The Secret of Ashona (43 page)

“All right, then.” The Shadow Demon tossed the glass over his shoulder, and the water melted into the sand with a hissing noise.

“What would that have done to me?”

“Styx is hate. We’ll leave it at that. Your choice, now?”

The water looked the same in each cup. Randomly he pointed to one, but then had a horrible feeling that he should not drink it. “Not that one either.”

The Shadow Demon threw the cup into the sand. “That was Acheron. Sorrow. Next?”

“Hate and sorrow . . . are there any good ones in there?”

“It’s all in your perspective.” He waved over the four remaining cups.

Erec thought about using the Awen of Knowledge—one of the small balls that hung from the Twrch Trwyth on his neck. It would give him the answers to everything he needed to know. He knew that he needed to save it for something incredibly important, but wasn’t getting out of the Underworld alive the most important thing?

“Wrong again.” The Shadow Demon shook his head. “If you use the Awen of Knowledge, you’ll learn that it’s too late for you, and that you are doomed to stay here in the Underworld forever—because using it will take the chance away from our game of chance. It is a sure way to lose.”

Erec pointed to one of the cups. At first he thought that he was drawn to it, but then he immediately felt fear. “No, I’m not drinking that one either.”

“Shame.” The Shadow Demon tossed it on the sand. “Mnemosyne. Memory. It would give you clarity.”

Erec felt at a loss. He should have gone with his initial impression. None of the other cups seemed right. Disappointed, he said, “Okay. I’ll take that one.”

The Shadow Demon handed him a cup, smiling. He tossed
another cup into the sand. “Cocytus. Lamentation. You would not have liked that one.” And then the final one. “Plegethon. Fire. Painful, but it would have added to your dragon powers.”

Erec stared at the glass in his hand. “What is this one?”

“It’s from the River Lethe. I hope you enjoy it. Don’t forget, you need to drink a whole mouthful if you want it to count.” The Shadow Demon vanished, leaving Erec with the cup.

Something was wrong. Erec knew that the liquid would be bad for him to drink. Maybe it had been the smile on the Shadow Demon’s face. Maybe it was his own intuition. “Should I do this?” he asked Spartacus.

“I don’t know. I hate the idea of you drinking that. But that book said the Shadow Demons in charge here get to decide who stays permanently.” He shook his head. “I wish I could drink it for you.”

“It sounds bad either way. If I don’t drink it I’m stuck here. And if I drink it something bad happens to me . . . and I’m stuck here.” There had to be a way out of this. Could he escape on a technicality?

Then he thought of one thing that might work. . . . He set the drink on the ground and acted fast before the Shadow Demon could respond, if he was still around.

Nee-way.
He imagined being a spider again, hoping that he could control what happened to him.

It worked. The world around him stretched and grew, and the cup became huge in size. Erec landed on one of its corners, grasping on with his many legs. He had to be careful not to fall inside—drenching himself in the water might be fatal. But if he could take a mouthful when he was spider-sized, then that should count. That tiny sip might not affect him once he was human-sized again. Anyway, it was worth a try.

Keep an eye on me, Spartacus,
he thought.
Don’t let me fall into this stuff.

He had to lower himself . . . and without a moment’s thought he
began to spin a web. It was so natural that he didn’t even have to think about it. It was a short web, and just the way to move downward, like climbing a step. To be extra safe, he reinforced the strands twice, and wound some of his feet in knots of it before he lowered himself. It amazed him how similar the stuff looked to the Substance.

The water looked darker than it should, but at least it had no smell. Erec got as close as he could, but then he hesitated. Was he making the right decision? What would this do to him?

Then again, there was really no choice. He lowered his face to touch the liquid from the River Lethe, and filled his mouth. Before swallowing, he raised himself to the top of the cup, balanced on the rim near his web. Terrified of what would happen, he made the decision and swallowed. . . .

It was very hot when he awoke. How long had he been asleep? The sky was red. Interesting. Skies are red. He was sitting on a white thing, but didn’t know what it was. He also wasn’t sure what the liquid was inside of it, but something told him that liquid might be cooling on a hot day like this. Should he jump into it, then? That would make him feel better.

