Grey Griffins: The Clockwork Chronicles #1: The Brimstone Key

by Derek Benz; Jon S. Lewis

  “They are duplicating by scavenging every metal object in their path!” warned a teacher as he swung a chair at a cloud of brass insects.

  There was a scream.

  “They’ve got stingers full of poison,” a student shouted as everyone rushed for the exits with the swarm on their heels.

  “We’ve got to buy them time to get out of here!” Max shouted. He had ignited his Skyfire, and none of the mechanical insects seemed interested in approaching.

  Glancing up, Max could see that Wangai, Ms. Butama’s Bounder spriggan, had transformed into a fiery phoenix and was burning a path through the hornets. Those that didn’t melt were eaten.

  At the same time, Kenji’s drake took flight, mounting an aerial counterattack. Its armored hide was too thick for the hornet stingers, and it tore into them with fury, leaving a rain of scrap metal in its wake.

  The hornets quickly rebuilt themselves and took to the air again as the crowd pressed against the exits in a screaming mass. One after another, people collapsed from the poisonous stings. Picking up an axe, Xander rushed to the radiators. With several blows, he cracked open the pipes, releasing great clouds of steam into the air. The mist rolled over the auditorium, providing cover for those trying to escape.

  Robert, unsure of which exit to take, had been knocked to the ground by the crush of humanity. He considered resuming his flight, until he heard the buzzing of the clockwork swarm overhead. Rethinking his plan, he dove under a nearby table in hopes that the swarm would move on.

  A moment later, a hand reached down to help Robert to his feet. He took it, but he was shocked to find Smoke on the other end.

  “Fancy meeting you here, Hernandez,” Smoke said with a smile, keeping Robert’s hand locked in his grasp.

  “You’re the one who took Stephen and Becca, aren’t you?”

  “Guilty.” Smoke nodded. “Now, if you don’t mind, there’s someone who’s really looking forward to meeting you.”

  “Get away from Robert!” Max called as he raced toward Smoke.

  Robert lunged for a nearby chair in desperation and started to transmute. His skin turned to metal and his feet became one with the stone floor. Under normal circumstances, he would have been immovable, but Smoke didn’t play by the rules. As Max dove at the boys, there was a flash of black smoke. They were gone, taking the chair and part of the floor with them.

  The Grimbots suddenly opened fire with their energy cannons. Explosions rumbled through the room and chunks of plaster and chandeliers fell from the ceiling as the roof threatened to fall on everyone.

  Angus McCutcheon jumped onto the stage, picked up a table, and smashed it against the back of one of the machines. The wood shattered harmlessly against its metal exoskeleton. The clockwork turned, its red eyes flashing at the boy, before it aimed its cannon at Angus’s face.

  “No!” Max yelled.

  As the Grimbot fired, Xander appeared, plowing into Angus like a locomotive. Both boys hit the stage just as the spot where Angus had been standing was blown into a cloud of debris. In a split second, Xander had rolled to his feet. “Max, your Skyfire!”

  Max nodded and opened up on the Grimbot, enshrouding the machine in crackly blue energy. It only managed to slow the Grimbot down, but it gave Xander and Angus enough time to get away safely.

  The Grimbot turned on Max, who had no place to go. Luckily, Max had powerful friends. Even as the metal monster approached, Throckmorton appeared, tackling the clockwork. The stone gargoyle battled the machine as the combatants tore into each other with relentless fury, destroying everything around them in their struggle.

  Max spotted Natalia and Ernie hiding behind one of the overturned tables. “Go find Grandma and get her out of here!”

  Natalia nodded. She ducked away, as one of the stinger drones dove at her from above. She smashed it with Ernie’s helmet and then disappeared into the crowd with Ernie close behind.

  Max watched the second Grimbot jump off the stage to engage THOR agents that had rushed into the room. The machine raced down the main aisle of the auditorium, barreling through the crowd as one of the agents fired what looked like a harpoon gun. A magnetic projectile raced across the expanse before sticking to the clockwork’s chest. Waves of electricity pulsed over the Grimbot’s metallic hide, paralyzing it. Then, like a felled tree, it crashed to the ground, where a second agent took a sledgehammer to the Grimbot’s head, tearing it from its shoulders.

