Jack Staples and the City of Shadows (5 page)

Chapter 6

THE GANG OF TERROR

 

Alexia had followed the leather-faced captain for almost an hour. After more twists and turns than she could count, she was no closer to rescuing Wild.
Wake up, you wool-head!
She willed Wild to regain consciousness.
You can't expect me to save you
and
carry you!

Every time Alexia looked at the captain, a shiver ran down her spine. She'd tried to forget that morning in Belfast when the farmer had almost kidnapped her. Yet now that she thought about it, it had only been when he'd seen her eyes that he'd changed. He must have known then that Alexia was one of the Children of Prophecy. Somehow that same farmer had become a captain of the King's Guard.

With the Atherial Cloak to hide her, Alexia thought she might be able to use her sling to knock out six or seven of the men before they knew what hit them. But she definitely couldn't take all fifteen. In the meantime, she kept a close eye on Wild. She would need his help if she were going to properly rescue him.

At any other time, Alexia would have gawked. Buckingham Palace was beyond anything she'd imagined. The corridors went on forever and were filled with elaborate tapestries and impressive statues. But she didn't care about any of it. All she wanted was to rescue Wild and get safely away.
If the boy doesn't wake up soon
, she thought irritably,
I'll punch him in the nose!

The captain abruptly stopped and turned to his men. “You lot stay here and stop anyone who tries to follow. The two of you”—he motioned to the men dragging Wild—“follow me.” He turned and stalked down a dark stairwell. Even with a limp, he was surprisingly quick.

This may be my chance!
Alexia darted past the guards. She should be able to knock out all three men. She placed a stone in the fold of her sling and readied herself as she followed the captain down a seemingly endless staircase.

I bet they're taking Wild to the dungeons!
Mrs. Dumphry had brought them here to use something called a World Portal—she'd said it was located just below the dungeons. Alexia decided to hold off. She would allow the men to carry Wild down. If they stopped at the dungeons, she would knock them out and carry him the rest of the way; if they led her to this World Portal, even better.

The deeper they descended, the rougher the walls became, shifting from brick and mortar to hewn stone. When they finally reached the bottom, the captain knocked loudly on a small metal door. As the door opened, Alexia almost hissed. She knew the young man standing on the other side. His name was Petrus, and he was the cruelest boy she'd ever met.

“Who's this, then?” Petrus growled, looking as if he'd sucked on a lemon.

“He's one of them,” the captain said. “Now move aside before I skin your hide for slowing us.”

Petrus's grimace deepened, but he stepped back and allowed the men through. Just as he was about to close the door, Alexia loosed her stone so it ricocheted off a nearby wall. As Petrus turned to look, she slipped past him.

When she saw the group of young men and women waiting on the other side, she almost fainted. Alexia knew all of them. By the looks of it, every last member of the Gang of Terror was here. Alexia was as tense as a bowstring.

Six years and two months earlier

Alexia had entered the grand city with excitement welling in her heart, but it hadn't taken long to realize that Belfast was a dangerous place. It was nothing like her father had explained. Or maybe it was better to say that there were two, very different worlds within the city.

In one world, everything was bright and clean. The people were well dressed and spoke in a proper-sounding accent. They went about their daily business without seeming to notice the world boiling just beneath.

Those who lived in the second world were a far more cunning and dangerous lot. They made their homes in the back alleys and sewers of the city. They were purse-snatchers, cutthroats, thieves, and urchins; they were vagrants and vagabonds, and they ruled the night. People from the first world who found themselves on the streets past dark were usually lucky if they still had their smallclothes by morning.

Stealing and fighting were the only rules that mattered in the second world. The wealthy pretended not to notice the urchins unless they were standing face-to-face. If this happened, they would either toss a few pence or call the police. Yet the police were the cruelest of them all. Those they arrested were usually never seen again.

In the past weeks Alexia had narrowly escaped being robbed, beaten, and arrested. She spent her nights sleeping on the rooftops, wrapped tightly in a blanket she'd stolen from a washing line. She'd learned quick enough that the higher she went, the safer she was. No one else seemed to want to sleep on the rooftops.

