The Legend Thief (15 page)

Errand went silent and stared at the prison where he had spent eleven years of his life.

"''m sorry you were trapped here," Sky said, feeling horrible. ''I'm sorry I didn’t tell Mom and Dad about you. I'd planned to, but each day I didn't made it that much harder. But now you're back! Come with me and let's tell them together."

Errand smiled wryly. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Why not?" asked Sky.

"A lot can happen in a year," said Errand, staring up into the sky. He sniffed the air, frowning. ''I'm not the same per son I was when you found me. I don't need your pity or your family."

"This isn't about pity," said Sky. "It's about hope."

"It's about
vengeance,"
Errand countered.
"Our
vengeance, Sky.
They weren't so different from us, you know."

"Who?"

"Solomon and Alexander," said Errand. "I'm close to some thing, Sky. Very close. Soon we'll have answers ... and more besides. We'll have everything we need to get our revenge."

A light exploded high above and then disappeared. Thunder rolled through the valley.

"We tried to keep you out of all this-you should've left when you had the chance-but you've made a mess of it now," said Errand.

"Who's 'we'?"

Errand grinned. "You'll find out soon enough. Next time pack the barrow weed in tighter. You snort when you sleep. Better yet, try not to sleep at all."

"That should be easy enough," said Sky.

''I'll lead them away," said Errand. "Try to survive the night." "Wait ...
lead
who away?" Sky looked up and saw another light streak across the sky. "What is that?
And what about Morton?
Why tell him about Solomon?"

"Stay away from Morton if you can," Errand replied. "Focus on the blade, Sky. We have to find it. Everything depends on it. It will take Morton time to figure out how to open the prison. But even if he does figure it out, he won't free Solomon until he either has the blade or is certain we won't find it before Bedlam's army arrives. He'll wait as long as he can."

Errand turned and started walking away.

''What if he tries to kill me?"
Sky yelled after him as another light-a fireball- streaked through the night.

"Don't let him!" Errand shouted over his shoulder. Then he raced away, moving inhumanly fast. Sky watched him and then ran in the other direction. He saw lights streaking across the night sky in the direction Errand had disappeared. Whatever those lights were, Errand seemed to be leading them away.

Ahead, he saw Ernaline Livingstone's tomb, still intact, as it had been a year ago, before the east cemetery had sunk into the
ground .
He looked up and saw a ball of fire, like a comet, crashing toward the earth. Within that fiery ball he saw the Darkhorn, her giant wings folded back and burning. A dozen silvery Nightmares trotted at her side. The Nightmares were taller than the Darkhorn, with fiery manes, hooves made of tars, and bodies of moonlight.

Raging fear took hold and Sky shot forward, but not fast enough. The Darkhorn smashed into the earth behind him-a star fallen from heaven-and then it was fire and darkness, rippling earth , falling trees, the sounds of frenzied neighing and clamping hooves.

Something pecked Sky on the nose, and then he plunged through the ground into darkness and terror, the madman in his ear laughing in a perfect imitation of his own voice.

Sky woke up laughing madly.

Something pecked his nose and he felt something slimy enter his nostrils.

"
Ow
! Stop that! Stop that! I'm awake! I'm awake!" Sky covered his face and sat up in bed, sending Fred the Piebald fluttering away. Black blood trickled from Sky's Eye of Legend, touched by a faint white light drifting up, mist like, from his Hunter's Mark.

He found a wad of barrow weed on his bed. Another piece was partially shoved up his nose, by Fred, he guessed. Sky finished the job, packing it in tight.

Wind blew through Sky's room, gusting through a cracked

.md broken
window,
and glass shards covered the floor like flecks of snow.

"You broke my window?" Sky asked, the shock he'd felt upon waking starting to fade despite the lingering sense of terror.

"Where have you been?"

Fred dropped a note on Sky's bed. "What's this?"

"CAW!"
Fred croaked, explaining nothing before flying out the broken window.

Sky threw his blankets back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Stupid birds."

He surveyed the glass and let out a long sigh. It was everywhere.

He picked up the note Fred had dropped. It was smudged and covered with bird droppings, and the penmanship was bad enough that Sky wondered if Fred had written it himself. It was so bad, in fact, that Sky nearly mistook it for his
own
writing.

“BEING WATCHED, MEET IN MISS TERRY’S OFFICE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU.”

Sky slapped his face to make sure he was really awake. Since when did Piebalds deliver notes? They weren't pigeons.
Or owls.
For that matter, since when did Piebalds write? Either way-delivery bird or author-it was odd.

