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  “Which is why they hid the clues along with the crowns,” said Esmeralda. “I get it! But what has this got to do with Aunt Millie?”

  “I believe she may be a member of the Sect of the Sinister Spell,” explained Percy. “An ancient, secret society, whose aim is to bring the crowns together and use their power to recast Grinder Prickleback’s spell!”

  “Why would they do that?” asked Trundle.

  “In the hope that they can use it to bring all of the Sundered Lands under their sway!” pronounced the herald. “I believe that is why Esmeralda’s aunt is so intent on getting her hands on the crowns! She’s going to use their powers to brew up the spell again so she can control the mind of every person living in the Sundered Lands!”

  Trundle eyed the Herald Pursuivant in alarm. “Then we really must stop her.” He gulped, horrified by Millie Rose Thorne’s evil ambition.

  “Indeed we must!” agreed Percy. “For everyone’s sake!”

  “Nightreef ho!” called Esmeralda from the tiller.

  Trundle lifted his snout and gazed ahead of them. They were so close to Nightreef that it filled half the sky, blotting out the stars. It was black and featureless, and so huge that it made Trundle feel that he and the Thief in the Night and everyone else aboard were no bigger than gnats.

  Esmeralda shifted their course, catching the rushing winds so that the gallant little skyboat rose higher and higher across the black mass of the reef, tacking to and fro while every moment more stars vanished and the oppressive blackness loomed closer and closer, like a vast gaping mouth waiting to swallow them up.

  Trundle cowered in the bows as Nightreef rushed closer. He hardly dared look at it. No one spoke. Even Esmeralda didn’t seem to have anything to say. And as the monstrous darkness hurtled at them, Trundle became quite convinced that Nightreef had no end, that they would be engulfed by its blackness and lost forever.

  But then he noticed a glimmer above them—a thin, silvery line of light, as thrilling and exciting as a new dawn. They raced on toward the thread of light. It came closer and closer, and grew wider and brighter and longer and deeper.

  Then, with a whoop from Esmeralda, the Thief in the Night lifted above the long whaleback of Nightreef and came shooting into dazzling sunlight. The sky was blue—a fierce, blazing blue that was like diamonds and sapphires.

  Trundle rubbed his eyes, blinded for a few moments by the intense light.

  “Don’t risk looking into the sun,” warned Percy. “Shield your eyes! But look!”

  Trundle peeped from between his fingers. Ahead of them, across a short space of gleaming crystal air, he saw an island.

  “Sunsett!” breathed Trundle. “Well, I never!”

  Sunsett! The home of the ancient Badger Lords.

  As they sailed closer, it struck Trundle as a beautiful but desolate place. It was hard to imagine anything being alive here. It was a landscape of sun-bleached cliffs and white stony valleys, of barren rocky deserts and undulating sand dunes, stretching as far as the eye could see, baked hard and dry by the merciless stare of the unsleeping sun.

  Not a bird clove the air. Not a blade of grass poked itself out of the ground.

  “What a dreadful place!” murmured Esmeralda. ‘There’s nothing here. Nothing at all.”

  “There must be,” said Percy. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Face it, Perce, if there ever was anything here, it would have crumbled to dust by now. I don’t think anything could survive in this heat!”

  “What’s that?” asked Trundle, pointing to a sharp ridge of land at the end of a long, narrow valley.

  “A bunch of old rocks!” grumbled Esmeralda.

  But Trundle wasn’t so sure. He grabbed up the telescope and applied it to his eye. A towering cliff face of brown stone leaped forward.

  “There are carvings on it!” he gasped. “Fantastic carvings!”

  It wasn’t long before they could all see what Trundle had seen. Etched deep into the rock was the front wall of a great palace or temple. Huge stone steps led to a deep entranceway flanked by tall pillars.

  “It looks like something has survived after all!” said Percy, his voice quivering with excitement. “Bring us down, Esmeralda. And let’s hope that doorway leads somewhere!”

  “I bet it will!” said Trundle. “I bet it will lead us somewhere amazing!”

  Esmeralda brought the Thief in the Night down to a smooth, gliding landing that cut a narrow furrow in the sand only a few yards away from the huge dark entranceway carved into the cliff.

