Fablehaven2-Rise of the Evening Star Page 34

  as he said, and Warren used the rope to bind his shirt in

  place over the wound. He wiped the blood from the spearhead

  onto his pants. Can you go on? Kendra asked.

  Not much choice, he said. Let's see if the Minotaur's

  key works.

  Groaning, Warren used the tall key to pull himself to his

  feet. He walked to the iron door, inserted the Minotaur's key,

  and opened it.

  The Vault

  Another stairway spiraled down beyond the open door.

  More sunstones, brighter than before, lit the way.

  Warren prodded the steps and found that they were solid.

  Kendra, he said. Go erase the lines around a few of the

  sinkholes near the entrance to the room.

  When Kendra returned, Warren was feeling the pulse in

  his neck. Perspiration dampened his forehead. How are

  you? she asked.

  I'm not doing too bad, he assured her. Especially for a

  guy who just underwent involuntary surgery. We have the

  Minotaur's key. If we shut the door behind us, our friend the

  narcoblix will probably have to earn a key of her own.

  Okay, Kendra said, stepping into the stairwell with

  Warren and closing the door. She turned to face him, and

  vanished.

  Maybe you should just keep the glove handy for the

  next threat, Warren said. It is tough losing track of where

  you are when we pause.

  Kendra took off the glove. As long as they were moving

  around, exploring the tower, it wasn't much of a protection

  anyway. Slipping it on would be little more trouble than

  simply holding still. They descended the stairs for some time,

  finding no false steps until the final few before the very end.

  I like the placement, Warren said, jumping over them

  and wincing when he landed. He leaned against the wall,

  one hand clutching his wound. Just when you assume all

  the stairs are solid, you plunge to your doom.

  No door awaited them. Instead, an arched entryway

  granted access to a broad chamber with a complex mosaic

  on the floor. The mosaic depicted an enormous battle of primates

  being waged in tall trees. The perspective was from

  the ground looking up, creating a disorienting effect.

  Motioning for Kendra to stay put, Warren entered the

  room. A second archway on the far side of the chamber

  appeared to be the only way out. Satisfied that they faced no

  immediate threat, Warren beckoned for Kendra to follow.

  The instant she stepped into the room, the ax vanished

  from her grasp. Below her, high in a tree, a chimpanzee

  screamed. Twirling Kendra's ax, the manic primate leaped

  from his high perch and fell upwards toward the ground. The

  chimpanzee sailed right out of the mosaic, materializing in

  front of Kendra, brandishing the ax.

  Shrieking, Kendra ran away from the ax-wielding chimp,

  yanking on her glove. Rushing up from behind the chimpanzee,

  Warren flung the key just as the screeching ape was

  beginning to give chase. The key sailed true, striking the

  frenzied beast between the shoulder blades, and the chimpanzee

  pitched forward onto the floor, long hand twitching,

  the ax skidding forward over tiny tiles.

  Don't pick up the ax, Warren warned. This chamber

  is meant to strip us of all weaponry.

  Except the key, Kendra said.

  Grunting, Warren bent over and retrieved the key, again

  wiping the spearhead on his pants. Right, he said. My

  guess is that to pass this room with any weapon besides the

  key, we would have to slay every monkey in the mosaic.

  Kendra looked down. There were hundreds of apes,

  including dozens of powerful gorillas. Maybe it was a good

  thing you didn't have all your gear.

  Warren smiled ruefully. You're not kidding. Being

  butchered by monkeys is pretty low on my list of ways to go.

  Come on.

  They passed through the archway at the other end of the

  room and began winding down yet another stairwell. All the

  stairs were real, and at the bottom they found another open

  archway, narrower than the previous ones.

  Warren led the way into a cylindrical room where the

  floor was hundreds of feet below. Widely spaced sunstones

  provided sufficient light. A narrow catwalk without railings

  ringed the top of the room, level with the entrance. The

  roof bristled with barbed spikes. Kendra saw no way to

  descend-the walls were smooth and sheer all the way to

  the bottom, where she could barely make out something in

  the center of the floor.

  I'm not sure we brought enough rope, Warren joked,

  stepping onto the catwalk. I believe this is our destination.

  How are you with heights?

  Not so good, Kendra said.

  Wait here, he said. He walked along the catwalk, testing

  the air with the key, as if searching for an invisible stairway.

  Kendra noticed an alcove in the far side of the wide

  room. When Warren reached the alcove, he removed something

  from it. He levitated a few feet into the air, glanced up

  at the spikes above him, and floated back down.

  I think I get it, he called. He reached into the alcove

  again and there was a bright flash that flung him backwards

  off the catwalk. Kendra watched breathlessly as Warren

  plummeted toward the distant floor. He began falling slower,

  then stopped, then started rising. He floated slowly as he

  drew even with Kendra, and finally stopped, hovering in the

  center of the room.

