The Legend Thief (16 page)

"I've had a few thoughts," Sky replied. "Hearing you talk about my uncle has given me a few more. You couldn't possibly be afraid of Phineas, could you?"

"He who has no fear of his enemies has no enemies," Morton retorted.

"Because he has friends?"

"Because he is dead," Morton stated. "But surely there are other reasons you've considered for my absence; perhaps you think I'm Bedlam?"

Sky furrowed his brow: He had thought that, mostly because he thought of everyone as a possible host for Bedlam. Morton hadn't participated in the hunt, which meant that if he was Bedlam, he could have attacked Sky in the swamp, and he could have shot Cass. Plus, Morton was in charge-it made sense for Bedlam to choose Morton. But if Morton was really Bedlam, why would he raise the question?

"Don't look so surprised," said Morton. "I thought the same thing about you when I learned you outwitted my hunters ... until I saw the barrow weed. It's not a perfect barrier---completely ineffective once he's in your head-but it's enough to forestall entrapment, especially for one of such
prodigious wit
as yourself."

Morton sauntered around the library, inspecting the empty bookshelves, the concave pit, and the stained glass dome high above. "Now, Apprentice, it's time for you to keep the last part
of
our bargain: Where is Alexander Drake's body and his shimmering blade?"

"I don't know," Sky snapped. "Why don't you tell me why you made the prison appear?"

Morton's face tightened like a painter's canvas pulled too f.tr across a frame. "DO NOT TRY ME!" he barked, turning to Sky. "My hunters told me what they found at Alexander's rave! I have visited the Grove of the Fallen myself! I have seen the coffin and Cassandra and your little
friend ,
her daughter, peacefully sleeping on your kitchen table! So I ask you again:
Where is the blade?"

Sky started backing away toward the bookshelves and the exit, trying to act casual, but frightened by the mad gleam in Morton's eyes. Morton might want to humiliate him first, Sky supposed, but that look said Morton would happily kill him right now.

"You know: I'm not Bedlam," said Sky, trying to keep his voice from quivering, "but how do I know you're not?"

Morton smiled grimly and slowly walked toward Sky. "Do you feel cold, Sky?
A slight chill, perhaps?"

Sky felt a sudden stabbing sensation in the Eye of Legend on his palm, and cold radiated through his hand. "
How .
..
how
did you ... ?" Black veins spread out from the Eye and his hand started to turn blue. "What are you doing to me?"

"Me? No, Sky-you are doing this to yourself," Morton replied.

"Oh dear, it appears to be spreading up your arm
... ."
Sky looked and saw black veins rising into his wrist and up his forearm. "Stop it." He cringed against the freezing pain and fell to his knees. He rubbed at his arm frantically, trying to drive the darkness back.

It spread up his arm ... to his neck. Just behind the veins wherever they touched-his skin turned midnight blue and froze into a solid, unbreakable mass. His chilled muscles grew taught and ropy, like a Gnomon's, his bones solid and heavy.

And then, as the veins reached his head, he saw visions flash before his eyes. He saw the arrow entering Cass, the Wargarou gutting Beau last year, and the Jack rising up behind Phineas. "Stop it!"

"Only
you
can stop it, Sky. You hold a piece of Legend part of his terrible power-in that Eye. You could so easily destroy me. Let it free.... Use it...." Morton leaned close and whispered in Sky's ear.
"Make
me stop it."

Sky saw Ernaline's tomb sinking into the earth with all the hunters who'd died to protect him, and Piebalds snatched out of the air by the Darkhorn, never to fly again. He saw Errand, a baby, trapped in Pimiscule Manor for eleven years and Solomon Rose throwing Errand over the stained glass wall after claiming to love him-and that desperate need in Errand's eyes.

Sky lashed out with his frozen fist. Strength he didn't possess flowed into the punch as it shot at Morton's face.

Morton caught Sky's knuckles in a hand every bit as frozen and strong. Sky experienced a moment of surprise, and then the black veins in both their arms rushed back toward their palms. Darkness exploded out of Sky's Eye of Legend, matching the darkness exploding from an Eye of Legend on Morton's palm.

Sky felt a jolt as the two forces met-an anger coming from the darkness, a terrible will-and then a shove that sent him flying backward through the air. He crashed to the floor, the Darkness spent, the cold gone. He started to rise but found Morton's shoe on his head, holding him down.

A long shimmering blade plunged past Sky's nose, missing by an inch, before sinking effortlessly into the floor. Morton leaned close again. "You wonder why we really hunted you?" he whispered.
"That
is why."

