by L. R. W. Lee
Chapter Twelve
Trapped!
Village Bed and Breakfast. The crooked sign hung from a peeling white picket fence surrounding the cramped front yard of the inn. Several slats lay on the ground. The grass was overgrown and patchy with weeds and looked like it hadn’t been mowed in quite some time. Dad would have a cow if this was our yard.
As they followed Bee up two rotting steps onto the porch, Andy noticed the painted siding of the inn was also peeling.
“Looks like they don’t get many customers,” Alden whispered as they walked in the front door. Alarm bells sounded in Andy’s head and he tensed.
A burly man stood in the parlor as they entered. He wore a shirt that hung untucked—it was so stained Andy could hardly make out its plaid pattern. His pants looked like “floods.”
“I’m Belzy,” the man growled. “What brings you two up to these parts?” The man crossed his arms and narrowed his beady eyes.
“We’re on official business for King Hercalon,” replied Andy.
“I see.” They heard him mutter under his breath, “They get younger and younger.” Then he prompted, “Well, come on. I’ll show you to your room.”
Belzy led them down a narrow hall with yellowed, peeling wallpaper. They passed rooms numbered one, two, and three before stopping outside an unmarked door. He unlocked it and led them in. A small common area had been furnished with a threadbare sofa and chair, and a separate bedroom was just big enough for two lumpy cots, one against each wall. There was no window, and the darkness and warmth combined with the musty smell to make the room feel claustrophobic. Belzy instructed the boys to leave their things in the common room, then led them farther down the hall to the shared guest bathroom.
“Wash up,” he huffed. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
Andy and Alden thanked him and headed back toward their room. On the way, they saw a maid wearing a white apron over a canary-yellow dress. A white cap covered her hair, but that’s not what made them freeze. The woman was short, with a beak-like nose and long arms that nearly touched the floor. Andy and Alden exchanged glances, trying not to be obvious. The maid looked up as she passed and gave a half smile. They returned plastic smiles.
As soon as they had closed the door to their room, Alden spoke in a hushed tone. “Abaddon’s going to know we’re here and on a mission for the King!”
“Dinner’s ready. Join us in the dining room,” Bee called down the hallway.
“We’ll have to figure this out after dinner.”
They entered a cramped room to find they were the only guests dining with Belzy and Bee tonight. A small table had been set for four. The silverware was tarnished. Bone china plates, which had once been painted with the sun and moon walking hand-in-hand through a meadow, were chipped and missing large parts of the scene.
The maid—her name was Miss Chairee—had prepared dinner. After everyone was seated, she brought out mashed potatoes and turkey, cranberry sauce, green beans, rolls, and all the trimmings—it looked like Thanksgiving dinner! The boys had not eaten since their early lunch and were famished. Everything smelled so good!
Andy took a huge helping of mashed potatoes and turkey and started devouring them. Alden did the same. With each bite, Andy relaxed and even started to feel sleepy from all the activity of the day. He noticed Belzy and Bee share glances periodically. The couple only nibbled at the meal but Andy didn’t think much of it. By the end of dinner, both he and Alden were more contented than they had been in a long time.
Bee proved to be quite the conversationalist, for she kept probing the boys on the details of their journey between tales of life in the village.
Andy yawned, triggering Alden to do the same, which only made Andy yawn again. And once they started, it seemed they couldn’t stop themselves. Just before they dozed off, Belzy and Bee helped them up from the table and led them to the lumpy cots in their room.
“Sleep well,” Belzy said in a sweet tone.
Why’s he so nice all of a sudden? flitted through Andy’s mind.
Even in his very sleepy state, Andy felt the pouch for Methuselah and the key. They were still there. He vaguely heard the door click shut and the lock turn before he drifted off.
It must have been a few hours later when Andy woke with a start. He thought he’d heard someone screaming at him to wake up. His mind felt fuzzy, beyond normal morning grogginess, but a quick survey of the room revealed nothing unusual. Everything was quiet. With no windows he couldn’t tell what time it was. He rolled over.
He’d barely drifted off when he thought he again heard someone pleading for him to wake up. He opened an eye but everything remained still. Andy stretched and yawned.
“Alden.”
“Hmmm.”
“Wake up.”
“Huh? Whhyy?”
“I think we’re in trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think I heard a voice. It was trying to tell me to wake up.”
“Tell it you’re tired.”
“No. I’m serious. Wake up.”
“Fine.” Alden roused and began fumbling to find his clothes in the dark.
Andy stood and reached over Alden. He grabbed hold of the doorknob and turned. Locked. He tried again but it didn’t budge. “The door won’t open.” His voice rose as he spoke.
Alden stopped searching and sat up between the cots. “Want me to try?”
“Be my guest.”
Alden tried with the same result.
“What should we do?”
Andy slammed a fist against the wood, then another. Alden joined him. “Help! Let us out!” the pair yelled at the top of their lungs. No response.
After waiting several minutes, they pounded and yelled again. Still nothing.
Andy started feeling around the walls and ceiling for an opening. “Help me see if there’s any other way out.”
Several minutes later Andy concluded, “This room is sealed tight. We’re not going anywhere.”
“So now what do we do?”
“I don’t know.”
What seemed like hours later their stomachs started complaining and the stuffiness further intensified their discomfort.
“We have to do something. We can’t just sit here,” declared Alden. He tried pounding on the door and yelling for help once more, but no help came. “I’m starving.”
“Me too, but whining about it isn’t going to fix the problem!”
