“Where are we?” Celia asked.
“And why are all these kids clapping at us?” Oliver wondered.
“They clap to ward off evil,” a voice called from a wall high above them. It came from an old man wearing a monk’s robes with a giant yellow hat shaped like a crescent moon. Two giant Tibetan warriors stood on either side of him wearing large swords, heavy cloaks and grim expressions. When the old man in the big yellow hat spoke, all the children grew quiet. The gong next to him sounded again. “They clap so that you would wake and be free of the dark dreams that brought you here.”
“Okay,” Celia shouted up, still quite distrustful of monks. “Where is here?”
“You are at the Monastery of the Demon Fortress of the Oracle King,” the old man said. “I am the abbot here, and I have been expecting you. I’m very glad you survived the waterfall and found your way to us. Come inside and have a bite to eat before we get down to business, as they say.” He glanced quickly at the guards next to him and Oliver thought the old abbot looked frightened.
“What do we do?” Oliver wondered.
“Eat, I guess,” said Celia as they hopped off the yak.
From the shadows of an upper window, a figure watched the twins follow the abbot and the large warriors inside. Just as Celia glanced up, it disappeared from view. She wasn’t sure if she even saw anything at all.
“Something’s not right about this place,” she said to no one in particular. She had no idea how true that was.
28
WE SHARE A DISAPPOINTING DINNER
THEY ENTERED A GRAND room with a giant U-shaped table in the middle of it. The walls of the room were hung with painted silk that showed stories from the history of Tibet. There was even an unfinished image that looked like it was the Hidden Falls with the three rainbows in front of it.
The table was set with wooden bowls and platters, bronze and bone cups and plates. Over a hundred young monks were seated around the table and they were chatting loudly. When the abbot entered the room with the twins, all their heads turned toward them and the room fell silent.
“We are a monastery devoted to finding the next generation of sacred oracles,” the abbot explained. “All of our students are studying the Buddhist arts of divination. That is how we came to expect your visit. I, myself, had a vision of your arrival.”
He gestured for Oliver and Celia to sit with him at the head of the table. There was a giant curtain behind them that made Oliver feel like they were on a stage, like they were actors in a big show.
After a moment, all the monks started talking to each other again. It didn’t feel like a stage anymore. It felt like a school cafeteria, with all the murmuring and the curious glances toward the twins. Kids at school glanced at them like that too, whenever they returned from some exotic country covered in bites from exotic lizards.
“Why do people keep looking at us?” Celia asked. She did not trust monks after Lama Norbu had turned on them. The boy from the cave seemed all right, though. He had gotten them out after all.
“We do not get many visitors here,” the abbot said. “We are hidden from the rest of the world.”
“Is this Shangri-La?” Oliver asked.
“All will be made clear to you,” said the abbot. He glanced nervously at the two large warriors standing right behind him. The abbot was making Celia nervous. “First, you should eat,” he added.
A gong sounded and servants appeared carrying giant iron pots. The abbot said a blessing and then all the young monks grabbed at plates covered in something like flour and dropped them into their steaming cups of butter tea, swirling the mixture until it became a wet paste. Then they grabbed the wet paste into clumps and popped the clumps into their mouths. Servants poured noodles and vegetables from the iron pots into wooden bowls, and the whole room filled with the sounds of slurping and sipping. Celia smiled widely. She was starving and hadn’t seen any fried bugs being served.
Suddenly, the servants appeared beside Oliver and Celia and set out steaming plates of noodles with bubbling blobs of meat.
“Just for you,” the abbot said. “White sheep’s tail. We are, of course, vegetarians here, but you are growing and need your strength. The tail of the white sheep is a special delicacy.”
The pinkish blobs of meat glistened in the sunlight. Celia squirmed. Oliver started to reach for the plate, because he was hungry, but Celia elbowed him under the table.
“If you eat it, then I have to eat it,” she said. “And I am not eating it.”