"Fred, my friend, you are one weird bird."

He spotted his slippers sitting across the room next to his desk. "Perfect."

He ripped the sheets off his bed and wrapped them around his feet. He surveyed his handiwork, remembering how happy Mom had been when she'd found these fifteen-hundred thread-count sheets for 30 percent off. "She's going to kill me." He stepped down onto the glass. He could feel it popping through the material, leaving, he suspected, dozens of tiny holes, but the fabric held well enough to protect his feet.

Moments later Sky threw on some jeans, zipped up a faded yellow hoodie as high as it would go to hide an even uglier Valentine's Day shirt-the only clean shirt he had-beneath, put on his shoes, and used the torn bed sheets to sweep the lass into a pile.

He grabbed Fred's note, shoved it in the pocket of his hoodie, and set out for the kitchen.

"Late again, squirt," said Hannah, walking up behind him. Her hair was still wet from showering after, Sky knew, her rigorous early-morning workout. "Nice hoodie," she added with a smirk.

"What's wrong with my hoodie?"

"Nothing," said Hannah. "That color was really cool in the eighties."

"You weren't even born in the eighties," Sky pointed out.

"I saw
E.T.,"
Hannah replied tartly, as if there was nothing more to know about the decade of denim. "Oh, and thanks for the great party last night. It's no wonder you're so popular."

"Sorry. Next time I'll leave my friend's mom to die in the woods," Sky snapped.

"Derek was still knocked out when I got him home," Hannah continued, sounding heartbroken. "He didn't even give me a good-night kiss!" She snorted as if a boy not wanting
In
give her a good-night kiss were the most absurd possibility In the world. "Lazy Eye and Squid offered to move his lips, but
It
wouldn't have been the same. Derek never moves his lips. Besides, Tick wouldn't let them."

"Amazing," said Sky, shaking his head mockingly. "I mean, the
nerve
of that guy."

Hannah sniffed. "Yes, well," she muttered, "Derek's mom thought he was on drugs; she blamed me, if you can believe it."

"What did you tell her?" asked Sky.

"I lied and told her someone-probably you-spiked his fruit punch with Nyquil," said Hannah. "She'll never let me see him again."

"Do you really want to?" Sky asked.

"Maybe," Hannah replied guardedly. "What's it to you? Is Dad paying you to spy on me now?" "Why? Do you think he would?"

Hannah laughed.
"Probably."
She paused, and then gave him a very serious look, especially for Hannah. "Sky, are you okay?"

"You mean, like, in the head?" Sky joked.

"I was thinking more in the heart," Hannah replied.

"Sure," Sky replied, refusing to look at her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Gee, I don't know," Hannah said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Maybe because your life is nuts?
I know you feel like this whole monster hunting thing is Phineas’ legacy and all, but I've watched what it's done to you over the last year. You're not the same ... something's changed."

Sky met her eyes. "You couldn't be more right, Hannah."

Hannah puffed her lips in apparent frustration.

"Look, I'm fine," Sky lied, not wanting to talk about it, or drag her any further into his messed- up life. "I'm just tired. Last night was bad, but it's all settled now.
Really.
To be honest, I'm more worried about you. I hear Coach Blackburn is making the team practice today right before the homecoming game. Does that mean you're practicing after school as well?"

Hannah didn't look like she believed him, and his sad attempt to change the subject was completely obvious, but she didn't press.

"The man is nuts," said Hannah, "but we're not about to let football players out-nuts us. We'll practice until there's not a player left on the field."

Sky glanced out the window as they passed, noting that it was still dark despite all the colored light coming from the massive stained glass wall surrounding the manor.

He stopped.
Stained glass wall?

"Sky, are you all right?" Hannah asked, sounding concerned even though she couldn't see outside the window from where she was standing.

Sky rushed to the window, and his stomach dropped. Outside, he saw monsters in the yard, frozen in place. In the distance-in the light of the glowing wall-he saw Solomon Rose standing motionless, his branchy Echo arms raised.

"Sky?"

"Wait for me in the kitchen-
don't
leave until I get back!" Sky darted through the dark and winding halls of Pimiscule Manor.

He reached the humongous library in the center of the manor and burst through the doors. Six stories above, he saw the stained glass dome. The pendulum hung from the dome, 'winging back and forth in its terrible arc-a pendulum that, knew, hadn't been there since they'd reset the prison last year.

