The Questory of Root Karbunkulus - Quill (29 page)

The Termite gave up. “Locked.” He
gestured.

A few more muffled underwater tones indicated
a new plan of action. They split off, each taking a different path.
Thankfully, away from Root.

With no time to waste, Root pulled out
Haverly’s Road and released it from its pouch, hoping beyond hope
that it wouldn’t float away in a million gravelly pieces.

The Road fell slowly and heavily downward and
landed. There was no dirt to mix with but this didn’t seem to
matter as the pale, sea-weedy flooring took shape instead.

“Hello and thank you for choosing That-a-Way
Roads. How may I be of service?” Somehow the Road’s words had come
out full and clear.

Not so for Root. “999 Lampfire Lane!” She
exploded in a watery blur. She was grateful that she had managed to
memorize the address on Vulcherk’s receipt. It wouldn’t have gotten
her very far to have had to pull it out under water.

“I’m afraid I do not understand you. Please
try again.”

Root would never have imagined in a zillion
years that she’d be underwater, with gills doing Charades for a
bunch of dirt but there she was, desperately miming ‘pain’ and then
counting down the letters to…

“L! Lane! You need to get to 999 Lampfire
Lane?” Road asked excitedly. No one had ever made a request this
way before and it was very entertaining.

Root nodded, just as excited and then pointed
upwards.

“In the
new
Divit!”

More ecstatic nods.

“Well, let’s get on with it then, shall
we!”

Root soon learned she was on the Southside of
the Drowned City with an UpWest tunnel not too far away. This
tunnel led to the Old Shire district of New Divit, a very wealthy
neighbourhood of impressive mansions, villas and the like. When
these houses were built, they spared no expense and most were
equipped with their own personal landing pool with tunnel access to
the Snakes. Road told Root that number 999 Lampshire Lane was
nestled in the very heart of this upper, upper class neighbourhood
and all she had to do was keep an eye out for its number along the
tunnel wall.

“You are more than welcome! It was my
pleasure, indeed.” Road said and happily twirled back into its
pouch.

Root stayed close to the walls of buildings,
in case a quick slip through another door or window was needed.
Stogie and CPR kept her safely between them, though CPR’s natural
curiosity led her slightly off the path at times. Stogie was always
very good at nipping her back into line.

They followed Road’s direction without a
hitch. Hopefully this meant the Termites had given up and weren’t
about to ambush them. The UpWest tunnel had a screen over it, most
likely for safety reasons, so one wouldn’t get unintentionally
sucked in. Root snuck up to it. She could already feel the pull of
its current. When no ambush was in sight, she found a prominent
iron lever and with a last glance around her, pulled it down.

Whoosh!

If Root thought the last flood was fast, she
was in for a surprise. This tunnel sucked them in and had them
cycloning within seconds. But as Road had said, it would taper off
a little farther down and then clip along at a moderate pace

They just had to get though this part.

At one point Root felt CPR brush into her. Or
was it Stogie? And then the worst was over. The water calmed and
gently drifted them along in the mood of a Sunday drive. Now able
to get her bearings, Root could see a fleet of round openings all
along the tunnel walls. These were gateways to smaller, privately
owned water passages and true to Road’s words, these gateways were
shwanky. The Old Shire of Divit had money, indeed. Though tarnished
in the sea-green effects of prolonged desertion there was no doubt
of the quality. Some of them were trimmed in brass with curls of
detail along their tops. Some were gilded gold. Some welcomed them
with slick marble pillars on each side. All of them were numbered.
The one closest to Root had 358 next to it.

Ugh. This could take awhile.

417…589…603…721….888….

Yep. A long while.

924…997…999!

999 Lampshire Lane! Only the
last
one!

Root reached out and grabbed the handles on
the sides of the embellished silver hatch. She turned to make sure
Stogie and CPR were with her before pushing herself into what would
hopefully be the last water tunnel she’d have to take for a very
long time.

She hoped to avoid another geyser-ed ejection
but there would be no such generosity today. She and her tunnel
mates were belched out and splatted without warning in a heap. She
just managed to avoid CPR’s flailing hooves. How in the world Divit
people had managed years of this was beyond her.

