The Magician's Tower (8 page)

“And here is a portrait of Oswald's famous magic wand, painted by the equally famous painter Bernard T. Slyhand. It was Slyhand himself who stole Oswald's
wand and then afterward sent this painting to Oswald, along with a ransom note demanding a great deal of gold.” The old man lowered his hand to a glass-encased piece of red parchment below the painting. “Oswald never received the painting, or the note. In fact, Oswald was never seen again. No one knows what became of the mighty magician, just as no one knows what became of the stolen wand—though legend has it that the wand itself is the only key to the Glass Gates.”

Oona felt like she might scream. Who cared about Bernard T. Slyhand and this stupid painting of Oswald's wand? Especially when Isadora Iree was out there right now, victory in her grasp. Glancing around at her fellow competitors, she saw that Roderick Rutherford appeared just as bored as she was, though Mr. Bop, who was standing closest to the old tour guide, appeared rapt with attention.

Adler's and Oona's eyes met. He gave a little yawn, followed by a barely discernable smile.

“And that,” said the tour guide, “is the end of our tour. For those in the contest, I've been instructed to give you each one of these. You are to take it to the tower.”

He reached into his pocket and slowly removed a handful of golden tokens, holding them out in a shaky open hand.

“We hope you enjoyed this trip through history,” he
said, his voice aquiver with age, “and if you have any questions, I would be more than happy to answer—”

But Oona didn't hear the rest of what the old tour guide had to say. She snatched a token from his hand and bolted for the front entrance so quickly that Deacon leapt from her shoulder and followed by flight.

“No running in the …,” the security guard called after her as she banged through the front door. She could hear Roderick and Adler hot on her heels as she plunged down the front steps, and then darted up the sidewalk in the direction of Oswald Park.

“Here I come, Isadora,” she said under her breath.

Her shoes pounded the pavement, weaving through clusters of confused-looking pedestrians, many of whom clasped red flyers in their hands. Lungs beginning to burn, she sprinted up the sidewalk with all the speed she could muster. To her left, the iron fence separating the park from the street flew by, seemingly endless. Oona had never realized just how large the park was. Twice she nearly tripped on her skirt. At the park entrance she could feel herself beginning to slow, and by the time she reached the first row of oak trees, Roderick had overtaken her lead.

“Bloody dress!” she said through her ragged breath, though she knew that it was not simply the dress that was slowing her, but that Roderick was stronger and faster.

Stronger physically
, she thought to herself as they cut across the grass toward the tower.
But stronger mentally? I think not
.

She could hear Adler Iree clomping across fallen leaves behind her, but as they neared the tower, Oona was fairly certain she was going to beat him. Roderick was the first to clamor up the steps to the stage, where the architect stood patiently waiting. There was no sign of Isadora.

“Here!” said Roderick, slapping his golden token into the architect's outstretched hand and pressing his other hand against his side.

“Your task,” said the architect, “is to retrieve a golden banana from inside the tower and make your way to the door marked ‘exit.' You may now enter the tower.” The stubby-legged little man paused briefly before adding, with no small grin: “At your own risk.”

Roderick nodded as if he understood. He did not immediately make his way to the door, however, but took a moment to catch his breath.

“What are you waiting for, Roderick?” a voice shouted, and as Oona approached the architect with her own token, she glanced toward the crowd of spectators who had once again formed near the stage. The shouting voice was that of Roderick's father, Sir Baltimore. His face was apple red. “Get a move on, boy! You have a race to win!”

Roderick glanced in his father's direction as Oona handed her token to the architect, receiving the same instructions as Roderick. “Your task is to retrieve a golden banana from inside the tower and make your way to the door marked ‘exit.' You may now enter the tower … at your own risk.”

She saw a glimmer of mischievous delight in the man's eyes and instantly began to wonder just what she was getting herself into. What twisted game did the architect have waiting for them behind that door?

Deacon landed on Oona's shoulder, ruffling his feathers as if ready to settle in.

“The bird must wait out here,” the architect added to Oona before Adler Iree stepped up behind her and handed over his token.

As the architect gave Adler the same instructions he had given Oona and Roderick, Oona cocked her head to one side and shrugged. “Sorry, Deacon. Guess I'm on my own in there.”

Deacon cast a menacing look toward the architect, puffing himself up, as if to say:
If anything happens to her …

“It's all right, Deacon. I'll manage,” Oona said, her breath slowly returning to normal.

“As you wish,” Deacon said, and flew to the nearest tree branch, cawing his displeasure.

“I said get a move on, Roderick!” Sir Baltimore shouted at his son.

The three of them, Oona, Adler, and Roderick, approached the crooked tower door together. Oona craned her neck back, peering up at the swaying monstrosity, wondering how high they would be required to climb today, and what dreamed-up obstacles the architect had placed in there.

Then came a scream. It pierced through the tower walls like something from a nightmare, followed by what might have been shrieks of high-pitched laughter. Oona went all over with goose bumps.

Roderick took in a startled breath. “Isadora!” he shouted, before wrenching open the door and darting inside. “I'll save you, my lady!”

Adler and Oona watched him go.

Oona remembered her own hasty promise to Isadora:
I won't use any magic at all during the contest, and then we shall see who is the better
.

It had been a silly thing to agree to; she had known that from the moment the words had left her lips, but she also felt it was her duty not to go back on her vow. She had a surprisingly clear memory of her father saying something like: “A great man is only as good as his word.” And Oona's mother replied: “And a great woman, as well.” Her father had nodded his agreement, and then Oona had
said: “And a great girl!” Her parents had laughed. “Quite right, Oona, dear. Quite right,” her father had replied, mussing up her hair as he did so.

