CHAPTER 17
asey sank back against buttery black leather and closed his
eyes as the Bugatti turned off Rocky Road and flew down Simoleon
Street. The silent and efficient Wolfe expertly maneuvered the
speeding limousine around the curves. Enoch Bloodwyn, riding
shotgun, gazed languidly out of the window.
“And to think, I feared that Vermont might be dull,” Bloodwyn said coolly. He adjusted the platinum link in his immaculate French cuff. “Apparently, I needn’t have worried. May I surmise that the rampaging creature back there was the cause of the fire at the shoe factory, young man? I am quite certain that you know more than you are saying.”
“I’ve been doing some research,” said Casey cautiously. He was aware of his father’s past skirmishes with Enoch Bloodwyn, and he didn’t trust the man. Still, Bloodwyn was an expert on antiquities, and he knew the kind of menace they were facing. “I think that thing is Malakaan, a demigod that appears in Kokinoke legends. It came after us before, but we don’t know why.”
Pike stirred and blinked a few times. He pulled himself up in the seat with a groan and wiggled his sore jaw back and forth. “What…hey, Red… Where are we?”
“Doctor Bloodwyn here is an archeologist and a sort of colleague of my Dad’s. He seems to have kidnapped us.”
“Mr. Wilde, certainly you understand a little jest. Wolfe can deliver you to any destination you request,” said Bloodwyn, with an elegantly dismissive wave of his hand. “I am pleased that my business at that dismal roadhouse allowed me to take you children out of harm’s way, but please don’t feel the need to smother me with adolescent gratitude.”
Casey rolled his eyes. Gratitude towards Enoch Bloodwyn was something he was highly unlikely to be burdened with.
“What happened back there? Did my old man…” Pike’s voice trailed off in a hoarse whisper.
“I don’t know,” said Casey. “I saw him climb back into the bar, but I couldn’t see what happened after that.”
Pike sized up the imperious archaeologist and his brutish chauffeur. He sat silently back, arms crossed, dissecting them with his frost blue stare until he seemed to reach some kind of private conclusion.
“Hey, Bloodwyn, just what business did you have with my old man?”
Enoch Bloodwyn turned in his seat, meeting Pike’s hostile glare with barbed indifference.
“Your father was doing a little advance guard work for me, young man. He was supplying me with information regarding the antiquities in Oliver Wilde’s care,” said Bloodwyn. “He would have provided me with Victor’s journal as well. Unfortunately, young Wilde Junior here stole the journal before Mr. Pike was able to obtain it.”
“I didn’t,” sputtered Casey. “I mean I…don’t have it.”
“Not with you perhaps. But you do have it, my boy. Humphrey Pike was at the school lurking in the proverbial shadows, and he saw you slip the journal into your pocket.” Bloodwyn stifled a yawn. “I must say you seem to have more on the ball than your dear papa. He had no idea how important that little book may prove to be.”
Casey sneered. “In other words, you tried to bribe the security guard to steal it for you.”
“A rather blunt accusation, Mr. Wilde,” said Bloodwyn. He paused, full lips curved in a devilish smile. When he continued, his voice had a satirical edge. “And, all things considered, a rather surprising one.”
Pike turned away and stared out the window. “So…what’s the plan?”
“There’s a link between those stones on the riverbank, Doctor Wilberforce’s research into the Kokinoke tribe, and those monsters,” said Casey. “We don’t have any clues except the artifacts in my dad’s lab at the college. We might find something there that will help.”
Enoch Bloodwyn nodded to Wolfe and soon the powerful limousine was pulling up in front of Bridewell Hall.
With its turrets and leering gargoyles, the building was an imposing sight in the moonlight. Pike walked toward the entrance with Carlisle securely clasped in his arms. If the cat even looked sideways into any of the shadows on the campus grounds, he planned to take off as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Wolfe who remained motionless in the driver’s seat of the Bugatti, staring straight ahead, both hands on the wheel.
“Hey, doc. Do you really think it’s a good idea to leave that gorilla sitting out here in the car by himself?”
“I’m not absolutely certain right now what would qualify as a good idea, young man,” said Bloodwyn without looking back. “Or if we can even get into this building, and I’d rather have the car ready to go at a moment’s notice.”
Pike stopped on the wide granite steps of Bridewell Hall and looked around. Nothing moved in the murk behind the heavy glass doors. He pulled on the brass handle and the door swung open.
“Not locked,” he said. “How come I’m not surprised? Welcome to Castle Frankenstein.”
