The PriZin of Zin (28 page)

Chapter 43: Temptation

temp·ta·tion
[temp-tey-sh
uh
n]
noun;
the act of tempting; enticement or allurement; the fact or state of being tempted, especially to evil

“Where are my manners?” the puppet master gloated. “Release them.”

Hunter, Ian, and Aeryn were thrown unceremoniously to the ground. Three puppet guards clacked around them and stood at attention, back against the rock wall at the outskirts of the room.

“Perhaps violence isn’t really necessary. We’re all intelligent souls, right?” He ambled around the well in the center of the room, to the side where the three were sprawled on the hard volcanic floor. He squatted, peering into their eyes. “You’re scared. That’s good.” Seating himself next to them, he smiled. “I can teach you.”

“Teach us what?” Hunter asked.

“Everything!” He doodled on the ground with his wooden finger. “I can teach you how to do magic.”

“Magic?” Hunter asked.

The puppet nodded. “You see, I know you had help getting here. I know each one of you failed on your own.” He looked at Hunter, Ian, and Aeryn, one by one, and went on. “How would you like to never have to depend on anyone ever again? You could be as great as me. You don’t need anybody or anything. Why, just think of it! The possibilities are endless!” He laughed that shrill laugh again. “No parents telling you what to do. No ‘helpers’ making you go through endless tests. Oh, yes,” his wooden eyes glistened. “I know all about those weaklings. They didn’t help you at all did they? Noooo. But I can.”

“How?” Ian scooted a little closer.

“Simple.” The word came out as a simple whisper. “Just promise the rest of your life to me.”

“What?” Hunter leapt to his feet.

“Now, now. It’s not as bad as it sounds, Master Hunter.” Puppet scooted over nose-to-nose with him. “The only catch is— and it’s so minor it’s hardly worth mentioning— but when I call upon you, you must respond. That’s all. The rest of your time in all eternity belongs to you. You can do whatever you want, to whomever you want. There are no more rules.” Clacking wooden arms spread wide. “You will share all of the same powers that I do. You can ‘lead’ your own band of misfits and miscreants. You have the brains to do it, too. You three are the smartest pris—, ah, guests I’ve had in a long, long time. Whaddya say?”

“We say no!” Aeryn was on her feet now. “We didn’t have to promise anything to anybody out there, and the Commander helped me, just because He loves me. All I had to do was call out to Him. No strings attached. He did it all. You are a liar, and a cheat. You are not to be trusted and we won’t promise anything to you!”

Hunter and Ian joined her, toe-to-toe with the wooden creature.

A nod was his only response. They were seized again from behind by the puppet guards. Forced to the ground for a second time, they were again powerless.

“Now I’ve got you.” The giant puppet’s voice echoed from the dark walls of the oubliette and laughed. “You have
not
chosen wisely.”

“You can’t win,” Hunter snapped, his anger rising once again.

“Oh, I can’t win?” The puppet laughed a haunting shrill that chilled the three to their very core. “I can’t win?” he said again. A disjointed puppet arm flew from its body, striking Hunter squarely across the face and knocking him to the ground. Aeryn screamed and stepped back, only to be thrust forward and over the top of her brother piled on the floor, skinning her hands. She began to cry. Ian, grabbed by the hair, was dragged across the room and forced to his knees in front of the open well, head dangling dangerously over the side, teetering on the edge of the dark abyss.

“I
CAN
win!” the puppet screamed, contorted face changing into the head of the snarling deer that had pursued Hunter in his journey. “And I
WILL
win!” this time twisting into the face of a sea serpent. “Because I
NEVER
lose!” screamed the giant Spatz. Laughter again settled the puppet back to his jointed wooden being. “You see, I have been with you every single step of the way. I know what you have. I know what you know. And, most importantly, I know what you
don’t
know.” The puppet sauntered over to the children cowering on the floor, pausing at Ian’s side. He calmed slightly. “Okay, let’s be honest here. Yes, this great Commander, or Great Spirit— whatever you want to call Him— has great powers, even rivaling that of my own.” A snarl forced its way onto his crudely painted lips. “And I guess you could say that He loves you, in His own way. Ways that you and I will never understand. But why yoke yourself to another for all eternity? I mean, if He wants you to call on Him in order to be saved from yourself, what fun is that? Here I am giving you all the power for yourself. No middle man! Just think of it, young friends. Every ounce of power coming from within you, whenever you need it, and to do whatever you want. Pure magic. Whaddya say?”

The three remained silent.

“Nothing?” Red eyes glared at Ian.  “You can be great, like me.”

“You don’t have a chance,” Ian ground out from between gritted teeth.

