Peter and the Secret of Rundoon

by Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson

“He had better find it,” growled Zarboff.

  Peter inhaled, trying to get his breath back. He could still feel the warmth, but now it was only on one side of him, his right side. He felt as though his skin was burning; he wondered how Glotz and Zarboff could not feel it.

  Glotz was watching him closely.

  “Which way is it?” he said. “Which way is the Fall?”

  “That way,” said Peter, pointing to the right.

  “Good, good,” Glotz said. “We will start moving that way. You will fly ahead and locate the exact spot. It will be easy for you to see when you get closer. But you must not get too close. You must locate the Fall and fly back immediately to tell us where it is. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” said Peter.

  “If you are not back within an hour,” said Zarboff, “I will put Kundalini in the cage with your friends.”

  “But what if I…” began Peter.

  “Find it!” thundered Zarboff. “Now!”

  Peter took a step and launched himself into the slowly brightening sky. He rose about fifty feet and hovered for a moment, looking down at the cage containing his friends. He could see their pale faces looking up at him through the bars. He gave them what he hoped was an encouraging wave, then made his body horizontal and began swooping over the desert toward the source of the heat.

  The four pursuers were quite close now. Molly and George could hear their shouts and, when they turned around, see the fury on their faces.

  Molly glanced at the sky. The strange lights were gone. She had never seen anything like them, nor had George, who was an amateur astronomer. The lights had energized Tinker Bell, who had pointed at the sky and chimed a series of excited statements, giving up in disgust when it was clear that Molly and George did not understand her.

  The pursuers had also reacted to the lights, slowing down to point at the sky and yell to each other. For a moment Molly hoped that they would abandon the chase, but when the lights stopped, they resumed galloping at full speed. They were excellent riders, and they gained steadily. Molly saw now that each of the men had a sword. She wondered what they did in this country to camel thieves.

  The men drew closer, closer. Tink chimed constantly to the camel, but it was clearly overmatched. Molly was reluctant to turn around now, for fear that the next time she did, the men would be upon them. Ahead, the desert stretched endlessly into the empty distance, offering no help, no safety. The pursuers’ shouts grew more excited; they had their prey almost in hand, and they knew it.

  Molly felt something. It was a sensation of warmth at her throat—quite intense, almost painful. Her hand went under her robe, to her neck, to…

  The locket. She pulled it out; it was glowing. Tink was fluttering in her face, chiming something over and over.

  “Look out!” George yanked Molly forward. She felt something brush against her hair. She turned and saw one of the camel riders, who had drawn even with her and George. It was his sword she had felt; he was drawing it back for another strike. And he would have struck Molly this time, had not Tink, who made up in speed what she lacked in size, delivered a kick to his nose that made him yelp in pain and veer sideways, his blade harmlessly slicing the air.

  But he was coming right back, and his cohorts had now drawn alongside Molly and George as well. Tink was in Molly’s face again, chiming something and gesturing frantically toward…

  The locket! Of course! As Molly fumbled with the clasp while she balanced on the bouncing saddle, Tink bought her some time by zipping back and forth among the camel riders, fluttering in their faces and making a sound that their camels apparently found upsetting. But she could not stop all four at once, and it would not be long before one of their swords found its mark.

  Molly finally got the locket off her neck. “George!” she said. “Lean sideways!”

  “Why?” said George, eyeing the angry swordsmen on either side.

  “Do it!” shouted Molly, giving George a hard sideways shove with her left hand. George wisely obeyed, leaning out of the way. With her right hand, Molly flicked her locket open and dumped its contents onto the camel’s neck. Molly had not opened the locket since she had retrieved it months ago from under the bed in her room: it had wound up there during a struggle on the awful night when Ombra had kidnapped her mother. Thus, Molly did not know how much starstuff the locket contained. And she had no idea how much starstuff it took to make a camel fly. As she watched the glowing golden stream pour onto the camel, she desperately hoped it was enough.

