Arthur’s fingers shook as he wrote it as clearly as he could on the duck’s breast. Dropping the marker on the floor, he secured the duck to the rope and began to pull. With every stroke of his arms, he was reminded of the ticking hands on his watch. If they messed up this challenge, they’d find themselves back where they started with little chance of returning home before the universe went into auto-correct…
His heart leaped as another duck slid by on the rope. It had to be Cecily’s – she was stationed a couple of carriages down from him.
Light returned through the window as the train rocketed clear of the tunnel. Still tugging on the rope, Arthur stuck his head outside and got a face full of wind. His pulse quickened as he watched the Menlo Express race towards a junction in the tracks. Come on, Ren. You’ve got this. Up ahead, the strange signal box that Milo had drawn was planted in the dry land, several metres from the side of the track. Three paddles numbered 18, 34 and 72 protruded from its right-hand side.
Arthur had no idea which was the correct one. He tensed as an arrow streaked through the air and hit the number seventy-two squarely in the middle. The paddle spun around like a wind turbine …
… and, with a loud creak, the tracks shifted. Arthur felt the floor jerk as the train switched over. “Yes, Ren!” he cheered, releasing his grip on the rope and running towards the front of the train.
His whole body felt lighter as he dashed through each carriage. When he got to the driver’s cab, Milo and Cloud were already there, celebrating. Ren’s cheeks were flushed. “Thanks,” she mumbled, when Arthur congratulated her. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt more pressure in my whole life.”
Cecily arrived to further cheers and delirious barking from Cloud. Arthur felt so proud of them all. They’d started off barely able to work together as a team, and now look at them…
The train rumbled on for a few minutes before it started to slow. A station appeared in the distance, drawing closer. It was similar in design to the one they’d left behind at the fairground, with bright lights outlining its structure like a vanity mirror.
As the Menlo Express came to a stop alongside the platform, a ball of red mist materialized in the driver’s cab and a realm-key fell into Milo Hertz’s waiting hands. Staring down at it, he swallowed. Arthur could see emotion shining in his pale grey eyes. “I’ve dreamed about this moment for four years,” he said slowly. “Thanks to you three, it’s really happening. I’m finally getting out of here.”
As they stepped onto the platform, Ren drew her bow. “Since you’ve never made it this far, there might still be active T-class units here,” she said, turning left and right.
Arthur scanned the place warily. Save for a jukebox vending machine flashing wildly at the opposite end, it was eerily deserted. He and the others wandered under a portico and into a large wood-panelled hall with a high white ceiling. Shelves lined the walls, filled with an odd assortment of machine parts – giant plastic tubes, camera lenses, metal cylinders, wooden cogs, intricate glass dials and reels of wire – Arthur even spied a rubber car horn. In the centre of the room were two devices he recognized from his project on Edison. Used for recording and playing sound, a shiny brass phonograph sat on a table beside a large wooden cabinet with a peephole viewer at the top – a kinetoscope, an early device that allowed people to view motion pictures. Sunlight fell through a bay window that opened onto a terrace at the back.
Cloud pushed his nose against the floor and gave it a sniff.
“Where are we?” Cecily asked, venturing outside.
Following at her shoulder, Arthur passed a well-worn leather armchair beside a coffee table. Upon it was a scale model of the entire railway, featuring a miniature version of the fairground, the mountain tunnel, the track junction and the Menlo Express. Small sections of the model lay scattered across the table’s surface like board game pieces. It was almost as if someone had been sitting there, redesigning it.
When Arthur stepped into the sunlight, he gasped. The terrace overlooked a busy street corner where old-fashioned motorcars rumbled along the roads and mimics in wide-brimmed hats and long raincoats swished past. A few blocks away, behind a multi-storey apartment building, the top half of the Empire State Building rose into the sky.
This wasn’t any old city, it was New York.
“Those are definitely T-classes,” Ren said, staring down the shaft of an arrow. “We need to find a Wonderway and get out of here.”
Behind them, footsteps thumped against the floorboards. “Who are you?” an American voice asked sternly. “How did you get here?”