  “One down!” the agent shouted. He was immediately attacked by the swarm of clockwork hornets and lost from view.

  “Look out!” Max heard Logan cry.

  He spun around in time to see the first Grimbot looming over him.

  Then stone hands reached up from behind. With a powerful twist, a battered Throckmorton wrenched the clockwork’s head from its shoulders, and the lifeless machine crashed to the floor.

  Suddenly the room was filled with a brilliant light. All at once the clockwork hornets froze in midair, sparked like firecrackers, and then fell to the ground in a shower of tiny lifeless bits.

  Max raised his eyes to find Baron Lundgren looking at him. He was standing in the midst of the inanimate metal insects. Silver bolts crackled at the end of his cane.

  “Where is Robert?” the Baron asked, his voice taut with concern.

  “Gone,” Max said. “Smoke got him.”

  “God help us all…”

  49

  DECISIONS

  When the Griffins entered Cain’s office, they found it in a shambles. Books and papers littered the floor. Slashed oil paintings hung askew, chairs were knocked over, and the drawers of the desk stood open. Standing near the Baron were several teachers, along with Logan.

  “What happened here?” Max asked, as he walked up to his bodyguard.

  “Before he showed up, Smoke teleported here to Cain’s office, ransacked it, and let loose a few Grimbots. That’s why we were a little late getting to the auditorium.” Logan patted Max on the shoulder. “Sorry about that, Grasshopper.”

  “Is Brooke okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Cain said. “As for Aidan, we have a team hunting for him now.”

  “Did you send Dr. Thistlebrow?” Ms. Merical asked. Her face was still flushed from the skirmish.

  “Of course,” Baron Lundgren responded. “Nobody can track a teleporter like Archimedes. He will find Aidan and Robert, I’m certain. I only hope he can intercept them before they reach Von Strife.” Cain turned to Logan. “What is the latest on the anti-venom serum?”

  “Doc Trimble is making good progress. No deaths so far.”

  Max shivered at the thought of how close his grandmother had come to being stung. She didn’t seem particularly unsettled by the incident, but she also didn’t argue when Logan asked if she’d like to be driven home.

  “How did Smoke get in here?”

  “I made the mistake of bringing Aidan to my office to discuss what happened in the Ward Forest. Unfortunately, it appears that’s exactly what he wanted. Afterward, he was able to teleport inside.”

  “What was he after?” Natalia asked.

  “This,” the Baron said, pulling out a familiar leather-bound book before setting it on the desk. “Fortunately, I kept it with me today, rather than leaving it in my office.”

  “Lord Saxon’s diary?” Max said, as he looked at the book that Logan had secured from a tomb in Iceland the year before.

  “Exactly,” Cain answered. “Saxon had a reputation as an eccentric, but he also had a knack for recovering rare antiquities that nobody else in the world could find.”

  “The man was insane,” Dean Nipkin interjected.

  “Perhaps, but that is hardly pertinent at the moment,” Cain said. “He was, however, one of the most intelligent minds that this world or any other has known.”

  “Didn’t Lord Saxon find the Seal of Solomon?” Natalia asked, referring to a legendary ring that could imprison dark spirits.

  “We believe so,” Cain replied. “But the Templar r
elied on Lord Saxon to do more than simply find important artifacts. He hid them so that they would never end up in the wrong hands. This diary contains his coded maps to those artifacts.”

  “So what was Von Strife after?” Nipkin asked.

  “If I’m not mistaken, Otto was looking for a map that would lead him to something called the Brimstone Key.”

  The Griffins looked at one another.

  “Yes,” Cain continued. “The same Brimstone Key that you read about in the underground bunker.”

  “Why would he need a key?” asked Natalia.