“You have no sense of adventure,” Oliver said.
“You sound like Dad,” answered Celia, and Oliver blushed. He hated to think he was turning into someone who liked adventures.
“Of course, if you prefer, we have steamed vegetables, noodles, barley flour, and dried yak’s tongue,” the abbot interrupted, trying to make the twins more comfortable.
Oliver’s eyes went wide thinking of the yak who had saved their lives. His stomach did a back-flip. Certainly they wouldn’t cook a mystical yak.
Nope, he thought, I am not turning into someone who likes adventures at all.
“Where’s your sense of adventure now?” Celia laughed. She thought how her parents would have loved this, sitting in a weird monastery on a mountaintop, watching everyone eat gooey butter-tea bread balls. The sounds of sipping and slurping made her stomach grumble.
“I told you.” She elbowed Oliver again. “I told you on the plane that this is exactly what would happen.”
“You said bugs,” Oliver snapped back. “You said we’d have to eat bugs. And there’s no bugs.”
“Curried yak’s eye?” the abbot offered gently, gesturing toward a bowl of reddish liquid with little slimy balls the size of marbles floating in it. Both children’s faces turned green. Celia had gone eleven years without eating an eyeball and she planned to keep it that way. Oliver just froze. He almost wished for bugs.
The abbot did not want to make his guests ill. He had two more bowls of noodles and vegetables placed in front of them and he waved the bubbling sheep’s tail, sizzling yak tongue, and steaming eye-curry away. The two warriors behind him immediately snatched it all from the servants and devoured the steaming meat with their bare hands. The abbot looked at the warriors with wide eyes.
“Something’s not right here,” Celia whispered.
“I know,” said Oliver. “Keep eating, though. Don’t make them suspicious.”
The twins focused on the noodles and soups and even tried dropping the flour into their tea to make little wet bread balls the way the other monks were doing.
It felt amazing pouring the warm food into their stomachs. The noodles were thick and hot and the broth was rich and soothing. Even the butter-tea bread balls were tasty and salty and filling.
“I could win Celebrity Whisk Warriors with this stuff,” Oliver said.
“You’ve never cooked anything in your life.” Celia laughed. This was the first rest they’d had in ages and for a minute they forgot about their mother and father and their long list of worries.
But they didn’t forget for long.
After only a few minutes, the abbot smiled and rose. The monks around the table fell silent again and stood up. Oliver and Celia stood too, even though they weren’t done eating, because they didn’t want to be the only ones not standing. The abbot seemed in a hurry.
“When in Somalia,” their father used to tell them, “do as the Somalis do.” The twins assumed the same lesson was true for Tibet.
“Now that you have eaten,” the abbot said, “I must talk to you about the important matters that brought you here.”
The twins looked at each other, wondering how much he knew.
“I am afraid,” the abbot said, “that you are in much more trouble than you know.”
“Well, we know that our father made a bet with Sir Edmund about the Lost Tablets of Alexandria, and that the Poison Witches took our father to try to get them, and that we are lost on a mountain in the middle of
nowhere in Tibet.”
“You are not nowhere,” the abbot corrected her kindly. “You are at the home of the sacred oracle. As for the other matters you mention, they are unfortunate.” The abbot sighed. “The witches are treacherous, but they can always be bargained with. They do love to trade.”
“We were supposed to trade the Lost Tablets with them.”
“I am afraid that will be impossible. There are no tablets.”
“We know,” Oliver objected. “But it’s the only way to save our father! Our mother’s note sent us here. The yak brought us here. Even that kid—Pehar something—helped us get here! There has to have been some point to it!”
Celia wanted to shush her brother, but she also wanted to hear what the abbot had to say.
“Who helped you?” the abbot asked, his face suddenly looking alarmed and glancing quickly at the large men behind him. Celia didn’t like it when a monk’s face looked alarmed. The last time that happened, Frank Pfeffer revealed his treacherous plans.
