“Did you know him?”
“I haven’t even seen a picture of him. I guess it used to bother me, but when your mom cries every time you mention someone, you learn to shut up.”
Max plucked a strand of straw from the bale behind him and twisted it around his finger. “I don’t know… maybe it would have been better if my dad had disappeared like yours did. But even after all he’s done, I still kind of miss him.”
“It’s because you have a heart. Look, you can try to be as tough as you want, but the reason the Griffins would follow you into a nest of dragons is because we know you’d do anything for us. That’s what makes a great leader.”
Max heard his grandmother’s voice from outside. “Logan just called,” she announced. “He said to get some sleep. You have a training session tomorrow morning before school.”
“What time?”
“Four A.M.”
Max sighed. “If mechanical monsters don’t kill us, it looks like Logan will.”
15
SWAMP FIEND
Logan had been taking the Grey Griffins on monster-hunting expeditions for nearly a year now. Any complaining was met with extended training, so the Griffins learned to take their lumps. On this particular morning, they were knee-deep in the chilling waters of a marsh in the Old Woods. The moon was still out, and they couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of them. Worse yet, Max felt his boots sinking into the silt. He tried not to think about what might be lurking beneath the surface.
Charles Butterman, a local farmer, had complained that something had been dragging his livestock into the marsh behind his barn. He thought it was just a black bear, but Logan had a hunch. THOR scans reported the presence of a Swamp Fiend, and it was up to the Griffins to capture it before the monster did any more damage.
“What’s with all the textbooks?” complained Ernie as they trudged along. “I’m going to need a chiropractor after carrying them around.”
“Nobody said it was going to be easy,” Natalia reminded him.
Overhead, Sprig buzzed along in the form of a large dragonfly. She joined the Griffins on their monster-hunting expeditions from time to time, mostly out of curiosity. She could become distracted easily and disappear. Today, Max had made her promise to stay close.
“If you’re my Bounder, I need to know I can count on you,” he had told her, to which her reply had been: “Max doesn’t need to hunt silly monsters. Max doesn’t need his silly friends. We will be his only friend, if Max wants.” Still, she had promised.
Natalia turned to Max as they sloshed along through the swamp. “Have you heard anything from Brooke about those cards?”
“Too much chatter,” Logan said through the voice transmitter. The Griffins couldn’t see where he was, but he’d be there in case they got in over their heads. “You’re nearing the target. Look lively.”
Max held his fist in the air, signaling everyone to stop. Then he turned to Sprig. “Okay, just like we planned. You’re the bait, so give the Swamp Fiend something tasty to go after.”
“This is silly,” the spriggan maintained. “If Max wants to capture the Swamp Fiend, we will turn into a dragon and eat it.”
“You can’t. We need the practice,” Max answered.
“As you wish.” The spriggan yawned. With a flash, she turned into a butter-brown cow. Her great belly dipped low into the water as Max directed the rest of the team to take up a position behind her left flank. They settled in and waited.
It didn’t take long.
Just a few yards away the reeds rustled.
“Steady,” Max said, patting Sprig on the back. He reached down to activate his Codex Gauntlet. Iver’s mechanical intruder may have been immune to Skyfire, but Swamp Fiends were not.
“Get ready,” he called.
Harley nodded and set his weapon against his shoulder. For his latest invention, he had replaced the barrel of two rifles with lengths of oversized piping. Swamp Fiends were especially vulnerable to salt, so he converted them to fire salt charges the size of soda cans. He gave one to Natalia and saved one for himself.
A moaning figure rose from the swamp, just a few feet away. Made from muck and rotted weeds, it looked like a corpse and smelled worse. With its hooked hand, it reached out toward the rather deliciously presented cow.
In a flash, Sprig shifted back into a dragonfly and buzzed away. At the same time, Harley and Natalia fired their weapons. Mud flew as the salt struck home, sending the Swamp Fiend backward. Max raised his gauntlet to fire, but before he could take aim, the creature melted back into the swamp.