  In addition to the key, Warren was holding a short white

  rod. I can't move side to side, he explained. He floated up

  close to the spikes, carefully took hold of one, and pushed

  off, sending himself drifting toward Kendra, moving much

  the way Kendra pictured astronauts would in zero gravity.

  Warren alighted on the catwalk beside her. The short

  rod was carved out of ivory. One tip was black. He had been

  holding the rod parallel to the floor, but now that he stood

  on the catwalk, he tilted it so the black tip was facing up.

  That makes you fly? Kendra asked.

  More like it reverses gravity, he said. Black tip up,

  gravity pulls down. Black tip down, gravity pulls up.

  Sideways, you get zero gravity. Tilt the black tip up a little

  bit, gravity pulls down a little bit. Get it?

  I think so, she said.

  Careful of the roof, he warned.

  Have you done this before? she asked.

  Never, he said. You learn to experiment in places like

  this.

  He held out the rod. She took it. I want to try it out in

  the stairway, without the spikes.

  Go for it, he said.

  Kendra went back to the stairway. Slowly she tipped the

  rod until it was sideways. Nothing felt any different. She

  jumped slightly, and it felt perfectly normal.

  I don't think it works out here, she said.

  The enchantment must be specific to this room, he

  said. Still, strong spell, I've never heard of anything like it.

  Remember, with the rod, you're changing which way gravity

  pulls you. If your momentum
is going one way, turning

  the rod won't instantly change your direction. When I was

  falling and I flipped it over, I slowed, stopped, and then

  started going up. So leave yourself room to stop, or you

  might end up a shish kebab.

  I'm not going to let myself go fast, Kendra said.

  Good idea, Warren said. And, for the record, don't try

  to grab a second rod. It felt like I'd been struck by lightning.

  Holding the rod, Kendra followed Warren around the

  catwalk. She kept the black tip pointed straight up, not

  wanting to risk drifting up to the spikes. When they reached

  the alcove, she saw that there were nine other rods, each

  resting in a hole, black tip up.

  What do you say we make sure we can't be followed,

  Warren said, grabbing a rod and tossing it off the edge of the

  catwalk. Instead of falling, the rod floated back to the same

  hole from which Warren had removed it. He picked up the

  rod again. When he let go of it, the rod again returned itself

  to the hole.

  We better hold tight to these, or we'll end up stranded

  down there, Kendra said.

  Warren nodded, removing a rod for himself. He turned

  it so the black tip was only slightly upwards and stepped off

  the edge, falling gently, again making Kendra think of

  astronauts.

  Kendra tipped the rod slowly, marveling as she felt the

  pull of gravity diminishing, even without moving. The

  sensation was strange; it reminded her of being underwater.

  Tilting the rod so the black tip was slightly downward, she

  floated up, her feet leaving the catwalk. Tipping the rod the

  other way a tad, she drifted back down.

  Now that she trusted the rod, Kendra stepped off the

  edge of the catwalk and began a mild freefall. The sensation

  was incredible. She had dreamed of going into space in order

  to experience zero gravity, and here she was, in an under-ground

  tower, sampling something much like it. The dizzying

  drop beneath her feet was no longer very intimidating, now

  that she could control gravity with a twist of her wrist.

  Warren rose to meet her. Experiment with the rod, he

  said. Nothing too drastic, but get a feel for how to rise and

  fall and stop yourself. There's a knack to it. I have a feeling it

  will come in handy before we finish here.

  Suddenly Warren shot downward. Kendra watched him

  slow to a stop. I thought you said nothing too drastic, she

  called to him.

  He rocketed upwards, drawing even with her again. I

  meant for you, he said before plunging away below her.

  Little by little, Kendra tilted the black tip up higher,

  incrementally increasing the rate of her descent. She

  abruptly tipped the rod in the other direction, and her

  descent slowed with a feeling like she was connected to an

  elastic band. Making the rod parallel with the ground, she

  brought herself to a standstill about halfway to the floor.

  Kendra glanced up at the distant spikes in the ceiling.

  She tilted the black tip all the way down, and with a sudden

  rush of acceleration she was shooting up toward the iron stalactites.

  The sensation was disorienting, exactly like falling

  headfirst toward the ground, and the spikes came rapidly

  nearer. In a panic she whipped the rod the other way. The

  elastic feeling was much stronger this time, although it took

  long enough to slow that she got much nearer to the spikes

  than she liked. Before she knew it she was careening toward

  the floor of the tall chamber. Her body began rotating, and

  she lost some sense of which way she needed to turn the rod

  to slow her fall. She overcorrected several times before gaining

  control, whipping herself up and down erratically.

  When she finally leveled out, Kendra was two-thirds of

  the way to the floor, hovering near the wall. She kicked off

  gently.

  And I thought I was a daredevil, Warren called.

