The Owl Keeper (21 page)

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

[Image: Rose.]

"I didn't burn up!" cried Max in amazement. "I'm not allergic to the sun!" Were sun particles real? he wondered, or had Dr. Tredegar made them up? Giddy with joy, he raced through the field, his pursuers momentarily forgotten. An endless blue sky stretched overhead. "Rose!" he shouted. "I'm still alive!"

He couldn't remember ever seeing such radiant colors--vivid yellows and reds and greens--all vibrating dizzily around him. Was this how the world appeared to other people every day? The sky rotated above, surprising him over and over with its blueness.

Ahead, light bounced off the gray-blue stones of the ancient

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bridge. He could see Rose standing at the distant end of it, looking off in the opposite direction: a slight, dark, dreamy figure with a black dog at her side.

What was Rose doing with that savage animal? Did it have her cornered on the bridge? Was it ready to attack? Worried for her safety, Max raced on, pounding over the stone floor bridge.

"Rose!" he yelled, his panic mounting. A brisk wind whipped against his face. "Rose, are you all right?"

"Max!" shouted Rose, turning.

Halfway across the bridge, Max skidded to a halt. He'd suddenly noticed that one side was missing a section of the stone rail. Someone--a maintenance worker probably--had casually leaned a two-by-four wooden plank across the empty space.

Staring at the plank, he thought how easy it would be to fall. And falling was one of Max's worst fears. Without meaning to, he peered over the side, and froze when he saw the drop. The water was hundreds, maybe thousands, of feet below--so far that his mind couldn't work out the distance. He had never been up this high in his life. Far, far beneath he saw a vortex of black water spinning madly.

His stomach lurched and he felt the cogs and wheels inside his head crunch to a halt. In an instant his joy evaporated. Panic overwhelmed him.

"Max, they're coming!" Rose yelled. "Run!"

Transfixed, he heard a sound drift over from the field--the smooth hum of a glider--and he felt a cold rush of dread and panic. The wind-borne vessel was landing!

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Moments later Mrs. Crumlin's voice came calling out to him: "Stay put, Maxwell, don't you move!"

"Run, Max!" shouted Rose.

Fear and sadness subdued him as he stood there, shivering wildly, unable to escape. This was the effect extreme heights had on him: they paralyzed every inch of his body. He wanted more than anything to be brave and rescue Rose, but his feet were stuck fast. He realized he wasn't going anywhere.

Moments later, he heard Mrs. Crumlin, huffing and puffing as she clumped her way across the bridge toward him. "Don't move or you'll fall!" she shrilled.

Then her sausage fingers hooked onto his collar. Max slumped in anguish, helpless to fight back, and a dark curtain of despair fell over him.

"I have the boy, doctor!" crowed Mrs. Crumlin triumphantly. "Frightened as a rabbit, he is!"

Max could see Dr. Tredegar loping across the bridge in a yellow slicker and alligator shoes, carrying his red leather medical bag.

"Nasty little beggar!" The doctor shook a fist at his shaggy black hound. "Where have you been, you ungrateful mongrel?"

Max stared in bafflement at the scene. Instead of attacking Rose, the dog sat cowering next to her, looking frightened to death.

"Leave Helios alone!" shouted Rose. Max watched, confused, as she threw her arms around the animal's neck, looking like they'd been friends all her life.

"Correction, young lady!" shouted Dr. Tredegar, and Max saw

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him flash his square teeth. "That flea-bitten beast has no name! It belongs to me!"

"He's my dog now!" she yelled back. "He's Helios, the sun god!"

Wasn't it just like Rose to name a dog after a Greek god? thought Max. Rose was a warrior girl, all right: she always stood her ground no matter who threatened her. She'd even won over that vicious hound.

Then, from behind, Mrs. Crumlin's slablike arms closed around him, squeezing the breath out of his lungs.

The doctor collected himself and turned his attention to Max. "Righty-o, son, we have some work to finish, don't we?" Twisting his mouth, he reached into his bag. "Long overdue, this injection." He gave the vial a quick shake.