Father made it to the final challenge, and he hadn't needed magic
, Oona thought.
And neither do I
.

That settled the matter.

Another scream issued from the half-open doorway. Oona's throat was suddenly very dry as she and Adler followed Roderick into the tower.

G
et these beasts away from me!” Isadora howled.

The chatter and shrieks of chimpanzees filled Oona's ears. The chimps seemed to be everywhere, chattering, chortling, throwing things.

Oona, Roderick, and Adler bolted for the nearest shelter: a wooden table covered with banana peels and half-eaten apples.

A ripe red tomato collided with the side of Oona's head as she dove beneath the table.

“Ouch!” Roderick cried, sliding in beside Oona and digging something small and hard from his collar. “That was an avocado pit,” he said. “Might as well be throwing stones.”

“That's nothing,” Adler said, and then held up a foot-long fish. “This hit me square in the face, so it did.”

Oona was suddenly worried about what else the chimps might throw.

“We appear to be in some sort of monkey house,” Roderick said.

“You don't say,” Adler replied sarcastically.

“Actually, they are apes,” Oona said. “Chimpanzees, to be precise. Not monkeys. I've read about them.”

“What's the difference?” asked Adler.

Oona frowned. “Well, I'm not sure. But I think apes are usually much bigger than monkeys … and stronger.”

“And smellier,” said Adler. He squinched up his nose.

Oona had to agree. The room smelled terrible.

“How did Isadora get way up there?” Roderick asked, cocking his thumb toward the ceiling.

Unsure of what he meant, Oona peeked out from beneath the table.

The tower walls rose up around them like a house of cards built by an unsteady hand. The four walls leaned awkwardly in different directions, yet somehow they managed to meet the high-beamed ceiling three dizzying stories overhead.

Oona and the two boys were currently in some sort of kitchen area on the bottom floor, where an enormous wood-burning stove sat in the center of the room, atop
of which bubbled an equally large kettle of steaming liquid.

The floor above them—which was not really a floor at all, because there
was
no floor to speak of—was made up entirely of various pieces of floating furniture. Oona blinked in surprise, unsure of what she was seeing.

The furnishings appeared to hover in the air, with no support from underneath, and her first thought was that some sort of spell had been placed on them. But upon further examination she realized that the furniture was actually suspended by long black ropes that hung down from the high ceiling.

So far as she could make out, there were two upper levels, one above the other, with a series of steps and platforms built into the walls that led from one level to the next.

The first level consisted of a sofa, a chandelier, a frighteningly heavy-looking grand piano, and an even heavier-looking red brick fireplace complete with chimney. Oona shook her head, somewhat surprised to see that the fireplace was fully lit. Bits of ash and spark rained down to the lower level of the room as the fireplace rocked back and forth on the straining ropes.

Farther up, on the topmost level, a second line of furniture also hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly from side to side on their flimsy ropes like bizarre pendulums:
a standing oil lamp, a four-poster bed, a chest of drawers, and a mirrored dressing table. At the very top of the room, nearest to the hanging lamp, a rickety landing stuck out of the wall like a crooked wooden finger. It led to a bright red door, and from Oona's vantage point three stories below, she was just able to make out the word
EXIT
marked on the door in fat white letters.

Further examination of the steps and platforms along the walls revealed that the stairs leading from the bottom level to the second were on one side of the room, while the steps that rose from the second level to the third were on the opposite side. This posed quite a problem—how to get from one side of the room to the other with no floor to walk on—though presently Oona realized this was the least of their worries.

The apes, which were making so much noise that Oona wished to stuff her fingers into her ears, could all be found on the upper levels. They swung from the ropes and dangled from the edges of the furniture like extremely hairy lunatics. Oona counted five of them, and they seemed to be everywhere at once, causing the ropes holding up the piano to creak, or bouncing on the sofa like a trampoline.

Oona could see Isadora up there on the sofa, looking fearfully disheveled and holding on for dear life.

“Someone get me down from here!” she cried.

The apes screamed with laughter as several of the chimps joined in on the fun of bouncing around Isadora and the piles of fruit on the sofa.

Something shiny caught Oona's gaze: something hanging from the end of a thin chain around the neck of one of the chimps. It was hard to tell, because of how feverishly the hairy beast was bouncing on the sofa cushion beside Isadora, but to Oona the shiny object looked vaguely like a crescent of gold. With a quick glance at the chimp's companions, she realized that each of the apes had a similar necklace.

The golden bananas
, she thought.
That's what the architect told us to retrieve
.

She also realized that when the apes weren't busy throwing food at the contestants, they were attempting to toss it into the boiling pot. At present, one of the chimps, a large, fierce-looking one with a stripe of gray across its eyes, was preparing to toss one of Isadora's shoes into the boiling stew below, but when the ape caught sight of Oona peeking out from beneath the table, it hurled the shoe at her instead, striking her in the forehead.

“Bloody beast!” Oona shouted, rubbing at her forehead and ducking back beneath the table.

“Roderick!” Isadora cried from above. “I thought you were my BOYFRIEND!”

“I am, my lady,” Roderick called back.

“Then get out here, BOYFRIEND! Now! Retrieve my shoe, and then get me out of here!”

Roderick looked pale. “Just a … a … a minute, my lady!”