by E. G. Foley
“That’s because…” Jake trailed off as he debated with himself over how much to say without sounding insane. He opted to be vague. “Sir, I have reason to believe these beasts are…well, supernatural in origin.”
The muttonchopped man squinted in confusion. “Wot?”
“They’re not…of this world.”
Jake could read the jumble of emotions on Mr. Harris’s face. He was a brass-tacks, down-to-earth businessman.
On the other hand, he had just enough Welsh blood in his veins to stop for a moment and consider that there might just be a magical explanation for all of this.
Then he shook off that fleeting moment of open-mindedness. “This is no time for boyish pranks, my lord.”
“It’s not a prank! Sir, you’ve got gargoyles in your mine.” There. He had said it.
“Gargoyles,” Mr. Harris repeated slowly.
Jake nodded. “That’s right. The ugly blokes you’ve seen carved on old stone churches. Sinister-looking faces. Claws, horns. Some with wings. You’d better let me and my team handle this, or once again, there won’t be anything left of those men but a few bones. Only, with Their Lordships, I doubt you’ll be able to cover it up the way you did with your lowly mine workers.”
This pointed comment obviously angered Mr. Harris, for his red face grew even redder. “You actually claim that you, a mere boy, are better suited than grown men to deal with some sort of rampaging creature?”
“Mr. Harris.” Jake strove for patience. “This is not an ordinary situation, and these are not animals like anything your friends have ever hunted before. Surely you have heard the stories around here about my parents and strange doings on my lands.”
“Aye,” he admitted, “everyone’s heard the old peasant tales about faeries or some such enchantment on the grounds at Plas-y-Fforest. I’ve heard those local legends since I was a boy. How, if anyone steps over the boundary of your property, they can’t quite remember what happened to them when they come back.”
“Yes, well, that’s because my lands are protected by ancient magical spells—which were put there for a reason, I assure you.”
“I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Mr. Harris headed for the door, but Jake used his telekinesis to slam it shut from across the room, preventing him from leaving.
The coal-factor turned to him in confusion.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, sir. You’ve got gargoyles in your mine. I’ve spoken to the spirits of the men who were killed. They experienced it firsthand and told me what they saw.”
“Oh, they told you personally, did they? I suppose you are referring to the séances held by that madwoman in town, Madam Sylvia or whatever her name is.”
“She can only hear the spirits, Mr. Harris. I can see them, plain as I see you. Trust me, sir, there’s more to this world than what you can see and touch and taste.” With that, Jake made his point by slowly levitating a picture frame off the knickknack table by the door and making it float in the air before the coal-factor’s eyes.
Mr. Harris looked entranced as he watched it, speechless.
Just in case he still doubted, Jake waved his hands and sent various objects floating hither and thither across the room. Mr. Harris watched them all in shock.
Jake figured he could always use the Oubliette spell on the man later if it came down to it, but Mr. Harris did not seem the sort to blab about such things. He was the sort of person who really didn’t want to know.
“Gargoyles?” he forced out at length, finally ready to listen.
Jake nodded firmly. “Gargoyles,” he said. “But don’t worry, we’ll take care of them.”
“How?”
“I’m not exactly sure yet, but this is what we do—Derek Stone and I, and several other of my companions. But I need you to close down the mine, just for a day or two. Evacuate the workers. Then we’ll clear the mine of whatever’s lurking down there. Trust me, we’ve dealt with worse,” Jake assured him. “After that, feel free to take Their Lordships on a nice hunting party down into the mine. I’m sure they’ll have great fun, but they’re not going to find anything. Better yet, nothing’s going to eat them or anyone else down there again. On that, you have my word.”
Won over by his show of confidence, Mr. Harris dazedly agreed and went to give the necessary orders.
On the bright side, however, Jake doubted he’d have to worry about Petunia hanging on him anymore. There was no way the coal-factor would ever let his daughter marry a supernatural freak after that demonstration, earl or not.
