by Bryan Chick
“As Kavita moved across the quarry, the workers stopped their efforts to stare. One worker ran up, seized her wrist, and dragged her away to the north side of the pyramid, where a regal man stood dressed in long white robes and attended by servants. Seeing Kavita, the man paled with disbelief, then took her away.”
Mr. Darby paused and shifted in his seat. Behind him the fountain sprayed, sending thin clouds of mist into the air. “Kavita was taken to a hut in a nearby village. There, she waited. Once the sun had made way for the stars to shine, a man entered. Kavita could tell by his flashy garb and stiff posture that he was an important person—a king to the others. History tells us now that King Khufu was his name. Khufu pointed to the sky, to himself, to Kavita, and then in the direction of the pyramid. Then, still explaining, he dropped his forehead to the sand before raising his face to the stars in a gesture of prayer. And Kavita understood.”
“Understood what?” Ella said. “You’re losing me.”
“Khufu had prayed to the heavens for help with his pyramid, and he believed the heavens had delivered her to him.”
“Wow!” said Richie. “Imagine someone thinking you’re a gift from the gods to a king!”
Noah still wondered about the name Kavita. He knew he had heard it before. He was about to ask Mr. Darby about it when the old man continued his story.
“Khufu engaged Kavita with his crew. She took over the job of moving and setting the stones in the pyramid—something she did at night by using her magic. Every evening the workmen left hundreds of giant blocks strewn across the quarry. And every morning they woke to find the quarry empty and hundreds of new stones set in place. Over time, this created a problem for the workmen.”
“A problem?” said Megan. “Why?”
“The workers believed that in creating the pyramid, they were preparing themselves for acceptance into the afterlife. While Khufu was certain that Kavita had come from the heavens, many workers were not. Some feared her. And they feared that Kavita’s work, when viewed by the gods, would minimize their own efforts. Would this prevent their welcome into the heavens?
“One night, many months after Kavita’s arrival, a group of workers slipped from their huts and escaped to the pyramid under the cover of darkness. They were armed with the hammers and copper rods that they used in the quarry. They climbed the ramp to the top of the pyramid, several hundred feet above ground, found Kavita, and stopped in their tracks. With her arms raised, Kavita was using magic to slide the blocks into place. All around her, the massive stones shifted and turned, as if jostling for position in the rows of the pyramid.
“The workers inched toward Kavita. They felt they had to stop her. As they closed in, Kavita noticed them. She ran to an open spot and fought them off by hurling the great stones at them. Some workmen were crushed, and others were thrown to the distant desert floor. When only five were left standing, something terrible happened. Kavita stepped into a hole and dropped thirty feet into the pyramid.”
Ella interrupted the story. “A hole? What are you talking about? Why would—”
“She landed in the tunnel leading to the king’s chamber. The tunnel, called the Grand Gallery, is the biggest, most elaborate part of the pyramid’s tunnel system. Kavita was constructing it by leaving an open space for it—an open space into which she fell.”
“What happened?” Megan asked. “The men—did they—”
“Come after her? Yes, I’m afraid they did. In the darkness, Kavita heard their bare feet thumping the stone floor. And in the long, confined space of the Grand Gallery, she had no way to escape. She was trapped in the pyramid.”
“But her magic!” Ella shouted. “Why didn’t she—?”
“The starlight couldn’t find the deep, dark trench of the Gallery. With no celestial light, she couldn’t work her magic. She became as powerless as you or I. Kavita ran until she finally reached the bottom chamber, where the tunnel came to an end. There, in the underground chamber of the Great Pyramid, the crazed men claimed the life of the world’s only magician.”
The scouts cringed on the backs of their animal friends. Noah felt sick—and for Kavita’s sake, he felt betrayed.
“How could they do it?” Ella asked. “The men—how could they be so cruel?”
Mr. Darby shook his head. “Fear. The emotion that controls us best.”
“Did they get caught—the men?” Megan asked.
