To avoid getting trapped in our own literary prisons, we needed the list Mr. Everett had on the seat next to him. But before we could decide on a plan, the van slowed down. The sound of pebbles under the wheels told me that we’d nearly arrived.
Doug told me to pick a plan, but I wasn’t sure what to do. It felt like a desperate situation. I clutched the hilt of my sword and thought.
The van suddenly braked. Mr. Everett jumped out of the driver’s seat and cursed. When I figured the professor was far enough away not to hear, I used Lightning Launcher to break the lock from the inside. Doug, Patches, and I slipped out.
It was mid-morning, but someone had lit a large, crackling fire in front of the Emporium. A black column of smoke billowed upward. From behind the van, we saw Professor Everett join Askell by the bonfire.
Askell looked our way for only an instant, then turned his back to us. “Do you know what this means?” he asked Professor Everett.
We moved closer to be able to hear and see better. Four people were lined up in front of the shop, creating a line between Askell and the Emporium. As soon as I saw who they were, my heart caught in my throat.
“It means what I just told you,” came Reverend Prospero’s thunderous voice. “You cannot enter, Semueld Askell!”
“This place doesn’t belong to you!” added my father, who stood next to the reverend.
A feeling of hope lifted my heart.
“What does this mean, Everett?” Askell thundered a second time.
The professor stammered and gestured vaguely. “I don’t know, Semueld! They should not … be here.”
I grinned. Yet here they are, I thought. Reverend Prospero, stubborn McBlack, and both of my parents!
Doug pointed at Mom, who held a rifle over her shoulder. “What a woman!” he whispered. I felt an emotion that I still can’t quite describe.
“I went by their houses myself to get their books!” the professor said to Askell. “And they were … they were right where they belonged, Semueld!”
“I should spit in your face, Everett!” McBlack snarled. “You’re a traitor! You’re nothing more than a grubby paper pusher! To think about everything we told you, you lily-livered coward!”
Reverend Prospero motioned for him to be silent. Askell drew back and opened his arms in a gesture of goodwill. “Gentlemen,” he said. “You don’t understand what you’re doing. Nor what you or I are capable of.”
“Oh, yes we do,” my father replied.
“Just go back to your friends, Semueld Askell,” Reverend Prospero commanded. “And tell them they can’t go through Applecross.”
“You’ve no idea what you’re unleashing,” Askell said.
“We’re not unleashing anything at all, you blackguard,” my mother said.
Doug and I looked at each other and grinned. When push came to shove, our mother was every inch as tough as our dad. Maybe tougher.
Semueld Askell gestured wildly in frustration. “Have you ever heard such nonsense?” he cried.
“I suggest you depart, Askell,” the reverend said.
“This house is MINE!” Semueld Askell snapped.
Prospero positioned his body so that it filled the entire entrance to the Enchanted Emporium. “This house was built by Reginald Lily for himself and his family over a century ago,” said with surprising calmness.
“So what?!” Askell screamed. “The Lilys are a family of THIEVES!”
“Whether that’s true or not,” the reverend said icily, “is entirely your problem.”
Askell tried to compose himself. He pointed at the door. “I need to go in that house!” he whined. He took a deep breath, then growled, “And you can’t stop me!”
Askell slipped a hand beneath his Cloak of Mirrors and pulled out a long, rusty sword with a black hilt. “I didn’t brave the madness of Abdul’s Burning Library, nor plunge into the depths of the abyss to be stopped now! Let me in this house — and I’ll let you live!”
Askell twirled the rusty sword twice and pointed it at the foursome lined up in front of the Enchanted Emporium.
Reverend Prospero stepped forward. The soles of his shoes resounded against the ground like the dinging of a bell. “So what do you intend to do?” Prospero said. “Attack an unarmed man?”
Askell bared his teeth. He howled like a beast and lunged with the sword in front of him.
