Lord of Monsters

by John Claude Bemis

  Unburdened of her load, the aleya pushed her way through the bars and hovered over Lazuli’s shoulder.

  “Now to open it,” Lazuli said. “I’ve never done this before, so you might want to back away.”

  The aleya went to the far side of the cell and then seemed to reconsider, heading out the window instead.

  Lazuli dug her nails into the thick skin of the thunderfruit. She held her breath. As gingerly as she could manage, she pried the fruit open. Nothing exploded. Thankfully.

  Inside, the fruit had only a shallow layer of juicy flesh, but the core was a nest of tiny dark seeds. Carefully, one by one, she plucked them out and started a pile at the base of the door.

  She had no idea how many she needed. Not enough and she’d only manage to alert the guards. Too many of the seeds and…well, she didn’t want to think about that. She settled on half.

  Then moving all the way across the room, she picked up a rock. She looked to the window. “Wish me luck.”

  The aleya made a tiny, apprehensive plink.

  Lazuli tossed the stone. It missed the seeds, bouncing against the door before rattling to one side. Lazuli blew a hard breath and picked up the next stone.

  She adjusted her aim and tossed it. The stone missed. “Come on!” she told herself.

  Lazuli remembered Rion’s archery lesson, how he’d “let his arrow find the target” simply by making subtle manipulations of the wind. Taking another stone, she squinted and made a throw—sending a bit of breeze to guide it.

  She could see in that fraction of an instant before the stone landed that she had done it. Throwing herself to one side, she covered her face as the seeds erupted in a thunder crack of explosive force.

  Pieces of debris rained down on her. A few chunks hit her in the back. Her ears were ringing fiercely, but otherwise she seemed to be in one piece. What about the door?

  She shot up and saw the bottom of the door had been blown to splinters. Only the top half hung on its hinges, and even that fell away with a crash a second later.

  “Quick!” she shouted at the aleya. “Go out in the hallway and listen for the guards.”

  The aleya popped through the bars and disappeared around the corner. Lazuli scooped a handful of the Sands of Sleep from the pouch. She slowly walked toward the door. When she was just a step away, she stopped and waited.

  The thundering of her heart in her ears was almost as loud as the ringing. Then the aleya shot back to the cell, tinkling. Lazuli could hear the guards shouting and running down the hall. She drew a deep breath.

  When they sounded almost to the door, she stepped out and summoned a wind, sending the Sands of Sleep scattering across the half-dozen surprised sylphs charging her way.

  One after the other they dropped to the floor. Lazuli watched them a tense moment, waiting to see if they were really asleep. When none of them moved, she listened for whether more guards were on the way. She heard nothing. But then a faint banging came from down the hall. The aleya made a shrill note and whipped down the long hallway, bobbing up and down outside a door toward the far end.

  Lazuli ran after her. At the little barred window in the door, she was met by the fox’s flabbergasted face.

  “Lazuli?” Mezmer gasped.

  “I’m getting you out,” Lazuli said.

  She ran back toward her cell. She still had half the seeds, but with a quick glance, she spotted a ring of keys in a sleeping guard’s hand. That would be easier. And safer.

  “Thank you very much,” she whispered to the guard, snatching his keys.

  It took her several tries before she found the right key. With a turn and a pull, she had the door open, and Mezmer threw her arms around her. “Good work, my clever prester.”

  Over Mezmer’s shoulder she saw the beaming faces of Sop, Kataton, Goliath, and the three kirin sisters.

  “Now,” Mezmer said, letting go. “Which way is out?”

  “I think that way,” Lazuli said, pointing to the snoring pile of guards.

  They raced down the hallway past the ruined door of Lazuli’s cell.

  “Wait!” Sop said. “Where’s Kataton?”

  The chimera lumbered slowly down the hall after them. “Coming.”

  “Um, Kataton, old pal,” Sop called, waving urgently with his paws. “Now might be one of those times—”

  Voices echoed from the stairwell up ahead.

  “More guards!” Mezmer snarled. “And we’ve got no weapons.”

  Lazuli pushed them into her cell. “We’ve got one weapon at our disposal.” She carefully picked up the remaining pile of thunderfruit seeds. Stepping back into the hallway, she waited until the guards appeared.

