Bridgette sighed, concerned. They both sat in silence for a minute, listening to the fighting in the other room. It sounded like the skinny one had won, because other than some loud crashing noises, no other sounds came from Rottnose.
Suddenly Bridgette’s face lit up. Edward watched as she unslung the bow she’d been carrying over her shoulder and took three arrows from the quiver at her belt. She’d been wearing them since they left Cornelius’s Valley, but hadn’t needed to use them yet.
“I’ve got an idea,” she whispered as she strung the bow and nocked an arrow. Edward followed her back to the entrance of the big stone room.
“Are you sure you know how to use that thing?” Edward asked doubtfully. He’d never seen Bridgette use any kind of weapon.
Bridgette smiled. “I took two years of archery in my Physical Education classes back on Earth. The coach said I was a natural.”
Edward had to admit that she looked comfortable handling the bow as she raised it and pulled the string back to her cheek. The skinny Groundling had his back to them and was kneeling over the fallen body of his opponent.
Just don’t miss, Edward thought. He didn’t know if he could use his father’s ring to defend them if she did. The voices in his head were so loud he could barely concentrate.
The bowstring gave a sharp TWANG!and the arrow sped away. Edward watched with a sinking feeling as it sped wide of its target. Then, to his surprise, he realized that Bridgette hadn’t been aiming for the Groundling’s back at all. The arrow thudded into the wall opposite them, neatly severing a thin rope that held a twisted iron chandelier suspended from the ceiling.
The Groundling named Charlie barely had time to register what was happening. With a huge CRASH!, a spiderlike mass of candles and twisted metal landed on him. The Groundling fell to the floor, pinned in place by the heavy chandelier.
“Great shot!” Edward shouted. Bridgette beamed back at him. The triumphant voices of the Four faded a little in intensity, settling to a discordant murmur in the back of his head.
Edward dashed into the chamber, navigating around the unconscious body of Rottnose, and removed the ring of keys from the jailer’s belt. Charlie stared up at Edward with a curious expression. Edward looked at him and was surprised to see something other than hatred on the Groundling’s face. He looked to Edward as if he were contemplating something. Then he chuckled and said, “A joke it is, a very good joke. Old Jackal sends his Groundlings out, but the Bridge Builder comes in!” A raspy sound that Edward assumed was laughter escaped from the skinny Groundling.
Edward stared at him, not saying anything. After his chuckling subsided, the Groundling continued, “Scruggs would love to squeeze your skinny neck, boy, and squeeze it good. But ol’ Charlie don’t like Scruggs much. No. Negatory.”
The Groundling’s eyes flashed with hatred. “Charlie does what he likes, yes he does. Don’t obey no law but his own. Not even the Jackal’s!”
“Edward, we should go,” Bridgette said nervously. “He’s just trying to distract us, to keep us here so that we’ll be discovered.”
Charlie gave Bridgette a horrible smile. “Clever girl! She thinks like Charlie Hoof. But she’s wrong, she is. Ol’ Charlie don’t want to keep you from getting to the porcupine man, no siree! Charlie Hoof is gonna help you!”
“What’s this?” Edward demanded. His eyes narrowed as he studied the wiry Groundling. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Charlie has his reasons. One is, Charlie don’t like Scruggs much at all. No. Negatory. And the other, well . . .” He paused, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue. Then he finished, saying, “. . . let’s just say Charlie owes Melchior. Charlie has a few regrets, he does. Something from a long time ago, when Charlie was beautiful, yes, he was. Melchior helped him, but it was too late for poor Charlie . . .”
The Groundling drifted off, looking as if he were remembering something from long ago. Edward was about to ask what Charlie meant when suddenly there was the sound of pounding footsteps in the empty tunnel behind them. Bridgette shot him a terrified expression. It was the unmistakable shuffling footfalls of a troop of Groundlings.
“Out the door and to the left. Then left, right, left. Last door you’ll find your daddy, boy. Find your daddy and tell ’im he and ol’ Charlie is square. No more debt for old favors. No. Negatory.”
Edward didn’t know if Charlie was telling him the truth. He could easily be sending them directly to the Jackal himself. But somehow he sensed that wasn’t the case.
