Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series) (56 page)

Needle
came back
through the door
.
He
took
Glory
by the shoulders, holding h
er
at arm
’
s length
to meet h
is
gaze
.
“There
be
only three rules:  One: ye can blow this whistle to summon us and we will get ye out
pending a negotiation
.
”

He
pulled a pearly bird-shaped whistle on a chain out of
his
glittery
green
vest.
“
Two: ye cannot
exit
through the
red
door unless ye
are carried
out
by one of us
.

“
Three: if ye manage to escape
the
Bamboozle on your own,
ye pass and
can never be tested again.
”

He
placed the whistle
around
Glory
’s
neck
.
His scratchy voice deepened
.
“
Remember, blow the w
histle and we will come.
”

“But, what do I do
?
How do I get out of the Bamboozle
?
Are the doors locked
?
Do I need a key
?
”

“Only the whistle
,
or a
show of selflessness
,
can end each test
.
Since
the latter
be
difficult to come by
in
a species so lacking
,
ye better hang tight to the whistle.”

White Feather gave h
er
a rough shove through the square door
.
Glory
fell and came up with a mouthful of sand
.

“May
the
Elboni
’s magic
be with ye,” Needle said and slammed the door
, which
instantly vanished and became one with the wall of sand
.

Glory
spit out sand granules and
ran to the part of the wall where the square door had been
only a second ago
.
Only
hard
rough
brick made of white sand
met her fingertips
.

She pounded the wall.
“Let me out!”

Nobody answered
.

The
shadowy
Bamboozle felt like priso
n
, or worse, a tomb.
M
aybe h
er
brothers were right
about her being bonkers
.
She slid down the wall to a seated position.
Sunlight poured through the
tall stack
creating a bright circle at
the center of the
ground.

“This is just a really bad, BAD dream.
”
She
said aloud, banging
the back of
her head against the wall.
“Wake up
.
Wake up
.
Wake up.”

S
he lifted the bird whistle to her mouth to end the test.
“Wait, what am I d
oing?
”
She studied the whistle
—
such a shiny little bird
—
so sweet and inviting.
“
Wait. T
his is what they want
you to do
—
panic
—
so you’ll trade your freedom for the stone.”
She let the whistle drop to her chest.
“Keep your eyes on the treasure
, Glo.
”

“Bamboozle
,” she whispered.
“
I’m
not going anywhere, so you
m
ight as well show me what you got.”

S
ilence
.

“Oh, I see, your strategy is to bore me to death.
”

Rubbing h
er
temples,
s
he
studied
the three painted doors
barely perceptible in the shadowy edges of the structure
.
Where did they lead?
Outside? To another world? Perhaps they
were holding something back
?

Shapes were significant in Wybb
.
We
re colors too
?

She
tapped a
n index
finger
on her chin
—
thinking
.
Green
reminded her
of moss
.
But maybe it stood for sickness because people turned green w
hen nauseous
.
And
wasn’t
that the color of envy
?
Wh
at
the heck should
I do
?
Her brothers complained
that
she was too slow about things
.
If I think about it too much, I won’t do anything at all
. Let’s see, l
eaves are green
.
Maybe the door is symbolic for garden. A garden means life
.
Glory
decided to try the green door first.

Sh
e plowed through the thick sand into the dimly lit edge of the Bamboozle
.
The
door felt
metallic and
cool to the touch
.
A brass handle rested at the center
.
What
terrible thing waited behind it? D
on’t think about it,
she cheered herself on. You can do it, Glo. I
gnore the fear and
simply
do it
.

Heart thumping,
s
h
e tugged a
t
the
handle, opening the door a
mere crack.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she peeked through.

Eyes widened curiously
.
Sand,
and
more sand, an open sky
.
The sun shimmered above
the
baking land
, so hot she could see heat vapors rising from the ground
and
a
stretch of
beach
with palm trees far in the distance.

Her heart leapt
.
She’d
found the way out on
the first try
!

Congratulating h
erself for
having reasoned it all out,
s
he pulled the door wide open
.
Chin up
s
he marched through it
, b
ut when
s
he stepped through
,
the  beach disappeared, replaced by a
narrow
metal chamber
lined with
foggy windows
.
B
r
own bench seats filled
the floor
. A thin
aisle
ran
down the center. F
amiliar faces star
ed
up at her
.
The school bus?
I’m on the friggin’
school bus
.

Scratching h
er
temple,
s
he couldn’t
even
remember getting out of bed this morning
.
Now
s
he
stood
in front of Mrs. Spud with ba
ckpack slung over one shoulder
.
Everything
felt
out of whack
, but
s
he couldn’t put h
er
finger on
the why of it
.