This was so unfair, thought Max drearily. He had finally realized he wasn't sick or allergic to anything, only to be captured by these two maniacs.

"You poisoned me and lied about my allergy to sun particles!" he croaked. "Look, I'm alive! The sunlight didn't kill me!"

"All part of the High Echelon's plan," replied Mrs. Crumlin tartly. "We kept you out of harm's way, didn't we? Our job was to distance you from the rest of the world."

Max tuned her out. Instead, he admired the claw marks down the side of her face. Nice work, owl, he thought.

"Sunlight was never an option," added Dr. Tredegar. "It weakens the retina. Skræk Masters need excellent night vision." He glowered at Mrs. Crumlin. "Why is this boy so much more trouble than the others? These endless questions and accusations, this incessant running away! I'm fed up chasing after this child."

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Max stared at the doctor in surprise. There were
other
kids like him? Were they getting injections too? The thought sent an icy tingle down his spine. Then he remembered Dr. Tredegar talking to Mrs. Crumlin about the "chosen twelve."

"You're doing this to other kids, aren't you? You're giving them injections like me!" he shouted. "The twelve, right? The Twelve Henchmen of Sengeneth?"

"Clever boy," murmured Dr. Tredegar.

"Yes, Maxwell, you will have twelve able-bodied apprentices, all the same age as you." Mrs. Crumlin pushed back Max's sleeve and wrenched out his arm. "Don't move a muscle."

"After this injection not even your little runaway friend will recognize you." Dr. Tredegar gave Max a ghoulish smile. "Cold, clammy skin, paper-thin wings, pointed teeth. And, oh yes, a distinctive odor that gets more pungent with time."

Max stared at him in wide-eyed horror. He felt faint, disgusted, dizzy with shock. "Get off me!" he yelled, flailing against Mrs. Crumlin, wild with terror. "You're not making me a Skræk Master, you're turning me into a skræk!" he screamed, punching, scratching, spitting and kicking.

"You are mistaken, Maxwell." Mrs. Crumlin kept her arms locked firmly around him as he tried to claw his way out of her grasp. "A Skræk Master must instill fear in the enemy, his every command must be obeyed by the skræks. The High Echelon's grand scheme is to infuse your human features with those of a skræk. With your changed appearance and no-fear genes, you will be truly terrifying."

"Keep the boy still!" growled Dr. Tredegar.

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Gripping Max's shoulders, Mrs. Crumlin shook him so hard he thought the bones in his neck would snap. "Rick, rack, ruin--" sang the doctor.

"Run, Max!" yelled Rose. He could see her on the far end of the bridge, waving her arms. "Run for your life!"

He couldn't run, he was being held too tightly, but he realized there was one thing that he could do. Shaking off his mitten, Max slipped his free hand into his pocket.

Dr. Tredegar slunk toward him, the InjectaPort winking in the sunlight.

Mrs. Crumlin chimed in: "Over before you can say--" Max closed his fist over Gran's shell. "Crimson--"

With fierce resolve Max tore away from his captor and slashed the shell across the back of the doctor's hand. Dr. Tredegar shrieked and the InjectaPort clattered to the ground.

"You little fool!" snarled the doctor, holding up his hand. "Look what you've done!"

Max noted with grim satisfaction the blood streaming from the man's fingers. "You come anywhere near me or Rose and I'll kill you!" he screamed.

A snarl still on his lips, Dr. Tredegar took a step back, nursing his wounded hand. Max could see he was only inches away from the broken section of the bridge.

Then, as if out of nowhere, the silver owl swooped down, hooting and flapping bravely, one wing a bit stiff. At the sight of her, Max's hopes soared. His owl was coming to rescue them!

"A silver owl!" yelled Mrs. Crumlin. "Kill it!"

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"Don't you touch her!" cried Max, enraged that anyone would harm his beautiful owl. He brandished the shell at Mrs. Crumlin, blood dripping from its edges.

"How dare you threaten me!" huffed Mrs. Crumlin as she started toward Max. But before she could take a step, the shaggy black hound sprang to its feet.

