by D. R. Martin
“We seem to have taken the field,” the brigadier said. “But better safe than sorry. Don’t know if the hostiles will counterattack. We have an armored car and convoy at the ready.”
Johnny was impressed by how unruffled the king seemed. He’d just been through a horrible night and the threat of assassination. But he stood there, gazing around, as if he’d never quite seen Castle Henry before.
Then he regarded his rescuers. “First, I should like to thank Brigadier Stafferton and his fine troops. To my loyal Oates, my ghost eyes, a hearty note of gratitude.” Oates bowed from the waist and shook the king’s hand. “To my ghost friends, whom I can’t see, a tip of the hat.”
The king’s gaze turned toward Johnny and Nina. “And I’m eternally obliged to Master Graphic and Miss Bain.”
Remembering the etiquette, Johnny bowed from the waist and shuffled over to shake the king’s rather limp hand.
After Nina curtsied, she approached the monarch of the Royal Kingdom with an oddly harsh, cold expression.
Johnny spied a glint of something in her left hand.
Something metallic and pointed.
No, this couldn’t be right.
It just couldn’t be.
But it was!
A knife.
With a terrible grunt, Nina began to swing the blade toward the king’s stomach.
Arms outstretched, Johnny leapt toward her.
“Noooo!” he screamed.
Chapter 43
Johnny was only airborne for a second and a half. His hands shot out in front of him as far as they could go, and he prepared for impact with his suddenly and inexplicably insane friend. The vowel sound of the word “Noooo” was still emerging from his mouth.
He hit Nina with a solid thuuud that made his shoulder explode in pain and his already bruised nose zap him with the nastiest throb imaginable. The full force of his ninety or so pounds drove Nina sideways, as she let loose a ghastly, ear-piercing scream that hardly sounded human.
They both landed on the pavement. Johnny banged his knees and elbows, and scraped the side of his face on the macadam road surface. He saw Nina sprawled in front of him. And for the briefest moment, he worried that he might have knocked her out.
But that thought quickly evaporated as she twisted around like a scalded cat and rose up, coming at him with the very knife she had intended to use on the king.
Johnny managed to roll to one side as the blade whizzed by his right ear, missing by only an inch.
Nina’s momentum carried her forward and she tumbled to the pavement again. Taking a deep inhalation of air, Johnny jumped on top of her and grabbed her knife hand with both of his, attempting to bend her wrist and make her drop the weapon.
But he had no idea she was so strong. She seemed to be overpowering his efforts, and Johnny watched as the knife edged closer and closer to his chest.
What in the world had turned Nina Bain into a mad and murderous lunatic? It made no sense at all.
Only a few seconds had passed since the nightmare began, but it felt like an eternity to Johnny.
By now, the brigadier, Rex Ward, Corporal Marchiano, and Private Boo had descended on Johnny and Nina, dragging them apart. Boo wrenched the knife from Nina’s hand and tossed it aside, while Corporal Marchiano clamped an arm around her neck and tried to subdue her. She fought him ferociously, but wasn’t strong enough to break free.
Johnny felt as if his whole world had turned upside down.
His best friend an assassin?
It was absolutely, positively, utterly nuts!
Nina was the most solid, most dependable, most honest, most upright person he had ever known. She could be a bit of a pain about it, in fact. Whenever she caught him making a tiny cheat or cutting a corner—which he occasionally felt entitled to do—he could count on a chewing out.
What would bring her to the lunacy of trying to murder one of the most important people in the whole world?
To think that Percy and his forces had laid siege to Castle Henry, apparently to murder the king, and it turned out to be one of the good guys who had come closest to finishing the job. Johnny had seen a bunch of incredible things in the last few months, but this had to take the cake.
Nina was writhing and twisting, screeching away about being let go. Claiming that she’d done nothing wrong. Protesting that the king deserved to die for the horrible way his country treated ghosts and zombies. She was spouting profanities, too, which was not at all her style.
Johnny wondered if the horrible strain and dangers of the last few days had finally gotten to her—sent her right round the bend. Her face was so contorted with rage that she hardly looked like Nina Bain.