Alexia knew she couldn't stay on the roofs forever. Winter had arrived and it was quickly becoming cold. Yet even with the extra danger, she didn't want to leave Belfast. For the past two years, she'd spent her time in the woods and around small farms. She'd grown tired of stealing eggs from farmers and hunting rabbit and squirrel for dinner.

In Belfast, if you had quick hands and quicker feet, you could steal almost anything; and Alexia had both. If her parents were alive, they wouldn't like the idea of her stealing. But they were not. Besides, she never stole from someone younger than her.

As she squatted on the peaked roof of a bakery, Alexia inhaled the aroma of fresh bread. She'd been eyeing a particularly large loaf that had disappeared into a wood oven. In a few minutes the baker would pull it out and set it up high to cool. If Alexia were quick about it, the baker would never see her. Yet even if he did, the man was far too large and slow to follow her across the rooftops of Belfast.

“I've been watching you.”

Alexia started, and almost lost her balance. She turned to see a boy who looked to be two or three years younger, rocking on his heels in the crook of the roof. He had a cheeky grin.

“What do you want?” Alexia growled. She hated being sneaked up on.

“I want to be friends,” he said. “I think you need a friend—and I know we do.”

Alexia glanced around to see if anyone else was with the boy. “What do you mean
we
?”

“There are a few of us who've decided to stick together,” the boy said. “You know, kids like me and you who don't have parents.”

“You don't know anything about me!” Alexia said. “I don't need friends!”

“Everyone needs someone,” the boy said. “Please, just come and meet the others. I know you'll like us!” He stood and stepped forward, offering a hand. “My name is Josiah, and I want to be your friend.”

Alexia shifted warily.
What does he really want? He's probably trying to steal my sling.

“My name is Blade,” Alexia said, “and you had better get away from me. I told you, I don't need friends. Besides, you're just a stupid kid. I wouldn't want to be your friend anyway.” Alexia hadn't used her real name since her parents died. She'd chosen Blade because it sounded impressive and dangerous.

A pained look crossed Josiah's face as he backed away. “I just thought maybe …”

Without another word, Alexia leaped past him and sprinted up the roof. She kept running until she was sure Josiah could not possibly have followed.

She was still furious hours later.
How dare he talk about my parents!
I should have punched him in the face.
She was perched on the roof of Fibber McGees, a pub that was impressively tall. This was one of her favorite places in all of Belfast. It gave her a good view of the market. Alexia was searching for the best place to steal her dinner when she heard the voice.

“Oi, what's this?” Just below, an older boy with fiery red hair stepped from the shadows. He wasn't talking to Alexia but to someone she couldn't see. “It's a little rat! 'Ello, little rat. What are you doing in my territory, then?”

Josiah stepped from the shadows of a nearby building.
What's he doing here?
Alexia thought crossly.

“I didn't know this was your territory,” Josiah said. “Honest to goodness, Petrus, I had no idea!”

So that's Petrus!
Alexia had heard about the boy. Everyone said he was cruel and beat up anyone who got in his way. He was the leader of a gang of kids a few years older than Alexia; they were called the Gang of Terror. They were responsible for much of the thievery and pickpocketing in Belfast.

Alexia had heard the Gang of Terror worked for a man who was utterly ruthless. No one knew who he was or what he looked like, but his name was Lord Korah, and the stories she'd heard had given her nightmares.

Besides Josiah and the farmer who tried to kidnap her, Alexia hadn't talked to anyone since her arrival in Belfast. This was normal; she'd barely talked to anyone since her parents died. But Alexia knew how to eavesdrop better than anyone in the city. She would hang unseen from the eaves of the corners of the buildings and hear all sorts of things.

She watched as four more boys appeared from the shadows, sneaking up behind Josiah. As Josiah took a fearful step back, for just a moment he glanced up at Alexia.

He knows I'm here!
Alexia was shocked.
He was following me again!
Although she was furious, a part of her was impressed.
The boy has gumption
, she thought. In truth, she didn't know what “gumption” meant, but she'd heard it used before and liked the sound of it.

One of the boys grabbed Josiah from behind and held him tight. “What should we do with the little rat?” Petrus began to laugh. “There are far too many rats in this city nowadays. Maybe we should make an example of this one. If we hurt him, real bad like, maybe it will teach the other rats to stay out of my territory.”

