The Tomb of the Sea Witch (Beaumont and Beasley Book 2)

by Kyle Shultz

  “I beg your pardon?” I huffed.

  “It’s often the way with romances between enchanters. Boy meets girl, boy angers girl, girl turns boy into…insert unpleasant creature here. Tale as old as time.”

  “We’re just friends,” said Cordelia, her face red.

  “Very, very complicated friends,” I added. I was probably blushing as well, but thankfully my fur hid it.

  “Anyway,” said Kiran, “getting back to Molly—who is not romantically involved with me in any way whatsoever—she might be able to help you figure out where the Sea Witch is buried. She helped me go through these artifacts. It’s a shame she’s so clumsy, though; she’s the one who smashed up that shell-necklace. I took over the hands-on work after that.”

  “So,” said Crispin, “I guess we’ll have to ask Molly for help after all.”

  I twitched my tail in irritation. “Yes, I suppose we will. You don’t have to look so pleased about it.”

  “If and when you do get the location we need,” said Kiran, “just let me know and we’ll arrange a trip. Though you should hurry. I’ll be very busy this week making torpedoes.”

  Cordelia’s eyes widened. “Torpedoes?”

  “And other weapons, too. I’ve got all sorts of ideas.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Why do you think? Because of that little incident with you and your students on the beach this morning. It’s unquestionably an omen of far worse things to come. The powers that be are very concerned, and Headmaster Blackfire has instructed us all to prepare for war.”

  Cordelia was horrified. “They intend to go to war with the Undine?”

  “Of course! It would seem that those cursed merfolk are back. Using their horrid song-magic to command armies of the undead. Very unseemly. We have to strike back.”

  “But that’s unthinkable!” cried Cordelia. “Another War of Land and Sea? It’ll be wholesale slaughter on both sides! Not to mention the fact that the non-magical population of Caledon will probably get sucked into the conflict as well!”

  “Yes,” admitted Kiran. “A pity. I mean, we’ve known for a long time that the general public would eventually find out that magic’s not really dead and gone. But I’d hoped it would be under better circumstances. Still, you never know. Maybe the Council can use their Neverwolves to make sure word doesn’t spread.”

  The word was unfamiliar to me. “Neverwolves? What are those?”

  “Don’t ask,” said Cordelia, shuddering. “Nathaniel, we have to stop this. It’ll be a catastrophe.”

  “All the more reason to involve Molly, then,” said Crispin. “She’ll know what we’re dealing with. She’ll probably have an idea of how to stop it.”

  Cordelia ran her fingers through her hair and exhaled slowly. “I’ll leave it up to you,” she said to me. “You’re better at reading people than I am. Do you think she’s lying?”

  I hesitated. “To be honest, I really don’t think she’s trying to deceive us…but I’m not certain enough to stake our lives on it.” I tapped a claw against my lips, considering.

  “I think we should talk to her,” I said at length. “We can meet with her tomorrow. Try to determine exactly what she has in mind. Then we’ll make a final decision.”

  “Yes!” said Crispin, punching the air.

  I raised a hand to silence him. “I just said we’d talk to her. I didn’t give my blessing for the two of you to get married or anything.”

  “Ah, young love,” said Kiran with a smile. He leaned toward Cordelia with a broad grin. “Reminds you of how we started out, doesn’t it, my stunning sea otter?”

  Cordelia’s eyes flashed. “Oooh, that did it.” Throwing out her hand towards Kiran, she blasted him with a fiery ball of spinning runes. Within seconds, he dwindled into something much smaller and less arrogant.

  Appropriately, he was now a sea otter, peeking out of the pile of his ridiculous clothes with a surprised expression on his whiskered face. Shoving aside his fallen hat, he turned his beady eyes on Cordelia and gave a reproachful squeak.

  I applauded. “Well done, Cordelia.”

  She smiled in satisfaction. “It’ll only last for about five minutes, but it was satisfying all the same.”

  “Can I steal his hat?” asked Crispin.

  “No,” I said. “You can’t.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  “Precisely.”