They stepped inside the vast dark lobby and trudged up the stairs to the archaeology lab. Bloodwyn stepped inside and ran his hand over the wall searching for a switch. Light flooded the room and glinted on the stones encrusting the Kokinoke bow.
Casey walked along the counter studying the artifacts. It was obvious now that the brutal mask represented Malakaan and the twisted howling dolls were his living shadows. The bow seemed to feature prominently in the Kokinoke legends. Too bad there were no Kokinoke braves around to use it, and no arrows for them to use, even if one should show up.
Pike walked across to a window and caught sight of the tail lights of the Bugatti as it drove away from the school. “Hey! That big coward just drove off in your car!”
“Wolfe is many things, but coward is definitely not on the list,” said Bloodwyn, his voice giving away nothing. “I sent him on an errand. No need for you to worry about it.”
“Oh great, we’ve got one car and you send the driver out to pick up pizza.”
“Not pizza. But Wolfe does need to pick up something important.”
“Wolf, huh?” snorted Pike. “Just like the animal?”
Bloodwyn’s humorless smile lowered the temperature in the room.
“Spelled differently,” he said. “But other than that, very much like the animal.”
Casey noticed something strange. Either it was a trick of the light or the bow had changed since the last time he’d seen it. The cracks that scored its surface didn’t seem nearly as deep as they had when it was first pulled from the crate. He was counting on Victor Wilberforce’s notes to yield some clues. He crossed to his father’s desk and plucked the scarred leather journal from between the other books.
“Oh look, here’s the journal from the dig in New Mexico,” Casey said chirpily. “Apparently it wasn’t lost after all.”
“Aren’t you clever to have found it,” murmured Bloodwyn. He slithered up to the island with his hands in his pockets. His handsome features betrayed no sign of annoyance. “It’s almost as though you knew exactly where it was all along.”
Casey turned away, certain his cheeks must be burning. He leafed through the book until he came to a page covered with sketches of buffalos, wolves, and antelopes.
“Here he mentions the Kokinoke belief in a terrible force that goes against the natural order of things. Judging by the way Penny and all of those other animals have been reacting, it’s pretty clear that Malakaan is exactly that. I think Victor Wilberforce saw more than pictures on cave walls. We sure have.”
“When the floor in the tavern caved in, those shadows rushed to the aid of Malakaan,” Bloodwyn said. “According to many ancient texts, there are creatures held captive in a dim world between the living and the dead. In Kokinoke legends, they are called the Moquidin. Although the Moquidin see and hear what is happening, they are controlled by the mind of another being.”
“That would be Malakaan in control. So those shadows were…they are people. I thought so. Malakaan got them somehow,” said Casey. “I’ve been wondering why those specific people were picked. Malakaan snatched a professor who worked near my dad. It got one of our neighbors and somebody from right inside of our house. His victims are getting closer and closer to me. I think he was trying to target me and wound up snatching people who were nearby.”
He picked up a yellow pencil and began twisting it between his fingers. His fist tightened and the pencil snapped in half.
“We are going to help them. That monster isn’t going to win.”
Carlisle sat on the work table, licking a dusty paw and graciously allowing Pike the privilege of caressing his black fur. The long tail twitched once. Cat and boy turned simultaneously toward the doorway which was now filled with the looming uniformed Wolfe.
Bloodwyn followed their glance.
“Success?”
Wolfe nodded as he moved into the room and held the door open for a pale faced and disheveled Margo Wilde. She raced across the room and wrapped Casey tightly in her arms.
“Oh, Casey,” she sobbed. “You’re safe. You’re here, and you’re safe.”
Casey scrunched up his forehead. Something definitely wasn’t right. A terrible possibility materialized.
“Mom,” he whispered. “Where’s Pearl?”
Tears streamed down Margo’s face and she leaned against the island for support. Oliver rushed forward. As he watched his father slide over a grey metal stool and help Margo sit down, Casey realized that he already knew the answer to his question.
“Hey,” whispered Pike. He leaned closer to Enoch Bloodwyn. “What’s happening?”
“It appears that the creatures have ensnared another victim,” said Bloodwyn. “I believe they have your friend’s young sister, Pearl.”
Pike felt suddenly cold. “I don’t know what to say, Red. I’m really sorry.”
“Casey, the three of us are safe for the moment anyway, and we are going to stay that way. And we are going to find Pearl,” said Margo wiping her eyes. She nodded towards Pike. “And who is this?”
