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

by Kyle Shultz

  “You leave him alone!” Cordelia grabbed Molly’s arm and jerked it upwards. The spell shot harmlessly into the air, the runes flickering and dying in second. Then Cordelia curved her fingers, beginning to cast a spell of her own.

  “Don’t,” Molly cautioned. “I may not be able to suppress your magic while we’re disenchanting the Kraken, but I can still kill your friends back at Warrengate.”

  Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, then clenched her fist, causing the runes to flicker and vanish.

  “I’m sorry,” said Molly.

  Cordelia glared at her. “Oh, stop apologizing, you—”

  “Now, Crispin!” I shouted. “Hurry!”

  “It’s a difficult spell!” he snapped. “I’m going as fast as I can!”

  Molly fired several runes at the shell in my hands. As they struck it, the necklace shattered, falling to the submarine’s hull in a shower of tiny fragments.

  “It’s over,” she said. “The spell won’t work without something to store my voice. And it doesn’t look as if you’ve brought anything else.”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t suppose it does.”

  Molly’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “What do you mean?” I mimicked. The voice coming from my mouth sounded exactly like hers.

  “What’s happening?”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Stop it!”

  “Stop it!”

  “Nick,” said Cordelia, “does this entire plan revolve around your annoying her to death? Because while I have every confidence in your abilities in that area—”

  “Something to store your voice in, right?” I said to Molly. “Something that copies what it hears…like the shell did.”

  Realization dawned on Molly’s face. “You—”

  “Yes,” I said. “Me.” I turned to Crispin. “Now!”

  He sent a cloud of runes spinning toward me and Molly. They formed into long chains between her neck and mine. Molly struggled to break free from the spell’s grip, but the runes held her firmly in place.

  “She’ll kill them,” she gasped. “She’ll kill your students. Malcolm. Everyone at Warrengate.”

  “I doubt she has enough control over the song for that right now,” I said.

  “She—” Molly choked, clawing in vain at the spinning circle of runes around her neck. “She says she’ll do anything. Anything you want.”

  “There’s nothing I want from her.”

  “She hasn’t given up yet. She’ll still fight you.”

  I smiled. “Tell her to bring it on. I’m ready for her.”

  The chains of glowing symbols shone brighter, pulling an orb of purple light from Molly’s mouth. As it left her, her eyes went to Crispin. Every emotion the Unqueen had kept her from showing over the past day flashed across her face. Anguish. Regret. Horror.

  Rage. Her gaze went back to me. I saw something very familiar in her eyes—the fierce love and loyalty of her cousin. She didn’t speak, but her message was clear.

  Get her.

  I nodded, and her expression turned to gratitude. The spell dragged the purple orb towards me, right into my throat. My head exploded with pain, and I felt my legs buckle as the world around me went black.

  I was back on the sandy, beautiful beach from my recurring dream. Everything was the same as it had been before.

  Except this time, the Unqueen was really here, not just a vision.

  The hideous, gray-skinned creature who had once been an Undine clawed her way up onto the boulder, dragging her tentacles behind her. She let out an ear-splitting shriek.

  I looked at Beast-Nick. “Well, here we are.”

  He smirked. “You listened to me in the end. Amazing.”

  “Did you plan this all along?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Can you see the future somehow?”

  “I get hazy glimpses of it sometimes. Not enough to make me—or you—a prophet. It’s just an uncanny knack for sensing danger. Lots of animals have it.”

  “Still, you could have told me a few more details early on. Might have saved me a lot of bother.”

  “Would you have listened to me?”

  I paused to consider this. “I guess not.”

  The Unqueen shrieked again, reaching toward us with a gnarled hand.

  “The ironic thing is,” said the Beast, “you’re going to get what you wanted after all. Cordelia’s cross-casting idea will probably work. I’ll have to fight that thing; we can’t both exist within you. And most likely, we’ll destroy each other. You’ll be human again, and you and Cordelia and Crispin can all live happily ever after. The End.”

  “I—” I hesitated, trying to make sense of my feelings. “I’m sorry. For not listening to you when you tried to help me, and for…” My voice trailed off.

  “Letting me die?” He waved a paw in the air. “Eh, don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. Like you said, I’m not supposed to exist. I’m just glad I could be of some help while I was here.”

  “Look, you—”

  “—should hurry,” he said, glancing at the Unqueen. “You’re right.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  “But it’s true.” He laid a paw on my shoulder. “Look, find a way to give Crispin back his legs, and then have a good life. A nice, ordinary human life with no claws or fur or any other complications. You deserve it.” He shrugged. “Sounds pretty boring to me, but to each his own.”

  Before I could say anything else, he bounded forward and leapt on the Unqueen. They tumbled over each other, jaws snapping, claws slashing. I watched them fight for what felt like an eternity. In time, black blood gushed from a deep wound on the queen’s neck, but her claws were sinking into the flesh behind the Beast’s ears. She would be dead in seconds, but she would take him with her.

  I stepped toward them, drawing back my fist.

