Rodomonte's Revenge (4 page)

“This time,” he explained, “you won't need them.”

“What will we need?” Tom asked.

“Every bit of luck we can get,” Brett answered.

Willie nodded. “And every bit of knowledge I can give you.” He sighed. “Unfortunately that isn't much. We know so little about the game that we hardly even know how to play it. I'll tell you what I can. There are five levels. The first two you already know. The third is getting inside the castle, the fourth getting inside the throne room, and the fifth is defeating Rodomonte.”

“How do we do that?”

“I have no idea.”

Tom looked about as confident as Brett felt. “That's all you can tell us?”

“That's all I know. I'll probe the program once the game begins and see what I can come up with. I think I'll be able to send you keyboard messages; the program should pick them up.” He rested his hand on Tom's shoulder. “I'll help you every way that I can.”

“What do we do now?” Brett asked.

“You wait for the game to come to you.” Willie nodded toward the computer. “I'll see
if I can figure anything out. You guys do what you have to do.”

“Let's hope that's not more than we
can
do.” Tom gulped. He joined Brett as he slumped against the wall. They waited for the game.

Reality slowly washed away, like chalk on a rainy sidewalk. Beneath reality was the game. Within half an hour the arcade and mall were gone. The world was gone, at least the world Tom and Brett were used to, the world they wanted back.

Words flashed across the sky.
WELCOME TO THE FIRST LEVEL OF RODOMONTE'S REVENGE: THE PLAINS
.

YOU'D BETTER GET GOING
, Willie typed,
GOOD LUCK
.

The game hadn't changed. The first fire river was in the same place, and they crossed it in the same way. Brett was so nervous jumping it that he was sure the butterflies in his stomach carried him over. There was no fooling around now. One slip, and everything was over. Everything.

They were almost to the mountains before the first buzz-bug struck.

Tom picked up its clatter before Brett. He pointed toward the mountains. “Let's separate.”

Brett ran to the side, fear turning his legs into lead, his throat as dry as the video sand beneath him. As the green dot grew, he hoped that it wouldn't come after him. If Tom missed beheading it, then … His knees went weak.

But, Brett thought, it really doesn't make any difference who the bug attacks. If it gets me, then another bug or a spider will get Tom, and if it gets Tom, then another bug or spider will get me. Willie had been right. The only way they were going to get through this was if they did it together.

“It's coming this way!” Tom cried. “It's after me!”

Brett sprinted back. The bug came on fast, but the fear of what would happen if he didn't send its big, round head rolling across the sand gave him speed. He was in position when the bug roared by. Its wings hummed, his sword flashed, and the bug was a dead, jumbled heap in the sand.

“One down,” Tom said as he trotted up.

“And about a million to go.” They headed for the mountains.

The next buzz-bug came for Brett. Tom took it out as easily as Brett had done. The third came for Brett, too, and at a bad time. He had just hurdled a fire river, and Tom was still on the other side. Tom had to leap the river and chase down the bug at the same time. It flew so near that Brett had to duck to avoid its flying, severed head.

“Too close.” His breath whistled in his chest. “Way too close. I'll almost be glad to see tunnel spiders.” Tom looked at him but didn't say anything.

When they reached the foothills, Brett couldn't tell if the trail in front of them was the same one they had taken in the first game or not. He stopped Tom before he stepped onto it.

“Are you there, Willie?”

I'M HERE
.

“In the first game you mentioned something about its not making any difference which trail we took. What did you mean?”

ALL THE TRAILS LEAD TO THE CASTLE. THE PROBLEM IS THAT AT THE SAME TIME NONE OF THEM DOES
.

“Huh?”

THERE'S A TRICK TO FOLLOWING THEM
.

Tom looked at the sky. “What trick?”

I DON'T KNOW. I'M WORKING ON IT
.

“Work as fast as you can.” They stepped onto the trail.

WELCOME TO THE SECOND LEVEL OF RODOMONTE'S REVENGE: THE MOUNTAINS. YOU ARE GOING TO FIND THIS MUCH MORE DIFFICULT THAN THE PLAINS
.

The wind was stronger than it had been in the first game, and the trail was steeper. Brett struggled to keep up with Tom. He wasn't going to let them separate; if a spider got him, he wanted to make sure it got both of them. But Tom was in good shape, and Brett was not. By the time they left the foothills, he was straggling. He'd dropped back fifty feet when he felt the ground giveaway.

“Tunnel spider!”

He tried to leap from the pit, but every step was like walking in oatmeal. Tom scrambled back down the trail until he was only ten feet away, then stopped.

“Tom! Help me!”

Tom closed his eyes. “I can't. I can't do it.”

“Tom!” A web knotted around Brett's
sword wrist. He avoided a second, but another entangled his ankle. A small black hole opened at his feet. “Tom, please!” Brett pleaded as he sank even deeper into the muck.

Tom looked back, swallowed, then shouted something—what, Brett was too busy and frightened to hear—and leaped to the edge of the pit, his sword swinging. He cut Brett's arm free. Brett stabbed down into the black hole, which had now sucked in his legs up to his knees. With Tom gripping his collar, he worked his feet loose, cutting the web away from his ankles.

Something hissed.

The spider crawled out of its tunnel. It was mean and angry and a thousand tints of ugly, a squat brown body ringed with swarming
black legs, a head with eyes like mud and fangs like dripping pincers. It leaped on Brett, reached greedily for his throat, driving Tom away. It smelled like something that had died and been left too long in a corner.

