Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series)

by C. Deanna Verhoff

  Glory sat, holding knees, going from hot to freezing within a matter of minutes—-or was it hours? The cold damp penetrated her muscles, making them shake. Malevolent thoughts filled her mind.

  Come to think of it Brandon wasn’t the dependable sort and probably would just as soon she’d never returned. Then again, what if Brandon did raise the alarm and nobody outside the family cared enough to bother? She could almost hear Dad say, one less kid, one less mouth to feed.

  I knew someday this place would claim me, but the lure of the Queen’s Treasure was simply too hard to resist, now I’m going to die here, alone and forgotten at the bottom of a cold dark pit. Will anyone even mourn that I’m gone?

  Then she heard it again—signs of life. Her head jerked to attention at the sound of something shuffling in the darkness. There was that sniffing sound again. A low guttural growl filled the cave.

  Glory’s body tensed as her eyes fell upon two circles of red light coming her way. The Hoogula! She somehow knew the red-eyed devil had come to life. Suddenly, she was hit from the front. Crushing weight sat on her chest. Huge round eyes glowed down at her, casting the tunnel in an eerie red glow.

  She boxed furiously at its sinewy body above, but thorny projections tore at her knuckles. The Hoogula snapped, just missing her ear. A massive paw pressed down on her chest, but she managed to squirm away, only to be knocked down again. In desperation, she held onto one of its front leg, making her body more difficult to access. She chomped down on the Hoogula’s leg with her teeth, tearing off a fishy-tasting wad of flesh.

  The Hoogula flinched and yelped, giving her a chance to roll free.

  Arms held out in front of her like bumpers, she made a dash through utter darkness, spitting out bits of Hoogula, fearing every step might be her last. She tripped and fell. She felt skin scrape off her knees. Ignoring the pain, she found her footing. Run. Run. She stumbled again. Next, she slid in darkness, the sound of thousands of pebbles sliding with her.

  The escape was maddening. Barking sounded all around. She ran faster until there was no more floor. Arms and legs flailed. This exact scenario was what had always scared her about Queen’s Mesa.

  Screaming, she fell deeper than she thought possible. She prayed to die on impact. Body clenched, she waited for the inevitable crash of bone against stone. But she continued to fall impossibly long. She wanted her last thought to be a good one, so she pictured the sunlight glinting off little George’s hair. Who would cherish him after she died? Poor George. All alone, with nobody who really loved him.

  “Magic of the Elboni, don’t let me die!”

  Instead of hitting rock, her body landed in a pile of warm, forgiving sand.

  Wheezing for breath, she sat up, jarred to the core, shocked to be alive. Concave white walls surrounded her. Light poured through an oval shaped opening way at the top. “This isn’t Queen’s Mesa.”

  Mental fog lifted.

  “I’m back in the friggin’ Bamboozle.”

  On a positive note, there was Clash, sleeping in the sand curled up in fetal position under the patch of moonlight.

  Glory whispered his name, “Besnik Gundisalv,” but he didn’t wake.

  She hungered for a kind face and the comfort of a Tullahn voice. She wanted to talk with him to discuss how she escaped the second door. Instead, she curled up in the sand beside him, remembering the horrible feeling of falling through nothingness.

  If the green door led to embarrassment, and the blue door led to her fears surrounding Queen’s Mesa, what sort of hell waited behind the black door? Tired, but unable to fall asleep, she stared at the dark patch of sky above wondering what to do.

  Chapter 22

  Glory fell into a fitful sleep. When she woke, her lips were glued together with icky white stuff. Clash was talking in his sleep. She took a sip from Matthew’s water bottle, staring in the black door’s general direction. Was it means of escape or her worst fear come to life? Her fingers went to the bird whistle. Whether the Wybbils carried her out of the Bamboozle, or she walked out on her own, she’d be brought back to face Lady Gost.

  “My scheme is doomed for failure,” she decided. “Clash is right. I should give back the stone and go home. I’m a loser Alley, just like Mandy said. Nothing ever goes my way.”

