The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis (15 page)

The soldier grunted. “Have thy way, Sir George, but thy guests must leave eventually. We stand guard till then.”

Amanda watched the stinky soldiers back out. Friar Tup ambled out as fast as his turkey legs could carry him, crossing himself at least nine times over. Sir George slammed the door, then turned and raised his sword.

“Ale on the house. ’Tis May Day after all.”

The patrons cheered and whistled, clanking their tankards and goblets together and laughing like children in a candy store. Sheathing his sword, Sir George picked up a bag of barley and marched toward the back in disciplined, direct strides. As he passed Amanda he winked and said, “Thou givest, thou gettest.”

With everyone’s help, all the grain was piled neatly in a rectangular cave at the bottom of the stairs that led back up to the inn. Sir George suggested that they change out of their minstrel-wear and Jordan wash the blue woad off his face. Jensen didn’t have to be told twice, and as for Amanda, the tunic she wore was starting to make her itch in all the wrong places.

Looking around, Amanda couldn’t help but wonder about the labyrinth of caves that infiltrated the village of Nottingham. From Mortimer’s hole to the dungeon to the courtyard and all throughout Nottingham, these caves seemed to be used for everything from shelters to malting rooms to businesses. Shivering at the drop in temperature, Amanda rubbed her arms briskly, trying to warm them.

“I remember my father telling me the Nottingham caves were used as bomb shelters during World War II,” Melody whispered to Drake and Treena.

Treena groaned. “FYI—I think I’d feel safer above ground.”

“You’d be safer in here than in an actual mine, Mui,” Drake said, as he pushed his hand against the cave wall. “This sand makes for a solid base, so nothing’s gonna collapse on top of us.”

“It’s not the collapsing part that freaks me out,” Treena said, her teeth chattering. “It’s what’s in those dark tunnels.”

Jordan snorted. “Really, Mui? You’re not afraid of being squashed to death, but you’re afraid of what’s in the caves?”

Ravi made a scary
woo
sound. “Mui’s afraid of what lurks beneath the surface.”

“Don’t worry, Treena,” Amanda said. “Jockstrap’s face will scare them away.”

The acrid smell of rushes burning began to fill the cave as Sir George lit five torches. He passed one to Jordan, the second to Alan a’Dale, a third to Melody, and the fourth to Robyn, keeping the last torch for himself.

“Yonder are many passages stemming from this main tunnel,” Sir George said. “Follow me, stay close.”

Sir George led them down a series of caves all branching from underneath the Rockyard Inn. Both Sir George and Jordan lit the way with their torches. Next in line came Jean, Miriam, Melody, and Drake. They were tailed by Wil, Ravi, Alan a’Dale, Much, and Tuck, while Amanda, Treena, and Robyn brought up the rear. Along the way they passed small subterranean rooms filled with jugs and cooking pots used to make the inn’s ale. A circular kiln reeked of burned barley and wheat. Amanda winced at the sharp smell.

The dampness was starting to push into Amanda’s skin. Treena seemed to be dragging her feet, and they were falling behind. Amanda nudged Treena, but Treena didn’t want to move any faster.

“Get going, Treena,” Amanda said, prodding her.

Treena chewed her bottom lip. “Sorry, Amanda, but I’m not too good with things that go bump in a cave.”

“Is a problem?” Robyn asked, as he waved the torch in their faces.

“I think Treena’s having a cave crisis. You know, bugs, bats, anything with antennas.”

Robyn shook his head. “’Tis the truth no wiggles survive down here. Now go, before we lose them.”

“What’d he say?” Treena asked.

“He said no chance of it. Nothing stays alive long enough in the caves.”

Treena gulped. “N-Nothing? Does that include us?”

Shuffling down the tunnel, Amanda heard whispering going on ahead. They were almost under the castle. Another turn and they would catch up with the others. Sir George brought a finger to his lips and pointed. Amanda saw another tunnel to their left. This one seemed wider and rounder. It also appeared darker and deeper. Treena groaned again.

