Gabriel Finley and the Lord of Air and Darkness

by George Hagen

  “But you risked…”

  Mr. Finley smiled faintly and reached for Tabitha’s hand, as if to remind Gabriel that it was all worth it.

  —

  They were a large group now. They shuffled as quickly as they could along the curved blue corridor, gathered the bundle of coats and headlamps, and emerged upon the rocky plateau with granite walls rising dramatically around them.

  As they surveyed miles of vast, gloomy cavern, they could all see a cluster of yellow eyes in the distance. The birds were flying along the walls of the immense underground domain, and would reach them soon.

  “No talking,” whispered Adam. “If we get down into the twisting passageways of the maze, they won’t be able to follow.”

  Quickly, they descended into the maze and hurried down the first right-hand turn. The cries of the birds faded. Pamela and Somes were last, and once he felt safe, Somes stopped to tie the snapped lace of one of his sneakers. In that brief moment, the other members of the group proceeded to another fork and turned.

  By the time Pamela and Somes got there, they couldn’t see anyone. They called after the others, but the earthy walls and sharp turns muffled all sound.

  “Which way do we go?” whispered Pamela. “Do you remember whether we were supposed to keep to the right wall or the left wall?”

  “Hey, everybody!” cried Somes.

  But no answer came.

  Somes heaved a sigh. “I don’t think anyone said. So let’s go…left.”

  “Yes, that’s what we did when we entered,” agreed Pamela. “But shouldn’t we stay to the right when we leave?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t matter,” said Somes. “I can’t remember what Mr. Coffin said.”

  They decided to keep left, and followed the cramped dark passage as it twisted down dead ends, brought them back out, then turned and twisted again.

  After about fifteen minutes, Somes and Pamela sensed a change. The air became warmer. They had arrived at a higher point in the cavern. They tied their jackets around their waists.

  “I don’t remember this at all,” murmured Pamela.

  “Me neither,” said Somes, and then he squinted at something ahead. “What’s that?”

  It was a series of flickering torches, coming from what seemed like the very end of the maze. They looked cheery and welcoming. Somes and Pamela removed their headlamps and clambered from the tunnel up steps leading to a polished granite balcony carved out of the cavern wall; it was cream colored and veined with gold, and it revealed a spectacular view: the ruins of Aviopolis, stretching out for miles beneath them.

  In the gray gloom, they spied a great tower lying upon its side in fragments. Columns of vast temples tipped against each other like fallen dominoes, and a series of stone bridges zigzagged this way and that, some with spans that rose high and stopped abruptly where they had crumbled or collapsed.

  Statues dotted the ruins, some human, others an unlikely combination of bird and beast. Everywhere, the walls, pillars, and rubble glistened, flecked with quartz and alabaster.

  “Hello?” said a voice. “Who’s there?”

  Pamela jumped with surprise. A boy was sitting at the farthest end of the balcony, swinging his bare feet. He had long, curly dark hair that swept over his shoulders, and he was wearing a threadbare pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

  “I’m Pamela,” she said. “That’s Somes.”

  The boy smiled. “My name’s Cassius. Where’d you come from?”

  “From Brooklyn,” replied Somes.

  The boy sprang off the balcony. “Come see where I live,” he said, and gestured for them to follow him into a chamber that appeared to have been scooped out of the cavern wall.

  Inside, it was a grand-looking place, with pillars of pink granite and black amethyst and polished floors tiled in precious stones. It was also messy, like a playroom. Clothing was strewn over chairs of garnet, aventurine, and opal; open paperback books lay on every surface; and boxes of cereal, raisins, and crackers were scattered across tabletops. A water fountain bubbled out of the mouth of a carved fish into a marble basin. A bed with a headboard of polished jade was covered with a heap of sheets and cushions.

  Cassius regarded Somes with fascination. “Wow, you’re tall,” he said. “How old are you?”

  “Twelve.”

  Grinning, Cassius puffed out his chest. “Me too! Are you hungry, Somes?” He picked up a box of crackers and presented it to him.

  Somes took the box, though he didn’t really want to eat. He noticed that it had claw marks.

