The Crown of the Bandit King

by Matti Lena Harris

  “Man, even my teeth have grit in them,” Deeter said, tugging a burr out of his sock.

  “It’ll be dark soon,” Sweet Pea said. “We may as well set up camp. Maybe our luck will change tomorrow. You guys work on the tent. I’ll gather the firewood.”

  “Don’t go out of sight,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  But she just walked off.

  Deeter handed me one of the tent poles.

  “Is there a Collectible that helps a guy understand girls?” I asked.

  Deeter wagged his head. “Wish there was. Girls are weirder than Artisans and their Collectibles combined.”

  I looked at Sweet Pea again. She had moved to an outcropping of boulders on the left side of the canyon. For a minute, I watched her searching among the scrub brush, stooping every now and then to pick up a piece of wood. Then I sighed.

  “Man, don’t worry about it,” Deeter said. “We’re camping, right? Camping is fun. Remember?”

  He slipped a tent pole through one of the loops of the blue canvas. Then another loop. And another. He worked fast, like he was born to set up tents. He completed his side before I’d even finished setting up my first tent pole.

  “How did you finish so quick?” I asked. “You cheated, didn’t you?”

  Then one of my tent poles flew up and smacked me in the face. Deeter burst out laughing, so I scowled at him.

  “Don’t need to cheat,” he said. “You remember how the Ragman shows his new Finders a memory? My memory was a camping trip. Don’t know who else was there with me. My family, I guess. Anyway. I was pitching a blue tent, exactly like this one.”

  So, he knew how to do it because he’d done it before. That explained a lot. Still felt like cheating to me, though.

  “There was a campfire, too,” he added. “I roasted marshmallows over the flames. I like marshmallows. Almost as good as pancakes and peanut butter.”

  He turned and gazed at the fading sunset. All this time, I’d been so busy fighting with my tent poles that I hadn’t even realized how sad he looked. But now, I paused to notice him. Probably he’d been missing his family a lot longer than I’d been missing mine.

  “How long have you been finding Collectibles for the Ragman?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Not sure. It’s easy to lose track of time in the Ragman’s house. Like maybe he’s keeping time in a cupboard somewhere. And when you’re out on a hunt, well, you’re busy thinking ’bout other things, like finding what it is you’re looking for.”

  “And staying alive.”

  “That too.”

  It didn’t seem fair, really. Here we were risking our lives over and over for a bunch of crazy Collectibles while the Ragman spent his time relaxing in his cozy armchair, bidding on magical junk just so he could hoard it all.

  “If I tell you something,” I said, “would you promise to keep it secret?”

  Deeter crossed his heart. “Finder’s honor.”

  “When the Ragman sent me out on my first hunt to find the encyclopedia, remember? I thought then that maybe I could find a Collectible to help me get free. Find something I could use against the Ragman.”

  “Man, that’s no secret worth keeping. There’s not a Finder alive who hasn’t thought something like that sometime. But it never works. Collectors are expecting it. They’re too tricky. And the Collectibles we find—they aren’t powerful enough for that anyway.”

  “What about the Bronze Crown?”

  Deeter grew quiet. He glanced over at Sweet Pea, who was picking up a piece of wood near a juniper tree in the distance.

  “No Finder’s ever used a forbidden Collectible against a Collector,” he said, his voice low.

  “Is there some rule against it?”

  “Man, there isn’t a single rule that can’t be bent or broken in our world. Anything is possible, remember? I’m just sayin’ it’s never been done before.”

  “But it could work, right? The Bronze Crown would be powerful enough. We could command the Ragman to give us our memories back and let us go.”

  “I guess.”

  So what was the problem? Here was our chance to get our memories. To be free. But Deeter only ran his hands along the tent’s poles, and he didn’t look me in the eye.

  “You want to see your family again, right?” I asked.

  He clenched the tent pole so hard I thought it might snap.

  “Of course I want to see them again! You think I like being away from them? Not even knowing their names!”

  He kicked at the sand. I stared at him for a minute, my mouth open. I didn’t think Deeter ever got angry—not like this anyway.

