The Unwilling Adventurer (The Unwilling #1)

by Heidi Willard

  "That's a bad lie, even for you," Tramadore countered.

  "And what would you propose we say, hmm?" Ned wondered.

  Tramadore shrugged. "That he is out changing the world."

  Ned wrinkled his nose. "That sounds suspiciously like the truth."

  "Yes, I'm afraid that telling the truth is my one failing, and one you rarely have to worry about," Tramadore quipped.

  "Are you two quite done?" Pat interrupted them. She stood impatiently by the door with her arms crossed and her foot tapping the floor.

  Ned coughed. "Yes, well, we'll leave it at that then." He shook hands with his old friend, who grinned.

  "Be careful, and don't stay away so long. It was fun having you as my guests, even with all the trouble you caused," Tramadore replied. Ned returned the grin, nodded and dragged Fred with Pat in the lead out of the study. Tramadore watched them go and his lips pursed together. "May the gods keep you safe, old friends," he whispered.

  Ned took the lead and guided them into the dining hall and up to the pedestal. He stepped up and tapped the bottom of his staff against the low platform. Fred's eyes widened when the pedestal swung aside to reveal a secret staircase. Pat climbed into the hole, but Fred hesitated; it was very dark down there. "Less ogling, my boy, and more moving," Ned scolded as he pushed the boy in ahead of him.

  Following Ned's entrance the pedestal swung back into place and they were swallowed in darkness. Ned tapped his staff against the ground and the top lit up as a clear, consistent blue color. The staircase was wide enough to fit all three of them abreast, so the youngsters followed Ned down on either side of him. Fred clutched his stick and Pat had her hand on the hilt of her sword. The staircase went down for an eternity plus one, but after several long minutes Fred was relieved to feel solid, un-stepped earth beneath his feet.

  Before them was a long, winding tunnel that disappeared behind countless corners. The darkness pressed in on them, and Fred stepped closer to Ned. They moved forward, and the only noise was the soft dripping of water from the tips of stalactites and their feet along the hard earth.

  Fred couldn't take the silence. "Why is there a locked door at the end but not at the beginning?" he asked his companions.

  "A good question, my boy, and one easily answered by the word 'distance,'" Ned replied.

  Fred blinked. "Distance?"

  Ned nodded. "Exactly. An escaping army or citizenry could go the whole way through and unlock the back door. They would then lock the door behind them and force any pursuing army to retreat back the way they came, giving time for the city to regroup and trap their opponents in the tunnel." He held up his staff and showed the thick walls; there were cracks in them. "And in case the enemy army was too powerful to defeat by conventional means the walls could be filled with gunpowder and exploded."

  "And the cave would collapse and kill them all," Pat finished.

  Fred shuddered. He thought of better things, like the end of the tunnel. "And how is a chain going to help us get through a door?" he wondered.

  "Magic, my dear Fred. It has infinite uses, and one thing it's very good at is locking and unlocking things," Ned explained to him.

  They pressed on until the tunnel traveled down into a large cavern. At the bottom of the cavern was a bowl impression twelve feet deep and with steep, smooth sides. The companions walked around the hole until Ned paused; his staff's light had flickered. He frowned and moved his staff over the area; the light caught a long shadow in the bowl. It was a smooth wooden post buried in the ground and eight feet tall. "I have no memory of that post," he murmured.

  "Is that a bad thing?" Fred asked him.

  Ned shook his head. "I'm not-" His staff suddenly flew out of his hands and collided with the wooden post. It stuck against the side a few feet above the ground; fortunately, the light still glowed over them.

  Pat pulled out her sword and looked around; there was no sign of anyone else. "What in the world just happened?"

  Ned, too, glanced around the area. "It would seem someone knew we would come this way."

  "But how would someone know we would go this way?" she asked the others.

  "This is the only secret passage through the city," Ned explained to her. "If someone wanted to make a quick escape to reach a certain point in time for a certain day then this would be the best route."

  "So what do we do now?" Fred wondered.

  Ned straightened and stepped up to the edge of the bowl. "Now I go get my staff." Before either of them could stop him, Ned jumped off the edge and slid down the steep wall. He landed safely at the bottom, skipped a few steps and plopped himself at the base of the pole. "See? Nothing to it."

