Janelle hit Joey on the shoulder. “You had to mention Lord of the Rings. DeMayne’s got Mordor on the brain, thanks to you.”
“Don’t blame yourselves,” Manchester said.
“I wasn’t,” Janelle said. “I was blaming Joey.”
Manchester allowed himself a slight smile. “It’s not Joey’s fault. This is how DeMayne sees the world. Full of chaos, madness, and mindless barbarians. This is how he justifies his selfishness with magical objects. He sees himself as the noble one, holding the line against a world that would destroy itself if given the chance. That’s why he hoards his secret knowledge, and that’s where he keeps it. The Memory Palace.” Manchester pointed to the castle on the hill. “If you want to learn what happened a thousand years ago… the nature of the magic that keeps the Imagine Nation hidden, and how to break the spell, that’s where you’ll find your answers. It’s the only place you’ll find them.”
Everyone looked across the sea of enemies between them and the Memory Palace. There was no way through the horde. It was an impossible journey, even for them.
“Lucky for you, I know a shortcut.”
Manchester turned on his heel and started down a mountain path that wound around the corner and out of sight. Joey and the others hurried after him. When they caught up with him, they found him standing on a narrow, natural stone bridge that ran out across a chasm between two peaks.
“What is this?” Joey asked.
“Another road.” Manchester presented a wooden door built into the mountainside at the far end of the bridge.
He crossed the bridge without a care in the world, stopping at the door. As before, Joey and his friends had no choice but to follow. The teeming masses of orcs below them were oblivious to their presence, but it was a nerve-racking journey even if no one spotted them. One way or the other, falling off the bridge meant certain death, and there was nothing to guard against a fatal misstep. There was no railing to hold on to. The bridge was a simple rock formation connecting two mountain peaks, and in some places, it was no wider than a balance beam. The wind tortured Joey as he inched forward, refusing to look down and hoping the orcs wouldn’t look up. He was last in line to the door, and he hesitated before using it. As much as he hated being on the bridge, he couldn’t shake the feeling they were walking into a trap.
“It’s perfectly safe, I assure you,” Manchester said, noting his apprehension. “Just keep moving forward.”
Joey didn’t exactly check his suspicions at the door, but he did go through it. After all, if Manchester wanted to kill them, there were less complicated ways to do it. He passed through complete darkness. Joey called out for his friends but received no reply. There was no sound at all and no light at the end of the tunnel to tell him if the passage was two feet long or two hundred. Joey was scared, but he kept moving ahead. His faith was rewarded as he emerged from the tunnel deep inside the walled city on the far mountaintop. Looking up, he felt a rush of energy. The Memory Palace on the hill was suddenly within walking distance, and the orcs were nowhere in sight. Everyone else, however, was. Joey’s friends were elated, looking around with wide eyes full of wonder.
“How did we get here so fast?” Janelle asked. “This place was miles away.”
Manchester smiled as he came through the door behind Joey. “Normal rules don’t apply here. Everything is just a thought away. Remember that.”
Joey wandered forward as if in a dream, trying to make sense of what he saw. The city was not medieval or Tolkienesque like everything else in DeMayne’s head. Instead, it looked more like Main Street USA from Disney World. Even more so because of the picturesque castle in the distance. Joey and his friends were standing in an idealized vision of a turn-of-the-century American town. The previous century, to be specific. The streets were full of Victorian buildings with ornate molding, striped awnings, and inviting storefronts. They had old-timey names like the Confectionary Sweet Shoppe, the Gentleman’s Haberdashery, and the Beauty Emporium. The town was quiet, peaceful, and overflowing with nostalgia. A handful of cars parked on the street were all shiny new Model T Fords, and smiling people were out for an evening stroll dressed to the nines. The men wore suits and ties with starched collars and skimmer hats. The women wore big poufy dresses with gloves that went up to their elbows. The bright colors of everyone’s clothing complemented the vibrant storefronts as if a costume designer and set designer had collaborated on the palette.
