Master of the Phantom Isle

by Brandon Mull

  “I understood,” the creaky voice replied.

  Seth finally identified the creaky speaker. Instead of rising to a point, one of the stalagmites ended with a little seat, and on it sat a small brown figure who, to a casual glance, looked like the top of the stalagmite.

  Seth knelt in front of the tiny being. “Are you the Hidden Sage?”

  “I am Gabrinko,” the little figure said. The texture of his skin made Seth wonder if the shriveled little person was made of wood. Standing up, he would be about the height of Seth’s pointer finger, only a little taller than the miniature person in his hand. “You may also refer to me as sage, or wise one.”

  Seth returned his attention to the tiny young man in his palm. “And who are you?” Seth asked him.

  “I’m Calvin, the Tiny Hero,” the young man said brightly. “I’m your only sworn vassal.”

  “My vassal?”

  “Keeper of your secrets, protector of your honor, servant to your interests, and defender of your causes.”

  “His support speaks well for you,” Gabrinko said.

  Seth looked from Gabrinko to the Tiny Hero on his palm. “How long have you been with me?”

  “I left Kendra and crossed to you the last time you talked to her,” Calvin said. “When you were stuck to the mushroom.”

  “I’m not familiar with that expression,” Gabrinko said.

  “I was actually stuck to a mushroom,” Seth explained.

  “I’ve stayed quiet since,” Calvin said. “A stowaway. A secret passenger. I heard you talking to Ronodin and to the Underking through that freaky undead puppet of his. Sorry to spy. I was worried that if I revealed myself, you might send me away.”

  “Or use you as fish bait,” Gabrinko said.

  “What kind of creature are you?” Seth asked.

  “A nipsie,” Calvin said. “Smallest of the fairy folk, though my people increased my size with a spell.”

  “And what are you?” Seth asked Gabrinko.

  “A wood sprite,” Gabrinko said. “We very rarely interact with big folk. My kind consider me an outcast, but the feeling is mutual.”

  “You live alone in a cave,” Seth said.

  “Keeps the rain off me,” Gabrinko said. “And no neighbors bother me here. Just the occasional adventurer.”

  Seth returned his attention to Calvin. “You’re friends with Kendra?” Seth asked.

  “She’s your sister,” Calvin said. “I can’t believe you don’t see that yet.”

  “I know she might be,” Seth said. “A lot of people tell me conflicting things.”

  “Some of those people kidnapped you to an island of the undead,” Calvin said. “Use your brain.”

  “My brain is the problem,” Seth said. “That’s why I came here. I have a gaping hole where my memories should be. I can talk to the undead creatures on that island. My ability to recruit the help of two wraiths is the reason I made it to this cave alive. I can douse torches and hide in shadows. How can I be sure I don’t belong there?”

  “I see how that could get confusing,” Calvin admitted.

  Seth turned to Gabrinko. “The Underking told me you could help me.”

  “I don’t think the Underking expected me to help you,” Gabrinko said.

  “Why not?” Seth asked.

  “I suspect he did not believe you would reach me,” Gabrinko said. “He also knows I don’t approve of the undead, and that I don’t waste good advice on those who will not heed it.”

  “I came here with an open mind,” Seth said.

  “Give me your finger,” Gabrinko said.

  “Why?” Seth asked.

  “So I can read you,” Gabrinko said. “It must be voluntary.”

  Seth held out his hand, pointer finger extended. Gabrinko laid a brown hand on his fingertip. Closing his eyes, the diminutive sage took some deep breaths.

  “Calvin has done a service for you today,” Gabrinko said. “Based on what I see in your mind, I would have chosen not to help you.”

  “Why not?” Seth asked.

  “Your history is blank,” Gabrinko said. “Instantly suspicious. What might you be hiding? The memories I can see do you no favors. You deal with darkness. You ignored the desecration of a sacred pool. You participated in the ruination of a dragon sanctuary. You consort with wraiths and evildoers. You intend to rob this island of a glorious treasure to appease your dark master.”