Morton removed his foot and spun away, leaving the shimmering blade quivering in place. "You are untrained! Undisciplined!
Flawed!
The First Hunter gave the Eye to the Hunters of Legend to protect-it does not belong to you! You are not worthy of the Hunter's Mark you bear! You are not the First Hunter's heir, no matter what trick Phineas played to give you her Mark! Solomon Rose on his worst day wouldn't have allowed himself to lose control like that!"

Sky laughed. If Morton believed that, he didn't know Solomon Rose.

Morton spun on him. "Is there something you'd like to tell me? Some
joke
you'd like to share, perhaps?"

Sky didn't say anything. According to Errand, Morton already knew the Arkhon was Solomon, which is why he planned to free him, but Sky wasn't about to reveal that he knew Morton's secret.

Morton curled his lip. "You were never meant to have the Eye of Legend, Sky. You cannot guard it, not from Bedlam, not even from
yourself.
There is a will in the Eye-Legend's will. Learning to control it takes lifetimes. Use it too much and too often, and he will control you."

Morton turned away and stared into the shadows quietly. As Sky sat up, he noticed the Eye of Legend fading from Morton's palm, the skin somehow folding in around it until it disappeared completely.

The shimmering blade quivered in front of Sky. The blade itself was translucent and waxy, with thousands of flecks of what appeared to be gems encased within. The flecks twinkled like stars and shifted colors, drifting around to create the shimmering effect. The crosspiece of the sword was long and black, the grip as well, with a simple silver knob on the end.

Sky glanced at Morton, who still had his back to him.

Fearfully, Sky reached out to touch the blade, wondering if it was Alexander's and why Morton would ask for it if he already had it, but the moment Sky's fingers connected, the shimmering died.

In an instant the waxy substance turned to rusted iron, the strange, twinkling gems disappeared, and all that was left was a long, corroded sword with a black hilt and silver pommel.

Sky climbed to his feet and yanked at the sword, struggling to pull it from the floor before Morton saw what he'd done. "The blade only responds to its owner," said Morton, shoving Sky to the side and drawing the blade from the floor with case. As soon as he touched it, the blade stirred to life, shimmering brightly. "This one is mine." Sky backed away warily.

Morton pressed the silver pommel and the crosspiece col lapsed, folding down until the blade disappeared and Morton was left with his cane. "Unfortunately, the one I need to find belonged to Alexander Drake."

"I don't know where it is," Sky insisted. "The coffin was empty."

Morton stared at him intently. After a moment he pursed his lips and nodded in a satisfied sort of way. "I believe you."

Morton spun on his heels and headed for the door. "Your education starts in one hour at the grounds north of Arkhon Academy. We have much to do before Bedlam's army arrives, including finding that blade! I've invited your friends-don't be late!"

Sky, T-Bone, and Hands walked onto Arkhon Academy's old hunter training grounds. Andrew had shown up early and opted to stay with Crystal and Cassat the manor rather than answer Morton's
summons, a you're-not-the-boss-of-me mow
if Sky ever saw one. T-Bone and Hands had nearly stayed as well, but ultimately decided to go with Sky for moral support and to pound anyone who got too close to him.

The grounds were hidden in the woods and hills north of Arkhon Academy near the Sleeping Lands. Despite its close proximity, they'd never traveled here before, though they had spied on the hunters from a distance once or twice.

Broken bleachers sat around open spaces for sparring, and precut material for traps were scattered around foreign trees, bodies of quicksand and strange liquids, and all kinds of pits. A few areas had been cordoned off and were covered with signs warning of danger and traps-obstacle courses, Sky supposed.

But by and large the most obvious feature was a gigantic smooth black stone that curled from the earth like a finger and stretched four stories high in the middle of the main field.

Malvidia had shut down Arkhon Academy's hunter school after the death and loss of the majority of Exile's hunters during Solomon's attack twelve years ago. But last year, when dozens of hunters had emerged from the prison, Malvidia had reopened pieces of the hunter school, including the grounds, during a grand ceremony.

Sky and his friends had not been invited.

As they approached the main bleachers where the hunters had gathered, an eerie silence descended. The hunters grim men and women of all ages, from young teens to decrepit adults-stopped what they were doing and watched them pass. The hunters were covered in bruises, cuts, and scrapes from Sky's traps, and nearly all had pale, sickly green skin from the Bolger venom.

Sky took them all in, refusing to look away from these people who had tried to kill him.

He spotted a few familiar faces. Crenshaw was there, of course, his skin a deeper green than the others', as he'd waited longer to get the cure. T-Bone's massive younger brother and bitter rival, Ren, stood next to Crenshaw, pointedly ignoring T-Bone. Sky and Ren weren't really friends, but they weren't enemies, either, and Sky was glad to see that Ren's skin wasn't green, which likely meant that he hadn't joined in the hunt.