“No!”
a voice shouted. “Don’t go in there!”

Who was making that noise? Erec eyed the water again. Time for a dip . . .

But before he made it into the liquid, a giant hand scooped him away. “Erec! What are you thinking?”

Erec?
he thought.
Who is Erec?

“Oh, no!” the voice said. “This stuff made you forget everything? You don’t even know who you are now?”

That thought had not even occurred to him—who he was. Who was he? He looked himself over. Eight thick, jointed, hairy legs, and a nice round, solid body . . . He was a spider, obviously. It was nice that the voice had pointed that out. He must have forgotten.

But it was very hot here, and he wanted to go for a swim.
Nice to meet you,
he thought.
Whoever you are.

“Wait a minute!” The voice sounded excited. “Say, ‘Nee-way.’ Try saying it—or thinking it. It might help you.”

It seemed that the voice was talking to him. Strange that thinking something might help him. But he did need help—he sure was hot.
Nee-way.

Things around him changed fast, shrinking. The liquid got much smaller, and the man who had been speaking became closer to his size. And he looked familiar too. . . .

“Spartacus!” Erec threw his arms around the ghost hard enough to pass right through him. He could feel Spartacus hugging him back. It was a relief having his memory back. Thank goodness that tiny spider sip wasn’t affecting him now. “That was strong stuff. I hope I don’t forget everything each time I become a spider again.”

“I doubt that—it’s probably lost in your system by now.”

“I hope so.” He wiped the sweat pouring off his face. “Let’s get out of here. You said the Suction Pits of Despair are that way?”

Spartacus nodded, relieved. He looked into the waters of Lethe left in the cup. “I’m keeping the rest. It might come in handy.” Spartacus gestured toward the Suction Pits. “You first.”

Hot sand bubbled around Erec’s feet. He remembered that the Suction Pits were quicksand, and now he worried that he might melt from heat when the sand covered him completely. It burned his skin as he sank into it, then began to pull him faster as he plunged downward. Right before his face was sucked under, he took a deep breath of the hot, humid air.

He was boiling and suffocated, sand pressing in on all sides. He was still moving, but had slowed now. Where was the bottom of this thing? If only he would plunge through and pop out into Tarvos’s cave . . . but instead he seemed stuck. The Suction Pits of Despair was the right name for this place, he thought.

It was too hard to hold his breath any longer, so slowly, with terror, he let it out into the sand. Maybe if he sucked in slowly he could get air again . . . but sand flew into his mouth and nose. He started to choke.

Something tightened around his ankles and yanked him downward. It hurt as hot sand shoved against his body, digging into him. But soon he fell through a hole into the cavern.

Instead of dropping to the floor, he was set down lightly by Spartacus. “Some entrance,” Spartacus said. “If you didn’t have a ghost with you, you’d never have made it through.”

“Thanks.” Erec collapsed on the floor, taking deep breaths and spitting out sand. “That was awful. At least it’s cool in here.”

They waited for Erec to catch his breath and calm down. He recognized this place from the last times he had been here. It was definitely Tarvos’s cave.

Someone was talking around the other side of the corridor. Tarvos was probably about to change someone into a Golem. He walked closer, quietly, Spartacus drifting beside him.

Tarvos growled. “Well, I don’t like it. I don’t need a babysitter, especially some human kid. If the Shadow Prince doesn’t trust me, then he should find someone else to work for him.”

A familiar voice, with a mild New York accent, spoke fast. “It’s not like that, with the Shadow Prince. I’ve known him for hundreds of years, and I trust him completely. But he wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t look over our shoulders. He’s just watching out for us, that’s all.”

Who was that? Erec wondered. He sounded so familiar. . . .

“I don’t
need
watching out for. I’m Tarvos!”

“And we all understand that. But this boy, Ward Gamin, has been specially chosen to spend some time here with you. Now that you’ve amassed your magnificent Golem armies, the Shadow Prince wants to make sure that they aren’t misdirected . . . especially since you have the Master Shem now at your disposal.”

Ward Gamin was there? Erec had just seen him at the Diamond Minds of Argos. It seemed the Shadow Prince liked to put him in dangerous places.

