Down another hallway, he moved as commanded to the destined room. His hand shot up, opened the door, and he walked inside and shut it behind him. Erec could feel the suction from the trapdoor even before he opened it.
Please,
he thought.
Let there be a way to escape. If I’m trapped, I won’t even be able to warn my family of Baskania’s new power. I’ll never be able to say good-bye.
But his own hand reached down and yanked the trapdoor open. In a second, his entire being was sucked inside, and the door slammed shut behind him.
Spirits surrounded him. Some were walking on a surface that seemed like the ground, although Erec knew that they were far above the clouds. Most of the others, like Erec, floated, adrift. This was the end, then. He would be trapped with them forever. He remembered from reading Baskania’s thoughts—the only way for a spirit to ever leave the Hinternom was to learn to fight and accept Baskania as their
master. Erec would never do either of those things. His time was done.
It was a small consolation that he would be locked away here forever. At least when he turned evil—and that would probably be sooner than later after that experience with the scepter—he wouldn’t cause people harm. How could he have come to this end? It seemed so awful, so unfair. But he knew deep down that he deserved his fate. Everyone else here was an innocent victim. Only Erec should be imprisoned for eternity.
Floating.
Floating.
Floating.
Floating.
Floating.
It was impossible to say how much time had gone by. Erec didn’t even care. All around him, spirits were floating, drifting aimlessly and depressed. A few occasionally tried to break through the barrier of the Hinternom, beating themselves tirelessly against the borders. Others decided to take the only real route out—warfare training with the generals. These spirits were learning to use weapons, as well as fighting techniques and magic. Erec barely cared to watch or listen to what was going on. He would never swear allegiance to Baskania—or leave this place again.
As far as he knew, life on Earth had already ended. King Piter had told him once that if Baskania got ahold of the scepter—or Erec’s dragon eyes—he would destroy the world with them. If that was the case, everything might already be gone. It was too upsetting to think about.
Floating
.
Erec overheard spirits talk about how they were required to take a pill before being allowed to leave. It was a kind of assignment module that linked them into a gigantic structure commanded by Baskania. The pill made it impossible for any of the spirits to disobey.
What a nightmare,
Erec thought.
Baskania’s completely tied things up. What a mess.
Floating.
Specters whizzed through the crowd of spirits. Erec cringed when he saw them. They were what he was destined to become. Unlike the spirit trainees, the specters did their own thing, knocking crowds of spirits on their sides and banging heads together. At one point he saw a specter destroy a bunch of weapons in the hands of Spirit Warriors just as they were leaving the Hinternom. One pulled a few finished trainees back through the door just as they were about to be set free. The specters were released at odd times out from the Hinternom. Even though they were untrained, they were still given a pill so that they would be forced to follow commands. Erec hoped that he would be able to resist that pill when the time came. Ending his life as an evil specter in the servitude of his worst enemy was the worst fate he could have.
Floating.
It was getting harder to think. Erec was stuck in a deep haze of sadness and regret. But something was making him look around. What was it? He heard something. . . .
“Erec! Erec Rex!”
Someone was calling him? Who would know him here? Maybe one of the ghosts had lived in Alypium and had seen him
walking around. They probably hated him. Wasn’t worth paying attention to . . .
“Erec—I know that’s you. What are you doing here?”
The voice sounded familiar. Erec looked around again. Spirits floated in all directions, looking human in form but having no substance.
One of them drifted in front of his face. “I know that’s you, Erec. It is, isn’t it? Can you answer me?”
It was somebody that Erec did know . . . it was Spartacus Kilroy! His old friend, and his father’s prior AdviSeer. Spartacus might not have been the best AdviSeer, but he would do anything for the people he cared about. It had been awful when Spartacus died—Baskania had made it happen. He tried to give Spartacus’s soul to the Furies in trade for favors. Luckily Erec had stopped that from happening, but he wasn’t able to save Spartacus’s life.
Erec nodded, and Spartacus threw an arm around him. “I thought that was you. It was hard to tell without your eyes. . . .”
