Jack Staples and the City of Shadows (6 page)

Chapter 8

HELLO, FATHER

Six years, two months, and fourteen days earlier

 

Bruises covered Alexia's body. Her hands were tied behind her back and every muscle burned. Petrus had been furious with Alexia for breaking his hand, and his Gang of Terror had punched and kicked her repeatedly until she'd fallen unconscious.

Alexia opened her eyes and groaned as she rolled onto her side. She was laying face-first and was sure at least two of her ribs were cracked.

No!
Where are they?
Alexia's dress and sling were gone, and she wore only her shift. The thought was almost too much to bear. For the first time since she'd been captured, Alexia allowed herself to cry.

Alexia heard someone groan behind her. She rolled over and saw Josiah lying on his back. He had also been beaten.
I should have left him there!
she thought for the twentieth time since the fall.

Yet she knew it wasn't true. It had been the right thing to help Josiah. In truth, she was furious with herself. Stepping on a gutter and losing her balance was such a stupid thing to do. Josiah groaned again.

“Boy,” Alexia whispered. “Boy, I'm here. Are you okay?”

He opened his eyes and smiled weakly. “Thanks”—he licked his lips—“for coming back for me.”

Alexia let out a small sigh. “You're welcome. Though I didn't do such a great job at rescuing you.”

“You tried,” he said. “That's all that matters.”

“I may have made things worse, breaking Petrus's hand like that.”

Josiah grinned. “Yeah, but did you see his face?”

Petrus had looked ridiculous, jumping up and down, screaming like a baby. Alexia giggled, then immediately regretted it when the pain in her ribs stabbed her. “We need to get out of here,” she whispered. “I don't think they'll ever let us go after what I did.”

“It's not Petrus I'm afraid of,” Josiah said. “It's their leader, Lord Korah. He doesn't just hurt people. He's killed people, lots of them.”

Alexia had also heard the stories, though no one knew for certain if this Lord Korah was even real. He was said to be the mastermind behind the Gang of Terror and other gangs in Belfast. But she didn't care how terrible he was. All she cared about was getting her sling and dress back.

Her wrists had been tied tight with ropes, and she didn't think she could wriggle out of them. Alexia rolled away again. There were a few stones lying about, but nothing looked sharp enough to cut the rope that bound her.

“Do you mind if I untie you?”

Alexia rolled to her back and was shocked to see Josiah standing above her, his hands free. He was grinning sheepishly.

“How did you … what did …?”

“I've always been good at getting out of things. I think it helps that I can do this.” Josiah twisted his arms in on themselves—he was double-jointed at the wrists and elbows.

Alexia grinned. “Why didn't you say so, you ninny! Yes, untie me!”

Josiah snickered as he fiddled with the knot. Alexia stood and rubbed her wrists, looking around. They weren't in a locked room but had been left in some sort of tunnel.

“This must be a part of their lair,” she said.

“Yeah, but which way will take us out of here?”

“I'm not going anywhere until I get my dress and sling back,” she said bitterly. “Petrus stole them!”

“You can get another dress and sling.” Josiah was incredulous. “Let's just get out of here!”

Alexia rounded on him. “Go if you want, boy. I never asked for your help. But I'm not leaving without them.”

Josiah threw his hands in the air. “I didn't say I wouldn't help. If it's that important to you, then of course I'll help. Why do you have to be so prickly all the time?”

Alexia was confused. What did this boy really want? After a moment she realized she didn't care. It would be nice to have someone nearby if she really was going to search for Petrus. “Fine,” she said. “You can come. But you had better not slow me down.”

Josiah grinned, rocking on his heels and looking as if he were about to embark on a grand adventure. Alexia rolled her eyes as she studied the tunnel, looking for any clue as to which way to go. When she found none, she decided to pick a direction and start walking. As they crept along the tunnel, Josiah whispered, “Is your name really Blade?”

“Yes,” Alexia said. “Why? What's wrong with it?”

“I can't imagine a better name. I wish my name was Blade.”

