The Rogue Knight (31 page)

“How could that not be Mira?” Honor challenged, stepping forward. “Why bring all of these soldiers to apprehend three children?”

“Shaping is at work here,” Stafford said. “Stand down, Honor.”

Weapons ready, the Enforcers pressed closer to them, cutting off all escape. Honor glanced uncertainly at her mother.

“This is a bust,” Mira said. “Try Nori.”

Face grim, sword ready, Owandell paced toward them. Cole lunged at Nori, grabbed her wrist, and yelled, “Honor!”

C
HAPTER

 31 

MR. BARRUM

I
t was night. Stars shone in the sky overhead. Cole, Jace, and Mira crouched in a wide field full of enormous weeds, facing a heavily weathered wooden fence that must have stood fifty feet high. Turning, Cole found that a discarded washing machine, bigger than a dump truck, blocked much of his view. An unseen light source beyond the washing machine brightened the yard. To one side of Cole grew a clump of waist-high dandelions. On the other was a snail shell almost the size of a soccer ball.

“I guess that wasn't Honor,” Cole said. “One down, two to go.”

“Don't talk about what we have left,” Jace said. “Let's win it here. We've got this.” He paused, looking around. “Where are we?”

“I don't know,” Mira said. “But I'll take anywhere over that last place.”

“Was that how it happened?” Cole asked. “Enforcers came and grabbed you?”

Mira shook her head. “Trillian's version was extra dramatic. There was no attack with guards dying. It all happened in the practice yard. We were taken by my father's bodyguards. Like ten or so. Galin died trying to defend us, and Honor had to be disarmed. My father never came to the practice yard. Owandell was there, though.”

“We didn't have much time to hunt for Honor,” Jace said.

“Once we started straying from my memories, it went bad fast,” Mira said. “Trillian didn't leave us much choice about where to go. Did you notice how we got driven to the practice yard?”

“Did we even see Honor?” Cole asked.

“I don't know,” Mira said. “I was trying to pay attention. I guess she might have been some random guard. Or a bird in the background. Or she could have been in some part of the castle we never saw.”

“That wouldn't be very fair,” Cole said. “Trillian said we'd have a chance to win.”

“He told us it would be hard,” Jace said. “Maybe we bailed out too quickly. Maybe we needed to fight our way someplace else.”

“We were surrounded,” Mira said. “Owandell was coming to execute us. We had to make our guess and move on.”

“What is that thing?” Jace asked, gesturing at the old washing machine.

“It's a washing machine,” Cole said. “Probably a broken one if it's out here. But it's way too big. Everything is oversized.”

“What does it wash?” Mira asked.

“Clothes,” Cole said. He noticed a crushed soda can the size of a wastebasket. He heard crickets chirping. Giving the stars a more serious look, he found the Big Dipper. “We're in my world.”

“Your world's a dump,” Jace said.

Cole barely heard the insult. The yard was suddenly familiar. He walked sideways so he could see around the washing machine. Sure enough, there was a one-story house with a large back porch and rabbit hutches off to the side. A porch light was on, and from one window came the bluish flickering of a television. “I know where we are.”

“Where?” Mira asked.

“Mr. Barrum's house,” Cole said.

“That tells us nothing,” Jace said.

“I used to live in Idaho,” Cole said. “Up until first grade. Mr. Barrum had a big weedy yard at the end of our street. He kept rabbits in the back. Past his house, it was just empty fields. All the kids in the neighborhood were scared of him. When I was in kindergarten, our cat, Smokey, vanished one night. Some other kids lost their cats too. Dad said it was probably coyotes or an owl, but all the kids knew it was Mr. Barrum. He always carried an ax around, and when kids went near his house, he'd shake the ax at us and tell us to stay away from his rabbits.”

“We're in your old town?” Mira asked.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “Outside of Boise. But we're small. Trillian shrank us. Or else he made the yard really big.”

“This Barrum guy wasn't a giant?” Jace asked.

“No,” Cole said.

“Do you think he's the threat?” Mira asked.

“Probably,” Cole said. “I hated that guy. I used to have nightmares about him.”

“Does he have a family?” Jace asked. “Does he have dogs?”

“He lived alone,” Cole said. “Just the bunnies.”

“Do we look for Honor here?” Mira asked. “Should we go somewhere else? Your house maybe? Someplace with more people?”

“It'll be hard to get out of the yard,” Cole said. “His whole backyard is fenced. I remember climbing up to look over the fence once with my sister and . . . some older friend. They boosted me up. I remember the washing machine. And the rabbit cages. Mr. Barrum saw me peeking. He came stomping out of the house, yelling about private property. We ran for our lives.”

“If Barrum is the bad guy, then Honor might be a rabbit,” Jace reasoned.

“That would make sense,” Cole said. “If Trillian wanted to mess with my head, making Honor one of those rabbits would be brutal. You didn't go near Mr. Barrum's rabbits. You stayed away from his house. You tried not to ever see him.”

“How many rabbits?” Mira asked.

“I don't know,” Cole said. “A bunch. Maybe ten. I only saw into his yard one time.”

“It's my turn to make the guess,” Jace told Mira. “Should we go see if any of the rabbits remind you of your sister?”

“We need to be quiet,” Cole said. “He's in there watching TV.”

“What's TV?” Mira asked.

“It's . . . well . . . a box that tells you stories,” Cole said.

“Your world has weird magic,” Jace said.

“Let's hurry,” Mira said. “Remember, Trillian is running this. He might make Mr. Barrum more vigilant than usual. He might add things Cole doesn't expect. That just happened to me with my family.”

