Bad Apple (The Warner Grimoire) (30 page)

“We were right behind you,” Simon said. “We saw you swim in here.”

“Not even,” Luke said. “I’ve been waiting for you two for ten minutes, easily. Much longer and I was going to head on in without you.”

Simon shook his head. “Then what did we see swimming down here?” he asked Penny. “If you weren’t showing us, who was?”

Luke stood up. “Beats me,” he said, approaching the door. “Right now, I’m thinking about this door, how to open it, and what’s on the other side.”

“A way to find Sam,” Simon said.

“Who?” Luke asked absently, never taking his eyes off of the door. He slowly reached out a hand to touch one of the silver mechanisms laid into the door.

The flames of the torches pulsed and grew, and the door shuddered in front of them, the silver locks sprang to life. reminding Simon of Jo’s random silver and brass parts. Penny jumped back as dust rattled through the small cave pocket, and slowly the two great oak doors swung inward, light spilling out into the cave. A man stood beyond the doors, completely silhouetted by the light. He was tall and thin, with a great mane of white hair and a wild, scraggly beard. He swayed and loomed all over the entrance like a scarecrow dancing in the wind. He lurched slightly, and his clothing was tattered at the edges. “Who’s there?” he called. His voice was raspy and deep. “Peter? Silas? Nathan?”

“Hello,” Simon said. He pulled the copy of Speaking with the Dead from his soaked backpack. The book was somehow completely dry. “I’m Simon. Simon Warner. I’m looking for Boeman. I have his gift. I’m ready to talk.”

The figure did not move. “Warner?” he shouted, his voice tripping over the name.

Luke stepped away from the door. “All you, Stray.”

Simon cleared his throat. “Yes! Simon Warner. I’m looking for--”

The torches flickered and died. The shadowy man did not move. Simon took a step forward. “Are you okay?”

The figure took a step back, followed by another, until he was scrambling back up the corridor.“Come in,” he shouted. “All of you. Be quick.” The figure disappeared down the corridor. It was cut stone, lit only by a few small torches every few feet. The three of them glanced at each other, then hurried quickly down the tunnel.

“Who is that?” Penny asked.

“A loon,” Luke said. “Seriously, who lives under a lake?”

“It’s not Boeman,” Simon said sourly. “That much is clear. Could it be another of his acolytes?”

“Simon, are you sure about this?” Penny asked.

“Here,” Simon said, handing her
Speaking with the Dead
. “Look at the snake symbol on the cover. It’s the same symbol that was on the crystal bag--”

Penny eyes burned. “So this is what you two took this from the Archives?”

Luke looked over his shoulder and smiled. “So you kept that, huh? Good for you.”

“What?” Simon said. “It--no. No, Boeman gave it to me.”

“It wasn’t his to give,” Penny said. “I’m keeping this. It’s going back to the Archive.”

“Fine!” Simon said. “After this, fine, but right now I still need it.”

Penny huffed. “Fine, but I’m marking this in your account when we get back.”

“He’d have to have one first.” Luke peered around the corner. “Why’s that book so important?”

“Look at the cover,” Simon repeated. “The snake at the bottom. I’ve seen it before--it was on Boeman’s business card the night we met, and it was on the bag that held the crystal. It has to point to him.”

Penny traced her fingers over the seal and shuddered. “I’ve seen it somewhere before, but I don’t remember. It’s the mark of the serpent though, so it’s an old family. I know that much.”

“Up here!” The man’s voice echoed down the tunnel. “Hurry!”

They moved up the tunnel, exiting into a large, cavernous chamber. Simon shivered as he stepped into the room. The chamber had been cut out of the rock, and the cave walls gave way to hewn stone dotted with torches. Hundreds of rugs and blankets were thrown about, covering large parts of the rocky floor, and a lifetime of furniture filled the cavern: chairs, bookshelves, desks, and books--thousands of them, scattered everywhere. The centerpiece of it all was a large wooden table on the far side, and behind it a wall of organized books and artifacts. Above their heads, the cave ceiling shimmered--moonlight flooded in through a large hole in the cave ceiling, distorted by the gentle rippling waves of the water overhead.

“We’re still under the lake,” Penny said in awe.

“Yes,” said the man. He stood behind the large wooden table on the far end of the room. On the table was their shoes and Luke’s hooded sweater. “Directly under the deepest part, but do not worry. The enchantment that keeps us all dry has held for over three hundred years.” He stepped around the table, a small tray of food in his hands. “I don’t think it will pick today to drown us.”

“Who are you?” Simon said, still clutching
Speaking with the Dead
. “How’d you get our stuff?”

“An old friend,” the man said, smiling. Maggey zipped from behind his shoulder over to Luke, whose eyes went wide. “You have one of my books,” the old man said. “That is amusing, considering I seem to recall donating it to the Archives, along with several others, including a bolt of Atlantean fire silk, if I recall correctly. Then again, I quite possibly may not.” He smiled again, his face crooked and disarming.

“Wait,” Penny said. “
Fire silk
?” The old man nodded. “I didn’t remember the seal but I remember the dragon skin,” Penny said. “Private collection that came in last year, right after Sterling took over.” She looked at the old man with surprise. “The Limnic Collection.” The three of them turned to the old man, who smiled crookedly.

“Please, call me Nicodemus,” he said, holding up the tray. “Cookie?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE EMBER

“Nicodemus the Truant?” Luke cried, his eyes flaring red. “The wayward conspirator. The doddering old fool!”

The old man nodded, his eyes closed. “Nicodemus Ellery Limnic. Born in a hollow tree, raised like a wolf...” he paused, the words heavy in his mouth. “...One who has walked in Thule.” The full mantle was heavy on him, and he seemed to sway under the weight of it. When he opened his eyes again they were heavy with sadness. He tapped his chest and smiled, his voice the rustling of straw in the wind. “That’s me.”

