Lair of the Beast Page 14

  “Perhaps,” Wily offered, “another day? We’re a little pressed for time just now.”

  “We insist,” Gurta said sternly as her eyes began to glow a sinister red.

  “You must,” Sytle added.

  Gurta took a heavy breath and then her eyes went back to the innocuous white that they were before.

  “Just follow us,” Gurta said, her voice melodic once more.

  The elfin mother and daughter walked in lockstep toward the door of the chamber. They gestured Wily and Valor to follow.

  “We need to get away from this creepy duo,” Valor said. “I have a really bad feeling about them.”

  “I don’t see what choice we have,” Wily said.

  “We could knock them over the heads and make a run for it.”

  “We have no idea how to get out of here,” Wily countered. “We can’t go back the way we came. For now, I think we should follow them.”

  Valor clearly wasn’t happy but wasn’t able to come up with a better plan, so they followed the elves and found themselves in a well-lit cavern decorated with bubbling fountains and ornately carved statues. A twisting path led to a delightful cottage with stained-glass windows and a gently smoking chimney.

  Valor and Wily spotted a pack of puppies playing at the side of the pool.

  “Well, those are absolutely adorable,” Valor said. She moved to the edge of the path and was about to step off when—

  “Don’t disturb them,” Gurta said. “Stay on the path.”

  “Yes, stay on the path,” echoed Sytle.

  Valor gave a short bark to grab the puppies’ attention, but they seemed too busy playing to notice her. After another unanswered bark, Valor shrugged and continued with Wily along the path toward the cottage.

  “So is it just the two of you who live here?” Wily asked.

  “Yes,” Gurta said. “I live with the most wonderful person in all of Panthasos.”

  “Yes,” Sytle added. “The most wonderful.”

  “You two are certainly a lot alike,” Valor said.

  “What a compliment,” Gurta said.

  “So flattering,” added Sytle.

  “Every daughter ends up just like her mother,” Gurta said. “And every son becomes his father. It’s a fate you can’t escape.”

  “Yes,” Sytle added. “Always the same.”

  Wily thought about his father and the terrible king that he had been. It was his greatest fear that he would end up like him. Was there really no escaping it?

  As they got closer to the cottage, a pair of magical glass doors with glowing crystals swung open on their own. Wily could see that the cottage’s interior was decorated with lovely furniture and artwork. Happy pictures of the mother and daughter lined the walls. After they entered the house, Gurta closed the door behind them. Wily heard the telltale click of a bolt slotting into place and knew they had just been locked in.

  “We know you are in a rush,” Gurta said. “But what kind of hostesses would we be if we didn’t entertain you first?”

  Wily and Valor reluctantly took their seats in large, ornate, overstuffed chairs as the two elves moved over to a large stringed harp and a pair of metal chimes.

  “What song would you like to hear?” Gurta asked.

  “I’m not really familiar with chamber music,” Wily said.

  “You’re heading for the Below, correct?” Gurta said. “Then perhaps you would be interested in the piece known as ‘The Great Below.’”

  Gurta, with great excitement, began to pluck the notes of her harp. Her song was off-key and rather unpleasant. Wily could easily imagine he would do better than she without much practice. Sytle was using a small mallet to hit a row of the metal chimes, but was doing it so softly that the chimes didn’t appear to be making any sound at all. Which, assuming she shared her daughter’s lack of musical talent, was probably all for the better.

  After a few minutes of the unpleasant melody, Gurta stopped plucking the harp. Wily and Valor began to clap, but Gurta looked at them sharply. “Why are you being so rude?” Gurta asked. “My mother is in the middle of her solo.”

  Wily looked over to see Sytle playing the chimes in a complicated pattern with a very intense face. But the music was so quiet Wily couldn’t hear it at all.

  After another minute of awkward silence, Gurta joined in again. The song reached an unpleasant crescendo, then stopped. Wily and Valor looked over to Sytle again.

  “Why aren’t you clapping?” Gurta asked.

  “We weren’t sure if it was done,” Wily said.

