The Three Furies (Erec Rex) (21 page)

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That seemed like a backhanded compliment. Erec pointed the remote control at the Hermit's head and pushed the button. "Phero." The starfish spun atop his bald pate. The Hermit looked like he was wearing a propeller beanie hat. Erec laughed.

"Now you've got it."

The more he played with the remote control, the better he could identify the feeling of where the magic was coming from. Now he understood how others could reproduce this same feeling and do magic without one.

"Try it." As if the Hermit had read his mind, he grabbed Erec's remote away from him and crossed his arms.

Erec stared hard at the starfish and tried to make it spin up into the air. He could imagine the feeling he needed to pull out to make it work, but for some reason it would not budge.

"You need to use a motion. That will act as a gateway for your power."

Erec focused again, imagining the starfish rising, spinning. He pointed at it, tapping his finger in the air. The movement triggered a response deep inside him. A rush of power blasted through him along the same channel where the remote had pulled his magic from. He could feel it racing inside his body and leaving through his finger. The starfish shot into the air so fast that it hit the roof of the cave.

"Control now. Control. Finger magic takes practice."

Erec almost didn't hear what the Hermit said. He was so happy that he had created magic on his own, without a remote. It never seemed possible, but it had been so easy!

He pointed down at the sand and crooked a finger at it. A column whirled into the air like a mini sandstorm.
Control
, he told himself. He made the particles spin slower and then faster. The more he did it, the more natural it felt. "What else can I do? This is level-one magic, right?"

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The Hermit seemed bored. "Some people describe magic as being in levels. 'Level one is manipulating objects, level two is causing sensations, level three is flying, changing chemistry.' Putting magic into levels is a way to rate people, put them down when they can't do as much as someone else: 'You're a level one. You're a level three.'

"Magic should not be competitive. You will learn more going by feel, trying out new techniques as they hit you. Practice is your friend. Don't worry about levels."

Erec nodded, but the levels still sounded interesting. Could he start a fire? That was level-three magic, he was pretty sure. He concentrated and wiggled a finger. A flash of burning pain seared his finger, leaving a bright red mark on his skin. "Ow!" He blew on it and shook it in the air to cool it.

"That happens when you learn. It's okay." The Hermit touched Erec's finger and the pain disappeared.

"Thanks."

The Hermit tossed Erec's remote control back to him. "Spend the rest of the day practicing both with and without this to help you. You'll catch on fast. Tonight you can work on controlling your dreams again. Then tomorrow you will visit the Nightmare King."

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN A Final Birthday Party

REC SPENT THE day making sand crabs fly, sending stones crashing into each other, and levitating himself. He tried to make the Hermit feel like he was being tickled, but that didn't seem to work.

A thought occurred to him while he was practicing. Maybe now he had a better chance of rescuing Bethany. Learning magic had to have improved his chances. If he looked into his future

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now, through his dragon eyes, he might be able to see more. Maybe his vision wouldn't show him drowning in torrents of water. Instead he might see himself holding hands with Bethany somewhere safe, like his home in New Jersey.

Erec sat on the sand and let the waves wash over his bare feet. He closed his eyes. The sun shone warmly on his back. Confidence ran through him, and his spirits soared. He could do anything now.

First he imagined going into the small dark room deep inside his mind. It was inviting and peaceful. He pushed open the other door and went into the darker room inside the first one.

The table still held the warm box thrumming on top of it.

He found the warm silky cord and pulled it, opening the windows, and looked through them.

A
mountain crashed toward him, flecks flying as it sped closer.

I
t moved so fast that it almost looked solid until it was close enough to see the frothing foam and rushing waves.

W
ater raced toward him, towering over him like a tsunami.
I
n a second he was immersed, whipped around in gusts and torrents until he didn't know which way was up.
I
t was impossible to tell which way the surface was, but it was so far away he might never reach it before he ran out of breath.
H
e shot forward like a bullet along with the rushing waves.

Erec pulled the cord and shut the windows. This was not at all what he wanted to see. So this would be the end of him still? He would drown?

If that was the case, he would face that now. He pulled the cord again and watched what happened next.

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H
e crashed into the dirt at the bottom of the flood, then bounced up again into the never-ending deluge.
B
ig clumps of green and brown goo swirled around him, picked up by the rushing river.
H
e could not hold his breath any longer.
H
is head spun, and he choked.

H
e was so relieved, so excited.
I
t didn't matter if he inhaled the water and all the disgusting things in it.
H
e sputtered and coughed, limbs flailing wildly in an attempt to reach air.

T
hings were turning gray.
H
e needed oxygen. Just as he was about to pass out, something hit him hard on the head.
D
id he crash into a wall?
I
t looked like a door.
H
e burst through an opening and was thrown to the side of the flood.
W
ater sloshed around him, spreading out across the fields.

R
ight before everything turned black he gasped for air.

Erec closed the windows. Was that gasp really his own? He was pretty sure it was. He had felt himself take the breath. Would he survive, then?

He left the dark rooms in his mind and lay back onto the sand. Had he been
trying
to drown? He didn't think so. It wasn't like he jumped off a bridge into the middle of a lake. It seemed more like he was standing in the way of a tidal wave. But the tidal wave had been good, for some reason, even though it had knocked him out. So what was that supposed to mean?

