Warren the 13th and The All-Seeing Eye: A Novel

by Tania del Rio

  The room was shaking more violently than ever. Dust and plaster dropped from the ceiling. It felt as if the roof was about to collapse.

  “Maybe we should leave,” Petula said.

  “Silence!” Annaconda shrieked. “No one moves! Not until I get what I came for!” She looked frantically around the control room until her eyes settled on a small hatch in the floor. A look of crazed glee crossed her face. She yanked on the handle and the hatch flew open. A cold wet wind blasted into the room. Mr. Friggs collided with Petula, and both of them toppled to the floor. Warren knelt down and peered down the hatch.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes!

  A thunderstorm seemed to be raging underneath the basement of the hotel. It didn’t make any sense. Warren quickly realized they were no longer on the ground. The hotel had been lifted eight or nine stories into the air. Warren could see the hotel’s foundation, now nothing more than a large muddy pit. On the sides of the building, four tall mechanical pillars were anchored to the ground. They extended from the base like insect legs.

  “I’ve found it!” Annaconda cried. “The Eye is buried below the hotel!”

  She reached to open a small panel beside the hatch and a long rope ladder spilled out, unfurling and swaying madly in the thunderstorm. Annaconda grabbed the top rung and began her descent.

  “The burrow,” Petula said, remembering the riddle. “You have to burrow under the hotel to get to the Eye! Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “But then what’s the shell?” Warren asked. A nagging thought kept tugging at the back of his mind. Something wasn’t right. He was so puzzled that he almost didn’t notice Petula crawling over to the hatch.

  “Wait, where are you going?”

  “We can’t let Annaconda get the Eye,” Petula said, grabbing the ladder’s rungs.

  “But your arm!” Warren yelled. “You can’t climb!”

  A RAGING STORM

  Petula explained, “As a perfumier-in-training, I’ve been waiting for this opportunity my whole life.” She hooked her good arm through a rung to steady herself, then reached for a tiny bottle and showed it to Warren. “If she finds the Eye and her powers are restored, I need to be there to capture her.”

  The ladder swung wildly, like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Annaconda was nearly at the bottom, oblivious to her pursuer. Petula lowered herself slowly, one rung at a time. As Warren watched, he noticed that the legs of the hotel were adorned with gears, cogs, and pistons. The entire building trembled precariously.

  Back at the control panel, Mr. Friggs was using his cane to raise himself off the ground. “This is too dangerous, Warren. We need to stabilize the building. Try one of the other buttons.”

  “But which one?” Warren exclaimed.

  There were too many, hundreds of them, all different shapes and sizes and colors. Warren pressed a round green button but nothing happened. Then he tugged a black lever that produced a faint hum but little else. Next he tried turning a black dial from 5 to 6, but the mechanism refused to budge.

  “Don’t give up,” Mr. Friggs said. “There’s clearly power flowing into this panel, but something is locking the controls. Perhaps we need a passcode.”

  “That’s it!” Warren exclaimed. He turned to a grid of buttons that resembled a keypad. “Remember the journal page?

  Mr. Friggs’s mouth widened into a grin: “ ‘When the Heart of the Warren sees the words writ by the rightful man.’ Warren, my boy, that’s it! Type in the code and let’s see what happens!”

  Warren tapped the letters one at a time: T-H-E B-U-R-R-O-W S-H-E-L-L.

  An angry horn sounded and the hotel shuddered. Flakes of plaster rained down from the ceiling, and a large crack spread across the floor. A small slip of paper spooled out of a slot; Warren saw the word stamped on it in smudged ink:

  “WE NEED A PASSCODE”

  “Try something else!” said Mr. Friggs.

  “What else is there?” Warren asked.

  “Try anything! We’re about to fall over!”

  FILLING IN THE BLANKS

  Warren tried his best to remember exactly how the page had looked.

  Countless rabbits lived in the forest around the hotel, but Warren knew nothing about them. Their home was underground. They lived in burrows. They lived in shafts and passages and dirt, but none of those words fit the blanks. They lived in a–

  “Warren!” Mr. Friggs shouted.

  Warren looked at his tutor. “Yes?”

