by Dean Lorey
“Duly noted,” Pinch replied. He turned to the crowd. “While we prepare for battle, are there any volunteers to escort the Guardian from the Nether and bring it here?”
“I will,” Charlie said quietly. “I’ve had some experience with him.”
“We all will,” Violet added, gesturing to Brooke and Theodore beside her. They both nodded. “The four of us will go and get the Guardian.”
“Excellent,” Pinch replied. “Do it now.”
“That’s a rather remarkable plan,” the Headmaster said.
The Guardian sat beside her, looking healthy and powerful. It was so powerful, in fact, that Charlie was shocked at how easy it had been to return to the BT Graveyard—the Guardian’s aura of protection extended even farther than before. Now there was a thin area around the Graveyard where portaling was possible but no Nethercreatures could enter.
“It’s so good to see you again,” the Guardian murmured. Charlie was happy to hear the dying rattle gone from the creature’s voice—it still spoke softly, but strongly. “I’ve missed you all so much. Will you hold me? I would very much like to be held.”
The pull of the Guardian was even more powerful now that it had regained its strength, and Charlie had to focus strongly to avoid touching it. He glanced around to see that the others were struggling as well.
“You see how much more difficult it is to resist touching the Guardian now,” the Headmaster said. “Bringing him into a crowd of humans is an enormously dangerous proposition.”
“That’s what the Director said,” Charlie replied.
“Did he? Well, for once, he is correct.” She got up and began to pace about the Guardian’s warship. “Leaving here and taking him with us is quite a risk. On the other hand, just in the past few hours I returned two children back to their homes on Earth—the monstrous attack earlier today had given them the most terrible nightmares. As you might expect, they were abducted and brought here by creatures of the Nether in hopes that they would kill the Guardian.” She shook her head sadly. “There is nowhere truly safe for him now.”
“So you agree that we should bring him to the lair of the Named?” Violet asked.
The Headmaster sighed. “My brain says yes, but my heart says no.”
Charlie felt exactly the same way, but every time he had followed his heart—rescuing the child from the Nether who turned out to be Slagguron, for instance—it had led to disaster. He was determined to follow the logical path this time.
“The potential benefit is huge,” the Headmaster continued, “but taking the Guardian to Earth and freeing Tyrannus from the Nether is a colossal risk. I just don’t know…”
“Well, Pinch seemed very sure,” Charlie said, gently prodding her.
“Did he, Mr. Benjamin?” The Headmaster smiled knowingly, and Charlie immediately felt like a clumsy fool for even trying to manipulate the wise woman. “Pinch’s fortunes have changed rather dramatically in the past few hours, haven’t they?”
“Definitely,” Theodore said. “You wouldn’t believe what’s going on down there—he’s like a hero to everyone. It’s crazy-land, trust me.”
“Oh, I do. Unfortunately, the higher you go, the farther you have to fall. That is the danger of success, and it is why most people will go to great and sometimes terrible lengths to protect it.”
Like the Director, Charlie thought, but he didn’t say that out loud.
“So what’s it going to be, Headmaster?” Brooke asked. “Should we bring him?”
The Headmaster considered, then turned to the Guardian. “What do you think, Hank? Would you like to take a trip?”
The Guardian smiled. “I’m so lonely here. I would like to make some friends.”
And so it was decided.
“TRICKERY!” Tyrannus screeched, flying high above Charlie and company as they escorted the Guardian out of reach of the Anomaly so that they could portal away. “You’re up to something evil, Headmaster—old Tyrannus can smell it on you, even from this far.”
“We have no more quarrel with you,” the Headmaster replied. “Once we are gone, the Anomaly will be unprotected and you can escape. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”
“Of course!” the golden bat shrieked. “But old Tyrannus knows what you did to Verminion. He could see it with his glittery, ghastly toy!”
The Artifact of the Nether on the Named beast’s finger strobed with red light from the four images engraved on it.