Alexia was beginning to like this boy. They hadn't gone far before they heard screams. Someone was in trouble! They shared an uneasy look as they continued forward.

“Please stop! Please,” a boy shrieked, “I beg you!”

“I warned you what would happen if you failed me!” a man snarled.

“Please …”

Alexia and Josiah rounded a corner and stopped. They'd come to a section where six passages joined, forming a large chamber. A man in a black-and-silver hooded cloak held a leather strap and stood over Petrus, who lay whimpering on the ground.

A few older boys and girls stood nearby, looking as if they would rather be anywhere else. If Alexia had to guess, these were the members of the Gang of Terror. Which meant the man must be Lord Korah.
I bet that's why they left us alone,
Alexia thought.
They're all here to watch Petrus get punished.

Alexia disliked Petrus; in fact, she hated him. But a small part of her felt bad for him. What had he done to make Korah so angry? The man's face was shrouded in the deep hood, but there was something familiar about him.

“You are meant to bring this city to its knees,” Korah said. “You are to steal from everyone, rich and poor, to destroy property. You are to hurt those who are weaker and humiliate those who are stronger. Yet you allow a little girl to break your hand?” He sighed. “You are weak, boy! Perhaps I was mistaken to place you in command here?”

“She ambushed us, m'lord!” Petrus sniveled.

“You were ambushed by a little girl?” Korah sneered. “Pathetic!”

Alexia couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Petrus is being punished because I broke his hand?
Josiah is right—Korah is evil!

“I am not known for giving second chances”—Korah shook his head disgustedly—“but I'm feeling … gracious today. You will remain the leader here, but I warn you, do not fail me again.” His voice was as cold as the grave.

Korah had been pacing, but he stopped suddenly. “What is that?”

Alexia couldn't see what he was looking at.

Petrus groaned and held his ribs as he stood. “Just the girl's things, m'lord—a dress and sling. Nothing important.” Alexia's heart leaped—then sank. She'd found them, but now what?

“Give them to me.” Korah's voice was tight.

Petrus scrambled over and handed them to Korah. He hissed the moment his fingers touched the dress. After a moment he began inspecting it, looking closely at the seams and running his fingers along the material. “I don't believe it,” he whispered. “Could it be? After so long, to find her here?”

“I'm sorry, m'lord, are you speaking to me?” Petrus asked.

Korah ignored Petrus as he moved on to inspect the sling. After a moment he brought both sling and dress to his nose and inhaled deeply. After a moment, he screamed and tore Alexia's dress, ripping it in two. But he didn't stop there—he tore it over and over again until it was shredded beyond recognition. Alexia gasped, but Josiah grabbed her and placed a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming.

Alexia shoved Josiah off and glared at him. But she stayed put. Although she hated to admit it, he was right. To attack now would only ensure they were captured again.

“Take me to her!” Korah raged. “This child escaped me once. Tonight I will finish what was started years ago!” He turned to the others. “Come with me and I will teach you how to make someone truly suffer.”

“Yes, m'lord.” Petrus whimpered and darted toward the tunnel where Alexia and Josiah were hiding. Both children scrambled into one of the side tunnels, doing their best to stay hidden in the shadows. Korah dropped the sling and the ruined dress as he followed Petrus and the others out of the chamber. As he stalked past, Alexia once again had the nagging feeling that she knew the man from somewhere.
And he acted like he knew me!
It didn't make a lick of sense. As they darted across the chamber to snatch the sling and shredded dress, Alexia began to weep. Her dress was ruined. It had been a present from her mother and now it was gone.

Present day

As Alexia crept along the dark caverns below Buckingham Palace, she took a stone from the inside pocket of her crimson cloak and dropped it into the fold of her sling. She still wore the Atherial Cloak and was sure the captain and his men had no idea she was following.

They were far enough from the Gang of Terror for Alexia to try to save Wild without being heard. She had to do it before he was taken to Korah. Whatever happened, she could not allow that! As she spun the sling, the captain stopped abruptly and knocked on a large steel door.

