“You mean songbirds?” Derek asked.
“Yes. Treasure Island also has a sizable watch of nightingales. I wouldn’t be surprised if their birdsongs were composed of the musical notes C and B sharp.”
Derek smiled. “Impressive. Ever thought about being an ornithologist?”
Caitlin interjected, “Why are those musical notes important?”
“The frequency of the seven musical notes equate to the seven wavelengths of color.”
“I never knew that,” Caitlin said. She sat up, excited by where Tin Man was going with this.
“The C and B sharp notes just happen to correspond to the color green,” Tin Man said.
Caitlin fist-pumped the air.
Nice work, brainiac.
The Tin Woodman continued, “Perhaps this is the nightingales’ way—or nature’s way—of crying out. Of compensating for the lack of the green wavelength in the sun’s rays. It’s the only logical explanation as to why a delicate bloom of life has occurred on those two islands. “
Caitlin jumped to her feet. “Tin Man, I don’t give a whoop-de-doo if you think you don’t know how to get us to Neverland. This is your world, kemosabe. Find a friggin’ way.”
“I can only tell you why we need to go there,” he said matter-of-factly. “I cannot tell you how to get there. It would be a case of the blind leading the blind. By the way, my stomach’s growling.”
“Mine too,” she said.
Not good.
“And I’m thirstier than a salmon in the Sahara.”
Panic time.
“Tin Man, do something! Wing it if you have to. We can’t just—”
“Caitlin, I already told you, even if I attempt—”
Derek interrupted the back and forth with another riff on his harmonica. Then he leaped to his feet. “Young Cait, keep your hair on. Tin Man, put a sock in it. And both of you, calm bloody well down! I know you’re both hungry. And I know those black-feathered fiends are hunting us down right now. But I know something else as well.”
“What?” Caitlin asked.
The campfire flames twinkled in his eyes like glowing twin embers. His grin was downright wicked. “I know how to get to Neverland.”
Jeepers creepers!
Gruncle Derek waved a finger, admonishing both of them. “But never, ever, tell a soul what I’m about to tell ya.”
CHAPTER Twenty-Seven
Old ex-rocker Gruncle Derek refused to elaborate on his mysterious secret till he fully established his whereabouts and charted a course to their destination. Getting there was a priority.
“Where are we headed?” Caitlin asked as they traveled over a wide stretch of rough grassland rife with tangled weeds. The moon was still visible in daylight in these parts—but more impressive was its monstrous size and nearness to the horizon.
“We need to find Dead Man’s Cove,” he said. “If we make it there by noon, we can hitch a boat ride to Neverland.”
“So how do you know all this?”
Something distracted Uncle Derek before he could reply. A hesitant look crossed his face as he pointed dead ahead.
A murky river, fairly wide and relatively calm, loomed in the distance.
“That there might be the Dragon Bite,” Derek muttered. “If it is, we’ll need to cross it and follow it till the river meets the sea. There we’ll find Dead Man’s Cove and our ship.”
“I’m parched,” Caitlin said. “I need to drink something first.”
“It’s all grassland, young Cait.”
“No. I see a cabin. Way over there, to the left.”
Sure enough, there was a rustic cottage with an adjacent cowshed. It was the first dwelling they had come across for some time.
“They gotta have running water, or a well,” Caitlin said.
Derek’s eyes lit up. “That’s good. I’ve been through here many times. That place belongs to the Man in the Moon and the cow that jumped over it.”
Caitlin rolled her eye. The Man in the Freaking Moon? Leaping cows from nursery rhymes? Is he serious?
“Are you serious?”
“As a surgeon with a scalpel. Because it means that river up ahead is the Dragon Bite.”
“Well, I’m heading over to the moon cow first—to milk it dry. I won’t make it anywhere without something to drink.”
Caitlin started off toward the cottage.
“’Ang on a minute,” Derek called out. “You’re looking at a ten-minute footslog. And another ten back. We’ll miss the last ship.”
