Chapter Seventeen
Beyond the Sphinx
Ethan spent much of the ensuing weekend catching up on the work he'd missed, but he found time to tell Tim, Anne and Marcus the full story of his narrow escape in the woods. They sat up late Sunday evening in the common room, eagerly discussing and dissecting the entire affair.
"What it means is that Tiverton's trying to get the talisman for Hafgan, like we thought," Ethan said as he stared into the dying embers of the fire. "And we know that Hafgan's working for Voldemort..."
"Don't say the name!" Marcus grumbled and looked around as if he thought Ethan might conjure up the real Voldemort out of thin air.
"...but now we know that Hafgan's right here in the forest. So it's more important than ever that we stop Tiverton," Ethan continued, oblivious to Marcus' protest.
"You don't suppose that...that Hafgan will try again to...well, to kill you?" Tim asked uncertainly.
"I expect he will," Ethan said. "For all I know, the stars may say he'll kill me in the end. Some of the Jo-Ge-Oh seem to think so. But I'm not going to just sit around waiting for him to do it. The important thing is that life won't be worth living if Voldemort gets the thing that the talisman controls."
"Will you please stop saying the name?" Marcus snapped.
Anne had stayed uncharacteristically silent but finally added a word that was meant to be encouraging.
"Raven Man let on that you have a role to play, Ethan, and Flyte said that was interesting, right?"
"Yeah, he did," Ethan confirmed.
"Well, I doubt they'd say those things if they thought Hafgan would bump you off a few days or weeks later. And besides, Kaaterskill is probably one of the safest places in our world, and Flyte's a great wizard. I'll bet as long as Flyte's here even You-Know-Who wouldn't dare to touch you."
It was after midnight when they finally went to bed, tired and hoarse. Ethan awoke several times, vaguely aware that his old dreams of danger in the forest had merged with his more recent nightmares about what he'd seen in the Vases.
As the last few weeks of class passed, Ethan had to admit that there was no sign that Tiverton had managed to outwit the Sphinx and capture the talisman.
Then in mid-June, final exams arrived along with a wave of uncommonly hot, humid weather on the normally cool mountain top.
At the last school assembly before exams, Cyrus Flyte urged them all to "finish up strong!"
"Says that every year," Kenny Sturtevant whispered to Ethan across the Bradbury table. "And you know, somehow we always do."
Ethan and his classmates took written exams in all their subjects in a large classroom on the second floor. The windows seemed to have been painted shut, so the students struggled through the sweltering heat to complete the tests. All the exam parchments had been treated with an Anti-Plagiarism spell, as had the quills.
There were practical exams in every core subject but History of Magic. In Charms, each student had to make a knife and fork dance a waltz across Professor O'Loughlin's desk.
The Herbology and Potions practicals were combined, as each student made a potion using the plants they had raised in Crockett's class. Those whose plants were weak or sickly naturally started from a disadvantage. Despite all distractions, Ethan had managed to bring his Mimulus Cupriphilus up to a fine, healthy state with numerous yellow blossoms. Renfro provided the instructions for the Virtus Virtutis potion, which used both the blossoms and stems of Mimulus.
"If by some strange chance you succeed, Lloyd, you will have a potion that will give you the courage to face any fear you can name," Renfro told him as he gave him the list of ingredients. "And if your finished product passes muster, you may keep one vial of the potion for your own use."
After two hours of careful work, Ethan stoppered a vial of the shimmering, honey-colored liquid in his cauldron and turned it over to Crockett and Renfro for inspection. He had developed a liking for the strange little plant. Perhaps that had inspired his work on the potion, or perhaps it was the promise that he might gain a vial of liquid courage.
The professors called the students up one at a time after the exam and evaluated their potions. Half the class had received their grades and left the room before Ethan heard his name called. Renfro's face betrayed no sign of his judgment. Crockett wore his usual look of gruff disdain, but Ethan had come to know this did not necessarily relate to his opinion of one's work.
"Well, well, Mr. Lloyd, it appears I may have underestimated you," Renfro told him. "Either that or you've an extraordinarily lucky day. While I think you may have added a bit more borage leaf than was necessary, you're potion is more than acceptable."
