Beyond the Knock Knock Door

by Scott Monk

  ‘So tell me again, how’d you figure out the Knock-Knock Door’s up here?’ Luke asked Samantha.

  ‘Knock-Knock Doors need a lot of water, right?’

  ‘Probably as a coolant,’ Michael said.

  ‘Thank you, Doctor Brain. Anyway, remember our Knock-Knock Door on Earth – it was close to a stormwater drain, correct? On the Broken Isles, it was under a waterfall. Here, it’s this volcanic lake. We’ve been looking at it all this time.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘What?’ Luke asked.

  ‘That sugar merchant! He told me the lake had gone salty. That meant water was being drawn up from the sea into the crater.’

  She whirled on him. ‘You mean, you’ve known about this since we got here, and you’re only figuring it out now?’

  ‘Sam, I –’

  ‘You mean, I’ve spent the last few weeks being chased by stinky fish, hunting a monster that doesn’t exist and fighting circus freaks because you forgot?’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry, okay. It –’

  ‘You mean, I’ve been scratching this beard – this ugly, prickly, sweaty man’s beard – FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER?’

  Luke laughed as he watched his brother sprint up the path, Samantha screaming after him. With a tap of his wristpad, he recalled his satellite into his jetpack and grinned. ‘Guess that makes me the favourite brother from now on.’

  An hour later, he found them collapsed against a hidden entrance halfway up the volcano. Water defied gravity and streamed into its jamb, just like the sewers back home. Other rivulets continued upwards to fill the crater.

  ‘What are you two arguing about now?’ he asked, watching Michael rub his shoulder. Not even all that armour could protect him from one of Samantha’s pummellings.

  ‘Oriana,’ she said. ‘How could she watch the tricentennial celebrations, but at the same time perform in front of all those people as the white harlequin?’

  ‘Even I know that one. It was just another actor taking her place,’ Luke said.

  Michael shook his head. ‘She didn’t want anyone to be suspicious about her double life.’

  ‘But why would she want to be a harlequin?’ she asked. ‘Oriana’s a queen – or was a queen. She had all the power in the world.’

  ‘I don’t think it was about power. That day of the ferry ride to the Island of Roses, she was mobbed by thousands of people. All her life, she’s been the public face of the city. She’s never been able to step outside without being recognised. Afterwards, she told me she felt like a prisoner in her own kingdom. As a harlequin, she could be faceless and free of rules. And for evil people, that normally means making others suffer.’

  They pushed open the hidden entrance then took a last look at Pacifico: the royal palace, mansions, docks, markets, plazas, theatres, conservatorium and stables. Despite its sinister queen, for three weeks it had been their home. They’d made friends there – one of whom was dead and the rest missing. Their only disappointment was failing to free them from the slavers. They hoped the new government would rectify that. But that was someone else’s story.

  ‘We did pretty good, didn’t we?’ Luke asked.

  She nodded. ‘You did pretty good. Both of you. Not bad for a couple of boys.’

  The brothers smiled, thinking back to how much they’d each grown since falling from the sky into a waterfall – Michael and Samantha quite a lot, but Luke? Well, he wanted to stay a kid forever.

  The triplets had seen enough. They entered a cavern and discovered their last surprise. Before them, large and bold, was another Knock-Knock Door. But this one was made from red obsidian – not unusual considering they were inside an extinct volcano. It was fastened shut by a giant round lock in the shape of two fish, and another pair of carp held the knockers in their mouths. The floor was made out of pretty celestite chrysanthemum – or black ‘flower stone’.

  After rapping the knockers, the streams of water flowed quicker; the lights glowed brighter; and the familiar gold-painted ironwork of bells and cogs started to tick-tick-tick and ding-ding-ding.

  Samantha did the honours. She’d waited for this moment too long.

  Knock. Knock.

  Who’s there? a cuckoo bird asked on a piece of tickertape.

  ‘Carmen,’ she answered.

  Carmen who?

  ‘Carmen see for yourself!’

  Luke laughed as cogs rolled and stuttered, whistles blew and the giant double fish lock, twisted and separated. An enormous rush thundered above them as the lake emptied itself behind the Knock-Knock Door. ‘Good one, Sis.’

  Do you like riddles?

  ‘Yes,’ Michael answered. ‘We like riddles.’

  Unlock the answer and I’ll open for you.

  More cogs tick-tick-ticked and bells ding-ding-dinged until a second cuckoo bird scissored forward and asked its riddle: If there are two of you but one of me, what am I?

  ‘A mirror,’ they all answered.

  As before, the triplets stepped in an enormous star chamber with the whole universe charted out before them. They could explore any planet in all creation, but they were united in their decision.

  ‘Take us home,’ Michael said.

  The chamber blinked from black to white then black again, before the triplets farewelled Pacifico and vanished.

  32

  Back on Earth and three weeks previously, a trio of forgotten monsters crept along the subterranean tunnels below the old pumphouse. They homed in on a bright cavern with chequerboard tiles and an enormous red double door, but slowed when they heard children’s voices. Surprise, surprise, the lead girl smiled. The Bowman losers.

  ‘Don’t make a sound,’ April hissed, holding a stolen sledgehammer.

  The Thornleigh sisters kept well hidden at the top of the steps behind the plaster cavity and spied on the geeks. That giant door they’d discovered was out-of-this-world – and that meant one thing: money.

  The middle sister, May, pestered April to charge down there and grab them, but she had other plans. She wanted to learn what they knew. Besides, these losers were trapped, and she owned the only lighter. They’d have to turn back – and not before a good pounding.

  Again, June caused a problem. She slumped against the wall in boredom, unaware she’d caught her red cloak on a chunk of plaster. In a flash, April caught it before it bounced down the steps. ‘I warned you upstairs about making a noise!’

  The mistake was quickly forgotten when the weedy Michael Bowman yelled, ‘Door, it’s the letter “o”!’ The strange red exit answered by chiming and opening to let the triplets inside.

  After a metal cuckoo bird whizzed past them, the Thornleighs snuck down to the same door, only to have it suddenly swing shut. There was a great whooshing, like a crashing wave, then nothing but dripping.

  ‘What do you think’s behind it?’ May Thornleigh asked, shaking the golden ironworks.

  ‘I don’t know,’ April said, running her hand across the double door. ‘But I reckon it’s gotta be big.’

  An hour later, when they still hadn’t opened it, April reached into her costume pocket and pulled out a small silver bell. It was tied to a business card, which read on one side: In case of emergency, and on the other: Mr Deed’s Curious Curios.

  She rang it.

  Soon, the cavern echoed with tick-tick-ticks and ding-ding-dings, and the gateway rumbled apart.

  And so, one by one, Little Red Riding Hood, a cyborg and a particularly nasty spideress walked through the Knock-Knock Door.

  Scott Monk is a monster hunter. Beyond the Knock-Knock Door is his first contemporary fantasy novel for children. Respected for his ability to get even the most reluctant readers to pick up a book, Scott has written four novels for teenagers, including Boyz ‘R’ Us, Raw, The Crush and The Never Boys. When he isn’t busy travelling the universe looking for stories, he works for a newspaper in Sydney, goes to the football or eats chocolate. Lots of chocolate.

  ott Monk, Beyond the Knock Knock Door