“’Tis where I must take my leave,” Sir George said. A hint of regret lingered in his voice. “Follow yon cave. It shall take thee to where thou wishest to be.”

“My first choice would be Disneyland, but finding Uncle John is a close second,” Jordan said. “Thanks, for helping us, Sir George.”

Sir George bowed. “As a Knight Templar ’tis my duty to protect those on a pilgrimage.”

“And ’tis my duty to give thee alms for thy quest, Sir George,” Robyn said. He handed him the money earned from sword fighting in the street.

Sir George smiled. “I thank thee for thy patronage. I shall do my best to serve.”

He started down the tunnel they had just come through and stopped. There was another passageway, barely visible, and he shone his torch against the brown wall to reveal an etched symbol. Amanda made out a triangle inverted over another triangle with a circle drawn around it.

“’Tis the Seal of Solomon,” Sir George said. “Follow it. ’Twill guide thy way out, away from the inn and into Sherwood Forest. King Richard hath used this passage many a time. I wish thee safe journey, my friends.”

Amanda heard
snap, crack, whoosh
as Sir George tossed his torch into the air. He was gone before it landed. She rubbed her eyes.

Treena’s jaw dropped. “Now I’m officially freaked out.”

“Come on, guys, let’s bust Uncle John out,” Jordan said as he led the way.

Tuck whined and stopped. Much grabbed his muzzle and pulled him forward.

“I don’t blame you, Tuck,” Treena whispered. “I don’t wanna go either.”

A low groan, like misery warmed over, permeated through Amanda’s bones. The morose sound came from the direction they were heading. This was followed by a set of chains jingling. The hairs on the back of her neck rippled. Her shoulders tensed. She swallowed hard and as they turned a corner, braced herself for the worst.

Melody gasped. It was worse than worse. Professor Lucas was slumped across the cave floor, chained to the wall, his head down.

“Uncle John!” Jordan shouted as he started to run toward him.

As if coming to life, Professor Lucas jerked his head up. “S-Stay back, Jordan! It…it’s a—”

“Trap!” a low voice cut in from the darkest part of the shadows.

Following the torches, Amanda squinted, and there, smiling like a jackal, stood Marcus Crowley. He was leaning against an arch. Amanda did a double take. The arch appeared similar to the Arch of Atlantis as far as stature and shape, but it had an unfathomable blackness to it, as if this was the gate to hell. Crowley snickered, sounding like a dying snake.

“Good day, Timekeepers,” he said with all the sincerity of a lunatic. He stepped away from the arch and swished a hand in front of it. “I’d like to introduce you to Belial, Thirteenth Magus of the Arcane Tradition, and Master of the fifth Arch of Atlantis.”

Master of the fifth Arch of Atlantis?
Thirteenth Magus of the Arcane Tradition?
It sounded like an arrogant boast to Amanda. She glanced up toward the keystone in the arch, and her eyes widened. A black trident was set inside it. She peered into the archway and stiffened. A blob of darkness, like a shadow with no shape, filled the void. An icy, stabbing sensation, as if she were being kissed by the Grim Reaper, consumed her. Amanda shuddered.

“Uncle John, are you okay?” Jordan asked, running over to help him up. He shone the torch over him. “Did…did Crowley hurt you?”

Professor Lucas blinked, then grunted. He reached over to tousle Jordan’s hair. “I’ll survive, tiger. Just seeing you has made my day brighter.”

Amanda checked over the professor. He was a little worse for wear—cuts on his face, tattered clothing, and bruised wrists from where the shackles hung. The only thing that looked untouched was his blue fishing hat. Just as Jordan let go of his uncle, Melody rushed over to inspect him. She handed Miriam the torch, then dipped into one of her pockets to retrieve the Swiss Army knife she had used to fashion Robyn’s bow. Freeing a small blade, she proceeded to pick the professor’s shackles. It was like watching Houdini in a skirt. The chains fell to the cave floor in a matter of seconds. Stunned, Amanda wondered where Melody had done that trick before.

