The Boy Who Went Magic Page 13

  The situation is dire. Half of the crew have succumbed to the illness or been killed. There was a sudden attack by the creatures—having seen the risen men up close for myself, I can attest that they are no longer human—during the second watch’s evening meal. More of the afflicted are rising even as I write. I am turning the ship off course to make an emergency landing as soon as we clear the forest, where we will destroy the vessel and set out with what supplies we can. It is a desperate plan, but in my opinion it is the only course left to us. I curse my foolishness for accepting that terrible object from the prince. Where could he have found such a thing, and why would he have given it to us ? I must confront him if I survive this ordeal …

  There was a final, chilling entry.

  All is lost. The crew has been overcome. I am the last man left, and I am now trapped in my cabin. A strange black liquid covers the walls. It seems to drain my energy, and prevents me from breaking through the planks. The air is stifling. Under the circumstances, I feel assured that the ship will soon crash—I only wish that I could make sure of its total destruction. I leave this as a record of what has occurred, and a warning to any others that reach this ship—the crew may be dead, but they do not rest, and I fear they never will. Get away as fast as you can.

  Bert’s breath seemed to leave his body. “Professor, you have to read this right now,” he said. He forced the book under the Professor’s nose, and pointed to the last section.

  The Professor read it swiftly. “Oh,” he said. “That isn’t good.”

  Just then Bert noticed something above them, and cast the light of the Professor’s lantern upward. It revealed two words carved in large letters on the ceiling:

  “GET AWAY.”

  Bert and the Professor stared at the stark warning scrawled across the ceiling. Bert hardly dared move.

  “Hmmm,” said the Professor. He raised his voice: “Finch!”

  Finch gave a yell of alarm from the storage hold. She rushed to the doorway and called them over with a wave of her hand. “Look at that thing,” she said.

  Something was shambling out of the gloom. To begin with Bert only saw a mass of rags in the darkness. But as it came closer he saw a bony leg and a grinning skull.

  “What is it?” said Bert.

  “It seems to be a living skeleton,” said the Professor, in obvious puzzlement.

  The skeleton walked jerkily toward them.

  “It seems pretty harmless,” said Finch.

  The skeleton gave a sudden scream and charged at her.

  The Professor cut it short with a swift punch. The blow hit with a force that sent the gray bones shattering to pieces. “It’s not harmless,” he said. “What happened?”

  “I just opened a cupboard and that thing came out,” said Finch. She looked more annoyed than shaken. “That’s not that spirit you were talking about, is it, Bert?”

  Bert shook his head. “My spirit didn’t look like that.”

  “Well, we’ve got what we needed,” said the Professor. “It’s probably time we left.” As he spoke there was a crunch in the ice overhead, and a skeletal hand appeared through the ceiling.

  Bert gave a cry of surprise.

  “Get out of here, you two,” said the Professor. He snapped the arm in two with a quick swipe. “We’ll make our way back to the airship and burn this place behind us.”

  “I’ll check the way out,” said Bert. He hurried ahead to the door but found that it was shut fast. He was sure that they had left it open when they entered.

  The Professor drew his sword and stood facing a shuddering block of ice against the far wall. Something seemed to be trying to force its way through.

  “How’s that exit, Bert?” said Finch, catching up to him.

  Bert shoved his shoulder against the door but it wouldn’t budge. He tried again but it felt like someone was pressing on it from the other side. He looked around and saw black liquid running down the walls, pooling in every corner of the room. “I can’t get out,” he gasped.

  Finch ran up and kicked the door. It made a cracking sound but didn’t budge. “There’s something holding it closed,” she said. “Draw your sword.”

  Bert reached down and fumbled for the hilt.

  “Just like training,” said Finch, reassuringly. “Don’t get panicked.”

  Bert drew his sword calmly and nodded.

  The light from the lanterns grew dull and began to stutter, and the closeness of the air made him feel ill. Something powerful was approaching. There wasn’t a way out. It felt more like they were in a dark cave than the hold of a ship.

