The Artifact Hunters
Page 20
“Wraith bite,” Isaac said. His tongue felt like lead.
“You need an antidote,” Kat said.
“But where? Where’s an antidote?” Amelie asked, her voice pitched high.
“I know,” said Leo eagerly. “I know what he needs. It’s in the Vault. I read about it in the history of artifacts. There’s one called the Elixir. The Elixir of Life. One drop and it revives anyone close to death. More, and it can even bring back the dead.”
“I remember it,” Amelie said. “The Elixir of Life. We read about it when we were there, Isaac.”
“All right,” said Isaac. The air around him was fuzzy. “After a nap.”
“No,” said Amelie, her voice sharp. “Now, Isaac. You’re going to call the Vault now. We need to get you the Elixir. Come on.” She pulled at him roughly, and he staggered to stand, leaning heavily against her.
“What’s going on?” Colin asked.
Amelie dragged the limping Isaac to a blank wall. “Right here. All you need is a wall, right? Just that and the key and the request?”
“I guess,” Isaac said. Was that right?
“Get the key,” Amelie said. “Now.”
He fumbled with his shirt. That’s where the key was, right? He thought so. He pulled at a chain. He tugged it out and wrapped his cold hand around the cold pendant at the end of the chain. “Cannot remember.”
“You have to,” Amelie said. She had him by the arms, holding him against the wall.
“Okay,” he mumbled. “Um, hello.”
Nothing happened.
Kat began to weep.
Then, with metal scraping on stone, Bedwyr moved toward Isaac, lifting his sword as he came. Isaac’s head swam as he watched the sword. Bedwyr was going to kill him, right there.
Bedwyr raised the sword level with Isaac’s neck, then pressed the point against the stone wall. He pushed, tracing with a slow scratch-scritch, as he made a mark on the stone.
The eternity knot.
Isaac remembered then. Bedwyr knew. Isaac needed the symbol to form the door. And the request. Images and words swam up in his memory—the woman called Mistress Vivienne—and he said, “Guardian. Requires you. Door. Here and now. Please.”
He felt it then, the door, as it formed beneath his hand, and the other children gasped as he and Amelie tumbled into the Vault and the door disappeared.
* * *
* * *
The two of them were inside. Isaac had a profound desire to sleep.
“Come on,” Amelie said. She dragged him toward the table with the ledger since he was unable to put weight on his injured leg. “We’ve got to find the Elixir.”
Isaac fell against the table.
Amelie opened the ledger and leaned over it, scanning it quickly. “Isaac, there are instructions here. To become the Guardian, you need to recite that spell, like Leo said. It’s all right here, in detail. I’m going to find this elixir.”
“Right.” He leaned his head on the table.
“Elixir, elixir,” Amelie murmured, turning the pages. Turning and turning. “There. That’s it.”
She ran, disappearing in the low light of the Vault.
Isaac lay with his head on the table for what seemed like forever. The world had become very pleasant. Dreamy. His head swam and he couldn’t see anything any longer, just an inky black. Nothing mattered.
He took the chain from around his neck and placed the chain and pendant on the table next to his cheek. Amelie could do it. She could be the next Guardian. There was no reason he had to stay any longer. He pulled the Death’s Head watch and Adder Stone cuff from his pocket and put them on the table, too.
He felt Amelie’s hands on his face, warm and soft. “Hmm,” he said. “Take key. Be good. Be strong.”
“No,” she said. “You’re going to drink this.”
“’Kay.”
“Isaac, open your mouth.”
He tried, he really did, and then felt a cold liquid on his lips and he licked.
It hurt like nothing ever had before.
The pain shot from his mouth, down his throat, down through his whole body to his legs and then back. It was beyond pain—blinding, searing, hot and cold at once. His insides cramped, and he feared he would be sick and then all his muscles went rigid. He gasped, trying to suck in air, and sat bolt upright, eyes wide.
“Isaac?” said Amelie in a small frightened voice.
He saw her then, standing with a vial in one hand and the stopper in the other, her eyes full of concern, full of tears. He gasped, and then said hoarsely, “I think I’m going to live.”
When Amelie put down the vial and threw her arms around him, Isaac felt hot and cold and knew his face must be glowing red. “Um, thanks to you,” he said, looking at his hands. “Thank you.”
“Don’t ever do that again,” Ame said a little angrily. “You’re supposed to be the Guardian, not me.”
He reached down to the wound on his calf, surprised that it no longer hurt at all. “I heard you say something about instructions?”
Amelie took him by the hand and pulled him to the ledger. “Right here. Read it.”
In the ledger was the note from his father that Isaac hadn’t been able to finish reading the last time he was inside the Vault with Amelie. He started reading, out loud, from the beginning:
Isaac, if you have arrived here, you have already made great progress. This is the Vault, which holds magical artifacts. You’ve been led here by one of those artifacts, and they are both useful and dangerous. They must be guarded at all times, for there are some who would use them for terrible purposes, to win wars or even destroy the human race.
Your mother and I wish we could have trained you properly, but it was not to be. You must continue to piece this puzzle together.
You, Isaac, now hold the only key to the Vault.
