by Ken Brosky
“Wow,” he said. “You thought of everything.”
Not quite. I still had no idea where Agnim was.
“You can’t stop the Golden Dragon!” cried a young man at the edge of the stage. He grabbed my foot. “He is the gold bringer! He will make us more powerful than even the richest men! One golden egg is enough to …”
“Oh shut up already,” I said, kicking off my shoe. I jumped off the stage, landing awkwardly, wiping my forearm on my shirt. The cuts stung, making my eyes water.
“Alice, watch out!” Chase yelled. He rolled by, knocking over two of the last minions before they could jump me. Briar, pushing the wheelchair with a frantic worry, stepped on top of one and muttered a quiet “Sorry!”
“Two golden eggs!” cried the young man, throwing my shoe at me. He came at me and I stepped aside, ready to whip my strapper at his wrist. But instead of attacking me, he clawed at the stage. “No no … three eggs, that’s all I need! Three eggs and I can buy the world! I can buy a small island! I can buy anything! Everything!”
I grabbed him, tying one hand and twisting it behind his back. He ignored me, trying to get his leg up on the stage.
From behind me came the whump, whump whump of Seth’s nail gun.
“Just let me touch it!” the young man cried out. “Just one egg! Let me touch one egg and then you can nail me down or whatever it is you’re doing, you crazy girl!”
I grabbed his other arm, tying it behind his back, then pulled him to the ground. “Seth!”
Seth stepped over, nailing the young man’s robe to the ground in three different places. The young man struggled, wiggling as best he could, his hood falling back.
We both gasped.
“Brandon!” I exclaimed. Angry, I tied up his feet, too. I couldn’t believe it—Trish’s new boyfriend. The guy she’d dumped Seth for. “You idiot. The Golden Whelps! What do they do … prepare you for the Order by teaching you how to be a greedy moron?”
His eyes bulged out of their sockets. He was drooling like a boy watching an R-rated movie. “Just let me touch an egg! The gold belongs to us! It’s ours!”
I grabbed another strapper, tying it around his mouth. “Just shut up already.”
“Alice,” Chase said, lifting up his visor. “Your … uh, friend wants to remind you about the giant freaking goose.”
Briar, standing behind him, tapped his little button nose.
“Right.” I climbed the stage, grabbing my saber. The goose watched me as I walked up the wooden steps to her little nest. “You really are a big beast, aren’t you?” I told her.
The goose honked again. The pinned-down minions responded with lusty cries for the golden eggs.
“Seth,” I said.
“Right.”
“Give ‘em all another couple nails each.”
“Right.”
I stopped at the top of the platform, kicking aside a clump of hay. “You know,” I said in a soothing voice, “I used to be afraid of geese. When I was a kid. They were always so unafraid of me. You’re not afraid, either.”
The goose craned her long neck. Her black eyes studied me.
“Why were you sleeping?” I wondered aloud. “How did Agnim find you?”
The goose just shook her head, ruffling her golden feathers. I reached out, stabbing her. She gave one last honk, burning away.
“Why?” I asked, watching the ashes slowly fall onto the platform. The smell of burnt paper filled my nostrils.
“I think we know,” Chase said. Briar wheeled him around the pinned minions to the base of the stage. “The texts you and Briar found … it’s not the Order of the Golden Dragon. It’s the Order of the Golden Dragons.”
“But then what …” I looked underneath wooden platform. Four golden eggs, sitting at the base of the slide. Four coins. Suddenly everything made sense, and it all added up to a pretty terrifying picture.
“Oh crap,” Seth said. He pointed the nail gun at the eggs. “Oh crap! Dragons! Dragons, dudette!”
“Shoot,” I ordered. “Maybe we can get them before they hatch.”
He fired. The nail pinged off the egg. He fired again. Another ping.
“Woah!” Chase called out, ducking in his chair. “That’s not working.”
I swung the saber at the egg. The blade clanged against the shell, and the vibration numbed my fingers.
