by Liz Marsham
“Nope!” cried Zarya. She looked around for a hiding place, but the roc was almost on top of her. It drew in breath to fire. At this range, there was no way the ice would miss.
“Aaaaaaaaaaah!” Suddenly Doug came charging into the open. Bending down, he grabbed an apple from the spilled cart and, in a last-ditch attempt to distract the roc, chucked the fruit right at its huge head.
Em watched hopelessly as the apple arced through the air and impacted one blue feathered cheek with an almost inaudible bop. But the roc reared back in surprise, veering off course and smashing through a line of nearby kiosks. It choked on its ice attack and went into what seemed to be a coughing fit. Hacking in alarm, it careened through the square and crashed into the empty bandstand in the center.
Doug looked down at the apples, then up at the Mysticons. “It’s … allergic?” he guessed.
Jumping down off the cart, Zarya grabbed a stick of wood from the nearest broken stand. “I bet they can only be hurt by things from inside the puzzle.”
“Got it!” Piper ran over to a smashed barrel and pried three hoops free from the wood. “You are my new Hoopys,” she told the slightly misshapen bits of metal. “Make me proud.” She ran into a clear space and scanned the sky. “Who’s next? Lemme at ’em!”
Holding her stick, Zarya ran out to stand back-to-back with Piper, while Doug gathered up all the apples he could hold. Arkayna started to join them, but hesitated. She glanced at the sky, then at the chaotic marketplace. All around them, people were running for the cover of buildings, or cowering underneath whatever they could find out in the square.
Zarya caught her look. “We’ll draw their fire,” she yelled to Arkayna. “You and Em have the shields.”
Arkayna nodded resolutely. “We’ll get everyone out of here safely.” She turned to Em. “Let’s do this!”
As she spoke, the white roc, circling overhead, caught sight of Zarya and Piper. It wheeled around and plunged toward them.
“Here we go,” muttered Zarya, and she threw her stick like a spear. The wood parted the crest of upright feathers on the roc’s head, but had no other effect.
“Go! Go! Go!” Piper shouted after her hoops as she threw them. The roc lifted its head, and the first two hoops bounced off its neck. The third caught on one of its crest feathers and hung there, like an earring.
“Bugbears,” muttered Zarya. “What are we doing wrong?”
Rumbling low in its throat, the white roc opened its jaws and spat. A translucent glob flew out of its mouth and splatted over Zarya and Piper, coating them from head to toe.
“Uch!” Piper squealed. “Bird spit!” She reached up to wipe the goo out of her hair, and then froze as her right hand wouldn’t come away from her head. “Sticky bird spit!” She braced her left hand against her other wrist and, pulling as hard as she could, managed to get her right hand free.
“Oh no,” Zarya said. “It’s all over our feet. We have to move before it dries, or we’ll be stuck here!”
“Coming!” shouted Doug. He sprinted over to them, apples spilling from his pockets, and bent down to begin yanking at Zarya’s legs.
“RrrrrRRRR!” Piper tried her hardest to run, but it was like wading through molasses. “What kind of roc spits glue?” She shook her sticky fists at the sky. “You are not a fun game, birdie!”
Roaring in triumph, the white roc beat its wings and soared back into the air. Its red counterpart, sensing trapped prey, began to descend while making a coughing sound deep in its throat.
“Is that the one…” began Doug.
“That hacks up fireballs, yeah,” Zarya finished. “We gotta go!”
Meanwhile, Arkayna and Em were racing for the center of the square, where several people were sheltering in flimsy kiosks or underneath upturned wagons. They were all too scared to move, and the blue roc, pulling itself up from the wreckage of the bandstand, was going to notice them at any second. But as Arkayna and Em ran, the purple roc streaked down and thudded to the ground in front of the blue. It lowered its head to ground level and stretched its beak wide.
The two girls skidded to a halt. Arkayna held up her staff and Em put a hand to her pouch, preparing to counter whatever was about to come out of the purple roc’s mouth.