  Suddenly, a large gray skeleton stepped from the door of a nearby locker, moving as casually as if it were walking out of one room and into another. It had a large sword in its hand and was covered in old, rusted armor. It swung an upward blow at the Professor, then reversed the blade’s momentum and delivered a mighty chop downward, aiming for his head.

  The Professor dodged aside and knocked the blade away. He cracked the figure’s chest with a flash of his sword and then braced his legs and punched from his shoulder. There was a snap like breaking wood, and the skeleton disintegrated across the planks.

  “I don’t like the look of these things,” said the Professor.

  “Well, at least they’re not invincible,” said Finch. She ran to a ruptured section of the wall and tried kicking the planks. The hull shook, and a pile of snow burst in. “We might be able to get out this way,” she said. “Hold them off for a moment while I try and make a tunnel.”

  Bert nodded, but as he stood guard another shambling figure stepped into view, then another, and another. A whole host of skeletons were emerging from hiding.

  “Keep your guard up,” yelled the Professor. He ran forward and drew out two of the skeletons with a series of attacks, but a third raced past and made for Bert. His instincts kicked in as the skeleton charged. He raised his hand and a shockwave blasted the creature to pieces.

  Another skeleton dropped down from the beams.

  He barely had time to block its sword. The blow was strong, but he caught it squarely and forced the sharp end downward, like he’d been taught in training.

  He lashed out with his own attack.

  His sword seemed to pass straight through the skeleton’s ribs. The creature made a hissing sound, and swung again. It was only by a lucky dodge that he avoided the blade.

  “Don’t let them corner you!” yelled the Professor.

  Bert raised his guard again and tried to focus, but a feeling of helplessness came over him. The creature was fast and nimble and his first attack hadn’t hurt it at all.

  The skeleton drew its sword high and swung at his head.

  Finch leapt in and took the skeleton’s head off with a swift kick. “There’s too many of them to try digging our way out,” she said. “Try to keep dodging.” She spun to a metal crate as she spoke, and kicked with the full force of her metal leg. There was a sharp clang and the crate shot across the floor, knocking the legs from under a group of skeletons.

  Bert was separated from her as another attacker ran in. He blocked deftly but he winced at the speed of the creature’s strike. It wasn’t giving him a chance to use his powers.

  The skeleton gave a hiss, grabbed his sword, and knocked him back. The weapon sprang from his grasp. He thudded against a stack of barrels and felt the air leave his lungs.

  The skeleton swung at his head.

  He ducked just in time and raised his hand. There was a sharp flash and the creature’s bones fell to fragments. He breathed a sigh of relief and snatched his sword from the floor.

  When he turned, he was horrified to find even more of the creatures had invaded the hold. Finch was kicking skeletons left and right. Their bones went rattling along the floor.

  Bert couldn’t even see the Professor clearly anymore, only white flashes and dark blades where he was fighting at the other side of the shelves. Bert ran to help but as he did so another creature appeared in front of him. This
one held an ax. It swung broadly and shattered the crates on either side of Bert’s head. The splinters spun in the air and stung his face.

  He pointed his hand at it and tried to will the power to strike. But this time nothing happened. A pain shot through his palm and he felt coldness around his heart. It occurred to him that he had never used his power this frequently. He felt suddenly weak.

  The ax came in again. This time Bert got his sword up to block but the blow was too strong. His weapon sprang out of his hands again with a sharp clank and spun across the floor. He staggered up onto the crates, climbing frantically as the ax chopped down. A stack of barrels exploded behind him as he ran. The ax became embedded in the hull and the skeleton snarled.

  As Bert was struggling to get away he saw a pair of skeletons charging for Finch. He could see that she was already engaged in a duel with a fierce-looking creature.

  He leapt from the boxes and tackled them.

  The skeletons fell with him and they landed in a heap among a pile of ropes. One of the creatures grabbed his arm and wouldn’t let go. The other grabbed his feet.

