Scarlet and the Keepers of Light (21 page)

25

Monsters in the Capitol

It was strange for Scarlet to see what had once been so familiar be so foreign to her. It was as if the entire world had been abandoned. Forsaken houses, all in the same wild state, overrun with trees and vines, were everywhere. Cars sat unattended in driveways and streets. They saw no sign of anyone, friend or foe. All of northern Virginia had become a ghost town, and it looked as if it had been that way for many, many years.

They walked along the interstate because it seemed the quickest and simplest way to get into DC. Scarlet wished she knew how to drive. Most of the cars they saw along the interstate still had keys in them, and taking them would have shortened their trip considerably. She thought about asking Brennan to try, but he was so disoriented by everything around him that she was sure that even trying to explain to him how to drive a car would be impossible.

It was dusk before they could see the first hints of the Washington skyline. The Washington Monument still stood tall against the fading gray sky. Night brought new sounds to the stillness of the day, as strange creatures awoke with the coming night. The unmistakable growls of the tiranthropes were present, but so were other sounds that were just as alarming, perhaps more so because they were unknown.

“The creatures the prince has let loose on this world are obviously either drawn to the darkness or can only survive within it,” Dakota said, looking out across the abandoned capital. “We’re not safe out in the dark.”

“Well, between Scarlet and me, we could take care of some of that,” Delfi said bravely.

“No, I don’t want us to draw attention to ourselves if we don’t have to. There’s no way to know how many are out there.”

“How far is it to this library?” Brennan asked.

Scarlet looked at the map she had taken from one of the books. She traced the roads between where they were and the Library of Congress. “If we head to the Washington Monument—sorry, that tall tower there—then we can just walk straight to the Capitol Building. The library is behind it.”

Delfi looked over Scarlet’s shoulder at the map. “It doesn’t look too far,” he said. “As running through the open in the dark with monstrous creatures lurking everywhere goes, that is.”

Dakota did not look amused. The sounds were growing louder. “Let’s get a move on.”

They began to run toward the Washington Monument. Although they reached it without any problem, the sense that danger was coming ever nearer increased with every step. The distance up the Mall to the Capitol in the distance seemed much longer than it should have. The sun had disappeared completely, leaving a vast starry night above and a silvery glow across the lawn below. The moon was full and bright, and with no artificial light to mask the grandeur of the night sky, the scene over the city was one Scarlet could have only hoped to view in a planetarium. If it hadn’t been for the deep apprehension and genuine fear of death, Scarlet would have been mesmerized by the beauty of it all.

“We’re going to just have to make a run for it,” Brennan said, after waiting for them to catch their breath. It was not a plan that instilled a high degree of confidence, but no one had a better one to offer.

“Brennan, you stay at the back, and I’ll take the front.” Dakota peered intently over the open ground. “Delfi, Scarlet, you two stay between us. If we get attacked, Brennan and I will try to hold whatever it is off you while you two make for the library. If you get attacked again, defend yourselves, but be careful not to use up all your energy. You’ll still need to get to safety even if you’re able to get rid of whatever it is. Then head for the nearest building, whichever one of these it ends up being,” he added, motioning to the Smithsonian museums that flanked the Mall.

The group nodded their understanding and, Dakota in the lead, took off across the lawns. Legs burning, lungs cramping, they reached the middle of the Mall without incident, and even Dakota was beginning to feel like they would make it to the library without an altercation. The feeling would not last.

Dakota stopped suddenly, his sharp canine eyes the first to see them; only as Scarlet, Delfi, and Brennan came to a halt did they too see what blocked their path. Five Mortada stood in a line between them and the Capitol. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere. One second Dakota had been staring at a clear path to the large white structure in the distance, and the next, the Mortada had materialized there.

