Peter and the Shadow Thieves (39 page)

The
caw caw
of the ravens stopped. The birds themselves, normal y restless, held perfectly stil .

Ombra slithered soundlessly, swiftly up the Traitor’s Gate steps, turning left when he reached the street. Keeping close to the wal , he fol owed the street to the tower that Mol y had passed through—and Peter had flown over—a few minutes earlier.

Standing under the tower archway, his back to Ombra, was a guard. Ombra hung back against the wal , waiting, invisible in the darkness.

In a few minutes the guard shifted as he heard boot steps approaching along the causeway. Then Slank came into view, lantern in hand.

“Tower’s closed,” the guard said.

“I know, I know,” said Slank, slurring his words as if drunk. “I apologize for troubling you, sir, but I seem to be lost.” He kept coming toward the guard.

“Wherever you’re going,” said the guard, putting both hands on his staff, “it’s not here.”

“No, no, no, of course not,” said Slank, coming stil closer. “I was hoping you could give me directions.” At that moment the guard felt a sudden intense chil behind him. Before he could turn to investigate, Slank raised the lantern. The guard’s shadow appeared on the cobblestones behind him. It was motionless for a moment, then it began bending and stretching as it was sucked to the dark form of Ombra, who plucked it into the air and stuffed it into the burlap sack. Now the guard stood motionless, shadowless, his face drained of al expression.

“Summon the others,” Ombra said to Slank.

Slank turned and waved his lantern. In a moment Nerezza appeared on the causeway, fol owed by the rest of the men. When they arrived, Ombra said, “The boy and the girl have gone to the White Tower. This way.”

He turned, flowing through the archway. The men fol owed, each giving a wide berth to the tower guard, who stood unmoving, stil holding his staff, staring ahead at nothing.

M
OLLY AND PETER reached the top of the stone staircase and found themselves in front of a heavy oak door. Moly tried the iron handle; the door was locked. She knocked, waited, then knocked again; no answer. She pounded the door with her fist, hard, for a ful fifteen seconds. Stil nothing.

She was about to pound again, when they heard footsteps inside. A few seconds later a two-inch-square panel in the door slid open.

“Who is it?” It was a man’s voice, high-pitched, suspicious.

“It’s Mol y Aster,” said Mol y. “Leonard Aster’s daughter.”

A lantern appeared in the panel opening.

“Let me see your face,” said the voice.

Mol y moved close to the opening so her face was il uminated by the lantern light.

“Wel , wel ,” said the voice, suddenly warm. “It
is
you. Hel o, Mol y.”

“Is that…Mister McGuinn?” said Mol y.

“It is indeed,” said the voice. “Hold on a moment.”

The panel closed.

There was a sound of heavy metal bolts sliding, and the door swung open, revealing a portly man, barely tal er than Mol y but as big as a barrel around his middle. He wore a gray nightshirt, his white hair tufting in al directions, his feet stuck into unbuckled shoes; clearly he’d been sleeping.

The man waddled forward and gave Mol y a hug, stiffening when he caught sight of Peter over her shoulder.

“Who’s this?” he said, stepping away from Mol y and raising the lantern to Peter’s face. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Tink sitting in Peter’s hair. “And what’s
that!
”

“That’s Peter,” said Mol y, “and that’s Tinker Bel .”

McGuinn frowned. “Hold on,” he said. “You’re the boy from the island!”

“Yes,” said Peter.

“Wel then,” said McGuinn. “Come in, come in.”

He ushered them inside, closing and bolting the door behind them. They found themselves in a vast, echoing room. In the shifting lantern light, Peter could just make out distant wal s and pil ars rising to a high ceiling.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” said Mol y. To Peter, she said, “Mister McGuinn is an old friend—our families have known each other for, wel , centuries. But the McGuinns live in York.”

“Oh,” said McGuinn, “I’m here quite often. There’s always a senior Starcatcher on duty. But what are
you
doing here, Mol y?”

“I’m trying to find my father,” said Mol y.

“He’s not here,” said McGuinn.

“I know that,” said Mol y. “But this is the only place I could think of to look.”

“But your father is—”

“I know,” said Mol y. “He’s taking the starstuff to the Return. But something urgent has come up. Men came to my house yesterday and took my mother.”

“No!” said McGuinn, putting his hand on Mol y’s arm.

“Yes,” she said. “They want to exchange her for the starstuff.”

“The Others,” McGuinn said grimly.

Mol y nodded.

“But your father left guards,” said McGuinn.

“He did,” said Mol y. “And they’re helping the Others.”

“That can’t be!” said McGuinn. “Those men are—”

Mol y cut him off. “The Others changed them somehow,” she said. “One of the ones who came, he…he cal s himself Lord Ombra, I don’t think he’s even a man. He seems to be able to take control of people. I know this sounds impossible, but somehow he seems to…to take their shadows.”

“Oh, my,” said McGuinn, running a hand through his unkempt mass of hair. “It’s true, then. We’d received a message about that from Egypt.”

“Yes,” said Mol y. “Mother told me.”

