Key the Steampunk Vampire Girl and the Dungeon of Despair (9780989878531) (17 page)

On the verge of tears, she now glared at Mr. Fuddlebee. “You haven’t been my friend!” she shouted at him. “You left me down here in the dark. Alone. Lonely! My only friends have been a witch, an invisible ghost, and an immortal puppy.”

“Immortal puppy?” Mr. Fuddlebee said inquisitively. He studied Tudwal for a moment with a look of surprise and curiosity. Then he stared at Miss Broomble with a questioning expression. “You gave her Winifred’s puppy?”

Right then another violent explosion rocked the castle.

— CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO —

Freedom

The hole in the dungeon wall became wider. The black water of Melancholy Moat came rushing in even faster. Despair was filling up quickly with darkness and suffocation.

And as the black water rose higher, all the businesses in the dungeon shut down. Mystical Creatures of all kinds began fleeing from the watery chaos. The Beastly Barbershop wrapped up their razors, scissors, and meat cleavers to prevent rusting, and then used their barber chair cushions as floatation devices. Cackling Cauldron Makers floated in their cauldrons, paddling along desperately toward the stairwell that led up to the exit. The Partly Dead Brownie Folk made little ships out of their Snuckle Truffle boxes and oars out of spoons; and they rowed hard to safety. Skulk the undertaker curiously surfed by on five very ancient-looking coffins. The Living Firelight went skipping across the water, screaming madly as it went. Students from the Skeleton School of Psychology made a raft out of their schoolbooks. Scientists from the Leprechaun Laboratory stopped up test tubes to use as water wings. Nightly patrons of the Hobgoblin Hex Bar floated by in barrels of pumpkin rum. Many more hordes were sailing across Melancholy Moat in whatever they could find, some in boxes and some in cans, some in bottles or boots or magic lamps. The Toags naturally floated across the black water like ducks. All the while, Warhag watched the goings-on from a rafter, until the sounds of chaos and screams for mercy lulled her into the deep sleep of purring kittens.

The black water surged all around Key’s coffin and rushed it away from Mr. Fuddlebee and Miss Broomble. The force of the current slammed the coffin against one wall, causing the coffin to crack. Water began seeping in all around Key and Tudwal. Any minute now, the coffin would break apart and sink.

Miss Broomble removed a copper box from her sleeve and hurriedly spoke a command to it, “Bridge,” before setting it down at her feet.

The small copper box began unfolding. It unfolded and unfolded and unfolded some more. And it went on unfolding until it transformed into a long narrow bridge that lengthened across the dungeon, just above Melancholy Moat’s black water, stretching all the way from Miss Broomble to Key. Then little metal clamps at one end of the bridge clamped down at the stairwell near Miss Broomble’s boots while the other end clamped onto the wall beside Key.

Key set Tudwal on the copper bridge just as a massive clawed hand suddenly burst out from the black water. The hand was much wider than Key’s coffin, colored the grey-blue of great white sharks, yet it had claws as long as black swords.

“Oh dear me,” Mr. Fuddlebee stated. “Killjoy the Kraken.”

“Hurry!” Miss Broomble shouted to Key.

Key leaped to the copper bridge just as the Kraken’s claws sliced through her coffin and dragged it down into the black water, leaving only splinters and broken boards floating along the surface.

She was about to run toward Mr. Fuddlebee and Miss Broomble, but she stopped, realizing that she was still in her nightgown. A horrific moment of clarity overcame Key right then, for she knew she’d left everything she owned in the coffin – her ghostly green slippers, her little book, her Crinomatic, and even her most valuable possession stored inside the Crinomatic’s core processor – her white birthday dress.

Key turned to look for the coffin, hoping that some of it might still be left on the surface of the water. But as she saw that the coffin had indeed sunk along with all her possessions, her heart sank too, knowing that it was all lost, perhaps forever.

“Leave it and come on!” Miss Broomble shouted, waving for Key to hurry.

Without thinking on it any further, Key turned and dashed barefooted across the bridge with Tudwal scuttling alongside her.

The Kraken’s clawed hand once more rose up from the black water and slammed down on the bridge, right at Key’s heels.

Tudwal barked furiously at the Kraken.