  There were shouts from both sides, as the four pursuers, organized now, all lunged toward George and Molly at the same moment, their swords flashing out and striking…

  …air.

  One of the riders had thrust so hard that he fell sideways off his camel. The other three could only gape as Molly and George rose swiftly out of their reach on the back of what was, at that moment, the happiest camel there had ever been.

  Peter flew as fast as he could, which was very fast indeed. He had not flown for what seemed like weeks, and despite the unhappy circumstances, it felt good to once again have the wind streaming past his face and to see the ground racing beneath him.

  The fallen starstuff pulled him. He couldn’t see it yet, but he knew it was there because of the warmth, and also because he just knew. He swooped down to gain still more speed, then soared up high, coming over a huge dune that overlooked a valley.

  And there it was.

  He couldn’t actually see it, any more than he could see the sun at midday; its light was too bright to be viewed directly. But the fallen starstuff was there at the bottom of the valley, filling it with brilliance, turning the sand into gold for a mile and more in every direction. Peter leaned and turned left in a long graceful curve, getting his bearings, making sure he would be able to lead Glotz and Zarboff to this place.

  As he headed back toward the caravan, Peter tried to think only about James and the others. He was doing this for them; he had to do this for them. He tried not to think about the price that would be paid for saving his friends—the unimaginable glowing power in the valley behind him, which was about to be turned over to Glotz, to Zarboff, to the Others.

  To Ombra.

  Peter tried not to think about it, but it wasn’t easy.

  CHAPTER 38

  TINK’S IDEA

  HOW LONG DO YOU THINK we should stay up here?” said George.

  “The starstuff will wear off in time,” said Molly.

  “I know,” said George, looking down a bit nervously at the desert far below. “I’m just wondering what will happen if it wears off too quickly, with us all the way up here. We’ve left those men far behind; perhaps we should descend.” To the camel, he said, “Down! Down, camel!”

  The camel paid no attention. Tink, sitting between the camel’s ears, turned, and with an annoyed look, said something to George which he did not understand, but which definitely did not sound complimentary.

  “I think Tink is guiding the camel someplace,” said Molly.

  “I wish she’d tell us where,” said George.

  Tink made an exasperated face, then looked forward again. They flew in silence for ten more minutes, then Molly, looking down, said, “I think it’s wearing off.”

  George looked; she was right. The camel was descending—not too rapidly, but rapidly enough to make both George and Molly a bit nervous. The camel’s stomach was also making unhappy sounds. Tink began chiming into the camel’s ear. In response, it turned its head a bit to the right, putting them into a gentle turn. More chimes, and the camel straightened; Molly and George could see that they were going to come down near the top of an exceptionally large dune. From beyond the dune, Molly saw a glow in the sky—a light even brighter than the fast-rising desert sun. At the same time she saw it, she felt it.

  “Starstuff,” she said.

  “What?” said George. “Where?”

  “Ahead, there, that glow,” she said. “It’s starstuff. A lot of it.”
r />   “How do you know?”

  “Believe me: I know.”

  The camel, making odd noises, descended quite rapidly now. As it neared the dune, Tink urgently chimed something to it, and it leaned its head back hard, groaning with the effort. The descent slowed just enough, and the camel landed on the sand, stumbling a bit but maintaining its balance. As soon as it stopped, it went down on its knees and emitted a sigh that suggested it did not intend to rise anytime soon. That suited George and Molly; they quickly extricated themselves from the saddle and climbed down to the sand.

  Molly immediately set off up the dune, Tink alongside her. When they reached the crest, Molly gasped and shielded her eyes from the brilliant glow. She turned around, waving George away.

  “It’s here, in this valley,” she said. “There must be a massive quantity of it. We can’t get any closer.”

  “Do you suppose that’s why we saw those lights in the sky?” said George.

  “Must be,” said Molly. “It must have just fallen. All these years I’ve heard of starstuff Falls, and how much effort the Starcatchers have gone to, trying to find it. And now here it happens just a few miles from me.”

