THE RELIC HUNTERS
DEREK BENZ & J. S. LEWIS
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY
New York Boston
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Table of Contents
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Copyright Page
DEDICATION
Derek:
For Ioulia and Noah, my inspiration. And for my Columbia University friends who stood in the trenches with me for the last two years. You are the best.
Jon:
For Chewbacca, who is more than a sidekick. Without you, the Millennium Falcon would have never made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.
THE GREY GRIFFINS
THE LEADER: Max Sumner
After his grandfather’s mysterious death, Max learned that his billionaire family was a part of the secret Templar society. He became the Guardian of the Codex Spiritus, an enchanted book that holds monsters, evil faeries, and other dangerous creatures captive within its magical pages. The Codex can change shapes, from a book to a ring to a gauntlet capable of channeling Max’s family power: Skyfire!
THE INVENTOR: Harley Davidson Eisenstein
Built like a linebacker and incredibly smart, Harley is a technological prodigy who designs gadgets critical to any successful monster hunt. Unlike Max’s wealthy family, Harley and his mother are barely getting by. But he’s not bothered; he knows that happiness isn’t measured by how much money you have in your bank account.
THE SLEUTH: Natalia Romanov
Fearless, fiery, and intensely smart, Natalia uses her keen observational skills and her analytical mind to solve any mystery. As a part of her sleuthing kit, Natalia carries a Phantasmoscope, which allows her to see into the faerie spectrum. Since a close friend betrayed her, Natalia has had a hard time trusting other girls. She feels more at home with the Griffins than with anyone else.
THE CHANGELING: Ernie Tweeny
Ernie became a changeling after a transfusion of faerie blood, which gave him super speed, rapid healing, and enhanced eyesight. But there’s a catch: whenever Ernie uses his powers, he becomes more faerie and less human. Despite that risk, he has vowed to fight evil as his superhero alter ego, Agent Thunderbolt.
THE KNIGHTS TEMPLAR
The Knights Templar is an ancient society that has sworn to protect mankind against unseen dangers like monster invasions and zombie uprisings. Recently, the Templar were nearly exterminated by an army of werewolves called the Black Wolf Society. They are slowly rebuilding their strength.
THE NIGHTMARE
MAX SUMNER STUMBLED THROUGH A TUNNEL OF ice as the voices of the dead echoed all around him. They were telling him that he was going to die here, just like everyone else who had come to this haunted place.
Soon, the tunnel emptied into a circular chamber that was pulsating with blue light. People were trapped like statues inside the frozen walls. Most victims were probably around twelve years old—Max’s age—when they died. Some were older and at least one was younger, but they had all suffered the same fate—their eyes were lifeless and their faces were locked in terror.
The voices grew louder. Max raised his hands to his ears, but they couldn’t block out the ghastly sounds. He could feel his sanity slipping away. Then, just before he lost all sense of time and place, one voice cried out over the others.
“It’s not too late….”
Max willed himself to walk to the far end of the room, where the voice was coming from. There he saw a familiar face under the ice. It was Robert Hernandez, the boy who had been murdered by a former teacher at their school.
Max reached out to Robert, but the moment his hand scraped against the ice, the ground started to shake. Fissures shot through the surface of the ice. Max jammed his fingers into the cracks and pulled away chunks of ice and rock that crumbled as they hit the floor.
Before long, Max’s chest was heaving, and sweat was pouring down his forehead. As Max paused to catch his breath, he was distracted by a journal lying in the rubble. He picked it up, thumbing through the pages until he came to a sketch labeled THE PARAGON ENGINE.
The object in the sketch was covered with gears and steam-driven pistons, but the bulk of the machine was a ring. The phrase GATEWAY TO THE SHADOWLANDS AND BEYOND was written in looping script at the bottom of the page.