  “No, my boy, that’s the answer!” said Mr. Friggs. “Rabbits live in a warren!”

  Of course! Warren couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. He rushed over to the typewriter-like device and typed: T-H-E W-A-R-R-E-N S-H-E-L-L.

  Once again, the hotel shuddered, an angry horn blared, and another paper stamped INVALID spooled from the slot and fluttered to Warren’s feet. By now the crack in the floor had spread to all four walls, causing Mr. Friggs to glance around nervously. “We can’t wait much longer,” he said. “We may have only one more guess!”

  The room teetered more violently than ever. It seemed as if the building were cracking apart. After trying so hard to save his family’s hotel, Warren felt that he was destroying it single-handedly. A snail’s home was hard. A snail’s home was safe …

  A chunk of falling plaster narrowly missed Warren’s head. “Move!” Mr. Friggs shouted.

  Warren ducked in the nick of time. “Exactly!” he said. “It moves!”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “A snail’s home moves!” Warren cried. “That fits the blanks!”

  He leaned over the keypad and typed: T-H-E W-A-R-R-E-N M-O-V-E-S. In an instant, all the buttons on the console flashed bright green and a cheerful bell sounded. There was a loud clanking noise and a long metal tube descended from an opening in the ceiling. Attached to the end was a pair of goggles, fitted with a crank on one side and a lever on the other. They stopped directly in front of Warren’s face. He looked into the lenses and gasped.

  Through a series of cleverly placed mirrors, Warren could see outside the hotel. He saw the gloomy forest and the trees whipping in the thrashing rain.

  Turning the crank adjusted the view, allowing Warren to see in different directions. He saw the hedge maze and the driveway winding through the woods. He was up so high, he could even see the next village miles and miles away.

  “Mr. Friggs, it’s a periscope!” Warren cried. “Like on a submarine! You control it with the crank.”

  “What about the lever?” Mr. Friggs asked.

  Warren pushed the lever and the hotel lurched forward. Mr. Friggs was knocked off balance and spilled to the floor. He peeked into the hatch and then turned to Warren in astonishment. “The pillars are moving! The hotel is … walking!”

  Warren could feel the structure rising and falling with each step. He released the lever but the building kept tromping and trudging across the lawns, heading for the forest. He looked down at the control panel and grabbed the round wheel; the hotel veered sharply to the right. It was walking in a circle. With every step forward, its enormous metal legs made a deafening

  A faint voice wafted up through the hatch. “Helllllllllp!”

  “Petula!” Warren cried.

  He peered down and saw Petula clinging desperately to the ladder; she was swaying to and fro, hanging on for dear life. With one arm injured, she surely wouldn’t last much longer. They had to find some way to slow down!

  RUNAWAY HOTEL

  “The girl is in danger!” Mr. Friggs shouted. “Warren, you need to stop this thing! Find the brake!”

  Warren stared helplessly at the control panel. He pushed a big blue button and the hotel leapt into the air like a ballerina; it crashed down in the forest, splintering trees like tiny matchsticks. Warren tried more buttons–he tried every button–and the hotel did everything but stop. It pranced, it galloped, it hopped on two legs instead of four, it even skipped! Petula shrieked:

  Mr. Friggs knelt beside th
e hatch and pulled on the ladder, but he wasn’t strong enough.

  Warren didn’t want to leave the controls unattended, but he knew he had to help Mr. Friggs. He rushed over and together they managed to raise the ladder, one soaking wet rung at a time. Sweat broke out on Warren’s brow and his muscles strained. But as they pulled Petula closer–and he saw the terror on her face–he found a strength he didn’t know he had. At last she was able to grasp the edge of the hatch, and Warren pulled her up into the control room.

  “What’s happening?” she exclaimed. “Why is the hotel walking?”

  “There’s no time to explain,” Warren said, and he ran back to the chair to look through the goggles. The hotel had marched in a wide circle through the forest, leaving behind a trail of destruction. Now it was heading back toward the foundation–a giant muddy pit!

  “Do something!” shouted Mr. Friggs.

  “I already tried all the buttons!” Warren said.

  “Then try something else!” Mr. Friggs cried.