“And what you don’t know,” the puppet snapped back, “is that you cannot possibly win against me.” He laughed again. “Oh, it’s not your fault. I’m just too—,” he hesitated a second admiring his reflection in the water of the well, “—great. Do you believe me, boy?” He winked at his reflection in the water and then smiled at himself. The reflection smiling back was that of a red diamond head, horned, with razor-sharp teeth.

“No.” The second the words left Hunter’s mouth, a giant wooden foot slammed into his mid-section.

“You will!” the puppet screeched with the shrill of the Spatz. “YOU WILL!”

Hunter was in agony, rolling on the floor holding his stomach, coughing and retching. Aeryn tried to wrap her arms around him to try to protect him, but she couldn’t reach. The wooden foot recoiled to strike again. Before it could hit its mark, a huge hairy brown flash from behind knocked the giant puppet guard to the floor. It realigned its appendages and stood, turning to face an angry Bigfoot, snarling and growling with a ferocity that stunned the room. A single blinding blow sent Mikey hurtling into the cold stone walls, landing with an ear-piercing yelp and thud. He slid down the wall leaving a trail of blood behind his head, landing in a motionless heap on the floor. The puppet again rounded on its prey, one step closer to the children, but then froze.

The growl started low. From behind, they could hear the snarling once more. The room looked back to see Mikey begin to stand from a bloodied heap on the cold stone floor. The guttural growl now took on an unearthly tone—deep gnarling thunder reverberated off the stone walls and shook the room. Bigfoot slowly stood to a height twice what he previously had been. Elongated snout, fangs bared and sharpened claws out, he hunched over, hair raised down to the tip of his spine. Nerves raw and senses sharp, he opened his mouth and barked with a force that knocked every living thing to the ground. He continued to grow to an unimaginable height, and from behind, a set of shimmering sterling silver wings unfurled and flapped themselves free, releasing a long glistening sword, engraved with a single word. JUSTICE.

“Michael, my old friend,” the puppet said. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you sooner. You’ve changed.”

Another ear shattering bark was the reply, knocking the room to the ground a second time.  Michael the Warrior began to circle the room. Deep purple eyes, narrowed and glaring, held a tension so intense the room could feel it.

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that,” the puppet said, laughing as he tried to untangle his arms and legs to stand again. “At my age, it isn’t always so easy to get up.”

Mikey rounded on him and barked again, blowing back the hair glued to the puppet’s painted wooden head. 

“And might you be Raphael?” Puppet looked up at the Iron Ranger now hovering over the heads of the hostages. A nod was his only answer. He grew in both color and size, morphing into a creature both frightening and dazzling at the same time. Covered in shining armor from head to toe, iron wings flapping, he descended to the floor next to Aeryn. Electricity sparked and crackled around him, charging the room. Across his glistening chest he bore a single engraved word. HEALING. 

“Ryder?” Aeryn whispered. A nod was her answer.

“And where is my old friend, Gabriel?” the puppet asked, unfazed, looking back at Michael. “I don’t often expect to see one without the other.”

Ian, still dangling precariously over the edge of the well, screamed and jerked back against the force holding his head down. He slid down the outside of the well skinning the side of his face, jerking back when the floor exploded out from under where he had just been. Up through the cavernous hole flew Nestor, but not Nestor. Like Michael, he had transformed into a fierce warrior. Towering over Michael and the others, Gabriel’s massive and muscular frame could barely be contained under the ceiling of the dungeonous room.  An elongated snout bared the scissor-like teeth of a carnivore, dripping with saliva. His long tail, nine jagged barbs on the tips, whipped around and slammed into the stone wall, ripping down bricks and mortar with the talon-like tips. He, too, hunched over, revealing an equally blazing set of sterling silver wings and glowering royal purple eyes. On his sword as well, a single word; TRUTH. Gabriel circled the room the opposite way from where Michael was, cornering their prey in the dungeon opposite the children. Rearing back, he inhaled so deep he nearly sucked the room into a vacuum with his enormous lung capacity. Extending his neck out flat and head low to the ground, Gabriel let out an earth-shattering roar, unrivaled by that of any dinosaur that had ever walked before. From his mouth blew searing flames, scorching everything in its path. Raphael covered the children with his metal wings.

Puppet, flaming head and hair burned to a crisp, giggled again. “Let the games begin.”

“Run!” Out the last door and up the darkened stairway, Raphael led the children now under his sole protection. Flying overhead, toward the battle raging on behind them, flew a multitude of winged creatures from every species, known and unknown. The floor rumbled and shook beneath their feet, the force causing the walls to disintegrate. Raphael’s iron wings again shot out, protecting his charges from the crumbling walls. Rocks and wooden beams bounced from his solid metal frame.

“Earthquake!” Ian yelled.

“That’s not an earthquake,” Raphael shot back over his shoulder as they ran through the dark, dank stairwell. “It’s a battle for your souls.”