Now that you are in Rookskill Castle, you should know that your next set of clues can be found in the library, in the volumes of Guardians’ diaries. They will tell you about the Vault and your team of Artifact Hunters.
Isaac looked up at Amelie. “That was Leo’s find,” he said.
“I want to be one,” Amelie said. “An Artifact Hunter.”
Isaac smiled and read on:
But there is one thing you must do to accept your role. And yes, it is yours to accept. I can no longer protect the Vault.
I’m writing this just before leaving the city of Pumapunku. As your mother and I travel again I will leave instructions for a future Guardian to tell you the words to bring the Vault and enter it. I will ask that Guardian to add here the spell that makes you Guardian, because it is too dangerous for me to put this down all at once.
And I will give you the key when we meet during the last time travel that your mother and I will make.
Once you’ve said the spell and assembled your team of Artifact Hunters, you must seek magical artifacts around the world before they are found by those with evil intentions, and lock the artifacts in the Vault. That is your future.
Magic can be unexpected, so we hope to see you again one day.
Your loving parents.
Isaac paused and cleared his throat, suddenly thick. Amelie put her hand on top of his. “Okay,” he said. “Here’s the next. This one’s from someone else.”
From my vantage point, we have just met, Isaac. From yours, I have been gone many centuries.
These are your final instructions. It was your father’s hope that by the time you read these words you would better understand the scope of your duty. He and your mother had no choice but to send you through peril, for it is the duty of the Guardian to go into danger to retrieve and protect artifacts. It is in times of war, in times of catastrophe, in times unsettled that magic is most powerful and most vulnerable to the forces of evil.
&n
bsp; The Guardian—you—must keep those artifacts safe. The Guardian—you—must collect your Artifact Hunters.
To become the Guardian, you must recite a simple spell. Standing inside the Vault with the key in your hand, you must say, “I accept” three times, and it is done.
From that moment, until you relinquish the duty to another, you are the Guardian as I have been in my time and your father will be in his. Being the Guardian will make you a target, but also give you extra magic.
I leave you in hope.
Vivienne
“She was there the last time I time traveled,” Isaac said to Amelie. “In Camelot.”
“Camelot.” Amelie’s eyes began to shine. “What I wouldn’t give to see that.”
“Maybe we can go there sometime,” Isaac said. “To the happy Camelot. When all this is over.”
The pendant lay on the table. Isaac picked it up in his fist. It was suddenly a heavy weight. He looked at Amelie and she nodded.
He clutched the pendant and said, “I accept.”
The Vault echoed with whispers. He heard again the familiar hum in his brain, and the pendant grew unexpectedly hot in his fist. Amelie’s eyes widened.
“I accept,” he said, softer.
This time the whispers grew to loud mumblings, some sounding welcoming, some threatening. Isaac’s hand tightened on the pendant, now icy cold. The hum grew to a zinging bolt of energy that coursed up his spine and back down, and he had to brace against the table with both arms.
He would become a target.
Be strong, Isaac Wolf.
He thought of Miss Rachel, sending him away when she was taken. Of Hypatia who sacrificed herself to save him, of the Incan man who showed him the Vault, of Mistress Vivienne who left him these words, all of them past Guardians. He thought about his parents and what they had sacrificed to leave him the information he needed, and how they’d feel if they could see him now.
Isaac squared his shoulders. “I accept!” he shouted, and his voice echoed endlessly through the long and shadowy Vault.
I accept! I accept! I accept!
CHAPTER 54
Moloch
When Isaac vanishes before him for the second time, Moloch curses his miserable stupidity. How could he let a child get away with that ridiculous wight? He’d magic the hutch away and follow the children himself, but one of them left a pile of cast-iron pans up against the door and he can’t get past those.
And the children have descended deep into the oldest part of this castle, into a bright place so rich with good magic that he doesn’t dare follow—and speaking of iron, he can feel it, so hot and bright that it lights up the scar on his cheek with searing pain.
When Isaac disappeared with the wraith and then reappeared seconds later, why, that was disturbing. Isaac must have used the Witch’s Watch to leave the wraith in some other time and place.
“Wouldn’t dare do that to me,” Moloch mutters. “Would. Not. Dare.”
Without warning, a pain pierces Moloch’s head like a driven spike.
Isaac—a child!—has just assumed the role of Guardian. Ach! He’s spoken the words. Now he’ll be even stronger.
The hideous creature on the floor behind Moloch twitches mechanically and makes a high-pitched whining noise as if she’s experiencing some electric shock.
“What’s wrong with you?” he says. He kicks her, to make her be still.
Moloch will make Isaac pay. He’ll fix these foolish children for good. He can’t stand losing to children, after all his searching.
The mechanical thing whines again.
“What in the world is that screech?” he yells.
He turns and waves his arms angrily over the creature, who stops twitching at once and falls as still as death. He steps over the body.
And then pauses and sniffs the air.
When Isaac took the wraith away through time and space, something changed. The powerful old magic that the wraith brought to Rookskill is beginning to fade. The creature on the floor has started falling to pieces, the vines have begun to wither and retreat, and even Daemon steps back as if he wants to slink away.
