Rook_Revenge

by Michael D. Young

  Man, he’d better not have too many days like this, or this job was going to kill him.

  Chapter 7: New Aaron

  From the Quest Log of Phillip Witz: Entry 2

  After a tearful good-bye with my family, I stepped out of the door I had approached, but not gone through, for many years. I did so with my sword raised, not knowing what I might find on the other side. My mind conjured up pictures of horrible creatures and phantoms, so when I opened the door and saw a very old man with a bushy beard, I didn't really know what to think.

  The first words out of his mouth, however, made me realize that he knew me. "Phillip!" he cried over and over again. He clapped his hands on my shoulders, his eyes wild and crazed. I didn't know what to do for a few moments, but as I looked back at him, my memories took over. It was Mercurio, my traveling companion the first time I started this quest. But that didn’t make sense. He had been about my age when we entered the Corridor, and now he looked like he could have been my grandfather.

  I said his name, and that seemed to calm him down a bit. Then I asked him how long he had been there. "Ever since you went through that door," he replied. “After you went in, I couldn't follow you, and I also haven't been able to get out. I've made many trips into the maze, but I've always returned here, hoping to find the door open. I have set up a camp not far from here, and have managed to find rooms containing edible plants. Looks like you've done pretty well for yourself."

  It's hard to accurately describe the shame I felt at hearing his tale. Until this moment, I had completely forgotten him. I still did not understand why he appeared so much older. When I asked him to explain, he said something like, "Time flows differently in different rooms in this maze. It’s part of the enchantment of this place. Every year, I've aged much more than I should have, and it looks like you stayed about constant. We should never have come."

  We sat and talked for a while longer. He revealed that he had never been able to find the knight Takka and his family, especially because many of the rooms required more than one person to get through them, and he was questing alone. He showed me a long hallway full of doors, where each room had a different puzzle that needed to be solved before he could progress down the hallway. He had already worked out the solution to many, including a large, circular room with doors all around the perimeter. He had figured out that they represented the face of a clock. In order to escape from the room, you had to enter one of the doors at the exact moment indicated by a constantly draining hourglass.

  When we managed to reach the end of the hallway, we stopped before the massive stone door there. "This is where my knowledge ends," he said. “I've tried to figure out how to pass this, but I cannot. It is the most absurd riddle of all.”

  We walked through and found ourselves in an enormous chamber filled with stone statues. Another broad door stood mounted on the far wall, protected by what appeared to be a dragon statue. Warriors of all sorts stood around the floor, holding swords, spears, bows, and everything in between. It looked as though they would give battle to the dragon, but as many as there were, the hulking creature seemed more dangerous.

  Mercurio indicated a gold key on a pedestal not far from where we stood. "You give the key to one of the stone warriors and they'll come to life, trying to get past the dragon guarding the door. I’ve given the key to every single warrior on the floor, but they always fall to the dragon’s fire, claws, or teeth. Once they’re defeated, they return to these positions, ready to start again. I had given up hope, and so I returned to the door where I left you."

  I spent a very long time studying all of the statues. We watched a few battles so I could get an idea firsthand. As I looked, I realized that many of the statues were patterned after famous figures from our history, especially those who had fought valiantly and lost. I wondered for a horrible moment if they really might be fallen knights turned to stone.

  It was then that I noticed an empty pedestal at the far end of the board. I watched after each battle and saw that no statue returned to that particular spot, which gave me an idea. I told Mercurio to bring the key, and I climbed onto the pedestal myself. He handed me the key with the reminder that if this worked, I would likely not come back to life after being scorched by dragon flame.

  All the other statues came to life and rallied around me as the dragon leaped from its perch and into the air, blowing a long plume of flame in our direction. At once, I realized I had made a fatal mistake.

  * * *

  The rest of the day passed pretty normally, and Rich kept a close eye on all the golf balls he was using. It seemed like whoever was attacking him didn't want to do it in the open, but save it for when he was cornered. He decided to try not to be completely alone, especially when walking into closets.

  He had to walk his bike most of the way home because his arms and legs hurt so badly. When he got there, he could only think about taking a hot shower and collapsing into bed. Aunt Laura met him at the front door, though, and he could hear Marie and Erika’s excited voices inside. "What's going on, Aunt Laura?"

  Laura, who still wore overalls and a heavy-duty shirt from working on the farm that morning, put her hands on her hips and tipped her head to one side with a knowing smile. "You'll never guess who just called out of the blue—Aaron! The girls are talking him right now on a video call on my tablet. I think they’ve both got a little crush on him, but only Erika will admit it."

  Rich momentarily forgot his pain and rushed inside the house, pretty surprised that Aaron had figured out how to use the video chat app. The girls sat on the couch in the living room, fighting over the tablet and making ridiculous faces at the screen. They didn't seem to notice when Rich walked right up to the couch to snatch the tablet from them.

  "You can have it back when I’m done, girls," Rich said, ignoring their protests. He ran upstairs to his bedroom and plopped on the bed. After his first look at Aaron, he did a double take. "Wow, Aaron. What did you do to your hair?"

