The Merchant of Death (37 page)

“Mallos isn't there,” said Uncle Press. “My guess is he's on a horse riding as fast as he can to get as far away from here as possible.”

Indeed, Mallos was nowhere to be seen. That was further proof that everything was happening according to his plan.

And that's when it hit me.

“I. . . I've got an idea,” I said without even thinking. Even as I said it I was still working it through my head, calculating the possibilities and the chances of it working.

Uncle Press and Loor looked at me, but I didn't respond to them at first. I still had to work things out.

“Don't take your time, Bobby,” said Uncle Press. “We don't have much.”

“Okay, okay,” I said nervously. “There might be a way, but if it doesn't work, we're all dead.”

“We are all dead anyway,” said Loor.

Good point. I looked down to the stadium and realized that I was about to volunteer to do something crazy. If I did it, I'd probably die. If I didn't do it, we'd
definitely
die. Probably was better than definitely.

“I think I know how to stop this party,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster, which wasn't much. Before I said another word, two more chimes sounded and the crowd fell silent. Rellin and the miners stood next to their wicked gift. Queen Kagan dropped her roast and leaned over the railing to look down on them.

“Tell me what it is you've brought me!” she shouted greedily.

If we were going to do something, now was the time.

“G
ood day, Queen Kagan!” shouted Rellin from the center of the stadium field.

This was probably the first time a Milago miner had addressed a Bedoowan monarch. Ever. It was probably going to be the last. Rellin had everyone's attention in the stadium. I hoped that he had a lot to say, because if he decided to keep it short and reach for the bomb button, my plan had no chance of working. But if he took this opportunity to say what was on his mind and make some kind of grand political statement for the history books, then maybe we'd have a chance.

For my plan to work, we each had a different task. Unfortunately my job was probably the most dangerous. It's not that I wanted the most dangerous task, but it was the only job I was capable of pulling off. Lucky me.

I quickly told my idea to Uncle Press and Loor. They didn't even stop to discuss it. The time for debate was over and since nobody had any better ideas, my plan was a “go.” The plan called for the three of us to split up. Before we had the chance to share a “good luck” or a “good-bye,” Loor was off and running. Typical. Uncle Press didn't run off as quickly. He stayed
long enough to give me this look of unclelike concern. I felt like I needed to say something important, but the only thing that came to mind was, “I really wish you had let me go to that basketball game.” Okay, maybe not the most eloquent last words, but it was how I felt.

Uncle Press smiled and said, “No, you don't.” Then he took off running.

I hesitated a moment because, well, I was scared. But I also had to think about what Uncle Press just said. Sure, if I had gone to that basketball game I wouldn't be lying here facing certain death. But that's not where my head went. This is going to be hard to explain because I'm not really sure I understand it myself, but as dire as the situation was, it somehow felt right. Believe me, it's not like I was having fun or anything. Far from it. But when I took a few seconds to do a gut check, I got the strange feeling that this was the right place, no, the
only
place for me to be. What was that Traveler motto? “This is the way it was meant to be.” Okay, stupid motto, but it really felt to me as if this is the way it was meant to be. I don't mean to make this sound any more dramatic than it was, but the word that came to my mind right then was “destiny.” Maybe this was my destiny. Now I could only hope that I'd get the chance to play a basketball game again sometime. But that wouldn't happen if I didn't get moving. So I jumped up and ran to do my part of the plan.

As I ran along the top of the stadium, I wasn't worried about getting caught because all eyes were focused on Rellin. It must have been amazing for the Bedoowan people to see this Milago miner addressing their queen. It was a spectacle that never would have happened if Mallos hadn't orchestrated it. I guess that's the kind of thing Uncle Press
was talking about when he said that Mallos never did any of his own dirty work. He said how Mallos would influence others to do it for him. Well, Rellin was definitely about to do some dirty work, courtesy of Mallos.

“People of Denduron,” Rellin continued. “I come before you today with a gift that is more valuable than you can imagine.”

