“Forty-two point seven percent complete,” rang out the metallic voice.
Cheating his way out of the wrestling match, Demus vanished and reappeared ten yards away from Regi, who was now in the awkward position of applying a headlock to thin air. Demus entered a spell on Regi, who suddenly found himself entangled into two sets of knots made of glowing gold rope. One golden rope tied his left foot to his left hand, and the other bound his right foot to his right hand. Exerting and struggling like a Mortal bound to a set of train tracks, Regi fought to free himself of the trap. Not only did the magic ropes render his mystic powers much weaker, but they also sapped his strength.
“Good job, Demus!” Indie shouted out in support.
Amanda’s heart beat rapidly as she awaited the updates on the Rubik’s Cube solution. From seeing the colors solidify and amalgamate, Amanda knew that the end was near.
“Eighty-seven point two percent complete,” boomed the cube.
“Come on, Amanda,” Indie said gleefully, “come out of here. You’re mine.” Suddenly, Indie found handcuffs on her wrists. She shrieked. She rapidly turned to see Demus gone. In his place was a giant puzzle box of interlocking pieces, solved only by complex manipulations of the parts within. Demus was trapped inside.
Staring ahead at Indie, defiant, was Justica, assuming a combat pose.
“Justica,” gasped Indie. Regaining her resentment, she easily broke apart the chain that linked her handcuffs. Advancing menacingly toward Justica, Indie snarled, “So the boys are all tied up. It’s just you and me, sister.”
Justica said nothing, but retained her cool. She remained poised, ready to strike into action.
“Why, Justica?” Indie asked, exasperated. “Why are you supporting traitors to our cause?”
Giving up on freeing himself, Regi blurted out, “Show me your key.” Instantly, the ropes elongated themselves, yet intertwined, so Regi was still unable to slip loose. He understood the pattern instinctively. It was a rope puzzle. If he could slip the loops here and there, all the ropes would come undone. He would then be free. His mind furiously attempted to work through the logic of disentangling the loops that blocked his freedom.
Demus, trapped in the puzzle box conjured by Justica, also yelled out, “Show me your key.” Parts started sliding in and out, indicating to Demus that he had to slide the correct sequence of interlocking pieces in order to find a path out. He started feverishly using his magic to thrust one complex piece out at a time.
Both female wizards glanced at the three puzzles that remained unsolved. Both sensed an impasse; it was a frustrating moment in the battle.
“Elsedor would not have wanted it this way,” asserted Justica.
Indie’s frustration bubbled close to the surface. The moment Elsedor had wanted, a thousand years ago, was at hand, and all the proper steps had been diligently followed. As de facto leader of the Liberators of the NAM contingent, her reputation – and her legacy – was at stake.
“We know what Elsedor wanted!” Indie yelled. “He forecast The Prophecy!” She clenched her fist in front of Justica to demonstrate her emphasis. “Justica, our moment of truth is at hand. We’re so close to the future. All you need to do is join with us, and rule the world. You saw that Regi was a liar. Please, Justica. Cast aside your anger and vote for a powerful destiny.”
“With my heart, I believe in Elsedor,” Justica said. She stepped back. “I’m not sure you reflect his values.”
Indie exhaled. She was at peace now. “So be it. Either you are with us, or you are against us. Since you’re clearly against us, I have no choice. I’m sorry, Justica.”
Justica made no move, and Indie knew what she had to do. Sighing, she propelled Justica into the air, suspended. Instantly, she conjured up a blinking dodecahedron surrounding Justica, trapping her. Only the twenty dots of the geometric figure defined it. However, every split second, the twenty dots shifted from its geometric center, forming a brand new dodecahedron. The rotation was so rapid, it appeared there were more than a hundred dots piercing the air around Justica at any moment. And Justica had to time her escape through one of the pentagon faces at exactly the right moment. It was impossible to predict. She knew that her chances of escaping through the correct portal at one time was one out of 131,072.
“This is my gift to you from Elsedor,” Indie spoke, almost bored. “Since you evoked his name, you shall receive his most prized permutation.” She bragged, “This is my most complex magic trick, one that took me many years to master. You shall not escape, even if you ask for the key.”
