Northwood Page 9

  This was the tree, all right.

  But the attic balloon was gone.

  Looking now, she could see where the balloon had landed, trapped in a fork of heavy branches.

  The balloon must have worked itself free in the breeze and floated away.

  All her plans went floating away into the sky with it — her brilliant idea, her chance to save the people of Storm and lead them back to civilization.

  She noticed something else: a small scrap of fabric caught on a jagged branch. She tried to grab it, but it was just out of reach. She stretched up onto tippy-toes, and her fingers closed over it just as her foot slipped.

  She scrambled around wildly for balance, trying to clutch onto something, anything, but all she caught was thin air. Stifling a sharp cry that tried to force its way from her throat, she slid back down the bulbous trunk of the tree and landed with a thump on the ground. The lantern landed next to her with a thud and went out.

  Then the snoring stopped.

  19

  THE WELL

  IT WAS PITCH black.

  “We need to get out of here,” Evan whispered.

  “Hang on a minute,” Avery said.

  “Why?” Evan’s voice was a tight croak.

  “Because we don’t know where it is,” Avery hissed. “We could end up running right toward it. Just listen for a second.”

  They all listened.

  The lion was very close . . . so close they could hear it breathing, even now that it was awake.

  They could hear the lion’s footsteps padding on the leaves underfoot and then there was a low growl from its throat.

  “It sounds like it’s right beside us,” Cecilia said, trying not to panic.

  “It is,” Avery said.

  There were some clicking sounds and the lantern burst back into life in Avery’s hands.

  Rocky was staring straight at the trees on the other side of the path.

  “It’s there,” he woofed.

  Avery had also figured it out.

  “It’s on another path on the other side of those trees,” she said.

  “Can it get here from there?” Cecilia asked.

  “I don’t know,” Avery said. “This maze is really tricky. I don’t know how to get to that path.”

  “Let’s hope the lion doesn’t know how to get to this path,” Evan said.

  “The lions know the forest really well,” Avery said.

  Cecilia said, “Let’s get moving. Try to beat the lion back to the castle.”

  Rocky led the way. Avery was right behind him with the lamp and Evan and Cecilia were on her heels. Evan was just a black silhouette in front of Cecilia’s face.

  It was hard being last, Cecilia found. The light was up in front and she couldn’t see the path at her feet, so she stumbled a lot.

  Then the light changed, and Evan’s black silhouette suddenly shimmered into solid form in front of her. She could see the ground too. She realized they were out from under the tree canopy and back in the clearing under the starlight.

  Just in time, too, she thought, because the lion is sounding closer by the second.

  Avery ran over to the door and put her shoulder to it.

  “Give me a hand,” she called out. “It’s stuck.”

  Evan and Cecilia threw themselves at the door as well, but all of their efforts made no impression at all.

  “It’s not stuck,” Evan said. “It’s locked!”

  They looked at each other in horror.

  “We’ll just have to shout and wake someone up so they can let us in,” Avery said.

  “If you start shouting, that lion is going to hear, and it will know exactly where we are,” Evan said, and Cecilia thought he was probably right.

  “What’s your suggestion, dweeb?” Avery whispered angrily. “It’s a castle. It’s designed to keep people out. How are we going to get back inside unless someone unlocks the door and lets us in?”

  “I don’t know,” Evan said just as angrily. “I was just pointing out that if you start shouting, we’re going to get torn to shreds by a black lion before anyone will have time to come down and let us in.”

  “Then you go in front,” Avery said. “And while it’s busy eating you, we can escape.”

  “No, you go in front,” Evan said. “There’s more of you to eat.”

  “Oh, both of you shut up,” Cecilia said. “And listen to me. I have an idea.”

  “What is it?” Evan asked, looking up at the cliff face hopefully, in case someone should be looking down and see them.

  “I was thinking about the story of King Danyon and Baron Mendoza,” Cecilia whispered.

  “Now is not the time for that,” Avery said. “We’re about to get eaten by a lion!”

  “Now is exactly the time,” Cecilia said. “Listen to me.”

  “What about it?” Avery asked.

  “How did King Danyon manage to sneak out, in front of all those soldiers, and set fire to the catapults?” Cecilia asked.

  “I’ve wondered about that too,” Evan said.

  “There must be a tunnel,” Cecilia said.

  “A tunnel?” Avery said, frowning. “Where would it come out?”

  “In the well!” Evan said, reading Cecilia’s mind once again.

  Rocky woofed two sharp warning barks.

  “The lion is coming,” he was saying.

  Cecilia heard it too, a faint rustling of leaves on the path through the forest.

  “Hurry!” she yelled.

  They sprinted to the old decrepit well and peered down. There was just enough starlight to see that the walls of the well were not smooth, but a jumble of different sizes and shapes of rocks.

  “What if you’re wrong?” Evan asked.

  “We’ll just hide in the well until the lion goes away,” Cecilia said. “Who’s going first?”

  “I am,” Avery said, pushing past her.

