The Grimjinx Rebellion Page 6

  We held our breath as the radiance from the gaolglobes lit the trees around us. The globes were twice our size. We waited as they floated past and disappeared into the forest behind us.

  “All right then,” I said, shimmying down the tree carefully. “We know to avoid the big floaty glow balls. Let’s spread out and look for Aubrin.”

  We split up, each creeping carefully into the darkness. With every step, I felt more confident that we’d find her. If Callie’s theory was correct, they probably kept Aubrin here where she could easily read and verify the other predictions. I just hoped they’d given her a decent bed.

  An hour flew past as I searched. It seemed like the forest would never end. I carefully scaled the biggest tree I could find so I could get my bearings.

  A faint humming below told me the gaolglobes were patrolling again. I held my breath, waiting for them to pass. The moons above lit the leaves all around me. My eyes passed over the tiny words spelled out in the veins.

  Kleptocracy . . . Aviard Nestvault plunder . . . Sanguibeasts . . .

  I reached out for the nearest leaf and raised it to the light.

  War . . . Sourcefire . . . Par-dwarves . . .

  These trees were ancient. The Creche had been built around a grove of whisperoak trees that had been used to record the prophecies of seers for hundreds and hundreds of years. The forest was one giant history book.

  I grabbed a handful of leaves and read as fast as I could. A lot of it was rubbish. Some leaves held mundane prophecies, discussing what blacksmiths had for breakfast centuries ago. Others described visions of children dressing up in Grundilus Day costumes. They really did chronicle every prophecy, no matter how small.

  I returned to the ground and moved deeper into the forest, scanning leaves all the way. The farther I went, the older the history. The story of the creation of the Sourcefire, a ball of eternal magical energy from which the land was supposedly created. A detailed account of the fall of the par-Goblin Rogue Triumvirate two hundred years ago. Blow-by-blow details of the Satyran Civil War.

  The history of the Uprisings had to be here. Somewhere.

  I thought of how Aubrin had told me to remember Kolo’s last words. It’s like they were both telling me I needed to learn about the Uprisings.

  Then I found the tree I was looking for.

  Mannis Soranna . . . Scions . . . Uprisings . . .

  I nestled with my back to the whisperoak’s trunk and started reading.

  “Jaxter?”

  I sat on a high branch. My eyes ached. I had no idea how long I’d been reading. Glancing up through the glass dome, I spied hints of daybreak turning the sky deep purple.

  We’d been in here all night.

  “Jaxter?” Callie’s whisper broke my concentration. I could just make out her and Maloch at the base of the tree, looking around.

  “Be right down!” I slid gingerly down the trunk and joined them on the ground.

  Callie grinned. “If you’d told me a year ago that I’d see Jaxter Grimjinx climb out of a tree instead of fall out of it—”

  “Listen,” I said. “We have to find Aubrin. Now.”

  My mind raced. I knew now why Kolo had wanted me to learn about the past. I needed to find Aubrin, not just to get her out but to ask her if what I read was true.

  Callie grabbed me by the shoulders, her eyes narrowing. “Jaxter, what’s wrong? You’re white as a snowsloth.”

  My stomach ached. I could feel sweat beading my brow.

  “We’re in terrible danger,” I said.

  “When aren’t we?” Maloch asked.

  I whirled on him. “You don’t get it. I’m not talking about us. I’m not talking about Aubrin. I mean everyone. If we don’t get Aubrin out of here tonight, the Five Provinces will fall.”

  11

  The Great Uprisings

  “There are no secrets. Only knowledge in search of a buyer.”

  —Selldar Grimjinx, omni-rogue

  Somewhere, far away, the gaolglobes hummed as they continued their patrol. It was the only sound.

  Maloch broke the near silence with a nervous chuckle. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “Kolo warned me. I spent months trying to figure it out. And now—”

  Callie held up her hand. “Hold on. Kolo warned you?”

  “Kolo was obsessed with the Uprisings,” I explained. “He told me I should research them. He hinted that something bad was going to happen and understanding the Uprisings would help prevent it.”

  “Kolo was also crazy, remember?” Callie said. “He tried to blow up the Palatinate Palace.”

