The Black Fortress

by E. G. Foley

  Oriel gave Ramona a stunned look.

  “Stay away from me, cursed woman!” they heard Peter bark at Jillian a moment later. “You two-faced—! I don’t even know you!”

  “What do we do now?” Oriel murmured.

  “I hardly know,” Ramona replied. “I could’ve never foreseen this.”

  “Perhaps one of us should go and fetch the Guardians to come and take her away,” Oriel said grimly.

  “Perhaps we should send Peter to fetch them,” Ramona said in a low voice. “Get him out of here for a bit, so he can cool off.”

  “I’ve never seen him like this before,” Oriel whispered.

  Ramona wondered if the lovelorn wizard had remembered yet that the punishment for traitors was burning at the stake. With a shudder, she headed for the stairs. “I’ll tell him to go get the Guardians.”

  “Hold on. We’ve got company, Ramona.” Oriel lifted her hand, turning toward the wall. “Yes, Constanzio? What is it?”

  Ramona saw nothing, but understood they now had a spectral visitor.

  “What?” Oriel drew in her breath.

  Ramona looked at her in alarm. “What’s he saying?”

  “Can you show yourself?” Oriel asked the ghost. “You’ve got to tell her this in person.” She looked darkly at Ramona. “Best if you hear it from him.”

  It took a ghost vast quantities of energy to become visible even briefly to non-clairvoyants, but Constanzio began doing just that.

  The warmth of the room drained away, leaving a chill as the opera ghost pulled the energy out of the atmosphere and channeled it into materializing.

  Ramona nodded to the wispy gray ghost in greeting as his portly form floated halfway through the wood-paneled wall.

  “It’s Badgerton!” His famous voice, though muffled, seemed to echo backward from a great distance. “Badgerton’s the traitor!”

  “What?” Ramona asked.

  “He has a black candle in his room!” said Constanzio, floating by the fireplace. “I saw him use it to contact the enemy just tonight.”

  Ramona froze. “Zolond?”

  “No, Wyvern. At first, he couldn’t speak at all.”

  “The silencing spell!” Oriel said.

  “Oh no,” Ramona breathed as she realized their mistake. Jillian…

  “But Wyvern removed it,” the ghost said. “Then Badgerton could talk.”

  “Peter, get down here!” Ramona shouted, then looked at her friend. “Wyvern must’ve redirected Peter’s silencing spell onto Jillian.”

  Constanzio started fading as Peter rushed back to them, pounding back down the staircase.

  “What is it?” the wizard demanded, then saw the ghost. “Constanzio!”

  “Tell Sir Peter the name of the real traitor,” Ramona ordered the fading specter.

  The ghost turned to the wizard. “It’s Badgerton.”

  “What?” Peter answered, visibly jolting.

  “There’s more.” Constanzio had almost disappeared, but he used the last of his strength to continue. “After Badgerton ended the candle call with Wyvern, he turned himself into a badger and fled the palace. So I followed.”

  “Where?” Ramona asked swiftly as Constanzio continued to fade.

  “I’m not sure. I lost him outside somewhere around the zoo. I think he went underground.” The ghost shook his head. “The black candle’s still in his room—proof of what I say!”

  Then Constanzio vanished.

  “Badgerton…?” Peter echoed, at a loss.

  Ramona squeezed his arm. “It wasn’t Jillian.”

  Peter turned and saw his teary-eyed wife standing on the stairs. Jillian must’ve followed him down from the parlor without any of them hearing her.

  She looked at her husband as if he was the one who’d committed the betrayal—and, indeed, he had.

  “Jill?” Peter took a hapless step toward her, still dazed. “Jill, I’m sorry—”

  Turning away from his apology, she fled back up the stairs with a muted sob. Peter closed his eyes and hung his head, more deeply wounded than if Wyvern had plunged a dagger in his back.

  “I’ll go fetch that candle Constanzio mentioned. Make sure it’s there,” Oriel said. “We don’t need anyone else getting hold of it.”

