Good Ogre

by Platte F. Clark

  “No!” the Jan Man cried.

  The others dispatched the last of the urinal men and rejoined Max. The Jan Man backed up a foot or two toward the large door behind him. “I’m not supposed to let anyone past,” he protested.

  “We’re going through,” Max said, trying to be sympathetic to Mr. Lizar’s plight.

  “The hard wway or the easy way,” Dirk chimed in. “That’s what you say at a time like this.”

  The Jan Man looked at the remains of his mop on the floor. “So my mop-dusa was just a mop?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Melvin answered. “And this building used to be our school.” The Jan Man tilted his head in thought.

  “Park—something or other,” he said.

  “Parkside,” Max answered.

  “Go, Eagles!” Sydney added, then suddenly looked embarrassed.

  “None of this is right, is it?” the former Mr. Lizar asked. He looked at Max. “You gonna put it right?”

  “Yes.”

  The Jan Man nodded and moved to the side, motioning toward the door. “Then you should go and do that. I suppose I’ll just wait here and see how it all turns out.”

  “Or . . . ,” Dirk said, getting an idea. “You could clean up this big mess.” The hallway was filled with bits and pieces of urinal cakes.

  “Bathroom could use some attention too,” Dwight added.

  The Jan Man scratched his chin as he thought it over. I could clean up this mess, or I could go find a quiet place and take a nap.” He turned to Max. “No offense here, but if you guys lose, better to look like I put up a fight.” And with that the Jan Man headed off.

  “Well, at least we didn’t have to hurt him,” Megan said after he left.

  Max sheathed his sword. “It’s not his fault—it’s mine.”

  “So now what?” Ricky asked.

  “Duh,” Dirk answered. “We go through the door.”

  On the other side of the door was the old gym where everything had started. There was no sign of the bleachers where Max had sat with Wayne, or the basketball hoops, the scoreboard, or the banner on the wall that had read PUMMEL THE PANTHERS! Instead, they found themselves at the highest point in the Malaspire. The room had started off more or less a square, but as it rose a good twenty feet or so, it twisted and bent, as if it couldn’t support its own weight. In the center a single rope fell from the ceiling to the floor, swaying slightly as the wind howled outside and the rain pounded the roof. But it wasn’t just any rope—it was the rope. Max’s nemesis—the ever-present reminder of his failures and the object of shame and humiliation that had embarrassed him in front of half the school. And above it, pulsing with reddish light, lay the opening through the Shadric Portal.

  “No way,” Dirk said, pointing to the rope. “You have to climb the rope to enter the portal? You only climbed like six inches last time.”

  Max’s heart sank. Dirk was right, of course. He had no chance whatsoever of doing it. Did he risk casting a Prime Spell again? He’d done it before, by accident, at the great hunting grounds when he’d lifted Sarah, Dirk, and himself to the top of a ziggurat pyramid. He’d been frustrated and emotional, but it had been the thought of Sarah that had given him the strength to summon the spell. He’d also set a frobbit adrift for several days, but he couldn’t really be blamed for that.

  “So where to next?” Ricky asked, looking more enthused about things than Max thought appropriate. “Up the rope, I guess?”

  Max commanded the armor to retract into the single wrist piece, and he slumped to the floor. Megan walked up and shared a concerned look with the others. “What’s wrong?”

  “Max can’t climb ropes,” Dirk answered.

  “Yeah, I saw his epic fail the other day,” Melvin added.

  Dwight looked up at the twenty-foot climb. “Just use some of your magic again. No problem.”

  “Maybe,” Max sighed. “But I’m running out of gas. Am I so pathetic I have to use magic to climb a stupid rope? I need the magic I have for the Maelshadow.”

  “Can’t Megan just heal you again?” Sydney asked.

  Puff shook his head. “Maybe, but there are limits. More than once can be dangerous.”

  “But I’ve healed him twice already,” Megan replied. “Remember?”