  “I know,” I said, “but I think he had good reason to be worried. Look, centuries ago, before there even were Five Provinces, a group called the Scions tried to enslave the land.”

  Callie’s brow furrowed. “The Scions? I thought they were just a story. Powerful mages who wanted to enforce magical rule.”

  “They were real,” I said. “They enslaved thousands of sanguibeasts and vessapedes and spiked orvathorns and turned them into an army.”

  “Why animals? Why not just recruit soldiers?” Maloch asked.

  “The Scions created control medallions that make the wearer obedient to a mage’s will. But the medallions don’t work on intelligent creatures. By using animals, the Scions had complete control over them.”

  Callie gasped. “Control medallions? Like the ones we saw Xerrus using at the Onyx Fortress?”

  I nodded. “Maloch and I saw thousands of medallions being made in the Palatinate’s forge. When you and I found Xerrus last year, I don’t think he’d gone rogue. I think the Palatinate had sent him there to figure out how to make the medallions. And those experiments with animals—”

  “So what happened with the Scions?” Maloch interrupted.

  “The Scions enslaved town-state after town-state. They killed all the par-Dwarves, who were immune to magic. They built the Onyx Fortresses to store huge amounts of magical energy for combat. They were just about to take over completely when one man organized an insurrection. Mannis Soranna.”

  “The first High Laird,” Maloch said.

  “They say the war that followed was the bloodiest the land has ever known,” I said. “But in the end, Soranna vanquished the Scions, destroyed the Onyx Fortresses, and created the Five Provinces. He made it illegal to learn about the Uprisings. He thought that if no one knew the history, it could never happen again. But because the stories were outlawed, no one could see history repeating itself.”

  “What does this have to do with anything?” Maloch asked.

  “This is why Kolo was telling me to learn about the Uprisings.” The words rushed breathlessly from my mouth. “‘Volo ser voli. Yesterday is today.’ Things that are happening now happened back then. The Palatinate is trying to take over the Provinces.”

  Maloch’s face went blank. “Look, you know I trust mages as far as I can throw them. But you’re talking about the Palatinate going up against the High Laird and the Provincial Guard. Magic or not, how is that even possible?”

  “They learned from the Scions’ mistakes,” I said. “The Scions made an army out of ordinary creatures. Too easy to kill. So the Palatinate needed a new army. A different army . . .”

  Maloch understood. “The monsters! Bloodreavers and nightmanx and all the ones you saw in the Palatinate Palace.”

  I nodded. “The Palatinate is using creatures of legend, made from pure magic. Not so easily killed. I think that’s what Xerrus was working on. At first he tried combining real creatures to make them stronger. And when that didn’t work . . .”

  “They have an entire army hiding in their palace,” Maloch said. “So, why haven’t they used them? What are they waiting for?”

  “The right time.”

  Callie looked ill as she whispered. This couldn’t have been easy for her to take. She’d dedicated her life to studying magic. Now it seemed like her masters—even her own cousin—weren’t at all who she
thought they were.

  “They’ve been waiting for the right time,” she repeated. “Think about it. The spiderbats were hunted nearly to extinction. Just like the par-Dwarves. Anything that can naturally resist magic has been disappearing. Jaxter, even you’ve noticed that magic-resistant plants have been dying for years. They’ve been eliminating anything that can stop them.”

  “And that’s why they had the Sarosans exiled,” Maloch said. “Anyone who hates magic—and knows how to counter it—is a threat to them.”

  “Remember the relics stolen from the High Laird’s vault?” I asked. “They were forged by a group of mages who worked for Soranna against the Scions. They didn’t believe mages should rule absolutely. Those relics were vital in turning the tide of the war for the High Laird.”

  “How?” Callie asked.

  “The relics had the ability to manipulate the Sourcefire. They used it as a weapon against the Scions. After the war, Soranna created the Palatinate to make sure magic was never abused the way the Scions had done.”

  “Yeah,” Maloch said with a grunt, “that worked really well.”

  “To make sure no mage got too powerful, the first members of the Palatinate enlisted the High Laird to guard the four relics they’d created to manipulate the Sourcefire.”

