The Curse of Deadman's Forest Read online

  Over the many millennia since their birth, the four demigods had grown into powerful sorcerers. And according to everything Ian had read about them, they were a despicable and deadly lot indeed.

  Laodamia’s prophecies had also revealed that in return for their loyalty and servitude, Demogorgon had promised his offspring that once he was free, he would strengthen their powers a hundredfold, and each would receive one quarter of the world to rule over as he or she saw fit. Ian knew that if that happened, so volatile were the sorcerers that no living creature would survive their rule for long.

  And yet, in the midst of all this doom and gloom, there was hope. According to Laodamia, one thing could stand against the combined forces of Magus, Caphiera, Atroposa, and Lachestia; a group of seven orphans, each imbued with a unique and powerful metaphysical gift, could form a united front and defeat the demigods, thus keeping Demogorgon imprisoned for eternity. The trick, Ian knew, was locating all of these special children in time.

  This was the heart of the quest Laodamia had set out for Ian some three thousand years earlier. And the young man of nearly fourteen still found it astonishing to be at the center of such an important mission, which he’d never wanted but could hardly turn down, even though the thought of failure and the resulting consequences terrified him.

  Still, he had found some encouragement in the rhyming prophecies and magical items Laodamia had left for him in her small treasure boxes, which she’d hidden in various places all about the world. He knew that the Oracle had left him one box for each orphan he was supposed to find, but the boxes weren’t together and finding them was nearly as difficult as locating the orphans.

  The first box Ian had discovered quite by accident a year earlier in his own village of Dover. It had contained an aged replica of the handwritten map he’d drawn and kept under his pillow, detailing the many tunnels that ran below his home and Castle Dover. It was an exact copy, with the notable exception that it indicated where a magical portal was located near Castle Dover.

  The first box had also yielded a prophecy from Laodamia, which had revealed their overall mission and suggested that Theo was the first of seven special orphans, or Oracles. Additionally, the prophecy had instructed them to find the second box and the next Oracle by going through the portal.

  It took Ian and his companions a bit to figure out how to use the portal, but eventually they had discovered themselves through it and, to their immense surprise, in the quite foreign land of Morocco. After a harrowing adventure, the group had eventually returned with the second Oracle, a young boy named Jaaved, and two other very special gifts meant to aid him on his quests. Around his neck Ian wore a piece of the Star of Lixus—an enchanted five-point opal that gave its bearer command over any language ever spoken. And in his hand was the rather unassuming sundial made of tarnished bronze. Ian was not fooled by the casual nature of the relic. He knew that it held a magical secret, and when one considered who had sent it and for what purpose, well, it was easy to see why the sundial was likely to be quite extraordinary indeed.

  But he still couldn’t fathom what he was supposed to do with it. He knew it was important. Laodamia’s riddle—also found in the box, next to the dial—told him so. But what magical power it held, he had yet to discover.

  And this frustrated Ian no end, because try as he might to figure it out, the sundial didn’t appear to work. Whenever Ian held it up to a source of light, like the sun or a lamp, no shadow formed across the face of the dial; instead, its surface remained unaffected, which, as far as he knew, defied the laws of physics.

  So it was with a scowl that Ian stared at the small bronze relic in his hand, wondering how to unlock its secrets, when the door at the bottom of the steps opened wide and someone from below called, “Ian? You up there, mate?”

  Ian started. “Yeah, Carl. I’m up here.”

  “Oy, Theo! I found him!” Ian heard his best friend say.

  This was followed by a flurry of footfalls as three children rushed up the stairs. “We were wondering where you’d gone off to,” Carl said as he reached the landing and promptly came over to sit down next to Ian.

  “I told you he’d be up here,” Theo said with a smug smile. Ian grinned back. There was no hiding from Theo.

  “Trying to work the dial again?” asked Jaaved, the boy they’d brought back from Morocco. He’d settled in very nicely at the orphanage.

  “Yeah, but it’s no use.” Ian scowled. “I can’t get it to cast a shadow.”