The potions teacher handed the vial back to Ethan, who was speechless for a moment.
"Thank you, sir," he finally stammered.
"Don't let it go to your head," Crockett muttered. "And take care you use that potion. It's for serious use and it keeps for years. Don't waste it on your next exam...and don't use it all at once. A teaspoon will do nicely. Lasts about a day."
"Yes, sir. Thanks," Ethan said.
"Well, go on Lloyd, there are others waiting," Crockett said. "Go clean up! Who's next, Paris?"
Ethan found it a bit wrenching to have to make the remainder of the potion vanish. But once he'd tidied his area up quite well, he fairly skipped out of the potions classroom. He'd carefully wrapped the vial of Virtus Virtutis. Back in the dorm, he stowed it in the bottom of his trunk, next to the amulet.
As the first-years compared notes that evening at dinner, Ethan found he was one a very few who'd done well enough to keep their potions. Anne had failed spectacularly to create a cleansing potion from singing soapwort.
"He told me I'd better not try washing my mouth out with it," she said gloomily. "Then he vanished it."
"Well, it's a good thing my practical came out well," Ethan told the others. "I really blew the written."
"After I coached you for three nights running?" Tim said with a look of mock exasperation.
"Well that helped, but only so much," Ethan confided. "Once I was in the exam room, with Renfro looking over everyone's shoulders, I kind of panicked."
The very last exam for the first-years was History of Magic. Ethan was sure he'd aced it. He'd studied just the right notes for the multiple choice section. Then he'd chosen two essay topics from a list of four: "Discuss the motivations behind wizard immigration to western North America in the 17th century" and "The Quodpot betting scandal of 1923 had profound effects on magical sports and wizarding politics. Explain and relate."
When he turned in his parchment and headed out of the classroom, Ethan could see Tim was still writing. Anne looked as though she was desperately hoping for inspiration, resting her head on one hand and staring at the ceiling.
Ethan headed back to Bradbury Tower, but he had barely turned into the next corridor when he heard an odd noise in a nearby classroom. Was it someone sobbing? Ethan walked warily up to the partially open door. The room seemed empty, but he heard the noise again and decided to listen from behind the door.
Someone spoke.
"No, please don't do that...I can do it soon...Does it have to be now? All right, all right, I will!"
A moment later, Roscoe Skryme hurried out of the classroom and down the hall without noticing Ethan. He looked troubled.
Ethan ducked his head into the classroom, but saw no one. Who had Skryme been talking to? There was an open door at the other end of the room. Tiverton probably slipped out that way! Ethan thought to himself.
When he got back to the common room, Ethan was bursting to tell someone what he'd overheard. His classmates were not back from the exam yet. But Kenny Sturtevant was relaxing in an armchair just outside the proctor's lounge.
"Hullo, Ethan! Done at last?" the proctor asked him. "Did you finish up strong?"
"Hi, Kenny! Actually, yeah, I think I did. But there's something I need to talk to you about. Um, alone?"
"Sure," Kenny replied, looking surprised. "Come on into the lounge."
They sat down and Ethan told Kenny what he'd overheard and what he thought it meant.
Kenny furrowed his brow.
"You really have a way of finding trouble, don't you, Ethan?" he said. "Can I ask whether you've ever found any concrete reason to suspect Tiverton wants to steal whatever the Sphinx is guarding?"
Ethan thought for a moment. He realized that he'd never fully confided in Kenny about his visits to the Vases of Artephius. But he decided there was no way to explain his fears about Tiverton without telling the tale. He took a deep breath and launched into the story.
"So I've seen--and felt--what they were trying to release from Table Mountain," he said. "It would make dementors and Death Eaters seem like minor distractions. And I know Hafgan's lurking out in Spook Woods, using the re'em blood to get stronger. He knows what's here and he wants it. But he needs an insider to do the job. I've heard Tiverton threaten Skryme twice now. I'm sure it was Tiverton who tried to crush Anne and me with that statue. Oh, and Tiverton just happened to be doing research in Albania at the same time they think Voldemort was hiding there. You told us that yourself."