  Ramona slipped her wand back into its holster. “I’ll send the Guardians to hunt down Lord Badgerton.”

  Peter dragged his eyes open, his face ashen. He looked downright queasy over the false accusations he had hurled at the woman he loved. “I’ll go remove the silencing spell from my wife. I doubt she’ll have much to say to me, but maybe then we can get to the bottom of this.”

  Ramona nodded, but frankly, she doubted Jillian would be forgiving him anytime soon. With that, the three of them split up to see to their separate tasks.

  * * *

  Three of Badgerton’s front claws were torn and bleeding by the time his paw punched through the endless wall of soil to empty space on the other side.

  Panting and covered in dirt, he paused with relief, but only long enough to wipe the sweat off his brow. He peered with one eye through the small hole he had made. He saw more meadows, some sheep.

  Through the fist-sized hole, the cool night air began pouring into the tunnel. It helped to revive him, for he was more than exhausted.

  He was not sure how much time had passed, but he had worked at a feverish pace, not taking breaks.

  Encouraged to have finally arrived at the end of his tunnel, he worked on widening the hole, ignoring the pain in his front paws and screaming shoulder muscles. Somehow, he summoned up a final burst of strength, and soon, the opening was as big as his whole body.

  Though by now he trembled with pain, he told himself that the Proteus power would be worth it, as would his future seat on the Dark Druid Council.

  Wyvern had specified that the tunnel must be tall enough for a large man to walk through. Well, that large man would simply have to duck his head a bit, Badgerton thought, for after widening the opening to about five and a half feet in diameter, he’d done all he could do. He’d worked until he couldn’t lift his arms anymore.

  At last, he changed himself back into a human. Wincing and grimacing, he looked down at his filthy, blistered hands, then gingerly pulled on the clothes he’d stashed in the tunnel along with some other supplies he figured he might need.

  Once he was decent, though covered in dirt and grime, he shuffled out of the tunnel, bone-tired, his shoulders slumping.

  No wonder it had taken him four bloody months to finish, he thought as he stepped out into a grassy meadow beyond the magical boundaries of Merlin Hall.

  He’d dug his way through a whole blasted mile of earth, pushing forward an average of forty-five feet per night. Rather proud of himself, Badgerton turned to look back toward his starting point near the magical zoo, but, of course, Merlin Hall—the palace and all its outbuildings—had become invisible now that he was outside the Veil.

  The important thing was that he was in the clear. It seemed he had gotten away with it.

  Worn out from his task, Badgerton glanced around at the rolling countryside with its moonlit patchwork of sweeping sheep pastures and stubbled cornfields hemmed in by stone fences.

  The late October chill kept him moving after all his sweaty toil. His hands still on fire with pain, he returned to his supplies and lit a pair of lanterns, setting one near the mouth of the tunnel to help his co-conspirators find their way in the dark. The other he carried with him as he left the tunnel.

  He then staggered up to the top of the hillock under which he had just burrowed, determined to get a better view into the distance.

  Wyvern ought to be arriving soon. Perhaps he was out there somewhere already.

  Trudging to the top of the smooth green mound, Badgerton was panting by the time he reached the hillcrest. But when he looked across the dale, he could not believe what he saw.

  He jerked with an oath of astonishment, then he stared in shock.

  Wyvern h
ad landed the Black Fortress right on top of poor Aelfric!

  The three-hundred-foot-tall chalk man in the hillside, chief protector of Merlin Hall, struggled uselessly, trying to get up, his white-outlined feet kicking, hands flailing.

  Pinned beneath the castle’s spiky towers, poor Aelfric could do nothing. The huge building had landed square on his chest, holding him down.

  Meanwhile, the drawbridge of the Black Fortress stood open, and an army of Noxu barbarians were marching out bearing torches and spears.

  Badgerton felt a tingle of dread run down his spine. His heart jumped up into his throat. What have I done?

  But a deal was a deal. It was too late for regret now.

  The invasion was here.

  CHAPTER 56

  A Hasty Exit

  Dani enjoyed the turtle ballet. For the first half-hour.