“Eat this, bloodsucker!” Brett jammed his pistol into its mouth. The spider's momentum carried his arm down its throat, all the way up to his elbow. He fired twice. The laser bolts exploding inside the spider rang like distant thunder. It shivered, folded its legs beneath it, and slithered dead into the hole.

Brett grimaced as he wiped his arm off on the trail. “Yuck. Spider spit.”

Tom didn't say anything. He sat with his back against the mountain, panting, his face as pale as weathered paint.

“What's the matter?”

Tom swallowed and wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead. “Did I ever tell you how scared to death I am of spiders?”

Brett smiled. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”

“I lied.”

Brett crawled out of the pit. “Thanks for coming back.” The wind kicked him in the
back, almost toppling him over the edge. “We'd better get going.”

A hundred yards up the trail the wind became so strong they had to crawl. Fifty yards farther they were on their bellies. Even that wasn't low enough; Brett had to spread his arms and legs to keep from being blown over the side. He looked down. The plains seemed so far away that he could have been in orbit.

“This is as far as I got last time,” Tom called back over the howling gale. “The wind just picked me up and tossed me over. There was nothing I could do.”

“How much farther do you think it is to the castle?”

“Miles.”

“We'll have to go back until the wind dies down.”

Tom nodded. “We can't stay here.”

By the time they reached the spider tunnel, the wind was too strong for them to go any lower. “We'll never make it,” Tom shouted.

“We'll have to take shelter in the tunnel.”

“Not me. Remember, I hate spiders.”

“It's either that or get dashed to bloody pieces.”

Tom thought for a moment. “Okay, but you go first. Shoot anything that moves. When you're done, I'll come down.”

Brett warmed up his trigger finger and dropped into the hole. He fell ten feet before landing on the spider he'd killed earlier. It felt like an underinflated water bed. As far as he could tell, the tunnel was clear.

“Come on down.”

Tom dropped, hitting the spider with his heels hard enough to split it open. The guts that spilled out smelled like used Kitty Litter. Brett wanted to throw up. Tom did.

“Get used to it,” Brett said. “We'll have to smell it until the wind dies down.”

Words flashed on the tunnel wall as if a ghost were writing them.
THE WIND WILL ONLY GET STRONGER
.

“Then what are we supposed to do here, Willie?”

FOLLOW THE TUNNEL
.

Tom stepped away from the words, shaking his head and wiping his mouth. “You want us to follow a spider tunnel? No way.”

I'VE DISCOVERED THE TRICK TO REACHING THE CASTLE.
REMEMBER WHAT I SAID ABOUT ALL TRAILS LEADING THERE, YET NONE REALLY DOES? IF YOU FOLLOW THE TRAILS, THEY WON'T. IF YOU FOLLOW THE TUNNELS THAT BEGIN AT THE TRAILS, THEY WILL. THEY'LL NOT ONLY LEAD YOU THERE BUT ALSO BYPASS THE THIRD LEVEL, TAKING YOU PAST THE CASTLE WALL INTO THE THRONE ROOM'S ANTECHAMBER
.

“We'll run into more spiders this way,” Brett said.

MAYBE IN THE TUNNEL, BUT NOT ONCE YOU LEAVE IT
.

Tom gulped and stared ahead into the darkness. “Do we have another choice?”

NO
.

Brett sighed. “Then we might as well get started. Don't worry, Tom. I'll lead.”

The tunnel was blacker than any black Brett had ever seen. The next three hours were a nightmare of blind stumbling up and down and around and right and left, wading through ink, his pistol hand following the wall and his sword out in front of him to greet any unseen and unwanted attackers. Suddenly the tunnel cut sharply to the right and began a gradual incline. Brett halted. Tom ran into him.

“What did you stop for?”

“Something's changing.” He sniffed. “Smell the air. It's fresh.”

“And it's getting gray up ahead. I bet that's antechamber torchlight.” Brett couldn't see his face, but he knew Tom was smiling. “We're going to get out of this without running into any more spiders. This isn't so bad after all.” He pushed by Brett and hurried forward. Brett followed more slowly.

The light grew brighter. A hundred yards later they came to the end of the tunnel. Tom squinted up at a circle of bright light three feet above their heads. “Boost me up; then I'll give you a hand.”

“What do you suppose is up there?”

“The antechamber, Level Four, and no more spiders. Let's go.”

Brett cupped his hands for Tom's foot. A few seconds later Tom was lying next to the hole, reaching down. Brett took his hand and scrambled out.

WELCOME TO THE THIRD LEVEL OF RODOMONTE'S REVENGE: THE CASTLE WALL. YOU ARE GOING TO FIND THIS MUCH MORE DIFFICULT THAN THE MOUNTAINS
.

“The third level?” Brett asked. “Willie, I
thought you said this would take us to Level Four.”

IT SHOULD.… I DON'T KNOW WHAT WENT WRONG. I MUST HAVE MADE A MISTAKE
.

A granite wall at least three stories high rose in front of them. Its blocks fitted so tightly that Brett couldn't work his sword tip between them. It had no gates or windows. He studied the wall with his hands on his hips and clicked his tongue. “If only we had a grappling hook. You could toss it up there easy.”

“Nothing's going to be easy.” Tom tapped his shoulder. “Look.”

Brett turned. They were standing on a wide, flat basin ringed by purple mountains. Swarming across the basin were hundreds—maybe thousands—of tunnel spiders. And they all were swarming toward them.

Brett and Tom did the only thing they could do: They panicked and ran. By the time they realized that the smart thing to do would have been to dive back into the tunnel, where they could at least fight the spiders one at a time, fifty were past it and closing in.