The Hero's Tomb (16 page)

Newton leaped from his chair, but was instantly caught and held down by a pair of butchers.

Cyrus went red, then purple. His face distorted horribly, and he let out a strange hissing sound. The ogre squeezed tighter, and tighter, his face expressionless, as though he were doing nothing more remarkable than ringing out a tea towel.

‘Stop!’ roared Newton. ‘What’s wrong with you? Stop, for Thalin’s sake!’

Out of the corner of his eye he saw that the Duke was watching him, ignoring the elf entirely. At last, he clicked his fingers a second time, and the ogre let go and stepped away. Cyrus Derringer slumped in his chair, half-conscious, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

‘Unfortunately,’ said the Duke, ‘I only need you, Captain Newton. You are uniquely suited to my purposes – so you will help me. Unless you want to see this elf die before your very eyes.’

Derringer fell forward, rattling the cutlery as his head hit the tablecloth.

The Duke chuckled. ‘Oh dear. I don’t believe he enjoyed that. Still, he will live. For now.’

He’ll live.
Maybe it wasn’t much of a life, but Newton wasn’t going to have the elf lose it on his account. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘What now?’

The Duke smiled. ‘Such weakness. It is the demon in you, Captain Newton, which stops you from doing what needs to be done.’ He slid the Sword of Corin back into its black sheath. ‘There is just one last matter to attend to before we leave. Morgan?’ He clicked his fingers a third time, and the ogre’s massive fist slammed into Newton’s face, knocking him sideways off his chair.

Newton’s jaw hummed with the shock of it, as the ogre bent down and picked him up again. Agony, pulsing, throbbing. There was blood in his mouth, and he spat it out.

‘I cannot kill you, Captain Newton,’ said the Duke. ‘Not yet. But that is in return for my face.’ He stood. ‘Now, we must make ready for our trip.’

‘What trip?’ said Cyrus Derringer, his voice no more than a croak.

‘Why, our trip down the River Azur,’ said the Duke. ‘To the hero’s tomb.’

Chapter Twenty-seven

The Azurmouth Academy gleamed in the afternoon sunshine, as Joseph and Tabitha crunched across the gravel driveway towards it.

Joseph had never been more exhausted. They’d had to take a long, roundabout route through the city to avoid the main roads, and Tabitha had insisted they stop at the burned-out tavern to pick up Joseph’s cutlass – it had been a gift from Newton, after all. But in the end she’d had to go in on her own while Joseph waited outside.

He didn’t want to see that place, ever again.

Even here at the Academy, he couldn’t make himself relax. The white towers that loomed overhead, the
curving white walls and the great wooden drawbridge over an ornamental moat – they all reminded him of the House of Light.
These magicians are different,
he had to remind himself.
They don’t belong to the League. Hal was one of them, for Thalin’s sake.

The gatekeeper let them pass with no more than a raised eyebrow, and soon Tabitha was leading Joseph around a large neat square of grass in a silent courtyard. A robed figure swished past, throwing them a curious glance. A bespectacled man peered at them through a window, quickly disappearing when Joseph spotted him.

They’ve never seen a mongrel before.

‘Jaster’s staircase,’ muttered Tabitha. ‘Room forty-two.’

She took him up a curving flight of steps and through a small oak door, without knocking. ‘Guess who’s back?’ she was saying, as Joseph followed.

The room was small, and cramped by overflowing shelves and towering heaps of books lying all around. Frank, Paddy and Hal were sitting on chairs around a wooden table, and Joseph felt a rush of relief at seeing them again. Standing by their side was a tall, birdlike man with chaotic white hair and a wispy beard, wearing a black gown and eyeglasses and looking anxious. It had to be Master Gurney.

Last of all Joseph spotted Ty, sitting on the table on top of another little pile of leather-bound books. Newton’s fairy looked dejected, with his head in his hands.

‘Thank Thalin you’re here,’ said Frank.

That was it. No grin, no hug, no bad joke. The troll looked pleased at least, but exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept at all.

‘Sit down,’ said Paddy.

‘Is that all the welcome we get?’ asked Tabitha. ‘I’ll have you know we—’

‘Where’s Newton?’ said Joseph.

Master Gurney pulled out two more chairs for them. ‘I think it’s best you both have a seat.’

They sat, dread building in Joseph’s gut. Tabitha didn’t even breathe a word of complaint. She could sense it too – something was wrong.

‘Like I was saying, he’s been arrested,’ said Ty, when they were settled. ‘Him and Cyrus Derringer. Master Gurney here arranged for them to enter the Contest of Blades, but they never came back. So this morning I flew over to the House of Light, listened in on some gossiping whitecoats. Seems Cyrus beat Lucky Leo, took his sword off him, then the Duke of Garran stepped in and took Newt and the elf prisoner.’

