Secrets of the Deep (71 page)

Jake was shocked to think of his aunt being beaten in a magical match. Good Lord, what manner of men were they up against?

“Er, on a brighter note,” Henry spoke up, sounding worried that they were all spiraling into despair, “Sir Peter got his sight back within a few hours.”

“But don’t forget what happened to Aleeyah,” Derek reminded him grimly.

“The djinni didn’t make it?” Dani exclaimed.

“Well, she’s not dead, but I’m afraid she may be beyond our help,” Henry admitted. “Lord Wyvern is a very powerful sorcerer, and he cast a spell of some sort that trapped Aleeyah in her smoke form when she was in the middle of transporting herself from one place to another—with that ability peculiar to her people. The Order is working on a way to bring her back to her normal self, but…it is a delicate operation, I’m told.”

Jake and Maddox glanced at each other for a second. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” Maddox announced, turning to the adults. “I have to go and find my mother.”

“I’m coming with you,” Jake said firmly. “They have Red.”

“Then we’ll help, too,” Archie declared.

“Don’t be absurd!” Derek said sharply to all three boys, stalking over to the edge of the palm garden at last. “
I
was lucky to make it out of there alive. You think
you
three can do better?”

“Sir, with all due respect,” Maddox said, “either the Elders put me on whatever team they’re sending to track the castle, or I’ll track it myself.”

“Oh? And how will you do that?” Derek retorted.

“I’ll help him,” Nixie said, stepping over to stand by Maddox. “I’ll scry for it.”

“Oho, and you think they won’t detect you?” Aunt Ramona chided. “They detected me.”

“Well, we can’t stay
here
anymore!” Jake said, then glanced around at everyone. “I’ve already been attacked in Taormina.”

“What?” Aunt Ramona cried.

“I didn’t want to tell you.”

“When?”

“Just the night before last. Luckily, Janos showed up. He saved my life,” he told the adults, wishing they all would forgive the poor fellow. “Apparently, his Guardian instincts are still in fine working order. The point is, things have grown much too serious to remain on this so-called holiday, and, blast it, I won’t hide here like a coward when my Gryphon’s in a cage! We’re going back to England,” Jake said, unwilling to take no for an answer.

Aunt Ramona hesitated, shaking her head at him in disapproval for concealing the Nightstalker attack from her.

“Er, Your Ladyship?” Dani said. “Would you be interested in a trade?”

The baroness furrowed her brow. “Whatever do you mean, child?”

Dani glanced at Jake, who caught the meaning in her pointed stare, and, distraught as he was, he nearly smiled at her clever insinuation. But her notion, if he read her right, was too cheeky for her to carry out, so when she nodded at him, he took over from there.

“What she means,” Jake said, “is that if you promise to take us home, we’ll tell you what we know about those Atlantean artifacts.”

“I beg your pardon?” Miss Helena said.

All the adults were stunned.

Derek frowned, reading him, trying to call his bluff. “You don’t know anything about such things.”

“Oh yes, we do. In fact, we know the location of an island where there’s a whole hoard of them hidden away. Most of them are, er, broken,” he added. “But if you’ll promise to take us home, we’ll tell you where the island is, and then the Order can go and get them.”

Aunt Ramona and Derek exchanged a wry glance. Henry knitted his brow, while Miss Helena folded her arms across her chest and gave the children a feline stare of displeasure.

“Please agree!” Archie begged them. “Personally, it’s been killing me keeping all this from you. It’s been hard on Isabelle, too. But Jake made us.”

“I’m sure,” the Elder witch said wryly. “But how do I know this isn’t one of Jake’s tall tales, hmm? A cave full of Atlantean artifacts. It’s quite a claim.”

“R-remember that friend of ours? Sapphira?” Archie asked eagerly. “She was a mermaid! She’s the one who saw someone’s servitors hauling the objects right out of the Calypso Deep!”

“Archie!” Jake scolded.
Don’t give it all away without a bargain!

“Sorry,” he whispered. “Well, you know I hate lying!”

“We do have quite a bit to tell you,” Nixie admitted in a delicate tone.