"No!" shouted Max, terrified that the dog would tear his owl apart.

"Attack!" ordered Dr. Tredegar. "Destroy the owl!"

With a shrill cry, the owl landed on Helios's shoulder and the dog growled. Max's heart lurched. He's going to kill her! he thought, watching openmouthed as the owl clung to the dog's fur. But instead of going for the owl, Helios raced toward the doctor, the owl crouched on its back, blinking her eyes fiercely.

Max was terrified. Why wasn't his owl flying to safety? Had she damaged her wing again? He felt faint and sick, thinking that his silver owl might die.

"Rose, call off Helios!" he shouted.

"Attack, you stupid beast!" ordered Dr. Tredegar.

Max watched the dog jump up, its paws thumping against the doctor's chest. Arms flailing, Dr. Tredegar staggered back, his alligator shoes striking the plank, sending it flying off the bridge. The doctor's bloody hand reached for a railing that was no longer there.

After that, everything seemed fast and wild and not quite real to Max. Eyes bulging, Dr. Tredegar clutched at the air, his tinted glasses sliding down his nose. Mrs. Crumlin barreled forward, pushing Max aside, and the doctor grasped her pudgy hand.

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For one brief moment, Max saw their eyes lock in horror and disbelief.

The doctor's gangly frame teetered backward and, with a shudder, he let go. For an instant he froze in midair--then he was gone. Stunned, Max looked over the bridge's edge and his heart leapt into his throat. This isn't happening, he thought, it can't be real.

He watched Dr. Tredegar spinning down, down through the gorge, slicker flapping, mouth opened in a silent scream. Max imagined him as a bird with yellow wings, hurtling to the river in a downward spiral. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Hearing a splash, Max sucked in his breath. Opening his eyes, he peered once again into the terrifying abyss. He could see, many hundreds of feet below, black water churning around the tiny shape of Dr. Tredegar. In disbelief, Max watched the waves close over the doctor's head, pulling him under.

Shivering uncontrollably, Max stared into the raging maelstrom; then light flooded down from the sun, so unexpectedly dazzling that he could no longer see.

Feeling his legs give way, Max sat down hard on the bridge. Next to him lay the doctor's tinted glasses, one lens smashed, and the InjectaPort bubbling with purple liquid.

He couldn't stop his teeth from chattering. "Dr. Tredegar is gone," he said to himself, "sucked into a whirlpool." It had happened in less than a minute. He'd never seen anyone die before. When he touched the InjectaPort, the cold metal sent a shiver through him; without thinking he slipped it into his jacket pocket.

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He looked up and saw Mrs. Crumlin stumping toward him. "I knew you and that urchin were nothing but trouble," she seethed. "What a despicable thing you've done, Maxwell, murdering Dr. Tredegar!"

Max scuttled away from her. Why was it his fault? Did she mean that if he'd warned Tredegar about the missing rail, he'd still be alive? Or was she referring to his threat to kill the doctor?

"Shut up, you old dingbat!" yelled Rose. Max watched Rose bury her face in the dog's fur. "Max didn't kill him, Helios did!" The silver owl darted back and forth, skimming over her head.

"We have a problem, Maxwell." Mrs. Crumlin ignored Rose and stared at him with lusterless eyes. "A rather serious problem, I'm afraid. Never mind, we'll sort it out." She held out a muffin. "Here, eat this."

Max stared at it, feeling queasy.

"Don't touch that muffin, Max!" yelled Rose. "Run!"

Max was suddenly ravenous. He reached for the muffin, then quickly pulled his hand away. Even in his tired and confused state, he knew better than to eat anything Mrs. Crumlin offered him.

"Don't be a fool!" Mrs. Crumlin waved the muffin in front of his face. "You need this for strength and nourishment, Maxwell. Now,
eat it,"
she ordered.

"No--" Max started to say, but before he could utter another word, Mrs. Crumlin was cramming the muffin into his mouth.

To his horror, he accidentally swallowed a chunk of it. The custard was rancid--he could taste the foulness of it right away-- and it seared his mouth and throat. In a panic he spit out the rest of the muffin.