Search for the Shadow Key

by Wayne Thomas Batson

  “What did you do?” Archer demanded, spitting the words. “What did you do, Rigby?”

  “Put . . . me . . . down, Keaton,” Rigby hissed. “Don’t make me humiliate you in front of your peers.”

  Shocked by his own strength, Archer pressed in on Rigby. “I know you did it,” he said. “It had to be you.”

  “I . . . ow! Archer, I’m warning you,” Rigby said, lifting a fist full of threat.

  “You want to sit with the trophies?” Archer warned. “All I want is my father back. What’d you do with him, huh? What’d you do?”

  “Keaton, have you lost your mind?” Rigby bellowed. He twisted free of Archer’s grasp and shoved him back. “Never touch me again.”

  “What did you do with my father?”

  “Look, Keaton,” Rigby said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  A chant of “Fight, fight, fight!” rose up in the hallway. A deep voice somewhere nearby shouted, “Break it up!”

  “You’re not fooling me, Rigby, not this time,” Archer said. “My father went missing last night, and I know you have something to do with it.”

  “Terribly sorry to hear of your dad,” Rigby said. “But get some rest, Keaton. You look ill. I ’ad nothing to do with it.”

  “I said break it up!”

  A chill like icy rain spilled down Archer’s back. Archer grabbed Rigby by his jacket lapels and slammed him into the trophy case again. He had to stand on his toes, but he put his face right in Rigby’s face and said, “It was you. You took the Shadow Key. You let the Scath out. You reckless—”

  A strong hand took Archer’s shoulder and pulled him away from Rigby. “Break it up, break it up!” Mr. Bohrs commanded. The assistant principal stood between Archer and Rigby, holding his hands out like a traffic cop. “Back off, Keaton.”

  “Mr. Bohrs,” Rigby said, “I wasn’t doing anything, and Keaton here comes pushing me around. Is this how things go here?”

  “Save it, Thames,” Mr. Bohrs growled. “Seems to me you’ve been suspended for fighting once before too.”

  “He’s telling the truth, Mr. Bohrs,” Kara said, appearing by the assistant principal’s shoulder. “Archer just shoved in here and attacked Rigby.”

  Archer shot a red-eyed glare at her. “No one asked you, Kara!” he growled.

  “Enough of that, Keaton,” Mr. Bohrs said. “C’mon. We have a little trip to take.”

  He led Archer to the main office. Archer waited in the administrative conference room for close to an hour. Mrs. Mears, the principal, entered the room, closed the door, and sat down across the table from Archer.

  “I’ve been in touch with the Washington County Police Department,” she said. “They told me . . . well, they told me about your father. I’m sorry, Archer. This has to be very tough on you. I want you to know that we—the school—won’t hold this altercation with Mr. Thames against you. You’re under a lot of strain here. But maybe you need to take some time off. Maybe talk to someone.” She nodded to the conference window, and Mrs. Anders, the school counselor, came in.

  “Hello, Archer,” she said, and she handed him a business card. “This is the contact info for a very highly recommended teen therapist. She’s especially good with . . . well, with helping us with difficult times . . . or loss.”

  “We’ve also been in touch with Mrs. Pitsitakas,” the principal said. “She’s on her way here to pick you up.”

  Through it all, Archer said nothing.

  “It’s been a long day,” Mrs. Pitsitakas said. “Buster’s already asleep. You should sleep too.”

  Archer stretched and yawned. “I’m worn-out,” he said. “C’mon, Kaylie, we need to hit the hay.”

  “Kaylie, you can stay in my room tonight,” Amy said.

  “I can?” Kaylie asked, blinking.

  “Sure, I’ll show you.”

  The three headed up the long staircase. “Amy, your house is huge,” Archer said, gazing at the vast room below and the long hall full of doorways above. There was a grand piano in one corner of the living room; long couches divided the space into a kind of L-shape. Glass tables bordered with gold inlay rested in front of and between the couches, and a dazzling chandelier hung down from the ceiling. “Just huge.”

  “Cut the small talk,” Amy said. “C’mere.” Once they were all up the stairs and around the corner, she said, “I know what you’re up to. You’re gonna do that Dreamtreading thing, yep.”