“Very impressive,” Justica admitted, her eyes sad. “What you don’t understand is how you’ve defeated yourself.”
“Excuse me?” Indie swiveled her head, daring Justica to defy her.
Justica gazed at Indie from her perch in the sky. “Remember the Ten Doctrines. Rule number two and ten.”
The wizard in purple flashed anger. “How dare you! Do not use force. Teamwork is all. I certainly am not violating any of the Ten Doctrines!”
Her companion in blue answered, “Think about it, Indie. Do the right thing. Think about the true legacy of Elsedor.”
“Get out!” Indie screeched. With a sudden movement of her arm, she cast aside the geodesic sphere, so that Justica was transferred half a mile away, out of sight, out of mind.
“So many puzzles,” she said to herself, “What a waste. Wizards love puzzles, but enough is enough. Next, Amanda.” Smugly, she spoke to the Rubik’s Cube. “Amanda, your time’s up. It’s just you and me, and it’s a very unfair fight, I must admit. I am a wizard. You are only a Mortal.”
Amanda gazed through the multi-hued wall. She was exhausted, and no longer cared about running away. She spat back at Indie, “In that sense, you’re a coward. Only cowards pick battles which they know they will win.”
Indie drew her breath in sharply. “I won’t waste any more breath on your pathetic existence.” She started visualizing the solution, zooming in on the patterns on the cube. Within seconds, the patterns started flitting by Amanda once again.
Hyperventilating, Amanda saw four solid walls: white, red, green, and orange. Her heart sinking, she saw the other two walls: both half blue, half yellow.
“Ninety-seven point six percent complete,” the robotic voice announced ominously.
“Mine soon, all mine,” Indie snickered, tantalizingly eyeing her prize.
“Solution complete,” the cube announced.
“Aha!” Indie cried out as the cube vanished, leaving an exposed Amanda shivering in the open air.
“Not so fast!” boomed Regi’s voice.
“Regi! You’re out!” Indie yelled contemptuously. Facing Regi, she froze in place, thinking up her next line of attack against him.
“Run, Amanda!” Regi shouted after her.
“No!” Indie countered. Not having time to dispose of Amanda, Indie conjured a secondary spell upon the Mortal, shutting her off inside a closed tower that materialized right beside the feuding wizards.
Now no longer distracted, she focused on the battle with Regi.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Amanda found herself enclosed in a pitch dark, claustrophobic space. She smelled oily, musty wood around her, and experienced dry, hot air that was deadly still. So stuffy, it was hard to breathe normally. She stretched her hands to touch the low ceiling. The ceiling was also wood, and only about one foot above the top of her head. The walls were only four feet wide and four feet deep, so that she could not fully extend her arms anywhere in the narrow space.
She felt a drag on her shoes, and heard splashing. She kicked some sort of liquid onto her ankles, feeling uneasy. The liquid now rose up to her ankles and felt cool. There was no smell, just the lingering rancid oil stench within the air. She guessed the liquid must be water.
Now the water was up to her knees. She started to panic in the tight space, banging on the walls. “Help me! Help me!” She cried out.
Rapidly, the water rose. It was n
ow up to her waist. Although it was pitch dark, Amanda closed her eyes. She knew what she had to do.
“Show me your key,” she chanted.
Suddenly, there was a beam of light at the top, blinding her temporarily. The water rushed out where a wall fell at an angle, dragging her with it. She fell, flailing. Her hands on the wall, she felt a plop as the slab landed on top of a small pool created by the released water. As she blinked in the bright light, her face immediately felt the searing heat within. Again that overpowering oily, musty smell. Am I in a boiler room? The scene immediately reminded her of a tour she’d once taken with a small group of girlfriends at Universal Studios. It was a walk-through attraction where she was struck with awe as she witnessed disaster after disaster carefully orchestrated, with propane tanks, wind combines, realistic looking props, and dozens of gears and motors. One of the rooms was a warehouse set containing fake barrels, purporting to contain oil. As she shrieked with her friends back then, tenaciously controlled pressure valves on hidden propane pipes had released carefully timed spurts of large flames behind the barrels. She recalled the burst of heat she’d experienced on her exposed skin during such flame-ups, orchestrated for entertainment. Plus that strong, sickly smell of propane and stale air.
