Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series)

by C. Deanna Verhoff

  Slingball player and Wybbil struggled for power over one another, while Mandy aimed the slingboard at White Feather, speeding up to plow right through him. He deftly jumped aside. The slingboard nosedived to the ground. Mandy landed in the sand on her side.

  “Mandy!” Olivia came running. “Are you okay?”

  Mandy stood, hacking up sand. “You disgusting little troll.” Without warning, she dropkicked him straight in the face. Cartilage crunched. White Feather held his nose. Thick brownish blood gushed over his mouth and down his beard. Mandy approached him, fists raised in fighting pose. As much as Glory hated that girl, right now she was cheering her on.

  “Stand down, Tullahn,” Needle jumped between Mandy and White Feather, pointing the glowing Nightburner at Mandy’s heart like a fencer. “I don’t want to hurt ye.”

  Matthew and Bone were in a wrestling match going nowhere.

  “What are you waiting for,” Matthew hollered at the others. “Run for the door.”

  Clash couldn’t run because he’d just jumped White Feather. “For Tullah!” he yelled, while White Feather spun in circles, trying to grab any section of Clash that he could reach.

  Olivia hurried through the open door alone. Mandy scooped Needle’s legs out from under him with a swing of her foot. After he hit the ground, she catapulted off his belly to beeline for the door.

  Matthew and Clash together wrestled Bone to the ground.

  “Don’t just sit there!” Clash screamed at Glory. “Run!”

  Caught in the moment, she ran for the little camp outside the door, dreaming of being free from the Bamboozle once and for all.

  When she got to the opening, it was like running head first into the side of a house. Her lungs deflated. Her body bounced against the invisible barrier. She landed on her back gasping for air. Stunned for a moment, the next thing she knew, tiny images of Needle and Clash circled around her head.

  “Aye,” Needle’s voice sounded like an echo in a deep valley. “I think she’s coming around.”

  “Where does it hurt?” Clash was beside her, stroking her hand. Hadn’t he escaped with the others? “Anything broken?”

  “Are we alive?” Glory moaned.

  “For now, I guess.”

  “Where’s the rest of them?”

  “A Wybbil in goggles got Olivia as soon as she ran out,” Clash informed. “The other two Wybbils ran off into the jungle after Matthew and Mandy.”

  “My companions will find the missing Tullahns soon enough,” Needle said, rubbing his shoulder. “Your friends caught us by surprise, but they won’t the second time around. I have the mind to let them stay in the jungle and let them find their own way off the island.”

  “They’re not my friends,” Glory said. “I told them not to jump you guys. Clash, you’re still here, why didn’t you go with them?”

  “And leave you here by yourself? No way.”

  “You should have left me.”

  “Partners in crime, friends to the end, remember?”

  Glory gave Clash’s hand a grateful squeeze. “Thank you.” Sitting up, she addressed Needle. “What are you going to do with the others when you catch them?”

  “Send them home, what else?”

  “Take Clash with you.”

  “Aye.”

  “I’m staying right here,” Clash said, squeezing Glory’s hand harder. “We’re best friends. Wherever she goes, I go.”

  “But she opened one of the magic doors,” Needle explained. “The test won’t end until death, victory, or submission to the authority that put her here. So it goes without saying she cannot leave the Bamboozle, which means if ye stay with her, neither can ye.”

  “I’m staying.”

  “But ye can’t go through the doors with her—so ye cannot help.”

  “He already went through the green door,” Glory pointed out.

  “He came from the green door into the Bamboozle, not from the Bamboozle into the green door. It’s not the same thing.”

  “No matter,” Clash said. “I’ll wait for her return.”

  “I see,” Needle said. “Stubbornness must the natural Tullahn disposition.”

  A Wybbil’s voice came from outside the door. “We’ve rounded up all the uninvited Tullahns except the runt.”

  Needle cupped his hand to holler back. “He’s with me and wants to stay in the Bamboozle.”

  “Come again?”