  The three adventurers disembarked and plodded through the fine, shimmering sand. Percy left the carpetbag behind, the crossbow and quiver now slung over his shoulder. Trundle carried the dwindling box in a backpack, all six crowns stowed safely within.

  They climbed the steps and walked cautiously into the darkness of the deep entrance. There was no doorway, although they saw the remains of hinges that suggested that once, long ago, there had been immense, heavy doors guarding the way in.

  They walked down a long, square tunnel that stretched away into cool darkness. Esmeralda conjured up a palm light so they could see where they were going. The walls and ceiling of the tunnel were smooth and featureless, and there was a fine layer of sand underfoot, blown in by the wind.

  Trundle glanced over his shoulder, seeing their three sets of footprints winding back to the bright square of the entrance. No one has been here for thousands upon thousands of years, he thought to himself. The idea struck him as sad and a little bit creepy.

  Esmeralda stopped, lifting her snout and sniffing.

  “What is it?” asked Percy.

  “I smell magic!” she said, her voice echoing back and forth between the thick stone walls. “Very old magic, I’d say! We’d better be prepared for unexpected things to happen.”

  “What kind of things?” asked Trundle with a shudder.

  Esmeralda eyed him. “If I knew that, they wouldn’t be unexpected now, would they?” she said.

  “I suppose not,” Trundle had to admit.

  “Our purpose here is to find the altar mentioned in the rhyme,” said Percy. “Let’s keep our eyes peeled!”

  They marched on, Esmeralda in the lead, Percy close behind, and Trundle bringing up the rear. And that was why it was Trundle who first heard the noises behind them.

  He turned, staring back the way they had come. The sounds had been very faint and far off, but they rang unpleasant bells in his head. He held his breath and listened intently. There was creaking—like windship timbers—and a swooshing sound like wind in sails. And then there was a long, sliding crunch . . . as of something large coming in to land in the sand.

  “Hold on a moment,” he said.

  “What is it, my boy?” asked Percy, coming back to his side.

  “Something has just arrived,” Trundle said with a gulp.

  “Pirates?” breathed Esmeralda.

  “Who else?” said Percy.

  And even as they stood there, hollow, booming voices came echoing down the tunnel. Trundle couldn’t make any sense of what was being said, but the voices were cruel and harsh. And then black shapes began to appear in the square of hot golden light at the entrance to the tunnel.

  “Rats!” hissed Esmeralda. “That’s Grizzletusk’s scurvy crew for sure! I’d hoped we’d outrun ’em!”

  “Perhaps we still can,” said Percy. “Come along—swift’s the word, my young friends! Swift’s the word!” And so saying, Percy began to trot along the corridor at a surprising speed.

  Esmeralda and Trundle looked at each other for a moment, then chased after him.

  Maybe he was right. Maybe they could outrun Grizzletusk and his murderous band of cutthroats—but Trundle couldn’t help but feel they were doing no more than running deeper and deeper into a trap from which there could be no escape.

  “Oh, great,” groaned Esmeralda, holding up her palm light. “Can anyone swim at all?”

  “Not as such,” said Trundle.

/>   “I’ve never tried,” added Percy.

  “Me neither,” said Esmeralda. “Which means we have a bit of a problem.”

  The three of them gazed out over a wide lake of dark water that stretched from one wall of the tunnel to the other, entirely blocking their way ahead. The still, murky water was dotted with large, pale, blobby things that looked like a cross between lily pads and mushrooms.

  “It might be shallow,” suggested Trundle, drawing his sword and kneeling at the brink of the lake. He lowered the blade into the water, hoping for its point to touch the bottom. It didn’t.

  “Maybe we could jump from pad to pad?” he suggested.

  “I think we have to risk it,” said Percy. “Listen!”

  The tunnel reverberated with shouting and with running feet. The pirates weren’t far behind, and the longer they stood there wondering what to do, the closer Grizzletusk’s bloodthirsty hoards would come.

  “That’s got my vote!” said Esmeralda. “Here goes!” She backed up a few paces, then ran for the brimming brink of the lake. Trundle could hardly watch as she sailed through the air. But she landed safely. The pad wobbled and drifted a little, but she kept her footing.

