The Legend Thief (35 page)

Solomon Rose stood alone and unmoving in a forest of fallen trees. He looked like Sky remembered from earlier—like an Echo—with leathery black wings spread out and branchy arms raised. White gobbets of eye clung to Solomon’s lacerated trunk, and his mouth was open wide so that Sky could see the Eye of Legend staring out at him through the darkness.

As they approached, Sky saw lightning strike Solomon's upheld branches.

Solomon shivered. Then his branches swept down and he let out a terrible roar that shook Sky to his bones.

The roar turned into a bellow and Solomon thrashed around, clawing at his eyes. One of his branches swept over Morton's small group, and he stopped. "Who is there?" Solomon rumbled. "What year is this?"

The question surprised Sky, but then he remembered that only Errand had been able to edgewalk outside the prison, and then only because of his unique link with Sky. Without Errand, Solomon would have been completely cut off from the world.

"The year of your freedom, and the year of our reconciliation,
Solomon Rose,"
said Morton, sliding off the Gossymer and approaching Solomon.

Sky glanced at Ambrosia and saw her stiffen. Did she believe him now? She had come expecting to free her father, the Arkhon, and instead she'd found his usurper, just as Sky had told her.

Solomon growled, low and deep. "That is a dangerous name, even from you, Morton Thresher."

"So it's true? When this boy," Morton gestured at Chase, "fed me this fanciful tale about the legendary Solomon Rose, my former apprentice, dwelling in the Arkhon's body, I had to admit to a bit of skepticism. But it's really you in there, isn't it?"

Solomon laughed, and it shook Sky like thunder. "Now you believe? Have you come to kill me then,
master?"

"Of course not!"
Morton snarled. "All these years, Solomon, I could've helped you! When Alexander brought your body to the Academy, everyone thought you dead by the Arkhon's hands. And I thought you dead by Alexander's cowardice. I stabbed him through the neck with his own blade."

"Did you
really?"
Solomon chuckled, sounding quite amused.

"Yes . . . ," said Morton slowly. "We've brought you something."

Morton signaled, and Ambrosia slid off the Gossymer with Crenshaw in her arms. As she did, Crenshaw's arm popped out, dangling to the side. Ambrosia glanced down and stopped. Her eyes lifted to meet Sky's: Crenshaw didn't have any marks on his palm.

She knew.

Sky's heart beat pitter-pat. If she gave him up, he and Errand would be toast.

Then Ambrosia did something entirely unexpected: She grabbed Crenshaw's arm and tucked it against her so the hand was hidden. Ambrosia nodded once at Sky, and then walked off to join Morton.

"Excellent!" Morton exclaimed, turning back to Solomon. "I believe you are familiar with Sky Weathers?"

Solomon hissed, his branchy arms reaching greedily for Crenshaw. Ambrosia pivoted her body, stopping him.

"For four hundred years I've struggled to keep you free and help you, like a good daughter. I've honored you despite your mistakes and cruelty. You told me you lied to the hunters, that you told them you were Solomon to taunt them. But you lied to me. I am not
your
daughter," Ambrosia spat. "Does my father live?"

Solomon lowered his useless eyes as if to stare into Ambrosia's. Sky knew Solomon couldn't see, not with his eyes, at any rate, but his branchy arms were every bit as sensitive, if not more so.

"You have known me longer than you knew him, Ambrosia," Solomon rumbled. "We have passed through darkness and glory and ruin together, you and
I
. Have I not been like a father to you?"

"DOES HE LIVE?" Ambrosia screamed.

Solomon growled. "No. I do not believe he does."

Ambrosia's head dropped, and when she looked up again, Sky saw tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Solomon. That is all I needed to know."

She offered Crenshaw to Solomon again.

Solomon paused, as if considering, and then his branchy arms wrapped around Crenshaw.

Sky glanced at Errand, wondering what to do. Crenshaw was a despicable jerk, but they couldn't just allow Solomon to kill him. "We've got to stop him," Sky whispered.

"Relax," Errand whispered back. "Solomon needs one of us. He won't hurt Crenshaw ... much."

Solomon roared. Sky jerked his head around and saw Crenshaw lying on the ground and Ambrosia hanging from one of Solomon's arms by her teeth. Solomon flipped his arm and sent Ambrosia flying. She crashed to the ground among the fallen trees, lying motionless.

"Ungrateful spawn!" Solomon rumbled.

"Not spawn you have to worry about, fortunately," said Morton. "You have the boy, and soon you can reclaim what is rightfully yours. You are a hero! The Hunters of Legend will rejoice at your return!"

Morton's hunters cheered at his words. "Yes ... a hero...," Solomon rumbled.

Sky nearly gave himself away, he was so mad. Solomon was no hero. He was a power-hungry vulture of the worst kind.

"It's time to depart," said Morton.

Solomon rumbled in agreement and reached for Crenshaw again, but as his arms slithered around him, he hesitated. "Morton, what is this?"

Crenshaw's arm had flopped out at a weird angle, clearly showing the absence of the marks.

"Oh, crap," Sky whispered.

Morton knelt down. The skin on his palm peeled back, and Sky saw the Eye of Legend. Black veins spread through Morton's skin, turning his entire hand midnight blue. He tapped several spots on Crenshaw's face. The spots turned black and Crenshaw's skin drooped, cascading down in huge wrinkly waves.

"Double crap," said Errand.