But nothing came out. Instead, the roc sucked in a huge breath … and kept inhaling. A sudden wind ripped through the plaza, blowing the coverings off of kiosks and causing loose bits of wood and debris to skate several feet toward the bandstand. The roc inhaled again, and Em heard a squeal and a shout of “Beryl!” Just to her left was a dwarven family sheltering in a pottery kiosk. The family’s little girl—Em assumed her name was Beryl—had lost her grip on her mother and was skidding, out of control, directly toward the vacuum of the roc’s mouth.
Arkayna began firing energy blasts from her staff at the roc, but they fizzled against its purple feathers.
“Doug!” That was Zarya’s voice. Em risked a glance behind her to see the crimson roc descending on Piper, Zarya, and Doug.
“Help!” Beryl was halfway to the purple roc now, frantically scrabbling at the ground to slow herself.
Em began to panic. Maybe she had been wrong all along. Maybe this wasn’t a puzzle. Maybe this was just a trap!
12
In Which Several Things Prove Mightier Than Swords
“Doug!” Zarya yelled. “Your apples! Quick!”
“Oh, man,” said Doug, straightening and reaching into a pocket. “Okay, if you say so!” He took aim and threw an apple at the approaching crimson roc.
Bap! The apple hit right between its eyes. The roc shrieked, and Doug threw again. This one hit the inside of its mouth, and its eyes widened in shock.
“Again!” Piper clapped her hands, then grunted in annoyance as they stuck together.
Doug continued to pelt the roc with apples, making it hiss in confusion, while Zarya and Piper worked to free themselves.
Back by the bandstand, Em pulled herself together. Trap or not, she told herself, puzzle or not, she was going to save all these people. Even if they were imaginary. “Armor out!” she shouted, tossing an orb at her feet. Her mech suit expanded around her, and she dashed toward the girl. Inches from the purple roc’s lolling tongue, Em snatched Beryl up and began pounding back toward Arkayna, the heavy suit protecting her from its suction breath. “Our offense doesn’t work!” she called. “Try defense!”
Arkayna nodded and fired again. This time a huge dome settled into place over the blue and purple rocs. The wind howling across the plaza cut off abruptly, just as Em reached Beryl’s family and handed her over.
“Oh, thank the stars,” said the father. “We thought she was—”
FWAM! CRACK! The two trapped rocs threw themselves against Arkayna’s forcefield, smashing it to pieces. The blue began to beat its wings, preparing to take off, while the purple opened its mouth again.
“Not this time!” cried Beryl’s mother. She picked up a pottery jug and hurled it at the purple. The jug smashed against the roc’s sharp beak, and the shards of pottery flew down its throat. It screeched in pain and began to wheeze.
“That’s right!” bellowed Beryl’s father. “And you!” He hefted a heavy mug in his hands, testing its weight, and then flung it at the blue. His aim was good, and the mug caught the roc in the chest. The blue squawked in protest, its wings faltering. Emboldened, the father charged forward. “Come on!” he said, beckoning to another couple sheltering under a wagon. “We can do this!”
Em looked at Arkayna in surprise as Zarya, Piper, and Doug came pounding up behind them. “We drove the red off for now,” Zarya panted. “Well, Doug did.”
“Doug’s the only one who can hurt them,” Piper added. “He’s got the magic apples.”
“And I’m almost out!” said Doug mournfully.
“It’s not the apples,” Em realized. “And you’re not the only one who can hurt them.” She looked around at the other girls. “We’re the only ones who can’t.”
�
�But, but,” Zarya protested, pointing at the people starting to mobilize against the rocs, “they’re going to get themselves killed!”
“You’re right,” said Arkayna. “They need our help. But they have to do the actual attacking.”
“Awwww,” complained Piper. “I wanna hit the monsters!”
“Arkayna’s right,” Em said. “This is about inspiring people, not doing everything ourselves.” She glanced over and noticed a few of the braver folks, Beryl’s mother and two merchants, advancing on the rocs in a line. “Wait, hold on!” she yelled, charging after them in her mech suit. “You’ve gotta use cover if you’re gonna do that!”
Zarya beckoned to a group of people huddled behind a stall of paintings. “Hey, everyone,” she said. “Let’s go over this way; we can get a good flank on them.” She took her group in a wide circle around the bandstand, darting from kiosk to kiosk.