  She paused for a few moments, then made a second jump onto the nearest pad. The puffy growth tilted, and she had to stop to adjust her balance. Ripples spread across the lake and lapped the banks.

  She grinned back. “It’s fun!” she shouted. “Come on!” She took another flying leap and then another and suddenly she was halfway across the lake.

  Percy took a deep breath and made the first leap. “Woo-hoop!” he gasped, his arms flapping as he fought for balance. But then he steadied himself and took the next leap.

  Trundle wasn’t a big fan of deep water. But even if he fell in, the pads were close enough together for him to splash his way to one of them and climb aboard. He hoped!

  He took a breath and jumped. The pad was unpleasantly squishy and wobbly under his feet, like a worn-out and soggy old mattress. But he kept his balance easily enough and flung himself forward onto the next pad.

  “Get a move on, slowpokes!” yelled Esmeralda. She was full of confidence now, trampolining her way from pad to pad, and almost at the far side of the lake.

  “Be careful!” warned Percy.

  “Oh, please!” retorted Esmeralda. “As if I’d— whoops!” Her overconfidence let her down. Her foot slipped on one of the pads, and she went slithering feet first over the edge.

  Trundle was about to yell at her for showing off when something struck him. There had been no splash!

  Esmeralda was clinging grimly to the far side of the pad, her eyes full of fear.

  “There’s no water!” she gasped, clawing at the mushy pad.

  “What do you mean?” called Percy.

  “I’m hanging in . . . nothing!” yelled Esmeralda. “This isn’t a lake!” She called out loudly. “Magic be gone! Truth be revealed!”

  Trundle felt an odd sensation, like an icy wind rushing into his eyes—and suddenly everything around him looked different.

  “Lawks!” he wailed, staring down into a great deep, dark chasm. The water had vanished, and the blobby pads had turned into chunks of floating powerstone. And worst of all was the fact that evil, greedy eyes were peering up at them from the black depths.

  And even as Trundle stared in horror into the chasm, the powerstone shifted under his feet and he lost his balance and fell. He just managed to snatch hold of the edge of the bobbing powerstone rock. He hung there, gasping for breath, his legs dangling.

  “Hold steady there, both of you!” called Percy. “Trundle, I’m coming!”

  Trundle hung on grimly as Percy unwound the rope belt from around his waist. He swung twice, then let the end of the rope snake out toward Trundle.

  The rope flicked past Trundle’s snout. He made a frantic grab for it and caught it in both hands. For a few dire moments, Trundle hung in the chasm, clinging grimly to the rope as Percy hauled hard on the other end. He was sure he heard champing jaws below him, but a few good strong pulls from Percy and he was soon safe aboard the floating chunk of powerstone.

  “Thank you!” he panted. “There are things down there—creatures!”

  “It’s probably best not to look down,” Percy suggested.

  “I’m still hanging here, when you’re ready!” called Esmeralda. “No hurry—take your time!”

  “We’re coming, Esmeralda,” Percy said.

  “So are the pirates!” yelped Trundle. Some way back along the tunnel, the red light of torches could now be seen, accompanied by shouting voices and stamping feet.

  Hand in hand, Trundle and Percy began to leap toward Esmeralda. Trundle tried not to think of the hungry beasts that were lurking below, waiting for a tasty meal to drop into their mouths.

  They reached Esmeralda and hauled her to safety.

  “There they are!” howled Grizzletusk. “On the other side of the lake! Dive in, me hearties! Go get ’em!”

  Excellent! thought Trundle. They still see the water! This should be interesting.

  It was. A few of the pirates leaped into the nonexistent water and went wailing down into the depths. Slavering and chewing noises sounded from the deep darkness.

  “Stop, you fools!” shouted Millie Rose Thorne. “It’s not real. The water is an illusion! Can’t you see that? Shoot them!”

  “Muskets up, lads!” bellowed Razorback. “Fill ’em with holes!”

  “Let’s get going!” said Esmeralda as several pirates fired at once.