Arthur spun around to see an older gentleman in a dark suit and burgundy bow tie rushing towards them. He had bushy brows, neatly parted wispy white hair and intelligent blue-green eyes.
“Mr Edison?” Arthur exclaimed.
The man stopped a few metres short of them. “That’s correct.” He squinted. “Wait… Are you the Flying Pipsqueaks I’ve been seeing on the Wondernews?”
Arthur cringed. It was embarrassing enough being called a Pipsqueak in the Wondernews, let alone having a legend from human history address you that way.
“Sir, it’s an honour to meet you,” Milo Hertz said, extending his hand.
“I know you too,” Edison muttered angrily. “You’re one of the founders of Hxperion, just like Tiburon Nox!”
“But Milo’s one of the good guys!” Cecily blurted. “Please, we’re on a mission to stop Tiburon and get home before we turn into slime. Can you lead us to a Wonderway? We don’t have much time.”
Edison skimmed their faces. “How can I trust that you’re not working with Tiburon? He has agents everywhere. This could all be a trap. For four years I’ve been here on my own and that train has never pulled into the station…”
Arthur could hear the frustration in Edison’s voice. After everything the inventor had likely been through in the Wonderscape, Arthur suspected it would take more than words to convince him of their sincerity. “What if we could show you that we’re telling the truth?” Arthur said, remembering he still had M-73’s neuro-processor in his rucksack. He unshouldered his bag, loosened the top and tipped the contents onto the floor. Amid the crumpled exercise books, pencils and crisp wrappers, M-73’s neuro-processor glowed like a magic jewel. “This belonged to an M-class mimic – you won’t have met any, but they look like Milo. It contains recordings that prove he and Tiburon aren’t on the same side.”
Edison took the neuro-processor suspiciously and shut his eyelids. A split second later, they flicked open. “How many other people have seen these recordings?” he blustered.
Arthur deduced from his reaction that mimics were able to view the memories at a faster speed than humans. “Nobody yet, but that doesn’t mean we’re on our own. All the heroes we’ve met so far have been fighting Hxperion in their own way.”
Cecily glanced at her feet. “One of them even sacrificed herself so we could get this far,” she admitted sadly. “And Wangari Maathai – the last hero we met – she’s the leader of an activist group that was set up to help Milo escape.”
Arthur briefly remembered that Wangari’s team – if they’d successfully managed to leave their own realms – would have found themselves in the wrong realm to save Milo. That meant it was up to him, Ren and Cecily to get Milo safely out of there and give him the best possible chance of vanquishing his brother once he’d sent them home.
“I’d hoped other heroes were trying to fight back,” Edison murmured, “but I wasn’t sure. Everything I know about the Wonderscape I’ve learned from reading the Wondernews or through my own private study.” His brows drew together. “Follow me.”
He returned M-73’s neuro-processor to Milo and led them through a set of double doors into another hall. Standing in the middle of the floor was a gloomy black Wonderway frame surrounded by a mass of tangled wires, small copper pipes and metal coils, all connected to some sort of wooden switchboard, set up on a nearby table. “You’ll have to excuse the mess,” Ediso
n said, stepping carefully over a length of insulated cable. “I’ve been experimenting.”
Milo scrutinized the equipment. “This looks like some sort of … communications device.”
Mr Edison nodded. “I’ve been developing a machine that will transmit Morse code through a Wonderway, in order to communicate with other heroes.”
“Does it work?” Arthur questioned, marvelling at Edison’s resourcefulness and ingenuity. If it did, he had an idea how it might help them.
“Theoretically, yes,” the inventor replied. “But I won’t know for sure until after you’ve left. When you insert your realm-key into the Wonderway, it should be like turning the ignition in a motor car – my device will harness the power of the Wonderway’s ‘engine’ in order to fuel itself.”
“Remarkable,” Milo commented, poring over the switchboard. “And you’ve used a non-conductive buffer to counter the electromagnetic pulse – such a neat solution.” He explained to the others, “Wonderways emit bursts of electromagnetic energy when you pass through them that can disrupt electronic equipment.”
