The Pillars of Ponderay (2 page)

A
lbert Flynn stood inside Calderon Peak.

Below him was the Sea Inspire, and outside, the Realm of Calderon, alive with angry flames that threatened to swallow the world whole.

He could hear his friends Birdie and Leroy calling for him to save them. They were trapped far below, held tightly in the claws of a great black beast—one that, in a few moments' time, would drop them into the flames. They would be gone forever, and it would be Albert's fault.

“I'm coming!” Albert screamed. He'd never let anything happen to them, not if he could help it. Albert concentrated, focusing on the magic of the Master Tile that hung from his neck.

It was the only one of its kind in the Core, and if Albert focused hard enough—squeezed his eyes shut and really, really
tried—he could get the Tile to do anything. Even make him fly.

He concentrated, fists clenched, sweat dripping down his back.

I want to soar like Superman.

He pictured the symbol in his mind, one that he'd recently mastered, which looked like the outspread wings of a bird.

But nothing happened.

Albert reached for the cord at his neck, fingers itching to grasp the Tile.

But he felt nothing at all.

“No,” Albert gasped.

Beneath him, the monster roared. Albert heard the cries of his friends as the beast released its talons, dropping them into the flames of the Sea Inspire.

It was too late to help them.

Albert's Master Tile was gone.

Albert awoke with a start. Two bright blue beams of light shone into his eyes, and he had to clap a hand over his face before he was blinded.

“Farnsworth,” he groaned, reaching out to touch his dog's head. How Farnsworth's fur could be both soft and rough at the same time, Albert wasn't sure. But he did know one thing. “You aren't supposed to use your flashlight eyes outside of the Core. Come on, buddy. Shut them off, before someone sees!”

Farnsworth whimpered, and the light faded from his eyes. Albert dropped his hand and stared at the dog. Or, rather, he stared at the Canis Luminatis.

It still blew Albert's mind that the dog was his. Farnsworth wasn't from the surface of the earth. He came from
inside
of it, deep in the center of the earth. Most people, like scientists and Albert's bald, sandal-wearing schoolteacher, insisted that the Core was full of molten metal.

But a select few knew better. They were called Balance Keepers, and Albert was one of them. Their mission? To go to the Core when they were called, and access hidden Realms through a set of sealed gateways. When the Realms were out of Balance . . . well, the world on the surface was, too. Things went bad, and
fast.
And until the Balance Keepers could go into the Imbalanced Realm, find the Means to solve the problem, and fix it in a flash, things on the surface only got worse.

Albert was only eleven, a newbie in the Core.

Not anymore
, he thought, smiling to himself as he lay in bed beside Farnsworth. Just a few months ago, Albert and his two teammates (and new best friends) on team Hydra, Birdie and Leroy, had saved the world by setting the Balance right in the Realm of Calderon.

The place Albert had just dreamed about.

Albert reached up, almost instinctively, to touch his neck.

The Tile was there, just as it always had been. Albert could never lose it.

It was too powerful.

Too important.

And in six months' time (which was way too long, as far as Albert was concerned), he'd be going back to the Core. Back to his favorite place in the world, where his teammates would greet him. And
oh yeah
, there was also his dad, a Professor in the Core, who was totally awesome in Albert's eyes. Professor Flynn was the one who'd given Albert the Balance Keeper gene, after all.

“ALBERT! Breakfast is ready!” Albert's mom called.

Her voice drew Albert from his thoughts. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. 7:34 a.m.
So much for sleeping in on a Saturday.
He rolled out of bed and threw on a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt that said
Seismologize THIS!
It was Albert's favorite new seismology blog—something he'd recently become fascinated with, when school and homework and his obnoxious little half siblings didn't get in the way. After all, anything that had to do with the earth's natural activities . . . well, it sort of reminded Albert of home. The Core.

“Let's go, Farnsworth,” Albert said, tightening the laces on his Converse. “I smell waffles!”

Farnsworth didn't have to be told twice. Waffles were his favorite treat, just like they were Albert's friend Leroy's. The second Albert opened the door of his
bedroom, the little dog sprinted away and scurried down the stairs.