Enough, then.
Moloch raises his arms and calls on all fae magic. He’s been holding back, but he’s done with half measures. He’ll murder them all, any who get in his way, whether human or fae.
He’ll harvest their souls. Go full sluagh. He grins, his face twisting.
Becoming one with the Unseelie, forever a dark fae, forever harvesting human souls and preying on misery—becoming a true sluagh—requires a sacrifice. He pulls out a small knife made of glass.
Standing in this ancient castle with the magic that permeates the very stones, Moloch summons the most evil powers in the universe with a spell.
First he pierces his wrist and his fae blood drips onto the floor, hissing like acid. Then he raises the knife and cuts his face, a cut across his cheek to mirror the scar on the other side, and again his fae blood drips.
He is no longer a Seelie fae from any angle.
Moloch’s skin tightens; his wings grow larger. His heart shrinks and becomes hard, his remaining eye turns blood-red, his teeth sharpen to points. He was frightening before; he is terrifying now.
He wants humans and the Seelie to suffer.
As he says the last words of the spell, the room grows black as pitch and the wind whines through cracks and window jambs. The wraith’s creature on the floor stirs, Daemon perks up, and the forest resumes its assault.
Moloch grows huge, terrible, a dread being.
With Daemon padding behind, Moloch strides through the castle toward the great front door, pushing aside the forest as he goes, his footsteps thundering against the stone.
Just as he reaches the door, Moloch catches from the corner of his eye the glint of gold, and he finds his way into what had been a library. A golden man is stuck in a spell, still alive, though as solid as can be and entirely covered by vines and leaves and forest litter.
Well, well.
He’s part of this castle and that’s enough for Moloch, who waves his hand, muttering a spell.
The golden man doesn’t change outwardly, but Moloch knows he’ll never be the same, and he grins, a lopsided, warped, sharp-toothed grimace as the fresh blood on his cheek still drips. When all is finished, Moloch will come back and release this new monster, with some added embellishments, into the human world.
He turns and goes outside and calls through the storm to Wyvern, who gives an answering bellow and blast of fire.
CHAPTER 55
Isaac
1942
When Isaac and Amelie walked through the door and back into the armory, the others swarmed to them.
“Is everyone here okay?” Isaac asked. “Colin, are you all right?”
Colin nodded and whispered, “I want to find Canut.”
“We’ll find him,” Amelie said, patting his shoulder.
“What happened?” Kat asked. “Did you find the antidote?”
Isaac showed them his leg, and said, “If it wasn’t for Amelie—”
She interrupted him. “Isaac is Guardian now. The Guardian of the Vault.”
“Brilliant,” said Leo.
“And I’m going to be an Artifact Hunter,” said Amelie with a smile.
“What’s an Artifact Hunter? It sounds amazing,” Colin said. “Can I be one, too?”
“I am hoping we will all be part of the team, when we get through this,” Isaac said. “There’s a lot to talk about, but first we have one big problem still to deal with. Moloch.”
“Tell us about Moloch, again,” Kat said.
“He’s the one that spelled me,” Amelie said. “He’s horrible. Evil.”
“And he stole me,” said Colin. “I can still feel him reading me. My memories. Thoughts. Feelings.”
Colin shivered.
“Leo,” Isaac said, “what do you know about him?”
Leo shook his head. “He’s not in any of the books.”
Isaac said, “He told me he was banished by his own people to live with the Unseelie. It seems he has taken up Unseelie qualities.”
“Well, if he’s gone completely to the Unseelie side,” said Leo, “it won’t be easy to get rid of him. He could probably put us all in a spell and make us do anything he wanted. He might even, well, he might, um, take us. You know, like a true not-going-to-say-it. He might harvest us, as they say.”
The armory was still, silent, cold as death.
Leo cleared his throat. “Except maybe you, Isaac. Your gift might hold him off.”
“Maybe,” Isaac said. Maybe. “But if we stick together . . . I think we need a plan.”
“If you can help me, Isaac,” Kat said, “I might be able to work a spell over him. I could possibly undo some of his power. Or send him back to the Realm of Faerie.”
“I have an idea, too,” said Amelie. “I can work with the ghost knights. They can give us some protection.” She motioned to Bedwyr, whose visor flashed blue. The flash was echoed up and down the ranks of knights in the armory.
“I don’t have any ideas at the moment,” said Leo, and he shrugged.
“Leo,” said Isaac, “I have a feeling you will come up with something when we need you the most.”
Leo turned beet red.
“Well,” Colin said, “I’ve been there, being possessed by him, and even though I don’t want to go through that again, I’m with you. Maybe I can talk to that dire wolf.”
Isaac nodded at small Colin, standing up bravely.
Kat murmured, “We’ve got to try,” and Amelie murmured agreement.
“I’m in, too,” said Leo.
“Moloch does have a dragon,” Isaac said. “At least, the dragon appeared outside at the same time he did.”
“Dragon,” Colin said, looking brighter. “Ooh.”
“Ahem,” said Willow. “Not certain we can be of help.”
Lark murmured, “Nor I,” and danced in little bobbing movements beneath Willow, her full now blue skirts bouncing.