  “The princess has broken out!” the first shouted when he saw Lazuli. “Get her!”

  “I’m not the princess,” Lazuli grumbled. “And don’t come a step closer.”

  The guards seemed about to continue their charge, but then their eyes fell on their sleeping comrades sprawled across the floor. Lazuli held up one of the seeds, giving them a meaningful look. The seeds hadn’t put them to sleep, but Lazuli figured these guards didn’t need to know all the details. As long as the threat kept them back.

  “Drop your arrows,” she commanded.

  “What do we do?” one of the guards hissed.

  “Drop them,” the first guard said to the others crowded at the end of the hallway. Arrows clattered to the floor.

  “Your Majesty,” Goliath called from the cell door. “The general needs you.”

  Sop stepped out and held out a hand. “I’ll watch these idiots.”

  Lazuli eased the seeds into Sop’s palm. “If they come for you,” she whispered, “just throw one or two of these. The bang will be enough to scare them back.”

  Sop cackled. “Oh, I hope they come for me.”

  When Lazuli was back in the cell, Mezmer said, “We need a way to get past those guards. If we can only get topside, Wini, Fini, and Pini can fly us away.”

  The kirins bobbed their horns in eager agreement.

  “Is there more of the Sands of Sleep?” Mezmer asked.

  “There is,” Lazuli said, touching a hand to the pouch, “but we’ll need it for—”

  Goliath raised a hand to silence them. Then he tilted his head as if listening for something.

  “What is it?” Lazuli asked.

  “I heard a faint voice.”

  Kataton swiveled his eyes toward the door. “More. Guards?”

  “I hear it too.” Mezmer’s tall ears rotated slowly. “It’s not coming from outside. It’s in here somewhere. Don’t you hear it?”

  Lazuli only heard the ringing from when she’d blown the door. “I don’t—”

  But then she did hear the tiniest, muffled voice say, “Your Majesty!”

  “Where’s that coming from?” Wini asked.

  Then Lazuli remembered. “Riggle!” She had forgotten all about the superfluous worm Pinocchio had been carrying.

  She grabbed the satchel from the floor and dug out the small silver box. When she opened the lid, the worm’s pink head broke from the dirt.

  “They have arrived, Your Majesty,” he piped.

  “Who has?” Lazuli asked.

  “Master Geppetto,” the worm replied. “I told him that you had been imprisoned. He requests, Your Majesty, that you wave a hand out the window so he can locate which room you’re in.”

  Mezmer shoved an arm through the bars and gave a wave. “I don’t see anything. Are you sure…Oh, wait. I can’t be seeing this right!” She laughed. “Cinnabar, you ol’ fire eater, darling! Is that you? What took you so long?”

  “Cinnabar’s here?” Lazuli tried to look through the window, but Mezmer was blocking her view.

  She couldn’t tell what was out there, how Geppetto and the djinni had arrived, but then she heard Cinnabar’s voice saying, “Attach this grappling hook to the bars. And back up! It’ll probably take out some of the masonry too.”

  Mezmer hustled her knights back to the f
ar side of the room, watching the window.

  “What’s going on?” Sop called from the hallway.

  “You’ll see, darling. Just keep those guards where they are.”

  “Crank the winch!” they heard Cinnabar order.

  There was a click, click, click and then the entire frame of bars pulled from the windowsill with an explosive crack, littering the floor with crumbled stone. As the dust cleared from the air, Cinnabar landed in the hole where the window had been.

  “Come quickly, Your Majesty!” he urged, holding out a hand to help Lazuli up.

  When she climbed through the hole, her mouth fell open at what she saw.

  A flying ship was hovering outside. However where the sides of the hull and sails should have been was nothing but fog, nearly invisible against the dawn skies beyond. But there—seemingly floating in midair—was the dark, stained wood of the large deck, with several dozen gnomes all standing around. Master Geppetto’s face appeared as he pulled back a chameleon cloak to reveal himself.

  “Can you jump, Your Majesty?” he said, holding out a hand.

  Of course she could. Gladly! She landed on the deck gracefully and squeezed Geppetto around the neck.

  “What is this?” Lazuli gasped. “How did you find us?”