Tin Man wagged a finger. “And if you drink the cow’s blood, your cravings will double.”
How did he know I was going to do that?
”And then we end up hungry instead of thirsty.”
“Then we’re really in a pisser,” Derek said. “Our man of tin is right. Let’s keep at it.” He summoned her back with a wave. Caitlin huffed grudgingly and followed them onto the trail toward the river.
“Why’s it called the Dragon Bite?” she asked Tin Man.
He offered a deferential bow and hand wave, ceding the why question to Gruncle Derek.
“Bloody creek is crawling with Alligator Snapping Turtles,” Derek said. “Big bastards. Heads ugly as dragons. Prehistoric. Jaws quick as a cobra. Catch a bite, and you’ll need a crowbar to pry open its bleeding jaw.”
Derek massaged his chin as they approached the river’s edge. The water was murky and the river channel was narrow and curvy. Acres of tall pines canopied the other side for as far as the eye could see.
The air smelled damp and earthy, but also slightly sweet thanks to the fruity fragrance of nearby honeysuckle
vines.
“Ready to ferry ’cross the Mersey?” Derek asked.
“Oooh, me first!” Caitlin shouted, raising her hand. Her brows then sharpened into two daggers. “Are you freaking crazy? I just got dragged out of a river. And this one’s poop brown and thick as a turd. We’ll never see those turtle dragons coming.”
“Snappers aren’t fond of humans,” Gruncle said. “They tend to keep away. I think we’re good to cross.”
“I’m only half human.”
He shrugged. “Good point. Still gives us a fifty-fifty chance of getting out unscathed.”
Gruncle Derek and Tin Man exchanged wary looks. Derek hoisted his duffel bag onto his shoulders. “Okay, Tin Man. Move your tin arse.”
Tin Man and Gruncle tentatively waded into the Dragon Bite River.
They held their arms high above the surface, out of biting range; their eyes scanned the river right to left, left to right, ahead, and then to the rear.
Caitlin shook her head in dismay as she watched them. Then she flapped her arms, rattled her legs, and exhaled, going through motions of a swimmer loosening up before a race. Gruncle and Tin Man were already waist-deep in the river.
She reluctantly followed them into the turtle-turd soup.
The river was unexpectedly warm. It smelled like the bathroom at home after Natalie had binged on chili dogs.
Caitlin eyed the water for sudden ripples or air bubbles—indications of incoming dragons.
“Tell me what’s really going on,” Caitlin shouted ahead to Uncle Derek as she waded out of the shallows and into deeper waters. “How do you know all this?”
“You must swear silence,” he hollered back.
“You have my word,” Caitlin said.
“Young Cait, you’re not the only Blackshaw descendant to cross over into this world. I’ve been here many times.”
Oh my gosh!
“Really? Why?”
“Started with me baby brother—your Bobby Gramps.”
“What happened?”
“Remember I told you about our band and gig in America?”
“Yeah—Bobby Gramps got good and wasted the night b
efore. Fell and hurt himself. Nearly died.”
“Yup. Suffered a career-threatening injury. Lost the use of his guitar hand.”
“Right. But you said it healed. He learned to play guitar with his other hand.”
Derek glanced back at Caitlin, smiling and proud. “Best damn guitarist there ever was.”
Tin Man stopped abruptly.
He fell silent and signaled with a raise of his arm. Caitlin and Derek froze.
A subtle breaking wave passed in front of them, as if something was swimming beneath the surface.
Caitlin chewed her lip. She saw air bubbles.
Tin Man gave a gentle half-turn back, nodding to Derek and Caitlin.
“Snapper!” he whispered.
The trio stood motionless in the river. The ripple passed them and moved up the river channel.
Tin Man pointed forward, indicating it was safe to continue.
Gruncle picked up where he left off. “Do you know what a pact with the Devil is?”
“Duh! Selling your soul.”
