Master of the Phantom Isle

by Brandon Mull

  “To talk to a dragon?” Eve said. “My father can’t take away that experience. I want to do my part to help Wyrmroost. I’m fascinated by dragons. And I’m a student of history.”

  “A punishment isn’t so bad if accompanied by the right memories,” Doren said.

  Eve gave a nod. “Exactly.”

  “Lead on, fairy!” Doren called.

  “There is nothing lucky about a satyr,” the fairy muttered.

  Dark water sloshed against the rocky shore of the grotto, the churning surface rising and falling as it surged and splashed. Seth could smell salt in the moist air.

  “Is this ocean water?” Seth asked. “Are we in a sea cave?”

  Ronodin used his torch to light a trio of cressets, each one nearly as tall as Seth, the slender stands topped by metal bowls to hold the flames. “The domain of the Underking is large. Right now we’re topside, not far from the sea, though the water here runs very deep.”

  “Does the Underking let you roam wherever you want?” Seth asked.

  “I come and go as I please,” Ronodin said. “There are areas of his domain that he keeps private, and regions where only a fool would venture, but otherwise I am without limits. It seems like your conversation with his majesty went well.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “You’re alive,” Ronodin said.

  “I had to promise to do things,” Seth said, glancing at the spectral manacle on his wrist. He held it up. “Do you see that?”

  “Your hand?”

  “I’m cuffed to a ghost chain,” Seth said.

  “Some sort of bargain was bound to happen,” Ronodin said. “Hard to get something for nothing.”

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  “You need a place where you can regain your lost talents,” Ronodin said. “Many would try to keep you from them.”

  “Why do you get to come and go as you please?” Seth asked.

  “Because I earned the right.”

  “How?”

  Ronodin grinned in the firelight. “We all have our trade secrets.”

  “The Underking assigned me to free some of the undead,” Seth said.

  “No big task,” Ronodin said. “But you need to learn to manage your fear or they will devour you, body and soul.”

  “I wasn’t afraid of the wraiths,” Seth pointed out.

  “The wraiths here are under orders not to harm you,” Ronodin said. “And there are more dreadful beings than wraiths. Not all creatures who generate fear are undead. Few cause more paralyzing horror than dragons.”

  “I’ve heard that,” Seth said.

  “We need to learn how you fare against one,” Ronodin said.

  Seth looked around. “Here? Is it a baby?”

  Ronodin gave a chuckle. “Hardly.”

  “This room isn’t very big,” Seth said.

  “Not above the water,” Ronodin said. He pointed with his torch toward an enormous drum. “Go strike that three times.”

  Seth reconsidered the turbulent water. “To call something?”

  “Not all dragons dwell in the sky,” Ronodin said.

  “Can we handle a dragon?” Seth asked.

  “In these close quarters?” Ronodin asked. “We would need an arrangement with the brute to survive.”

  “Do we have an arrangement?” Seth asked.

  “Well, I do,” Ronodin said. “Smite the drum.”

  Held in place on a wooden scaffold, the drum was shaped like a huge barrel tipped on its side. The circular drumhead was taller than Seth. Crossing to stand before the drum, he noticed a few bones scattered in front of it.

  “That’s right,” Ronodin said. “Use a bone.”

  Seth picked up what looked like a large thigh bone. Holding it in both hands, he took a shortened practice swing. The prospect of hitting the drum was exciting. The thought of summoning a dragon was thrilling. The possibility of being devoured was less comfortable.

  “Three times,” Ronodin encouraged.

  Seth could have asked more questions, but he had already learned that Ronodin did not stray from his intentions. Hitting the drum would bring answers soonest and was probably the inevitable outcome.

  Seth did not believe that Ronodin wanted him dead. Still, his palms were sweaty as he swung the bone hard. The impact produced a satisfying boom that seemed to sink into the roots of the cavern. Seth hit the drum again, feeling the resultant vibrations in his teeth. After the final stroke, Seth stepped away from the thrumming drumhead and set down the bone, then looked up to find Ronodin backing out of the room.

