The Unwilling Aviator (Book 4)

by Heidi Willard

  Pat opened the door and looked him over with a frown. "You appear to be neither, and the tournament starts in an hour," she told him.

  "Then we had better ready ourselves," Ned agreed. He stood, stuffed the blankets into his robe, and walked over to Fred. The old castor shook his apprentice, who peered over the blankets with hate-filled eyes. "Victory awaits you, my boy."

  "Can't it wait ten more minutes?" he groaned.

  "I'm afraid not."

  Fred grumbled, but sat up and turned to Pat. His eyes were bleary and his hair was pointed in all directions except the ones they were supposed to be. She snorted. "During the tournament you may want to let fall your disguise and scare your opponents," she quipped. Fred shot her an ugly look, but she was unfazed. Rather, a worried expression slipped onto her face. "Are you sure you're able to fly after last night?"

  Fred tested his limbs and winced. "A little sore, but I'm fine," he assured her.

  Pat sighed, but nodded her head. "All right. We'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes," she told them, and closed the door behind her.

  In ten minutes the castors, with Fred disguised as Crash, met Ruth and Pat downstairs. Hugh came from the back room and opened his arms wide. "Crash, you sly dog! Leaving without giving me a chance to wish you well?" he scolded.

  "Um, no?" Fred squeaked.

  Hugh frowned. "Is something wrong with your voice? You sound sick."

  "Mr. Enburn is in top condition," Ned spoke up. His eyes twinkled as he looked over Hugh. "I would wager to say he has a fighting chance to win the tournament."

  Hugh laughed and shook his head. "I like you, Crash, but I don't think you'll win."

  "Do you care to bet on that?" Ned challenged him.

  Hugh's eyebrows shot up and a grin slipped onto his lips. "What do you have in mind?"

  "I wager Crash's kite against our room and board," Ned replied.

  Pat frowned. "What are you doing?" she hissed. He held up his hand to silence her.

  Hugh stroked his chin and narrowed his eyes. "I can't see my way through that. I've seen his kite. It's a piece of junk," he argued.

  Ned pulled Fred against him. "And if we lose we will pay Crash's bills, should he have any, though if we win his debt will be paid off."

  Hugh's eyes widened. "Deal!" he shouted.

  "By the by, how much does his bills total?" Ned asked him.

  Hugh smirked. "Not less than one hundred gold pieces," he told them. Pat hung her head and groaned.

  Ned coughed, but kept his smile on his face. "Then we have our deal, and will expect prompt payment after the tournament."

  Hugh chuckled. "I'll expect the same," he countered.

  Ned led the four out into the square where Pat stepped in front of him. "Have you gone mad? We haven't that much money!"

  Ned smiled. "Faith, my dear Pat. I'm sure our friends will win the day," he insisted.

  Ruth patted Pat on the back and smiled at the angry young woman. "We will try our best," she promised.

  Pat sighed and nodded. "I'm sure you will," she agreed.

  The four of them traveled through the crowded, rowdy city with the waning sun in the west. The only evidence of the panic and castor battle from the night before was a noticeable increase in guards on the corners of every block and a few cracks in the walls of buildings from the earthquake. Twinners stood on the rooftops and watched the thick crowds belong them. Fred noticed the twinners were the only ones on the roofs.

  "Why isn't anyone watching from the roofs?" he asked his friends.

  "The roofs are the landing spots for the aviators unlucky enough to need to land," Ned told him. A half hour later they were at the center of the city and Ned guided the small group into a narrow alley. "Here we part. Pat and I to the west, and you fliers to the northeast," he told them.

  Pat looked to Fred and Ruth. "Please be careful, and don't do anything foolish," she ordered them.

  Fred grinned. "I'll try not to."

  "And I will try to keep him from doing anything foolish," Ruth agreed. Fred glared at her, and Ned chuckled.

  "Let us hope both our ventures are successful, and we see each other at the end of the tournament," he commented.

  "That means don't get yourselves killed," Pat translated.

  "I'll try not to plan it," Fred teased.

  "We must hurry or the tournament will start without us," Ruth reminded him. The pair turned to leave, but Pat stepped forward and grasped Fred's hand. He turned to find her eyes looking to him with a softness filled with worry.