“Pehar Ghee-lap something,” Oliver said.
“Pehar Gylapo?”
“Yes,” Celia said. “That was it. That’s the kid we met in the cave.”
“We met him in the cave behind the Hidden Falls,” Oliver explained. “And he showed us the way to get here.”
“That is quite impossible.”
“That’s what he said,” Celia huffed.
“Why would we lie?” Oliver pouted.
“Well, children.” The abbot bent down to their level. His face showed great concern. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Pehar Gylapo is the Great Protector of Tibet. If what you say is true . . . if the Great Protector has chosen to help you, there may be hope yet. I will pray for you, but right now, I can do no more than that.”
“Um . . . why’s that?” Celia asked.
“Because of us!” a voice shouted, and the giant curtain behind them rose up into the ceiling. The twins spun around, startled.
There behind them, seated on a throne beneath a giant statue with many arms, was Sir Edmund, surrounded by a crowd of serious-looking men.
“They arrived while I was away,” the abbot said, standing up again. “They took control of the monastery and the oracle. I had no choice but to help them. I am sorry.”
“Welcome, Navels,” Sir Edmund hissed. He stood on his throne to look more intimidating. “So nice to see you again.”
“I’ve seen this sort of thing in a movie before,” Celia whispered. “It doesn’t go well for the good guys.”
“Well, I guess this is our showdown,” Oliver answered as all the monks rushed out of the dining hall and more large, heavy warriors marched in.
“I guess it is,” said Celia, because she liked to get the last word in.
Oliver just hoped it wasn’t her last word ever.
29
WE WONDER WHAT CELIA’S UP TO
SOME OF THE MEN around Sir Edmund wore the robes of Buddhist monks, others were in the black robes of priests, and some wore business suits. There was even a man in blue jeans and a T-shirt, with a baseball cap pulled low over his face. They all wore medallions around their necks with the image of a scroll locked in chains.
The abbot stepped back, mouthing another apology at the twins. He didn’t wear a watch, but he tapped his wrist and ran right out of that great room like he was late for an appointment. Two very large Tibetan guards wearing swords on their backs blocked the doorway after he left, so that the twins could not escape.
“I am impressed,” Sir Edmund said. “I did not expect you to survive this long on your own, nor did I believe you would make it here. I had expected someone else to walk through those doors.”
“Lama Norbu’s not even a lama,” Oliver said.
“No?” Sir Edmund laughed. “So you figured that one out, eh? The great Frank Pfeffer couldn’t even hide himself from Oliver and Celia Navel? Pathetic.”
“We know you were in cahoots with him,” Celia said defiantly. She’d heard the word cahoots on Animal Detectives. She thought it sounded like the kind of word that explained what criminals did. “We know you threw us out of the airplane and sent that yeti after us and got the Poison Witches to take our father!”
Some of the other members of the Council shifted uncomfortably.
The man in the T-shirt and baseball cap shouted “Aha!” and started typing a text message into his cell phone. Sir Edmund glared at him and he stopped texting.
“Well,” Sir Edmund said. “You are much more clever than I had thought. I am guilty as charged. The plan with the witches was to poison you and force your father to lead us here. The witches’ foolishness changed those plans, but you have done admirably in your father’s place. Though I must tell you that I didn’t have anything to do with throwing you out of the airplane.”
“You didn’t throw us from the plane?” Oliver muttered, confused. “If you didn’t get us thrown from the airplane, then who did?”
“I don’t think you want to know,” Sir Edmund said, and the entire Council chuckled.
“Where’s our father?” Celia demanded.
“He is safe for now. For one more day, at least.”
“Where is he?!” she yelled.
