by Bryan Davis
While they drove, Mom told Darcy a few stories about her adventures, beginning with her recent escape from jail then shifting back several years to when the Enforcers hunted for her and Dad in order to kidnap their twins. During those precarious days, they sometimes communicated using sign language when they suspected that their dwelling had been bugged. Walter and Ashley learned the language as well so they could make plans in silence and in secret.
Mom then focused on her dark hours trapped inside the candlestone, apparently hoping to encourage Darcy with the amazing tale of protection and rescue from what seemed to be an impossibly forsaken dungeon. When Mom mentioned meeting Sir Barlow there, she told tales of his steadfast courage. Matt added the details about how Colonel Baxter shot Sir Barlow and how they were both transluminated. To this day no one knew what happened to them.
“While I was in prison,” Mom said, “I had a vivid dream about Sir Barlow. He had a romantic interest in Tamara, a former dragon. It seemed like a perfect match. Tamara has difficulty speaking, and Sir Barlow loves to talk, and if anyone needs a good woman at his side, it’s Sir Barlow. The last time I saw them I got the impression that they’re lonely for companionship. And since they are both centuries old . . .” She finished with a smile.
“How romantic that would be!” Darcy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I love a good romance story. If only everyone could find the perfect person for them.”
“Yeah,” Matt said. “That would be great, but maybe not everyone needs another person.”
Mom and Darcy sat quietly, as if not knowing how to respond.
Following the phone’s directions, Matt turned onto a dirt road, barely wide enough for two cars. A thick cluster of trees lay about a mile ahead, apparently a dense forest that looked like an oasis in this wilderness of marshlands. Based on the GPS map, the cluster had to be their destination.
He stopped the car a couple of hundred yards short of the forest. “No buildings in sight.”
Darcy picked up the phone and scrolled across the screen. “We didn’t miss any texts, and we’re getting a signal.”
“Then we’ll just go on.” Matt pressed the gas pedal. As they drew near the forest, his danger sensation skyrocketed. Something sinister lay within those woods. “Mom. Darcy. My meter’s clicking in red zone. Just letting you know.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open,” Mom said. “We have to go on.”
When they entered the forest, the overhead canopy veiled the sun. The road weaved around dark water and cypress trees. Their trunks looked like crooked forks poking into the marshy soil. After a couple of miles, the road ended at a tree-lined path, too narrow for the car to navigate.
Matt stopped and shut off the engine. “I guess we go on foot.”
“How’s your danger meter now?” Mom asked.
He laid a hand on his stomach. “About as bad as it gets.” He slid the phone into his pocket and opened the door. “Let’s go.”
As they hiked the path, Matt led the way. He grabbed hanging vines and jerked them down, though they really weren’t an obstacle. Exposed roots crisscrossed the uneven ground, becoming more numerous as the trail meandered through the darkening forest.
After several minutes, the path led up a slope and into a clearing. Grass spread across a quarter-acre expanse, nearly choked with dandelions and thistles. A four-story house constructed with huge red and yellow stones and gray mortar stood at the center, more like a castle than a normal home. The stones, along with the sun’s light, gave the entire house an orange hue.
“A house on a hill,” Mom whispered. “Like Morgan’s.”
Matt walked between a pair of tall gardenia bushes and up to the front wall. He touched a thick vine that zigzagged along gaps between stones from the ground to a parapet at the roof’s edge. “This place has been here a very long time.”
“No doubt.” Mom ran her foot along the grass. “It seems familiar.”
Darcy picked up a shiny penny. “The date is last year. Someone has been here recently.”
“Good find.” Matt stepped to a window and grasped one of five black iron bars running vertically in front of the opening. With no glass or frame, the window mimicked a medieval castle’s venting hole. “Can’t get in this way.”
He sidestepped to a massive wooden door and turned a black knob that looked like a beetle, similar to an Egyptian scarab. The door pushed open without a sound. “So much for security.”
“Tamiel’s expecting us,” Mom said.
