Falcon Quinn and the Black Mirror

by Jennifer Finney Boylan

  “Three up,” said Peeler, “three down.”

  “Dude,” said Max to Jonny. “That was awesome!”

  Jonny shrugged. “It’s just this thing I can do.”

  “Señor Frankenstein,” said Pearl, “you possess the gift of lightning!”

  Jonny jumped back on the ship. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said.

  But at this moment, a tall, gaunt figure with enormous black wings stepped into the chamber. He had a large stopwatch, loudly ticking, around his neck. He looked at them, taking in the situation with a grave expression. Then he spread his tremendous wings and stepped off the stairs, floated through the air down to the wall, and alighted at the side of the boat.

  Falcon stood paralyzed, looking at the creature that had flown toward them. He saw the black eyes, and the hovering wings, and he knew all at once that this was the thing that had stared at him from the heart of the Black Mirror.

  “You are done with this little adventure now,” the being said.

  “Who are you?” said Pearl. “Who creeps toward us upon these slithering wings?”

  “I am called Crow. The headmaster.”

  Jonny opened his hands again, and lightning bolts crackled from his palms. They enveloped the headmaster for a moment, but a second later, the Crow flicked his hand aside, and Jonny Frankenstein fell backward onto the deck of the ship, knocked out cold.

  “I have no time for this,” said the headmaster. “You will cease. Your friend the slug informed me of your actions. It took some, hmm, persuasion”—he smiled and held up his suction-cup hand—“but I drew it out of her in the end.”

  Megan rushed to the side of the prostrate Jonny.

  Jonny’s mouth dropped open, and his expression was blank. A line of drool fell from his lips and dripped toward the ground.

  “What did you do to him?” said Megan.

  “I have erased him,” said the Crow.

  Max looked at the others. “Dude,” he said.

  “Ah, Mr. Parsons,” said the headmaster. “You’re next in line.”

  Megan looked at the Crow, and then turned her face upward, toward the sails.

  The Crow reached out with his long, suction-disk hand, and clamped it onto the side of Max’s face. “It’s okay, dude,” said Max. “You got us. We’ll come peacefully.”

  “It is not okay,” said the headmaster, and then with a wicked smile, added, “doood.”

  The tall, winged creature smiled as his suction-cup hand began to glow purple. Max’s eyes began to roll around in his head. “Hey—wait—you’re—”

  “I’m sucking your brain out,” said the Crow. “Don’t worry. In your case, I don’t think this will take long.”

  “You’re—sucking—my—”

  There was a sudden blast of wind as Megan Crofton devolved from her human form and once more became the wind elemental. Everyone’s hair blew around as the catacombs filled with the howling gale.

  The headmaster still had hold of the side of Max’s head. He smiled as Max began to writhe, like a blind man kicking in sleep. The Crow did not seem concerned with the howling winds. His wings fluttered gently in the breeze.

  As he stood there, slowly sucking Max’s brain, he looked upon Falcon, and his penetrating eyes seemed to bore straight into him. Falcon felt his black eye pulsing now, and a hot lava creeping over his left side. The Crow smiled at this, and nodded. “I told you to seek your soul!” he said. “Instead, you flee!”

  But as he spoke these words, Pearl flew into the rushing air and careened toward the headmaster. With the great black stinger fully extended she began to jab the headmaster with it, again and again.

  “Bang! Bang! Bang!” she shouted. “I sting your leathery, bony backside, Mr. Headmaster big shot! Bang! Bang! I sting your stupid suction-cup hand! I sting you on your giant bat wings and your leathery prune face, again and again, as if it gives me no cause for concern!”

  The headmaster let go of Max, and the winged man began to stagger back and forth as the thick poisons of the Chupakabra began to pulse through him.

  “Such is the fate awaiting those who would cause harm to Señor Max, the Sasquatch! Such a fate awaits anyone who would harm my sworn friends!”

  With this, the headmaster fell over next to the limp bodies of Algol, Mr. Hake, and Mrs. Redflint. His enormous black wings folded gently over them all, like a blanket.

  Over Falcon’s head, the sails of the ship filled up with Megan’s wind. Just as Pearl flew back to the boat and landed by the mast, the ship began to move forcefully and swiftly through the waters, down the River of Crud and into the Tunnel of Dusk.

