Conjuring Cupcakes, page 5
His only answer was a short shaking of his head. She threw up her hands, exasperation on her face and turned to me.
“Do you have a plan, Charlotte?”
I mentally frowned. She was the one who wanted to come along, so I don't see why you're complaining now…
“I don’t, but hopefully Pearl isn’t leading us astray,” I said, looking past her at my cat, who was getting farther away with every second and would soon disappear among the trees if we didn’t catch up. “Let’s go,” I continued, walking past Rachel. Detective Grey followed, falling in step with me, and I heard a huff from behind us and then footsteps.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Rachel called out. I looked over my shoulder at her.
“I have no idea, but let’s just stick close behind Pearl and hope for the best.” The last few words came out as a question instead of a reassuring statement, and it was obvious even I didn’t know what I was doing. No one called me out on it though, and we spent some time trudging through the forest in silence.
It was more of a silence on the part of our group than actual silence. The sounds of nature filled the air: birds chirping and calling out to each other from above us, the rustle of leaves and grass as some small creature darted past, the rustle of the foliage high above our heads. It was beautiful too, green everywhere. I turned my head and the many small rays of sunlight that pierced through the dense foliage lit up our paths. I would have enjoyed it more if I wasn’t worrying about how we would get out of there and where exactly the dark stone was.
Suddenly Pearl stopped in front of a tree and looked up, meowing and pawing at the trunk. Detective Grey and I looked at each other, then walked up to the tree and looked up too.
“What is it?” Rachel said, panting at the end of her sentence after catching up to us as quickly as she could. “What are we looking at?”
She didn’t get any answer, even though she was standing right behind us. There was a small, irritated huff and I heard her step forward, leaning her shoulder against mine as she too, looked up.
“Oh.”
Above us, looking down at us with an equally curious face - albeit with some malice in it - was a monkey.
The fact that we’d seen a monkey in a forest wasn’t the real issue, though. It was more concerning that this monkey wore a dirty, ratty shirt, with the sleeves cut off at the arms and unbuttoned, with most of the lower half of the shirt missing.
Then the monkey spoke to us, scratching its neck and giving us all a nasty look.
“Never seen a monkey before?”
“Err—”
He didn’t let Rachel finish. “Are you coming up or not? I’m the only one here who knows where to go next.”
We dropped our faces down to eye level and glanced at each other, our faces speaking for us. Rachel looked confused, probably wondering why we could hear the monkey too. Detective Grey looked irritated and resigned, as if he already knew what my answer would be, but didn’t want to have to deal with the annoying monkey.
And me? I don’t know what I looked like, but I knew what I felt—pure hope. I looked up at the monkey again. It looked bored, and was fiddling with a small hole in its shirt. When it ended up creating a bigger hole it grimaced and looked back at us, letting go of the shirt once it caught me looking.
“Well, are you coming? I don’t have all day, you know.”
*** ***
His name was Bobo, he told us later, after we’d managed to climb up into the branches of the tree and Pearl had nearly clawed his eyes out for laughing when I slipped and nearly fell out of the tree as I climbed up. The branches on this particular tree were thick and sturdy, and to my surprise I found myself getting very comfortable a few minutes after I first sat down.
We sat in a circle around Bobo, at his insistence: Rachel was on his left, and to my right, I sat across from him, and Detective Grey was on the other side. Pearl was curled up in my lap, enjoying being petted as I nervously scratched her ear, hoping for the best.
"What'dya got to eat?"
I sat and stared at Detective Grey. What did we have to eat, and, did we have enough to share?
Bobo refused to say anything until he got something to eat, so we sat in silence while I glanced at the others. Monkeys don't eat cats right?…
I had no idea what Detective Grey was thinking, but I wondered what we could give our host. I didn’t have anything that I thought a monkey could reasonably eat – were monkeys able to tolerate trail mix, even though they were omnivores?
I pulled it out of my backpack anyway, lifting it up for him to see.
“Bobo?” I said hesitantly. “This is trail mix. It’s a combination of dried—”
“No, no, he doesn’t want that,” Rachel said, waving her hand dismissively. She zipped her bag open and pulled out a bunch of bananas, handing them to the monkey.
“Monkeys prefer bananas, don’t they?”
Bobo’s lips stretched back into an approximation of a smile, only this was creepier and looked like he wanted to bite us. He reached out for the bananas, swinging his forearm to the right in a strange motion, and brought his forearm back to—
To smack the bunch of bananas out of Rachel’s hands and onto the ground. We watched, stunned as the bananas flew in a large curve through the air and fell with a sad thump in the soil some distance from the tree. Then we looked back up at the monkey, whose face was now full of rage.
“I can’t eat bananas! Don’t you know that?”
I wanted to mention that there was no way we could have known that but decided it was better to let the monkey rant. I didn’t want his anger turned towards me—who knows if he would push me out of the tree or something?