“Be quiet,” Penny said to Luke. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell I don’t.” Luke stepped up to Limnic. “My old man couldn’t keep work the last few years while this old geezer was running the show. We thought he had been killed. Turns out he’s just hiding like a
rat
.”

“I am sorry to hear about your father,” Limnic said, his eyes suddenly very sharp and very blue. “It was never my intention to put anyone out of work. I can put in a good word for him with the new Archmancer, if you like.”

“He ain’t in the picture anymore,” Luke said. “Not like your word would do him good anyway.”

Penny smacked Luke. “That’s enough,” she said.

“Hey!” Luke said, rubbing his shoulder. “What crawled in your cauldron?”

“I don’t suspect you came here to argue just for me,” Limnic said, setting down the tray. “I daresay I don’t receive many visitors.”

“We were looking for someone,” Simon said. “He gave me a gift, said I could use it to find him.”

“A gift?” Limnic made a small, frightened gesture with one hand.

“I thought it was this,” Simon said, holding out the book. Limnic did not reach to take it. “I guess not,” Simon said.

“Tell me,” Limnic said carefully, “was it that book that led you to me?”

“It was a dowsing rod, paired with a scrying crystal.” Penny said. “It led us here.”

Limnic nodded slowly. “I see, Miss Nettle.”

Penny’s eyes widened. “You know my name?”

“Parts of it,” Limnic said, smiling. “I left the dowsing rod with your father. Either he sent it with you, or you found means to bring it nonetheless. Given your desire to find this mysterious gift-giver, I suspect the latter.” He sat behind the table, his elbows digging into two great grooves in the surface. “Curious, though, to know that someone is giving out my former belongings in this manner.”

Simon sat on a large purple couch. A great plume of dust rose into the air. “I thought it would lead to him,” he said sourly. “It all made so much sense.”

“Usually it’s the things that make too much sense that you should trust the least.” Limnic stood and walked under the large opening, gazing upwards through the water. “It shines like diamonds, doesn’t it? Tell me, did this gift giver bequeath you anything else of mine? I had this old hat that I really do miss...”

“Listen up, you old skeleton,” Luke spat. “I ain’t down here to help you find your old hat, or your mittens, or your socks. I came down here for one thing--information. Power. Instead I find a rambling old fool and a plate of cookies. There ain’t no profit in my being down here.”

Limnic continued to gaze into the water. “Delta Order, yes?”

“What of it?” Luke’s eyes narrowed.

“So driven, so determined.” Limnic closed his eyes. “For all the wrong things.” He breathed deep, almost tasting the lake overhead. “Tell me, how is Madam Mamzelle these days? I fear the Delta has been troublesome for her of late.”

“I’m a free agent,” Luke said. “I don’t work for Mamzelle, this Boeman guy, the Freemancers, or anybody. I work for
me
.”

“Boeman?” The old man’s eyes snapped open. “What has he to do with this?”

“He’s who I’m looking for,” Simon said. “He gave me the book. He’s the one who took my dad, Sam--”

“Thatch...” Limnic swept across the floor to Simon. “He has Samuel?”

“You know him?” Simon asked. “How do--”

Limnic’s eyes went wide. “Wait!” he shouted, his eyes trained on the water. A dusty shadow had begun to form in the water. “Ah ha!”

Simon jumped from the couch. “What?”

“No time just yet,” he said, rushing to the wall of books behind the table. Angrily he grabbed a large book from the shelf and slammed it down. A great cloud of dust and wood shavings flew into the air. He flipped the pages furiously, stopping to scan one page. “Here,” he said, pointing to a line of writing. “Simon, read this aloud when I tell you to. Miss Nettle, over here, opposite him. I’m going to need your talents.”

Penny stood opposite from Simon, a bewildered look on her face. “What’s happening?”

Limnic didn’t answer. “You. Delta boy. Stand here.” He grabbed Luke and set him under the pool of water. “It is night, the water is calm.” He passed Luke a silver coin, then pointed at the growing cloud of murk in the water. “Watch that, closely. If you see anything change, let us know.”

“Can’t you do a little better than that?” Luke said.

“Watch the murkiness,” Limnic said, grabbing a ceramic jar with the head of an eagle from under the table. “Ready, Simon?”

Simon had started to sweat. “I think so.”

“Good, good. Miss Nettle, hands on the table.”

She shook her head. “What am I listening for?”

“Nothing, hopefully.” Limnic opened the eagle jar. “Ready. Simon, read the line.”

“It’s in English, won’t I--”

“The book is the conduit, not you. Quickly now, read!”

Simon began to read, slowly. “From the earth, and to the earth, all that rise and fall--”

Penny winced. “I hear humming,” she said. “Loud humming.”

“It cannot hurt you,” Limnic whispered. “It will get louder, but it cannot truly hurt you. Simon, continue. Quickly.”

Simon’s nose itched. “From the sea, and to the sea, over foam and squall--”

“Something’s getting angry out there,” Luke shouted, never taking his eyes off the water. “Something big.”

Simon’s head began to tingle as he read. “Of the fire, and to the bloom, shadow and the wall. Broken hearth, and open flame, hear the Moated call...”

Penny’s breathing increased.”I can’t hear it anymore,” she said. “It stopped.”

Limnic’s shoulders dropped. “No, it didn’t.” He upended the jar, and dirt came pouring out onto Simon’s head.

“Hey!” Simon yelled.

“Spoken spells won’t work now. Their song has moved beyond our ears.” Limnic scooped most of the dirt back into the jar and made for the fireplace. “It sings to them, bids their entrance into this world.”

Overhead the lake churned and frothed as a dark mass began to form in the wake. “Guys,” Luke said. “Something
big
is moving out there.”