  “We stopped playing,” Gurta said. “That’s usually a pretty good sign that the song has ended.”

  Wily and Valor clapped politely.

  “They didn’t like it,” Gurta said.

  “They didn’t like it,” Sytle agreed sadly.

  “No,” Wily said a little too strongly. “We loved it.”

  Both daughter and mother shared a satisfied smile. They stood up in unison, took each other’s hands, and curtsied, Gurta with her left hand and Sytle her right, as if they were perfect mirrors of each other.

  “We do love the company,” Gurta said.

  “Yes,” Sytle added. “The company is lovely.”

  Gurta let out a yawn. As she did, Wily caught a glance of something odd out of the corner of his eye. One of the pillows on the chair he was sitting on suddenly changed into a gray, lumpy burlap sack. Gurta caught sight of the pillow and quickly shook her head as if to wake up again. Wily saw the sack was gone, back to the ornate pillow it had been before.

  “We should all get some rest,” Gurta said.

  “Yes,” Sytle added. “Some rest.”

  “I’m not actually tired,” Valor said.

  “I said ‘rest’!’” Gurta screamed. Then, quickly, she resumed her pleasant tone. “Put these on, and in the morning I can—we can—set you on your way.”

  She handed blindfolds to Valor and Wily.

  “I’m not wearing this,” Valor said.

  Gurta came right up into her face. “I need to sleep and that means you are going to sleep too.”

  Gurta let out another giant yawn. As she did the entire room flickered, and the beautiful ornate cottage suddenly transformed into a desolate, dreary house. Wily saw that he was sitting on a wooden bench covered with lumpy bags of burlap. The front doors were made of iron, not glowing crystals.

  Wily scanned the room. The entire house had been transformed by an illusion. Most unsettling of all was that when the illusion had flickered out so had Sytle. Wily turned to the corner of the room. There, slumped against a wooden chair, was a skeleton that still had a metal ringed gown on it—the same dress that Sytle had been wearing. Or perhaps the same dress the illusion of Sytle had been wearing.

  Gurta stomped toward them. “Why didn’t you just put on the blindfold?” Gurta growled. “Why does no one ever put on the mask?”

  Suddenly, Gurta’s own appearance began to flicker. She was no longer a glowing beauty but instead a haggard and wild-haired old elf missing all her teeth. “You’ll keep me company now,” Gurta said. “Forever.”

  She reached out for Wily’s wrist, but before she could grab it, Valor slapped her hand away.

  “You’re not keeping him, or me either,” Valor said.

  “I will not spend another day alone,” Gurta said. “You will keep us company. Right, mother?”

  Gurta looked to her mother’s skeleton slumped in the chair and waited in vain for her to respond. Valor seized the opportunity to give the haggard elf a kick to the stomach, sending her tumbling backward.

  Valor ran for the front door, pulling Wily behind her. Once they got closer, Wily could see that the iron doors had actually been shut with a heavy padlock. Valor began hitting it with the side of her fist, but no fist was going to break that lock open.

  “Let me handle this,” Wily said.

  “What, you think you’re stronger than me?” Valor asked.

  “Definitely not,” Wily responded
. “You’re way tougher than I’ll ever be. But I’m pretty handy.”

  He pulled a pair of arrowtusk lock picks from his belt. He found the one with the finest point, stuck it into the lock hole, and twisted it until he heard a click. The lock snapped open. He thought back to how his father had used a screwdriver to escape from his shackles.

  “Not bad,” Valor said.

  “Machines are a lot like beasts,” Wily said. “They each have their own personality.”

  Valor gave the door a hard shove with her shoulder, forcing it open.

  Wily looked out and saw not a beautiful garden and path but instead an elevated stone pathway with no sides that twisted its way through a dark, spooky cave. On either side of the elevated path, the ground was covered in cave urchins, black spiky crawlers with needlelike projectiles sticking out from their backs and heads. Wily knew they were not only sharp but poisonous too. A single touch was enough to stiffen muscles and make running, walking, and especially climbing impossible.