  It was a lovely spectacle, at least for a while, especially when the turtles trailed long, colorful ribbons from their mouths as they swam through their swirling shapes and figures. The small amphitheater inside the Coral Palace had a sandy floor and a half-circle of white stone columns that formed the backdrop for the sea turtles’ performance.

  But, ribbons or no, there were only so many spins and pirouettes a person could take before utter boredom set in.

  It had arrived much sooner for Jake than for Dani. Sitting beside her, his elbow resting on his chair arm, he leaned his cheek on his fist with a glazed stare.

  At the end of the row, Sapphira had practically fallen asleep.

  Dani felt sorry for the mermaid princess for having to sit through this all the time because of her father.

  Up on his coral throne, King Nereus was still enjoying every moment of the show. Same with Lord and Lady Bradford—though, of course, they were diplomats, so perhaps they were just being nice.

  Smooth as they were, it was hard to tell how they really felt about most things, unless it was one of those rare occasions when they chose to be frank.

  In any case, since the underwater orchestra continued sawing away on their strange musical instruments, Dani decided now was the perfect time to tell Jake something private that had been on her mind for days.

  Something she had not had the chance to say yet, with all that had been happening. But it was important that he knew.

  Perhaps, also, she had been keeping her distance from him a little lately, guilty over the knowledge that she was keeping tabs on him for his Aunt Ramona.

  But so far, Jake had been perfectly well behaved, so there had been nothing controversial for her to report.

  Dani had noticed he seemed fascinated by his uncle and aunt’s role as diplomats, and had duly reported that to Her Ladyship.

  Nothing to feel guilty about there. With her conscience relatively clean, she leaned a bit closer and gave him a nudge with her arm.

  He jolted upright, blinking. “Huh?”

  “I don’t believe it, you know,” she whispered. “Not for an instant.”

  He looked at her with confusion.

  “The prophecy,” she whispered while the turtles spun. “It’s rubbish. You could never turn evil. I just wanted you to know that I know. We all do. No matter what other people think.”

  He gave her a smile. “Thanks, carrot.” Then he sighed, a stream of small bubbles rising from his lips. “I wouldn’t mind if the flipside of that prophecy came true, though. If I could find some way to destroy them.”

  She nodded, quite willing to agree that if anyone could do it, it was probably Jake. But what an ominous destiny to have to carry around from the age of thirteen.

  “Well,” she assured him, “you’re still just a kid. I’m sure you don’t even need to worry about it till you’re old. Like, thirty or something.”

  “I hope so,” he murmured, though he didn’t look convinced. “It would be nice to get it out of the way, though. Rather than have it hanging over my head my whole life.”

  She nodded at that.

  The turtles wove in layered figure eights around the columns.

  “Jake?” Dani whispered after a moment, ignoring an offended courtier who gave her a dirty look for talking during the performance.

  Jake leaned near. “Aye, carrot?”

  She pursed her lips for a moment, straightening her spine. “I just want you to know that, when the time comes, however old we are, you can count on me.”

  He looked surprised.

  “If there’s any way I can help you do it, you know I will.”

  Jake’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her as only he could.

  He captured her hand, and Dani started to link her fingers through his, but they had both forgotten they had webbed hands and feet at the moment on account of the Piscean potion, so it didn’t work.

  Stifling laughter, they gave up on holding hands and exchanged a grin as another courtier shushed them. They tried to sit quietly for a moment.

  “Ugh, how much longer is this thing?” Jake whispered.

  Dani shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re turtles. They’re slow at everything.”

  At that moment, some movement caught her eye over by the round porthole window in one of the pinkish coral walls. She elbowed Jake again and nodded toward it. “What’s happening over there?”

  He looked over.

  One, two, three large dolphins zoomed in through the porthole.

  Ignoring the turtles’ performance, they swam overtop of the audience, arcing down to crowd around Princess Sapphira in the front row.

  The first dolphin woke the sleeping mermaid princess with a nudge of his snout, then all three began clicking at her and squeaking up a storm.