  Cassius offered Pamela a small box of raisins. “You must be hungry, too,” he said.

  “Thank you,” said Pamela. “How long have you lived here?”

  “I don’t know.” The boy shrugged. “I’ve been here with my dad for as long as I can remember.”

  “Where’s he?”

  “He disappeared about a month ago, when the tower fell.” Cassius pointed to the great structure that lay in fragments beyond the balcony. “I’ve looked for him all over, but…” The boy’s expression changed slightly; then he picked up a jar of peanuts and nibbled a few.

  “And you’ve been here all that time with nothing to do, all alone?” asked Pamela, her voice full of sympathy.

  “Oh no,” Cassius replied boldly. “I mean, I read and play, and I’m not alone. I have the birds to keep me company.”

  “Birds?” Somes replied sharply.

  Cassius jumped up and whistled toward the ruins. Far away, a fierce CAW! echoed. Somes and Pamela stiffened with alarm.

  “Don’t be afraid,” said Cassius. “They’ll do anything for me. Silly birds.”

  In a few moments, a cluster of glowing yellow eyes approached and alighted on the balcony. Somes recognized the valravens everybody had spotted before—tatty-feathered creatures with jagged, whitened beaks.

  Seeing the visitors, the phantoms hissed and glared, raising their neck feathers in anger.

  “Behave yourselves!” the boy snapped. “These are my friends, Somes and Pamela. Be nice.”

  The valravens crouched at the boy’s command, dropping their hackles. Cassius stroked them, and they made a meowing sound, like wailing kittens.

  “See? They’re my pets.” He introduced the birds, one by one. “Bumper! Thumper! Skimpy! Dimpy…and the one with the mangled right claw is Lefty.”

  “Lefty?” Somes smiled in disbelief.

  Pleased by Somes’s reaction, Cassius got excited. “He does tricks,” he said. “Want to see? Here—” He took the cracker box from Somes. “Lefty? Fetch! Fetch!” He spun a cracker into the air above the valraven.

  The valraven uttered a squawk, and its head shot into the air—without its body—and captured the cracker in its beak. As the head dropped, the valraven’s body hurriedly hopped into position so that its head landed exactly upon its neck.

  Cassius turned to Somes with a grin. “How cool is that?”

  “Epic,” admitted Somes.

  “I’ll show you something else!” cried Cassius, leaping up and running into a room adjacent to the chamber.

  Somes frowned and turned to Pamela. “So? You realize who he is, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Pamela sighed, surveying the messy chamber. “My poor brother. His whole life has been spent down here with no mom, a disappeared dad, and those birds. I feel so sorry for him.”

  “Your valraven brother,” emphasized Somes. “What happened to his wings? Is he human by day and valraven by night?”

  Pamela glared at Somes. “He’s my brother.”

  “So?” Somes shrugged. “That’s the only thing you know.”

  “I can see he really likes you, Somes,” she whispered. “Did you notice how he tried to impress you?”

  “Big deal,” grumbled Somes.

  “Well, I think Cassius is nice. He belongs with his family, not living in the darkness here, all by himself. He’s just like us.”

  “Hey, look at this!” cried Cassius, coming out of the sha
dows. He was holding a long stick. “I found this in the ruins a few days ago. I think it’s special. It has a tingly feeling. Here, touch it.” He offered it to Somes.

  The moment Somes grasped the stick, he felt an intense warmth emanate from the wood through his fingertips, and he guessed that it was the staff Gabriel had lost during his previous adventure in Aviopolis. Gabriel had explained to Somes that it was made from the wood of an ash tree, known in mythology as the Tree of Life, and it was magically linked to the torc. For example, he could summon the torc with the staff—it would come flying through the air and wrap itself around the ash-wood stem. The staff could also destroy valravens, bursting them into feathery explosions.

  As he dusted the staff off, Somes wondered if it still held any power. He pointed it toward the valravens on the balcony. The startled phantoms took off in a flurry of panic.

  “I should have warned you,” said Cassius, laughing. “They hate that stick. I don’t know exactly why.”

  “Gabriel will be so glad that you found this, Cassius,” said Pamela.

  “Who’s Gabriel?” asked Cassius.