“I’m not whining.”
“Yes you are!”
“No I’m not!”
“Yes. You. Are.”
Alden gave Andy a shove to press his denial. Andy pushed back. Jostling quickly escalated into punching and an all-out brawl ensued.
“You got us into this mess! You suck up to anyone who congratulates you on saving my life. Bee praised you in front of all those people. Now look where we are!” accused Alden, pushing Andy into the wall.
“What do you mean? I didn’t hear you objecting to the dinner invitation,” Andy shot back, landing a jab to Alden’s chin.
“And you, going on and on about you and your dad doing stuff together. I only wish my dad was still alive.” Alden boxed Andy’s ear.
“He took me camping. It was only once, okay!” Andy’s fist found Alden’s shoulder.
“I’ve watched you! Anyone who praises you—” shouted Alden. His fist found Andy’s back.
“What are you talking about?”
“Since the governor brought you up on stage at the festival, you get all puffed up every time people congratulate you!” huffed Alden, landing a blow to Andy’s ribs.
“So what! I’m proud of what I did! I saved your life! You should be thankful!” Andy shoved Alden back against the wall. “You’re just jealous!”
“I’m not jealous!” Alden cuffed Andy’s thigh.
“Yes you are! Why else would you be fighting me?”
“What’s it matter? We’re never getting out of here!”
Andy rubbed his chest under the pouch.
“What was that?”
“Methuselah.”
Andy stopped scuffling and pulled the hilt out. Immediately the blade extended to its full length, but it did more—it began glowing brightly. Andy could see Alden sitting on the adjacent cot, eyes wide.
“Awesome! I didn’t expect that!” Andy exclaimed, examining the blade more closely.
“Can I see it?” Alden’s tone came out hushed.
“Sure, if you stop hitting me.”
Alden frowned but nodded.
As his friend investigated the blade’s light-generating capabilities, Andy remembered the gold key. “Wait a minute. I wonder…” He pulled the key out and scooted down his cot toward the locked door.
“Can you bring the light closer?”
Andy held the key up to the lock.
“It’s too big,” Alden observed.
“I have a feeling…” Andy pressed the key against the faceplate of the lock and pushed. It gave way and shrank to fit.
Alden’s mouth gaped open.
Andy inserted the key as far as it would go.
“Cross your fingers,” he instructed Alden.
Not familiar with the idiom, Alden looked puzzled and, still holding Methuselah, extended both index fingers and crossed them.
Andy looked over. “Nevermind. It’s just an expression.” He slowly turned the key and…click!
“It worked?” Alden studied his crossed fingers.
Andy smiled as he removed the key from the lock.
“How?” Alden chirped, studying the tool. “Where’d you get it?”
“Like Methuselah, it just appeared to me.”
Alden continued inspecting the key as Andy pondered aloud, “Whoever sent us on this mission knew we’d need it. But how? What’s that even mean?”
Alden handed the key back to Andy who returned it to the pouch.
“No idea, but let’s get out of here,” Alden whispered as he handed Methuselah back, reached for the door handle, and encouraged the protesting hinges to permit them exit.
The common room was gray with dawn’s first light, and its coolness refreshed the boys. They crept over to their backpacks, still leaning against the wall where they had left them. Empty. The contents had been taken along with the fog-removing cap. Alden rubbed his empty stomach.
“We’ll find food as we walk,” Andy whispered.
Alden nodded.
They stepped into the hall and Andy closed the door behind them as quietly as possible. They crept down the corridor. Halfway along, Alden stepped on a loose floorboard. It creaked and Andy shot him a look of alarm.
“Sorry,” he mouthed.
Just fifteen feet from their goal. The front door practically screamed of the freedom it would afford. But someone moved about in the kitchen to their right. Andy peered around the corner. The maid was standing at the stove with her back to them. They darted past the hallway, but lumbering footsteps approaching behind them sent bolts of electricity up both their spines. They shared a glance and Andy pointed toward the front door.
They made a run for it. Andy prayed it was not locked. He turned the handle and out they flew across the front porch, down the steps, and past the peeling white picket fence. Belzy started yelling, “Stop thieves! Stop thieves!”
Andy glanced back. The man stood on the front porch waving his fists at them, his arms now grown abnormally long. The maid had joined him and was also yelling. She turned quickly and nearly hit Belzy’s now beak-shaped nose with a kitchen spatula.
Reassured that Belzy did not pursue, the pair slowed to a walk, but rest was not to be, for Alden pointed upward and yelled, “Look!”
They no longer had the benefit of Mermin’s fog-clearing invention. Through the thick fog they could barely make out the forms of several large black birds circling overhead, and they were getting closer!
Andy and Alden ducked under the branches of some nearby shade trees, hoping to draw their attackers off. They charged back toward the town square and the well, the way they had come, keeping to the cover of the trees as much as possible. Unfortunately, there were not many trees to hide under.
Andy’s heart raced. Those things are gonna attack any minute!
They reached the well only to find a group of men with long arms and beak-shaped noses waiting for them—the group was armed with all manner of weapons.
One look and the boys kept sprinting. But there was no place to hide! Stabbing stitches knifed Andy’s side. Alden clutched his stomach, and Andy knew his friend experienced equal pain. Andy tried to gulp in air but breath would not come fast enough. Just when he felt he could run no farther, the Forest of Giants came into view. No!
The vulture-men closed in. Yes!
Without stopping, Andy charged into the forest. Alden hesitated only a moment.