“Thanks,” Edward said, acknowledging the Groundling with a nod. Charlie didn’t say anything, but offered him a horrible, sharp-toothed grin.
Edward hurried out the door after Bridgette, the rapidly approaching Groundling soldiers hot on their heels.
Chapter Fourteen
REUNION
The Jackal’s dungeon was a sprawling maze of corridors, each lined with what seemed like hundreds of barred doors. Without Charlie’s directions, Edward and Bridgette would have had no hope of finding Melchior.
Left, right, left,Edward thought, turning down the long corridors as Charlie had directed.
After several minutes of running, he came to the cell Charlie had mentioned. It was unlike the other cells, which had bars for doors. This one was covered completely by a big, iron door.
His heart trembling in his chest, Edward fumbled through the keys, searching for one to open the lock. On the third try, the key turned with a satisfying thunkand the door swung open. Edward’s elation at finding his father gave way to horror as he saw what he had become.
Mr. Spines hung limply from a set of rusted chains. His face was bruised and his breathing ragged. One of his shriveled, batlike wings was gone, and although he still had the other, there was no doubt that he was dying.
Edward rushed forward, shoving keys into the rusted manacles until he found one that fit. “What have they done to you?” he said, his voice choked with sobs. The manacles clicked free and Edward caught his father’s small form as he fell forward. Calling to Bridgette, he indicated the rough stone bench in the corner and said, “Help me lay him down.”
Bridgette grabbed Mr. Spines’s feet and they carried him to the dirty bench. He lay there unmoving, his jaw hanging open, gasping for air.
Edward looked around frantically, hoping to find some water. He spotted a small jug in the corner and hoped that whatever was inside was okay to drink.
To his relief, it was filled with water. It wasn’t very fresh, but it seemed okay. Edward took the water back to his father and, cradling his head in his lap, dribbled a little of it down his throat.
Mr. Spines choked down some of the water and seemed to revive a little. He turned to Edward and smiled weakly at him, revealing rows of crooked, yellow teeth.
Edward gazed down at his father, overcome with grief.
“I’ll go outside and watch the door,” Bridgette said quietly.
Edward didn’t even hear her go. All he could think was that he was with his father. Somehow he’d found him in this horrible place. As Mr. Spines gazed up at him, even the horsemen’s voices couldn’t push through. Edward’s eyes glassed over with unshed tears as he gazed down at his father’s tortured body.
“How did you get inside?” Mr. Spines croaked.
Edward showed his father the key that Cornelius had given him.
Mr. Spines’s eyes widened a little when he saw it. “The Finding Key,” he whispered.
“It opened a hole in the force field,” Edward said. “We f-found the keyhole in a tree.”
Mr. Spines smiled at his son. After coughing weakly, he said, “This key is a priceless treasure. It can create its own keyhole wherever a Guardian has need of one. I knew that Cornelius would help you . . .”
Mr. Spines trailed off as a coughing fit shook his entire body. After several moments, he caught his breath and let out a long, shuddering gasp. Edward could tell that his father wouldn’t last much longer. His prickly face was chalky white and he
could barely muster enough strength to speak.
Edward gazed down at him, wanting more than anything to tell his father how sorry he was for the way he’d treated him. When he’d first discovered who Mr. Spines was, he’d thought him horrible and ugly. He hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near him. But since then, he’d realized the tremendous price his father had paid to try to protect him and his mother. Edward understood difficult decisions. After all, hadn’t he left his father behind to be captured by Whiplash Scruggs? Yes, Melchior had made some terrible mistakes, but he had made them out of love, and all was forgiven now.
Mr. Spines seemed to know what Edward was thinking. He slowly raised a small, calloused hand to Edward’s cheek and patted it gently.
Warm tears cascaded down Edward’s cheeks. The two of them sat together for several minutes, neither one saying anything. Finally Edward broke the silence, asking the question that had burned in him ever since he’d entered the Woodbine.
“Do you know where Mom is?”