  “Pearl!” said Falcon. “That was amazing!”

  But Pearl looked weak, and her wings buzzed faintly and erratically as she lay down on the deck. “I am feeling a great exhaustion,” she said. “Having sunk my stinger into the hide of that—that mystery man. I have given him the worst poison that I have—but something—in him—has poisoned me—as well. I fear…”

  Pearl looked around weakly, then fell back onto the deck, her eyes closing. Next to her lay Max, the side of his head still purplish black from the place where the headmaster had sucked his brain, and next to him was Jonny Frankenstein, his face blank.

  “This is bad,” said Woody.

  “I know,” said Falcon. He looked up at the sails overhead. “Megan? What am I supposed to do?”

  But there was no answer from the wind elemental. Falcon remembered the rhyme of Quimby: Pearl’s true love’s a big mistake; she goes to sleep, then cannot wake.

  “Dude,” said Woody. “Your eye’s glowing.”

  “Oh no,” said Falcon, “not again.”

  “No, not the black one,” said Peeler. “The other one. The blue one.”

  “Really?” said Falcon, but even as he said this he felt a strange, cool glow coming from his right eye. It was as if the eye was generating a soft, cold beam of blue light, shimmering from the center of Falcon’s eye and shining onto whatever met his gaze. Falcon looked at Max and shone the light on the Sasquatch’s face.

  Max sat up suddenly, rubbing the side of his face.

  “Dude,” he said, and looked around.

  Falcon smiled. “Dude,” he said.

  “Falcon,” said Woody. “That eye. You’ve got healing powers.”

  “I do,” said Falcon, and as he said this he realized that at least this much was now clear: whatever he was, it was not human. For a moment he felt a wild thrill in his heart, knowing now, at last, that he was coming into his own. But even as he thought this, Falcon wondered whether the thing he was turning into was a monster, or something different. He wondered what else he could do with his blue eye besides heal things. Was it possible that the same eye that could heal his friends could also bring them harm?

  “Hey, man,” said Max, “shine your light on Pearl.”

  “I—I’m,” Falcon stuttered, “I’m not sure I should—”

  “Dude, what are you waiting for? Help her!”

  Falcon shone the light on Pearl. This time the light came out more brightly, and its color was lighter, its temperature colder. After a moment Pearl twitched gently and then all at once began to buzz again.

  “I am…,” she said. “Ah…who am I?”

  “La Chupakabra, Pearl,” said Max.

  “La—what?”

  Falcon shone his cold blue light on her a little longer.

  “You mean you don’t know?” said Max. He looked at Falcon, worried. “This is bad.”

  “Pearl,” said Falcon. “Think. You’re la Chupakabra?”

  “I have never heard of this,” said Pearl.

  “La Chupakabra.”

  “La Choppy cha cha?”

  “Dude,” said Max. “Think.”

  “Pearl,” said Falcon. “Concentrate. You’re la Chupakabra. The famous goatsucker of—”

  Suddenly Pearl’s eyes grew wide, and she smiled, and snapped her fingers in the air. “Ah yes, of course! Of course! ¡La Chupakabra
! The famous goatsucker of Peru!” She buzzed in the air and circled around Falcon’s head. “And I have been restored to this world by the shining blue light that comes from the eye of my sworn companion, Señor Falcon Quinn!”

  “Dude,” said Woody, “shine your light thing on Jonny.”

  Jonny continued to stare blankly.

  Falcon focused the light on Jonny, and after a moment the boy sat up and looked at Falcon. He made a soft, incomprehensible muttering sound.

  “Jonny,” said Falcon.

  Jonny continued to mutter in his inhuman, garbled speech.

  “Jonny…,” said Falcon. “Come back.”

  Jonny blinked. “Wehhhh,” he said. He seemed confused. “Cygnus?” he said. “Cygnus?”

  Falcon focused the light on him more intently, and a moment later, Jonny’s eyes grew large.

  “Falcon,” he said, looking around. “Max. Pearl.”

  “Whew,” said Max. “That was close.”

  “Falcon,” said Max, standing up and going over to him. “Dude! You’ve got, like, a magical healing eye! That is so awesome!” He lifted Falcon in the air and hugged him.

