The Unwilling Adventurer (The Unwilling #1) (17 page)

Ned and the boy stood before her in her room; Fred flinched from her anger, and he glared at Ned. "That's your reason? So I can avoid admiring fans?" Fred asked him.

Ned shrugged. "It sounded perfect in my head."

"That's an echo chamber of lies," Pat bit back.

"Then you refuse to allow this boy to come with us?" Ned asked her.

Pat threw up her arms. "Am I surrounded by fools? What good would it do to take him with us? Does he want an early death?"

Ned raised an eyebrow. "As you yourself pointed out, he would be a better guardian than myself. Are you willing to risk your life because you care so much about this boy to let him stand in harm's way?"

Pat blushed and stuttered. "That's not how it is! He's just too young and too inexperienced! His luck will run out and he'll get himself killed and-" The girl shook her head and paced in front of the men. She massaged her forehead with one hand. "Maybe I should just find myself a brand new guardian. Percy-"

"Percy?" Fred snorted.

Pat shot him a glare of death. Fred slammed his mouth shut, but he was irked at her insult toward him. "Yes, Percy Clavier. He's very good with a sword and takes a lady seriously."

"If he took you seriously then he doesn't know what a lady is..." Fred mumbled.

"What was that, boy?" Pat yelled at Fred.

The term boy was the last straw. Fred pulled out the broken stick, marched up to her and shoved it into her shocked face. "This stick's saved you more than that boyfriend of yours, so if you're stupid enough to trust his sword over my staff you deserve that lout."

Pat stared at him with her mouth open and her eyes wide. Fred breathed heavily into her face until she wrinkled her nose and shoved him away. "Your breath reeks," she commented. Fred opened his mouth to object, but she put her fingers gently on his lips. His eyes crossed down at her hand, and back up to her face. She smiled at him. "But you're right. What I said to you was ungrateful, and to you, too, Ned," she called to the old man behind Fred.

Ned shook his head. "Nothing that wasn't true, at least on my account."

"Well, I still apologize for saying such things, especially after how you've both saved me from all those dangers."

Fred's eyes lit up. "So does that mean I can go with you two?"

Pat crossed her arms over her chest and glanced between them. A sly smile slipped onto her lips, and she leaned forward. "Fine, you can go, but on one condition." She nodded down at the stick. "Make that thing come out, right here and right now."

Fred paled, and glanced between her stern face and the stick. "I-I don't really think it works that way," he objected. The boy frowned and looked over to Ned. "Does it come out like that?"

Ned smiled. "Cedric would use it for his walking stick."

"Great..." Fred mumbled; that meant the stick could change forms for even mild tasks. He sighed, stepped back and held the stick out in front of him. "Um, alright, stick-staff thing, I command you to come out!" The staff retained its broken form; Fred felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. Ned and Pat watched him, one carefully and the other impatiently.

"Come on, we don't have all day," Pat insisted.

"Wait a minute, I'm still trying!" Fred shot back. He looked to Ned. "Any idea how to do this?"

The old man raised his eyebrows. "Do you think I would have carried it for so long as a stick if I could have used it as another staff?"

"Maybe?" Fred weakly replied.

Ned rolled his eyes and plopped himself down on the bed. "Perhaps if you cleared your mind and focused only on the stick then something will happen."

Pat snorted. "He should have the first step taken care of."

Fred shot her an ugly look and trained his eyes on the pieces of stick in his hands. He closed his eyes and imagined the stick shining and stretching into a staff. The wood felt warm in his hands; he concentrated harder. His brow furrowed and his arms shook. Something pushed him from behind.

Fred yelped and his eyes shot open. He hugged the stick to himself just as it transformed into the staff. The tall stick pushed into his jaw and whipped his head back. He clutched at his injured mouth and stumbled back. A pair of soft arms caught him. His head whipped around and he found himself looking into Pat's amused face.

Ned chuckled from the bed. "Well, he certainly has a grasp on the situation when the need calls for it."

"You mean when he's scared it works," Pat countered.

"We shall have to hope he never obtains courage," the old man snarkily replied.

Fred glared at him, and turned to Pat; his expression drooped. "So does this mean I can't go?"

"Well, you did bring out the staff right here and now," she reminded him.

The boy frowned. "Yeah, but not without your help."

Pat shrugged. "A deal is a deal. You can come with us or stay behind with your adoring fans, but you need to hurry. We're already a few days late reaching Galaron."

Ned came up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. "We both thank you for this honor to protect you."

The girl snorted. "Well, if we take him with us he can't disappoint his adoring fans," she pointed out.

Fred frowned. "How would I disappoint them?"

A wicked, teasing smile graced her face. "Just by being you."

CHAPTER 17

The three companions packed their few belongings, including a healthy bag of food from the kitchen, and went in search of Tramadore. They found him at the front entrance with a contingency of his guards. The doors were not yet barred shut, but a heavy block of wood stood by in case of emergency. He spotted the three and smiled at them, particularly Fred. "It seems you have many adoring fans," he teased the boy.

"Not from choice," Fred muttered.

Ned stepped forward. "I'm afraid the young Chosen One of the Chair wishes to make a hasty retreat from those same fans."

Tramadore raised an eyebrow, and his guards were equally surprised. He waved at the knights. "Pay heed that they don't get through unless expected." The lord turned to his guests. "Please follow me into my study." They obeyed his command, and he had hardly closed the door behind them when he swung around to face them. "What are you up to now, Edwin?"

"Ned, old friend," Ned countered.

Tramadore shook his head. "Not when I see that look in your eyes. That's the same wily expression that's gotten us into trouble many times before."

