by Mark Crilley
Before long we were being herded through a dark, damp corridor that felt like the passageway to a medieval dungeon. As we moved farther and farther into the blackness, I tried to make sense of some of the things I’d just seen and heard. It wasn’t easy. The thought that Alia Rellapor was the Prince’s mother was so devastating I didn’t want to face it, and the idea that King Froptoppit and Mr. Beeba and everybody had been lying to me was enough to make me sick. My head was spinning with so many questions, I didn’t know who was lying and who was telling the truth. Why did Alia Rellapor seem so nice at first and then turn so nasty? Did she really hate King Froptoppit simply because he was weak, or was that just some excuse? Why hadn’t Poog said anything on our behalf the way he had before?
As for the hole, well, I didn’t even want to think about what that might turn out to be.
Chapter 14
After we had passed through the long, dark hallway, Throck led us into a huge round room. In the middle of the floor we saw a pit that must have been twenty feet wide. Above the pit, hanging from a sooty black chain, was a large iron cage with a single squarish door. On one side of the pit, a narrow stone platform jutted out to meet the bottom of the door to the cage. Throck stepped across the platform, opened the cage door with a loud, rattling screech, and walked back to where we stood at the edge of the hole.
“You!” he barked, grabbing Spuckler roughly by one arm. “Into the cage!”
Spuckler stood fast where he was.
“Make me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“With pleasure,” Throck answered, snapping his gigantic hand around Spuckler’s neck. Spuckler gave a muffled cry as Throck lifted him and carried him toward the pit like a fisherman lugging his latest catch. All at once he tossed Spuckler violently into the cage, which creaked and swayed with the added weight.
“Now,” Throck said, turning to face us. “I trust I can expect a bit more cooperation from the rest of you.”
“Absolutely, er, Mr. Throck, sir,” Mr. Beeba squeaked as he obediently trotted into the cage. “Come now, Akiko,” he called back to me as he sat down by Spuckler’s side. “We mustn’t keep Mr. Throck waiting. You can see he’s a very busy man.”
I shot Throck an angry glance as I followed Mr. Beeba into the cage. Staring down into the pit as I stepped across the platform, I shuddered at its depth. The bottom—if there was a bottom—was completely engulfed in blackness.
Gax followed me, rolling carefully over the gap between the cage and the edge of the platform. Only Poog remained, confronting Throck directly for the first time since they had “negotiated” outside the castle.
A tense, silent moment passed. I thought for sure Poog would say or do something to save us. But he simply stared at Throck. Finally, without a word, Poog floated over the platform and joined us inside the cage. Throck leaped forward and locked the door of the cage as quickly as he could. He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
“I told you you’d never leave this castle with the Prince,” said Throck. He turned and walked to a long iron lever on the wall. “Now it looks like you’ll never leave this castle at all.”
He reached up and swiftly pulled the lever all the way down. Immediately the cage dropped a few inches, stopped abruptly, then slowly continued to descend into the pit.
KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK . . .
As the chain lowered the cage, there was a horrible rusty cranking sound, like the noise of a monstrous roller coaster carrying thrill seekers to the top of its highest hill. I caught one last glimpse of Throck as we dropped below the edge of the hole. He had his arms folded across his chest and was breathing very heavily. He looked strangely exhausted.
KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK . . .
Down we went into the darkness. Before long there was so little light we could hardly see our hands in front of our faces. Still the cage kept going down . . .
. . . down . . .
. . . down . . .
. . . until finally we reached the bottom.
It was completely black. There was a loud scraping noise from the top of the cage, followed by a sound identical to the one that had accompanied our descent.
“He unhooked the chain,” I heard Spuckler say in the darkness. “He’s leavin’ us down here with no way t’ get back up.”
Mr. Beeba moaned.
“Hang on, everybody,” Spuckler said. “I’ll switch on Gax’s torch.”
K’CHAK-FRIIING!
There was a long pause. It was still very, very dark.
“Gax,” whispered Spuckler. “What’s the problem?”
