The House of Power

  Edgar got up and glanced at the sleeping man.

  “Can you go outside and leave me alone with him?” asked Edgar. It was an odd request.

  “I suppose we could, but why?” asked Maude, baffled.

  “I have some questions I’d like to ask him that only he can answer, but I don’t want him to think you had anything to do with it. I don’t want to endanger you or your plans.”

  Edgar saw they were both puzzled by what he wanted to do.

  “Someone is bound to come into the inn soon, and my chance will be lost,” said Edgar. “Please trust me, won’t you? It will only take a moment to get what I need, but you can’t be involved. He’ll know you’re against them. They’ll know.” Edgar raised his head in a gesture toward the Highlands.

  Struck by the determination on Edgar’s face, Briney and Maude conceded. They started for the front room to lock the door to the inn, but Edgar stopped them.

  “Do you suppose I could get you to help me tie him up?” said Edgar. “I can’t have him reaching across the table or trying to escape.”

  He scratched his eye, and the two adults looked at one another. They didn’t say anything, but instead seemed to read each other’s mind and know without asking what the other had decided.

  “We’ll need a good long bit of rope,” said Briney.

  “I know just the place,” continued Maude, moving to the very back of the darkened room.

  Edgar had achieved one small victory, but it was yet to be seen if the man would read the page hidden in Edgar’s pocket.

  When Sir Emerik woke up, he didn’t open his eyes immediately. First he sat up and tried to stretch his arms over his head, which was something he was in the habit of doing whenever he got out of bed in his room in the House of Power. He was still sleepy, and it felt like he was trapped in a dream in which he couldn’t move. He was so very tired that he thought it best to go back to sleep for just a little longer. Another hour won’t hurt. Then I’ll go about the village and make the long walk to the grove. Such a long walk.

  He was about to drift back into a dreamy world when he felt something hot near his face, which forced him to open his eyes.

  The room was dark, and it took Sir Emerik a moment to see much of anything other than a glowing orange object near his right cheek. He blinked furiously and wished he could wipe the mush out of his eyes, but he was still immobile. As he became more conscious, he was able to make out the figure of a boy sitting in a chair across the table from him.

  “Don’t move,” Edgar said. “You wouldn’t want to get burned.”

  Edgar had a flaming torch in his hand, the fire dancing just to the side of Sir Emerik’s head. The room was otherwise empty. Briney and Maude had gone outside to keep anyone from coming in.

  Sir Emerik was fully awake now and became aware that he had been tied to a chair. The grime in his eyes had moved off to the corners, and he could see Edgar clearly. He saw that the boy had been hit in the face and wondered if Mr. Ratikan had belted him with his walking stick.

  “You better know what you’re doing, boy,” Sir Emerik said in his most threatening tone. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

  Edgar remained undeterred. He put the page down on the table where the open flame of the torch illuminated the words.

  “Read that to me. Read it quickly or I’ll set your hair on fire.”

  Sir Emerik could hardly believe what was happening. He was at once enraged at the audacity of the boy before him and overjoyed at the prospect of having found Edgar and the missing page. If only I’d stayed awake, I’d have them both in my grasp. There must be a way to bring things under my control.

  “You’ve been to the Highlands, haven’t you?”

  Edgar only looked at Sir Emerik and waited.

  “How else would you have gotten that page from Samuel?”

  He paused, letting the boy think on what he’d said; then he turned very serious.

  “There are very harsh consequences for climbing around on the cliffs—you know this. And there are even harsher punishments for having a page of writing in your possession. You’re in quite a lot of trouble, aren’t you, Edgar?”

  Edgar reeled back slightly on his chair when he heard his name called out. Samuel must have told them.

  “Oh, yes, we know all about young Edgar. We have our ways.” Sir Emerik leaned forward as much as the ropes would allow. Now, finish this miserable lad for good.

