Jack Staples and the City of Shadows (4 page)

“Patience, my little goat. I will take you there someday, I promise.”

Alexia grimaced at the memory. He would never be able to keep that promise. Less than a year later, he and Alexia's mother had died in a fire.
You shouldn't make promises you can't keep
, she thought bitterly.

“Are you all right, child? You don't look well.”

Alexia abruptly realized the old farmer had been talking to her. Flustered, she yelped and ducked beneath the hay. The man let out a great guffaw. “It's okay. I am glad you're here. Even if we didn't talk last night, it's always nice to know someone is nearby. It makes the darkness far less lonely.”

Alexia surfaced again. “How did you know I was here?” she asked as she scanned the city.

“That red dress makes you easy to spot,” the farmer said, smiling. “And even if I hadn't seen the dress, I'd have heard the snoring. You were as loud as a pig digging for truffles.”

“I don't snore!” Alexia glared at the man as she fingered the hem of her dress. Her mother had made it for her and she hadn't taken it off since the first day she'd tried it on. She even bathed in the thing. It had been given to her on her fifth birthday, which was the same day her parents had died. Somehow, the dress still fit perfectly. Alexia assumed it must have stretched out. Though it should have been worn through and filled with holes, it still looked as good as new.

The wrinkled old farmer chuckled as he reached into his satchel. “I suppose I must have been mistaken about the snoring. A wee girl like you could never have made such a thunderous noise!” The man offered a large loaf of bread. “My wife baked it yesterday; would you like it?”

Alexia's stomach rumbled as she eyed the loaf. She'd had very little to eat in the past few days, and never in her life had she been offered an entire loaf all to herself. “It's all right. You can have it, if you like. I'm not feeling all that hungry, and you look like you could do with a little fattening up.” As Alexia reached for the loaf, she looked up at the farmer and smiled.

The farmer jerked back. “No!” he gasped and looked around feverishly. “It's not possible!” He lurched forward and seized her by the wrist, twisting it at an awkward angle. Alexia cried out as his leathery fingers lifted her chin so he could clearly see her eyes. “It's you!”

Alexia tried to scream, but her voice caught as the farmer twisted her arm back even farther. He licked his lips hungrily. “My reward will be beyond measure,” he muttered and then looked around as if expecting a trap. “Where are your protectors, girl? Where are the Awakened?”

Alexia was sure her arm was about to snap. “Please let go.” She sobbed. “I didn't do anything!”

The man abruptly seemed to remember they were in the middle of a crowded street. “Be quiet! Answer me truthfully or I'll do far worse than break your arm. Where are your protectors?”

Alexia shook her head. She had no idea what the man was talking about. She shifted painfully.

“Scream, and it will be the last thing you do,” the farmer whispered as he released her arm and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. “The Shadow Souled have searched through the ages.” He trembled as spittle dripped from his chin. “And here you are! You came to me, to my wagon!”

He's a madman!
Alexia's mind spun as she tried to make sense of it.

“Perhaps I will serve in Thaltorose itself!” the man said. “Tell me the truth, girl; are you the prophesied one? Are you the child we've been waiting for?”

“Please let me go. Please!” She trembled. “I didn't do anything!” Alexia closed her eyes and squeezed her fists tight. “Please!” Suddenly a strong wind ripped at her clothes as the wagon jerked forward, and the man wailed and loosened his grip. Alexia opened her eyes to see the farmer fall off the side. She was barely able to keep her footing as the wagon lurched to a stop.

For a moment, she didn't move
. What just happened?
The farmer lay on the ground with one leg bent at an impossible angle. His horse had collapsed to the ground as if dead.

Alexia looked around. Everyone on the street had stopped to watch. She turned and jumped from the side and darted away. As she ran, she noticed two more horses and a goat that also lay, unmoving, on the ground.

 

Chapter 5

A SHABBY PEN

Present day

 

The Drogule roared and leaped upward in an attempt to reach Elion. Yet the Sephari hovered just out of reach, taunting the monster with her otherworldly song. Jack let out a relieved breath. Had Elion not arrived, the Drogule would have smashed him to a pulp. There had been no more pillars to hide behind.

