Falcon Quinn and the Black Mirror (16 page)

“Do you blame her?”

“No. Doesn't look too good for me, though.”

“It doesn't.”

They lay there in silence for a while. Then Falcon asked, “Hey, what happened with Sparkbolt and Willow today? Was there a fight or something?”

Jonny chuckled wickedly. “Old Willow, yeah. I took her down a couple pegs.”

“What do you mean?”

“Aw, she was messing with Sparkbolt again. She encourages him to write poems, you know? Then she tells him his
poems aren't any good. I mean, she oughtta praise him for writing
anything
instead of constantly telling him to revise and rewrite his work. You think it's easy, writing poems when you're sewn out of other people's guts? It's not.” As he said this, Jonny's voice grew louder and angrier.

“Jonny,” said Falcon, “do you think you really could, like, explode if you got too riled up? That's what they're worried about, I think. Some kind of—meltdown.”

“Yeah. They don't care if I blow up—they're just worried I'll take down one of their prize pupils instead, like those vampires, or the weredogs. I tell you what, it'd be worth it, just to get rid of Merideath or her little sidekicks. It would be
worth
it!”

“But…,” Falcon said, “that's not going to happen. Is it?”

The moon came out from behind a cloud, and a long, pale shaft of moonlight shone into the boys' bedroom in the Tower of Aberrations.

“I don't know,” said Jonny.

At this moment there was a roar from Lincoln's bunk, and the enormous werebear jumped onto the floor, looked around the room, grabbed a chair, and smashed it against the wall.

“Here we go again,” said Jonny.

Jonny turned on the light, and the bear looked at
Falcon, then Jonny, and roared again. He leaped toward them. All five hundred pounds of him grabbed the lamp and smashed this on the floor. Then he picked up Jonny, right out of his bed, and threw
him
against the wall.

“Ooompf,”
said Jonny.

“Hey, Lincoln,” said Falcon, “it's us. Your friends? Quit it! What's wrong with you?”

“You idiot,” said Jonny angrily, getting up on his feet. “I've had it with you! Had it!”

The bear roared at him, and Falcon, noticing that Jonny was beginning to glow, said, “Jonny. Hey. Temper.”

“You tell the bear to watch his temper. I'm not the one tearing the room apart.”

The werebear growled again, then turned toward the door and went bounding out into the parlor. There was the sound of more furniture being overturned, more things smashing and breaking on the floor, and then the clomp of Lincoln's paws descending the circular stairs down to the main floor of the castle. Jonny got back on his feet, rubbing his head where the bear had thrown him against the wall.

“Hey, Jonny,” said Falcon. “You all right?”

“Terrific,” said Jonny darkly. They walked out into the parlor, where another chair had been smashed, and a painting torn off the wall, and a table overturned. “Hey, he knocked my guitar over!” said Jonny. “He busted my E string!”

The door to the girls' room opened. “What is this infernal racket?” shouted Pearl.
“¡Ai!
The werebear! He is loose once more upon the world!”

Megan, still rubbing her eyes, came out of the room, followed by Destynee. “What's going on?” she said.

“Werebear's goin' on a little
field trip
,” said Jonny.

“Where is he?” said Destynee.

“He went downstairs,” said Falcon. “He's probably tearing up the castle.”

“We must retrieve this one,” said Pearl. “And bring him back to safety.”

“What do we care?” said Destynee. “Let him go. The teachers will get him.”

Jonny sighed. “No, no,
we
gotta go get him,” he said. “Before he hurts himself, the moron.”

“And we care,” said Destynee, “why?”

Jonny sighed. “Let's just say it's a good deed,” he said.

“If you're going,” said Megan, looking at Jonny, “I'm going.”

“I oughtta go too, then,” said Falcon, and blushed. “To look out for you, Megan.”

“Then I'm going too,” said Destynee, and blushed in exactly the same way.

“That's all good,” said Jonny, “but the one we really need is Pearl. That stinger might come in handy if we have to subdue a savage beast.”

“So it shall be,” said Pearl. “I shall lend my stinger to this quest. Together we shall embark upon this nocturnal adventure—”

“Guys,” said Megan.

“—of danger and desperation!” continued Pearl. “Together we five shall hunt this wild untamed bear, and return him to—”

“Guys,” said Megan again.