  “Wait a minute,” Callie said. “You said ‘four.’ Five relics were stolen from the vaults.”

  “The last relic, the Vanguard, wasn’t made to fight the Scions. No one knows for sure where it came from. But it proved to be the ultimate weapon against the Scions. The Vanguard has the ability to destroy magical energy. If there’s any chance of stopping the Palatinate, it means finding that relic.”

  Callie frowned. “We don’t know where it is or what it looks like.”

  Maloch leaned against the tree. “We know Kolo stole it. That’s a start.”

  “We’ve got something better than a start,” I said. “We’ve got an augur. If we can find her.”

  “We’ve looked everywhere,” Maloch said. “Aubrin’s not in the Athenaeum.”

  “Okay,” I said, “that means there’s only one other place she can be.”

  Callie nodded grimly. “The Black Door.”

  I pointed to the dome and the faint sunlight. “The others will be awake soon. We can’t risk them finding us near the Black Door. We need another diversion.”

  “Please,” Maloch said, “no more exploding cakes.”

  “No time,” I said, rummaging through my pouches. “Cal, you said you could beat the magical defenses here. Think you can take on a gaolglobe?”

  I mixed ground paggis root and jellyweed in my palm. The harder I stirred with my finger, the more the concoction started to crackle and fizz. Callie’s eyes widened as she realized what I was going to do. “Do I have a choice?”

  “You two keep them busy,” I said, “and I’ll get Aubrin. Meet me outside the servants’ barracks. And try not to get caught.”

  I threw the concoction in the air. It sparkled and hissed like fireworks, lighting up the dark and echoing off the trees. Far away, the gaolglobes responded, turning from blue to red. The pulsing spheres shot through the forest, headed right for us, howling loudly enough to wake the entire Creche. Soon, everyone—the servants, Gobek—would be here.

  “This is the part where we run,” I said.

  The three of us shot through the forest, pushing aside branches and tall grass. The spheres had grown brighter, lighting our path with deep crimson. We split up, zigzagging to lose the spheres as they drew nearer.

  I lost sight of the others and charged blindly ahead. It was purely by accident that I came across the clearing where we’d first entered. There, just ahead, was the exit. If I could get there before Mavra and the others showed up . . .

  Holding tight to Tree Bag, I ran. I glanced over my shoulder, looking for the sphere. Nothing. I was going to make it. And just as I thought I was safe, it dropped from above.

  Pop!

  Crimson light exploded around me. The gaolglobe vanished and I was left in darkness. There was no way the herbs in my pouches were strong enough to counteract it. So why—?

  I didn’t have time to worry about it. I slipped through the door, back into the Creche.

  “It’s coming from the Athenaeum!” Mavra’s shrill voice filled the corridor. I turned and ran in the opposite direction, disappearing around a corner just as the servants arrived on the scene. The Aviard girl pushed her way to the Athenaeum door, ordering everyone to back off until Gobek arrived.

  Under my breath, I wished Callie and Maloch good luck, then I tiptoed down the hall and made my way to the Black Door.

  12

  Beyond the Black Door

  “A liar with a poor memory leaves a trail of unfortunate truths.”

  —Ancient par-Goblin proverb

  For as ominous as everyone had made it out to be, the Black Door wasn’t so scary up close. It didn’t even have a lock. I guess it didn’t really need one. Who wanted to go in there, what with all the unholy screaming?

  I pressed my ear to the cold, black wood. No howling. No sounds of torture. This was getting better by the minute. Checking to make sure my pouches were at the ready, I ducked inside.

  Tiny orbs of green-blue fire floated above, dimly lighting a slender passage. I crept along the wall, hugging the shadows. Even behind the door, I could hear the wailing of the gaolglobes. Good. That meant they hadn’t caught Maloch and Callie.

  I walked until the narrow hall opened up into an oval room filled with lit candles. The smell of animal fur and sweat nearly knocked me over. Cages filled with mythical monsters—very much like the ones I’d seen in the Palatinate Palace months ago—sat stacked atop one another, creating a small maze across the room.

  Hunched over, I moved among the cages. The creatures snarled and cooed menacingly as I passed. Each wore a control medallion that sparkled with magic.