  “If you’re caught, they’ll break your legs. They’ll make sure you never go climbing around again. There’s no place to hide, Edgar. Even if you escape the inn, we’ll find you, and then you’ll pay.” Sir Emerik was beginning to feel very confident—despite the fact that he was still tied up, and Edgar hadn’t even flinched with discomfort at his words.

  “I can help you, Edgar. I will help you. Just untie me and I’ll get you out of the trouble you’re in.”

  Sir Emerik leaned back on his chair with a smug look on his face, certain that he was about to be untied.

  Edgar moved the flame of the torch closer to Sir Emerik’s head. Then, with a quick flick of his wrist, he set the man’s hair on fire. Sir Emerik hadn’t even thought to prepare himself for the attack. The hair flamed up orange on one side with a burst of black smoke and bright light. Sir Emerik started to scream.

  Edgar tossed a bunny sack on Sir Emerik’s head, putting the flame out as fast as he had started it. When he pulled the sack from Sir Emerik’s head, a plume of smoke escaped, and Sir Emerik coughed and bellowed. The burnt hair smelled awful.

  “You’ve gone mad!” Sir Emerik shouted. Most of the hair on the right side of his head was gone. What remained was a glob of black goo that stuck to his scalp.

  “Read the page,” demanded Edgar. “Quickly now—time is short and I must be getting on.”

  “You’re a little madman, that’s what you are. A wee little madman!”

  Edgar put the torch in his other hand and held it next to the opposite side of Sir Emerik’s head.

  “Please, just read the page. It’s not that hard.”

  Sir Emerik looked down. Though it was written in a sloppy hand, it was a short message, and he was able to read the few words written there without too much difficulty. Part of what he read was quite a shock. But when he had regained his composure, Sir Emerik realized he could tell the boy part of what he’d read, but not all. How would Edgar know the difference? Sir Emerik relished this moment of bliss as he looked up at Edgar.

  “It won’t do you any good, what that page says,” Sir Emerik said. “It’s useless.”

  Edgar noticed that Sir Emerik’s face seemed somehow askew with all of the missing hair on one side, and he had to stop himself from setting the other side on fire to even things up. The poor man looked terrible.

  “I’ll decide that for myself. What does the page say?”

  Sir Emerik didn’t like the fact that this child was bossing him around. Flame or no flame, he couldn’t help looking at the boy with contempt. This was a mistake, for the moment he did so, Edgar set the other side of his head on fire.

  When the bunny sack was again thrown over Sir Emerik’s head and removed, and the acrid smoke had cleared, Sir Emerik looked symmetrical again, although there was a tuft of hair sticking up on top that Edgar was tempted to set ablaze.

  Edgar held the flame under Sir Emerik’s nose and asked once more if he would please just read the page. Exasperated and afraid, Sir Emerik finally relented.

  “It says there is a second book of secret things in Atherton.”

  Edgar wasn’t sure how to take the news. It was awful knowing that even if such a book existed, he wouldn’t be able to read it. He was forever having to rely on other people to get the information he needed.

  “What else does it say? Does it say where the book is?”

  “That’s just it,” cried Sir Emerik with a sinister laugh, his fear overcome by a chance to dash the boy’s hopes. “The only way to find it is to go below, to the Flatlands. Th
at’s what the page says. How do you like that, Edgar?”

  Sir Emerik was very pleased with himself because, to his knowledge, there was only one way to get down to the Flatlands: to climb. He could think of no better means to get rid of the boy than to send him on a quest that could end only in disaster. This foolhardy child would believe him and make a go of it, leaving only him—Sir Emerik—with the truth of what the page had actually revealed.

  “I’ve told you what you wanted to know, however useless it may be. Now set me free, you little monster!”

  But Edgar merely rose from his seat, took the page in his hand, and walked toward the door.

  “You can’t just leave me tied up like this, Edgar. You must let me go,” Sir Emerik insisted, still speaking in a condescending tone. It took all of Edgar’s will not to return to the table and burn off the last of the man’s hair. Instead, he dropped the torch into the fire, casually picked up the rest of the rabbit with the missing leg from the skiff, and departed without even a last glance at his captive.