Beryl’s father looked around for something else to throw. Noticing a cart full of rolled-up rugs, the dwarf grabbed one and started whipping it back and forth through the air like a club. He grunted in satisfaction, propped the rug on his shoulder, and faced the rocs again.
“Wait!” Doug ran up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. The dwarf spun, raising the rug threateningly. “No no,” Doug hastened to say, “we’re cool, man. I just want to give you this.” He held out a gray potion. “You looked like you wanted to charge right in there, so here. It’s Stone Skin. It’ll make you tougher and heavier, which”—he motioned to the blue and purple rocs, who were both readying to attack—“you know.”
The father nodded his thanks, then downed the potion. His grimace at the taste soon stretched into a grin as his skin crackled and hardened. He stamped the ground, and the flagstone under his foot split in two. “Ha!” he barked. Still chuckling grimly, he hefted his makeshift weapon and charged into battle.
The purple roc started to open its mouth, but it never had a chance. Swinging the rug wildly from side to side, Beryl’s father leaped and smashed the roc right in the face, then in the gut, then in the leg. The beast squealed in dismay under the onslaught, scrambling backward until it bumped into the blue roc. It looked over at the blue frantically and shook its head once. Then it flapped its huge wings and took off, wheeling until it was no longer in view.
A cheer went up from the square. But it was quickly drowned out by a roar as the white roc landed in the purple’s place. There were more monsters yet to beat!
Piper and Doug joined another group of people behind a baker’s stall. “Okay,” Piper told them, “these things seem to hate food. But you gotta aim for the squishy parts. Eyes, belly, inside the mouth, like that. Okay?”
Doug turned to one teenage human, who was staring out at the rocs, eyes wide, holding a slingshot in her hands. “Hi. I’m Doug. You any good with that?” he asked.
She looked down at the slingshot, then back up at Doug. “My name’s Sylvie. I use this at home to keep the birds off the wheat,” she said. “But…”
“Don’t worry,” said Doug, “I can help.” He handed her a bright green potion. “This is True Aim. Whatever you shoot, it’ll go where it’s supposed to.”
“Really?” At Doug’s nod, she drank the potion. A new sparkle seemed to come to her eyes, and she whispered, “Wow. Oh, wow. I can see everything.”
Doug handed her a biscuit. “Show me.”
Quickly, Sylvie loaded the biscuit into the slingshot and stood up from cover. The white roc looked right at her, and she froze.
“Squishies,” said Piper encouragingly. “You got this.”
Sylvie drew back the slingshot and fired. Like an arrow, the biscuit streaked across the square and hit—thunk—squarely in the middle of the white roc’s staring eye. The roc roared in pain.
“See?” cheered Piper. “Squishies every time.”
Arkayna saw the white roc was distracted and called, “Em, now!”
Em motioned her group forward, and Beryl’s mother and the two merchants ran out and stabbed at the white roc with makeshift spears. The blue looked over and, seeing what was happening, opened its beak to attack.
“Zarya!” shouted Arkayna.
A barrage of sticks and rubble arced toward the blue from the bandstand, where Zarya and her group had been hiding. The blue roc was pelted from behind and screamed in frustration. Together, the blue and white rocs took off and flapped away hastily.
“Three down!” Arkayna looked up at the sky, where the red and green rocs were forming up to dive. But seeing what happened to their friends, they thought better of their plan. Instead of attacking, they turned and fled. Arkayna laughed, “Make that five!”
But the battle wasn’t over yet. With a series of huge wingflaps, the giant black roc descended into the marketplace. It landed with a thud, tipped back its head, and let out a deafening screech. The force of the shout made everyone clap their hands to their ears.
And then the fear hit. It seemed to roll over them in a wave. Em started to sweat and felt her hands shaking. She tried to turn her head toward the roc and had to fight away her terror just to look at it. What was it about this roc? And then she realized, “This is magic! It’s a fear spell!” She looked around the square and saw everyone cowering helplessly. “It’s just a spell!” she shouted again. But, still, her voice quaked.
Em saw Arkayna take a deep breath, force herself to stand up straight, and open her mouth. But nothing came out. Arkayna cleared her throat and tried again. “I-is—”
“Arkayna!” Em called. “Look at us instead of the roc!”
