Authors: Marissa Burt
Storybound (19 page)
P
eter thought his name would never be called. One by one his classmates had been grouped together and disappeared into the Tale station. Now only a handful of students were left, and even Professor Edenberry looked bored with the process.
A trio was arguing in the front about whether they should bring an extra lantern or not, which left two other students with Peter. He guessed they must be his group. He was just going to introduce himself when the classroom door burst open, and Mr. Elton nearly fell in. He was soaked in sweat and breathless with the exertion. His greasy hair hung in disarray around his mud-streaked face. He leaned against the doorframe. “Una Fairchild,” he gasped. “Where is she?”
Edenberry’s gaze darted to Peter and then back to Elton. It was so quick Peter thought he might have imagined it.
“Run along,” Edenberry said to the group of arguing students and practically pushed them out the opposite door.
“Una!” Elton wheezed. “It’s an emergency! We have to find her!”
Professor Edenberry’s face tightened in alarm. He went over to the desk and looked carefully at an open ledger before consulting his watch.
“I’m very sorry to say, Mr. Elton,” he said, “that Una Fairchild, Horace Wotton, and Endeavor Truepenny have already left for their exam, and I cannot let you detain them.”
Una didn’t know what to expect from a Villainy practical. Thornhill had said that the goal of this practical was to try and understand the mind of a Villain, not to try and act villainous. Una wasn’t sure she understood the difference and halfheartedly wished she could have actually finished her advising meeting with Thornhill the day before.
The stone dais had taken them to a woodland clearing, and Indy found their instructions posted on a tree. Their assignment was to journey to the Caverns of Tears. Once there, they were to set up camp and look for an enchanted ax. They would have to unlock the enchantments of the ax by dusk of the following day. It sounded simple enough, but, as Indy reminded them, these things were never that straightforward. Inevitably there would be challenges along the way.
“What kind of challenges?” Una asked.
“Yeah, tell her,” Horace said. “She failed her other practical.”
Una ignored him and followed Indy, who set off through the trees.
“Delays,” Indy said. “Weather or trouble crossing a stream. Villainy exams usually have a lot of logic problems. That sort of thing.”
“What happens if you don’t make it back in time?”
“When we finish the quest—when we unlock the ax—we’ll all just be back in the Tale station. If the exam ends before we finish the assignment, we’ll go back just the same. There’s no extra time. No exceptions.”
Delays she could handle. Weather couldn’t be that bad. But could other things happen in the exam? Bad things? Ever since fighting the dragons, Una had wondered what would have happened if Peter hadn’t saved her just in time. She voiced her fears. “What if something, say, attacks us? I mean, can bad things really happen here?”
“Nothing permanent,” Indy reassured her. They had come upon an open field with tall grasses. He unsheathed his sword and cut a path forward. “Whatever happens during an exam isn’t lasting in the real world.” He swiped the other direction. “On my first practical, I lost an arm—it hurt like crazy, but as soon as my mates and I came out of the exam, we all were just the same as when we went in.”
“Has anyone ever . . . well, died?” Una asked.
He was cutting faster now, the rhythm of the sword matching his steps forward. “Of course. Lots of people ‘die,’ if you want to call it that. If your character dies, though, you immediately exit the exam, and it’s an automatic F. You have to be pretty dense to fail a beginner’s practical, though.”
“If you know so much, why are you in the first level of Villainy anyway?” Una asked.
Indy adjusted his grip on the sword. “I was held back—missed too many classes last term,” he said.
Of course, the class where they had learned how to unlock basic enchantments was one from before she arrived at Perrault. By the time they had reached the other side of the field, Indy had filled her in on the proper procedure. But his instructions were hard to follow. Something about looking for inconsistencies and manipulating them with the tools at hand. He said that enchantments were just little deceptions, a twisting of the way things actually were. Horace didn’t say anything but stomped through the newly cut path behind her.
But passing the exam was the least of her worries.
What about the Red Enchantress?