Rubbing his wrists lightly, Professor Lucas winked at Melody and then turned to face Crowley. “Let them go, Marcus. They’re just kids, for God’s sake!”

Crowley snickered. “They’re also Timekeepers, Johnny-boy, and a threat to Belial.”

Melody took a step forward. “Belial’s an evil parasite, Crowley! Don’t you see?”

“Well now, you must be Melody Spencer,” Crowley said, inclining his head. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of a proper introduction.”

“And you won’t get one either, you worm-face pus-ball!” Drake spat, jumping in front of Melody.

Low, raspy laughter rolled from the arch, like it had just crawled up from hell. The black trident ominously glowed. Goose bumps rippled across Amanda’s chilled skin as a voice slithered out from the arch.

“Yesss. Get mad, Drake Bailey, get mad. Don’t you want to kill Crowley for leaving you for dead? I would. Yesss. I would crusssh him like a ssspider.”

Drake stood still. Melody gathered Drake up in her arms and moved him farther away from the stone arch. Belial let out a rattled moan like he didn’t take too kindly to Melody’s motherly gesture. The trident dimmed as if it had been turned down a notch. A thought occurred to Amanda—Lilith had told them that Belial fed off of the anger, hatred, and fears of others. So when Drake got ticked, Belial got lunch. Amanda smirked. At least now she knew not what to do. It was time for a hunger strike.

“Listen up, everyone!” Amanda said. “Don’t get angry or freaked or start saying nasty things. That’s what Belial feeds on.”

“You mean you want us to pull a Peter Pan and think happy thoughts?” Treena asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly what Amanda means,” Professor Lucas said. “Positive thoughts and feelings helped me survive while I was down here. That’s why Belial needs weak-minded people like Crowley to feast on, so they’ll do all the dirty work for him.”

Crowley laughed. “Weak-minded? I think the word you’re looking for is
driven,
Johnny-boy. After all, it takes a lot of guts to go after what you want in this world.”

“At what price, Crowley?” Melody asked. “Your humanity?”

Suddenly, a painful moan rose from the shadows behind where Professor Lucas had been chained. It sounded lost and pitiful.

Jordan waved his torch. “What was that?”

“Philip Marc,” Crowley said smugly. “The true Sheriff of Nottingham.”

Amanda squinted and made out the shape of a man leaning up against the cave wall. Her nostrils flared. The man smelled rancid, like he’d been down here a long time. His clothes appeared ripped and bloodied as if he’d faced a dragon. Melody and Miriam immediately ran to him. Melody started to undo his chains as she had done for the professor, while Miriam held the torch above her. He muttered something incoherent, then slumped to the floor. Professor Lucas and Much became human crutches to lift the tortured sheriff off the damp ground. They dragged him over to where the rest stood.

Jean fiercely banged his staff down. “Why hast thou chained Sheriff Marc?”

Crowley sneered. “He’s being punished.”

“Punished for what?” Amanda asked.

“For withholding information,” Crowley replied, stroking his beard.

Ravi’s mouth twitched. “What kind of information?”

“For not telling Belial where—”

“’Tis trickery which makes yon stone speak?” Robyn asked, interrupting Crowley. He shoved his torch inside the archway.

The black trident instantly dulled and a shriek reverberated out of the arch. Amanda flinched. She covered her ears, hoping they wouldn’t bleed.
What did Robyn do to provoke the scream of the century?

Belial moaned out a death rattle. “Crowley, you imbecile! You know I abhor light!”

Crowley drew his sword and hacked away Robyn’s torch. He stomped the fire out and motioned him to get back with the others.

“God’s wounds, Robyn Hodekin! Thou art such a knotty-pated simpkin!” Miriam blurted. “Anyone can see ’tis sorcery which commands yon arch.”

“Robyn Hodekin?” Belial screeched. Then black laughter erupted. “Or is he the legendary
Robin Hood
in the guise of a boy?”

Drake groaned. “Great! Leave it to a girl to mess things up!”