  “Sorry Deet,” I said.

  He took a breath and blew it out again. “It’s nothing. You just…you don’t understand yet.”

  “Understand what?”

  “Collectibles. Once you want them…once you use them, they change you.”

  “But we use Collectibles all the time. The tablecloth. Your plastic ring. The eight ball. Even my kazoo. And we’re fine.”

  “You think those Collectibles haven’t changed you? Fine. I’ll prove it. Throw the Red Kazoo away. Or smash it under a rock. I dare you.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Do I look like I’m joking?”

  I slipped the Red Kazoo out of my pants pocket and studied it. Such a shiny red. And all those voices I could imitate. All the sounds I could make. It had been exactly what I’d needed on the Ferris wheel at the Artisans’ Carnival.

  What if I might need it again?

  “See?” Deeter said. “Not so easy, is it? That’s how things go with Collectibles. Every time you use one, you take a risk.”

  “Risk?”

  “Man, what do you think magic is? Just a bunch of card tricks and a bag of pixie dust? Magic is an addiction. The more it consumes you, the more you crave it. And with a forbidden Collectible like the Bronze Crown? Watch out. Some boundaries you shouldn’t cross.”

  “Why? What happens?”

  Deeter smirked. “You turn into the Ragman.”

  “Enough is never enough for him.”

  “Exactly. But he’s not even the worst. I hate to break it to you, Rookie, but magic ain’t the only thing that’s real in this world. So are the monsters.”

  I shook my head. Deeter was definitely overreacting.

  “I’d only use the crown once,” I said. “To free us. After that, I’d stop.”

  “That’s what everyone says. And they’re always wrong. But whatever you do, don’t tell Sweet Pea your idea. She’d lock you up in a closet just to keep you outta trouble.”

  Yeah, that sounded like something she’d do. I glanced over to look at her, but she wasn’t where she’d been a minute ago. In fact, I couldn’t see her at all.

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  Evening was coming on, and the light was dimming in the canyon. Deeter squinted at the scrub brush, and then he lifted his eyes to the jagged line of the canyon’s ridges.

  “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” he asked.

  There was enough firewood in this area, so Sweet Pea had no reason to go looking for it elsewhere. And there was no reason why she would wander off. Especially without telling us.

  “Sweet Pea!” I called.

  My voice bounced along the canyon walls.

  “We’ll split up to look for her,” Deeter said. “Meet back here in ten minutes. If we haven’t found her by then, we can search the canyon together.”

  He darted off, but I paused. What about my backpack? The Book of All Words was inside, and no way was I leaving that unattended. By the time I’d slung my backpack over my shoulder, Deeter was nowhere in sight. And when the ten minutes were up, he didn’t return to the tent.

  “Deeter!” I yelled.

  I listened, but there were no sounds except for the dry juniper branches rattling and the hot wind whistling down the canyon. I was alone.

  Sweet
Pea and Deeter had vanished.

  Chapter 23

  The Garden Trowel

  “Sweet Pea! Deeter!” I called. “Where are you!”

  I closed my eyes and tried to think. Even if I couldn’t see my friends here in the canyon, there had to be footprints or something to follow. It’d be hard to find clues now that twilight had arrived, though.

  I had to hurry.

  The first trail I found was Sweet Pea’s. Her tracks wandered near a distant juniper tree in no particular direction. Deeter’s trail joined hers a few feet away. And then, nothing. The prints stopped. Right by a bunch of bushes.

  How could their trails simply disappear?

  Beside me, something scurried unseen under a bramble. Probably just a lizard, but it still made me jump and fall backward. Instead of hitting the hard ground, I kept falling. Everything went dark around me, and then I landed with a thud.

  “Ow! Rookie! Get off my leg!” Deeter yelled.

  “Deeter? Is that you?”

  “Who else do you think?”

  “Hold on, let me get my flashlight.”

  After a few seconds spent hunting through my pack, I found my flashlight and turned it on. Sweet Pea and Deeter both stared at me in the small beam of light. We were inside some deep cavern.