“Well, me brother ransomed his.”
“To the Devil?”
“To the one they call the Lord of the Curtain. That fiend had paid a visit to Robert ‘Bobby’ Blackshaw.”
“How?”
“Only a human can open a door to the other side. Me brother opened one such door, one night in Scotland.”
“You mean while indulging in one of his bad habits?”
He nodded sadly. “That slimy serpent promised to heal me brother’s hand—bring him renown and fame—provided he ransomed his soul and birth order.”
“Birth order?”
“Your grandpa was the second born. Your good old Gruncle Derek is the firstborn. The Enchanter and Bobby Gramps struck a bargain: new hand and newfound fame in exchange for the souls of the second-born descendants of Bobby Gramps.”
Caitlin felt a chill on her neck. “My mom was the second child in her family.”
“That’s why the Enchanter snatched Evelyn from Mount Cemetery in Guildford on Halloween night. Came to collect his ransom. That inhuman ghoul-maker needed another real human. Specifically, he needed a human mind. It’s the only thing more powerful than he is. His bargain with Bobby got him that.”
“Why would Bobby Gramps do such a thing?”
There was a crack of heartbreak in Derek’s eyes. “He wouldn’t. Me brother had a generous heart. A nurturing spirit. He was soft like a baby’s blanket.”
“So what happened?”
“Deception. Thought he was only ransoming his own soul. In his desperate state, the poor bloke never read the fine print on his bargain. According to the deal, if he died before his thirtieth birthday, his line of second-born descendants would also be ransomed. Your grandpa died two years shy of his thirtieth birthday. Ever since, he’s been enslaved somewhere in this world to that bloody Bugger of the Curtain. Me brother will never know peace unless I can find him.”
Caitlin bowed her head. “Natalie is the next second-born ransom.”
“I don’t have to tell ya, young Cait, that we need to end this. So listen good—”
Tin Man stopped again, arm up, a finger pressed to his lips. “Shhhhhh.”
A ripple of water with air bubbles . . . another alligator turtle lurking beneath the surface.
Yesss!
The snapper turned and swam upriver.
Caitlin gestured for her gruncle to continue.
“The only person who can protect or liberate a ransomed second-born and break the Devil’s bargain is a firstborn child.”
A cascade of emotions engulfed Caitlin, and scattered thoughts swirled in her head.
Derek continued. “Remember the question you asked me that night in Glendale, when we first met?”
“A question about what?”
“Your Grauntie Gwen. Your mom’s older sister.”
“I asked you what kind of birds struck the car that killed her. You said it was either ravens or crows.”
“It was crows, young Cait. You understand now? The firstborn protects the second born. Also the third and fourth. ’Cuz the firstborn is the seed of all the children born into a family. And when an apple seed sprouts, the seed always remains part of the apple tree, nourishing it. Once Gwen was removed from this world, your mum became vulnerable to the Enchanter. All it takes is one face-to-face meeting with him. He is too overpowering to resist. Natalie is the second born. You’re her protector—while you live.”
“Oh my God, it’s all on me now!”
“Quite right, young Cait. But it’s also partly on your Gruncle Derek.”
She grimaced, embarrassed that she was only thinking of herself and Natalie. She had totally disregarded the painful ordeal her Bobby Gramps and gruncle had already been going through all these years.
“And that’s why I’ve been coming here,” Derek went on. “To find me brother and emancipate him from this wretched covenant.”
“But that was, like, over fifty years ago!”
“Yup. Went searching for him after he passed in sixty-nine. Because I knew his second-born child would also be next. Your mum. But it’s been like looking for a needle in a haystack. Countless kingdoms to search.”
“I don’t want to spend fifty years of my life looking for Natalie.”
Derek didn’t respond to her comment. He simply continued wading across the river in silence. The sudden quiet was like a blow to Caitlin’s gut. It almost winded her. But Gruncle Derek’s next comment was the real knockout blow.
