Taylor Davis and the Flame of Findul (Taylor Davis, 1) Read online

  “Mike!” I shouted, jogging over the crosswalk. “You won’t believe what we found! While you were out here doing, uh, whatever it is you’re doing, we tracked down the information you wanted. We found the story of Swain’s execution!”

  That got his attention. He scrambled to his feet. “Where?”

  “It’s all right here in this book.” Elena handed him her purchase.

  Mike flipped it open and eagerly scanned the pages. Then his face grew irritated and he closed the book. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Joke’s on me.”

  “There’s no joke,” I replied in confusion.

  “You gave me a book with empty pages.”

  Elena snatched it from his hands. “Let me see that.” She fanned the pages. There was nothing on them. “There must have been a mistake at the printer,” she reasoned. “The guy said this was a new shipment.”

  “Wait! Go back!” I was looking around her shoulder. “I thought I saw something.”

  Elena fingered back several pages. “There!” She found it and held it open.

  The only phrase written in the entire book was “Courtesy of the Gray Admiral.”

  My back went rigid. “Where was this store?” Mike asked in a strangled voice.

  We both turned and pointed, but the Hangman’s Noose was gone. In its place stood an empty storefront.

  Mike spun in a tight circle, every muscle tensed. “Ranofur!” he shouted. The big angel was beside us in an instant. “We’re going to need that ride you arranged. Now!”

  “Too late,” Elena shouted. “Look!”

  Striding from the empty storefront and stopping traffic was the most hideous beast I’d ever seen. Twelve feet tall, obese, and wearing a white undershirt several sizes too small, the creature looked fresh from some mountain troll trailer park. Hair sprouted from the neck of its shirt and hung in limp tangles from an oversized head. Fleshy rolls jiggled at every ground-shaking step, and in its hand it dragged a spiked club.

  “Your weapons!” Ranofur shouted.

  We were way ahead of him. Before the giant crossed the road, Elena had three bolts in its hide. They didn’t even slow it down.

  It roared, raised its club, and slammed it into the center of the traffic island.

  Pedestrians scattered in terrified waves, and Ranofur rushed in with a quick blow of his mace. The troll was more agile than it appeared. With a deft twist, it smashed the concrete on which Ranofur had been standing. They danced in a dangerous circle, dodging and swinging like two boxers in a lethal sparring match. From across the street, Elena continued to pelt the monster with bolts that had little effect on its leathery hide.

  Mike, in an uncharacteristic show of bravado, let loose with half a dozen throwing knives. The monster bawled with pain and fury as its back sprouted into a giant pincushion. It whirled to the attack and Mike, with careful aim, sent his final knife plunging into its eye.

  The creature staggered, squalling with agony, and plucked the blade from its skull. He winged it in Mike’s direction. It flew right at Elena, who batted it down with a Schmiel-gloved hand. Unarmed, Mike fled to a row of Porta Johns at the edge of the park and cowered in their shadow among a clutch of horror-stricken onlookers. Meanwhile, Ranofur took advantage of the moment to land several heavy thuds to the monster’s body.

  The battle raged on as I stood frozen on the sidewalk beside Elena, sword in hand.

  “Aren’t you going to get in there and fight?” she gasped as she loaded and fired in rapid succession.

  Still I hesitated. The creature was enormous. One blow from that club would send me into the next world. Elena, who didn’t have to close with the enemy to utilize her weapon, didn’t seem to share my concerns. “Get in there!” she shouted and sent me sprawling into the street.

  I gulped. The troll looked even bigger from the pavement.

  I stumbled to my feet, knees trembling, hands sweating rivers of perspiration, and hovered just outside the range of that club. Ranofur was a muscled tornado, twisting, dodging, and attacking from the perimeter while the monster spun in a tight circle, expending much less energy. It was a glorious display of physical prowess. I watched at the edge of battle, awaiting my moment.

  When the monster turned its back, I gathered my courage. With a mighty cry, I lunged toward the creature and thrust my blade into its armpit. It answered with a blow so forceful I thought it would cleave my blade in two. The sword sailed into the park where it landed in the branches of a tree, and I was flung back to the sidewalk next to Elena.

