Pan's Realm

by Christopher Pike

  “At least tell us if they’re still alive,” Cindy said, exasperated.

  Pan finally looked up at that. “I’m sorry, Cindy. The last time I saw them they were alive, but I don’t know what Klandor has done to them by now. The wizard has absolutely no honor. In front of everyone I explained exactly how he had cheated me, and he had the nerve to deny it. Then, when I challenged him to combat, he refused to cross swords with me. He is not only evil, he is unethical.”

  “Like all this is a big surprise to us,” Watch said.

  Cindy was anxious. “We have to get back to the castle. We have to rescue Adam and Sally before he does something horrible to them.”

  Pan shook his head. “It is impossible. If I go back there, I will be killed and eaten. And you’ll never get into the castle without me to lead you.”

  “Excuse me,” Cindy said angrily, “Adam and Sally risked their lives to help you. Now you had better risk your life to save them. We are going back to the castle and you are going with us. That is a fact you’d better accept right now.”

  Pan appeared crushed. “Fine. But we will be walking to our deaths.” He sighed and gazed up at the sky. “Not that I would mind leaving this world right now.”

  Watch nodded to the crystal necklace. “Is that the piece that we’ve heard so much about?”

  Pan glanced down. “Yes. I was just about to throw it away again.”

  Watch held out his hand. “May I see it?”

  Pan gave it to him. “You may keep it. I would rather not have to see it again in this life.”

  “Hello, Pan,” Sarshi said.

  Pan frowned in her direction. “Who are you?”

  “A fairy. A loyal subject. I am here to help save your kingdom.”

  “How old are you?” Pan asked.

  Sarshi fidgeted. “Almost ten. But I’m very powerful. Just ask Watch. I healed his leg.”

  “She fixed it up better than you had,” Watch admitted as he studied the crystal necklace. “I don’t even have a limp. She also fed us.” Watch pointed out the order of the stones to Cindy. “See how the blue one is set at the bottom.”

  “So what?” Cindy said. “What does it mean?”

  Watch shrugged. “I don’t know. But it would look prettier if the clear stones were set on either side of the blue one.”

  “But who cares whether it’s pretty or not?” Cindy asked. “All that matters is whether we can use it as a weapon to get back at Klandor and free Adam and Sally.”

  Watch spoke to Pan. “Did Adam certify that this thing makes you see the opposite of what you desire?”

  “I think so,” Pan mumbled.

  “Yes or no?” Cindy demanded.

  “Yes,” Pan replied. “It turns the whole brain upside down.”

  Watch considered. “What if we could convince ­Klandor to gamble with us? What if when we do so, we have Sarshi secretly slip this necklace around the wizard’s neck? We might be able to trick him with his own tool.”

  “What do we have to offer him that he will want to gamble with us?” Cindy asked.

  Watch touched his pants pocket. “I have a thing or two with me that he might desire.”

  “But I told you,” Sarshi said, “Klandor is more ­powerful than any fairy. I can weave an invisible net around myself, but his keen eyes will pierce it. He will see me if I try to slip the necklace around his neck, and he will know what we’re up to.”

  “I’ve thought about that.” Watch fiddled with the bottom blue stone. “Still, it may be possible to distract him somehow so that you can do what you need to do. To make him believe he knows what we’re up to and have him be completely wrong.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cindy asked.

  Watch pulled the blue stone free. “I think the order of these crystals is important.” He held the stone up to the light. “In fact, I think the order makes the whole thing work.”

  12

  After Pan left, Klandor turned Adam and Sally into chickens. Adam became a rooster and Sally a hen. Klandor simply waved his bony arms and chanted a few nasty words and the transformation occurred, right in front of all the elves and dwarfs, who cheered the spectacle. Then the wizard ordered that the two be taken outside and put in the wire cage with the other poultry. It seemed Klandor planned on having chicken for dinner that night.

