“I don’t know…,” said Falcon. “Because she needed a date.”
“Because you are a creature of goodness, and grace,” said Vega. “Because you decided to do an act of kindness, to help someone else.”
At this moment Falcon felt a presence behind him. He turned—and there, standing behind him, was Jonny, his face looking somber and tired.
“Jonny,” said Falcon. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing’s happened to him,” said Vega. “He’s a guardian, like you.”
“He’s a what? What are you talking about?”
“Sorry, Falcon,” Jonny said, his eyes downcast. “I told you I was a piece of junk.”
“No!” shouted Falcon.
Jonny didn’t look at him.
A heavily muscled man in military fatigues came into the cottage, leading Max and Pearl, bound with ropes.
Vega looked cross. “Cygnus,” she said. “What have you done with the other three?”
“Right. We starred the Sasquatches. The wind elemental got away.”
Vega looked crossly at Jonny. “How did she get away? I thought the Crofton girl was your responsibility.”
“She turned into her wind form,” said Jonny. “Blew away.” He shrugged. “But she’s exhausted. She won’t get far.”
Pearl was yelling, her mouth muffled by the gag. “Wff shll vngg! Ths njustis! Mf shll fll th stngr! Th STNGR!!”
Max just looked afraid and groaned sadly.
Tippy, the little dog, growled softly.
“What’s wrong with you, Jonny?” said Falcon. “Why don’t you fight her? Use the electricity!”
“Falcon, don’t you understand?” asked Vega. “We sent him to the Academy. To bring you here.”
“You said you were my friend!” Falcon cried. Jonny hung his head.
“I say bite them!” said the dog. “I say bite them with the poison fangs!”
“Tippy, hush,” said Vega. She turned to Falcon and looked at him thoughtfully. “I’ll give you a choice, Falcon. A choice to show us what you are.”
“Choice?” said Falcon. “What choice?”
“Destroy these two,” said Vega. “And we’ll let Megan go. She doesn’t do much damage, anyway, being invisible and all that.” She took a green-tipped wand from the man who was holding Max and Pearl, then handed it to Falcon.
“Go on,” said Vega. “Point this at their hearts. They’ll turn into shining stars. It’s painless. And they’ll be grateful to you.”
“You want me to hurt my friends?” said Falcon. “Are you insane?”
“No, Falcon,” said Vega. “I want you to be sane. I want you to live a good life, and to help me. Help rid the world of monsters, these—aberrations, these things that give innocent children nightmares and sorrow! I know you are fond of them. But remember: they aren’t human. So do this thing, even though I know you don’t want to—and you’ll save the life of the girl, Megan. And by saving her, you’ll show us—and yourself—the truth. That you’re not a monster. You’re a guardian, a creature of compassion and light.”
Falcon looked down at the wand in his hand. His blue eye throbbed and glowed.
Then he looked up at Max, and at Pearl, and wondered what kind of stars they’d be, and whether they would be able, somehow, to look down from the heavens and forgive him for what he had to do.
Falcon held the wand up in the air. The green tip glittered in the sunlight.
“You have to hold the tip to their hearts,” said Vega.
“I know what I have to do,” said Falcon.
He stood there for a moment with the wand. He stepped toward his friends. Then he said. “I’m sorry.”
Pearl was shouting, “Flcn, dn tch mf wf th wnd! R th STNGER wll bf nvld!”
Falcon nodded, then, suddenly, turned toward Jonny—and held the wand to Jonny’s heart. There was a soft sizzling sound, as if a hot pan full of bacon grease was being filled all at once with cold water. A cloud of damp smoke rose toward the ceiling. Other than this, however, there was no change in Jonny. Falcon looked at the wand, wondering what he had done wrong.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” said Vega, taking the wand from Falcon. “Give me that.” She sighed. “I should have known.”
“I’ll do it,” said Cygnus. “I should have done it when I did the other two.”
