Archibald Lox and the Forgotten Crypt

by Darren Shan

  “The Diamonds,” Julia breathes, her voice coming out like a normal person’s for once. “We didn’t think they’d send a team.”

  “It’s not much of a team,” Pitina says, and it’s the brutal truth. Whereas the other gropsters all have the sheen of highly trained athletes, these look like ordinary men and women. There are even a few teenagers among them, blinking edgily, trying to stand tall and proud, but unable to disguise their nervousness.

  Diamond is a doomed realm, resting on the frail shoulders of its one remaining royal, the elderly King Lloyd. When he dies, the realm will be ripped apart and added to the mess of the Lost Zone. Most of its citizens have fled, to begin new lives elsewhere, but a few stayed, and someone must have scraped together the spine of a team to represent the falling realm. They couldn’t find thirty players, but seventeen have made the journey and intend to compete, even though they surely don’t stand a chance.

  There’s something incredibly sad about the sight of the people on the boat – they look tiny and vulnerable – yet at the same time I’m filled with admiration for them, as they clearly intend to go down fighting.

  “Do you want me to send them back through the tunnel?” Julia asks Pitina. “They shouldn’t have entered until you were finished.”

  Pitina shakes her head, and to my surprise there are tears in her eyes. “Let them come,” she croaks. “This is their moment, not mine, and they’re welcome to it.”

  The boat pulls up by its landing point and Julia hurries away to get to the turret before the players climb up. There are no stairs on the inland-facing sides of the turrets, just gentle ramps down to the heart of the island. She moves with a curious waddling motion when she runs, but gallops along at a fair old speed.

  Someone in the crowd starts to clap while the gropsters from Diamond are still on the stairs, and others quickly join in. The Diamonds look around with surprise, then carry on, walking with more confidence now. Julia is there to greet them when they get to the top, by which time the applause is deafening.

  “PEOPLE!” Julia shouts, and I can only just hear her. “YELL YOUR HEARTS OUT FOR THE HEROES OF DIAMOND!”

  Everyone roars as loudly as they can. Julia starts to introduce the players, but I don’t hear a single name, and I don’t think anyone else does either, because not even the giant-lunged Miss Vox can be heard over the cries of the crowd. Any other time, I think that would put her nose out of joint, but she doesn’t care today. For a short while, grop has been forgotten. These cheers have nothing to do with the Tourney. I don’t think they’re even for the Diamonds, really.

  This applause is for something greater. It’s for the desire to take part even when failure is assured. It’s for the refusal to accept defeat when the writing’s on the wall. It’s for the ability we all have to live proudly and fearlessly, even when the grim reaper is breathing down our necks and waiting to claim us for his own.

  This applause is for the unquenchable flame of the human spirit.

  This applause is for the battle that everyone can choose to fight.

  This applause, in a sphere of the dead, is for life.

  27

  There’s no royal from Diamond to give a speech, so when the last player has been introduced, Julia thanks everyone for coming and says she hopes they’ll all be as vocal when the games begin. “ESPECIALLY YOU TOPAZERS!” she concludes with a grizzly bear roar of a chuckle, and the locals loudly assure her of their full support.

  With the preliminaries out of the way, the teams drift down off the turrets, to mingle in the low-lying area of the island. I stick close to Inez, who doesn’t seem fazed by the crowd. She slips around people and groups, pausing every now and then to say hello to an old friend and quickly catch up. She never introduces me, but I don’t mind. I’m busy soaking up the sights and sounds, eyeing the gropsters from the different realms, listening to them speak and shout.

  I spot Cal at one point, with a few of the Diamonds, laughing heartily, swapping tales. He spent much of his life in Diamond, working for King Lloyd, so I suppose he still considers them his people, even though he identifies as a Sapphirite now. He looks happy, and they’re the same, able to temporarily forget about the dire plight of their realm.

  Someone taps my shoulder and I turn with a smile that quickly vanishes.

  It’s Pitina.