Erec forgot that he would look eyeless now that Baskania had taken them from his body. But he tried not to think about it. It was great to see a familiar face, even in this awful place. “What are
you
doing here? I thought you would be wherever spirits normally go. . . .”
Spartacus shrugged sadly. “I did too. After I saw you last, I returned to my farm and helped Artie and Kyron get squared away taking care of the mess there.” He laughed. “That was a little crazy. But I finished my goal, to get the farm taken care of. And then I just waited to go wherever spirits go. I had no idea what would happen to me next. Soon I felt someone calling me. I figured that I should follow it. And you can guess where that led me—right to Baskania’s fortress.
“When I got there, there was a long line of ghosts that had heard the summons as well. We all still thought it must be the next step
in passing from this world. Why else would so many of us be called there? So we waited patiently for our turn, with no idea that Baskania was sending us through that trapdoor into this place. He did a good job at hiding his thoughts—I didn’t know what was going on. Later, in here, I heard that a few spirits who caught on and tried to escape were captured with a silver net and dragged here anyway. Every now and then another huge dump of spirits pours in here, and I know that Baskania’s put another call out.”
Erec shook his head. “At least you have a good excuse for being here. I was stupid—I practically walked here of my own free will.” Erec told Spartacus how he had lost his soul, and then his life. “So it’s hopeless now. I’ve given Baskania everything . . . and I’m doomed to become a specter. I’ve failed completely.”
Spartacus looked overwhelmed. “I can’t believe it, Erec. I just can’t. . . .” He searched Erec’s face. “We have to figure a way out of here. I thought it was hopeless. You know how I feel about Baskania—I’ll never be his servant again. I was sure that I’d stay in here forever, until I saw you.”
“What?” Erec raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think seeing me changes that? It’s even more hopeless now . . . if that’s possible.”
“But it’s not.” Spartacus looked excited. “There are two of us. I was all alone before, but having someone on my side—now there’s hope. One thing I’ve learned from you, Erec, is that anything is possible.”
“I wish I felt that way.” Even though Erec felt terrible, he was glad to have found a connection to his past life. Kilroy was right, it seemed to give him some kind of hope. But he didn’t want to fool himself. There was no way out of this place.
Erec and Spartacus spent most of their time watching Spirit Warriors train and eventually leave the Hinternom. Talking about the past was
too painful. But even if they had nothing to share, Erec had to admit that it was nice to have a friend.
The longer they watched the others leave, the more tempting it became to do the same thing so that they could get out. Staying in the Hinternom was not just boring, it was excruciating. Every ounce of Erec wanted to continue with his mission to regain his soul. Spartacus, too, was drawn to leave and find his final resting place.
“Do you think we could fake it?” Spartacus asked. “I mean, we could do the training, learn how to use the weapons and the magic. There has to be a way to avoid swallowing that pill. If we get out of here without it, we’d be free.”
It sounded good, but how could they do it? “We have to watch exactly how the Spirit Warriors leave here, and what happens when they take the pills. Maybe we can figure out a way!” All of a sudden, it felt like the weight of the world was lifted off of Erec. Yes, he had ruined everything, even given Baskania ultimate power. But if he was released, maybe he could find a way to undo his mistake. What if he could get the scepter back somehow, and then get rid of it for good before it made him go power-mad? Then he could take the Twrch Trwyth and his eyes back, get his soul, and finish the quests. . . .
It sounded insane, and inside Erec was sure that it could never happen. Baskania was far too powerful now, and he would have the scepter with him all the time. But even if he could just escape and get his soul back . . . even if he could just say good-bye to his family . . . it would be all worthwhile.
It happened so suddenly that Erec had no time to prepare or brace himself. Instant, unbidden rage filled him to the point of explosion. He and Spartacus had been watching a training session, and for no reason at all anger hit him so intensely that he dove at one of the ghosts holding a machine gun, grabbed it, and shot round after
round through the spirit’s body. Then he broke the gun over his knee, at the same time amazed that even a ghost would have the strength to do such a thing.
Of course the bullets did not harm the spirit, but he stared at Erec in shock. The general who was instructing the group looked Erec up and down appraisingly.