The adults all looked at each other; Jake did not understand why nobody was yelling at them.

Then Aunt Ramona spoke. “We actually discussed returning to England while you were still out on the water. We agreed it is probably for the best, in light of recent developments. We shall increase security around both Griffon Castle and Bradford Park. But Jacob, if your real goal in concocting this tale of Atlantean artifacts is born of some misguided desire to try and rescue Red yourself—and this goes for you, as well, Maddox—you boys can have no part in this. It’s much too dangerous. Especially for you, Jake. You know they want your blood.”

“Her Ladyship is quite right,” Henry said firmly. “If we take you home, the task for each of you will be to continue to focus on your training and your studies.”

Derek nodded. “We need all of you to become stronger than ever for what lies ahead.”

“There’s going to be a war, isn’t there?” Isabelle said softly.

“It’s already started,” Nixie murmured.

“I knew it months ago,” Maddox growled. “I could feel it in my blood.”

Derek nodded in grim admission of this fact, then looked around at them. “I won’t leave you again, children. Her Ladyship has asked me to head up your security at the castle, and I’ve agreed. I’m a little worse for wear, I admit. But whatever happens next”—he glanced around at them slowly—“we will all face it together.”

“As a family,” Aunt Ramona agreed.

The words of King Nereus floated through Jake’s mind as everyone fell silent for a moment.

“So when can we leave?” he asked at length.

“In a day or two,” the Elder witch replied.

“Good,” Jake said in a hard tone. Stricken as he was with the news of his beloved Gryphon’s capture, at least now he’d be there, waiting, if Red somehow managed to escape with Ravyn and flew home.

Returning to England would also put him closer to the Order’s headquarters, so he’d find out faster what was going on. He welcomed the comforting thought of the green and peaceful English countryside.

But first, he had an appointment to keep in the North Sea.

Somehow, Jake knew deep in his bones that whatever secrets Fionnula Coralbroom might have to reveal could hold the key to everything…

“So what’s all this about Atlantean artifacts?” Henry inquired, lifting his eyebrows and folding his arms across his chest.

But Helena scowled. “I knew they were up to something.”

Aunt Ramona merely sighed, but Derek glanced around at them with a stern look and growled, “Somebody better start talking.”

# # #

“Well, you have certainly made a muck of things,” Zolond said to Wyvern in disgust.

The leader of the Dark Druid Council sat in the highest chair, at the center of the long row of thirteen cloaked, hooded figures.

Wyvern stood before them, his jaw clenched, his shoulders squared, his six-fingered hands clasped politely behind his back.

“Shall we review the list of your failures?” Zolond hissed. “You let the angel escape. You let the artifact be stolen. You allowed our location to be discovered, and the Guardian got away. You let two of our demons be slain. Slain! How am I going to explain that to Shemrazul? But worst of all, simply because of your blasted Nephilim pride, you dared—without my permission—to flaunt our
secret
project in the Order’s faces.”

Wyvern’s cool smile soured, but he managed to keep his tone smooth. “Your Excellency, you needn’t worry that I showed them the creature. The good are trusting! They cannot help it. They do not think like we do. Naïve as they are, they’ll assume that your new creation is the only one of its kind.”

“Perhaps,” Zolond conceded. “But if they discover the rest of the locust eggs incubating in those sands, I will personally cut your heart out and feed it to the Horned One. Understood?”

Wyvern flinched at the threat but lifted his head. It didn’t seem worth pointing out that at least the Order had not discovered the warlocks’
most
important project, downstairs.

Still, his large sense of self would not allow him to stay silent. “It is true, Your Darkness, that the two prisoners escaped, and that is regrettable. But as for the artifact, we still have the Atlantean cuff, which is equally powerful. And do not forget, sir, I got you the Gryphon. That means we shall soon have the boy from the prophecy.”

“Might or might not,” Zolond replied. “You forget who is protecting him.”

“Ramona Bradford, among others,” Wyvern answered.

“Exactly,” said Zolond.

“No matter. He is reckless, impulsive, overconfident. He will come here of his own accord to rescue his poor feathered friend. We could even make it easy for him. He’ll have no idea he’s walking right into a trap.”

