“Maybe we should stuff him into Lucky’s pack,” Melvin had suggested, but when Norman wouldn’t fit, even when he sucked in his gut, Marvin had a better solution.
“I’ll just carry him till I get tired.”
Now, with noon come and gone, the powerful dragonslayer was finally setting his father down, although probably only because here they were, at the end of their journey.
“Let’s see if Nathan came back,” Greg suggested.
Mordred strode deliberately for the castle. “He didn’t.” The others ran after him.
“How do you know?” Priscilla asked.
“I would feel him if he did.”
“Why, where’s Nathan?” Marvin wanted to know.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Greg asked. He realized after three hours on the trail he’d never once mentioned anything about the prophecy or Nathan being missing.
Not that it was his fault. The beginning of the trip no one could get a word in past Marvin’s boasting. Even Kristin lost interest in the dragonslayer after a time, which inspired Melvin to hop along after her, asking question after question, while she tried hard to ignore him.
Then, once Melvin grew hoarse, the conversation was completely consumed by foolish chatter between the two girls over clothes and hairstyles and the ten cutest boys at school, which probably would have worked out better if they went to the same school, or at least schools on the same world. Now that they’d arrived, Greg ignored the fact Kristin hadn’t included him on her top-ten list and filled Marvin in on Brandon’s note about Nathan going off to see Dolzowt Deth.
All color drained from Marvin’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Greg asked.
“He went to see Dolzowt?”
“Who’s Dolzowt?” asked Melvin.
“Dolzowt Deth is a legendary sorcerer who lives deep within the Netherworld,” Mordred answered. “He’s a master of the Dark Arts, and if Nathan has gone to him and not returned, I cannot say I’m surprised, or that he did not deserve his fate.”
“Nathan doesn’t deserve anything,” argued Priscilla.
Mordred nodded.
“I mean, he doesn’t deserve to have anything bad happen to him.”
“He went to discover secrets about the Dark Arts,” said Mordred.
“He deserves whatever he gets.”
Everyone started arguing then, including Kristin, who didn’t even know Nathan but must have felt obligated to defend him since her BFF Priscilla seemed so adamant about it.
“We shouldn’t be standing around arguing like this,” Greg finally said. “We need to go find this Dolzowt person and get Nathan back.”
Mordred cackled. “And just how do you expect to get to the Netherworld?”
“I don’t know,” said Greg. “Can’t you send me?”
“Sorry. Your friend Nathan said I’m not supposed to use my magic, remember?”
“He’s your friend too,” Lucky reminded him. “And how else can we get there?”
“
We
?” said Mordred. “I don’t remember the prophecy saying anything about
you
going to the Netherworld.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t say anything about Greg going, either.”
“Which is precisely why neither of you should go.”
“But we must,” Kristin said. “We owe it to Nathan.”
Greg gazed at her dumbly, wondering how she could possibly owe anything to a man she’d never met.
“Kristin’s right,” Melvin insisted.
“Leave me alone,” she told him.
“No, she
is
right,” said Greg. He stared defiantly at Mordred. “And even if you care nothing about Nathan, he has the Amulet of Ruuan with him. We don’t stand a chance against Hazel without it. If you won’t send us, then we’ll just have to hike there ourselves.” He looked to Lucky to see if this was even possible, as he had no idea what or where the Netherworld was.
“I’m afraid that would be impossible,” Mordred said, confirming Greg’s suspicions. “You don’t have time. The Netherworld is months away, clear on the other side of the Styx.”
Priscilla frowned. “But we have to go.” Her face brightened. “I know, Greg. You could use your ring to get us to Ruuan’s lair, and then we could walk to that portal Nathan showed us and be in the Styx within a day or so.”
Greg remembered the portal she was talking about. It existed somewhere in the middle of a barren desert, completely undetectable to the human eye. Well, to everyone’s eye except Nathan’s.
“You think you could find that portal Nathan showed us?” Melvin said. “I know I couldn’t.”
“That’s where I come in,” said Lucky. “With my talent, I should be able to lead us out into the Barren Reaches and straight into that portal on my first try.”