  “We meet again, Archibald Lox,” she says, making the greet.

  “It’s guh-good to suh-see you, your huh-highness,” I stutter, completing the greet with shaking hands.

  “You avoided me on our way here,” she says.

  “No,” I protest.

  “Yes,” she purrs, “but I understand why you might feel awkward in my presence, so I bear you no ill will.”

  “Really?” I frown.

  The queen arches an eyebrow. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Well... after what we did... delivering Ghita and swinging the vote...”

  “Ignore him, your majesty,” Inez says, kicking my shin as she smoothly joins the conversation. “Archie has forgotten that you were as worried about the princess as the rest of us.”

  “Many might not believe it,” Pitina murmurs, “but it’s true. Ghita’s like a little sister to me.”

  “Then why didn’t you try to stop Orlan and Argate from killing her?” I ask, and this time Inez kicks me so hard that I cry out with pain.

  “I don’t like to see people suffering,” Pitina says with an icy smile, “but I have to say he deserved that.”

  “Why?” I moan, taking a step away from Inez, tears in my eyes.

  “What proof have you that the killers targeted Ghita?” the queen asks.

  “They tried to kill Inez,” I reply.

  “That could have been for any of a number of reasons, couldn’t it?” the queen asks Inez.

  “Yes,” Inez says quietly. “I’m pretty sure it was because I was carrying Ghita, but I can’t say for certain.”

  “You should never level an accusation without proof,” Pitina says to me. “Orlan Stiletto and Argate Axe are dangerous men, but if you can’t present me with proof that they tried to kill Ghita, you should hold your tongue.”

  I gulp and wish I could sink into the ground. As I’m trying to think of something to say to calm the angry queen down, someone else taps my shoulder, and I find myself facing a young woman in a brilliant yellow dress, with a blue, icicle-shaped ornament in her pale yellow hair. She has a blunt, pasty face, with a nose too large for the rest of her features. She might not be judged pretty by most standards, but she’s smiling beautifully.

  “You’re Archibald Lox, if I’m not mistaken,” she says.

  “Yes,” I say, “but most people call me Archie.”

  “Then welcome to Topaz, Archie,” the woman says. “I’m Malina.”

  My eyes widen and my tongue freezes. This is the queen who’s hired us to kidnap Prince Hiroto, and I can’t think of anything to say to her. Luckily for me, she turns to Pitina to make the greet, which affords me a few seconds to gather my thoughts and regain control of myself.

  “I’m sorry you weren’t able to give your speech,” Malina says to Pitina. “I’d been looking forward to it.”

  “I don’t know why,” Pitina laughs. “It would have been the same old thing.”

  “I doubt it,” Malina says, then turns to Inez. “And you must be the camel.”

  “Inez Matryoshka,” Inez nods.

  “I was surprised when I heard you were travelling with the team,” the queen says.

  “Just here to see the sights and maybe pick up some jobs,” Inez says.

  Malina grunts. “I only counted twenty-six gropsters when Julia was introducing the team.”

  “Really?” Inez says, feigning ignorance.

  “I wonder where the other four could be hiding?” Malina purrs.

  “Where indeed?” Inez grins.

  “I sense a sting in your tail,” the Topazer queen says.

  “I haven’t a clue what you’re talk
ing about,” Inez says, then both of them laugh.

  “Will I see you at the soirée later?” Malina asks Pitina.

  “Of course,” Pitina says.

  “And you?” she asks Inez and me.

  “We’re not invited,” Inez says.

  “You are now,” Malina says.

  Inez looks startled and glances at Pitina.

  “You don’t have to check with me,” Pitina says. “This is Malina’s realm. She can invite whomever she pleases.”

  “But the soirée is for royals and nobles,” Inez says.

  “There’ll be a few others too,” Malina says. “I think you and Archie would prove entertaining additions. Whether my fellow royals approve or disapprove of your role in the vote in Sapphire, I’m sure they’d be keen to hear about your adventures.”