Mr. Spines motioned for Edward to help him sit up. Edward did so, propping his father up against the wall. It took several moments for Mr. Spines to find the strength to speak. The effort of moving seemed to sap what little energy he had left. Finally he found the strength to talk and rasped, “She’s . . . not far . . . Jailer said she’s . . . in deepest prison . . . near Jackal’s throne . . .”
Edward nodded. “Ch-Charlie the jailer? H-he helped us f-find you. S-said to tell you something like, the debt he owes y-you is r-repaid.”
Mr. Spines coughed for a few seconds and then smiled weakly. “Charlie did . . . bad things . . . but all’s forgiven now . . .”
“So Mom is c-close, then?” Edward’s heart leaped in his chest. After all this time, all this searching, he was finally close to finding her!
But his joy was cut short. As if from nowhere, the voices of the Four reasserted themselves. Their cries rang in his ears and Edward gasped, clutching his temples.
Mr. Spines weakly gripped his son’s shoulder. “What’s . . . wrong, Edward?”
Edward rocked back and forth, trying to quell the searing headache and screeching voices.
Pathetic! Weak! Even if you find her, you’ll never free her! You’ll see, Edward Macleod. You’ll see! You’ll never win! She’s the Jackal’s now! Nothing you can do! The voices cackled with amusement.
“Stop!” Edward cried out.
“Edward!” Mr. Spines said, rallying his strength. “What’s happening?”
“V-voices . . .” Edward managed. “Horsemen’s voices . . .”
Mr. Spines’s eyes lit up with understanding. Continuing to grip his son’s shoulder as tightly as he could, he said, “Only one way to get rid of them . . . You must sing an Aria, Edward. It . . . will cure the Four’s poison . . . You must sing . . . or you’ll be destroyed by the voices . . .” He gasped, struggling to find the strength to continue speaking.
But Edward just shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. He was in agony. “D-Don’t know how. I cuh-cuh-can’t sing an Aria. I couldn’t even s-sing the simplest S-Song of Power! Muh-muh-my voice is useless . . . c-can’t suh-suh-stop stuh-stuh-stuttering . . .”
Before Mr. Spines could reply, Bridgette rushed back into the room. Her face was pale and her eyes wide with fright.
“We’ve got to go! They’ve found us!”
Chapter Fifteen
PLAN
“No, no, that’s wrong!” a reedy voice barked. Joyce the faun marched through her ranks of new recruits, eyeing them sharply. “You’ve got to sight your target before you throw. Take a moment, breathe, then fire. Don’t rush it or you’re sure to miss.”
Jack observed the training, puffing on his pipe. He had to admit, Rachel had been as good as her word. In the past three hours, over two hundred Guardians had shown up at his little cottage. Many had immediately quit whatever they were doing to join the cause, convinced that what Jack had said about Edward was true.
Several of the Guardians were of Rachel’s rank, young protectors who had recently been appointed to low-ranking positions. But many of them were eager new recruits, some barely able to sing or throw a ring. Joyce wore her gingham dress like a general’s uniform and marched among them with a commanding presence. On Earth, Jack’s wife had been a crack shot, and she couldn’t bear to live in an Afterlife without target practice. Her reputation for marksmanship was legendary throughout the Woodbine and the new recruits listened eagerly to her advice.
Another faun, this one with blond hair and blue eyes, moved through the ranks, offering freshly made cookies and something to drink. Jack smiled. Not everyone was a warrior, but he appreciated the fact that everyone could serve in his or her own way.
“Thank you, Susan!” Jack called to the faun. She flashed him a smile.
“They’re coming along nicely, but fighting Groundling soldiers will challenge them more than they realize,” someone said quietly.
Jack glanced over at the young Guardian who sat next to him, her damaged wings carefully bandaged. Tabitha had been transported to the cottage shortly after Cornelius’s messengers had arrived. Besides its extensive library, Jack’s cottage was famous throughout the Woodbine for being a place of healing and rest.
The green-skinned Guardians had done the best they could for her injury, singing many verses of the Song of Restoration. It had eased her pain considerably, but it was still unknown whether her feathers would ever grow back. The weapons of the Four were an evil more powerful than most Guardians had ever experienced.
