Finders Keepers

by Peter Speakman

  “I have been waiting a long time to see you again,” the undying conjurer said above the din of electric jolts.

  “And I’ve been ready,” said Professor Ellison. With sudden swiftness she raised an amulet shaped like an ankh from her bag. Dust from the floor of the catacombs swirled around Vesiroth’s feet and the dark wizard grabbed at his throat.

  “Like it?” Ellison said as she took a step toward him, the amulet held high. “It was carved from a piece of the Great Sphinx of Giza. I searched for it for years and years and I don’t even want to tell you how much it cost.”

  Vesiroth struggled for breath. His eyes began to bulge.

  “It’s sucking the air out of your lungs. Even an eternal wizard has to breathe.”

  Vesiroth sank to his knees.

  “It’s time, Vesiroth. Let go. Leave this world behind and find peace.”

  The wizard’s eyes bored into Ellison, his hatred fueling his mad desire to survive. His fingers found the spike around his neck. With a thrust of his arm the wizard used his magic to snatch Ellison off of the ground and hurl her against the wall of the catacombs. The ankh was knocked out of her hand to vanish in the dark.

  Professor Ellison could feel the bones on the wall digging into her back as Vesiroth took a deep breath of stale air. Finally he got to his feet and approached her.

  Parker saw Vesiroth moving slowly toward the professor. “Help her, Fon-Rahm!”

  The genie turned his attention away from Duncan. In the split second the genie wasn’t attacking him, Duncan saw his chance. “Nice meeting you, Parker,” he said as he spawned a razor-sharp battle-ax and heaved it straight at Parker’s face.

  18

  FIVE MINUTES AGO PARKER HAD thought he was going to be crushed to jelly in a room filled with talking skulls. Now he was pretty sure the lethal ax slicing through the air was going to be the last thing he’d see before he died. He couldn’t decide which was worse.

  But right before the blade cleaved Parker’s head in two, Fon-Rahm grabbed it and swung it at Vesiroth. The scarred wizard turned his attention away from Ellison just in time to catch the speeding battle-ax between his hands. It didn’t cut him but the force of the blow sent Vesiroth flying.

  Ellison dropped off the wall. She hit the floor hard, gasping for breath. Parker and Fon-Rahm ran to her.

  “Are you injured?” the genie asked.

  “No, I’m…I didn’t realize he would be so strong. Even at a fraction of his full power he’s strong.”

  “Hold it together, Professor,” said Parker. “We’re going to need you if we want to survive this.”

  “I fear we are in for more trouble,” said Fon-Rahm, holding his wounded left arm by his side.

  Parker and Professor Ellison followed his gaze. As Vesiroth staggered to his feet, the Path member collapsed, one of Duncan’s gleaming knives protruding from his chest. The sacrifice had done his duty. He had opened the lamp and been killed to ensure the released genie could act with free will.

  The open canister pulsed with light. A green fog rolled out one end. The damp air of the catacombs was filled with the scent of sulfur and rotting flesh.

  Duncan knew danger when he saw it. He took a step back from the lamp.

  Vesiroth took a step forward.

  The scarred wizard peered into the canister. All at once a swarm of wasps erupted from the lamp and filled the air around him. Fon-Rahm threw a protective electric dome over Professor Ellison and Parker as the flying insects took over the tunnel. They choked the empty eye sockets of the skulls in the walls and covered the ceiling of the catacombs. Parker put his hands over his ears and screamed. The droning sound alone was enough to drive a person mad.

  Vesiroth cried out, “Genie! Eleventh of the Jinn! You were created from my life force and I am your master. Obey me!”

  At the sound of the wizard’s words the buzzing insects gathered around him in a swirling vortex of wings and stingers.

  “You know, Fon-Rahm,” said Parker, clutching the broken piece of the Elicuum Helm to his chest, “I’m really glad I stole your lamp instead of that one.”

  Fon-Rahm nodded grimly as the wasps formed themselves into the shape of a man. This was the genie Qen-Noh, a monster made completely of stinging insects.

  The three kids hit the Merritts’ living room with their energy turned up to eleven. The adults looked up in confusion as the parade ran around the card table in a ball of roiling weirdness.

  “Come on, kids, we’re trying to play cards here!” said Martha.