Ren touched her trouser pocket. “That’s why our phones haven’t been working, isn’t it? Every time we travelled through a Wonderway, they got zapped.”
Arthur wanted to understand more, but he could sense time slipping away. “Mr Edison, if your machine does work, would you be able to send a message to Wangari Maathai for us, and tell her what’s happened?”
“And the other heroes we’ve met,” Cecily added hastily. She grabbed a pen and sheet of paper off a table and scribbled the necessary names and realm numbers.
Edison assessed them thoughtfully. “I will do my best. Which realm are you off to now?”
“Eighteen,” Milo said, tapping it into the Wonderway keypad. The inventor made a note on the same sheet, and Milo inserted the realm-key.
Assembled before the Wonderway, they all took a step back as fingers of blue smoke curled around the frame and grew into a twisting mass. A grey stone door appeared in the middle.
“I really hope that’s not blood,” Cecily said, signalling towards a suspicious red stain at the foot of the door.
Arthur swallowed as he got ready to walk through. He glanced at his watch. Their window was closing.
24
Rain pattered against the grey stone cobbles. Arthur pulled up the hood of his Wondercloak and peered out at the narrow street ahead. Tightly packed buildings with sharp roofs rose several storeys high on either side. Behind their ground-floor windows, displays of Hxperion-branded souvenirs sat in the dark.
Cloud growled and dipped his paw into a puddle, distorting the reflection of the foggy sky above. “I don’t think the Fuzzball likes this place,” Ren commented, crouching to give him a reassuring stroke.
Cecily tucked her plait inside her hood. The sunflowers on her cloak were already dripping. “Where is everyone? I expected this realm to be full of wanderers.”
Arthur surveyed their surroundings. The place was as deserted as Naeres, which gave him a bad feeling. Given Tiburon’s headquarters were located there, Arthur had thought the realm would be busy. He wondered if the lack of people suggested that Tiburon might be expecting them…
“This is the first time I’ve felt rain in four years,” Milo shared unexpectedly. He was holding his face up to the clouds, letting the raindrops run over his cheeks and trickle down his neck. “It’s only ever dry on Naeres.” A smile spread across his face as he enjoyed the downpour for a moment longer, before fixing his attention on the road. “Tiburon designed this realm to resemble Ingolstadt,” he told them as they walked. “It’s a medieval town in Germany where Victor Frankenstein goes to university.”
Arthur didn’t know anything about medieval architecture, but the zigzagging wooden beams and looming bell towers definitely gave off a fairy-tale vibe. Tiburon’s plus-sign cross was everywhere – patterned into the cobbles and inlaid on the building sides, a creepy reminder that they were heading straight into the lion’s den.
“I don’t know what changes my brother’s made to this realm since I last visited,” Milo admitted. “I assume Mary Shelley is here now, somewhere…” His brows drew together, like he was conflicted about the prospect of possibly meeting her.
At the end of the path they turned into a cobbled square lined with more shops and restaurants. A three-tiered fountain decorated with terracotta tiles bubbled away in the centre. There were a few T-class mimics dressed in fur-trimmed tunics scuttling around, collecting rubbish, but they didn’t appear to pay Arthur and the others any attention. Arthur unconsciously touched the back of his wrist, where his shadow patch was stuck. It had to still be working. As the rain fell harder, the group retreated under a café awning for shelter.
“So where’s the third time-key?” Arthur asked Milo. “Is it close?”
Before Milo could answer, Cecily threw her arm out, pointing to a nearby shop window. “Over there, look!” A ghoulish message hovered behind the glass in letters made of red gas. The words were slightly blurred by the rain, but Arthur could easily read what they said:
WONDERSCPE
REALM 18: CASTLE OF THE DOCTOR
Loot: 1500 DIRT and realm-key
Travel with wonder,
Moments later, a riddle scroll fell with a splash into a puddle by their feet. Arthur wiped it dry on his Wondercloak before unfurling it so the others could read the neat, elegant handwriting:
Hidden in this stormy city
Is a creature you should pity.
Seek the centre of the maze
Through the deadly mist and haze.