After a hoarded moment or two, Root stood up
to see where exactly she and her mates had ended up.

A yard, it would seem. A very nice, very big
yard. One might even say an estate. What with the exquisitely
groomed hedges, the tiers and tiers of flower beds, fountains,
those cute little stone sitting benches, immaculate lawn for miles,
a corner waterfall, huge clay pots springing with blossoms; yes
definitely an estate.

It was nighttime.

Woah. She’d been gone that long? Lian and
Dwyn would be totally freaked, looking for her.

Well, they would just have to wait a little
bit longer.

She led Stogie and CPR stealthily across the
grounds toward the front of the property, hiding in shadows and
trespassing around an enormous manor that, despite its elegance
seemed to have an unnerving dread to it. The way the gingerbread
house feels to the reader who already knows the witch lives in
it.

A series of lampposts cast an eerie glow upon
its many features. There were turrets on each side, front and back
and up all three floors. The entire exterior was of brick and, had
it not been for the lamps, Root would have thought the brick to be
black. But it was a deep, dark red. They walked across the cool,
springy lawn. It was established with oversized weeping willows
that gave nothing in the department of cheeriness. They looked like
wilted ghosts. Like they wanted to ascend but something dark and
powerful weighed them down. Root pulled her cloak around her,
certain it was colder here than anywhere else. She never failed to
be amazed by her cloak’s warmth. And she’d been even more impressed
by its ability to cling like a slick, weightless second skin under
water.

Special thanks to Estrella Fuffleteez.

The manor was just as intimidating up close.
Probably more so. It had a grand entrance that included a pair of
pillars on each side and these journeyed up all three floors.
Windows were large and plenty, but every single one of them was
covered by thick, impenetrable curtains. The place looked mean. Not
haunted mean. Calculating mean. Cold mean.

Root pulled out Vulcherk’s receipt to double
check the address. That’s when she noticed for the first time for
what the receipt had been made.

Gut Oil. One Twilight’s worth of Gut Oil.

Holy Kamoly! Two hundred and fifty thousand
gilds? Woah! She had no idea what Gut Oil was but whatever it was
must be undoubtedly rare to cost that much.

Rare and dangerous.

What on earth was its use? She couldn’t even
imagine. She looked at the manor again then turned and stretched
her view past the iron walls and gate along the whole of the
street. Mansions, the lot. Manicured to perfection with fresh lawns
and fountains and the same unwelcome iron gates. Shadows were
crawling into their corners and crooks. Here and there a lamppost
would fizz and flame.

“Who lives here?” Root whispered to herself,
clutching the receipt. Was it a Quest player? Was it someone else?
Had she over-imagined the whole thing? And just grabbed any old
receipt for some rich Divitinian with his or her own dark
purpose?

999 Lampfire Lane was far back from its thick
iron gate. Standing beside it, Root wondered why it even had a gate
when all one had to do was Hover over it. But then she saw
them.

Shields.

And realized quite shakenly that they had
already seen her.

There were at least four Shields, one every
second post along the fence. And just like Sir Wilbury Heart’s they
were sickeningly large beasts of purple and black plumage with eyes
that pierced the skin. Whoever lived here clearly was not
interested in visitors.

The Shield closest to Root growled. It was a
high-pitched moan that seemed to stay in its nasal cavity. Root had
unknowingly come too close. She could see its feathers lift at the
collar and all round its massive shoulders.

“Sorry” Root gave it a mollifying smile and
backed off.

It didn’t seem quite enough. The snarling
grew louder and soon there were four more yellow eyes upon her.

A deeper growl suddenly came from behind
Root. Her body swung around. It was Stogie. His hackles were
raised, eyes locked, ready to do some pouncing of his own.

“No, Stogie!” Root whimpered and held out her
hands. But the challenge was met. The Shield locked onto Stogie and
crouched low onto its stone perch. Bring it on.