  But it was too late. There were no brakes, so Warren cranked the wheel to the right in a last-ditch attempt to avoid the massive hole. The room lurched to the left, and yet again Mr. Friggs was thrown off balance. The old man grabbed a cable from the ceiling, triggering a loud screech and a gnashing of gears. All at once, the clanking noises ceased. Steam hissed through the tubes as though releasing a long and beleaguered sigh. Finally the hotel stopped.

  Warren smiled in relief as his friends rushed over and hugged him. “You did it, Warren!” Petula cried. “You figured it out!”

  “With your help,” he said.

  Warren’s tutor was so overjoyed, he looked ready to cry. “It’s incredible!” he said. “ ‘The All-Seeing Eye commandeered, the hotel shall no longer stand!’ It all makes sense now! The hotel is the All-Seeing Eye and it no longer stands, it walks!”

  Warren was amazed. Somehow all twelve of his ancestors had managed to keep this amazing secret–and now, at last, he knew it too.

  “Of course!” Petula said. “That’s why Warren the 2nd drew so many insects. He was studying their movements!”

  Warren turned to Mr. Friggs. “But you said the All-Seeing Eye was a weapon.”

  “I believe it once was,” said Mr. Friggs. “A most formidable weapon. It could crush dozens of enemies with a single step.”

  “And carry villagers to safety,” Petula added. “And give soldiers a warm place to sleep. And transport all kinds of supplies.”

  “Plus the periscope allows you to see for miles in any direction,” Warren chimed in. “It truly is an All-Seeing Eye!”

  Petula laughed. “And all this time people thought it was some magical trinket. I suppose Annaconda will be very disappointed when she learns the truth.”

  Warren looked through the periscope and down at the pit. The torrential rains had filled it, making a giant muddy lake, and Annaconda was up to her neck in muck. She was trying to climb up the sides but kept sliding back.

  A CRY FOR HELP

  Warren called his friends over to look through the periscope. “I think we need to save her,” he said. “If we don’t act now she’ll drown.”

  “Are you crazy?” Petula asked. “After all that she’s done?”

  Mr. Friggs shook his head. “It’s too late, Warren. That pit could turn into a sinkhole at any minute. You’ll be sucked down into the center of the earth.”

  “Hellllllllp!” Annaconda cried again.

  “I can’t sit back and do nothing,” Warren said. Ignoring Petula’s stricken expression, he placed his hand on the panel and powered up the hotel. This time he pushed the lever gently, and the hotel advanced at a more manageable pace, almost tip-toeing to the edge of the pit.

  “Not too close,” Petula said. “If it collapses, we’ll tumble right in!”

  “Trust me,” Warren said. He was starting to get the hang of the controls–they were sensitive, but he cleared his mind and trusted his instincts, nudging the building ever closer. Then he reached for the cord, pulling the brake and halting its progress.

  The hotel trembled and Warren knew he didn’t have much time. Rain continued to pelt down and waters were rising; with each passing second the pit widened and deepened. Amid rolling bouts of thunder, Warren could hear Annaconda wailing for help. “If anything happens, Mr. Friggs,” Warren said, “just pull the lever toward you and the hotel will walk backward.”

  Warren pushed the ladder out of the hatch, unfurling it down to the pit far below.

  “Are you sure?” Mr. Friggs asked. “It pains me to say this, Warren, but if you were drowning, I don’t think Annaconda would save you.”

  “I’m going to try anyway,” Warren said. “Maybe she only married Uncle Rupert to get the All-Seeing Eye, but she’s still part of our family. We can’t just leave her.”

  Mr. Friggs nodded. “You’re a brave boy. A good boy. Your father would be proud.”

  Warren grabbed the top rung and began descending the ladder.

  “Wait!” Petula cried. “Take this! Just in case!”

  She reached through the hatch and handed him a perfume bottle. Warren smiled gratefully as he slipped it into his pocket.

  “Heeeeeelllp! Pleeeeeaaaase!” Annaconda screamed.

  “I’m coming, Auntie!” Warren called back. “Hang on!”

  His stomach lurched. He’d always had good reflexes, but maneuvering the twisting ladder was far more challenging than he’d expected.

