The last word elongated and rose in pitch, climbing the scale as the ghost seemed to shrink. For a moment, it assumed the form of the blue dryad, cringing and desperate, then it began to lose its shape entirely. It dwindled, and James saw that it contracted in the same proportion as Merlin's closing hand, as if the wizard were squeezing Austramaddux in his outstretched fist. The ghost's last word bled into a wail of horror, diminishing even as the ghost collapsed into a bright, flickering point of light. Merlin squeezed his fist, and then opened his hand with a roll of the fingers. The ghost popped, vanished, leaving only the echo of its final scream.

Finally, as if noticing them for the first time, Merlin turned his attention to James, Ralph, and Zane. James moved forward, not sure what he would do, but knowing in his heart he had to do something. Merlin raised his hand again, this time towards James. James felt the world soften around him, darkening. He fought it, tried to shout out against the descending oblivion, but it was no use. He could fight the power of Merlin as much as a gnat might fight a gale. The world streamed away, funneling down to a point, and at the center of the point was the upraised hand of Merlin, pulling him in. There was an eye in the center of the hand, blue like ice. The eye closed, and Merlin's voice said one word, a word that seemed to fill the blackness where the world had once been, and that word was 'sleep'.

18.  The Tower Assembly

        Dawn was a faint pink line on the rim of the horizon when James opened his eyes. He was lying uncomfortably on the grass at the bottom of the Grotto Keep, and he was cold to the bone. Moaning, he rolled to a sitting position and took stock of his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that the Merlin throne was gone. There wasn't as much as a depression in the grass where it had stood. The second thing James noticed as he raised his head and looked around was that the Grotto Keep was no longer a magical place. In the absence of the Merlin throne, the island was quickly returning to its wild, random nature. The sense of haunting, gothic architecture was slipping away. Birds sang in the thatch of tree branches overhead.

        "Oh-hh," a voice nearby groaned. "Where am I? Somehow, I have the terrible feeling that a cup of coffee and a fireplace is not about to appear before my eyes."

        "Zane," James said, getting shakily to his feet. "Are you all right? Where's Ralph?"

        "I'm here," Ralph muttered. "I'm just taking inventory of all my bones and major bodily functions. So far, nothing alarming, except that I need a bathroom even more than St. Lokimagus."

        James climbed the steps into the gloom of the upper terraces of the grotto. The early morning light was faint and grey, barely making it through the brush and trees of the island. Zane and Ralph were climbing unsteadily to their feet.

        "Merlin's gone," James said, looking around. "And I don't see Jackson or Delacroix, either." He stepped over the broken bits of Jackson's wand and shuddered.

        "Guess we were wrong about him, weren't we?" Ralph said.

        "We were wrong about loads of stuff," James agreed softly.

        Zane rubbed his lower back and groaned. "Hey, we didn't do too bad, considering everything. We almost stopped Merlin's return, thanks to a handy length of log and my catlike reflexes." His voice sounded hollow in the flat echo of the grotto, and he fell silent. The three boys found the opening that led out to the dragon's head bridge, hacked through some weeds that had grown up to choke the space, and stumbled out into the dawn. The bridge had partially collapsed, and bore almost no resemblance to the frightening dragon's head anymore. The bank bordering the forest was muddy and wet, covered in morning dew.

        "Hey look," Ralph said, pointing. There were tracks in the fresh, slippery mud.

        "Looks like two people went that way. Away from the school," Zane said, bending over to study the sloppy markings. "You think one of them was Merlin?"

        James shook his head. "No. Merlin wasn't wearing shoes. That looks like Delacroix and Jackson to me. She probably left first, and then he set out after her when he came to. Besides, something about Merlin tells me he doesn't leave tracks unless he makes a point of it."

        "I hope Jackson breaks her in half when he catches her," Zane said, but without much passion.

        "I hope she doesn't break him," Ralph replied morosely. "You saw what she did to his wand."

        "Don't remind me," James muttered. "I don't want to think about it." He began to walk forward, heading generally into the woods where they'd left Prechka, but with no real destination in mind. He had a terrible suspicion about where Merlin had gone, and he, James, was responsible for that. Twice, Delacroix had called him her apprentice. She had influenced him, somehow, and he'd allowed it. He had played right into her plan, bringing the robe to her. She was right. She hadn't had to lift so much as a finger. True, things hadn't seemed to work out very well for her in the end, but that didn't mean much. A lone, rogue Merlin might be even more dangerous than a Merlin in league with people like the Progressive Element. At least they tried to operate under a guise of respectability. Merlin was from a different time, a more direct and deadly time. A nearly crushing weight of guilt and hopelessness pressed down on James as he plodded forward. Zane and Ralph followed quietly.

        Prechka was gone. James wasn't surprised, really. Her footprints were pressed into the dewy earth like dinosaur tracks. Without a word, the boys followed them, shivering and wet with dew. Mist filled the woods, reducing the world to a handful of black trees and dripping bushes. As they walked, the mist grew bright, absorbing the sun, and finally began to burn away. The forest awoke with bird song, and the scampering of unseen creatures in the brush. And then, surprisingly, there were distant voices, calling for them.

        "Hey!" Zane said, stopping and listening. "That's Ted!"

        "And Sabrina!" Ralph added. "What are they doing out here? Hey! Over here!"

        The three boys stopped and called to the two Gremlins, who responded with hoots and hollers. A gigantic shape loomed out of the mist, moving almost delicately through the trees.

        "Grawp!" Zane laughed, running to meet the giant.

        "Boy, you three look like Inferi leftovers," Ted called down from Grawp's shoulders. "You spent the whole night out here?"

        "It's a long story, but yes," Zane called up. "Short version: Merlin's back, the voodoo queen's on the run, and Jackson was a good guy after all. He's after her as we speak, results unknown."