  The ax-wielding skeleton was approaching.

  Bert felt a jolt of fear. “Help!” he yelled.

  Finch leapt high across the hold and swung from a beam to land beside Bert. She kicked one skeleton to pieces and struck the other’s arm off. “Keep fighting,” she said.

  Bert leapt to his feet and managed a quick “Thanks” before the ax-wielding skeleton charged.

  “Look out!” shouted Bert. He pulled Finch aside and raised his hand. A shockwave blasted a thick cloud of dust around him and took the creature off its feet, and a sharp pain shot through Bert’s chest. He clutched his hand. One of the lanterns cracked and a lick of flame shot across the floor.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Finch.

  “I’m all right,” said Bert, shaking away the pain.

  “Try your power on the door,” yelled the Professor. “Don’t hit the explosives.”

  Bert shuddered when he remembered the barrels of gunpowder lying around. Finch was already fighting another sword-wielding skeleton. “I’ll keep you covered,” she called over her shoulder.

  Bert nodded. He opened his palm and put his hand against the door. Nothing happened. A thick black tar covered the woodwork and made a sucking sound against his skin. The scar’s energy seemed to fade from his body. He snatched his hand back and tried again.

  This time it felt even weaker. “Come on,” he urged.

  A host of creatures were converging on them. The Professor was firing off punches and swings in every direction and somehow dodging the incoming blows, but he was surrounded by enemies. There was no way he could reach them in time.

  Finch was struggling to keep the monsters back.

  Bert closed his eyes and tried to focus. He raised his palm and aimed at the door, trying to feel the energy. He could see the glow crackling around his scar.

  Something blunt hit his shoulder and sent him tumbling.

  “Bert!” yelled Finch. She helped him up and kicked apart the skeleton that had attacked him, but the rest of the creatures were quick to follow. They backed them into a corner.

  “Keep close,” said Finch.

  Bert felt dizzy from the blow. He saw a line of skulls peering at him in the glow of the flames from the broken lantern. It was like a nightmare.

  Suddenly he saw smoke in front of him. It seemed to rise from his skin, growing thicker and more distinct, until a gray figure appeared, floating over the ground.

  Bert blinked in shock. “The spirit,” he said. “The spirit from the prison.”

  The skeletons raised their weapons and slunk back from the new apparition. They were clearly afraid of it. Their jaws hung open in almost comical surprise.

  The Professor glanced around. “What’s gotten into them?”

  “Can’t you see it?” said Bert.

  The apparition raised its hands and a burst of red light swept over the room. The light passed harmlessly over Bert, Finch, and the Professor, but it hit the skeletons like an explosion. With a piercing scream the creatures fell into dust. Bert sensed that the spirit had used all of its energy in the attack. It seemed to shimmer in his vision, grow more solid, and sink to the floor.

  Bert was stunned for a moment. He couldn’t see clearly, but he could still hear the flames of the lantern licking against the wall and crackling along the beams. The ice was melting fast and a thick, hissing steam rolled across the room. In the spot where the spirit had fallen, he saw a small, dark shape lying on the planks. It looked like a person.

  He hurried over to it. “Hey,” he said.

  The Professor and Finch met in the center of the room and looked at Bert in confusion. “What are you staring at?” said Finch. “What was that light?”

  “I think someone’s hurt here,” said Bert.

  There was rumble of distant cannon fire.

  “That’s the warning shot,” said the Professor. “We’d better get back to the ship. We can thank our stars about this later,” he said, grabbing Bert’s shoulder.

  “Wait!” repeated Bert. He knelt over the figure.

  “What are you looking at?” said Finch.

  Bert was annoyed by their obliviousness. It was as if they couldn’t see the person at all. He leaned down and turned the figure over. For a moment he was stunned.

  “Norton?” he said.

  Norton blinked up at him. “Hello, Bert.”

