That all changed when the ground began to move.
The moan of grinding iron filled the silent cave. With each crank, the floor rose a foot or two at a time. Joshua cowered, his arms wrapped around his knees in a protective ball. The distance between him and them was slowly shrinking, and Joshua felt as helpless as ever. He couldn’t jump off or climb his way to safety. His fear of the unknown was coming true before his eyes and he wished he hadn’t gotten mad and screamed at the bad guys. Maybe if he kept his mouth shut, he’d still be in his cell. “I want to go back down,” he cried.
Meanwhile, the iron elevator kept rising, almost halfway there. In a matter of minutes, Joshua would stand face to face with his captors.
I’m not supposed to be here, he thought. I should be home right now, playing in the woods, throwing the football or pretending to be sick so I can play hooky from school. This isn’t fair. But then he heard a voice in his head. “The best a boy can do is to look trouble in the eye, regardless of his fear, and fight with courage. That’s true bravery.”
Joshua raised his head, spitting at the wall in disgust. “You don’t do this to a Braden,” he said, placing his hands on the wall and pressing with all his might. “I’m not going to sit here so they can use me for Thanksgiving dinner.” It was no use, however—it was like trying to slow an escalator with a safety pin. He grabbed one of the chains and threw all his weight upon it, but his sixty-pound body was no match against forged steel, and Joshua saw the light from the top growing brighter. He jumped up and down on the floor. “Nobody does this to a Braden,” he screamed.
Joshua was tired of being ordered around by these creeps—having to eat their stupid berries, being forced to sleep on a hard floor, being taking hostage without even knowing why. “Nobody forces me into anything.” Joshua pulled hard on the chain, trying to slow it down. “The only people that can order me around are my mom and dad …”
Joshua let go of the chain. For a second, he’d forgotten. His mind flashed back to the day of the funeral. He saw his mom and Daniel standing on the steps, about to enter the mausoleum. She didn’t force him to come, though. It surprised him in a way; he expected her to after the tantrum he’d thrown. But, instead, she knelt beside him and kissed him on the cheek, then she and Daniel stepped inside.
“She’s the only person who can tell me what to do!” Joshua tightened his mouth in anger. “Nobody else! Do you understand? Nobody!” Seconds later, the floor stopped moving.
This was it, what he’d been waiting for. Joshua kept his fists clenched, so much so that his knuckles turned red. “Bring it on,” he whispered.
As Staggor locked the massive wheel in place and turned to face Joshua, Joshua did his best to portray an attitude of courage. But it was difficult. In the dark, Staggor appeared as a shadow, a phantom figure with a hidden face. Now, Joshua saw Staggor was as much lizard as man and couldn’t take his eyes off him, especially his tail, which was scaly and looked to have been injured multiple times by deep cuts.
Their eyes met, but neither flinched. Joshua refused to blink—there was no way he was letting anyone see him scared. Staggor showed no hint of emotion. He looked at Joshua with an expressionless stare, though something appeared hidden within his eyes. Whether it was compassion or hatred, it was impossible to tell. Staggor had probably seen enough over the years that nothing fazed him.
Joshua was so focused on Staggor—and shocked by his features—that he hadn’t laid eyes upon the bare room, the open doorway, not even the enormous wheel that raised him from the ground. He’d also failed to notice the giant standing at the opposite end of the room, which he saw out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, no, not you again!”
They were meeting for the second time. Ralmaghar, the one who captured Joshua outside the mausoleum and lifted him as easily as he would a wet newspaper, the one who took him through the blue light, and the one standing in front of him now, watching Joshua with black eyes. Their first encounter was bad enough and it happened in Grisby, on Joshua’s home turf. How much worse would it be this time around? Joshua hastily looked around, not wanting to go through the introductions of a second meeting. He saw the open doorway and ran as hard as he could for it.
Ralmaghar, without a hint of panic, flashed his arm in that direction. The heavy wooden door slammed shut before Joshua reached it. The brass bolt lifted and slid into its chamber, locking the entrance and preventing Joshua’s escape.
Joshua pounded his fists against the door. “What do you want with me? Huh? Tell me, Ugly-Face. What do you want?”