Dakota bristled and growled. He could face a few Mortada, but five was more than he could possibly handle, and Scarlet was not yet ready to face magic as dark as theirs. They would sucker her into expending every last bit of energy she had, until there was nothing left but death. His only glimmer of hope was the remote stories he had heard o
f the Satorians; maybe, just maybe, Brennan could pick up where Dakota’s strength failed. Even though he knew that if he hadn’t changed, he never would have been able to get to Scarlet, Dakota silently cursed the weakness of his new form
.

All Dakota’s thoughts, plans, and regrets would prove pointless, though. The Mortada let out a maniacal laugh, raised their arms as one, and then, bringing them down, turned the clear sky into a dense dark haze. An impenetrable black fog descended upon the group, and before any of them could act, Scarlet, Delfi, and Dakota fell silently to the ground.

Brennan struggled to see through the nearly opaque mist. He felt the now-familiar pull on his senses, his muscles and skin—an intense desire to obey, to lie down and go to sleep. He resisted the best he could, and soon the feeling passed, replaced by the rage and indignation he always felt after a Mortada tried to compel him against his will. He could just make out the outlines of Scarlet, Delfi, and Dakota lying on the ground in front of him, although he didn’t know whether they were alive or dead. They had not been able to resist the powerful magic cast by all five of the Mortada.

The Mortada had been warned of Brennan, and as a result they kept their distance. Although immensely powerful, without magic they were no more or less than any other man. Brennan, on the other hand, was not an average man, and against him, without magic, they would have little more power than children in a fight. Instead they had debilitated those who could use magic; now they only need wait for the tiranthropes to come and finish the job. Brennan could already hear the terrible cries of the beasts in the distance, closer with each passing moment.

Brennan struggled to figure out what to do, his mind racing; once the tiranthropes arrived, all hope was gone. One of the creatures was really more than Brennan could handle; any more than that was not to be contemplated. By the sound of it, many more than one were headed his way. There was only one thing to do. He would have to carry Scarlet, Delfi, and Dakota to safety.

This wouldn’t be easy. Dakota, small as he might be for a Stidolph, still had to weigh close to two hundred pounds. Scarlet was small enough, but Delfi was a healthy young man and surely weighed over a hundred pounds. Each second wasted decreased their chances of survival exponentially. He had no time to agonize over what he’d have to do; he’d just have to get on with it.

Lifting Dakota by the legs, he slung the great dog over his shoulders and around his neck. He gathered Delfi and Scarlet up in his muscular arms, cradling them like babies, one on each side, and trudged forward. He could feel the extra weight on his legs instantly, and for a moment he considered turning back. He would never reach the library in time.

To make matters worse, the fog was more than just vapor; it had a density that fought against Brennan’s every step. It was like walking underwater, each footfall a tremendous ordeal. His muscles burned, screaming at him to stop, to put down the weight, but he continued to move, one carefully placed step at a time. Behind him the tiranthropes drew nearer and nearer.

By the time he’d made it almost to the paved road in front of the Capitol, his legs were in agony. He wobbled slightly, almost dropping Scarlet and Delfi. If he could just get out of the fog, then maybe they would wake up and help. The tiranthropes had entered the Mall. They were close—very close. The fog seemed to extend all the way to the building.

Another minute passed. Brennan’s mind was numb except for one thought . . .
Keep moving.
One step. Another. He reached the steps, steps that might as well have been a mountain, and began to climb. Suddenly a sharp, slashing pain sliced across his back, and he fell to his knees, doing his best to set Delfi and Scarlet down as easily as he could. He had been so focused on the stairs, he had not heard the tiranthrope behind him. Hefting Dakota off his shoulders, he whirled to face the monster behind him. The fog had grown so thick it was hard to make out anything.

A flash, and Brennan slumped down again, a searing pain throbbing across his chest. He couldn’t see where the tiranthrope had gone, it moved so quickly. It seemed to have none of Brennan’s difficulty in the haze. Stumbling to his feet, Brennan searched the darkness for his opponent. The tiranthrope attacked again, this time from behind, slashing the back of Brennan’s right leg, which buckled underneath him.

He was going to die, and after that, so would Scarlet and her friends.

