Quest for the Secret Keeper (31 page)

“I’m leaving,” Wolfie said, turning back to his sack. “Don’t try and stop me!”

Carl pushed his way into the room. “We wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “I saw what your father did to you, and I wouldn’t wait around for another beating like that either.”

The young lad paused his packing. “I didn’t do it,” he whispered, and Ian heard him sniffle.

“Do what?” Ian asked.

Wolfie looked up, his eyes almost pleading with Ian to believe him. “My papa accused me of taking something from our house, and I didn’t do it.”

Ian knew for certain then what the poor boy had been accused of. “I believe you,” he said.

Again Wolfie rubbed his temples and looked away. “I have a terrible headache,” he whispered.

“We can help, you know,” Carl said.

“Help what?” asked Wolfie.

Carl pointed to the linen sack. “You to run away. We know a place where you can go. Somewhere out of this rain where no one will find you.”

Wolfie eyed Carl, as if wondering if this was some sort
of a trick. Ian hoped that the boy wouldn’t pry too far into Carl’s thoughts and discover the truth.

“Would you like a roll?” Carl asked suddenly, offering one of the several buns he’d pinched from the dining hall.

Wolfie’s face softened. “Thank you,” he said, taking it from Carl.

Ian smiled. Good old Carl. “Come on,” he said, reaching for the sack Wolfie had packed. “Let’s be off before the other boys are through with dinner.”

With no small amount of satisfaction, Ian was relieved when he saw Wolfie get up and follow them out of the room. Now, if only their luck would hold until they reached the portal, all would go as planned.

D
ieter Van Schuft returned to his home shaken and sickened by the brutal beating he’d given his son. With trembling fingers he pulled the small pawn out of his pocket and set it on the top of his bureau.

He had never struck Wolfie with such unrestrained violence before, and Dieter cringed away from the chess piece on his bureau as if it were a deadly serpent. He remembered the rush of pleasure that had come from smacking his own son, and now that he was away from the influence of the Gorgonite, he found that memory disgusting.

Dieter closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. He’d knocked the boy senseless—of that he was certain. And for what?
What?

Magus the Black was likely never coming back to claim his precious chess set. His master had intended it for the Führer, and Dieter likely would have offered it to him as a present if it could have curried him favor. But even Dieter knew that Adolf Hitler had the seeds of madness within
him, and he’d hidden the chess set for over a year without giving it to the Führer because he knew it could prove far more lethal than he’d intended.

So he’d debated what to do with it, never really deciding. And now his son had made the decision for him. He’d effectively dismantled the set and rendered it unusable.

After carrying the pawn in his pocket for a day and a half while he’d dealt with his superior, he had become more and more angry at his son. It had taken all his willpower, in fact, not to shout obscenities at the visiting Oberführer, which would have won him a court-martial. And the moment the Oberführer had allowed him to leave, Dieter had driven straight to the school, intent on having Wolfie give him back the precious metal and jewels.

But the moment he’d seen his son, Dieter had lost all control. And all over a chess set that no one but he and his former master knew of. When he thought of the dismantled pieces, Dieter had to admit that he was actually grateful to his son for doing exactly that. The chess set was far too dangerous an object.

Dieter moved unsteadily into the living room, where he rooted around in the side bar for his decanter of scotch. After pouring himself a stiff drink, he swallowed it in one gulp.

He felt no better.

He began pouring his second drink when the large oak tree outside his window rustled and groaned from a strong wind bending the branches. Dieter paused with the glass partway to his mouth as he looked outside and saw a most unusual sight. The rain had turned to snow.

Setting the glass down, Dieter moved to the kitchen door and stared out into the snowy yard. He saw two figures approaching the house, both of them tall and imposing.

He squinted through the pane and realized suddenly that he recognized one of them, and the breath caught in his throat. “Caphiera!”

Peering harder, he was certain that the second figure was none other than her frightful sister Atroposa.
Oh, no!
Dieter thought.

If they were here, was his master, Magus the Black, far behind? Dieter considered with a pounding heart what it would mean if Magus had indeed survived his encounter with his other sister, Lachestia. Dieter thought it unlikely he would live long enough to beg for his life if Magus had been rescued by these two and come in search of his loyal servant. Especially after Magus discovered what had become of his chess set.