  Theo crouched down in front of Ian, her eyes alight with mischief. “So leave it and come with us to the shore!”

  Ian couldn’t help smiling at her. “The shore, eh?” He knew she’d had enough of caverns and tunnels on their dark adventure the year before. Lately, she’d preferred the wide-open space of the shore.

  “Yes!” Theo replied. “It’s a lovely day and Madam Dimbleby gave us permission to walk down to the water as long as all our morning chores are done. Jaaved’s even promised to find me a trinket.” Jaaved was very sensitive to minerals and crystals, and since he’d made the keep his home, he’d returned from the shore on more than one occasion with a lost ring or a pocket watch—once even a diamond broach.

  Ian glanced over his shoulder out the window at the beautiful summer day and was strongly tempted to say yes. His eyes moved back to the sundial, however, and he sighed. “I’d like that, Theo, but I think I’ll stick with this for now and try to work out the prophecy.”

  Theo pouted. “I’ve told you over and over, Ian: Laodamia’s riddle won’t produce a single clue until the time is right.”

  “Yes,” Ian agreed, knowing that his remarkably intuitive sister was likely correct. “But still, I rather think I’m close to working parts of her prophecy out. I just need a bit more time to sort it through.”

  Theo sighed and stood up. “Very well,” she said. “Come along, Jaaved. Let’s get to the shore while the weather is still pleasant. I’ve a feeling the wind’s going to pick up later.”

  Ian looked askance at her, surprised she’d been rude enough to leave out mention of Carl. “You’re taking Carl along, too, aren’t you?” he suggested gently.

  Theo was already walking back down the steps. Over her shoulder she said, “No. He’d rather stay here with you. Right, Carl?”

  Ian glanced at his friend, who smiled sheepishly. “She’s right,” Carl said. “Besides, that’ll give me a chance to finish the fortress.” He indicated the oblong square of old desks, chairs, and blankets that made up their pretend castle. They’d been working on it here and there the past few weeks—or rather, Carl had been working on it while Ian attempted to figure out the dial and the prophecy.

  “We’ll see you at dinner,” Jaaved said, following Theo down the steps and leaving the boys alone.

  “You sure you wouldn’t rather go to the shore?” Ian asked Carl.

  “Naw, mate,” Carl said with a wave of his hand. “I’ve seen enough of the sea to last me a lifetime.”

  Ian knew that Carl was referring to his time spent in the port town of Plymouth, where he’d been in a miserable orphanage until the earl discovered him and brought him to Delphi Keep nearly a year before.

  “Right,” said Ian, secretly happy for the company as he got up and moved to the window. “I’ll get back to working this out, then.” When he’d settled himself in the light from the window, he held the dial up, looking for any hint of a shadow.

  Carl joined him by the window and both boys peered down hopefully. “It’s the oddest thing, isn’t it?” Carl asked. “I mean, how is it that a shadow won’t form?”

  Ian stared at the face of the dial in his palm, perplexed.

  “I’ve no idea.”

  “And Laodamia’s not much help with it either, is she?” Carl remarked.

  Ian set the sundial on the windowsill and fished around inside his shirt pocket, then pulled up the translated prophecy from the silver box they’d discovered in Morocco. He studied it a moment before reciting it out
loud, hoping that this time he might find the answers to the riddles it contained.

  “The first of you shall be the last

  As time reminds you of the past

  Wait until the summer’s heat

  Wakes the serpent from its sleep

  It strikes at those within your halls

  While you are all confined by laws

  Venom sends them all to bed

  While two of yours could soon be dead

  To the portal you must go

  As seeds of hope within you grow

  To find the Healer on your own

  You must venture past the bone

  Hold your hand within the ray

  And let the dial point the way

  It will guide you to the curse

  Find the meaning in this verse

  Curse is kept by ancient crone

  Whose past entwines within your own

  Crone can make your quest secure

  But heart of crone is never sure

  Ancient one guards bane of earth

  To whom her ties began at birth

  Magus comes for sister kin

  When fever lights the palest skin

  Find the crone within the trees

  She will bring you to your knees

  Do not argue, pay the price!