  “I have never encountered a monster with the power to heal,” said Pearl. “It is a most beneficial talent!”

  Falcon smiled, but something about his newfound power continued to make him uneasy. He felt a strange cold power in his blue eye. Something inside me, he thought, is growing.

  “I hope it’s a talent,” said Falcon.

  “What else might it be?” said Pearl.

  “I don’t know,” said Falcon.

  “Man, I feel great,” said Max. “That mysterious healing-eye thing is, like, I don’t know, getting a massage on your brain!”

  “I too feel rejuvenated,” said Pearl. “I feel as if I have just been born into a new and unknown world!”

  They looked at Jonny, who just shrugged. “I feel okay,” he said, and walked to the bow of the boat to stand by himself.

  Falcon, Pearl, and the Sasquatches watched Jonny for a moment, then looked at each other. The waters of the river lapped against the sides of their boat.

  “You’re all right, Falcon Quinn,” said Max.

  As if to second this opinion, a wind whirled around Falcon for a moment, and Megan’s face flickered before his eyes. The sails fell slack.

  “Megan’s the one who saved us,” said Falcon. “If she hadn’t filled the sails, we’d still be back in the catacombs.”

  The sails over their heads filled again, and the coffin ship moved swiftly into the Tunnel of Dusk. The tunnel curved gently to the left, and the light from the catacombs behind them was gone. Still, they seemed to be bathed in a soft blue glow. Falcon marveled at the strange, soft luminescence. It seemed to be everywhere he looked.

  “Where’s that light coming from?” he said.

  Max looked at Falcon curiously. “Dude,” he said. “It’s coming from you.”

  “Seriously?” said Falcon.

  “Indeed, your blue eye casts a kind of illumination all around us!” said Pearl. “It is a helpful thing for us as we drift through this dark place beneath the world!”

  “Wait,” said Peeler. “You’re not, like, casting the light on purpose?”

  “No,” said Falcon.

  “He’s like a little blue flashlight,” said Woody.

  The ship moved forward on the turgid, odoriferous waters of the River of Crud.

  “Where are we, do you think?” said Max.

  “It is difficult to get one’s bearings beneath these mountains of stone,” said Pearl, “but if I were to guess, I should think we are drifting beneath the Upper School.”

  “When Megan and I were in the Tower of Souls,” said Falcon, “we got a glimpse of things from high up. Beyond the school is a forest, and beyond the forest is the ocean.”

  “Mrs. Redflint called it the Sea of Dragons,” said Peeler.

  “Dragons,” said Max. He sighed. “Dude.”

  “Hey, everybody,” said Woody, pointing downstream in the tunnel. “What’s that?”

  Ahead of them the tunnel widened into a large subterranean chamber. On one wall there were what looked like square windows, with bars on them. Something pale was sticking out of one of the windows, and as they drew near, Falcon saw that it was a pair of hands.

  “Hey, Megan,” said Falcon. “Slow us down, okay?”

  The sails fell slack as the breeze died, and the ship drifted forward into the stone chamber. There were torches on the walls in here as well, filling the room with an eerie orange light. Two other branches of the River of Crud converged here, and the swelling waters poured out of one enormous tunnel at the far end of the room.

  “Help me,” said a voice, and as they watched, a face drew close to the bars on the near wall.

  It was Lincoln Pugh.

  “Help me,” he said again. The boy looked weak and pale, and his eyelids drooped heavily, as if he was barely awake. A moment later another face appeared at an adjacent window.

  “LOST,” said Sparkbolt wearily.

  “Sparkbolt,” said Max, “you okay, man?”

  “It’s the dungeon,” said Falcon. “We’re passing the dungeon!”

  “SPARKBOLT—LOST,” said Sparkbolt.

  “Help us,” said Lincoln Pugh. “So many others. All—crazy. All—insane.”

  “We have to help them,” said Falcon. “We have to get them out of there.”

  “How are we going to help them?” said Jonny. “We don’t even know where the entrance to the dungeon is.”