"Yeah, I remember," Kenny said. "But I heard a rumor since then that the Hogwarts teacher he was with later tried to kill Harry Potter for You-Know...I mean V-v-voldemort."
Kenny paused. He sighed, cleared his throat and continued. "All year Flyte and Bancroft have been telling us not to be afraid to say that name! Bancroft told me that if anyone needs to be able to say it, it's me. And I still can't get through it without sounding like some kind of idiot! But it doesn't bother you."
At this, Kenny's eyes watered up. He quickly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped them.
"I guess I just don't know any better," Ethan said, taken aback.
"No, that's good!" Kenny said, blowing his nose. "Don't mind me. I guess it's just that it's that time of year. It was fourteen years ago today."
"What was fourteen years ago?" Ethan asked, confused and completely off his original subject. "And why does Bancroft especially want you to say Voldemort's name?"
"Fourteen years since I lost my family," Kenny answered. "Every year the anniversary comes just as school ends. Every year I go back to my aunt and uncle for the summer."
"What happened to your family, Kenny?" Ethan asked, not sure that he really wanted to hear the answer.
"I don't know myself. I was only two," Kenny said quietly. "V-v-voldemort's people killed them all: my father, mother, two brothers and sister. If I'd been home at the time, I would have been killed too. But I was with a baby sitter that day and they hadn't come to get me when it happened."
Ethan didn't know what to say. All he could do was speak the one word that filled his mind: "Why?"
"Why? They killed my dad because he was an Auror, like your parents. I don't know why they killed the rest. Didn't want witnesses, maybe? Or to intimidate those who stood up to them?" Kenny spoke slowly, as if he'd thought fruitlessly about this question many times. "Or maybe they just liked killing."
"I barely remember any of them," he continued sadly. "I do have some photos. Here, have a look. There's Mom and Dad. And this is my sister Maggie, she was five. Next to her is Robbie, he was eight. And the last there is Brian. He was eleven. He would have started Kaaterskill that fall."
Ethan looked at the pictures of the Sturtevant family, smiling and full of life, but all the time a voice in his head kept saying "Dead! All dead!" As he looked over at Kenny, he saw a teary-eyed, subdued boy, not the wise proctor or strong, swift Chaser he'd come to know. And for the first time, Ethan understood the desperation his own parents must have felt when they decided to flee the magic world. When they brought me into the world, they didn't want me to end up an orphan, he said to himself. They didn't want me to go through what Kenny's gone through.
"Even though I only know them as pictures, I miss them every day," Kenny said in a near whisper. "And some day, I will make someone pay for what happened to them. But for now, I'll try and help you any way I can, 'cause I know that whoever is after that talisman--even if it is a teacher--is on Voldemort's side. There, I said it!"
"Well, we might need your help soon," Ethan said, taking the opportunity to return to his original concern. "But what do you think we should do?"
"You need to go to Flyte and tell him exactly what you've told me," Kenny told him. "Tell him everything. Chances are he knows most of it already, but just go ahead anyway. He may have reason to trust Tiverton, but I don't think he'll dismiss you without hearing you out."
"OK, as soon as Tim and Anne get back, we'll go to see Flyte," Ethan agreed.
"I'd go with you myself," Kenny told him. "But I'll be in the end-of-term proctors' meeting. Let me know how it goes!"
With that, they returned to the common room. Ethan spotted Anne and Tim across the room. He headed over and found them discussing the exam.
"I'm sure I didn't get all the reasons why the Southern Sorcerers' Society was willing to give up enslaving house elves," Tim said, still looking anxious. "And I didn't even need to know about the 52 unsuccessful solo attempts to cross the Atlantic by broom."
"Will you stop?" Anne asked. "I've already sat through the exam once. I really don't want to replay it! Oh, hi, Ethan!"
"Hi!" Ethan said, adding in a conspiratorial whisper, "If you're done talking about the exam, I'll tell you what I heard on the way back."
The others listened eagerly to Ethan's report.
After he'd finished, Anne asked, "Well, what do you want to do about it, Ethan?"
Before Ethan could answer, Tim broke in.
"If Kenny thinks we should tell Flyte, let's do it!"
"Well?" Anne asked, looking at Ethan. "You're not so sure?"
