Conrad Edison and the Broken Relic (Overworld Arcanum Book 3) Read online

  The few moments I spent thumbing through the book were probably foolishly spent, especially if people were looking for me. On the other hand, I needed to know more about my captors. I replaced the heavy book in its case with a much better idea.

  "Kidnapped by prophets," I muttered. Why would they do such a thing?

  It really didn't matter. All I needed to know was that they'd callously knocked me from my broom and whisked me away to their dungeon. Since the other cells were empty, it seemed they hadn't taken Ambria as well, or at least I kept telling myself that. I still didn't know whose blood stained my clothes and I dreaded finding out.

  Turning from the glass case, I spotted a bundle of items on a small table on the opposite side of the desk. My heart leapt at the sight of my broom, wand, and arcphone. I grabbed the most valuable item—the chain with a green pebble attached. Cora had left me the stone and even if it were nothing more than a rock, it would still be my most prized possession in the world. I turned on the phone. "Phone, has anyone else used you today besides me?"

  "Two people attempted unauthorized access," it replied. "Both were denied."

  I didn't know why, but that made me feel less violated than before. Relief soothed my nerves when I tested the broom and it worked. Neither wall nor moat mattered now. All I had to do was leap out a window and fly away. I stuffed the books about me and my family into the saddlebag on the side of my broom so I'd no longer have to carry them across my shoulder.

  The windows in the study were locked and Plinth's wand did nothing when I pressed it to them. I tested those in the bedroom with the same results. The sitting room had a large balcony with a magnificent view of a wide green lawn between rows of neatly sculpted trees. The colors red and blue wound through the rose gardens and a brown cobblestone path ran inconspicuously to the tall wall a hundred yards away.

  More conspicuous were the people in black robes combing the bushes and rushing toward the end of the road where a thick iron gate guarded the only way in or out of this estate. It was all so tantalizingly close, but the balcony doors didn't respond to Plinth's wand. It appeared the only lax security measure on this floor was the dumbwaiter.

  Rather dumb of them, I thought.

  The pun failed to bring a smile to my face. I opened the final door in the sitting room and found a stairwell. Voices echoed from below. I quickly shut the door and backed away. Sweat beaded on my forehead. Before long, I'd be cornered, with no way out.

  Since the windows wouldn't open, I had only a few remaining choices. I went into the study, picked up a heavy marble bust of a serious-looking bearded man and threw it at the glass door to the balcony in the sitting room. His head left a divot in the glass. I picked up the bust and smashed it again and again into the glass. It was obviously charmed not to break, because after giving it everything I had, a spider web of cracks spread across the surface, but the window refused to yield.

  Heart thudding, sweat dripping down my face, I dropped the bust and groaned. Leaden arms hanging by my sides, I leaned my forehead on the stubborn glass. "Why won't you break?"

  Glass shattered, clattering to the floor like a pile of porcelain plates. I fell forward, catching myself inches before impaling my throat on a shard of glass. An alarm wailed and shouts sounded from outside. The people searching the lawn spun around, eyes locking onto the balcony and me.

  Freedom!

  I hopped on my broom saddle and darted out the window before veering sharp left toward the nearest section of wall. People in black robes ran below, crying out for me to stop.

  When I soared over the wall, I quickly realized we weren't in Queens Gate. Forest stretched out as far as the eye could see. I hooked right and paralleled the wall, keeping low to avoid prying eyes from the inside, and remaining in the clearing between it and the forest to avoid the trees.

  The driveway inside the castle grounds had to lead to a road. That was my path back to civilization. I smacked my forehead as I remembered the greatest tool in my arsenal. "Phone, show me where I am."

  "Location unavailable," the phone replied. "Would you like me to resolve the problem?"

  "Yes!" I shouted back. "Resolve it quickly."

  It went silent for a moment. "There appears to be a jamming spell preventing a signal to the aethernet. Please disable the jamming spell so I can reestablish a connection."