And what would that mean for Wolfie? The boy would be hunted down like a dog and killed if Magus suspected that Wolfie was responsible for taking the metal off the chess pieces.

Still, Dieter didn’t see his master. Only the two sisters, who had now stepped into his yard. He noticed that Caphiera wore some sort of patch over one eye, and Dieter made sure not to look directly into the other.

“Van Schuft!” Caphiera called.

At first, Dieter didn’t move. He didn’t know why the sisters had come to his home, and he wasn’t at all certain that he wanted to know.

“Come out!” Atroposa ordered, her voice mournful and horrible.

Dieter gathered his courage and stepped out the door. Bowing low, he said, “Mistress Atroposa. Mistress Caphiera. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“We are in search of Magus the Black,” said Caphiera.

Dieter stood up and was careful to avoid looking at her face. Instead, he focused his gaze on her long white coat, which was unusually unkempt and even torn in places. “He’s not here, my mistress.”

“Of course he’s not here, you idiot!” Caphiera snapped.

“Forgive me,” said Dieter, bowing low again. From experience he knew it was best to appear contrite when dealing with one of Demogorgon’s brood. “I know only that my master has gone in search of his sister, the sorceress of earth. I have not heard what has become of him.”

“He’s been taken prisoner by Lachestia,” Atroposa told him. “We’re here to have you retrieve his mutts to help us track his location. We understand you know how to summon and command them?”

Dieter stiffened. He did indeed know how to call and control the hellhounds. In fact, he had a golden whistle hidden in the back of his wardrobe that allowed him to do just that. “I do,” he said to them, thinking quickly. If he used the whistle and called the hellhounds, he would have complete control over them. Whoever blew the whistle controlled the beasts for at least a short time, so if he asked them to track their master, they would most certainly obey; however, the beasts were also the mortal enemies of
Caphiera, who had often tried to kill them. The hellhounds were as ferocious as lions, and like a lion needed the constant crack of a whip to remind it who was in control, so would the beasts need to hear the constant sound of the whistle to remain under Dieter’s command.

The beasts would obey Dieter if he consistently used the whistle, but their instincts would be to attack or run away from Caphiera if Dieter did not assist.

That meant he would be required to go along with the sorceresses while the beasts hunted for their master, and with the beasts leading the way, the evil sisters would eventually discover their brother and liberate him. Dieter had little doubt about that. Once Magus was freed and discovered the condition of his chess set, Dieter’s life would most certainly come to an abrupt end.

But, Dieter wondered, what if he used the whistle to his advantage? Perhaps there would be a moment when the sisters weren’t looking that he could turn the beasts on them and escape with his life? Certainly the sorceresses would hunt for him, but he and Wolfie could go into hiding. Only his master knew how to track Dieter to the ends of the earth, a thought that made him shudder.

Dieter gulped while his thoughts whirred. “I have my master’s whistle,” he said finally. “But the beasts have been ordered to stay in the mountains, and if I call them, it will take at least a day if not longer for them to arrive.”

“Get it,” said Caphiera, her tone as cold as her heart. “And bring it here to summon them.”

Dieter offered no further argument. He bowed out of
the yard and went back into the house, his fingers trembling along the wall as he walked to his bedroom and over to the wardrobe. He opened the door, reaching for one of his old uniforms at the very back—Dieter never threw anything out. After his master had set off to find the sorceress Lachestia, he had given Dieter the whistle and ordered him to keep it in a safe place. As Dieter had been promoted to the rank of storm command leader, he’d kept the whistle around the hanger of one of the uniforms of his previous rank, making sure it was well hidden at the back of his wardrobe next to a cluster of unused hangers, where no one was likely to find the whistle. Pulling out the last uniform on the rack, he was shocked to find the whistle missing.

“What is this?” he gasped, tearing the old uniform from the hanger and letting it drop carelessly to the floor. He then threw the hanger over his shoulder and poked his way into the back of the wardrobe, searching all the remaining hangers, tearing off each coat and casting it away as he searched desperately for the whistle. He then got down on hands and knees and searched the floor, but it wasn’t there. No, the whistle was gone!

