The Wicked Passage (A Blake Wyatt Adventure) (14 page)

“Answer me!” Dagonblud kicked him in the ribs.

“Why? To you I’m already dead.”

“Not yet.” Dagonblud yanked him to his feet, slammed his face into the wall, and watched him slide to the ground. “Now I think you’re ready to hear what happened to the great and noble Michael Wyatt.”

The old man didn’t move.

“The courageous protector of the Rellium sold his power for a chance to save his own miserable life. That shouldn’t surprise another traitor.”

Leopold slowly raised his head. “That’s a lie.”

Dagonblud walked around the heap of arms and legs.
“Poor Leopold Wyatt, blinded by virtue, dependent on the same drink that poisons his family.
You know the immortality from the coriane lasts only as long as you drink it. So, how does it feel to decay? Remember the power you once possessed? You had the perfect life--fine food, great books,
scientific
accolades. Instead you chose to save your pathetic brother.”

“Rot in Hades, you monster.”

Dagonblud grabbed him by the hair and jerked back his head. “You’re already there.” He released his grip,
then
pulled the black diamond from his pocket and twisted open the weapon. “Now I’ll hear the truth.”

Pitch-darkness and a putrid odor overtook the room. “
Where’s
the girl and the chronicle?”

Leopold didn’t answer.

Dagonblud rolled him to his back and then clutched his neck. “Where are they?!”

Leopold gasped. “Just kill me.”

Dagonblud huffed, tightened his grip, and waited. “Has the venom of the black diamond poisoned your mind yet? Are you ready to tell me the truth?” He waited. “Where’s the girl?”

“On the Santa Maria,” he whispered.

“And the chronicle?”

“With Blakemore Wyatt.”

“Where’s he?”

“With his sister.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Dagonblud jeered. “Three Wyatts added to my collection, and Christopher Columbus wiped from history. Not even the Parabulls will be able to repair the giant hole the great explorer will leave in the timeline.” He pulled a tempus from his pocket and was gone.

CHAPTER 14

MADNESS ON THE EDGE OF THE EARTH

Dead.
Blake knew that’s exactly what they were going to be if he didn’t think of something fast.

Rat rubbed his thumb over the face of the tempus. “The girl goes first.”

Blake crowded Erica into the corner of Columbus’s cabin and stood in front of her.

“Charming.”
Rat picked up his knife,
cartwheeled
it in the air, and then snatched it by the handle.
“Trying to save the little girl.”

“Who are you calling a little girl?” she shouted over her brother’s shoulder.

“Ah, a feisty one.”

“Shut up, Ricki,” Blake said through his teeth. “You’re gonna make him madder.”

“So what?
He’s just a big, stinky jerk!”

“Erica,” said Blake, through a broad, fake smile. “I’m trying to make this guy chill.”

“He’s gonna turn us into wood!”

“Bravo! The little princess already knows her place. The rarest wood is planned for you. I’m sure.” Rat looked at the tempus. “I see you two cockroaches were returning to Dagonblud’s dungeon.” He flipped the cover closed and glared at Erica. “Looking for what’s left of your father, are we?”

Blake snagged his sister’s arm when she tried to lunge around him.

“Let me go!” She tried to shake off his grip. “I saw the place where Dad died. I don’t care what this bully does to me.”

“Cool it, Rick! He’s the one with the knife.”

Erica pulled her arm free and stepped in front of Rat. “Try anything, dirt bag, and I’ll knock you on your butt again.” She put her hand in her pocket.

Rat laughed and pushed the tempus into a pouch hanging from his belt. “The little warrior has fire.
Admirable.
The imperial regent will have his hands full.” He wiped the knife blade on his pant leg and slid it into his boot. His gaze shifted to the floor. “What do we have here?” Rat scooped up the chronicle’s red gem and flung it out the window. “Hope you can swim.” He laughed.

Erica gasped and retreated behind her brother.

“Not so brave now.” Rat wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and then staggered back against the wall. His black hair changed to gray, and his cheeks sank deep into his face.

“That’s totally freaky,” she said.
 
“What’s happening to him?”

“I don’t know.”

“We can’t just wait around for him to turn us into wood. I think that Dagonblud guy’s his boss, and he’s the one who--”

“Quiet!” Rat coughed and smacked the wall with his fist. “Rotten
plant piss
. Why isn’t it working?” He clawed Blake out of the corner and pulled him into his face. “What did you do to my coriane?”

Blake cringed and turned his face away. The guy’s
breath
reeked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never even heard of it!”

Rat shook him. “The hell you haven’t.” he said, and walloped him in the gut.

Blake grunted and clutched his stomach.

“Leave him alone!” Erica shouted.

He watched his sister power off a kick to Rat’s shin.

“Back off, wench. You’re next.”

Blake hurtled himself into Rat, knocking over the chair. “No one touches my sister!”

Rat recovered, pulled his knife from his boot, and then swung the blade.

Blake felt searing pain in his arm as he tried to wrestle away the knife.

“Someone’s trying to get in!” Erica cried out.

Blake slammed Rat into the wall, and the air rushed from his lungs in one foul blast.

The cabin door crashed open. Columbus pulled Blake off Rat. “Enough!”

Blake broke free and slammed Rat into the wall again, harder.

“I said enough!” Columbus pushed past Blake and manhandled Rat to the cabin doorway.
“Diego!”

Diego appeared.
“Yes, Admiral.”

“Chain this sailor till the end of the voyage.” Columbus shoved Rat into Diego and slammed his door.

“Thanks,” Blake said, pressing on his wound and eyeing his sister cowering under the table.

Columbus lifted Blake’s arm. “This needs attention.” He pulled out his clothes trunk, opened the lid, and removed a small jar.

