The Candlestone (16 page)

The others came up beside him, and Walter leaned over Billy’s shoulder. “The door’s open a crack.”

Billy’s danger monitor sent him a warning signal, not real strong, but enough to give him an eerie sense that something wasn’t quite right. He shushed the others, then handed the flower box to the professor, whispering. “Mom left her gun in the plane, so you’d better take Excalibur. I can use my own weapon better anyway.”

The professor took the box but kept his arms extended toward Billy. “William,” he said in a near whisper, “the sword
is
your weapon now. It was bestowed to you as a gift from above. It was meant for you to wield in battle.”

Billy slid his shoe across one of the vacuum marks. “Maybe, but it would be better if we both had something to fight with. I can’t lend you my fire breathing.”

The professor bowed his head. “Nor can I lend you my faith.”

Billy bit his tongue. Had the professor noticed that the sword never glowed in his hands? Billy tried to shake off the thought and focus on the door. “Okay,” he said, still keeping his voice low. “I’m going in.”

“Be on your guard, William,” the professor warned. “An open door indicates an occupied room. An ambush is not out of the question.”

“Right,” Walter agreed, whispering. “Get your fire stoked, Billy. Turn the dial past ‘broil’ and go straight to ‘nuclear holocaust.’”

Billy glanced through the window to the left of the door. No one in sight. He pulled the door, and it creaked on its hinges until it swung about halfway open. The reception area lights shone brightly, allowing him to scan the anteroom for signs of danger. Licking his lips, he pushed his head inside and listened. Nothing. No sound, no movement, no sign of anyone in the office. He took two steps in and looked all around before gesturing for the others to follow.

A long, waist-high desk with a curved front faced the door. To the right of the desk, the anteroom opened into a sitting area, complete with a gray loveseat, a small table for magazines, and three single chairs covered with gingham upholstery. A painting of a lunging grizzly bear hung above the loveseat, making Billy wonder if he and his company might be someone’s unsuspecting prey.

To the left and behind the reception desk, offices lined a hallway that led to the back end of the suite. Another hallway at the rear wall passed behind a set of partitions out of Billy’s view. He heard faint sounds from the rear hall, clinking glass and running water.

“Someone’s back there,” Billy said, motioning with his head. “You guys wait here. It might just be a secretary or something.”

While the others took off their coats, Billy tiptoed down the hall, following the corridor to the right as it led him across the rear of the suite near the back exit. As he closed in on the source of the noise, he slowed down, each stride a furtive, silent step, his sense of danger growing.

Nearing a partially open door, Billy stretched out and pushed it fully open, then retreated behind a partition several feet down the hall.

An elderly lady poked her head out, an empty coffee pot jiggling in her hand. “Is someone out there?”

Billy blew out a long sigh. All this fear over a harmless little old lady! He stepped out from behind the partition and gave her a polite nod. “I’m sorry I startled you, ma’am. I’m here to see Dr. Conner. Is he available?”

The gray-haired lady, about a head shorter than Billy and wearing thick glasses, smiled. “Oh, no. He’s not here right now.” She walked back into the kitchen, still talking. “Let me get the coffee on, and I’ll be right out.”

When the lady disappeared, Billy called toward the front of the suite. “Come on around. There’s just a lady back here. I think it’s the receptionist.”

Walter showed up first, hustling around the corner. “Does she look like trouble? You never know about those clerical types. Their letter openers can be sharp!”

Though he still felt his danger meter throbbing, Billy shook his head. “Don’t be so paranoid. She seems friendly enough, kind of like an old librarian.”

“Well, I knew a librarian who threw an eraser fifty feet and hit me right between the eyes.”

“What made her mad? Were you burping at a hundred decibels?”

“Yeah. Maybe more.”

Billy peeked into the kitchen. “I don’t think she’s hiding an assault eraser, but she said she’d be right out.”

When his mother and the professor came around the corner, Billy turned to greet them, wiping his brow to show his relief. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his back, and the old lady’s voice returned, this time gruff and sour.

“You’re feeling the barrel of a three-fifty-seven magnum, Dragon Boy, and I know how to use it. Don’t give me one spark of that fire from hell or it’ll be pouring out your backside.”

