Quest for the Sun (7 page)

My brain felt numb. It had all been for nothing. We might as well give up and head on home.

I stared blankly round the dark room, praying for inspiration. But there was just the computer, humming softly under its breath; Blue-bum's empty cage, its shrouded dome-shape reminding me of Q's plasma globe. The computer screen … but now the stars that had been so comforting seemed cold and mocking.
Nothing under the twin moons can do him harm …

Behind the screen I thought I caught a faint flicker of lightning as another storm gathered. Karazeel's demented voice echoed in my mind:
I have harnessed the power of skyfire … night and day are at my command, and soon the very galaxies will be in my control …

Then Kai's words, flat, defeated:
Nothing and no one in this world can overthrow King Karazeel …

‘Kai,' I said slowly. ‘What was it you just said?'

I was jolted out of sleep by a bull-like bellow that shook the walls of the tower. I leapt to my feet and the sound came again, a deep-throated roar that made the air tremble.

It was dawn, and the Mauler had woken.

It seemed twice as big as it was the day before. Pearl-coloured light reflected from the computer screen onto its glistening green-black hide. As I gawked at it, still half-asleep, it pumped itself up like a gigantic bellows and roared again, its mouth gaping like a cavern, its eyes fixed on us.

It lunged forward in a clumsy leap, its shackled leg dragging it sideways; righted itself, and leapt again. The ribbon of its tongue flickered, tasting the air; then slowly, crab-wise, it dragged itself as close as it could to our cage and crouched there, panting.

For once even Richard didn't have anything to say. He was huddled with the others at the back of the cage, eyes huge in white faces. I stumbled over to them, horribly conscious of the toad following every movement, terrified of setting it off into another leap. Squeezed between Rich and Jamie, hunkered down between the two girls and put an arm round each of them. ‘Listen up, guys,' I whispered. ‘Here's the plan …'

 

The elevator door sighed open. First to emerge was Evor, cracking his knuckles and leering. Next came Karazeel, his face smooth and composed. Newly drugged-up with potion, I guessed. His eyes flicked from Rich to Jamie; from Gen to Kenta … then to me. He gave a low, ironic bow.

Last came Kai in his Keeper's regalia. He avoided my eyes, crossing to the throne and taking up his position. The Mauler gave a series of coughing burps and shambled round to face him. It was clear it knew its master, and equally clear from the strings of drool dangling from its jaws that it was expecting to be fed.

‘Good morning, children. I trust you slept well.' No answer. ‘Not afraid, are we? No need, I assure you — the Mauler may
not be a tidy feeder, but it is invariably a rapid one. Now, who will be first? You would do well to remember the process will become slower as the edge is taken off his hunger …'

‘Me.' I'd hoped to sound grimly determined, but the word came out in a pathetic croak. I tried again. ‘I will.' My hand crept to my pocket, feeling for my knife — the Swiss army knife Q had given me. The blade was open and ready, cold under my fingers. Behind me, I heard Gen's breath catch in a sob.

‘Well, children? Do you not wish to bid farewell to your little friend? I beg your pardon: to his lordship Prince Zephyr, Lost Prince of the Wind, briefly found and soon to be lost once more … this time forever.'

‘My lord King.' It was Kai, his face expressionless. ‘I pray your gracious permission to speak.'

‘Later.
After.
Unleash the Mauler. Evor, the key.'

Evor hobbled forward, silver key at the ready.

‘But my lord,
after
will be too late.'

‘Do not presume upon my favour, Keeper. Now, Evor —'

‘Wait, your majesty! Last night I came to check upon the Mauler. The boy who calls himself Zephyr was awake. I tricked him into telling me things — things that will bring your lordship powers beyond your wildest dreams.'

Evor paused, the key halfway into the lock; glanced at the King for the signal to continue. Time stopped.

Zeel raised one hand the merest fraction, but enough. He inclined his head towards Kai, his voice menacing and satin-smooth. ‘Well?'

Kai was looking anywhere but at me. ‘He spoke of a great wizard, a lord of creation named Q, by whose power the world of Karazan was made. He told of a magical globe which resides in the other world — the source of skyfire itself.'

There was a strangled gasp behind me. Turning, I saw Kenta's face, chalk-white and blank with shock. Beside me, Richard growled, ‘Adam, you fool! I
told
you not to trust him!' His eyes were blazing with disbelief.

Karazeel took one look at the stunned denial on the others' faces and was on his feet in a flash and over at the cage. A hand like steel twisted into my collar. One jerk, and my face was mashed against the bars, Karazeel's eyes a hair's breadth from my own. ‘So,' he hissed, ‘the source of skyfire lies in your world? Does the Keeper speak truth?'

‘No, he's lying —' I choked.

‘Yes!'
The mad light was back in his eyes. ‘You will take me to it! You will deliver the skyfire into my hands and lead me to the creator! I will devour his heart and drink his blood, and his power will be mine. And
you
…' a cruel smile twisted his lips, and he pointed at the four children staring aghast, ‘you will remain here as hostage. Evor and the Mauler will guard you.'

Jamie bit his lip. ‘Don't feel bad, Adam,' he began loyally. ‘It wasn't your fault. You … you …' Then his face crumpled and he burst into hiccupping sobs. Kenta threw her arms round him, glaring daggers at me over his head.

Richard shook his head helplessly, shrugged, and turned away, his face like stone.

‘Kai,' hissed Gen, ‘you are a slimy
toad!
' She turned away and buried her face in her hands.

None of them saw Kai shift the trident into his sword-hand and flick me an almost invisible wink.

 

Evor dragged me through the tiny door struggling and cursing, but inside I was jubilant. I couldn't believe how well the plan had worked. I felt bad about fooling the others, but there was no way they could have faked the shock on their faces … and that had been the clincher for Karazeel.

