Keys to the Demon Prison

Page 23

He had not slept well in the dungeon. For days he had dozed in odd stretches, more an irregular series of naps than any normal slumber.
At the moment, if he knew it was morning, he felt awake enough to get up. He could also probably fall back to sleep if he tried. He considered calling Bracken with the
coin, but decided he should wait rather than risk rousing the unicorn for a trivial concern.
The door to his cell opened without warning. He heard no footsteps approach, no key rattle in the lock. By the time he sat up, the door had banged shut.
"On your feet," a harsh voice called through the peephole in a loud whisper. "Have a look."
Seth jumped out of bed and hurried to the door. He pushed against it but it wouldn't budge. Beside the door sat a canvas sack. Seth pressed his face to the peephole, looking up and down the hall as best he could. Dim and silent, the only movement in the corridor came from shadows jittering in the wavering torchlight.
Returning to his cot, Seth retrieved his coin from under one of the legs. Running a finger clockwise along the edge caused it to start glowing. Coin in hand, Seth returned to the sack. He could hardly believe his eyes when he looked inside and beheld a copper teapot shaped like a cat and a narrow, segmented platinum cylinder set with precious stones. Along with a handwritten note and a cube of walrus butter, the shabby sack contained the Translocator and the Sands of Sanctity!
This had to be a trick. Still, he grabbed the note and started reading hastily.
Take these artifacts and escape from Living Mirage at once. Just twist the center of the Translocator and think of home. An attempt to rescue you has failed, and these were the only artifacts I managed to pilfer. Time is short. Leave immediately. Take nobody. Thanks to your time in the dungeon, you can help lead rescues later. Everything depends on you leaving immediately with these items.
I am the last spy the Knights have within the Society. I will contact you soon. Do not delay. The note was unsigned.
Why was the Translocator here? Something must have gone terribly wrong. Could this be a trap? What kind of trap would grant him access to anywhere he wanted to go? What kind of trap would give away two of the artifacts essential for the Society to accomplish their objectives?
He popped the walrus butter in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Maybe the artifacts were fake. But what would be the point of that? They sure looked authentic.
Rereading, he tried to process the message. There had been a rescue attempt, but it had failed. Who would have participated? Trask? Tanu? Whoever had been captured would need his help. But right now he didn't even know where to start looking.
Should he follow the advice in the note and teleport straight home to Fablehaven? What about his friends? He pressed his thumb against the griffin on the glowing coin. "Bracken," he whispered.
What is it, Seth? The answer came swiftly. He doubted Bracken had been asleep.
"I have our ticket out of here. Somebody just slipped me the Translocator."
Are you serious?
"Where are you?"
In my cell.
Seth had not yet visited his cell. "Have I been near there?"
Not really. They keep me down deep.
"The Translocator came with a note. It said I should escape immediately. How long would it take you to get someplace I've been?"
At least ten minutes. That's too long. Obey the note. I've gotten word that there has been some sort of disturbance here tonight. A bunch of people captured. You should get out of here while you can. If you have the Translocator, you can come back for me anytime.
"Be in my cell tomorrow at midnight. I'll be back, I promise."
Just take the coin with you. It should work even over great distances. We can devise a plan. "Gotcha. See you soon." Good luck.
Seth heard many heavy footsteps running down the corridor. Had he ever heard guards rushing in the dungeon? Not that he could recall. Heart pounding, Seth slid a finger counterclockwise along the edge of the coin, then slipped it into his pocket. He pocketed the note as well. Tucking the teapot under one arm, he grabbed the Translocator.
If he pictured Fablehaven, and twisted, he would be home. But what about Maddox? He pictured Maddox's cell and twisted. For an instant, Seth felt like he was folding into himself, shrinking down to a tiny point. Then he was standing in Maddox's cell. His friend was not there.
"Bad time to go exploring, Maddox," Seth muttered to the empty cot. He consoled himself that when he made plans with Bracken, he would figure out how to save Maddox and the others as well.
As he prepared to twist the Translocator again and return to Fablehaven, a realization stopped him. He had been to the Sphinx's office. He knew right where the Oculus was sitting, knew the location of the secret compartment that held the Font of Immortality. What if he returned to Fablehaven with all of the lost artifacts?