  “The Everbloom?” Seth asked.

  “It imbues these islands with life and magic,” Gabrinko said. “Calvin, may I take your hand?”

  “Sure,” Calvin said.

  Seth held out his palm to Gabrinko. Calvin stepped forward, and Gabrinko took his hand.

  “This provides a clearer picture of you, Seth Sorenson,” Gabrinko said. He released Calvin’s hand. “What do you wish to know?”

  “Is Kendra really my sister?” Seth asked.

  “Yes,” Gabrinko said. “And you were a co-caretaker of Wyrmroost. Until recently, you always tried to stand against evil, though, like all mortals, you made mistakes.”

  Seth stared at Gabrinko. Did that mean Kendra was telling the truth about everything? What Bracken had told him matched Kendra’s claims, so did that mean what Bracken said was true as well? The implications were too overwhelming to sort through right now. He needed to learn all he could from Gabrinko. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

  “You don’t,” Gabrinko replied. “But I just read your history as Calvin witnessed it and understands it. I have no reason to lie.”

  “The Underking recommended you,” Seth said.

  “There are always reasons to doubt,” Gabrinko said.

  “How can I get my memories back?” Seth asked. “I want to know my history. I’m tired of trying to piece together who I was based on what other people tell me.”

  “This is a worthy desire,” Gabrinko said.

  “Can you help me?” Seth asked.

  “You voluntarily surrendered your identity,” Gabrinko said. “It is the only way so much of you could have been taken. I believe your motives were noble.”

  “Can I get it back?” Seth asked.

  “Any magic that can be done can also be undone,” Gabrinko said. “Anything with a beginning must have an end. Curses can be lifted, spells can be broken, bindings can be loosed. It may not be easy, but it can be accomplished.”

  “I would do anything,” Seth said.

  “You have an essence, Seth,” Gabrinko said. “Call it a spirit, a soul, whatever you wish—you have an eternal component, a core self, that cannot be changed without your willing permission. You can be influenced, Seth. You can be encouraged, helped, fooled, misled. For good or ill, your essence evolves. But never against your will. To truly change your essence, you must be a fully willing participant.”

  Seth felt sick. “Did they take my essence?”

  “No, Seth,” Gabrinko said. “If you had lost your essence, you would be gone. There would be nothing left to worry or hope or ask questions. You are the victim of a sophisticated curse. No curse is perfectly executed, but this came close. It took your memories and all knowledge related to your identity, but it left your general knowledge. You remember facts, but you have lost your opinions about those facts. You remember procedures, but not what those procedures mean to you. You don’t have to relearn how to eat with a knife and fork. But you have no idea what you most enjoy eating. You retain familiarity with prevailing opinions on various topics, without an awareness of where you personally stand. You can’t specifically recall how you relate to anything or anyone.”

  “That sounds right,” Seth said.

  “I can’t directly perceive your essence,” Gabrinko said. “I suspect it remains largely unaltered. But it lacks context. You are trying to rebuild your convictions under the burden of consider
able misinformation.”

  “What should I do?” Seth asked.

  “How you resolve this dilemma is yours to decide.”

  “Do you know who cursed me?” Seth asked.

  “Yes,” Gabrinko said. “And I know how he took your memories. I can probably discover where he went.”

  “Who?” Calvin shouted.

  “His name is Humbuggle,” Gabrinko said. “He is an ancient and powerful demon. Very cunning. He used the Wizenstone, a talisman of nearly incomprehensible power, to steal your identity.”

  “He was the little dwarf I saw?” Seth asked.

  “Yes,” Gabrinko said. “Near where your memories begin. The stone Kendra sent away was the Wizenstone.”

  “You can figure out where he went?” Seth asked.

  “I need one of your hands again,” Gabrinko said. “Palm up.” Seth offered the hand without Calvin. Gabrinko sprang onto his hand and paced along some of the lines. Then he crouched and tapped Seth’s wrist.