“THAT’S NOT MY TORCH, SIR,” Gax answered apologetically. “IT’S MY TOASTER OVEN.”
“Hang on.”
K’CHAK-SPROING!
“How about that?” Spuckler asked.
“MY ELECTRIC SHOE POLISHER, SIR,” Gax answered in the darkness.
“Hmpf!” Spuckler responded. “Remind me t’ have that removed.”
K’CHAK-FRAWWWWWWW!
There was a sudden flash of light as Spuckler switched on Gax’s torch.
“That’s more like it!” he said, grinning for what seemed like the first time in many hours. “Now at least we can see what we’re up against.”
The curved walls of the pit surrounded us just a yard or two beyond the iron bars of the cage. It was cold and—even with Gax’s torch burning its brightest—very dark. There was a faint dripping noise somewhere nearby, but otherwise it was silent.
“I wonder what they intend to do to us down here,” Mr. Beeba said, staring gloomily at the stone walls.
“I figure they aim t’ keep us down here till we starve to death,” Spuckler answered, sounding oddly upbeat about the idea.
“I sincerely doubt it, Spuckler,” Mr. Beeba answered. “Starvation is such a tedious form of execution. I expect these two will have come up with something a good bit more dramatic.”
I sat there with my knees pulled up against my chest, staring first at Spuckler, then at Mr. Beeba, then back at Spuckler again. I don’t know what happened at that moment, but something inside me—something way deep down inside me—something just snapped.
“You guys aren’t my friends,” I heard myself say, startled by the blunt sound of the words. “You guys aren’t my friends at all.”
“Why, Akiko—” Mr. Beeba began.
“If you were my friends,” I interrupted, “you
wouldn’t have lied to me about Alia Rellapor. You would have told me the truth way back when this mission started instead of treating me like some kind of dumb little kid!”
I was vaguely aware that tears were running down my face.
“’Kiko,” Spuckler said, stretching an arm out toward me.
“Don’t touch me!” I shouted, pulling back and rubbing the tears out of my eyes. Though my vision was blurry, I could see Poog staring at me with a look of great concern.
“And you’re no better!” I cried hoarsely, pointing a finger at a very astonished-looking Poog. “You’ve known what was going on this whole time, and you told me nothing. Nothing!”
“Akiko, you mustn’t speak to Poog this way,” Mr. Beeba said urgently, sounding genuinely alarmed.
“I don’t care!” I said, thrusting my face into my folded arms. I wanted so badly to be back home, miles and miles away from this awful mess. . . .
There was a very long pause. I could hear nothing but the tiny dripping sound and Gax’s torch occasionally sputtering as it burned. I kept my face covered with my arms, as if by not allowing myself to see anything I might somehow magically disappear.
“You’re right, ’Kiko,” said Spuckler finally, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Right about one thing, anyway. We shoulda told ya ’bout Alia. Orders or no orders. We shoulda told ya.”
“Yes,” Mr. Beeba agreed, sighing deeply. “King Froptoppit thought that the mission would seem less . . . well, less complicated if you weren’t told the truth about Alia.
“He was wrong about that, th
ough,” he continued after a pause, “and so were we. I can only hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive us, Akiko. For we are sorry. Terribly, terribly sorry.”
There was another long pause as I sat there, taking all this in. Part of me wanted to just forgive them and forget about it. Another part of me, though, was still very angry.
“Less complicated?” I asked, sniffling.
Silence. Then:
“Yes, Akiko,” said Mr. Beeba. “The truth is, King Froptoppit and Alia Rellapor were once a very happy couple. Their marriage was the envy of the galaxy. When Prince Froptoppit was born, their joy only intensified. Smoo’s royal family was the picture of contentment.”
I raised my head to look at Mr. Beeba. He had a distant look in his eyes as he recalled those happier times.
“Then, strangely enough, Alia began to change. No one is quite sure why. She became bitter. Greedy. She began to berate King Froptoppit, making many of the claims you heard just a moment ago—that he was too weak. That a good king must dominate his subjects mercilessly. Needless to say, the changes in Alia began to put a strain upon their marriage. We all hoped it was just a passing phase, but it seemed only to get worse.