''That's not going to happen to us, is it?" Sky hissed quietly, staring at Crenshaw's flabby waves of flesh.

"Not if we die first," Errand whispered back.

Morton turned suspicious eyes on them and squeezed the pommel of his cane. The black casing folded up to become the crosspiece, revealing the shimmering blade beneath.

"You gave him what for, eh?" said Morton walking slowly toward them as they backed away.

"That we did," said Errand. "Just look at the fellow." "Knocked the marks right off of him, I see," said Morton, holding the shimmering blade casually at his side. "And what about you, Crenshaw, did you give him what for?"

"Jolly right, I did," said Sky, doing a horrible imitation of Crenshaw's voice and adding the British accent for no apparent reason.

The Gossymer scuttled behind Sky and Errand, blocking their retreat, and Morton came to a stop right in front of them. He tapped both of their faces, not with his hand, but with his shimmering blade, filling it with darkness. Their skin sagged horribly, and then slapped back into place with a smacking sound.

Their disguises were gone, and they were now identical.

"Changelings," Morton sneered.

Solomon laughed.
"Surprise."

At that moment Phineas exploded out of the ground, knocking Sky and Errand one way and Morton the other.

Phineas-still posing as Winston Snavely-landed and pointed his blade at Morton.

The grove went silent.

Phineas started to cough, choking on the dust. "One minute," Phineas wheezed, holding up his index finger-the universal sign for "give me a minute."

Morton used the break to scurry away. The Gossymer and Morton's hunters joined him as he hid beneath Solomon Rose's protective branches.

Solomon laughed, a deep belly chuckle that shook the dead grove. "Don't worry, Morton,
I
will protect you."

"You could've had him," Errand hissed, dusting himself off as he and Sky stood. Sky pulled on his skin, and when it snapped back into place quite normally, he sighed in relief.

"I'm sorry-was my entrance not dramatic enough for you?" Phineas coughed. "I can go back and try it again, if you like."

"Winston, your timing is most unfortunate," said Morton, unaware of Phineas’ disguise.

Phineas held up his index finger again, hacked, lowered the finger, hacked again, raised it, raised it, almost hacked, and then stood and composed himself, lowering the finger entirely. "Morton," Phineas coughed. "Sorry I'm late for the party. I had a detour that couldn't be helped."

"You shouldn't have come, Winston. We have no quarrel."

"Bully that," Phineas spat. "You killed my son."

Morton's eyes went wide, and for the first time Sky saw true fear on his face.

"Phineas...,"said Morton, sounding terrified.

Phineas’ face drooped and then slapped back into place. And where Winston Snavely had stood, Sky saw Phineas T. Pimiscule.

"You've hidden behind the Hunters of Legend for four hundred years, Morton, but you've stuck your neck out too far this time," Phineas snarled.

"In all fairness," said Morton, regaining his composure, "Alexander was your
adopted
son. His untimely death was hardly worth ruining a friendship over."

"Untimely? You stabbed a sword through his neck!" Phineas exclaimed.

"Not in a way that could be proved," said Morton. Solomon started laughing. "Ah, Alexander, my brother, you've trapped us all!" Solomon laughed and laughed.

"It appears that it's time for us to depart," said Morton, stepping closer to Solomon.

"I'm not leaving without what I came for," Solomon rum bled, his useless eyes turning on Sky and Errand. "The Hunter's Mark is mine."

"By all means, Solomon," said Phineas. "Don't let me stand in your way."

"Patience, Solomon," said Morton, eyeing Phineas warily. "They will come to us in time."

Solomon grumbled.

Sky spotted a club like branch with a good knot on the end and picked it up. He had Crenshaw's sword, but he feared he might poke someone with it harder than he intended. He wanted to incapacitate these hunters, not kill them. He'd treat them the same way he treated monsters, even if Morton and his hunters didn't deserve it.

"Who was it, Solomon? Who made us Changelings?" Errand cried out. "Tell us! If you ever cared for me, tell us!"

Solomon growled. "Come with us and I will tell you every thing you want to know, Errand. Even now, you have not gone far from me. Only I can give you what you need, the power you crave, the family you desire. I can give you a life worthy of song and story, a name no one will ever forget. Come with me, Errand. By the law of the Hunters of Legend, you are still my apprentice. You belong to me."

Sky saw Errand hesitate, his body shaking as if he was actually considering Solomon's offer. Sky began to open his mouth, but Phineas shook his head ever so slightly.

Errand's mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally spoke. "Just tell me, Solomon.
Please
... ,
"he begged.
"Soon, Errand.
Soon," Solomon rumbled.

Sky heard a distant roar above the booming thunder of the ongoing plasma storm and the shaking earth. Then through the stained glass wall a short distance to the east, he saw Bedlam's army rushing through the trees. Dozens of towering Harrow Knights with coppery, smoldering skin charged the wall, followed by hundreds of fiery Harrow Wights and Gossymers.

"I wish we'd had time to talk, old friend, but I see that your other guests have finally arrived," said Morton. Solomon's branchy arms dipped down and Morton climbed aboard, along with Morton's hunters.

Errand drew his silver sword.

"Always a pleasure, Phineas," said Morton, tipping his bowler hat to them.

Sky pulled out his Tin shield and flipped it open, curling the edge. He held the Tin in one hand and the knotted branch in the other.

With a blood-pounding scream, Sky, Errand, and Phineas charged, but before they could reach Morton, an Echo rose out of the darkness and slammed into Solomon.