But Mr. Fuddlebee shook his head in confusion at the immortal puppy. “I seriously doubt, old fellow, that Killjoy knows what you mean by
face punch.”

The Kraken’s long claws ripped through the copper bridge, tearing it entirely apart, and pulling it down into the flood.

Key and Tudwal leaped toward the stairwell, but their leap was not far enough, and they began plummeting down toward the black water. Yet just before they splashed down, Pega’s invisible hand grabbed Key and Key quickly grabbed Tudwal.

“It’s all right, Mistress,” came the voice of Pega out of the air. “I’ve got you.”

“Pega!” Key exclaimed delightedly, realizing that the ghost had broken the castle rules. “You spoke to me!”

“I know, Mistress,” Pega said nervously, “don’t tell anyone!”

Pega raised Key and Tudwal far from the water. She glided them toward Mr. Fuddlebee and Miss Broomble on the stairwell.

Mr. Fuddlebee rose higher into the air also with ghostly green trails of light swirling after him. He soared up to the dungeon ceiling. “Keep the child safe,” he called down to Miss Broomble. “I’ll see if I can talk some sense into Crinkle. If her ridiculous plan of escape destroys the castle, there’s no knowing how many Mostly Dead Mystical Creatures might escape also. Common people would see them in the streets and panic, realizing that the afterlife is like life as much as Old Queen Crinkle is like Little Mary Sunshine.” And with that, Mr. Fuddlebee vanished through the dungeon ceiling.

Pega set Key and Tudwal down beside Miss Broomble on the stairwell. Key and Miss Broomble hugged, glad to see one another again.

Then Key asked the witch, “Did the Queen release the Kraken?”

“Old Queen Crinkle is trying to escape,” the witch explained, “and Killjoy the Kraken is using this as an opportunity to attack the castle. You’re not the only prisoner, and this dungeon isn’t the only prison. Killjoy has been imprisoned in Melancholy Moat for over five hundred years. He’s pretty upset about that.”

“I know how he feels,” Key remarked under her breath. Then she recalled the two giant legs that she had seen through the hole in the dungeon wall, one leg flesh and bone, the other robotic. “I saw a giant attacking the castle also,” Key said. “Is he in league with the Kraken?”

Miss Broomble shook her head. “No, that giant is in fact a part of the Queen’s plan of escape. We’re still trying to figure out how he fits into it all. The giant is a Cyclops, a cyborg called Silas.”

“Silas the Cybernetic Cyclops,” Key mused to herself – the same creature that she had overheard Raithe and Crudgel talking about. “Was this Raithe’s plan, or the Queen’s?” Key wondered.

Miss Broomble squatted down to the copper bridge. She inspected the box that it had been, although there wasn’t much to inspect, except shredded metal. “Return,” she ordered it, but the bridge did not budge. “Return,” she commanded it again with greater emphasis, yet again the bridge remained perfectly motionless in its demise. “Broken,” the witch spat in frustration under her breath as she stood and faced Key. “Another one gone. Let’s hope the GadgetTronic Brothers will give me another Oscillobox for work.”

“What kind of work do you do?” Key asked.

“This,” Miss Broomble said, gesturing and looking up.

Key looked around, but all she saw was the flooded dungeon. She did not understand what “this” meant.

“Mr. Fuddlebee and I work for DIOS,” Miss Broomble explained. “We turn immortals back into mortals.”

Key was shocked. “You mean to say that this whole time you could have made me mortal again, but you did not? You kept this secret from me?”

“Much has been kept from you, and not by me alone, but by yourself also,” Miss Broomble said to a rather confused looking Key. “Look,” the witch went on, “there is no time to answer all your questions now, but I will answer one.” Miss Broomble sighed heavily before she spoke. “No, I could not change you back into a mortal for many reasons. You’re not seven hundred seventy seven years old, first off. Secondly,
you
would not let me change you back into a mortal.”

“Me?” Key had no idea what Miss Broomble meant and she pleaded with her old friend, “Please, explain this to me. How could I have stopped you? You know how I’ve been in prison in Despair. You know that I have not liked my life. Why didn’t you help me change that? Why didn’t you change me back into a mortal if you had the power to do so?”

