Benotripia- The Complete Trilogy

by McKenzie Wagner

  The room was made of stone and had a single oil lamp glowing on a small table. She beckoned for them that the coast was clear.

  Jessicana and Astro climbed up.

  “Come on,” Roseabelle mouthed.

  She led them to a stone door. Roseabelle pushed on it tentatively.

  It opened up to a wagon. The back of it was facing them. In front was a short Darvonian with his back turned to them.

  They dove into the back. It smelled of straw, and Roseabelle saw a group of crates filled with black fruit of all different shapes and sizes.

  The straw was enough to cover Roseabelle and her friends. They felt the cart jostle and then move forward. It was a long ride. It seemed to be endless.

  When Roseabelle peeped her head out of the cart, the sun was rising. She was hungry, so she took a mango from her pack and ate it.

  She thought that they really needed to draw on the trutan. They had illustrated a bit when in the passage, but since then they hadn’t taken a pen to the trutan.

  The cart came to a stop. Roseabelle shared a look with Jessicana, which showed they were thinking the same thing: We need to get out of here! Roseabelle saw Astro embedded in the straw.

  He was pawing at it and raising his head to the surface. “No, Astro,” Roseabelle hissed, but before she could take action, he had risen to the air.

  His head came back under. “Get out,” he whispered urgently.

  “How?” Jessicana hissed.

  “Just go,” Astro whispered, “his back is turned. Go.”

  Roseabelle and Jessicana scrambled at the straw and rose to the surface. Astro had been right; the old Darvonian’s back was turned.

  They got out of the cart and stepped onto black pavement. They ducked behind the old wheelbarrow. The old Darvonian man turned around, and Jessicana peered over the side.

  She leaned back to Roseabelle and whispered, “He’s loading the fruit onto another cart. Astro’s still in that one. If the man pulls out enough crates, he could be exposed.”

  “Let’s hope Astro gets back out soon,” Roseabelle whispered.

  When the old man was loading a fat crate of fruit, Astro leaped out and came tumbling down right on top of Roseabelle.

  “Ouch,” she grunted. Jessicana pulled Astro off and gave him a you-don’t-always-have-to-be-such-a-show-off look.

  Luckily the man who was loading the fruit hadn’t heard Astro. He absentmindedly carried fruit back and forth from his cart to the other.

  When he was done, he began to steer his cart around. The friends clung to the back, and when it was facing the opposite cart, they dove in.

  Astro pumped in the air and silently slid into the straw. Roseabelle and Jessicana did likewise.

  A few hours later, Roseabelle looked above the straw to see where they were going and saw the scenery for the first time. They were in a sea of dry tree trunks tangled and matted together, their branches sharp and pointy. They had no leaves or buds or fruit. They were just bare. Up ahead Roseabelle spotted a valley. They were heading toward it.

  She was wondering if they would ever find her mother. She sank back into the straw and fell into a tiresome sleep.

  ROSEABELLE WAS HAVING A WEIRD DREAM. SHE WAS ON A boat on Blackwater Sea traveling to Darvonia. She had no idea why, but the voyage seemed very important.

  On the boat was a Darvonian. He was following her every command. It was a little strange, but she didn’t mind until he started saying, “Yes, Sheklyth.” “Of course, Sheklyth.” “May I help you, Sheklyth?” “Is there anything you require, Sheklyth?”

  Roseabelle realized she was wearing a black hood. What was going on? She pulled up her long sleeve. Her skin was pale and her fingers were too long.

  “Slow down,” she barked at the Darvonian. Her voice was different. She leaned over the side of the boat and looked at her reflection in the black water. It was hard to see, but it was there.

  When she saw her reflection, Roseabelle was looking at the face of her trainer, Shelby. “What? I’m Roseabelle,” she exclaimed in Shelby’s voice. “This isn’t right!”

  The wind howled as if with laughter, the waves splashing in her face. Then she woke up.

  Roseabelle started fiddling with some straw.

  What had been going on in her dream?

  She had been Shelby, for sure. But had the Darvonian known she was Shelby?