“What?” said Pearl.

She pointed to the floor. “Quimby,” she said.

There, on the floor, was Quimby's jar, shattered. The broken glass was surrounded by a viscous, steaming jelly.

Quimby's eyes were closed.

“Is he…?” said Destynee.

“No,” said Megan. “He's breathing. He's…I guess he's been knocked out?”

“Whoa, look at all the junk he's got in the jelly,” said Destynee. “He's like a total pack rat. I mean, uh, pack head.”

“Hey, look,” said Jonny, picking up something. “A ring of keys.”

“What do you think they open?” said Megan.

“Guess we'll find out,” said Jonny.

They looked at the head, lying there in its spilled jelly. There was a long rope around the bottom of Quimby's neck, fastened like a necktie.

As they watched, the head made a soft hissing sound. It pulsed, then slowly began to swell. The pieces of broken glass from the jar were pushed aside as the head grew larger.

Quimby's eyes opened, and he looked around. “Where am I? What's—?” Slowly he began to rise in the air, like a helium balloon.

“What's he doing?” said Jonny.

“He's inflating. And
rising.
”

“Grab the bottom of the rope!” said Pearl. “Grab it!”

“I'm freeee!” said Quimby. “I'm—”

What happened next happened very quickly. Quimby rose in the air, still hissing and swelling, and as he rose he began to drift across the room. They all saw the open window at the far side of the parlor at the same moment.

“Somebody grab his rope!” said Destynee.

But a breeze swept through the room, and in an instant, Quimby blew out the window. The young monsters rushed to the window, a second behind him, and saw Quimby drifting toward the eaves of the Tower of Souls. “Help,” shouted the head. “I'm blowing away!”

“Pearl,” said Jonny, “can you fly up there and get him?”

“I shall do this thing,” said Pearl. “I shall fly toward this drifting head, and bring him back to our tower! Away!” Pearl's wings buzzed, and she flew out the window in pursuit of Quimby.

The others watched as Pearl flew after the inflating
head, but even as they watched, he swelled still further. By the time Pearl reached him, Quimby was the size of a monster truck tire, and the Chupakabra's repeated, strenuous efforts could not haul him back to the Tower of Aberrations. They saw Pearl's wings buzzing back and forth, faster than ever, but Quimby just kept floating up and up, until at last he lodged underneath the hanging roof of the Tower of Souls. There was a clonking sound as Quimby's head bonked against the overhang.

“Ow!” he shouted. “Ow!”

“He's stuck underneath that slanting roof,” said Megan.

“Great,” said Falcon. “Now what?”

Pearl was tugging and tugging at Quimby's rope. The others stood at the window watching her struggle, but he was too much for her. After several minutes, Pearl came back to the window, exhausted.

“I cannot retrieve him,” said Pearl, humiliated. “I have been defeated.”

“But you pulled us,” said Megan. “On our first night here, you flew with both Falcon and me in your hands.”

“I do not understand it either,” said Pearl. “Except to say that this Quimby seems to levitate with a force of his own. I am no match for this force.”

“Help!” Quimby shouted. “Help!”

“We have to get him,” said Jonny. “We can't leave him stuck up there.”

“I thought you said we had to go get Lincoln Pugh back,” said Destynee.

“It is a busy night!” said Pearl. “Full of unexpected and irritating tasks!”

“We have to get up to the Tower of Souls,” said Megan, looking out the window. “If we can get up to the clock tower, we can probably reach him.”

“If I—
la Chupakabra
, the famous goatsucker of Peru—was not able to restrain this Quimby, how is it possible that this task might be performed by another?”

“I think I might be able to blow him back,” said Megan. “If I can get close enough to him. Using my wind powers.”

Jonny thought it over. “How about me, Pearl, and Destynee look for Linky? Pearl, we'll need your stinger if we find him. And Megan shouldn't go alone to the Tower of Souls. You can look out for Megan, okay, Falcon?” Jonny gave Falcon a brief, intense glance.

“Yeah, okay,” said Falcon.

“I want to go with
them
,” said Destynee.

“I need you with me and Pearl, Dez,” said Jonny. “In case you don't remember, that bear is big.”

Destynee sighed. “Okay,” she said. She didn't sound happy about it.