  Aaron’s hair now appeared much shorter, and even had a part in it. "Ha, ha. It's all part of my new assignment. I begged them not to do it, but they wouldn't listen. It's awful."

  Rich laughed softly. "Don't suppose you could tell me about this assignment of yours. It's all right if you can’t, but I’m hoping you can give me some help with mine."

  Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Tell me about it."

  Rich let him know about the Mallory sighting, and then about the battle with the golf golem. The look on Aaron’s face turned more and more concerned. "Your nemesis should not have this much power already,” he muttered.

  "Any suggestions?" Rich asked. "It'd be a really stupid way to go—getting beaten to death by killer golf balls."

  Aaron thought for a few moments before responding. "I'll bring this up with Minerva and the others. They could authorize some additional help for you. I don't know exactly what. I’d come and help you myself, but…" He patted his new hairdo.

  Rich frowned, wishing he could say something to convince Aaron to do just that.

  "Don't worry, Rich. Remember, you have what it takes to stand up against your nemesis. You’re strong, clever, and brave, just the kind of might we need. I'll get back to you soon with something.”

  Rich rubbed his eyes. “It feels like it's midnight, with how tired I am."

  "I'll let you go, then," Aaron said. He looked from side to side and then leaned close to the screen. "Tell the girls I had to go. I told them that they're both beautiful, and they shouldn't fight over who looks better. That was about the first twenty minutes of our conversation."

  Rich laughed and managed to smile. "Thanks, Aaron. It’s good to see you." Aaron waved and fumbled around on the screen, trying to turn off the video call. After three or four tries, he succeeded. Ric
h’s head hit the pillow, and he didn't even wake up for dinner.

  Chapter 8: Steamed Up

  From the Quest Log of Phillip Witz: Entry 2, continued

  Honestly, I hadn’t thought my idea would work, and so it took a few seconds for my brain to catch up with the fact that there was a dragon headed right toward me, intent on making me barbecue. I activated my rook powers just in time and turned myself momentarily to stone as the dragon’s flames swept over me. It did little more than raise my temperature a bit.

  The second the flames died out, I looked around at the statues and found them in full retreat. I had to do something in order to build their confidence in me, so I used my castling power to switch positions with several of them one right after another as soon as they were in harm’s way. I was able to save many of them, and with my ability to turn to stone, I avoided being hurt by the dragon’s fire.

  I continuing castling, trying to move closer and closer to the portal in the far wall. I still clutched the golden key in my hand, and kept my eyes firmly fixed on the keyhole. I thought I was almost in the clear when the dragon slammed its body down directly in front of the door. Seeing that its flames could do nothing to me, it lashed out with its claws, nearly taking off my head. Turning to stone wouldn’t do me much good there. I dodged once or twice, but then found myself completely wrapped around by the dragon’s tail.

  It reared back its massive head to let its teeth finish the job. Just then, the mob of statues rushed the beast as one, flinging themselves onto it with their weapons outstretched. A few of them jumped over it and headed for the exit. I saw my chance. I castled with one of those by the door, figuring that the dragon would be distracted while I inserted the key.

  The moment I jammed the key into the lock, the entire room filled with the whooshing of a strong wind, and all the pieces, including the dragon, returned to their original spots. Mercurio ran to me, waving his arms, his long beard trailing out behind him like a comet’s tail.

  “That, my friend, was impressive!”

  As we continued, I tried to think about the place where I just left, but found that I could barely hold it in my mind. I tried to picture where I had lived and the people I knew there, but I couldn’t even bring up a single face. But Helena and Rich … they are easy to remember and to picture in my mind.

  I am starting to make a horrible realization. Maybe I have been living with an illusion all this time—a dream meant to keep me trapped in this maze forever. Who would ever want to leave when surrounded by so many comforts?

  As horrible as that seems, it does make one thing clear.

  I will do anything to see my real family again.

  * * *

  Rich arrived at the community center early again to get a better look at the obstacle course. This was no kiddie course. It had monkey bars over a mud pit, a steep wall to scale, a zip line, a row of tires to run through, and finally a balance beam over another pit of mud. Chances were, he was going to get very dirty, one way or the other.

  He thought about trying it once before everyone got there, but it didn't take long for a bunch of other employees to show up, some of them carrying paintball guns. Nadia arrived last, carrying the largest paintball gun of them all. "Hey, Richie, you actually showed up. Thought you might fake a cold or something."

  Rich shook his head, trying to look more confident than he felt. "No way. I'm here, and I'm ready. How does this work?"

  Nadia handed her paintball gun to an employees who didn't have one, and walked to the beginning of the course. “First, I'm gonna show you how it's done, and then I'm gonna watch you do it and laugh my head off. Sound good?"

  Rich tried to laugh, though he thought it sounded a bit forced. "We’ll see. Do I get a gun too?"