  "Please be careful," she whispered.

  Fred blushed, but grinned and nodded. Ruth gently pulled him away, and his hand slipped out of Pat's. Soon the fliers disappeared into the crowds. Ned walked up to Pat and set his hand on her shoulder. "He will be fine. We may be the ones in the greater danger."

  Pat turned to him and frowned. "Why us?" she asked him.

  He gestured with his finger for her to follow, and led her westward toward the canyon walls. "The ancient castors trusted no soul in this area, so the treasure may not be easily retrieved," he told her.

  "You mean there may be traps?" she guessed.

  "Precisely."

  "How terrible can these traps be?"

  Ned stopped and glanced over his shoulder at her. "How terrible is the cunning of a castor?" he returned.

  Pat snorted. "Depends on the castor," she pointed out.

  Ned furrowed his brow and finally shrugged. "Point taken, but we should not underestimate the ingenuity of the ancient castors. They did create the Region Stones."

  "And the box Ruth's clan held that opened with a touch," she reminded him. "And created these ridiculous items that destroy their own work."

  Ned chuckled. "They had a sense of humor, I will accept that."

  The pair traipsed through the crowds and streets, and in a half hour were at the far side of the city. They reached the last house and a cry of excitement arose from the crowds behind them. Ned and Pat turned and looked up. The fifty competing aviators stood near the edge the cliffs each with an official behind them. One of the officials raised their hand and in a second dropped it.

  The aviators launched themselves over the cliff dragging their anchor lines after them. They caught the wind and sailed high into the sky. It was a colorful display of kites flying in the winds of Kite. That is, until one of the kites swooped down and dragged their line across another aviator's anchor rope. It cut the second rope and forced the second kite into a tailspin. The carnage had begun. Kites swooped down, in, and around in an attempt to cut their opponents from the sky.

  Pat whipped her head to and fro trying to find the only kite that mattered to her. Ned smiled and pointed his staff at a kite that dodged the others' attempts to cut its line, but didn't try to attack them. "Ruth is forcing the other aviators to expend energy while conserving her own. Wise girl," he complimented. He set his hand on her shoulder. "We needn't worry about them. Come, we have our own adventure awaiting us."

  Ned led her past the final building and to the cliff walls twenty yards away. The area was littered with rocks fallen from the cliffs above them. Pat glanced up and frowned. "Why do rocks fall here, but not on the eastern end?" she wondered.

  "I would guess because the castors wished to keep people from building over the entrance and enchanted the cliffs to be less stable," Ned surmised. He tapped the tip of his staff against the wall while Pat felt around. "It should be somewhere around here," he muttered.

  "Could the ancient castors had hidden the entrance with magic like the stones?" she wondered.

  "That is likely, but would be unfortunate for us without our magic detector, Fred," Ned replied.

  They knocked, tapped, rapped, and pressed against every crevice of the cliff wall. After thirty minutes Pat stepped back and growled at the myriad of rocks and boulders. "Can this not be simple?" she wondered.

  Ned joined her side and stroked his beard. "We must be ignorant to some trick that opens the way," he mused. Pat sc
owled at the cliffs and stomped up to the rock wall. She kicked one of the smaller outcroppings. Nothing happened, and Ned chuckled. "A simple kick won't find the door," he commented.

  She shrugged. "It was worth a chance," she argued.

  "True, but we must think as the ancient castors thought," he suggested.

  "We know very little about them other than they trusted no one in this area," she reminded him.

  Ned furrowed his brow and stroked his beard. "But perhaps they would trust their own," he mused. Ned rummaged through his cloak and pulled out a small knife. He opened his palm and winced when he ran the blade over his own hand.

  Pat's eyes widened. "What are you doing?" she gasped.

  "A most ancient magic. That of blood," he replied. He stepped up to the cliff and ran his hand over the rocks. His hand left a smear of blood on the dull red surface. The pair were startled when part of the cliff pulled aside to reveal a long passage into the cliffs. The hallway had smooth sides and an arched ceiling. The fading light from the setting sun over their heads only penetrated a dozen yards into its gaping mouth.

  Ned lit the tip of his staff and stepped toward the entrance. "Shall we?" he invited Pat.