  Wily and Valor ran out of the horrible haunted house and began winding their way along the twisting elevated pathway. Down below, the vicious urchins shuffled over each other, feeding on an unfortunate bat that had flown too low.

  “This is the way we came,” Valor said pointing to the left side of a forking elevated pathway.

  “And it’s a dead end,” Wily said, “that leads only back to the slide.”

  “Good point.” Valor turned to the right.

  The elevated pathway may have been twisty but at least it was wide enough that if they stayed in the center, there was no chance they would accidentally fall off.

  “You can’t leave me!” Gurta shouted from the entrance to the house, holding a club made of urchin spikes.

  “She won’t be able to catch up with us,” Valor said reassuringly as she looked over her shoulder. “Not if we keep up this pace.”

  Wily looked back to see Gurta transforming into a glowing red specter. A glowing sphere surrounded her and began to grow rapidly. It quickly overtook the house, transforming it into a frightening mausoleum. The glowing sphere continued to spread, changing everything in its path.

  “It’s just an illusion,” Valor said. “It’s not real. It can’t hurt us.”

  Wily watched the bright shell of the illusion come rushing toward them. In a flash, the spell overtook them. The elevated pathway no longer looked like what it actually was—it appeared to be a regular, bland cave floor, flat and unimpressive. Which meant it was totally impossible to tell where the elevated pathway ended or began. It now blended in perfectly with everything else.

  “Don’t move,” Wily said.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Valor said. “You didn’t happen to memorize the pathway to the exit, did you?”

  “No such luck,” Wily said.

  Behind them, Gurta was running along the twisted elevated pathway that it seemed only she could see. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Wily couldn’t help but think that Gurta looked ridiculous as she wove her way around what looked like a completely flat, wide surface.

  He had to think fast. His trapsmith belt must have something he could use. He dove into the pouches and found screws and vials of goo, a hammer, and extra gears. Nothing that could help guide their way. Then he spotted Valor’s feed pouch.

  “I need birdseed,” Wily said.

  Valor held back a sarcastic remark and handed over the pouch.

  Wily reached in, pulled out a handful of seed, and tossed it onto the ground before them. Some of the seeds appeared to stay on the surface while others disappeared.

  “Only walk on the spots where you see the birdseed,” Wily instructed Valor.

  She nodded and followed Wily’s lead. Every few steps, he threw another handful of seeds before him. Some landed on the elevated pathway, while the rest disappeared into the illusion.

  “This is taking too long,” Valor said.

  Gurta was rapidly approaching with her urchin spike club.

  Wily tried tossing birdseed as fast as he could. He gave Valor a handful to toss as well. They moved swiftly to the exit ahead.

  “We’re almost there,” Wily said, looking to the stone arch that was coming closer and closer.

  Valor looked back over her shoulder again and stopped in her tracks.

  “She’s gone,” Valor said, clearly confused.

  Valor was correct; Gurta was nowhere to be seen behind them. But when Wily turned around again to face the exit, Gurta was standing just a few feet in front of Valor, who screamed in surprise. Wily looked closer at Gurta and could see that her feet were hovering a few inches above the ground.

  “Valor,” Wily shouted, “that’s not the real Gurta. It’s just an illusion!”

  The illusion of Gurta lunged at Valor. The shock sent her stumbling back. In a flash, Wily watched as she disappeared into the floor.

  Wily ran to the spot where she’d fallen. Had she dropped into a pile of venomous cave urchins? He went to his knees. “Valor?” he said, trying hard not to panic.

  “I’m right here,” Valor said, her voice far closer than Wily had expected.

  Wily saw the tips of her fingers rise above the illusion of the flat cave floor.

  “I was able to catch the edge,” Valor said. “But my hands are slipping.”

  Wily stuck his hands into the illusionary floor, reaching for Valor’s hand.

  “Can you see my hand?” Wily asked.

  “Yes,” Valor answered. “I can see everything under here. And it’s not pretty. Keep your hand in one place.”