  “To retrieve his daughter from the Shadowlands,” the Baron replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “As in the home of Oberon? The Shadow King?” exclaimed Ernie. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “It was an accident. Von Strife’s experiments with transferring souls into clockworks were very promising. Feeling that time was of the essence, he brought Sophia, his daughter, into the lab for the ultimate test of his brilliance. He succeeded in removing her soul from her body. Unfortunately, the clockwork malfunctioned, leaving the soul no place to go. When that happened, the homeless soul, being part faerie, was pulled into the Shadowlands. She has been there ever since.”

  “Why not give him the key so he can find his daughter?” Natalia asked.

  Dean Nipkin looked horrified. “If you open the gate, you cannot be certain of closing it again… at least not before Oberon breaks through. What is waiting on the other side is, I assure you, far worse than Von Strife or any nightmare you’ve ever conceived. The gate must remain closed.”

  Cain nodded. “Von Strife’s mania for rescuing his daughter would put the world at risk. Already he has reinitiated his clockwork army—which, like before, he no doubt plans to use when he marches into the Shadowlands to reclaim Sophia’s soul. And, judging from the abductions of Stephen and Becca, and now Robert, we have to assume his experiments on changelings have resumed.”

  Max felt a chill run up his arms.

  “Why would he take an army to go get his daughter?” Natalia pressed.

  Cain smiled faintly. “You don’t think Oberon would just allow someone to walk into his kingdom and take one of his faerie souls, do you?”

  “Where is the key, then?” Ms. Merical asked. “Far from here, I hope.”

  “It was given to Lord Saxon’s care, and if we are lucky, it remains hidden,” Cain replied. “However, we need to consider the Bishop. His database of knowledge is vast, and I fear he may be the one other person who knows where the Brimstone Key is hidden.”

  “Then we need to reach the Bishop before Von Strife does,” Logan remarked. “I’ll put together a team to head to Scotland first thing in the morning.”

  “Yes,” replied Cain, sounding tired. “But if you fail to reach him in time, we must consider alternatives. Lord Saxon’s diary has the exact details of where the Brimstone Key can be found. We must use it to locate the key before Von Strife does.”

  Logan shook his head. “I’ve seen the page in the journal that you are talking about—the section on the Brimstone Key. It’s encrypted. And from what I’ve heard, Saxon’s code can’t be broken except by Saxon himself. And he’s dead, trust me.”

  “I concur. However, he never worked alone.”

  Dean Nipkin shook her head. “Most of Alaric Saxon’s students have been hunted down and murdered over the years. What about Percival Pickering? The poor man was over a hundred years old and had dementia. He couldn’t read any of those codes if his life depended on it, but only last week he was fished out of the Hudson with a block of cement chained around his neck. Anyone involved with Saxon’s diary was cursed. Thankfully, there is no one left.”

  “That’s not entirely true.”

  “Please tell me you aren’t thinking of Obadiah Strange!” The dean was aghast.

  “There is no longer an alternative.”

  PART THREE

  BRIMSTONE

  50

  A DANGEROUS PATH

  Obadiah Strange was an enigma. Having graduated from Stirling with honors, he went on to become a revered member of the natural science and alchemical community. Yet it was his burning ambition that earned the attention of Lord Alaric Saxon. After a chance meeting, the two forged an alliance—or at least as close as two men of their selfish nature could manage. Saxon became the teacher; Strange, his scheming apprentice.

  The two never seemed to agree, yet despite their differences, their accomplishments were legendary. There were more articles written about these two daring men than almost anyone in recent history. However, at the height of their prestige and celebrity, Strange resigned his position and retreated to the Himalayas, vowing to never return. That was nearly seventy years ago, and true to his word, Strange had not been seen since.

  “It would be best if Throckmorton led the expedition,” Cain had explained. “It must be a small group. No soldiers. No one that would alarm Strange. Max and Agent Thunderbolt will go as well.”

  Ernie had argued against the idea. For one, he and the gargoyle didn’t get along. For another thing, he was afraid of heights. The Baron was resolute, however. Apparently he believed that Ernie was actually the most important member of the team, though he refused to elaborate.

  “Just be yourselves,” the Baron had instructed. “And, with luck, Obadiah may consider our plight.”