She couldn’t have found all the Muses yet, since Una still had Alethia’s book. She thought about the conversation she had overheard at the Talekeeper Club. Red had said there were only “two left.” If Una’s theory was correct, the Red Enchantress was very close to freeing the Enemy. Perhaps Alethia’s book alone now stood in the way.
The three didn’t speak much more for most of the day. They plodded along the narrow trail, heading toward a large cliff with dark openings that appeared to be the Caverns of Tears. It was an uneventful trek, with not even a rain shower to slow their progress. But when they arrived at their destination, Una understood a little more what Indy had meant about deception. What had appeared to be openings were actually shadows on the rock. And no matter what they tried, they couldn’t find a way inside. The day was fading fast, and, after a short discussion, they decided to build their camp near the cliff, so they could rise early in the hope of seeing the stone in the morning light. Indy seemed to think that the dawn would bring out the impurities.
After they had picked a spot, Indy left to find something to eat before darkness fell. Una gathered sticks and twigs for a fire while Horace went to fetch water from a creek they had crossed earlier. She was right. Her flint was at the bottom of her satchel. In no time at all, she had the fire crackling and plopped down by it to await the boys’ return.
Indy came into the clearing first, toting a small rabbit over one shoulder and a cloth full of berries in the other hand. “Roasted rabbit,” he said.
Una wrinkled up her nose, but she knew that a meal full of berries wouldn’t be enough after skipping breakfast that morning. She watched Indy skin the rabbit. His deft hands worked quickly, the shiny muscle of the rabbit’s flesh emerging under the swift strokes of his knife.
This was the first time Una had ever been alone with him. And for once she knew what to say. “Why do you always watch me?”
The methodical scraping stopped. Indy stared hard at her. “What do you mean, fair lady?”
Una clamped her mouth shut. She had already forgotten that this was an exam. Though Peter had told her the examiners couldn’t know her thoughts, they were reading everything she and the boys said and did.
“Never mind,” she mumbled, and added a “kind sir.” She stood. What would a Lady do to help set up camp?
Might as well try for an A.
She swept the leaves off to the edge of the clearing. Tidying up seemed ladylike. Once the rabbit was roasting over the fire, Indy left to get the water himself, since Horace had returned only to sit under a tree where he appeared to be sleeping.
Every so often, he would open his eyes long enough to say something rude like, “When’s dinner, woman?” Or, “Where’d our Villain go? I need to kick him in the side.”
Una was never gladder to see anyone than when Indy returned. It had gotten cold once the sun disappeared, and the three of them gathered around the little fire to share their meal. The berries disappeared too quickly, and Una forced the rabbit down, because she was so hungry.
They all sat in silence together for a long while. Soon the quiet was broken with the sounds of the night animals. The stars overhead looked like little cut holes in black velvet. The fire popped and crackled, tiny bursts of heat blending with the cold air.
After a while, Indy stood. “I’ll take first watch,” he said. “You two get some sleep.”
Una didn’t have to be told twice. Not sleeping the night before coupled with the day’s hike made it nearly impossible for her to keep her eyes open. She found a relatively flat spot on one side of the fire and set her satchel down for a pillow. It didn’t matter that she only had her cloak between her and the hard ground. It didn’t matter that Horace’s snores were nearly as loud as Professor Roderick’s voice. Almost as soon as Una shut her eyes, she was out.
When Indy woke her several hours later, her body was still heavy with slumber. Everything tingled. “I’m up. I’m up,” she said to Indy, who, once he saw that she was sitting, went over to the other side of the fire. Soon, she could hear the sound of his regular breathing.
Despite the chill of the night air and the newness of her surroundings, Una had a hard time staying awake. She rubbed her eyes and tried to clear her mind, but her thoughts were jumbled and foggy with sleep. That was when she remembered what was in her satchel.
Wide awake now, Una waited until she was sure that Indy was fast asleep. She pulled out a few other books first, but then her fingers found the dragon book. She glanced over at Indy, and then at Horace.