  Ned led the way inside, and when they were both in the passage the stone door closed behind them. Pat jumped back and clutched at the entrance just as it slammed into place Her heart thumped and she tamped down the panic rising in her. "Will blood reopen this door?" she asked Ned.

  "Perhaps, but our journey takes us forward, and forward we must go," he replied.

  The pair traveled down the passage for fifty yards before they noticed a gentle decline that slowly increased in severity. Ned slowed his pace and tread carefully along the dry sand that made up the floor. The sand shifted beneath his feet and he grabbed at the wall. The rocks were smooth and he couldn't get a grip. Pat caught him before he fell.

  Ned chuckled as she helped him to his feet. "It seems I have the wrong footwear for this adventure."

  "Let me go first," she offered as she strode past him with one hand on the smooth wall.

  Ned reached out to stop her. "That wouldn't be-"

  Pat put her foot down on a particularly loose pile of sand and the ground shifted beneath her. The dirt slid down the step, declining passage and took her with it. She screamed as she slid down the slide of slipping sand. The shifting ground also swallowed Ned and he cried out when he fell onto his bottom and slid after Pat. The wide, straight passage turned into a narrow twisting and turning slide of sand, and try as they might they couldn't grasp the walls to stop themselves.

  Though Pat was unable to see anything she heard the sliding sand ahead of her rain down as though dropped from a height. The noise was only two dozen yards ahead of her and fast approaching. A dozen yards remaining. The darkness ahead opened into a yawning infinity of black. Pat stuck her arms and legs out, and pressed them against the walls. She slid along for another few yards and came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the nothingness.

  Pat's eyes widened when she heard Ned yell above her. "Watch out below!" he cried.

  "Your hands and feet!" she called back.

  "Splendid idea." Pat heard his hands and feet slide against the walls and he came to a stop hardly a foot from her back. His staff was clenched between his teeth and still lit, and it shone over the area in front of her. She cringed when she noticed a pit ten feet below her with strange, conical shapes at the bottom. Pat furrowed her brow and leaned over the edge.

  "What in the world?" she gasped.

  Ned lay his staff in his lap, and leaned to one side to look down. "Ah, the dreaded Pit of Pointy Hats," he told her. The pit was brimming full of tall, blue-colored pointed hats like the one Ned wore.

  Pat whipped her head up to him and her eye twitched. "Pit of Pointy Hats?" she repeated.

  He shrugged. "I know. Old-fashioned, but effective."

  "You jest."

  "On the contrary. I was being serious when I told Canto my hat was dangerous. Here, let me show you." Ned dropped one of his hands from the wall and plucked a hair from her head.

  "Ouch. I am not your apprentice," she growled as she rubbed her head.

  "But you still have a lesson to learn," he countered.

  Ned held the hair in his open palm and blew it into the air. The hair floated past Pat's face and glided into the pit. It reached the hats and touched the point on one of the head wear. The hat cracked itself like a whip and sliced the hair in two. The other hats around it also came alive, and they sliced and diced the hair until there was nothing left.

  Ned chuckled when he saw Pat's mouth was open. "Very effective," he commented.

  Pat shook herself and looked over the pit. There was a small ledge opposite them to which she nodded. "Do you believe we can escape through there?" she asked him.

  "Undoubtedly. The ancient castors needed a door through which to feed the hats," Ned told her.

  "Feed the hats? What could they eat?" she wondered.

  "Linen, mostly, but they do occasionally like the soles of shoes," he replied. While Pat soaked in that logic Ned grasped his staff and flung the head ahead of them. He created a barrier that stretched like a bridge from the end of their fun-slide to the ledge. "I would offer to go first, but I see there's a problem with that," he teased.

  Pat rolled her eyes and slid down onto the barrier. She stood and gingerly walked across the bridge. The hats beneath her sensed her presence, and snapped and cracked themselves in anger at being robbed of their fun. She reached the ledge and Ned was close behind. The ledge held an arched doorway that led into another dark passage. Ned slipped past her and down the hall.

  CHAPTER 24

  They walked along the wide passage for fifty yards before they came to a small chamber. A stairway carved from the stone led upwards, and a passage beside it led deeper into the caves.