  “Is please to be eating, Bright Eyes.”

  Ahead, Gobek’s pained voice rose above the sounds of the creatures. Kneeling, I squinted and looked around until I spotted Gobek near the center of the room. He was holding a tray of food, standing in front of a cage smaller than the rest.

  “Is good food,” he said. “Is healthy food. Is not healthy not to eat.”

  No response.

  “Is upset. Gobek is knowing how to fix that. Is watching Gobek, Bright Eyes.”

  Gobek set the tray down. His greasy flesh folded in on itself and, a moment later, he was a dweek—a giant, furry worm with a single eye at one end. The dweek wrapped itself into a coil, like a spring, and began bouncing back and forth between the ceiling and floor.

  That did the trick. I heard a soft giggle. A familiar giggle. I moved closer and finally saw Aubrin sitting in the cage. She leaned against the bars as the dweek changed back into Gobek.

  “Is smiling,” Gobek said, his teeth clenched. He moaned.

  Aubrin reached out to him. “You’re hurt.”

  Gobek waved his hand. “Is always hurting. Is not to worry, Bright Eyes.”

  “Please let me out, Gobek,” Aubrin whispered, flashing him her smile weapon.

  Gobek looked unsure. “Is difficult, Bright Eyes. Is up to Overlord.”

  Overlord?

  “Gobek!”

  A chill tickled my back. The voice had come from the far side of the room. I curled up into a ball, keeping one eye on Gobek. A tall figure stepped into the shadows and towered over the Creche’s caretaker.

  “The gaolglobes are howling,” the Overlord said. “Find out why.”

  I knew the voice. But I couldn’t place where I’d heard it before. I squinted at the tall silhouette in the darkness, trying to get a better look.

  Gobek sighed. “Is always howling. Is set off by tiny things. Gobek is thinking gaolglobe magic is not very good.”

  The Overlord roared. “Go!”

  Gobek turned his large, sorrowful eyes toward Aubrin. “Is having learned her lesson, Overlord. Is maybe time to return her
to other seers, yes?”

  “She should have thought of that before she tried to start a rebellion with the other seers.”

  I had to stifle a laugh. So that’s why Aubrin had been removed from the seer dormitory. She’d done what any Grimjinx would have done: rallied the oppressed and tried to revolt. I’d never been more proud of my sister.

  “And she still refuses to share her prophecies with us,” the Overlord continued. The silhouette shifted, stepping forward into the light to reveal a man. The candlelight reflected off his bald pate and a twisted face I’d tried very hard to forget over the last year.

  It was Xerrus.

  I could still picture his sanctum at the top of the Onyx Fortress in Splitscar Gorge. Bubbling cauldrons, balanx skeletons, and cages filled with creatures he’d fused together using forbidden magic. The fact he was here meant I’d been right. He’d been working for the Palatinate the whole time.

  Xerrus walked slowly around Aubrin’s cage. “But I think I’ve found a solution. One that will make her much more cooperative. You see, child, I once tried melding two creatures into one. It proved more difficult than I first thought. Then I turned my attention to making creatures out of pure magical energy. Gobek was my first real success. He made me realize that anything is possible.”

  Xerrus dropped to one knee quickly and pressed his face up against the bars. Aubrin didn’t even blink. “And I’ve been thinking: maybe I gave up on my initial experiments too quickly. Maybe there is still a benefit in fusing two creatures. How docile you’d be if I combined you with, say, a hedgewump.”

  Gobek’s slimy hands shook. “Is not necessary, Overlord. Gobek is knowing that Bright Eyes will be good girl.”

  Xerrus lashed out, striking Gobek across the face. “I told you to go to the Athenaeum. Leave the augur to me.”

  My hands balled into fists at my sides. I’d seen the results of Xerrus’s experiments. The combined creatures were in constant misery. I couldn’t let him touch Aubrin.

  Xerrus stalked through a door on the far side of the room. I suddenly understood the real reason no adults were allowed in the Creche. It wasn’t because adults made the seers nervous. It was because they’d be more likely to resist Xerrus. The servants were kids and easy to intimidate.