He’d seen Tenyo try to fake Agglar out and fail big-time.
And he’d heard an awful lot about the Eye of Dedi.
Alex slowed his pacing.
The Eye of Dedi. That might be the key. Was it some kind of magical amulet or artifact that could do miraculous things? Alex doubted it, but who cared? What mattered was that Christopher Agglar wanted it. Desperately. And Agglar was in charge around here.
Finding the Eye would give Alex the upper hand. Agglar would let him go and would hand Emma over if Alex could find the Eye and give it to him.
And the first step toward finding the Eye would be…
…getting out of this room. Which he couldn’t do.
Great job, genius, Alex thought. You just got all the way back to square one. With a groan, he flopped onto the bare mattress of the bed and stared at the ceiling, waiting for another idea to come to him.
None did.
He stared at the ceiling some more. It was supremely uninteresting.
And the wardrobe in the corner was rattling.
Startled, Alex sat up, fixing his eyes on the piece of furniture. It remained still.
Okay. Nothing going on there. Probably just a change in air pressure making the wood shift in its joints like an old house creaking in the night. Nothing special. No reason to worry…
The wardrobe shuddered again, and its doors sprang open.
Alex rolled off the bed and dropped down behind it. Peering cautiously over the mattress, he saw that the wardrobe was empty except for a couple of wooden hangers rocking back and forth.
Okay. No reason to be spooked by a ratty old wardrobe. Alex stood up, brushing dust off his pants, and strode over and closed the doors.
The doors popped back open. Alex jumped away, tripped over his own feet, and landed hard on the floor.
“Master Alex?” Pimawa’s head poked out between the wardrobe doors. A hanger was dangling from one ear. “There you are. Let’s go!”
“You!” Alex jumped to his feet. His fists clenched. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
If not for Pimawa, he would not be back in this room. Or in the Tower at all!
“Please, Master Alex,” Pimawa begged. “We need to find Emma.”
“Agglar has her,” said Alex. “Just what you wanted.”
“She got away.”
Hope flared inside Alex, but he squashed it down brutally. “I don’t believe you,” he said flatly. He couldn’t trust the rabbit.
Pimawa stepped fully out of the wardrobe and lowered his voice. “There is much that you do not know.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, people keep telling me that. That I don’t know who my parents really were or what they really did. That I don’t know where I am or how things work here. But you know what? I’ve learned a few things. That this place is full of magicians who can barely do any magic, for one. That my parents died chasing a stupid relic for a madman who wants to rule the world. So I think I’ve learned enough.”
“We don’t have time for this right now,” said Pimawa. “Please, Master Alex, you must come with me.”
“Yeah, you said that before. And I ended up locked in this room. What makes you think I’m going to trust you now?”
“Because I was wrong,” Pimawa answered. “Wrong about so many things. And I’m sorry.”
Alex didn’t have an answer to that.
“My first mission was to keep you safe,” the rabbit said. “I thought that bringing you here to the Tower was the way to accomplish that. But I was…mistaken. Quite.” Pimawa’s large eyes pleaded with Alex. “I am still trying to keep you safe, Master Alex. I swear to you. But I would be happy to wait while you consider your other options.”
Alex looked around the room and let out a long sigh.
He didn’t trust Pimawa. The Jimjarian had turned him over to Agglar not just once, but twice.
On the other hand, escaping through a trick piece of furniture with a rabbit he did not trust was better than remaining locked up. With as menacing a scowl as Alex could manage, he nodded and followed Pimawa back inside the wardrobe.
“Alex!” Emma ran from cell to cell calling her brother’s name. She would check every last inch of the jail if she had to. She was going to find her brother, no matter what it took.
Prisoners shouted back from behind every locked door.
“I’m Alex, over here.”
“Let me out! I can be Alex!”
“Alex isssss in here, with meeeeee.”
Emma paused to catch her breath, hands on her knees. Eventually the yelling died down. That made it easier to think. Sadly, the only thought that would come to her mind was how miserably she had failed.
“My, my, is that our dear Jane?” said a familiar voice from a cell nearby.
Emma’s head jerked up.
“Neil?” she whispered. “Is that you?”
“Indeed it is, as I have not changed my name since our last meeting,” said Neil Grubian. She could see his eyes now, peering at her from the small square window set into one of the cell doors. “As to the matter at hand…” His voice grew coaxing. “If, perchance, you could release us, we would surrender a rather valuable tidbit of information.”
“Do you know…where Alex is?” Emma gasped. It was the only piece of information she cared about at that moment.
“Clive, is Master Alex, formerly Master Roger, in the library?” Neil called to his brother. “No? Well, then, check the solarium.”
Emma straightened up.
“I’m not in the mood for jokes,” she snapped. “Do you know where my brother is?”
Neil sighed. “Truthfully, no.”
“Then goodbye.” Emma headed off down the corridor toward the cells she had not yet checked.
“However!” Neil shouted at her back.
She paused.
“Given that you and your brother are, it seems, valuable commodities these days,” Neil said, “finding him would be in our own self-interest.”