“Robin Hood? Nay,” Alan a’Dale said, shaking his head. Then he scratched his chin. “Though, ’twill work grand in my gest.”

Amanda’s stomach clenched. Belial now knew Robin Hood’s true identity. The blob of blackness hissed out a laugh that sounded like nails scraping across an endless chalkboard. Jean jumped in front of them, swinging his staff as if he was preparing for a fight. Robyn pulled an arrow from his belt, placed it in his bow, and stood ready to aim. Wil drew his silver knife out of his belt and held it ready, while Tuck folded his ears back and let out a monstrous growl.

“Face it, Crowley, you’re outnumbered! Let us go!” Professor Lucas demanded.

“Have you forgotten about these?” Crowley asked, swinging Drake and Treena’s Babel necklaces like a pendulum. “I’d say it’s time for a trade, Johnny-boy. In exchange for these two lovely necklaces, I’ll take the young Robin Hood and your crystal trident. All he has to do is walk through the archway with the trident in his hands. Easy-peasy.”

Drake grunted. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jordan slapped his hand over Drake’s mouth. “No, Drake, don’t give Belial anything to chew on.”

Treena scrunched her face as if she’d been asked a tough math question. She pulled off her knapsack and started rummaging around in it, just as Professor Lucas said, “Surely you’re not serious, Marcus? He’s just a kid!”

“And he’ll grow into the man who symbolizes hope for his people, Lucas,” Crowley hissed. “I say let the people fight their own worthless battles! Now give the boy the crystal trident so that he can surrender himself to Belial.
Trust me
, it doesn’t hurt a bit.”

“Rogue!” Robyn yelled, as he released his arrow.

A shadowy tentacle emerged out of the arch and swiped at Robyn’s arrow. Like some freaky osmosis experiment, it was absorbed instantly. The tentacle retreated as fast as it had appeared. Cold, hard laughter followed, while the black trident shone wickedly. Jean dropped his staff, and it rolled over to where Ravi stood.

Ravi reached down to grasp the staff with his artificial hand. His fingers jerked, as if he’d received an electric shock. His eyes widened.

“Are you okay?” Amanda whispered to him.

Ravi licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah. It’s weird. As soon as I touched Jean’s staff, a picture of a fishing rod flashed through my mind.”

Amanda smiled. “Hold that thought, Sharma.” She nudged Melody. “Melody, give me that twine you used for Robyn’s bow.”

Melody quickly passed the roll of twine to her. There wasn’t much left on it, but it was just enough.

“Here, Ravi,” Amanda said. “Tie this twine to the end of Jean’s pole. You’re going fishing for Babels.”

Then she pointed at the professor’s hat, adorned with assorted fishing lures. Ravi grinned and nodded.

While Ravi was busy tying the string to the end of Jean’s staff, Amanda let out a violent sneeze with enough force to turn her nostrils inside out and in the process knocked off Professor Lucas’s hat with her hand. Crowley glared at her.

“
Gesundheit
,” Professor Lucas whispered.

Amanda sniffed, wiping her nose. “Stupid allergies.”

She glanced over her shoulder and frowned. The blue hat landed too far behind them to pluck off a lure. Flustered, Amanda rubbed her face. Ravi’s prosthesis began to pulsate, as if it were coming to life. It twitched, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, until his hand jumped off his stump—just as it had done when he had tried to stop Jordan. It landed on the ground and started to scuttle toward the professor’s hat. Amanda and Ravi watched in awe, as the fingers acted like spider’s legs while it scurried across the cave floor. When Ravi’s hand reached the hat, it burrowed underneath it and scampered back to him as if it were an obedient dog returning to its master.

“I think I could really get to like this, Amanda,” Ravi whispered, a smile filling his face.

Ravi picked up the hat, popped his prosthesis back on, and pulled off a lure before anyone else saw what had happened. A golden lure with six barbed hooks attached to its underbelly was Ravi’s choice. Amanda smirked. It was perfect for bottom feeders like Crowley. While hidden behind her, Ravi secured the lure to the end of the twine, gave it a good tug, and let it drop.