  What did it mean? If he had known that Shelby was a Benotripian, well, any Darvonian would have hurled a Benotripian overboard immediately.

  But the Darvonian had been calling Shelby a different name. What was it again?

  Shirley?

  No, that wasn’t it.

  Seklt?

  No, that didn’t seem right either.

  But how could Shelby have concealed her identity? It made no sense. Maybe it had just been a silly dream with no meaning.

  But all the same, Roseabelle had a terrible nagging feeling that Shelby wasn’t exactly what she seemed.

  * * * * *

  ASTRO WAS LOOKING AT THE STARS. THEY WERE STILL THE same as they were in Benotripia.

  He thought guiltily of his parents. Astro’s mother had been due back home a week from the day they had left for Darvonia. She was surely frantic by now.

  And his dad—well, he was too busy with his job to worry about Astro.

  Astro was an only child like Roseabelle. He knew that while Jessicana always complained about her two sisters and three brothers, she was truly lucky to have them. They had gone with her parents on vacation since all of them had graduated from ESOK and were much older.

  Astro wished that his parents could see him now. He was no longer the gawky ten-year-old who told jokes and funny stories to get him through the day, no longer the person who was always picked last in every activity and skipped classes because he was tired.

  He had grown mentally and physically, putting others before himself and learning to work hard and endure hardships. He had been at sea for more than a week!

  And he had Roseabelle to thank for it. He couldn’t help admiring her bravery and her determination to find her mother. She could have turned back on the sea voyage or the first step she took on Darvonia. But she held fast and fought with all her might, not losing hope of finding her mother.

  And there was Jessicana with her mighty brain. Her talent was extraordinary, and Astro had complete faith in her.

  He wanted to help the two girls that were with him. He was occasionally teased at school for hanging out with girls, but he didn’t care because he knew secretly the other students were envious. Besides, he would rather hang out with them than anybody else. Roseabelle and Jessicana were different than others. Truly they were.

  * * * * *

  JESSICANA PUSHED HER HEAD THROUGH THE STRAW. THE cart was moving slowly. And up ahead was a castle. Jessicana blinked. It was still there, and they were moving toward it. It had an enormous drawbridge, which was now closed. She could see three towers that loomed above and five turrets all constructed out of latick. They didn’t have castles in Benotripia. Almost everyone was treated as equals.

  Though Jessicana still wanted to overlook the castle, she could see a quarry up ahead and since it was light, many Darvonians were probably mining in it. She ducked down into the straw, not knowing what she was facing.

  The cart came to a quick halt the following morning. Roseabelle was drawing in the trutan. She put it away. She dug into the straw sideways and found Astro, arms behind his head and snoring loudly, and Jessicana, stretching her arms and yawning.

  “Jessicana, I’ll wake Astro. Go see what’s going on,” Roseabelle ordered gently.

  Jessicana, now fully awake, popped her head out of the straw, and Roseabelle shook Astro. He woke, and they waited for Jessicana to give them a report. When she dipped down again, she told them, “We’re at a castle. I saw it yesterday and I forgot to tell you. There’s people everywhere—it’s pandemonium.”

  Astro raised his head a little out of the straw and then s
aid, “They’re selling and trading all sorts of stuff.” He looked hopefully at Roseabelle. “Can we go?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Come on,” Astro complained, “we have those Darvonian robes and some Benotripian money. We can get Darvonian money from the trutan or maybe trade something we have for things we need. We might even be able to get in the castle. Please?” he added.

  “Astro, the whole point of this mission is to rescue my mother. I’m not going to risk some market trip for her freedom. Got it?” Roseabelle said fiercely.

  “Didn’t you hear what I just said? This might be our free ticket to the castle. I’m almost positive that Danette is here!” Astro argued.

  Roseabelle sighed. “Fine, but honestly we have to find out what Darvonian money is before we draw. Astro, you go!”

  Astro pulled on his black robe and carefully leapt from the cart.

  “I hope this works,” Roseabelle muttered to Jessicana. A few minutes later Astro was back, rolling his eyes. “What is it?” Roseabelle demanded.

