Kingdom Keepers VI (9781423179214) (28 page)

Chernabog. As nasty and terrifying a creature as Finn had ever seen. His skin crawled as though he were covered with leeches.

“He's huge,” Maybeck whispered. Given the jungle sounds he could have shouted and not have been heard. But Chernabog had stunned him to silence.

“He's disgusting,” Charlene said. “Eew! Is that a bull's head?”

“And bat ears,” Finn said.

“Eight feet tall at least,” the professor said clinically. “Possibly ten. A living monster.”

“We've got to get out of here,” Willa said, her words hanging in the thick air. “He's…worse than anything we've ever seen.”

“And then some,” said Charlene. “Do we really think we can help Dillard against
that
thing?”

“We don't leave yet,” said Philby.

“The three steps,” said Finn. “A witch, a key
flower, a sacrifice. It's about Chernabog. We were right.”

“Yeesh!” Willa said. “They're going to take him out of torpor!”

“Tia Dalma,” Philby said.

“You give something that…evil even more power,” Willa's voice was hollow, “and it's over.”

“Son of Frankenstein,” Maybeck said.

“Dillard doesn't possess any powers,” Charlene said. “So maybe it won't work.”

“We're not Wayne! We're not going to let them kill him to find out!” Finn said, too loudly. Tia Dalma raised her head.

“Freeze!” Philby hissed.

The Keepers did not move, did not breathe. It felt to Finn as if the voodoo priestess was looking him directly in the eye, but somehow she didn't see him.

He could feel her straining to hear above the constant sounds of the jungle.

She called over to the Queen, who raised her thin arms and stepped out into the courtyard.

The jungle went instantly silent. Every last living thing stopped singing and buzzing, moving, breathing. Only the leaves, dripping the remnants of the rain shower, could be heard.

Finn's heart threatened to tear a hole in his chest. If it pounded any louder the OTs would hear.

Bit by bit, nature's sounds returned. First a whisper, then a wind, and finally a storm of all God's creatures.

“I know that symbol,” Willa said softly. Pointing across the courtyard to an exposed rock, she drew attention to a large face chiseled into the rock. “It's
sa-ja-la
. Technically, it means subordinate lord.”

“How about not so technically?” said Charlene.

“Under lord.”

“As in lord of the underworld?” Finn said.

“More like four-star general instead of a five-star,” Willa said. “A title of importance but not the highest importance.”

“Is that a cave?” Maybeck said, referring to the huge black opening alongside the rock in question.

“An entrance to the temple,” Philby said. “Possibly, a burial crypt. These things had all sorts of secret rooms and tunnels, same as the Egyptian pyramids.”

“Square stone tunnel, I'll bet.” Finn was about to pull the folded e-mail with the scanned image of Jess's dream out of his pocket when he thought better of it. It would make too much noise.

“Lord of the underworld,” Charlene whispered eerily, stuck on Willa's definition.

“They picked this spot carefully,” Finn said. “There must have been other ruins and temples in places like Aruba and Costa Rica.”

“It's the table,” Maybeck explained. “My uncle Jim works in a processing plant—a slaughterhouse. They have tables like that, only theirs are metal. You see that line all around the edges?”

“The border,” Charlene said.

“It's not decoration. It's a drain system. See the hole to the right? You put a jar under there and collect the blood.”

“That's disgusting!” Charlene protested.

“No,” Maybeck said. “That's part of a sacrifice. Kill the animal, drink its blood.”

“Eew!” Charlene went shock-white. “Can we change the subject please?”

“The ancient civilizations didn't kill animals,” Willa said. “They killed—”

“People,” Philby said. “Human sacrifice.”

Finn spoke faintly. “We were right. ‘One of you will die.'” His eyes fell on the duffel bag at the Queen's feet. When they'd talked about it, it had felt more abstract. Dillard, posing as Finn, was in that bag. And he was going to die.

“Are you telling me Dillard's blood is going to be Chernabog's power drink?” Maybeck had a way with words. “For the record, I'm now disgusted as well.”

“What's with the sun?” Charlene said. “Why's it so dark all of a sudden?”