That’s when Dame Honoria and Mel rushed onto the scene. Johnny didn’t know where they had been during the battle. But from their soaked clothes, he figured they had been splashing some zombies.
“What on earth has happened?” Dame Honoria huffed.
“Sparks went crazy,” Johnny said. “Tried to stab the king. I don’t know why.” Then he shrugged helplessly, shook his head, and threw up his hands. He felt almost like crying.
Corporal Marchiano still had Nina in a tight grip, as Mel walked up to her. “Why did you do it, Nina?” Mel asked. “Why?”
For some reason, seeing Mel’s face—right through the etheric goggles that she still wore—seemed to calm Nina down. She took a few deep breaths and looked around at the circle of people and ghosts surrounding her. “I suppose they’ll throw me in prison.”
The brigadier had been standing close by, with a dark expression on his face. “I’m afraid we don’t take kindly to attempts on his majesty’s life, Miss Bain. You’ll have a trial, of course. Unless you throw yourself on the mercy of the court or successfully make a plea of insanity. But the outcome is clear. The rest of your life will be spent in Heathmoor Women’s Prison, or a madhouse.”
Johnny gasped at the terrible finality of it. Naturally, that’s what would happen. He just couldn’t imagine that ol’ straight-arrow Sparks would get herself into such a pickle.
Quite unexpectedly, the king walked closer and regarded the girl who had tried to kill him. He looked amazingly calm and collected, considering what had just happened.
“I think of myself as a good judge of character, Brigadier Stafferton, and this doesn’t seem the same young lady I met last week in my orchid house. The same young lady who showed me her miraculous ghost goggles. And the same young lady who provided us with valuable intelligence about the zombies.”
He looked Nina straight in the eyes. “Something has happened to Miss Bain. But what?”
Johnny, and clearly everyone else, was asking the exact same question. He didn’t think an answer would come as quickly and dramatically as it did.
Nina’s face abruptly went empty and expressionless, and her body limp. Only the steady grip of Corporal Marchiano kept her from collapsing in a heap.
A luminous green light appeared in her slack, open mouth, and a sinuous, jade-colored form slithered out of it, like a serpent. All in a matter of a few seconds.
The ghostly, twisting thing was briefly amorphous, but then expanded and coalesced into a shape that was instantly recognizable to Johnny—and certainly to Mel.
The one-armed Steppe Warrior! Checheg!
Johnny began to yell a warning, just as Mel did.
The girl wraith warrior was about to throw a ghost knife.
The king was only a few feet away, the easiest target imaginable. And he couldn’t even see what he was facing.
Checheg pulled back her arm and let fly the deadly blade.
And just as she did, Johnny saw a flash of green in the dim light of the new dawn, coming out of the sky.
There was a frightful thunk of blade burying itself into flesh.
And for a split second Johnny expected to see King Robert the Seventh die right before his eyes.
But instead, almost miraculously, there stood the ghost of Colonel Horace MacFarlane.
Right in front of the king.
The knife in his chest. The handle still vibrating from the violence of its flight.
“Grab her, boys!” the colonel bellowed.
From out of nowhere came four troopers of the First Zenith Brigade. Lieutenant Finn, Sergeant Clegg, and Privates Moody and Schultz fell upon Checheg like a pack of wolves onto their prey.
The girl ghost howled and struggled and bucked and kicked and bit and scratched. But to no avail. The four Zenith troopers had her good and proper, each gripping one of her limbs. And before Mel or Johnny or anyone had the chance to say a word, off they flew with Checheg in tow.
“Where are they taking her, Colonel?” Johnny asked.
“To a proper punishment, I should think,” the colonel said, regarding his newest wound. While a ghost dagger could kill a living person, it could only hurt a ghost like the colonel. His heart was already dead—it couldn’t be killed twice. “They’re sick of that Steppe Warrior, as are we all.”
He peered down at the knife handle, yanked it out, and tossed it aside. The weapon evaporated like fog in the sun. The blade was gone, but the wound would be there in his chest forever. Never to heal.