  “But I can’t let Mandy be right.” Her fists clenched thinking about Mandy’s smug looks and cruel comments. “Being poor doesn’t make me a loser. Now I absolutely HAVE to go through that confounded black door. Just as soon as I’m ready.”

  Picking up the blue Sliver, she resumed her game of JunkYard Derby.

  “Only 722 points for the new record. Matthew, eat my dust.”

  She had been playing a while, putting off the inevitable, when the sound of clearing throats caused her to jump. The star riders stood around her. So absorbed in the game, she hadn’t noticed them come in.

  “Time to go through the black door or negotiate,” Bone said. His eyes looked bloodshot. The lines on his face seemed somehow sinister. “What shall it be, Rock Collector?”

  “Gimme a second,” she said, eyes back on the Sliver screen as she madly punched buttons. “Only six hundred points until I beat his high score.”

  Needle swiped the Sliver out of her hand.

  “Hey!”

  The three Wybbils studied it a minute, turning it around to get a better look.

  “What’s this? A game!” White Feather thundered, throwing the Sliver at her head. “While the fate of Wybb hangs in the balance, ye entertain yourself with trivial pursuits?”

  “Outrageous!” agreed Bone.

  “But she did return through the second door on her own accord,” Needle pointed out. “There must be good in her somewhere.”

  “A fluke,” Bone said.

  “We cannot force her to end the testing,” Needle said. “Nor can we force her to continue.”

  “Nor can we afford to be patient,” said Bone.

  “Give us the Elboni,” White Feather demanded.

  “No.”

  “Then finish the test.”

  “I’m not going through that black door,” Glory said, shaking her head, fumbling to return the Sliver to her pocket. “Nuh-uh, no way, no how.”

  “Ye can’t stay in here forever.”

  “I can try.”

  “Get up,” Bone ordered. He took a threatening step forward, his brow full of furious lines. “Where be the Elboni?”

  Expecting a punch, she held her forearms up to shield her face.

  “Quit doing that,” Bone complained. “I’m not going to hit ye.”

  “Rock Collector,” Needle reasoned. “If ye haven’t figured it out yet, the doors be a dupe. They don’t lead outward, but inward.”

  “Huh?”

  “Inside the Bamboozle ye find the monsters of your own making, so ye can never defeat it. The only way out be through us.”

  “Huh?”

  “The only way out be through us.”

  “But you said the test would end if I returned through all three doors on my own.”

  “Aye, the rules say it be possible, but to this date nobody has ever escaped the Bamboozle on his own.”

  “Not even once?”

  “Not even once.”

  “Then what’s the point?”

  “To force you to return the Elboni, of course,” Needle replied. “Even the hardest of criminals spill their worst secrets to get out of this place. Delaying the decision to go through the door won’t help ye avoid anything because ye can never escape your own self.”

  “This is bogus! You scammers! You liars!”

  “We never lied. The test will end, but not in the way ye be hoping.”

  Fuming, Glory folded her arms across her chest. “All this for nothing.”

  “So, Rock Collector, ready to return the Elboni?” White Feather asked.

  “No,” she said defiantly.

  The star riders took in sharp breaths and shook their heads.

  “If ye don’t,” Bone
said between clenched teeth, “we’ll open the black door and throw ye in ourselves.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Glory tested, knowing full well they would.

  Clash stirred with a yawn, rubbing his uncomprehending eyes.

  The star riders closed in around Glory. She rushed toward the open red door, but Bone tackled her to the ground. He took hold of her ankles while White Feather grabbed both wrists. They carried Glory toward the black door and Needle turned the handle.

  “Not fair! You can’t do this! Cheaters!”

  “We can’t be cheating when we’re not the one taking the test,” Needle said, pulling open the black door. “Tell us the location of the Elboni or prepare to be thrown to your darkest fears”

  “I know what’s behind the doors isn’t real! No matter what happens I’ll just end up here again! So I’m not in the least bit scared!” She lied.

  “Not real? I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were ye. Besides, things change after the last door spits you out,” Bone said. “If the black door doesn’t get you, then the riplets will.”