“Please don't hurt me,” Josiah pleaded. “I didn't know this was your territory!”

“You didn't know?” Petrus extended his arms wide. “All of Belfast is mine.”

Alexia decided it was past time she left. What was it to her if the stupid boy was about to get a beating? She didn't care. As she walked up the peak of the roof, she heard the sound of Petrus's fist thud into Josiah's stomach.

The other boys began to laugh as Josiah cried out.

Alexia took another step.

Smack!
The sound came again as Josiah whimpered. “Please, Petrus. Don't hit me again. I promise I …” Alexia turned around and saw Petrus's fist go back again. This time he was going to hit Josiah in the face.

Thwang!
The stone crashed into his fist and he shrieked.

Alexia had no doubt she'd broken more than one bone in the bully's hand. “Let him go!” She stood with one foot on the gutter and the other on the shingles. “Let him go or the next one lands between your eyes!”

When Petrus turned his attention on Alexia, her breath caught. The look in his eyes was murder. And at that moment, the gutter gave way.

Thud!
Alexia landed flat on her back at Petrus's feet.

Present day

Alexia stood with her back flat against the wall.
The Gang of Terror!
There were seven in all, but Petrus was the worst by far. And he hated Alexia.

What are they doing here?
She'd never thought to see them again, but finding them here was crazy.

Petrus closed the door and turned to the others. “Stand up, you louts. We were told to guard the door, not take a nap.”

“Shove off!” another boy said. “We've been waiting in this stupid cave all day, and it could be hours yet before they come, if they ever do.” The boy had auburn hair and an oafish look. Alexia thought his name was Devin.

Devin closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, ignoring the dangerous look in Petrus's eyes. Petrus stepped close and kicked him hard in the ribs. “I told you to get up!” Devin shrieked and scrambled away. “Lord Korah commanded us to stand ready. If you feel like this command is too much for you, I would be happy to let him know.”

“All right, all right.” Devin raised his hands uneasily. “No need for that. I was only joking!”

Terror formed in the pit of Alexia's stomach as she made her way past the Gang of Terror.
Lord Korah is here!
The thought made her want to scream. Tears formed in her eyes, and as she passed farther out of earshot, she began to run. She needed to catch the men who had taken Wild. If she didn't rescue him before he was taken to Korah, Alexia had no doubt she would never see him again.

 

Chapter 7

ONE MOUSE AND ONE HUNDRED MONSTER CATS

 

King Edward and Jack stood at the entrance of a secret passageway at the back of the war chamber. “Few know of these passages,” the king said. “They run through the entire palace and were built as an escape route for the royal family. We will use them to take you to the World Portal.” Without another word, the king grabbed a lantern from the wall and walked in.

“Your Majesty, how did you know I was going to the World Portal?” Jack asked as they walked through the cramped passageway.

“I have been working with Andreal and Miel,” the king said. “But if we are under attack, someone must have betrayed us. As far as I know, only myself, Andreal, and Miel knew the plan to sneak you to the portal.” The king shook his head sadly. “If I had to guess, I would say it was Andreal. I have never fully trusted that giant, yet Elion assured me he was true. And who am I to argue with a Sephari?” The ceiling was so low that the king had to hunch as he walked.

“What do you mean—sneak us in?” Jack asked. “You are the king. Couldn't you have just invited us?”

“I could have,” King Edward agreed, “but then the world would have known exactly where you were and how you were leaving. We wanted it to be kept secret, though I suppose our planning was for nothing if Andreal was working against us all along.”

Jack and the king had arrived at a dead end. The king reached up and pushed on a stone above his head. As the stone disappeared, the wall slid aside to reveal a thin metal slide that dropped into darkness. “This has always been my favorite part!” The king chuckled as he sat down and shoved off.

Jack quickly sat and pushed off behind him. The ride was spectacular! The slide twisted and turned, then dropped suddenly only to twist again. By the time he reached the bottom, he was grinning from ear to ear.

The king was already standing, and when Jack arrived, his smile quickly faded. The muted sounds of battle could be heard on the other side of the thick walls.

“If the fighting has come this far into the palace, we haven't much time,” the king said. “And I am afraid I cannot take you any farther, my dear boy.” He knelt and lifted a small steel grate from the floor.