“I didn’t see this coming,” Leanora said.
“The soul of magic is surprise,” Manchester told her. “You have to expect the unexpected at all times.”
Manchester took on the role of tour guide, leading the group into town and pointing out his favorite shops along the way. People tipped their caps to him and said good evening as they passed by on the sidewalk. Manchester was very polite with everyone in return. No one seemed to notice or care that he was escorting a group of children who were dressed for battle and armed with swords. The streetlights illuminated the road ahead like a parade route, and they followed it to a charming square at the center of town. It was bordered on one side by public buildings like the city hall, a post office, and a library. The other side boasted a hotel, a restaurant, and a large theater reminiscent of the Majestic. Beyond the square was a gated park with a pond, lush greenery, and of course, the Memory Palace. The fairy-tale castle was incongruous with the rest of the town but somehow still seemed to belong.
“You want to talk about unexpected,” Joey said. “This place is like a town from an old movie or musical. Part of me is waiting for these people to do a big song and dance number.”
“Beats getting eaten by goblins,” Shazad said.
Joey turned. “I thought they were orcs.”
“What’s the difference?” asked Janelle.
“Orcs are more…” Joey paused, searching for an explanation. “You know, I’m not really sure.”
“It doesn’t matter. You won’t find orcs or goblins here.” Manchester motioned toward the park. “Shall we?” They were about to go in when a man called out behind them.
“What are you doing?”
They turned to see a handsome young couple standing a few feet away. “You can’t go in there,” the man warned the group. “No one goes into the park.”
“It’s not safe,” added the woman on his arm. She put a hand up to hide her mouth. “There’s magic in there,” she whispered as if she were saying something scandalous.
“It’s all right,” Leanora told them. “We’ll be fine.”
“Ah, ah, ah…” A police officer came in to join the conversation. “We have rules in this town, young lady.” He tapped a PARK CLOSED sign with his billy club. “That’s for your protection. You’re better off out here.”
The officer was a pleasant-looking fellow with a bushy mustache and a friendly smile, but Joey smelled trouble. The way he twirled his nightstick made him uncomfortable. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like it here?” the policeman asked, picking up on the tension.
“Of course they do,” Ledger DeMayne said, making an appearance at last. He appeared out of nowhere, wearing a bright blue suit with a white sash that read MAYOR. Somehow, he made it look good instead of ridiculous. Typical DeMayne. He always looked good. “What’s not to like?” he asked. “This is a world of peace and harmony. You should know, this is what you give up when you let magic run wild.”
The police officer and the young couple agreed enthusiastically.
“He’s right.”
“He’s absolutely right.”
“Couldn’t be more right!”
DeMayne took a moment to say hello and shake their hands. The townspeople were thrilled to see him. DeMayne was a celebrity in his own mind, fawning all over himself. Joey thought the level of ego on display was incredible.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Joey replied. “This town is you to a tee. You keep a little bit of magic locked up for your own personal use.” He paused, pointing to the castle in the
park. “And the rest of it you keep sealed off, outside of everyone’s reach.” Joey pointed to the border wall at the edge of town. “And you do it all for the greater good.”
Joey’s sarcasm was palpable. DeMayne huffed. “You may not like it, but that arrangement worked out very well for a very long time.”
“For very few people,” Leanora said.
“I don’t see anyone here complaining.” DeMayne gestured to the picture-perfect town he had created in his mind. A crowd of supporters had gathered outside the park entrance to rally around their mayor.
“You’re delusional,” Janelle said. “This place… This is a fantasy. The real world isn’t like this. It’s never been like this. Even in ‘the good old days,’ this kind of life didn’t exist for everyone. Especially for people like me. And soon it won’t exist for anyone. Today we’ve got climate change, wildfires, global pandemics—”
“And you think waving a magic wand can make all that go away?” DeMayne interrupted. “Oh, wait. I forgot, you’re afraid to do that. Your solution is to introduce magic into all that chaos.” DeMayne wagged a finger at the children. “This isn’t going to work the way you think it is. You’re pouring gasoline on the wildfire.”
