The PriZin of Zin (27 page)

Chapter 41: Game

game
[geym]
noun
; a competitive activity involving skill, chance, or endurance of two or more persons who play according to a set of rules.

The three crept through the open door. It slammed shut behind them. Aeryn, Hunter, and Ian all stood huddled close to one another. The blackness spoke.

“Do you want to see some magic?”

SCREEEEECHHHHHHH.              

A high-pitched squeal like nails scraping down a chalkboard pierced the darkness. A quick whiff of sulfur wafted by, and the darkness sprang to life. At the end of a long stone hallway dangled a puppet holding a long matchstick.

“Let there be light,” it laughed, in a mocking tone. It extended a jointed wooden arm toward the three still huddled by the door, the match head pointed directly at them like a microphone. “Come in,” the puppet beckoned. “Welcome to your new home.” His arm swirled above his head like a flaming halo, flinging sparks as it swirled. Those sparks each splattered against the dark walls, bringing to light even more puppets holding matchsticks. There were dozens of them.

Aeryn recoiled against the two boys. Round wooden heads, brightly painted with glowering eyes and wicked smiles, stared down at them from every angle of the cave. Each one held out a long wooden blazing match head from a jointed wooden arm, legs dangling beneath them, a plethora of knotted strings holding each one in its unnatural hanging pose.

“Come in,” the main puppet urged again. “I am so pleased you have finally made it. We have been waiting for you.”

“Waiting for us?” Hunter asked.

“Why, yes, of course.”

“Who are you?”

“Where are my manners? I do apologize. I am the proprietor of this establishment. These are my ‘friends’,” he said, pointing at the other puppets adorning the walls.

“What’s your name?” Hunter ventured again.

“Umm. Well, that’s a bit complicated,” the puppet replied. “I have many names. You can just call me, ‘Sir’.”

“Sir,” Hunter took a slight step forward, “we saw some others being brought in here earlier, and I was wondering—“

“Oh yes, yes! Yes!” The gangly creature leapt from the wall, leaving behind its strings. It moved under its own power now, toward the trio at the door. The shrill laughter had a sharp giddy edge to it, and the painted face illuminated its sheer delight through the dancing flames. “They, too, are my guests, although they didn’t wander in so easily. We helped them along, so to speak.”

“Please,” Aeryn spoke up. “One of them is our father. We need to see him.”

“And so you shall, little Princess. And so you shall. There are just a few housekeeping items we need to attend to first.”

“Housekeeping?” Ian asked.

“You could say so.” The puppet danced with excitement, inching closer to the three. “It’s just a formality, really. Nothing to worry about.”

“What kind of formality?” Hunter’s tone grew sharp. His keen senses began to sniff danger. The little hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and his nerves turned sharp.

“Let’s call it, sort of registration. Like when you begin a new school year— except there is no more school in here. From now on, life will be nothing but fun and games.”

“Fun and games?” Hunter’s arm instinctively pushed his sister behind him.

A bright, white, wooden, toothy smile glittered at them. “Uh, huh. Forever and ever. I promise.”

Ian stepped up, shoulder-to-shoulder with Hunter, shielding Aeryn behind them with their bodies. “What’s the catch?”

“Catch?” The puppet feigned a hurtful expression, but quickly replaced it with the toothy smile. “More like some fine print, for sure, but let’s not dawdle. We have lots to do. Come,” he turned and walked down the long hallway and around the corner. “Come, come now. Lots of business to take care of before all of the festivities later tonight.”

“Festivities?” Aeryn whispered.

The toothy smile shot back around the corner. “Yes, yes. Tonight we’re having an— ummm— well, initiation, I guess. Yes, that’s it. An initiation into our very own private club. Very exclusive. Coveted, in fact. If we hurry, you can all join with Morgan, too. Kind of a family affair. Yes, yes. Come. NOW!”

The puppet disappeared again, leaving the three to follow.

“Come. Come, children. We don’t have a lifetime— or do we? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…”

The puppets hanging against the walls clattered and shook. They looked as though they were trying to laugh, but no sound came out. Their stares, however, followed the three young friends into a great cavernous room. It, too, was lined with burning puppets on all sides. Their leader stood in the middle.

I’ve got them now. All three are mine, just like their useless father.

“Where are we?” Hunter’s eyes took in his surroundings. In the middle of the rock room was a well spring. Circular stones built up thick sides about three feet tall, keeping the bubbling warm water contained. Around the sides of the room were four doors, with a darkened hallway at the far end. Scattered around the room was everything from pebbles to boulders. Dense black onyx, silver ore, and glistening opaque quartz gems littered the floor. Hunter scanned the room from one side to the other. “Where do the doors lead?”

“Oh, come now,” the puppet laughed. “Surely you’ve played this game before. You choose the right answer and you get what you want. Choose wrong, and— well, let’s just say, I win.”

“What kind of game are you playing here?” Ian barked.

“Where’s my father?” Aeryn demanded.