  “Hurrrry!” Annaconda shrieked.

  “I’m coming!”

  He descended as quickly as possible, practically sliding down the rope. Soon his feet were planted on the bottom rung and his entire body swung perilously over the churning waters. The pit must be thirty feet deep.

  “Warrrrren!” Annaconda cried. “Hurry!” She was barely able to stay afloat.

  “Grab my hand!” he cried, leaning as far off the ladder as he dared. “I can’t get any closer. You’ll have to swim to me and I’ll pull you out!”

  “I can’t!” Annaconda’s head dipped underwater for one horrifying second. When she broke through the surface, she was slightly closer.

  “You’re almost there!” Warren cried. “Come on!” After a few seconds of frantic paddling, Annaconda was close enough that her fingernails could graze the tip of Warren’s hand. He was straining so hard that he thought his arm might pop out of its socket. “Just … a bit … farther!” he grunted.

  Finally he was able to close his hand around her wrist, wincing in pain as her nails dug into his arm. Annaconda proceeded to claw her way up Warren’s body as though he were just an extension of the ladder. For someone so thin and bony, she certainly weighed a lot. Her boot heels pressed against his shoulders and she climbed to the upper rungs.

  “We did it!” Warren gasped, breathless. He expected Annaconda to look relieved, too. Or happy. Or exhausted.

  Instead, she was furious. “You buffoon!” she railed. “Why didn’t you tell me the Eye was the hotel?”

  “I didn’t know!” Warren said.

  “I’ll never possess the Eye now! Not with you inheriting the hotel on your eighteenth birthday! And after all the work I’ve done–no! I simply can’t allow it!”

  With a swift kick of her boot, she knocked Warren off the ladder. He fell backward and hit the water with a splash. Limbs flailing, he somehow managed to stay afloat, taking in a single choking breath. Through blurred vision he saw that the ground beneath the hotel’s pillars was crumbling. The pit was becoming a sinkhole!

  Far above, plumes of steam vented from the hotel’s smokestacks. With a clanking of horns and a grinding of gears, the building started moving away–without him!

  ANOTHER BETRAYAL

  ait!” Warren gasped. Despite paddling furiously, he was no match for the roiling waves. He thrashed his legs and struggled to pull himself up, but before long he lost all sense of direction. His lungs burned and his limbs felt like jelly. All his efforts were useless. He sank lower and lower, down to the murky
bottom of the pit.

  It’s over, Warren thought as the inky waters enveloped him. He couldn’t hold his breath any longer. The last bit of air bubbled out of his mouth, rising to a surface that seemed impossibly out of reach. In his final moments, Warren remembered the first time his father had brought him up to the roof the hotel, teaching him how to cross the slate tiles without falling. It was one of Warren’s earliest memories, and it would also be his last.

  Suddenly a dark shape plunged into the water, and something cold and soft wrapped around Warren’s waist. The next thing he knew, he was being yanked to the surface. He opened his eyes and saw dozens of fiercely determined pupils staring back at him.

  Sketchy! The creature clung to him with two of its tentacles and used the rest to paddle upward. Naturally, Sketchy was an incredibly robust swimmer and even managed to scale the muddy sides of the pit, dragging Warren to safety and depositing him on solid ground.

  “Thank you, Sketchy,” said Warren, gasping for breath. “I thought I was a goner.”

  Sketchy raised a tentacle in a salute, then gestured frantically toward the forest. The hotel was walking away! The rope ladder still swung wildly from the building, but there was no sign of Annaconda. Warren guessed that she had climbed to the boiler room and was now controlling the hotel. Surely Mr. Friggs and Petula were no match for her witchery.

  “We have to run!” Warren said. He raced after the hotel, slipping and sliding on the muddy ground. Sketchy galloped up alongside, and he hopped onto the creature’s back. He urged his friend on, but fallen trees and brambles blocked their way. The hotel was disappearing into the distance. Sketchy sprinted faster–tentacles slithering over the slime–but it was hopeless. The All-Seeing Eye was designed for warfare, and nothing could outrun it. Petula and Friggs were at the mercy of Annaconda.