  “Go stand in the middle of the cressets,” Ronodin called, pointing toward them.

  “Where are you going?” Seth asked, panicked.

  “See how they form a triangle?” Ronodin asked. “Stand at the center.”

  “Nice try,” Seth said, hurrying away from the water toward Ronodin. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Do as you’re told if you want to live,” Ronodin said. “You have only seconds. You’re safe within the triangle.”

  Seth hesitated. “Why aren’t you in there?”

  “The cressets can protect only one person,” Ronodin said. “Face the water.”

  Seth ran over to the triangle of cressets. “What now?” he cried.

  “Talk to him,” Ronodin called.

  The brine foamed and roiled as never before, and the ground trembled. Gritty dust sprinkled down from the stalactites overhead. Mouth dry, Seth glanced back at Ronodin, who waited a couple of steps from the exit. Seth wondered how much he could rely on what Ronodin told him. Was it too late to run for it?

  Water fountained up and outward as a shape erupted from its surface, dousing Seth. Cressets still burning, Seth wiped saltwater from his eyes and beheld what looked like the gargantuan head of a lumpy, diseased lizard, infested with barnacles. Knobby horns projected in various shapes and directions, like the buds of malformed antlers, and the jaws gaped open to reveal a funnel of hooked teeth.

  Seth found he could no longer move. The sea dragon roared, and though Seth’s bones seemed to quake and the entire cavern shuddered, he could not cover his ears. Supported by a purple, shell-encrusted neck, the head drew nearer, misshapen nostrils flexing as they sniffed.

  “Speak to him,” Ronodin encouraged.

  Despite his terror, Seth fought to move his lips. They refused to budge. Summoning all his strength, he tried to muster a hello, but his voice would not operate.

  “This is no shadow charmer,” the dragon said in a voice like the hulls of great ships grinding against rocky shores.

  “His talents are still emerging,” Ronodin said.

  Yawning his jaws open, the dragon breathed out a warm, humid exhalation that reeked strongly of old fish. Seth stared past the uneven ranks of teeth to the leathery tunnel beyond, slimy brown surfaces wrinkled and clenching. He wanted to lean away from the stench but couldn’t.

  The dragon pulled back a bit, eyeing him with a flat gaze. “He is crab food.”

  “Give the boy time,” Ronodin said. “Seth, now would be a good time to speak.”

  Seth tried to turn his head to Ronodin. He wanted to clench his fists and yell in frustration. His body refused to respond.

  “He makes kelp look clever,” the dragon said. “Why not present him as an offering?”

  “You don’t need a boy,” Ronodin said. “You eat whales.”

  “I have not tasted human in a good while,” the dragon said. “Admittedly, they are bony and stringy, but they fear deliciously. The terror makes a fine seasoning.”

  Seth wrestled with the accusation. He definitely didn’t want to die, and the dragon scared him, but the fear was not smothering him. Ronodin had said he was safe within the triangle of cressets, and that appeared to be true. Although Seth was a helpless target,
the dragon had not attacked. Seth wanted to show his courage, because his apparent fear seemed to make the dragon lose all respect for him. But his body would not comply.

  “Please, Jibarro, give the boy a moment to compose himself,” Ronodin said.

  “Do not summon me for such dull entertainment,” the dragon said; then his head plunged beneath the water, splashing Seth.

  A moment later, Seth could move. Ronodin approached briskly.

  “What went wrong?” Ronodin asked.

  “That dragon could have eaten me,” Seth said.

  “Easily,” Ronodin replied. “You would have been mostly digested before reaching the stomach.”

  “Why couldn’t I move?” Seth asked.

  “You tell me,” Ronodin said.

  “I tried to say hello,” Seth said. “I was keeping it simple.”

  “I sensed that your mind remained lucid,” Ronodin said.

  “Yes, I could think just fine,” Seth said.

  “Normally an inability to think is what stops a shadow charmer when faced by a dragon,” Ronodin said.