The door swung open and Alexia almost gasped when she saw Miel standing on the other side. Alexia had barely spoken to her in Agartha, but she had liked the woman. Could Miel be the betrayer Mrs. Dumphry had spoken of?

“Who is it now?” a harsh voice growled from somewhere inside the chamber.

Alexia felt something cold wrap around her heart. She recognized that voice from when she'd heard it in the tunnels more than six years earlier. Korah was on the other side of the steel door.

Miel looked from the captain to Wild. “They have brought the old woman's pup. The boy, Wild.”

“Excellent,” Korah said. “Bring him to me.”

As the men carried Wild into the chamber, Alexia took a deep breath. It was too late to turn back now. She slung a stone against a nearby wall, and as Miel turned to look, Alexia darted through the door. Though her trick had worked on Petrus, as she passed Miel, the woman looked directly at her and gasped. “The witch has come!”

Alexia sent a stone flying at Miel, but the woman dove aside and it passed through empty space. The two frightened guards dropped Wild and scrambled out of the chamber with the captain.

As Alexia readied another stone, Wild rose from the ground and spun. In a heartbeat he'd reached inside his cloak and sent two daggers flying at Miel's chest.

He must have been conscious the whole time!
Alexia was outraged.
He wanted to be brought here!
If she'd known he was awake, she could have rescued him earlier!

The Atherial Cloak was affecting Alexia's aim, so she shrugged out of it. As she loosed another stone, Korah extended his arms and sent a wall of black flame exploding across the chamber. Alexia somersaulted out of its path, and as she landed, both Korah and Alexia saw each other clearly for the first time. He was standing in front of a massive structure of interlocking steel rings.

“It's not Elion!” Korah whispered hoarsely. “It's the Child of Prophecy!”

“She wears the witch's cloak.” Miel was just as shaken as Korah. Wild lay on the ground nearby, groaning and cradling a wounded arm.

“It's you!” Alexia croaked, suddenly unable to fill her lungs. She couldn't stop the tears as she stepped back. “I don't understand …”

Wild somehow managed to rise and leap at Korah. “Leave her alone!” he screamed.

Korah didn't even glance at him but pointed a finger and sent a stream of black flame to explode against Wild's chest. Wild shot backward, crashed against the wall, and fell.

Alexia tried to breathe, but she couldn't find air. Her chest felt tight as she crumpled to her knees. “Father?” Tears streamed from her eyes as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. “Father, I don't understand! What's happening?” Standing next to the steel rings was Alexia's father. Her father was Lord Korah.

Just before she fainted, Alexia saw her father and Miel share a confused look. From somewhere outside the chamber, multiple explosions sounded, but Alexia barely heard them.

Chapter 9

THROUGH THE PORTAL

 

Jack crawled through the tunnel and quickly approached the third grate. Someone was arguing in the chamber that held the World Portal! He peered through the grate. Directly below was a large structure of interlocking steel rings forming the shape of a ball. He had seen the exact same structure in the Council Chamber in Agartha, though it had been damaged when the city fell.

Standing beside the rings was a man in a black-and-silver cloak. “That has to be it,” a woman's voice came from somewhere below. “There's no other explanation!” Jack tried to get a better look but couldn't see her.

“Impossible,” the man said. “She looks nothing like them!”

“Think, Korah!” the woman said. “Why else would she believe it? She may not be their daughter, but they raised her! The witch and the Staples woman must have switched the children just after they were born. You must remember that night! We thought we misread the stars, but the Child of Prophecy had been born!”

Jack's breath caught; they were talking about his mother! Korah was silent a moment, then sighed. “If you're right, then we let the Child of Prophecy slip through our fingers.”

As the woman stepped into view, Jack suppressed a gasp.
Miel!
The woman sat on the Council of Seven and had fought to defend Agartha.