  They traveled most of the way by portal, and soon the three of them stood on a mountainside as strong winds blew swirling clouds of snow into the sky. As a creature of living stone, Throckmorton was immune to the weather. Max and Ernie were a completely different story, though. Despite their identical white parkas, wool underwear, shell pants, and all the other layers that were making it hard for them to walk, the cold seemed to find a way inside. Both boys were also equipped with Rarified Air Respiratory Systems. They wore masks over their faces, with tubes that led to an oxygen chamber. Without these regulators, the lack of oxygen would kill them in a matter of minutes.

  Throckmorton cut a path through the deep snow as he trudged ahead. Yet even with the aid of their trekking poles to help lift them out of the snow, Max and Ernie struggled. They traveled for hours before the gargoyle decided to take refuge under a massive overhang littered with icicles. It was time for the boys to eat. Throckmorton broke out a kerosene stove and boiled some snow in a pot. It wasn’t long before he had a stew with dried vegetables and meats boiling. Max and Ernie gladly accepted a bowl and sipped the warm broth, though they had to replace their regulators after every bite.

  “Eat slowly,” the gargoyle warned. “Your body is still adjusting to the altitude, and your digestive tract may struggle.”

  Ernie didn’t bother listening as he downed a second bowl, two chocolate bars, a bag of trail mix, and a stick of beef jerky. A few moments later, he clutched his stomach. “I’m going to vomit into my regulator,” he groaned.

  The gargoyle melted more snow for drinking water. After the boys had their fill, it was time to ascend the face of the overhang. The climb was well over fifty feet from top to bottom, and Ernie was in no hurry to make it.

  “I don’t get it,” he said. “Me and Max are just kids. We don’t even shave yet. So how come Cain sent us up here? If I was in charge, I would have sent a bunch of THOR agents.”

  “Strange needs to see the faces of those who could perish if he remains on the sidelines,” Throckmorton said evenly.

  With that, the gargoyle tethered himself to a rope and sunk his claws into the wall, scaling the icy surface like a spider. Along the way, he pounded metal spikes into the compacted snow so that Max and Ernie had something to grasp as they climbed.

  “You go first,” Max said after he helped tether the lead rope through carabineers on Ernie’s harness. Then he checked Ernie’s boot spikes. Losing traction would be dangerous. If the rope failed to hold, it could be deadly.

  Ernie grabbed hold of the lead rope before sinking the spikes into the wall. Hand over hand, he pulled himself up, checking freque
ntly to make sure the safety rope never broke free. Though he was relatively safe, the climb was still terrifying. Each step was slow and the wind threatened to tear him from the wall with each gust.

  When he was about halfway up, a great rumble shook the mountainside. Ernie looked up to see a wall of ice and snow rolling toward him. With a cry, he flattened himself against the wall and closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t be torn away. The roar was tremendous, but thankfully it passed.

  When Ernie dared to open his eyes, he found Throckmorton standing at the top with snow clinging to his shoulders. Then Ernie looked down and saw that Max had survived the avalanche as well.

  “Come,” the gargoyle said after Max scaled the wall. “Daylight is fading, and we don’t want to be caught out in the open once the sun goes down. The temperatures will freeze the blood in your veins.”

  Without another word, he led them through deep snow as daylight gave way to dusk. The terrain was a monotonous blur of white. Max actually thought he was hallucinating when he caught sight of a series of stone pillars that lined the horizon.

  “Do you see that?” he asked through the regulator.

  “Yeah,” Ernie replied. “What are they?”

  “Monuments to mark those who have fallen,” Throckmorton explained.

  “This is a graveyard?” Ernie asked, as he imagined zombies wreathed in ice rising up from the snow.

  “Yes,” the gargoyle responded. “But you needn’t fear, for the dead slumber in peace.”

  The team continued until they came to the lip of a deep chasm that cut through a river of ice. As Max looked over the edge, he couldn’t see the bottom. On they trekked over a vast wasteland of ice and rock, taking few breaks. Then, with his fingers frozen and his nose feeling like a block of ice, Max found himself standing before two tattered flags that snapped in the mountain air.

  “Welcome to the lair of Obadiah Strange,” Throckmorton called out over the howling wind.