Finn had noticed the darkness during the brief storm, but Charlene was right: if anything it was actually darker now.

“Oh dear.” Philby said, checking his wristwatch. “It's the solar eclipse.”

The four others stared at him. He looked into each of their faces.

“What? You're going to tell me you didn't know about the solar eclipse? It's May twentieth.” He looked for some spark of recognition on their part. “A total eclipse. Extremely rare. Arizona to Panama is the best possible viewing. As in: a jungle in Mexico.” He studied his watch again. Fiddled with it.

“In eight minutes it's full. A total eclipse. We've got eight minutes to save Dillard.”

“T
HE GIRLS WILL CAUSE
a distraction. You two,” Finn said to Maybeck and Philby, “will grab the duffel. I'll try to get the journal, so this can't ever happen again.”

“What kind of distraction?” Willa asked.

“Don't take any stupid chances. Just make a bunch of noise and take off for the highway. We'll you meet you there.”

“Nothing stupid,” Philby repeated.

“Are you two on again?” Maybeck asked.

“Shut up!” Willa said. But she didn't deny it.

“Six minutes,” Philby announced.

“One thing to keep in mind,” Willa said, holding everyone together for a moment longer. “This thing is part Minotaur.” She meant Chernabog. “In Greek mythology, Theseus leads the Minotaur into a labyrinth. The Minotaur is trapped and can't find his way out.”

“Get to the point!” Maybeck said.

“I'm getting to the point,” Willa said, pulling a lock of hair behind her ear nervously. “The point is, historians
say it may not have been a labyrinth, but a palace or
temple
with a lot of rooms.” She was looking at the black hole alongside the symbol chiseled into the rock. “If that's an entrance…”

“The under lord,” Philby said.

“Keeper of the underworld,” Finn said, repeating what he'd said earlier. No one dismissed it this time.

“If we can lead him in there,” Willa said, “who knows? Maybe he never comes out.”

“And maybe we get eaten alive trying,” said Maybeck.

“Five minutes,” Philby said.

* * *

Finn missed Amanda. About to take the risk he was about to take, he felt a hole in his chest and once again regretted making her hate him, even for a moment. Those moments, he thought, had been wasted.

He'd circled around to the side of the cave entrance. In front of him: Tia Dalma, Maleficent, the Evil Queen.

Chernabog.

Finn felt woefully ill-prepared to battle such forces. He had gained new strength—unexplainable strength—and speed, but he had no real control over it. It was like stepping into a cockpit where you didn't know what the buttons were for. He was unpracticed, unpolished.

He wished for Amanda's ability to push. One shove from her, and the witches and fairies, maybe even Chernabog with his wet black nose and black, hideous eyes, would be thrown against the rocks. Dillard would be rescued. They could steal the van and be on their way, leaving the OTs behind.

But Amanda wasn't here.

But
he
was here: where he'd never wanted to be. In a Mexican jungle, the survival of his friend depending upon him.

Tia Dalma turned a page in the journal. She nodded and raised her right hand, then placed it across her chest.

Chernabog walked ploddingly toward her. The ground shook. Finn's animal instincts told him to run.

This thing was more than a monster. It was a creature; a bull/bat creature with huge eyes, a wet snout, and the pointed nose of a bat broken by sharp saw teeth. Granted, it behaved as if drugged; but if anything, that enhanced the threat.

Tia Dalma barely looked over at the beast. Finn couldn't see her face, but he could hear her mumbling.

The Evil Queen unzipped the duffel bag. In the gloomy darkness of the eclipse, Finn would have sworn it was his twin coming out of the bag.

Dillard's hands were bound behind his back. His eyes were crazed with fear.

Dillard had once begged Finn—
begged
him—to allow him to become a Kingdom Keeper. Finn had gently turned him down. Dillard was not cut out for it.

Apparently Dillard had convinced Wayne otherwise.

Finn briefly closed his eyes. He hated Wayne at that moment.

A few milliseconds passed—more like a blink. But in that fraction of time, Finn attempted to summon the speed and strength he'd demonstrated intermittently throughout the voyage.

Caw! Caw!