“That sounds like a reasonable plan,” said Mordred, his tone assuring just the opposite. “Then you’ll just need to walk for a month or so to the south side of the Styx . . . Oh, but the spirelings were going to be here tonight to help us launch an attack against Hazel. I would think you’d want to be here for that.”
Not really,
Greg thought to himself, but aloud he said, “It doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t get us to Ruuan’s lair. I gave away my ring.”
“You what?” Priscilla said.
“I had to. It was the only way I knew for Nathan to come to this world as a boy.”
“Very resourceful,” said Mordred, and for a change Greg believed the magician actually approved of something he’d done. “This prophecy business is more complex than I ever imagined. I must say, I’m not really sure how best to proceed. I didn’t tell you before, because I didn’t want to worry you, but I have reason to believe it is too late to save your friend Nathan.”
“Stop calling him
our
friend,” Priscilla insisted. “What do you mean, too late?” She gripped Kristin’s hand tightly in her own and didn’t even object when Melvin tried to slip his in too.
“I’ve never been to the Netherworld myself, of course,” Mordred started, “because only the Dark Arts are practiced there . . .”
“Nathan said when you were kids you did all sorts of stuff with the Dark Arts,” Priscilla interrupted.
The look on Mordred’s face suggested Priscilla was lucky to be King Peter’s daughter. “They say,” he continued quite slowly, “time does not pass there.”
“Say what?” asked Lucky.
“Well, that’s not completely accurate. It passes there. It’s just, from our point of view, no time passes here. No matter what sort of delay Nathan experienced inside the Netherworld, he should have been back the moment he left.” He paused to let the others come to their own conclusions about what he’d said. “I can’t say he didn’t deserve his fate, but still I am sorry this has happened.”
“Are you really?” Priscilla asked, a tear in her eye.
“Most certainly. If something has indeed happened to Nathan, then he won’t be here to fulfill his role in the battle.”
Greg frowned at the man’s callousness. “The prophecy says Nathan has a role in the battle?”
“Did I not mention that?” said Mordred. “To be exact, it says both he and you will take to the skies to fight atop the backs of magnificent flying beasts.”
“You mean dragons?” said Melvin. “Nice.”
“But wait, that’s impossible,” said Marvin. “Hazel has control of Ruuan now, and he’s the only dragon left. There might have been a couple dozen around when I was born, but between me and Dad we’ve taken out every last one of them.”
Norman Greatheart coughed suddenly. He avoided the others’ eyes, busily stretching out the fabric of his tights, which, after being carried a thousand miles through the Enchanted Forest, looked to be riding up in an uncomfortable way.
“Did you have something to say, Mr. Greatheart?” Priscilla asked. “Um, maybe not
every
one.”
“How’s that, Dad?” said Marvin.
“Er…it’s possible one or two dragons may have slipped through the cracks.”
“What?”
“Well, one for sure.”
Marvin’s face reddened as he pulled his father off to one side. “What are you talking about, Dad?”
“I should’ve told you sooner, son. That mean-spirited offspring of Tehrer . . . you know the one . . . when I, er, slayed him, he ended up . . . well, less dead than we might have hoped.”
“Are you saying he got away?”
“Not exactly. More like he let me get away. Truth is, he agreed to let me live if I would just go back and tell everybody I’d slayed him. That way folks would quit coming looking for him, and he could finally get some peace.”
“I can’t believe you would trick everybody like that,” Kristin scolded, and now it was Greg who avoided the others’ eyes, as he’d made a similar deal with Ruuan and knew better than anyone how to mislead a kingdom full of people.
Norman fidgeted uncomfortably. “It seemed a pretty good deal at the time, considering it was that or be incinerated. See, Tehrer was actually born in the Netherworld. He lived just a couple hundred miles from the Styx border most his life. Before I met him he’d been harvesting stray cattle for years, scooping up anything foolish enough to step across the border. But—and this seemed a bit odd for a dragon of Tehrer’s disposition—he still respected the monster-free zone that had been agreed upon centuries earlier with the people of the Styx. Least until his one slip up, shortly before I was called upon to help.”
“Tehrer crossed the line?” said Marvin.
“Yep. In more ways than one. One day on a whim he soared into the Styx, scorched a couple of villages, and flew off with a half dozen maidens. Oh, you can imagine the people were furious. All this screamin’ and hollerin’. But do you think one of them would step up to do a thing about it themselves? No. As always, they called upon me to clean up their mess for them.
