The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) (47 page)

“Yeah, I think I get it,” Penny considered, “but I still don’t get how we can just take it directly from one another…”

“Simple. We’re just taking out the middleman, which in this case is the Dawn Mirror. All the Dawn Mirror does is move magic and souls along from world to world. When we do it this way, Hector just pulls the magic that’s in your aura before it goes into the Dawn Mirror, and when he’s done using it up, this machine gathers up the by-product. So instead of the magic being redistributed globally through the Dawn Mirror, we get it immediately right in this very spot.”

“But you’ll need at least one person from Earth and Nelvirna for it to do any good—and as you probably remember, I’m the last living person from Nelvirna,” Hector told Argent, who nodded.

“Which is why I need to make use of your talents while you’re still here,” Argent pondered aloud, stroking his chin.

Penny jumped up off the workbench and swatted all the sawdust from her backside. “We’ve got to get to the palace, remember? We can decide what to do with the magic after we get back.”

Argent gave directions, and they collected up their royal badges and the message from King Noah. Hector collected Simon from the main room of Argent’s house, where he was busy trying to chat up Annette. The actress jumped up and followed them to the door.

Hector turned and gave her a hard look. “Where do you think you’re going? I thought we agreed you were going to stay here.”

Annette frowned. “Hector, I can’t stay here alone with
him
!” she whined, throwing a reproachful look back at Argent. “He’s creepy…” she murmured.

Hector’s decision was firm. “Sorry, Miss Annette, but it will be much safer for you here.”

“We’ll be back before you know it, Annette,” Penny consoled her.

HULVER WAS ALIVE with activity and hordes of people crowding the streets. According to Argent, the Goblin Carnival was set to start the next day at dawn. Because of this the traffic in the city was staggering, making it hard to move and breathe. The three of them fought their way to the nearby Tunnels and took a stuffy Spider-Car to the center of the city. By the time they reached fresh air again it was nearing midday, and the sky was blanketed by a thick cloud cover that seemed to make the environment of Hulver, with its teeming crowds and halo of smog, all the more oppressive.

The palace itself was no challenge to locate. Its crooked black towers, ramparts and bastions spiraled up toward the sky at a dizzying height. The palace was built from ebony stone in a style that reminded Penny of the Gothic castles of Britain, only leagues more unstable. Many of the towers and halls appeared to have been piled on top of each other at random or added on as an afterthought.

Although they had the castle in their sights, the entrance proved difficult to find. The streets and alleyways were so twisted and cluttered with store displays it was almost impossible to find their way, even with Argent’s directions. After squeezing through a narrow alleyway where pipes above their heads shot jets of steam out, the trio discovered a great balcony that led into the castle, set high above the ground at the end of a very long, wide street. It took a while before they realized in disappointment that it seemed to be a structure built only for members of the royal court to address the public.

At last Penny forced Simon and Hector to stop and ask for help. Several of the goblins pretended they were not being spoken to, but a kind young gobless with hair sweeping to her ankles showed them the way to the palace gates.

The entrance to the castle was tucked away from sight, and it was no surprise to Penny that they had missed it earlier. Two goblin soldiers stood sentinel to either side of the gate and gave the three of them dubious looks as they approached and showed their badges. One of the soldiers stepped into the castle and the group was asked to wait.

Minutes later they were led through the gate. The inside of the castle was just as unwelcoming as the outer architecture. Stairwells, twisty corridors, and large, obtuse doorways loomed out of every dusty corner. Candelabras caked with hundreds of years’ worth of wax and cobwebs hung from the walls and ceilings of every room. The guard guided them through chamber after chamber, each one more imbalanced and off-kilter than the last, until they reached a massive antechamber within the heart of the castle.

“Wait here, honored guests,” the goblin guard grumbled from underneath his horned helmet, and clanked off.

Penny looked around. At the very end of the cavernous hall stood three thrones, two made of dark wood and one in the center carved of a white stone that would’ve looked handsome, had it not been tarnished with so much grime. Aside from the thrones there was nothing in the hall save the six doors set off in odd, asymmetrical points throughout the hall.

Penny’s attention was drawn to one of the doors that had been left ajar. Behind it, shrouded in almost complete darkness, Penny was positive she caught a glimpse of something moving around. Before she could get any closer, another door at the opposite end of the chamber swung open and a tall goblin stepped out.

On average many goblins were around Penny’s height or shorter, but this goblin was a jarring exception. He was a hair taller than Hector and even skinnier, with thin, gauzy skin. Penny could see the fragile bones working underneath it as he crossed the room to greet them. He had no hair to speak of, but wore a tall hat with the crest of the Angel Nestor embroidered into it. He smiled at them as he swept into the room, his many rich cloaks and robes fluttering about his feet.

“My friends, you have finally arrived. Word was sent from Iverton more than a week ago that we should be expecting a messenger party. We grew worried that you may have been, ah,
intercepted
…how glad we are to see that is not the case,” the goblin said in a weak, breathy voice as he sidled up to them, wringing his delicate wrists.

“We ran into a spot of trouble. I apologize sincerely for our tardiness,” Hector said with a regal politeness that seemed natural. He made a sweeping bow of humility before the skeletal figure.