  Choice will grip you like a vise

  Put your faith in Theo’s sight

  You will find your sister right

  Once the healer has been named

  Loam of ground no longer tamed

  Unleashing wrath from ancient stone

  Hear the earth below you moan

  Fly away, back to your cave

  Those you leave cannot be saved

  Search for box within the mist

  Past comes forward with a twist

  Do not linger past the time

  When you hear the sound of chime

  Leave more questions to the fog

  Lest you sink within the bog

  Seeker, Seer, Healer true

  Members gather to your crew

  Find the next, there’s four to come

  Each will give one part of sum

  Will you win or will you lose?

  It will lie in who you choose.”

  “Have you noticed that she starts and ends both of her prophecies the same way?” Carl asked, referring to the first line and the last three lines of each of the two prophecies they’d discovered within the treasure boxes. Carl pointed to the text in Ian’s hands. “‘The first of you shall be the last,’ and then this bit, ‘Each will give one part of sum. Will you win or will you lose? It will lie in who you choose.’” Carl studied the scroll over Ian’s shoulder before he added, “I think in the beginning she must be talking about Theo. You know, how she’s the first Oracle? She’s the Seer, don’t you agree?”

  Ian nodded. “Most definitely. But I’m not certain what Laodamia means when she says she’ll be the last too.”

  Carl scratched his head. “Well, we know we’ll need to gather all six Oracles besides Theo before we’re strong enough to face Demogorgon’s crew. And we also know that along with Theo, we have Jaaved—our Seeker—so once we have this Healer person, we’ll only need four more before we’re ready.”

  Ian looked up thoughtfully at Carl. “Exactly,” he agreed.

  Carl squinted at the tight script of their schoolmaster, Thatcher Goodwyn. Their schoolmaster had helped translate the prophecy with their friend, the ancient Greek expert Professor Nutley. “I think the part we should be most concerned about are those lines that say a serpent will enter the keep and attempt to kill two of us.”

  For the past several months, especially since the weather had turned warm again, Ian, Carl, and the keep’s groundskeeper, Landis, had conducted regular inspections of the grounds, looking for any snakes that could present even a remote threat to the keep. But their searches had been futile, as they’d done little more than turn up a harmless garden snake or two. “I’d wager it’s an adder,” said Carl smartly, pointing to the line mentioning the serpent. “They’re quite poisonous, you know.”

  But Ian wasn’t as certain. He knew about adders, but they were reputed to be shy of humans, and he’d never heard of one biting more than one person at a time. He also knew from the book he’d read on native reptiles of Britain that the adder’s venom was typically not poisonous enough to kill a person. The more common reaction was swelling and discomfort around the bite mark.

  Ian had the distinct feeling that Laodamia meant something far more deadly would enter the keep during the height of the summer, but he felt he would not know what that was until they all encountered it.

  That was why he was so intent on discovering how the sundial worked. He believed that if he could simply unlock its secret, he might be able to bypass all that nasty serpent business.

  Still, it appeared that there were far greater dangers in store for him even after the serpent appeared. A terrible curse and an old crone awaited them through the portal. Laodamia’s prophecy suggested that Ian had met this old crone before, but he could not remember ever meeting anyone who fit her description.

  As Ian continued to gaze down at the prophecy, he realized that Carl was still reading over his shoulder, and when Ian caught his friend’s eye, Carl blushed slightly. “Sorry,” he said, stepping back with a sigh. “I’m afraid I can’t make sense of any of it. Serpents, fevers, curses, crones, and this bit: ‘Loam of ground no longer tamed.’ … What does that even mean?”

  Ian had a theory, but he’d not had the courage to voice it until Carl asked. “I think she’s talking about Lachestia,” he whispered.

  Carl stared at him with wide unblinking eyes, and the quiet of the tower room seemed to settle about them eerily. “You think she’s talking about Magus’s sister?” he said in a hushed tone.

