We Dine With Cannibals (27 page)

On the opposite side of the room, leaning upright on a shelf was a single scroll.

THEIR MOTHER
and Sir Edmund looked across at the scroll, then at each other. They stood frozen for a moment and then both of them took off, sprinting in opposite directions, leaving Oliver and Celia dumbfounded. The two explorers raced around the library to get to the scroll, just like Oliver and Celia raced to get to the remote control.

Their mother would have won easily, but she tripped on a crumbling step and lost valuable time. They arrived at the scroll at the same moment and both of them grabbed for it. Oliver and Celia watched from a distance as Sir Edmund and their mother played an angry game of tug of war with the ancient document.

“Let go,” muttered Sir Edmund. “You'll tear it.”

“You'll never get it,” said Claire Navel, trying to kick the little man away.

“Who could have stolen a whole library?” Oliver wondered as they watched. “Janice McDermott and the fake Corey Brandt?”

“They couldn't have done this,” said Celia. “They were only a few hours ahead of us.”

“What do you think that scroll is?” Oliver asked.

“I dunno,” said Celia, “but I guess we should go help Mom.”

“Stay right where you are!” a woman's voice demanded. They turned and saw Janice McDermott and the fake Corey Brandt standing right behind them. The celebrity impersonator had his gun pointed at them. “We never would have found our way in without your help,” said Janice. “Thank you.”

Oliver and Celia looked at each other. This is just what Janice's old partner, Frank, had done—tricked them into guiding him in Tibet and then left them to perish in a dark cave. They had outsmarted him and fed him to an abominable snowwoman. It was a pretty nasty situation and they would have preferred to forget all about it. That
is the trouble with having enemies. Getting rid of them usually just makes more enemies. Anyway, there were no abominable snowpeople in the Amazon.

“And you two!” Janice called out. “Don't move or we'll shoot the children!”

Sir Edmund and their mother stopped tugging on the scroll and looked back toward the twins. They froze, but neither of them let go. Oliver and Celia went pale—paler than they already were. Why were people always threatening to kill them?

“Janice,” Sir Edmund called out. “I have no quarrel with you. Shoot the children if you must, but perhaps we can work out a deal? I am willing to pay very handsomely for—”

“Ahh!” the fake Corey Brandt screamed, falling over into Janice. Oliver and Celia spun around to see what was happening.

“Beverly!” Oliver shouted as the lizard jumped onto the fake Corey Brandt's face.

“Run!” their mother shouted. Oliver and Celia bolted off toward their mother as she snatched the scroll from a distracted Sir Edmund.

“Hey!” he shouted as she raced toward her kids.
Sir Edmund tried to give chase, but shots rang out as the fake Corey Brandt fired at him. He ducked down and put his hands over his head. Their mother pulled Oliver and Celia down the stairs and into another large chamber.

“After them!” yelled Janice.

The impostor ran across a bridge and leaped onto the stairs below. He rushed through the archway into the next room and saw the Navels running up the stairs on the opposite side.

The giant room looked exactly like the one they had just left, with the empty shelves, the fireflies, and the reflecting pool at the bottom. The twins turned into another archway but slammed into a mirror.

“It's a trick,” said Oliver. “This place is like a fun house.”

“Some fun,” said Celia. The mirror reflected the room back at itself and made it seem like it led into another giant chamber. There were dozens of archways all over the room, and now they didn't know which ones actually led to another room and which ones were illusions.

Corey fired his gun at them again. He missed,
but shattered the mirror. Behind it was a stone wall.

“That's bad luck!” shouted Oliver as they turned and ran across another bridge toward another opening into another giant room, identical to the others.

“What is this place?” Celia wondered.

“This way,” their mother said, running up the stairs, searching for openings that might lead to a way out. Sometimes they ran into a mirror, sometimes they found another room. They popped out of one archway high above Sir Edmund, who was backing slowly away from Janice McDermott.

“I can help you get the Navels! I can help you avenge Frank Pfeffer!” he was saying. “No need to do something you can't take back. …”

Beverly came running along the wall to join the Navels. She was holding the snack cake Oliver had given her, still wrapped in its plastic.

“We have to rescue Sir Edmund,” said Celia. “Then we can trade him the scroll for Dad's antidote.”

“We can't let him get this scroll,” their mother said.

“Seriously, Mom?” snapped Celia.

“What's so important about that scroll?” asked Oliver.

“Well, honey,” their mother said. “This is Plato's Map.”

“All this is about Play-Doh?” said Oliver, shocked.

“Plato.” Celia rolled her eyes. “He was an ancient Greek philosopher.”

“That's right,” said their mother. “And he wrote the first description we have of the lost kingdom of—”

“Where'd you go, Navels?” the fake Corey Brandt shouted from below as he searched for them. They all ducked; even Beverly pressed her neck low against the floor.

