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.
FLIGHT AND FRIGHT
Ian, 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 elde
r 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.”
“What has he stolen?” the head priest asked, his tone changing to concern.
“A whistle,” the desperate father said. “And I must have it back!”
Ian went rigid and out the corner of his eye he could see that Carl had too.
“I never took any whistle!” Wolfie said feebly, and then he too stiffened. Turning his head slowly, the young boy looked at Carl and at the shiny gold whistle dangling from his neck. “You!” he said accusingly.
“I can explain,” said Carl, looking at Ian as if to ask for help.
Ian pressed his lips together and wrapped one hand around Wolfie’s mouth and the other around his middle. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said as the boy struggled against him. Almost immediately he felt Wolfie bolt into his thoughts and nearly convince him to let him go.
Desperate to fight off the feeling, Ian smacked his head against the wall, and in his arms he felt Wolfie flinch even as his own head erupted in pain. “Carl!” Ian commanded. “We’ve got to be off!”
Carl slapped his hand over the one covering Wolfie’s mouth and grabbed Ian by the arm. “He can’t get into both our heads,” he said, and began to lead them to the edge of the woods.
Ian knew that at any moment they might be spotted, but they had to risk it now that Wolfie knew he and Carl had been in his house and had stolen his father’s things.
His own ears were ringing with the smack he’d given himself, and he wished he hadn’t done that quite so hard. Once Carl brought them into the trees, Ian sank to his knees to catch his breath. Wolfie was small for a boy, but he was still heavy.
“Ian!” Carl said, crouching down and keeping his hand firmly over Ian’s. “We must move deeper into the trees! I believe Van Schuft saw us!”
Ian gulped down a lungful of air and struggled to stand up again. Wolfie kicked and squirmed but Ian wasn’t about to let go. He had taken two steps when Carl paused, let go of Ian, and moved to a tree, which he thumped his own head against. Again, Wolfie flinched in Ian’s arms, and Carl turned around, saying, “Do that again and I’ll give myself such a wallop that you’ll be sorry for a month!”
Ian would have smiled if the situation hadn’t been so dire. “We must find Mr. Goodwyn!” Ian said desperately.
Carl appeared to waver between helping Ian with Wolfie and dashing off to retrieve their schoolmaster. “It’s just a bit farther,” he said, taking up Wolfie’s feet, and Ian was glad he’d decided to stay with him.
The muddy forest floor dragged them down as they wound their way through the wet foliage, at last coming to the spot where a very wet Perry stood waiting miserably in the rain for them.
“Whatever took you lads so long?” he said when he’d spotted them.
Again, Ian sank to his knees, his arms ready to give way under the weight of the still struggling lad. Perry came forward quickly and helped Ian with Wolfie, but when Ian took his hand away from the boy’s mouth, Wolfie let out a small shout before Ian could clamp it down again.
“Let me,” Perry insisted, winding his own arms around Wolfie and being careful not to let him shout again.
“Thank you, sir,” Ian said, letting go and sagging against a tree.
Perry smiled. “Of course,” he said, then turned and set Wolfie down. Patting him on the head, he said, “Off with you now, young man. Back to your father you go.”
The next moment, Wolfie jumped toward Carl, snapped the whistle from his neck, and dashed away back toward the abbey, blowing mightily on the whistle as he ran.
“No!” Ian shouted, bolting after him, but he was caught by the arm and held firmly in check by Perry.
Meanwhile, Carl, who’d been left a little stunned when the whistle had been torn from his neck, collected himself and dashed off after Wolfie. Ian watched helplessly as the pair quickly disappeared into the thick tangle of trees. The moment Wolfie was out of sight, Perry released Ian and wobbled backward. “I say, Ian, what just happened?”
Ian didn’t wait to explain; instead, he took off running after Carl and Wolfie. He’d gone perhaps a hundred meters when he heard a sharp yelp and a desperate cry for help.
Ian ran straight for the noise and within seconds came upon a sight that pulled him up short. Adrastus of Lixus had hold of both Wolfie and Carl, although only Wolfie seemed to be fighting the restraint.
Looking up at Ian, the general smiled and said, “These two belong to you?”
“General!” Ian said, panting for air. “Thank you for catching the Thinker.”
Adrastus turned Wolfie, who was dangling above the ground, to face him. “Your mind games won’t work on me, little one. Best to save your strength, eh?”
