Chapter 9

Winnie’s guards marched her to a high-ceilinged, windowless room. She scanned the area for paintings or tapestries, anything that might hide a secret passage to escape. Each of the four cream-colored walls appeared bare. She turned her attention to the furniture. Maybe if she hid well enough, her captors might think she escaped.

A long, narrow table and half a dozen chairs were the only objects in the room. Five plush chairs stood pressed against the far side of the table. A sixth, made of hardwood, stood alone in the middle of the room, facing the comfy ones. It had a tall, straight back. Attached to the rigid arms and legs were pairs of leather straps.

The guards shoved her into the hard seat. Her heart didn’t start pounding until two guards gripped her wrists and used the leather straps to tie them to the chair arms. Two other guards tied her ankles to the chair legs.

She tugged at the sturdy straps. “You don’t need to do this. I’m on your side.”

Wasn’t this supposed to be a civilized interrogation? How else could she explain she had come to save them? The guards said nothing.

“You’re making a mistake.”

The lights winked off. The guards’ feet clacked on the floor as they marched out. The door banged shut behind them.

Winnie sat rigidly in the deep darkness. Her pulse boomed in her temples. Was there enough air in here? Before her suffocation fears got out of hand, cool air blew down from an invisible vent. She breathed it in, trying to relax.

A creaky-hinge noise sounded from the blank wall in front of her. Her mouth went dry. She didn’t care anymore that a secret passage existed. Who just came in?

Soft footsteps shuffled inside. Through the blood pounding in her ears, she heard the shushing sound of chairs being pulled back. Someone coughed.

Winnie trembled in the dark. A blinding light splashed over her face. She clenched her eyes shut and held her breath.

“The medallion did not explode,” an indignant voice spoke from behind the spotlight. It might have belonged to the queen’s advisor, Zyke. “What is the purpose of the medallion?” His grumpy voice sounded more curious than threatening.

The muscles in her shoulders loosened a little. She squinted in the direction of Zyke’s voice. “They’re called binoculars. They magnify things when you put the small ends up to your eyes.”

“Pah!” A hard object, presumably the binoculars, banged on the table. “Nothing but rubbish.”

“It was designed for people with eyes closer together,” she explained.

“An utter waste. How did you expect to assassinate the queen with it?”

“I didn’t come to assassinate anybody. I’m here to help.”

“By being a heretic?” said a different, more gravelly-sounding voice.

“By being a warrior,” she said with more conviction than she felt.

Running away, or even wanting to, was not an option. This was her chance to be an actual warrior. Mikey/Takka had been right about the time tear and Frama-12 being a real place. Winnie had even recognized the throne room from her dreams. That meant her spider nightmare might also come true.

“I came here on Takka’s behalf to help save your people from the lurkin.”

“Takka sent us a wizard.”

She shook her head violently. “He only sent me. That wizard has to be a fake. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“I happen to be a close acquaintance of our Master Wizard,” said Zyke, “and I can assure you, the wizard presents himself as a much more believable champion than you do.”

“What do you make of the symbols on its frock?” asked a third, baritone voice.

“It probably says something blasphemous,” spoke the gravelly voice.

“Answer, spy,” Zyke said. “Translate the symbols.”

The blue lettering on her dirty white T-shirt glowed harshly in the light. “It says, ‘Valaro X2.’ ”

“I expect Valaro X2 is the code name for vogan,” said Baritone.

Winnie scowled into the brightness. “It’s the name of a car model.”

“Mm hm,” said Zyke. “And I suppose car would be the code name for—”

“It’s not a code. My dad co-owns a car dealership with my uncle. Can we stop wasting time and get to the point?”

“It sounds angry,” said Gravelly Voice.

“How do you expect me to feel? If we don’t do something about the lurkin, they’ll trample all over you!”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Councilman Zyke. “If an invasion is imminent, how shall they proceed?”

“Just like your oracle says, when the sea is smooth.”

“You’re not telling us anything we don’t already know.”

“Your sea is solid. The lurk in can march straight across it to your beach.”

“I say!” said Baritone. “I believe she’s right.”

“I am. I tested it. Now do you see why we have to get your army ready for the invasion?”

“We most certainly do,” Zyke said. “Fellow councilmen, observe our enemy, the lurkin.”

One of the voices called for the guards. “Take this spy immediately to the dungeon.”

“What? No!”