  "That's a fine idea, Ned, but how will you get out?" Pat called down to him.

  "That's very simple. You two will pull me up," he yelled back.

  She nodded at his staff. "And how are you going to reach your staff?"

  Ned frowned, and looked above his head; the staff sat two feet over where he stood. He turned back to them and sheepishly grinned. "Could either of you lend a strong back to this weak old man?"

  Pat hunkered down and looked over the wall. "There's no way you're getting me down there."

  Fred straightened and glanced around. "You guys hear something?"

  Pat whipped her head around to him. "No, why?"

  "I just thought I heard something."

  "Like what?" she asked him.

  Fred cringed and his eyes flickered around the room. "I don't know, like an ominous rumbling noise."

  Pat rolled her eyes; he was so dramatic. "An ominous rumbling noise?" she repeated in disbelief; Fred nodded. "Well, could you give us a little more-" Pat straightened up. She heard something faintly ominous, and it was more than just a rumble; it was a stampede of feet.

  "I-it's that," Fred shakily replied.

  Ned cupped a hand behind his ears and leaned to the side to listen. His eyes widened, and his voice was frantic. "Get down here!" he shouted to them.

  "What? Why?" Pat called back.

  The rumbling grew louder and the footsteps stomped into the light of the staff. Fred stumbled back and Pat's jaw dropped open at the sight of a huge dog-like creature. The beast stood five feet high and seven feet long from its large head to its stub of a tail. It was hairless and had leathery blue skin stretched over its lean, broad form. Its tail was a nub, and its thick paws ended in long talons. From its short snout its mouth dripped a long line of drool and its jaws could fit a man's head between them. The thing's beady yellow eyes glared at them from beneath a heavy forehead, and it tilted back its head and howled. The noise echoed off the walls and shook the cavern, sending debris falling down on the three companions.

  "W-what the hell is that?" Fred quivered out.

  The creature turned those glowing eyes on the youngsters and Fred stiffened. It huffed out warm air from its nostrils, pawed the ground like a bull and charged around the bowl at the pair. An arm wrapped around Fred's waist and pulled him down into the hole just as the creature barreled down on them. Fred screamed and got a mouthful of dirt as he fell face-first down the wall. Pat slid by his side and they hit the bottom in a cloud of dust. Fred coughed and wheezed, but didn't have much time to relax before Pat grabbed him and dragged his dirt-and-rock-covered carcass over to Ned.

  The creature howled in rage and pawed the ground at the edge of the hole. Pat pulled Fred up on his shaking legs and yanked the broken stick out from his waist. "Be scared and use this!" she snapped at him as she shoved it into his trembling hands. The moment the stick touched his fingers it transformed into the staff. Then it shot up and joined Ned's staff on the post above their heads.

  The companions whipped their heads up at the two staffs, looked at each other, and Ned let out a nervous laugh. "It seems we have a double problem. This stake attracts magical items."

  "You think?" Pat yelled back.

  "And if I'm not mistaken, that creature is a cantankus," he added.

  Their attention was caught a
gain by the creature, who bellowed and shook the cavern. It put a front paw down on the wall, then another. The creature's eyes widened when the rest of its body unwillingly slid down the decline, and it tumbled head over head until it hit the bottom. The three companions stepped back away from the cloud of dust as the shadow of the beast arose from the ground. It sneezed and dissipated the dust.

  "A-are cantankus dangerous?" Fred asked them.

  "Only if they're hungry," Ned replied.

  Fred paled. "How often do they get hungry?"

  Ned took a few more steps back. "Very often." The creature glared at them and growled.

  "What do we do?" Pat whispered to Ned.

  Ned sheepishly grinned. "Now we run."

  He dashed off, leaving the two youngsters bewildered. The creature charged at them and they screamed in unison. The pair ran after their fearless leader and caught up to him. The beast roared and gave chase to all three of them. "Don't you have a better plan?" Pat yelled at the old man.

  "Can't...talk, must...run," Ned wheezed out.

