As if in response, the wall at the back of the cell rumbled. A moment later, Bracken came through, bringing a white glow.
"Did you hear me?" Seth asked.
"Hear what?"
"Talking to myself?"
"No," Bracken said. "But don't worry, most of us end up chatting with ourselves on occasion. All part of the fun. How did it go?"
"He took me to meet Nagi Luna."
"You're teasing."
"I wish."
"Are you all right?"
Seth shrugged. "They didn't beat me or anything. She kept screaming in my mind. She can talk like you, telepathically. She acted like she wanted to team up against the Sphinx. What she really wanted was to get inside my head. Wait a minute."
"What?"
"When I use that coin, you can read my thoughts, can't you?"
"Yes. Mostly just the thoughts you send to me."
Seth went and plopped on the cot. It swayed and creaked beneath his weight. "How do I know that's true? How do I know you're not scouring my brain for secrets?"
"I guess you don't," Bracken said. "You don't have to use it."
"What's with everybody reading minds around here?"
"You could hear her, but she couldn't read your mind unless you let her."
"Like I let you."
"I see your concern."
Seth leaned back on his cot. He placed his hands behind his head. "Now I feel like I'm talking to a psychologist."
"Tell me about your childhood," Bracken joked.
"I've heard wraiths and zombies in my mind," Seth said. "But I've never mentally talked to a friend. Kendra used to describe what it was like talking to the Fairy Queen."
"Your sister? She spoke with the Fairy Queen?" He sounded keenly interested.
"Whoops. Maybe I shouldn't get into that. I guess it's no big secret anymore. The Sphinx knows that she's fairykind."
"You mean fairystruck?"
"No, fairykind. The Sphinx was the first to diagnose her, actually. I probably shouldn't talk about that stuff. Sounds like Maddox and the others haven't."
Bracken reached out a hand and hoisted Seth to his feet. "Whether or not the Sphinx knows about your sister, you're right that you should keep that kind of information to yourself. As a unicorn, I know the significance of a human becoming fairykind. That status is very rare, and shows a tremendous amount of trust from the Fairy Queen. She has never bestowed trust easily."
"Do you know her?"
Bracken looked inexplicably uncomfortable. "All unicorns know the Fairy Queen." After a brief pause, he smiled and clapped Seth on the arm. "Come with me, I want to show you something. I figured you could use some cheering up after your interlude with the Sphinx."
Seth followed Bracken out into the passage. They travelled the opposite direction from when they had visited Maddox. Bracken guided Seth through a secret door, up a crude stairway, through a crawl space, out a hidden hatchway, and down a cramped hall. Near the end of the hallway Bracken stopped.
"I'm about to show you my favorite place."
"Okay," Seth said, suitably curious.
"I mean my favorite place in the dungeon."
"I get it."
Bracken simultaneously pressed and turned two stones, and a section of the wall swiveled open, turning on a central pivot. As Bracken led the way through the entrance, he extinguished his stone and felt along the wall. He flipped a switch and overhead lights turned on, along with a few lamps and a pair of ceiling fans.
"No way," Seth breathed. Five pinball machines lined one wall. Three dartboards hung on another. A pool table helped fill the middle of the room, balls racked and ready. Nearby stood a ping-pong table and a Foosball table. On one side of the room, three leather couches huddled around a flat-screen television. A large weight machine dominated the far corner of the room, flanked by a treadmill and a rack of free weights. A huge jukebox stood to one side of the secret entrance.
Seth wandered over to the Foosball table. Indians versus cowboys.
"Recognize it?" Bracken asked.
"Why?"
"Because you went straight to it, and it just barely showed up."
Seth nodded. "I think I played Foosball against the Sphinx on this table when I first met him. Or one just like it. Kendra did too."
"This room is our best evidence that the Sphinx knows we sneak around down here," Bracken said. "In fact, with what you mentioned about the Foosball table, we can consider it a certainty. He uses this room to incentivize good behavior. If we act up, things disappear. Sometimes the room is left empty. As we behave, items show up. It has never been openly acknowledged that this place exists. Welcome to the dungeon rec center."