  “And from the capital of Rundoon,” said George.

  “Yes,” agreed Molly. “Quite a coincidence, this happening here.”

  “You don’t really think it’s a coincidence, do you?”

  “No,” said Molly. “Of course I don’t. I think the Others made it happen somehow.” She frowned. “Which means soon they’ll be along to collect it.”

  “Can we collect it first?” said George.

  “No,” said Molly. “We’d need special suits, gold ones, like the one Father had at Stonehenge. Nobody can get anywhere near that much starstuff. Except Peter, of course. He has survived it. But nobody else could.”

  Tink was in Molly’s face now, chiming something.

  “I’m sorry, Tinker Bell,” said Molly. “I don’t understand you.”

  Tink, rolling her eyes, did a slow pantomime. She pointed at herself, then she pointed over the crest of the dune toward the glow. Then she pointed at the empty locket around Molly’s neck.

  “I’m sorry, Tink, I don’t…”

  Tink impatiently repeated the pantomime; this time, at the end, she took hold of the locket and tugged on the chain.

  “She wants your locket,” said George.

  “Yes,” said Molly, “but wh…Ah, I see. She’s saying she can fly to the starstuff. It won’t hurt her.”

  Tink nodded encouragingly and tugged on the locket again.

  “Ah!” said Molly. “She wants to refill my locket with starstuff.”

  Tink beamed.

  “All right,” said Molly, unclasping the locket and handing it to Tink. “I suppose it can’t hurt. But I’m not sure what good it will do us. You can take only a tiny amount; there will still be…”

  But Tink, clutching the locket in her tiny hands, was already gone.

  CHAPTER 39

  AN UGLY SMILE

  PETER, FLYING WELL ABOVE THE DUNES, saw a line of dark dots crawling across the endless sand. The caravan! He angled his body downward. Two minutes later he was alighting next to the cage that held his friends.

  Zarboff occupied the throne set atop the carpet in his carriage. A guard stood next to him, holding an umbrella to protect the king from the sun. Aside from the throne, there was nowhere to sit in the carriage, so Viktor Glotz lay sprawled on the carpet. He leapt up when Peter landed.

  “Did you find it?” he asked eagerly.

  “It’s that way,” Peter said, pointing.

  “How far?” said Zarboff.

  Peter thought about it. “Eight miles,” he said. “Or nine. You’ll follow this valley between the dunes.”

  “Good,” said Zarboff. He clapped his hands and barked an order in the Rundoon language. Peter felt strong hands grab both of his arms. Two soldiers dragged him roughly toward the wagon carrying the cage that contained James and the others.

  “You don’t need to do this,” Peter shouted to Zarboff. “I made a promise, and I’ll keep it! I won’t try to escape.”

  “No,” said Zarboff. “You won’t.”

  The guards opened the cage door and shoved Peter inside. The door clanged shut. James, Thomas, Prentiss, and Tubby Ted barely acknowledged Peter; they looked hot, tired, listless.

  “They’ve given us no water,” said James. “None at all.”

  Sitting in the back of the wagon, next to the pile of golden suits, were Slightly and the other slave boys, looking not much better than the boys in the cage. Peter and Slightly exchanged a look; Peter thought he detected pity in the other boy’s face. Peter started to say something, but Slightly, nodding toward the guards, shook his head.

  Orders were shouted, and the caravan started up again, moving slowly across the desert, toward the starstuff. From his shaded throne in the front, Zarboff turned around and looked back. His eyes found Peter’s. Then he reached out his hand and, smiling an ugly smile, patted the basket containing his snake.

  CHAPTER 40

  A VOICE IN THE SKY

  WHATEVER TINK WAS DOING with Molly’s locket, it was taking her quite a while. George and Molly grew increasingly hot and thirsty as they sat on the sand, trying to get some shade from the camel.

  “What do we do when she gets back?” said George. “Make the camel fly again?”

  “I don’t know,” said Molly. “We need to find Maknar, because that’s where Father was going, and that’s where Peter is. But I don’t know how far it is, or which direction. I’m hoping Tink will take us there.”

