Part 34 (1/2)
Max gave a shrill cry of pain as the blade sliced across his palm.
Drops of his blood pattered softly onto the cloth, which began to glow with a dull green light as it absorbed them. She tossed his hand back at him with disdain. The knife disappeared into her robes, and the green glow faded from the shroud.
”Peg asks the questions,” she spat, ”not bad little boys who make her go a-chasing for many months and many miles.”
With a sudden lurch, her face hovered inches from his. Flecks of spittle sprayed from her mouth, and long fangs extended from her lower jaw as her anger quickened. Max almost toppled backward off the crate.
”If I had my way, you'd be in my meat locker, you little maggot!” Peg spat. ”You're lucky that you're worth something and Peg's got her orders.” The vye panted for several moments, examining every detail of Max's terrified face as her anger receded into smug composure. Millimeter by millimeter, the teeth slid back into her gums and her mouth sank again into a soft ma.s.s. Peg spat. ”You're lucky that you're worth something and Peg's got her orders.” The vye panted for several moments, examining every detail of Max's terrified face as her anger receded into smug composure. Millimeter by millimeter, the teeth slid back into her gums and her mouth sank again into a soft ma.s.s.
”Yes, yes, big plans for this one,” she muttered, taking up her needles once more. ”Marley and the Traitor say so.... As long as he's the one we want. If not-hoo-hoo-hoo! He belongs to Peg!” He belongs to Peg!”
Max was taken back down to the rank cabin, where Cyrus dressed the fresh wound.
”You mustn't upset Peg,” the old man cautioned, tightening the labyrinth of ropes and knots around Max, whose eyelids fluttered with pain and exhaustion. ”You mustn't do that. There'd be nothing I could do to help you.”
Cyrus forced another biscuit and some water into Max's mouth before taking the lantern and disappearing upstairs. The cabin went black. Max heard Alex breathing. He knew that soon his father would be waking up and helping Mum and Bob prepare breakfast in the kitchens. Charges would be fast asleep in the Warming Lodge. David would have their observatory all to himself. Max did not think David would like that and hoped that Connor would move in.
The s.h.i.+p shuddered as it pressed through heavier seas.
What would Ms. Richter tell his father?
How had the vyes gotten onto Rowan's campus?
Was Cooper looking for them?
Would YaYa look after Nick? Or would it be Nolan?
The thoughts pa.s.sed like street signs-some profound, some vain and silly-as Max tried to contemplate a world without him. With a sigh, he wished that Nick and the goslings could be there with him, and then fell into a dreamless sleep.
19.
THE CRYPT OF MARLEY AUGUR.
When Max opened his eyes, all he saw was darkness. He shut them again and tried to conserve his energy. He was being carried; something had been placed over his head.
It was impossible to piece together the rest of his voyage; he was not sure if he had sailed for days or weeks. There were fleeting glimpses of daylight and the soft patter of rain. Periodically they were permitted to relieve themselves in a bucket. The last Max could remember, he had awoken to see Peg hovering over him with a black shroud, muttering in a low, strange language.
And now he was bounced along, slung over the vye's shoulder as he was carried down many stairs. Each step jolted his body. A door opened and Max felt cool, musty air filter through the wrapping around his head.
”You are late, Peg,” said a voice from his right. It was deep and authoritative.
”Couldn't be helped,” mumbled Peg, her mouth frighteningly close to Max's ear.
Max was dumped into a chair, and the cover was removed from his head. Pretending to be unconscious, he let his head fall to the side. Then, like a stain spreading throughout the room, a presence presence approached. It was very cold. The air seemed to vibrate and tingle. approached. It was very cold. The air seemed to vibrate and tingle.
”Which is the one the Traitor spoke of?”
”This one,” said Peg. She tapped the top of his head with a hard-nailed finger. ”He's pretending to be asleep.”
Max ignored her. He kept his eyes shut tightly and focused through his fever. An acrid vapor burned his nostrils despite the heavy, wet air. Water dripped from somewhere; the s.p.a.ce sounded very large. Max heard something moving somewhere off to his left.
”It is all right, boy,” said the voice, hollow but not unkind. ”Open your eyes.”
Max lifted his head as his eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom. He looked first for the source of the unfamiliar voice but could see only two small lights in the darkness. Alex saw them, too; he sat in a nearby chair, gripping it in terror and staring silently ahead.
They were in a cavernous room of cold stone; the high walls and pillars were wet with moss and s.h.a.ggy growths. The only light came from oil lamps and a small fire to Max's left. Suspended over the fire was a small cauldron that released foul-smelling fumes in sputtering fits. Beyond the cauldron were long wooden tables covered with beakers and flasks encrusted with black residue. Many books, ancient and tattered like David's grimoires, lay scattered upon the tables. What really caught Max's attention, however, were the paintings. Behind the tables, dozens of paintings were hung on the dark, wet walls like some ghastly mockery of a museum gallery.
Max looked for the way out but saw Cyrus, in wolf form, sitting at the base of stone steps that climbed up into inky blackness.
A voice in Max's ear made him jump.
”Have a nice trip, dear?”
Peg's face grinned at him in the dim light. Her hair was wild, and her cheeks had sunken to cavernous hollows.
”Peg, leave him be.” The voice spoke in calm, commanding tones. ”This is a great day for our guest; do not spoil it needlessly.”
Peg scowled and retreated to a high-backed rocking chair near the cauldron. She retrieved two needles and continued work on another shroud.
”Where are we?” said Max, his voice sounding small and young in the cavernous chamber.
”You are in eire, my son. Ireland. You are among friends in a land of poets and kings.”
”Is that you over there?” Max whispered, staring at the small bright eyes in the dark.
The icy points of light bobbed against the darkness as something came closer. A startling figure loomed into view.
He was almost seven feet tall, Max thought, and his bones creaked as he stood to full height. Steel-gray hair was wound into braids near his temples. A tarnished circlet crowned his head; an open band of thick silver encircled his neck. Frayed linen robes hemmed with intertwining designs in fading green hung loose about a great, gaunt frame. What flesh remained was drawn and decaying. His features tightened into a small smile while two pinpoints of pale green light flickered from within deep eye sockets.
Max writhed and looked away as the figure stood over him.
”I know I am not fair to look upon,” said the creature sadly. ”That is to change.”
The creature patted Max's arm and Max almost fainted; the touch was ice and the flesh felt as damp and moist as the surrounding earth.
”That one is strong,” hissed Peg from the corner. ”We should bind him.”
”He is a beardless boy.” The creature chuckled softly. ”He is our guest, not our prisoner. He will see the wisdom of our words.”
The creature turned to Alex. ”And what is your name, my son?”
Alex squirmed under the attention of the creature.
”Alex Munoz.”
”You are most welcome here, Alex,” the creature said. ”I sent Peg for that that one. How did we have the good fortune to acquire your company, too?” one. How did we have the good fortune to acquire your company, too?”
”They were both on the dock,” Peg giggled. ”They were fighting. We saved this one from becoming a murderer. murderer. Isn't that right?” Isn't that right?”