“Maybe the witch helped her escape, or maybe the child was lucky,” Miel said, “but it's the only thing that makes sense. But you are missing the point! We can use this. If the girl truly believes it, she'll do anything you ask!”

A chime sounded from somewhere, and the air in front of Korah rippled. Jack's jaw dropped as dark mist appeared and formed into a mirror floating in midair. In the mirror was a silvery creature with a catlike face. It had mirrors for eyes, and its ears were pointed at the bottom.

“Are you in place?” Korah said to the creature.

“Yes, Master Korah,” it purred. “We await your signal.”

“We leave now. Kill anyone who tries to enter the chamber.”

“Yes, Lord Korah,” the silvery creature hissed. “As you can see, I have captured the Lightning Dancer. What would you have me do with him?”

The mirror blurred for a moment, and when it became clear again, Jack saw Arthur. He was standing in a small chamber, surrounded by at least a hundred Oriax.
He must be in the chamber directly behind me!

“We have no use for the fat one,” Korah said. “You can kill him now.”

“It will be as you command,” the creature purred. As the mirror of mist dissipated, the silvery creature smacked its lips in anticipation.

Panic rose inside Jack. He had to save Arthur! As he struggled to crawl backward through the tunnel, Jack saw Korah step toward the World Portal and place his hands on the rings. “Thaltorose!” he snarled, and the rings began to vibrate.

Jack didn't wait to see what happened. He needed to save his best friend.

 

Arthur stood in the center of a cramped cavern surrounded by a hundred Oriax. Though he was terrified, something else was happening inside him. He understood he was about to die, and more than anything—even more than saving his life—he wanted to stop the Grendall.

“First, I will become you,” the creature had said. “Then I will kill your friends, one by one.” It made Arthur furious to think of this creature attacking Jack and the others while looking and sounding like Arthur Greaves.
I'm sorry, Jack!

The Grendall licked its lips as it approached. The Oriax growled in anticipation but did not attack. Their eyes were glued to the Grendall. Arthur tried to imagine lightning raining down, but nothing happened. He tried to “feel the electricity,” as Mrs. Dumphry had told him to do, but all he felt was fear.

“What do ye think yer doin', ye mangy feline?” a rumbling voice called from the stairwell. Arthur turned to see Andreal standing at the bottom of the stairs. He was so tall his fire-red hair brushed the cavern ceiling. The giant held a wicked, half-mooned ax in each hand, and his black beard glistened as if soaked in oil. Andreal stepped forward and in one giant leap spun and struck out with both blades. As he landed next to Arthur, five Oriax lay dead around them.

The giant wore a thick black kilt and leather-studded jerkin and had a crazed look in his eyes. The Grendall hissed warily. The Oriax snarled and gurgled their nervous displeasure but did nothing.

“I hope ye no mind me joining ye,” Andreal said to Arthur. “I know ye be having it under control, but I couldn't let ye have all the fun!”

Arthur stared at the giant, unable to think how to respond. Andreal chuckled merrily, then turned his gaze to the Grendall. “Ye should have killed me yerself, ye filthy mongrel. The hundred or so beasts ye sent are dead. So I'll be giving ye one chance to tell me! Where be the traitor? Where be Miel?”

Before the creature could respond, a loud thrumming echoed through the chamber as the ground trembled and dust rained down. “You are too late, giant!” The Grendall darted to the back wall, placed its palms flat against the stone, and pushed. Arthur gasped as the wall began to disintegrate.

“We be almost out of time!” Andreal rumbled above the loud thrumming. “The World Portal be opening.” Andreal placed both axes in one hand and grabbed Arthur by the back of the neck. “The only way to kill a Grendall be to take out one of its eyes,” he said. “But make sure ye pick the right one or ye'll just make it angry!”

Why is he telling me this?
Arthur wondered.
Surely he doesn't think I will …
Without warning the giant threw the Atherial Cloak hood over Arthur's head and catapulted him over the Oriax and in the direction of the Grendall.