  “I could definitely think,” Seth said. “I just couldn’t move.”

  “You have the power to overcome all magical fear,” Ronodin said. “You simply have to claim it.”

  “How?” Seth asked.

  Ronodin folded his arms. “Evidently, when you are bombarded by extreme fear, the signals from your mind are not reaching your body. There is a disconnect between the mental and the physical.”

  “I knew what I wanted to say, where I wanted to move, but nothing would respond,” Seth said.

  “Look inside yourself, Seth,” Ronodin said. “Look deep. Can you find the darkness within you?”

  “I don’t understand,” Seth said.

  “A demon called Graulas granted you a gift,” Ronodin said. “You have perceived the darkness and cold within a wraith. You have darkness in you as well. It establishes a degree of kinship with the undead. You can use it to hide, to extinguish fire, and to center yourself against fear.”

  Seth tried to focus inward but wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “What should the darkness feel like?”

  Ronodin sighed. “I’ll give you a rare opportunity.” He held out a hand. “Take my hand and look into me. I was once a vessel of light. See what you find within me now.”

  Seth took the offered hand, and his mind immediately perceived a void so startling, he worried he might lose himself in it. The vast darkness seemed sure and still. It took Seth a moment to remember to speak. “The darkness is everywhere.”

  “Good,” Ronodin said. “You have similar power within you, though less developed. Close your eyes, and get curious about your center. Where is your essence housed? Behind your eyes? In your gut? Within your fingers?”

  “I don’t get it,” Seth said. “I’m all me.”

  “Think harder,” Ronodin challenged. “Where is your core? Look for the part of you that feels and chooses and holds you together.”

  Seth thought about it. “Maybe in my chest? Maybe behind my eyes?”

  “What if it’s an emergency, and you need to survive?” Ronodin said. “What takes over?”

  “It’s in my chest,” Seth said.

  “There is a part of you that is in charge,” Ronodin said. “A part of you that insists no external influence is going to govern you.”

  “Yes, okay,” Seth said. “In my chest.”

  “Look for the darkness near there,” Ronodin said. “It is not yet throughout.”

  “I think I feel what you mean,” Seth said. “Almost like a cloud around my heart. Is that supposed to mean I’m evil?”

  “We’re not talking about evil,” Ronodin said. “We’re talking about darkness as a power source. Is day good and night evil? No. That distinction is ridiculous. Night is better for seeing the stars. Is not the cool of night preferable for traveling in the desert? Probably. Is sleeping in a dark room evil and sleeping in a bright one good? No, and I would argue that darkness is better suited to the purpose of sleep. The darkness you draw from is a resource. You can use it for good or evil.”

  “I guess so,” Seth said.

  “You sense the darkness within you?” Ronodin asked. “The gift you were given?”

  “I think so,” Seth said.

  “Good enough,” Ronodin said. “Tap into that darkness. Anchor yourself there. It can enable you to remain in charge of yourself, even against potent influences. The power there can be drawn upon to accomplish many things. Use it to extinguish this cresset.”

  Seth opened his eyes to see Ronodin indicating one of the flaming cressets. Seth drew on the dark place Ronodin had helped him find and focused on the cresset, pushing coldness and darkness into it. The flames resisted.

  “It’s hot,” Seth murmured.

  “The heat is nothing compared to how cold and dark you can go,” Ronodin said.

  Seth gritted his teeth and pushed with all that he had. The fire in the cresset shrank, dimmed, and went out with a puff of smoke. Seth found that he was panting, and his jaw hurt. Droplets of sweat beaded his brow.

  “Very well done,” Ronodin said richly, releasing Seth’s hand. “That cresset is magically waterproof. Not easy to put out.” He used a torch to relight it.

  “You can do this too?” Seth asked.

  “I draw on darkness in many ways,” Ronodin said. “Most unicorns are beings of light. It grew tedious to me. I traded my light to access darkness, making me unique. The dark unicorn.”

