There was no sign of life on the walls or the towers, but down in the courtyard figures moved about. It was tough to see many details, but they walked purposefully, weaving among one another. Nobody sat or stood idle.
After the Domingo circled the castle twice, the captain, with two other men, approached Cole. “All we see are women on the move,” the captain said. “There’s an unnatural pattern to their activities. They could be drones, all but mindless. Or they could be dangerous. That’s for you to find out, Cole. The brothers, Jed and Eli, will pilot the lifeboat.”
The pair bore a strong resemblance to each other, though Eli was a little taller and broader through the shoulders. Eli had a longbow and Jed held a crossbow. They looked to be in their thirties.
“We’ll get you there and bring you back,” Eli said.
“Unless you don’t,” Jace added.
Jed smiled ruefully. “Unless we don’t. Come on.”
They led Cole to the rear of the skycraft, where they climbed into a lifeboat with the name Okie Dokie stenciled on the side. Jed squatted at the back, near the tiller and a pair of levers. Cole got situated beside Eli.
“Remember to shout if you use the sword,” Jace advised. “It might not respond if you say ‘away’ too softly. It’s a safety measure.”
“Got it,” Cole said, stomach fluttering, hands trembling.
“Die bravely,” Jace said.
“Die bravely,” the captain and several others echoed.
Cole glanced nervously at Eli.
“It’s unlucky to wish you good luck,” Eli explained. “We use ‘die bravely’ instead.”
“Thanks,” Cole said to the people on deck, with a little wave.
When the lifeboat lurched into the air, Cole caught hold of the side. It flew quite a bit faster than the Domingo and also rocked a lot more.
“The lifeboat is more of a ride,” Jed said with a laugh.
Cole watched as Jed worked the controls. The tiller swayed the boat from side to side. One lever tipped the nose up and down, the other adjusted their speed. Cole felt amusement-park tingles with every motion Jed made.
“We’ll drop you in the middle of the yard,” Eli said. “Just climb down the ladder. If you step on the ground and a monster bursts out of hiding, get right back on the ladder and we’ll soar away. Otherwise, we’ll hover above, helping to spot trouble, ready to swoop in if you need us. Understood?”
Cole watched the castle walls drawing near. His mouth was dry. “Yeah.”
“You never know,” Eli said. “There might be no trouble at all.”
“Castle is in good repair,” Jed said.
“Right,” said Eli.
“And it’s big. And we can see semblances.”
“We can always hope for the best.”
Jed shrugged.
As the lifeboat breezed over the outer wall, Eli leaned forward. “Busy, busy.”
Along the edges of the courtyard, doors opened and closed. Older women entered, exited, and crossed the yard, dressed in plain dresses and shawls.
The lifeboat slowed, hovering.
Dozens of women strode this way and that. None were young enough to be called middle-aged, but none were bent with extreme age, either. Some were empty-handed, some held buckets or brooms. None spoke or looked at one another, their expressions neutral.
“What do you think?” Jed asked.
“Let’s watch them,” Eli replied.
Although they were constantly coming and going, the number of women in the yard stayed at around three dozen. None of them gazed up at the lifeboat.
“What do you think, Cole?” Eli asked.
“Creepy.”
“I’ll grant you that,” Eli said. “Let’s see if this shakes them up.” He tossed a rope ladder over the side. It unrolled, the end dangling a couple of feet above the surface of the yard.
The women took no notice of it.
“They don’t act too alert,” Eli said. “It might mean there is no predator here. They would make easy prey.”
“They could be the predators,” Jed said. “You never know.”
“Only one way to find out,” Eli said, patting Cole on the shoulder. “You ready?”
No part of Cole felt ready. His heart was pounding and his skin felt clammy. Managing a nod, he put a leg over the side and started down the flimsy ladder.
