Bad Apple (The Warner Grimoire) (16 page)

“I’m doing fine,” Simon said. “We’re on our way to the Archives.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Well, fancy that, then. I’m going that way too. Right off the North path. You want to head out together?”

“No thanks. I’m waiting on my host.”

“Just look at you,” Luke sneered. “The good little guest. I’m sure you’re just going to sit right there on your lumpy old couch and just wait for Boeman to walk right up with directions to where he’s keeping your guardian.”

Simon jumped up. “How do you know--”

“Word gets around, Stray. The walls have ears. People are talking about the apple of the Warner line. Not often a lost apple shows up. You’re big news.”

“I am?”

“One of the severed lines of descent just wanders in out of the woods? One of the original founding lines, the one that went about as
rotten
as you can get? Yeah, I’d call that big news.”

“What are you saying, rotten?” Simon asked.

Luke sat up. Simon couldn’t tell if the look of surprise on his face was genuine or not. “You mean you don’t know about your own family? The Warner line goes all the way back to the founding of Silverwood. There’s more than one Warner on that wall in the foyer. Every one of them good, until your dad. After he came along, well...” He chuckled. “This must be hard, right? Find out about all this, only to learn you’re the son of a bona-fide
warlock
.”

Simon gulped. “How’s that any different than anybody else?”

Luke’s face soured. “You really don’t know anything, do you? It’s in the eyes. They’re called the window to the soul for a reason. Warlocks souls are different. They’re...” he trailed off.

“They’re what?”

“Kind of...well,
green
,” Luke said. “You see it when they use their power. Their souls have gone
rotten
with power.”

“And green is bad?”

“Not always, but it’s an easy way to spot a warlock.”

Simon glanced at the mirror. He wondered what color his eyes might glow, if they even did. Could they? “So what did my dad do?”

Luke smiled. “Well that’s it. No one’s too sure where the damage
stopped
. The only
real
way to know what went down is to read the official transcripts of his trial.”

“He was on trial?”

“He was...until he fled,” Luke said. “Most figured he fled to his master’s hold out at sea.”

Simon stared at Luke. “How do you know all this?”

“Are you kidding?” Luke laughed. “Everyone knows the story of the
Walking Shadow
. The Fallen One. That’s why you’re such a big deal,
Son of the Rotten
. People want to see how far the apple has fallen from the tree.”

The apple
. That’s what Nathan had called him. “Where are the transcripts?” he asked.

“Same place they keep everything else,” Luke said. “The Archives.”

Burning, sickening curiosity flared inside Simon. He stared long and hard at Luke. In five minutes he had learned more about his parents than all his time with Nathan, and really, how was Luke any less trustworthy than Nathan? At least this way he might actually
get to learn something
real
about his parents. He thought another moment, then locked the door to his room. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Luke led Simon out through a door off of the dining room and cut through the gardens, whistling as they passed a small stone statue of two frogs sharing a tiny stone bench. Maggey darted out from under the statues straight to Luke and bobbed happily around his shoulder, whizzing around a few times in the air before settling down on his shoulder and winking back to sleep.

Simon got a clearer picture of the estate as they followed the North path away from the house. People hurried into and out of the house, most making their way to one of numerous smaller buildings around the estate. The Grim House sat far on the south end of the grounds, away from the other buildings, tucked inside its own small grove of twisted trees. The people walking by it all seemed to avert their eyes as they passed, not only as if the house wasn’t there, but as if they were trying to will it out of existence. A few young children, clinging to their parents’ side stopped to look and point at the house, only to be scooped up by their parents and hurried along towards any one of the smaller buildings that dotted the grounds. All around them the wilderness pressed in, held back only by the same ancient stone wall Simon had passed through that morning.

The Archives were almost as large and as complicated as the manor, and built in the same mixture of styles. It stood at the end of its own path, almost tall enough to blot out the morning sun, and stone gargoyles were perched high on several of the edges of the multileveled roof, silently peering down as the two boys entered.

“After you,” Luke said, standing aside to let Simon enter first. Simon rolled his eyes, then pushed the large door open and stepped inside, with Luke crowding in behind him. The front desk was right in front of them, semicircular and occupying almost the entire first floor. Staircases swept up either side to the second floor, where the walls of books began. Row after row of shelves faded into the distance, dozen of them, the back wall barely visible, and magnificent columns reached from the ground through every floor all the way to the ceiling. Small wooden walkways were visible among the shelves on the higher floors, some winding around several shelves, then some even turning and running in long stretches through the open air. There were at least a dozen floors, and every one was open in the middle, allowing a clear view of the stained-glass skylight at the very top. Visible shafts of colored light filtered down, and dust could be seen floating through the shafts of light. Simon and Luke stood in the pattern of light cast down through the skylight, which fell right in front of the circulation desk. Everything else was lit in yellow from the light coming through the large side windows, and the entire place smelled of pine trees and honey. Behind the counter was an office that appeared to occupy the rest of the modest first floor.

“Whoa,” Luke said quietly. “Lot of books.”

Simon shot him a suspicious look. “I thought you’d been here before.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, that’s right. Plenty of times.” Luke started towards the counter ahead of them. “Just been a while. That’s all.”

“Can I help you boys?” A slender young woman appeared behind the counter. She had raven-black hair pulled behind her head into a ponytail, and a pair of glasses hung recklessly from her neck. She had bright blue eyes, and besides those and her dark hair, she looked strikingly like the young girl Simon had seen at the meeting. She had a tray on the counter in front of her, and it was full of tiny mechanical pieces made out of silver and brass. The pieces clicked and whirred quietly as they tried to assemble themselves into something Simon couldn’t even begin to guess. When he looked up from the pile of gears her eyes seemed to stab right through Simon.