Arthur hit the ground and skidded to a stop only a few paces behind the creature that still looked like him. As he scrambled to his feet, he glanced back to see Andreal clang his axes together and scream, “Now, let's dance, ye filthy mutts!” As one, the Oriax swarmed over the giant like a hive of raging bees.

As the Grendall lowered its arms, the wall that had been at the back of the chamber was gone and only a small pile of dust remained. On the other side of the ruined wall a fierce battle raged.

 

Jack's jaw dropped. Andreal was just below, laughing like a madman. The giant spun and leaped among a massive number of Oriax, thrusting his two axes in a dizzying fury. The half-moon blades cleaved a bloody path through the attacking beasts.

As he pulled the grate aside, Jack felt a small pang of guilt for thinking Andreal had been a traitor. He lowered his head through the opening and could barely believe his eyes.

Aias fought a Shadule in a deadly duel. Each time their blades met, gold and black lightning splintered the air. Behind Aias, Elion battled against impossible odds. She leaped between the second Shadule and at least twenty Oriax, swinging her short sword with dizzying speed. Her eyes and hair blazed and gravity meant nothing to her. She leaped from wall to ceiling to floor effortlessly, and where her feet trod, colored mist filled the chamber with unearthly light.

When Jack spotted Arthur, he blinked. There were two Arthurs, and they were fighting each other, rolling across the floor. He was so stunned he almost lost his grip. Arthur Greaves fought against … Arthur Greaves!

Both Arthurs choked and clawed at each other—and Jack was sure that if he didn't act soon, one of the Arthurs was going to die. He tried not to think as he lowered himself to the chamber below.

Fierce fighting raged all around, yet every man, beast, and creature was so intent on the attack that none noticed the boy who appeared among them. Jack moved like a mouse, darting across the chamber toward the fighting Arthurs. As he approached, he drew Ashandar. Even with his recent training, the black blade still felt clumsy in his hands.

Jack had never been able to repeat what happened on the streets of Ballylesson when the sword had taken on a life of its own. Mrs. Dumphry claimed the blade was both weapon and teacher; that the more Jack surrendered to it, the more he would learn. But Jack hadn't been able to figure out how to surrender to a piece of metal.

“Get off him!” Jack pointed Ashandar at both of the Arthurs. One of the Arthurs was choking the other, who had turned a silvery shade of gray. When the attacking Arthur looked at him, he leaped back and raised his hands.

“Jack!” the attacking Arthur yelled. “You're alive! You have no idea how glad I am to see you!” He glanced at the second Arthur. “That's not me; it's a monster and it was going to kill you. It's called a Grendall,” Arthur said. “It made itself look like me, somehow. Except it's not me, obviously, because I am me. We have to kill it, Jack!”

Jack blinked. It sure sounded like Arthur. Whenever his best friend got excited, he talked so fast it was impossible to get a word in.

The second Arthur was still down. “He's lying, Jack!” the second Arthur screamed. “You have to believe me!”

Jack shifted his blade between the two Arthurs. “Where did I first meet you?”

The second Arthur paled and screamed, “We don't have time, Jack! You have to kill him before it's too late!”

The first Arthur smiled. “We were in a mud puddle outside the schoolhouse. Jonty Dobson threw us both in there!”

The second Arthur hissed and transformed into the silvery creature Jack had seen in the mirror of mist. Jack raised Ashandar high as the Grendall let out a rictus snarl. It moved like a cat, circling the boys.

“I will consume you both!” it purred, crouching low.

“Grendall!” Mrs. Dumphry shouted.

Jack turned to see his ancient teacher standing with arms outstretched. The Grendall stood up and hissed angrily. “You have lost, ancient one,” it cried. “My master has the child!”

Mrs. Dumphry stepped forward and released a ball of flames. But the Grendall was quick—it scurried into the shadows, meowing like a sick cat.

Mrs. Dumphry didn't pursue. She leaned heavily against the back wall, and when she met Jack's eyes, she spoke in a strangled voice.

“They have taken Alexia! They have kidnapped the Child of Prophecy!”