Sky recognized several Exile hunters they had saved from Solomon's prison last year. These hunters gave him warm smiles and almost friendly nods. Like Ren, none had green skin or cuts, nor did most of Exile's hunters. Maybe they had refused to kill him, or maybe they simply hadn't known about the hunt. Either way, Sky could clearly see that they were a minority, vastly outnumbered by Morton's hunters.

Sky spotted Malvidia's apprentices, Lazar and
Lucretia ,
normal-colored and watching him closely, and the rest of Crenshaw's former Shadow Warg pack-Alexis (green-skinned) and Cordelia and Marcus (normal-skinned). Marcus avoided eye contact, while Cordelia gave him a big smile and crossed to join them in their lonely walk.

Cordelia had changed over the last year, introducing smidgens of color to her normally black outfits, and smiling on occasion. Her long, straight hair was fiery red-accentuating her milky skin-and pulled back in a ponytail. Like many of the hunters, she wore a long coat filled with hidden pockets for storing weapons, botanical supplies, and other sundries. A belt hung across her chest, with a number of finger-length throwing knives sticking out and an actual sword and sheath hanging from the end by her hip.

"Exciting, isn't it?" said Cordelia, pushing T-Bone aside and falling into step beside Sky.

T-Bone and Hands raised their eyebrows questioningly, but he ignored them.

"Exciting?" Sky replied. "You’ve got a target on my chest."

He glanced back and saw Crenshaw-who had a one-way crush on Cordelia-scowling.

"A target could only improve that sweatshirt you're wearing," Cordelia quipped.

"It's a
hoo
-" Sky glanced over and found her smiling. It was the kind of smile he'd seen girls give to other boys, but he'd never expected to see one directed at him.

"-hoodie," he finished lamely. The smile caught him off guard and all he could manage was a weak lip curl in return.

Hands cleared his throat and Sky tore his eyes away from Cordelia. They'd reached the towering curved black stone. Morton stood at the base of the stone, staring up at it with Chase Shroud, Hagos Adera, and Solange Avaray-the four of them locked in whispered conversation.

Apparently taking Sky's arrival as a signal, the hunters closed in and formed a circle around Sky, Hands, T-Bone, and Cordelia, with the huge stone at the center.

Sky glanced around, knowing he was trapped but doing his best not to act like it. If Morton wanted to toy with him and humiliate him, he was welcome to it. Sky's only concern was for Exile.

A low murmur arose from the hundreds of gathered hunters as they engaged in whispered conversations. He noted that most of the Exile hunters were huddled in a small group directly behind him. Where Morton's hunters were talking, Malvidia's hunters were silent. Their hands hovered near their weapons and their expressions were strangely determined.

Finally Morton ended his whispered conversation with Chase, Hagos, and Solange and turned to face them.

Chase winked at Sky, but Sky ignored him. Whatever game Chase was playing, Sky didn't want to be a part of it.

A hush fell on the hunters as Morton inspected them. His eyes took in Sky, T-Bone, Hands, and Cordelia, and then swept past. He walked around the circle, staring down his hunters.

"You.
Are.
Stupid," Morton stated. He paused and came to a stop near Sky, but his eyes remained locked on his hunters. Sky thought Morton was done and that the speech might just be the worst he had ever heard, but Morton started up again.

"Last night," Morton barked, "this group of untrained children bested you." Morton gestured vaguely at Sky, T-Bone, and Hands. "And this boy"-Morton pointed at
Sky-"humiliated
you."

"Hunters are only as good as the hand that guides them, I always say." The Exile hunters parted and a man Sky had never seen before strode through. He was unusually thin, with a narrow face, big ears, and a sharp nose. He wore a battered trench coat and slacks, with a bullwhip looped through his belt, and he was covered in dirt from head to toe.

Behind the man, Sky saw Malvidia, Beau, and-most surprising of all-Dad. T-Bone's mother, a huge Polynesian woman, was also there, along with Hands’ grandfather, Osmer, whom Sky had met at the nursing home a few times.

Before the circle closed, Sky saw Nikola, his mad child hood protector, walking alone and unseen in the dawn shadows of the distant trees to the west, heading into the Sleeping Lands. He carried a checkered blanket, like the one he'd had the night before, and a small picnic basket on his arm. Sky's heart lurched painfully at the sad sight, and then the circle closed and Nikola disappeared from view.

Sky glanced at Dad, who gave him a warm smile before turning his attention back to Morton.