  The dream came again that night. Everything happened exactly the way it had before, right down to the Beast fighting off the hideous sea-creature.

  “All right, all right!” I shouted, as the Beast emerged from the sea and slung the water from his fur. “Enough! You don’t have to put on a repeat performance. I understand.”

  He tilted his head at me and smiled. “Do you really?”

  “You feel threatened by what we’re planning to do. This is all symbolic of your fear of being destroyed.” I pointed to the water. “The mermaid represents the spell that’s going to take you out. It all makes sense.”

  He gave me a round of mocking applause. “Bravo, Dr. Beasley. You’ve successfully psychoanalyzed me.” Then he leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. “Or have you?”

  “I think so.”

  “What if I’m trying to help you instead of just preserving my own life? Did you ever think of that?”

  “No. I don’t believe you’re that altruistic. The most positive spin I can put on this dream is that you’re trying to warn me about the impending Undine attack. In which case, thanks ever so much, but I already knew about it. And you’re still just trying to save your own skin.”

  He curled his lip at me. “You idiot.”

  “To be fair, I can’t say you’re not useful from time to time.” We were circling each other now, like tigers of the jungle readying for a battle. “Those powers you were talking about before come in handy now and then. Well, not that mimicry thing, but I might find a use for it before all this is over. The lie-detector one has been very helpful.”

  The Beast clicked his fangs together. “Oh, has it? How nice for you.”

  “Don’t try to beat me in a battle of sarcasm. Believe me, I’ll win. Even against a version of myself.”

  “Fine,” he snarled. “Make a joke of this. Ignore me. Die. I hope you do die. It’ll serve you right.”

  “Don’t act like you have any right to tell me what to do. You’re an accident. You only exist because Cordelia made a silly, impulsive decision.”

  “Is that how you see it?” The Beast crouched low, readying for a spring. “Perhaps, in the not-too-distant future, you’ll have a chance to see things from Cordelia’s point of view.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  The Beast just laughed. Then he leapt toward me, his claws extended. As he slammed into me, the world went black, and I awoke with a start. I dug my toes into the rafters to keep from falling.

  “It’s only a stupid dream,” I told myself, waiting for my pounding heart to slow down. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.”

  I tried to ignore the voice in my head whispering, Just keep telling yourself that.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Cordelia vs. Malcolm

  We all met in the corridor outside Molly’s rooms the next morning, a couple of floors below my little attic. It was only half past six, and the rosy light of sunrise was still streaming through the windows. It clashed with the pale, eerie glow of the lamps along the hallway, natural beauty at war with Warrengate’s twisted gloom.

  Crispin rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Explain to me why we’re doing this so early again?”

  “First of all,” said Cordelia, “we need to get this plan under way as quickly as possible. I don’t want the situation with the Undine to escalate any further if we can stop it.”

  “And second,” I added, “it’s a good tactical decision. Molly has access to information we don’t. She’s had the advantage so far. We need to catch her off her guard; put things on a more equal footing.” I reached up an
d bashed a fist against the door.

  “But don’t you think it’s a little rude?” said Crispin.

  “I’m not really worried about that.”

  “I am!” he protested. “I want to marry her! I don’t want my big hairy brother rousting her out of a sound sleep and scaring her half to death!”

  The door swung open.

  I yelped in alarm and jumped back.

  Molly was clad in a rumpled dressing gown. Her eyes were half-closed and bloodshot, and her hair was a frizzy tower on top of her head. It startled me for a second.

  “Whoozit?” she gurgled.

  “Me!” Crispin chirped, jumping in front of me. “Sorry to trouble you so early.” He held up a hand to his mouth and whispered behind it, “It wasn’t my idea.”

  Molly pondered this for a long moment, gazing at us in silence. Then she nodded slowly and held up her index finger. “Hanggon,” she yawned, pushing the door shut. We heard the sound of fingers snapping, and blue light flashed around the edges of the door.