  He could hear Sir Emerik shouting with indignation when he got outside, where he was greeted by Maude and Briney.

  “What did you do to that man? He sounds as though he’s going to kill someone!”

  “He’s all right, just angry.” Edgar decided not to mention the burned hair. Instead, he held out the cooked rabbit. “I know it’s asking a lot, but could I have this to take with me?”

  Briney waved his approval. “Of course you can have the rabbit. But what did he tell you? Where are you going?”

  There was no one else on Atherton who would even consider trying what he was about to do.

  “I’m going down to the Flatlands.”

  Maude and Briney both gasped at once.

  “What in the world are you talking about?” said Maude. “That’s not possible!”

  “I’ve already climbed up there,” said Edgar, pointing to the Highlands. “Twice.”

  “How could you have gotten all the way up there?”

  Edgar shrugged. “I’m a good climber. A very good climber.”

  “Well, I should say so,” said Briney. He ran his fingers through his coarse beard and gazed with stunned amazement at the cliffs and the boy before him.

  “You’ve been very kind,” Edgar said with genuine gratitude. “But I really must go.”

  Edgar started to move off, but Maude told him to wait a moment more. She ran around the back of the inn, and when she returned she had a small sack made of rabbit skin in her hand.

  “It’s water—the last we’ve got for today, but you can have it.”

  Edgar thanked them both, and then he was gone, making his way to the edge of the world.

  Briney and Maude opened the door to the inn with a look of astonishment at the sight of Sir Emerik’s charred head. When they got him free, they were surprised to find Sir Emerik smiling, for what he had read on the paper was a magnificent secret full of potential uses. He would save it for Lord Phineus when he got himself out of the mess he was in.

  CHAPTER

  16

  HORACE LEAVES HIS POST

  As morning turned to afternoon in the Highlands, word began to spread of the strange descent into Tabletop. Rumors were mounting of armed men from below preparing to loot and burn their Highland paradise. Fear flooded in liquid strides through delicate stone houses and along glistening streams, darkening the mood of all the families of the Highlands. Every man of the Highlands was bombarded with desperate questions as he left in the morning on orders from Sir Philip.

  “What shall we do if they come for our children? What if they come with torches to burn down the house? Will you ever return?”

  As the men gathered in a large open field with sharp wooden spears and horses, they wondered if the catastrophe called war that all of them had read about in books had finally found its way to Atherton.

  As Sir Philip went about the business of arming and instructing his men, Horace sat at the top of the stairs in his usual spot, pondering what he’d seen and heard the night before in the House of Power. He was back on duty after a morning of rest, and he looked down the hallway toward the main chamber, trying to imagine why Samuel had not returned. He was a good boy whose father had been taken from him. Why would Lord Phineus and the others want to torment the poor child by locking him in a room?

  “Horace?”

  He was jolted from his thoughts by Samuel’s mother, who had quietly crept up the stairs behind him. Anxiously rubbing the red blotch beneath her lip, she held a small loaf of bread out to him.

  “I came in late last night and Samuel wasn’t in his room. I’ve asked everyone in the courtyard and the kitchen, even Sir Emerik and Lord Phineus. Nobody seems to know where he’s gone.”

  Horace was embarrassed to accept the bread in exchange for information, but he was also very hungry. With all of the bustle in the House of Power, he hadn’t had a moment to eat. He took the bread and thanked Samuel’s mother.

  “You don’t look like you’ve slept,” said Horace.

  “I haven’t. I’ve been all over the Highlands searching for him. And with Tabletop coming so near and the rumors of what they might do…” Her voice trailed off and she dropped her head, rubbing the red spot once more. When she looked up, there was heartbreak in her voice.

  “Have you seen my boy, Horace?”

  Horace paused. Lord Phineus and his two men were gone, leaving their rooms and the chambers above empty and still. “I have an idea where he might be, but I’m not certain,” he said. “I’ll tell him to get on home if I see him.”

  “Did you see him during your shift last night?”