“Mom? Oliver?” whispered Celia. “Maybe we can save the explanations for another time? We need to get out of here. Dad's still lying poisoned in the boat and we need to rescue Sir Edmund and get the antidote from him one way or another.”

“Agreed,” said their mother. “I'm just not sure how.”

“I have an idea,” said Oliver, gently taking the
snack cake from Beverly and tearing open the wrapper.

“I told you that's just a myth,” said Celia.

“Myths have to come from somewhere,” he said as he tossed the cake over the railing. Sir Edmund and Janice McDermott turned and watched it fall. It hit the water with a
plop
.

Then nothing happened.

“Told you,” said Celia.

“Why are you throwing cakes?” Janice shouted. The fake Corey Brandt ran out onto the bridge below them, panting.

“Hey!” he shouted up.

He raised his pistol, but he never fired it. The room started to shake. The pool of water below bubbled and churned. Suddenly a spout of water shot straight up and smashed into the bridge, knocking the impersonator off his feet.

Another waterspout erupted and tore the bridge right off the wall. Soon, spouts were shooting from the water with the force of a hundred fire hoses, tearing off chunks of stairs and shattering mirrors. Janice fell over. The water started rising.

“Remind me not to let you eat those cakes anymore,”
their mother said. She tucked the scroll into her waistband, grabbed the twins' hands, and rushed back toward the way they came in. Sir Edmund ran after them.

“Wait for me!” he shouted.

“Come back here!” Janice called, trying to stand up. Another spout of water knocked her down again. The stairs behind Sir Edmund crumbled. They were crumbling faster than he could run.

“Help!” he called out, leaping into the air as the stone beneath him disappeared.

Celia was the first to react. She let go of her mother and dove back, catching Sir Edmund by the wrist. Oliver grabbed on to Celia around the waist so she didn't fall.

Oliver and Celia were sliding, unable to keep Sir Edmund up.

“Help!” Celia called out. Their mother grabbed on to her children and they all pulled Sir Edmund up together. He tried to snatch the scroll out of her waistband, but she slapped his hand away and pinned his arms behind his back.

“Let's go,” she told Oliver and Celia as she dragged Sir Edmund down the hall they'd first come through. Beverly raced ahead. The vine was still rising up through the quicksand and the lizard scurried up.

“Climb,” their mother told them. Water was rushing down the hall and knocking into their legs, getting deeper by the second.

Celia caught Oliver to keep him from falling over.

“You go first,” she said. This time Oliver didn't object. He grabbed the vine and climbed, holding his breath when he got to the sand and using all the strength he had left to hoist himself up through it. Celia followed him.

“And you,” their mother said to Sir Edmund, wheeling around him once she saw her children were safe. “You'll give me that antidote right now.”

“Give me the scroll.”

“Give me the antidote!”

“We don't have time to argue,” Sir Edmund shouted, already up to his waist in water. “Your husband will die if you leave me down here.”

Claire Navel hesitated. She looked at Sir Edmund and then up at the way her children had gone. The water kept rising.

“Fine,” she said at last. “But this isn't over.”

“Of course it isn't.” Sir Edmund sneered as he took the scroll with one hand. Claire snatched the antidote and climbed the vine.

Sir Edmund grabbed on behind her as the water filled the underground chamber.

There was no sign of the fake Corey Brandt or of Janice McDermott.

WHEN THEIR MOTHER
and Sir Edmund burst through the surface of the quicksand, Oliver and Celia were catching their breath on the ground. The sand bubbled as water churned in the space below. The children saw that Sir Edmund had the scroll.

“I'm sorry,” said Oliver. “I'm sorry I destroyed the library and that you lost your Plato scroll.”

“You saved us all, Oliver,” their mother said. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sir Edmund chuckled. Oliver ignored him.

“Now that the library is gone, though,” he said, “will you come home?”

“Oh, that's priceless!” Sir Edmund laughed. He looked at their mother. “He thinks you'll come home. He thinks it's over!”

Oliver's mother glared at Sir Edmund. She turned back to Oliver.

“Honey, it's not just about the library,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” Celia demanded.

The earth shook before she could answer.

“I don't think we should stay here,” their mother said.

“You've got to come home!” said Oliver. “You said you would!”

The ground quaked and twisted, but Oliver and Celia stood, unmoving, staring at their mother.

“Guys,” she said. “I will come home, I promise, but—”

“There's always a but, isn't there?” Sir Edmund laughed. “A big but!”

The ground shook and knocked him off his feet. He fell backward into the pool of quicksand. “Help! Help!” he shouted, flailing his arms, the scroll waving in the air above his head.