Erec waited to be yelled at for interrupting a session, terrified that now he might be not allowed to train. But the general seemed oddly pleased. “What do we have here? Someone who is ready to get out and fight, I see. You’ll be a good warrior, I can tell. What is your name, spirit?”
Erec knew better than to alert anyone who he really was. A fake name was on the tip of his tongue—the one he had used in Alypium before. “It’s Rick Ross, sir. Sorry to interrupt.”
“Oh, and he’s obedient, too. Perfect. Rick, when are you going to start training?”
“Anytime, sir. My friend and I are ready to go.” He waved toward Spartacus, who saluted.
“Very good. I’ll see you both here for the next session, then.”
Erec and Spartacus drifted away. Erec was in shock. What had happened back there? Obviously this was the first step on his way to becoming an evil specter. Soon it would be out of his control completely. He had to get out of here and finish his mission before it was too late. Once he became a specter, he would serve Baskania and stay evil forever.
Spartacus looked worried, but he wisely held his tongue and changed the subject. “I’m ready to do this. And I have an idea about avoiding the pill. Take a look.” He led Erec to the bottom of the Hinternom where Spirit Warriors were leaving. They waited in line, then took turns going up to the general in charge. The general would check them off of a list, and then give each one a pill. Once it was
swallowed, the general draped a red sash over the spirit’s shoulder. The spirit would then get in a second line and wait to be discharged through the heavily guarded exit.
“What happens if a spirit sneaks through the guards and darts out of the exit?” Erec asked. “I doubt that they could stop me if I really tried.”
“Don’t do it. I’ve seen it happen again and again. One of us breaks through, and surprise—nobody stops him. But instead of escaping through the tunnel, they scream and melt away into nothing. They say it’s the red sashes that let us get through unharmed.”
They watched a while longer. Spartacus said, “The pills enter spirits and stick in them, making them follow commands forever. I was thinking—there are pipes that go into the generals’ quarters. All of the supplies come out of those pipes, like the guns and the pills. I’ve watched them a long time to see if the sashes come out of there too, in case I might be able to steal one. But I can’t find them anywhere. But I think the pipes themselves could help us, though. We could take bits and push them into our throats and out our backs. If we drop the pill straight into the pipe, it would slide through and out without even touching us. I don’t know if it would work, but it’s the best I can come up with.”
“That’s fantastic!” Erec was amazed. “That sounds like a great idea! We’d have to make sure the pill went right into the pipe and didn’t touch our mouth. What a great idea, Spartacus. Let’s try it.”
Neither of them could wait one more second. They flew straight to the generals’ quarters, and Spartacus showed Erec where pipes of different sizes emptied into the Supply Building. “Here they are. I’m not sure how hard the pipe will be to rip off.”
Erec remembered how easily he had just torn a machine gun in two. “Let me try it.” In a moment he had broken off two segments of pipe, each about five inches wide and a foot long. He handed one
to Spartacus. Even though he knew that solid objects could not hurt him, the idea of sticking that huge thing through his neck and back seemed awful.
But Spartacus had already done it. “Look, it’s easy!” His voice was not affected by the huge piece of metal wedged behind his mouth. “Just push it through, and move it where you want it. I can hold this thing still inside of me—it feels the same as if I was holding it with my hand.”
Erec positioned the pipe so that the end just barely stuck out of his back, under his shirt. “Wow! It’s not hard to make it stay there at all. Let’s see, here . . .” He dropped the thing with his body, and it clattered to the ground. “Interesting.” Erec put the pipe back through his face and hid it under his skin. “Looks like there is still gravity here. It’s hard to tell, since we’re always floating.”
“Same as on Earth.” Spartacus nodded.
“It just seems different here. I guess it’s because there is nothing but a platform where the Spirit Warriors train, and everyone else is floating.”
Spartacus fished a bullet out of his pocket and opened his mouth. He dropped it straight into the pipe and then smiled. A moment later, he lifted the back of his shirt up, and the bullet dropped out onto the clear force-field floor of the Hinternom. “Looks to me like it works!”