  “Sorry,” Astro said with a note of sarcasm, “but I just can’t believe it. They have twenty-five kinds of money! I can only remember one. It’s half latick and half gold. Talk about exquisite! They can’t even build properly, yet they have all this fancy currency.”

  Roseabelle took the trutan, a bottle of boorsh-berry juice from Benotripia, and a small twig. She took the twig and began to draw a large sack, including heaps of half latick and half gold coins within the sack, onto the trutan.

  The three friends then gathered to wait, not noticing the cloaked figures chuckling to themselves outside of the cart.

  CHAPTER 12

  Dust Draining

  WHEN THE COINS WERE COMPLETE, JESSICANA AND Roseabelle pulled on their cloaks, and Roseabelle tied the sack of money to her waist. They scrambled out of the cart. No one was facing them. So they carefully moved to the stone pavement.

  Roseabelle gaped at the sight. How could anything be so horrifying and amazing at the same time?

  There were stalls and booths in every direction, and cloaked figures were selling their goods behind them. One booth was selling weapons, including swords, daggers, spears, bows and arrows, trapitas, Thepgiles, and Dragocone rays. Another was trading stories written on trutan.

  Astro picked a trutan up and, after reading a few lines, turned green and put it down. He shuddered. “Who would ever want to read that?” he muttered filled with distaste.

  One booth was selling A Journey, apparently Kinetle’s autobiography, while another sold dried skins and furs. Darvonians were selling food, water, political guides, and even some things that Roseabelle thought she would get sick over.

  “Let’s get what we need and go,” she whispered to Jessicana. “I’m getting restless to go to the castle.”

  Jessicana nodded and told Astro.

  Roseabelle went to a weapon stall and asked the Darvonian how many she could get if she paid him a coin. He replied gruffly that it was a cutthroatine coin and with it she could buy nine swords, three spears, five quivers of arrows, two crossbows, one Trapita, and a Dragocone Ray.

  Roseabelle was flustered and said she would only take a dagger, a crossbow and quiver of arrows, and a spear. He gave her two handfuls of pure silver coins in change and told her to move it. She slipped the coins in her sack and bought a sheath for her dagger.

  After purchasing a leather belt, a canteen of lukewarm water, and a red robe, she met her friends at some other stalls.

  Jessicana had gotten A Journey and a political guide.

  Astro had purchased a few Benotripian birds that had clearly been stolen (and he planned to set them free) and a small Dragocone Ray.

  A few minutes later, they stood in front of the drawbridge of the castle.

  “So Mister let’s-go-into-the-castle-and-everything-will-work-out-fine, what’s the plan?” Roseabelle asked, her voice low.

  Astro gulped. He cleared his throat and said loudly, “We would like to speak with Kinetle immediately.”

  The bystanders didn’t hear, but a magnified voice rumbled, “What is the cause?”

  This had better work, Roseabelle thought.

  “Uh, for EFID,” Astro confirmed.

  Roseabelle and Jessicana gaped at him. How did he know what to say?

  “Come in,” the voice said.

  The drawbridge lowered. Once in the courtyard, Roseabelle whispered, “How did you know that?”

  “Hush, there’s no time to explain,” Astro said quietly.

  They crossed the courtyard and went up to the castle looming above. The friends looked back at the drawbridge. It was up again. They shuddered as the large castle door in front opened by itself. They stepped inside and viewed their surroundings.

  The windowless room they were in was built of dark, sturdy stone. They didn’t have time to notice much more because Roseabelle’s face turned bright green, Jessicana’s legs slipped under her, and Astro had to lean onto the wall for support. A horrible stench was filling the room and drenching the three friends in disgusting odor. Roseabelle gasped for clean air. The smell was a thick mixture of spoiled meat, rotten eggs, garbage, and wet wool.

  Jessicana and Astro gasped continually. “Can’t . . . breathe,” Jessicana coughed. She was on her knees, clutching her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed against the stone floor.

  Astro was starting to cough too. “Roseabelle . . . you’re Meta-Mord . . . do something,” he whispered weakly. He too slumped onto the floor.

