The White Fox (33 page)

Early the following morning, Jack, Lucy, Sardâr, Adâ, Hakim, Ruth, Bál, and King Thorin were seated in the throne room. Golden sunlight slanted through the arched windows, throwing one half of the central table into bright light and the other into dim shadow. No one had spoken beyond curt greetings. They knew the seriousness of the situation, and Sardâr’s grim expression only emphasized this as he got to his feet.

“You are all here because what happens next will affect you, whether you like it or not. With the events of yesterday, we have entered a transitional phase between secret guerrilla combat and open warfare.” Sardâr reached into his tunic and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “This is a letter from Isaac. I believe the last one that he sent before his disappearance. I apologize; I did not maliciously withhold its contents from you. The reason I came here some weeks ago was to try to prevent this outcome, but now we are firmly set on this course and must make informed choices based on these facts.”

He unfolded the letter and began to read.

Sardâr,

As you know, I have found my way to Chthonia, a world on the very edge of the Darkness. I have made a drastic new discovery the Apollonians need to be aware of. There is little time, and I fear that my presence here has not gone unnoticed.

There is a new part of the legend of the Risa Star I have uncovered in an ancient document in this world. It speaks of one who led the bearers of the Shards of the Risa Star and reassembled it into a single device two thousand years ago. He was the Übermensch—the Great Mortal—the only one with the ability to wield the Risa Star in its entirety.

We can guard the Shards from the Cult to the best of our ability, but that will only result in a stalemate. Without the Übermensch we are powerless to unify them. So, our attack must be two-pronged; we must continue with our thwarting of the Cult’s ambitions to create a superweapon and continue searching for the Risa Star but also find the Übermensch.

Time is running out. Beware the white fox: he is not what he appears to be.

Isaac

Sardâr looked up, his expression, if possible, even grimmer.

No one spoke. As with the vision into the Cult’s plans the previous evening, everyone was running over what they had just heard, trying to make sense of it.

“So, not as easy as we thought,” Ruth remarked eventually, grimacing.

“No, it is not,” Sardâr agreed, replacing the letter in his tunic and beginning to pace around the room in his usual way. Then he stopped and stared at those gathered around the table, the same resolved glint in his eye that Jack had seen in the midst of the battle. “I think we need to reconsider our operations. We currently have possession of two Shards of the Risa Star, and the Cult definitely has one, possibly more, if we presume that Alex is indeed held captive by them. That timely insight into the Cult’s plans revealed two more locations where they expect to find them: Albion and Yarkii. I suggest that we dispatch a group of agents—small, so as to not attract suspicion—to each of these and try to acquire the Shard before the Cult does. Then we redeploy agents working against minor Cult insurgencies to redouble our search for the world of Nexus. If this is where the Aterosa is to be found, then we must, as Isaac says, sabotage it as soon as possible.”

It was a mark of Sardâr’s leadership that the entire assembled group was nodding along to this.

“What about this Übermensch?” Hakim asked.

Sardâr glanced at Jack before answering. “As of yet, we have no way of knowing who this might be or where he or she might be found. I recommend that we focus on our first objective and trust that this path will be revealed to us as we progress.” He stood up straight, scanning the listeners intently. “Are there any objections in principle to this course of action?”

Everyone shook their heads, including Jack and Lucy. Given the evidence, Sardâr seemed to have made some perfectly intelligent judgements.

“What is the white fox?” Hakim asked.

Sardâr shook his head. “I’m not yet sure.”

Jack looked down to avoid catching anyone’s eye. He supposed he should tell everyone about Inari at some point, but something made him bite his tongue. The fox spirit hadn’t led him astray so far, and the Apollonians didn’t need to know
right
now that he’d been keeping something from them all along. He’d thought he could trust Inari, despite his sporadic appearances and disappearances. He resolved to ask the fox about it when they next had a chance to speak.

Sardâr turned to Jack and Lucy. “You two have a choice. One option is for you to return to Earth. I cannot pretend that your hometown will be any safer than when you left it. We thought that with the focus of events here, you could return within weeks. But now that
this
Door to Darkness has been sealed, it is likely that the Cult will renew their efforts to reaccess the one on Earth.

“The other option—and I have discussed it with everyone in this room, bar Bál—is for you to join the Apollonians. You have both proved very brave in yesterday’s battle, and you are now more than capable of defending yourselves. We would feel honored if you joined us; you would be fighting for the defense of your home world and all others in the Light. And when we finally defeat the Cult once and for all, your home would be a much safer place.”

Jack became aware that everyone in the room was staring at them. He looked at Lucy and was reminded vividly of the two previous times they had faced this choice: in the library of the manor back on Earth and in Sardâr’s study after the volcano incident. The girl he was looking at now, though, was different than the one he had left Earth with. Her face was flushed with color from exercise and fresh air, and her hair was pinned back rather than arranged in a delicate style. She was changed—no, not changed; she had become the girl she truly was, as she might never have done if she’d stayed on Earth. He saw in her eyes the same sense of purpose that was now implanted at his core.

They both had an obligation to those they cared about. For Lucy, it was the ongoing well-being of her family and friends. For Jack, there were only two people who had really cared about him back at home, and one was at his side whilst the other was currently imprisoned by the Cult of Dionysus for trying to protect him. They had both enjoyed the protection of the Apollonians. It was now time for the rights and safety they enjoyed to be repaid in the duties they owed.

In unison, they turned to face the room and nodded.

Sardâr, Adâ, Hakim, Ruth, and Thorin nodded back at them. Their path was set.

Only Bál looked uncertain. He hesitated, then stood up.

