The Tomb of Shadows

by Peter Lerangis

  “Let’s do it,” I said, reaching into the bag. “Let’s revive him now!”

  The Loculus was rougher than I expected it to be. Heavier.

  The bag dropped away and my knees buckled. In my hand was a round, polished globe. It looked like marble. As I stared at it, my ears rang with the silence.

  No Song of the Heptakiklos.

  The thing in my hands was not a Loculus.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  IT IS GOOD TO BE BEAUTIFUL

  MARCO WAS GONE, but a part of him must have been inside me, because I hurled that rock like a baseball. It flew toward Artemisia, bashing her in the right arm. Mappas was on top of me in a nanosecond, yelling into my ear and pushing me across the courtyard.

  “She tricked us!” I yelled back into his slablike face.

  Artemisia’s arm circled lazily in the air where I’d hit it, as if she were underwater and it had brushed against a fish. Turning blissfully, she began to descend. If she noticed the hit, she showed no signs of it.

  Cass retrieved the rock from where it had fallen. His face was streaked with tears. As he, Aly, and I closed in on the descending queen, Mappas plopped himself into our paths, ordering Nine and Forty-one to flank him on either side. The Shadows slobbered and grunted, shuffling into place.

  “Thank you, my loyal and fearsome protectors, but I shall face the children myself,” Artemisia said, “to personally offer my gratitude.”

  Mappas merely grunted, pushing the two Shadows aside with his staff and then waddling away.

  Artemisia smiled at us through a face we’d never seen before, her skin silky, her cheekbones high, and her eyes dark and probing. Her once dry, silvery hair was lustrous and wild, and as she strode toward us, Mappas followed with a brush, fussily combing out the tangles. “You see, my darlings, what a service you have provided to me,” she said, flashing a radiant smile. “The sight of my face no longer repulses you, yes? It is good to be beautiful. This will not last forever, of course. But for the fleeting enjoyment, I thank you.”

  “You’re a murderer,” Aly yelled, “not a queen!” She sprang toward Artemisia, but a flick of the queen’s right index finger sent Aly flying backward.

  Cass and I ran after her, picking her up off the ground. “You lied, Artemisia,” I said. “You didn’t live up to your end of the deal.”

  For a moment the queen’s eyes flashed with amusement. “You asked me for a stone orb. I gave you a stone orb. One of the handsomest I have.”

  Cass and Aly looked at me, speechless.

  “Artemisia, there’s been a misunderstanding,” I said quickly. “Our ancestor, Massarym, left something of much greater value than this. We call it a Loculus. That was the stone we wished to have. Not this one.”

  Artemisia let out a long, flutelike laugh. “Take this one, my dear, deluded child. For I cannot give you something I do not have.”

  “What do you mean?” Cass said. “This place was put here to protect the Loculus. It must be here!”

  “But it isn’t,” Artemisia said with a shrug. “It was stolen ages ago.”

  “You’re lying!” Aly cried out.

  Artemisia glared at her. “I built this magnificent structure,” she hissed. “All I wanted was a peaceful afterlife for myself and Mausolus. I did not plan to become mother to this vast wasteland. To these bloodless, brainless children. I did not expect to reign over fires, rogue memories, and vengeful souls. This was all thrust upon me by your uncle Massarym. Do you think I care about protecting his silly toy? Good riddance to it!”

  Breathe. I could barely see straight. Professor Bhegad was lying dead on the ground. No. Mappas was dragging the body away into the blackened archway.

  My plan had failed. Bhegad was gone for good. His death was on my shoulders.

  Soldier, Sailor, Tinker, Tailor. That was what Professor Bhegad had called us. Marco the strongman. Cass the navigator. Aly the fixer. Me? I was the one who supposedly “put it all together.”

  He was wrong. I had managed to take everything apart. I was no Tailor. I was a Killer.

  “We will find that Loculus,” I said. “And I will not rest until I make you pay for what you did to Professor Bhegad, Artemisia.”

  “I acted exactly as our deal required me to,” Artemisia said. “It appears you are the ones not living up to our agreement. So, yes, I agree, you will not rest. Because you will be quite busy here as part of the army of Shadows. In eternal service to me.”

