Chapter 4
Beyond the Flying Carpet
"This is the Blackest Tower," Keeah pontificated as they dashed inside.
"I kinda guessed," Neal replied, dashing after her.
Eric said nothing. Julie and Goffrey wisely followed his example.
They came to a set of stairs, which were somewhat hard to see because, like the sleek tower wall they pressed up against, they were black. In fact, no-one would have seen them as they wound their way into darkness had Eric not been wearing his glasses.
"Hey, is that a staircase?" he called suddenly.
"Where?"
"Over there!"
Keeah gained a look of epiphany from some unknown storeroom of looks. "Of course! The Nero Staircase. There's an ancient prophecy about it!" And without asking permission or breaking stride, she began to recite.
"Black as pitch, as dark as night,
Can only be seen with the sharp'ners of sight.
Mount them, chosen two and three.
You will find their end in the double, you see."
"That makes no sense, but let's go, the Ninns are still following us," pragmatic Neal reminded them, irritably rubbing his nose ring.
The quintet dashed up the stairs.
A few minutes later, they weren't dashing.
"How far do these stairs go?" Eric demanded.
"Well, they end eventually, according to the prophecy. But you saw how tall the tower is. It can be guessed they go all the way to the top." Natural laws didn't seem to apply to Keeah, who was hardly even panting.
From far below them came the sounds of Ninns finding the stairs. These were mainly loud 'thump's. Ninns were not the geniuses of Sparr's militia.
"Weird riddle-prophecy-thing, though," Neal commented absently. "Sharpened eyes, double Cs, not a word about food."
"Actually, it's pretty obvious if you think about it," Julie disagreed. " 'Sharp'ners of sight' must be glasses, there are five of us, so we're the 'chosen two and three,' and, um… okay, so it doesn't make that much sense. But what does? Really, we're in Droon."
"Pretty lame poetry, too," Keeah mumbled very, very softly.
They climbed some more. At long, long last, the stairs ended. A dark, threatening door stood in their path. It was spiky. It was black. A pair of stick figures were etched into its surface; one appeared to be wearing a skirt. Keeah reached out to pull it open.
"Wait!" Called Julie, who was in the back of the group, "I think I've figured out the prophecy! It's not a double you see! It's a…"
The door swung open. There, across a long, dark room, was a black toilet.
"WC."
"What?"
"WC. Water closet. Bathroom."
Eric groaned. Neal moaned. Keeah sigh and sagged against the plaid shirt of Eric, who was standing so conveniently next to her. Goffrey whimpered. Julie wrinkled her nose and stepped in.
The WC was perhaps twenty feet long, ten wide, and very black. There was a single immense toilet and an incongruously white bathtub. There were no windows, the only illumination provided by a sconce of torches set into the wall opposite the tub (they hadn't burnt out in the past eight years due to the genius innovation of LED flames). The only door other then the one they had entered through was a square trap door in the ceiling.
"Trust the evil Sparr to have a black bathroom."
Keeah, face grim in the flicker of torchlight, looked around. "I don't know how we're going to get out of this one."
Fortunately, Julie peered at the bathtub. "Why does the tub have green spirals in the corners?"
Keeah grew suddenly excited. "Do you see a label on it? One that reads, 'Pasha original'?"
"But I thought Pasha only made carpets," Eric said, puzzled.
"Long story. To sum up, he dabbled in some other pieces before the carpet was settled on. Come on, get in." Keeah stepped into the tub.
Dubiously, the other followed. "Now, Julie," continued the Queen of Droon, "you have to accidentally discover how to make it go."
Julie had settled into the cramped tub and was attempting to touch up her makeup. "What? Oh. So, does this tub fly?"
Nothing happened.
From under Keeah's foot, faint strains of heavy rock could be heard. Neal had turned his iPod on again.
The tub began to rise.
Julie's eyes flashed. She snatched Neal's iPod, flipped it to a rap song, and turned the volume all the way up. The tub rose further. Encouraged, Julie began to sing along.
The tub hovered to the beat. It twirled up to the trap door, which Keeah pushed open. And her mother had said rappers were good for nothing!
They soared over Pludd in the bath, searching for the tower Eric, Julie, and Neal had scryed. It was only a matter of time before the groggles were saddled, but until then, they had a goal.
As the rap song wound down, Julie found a beat without lyrics, put it in a loop, and started to improvise. This was even worse then standard rap, and Eric found himself leaning over the edge of the bathtub, zoning.
There was a burning flash of light behind his eyes. Julie's loud, arrhythmic song ("We're going to Droon, we're goin' real soon…") faded into blessed oblivion.
He was falling. He fell, and he fell, and he fell. He tried to scream, but his jaw wouldn't open.
He landed on something soft, or possibly just stopped falling. In front of him, darkness gathered into a menacing figure. Tall, imposing, with a sinister expression, a long, black cloak, and purple fish fins behind his ears, it was their arch-nemesis, Lord Sparr. Some day, they might even find out what he's lord of.
Sparr laughed evilly. "At last. My moment of triumph is at hand – and this time, no pesky Upper World children can stop me!" The evil laugh continued. Then, gesturing extravagantly, Sparr began to chant a spell.
Eric couldn't quite make out the words, but it sounded like the typical three-syllable string. He was sure it was evil and demonic. He struggled to stand before it was too late.
Then…
Out of thin air…
Sparr pulled…
A microphone!
And not just any microphone. A dark, spiky, hideous microphone. He lifted it, pressed a button, and then…
Sparr sang karaoke.
Eric died.