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Chapter Twenty Four

I lay on the cot Opisthia had given me, surrounded by the slow and easy breathing of the sleeping monks. These were the sisters’ quarters, and the room stretched almost as far as I could see both to the left and right. There was no roof, only the soft, sparkling blanket of the night sky above us.

“Don’t let the others find out about us,” Sister Swoosh mumbled in her sleep. She was a few bunks to my right, snoring lightly and hugging her spearhammer—which had an entire roll of duct tape holding it together—like a stuffed animal. “I know all your ticklish spots, Hummy…”

A symphony of snores and rustling sheets filled the air, leaving me tossing and turning more than that time I had tried taking a nap in the dryer at home. I was grateful for the noise, though, because without it I would have been all alone with my thoughts—and those made for poor company on the best of days.

“What ho, blackguard! Abandoning thy oldest friend and truest ally to rot away in yonder dungeon for all eternity? Verily, what depths of depravity thou hast sunketh to!”

“Holdeth thy tongue, knave! Verily, she acted only in righteous anger for the peril that the rotter hath plungedeth her clan and kin into! Justified is she, and thou deserveth to be skewered thricely if thou holdeth disagreements within thy gob!”

In true Henry Rider fashion, I couldn't even have a nervous breakdown without my stupid brain making it as overdramatic as possible. Tonight, my conflicting emotions took the form of Sir Lanceloyal and the Black Knight Snitchelangelo, and they were busy duking it out inside my skull with all the clanking and clanging you would expect from two grown men in full plate armor.

“The poor lad felt he was abandoned by yon cur!” Sir Lanceloyal accused, walloping Snitchelangelo in the face with a spiked morning star. “She hath gone galivanting from adventure to adventure with her other two compatriots, but did it ever crosseth her mind to invite the vertically challenged ginger rapscallion? Nay, I say! Nay!”

“Neigh all thou liketh, thou obstreperous clydesdale,” Snitchelangelo countered, loading Lanceloyal into a catapult and launching him into orbit, “but even thou canst not deny that she withheldeth her companionship only out of benevolence! Yonder fair maiden leads a perilous existence, and thus she seekeths to protect those she holds dear in her heart of hearts! And what safer place be-eth there than at a great considerable distance from her person?”

There was a deep, echoing BOOM inside my skull as Lanceloyal dropped a castle on top of Snitchelangelo. This will probably come as a surprise to you, but I don’t actually know anything about medieval combat.

“Thou canst make that claim whilst she still keepeths her beloved sourpuss and his moony-eyed djinn upon so short a leash!” he declared. “If such exceptions can be madeth on their account, then surely a similar concession can be madeth for him as well!”

Snitchelangelo rose from the castle on the back of a dragon. “The time for such negotiations hath passed! For the danger the traitorous imp hath placed upon the fair maiden’s clan and kin, she shall no longer brook his presence at her round table, and instead may swiftly and justly casteth him out onto his pale and red-spotted hindquarters!”

The dragon lunged, swallowing Sir Lanceloyal in one gulp.

“Yet hast thou considered,” Lanceloyal said from its belly, “that thou willingly partaketh of the scent of thine own flatulence?”

And so it continued for the entire night, one scathing retort after another, until the sun finally rose over the eastern…thing. Wherever Jah Beryge was, it didn’t exactly have a horizon. Or maybe it did, and I was just too tired to recognize it. The morning bell rang out, and the monks leaped out of bed in perfect unison like a choreographed dance number. I, for my part, managed to roll out of bed and faceplant onto the hard, cold marble floor. Grumbling to myself, blinking heavy eyelids, I trudged out into the hallway like the zombie I almost was.

The sister’s quarters let out onto a narrow, railingless walkway that I had at least had the presence of mind to stick to the center of. I was this close to saving my family. I wasn’t about to risk throwing that away by sleepwalking off a bridge now. Before long, the walkway intersected with the one leading to the brother’s quarters, forming a much larger platform that led to the nearby dining hall.

“Morning!” Ethan greeted me with an encouraging smile. He blinked in surprise, the smile fading a little. “What are you wearing?”

I looked down, and saw that I still had my bed sheets wrapped around my waist. I had been trailing them behind me all this time like some kind of billowy, badly fitting skirt.

“A kilt,” I said, looking Ethan dead in the eye and daring him to challenge me on this. “Traditional Scottish war attire. You got a problem with that?”