“I don’t know. But one thing is certain. Khufu learned of Kavita’s murder, and fearing retaliation from the gods, he had his crew add two open shafts connecting the top chamber of the pyramid to the open air outside. The purpose of the shafts was to release Kavita’s magic back to the heavens, the place he believed it belonged.”
“Did . . . did it work?” Ella asked.
“Yes and no,” said Mr. Darby. “They released Kavita’s magic, but not to the heavens. For the last 4,500 years, this magic—an energy that eludes the science of your world—has continued to rise out of the darkness from the deep bottom chamber of the Great Pyramid, filling the world’s shadows with unimaginable power untouched by all of civilization.”
Like everything else about the Secret Zoo, Kavita’s story was almost too extraordinary to believe. No one made a sound—not the scouts, not the Descenders, not Tank, and none of the animals. Then Noah saw his opportunity to ask the question that had been bothering him.
“Kavita,” Noah said. “That name—I’ve heard it before. Where?”
“You have indeed heard it before,” Mr. Darby said. “Kavita was the name of a remarkable mother whom I’ve told you about.”
Noah searched his memory. “I don’t know . . . I can’t place it.”
“Two weeks ago I shared with you the story of how the Secret Zoo was created. It required the magic of identical triplets from India—three brothers. Their names were Bhanu, Kavi, and Vishal. You will remember that these brothers were born of different mothers, in different cities, at exactly the same time. The mothers all shared the same name.”
Noah gasped. For several moments, he couldn’t catch his breath. When he finally did, he could only manage a single word—the only word that mattered: “Kavita.”
Mr. Darby nodded. Then, gravely, he said, “It’s a complicated part of the story, and none of us understands it completely. All we know is that the brothers, when joined together, could reach into the shadows of the world, take Kavita’s magic, and use it.”
Noah had just enough breath to whisper, “And they used it to create the Secret Zoo.”
Chapter 10
The Taking of the Shadows
No one spoke. Noah forced himself to breathe.
After a long silence, Mr. Darby said, “I know it’s complicated and strange, but let me continue. Soon it will make more sense. For now, let me tell you about the day the shadows were taken.” The old man sat straight in his chair. “I was in the City of Species on the day it happened: April fifteenth in the year 1927. At some point in the evening, a commotion broke in the street. The source? A man. A man in a dark, flowing trench coat and a fedora hat with a wide brim. He’d emerged from a velvet curtain of a sector and walked into the city.
“He was so dreadfully strange that our Secret Cityzens saw him at once. The brim of his hat cast a shadow across his eyes, like a mask. Most of his face was hidden behind the upturned collar of his jacket. His skin, pasty white, looked as though it had never been touched by the sun. His lips were so dry and cracked that they gave the appearance of dead, shriveled worms. Of his body, nothing was visible but his hands. Plump blue veins crawled along them, winding around his knotted knuckles. Black, swollen nails curled off his fingertips. He had a dreadful aura, and the Secret Cityzens feared him at once. As he brushed by, they jumped out of his path.
“As he headed across the city, the Secret Cityzens began to realize that parts of their shadows were breaking away into his. He seemed to be sweeping them off the street. As the missing pieces quickly reappeared, the darkness in the man’s shadow
grew more and more absolute. It was as if their shadows were pooling into his, thickening it.
“After some time, a bloodcurdling scream split the air. All heads turned to the sound. Near a sector, a man had dropped to his knees, clutching his head. It was Bhanu, one of the magical brothers. People ran to his aid and draped their arms around his shoulders, trying to comfort him. Confused by his pain, Bhanu pushed them aside and kept screaming.
“While this was happening, the man in the trench coat walked on. He passed new people and new animals, claiming parts of their shadows for his own. His shadow began to thicken like a fog—a thing with weight and density, rather than an area simply vacant of light. And like a fog, this shadow began to move and churn and rise from the street. It seemed to come alive.
“Another scream ripped across the city. A few blocks away, another man had fallen to his knees, like Bhanu, clutching his head in pain. It was Vishal. People were terrified—something was happening to the brothers! The Secret Cityzens became unsure of everything.”
