Chapter 40: Fortress
for·tress noun: a large fortified place; a fort or group of forts, often including a town; any place of exceptional security; stronghold
The tips of his fingers and toes barely clung to the rocks, yet still Hunter climbed. Higher and higher, burning and bleeding, he clung tightly to both the razor sharp rocks of the volcano, and to hope. Methodically, he scanned the black lava mountain looming above them.
“Tell me again why we’re climbing up the side of an active volcano.” Ian struggled to keep up with his friend.
“Because my father’s inside.”
“Hey, where’d you learn to climb like that, anyway?”
“I already told you,” Hunter said, stopping to scan for his next move, “from the Indians.”
“Oh, yeah. Right. You just happened to run into a band of indigenous people who took you in, taught you how to hunt, fight, apparently climb, and then they sent you on your way. Does that about cover it?”
“Yup.” Hunter stretched and grabbed another thin ledge. Pulling himself up, he paused and smiled. Pleased with their progress, he scanned for his next move.
“Slow down, man,” Ian snapped. “I can’t do this.” A gust of wind burst around him. Ian clung to the thin rocks at his fingertips.
“You wouldn’t have to,” Aeryn fluttered behind him, “if you would just trust me.”
“Oh right! I forgot. You,” he tried to point at her and nearly lost his footing. Ian snapped back to the mountain and the tiny ledge. “You were with some paramilitary boot camp who taught you how to sprout wings and fly.”
She danced on the air, twirling, flapping her wings, and laughing at the two struggling boys in front of her. “I can help you, if you just let me.”
“Help us where?” Ian snapped. “Up to the top where the lava is boiling? No, thank you. I’ll take my chances behind the Lone Ranger up there.”
“What do you say, Hunter?” Aeryn asked her brother. “Let me help you?”
“I have to find the best way first. We need a good defensive fortress.”
“Why?”
“The best defense is against the rocks.”
“Why do we need a defense?” Again, Ian stopped. “I can’t go any more. I’m not strong enough.”
“I’m sorry?” Hunter turned back. “What did you just say? Where’s the Ian who used to get mad and bully his way through everything.”
“Choose your battles wisely,” Ian shot back. “Fight only those you can win.”
“So, tell us then,” Aeryn probed, “where were you for the last three days?” She floated down to the ground, settling at the base just a few feet below.
“With the pirates.”
“Pirates?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Hey, they saved my life.”
The siblings nodded, and turned back to the looming mountain in front of them. All three stared, motionless and speechless.
“Sure is big,” Aeryn whispered.
“Big, and impossible,” Ian said back.
“Not impossible,” Hunter said.
“Look,” Ian pointed up to the top, “we need a better plan. We can’t climb up to the top and slide down inside with the lava. It’s enormous.” He pointed up to the top. “Look how jagged it is. Our hands will be shredded by all these sharp rocks. It’s like a giant cheese grater. There are no landings to rest on. We’ll be here for days.”
“Well, right now there aren’t any better options. We have to get inside. Besides,” Hunter said, “there have to be some landings somewhere.” He tried to settle back, but couldn’t rest, hanging from the rocks. “You’re right,” he conceded, “we do need a better plan.” Hunter took a deep breath. “Aeryn, help me down.”
She flew up to her brother, hovering behind him. “Piggy-back,” she said. Hunter climbed on, wrapping his arms around her neck, legs around her waist. She fluttered a little, zig-zagging her way down. Hunter laughed. For the first time in three days, Hunter laughed. Aeryn landed at the base of the volcano. He released his grip and slid down to the ground.
“Hey, how ‘bout me?” Ian still clung tightly to the ledge.
“Jump,” Hunter laughed again. “You’re only three feet up.”
“Really?” Ian turned his head. Looking down, he laughed. “Sure seemed like a lot more.” He released the rock and jumped back.
“Definitely have to find another way inside,” Hunter whispered to Aeryn.
“So what now?” she asked.
“We check the volcano for alternate access.”