Diablo. Finn knew the bird's identity before he spotted the raven, because like Philby's pigeon cry, that particular birdsong had no place in a jungle. Perched near the Evil Queen, Diablo clung to a vine over the empty duffel bag.

Exactly where Maybeck and Philby were hiding.

Maleficent walked in that direction: toward the Evil Queen and Dillard.

Chernabog marched for the sacrificial table.

Finn couldn't breathe. The beast grew bigger with every step. The four crewmen backed up, sensing something awful.

Where were the girls and their distraction?

Willa was a genius. Rather than stand up and shout or do something overtly obvious, she and Charlene slipped in and out between the rocks on the far side of the courtyard. A girl's leg appeared and then disappeared.

Maleficent signaled the four crewmen, who dashed off in pursuit.

With any luck, Finn thought, the two girls were sprinting toward the road by now. For a moment it looked as if Maleficent would pursue them as well, but her nasty crow continued signaling—for all Finn knew the thing was talking to her. She moved toward Dillard, toward where Philby and Maybeck were hiding.

It had to be now.

Finn darted toward the stone table like he was
going for the prize in Capture the Flag. Tia Dalma, distracted by sight of the girls and by Maleficent's swift crossing to Diablo, never saw Finn coming. He careened into her, throwing her to the ground. He reached for the journal.

His legs were trembling. But it wasn't his legs; it was the ground, as Chernabog dragged himself toward the table. The beast was clearly at half speed; Finn didn't want to see him supercharged.

Up close he was a hideous combination of wild bull, rabid bat, and human giant. Drool leaked disgustingly from his partially-open mouth, which was lined with hundreds of triangular teeth. His coal-black eyes, so bloodshot as to look otherworldly, locked onto Finn. He grunted, his nostrils snorting fluid.

“Hey, buddy,” Finn said, backing up, the journal tucked under his arm.

Chernabog swiped out at Finn, his reach extraordinarily long, his black, bear claws coming incredibly close. Much closer than Finn thought possible.

A fireball ripped through the air by Finn's left ear, sounding like a jet engine at takeoff. The surprise of it pushed Chernabog back and off Finn.

Maleficent took a step toward Dillard. The Evil Queen stepped out of the jungle, dragging Maybeck with one hand and Philby with the other. The boys were conscious but dazed.

“Stop!” she called to Finn. “The book, young man. Put it back on the table, or your friends die.”

Tia Dalma clawed herself to her knees. Her eyes played across Finn like a meat inspector's. She was going to end him.

Willa and Charlene had broken from the plan, doubling back. Out of the corner of his eye, Finn saw them dip into the mouth of the cave entrance that bore the pictograph.

Cackling evilly, the Evil Queen pulled a vial
from her cloak and force-fed Maybeck and Philby
its contents. The boys slumped to the jungle floor.

Dead? Asleep?

“The book!” she cried out.

Both furious and terrified, Finn returned the journal to the stone table. But something in him snapped as it clunked to the stone. He raced toward his fallen friends. Maleficent badly misjudged his superhuman speed. Her first two fireballs missed.

Seeing more power in Finn's emotions than anything with which fire could contend, she wave a crooked finger at Dillard and drew the boy to her.

Finn was three steps from Maleficent when the two girls screamed.

A cloud of fruit bats flew from the mouth of the cave. They were the size of flying squirrels. They swirled around the courtyard like smoke escaping a chimney. A black fog, so thick that wings licked the faces of everyone gathered there, forcing them to recoil.

All but Chernabog, who spread his arms in welcome. The bats formed a funnel over his head and
spiraled up into the dark sky.

Chernabog roared so loudly Finn would have sworn the trees shook.
And this thing's at half speed?

Maleficent crossed her arms in front of her face to shield herself. Taking advantage of her distraction, Finn attacked Maleficent, grabbing her from behind and spinning her in the direction of Tia Dalma just as the witch doctor threw her arm forward, intending a curse for Finn.

Maleficent buckled over. Finn kicked her to the dirt and kneeled by Maybeck's side.

A fireball grew from Maleficent's palm. Finn abandoned Maybeck and struck the fairy's arm, sending the fireball in the direction of the Evil Queen, whose cape caught fire. The burning Evil Queen dove to the dirt and rolled.