What a relief!
PART IV
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Into the Dark
They left the Harris mansion a short while later, and when they returned to Plas-y-Fforest, Jake went immediately into the secret Archive room. The others followed, but to Jake’s dismay, there was still no answer from Aunt Ramona.
He sent another message by the Inkbug, requesting even more urgent help. Then, for the next three hours, they pored over the Lightriders’ old grimoires. At last, Archie (who was very good at research) discovered a spell they could use for dealing with gargoyles.
It was called the Petrificus spell, from the Greek root word ‘petra,’ meaning stone. It would turn the gargoyles back into the stone statues they were supposed to be—but only for thirty seconds. In that short window of time, the stony gargoyles had to be smashed, or they would come back to life and attack again.
You could repeat the spell as many times as needed until the creatures were destroyed, and indeed, between the wand and chant and his telekinesis, Jake realized that, technically, he should be able to destroy one by himself.
Still, he was very glad that he didn’t have to.
Derek had put together a formidable team, and by that evening, they all were ready for battle.
With the Guardian himself as their fearless leader on the mission, there was also the Gryphon, who already had that familiar, warlike gleam in his eyes. Red liked a good fight as well as any mythical beast. Miss Helena shapeshifted into her other form for the occasion, ready to pounce, as a lethal black leopard.
Derek had also called in Emrys with his hand-picked crew of warrior dwarves, their axes sharp and shining. They feared nothing, cracking jokes the whole time.
Archie and the girls, however, stayed back at the cottage, along with Snowdrop and Nimbus and little Ufudd to look after them. Jake felt better knowing his friends would be safe here behind the thorny barrier of enchanted climbing roses and all the old protective spells that girded his property.
At least he wouldn’t have to worry about them during this ordeal. For his part, he had no choice but to go along for the adventure. Out of everyone on the team, he alone had the magical bloodlines that could make the Petrificus spell work.
Well, if he wanted to be a Lightrider one day, he was going to have to get used to facing these sorts of dangers, he told himself as their unlikely band of heroes rode along in the carriage, the dwarf warriors laughing at each other’s ribald comments the whole way up the road to the Harris Coalmine’s entrance.
They didn’t seem afraid of the gargoyles in the slightest.
Maybe ignorance was bliss. But, of course, they were used to fighting cave trolls.
Emrys noticed Jake watching the short but hearty crew in awe, and sent him a manly wink to shore up his courage.
Jake managed a smile in answer, then tried harder not to look scared. He just couldn’t help wondering what would happen if the Petrificus spell didn’t work.
He really didn’t want to end up getting eaten today—neither himself nor any of his companions. It seemed a particularly bad way to die. From what he’d heard, there had been little left of the pit pony, sadly enough.
In fact, he was half hoping the pixies were right and it was baby dragons, because they were not as smart as gargoyles, and as mere hatchlings, nowhere near as vicious.
Derek had a talent for dealing with dragons, anyway. Aye, Jake thought, gripping the wand in his pock
et. Maybe they’d get lucky and go home without a scratch.
Either way, the team was prepared.
Jake just worried if they’d be fast enough to smash the gargoyles within thirty seconds, once he did the spell. If the gargoyles came back to life that quickly, there wouldn’t be time to escape. Plus, it was going to be pitch-dark down there, and he was guessing the creatures moved very fast.
What unnerved him the most—and made him all the more sure, deep down, that these were, indeed, Garnock’s familiars—was something else the old spell-book had said.
It had warned that gargoyles came from another dimension, another world.
The underworld, to be exact.
An unnerving fact to ponder. But it made sense, considering Garnock’s dabbling in deals with the devil, according to local legend.
Whatever was down there, all Jake knew was that somebody had to deal with the beasts before hunger drove them aboveground to hunt for more prey. They had already eaten four miners and a pit pony.
Next they’d be picking off people in the town. That would never do. He took a deep, shaky breath and let it out, feeling his fear climb higher. One step at a time.