“You are NASTY creatures, full of deceit and wickedness, but you will not fool old Tyrannus. He knows what you’re trying to do with that poisonous little Guardian, where you want to BRING him, and now so do the others!”
They can see us, Charlie suddenly realized. He turned to the Headmaster.
“A long time ago, when I wore Barakkas’s bracer, I was able to look through the eyes of the other three Named who were also wearing Artifacts. If Tyrannus can see us here with the Guardian, so can Barakkas and Slagguron.”
“We must hurry then,” the Headmaster said grimly, “and attack before they have a chance to respond.”
They raced through the Nether as quickly as the Guardian could run on its short, stubby legs. Unfortunately, they couldn’t touch it to pick it up and carry it. As soon as they were out of range of the Anomaly, the Headmaster created a portal, and they all leaped through into the heart of the remains of the Nightmare Division, where they quickly reunited with their colleagues.
The moment the portal closed behind them, the Guardian’s aura in the Nether faded and, with a crazy cackle of triumph, Tyrannus the Demented sailed over the ruined ships of the BT Graveyard and shot straight up and into the churning red disc of the Anomaly.
“FREE!” he shrieked with a gale of laughter.
Seconds later, he used his great, golden wings to propel him up through the depths of the cold Atlantic before finally exploding out of the water and into the beautiful blue skies of Earth above.
After an eternity of waiting, Tyrannus, the Fourth Named, had escaped from the Nether.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE FROZEN WASTES
High in the vast, frozen wasteland of the Himalayas, hidden from the prying eyes of humans, the icy lair of the Named was alive with activity. Sleet fell through a giant hole in the ceiling of the massive cavern while a blizzard raged outside, turning the sky above into an impenetrable blanket of white.
“Hurry!” Barakkas thundered at the hundreds of Nethercreatures that swarmed at his feet as he and Slagguron raced across the slippery blue sheets of ice covering every inch of their remote base of operations. “The humans are coming. We must leave immediately!”
“Why are you so fearful of them?” Slagguron asked. “Are we not Lords of the Nether?”
“I’m not fearful of them—it’s the Guardian I fear. I felt the touch of that horrible monster a long time ago, and I’m not eager to feel it again.”
“Even with the Guardian, the humans can hurt us only if they know where we are,” Slagguron reasoned. “We have no reason to think they do.”
“We have no reason to think they don’t.”
Suddenly, Barakkas stopped, noticing something:
The red light that issued from the Artifact of the Nether clamped around Slagguron’s middle was reflected brilliantly in the polished ice of the cavern wall, but something else pulsed in the reflection as well.
A tiny spot of blue.
“What’s this?” Barakkas growled, bending down to inspect the source of the light. As soon as he saw the tracking device that Theodore had planted on Slagguron’s metal belt, his orange eyes went red with rage. “They’ve been tracking you, you fool!” He grabbed the tiny mechanical object—in his fist, it was no larger than a grain of sand—and crushed it.
“That is unfortunate,” Slagguron said with a grimace. “You are right. We must leave now, before it’s too late.”
But it already was.
Purple portals snapped open across the lair like fireworks, allowing elite Nether
mancers and Banishers to pour through—among them, Charlie and his friends.
“Do not touch the Guardian!” the Headmaster yelled at the other humans as she ushered the tiny, frail creature into the vast cavern.
“NO!” Slagguron shrieked as soon as he laid eyes on it.
Unimaginable pain suddenly slammed through his brain, and he collapsed on the ice next to Barakkas, who was already foaming at the mouth in agony. The hundreds of Class-5 Nethercreatures around them stumbled to the frozen ground as well, completely immobilized.
“It worked!” Charlie said, staring in awe at the creatures that lay scattered around them, writhing in pain. “The Guardian laid them out!”
“Sweet!” Theodore shouted. He extended his open palm to the Guardian. “Give me five, Hank!”
The Guardian raised its hand.
“Mr. Dagget…,” the Headmaster warned.