“When we heard about the shadow business,” said McGuinn, “and that the Others had come to that island…” He looked at Peter again, frowning. “But how did
you
get here from the island?”

“I hid on their ship,” said Peter.

McGuinn nodded. “Mol y’s father said you were a brave lad.”

Peter blushed.

“So,” continued McGuinn, “when we got word of this shadow business, and the ship heading to London, we decided to move the starstuff away from here in preparation for the Return. Your father insisted on doing it himself, Mol y.”

“I know,” she said. “I figured out that it must have been kept here. I know Father came to the Tower at night; sometimes he brought me. But he never let me go inside with him.”

“No, he couldn’t,” said McGuinn. “Only senior Starcatchers are permitted in the Keep.”

“What’s the Keep?” said Peter.

McGuinn hesitated, then said, “Wel , I suppose since you already know there’s something here, I can tel you this much: the Keep is a Starcatcher sanctuary, here in the Tower.

It’s been here for centuries.”

“Here?” said Peter. “But aren’t there lots of visitors here?”

“Oh, yes,” said McGuinn, smiling. “But they don’t know the Keep exists. In fact, most of the Tower workers have no idea it’s here. It can’t be entered—it can’t even be seen—

except by those who know how.”

“Wel ,” said Mol y, “we don’t need to see it. We need to find my father, or get a message to him, and quickly. Ombra’s letter says we have seven—no, six—nights to make the exchange.”

McGuinn’s expression became somber, his voice softer.

“I’m afraid that’s a bit of a problem, Mol y.”

Mol y frowned and said, “What do you mean?”

“Your father left strict instructions. Nobody is to be told where he has taken the starstuff. Not even you.”

“But this is an emergency,” pleaded Mol y. “Surely if he knew that my mother—”

“No,” interrupted McGuinn. “He stil wouldn’t want me to tel . He knew very wel what the risks were when he gave the instructions. You must understand the stakes: we’re safeguarding the largest quantity of starstuff to fal in centuries—in human memory, real y. That’s why the Others have gone to such extremes to get it back. We
cannot
al ow it to fal into their hands. To do so would be to give up everything the Starcatchers have spent generations achieving. It would be a terrible tragedy for humankind.
Nothing
is more important than getting the starstuff safely to the Return, Mol y—not even our families. As Starcatchers, we must accept the risks involved. Your father understands that. You must try to understand it, too.” Mol y hung her head. A tear dropped from her eye and splashed on the stone floor. McGuinn reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

Mol y shook it off.

“No,” she said, looking up at McGuinn, her eyes red but defiant. “I
don’t
understand. And I don’t believe that Father would want to let my mother die at the hands of that…that
creature.
”

“Mol y, please,” said McGuinn. “You must—”

He was interrupted by a sudden burst of sound from Tinker Bel .

“What is it?” said Mol y.

“Men are here,” said Peter. “A lot of men.”

“I don’t hear anyone,” said McGuinn.

“If Tink says men are here,” said Peter, “they are.”

A
S OMBRA ROUNDED the corner of the Bloody Tower, the ravens again fel silent. The dark form drifted up the gently rising cobblestone pathway to the White Tower. Nerezza, Slank, and the men fol owed, their shadows shifting by the light of the swaying lanterns.

Ombra stopped at the base of the stone steps leading up to the tower. When the men had gathered round, he spoke in a low groan, his words barely audible.

“We enter here,” he said. “Captain, you wil post two men at the door to prevent any escape.” Nerezza said, “Begging your pardon, my lord. But if we want to prevent escape, shouldn’t we
surround
the Tower?”

“I am…
informed
by the guard,” said Ombra, “that this is the only door to the White Tower.”

“But, my lord,” said Nerezza, remembering Ombra’s wrath when the children escaped the Aster house, “what if they fly?”

“The windows are barred,” replied Ombra. “There wil be no escape that way.”

Nerezza nodded.

“When we enter,” continued Ombra, addressing the men, “you wil spread out and search the tower. You wil find Aster’s daughter, and you wil bring her to me unharmed.”

“And the boy?” said Slank.

Ombra paused for a moment, then said, “I shal need him only for a moment, Mister Slank. Then you may have him.” Slank smiled. Ombra turned toward the waiting men, the faceless hood scanning their faces. Each man felt the cold stare as it swept across.

“The girl is most important to me. She must be brought to me unharmed.
Unharmed.
Is that understood?” The men nodded.

“Good,” said Ombra. “There wil be ten gold sovereigns to the man who finds her.”

The men nodded, eager now to get inside.

Ombra raised his right arm and pointed to the door. “Go,” he said.

With a roar, the men charged up the steps, as hungry for gold coins as wolves for meat.

P
ETER, MOLLY, AND MCGUINN heard it clearly now: men shouting, and the sound of boots—many boots—tromping heavily up the stone steps outside.

“Could it be Warders?” said Mol y.

“No,” McGuinn answered, his eyes on the door. “They’re in their barracks. Nobody is supposed to be here at this hour.” The footsteps reached the top of the stairs outside. The door handle rattled. A voice outside shouted, “It’s locked!”