“But I didn’t mind,” he said, and for a moment Greg thought he sounded a lot like his son Marvin. “No, I did what I always do. I came to their rescue and headed out after that bloody dragon with no thought for my own safety. Only this time was different. I’d never been to the Netherworld before. Lot of strange things down there, by the way. Never been back since. Kinda sorry I went the once.
“Anyway, when I finally tracked Tehrer down and cornered him in his lair, he seemed quite apologetic. Said he’d just been feeling a bit giddy that day and how I could rest assured it would never happen again. I tended to believe him, what with him having me pinned to the floor of his cave under one of his talons, so we quickly scratched out an agreement instead of my entrails, and well, you know the rest.”
“Oh my,” said Priscilla. “We have to get Nathan out of there.”
“I already told you, it’s too late for Nathan,” Mordred said, “and if Tehrer’s still flying about snatching up anything that steps foot into the Styx, I’m certainly not going to let you go wandering about down there foolishly trying to save anyone.”
For a second Greg thought he sensed a note of compassion. Then he realized Mordred was just concerned about the prophecy.
“Wait,” said Kristin, “maybe it’s like when Greg went to that Gyrth place. Maybe the reason Nathan didn’t come back on time is because Greg hasn’t gone to get him.”
“That’s preposterous,” said Mordred. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“No,” Priscilla insisted. “She may be right. Don’t you see? If something did happen to him down there, then your precious prophecy can’t work out. Nathan must still be alive. Now we have to go more than ever.”
“She’s right,” said Greg. “Nathan always knew I’d do whatever it took to make Simon’s prophecies work out. Maybe the only reason he’s not back is because I haven’t put forth my best effort.”
“I agree,” said Kristin.
“That’s because he was agreeing with you,” Mordred noted.
“Me too,” said Lucky. “Agree with both of them, I mean.”
“I agree with Kristin,” Melvin admitted.
Marvin was keeping quiet. Perhaps he was contemplating the matter, but Greg had an idea he was still struggling over the truth about his father never slaying Tehrer.
“Then it’s settled,” said Priscilla. “Mordred, you need to use your magic to send us all to the Netherworld.”
“Nonsense,” said Mordred. “This settles nothing.”
Priscilla crossed her arms over her chest and shot the magician a challenging glare. “Do we really need to go discuss this with Daddy?”
Even after receiving
a direct order from King Peter to send the children wherever Greg wanted to go, Mordred was still reluctant to cooperate. Time was of the essence, yet he insisted on filling the children in on what they could expect to find in the mysterious depths of the Netherworld.
“They like children there,” he told them, which might have eased Greg’s mind if Mordred hadn’t added, “They use them for spare parts.”
Greg gulped. “You’re joking, right?”
“Have you ever known me to flaunt my sense of humor?”
Priscilla squeezed Kristin’s hand. “What do you mean, spare parts?”
“Dark Magic is not for the weak of heart, or stomach,” Mordred told her. “Nearly all spells require ingredients from living things. Even ordinary, everyday magic usually involves some aspect of life: a certain plant, a hair of bat, eye of newt, or some such thing. But for the darker spells . . . well, eye of child might be a better place to start . . . though a worthwhile spell might take a kidney, or a few feet of intestines, or worse.”
Not until Greg bumped into something squishy did he realize he’d been unconsciously backing away. To his surprise he found he’d run into Lucky, who had backed into the same corner, along with Melvin and the two girls.
“Our best bet is to get you some magicians’ robes,” said Mordred. “The more powerful you look, the bigger you will seem. Not that an adult would be safe in the Netherworld either, but parts from an adult are not as valuable as those from a child. I suggest you tighten that hood up around your face, Highness.”
“What about the rest of us?” asked Greg.
“You do what you like. It’s what you seem best at, anyway.”
“Hey, I—”
“Just remember,” said Mordred, taking in all of the children in a single glance, “keep those robes cinched and your hoods snug, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll live to see your next birthday.” He glanced specifically at Greg. “Well, most of you, anyway. Hopefully, they’ll believe you are sorcerers and leave you alone—or at least be more hesitant to attack you.”