  Avery clambered through a gap where part of the wall had collapsed and put one foot down inside, feeling for something to stand on.

  “It’s all pretty old and slippery,” she said.

  “Move around the well,” Cecilia suggested. “Maybe there’s some kind of foothold.”

  Avery worked her right foot around the edge of the well, then shouted desperately, “Nothing!”

  “Quick, the rope,” Cecilia said.

  Avery handed her the rope and she wound one end a couple of times around one of the pillars next to the well. She tied it off in a reef knot, then added a couple more reefs for safety.

  Thank you, Jana! Cecilia thought.

  They were always tying pieces of string to hold balloons, and Jana had taught her to tie lots of different knots.

  Avery grabbed the rope and tugged it a couple of times to test the knot. She put her feet on the edge of the well and slowly lowered herself down, holding the rope and “walking” down the wall.

  “There’s a ledge down here,” her voice swished up from the depths.

  “You go,” Cecilia urged Evan. He needed no further encouragement. He swung his leg over the well at the same place Avery had, and copied her actions, climbing swiftly down inside the well.

  “There’s a tunnel! There’s a tunnel!” Avery’s excited whisper echoed around and around the old well.

  Thinking quickly, Cecilia pulled up the rope and tied the lantern onto the end, lowering it back down to Avery. The rope was wet, no doubt from landing in the water far below.

  “How about that lion?” she asked Rocky.

  “It’s coming fast,” Rocky said.

  Cecilia had worn her jacket, thinking that it would be cold in the forest at night (which it was). She stripped it off and tied it around Rocky’s stomach like a sling.

  Then she untied the rope and looped it around the pi
llar before tying it to the jacket. Rocky jumped up onto the wall of the well.

  “Grab the rope,” she called down the well. “You can lower Rocky down.”

  “Okay.”

  The rope tightened around the pillar.

  “Okay, ease it out, gently, gently,” Cecilia called down, cradling Rocky against her chest and helping him over the edge of the well.

  The rope chafed and slipped around the pillar as the makeshift cradle took the strain. Rocky slipped away out of sight.

  “Okay, got him,” Avery’s voice said.

  There was a roar from behind her and Cecilia spun around to see the dark shape of the lion, just visible in the starlight, bounding into the clearing.

  “Don’t untie Rocky,” she yelled. “Hang onto the rope on his side.”

  Without waiting for them to answer, she leaped over the side of the well and grabbed at the rope.

  The lion was already on her, lashing out for her with teeth that glowed like daggers in the blackness of its mouth.

  The teeth closed on thin air, and Cecilia was falling, desperately grabbing at the rope, trying to stop (or at least slow) her fall.

  Her hands got a grip on the rope. Cecilia slipped down a little farther, and then somehow managed to stop her slide.

  She swung wildly around the well and crashed into the rocky face with her knee and then her elbow.

  Above her she could hear the beast breathing. She saw its paw, gleaming with razor-sharp claws, reaching down into the well and feeling for her.

  “Leave me alone!” she shouted up at the animal.

  It growled and grunted something, but in the darkness she had no idea what it was saying.

  She slid carefully down the rest of the way until her feet touched a rocky ledge. It was slippery and narrow, with barely enough room for the four of them.

  Avery and Evan were standing there, hanging grimly onto the rope, with Rocky still tied to the bottom of it in her now filthy jacket.

  In the wall of the well there was a patch of black nothingness that had to be the entrance to the tunnel.

  “That was rambunctious!” Evan said, clearly quite exhilarated now that the immediate danger had passed.

  “You always use words even when you don’t know what they mean,” Avery said, untying Rocky.

  “No, I use words even when you don’t know what they mean,” Evan said.

  Avery was pulling the rope from around the pillar above them as the lion prowled and growled around the well mouth. She coiled it up and slipped it back over her shoulder before picking up the lantern.

  Cecilia said, “This explains how King Danyon defeated Baron Mendoza. He must have snuck through this tunnel, then climbed out behind the soldiers, set the big catapults on fire, then escaped back down the well.”

  “The soldiers wouldn’t have expected anyone to sneak up behind them,” Evan said, jumping up and down with excitement.

  Then he realized he was making too much noise and stopped.

  “But where would the tunnel start from? Inside the castle?” Avery asked. “I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never seen a tunnel.”

  “There must be a secret entrance,” Cecilia said.

  “Let’s see where this goes,” Avery said.

  20

  THE QUARTERS

  THE CEILING OF the tunnel was rock — low and dangerous, especially to delicate things like heads. The floor was uneven with sudden, unexpected ridges and bumps to make you stumble.

  And when you straightened up again, the ceiling was waiting for you with another rocky lump aimed right at your skull.

  “Ouch!” Evan shouted for the third time.

  “Be quiet,” Avery hissed.

  “Nobody can hear us down here,” Evan said.

  “Just be quiet anyway, you never know,” Avery said.

  “You’re such a blabbermouth,” Evan said.

  “Be quiet!”