“Right. No touching. Sorry, Hank.” Theodore quickly withdrew his palm.
Pinch, meanwhile, walked through the lair like a conquering general, surveying the hundreds of deadly but now powerless creatures before him with smooth satisfaction. “Excellent. All is moving according to plan, just as I said it would.”
He shot a glance at Director Drake, who watched the proceedings with a scowl, arms folded. “Do not be so confident, Pinch. Even the best of plans have a weakness.”
“Absolutely true, which reminds me…” He turned to Charlie. “Please escort the Guardian out of the way, somewhere safe, so that we can begin.”
“Wouldn’t he be safer here with us?” Charlie asked. “Where we can keep an eye on him?”
Pinch shook his head. “Creatures of the Nether cannot hurt him—only humans can do that. We cannot take a chance that someone might touch him, accidentally or otherwise. As you well know, the urge is nearly impossible to resist.”
“Okay.” Charlie kneeled down beside the delicate creature. “Will you come with me, Hank? I’ll take care of you.”
“Yes, Charlie.” The Guardian followed him toward a winding pathway that led out of the main chamber.
“Oh, Mr. Benjamin,” the Headmaster called after him. Charlie turned back. “Return quickly please—without delay.” Her expression was stern and knowing.
Charlie nodded. “No problem.” Even the Headmaster was afraid that he might be overcome by the desire to lay a hand on the gentle creature. They left the main chamber and walked into a small, dark vestibule at the end of an icy hallway.”
“Do you think you’ll be okay here?”
The Guardian nodded, its wide eyes shining brightly in the gloom. “I think so. You are kind.”
“Thank you. So are you.”
“Will you hold me? It would be so wonderful to be held.”
“I can’t. You know that.”
The Guardian sighed in a remarkably human way. “I know. It just would be so nice for once.”
Charlie smiled at him.
“Mr. Benjamin!” a voice rang out, echoing down the icy hallway. It was the Headmaster. “We are waiting!”
“Just stay here, Hank,” Charlie said, “and when it’s all over, I’ll come back and get you.”
The Guardian nodded. “Be safe, Charlie Benjamin.”
“You, too.”
Charlie took one last look at the gentle creature—so small against the vastness of the dark, icy walls that surrounded it—and then headed back to the main chamber to begin the process of destroying the creatures of the Nether.
“I hate this,” Violet whispered as the Banishers and Nethermancers spread out across the cavern, waiting on Pinch’s command to begin the assault.
Charlie knew what she meant. It was one thing to kill a monster while it was attacking you—that was self-defense, after all—but it was another thing entirely to kill it as it lay there, defenseless.
It might not be wrong, but it sure felt wrong.
“I know exactly what you mean,” Charlie whispered back. “I get that it’s necessary—I mean, after what happened today at the zoo, it’s hard not to—but it just doesn’t seem right, somehow.”
Violet nodded in agreement. “At least Theodore seems happy.”
Charlie glanced over at him. Sure enough, the tall, skinny boy did seem happy. He was clearly excited to be there in the presence of his father, ready and eager to demonstrate his skill. Of course, as a Nethermancer, he wasn’t the one who had to land a killing blow.
“Nethermancers, listen please,” Pinch said walking among them. He wore a parka over his T-shirt to blunt the biting cold, and it dwarfed his small, boyish body. “With the exception of the two Named, you will systematically open a portal beneath all of the remaining Nethercreatures and return them to the 5th Ring.”
“You don’t want to kill them?” William asked, his breath coming out in great, frozen clouds.
“Of course not. You know we kill only when there is no alternative.”
Charlie could easily remember the exact day in Beginning Banishing when Rex taught them about the Rule of 3’s. For every monster you killed on Earth, three of them immediately spawned in the Nether. However, if you simply returned them to the Nether without killing them, no new monsters would spawn. That was the whole reason for taking the trouble to Banish the Nethercreatures back through portals to begin with, even though it would have been much easier just to destroy them outright.