  When it opened again, Molly was still wearing the dressing gown, but her eyes were normal, her hair was far less wild, and she was now wearing her spectacles. “That’s better,” she said, sounding more awake. “Good morning, everyone. Would you care for some tea?”

  “Sounds perfect,” said Crispin.

  “Coffee for me, thanks,” I said gruffly. “Black.”

  “And nothing for me,” Cordelia added. Then, looking conflicted, she said, “Maybe just a small cup of tea.”

  “Certainly.” Molly stepped aside and motioned for us to enter. “Come on, then. Pardon the mess.”

  I tried very hard to pardon it, but my own innate neatness made this difficult. As Molly headed off to the kitchen to retrieve the tea things, I cast a disapproving look at the books, papers, pens, pencils, dishes, and clothing strewn all over the little sitting room. We had to clear armfuls of random objects from the couch and chairs just so we could sit down. Whatever else Molly Beaumont might be, she was most certainly a slob.

  She and Crispin were perfect for each other.

  “Here we are,” said Molly, coming back in with the tea tray. She kicked a pile of books off the table, then set the tray down in the empty space. Then she settled herself in an armchair across from Crispin. “So. To what do I owe the honor, and so forth?”

  “First of all,” I said, “let’s get our real names sorted out. No sense using aliases any longer. I’m Nick Beasley; this is my brother Crispin.”

  “Crispin.” Molly smiled at him. “I’ve always liked that name.”

  A goofy grin spread across his face. “Thanks!”

  “Right,” I cut in, “anyway. We need to talk to you about the Sea Witch.”

  “Actually,” Cordelia cut in, “we need to talk to you about you.”

  “Yes,” said Molly, taking off her spectacles and cleaning them on her dressing gown. “I had a feeling you’d want to ask about what happened yesterday.”

  “You sang,” I said. “Or…something. You used the same kind of powers that the Undine were using to control those skeletons.”

  “Are you a mermaid?” Crispin blurted out.

  Molly paused a moment before answering. “Yes…and no.”

  I snorted. “It would be both. Nothing’s ever simple.”

  “Actually, it is simple.” Molly stood up and spread her arms dramatically. “I’m a direct descendant of the Little Mermaid.”

  As she spoke, blue-green light began to swirl around her from head to foot. Her dressing gown rewove itself into something resembling leather battle armor from a bygone era; only it was made from strips of some scaly material instead. The garment reached down to just below her hips. The most dramatic change, however, was in her legs, which had fused together to become a fish-tail. Her scales were mottled with bright blue and orange patterns, and she had a single, rounded tailfin.

  I blinked in surprise. “Aha. Right. Yes.”

  For a second, the magic suspended Molly in the air. Then she pitched forward and fell facedown on the carpet.

  “Ow,” she moaned. “I always forget to make sure I’m sitting down before I do that.”

  Crispin dove forward to help her. “That was amazing,” he gushed.

  I waved my hands in the air. “Wait, wait, just hold on a second. You’re descended from a mermaid.”

  “Correct,” said Molly, smiling gratefully at Crispin as he cradled her in his arms and carefully returned her to her chair.

  “And you’re Cordelia’s cousin.” My eyes drifted to Cordelia, who was still staring at Molly with her mouth hanging open and a teacup raised halfway to her lips.

  She blinked rapidly as she realized what I was suggesting. “Don’t look at me! I’ve never had fins in my life!”

  “The mermaid stuff is on my mother’s side,” Molly explained. “Alastair Beaumont, my father and Cordelia’s uncle, was fully human.”

  “But I thought the Little Mermaid…you know…killed herself,” Crispin pointed out.

  “She had a child first,” Molly explained, wriggling into a more comfortable position on the chair. “With the prince. It was all kept very secret.” She motioned to her fish-tail. “Do you mind if I stay like this for a while? Changing back and forth more than once in a few minutes really tires me out.”

  “Of course!” said Crispin, still brimming with giddy exuberance over meeting a mermaid.

  “Well,” I said, “the Little Mermaid having a child puts her suicide into better perspective. She must have been devastated when the prince abandoned her.”