“One morning King Froptoppit awoke to find Alia gone. She left a note saying that she had gone off to build a castle of her own in the mountains, a dominion from which she would one day show us all the meaning of real power. For a time she had a large army of
devoted followers, but one by one they defected and fell away. She was simply too cruel to inspire loyalty for very long. I suppose this Throck fellow is the only one left on her side now. Throck and an army of robots.”
Beeba turned to look at me, the distant look in his eyes giving way to an expression of great seriousness.
“Then, less than a year ago, a small battalion of Alia’s robots descended on King Froptoppit’s palace. The good people of Smoo battled tirelessly in the King’s defense, but it was no use. At the end of the day the Prince was cornered in the palace gardens, captured, and taken off to Alia’s castle. King Froptoppit sent rescue party after rescue party, but to no avail. That’s when he turned to you, Akiko.”
I stared at Spuckler and Mr. Beeba, then at Gax and Poog. They were all looking at me anxiously, waiting to see how I’d react.
I suppose I should have been shocked or angry or something. Oddly enough, I was just relieved. Relieved to have finally heard the truth. A lot of it still didn’t make any sense to me, but at least I felt pretty sure I wasn’t being lied to anymore.
“Apology accepted,” I said.
Mr. Beeba and Spuckler both sighed their relief. Poog also looked very pleased, though not at all surprised.
“But let me make one thing clear,” I said, looking very sternly at Spuckler and Mr. Beeba. “I don’t ever want to catch you keeping secrets from me again. Do you understand me? Never.”
“I hear ya, ’Kiko,” Spuckler said. “Loud an’ clear.”
“Absolutely,” Mr. Beeba chimed in. “Spuckler and I have learned our lesson. Truly we have.”
“Just one thing, Mr. Beeba.”
“Yes, Akiko?”
“Lend me your handkerchief, will you?” I said. “My nose is running like crazy.”
Chapter 15
After a moment there was a strange rumbling sound. I felt the cage rattling beneath me as if we were in the midst of a minor earthquake.
“MY MOTION DETECTORS, SIR—” Gax began.
“Yeah, I know, Gax,” Spuckler interrupted. “I feel it too.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, staring nervously into the darkness.
“This is it!” Mr. Beeba announced in a panicked voice. “Execution time!”
“Beebs!” Spuckler cried. “Get ahold of yourself!”
Just then I noticed that the temperature seemed to be rising. I thought it might have just been Gax’s torch, but eventually I could tell that it was coming from somewhere outside the cage.
“A lava trap,” Spuckler muttered. “I mighta known.”
“A lava trap?” Mr. Beeba repeated, his voice loud and shrill.
“Wh-what’s a lava trap?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t as self-explanatory as it sounded.
“Well, basically,” Spuckler explained, “it’s a trap where they get ya in some place where ya can’t get back out—like this here pit, for instance—an’ then what they do is dump a buncha lava on ya. Hurts pretty bad, I ’magine.”
“Hurts pretty bad?” Mr. Beeba repeated, sounding even more panicked than before. “You mean kills pretty bad!”
“Well,” Spuckler answered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “yeah, Beebs, if ya wanna get technical.”
I stared up in horror as I saw tiny streaks of glowing yellow-and-orange lava begin to trickle down the walls from somewhere high above. In seconds big puddles of the stuff began forming where the walls met the floor, slowly creeping in toward the cage, inch by inch.
“We’re going to be buried alive!” Mr. Beeba shrieked. “We’re going to be burned alive!” He paused, then added, “We’re going to be buried alive and burned alive!”
“Oh no we ain’t,” Spuckler announced confidently.
He reached inside Gax and produced a tool about the size of an eggbeater. At one end of the tool was
a small rotary blade. Clicking a button on one side, Spuckler made the blade spin at an incredible speed.