  Adam and Sally huddled in a corner of the cage and tried to look inconspicuous. The other chickens walked around and pecked at the seed spread on the ground. So far Adam and Sally had not invited much attention. Normally Adam wouldn’t have looked twice at the seed, but now it did seem kind of appealing. He hadn’t had lunch. He told Sally as much.

  “How can you think of eating at a time like this?” she snapped at him. “We have to get out of here and get back to the others.”

  “If we do get back to the others,” Adam said, “they might eat us.”

  Sally was worried. Adam had never seen a worried chicken before, and the sight would have been comical if the situation had been less dire.

  “But we can still speak,” Sally said. “We can talk to them. They’ll recognize us that way.”

  “We seem to be speaking to each other,” Adam said, “but we don’t have human vocal cords. I doubt a person would understand us. In fact, I suspect we sound no different from all the other chickens gathered here.”

  “That’s depressing,” Sally said.

  “It’s reality.”

  Sally was annoyed. “How can you say being turned into chickens is reality? Nothing in this dimension makes any sense. We have to figure out a way out of here, I tell you, and soon.”

  “You’re not listening to me. Getting out of here is only half our problem. We still have to get Klandor to change us back into human beings. And I don’t know how we can do that. The guy is completely ­unreasonable.”

  “Like calling him a cheat was reasoning with him.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Adam said. “You said that. And probably if you had kept your mouth shut, we would be with Pan right now, walking back toward the portal.”

  “Pan’s a loser,” Sally grumbled. “Klandor says he can go, so he just leaves. He hardly says goodbye to us. I swear, the wizard should have changed him into something.”

  “He does have half a goat’s body already,” Adam remarked.

  “So put a penguin head on him. What I mean is, it was his kingdom that we were trying to win back and he’s the one who gets set free. It’s not fair.”

  “When has Spooksville ever been fair?” Adam asked.

  Sally fumed, which made her feathers stand up straighter. “We’re a long way from Spooksville right now.”

  That point was driven home a moment later when a fat white hen came up to Adam and started nudging his side. Adam tried to push the hen away, but the creature kept pressing against him, much to his annoyance.

  “I think she likes you,” Sally observed.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Adam said.

  “Why are you embarrassed?” Sally asked. “You have nice red feathers, cool skinny legs. I find you kind of cute myself.”

  “I am not a rooster,” Adam replied. “Don’t treat me like one.”

  “You’re the one who just said we have to face reality,” Sally said. “Right now, you look like a rooster.” She added, “Do you think I’m a good-looking hen?”

  “I wouldn’t know a good-looking hen if one was staring me in the face,” Adam said. The fat white chicken finally got on his nerves. Using all his strength, he pushed it away. But the creature just jumped back to his side. “What’s your problem?” Adam asked.

  The hen replied. “I love you.”

  Adam blinked. “What?”

  Sally burst out laughing. “Oh my! Adam has a girlfriend!”

  Adam yelled at her. “Shut up! Don’t let the other chickens hear that.
This one is bad enough. Anyway, this hen doesn’t love me. It’s just a chicken. It’s not even supposed to be able to talk.”

  The fat hen brushed up against Adam again.

  “You are such a strong rooster,” she said.

  Sally was dying with laughter. She appeared to be on the verge of shedding all her feathers simultaneously. “She’ll want to have your eggs next, Adam!” she howled. “You better tell her that you only work for the Easter Bunny!”

  Adam fumed. “This is not funny!”

  “This is outrageous!” Sally told him.

  The fat hen continued to pester him.

  “How come I haven’t seen you around before?” she asked.

  “I’m—I’m not from these parts,” Adam mumbled.

  The fat hen leaned close. “Are you happy here?”

  Adam averted his head. “No. I am not happy.”

  “Why not?” the hen asked, standing so close to Adam that he could feel her chicken breath on his feathers. But then Adam got an idea.

  “I’m not happy because I’m sick,” he said. “I have a fatal illness.”