“It’s already done,” Shazad said. “Are we taking a risk by releasing magic back into the world? Of course. But the greater risk is to do nothing.”
“We’re not going to make it as a planet if things keep going the way they are,” Joey agreed. “Someone’s got to step up and save the world.”
“And change it,” Janelle added.
DeMayne sighed. “It’s no use talking to you. You won’t listen to reason.”
“Sure they will,” Manchester said. “Just not your reasons. They’re not the audience you’re used to seeing, Ledger. You can’t trick them. They know your game, and they’re going to teach everyone to play, because the chance to live in a world where anything is possible is worth fighting for. We’re here to fight that battle, and I stand with them.”
Manchester’s blade flew out, slashing through DeMayne’s torso before anyone had a chance to blink. The crowd of people gasped and turned away as he burst into a cloud of black smoke.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last. The plume of smoke swirled around and quickly re-formed, consolidating itself back into the figure of Ledger DeMayne. Once he was whole again, he stared at Manchester, dressing him down with his eyes like a teacher fed up with an unruly student. “I never liked you.”
Manchester stared back at him. “The feeling was mutual.”
The townspeople closed ranks behind their leader. They weren’t orcs, but they had all the makings of an angry mob and looked oddly threatening in their stately attire.
“I think it’s time to get out of here,” Joey told his friends, backing away from the crowd toward the park.
“Not so fast,” DeMayne said. “You came here to fight for a better world. I’d hate to deny you that opportunity.” He turned to his people with a nonchalant wave, as if he were telling his butler to clear away his dinner plate. “Kill them.”
8 The Memory Palace
“Into the park! Now!” Grayson Manchester shouted.
Joey and his friends did as they were told and ran inside. Manchester threw the wrought-iron gate shut behind them with one hand and swung his sword out with the other. A series of pops erupted like a string of firecrackers, followed by the metallic clang of the gate slamming into place.
Everyone stopped when they heard it. Manchester had locked the gate with himself on the wrong side. “What about you?” Leanora called out.
“Don’t worry about me!” he said. “Get to the castle.”
Swinging two swords, he spun around, turning more well-dressed assailants into clouds of vapor.
“Hurry!”
Joey and the others took off running. I owe that guy an apology, Joey thought to himself, looking back as the residents of DeMayne’s pretty little town screamed hateful things and rattled the gate, trying to climb over it. Manchester cut them down and held the crowd back—for a time. He was one man against dozens and dozens. Smoke filled the air as he fought, and he was lost in the haze, his fate unknown.
Ledger DeMayne, on the other hand, was everywhere at once. As Joey, Janelle, Shazad, and Leanora raced through the park, they passed him several times. First he was sitting on a bench. Then they rounded a corner, and he was leaning on a tree. Wherever they went, there he was. “I’m curious what good you think running is going to do?” he asked casually. “You think you’re any safer in here?”
His laughter filled the air, chasing them deeper into the park. They fled as fast as they could, fully expecting to see DeMayne again up ahead. He didn’t reappear, but Joey felt his presence everywhere. They ran down a garden path, bordered by hearty flower beds, manicured shrubberies, and strong old trees. They sprinted around a tranquil pond and over an old stone bridge. It was a gorgeous evening, filled with moonlight and fireflies, but everything about the park was tainted. It was too perfect, much like the town and DeMayne himself. Joey got the sense that if he were somehow able to peel back the artificial, attractive top layer, he’d find something horrible lurking underneath the surface. With that in mind, the scenic park was no better than the endless fields of orcs. Joey decided he didn’t want to be there anymore. He called out for Hypnova, but the only reply was more laughter from DeMayne. “I’m sorry, Hypnova’s not available right now. It’s just us, boys and girls.”
