The Secret of Ashona (33 page)

“Spartacus can get me anywhere. We’ll see you soon.”

Erec had never been to Paris, so Spartacus took him early. The Champs-Élysées was beautiful. Tall, manicured trees and beautiful parks lined the wide street, which led into spacious areas of upscale shops and restaurants. Erec didn’t realize that he was hungry until he looked through the window of a pastry shop at the éclairs and intricately shaped tarts. They looked too beautiful to eat. He reached into his pocket only to remember that he had no money at all. He hadn’t even brought his magical Serving Tray for food. Of course, as a ghost it had not been an issue.

Reading his mind, Spartacus managed to find a fat chocolate éclair which appeared in Erec’s hand as he was walking. After almost two hours of sightseeing, Erec arrived in front of the biggest building in the city, one that rivaled Notre Dame in its splendor. It was
La Place des Yeux du Monde
—or Eyes of the World Place, Baskania’s headquarters for his United Nations–based global political party and its campaign for world peace.

A street vendor outside of its tall carved wood doors flipped crepes on wide metal disks. He cut bananas and sprinkled powdered sugar and chocolate over the tops of the light fluffy desserts. Erec’s mouth watered—he grew hungrier by the minute—so he walked closer. The smell was wonderful. But the voice of the vendor caught him off guard. It was definitely not Parisian—in fact the man had a distinct New York accent. And his voice sounded familiar.

“Next!” he shouted in English. “Get yer crepes here. Real Paris-type crepes, perfect for all youse French types. Come and get it.”

Erec moved closer to get a look at the vendor. He was short and balding, with oiled black hair. For a moment he stared at Erec and then a look of recognition popped onto his wide face. “Erec Rex! Unbelievable. What are you doing in front of . . . dis place?”

Erec saw the man’s fingers graze a small metal lever under a cloth on the cart. Then his memory clicked. This was the hot dog vendor
who had worked in front of Grand Central Station in New York. Erec remembered his name at once—Gerard. He was the one who had let Erec and Bethany into the underground F.E.S. station that led them to Alypium for the first time.

“I don’t know.” Gerard was working for Baskania, that was clear. But Erec didn’t have to be afraid of getting turned in. He was on his way to go offer his services to the Shadow Prince anyhow. Gerard’s hand began to pull back on the lever. “I mean, I’m here to help the Shadow Prince. I’ve learned a few things and I want to talk to him.”

Gerard frowned. “Hmm. So you’re going in dere, then? On yer own? I could . . .” He looked around. “Announce you. I think I will. Just to be safe, ya know.”

“Go ahead.” Erec smiled. “Whatever you like.”

Spartacus said, “It’s been two hours since we saw Rosco, so we should go in now.”

Gerard spoke into a speaker, stating that Erec Rex was entering Baskania’s headquarters. Erec, feeling like a fly walking straight into a spiderweb, pulled open one of the big ornate doors of
La Place des Yeux du Monde
.

La Place des Yeux du Monde
was beautiful and somber at the same time. Stone and dark wood covered the walls, ornate tapestries hung in deep colors, and heavy velvet curtains swathed the windows. Erec recognized Baskania’s blind servants scurrying in and out. They wore black cloaks with hoods over their heads, following orders day and night.

“This way.” Spartacus led Erec through a few dark corridors to a bank of elevators. “Top floor.”

Erec tried pressing the button that led to the penthouse office suite, but it was locked. “We can’t get up there.”

Spartacus cracked a grin. “You’re with me, kid. You can go anywhere.”

They took the elevator to the highest floor, then walked into a lush hallway connecting multiple business suites. People in designer suits bustled by, sporting leather briefcases and gold watches. They all looked important and busy; no blind servants were anywhere to be seen in this area.

“Ready?” Spartacus took hold of Erec’s shoulders.

“I—” Before Erec could respond, he was whizzing down the hallway to a locked door. A few people glanced at Erec, surprised, as he sped by, floating. Erec grinned apologetically.

Spartacus popped through the door and unlocked it from the other side, opening it for Erec. “Right this way.”

Erec followed him up five flights of steps to another locked door on top. Spartacus slid right through it, and then back again. “Hmm. Just a moment.”

While Erec waited, his stress level grew until his stomach began to burn. He felt like he was ready to jump out of his skin. What was he doing here? This was insane. Every time he saw Baskania, the man tried to kill him. The last time he was with him it was clear that he would stop at nothing for Erec’s eyes and his scepter. Which—Erec shuddered to remember—he very well might end up giving to Baskania. He had regretted doing this before, why did he think it would be any different now?

The Fates, he kept telling himself. The Aitherpoint quill. It couldn’t have given him the wrong advice, could it? What if it did? Erec panicked. Was it too late? Suddenly it seemed this was clearly the wrong thing to do. He turned around, stomach in knots, and ran down the steps.

Moments later, he was sailing right back up again.

“Spartacus! Put me down. I changed my mind.”

“Not on my watch. We haven’t come all this way just for you to chicken out.”

“This is crazy, though! What was I thinking? I have to get out of here, fast, before it’s too late.”

“It
is
too late. I’ve given you my soul. . . .”

Erec thought a moment about what Spartacus was saying. He had forgotten why he was here. He was free for only one reason, and he wasn’t done with his quest yet. All of those souls were apart from their spirits and suffering. Erec was lucky to be breathing now—this was not the time to be selfish. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s do this.”