Emma frowned, thinking hard. “Okay, then. So I let you out of there, and you help me find Alex?”
Neil grinned at her through the tiny window. “My dear, our new occupation seems to be nothing but helping you and your brother.”
Slowly, Emma pulled out the warden’s keys, fumbling through them until she found one that slid easily into the lock of the Grubians’ cell. She hesitated. Could she trust two smugglers and criminals to keep their word?
She’d trusted Derren, and that hadn’t worked. She’d trusted Savachia, and he’d let her down as well.
But she might be able to trust Clive and Neil. Not to help her because they cared about her, or because it was the right thing to do. But to help her because it would get them out of a jail cell.
Self-interest. Savachia had told her it was the only thing she could rely on. Maybe he’d been right.
Emma turned the key in the lock, hoping she wouldn’t regret the decision.
The door swung open, and Neil bounded toward Emma with open arms. “Good to see you again! How is your abduction going?”
She slipped out of his embrace as Clive ducked out of the cell and tipped his hat to her.
“Which way?” she asked them.
Neil cocked his head to one side. “My dear, don’t you know? We haven’t seen much of the premises, after all.”
Emma looked from left to right. “Well, I’ve checked all the cells along there.” She pointed right. “So I guess we can go that way….” She pointed left, turned her head, and gasped.
Savachia, still supporting his half-conscious father, rounded a corner along the corridor to her right. He staggered in their direction at a lurching run.
“How adorable. You two are still together!” Neil exclaimed. He held out his hand
as Savachia approached. “Neil and Clive Grubian. Pleased to meet you, I think.”
“We are not together,” Emma snapped.
“Ah, quarreling already, I see,” said Neil. “That happens a lot to couples who are brought together by kidnapping. Quite common. My, my. To be young and in—”
Emma yanked Neil’s jacket, trying to tug him down the corridor. “Let’s go. We have to find Alex.”
“Not that way,” Savachia huffed as he hurried past them. “It would seem the staff here have a strict no-escaping policy.”
Emma gasped as another figure rounded the corner Savachia had just come around. The man stood there, glaring at all five of them.
“There’s no way out,” Sergeant Miller called. He strode forward into the passageway, followed by the warden and a squad of men. “Surrender peacefully and no one gets hurt…badly.”
Alex
“All clear,” said Pimawa.
Alex crawled out of a hole in the wall where a secret panel had slid aside. The false bottom of the wardrobe had led them into a tunnel between the walls that had finally taken them here, into this white marbled hallway.
It was dotted with alcoves containing half-naked statues in poses that looked, Alex thought, horribly uncomfortable. Pimawa tapped him on the shoulder and they were off, staying close to the walls.
“This part of the Tower was built by Heraclitus,” said Pimawa in a low voice.
“He was a philosopher, not a magician,” Alex muttered.
“Philosophy was his hobby, indeed,” said Pimawa. “But he was a true magician, one of the greatest. He once demonstrated how he could move rocks with his mind. The ancient Greeks stoned him. There’s some biting irony, wouldn’t you say?”
“Can we save the morbid history lessons for another time?” Alex growled. Pimawa nodded and led Alex, in silence, to a spiral staircase that Alex found horribly familiar.
The two of them crouched down to peer at the main hallway of the Tower. It seemed as if weeks and weeks had passed, thought Alex, since he’d been marched through there in chains. There were still guards around the box in the middle of the room, plus more to either side of the doorway that led outside.
Alex groaned softly. “We’ll never make it past all of those guards.”
“As always, you are being much too practical, Master Alex.” Pimawa shook his head, brushed the front of his jacket, and straightened his collar. “One thing I learned from Master Mordo is that belief can define truth.”
“Was that from his lecture on how to become an eccentric recluse in three easy steps?” asked Alex.
“If we act like we are supposed to be walking out those doors, no one will question us,” Pimawa said patiently.
Alex shook his head. “That’s a long way from a surefire plan.”
“If you don’t take risks, you will never achieve miracles.” Pimawa thrust back his shoulders, puffing out his chest, and tugged Alex upright as well. He looked critically at Alex’s posture and tapped his chin, so he held his chin high and looked Pimawa square in the eye. “I learned that from your uncle too.”
“You can carve it on my tombstone,” said Alex.
“Stop shaking,” said Pimawa. “We are supposed to be here, remember?”
Alex shook his head again. “I’m not a good actor!”
“It’s not acting if you believe it to be true. You have done nothing wrong, Master Alex, and neither have I. So you deserve to walk out the door, and I do as well.” Pimawa took the lead and began to walk confidently down the steps, back straight, ears up, neither dawdling nor hurrying.
Alex followed, trying to keep his face expressionless, and hoping that nobody could see the sweat dripping down the back of his neck.
None of the guards even looked up at them as they proceeded down the last flight of stairs. They walked right past the wooden box without so much as a second glance from the sentries.
This might work after all, Alex thought in amazement. It might actually work!
A guard stepped into their path.
The man locked eyes with Alex. Involuntarily, the boy shuffled half a pace backward. His feet wanted to turn and run back up the stairs, but what was the point? There’d be no escape, not with so many guards this close.