“Pike is a friend,” said Casey. “A friend who’s been helping me.”
Oliver looked appraisingly at the dark haired boy. “Were you with Casey at the shoe factory when those explosions occurred?”
Pike took a step back. When he spoke, his voice was wary.
“I thought you were a college teacher. You sound more like a cop.”
“I’m a cop.”
Leaning casually against the frame of the door was Detective Mitch Kestrel. Something in his solid, rumpled appearance and confident manner suggested that he had just taken control of the situation. Kestrel offered a polite nod to the Wilde family, and then looked coolly at Bloodwyn. He jerked his head in Wolfe’s direction.
“I saw big boy there load the Wildes into that fancy car of yours. I thought perhaps it would be worth tagging along.”
Bloodwyn gave one of his characteristically condescending sniffs.
“Our young Mr. Pike’s father is a security guard at the university. We last saw the elder Pike at the tavern in town, where that thing…those things, put in an appearance. The man acted courageously, making the children’s safety possible.”
“And perhaps your safety as well, Doctor Bloodwyn. This has been quite a night,” said Kestrel. He strolled over to the work table, picked up the mask of Malakaan, and examined it thoughtfully. “I couldn’t believe it…any of it, until I saw that thing ripping through the theatre. By the time I was able to get down there, Holstein was just…gone. I found his hat lying on the floor. It’s pretty clear that he was taken too.”
Kestrel shook his head, paused for a moment, and then looked up at Casey. “Like your neighbors and your sister. I’m really sorry about this, son. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Pike stood quietly, eyes distant and head cocked as if listening to something far away. Carlisle stood up suddenly, ears back. The expressive tail twitched again. Without warning, the cat rocketed off the oak island and out the door.
“Time to go, Red.”
“I am beginning to understand this.” Casey, glowering, flipped through the pages of the Wilberforce journal. “ I think I can find Pearl and stop that monster. But I don’t know how to do it without that white rock.”
“The rock you were holding onto at the factory? You dropped it when that fireball exploded,” said Pike. He fished around in his jacket, pulled out the howlite and handed it over. “I figured you’d want it back.”
Feeling a little more confident, Casey shoved the stone wedge into the pocket of his black jeans.
“All right, then. The next move is mine. We need to go back to that spiral.”
Mitch Kestrel considered the situation for a moment and then clapped Casey on the shoulder.
“Kid, I trust your judgement. You seem to know more about the situation than anybody else. Doctor Bloodwyn, Mr. and Mrs. Wilde can ride with you. I’ll take the boys in my Jeep.”
Casey started for the door, then paused, looked back into the room, and pointed to the bow lying on the oak island. “Dad, I think we need to take that with us too. There’s a sketch of that bow in the journal. I think it might be important.”
Oliver contemplated the ancient Kokinoke bow and adjusted his glasses. Were the cracks less deep? Did the wood seem less brittle than he remembered? He shook his head. It was either the glare of the overhead lights, or he was simply imagining things.
“The bow?” asked Oliver, somewhat bewildered. “It’s an ancient artifact, Casey, not a workable weapon. There aren’t even any arrows…”
Margo didn’t hesitate. She snatched up the bow from the work island. Without saying a word, she pivoted, stalked across the room, and headed out the door. Casey followed close behind her with Pike at his side.
“After you, professor,” said Bloodwyn, stepping aside with false courtesy.
Snorting with disgust, Oliver grabbed the buckskin bag that the bow had arrived in, and stormed past him.
The boys, the Wildes, and Mitch Kestrel zipped down the stairs. Wolfe was already in the lobby, holding open the big glass door. Following at a less hurried pace was Enoch Bloodwyn, adjusting his scarf and buttoning his coat. He paused on the landing, cocking his head to listen as a familiar singsong wail began drifting out of the archaeology lab. Bloodwyn picked up speed, passing through the glass doors and sprinting across the parking lot as the cascading moans echoing through the vast granite lobby grew deafening.
Kestrel’s battered Jeep flew out of the parking lot. Casey sat in the front seat, one arm wrapped around the cat and the other stretched out to grip the dash. Pike was perched behind him in a narrow storage compartment, arms wrapped tightly around the roll bar.
The sleek Bugatti sailed away from Arcayne College in pursuit of Kestrel’s Jeep en route to the riverbank. Enoch Bloodwyn turned to look over his shoulder just in time to see a flash of blistering green light and a shower of glass as the Bridewell Hall archaeology lab exploded.