"Well, what if he doesn't believe us?" Ethan wondered. "We'll just have to give up!"
"But surely he will believe us!" Anne said hopefully.
"Yeah, and besides, Flyte's responsible for everything that goes on around here," Tim added. "He ought to be told."
Ethan nodded.
"Well, you're the only one who knows where Flyte's office is," Anne reminded Ethan. "So lead the way!"
Off they went, through the portrait hole, back to the second floor corridor near the library. The halls were nearly empty; most students were either lounging around their dorms or out on the grounds.
When they reached the statue of the rakish wizard, Ethan shouted "Spring Surprise!" and waited. But no door appeared.
"Maybe he changed the password," Anne suggested.
"Yeah," Ethan said, not sure what to do next.
Just then Professor Bancroft turned into the corridor, humming to himself. When he saw the three of them, he arched an eyebrow and asked, "What are you doing inside? Can I help you with something?"
"We need to see Professor Flyte," Ethan burst out. "It's important..."
"If you have a complaint about an exam, or need some advice about arrangements for your return home, I'm sure I can assist," Bancroft said. "Besides, the headmaster is not here at present."
"Not here?" Ethan, Anne and Tim all asked simultaneously.
"No, he was called to an urgent meeting with the Secretary of Magic in the city," Bancroft explained. "You students may not be aware of it, but Professor Flyte has many responsibilities outside school. He's one of the most important wizards in the country, after all."
Ethan decided to throw caution to the wind.
"It's about the talisman my parents brought back from Table Mountain. We think Tiv--um, we think someone's trying to steal it."
Bancroft's demeanor changed abruptly.
"I've no idea how you learned about the Talisman," he said, sounding startled. "But I assure you that it's quite secure. Furthermore, it's none of your concern as students. Not even for you, Mr. Lloyd."
"But we're certain that it's in danger of being stolen soon," Anne asserted.
"It's none of your business, Miss Findlay," Bancroft repeated testily. "The headmaster has made all necessary arrangements for its protection. You needn't worry about it. Now, I suggest that you three go outside and enjoy the rest of this fine mountain day!"
They indeed did head out onto the broad portico, which was fairly teeming with students delighted to be freed from their studies until fall.
Ethan spotted three chairs near one end of the portico and flopped into the middle one. Tim and Anne took the chairs on either side. Ethan looked out across the valley. He was sure he could see a hundred miles in the clear summer light. But his mind was still inside Kaaterskill, focused on the door that led to the Sphinx.
"I still don't see why he needs Skryme's help," Anne whispered. "Is Skryme some sort of riddle expert?"
"I don't think it's the Sphinx Tiverton wants help with anymore," Ethan said as Tim turned his chair towards the others so he could listen. "Skryme probably contributed some sort of enchantment to help guard the talisman. Maybe that's the last one Tiverton needs to crack."
"But you think Skryme just told Tiverton what he needs to know?" Tim asked, idly flipping the pages of his History of Magic notebook.
"It sure sounded like it," Ethan said. "I think he's going tonight. And with Flyte out of the way, the timing will be perfect!"
"I'll just bet Tiverton sent Flyte that owl," Anne said.
As soon as the words had left Anne's lips, Ethan's eyes widened in shock, for Terence Tiverton had emerged from a nearby doorway to eye them suspiciously.
Ethan quickly pulled a book from his pack and joined Tim in pretending to study. Anne took the hint and grabbed her potions text just as Tiverton swooped down on them.
"A bit late for last minute cramming, aren't you?" Tiverton asked tartly. "Shouldn't you be dozing in the sun or playing by the pond?"
"Ah, we were...I mean...just getting ready for next term," Tim said lamely.
"Admirable that three first-year Bradburys such as you are so devoted to learning," Tiverton responded smoothly. He added in a lower voice, "The way you're acting, people will think you're plotting something. I'd be a bit more careful if I were you. And Mr. Lloyd, any more roaming in the halls after curfew and I will see to it that you are sent back to Wisconsin for good! Good day to you!"
He swept off down the portico, leaving Ethan, Anne and Tim shaking and pale.