Matt walked in, Mom and Darcy following. Windows on each wall allowed plenty of red-tinted light into an enormous room. With long rows of blooming flowers and other plants growing from parallel openings in the floor, and with a garden hoe lying between two rows, the place looked like a greenhouse of some kind, though framed paintings on paneled walls and a fireplace on the left gave it the feel of a museum.
He crouched next to the closest flower and touched one of its red petals. “The plants aren’t fake. No one’s taking care of the lawn, but someone must be watering these.”
“They’re poppies.” Darcy pointed at a row of greenery. “And that’s marijuana.”
“So this is a drug farm.” Matt rose and crossed his arms. “The third door. The flyers. Drug users get high.”
“That could be it.” Mom scanned the garden. “I see more parallels to the circles of seven. In the third circle, Morgan sprayed me with a drug when she kidnapped me. And did you notice the doorknob? It looks like the passage beetle that bit Billy in the second circle and sent him to the third.”
Matt nodded. “So the doors are still in parallel with the circles. How can we use that knowledge to our advantage?”
“Maybe we can’t. It’s just too obvious. Probably a red herring, or maybe the parallels are there to remind me of the tortures Billy and I endured. It’s another song killer.” Mom walked fully inside and inhaled deeply. “I recognize the scent.”
Darcy inhaled. “Lilacs?”
“Yes. I smelled them in the place Tamiel imprisoned me.” Mom pointed at the fireplace. “I heard flames crackling over there, so . . .” She marched to an oaken door to the right of the fireplace and touched the front panel. “Tamiel kept me locked up in here.” She laid an ear against it. After a few seconds, she whispered, “I hear something. A voice. But I can’t make out any words.”
Matt hurried to her side. “Another prisoner?”
“Most likely.”
Matt turned the knob and pulled, then pushed, but nothing would budge.
Mom banged on the door with a fist. “Is anyone in there?”
A pair of muffled wails sounded from the other side, one deep and one high-pitched.
“A man and a woman.” Matt thrust his shoulder and hip into the door. Again, it wouldn’t budge. “Tight as a drum.”
Darcy dropped to her knees and peered underneath. “I can’t see anything. The door’s maybe six inches thick. No one could break it down without a battering ram.”
“Let’s find a window to that room.” Matt strode to the interior garden, picked up the hoe, and jogged outside and around the house. When he reached a window on the side, he stopped and looked between its iron bars into a dim room, illuminated only by daylight. Two figures, one wearing jeans and the other a calf-length skirt, hung by their manacled wrists, suspended by chains attached to the ceiling.
Dark bags covered their heads, and their bare feet dangled several inches above a rectangular hole that appeared to be about ten feet long and five feet wide. As the captives twisted one way, then another, water splashed over the edges of the hole and spilled onto the tiled floor.
Matt leaned back and shouted toward the front door. “Mom! Darcy! Over here! Hurry!”
Seconds later, they appeared at the corner and ran to join him. Mom peeked inside. “They can’t survive like that for long.”
“I know. This setup is recent. Tamiel knew when we would get here.”
Darcy looke
d over Mom’s shoulder. “Something must be in that water to make it splash so much.”
“Nothing good, I’m sure.” Matt leaned the hoe against the wall and pushed his shoulder between two bars, but his chest wouldn’t fit. “My name is Matt Bannister!” he shouted. “I’ll get you out of there somehow!”
The male prisoner moaned, and the female grunted several times as if trying to speak.
Matt pulled back from the window. “They must be gagged.”
“I’ll try to slide through.” Mom began shedding her backpack. “I lost a lot of weight in prison, but my wings might get stuck.”
“Maybe I can fit.” Darcy slid her slender arms between two bars. She exhaled and wriggled her chest through, then, bracing on the stone sill while Mom pushed, she thrust her hips past the bars and dropped to her hands and knees on the floor.
“Great work!” Matt pointed at the interior door. “See if you can let us in.”
While Mom continued stripping off her backpack, Darcy leaped up and ran to the door. She grabbed the knob and pulled, then pushed to no avail. She bent over and peered into a keyhole below the knob. “It must be locked. I don’t see a key anywhere.”