“I’m quite prepared to spend the next hundred years searching if I have to . . . because, well . . . I luv me brother, and that’s what siblings do.”
Caitlin’s eyes no longer searched the river for snapping turtle dragons.
She was too busy searching inward.
CHAPTER Twenty-Eight
The werwulves moved by the light of sunfire reflecting off a sterile moon. The lunar globe generated no light of its own—it was forever dependent on the daystar for its light, just as the undead wulves were reliant on the Enchanter for their red-band luminance.
The roaming, fanged carnivores were of the Slavic species: tall, two-legged, and vertical in posture. Hunger propelled their every movement.
They were known for their supernatural speed, even when chasing their prey on two feet. They were gifted with clairvoyance and familiar with the ways of sorcery.
These wulves garbed their bodies in black leather, believing in leather’s occult capacity to arouse the arcane forces that swirled in the sunless, starless, bleak regions of space.
This species was also of princely blood; they were descendants of shape-shifting human royals who had once ruled over distant kingdoms. But they now preferred to manifest as werwulves, and embraced the cold breath and blood of the living dead.
Vestiges of their human ancestry were still incarnate in their anatomy. Their facial features, for example, looked like a genetic fusion of man and wulf.
The Slavic pack of wulves was in pursuit of the Pantheon portal, their gateway into Eos. They had recently heard about the recent Wolvercote discovery from their kin-wulves. And just hours ago, in quick succession, more portals had been found: Patcham, Headington, Lazerev, and La Madeleine. Along with Great Crosthwaite and Wolvercote, that made six.
This pack would be the one to secure the final, seventh site.
After Wolvercote was found, the Lord of the Curtain had dispatched a hundred more wulves to that site—and a thousand more to the other portals.
The impending incursion into Eos would be a large-scale invasion. Lethal. The anticipation bathed the tongues of the wulves in salty saliva.
They homed in on the Pantheon portal efficiently, their second sight facilitating its quick discovery.
Now they waited for the human creature to open up all seven por
tals.
CHAPTER Twenty-Nine
“Bloody hell!” Derek Blackshaw’s pained wail sent a shiver down Caitlin’s spine. His body twisted in the river. “Damn dragon turtle’s got me ankle.”
A swirl of blood rose to the river’s surface.
Tin Man disappeared under the water. Derek winced, his face anguished and pale.
A moment later, that dragon turtle was rocket-launched out of the river. It soared into the sky like a fired missile.
Tin Man splashed back up to the surface. “He’ll bother us no longer.”
Gravity soon brought the alligator turtle splashing back into the river, dead as ash. It floated on the back of its shell.
Caitlin grimaced. Never had she seen such an ugly creature in all her life. The head was hideously reptilian and prehistoric, like something out of a Japanese monster movie, its skin ridged like an alligator’s. Its fangs were still red with Gruncle Derek’s blood.
Derek wiped sweat from his brow. His breathing came hard and heavy.
Luckily, the river met the sea just up ahead. Caitlin could see wooden docks and the tall masts and sails of various ships docked at Dead Man’s Cove.
The trio picked up its pace, her gruncle in obvious pain as they silently waded through the water.
They reached the shoreline. Derek staggered out of the river, Caitlin and Tin Man in tow. Gruncle’s limp was severe. He pulled up his pant leg to check the bite. The wound appeared to be deep, down to the bone.
He hobbled over to a tangle of dead trees, then broke off a long, sturdy branch and used it as a cane.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “We must find a boat straightaway.” Leaning on his cane as he limped, Gruncle Derek led the way.
The twinge in Caitlin’s heart turned doubly painful, and she got choked up.
Watching her gruncle persevere like this made her sad. And watching him hobble with the cane stirred the memory of Jack. He had also needed a cane last year, when his tibia bone had broken through the surface of his skin. The memory of a wounded Jack and Caitlin sailing on a moonlit sea, sharing their first kiss, now seemed like a lifetime ago.
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