The scouts hung on every word, silent and puzzled. At the feet of Blizzard and Little Bighorn, the prairie dogs whimpered softly.
“The man in the trench coat continued forward, drawing more and more shadows into his own. Trails of darkness swirled around his boots and wafted up his legs. They engulfed his black trench coat and curled around his pale neck. As the shadows reached his face, he began to breathe them in. Darkness streamed in and out of his mouth. He seemed to draw energy from their sudden substance—like oxygen, the shadows seemed to offer him life.
“From down the street came another scream. This time it was Kavi, Bhanu’s other brother. He collapsed to his side, writhing in pain, his legs kicking out at the nothingness around him.
“The man walked on, the fog around him swirling and rising. His arms and legs stirred the darkness. He continued to draw the shadows into his lungs, like air. And like air, the shadows began to affect his body as they coursed through it. The map of plump veins across his hands turned black. Dark blotches formed on his face. His dry lips darkened and grayed.
“A group of Secret Cityzens were terrified into action. But as they converged on the man, he took off running, surrounded by his foggy shadow. He tore through the crowd, turned down a long alley, and vanished into its half darkness, his body seeming to dissipate. Shortly after he was gone, the brothers stopped screaming and rose to their feet, confused and stunned.”
Mr. Darby stopped and looked gravely at each of the scouts. Then the old man rose from his chair and strolled over to Noah, his long coat trailing behind him, a bit like a king’s gown. Beneath the weighty velvet, crisp, colorful leaves crumbled to pieces. When he reached Noah, he laid his open palm against Blizzard’s head. The mighty bear rolled his face into Mr. Darby’s touch and softly sniffed his sleeve.
In a flat, serious voice, Mr. Darby said, “It was him. The one we call the Shadowist.”
Richie quivered. “Okay, this Shadowist dude . . . yeah, kind of creepy. So if you could explain—”
Mr. Darby said, “He is the one who lives among the shadows—who draws breath from them.”
“But who is he?” Noah asked. “Where did he come from?”
“Outside,” said Mr. Darby. “The outside world—your world.”
“How did he get in?”
“He crossed. We don’t know how or through which sector, but we know that at least once he crossed and discovered our Secret Zoo and the City of Species.” Mr. Darby crouched and the prairie dogs scurried up to him, gathering around his ankles. He stroked a few of their heads.
“But how do you know he wasn’t a Secret Cityzen from the Inside?” Ella asked.
“It’s something we just know—partly from reason, partly from intuition.”
For a moment, no one said a word. Mr. Darby fixed his stare on Noah, who saw himself reflected in each dark lens of the old man’s sunglasses.
“Months after the shadows were taken, some people spotted a strange man in the Secret Zoo and chased him outside. They described him as wearing a long black coat and a big hat with a wide, circular brim—a fedora hat. Only one person was able to get a good look at this stranger: the guard at the front gates of the Clarksville Zoo. This guard saw the stranger’s face—or what should have been his face, anyway. Parts of it were missing.”
“Missing?” said Noah.
“His nose, his cheek . . . parts of the stranger were simply . . . gone. His flesh seemed held together by darkness.” Mr. Darby stared at the scouts before continuing. “Many are certain that this was the man who had walked down the City of Species, drawing shadows into his own. The stranger did more than take our shadows—he became them. He became darkness itself—all that is not.”
“This is crazy!” Ella was suddenly exasperated with the whole story. “How can someone become a shadow? A shadow is nothing! A shadow is a . . . a . . .” She turned to Richie. “Help me out, Little Einstein. What the heck is a shadow?”
“It’s . . . nothing, just like you said. It’s an area that light can’t reach.”
Mr. Darby pushed his sunglasses up on his nose. “That’s exactly why Kavita’s magic stays in the shadows. Shadows escape the light of human understanding. In their darkness, Kavita’s magic remains hidden.”
“This magic,” said Richie, “what’s it like?”
