by Brandon Mull
Part of the poem came back to her:
In the end if you reflect
The rod you will detect
That wasn’t exactly right. But it was close. Could it be so simple? There was no way. Her idea was absurd. Kendra did not want to touch the whispery water to test her theory. What if it gave cooties to her soul?
But the reflection seemed nearer than it should be. And the way to the rod was so far and difficult. And the dwarf seemed to like tricks.
Keeping her head low, Kendra reached out into the pool and grabbed the reflection of the rod. Feeling tangible wood in her grasp, she removed it from the pool. And the rod at the far end of the pool was no longer there.
Forgotten
“You made that one look easy,” Humbuggle said from off to one side.
Kendra jumped, nearly dropping the staff, and turned to face the dwarf. “Where did you come from?”
“I’m never far,” Humbuggle said. “What’s the fun of a contest unless you watch the competition?”
“You made this contest?” Kendra asked.
He gave a little bow. “Guilty as charged.”
“Why?” Kendra asked.
He looked at her as if puzzled. “My dear girl, everything in this life is a contest. Finding food, shelter, the basic necessities. Endeavoring to thrive. Winning the positions and prestige you desire. Acquiring your needs and wants. Pleasing friends and besting enemies. At least my contest is fair.”
“What’s fair about everyone getting turned to gold or silver?” Kendra asked.
“Most contests get won by the strongest or the fastest or the wisest,” Humbuggle said. “I get tired of the biggest sword or the sharpest fangs prevailing in every fight! Who wants the most powerful wizard to always take the spoils? I created a space without magic, a competition where the best fighter won’t necessarily win. Other virtues are just as important here, like cooperation, and cleverness, and courage, and sacrifice. The biggest prize I know of is on the line, and anyone has a chance to win.”
“Not everyone had the same advantage,” Kendra said. “Seems like the no-magic condition doesn’t apply to you. And the three brothers had the gloves and got to hear the rules.”
“The contest was originally designed for them,” Humbuggle said. “The gloves were indeed an advantage. And yet those three remained stuck on the first phase of the trial for centuries. I’m flattered when my challenges are difficult, but even I was getting a touch impatient. As for the rules, everyone gets to hear them.”
“We didn’t get to hear,” Kendra said. “We had to talk to, um . . .” She didn’t want to tell him about Augie.
Humbuggle jumped and spun. When he landed, he looked exactly like Augie. “I gave you the first poem, didn’t I?” He sounded just like Augie too.
“That was you?” Kendra exclaimed.
Augie leaped and spun. When he landed again, he was a thin old woman. “The dragons met me. I went by the name of Elouise and told them the basics and the poem.” The old woman jumped and twirled, becoming Humbuggle again. “Everyone got a fair chance.”
“You’re sneaky,” Kendra said.
“Young one, you have no idea,” Humbuggle replied.
Kendra looked to Celebrant and Obregon. They were still moving away from her, still about a third of the way to the far end of the pool. “They may not be able to see that the rod is missing for a long time.”
“It would already be a long way back for them indeed,” Humbuggle said. “However, the Banishment Rod is what powers this room. Once the rod leaves the room, this chamber will begin to collapse to its actual dimensions for everyone still inside.”
“How long would it have taken them to make it to the rod the way they are going?” Kendra asked.
“At their present speed?” Humbuggle asked. “More than eight thousand years. And there is nothing to eat on the way.”
“How long would it take them to get back if I were to leave the rod here?” Kendra asked, wondering if she could buy time to solve the next challenge, then return for the rod later.
Humbuggle gave her a sly grin. “That I cannot reveal, as it could give you an advantage. I will share that you cannot move to the next phase of the contest unless you take the rod with you.”
“What does the rod do?” Kendra asked.
“I’m willing to explain,” Humbuggle said. “The Banishment Rod can send a single target extremely far away. It is rigged to do so only once. Take care how you use it—
I do not believe the contest can be won without it. To keep the game fair, I will confess that the Wizenstone is jealously guarded by a powerful demon. Any who seek to claim the stone would have to ward off the demon before long.”
“How do I use the rod?” Kendra asked.
“Simple,” Humbuggle said. “Just extend the rod toward the target and cry, ‘Begone!’”
“And the target will be sent away,” Kendra said.
“Use it carefully,” Humbuggle said. “The rod will work only once for a single contestant. Are you ready to go?”
“Sure,” Kendra said.
Humbuggle clapped his hands, and a secret door opened in the wall. Kendra saw stairs beyond.
“The others will be able to follow me?” she asked.
“In due time,” Humbuggle replied. “As I said, once you leave with the rod, the room will start to return to normal.”
“Can you give me any hints?” Kendra asked.
“Once you reach the top, I can bestow the next poem,” Humbuggle said. “Off you go.”
After a final glance at Celebrant and Obregon still running without progress toward the far side of the room, Kendra went out the doorway and started up the stairs. To her relief, they were well lit and completely dry.