  The fat hen drew back a step. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Sally had yet to stop laughing.

  “I have an allergy,” Adam said.

  “But allergies are not fatal,” the hen said.

  “This one is,” Adam said. “I’m allergic to feathers. Especially white ones. Just being around you is killing me.”

  The fat hen looked sad. “Do you want me to go away?”

  “Yes, please,” Adam said. “Go as far away as possible.”

  “But will we meet again?”

  “Only time will tell,” Adam said.

  Dejected, the fat hen wandered off. Sally poked Adam in the ribs, or rather, in the white meat part of the breast. She had finally begun to calm down.

  “Why didn’t you just tell her you were with me?” she asked.

  “I don’t think chickens respect committed relationships.”

  Sally was impressed. “Is that what we have? Now that Cindy will no longer be interested in you?”

  Adam brushed her off. An elf was walking toward the metal cage, and he had a couple of bags in his hand. Adam pointed him out.

  “This is our chance to escape,” he said.

  Sally shook with fear. “Don’t be ridiculous. That elf is coming for dinner.”

  “Can we stay here forever?” Adam asked. “We have to get out of this cage. Once back in the castle we might have room to maneuver.”

  “Once we’re in the castle they’ll eat us,” Sally cried. “Please, Adam, we can’t let him catch us. I’m claustrophobic. I can’t be stuffed in a bag. I’m attached to my head. I can’t stand the thought of having it separated from my shoulders.”

  But Adam had made up his mind. “I would rather die than be hit on by fat chickens for the rest of my life.” He took a step toward the elf as the servant of the wizard began to open the cage. “Come with me, Sally. It will be all right.”

  “I hope they don’t fry me.” Sally moaned. “I can’t stand fried chicken.”

  13

  Pan had somehow bluffed his way back into the castle. But this time when he was brought before Klandor in the huge hall—with Watch and Cindy beside him—the wizard appeared more frightening than before. The mood inside the castle was grim. Once upon a time these dwarf and elf guards had served Pan. Few of them disliked Pan. They had gone over to Klandor’s side for business reasons. It was nothing personal. The wizard had the power now, that was all that mattered.

  No doubt that was the reason Klandor had allowed Pan to go free. The wizard hadn’t wanted to push Pan’s once-loyal subjects too far, and possibly set off an uprising. In fact, the elves and dwarfs that had been sent to escort Pan to the interdimensional portal had let him go free a mile from the castle. They hadn’t wanted to rub salt in their ex-master’s obvious wounds. But Klandor had laid down the law with Pan only a few hours before, in front of everyone, and now Pan had chosen to violate it. Klandor could not let him go again without losing face. For that reason the first words out of the wizard’s mouth were scary indeed.

  “Do you have any last words, Pan?” he asked.

  Pan had regained a measure of strength. “Yes. My friends want to play a game with you.”

  The reply momentarily stunned Klandor, but he recovered quickly. “What kind of game?” he asked.

  “They want to gamble with you,” Pan explained. “Toss the coin, as we tossed the coin.”

  Klandor laughed softly, deadly. “What do they have to wager that I could possibly want?”

  “These,” Watch said, pulling his pocket calculator and Sally’s Bic lighter from his pocket. “This calculator is actually a miniature computer. It can perform every type of mathematical calculation imaginable. It can also store data related to one’s personal calendar. You can write yourself reminder notes. Although the keyboard is tiny, you can even write a love letter or a whole term paper using this instrument.”

  Klandor tried to act disinterested, although it was obvious he was intrigued. “What’s the warranty on it?”

  “Two years, parts and labor,” Watch said.

  “What’s its power source?” Klandor asked.

  “Two triple-A batteries.”

  The wizard snorted. “Where am I going to get batteries in this dimension? The calculator will just run down and then be useless to me.”

  “That’s true,” Watch admitted. “But it has fresh ­lithium batteries in it right now. If you use the calculator carefully, it will take ages before the batteries go dead.”