“Ouch. OK. One other idea.” I drew a crude-looking sledgehammer into the floor, then pulled it out. It was heavy, a little misdrawn, but otherwise good enough to do some smashing.
“I’m covering my ears,” Seth announced.
“I wish I could,” I said, slamming the hammer on the egg. The minions screamed, their agonizing drowned out by the ear-ringing clang.
The egg wasn’t even dented. I looked to Briar. He shrugged.
“OK. New plan,” I said, picking up my saber. “You guys are going to keep an eye on the eggs while I take care of Agnim. Maybe I can get some answers from him.”
“Uh … Alice.” Seth pointed to the eggs. “Those are dragon eggs.”
“Yes,” I said, hopping off the stage. I grabbed Briar by the vest, pulling him up the aisle. “If the eggs crack open, scream really, really loud so I hear you.”
“Where are you going?” Chase asked, taking off his helmet.
I took a deep breath. “Upstairs.”
Chapter 16
I stood at the base of the old grand staircase. The entire lobby was illuminated by the same dull box-shaped lights from my dream. Just like I remembered from my childhood.
Same scary staircase, too. I knew why, too: Agnim had seen my memories in my dream. He’d made sure the place looked just as I remembered it. He’d even had his minions close the red curtains on the second-floor windows, just like in the dream.
Briar looked at me, whiskers twitching.
“OK,” I said. I touched the cold brass bannister. My hand snapped back as if shocked.
I tried to take a step. My foot felt like lead. I felt unsteady. I was having trouble focusing, as if the last ounce of energy in my body had been expended.
Just what Agnim wanted.
“OK,” I said again, steeling myself. “For real now.” I took a deep breath, forcing my hand to touch the bannister. I kept it there, even though all five tense fingers were itching to pull away.
“I hope you don’t mind a bit of hurried advice,” Briar said, glancing over his shoulder. “Normally, I would go into a lengthy diatribe about the merits of fear and learning to conquer it and all such manner of things … perhaps a digression on the dangers of greed … but I do have this sneaking suspicion that those eggs are going to hatch, you see …”
“Briar. Get to the point.”
He looked at me, his whiskers twitching. “They’re just stairs, dear hero. And whatever awaits you at the top … you will not face it alone. You will always have me.”
“My little furry deus ex machina,” I said with a smile.
“Indeed! Oh, that’s funny. I was just saying the same thing to your friend Chase.”
I took a deep breath, grabbing his extended paw. A little—very, very little—bit of anxiety disappeared. “I’m glad you said that. Because you’re going to need to take off your clothes for this part.”
“Er … what?”
I stepped onto the first stair. A rush of adrenaline coursed through my body.
Good.
“Come on,” I said, tugging on his paw. We hurried up the stairs, into the shadows. Into the darkness. All of my dreams seemed to be flooding back to me. I crept through the darkness, unable to focus. I shook my head. To my left were the old bathrooms, the ones that had scared me so bad as a child. Between them was a single V-shaped wall sconce, casting a dull light on the old red hallway carpeting and the thick red window curtains to our right.
Ahead was another staircase. A dim golden trail led up.
“Our destination,” I said to Briar, nodding ahead. “It’s a good thing you trust me, friend.”
&
nbsp; “Why’s that?” he asked.
I drew the device into the old carpet floor. It glowed a golden color, then solidified as I pulled it out, setting it up perfectly in line with the men’s restroom door. I stepped over it and set up another one perfectly in line with the women’s restroom door. The devices were about five feet apart. “Will you remember? If you’re not absolutely sure, I won’t do this.”
Briar looked down at the device. “I’m honored by your concern, but it’s hardly necessary. It is my duty to assist the hero, not cower in fear every time my potential destruction is imminent.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “But you’re my friend.”
His ears perked up. “I can do this.”
“Good. Now take off your pants and vest.”
His ears drooped.
I laid out the rest of the trap, then stepped inside the narrow staircase beyond the bathrooms, following the golden trail up. The door ahead was open just a crack. Light shined through, dim and soft. I opened it, clutching my saber.