“We’ll see. Now go clean up your mess,” Zolond added with a menacing glare, his eyes flashing red from the shadows of his hood.

Wyvern bristled, but knew better than to challenge the current head of the brotherhood. Oh, a day would come when he would have to defeat Zolond himself, if he wished to take his place.

And he would.

It was well past time for a change of regime. Zolond had ruled the Dark Druids with an iron fist for nearly three centuries.

But there were those who were tiring of his rule, Wyvern chief among them. Zolond was too timid, too careful, too restrained. Things would be different when Wyvern took control of the organization.

For now, though, he bowed. “As Your Darkness wishes.”

“And make sure the Gryphon is secured.”

Wyvern stifled a growl at his condescending tone. Now that sort of advice was just insulting, he thought, gritting his double rows of teeth. But he said nothing, going politely to the door and then letting himself out of the star chamber.

In the black granite corridor, he shook off his continuous state of underlying rage and went on about his business.
Clean up my mess? You’re the one who didn’t lift a finger to aid in the battle last night.

Marching down the hallway and pivoting around the corner, he glanced in on the Gryphon, locked in the same cell the much-battered Guardian had occupied until recently.

Of course, this prisoner was much more valuable than a mere Order warrior, and would accordingly receive better treatment, so long as he behaved.

Wyvern’s pet manticore sat outside the Gryphon’s cell, guarding the beast and eyeing it rather hungrily. Poor, noble Crafanc-y-Gwrool was pacing back and forth like the caged half-lion he was, but was not chained.

They had no wish to harm the animal. No indeed—a healthy specimen would serve their scientific purposes much better.

Zolond was eager to see what manner of new beasts he might be able to create using small samples of the Gryphon’s blood.

Since their new guest was secure in his cage, Wyvern hissed to his manticore to follow. “Come, Thanatos.”

The manticore padded after him, leaving the Gryphon with a parting snarl. It shadowed Wyvern as the earl went down the set of black granite steps across the hallway.

When he had passed, a head peeked slowly out of the shadows.

Ravyn Vambrace had been pressed against the wall. Now she inched away from it, watching where the earl went, but when she slipped around the corner, she saw the Gryphon raging in his cage.

“Psst!”

Red whirled around and spotted her. Ravyn lifted her finger over her lips, signaling the animal to hush.

The Gryphon flicked his wings upward, battle ready, his golden eyes glowing with wrath. The kingly beast was understandably outraged at being thrown into a cell. But all he was going to do was exhaust himself at this rate.

Her reassuring nod urged Red to save his strength for when they escaped. Because, she vowed, they were both getting out of here–somehow.

Of course, she had no idea yet where
here
was, what new location they had jumped to. Hopefully not another flaming crater.

Ravyn still wasn’t sure what had possessed her to hide inside the Black Fortress rather than run when she’d heard the signals begin pulsating between its four forbidding towers, warning that the building was getting ready to transport itself elsewhere.

It had been a split-second decision. But she was confident that somehow or other, she would get out of here.

Then she’d be able to tell the Order where the fortress had relocated to. In the meantime, while she was here, she intended to spy and find out as much as she could about what the warlocks were scheming.

But one thing was certain. When it was time to go, she’d be taking that Gryphon with her. She wasn’t quite sure yet how she’d get him out of the same blasted cage she had just rescued Derek from.

Red and she would have to rely on each other if they were going to get out of this alive. She could free him, and he’d provide the transportation.

For now, she left him where he was with a reassuring gesture to let him know she’d be back and to keep quiet. Stealing across the hallway, she pressed herself against the wall again, knife in hand, and followed Wyvern down into the bowels of the Black Fortress.

Quickly gliding down the steps, she hung back as the stairwell turned, leading deeper into a cavelike basement or cellar beneath the castle.

She was just in time to see the tall, unsavory earl arrive at a pair of black, shiny double doors.

Two Noxu warriors were posted outside them, standing with their long-handled axes crossed to bar the way. They straightened their weapons upright as Wyvern approached, however, and stepped aside.