  “Man,” Deeter said, “we were hoping you’d rescue us, but now you’re stuck too.”

  “Don’t squabble, Deeter,” Sweet Pea said, “it won’t help us escape. With Rookie’s flashlight, maybe we can find a way out.”

  We gazed up at the opening of the cavern. It was far too high and far too steep to escape without some kind of help. Around us, the broken remains of an old wooden ladder were scattered everywhere, completely useless.

  “Wait a minute, what’s that?” Sweet Pea asked. “Let me have the flashlight for a moment.”

  I handed the light to Sweet Pea, and she pointed its beam at the cavern walls. Someone had scribbled words on the rock with red paint. The words were faded and rough, but still readable.

  DANGER! MINESHAFT! KEEP OUT!

  “Oh, man! I’m getting out of here!” Deeter said, backing away from the wall.

  Sweet Pea put her hands on her hips. “How are you planning on doing that, genius?”

  “Guys? What if this isn’t a mineshaft?” I asked.

  Deeter glanced at the words on the wall again. “Can’t you read?”

  “That’s not what I mean. Shouldn’t there be mining equipment? Like a mine car or mining tracks? It doesn’t look like a mine. And anyone could have painted those words.”

  “Anyone, like maybe the Bandit King?” Sweet Pea said.

  “Exactly. If he wanted to hide the crown, then painting a bunch of warnings to scare people away would be smart.”

  Sweet Pea nodded, then moved the flashlight’s beam along the cavern walls, making the shadows dance behind the rocks and dusty cobwebs. The tunnel led straight ahead, then turned a corner. No telling where it would end, or what we’d find there.

  “We should take a look,” I said.

  “What!” Deeter said. “No way!”

  Sweet Pea sighed. “Oh, relax, Deeter. Maybe there’s another exit somewhere.”

  We stumbled deeper into the cavern, following the tunnel’s unpredictable path. I tripped so often that it seemed like the rocks were trying to get in my way on purpose. We hadn’t gone far when Sweet Pea slowed.

  “The tunnel narrows,” she said, “but I think we can still make it if we…. Are you okay, Rookie?”

  Sure, as long as breathing didn’t matter. The air was so thick here.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “Do you want to rest?”

  Not when we were this close. If I had to, I’d crawl. I forced a breath.

  “Single file,” I said. “You lead.”

  Sweet Pea started down the tunnel. I went second with Deeter behind me. Even though the cavern walls pressed in closer all around us, our footsteps grew louder as we walked. Like there were a hundred feet shuffling along in the dust after us. It wasn’t long before Sweet Pea stopped again.

  “Do you feel that?” she asked.

  Deeter scrunched his mouth like he was thinking. “Sort of tingling, I guess. At the back of the neck. You feel it, Rookie?”

  Feel it? I’d been feeling it for the last ten minutes. Forget the tingling. That was nothing. I felt so jumpy I could’ve been a trampoline. I bent over with my hands on my knees.

  “It’s the magic of the crown,” I said, panting. “We’re close. But there’s something else, too.”

  Sweet Pea tilted her head. “Like what? Another Collectible?”

  “I feel…I feel someone following us.”

  “How could you feel that?”

  “I don’t know. I just do.”

  They both waited while I stared into the darkness behind us. Finally, Deeter shook his head.

  “You’re crazy, Rookie. The Finder’s instinct senses Collectibles. Not people.”

  Probably he was right. After all, how could anyone know we were down here?

  We walked on. Eventually, the tunnel opened into a larger cavern with plenty of room to spread out. It looked like a normal, boring cave, but I knew we’d found the right place.

  “The Bronze Crown,” I said, “it’s here.”

  Deeter knelt and touched the dirt with his fingers. “Yup. Buried. Exactly like the journal said it’d be. There’s more tingling closer to the ground.”

  Just one problem. The Garden Trowel was back at our camp with the rest of Sweet Pea’s stuff. We’d come so far, and yet we still couldn’t get the crown.

  “How do we dig it up?” I asked.

  “We could use our hands,” Deeter said.

  Sweet Pea frowned. “We’ll be here for days if we try to recover the crown that way.”