Chapter 12

The Valley of the Shadow of Death

Ashley bent over a thick logbook, filling in the boxes with a sharp yellow pencil and whispering the data as she wrote. “Bonnie Silver—Age, fourteen years, one month. Height—five foot six. Weight—”
Hmmm. Never had a chance to weigh her. I’ll just guess one twenty.
She scratched the digits in the box and continued. “Blood type—A positive with dragon simplex allele and phototropic receptor 1.” She looked up from the book and listened. The lab had been dead quiet in the early morning hours, giving Ashley an opportunity to check her equipment. Now she could hear the faint morning bustle in the girls’ hall.

Ashley sniffed the air and detected a hint of bacon. Karen’s work. She’d planned to rise early and make breakfast, and Bonnie had volunteered to help, though she couldn’t have slept much the night before, not with the greatest adventure of her life ahead. Ashley hadn’t slept much herself, and she couldn’t eat. No way. Her stomach had twisted into a double knotted rope as doubts streamed into her mind. Would this work? The final step had never been accomplished. Pulling Bonnie’s mom out of the candlestone and restoring her body was only possible in theory. And now to try it, Ashley would risk Bonnie’s life. She would send her on a journey into a dark, mysterious oblivion that required her to trust a vastly complicated machine—a machine that a teenager had pieced together with her own hands.

Ashley let out a deep sigh, closed the book, and laid it on the console. Soon Bonnie would emerge from the girls’ dorm, using the key Ashley had left for her. Mere moments separated Bonnie from either a grand reunion with her mother or perhaps death or eternal imprisonment, tormented forever by the enemy of all dragons. Devin would be sure to transform the crystal prism into a living hell if given a chance.

Billy had to think fast. Surely he could jump away and overpower a little old lady before she could pull the trigger, couldn’t he? His belly felt like a world war raged within, an inferno ready to burst through. Just a quick turn, and this lady would be toast.

He leaped to the side and spun around, shooting a jet stream of yellow flames toward the woman’s hands, enveloping them in a rushing rage of fire. With a shriek, she fell backwards into the kitchen, firing a bullet into the ceiling and then rolling on the floor, cursing like a sailor’s parrot. The river of fire scorched the walls and carpet, and Billy fell back against the corridor’s wall, wincing and holding his hands over his cheeks. He had never breathed such a huge burst of blazing heat before.

The professor, still carrying the flower box, dashed past the others into the kitchen. He threw the box on the floor and dove for the writhing woman’s body, reaching for her thrashing hand. “William!” he shouted. “The gun is fused to her fingers. I can’t remove it.”

The woman spat at the professor and cursed. “Get off me you dragon lover! You friend of the devil! Let go of my hand so I can send you straight to hell!” With another loud cry, she fainted away. Walter rushed to the professor’s side and wrapped his fingers around the gun barrel. He tried to dump the bullets from the revolver’s wheel, but with the handle still attached to the woman’s hand, he couldn’t shake them out. While shifting his body around in the tiny room, Walter pushed the door closed with his feet.

Another door at the end of the hallway opened, and two men slunk into the corridor, one dressed completely in black.

“Billy!” his mother cried, running toward him. “Look out!”

The man in black jumped on Billy and wrapped a twisted piece of fibrous cloth around his mouth. The second man grabbed his arms and held them firmly behind his back. Brandishing a long serrated dagger, the first man shouted at Billy’s mother. “Don’t move, or the mongrel’s dead!” She froze in place, her eyes riveted on Billy and his captors.

With one hand the man in black held the gag in place, and with the other he pressed the blade against Billy’s throat. The cold sharp steel pricked his skin, drawing a trickle of blood that oozed toward his chest. The coarse gag smashed his lips against his teeth and ripped at his tender skin. He took a breath and tried to spew fire, but the flame rebounded as if hitting a thermal shield. The smell of his own blood caught in his nose. Intense heat parched his throat. He couldn’t breathe fire; he could barely breathe at all.

A click and a slow creak made Ashley twist her head. Bonnie stood with her back to the lab, apparently relocking the door, her enormous wings shielding most of her body. Ashley couldn’t help staring as Bonnie gracefully twirled toward the lab. In her white flowing robes, and with her peaceful radiant face, she looked like a storybook angel, her dragon wings set perfectly behind her shining, blonde-streaked hair. Her eyes danced, and if a smile could sing, Bonnie’s song would have melted the most cynical heart.