Half a dozen armored mel-yew clacked into the room. One guard untied Winnie. Two others clasped her arms in their metal gauntlets. Four more surrounded her.

“I’m not a lurk in spy.” She squirmed in their surprisingly strong grip. “I’m human. You need the crafty stuff in my head to defeat the lurkin. Takka said so.”

“Enough!” Zyke’s voice boomed. “If what you say is true, you will be freed. First, we must consult the oracle. Guards, escort the spy to the dungeon.”

“I’m supposed to be your champion.”

The mel-yew guards tugged her from the room. The afterimage from the bright light clouded her vision. She blindly stumbled along a corridor that sloped downward.

The stone floor changed to dirt. The sharp clank of metal boots turned to a muted thud. The air grew colder. It also smelled damp and musty. Before her eyes could adjust to the dim glow from hanging lanterns on the walls, they grew farther and farther apart with each turn.

At her prison cell an unexpected shove against the small of her back sent her sprawling onto a hard dirt floor. The harsh sound of metal banging behind her couldn’t be good. She heard the decisive click of a key pushing a bolt into place. She scrambled to her feet and groped until she found the locked door. She clutched two cold bars and poked her head through the space between them.

“Hey!”

All she heard were fading footsteps, stomping away.

“How long do I have to stay down here?”

Chilly silence.

She pressed her forehead against one of the bars. This couldn’t be happening. People didn’t get thrown into dungeons anymore. She rattled the door, hoping to shake it open. The movement caused her snack bag to bump against her upper thigh. At least the guards hadn’t confiscated her food. She sighed and opened the bag. The homey taste of leftover chicken sent a twinge of longing through her. It also reminded her that Mikey had been right. Her food had lasted until she reached the castle. He’d just never said she’d eat it in a cell.

She paced while she ate. What time was it back home? Did anyone miss her yet? Did anyone even know she was missing?

Little skittering-feet noises scraped across the far corner of her cell. A rat? She hurled her chicken bone toward the noise, and it stopped. She poked her head through the bars again. From a distance feet trampled toward her. She stretched her neck for a better view. A soft glow shone from around the corner. It brightened as it came near. Voices broke through the silence.

“Ahh—” Tramp, tramp. “—tee-ooh.” Tramp, tramp, tramp.

Brothers Ky. Winnie let out a groan.

She tucked her head back inside. Maybe if they didn’t see her, they’d forget they wanted to torture her. She backed away and bumped into a solid, musty-smelling bundle. Invisible arms clasped around her waist from behind.

Winnie yelped and broke free. She rushed to the door. “Over here! Brothers Ky!” Miniature monks, even with rocks, had to be safer than whatever had grabbed her.

“Ahh—” Tramp, tramp. “—tee-ooh.” Tramp, tramp, tramp.

“Here!”

Several monks scuttled toward her cell. Two held up lanterns.

“Why, it’s the heretic,” one brother said in a cheerful voice. “Hello and greetings.”

“Do you have a key? I need to get out of here.”

“A key? Sorry, no.”

The rest of the parade broke rank and formed around her cell door.

“Here is the heretic, brothers.” The leader sounded like a tour guide.

“Please help me. There’s some strange animal in here.”

“I shouldn’t think so,” the leader said with a chuckle in his voice. “Nothing lives down here for very long.”

“No, I mean it. Something back there grabbed me.” She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder at the shadowy back corner.

The monks waved their lanterns at her cell door. Bands of yellow light washed over an empty, wooden bench attached to the back wall. The chicken bone she’d thrown lay on the floor beneath it.

“You appear to be the only strange animal inside. Perhaps you’ve had a bit too much vill wine. I hear it makes those of weak character hallucinate.”

“I didn’t have any wine. And I’m not weak. I’m telling you—”

“Good day, heretic,” said the leader. “We shall meet again at the stoning.”

The group stepped into formation. “Ahh—” Tramp, tramp. “—tee-ooh.” Tramp, tramp, tramp.

As the light disappeared around another corner, the voices faded. Something rustled from behind her again. She swung around, pressing her back against the door.

“Who’s there? I have a knife.” She hoped she sounded fierce. Her only “weapon” was a plastic bag attached to her belt loop.

A candle materialized in a knobby hand. A hunched creature dressed in rags and a foot taller than Winnie shuffled forward. Bulging red-purple eyes glowed from a toady face.

“You’re a vogan.”