“Let us depart then, on this mission,” said Pearl. “To rescue the bear of night, and the head loosened from his imprisoning jelly. For this we fight!”

“Pearl,” said Destynee. “Is it possible for us ever to just, like, do something without making a big production out of it?”

“This is not the large production!” said Pearl. “For creatures such as ourselves, this is nothing! A production of no consequence!!”

“Can we just go?” said Destynee. “Please?”

“We ride forth!” said Pearl, and buzzed down the stairs. The others looked at her, then at each other, and followed the Chupakabra down the stairs and into the heart of the sleeping castle.

L
incoln Pugh's trail wasn't hard to follow. He'd gone down the narrow staircase from the Tower of Aberrations, tearing and clawing at the walls as he descended; broken down the door at the bottom; then proceeded to lay waste to the third-floor hallway of Castle Grisleigh. There was a line of overturned statuary, ripped-up wallpaper, and clawed furniture that led from the door for the tower and down the hall.

The third floor of the castle was a square area with an open center, bordered by a wooden railing. The grand staircase that began on the first floor ended here, and at each of the corners there was a doorway that led up to one of the four dormitory towers. Falcon and his companions walked clockwise around the floor, across the worn Oriental carpets. The door that led to the stairway for the Tower of Moonlight was at the first corner they came to. The next, diagonally across from their own tower, was for the Tower of Blood. Finally, three-quarters of the
way around from where they'd begun, was the door for the Tower of Science.

“But how do we get to the Tower of Souls?” said Falcon. “That's in the middle, between these other four, but there's no entrance. Not unless there's a trapdoor in the ceiling.” They all paused and looked up at the place where they knew the Tower of Souls began—above the center of the grand staircase, far overhead. There was a huge, ornate chandelier hanging down from the center of the ceiling, an enormous monstrosity covered with tiny hanging crystals and flickering candles. The whole thing was enshrouded with spiderwebs, some of which trailed, the threads broken, down into the center of the stairwell.

“I think I know where the entrance is,” said Megan.

“What?” said Pearl. “Why have you not spoken of this before? Surely this is the clue for which we seek!”

“Well, I'm not totally sure,” said Megan. “But downstairs, on the first floor? Just before you go into the classroom wing, there's a door that says
‘Tempus Fugit.'
I saw it when I was on my way to Shame class.”

“
Tempus
what?” said Destynee.

“Time flies?” said Jonny.

“I do not understand,” said Pearl.

“When we first got here—remember, Falcon? Mrs. Redflint said that the Tower of Souls was the domain of the clockmaster.”

“Yeah,” said Falcon.

“So if you were in charge of a clock,” said Megan, one of her sudden gusts making her flicker and billow translucently, “isn't the Latin for ‘Time Flies' the kind of thing you'd put on your door?”

The others thought this over. “Guess we'll find out,” said Falcon.

They'd gone three-quarters of the way around the third floor by now, following Lincoln's trail of damage. Now they stood together at the entrance to the Tower of Science, its door scratched and clawed. The walls leading upward into the tower bore the marks of the sharp claws of an infuriated werebear.

“He has ascended into the Tower of Science,” said Pearl. “Home of the Frankensteins and cyborgs, and other creations unknown!”

“Cyborgs? I haven't seen any cyborgs,” said Destynee.

“There's at least one cyborg I know about,” said Megan. “You know that girl with the alligator face? Snappy Crockbyte? She's a cyborg.”

“No way,” said Falcon. “Snappy's a robot? Seriously?”

“I have not seen these creatures in the cafeteria!” said Pearl.

“Yeah,” said Megan. “Because they don't eat?”

“Okay, so the three of us,” said Jonny. “Let's retrieve the werebear. Megan? Falcon? You got Quimby duty.”

“Okay,” said Megan. She looked at Falcon. “You ready?”

“You guys don't do anything stupid,” said Jonny with a smirk, and then he turned his back on them.

“Jonny…,” said Megan. But Jonny Frankenstein was gone. Falcon and Megan stood there in the hallway, listening to the steps of their three friends ascending the spiral stairs that led up into the Tower of Science. Their footsteps grew softer as they ascended, and then, after a second, grew inaudible. The castle suddenly seemed very quiet.