  “What about the starstuff?” said George, nodding toward the glow at the crest of the dune, still brighter than the desert sun.

  “We need to tell Father about that,” said Molly. “He’ll want to…Here comes Tink!”

  Tink was streaking over the crest of the dune, clutching the locket, which she dropped into Molly’s waiting hands. The locket felt warm; Molly could sense the power it contained.

  “Thank you, Tink,” she said. “Now we need to get to Maknar as qu—”

  Tink interrupted with a burst of chimes, shaking her head urgently.

  “What?” said Molly. “You don’t want us to go to Maknar?”

  Tink nodded vigorously.

  “But why not?” said Molly.

  Tink pointed toward the crest of the dune. She made a soft chiming sound, pointed to her own heart, and then pointed to Molly’s heart.

  “Oh,” said Molly. “I see.”

  “What is it?” said George.

  “It’s Peter,” said Molly, her face brightening. “He’s close.”

  They were within two miles of the starstuff now; Peter could feel it and could see the radiant glow ahead, turning the blue sky nearly white. The caravan had skirted around the huge dune from which he had viewed the starstuff Fall; it now towered over them, to the right. Ahead, in the valley, lay the starstuff.

  The caravan kept moving until the glare became too bright for it to continue. There it stopped, and under Glotz’s supervision, the soldiers unstrapped the gold-hinged chest from the camel and lowered it to the ground. Glotz then came back to the wagon carrying the boys, both caged and uncaged.

  “Put on the suits,” he said.

  With no enthusiasm, Slightly and three of the other slave boys picked up the gold-mesh suits and began putting them on. One suit was considerably larger than the others; Glotz put this on himself. He checked the boys’ suits to make sure that they had their headpieces fastened tightly, with no open seams at their necks. They now looked like strange golden beings, their faces covered with fine gold mesh.

  “You will keep your suits on until I tell you to remove them,” said Glotz. “If you remove them any sooner, you will die. Do you understand?”

  The four gold-covered heads nodded.

  Glotz led them over to the trunk, which was sitting on the sand next to the camel. Glotz unlatched it and opened the lid; Peter could see that, as he
suspected, the trunk was lined with gold. Glotz reached inside and lifted out two small golden shovels. He inspected these, nodded, and put them back into the trunk.

  “Pick it up,” he said to the boys. They lifted the trunk, grunting at the formidable weight.

  “Oddly enough, it will be lighter once it is full,” said Glotz, chuckling at his own statement. He turned toward Zarboff and said, “We should be back within the hour.”

  Peter watched through the bars until the tall, gleaming figure of Glotz disappeared into the brilliant glow of the valley, with the golden-garbed boys trudging behind, carrying the chest. His attention then shifted to Zarboff, who was directing his men to remove the throne and carpet from his carriage and carry them back toward the wagon. They unrolled the carpet onto the sand next to the cage containing Peter and the others, and they set the throne down on top of it, facing the boys. Zarboff then sat on the throne. The guard with the umbrella stood behind, shading him.

  Zarboff looked at the boys for a few moments, his eyes lingering on Peter. Then he clapped his hands and said something in the Rundoon language. Two soldiers trotted over to the king’s carriage. As the boys watched in horror, they picked up the big basket and carried it over to the carpet, setting it next to the king. He reached out his hand, resting it on the basket lid, gently drumming his fingers, clearly enjoying the look on the boys’ faces.

  Then he began to whistle. The basket lid lifted.

  Peter, struggling to sound calm as the enormous head emerged from the basket, said, “You told me if I came back, you wouldn’t hurt my friends.”

  “No, stupid boy,” said Zarboff. “I said if you didn’t return, I would feed your friends to Kundalini. And I would have. It just so happens that I planned to do the same thing whether you returned or not.”

  “But that’s not fair!” pleaded Peter.

  “Fair?” sneered Zarboff. “Do you think it matters to me what is fair?”