Rather than feeling comforted, Sky's general unease skyrocketed into full-blown panic. Morton wanted to humiliate him, to make him suffer, and Sky was willing to endure it for the sake of Exile, for his family and friends, but he knew Dad would never allow it; he'd never just stand by and watch Sky suffer, even if it meant saving himself and all of Exile.

The dirt-covered man strolled toward the black stone, looking up at it, his back to Morton. "That's a mighty large finger," the man muttered appreciatively, his accent British and as thick as Morton's. "After all this time, I'd nearly forgotten how enormous Erachnus was."

Sky looked around for a giant finger, and then realized that the man was talking about the black stone. Sky stared up at it.

Erachnus?

"Winston Snavely," Morton sneered. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Winston spun around to face Morton. "I heard there was a surprise party and thought I'd drop in for cake-lemon, I hope." "The party is over, I'm afraid," Morton replied, sounding annoyed.

Winston shook his head sadly. "More's the pity. Though from what I understand, Sky threw the party, and the surprise was yours. Or perhaps the surprise is still on its way?"

"If you're implying that I mean to harm the boy after giving my word and taking him as my apprentice,
then
the surprise is yours," Morton stated. "Or perhaps you've come to inform me that Bedlam is loose and his army marching here as we speak?

I assure you, I'm well aware. The other Hunters of Legend have given me full leave to handle the Exile situation."

"So I've been given to understand," Winston said evenly. "Though decisions made in darkened rooms with a minority of fellows are hardly binding."

"Binding enough," Morton snapped. "Though you're welcome to challenge the decision if you can find a majority ... unless, of course, you’re proposing to resolve
this another
way?” Morton raised his eyebrows questioningly and Sky saw his hand tighten around the pommel of his cane.

Winston grinned and held up his hands in a gesture of peace, steering clear of his bullwhip. "Perhaps another
time .
.. I'm simply here for the party."

"Ah, yes! There's the Winston I remember!" Morton laughed derisively.
"Cowardly as ever."

Winston frowned deeply. There was a flash of anger and Sky thought Winston might attack. But the anger disappeared so quickly, Sky wondered if he'd seen it at all.

"Quite," Winston mumbled, adding more loudly. "Let's get this party started, shall we?"

"A fine idea, Winston," Morton agreed, "the first I've heard all day. Since Malvidia has evidently persuaded you to represent Exile's interests among the thirteen, why don't we start with a friendly wager: Exile's finest young hunter"-he gestured at Sky-"versus our finest young hunter"- he waved at Chase, who grinned, obviously relishing the idea.

Winston looked skeptical. "I suppose ..."

Chase's smile broadened and he sauntered closer, drawing a shiny silver sword from a hidden sheath. Sky
blanched ,
then tensed as he saw Dad and Beau reaching into their coats.

Fortunately, Sky had anticipated just this sort of thing. He strode forward and put himself within Morton's reach, ensuring that Dad and Beau couldn't do anything to save him if fighting started, and thus removing the reason for the fight. Frustration cracked Dad's ever-smiling face and Beau gave Sky a crooked grin. Sky had just trapped them, and they both clearly knew it.

Winston examined Sky, Dad, and Bea u, apparently noticing the silent exchange. He gave Sky an approving nod before addressing Morton and Chase.

"Perhaps we should start with something a little less pointy," Winston proposed, gesturing at Chase's shiny sword.

"Might I suggest wooden swords?"

"Oh, come now, Winston," Morton chided, "
we
use real swords at the Academy."

"And we kill real creatures with them, and sometimes not the ones we intend," Winston retorted. "Malvidia and her hunters have already entertained this whimsical farce long enough by practicing when they-and we-should be hunting Bedlam and preparing for his army. Let's not add to the discourtesy by detracting from their numbers."

Morton sighed dramatically. "Very well, then," he growled, "if you wish to coddle the boy, wooden swords it is."

Chase put his silver blade away with an indifferent shrug, and a hunter stepped forward and handed Sky and Chase wooden practice swords.

"Anything else we can get for you, Your Highness?" Morton sneered condescendingly.
"A warm glass of milk, perhaps?"
Several of the hunters snickered.

"If you have one, I wouldn't say no," Sky retorted. Morton's smile tightened, and Sky kicked himself for not holding his tongue. Trying to appear braver than he felt, Sky walked over to Chase and held the sword out in front of him. He'd never held a sword in his life, not even a wooden one.

Chase bowed to him and Sky gave a halfhearted twirl of the hand. "Can we just get on with this?"

Chase grinned, dropped into a stance, and motioned for Sky to attack.