The Power (The Magnificent 12 4)

He plunged the sword into Valin’s heart. In his imagination.

Put it this way: he intended to plunge the sword into Valin’s heart. But between the moment when Paddy decided on that course of action and when he actually did the whole plunging thing, something like sixty seconds passed. During which time Valin had stepped out of the way, patted Paddy on the shoulder, and said, “You’ve been a good mentor to me. Let’s not spoil it with a long good-bye.”

“We need to get back to our own time,” Mack said. The truth was he was feeling very cranky, very resentful, even peeved at Valin. He had a strong desire to punch the crazy kid in the stomach. But he had a job to do. There was a world to be saved, and the clock was ticking. So he swallowed hard, gritted his teeth, and said, “Are you with us, Valin?”

Valin did a sort of bow, a rather dramatic move really. Then he drew his sword and laid it at Mack’s feet. “I am yours.”

While that was happening, Paddy made another try at stabbing Valin, and Stefan had to deflect the blade with a stick he had time to fetch.

“I know the way,” Valin said. “We shall all return to our present day. The breach has been healed! The wrong has been undone! My patrimony is assured! My family’s shame is negated! I am free! Free as never before!”

Valin went on with more of that, but Mack kind of stopped listening. He was going to need a bit more time to get over the fact that Valin had very nearly killed him. But he needed Valin, and sometimes, when necessity demands it, you have to move past your petty grudges.

“Swell,” Mack said. As they headed off to the lake where they had first emerged in this time and place, Mack pulled Xiao aside. “What was it that Sean Patrick was about to say to Boguslawa?”

“That he has been taking classes from a man who hopes to pass his business on to Sean Patrick. A man who hopes Sean Patrick will be like the son he never had and carry the honored family name forward.”

“Are you about to tell me . . . ?”

Xiao nodded. “Yes. Sean Patrick has been apprentice to a clown.”

“Um . . .”

“He says if he studies hard and gets good enough, he will inherit the title of . . . Izmir the Clown.”

“Whatever you do—” Mack warned.

“Not a word to Valin,” Xiao swore. “Not a word.”

Paddy “Nine Iron” Trout was at a loss. He didn’t want to live in the year 1634. There were medications and ointments in the twenty-first century that he would have a hard time finding here. On the other hand, he also didn’t want to face the wrath of the Pale Queen when she learned he had let Valin join the Magnificent Twelve.

He thought it over quickly, but by the time he reached a conclusion the next morning, he was alone.

Fifteen

The Magnificent Eight . . . Wait, let’s check that: Mack, Jarrah, Xiao, Dietmar, Sylvie, Rodrigo, Charlie, and Valin. Yes, eight.

The Magnificent Eight plus Stefan were face-to-face with the reality that time was just about up. And they were still eight and not twelve. If you know anything about math, you’ll agree that meant they were short by four.

And bad things were brewing. The news report on the hotel TV was alarming enough even if you didn’t suspect what was behind it: a volcano was forming in the ocean off San Francisco.

You know the last time a volcano formed off the coast of San Francisco? Probably the Jurassic period. There would have been dinosaurs saying, “Hey, what’s that?”

There were no dinosaurs around now, just the BBC on the television at the hotel where most of the Magnifica had spent their time trying to figure out what had happened to Mack, Xiao, and Stefan.

“The dome is growing at an incredible rate, according to volcanologists. The ash plume is already drifting over the city, and California may experience major earthquakes and tidal waves. But first, we have the results of the cricket match between Kenya and Sri Lanka.”

“Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?” Mack asked.

“That I never did get those lentils?” Stefan said. He nodded angrily. “Yeah. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Could this volcano be a manifestation of the Pale Queen?” Xiao suggested.

“It’s awfully coincidental,” Charlie said.

Sylvie said, “Can it not be said that all of life is a coincidence?” Then she thought it over and answered her own question. “No. I think this is the Pale Queen.”

“Then we know where we have to go. But we don’t have time to search the world for the remaining four.”