  “Nice one, Davis,” she smirked.

  Just then, Ranofur’s mace and the creature’s club collided in a tangle of spikes. They clung together in an immortal match of tug-of-war. Then the beast, with its superior strength, wrenched the weapon from Ranofur’s hands.

  “Fall back!” the angel shouted.

  Elena and I turned tail and ran for the only immediate shelter—Marble Arch. The two angels followed right behind us. We met in a gasping, desperate band on the far side. The earth trembled as the monster pursued with the plodding, assured steps of one who knows its enemies are outmatched.

  “What do we do?” I panted.

  “Don’t let it catch you,” Mike breathed.

  “Right. Thanks.”

  The monster plunged its head around the side of the monument. We scrambled into the first archway. The beast appeared on the other side and swiped at us with a hand the size of a dishwasher. We split up, darting in and out of the arches, mixing, merging, and separating until the monster was dizzy with rage. In a colossal display of impatience, he set a shoulder against the monument and heaved.

  “It’s going over,” Ranofur shouted. We scrambled out of the way just as the magnificent marble structure toppled onto its side.

  “Follow me,” Mike called. “I have an idea.”

  As he ran, Mike ripped a swath of fabric off his embroidered jacket. Then he tossed me the keys. “Start the car.”

  “Mike, we can’t outrun the thing in that squirrel trap of yours.”

  “We’re not going to outrun it,” he snapped. “We’re going to blow it up.”

  I didn’t question him.

  When we reached the car, Mike wrenched open the door to the gas tank and unscrewed the cap. “Elena,” he ordered, “the cigarette lighter.” She ran to fetch it as I started the engine. Mike fed the length of cloth into the tank, pulled it out, and fed the other end in. “Hurry,” he urged.

  The monster, fearing our escape, hastened his steps.

  Mike pressed the hot lighter to the gasoline-soaked cloth, blew on it, and it erupted into flame. “Slam it into gear and get out!” he shouted. “Quickly!”

  We dove for cover as the little blue car, a flaming rag hanging out of its gas tank, rolled toward the monster. I sprawled behind a park bench just as the loudest noise I’ve ever heard erupted twenty yards away.

  Kaboom!

  The blast ripped the bench out of the ground, sent it and me tumbling across the grass, and broke every window on the square. I watched a mushroom cloud of black smoke roil up into the blue London sky as flaming debris landed around me. My coffee mug hit the park bench, intact but trailing a severed, smoking noose. Then, with a thunk that I felt rather than heard, a section of the door landed beside me. I could just make out the scorched and blackened letters tie Myrtle’s Hand-

  The others popped out of their hiding places, battered, but in once piece. “Is everyone okay?” Ranofur asked.

  Elena and I both nodded. Elena picked up my coffee mug and handed it to me. I grinned wryly. “Think I can get a refund?”

  Mike, his costume rumpled and grass-stained, was gazing mournfully down at the smoking car door. Elena put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It died serving us well,” she assured him.

  “Our mission is proving quite a boon for the automobile industry,” I remarked.

  “Look there.” Ranofur gestured toward where the monster lay slumped in a broken heap at the edge of the park.

  �
��Why didn’t it turn into green goo?” I asked.

  “It isn’t dead. Where’s the sword?”

  I pointed up into the tree. Ranofur bolted. As he reached the lowest branches, the monster staggered to its feet, peered blearily about, and began limping toward the street.

  “Hurry!” Mike cried in alarm. “It’s getting away!”

  His shout spurred the troll on to greater speed. T-shirt shredded, skin torn and smoking, it rolled across the park in a lopsided trot, like refuse blown from an incinerator. In a matter of seconds, it reached the Tyburn Tree marker and lifted the stone.

  Ranofur leaped from the tree, sword raised to strike, but the monster was already being sucked into the hole, swirling and stretching to fit. Just as the angel reached him, the troll popped out of sight like water down a bathtub drain.

  It had escaped with plenty to report to its superior.