“You will need to go the rest of the way on your own. We are only one level above the chamber that holds the World Portal. You will crawl past two metal grates, and when you reach the third, you will be directly above the portal. From there all you need do is remove the grate and drop to the chamber below. The Author willing, Mrs. Dumphry and the others will be waiting!”

“You can't come with me?” Jack pleaded.

“It has been many years since I could fit through a tunnel this small.” The king chuckled. “No, I'm afraid I cannot go any farther. But I will join the battle elsewhere and try to buy you and your friends as much time as I can.”

An explosion sounded from the other side of the wall. A few small stones fell and dust streamed down. “We haven't much time,” the king said. “And though I am enjoying our conversation immensely, I am afraid you must go now.”

Jack lowered himself into the tunnel. It was so small he would have to wriggle through on his belly. He met the king's eyes one last time. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“No, my dear boy, it is I who must thank you. The Awakened stand with you, Jack Staples. And though you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, we will carry you on ours! Now,” he said in a commanding voice, “it is time for you to go. Good-bye, young man. If the Author wills it, we will meet again.”

Jack took the king's hand and shook it firmly, then dropped to his belly and began shimmying through the tunnel. “Remember,” the king called from behind him, “you must pass the first two metal grates, and when you come to the third, you'll have arrived at the World Portal.”

Jack's mind turned somersaults as he squirmed through the tunnel. He'd just met the king of England! As he arrived at the first grate, he heard voices in the cavern below. When he peered through, he saw a young man with red hair sitting on the ground, leaning heavily against the wall.

“I told you to get up!” A black-haired youth appeared, kicking the red-haired boy in the ribs. “Lord Korah commanded us to stand ready. If you feel like this command is too much for you, I would be happy to let him know!”

The first boy leaped out of Jack's view. “All right, all right,” he said. “No need for that. I was only joking!” Jack didn't wait to see more. Whoever these boys were, he had no desire to meet them.

A minute later Jack came to the second grate and his breath caught. At least one hundred Oriax were packed into the small room. The beasts were eerily silent, standing perfectly still; every Oriax had its eyes trained on a brick wall.

Whatever was happening, Jack wanted to be as far away from this chamber as possible. He hadn't wanted to think about what would happen if he arrived at the third chamber and none of his friends were there. Would he leave without them? Would he even know how?

 

Arthur Greaves was scared witless. He stood in a small chamber surrounded by thirty-five Oriax. He was trapped as sure as a fly in honey. Without Jack's Atherial Cloak, he'd have become Oriax food long ago.

When Jack fled the courtyard an hour earlier, Arthur had tried to follow. His best friend had disappeared through a ruined door in the side of the palace, but Arthur needed to sneak around a number of Oriax first. By the time he entered the palace, Jack was gone, though Arthur had found his leather satchel lying among the rubble. He'd been astounded to find the Atherial Cloak inside. Arthur decided to wear the cloak until he could return it, but he hadn't been able to find Jack. Instead, he'd managed to find a large number of Oriax.

Skulking through the endless corridors, Arthur had quickly become lost. When he happened upon a large stairwell, he remembered Mrs. Dumphry saying something about the World Portal being below the dungeons.
If I keep going down
, he thought,
I'll have to find them eventually.

After descending thirty-five flights of stairs, Arthur was regretting his decision very much. At the bottom, he'd been shocked to find ten Oriax sitting quietly in a small chamber, staring at a brick wall. He quickly began the endless climb back to the top. But before he'd gone five steps, eighteen more Oriax appeared on the stairs above. They walked, slithered, hopped, and crawled in absolute silence and entered the small chamber to sit beside the others and stare at the brick wall.

It was an eerie situation, and Arthur could see no chance of escape. He stood with his back flat against the wall and tried not to breathe. He knew the cloak didn't render him totally invisible and was afraid to move a muscle. If the Oriax hadn't been staring so intently at the wall, he was sure at least one of the beasts would have seen him by now.

No!
His heart sank yet again. Another thirty Oriax descended the stairs, pushing their way into the chamber. Arthur quickly realized there wasn't enough space for all of the beasts. When even more Oriax appeared in the stairwell, he dropped to his belly and rolled beneath the haunches of one of the beasts just before it bumped into him.