  With an unearthly howl, she turned back toward the palace. Nine and Forty-one began jumping up and down, snorting and slavering. The queen nodded at her vizier, Mappas, who let out a piercing whistle into a dark archway that led into the castle.

  In the blackness, more pairs of eyes appeared.

  Aly, Cass, and I gripped each other’s arms as Artemisia’s army of the dead began crowding into the courtyard. They knocked one another down and stepped over the bodies, unable to coordinate their own movement as a group. They spat and bit and howled, scratching at each other, scratching themselves. They lurched toward us with open toothless mouths and silver-white eyes.

  Artemisia stood to the side and laughed as if the whole thing were a comedy act, her hands clasped together. We backed away, too stunned to talk.

  The griffin let out a fearful, high-pitched squeak I’d never heard before. It was unfolding its wings, preparing to fly.

  Cass spun around. With a strength I’d never heard in his voice, he shouted, “Stay!”

  The beast’s wings drooped. It lowered its head toward Cass.

  “Come on!” Cass shouted, running toward the beast. “Grab its legs!”

  We followed close behind. “How did you do that, Cass?” Aly asked.

  “This thing owes me,” Cass said. “For what its cousin did to me in Greece.”

  Cass and I dived for the red beast. He grabbed on to its tail and began climbing its back, grabbing hunks of fur. I clutched its left leg just above its talons.

  The griffin was twitching anxiously. Cass was settling himself up on its back. Aly reached for its right leg, but it kicked her away. She stumbled backward—toward the approaching mob of Shadows.

  “Whoa, easy . . .” Cass patted the beast’s flank until it seemed to calm down. Then, carefully, he held his hand down toward us.

  Aly caught her balance and darted forward. But as she reached for Cass’s hand, one of the Shadows seized her arm, yanking her back.

  Wrapping one arm around the griffin’s leg, I reached out and managed to grab Aly’s hand. We locked fingers. “Hang on!” I said.

  Aly was sliding backward. “I can’t!”

  The Shadow was pulling hard, shaking Aly from side to side, yelling in a garbled voice: “Orrrrrmm.”

  Above me, I could hear Cass talking to the griffin. “Steady,” he said. “Those zombies are more afraid of you than you are of them . . . ’attabeast . . .”

  The griffin snorted. My fingers were greasy and sweaty. I felt my grip slipping.

  “Jack, pull her up—I don’t know how long I can keep it calm!” Cass said.

  Aly screamed. Another Shadow reached for her leg, colliding into the first Shadow with a confused groan.

  Above us the griffin shrieked, pumping its legs, trying to kick us off. “Hold on, Aly!” I cried out.

  “I’m trying!” she screamed.

  I felt her fingers slide out of mine. A cry ripped up from my toes and torched through my throat.

  Aly was disappearing into a throng of hooting, drooling dead. The last thing I saw was her outstretched right hand.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  SHADOWS ON FIRE

  “GET HER!” CASS shouted. “I’ll worry about the griffin!”

  I didn’t need the prompt.

  Letting go of the griffin’s scaly leg, I ran into the mass of Shadows, following the sound of Aly’s cries. As they turned to attack, I gritted my teeth. The Shadows were strong, but not quick. One of them grabbed my shoulders, and I lowered my head, butting it shar
ply in the nose.

  Its head dislodged from the neck, hanging at an odd angle. It staggered away from me, letting go. As it careened against two others, they all fell like dominoes in a spray of shattered flesh and bone.

  I saw Aly in a circle of slavering, moaning undead. She leaped and spun, uncorking a kick into one of her attackers. Its hip snapped in half. As she fell to her side and rolled in the dirt, two other Shadows smashed into each other above her head.

  I leaped over them and took her arm. “Wow, what has gotten into you?”

  She looked as surprised as I felt. “I don’t know. G7W? I’m Marco-ing out.”

  The Shadows were pouring out of the archway now, outnumbering us. Aly slipped away from me, and I lost her in the crowd.

  Above me, Cass screamed something I couldn’t make out. I glanced up. He was holding tight to the griffin, gesturing desperately toward the wall, where a sconce blazed brightly.

  I grabbed the chalicelike fixture, ripping it out of the cracked stones. “Aly!” I shouted, lunging into the crowd, swinging the fire left and right.