Tarvos grunted. “If you leave him here, I just might turn
him
into a Golem.”

“I’ll have to ask you not to do that. Please understand that we’re just trying to make things work out smoothly. We’re planning our attack now on Otherness, and before you know it, you and your Golem hordes can get out there and go nuts. It’s just a little bit of time that we’ll have to wait, so things can fall into place.”

“How long?”

“A week from now, tops. With the help of our own armies, you and your Golems can wipe out Otherness in two weeks. Then, with the captives we get in Otherness—the ones willing to join us—we’ll turn next to Upper Earth. The plan there is easy. One country at a time. The Shadow Prince has it all under control. He owns the airlines, boat and train companies, and he can shut down transportation in minutes. Then he can stop communication, because he has control of the telecom, cable, and Internet companies. Last week he purchased all of the Internet search engine companies in Upper Earth, so at the flip of a switch, the Internet will be almost unusable.

“And then . . . freedom for you, my friend. Baskania was thinking about giving you Australia—it’s a huge continent on Upper Earth where you can be ruler over all who live there. There are bulls there too—and you can bring as many Minotaurs as you want from Otherness. Really nice place.”

Erec peeked around the corner, curious who had been talking. He glimpsed Ward Gamin in his oversized jacket. Next to him was someone in red ermine and a crown. . . . It was King Pluto, his uncle who had unfortunately been swayed by Baskania. Erec drew back behind the cave wall before he was seen.

Ward sounded timid. “Your Majesty? Didn’t the Shadow Prince
want me to search for Queen Hesti? I mean, I don’t mind staying here, but I was supposed to do that—”

“No worries. Hesti had a kind of thing for dragons, and we thought that she might be hiding in their caves in Otherness somewhere. We were thinking of sending you to look. But there’s no rush—if you . . . I mean, when you finish this job you’ll go there next. It is important that we find Hesti. I’m sure you know why.”

Erec’s fists clenched. Queen Hesti was his mother—and she had been missing ever since his triplet siblings disappeared. So Baskania was looking for her, too?

A memory came back to him—one that had been lost for a long time until he got his memory chip back from Connor.

Erec and Elizabeth sat on their mother’s lap. She bounced them up and down on her knees and sang a silly song about dragons. Then she became serious. “I want you both to remember that dragons are beautiful, wonderful creatures. There are a lot of people who are afraid of them, and who would be happy to slay them from fear or greed—because dragons’ lairs are full of riches. But the best thing that a dragon can give you is its friendship. Someday, I will take you to meet some dragons, and you will see for yourselves how noble they are.”

“Daddy said he helped one of the dragons once. He saved its life,” Erec said.

Queen Hesti gave them a hug. “That’s true, Erec. When you are grownup kings and queens someday you will protect the dragons, won’t you?”

“Yes, I will!” Elizabeth hugged her mother.

“Me too,” Erec said. “Maybe I’ll get to be a dragon someday!”

Erec smiled. His mother must have had no idea at the time that he actually would become part dragon! He wondered for a moment about why it was important for Baskania to find his mother . . . and then another of his memories was jogged.

Erec was lying in bed in the nursery, his brother and sister in their beds nearby. Queen Hesti sat on a tall velvet chair overlooking all of them. Her hair was a mess of red curls today—Erec liked it this way, even though it looked different every day. But her soft green-gray eyes and high cheekbones stayed the same. She was beautiful, tall, and regal, and it seemed to Erec that she could do absolutely anything.

“Someday you three will be the next rulers of our kingdoms,” she said. “And I will have an important part in that. You can’t become kings and queens unless I am there to pass on the crowns to you. Daddy once had that power, but he gave it to me for safekeeping. So now I have a big job to do one day.”

“Why did Daddy give you the power?” Edward asked. “Why can’t I have it?”

Queen Hesti laughed. “Maybe someday you all will, when your children are old enough to rule. But our good friend, the Hermit, said I should be the one to be in charge of it. Just in case something happened to Daddy, he said.”

“What does the power make you do?” Erec asked.

She smiled. “It passes the leadership from father to son, uncle to son, and aunt to daughter. We could have made it work in lots of ways, but I decided that I’d pass it along to you by my kiss.”