  “Ye heard me, he wants to stay in the Bamboozle with the Rock Collector.”

  “Let him. One less problem to take back to Tullah.”

  “All right then,” said Needle. He turned to address Glory. “While we deal with the others, I shall leave ye to continue the test.” With a tip of his hat, Needle went through the door and it vanished behind him, leaving not a single trace.

  Chapter 21

  Clash had a fine imagination and a thirst for adventure. His enthusiasm fed her courage. She watched him checking out the wall where the red door had been earlier. “I hope everybody’s okay out there,” she said. “I can’t tell reality from imagination in this stupid place.”

  “Great bloody gut bucket, it’s gone.” He was referring to the door. A dumb ole grin spread across his face. “This is like a dream come true—visiting another planet I mean.”

  “More like a nightmare come true if you ask me.” Glory pulled her knees up to her chest, watching him check out the other doors. He and the others had given them a thorough inspection, turning the handles, examining the seams, before they had tried to dig their way out with a spoon and fork. She didn’t know why Clash expected them to open this time around.

  “Remember how we used to pretend Glosh Cove was another planet and how we’d fight off zombies, space aliens and stuff?” Clash said as he knocked on the blue door. “Never in a millions years did I think it would ever happen. Me and you against the world, we always said, but this time it’s you and me against the whole friggin’ universe.”

  “I’m glad somebody’s happy about it.”

  “I hope you can forgive me for doubting your story.”

  “That really hurt.”

  “I’m sorry. Can we be friends again, Glo?”

  “I didn’t know we had ever stopped.”

  “Hey,” Clash said, spying something bulky lying in the sand. “Matthew’s backpack is still here.”

  “So is his slingboard,” Glory noted. “You ever fly one outside of gym class?”

  “Yep. My cousins have one, I’m not the best, but I get by.”

  “You?”

  “Only in gym class. I pretty much suck.”

  “What are you going to do about the Wybills?” Clash asked.

  “Dunno. What do you think I should do?”

  “Seems to me you’re in way over your head.”

  “Scurvy Sailor would say never surrender,” Glory said as she hooked Matthew’s backpack with her foot to drag it over into her lap. Normally, she wouldn’t invade somebody’s privacy like this, but she had no qualms about opening it under the circumstances. “He’s got a ton of junk in here. Hey, look!” She pulled out a king sized chocolate bar. “The jock was holding out on us. Want to go halfsies?”

  “Sure.”

  Pens, notebooks, books, undershorts and more came flying out of the backpack. “Isn’t he a little old for toy guns?” Clash held up Matthew’s toy pistol that shot foam bullets. “Too bad they’re not the real thing. Pow, Wybbils. Pow!”

  “I’d use my bullets on Mandy. Pow, right between the eyes!”

  The two friends snorted with laughter.

  As she let a square of chocolate melt on her tongue, Glory continued to dig through his belongings, finding a full water bottle. They passed it back and forth, deciding to conserve at least half of it.

  “Doesn’t he have anything useful,” she complained awhile, and then halted when her hands gripped a red plastic rectangle. “Wait a second, what’s this?”

  She held it up triumphantly.

  “His Sliver!”


  Clash snatched it away. “That looks like the latest version.” Clash snatched it away to open it. “It is! These things cost a bundle.”

  “Let me see,” Glory tried to grab for it, but Matthew hoisted it away. “Here,” he said shoving his own blue Sliver her way. “You can play with mine while I check out this one.”

  No matter how many times Glory used a Sliver, old versions or new, she marveled at how the tri-folds clicked into a stiff seamless surface. She powered on Clash’s blue Sliver. It was fully charged. So was Matthew’s. What a stroke of luck.

  “The lucky dog has unlimited data access,” Clash complained. “Must be nice to have that kind of dough.”

  “Wouldn’t it be freaky if we could connect to the data center from here?” Glory knew it was impossible, but she gave it a try just for kicks. No Connection Found, showed on the display. No surprise.