Mind racing, Seth tried to weigh the pros and cons objectively. If he went straight to Fablehaven, they would have three of the five artifacts. But once the Sphinx knew Seth had escaped, he would certainly relocate the artifacts Seth had seen in his office. If Seth went directly to the Sphinx's office, he might win the war with one fell swoop. Without the Oculus, the Sphinx would lose his biggest advantage. And without the Font of Immortality, he would be dead within a week.
Of course, if Seth got caught, all would be lost. But how could he get caught? If somebody was in the office, he would teleport right out.
Seth pictured the office where he had conversed with the Sphinx and twisted the Translocator. To his relief, the office was empty. He quickly observed that the Oculus no longer rested on the handsome desk. Crossing to the desk, he hastily scrabbled through the wooden drawers, but found no multifaceted crystal. Turning, Seth tore aside a tapestry, triggered the catch he had seen the Sphinx use, and tugged open the hidden cupboard in the wall. Empty.
At that moment, the Sphinx stormed into the room. Recognizing Seth, he stopped short in genuine astonishment. With the door at the far end of the office, forty feet, two dozen cushions, and a few gauzy veils separated them. The Sphinx's gaze flicked down to the Translocator. He pointed at Seth, outrage distorting his features. "Put that down," he roared. "Seth, you don't--"
Seth twisted the Translocator, and the Sphinx disappeared. After a momentary folding sensation, Seth stood on the roof of his elementary school. He had climbed up there once on a dare, and afterwards had used it as a place to escape when he wanted to be alone and think. For some reason, it was the first place that had sprung to mind.
It was a calm, cool evening. The sun had recently set, painting the cloudy horizon with warm, vivid colors. Seth sat down, his hands shaking. Nobody could have anticipated that he would receive the Translocator, and even if they did, nobody would guess that he would come here. It was hard to believe, but for the moment, he was actually safe.
Seth had never seen the Sphinx lose his façade of calm control. The Sphinx had entered the room as if aware of an intruder, but seemed shocked when he saw it was Seth. He supposed that made sense. If the Sphinx had just captured the Translocator, he had probably been off celebrating his victory. It must have blown his mind to find Seth in his office with two of the artifacts!
A pebble sat on the roof near his foot. Seth picked it up and tossed it off the edge, hearing it clack as it hit the pavement below. His next step should be to return to Fablehaven. Even if Tanu and some of them had been captured during the failed rescue, surely Grandma and Grandpa were still there, and probably Kendra.
A single concern prevented Seth from teleporting immediately to the house at Fablehaven. Tracing a finger along the copper teapot, Seth considered his commitment to Graulas. He could clearly picture the old demon languishing in agony, hoping for some way to reduce the anguish of his impending death. Seth had never witnessed such extreme suffering. With the Translocator, he could easily pop in and heal the demon before returning the artifacts to the house. As far as Seth knew, Graulas could already be dead, or he could presently be right at the brink of death. If he didn't heal Graulas now, Seth expected Grandpa would forbid him from doing so later.
Seth had promised the demon he would heal him. Graulas had no other hope for aid. He might have lived an evil life, but the demon had helped Seth multiple times.
Seth fingered the Translocator. Could this be a bad move? What if Graulas turned on him? Of course, even in his weakened state, the demon could have killed Seth upon any of his previous visits. If Seth healed him, Graulas would probably be more grateful than ever. Maybe the cunning demon could suggest strategies to stop the Sphinx, or provide insight about Nagi Luna. After a dusting from the Sands of Sanctity, the demon would still be old and dying, but curing the disease would reduce the pain and maybe buy Graulas a little extra time. And Seth would keep the Translocator handy. If all else failed, he could always teleport away.
Seth hesitated. He would prefer to take this action with permission from Grandpa Sorenson, but he felt certain Grandpa would never agree to it. Grandma and Grandpa hated demons. And they would worry too much about his safety. Seth scratched his arm. As long as he acted before returning home, he would not really be disobeying a direct request. Sometimes it was easier to get forgiveness than permission.