Ashley felt ragged, almost dirty in Bonnie’s presence, a blanket of shame falling on her like a smothering cloud of soot. Bonnie came closer and touched Ashley on the shoulder. “What’s wrong? Is your grandfather still getting worse?”

Ashley turned back to the console, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. “Yes. Doc called for a nurse to come in, but we’ll have to get him to a hospital soon if he doesn’t get any better.” She sniffed and gestured toward the boys’ dorm. “But I can’t worry about that right now. Your father will be leading Derrick out any minute.”

Bonnie laid Ashley’s keys on the control panel. “Leading him out?”

“Yes. There’s something I didn’t tell you about him. He’s—”

Ashley was interrupted by the sound of the boys’ hall door opening. Dr. Conner emerged, leading a short, thin black youth by the hand.

Bonnie whispered. “Is that Derrick?”

Ashley nodded. “Yes. He doesn’t look seventeen, does he?”

With unblinking eyes staring straight ahead, Derrick followed Dr. Conner’s lead.

“Is he blind?” Bonnie asked.

“Uh-huh. He got some kind of disease that killed his optic nerves. His parents died trying to get to Florida from Haiti on an overcrowded boat, but when it sank, he was rescued. The government worker on the case didn’t have the heart to ship him back. Your father got word and sent for him.”

Bonnie followed his progress, her mouth falling open. “Wow! How does he know what to do?”

“He’s very intelligent and brave. Ever since we first transluminated him, he keeps begging to do it again.” She turned to Bonnie, not caring any longer that her tears were evident. “When he’s transformed into light energy, he says he can see.”

“Come and meet him,” Ashley said, holding out her hand. “He’s very inspiring.”

The two walked over to the anchor dome, and Dr. Conner stepped toward the control panel, leaving Derrick with Ashley. “Derrick,” Ashley said, “I’d like for you to meet Bonnie, the girl I told you about.”

Derrick extended his hand and angled his head slightly away from Bonnie. “I’m very glad to meet you.” His sweet voice sounded like a song, decorated with a hint of a French accent.

Bonnie grabbed his hand and shook it firmly, and Derrick adjusted his head to point in her direction. “Is it permissible to touch your wings?”

Bonnie guided his hand to her right wing. He caressed the outer rib with his fingers for a moment and then pulled away. “May I have your hand again?” he asked.

Bonnie put her hand gently back into his. He gripped it firmly. “I will hold your hand again,” he said slowly, “and when I do, I will see your face.” He pulled back and felt his way to the anchor dome platform.

Ashley extended her arm toward one of the other glass cylinders. “Are you ready, Bonnie?”

Bonnie retied the sash on her robe, smiling and bouncing lightly on her toes. “All dressed and ready to go!”

Ashley surveyed Bonnie from top to bottom, halting her scan when she saw Bonnie’s ring. She reached for her arm. “I noticed your ring when we met. Is it an heirloom?”

Bonnie spread out her fingers in front of her face. “Not really, but a very good friend gave it to me. I never take it off.”

“Well, if you don’t want to lose it,” Ashley said, “you’d better give it to me. It’ll just fall to the floor when you get transluminated.”

Bonnie curled her other hand around her fingers. “Then could you just pick it up for me? I want to wear it until the last second.”

Ashley nodded with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Sure. No problem.”

Bonnie’s smile returned, and she began bouncing again. “Great. Let’s get going!”

Ashley glowered at Bonnie, hoping to communicate the gravity of the hour, the enormous risk that the next few moments would bring. Bonnie’s bouncy, in-place dance slowed, and her smile faded. In a way it pleased Ashley to see it. Maybe this immovable rock of faith was finally having doubts.

As Bonnie neared the diver’s position, she placed a hand on Ashley’s arm. “Don’t worry about me, Ashley. I won’t be alone.” With that, she stepped under the dome, and as the glass lowered, her serene face radiated perfect peace.

Billy bucked and twisted against his captors, but they clamped him down. His mother circled toward them, her knees flexed, obviously ready to spring to his aid at the first opportunity. Billy had no idea what the professor or Walter were doing behind that closed kitchen door. His captors might not even know they were inside. His mother held her position and kept her gaze fastened on him.

The second assailant bound Billy’s wrists behind him with duct tape while the man in black kept the knife against his throat. He pressed the blade deeper into Billy’s skin and barked at his partner. “Where’s Gretchen?”

