The Key Read Online Free PDF Page B

crenellated walls and arches, with hard-on-the-feet cobblestones underfoot.
    â€œHey! I can see it now,” Stefan said. The spell of invisibility only worked on the exterior of the castle, like a coat of camouflage.
    â€œUm …,” Mack said.
    Before he could finish his thought (and we’ll never know what it was), a torch burst into wild orange flame. It was about eye level on the wall to their right.
    Then a second torch. Another. Another.
    A line of torches moved from right to left, turned the corner to cross the facing wall, then came around to trace the left wall.
    The torches whipped frantically as though they were in a strong wind, but it was perfectly still in the courtyard.
    In the flickering orange glow they could see quite clearly. Yes, there were tall walls all around. And gloomy arches outlined in gleaming white skulls. Mack noticed—because Mack noticed things—that not all of the skulls were human. There were some that were too small to be human. There were others too large, far too large, and with teeth where teeth had no business being.
    Against the facing wall, flanked on both sides by shadowed arches, a rough-hewn throne sat atop a platform. And on that throne sat a man. He was wearing a skirt. And every one of the Magnifica and Stefan had the identical thought: I hope that dude keeps his legs crossed.
    The man was built as wide as he was tall, but he was still plenty tall. He had extravagant red hair pushing out from beneath a too-small cap. His massive hands gripped the arms of the throne as if he would—and could—rip them right off at any moment.
    He stared with eyes that glittered from deep, torch-cast shadows.
    â€œI am the MacGuffin,” he announced in a heavily accented speech. “Wha urr ye, ’n’ how have you come ’ere uninvited?”
    The stones seemed to shake when he spoke. Or maybe it was just that Mack shook. Mack was not fond of beards. In fact, he suffered from pogonophobia—an irrational fear of beards, which only distance could keep under control.
    â€œWe’re, um …,” Mack began, before faltering. He glanced aside and happened to see Dietmar. Somehow now Dietmar wasn’t all that interested in taking the lead. “We’re, um, hikers. Is this Urquhart Castle? Because that’s … that’s where we … um …”
    â€œUrquhart Castle, is it?” MacGuffin demanded, and gnashed his teeth. “Di ah keek lik’ a Durward?”
    â€œA what?”
    â€œA Durward!” MacGuffin shouted.
    â€œWhat’s a Durward?”
    â€œTh’ Durwards ur th’ family that runs Urquhart Castle, ye ninny.”
    Dietmar got a crafty look on his face. “Shouldn’t Urquhart Castle be run by a family named Urquhart?”
    â€œNa, you great eejit!”
    Dietmar did not like being called a “great eejit” so soon after suffering the indignity of being transformed into a sunflower. And, as Mack noticed grudgingly, Dietmar had some spine. The German boy was not a wimp, and he was getting ready to say something forceful to MacGuffin.
    But there was something crazy in MacGuffin’s eyes, which perfectly reflected the light of the torches from under bushy eyebrows, and Dietmar chose to do the wise thing and fall silent.
    MacGuffin leaned forward and glared at Mack. “Ah ken how come yer ’ere. Ye huv come tae steal mah key.”
    â€œKey?” Mack said disingenuously. “What key?”
    â€œDinnae tak’ me fur a gowk. Ye huv th’ enlightened puissance or ye wouldn’t be ’ere. Ah ken th’ Pale Queen rises, wee jimmy. Ah ken wha ’n’ whit yer.”
    Or, in regular English, “Don’t take me for a fool. You have the enlightened puissance or you wouldn’t be here. I know the Pale Queen rises, boy. I know who and what you are.”
    And it was at that heart-stopping moment that Mack’s phone made an eerie sound.