Most of the year, Albert lived in New York City with his mom and stepdad and three half siblings. Their apartment wasn't large, by any means, and often the mornings were so chaotic that Albert
almost
felt like he was back in the Main Chamber of the Core.

There were way too many pairs of tiny tennis shoes on the stairs, a line of dolls with horrible haircuts, and a rubber duck that squeaked like a mouse when Albert kicked it out of the way. He crawled onto the railing and slid face-first down the stairs. When he got to the bottom, he did a sort of awkward flip-roll onto the floor and rose to his feet.

Hey, it wasn't as cool as things he could do in the Core. But he had to try. Life could get pretty boring in the real world.

The smell of his mom's cooking was a constant in the apartment, and Albert's stomach rumbled as he made his way down the hall to the kitchen. His half sister, Susan, sprinted past him.

“KITTY!” she screamed, her blond hair whipping Albert in the face as she chased the family tabby cat.

“Susan, leave the cat alone,” Albert groaned. The poor thing's striped tail was puffed up like a duster. It was constantly being chased. And not just by the kids. Farnsworth was also one of the culprits, and he'd gotten in
great shape since moving with Albert to the city.

Another sibling ran past. Sam, Albert's redheaded younger half brother, was always shooting rubber darts at Albert's face. Sure enough, he had the dart gun.

“Hands up!” Sam said, stopping in the middle of the hall. He aimed right at Albert.

“Whoa! Not today, little man!” Albert said. But Sam launched a dart toward him anyway. Albert ducked just in time, and the dart lodged itself into the cuckoo clock on the wall behind him.

CUCKOO! CUCKOO!

It chirped nonstop, and soon Albert's stepdad, Rick, emerged from the downstairs bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes, complaining about how badly he wanted to tear the clock apart.

“I'll help you. Heck, I'll tear it apart myself!” Albert said, laughing as he scooted past Rick. Albert enjoyed the chaos. It was familiar to him, comforting in a way, however odd it might seem to outsiders.

In the kitchen, Albert's mom stood with her back to him, filling the waffle maker with a fresh batch of batter. Her hair was up in a ponytail, brown curls spilling down her back. Farnsworth sat at her feet, devouring any crumbs the moment they hit the floor.

Albert swept a row of army men off his usual chair and sat down across from his other half brother, Peter. He looked similar to Albert, but he was only three, and was really scrawny for his age.

“I loooove waff-ulls,” Peter said. His face was covered in sticky syrup.

“Yeah, looks like it,” Albert laughed. “Mom, can I have a couple?”

His mom turned to look at him, a grin lighting up her face. She shared Albert's green eyes and kind smile. “Your appetite has exploded since you got back from Herman,” she said. “What on earth did your father have you doing over the summer?”

Oh, right.
That was another thing. Albert's mom, no matter how trustworthy she was, could never know about the world of the Core. She was still convinced, and would be for the rest of her life, that Albert spent his summer vacations in Herman, Wyoming, with his dad and Pap, doing all sorts of small-town things.

“Oh, you know, just boring things,” Albert said, thinking quick on his feet, “like sorting through dead letters in the town post office. And playing Tiles with Pap.”

Not out saving the world.
He hated not telling his mom the truth. But regular humans just wouldn't be able to handle the truth about the Core. If the secret got out, it would be dangerous.

“I'm just growing up, Mom,” Albert continued. “No big deal.”

It was the wrong thing to say, apparently, because Albert's mom was suddenly at his side, squeezing him in a hug that could have rivaled a wrestler's choke hold. “My little boy.” She sniffed, and Albert was
pretty
sure
she was tearing up. Moms did that kind of thing, sometimes. “Don't grow up too fast, okay?”

He patted her arm gently. “Don't worry, Mom, I'm still only in the sixth grade.”

She nodded and let Albert go, her usual smile having returned. “Well, in that case, you'd better eat three waffles.” She handed him a heaping plate, dumped a big gooey mess of syrup on top, and placed a fork in Albert's hand.