The room began to spin. Max nearly lost his footing. Then, in a flash, the icy crypt was gone, and Max was standing in the shadows of the Paragon Engine. It was real. Gears spun with rhythmic precision. Energy shimmered in the center of the ring like the surface of the sea, and the silhouette of a boy gradually emerged. Max pounded against the energy, but he couldn’t break through. Tendrils of frozen light leaped out and grabbed him by the arm.
Max was about to scream. Then he saw the face of the boy on the other side. His voice failed. Max was looking at himself!
Frost crept over his boots, then up his legs. Max tried to break free. He was too weak. It climbed into his mouth, down his throat, and into his lungs. Breathing became impossible.
Max sat up in his bed with wild eyes, gasping for air. His chest was heaving and his skin was covered in goose bumps. It was as if he’d burst out of freezing water to gasp for air. Another nightmare. Another premonition?
Max reached for his dream journal. He was still in a haze as he struggled to pick up the pen. Not that it mattered. By the time he was ready to record an entry, the dream had slipped from his memory.
PART ONE
DIVIDED
MONSTER HUNTERS
Strange things had been happening in Avalon, Minnesota.
Once known for ice-cream socials and its quaint Main Street, the tiny town in the middle of nowhere had been overrun by the bizarre. Last night, a Tundra Troll destroyed a fishing shack that sat on the icy surface of the lake. Witnesses thought it might have been some kind of bear, but it was dark and they didn’t get a good look. Besides, bears don’t have horns coming out of the sides of their heads or tusks jutting up from their jaws.
“It’s a good thing nobody was here,” Max Sumner said as he walked through what was left of the fishing shack. Even though he was only twelve years old, Max was the leader of the Grey Griffins, a team of young monster hunters tasked with saving the world from the creatures that go bump in the night.
Natalia Romanov pulled a clump of white fur out of a splintered board and inspected it with her Phantasmoscope, a multi-lens magnifying glass that allowed her to see into the faerie spectrum. “It was definitely a Tundra Troll.”
“The tracks are heading out to the island,” Harley Eisenstein said, kneeling in the snow. He was a head taller than the other two, and his shoulders were nearly twice as broad.
“It’s weird being here without Ernie,” Natalia said as she sealed the fur specimen in a plastic bag.
Ernie Tweeny was the fourth member of the Grey Griffins. A transfusion of faerie blood had turned Ernie into a changeling and given him superpowers. Now he could run faster than the eye could see. The adjustment hadn’t been difficult until his friend Robert Hernandez, another changeling, was murdered. Ernie was convinced that the Grey Griffins could have saved Robert, which was why he hadn’t spent any time with them over their winter break.
“I thought changelings couldn’t get sick,” Harley said.
“They can’t,” Natalia said. “The faerie blood enhances their immune system. They even heal faster than we do.”
“He’s not sick,” Max said. “He’s avoiding us.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Natalia said.
“What if he’s right?” Max asked. “I mean, mayb
e we could have saved Robert.”
“Robert is dead because a lunatic ripped his soul out of his body,” Natalia said. “We didn’t have anything to do with that.”
Max sighed. “I guess.”
“We better get going,” Harley said. “These tracks are pretty old. We don’t want that thing showing up at your grandma’s back door.”
Harley was a virtuoso when it came to anything with a motor, and he had retrofitted the Griffins’ snowmobiles with steam-powered propulsion units.
Snow spit out from the treads of their snowmobiles as the three friends tore across the surface of the lake in pursuit of the Tundra Troll. When Harley’s skis hit the steep shoreline of the island, he pressed a button. Silver flames erupted from the tailpipes, and the snowmobile shot into the air.
It touched down, sending snow exploding into the air. Then Harley shot toward a narrow path that was cut into the trees.
“Right behind you,” Natalia said through her communication link. She’d decided to take a more cautious approach. Her engine groaned as she climbed up the steep embankment.
Once Natalia was a safe distance away, Max activated his propulsion unit. The momentum sent him flying up the hill. He jumped higher than he’d intended to, and the snowmobile started to pull away. His legs ended up in a full split, and his fingers began slipping from the handlebars.