Bobo went on a whole rant about how some witch had cursed him with being unable to eat bananas for the rest of his life after he’d stolen and eaten all the bananas on her little plantation. I felt sorry for him, but most of my pity quickly died when the rant went on and on. Rachel looked more annoyed than I did, glancing mournfully at her bananas which had already shrunk in number since the bunch had been taken from by various animals over the course of Bobo’s rant.
Finally, he ran out of steam and his face settled into a mask of calm.
“Give me this… trail meat,” he said, after a long and uncomfortable silence in which he just stared at us, and we tried not to break his gaze.
“Trail mix,” I corrected, using the gentlest tone I could but still afraid it would set him off. Fortunately for me it didn’t, so despite the disgust I felt watching Bobo tear through the pack and stuff everything into his mouth, I watched patiently until he was ready to address us.
Finally, when he’d stuffed the rest of the food into his mouth, he wiped his mouth roughly and sneered at us.
“Not as good as bananas. What do you want to know?”
I opened my mouth and closed it again. I wasn’t ready for the question. What do I want to know?
Detective Grey came to my rescue. “We’d like to know how to get out of here—we’re looking for the Dark Stone, and if you have any information about the poison that killed our friend, we’d be very grateful.”
Bobo snorted. “Hmm. The Dark Stone. Boring.” His eyes lit up again. “That poison, however—describe it.”
Detective Grey and I exchanged a look. I took the lead this time, explaining exactly what had happened when Diana took the poison-laced tea. Bobo nodded at my explanations, and when I was done he clapped his hands together in glee.
“This is more like it! Something that actually interests me. I know what it is—but I’m not telling you until you solve my test.”
I straightened up in anticipation of the answer, but quickly deflated again when he mentioned a puzzle. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Things never were around here.
I sighed. “What is your puzzle?”
He grinned at me, but I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to reassure me or be malicious. It certainly looked like he was threatening me.
“Don’t look so glum—I promise it’s not that hard.”
So you say.
“All you have to do is climb down, and go west for a bit until you reach a clearing with a large stone in the center. There’s a puzzle carved into it. Solve it, and come back.”
We looked at each other. Was it really that easy?
“I don’t have all day, you know,” Bobo said again, and we scurried out of the tree.
Finding the clearing wasn’t hard, thanks to Detective Grey’s handy compass. The puzzle was ridiculously easy too, and I felt a little cheated as we headed back to Bobo’s tree. The monkey seemed smart, so why didn’t he just solve it himself?
I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth though, so I didn’t ask any of the other questions running through my mind when we made it back to him. Instead, I repeated the questions we’d already asked.
He grew animated at the mention of the poison, but Rachel urged him to tell us about the Dark Stone first. He shot an irritated look at her but answered.
“You’ll find it eventually. Just keep on going the way you’ve been going.”
Rachel muttered that he wasn’t very helpful and nearly fell out of the tree from the look he gave her. Then he turned to me.
“The poison you’ve told me about is a rare one, heh heh, never thought I’d actually hear about it. I’d thought it was a myth, but it is real,” he said with some wonder.
I was growing impatient, but I reined in my irritation and asked politely, “Do you know what it’s called?”
He snickered. “Do I? Of course I do! Who could forget something like that, with a weird name like that? It’s called Xenovex. Strange name, that.”
And with that, he jumped into the closest tree and left us to our own thoughts.
8
Lancelot
It was a relief to step out of the humid heat of the forest, but it was even more of a relief to be away from Bobo and his disdainful malice. He hadn’t done anything to us, to be fair, but I couldn’t help feeling that there was something darker lurking behind the monkey’s face. We probably won't have to do much to trigger whatever it was.
Even Rachel heaved a sigh as we stepped into another strange place and the door vanished behind us.
I was just glad that encounter was over, and that we’d gotten something out of it. We were nowhere closer to the Dark Stone than we’d been after we’d stepped into the maze, but at least we knew what Diana had been poisoned with now.
Xenovex.
It didn’t sound like something that had existed for centuries, more like a laboratory-manufactured compound. Maybe that was just the modern name, and the actual name had been lost in time. Who knew? Either way, it was a start.
I took in our new setting. We were in a corridor of stone this time, in what seemed to be an old castle. We had come out of a door in the wall, which had vanished into the stone after we were all through to the other side. Opposite the wall was a rectangular window, with no glass in it or curtains over it, and quickly we went to it and looked out.
There was a large yard, if I could call it that, below us, and high stone walls with towers on the left and right surrounded the yard. There was no exit or entrance in this yard, but I had a feeling if we went out and followed the walls to their natural meeting point we would find a gate, and quite possibly, a moat and a drawbridge. Beyond the walls it was all green – green fields, a green hill rising in the distance, a forest beyond the left tower. The sun shone down on the yard, and everything was still and quiet.
It was a nice type of quiet, which was soon broken by Rachel.
“Where are we?” she asked, childlike wonder in her tone, placing her hands on the edge of the window and leaning into the window, looking around with wide eyes. Detective Grey frowned at her and pulled her back by the arm.
“Careful,” he muttered, distracted by the sight too. “You’ll fall out.”