The puppet master clacked around the rocks and stood in the center of the room. “I guess you could call this the game of ‘Life’,” he giggled through wooden teeth and cherry painted cheeks. “But one question at a time, young friends. This,” the puppet said, grinning and spreading his stick figure wide, “is Zin.”

“Zin?” Hunter asked. “What is a Zin?”

“Zin is not a thing, young Hunter. It is a place.”

“Looks like cave to me.”

“Ahhh, yes, Master Ian. To the untrained eye, that would be so. But you must look deeper to see what is here.”

“So, what kind of place is it?” Ian reached down to pick up a black rock, but it skittered across the cave floor away from him, untouched.

“It is a place of great fantasy and wonder, and a place of nothingness. It is neither here, nor there. It is something, yet it is nothing. A place of transition. Here is where you will decide your future.”

“Huh?” Ian scratched his head.

“Zin is whatever you want it to be. Think of it like a custom-made playground. You choose what you want, where you will go, and it will be given to you. And to question number two, Mistress Aeryn, your father is here. He has chosen to stay with us.” The puppet gritted its wooden teeth together. “Forever.”

“What?” It was nearly a shriek.

“Well, almost. His time to make his choice is close.” Seeing her distress, he smiled. “Fear not, young child. You can follow in his footsteps, as well. We can all be together forever, one big happy family. And now to the games—”

“What if I don’t want to play?” Ian glanced around the room for a reaction from the smaller puppets, but there was none.

“Then I win by default, young man. Because, you see, you have already entered my domain. The only way out is if I allow it. So right now, you all belong to me.”

Aeryn inched closer to the other two.

“Now I am a sporting man, of sorts. I will allow you an opportunity to see your father. You can even try to ‘rescue’ him, if you like. But first, a simple test.”

“What kind of test?” Hunter asked.

“To see if you are worthy to stay in my little kingdom. It’s simple, really. Around you are four doors. Do not concern yourselves with the one directly behind you. It is merely a storage closet for supplies. It will be of no consequence to you. The other three are your test. Choose the right way out, and I will let you
and
your father go free. But choose wrong, and you will all be my prisoners, forever. You see, life is all about choices.”

Before the puppet master had finished the last words, chains began to rattle and bang against the cave’s walls. The three looked around. No longer were there puppets lighting the way. Now, the walls were lined with prisoners— people chained to the walls, hanging in misery, their weeping eyes a testament to the suffering that filled them on the inside. Aeryn gasped, clutching the first arm that was handy.

“Yes, it is a sad thing,” the puppet master said. “They did not choose well. Let this be a warning to you. You have but one chance, and one chance only. Use it well.” He laughed again, a high-pitched, shrill laugh that sent palpable shivers down their spines. Then he spun on his wooden heels and disappeared, dousing the room in a choking, thick blackness.

They’re mine!

Chapter 42: Deceive

de·ceive:
[dih-seev]
verb,

to mislead by a false appearance or statement; delude; to be unfaithful to another.

SCREEEEEECCCCCHHHHH

Sulfur wafted through the drafty air again, and the room erupted in a hazy glow. Above the first door, a lone hanging prisoner dangled, holding a long, burning, matchstick. The door beneath him creaked open. Aeryn gasped.

“Don’t move.” Hunter blocked the entrance. His keen senses on edge, nerves raw, they peered through the doorway and into a dense forest.

“Dad’s in there. I can feel it.” She was pleading.

“No. It’s a trick. Wait here.” Hunter turned and ran to the door behind them— the storeroom door. Flinging it open, he disappeared inside.

“What does he think he’s doing in there?” Ian shook his head and turned back to the open door at hand.

“Help!” The word flew at them from the thick wood. “Ian! Aeryn! Is that you?”

“Yes, Dad.” Aeryn lunged forward, but Ian threw out his arms to block her.

“Wait.”

“But he’s in there, Ian. We have to rescue him.”

“Hunter said it might be a trick. We should wait for him.”

Through the trees, a small rustle began.

“What’s that smell?” Aeryn recoiled at the odor. “It’s like mucky, wet dog.”

The rustle turned into a crash. There stood Morgan.

“Dad!” Aeryn’s voice neared a frantic level. “I’m coming.”

“Hurry,” Morgan plead. “Something’s after me.”

“HAAAAAA!”

Aeryn and Ian jumped at the sound behind them. Hunter leapt from the darkened storage closet. Stripped down to his under shorts, giant mask on his head, he was painted like an Indian warrior. Wooden sticks protruded from his head like the antlers of a deer. “Don’t move,” he ordered. “Danger is near.” Hunter stepped back in front of the door, in front of the other two.

“Hunter,” Morgan called. “I can see you, son. You’re the only one who can save me from the predator.”

Hunter eyed the surroundings, spotting areas that were rustling.

“Hunter. I need you. Come now.”

Moving leaves parted and three rabid-looking deer emerged. Lips snarling, saliva foaming, and nostrils flaring, they all circled Morgan in the woods.

“Hunter!”

Ian wrapped his arms around Aeryn, holding her tight. Hunter raised his clenched fist, and waited.