It seemed as if Rellin was indeed about to give a speech. That was good. Hopefully he was long-winded because I had no idea how much time it would take to pull off my plan.

“My gift is more valuable than the glaze you see before you,” he bellowed. “It is more valuable than all the glaze that has ever been taken from the mines. It is the gift of a wonderful future, and it is for
all
the good people of Denduron to share.”

Was this guy dramatic or what? Well, why not? He wasn't planning on being around long enough to hear any bad reviews. This was his moment in the spotlight. Keep going Rellin, I thought, make it good and long.

As I ran I saw that Loor and Uncle Press had already managed to pull off the first part of their jobs. They had each snuck up on a Bedoowan knight from behind, whacked them and taken their armor. They needed to wear the armor so they could make their way down to the stadium field without being noticed. That's why I gave them the jobs I did. There was no way I was going to knock out a knight and steal his armor. And even if by some miracle I was able to do that, I was too small. If I put on the armor I'd look like a little kid wearing his daddy's clothes.

No, I had another job and I knew exactly where I had to go. It was only yesterday that I had been there. At the time I swore never to go near the place again but here I was, headed right back. It only took me a few minutes to get there. I was
pretty fast, so running three hundred yards was nothing. But as I approached my destination I had a moment's hesitation. I thought that maybe if I ran fast enough and far enough, I could survive the blast from the tak bomb. But that thought lasted only about a nanosecond. There was no way I was going to bail on the plan.

At this point it wasn't even the bomb I was afraid of. That's because I had arrived at my destination: the horrible hole that looked down into the dark depths of the quig pens.

Yup, if my plan was going to work, I was going to have to climb down there and make my way to the stadium through a minefield of hungry quigs. And I didn't have my trusty whistle to protect me either. This could hurt. I stood on the edge of the hole trying to get the nerve to climb down. The rope ladder was in a heap at the bottom of the hole, right where it had fallen yesterday. But the thick rope that Loor had climbed to make her escape was still hanging there. That was my ticket down. I had to stop worrying and kick myself into gear because Rellin could hit that button at any second. So I grabbed the rope, swung my legs over, and slid down the rope into the pit of hell.

When I got to the bottom the first thing that hit me was the smell. It was as nasty as I had remembered it. Then I realized I had landed in a puddle of some kind of thick brown goo. I realized what it was and I nearly barfed. It was a congealed pool of blood from the quig that Uncle Press had skewered. I fought back the rising puke and quickly looked around. The injured quig wasn't there. Maybe it was dead. Better still, maybe it had been eaten by the other quigs. Can you believe this was the way my mind was working now?

My next goal was to get to the door that led to the stadium as fast as possible. I couldn't sneak quietly through the
quig pen. No, I had to beat feet and get there fast, so I took off running in the direction I remembered traveling the day before. The run through the quig pen was terrifying. As I rounded each turn in the labyrinth, I kept expecting to see a monster quig waiting there with its mouth open, ready for dinner. My adrenaline was pumping so hard I don't think I could have walked slowly and cautiously if I'd wanted to. I should have been exhausted by now, but I wasn't. Fear will do that. If a quig didn't get me, then the bomb would. I wasn't sure which would be more painful. My guess is that the bomb would be quicker. But I forced those morbid thoughts away because the goal was to stay alive, not choose the least painful way to die.

After a few more turns I saw the door to the stadium. I had made it! Believe me, I never thought I'd get this far. I ran to the huge door and put my ear to it. I could hear Rellin still giving his speech. That was good. But there was another sound I wanted to hear as well. The job I had given to Loor was to get down to the stadium floor and unlock the door. That wouldn't be easy because as soon as she started to lift the heavy latch, somebody would certainly see her and try to stop her. Timing was everything. If she opened the door too soon, my plan would fail. If she opened it too late, my plan would fail. There was a small window of opportunity and it was getting close.