  “Riplets?”

  “Under our feet lie thousands of riplet eggs. Every seven days they hatch. Hunger brings them to the surface to feed.”

  “But there’s nothing here ‘cept sand.”

  “And the riplets—vermin that lives beneath the sand.”

  “How can anything survive on sand alone?”

  “Cannibals they be, thousands of them. Once hatched, they live out their entire life in a single day, devouring anything that moves, including each other, until only the strongest one remains to lay more eggs. It’s a never ending cycle.”

  “These riplets,” Glory gulped, “Will eat anything?”

  “Anything alive,” Bone answered with a glint in his eye.

  Glory felt helpless dangling between the Wybbils like a pig about to be skewered and roasted over a fire. The sandy beach was visible beyond the black door, sparkling under the full moon.

  “Where be the Elboni?” Bone snarled.

  “You don’t understand!” Glory said, trying not to cry. “I don’t want to harm Wybb, but I don’t want to lose my family either. And I’m not even sure you’re telling me the truth about your world losing its magic. Please, please, can’t you spare just a little bit of magic for a desperate Tullahn? It’s not just for me, you know!”

  “Hey!” she heard Clash yell. “Get your paws off her!”

  “On three,” said White Feather.

  “One, two, three...”

  Glory sailed through the door. She tumbled head over heels into frosty grass, coming to a stop in a pile of dry leaves. The sun looked like a struggling white orb behind a patch of gray clouds. The icy air nipped at her nose. A single star twinkled over a dilapidated white farmhouse with peeling paint. She wondered what in the heck she was doing outside in her pajamas and how those pajamas got to be in such wretched condition. Little tears covered them. The fabric seemed glued to the scabs on her knees. Glory was wearing her own coat and oddly enough, someone else’s varsity jacket. She glanced at the house with both dread and longing. Home looked welcoming and sad at the same time.

  “Grab her,” a woman shouted.

  Startled, Glory spun around to see who had spoken. A woman in a gray tweed coat was pointing her way. Two police officers lumbered toward her.

  “You!” One of them yelled.

  “Me?” Glory pointed to her chest.

  “Run, Glory! Run!”

  Her head jerked toward the porch.

  Danny and Randy were there shouting at her to run away.

  Bewildered, she saw several adults coming out of the house. Eyes went big as she recognized the bony face of Miss Crenshaw, the woman set on destroying the Alleys.

  The big guys in uniform were headed her way.

  “Run!” Brandon shouted from just inside the front door.

  That sounded like a good idea. Glory bounded over the leaf pile, trying to remember what the heck she might have done to get in trouble with the law. Maybe someone figured out she was the one spray painting inside of Queen’s Mesa.

  A crowd of police and other adults were at the house.

  She must have done something bad—REAL BAD. If I can get to the woods I’ll make my way to Queen’s Mesa and hide out ‘til this thing blows over.

  She sprinted toward the clumpy field, but wasn’t fast enough. A cop overtook her from behind and clamped onto her elbow with an iron grip.

  “I won’t do it again!” Glory protested, trying to break his grip. “You’re hurting me!”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, young lady,” he said, dragging her toward the front yard. “You’re not in trouble. A citizen made a report about a mishap here, that’s all. We’re here to help.”

  Miss Crenshaw slid in between the police officers, walking next to Glory.

  “I am not your enemy, sweetie,” she said. “Your welfare is my number one concern. Hold still.” Miss Crenshaw took hold of the hem of Glory’s shirt. “I just want to have a look at you.”

  She suddenly remembered the whipping in the barn. And the welts. She punched and tried to squirm away for all she was worth, but the man was a bull moose.

  Miss Crenshaw zeroed in on her back. She discretely slipped up the back of her coat and shirt. How did she know?

  Miss Crenshaw gasped. The cop let out a few swear words. C’mon, she wanted to say. No biggie. The welts are already scabbed over. Dad shouldn’t have whipped her like that and she knew it. Still…they didn’t understand how great the real Dad could be, what he had been like before Mom died.