  “Shhh!” Archer warned.

  Kaylie looked thunderstruck. “She knows?”

  “I might know,” Amy said coyly. She winked at Archer.

  “She knows a little,” he whispered. “But don’t worry. Amy’s cool.” “I know she’s cool,” Kaylie said. “But I didn’t know she knew.”

  “So, I’m right, then?” Amy said. “You’re going Dreamtreading tonight?”

  “Yes,” Archer said. “But first we need to talk to our superior, Master Gabriel.”

  “Ooh, he sounds cool,” Amy said. “Like a Jedi or a ninja or something. Can I meet him?”

  “Uhm, I don’t think so,” Archer said. “Not tonight anyway. He doesn’t like surprises. But listen, Amy. I’m worried.”

  “Of course you’re worried. Your father—”

  “It’s more than that,” he said. “First, it was Mr. Gamber, then my dad. You told me you thought you saw shadow people in your room.”

  “Freaked me out,” Amy said. “I screamed for my mom, but they were gone. I’m not even sure I really saw them.”

  “I think you did, Amy,” he said. “I think something really bad is happening. Rigby Thames did something, and things from the Dream are intruding in our world. I want you to be careful, Amy. Sleep with a light on.”

  “Will light protect me from the shadow people?” Amy asked.

  “Honestly,” Archer said, “I don’t know. All I know is that light drives out darkness. But be careful.”

  “I will, Archer,” she said. “I will turn my bedroom into the Kingdom of Bright Light.”

  DREAMTREADER’S CREED, CONCEPTUS 8

  Meddle not with the Masters, Dreamtreader, for they have many errands. Each to their own territory, their own tasks. They will assist you in your business, but the Masters are not themselves the shepherds of that realm. You, Dreamtreader, must manage your own duties. You must abide by the Creeds. You must vanquish the evil that dwells in nightmares.

  But . . .

  Should the Nightmare Lord’s master ever make himself known to you, do not dare to fight alone. Not even if all three Dreamtreaders join forces, do you attempt this task. He is a greater foe than your modest abilities will abide. It is then that a Master should be called. It is his task to face the dark one.

  SEVENTEEN

  FIRST PRIORITY

  “WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” MASTER GABRIEL ASKED. “AND why have you summoned me here?”

  “This is Amy Pitsitakas’ home,” Archer said. “We’re . . . staying with her family for a while.”

  Immediately, Kaylie broke into tears, dashed forward, and hugged the master Dreamtreader.

  “Uh, hmph, hmm,” Master Gabriel said, clearing his throat. “Kaylie, what’s gotten into you?”

  She didn’t answer but sobbed all the more.

  “Archer?” Master Gabriel said, his armor flaring white. “What’s wrong?”

  “My father,” he said. “Someone took my father away.”

  Master Gabriel sighed as if weary, but his eyes still kindled a defiant flame. “Storm and madness!” he grumbled. “This is Scath doing.”

  “And I think I know who has the Shadow Key,” Archer said. “I think I know who let them out.”

  “Your Lucid Walker friend?”

  “Rigby Thames,” Archer said. “But he’s no friend. I confronted him about the breaches that his Lucid Walker business was causing. I warned him to shut it all down. I think he let the Scath out to spite me, to target me and hurt me.”

  “That may well be true, Archer,” Master G
abriel said, “but if you’ll accept my counsel, I would advise you to see a bigger picture.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Master Gabriel knelt and drew Kaylie away. “Do not fear, child,” he said. “Fear is an invitation to darkness.”

  “But my daddy,” she said, her voice a bare whimper.

  “Listen to me, Kaylie,” Gabriel said. “I will do everything in my power to bring your father back to safety. Do you understand?”

  “Uh . . . uh-huh,” she whispered, nodding.

  “What did you mean by ‘bigger picture’?” Archer asked once more.

  Master Gabriel patted Kaylie lightly on the head, rose to his full height, and said, “Rigby may indeed bear you a great deal of ill will, enough to attack people you love, but for someone to risk letting the Scath out for good? That speaks to a larger plan. A fouler plan. I believe this Rigby fellow desires to become ruler of the Dream.”

  “Like the Nightmare Lord?” Archer asked.