  J.T. said, “I knew it was too quiet up there.”

  “What the heck do you guys think you’re doing?” asked Kelsey.

  “We’re making a movie!” said Reese.

  Naomi held her arms up and moaned some more. She was wearing Parker’s sneakers, his jeans, and his sweatshirt with the hood pulled over Theo’s old latex Frankenstein mask. Her fingers were hidden under oversized green Hulk hands. Any evidence of a twelve-year-old girl was well hidden.

  “Parker, you’re looking a little green,” said his mother.

  J.T. added, “I think he looks better than normal.”

  “Come on,” said Theo. “You guys have to act scared! You’re being terrorized by a monster!”

  Martha, Kathleen, and Kelsey were game to play along with halfhearted shrieks. J.T. just shook his head and watched what was supposed to be Parker jump around.

  Theo wished Naomi would take it down a notch. But she was having a blast. She even tried to pick up a bowl of chocolate-covered peanuts with her clumsy Hulk hands.

  “Okay, okay, don’t get carried away,” said Martha, gently taking the candy away from her. “I don’t want to be vacuuming crushed chocolate out of the rug for the rest of my life.”

  “Go downstairs! We’ll use the basement as a dungeon,” Reese said, hoping to move things along.

  Naomi-as-Parker let out a low grunt and loped toward the stairs that led to the basement. Theo was right behind her, doing his best to get in between her and the card table.

  “Try not to make too much noise down there,” said Kathleen, going back to her cards.

  We did it, Reese thought. We got away with it! She trailed her friends to the stairs.

  And then J.T. spoke up. “Wait,” he said. “Parker. Get back here. Now.”

  All three kids froze in their tracks. They’d known it was too easy.

  Naomi turned slowly around and did her best Frankenstein walk back to the living room. Reese and Theo had no idea what they were going to say when J.T. ripped the mask off Naomi’s head. They could only hope that Naomi was better at talking her way out of trouble than they were.

  Naomi stopped just a few feet from J.T. He squinted at the mask and leaned back in his seat.

  This is it, thought Reese. This is how it all comes crashing down.

  Then J.T. reached into his pocket for his own phone. He took a picture of Naomi and beamed. “That’s my new wallpaper,” he said.

  Naomi gave one last monster grunt before she limped straight-legged after Theo and Reese.

  When they were safely in the basement Reese let out a sigh of relief. “I thought we were nailed for sure!”

  Naomi shook off the huge green foam hands and pulled off her monster mask. Her face was dripping with sweat and she was wearing a huge grin.

  “We have got to hang out more often. You guys are so much fun!”

  Theo groaned and collapsed on the Ping-Pong table.

  The wasp genie Qen-Noh was a horrifying image in the torchlit catacombs underneath Paris. It held a human shape, shaking with the vibrations of countless beating wings and the clatter of insects crawling over each other. It had been trapped for thousands of years in its metal lamp and now that it was out it was restless and ready to move. It was torture for the thing to wait for the weakened wizard Vesiroth’s command. But Qen-Noh was not like his brother genies Fon-Rahm, or Xaru, or even Syphus. Every genie created was a paler and more distorted version of its original creator, Vesirot
h. Fon-Rahm, the first of the Jinn, had an intellect and a will of his own. Qen-Noh was one of the last created. It was a mindless horror born to follow commands and created simply to obey.

  Vesiroth raised his open hand to his new ally. When he pointed at Parker, Fon-Rahm, and Professor Ellison, the wasp genie took one look at his prey and swarmed after them.

  “Run!” Fon-Rahm didn’t have to tell Ellison or Parker twice. They were already on their way down the dark tunnel.

  Fon-Rahm followed behind them. His left arm hung useless at his side so he used his right to throw bolts of blue lighting backward at Qen-Noh. The blasts went right through the cloud of wasps, doing more damage to the skulls lining the catacomb walls than to the enemy genie.

  Duncan was fascinated by the wasp genie. It was magnificent, the ultimate magic weapon. He wanted desperately to run after Qen-Noh, but Vesiroth was barely standing and Duncan was forced to help the wizard along.

  “I am not certain Qen-Noh can be stopped,” cried Fon-Rahm as he ran with the professor and Parker down the bone-lined corridors. “I cannot assure your safety.”