Lightning sliced across the dark black clouds blanketing the sky. A few raindrops landed on my face as I stepped out onto the massive roof. Agnim stood on the other end, looking out at the city, his black cloak billowing in the wind. A gold trail ran along the stone-covered roof, a straight line from my feet to Agnim.
“I’m impressed,” he said. “I did not foresee your knight in shining armor.”
“Me neither.” I smiled. “That’s the cool thing about having friends who care about you. You wouldn’t know because you don’t have any.”
Agnim growled.
I pulled the sheet of magic paper from my pocket, unfolding it. The scribbled words meant nothing, but—weird as it sounds—I trusted that clever little sausage. I rubbed the paper along the blade of my saber. It glowed blue for a moment. I held it out in front of me, marveling at the sight. I could feel something different about the blade.
“You haven’t foreseen any of what’s about to happen,” I warned. The rain picked up, melting the piece of paper in my hand. The cuts on my forearm stung. The doctor in my head reminded me just how finite my body was, and performed a quick inventory of my injuries: not just the cuts but also the throbbing bruises on my thighs, shoulder and lower back.
Agnim turned. His hood hung low but I could see his pointed green nose and chin. Raindrops bounced off his cloak, just like in my dream.
“I’ve misjudged you,” he said. “That much is clear.”
I shrugged. “It happens a lot when I’m fighting Corrupted, actually.”
Lightning lit up the sky, followed closely by thunder that reverberated through my body. A massive old metal-looking box—an old air conditioner compressor—on the right side of the roof rumbled with such intensity that I thought it might start hobbling off.
Just like in my dream.
I stepped left, clutching my sword. Agnim watched, hovering over the layer of gravel covering the roof. “You’ve overplayed your hand,” I told him. “I saw this rooftop in my dream.”
“But you did not see the future. I’ve seen a great deal more than you know,” Agnim called out over a crack of thunder. “I saw the wars coming. I saw man’s lust for shiny gold objects and paper money trump his brotherhood. I saw human beings tear at each other’s throats, bomb entire cities, burn down their own homes, all for what?” He grunted. “Do you really think that had I not enticed them with gold, that your fellow human beings would have all gotten along and sang campfire songs?”
“No,” I whispered.
“No!” His voice was met with another loud crack of thunder. The raindrops seemed to be burning away when they landed near him now, as if a great heat was emanating from his body. “Your fellow human beings did not need me at all for their wars. They had each other to thank for that. But I will not lie to you: I’ve loved watching every moment of it. I love watching human beings tear each other apart.”
I clutched the wet hilt of the sword tighter, stepping left again. Agnim followed me, staring at me through two golden eyes hidden deep in the shadows of the hood. He drew the hood back, revealing his face. Rain fell onto his bald, green forehead, slid down his pointed ears, ran down the bridge of his beak-like nose. He had terrible blackened lips, rotten sharp teeth, boils and scars lining his green face. He looked like an orc.
He looked terrifying.
“Your story is over,” I said, stepping left again. Agnim followed, moving closer, his green, gangly hands slipping out of the sleeves of his robe.
His back was to the door leading into the building. I switched the sword to my right hand—that was the sign. In a flash, naked Briar ran from the doorway to the big metal air conditioner compressor, hiding behind it.
Now all I had to do was get over there.
“For one hundred and fifty years, I have waited to face the hero,” Agnim called out as the rain picked up into a downpour. “I protected the golden goose, knowing what terrible secret she possessed. Everything culminates in this night. Here. Now. My destiny. I have seen it.”
“You’ve been wrong before.” I stepped left. “What’s your ulterior motive?”
Agnim cocked his head inquisitively.
“Come on,” I said. “All you Corrupted have some motive or other.”
The wizard shook his head. “I desire nothing more than to see this world burn. And the golden dragons will do exactly that.”
Agnim brought his hands together. A ball of red pulsating light appeared, growing quickly.
“OK, saber” I said under my breath. “Please please please do your magic thing now.”