  The three companions circled the post with the monster close at their heels. If they kept up a hearty sprint they kept even with the beast, but any stumble or lag would spell certain doom. After a few dizzying circles Pat growled, turned and pointed her sword at the creature. "I'm done running!"

  Ned slid to a stop, spun around, and grabbed her arm. He yanked them both out of the way of the onrushing beast who moved too fast to immediately stop. The creature slid a few yards beyond them and into the steep wall., knocking itself onto the ground "No stopping!" he scolded her.

  "Why not?" Pat argued.

  "Because its hide is one of the hardest substances in the world," Ned informed her.

  Pat paled. "Oh."

  "The thing!" Fred yelled.

  The pair whipped their heads around in time to see the creature climb to its feet and raise its head. The yellow eyes glowed in fury and hunger, and it charged the two of them with its teeth gnashing. Fred looked around for something to throw at them and felt the bag on his back. He flopped it on the ground and opened the bag to find the food taken from Tramadore's kitchen. Fred whimpered, but saw a decent sacrifice and picked up a green vegetable. He stood up and threw the greens at the charging creature. His aim proved a little off as the vegetable landed ahead of the beast.

  The creature cried out in fear and skidded to a halt in front of the vegetable. It bent down and sniffed at the food, and jumped back with its teeth pulled back in disgust. Pat glanced over to Fred. "Throw some more!" she called to him.

  Fred grabbed all the vegetables he could and tossed them around the creature. It backed up away from all of them and was soon against the wall surrounded by the vegetables. It whimpered and danced around to avoid the greens. Fred reached his hand into the bag and pulled out a leg of lamb. The creature perked up its head and sniffed the air. Its eyes zoomed in on him and its tongue lapped out to lick its lips. Fred dropped the bag, held out the leg of lamb and inched his way over to the cantankus.

  Pat looked between the boy and the dog-thing. "What are you doing?" she hissed at Fred.

  "Trust me, I know what I'm doing," he whispered back to her.

  The creature remained in its self-imposed circle of green evilness, but whimpered and pranced around. Its butt wiggled and the drool flowed like a blobbed waterfall onto the ground. Fred stopped on the edge of the green stuff and tossed the leg into the air. The creature jumped up and caught the meat in its powerful jaws; they snapped shut and the bone crunched into pieces. Fred shivered when he realized that could have been them in those powerful jaws. The beast gobbled down the meat and wagged its butt. It looked to the boy and let out a loud roar of a woof.

  Then Fred did something very stupid; he used his foot to brush aside part of the ring of vegetables. The creature bounded out and landed on top of him; it buried its face into his.

  "Fred!" Pat screamed, and Ned had to hold her back from coming to his rescue.

  They expected to hear Fred's screams of pain and suffering, but all they heard was laughter. The creature's tongue lapped over his entire face. "Stop it!" he giggled as he tried fruitlessly to push its massive head away. "Come on, stop!"

  The cantankus stopped its wet torture and sat back on its hunches. Its tongue hung out and its yellow eyes showed all the love and intelligence of a puppy. Ned chuckled. "It seems this is a male cantankus."

  Pat frowned. "How can you tell?" She hadn't noticed any definitive gender physiology.

  "Because only a man could be subdued through his stomach. A woman would prefer flowers."

  Pat elbowed the old man in the stomach, and while he doubled over in pain she hurried over to Fred. The boy climbed to his feet covered in drool and dirt, and wasn't prepared when she flung her arms around him. "I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered to him.

  He gave her a sheepish grin. "Yeah, so am I."

  Pat pulled him back so they were at arms length; now they were both covered in drool, and she scowled at him. "But don't you ever try to do something that stupid again! What if it didn't like lamb?"

  Fred shrugged. "Then I would've tried the beef steak."

  Pat rolled her eyes and her arms dropped to her side. "You two are impossible to deal with."

  "Children?" Ned spoke up, and they both turned to him. "As pleased as I am to see you in such an affectionate position, we still have problems." Ned stood beside the wooden pole and looked up; their staffs were still firmly attached to the surface and out of reach. The old man glanced around and his eyes fell on the cantankus. "Fred, if you wouldn't mind leading your new friend this way we may be able to deal with this difficulty. Pat, be so kind as to take a steak from the bag."