“Voga,” it corrected. “Vogan is plural. I am Maggenta, Sister of Twilight. I am the one they call the oracle.”

Winnie’s insides pulsed with hope. “You’re the one who sends messages to Mikey, I mean Takka. Right? So you know about me?”

The oracle bowed her toad head. “I know very well.”

“Finally. You can get me out of this mess.”

Maggenta rubbed her warty chin and glanced away.

“Can’t you?”

“You’ve broken quite a few of our laws. Why did you drink the sacred water?” she said in a stern voice. “You were so warned by Takka.”

“He didn’t say I couldn’t drink anything if I got thirsty.”

“It was foolish of you to quench your thirst with palm watching. They are very loyal to their queen.”

“Their queen is crazier than they are.”

“Enough,” the oracle said. “While you are here, you must abide by the rules of the realm. If you had shown the proper respect to Queen Bogen the way your wizard has, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you guys there is no wizard.”

“I’ve recently spoken with Takka. He claims a wizard from your world entered through the same time tear that brought you to us.”

“My world doesn’t have wizards.”

“Takka asserts otherwise. He also informs me you need this.” The oracle held out a bony arm. One of Winnie’s canteens dangled from her wrist. “I couldn’t wrestle the other from the queen. She’s taken quite a fancy to your spring water.”

“Thanks.” Winnie uncapped it and took a long drink.

“Takka was disappointed that you’d been taken prisoner. However, he accepts full responsibility. He should have prepared you better. That helps us little now.”

She lowered the canteen, shoulders sagging. “Don’t tell me I’m stuck in here forever!”

“We requested a leader, not a prisoner. I’ll see to your release.”

“Finally. Thank you.” She stepped up to the door, eager for the oracle to unlock it with a magical wave. An ear-popping force of wind hit her from behind instead. She spun around. All she faced was darkness.

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to let me out?”

“Your release is forthcoming,” said a disembodied voice. “Use this brief time to contemplate on how to show respect for customs and laws of the land.”

Winnie’s back stiffened. “I respect customs, but come on. I can’t drink water?”

“There is sufficient fluid in our food and prepared beverages. The water here is not safe for your consumption. This is no longer about water. I worry your stubbornness could lead to your downfall.”

Winnie snorted. “I’m not stubborn. I’m just honest. That’s what warriors are.”

“You are a warrior with a queen now. That means you must take direction.”

“If I promise to obey her, will you let me out now?”

“Patience,” said the voice.

She sighed. “Wait. You said you spoke to Takka. Could I talk to him?”

After a long silence, the voice said, “To do so, you must first take a seat.”

She frowned. “I’m a warrior. I can talk standing up.”

“You misunderstood. To communicate between worlds, you must enter a sleep-like state.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” she muttered, fumbling in the dark toward the bench. She’d barely sat on it when a wave of calm rolled over her. A moment later the cell dissolved, and she stood in an open field of long, amber grass.

“Mikey? Takka?”

A cyclone, no taller than she was, swirled toward her.

“Why did you not heed my words?” demanded a deep voice from inside the mini tornado.

She folded her arms. “Mikey, if that’s you, quit the theatrics.”

The whirlwind morphed into the little boy. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Lucky guess. By the way, you never told me not to drink the water.”

“I said it was sacred. That means don’t drink it.”

“The queen drinks it. What about that?”

He gave her an indulgent smile. “She’s the queen.”

Winnie let the topic drop. “So you probably heard I’m kind of in a dungeon.”

“The oracle fixed that. Once you’re out, remember, Queen Bogen won’t trust you to lead her army if she doesn’t like you. Try to be more polite.”

She could be polite, but leading an army? She hadn’t given a lot of thought to what that would involve. “I might not know exactly how to do that.” What did she know about war? She’d gotten a C- in History.

“Humans are more resourceful than my people. That’s why you’re there in my place.”

Her insides pulsed with uncertainty. What if she wasn’t resourceful enough?

“Windy. You’re the bravest warrior I know.”

She didn’t feel brave. She didn’t feel like a warrior anymore either. Mikey and the field vanished. Winnie woke in her cell to the sound of multiple feet shushing toward her door. The bolt slid back. She jumped up just as the door opened.

She stepped out to freedom and four guards carrying lanterns instead of spears. A fifth person, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt and towering above the others, accompanied them.

“Kip? What are you doing here?”

He winked. “The queen’s ready to speak with you again.”