CHAPTER
9
SCOUT
The ladder swung and twisted as Cole descended one rung at a time. Holding the flag made the climb tricky. A few rungs from the bottom he paused to study the women. Though not identical, they resembled one another—grayish complexions, neutral expressions, creased faces, bony builds, medium height, hair in buns, faded dresses, dark shawls.
He could find no differences between them and real people, except for their uninterested attitudes. Nobody glanced his way. Nobody paused. Nobody smiled. Instead each woman walked briskly about her business.
Cole stepped down to the bottom rung. He had been warned more than once that trouble tended to happen when you first reached the castle. What if this was it? What if he didn’t make it back? Nobody would ever know what happened to him—not his parents and not his friends. He wondered if Jenna and Dalton believed he would come for them. He wondered if they would forgive him if he never showed up. Wherever they were, he hoped they weren’t on dangerous missions, being used as monster bait.
Taking a deep breath, Cole checked the position of his sword. Keeping one hand on the ladder, he stepped down onto the paving stones of the courtyard.
Every woman immediately stopped. With chilling synchronization, they turned and stared directly at him.
Chills washed across Cole’s shoulders and down his back. Frozen with surreal horror, he stared back.
As the moment stretched out, he wanted to race back up the ladder. But some instinctive part of him worried that as soon as he moved, they would rush him. He didn’t breathe.
One woman bustled toward him, her footfalls noisy in the silent yard. She peered nervously over her shoulder more than once. The others remained still, solemn eyes boring into Cole. The oncoming woman removed her shawl. When she reached him, she wrapped it around his shoulders and fastened it below his neck with a clasp.
As if responding to some invisible signal, the other women turned and continued about their business. One moment he had their full attention, the next he was utterly forgotten.
Remembering the flag in his hand, Cole set it on the ground. It stood upright despite lacking a base.
The woman without her shawl held out a hand to Cole. “This way,” she urged. “We haven’t much time.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Not here,” she said, anxious eyes checking the area. “Indoors.” Her agitation was convincing. Supposedly, she wasn’t alive, but there was nothing phony about her appearance or demeanor. It was in the details—the redness at the corners of her eyes, the faint gloss of sweat on her forehead, the loose skin of her neck, the spots on the back of her hands, the ragged tips of her fingernails.
Cole took her hand and let her lead him away from the ladder. She placed her other arm around his shoulders protectively. Women marched past on either side, going about their errands without a flicker of interest in what was happening around them. But they had to be aware. He had stopped traffic when he first stepped off the ladder.
The woman kept her head down and walked swiftly. It didn’t seem like she meant him any harm. If anything, he thought she was trying to help. But he stayed ready, in case she turned on him.
Cole noticed fossils embedded in the paving stones—mostly leaves, bugs, and fish. As they neared the castle, he saw similar fossils preserved in the wall.
The woman led him to a minor door into the main castle. They entered a corridor and passed another woman on her way out.
“What’s your name?” Cole asked quietly.
“Not yet,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. They moved down the hall, then through a
door into a storage room. Releasing him, she shut the door behind them. “Merva.”
“I’m Cole. What’s going on?”
“We have no time. It’s expecting me. We can’t break routine. It must be cleaned. You must come.”
“What’s expecting you? Come where?”
She took his hand again. “Keep near me. Move how I move. Say nothing.”
He resisted her pull. “Wait. You have to tell me what’s going on.”
Her grip tightened, and her face became agonized. “There’s not time. It’ll kill us all!”
Cole let her lead him from the room. She increased her pace to a fast trot. They passed a few other women in dresses and shawls.
This was happening too quickly. Cole had no idea where they were going or what they would face when they got there. He had lost all control of the situation. Merva’s desperation had vanished when they exited the storage room, but the glimpse of her terror had left him even more deeply unnerved. At least nothing had attacked them yet. Maybe Merva knew what she was doing.
He tried to keep an eye out for valuables. The halls were mostly bare. What furniture he saw looked simple.
They started down a dim, winding staircase. Women climbed up from below, passing them without a glance.