There was a green flash, and Jade appeared beside Ethan.

“Henry, are you okay?” she asked, not bothering to hide the worry on her face.

“I’ll feel fine after I finish the third Trial and get my family back,” I said, turning my glare on her.

“You look a little—”

“Come on,” I said, brushing past her and tugging my kilt free, “let’s go see what these guys serve for breakfast.”

To my relief, neither of them argued with me. As tired as I was, I don’t think I could have made words come tongue mouth fast speed to make good feels no worry camel butter Roosevelt doorbell.

Breakfast consisted of more Greek food like koulouri, tiropita, spanakopita, bougatsa, paximadia, tiganites, loukoumades, yiaourti me meli, feta me meli, staka me avga, kagianas, strapatsada, eliopsomo, choriatiko psomi, and anthotyro me meli. And lacstarb. Lots and lots of lacstarb. My anxiety about today’s Trial was making my stomach do front flips inside me, which would have ruined my appetite if thinking about Aesop hadn’t already been making it do backflips, effectively leaving it just, you know, sitting there inside me and waiting to be filled up with anything and everything within reach. And I admit, after doing my morning routine of mimicking a rabid vacuum cleaner, I did feel a little bit better. Not much, but life always seems a little less intimidating when you have a full stomach.

“RIDER OF HENRIES!” came the now-familiar deep, booming voice, and I looked up from my empty plate to see Opisthia making his way over. To my surprise, though, it wasn’t Fatty’s arm he was currently perched on. This monk was more…normal shaped. I guess even immortal puppet bearers need their beauty sleep. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Like a million dollars,” I lied.

“Fantastic! Then are you ready to begin the third Trial in your quest to claim the First Hunter’s Hammer?”

I nodded and stood up, swaying a little as the food made me even groggier. “Let’s get this shaloney on the baloney.”

Opisthia cocked his cotton-stuffed head. “What?”

“What?” I asked back.

“Oooh, boy,” I heard Ethan mutter behind me.

Opisthia looked at me curiously for a few seconds, then shrugged his nonexistent shoulders and turned to lead the way. “Very well, then. Follow me, Rider of Henries!”

Ethan and Jade scrambled to their feet as I followed Opisthia out of the dining hall and across Jah Beryge. We crossed one bridge after another, and my palms started to sweat a little every time I had to step aside to make room for one of the other monks. I was fairly sure I was awake enough not to step out over the bottomless void by accident, but…well, I’d done stupider things in the past.

The very near past.

Don’t look, I told myself as we rounded a corner, and the tower leading down to Aesop’s dungeon came into view. Don’t you dare look!

We went around another corner, and I sighed in relief when it was lost to view. Jade put a sympathetic hand on my arm.

“This is the very center of Jah Beryge,” Opisthia said as we came to a large, perfectly circular platform not far from the Vault of Vulgar Humor. “This way, please. And watch your step!”

He began to descend a set of stairs that circled the outer edge of the platform, and I realized that unlike the rest of Jah Beryge, this wasn’t a platform. It was the massive pillar I had seen when I’d first gotten here. Glancing over the edge, I realized that the stairs must have gone all the way down to…whatever was down there.

“This Trial is going to be more difficult than the last two in more ways than one,” Opisthia said when I caught up with him.

“Wonderful,” I muttered.

“You recall the lock on the hammer’s gate?” he asked, looking at me over the monk’s shoulder.

“You mean the one I can almost crawl inside?” I asked. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Good. Because for your final Trial, you are going to retrieve the key and bring it back here.”

I nodded slowly. “And where is this key?”

“Out there,” Opisthia answered, turning to gaze out across the abyss that surrounded Jah Beryge.

“I figured,” I said with a sigh.

We continued downwards for a while. My legs were already beginning to hurt, and I did my best not to imagine what the return trip was going to be like—tired, probably all banged up, and with an enormous key I would have to lug back up to the top. But then something caught my ear. It was faint, but when I cocked my head, I could just make it out. It almost sounded like…

“Careful, Henry!” Jade warned me as I stepped over to the edge of the stairway and looked down.

There, still a mind bogglingly long way below us, but near enough to make out with the naked eye, was an ocean. Dark blue waves crashed against the pillar that supported Jah Beryge in a slow, rhythmic pattern. Apart from the pillar, it was nothing but water for as far as the eye could see—and, I was willing to bet, a great deal further than that. It was so overwhelming to look at that I forced myself to retreat to the other side of the staircase, where the solid marble wall would make sure I stayed safe and sound on solid gr—

I missed a step, and decided to show Opisthia my impression of a slinky.