  Pat glanced at the stairs. "Do you think the stairs lead out of here?" she asked Ned.

  Ned chuckled. "Undoubtedly. It seems we're being given one final chance to change our minds and leave," he mused.

  "Then we're assured success if we go down this passage?" Pat surmised.

  "We shall see," Ned replied. Ned led the way down the passage. This one seemed to have no end. After several minutes of walking Pat paused and glanced behind herself. Ned noticed her stop and turned to her. "What is it?" he asked her.

  She furrowed her brow, but shook her head. "Nothing," she replied.

  "In ancient caves such as this it is never nothing," he countered.

  Pat squinted into the darkness. "I feel as though something is there, but I cannot see anything," she told him.

  Ned frowned and swung his staff behind them. Pat's eyes widened when his light cast long, tall shadows on the walls. Those shadows were of thin monsters with long arms at their sides that ended in sharp claws. Their heads were oval and their bodies swayed to and fro as though trapped in an eternal wind. There were six of them, and they slowly stepped toward the pair. Pat stumbled back beside Ned.

  "By Phaeton, what are those?" she whispered.

  "Guardians hidden by ancient magic," he told her.

  "How do we defeat them if we cannot see them?" she asked him.

  "By a time-honored trick."

  "And that is?"

  "Run!" Ned turned and dashed down the hall.

  Pat turned to watch him retreat down the passage, but looked back when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Without Ned's light the hall was wrapped again in shadows, but she could feel the creatures move toward her. Pat raced after Ned, but the shadows followed her. She caught up to him down the passage. "Is there. . .no other. . .way. . .to defeat. . .these creatures?" she gasped.

  "That is. . .knowledge I. . .do not have," he wheezed.

  Pat glanced over her shoulder and by the light of Ned's staff glimpsed the creatures in close pursuit. The companions raced down the passage which turned a sharp corner. Pat opened her eyes when the way opened to the small chamber with the staircase. Th
ey'd entered it through the passage that led to the pit, but that hadn't any side passages. The pair swept past the stairs and back into the long passage.

  "How?" she gasped.

  "Star magic," Ned replied. His breathing came out in sharp rasps. "The passage. . .is an. . .infinite loop."

  "So we can. . .never get. . .to the treasure?" she asked him.

  "Perhaps. . .if we defeat. . .the guardians," he suggested.

  Pat glanced over her shoulder at the creatures that raced along the walls. The creatures stretched out their long, slender arms and the claws nearly touched Pat and Ned's shadows. She didn't watch where she was going and her foot tripped on a protruding rock. Pat tumbled to the ground and Ned stopped a few yards ahead of her and turned back. The shadows swooped down, but Pat scrambled back and she felt a gust of wind touch the tip of her foot.

  Ned grabbed her and pulled her to her feet, but she brushed off his hands as he pulled her forward. "No. No more. . .running," she refused. She pulled out her ancient sword and hardened her eyes. "Do you hear me? I won't run anymore," she called to the creatures.

  Ned smiled and stood tall with his staff at his side. "I, too, would rather die fighting than of a heart attack," he agreed.

  The shadows twitched and swayed in front of them. Then they dove as one at the pair. Pat sliced the air while Ned raised a barrier in front of them. The shadows passed through sword and magic, and even through the humans. Pat and Ned swirled around and watched the creatures disappear into the depths of the passage behind them. With them went the feeling of being watched.

  Ned leaned on his staff and chuckled. "It seems bravery was the trick to overcoming the guardians," he commented.

  Pat sheathed her sword and sighed. "Will these tricks never end?" she wondered.

  Ned peered down the passage and smiled. "You may receive your wish. Come along."

  They strode down the passage and Pat noticed what Ned had seen; a small light at the end of the tunnel. The hall opened into a large, domed chamber with faint bits of glowing rocks in the walls. A walkway led up to a low platform across from the entrance. Atop the platform stood a simple rock-hewn pedestal, and on that pedestal was a stone box. Above the platform, half-buried in the rock, hung a large boulder. They walked up to the box and Ned tapped his staff on the lid. It sprang open and revealed an interior of yellow velvet. Atop the velvet was a tuning fork made of steel.