Everyone looked at him, surprised—all except Sardâr, who stepped backwards out of the circle, smiling knowingly.

“I know I haven’t been the most inviting to you all,” Bál began hesitantly, “but in the last twenty-four hours my eyes have been opened. I don’t know exactly what this means”—he pulled the First Shard out from beneath his tunic—”but I know I want to find out. There’s much more of the world outside these mountains than I ever thought there could be. I want to join the Apollonians. I want to go with you, wherever that may take me, to help put an end to these sorcerers’ filthy schemes.”

The king looked surprised at his nephew’s change of heart, but none of the elves now looked particularly so.

Just as Jack had seen a new force within Lucy, he saw in Bál a warrior who had ruled his small world, now humbled before the breadth of his new experiences. He smiled involuntarily, and the dwarf seemed to take encouragement from this.

“I think,” Sardâr said to the room at large, “that Thengel and Bál need some time to discuss this.” He strode over to the door and held it open.

Jack, Lucy, and the elves issued out in a line, leaving the king and his nephew on opposite sides of the table.

They walked down the sun-dripped hallway, through bands of light and shadow. Jack was at the back, Sardâr far in front, and Hakim, Lucy, and Adâ talking amongst themselves. He caught a flicker of white on the edge of his vision. He turned instinctively, but it was already gone.

That didn’t stop him from hearing the low comment in the BBC accent.
“Good choice.”

Jack and Lucy packed their meagre possessions. They had little to take; their mangled school uniforms had been disposed of, so their only clothes were three additional sets of tunics and one more cloak. They also kept hold of their swords, sheathed firmly in scabbards designed to be worn diagonally over the shoulder, but on Sardâr’s advice they left the armor behind. Lucy hadn’t thought twice about pushing the entire contents of the bathroom, which was not unlike complimentary hotel toiletries, into her leather rucksack. Jack did not need much convincing to do the same; he had no idea where they were going and what they might need.

All the time they were packing, Sardâr’s words to them as they walked back through the fortress echoed in his head like a repetitive song. “If Bál elicits permission for travel from the king, which I’m sure he will, then there shall be six of us to begin dealing with this preemptive strike. Thengel is needed here to carry through the peace process, so we cannot rely on his help for the time being. From that snapshot of the Cult’s plans we know that they intend to infiltrate Albion and Yarkii.

“I will inform our other agents, including Charles’s group on Earth, that they should be especially on their guard and should redouble their efforts to discover the whereabouts of the planet of Nexus. Then I suggest we split into two groups and each one travel to a different world. As there are so few of us, it would be safest for Jack and Lucy to split up and be accompanied by two able guardians each. Jack, Bál, and I shall go to Albion, whilst Lucy, Adâ, and Hakim will go to Yarkii.”

They finished packing, and, after a last check of their rooms, they made their way down to the entrance in silence.

As agreed, they met outside the gate. The sun was still rising—a mark of just how early Sardâr had called them to the meeting. The rubble was beginning to be dispersed to the sides of the valley; some had been piled as far as possible against the surrounding cliff faces, others pushed into the large gorge that spanned across the valley.

When they arrived, they found a small send-off party awaiting them: Sardâr, Hakim, Adâ, King Thorin, Bál, and the small group of goblins who had survived the battle.

Vodnik flashed a toothy grin at them as they strode up.

“How are you doing?” Jack asked, smiling back.

The goblin looked tired but well; moreover, without his battle armor on, he looked positively amiable. “Good. I’ve been elected new chieftain,” he replied proudly, indicating a shiny metal bracelet on his wrist. “We owe you majorly, human. We want you to take this—both of you.”

One of the other goblins produced two more bracelets.

Jack noticed that they were all wearing them—a thick line of decorative jewelry up their left arms. He supposed it was the equivalent of tribal tattoos or military epaulettes.

The bracelets were passed to Vodnik, and he clasped them around Jack’s and Lucy’s left wrists on the same arm as the glowing language rings. They appeared to be something like burnished steel, curved in a wavelike spiked pattern with a glimmering jewel set in each. “It ain’t much, but you’re honorary goblins as well as dwarves now.”

Jack and Lucy smiled in gratitude, cracking their knuckles with each goblin in turn.

Then something occurred to Jack, and he said in a lowered voice in case anyone else was listening, “How did you know we’re not elves? None of the dwarves worked that out at all.”

Vodnik grinned slyly at him. “We ain’t
completely
stupid.”

The king in full regal clothing was next, and he nodded at them, smiling slightly. “It would not be too much of an exaggeration to say that your stay here was enjoyable?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go
that
far,” Lucy said, smirking.

The two of them shook hands with Thorin and bowed their heads. “Bál’s coming with us, then?”

The king and his nephew exchanged looks. Bál looked slightly odd out of his ceremonial guard uniform or armor. He wore a deep red tunic, not unlike that of the miners’, with a backpack and a large cluster of pouches clamped close to him by leather belts. He looked almost like an American pioneer with his ruddy complexion and a wide-brimmed hat on his strawberry-blond crown.

“Yes, I am,” he said. “I have been granted leave until this threat is sated. It is to be presented as a matter of international security to the public.”

“Have you got everything?” Sardâr asked.

“Yep. Clothes, boots”—Jack glanced at Lucy—“and any complimentary stuff we could grab from our rooms.”

Everyone laughed.

“Good. We’re going to be travelling for a while.”

“How’re we getting to this Yarkii place, anyway?” Lucy asked, looking at Hakim and Adâ.

“Vince is coming to pick us up in the dimension ship,” Adâ replied, not without a hint of her old disdain.

Lucy cleared her throat slightly; the memories of their last little adventure obviously still turned her stomach.