The stairs deposited them into a long, cavernous room, comparable to a subway station. A single creature filled the chamber—a nightmarish cross between a centipede and a scorpion. Armored by a glossy black shell, the monster was the size of a train. It had five sets of claws, each pincer larger than a minivan. Hundreds of legs supported the long, segmented body. The gargantuan tail curled up toward the ceiling, a vicious-looking stinger at the tip.
Anchored to rings in the floor, thick chains crisscrossed each segment of its body. Women bustled everywhere, cleaning the creature with rags, mops, brooms, chisels, and sponges.
The sheer scale of the monster left Cole stunned. The busy women looked like insects by comparison. No wonder Merva had worried about making it angry.
Cole realized he was in way over his head. His best chance of survival was probably to follow Merva’s instructions. She seemed to think there was a chance of keeping the monster calm. After a brief hesitation at his first sight of the colossal scorpipede, he stayed close to her, carefully matching her pace and posture. She no longer hurried. He tried to breathe quietly.
She led him to a wall where she retrieved a large iron crowbar. Cole reached for one as well, but she waved him off, pointing at hers. Apparently she wanted them to share.
Merva walked along the huge body of the scorpipede. Each segment was several paces long and more than three times taller than Cole. She stopped where the casing of one segment overlapped the next, and started chiseling at the gap between them. With her eyes, Merva told Cole to help. Placing his hands on the crowbar, he assisted as they chipped away material from the slick surface of the shell.
A ripple ran along the body of the scorpipede, making some of the chains squeal. The nearest pincers scissored opened and closed a few times, prompting some of the women to momentarily back away.
Merva wedged the crowbar deeper between the segments and scraped harder. Cole helped her push, lever, and pull.
The scorpipede shuddered. Cole felt the sharp vibrations through the crowbar. Then came a screeching roar that was high and low at the same time. The penetrating noise thrummed in his bones and teeth.
The room went still. In unison, all the women besides Merva dropped their tools. Brushes, gaffs, crowbars, poles, mops, and brooms clattered to the floor. As one, the women turned to stare at Merva.
All color draining from her face, Merva brushed Cole’s hands from the crowbar. “It knows,” she murmured.
Merva glanced down at the shawl he wore and then around at the women. Cole suddenly realized that the attention was on her because she lacked her shawl. Her expression became blank, her voice monotone. “It knows I tried to conceal you. You might as well try to run.”
As Cole took his first step away from the scorpipede, the creature reared up, mighty chains snapping like threads and whipping around violently. More than one woman went flying, but the others didn’t scatter. They held still, watching Merva.
Glancing back, Cole saw the tail lash down, spearing Merva with the stinger. He skidded to a halt. The stinger withdrew and stabbed another woman with merciless precision. Merva stayed on her feet for a moment, eyes distant, then collapsed.
Cole felt horrified, but there was nothing he could do to help her. If he didn’t get away soon, he would be next. As the segmented body bucked and squirmed, giant claws clamped other women. None cried out or tried to escape.
Focusing on the stairway, Cole yanked out his sword. The floor trembled with the thrashing of the scorpipede. The castle walls groaned. The whole place might come down on him any second, if the stinger didn’t pierce him first. Pointing his sword at the base of the stairs, Cole yelled, “Away!”
The sword pulled his body from the floor. Holding tightly, he sped forward at a low trajectory, never more than a few feet high. As his destination approached, Cole realized he would be crushed against the stone steps. But the sword decelerated enough at the last moment that instead of impacting with backbreaking force, he almost stayed on his feet, and tumbled into the steps jarringly instead of fatally.
The scorpipede screech-roared again. Driven by terror, Cole rose and dashed up the steps. He had hurt one hand trying to catch himself, and a shoulder and knee had taken harsh blows, but there was no time to really recognize the pain.
The stairway seemed longer going up than coming down. His thighs burned with exertion. The stairway rumbled and then quaked. Cole could hear stones falling.