  “You can thank Riggle,” he said.

  She was still holding his box. The little worm inside tipped his head bashfully.

  Tiny Chief Muckamire marched up. “And as for this…” The gnome waved a hand to the ship. “May I present your royal vessel—the Lionslayer.”

  “The what?” Lazuli asked.

  “The name was Cinnabar’s idea,” Geppetto said. “As were the improvements.”

  She glanced from the mechanical winch that had pulled the bars from the window to the massive crossbow cannons mounted at the stern and then over to Cinnabar, who was continuing to help the other knights aboard.

  “Told you my gnomes would do something fine with that Venetian flying ship you left with us.” Chief Muckamire laughed. “Master Geppetto, Cinnabar, and my gnomes—we’ve all been working on it around the clock. Starting on additional ships as well.”

  “But it’s invisible,” Lazuli said, still amazed.

  Geppetto tugged on his mustache. “We’ve covered the hull, masts, and sails in material similar to what’s used in chameleon cloaks. Made it easy to sneak up to the Mist Cities. But won’t be long before they realize we’re here.”

  The last of the kirins leaped through the window onto the Lionslayer.

  “All aboard?” Chief Muckamire asked.

  “Wait!” Kataton said, seeming to work hard to get the words out swiftly. “Where. Is. Sop?”

  There was a bang, followed by several more. Then Sop, cupping his hand around the rest of his seeds, climbed up to the window and jumped on board. He was cackling with laughter.

  “All right, so I threw more than two. No real harm done. I think one of those guards wet himself.”

  “Hoist the main,” Cinnabar barked. “Let’s shove off!”

  The gnomes scattered around the deck to positions and soon the ship turned to fly away.

  “Let’s get you belowdecks, darling,” Mezmer said, “in case we’re spotted.”

  At that moment, a cry rang out from above. “The prisoners are escaping!”

  Up at a watchtower sprouting from the side of the palace, a sylph guard was pointing to them. Along the walls, more sylphs appeared, staring down in shock at the half-invisible flying ship. But none of them were armed. The Sky Hunters had all left for the Moonlit Court.

  The ship sailed off, and Lazuli followed Mezmer down the gangway.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Geppetto caught her arm. “Lazuli.”

  Her heart gave a lurch as she saw for the first time how raw his eyes were. Geppetto opened his mouth to speak, but his lips trembled falteringly. “Pinocchio?” he said. “Riggle said—” A choke stole rest of his words.

  She put her arms around him and squeezed. More tears came, but this time she didn’t care who saw.

  When she blinked her eyes open, she found Chief Muckamire, hands laced together, watching her and Geppetto with a look of utmost sadness.

  “I’ve long admired Lady Sapphira,” the gnome said. “But she made a tragic mistake with Prester Pinocchio.”

  Lazuli cast her eyes to the floor. “I shouldn’t have kept the truth about Pinocchio from her…from you and our people.”

  “You did it for good reason!” Chief Muckamire said. “I admit that like all our people, I have believed that the workings of Venice’s alchemist were something sinister. But I feel differently now that I’ve been working side by side with Master Geppetto and Cinnabar. Different about Venetian alchemy and different about Prester Pinocchio.”

  The gnome shook his head. “If Lady Sapphira only could have known what I now know…how he was loved. How he cared about those that we Noble Lords have scorned. Cinnabar told me of the bracelet he wears, of the promise Prester Pinocchio made to help our brethren enslaved in the Venetian Empire. I feel ashamed….” He puffed up his beard. “We must make amends.”

  But Lazuli was the one burning with shame. “It’s my fault, what happened to Pinocchio,” she said, unable to look at Geppetto. “Lady Sapphira is my aunt…and I should have…”

  Geppetto gave a squeeze to her shoulder. “You only wanted to protect Pinocchio,” he said. “And now you must help protect Abaton.”

  Lazuli couldn’t bring herself to answer.

  “Lady Sapphira…what she did to…” Geppetto fought to form the words but couldn’t. He cleared his throat before saying, “But your aunt needs you. Abaton needs you. You have the Sands of Sleep. We have this warship. We must help your aunt stop these monsters.”