  “Yes, but worse. At least the old Nightmare Lord knew better than to release the Scath. They are unpredictable and treacherous. No, Rigby is power hungry and power mad. He wants to rule the Dream, even if it means destroying the Waking World in the process.”

  “So we stop him,” Archer said.

  “We must,” Master Gabriel replied. “If you’re right, and Rigby has the Shadow Key, you must get it back and lock up the vaults of the Inner Sanctum.”

  “Where do we begin?” Archer asked. Kaylie tugged on his shirt.

  “I suggest you divide and conquer,” Master Gabriel said. “There are three of you now.”

  Again, Kaylie tugged on Archer’s shirt. “Wait,” he whispered. “Where should we look?”

  “Shadowkeep, for one,” Master Gabriel said. “Bezeal, of course. And maybe seek out Lady Kasia as well. If there’s a rumor about, she’ll know it. If time permits, you might try to intercept Rigby at the Libraries of Garnet.”

  “Okay, I understand,” Archer said. “We’ll go tonight. But you’ll have to get Nick on board.”

  “I will see to it,” Master Gabriel replied. “The three of you will meet at the Cold Plateau, in the center of your territories. Make your plans, seal off the new breaches, and find that key.”

  Archer said, “Got it.”

  “Archer!” Kaylie cried out. “What do you mean? We can’t go looking for some stupid key. We have to find Daddy.”

  “The Shadow Key might be the reason Dad was taken, Kaylie,” Archer said, keeping his tone gentle. “We get it back, we might get him back too.”

  She scrunched her nose. “But we don’t know that,” she said. “All we know is that Daddy’s gone and the creepy things took him. We gotta go into the Dream and find him.”

  “I understand how you feel, Kaylie,” Master Gabriel said. “But you must understand you are a Dreamtreader now. Your duty is to preserve and protect the Dream and the Waking World. You must be strong and carry out your duty.”

  “But Daddy might need us, Archer,” she said plaintively.

  “I know, Kaylie, I know. But getting the Shadow Key back is the way to help him now.”

  The moment he was certain Kaylie was safely tucked in with Amy, Archer locked the guest room door and tossed the white Summoning Feather into the air once more.

  In a furious sparkle, Master Gabriel appeared. “Honestly, Archer, what is it now? I have other errands, you know.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I’m worried.”

  “I know, Archer. Your father—”

  “I’m worried about Kaylie.”

  “Explain.”

  “Are you sure she’s ready for this?” Archer asked. “I mean, I know you trained her a few times. But I had months before I went active duty.”

  “We do not have the luxury of time,” Master Gabriel said. “She is already better at Dreamweaving breaches than you are.”

  “I’m not worried about breaches,” he said. “But Rigby, the Lurker, the Scath . . . and any other beastie the Dream has to offer. I mean, I was thinking of having Kaylie watch over the Libraries in Garnet, but suppose Rigby does show up? What if he tries to hurt her or take her captive?”

  “In that case, I pity Rigby,” Master Gabriel said without a hint of a smile. “Do you have any idea the kind of mental power Kaylie wields? If Rigby does challenge her, I just hope she doesn’t kill him.”

  Rigby picked at the vast tray in the studio’s green room, glanced at the television, and went to switch it off.

  “Wait,” Kara said. “I want to see that.” She rushed to the TV and turned up the volume.

  The handsome gray-haired anchor was saying, “The second abduction in recent weeks, sparking a statewide manhunt. If you have seen or have any information about Phillip Gamber or Brian Keaton, both of Gatlinburg, please call . . .”

  “First, Mr. Gamber from Gatlinburg Elementary,” Kara said. “And now, Archer’s father. I can’t believe it.”

  “Why?” Rigby said. “It’s a rough world. Bad things happen.”

  Kara eyed him coolly. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

  “Oh, please, Kara,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re buying into anything Keaton said today. He’s delusional.”

  “You forget, I’ve known Archer a long time. I’ve never seen him that angry. It’s not like him at all to barge in and throw you up against a trophy case. He was furious with you.”

  “He didn’t throw me up against the trophy case.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Rigby,” she said, her voice dropping an octave. “Did you have anything to do with Archer’s father?”

  Rigby shrugged. “It’s all about leverage.”