  "Sure, why not?" She nodded to a guy with an extra gun, and he handed it to Rich. "One person sits at each of the different parts of the course. You’re allowed to fire once every ten seconds. Just count off ten-Mississippi after a fire. And a person gets ten seconds on each part before you make your first shot. Got it? Whatever part of the body you hit can't be used again, like an arm or leg. Hit someone in the chest or back, and they’re done. No aiming for the head."

  Rich took up his place at the station with the tires, and Nadia went to the starting line. Another female employee with a stopwatch raised her arms. "Ready, set, go!"

  Nadia almost flung herself at the monkey bars and took the rungs two at a time. The first guy didn't even get to ten seconds so he could make the shot before she was out of there. She leaped onto the climbing wall and scrambled up. This time, however, the shooter only got to pull the trigger once. It barely missed, splattering the course with bright green paint.

  Nadia snagged the zip line, hit the ground running, and rushed through the tires as though they weren’t there.

  Now it was Rich’s turn to take aim. He counted down from ten-Mississippi, trying to keep her in his sights. She had almost reached the end when he reached zero and fired, aiming for her back. The shot flew way too low, exploding in a red burst of paint against one of the tires on the ground.

  Finally, she ran across the balance beam like it was nothing, and didn't even give the last person time for a final shot. The second her feet hit the ground, the person with the stopwatch yelled, “Time!"

  Nadia turned, breathing a little faster. "How’d I do?” she called.

  “You did it!" the timer cried. "Shaved a whole second off the overall record. Wait till we tell Brock you beat him!"

  Rich let the gun fall to his side, his jaw hanging open. It looked like Nadia had both brains and brawn, so why had she always made fun of him so much? True, things had gotten a lot better since the end of the school year, but she seemed to want to prove that she was better than him for some reason.

  "Okay, Richie,” she said, holding out her hand for his gun. “Let's see you try it."

  Rich staggered over to the starting line, resisting the urge to throw up. Even if he could get through the course, there was no way he’d do it as well as Nadia. The same timer gave the countdown and then hollered at Rich to go.

  Rich dashed to the monkey bars and jumped up to the first rung. He got going a little too fast, and one hand slipped off. He hung there for a moment, and it took him a few seconds to right himself. But just as he got both hands back on the bars, he felt a thump of pain as a bright orange paintball slammed into one elbow.

  A chorus of "Nice!" and “Good shot!" came from the others, and Rich knew he had to drop that limb. He hung by one arm from the monkey bars, not knowing what in the world he could do next.

  On the way back to the center to get cleaned up, he saw Angela, who let out an audible gasp and lectured him all the way back to the showers about peer pressure and being irresponsible. She found a new shirt and practically shoved him into the bathroom.

  Rich accepted his fate, glad there was no one else in the bathroom to see him. He turned on the hot water in the shower to full blast, filling the room full of steam to keep himself hidden from anyone who might walk in. Under the cover of steam, he undressed and positioned himself under the falling water.

  The water around his feet immediately turned dark with all the caked-on mud. He turned suddenly as he thought he heard someone whispering.

  "Hey, is anyone there?" Rich called out. He realized he was alone again, with no one to stand witness. Would his nemesis create some sort of monster out of towels to attack him next? He hoped not, as getting snapped with a towel really stung, especially when you weren't wearing . . . well, anything.

  A few seconds later, the voice came again. "Worthless."

  Grateful he still had some steam cover, Rich poked his head outside the bank of showers to see if someone was talking in ano
ther part of the bathroom. Sound did travel pretty well in there, but he didn’t see anyone.

  Rich returned to the shower, intent on finishing up and trying to get out of there as soon as possible. As he looked into the swirling steam, it was like he could see an image floating there, like a movie. All sorts of scenes appeared, one after another, and some even repeated themselves, but they had a single theme—failure. He saw himself as if through someone else’s eyes, failing in every way—from falling into the mud on the obstacle course to getting answers wrong in class to getting pummeled by dodge balls in gym class to getting knocked into the water when he fought his nemesis.

  Rich shook his head and tried to close his eyes against the images. It had to be some sort of evil spell. The voice spoke louder, always the same word—“Worthless." He shut his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears to tune it out, but it was no use. The sound intensified, and the room grew hotter by the minute.

  Rich cried out and slipped, both his knees hitting hard on the tile floor. He tried with all his might to fight back against the voice and images, but it felt like pouring a single bucket of water on a raging house fire. He needed to get rid of the steam because somehow, it was allowing these images to be projected.

  Rich fumbled to the wall and grasped the shower dial, turning it as cold as it would go. He then returned to his hunched position on the floor, trembling. He found the doubts coming not only from outside, but surfacing from inside as well. He had failed so many times, and was bound to fail many, many more. It likely wouldn’t be long before he failed when it mattered most, and the dark knights would win. This was too much for him. Maybe he should just give up before his nemesis started taking things out on his family. If he kept fighting, a lot of people could get hurt.

  Rich scrambled back as something appeared in front of him in the clearing mist. He had seen this a few times before—a mailbox with the flag up, appearing out of nowhere. But this time, it didn't look like the one he’d seen before. Instead, it looked like a mailbox fit for a bathroom.