“That was a lot easier than I expected,” Ernie said. Then a muddy claw reached up from the water and took hold of his leg. With a yelp, Ernie was pulled under, leaving only a few bubbles behind.
“Go after him!” Logan shouted over the communicator. “I’m on my way!”
Max dove in after Ernie as Sprig took the form of an otter. She slipped under the surface to help her master. Max groped for his friend, but all he found were tangles of weeds.
He surfaced for air as Natalia screamed. Ernie was dangling from the Swamp Fiend’s grasp like a puppet. Then it opened its jaws to swallow him whole.
“Help me!” Ernie begged. His arms flailed wildly.
“Don’t move!” Harley shouted. Weapon in hand, he raced toward the terrible scene. Harley jumped out of the water, leapfrogging onto a rotten stump to bring the power of his salt cannon to point-blank range. As the crack of his launcher rang out, the fiend roared. Then the beast’s head exploded in a spray of glop that showered the Griffins.
Ernie plummeted into the water. The Swamp Fiend grasped at the place where its head used to be. Then Max watched tendrils of sludge start to expand around the fiend’s shoulders, quickly piecing together a jaw, then an ear.
“You have to be kidding me,” Harley shouted as he reloaded. “Its head can grow back?”
“Captivity orbs, Max!” Logan shouted as he splashed onto the scene.
Max lifted the gauntlet to release a crackling sphere of light from his palm. The ball of energy exploded across the creature’s chest, expanding until it swallowed the monster whole. With a blue pulse, it contracted to its original size, taking the Swamp Fiend as it returned to Max’s gauntlet. Then it disappeared.
“You cut that one a bit close,” Logan said, “but it was nice work. We’ll debrief later. Right now I need to get the lot of you back home so you can shower up before the Zephyr leaves the station.”
“Do you think we can make a quick stop at Hasty Hamburgers?” Ernie asked. He sat on a stump and emptied his helmet of swamp water. “They have the best egg, cheese, and bacon croissant.”
“Aye, you’ve earned it.”
“Ouch!” Natalia stumbled in the water, catching her fall at the last moment. “What was that?” She reached into the muck and pulled up a piece of twisted metal that was coated with rotting weeds.
“Let the swamp have it,” Logan advised.
“But what is it?”
“Something better left alone.” Logan’s voice was gruff as he started toward dry ground.
Natalia did as she was told, and the metal arm sank to the bottom of the marsh. As Max watched it disappear, he decided it was time to come clean.
“I know you’re going to get mad, but I have something to tell you,” Max said before launching into the story about finding the bunker.
“Have you told anyone else?” Logan asked after Max finished.
Max shook his head.
“Good. Keep it that way… at least for now.”
“I just wish we would have grabbed those blueprints,” Natalia lamented. “That Brimstone Key looked interesting.”
“What did you say?” Logan asked, turning toward her.
“The Brimstone Key? Why… have you heard of it before?”
Logan’s jaw clenched. “It’s classified, and so was that bunker. I don’t want to hear another word about it, understood?” With that he stormed ahead of them,
leaving the Griffins in confused silence.
16
GUILT BY ASSOCIATION
The Griffins raced into the Apprentice Wing and down the main corridor toward their lockers. Having worked the combinations on the mahogany doors, they stuffed their coats inside, grabbed their books, and headed up the three flights of stairs toward their Arithmetick classroom.
A stream of boys in grey uniforms jogged through the crowd of students at the same time. Xander Swift was in the front, and every time he called out a cadence, the rest of them echoed his words.
“What the heck is going on?” Ernie asked.
“Drills,” Natalia replied. “Don’t forget, this is a military academy.”
“Out of my way!” one of them shouted before he slammed into Ernie.
As Ernie fell to the ground, Max saw that the assailant was Angus McCutcheon, the same kid the Toad brothers had warned him about. As the rest of the uniformed boys disappeared down the hall, Angus remained, glaring down at Ernie.
“What’s your problem?” Harley called, catching Angus by the arm.
