The Adventurer's Guide to Successful Escapes

by Wade Albert White

  Jeffery popped into view, his bright rainbow feathers a stark contrast to their bleak surroundings. “Hey, is it me, or could this place use a little sunshine?”

  “I feel awful,” said Hiro, clutching the sides of his head.

  Penelope rubbed her belly. “Ugh. It feels like I ate some bad portal or something.”

  Rokk stood. Jocelyn quickly followed.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Jocelyn said, shaking a finger at the giant robot. “Are you a licensed portal operator? Is this a preapproved quest destination? You can’t simply go around calling down portals on unsuspecting people and transporting them willy-nilly across the Hierarchy. We have rights, you know. This is clearly a violation of Sections 416, 506, and 902 of the Questing Regulations, not to mention also being quite rude.”

  “My homing beacon has been activated,” said Rokk. “I must return to my point of origin.” Without another word he started down the hill toward the gray forest below.

  Point of origin. The words echoed in Anne’s ears. She wanted to return to her point of origin as well, but she was no longer certain whether this quest was taking her closer or farther away.

  “Come back here,” Jocelyn shouted. “I demand you return us this instant.”

  Rokk ignored her and kept walking.

  Jocelyn slung her satchel over her shoulder and straightened her clothes. “Well, I’m afraid to say this is going to reflect very poorly on your evaluation,” she said to Anne.

  “My evaluation?” said Anne. “What did I do?”

  Jocelyn pointed to the departing robot. “You’re the one who got him to activate his… his homing-thingy, aren’t you?”

  “I just asked him the question in the riddle! How was I supposed to know what would happen?”

  “Precisely my point. You have no idea where this is.”

  “I do,” said Jeffery, sounding nervous now. “We’ve landed on a dead tier.”

  If possible, Jocelyn became even more serious. “Jeffery, are you certain?”

  “What’s a dead tier?” asked Anne.

  “It’s what happens when someone fails a prophecy quest,” said Hiro. “It destroys all life on whatever tier you’re on at the time.”

  “Not just any prophecy quest,” Jocelyn corrected. “Only a Level Twelve quest. And I truly thought that was a myth. No one has even attempted such a high-level quest in centuries, and one hears all manner of rumors about them.”

  Anne took in the utter starkness of their surroundings and felt her pulse quicken. “Um, so if this is what happens when a Level Twelve quest fails, what happens if a Level Thirteen quest fails?”

  No one seemed eager to speculate.

  “This is very serious,” said Jocelyn. “We need to leave immediately and seek help. Jeffery, can you contact Nana?”

  “I can’t contact anyone,” said Jeffery. “I don’t even know where we are. And I already used my one allotted emergency signal for this quest.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to be able to leave here without Rokk,” Anne said, and then she pointed to the sky. “Unless you know how to summon a portal.”

  Penelope tapped Anne on the shoulder. “Speaking of Rokk, shouldn’t we be following him?”

  Rokk had almost reached the edge of the forest.

  “Come on,” Anne yelled and ran headlong down the hillside. The others followed, with Jocelyn grumbling about how she would have chosen sturdier footwear had she known she was going to be gallivanting across some unknown tier. They caught up with Rokk just inside the forest.

  “Rokk, we need you to recall the portal,” said Anne.

  “I must return to my point of origin,” said Rokk, and he kept walking.

  “Rokk, I order you to recall the portal.”

  Rokk ignored her command just as he had ignored Jocelyn’s.

  “I don’t think I can stop him,” Anne said to the others. “But if the quest riddle is what caused him to bring us here, he should be leading us to the next destination point. Maybe he’ll listen once we reach there.”

  “I certainly hope you’re right,” said Jocelyn.

  Anne hoped she was, too.

  Rokk maintained a steady pace, forcing the others into a light jog to keep up with his long stride. The path wound through the forest. None of the familiar sounds of nature were present: the buzzing of insects, the chirping of birds, the spontaneous combustion of humpbacked snorflefizzles. The only sound was the crunch of dry, withered leaves underfoot.