  Cecilia didn’t say a word. She was too busy just trying to stay upright and unscarred. Her elbow was raw and red from where she had crashed into the wall of the well and her knee ached.

  The tunnel smelled musty and dank, like old, swampy mud, or the classroom at school after soccer practice on a wet day. She walked along in a crouch so she wouldn’t bump her head, and imagined that King Danyon must have crawled along here on his hands and knees.

  Cecilia had only glimpses of light to help her see. The walls were dark and mysterious in the heart of the tunnel, and she imagined there were faces embedded in the rock. Fingers of rock on the floor reached up to grip her ankles. Crawling insects and wet slimy things oozed out of the walls with pincers and sharp teeth. She tried not to think about these things because they were scaring her, but her mind wouldn’t listen.

  This tunnel was old. Very old. The castle and the tunnel had already been here, long deserted, when King Danyon had found it. So the people who built it, digging the tunnel out of solid bedrock, had lived many hundreds, maybe even thousands, of years before Danyon. Who knew what dark magic they practiced or what ancient secrets were buried here?

  Rocky padded along quietly behind her, his four feet making easy work of the uneven floor. His presence made Cecilia a little happier because she knew he would defend her if any ancient spirits came seeping out of the walls.

  “What did you see in the tree?” Evan asked. “You were reaching up for something when you fell.”

  Cecilia reached into the pocket of her jacket and brought out a scrap of material. After she fell from the tree, she had tucked it into her pocket. “This,” she said.

  Avery, who was leading with the lantern, stopped and turned back for a moment, and they studied the scrap in the weak light.

  “It’s blue,” Evan said.

  “It’s hard to tell in this light,” Cecilia said.

  “It’s definitely blue,” Avery said. “It’s from one of the uniforms of the royal guards. How could that have gotten in the tree?”

  “They must have gone to look for the balloon after all,” Avery said. “Even though the King said not to.”

  Cecilia had something altogether more sinister rolling around in her mind, but was hesitant to say it.

  Rocky looked at her and growled. Cecilia nodded. It was hard to believe, but it had to be true.

  “I don’t think the balloon floated away on its own,” she said, in quiet words that seemed to disappear the moment they were uttered. “I think one of the guards did it.”

  “That’s nuts,” Avery said.

  “Why?” Evan asked.

  “I don’t know,” Cecilia admitted. “Why would one of the guards not want us to be rescued?”

  “The guards just do what the King tells them to do,” Avery scoffed.

  “Then why would the King not want us to be rescued?” Cecilia asked.

  “I don’t know,” Evan said. Avery shook her head.

  “Maybe he likes being a king,” Rocky woofed, but Cecilia didn’t translate that for the twins.

  The tunnel began to slope upward, and every now and then they came to a set of stairs, usually at a right angle to the tunnel. The passage would head off in another direction, then come to more stairs, zigging and zagging its way under the mountain.

  They were climbing rapidly now, rising up inside the cliff face. One more flight of stairs and they came to a dead end.

  A small wooden door faced them, hardly bigger than a trapdoor in the wall.

  Avery wiped her hand across the frame of the door and dislodged a pile of thick gray dust. “Nobody has been here in a very long time,” she said.

  “So King Harry doesn’t know about this tunnel,” Evan said.

  “Seems that way,” Cecilia agreed.

  “Everybody be really quiet — especially you, Evan,” Avery said. “We don’t know where this is going to open
into. It could be anywhere.”

  ***

  It wasn’t anywhere. It was somewhere. Somewhere very special. It was a dining room — a grand dining room with a long table stretching down the center of it.

  The table was covered with dust and cobwebs, and clearly hadn’t been used for years. All along it, there were chairs . . . although only the wooden frames remained, the fabric coverings having rotted away long ago.

  Paintings and canvases that had somehow survived the centuries hung in gold and silver frames on the walls. And the pictures, although slightly faded and covered in dust, were still clear. They were portraits of kings and queens, of princes and princesses.

  “We’re in the royal quarters,” Avery whispered, mesmerized.

  She pushed the trapdoor closed behind them and gasped.

  They all turned to look.

  Here inside the dining room, the entrance to the tunnel was concealed by another painting, one of two that held the place at the head of the table. One of a man, one of a woman. There was no doubt in anybody’s mind. This had to be King Danyon and Queen Natassia.

  The age, the dust, and the lantern light did them no justice at all, but even so, they took Cecilia’s breath away. King Danyon was a handsome man, with a short goatee beard. His hair was long and braided and he wore a crown that Cecilia recognized. She had seen King Harry wearing it just a day before.

  Queen Natassia was quite simply beautiful. She wore a crown that matched the King’s, although hers held red gems, while King Danyon’s sparkled with jewels of blue and green.

  “Holy macaroni,” Evan said. “It’s them!”

  “And if that’s the King and Queen,” Cecilia said, her gaze drifting around the wall to the first portrait on the long side wall. “Then that must be Princess Annachanel.”

  The Princess looked like her mother. Younger, of course, but she had the same high cheekbones and delicate chin.