Joseph slumped in his chair. After all they’d been
through, it wasn’t over.
Newton captured. By the Duke of Garran.
It was too horrible to think of. He cast a glance at Tabitha and saw that her lip was trembling. He stopped himself just before reaching out to her.
She wouldn’t like that.

‘What in the name of the Maw was Newt playing at?’ said Frank, rubbing his great green brow. ‘Why did he enter Derringer in the contest in the first place?’

‘That’s what I’ve been—’ started Tabitha. Then she cut herself short, hesitating. ‘I s’pose there must have been a reason,’ she said at last. ‘He must have known what he was doing, even if he didn’t explain.’

‘Well said, Tabs,’ murmured Frank.

‘Wait,’ said Joseph suddenly. They all turned to look at him. ‘Did you say Cyrus took Lucky Leo’s sword – and that was when the Duke of Garran stepped in?’

‘That’s right, mister,’ said Ty.

‘This sword – what did it look like?’

Ty shrugged.

‘I’ll bet it was silver, with star-stones in the hilt.’

Tabitha gasped and thumped the table with her fist. ‘The Sword of Corin! Newt was reading about it in the library. He wanted to know everything about it.’

‘The Duke locked it up in the House of Light,’ said Joseph. It was all falling into place now. ‘He must have
taken it and brought it back after the Battle of Illon. And they were trying to steal it from him – the cat and his gang of shapeshifters – only someone else had got there first. Whoever it was, they must have given it to Lucky Leo.’

The cat’s frantic voice came back to him.
Where is it? Where is the Sword of Corin?
Now they knew the answer.

Paddy shook his head. ‘I still don’t get it. Why would Newt risk everything just for a sword?’

‘Perhaps it is rather more than
just a sword
.’

They all turned to the speaker – Master Gurney. His eyes were bulging, magnified by his glasses. He raised a finger, his other hand held behind his back, as though he were about to deliver a lecture to a hall of eager students.

‘There are some, you see, who theorize that the Sword of Corin is in fact a form of vessel, or a conduit, if you will. In fact C. R. Willis uses the term “conductor”. I cannot say I subscribe to it myself. Rather far-fetched. But if you refer to his 1638 work
Arcane Objects and Magical Phenomena
, yes, which I expect you’ll have studied in—’

‘What’s it do?’ said Frank.

‘Ah yes, of course. To the point. Fear not, my friends, I shall be—’

‘Brief,’ said Paddy, who looked as close to losing his temper as Joseph had ever seen him. ‘Please? What’s it do, in ten words or less.’

Master Gurney knitted his brow, and his eyes swivelled upwards as he thought. After a few moments, he beamed. ‘
If
the theories are correct, and that is a rather big if … then the sword of Corin summons seraphs, thereby inducing the Scouring, in which all so-called demonspawn will be wiped off the face of the Old World.’

There was a long, stunned pause.

‘That ain’t ten words, mister,’ said Ty, at last.

‘Close enough,’ muttered Frank.

‘Right then,’ said Tabitha. She stood, readjusting her bandolier of throwing knives, her eyes glinting with purpose. ‘This Scouring – where does it start?’

‘Allegedly, at Corin’s Tomb,’ said Master Gurney. ‘But it’s pure speculation. I really don’t believe it can—’

‘The Duke believes it,’ Tabitha interrupted. ‘So we have to get going.’

‘No.’ Paddy stood, stooping slightly to fit under the low ceiling. ‘You two’ve got yourselves into enough trouble as it is. We’ll handle this – me and Frank and Hal.’

Joseph searched his face for any sign that he was joking – but for once, the troll was deadly serious.

‘My brother’s right,’ said Frank. ‘You’re back now, safe and sound, and Newt would never forgive us if anything else happened to you. Us – we’re more disposable.’ He smiled a tired smile.

‘Fear not, little ones,’ said Master Gurney.
Little ones.
Joseph could practically hear Tabitha grinding her teeth at that. ‘I shall look after you here at the Academy. Master Harrow is delivering a rather fascinating talk this afternoon –
Thaumaturgically Accelerated Herbology: Ars Magica and the Growing of Grass
. It’s only three hours, but afterwards we could—’

‘Joseph,’ said Hal. It was the first thing he’d said since they’d entered the room, but he spoke in such a serious tone that it silenced everyone. ‘Do you have it?’

‘Have what?’ said Frank.

Joseph knew exactly what the magician was talking about. He drew the wooden spoon from his pocket.

Hal sank back in his chair, letting out a sigh that seemed to deflate him entirely. ‘Thank Thalin.’

‘Wait – you mean Joseph’s had that all along?’ said Paddy. He shot a glance at Hal. ‘So Newt’s not the only one who’s been keeping secrets.’

‘Pardon me,’ said Master Gurney, ‘but is that the wooden spoon you mentioned when you arrived?’

‘Aye, that’s the one,’ said Frank. ‘’Cept it’s not just
a wooden spoon. It’s a special type of wand. It’s a … what do you call it? A leash.’