  Lesson #15

  Chariots Are a Sizzlin’ Ride

  Ranofur bent over, catching his breath and shaking his head in dismay. We hurried to join him. “How bad is it?” Elena asked, alarm brightening her eyes.

  “Bad,” Ranofur stated. “Within hours, Swain will have our location and our mission. Any advantages stealth may have granted are long gone. ”

  Elena and I exchanged worried glances. “Guess it’s a good time for a trip to Heaven,” I said.

  “It will throw them off our trail temporarily,” Ranofur agreed. He pulled himself upright and handed over my sword.

  I took it without much enthusiasm. My beagle-footedness was manifesting itself in new ways. Time and time again I had proven inadequate in battle. I was as bad as Mike. Worse! At least he managed to take out one of the creature’s eyes. I’d done nothing but shave off a little troll armpit hair before I’d gotten myself and my weapon removed from the battlefield.

  People were beginning to crawl out of their hidey-holes. They mingled in the carriageway, discussing the damaged streetscape. “Bet a story about an asteroid cluster breaks on the news tonight,” Elena guessed. “I hope that thing didn’t damage the arch beyond repair.”

  “I’ll throw a little money at it when things blow over,” Mike assured her. “Humans have become quite good at recovering from natural disasters. If they only knew how many weren’t natural at all…”

  “Our ride is due in three minutes,” Ranofur said, consulting a pocket watch. “We’re to meet in the park.”

  He led the way past the crowds, past the fountains. Elena joined him, and he flung a heavy arm around her shoulders in a squeeze of approval. They looked so right together, both tall, well-formed, and beautiful. Both so capable. I trailed behind feeling useless and unimportant, followed by my absurd guardian in his shabby costume. I supposed we were adequately matched, after all.

  My mood picked up considerably when a flaming chariot drawn by two white horses blazed across the sky and landed near the parking lot. A small figure dressed in a World War I flight jacket, helmet, and goggles climbed from the inferno. Raising his goggles to the top of his head, he scowled heavily. “So, what are you waiting for? Climb in already, before the Churkons discover us.”

  “Q!” Mike shouted, running to meet the newcomer and pumping his hand.

  “That’s our ride?” I shouted.

  “Sure is.” Ranofur smiled, guiding us toward the chariot. “Kids, meet one of the best agents I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. Quinset, this is Mike and Elena.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Elena said. I murmured a hello and looked the little driver over carefully. The top of his head reached only to my shoulder.

  “Sure, sure,” Quinset muttered. “Whenever anyone needs a favor, they call Q. Q will do it. He’s our man. Bah!” His round little face creased ferociously, but I saw the sparkle in his eyes and noted how hard he fought back a grin.

  “Q is a noble fighter and the most skillful charioteer in the army,” Mike gushed. “Not to mention, he’s the Timekeeper.”

  “What does a Timekeeper do?” I asked.

  “He keeps time, you dolt,” Quinset snapped, hustling us through the flames and into the chariot. Instead of roasting us alive, the fire sent a pleasant tingle of warmth rushing through my body, like the prickle of blood returning to a limb that’s fallen asleep. It was tight, but we all fit inside.

  “Q makes sure Heaven’s plan runs according to schedule,” Ranofur explained with a wink. “We wouldn’t want to fall behind, you know.”

  “Like the Renewal of All Things Davy mentioned?” Elena asked.

  “Among other things,” Q stated irritably. “That’s top secret information. Locked up and hidden where no one will ever find it.” He took the reins. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get out of here before we’re pecked into green goo.”

  “Hold on, kids,” Ranofur warned us.

  With a rush of wind and the tinkling of golden bells, the horses leaped into the air. Earth fell away and the blue of the sky turned to purple and then black. The air grew thin and cold, but we didn’t seem to be affected by it at all.

  “This is awesome!” I hollered.

  More stars than I’d never seen before glittered around us, billions of them, thicker than dust in a sunbeam the week Mom spring-cleaned. Planets loomed up and fell away, and we were enveloped in silence as deep and comforting as sleep.

  “Won’t the Swaugs smell us?” Elena asked.