  Trundle and Percy didn’t need telling twice. With three long bounds, they reached the far side of the chasm, bullets and balls whistling around their ears.

  As they pelted along the tunnel, Trundle looked back. The pirates were crossing the chasm, jumping from stone to stone. He was rather pleased to see that a few of them lost their footing and plunged into the chasm.

  The beasts down there were going to have quite a feast!

  It felt to Trundle as though they’d been running along this slowly descending tunnel forever.

  “Must pause . . . for breath . . .” he gasped.

  “No time!” exclaimed Esmeralda. “Do you want the pirates to catch us?”

  “No . . . but . . .”

  “Look!” Percy said, pointing up ahead to where a stone door hung open. “We’re reached somewhere at last!”

  “See, Trun?” said Esmeralda. “Buck up, there’s a good fellow.”

  Trundle gathered his last remaining strength and tottered toward the doorway.

  They entered a gaping darkness. Esmeralda muttered something, and her palm light grew brighter. They had come into a long room lined with tall, carved wooden caskets standing on end. Some of the caskets were broken open, revealing the upright mummified remains of animals. But the caskets didn’t only contain mummies—there was treasure as well. Sparkling rings spilled out over the sandy floor, along with coins and necklaces and bracelets and jewels.

  “Oooh!” breathed Esmeralda, reaching for a silver tiara. “Pretty things!”

  “No!” barked Percy. “Trust me! Touch nothing! Let’s get out of here before anything happens.”

  “Like what?” asked Trundle, gazing spellbound at all the beautiful things strewn so enticingly over the ground.

  “I don’t know,” said Percy. “But look at that!” He pointed to something huddled in a corner. It was a skeleton, shrouded in faded rags. And now that Trundle looked more carefully, he saw there were several other skeletons sprawled on the ground.

  “Do you think they were trying to steal the treasure?” asked Esmeralda.

  “Yes,” Percy replied.

  “So . . . what killed them?” asked Trundle.

  “I don’t know,” said Percy. “That’s what worries me.”

  “He’s right, let’s get out of here!” agreed Esmeralda.

  They trotted the length of the chamber. Trundle counted at least a dozen skeletons before they came to an arched doorway at the far e
nd.

  “Maybe we could shift some of these mummy cases to block the way out?” Esmeralda suggested. “It’ll slow the pirates down.”

  The wooden cases were heavy and unwieldy, but they did manage to drag a couple from their niches in the walls and tip them over across the doorway. They were about to shove a third casket into place when they heard voices from the other end of the chamber.

  They scrambled wildly over the barricade of caskets as the pirates came pouring into the long room.

  “Cor!” they heard one of the pirates say. “Take a gander at all this treasure, mateys!”

  “Loads and loads of jools!” hollered another. “Enough to retire on!”

  “Why bother chasing them hedgehogs when there’s all this luvverly loot just lyin’ around for the takin’?” suggested yet another.

  Trundle peeped over the top of the barrier. In the flickering torchlight, he saw the pirates milling around, grabbing up handfuls of jewelery and trinkets.

  “You’re right there, me buckos,” growled Razorback, snatching up a fistful of coins. “I says we snaffle what we can and head back to the Iron Pig!”

  “Not on your slippery guts, you don’t!” snarled Grizzletusk, barging his way into the chamber. “We can take our pick of this stuff on the way back. Meanwhile, get after them hedgehogs. Smart, now!”

  There was some grumbling at this.

  “You fools!” shouted Millie Rose Thorne, coming into the room behind the captain. “You call this treasure? It’s nothing compared with what you’ll get once we have those three hedgehogs in our clutches!”

  “Maybe so,” muttered Razorback, “but I’m not leaving here empty-handed!” And so saying, he shoved the fistful of coins into a pocket.

  “Grrrrwwwwwwwllllll!” A long, deep, eerie snarling sound rang through the chamber. “Grahhhhhhh-rrrrgggghhhh!”

  Trundle watched in mute dread as the mummies in the open caskets began to twitch and writhe. Their eyes opened, revealing an eerie light. Their arms lifted, fingers curling like claws, and then—horror of horrors!—they came lurching out of their caskets on stiff and jerky legs.