Billy stiffened. He recognized the voice. The man in black was the dark knight, Palin. The second man spoke up. “I think she’s in the kitchen with the old man.”

“I’ll take the mongrel to Flathead,” Palin said. “Gather the others, take them to the gorge, and dispose of them. Make it quiet. Then get back here and clean up the mess.” Still holding the knife at Billy’s throat, Palin dragged him toward the door, speaking gruffly into his ear. “It’s early, so there shouldn’t be anyone around to see us, but if you try to attract attention, I’ll slice your throat like a ripe tomato. I’m pretty good with a blade. Remember, Dragon Boy?”

The second man drew a gun from his coat and pointed it at Billy’s mom. “Stay there!” he ordered. He then pushed the kitchen door open with his foot.

Suddenly, the man disappeared into the room, and Walter hurtled headfirst into the hall, sprawling onto the carpet. The door slammed behind him. Something banged against the door and muffled grunts erupted. A gunshot sounded, then another. Billy tried to slow Palin’s progress, dragging his heels against the carpet.
The professor! Did that guy kill him?

As Palin hauled him out of the office suite, Billy’s mother helped Walter to his feet, and a bright light flashed into the hallway from under the kitchen door. Billy craned his neck to see what would happen, but it was no use; the exit door swung shut. He heard his mother crying out his name. He wanted to answer, but the gag held firm. He wanted to break free and help the professor fight, but every second drew him farther and farther away from the scene of the battle, the painful knife preventing any sudden moves.
Had the professor used the sword? Did he transluminate everyone in the kitchen, including himself?

Without warning, Billy fell to the ground, and his head struck the carpeted floor with a thud. Palin’s body toppled over him, and the knife scraped his ear as it jerked away from his throat.

Billy struggled under Palin’s weight, trying to turn his head to see what was going on. His mother sprawled on Palin’s back, pounding him viciously, and Walter wrapped both arms around the dark knight’s legs. Palin flailed against his attackers and threw Billy’s mother to the side. He shook his legs, trying to dislodge Walter, but Walter hung on like a sticky mass of super glue.

Billy squirmed away and kicked Palin’s head, but his blow was weak. With his hands bound he couldn’t brace himself to really let him have it. His mother jumped up and took a step toward the jerking, squirming bodies, looking for a place to dive in. Palin, still clutching the jagged knife, raised his hand as if ready to strike. Billy tried to scream a warning to his rescuers, but the gag stifled his voice, turning his call into a loud grunt.

It was enough. Billy’s mother lunged at the dagger. Clasping Palin’s wrist with both hands, she pushed the blade away just before he could plunge it into Walter’s back. “Walter!” she called. “Let go! He’s got a knife!”

Walter scrambled to his feet and stomped at Palin’s clenched fist, but the dark knight held fast to his blade. Walter jumped to the other side and yanked Palin’s hair with one hand and gouged his eyes with the other. Billy swung his leg toward Palin’s head, hoping to deliver a knockout blow, but his foot glanced off his shoulder.

Palin grabbed Billy’s mother by the neck and threw her to the side again. He then slammed his arm into Walter’s face and jumped to his feet. With quick hands, he jerked Billy up by his hair and pressed the dagger against his throat. Palin glared at them, sweat and blood trickling from his face and dripping to the floor. He gasped for air. “Don’t . . . move . . . one muscle . . . or he’s dead!”

Billy’s two defenders froze while Palin caught his breath. “I don’t know what you did in there to my partner, but I don’t have the weapons to fight both of you right now.” He took another deep breath and stumbled toward the elevator.

The blade pressed mercilessly into Billy’s flesh, and he staggered along. His mother crept down the hall after him, her face a horrified mask. Walter slumped against the wall, his eyes swelling and a huge splotch of red growing on the left shoulder of his sweatshirt. Billy wanted to watch what would happen to his would-be rescuers, but the elevator doors slid closed like a curtain of despair.

When the elevator opened again, Billy shuffled through the empty hall, following Palin’s lead to the building’s exit. The dark knight towed him across the barren campus yard toward the parking lot and shoved him against a faded blue sedan. With the click of a button on his key fob, Palin popped open the trunk. He lowered the dagger from Billy’s neck and heaved him inside, slamming the trunk shut.