  Unsurprisingly, my hosts wanted to remain off the radar. I could fly in any direction and eventually find civilization, but the road seemed my best bet. Wind whistled in my ears as my broom hit top speed. The gray wall blurred to my right, green and brown foliage to my left. Three figures zipped over the wall ahead, each of them on brooms. I looked back and spotted another group flying in pursuit.

  Forget the road, it was time to take to the forest.

  Chapter 4

  I pressed hard on the left stirrup and the broom tilted sideways while I dove lower to get beneath the tree branches. My pursuers outnumbered me, but now I was in my element. My mother had been an expert broom racer. Thanks to her soul fragment and inherited talent, I was no slouch myself.

  Spells sang through the trees. Branches smoked, broke, and fell. Bark exploded from the trunks of hardwoods. Every shot flew wide. Either the people chasing me were poor shots, or they weren't trying to hit me. I dodged between tree trunks and the occasional broken branch. My pursuers stayed above the tree tops and easily gained on me since they had no obstacles.

  I should have stayed high.

  A section of thick canopy shaded the forest floor from sunlight and blocked the view from above. I leaned hard left and turned sharply. My bare shoulder scraped against the tree. Blood welled in the scrape but the wind quickly dried it. For several long seconds I didn't see or hear the shouts of the pursuers.

  Climbing higher, I poked my head out of the treetops and saw them circling the area where I'd turned. My gambit had worked. I went back below and sped away, gaining as much distance as possible before they spotted me.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. I leaned back so I could slide it out. Aethernet access flashed on the screen. I flicked to the map and breathed with relief when I saw that I was nearly forty miles southwest of London. Not long after, I saw houses nestled among the trees, stone walls, and narrow roads.

  I stopped at a small country house of gray stone. A clothesline provided me a damp shirt designed for a man many times my size, but it was better than flying around half naked with dried blood on my chest. I tucked it in and flew back into the trees, skirting civilization, but before long, I'd reached a point where flying my broom would expose me to noms—the normals.

  Since I didn't wish to get in trouble with the Overworld authorities, I settled down next to a bubbling stream and waited for the afternoon to fade into dark. Leaning against a tree, I closed my eyes and tried to rest, but every crack of a twig, or the susurrus of wind in the leaves jolted me awake with a mild panic attack.

  My kidnappers were out there somewhere, possibly still looking for me. I had to be careful. Ambria didn't have an arcphone, and Max's older brothers had recently broken his—their cruel idea of a joke. I rang his number just in case, but it went straight to voicemail. Galfandor didn't have a phone either since Arcane University frowned on such arcnology, as Seer Plinth called it.

  That left me very much alone until I made it back to the secret entrance to Queens Gate in London—unless…I pondered the other contact on my phone. Esma Emoora had taken me aside and taught me magic outside of class. She'd helped me fight Naeve, the Glimmer Queen. Perhaps she could help me out of this tight spot.

  I dialed the number. "Hello, Professor Emoora—"

  "Conrad?" Her voice cracked with surprise.

  "Yes, Professor." I swallowed nervously. "I need your help."

  "Tell me what's the matter." She sounded in control again. Esma was quick to adjust to new situations. Then again, she was the Magical Defense teacher.

  "I was kidnapped. I escaped, but I'm outside of London and waiting for dark to
fall before I fly back." I checked the map. "I was held in a rather large castle in an estate southeast of the city, but they jammed my aethernet connection so I couldn't get a precise lock on the location."

  "Conrad," Esma said in a disbelieving tone. "You tell me you were kidnapped, yet you sound as if you've just come from a leisurely stroll."

  I hadn't really thought about it. I'd been frightened to death at first, but now that I'd escaped, I just wanted to go home. "I'm sorry. I could sound more frightened if that would help."

  She laughed. "I suppose you've been through worse, child. Some pass through the crucible, forever scarred and burned to the core. Others are forged into new beings. Perhaps you are the latter."

  "I just want to go home," I told her, allowing that scared part of me to peek through.

  "I can be there well before dark," Esma said. "I'll leave right away and we can fly back together, okay?"

  My insides melted with relief. "Oh, thank you, Esma—I mean Professor."