  “Oh—” Pamela hesitated, wondering if this was the right time to explain.

  “He’s a really good friend,” interjected Somes. “You should meet him.”

  Pamela shot a relieved glance at Somes, and he nodded back to her.

  “You really should,” said Pamela. “Want to come with us? We’re going back to Brooklyn.”

  Cassius hesitated before answering. “Is it close by?” he said. “I knew the cavern was big, but I didn’t know anybody else lived here.”

  “Well, it’s not exactly here. It’s up there,” said Pamela, raising her eyes.

  Cassius followed her glance, and for the first time, he looked afraid. “Up where?”

  “Brooklyn is a place aboveground,” said Somes.

  “It’s full of people, trees, houses, parks, grocery stores, blue skies, clouds—”

  Cassius began twisting a strand of his hair as Pamela talked. “Oh, sure,” he interrupted. “I’ve read about those things. I know what they are. But they’re just in stories, aren’t they?”

  “Come and see. You can stay at my house,” said Pamela.

  “Or stay and wait for your dad,” added Somes. “It’s up to you.”

  Cassius drew a breath, then peered beyond the balcony to the fragments of the fallen tower. An expression of solemn resolve came over his face. “I’ll come,” he replied. “Hey, Somes? You can keep that stick, as a present. My birds hate it anyway.”

  “Thanks,” said Somes, tightening his grip on the staff.

  Pamela told Cassius to bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush, but Cassius said he was ready to go as he was. Somes suggested shoes, but Cassius explained that the soles of his feet were tough from years of running around barefoot.

  Once they set off, Cassius started to look around for his valravens. At the mouth of the maze, he called them, and they landed in a row on his arm. He stroked their heads, one by one.

  “Bumper? Thumper? Don’t be mean to Skimpy. And you, Dimpy, take care of Lefty, okay?”

  The birds protested with a chorus of meows. Cassius scratched their neck feathers and consoled them. “Don’t cry. I’ll be back soon,” he said.

  Reassured, the birds flew off into the cavern. Cassius turned away from Pamela and Somes to wipe tears off his cheeks, then followed the two friends into the maze.

  Gabriel was near the entrance to the maze. At each turn, he felt his mother’s hand upon his, squeezing tightly, just to remind him that she was there. He had so much to tell her—twelve years of his life to explain. He wondered where to begin.

  When he and his mother took the last fork, and the passage ahead became straight and steep, Gabriel waited for the rest of the group to catch up. As Septimus walked past him, he noticed an odd design on the back of the man’s coat. It was a ring, about the diameter of a dinner plate, like a burn mark.

  Abby joined Gabriel. “Isn’t that weird?” she whispered. “I wonder if he left it on a stove or something.”

  Gabriel turned back to the maze. “Hey, where are Somes and Pamela?”

  “They can’t be far,” said Abby.

  “When was the last time you saw them?”

  Abby breathed on her glasses and rubbed them. “Now that I think about it—almost an hour ago.”

  They turned and walked back to the last fork in the passageway.

  “Could they be lost?” wondered Abby.

  At that moment, Gabriel felt something crunch beneath his feet. He kneeled down and noticed some bright red pistachio shells on the dirt floor. “Abby, look,” he whispered.

  “Pistachio nuts. So?”

  “Red pistachios. Pleshette rewarded Punch with them at the shop. What if he’s here with that monkey?”

  “Why would they come here?” Abby replied.

  “Paladin heard that Pleshette was upset about the duds and bribed Burbage to show him the way to the chamber. He wants those diamonds, and Punch is amazing at riddles.”

  Abby picked up her pace through the passage. “No kidding. If Corax is set free by the monkey, then Snitcher will give him the torc and—”

  “It would be the end of everything,” murmured Gabriel.

  By this time they were running back into the maze. Gabriel hoped that his parents would continue forward with Septimus. Nothing mattered more than stopping Pleshette and the monkey. They followed the passage’s twists and turns as fast as they could.

  “Gabriel? What do we do when we get there?”

  “Simple,” said Gabriel. “We destroy Corax’s rune. It’s what I should’ve done before we left the chamber.”