Spartacus had found the keys to the stairwell. Erec strode through, following the ghost to an enormous door at the end of a long hallway.

“This is it.” Spartacus pointed. “It’s unlocked. You better walk in first. It’s less likely I’ll be noticed then.”

“Okay.” Erec tried to put together what he would say to Baskania. He was terrified. Anything that came out of his mouth would sound ridiculous. Like, “Hey, it’s me again. I’ve changed my mind, and now I think you’re the best. Want my eyes now?” He would have to think of a reason for him to change—maybe visiting the Furies . . .

Well, it was too late to go back, no matter what would happen. “Here goes.” He pushed open the heavy door and walked inside.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A Visit to the Enemy

C
ANDLELIGHT FLICKERED ALL
around the huge room, along with hundreds more candles in chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Burnished gold covered the walls, which were decorated with ornate paintings taken from museums. Baskania sat behind a huge mahogany desk. A man in a business suit was speaking to him about marketing Eye of the World. Two others nervously shifted in their shoes as he spoke. A pair of blind followers waited patiently at the side of the room. Rosco stood next to Baskania’s desk, arms
crossed, listening to the marketing presentation. He tapped his toe impatiently.

As the consultant continued to speak, oblivious to Erec’s presence, Baskania slowly rose. All of the five eyes across his forehead bored into Erec’s. When Erec had been a spirit he could sense when Baskania had tried to read his mind. Now he could not feel it, but it was easy to tell that’s what Baskania was trying to do. He wanted to know why Erec was back.

Two eye patches now rested on Baskania’s face. He had obviously removed both his original eyes for Erec’s dragon eyes. Erec cringed. How would he ever get out of here without giving them right back to Baskania? This vision may be the last he ever had.

“Erec Rex.” Baskania smiled pleasantly, a sharp tinge in his voice. “Fancy seeing you here. I rather thought you were in my Hinternom, learning how to be a good Spirit Warrior for your new master. But it seems that every time I think you are taken care of, you surprise me.” His five eyes narrowed. “And look at that. You have your dragon eyes back again as well. How lucky. I assume you have my scepter, too? Well, it’s kind of you to come return them to me.” He waved an arm and a silver net fell over Erec. He recognized it as the one that captured ghosts.

Now was time for the best acting job of Erec’s life. “I’m not a spirit anymore.” Well, that much was true at least.

Baskania frowned. “Good try, little Erec. But unfortunately for you I’m not a simpleton. You obviously think I’ll just remove the net and let you fly away.”

“Why would I fly away if I just got here? I came to see you on my own, didn’t I? And I’m alive again. See for yourself.”

“If you were alive I’d be able to read your mind. So that’s not the case.” But he got up and touched Erec’s head, felt the pulse in his neck. “What is this? How did you come back to life again?”

Erec detected a note of fear in Baskania’s voice and he congratulated himself. “The Furies helped me. I got my life back, but they warned me that I would become a completely different person than I was before. I agreed, but it was true. Now I look at things in a whole new way.”

“Good job!” Spartacus slapped him on the back. Even though Erec knew nobody else could hear Spartacus, it was hard not to feel shaken, like others might notice. Erec wished that he would stay quiet.

“Go on.” Baskania waited, interested.

“I’m here to work with you. I hope you’ll take me after what happened between us before. I’m happy to do whatever you want. It would be great if you don’t kill me, because I have some powers that could really help you now. I’d like to do the best for you that I can.”

The Shadow Prince’s eyes bored into him. “Why can’t I read your mind anymore?”

“I don’t know. I think it has to do with being a spirit and coming back to life. Or something that the Furies did. I’m not sure.” He tried to look innocent. “Sorry for barging in. I just wanted you to know that things are going to be very different now.”

Baskania’s words resounded fierce, uncontrollable. “Where is the scepter? I need it back.”

Erec had no idea what he was supposed to do. The quill had told him to serve Baskania. Wouldn’t that mean giving the scepter to him? He had even seen a vision of himself doing just that . . . but there was no way he could ever let that happen. Was he supposed to, though? He couldn’t! Erec froze in indecision, then he made a choice. He was here, like he was supposed to be. But he would never hand over his scepter. Never. “The Furies took it. It was part of my trade to come back to life again.”

Baskania slammed his fists down on the table and screamed,
“You
idiot
! You have ruined everything. That scepter was the most powerful of all three, and I
want it back
!”

Erec lowered his head, secretly glad. “I’m sorry, master. I’ll do everything I can to get it back for you.”

Baskania perked up. “Do you know a way?”

“No. But I might be able to find one. The Furies seem to like me enough to make trades for things.” He wasn’t sure where this track would lead him, but he wouldn’t mind taking some of Baskania’s precious possessions. It would serve him right after taking so much from other people.

“Get out of here.” Baskania waved the men in suits from the room. His blind followers loped out behind them.

“Mind if I stay?” Rosco cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not so sure I believe this kid. I think he’s faking.”

“What?” Spartacus was incredulous. “Is Rosco turning on us now?” He gave Rosco a hard slap on the back. Rosco bounced forward, and coughed hard to cover up his sudden motion. Erec gave Spartacus a dirty look.

“I agree,” Baskania said. “Something is fishy here. But I do like what I’m hearing.” He thought a moment. “So, you’re willing to give me your dragon eyes, then?”

“I am.” Erec smiled. “That’s why I came. To help you in any way. I figured you’d want my eyes, to start. But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep them a little longer.”