“Wolfie!”
he growled, thinking it had to be his son, searching the house for items to steal along with the silver. And of course the whistle would appeal to him; it was made of gold, and what boy could resist a golden whistle? “Oh, my son, what
have
you done?”

Outside, another gust of wind rustled the trees and he knew the sorceresses were growing impatient. It was then that he had an idea. He hurried back through the house to
the yard. “Mistresses,” he said, bowing low again. “I had forgotten that I had hidden the whistle in my desk at work. If you will allow me to retrieve it, I promise that I shall not be long.”

He could feel the impatience of the evil sisters wafting off them both. “Fine,” said Atroposa after a lengthy pause. “But be quick about it. We shall wait for you here.”

Dieter bowed again and backed out of the yard. A few moments later he was in his car, once more speeding toward the school.

I
an, Carl, and Wolfie got outside only to realize that it was still pouring down rain. “Did you manage to pack an umbrella in there?” Carl asked, hunching low into his coat and pointing to the satchel Ian carried for Wolfie.

“I forgot it,” the young boy said, his face sad and swollen.

“Well, come along,” said Ian. “We know the perfect hiding place not far from here.”

To avoid being spotted by the boys returning from the dining hall, Ian had led them out the back entrance, which meant they had to circle around the abbey to reach the woods on the far side.

With Ian in the lead, they edged carefully along the building, ducking low under the windows so that no one would see them sneaking about in the rain with a sack full of clothing between them.

“Where is this place you know of?” Wolfie asked as the woods came into view.

Ian was caught slightly off guard. He knew that Wolfie
might have resisted overusing his abilities upstairs due to his headache, but here he might force himself inside Ian’s head if he became suspicious.

Keeping his thoughts as neutral as possible, Ian replied, “It’s a cave, Wolfie. A place in the hills where no one will think to look for you, and inside it you’ll be safe enough.”

Ian then focused his thoughts on the view he’d first had of the valley below the portal gate and how beautiful it had been.

He couldn’t be certain, but he had an odd little tickling sensation at the back of his thoughts, which suggested that Wolfie was rooting about for information. “Where will you go?” he asked the boy to distract him.

“My mother had a sister in Vienna,” Wolfie said. “I met her once when I was little. She was nice to me.”

“I’m sorry your father beat you,” Ian said, and he honestly meant it.

Behind him Wolfie was silent a moment before he said, “Papa hasn’t been the same since my mother died.”

Ian looked behind him, Carl was frowning and Ian could read the complex mix of emotions there too. Frau Van Schuft had been an evil woman, but Wolfie probably didn’t know that.

“There,” said Ian, pointing to the tree he remembered hiding behind when he’d first seen the abbey up close. “That’s where we’ll need to go.” He was about to dart across the short stretch of grass when he heard a rumbling sound from the drive. A motorcar was just pulling up to the abbey, and Ian recognized it and the driver immediately.

He heard Wolfie gasp in fear. “Back around the building!” Ian said, turning and waving Wolfie and Carl away.

“Why’s he come back?” Carl said when they’d scuttled round the corner and peered back at the motorcar.

Dieter got out and slammed the door, eyeing the dormitory with malice.

“Don’t let him find me!” Wolfie begged them, shivering pathetically beside Ian.

“Shhh!” Ian warned. “Wolfie, be quiet and wait until your father goes inside the building.”

Dieter began to do just that when a priest stepped out of the abbey and right up to the elder man. “Herr Van Schuft,” the priest said. Ian realized it was the headmaster himself.

“I must see my son,” Dieter said curtly. “Immediately!”

The priest put up his arms as if to block him. “Your son has received quite enough of your attention for one evening,” the priest said reasonably. “Now why don’t you go home, Herr Van Schuft, and come back tomorrow for a visit?”

Other priests emerged from the abbey and gathered in the rain around the headmaster. Dieter looked at them as if he were a cornered rat. “You don’t understand!” he said to them. “My son has stolen something from me, and I must retrieve it.”