  “We wouldn’t enjoy that kind of attention,” Inez says, but I’ve spotted someone behind Malina. It’s Cindy. She casts a very slight nod at me, and I understand that she wants us to come to this sworay, whatever it is.

  “Actually, I’d really like to go,” I say, surprising Inez.

  “You want to go to the soirée?” she blinks.

  “I love a good soirée, me,” I beam.

  Inez stares at me as if I’ve been taken over by somebody else. Then she shrugs. “In that case, your majesty, we’d be delighted to accept.”

  “Wonderful,” Malina says, then takes Pitina by the elbow and leads her away to introduce her to the captain of the Topaz team.

  Inez is still staring at me.

  “What?” I smirk.

  “I didn’t think that sort of thing would appeal to you,” she says.

  “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” I sniff. Then I lean in and whisper, “What is a sworay?”

  “You don’t know?” she asks, startled.

  “I don’t even know how to spell it,” I laugh, then tell her about Cindy and the real reason I accepted Malina’s invitation.

  28

  While the rest of us are mingling, the coaches head towards tables that are being set up on one of the turrets. That’s where they’ll meet with the gropmeisters and register the players. I’m curious about the process, so I keep an eye on things.

  The gropmeisters proceed in single file up the ramp to the tables. There’s one from each realm, clad in robes similar to those that the players wear, and each travels with two people in normal clothes. They look very serious as they march up to take their seats.

  “They’re a glum looking bunch,” somebody says, and I find Olivia, the captain of the Sapphirites, standing next to me, staring at the turret nervously.

  “I thought you’d have to go up with the coaches,” I say, surprised to be singled out by the captain.

  “I will soon,” she says. “Every player has to be checked by the gropmeisters and their unravellers. They’ll examine us to ensure we haven’t been unfairly remoulded. If they find any cheats, they’ll kick them out, but also penalise the team.”

  I realise now why she’s nervous. “You’re worried that some of our players might have been remoulded.”

  Olivia nods. “We’ve run our own checks, but the gropmeisters use the very best unravellers. Sometimes a player can hide a sly remould from us, but gets found out when extra tests are conducted.”

  “Are the unravellers the people in the normal clothes?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Olivia says. “They’re specially trained. They won’t unravel any surface remoulds, just those that would give a player a physical advantage.”

  “So they won’t reveal a person’s real face if they’ve had their looks changed?” I ask, worrying about the disguised Hugo, although obviously the others have taken that into consideration long before now.

  “No,” Olivia says. “Lots of gropsters have their features tweaked, if they want to look handsome for the crowds or fierce to frighten their opponents. The gropmeisters don’t care about that.”

  Olivia drifts away from me but doesn’t mix with the others, prowling anxiously, waiting to be summoned. It’s a long wait. First the Rubicon captain gets called, and oversees the checks of his players, who are brought up one by one. Then the Emerald captain and her players go up. Then those from Pearl.

  Olivia draws up beside me again and snarls like a caged tiger. “I hate this. Why couldn’t they bring us all up at the same time?”

  “There wouldn’t be enough room,” I note.

  She grimaces, then laughs. “You’re right. I just wish we could launch into the matches. I don’t handle this side of the game very well.”

  The final Pearl player is cleared, then Olivia’s name is called.

  “At last,” she sighs, and hurries up the ramp.

  I watch with interest as our players go for their checks. A lot of people fall silent when the huge Cal heads for the turret. I hear a few people saying that someone that big must have been remoulded. I bet Olivia is cringing inside as the unravellers run him through the wringer, but he’s passed as normal and returns, smiling carelessly, never in any doubt that he’d get the green light.

  While there was a lot of interest when Cal went up, it’s nothing compared to what happens when Inez is summoned. She winks at me and says, “Back soon.” As she starts up the ramp, everyone stares at her, and I hear the rumour mill kick into life.

  “Who’s that?”

  “She’s not a gropster.”

  “Why have they called her?”

  When someone realises she’s a camel, word spreads swiftly.