But this wasn’t a show. This was real.
She absorbed her surroundings. She was now in some sort of hallway. The ceiling – perforated metal – was about ten feet high. Mounted torches on the walls, arranged in a series on both sides, provided the necessary illumination. There was a wide steel ramp – touching wall to wall – right underneath her feet, inclining slightly upward in front of her.
Due to the odd convergence of slopes – the wall-to-wall ramp sloped upward, while the metallic ceiling sloped down – it appeared at the end of the hallway, the gap was only six feet, compared to ten feet where she was standing now.
Along the hallway, the walls were constructed of wooden planks. A partial metal ladder – lined up perpendicularly to her – hovered just about ten feet in front of her, leading to a small square opening that she could probably fit through. To get at the elevated ladder, she’d have to jump up really high, and try to grab the lowest rung. She peered further down the ramp, to the end of the hallway. Another metal ladder, also on a perpendicular plane, this time wholly complete and connected to the bottom ramp, led up to another steel ramp above, with a drop-off zone immediately beside. She shuddered what would happen if she fell off the upper ramp, near the ladder.
What’s this? Is this some sort of twisted, bizarre amusement park attraction? Am I supposed to find my way out?
For the first time, she was aware of humming noises from above, which sounded distant but were picking up in volume each passing second. Suddenly, there were also banging noises, like the sound of heavy objects dropping onto a floor.
What was that?
She blocked these threatening sounds from her consciousness and briskly contemplated her escape. Best to walk to the end of the hallway, climb the ladder, and see where it led. A nagging doubt scratched at the base of her throat; she swallowed with fear. What if Indie had conjured up a monster to stalk her above? What if the monster was on its way down, searching for her? But, she told herself, this was the key that the magic had voluntarily surrendered to her, to find a way out. And it couldn’t block her, as long as she did it right.
Bam! Bam! Two deafening thuds landed directly above her head. She froze.
Unseen, heavy objects rolled directly above her! She could hear the rumbling sound. Feverishly, she realized that these heavy objects – huge spheroid boulders, just like the one in the Raiders of the Lost Ark movie, perhaps? – would fall off at the end, and then reel back toward her. Her eyes darted frantically. If there were huge spheres, where could she dive? She was trapped.
Immobilized, she waited her fate.
Two more – bam! bam! – but more widely spaced apart in timing.
Her eyes made out two flaming objects rolling straight ahead at her.
They weren’t huge, perfectly round spheroids – not like the one in the first Indiana Jones movie, anyway.
They were barrels!
Two medium-sized, flaming, wooden barrels rumbling on straight at her. From the momentum they displayed – and from the thundering noises they had made while dropping and then landing – she knew they were very heavy. The flames – perhaps the barrels carried oil. Very combustible, and highly dangerous.
Although she freaked out for a brief second, her senses still alerted her that it would do no good to stop these barrels dead in their tracks with her foot. They were too massive, too heavy – they’d roll straight over her.
Amanda’s flight impulse finally took over. Calculating that the barrels were only three feet high, she dared herself to run straight at them. Her memories of doing hurdles in track and field during high school instinctively clicked in. Straighten one leg out ahead; tuck the other leg behind. The first barrel was about to strike. Now. She leaped, and cleared the first barrel, barely escaping its licking flames. Seeing the second one looming right ahead, she took only two more steps before leaping again. Just barely – because she was allowed only two steps to recover and work up her strength – she made it. The hem of her dress caught on fire.
Gasping and panting, Amanda heard an ear-splitting crash behind her. Both barrels smashed against the spot where she’d not long ago been imprisoned, and split wide open, creating a pile of splintered wood and metal slabs. Oil oozed out, and caught on fire. It sloshed into the small reservoir of water, repelled the act of mixing in, and quickly bobbed to the surface, carrying the fire. The flames danced malevolently on top of the slick oil surface, blasting searing heat Amanda’s way. Her dress was burning up more! Amanda swatted at the small fire. She snuffed it out, leaving burn marks on the cloth.