“My, oh, my. No need to shout, child. You really want to know?” Sir Edmund waved to one of the guards, who pushed aside the curtain over the room’s only window. In the distance, there was a jagged mountain peak, even higher than the mountain peak they were now on. “He is camping with the witches on top of the sacred mountain. Mortals fear to trespass on its slopes, so I promise you they will not be disturbed. In fact, I’ve placed plenty of guards around the mountain to make sure of it. And your old friend the yeti is up there too. She’s looking for her child, the baby yeti I captured, I imagine. I think that has put her in a bad mood. So if you have any ideas about rescuing your father, I would quickly forget them.”
“What do you want from us?” Oliver said. “There are no Lost Tablets.”
“I know there are no Lost Tablets, boy,” Sir Edmund snapped. “I destroyed them myself!” He shook his head and looked a Celia. “Was your brother dropped on his head as a child? Too much music television maybe?”
“We don’t have music television,” Oliver objected. “We don’t even have cable.”
“Children,” Sir Edmund sighed. “You aren’t making this very easy for me.”
“Let our father go,” Celia said, “and then we’ll do whatever you want. We’ll tell you what our mother’s note means. We’ll tell you everything we know.”
“You will?” Sir Edmund said.
“We will?” Oliver whispered at his sister.
Celia didn’t even look at her brother. She was trying her best to stare down Sir Edmund and hoping he wouldn’t notice that she was lying through her teeth.
30
WE DIDN’T PLAN FOR THE PLANE
“WE FIGURED OUT THE clues in our mother’s note,” Celia said, when the room fell totally silent. “We know all kinds of secrets. Now give us our father back or we won’t tell you anything!”
No one said a word.
Oliver looked from his sister to Sir Edmund and back to his sister again. She set her jaw tight. She was grinding her teeth, which she only did when she was really nervous. The room stayed deathly silent.
“Yeah!” Oliver finally shouted, more to break the tension than anything else.
“Oh, children,” Sir Edmund said, and sighed loudly. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to lie?”
“We’re not lying,” Oliver said, trying to defend his sister. He was pretty sure she was lying, though. She wouldn’t have figured out all kinds of secrets from their mother’s note and not told him, would she have?
Sir Edmund just shook his head and blew air out through his teeth. He sounded like a balloon deflating, and even from several feet away the twins recoiled at the smell of his breath. Even the other Council members looked uncomfortable.
“Unfortunately for you, there is absolutely nothing
I want from you,” Sir Edmund said at last. “There is nothing you can tell me or give me that I need. This is as close to Shangri-La as anyplace on earth, and there is no Lost Library here. There are no tablets. Right now, you are completely useless to me.”
All eyes in the room went back to Celia. Even Oliver was speechless.
“But . . . if you aren’t looking for anything . . . ,” Celia stammered. “Then why . . .”
“Why go through all this?” Sir Edmund said. “Because we are looking for something. Or rather, someone: your mother. We imprisoned the Oracle of Dorjee Drakden, but he wouldn’t tell us where your mother was. We couldn’t understand your mother’s clues in that note, but we very much wanted to find her after all these years. You see, while there are no Lost Tablets, I believe that she copied them before the Council was able to destroy them all. She has the only copy of the Catalog of the Lost Library.”
“You did all this for a library catalog?” Celia exclaimed.
“Oh, yes,” said Sir Edmund. “With that catalog, we would be very close to finding the Lost Library itself—all the knowledge in the world would be under our control. All that power! We couldn’t have your mother finding it and putting it in a museum, now, could we? We must find it first. We must destroy her copy.”
Celia couldn’t believe all this was happening. Everything had been a lie. This wasn’t about discovering something at all. It was about destroying their mother’s discoveries.
“I thought there was no better way to bring your mother out from wherever she was hiding than to put her family in danger. I was amazed she didn’t appear when you were attacked by the yeti. I was amazed she didn’t help with the Poison Witches or the waterfalls or Frank Pfeffer. I’m beginning to wonder if I made a mistake, if maybe your mother just doesn’t care about you at all.”
We Are Not Eaten by Yaks Page 15