Reverend Prospero didn’t move. The sword ripped through his clothes and dug into his side. He opened his eyes wide, pressed his hand to the wound, and crumpled.
My father ran to his side to support him.
“Enough,” McBlack growled. He leveled the shotgun at Askell and fired. The echo of the two shots rang between the white stones of the cliff. The seagulls scattered. Two empty cartridges fell to the ground.
Askell lowered his sword. He was unharmed … and smiling. His rusty sword flared with dark energy. “You still haven’t figured out what you’ve unleashed,” he said.
McBlack reloaded his shotgun. My father and mother pointed theirs at Askell. “Don’t take another step forward, you scoundrel!” my mother crowed.
Scoundrel? I thought. Blackguard? Mom, if we get out of this alive, I’m gonna give you a long lesson on insults.
I slipped out from behind the van. When Doug looked at me, I said, “Sorry, bro, but I think it’s my turn.”
“Hey!” Doug cried. “Viper, wait!”
I sprinted toward the scene. My father fired two shots before Askell sliced the smoking barrel of his rifle in two with his sword.
I heard my footsteps ring out on the white stones of the cliff. I felt the black gaze of the seagulls. I heard the mysterious song of the sea.
I heard my mom shout, “Finley, no!” Her voice wrapped around me like a shield — one that no magic sword in the world could cut through.
I had almost reached my adversary. His Cloak of Mirrors reflected my sword at a hundred different angles. I saw my eyes reflected, too. They were yellow and sharp, like those of a solitary predator.
My hand was joined to the hilt of the sword as if it were a claw. I bared my teeth and something deep inside me growled at Askell, “Hey, little boy. The wolf is here!”
Askell spun around to face me in a cacophony of reflections. And as soon as he saw me, he let out an inhuman scream and lunged at me with his sword.
Zing!
Lightning Launcher directed my hand upward and deflected Askell’s blow, sending his black sword twirling to the ground. For a brief moment I felt the sweet taste of victory. But a second later, the sword rematerialized in Askell’s hand.
“You can’t be here!” Semueld Askell shouted.
“Sorry for the delay,” was all I could think to say.
Askell charged at me while twirling his sword like a barbarian and bombarded me with blows. One, two, three — seven lunges and slashes in an increasingly frenzied pace.
I let Lightning Launcher direct my hand as it parried one strike after the other. But Askell’s slashes were strong, heavy blows that made my bones and muscles tremble.
I parried, dodged, and then backed up, overwhelmed by the fury of his attack. Askell was twice as big as I was and twice as fast. But no matter how hard he tried, his sword couldn’t get past my guard.
And so, after a sequence of slashes that could’ve killed an army, he took a step back and held the black blade in line with his aquiline nose. I couldn’t help but look at his severed ear.
“Who taught you to fight like that?” he said, panting from the relentless attack.
“No one,” I said. And it was the truth.
Askell took a deep breath and continued his assault. He lunged and made me step aside, I slashed and he stepped back. We changed places like a whirlwind of metal and flesh. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw McBlack had finished reloading his rifle and was following ou
r every move. He hadn’t pulled the trigger because we were too close to each other to fire safely.
Askell broke off his attack and backed up for a moment. I pointed Lightning Launcher’s shining tip at him and said between gasps, “Do you give up?”
“Would you?” he snarled.
Then he pulled the hood of his Cloak of Mirrors over his face and disappeared.
I froze. “Coward,” I hissed through my teeth. Where is he? I wondered. Where?!
“Finley!” McBlack called out from behind me.
Lightning Launcher jerked in my hand, twisting my wrist painfully to deflect Askell’s blow a moment before it would’ve dug into my spine. I saw Askell only for the instant that the two blades clashed into each other. Then he disappeared again.
Screaming from the pain in my wrist, I lost my grip on Lightning Launcher. It fell to the ground.