Warmth began to rise in the pit of Brennan’s stomach, and he welcomed it like a friend he hadn’t seen in a very long time. The Tempest started to radiate outward, first to his bones, then his muscles, and finally to the very tips of his fingers and toes. His sight sharpened, and shapes began to appear through the darkness. The pain in his chest, back, and leg disappeared. Brennan got to his feet once again. He could hear the tiranthrope approaching.

Brennan spun on the tiranthrope as it attacked, grabbing its wrists as the daggerlike claws slashed out at him. Pivoting on his heel, he flung the beast, all four hundred pounds of it, far into the distance. Not waiting to hear it hit the ground, he hefted Dakota back onto his shoulders and scooped Scarlet and Delfi back up in his arms. With the Tempest raging through him, they seemed almost weightless, and Brennan took off at a full run, into the entrance of the Capitol, through the building, and out the other side. Seeing the Library of Congress just a short distance away, he made a break for it.

As he bounded up the steps to the library, he emerged from the fog; it did not rise as far as the main entrance. The large doors to the entrance had been barred from the inside. Brennan set down Delfi, Scarlet, and Dakota, who had begun to stir. With one mighty heave, he ripped the door off its hinges and kicked aside the desks and shelves that blocked his way inside. Grabbing Delfi and Scarlet, one in each hand, he heaved them inside, then did the same for Dakota.

They had made it, but Brennan did not feel safe just yet. He grabbed the door he had ripped away and took it inside with him. Then he lugged a desk out of the rubble and wedged it into the empty space left by the door. Grabbing the door, he drove it several inches into the marble floor and then braced it against the desk. He stepped back, feeling that it would take a great deal of effort for anything to come through there now.

Scarlet, Delfi, and Dakota had awoken, and as Brennan turned to face them, he was met with looks of bewildered gratitude. They’d been unconscious, so they had no idea how he had done it, but Brennan had gotten them all to safety.

Scarlet was about to speak when another voice broke the silence, taking her completely by surprise.

“Miss Hopewell!” Ms. Thandiwe said, standing at the top of a set of stairs that led to the second landing of the library. “It can’t be!”

26

Explanations

You must be Scarlet’s granddaughter,” Ms. Thandiwe said after she had led them to the main reading room.

The main reading room had been an awe-inspiring sight when Scarlet visited with her family just a year before. The room had been bathed in soft golden light, its towering columns encircled in rose-colored stone and topped with statues. A magnificent domed ceiling soared over arches, reading tables, and beautiful sculptures. She had never been inside before, only having seen it from the visitors’ gallery. Standing in the room, she thought the space, now lit by numerous candles, was even more brilliant.

Scarlet turned to Ms. Thandiwe and smiled at her. “No, ma’am. I
am
Scarlet Hopewell.”

“That’s impossible. Scarlet would be nearly sixty-four by now,” Ms. Thandiwe said incredulously.

“You mean it’s been fifty years since I left?” Scarlet asked, quickly doing the math in her head. Even the question itself seemed incomprehensible.

Ms. Thandiwe took a long moment to study Scarlet and then Delfi, Brennan, and especially Dakota. “Yes, it has been fifty years since I had Scarlet Hopewell in my class,” she said finally. “Fifty years since
they
came, and the world went crazy. What do you mean, ‘since you left’?”

It took a long time for Scarlet to explain what had happened to her, from the night the Mortada had broken into her home all the way up until she made it to the library. At times she felt so foolish telling the story that she was afraid to continue, but for her part, Ms. Thandiwe seemed to listen with rapt attention, her face never showing any sign of judgment or disbelief. At one point Dakota interjected to help explain some things, and Ms. Thandiwe’s eyes widened when he first spoke, but even then she managed to recover quickly. When Scarlet got to the part about being taken from her father, she broke into tears. Ms. Thandiwe gathered Scarlet into her arms and held her until she had finally let out the grief she’d been bottling inside.