So far, so good
. The book felt like it belonged in her hands, a solid weight, and she ran her fingers lightly over the black dragon that snaked up the spine. She had to figure out how to open it. In the firelight it was hard to see the blue border. Una felt along the edges. If she did open it, would it take her to Alethia’s house, just like the one that had taken Jedediah to Sophia’s cottage? And if it did, what would she find there?
Even though the heat from the fire was warm, she shivered. She examined the binding. It looked sound. The cover was a soft brown leather with a dulled pattern set into the front. No matter what she did, no matter how she turned it or thumped it or pulled on the edges, it remained shut fast. For a long time she traced the dragon on the spine. She sighed. After all this, and she didn’t know how to open the book. Maybe there was a way to ask Professor Thornhill about Muse books without making her suspicious.
Fat chance.
Or was there another teacher they could ask? Una remembered Peter saying that his Backstory professor had been fired for talking about the Muses. Maybe he knew something about their books. That seemed like her best shot. As soon as the practical was over, she and Peter would find him. Una’s eyes grew heavy, and it wasn’t long before she nodded off again, the book clasped tightly against her chest.
E
lton hadn’t stayed in the classroom after Edenberry told him Una wasn’t there, and Peter waited until Edenberry’s back was turned before he slipped out the classroom door. This would probably mean another failed practical, but Peter didn’t care. He rushed down the hall and outside.
Elton must know that Una had the book. What else would have him in such a panic? Where would Elton go next? Peter watched groups of happy students who had no exams today and were relaxing on the quad. That was it! The Tale station. Elton might follow Una there.
Peter couldn’t go back to the classroom since Edenberry would be there, waiting to send him into his own exam. He was halfway to the Tale station’s main entrance when Sam found him.
“I’m going to ace it, Peter,” he said with a self-satisfied smile. “Eating practicals are a piece of cake. Literally. I just have to find the room and—”
Peter interrupted him. “Una’s in trouble.” He explained about Elton.
“Forget Eating!” Sam’s eyes grew wide. “Lead the way.”
It didn’t take them long to find the right examination wing, empty now that all the students were in the exams. The hallway was well marked, and they soon found the correct door. Sam pawed Peter’s leg. “Wait. I smell something, Peter.” He opened his mouth to take in more of the scent. “There are beasts here.” His back was arched, his fur puffed out, and his eyes round.
“Beasts?” Peter swallowed. “Really?”
Sam’s nostrils flared. “And not the talking kind.”
Peter shivered. Talking animals were one thing. Wild ones were another.
And wild beasts!
He pulled his sword from its sheath.
Sam slinked forward. They could hear the snarls before they were halfway down the hall. The air smelled of wet fur, and the growls and snaps up ahead set Peter on edge. He crept along the passageway. How many were there? Three, maybe four?
The noises grew louder, and soon Peter could see around the corner. It was worse than he thought. There were five of them. And they were the wolf kind. Each was packed into a wooden crate, but, instead of taming them, their captivity whipped them into a fury. Their powerful muscles flexed under matted fur as they threw their bodies at the crate walls, rocking them from side to side. Frenzied howls filled the air, and they snarled at each other through the slats. Peter caught glimpses of gleaming yellow eyes and sharp fangs glistening with saliva as the beasts tried to snap through the crates. The howling escalated. They knew Peter and Sam were there.
Elton stood next to them, mumbling something incoherent as he squinted at a tiny book. Every so often, he dabbed his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “Shut up!” he screamed at the beasts. “Just shut up!” He looked over, and Peter didn’t duck quickly enough. Elton had seen him. “So that’s it, my delicious creatures,” Elton said. “We have a visitor.”
Peter ran out to the middle of the room. Sam galloped close behind. “We know what you’re doing, Elton,” Peter said. “We’ve come to stop you.”
Elton looked at Peter’s brandished sword and laughed. “Oh really? The little Hero has come to save the day?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. You’re too late.” The air behind him was shimmering into an oval. With a flick of his wrist, Elton dropped the doors of the crates, and the snarling beasts crashed out.