“Let me go!” Wolfie cried pitifully, but Adrastus clearly had no intention of doing that. He did release Carl, however, who seemed all too glad to set his feet back on the ground.
Carl brushed himself off, pocketed the whistle he’d recovered from Wolfie, and asked, “Where’s Mistress Adria and Iyoclease?”
Adrastus appeared surprised. “They’ve come through the portal with you?”
Both Ian and Carl nodded. “They split up from us to go in search of you, sir,” Ian told him.
The general pressed his lips together in irritation. “I have not seen them,” he said. “And now that you have the Thinker, this is most unsettling. The portal will be opening soon, especially since I have the box with me.”
“You’ll give it to us?” Ian asked him. “Just like that?”
Adrastus nodded. “It appears that if you two found the fifth Oracle here, then that is what the prophecy wants me to do,” he said. “I should not want my wife and Iyoclease to be in this dangerous place a moment longer than necessary. Come. I will see you to the portal and across, then go in search of my wife and Iyoclease.”
“But what about Mr. Goodwyn?” Carl protested, his eyes searching the woods for any sign of their schoolmaster.
“There’s one more with us, General,” Ian said. “Our schoolmaster, who was waiting for us to coax Wolfie out of the school.”
Adrastus growled, his impatience clearly expressed in his dark eyes, but at that moment, Perry appeared. Yet even when he waved to them, Ian saw the general put a hand on his sword. “He’s our friend, General,” Ian said quickly.
Adrastus’s eyes slanted at Ian. “You are friends with the SS?”
“It’s a costume,” Carl told him. “We pinched it from Van Schuft’s home.”
The general’s eyebrows rose. “Van Schuft? He is here?”
Ian nodded. “His house is just up this hill and to the left. You can see it from the entrance to the portal.”
In Adrastus’s arms, Wolfie squirmed and struggled with renewed vigor. “And that’s Van Schuft’s son,” Carl said, a mean look in his eyes. “Can you believe that Laodamia actually wants us to bring him back through the portal?”
Adrastus appeared thoughtful, and he eyed the small boy curiously. “Van Schuft’s son?” he said. “Well then, lads, by all means, let’s send him through to Dover before his father can intercede.”
Perry led them through the drizzle up the slippery slopes. When they all heard the sound of an approaching motorcar, they waited for it to pass. Ian saw with some satisfaction that behind the wheel was Dieter Van Schuft, but poor Wolfie saw his father too and he took up his battle to be released from the steel embrace of General Adrastus. “There, the
re, lad,” Adrastus told him. “You’ll not get loose from my grip, so it’s better to stop your squirming.”
Wolfie complied, rather abruptly, actually; however, in the next moment, Perry had stepped into the roadway and was waving frantically after the motorcar.
Carl rounded immediately on Wolfie and struck him across the head. “Stop it!” he snarled.
Ian called to his schoolmaster, but it was too late. Van Schuft had seen Perry in the rearview mirror, and the motorcar screeched to a halt. Adrastus swore under his breath and silently edged back down the slope, taking Wolfie out of range.
Ian and Carl remained hidden in the shrubbery, watching with pounding hearts as the motorcar backed up and came to stop next to Perry.
Although Ian strained to hear what was said, he could hear nothing coherent, so he could only stare at his schoolmaster and attempt to read his body language. To his horror, Perry merely nodded and went round to the other side of the vehicle before glancing gravely in their direction and getting in. A moment later Van Schuft gunned the engine and he and Perry sped off.
“Oh, this is a bloody fine mess!” Carl snapped, stepping up to the roadway and peering after the motorcar. “Where do you think he’s taken him?”
Ian didn’t have a chance to answer. Behind him the foliage rustled and up came the general. “What’s happened?” he asked.
“Van Schuft’s taken Mr. Goodwyn.”
“Taken him?” Adrastus repeated.
Ian nodded.
“Was it against his will?”
“No,” Ian said. “I believe he went of his own accord.”
Adrastus nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Let’s be on our way to the portal door.”
Ian’s jaw dropped. “But what about Mr. Goodwyn?” he cried. “We can’t just leave him!”
The general leveled his eyes at Ian. “We can, and we must,” he said. “Your friend has gained us a distraction and some valuable time, Ian. We should not waste the opportunity.”
Carl brashly approached the general, however, his hands firmly placed on his hips. “No!” he yelled. “Mr. Goodwyn is our friend, and we’ll not go back through the portal without him!”