Envisioning the cave where Graulas lived, Seth twisted the Translocator. The stench of putrefying flesh hit him like a physical blow. Gagging, Seth covered his nose with one hand. The demon sprawled on the floor, flies buzzing around his many weeping sores. His wheezy breathing came quick and shallow, like that of a panting dog.
Seth slid the Translocator into his pocket. "Can you hear me, Graulas?"
Grunting, the demon raised his head, festering eyes squinting in not quite the right direction. "Seth?"
"I brought the Sands of Sanctity," Seth announced.
"The pain ..." Graulas moaned through cracked lips, his voice trailing off.
"Hang on, I'm here to heal you." Striding forward, Seth upended the teapot over the dying demon. Golden sand poured out, snapping and hissing like water on a hot griddle as it contacted the inflamed flesh. Acrid fumes rose from the pathetic, bloated form.
Pacing and swinging the teapot, Seth dusted the limitless supply of sand all over the demon until the sizzling smoke subsided.
"Oh-ho," Graulas said, sitting up, the tone of his voice deeper and richer than Seth had ever heard. In place of infected skin, short gray fur covered his arms. The drooping wattles had vanished from his face, leaving him with the head of a ram to match his curled horns. His misshapen body had become symmetrical, and now appeared muscular rather than lumpy. He stretched his thick arms forward, examining them. "Oh-ho-ho-ho!" he laughed exultantly.
"Feeling better?" Seth asked.
Graulas pounced at him, seized a shoulder with a hairy hand, and hoisted Seth off the ground effortlessly. Before Seth could react, the demon quickly tore the Translocator from his pocket, then dropped him on a pile of rubble. Landing roughly, Seth lost hold of the teapot, and the demon snatched it up. From his supine position, Seth stared up at the broad, bestial figure towering over him.
"Honestly?" Graulas rumbled. "This is the best I've ever felt." His rejuvenated voice had more growl to it than before.
"What are you doing?" Seth cried. His elbows were bleeding, and his back ached where a wooden knob had jabbed it.
"Many things, now, many things, thanks to you." The demon flung sand from the teapot over Seth, and his injuries vanished. "After all of these years, against all odds, I am now free! She was right. She may not be utterly sane, but she was right."
"Who was right?"
"Nagi Luna."
It took Seth a moment to find words. "You know her?"
"She contacted me using the Oculus," Graulas said. "She has not yet held it herself, but she can borrow some of its power when her captor uses it. Which is often. She harbored hopes of an opportunity like this for a long while, but only felt certain after she met you."
"What have I done?" Seth mouthed.
The demon grinned better than any actual ram could. "You still don't fully understand. Of course you don't, or this would never have happened. Seth, this disease has plagued me for thousands of years. It is what slowly ruined me. The sickness was my prison much more than this cave. Only the Sands of Sanctity could have healed me. I am old, yes, but now I am far from dying."
"And you have the Translocator."
"You begin to see. This area was designed to hold me in my weakened, diseased state. Now that I'm whole, I could probably defeat the barriers that contain me. But thanks to your thoughtful tribute, that will not be necessary."
Seth groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "Why am I so stupid?"
"Not the common breed of stupidity," the demon corrected. "You're too trusting. Too independent. Too good of a friend, even to one who is by nature your enemy. These attributes were used against you."
"What happens now?"
"I will acquire the Chronometer and return to Living Mirage. I have been there before, you see, centuries ago. And at the end of his long years of scheming, the Sphinx will lose control of his endeavor. Before long, the demons of Zzyzx will be free according to my terms."
Seth still felt off balance. "Wait--wasn't the Sphinx behind this trick?"
"Certainly not. Use your intellect. All the Sphinx needed to do was use the Translocator to collect the Chronometer. Why give it to you and risk losing it? Mirav the wizard left the artifacts in your cell, under strict orders from Nagi Luna. She communicates with him through the Oculus as well. Since the gambit paid off, I will go to Living Mirage in my full strength, free Nagi Luna, and take leadership of this endeavor. Tonight you have ushered in an age of demonic rule!"