  Out of the crowd, Forty-one slumped toward me. I thrust the flame toward it, thinking I’d scare it away. But the zombie’s hand passed directly into the fire. Sizzling, the skin fell away in charred flakes. No flinch of surprise, no gasp. Instead, with a curious grunt, Forty-one stooped to pick one of the pieces of flesh off the ground and eat it.

  Gross.

  I whirled around, my eyes frantically scanning the mob of dead things until I spotted Aly. She was on the ground, thrashing and yelling. It took five Shadows to drag her toward the doorway. I screamed again, swinging the sconce wildly. It collided with Forty-one’s head. A clump of hair went up in flames, spreading around the zombie’s face and leaping onto its ragged clothes. Forty-one began shaking uncontrollably, consumed by the flames. Other Shadows took notice, turning to look. They followed Forty-one’s shimmying body as it hopped around. A couple of them raised their palms as if warming them at a campfire. Soon another Shadow was on fire, and a third. They were all in a froth now, drawn to the commotion and the brightness.

  “Stop him, you idiots!” came Artemisia’s voice, piercing through the din.

  Where was Aly? I’d lost sight of her. I backed away, trying to see. I held the sconce in front of me, both as a light and a weapon.

  As I circled around the mob, I felt a blow to my neck. My air was instantly cut off, as if my windpipe had been surrounded by an inflating truck tire. I turned to my left to see Mappas. The huge vizier’s staff lay on the ground, but his hands, each one the size of a plump Thanksgiving turkey, were clutched around my neck.

  “You may outwit Shadows,” he said through gritted yellow teeth, “but not Mappas!”

  “Ghhh—hhhh—” I tried breathing but my eyes were beginning to see red dots and my knees began to buckle. Mappas was so massive I was falling against his bulging torso.

  His bulging torso clothed with fabric.

  With my last remaining bit of strength, I shoved the sconce toward him. As my knuckles brushed against his tunic, I felt the pads of Mappas’s thumb sink into my neck.

  My eyes closed and I saw nothing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  GATHERING THE CLOUDS

  “KAAAAAH!”

  The griffin’s screech sliced through the courtyard’s clangor. I sat up, coughing violently. I heard the grunting of zombies, the breaking of brittle bones, but all I could see were black and red dots.

  Inhale.

  As bodies flew above me, I forced the air in and out of my lungs.

  I blinked hard. To my left was the body of Mappas, lying unmoving on his back. His bronze staff lay at his side, the miniature alabaster Mausoleum broken off the top. His tunic was charred black, and wisps of acrid smoke lifted from his body. Skilaki was kneeling over him, feeling for a pulse.

  Had I done that?

  Horrified, I scrambled away. My feet slipped on the ground. It was wet. I could feel droplets on my head now.

  As I staggered toward the wall, I managed a look upward. Hovering over the courtyard was a perfect circle of darkness in the gray sky, a mushroom cap of clouds. By the wall, Artemisia was floating off the ground, her eyes shut, her arms raised high.

  She was chanting. Gathering the clouds.

  I scooped my sconce off the ground. Luckily, the rain wasn’t falling hard enough to have put it out yet. With my other hand I lifted Mappas’s staff, its fancy top now a jagged shard of alabaster. Shadows closed in on me from all sides.

  As I backed away I swung the staff, warding off the flailing zombies. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the griffin trying to take off but slipping on the wet, greasy stones. Cass was still on the red beast’s back, hanging tight, patting its fur, talking intently into its ear. Two other Shadows were clutching the griffin’s other leg, trying to get to Cass, weighing the beast down.

  “Jaaaack!”

  Aly’s voice. From inside the zombie archway.

  I scrambled toward the sound, swinging the staff to stave off Shadows. Inside the opening, the smell of death and rot hit me with the force of an open-palm punch. In the feeble light of my sconce I saw piles of bones along the walls, slithery movement that could have been snakes or rats, beady eyes floating in the distance.

  As I passed into a small, dark room, my foot landed on something solid.

  “Yeow!” Aly screamed. “That was my leg.”

  She was sitting on the dank ground, her arms shackled to the wall. “Sorry! Are you all right?”