  “Yeah, I don’t feel particularly safe,” said Parker. “What happens if they sting us?”

  “Nothing good, I assume. I have no choice but to make my stand here. Prepare yourselves.” As the wasps swarmed around them, Fon-Rahm planted himself in the middle of the tunnel and became the world’s largest bug zapper. He killed as many flying insects as he could, but no matter how many were burned alive, there were always more. The smell of fried wasps was acrid and horrible.

  Vesiroth and Duncan finally caught up to them. Fon-Rahm’s time was running out. “Vesiroth comes!” the genie said. “You must find a way out of this tomb!”

  As Fon-Rahm reduced the endless waves of flying insects to ash, Professor Ellison turned to a wall weakened by a stray bolt of lightning and began to bash at it with a loose brick. “A little help, please!” Parker joined her, digging at the wall with his bare hands. Professor Ellison squeezed through the ragged opening and pulled Parker in behind her. Parker turned back for his genie. “Fon-Rahm, come on! This way!”

  The genie heard his master’s command. Leaving a net of crackling lightning behind him, he climbed through the wall and collapsed at Parker’s feet.

  Parker’s heart sank. “This is no good. We’re trapped!” They were in a sealed crypt with no exit on any side. Robed skeletons roped to the walls stood watch over more skulls and bones. They were cornered.

  A manic buzzing drew their attention to the hole in the wall. It was Qen-Noh forcing himself through. For a moment, the tornado of wasps gathered themselves into human form again. The buzzing insects shaped themselves into a twisted version of Fon-Rahm’s face and screamed an insect drone.

  “Fon-Rahm, buddy, we need you!”

  “I…I am not…”

  The genie was clutching his left arm to his chest. He was clearly in pain and confused. Parker was shocked. He had never seen Fon-Rahm so helpless. Parker stared in horror at the wasp genie. No one was going to save them now. It was up to him.

  He raised the shard of the Elicuum Helm to the side of his head.

  Professor Ellison barely had time to blurt out “Parker, no!” before Parker seized up. A black tentacle sprang from the broken helmet, searching the vault for a source of negative energy. The wasp-eyes of Qen-Noh’s face followed the black arm as it wove through the air and finally lashed out. It surrounded the swarm of wasps in an oozing black cocoon. The never-ending buzzing stopped as the inky goo absorbed the life from the genie.

  When it was over the tendril returned to the broken shard of the Helm. Parker pried it off his head and threw it aside, but the damage was done. He collapsed onto the dirt.

  “Parker!” Fon-Rahm tried to rouse his master. They needed to get out of the catacombs while they still could.

  In the corridor, Duncan felt his boss start to convulse. He had seen this movie before. He knew that the wasp genie had been destroyed and that its life force was returning to Vesiroth. He dropped the wizard and dove through the hole in the wall just as Vesiroth lost all control and released a shock wave of pure energy that ripped through the tunnels shattering skulls and bone into dust.

  Fon-Rahm looked up to see Duncan enter the vault. Ellison was clutching her bag to her chest and Parker was shaking from his experience with the Helm. They were sitting ducks.

  Duncan saw his chance. Hatchets appeared in both of his hands. He had Parker dead in his sights.

  19

  PARKER SQUINTED UP INTO A BRIGHT LIGHT. It was round, and it was coming straight toward him. He found it mesmerizing.

  “Look out!”

  Professor Ellison yanked Parker out of the way just before the motorcycle smashed right into him.

  Parker blinked in amazement. They were out of the catacombs and plopped down in the middle of a riotously busy, insanely dusty street. Horns blasted and engines roared as a stream of buses, motorbikes, scooters, trucks, and yellow taxis swerved around them. Professor Ellison, Fon-Rahm, and Parker had to Frogger their way through the impatient traffic and to safety.

  When they reached the side of the road Parker gawked at the chaos of machines and pedestrians. After the murk of the catacombs, the lights were blinding. There were billboards advertising Coke and signs for telecom companies in a language Parker didn’t even recognize. Weird smells hung in the air. He was dumbfounded. “Where are we?”

  Professor Ellison barely glanced at the bedlam that surrounded them. “If I had to guess I would say Calcutta.”