Still, he couldn’t help wondering what ever happened to that boy who had been so bold and confident in Mr. Harris’s library just a few hours ago? He smirked at the memory of how he had boasted to the coal-factor: Don’t worry, this is what we do.
Now he sat here trembling with dread—and if tonight weren’t bad enough, as soon as they had dealt with Garnock’s pets, they’d have to figure out how to defeat the sorcerer himself.
Jake had no idea how to fight a dark spirit, but it seemed easier to destroy Garnock in his black fog form, rather than waiting for him to get any stronger.
Hopefully, they’d hear from Aunt Ramona before then.
Disgusted with his own pre-battle jitters, Jake thought back to his Viking ghost friend, Ragnor the Punisher, whom he had met on his last adventure. Now there was someone who had courage!
The long-dead Viking chief had believed in two notions: glory and fate. The Norns wove the Tapestry of Fate, and therefore, destiny was set, according to Norse legend. Thus, Ragnor had explained, he was never frightened when he had rowed off in his Viking ship on one of his mighty adventures.
After all, if he was meant to die at that time, then he could not possibly survive, and if he was meant to live, then he could not possibly die until it was time.
Either way, he said, was fine with him. If he lived, he’d have victory and the riches he had taken on his raid, but if he died, he’d enter Valhalla and bask in the glory of a hero’s reputation.
Perhaps the Norseman had been a little nickey in the head, Jake mused, but that way of looking at things had allowed the Viking adventurer to charge headlong into life with nearly superhuman bravery.
Right. Jake decided to think more like a Viking to get himself through the ordeal ahead. He wasn’t sure it was working, but at last, they reached their destination.
Sunset painted the sky with dazzling colors as they arrived before the black, yawning mouth of the coalmine.
The place looked deserted except for the herd of ponies, who had been gathered back into a corral after their earlier escape.
Mercifully, the ponies had not been forced back into their underground stables in the mine. They would stay aboveground until the problem had been handled.
More importantly, Mr. Harris proved true to his word. The workers had been sent home for the day, as promised, and tomorrow, the mine would stay closed so they could finish this.
It was a good thing there were no people about, Jake mused as he watched their odd company of fighters jumping out of the carriage. Such a crew would have been difficult to explain.
Derek had been driving, which might have appeared normal enough to outsiders, except for all the weapons strapped to his muscle-bound body, to say nothing of the black leopard riding along on the seat beside him.
The erstwhile governess leaped down gracefully onto her four paws, her black tail snaking back and forth in anticipation of the battle. Meanwhile, the Gryphon and all six dwarves jumped out of the back.
Derek gave everyone a couple minutes to clear their heads and make their final preparations. The dwarves lit a few torches and checked the weapons one last time. Red and Leopard-Helena walked up to the opening of the mine, sniffing the air for any trace of gargoyles’ scent, while Emrys and Derek consulted the schematics of the coalmine one last time, planning their route.
“The pony was attacked here, which means they could have come at it from any of these three directions…”
Meanwhile, a few of the warrior dwarves went to the back of the carriage and dragged out the large slabs of raw beef they would use to lure the gargoyles close, so they could kill them.
Well, so I can kill them, Jake corrected himself with a gulp. He wiped the sweat off his palms while butterflies danced in his stomach. I hate caves.
Going underground was bad enough, but knowing that man-eating monsters from the underworld were lurking somewhere down there was going to make things even more…interesting.
Tucking the yew wand into the waistband of his trousers, he paced back and forth, nervously waiting for their ordeal to begin.
He had armed himself as well as he knew how, with his magical runic dagger, Risker, sheathed at his side, a gift from Odin himself. He had his pouch of Illuminium in case he got stranded in the darkness, though he was not too sure about having to sing to light it up. Wouldn’t the singing only lead the gargoyles straight to him?