  Racking coughs filled the air as Roseabelle thought about her powers. What could she do? The smell was making them lose consciousness. Suddenly it came to her. She knew she could drain and dissolve things into thin air.

  She had only done it once because it took tons of energy from her, but now it was her only option. Just as dizziness nearly overcome her, Roseabelle opened her mouth wide and sucked in the air.

  The smell began to diminish and the particles vanished completely. Roseabelle scrambled to Astro’s side and shook him. Astro sat up.

  “That was the most terrible event that’s happened in my life,” he muttered. He turned to Roseabelle. “What did you do?” he whispered. Roseabelle explained. “That is an incredible power,” Astro remarked quietly. “What’s it called?”

  “Dust draining,” Roseabelle answered. “Come on, let’s wake up Jessicana. Whatever you told them, Astro, it worked. Enough to get us into the castle, at least,” Roseabelle said.

  When Jessicana was up, Roseabelle led them forward into the deep bowels of the castle. She realized that they had just entered a minor sitting room. When she opened a heavy stone door, it led to a fork of passages. One led to higher ground, while the other went down. There were a handful of other doors, but Roseabelle saw all different kinds of smoke coming out from under the doors. She didn’t have the strength to dust drain again.

  “Maybe we should split up,” Astro suggested.

  “No,” Roseabelle said sharply, remembering the jelly creature. “We stay together. This is most likely Kinetle’s palace, remember? I say we go up.”

  “Why?” Astro asked.

  “Well, look at the other doors,” Roseabelle explained. “See how they’re built into the wall? There are so many of them that none of them could have a complicated maze inside. Besides, I don’t think my mother is going to be in the very front of the castle. She’d be too easy to get to. And the passage that goes level, well, if you look ahead, it doesn’t go far either. That’s why we should go up.” Roseabelle looked up. “Well, what do you think?” she asked.

  “Well,” Astro said, “it’s a good observation, and it’s the only plan we have. We can always go back if something goes wrong or if we reach a dead end.” Jessicana nodded her head. “Well, let’s continue then,” Astro said encouragingly.

  Jessicana smiled, and then together they tiptoed up the gloomy passage.

  THE PASSAGE SEEMED TO LEAD ON FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE hours, and then they came
to a halt in front of a door with gruesome images carved on it.

  Before Roseabelle peered through a crack in the door, Astro noted, “Darvonians don’t have the best sense of decoration, do they?”

  He chuckled weakly, but no one laughed back. Roseabelle saw a stone floor through the crack, and standing on it were four table legs in the shape of poisonous snakes. Nearby was the grand base of an ornate pot.

  Hearing no sounds, Roseabelle cautiously pushed the door open. As she had supposed, a large desk stood in the middle of the stone floor of the room. Beside it was a black pot containing a withered plant. There was a soft chair made of a velvety substance (something Roseabelle guessed was moon panther fur) and a jar of black ink with a pen.

  Roseabelle saw that there was a piece of trutan on the desk. On it was written,

  S,

  What is taking you so long? You have deliberately failed me. Unbelievable! You, my eldest child, of all people! I tell you, that girl is suspecting you. You’re not even careful. The little Benotripian was bound to know she was being tricked! You have disgraced me! I want you to come to the castle right away. That girl and her friends need a little talking to. See you soon!

  —K

  Roseabelle reread the letter with interest. What did K mean by “that girl”? Could it be talking about herself? But that was impossible! K was obviously a Darvonian and the Darvonians didn’t know that Roseabelle and her friends were here. Well, at least that was what she thought.

  Then she recalled the name of the leader of the Darvonians. Kinetle. Could Kinetle have written this and then forgotten to send it?

  Roseabelle gulped and made sure the trutan was positioned in the place where she had found it. She bent down and studied the ink. By the look of it, the ink was wet, which meant Kinetle had written the letter quite recently.

  Roseabelle shivered. What if Kinetle was in the palace? “Come on,” she said to Jessicana and Astro. “Let’s move it. I have a creepy feeling about this.”

  There was another door at the front of the room, and Astro opened it.

  Before them stood a maze of passageways, tunnels, and dead ends.