Rachel scoffed, taking her arm out of his grasp gently. “I’ll be fine.” She didn’t go back to leaning out of the window though, content to just look out. “Where are we anyway? What do you guys think?”
I shrugged, looking away from the window and at the corridor around us. The walls were bare except for the metal sconces hanging off the walls at intervals all throughout the corridor, as far as I could see. “If I had to guess,” I said, turning back to her, “I’d say we were in the medieval era. Or a period when there were still castles. I’m not a history expert, so I can’t really say...”
Just then, Diana’s ghost floated out of the wall beside us and pointed down the corridor, where Pearl was looking.
She’s come to help again?
We followed her finger with our gazes, but after a few moments of seeing and hearing nothing, I looked at her, confused. It was frustrating that I couldn’t communicate with her—I was so sure there would be a lot she could tell me that would be helpful.
Since she couldn’t say anything, we just stuck with the tried and tested method of communication for people who couldn’t speak to each other: asking her questions that she answered in charades.
“Did you see someone coming?” I asked. Diana shook her head.
Detective Grey went next. “Is there someone around here we need to see?”
She nodded frantically. I was a little surprised, but when I thought about it, how else would we get to where we wanted to go? We’d already seen that this maze wasn’t the regular maze, so it shouldn’t have been surprising.
Detective Grey cocked his head back an inch as if he was surprised at the answer too. Then he nodded and asked another question.
“Is this person the only one in this place?”
Diana nodded, and we all relaxed. Speaking to one person who was probably going to test us was already nerve-wracking. We didn’t need the additional challenge of dealing with other people who might not be helpful and might try to hinder us.
“Is the person in that direction?” Rachel asked, pointing in the direction Diana had shown us only a few minutes before. Diana nodded. We glanced at each other.
“I guess we know what to do next,” Rachel said, pushing off the wall she’d been leaning against. In sync we all turned and walked down the corridor, Pearl coming to walk next to my feet as Diana floated ahead of us.
“I wonder what the test will be this time,” Rachel spoke up again just as we got to the end of the corridor. It turned sharply to the right, where a large wooden door stood in a short recess. Diana floated through the door seconds before Detective Grey moved forward to open the door.
“Diana? Where are you going?” I called out. I felt silly after doing it, but I couldn’t help worrying. She might have been incorporeal at the moment, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t be hurt.
She poked her head out of the door and nodded at me, then disappeared again as Detective Grey opened the door. There she was, on the other side, waiting for us. I looked away from the mirth on her face and inspected our new environment. We were stepping into a large room that spanned almost the distance we’d walked to get here, both in how wide and how long it was.
I didn’t get the chance to fully admire the deep red tapestries that decorated all four walls though, because in the center of the room stood a man in a suit of armor.
His sword was in his hands, the tip of it pushed into the stone floor. He looked very much like he was wearing an actual suit of armor, and the only reason we could tell there was someone behind all that metal was because his visor was up and we could see his steely gray eyes glaring at us.
“You three are dressed strangely,” he said, and somehow I could understand him, even though he was most definitely not speaking modern English. “Especially the women. Are you from the Order of Oscuros?”
Rachel shook her head frantically, and Detective Grey frowned. I hesitated, however—the word Oscuros sounded familiar for some reason as if I’d heard it before, and his sharp eyes caught the brief moment of hesitation.
“You are one of them?” he asked, his eyes getting darker as he lifted his sword and pointed it at me. Detective Grey pulled me to the side, out of the line of fire, but the sword just pivoted to face me.
“Speak!”
I shook my head just like Rachel had done, but there was fear behind my actions.
“I don’t know who this ‘Order of Oscuros’ is! I swear—it just sounded familiar to me like I’ve heard it before.”
He left his sword pointed at me for a few more seconds, and I was starting to think about running before he dropped it again. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, but he wasn’t done with us.
“If you are not with them, then why are you here?” he demanded.
Detective Grey stepped forward. “We’re looking for the Dark Stone. The maze led us here.”
The knight’s grip tightened around the handle of his sword, and he stared off into the distance.
“The Dark Stone. Yes, I remember something of that nature. But why should I help you?”
He stared at us with his piercing gaze, as if daring one of us to say something. Rachel took the challenge, stepping forward and nodding at him.
“A knight such as yourself follows the rules of chivalry closely. Isn’t one of the rules to help whoever’s in need?” she asked.
He snorted.
“The code of chivalry does not use those words, but the intent is the same. Fine, I will listen to your story and then judge for myself if you are worthy of my knowledge. What are your names, and where are you from?”
We each gave him a brief history of our lives over the next twenty or thirty minutes, and I learned things about my companions that I couldn’t have imagined. For instance, that Detective Grey used to be quite the troublemaker in school, or that the first animal Rachel spoke to was a snail in her mother’s garden.
“That is quite enough of that,” the knight said at last, holding up a gauntleted hand. “Now I will tell you about myself. I am Sir Lancelot, and I am very much pleased to make your acquaintance.”