  “Forgotten or not, your memories share a connection to you,” Gabrinko said. He spat onto Seth’s hand, crouched down, and rubbed it in. Eyes closed, one hand on Seth’s palm, he raised the other. After a long moment, Gabrinko hopped to his feet.

  “Any luck?” Seth asked.

  “I should have known,” Gabrinko said. “Humbuggle has gone to the Titan Valley dragon sanctuary.”

  “Where is Titan Valley?” Seth asked.

  “New Zealand,” Gabrinko said. “Near Australia.”

  Seth held up the wrist with the ghostly manacle. “Can you see this?”

  “I know what you see,” Gabrinko said.

  “Can you break it?” Seth asked.

  “I’m sorry, but I am not able,” Gabrinko said. “And you will not be going anywhere until you are free from your obligation to the Underking.”

  “So I have to bring him the Everbloom,” Seth said.

  “It would harm these islands,” Gabrinko said. “There would be irreversible damage to the ecosystem. Some magical life forms here would go extinct.”

  “If I don’t take it, somebody else will,” Seth said.

  “Perhaps,” Gabrinko replied.

  “And I’ll stay a slave to the king of the undead,” Seth continued.

  “Perhaps,” Gabrinko said.

  “At least I know where to go once I’m free,” Seth said.

  “I have words for Calvin,” Gabrinko said.

  “In private?” Seth asked.

  “Not necessary,” Gabrinko said. He looked at Calvin. “You want to break a curse.”

  “What curse?” Seth asked.

  “You don’t remember,” Calvin said. “My people, the nipsies, were cursed by Graulas.”

  “If they made you big, how small are they?” Seth asked.

  “You would have a tough time seeing facial features with your naked eyes.”

  “Was I helping you try to break the curse?”

  “You killed the demon Graulas,” Calvin said. “Our curse came with a prophecy. All nipsies know it: ‘The curse arose from the demon’s blight; the lord who slays him will set it right. The slayer shall restore our pride, the Giant Hero at his side.’”

  “I promised to help?” Seth asked.

  “And I vowed to serve you,” Calvin said solemnly.

  “And I have spoken with Serena,” Gabrinko said.

  Calvin whirled to face him. “You have? She came here?”

  “I sent her to Titan Valley,” Gabrinko said.

  “Wait,” Seth said. “Is that where you send everyone?”

  “Depends on what the spit tells me,” Gabrino said with a wink. “Humbuggle helped Graulas create the nipsie curse. Humbuggle lived for many years at Titan Valley. I told Serena she might find clues in his old castle. I did not know Humbuggle was ever at Wyrmroost. But now he has returned to his former home.”

  “So Serena might still be at Titan Valley?” Calvin asked.

  “At present Humbuggle is there,” Gabrinko said. “I know Serena meant to go there.”

  “How long ago?” Calvin asked.

  “Less than a year,” Gabrinko said.

  “Who is Serena?” Seth asked.

  “My true love,” Calvin said. “She was selected to go study the curse before I was chosen. Some of my people fear she has perished. But I’m determined to find her.”

  Gabrinko stretched and yawned. “And our interview is at an end. Please take your wraiths far from here. And if you want to be wise, protect the Everbloom at all cost.”

  “Thank you for the information,” Seth said. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

  “Many things, but my mouth grows dry,” Gabrinko said. “You have your portion for now. Follow it, doubt it, ignore it—whatever you choose. If you want my advice, keep Calvin close, Seth, and distance yourself from the Underking as you are able. Farewell.”

  “Do I keep you in my hand?” Seth asked Calvin.

  “That would get annoying for both of us,” Calvin said. “Your pocket is perfect.”

  Seth pocketed Calvin and walked out of the cave.

  Knox awoke with his cheek pressed against the sand. His mind felt foggy, and he had no idea why he had gone to sleep on the beach. His weary muscles complained when he shifted, and his joints felt a little sore. He had a mild headache. Opening his eyes, he stared at a complex network of black needles and razors.

  A jolt of recognition went through him.