Matt picked up the hoe and extended it between two bars. “See if you can get those bags off their heads.”
She hurried back to the window, grabbed the hoe, and walked to the edge of the hole in the floor. Standing on tiptoes, she leaned over the water and pushed the hoe’s handle under the woman’s hood. After three tries, she lifted it over her head. When the hood fell, gray hair spilled down to her shoulders. Muted by a tight gag, she wrestled against her bound hands, her eyes wide as if trying to shout with her expression.
“Mariel!” Mom grasped two bars. “The other one must be Thomas!”
“The missing anthrozils?” Matt asked.
Mom nodded. “I’ve never met them, but I’ve seen photos.”
“Obviously Mariel’s trying to tell us something. I sense danger, but that’s been constant ever since we got here.”
“Mariel can see down into the water.” Mom pushed her face between two bars and shouted, “Darcy! Get away! I think she’s trying to warn you about something!”
Darcy stepped backwards. Something splashed in the water. A serpent-like appendage slithered over the edge of the hole and snaked around her ankle. It jerked her toward the opening and knocked her to her knees. The hoe flew from her hands and clattered to the floor. As the tentacle slowly dragged her toward the water, she lunged for the hoe but merely brushed it with her fingertips.
Matt shook the bars. “Darcy! Hang on!”
“We’ll tie some vines together!” Mom ran toward the woods, but just as she neared the trees, a red dragon swooped down and grabbed her jacket by the shoulders. Flying parallel to the ground, it swept her across the clearing. “Matt!” she screamed as she beat her wings to fight back. “Help!”
“Mom!” Matt sprinted after her, but the dragon lifted her out of reach. Within seconds, the beast had carried her over the tree-tops.
As they began shrinking in the distance, Matt shoved a hand into his pocket and jerked out the car keys. Just as he turned to sprint toward the Mustang, Darcy screamed, “Matt! I can’t fight it much longer!”
He froze, his mind numb. The call sounded like a distant siren, a fire engine wailing in the night—someone else’s concern.
Darcy cried out again. “Matt! Please!”
He shook away the numbness. “I’m coming!” He scooped up some of the vines he had broken earlier. With trembling hands he began tying them together as he lumbered back to the house.
He halted at the window, breathless. His heart raced. Sweat poured. As he glanced at the dwindling forms of his mother and the dragon, he tightened his jaw. He had to focus on his training, not let emotions interfere again—be a soldier, not a boy.
Working quickly, he coiled several yards of the vines into a loop. Inside, Darcy clung to the hole’s edge, only her arms and head visible. As she clawed at the tiles, water splashed over her head and across the floor.
“Catch!” Matt tossed the loop. It fell over her arms. She grabbed it and wound it around her wrist. Bracing his feet against the wall, he leaned back and heaved with his entire body. The vine tightened and twisted. As Darcy clutched the other end, desperately pulling hand over hand, thin vine fibers snapped and curled. She slid forward on a carpet of puddles, her eyes trained on the hoe.
With every inch of progress, Matt regripped the vine and pulled again. Darcy’s chest cleared the edge of the hole, then her waist, legs, and feet, the monster’s tentacle still wrapped around her ankle. Darcy’s facial muscles strained. Both arms stretched. Soon, her hands drew even with the hoe.
Letting go with one hand, she reached for the handle. The vine broke with a loud crack. Matt flew backwards. His head slammed against the ground, and he slid across thistles and sharp grass.
He blinked at the sky as it spun in a swirl of scarlet. The dragon and Mom were nowhere in sight. As dizziness overwhelmed his senses, it seemed that resolve to go on began leaking from his pores.
Then, danger spiked once more. Adrenaline kicked in. Darcy! He flipped over to hands and knees. He crawled back to the window, braced his hands on the opening, and climbed to his feet. Inside, Darcy stood holding the hoe, her shoulders sloped. Blood dripped from the blade, and a foot-long tentacle section lay wriggling next to her foot.
With the hoe’s blade dragging on the floor, she shuffled toward him. Her clothes clung to her thin body, and hair lay plastered across her face. When she bumped into the window frame, she dropped to her knees and whispered a tired, “Thank you.”