After breakfast, Albert went to Rick's office to check out
SeismologizeTHIS!
He sat down in the plush leather chair and clicked the mouse. The screen came to life, showing Albert three smiling faces of his half brothers and sister, melted ice-cream cones held in their little fists.

Albert wasn't in the picture.

“It must have been taken last summer,” he said to himself. It didn't completely upset him. He was more annoyed about being left out than any other feeling—it was the same annoyance he felt toward those gnats that liked to hang around the hot-dog stand on Fifty-Fourth Street. “Whatever.”

Albert typed in the familiar website address, and the home page popped up. There were all sorts of links to articles about the earth's tremors and waves, including historical graphs that showed their patterns over centuries. There were lots of pictures of places around the world where earthquakes had happened, showing
buildings toppled over and streets cracked in half.

Albert hadn't checked in since Thursday, and today, there was a new story. The headline, in bold black letters, read:

Abnormal Seismic Activity off the Coast of Southern California.

“Abnormal?” Albert said out loud. “There was nothing like that two days ago. . . .”

“Abnormal” sort of sounded like
Imbalance.
And that sounded like Core business. Which couldn't be good, because Albert's family was leaving for San Diego in a few days to visit their crazy great-aunt Suze for Christmas. The last thing Albert needed was his family in danger again, just like last summer, when the Realm of Calderon was out of whack.

“Here goes nothing,” Albert said. Heart racing, he clicked the article link, then scanned the paragraphs, looking for anything important.

The article interviewed a college professor named Sally Robertson, whose hair looked an awful lot like someone had dumped a bowl of overcooked noodles on her head. Albert smiled and read on.

“We've been tracking the underwater activity one hundred miles off the coast of San Diego,” Robertson said, from her office at the University of Southern California. “There's been an unprecedented number of tremors in
the Pacific, and so far we haven't been able to trace the exact cause. There's no logical explanation, but citizens need not worry. We're measuring things around the clock. . . .”

“That's abnormal, all right,” Albert said. He scanned a little farther down.

There was a map of the Pacific, with lines showing the paths the tremors followed. It sort of looked like a spider web, spreading out from a few miles offshore. Usually, something
caused
them, from way out in the sea.

But these were simply there.

Farnsworth leaped into Albert's lap and licked his chin.

“This isn't looking good, buddy,” Albert said.

Just then, a chat application on the screen popped up, showing a video call was coming in.

It was from Leroy!

Albert clicked Accept, and his best friend's face appeared.

Leroy Jones was tall for his age, with messy black hair always hidden beneath a baseball cap. He wore thick black-rimmed glasses. In the surface world, Leroy wasn't really a big reader. But in the Core, his Tile gave him wicked-smart mental skills, so Albert had
always
thought of Leroy as one of the mega-intelligent guys who would someday make millions. The glasses helped.

“Dude! What's up?” Leroy was chewing on a strawberry Pop-Tart, and there were crumbs all over his T-Rex shirt.

“Isn't it, like, five a.m. or something where you are?” Albert asked.

Leroy lived in Texas. He wasn't a cowboy, but he'd shown some pretty cool horseback riding skills back in the training Pit in the Core. “Yeah, but I needed a snack so I got up,” Leroy said. “This is dessert. And so was the bowl of ice cream I had before this.”

Just then, Birdie's call button showed up. It was practically the middle of the night where she was, but Albert couldn't blame her for not being able to sleep. He clicked her into the conversation. Birdie had crazy curly blond hair, mixed in with pink streaks, all pulled together into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder. She had an attitude that often reminded Albert of an angry cat's.

“Have you guys seen the news?” Birdie asked. Albert was pretty sure that if Birdie were standing right in front of him, she'd have her hands on her hips.

“Hello to you, too,” Leroy said, shoving another bite of Pop-Tart into his mouth. Farnsworth barked and wagged his tail at the screen. He loved Albert's friends.

“There's food on your face,” Birdie said, frowning at Leroy.