“Ready?” she asked quietly.

“Ready for the catch of the day,” he whispered.

Suddenly, a light danced across their eyes. Treena held out her illuminated cell phone she’d retrieved from her knapsack. “Need a light? There’s an app for that,” she whispered.

Amanda had seen Belial’s allergic reaction to Robyn’s torch. Treena’s lit phone would be just the diversion to keep that hissing blob of hate from interfering with Ravi’s cast. She nodded. “Be a star and shine, Mui.”

“When I cast out this line—”

“I know, Sharma,” Treena cut in. ““Throw a little light Belial’s way.”

Crowley snickered. “Well, John, time’s running out, and Belial loathes to be kept waiting. Decide now, or I’ll throw these Babels to Belial!”

Before Professor Lucas could answer, Ravi let the lure fly. It was a perfect cast, considering he didn’t have a lightweight rod and proper reel. The line wound tightly around Crowley’s hand, and Ravi yanked back hard as if he’d landed the biggest fish of his life.

“Arggah!” Crowley yelled.

As if on cue, Treena pitched her glowing cell phone into the mouth of the arch. “Hey, Belial, time for your wake-up call!”

The black trident went lifeless just as a bone-shattering howl exploded through the archway. Crowley dropped his sword and released the Babel necklaces as the lure’s barbed hooks dug into his skin. He fell to his knees with a scream of pain, almost rivaling Belial. Amanda lunged to scoop up the necklaces and tossed them to Ravi, who distributed the Babels to their rightful owners. It was teamwork at its best.

“Y-You’ll regret this, boy!” Crowley shrieked, glaring at Ravi.

“The only thing I regret is not having a bigger hook, fish-lips.” Ravi smirked as he flipped the professor his hat.

“Okay, everybody, let’s move!” Professor Lucas yelled. He fumbled for the hat and plopped it on his head.

“Right behind you, Uncle!” Jordan shouted. He looked over his shoulder. “Do your thing, Wil! Cut the sucker loose!”

Wil reached out with his knife and cut the twine imprisoning Crowley. This action launched Crowley backward into the stone archway. Like a scene out of a horror movie, Crowley was sucked into the swirling dark blob. A grotesque gurgle came out of Belial, like Crowley had left a bad after taste. Something was burped out of the arch. It slid across the cave floor and landed by Treena’s feet. It was her cell phone, melted and mangled and fizzling.

Treena winced. “Guess I should have gone with a better long distance plan.”

“Zounds, Ravi, thou art the best fisherman my eyes hath seen!” Jean shouted.

“Thanks, Jean, but I think I’ll stick to a lighter rod!” Ravi replied, tossing Jean his staff.

Miriam and Treena led the way out of the cell, while Tuck became their shadow. They were followed by Much and Professor Lucas dragging the unconscious Sheriff Marc. Next went Jean, Jordan, Drake, Wil, and Robyn. Only Alan a’Dale, Amanda, Ravi, and Melody remained. The sound of rattling chains halted their exodus and made them look back at the arch. The black trident turned a ghostly gray hue and out popped a man, as if Belial had birthed him. The man got up cautiously and started to smooth his attire out. He was dressed like he had stepped out of another time zone.

Melody gasped. “W-Who are you?”

The man looked at them sideways. “Maxwell J. Tarbush,” he croaked, as if he hadn’t used his voice in a very long time.

Tarbush raised his right arm and pulled down his sleeve to reveal nothing but a burned fleshy stump. A line of black slime dripped from the corner of Tarbush’s mouth, and he sneered as he wiped it away.

“’Tis time we take our leave, muse,” Alan a’Dale said, grabbing Amanda’s hand and leading her toward the tunnel where the others had disappeared.

“W-What do you want, Tarbush?” Ravi asked nervously, while Melody tugged on his arm to follow.

Maxwell J. Tarbush grinned wickedly. “I want another chance at lady luck,” he replied. “This time I’m determined to come up aces.”