  “Hey, Glo.” Clash’s voice became reverent, as if he’d just stumbled upon the mother lode. “He has JunkYard Derby, version three.”

  “That’s not supposed to be available until next week!”

  “I know.”

  “Oh my gosh, link me up!”

  After a couple of minutes, both Slivers were linked together. Glory and Clash settled into the sand next to each other for a game of Junk Yard Derby, passing the hour crashing cars and trucks into one another, trying to be the first one to top Matthew’s high score.

  “What am I doing?” Glory finally asked the inevitable.

  “Beating the crap out of me,” Clash said. “Just five-thousand more and you’ll beat Matthew’s high score.”

  “No, I mean I can’t stay here forever. Neither can you. This is getting us nowhere.”

  She powered off the Sliver, letting her eyes fall on the spot she’d tried so hard to avoid.

  “What are you looking at?” Clash asked. “The blue door?”

  Glory nodded, speaking more to herself than to Clash. “I lived through the trial behind the green one, and for the life of me, I can’t see a connection between green and being naked on a bus. I’m trying to figure out what blue might mean, but I’m getting nothing.”

  “Water?”

  “That’s a possibility, ‘cept here the water’s violet. Blue is serene. Also sad.”

  “Could mean a million different things,” said Clash.

  “Might as well just go for it then—right?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Whatever danger waits, how can it be worse than what I’ve already been through?”

  “Death would be worse and there’s a lot of awful ways to die.”

  “I’d rather die than face the humiliation of public nudity again.” Her cheeks burned remembering. “The kids said I looked like I ate a lot of donuts? Am I really that fat?”

  “Heck no, Glo. You look good. Real good.”

  “Thank you,” she said, not believing anyone could really think that way about her. “If what happened was for real, how can I face anybody at school ever again?”

  “Over being naked?” Clash dismissed her concern with the wave of a hand. “People like to pretend, but when you get down to it, underneath we’re all just naked people hiding behind a bit of fabric. Hold your head high for being brave enough to let it all hang out.”

  “It wasn’t on purpose.”

  “Did you notice how Matthew gave me his coat on the bus? The way he pushed people out of the way for me? That was really gallant—don’t you think?”

  “Remember, I tried to give you my coat first.”

  “Have you noticed the way he says something to me every time I get on the bus?”

  “Yes, I have. And he’s very insulting.”

  “Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?”

  “Neither, just stating the facts, so don’t get any ideas about Matthew being the guy for you. Besides Mandy would kick your butt if she thinks you like her boyfriend.”

  “So, what should I do?”

  “Stay away from him.”

  “No, not about Matthew, about the door, should I go through it?”

  “I dunno.”

  “C’mon, you must have an opinion.”

  “I do, but you won’t like it.”

  “You think I should give up the Elboni Stone, don’t you?”

  “Since you’re asking, uh, yeah, I do.”

  “But then I won’t get the magic I need to help my family.”

  “What good is magic to a dead girl?”

  “Grandpa says never take your eye off the treasure. Giving it up will be like giving in.”

  “What’s wrong with giving up?”

  “Everything.”

  “Dying for no good reason is the worst form of giving up. If you ask me, staying alive is the best way not to give up.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna go through the blue door.”

  “Please, don’t.”

  She sucked in some deep breaths and stood. “I have to do it.” Afraid of losing gumption, she ignored Clash’s protests, went to the blue door, and pulled the handle. A familiar span of sand stretched out before her. Ignoring the queasy feeling, she marched on through with fists tight at her side.

  Penetrating darkness surrounded her. The familiar damp clay smell filled her nostrils. I’m in a cave, she knew that much. What she didn’t know was if she had the Cold Crazies or not. Why can’t I remember how I got here? She reached for her helmet light, but she had no hat at all. Her hands instantly fumbled for one of the flashlights in her bag, but she had no bag. She quickly ran her hands over the length of her body. Not a single tool or light anywhere. Her stomach dropped as if it had sprouted legs and jumped off a cliff.

  “Clash?” she called out hoping her spelunking partner was nearby.