“I know the rule,” William replied, annoyed. “This isn’t my first day at the dance. But this isn’t the time for delicacy. Now that you got us all here, we need to move fast and hard and get this thing done for good.”
“We will,” Pinch said. “But we must also be smart. Don’t worry, William, you’ll get to quench your thirst for blood today. We may be returning the regular monsters to the Nether, but the Named must still be destroyed.”
The Named.
Charlie glanced over at Barakkas and Slagguron, curled up in pain, unable to move. He knew that they were vicious and deadly and would kill every human in the place if they had half a chance…but there was still something so pathetic about the way they were just lying there, spread out across the ice, defenseless. It was clear what had to be done, and yet—Charlie didn’t want to do it. He just wished he could shut his eyes tightly and disappear.
Everything was moving way too fast. He was still just a student, for crying out loud! All his friends were. The good times he’d had with them—exploring the nooks and crannies of the Nightmare Academy; swimming in the warm, clear ocean beyond; and having playful swordfights on the beach—now seemed like a distant, hazy memory.
This was serious business, time to grow up, as Mama Rose said—and he didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
“All right, Nethermancers,” Pinch yelled, his voice echoing across the massive cavern. “Let’s begin!”
With grim determination, they began opening fiery purple portals beneath the crippled Class-4 and -5 monsters lying on the icy floor of the lair, allowing them to fall harmlessly into the Nether. Theodore easily kept up with the adult Nethermancers. Charlie noticed him glance over at his father for some sign of acknowledgment or approval. After a couple of tries, he finally caught his dad’s eye.
William shot him a wink.
Good, Charlie thought. Finally.
As the Nethermancers went about their business, Violet turned to Brooke. “Why don’t you get on out there?”
“Me? What are you talking about?”
“To help them.”
Brooke seemed confused. “How? You know I can’t portal anymore.”
“You can, Brooke. I know you can, and so do you. You’ve done it before. Now go on.”
“Well…okay. I’ll try.”
Unsure, Brooke walked out and struggled to open a portal. It didn’t come quickly or easily, but to her astonishment she finally managed to open a small one beneath a Class-4 Acidspitter.
It fell soundlessly into the Nether.
With a grin, Brooke glanced back at Violet, who gave her a supportive smil
e. Newly confident, Brooke went back to work opening another portal while Charlie and the Headmaster joined Tabitha and the rest of the Nethermancers as they solemnly continued to return the remaining monsters to the Nether. There seemed to be a million of them. Everyone was so focused on the task at hand that no one even noticed someone was missing from the main cavern:
The Director of the Nightmare Division was gone.
The Guardian saw the long shadow approach from the hallway, creeping along the icy walls like an oil slick.
“Hello,” the gentle creature said. “Have you come to see me?”
“Yes,” Director Drake whispered, his eyes pools of black in the dim light.
“Are you a nice man?”
“I am.”
“Good,” the Guardian said. “It’s so lonely here. And so cold. Will you hold me?”
“I will.”
The Director enfolded the small creature in his long arms, pressing his bare cheek against the top of its fragile head.
“Oh, thank you,” the Guardian said, smiling, as color began to leach out of its thin skin. “It’s so nice to be held after so long—living in the cold and the dark of the Nether. Are you a kind man, like Charlie Benjamin?”
The Director didn’t answer.
The Guardian’s wide, white eyes began to grow yellow as sharp ribs revealed themselves at odd angles in its sinking chest. Its breathing became shallow and ragged.
“Are you my friend?” the Guardian asked, a little tentatively now.
A cold wind blew down the frigid hallway as the blizzard raged high overhead. The Director, silent as a tomb, squeezed the tiny creature more tightly, pressing the poison of his skin against it and holding it there, even as it started to struggle.
A terrible awareness began to dawn in the dying creature’s eyes.
“Oh my,” it croaked softly. “You’re not my friend, are you?”