  “Four gropsters are missing. Twenty-six have been checked. She must have four players inside her.”

  “That’s right. Julia only introduced twenty-six of the team earlier.”

  “Why are the Sapphirites hiding players?”

  “What are they trying to keep from us?”

  “Who the hell is in there?”

  I’m struggling not to laugh. It’s delicious, listening to the controversy rage while knowing the answers to the questions on everyone’s lips. Some people try to pump me for information – they also ask others in the team – but I pretend I don’t know anything about it.

  Up on the turret, a tent’s erected while Inez patiently waits to offload her cargo. Some of the other coaches are unhappy, and a couple from Ruby argue heatedly with the gropmeisters. A few of our coaches drag them away, and things turn nasty when one of the Rubes shouts an insult, only for Baba Jen to lose the plot and bite his leg. I can hear his howl from here as he leaps around and tries to shake her loose.

  It’s great entertainment. Even the Rubicons are amused, and although that doesn’t stop them complaining about us smuggling in gropsters, I can tell that they inwardly approve of the cunning plan and wish they’d thought of it themselves.

  The gropmeisters stay calm through the arguing and fighting, then lead Inez into the tent, accompanied by their unravellers. They conduct their tests, taking longer than they did on any of the other players, finally emerging to signal the all-clear and add the names of the four mystery players to their lists. The other coaches are free to study those names — they just can’t study the players, who are safely back inside Inez when she comes out and swaggers down the ramp.

  It takes Inez ages to wind her way back to me. She’s stopped by loads of people who want to ask who she’s sheltering. She says nothing, only shakes her head and waits for each interrogator to give up.

  “How did it go?” I whisper when she rejoins me.

  “Fine,” she says.

  “They didn’t find anything untoward?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I thought Baba Jen was going to gnaw off that coach’s leg.”

  Inez stifles a laugh. “They’re old friends, from back in the time when she lived in Ruby. They’ll patch it up later, over a few pints of ale and lemonade.”

  The understrength members of the Diamond team are checked and cleared, then the captain of the Topaz team is hailed, and the players go up to sustained applause from the locals. Like
the rest of the gropsters, they’re all passed.

  Everyone’s in high spirits as the gropmeisters descend. The fact that all of the players tested clean is viewed as a positive sign. Inez has told me that previous Tourneys were spoiled by the unravelling of remoulded players, which led to ill feelings among the supporters. This time the stage is set for a good, honest contest.

  Well, until Hugo, Inez and I kidnap the Topaz prince. When that happens, all hell will break loose. But that’s a worry for another day. For now I just soak up the good vibes and try not to think too much about the dark twists to come.

  29

  The crowd disperses once the registration has finished, and those of us on the teams are escorted to our living quarters. The players are taken first, as they’ll be staying somewhere different. Then escorts come for the backroom team and ask for numbers rather than names — since we weren’t registered, they don’t know who we are. They sweep among us, calling out for five members from Emerald or ten from Pearl.

  “Six from Sapphire,” a caramel-skinned, barrel-chested man with a long, frosty beard and ice-white hair calls, passing close to Inez and me.

  “We’ll join that one,” Inez says, raising a hand and stepping forward, as three others join us and the man with the beard looks for a sixth.

  “Hold on,” one of the other escorts – a suspicious-looking woman – says, casting a cold eye over Inez. “That’s the camel who went up the turret.”

  “What of it?” the man harrumphs.

  “She has gropsters inside her.”

  The man runs a hand through his beard. “Gropsters?” he says slowly.

  “Four of them,” the woman nods.

  “Is this true?” the man asks Inez.

  “Yes,” she says.

  “Which means...” the woman begins.

  “...she should be with the players,” the man concludes, nodding solemnly.

  “I never thought of that,” Inez says. “Now that you mention it, I suppose you’re right. My four need to be able to confer and train with the others. What a nuisance. Couldn’t you turn a blind eye?” She smiles sweetly at the bearded man, but he doesn’t return the smile.