“I don’t have a problem,” Angus answered, pulling away from Harley’s grasp. He wasn’t tall, but he was thick as a bulldog. Angus also had a reputation for starting fights just for the fun of it. “Your little friend should pay attention to where he’s walking.”
“Actually, you were in his way,” Max said, stepping in front of Angus. “I think you owe him an apology.”
Ernie shook his head vehemently, declining any such need.
Angus turned to Max and snarled as a crowd began to gather. “Well, if it isn’t the Black Wolf pup.”
Max recoiled. “What are you talking about?”
“Like you don’t know,” Angus said as he stepped close enough for Max to smell his rank breath. “This is a Templar academy, not a werewolf training facility. Dog soldiers aren’t allowed. So how did you get in?”
“Leave him alone!” Natalia warned. “Max didn’t have anything to do with the Black Wolf Society.”
“And he has the Medal of Arthur to prove it, right?” Angus sneered.
Max caught sight of Logan from the corner of his eye. Then he saw Brooke, who was pushing her way through the crowd.
“Why don’t you turn around and walk away while you still can,” Harley warned.
Angus snorted. “This isn’t the minor leagues, Eisenstein. You don’t scare anybody here. Or can you turn into a werewolf, too?”
The bell rang, and the crowd reluctantly dispersed.
“Don’t worry, Sumner. We know how to handle dogs like you.” With that, Angus shoved past the Griffins to his next class.
“Does somebody want to tell me what that was all about?” Ernie asked as he rubbed his shoulder.
“Angus McCutcheon’s brother was killed by the Black Wolves,” Brooke explained. Then she grabbed Max by the arm. “Let’s go to class.”
17
THE DIFFERENCE ENGINE
The Arithmetick classroom was not particularly large, with enough desks to seat twenty students. Gold filigree bordered the leather surface of each desk. The windows were tall but narrow, and it was insufferably warm inside.
“Did you guys see what happened out in the hall?” Ernie asked as he took a seat next to the Toad brothers.
“Everybody did,” Todd replied, admiring a pencil that he had been sharpening into a stake. His theory was that you never could tell when you might run into a vampire.
“Look.” Ross turned to Max and lowered his voice. “Everybody knows Angus is a jerk.”
“I can’t really blame him.” Max sighed. “I’d be mad, too.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Brooke countered. “When my dad hears about what happened, Angus is going to get suspended.”
“Don’t say anything,” Max urged. “It’s only going to make things worse.”
Brooke hesitated before she sighed. “Fine, but it better not happen again.” Then, switching topics, she smiled. “By the way, I found a set of books in my dad’s office. They are called The Van Wyck Guide, and they catalog just about every Round Table card that was ever made.”
“Did you find any of our cards?” Max asked.
“Not yet. The only time my dad leaves his office is when he’s at school. I don’t even think he sleeps anymore. I’m nervous he might start asking questions if he finds me snooping around.”
“You see,” Ernie said, a little too loud for Max’s taste. “That’s why we need to make Brooke an official member of the Grey Griffins. She can be our spy on the inside.”
“On the inside of what?” Max asked, confused.
“You’re so funny,” Brooke said, winking at Ernie. “And whether or not I’m an official member of your secret organization, I’d spy for you any day.”
Ernie blushed.
The final bell rang, and Max turned to the front of the room as their Arithmetick instructor came in. Dr. Archimedes Thistlebrow was an odd-looking man. Shorter than Natalia, he had a ring of wild white hair, woolly eyebrows that seemed to have a life of their own, and pointed ears. His rectangular spectacles perched at the end of his long nose as he looked out over his new students.
“If you would allow me, I would like to begin today’s lesson by attempting an illusion for you,” he announced. “I’ve been practicing it for quite some time. I hope you don’t mind.”
Without waiting for a response, he pulled out a single sheet of white paper. “As you can see, there is nothing terribly extraordinary about this paper. But if you have vision…” In short order he had created an origami dove with wings that flapped when he pulled the tail. The class clapped politely. “As in life, if you aren’t careful, you can lose everything you’ve worked for in the blink of an eye.” In a flash, the dove burst into flames. “But we never give up hope,” he explained as he calmly clapped his hands together. Then, when he opened them back up, a living dove appeared. He walked over to release it out the window. “I’ve always liked happy endings.”