With scarcely any time to collect her wits, she heard more banging and rolling sounds from above. More barrels were on their way. Sprinting ahead, Amanda reached the ladder at the end of the ramp, and climbed it quickly. Atop the second ramp, she nervously gazed at the drop zone, looming just beside her feet on her right, knowing it was the spot where the two now-smashed barrels had tumbled down to the floor. She mustn’t fall off there.
To her left, she contemplated the now-familiar sight: a long hallway, another ascending wall-to-wall metal ramp, a similarly descending ceiling, and two ladders; only that these ladders were now complete from floor to ceiling.
This looks familiar. She knew. She had seen this before, only, it wasn’t in real life, it was some memory of the theme. The flaming barrels, rolling and dropping, one level at a time. Jumping over barrels. The escape ladders. Going up and up. The perforated metal ramps.
Donkey Kong!
She was in a real-life, Donkey Kong simulation! She’d remembered the game she had played countless times in the vintage arcades, where she’d play for five dollars for twenty minutes, and savoured every phaser shot she’d made, every pinball that rested in a drop zone momentarily to rack up points, and every time she’d heard the just-turned-blue ghost of Ms. Pac-Man go blip when eaten by the brassy, busybody bow-tied yellow dot.
Now she knew the game, she knew what she had to do. She focused so clear; she could visualize reaching the top platform, right opposite the giant ape named Donkey Kong, safely away from these pesky flaming barrels. Her hearted lightened, although she knew she was still in great danger. She had to keep jumping – or strategically hiding under a jutting edge of an overhead ramp while waiting for the barrels to drop and then climbing quickly up the ladder before those barrels rebounded toward her – in order to reach the top.
Now she was ready. This level, then four more to go!
Two fiery barrels ahead now… spaced apart. Time for that double jump again. More eager this time, she cleared them both. This time, her dress didn’t catch fire. Make no mistake. This was still dangerous. A badly timed maneuver, as she’d known from her countless hours on the arcade game, would mean one life lost on the scree
n. It was enough to cause her to cuss and swear every time she’d heard that annoying beeping noise every time her video game hero “died.” Except this time, that one life wouldn’t be a statistic on a flat electronic billboard. It would be hers.
Now halfway up the second level ramp, Amanda hesitated as she grabbed the middle ladder. She’d recalled from Donkey Kong that the dreaded barrels had a nasty habit of dropping through the openings above any ladder they chose – cruelly random. If she went up this ladder now, she could be smashed on her head – and then her short-lived game would be over. For good.
Gotta take risks, she thought. Besides, she’d remembered that usually the barrels were more ‘friendly’ during the early moments of the game, then grew more aggressive the longer she dared to challenge with her continued presence. Agilely, she climbed the middle ladder as fast as she could, desperate to catch her first glimpse of the third level.
Peering through the opening, her nerves became shot as she saw another barrel heading down her way. Get up! Now! She scrambled to her feet, and then with no time to accumulate speed, she jumped straight up. Mercifully, she jumped over it successfully.
Third level. She knew this would be the point where, after defying the game this far, Donkey Kong would be unleashing more of his fury toward her. Indeed, she could now faintly hear the roars and chest-thumping of the most famous electronic ape in history. If that was him.
She ran to the end of the ramp, and heard a very loud signal directly above her head – a barrel was whirling into the same direction she was heading. It was still behind her. Quick, to the “retreat” space that afforded only a few precious seconds of extra time. She whizzed past the ladder, panting with exhaustion. Listening acutely, she realized that the barrel had chosen not to scoot down the ladder she had just passed, but would roll a little further, then fall off the drop zone at the end of the upper ramp. That meant only one thing. It was about to drop right beside her! Panicking, she climbed the ladder, now seeing the cylinder of flames soar – as if frozen in motion – through the air, just a few feet away. After landing and bouncing off the end wall, the barrel rolled backwards, straight at her. She pulled up her feet on the ladder just in time, as the fiery object cruised past below her.
The Four Kings Page 29