Sky raced between the empty bookshelves, the books donated to Arkhon Academy years ago. In the center of the nom, in the shallow concave pit that made up the floor, he found Morton Thresher standing quite still, watching the pendulum's erratic, unnatural swings. In his hands he held Sky's pocket watch ... or, rather, Sky's
fanner
pocket watch.

Sky stopped.

Morton wore the two monocles, but they weren't connected together, nor were they connected to the watch. In other words, they weren't a band of one. Morton had somehow figured out how to make the prison appear, but he hadn't yet deduced how to open it-a good thing since, according to Errand, opening it was precisely what he wanted to do.

Morton glanced up. "There you are." He adjusted a few dials on the watch, and then, very suddenly, the pendulum dis appeared. Calmly, as if nothing had happened, Morton turned to face him. He removed the monocles and shoved them in his pocket.

"Hello, Sky," said Morton.
"Lovely morning."

"I've had better," Sky replied. "For example, once I woke up and a Hunter of Legend
wasn't
standing in my library trying to kill everyone."

"That only happened once, did it?" asked Morton.

"Rough neighborhood," said Sky.

Morton's mouth curved. "I see your wit is as sharp as your uncle's. Years ago I saw him argue with a bird for over an hour on the best flavor of ice cream. Phineas favored butter pecan, as I recall."

"And the bird?" asked Sky.

"Mint jubilee," said Morton. "Of course, I had to take your uncle's word for it since I don't speak bird."

"Who won the argument?" asked Sky.

"The bird, I suspect," said Morton. "I didn't stay to find out." "Are you sure they weren't just trying to get rid of you?"

Sky asked in all sincerity.

The corner of Morton's mouth twitched. "I can tell you're going to be a tenacious apprentice-perspicacious, as well."

"And maybe capacious, audacious, and loquacious- !
can
use big words, too. Years of word puzzles from Uncle Phineas
has
made me bodacious," Sky replied. "That still doesn't change the fact that you shouldn't be in here."

"Tell me Sky, where is your uncle? What is he up to? I promise, you can tell me. Despite our disagreements, your uncle and I were friends once."

"Up to?
He's not
up
to anything," said Sky, bristling. "He's dead."

"And you claim that he hasn't contacted you since his death?" asked Morton, his eyes intent.

"No," said Sky. "That's generally the way it works."

Morton frowned. "Most unfortunate; I'd expected him to reveal himself by now. This business with Bedlam reeks of his traps."

"Phineas is
dead,"
said Sky.
"D-E-A-D.
Dead.
I don't know how to spell it out more clearly."

An ingratiating grin tipped the corners of Morton's mouth. "My dear boy, I have known Phineas for over fifteen hundred years. He snookered the Barrow Hags and charmed the
Silversaff
out of enough secrets to outfit the army of Erachnus,
lie
bested
Reemspun
the Elder in a contest of wits, captured the Wimbledon Cleaver, and claimed the Moonriders as our mounts after spending over forty years in the Mountains of Moldy Foreboding just to learn their language. Phineas T.
Joimiscule
is the only man in the history of the world to go toe to-toe with Legend and survive. He is the nightmare of monsters, the bane of hunters, and the consort of the First Hunter before her passing. I know his games. I know his tricks. One does not live as long as he has without some measure of ingenuity. I assure you, Sky, despite what you may think, Phineas IS very much alive."

Sky reeled at both the overload of unbelievable stories
'
had never heard about his uncle and the revelation that Morton honestly believed Phineas was still alive. Morton had insinuated it.
before
, Sky knew, but to hear him say it outright ...

Sky wanted to believe it, too, but how could he? A year had passed since he'd watched Phineas die in the Jack. He'd watched him be consumed in that haunting inferno and crushed beneath that unbearable weight, giving his life for them. If Phineas were still alive, then where was he? And why hadn't he shown himself when Morton's hunters were trying to kill Sky last night?

''I'm curious," said Morton, cutting off Sky's thoughts. "Do you commonly dig up the dead-figuratively speaking, of course?"

"Do you commonly attack children, Morton, especially when you claim to be friends with their uncles?" Sky countered, fearing that Morton already knew about the Grove of the Fallen and Alexander Drake's coffin, his words clearly a thinly veiled reference.

"When necessary," Morton replied. "My former friendship with your uncle is the only reason you're still alive. I'm sure a smart boy like you has wondered why I didn't join in the hunt personally. If I had, I promise you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."