Quest for the Secret Keeper (26 page)

Theo pointed to the string around his neck holding the pouch with the Star of Lixus. “You’ll speak perfect
German,” she insisted. “And with our fair hair we shouldn’t stand out. We can blend in until we find the Thinker.”

“What’s she going on about?” Carl demanded, clearly irritated by the prospect of venturing into enemy territory.

“The Thinker,” Ian said glumly. “You’re the Metal Master, which would make the next Oracle the Thinker.”

“You can’t seriously be thinking of going through the portal, can you?” Thatcher asked.

Ian cast a reluctant stare at his schoolmaster. “I’m afraid there’s no help for it,” he said, stepping over the line and turning to look back at them.

Theo promptly joined him but Ian took her by the shoulders, pivoted her around, and sent her back to the other side of the marker. “Absolutely not,” he said to her. “I’ll not risk your life too.”

Theo glared at him and fought against his firm hands. “Stop it, Ian! You’ll need me!”

Carl sighed heavily and took a large step forward. “I’ll look after him, Theo,” he said, reaching out to stop her when she tried to dart sideways across the line. “And please, don’t tell Eva I’ve done something so stupid.”

But Theo was ignoring Carl at the moment. “Let me come!” she demanded, her face red with determination.

“No,” Ian said firmly. “Carl and I will manage on our own.”

Thatcher reached over and held Theo by the shoulders. “Ian and Carl are right. It’s far too dangerous this time.”

Perry made a disgruntled sound, stepping over to stand beside Ian and Carl. “I’ve a feeling I’m going to regret this,” he muttered when Ian smiled gratefully at him.

“Perry!” his brother snapped. “Get back here this instant! You’re wearing your uniform, for heaven’s sake!”

But Perry merely shrugged out of his coat and tossed it to Thatcher. “I’ll steal something from one of the locals,” he said. “Until then, no one’s going to notice my trousers and boots as anything but fashionable.”

Theo, who still appeared furious, reached up and took off the pouch containing her bit of the Star of Lixus. She tossed it to Perry and said, “Here, Schoolmaster. Please look after Ian and Carl.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Perry said. “I shall bring them back, I promise.”

And then something unexpected happened. Iyoclease crossed the line and stood next to them too. “What are you doing?” Adria demanded.

“I can see that there is danger in this land,” he said calmly. “They will need a soldier to protect them.”

“No! It’s too dangerous, Iyoclease! We must get you back home to your own time!” Adria insisted.

Iyoclease shook his head stubbornly. “I cannot believe that my only purpose within the prophecy was to helm a ship, Adria. There
must
be a larger reason why I’m here. And I believe that reason is to see these young men safely through this part of their quest.”

Adria appeared completely astonished, as if she couldn’t believe the man dared argue with her. “Iyoclease, I insist
you come back over this line so that I can send you back to Laodamia at once!”

“You may send me back when I return,” he said, and the last of his sentence was all but drowned out when there was a very loud grating noise and the wall appeared in front of them, sealing everyone on the other side out of view.

For several long seconds no one said a word. They all just stared at the stone, which held the skeleton again. After a moment or two, Perry cleared his throat. “Very well, then,” he said. “Where did Laodamia say we must start?”

Ian pulled the prophecy from his pocket and began to scan the lines. “She said something about going where our hearts would fear to tread.…”

“We can check that one off,” Carl said, turning to stare with distaste at the billowing flags below.

Ian ignored him and was about to suggest they form some sort of plan when a grating sound behind them made them turn back to the wall. Adria appeared with her arms crossed over her chest while Thatcher and Theo, somewhat astonished, stood in the background. With a determined look, Adria stepped over the line where the wall had been, then pivoted and thrust her hands down and out. The wall closed immediately.

“If Iyoclease will not cooperate, then I’ve no choice but to help you see this part of your quest through as well.”

“Where should we begin?” Perry asked.

Adria squinted straight down the bluff to a cluster of buildings resembling an abbey or a church. “There,” she
said. “That’s as good a place as any to start. We can approach the abbey through the woods, spy on it and the inhabitants from the cover of the trees, and hopefully glean some details about what part of Germany or Austria we’re in.”