The ball of light grew larger and hotter.
“Do you know what happened to that poor woman who warned you about me?” Agnim called out. He cackled when I was unable to hide my surprise. “I killed her, Alice! I choked the life from her!”
I held out the saber, clutching it with both hands, tempering the anger boiling inside.
“Come on!” I said to the sword. “Do your thing!”
Agnim moved forward. He pushed the ball of red light toward me. Instead of splitting apart like in my dream, it stayed intact, burning away raindrops and creating a vapor trail as it cut the distance between us in half before I could even draw in a panicked breath. There was no time to move out of the way. No time to think.
The ball of hot light hit my blade. I could feel the heat. The hissing of vaporized rain tickled my eardrums. The blade of the saber shook violently, threatening to slip out of my tight grip. I held on, locking my fingers together.
The ball of light disappeared.
“Impossible!” Agnim screamed. “Impossible!”
I exhaled, stepping left again. Then again. Then again. I could do this. We were dancing around each other very slowly, and I was getting closer and closer to the old compressor where a very wet Briar was waiting to play his part. But I needed to keep Agnim moving.
“You’re not the only one who knows magic!” I called out. Angry thunder responded for Agnim, a thousand boulders breaking away from a massive mountain.
Another red ball of light appeared between his hands. It grew faster this time, hissing like a snake as it vaporized the rain. I held my blade low. Agnim released the ball again. It flew through the air so fast I nearly missed my chance, swinging my saber up in an awkward arc. The base of the blade hit the ball of flame. My saber clanged as if I’d just hit a steel pole, and an intense heat burned my fingers. The ball flew back.
Right at Agnim.
He jumped out of the way, landing on the pebbled roof, digging his fingers into the stones. The ball of flame hit the tall brick ledge of the roof, melting it away.
“Impossible!” he screamed, getting up and forming another red ball.
“You sound like a broken record,” I called out, wincing at the pain in my fingers. I’d need to time my swing a little better than that if I wanted to survive this. “Watch the ball,” Chase said in my mind, “and watch your bat connect with it. And put your butt into it.”
Right. Only missing this kind of ball meant melting like a hot marshmallow.
“No pressure,” I told myself, watching the red fire grow larger between Agnim’s hands. He released it again and it soared through the air. This time, I used my legs to add some extra oomph, swinging my saber more quickly. The ball of flame bounced off the tip, snapping the blade in the process. Agnim ducked out of the way, avoiding the flame yet again.
He got up, his bare feet touching the pebbles. He was no longer floating. His shoulders were slumped. He took deep breaths, rainwater dripping off his chin.
He was getting tired.
But so was I. My muscles ached. My eyes burned. The cut on my arm stung. It took every ounce of willpower to stave off the dizziness infecting my brain.
“This is your destiny, hero!” Agnim called out, raising his hands high in the air. “You will die here tonight!” Another ball of red fire grew in his hands. I clutched my broken saber, suddenly very afraid. The broken tip was glowing a bright blue now. The magic spell … it was dissipating. Running out of power. I held it low, hoping it had enough juice left to repel just one more blast. I was so close to the massive air conditioner that it would only take a few more steps to reach it.
Agnim threw the fireball at me again. I swung upward, and this time when my saber connected with it, an intense shockwave propelled me backward. The fireball exploded in a flash of light, vaporizing the falling rain with such an intensity that, for a breath, the entire rooftop seemed to be under an umbrella.
Then the rain fell again. And it was a good thing—one of my sleeves and part of my pants were on fire! The raindrops put the flames out quickly, but I’d dropped the saber in the panic. My hands fumbled over the wet gravel. I looked over my shoulder. The wizard had fallen back, too, and was leaning on the brick ledge, wheezing for breath.
I found the saber and gasped. The blade was melted down to the hilt. Not only that, my pointer finger was burned a dark red and a disgusting blister had already begun to form.
Agnim cackled furiously, forcing himself to his feet. “You see, hero? Do you understand my powers now?”