  Cinnabar appeared in the top of the gangway. “My apologies for interrupting, Your Majesty. But where should we go?”

  Chief Muckamire and Geppetto watched her expectantly.

  Lazuli drew in a deep breath. “To the Moonlit Court.” She wasn’t sure what her aunt would do when she saw her niece again—whether she’d declare Lazuli a traitor or accept her help. But she couldn’t let fear get in the way. “How quickly can you get us there, Cinnabar?”

  “How quickly?” Cinnabar gave a crooked smile. “Oh, we’ve made some nice adjustments to the speed, Your Majesty. A little trick I learned from the alchemists of Venice.”

  He called to a gnome. “Wumble, light the canisters.”

  “Aye, aye,” the gnome said with a salute. He hurried down a gangway and disappeared through a trapdoor into the belly of the ship.

  A moment later, a sound like a fiery furnace erupted from the ship’s stern. With the sun rising, the Lionslayer gathered speed and flew past the Mist Cities, racing off across Abaton.

  Gray nothingness hung all around Pinocchio. If it hadn’t been for the slow shifting of the thick fog, he would have felt like he was embedded in a chunk of colorless stone. Out beyond his line of sight, monsters crept through the murk, finding places to rest or fighting with one another in short, vicious battles. But these attacks sounded more like play than real. None of the monsters were seriously injured.

  Except for the wyvern.

  Pinocchio listened to the low moans of the wyvern with teeming guilt, like the cavity of his wooden belly had been filled with termites chewing away his insides.

  For a moment, the mists parted. He spied the manticore crouched beside the wyvern with one heavy paw resting on the hollow between the wyvern’s wings, whispering to the dying creature. The wyvern’s long, serpentine head lifted feebly to lick at the bleeding gash that had split his scaly side. He let out a small groan before letting his head flop back to the misty ground.

  Pinocchio looked down at the bloodstained sword in his hands. “He was going to eat you,” he said to Maestro.

  “Believe me,” the cricket whispered from his shoulder. “I’m not complaining!”

  “But I shouldn’t have…” Pinocchio’s voice trailed off. “I didn�
�t mean to…”

  “You did what you had to do to protect us both. Besides,” Maestro added, “these monsters respect warriors. They don’t blame you. If…you must realize, if you hadn’t fought so well, they surely would be more keen to devour us by now.”

  Pinocchio nodded briskly.

  The wyvern let out another plaintive cry. Pinocchio dropped his head.

  “Come on,” Maestro said. “Let’s not listen. I don’t like the idea of anything sneaking up on us, but let’s go somewhere else until…it’s over.”

  Pinocchio got listlessly to his feet and went deeper into the fog. Soon the sounds of the dying wyvern faded. As they went, Pinocchio stared down at his feet.

  “What happened to me, Maestro?” he asked. “Back at the Opaque Palace.”

  Maestro shifted on his shoulder. “Lady Sapphira saw what you were. What you’d become. She was upset, understandably, I suppose. But she didn’t have to throw you down here!”

  What Pinocchio had dreaded since arriving in Abaton had finally happened. And just as he’d expected—just as Lazuli and his father and Maestro had all warned—once his people discovered he was an automa, they’d reacted with horror. They wanted him gone.

  “But the Pearl…” Pinocchio said.

  “You took it out,” Maestro said. “Oh, why did you have to do that?”

  “I was giving it to Lazuli.”

  Maestro sighed. “Well, Lady Sapphira has it now. And hopefully she’ll return it to Lazuli. But she was upset with Lazuli too, for hiding your secret from her. Still, I can’t comprehend how you’re…this way.” He flicked his antennae. “You’re yourself! Except you’re not. I mean, you’re an automa, but you’re not acting like you did the last time you were an automa. What’s going on?”

  Pinocchio shook his head. Maybe it had something to do with being in these mists. Or maybe it was just some last bits of the Pearl’s powers clinging inside him. Would they fade? Would he lose himself again?

  He missed the sensation of being human. The way this fog might have felt cool against his skin. The way the little hairs on his arms might tickle under the breeze. But this wood only felt dull and thick, and his movements as he walked throught the insubstantial world of the prison felt clumsy and stiff. He longed for his old body, his old self, his true self. Or was this his true self?