Miss Broomble leaned close and kissed Key’s forehead. “I love you,” the witch said kindly, “and I will protect you in whatever way I can. But right now I cannot give you any more answers. I can only say that you would not let me do anything other than what I did. Now, come on. We must go. Follow me, and you’ll soon know everything.”

Key looked helplessly into Miss Broomble’s eyes. She didn’t understand – she wanted answers now – she didn’t want to wait. But if waiting was what she had to do to know the truth, then she would. She was very good at waiting by now; living for so long in Despair had certainly taught her that much.

Key nodded at Miss Broomble. “Let’s go,” she agreed quietly and with firm resolution.

Miss Broomble put her hand on Key’s shoulder. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” Key asked.

Pega had been there the whole time, listening and hoping for the best for Key. Now she could not contain her excitement any longer. Still very invisible, she leaned close to Key and broke the castle rules again to whisper in Key’s ear, “Are you ready for freedom, Mistress?”

Key looked nervously into Miss Broomble’s large dark eyes. “Will the other vampires put me back down here again?”

Miss Broomble smiled reassuringly. “The suffering you’ve endured is nothing compared to the good things awaiting you now. Come on. Let’s go help Mr. Fuddlebee stop the Old Queen from escaping.”

Miss Broomble then turned and hurried up the stone stairwell toward the exit.

Key set Tudwal down at her feet. She looked back at the dungeon one last time. It was almost completely flooded, deep underwater. There was no sign of her old shackles. There was no sign of her used coffin. There was no sign of the glowing flowers she had planted; their comforting lights had been snuffed out.

Key was not sure if she felt nervous about freedom, or if she felt nervous about changing her life. She had lived mostly in darkness and emptiness, in rejection and loneliness. She did not know if she could remember being as free as she had been before her ninth birthday. She did not know if she could live life without Despair. Change like that was scary, and Key had to be brave.

So, now, she turned away from what she knew and she turned toward what she did not know. She placed one foot in front of the other and she took her first steps away from fear. She took a few more steps toward freedom, one step at a time; that’s all it took. She didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t look back anymore. She left the dungeon.

Key the Steampunk Vampire Girl stopped living in Despair.

End of Book One

Acknowledgments

This book would not have been possible without the guidance, dedication, and love of certain people.

Christina
– for reading and rereading, and for listening to me read and reread several drafts; and for being a constant source of support and encouragement.

Raven Quinn
– for drawing Key, her friends, her foes, and her magic to life with your amazing artistry.

Ashley Little
– for your great thoughts and ideas.

Todd Barselow
– for your great work as an editor.

Anne
– for your friendship, support, and guidance; and for pioneering a way to tell vampire stories differently.

God
– for filling my life with love and innumerable blessings.

You
– for reading this book.

Credits

Cover design by Becket

www.facebook.com/iBecket

Illustrations by Raven Quinn

https://www.facebook.com/officialravenquinn

Images

istockphoto | chronicler101 | keys | File #27475620

istockphoto | venimo | blue seamless pattern with cogs and gears | File #20156005

vectorstock | scivias | Steampunk frame made of cogs vector | File ID: 1195560

About Becket

Becket has a BA in music composition, an MA in Systematic Theology, and an MS in Industrial/Organizational Psychology.
 
He was a diocesan seminarian for 3 years.
 
He was a Benedictine monk for 5 years.
 
For the last 8 years, he has worked as Anne Rice’s assistant, and has spent that time learning from her.

You can find Becket here

www.facebook.com/iBecket

About Raven Quinn

Raven Quinn is a Los Angeles based singer/songwriter, recording artist and illustrator. Although Raven is primarily recognized for her work in music, she has also revealed herself to be a passionate visual artist with a unique and whimsical style that is all her own. Her artistic tools of choice are usually simple: a BIC pen, watercolor pencils, and her expansive imagination. Drawing has always been a creative outlet for Raven, but it was only in 2012 that she began making her original artwork available to the public through online auctions. Due to increasing demand, she eventually began taking commission requests as her schedule allowed in 2013. Raven's artistic contribution to KEY THE STEAMPUNK VAMPIRE GIRL marks her debut as an illustrator for a children's book, and is the realization of a life-long dream to help visually bring to life fantastical worlds and characters for young readers. When she is not writing or in the studio recording new music, Raven can inevitably be found working on her latest illustration.