“I hope they're okay,” said Megan.

“Sure, they're okay,” said Falcon. “Anyway, there's no one up there but the Frankensteins. And the cyborgs. And a snarling werebear.”

“Right.” Megan flickered and billowed again. She looked down the main staircase. The lower stories of the castle looked very dark. “You ready?”

“Ready.”

They started down the stairs, their fingers trailing tentatively along the old wooden banister. Beneath Falcon's foot a step creaked loudly. Megan, who had just walked upon the same step without making a sound, looked at Falcon and whispered, “Sshh.”

“Sorry.”

The second floor was almost entirely dark. Another
board creaked beneath Falcon's foot. Megan turned to him and gave him a hard look. “Sorry,” he said again.

They were standing at the top of the flight that led down to the first floor now. It was almost as dark down there as it was on the second floor, although there was a candle glowing on a desk next to a large, dark lump.

“What's that?” said Falcon. They took a step down the stairs, and the candle began to flicker.

Megan pointed to the lump and silently mouthed something to Falcon, who said “Wha—” But she put one finger over his lips, and mouthed it again.

“It's Mr. Shale.”

Their Guidance teacher had his head down on a large desk near the entry to the castle, and as Falcon and Megan drew closer, they could hear him softly snoring. They were almost at the bottom of the stairs when the step beneath Falcon's foot groaned again, and Mr. Shale snorted and lifted his head off the desk. “Who's there?” he said, peering toward the staircase.
“Who's there!”

Falcon turned to look at Megan, but at the same moment she vanished. Mr. Shale squinted into the dim light. Falcon froze in place on the bottom step of the long staircase that wound upward into the dark heart of the castle. Mr. Shale reached forward and picked up the candle and held it high in the air, hoping to cast a little more light on the place where he sensed the intruder. But at this moment there was
a sudden gust of wind, and the candle flickered out.

“Dagnabbit,” said the grumpy creature. There were more sounds of creaking footsteps as Mr. Shale fumbled with a pack of safety matches. He got one lit, but there was, once more, a blast of wind, as if someone unseen was deliberately blowing the match out. He did this again, and again, and each time the match was extinguished. At last he got the candle lit, and he held it up again, trying to cast light on the entrance hall. “Who's there?” he growled. “Who's there?”

Falcon felt an invisible, wavering hand around his left wrist as he was pulled down the black hallway past Mr. Shale, past the entrance to the cafeteria, and into the long hallway for the academic wing. They were well down the hall, and around a sharp turn to the right, before Megan materialized again. She paused and leaned against the wall for a second, holding her head and breathing hard. Then, once more, Megan flickered out completely, leaving Falcon alone in the dark hallway.

“Uh-oh,” said Falcon. He stood still for what seemed like a long time, although it was probably only a few seconds. Megan reappeared with a sudden gust, blowing Falcon backward in the force of her gale.

“Are you okay?” said Falcon. She nodded, but she didn't look well. She flickered in and out again. “Seriously?”

Megan solidified once more and took a deep breath.
“Wheeew,” she said, and the air came out of her mouth like a howling winter wind. “I'm—all right,” she said. “I figured I better blow—that candle—out.” She listened. There was no sound of Mr. Shale.

“Are you really all right?” said Falcon. “You seem kind of—wavery.”

“It takes more and more out of me each time,” said Megan. “Going back and forth between—forms. But I'm all right. I just have to—focus.” Megan moved down the hall. “Let's get Quimby. The door I saw is right up here.”

They scurried down the hallway in the direction of the classrooms.

“Here's the door,” said Megan, and there it was: a small hatch marked
TEMPUS FUGIT
.

Falcon tried the handle. “It's locked,” he said, and sighed. “Of course it's locked.”

“Fortunately,” said Megan, pulling the ring of Quimby's keys out of her pocket, “we have these.”

“Fortunately,” said Falcon, in a voice that made clear that he was far from certain whether their having the keys was fortunate or not. Megan put one of Quimby's keys into the lock, and it immediately turned with a sharp click. The door swung open. There was a narrow, twisting staircase before them. Torches flickered along the walls.

“I have another question,” said Falcon. “If there's a clockmaster who, like, works the clock or something? You
don't think he's—up there now, do you?”