So he used every ounce of will to look as annoyed as possible, ignoring the panicky beating of his heart.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, doing his best to sound irritated.
“Your Jimjarian,” said the guard. “Do you always let him walk in front of you?”
Was that…some kind of a trick question? What was he supposed to answer? Alex longed to glance at Pimawa, but he didn’t dare. It would give the game away for sure if the man spotted him looking at a rabbit for instructions.
“Sorry,” said Pimawa. He bowed his head and shuffled back several steps so that he was behind Alex. “I was a bit overzealous. Much too focused on our errand for Master Agglar.”
“Speak only when spoken to,” the guard snapped, narrowing his eyes at Pimawa. “Would Master Agglar really employ a messenger who can’t keep his own Jimjarian in line?”
Oh. Oh! Alex knew what to do now. He turned to Pimawa and jabbed him in the chest with one finger. “Back in line…ah…Bartleby!” scolded Alex. “Speak out of turn once more and I’ll turn your foot into a key chain!”
It wasn’t like Pimawa didn’t deserve a little scolding. But Alex still felt his stomach twist at the act. He didn’t like his new role. He was acting as arrogant as his uncle, or even Christopher Agglar.
“Hmmm. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” the guard said with a smirk. He turned back to his position near the wooden box and jerked his head toward the door.
“Well done,” Pimawa said under his breath as he and Alex moved on their way once more. “Quite convincing. Amazing what a little belief can do.”
With a calm swagger and a new sense of purpose, Alex strode out the Tower entrance. No one stopped them. He headed down the stairs to the plain, where the tree roots rose in their twisted arches.
They’d done it! They’d made it! At the bottom of the stairs, Alex turned to Pimawa with a grin, holding up his hand for a congratulatory high five.
Pimawa didn’t slap his palm. Didn’t Jimjarians know about high fives? Puzzled, Alex tried to catch his eye, but Pimawa seemed to be staring at something over Alex’s shoulder.
Alex turned and saw Pimawa’s father, Rowlfin.
He was standing quite near the bottom of the staircase, in an archway formed of a tree root. A dozen guards in gray were at his back.
“Haven’t you brought enough shame to our family name?” Rowlfin demanded.
“Father,” said Pimawa. “Please, Father, you don’t understand.”
“Of course I don’t,” Rowlfin snapped. “How can I possibly understand why my son would betray not only his own master, but mine as well? Unless he has…plans of his own. Is that it?” Rowlfin advanced toward the steps. “You always questioned a life of servitude. I thought being chosen by one of the greatest magicians of all time would fix that.”
“Father, it’s not safe here,” Pimawa pleaded. He put his paws on Alex’s shoulders. “I believe Master Agglar is after the Eye for himself. Please, let us go. Master Mordo charged me with keeping the children safe. That is what I am doing. My duty to my master.”
“He’s right.” Alex didn’t love the idea of standing up for Pimawa, but the younger rabbit was right and his father was wrong. “Are you going to blindly follow Agglar, or are you going to open your eyes and see what’s really going on?” he demanded.
“Enough!” Rowlfin shouted. He waved a paw at the guards. “Master Agglar will decide what is to be done with you!”
Rowlfin ushered Alex and Pimawa back into the circular room at the top of the Tower.
With a groan, Alex flopped down onto the marble floor to ease his aching legs.
A burst of cold air chilled Alex’s neck as the guards shut the doors behind them.
No chains this time, but what difference did that make? Alex knew he was a prisoner again, and no rope of bedsheets or trick wardrobe was going to get him out.
His parents’ faces looked serenely down at him from their portrait on the wall. They weren’t going to help either.
Once again, Christopher Agglar stood on the far side of the room. He’d glanced up when Alex and Pimawa were shoved in, and had then turned back to his window, looking down on the city.
But this time Agglar wasn’t alone. Another man sat at the table.
“Derren?” Alex jumped up, new energy surging through him. “You’ve come to get us out of here!”
“Ah, Master Alex…,” Pimawa whispered warningly from behind Alex.
Derren smiled bitterly as he held up his cuffed wrists. “Afraid not, Alex.”
Alex felt like falling back down on the floor. Giving up. Crying, even.
There was no way out, not this time.
“Quiet!” Agglar’s voice boomed across the room. But he didn’t turn around. He kept looking out the window, his back to them all. “I have dedicated my life to protecting this world, despite those who refuse to believe the threat facing our people. My job is to do whatever it takes to save what little magic we have left.”
“Even if that means making yourself a dictator?” said Alex. No point in keeping his mouth shut now.
“If that is what it takes!” Agglar spun from the window, striking his cane on the table, inches from Derren’s hands. “This man has done all he can to undermine my work. He has denied the threat facing our world. He has insisted that the Shadow Conjurer is a mere illusion! He has helped foster a rebellion among the citizens, encouraging them to question the leadership of the Circle. He fancies himself the Robin Hood of the Conjurian.” Agglar’s eyes narrowed, lips pulled tight against his teeth. “What has that gotten our people? What help has he given?”
Rise of the Shadow Page 11