“Yeah.” Matt swallowed. No more words would squeeze through his tight throat.
She swiveled back toward Mariel and Thomas, still dangling over the tank. “What’ll we do?”
“I . . . I’m not sure.” Matt grasped a bar tightly. “See if you can get the other hood off and untie their gags. Whatever that monster is, it likely won’t try to grab you again. It doesn’t want to lose another tentacle.”
“Okay. I’ll try.” She peeled a lock of hair away from her eye. “What are you going to do?”
He let his gaze drift to the inner room’s ceiling. The prisoners’ chains passed through holes in the paneling. “I’ll try to find a stairway and see if I can get to the room above this one.”
“Good idea.” Darcy wrapped her fingers around Matt’s hand. “Thank you again for saving me.”
Matt resisted the urge to jerk his hand back. The words you’d have done the same for me came to mind, but they hung in his throat. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
He slid his hand away and ran to the front. When he entered, he scanned the room. The locked door seemed to be the only passage out of this strange greenhouse. The ceiling, consisting mostly of windows, lay well out of reach. The only remaining option seemed to be to climb to an upper floor from the outside. Maybe the windows up there wouldn’t be secured by bars.
Something clicked. The interior door creaked open, and Darcy stepped through the gap holding the hoe and a key ring. “I found this ring in a hole in the wall.”
A barrage of thoughts whisked through Matt’s mind. She just happened to find the keys? Now? When she couldn’t find them before? Had Tamiel orchestrated every event, including a fake monster to keep him from chasing the dragon? Was Darcy part of the conspiracy?
He shook the thoughts away. No time to worry about crazy ideas. He hurried into the room and looked up at the dangling pair, Thomas still hooded and Mariel still gagged.
“I didn’t try to reach them again,” Darcy said. “I found the keys, so I thought I would tell you—”
“You thought right.” Matt walked to the edge of the hole. It appeared to be the top of an enormous aquarium. A pair of huge, sharklike shadows swam in the depths, turning this way and that and agitating the water.
He took the hoe and hustled to a wall. Using the corner
of the blade, he pried a long panel loose. When it fell to the floor, he gave the hoe to Darcy. “Get another one.”
While Darcy tugged at the next panel, Matt pushed his over the aquarium hole, making a bridge. He slid a foot out onto it. It bent slightly, too flimsy to support his weight. “We need more.”
“Sure.” Darcy grabbed the edge of another panel. “Where did your mom go?”
Matt dug his fingers under the panel and jerked it free. “A dragon took her.”
“What?” Her eyes shot wide open. “A dragon?”
“Yeah. A big red one.” He inhaled a deep cleansing breath. “I didn’t recognize him.”
“I’m so sorry. I noticed she was gone, but . . .” Her face reddening, Darcy grabbed a panel and pulled. “I don’t know what else to say. The whole world has gone crazy.”
“Just keep working. We’ll figure out how to save her later.”
During the next minute, he and Darcy tore away several more panels and built a two-layer platform over the water. This time when he stepped onto it, the panels held firm.
He extended a hand. “Give me the keys.” As soon as she dug the ring out of her pocket, he snatched it away, ran four keys along the ring, and stopped at a small brass one. It looked just like the handcuff keys the military police used. “Now to unlock the manacles.”
“How are you going to get up there?”
“By climbing.” After clamping the ring between his teeth, he stepped to the middle of the bridge, reached up, and held Thomas’s belt with both hands. “Sorry about this,” he said, his voice hampered by the ring. “I’ll try to be quick.” He jumped from the platform and grabbed Thomas’s arm, then climbed up to the chains and held them to support his weight. Thomas grunted with each move, but he didn’t cry out.
Matt called, “Darcy, get ready to catch him.”
She stood on the bridge and wrapped her arms around Thomas’s legs. “Ready.”
Releasing the chains with one hand, Matt reached down and pulled off Thomas’s hood, revealing a bald, age-spotted head and a white goatee. Matt spoke in a soothing tone. “Almost done. Get ready to drop.”