Megan, who had already started up the stairs, turned back to Falcon with a strangely excited grin. “Guess we'll find out.” Then she turned and began to ascend the stairs into the Tower of Souls.

Falcon followed behind her, wondering what had gotten into Megan. She had always seemed shy and morose back in Maine. Now she was leading him into a dark tower toward what might well turn out to be danger. It occurred to him that perhaps he didn't know Megan as well as he thought. Either that or the girl he had known had now begun to change into something he did not understand.

The stairs spiraled clockwise for what seemed like a long time, then emerged at the end of a long, straight, stone tunnel that led back toward the main mass of the castle. Falcon reached out and touched the walls as they hurried down the tunnel; the old stone felt smooth and cold against his fingertips. Small torches flickered on the walls. As Megan passed, the flames wavered.

After several minutes the tunnel suddenly opened into an enormous square chamber. Above them rose an immense, hollow tower with a narrow set of stone stairs orbiting the wall and leading toward the impossibly distant castle keep overhead. This chamber, too, was lit by flaming torches set into the walls along the stone stairs. And all around them echoed the loud ticking of
the clockworks in the tower.

“The Tower of Souls,” Megan said, flickering in and out. “It's awesome!” She stared upward at the complicated stonework, at the light from the torches shimmering on the massive granite blocks. Her face was illuminated with wonder and awe. Falcon looked at her as she gazed upward. Then she looked at him. “What?” she said.

“Nothing,” said Falcon. “You're different.”

“No, I'm not,” said Megan. “Don't say that.”

They climbed up the winding stairs, the floor below them growing distant. Falcon remembered seeing the apex of the tower when he'd first arrived here—how impossibly high and disturbing it had looked from the ground. On a crossbeam Falcon saw a row of a hundred black knobs hanging down, and only as he drew near did he realize that some of the knobs had eyes and were moving. It was a long slithery line of vampire bats.

Megan turned around and looked at Falcon for a second. “What
are
you, Falcon?” she said.

“What am I? You mean—”

“What kind of monster?”

“I—I don't know.”

“I don't believe you,” said Megan. “I think you know, but you won't say.”

Falcon didn't know how to respond. He
did
want to tell Megan about his twin hearts, but he was afraid of
what she'd think. People always told you that it was best to tell the truth, but Falcon wasn't sure. Sometimes it seemed as if it was easier to protect people with silence instead of truth.

“It can't be worse than giant slug,” said Megan. “Can it?”

“Maybe,” said Falcon.

Megan's form blew back in a sudden gust; then she solidified once more. “Falcon,” said Megan. “You can tell me.”

He imagined the words.
I'm part monster, although they don't know what kind. And I'm part guardian, a being whose mission it is to destroy creatures like you.
As he heard these words in his mind, he felt his eye begin to burn.

“I can't,” whispered Falcon. “I can't.”

Megan sighed. “Fine,” she said, in a voice that sounded hurt. Now there was a set of iron stairs that twisted left, then right, into the tower above. The sound of ticking was much louder now. There was also another sound, like an electrical hum and a steady grinding of gears.

Megan started up the staircase, and Falcon followed. Their footsteps rang on the iron grates of the stairs. Falcon felt his hearts pounding from all this climbing. He watched Megan's back as the girl moved upward and away from him. For a moment he looked down. They were so high up
now that the base of the tower was impossibly far away.

Megan turned back to Falcon suddenly, spinning on her left foot. She looked at him uncertainly.

The sound of the ticking clock pounded in his ears. “What?” said Falcon.

“If you won't tell me what the story is with you, will you at least tell me what's up with Jonny?”

“What do you mean?”

“You're the only one he really talks to,” said Megan. “Is he all right? He seems—I don't know. Like he's hiding something.”

“He's,” said Falcon, but he caught himself. “I can't say.”

“Why not?”

“It's not my secret. It's for him to tell, not me.”

“Why don't you trust me?” said Megan. “I just want to help.”

“I know,” said Falcon.

“If anything happened to Jonny…,” said Megan, “I'd—”

She vanished completely again. Falcon waited for her to come back. This time it took longer than ever. Falcon stood there in the Tower of Souls, listening to the ticking of the clock, sadly observing once again that it was Jonny Frankenstein that Megan was worried about, not himself.