Master Gurney’s eyes almost popped out behind his spectacles. He fished in his robes for a handkerchief, and mopped his brow. ‘A
leash
? Goodness, I— But how in all the Old World did such an extraordinary item fall into the hands of a common tavern boy?’

‘It was my fault,’ said Hal, his voice trembling. ‘The night after the Battle of Illon, it disappeared from under my pillow. I thought Joseph might have taken it, but I wasn’t certain. I was ashamed, and I didn’t— I mean, I knew he wouldn’t be able to use it, so—’

‘I used it,’ said Joseph. ‘Twice.’

Hal went as white as a sail.

‘And he’s been brandishing that wand all over Azurmouth!’ spluttered Master Gurney. ‘Why didn’t you mention this before, dear Hal?’

‘I’m so sorry, I—’

Master Gurney turned to Joseph. ‘Young man, you have been extremely fortunate. Had the spell gone wrong, the consequences could have been disastrous.’

The cat’s warning flashed through Joseph’s mind once again, giving him an involuntary shudder.
So it really is as dangerous as he said.

‘Let me get this straight,’ said Paddy, raising an eyebrow at Master Gurney. ‘You’re not bothered
about a magical legendary sword, but when it comes to a battered old wooden spoon—’

‘You should have told us, Hal,’ said Frank gravely.

‘I know.’ Hal looked distraught now. ‘Please forgive me, Joseph. I truly didn’t believe that you would be capable of—’

The door slammed open, and a spotty youth in a black robe burst through it. He was sweating and panting heavily. ‘Master Gurney!’ he gasped. ‘You won’t believe what’s just landed in first quad. Follow me!’

‘We’ll continue this conversation later, Hal,’ said Master Gurney gravely. ‘A leash! Dear me.’

The youth led the way as the watchmen all rose and clattered down the spiral staircase, out onto the gravel of the courtyard. Black-robed figures clustered in doorways and leaned out of windows, all staring at the square of grass in the centre of the courtyard.

Joseph caught his breath.

Ty whistled, and Tabitha whooped. ‘Nell!’

The griffin strutted on the lawn. Out in the open her feathers shone more brightly, and her eyes seemed to glisten with life.
With freedom
. She opened his beak and let out a gentle squawk, stretched her wings and flapped once, sending a gust of wind that flattened the grass. She clawed at the ground with her talons, ripping up a chunk of turf.

‘Keep off the grass, you brute!’ squeaked an outraged old magician.

Nell ignored him.

‘What in Thalin’s name is she doing here?’ said Tabitha.

Joseph shook his head.

‘You know this beast?’ asked Master Gurney, stroking his beard nervously.

Tabitha nodded. ‘We saved her from a bile farm.’

‘Ah, well then!’ said Master Gurney. ‘Griffins are rather intelligent creatures, you see, with a surprisingly refined sense of justice. At least, according to Dr Matlock’s
Griffins: A Study.
I’ve never actually encountered one in the flesh before. In any case, if you helped it, I can only assume that it wishes to return the favour.’

Tabitha jabbed Joseph in the ribs. ‘Follow me,’ she whispered. Then she took off, running across the grass.

‘Tabs,’ said Frank, in a warning voice.

Joseph lurched after her, clutching the wooden spoon tightly. He could see what Tabitha was planning, and he couldn’t let her do it alone.

‘Joseph!’ shouted Paddy.

‘The leash!’ yelped Master Gurney.

But Tabitha was already scrambling up onto Nell’s
back. The griffin ruffled her feathers and tossed her beak, but made no attempt to throw her off.

‘Here,’ said Tabitha. ‘Take my hand.’

Joseph did so, clambering up onto the griffin. Its feathers were soft, but beneath them Joseph could feel a taut, muscled body. He tensed his legs, squeezing them into the creature’s sides, and wrapped his arms around Tabitha’s middle. Already he felt dangerously far from the ground.

‘Put that wand down at once!’ Master Gurney cried. ‘Please, you can’t possibly think of using it. Even if you’ve succeeded before, without the proper training it’s not safe. Not safe at all. The spell will only backfire, and then you’ll be letting Corin-knows-who into your own mind. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?’

‘You should listen to Master Gurney,’ said Hal. But he didn’t move. None of them moved. They just stood watching, faces unreadable.

‘I’m sorry,’ called Joseph. ‘We have to get there fast, before—’

Nell spread her wings with a sound like unfolding parchment, smothering Joseph’s last few words.

Oh, Thalin. Is she going to
…
?

She was.

Nell began to trot, jolting her riders up and down.
Then the trot became a run. A leap. Her wings flapped like sails in a storm.

‘No!’ shouted Master Gurney.

A huge rush of air hit Joseph, buffeting his face, bringing tears to his eyes and forcing them half closed. The Academy tilted crazily as they swerved in a spiral, up and away from the receding green square of grass.