"Does the TV work?"
"Everything works. The TV gets lots of channels."
"How did he get electricity down here?"
"Wires?"
"Right." Seth walked over to a pinball machine. He tapped the flipper buttons.
"The yellow button starts the game," Bracken advised. "Who has the high score?"
"Me. On all of them."
Seth turned to face Bracken. "I'm going to take you down."
"I'd like to see that," Bracken chuckled. "I have pretty good reflexes, and I've been playing them for almost forty years."
Seth frowned. "I bet you're pretty good at pool."
"I've had a little practice."
Seth shrugged. "I can live with getting schooled. It would sure beat sitting on my cot listening to the water drip."
"Agreed."
Seth ran a hand along the pool table. "If we start a riot, all of this will go away."
Bracken crossed to a rack on the wall and selected a cue. "This room will be empty for years. And they'll do their best to seal up as many passageways as they can find."
Seth selected a cue for himself. "Do we have a chance of succeeding?"
Bracken chalked the tip of his stick. "Not much. But I'm not willing to let the world end without a fight so I can keep playing ping-pong."
"Then we should probably enjoy this room while we have it."
Bracken twirled the cue stick expertly. "My sentiments exactly." He crouched over the table and sent the cue ball rocketing into the others.
Chapter 11 Vanessa's Secret
Kendra swam in a shallow, syrupy lake. The viscous liquid made it a challenge for her to keep her head up, but she didn't want to touch the bottom, either, populated as it was with slimy, squirmy creatures that might bite or sting. The brownish scum on the surface pulled and wrinkled as she carved a slow path through it, arms and legs churning awkwardly. She could not see the shore. Her only landmarks were dead limbs protruding from the mire.
Grandma jostled her shoulder, and Kendra jerked awake, relieved to be free of the uncomfortable dream, but somewhat confused because she saw no evidence of daybreak. A glance at the clock on the nightstand confirmed that it was 3:22 A.M.
"What's going on?" Kendra asked, fear dispelling her drowsiness.
"No great emergency," Grandma soothed. "We're about to learn Vanessa's secret."
Kendra bolted upright. "What is it?"
"Visitors," Grandma said. "Stan, Tanu, and Warren are meeting them at the gate."
"It could be a trick," Kendra warned. What if they admitted a pair of dragons in human form? Or that wizard Mirav?
"Vanessa whispered the secret to Stan about an hour ago," Grandma said. "Apparently she has been in communication with somebody important, and that person is coming here tonight. Stan was satisfied with her explanation. He'll be careful. You should get dressed."
Kendra slid out of bed and started changing her clothes. "You don't know the details?"
"Not yet. The plan is to discuss the situation back in time."
"And I get to come?" Kendra asked hopefully.
"Vanessa suggested that you should be there."
Kendra felt delighted to be included. Who were these mysterious visitors? Kendra could not formulate a reasonable guess. Dare she hope it might be her parents? Or Seth? Would that need to be a big secret?
Dressed in jeans and a comfortable top, Kendra followed Grandma down to the entry hall. The door opened as they arrived. Grandpa entered, followed by a masked figure of medium height wearing a loose, hooded cloak. The cartoonish rubber mask depicted a scowling man with squinty eyes, fat lips, and fleshy cheeks. A shorter person, perhaps a young child, entered as well, wearing a mask like a grinning dog with the tongue lolling out. Warren and Tanu brought up the rear.
"I'm glad you're up, Kendra," Grandpa said. He gestured to the stairs. "This way."
Kendra and Grandma joined the procession to the secret side of the attic. Kendra still had no guess regarding the identity of the disguised visitors. She hoped Grandpa knew what he was doing, letting these masked strangers into the most secretive room in the house.
When they reached the attic, Coulter awaited them with the Chronometer. "We're set for a night ten years ago. The attic should be empty."
"Well done, Coulter," Grandpa said. "Kendra, Warren, and Ruth will be joining me and our taller visitor. The other visitor will await us here."