In many ways Ms. Thandiwe was just the same as Scarlet remembered her—the same kind, caring eyes, the same long hair tied neatly in a bun, the same gaudy pink glasses hanging from a chain of beads around her neck. Her voice still had that youthful drawling South African accent, but it was impossible to ignore the obvious difference: Ms. Thandiwe was old. Her caring eyes were framed by deep-set wrinkles, and her hair was now cotton white. Her frame was still quite thin and bony, and although wrinkled, her skin was still clear and unblemished.

When Scarlet finished her story, Ms. Thandiwe took a moment to process all that she had heard before announcing, “Well, if you had told me this fifty years ago, I would have thought your imagination had run away with you. But this is no stranger than what we have been through ourselves.”

“We?” Dakota asked.

“Yes, me and the children. I had them hide downstairs when I heard the commotion.”

“Children?” Dakota said quizzically. “Where are all the adults?”

A sad and distant look came over Ms. Thandiwe. “The tiger men attacked five years ago. I was too old to fight, so I stayed inside with the children of the few adults still left. Their parents were all—they were all killed. Afterward the tigers just left—they didn’t care about us. It’s been quiet ever since, and I’ve done my best to take care of the children. There is a group of men—they were teenagers back then—who managed to survive, and still wander around trying to hunt and fight the tiger men and the other monsters. They bring us supplies every couple months. I hope and pray for their safety. They are very brave, but young. What they do is dangerous.”

“The beasts haven’t attacked you since then?” Delfi said, surprise in his voice.

“No. It was strange that they attacked that time. Something about the library—they don’t like it, and they’ve always avoided coming close. I sometimes wonder whether, if the adults had just stayed inside, instead of going to fight them, they would still . . .” Ms. Thandiwe’s voice faded away as tears fell down her face. She made no effort to hide them or wipe them away, and somehow this only made her look more dignified.

“Can you tell me, please, ma’am,” Dakota said reverently, “what has happened over the last fifty years? It’s of great importance.”

Ms. Thandiwe dried her eyes with a lace handkerchief that she drew from her sleeve. “It was about fifty years ago. The sky went dark all over the world. The weathermen had no idea what was going on. They couldn’t explain it. Then the trees and plants began growing wild, and the tiger men came.”

“Tiranthropes,” Delfi interjected.

“Yes, the . . . tiranthropes, you call them? They began killing all the men in the military and police. There was a horrible war all over the world. So much death. The plants destroyed our power plants and our factories. Without electricity, the military couldn’t communicate, and they were eventually defeated. Without them to help keep the monsters in check—well, it was awful. So many people died. That was about thirty years ago. Ever since, we who survived have lived in hiding.” Ms. Thandiwe looked as if reliving the events had taken a lot out of her.

“What made you choose this library?” Dakota asked.

“I don’t know exactly. I have always loved the library and books. Here in the capital, the buildings are made of stone and steel and haven’t been taken over by vegetation. Most everything else was destroyed. Also—well, never mind, it doesn’t make sense,” Ms. Thandiwe said with embarrassment.

“Please. It may not make sense to you, but you’d be surprised what is important,” Dakota said reassuringly.

“Well . . . I was drawn here. I can’t explain it,” Ms. Thandiwe admitted. “Does that help you or make any sense?”

“It might. Perhaps we should get the children now, and introduce ourselves,” Dakota said.

***

The children turned out to be twenty boys and girls of varying ages, some as young as six, a few as old as fourteen. Having been born and raised in this new version of the world, they were not at all taken aback by Dakota talking, or the mention of magic. A few seemed apprehensive about Brennan, who towered over them, but his calm, easygoing manner soon brought them around. The entire group of them looked skinny, but otherwise well cared for, and at seeing Ms. Thandiwe a few of the younger ones rushed over to her and clung to her side.

“Thandy,” one of the youngest said, tugging on Ms. Thandiwe’s skirt. “Have they brought us more food?”