Without further discussion Adria began walking purposefully down the steep hill. Ian didn’t hesitate to follow her and was relieved when Carl came up beside him. “This is pure madness,” Carl grumbled.

They had to cross a roadway at one point, and the five of them were nearly hit by a speeding motorcar that beeped rudely at them as it passed by. Ian’s heart thundered as he scuttled across the road. He’d caught a glimpse of the red, white, and black flag painted on the side of the black sedan, and it sent a ripple of fear straight through him.

Adria hastened them into a clump of nearby woods for shelter, and luck seemed to be on their side, because the car didn’t double back to take a better look at them.

Their good fortune held when they realized that the woods butted up to the side of the cluster of buildings and they were able to approach it under the cover of the forest.

Spreading out to use the trees to hide their advance, the five of them peeked out at the abbey. Carl didn’t seem to like his tree, however, because he scooted over to sit next to Ian behind a large fir.

Once Carl had settled, Ian realized immediately that the car that had nearly run them down was just then pulling to a stop in front of the main entrance. Before the occupants of the car could exit, however, the door to the
building flew open and out poured a huge crowd of young boys, rushing into the early-morning sun.

“It’s a school!” Carl whispered.

Ian had a sudden dreadful thought. What if the Thinker was one of those boys? How would they ever discover him hidden so well amid such a large crowd?

Ian and Carl watched the swarm of boys and young men, clustered in small groups, talking and joking with each other just like Ian and the other orphans at Delphi Keep used to do before morning lessons began.

But there was one serious difference between the two scenes, and that was that these young boys were his sworn enemies.

With a jolt, Ian realized that the fifth Oracle was also certain to be an enemy. Carl seemed to come to the same conclusion. “Why do I think that our next Oracle’s going to be a bloomin’ Nazi?”

“Laodamia warned us that the fifth Oracle’s heart would not be true to our cause,” Ian said.

“I’m not bringing back a bloody
German
to join our ranks, Ian!” Carl hissed.

“We’ve no choice, Carl,” Ian told him firmly. “If we don’t add him, we can’t complete the final prophecy.”

Carl’s face turned red with anger but he didn’t argue further. Ian hoped he could contain his emotions until they’d managed to bring back the next Oracle.

A bell sounded from inside and the boys dashed back to the entrance. Within moments the grounds were still and peaceful again.

Ian’s attention was then diverted to the black sedan parked near the front doors. He didn’t remember seeing anyone exit the car, and sure enough, at that moment the door opened and out of it came a young lad of about eleven or so. From the driver’s side came someone else, whom Ian and Carl recognized immediately.

“Wolfie!” snapped Dieter Van Schuft impatiently when the young boy slouched and hung his head. “Stand up straight, will you!”

From the door of the school, a priest appeared, stepping quickly to the pair.

“Laodamia better not have meant him!” Carl growled quietly.

Ian was silent. He stared, stunned, at the man he and Carl knew all too well—the man who had attempted to abduct and murder both Ian and Theo two years earlier, and whose wife had nearly shot Ian a year later while in Spain. And then Ian’s attentions turned to the boy—clearly Dieter’s son—as he darted away from his father, who was chasing him and working himself into a furious temper. “Papa, I don’t want to stay here!” the boy shouted.

The priest stepped close to the boy and held out his hand. “Come with me, young man. I will show you to your room.”

Wolfie stopped long enough to stare intently up at the priest. A moment later the man turned to Dieter and said, “He really shouldn’t stay here. I suggest he go back home with you, Herr Van Schuft.”

Ian blinked. What had caused the priest to change his mind so quickly?

“Wolfie!” Dieter snarled, catching hold of his son’s arm roughly. “Stop that this instant!”

The priest seemed to wobble on his feet, and he shook his head as if to clear it. “Oh, my,” he said, staring at Wolfie and his father as if seeing them for the first time. “Herr Van Schuft. It’s so good to see you again. And this must be your son?”

Dieter forced a smile onto his face, his fingers turning white around the boy’s arm from holding him so tightly. “Yes, Father Zeiler, this is my son, Wolfgang. Wolfie for short.”

Father Zeiler offered Wolfie his hand, and the boy ignored it until his father smacked him hard on the back of the head. Ian winced. It looked to have been a hard blow.