Max crashed to the ground. His head snapped forward before the momentum nearly threw him off the back of the snowmobile. Somehow he’d managed to hang on, but now he was heading toward the trunk of a maple tree. He thrust the handlebars to the right. The tread skidded as the snowmobile went sideways toward another tree. He twisted back to the left, straightening the snowmobile, and headed down the path after the other two.
The sun was just starting to rise, but it was caught behind a bank of clouds that threatened to unleash another winter storm. Without the headlights on their snowmobiles, it would have been impossible to follow the winding path through the forest.
“Are you picking anything up on the scanner?” Max asked over the roar of his motor. He could see Natalia up ahead. Her auburn braids were flailing behind her helmet as she sped along the trail.
“Not yet,” Max heard Harley say through his earpiece. “Wait…. there’s something big, and it’s heading our way.”
There was a loud crack before a tree fell across the path, and the impact shook the ground. Harley pulled back on his brakes to avoid the tree, but he was still going too fast. The snowmobile veered to the left, then the right, before smashing into a snowbank.
The snowmobile stopped, but Harley didn’t. He flew over the handlebars and into the trees, where he landed on gnarled roots jutting up from the snow. Harley groaned as his breath rushed out of his lungs.
“Harley!” Natalia shouted. She pulled up just as an enormous creature stepped out from the shadows. It stood over ten feet tall and had mangy white fur that hung damp from the snow.
The Tundra Troll threw its head back and roared. The horrible sound echoed through the trees, sending birds leaping from their perches into the sky.
Harley scrambled to his feet, ignoring his aching ribs and sore back. He reached his snowmobile as the Tundra Troll towered over Natalia. The monster looked down at her before tilting its head to the side, saliva dripping from its massive jaw and onto the snow. With nostrils flared, it roared once more.
Natalia cowered, covering her head with her arms. Max tore off his helmet and removed the glove on his right hand. He twisted the enchanted ring on his finger, and the ring shimmered before melting into a liquid that coated his hand, forming a medieval glove. Max flexed his fingers, and streaks of blue energy crackled across the surface.
At the same time, Harley pulled a multishot grenade launcher from the holster of his snowmobile. He threw the strap over his head before bringing the butt of the launcher to his shoulder.
Max raised the gauntlet. A bolt of blue lightning shot from his palm. It lit up the morning haze and slammed into the troll’s shoulder, knocking the monster off balance. Max struck again. The troll shook its head before bellowing. It picked up the fallen tree and threw it at Max, but the beast missed.
Harley pulled the trigger of the grenade launcher. A canister shot from the barrel and burst, shooting out a net. Like Max’s gauntlet, the net crackled with blue light as it wrapped around the troll’s head and torso. The troll fought to break free, but the energy singed its skin and held back the monster.
Natalia took deep breaths and then closed her eyes as she reached for the oversized revolver that hung from the holster on her hip. Each cartridge was filled with enough tranquilizer serum to knock an elephant out for a week. She took aim with both hands, then squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession. The first dart struck the monster in the neck. The second hit its shoulder. The third, its stomach.
The Tundra Troll became enraged, ripping the net in two before tossing it aside. The monster looked down at the darts sticking out of its hide and pulled them out in succession. Its eyelids were heavy. It stumbled, but it wasn’t done.
The troll lunged for Max, but there was a blur of motion as a white wolf tore out from the shadows and jumped over the fallen tree. The Tundra Troll spun around. The wolf leaped, its jaws wide, and it clamped down on the troll’s shoulder. They fell to the ground, and snow rose in a great cloud. When it settled, the wolf was standing on the troll’s chest with its muzzle pulled back in a wicked snarl.
The Tundra Troll picked up the wolf by the nape of its neck and threw it into a tree trunk, where the wolf crumpled.