  "Esma is fine when you're not in class, Conrad." She had a smile in her voice. "Being called Professor all the time makes me feel old." She laughed. "I'll see you soon."

  I gave her my precise coordinates and put the phone back into my pocket. With Esma on the way, I felt safer already. I picked up a flat stone and skipped it across the water. It hit the muddy bank on the other side after two skips. I amused myself this way for a while, then checked the time on the phone.

  "Conrad Edison."

  I leapt and spun, dropping my phone in the process.

  Two men in tight black robes stood feet away, wands drawn and pointed at me.

  "Who are you?" I said. "What do you want?"

  The man on the right shook his head.

  I slowly moved my hand toward my wand, but someone came up behind me and gripped my arm. He snatched Plinth's wand from my grasp and took the staff from my pocket. "None of that, now," he said.

  How had they found me? I'd lost them miles ago.

  Four more men whisked silently across the stream on brooms and dismounted. Instead of robes, one wore a black cloak over matching shirt and pants. He handed his broom to one of the others and stepped forward.

  "You're a very resourceful boy, Conrad." His voice had no malice, despite the stern look creasing his brow. "Unfortunately, you must come back with us."

  I backed up a step, fear sickening me. "No!"

  "I cannot give you a choice in the matter, boy." He nodded at the two men aiming their wands at me and they moved toward me.

  "What do you want from me?" I took another step back, my foot at the edge of the stream. "Just tell me!"

  "It's very simple," he said. "We need your soul."

  One of the men flicked his wand. A jet of green smoke flew at my face. I stumbled back into the stream and splashed into the shallow water. The moment I scrambled to my feet, the same man reached the bank and hit me full in the face with the spell. My limbs went weak and my eyelids grew heavy. I fell backward with a splash.

  Water washed over my face and then I bobbed back to the surface, legs bent at an awkward angle, my back pressing uncomfortably against a stone in the cold water. The two men bent down to retrieve me. There was a shout. Something blurred past. The men cried out and splashed face-first into the water next to me.

  Flashes of light and explosions rocked a tree. Dirt flew into the air and gravel splashed all around me. More shouts, and then men sped away on brooms. I could barely move a muscle, but I tried anyway. I slid off the stone propping up my back and water rushed over my face. I choked and sputtered, but I didn't have the strength to pull myself up. I was going to drown and there was nothing I could do about it.

  A silhouette stood at the stream bank, features blurred by the water over my eyes. For what seemed an eternity, the person seemed to watch me, though I couldn't tell if they were looking at me or if they were more worried about another threat.

  My lungs burned and my body begged for me to breathe. I couldn't hold my breath a moment longer. The figure reached down and pulled me from the water. I sucked in a lungful of air. Esma smiled, not a lock of her curly blond hair out of place after presumably beating back my attackers.

  "There's not much on your bones but skin," she said, "but you're heavier than you look." She waved her wand over my chest then tapped it to my ribs. A flush of heat spread through me and suddenly my limbs were once again mine.

  I climbed to my knees and saw the two men lying face down in the water. "Are they dead?" With much effort, I flipped them on their backs.

  "Not quite drowned," Esma said matter-of-factly, "but nearly."

  "We can't let them die." I wished I could be callous enough to leave them to their fates, but I had enough blood on my hands. "Is there something you can do to revive them?"

  Esma raised an eyebrow. "Really? After they tried to kill you?"

  They said they wanted my soul, but hadn't tried to kill me. I decided not to voice that argument and chose another. "I want to question them."

  "Well, just one will suffice for that," she said. "Choose."

  Esma was short and adorable for a grown woman, but her callous nature frightened me sometimes. "Please save them both," I said. "One might not be willing to answer."

  She shrugged. "As you wish." With a flick of her wand, large hands of energy appeared and pounded their chests. Water spewed from their mouths. Esma flicked her wand again and again, the hand pressing rhythmically against their chests as she gently sang, "Staying alive, staying alive. Ah, ah, ah, ah, staying alive."

  The men drew breath, gasping and floundering like fish on the shore and Esma smiled. "I believe we'll have answers soon."