“Return to me!” I ordered it, and it reappeared in my right hand. I passed it to my left hand a moment before Askell attacked me a second time. I leapt backward as the two swords clashed. Once again, he disappeared.
A third blow blocked, then a fourth. They arrived out of nowhere but somehow Lightning Launcher knew where to parry.
I deflected another blow, then started to back away. Concentrate, Finley, I told myself. Don’t think about anything else — not the shop, the cliff, the van, or the fire. One thing at a time. Concentrate on fighting. Focus on him. How can you know where he’s going to attack from?
I had a fraction of a second between Askell’s blows. And I was holding the sword in the wrong hand. I raised the sword in front of my face and kept backing up until I could no longer feel the waves of heat coming from the bonfire. The fire provided good protection on one side, at least, so I circled to keep it to my right. I dug my feet into the pebbles covering the cliff and prepared for Askell’s next attack.
That’s it! I realized. Even if Askell is invisible, his footprints aren’t!
I stopped looking in front of me and lowered my gaze to the ground.
I breathed quickly, trying to get more oxygen to my aching muscles and my burning lungs. My right wrist was turning violet.
Concentrate, Finley, I thought. The pain doesn’t exist.
I heard the crackling of the fire and the gulls screeching. I sensed my parents, Mr. Everett, and Doug all moving around in my peripheral vision. But I didn’t look at them. There was only one thing I had eyes for. Something insignificant and tiny. One of those things that only an ant would notice.
There! I said to myself. A few pebbles were flattening beneath Askell’s invisible feet. I realized he was moving slowly to my left where I was most exposed.
I smirked. I know where you are, I thought. And you don’t know that I know.
I hid my smile and turned a little to my right to tempt him to attack my left side. Askell took the bait. As soon as I saw a large patch of pebbles move, I turned and slashed where I knew my adversary would be.
SCHING!
Askell appeared at the end of my sword and screamed. The strap of his Cloak of Mirrors split in two where my sword had struck his shoulder. The mirrors clattered to the ground. Askell brought a hand to his neck and pulled it away, red with blood. Once again I saw that same frightened expression on his face I’d seen in the depths of the Sunken Castle. A mix of astonishment and fear.
I smirked. “I see you, Semueld.”
Askell snarled and raised his sword. The rust on its blade shone in the morning sun like drops of acid.
I parried his blow. And this time, I didn’t step back. Instead, I responded with a half-lunge. Now it was Askell’s turn to parry.
Then he retreated.
He’s on the defensive, I realized. He’s balancing his steps and waiting to counterattack. Don’t let him.
It’s not a dance, a voice in my head said.
It’s not a game, another said.
It’s a hunt, a third voice stated. And you’re not the prey.
It was great having all those voices cheering me on.
While Askell and I were having our sword fight, Professor Everett tried to escape. He ran around the fire, trying to get to his van. Instead, he found himself facedown in the dirt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I heard my mother say. I stole a glance to see she’d tripped Everett.
The professor got back to his feet with the quickness of a petty thief and the same cowardly expression.
“Let me go!” Everett yelled. “You can’t make me do anything! Stay back! I have your son inside here!”
And he pointed to the book from crazy Abdul’s library. He pulled what he thought was the copy of The Old Curiosity Shop out of the paper bag and held it close to the fire. “Take another step toward me … and I will burn him alive!”
My mother leveled her rifle at him. “Don’t you dare, Everett,” she said with steely resolve.
“Don’t challenge me, woman!” he screeched.
Using the copy of Through the Looking Glass as a shield, he took another step back toward the van.
“Yes, that’s right, just let me go,” Professor Everett babbled. “Don’t you dare move a muscle and nothing will happen to your precious Doug …”
A smirk appeared on my mother’s face. Doug was waving at her from behind the van.
My mom lowered the rifle just enough for the professor to lower the book. Everett backed up faster and stumbled, losing his grip on the book. It fell to the ground and opened, but he dove on it and picked it back up, quick as a cat.