  He remembered it all now—the giant demon octopus, the razor coral, the spine that grazed his shoulder. Drugged and drowsy, he had dragged himself into the little tunnel before collapsing. Looking around, he saw that he had made it around a corner. From his current position he could not see the cliff or the area where Kendra and the others had fallen.

  Not wanting to turn around with razor coral on all sides, he carefully backed up until he could see out of the little tunnel. His limbs ached as if he had somehow slept wrong on all of them. The sandy expanse in front of the cavern was empty. Kendra’s sack of gales still rested where it had fallen, the unicorn horn on top of it.

  The others were gone. He was alone.

  The light was dimmer than earlier, suggesting that somewhere above the surface of the ocean, the sun might be heading down. The light from the crystal he carried was more evident than it had been before.

  Where was Kendra? Had the demon killed her? What about the others?

  They were probably alive. Why would Remulon tranquilize them if he meant to kill them? It had sounded like the demon intended to capture them. Remulon had a reputation as a collector. Knox figured he had escaped the same fate as the others by getting far enough into the coral before passing out.

  So what was he supposed to do?

  He crawled deeper into the coral, around the corner, then a little beyond where he had awakened, just to be safe. If he was quick and quiet, he could probably slip away, go for help. And bring back who? The old lady in the wheelchair? The elixir wouldn’t work on the satyrs, and who knew if there were ingredients to make more? At best, he might return with Savani and Grady. Could they somehow save the day? The merfolk had made it clear that they would not help.

  Knox stared at the coral. Was it really as sharp as everyone claimed? He reached in his pocket and found a playing card. He pulled it out and saw it was the joker. He had shown the satyrs a card trick the night before. Having made the joker disappear, he had never removed it from his pocket. Apparently the elixir had included the card as part of his clothes, because it wasn’t soggy.

  Slowly, carefully, holding just the corner of the card, Knox brushed the joker against a dense snarl of keen edges. He felt no contact with the coral, not the faintest tug, but the card fell apart, shredded to ribbons that were diced smaller as they percolated through more coral to the sand.

  He wou
ld look worse than that if he tried to take on Remulon. He knew it. He wouldn’t last a second. The only way he would survive the encounter would be if the octopus chose to capture him. Did he want to spend the rest of his life as a prisoner?

  Knox knew he needed to make a choice. Was he going to run away and be safe or try to save Kendra and the others? Maybe Remulon was asleep? Or out hunting? Knox fidgeted, rubbing his thumb against his fingers. What if he could sneak into the cavern and untie the others? Was it possible they could all make it out of this alive?

  He knew his hope of saving them was not very realistic. If he ran away, at least he could report what had happened. Maybe Savani could send for help. Bring people to the island through the canoe. Expert demon hunters. Dudes with big muscles and magical weapons.

  What if he fled and Remulon tracked him down before he could escape? Then he would be a dead coward instead of a dead hero. What if Remulon was just waiting for him to exit the coral? Those tentacles might be too big to reach into the tunnel. Maybe the instant he crawled out he would get snatched up.

  Or maybe Remulon had forgotten about him. What if he could walk to the surface without any problem? He didn’t want Tess to lose her brother. It wasn’t fair for his parents to lose their son. He had school and sports and friends waiting back in Texas. He had a whole life to live.

  Why had he even come on this expedition? This predicament was unfair. Even if there wasn’t help to send back, he could act like he went for help. His intentions would look good. Wouldn’t people say he had done the smart thing?

  He could leave. Nobody would blame him.

  There was only one major problem.

  The thought of running away made him sick.

  Could he live with leaving Kendra and the others behind? Without even checking if he could save them?

  Nobody had made him come along.

  They had invited him to stay behind.

  So why had he come?

  Because Seth had been captured. And it had been partly his fault. Largely his fault. Seth would not have been captured if Knox hadn’t left the dungeon keys with the goblins back at Fablehaven. His cousin would still be a caretaker, and Wyrmroost would not have fallen.