  Ian nodded. “She’s the sorceress of earth, remember?”

  “Oh, I remember, mate. I also remember the professor telling us she’s the most dangerous of that awful lot. But I thought he told us she’d been killed three thousand years ago.”

  Professor Nutley had managed to uproot a few legends about the four sorcerers of the terrible underworld god, Demogorgon. Magus and Caphiera they’d already had the great displeasure of meeting, but the other two, Atroposa and Lachestia, remained a bit of a mystery. Atroposa was the sorceress of air, and she appeared to be the least terrible of the four demigod siblings. But Lachestia was said to be the most deadly creature that had ever roamed the ancient world. Legend suggested her capable of causing destruction on a massive scale. But a story that had emerged from a forgotten reference text in the professor’s library suggested that after destroying a series of villages in eastern Europe, Lachestia had vanished into the heart of a cursed forest and was never seen again.

  It was widely accepted that the sorceress had perished, but Ian felt strongly that the legend was wrong. He had a deep nagging suspicion that Lachestia was merely lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to rain down havoc again, and as the newspapers were widely reporting the increasing tensions of Europe these days, Ian was filled with dread that her reemergence would be quite soon indeed.

  “Naw, mate,” Ian said to his friend. “I don’t think Lachestia’s dead. I think she’s just waiting for the right time to show herself.” To prove his point, he quoted the prophecy. “‘Loam of ground no longer tamed, unleashing wrath from ancient stone. Hear the earth below you moan.’ I believe Laodamia’s got to be telling us about Lachestia.”

  “So who’s the crone? And what’s that bit about a curse she holds?” Carl wondered.

  Ian shook his head. “I’ve no idea,” he admitted. “But we should be able to discover her by using this.” Ian lifted the sundial again, holding it up to the sunlight. “If I can figure out how to work this, we should have our answers.”

  Carl sighed and turned to his pretend fortress again. “Good luck,” he said. “I’ll be fiddling with this in the meantime.”

  “Yeah, al
l right,” Ian muttered, squinting at the sundial and willing its shadow to appear.

  After a bit Carl broke the silence. “Ian, have you seen that plank of wood I rescued from Landis’s woodpile? I thought it’d be a good piece to fit over this open section here.”

  Ian glanced up distractedly. “Plank?” he repeated.

  “Yeah,” said Carl. “You remember? I brought it up here last Saturday.”

  Ian did remember Carl struggling with a large section of wood up the stone staircase, but he couldn’t recall where Carl had set it among all the other clutter. “Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve no idea, mate.”

  Carl scrunched up his face and stared at the piles of wood and blankets, scratching his head again. “Where did I put it?” he mused to himself.

  Ian looked down again to continue examining the sundial only to gasp when he realized that the face of the dial had changed dramatically from just a few moments before. The surface was no longer dull and tarnished but reflected brightly as if it’d just received a thorough polishing. And more astonishing, it appeared to be working; there was a distinct triangular shadow on it. “Carl!” he shouted. “Come have a look!”

  His friend hurried over. “What?” he asked, and Ian pointed to the small relic in his hand. Carl gasped too. “Lookit that, it’s got a shadow!”

  “It just happened,” Ian said, his hand trembling slightly with excitement.

  “What’d you do to it?”

  Ian tore his eyes away from the sundial and blinked up at his friend. “Nothing,” he admitted. “I mean, nothing I can think of.”

  “Take it out of the sunlight and see what happens,” Carl suggested.

  Ian hesitated; he didn’t want to risk doing anything that might cause the shadow to disappear, but quickly realized he couldn’t hold it in the sunlight forever. So, taking a leap of faith, he moved it into the shade, and to both boys’ surprise, the shadow remained on the surface of the sundial. “Gaw blimey!” Carl said, his voice filled with delight. “Would you look at that?”

  “It’s working!” Ian replied excitedly while he moved the sundial even deeper into the shade with no effect on its surface. “I don’t know how, but it’s working!”