Wolfie rubbed his head, then grudgingly took the priest’s hand and shook it once before letting it go, pointing his eyes to the ground.

“He lost his mother last year,” Dieter explained, and Ian’s brow rose in surprise. He wondered if Frau Van Schuft had died in Spain after all.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Herr Van Schuft,” the priest said. “Illness, was it?”

Dieter let go of his son and appeared to hold himself rigidly. “Yes,” he said. Shaking his head, clearly doubting the story, Carl looked at Ian.

“It was very abrupt and sudden,” Dieter went on, his
hands trembling slightly. “She collapsed in the middle of the night and never woke up again.”

“That’s a lie!”
Wolfie yelled, looking up with accusing eyes at his father. “She was murdered and you let it happen!”

“Wolfie!” Dieter gasped, his face turning red with embarrassment. “Keep silent!”

The priest appeared quite taken aback by the outburst and even more so by the accusation. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Wolfie went on. “That hateful man, Magus, murdered my mother. And you stood by and let it happen!”

In the next instant Dieter slapped his son so hard the boy spun in a full circle and fell to the ground. Ian flinched again and felt renewed hatred for the despicable man. He wondered if there had been anyone else about—some of the other children or even another priest—whether Van Schuft would have openly struck his son.

Dieter stepped over to the now crouching form of his son, his hands curled into fists. Ian was certain he would rain down more violence on Wolfie, but instead, he continued to hover over him until finally the boy was brave enough to look up. When he did, Dieter spoke in the most threatening tone Ian could have imagined. “
Never
speak of that again!” he ordered.

The side of Wolfie’s face where his father had struck him was bright red and his eyes looked to be brimming with tears, but he didn’t flinch and he didn’t cry. He merely nodded and stood up.

The priest still looked quite shocked by the violent outburst,
and Dieter seemed to notice his expression for the first time. What he said next took Ian by surprise. “Fix the priest, Wolfie.”

The priest’s eyes darted to Dieter. “Excuse me?” he said.

Wolfie continued to stare rebelliously at the ground.

“Do it now!” Dieter demanded.

The priest turned his attention back to the boy, who had lifted his chin and was now looking at him intently. A moment later the priest seemed to wobble backward again, barely catching himself before shaking his head and staring at both Dieter and Wolfie as if he was surprised to see them. “Ah, Herr Van Schuft! It’s so good to see you again! And this must be your son, Wolfgang is it?”

Carl turned to Ian. “We’re in a load of bloody trouble, mate,” he whispered.

M
agus the Black stirred in the dark chamber that imprisoned him. Having no sense of time, he wondered how many months had passed since his sister Lachestia had entombed him. He could hear her rumbling through the earth now and then and wondered why she hadn’t left him to pursue other entertainment. He considered that he might have caused her some harm in the last powerful exchange they’d had before she’d somehow gotten the better of him.

Leaning against the cold stone, he thought about what had become of his pets. He had left them to roam the mountains and await his return. Would the hellhounds eventually realize he was never coming back? Would they come in search of him?

Part of him hoped they would. Every day he grew just a bit weaker. In time, nothing would remain of him except a pile of ash.

The stone next to his head vibrated. Lachestia was on the move again.

Tired of the dark, he snapped his fingers, and a small flame grew from his fingertips. He stared forlornly at his surroundings: six stone slabs forming a solid box of doom. In the crevices between the slabs he could see small bits of dirt, seeping through and muddying the floor. Not only was he entombed, but he was buried too.

If only he had a bit of kindling to start a real fire, he could then call on his father to help him. He knew the great and mighty Demogorgon would never stand for this. But besides the dirt and an occasional bug, the box was empty. Well, empty except for Magus, of course.

With a sigh, the sorcerer allowed the flame from his fingertips to sputter out. What was the point? There was nothing to see, and the flame hardly gave him comfort anymore.

Magus lay down flat on his back and stared up at the dark. What he needed was for one of his other sisters to come looking for him. He knew that wouldn’t happen unless either Caphiera and Atroposa angered their father and he ordered them to, or they required his help to carry out some evil plot. Atroposa would never come into Lachestia’s territory on her own. His only hope was Caphiera, and she was nearly as dangerous and deadly to him as Lachestia.