  “Certainly they will. But they won’t follow where we’re going,” Ranofur assured us.

  The horses passed through a wavering curtain of mist, and suddenly we were pulling up inside a giant arch of gray marble. We alighted in a field several acres in area and were hustled out of the chariot by Q. “Things to do,” he grumbled. “But no one ever thinks about that. Good old Q. Always there when we need him. And never a word of thanks.”

  Elena bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Q. We appreciate your help.”

  Q’s face turned bright red and he tucked his chin into his scarf to hide his pleasure. “Out of my way,” he groused and led the team of horses to an immense stable and paddock at one end of the field.

  I took closer notice of our surroundings. The field was as green and verdant as a golf course. Along with the stable, there were several low buildings that could have been barracks, a handful of outbuildings, and a large, fancy complex that would have passed for an ultramodern corporate office. The landscaping was immaculate, and the sky overhead glowed with streaks of color, like the aurora borealis but in the pastel shades of sunrise. There was no sun. I couldn’t tell where the colors originated, but they lit the air with a strong, pure light.

  “Hey, aren’t there supposed to be pearly gates and streets of gold?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Sure,” Ranofur laughed. “They’re over on the residents’ side, but no living human is allowed inside. We brought you in through the back door.”

  “Staff only,” Mike agreed. “On this mission, you’re considered staff. Let’s get off the parade grounds.”

  Mike and Ranofur started directly for the office building. A sign outside the door read Military Headquarters. We passed into a beautiful lobby with glass walls and a sparkling fountain that caught the rays of color. A secretary with a dark complexion and a nametag that identified him as Agent Morales, Fourth Class smiled a welcome. “Can I help you?”

  “We’re here to meet with Nigel,” Mike informed him.

  Agent Morales entered the information into his computer and verified our appointment. “He’s expecting you. Go on up.”

  We took the stairs that spiraled around the lobby. Three flights up, I peered over the rail and fought the temptation to spit into the fountain far below. “Don’t even think about it,” Elena warned and handed me a penny. I tossed it, watching the coin flip over and over as it arced through space and slipped into the water with a soft plunk.

  Nigel answered our knock. I recognized him right away. In person, he was even more slender than he had appeared on the video, like a p
encil in a box of sidewalk chalk, but his bass voice and crisp English accent sounded just the same. He adjusted his glasses and rumbled, “Ranofur, Amikim.”

  “Hey, boss,” Mike waved.

  Nigel turned to me and Elena with a perfunctory smile. “It is an honor to meet you children at last,” he said, grasping our hands one at a time. “We have long awaited your coming.”

  “Thank you, sir,” we both replied. Nigel’s name tag indicated a second class rank. Meeting him felt sort of like meeting the president.

  He escorted us into a plush office with an oversized window that looked out over a gorgeous landscape. I was drawn to it immediately. A few low rooftops were visible. Beyond, the ground rolled away to a valley painted every shade of green, yellow, and blue. A wide, lazy river flashed in the light, reflecting back colors as bright as a string of jewels. Farther still, a series of high, rugged hills rose up and fell away in folds as far as I could see.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Nigel asked, standing beside me. “It is the template for your Smoky Mountains. I never grow tired of looking at it.”

  I had never considered that Earth might be a Xerox copy.

  Nigel moved behind his desk and sat down. “Would any of you like coffee or tea?”

  We declined. All of us except Mike. “Have any root beer?” he asked.

  Nigel pressed a button on his desk. “Jin, can you bring us some A&W? Thank you.”

  My stomach chose that moment to make itself heard.

  One corner of Nigel’s lip pulled upwards, and he pushed the button again. “Bring some sandwiches, too. And dill pickles,” he added with a wink at Elena.

  It was a little disconcerting how well these guys always seemed to know us.

  Nigel crossed his legs and addressed Ranofur. “I was very pleased to hear you were handling security for this case.” Ranofur nodded, and Nigel turned to Mike, surveying his attire more closely. “And Mike, I do admire the way you keep life interesting. Your tastes are rather more…eclectic than my other agents.”