  Klandor considered. “What else have you brought?”

  Watch held aloft the lighter, flicked it a couple of times so the flame appeared and disappeared. “This lighter is brand-new,” he said. “Its fuel reserve is at maximum. But even when it does run out, even in this dimension, you should be able to replenish it with another source of fuel.”

  Klandor acted unimpressed. “I’m a powerful wizard. I can start a fire by snapping my fingers. What do I need a lighter for?”

  “Excuse me for putting it this way,” Watch said. “But you’re an old powerful wizard, and you ain’t getting younger. I bet starting a fire isn’t as easy as it used to be. But with this lighter in your pocket, you won’t even have to remember the spell for fire.”

  “Are you questioning my memory, young human?” Klandor snapped.

  “Not at all,” Watch said. “But as the years roll by, all of us have a little more trouble remembering the most obvious facts. All I’m saying is that the lighter and the calculator make living life that much easier and pleasanter.” He paused. “These are the two items we have brought to wager. Two items, I believe, that are difficult, if not impossible, to obtain in this dimension.”

  Klandor considered. “What do you want me to wager in return?”

  Watch didn’t hesitate. “Your wizard’s hat for the lighter.”

  “Is that all?” Klandor asked.

  Watch shrugged. “It’s a nice hat. I want it.”

  “You want it because it’s a magical hat,” Klandor said sternly. “It is worth far more than your silly lighter.”

  “That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

  “I’ll make you a counteroffer,” the wizard said. “Both the lighter and the calculator for my hat.”

  Watch shook his head. “No dice.”

  Klandor smiled thinly. “We won’t use dice. We toss a coin. Heads or tails. It is very simple. You either win or you lose.” He paused. “You must wager both.”

  “No,” Watch said.

  “What are you saving the calculator for?”

  “A second wager.”

  “What do you want for it?” Klandor asked.

  “That is none of your business. Not unless you win both i
tems from me.”

  The wizard scowled. “You are a stubborn human.”

  “We are a stubborn race,” Cindy chipped in.

  Klandor waved his hand. “All right, I will put up my hat for the lighter. I will even let you toss the coin and let you call it while it is still in the air. Does that sound fair?”

  “Yes,” Watch replied, bringing out the crystal necklace. “The only condition I have is that you wear this necklace while we play.”

  Every dwarf and elf in the room leaned in closer.

  Pan smiled slightly although he remained silent.

  Klandor was suspicious. “Why should I wear it?”

  “Why not?” Cindy asked. “You say it has no effect on the wearer.”

  “I must insist that you wear it if you want to win this fine lighter and this superb calculator,” Watch said. “Our good friend Pan had to wear it before, and now it’s your turn.”

  “I did not force Pan to wear the necklace,” Klandor said. “He chose to wear it.”

  “Is there some reason you are afraid to wear it?” Cindy taunted gently.

  The wizard snorted. “I am afraid of nothing.” He stood up from his throne. “Give me the necklace. Loyal slaves, get my pillow and gold coin.” He rubbed his hands together as if he were eager for the contest to begin. “Step forward and lay out your goods, Watch. This will be the last time you see them.”

  A few minutes later Watch was sitting opposite Klandor, with the whole assembly looking on. Many held their breath—the tension was that great. Yet Watch seemed unconcerned as he sat across from the evil wizard. Watch rubbed the gold coin between his fingers.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to toss it?” Watch asked. “I don’t mind. That way there can be no possibility of my cheating you.” He paused. “Does that sound fair?”

  Klandor grabbed the gold coin from him. “You think to play with me, young human, but I warn you. I have played against much greater beings than you and I have beaten them every time.”

  “Then play. Toss the coin. Call it anyway you want.”

  Klandor glanced at the coin, at the crystal necklace around his neck, at the crowd. Once more a faint smile touched his lips. He gestured to a nearby dwarf to come closer.