  "Over here!" someone shouted. "I swear I saw explosions from the creek!"

  We looked downstream and saw a group of locals running our way.

  "Oh, bother." Esma took the wands from the recovering men, then found their broomsticks nearby. She incinerated them with a quick spell. "Questioning will have to wait."

  I grabbed my belongings and got on my broom. Esma spun her wand in a circle and the air around us blurred. "Are we invisible?" I asked.

  She laughed. "No, merely cloaked. They will see a ripple in the air unless they get within a few feet." She pointed up. "Let us away, Conrad."

  I followed her lead and we soared high into the overcast sky and the clouds.

  When we reached cruising altitude, she folded her arms and looked at me expectantly. "I would love to hear the details of today's tribulations, child."

  I reached across the gap between our brooms and touched her hand. "Thank you."

  Her rosy cheeks went a bit pale. "Of course." She withdrew her hand and patted mine almost apologetically.

  I told her the story from beginning to end, though I didn't mention the dossiers about me and my family. That information felt too personal to divulge to her. I did tell her about the Broken Relic in the hope that she knew more about Jura.

  "Why would you be interested in the relics of Jura?" she said. "Did your kidnappers have any of them?"

  I shrugged. "I don't think so, but they sound powerful."

  "So I've heard." Esma pursed her lips. "It is said some of those relics could break the world."

  "Vic and Della didn't say anything either."

  She laughed. "Vic and Della?"

  "That's what I call their soul fragments." I sighed. "I can't call them Mum and Dad, now can I?"

  "What's it like sharing your mind with them?"

  I considered it for a moment. "They don't speak often, and when they do, it's usually just to be mean."

  "But you have gleaned valuable knowledge from them?" Esma watched me intently.

  "My mother was an expert broom racer," I said. "I think I got that from her."

  "And your father?"

  I shrugged. "He's good with technology and demons, but I'm not really interested in either."

  Esma flinched at the mention of demons and her eyes grew haunted. She seemed to withdraw into herself before b
reaking free with a shudder. "I suppose you enjoy broom racing?"

  I felt a grin stretch my lips. "I love it." I thought back to what I'd read about Delectra and heavy sadness weighed down my heart. "I wish my mom was a good person. I think if she'd never met Victus she'd be really fun to know."

  Esma stared at me with deeply troubled eyes. "You shouldn't think that way, boy. Delectra would kill you in an instant. She and Victus desperately want their soul fragments back. Without them, they are weakened."

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I know, but it would be nice to have a family again."

  "Again?" Her eyebrows arched.

  "Cora was the closest thing I had to a mother."

  Esma's jaw tightened. "You're only punishing yourself, Conrad." She pressed a hand to her chest. "Find your strength here and never submit to fantasy or whim. They will be your undoing."

  We flew in silence for a while. I considered Esma's words, but also wondered what had happened to her to make her so skeptical. She was a lovely woman, full of smiles and vigor on the outside, but her warm friendly surface guarded a core of ice. Esma just wants what's best for me. She was my teacher and my friend.

  Galfandor, on the other hand, had a lot to answer for. He'd never told me he was my mother's mentor, or about how he thought she could be saved. I didn't know if confronting him would be productive. What I needed was more answers about the Broken Relic. Galfandor might tell me, but he was just as likely to remain elusive with his answers.

  I didn't understand why the man was so helpful at times, and so secretive at others.

  "You're not thinking of looking for the Broken Relic, are you?" Esma's question caught me off guard.

  I hadn't told her it could cure Delectra, but I had mentioned it in the hopes that she knew more about the relics of Jura. I fumbled the answer. "Uh, no, of course not."

  She nodded. "Good."

  It was dark when we landed in a London alley, protected by the cloak spell. Esma lifted it and we walked into the tunnel next to the Queensway Subway entrance. Esma activated the hidden levitator and we dropped with gut-wrenching speed into the parking deck far beneath the earth. We stepped into the massive cavern, the Queens Gate waystation. An Obsidian Arch towered over a nearby stable. Energy crackled through its thick columns and thundered into a portal leading to another part of the world.