  All I had to do was hold back and avoid distracting the Unqueen. It wasn’t like I could do anything to harm her, anyway. The Beast had already struck a fatal blow. But if I attacked her now, she wouldn’t have time to destroy my curse before dying herself.

  I hauled off and socked the Unqueen in the jaw.

  She fell to the ground in a heap and instantly began to melt into a pile of putrid sludge.

  The Beast lay there, breathing heavily and bleeding from a hundred different cuts. I grabbed his arm and helped him into a sitting position. “You all right?”

  “I think I will be,” he rasped, rubbing his throat. “But what in the world did you do that for?”

  I sank down on the sand next to him, sitting in silence for a few moments. “That thing hurt Crispin worse than he’s ever been hurt in his life.”

  “I know,” said the Beast, looking down at his furred chest and watching the wounds gradually close and heal.

  “And you tried to protect him.”

  “Of course. He’s my brother.”

  “You’re the one who gave me the idea about using the dagger on him. I wouldn’t have thought of it otherwise. And if you hadn’t done that—”

  “Well,” said the Beast, “he’d still be a human.”

  “A dead human.”

  “True.”

  I traced patterns in the sand with my finger. “Here’s the thing. You protected Crispin; the Unqueen hurt him. It wouldn’t have been right to let her kill you. I’d never have been able to forgive myself if I’d let that happen.”

  The Beast watched me in silence, his wounds now almost completely healed. “Thanks,” he finally said.

  “You’re welcome.” I got to my feet. “However, I still want to be human again.”

  “Understood.”

  “I’ve basically chosen to spare your life twice now, counting the time I destroyed the Clawthorn Rose. I can’t promise there will be a third time.”

  He nodded. “Of course not.”

  “I still don’t like you.”

  “I don’t blame you.” He stood up and
extended his hand to me. “Good luck, Mr. Beasley.”

  I hesitated for a long moment, then accepted the handshake. “Good luck, Beast.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Class Dismissed

  “Wakey-wakey.”

  The voice was Cordelia’s. My eyes fluttered open, and I saw her, along with all the Mythfits, standing around my bed. Judging from our austere surroundings, we were somewhere in Warrengate.

  “Hello,” said Alan, waving and grinning at me.

  “You’re not an evil mermaid, are you?” asked Gareth.

  “He’s not,” said Cordelia. “I’ve checked. He’s just a Beast. There’s no other magic affecting him now.” She folded her arms. “For a moment, I thought that my cross-casting idea was going to work after all, but for some reason, the Beast won out instead of them both getting destroyed.”

  “At least that mermaid thing is dead now,” said Bryn. “It is dead, right?”

  “Very,” I said, in a hoarse voice. “Trust me. I made sure of that.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Sylvia.

  “Never mind.” I pushed myself up into a sitting position, trying to gather my thoughts. Then something occurred to me. “Where’s Crispin?”

  The uncomfortable silence that followed chilled me to the bone. “What happened?” I shouted. “Where is he? Is he hurt?”

  “Calm down,” said Cordelia. “It’s just—complicated.”

  I reached out and grabbed her shoulders. “Tell me.”

  “He’s not hurt.”

  “Good, but there’s obviously something else wrong, so get to the point.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Remember our conversation the other day about parallel casting not working on you?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well…” She fidgeted nervously. “It did work on Crispin.”

  My heart pounded. “What do you mean, it worked on him?! What did you do to him?”

  “I presume you didn’t want him to be a merman for the rest of his life.”

  “Of course not, but—”

  “And the source of his spell was the Kraken, so breaking it was out of the question.”

  “Lady Cordelia Beaumont,” I snarled through gritted teeth, “you tell me what you turned my brother into, right now!”

  “Good morning!” Crispin chirruped, sweeping into the room.

  I took a good, long look at him. “Thank God,” I said, my shoulders slumping in relief. “You’re still human.”

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “At the moment.”

  This didn’t sound good. “At the moment?”

  Crispin knelt down on all fours and, in the blink of an eye, turned into a fox.

  I yelped in surprise and horror, recoiling so violently that I fell off the bed.

  A raven fluttered to the floor in front of me. “You all right?” it asked in Crispin’s voice.

  I vaulted back onto the bed. “Explain,” I commanded Cordelia.

  “He’s a pooka now,” said Bryn. “Like me. Malcolm and I worked together with Cordelia to cast the spell.”

  “I’m going to murder all three of you. Even Malcolm. And anyone else who was involved.”

  “Nick, calm down,” said Cordelia. “Is it really so bad?”

  “How can you even ask that? Crispin is the last person in the world who should have shapeshifting powers! He’s insufferable enough just being able to cast spells!”

  Crispin changed back into human form. Someday I was going to ask somebody how the disappearing and reappearing of clothes worked when it came to shapeshifting. “This has been the best week of my life,” he gushed. “Aside from that one unpleasant bit yesterday, of course. I’m a shapeshifter, I have a bunch of new pets, I saved my girlfriend from possession by a mermaid ghost—”

  “With a lot of help from me,” I reminded him.

  Cordelia’s expression turned grave. “Crispin, about Molly…”

  “I’ve just seen her,” he said. “She’s still sleeping, but she’s all right.”