  Horace didn’t want to appear overly confident about the whereabouts of the boy. “The House of Power is in a bit of chaos, as you might have noticed. But I’ll look around as my duties allow. There are a few places I can check where he may have run off to.”

  “Thank you, Horace!” Samuel’s mother touched Horace on the shoulder awkwardly and took a few steps back down the stairs. “I’m already late for the kitchen. If you find him, send him there, won’t you?”

  Horace nodded and shooed her away. After taking a few bites of bread, he began his search. He knew the boy wouldn’t be in the main chamber or any of the three private rooms on the floor above that. He would be hidden at the top of the narrow, winding stairs if he were anywhere near this part of the House of Power.

  When he arrived at the door to the room where Samuel was locked away, he knocked on it and waited. Thinking he heard a stirring on the other side, he unlocked and opened the door. Samuel was crouching against the back wall, looking at Horace like a trapped animal.

  “Have you come to take me to the main chamber?” asked Samuel, certain he was being summoned for more questioning.

  “I’m here to take you to your mother, who’s worried sick about you,” said Horace. “You shouldn’t scare her like that. Hiding in here all night. Have you lost your mind?” He was pretending not to know the truth of Samuel’s imprisonment. Should Lord Phineus ask, it would be best to act as though he’d found Samuel and let him out, thinking he’d been locked in by accident while playing where he shouldn’t have been.

  “These doors have a way of locking on their own,” he went on. “Remember that the next time you go sneaking around!”

  Samuel was ready to dash out of the room until he remembered that one of his captors might be around any corner.

  “Nobody’s here, Samuel,” Horace reassured him. “Go see your mother in the kitchen.”

  Samuel grinned from ear to ear, free at last, and bolted for the stairs.

  “And tell your mother to bring me another loaf of bread,” Horace called after him. “I’m fit to die of hunger.”

  When Samuel reached the courtyard, he immediately sensed something had changed in the Highlands during the short time he’d been locked away. Baskets of food were carried past, men with tools and weapons raced from place to place. It seemed as though everyone was in a rush to get somew
here. The walls around the House of Power were guarded with a heavy presence of somber men, the likes of which he hadn’t seen before.

  Samuel’s mother beamed when he arrived in the kitchen, then she cried softly as they embraced. Samuel kept to Horace’s story and told her he’d locked himself in a room by accident. As he recounted his tale, she brought him a small baguette and a cup with water.

  “You must stop your sneaking around the House of Power,” she said, then knelt down so she could see Samuel’s expression. “Samuel, do you know what is happening in the Highlands?” she questioned. His blank stare indicated that he did not, and so she told him only what she felt was absolutely necessary. “The Highlands are falling. Our land has shifted toward Tabletop, but we don’t know what it means. It’s no matter, though—you’re safe in the House of Power. Stay inside and everything will be fine.”

  It was really happening! Samuel couldn’t stop thinking of Edgar and the grove and how he must find his friend. There were things Edgar didn’t understand, things he couldn’t know without reading the last page of the book of secrets.

  “Now,” said Samuel’s mother, “I have much bread to bake.” As if to confirm what she’d said, a guard entered the kitchen and took the large basket of bread away, leaving an empty one in its place. She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and stood up. “Stay in your room unless I tell you to come out, all right?”

  Samuel nodded and followed the man with the basket out the kitchen door into the courtyard.

  “Excuse me, sir,” he said, after he was far enough away from the kitchen that his mother couldn’t hear.

  The man glanced down at the boy with some irritation.

  “What do you want?”

  “How far down have the Highlands sunk?”

  The man began walking away from Samuel again, but said something over his shoulder.

  “Farther than you can imagine.”

  Thinking quickly, Samuel headed back to the kitchen and begged his mother for two more loaves of bread and some water, which she hesitated to give. He couldn’t understand her uncertainty, for there had never been a shortage of food or drink, and Samuel had always enjoyed whatever he wanted. Though the demands on the kitchen were greater than ever, eventually Samuel’s mother relented, sending him off with the items he had asked for.