  There was a thump above them, and a deep rumble. The Professor looked alarmed. “I don’t like that,” he said. “Come on, Bert. This isn’t a good time to become dead weight.”

  “Wait,” said Finch. “I think he can see something.”

  Bert was too stunned to think clearly. “Norton,” he said. “What on earth are you doing here? You were supposed to stay on the ship. Why would you have followed us?”

  The Professor and Finch stared at him in apparent concern.

  “Did you hit your head, Bert?” asked Finch.

  “It’s Norton,” said Bert. He couldn’t understand why they were being so dense. “We’ve got to get him out of here. Somehow he must have gotten down from the ship.”

  “Who’s Norton?” said the Professor.

  “Norton, my friend,” said Bert. He felt like he was trapped in a bad dream. “He’s been my friend since … since …” He found himself growing confused. He realized that he couldn’t remember having seen Norton before the day at the museum. But another part of his mind told him that he had known Norton for years. It didn’t make sense. He was getting dizzy.

  There was a sudden thump close by and the door burst open. A group of soldiers flooded the hold with their guns raised, and a small shiny object flashed over the floor. Bert flinched away from it on instinct and recognized the dark crystal from the prison.

  “Look out!” shouted the Professor.

  Norton reached out his hand to Bert. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. The crystal ignited beside him with its eerie green glow.

  Norton’s grip passed through Bert’s fingers.

  “Norton!” yelled Bert. He clutched for his friend’s hand but there was nothing to get hold of. It was as if he was swiping through smoke. “What’s happening?”

  Norton’s face had almost vanished.

  Bert resisted the pain and made a grab for the crystal, but by then it was too late. The green light crackled and went out, and Norton was gone. It was as if he had never been there at all.

  Heavy footsteps crunched over the wreckage of the hold floor. Voss stepped out from behind the soldiers. “I wouldn’t advise trying to run,” he said. “My men are good shots.”

  The Professor and Finch looked at him warily.

  Bert had a hollow feeling in his chest. He looked down at his hand and felt a sharp pain. Through his bandages he could see his skin turning a purple tinge.

  Voss approached. “I suppose you might experience some side effects, being severed from yo
ur spirit friend like that.” He picked up the dark crystal and placed it into a small, spherical frame, surrounded by glass. “I have it contained now. Whatever happens to you will make no difference to my plans. I no longer need your power to keep it alive.”

  Bert felt suddenly weak. His head swam.

  Voss held up the glowing sphere and paced back over the room. “You should have been more cooperative, boy,” he said. “I might have let you live.” He picked up the logbook.

  Finch leaned forward on her feet.

  “I wouldn’t,” said Voss.

  The Professor nodded and Finch relented. The soldiers had them covered, but Bert could sense that they were eyeing the room—looking for some way out.

  Voss tossed the logbook into the flames and watched it burn. “There are no answers for you here,” he said. “A person like you was never meant for power.”

  Bert tried to stand. His thoughts grew clearer. He knew now that the person he’d thought of as Norton had been the spirit all along. He couldn’t let Voss take his friend away. A sense of desperation took hold. He could already feel the pain of the spirit being drawn away from him. “Give him back to me,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing,” snapped Voss. His words echoed in the small space. The hold fell silent except for the crackling flames. Voss walked back to the soldiers.

  “I have information,” said the Professor. “Something important.”

  Voss hesitated. He paused by the row of guns. “I can see that you’re just trying to delay the inevitable. I thought that a man like you would know when he’s beaten.”

  “It could save your life,” said the Professor.

  Voss looked at him levelly. “Tell me what you know, pirate, and I might let your daughter choose prison instead of death,” he said.

  The Professor nodded seriously. “All right,” he said. “It’s actually better that I tell you sooner rather than later. You see, those flames have reached the explosives.”

  Voss flinched and looked at the flames.

  The soldiers wavered in their aim.

  The Professor grabbed Finch and Bert and dived behind a row of crates. There was a ripple of gunshots. The bullets crackled by and drove into the planks around them.