  No answer.

  “Partners in crime,” She said, awaiting his customary reply. Nothing but silence, so she answered for him. “Friends ‘til the end?”

  The only sound was her voice echoing back. End, end, end.

  This was the deepest blackness she’d ever known. Fear rushed in like a flash flood. For all she knew a drop-off could be waiting at the very next step.

  “Stay calm,” she repeated from her spelunking handbook. “Assess the situation.”

  Suddenly, she became aware of something warm against her chest. Fingering the metal, and the cord attached to it, she somehow knew it was a lifeline out of here.

  “Blow...the...whistle...to...negotiate...” the words fell off the tip of her tongue

  She pressed it to her lips and blew. An oval of light the size of a door appeared and through it walked the ugliest man she had ever seen. He was short with mean almond eyes. His whiskers looked like slimy pink night crawlers, all squirmy and gross. The three-piece suit and fedora made him looked like an old-fashioned gangster.

  “Hello, figment of the cold crazies,” she greeted.

  “Hello, Rock Collector,” he said in a brittly voice. “Ready to negotiate the Elboni for your freedom?”

  “Uh, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Grrr,” the strange guy grumbled. “Short term memory evaporates behind the doors. A touch from the Paraplume will bring it back.” He brushed Glory’s forehead with the tip of a white feather. She giggled because it tickled, then everything clicked into place.

  “The Bamboozle,” she said. “Am I there or here—I mean is this really Tullah?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Either ye leave with me and live, or ye stay here and die, the choice be yours.”

  “But you’ll only help me out of here if I give up the Elboni, so it’s not really up to me, is it?”

  “What will it be?”

  “I choose to make a trade…a wish in exchange for the Elboni.”

  “Not an option, Rock Collector.”

  She crossed her arms. “See. The choice isn’t mine at all.” The blue light from the oval looked pretty shining off the cave walls, casting everything i
n cold sapphire a glow. She hugged herself for warmth. “I’m scared.”

  “Naturally.”

  “But I’m more scared of losing my family.”

  “If Wybb loses her magic, millions on Wybb will lose everything they hold dear.”

  “Just give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want. It’s so simple!”

  “Wybb has rules. Obedience to these rules keeps the magic alive.”

  “Rules schmools!” She said, fighting back tears of frustration.

  “The Elboni, Rock Collector.”

  “It’s...it’s...” her resolve thinned in the face of so much darkness.

  Never take your eyes off the treasure. Grandpa’s words looped in her mind. Never take your eyes off the treasure. A memory of her family five years ago entered her mind. Mom was alive. The whole family sat around the Father Winter’s Day tree opening presents. They all got along and were happy. That’s the goal, she realized.

  “Well, where be the stone?”

  “Um, er.” Eyes stared longingly at the oval of light. “I’m not gonna tell.”

  White Feather’s brow furrowed. His eyes turned to slits. “I told them this would be a wasted trip. Don’t blow the whistle again until ye mean it.”

  “Please, don’t go,” she pleaded.

  “Sorry, Rock Collector, this be yer nightmare, not mine.” With that, he jumped back in the oval of light.

  “Wait! At least leave me a flashlight or a candle or something!”

  She tried to follow, but a gnarly hand came out of the oval and pushed her back.

  A second later utter darkness returned and so did the forgetfulness. What am I doing in Queen’s Mesa without any gear? Chin quivering, too afraid to walk, Glory dropped to her knees and opted on crawling instead. She used her hands like feelers, scraping her palms on sharp rocks. She sensed an incline. Progress, if progress at all, was painstakingly slow. Despite the chill droplets of sweat pooled down the end of her nose, dropping onto the back of her hands and forearms.

  The sound of sniffing sounded like joyful music, because search dogs meant fellow spelunkers were here to rescue her.

  “Over here!” she called out, relief spilling out of every pore. “I’m over here!” She waited a few minutes, but there was no answer except her echo coming back to her. Maybe she had only imagined the dogs.