“And just what,” Ian asked, “does alternate access look like?”
“When I find it,” Hunter winked at him, “I’ll let you know.”
“Hey, look,” Aeryn blurted out. “That looks like a face up there.” She pointed halfway up at the rock formations in the side of the volcano. “See, there’s the nose, two eyes, and a mouth.” Her finger pointed nearly straight up.
“Yeah, it does.”
“Sure does,” Hunter mused. “The eyes look almost real from here.”
The eye closest to the trio glimmered, and winked at them.
“Whoa! Did you see that?” Ian jumped back and tripped over some rocks.
“Careful!” Hunter snapped. “You’ll fall back in the moat!”
“It winked. It winked. Did you see that?” Aeryn fluttered off the ground, voice giddy. “It winked at us. The volcano winked at us.”
“So, what does that mean?” Ian stood up and rejoined the group. “Does it like us?”
The lava mountain winked again.
“There! There! It did it again!” Aeryn could barely contain her excitement. “What now?”
“What are you askin’ me for?” Ian looked at his two companions. “I’ve never had a mountain wink at me before. I don’t know. Let’s wink back.”
“Maybe we should just talk to it.” Aeryn looked back up at the smiling face.
“Talk to a pile of rocks? Are you insane?”
“Yes, Ian. After three days down here and all of the stuff that we’ve been through, I would have to say I’m pretty close to insane right now.” She was losing her patience. “But we still have to get inside and get to my father.”
“Go ahead,” Hunter said. “Give it a try.”
Aeryn stuck her arms out. She shivered, fluffing her feathers, and floated a few feet off the ground. Looking up, she spoke loud and clear. “Please, can we get inside?”
The face nodded, dislodging some of the smaller rocks beneath it, the boys deftly dodging them as they tumbled down. When the head moved, Aeryn noticed a prickly circle around the forehead area, almost resembling a crown, but not really— more thorny. It circled the forehead, as far as she could see. She looked at the boys for help. Two shrugs answered her. She looked up again, and flew a bit higher. “How?”
The face smiled at her. She felt at ease for a moment, until the face wrinkled, gritted its teeth, squeezed its eyes shut, and shook. Rocks loosened and raced down the slope, forcing Hunter and Ian to again dive for cover. Tons of black, hardened lava bounced from one mountain ledge to the other, finally crashing at the base, throwing dirt and mud up into the air.
Aeryn raced down like the wind. “Hunter! Ian!”
“We’re okay.” Ian was the first to emerge from their hiding place behind some boulders. “That wasn’t exactly what I’d call a success.”
“Maybe you’d like to try, smart-aleck.”
“Maybe I should.” Ian stood tall. “At least I could manage not to get us buried by an avalanche of rock.”
“Hey, what’s that?” Hunter pointed toward the rocks at the volcano base. As the dust cleared a door emerged. The three stared at it. In unison looked back up at the face. It winked.
“A door? No way.” Hunter shook his head. “It can’t be that simple.” The other two stared, dumbfounded.
“Knock,” Ian said. Hunter shot him a nasty glare, but didn’t move. “No, really. Trust me now. Just knock.”
Hu
nter stepped up to the door, reached out, tentatively trying the handle. Locked. Gathering his resolve, he tapped lightly on the massive wooden door.
The lock clicked. The handle turned. The door opened.
Chapter 41: Game
game [geym] noun; a competitive activity involving skill, chance, or endurance of two or more persons who play according to a set of rules.
The three crept through the open door. It slammed shut behind them. Aeryn, Hunter, and Ian all stood huddled close to one another. The blackness spoke.
“Do you want to see some magic?”
SCREEEEECHHHHHHH.
A high-pitched squeal like nails scraping down a chalkboard pierced the darkness. A quick whiff of sulfur wafted by, and the darkness sprang to life. At the end of a long stone hallway dangled a puppet holding a long matchstick.