“Sprig!” Max shouted.
The troll tried to stand. It made it to one knee before its eyes started to close. Natalia hit it with another dart, this time in its back. The monster yowled, grabbing at the tranquilizer dart, which was just out of its reach. Harley stood on the fallen tree, looking down at the troll, with the barrel of his grenade launcher pointed at the monster, but he didn’t need to pull the trigger.
The troll swayed, then fell. Its breathing was shallow as it lay unconscious. Breathing heavily, Max walked over to join his friends as they looked down at the sedated monster.
“I don’t know how long the serum is going to last,” Natalia said. She took off her helmet and strapped the tranquilizer gun back in her holster.
“You know, I wonder what kind of pet a Tundra Troll would make,” Harley said.
“You’re kidding, right?” Natalia said.
“I don’t know. Think what would happen if a burglar tried to break into your house and he found one of these babies.”
“I’d rather not.”
Max raised his palm and released a stream of light from his gauntlet. The blue energy swirled until it formed a crackling sphere of light. The captivity orb hit the troll in the chest, and the blue hue began spreading over its body. Once the Tundra Troll was encased, a bright light flashed, and the orb and the troll disappeared.
“Nice work,” Max said to Harley and Natalia. Then he walked into the woods to check on Sprig.
No longer a wolf, the shape-shifting faerie had turned back to her natural form. With large eyes, pointed ears, spiky fur, and a pink nose, she looked almost feline as she lay in the snow.
Spriggans were famous for being mischievous, sometimes ruining crops and spoiling milk. But once they found a human partner, they were the most loyal creatures—at least so far as a faerie could be loyal.
“Are you okay?” Max asked.
Sprig was licking blood off her forepaw. “We are fine,” she said, her voice soft. Max could barely hear her above the wind. He reached out to pet her back, but she recoiled under his touch. “It’s a bit tender.”
“What was that?” Harley asked.
“What?” Natalia said. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Max stood up.
“There it is again,” Harley said. “Did you hear it?”
“What was it?” Max asked.
“I don’t know…. It was moving too fast, b
ut it sounded like branches snapping.” Harley loaded his grenade launcher and moved off the path.
SURROUNDED
“Was it another Tundra Troll?” Natalia asked as she followed Harley into the forest.
“I don’t think so,” Harley said. “They can’t move that fast.”
Overhead, Sprig, who had shifted into a falcon, landed on a branch as Harley scrambled onto the trunk of a fallen tree. He pulled out his binoculars.
“Do you see anything?” Max asked.
“Not yet,” Harley said.
“What about you, Natalia?” Max said. “Are you picking anything up in the faerie spectrum?”
Natalia was scanning the area through her Phantasmoscope. Faeries could stay hidden to the naked eye by appearing as mice, butterflies, chipmunks, or any number of other animals. But with the Phantasmoscope, Natalia could see through their disguises. “Something passed through here,” she said, “but the trace is so weak that I can hardly detect it.”
Max frowned as he walked into a clearing and knelt down.
“What is it?” Harley asked.
“A footprint.”
“What kind?”
“Look for yourself.”
Harley shook his head. “You have to be kidding me.”
The print was shaped like a human foot, but the pattern looked like a tire tread. There was only one person who wore shoes like that.
Natalia cupped her hands around her mouth. “You might as well come out, Ernie!” she called.
All they heard was the wind whistling between the branches.
“Come on!” Harley said. “Stop messing around.”
Still nothing.
“The tracks go this way,” Harley said.
Max and Natalia followed him on a winding path that zigzagged and wound through the trees before ending at a house in shambles.
It looked like it used to be a grand Victorian structure. There were gabled windows, a turret, and a porch that wrapped around the front. Time had stolen its beauty. Windows were broken, a wall had caved in, the white paint had chipped away, and a portion of the roof was missing.
Grey Griffins: The Clockwork Chronicles #2: The Relic Hunters Page 1