  “I shall investigate matters more completely,” said Pearl, leaping into the air. Her wings buzzed back and forth, like a hummingbird’s, and she flew over to the two barred windows in the stone wall. The ship continued to drift past them, even without the benefit of Megan’s winds. The confluence of the other branches of the river here created enough of a current to keep them moving at a fairly rapid pace.

  A moment later, Pearl flew back to the boat, her face pale. “It is a place of torture,” she said. “Many of our comrades are imprisoned there—surrounded by implements for the infliction of great pain. It is an impregnable fortress. And as I watched, the doors opened again, and others were brought into its depths.”

  “We have to get out of here,” said Jonny. “Now.” He looked up at the sails. “Megan, get us out of here! Full speed ahead.”

  “No,” said Falcon. “We have to save them!”

  “How are you going to do that?” said Jonny. “We don’t even know where the entrance to the dungeon is.”

  “ENTRANCE,” said Sparkbolt from behind his bars, “IN HEADMASTER—OFFICE. BEYOND—GATES! IN OFFICE OF—HEADMASTER!!”

  “Yeah, okay, well, we’re not going there,” said Jonny. “Okay? We’re making an escape. We can’t be going back to the school and going into the headmaster’s office. That’s just nuts.”

  They were drifting farther away from the dungeon’s windows now. Sparkbolt was looking at Falcon with a desperate, hopeful expression. “FALCON QUINN—FRIEND!” he said. “SPARKBOLT! FRIEND!”

  Falcon felt sick inside. The left side of his face pulsed with heat. “We must destroy them!” he said angrily. “The ones who put them there. Hake. Redflint. And the Crow. We have to KILL them!” He turned to the Chupakabra. “Pearl,” said Falcon, “we can do this. I’ll hold on to your back, and you can fly me over there. We can get into the dungeon and we’ll jump the guards next time they throw someone in there, and we’ll destroy them! We’ll rip their guts out! We’ll—” He felt dizzy and raised his left hand to his face. The blue light that had been cast by his right eye faded and went out.

  Pearl looked at Falcon, then at the prisoners staring at them from the windows of the dungeon. “This is not a plan,” she said cautiously. “This is a scenario that turns ourselves into prisoners as well!”

  Falcon looked back at the windows of the dungeon as they left the chamber. Sparkbolt was holding his hands out toward him desperately, making his high-pitched, hope
ful sound. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” he said. “FALCON QUINN! FRIEND!”

  Falcon turned to the others, his eye burning. “We have to save them,” he said. “We’re not going without them!”

  “Señor,” said Pearl, “it is beyond our powers.”

  “It’s not,” Falcon yelled, in a voice that did not quite sound like his own. “Nothing is beyond my powers!” And as he yelled this, orange fireballs shot out of his black eye and into the waters of the river, where they exploded and sank. Falcon lifted one hand to his face and fell to his knees. “What’s—happening to me?” he said. “What’s—”

  They drifted toward the archway. “Megan!” shouted Jonny. “Get us out of here!”

  Falcon, his left eye burning, looked back at the barred windows of the dungeon, at the faces of Sparkbolt and Lincoln Pugh growing smaller and smaller. Just as they approached the end of the chamber, Falcon saw three more faces appear at the windows of the dungeon, looking at him with desperation and despair. They were the faces of Destynee and Weems and Turpin. Destynee had a bluish bruise on one side of her face. She stared out the window blankly, as if she was a doll filled with sawdust.

  “We’re…,” said Turpin.

  “Brain,” Destynee’s voice said emptily. “Sucked.”

  Five sets of arms now reached out to him beseechingly from behind the bars of the dungeon.

  “…trapped,” said Turpin.

  “Friend?” said Sparkbolt, as if it was only now occurring to him that Falcon and the others were sailing away and would not be coming back for them. “Friend?”

  18

  ON THE SEA OF DRAGONS

  The tunnel twisted through the dark caverns. There were no torches here, and the young monsters soon found themselves surrounded by a thick, damp blackness. There was the sound of the sludgelike water slapping against the sides of the ship, as well as the distant roar of the ocean. The monsters stood in the bow, gazing into the impenetrable dark.

  “Falcon,” said Max. “Can’t you do that flashlight thing with your blue eye again? We could use a little light.”

  “I don’t know how,” said Falcon.

  “You were doing it before,” Max pointed out.