  A shadow’s movement at the entrance of the cave made us look up, and Sweet Pea aimed the flashlight at the darkness. A man, muscular and clean-shaven, stood there observing us. He wore a familiar tan trench coat and a brown fedora on his head.

  The Detective.

  “So you found the unfindable,” he said. “I’m impressed, kids.”

  Great. He’d caught me at last. I was dead. Not that I could complain—life had been nice while it’d lasted. Was there even time to make a will? Would he at least let me say my final good-byes?

  Sweet Pea and Deeter rushed to stand in front of me.

  “Wait!” Sweet Pea said. “He didn’t do anything wrong!”

  “We swear!” Deeter added. “Don’t take him to the Penitoria! He’s innocent!”

  But the Detective held up his hand. “It’s okay. I’ve already solved the case.”

  “You have?” Deeter asked.

  “I’m the Detective, aren’t I?”

  “So, you know I didn’t start the library fire?” I asked.

  “I know exactly who started the library fire.”

  My name was clear, just like that? It seemed almost too good to be true. Sweet Pea and Deeter both patted me on the back to congratulate me. Then I turned to face the Detective.

  “If you know I didn’t start it, then who did?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” The Detective smiled. “The Librarian. She planned to steal The Book of All Words for herself. Wanted to use it to get the crown. I mean, who’d ever suspect the Librarian would set fire to her own precious library? But you foiled her plan, even if you did it by accident. Good work.”

  He walked to the center of the cavern, knelt down, and placed his hand on the ground.

  “So you think the crown’s here, huh?” he asked. “I never cease to be amazed how you Finders can locate Collectibles so easily. Me, I don’t feel a thing. Not even a tingle. But I know well enough to trust you three, so if you say it’s here, then it’s here. Let’s start digging.”

  Sweet Pea shrugged. “We don’t have any shovels.”

  “Hmm,” the Detective said. “Maybe we don’t need any.”

  He reached into his coat, and whe
n he drew his hand out again, he was holding the Garden Trowel.

  “Where did…that was in Sweet Pea’s bag. How did you get that?” I asked.

  The Detective didn’t answer. Instead, he drove the Garden Trowel into the ground. Deeter and Sweet Pea took a few steps back as if something big was about to happen, so I took a step back too. But the Detective stood unmoved.

  “Find me the crown, Garden Trowel,” he said.

  The Garden Trowel trembled and shook. Then a breeze began to brush against our faces, cooling my cheeks and lifting Sweet Pea’s bangs off her forehead. It blew harder and faster until it seemed to focus on the area surrounding the trowel, like a whirling tornado of dirt. When it stopped and the dust settled, there was a giant hole in the ground in the center of the cave.

  Deeter and Sweet Pea crept to the hole’s edge and peered down.

  “Do you see anything?” Deeter asked. “What is it?”

  “It looks like an old, wooden box,” Sweet Pea answered.

  “Well, let’s climb down and open it!”

  “I think it’s padlocked. Look at it.” Sweet Pea glanced at the Detective. “Do you have anything we can use to open it?”

  “I do indeed,” he said.

  He reached again into his coat pocket, and when he drew out his hand this time, he held a revolver. Deeter’s eyes grew wide, and Sweet Pea backed away from the Detective. They both came and stood by me.

  “You carry a gun?” I asked.

  “Have to,” the Detective said. “I often come across villains in my line of work. This little baby has saved my life on several occasions. Of course, my gun has other uses besides self-defense.”

  He aimed at the padlock and fired, shattering the lock. The sound of the gun ricocheted around the cave, and Sweet Pea let out a cry.

  “Works better than a key,” the Detective said. “Shall we take a look inside?”

  He jumped into the hole and hunched down to examine the box. Deeter and Sweet Pea would have joined him, but I grabbed them both by the wrists and pulled them aside, so the Detective couldn’t hear our conversation.

  “Does something about this seem wrong to you?” I whispered.

  “What do you mean?” Sweet Pea asked.

  “He had the Garden Trowel. That means he searched through your backpacks and stole from you. Why would he do that?”