  Eventually, the trees thinned and gave way to a field of dead gray grass with a windowless two-story building in the center. Its stone walls were pitted and crumbling, giving the impression of great age. The side of the building facing them was dominated by a set of large double doors covered in dead vines. The doors were tall enough that they could accommodate Rokk with room to spare.

  Rokk marched over and stood in front of the doors. From somewhere beneath the vines, a green beam of light shot out and swept over him. There was a distant click, and with a deep groan the doors swung outward on their own, snapping the brittle vines with ease. Inside, a wide staircase descended into the darkness.

  “Wonderful,” said Anne. “More stairs.”

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” said Hiro.

  The oversized steps were obviously designed for someone or something much larger than the average person. Rokk descended them with no trouble whatsoever, but the others had to jump their way down each step. Despite their difficulties, they soon reached the bottom (with several thankful murmurs) and followed a short tunnel to yet another door. Rokk opened it, and they entered to find they were standing on a balcony. The building’s main level lay thirty feet below, stretching for hundreds of feet in all directions. A grid of tiny lights covered the entire floor, like thousands of evenly spaced fireflies. The vines had invaded here, too; they hung from the walls and ceiling and even wrapped around the balcony railing. At the far end of the room, barely visible in the faint light, was a tall structure of some sort. Across the floor in front of the structure was an indistinct black line.

  The group followed Rokk down yet another set of stairs, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. Jocelyn kept muttering to herself and writing things in her notebook. When they reached the main floor, they could see that the “fireflies” were actually thousands of tiny spheres sitting atop thin metal rods. The spheres pulsed with a dull amber light.

  “What do you suppose those are?” asked Hiro.

  “I don’t know,” said Anne. “But they’re numbered.” She pointed to one of the spheres, where a five-digit number was inscribed.

  Before they reached the far end of the room, the floor dropped away into a seemingly bottomless chasm. On the other side of the chasm was a wide shelf of rock, which contained the structure they had seen from the balcony. It turned out to be a white pillar that extended from the shelf all the way to the ceiling high above. Curiously, it resembled the elevator in the Infinite Tower. A bridge led across the chasm—or at least it would have if not for the ten-foot gap where the center had collapsed. All in all it was the sort of place where words like foreboding and sinister would feel right at home, and even the phrase ill-omened would have been comfortable stopping by for a biscuit and a quick cup of tea.

  “Now what?” asked Jocelyn.

  “We must cross,” said Rokk, pointing across the bridge.

  “Yes, but how?”

  Anne reached into her pocket and brought out the twig she’d taken from Shard. She cautiously walked onto the bridge and knelt before the gap. Then she placed the twig down and tapped it twice. It grew until it spanned the gap and attached securely to the far side.

  The others began to move onto the bridge, but Rokk held out his massive arms, blocking the way. “Please remain here. Only the Keeper and I may proceed across.” He pointed to Jeffery. “That includes the GPS.”

  “This is highly irregular,” said Jocelyn.

  “It’s fine,” said Anne. “I’ll only
be a few feet away. You’ll be able to see and hear everything that happens.” She nodded to Jeffery, and the little sparrow complied and fluttered over to perch on Penelope’s shoulder.

  Rokk went first. The branch creaked in protest but held. Once he was across, Anne followed, keeping her eyes on the far side and doing her best to ignore the black emptiness below. Once past the gap, she hurried onto the shelf and joined Rokk. In front of the white pillar was a thin gray box just slightly shorter than Anne herself.

  “What now?” asked Anne, wondering if perhaps the key lay inside the box.

  Rokk didn’t respond. Nor did he lead her over to the box or the pillar. Instead, he lifted his leg into the air and brought his foot down on the end of the bridge. A ringing clang echoed throughout the chamber.

  The rest of the group on the other side cried out.

  “What are you doing?” yelled Anne.