Protected by the potion of immortality, nothing under the twin moons of Karazan could do him harm … but things would be different in our world, or so I hoped. And that's where he was ‘forcing' me to take him. I was banking on him being sandbagged by the transition, the same as I always was — but I was expecting it, and I'd be ready.

I had my pocket knife. It would be one on one.

As for the others — judging by the look on Rich's face he'd be more than a match for Evor. The Mauler was still chained to the wall, and likely to stay that way.

And Kai — I stifled a grin — Kai was on our side, just as he'd always been.

Evor dragged me over to the golden pedestal. The grin was gone; my heart was a swelling throb in my throat, almost choking me. What if Hannah was in the computer room? What if Evor's modification to the VRE Interface didn't work and Karazeel got stuck? What if despite the fact that he was from Karazan like me he didn't find the transition as tough as I did … what if he jumped me at Quested Court and went on the rampage? What if I'd made a stupid mistake?

Too bad. It's done. From here on in, it's all down to you, Zephyr. And you'll only get one shot — so quit worrying and do your best.

The giant screen was a rippled expanse of pink-edged cloud. Early morning. What time would it be at Quested Court? I'd soon find out. I made one last pretence at trying to escape Evor's grip, and felt my boot connect with his bony shin with a satisfying crack. ‘Any more trouble from you,' he hissed, ‘and I will feed the fat one to the Mauler. You do not seem to understand that the welfare of your friends depends upon your cooperation,
Prince Zephyr.
'

Karazeel's icy hand clamped on the back of my neck — and it was only then I realised I was still wearing my backpack. I'd unpacked it earlier to find the knife and it was practically empty; I must have shrugged it on automatically, as I did at the start of any journey. Some journey, I thought grimly.

I stared down at the keyboard. It was laid out like a normal keyboard but set in solid gold, the keys cushion-cut gems: the letter-keys diamonds as clear as water, the numbers sparkling emeralds, the function keys what I guessed must be sapphires. Four keys stood out from the rest, flawless rubies: Alt. Control. Q. And Delete. I positioned my fingers carefully. Double-checked. I wouldn't want to press Delete by mistake.

Karazeel breathed in my ear: ‘Remember, dear nephew: no tricks.' I didn't trust myself to speak. Just closed my eyes and pressed.

I'd done it twice before, but it was worse than I remembered — way worse. Like being in a car wreck in pitch dark without a seatbelt … or a human pinball in a real-life game of Galactic Starburst. I rode it out curled like a foetus, breath held, eyes screwed shut.

At last I felt it: the rushing-water rising that meant it was almost over. Gasping for breath in the gluey air, battered and disoriented, I struggled to my feet, staggering and falling against the corner of a table, staring round for Karazeel. Punch-drunk from the transition, my brain registered fragmented images, a slide-show in shades of grey.

Night, pale moonlight slanting through the window. The room deserted, computers silent, the globe under its cover in the corner; the door open; the sleeping house beyond. No Karazeel.

I needed to make the most of every second. Stumbling to the corner I pulled the black cloth off the plasma globe. I could
throw it over Karazeel, blind him — then I thought of turning it on, as a distraction. I flicked the switch. Purple-blue tendrils of lightning sprang to life in the glass sphere, twisting and writhing as if they were searching for a way out. For a moment I was mesmerised. I longed to touch it, to feel the cool tingle of the dancing strands under my fingers. The plasma globe was harmless, everyone knew that …

To most people, but not to me. And suddenly, like another jigsaw-puzzle piece falling into place, I realised why.

As I hesitated beside the globe there was a change in the air behind me. Not a noise; a presence where before there'd been nothing. I shuffled into the shadow of the doorway as a shape materialised out of the darkness, sprawled over the computer table. There'd be no better chance. He was face-down, groaning, his back a perfect target.

Flick the cloth over his head — and strike.

My hands were shaking, my chest filled with sick hollowness that made it hard to breathe. There was no sign of the red haze now, nothing to mask what I was about to do, only emptiness. I groped in my pocket for the knife, my hand shaking and slick with sweat. Tightened my fingers round it, yanked it out. It caught on something — pain stabbed up my arm and the knife was falling, spinning in slow motion onto the floor and under a table. My hand was on fire. I stared at the welling blackness at the base of my fingers, dripping into the shadows at my feet.

Time turned treacle-slow — but not slow enough.

In a single lithe movement Karazeel was on his feet, spinning to take in the room, me, the open door … the globe. He stared; gave a single, shuddering sigh. For an instant the wavering strands of plasma were reflected in his eyes like fluorescent blue veins; then he turned from me and advanced on it, hands outstretched.

This was it — my last chance, my only chance.
I had to do it.
I fell to my knees, scrabbling desperately for the knife. It was nowhere. I had no time. I had to do something — fast. The
globe would hold him, but not for long. Then he'd be through the door and after Q.

I couldn't let it happen. I lurched to my feet, grabbed the heavy crystal pitcher of water from the nearest table.
Yes
. It would be enough to knock him cold while I ran for help or found the knife. I took two swift strides forward …

What happened next was encased in a fragile soap-bubble of time, stretching thinner and thinner in a moment that seemed to last forever. Karazeel, crouched like a vulture over the dancing electric tendrils of the plasma globe. Me, creeping nearer, jug poised.

A sudden shriek from the dark hallway — a trailing feral screech that froze me where I stood. A skittering rush — then something knocked against my shins and bounced away … and something else, swift as thought, smashed into the back of my knees and sent me flying.

Words seeded in my brain —
Bluebell — Tiger Lily — tag
and I was falling forwards clutching the jug as its contents curved in a shimmering arc to shatter over Karazeel and the plasma globe.