Seth backed away from a trio of silver statues who were getting near. It was easy to see them moving now, but they were still quite slow. Enough statues had converged on the courtyard that he, Lockland, and Lomo needed to stay alert.
“Behind you, Lockland,” Seth said.
The prince glanced over his shoulder and moved a few paces sideways. “I haven’t been vulnerable since this game began. Tregain chose first and got the silver glove. Heath chose next and it turned out to be gold. Platinum fell to me. All the gloves looked the same at the start.”
“It’s getting hard to stay near the fountain,” Lomo said. “They might be slow, but the numbers keep increasing.”
Seth estimated there were sixty gold statues in the courtyard now, and maybe fifty silver ones. More were gradually emerging from the castle.
“Don’t let them form a ring around you,” Lockland said. “And don’t forget that they keep moving faster. Unless of course you want to end the suspense and rest. Getting turned to gold might serve just as well as the Quiet Box.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Seth said. “We have to keep the Wizenstone away from the dragons. It’s going to be tough. We need all the help we can get.”
“Seth is right,” Lomo said. “You could make a big difference.”
“I’ll try,” Lockland said. “At least the challenge is moving forward. I had lost hope that the day would come when the three coins would enter the fountain together.”
“Guys!” Kendra called, emerging from the castle holding a rod slightly taller than her. “I got the Banishment Rod.”
“Where’d you come from?” Seth called, running toward her with Lockland and Lomo, leaving the fountain and the majority of the statues behind.
“I came up a different stairway,” Kendra said. “It led to a secret door in the throne room.”
“What comes next?” Seth wondered.
“So glad you asked,” Humbuggle said, appearing between Kendra and the three males. “I have a poem that might shed some light on the next phase.”
“Let’s hear it,” Kendra said. “T
he dragons may not be far behind.”
To reach the storied stone of yore
You shortly must unlock a door
Those who dare may seek the key
Without the aid of memory
Plant the staff where five halls join
All can proceed without a coin
Those who advance may soon regret
The many things they will forget
“Happy hunting,” Humbuggle said, jumping with a clap and disappearing before his feet returned to the ground.
“We have to hurry,” Kendra said. “The dragons are coming.”
“Follow me,” Lockland said. “There is only one place in the castle where five halls join.”
Seth raced behind Lockland through a door into the castle. As they ran, Kendra explained about the Banishment Rod and the demon that would try to reclaim the Wizenstone after someone took possession of it. When they found statues in a hall, they ran by them, but not casually. Seth knew a single touch would turn him to silver or gold, and, though still slow, the statues were gradually picking up their pace.
“How many things do you think we have to collect?” Seth asked.
“What do you mean?” Kendra replied.
“First coins, then the rod, now a key,” Seth said.
“Sounds like the stone is behind a locked door,” Kendra said. “Maybe the key is the last item.”
Lockland stopped when they reached a small atrium on a high level of the castle, the ceiling open to the sky. Five corridors intersected around a curbed area of soil where several shrubs were growing. In the center of the shrubs was a flagpole supporting a blue flag emblazoned with a white lion.
“Here we are,” Lockland said.
Seth checked down the branching hallways but saw no statues yet. “Where do we plant the staff?”
“Maybe in place of the flag,” Lomo suggested. “See if it fits.”
Lockland removed the flagpole, and Kendra plunged the Banishment Rod into the vacant socket. With a gentle rumble, a section of a wall slid aside, revealing a black door.
“Good guess,” Kendra told Lomo.
“What now?” Lockland asked.
“I can go in,” Kendra offered.
Seth looked at the black door. Kendra had already risked her life once. It was time for him to step up. “No. It’s my turn. I’m the youngest. I have the fewest memories to lose.”
“We all want our memories,” Kendra said.
“I’ve got this one,” Seth said. “With or without memories, I have great instincts.”
“We could all try it,” Lomo suggested. “The poem set no limit.”
“But we can’t all lose our memories,” Seth argued. “Somebody has to stay out here in case those who go in forget what is going on.”
“Good point,” Kendra said.
“Let me go,” Seth said. “Once I’m inside, replace the flagpole and take the staff someplace safe. Maybe that will keep the dragons from catching up and following me.”
“Sound plan,” Lomo said. “I’ll go with Seth. Lockland, can you protect Kendra?”
“I’ll try,” Lockland said.
The noisy splash of a gong reverberated from elsewhere in the castle. Seth looked at Kendra with wide eyes.
“Somebody new has arrived,” Lockland said. “This is quite a night. Nobody in decades, and suddenly the arrivals keep coming.”
“Sounds like just one,” Seth said as the shimmering of the gong faded.
“We should hurry,” Lomo said. “We may have even more company soon.”
“Could it be a friend?” Seth asked.
“I doubt it,” Kendra said. “I don’t know of anybody else on our side who knew about this. Maybe another dragon. Emergency backup.”
Lomo patted Seth’s shoulder and trotted toward the door. Seth followed.
“Be careful, Seth,” Kendra said.
“I’ll try to remember that,” Seth replied with a smile. “Hopefully when I get the key I’ll still know to bring it back here.”