  “Watch out, Jack!” she shouted.

  I spun around, dropping the sconce and jumping away from a running zombie. Before it could stumble onto Aly, I swung Mappas’s staff and batted the creature away.

  As it fell in aa heap against the wall, I caught my breath. It wouldn’t be long before the rest of them wised up. Aly and I would be trapped. I had to think fast.

  “Pull your hands away from the wall,” I said.

  “Wh-what?” Aly said.

  “Just do it.”

  Aly backed away as far as the chain would let her. I lifted the bronze staff high over my head and brought it down hard.

  The first hit did nothing. The second dislodged the shackle’s mooring an inch or so from the wall.

  I would need more strength, more speed.

  Time to Marco out.

  “Geeeeahhh!” I shouted, pounding with all my strength.

  The mooring came loose, thumping to the ground. Aly stood, stunned, the shackles hanging from her wrists. “Stand still and hold your arms wide,” I said, preparing to knock the chain loose from her hands.

  “Are you kidding?” Aly yanked back her arms. “Don’t push your luck. I can pick these locks. Let’s blow this clambake.”

  She picked up my sconce and darted back to the archway, the chain dangling.

  We emerged into the courtyard, slipping and sliding on the muddy, churned ground. The entire place was carpeted with fallen Shadows, writhing and moaning, unable to stand. We headed toward the griffin. “Think of what must be in this dirt!” Aly called out. “The blood and guts of slaughtered animals and humans, all rising up as the rain seeps underneath it.”

  “There goes my appetite,” I said.

  Cass’s voice shrieked through the din as we came near. “Hurry!”

  The griffin was in a hysterical frenzy now, jumping up and down on its untrapped leg. One Shadow remained clinging, its jaws sunken into the beast’s flank. With a sharp kick, the griffin jettisoned the zombie into the courtyard. Four teeth remained stuck in its leathery skin, like kernels of corn.

  “I can’t . . .” Cass shouted, “. . . keep it still . . .”

  I dropped Mappas’s staff. My fingers closed around the tip of the griffin’s wing as it swooped to the bottom of a downswing.

  The red lion-bird screamed in surprise. Unbalanced, its body tilted and its legs flew sideways. With a thump that shook the courtyard, it fell to the ground.

  I scrambled up the
wing, clutching the wet feathers. As I grabbed onto its body fur, the griffin screeched in protest, nearly throwing me off, but I managed to pull myself up to its spine and hoist myself over. As I sat up behind Cass, gripping hard with my legs, I felt Aly thumping into place behind me. “All on!” I yelled.

  Aly wrapped her arms around my waist. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Skilaki calling to Artemisia. The queen, still floating, spiraled downward to the ground. Her eyes were opening, her trance coming to an end. The rain immediately stopped falling, the clouds vanishing into the white-gray sky.

  As the griffin leaped with a deafening caw, she cried, “Get them!”

  I felt a hand close around my left ankle. I tried to shake off the attacker, but it held tight. The griffin faltered, smacking against the palace’s stone rampart. The wall split, sending up a shower of dust and rock. “Kick it away!” Cass shouted. “We need altitude!”

  “I’m trying!” I replied.

  But the Shadow’s grip was like a metal clamp. It hung beneath me, its feet dangling just off the ground. My eyes focused on the bronze staff, lying useless below me. I needed it. Now.

  But before I could figure out how to get it, the Shadow reached down with its free hand and snatched Mappas’s weapon. Without hesitating, it swung the staff at me. I kicked my leg away, and the broken alabaster tip stabbed the griffin’s side. With an earsplitting shriek, the beast thrust hard and jerked sharply upward. The Shadow dropped its weapon.

  We were rising. Cass and Aly both shrieked with triumph.

  But my zombie attacker still held tight to my ankle, and there was nothing I could do about it. It took all my strength just to keep from slipping off the griffin’s water-slicked back.

  “Astrapobronto!” echoed Artemisia’s voice.

  “What does that mean?” Aly yelled.

  A jolt of white light ignited the skies, with the electric crack of thunder.

  “That!” Cass said.

  The griffin let out a keening cry that sounded to me like fear. The lightning had been close. I could feel Aly digging her heels into the beast’s flanks. “You can do it! Fly!”