  While Fred tried to coax the friendly creature to the post, Pat brought Ned the steak. He smeared the blood all over the base of the post, and looked back to see Fred failed at leading the beast. Ned held up the meat. "Perhaps this would help?" he suggested.

  The creature's eyes widened, its mouth opened in a grin and it barreled through Fred to the old man. Ned tossed the steak at the post and the creature's hard head collided with the wood. The pole only shuddered, and didn't fall, but the moment the beast smelled the blood the post was doomed. The creature consumed the steak, and aimed its massive jaws at the post. Those sharp, strong teeth crunched down on the post. The wood snapped into pieces, the post tipped over and the staffs dropped down on top of the thing's head.

  Ned hurriedly picked them up before the cantankus used them as chew toys. The others and he stepped back and watched the beast lick and bite every morsel of blood from the post. Fred was given back his staff and it changed back into a stick, which he tucked into his belt.

  The old man chuckled, and Pat shot him a glare. "What are you chuckling about?" She gestured around them. "Unless that staff of yours can levitate us we're still trapped in this whole."

  "I think our new friend here can help with that, too," he replied.

  At Ned's insistence, the three companions coaxed the beast to the side of the pit. They then climbed atop its back and used the cantankus as a box to stand on. They were still short a few feet, so Fred was assigned the bottom of the pile while Ned and Pat climbed atop his back as he balanced atop the beast. Pat and Ned climbed over the ridge, and Ned used his staff to pull Fred out. That left their beast friend the sole occupant of the pit. When it felt Fred leave its back, the creature put its front paws on the wall and looked up at them. It whimpered and whined, and its golden eyes pleaded for help.

  Even Pat softened at such a pitiful sight. She glanced over to Ned. "Is there any way to get him out?"

  Ned pulled at his beard and frowned. "Without a pulley system it would be difficult, and we haven't time to craft such a thing."

  "But we can't just leave him down there," she insisted.

  Fred scrunched up his face, and in a moment his eyes widened. He dug into his bag for some of the last bits of meat, and held them out over the wall. "Come on, boy, come here."


  The creature smelled the meat and barked. It made a pitiful jump up the wall, but slid back down. Pat and Ned saw what Fred meant to do and they stepped back from the edge to give the creature room. The beast whimpered and made another feeble attempt. "Come on. You can do it," Fred encouraged.

  The creature whined, dropped its paws off the wall and lumbered away. The youngsters' faces fell; the poor thing had given up. Ned's eyes widened, he grabbed their arms, and turned them around. "We had better give him some space," he told them.

  Pat frowned. "Why? Does he need to cry alone?"

  Ned looked past the pair. "No, he needs some space to land."

  The youngsters swiveled around to see what Ned was looking at. The beast stood at the far end of the hole and faced toward them. It bowed its head low to the ground and wiggled its butt in the air with its face an expression of determination. It pawed the ground, let out a howl and barreled toward them. The companions scrambled out of the way just as the creature hit the wall running. It jumped at the last moment and its claws dug high into the sides a few feet short of the top. It stuck there for a moment until it lifted one front paw and slammed it down into the wall. The stone cracked beneath his paws and it made itself a paw-hold. It climbed its way up the wall and over the top, then flopped down for a breather.

  Ned chuckled. "I think it's a little out of shape," he mused. Fred and Pat hurried over, and the beast lifted its head and wagged its butt. Ned came up behind them and gave the beast a pat on the head. "It seems we have a new companion."

  Fred looked to him with hopeful eyes. "Do you think it'll follow us?"

  "A cantankus will follow a friend to the ends of the earth. The trick is making it a friend," Ned replied with a wink.

  "Let's hope he doesn't slow us down," Pat commented as she glanced at his stubby legs.

  Ned shook his head. "These beasts can go many miles without rest. When it's in shape, that is, and not half starved like this one."

  "What should we name him?" Fred asked them.

  "Fluffy," was Ned's quick reply.

  Pat scrunched up her face and her mouth dropped open. "Fluffy?" she repeated.