The predators circled. Morgan shook, spinning around, trying to keep an eye on them, never letting one get behind him. His eyes teared, and a sob escaped.

Hunter remained stone-like, arm poised, senses sharp.

Morgan turned again, pleading red eyes boring into Hunter’s soul.

The arm swung, releasing the stone. It whistled through the air, hitting its mark with deadly accuracy. Striking right between the eyes, Morgan fell to the ground with a blood-curdling scream.

“Daddy!” Aeryn tried to wrench herself from Ian’s grip, but he held tight.

The human heap slumped on the ground giggled. It shook with laughter, dissolving into the ground. The room went dark.

“Well done, young Hunter,” the puppet master’s voice boomed from the darkness behind them. “Perhaps this was not the right choice for you.”

Scraping and scratching sounds surrounded them. “Where’re your clothes, man?” Ian asked.

“In the storeroom.”

“Well, put ‘em back on, dude. This is a little weird.”

“Ok, as soon as I can see again.”

SCCCRRREEEEECCCHHHH

Another waft of sulfur, and a second match lit, followed by a second open door.

Cheers and jeers escaped from the second door and bellowed out into the great room outside. Ian was the first to the door jamb. There, inside the room was a half circle of cheering, jeering men, egging on a fight in the middle. Two men slugged it out, pummeling each other to a bloody pulp for the entertainment of the crowd. The half circle surrounding them threw down money, placing bets on who would win, or even survive the match.

They were on what appeared to be a ship. Water separated the three in the doorway from the men on the ship’s deck. One fighter was obviously winning, and one losing. The losing man was on his knees, back to the door. He tried, over and over again, to rise to his feet, but time and time again he was pummeled back down. The crowd refused to help, cheering instead for his opponent.

“I’ll give 500-to-1 odds that Morgan Welch will battle back and win! Who’s a taker here?”

Another blow spun the man on the ground around to face the door. There the kids all looked into the black and blue, bloodied face of Morgan Welch.

“Dad!” Hunter dove for the door, but stopped when he saw the water separating them from the ship’s deck.

“No!” Ian jumped in. “It’s a trick.”

“They’re beating him up,” Aeryn sobbed. “We have to do something.”

“Help him!” Hunter screamed

“No!” Ian still blocked the door.

“You’re a coward!” Hunter shoved Ian toward the door. Ian grasped the door jamb and held on tight.

“That’s not your dad! It’s a trick!” he screamed back. “It’s a trick.” The slight pause in Hunter’s anger was all Ian needed. “This is not a battle we can win. They’re trying to divide us. The only way we can get your dad out is if we all stick together. We have to stay calm and keep a level head. Don’t let your anger get the best of you. We should only fight the battles we can win. Please, Hunter,” Ian pleaded.

The ship and water both disappeared in an angry flash. The room was again doused in darkness.

SCCCRRREEEEECCCCHHHHH

The room flared into bright light again and the third door was already open.

“Aeryn? Hunter? Ian? Where are you? I came to take you home.” It was a soft, sweet, woman’s voice this time. A familiar voice.

“Mom?” Aeryn’s feathers ruffled. She half-ran, half-flew to the last open door. Inside, was the smiling image of her mother, just the way Aeryn had remembered her these long nights here in this strange underworld. She was wearing Aeryn’s favorite red dress, and had her hair pulled back into a pony tail, like she always did on the days she worked around the house. Tears sprang to Aeryn’s eyes, and she choked back a sob. Until this very minute, she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her mother since this whole ordeal had begun.

A loving maternal hand reached toward the children. “Come. I will help you find your dad. Then we can all go home together.”

“I can’t do that, Momma.”

“Yes, you can, sweetheart.”

“No, I can’t.” She was openly weeping now.

“Why ever not, my sweet baby? Don’t you trust your own mother?”

“Yes, absolutely I do.” Her resolve strengthened now. Swallowing hard and wiping the tears away from her eyes, Aeryn looked back into the room. “But you’re not her.”

The picture of love took on a ghostly appearance. The face scrunched up into an angry snarl. “Come here right now!” it barked, echoing off the cave walls. “I mean it. Don’t make me come over there, or you’ll all be sorry!”

Aeryn turned to the two boys, all standing with their mouths open. “This is not the right room. We can’t trust her. She’s not our mom.”

“NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!” The ear-piercing scream shattered the darkness. The three threw their hands up and covered their ears. The walls shook and the floor rumbled beneath their feet. Boulders shifted and pebbles shot from one end of the room to the other. The darkness flashed with bolts of brilliance, and the puppet master dropped back into the middle of the dimly-lit room.

Around them, the puppet-like humans hung from the walls, holding their burning match-sticks.

“You - must - choose - one,” he said pointedly, enunciating each and every word, trying to contain his rising anger.

“No,” Hunter said. “That was never the rule. You said we must choose wisely.” He swallowed hard. “We choose none.”

Rage glared from the puppet master’s painted wooden eyes. His anger bored into them and seared on their minds. “Then you shall pay the price for your indecision.” The wooden arms clattered, flinging wide. “Seize them!” he commanded.