He considered using his sword to climb faster, but since the stairway spiraled, he could never point it very far ahead, and little leaps didn’t seem worth the risk of falling. Beyond the top of the stairs, Cole tried to retrace the route to the courtyard. The dim corridors all looked alike, and soon he knew he had lost his way. He stayed at a full sprint, hoping that he wasn’t going in circles. The castle continued to shake in response to an ominous rumble in the foundation.
Finally Cole saw a promising door at the end of a hall up ahead. It was not where he had entered, but it opened onto the courtyard. The lifeboat was in the air at the far side, ladder still dangling.
“I need out!” Cole screamed, rushing forward. The lifeboat banked and came his way.
Cole considered using the sword, but he would have to leap across almost the whole courtyard. He wasn’t sure if it would pull him that far and wasn’t sure he could catch hold of the ladder if it did. Instead he held the Jumping Sword ready and ran hard.
As the lifeboat came closer, the enormous scorpipede erupted from the ground between them, its shiny black body stretching skyward like a fairy-tale beanstalk, multiple sets of pincers grasping toward the little skycraft. Huge blocks of stone fountained like confetti and crashed down in all directions. Cole dodged a large one before the quaking ground dropped him to his knees.
For a moment the bulk of the creature completely obscured the lifeboat. Gritty dust hung in the air. A screeching roar saturated Cole’s eardrums. By the time Cole saw the lifeboat again, it was curving up and away from the castle, passing beyond the wall, well out of jumping range.
He had missed his ride.
A lonely sense of doom smothered him.
His fate was sealed.
The towering scorpipede swiveled, then started to curl back on itself in Cole’s direction. Relatively small mouthparts clicked open and closed, eager little mandibles. The body continued to emerge from the hole it had created. Last would come the tail and the evil stinger.
From high above, an arrow the size of a javelin lanced down. It hit the glossy carapace and rebounded harmlessly. The attack did no damage, but the scorpipede reared back in that direction to investigate.
The oversized arrow must have come from the ballista aboard the Domingo. They were still trying to h
elp him!
Cole scrambled to his feet. Maybe the lifeboat would come back around. He had to buy himself time. Nobody would be able to save him if he let fifty tons of ugly mash him into paste.
His only hope was the Jumping Sword. He scanned the courtyard, then noticed the balconies jutting from a pair of the castle’s tallest towers.
With another ear-rending screech, the scorpipede swung back his way. Cole pointed his sword toward some bushes at the base of one of the towers and shouted, “Away!”
He was attempting to jump farther than his previous leap. As the sword pulled him forward, the acceleration took his breath away. He skimmed over the ground at a speed that should have led to death by road rash, but again the sword slowed somewhat at the end. His feet hit the ground an instant before his momentum heaved him into a bush.
After coming to rest, Cole realized that he was uninjured. Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as he extracted himself from the foliage. He got to his feet in time to see the tail of the scorpipede slither out of the hole and then curve up into the air, poised to sting. The monster scuttled his way.
Cole aimed his sword at a balcony high above him. If he failed to reach it, the fall would surely kill him. “Away!”
He had only jumped low before. This time he felt like a superhero taking flight. Air rushed by as he rocketed upward. He realized that somehow the sword exerted a pull on his whole body. If he had to trust only the strength of his grip to keep hold of an object accelerating so rapidly, he never would have managed to do it.
Cole reached the balcony at the peak of his jump, allowing him to land lightly. After his ground-skimming leaps, the soft landing was a welcome relief.
The stinger-tipped tail rose up higher than the balcony, then blurred forward, punching a hole in the wall a few feet away. Shattered bits of stone peppered him as Cole fell flat. The stinger retracted and exploded up through the bottom of the balcony, missing him by inches. The balcony rocked and made horrible cracking sounds. The scorpipede might be striking blindly, but it wouldn’t have to wait long for results.