“Don’t move!” he ordered my mom once more.
He raised the book, turned it in his hands, and accidentally looked inside. He let out an unearthly cry of despair as his body turned to ink. A moment later, he disappeared into the pages of Through the Looking Glass. The book closed in midair like a bear trap and fell to the ground, rolling into the blaze.
The cover caught fire. The air stank of burned skin. My mother ran over and kicked it away from the flames.
Doug stomped on the cover until the fire was out. “Nice work, Mom!” he said.
Only then did my mother completely lower her rifle. “Doug!” she yelled. “Help your brother!”
Taking advantage of my distraction, Askell managed to graze my right leg with his sword. It sliced through my jeans and left a jagged, crimson line in my thigh. It was one of those wounds that — if I survived — would become a pretty cool scar to show girls.
It hurt like hell, but I didn’t scream. Instead, I channeled all my pain into a mighty swing of my sword, which sent Askell reeling to the side. I did a half-spin, putting us face to face once again.
Semueld Askell’s wound had stained his clothes in an increasing pool of violet. Yet a smile crawled across his face.
Behind him, my father, Reverend Prospero, and McBlack stared at us in awe. Somehow they knew, as I did, that this fight was mine — and mine alone.
And I was exhausted. I’d been distracted, and Askell had finally gotten through my guard. That meant I was running out of energy.
“I believe we’ve come to the end of the game, McPhee,” Askell said. I saw his eyes track behind me.
That’s when I realized I’d backed up to the edge of the cliff with the sea behind me. I was cornered and there was no escape.
That was why Askell had smiled. He wasted no time and attacked me with a series of quick slashes, the only purpose of which was to back me up and tire me out.
Lightning Launcher deflected the blows, but now its movements were a fraction of a second slower than before. Askell’s rusty sword split open my jeans again. A frighteningly quick thrust nicked my ribs. I screamed.
I was cornered and had to get my back away from the cliff at any cost. After the next attack, I dove forward with a ridiculous somersault that made my head smash against the pebbles. Fortunately my awkward dive surpri
sed Askell enough that I was able to get past him.
Rising to my feet, I raised my sword and parried his blow while regaining my balance. A moment later, I found myself on the ground without knowing how I got there. I saw Askell’s blade coming down on my head and turned to my side just in time for the blade to slash into the pebbles next to my ear. I rolled to my knees only to find Askell grinning down at me with his sword pressing against my neck.
Game over, I thought.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came a deep voice from behind us.
It seemed as if the fire itself was speaking, but I knew instantly it was Locan Lily, Aiby’s father. Slowly he advanced toward us.
I took advantage of Askell’s confusion to roll away and jump back to my feet. I clutched the hilt of my sword shakily, hoping Locan had more in store for Askell than a moment’s distraction.
I saw that Mr. Lily wasn’t alone. Aiby was with him, too. So were Meb and Mr. Yuram Legba. The three Van de Maya sisters were there as well, along with Alejandro and Maria Tiago. Teobaldo Scarselli and the two young Moogleys stood behind them. And each and every one of them was furious.
McBlack had never stopped aiming at Askell — neither had my mom. My brother had Professor Everett’s list of books in his hand, and he was reading the books aloud.
Askell backed toward the cliff. He slowly lowered his sword and forced a ghost of a smile. “All against one, eh?” he said. “Is this the Lily family’s idea of honor?”
“You’re a disgrace to your family, Semueld!” Yuram Legba snarled. “You are in no position to talk about honor.”
“Throw down your sword,” Locan Lily commanded.
I was trembling so much I could barely keep my sword aloft. Tears made my vision hazy.
Askell dropped his sword on the ground.
“It’ll return to his hand,” I said, warning them.
“Surrender now, Askell,” Teobaldo Scarselli said. He wore an elegant white linen suit. “It’s over.”
The Thief of Mirrors: 4 (Enchanted Emporium) Page 12