Three minutes later, I finally came to a stop. With my head spinning and pounding at the same time, I forced myself to sit up—and realized that I was at the bottom of the stairs. A wooden pier extended out from the base of the pillar, and moored to it was a single masted pirate ship.

“Henry! Are you okay?” Ethan yelled as he and Jade came pounding down the stairs behind me.

“Of course I am,” I said, getting up and taking a puff from my inhaler. “I was just tired of waiting for you slowpokes, so I decided to take a shortcut.”

“Henry…” Jade said exasperatedly.

I ignored her and looked back the way I’d come just as Opisthia came around the curve at a leisurely pace.

“Permission to come aboard, Captain?” he shouted.

“Stuff a flamingo down your pants!” a voice shouted from somewhere I couldn’t see.

“That means yes,” Opisthia said, climbing the gangplank. I followed him, with Ethan and Jade half a step behind. “Welcome aboard the good ship, the Jiggly Trombone. It and its captain will be taking you to where you can find the key.”

Loud, clomping footsteps came from nearby, and I turned to see an old man climb the steps from belowdeck to join us. He had a greasy, unkempt beard that had been dyed school bus yellow and had one of those stick guys from the “Caution: Wet Floor” signs drawn on it. A half-eaten tricorn hat sat on his head.

“When I was your age, I curled my hair with a spatula,” he said matter-of-factly, then nodded respectfully to Opisthia. “Twenty seven pots of old tires?”

“Yes, these three will be your passengers. Thank you for agreeing to carry them today, Captain.” Opisthia turned to us. “This is Captain Kook. It is only by his patience and generosity that you have any hope of reaching the key. I highly recommend not taking that for granted.”

I turned to Captain Kook and gave him a formal bow. “We’re honored to sail with you, Captain.”

“Guacamole,” he agreed solemnly.

“This is going to be a nightmare,” I heard Ethan whisper.

“Shh!” Jade hissed.

“Once you set off, the Trial will be entirely in your hands,” Opisthia said to us. “If you return to Jah Beryge without the key, you will not be given another chance.”

I folded my arms skeptically. “So all we have to do is ride this boat…”

“Parakeet!”

“…ship, sorry,” I amended. “And then get the key from wherever it takes us?”

“In essence, yes,” said Opisthia.

“That sounds a little too convenient for the most difficult Trial in more ways than one,” Ethan said. “What’s the catch?”

Opisthia turned to him, and I got the feeling he was giving Ethan a knowing smile. “Well, there is one other detail I suppose you should know about.”

“Here it comes,” I muttered, and Jade nodded in resignation.

“Out there on the Sea Betwixt, you will find a great and mighty pillar, much like this one,” he explained, motioning toward the massive stone column we had just spent the last half hour descending. “The key is at the top. There are no stairs, so you will have to make your way to it by your own strength and ingenuity.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Jade said hopefully.

Ethan, however, wasn’t convinced. “And?”

“And,” the puppet confessed, “it is guarded by a monster.”

“There it is!” all three of us said together.

The monk extended his arm, giving Opisthia the illusion of leaning in toward us conspiratorially. “The beast is called Daggum.”

“I’ve heard of him!” Jade exclaimed, both to my surprise and complete un-surprise. “He’s known as the Y’alldritch Horror, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Opishita answered with a nod, “and he is a foe unlike any you have ever faced, Rider of Henries. You should not attempt to slay him—and as someone dedicated to the eradication of evil, that is not something I say lightly. Challenge him only as much as you must in order to reach the key, and then flee! Do you understand?”

I nodded, and Opisthia drew back. “Wonderful! I will see you all when you get back. Have a pleasant trip!”

The nameless monk hurried back down the gangplank as if he were afraid he would get swept along on this misadventure with us if he was too slow. A bell rang out, and I turned to see Captain Kook standing behind the ship’s steering wheel. Yes, I know it’s called a helm. No, I will not be calling it that. Leave me alone.

“I want to ride a pony!” Captain Kook shouted, as the mooring lines untied themselves from the dock.

The floor lurched beneath my feet, and the Jiggly Trombone was off.


NEXT CHAPTER 12/24/25