They jogged across the yard, weaving around tall weeds, a huge work glove, and a few cinder blocks the length of beds. After jumping over a green rubber hose, they took cover behind a rusty barbecue not far from the hutches.

The hutches looked like a row of small shacks on stilts. The fronts were open, leaving the rabbit cages visible, though no rabbits were in sight. Each cage adjoined a small enclosed space where the rabbit could hide away.

“Eight cages,” Cole said. “Must be eight rabbits.”

“Unless some are empty,” Jace said. “He raises them for meat, right?”

“I always thought so,” Cole said. “I figured he probably ate our cat, too.”

“Those cages will be hard to reach,” Mira said.

“It would be cool if those Jumping Swords started working again,” Jace murmured.

“I've tried,” Cole said.

Mira ran over to the hutches. Cole and Jace joined her. The bottom of the hutches were more than three times their height.

Mira walked around one of the wooden legs supporting the hutch, appraising it. “Can we climb this?”

“There isn't anything to grip,” Jace said. “A Jumping Sword would sure be handy.”

Cole drew his sword and aimed it up at one of the cages. Closing his eyes, he envisioned the sword working. He pictured ghostly flames dancing along the length of the blade. He put all of his will into making the sword function.

Opening his eyes, Cole firmly commanded, “Away.”

Nothing happened.

“Nice work,” Jace said dryly.

“We have to get up there,” Mira said, shooting Jace a reproachful look.

“What if we drag over some of those blocks?” Jace asked.

“Those giant cinder blocks are too heavy,” Cole said, scanning the area. On the porch near the back door he spotted a cooler, and beside it a bag of blue plastic cups. “Got it.”

Not waiting to explain, Cole ran to the porch. Jace and Mira came with him. The clear plastic bag wasn't tied shut, so Cole pulled open the mouth and went inside, feeling a little like he was wrestling with a parachute. The cups were stacked inside of one another. Grabbing the top one, Cole yanked it free from the rest and dragged it out of the bag. Standing it up, the cup came to the top of his chest.

“Pyramid,” Jace said, going after a cup of his own.

The cups weren't too heavy. Cole compared it to toting an empty garbage can. Under one of the hutches, they turned two of the cups upside down beside each other, then set the third on top.

“This could work,” Mira said.

“Think we could make it if we go three high?” Jace asked.

Cole shook his head. “We still won't reach. It's going to take four levels. Won't be very stable.”

“We better hurry,” Mira prompted.

They ran back and forth two more times until they had nine cups, then Cole and Jace started arranging them while Mira went for the tenth. The first two rows were easy. After that, Jace had to stand on the bottom row to place the two cups on the third level.

Jace hopped down and rested a hand on the tenth cup. “I'll climb up to the second row,” he said. “Cole, you climb to the first and hand it up to me.”

The cups looked wobbly as Jace climbed, but they held. As Cole boosted himself onto the first row, he leaned into the cup too much. It tipped forward, and they all came down. Jace sprang clear, rolling when he hit the ground.

Ears burning with shame, Cole held his breath. The clatter of falling plastic cups had seemed loud, but hopefully the sound didn't carry inside the house.

Seconds passed. Cole watched the back door.

Nobody came.

“Smooth,” Jace said.

“Sorry,” Cole replied. “You okay?”

“Just terrific,” Jace replied shortly.

“Next time I'll help brace the cup you climb,” Mira whispered. “I should have thought to do it.”

Moving quickly, they rebuilt the pyramid up to three levels. Jace climbed onto the second row, and while Mira steadied the cup from the far side, Cole climbed onto the first. Mira came around and handed the tenth cup up to Cole, who carefully passed it up to Jace. Cole held still as Jace turned and placed the cup on top.

“Go up,” Mira told Jace. “You're the key person. You have to make the guess.”

“This isn't very steady,” Jace muttered, testing one of the cups on the third row. As he climbed onto it, Cole studied his technique. In a quick, controlled movement, Jace boosted himself into a sitting position. Then he slowly stood.

“Nice,” Mira said from below.

“Good thing it isn't windy,” Jace said, testing the top cup. He hopped up onto it, and it tipped sideways. Cole leaped clear as the cups crashed down. Jace landed on one, crushing it. Fortunately, the cup broke his fall.

It was only a moment before the back door opened and Mr. Barrum emerged, his ax in one hand. Wearing an undershirt and sweatpants, a toothpick poking from his lips, he looked grumpy and absolutely enormous.

Some childhood instinct awoke within Cole at the sight of him. Paralyzed, overwhelmed by a fear much greater than the threat this giant posed, he cringed in terror.

Mr. Barrum started toward the hutches, and his face scrunched up in anger. “Vermin!” he yelled in a harsh voice that Cole remembered all too well. “Get away from those rabbits.”

“We're leprechauns!” Cole cried desperately.

Mr. Barrum either didn't hear or didn't care. He came stomping over to them, his ax gripped in both hands, ready to swing.

Too late Cole realized that a smart person might have hidden inside a cup. He lay still while Jace ran one way, Mira the other. Mr. Barrum veered toward Mira. Jace had retreated under the hutches. By dashing out into the open, Mira had made herself the more obvious target.

Mira raced for the nearest cinder block. If she could climb inside the hollow part, it might offer temporary protection, but this mission was blown.

Cole jumped to his feet and drew the Jumping Sword. “Over here!” he screamed, waving the blade, hoping to distract Mr. Barrum from Mira.

Mr. Barrum didn't notice.

Taking big strides, Mr. Barrum caught up to Mira before she reached the cinder block. As the ax came whistling down, something crashed into Cole from behind and Jace yelled, “Honor!”