“No, you were right to stay your hand,” said Vega. “Falcon has to do this. It is only by realizing this choice that he can take his place as prince. But it’s asking too much of him, too soon. He has love for these creatures, as might any person of such innocence who had spent too much time among them. The wand will not work until he is certain.”
“I say bite them!” said Tippy.
“Hush.”
“We should capture the girl and star her,” said Cygnus. “That will help him decide.”
“Yes, we need the girl,” said Vega. “But we can’t catch her without him.” Vega thought for a moment, mulling the situation over.
Cygnus rubbed his chin. “Right,” he said. “How about if we crystallize these two as music, then. That will contain them, for a little bit, until Falcon can muster the courage to destroy them himself.”
Max moaned softly. Pearl yelled some more. “Lh Chpkbrh shll nt bcm crysl msc! Lh Chkbrh shll dstry th—!”
Jonny raised his hands and gave Pearl a blast of lightning from them. This seemed to stun her for a moment, and she fell silent.
“I thought you were out of power,” said Falcon bitterly.
“Out of power,” chuckled Jonny. “As if.”
“The music,” said Vega. “Yes, the music. Very well, then.” She raised her hands, and a storm of ice and snow seemed to roll out of her palms and envelop Max and Pearl. There was a terrible clashing sound, the chaos of two different songs playing simultaneously. Small tornadoes rotated above the hearts of Falcon’s friends, and two sheets of white paper unfolded beneath their feet. For a moment, Falcon could hear the two different strains—there was a wild salsa tune for Pearl, a raucous rock-and-roll song for Max. The tornadoes gyrated and swayed, not only in time with the different melodies, but as if they were the melodies themselves, made visible. The whorls of wind swayed toward Falcon, as if beseeching him for something, and the songs they embodied grew desperate, melancholy, terror-stricken. Then there was a great whoosh of wind, and the tornadoes condensed onto the paper beneath them. Black raindrops fell from the cyclones and scattered across the pages, and as they landed on the paper they became black notes. Falcon watched as his friends were transcribed and the tornadoes disappeared, and the last few black raindrops fell upon the pages and were frozen there forever as dark notes.
“What did you do to them?” cried Falcon. “What did you do?”
“Changed them into crystals of music, of course,” said Vega.
“So they’ll keep,” said Cygnus.
“Keep—for what?”
“Keep until you can kill them later,” said Vega.
“There’s no point in having you kill them if they’re already dead,” said Cygnus.
“I’m not going to kill them! They’re my friends!”
“They weren’t your friends,” said Vega with a laugh. “They were a lesson. It is an ancient tradition, that princes should spend their youth among base companions, so that they can better learn what they are fighting against. Do you know the poem? ‘The Prince but studies his companions, Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language….’”
“My friend Sparkbolt writes poems,” said Falcon softly.
Vega laughed again. “Your friend,” she said, “whom you left behind in a dungeon, weeping and calling your name.”
“Right,” said Cygnus. “We should get the kid some camo.”
“Yes, you’re going to want a uniform,” said Vega, pointing to a pile of clothing next to the piano. “That’s for you, Falcon.”
“He’s going to fit right in,” said Cygnus. “In no time at all, you won’t be able to tell him apart from anyo
ne!”
Jonny grabbed Falcon by the elbow. “To the Pinnacle, then?” he said.
Vega nodded. “It is a lovely place, the Pinnacle of Virtues. All above the world. It is a good spot from which to reflect on one’s life and consider one’s recent mistakes.”
Falcon struggled, but Jonny and Cygnus held him tightly, and he could not get free.
“Mother,” said Falcon, “don’t do this to me.”
Falcon’s mother pointed toward the fortress at the top of the Hidden City.
“Take him,” she said.
22
THE GONSTER
There was great interest in Falcon as he was paraded through the Hidden City by Cygnus and Jonny and Vega. People lined the streets to gaze at him with curiosity. They were a warlike people, the guardians, openly wearing heavy armor or shirts of mail, and carrying long swords and maces. Then there were others who carried no weapons at all, but who towered above Falcon and his mother, and whose bodies were covered with rippling, massive muscles. These creatures wore green togas with brown belts, and they stood by the edge of the cobblestone street, their muscled forearms crossed, watching Falcon with fascination and suspicion.