  “Yes, Crispin, but you need to understand something. She—” Cordelia hesitated, looking anguished. “She won’t be able to speak. Ever again.”

  The happiness on Crispin’s face turned to confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “The spell you used to stop the Unqueen took her voice. Permanently. Her vocal chords are destroyed.”

  Crispin was silent and still, staring at nothing.

  “Crispin,” I said softly, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” he said, in a flat, toneless voice. “It’s not right. This isn’t right.”

  “There’s no way to heal the damage,” said Cordelia. “It’s just too severe. The fact that it was done by magic only makes it more impossible to fix.”

  “No,” said Crispin again. “It’s not impossible. She doesn’t deserve to be punished for what happened.” His expression hardened. “And she won’t be.”

  With that, he transformed into a barn owl and flew out of the room.

  “Crispin!” I shouted, bounding after him. “Wait!”

  I barely managed to keep up as he swooped down the corridor. He might not have been flying for long, but he’d certainly figured it out quickly. He veered into a room a few doors down from mine—apparently, this part of Warrengate was a hospital. As we both rushed inside, I saw Molly’s sleeping form in the bed. Her face was pale and drawn.

  “Crispin,” I exclaimed, as he shifted back into human form, “what are you doing?”

  “Magic,” he said simply, holding his hand over Molly’s throat and summoning runes.

  “Crispin, wait!” cried Cordelia from the doorway. She was staring in horror at the glowing symbols. “I know what you’re trying to do, but that spell—it won’t work. It’s dangerous; you might hurt yourself!”

  “It’s all right,” he said softly. I wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to us or to Molly.

  “Don’t!” Cordelia warned, as I reached out to stop him. “There’s no telling what will happen if he loses control.”

  “What’ll happen if he doesn’t lose control?”

  “I don’t know!”

  All the light in the room dimmed as if night were falling, despite the morning sun visible through the window. The shadows lengthened, and the air grew cold. Molly’s body began to rise off the bed. The irises of Crispin’s eyes clouded, and his face became as pale as a sheet. As I watched him, a lock of his hair turned pure white.

  “Crispin, stop!” I begged him. “Please!”

  Then, in the blink of an eye, everything went back to normal. Molly fell back onto the bed, her complexion now more healthy. The light returned; the air grew warm again. It felt like nothing had happened—except for the streak of white in Crispin’s hair.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, watching him fearfully.

  He didn’t answer. He reached down and gently touched Molly’s face, whispering her name.

  Her eyes fluttered open.

  “Crispin?”

  Her voice was weak, but it was there.

  A joyful grin spread across Crispin’s face. “It worked. It actually worked!”

  Molly blinked rapidly. “What worked? What’s—mmph—”

  “Oh, great, this again,” I muttered, as Crispin picked Molly up off the bed and kissed her tenderly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered after the kiss, a tear running down her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Shhh.” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “It’s all right. Everything’s all right now.”

  “Forbidden magic aside,” I said to Cordelia, “you’ve got to admit that’s sweet. And at least nothing horrible happened.” I turned to look at her.

  She was staring at Crispin with something like horror.

  “What?” I touched her arm gently. “What’s wrong?”

  She seemed to snap out of a trance. “N-nothing,” she stammer
ed, “nothing.”

  “Remember,” said Crispin, “Sparky needs a belly-rub after he eats. He gets indigestion otherwise.”

  “Yes,” said Molly. “You told me that already.”

  “And you have to feed Edmund on time; otherwise he’ll start chasing people around.”

  “I know that.”

  “Kiran said he’d take care of Nerys, but if you could look in on her once in a while, that would be wonderful. And Reginald needs—”

  “Crispin,” I interrupted, “Molly is a professor of the very thing you’re lecturing her about, remember? She knows how to take care of all your pets.”

  Crispin looked over his shoulder at the waves crashing on the shore. We were standing on the dock outside of Warrengate, preparing to depart for Camelot. “I wish we didn’t have to go,” he said.

  “We can’t stay,” I reminded him. “Too dangerous. Sooner or later, Madame Levesque will figure out that we’re here—especially after everything that’s happened. We can’t trust the students to keep it all quiet.”

  “We won’t tell anyone, Professor!” Bryn piped up. She and the other Mythfits had come to see us off. “What are we supposed to not tell anyone again?” she whispered to Alan.

  “That they’re fugitives from the Council, not professors,” Alan told her.

  “Ohhh.” She nodded slowly.

  “It’s better this way,” said Molly, cupping Crispin’s face in her hands. “You need to keep on the move, for now. And anyway, I don’t like being very far inland. I need to stay here, where I’m close to my people.”

  “But are you sure you’ll be all right?” asked Crispin. “If word gets out that you’re a mermaid—”

  “Part-mermaid,” she reminded him. “And aside from Kiran, Malcolm and the Mythfits—I can’t believe we’re calling them that, by the way—no one else at Warrengate knows who or what I am. None of the people who do know are going to tell anyone.”

  Crispin took her hands in his. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. No more touching rusty old Undine rubbish that might turn you evil. All right?”