I listened again, and that's when I heard it. Two quick raps on the door. That was the signal. Loor had made it and was standing outside. Excellent! Now she had to wait for my signal before opening the door. Of course she had no way of knowing if I was on the other side or not. For all she knew I was being munched on by a quig who had a surprise treat fall into its lap. Still, I knew it didn't matter. She would stand
there until I signaled for her to open the door, or the bomb blew up. Whichever came first.

Now came the hardest part of all. Talk about gut-check time. Everything that I had done up to this point was easy compared to what I had to do next. I looked around for something to help me and found a metal shield that one of the Bedoowan knights had dropped yesterday before he became quig food. I needed something else, too. I hoped to find one of the knight's spears, but for some reason they were gone. Time was running out, I had to move faster. I looked around again and saw the perfect thing. It turned my stomach to use it, but I couldn't let my squeamish belly stop me from doing what I had to do. So I picked it up. It was a leg bone. A human leg bone. As disgusting as it was, it was exactly what I needed. At least this one didn't still have the foot attached. I fought back my disgust, took a few steps back into the cavern, and rang the dinner bell.

Yes, I was using myself as bait. I used the leg bone to bang on the metal shield and hopefully wake up any napping quig that had missed my crazed run a few seconds before. “Come on!” I shouted. “Come and get it! Tasty meat, right this way!”

This was insane. Think about it. I was putting myself out there to be eaten by a beast that had already devoured three people. My hands were shaking with fear. Whose idea was this, anyway? Oh, right. Mine.

I banged on the shield a few more times and the annoying sound echoed throughout the cavern. Another horrible thought went through my head. What if they could hear this from the stadium? If there was even a hint of a problem, Rellin would hit the button and the game would be over. “Let's go!” I shouted. “C'mon, you losers! I'm the guy who killed your
buddy up on the mountain! Come and get me!”

It came without so much as a warning. Yesterday when the quig attacked Uncle Press, it stalked him cautiously and slowly until it was close enough to pounce. That's not what was happening now. From far back in the depths of the rocky labyrinth I heard the bellow of a quig that was already charging! Maybe it was because of the annoying sound of the shield. Maybe it was my yelling. Maybe it was ravenously hungry. I'll never know, but whatever I had done, it worked. A quig was now charging toward me at a dead run. I could hear its giant paws pounding on the rocky surface as it rumbled closer, ready for the kill.

Now was the time. Now was the window of opportunity. Loor had to open that door fast or I'd be lunch. I dropped the shield, ran to the door and gave the secret, prearranged signal for Loor to do her thing.

“Open the damn door!” I yelled as loud as I could. How's that for a secret signal? Loor got the message. With my ear to the door I heard her fumbling with the heavy lock. This was the same lock that it took two knights to lift. I hoped that Loor had the strength to do it herself. Uncle Press could have helped, but he had his own job to take care of and was probably nowhere near the door. It was all up to Loor.

“Hurry!” I shouted. This was one time I didn't care about sounding cool or confident. I wanted her to know how close I was to being eaten. I heard a roar, turned back to look into the quig pens, and saw it. The quig. Its yellow eyes blazed as it charged through the pools of light, picking up speed, lusting for the kill. It was getting close enough that I could see bits of saliva flying from its open mouth. This thing was hungry and I was dinner. I threw my back against the door, hoping it would open. It didn't. I could hear Loor struggling
with the lock. If she took any longer, someone would surely see her and stop her. Or Rellin would push the button. One way or another, this would all be over in a few seconds.

The quig crouched lower to the ground. It was getting ready to pounce.

“If you don't open the door,” I shouted, “this quig is going to—” With a loud creak, the door swung open and I fell back. At that exact moment the quig sprang, but because I had fallen down it sailed over me and through the open door into the stadium. I swear I felt the breeze from its paws as they sailed over my head, inches from slicing me to pieces. I quickly jumped to my feet and ran into the stadium to see what was happening. The next few seconds were critical. It all came down to what the quig did . . . and Uncle Press.