Then they passed a giant temple, with minarets and columns covered in gray and brown tiles. Before the temple were a dozen older men and women, leaning on staffs. One of them held a thick green book in one hand, and as Falcon passed, the cleric looked into the book, and then at the queen and her son, and then back at the book again.
They walked him up a cobblestone path that climbed the hill toward the fortress. The path wound back and forth between the fortified walls and ramparts, higher and higher up the shoulders of the mountain. At last they passed beneath the jagged portcullis of the fortress. The placement of windows filled the fortress’s interior with sunshine, and Falcon climbed up a wide, swirling set of stairs until he reached the top, where a trapdoor opened onto a high platform.
“I’ll take him up,” said Jonny.
“This is the Pinnacle of Virtues,” said Falcon’s mother. “We’re going to keep you here for a while and give you the chance to talk things over with your conscience.”
“You should talk about conscience,” said Falcon. “Killing people, turning them into things—”
“Sometimes doing good in the world requires a certain harshness,” said Vega. “Sometimes it’s even necessary to destroy the thing you love, to save the world. I wish it wasn’t like this, Falcon. I wish this wasn’t your choice. But you’re a guardian, son, and so the choice falls to you, just as it fell to me a long time ago, when I had to decide whether to help save the world or to let evil prosper. I had to give up the person I loved, Falcon. So that I could better fight the darkness.”
She looked regretful as she said this, retreating into some kind of private reverie.
“Mom…,” said Falcon, slowly, “Dad didn’t just fall through the ice, did he?”
“What?”
“Dad. He didn’t just fall through the ice. Of Carrabec Pond. Did he?”
“No, Falcon,” said Vega wearily.
“What happened to him?” said Falcon.
“I pushed him in,” said Vega softly.
“Why?” said Falcon.
“Because,” said Vega. “He was a monster, of course.”
“What kind of monster was he?” asked Falcon.
“What?”
“What kind of monster was he? My father?”
Vega looked perplexed. “Does it matter?” She turned to Cygnus. “The girl—what is her name again—the wind elemental?”
“Megan Crofton,” said Cygnus.
“She should come for him soon enough. And then we’ll freeze her, and then that will be all of them.”
“I’m not going to be bait,” said Falcon.
“Actually…,” said Vega.
“Let me go!” shouted Falcon. “I’m not helping you.”
“Well, that would be your choice,” said Vega. “On the other hand, consider the alternative. You might take the crystal music—and rip these pages into pieces. Then let the pieces fall from the pinnacle—let them drift down to the earth—like the snow, in Maine. And by this we’ll know you’ve made your choice, and spared the wind elemental. This is your choice, Falcon—destroy these two, and save the girl. Or, on the other hand, do nothing, and all three of them will be turned into shining stars.”
“I’m not hurting them,” said Falcon.
“I know you think you’re being noble, Falcon. But this is only because you’ve had no instruction. Please. Do you think a monster would hesitate to kill these two, to spare himself?” said Vega.
“I said I’m not hurting them!”
She sighed. “Good-bye, son. If I do not see you again, I will look up into the skies at night and find the place where you shine. And make a wish upon you.”
With this, Vega turned and walked swiftly away.
“Come on, Falcon,” said Jonny, opening the trapdoor over their heads and pushing Falcon forward into the high, open space. Falcon fell to his knees and looked back at Jonny.
“Listen, Falcon—”
“Just go,” said Falcon.
“Look,” said Jonny. “I couldn’t change the mission. I brought you here, like I was supposed to. But I saved her, okay? I saved her for you!”
“Who?”
“Megan,” said Jonny quietly.
“What are you talking about?”
“On the beach. I told her what was about to happen, how they were going to capture and star everyone, that they’d probably put you up here, try to use you as bait to catch her. That’s what I was doing when we left you on the beach. Convincing her to escape, to get away from here for good.”