  “What does this have to do with talking to the dragon?” Seth asked.

  “Go to that same power source when Jibarro appears,” Ronodin said. “Draw on the strength there. Demand to stay in charge. Don’t let any other stimulus suppress you.”

  Seth nodded.

  Ronodin walked over to the drum and picked up the thigh bone. “Ready for another try?”

  “Shouldn’t I rest?” Seth asked. “Train? What if I fail?”

  “Rules or no rules, this time he might eat you.” Ronodin struck the drum three times.

  Seth wanted to protest. He didn’t feel ready! He considered fleeing but decided it was too cowardly. At least he knew what to expect this time. Steeling himself, Seth turned and confronted the agitated water. The cavern shuddered. A geyser announced the arrival of Jibarro, his knobby horns grazing the top of the chamber.

  “You again?” the dragon asked, glaring. He drew near with a snarl. “Don’t tell me you suddenly grew a backbone?”

  Seth could not move or reply. As he searched the dark place near his center, calm sureness spread through him.

  “Hello,” Seth said.

  He suspected he could move, then gave a little wave to prove it.

  The dragon looked to Ronodin. “You’re good.”

  “That’s not news,” Ronodin said. “But I’m not doing this. The boy is talented.”

  Jibarro sniffed Seth, nostrils not quite touching his shirt. “How is it done? Wires? A spell?”

  Seth held his nose. “What do you eat? Pollution?”

  Jibarro jerked away, eyes flashing. “Was that disrespect?”

  “Independence,” Ronodin said. “Thank you, Jibarro. Your offering is already in place.”

  The head disappeared below the surface with a tremendous splash. Seth was absolutely soaked but didn’t care. “What offering?”

  “A large quantity of pickled squid,” Ronodin said.

  “Might explain the breath,” Seth said, sitting down unsteadily on the rocky floor. He felt shaken but relieved. “I did it!”

  “Lucky for you,” Ronodin said. “Otherwise you would not survive tomorrow night.”

  “What happens tomorrow?”

  The dark unicorn smiled. “You have some captives to liberate.”

  Kendra did not realize she had fallen a
sleep until she was gently shaken awake. For a moment she felt disoriented. Then she recalled having come to Glory’s stall to hide and think. Her favorite horse was gone, so the stall provided a cozy place where she could be alone.

  Except she was no longer alone.

  Agad the wizard crouched before her. His smile looked strained. Seeing him brought Kendra fully awake.

  “You’re back!” Kendra said. “Any word about Seth?”

  Agad started to rise, then, after a pause, went and sat on the opposite side of the stall from Kendra, back to the wall. “Nothing definitive yet. I’m sorry. After the message from your grandparents, I went right to work. I’m still piecing it together.”

  “What are the pieces?”

  “I examined the barrel,” Agad said. “Its counterpart is now deep underwater.”

  “Where?” Kendra asked.

  “In the ocean, I believe,” Agad said. “Deep.”

  “What ocean?”

  Agad shook his head sadly. “I can’t get a read on it. There is magical interference.”

  “Can we send somebody from our barrel to that one?” Kendra asked.

  Agad shook his head. “Not without someone to help them out on the other side. And I believe the barrel is extremely deep. I suspect the pressure alone would kill a person.”

  “They sank it instead of destroying it?” Kendra asked.

  “Meaning they may hope to use it again,” Agad said. “We should consider destroying the one we have.”

  “It might be our only link to Seth,” Kendra said. “Can’t we lock it up? Make sure nobody can come through?”

  “We could,” Agad said. “You realize they may have scuttled the barrel someplace far from your brother. It may never serve as much of a clue.”

  “I know,” Kendra said. She looked at the wizard. “Do you have any idea who did this?”

  Agad dropped his eyes. In that moment, Kendra realized how weary and haggard the old wizard looked, his skin tinged with gray that darkened around the eyes, his beard more matted and tangled than usual, his robes rumpled and stained.

  “The Sphinx was involved,” Agad whispered.