  “I didn’t sign up for kidnapping, Rigby.”

  “You signed up to rule the Dream,” he warned. “This is what it costs.”

  “They’re ready for you, Mr. Thames, Ms. Windchil.”

  Rigby switched off the television. “Come, partner,” he said. “We have a world to win.”

  “What took you so long, Archer?” Kaylie asked.

  “Yeah, mate,” Nick said. “It’s freezing here!”

  “Well, it is called the Cold Plateau,” Archer said. He turned a brief circle with his arms outstretched. They stood upon a relatively flat, snow-covered elevation high above the Forms District. “You could have just willed a big bonfire.”

  “Oh,” Nick said. “Color me gobsmacked. I keep forgetting.”

  “We went to bed at the same time, Archer,” Kaylie said, peeking out from the hooded parka she wore. “You usually fall asleep pretty quick.”

  “I was planning,” he said.

  “Right then,” Nick said. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “We all anchor here,” Archer said. “We head out, shut all the breaches in our own districts as fast as we can. Then Nick, you go to Bavanda. Talk to their leader, Lady Kasia. See if she knows anything about the Shadow Key, but be wary. She’s a little touchy.”

  “What does that mean?” Nick asked.

  “You’ll see,” he said. “Just don’t let her charm you or feed you anything black.”

  “Gort, right,” Nick said.

  “I’m going to check out Shadowkeep first, and then I’ll look for Bezeal. Kaylie, I want you to go to the Libraries of Garnet. Keep a watch for Rigby or Bezeal. If either of them shows up, you need to let us know.”

  “How will I do that?” she asked.

  “My secret weapon,” Archer said. “Razz!”

  There came a crackling double puff of purple smoke, and then Razz hovered there in front of Archer. “Hiya, boss!” she said.

  “Awwwww!” Kaylie clapped. “It’s a flying squirrel!”

  “I’m not an it,” Razz said, turning her back to Kaylie. “I am a she, as my outfit plainly shows.”

  “Cute!” Kaylie said. She leaped up, grabbed Razz out of the air, and snuggled her up to her cheek.

  “Hey!” Razz cried out. “Hey, leggo! How undignified!”

 
“Razz,” Archer said. “You go with Kaylie tonight.”

  Razz squirmed out of Kaylie’s grasp, swooped up in the air, and hovered in front of Archer’s nose. “Really?” she said. “Really, boss? She thinks I’m a stuffed animal.”

  Archer grabbed Razz out of the air so fast that her acorn beret whirled. “Listen to me, Razz. You go with Kaylie. And don’t you dare bail on her.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said indignantly.

  “Right,” Archer said. “You stay with her, answer her questions, and if there’s a threat, any threat at all, you come get me. You understand?” He opened his hand and let her out.

  “I understand, Archer,” Razz said. “I won’t let you down.”

  “Good, Razz,” he said. “Thank you.” He turned and looked from Kaylie to Nick and back. “We meet back here before the Stroke of Reckoning. You two entered the Dream first, so you’ll need to get back before I do. Leave some kind of sign to let me know you got here and got out safely.”

  “Bonzer plan, mate,” Nick said. “So, I’ll anchor down here, then?”

  “Right,” Archer said, loosing the rendering mallet and an anchoring stake from his back-hanger sheath. “We all do.” He slammed the mallet down onto the anchor’s striking plate and the shaft pierced the snow and ice. Instantly, Archer’s wishing well appeared. He turned to watch the others.

  Kaylie gave her anchor stake a few heavy smacks with the mallet, and Patches, her favorite stuffed doll, appeared. Only this version of Patches was much bigger than a teddy bear.

  More like a grizzly, Archer thought. And he thought he knew why his sister had made this gigantic version of Patches the Scarecrow to be her anchor. He might have let his imagination wander back to the previous year’s climactic battle with the Nightmare Lord, but he wanted to see what Nick’s anchor would be.

  Nick wandered a few yards away and slammed his anchor stake into the ice with one strike of the mallet. Rising from the snow, came a sprawling tree with a mix of dark green and dark red foliage. Small berries or seeds hung from the ends of the branches.

  “Tell me about your anchor, Nick,” Archer said. “If it’s not too personal.”