Ralmaghar remained silent, which frustrated Joshua more. “Come on, Ugly-Face. If you’re so tough, say something. You think you’re tough, picking on a boy. Why don’t you try picking on someone your own size? I bet you aren’t so tough, then. You’ll probably run away and hide like a little—”
“Enough talking,” Ralmaghar said, lifting his arm and turning his palm upward.
“You’re so ug—” Joshua felt something tighten in his throat. Huh? He put his hands to his neck. Something was happening, stuff was moving around in there. He tried to massage his throat but pulled his hands away. It was gross and felt like worms. Joshua felt the sudden urge to gag and coughed open his mouth.
Vines were growing from Joshua’s throat. Dozens of them, green vines, twisting and twirling together. Quickly, with rapid precision, they stuck through the skin of his mouth, in and out, sewing his lips like sutures. Joshua stood in shock, looking down cross-eyed at what was happening. The vines were stitching his mouth shut, like an old lady does with her needlepoint. “Mmmmm.” Joshua raised his fist and tried to speak. “Mmmmm Mmmmm,” was all he managed.
Ralmaghar took a step forward. He may have been closer to eight feet tall, and Joshua realized he didn’t even come up to his waist. Joshua ripped at the sewn vines with both of his hands but couldn’t loosen them. They wouldn’t budge.
“Follow me,” Ralmaghar ordered. He lifted his torch, unbolted the door, and stepped into the hallway.
Chapter 25
Ralmaghar
To Joshua’s horror, Staggor stayed behind, leaving him in a dark corridor with Ralmaghar. It was almost more than he could bear—almost. Joshua’s capacity to endure had grown more in the past days than in all his years combined.
It wasn’t as if Staggor was the friendliest of creatures, nor the easiest on the eyes. He was half lizard and fully grotesque, but if Joshua had to choose between the lesser of two evils, he’d take Staggor over Ralmaghar any day of the week and twice on Saturday. With a pleading look, as if to say, “Please don’t leave me alone with him,” Joshua met Staggor’s eyes. Staggor, in turn, shut the door in his face.
The hallway was dark. Its walls were narrow and high, and the shadows cast by the torchlight played tricks with Joshua’s mind. Perhaps it was because of the damp air, or maybe the fact that he’d been locked alone for days, but whatever the case, Joshua saw strange shapes within the shadows. Goblins and ghouls floated past him. A host of bats flew by and, for a second, it looked like one of them was reaching to grab him. Joshua put his arms in front of his face to protect himself. When he looked up, all he saw was a normal shadow.
Okay, I’m imagining things. They can’t be real. Here, I’ll prove it. He reached out to touch the wall and, as his hand grazed the surface, a humongous spider crawled over his knuckles. Its legs were bristly and hairy, and Joshua jumped in fright, violently drawing back his arm. They’re shadows. They’re not real, so don’t touch!
Joshua was embarrassed about getting scared over a silly shadow and imagined the abuse Daniel would give him if he were there to see it. Of course, what would Daniel say if he saw Joshua’s mouth tied together with vines? “Why didn’t I think of that? I’ve been looking for a way to shut you up for years.” That would be Daniel’s most likely response, then he’d beg Ralmaghar to show him the trick so he could use it on future occasions.
Joshua put his fingers to his lips and felt the vines. How did he do
it? Or the thing with the door? It had all been too bizarre … too magic. Magic. The word stuck in his mind. Was it possible he was standing in the presence of a real magician? Joshua focused his attention on Ralmaghar. His head almost bumped the ceiling as he walked, while his cloak draped the floor behind him.
One thing’s for sure, if he is a magician, then he’s in a whole different league than the cheesy guys in tuxedos who pull bunnies out of top hats and pretend to saw ladies in half onstage.
No, if those guys were considered magicians and everything they did was done by trick mirrors and two-sided coins, this guy was a not a magician. He was something far greater. If there is such a thing as a real-life wizard, he is definitely one of them.
The hallway came to a dead end. Ralmaghar bent low and leaned into the wall, close enough to kiss it, and whispered foreign words Joshua didn’t understand. The ground roared and a door rolled back. “Go,” Ralmaghar said, pointing toward the open doorway. Joshua, hiding his eyes from Ralmaghar’s gaze, stepped into a dark stairwell.