When the team had stayed at Moody Bay, Stogie
had spent far too many hours barking at Sir Heart’s Shield. Just
standing on the ground barking, not quite brave enough to hover
closer. The Shield had for the most part ignored him, having no
appetite for Hovermutt. On the odd occasion when it looked fit to
‘shut that stupid mutt up!’ Sir Heart would remind it of its
station with a quick sharp glance.

But this Shield didn’t seem to have been
given such limits. In fact, Root figured it was probably instructed
to attack anything that it felt was even remotely invasive.

And now Stogie was baring his teeth.

Definitely invasive.

Root couldn’t understand where this new
bravado was coming from until she saw CPR…shrunk and trembling
between Stogie’s legs.

That’s what the Shield wanted. Supper. Wild
cow-pig-rodent.

The standoff mounted. Now three Shields were
in on it, their eyes slanted and piercing.

Root knew she couldn’t just grab Stogie and
CPR and run. The Shields would be on them in seconds. She tried to
stand between them, break the focus. But it was as if they saw
right through her.

The attack was one movement away. Nothing
else existed but an electric silence between them.

Root braced herself.

“Ha ha ha haha..”

The yellow eyes tore away and peered down the
street.

A carriage, loud and barking with laughter
sauntered along…and stopped right in front of 999 Lampfire Lane.
Its occupants did not notice the girl, her Hovermutt and the ugly
wild creature slip away into the bushes.

Attached in front of the carriage by leather
straps were two hulking beastly Hovers and a third that fit the
wiener dog bill. The carriage door slid open and a boy came
out.

Jackpot!

Kor Bludgitt.

He unhitched his Hover, the beastlier of the
two beasts then turned back to the open door.

“I’d invite you in but then I’d have to feed
you….to my Shields,” he laughed.

“That’s quite alright, Bludgitt. I’d much
rather see you and your Shields starve.” Tamik’s voice was like a
rush of fresh air in Root’s ears. She wished she could run right
over and hug her but…uh, no.

“Har har har.” Kor jeered. “And stop
laughing, Flink. You’re encouraging her!” He refocused coolly on
Tamik. “Y’know, if they attacked right now, it wouldn’t be my
fault.”

“Good. Then close the door so I can watch
without getting your blood on my new shirt!”

At this Kor fumed. “You’re as stupid as your
pathetic gewgaw friend. You don’t deserve to be on my team!”

“Well, you’re right there. No one deserves to
be stuck with you! And, at least Root Karbunkulus doesn’t
cheat!”

While Root positively beamed, Kor nearly
exploded. He slammed the carriage door and swatted the remaining
Hovers. The carriage lurched forward and lifted off the ground.

“Noon tomorrow! And don’t be late!” he yelled
after it.

Root watched the carriage and wondered why
her team had never used one before. It certainly would have
improved things, especially during rainstorms. The fact that Lian
hadn’t mentioned it, most likely meant it was too expensive.

Not so, for Kor Bludgitt, it seems.

Kor Bludgitt of 999 Lampfire Lane, Port City
of Divit.

“I knew it! I knew it! I just knew it!” Root
whispered. “Wait til the guys find out!”

She watched Kor, oozing with delight. The
rotten, cheating Kor Bludgitt, caught like a rat. The evidence
right here, in the receipt clutched in Root’s hand.

Kor stood in front of the gate until the
carriage was long gone. Then he did something altogether
confusing.

Once satisfied that his team was well out of
sight, he mounted his Hovermutt and instead of passing through the
iron gates, he tore off down the street in the exact opposite
direction.

He was too preoccupied to notice Root
following at a discreet pace behind him.

Root tucked in shadows and corners where she
could. Thankfully Kor had not looked back. Instead he wove through
Divit like a cab driver, his familiarity all too obvious. Soon the
houses grew smaller and the neighborhoods more congested. Streets
became littered and sour smelling in the night’s heat. If you could
even call it a street that Kor had finally landed in. It was more
of an alley. A dirty, cluttered path of broken down houses. Gone
were the expansive green lawns and gardens, to be replaced with
thick snatches of weeds and garbage and little rats’ eyes, cracked
windows and shadows running to and from trouble.

Kor hid his Hovermutt in the corner of a yard
with a broken fence. Or rather a pigpen with a broken fence.