This would be Erec's last chance to work on changing his dreams before meeting the Nightmare King. He hoped that he would

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learn enough to get him through whatever faced him there.

He put an odd assortment of items next to him on the hammock before he fell asleep.

Change your dreams. Change your dreams.

As his eyes drifted shut, he felt an awareness dawn within him. He would sleep, yet he would be watching.

Sand covered his toes, then rose to his knees. He was buried in quicksand. Every move he made pulled him in deeper. Then enormous waves rushed over him, freeing him from the sand. He tumbled in the water, banging against walls, confused. . . . But then a surfboard appeared in his hand. He pulled it straight into his dream, conscious that he was still dreaming. Up and up, he became king of the waves, riding them on his board with ease.

Bethany and Erec were prisoners together. An executioner appeared, ready to take one of them to their death. The other could live another month. Erec stood to go first . . . but then his hand grabbed hold of something. It was a remote control. It remained in another world, but his hand could still reach it. He commanded it to come to him. He pointed it at the executioner and pressed a button, and the man vanished in an explosion of light. Erec and Bethany walked away, hand in hand.

In the morning Erec felt tired, like he had been awake all night. In a sense he had. "I still don't know what the Fates meant about getting
most
of my quest done before saving Bethany. If I'm stuck in a nightmare world forever, how will I get anything done at all?" He thought a moment. "Well, they said I'd understand later. We'll see about that."

"Do you know what today is?" The Hermit's eyes twinkled.

"Yup. The day I meet King Augeas." A cold wave of fear washed over him. This might be his last day on Earth as he knew it.

"You're right. But today is a big day for another reason."

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Erec shrugged. Nothing else seemed important compared to what was coming. "I give up."

"It's your birthday. Happy birthday! Let's eat some cake before you go."

"My birthday?" For the first time in his life Erec had forgotten his own birthday. Celebrating it seemed like a luxury now, from another time. "It's April eighteenth already?"

"Yes, it is. Prince Erec is growing up." The Hermit spun the Serving Tray on a long finger until it sailed off and hit the cave wall. Chuckling, Erec asked the tray for a birthday cake, and one appeared complete with fourteen lit candles and HAPPY BIRTHDAY EREC beautifully inscribed in frosting.

The Hermit amused himself, singing a squeaky rendition: "Happy Birthday to you. You're smelling like poo. You think you're so big now, but you act like you're two."

"Ha, ha." Erec ate a huge slice of cake. It was light, with just the right amount of sweetness, tasting a bit like lemons and white chocolate. "I guess this is a good send-off."

"The best way to walk into a nightmare is with a smile." The Hermit stuffed nearly a whole slice of cake into his mouth at once.

A red dot in the sand grew until it became a swirl of color. "A snail!" Erec picked it up and pulled a letter out.

Dear Erec,

I had to tell you the news. Baskania is involved in something big. I mean huge.

He's been meeting with the Three Furies--Alecto, Tisiphone, and Megaera. They're the sisters of the Three Fates, and they're locked away in this place called Tartarus. I guess

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they're really powerful and dangerous. The only way that they can escape their prison is by capturing a thousand humans each and stealing their souls. But they can't get out to find any humans. And they're connected together, so they can escape only when there are enough souls for all three of them.

Baskania is working out a deal with them. He's bringing human captives to them in trade for their powers. They want the best and brightest. The more important the people that Baskania brings to them, the bigger his rewards. So he's already taken some government leaders from Upper Earth, and some sorcerers who've opposed him. He's given them the ex-president of the United Nations.

But the biggest news of all is that Baskania has captured the Clown Fairy. She is ancient and powerful, so it's really hard to hold her captive. I haven't heard where he's keeping her, but no normal jail could hold her. He's going to give her to the Furies in return for some big prize. The clowns in Otherness are in total chaos now. Their king and queen are dead--Baskania's assistants got rid of them ten years ago when they killed half the people in the Castle Alypium and put a spell on King Piter. But at least the clowns could function without their king and queen because the Clown Fairy was around. Now they're totally out of control and will probably all die. Baskania doesn't like them, so he doesn't even care.

I have to give Baskania credit. He has this whole thing planned out to a tee. He's going to give the Furies 2,999

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people, just one away from letting them all escape. Then he'll strike some bargain with them. He'll give them the last person only if the Furies agree to be his slaves when they get out.

The guy thinks big. I don't think he's that bright, though. The job he gave me is to advise him! Can you believe that? So he lets me in on all of his meetings--when he's here, which isn't all that often anymore. I hear everything. Like he doesn't realize I'm just going to report it all straight to you! And when he's gone I just have to hang around and tell him what I see.

Well, at least I'm getting paid, and have a roof over my head. And I stay far away from Rosco. My plans for him are getting clearer now. He'll pay.

Your friend,

Oscar

Erec's mind reeled at the thought of Baskania releasing the Furies on the world. And Rosco advising him--how strange was that? Something was fishy, and Erec had a bad feeling about it. He hoped Oscar kept his wits about him. But at least he would be alive . . . which is more than Erec had to look forward to, given where he was headed.

Erec trudged across the sand, feeling like a prisoner walking to his execution. He was following the Hermit back to the Port-O-Door.