Back in Ballylesson, Arthur had once seen two cats playing with a mouse. The cats had faced each other and let the mouse run back and forth between them. Each time the poor rodent tried to escape, one of the cats would swat it toward the other, which would chomp down on the mouse's tail and toss it high into the air. The poor mouse would land, then frantically try to scurry away, but the other cat would swat it aside once again. The poor thing never had a chance.

Arthur lay flat on his back, staring up at an Oriax with the body of a bear and the head and shoulders of a horse. He couldn't get the image of the mouse out of his mind. The horrid cats had tossed the poor thing between them for twenty minutes before growing tired of the game. And then, seeming almost bored, one cat had snapped the head off the mouse and left the rest to the second cat.

Arthur wanted to scream as even more Oriax entered the chamber.
What are they doing here?
And that's when he heard it. Something else was descending the stairs. A low scraping echoed from the stairwell, and as the noise grew, every Oriax turned its head in anticipation. The beasts began shoving against one another to clear a path to the back of the chamber as Arthur shimmied beneath them.

All Arthur could see were two silvery, clawed feet that looked to be a mixture of human and animal. The creature stepped into the chamber and inhaled deeply, then began walking toward the back wall. Just as it was about to pass Arthur, it stopped and inhaled again.

“There is something … wrong here,” it purred. “A Light Eyes is here; I can smell it.”

Every Oriax began to snarl in agitation.

“Show yourself, Light Eyes,” the creature hissed.

Arthur froze.
No!
He hadn't thought it possible to be any more afraid, but he'd been wrong.
It can smell me!
The thought paralyzed him.

“Rise. Rise and face me.” The Oriax snarls grew louder.

Arthur didn't move. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried desperately to summon lightning, but nothing happened.

“RISE!” The creature raged and the torches dimmed slightly.

And Arthur stood. There was nothing else he could think to do. He shoved his way between two Oriax and stood shoulder to shoulder with the beasts. Ever so slowly, he opened the Atherial Cloak and pulled back the hood. The Oriax went crazy, snapping jaws, growling, howling, and hissing. But they did not attack.

The creature seemed curious as it looked at Arthur. “I have heard of you, Lightning Dancer.” It purred as it made a half bow and gave a flourish of its silvery cloak. “I am pleased to meet you. You are a friend to the Children of Prophecy, are you not?”

Lightning Dancer? It knows me!
Arthur hadn't thought the dark servants knew anything about him, but this creature knew something Arthur had only just learned.

Where there should have been eyes, the creature had large, oval mirrors, and its ears were pointed at the bottom. Its skin was pure silver, and its face had a feline quality.

“What …” Arthur gulped. “What are you going to do to me?”

The creature smiled as it began to contort, folding inward. “First,” it said, “I will become you.”

Arthur gasped. He was now standing before the mirror image of himself! The creature that looked like Arthur smiled and spoke in Arthur's own voice. “I am a Grendall, of course. And I will do what I do best. I will draw close to your friends, and I will kill them one by one.” The Grendall licked its lips.

Arthur tried to step back, but an Oriax with the head of a hyena and the body of a walrus snapped at him.

“As for what we will do with you,” the Grendall said, “that is not my decision. I must consult the master.”

Arthur shuddered. The creature still looked like him, except that its eyes had once again become large mirrors. They didn't reflect the chamber, but showed another place. After a moment, a man with jet-black hair and wearing a black-and-silver cloak appeared in the creature's mirrored eyes. Although Arthur didn't understand it, he guessed the eyes acted as some sort of two-way mirror.

“Are you in place?”

“Yes, Master Korah.” The Grendall spoke in its purring voice. “We await your signal.”

“We leave now. Kill anyone who tries to enter the chamber.”

“Yes, master,” the Grendall hissed. “As you can see, I have captured the Lightning Dancer. What would you have me do with him?”

“We have no use for the fat one.” Korah sounded bored. “You can kill him now.”

“It will be as you command.” The mirrors in the other Arthur's eyes faded.

“It has been far too long since I have consumed a Light Eyes.” The Grendall smacked its lips in anticipation. “And I am hungry.”