"Won't be much of a wait for the rest of us," Tanu said.
"Right," Grandpa said. "Our conversation will seem like a blink to those who remain behind. The advice from Patton helped Coulter crack the code for setting the Chronometer. We'll do as many sessions in the past as it takes to bring everyone up to speed."
Kendra felt excited to be part of the first group to learn the secret, although she wasn't overly eager to have the breath knocked out of her again. She, Grandma, Grandpa, Warren, and the mystery guest gathered around the Chronometer.
"For the sake of modesty," Grandma said, "I submit you all keep your eyes shut while I track down some blankets."
"Sounds sensible," Grandpa agreed. "Everybody place a hand on the device."
They complied. He slid a symbol along a groove and flipped the switch.
Kendra braced herself, tightening her abdominals, but it did nothing to thwart the alarming sensation of the breath rushing out of her lungs. Eyes shut, Kendra clutched her midsection, shoulders heaving as she tried to jump-start her breathing. After a weak cough, air began to flow in and out.
She heard Grandma moving around. The stranger would be completely uncovered. Kendra resisted peeking. She would know soon enough.
She heard and sensed a light click on. From behind, Grandma placed a soft comforter over Kendra's shoulders. Kendra wrapped the comforter around herself.
"Okay," Grandma said after a moment. "Open your eyes."
Kendra did, and gazed at the visitor. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her a second time. The stranger was Grandma Larsen.
"I'm so sorry," Grandma Larsen said gently, eyes on Kendra.
Grandma Larsen was dead! She and Grandpa Larsen had asphyxiated together! Kendra had attended the funeral, had seen her embalmed corpse in her casket!
"How is this possible?" Kendra asked numbly, disbelief impeding her happiness. Could this really be Grandma Larsen, who snuck her candy and took her to the park and made cheese empanadas? The grandmother who had actually been there while she and Seth were growing up?
"You should be able to guess, Kendra," Grandma Larsen said. "Your family buried stingbulbs."
Kendra made a sound, half laugh, half whimper. Tears of relief sprang to her eyes. Her joy was tinged with a sense of betrayal. How could her grandparents put all of them through this? With a stab of guilt, Kendra realized this was a glimpse of how her parents would feel when they learned they had not actually buried their daughter.
"Incredible," Grandma Sorenson murmured.
"What about Uncle Tuck and Aunt Kim?" Kendra asked.
"Sadly, they really died in that trailer," Grandma Larsen said. "We used the opportunity of their demise to stage our own deaths alongside them."
Grandpa pulled his blanket more snugly around himself. "Then what happened?"
"Let me try to summarize," Grandma Larsen said. "Your grandfather and I have long worked as spies for the Knights of the Dawn. This was while the Sphinx still served as Captain, so masks were worn, and almost nobody knew us. Stan and Ruth were exceptions. As our assignments became more sensitive, Hank and I pretended to retire. The Sphinx knew that we remained active, as did our Lieutenant, but neither had ever met us face-to-face. We communicated with our leaders via coded messages, using false names. Several other spies for the Knights behaved in similar fashion. After all, once your cover is blown, your career as a spy is over. Anonymity is everything. Unlike Stan and Ruth, who were busy as caretakers, Hank and I were able to live dual lives, spending time at home between assignments."
"You went on vacations pretty often," Kendra remembered. "They weren't real?"
"Usually not. In the months leading up to our staged deaths, the Society of the Evening Star became more active than ever. Around this time, your grandfather received the opportunity to become assistant caretaker at Living Mirage."
"Living Mirage?" Warren asked.
"The fifth secret preserve," Grandma Larsen said. "The Sphinx is the caretaker."
"Oh, no," Grandma Sorenson gasped.
"Accepting the position of assistant caretaker would make Hank the most deeply placed spy in enemy ranks. The catch was that going to Living Mirage meant never leaving. Only an inner circle of five Society members are allowed to come and go from Living Mirage, which is how the secret has been preserved. Even within the Society, almost nobody knows that Living Mirage exists."