Joey whirled around, looking to see where DeMayne was this time. There was no sign of him. Nothing but a disembodied voice taunting them from somewhere beyond the trees. We’re in too deep, Joey thought. She can’t see us.
For the first time, he worried they were already trapped in DeMayne’s mind with no chance of escape. Even if he and his friends reached the castle and found DeMayne’s lost memories, how were they supposed to get back out? They couldn’t go back the way they came. Grayson Manchester probably could have guided them back to safety, but he was gone, and the odds of seeing him again were not looking good.
They came to a fork in the road with two trails that led in opposite directions, each disappearing around a bend. The Memory Palace was just beyond the trees, but they had no way of knowing which path to choose. “Which way do we go?” Janelle asked.
“You think it matters?” Joey wondered. “DeMayne controls everything here. Who’s to says he’s even going to let us reach the castle?”
“He’s toying with us,” Shazad agreed.
Ever the fighter, Leanora put a hand on the hilt of her sword. “Let’s have it out, then. I’m tired of running.”
A shadow moved behind the trees. Joey heard the rustling of leaves and footfalls on grass. The noise was barely audible, but it was enough to let him know someone was out there. It turned out to be several someones, as a company of elves stepped into view. They had flaxen hair and smooth, beautiful features and wore ornate armor. No one said anything. The elven warriors just looked at Joey and his friends with cold eyes and unsmiling faces.
Janelle started down the path on the right, pulling Leanora with her. “I think running is good. Let’s run.”
Leanora didn’t like it, but she was forced to agree. She lowered her sword and went along with Janelle. Everyone bolted, with Joey and Shazad acting as the rear guard. They covered the others with their shields as the elves fired arrows at them. The path wound around a hairpin turn that momentarily took them out of firing range, but it also led away from the palace. Everyone realized they were going the wrong way, but they couldn’t double back. The way behind them was blocked with elves. Soon the trees were full of them too. They were everywhere Joey looked, and there was nowhere left to run. The trail dead-ended in a courtyard garden with a statue of DeMayne in the center. The man himself stepped out from behind it.
“You went the wrong way,” he gloated as the elves surrounded them.
“Was there a right way?” Joey asked.
“Not really.”
&
nbsp; DeMayne gave a nod, and the elves advanced, ready to finish off Joey and his friends. They were nearly within striking distance when, out of nowhere, Grayson Manchester came to the rescue once again. He was scratched up and bloodied from battle, but he was as fierce as ever as he threw himself at the elves. “Not again,” DeMayne groaned. He balled a fist and cast his eyes upward as Manchester spun his swords around like a tornado of death. He was completely outnumbered and the elves were gifted warriors, but they were no match for him. Manchester was like a dancer, moving to music only he could hear. “I can’t get rid of this guy,” DeMayne complained.
“I definitely owe him an apology,” Joey said, marveling at Manchester’s fighting prowess.
“I’ll settle for a little help!” Manchester called out. “There’s a reason I gave you those swords, you know!”
“Right!” Leanora drew her sword and ran into battle. Joey, Shazad, and Janelle were right behind her. Joey had never been in a fight like this before, but he picked it up quickly. Everyone did. He and his friends were nowhere near Grayson Manchester’s skill level, but they held their own in the melee, turning the attacking elves into clouds of smoke. The sound of swords clashing and elves popping out of existence rang out as they fought back.
“Anyone else notice how good we are at this?” Shazad asked as he plunged a sword into an elf, reducing it to a misty vapor.
“That’s because you’re getting in his head now—figuratively,” Manchester explained. “You shouldn’t have lasted this long, with or without my help, but the more worried about you DeMayne becomes, the stronger you get.”
“You’re right!” Joey said, hacking away with his sword. “I’m not tired anymore.”
“I never get tired here,” Manchester said. “Look at me—I’m a fighting machine! That’s not who I was in real life, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is how he sees me. I’m someone who beat him at his own game, and he can’t get over it. The question is, how does he see the four of you?”
The New World Page 9