Arkayna locked eyes with Em and smiled. “Is this bird serious?” she asked, her voice steadier. “You fought off beasts that spit fire! And ice! And poison! And now this thing thinks it can just scare you?” She jumped up on the nearest cart. “Fear is all this monster’s got!” she shouted, totally sure of herself now. She looked out over the square, making eye contact with Zarya, then Piper, then Doug, who all smiled up at her proudly. She grinned wildly and pointed at the crowd with her staff. “Let’s show it what WE’VE got!”
With a roar, the people surged forward to attack. The roc shrieked again, this time in fear itself. And as it did, everything went white.
13
In Which a Lock Opens and a Trap Closes
When Em’s vision began to clear, she saw that they were back in the Chillwaste. The mist that had swallowed them was rising up into the air, leaving them crouched in various positions around the chasm—except for Arkayna, who was striking a heroic pose astride a low rock. As they watched, the mist flew upward to the group of stars above. It seemed to cling to some of the stars and obscure them, making them fade back into the black night sky. The remaining stars were now clustered in a rough, long rectangle.
Piper craned her neck and tipped her head from side to side, trying to make sense of the stars that were left. “Is it … a snake?” she asked. “Maybe a sword?”
“I don’t think we’re supposed to know yet,” said Em. “It’ll probably get clearer after we deal with the next puzzle.”
“Oh, yeah, show us this unicorn!” Zarya said. “That sounded cool.”
“Sure, cool,” said Em. “And deadly. Cool and deadly. This way.”
As they began to retrace their steps to the ice sculpture of the original Mysticons, Arkayna put her hand on Doug’s shoulder. “That was nice work back there, with the rocs.”
Doug shrugged. “I didn’t really do that much.”
“What?!” cried Piper, leaping in front of him. She walked backward, looking up at him while ticking points off on her fingers. “You drove off the big red guy, and made that little girl’s father unstoppable, and made that girl Sylvie into a crack-shot sniper person, and you never panicked, not even once! I was counting!” She faced front again, just in time to avoid colliding with the ice sculpture. “Eep!”
“Piper’s right,” added Zarya. “You really stepped up. Everyone did.” She sighed. “I wasn’t really into the part where we had to put other pe
ople at risk, though.”
“I think it was more than that,” Em put in thoughtfully. “We weren’t just hanging back and letting them do the work for us.” She motioned to Zarya and Piper. “Each group needed different advice from us to make their attacks work.” She pointed to Arkayna. “And we all needed someone to coordinate us. If we hadn’t been willing to stay in the background, doing those things, the rocs would have won.”
“It was about doing what needed to be done instead of going for the glory,” Arkayna mused as they turned down the right-hand path, “and the first puzzle was about looking past the shiniest, most tempting thing.”
“For a bunch of cursed locks,” Piper said, “these sure are teaching us some heroic stuff.”
“Huh,” said Zarya, “that’s a good point.”
“It is, it really is,” said Arkayna. “I feel like we’re missing some—”
“Careful!” Doug cut her off. “Zappy unicorn is waking up!”
Em looked up at the unicorn looming out of the left-hand wall. Sure enough, its horn was starting to glow red again. With a grinding rumble, it slowly raised its gigantic head.
Just past the unicorn, the path took a sharp turn to the right. And on the far wall, facing Doug and the Mysticons, a huge wolf statue crouched, half-in and half-out of the stone. The claws on its front paw, each the size of Em, raked the ground as the wolf bared its teeth, exposing a shiny blue gem it held in its jaws.
“Go!” called Em. “I’ll cover you!”
Arkayna, Zarya, Piper, and Doug darted past Em and down the path, dodging the wolf’s paws as they crashed to the ground again. The unicorn’s horn fired its laser, and Em summoned her shield and braced herself. Still, she was shoved back as the laser connected. The unicorn tossed its head from side to side, firing its horn in short bursts. With each blast, Em was pushed toward the wolf’s sharp claws. She corrected her stance, but the impacts kept coming. Now her feet were sliding away from the wolf, but she was being forced toward the sharp corner where the path turned. Glancing behind her, she saw the corner was made of smooth, unbroken stone.