  “Just as Ted said,” Miss Crenshaw let slip. “Officers, you know what to do.”

  “You don’t understand,” said Glory, knowing life was about to get a whole lot different, but not any better. “It was all my fault. I fell off the ladder.”

  The officer led her away by the hand toward a squadron of cars parked in the driveway.

  Ted Filmore stood on the front porch—what the heck was he doing here?

  She heard one of the officers talking about how the suspect had barricaded himself in the bathroom, threatening to kill himself.

  “Dad!” Her hand reached toward the house, which looked small as her thumb from this perspective.

  She tried to yank her arm out of the officer’s grip, but he quickly ushered her to the back of one of squad cars.

  “Don’t worry, kid, everything will be fine,” the officer said. “Your dad will get the help he needs, and who knows, maybe you can come back to live with him in a couple of years.”

  “A couple of years—that’s practically forever!”

  “Here’s a friend for you,” the officer shoved a stuffed bear into her arms. “When you’re scared just squeeze Mister Bear and you’ll feel better.”

  “I don’t want a stupid toy,” Glory said in disgust and tossed the bear onto the seat of the squad car. “I want to my Dad. I want my brothers and sisters.”

  The officer slammed the door shut. Glory tried to open it, but couldn’t find a handle.

  Brandon was led across the lawn between two officers. Although he wasn’t cuffed, the officers appeared to have a tight hold on him, as if they expected trouble.

  Patrice, on the other hand, trailed behind them with her head hung low. “What have I done?” she wailed.

  Ted Filmore tried to put an arm around her shoulder, but she sloughed him off.

  “I trusted you not to say anything, Ted, and you promised you wouldn’t!”

  “It’s for her own good,” he said. “For all of you.”

  “Get away from me!” she yelled.

  The cops intervened, pushing him aside and ushered Patrice down the walkway.

  Randy was placed in a squad car separate from Danny. Both of them were unusually pale and cooperative. The twins hadn’t spent a day apart since birth, this just wasn’t right.

  Finally, Miss Crenshaw came out carrying diapered, but shirtless George. She wrapped him in a blanket. One bare l
ittle foot dangled in the cool air. He cried pitifully.

  Glory pressed her face against the window. “Oh, George!” She literally ached for him, knowing he couldn’t possibly understand what was happening. If only she could grab him and run where nobody would ever find them.

  George spotted her in the car. His little arms reached out as he cried, “Gwoooo-weeee!”

  “George!” she yelled, worried she might not ever see him again. She put her mouth up to the slit of the slightly opened window. “Gwo-wee loves George! And George loves Gwo-wee! Never forget that!”

  “Gwo-wee!” He wailed.

  Dad appeared on the front porch. In his socks, boxer shorts and a holey T-shirt. He stumbled over himself, but never quite fell. “Take my house,” he slurred, “take my land, but I’ll see you in hell before I let you take my kids.”

  The officers, who had been gabbing before, stiffened and turned their attention to Dad, who continued to babble on. “This is still my property until the end of the month—pigs. Get your filthy hides off of my land!”

  An officer approached Dad.

  “The governor sent you—didn’t he? Murdering my wife and having the Tax Ministry squeeze every credit out of me wasn’t enough for him—eh? So now he’s sent you goons here to take away my kids.”

  “Calm down, Mr. Alley.”

  Dad cussed and swung. The officer blocked and the two of them locked into a fighting embrace. They rolled off the porch and onto the ground.

  A mob of police officers swarmed around the tousle, piling on top of them.

  Dad continued to throw punches. Ted watched from the sidelines.

  “Stop!” Glory pleaded from the car. “Stop fighting! Don’t hurt my dad! He can’t help it! Please, don’t hurt him!” A blur of fists and billy clubs flew.

  “He’s got a gun!” an officer cried out.

  Officers stepped away from Dad. Dad rose to one knee. Blood ran from one nostril over his mouth and down his chin. He raised the weapon and pointed it toward Ted.

  “Nobody takes my kids,” he swore, glaring hatefully at everyone, pointing the gun at Patrice’s boyfriend. “Especially you.”