  Jake and Dani both looked on with interest.

  The other two dolphins hovered nearby, not even caring that they were blocking the king’s view and interrupting the whole court’s entertainment.

  “Daughter, get those noisy pets of yours out of here this instant!” the brawny, white-bearded mer-king commanded while the sea turtles got out of formation and started bumping into each other.

  “I beg your pardon, Father, please hold on…” Sapphira rose from her seat, turning to the dolphins. “What’s this you’re saying?”

  The dolphins whistled and squealed with great excitement.

  “Are you sure?” the princess asked.

  The middle dolphin bobbed his head.

  “Oh no,” Sapphira murmured. “Did she say anything else?”

  The dolphin wagged his head back and forth.

  Jake and Dani exchanged a surprised glance.

  Then the first dolphin chirped and whistled to his friends, and all three swam off again as quickly as they’d come.

  The turtles looked a little offended at the interruption, Dani thought. Some kept swimming through their practiced choreography, but others stopped and floated in place, flippers waving; they seemed unsure of what to do.

  Then she noticed that Sapphira looked worried all of a sudden. With a swish of her tail, the mermaid princess sped over to her father’s side and whispered in his ear.

  King Nereus turned to his daughter, then lifted his hand. “I am sorry, everyone. We will have to cut tonight’s performance short.”

  “Oh thank God,” Jake said quietly.

  “What is it, sire?” Lord Bradford asked. “Is something wrong?”

  Even Maddox was awake now.

  “It appears so, my lord. We just received a message from your ship.” King Nereus rose with a frown. “Your daughter, Isabelle, implores you all to return to the surface immediately. It was she who sent the dolphins. She says it’s some sort of emergency. That you all must hurry back to Merlin Hall at once.”

  Dani turned to Jake with wide-eyed alarm, but he just shrugged.

  * * *

  Grateful as Jake was to escape the turtle ballet, trouble back at Merlin Hall was not the sort of interruption he’d had in mind. Uncle Richard and Aunt Claire and the rest of their entourage said hasty farewells to their hosts, anxious to return to their v
essel and find out what was the matter.

  It had to be something quite serious, or Isabelle would never have dared interrupt a royal visit.

  Soon, they set out through the night-dark waters. Escorting the diplomatic party back to their ship was the brawny Captain Tyndaris and a contingent of his armed mermen guards. The seas were dangerous at night.

  To help light their way, each guest had been given one of the glowing, phosphorescent sea anemones that served as underwater lanterns. Sea candles, Sapphira had called them.

  The mer-soldiers had small ones affixed to the front of their Roman-like helmets. This kept their hands free for wielding their stingray spears in case the group crossed paths with any night-hunting sharks.

  Surrounding their guests in a protective ring, the mermen conducted them back up to the yacht, Tyndaris himself leading the way.

  Swimming through the eerie darkness of the night sea, Jake wondered with gnawing anxiety just what this “emergency” was back at Merlin Hall.

  His friends and he exchanged worried glances as they glided upward through the waves. Nobody knew what to expect.

  When they reached the surface, arriving beside the towering vessel, Jake lifted his head, blinked salt water out of his eyes, and saw that all the ship’s lanterns were lit up. The crew was running around the decks getting ready to sail.

  To his surprise, Isabelle was down on the water in one of the ship’s dinghies, Janos holding the oars steady; she had a second box of Nixie’s vials open on her lap, this time, to reverse the effects of the Piscean potion.

  At Aunt Claire’s request, Nixie had brewed up doses of the reversal potion for each of them, just in case something came up.

  Smart lady, Jake thought. But, of course, his aunt was an experienced diplomat. She obviously knew from many such missions to expect the unexpected and had become accustomed to managing crises on the road.

  Her daughter, meanwhile, had the vials ready and waiting to turn each of them back into their regular selves.

  “Queue up, everyone!” Izzy said.

  From the edge of the rowboat, she handed out the vials, explaining the situation to her parents, Ranjit, Derek, and Tex as she worked.