The class cheered.
“Now, before we begin today’s lesson, I have something I’d like to show you,” Dr. Thistlebrow announced. He pulled a sheet away from a table in the corner of the room, revealing several cases stacked up like gold bricks.
“For those of you who are not familiar with this particular machine, it is called a Babbage Difference Engine Tablet. If you prefer, you can simply call it a DE Tablet.” Dr. Thistlebrow lifted one of the cases and placed it on his desk. It resembled a small suitcase, padded in rich leather and adorned with brass fittings and scrollwork. He flicked a button, and four brass lion feet swung out to support it. “This device will be your primary tool for completing homework and conducting research here at Iron Bridge. With it, you will be able to communicate with fellow students and instructors, as well as a host of other possibilities. Treat it well.”
Dr. Thistlebrow motioned for the students to form a line. Max took one of the DE Tablets back to his desk and examined it. The screen was framed in brass, and the keyboard buttons were round with raised letters, like an old-fashioned typewriter. There were several toggle switches on the right-hand side of the screen, and a few dim lights flickered beneath small lenses.
Robert raised his hand sheepishly from the back of the room. “I think my Tablet is missing the power cord.”
Some kids snickered, and Dr. Thistlebrow offered an enthusiastic smile. “We haven’t used cords in over a century. Instead, we use Tesla Vaulting, a form of MERLIN Tech.” He went on to describe the technology in mind-numbing detail. Harley seemed to be the only one paying attention.
At the end of class, Dr. Thistlebrow let them have a few minutes to figure out their DE Tablets. Ernie was just pulling up his syllabus when the classroom grew quiet. Dr. Thistlebrow was standing over him.
“Mr. Tweeny, is it?”
Ernie gulped and nodded slowly.
“Dr. Trimble would like to see you after class. Apparently you’re in need of an examination.”
“What?�
�� Ernie exclaimed. “I already had my physical.”
Dr. Thistlebrow only smiled politely. “Be a good boy and find your way down after class.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Natalia said, as Ernie’s face turned pale.
“Yeah… nothing.” Ernie swallowed the lump in his throat.
18
DOC TRIMBLE
The medical office wasn’t easy to find. It had taken Ernie nearly ten minutes to navigate the arching bridges, not to mention the maze of stairs and corridors. Ernie held the examination request with the tips of his fingers. He was certain that Doc Trimble was going to harvest him for spare parts.
A worn voice spoke before Ernie could knock on the door. “Please come in.”
Ernie stepped into a laboratory that smelled like turpentine and peppermints. The ceiling was low, and sturdy shelves encompassed most of the wall space. They were loaded down with glass jars filled with strange powders and tiny creatures suspended in formaldehyde.
“How do you do. My name is Dr. Jonah Trimble,” a man said, reaching to shake Ernie’s hand.
Ernie hesitated. Dr. Trimble was seated in a wheelchair. His skin was sallow, and it sagged from his skeleton, giving him the appearance of a zombie. But it was the robotic left arm that threw Ernie off.
“Um… I’m…”
“Ernest Bartholomew Tweeny?” Doc Trimble asked as he removed his stovepipe hat to reveal a thinly covered pate of grey that matched his woolly sideburns. Catching Ernie’s eyes locked on his mechanical appendage, Doc snorted in amusement. “It’s my lucky arm. Lost it in the Great War,” he continued with a dark smile that curled at the corner of his mouth. “You should see the other guy.”
Ernie shivered as the old man lifted his prosthetic limb and flexed the fingers. All Ernie could think about was the eerie pile of robotic remains that they had found in the underground bunker.
“Now I hear you’ve had a run-in or two with those boys in the Black Wolf Society; is that right?” Doc pulled out Ernie’s chart and glanced briefly at the bottom. “Had a bad knock on your head, it appears.”
Grey Griffins: The Clockwork Chronicles #1: The Brimstone Key Page 7