“They’ve already shown more faith and courage than their elders,” Jack said. “I can hardly wait to see Whiplash Scruggs’s face when he sees these brave young men and women rushing to Edward’s defense.”
“So you’re going, then?” Tabitha asked. Jack detected a hint of worry in her voice.
“I must. I can’t let Edward and Bridgette face the Jackal alone.”
A long silence settled between the two of them. Tabitha gazed at the new recruits as they rehearsed Joyce’s throwing instructions. At her command, they released their glowing rings. This time, many of them hit the hay bales that she’d set up as targets.
Tabitha would have given anything to have her wings back, to fly to Edward’s aid. But even if she could, all the stories said that the force field surrounding the Jackal’s Lair would shear the wings off of any Guardian. Even with an army, what kind of chance was there?
Jack noticed Tabitha’s troubled expression. Guessing her thoughts, he said gently, “Have faith, Tabitha. It is the most powerful weapon we have.”
Tabitha glanced up at the little faun in his tweed jacket and floppy hat. In spite of being a mortal, he embodied the traits that the highest ranked Guardians were supposed to possess: bravery, loyalty, and compassion.
Tabitha offered Jack a weak smile. The loss of her wings was the most difficult thing that had ever happened to her. She’d had a reputation for being the best flier in the Woodbine. It was the one thing that had made her different from the rest of the Guardians; something that had made her proud.
Perhaps too proud, she thought. After all, it had been pride that had prevented her from helping Edward when she’d first met him. And wasn’t pride the thing that had caused the Jackal’s fall?
Tabitha decided that she wasn’t just going to sit around and feel sorry for herself. Edward was her friend and he needed her help. Even if she couldn’t fly, she was determined to do something.
Tabitha slowly rose to her feet. Surprised, Jack offered her his hand, helping her to stand.
“Are you sure you should be getting up?” he asked. “You should get more rest. There will be other battles, Tabitha.”
Tabitha gazed down at him, smiling bravely. “Yes, but none as important as this one. I may not be able to fly, but I can still fight.” And removing her ring from her bright blue sash, she slowly walked over to join the new recruits.
Chapter Sixteen
ENEMIES
Edward and Bridgett
e rushed through the dark, twisting passages beneath the dungeon, trying to throw the Groundlings off their scent. Between vicious commands from the Four, Edward’s mind kept flashing back to his father’s cell. They’d left him there after he’d insisted that they go on without him, that he was too weak to travel.
If he dies, it’s your fault, the poisonous voices said. You left him behind, and when they find him out of his chains they’ll kill him. What a horrible son! Leaving your father when he needs you most!
Edward’s head throbbed. This time the voices were right. He hadleft his father to die.
The dank tunnel twisted left and Edward nearly slipped on a puddle of yellow slime beneath his feet. He gripped the wall for support, listening as he did so for any signs of pursuit. Straining his ears for the slightest sound, he tried to calm his rapid breathing.
“I th-think we luh-lost them,” he said after listening for a full minute and not hearing anything. Bridgette stood next to him, equally flushed.
“I hope we find your mother soon,” she said, gripping her sides. “I can’t keep this up much longer.”
Edward nodded in agreement. He wanted to tell Bridgette how much it meant to him that she was here with him. She’d followed him to the most dangerous place he could conceive of, helping him on what could still prove to be an impossible quest.
“Bridgette,” he began haltingly. She glanced up at him, still trying to catch her breath.
“Yes?”
Edward hardly knew what to say. There weren’t enough words to express what he was feeling. His heart beating rapidly, he leaned over and kissed her gently on her cheek. Bridgette blushed and glanced up at him.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“F-for everything,” Edward replied. Bridgette blushed again and flashed him a happy, somewhat confused look. Edward, trying to prevent the moment from becoming too awkward, cleared his throat and then marched forward, saying, “We better k-keep g-going.”
Edward and Bridgette continued down the passageway, each of them feeling their way through the oppressive darkness, their hearts buoyed by a new feeling of lightness. Bridgette knew that Edward liked her, and she liked him, too. She hoped that they would make it through this terrible journey and one day enjoy some happier times together.
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