinking something more traditional? As in, money?”
“You wouldn’t have enough,” Phelan said.
“What’s the least it would take?”
“Twelve thousand crowns for the lot. Paid up front.”
Lachlan was outraged. “Twelve thousand? You crook!”
Phelan shrugged. “You need a thing, and you need it now. I have other contracts I must fulfill. Don’t take it personally.”
I put a hand on Lachlan’s arm. “Twelve thousand,” I said, “and you’ll make exactly what we need?”
I watched him closely as he answered. “Yes.”
“And it’ll be ready by noon tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
It was only the briefest change. When I said noon, his blink rate went up a bit. Which meant it was likely he was lying.
He’d fulfill our order, yes, but it wouldn’t be ready by noon. When we came for it, he’d give us some excuse as to why he couldn’t get it done, and then he’d ask for more. A lot more. And what could we do about it? Tell the Stickmen we’d been cheated? He had us over a barrel.
Well, like the Old Man always said, There’s no point in them cheating you when honesty’ll pay them better.
“Here’s the deal I’m offering,” I said. “I’ll pay you this up front.”
I pulled five hundred-crown notes from the pouch Mr. Solomon had given us and placed them on the counter.
Phelan scoffed. “You must be joking.”
“I’m not finished. Like I said, you can have that up front. Then, when we return tomorrow at noon, if everything’s ready like we asked, I’ll give you this.”
I dumped the rest of the pouch on the counter. It made an awfully big pile.
Phelan stared at it. His pupils went wide, an uncontrollable sign he liked what he saw.
“How much is that?” he said, startled. “Twenty thousand?”
“More like twenty-five,” I said.
The fence stared at me. Then the smile returned. “It seems, Lachlan,” he said, “you’ve laid in with a much better class of friends.”
* * *
* * *
Lachlan and I returned to the hotel. Still worn out from my injuries, I flopped onto the couch, facedown. Foxtail spread her hands, a question. Success?
“You bet, luv,” Lachlan said, whistling happily with Galawan. “Cal was great.”
“Right,” I muttered into the cushions. “All hail the conquering hero.”
Something soft pinged off the back of my skull. “There’s your reward, hero,” Meriel said.
I pushed myself up. “Are you seriously throwing things at my head? It’s not like I have a spare eye anymore.”
I dug between the cushions to see what she’d hit me with. It was an oval of emerald green cloth, connected on either side to a loop. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at.
It was an eyepatch.
I sat up. “Where did you get this?”
Meriel folded her arms, blushing. Foxtail, standing beside her, moved her hands in a sewing motion. We made it.
I didn’t know what to say. I turned it over. On the front of the eyepatch was a dragon, dyed a deeper green. “Wait . . . was this material taken from your dress?”
Meriel shrugged. “I used it on two jobs. Probably shouldn’t wear it anymore.”
Foxtail motioned for me to put it on. I removed the bandage from my face and slipped the loop around my head. The patch fit comfortably. I looked into the mirror, and it was strange how wearing the thing made me feel close to human again.
“Looking good, guv,” Lachlan said.
I was at a loss for words. “Thank you” was all I could come up with.
Meriel shrugged again. “I know how much you liked that dress.” She grinned. “Now you get to wear it, too.”
* * *
That evening, Gareth returned dejected.
“Nothing?” I said.
He shook his head. “It’s the s-same as with the Eye. Anything that might have mentioned Dragon Temples has had pages cut out. I even found this.”
He handed us the book he’d brought back. The title was on the spine: A Complete History of the Dragon Cult.
Meriel opened it. As she flipped through the pages, her expression grew more confused. “They’re all blank.”
Gareth nodded. “Someone tore that cover from the real book and re-bound it to unprinted pages.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“So the library wouldn’t notice the book was missing and acquire a new one.”
The room went quiet. Shuna had told me hiding this kind of information was the handiwork of her sister, Artha. I didn’t quite understand what the Bear’s stake was in this. But it was terrifying to think she was out there, somewhere, w
orking against us.
In the story, Shuna had bound the Eye in the cave so Artha couldn’t steal it again. That would have been thousands of years ago, long before the city of Carlow had even existed. Is that what had attracted the Weavers here? Had some ancient High Weaver claimed a place beside the lake because that’s where he found the Eye? And then the city had built up around it?
It was strange to think of such things. And even stranger to wonder: Where was Artha now? Was she secretly helping Mr. Solomon? Or was she working toward something else?
I couldn’t even imagine facing down the Bear. Fortunately, for the moment, only Mr. Solomon was our quarry. But Artha’s actions had covered his tracks perfectly. There didn’t seem to be any way to follow him.
“Maybe we should think about the Weaver archives again,” Meriel said. “I know it’s a risk, but if they know something . . . ?”
I shook my head. “Mr. Solomon said they were clueless.”
“He could have been lying.”
I doubted it. He’d been genuinely contemptuous of the Weavers. Besides, even if they did have something in their archives, we’d have to break in. And the Enclave would be shielded by wards. We couldn’t possibly get past them in a single night.
“So that’s it, then?” Meriel looked from Gareth to me. “We’re finished?”
Suddenly, Lachlan stiffened. “No,” he said.
He stood, looking shocked. And then he began jumping up and down.
“I know!” he shouted. “I know! I know how we can find him!”
CHAPTER 56
The volcano was smoking.
“That’s not good,” Lachlan said.
It sure wasn’t. A thick cloud ringed the caldera, growing thinner as it trailed down the slope. The air at the base carried only a tint of haze, but the faint stink of brimstone was a constant reminder of the smoke that loomed overhead.