Anyway, lastly, he had also put on his lucky seashell necklace that his parents had left him—not because it was useful in this situation. Its only real purpose was for summoning the freshwater mermaids known as naiads. He had put it on because wearing it made him feel closer to them somehow, even though he could barely remember either one of them. They had been Lightriders, and someday, so would he.
Derek finished consulting with Emrys, who folded up the map of the mine and nodded. Red and Helena finished sharpening their claws on the stone entrance to the mine, then Derek walked over to Jake.
He had never seen the warrior entirely geared up for battle before. The Guardian was armed to the teeth, a bayoneted rifle slung across his back, a revolver tucked into a shoulder holster next to his ribcage, his favorite pair of Bowie knives strapped to his sides.
He had tied back his long, dark mane and abandoned his long duster coat, wearing only a black vest with no shirt or jacket, along with his usual black trousers and boots.
Aunt Ramona would have been scandalized by his ungentlemanly apparel, but then, this wasn’t gentlemanly work.
Not quite the elegant hunting party that Their Lordships had bragged about earlier, in Mr. Harris’s library. It was going to be dark and scary—and probably bloody, too.
Jake swallowed hard and looked up at his idol.
“How are you feeling?” Derek asked.
“F-fine.” Jake cleared his throat to try to force the fearful quaver out of his voice. “I’m fine,” he repeated in a firmer tone.
“Good. You’ve got the wand, memorized that spell?”
Jake nodded anxiously.
The Guardian gave him a fond clap on the back, then scanned his face in concern. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I don’t like caves, that’s all.”
“Well, I don’t like gargoyles,” Derek said with a smile.
“You’re probably wishing that they were baby dragons,” Jake joked, trying to dissipate his tension.
Derek flashed a grin. “They’re cute when they’re small.” Narrowing his eyes in thought, he gazed toward the mine entrance. “Your aunt’s going to kill me. I really wish you didn’t have to come along for this, but since you’re the only one who can—”
“I’ll be fine.” Jake squared his shoulders. Think Viking. He lifted his chin a notch. “It’ll be fun.”
“That’s the spirit, kid.” Pride flashed in De
rek’s eyes. He tousled Jake’s hair. “Just stick close to Red and me. We’ll keep you safe. Stay between us. Whatever happens, don’t get separated from the group. And, ah, don’t drop that wand.”
“Believe me, I won’t.”
It was the only real defense they had against the gargoyles.
“Good. Let’s go.” Derek strode ahead of him, waving toward the others while Jake followed, clutching the magical twig from a yew tree.
The Guardian turned to his troops. “All right, you lot. If anyone gets hurt down there, yell for Red. His feathers have magical healing powers; he’ll give you one, and you should be all right. Of course, not even gryphon feathers are going to help if you let yourself get eaten, so stay sharp. Everyone ready?”
Jake looked around at their team: one towering Order knight; six grim-faced dwarves with axes gleaming (except for Emrys, who was carrying a sledgehammer instead, on account of the smashing part); a black leopard with greenish-yellow eyes agleam; a lion-sized Gryphon with claws bared, ready for battle; and one twelve-year-old boy trying to act like he wasn’t scared.
Jake hid a private gulp. Everyone said they were ready to go. Even Leopard-Helena let out a low feline snarl.
Derek sent his ladylove a pointed look. “Don’t do anything foolish down there,” he warned her.
She growled at him in answer.
No doubt they were both wishing her twin brother Henry were with them, too; the boys’ mild-mannered tutor was terrifying in his other form as a mighty wolf.
They would just have to do without him. And without Aunt Ramona and her formidable magical powers…
Then Derek lowered the Vampire Monocle onto his eye. “All right, then. Let’s do this.”
He signaled for them to follow, and with that, the whole team ventured into the Harris Mine.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Monsters in the Mine
As they walked deeper into the coalmine, everyone continually scanned the inky blackness all around them.
Jake gripped the wand like a weapon while his pulse pounded in his ears. At any minute, he half expected some unholy beast to come charging out of the shadows.