Jack darted beneath the Drogule and raced to a wooden door in the side of the palace.
Locked! What now?
Then he froze. An Oriax with the body of a tiger and the head and shoulders of a bear was directly in front of him. Jack jumped away as the beast bounced off the locked door and turned, growling. Jack scrambled back and threw a rock at its head, but the Oriax didn't even blink as the stone bounced away. As it stalked closer, Jack had nowhere left to run. He threw another rock, then swung his satchel. The Oriax snatched the leather bag out of the air with its teeth.

Jack glanced up at Elion in desperation. The Sephari still hovered above the square. Her hair glowed like the sun as stone, earth, and carriage spun round her in a tempest. She met Jack's eyes and offered a tight smile. As the Oriax leaped, Elion dropped her arms, and the spinning bricks and stones crashed into the dark army below.

Every Oriax near Jack was slammed aside by paving stone and brick, and throughout the square the beasts howled. The Drogule raged as the carriage collided with it, knocking the monster to its knees. Before it could rise, something exploded across the courtyard.

Boom!

The wall opposite Jack burst apart; a cannonball shot through the square and crashed into the Drogule. The monster let out a colossal roar as it shattered into a thousand stony pieces. Even as the Drogule died, the cannonball continued its flight and shattered the door Jack had just tried to open.

Jack shivered. Had he been standing one pace to the left, the cannonball would have removed his head from his shoulders. His legs felt like water as he stepped into the palace and ran down a dark corridor.

Five minutes later, Jack had not stopped running. He stormed through a passageway filled with elaborate tapestries and life-size statues. He'd passed three palace servants and one old woman who wore pajamas and shrieked, “Good heavens, child, slow down!”

When he finally stopped, Jack gasped for breath. He had no idea where he was or what he would do next.
Stop running like a madman!
he thought as he slowed his breathing.
Try to blend in!

He pulled his cloak over the pommel of his sword to hide it, and stopped.
The Atherial Cloak!
It was in the satchel he'd hurled at the Oriax. He wanted to kick himself for being so stupid.
If I had it now, I could use it to …
Jack stood perfectly still, holding his breath. He was standing directly in front of two guards. Both men were seated, with their heads leaning heavily against the wall.

Jack stepped closer and saw that both guards were sleeping. Unable to believe his luck, he tiptoed down the corridor until he heard voices coming from somewhere up ahead. He circled back the way he had come and saw the silhouettes of three sword-bearing men walking toward him. Jack was trapped as sure as a rabbit in a snare.

Holding his breath again, he tiptoed between the two guards and pushed on the door. When it swung soundlessly inward, Jack crept inside and closed it.
From the snare straight into the pot!
he thought. The chamber was enormous and lit by dozens of torches and three fire pits. At its center, a number of men in full military uniform were leaning over a table, studying a map.

A younger man, with black hair and three stripes on the arm of his uniform, spotted Jack. “Who are you, boy, and how did you get past the guards?”

Jack jumped. He opened his mouth but couldn't think of anything to say.

“Speak, or I'll have your hide,” the man threatened.

“T-the palace is u-under attack,” Jack stammered. He was far too flustered to think of a good enough lie, so he decided it might be best to tell the truth. “I was trying to hide. But I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll just leave now. So sorry!”

“My boy,” an older, gray-haired gentleman said. “There's no need to be afraid. We are not under attack. My lieutenant has been planning a surprise training exercise for the King's Guard. I am sure this is what you saw. But I do need you to answer truthfully—how did you get past the guards and into my war chamber?”

Jack looked at the older man and made a decision. “Sir, there is something evil in the courtyard … It's chasing me and my friends, and it's not a training exercise. Even now, some of the palace is being destroyed.” The older man's eyes widened.

“Preposterous!” A sandy-haired man stepped forward and offered Jack a scornful look. “Will someone get this boy out of our sight? He has wasted enough of our time.” The man turned to the older gentleman. “I am sorry, Your Majesty. But this boy is clearly delusional. I will question him myself when we are through here.”

It's the king!
Jack was suddenly breathless.
It's King Edward!