  “True,” said Molly, “but she would never have wanted what happened after her death. The war was a great tragedy for both humans and Undine. That’s why the Little Mermaid’s bloodline has worked for centuries to maintain the peace between the two races. Technically, my family is part-human and part-Undine.”

  “Is that why you work here?” asked Crispin. “‘Cause you don’t strike me as the ‘mistress of dark magic’ sort. Are you undercover like us? Watching to make sure conflict doesn’t flare up between humans and merfolk again?”

  “Exactly.” Her smile returned.

  “Fascinating story,” I said, interrupting Crispin and Molly as they gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes. “But does all of this mean that you know where the Sea Witch is buried?”

  She nodded. “I have a good idea. And given recent events, I’m just as interested in finding the tomb as you are.”

  “Why?” asked Cordelia.

  “Because there might be spellsongs in there that would help me prevent a second War of Land and Sea. Non-lethal ones, I mean. For example, if I could use a battlesong that suppresses the magical abilities of the Undine and the Charmbloods at the same time, it would make it much harder for them to fight each other. They might be forced to negotiate peacefully.”

  “If you’re a mermaid, and you know where the tomb is already, then you could have gotten those songs yourself by now,” I argued.

  “The tomb is guarded,” said Molly. “I can’t get to it on my own. Especially not with skeletons marching all over the ocean.”

  “But why is this skeleton stuff even happening?” I wondered out loud. “What caused the Undine to start attacking humans again now, after all this time?”

  “Is it because Kiran took those artifacts?” asked Cordelia.

  Molly shook her head. “I doubt it. He didn’t find anything significant.”

  “Still,” I mused, “it seems like a pretty big coincidence.”

  “I’ve been aware of a stirring in the ocean for several days now,” said Molly. “That’s why you found me walking the beach last night, Nick. I was listening for Undine songs; trying to figure out what was going to happen. Yesterday was the first time they actually attacked. And it’s only going to get worse.” She leaned back in her chair, looking tired and worried. “Look, I know you all think that I’m trying to manipulate you as part of some diabolical plot, but that’s just not true. This is the fate of Caledon we�
��re talking about. Probably more than that. A war between humans and Undine could easily ignite other conflicts between species. It could be The End all over again.”

  “You know,” I said, “that brings up a point I’ve been wondering about for a long time. What exactly is ‘The End’? I mean, people just throw the phrase around without addressing what it means. Most historians think it was just a big war. Then we found out that there were creatures called ‘the Hollow Ones’ involved, so obviously there was something magical about it.”

  “No one’s really sure,” said Cordelia. “All we know is that something happened which toppled most of the Old Kingdoms and left the Afterlands in anarchy and chaos for hundreds of years. Attempts to find out more have never been successful. In fact, some people think that the event somehow altered written history, confusing all of the records. That would explain why the truth of the old stories is so often misremembered.”

  “Whatever happened,” said Molly, “we can’t risk it happening again. That’s why we need to go to the tomb together and find something to stop this war before it starts. The question is, will you three trust me to help you do that?”

  “Sure we will!” said Crispin.

  “Crispin,” I said, giving him a stern look, “you are not the team leader.”

  “No,” said Cordelia. “I am.”

  “What?” I frowned at her. “Why are you the team leader?”

  “There’s a long list of reasons.”

  “No, there isn’t!”

  Crispin raised his hand. “Oi, Mr. and Mrs. Bickersley. Can we at least agree on letting Molly help us?”

  Cordelia and I looked at each other. “I think so,” I said. “You?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “With some reservations. But yes.”

  “Yay!” said Crispin and Molly in unison, ridiculous grins on their faces.

  I shut my eyes and hung my head. “Brilliant. Now we’ve got two of them.”

  When I returned to my rooms to get ready for breakfast, there was a salamander waiting for me with another envelope. I couldn’t tell if it was the same one I’d roared at yesterday, but either way, it appeared to know that asking me for tips was a bad idea. It threw the envelope at me, made a face, jabbered something in its weird language, and vanished in a burst of flame.