“Let there be light,” it laughed, in a mocking tone. It extended a jointed wooden arm toward the three still huddled by the door, the match head pointed directly at them like a microphone. “Come in,” the puppet beckoned. “Welcome to your new home.” His arm swirled above his head like a flaming halo, flinging sparks as it swirled. Those sparks each splattered against the dark walls, bringing to light even more puppets holding matchsticks. There were dozens of them.
Aeryn recoiled against the two boys. Round wooden heads, brightly painted with glowering eyes and wicked smiles, stared down at them from every angle of the cave. Each one held out a long wooden blazing match head from a jointed wooden arm, legs dangling beneath them, a plethora of knotted strings holding each one in its unnatural hanging pose.
“Come in,” the main puppet urged again. “I am so pleased you have finally made it. We have been waiting for you.”
“Waiting for us?” Hunter asked.
“Why, yes, of course.”
“Who are you?”
“Where are my manners? I do apologize. I am the proprietor of this establishment. These are my ‘friends’,” he said, pointing at the other puppets adorning the walls.
“What’s your name?” Hunter ventured again.
“Umm. Well, that’s a bit complicated,” the puppet replied. “I have many names. You can just call me, ‘Sir’.”
“Sir,” Hunter took a slight step forward, “we saw some others being brought in here earlier, and I was wondering—“
“Oh yes, yes! Yes!” The gangly creature leapt from the wall, leaving behind its strings. It moved under its own power now, toward the trio at the door. The shrill laughter had a sharp giddy edge to it, and the painted face illuminated its sheer delight through the dancing flames. “They, too, are my guests, although they didn’t wander in so easily. We helped them along, so to speak.”
“Please,” Aeryn spoke up. “One of them is our father. We need to see him.”
“And so you shall, little Princess. And so you shall. There are just a few housekeeping items we need to attend to first.”
“Housekeeping?” Ian asked.
“You could say so.” The puppet danced with excitement, inching closer to the three. “It’s just a formality, really. Nothing to worry about.”
“What kind of formality?” Hunter’s tone grew sharp. His keen senses began to sniff danger. The little hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and his nerves turned sharp.
“Let’s call it, sort of registration. Like when you begin a new school year— except there is no more school in here. From now on, life will be nothing but fun and games.”
“Fun and games?” Hunter’s arm instinctively pushed his sister behind him.
A bright, white, wooden, toothy smile glittered at them. “Uh, huh. Forever and ever. I promise.”
Ian stepped up, shoulder-to-shoulder with Hunter, shielding Aeryn behind them with their bodies. “What’s the catch?”
“Catch?” The puppet feigned a hurtful expression, but quickly replaced it with the toothy smile. “More like some fine print, for sure, but let’s not dawdle. We have lots to do. Come,” he turned and walked down the long hallway and around the corner. “Come, come now. Lots of business to take care of before all of the festivities later tonight.”
“Festivities?” Aeryn whispered.
The toothy smile shot back around the corner. “Yes, yes. Tonight we’re having an— ummm— well, initiation, I guess. Yes, that’s it. An initiation into our very own private club. Very exclusive. Coveted, in fact. If we hurry, you can all join with Morgan, too. Kind of a family affair. Yes, yes. Come. NOW!”
The puppet disappeared again, leaving the three to follow.
“Come. Come, children. We don’t have a lifetime— or do we? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…”
The puppets hanging against the walls clattered and shook. They looked as though they were trying to laugh, but no sound came out. Their stares, however, followed the three young friends into a great cavernous room. It, too, was lined with burning puppets on all sides. Their leader stood in the middle.
I’ve got them now. All three are mine, just like their useless father.
“Where are we?” Hunter’s eyes took in his surroundings. In the middle of the rock room was a well spring. Circular stones built up thick sides about three feet tall, keeping the bubbling warm water contained. Around the sides of the room were four doors, with a darkened hallway at the far end. Scattered around the room was everything from pebbles to boulders. Dense black onyx, silver ore, and glistening opaque quartz gems littered the floor. Hunter scanned the room from one side to the other. “Where do the doors lead?”