“Maybe you won’t forget too much,” Kendra said.
“Does it seem like that kind of castle?” Seth asked.
Lomo opened the door, but nothing was visible beyond the threshold. The light from the atrium could not penetrate the darkness.
“Not comforting,” Seth said.
“In we go,” Lomo replied, stepping forward and vanishing into the blackness.
Embarrassed that he had let Lomo go first, Seth quickly followed. A slight tingle sparkled across his body as he stepped through the veil of blackness. On the far side he found himself in a fairly large room illuminated by glowing globes. A black rectangle in the wall marked where he had come from, though strangely Seth could not recall what lay on the other side. An enormous pair of bronze doors was centered in the opposite wall, each embossed with a large, bearded face.
Two men already stood in the room. A handsome man with a dark complexion and an artistically sculpted goatee glanced back at Seth from only a couple of paces away. A wiry, older man, shirtless, with protruding ribs, waited over by the bronze doors. He faced Seth and the goateed stranger with excitement.
“Tell me what you remember,” the man asked. “Why did you come here?”
Seth opened his mouth to answer before realizing that he wasn’t sure. He glanced at the man with the goatee, who was scowling in thought.
“I have no idea,” the goateed man said.
“Me neither,” Seth replied.
“You came in together,” the old man prompted. “Seconds apart. Any memory of one another?”
Seth studied the man with the goatee. Nothing about him seemed remotely familiar.
“Should I know you?” the man asked.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” Seth said.
“I’m Lomo,” the man said. “Of the Fair Folk.”
“Seth Sorenson,” Seth said. “Of the Sorensons.”
“And I’m Pietro,” the old man said. “I’m also unsure why I’m here.”
“YOU ARE HERE TO COMPETE FOR THE TROPHY,” the face in the left door thundered.
“WE WILL AWAIT ANY OTHER PARTICIPANTS AND BEGIN MOMENTARILY,” the face in the other door said.
“I’m here for a trophy?” Seth asked. The idea didn’t sound familiar. Then again, nothing else seemed familiar either. He knew who he was. But he couldn’t remember much of his past, any of the people he knew, or what he might be doing here today. Was he alone in the world? As he pondered, he could almost bring up memories of some people. He felt sure he had a family. But faces and names refused to come into focus.
“Remarkable,” Lomo said. “I feel certain I have a life, but I’m at a loss for specifics.”
“I get your meaning,” Pietro said. “Same for me. What about you, Seth Sorenson?”
“Same,” Seth said. “My whole life feels on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t remember details.”
“I’d be tempted to scoff except I feel the same way,” Lomo said.
A newcomer emerged from the black rectangle in the wall—a stocky man, well dressed and with a silver glove on one hand. He looked perplexed.
“Quick,” Lomo said. “Why are you here?”
The man looked from Lomo to Seth to Pietro. “What happened to me?”
“You remember yourself,” Seth prompted.
“I’m Tregain,” the man said. “Otherwise . . . I’m at a loss.”
Seth, Lomo, and Pietro made their introductions and explained they were apparently about to compete for a trophy. The faces on the doors remained silent.
Seth tried to gauge the unremembered men. Was it possible he knew all of them? None of them? They seemed pleasant enough, but if they were all trying to win the same trophy, they were his competition. Maybe even enemies? Or was it a friendly contest? H
ow could his memory be gone?
Another man burst through the black rectangle, then doubled over, hands on his knees, panting. He had a beard and long hair and wore some armor, but he carried no weapon. It seemed like he had been running.
“What’s your name?” Seth asked.
The man straightened and looked around. “Obregon,” he said in a strong voice.
“Why are you here?” Lomo asked.
Obregon folded his arms and brooded before answering. “I have no idea.”
Once again, introductions were made. Seth kept an eye on the black rectangle, wondering who might come through next. He tried to guess at the stories of the people already in the room. Seth wore a sword, and Lomo was the only other person with a visible weapon, a sword as well. Lomo was so well groomed that he looked less like a real adventurer and more like a guy who played an adventurer in a show. Pietro could have been an old marooned guy from a desert island. Obregon seemed like a warrior, with a face that had probably absorbed a punch or two. Tregain came across as a lord.
Seth could not guess how he had ended up competing against these men for a trophy. He seemed out of place with a bunch of adults. He didn’t think he was related to any of them, but it was hard to be sure with his memories so unfocused.
“THE COMPETITION WILL NOW BEGIN,” the face on the left door uttered.
“THE FIRST THROUGH THE GAUNTLET TO THE TROPHY IS THE VICTOR,” the face on the right door pronounced.
“ENTER THE GAUNTLET AT YOUR OWN RISK,” the face on the left door warned.
“SELECT ANY WEAPON OF YOUR CHOOSING,” the face on the right door encouraged.
“ONLY ONE CAN TAKE HOME THE PRIZE,” the face on the left door intoned.
“WHEN THE DOORS OPEN, ALL MAY PROCEED,” the face on the right said.