“Gog! Magog!” he commanded, and two of the beasts looked at him. “The boy and the cat are yours.” The beasts paced warily, eyeing their prey. “Farewell, Peter Merriweather,” Elton said with a sneer. “I can’t say that I’ll miss you.” The strange oval behind him now looked like a smooth mirror. Elton stepped backward into it and disappeared. As soon as he was gone, the beasts attacked. Peter moved to the right, and Sam went left, his fur standing all on end and making him look twice his normal size. Peter gripped his sword tighter, hoping that all his Weaponry practice would pay off. He felt the adrenaline pulse through his veins.
The larger of the two, Magog, sprang at Peter. Peter rolled instinctively, and the beast hit the wall directly behind him. Growling, Magog turned and paced the length of the room, her yellow eyes fixed on Peter.
He braced himself. Perhaps if he was quick, he could stab the beast as it attacked. Before Magog leaped, however, a furry, spitting ball flung itself onto the beast. “Sam!” Peter yelled. “No!” Peter took two steps forward, then a crushing mass slammed into his left side, and his sword clattered down out of reach. Gog had found him. On the floor now, Peter fought blindly, pummeling the beast’s foul flesh with his fists. He felt Gog’s hold loosen. He stretched down for the dagger in his boot. He stabbed the beast with it, sinking the blade deep into its body, and the creature shuddered and collapsed onto Peter. He heaved the creature off his face, but his torso was still pinned. The rank smell of the beast filled his nostrils, and Peter shook his head to clear it. And then he saw Sam.
Sam clawed and bit like a wild thing, and Magog yelped in fury and pain. Sam bit hard on the beast’s neck and began working his hind legs, digging deep into Magog’s chest. Peter gathered his strength once more and wrenched Gog’s dead body a little farther to one side. One leg was free.
Magog flailed her great head from side to side, hitting Sam against the stone wall with each blow. Peter could hardly watch. He pulled frantically at his pinned leg. He had to help Sam. With one final shove, he freed himself from the huge carcass and crawled to his feet. Sam’s grip had grown weaker, and as Peter raced across the dais, Magog violently flung the little form across the room, where it lay still.
“No!” Peter yelled, and threw himself at the beast. He grabbed his discarded sword, and struck out. The blade hit soft flesh, but Magog was strong. Her jaws snapped at Peter unfailingly, and as he tried to dart away, she sank her teeth into his shoulder.
Peter yelled in pain as she bit down, clawing at his back with her forepaws. He flipped his sword in one smooth movement and stabbed blindly behind him. Magog’s teeth loosened. But Peter was on his knees. Black spots were in front of his eyes. The walls were turning a strange color, and then an incredible weight toppled onto his back, and everything went black.
It was still dark when Una awoke. Indy’s boot was nudging into her side, and she sat up groggily. Her neck was stiff from slumping back against the tree. The fire had nearly gone out, and her fingers felt numb with cold. She had slept through her watch and, it looked like, Horace’s as well.
That should make Horace happy.
“Horace is gone,” Indy said in a monotone.
Una looked across the campsite. The ground where Horace had slept was flat and empty. “Maybe he went for firewood?” she said.
Indy kicked at a pile of dirt. “The little coward’s deserted. And, wouldn’t you know it, he took his supplies with him. I bet he’s off to find the enchanted ax on his own. Just like a Villain.”
She stretched to work the knots out of her back. Then she remembered.
Alethia’s book!
She felt around on the ground frantically and, finding no success, hopped up to shake out her skirts.
“Looking for this?” Indy said. The book sat in his hand. In the dying firelight it looked like any other book. Except for the dragon snaking up the side. “Where did you get it?”
“Give it back.” Una grabbed for the book, but he held it up out of her reach. “Indy”—she stood up on her tiptoes, but he easily moved away—“you don’t understand. You’ve got to give it to me. It’s important.”
“I know,” he said as he tucked the book into his cloak pocket. “Which is why you shouldn’t have brought it into a practical examination.”