  Wily waited. Then suddenly he felt a hand grab his wrist tightly.

  “I’m going to pull you up,” Wily said. He heaved with all his might, pulling Valor out of the illusion and back up to solid ground.

  “That was close,” Valor said.

  The illusion of Gurta held both of her hands up to signal them to stop.

  “You cannot escape,” the real Gurta screamed from somewhere behind them.

  Wily grabbed Valor by the wrist, and together they ran straight through the illusionary elf. Wily kept tossing more birdseed on the floor until they reached the stone arch that appeared to signal the end of Gurta’s realm.

  The two kept running into the dark tunnel ahead. Wily pulled out a flint stone and candle to light their way. As he did, he noticed Valor staring at him.

  “We just escaped,” Valor said. “Why don’t you look happy?”

  “It was just something that Gurta said,” Wily replied. “That a son becomes just like his father.”

  “Gurta is a crazy old elf. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You don’t have to follow in your father’s footprints. You could follow in your mother’s. Or make your own path.”

  Wily listened carefully, Valor’s words sinking in deeply.

  “You are nothing like the Infernal King,” Valor added.

  Wily couldn’t help but smile. Her words seemed to lift a heavy burden from his shoulders.

  “And thanks for your help back there,” Valor said.

  “Of course,” Wily said. Then he said something that surprised him. “It’s what friends do for each other.”

  “You know, I really want to stay angry at you,” Valor said with a grin. “But you’re making it very hard.”

  18

  NEARLY BELOW

  Wily wasn’t sure how long they had been wandering through the maze of tunnels, but the candle was now not much more than a puddle of wax and a wick.

  “This is new,” Valor said, pointing to a patch of pale green vegetation dangling from the ceiling. “At least we know that we’re not going in circles.”

  “I’ve actually never seen anything like this before,” Wily said. “It’s not cave moss or lichen or even a fern.” Wily looked closer at the tuft until he was sure. “I think it’s grass,” Wily said.

  “Growing on the ceiling?” Valor asked. “In a tunnel hundreds, if not thousands, of feet below the ground?” She stretched on her tippy-toes to g
et a proper look herself. “It doesn’t make any sense,” she added. “Grass needs sunlight to grow.”

  “Or an upside-down sun’s light,” Wily said.

  He covered the top of the candle with his hand. In the dimness, he could see there was another source of light glowing softly from down the tunnel.

  “The Below,” Valor and Wily said in unison.

  The two moved swiftly in the direction of the glow. Wily had never seen a light quite like this underground. It was warm and yellow, not so different from the rays of the sun shining through a distant, milky window. As they progressed, the grass on the roof of the cave tunnel got thicker and the light grew brighter.

  Ahead, hanging from one of the green blades, was a white sphere about the size of a human head. Wily didn’t need to get any closer to recognize it was an egg. But not a hard egg like a bird’s or reptile’s; this one was soft and gooey like the eggs of a giant spider. Wily looked around for more of the dangling eggs.

  When he turned back to the first, it was gone.

  “That can’t be good,” Wily said.

  Out from the walls, ants the size of wolves began to emerge. They snapped their pincers as their antennae waved wildly in the air.

  “What are they?” Valor asked as she backed away.

  “I thought you would know,” Wily said. “You’re the quellmaster.”

  “And you’re the one who’s lived underground his whole life.”

  “Never seen them before,” Wily admitted as he retreated.

  “Congratulations to us both,” Valor said. “We just discovered a new animal.”

  “I’m not feeling very excited by our find right now,” Wily said as the large ants approached.

  “I’ll give you the honor of naming the species,” Valor said as she slipped her wooden claws on.

  “Wolf ants,” Wily said.

  “I think you can do better than that,” Valor said.

  Wily looked at the incoming swarm, snapping the air with their pincers. “Razor-beaked death ants?”

  “That’s accurate enough, I guess,” Valor said.

  Wily could hear more ants approaching from every direction. They were surrounded with nowhere to turn.

  “What about ‘ambush ants’?” he volunteered.