“It’s an energy. It swirls in the shadows. It spills forth from the Great Pyramid. During the day, visitors unknowingly carry it in their shadows as they walk between the pyramids. Then they leave with the magic, taking it elsewhere.”
Noah asked, “But how did the magic get all the way here—to America?”
“A common virus can spread across the earth in a matter of days. Think of the time Kavita’s magic has had. In over 4,500 years, her magic has spread everywhere, not just to America.”
“Everywhere in the whole world?”
Mr. Darby nodded. “But no one other than the Secret Society knows about it. And the only reason we know is because of Bhanu and his brothers.”
“But how—how did Bhanu and his brothers use it?”
Mr. Darby gestured to the surrounding bookcases. “Down these aisles are countless books on the history of the Secret Society. In one, Bhanu described reaching into shadows and feeling the magic swirling there. The feeling, he said, was like a soft, burning sensation that started at his fingertips and crept up his arms and across his chest. His head would explode with light, and he’d feel something churning in his mind. At this point he was able to redefine the properties of his surroundings. Shape them.”
Noah listened intently. One thing still didn’t make sense.
“How did the Shadowist get to the magic? You said that Bhanu and his brothers were the only ones who knew about it.”
Mr. Darby cleared his throat. “You’re right. I did say that.”
“Okay. Then what about the Shadowist?”
“The Shadowist has a name. Jonathan DeGraff.”
“DeGraff . . .” said Richie. “That name . . . where have I heard it before?”
With his attention still fixed on Mr. Darby, Noah was the one who answered. “In the story of Mr. Jackson, the man who created the Clarksville Zoo. DeGraff was the guy who told Mr. Jackson about Bhanu and his brothers so that Mr. Jackson would go to them to create the Secret Zoo.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Darby. “But I’m afraid there is more to that story. DeGraff is the fourth identical brother.”
Noah’s heart dropped.
Mr. Darby continued. “Once DeGraff found his way into the Secret Zoo—once he neared his three brothers— he, too, was able to reach into the shadows and use Kavita’s magic. And he used it to draw the shadows into his body, to become their very substance—dark, empty, eternal.”
Ella said, “But the other brothers are dead now. Why does it matter if the Shadowist gets back inside the Secret Zoo?”
Mr. Darby said, “Though the other brothers are dead, their power is not.”
Hearing t
his, Noah remembered what Mr. Darby had told them during their first adventure in the Secret Zoo. He had said that the brothers’ magic was still alive, and the Secret Society still used it.
“But how—”
“The Cemetery Sector,” said Mr. Darby.
Noah nodded. “One of the Forbidden Five. The Descenders just told us about it.”
“The three brothers are buried there in a single casket. Their bodies still draw the magic from the shadows.”
“So if the Shadowist gets near the Cemetery Sector . . .” Noah’s voice trailed off.
Mr. Darby finished his thought. “If the Shadowist gets near the Cemetery Sector, he’ll draw enough power and magic into himself to destroy the entire Secret Society and then move on to your world.”
The idea struck Noah with such force that he shuddered. For the first time, he truly understood what the Secret Society was up against.
“But why?” Megan asked. “Why does DeGraff want to do this? Why is he so wicked?”
“Soon you will know,” Mr. Darby said. The old man paused and became more serious than ever. “But in the end, you’ll wish to forget.”
Chapter 11
The Plan
Mr. Darby sat once again in the pillowed chair beside the fountain and crossed his legs, his long purple coat spilling over the leafy floor. The prairie dogs, more frightened than ever, gathered in its velvet folds, yipping weakly.
Mr. Darby murmured, “There, there.” He scooped the prairie dogs up two at a time and set them gently on the wide arms of the chair and his lap. “They frighten easily,” he said, the suggestion of a smile on his lips.
Ella jerked her thumb over her shoulder in Richie’s direction. “They’re not the only ones.” After he’d heard the story of the Shadowist, Richie’s face was almost as white as Blizzard’s fur.
Megan said to Mr. Darby, “Something doesn’t make sense. The Shadowist . . . how did he—”