Ralmaghar lifted his torch and shined the light on a steep and winding staircase. Joshua looked up and saw stairs, hundreds of them, maybe more, winding around a metal base like stripes on a candy cane. “Go,” said Ralmaghar, brusquely.
Joshua hesitantly stepped onto the lowest stair. Is that the only word you know? You could at least ask politely, jerk.
With a magnificent gesture, Ralmaghar stretched both arms overhead, torch in one hand, palm of the other turned outward. With arms extended, Ralmaghar was enormous, a colossus atop a pedestal, and Joshua’s first thought was that he could probably dunk a basketball without even standing on his tiptoes. Ralmaghar pointed his torch at the wall and flames exploded from his hand, lighting the wall on fire.
Joshua watched in amazement, his eyes as round as saucers. The blaze spread instantly, rising higher and higher, engulfing the wall in scarlet flame. Had his mouth not been sewn shut, it wouldn’t have mattered—Joshua still would have been speechless. A wall of flame, encircling a stairwell of a thousand steps, stretched as far as the eye could see. By pointing his torch, Ralmaghar had thrown a quilt of fire over the room, and if Joshua had any remaining doubt about Ralmaghar being an authentic wizard, it was forever put to rest.
Ralmaghar turned his palm upward and, with a sudden jolt, the steps jerked forward and began to rise. Joshua tumbled headfirst, unprepared for the force of the movement. He wrapped his arms around the base of his stair, holding as tightly as he could, but the steps moved too fast and he quickly lost his grip. Looking down, Joshua gasped in fear. They were soaring high above the ground, surrounded on all sides by fire—and he was about to fall off.
He grabbed hold of the pointed edge of the stair, which dug into his hands. Joshua looked around for anything else to hold and that’s when he realized the steps weren’t attached to anything. No levers, bars, or mounting rods. Like separate islands in an ocean, each step floated on its own, nothing holding it in place, spinning around the stairwell in an ascending, spiraling motion. Now, this is a good trick, Joshua thought, pulling himself aboard the step.
Faster and faster the stairs flew. With each time around, Joshua got dizzier and dizzier, so much so that he thought he might throw up. Just look straight ahead, he reminded himself, hugging the step with both arms. Don’t look down, no matter what.
As Joshua fixed his gaze on the wall in front of him, he felt the heat on his face. Perhaps he should have shut his eyes, but he didn’t. For some reason, he felt compelled to watch. Like riding a roller coaster, there is an excitement that comes with fear. And one thing was for sure, there wasn’t a coaster in California that came close to matching this.
As the blaze bristled, the sounds intensified. From within the flame, a voice cried out. It started as a faint whisper, nothing more than a breeze, but the voice grew and multiplied into a host of others. Faces emerged from the flames, hundreds of them, their skin stretched like tanned hide. They writhed in agony; their cries pierced Joshua’s ears. Tortured faces, as far as Joshua could see, screaming for escape.
The voices stopped and the faces retreated into the flames. With no warning, the stairs lunged forward and kicked into a higher gear. They sprinted upward, circling the base of the stairwell. Joshua’s legs flailed, as he desperately tried to hold on. He had one hope left—Ralmaghar, the one he feared the most.
Joshua looked up at the giant standing placidly against the backdrop of fire, perfectly balanced and callously indifferent. Help me!
Ralmaghar stared calmly ahead, paying no attention to Joshua.
Thanks a lot, jerk! His fingers slipped … and Joshua fell.
What a place to find oneself, caught between safety and disaster. The sensations and images came too fast for Joshua to make sense of them. Colors brighter than any he’d seen, tones more resplendent than any he’d heard. Past the spinning staircase he fell, reaching for anything, finding nothing. Helpless, Joshua plunged from a hundred and fifty feet.
Ralmaghar reached out his arm without bothering to look. In fact, he didn’t so much as turn his head. He raised his arm and curled his fingers inward. As quickly as Joshua had fallen, he was now raised. The stairs whizzed by in a blur, as the fire continued its scarlet burn. Joshua landed on his original step, as the stairwell came to a stop.