  Rokk still didn’t answer. He slammed his foot onto the bridge a second time, and then a third. Each time, the bridge supports shook and groaned under the furious assault. Finally, on the fourth strike, the supports gave way. The portion of the bridge connected to the shelf broke away and crumbled into the chasm, taking Shard’s branch and most of the other bridge section along with it. As the branch fell, Anne realized she had forgotten to take a new twig, so she couldn’t grow another branch to get back to the other side.

  Anne backed away from Rokk. Had something gone wrong with him, or was this part of the quest? He was obviously tied to the quest somehow, or else speaking the line from the riddle to him wouldn’t have triggered the response it had. Still, had she been foolish to trust him? Anne kept expecting Rokk to attack her as well, but he stood perfectly immobile.

  “Are you all right?” Penelope called across to Anne.

  “I’m fine,” said Anne. “But what do we do now?”

  “That’s easy,” said a voice behind her. “Now you lose.”

  Anne turned around.

  The white pillar was indeed another elevator, and the doors had opened to reveal…

  The Matron.

  Anne gulped as the Matron stepped out of the elevator and regarded her with undisguised hatred. The doors to the elevator closed, and something told Anne they wouldn’t open again unless the Matron wanted them to. Anne looked desperately at Rokk, hoping the Matron’s arrival might trigger his security scan, or whatever he had called it, but he remained impassive, unmoving.

  “H-how do you keep finding us?” asked Anne, willing her voice not to crack.

  The Matron chuckled. “A perk of the position. Antagonists are permitted up to three dramatic entrances per quest, and I like to get my money’s worth. So I’m afraid, my dear, you’re going to find that you are always a step or two behind me. That’s not your fault, necessarily.” Her eyes flicked across the void to Jocelyn. “Someone should have prepared you better.”

  The Matron walked over to the edge of the shelf and stared at Jocelyn. “Well, well, look who’s come to visit. We didn’t have time to catch up back at the academy, what with your trying to vanquish me and all, but I’m not surprised to find you in the middle of this.”

  “Do you know her?” Anne asked Jocelyn.

  Jocelyn ignored Anne’s question and addressed the Matron. “Let them go, Evelyn. Then you and I can work this out.”

  The Matron laughed. “Work it out? I’d say it’s working out quite well already, thank you. And very much in my favor.”

  “How do you know her name?” Anne pressed Jocelyn.

  The Matron placed a hand over her own mouth in mock surprise. “You didn’t tell them of our connection? Well, the lies do keep compounding themselves, don’t they?”

  “Any connection we have is irrelevant,” said Jocelyn.

  “So that’s how you think of me, is it?” said the Matron. “Irrelevant. Your very own sister.”

  Anne stared in disbelief. “The Matron… is your sister?”

  “I assure you, Anne, that changes nothing,” said Jocelyn. “Everything I told you is true.”

  “So you’re still claiming I was chosen for the academy completely at random?” Anne said.

  Jocelyn paused. “Everything I told you is true except for that part.”

  Anne opened and closed her mouth several times, not even sure where to begin. “What have you gotten us into?” she said finally. “Infinite towers? Sand wolves? Robots? Elevators? What kind of professor sends new students out on a Level Thirteen quest?”

  “I had no idea it was Level Thirteen, I promise you,” Jocelyn said earnestly. “In any case, I never expected you to activate the quest when you did. I came to Saint Lupin’s to take you to the academy, remember? I fully intended to train you, to prepare you for all of this before you ever had to face any of it.”

  “Prepare me for it? When did you plan on even telling me about it?”

  Jocelyn lowered her eyes. “When the time was right.”

  The Matron cleared her throat. “Well, as much fun as it is to bring pain and heartache into the lives of others, I’m afraid time really is running out.” She turned to Anne. “So, as I like to say, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  “I’m not helping you,” said Anne, crossing her arms in defiance.

  The Matron smiled. “The hard way it is, then.” She gestured at Rokk with her metal hand.