  That was a little more daring than I intended, Kendra

  admitted, trying not to sound as shaken as she felt. She

  experimented more with rising and falling, growing accustomed

  to easing herself to a stop and to keeping her body

  properly oriented. At last she landed softly on the floor next

  to Warren and normalized the gravity by holding her rod

  black-end up.

  The room was bare except for a pedestal at the center.

  The floor was polished, seamless stone. Atop the pedestal sat

  a life-sized likeness of a black cat, made of colored glass.

  Is that the artifact? Kendra asked.

  My guess is we're looking at the vault, Warren said.

  Do we smash it? Kendra asked.

  That might be a start, Warren said.

  How are you feeling? Kendra asked.

  Stabbed, he said. But functional. Things could turn

  ugly fast. If it comes to it, you may want to fly up to the catwalk

  and hope for mercy from the narcoblix. But don't try

  to exit the tower. I was very serious about the traps set to

  prevent anyone from exiting prematurely.

  Right, Kendra said. I won't ditch you.

  Warren tipped the rod somewhat and jumped, soaring

  over Kendra's head and landing gently behind her, wincing

  slightly and clutching his side. See, you can also simply

  reduce gravity to your advantage. Could come in handy.

  Kendra tilted the rod, feeling herself lightening, and

  took a leap, gliding in a long, lazy parabola. Gotcha.

  You ready? Warren said.

  What's going to happen? Kendra said.

  I'll smash the cat and we'll see.

  What if the roof comes down on us? she asked.

  Warren gazed up at the distant ceiling. That would be

  bad. Let's hope the spikes are just meant to impale people

  who are clumsy with their gravity sticks.

  You think there may be something scary inside the cat?

  Kendra asked.

  Seems like a safe bet. We better hurry. Who knows how

  long before the narcoblix shows up? You ready? Glove on?

  Kendra pulled on the glove and turned invisible. Okay.

  Warren prodded the cat with the sharp end of the key.

  The tip of the spearhead clinked loudly, but the figurine did

  not crack. He jabbed it a few times. Clink, clink, clink. I'm

  not sure we're meant to break it, he said. Moving close,

  Warren touched the cat with his finger and then skipped

  away, key ready.

  The glass cat shimmered and became a real cat, mewing

  softly. It had a tiny key around its neck.

  Kendra felt some of the tension leave her. Is this some

  kind of joke? she asked.

  If so, I don't think we've seen the punch line yet.

  Maybe it has rabies, Kendra said.

  Tentatively, Warren approached the black cat. It hopped

  down from the pedestal and slunk toward him. Nothing

  indicated that the feline was anything other than a scrawny

  domestic cat. Crouching, Warren let the animal lick his

  hand. He stroked the cat softly, and then untied the ribbon

  that held the key. Instantly the cat hissed and swiped a paw

  at him. Warren stood and backed away, puzzling ov
er the

  key. The cat arched its back and showed its teeth.

  It turned mean, Kendra said.

  It is mean, Warren corrected. This is certainly no

  mere housecat. We have not yet seen the true form of our

  adversary.

  The feral cat spat and hissed.

  Warren began investigating the big key. He rolled it,

  examining it from end to end. Ah-ha! he said, inserting

  the tiny key into a hole just below the spearhead. When he

  turned the miniscule key, the handle at the opposite end of

  the big key detached and clattered to the ground.

  Connected to the handle was a long, slender blade. A sword

  had been hidden in the shaft of the tall key, with only the

  handle showing!

  Warren picked up the sword, swishing it through the air.

  The handle had no guard. The sharp blade was long and

  sleek, and it flashed dangerously in the glow of the sunstones.

  We have ourselves a pair of weapons, Warren said.

  Take the spear! Without the sword it has a better balance.

  Eyes on the cat, Kendra drew near and took the spear

  from Warren. How do I use this? she asked.

  Stab with it, Warren said. It's probably too heavy for

  you to throw it effectively. Pay more attention to soaring

  away if trouble comes near.

  All right, she said, taking a few practice jabs.

  Without warning, the cat charged at Kendra. She swung

  the spear and it veered away, darting toward Warren. His

  sword whisked down and lopped off the head of the cat.

  Warren stepped away from the corpse, watching it intently.

  Both the head and the body of the feline began to boil as if

  full of writhing worms. The head melted into a soupy pool.

  The headless body began to heave inside out, revealing wet

  glimpses of muscle and bone, until the churning finally

  stopped and the black cat was whole again.

  The cat hissed at Warren, fur rising along its arched

  back. It was bigger now, larger than any domestic cat Kendra

  had ever seen. Warren took a step toward the cat and it

  bolted, body stretching long as it raced fluidly away. The

  next two times Warren came close, the cat streaked away, in

  the end returning to the pedestal.

  Warren approached the pedestal. Baring teeth and

  claws, the cat sprang at him. A slash of his sword intercepted

  the feline, and the cat flopped to the floor. Warren stabbed it

  to ensure the animal a quick demise, and then backed away.

  Once again, the lifeless body began to pulse and roil.