“We, uh, hello,” Simon said, not at all as at ease as he wanted to sound.

“Smooth,” Luke whispered. The young woman’s eyes softened only slightly, the smallest smile slipping through.

“We’re looking for...” He looked at Luke, who gave no help whatsoever. “Something.” Simon felt his face grow hot.

She smiled. “A book, perhaps?”

“Yes!” Simon shouted abruptly, then shook his head. “I mean, no. Maybe. I need to know where I can find information on--well, on my, I mean--”

“Bloodlines,” Luke said, finally chiming in. “Next to Dark Bargains, right? Just point us in the direction, we can find it.”

“I don’t know,” the woman said coyly. “You have the right idea. I think you two could use an escort, perhaps?”

“I think we’ll be fine.” Luke straightened his shoulders, and put on his best smile. “No need for you to trouble yourselves with us.”

“Nonsense,” said the woman, never taking her strikingly blue eyes off Luke. “I’ll get my sister.
Penny
!” she boomed, her voice thundering off of every wall of the Archives echoing down all the shelves and back again. Her voice reached the top of the rafters and slowly died away, and silence filled the room again. “Hmph,” she said after no one appeared. “One moment.” The woman stepped away from the counter into the office behind her. “Wait right here please.”

“C’mon,” Luke said when she had gone. “We don’t need a babysitter. I know where we’re going. It’s this way,” he said, pointing towards a hallway leading down to the right. “Bloodlines are down here.”

“Not anymore, said a quiet, squeaky voice from above. The red-haired girl from the meeting spoke from a balcony overhead. It
was
the girl from the meeting earlier. “We moved the bloodline section last spring. It’s between the section on reanimation and Forgotten Lore now.” Climbing down a ladder she added, “Not too many people come looking for bloodline information. Most have their own records. You two don’t seem like you’re too...
documented
, are you?”

“Apprentice, second year,” Luke said, holding out his hand first. “Visiting with my mentor.”

“Visiting?” Her eyes narrowed. “Which order?”

“Delta,” Luke added, always smiling. “Up from the bayou.”

“Hello,” Simon said. “I’m a visitor, too.”

“Don’t mind him, Strawberry. He’s just a guest,” Luke stepped in front of Simon. “He doesn’t belong here.”

“I’m the son of Tom Warner,” Simon added, irritated.

“Oh,” the girl said, her eyes focusing on him for the first time. They were lakes of emerald flecked with purple and gold. “That explains the interest in bloodlines.” She looked at Luke. “What do you need, exactly?”

“Oh, well,” Luke said, “I’m just helping my friend out here. Helping him find out where he comes from, if he has any lands. Things like that, you know.”

“Friend?” Simon asked, insulted. “You tried to steal my backpack earlier.”

“Misunderstanding,” Luke said, more to the girl than Simon. “I thought it was mine.”

“Sure, sure,” she said absently. Her eyes started to float around aimlessly. She tilted her head all the way to one side. “My sister called for me. Was it to help you?”

The pile of silver pieces on the counter chirped and clicked, then fell apart spectacularly. An instant later the older sister appeared in front of the counter. “There you are! Where in
the Moat
have you been?”

“I was cataloging the new Vaudevire donation, Jo.” She yawned. “Right where I said I would be.”

“Penelope Jane Nettle,” Jo snapped. “Don’t you fluster more fairies than you can catch. These two need help. Can I trust you to handle that?”

“Yes, Jo.”

“Yes, Jo,
what
?”

“Yes, Jo, Queen of Books.”

Jo’s eyes brightened. “
And?
”

“Books and Smarts.” Penny stood straight. “Queen of Smarts.”

“Thank you,” Jo said, satisfied. She put on her glasses and resumed with her copper and brass pieces. “Take them to Bloodlines.”

“Follow me,” Penny said. She moved quietly down the hallway, her hands tracing along the walls lightly as they walked. The floor beneath them suddenly went from hardwood flooring to lush, red carpet, and the walls went from wood paneling to eggshell paint and plaster. The Archive was just as cobbled together as the main house.

“Which bloodline are you looking for? The mother’s line, or the father’s?”

Simon wasn’t sure what to say. “Warner, I guess.”

“Oh we have lots on them,” she said. “All the way back to the first colonies, I think. It’s been a while since I’ve catalogued the Warner line, but I believe everything should be up to date, up to and including the trial--”

The doors to the Archives slammed open, the echo careening down every hall. “SIMON!” Nathan boomed through the still air. “SIMON! Where in the Moat are you!”

Simon froze. Nathan continued to shout for him, prowling around the circulation desk, leaning over the counter. “Hello?” he shouted. “Hello? SIMON!”

Simon slowly turned around. “I’m here,” he called out, just a little louder than normal, but not quite a shout.

Nathan fixed his eyes on Simon, and the muscles in his throat tightened. “Simon,” he said, his voice calmer than Simon expected “What have I said about wandering? You see another fairy zip all the way down here? Thought you would follow it again? How well did that work for you last time?”

“I brought him,” Luke said suddenly. “I saw you two, and sir
,
you looked
exceptionally
tired, and, well, I had heard you talking, and figured since this was where you were heading next, that I would be able to render my assistance--”

“Quiet.” Nathan stared at Luke, his eyes sweeping over him more carefully than before. “Simon, you need to stay with me. We stick together, not you two, got it?”