  “Three times in one day is too much,” Puff answered.

  “But we can’t just stop here,” Dirk protested. “We fought howlers, answered the door riddle, evaded Princess, defeated gracon statues, wailed on a giant were­bear and his scare bear pals, beat the spider, and then battled a whole bunch of urinal men—all to be stopped by a stupid rope?”

  “You forgot singing our way past the army of ­squirrels,” Sydney offered, trying to be helpful.

  “Look, we’re talking about the fate of the world here,” Dwight reminded them. “If another healing spell can work, we need to just try it, even if it’s risky.”

  Max looked up. “I’m willing to do it.”

  Puff shook his head. “You don’t understand—we’re talking life and death here. It could kill him.”

  Max shrugged. “I don’t have a choice.”

  “And if you’re dead, then what? Are we supposed to just pick up and go on without you?” Puff snapped angrily. “What’s going to happen to Sarah then? What’s going to happen to the entire Techrus? It’s not just about you.”

  “You know what your problem is?” Ricky said. “You’re so used to all this magic stuff that you think it’s the answer to everything.”

  “So what are you suggesting?” Dwight asked. “You think you’re strong enough to carry Max all the way to the top?”

  “No,” Ricky answered after a moment. “The only person who’s going to get Max up that rope is Max.”

  Melvin threw his hands in the air. “Then we’re back to where we started.”

  “I happen to know for a fact that Max can climb it,” Ricky said. “Without magic, without being carried—all on his own.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Dirk said. “We’re going to yell at him until he makes it, right? My dad was in the army and he said that’s how you motivate people.”

  Ricky approached the rope. “You know, for a bunch of brainiacs you guys still don’t get it. Yelling isn’t going to do any good either—I’m going to teach Max how to climb.”

  “What do you mean?” Max asked as he stared at the thick rope. “Don’t you just grab hold and pull?”

  “Maybe if you’re built like me,” Ricky said matter-of-factly. “But there’s a better way.” He turned to Megan and Sydney. “I can teach all of you how to do it.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” Melvin said. “Max . . . ?”

  “What have I got to lose?” Max replied. “But if it doesn’t work, then I’m using magic and Megan’s going to heal me—that’s the deal.”

  “It’s going to work—trust me,” Ricky said. But trusting Ricky “the Kraken” Reynolds wasn’t something that came easy. Max realized that despite the apology and battle in the hallway, he still was unsure about the one-time bully. If he was going to make this work, Max knew he’d have to let go of all that.

  “Okay, Ricky,” Max said as he climbed to his feet. “I’ll trust you.” And he realized that he really did.

  “Cool. So here’s what we’re going to do—it’s called the break-and-squat technique.”

  “Sounds like the time I ate a taco out of the garbage,” Dirk added. Ricky ignored him and kept going, grabbing the rope with two hands.

  “Rope climbing is all about what you do with your feet. Most people don’t know that because they see someone just pull themselves up with their arms. But if you get your feet right you don’t have to have a strong upper body. The trick is to just let the rope slide along your right hip as you grab hold, then use your feet to make a kind of rung, like on a ladder. Here, let me show you.”

  Ri
cky jumped and grabbed hold of the rope. Then he raised his right leg high enough that his left foot was able to get under it and lift it about a half foot so the rope looked like an S turned on its side. He dropped his other leg into the “rung” and as he lowered his weight, it drew taut. Ricky let go of the rope with one hand and sat there looking perfectly relaxed.

  “I’m not using my arms at all,” Ricky announced. “I can sit here and rest as long as I want, then just do the same thing over and over until I’m at the top.”

  Max had never seen anyone climb a rope like that before. He hadn’t known it was even possible to climb a rope like that. Ricky let go and dropped to the floor. “See?” he said. “No magic, just one person willing to teach another.”

  “You might want to teach the rope not to break, too,” Glenn piped in.