"In this case I hope to get us out of trouble. We need to leave the city as soon as possible, and with as few problems as possible," Ned explained to him.

"You planned to go through the tunnel?" Tramadore asked them.

"If you will allow it," Ned replied.

Lord Tramadore smirked. "I wonder that you ask my permission. Your staff would get you through the darkness well enough."

"But not without the key to the outside entrance," Ned pointed out. "No magic nor locksmith has ever broken it."

"You have me there," the lord answered. He reached into his vest and pulled out his gold watch. Rather than opening the container as he'd done before, Tramadore unfastened the silver chain and handed it to Ned. "I expect that back next time you come through, and don't forget to lock the door behind you."

"Yes, old mother," Ned teased as he safely tucked the watch chain into his cloak.

Tramadore gestured to Fred. "Before you go there is a matter of this young boy. What excuse should I give for our young prodigy's disappearance?"

Ned pulled at his beard and squinted at the boy. "Well, perhaps you can say he's shy and will perform his workings out of the public eye."

"That's a bad lie, even for you," Tramadore countered.

"And what would you propose we say, hmm?" Ned wondered.

Tramadore shrugged. "That he is out changing the world."

Ned wrinkled his nose. "That sounds suspiciously like the truth."

"Yes, I'm afraid that telling the truth is my one failing, and one you rarely have to worry about," Tramadore quipped.

"Are you two quite done?" Pat interrupted them. She stood impatiently by the door with her arms crossed and her foot tapping the floor.

Ned coughed. "Yes, well, we'll leave it at that then." He shook hands with his old friend, who grinned.

"Be careful, and don't stay away so long. It was fun having you as my guests, even with all the trouble you caused," Tramadore replied. Ned returned the grin, nodded and dragged Fred with Pat in the lead out of the study. Tramadore watched them go and his lips pursed together. "May the gods keep you safe, old friends," he whispered.

Ned took the lead and guided them into the dining hall and up to the pedestal. He stepped up and tapped the bottom of his staff against the low platform. Fred's eyes widened when the pedestal swung aside to reveal a secret staircase. Pat climbed into the hole, but Fred hesitated; it was very dark down there. "Less ogling, my boy, and more moving," Ned scolded as he pushed the boy in ahead of him.

Following Ned's entrance the pedestal swung back into place and they were swallowed in darkness. Ned tapped his staff against the ground and the top lit up as a clear, consistent blue color. The staircase was wide enough to fit all three of them abreast, so the youngsters followed Ned down on either side of him. Fred clutched his stick and Pat had her hand on the hilt of her sword. The staircase went down for an eternity plus one, but after several long minutes Fred was relieved to feel solid, un-stepped earth beneath his feet.

Before them was a long, winding tunnel that disappeared behind countless corners. The darkness pressed in on them, and Fred stepped closer to Ned. They moved forward, and the only noise was the soft dripping of water from the tips of stalactites and their feet along the hard earth.

Fred couldn't take the silence. "Why is there a locked door at the end but not at the beginning?" he asked his companions.

"A good question, my boy, and one easily answered by the word 'distance,'" Ned replied.

Fred blinked. "Distance?"

Ned nodded. "Exactly. An escaping army or citizenry could go the whole way through and unlock the back door. They would then lock the door behind them and force any pursuing army to retreat back the way they came, giving time for the city to regroup and trap their opponents in the tunnel." He held up his staff and showed the thick walls; there were cracks in them. "And in case the enemy army was too powerful to defeat by conventional means the walls could be filled with gunpowder and exploded."

"And the cave would collapse and kill them all," Pat finished.

Fred shuddered. He thought of better things, like the end of the tunnel. "And how is a chain going to help us get through a door?" he wondered.

"Magic, my dear Fred. It has infinite uses, and one thing it's very good at is locking and unlocking things," Ned explained to him.

They pressed on until the tunnel traveled down into a large cavern. At the bottom of the cavern was a bowl impression twelve feet deep and with steep, smooth sides. The companions walked around the hole until Ned paused; his staff's light had flickered. He frowned and moved his staff over the area; the light caught a long shadow in the bowl. It was a smooth wooden post buried in the ground and eight feet tall. "I have no memory of that post," he murmured.

"Is that a bad thing?" Fred asked him.

Ned shook his head. "I'm not-" His staff suddenly flew out of his hands and collided with the wooden post. It stuck against the side a few feet above the ground; fortunately, the light still glowed over them.

Pat pulled out her sword and looked around; there was no sign of anyone else. "What in the world just happened?"

Ned, too, glanced around the area. "It would seem someone knew we would come this way."

"But how would someone know we would go this way?" she asked the others.

"This is the only secret passage through the city," Ned explained to her. "If someone wanted to make a quick escape to reach a certain point in time for a certain day then this would be the best route."

"So what do we do now?" Fred wondered.

Ned straightened and stepped up to the edge of the bowl. "Now I go get my staff." Before either of them could stop him, Ned jumped off the edge and slid down the steep wall. He landed safely at the bottom, skipped a few steps and plopped himself at the base of the pole. "See? Nothing to it."

"That's a fine idea, Ned, but how will you get out?" Pat called down to him.

"That's very simple. You two will pull me up," he yelled back.

She nodded at his staff. "And how are you going to reach your staff?"

Ned frowned, and looked above his head; the staff sat two feet over where he stood. He turned back to them and sheepishly grinned. "Could either of you lend a strong back to this weak old man?"

Pat hunkered down and looked over the wall. "There's no way you're getting me down there."

Fred straightened and glanced around. "You guys hear something?"