  “How do you destroy a rune?” asked Abby.

  “I saw it happen in Pleshette’s shop,” he explained. “When I was with Paladin in the cage, Pleshette tapped one with a hammer. The rune shattered, and the person trapped inside appeared. He was a dwarf holding a sword. He tried to attack Pleshette, but then he exploded.”

  “Cool,” said Abby.

  “Yeah, I think the penalty for taking a rune from the chamber without answering a riddle is to lose it forever.”

  “What a wicked way to go. Death by exploding.” Abby frowned. “Though it is the perfect way to get rid of a really bad dude. I think it’s a good plan, but suppose Pleshette is already there?”

  Gabriel looked at Abby grimly but said nothing.

  The two ran faster, hoping luck would be on their side. Gabriel dragged one finger against the wall, turning left, then right, then right again, then left.

  “Let’s hope that Burbage gets lost in here and never finds his way to the chamber,” he said.

  When they arrived at the curved passageway lined with lapis lazuli, they were hot and sweaty. Dropping their gear, they caught their breath, then tiptoed forward.

  “Oh no,” said Abby.

  The great brass doors of the chamber were cracked open, and Pleshette stood in the domed room, staring at the pedestal. His shaved head matched the smooth dome of the ceiling. He had unbuttoned his raincoat. Burbage was perched upon his left shoulder and Snitcher nestled upon the right. There was no sign of Punch—but Gabriel felt more concerned about Snitcher.

  “Remember, that robin can turn us into grubs if he wants to,” he whispered.

  At that moment, Pleshette uttered a triumphant chuckle. “Great heavens, look at them, Burbage! They’re perfectly preserved! How could I have let Septimus fool me with those fakes? These are a marvel to see.”

  In the first rune, a raven preened its feathers. In the other, a silhouette of a half man, half valraven crouched, his wings beating.

  Snitcher gave a triumphant chirp. “Great lord and master, how I’ve waited for this moment!”

  The robin’s voice changed tenor and became deep and booming. “Indeed, Snitcher, the end of my captivity is near. I ache to be back in my own body, to rule my subjects and make my enemies tremble!”

  Pleshette stared at the r
obin. “Who just spoke?”

  “I am Corax, Lord of Air and Darkness. My spirit resides in this robin, though my body is bound by magic in that wretched stone. Be quick and begin my release. My valraven army waits anxiously for my return. You’ll get your payment soon enough.”

  The shopkeeper adjusted his eyeglass lenses to assess the robin’s sincerity. “Prove it.”

  “You have my word. An army of valravens waits aboveground. After freeing me, you shall emerge from this cavernous domain and find yourself showered in diamonds.”

  Dazzled by this prospect, Pleshette decided to take the risk. “Very good, Your Eminence. How do we begin?” he said.

  “Read the writing above you,” barked the robin in a deep baritone. “And pay heed to its warning.”

  As before, the letters on the domed ceiling began to take recognizable form, and their message was the same sober warning that Adam Finley and Septimus had encountered—inviting every newcomer to reach for the rune and deliver the riddle’s true answer, or fail and become a prisoner with the circle of fire.

  When he had finished reading, Pleshette began searching his pockets. “Punch!” he cried. “Where are you?”

  “Oh, what a creep,” Abby whispered to Gabriel. “He’s going to make the monkey do it.”

  The small capuchin monkey crept out of Pleshette’s left raincoat pocket and quivered at the sight of the gray raven.

  “Punch,” said Burbage, “grab that stone with the raven inside…or I shall eat your tail!”

  Curling his precious tail tightly around one leg, the monkey reached through the flames and toward the rune containing Crawfin. The moment Punch’s fingers touched the stone, his body stiffened in terror. His eyes rose to Pleshette, who watched the Gutnish letters slowly transform into a riddle.

  A pencil needs one,

  A ballerina performs on one,

  Every decimal has one.

  What is it?

  Punch frowned, then uttered a triumphant shriek. “Point, point, point!”

  The rock collapsed into dust and a magnificent white raven materialized before them. He flapped his wings and looked around, as if stirring from a deep sleep. Recognizing the gray raven, he narrowed his eyes.