The goblin nodded. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Bishop Flennig. Originally you were to meet with his majesty King Yulghrat, but unfortunately he is feeling unwell and will be unable to have an audience. I trust this will meet with the King of Men’s approval?”

Hector replied that it would be no trouble at all.

“Eh, what did you say that your names were, friends?” the Bishop inquired with a certain shrewdness that rubbed Penny the wrong way.

Hector scratched at the back of his head before replying with the faux names they had determined. “We didn’t. I’m Professor Reginald Rasmussen of the Academy of Iverton and head of foreign language and relations department. This is my star pupil, Miss Miriam Winthrop, and my long-time friend and associate, Mr. Rex Snyder.”

Looking unconvinced, the Bishop ushered them through one of the doors to a sitting room. Simon walked closer to Penny, whispering in English, “I thought Armonie said that only women were allowed to be members of the clergy in Elydria? Didn’t the Angel guy, Nestor, make a decree about it or something?”

Penny shrugged, unable to look away from the open door. The black fissure of darkness beckoned to her. Something about it both frightened and mesmerized her. She caught another drifting movement in the darkness beyond and her curiosity flared even stronger.

The door was swept from her view as they were ushered into a sitting room that was as comfortless as the rest of the palace. They were told to sit on a stone bench as the Bishop donned spectacles and unfurled the sealed envelope, his papery skin rubbing against the letter with an unpleasant sound. He finished reading the letter and looked up, mouth agape.

“I must say, this news it most troubling.” Bishop Flennig shuddered. “We of the Nation of Goblins are just as puzzled by the appearance of wraiths on Ciellos as you are. No official party of goblins attended the ball this year, and I assure you that we, as a Nation, are in no way associated with this tragedy. I must arrange for an official meeting with the human ambassadors. I shall begin writing an official response immediately. Kindly wait here.” The Bishop rose from his stone chair and exited.

Hector turned to Penny and Simon, whispering in English, “Something’s not right here. Why would a bishop receive us and not the ambassadors themselves? And on top of that, where is everyone? I haven’t seen a single soul since we entered the palace.”

“You’re right. It is weird, now that you mention it,” Simon muttered, glancing around in surprise.

Penny stood up and paced around the room. Something was stirring within her, and she found herself humming
Row, Row, Row Your Boat
, repeating the last line several times under her breath. She could hear a low conversation taking place on the other side of the door where the Bishop had exited.

Life is but a dream, life is but a dream…

“Hector’s right,” she declared, her heart racing as she realized what she had been doing. “Maybe we should get out of here, I feel like―”

“Shush!” Hector hissed, springing to his feet as his face drained of all color. He pressed his ear up against the door listened for a moment. He spun and faced Penny and Simon with an expression of frantic urgency.

“
Run!
We need to leave, now!” he commanded in a harsh whisper, ushering them to the door from which they had entered. He had just grasped the handle when the door behind them swung open and a figure stepped inside. Penny’s blood ran cold. It was Deimos.

“Greetings, Professor Ras―impossible. You’re the girl from the Ball—and
you
—!” the one-eyed man stopped mid-sentence, his eye traveling from Penny’s face to Simon’s. Snarling, Deimos barreled over to the magician, who squealed like a frightened animal and cowered against the wall.

“
How did you―
?” Deimos roared, grabbing at Simon’s shirt and yanking him forward as Simon’s top hat toppled from his head. Without warning, Hector threw a solid punch that struck the man square in the face.

Though Hector was not a man of great physical strength, the shock was enough to throw Deimos back for a moment. Simon snatched back his hat as the three of them scrambled out and slammed the door shut behind them. Hector shot back a sealing spell at the door, containing Deimos and the Bishop. They skidded across the wide hall, listening to the sounds of fumbling and angry voices behind the door. Penny ran in the direction she hoped led to the palace entrance.

“No! There are guards near the front, we have to hide!” Hector cried and swiveled around to face the door still hanging open beside the thrones. Penny didn’t have time to object and raced after Simon as he hurtled toward the door. Hector pushed the door at the end of the hall aside and slipped in, waiting for Simon and Penny to make it inside before returning it to its original almost-shut state.

It was as black as midnight in the room. Hector, Simon, and Penny huddled together as they listened to the sounds of pounding and wrathful yells from the hall beyond. Penny tried not to think of what could have been moving about in the darkness of the room they now cowered within. After several tense moments, a deafening crash was heard, followed by a clamor of loud footsteps.

“Where did they go?” Deimos’s voice reverberated throughout the hall, sounding twice as intimidating as usual. There was a huffing accompanied with a fluttering of robes, and then the Bishop’s voice shook through the halls between sharp breaths.

“They must’ve gone toward the exit. How could they have possibly known that we were going to―?”

“Silence, you old fool! Don’t you realize who that
was
? It was that half-wit from the
other
world,
Adrielle’s world
―I gave him a wand, remember? We told him to off that Fairfax girl that Lord Nestor wants dead, though he
obviously
doesn’t have enough brains to assassinate a pofflin, much less someone like
her
. Besides, we only used him to get Adrielle’s attention. The girl is already dead, we set some wraiths on her―but now he’s here somehow and―” Deimos raged, but was interrupted.

“I don’t understand, what do you mean?” the Bishop’s voice wavered as he tried to catch his breath.