  Max slipped the Codex into the leather satchel and then handed Penumbra to Ricky. “Probably should still try and be as light as possible,” he said. Max jumped on the rope and began working his feet the way he’d seen Ricky do it. It wasn’t graceful at first, but with a little help Max got the hang of it. And amazingly, Ricky had been right. Max could stand on the rope and rest as long as it took to reach up and inch his way a little higher. By the time he reached the top, his arms were burning and he was out of breath. He didn’t rest as long as he should have as the thought of time running out pushed him forward. He neared the entrance to the Shadric Portal and saw a mass of swirling red smoke. The rope ran up and into it, and there was nothing to do but follow. He took a final breath and pushed himself higher—into the swirling mist of the umbraverse.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE UMBRAVERSE

  THE PLACE REMINDED MAX OF the tube he used to run through at the carnival fun house—a spinning tunnel that turned on its axis as giggling kids tried to keep from losing their balance, the barbershop pole–like stripes making it appear as if the walkway was spinning and not the tube. Max had that same disoriented feeling as he watched the spinning layer of clouds churn around him. A part of him knew that he’d climbed inside the tornado that fed the storm around the town. It was an unsettling thought.

  He made it through the spinning vortex and found himself in a strange place. A black castle rose in the distance, floating on a great island of ice. It glowed with strange blue and green lights that seemed to be reflected in the boiling clouds overhead. Max was good at sensing magic by now, and the waves of power that rolled from the castle made him feel sick.He had found the Maelshadow.

  One by one the others crawled through the portal and joined him. Moki rode on one of the wrestlers’ shoulders, while Ricky held Puff in his legs and pulled the pair of them up using only his arms. The others used the technique Ricky had shared and were able to climb to the top as well. Dwight struggled a bit in his armor, but he refused to take it off and eventually climbed through.

  “This place is crazy,” Dirk said, looking around. They were all gathered on one of the frozen islands. Around them, mounds of icicles rose like frozen jellyfish. And at the top, shafts of ice rose into the air like a wall of sharpened stakes. There were other ice islands adrift in the air, defying gravity as they floated within the eye of the storm. They made a path of sorts from the Shadric Portal to the castle, but it would take an Olympic-caliber jump to get from one to the next. Too far for Max and his friends to make it. Too far even for Ricky and his band of wrestlers.

  Suddenly a great horn blared, and two huge doors at the front of the ebony castle opened. Then came the sound of marching as a tremendous column of creatures funneled from the castle and made their way down a wide ice path.

  “That’s an invasion,” Melvin said solemnly.

  “The Maelshadow’s army,” Dwight added, watching as the column, some six men wide (if they could be called men), continue to advance. “This is the future if we fail.”

  Without thinking Max spun around and grabbed hold of the Shadric Portal. It had grown since he’d first opened it. He pushed with all he had, but it would not close. In fact, he felt it grow wider beneath his fingers.

  “Remember, only somebody who’s evil can close it,” Dirk said. “Because only someone good could open it.” Max let go of the portal with a groan.

  “I had to try something,” he said.

  “Our path to closing the portal leads through the Maelshadow,” Dwight answered, his voice heavy.

  “And now his army too,” Melvin added.

  Max turned to look at the black ribbon of soldiers moving away from the castle. Eventually they’d have to cross the gaps between the floating islands. But armies were good at that sort of thing—bridging rivers was a common enough problem.

  “I might be able to make the jump,” Ricky offered.

  “Maybe we should try and build a human chain or something,” one of the wrestlers suggested.

  Max considered it, but it felt too risky.

  “You could always toss the dwarf,” Glenn suggested.

  Everyone turned to Dwight, expecting an angry rebuttal. Instead Dwight shrugged. “Might work.”

  Dirk shook his head. “No, you’re supposed to say ‘nobody tosses a dwarf!’”

  Dwight lowered his axe. “Says who?”

  “Says everybody. It’s like against your code.”