  “We’re in India? But how—”

  “I warned you that teleportation is dangerous,” said Fon-Rahm. “I have little control over the outcome of such a desperate gamble. In my condition I suppose we should count ourselves lucky we are on the correct planet.”

  “Your arm!” Parker cried. “Are you okay?”

  “I fear I am not.” Fon-Rahm carefully pulled open his robes to reveal a pulsing mess of blue-black lines that spiderwebbed from the angry wound on his arm up his shoulder and onto the side of his neck. “My injuries grow more severe.”

  “Magic wounds can be tricky business.” Professor Ellison stared at the damage on Fon-Rahm’s side. “The infection is a by-product of your broken bond with Parker. If I had to guess, I would say it spreads when you use your magic. You’ll have to be more careful from now on.”

  “I cannot afford to be careful.” Fon-Rahm winced as he pulled his robes closed. “None of us can.”

  “Vesiroth is as scary as you said he was. That face…” Parker shuddered. “And that kid really has it in for me. What did I ever do to him?”

  “Kid?” Ellison snorted. “Duncan Murloch is almost as old as I am.”

  “But he—”

  “Duncan was once a very cunning wizard. He was also obsessed with the idea that he could make himself young again. But something went wrong with his spell and when the smoke cleared instead of being twenty again, he was ten. He’s been trying to put himself right for two or three hundred years.”

  “Yeah, well, whatever that kid is, he’s bad news.”

  Professor Ellison frowned. “There’s worse news. In all the excitement we seem to have left the shard of the Elicuum Helm behind.” She glared at the genie. “Your all-powerful friend here decided your safety was more important than securing one of the deadliest weapons the world has ever known.”

  “Parker’s security was my primary concern.”

  “Of course it was. How rude of me. What’s the fate of humanity compared to one seventh grader’s well-being?”

  “Guys, I don’t mean to…” Parker stopped mid-sentence.

  “What is it? What’s wrong with you now?” Ellison snapped.

  “I don’t feel great.”

  Fon-Rahm caught Parker as he collapsed to the sidewalk. He was pale and sweating. His eyes were unfocused.

  Ellison watched with an air of ambivalence. “It’s an effect of the broken Helm. If he had kept it up for another twenty
seconds it would have killed him.”

  “I want to go home,” Parker said.

  “What a shame my lovely car is five thousand miles away.” Professor Ellison hoisted her bag and began to walk. “We’ll have to make do with something else.”

  Instead of killing Parker, Duncan’s hatchets shattered the skull of one of the skeletal guards in the vault. One second Parker, the genie Fon-Rahm, and Professor Ellison were there and the next they were simply gone. It must have been the genie. Even Vesiroth didn’t have that kind of power.

  And then something caught his eye in the dust. It was the shard of the Elicuum Helm. The night wasn’t such a loss after all. He bent over to pick it up but before he could even touch it he heard a voice behind him.

  “Stand aside.”

  Duncan stood up and stepped away so Vesiroth could reach down for the brass relic himself. He picked up the shard with a shaking hand.

  “Only one piece more.” His eyes glowed with new energy. “Soon the world will be mine.”

  “As long as you remember our agreement,” Duncan said.

  “I have not forgotten. When this is over I will make you twenty again. I am a man of my word.”

  “If you say so, boss.”

  Vesiroth barely glanced back as he took his prize and crawled out through the hole in the wall. The Elicuum Helm was a waste of time, his second-in-command thought. The real power was in the Jinn. Duncan wondered what kind of damage he could cause with a genie of his own.

  20

  PARKER USUALLY ENJOYED BLASTING through the air with Fon-Rahm.

  The genie could make anything fly. The first time he took Parker, Reese, and Theo up he used a kitchen-floor-sized piece of linoleum. Lately they rode in his Toyota, looking out the windows at the oceans and mountains and cities below them in all the luxury provided by a mid-priced Japanese sedan. Now they were flying the friendly skies in a rickety Hindustan Ambassador sedan that someone had attacked with lime-green house paint. Parker was laid in the car’s stained backseat. He was as sick as he had ever been in his life. Cold sweat covered his face. He shook uncontrollably. He was nauseous and weak. If he made it out of this alive, he thought, he would never make fun of Theo’s motion sickness again.