Scarlet smiled at the little girl’s accent. Doing quick math in her head, Scarlet realized that Ms. Thandiwe would have raised the little girl since shortly after she was born.

“No, sweetheart,” Ms. Thandiwe said to the little girl. “They have come to stay with us.” She turned to Scarlet. “They call me Thandy. Many have tried to call me Mommy, but I did not think that was right. They all had mothers. Brave and wonderful women. Ms. Thandiwe is just too formal, though, don’t you think?”

They all ate in the reading room, which seemed to serve as the general living area for Ms. Thandiwe and the children. The meal consisted mainly of canned goods, although Ms. Thandiwe made a point of placing everything out as best she could so that they ate in some semblance of order, like a real family. After dinner Scarlet was treated to something she had dearly missed since leaving her home: Ms. Thandiwe read to all the children, her lilting voice filling the chamber. For a moment, Scarlet as well as the children felt carried away from the painful memories and danger that lurked outside the walls.

Later that night, Brennan and Dakota pored over a floor map of the Library of Congress, paying special attention to the building they were in, the Thomas Jefferson Building, and the tunnels that led to the Adams and Madison Buildings, as well as the Capitol. It was a lot of ground to defend. There were so many possible entrances that it seemed almost impossible to secure them all.

“What about what the old woman said about the tiranthropes staying away from the library? Do you think there’s something to that?” Brennan asked.

“I don’t know, and there’s no way we can be sure,” Dakota confessed. “It might be that there was just nothing they really cared about inside before. After all, once the adults left, it was only Ms. Thandiwe and a group of children—hardly a threat. Besides, we are going to have to leave soon. Scarlet has to complete her magical education if we are ever to have a chance at beating Prince Thanerbos. I don’t like the thought of leaving them here, with things the way they are.”

Although Dakota was initially reluctant to tell Brennan about their plans, his actions to save them in the Capitol Mall had earned Brennan the right to know. Dakota was still guarded, considering Brennan’s involvement with a Mortada, but until something proved him to be other than an ally, Brennan had gained Dakota’s reluctant trust.

An idea had suddenly occurred to Brennan. “Back at the school, the door was covered by roots and then right before you came out, they moved aside. Was that your magic?”

“No, it was Scarlet’s. Why?” Dakota asked.

“Maybe she could do it in reverse. Put up roots to block the doors to the buildings and tunnels,” Brennan suggested.

“I’m afraid that might take a great deal of energy. I’m not sure she’d be up to it,” Dakota said, feeling particularly overprotective.

They studied the map in silence for several minutes before Dakota spoke again.

“Perhaps if we combine a little magic with some heavy lifting, we might be able to get it done. Have Scarlet close a few of the key entrances and work on barricading the rest,” Dakota suggested.

“I could certainly gather up some of the older boys and Delfi. If we worked at it, I bet we could make a fair bit of progress,” Brennan offered.

***

The next morning Brennan talked to Ms. Thandiwe and informed her of his intentions. He’d expected her to object that the tiranthropes naturally stayed away from the library, but she was in fact keen to improve the security of her chosen refuge.

Brennan, Delfi, and three of Ms. Thandiwe’s boys—a small, thin boy of fourteen named John Farrington, who had thick curly hair and thicker glasses, and two pudgy boys of thirteen, each with the same narrow eyes, who remained so quiet that Brennan never learned their names, only that they were brothers but not twins—worked the entire day emptying shelves and desks and using them to barricade the library’s entrances. It was hard, slow work. Brennan was pleased with how eager the boys were to pitch in. Their small size and undernourishment meant that they couldn’t lift much at a time, and worked slowly. When evening finally came and Brennan called the work done for the day, they had managed to block up seven entrances. Scarlet, he found out when they met up again, had managed to seal up the tunnel to the Madison Building.

At dinner Scarlet looked exhausted, and Brennan began to understand what Dakota meant about conserving her energy. At the current pace, Brennan figured, it would take a week to cover all the entrances.

As it turned out, they would have only one more day.