“Lieutenant Greyfield,” the older man said, “unless I am mistaken, I am the one who gives commands here. And sometimes it is the delusional who see most clearly.” He gave Jack a grandfatherly smile. “My dear boy, have no fear. So long as you speak the truth, no harm will come to you. Now, come here so I can get a better look at you.”

The raven-haired man who'd first spotted Jack stepped forward. “My king, may I suggest you don't allow the child to come too close? He may be a boy, but he is hiding a sword beneath that cloak.”

“General Blair.” The king offered a tired sigh. “I am surrounded by the best soldiers in all of Britain. And you may remember I also am none too shabby with a blade.” He looked at Jack and narrowed his eyes. “Child, I am not used to asking the same question more than once.”

Jack let out a long breath. Every eye was on him as he approached the king, and Jack abruptly realized he should probably bow or something. He dropped to his knees awkwardly as he realized he had no idea how to bow.

“Your Majesty, please, I'm not lying! There are monsters in the courtyard and even now they may be stalking the halls of your palace.”

The king stepped closer and knelt before Jack, lifting his face to the light. As he did, Jack saw the tiniest smile creep onto the king's lips. The king turned to his men. “The palace is under attack. Go now and rally the men.”

“Your Majesty, you can't be serious!” Lieutenant Greyfield erupted. “You would take the word of a child?”

“And take Lieutenant Greyfield to the dungeons,” the king said. “He has betrayed the crown.”

Without warning, Lieutenant Greyfield drew his sword and lunged at Jack. Yet King Edward moved like a viper, drawing his own sword and deflecting Greyfield's away. Greyfield fell at Jack's feet.

The king placed the tip of his sword against the lieutenant's back so he couldn't move. It all happened so quickly that none of the other men had so much as reached for their swords. All were shocked as they looked from the king to Greyfield.

“We have been betrayed, gentlemen.” The king spoke in a commanding voice. “Hear me! This attack does not come from normal men. All of you know of the dark happenings this past month, man and animal going insane and people disappearing by the thousands.” King Edward glared at Lieutenant Greyfield, who didn't dare move for fear of being run through.

“Tonight's attack comes from the same darkness that's been spreading throughout our land. Do not trust your eyes; trust your instincts. Even a mangy dog may be deadly. Now go; rally the King's Guard and defend the palace!”

Two men began dragging Greyfield out of the war chamber. “You won't escape, boy! The Shadow Lord demands your death for what you did! No matter where you run, we will find you! We are in every city and every kingdom. The end is near and the darkness is coming, night without end, Quagmire's—” The doors to the war chamber closed, and Greyfield was silenced at last.

The king turned to Jack. “Well now, that was rather unpleasant!” He smiled warmly. “The Author be praised! I am most honored to meet you, my dear boy.”

The king reached into his jacket pocket and carefully fished out a small leather pouch. He opened it to reveal an ancient-looking feathered pen. “This has been in my family for thousands of years,” the king said solemnly. “We have kept it safe, as we were commanded.” He bowed his head.

Jack looked from the pen to King Edward, unsure what was happening.

“Well,” the king said, “aren't you going to take it?”

“What is it?” Jack asked, utterly perplexed.

“It's a pen, of course! Beyond that, I honestly have no idea. I'd hoped you might be able to tell me.”

Jack took the pen, shaking his head.

“I assume it must be important in our war against the Assassin,” the king said. “If it doesn't mean anything now, I have no doubt it will be of the utmost importance in the future.”

The feather was worn and shabby, and the quill so dry and cracked that it would make a terrible pen. Besides seeming ancient, it didn't look any different from other feathered pens Jack had seen. He placed the pen back in the leather pouch, then inside his jacket pocket, wondering if King Edward might not be fully sane.

The king let out a long breath as he watched it disappear. “All I can tell you is that my family was commanded to keep the pen safe until you came to us. And we have faithfully waited these thousands of years.”

Jack just stood there, unsure if he should say thanks or something of the sort.

“Now, we haven't much time.” The king turned and walked toward a corner of the war chamber. “If the attack has made it into the palace, then I assume someone has betrayed you. Let's get you to the World Portal before it's too late, shall we?”