  Rokk sprang into action. Before Anne could so much as blink, he grabbed her and dragged her toward the gray box.

  “Let go!” Anne shouted.

  “Leave her alone!” shouted Jeffery.

  Anne turned her head toward the sparrow. “Jeffery, stay back!” The last thing she needed was for him to get knocked into some bottomless chasm, lost forever.

  As they approached the box, a circular hole opened in the side. Rokk shoved Anne’s gauntlet-hand inside. The gauntlet clicked into place and the hole closed around her forearm. Rokk released his hold, but now Anne was stuck fast.

  “Let her go!” yelled Penelope.

  “Don’t let yourself become a clichéd plot device, Rokk,” said Hiro.

  Penelope nodded. “That’s telling him.”

  No matter how hard Anne tried, she couldn’t pull free. Something pricked the end of her index finger, pricked it through the gauntlet, and a high-pitched whirring noise came from the box.

  “Ouch,” said Anne. “What’s it doing?”

  “Making sure you have the right blood,” said the Matron. “And for your sake, I hope you do.” She held up her metal hand and wiggled the fingers as if for emphasis.

  Anne stared at the gray box with renewed horror. She struggled even harder to remove her arm, but it was no use. The box held her arm firmly, and the whirring noise continued.

  “How does my blood have anything to do with this?” asked Anne.

  “I won’t bore you with a lesson in Old World history or the field of study known as genetics, but suffice it to say there aren’t many people whose blood can do what I expect yours is about to do.”

  The whirring stopped. The box clicked again and the hole reopened. Anne quickly extracted her arm. Strangely, there was no visible pinhole in the gauntlet to show where an object might have poked through.

  With another click, a small golden object appeared in the air above the box, spinning slowly. A key.

  The Matron stared at it. “So, hiding here all along,” she murmured. “Clever, clever.”

  The Matron reached for the key, but her hand passed through it, as though the key didn’t exist. She made several more attempts, but each time her hand passed through where the key appeared to be.

  “What trick is this?” roared the Matron. “Why can’t I take it?”

  “It is called the ‘key you cannot hold,’ dear,” said Jocelyn dryly.

  The Matron pointed to Anne. “You try.”

  Anne shook her head. “I told you, I’m not helping you.”

  The Matron gestured with her metal hand again. Rokk grabbed Anne’s arm and forced her to touch the key. Her right
hand passed through, too.

  “Try the other one,” said the Matron.

  Rokk grabbed Anne’s gauntlet-hand and forced it into the key. When the gauntlet touched it, the key disappeared.

  “What happened?” said the Matron, scanning the ground. “Where did it go?”

  Anne looked, too, but didn’t see the key anywhere.

  “What did you do with it?” asked the Matron.

  “I didn’t do anything,” said Anne.

  The Matron motioned to Rokk. He squeezed Anne’s arm tight enough to make her cry out.

  “I’m telling you, I don’t know what happened to it,” said Anne. She gritted her teeth and refused to scream again.

  A young woman appeared in front of them. The Matron lowered her metal hand to her side and Rokk released Anne. That the young woman had materialized out of thin air was not the most disturbing part of her abrupt arrival. She also looked exactly like Anne—exactly like her, except for her eyes, which were dark brown.

  The young woman bowed slightly and smiled at Anne. “Greetings, Anvil of Saint Lupin’s, Keeper of the Sparrow. I have been expecting you.”

  THE TALE OF TWO KINGDOMS

  Once upon a time there lived a powerful sorceress. The kingdom she lived in was a very gloomy place where the people were sad and the environment was in pretty bad shape and the property taxes were astronomical. So the sorceress decided to use her magick and create a new kingdom.

  She named the new kingdom Khom, because she found it calming, and at first everything was wonderful. But eventually one part of the kingdom rose up and tried to destroy the other. This part she named Torr, because it had torn her beloved kingdom asunder. To prevent further destruction, the sorceress built between the two parts of the kingdom a great wall which she named PEEU, because in her opinion the whole situation really stank.