“What are they going to do with Checheg?” Mel asked. “I didn’t give any order.”
“I think that’s why they took her away in a hurry, ma’am,” the colonel said. “They may have been afraid you would order her release. Out of compassion.”
“But we have to find out how she did what she did. How did she possess Nina? If ghosts can possess living people, then I’m afraid everything has changed.”
“It would be the worst possible scenario,” groaned Dame Honoria. “Every living human could be hijacked.” Then, under her breath, she muttered, “Percy, Percy…”
Johnny understood exactly what she meant. What if that person next to you at home or at work or at school seemed to be himself or herself, but somewhere inside was a ghost just waiting to take control? Like the brain snatchers in the Captain Justice stories. It meant you couldn’t trust anyone. You couldn’t believe anyone anymore. You would always be afraid.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” the colonel said to Mel. “But just to clarify. That blasted Steppe Warrior will still be able to answer your questions. However, she won’t be able to do much else.”
Chapter 44
Saturday, February 8, 1936
Wickenham
Bao had wanted to go with Grandmother to visit the king’s castle last night. But Grandmother had told her that she had enough to worry about on this trip, without having to keep an eye on a little girl ghost. Bao had frowned and pouted, but Grandmother, as usual, wasn’t moved by such tactics.
As everyone drove off in the big black automobile, Bao had watched from an upstairs window, feeling forlorn. Professor DeNimes had stayed home too, but he was busy all evening down in the library, going through more of Percy’s papers. And Evvie had said he wasn’t in the mood to play—he was still feeling melancholy after seeing his mother and brother.
So the night had dragged on more slowly than usual. Bao had plenty of time to imagine all the fun Grandmother and Johnny and Nina and Mel were having at Castle Henry. The king would serve them tea and cakes, like he had the time Bao met him. And probably they would play wonderful games.
Finally it was morning. Bao sat on the front entrance staircase, chin on hands, staring out at Wickenham’s magnificent landscape. She figured that sooner or later, Grandmother’s auto would appear on the driveway.
But instead, she saw two wraiths floating up the curving road to the front entrance. And when they got closer, Bao could see that they weren’t locals. She knew most of the area’s ghosts by now.
These were strangers. A young girl and some kind of ancient soldier. A very odd couple, indeed.
Then Bao remembered. Johnny and Nina had sent two ghosts from the north, bearing news of the possible attack. An old warrior and a little girl with blonde hair. This must be them. But why were they so late?
“Welcome to Wickenham,” Bao said, as the two wraiths floated up to the entrance. “I’m Bao. You must be Johnny and Nina’s friends.”
The warrior, who wore a feathered helmet and a kind of leather skirt, thumped his fist up to his chest and back out. Bao didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I am Centurion Quintus,” the warrior said. “This girl is Petunia Budd. And we are indeed comrades of Johnny Graphic and Nina Bain, with whom we lately campaigned in the north. We’ve come to report on events since they left us.”
“We’re late because we got lost in the fog,” the girl Petunia said with an exaggerated frown. “Did Johnny and Nina get here safe?”
Bao told the new arrivals everything that had happened since Johnny and Nina had reappeared. Then she showed the two specters into the great house and asked them to stay in the sitting room off the entrance hall. She warned them that it could be a long wait until Johnny and the others returned from the king’s house. But they didn’t seem to mind. Ghosts, of course, were used to waiting.
For some reason, the pretty little blonde ghost eyed Bao as if she were some strange, peculiar object. Bao sniffed at her and left the sitting room, thinking, I bet she doesn’t have an important job like I do.
A few hours later, an old automobile pulled up at the front entrance of Wickenham. Four living people piled out of it, along with one boy ghost. This time the butler Gilligan and the professor joined Bao to greet the visitors.
A black-haired boy with a swagger in his step was the first to speak up. Bao wasn’t sure she liked him. He acted very important.
“How do? I’m Marko Herne. This is my Uncle Ezra Herne, my new mate Basil Hastings, and my associate Iris Budd.”