Erica sneezed.

Columbus looked under the table.
“Mother of God!”

“Uh, Mr. Columbus, that’s my sister, Erica.”

The admiral’s face was rigid.
 
He started to speak but turned back to the clothes and took out a shirt. Ripping it into strips he finally said, “A young girl from a land not on any maps is in my cabin.”

Erica crawled out. “What are you talking about? California’s on a lot of maps.”

“Not on any of my maps, young lady.” Columbus wiped the bleeding cut and then smeared on brown glop.

Blake winced. “What’s that stuff?”

“Honey . . . to aid healing.” Columbus wrapped the wound and tied the strips in a knot. He turned, picked up his lamp from the floor, and returned it to the wall.

“Are you the real Christopher Columbus?” Erica asked.

“Yes, I am the real Christopher Columbus.” The admiral lifted his fallen chair, straddled it, and then combed his hair with his fingers. “My mind has failed me, Lord. The sea has stolen my wits, and madness creeps into my thoughts. I will not send these men to their death because lunacy speaks to me now.”

“What are you saying?” Blake asked.

“This expedition is over.”

Blake shot back, “It can’t be over, Mr. Columbus. There’s a lot at stake here. If you don’t get to the New World, the future won’t happen!”

“It’s way worse than that, Blake.” Erica folded her arms. “They’re going to turn us into wood.”

Columbus leaned over and gathered ripped pages of the chronicle. He dropped them to the floor. “My mind’s sickness even makes these pages feel real.”

“It’s because they are!” Blake collected the scattered pages. “Mr. Columbus, listen to me. You’re not crazy. These are from a really cool book, the Chronicle of the Rellium, and it’s all about the history of the world. You’re in it, whether you like it or not. And that guy you just throttled out of here is not who you think he is.”

“Admittedly, I know little of Rat. The queen pardoned him and three other prisoners for this voyage.”

Blake shook his head. “I’m not sure who he is, either, but he’s not a prisoner or sailor. And he wants us all dead.”

“Your stories unnerve me, but you live only in some disturbed region of my mind.” Columbus pushed the chair out, squatted, and retrieved the small chest from under his bed. “One last look at what could have been before I order the fleet back to Spain.” The admiral opened the lid.

“Listen to me, Mr. Columbus. I know you think you’re going nuts, but--”

“It’s gone! My logbook’s gone!”

Erica peeked at the metal box. “So, start a new one.”

Columbus didn’t answer. Instead, he moved her aside and flipped up a corner of the lumpy mattress. “It can’t be gone! The key remains around my neck.”

“I bet it was Rat,” Blake said. “That guy can do things normal people can’t.”

The admiral sat on the chair, placed the chest on his lap, and stared out at the sea.

“It’s way worse than that, Blake.” Her voice soared into a glass-breaking octave. “I saw what that giant Dagonblud guy did to you in your history class, and I tried to stop him. But when I put out my hand, nothing was there. And Uncle Leopold told me Dagonblud’s gonna do the same to the Parabulls and take all their power, too, and then Nura will be--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down! You saw the Parabulls?”

“No, Uncle Leopold told me about them. He’s still stuck in the dungeon. They’ll kill him! I know they’ll kill him!”

“One thing at a time, Ricki.
What did he tell you about the Parabulls?”

“He said they were the source.”

“The source of what?”

“Time and all this weird magic that’s happening to us.”
Erica pulled a glowing stone from her pocket. “I got this out of the dungeon. It’s part of the membrane.”

Blake took the rock from her. “It’s not magic, Ricki. It’s science.”

Erica grabbed the stone. “It’s still weird.”

Blake scooped up the beaten cover of the chronicle and stuffed the tattered pages inside. “Look, Mr. Columbus, I don’t know how to convince you I’m real. It has to do with quantum physics,
which,
believe me, I don’t understand myself. But remember when you told me you knew I’d come? Let’s just go with that for now. I have to make sure you get to where you’re going.”

Columbus closed the chest and locked it. He placed his hand on top and murmured, “You don’t really exist.”

Blake turned to his sister. “How am I going to do this?”

“I’m hungry,” Erica said.

“You’re hungry? Like now?”

“I didn’t have any lunch, and the machine outside the gym stole my money. I was trying to find you when--”

“There, Mr. Columbus. If we weren’t real, my sister wouldn’t be hungry. And I ate the food you gave me, remember?”

Erica took a few steps toward Columbus. “Do you have anything I could eat?

The admiral crossed his arms, tensing his jaw. “If you are real, then perhaps you stole my logbook.”

The room suddenly darkened. Thunder shook the cabin, lightning flashed, and the ship pitched violently. Blake steadied himself at a window opening.
“Whoa . . . gnarly storm.”

The door burst open. Roaring noises and black soot shot through the small space like a thousand dirt bikes roosting off a starting line.

“Oh crap!” Blake clutched the chronicle and squinted through the pelting black sand bullets. “Mr. Columbus, promise me you’ll finish what you came out here to do!”

Columbus tossed the chest on the table, forced his way through the sandstorm, and then jammed the door closed with his shoulder. The iron latch dangled from one bolt, probably from Columbus kicking in the door.
“Fine!
If you’re real, some assistance please!”

Blake squeezed next to Columbus and pushed the door the same way he did for sled drills at football practice. “Come on, Ricki!” He felt her pressing against his back.

“I can’t hold it anymore!” Erica yelled.

“Use your butt! Keep pushing!” Blake strained to hold back whatever was outside the door. Then, suddenly, it stopped.
The howling, the fury, gone, as though the entire world on the other side of the door had vanished.

“Is the storm gone?” she asked.