  Dwight harrumphed. “My cousin Brohimir Stone­garden was tossed over the wall at the battle of Elyshiem. Did a full somersault in the air, just for dramatic effect, then broke past the elf lines and opened the gate.”

  Dirk frowned, not liking the idea of dwarfs being tossed around in strategic ways.

  “Any other ideas?” Max asked, getting back to the problem at hand.

  “We could build a snowman,” Moki suggested, eagerly.

  “Any good ideas?” Glenn asked.

  “I might have one,” Puff said stepping forward. He turned to Max. “Ever since you cast the Prime Spell on me, I haven’t felt right.”

  Megan stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

  “Not ‘wrong’ so much as . . .”

  Dwight approached the fluff dragon—they had become friends despite their rocky start in the Magrus (and a long-standing mistrust between dragons and dwarfs). “What do you mean by that?”

  “I think Max’s spell broke through my scales. I’ve been feeling things I’ve haven’t felt in years—magic, for instance.”

  “Wait, what are you saying?” Max asked.

  “Perhaps you should give me some room,” Puff said. Max and the others took several steps backward. “Farther,” Puff coaxed until they had moved a good distance away.

  “What exactly is going on here?” Melvin asked.

  “Hopefully it’s snowman related,” Moki offered.

  Puff took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Suddenly a blue light formed on his chest. Then it grew, tracing a line along the edge of the serpent’s escutcheon. The light hesitated for a moment, then split, racing around the fluff dragon and forming into the image of a great serpent. No, not a serpent, Max realized. A dragon.

  The blue light turned red as a thunderclap rang out overhead. The red light became so bright that Max and the others were forced to turn their heads. They heard what sounded like old leather unfolding, and then a wave of magic rushed over them, causing Max’s entire body to tingle. When they were able to look back, they saw a full-sized dragon stretching his wings and raising his head. The beast gave out a tremendous roar, full of raw and ancient power. Max recognized the dragon as the one in the dream world—the dragon that Puff truly was!

  “I am myself again!” Puff exclaimed, his voice deep and cavernous. He lowered his great head and regarded Max. “Do you recognize me?”

  The dragon looked nothing like a fluff dragon, but there was something in his eyes that reminded him of his friend. “I think I’ll always recognize you,” Max said.

  “That pleases me, but we have no time to ta
rry. Now, I can carry three of you on my back, so come and we will go and meet this army. I am eager to show you what a dragon can do.”

  Max activated his armor so that it flowed back around him. He took his sword from Ricky and addressed the others. “Dwight, I need you to stay here to organize a defensive line. Dirk and Melvin, you two come with me.” Puff lowered his wing and allowed the three adventurers—the wizard, the elf, and the bard—to climb on his back.

  “Go and save the world again, kid,” Dwight called out to Max.

  Max nodded as Puff leapt into the air, a powerful stroke of his wings propelling them skyward. The tendrils of black mist from Max’s armor spun in the swirling currents before dissipating across the ice.

  “I guess it’s up to them now,” Rick siad.

  They watched as the dragon flew toward the castle.

  “Yeah,” Dwight replied after a moment. It was all he could think of to say.

  Max decided that riding a dragon was pretty cool. They passed over several floating islands as they made their way toward the castle, and Max began to make out familiar forms within the ranks of the Maelshadow’s army.

  “Shadrus necromancers,” he announced to the others.

  They watched as the necromancers gathered at the edge of the ice to perform some kind of an incantation. As they wove their spell together, Max could feel the sickly sensation that accompanied Shadric magic. Suddenly new ice formed, muddy and grayish in color. It flowed outward until it spanned the gap to the next island, hardening into a bridge. The necromancers fell in line with the others as the army moved to march across it.

  “What are they?” Melvin asked, pointing his bow at the long ribbon of soldiers still marching from the great castle gate. “They don’t look human.”

  “The necromancers are their spell casters, but their soldiers are called Shadekin,” Puff answered. “Undead.”