Bao noticed that the pretty redheaded girl had her arm in a cast. And she had the loveliest violet eyes—but one of them had a bruise around it. Bao wondered if the girl had been in a fistfight with a zombie.
“The wraith is Raj Gupta, an ace secret ghost agent,” Marko continued. “We’ve come to see Johnny Graphic and Nina Bain. And I believe a couple of our ghost friends should have gotten here by now.”
“They have, sir,” said Gilligan in his ever-even tone. “They are waiting for Master Graphic, Miss Bain, Miss Graphic, and Dame Honoria in the sitting room. Would you please follow me?”
As soon as he entered the entrance hall, with all its paintings and sculptures, Marko whistled. “These are some fancy digs, aren’t they?”
Iris looked all around, as well, agog at the sight of Grandmother’s house. But Basil didn’t seem too impressed. The ghost boy came next, followed by Uncle Ezra. Bao remembered the man. He had flown Johnny and Nina back home on that strange flying machine.
Gilligan brought them all into the sitting room, where they joined Quintus and Petunia. The instant they made eye contact, the living girl and the ghost girl rushed at each other and embraced. Iris showered kisses on Petunia’s blonde head. “I was so worried about you,” she exclaimed. “But you’re okay. You’re okay!”
“I missed you lots, sweetie,” Petunia replied, hugging Iris for all she was worth. Then she turned and looked at Bao. “This is my little sister,” she explained.
Bao watched, happy for the girls, but kind of jealous, too. She wished she had her little sister around. It had been centuries, but she still missed her very much.
When the sisterly reunion trailed off, Gilligan promised the living guests and the professor some refreshment and food.
“Excuse me,” said Uncle Ezra, “but do you have a telephone I can use?”
Gilligan nodded. “Please come this way, sir.”
* * *
Because Bao hadn’t heard many details about Johnny and Nina’s adventures up north, she stayed with the professor and the guests, standing silently in the corner of the sitting room. No one seemed even to be aware of her.
The first account came from the boy ghost called Raj. He explained how he had flown away from some place called Bilbury Hall to a town called Higgsma
rket. He had spent many hours searching for someone to tell about the zombie camp at Bilbury. And finally he did. At first this person wouldn’t believe him.
“The bloke was in the Special Ghost Service and he thought I was just some kind of dead street waif,” Raj said with a scowl. “But when I mentioned Johnny and Nina and Marko here, he had to pay me some attention. Took me to an officer who sent ghost spies back to Bilbury to check out my story. Well, they ended up sending in hundreds of army and SGS forces to take back the hall. I went with them, and it was a heck of a fight. No sign of that scoundrel Percy Rathbone and his bird, Pamela Whatsername. And they were able to save all the children who hadn’t gone on the escape through the culvert. No one was hurt. Just a few scratches, bumps, and bruises.”
That’s when the food and drink arrived, as well as a friend of Uncle Ezra’s, a woman called Bess Tippett. Bao remembered her, as well, from when Johnny and Nina arrived in the flying machine just the day before. They had landed on her grass airstrip.
“How did you find Iris?” Petunia asked, while everyone was eating. Marko repeated her question to Uncle Ez, who could not hear the girl.
“After I got back from flying Johnny and Nina south in ol’ Thumper,” the old flier explained, “myself and Marko and Basil got in the auto and headed toward Bilbury. We knew it wasn’t entirely safe, but we had to locate Iris. At a roadblock, an army chappie told us about a refugee center that’d just taken in a bunch of kids. And that’s where we found her.” He winked at Iris. “Didn’t we, luv?”
“Did indeed, Uncle Ez,” Iris affirmed. “Carson and Leith and I were never so happy as when we saw those soldiers. They loaded us on lorries and took us to the refugee camp. It warms my heart to think that all those kids are heading home now. No more zombie nightmares for them.”
After being mostly silent, Professor DeNimes spoke up. “I say, Centurion, I should so like to know a little about your history. Which legion did you serve in? What campaigns did you fight in?”
Quintus’s expression brightened, and he floated over and sat next to the professor. He began to tell him about all the action he’d seen in “the glorious old Ninth.”