There is nowhere you can hide
From the monster deep inside.
“So, there’s some sort of Frankenstein-themed maze here?” Ren noted in a gloomy tone. “Sounds lovely.”
Milo cringed. “About that…”
“Please don’t tell us the time-key is in the maze,” Arthur begged. With time running out, it was the worst possible challenge he could think of.
“It isn’t in the maze, exactly,” Milo replied awkwardly. “The time-key is in Frankenstein’s lab, in the university. But the university is surrounded by the maze. You three will have to get to the centre of it in order to retrieve the time-key and go home.”
“What do you mean, us three?” Ren asked. “Aren’t you entering the maze with us? If you’ve done the challenge before, you’ll know how to succeed.”
Water dripped from Milo’s hair as he shook his head. “That’s just it – because I’ve completed the task before, I can’t do it again. It’s one of the Wonderscape’s rules: realm-challenges become ‘locked’ once you’ve finished them. The maze won’t let me enter. I have to access Frankenstein’s lab a different way.”
Cecily bit her lip. “I don’t suppose you can just fetch the time-key for us and meet us back here?”
“Afraid not,” Milo replied, offering her a sympathetic smile. “The closest Wonderway is also in Frankenstein’s lab, so you’ll have to make it through the maze anyway in order to get home.” Shadows flickered in his grey eyes, like he was recalling an unpleasant memory. “You must be careful. Mary Shelley’s novel is all about loneliness, so the only way to beat the maze is to navigate it individually. It’s designed to test your greatest fear.”
Our greatest fears. Arthur shivered, trying to decide what his might be. Right now, he could think of lots of fears – being hit by a swinging boulder, having exploding perfume bottles thrown at him, being shot at by a rocket launcher – the list went on. Probably the greatest among them was being turned to slime and never seeing his dad again.
Milo positioned himself a healthy distance away, then beckoned Cloud over and got to his knees to fiddle with Cloud’s collar. “Cloud and I will fly in, over the top. I’ll meet you in Victor Frankenstein’s lab. It’s north of here.”
And just like that, he was lifted into the air on the back of a huge green dragon. Cloud’s scales glittered like emeralds. Her wings gave a loud thud as she stretched
them out, filling them with air. “And hurry,” Milo called down. “There’s no time to lose!”
Arthur, Ren and Cecily shrank back as Cloud beat her wings, spraying them with water. Arthur had been riding her the last time she’d taken off, so he had no idea how impressive it was to see a dragon take flight. Cloud did a running jump, her claws striking the flagstones, and then, with one pull of her wings, launched into the sky.
“There’s no time to lose,” Ren repeated grumpily, watching Cloud fade into the mist. “Like we don’t know that already.”
Cecily nodded to the other side of the square. “Well, north is that way, but I don’t think we need my Wonderskill to help direct us to the university.” She gazed into the distance. “I’m guessing that’s it.”
Rising over the rooftops of the town, several pointed black spires pierced the fog. Arthur could just see the grey stone walls of a castle looming in the mist. With its narrow stained-glass windows and round turrets, it looked more like a fortress than a place to go to school, but Arthur drew his hands into fists, feeling a surge of determination. “Let’s go.”
They hurried through the damp, deserted town until they came to the banks of a stagnant moat. It was crossed by a bridge decorated with winged statues. On the other side, an imposing barbican with an arched gothic roof and a black portcullis led into the university. Arthur searched the battlements for Milo and Cloud, but couldn’t spot them. He hoped they’d made it safely.
As they approached the bridge, it became clear that the winged statues were gargoyles. Most of them had fangs for teeth, gnarled skin and bony bodies. “I don’t remember these from the film,” Arthur said, as the eyes of a particularly gruesome creature seemed to follow him. “Tiburon Nox must have added them in.”
After passing through the barbican, the labyrinth came into sight. Its imposing black stone walls looked at least five metres tall and they were covered in moss too slippery to climb. The entrance was marked by two more gargoyles, who sat facing each other, their teeth bared. Beyond, a cobbled path was clouded with fog so thick, you couldn’t see further than a few paces inside.
Wonderscape Page 21