Chernabog roared yet again.

The moon slipped fully in front of the sun, blotting out all light.

The fallen Maleficent, writhing from the pain inflicted by the curse, looked to the sky.

Tia Dalma had Dillard by the throat. She produced a large knife—bone or ivory—from her waistband and leveled its blade across Dillard's throat. She pulled on the blade, cutting Dillard's neck, spilling his blood.

“Stop!” Finn shouted. He couldn't bear it. Couldn't allow it. It was worse than anything he'd ever imagined.

To his surprise, the witch doctor paused.

“Me, for him,” Finn said. “You would much rather have me.”

“Blood is blood, lad,” Tia Dalma said in her lilting voice. She could have been talking about vegetables in the grocery store. “He,” she indicated Chernabog, “is not picky.”

Finn saw an exchange of some sort between the Evil Queen, who guarded Maybeck and Philby, and Tia Dalma. Tia Dalma's hand tightened on the knife handle. Chernabog bellowed and snorted, waiting by the stone table.

The bats descended in a swirling blanket, engulfing the beast. The vortex of flapping wings shifted across the terrace, throwing up a tornado of dust that consumed Finn, Tia Dalma, and Dillard.

Blinded, Finn shielded his eyes. He fought forward, swiping at the bats with his bare hands, knocking them aside.

They lifted.

Tia Dalma was hauling Dillard toward Chernabog and the stone table. “Coming, my lord.” She stretched out an arm to pull the open journal closer.

My lord
. The words registered with Finn.

Finn dove and rolled, leaping to his feet in time to catch Tia Dalma's back-stretched arm as she wrestled to lift Dillard onto the table.

An excited Chernabog snorted and stomped. The ground shook.

Finn yanked Tia Dalma's arm and knife back a few inches, away from Dillard's throat. The witch doctor released Dillard, leaving him laying half-on, half-off the sacrificial table. Finn redirected the knife, turning her wrist so the tip of the blade faced her, surprised by her formidable strength.

“You…should…have…taken…me,” he said. “I would have gone willingly.”

“For the King!” the witch doctor said, reversing the tip fully toward Finn.

Anger flashed through Finn, making him ten times as strong. He and Dillard had played at Knights of the Round Table using palm tree fronds as swords, battling for the virtue of princesses and the valor of the King. How
dare
she know that! How
dare
she quote that?

It gave him the final blast of strength, the pump of adrenaline he needed. He bent her wrist—snapped its bones—and plunged the knife into her chest.

Finn relished the shock in her eyes, the way he felt her resolve flag. There was something else in her eyes as he twisted the blade within her: betrayal? How could she possibly accuse him of such a thing?

The life went out of her eyes.

The bats swirled.

Dillard sagged on the end of the knife.

Dillard.

Not Tia Dalma.

Finn looked at the table. The witch doctor lay there, arms crossed over her chest, laughing coldly.

Dillard looked down at the knife, then into Finn's eyes.
Betrayal!
Finn should have known! He pulled out the knife. Dillard collapsed and fell, eyes open. Tears ran down his cheeks. If he was crying, he was alive!

“The bloodshed of friendship is so much thicker,” Tia Dalma said, off the table now and catching Dillard before he hit the ground. She lifted Dillard's hand, which hung limply in the air.

“Life is because of the gods; with their sacrifice they gave
us life…. They produce our sustenance…which nourishes
life.
”

Chernabog leaned forward.

“Nooooo!”

Finn punched Tia Dalma in the face with all his strength. Her head snapped back and she collapsed, unconscious. Before he could think, Finn pivoted and broke Chernabog's grip on Dillard, putting himself between the beast and his friend. He jumped straight up and landed, squatting on the stone table, facing Chernabog. He waved the knife.

The beast swung, but to Finn it registered as slow motion. Finn ducked the blow, but lost the knife. He rotated and kicked out, connecting with the beast's chest. It was like kicking a wall.

Chernabog dropped his fist like a hammer. Finn lurched aside. The eight-inch-thick stone table cracked with the blow.