Ralmaghar waved his hand at a stone door and it slowly rolled back. “Come,” he commanded, stepping through the entryway. Still dizzy, Joshua stumbled, though he managed to stay on his feet. Teetering, he followed Ralmaghar through the doorway—into the Hall of Meruzilak.
Chapter 26
Searchlights
The afternoon passed. It settled into early evening, and Daniel was bored. Well, maybe he wasn’t bored but he was restless. If he was going to be on vacation, he didn’t want to spend every minute cooped up in Alistair’s cabin. The problem was he didn’t dare ask Alistair to go exploring. He knew the answer he’d get. He didn’t want Alistair tagging along, either.
Nothing against the guy; in fact, Daniel was starting to like him. But he desperately wanted some alone time and it left him with one option. If I can sneak out of our house as many times as I have and never get caught, I’m pretty sure I can sneak out of this one. He grabbed his pack and climbed out the bedroom window.
Now, this was more like it. Daniel looked around at the scenery and nodded with approval. Finally, he’d get to enjoy some peace and quiet and explore the woods around Alistair’s property. “This is what vacations were made for,” he said.
The twilight was calm and the cool breeze blew across his face. He realized it was the first chance he’d had in days to relax. It was like he’d been caught in a whirlwind and was finally being set down. Daniel thought about his mom and Joshua and wondered if they were worried about him. He felt guilty but told himself, “I’ll see them soon enough, and then I’ll make it up to them.”
Whatever this place was, Daniel noticed, it was stunning. The colors appeared a little more vibrant here, the landscape a touch more awe-inspiring. The hills rolled more and the wind blew in a quiet whisper. All in all, everything was more—how could he put it?—more painted here. He ran down an embankment and stumbled upon a small riverbed. Several lily pads dotted the surface of the water and Daniel saw a small frog leaping from pad to pad. Seeing the frog made him happy—it was good to know some things didn’t change, no matter where you were. Daniel picked up a handful of rocks and skipped them across the water.
Walking the riverbed, he thought about what Alistair told him after lunch about Meruzilak and the portal, and how Illiana and her friends were never allowed to return home. He couldn’t imagine not being able to see his home again, or his friends and family. How many times had he joked about it over the years, about wanting to run away and be on his own? Too many to count. But truth be told, it scared him to think about being completely on his own. Though he enjoyed getting away and exploring new places, what made it worthwhile was knowing he could always return to his
own bed.
Daniel sat on the bank of the river and took off his pack. He held up the onyx and looked at it closely, remembering the way it felt in his hand in the library. So what does this have to do with everything?
Alistair said Cornelius perceived cause and effect. But what did that mean? Illiana had a premonition of something terrible happening in their world. But being trapped on earth, they were powerless to stop it. Cornelius, looking many years into the future (“many, many, many years into the future,” Alistair added) saw a way to make right what had been done, and it involved Daniel and the stone he was carrying.
“It’s got to be a mistake,” Daniel told him. “There’s no way this was meant for me. They’ve got the wrong guy. It’s as simple as that.”
Alistair was less convinced. “Did you ever have a suspicion there was more to your family than you knew, or there were secrets no one had told you? Have you never seen strange occurrences you couldn’t explain? Of course, you have. You couldn’t explain them so you ignored them. But they were there, hidden deep, waiting to surface. Waiting until the moment was right.”
Until the moment was right. That part stuck with him and Daniel whispered it several times aloud. “What did Alistair mean, when the moment was right? When is the moment ever right? All my life, I’ve never been anywhere but the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Yeah, there had been some weird things, but weird things happened in every family. His friend Scott was born with six toes, but that didn’t mean he was a wizard.
Daniel kept moving. He saw a group of trees in the distance and wanted to check them out. They didn’t look like any trees he’d seen before, thicker at the base, with low-hanging willows. Their appearance was solemn, mysterious; in fact, the area itself was darker, almost sanctuary-like, as if separate from the rest of the land. Separate on purpose.
Daniel moved among them. How long had they been here—a thousand years, a million years? How did time work in this place, anyway? Alistair said the Magicals couldn’t remain on earth too long or they’d get old. Daniel wondered how that worked. Was it like some weird space-time continuum? When I get back home, will I still look the same? What if I get back and I’ve skipped all the way to the ninth grade? I might be the only one in my class with a beard.
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