“Oh, come now,” the puppet laughed. “Surely you’ve played this game before. You choose the right answer and you get what you want. Choose wrong, and— well, let’s just say, I win.”
“What kind of game are you playing here?” Ian barked.
“Where’s my father?” Aeryn demanded.
The puppet master clacked around the rocks and stood in the center of the room. “I guess you could call this the game of ‘Life’,” he giggled through wooden teeth and cherry painted cheeks. “But one question at a time, young friends. This,” the puppet said, grinning and spreading his stick figure wide, “is Zin.”
“Zin?” Hunter asked. “What is a Zin?”
“Zin is not a thing, young Hunter. It is a place.”
“Looks like cave to me.”
“Ahhh, yes, Master Ian. To the untrained eye, that would be so. But you must look deeper to see what is here.”
“So, what kind of place is it?” Ian reached down to pick up a black rock, but it skittered across the cave floor away from him, untouched.
“It is a place of great fantasy and wonder, and a place of nothingness. It is neither here, nor there. It is something, yet it is nothing. A place of transition. Here is where you will decide your future.”
“Huh?” Ian scratched his head.
“Zin is whatever you want it to be. Think of it like a custom-made playground. You choose what you want, where you will go, and it will be given to you. And to question number two, Mistress Aeryn, your father is here. He has chosen to stay with us.” The puppet gritted its wooden teeth together. “Forever.”
“What?” It was nearly a shriek.
“Well, almost. His time to make his choice is close.” Seeing her distress, he smiled. “Fear not, young child. You can follow in his footsteps, as well. We can all be together forever, one big happy family. And now to the games—”
“What if I don’t want to play?” Ian glanced around the room for a reaction from the smaller puppets, but there was none.
“Then I win by default, young man. Because, you see, you have already entered my domain. The only way out is if I allow it. So right now, you all belong to me.”
Aeryn inched closer to the other two.
“Now I am a sporting man, of sorts. I will allow you an opportunity to see your father. You can even try to ‘rescue’ him, if you like. But first, a simple test.”
“What kind of test?” Hunter asked.
“To see if you are worthy to stay
in my little kingdom. It’s simple, really. Around you are four doors. Do not concern yourselves with the one directly behind you. It is merely a storage closet for supplies. It will be of no consequence to you. The other three are your test. Choose the right way out, and I will let you and your father go free. But choose wrong, and you will all be my prisoners, forever. You see, life is all about choices.”
Before the puppet master had finished the last words, chains began to rattle and bang against the cave’s walls. The three looked around. No longer were there puppets lighting the way. Now, the walls were lined with prisoners— people chained to the walls, hanging in misery, their weeping eyes a testament to the suffering that filled them on the inside. Aeryn gasped, clutching the first arm that was handy.
“Yes, it is a sad thing,” the puppet master said. “They did not choose well. Let this be a warning to you. You have but one chance, and one chance only. Use it well.” He laughed again, a high-pitched, shrill laugh that sent palpable shivers down their spines. Then he spun on his wooden heels and disappeared, dousing the room in a choking, thick blackness.
They’re mine!
Chapter 42: Deceive
de·ceive: [dih-seev] verb,
to mislead by a false appearance or statement; delude; to be unfaithful to another.
SCREEEEEECCCCCHHHHH
Sulfur wafted through the drafty air again, and the room erupted in a hazy glow. Above the first door, a lone hanging prisoner dangled, holding a long, burning, matchstick. The door beneath him creaked open. Aeryn gasped.
“Don’t move.” Hunter blocked the entrance. His keen senses on edge, nerves raw, they peered through the doorway and into a dense forest.
“Dad’s in there. I can feel it.” She was pleading.
“No. It’s a trick. Wait here.” Hunter turned and ran to the door behind them— the storeroom door. Flinging it open, he disappeared inside.
“What does he think he’s doing in there?” Ian shook his head and turned back to the open door at hand.
“Help!” The word flew at them from the thick wood. “Ian! Aeryn! Is that you?”
The PriZin of Zin Page 21