“Why?” said Falcon. “What did you do that for?”
“Because,” said Jonny, his eyes ablaze with hurt. “I told you. I’m your friend.”
Falcon smiled bitterly. “Gee, Jonny. What a pal!”
“You think you’re the only one who’s torn between worlds? You think you’re the only thing in the world with two hearts?”
“I don’t understand!”
“Give them what they want,” said Jonny, “so you can survive this. And then—you and me. We can fight them. We can fight all of them.”
“I’m not joining you,” said Falcon. “I’d rather die.”
“Your call,” said Jonny.
Jonny climbed down the ladder and closed the trapdoor behind him. There was a heavy thud, and then the trapdoor was sealed, leaving Falcon trapped in the Pinnacle of Virtues.
Falcon ran to the trapdoor, knowing it was locked, but he pulled on the handle anyway. The door did not budge. He stamped on it, then kicked it, but succeeded only in hurting his foot. Falcon walked over to the edge of the pinnacle and looked down at the Hidden City below him.
It wasn’t really a very large place, at least not from this height. Beyond the city were villages, and beyond them, farms, and beyond the farms were fields of brown earth and green crops, and beyond the green crops were the untamed reaches of the rain forest.
He looked out at the sea, at the relentless waves pounding up against the sands. It made him sad to think how excited they had all been when they first made landfall, had thought that they were the first settlers in a new world.
He thought of the voices of Woody and Peeler as they rushed into the jungle to find bananas, how happy they’d been. And now they were stars?
Well, they’re better off as stars, said a voice within him. And the world is a better place with two fewer monsters in it.
He swallowed. Did I really just think that? It was a terrible thought, and he found it frightening that such a thing could even cross his mind. He felt his heart pounding inside him, and he raised his hand to touch his chest. His cold blue eye pulsed in its socket, and he felt a freezing shudder ripple down his back. Beneath his fingers he felt the beating of his heart. Yes, he thought. But which heart? Which pulse?
Falcon remembered the feeling he used to ge
t, sitting on the bus to Cold River Middle School, watching the different groups of kids as they sat in their various clusters. The goths and the emos at the back of the bus, the skateboard punks at the front, the jocks in the middle, the people whose lives revolved around band on the right, the people who couldn’t even carry a tune on the left. The whole world, it seemed, was divided into groups whose only certainty was the identity of their enemies. And here he was, trapped in the Pinnacle of Virtues, ensnared by the same set of annoying oppositions—the monsters who hated humans, the guardians who hated monsters. He’d come halfway around the world, only to wind up right back where he started.
Yeah, he thought, but one thing’s changed. It used to be that I didn’t know where I fit in. I used to feel outside of things because it was impossible for me to only see one point of view. But now, after this long journey, I know what I am.
Which is what? he asked himself. I’m half guardian and half monster. A muardian. A gonster. There didn’t seem to be much solace in finding one’s true self, if what you were was a thing that didn’t exist. What he was, in fact, was a creature who would never be at home anywhere in the world. I can’t be among humans because I’m part monster. I can’t be among monsters because I’m part guardian. And I can’t be among guardians because—well, because they’re murderous and cruel. Why was it so necessary, in order to survive in the world, that a creature had to decide to be one thing or another?
All he knew for certain was this: that every creature on Earth deserved the right to live in peace, and to follow the course of its own heart. It was a truth so obvious, so fundamental, it stunned him that neither guardians, nor monsters, nor humans seemed to be able to get their minds around it.
Monster a person though monster not human.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the sheet music that was Pearl and Max. The songs had titles. Pearl’s song was “La Chupakabra Bossa Nova.” Max’s song was called “The Sasquatch Waltz.” Both songs were marked ffff—which Falcon imagined meant quadruple forte, or, in other words, as loud as one could possibly play. He read the music and hummed the songs to himself now, softly. He was too tired, and too sad, to raise his voice above a whisper.
Falcon Quinn and the Black Mirror Page 23