“Cover your eyes, now,” Spuckler said to Mr. Beeba and me. “This thing tends to send out a lotta sparks.”
I turned my face away and covered my eyes with my hands.
ZZZZYYYYAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!!!
There was a terrible grinding sound. I wanted to see what Spuckler was doing, but I didn’t dare look. There were two loud clanking noises, like the sound of a barbell being dropped on a metal floor. Ten or twenty seconds later the noise stopped and Spuckler invited us to see what he had done.
Two bars of the cage had been cut away, creating a window about three feet tall and two feet wide.
“C’mon, everybody!” Spuckler shouted. “Up on top of the cage! Fast as ya can!”
By then the pools of lava on the floor had reached the bottom of the cage and begun to seep between the bars. I stuck my foot into Spuckler’s folded hands and stepped up through the opening he had made.
When I got to the top of the cage, I saw that the chain was gone, just as Spuckler had said. Peering up into the darkness, I could see a tiny circle of light in the distance. It looked as if we were at least half a mile away from the top of the pit.
“Akiko! Do give me a hand here, won’t you?”
It was Mr. Beeba. His head was poking out from under the roof of the cage, a look of real terror gripping his face. I reached down with both hands and helped him up. Spuckler lifted Gax by his round robot body and carefully handed him to us before swiftly scrambling up himself. By then the floor of the cage was completely covered with white-hot lava, which created an intense dry heat beneath us. It was like being trapped inside a parked car with all the windows up on a blistering August day. We quickly peeled off our thick winter coats and allowed them to fall into the glowing fire beneath us.
“We’re doomed! Doomed!” Mr. Beeba wailed.
For once his fears seemed to be completely justified. The fiery rivers continued pouring down the walls, raising the level of the lava to ever greater heights. Within minutes the cage was more than half buried. Stranded on the top, there was nothing we could do but huddle closer and closer together.
“I just want you all to know,” Mr. Beeba said tearfully, “that I can think of no people I’d rather die with than you. . . .”
“For cryin’ out loud, Beebs, we ain’t gonna die!” Spuckler said between clenched teeth. But even he seemed to have run out of ideas. We all stared longingly at the tiny circle of light hundreds of feet above, hoping that by some miracle the lava flow would stop.
It didn’t.
Soon only about a foot and a half of the cage remained above the sca
lding-hot lava, and another inch vanished with each passing second. Wondering if this really was the end, I looked at Spuckler, Mr. Beeba, Gax, and . . .
I suddenly realized that Poog was nowhere to be seen.
Just then the cage began to tremble under us. At first I thought it was just being lifted by the sheer volume of the fiery material surrounding it. But no! It was actually rising into the air, floating up out of the lava as if by magic. Spuckler lay down and stuck his head out over the edge of the cage.
“It’s Poog!” he shouted. “He’s underneath this here cage!”
He swung his head around and gave us a big toothy grin just as the cage broke free of the lava for good.
“He’s liftin’ us outta here!” Spuckler hollered, cackling with delight.
Mr. Beeba and I held on for dear life as Poog carried the cage—and all of us on top of it—from the very bottom of the pit to the very top. The bricks on the wall raced by as we kept going up, up, up. I sucked in the clean, cool air with hungry gulps as the cage rose over the lip of the hole and settled gently on one side of the room.
Throck was gone. So were the Torgs.
We scrambled down from the top of the cage to see if Poog was all right. He looked very tired but happy. I reached out and gave him a big hug. (Don’t ask me how you hug an alien that has no arms. You just do it.)
“Thank you, Poog! Thank you!”
Mr. Beeba, Spuckler, and Gax all joined in congratulating Poog. I’d always suspected that Poog was the most important member of our team. Now I knew for sure.
Chapter 16
We were all so happy and relieved just to be alive, I don’t think it had occurred to us that we’d need a plan once we’d made it out of the hole.
“’Kiko, I reckon it’s up to you,” Spuckler said when our little celebration was over. “Should we try t’ rescue the Prince again, or should we jus’ hightail it on outta here?”