"Let's go for a walk," Tim suggested and they headed towards the opposite end of the portico, down the stairs and out onto the grounds. There were knots of students lounging about on the lake shore and off towards the quidditch pitch, but no one was within earshot.
"Well that settles it, then," Ethan said, taking a deep breath. "If he's going in tonight, that means I'll have to go after him."
"You aren't serious!" Tim said. "You heard Bancroft and Tiverton. They're both looking for an excuse to kick you out already."
"Back in the fall, I would have worried about that," Ethan replied. "Back then I didn't know anything about Hafgan or the monster he wants to unleash. But what difference does school make when Voldemort and Hafgan are back? They're not going to spare me just 'cause I got a good grade in Potions! They killed Kenny's family just for the sake of killing. My parents went into hiding to help keep the talisman hidden. If I just let Tiverton waltz in and steal it, their sacrifice will go to waste! If some teacher catches me before I get to the talisman, I'll go back to Madison and when Hafgan comes to get us, we'll put up a good fight. And if the Sphinx or Tiverton get me first, at least I'll know I was trying to do the right thing!"
Anne and Tim looked at each other. Ethan wondered whether they thought him mad.
"He means it all right, Tim," Anne said. "And you're right, Ethan."
"I'll take the amulet," Ethan said. "That'll give me a bit of an edge at the start."
"Well, we know that works on at least three people at once," Anne noted.
"Three people?" Ethan asked. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't really think we're letting you go in there alone," Tim said.
"Besides you'll need help getting past all the obstacles they've put in your way," Anne added.
"But if we get caught, you'll get kicked out too!" Ethan protested.
"Yeah, but like Anne said, you're right, Ethan!" Tim told him. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."
"OK, that's decided, then," Anne declared. "Now, all we have to do is figure out how to get out of the common room."
"And past the Sphinx," Tim added anxiously.
"I reckon we'll just have to figure that out if we get that far," Ethan said. "I think we need to tell Marcus and Kenny what we're doing. And I think we need one more person with us. Whether or not we get in, I want to get a message back here."
"Do you really think we can get the amulet around a fourth person?" Tim asked.
"Well, I have no idea how we got it around three of us--or even two, for that matter," Ethan said. "So I think it will work, if the person's not too big."
"That eliminates Kenny and Marcus, then," Anne surmised.
"No, but the person I have in mind is much smaller than them."
"There aren't any Jo-Ge-Oh around, are there?" Tim asked.
"No, of course not! I mean Peter."
Tim's face darkened.
"You don't really mean to take him along with us again?"
"Yeah, I do," Ethan declared. "He's learned his lesson, I'm sure of it."
"But Ethan," Anne objected. "Even if we're sure Peter won't turn us in, are you sure he's not going to turn around and run at the first sign of trouble."
"Well, I'm not especially brave, either," Ethan replied. "I just know that I need to do this. The dowsing rod put Peter in Bradbury, too. If he agrees to help, I trust him to see it through."
Back at Bradbury Tower before dinner, Tim sought out Marcus, Anne talked to Kenny and Ethan pulled Peter aside.
When he'd explained to Peter what needed to be done, Ethan was encouraged by Peter's response.
"OK, Ethan, I'll go along," Peter said immediately. "If you really needed me to, I'd go further."
"Thanks, Peter. But what I really need is someone reliable to bring news--whatever it may be--back to Marcus and Kenny. We'll leave as soon as the common room empties out tonight."
Anne and Tim joined Ethan a few minutes later with their reports.
"Kenny'll stay up with us and help make sure everyone's gone to bed," said Anne. "Then he'll keep watch with Marcus and wait for us--or at least for Peter's report."
"When I told Marcus what was up, he wanted to go with us," Tim related. "But he's OK with staying if that's what we need."
"Where was he after the exam?" Anne asked.
"He wouldn't say exactly, but he and Kyle were buying something off a couple of 6th years. My guess is fireworks or something else on the prohibited list," Tim explained. "I hope we get back in time to find out!"
Dinner proved a tense affair. Ethan wasn't really hungry, though Kenny and Tim urged him to eat.
"You're going to need your strength," Tim said, as he downed a mince tart in two bites.
After dinner, Ethan went up to the dorm and retrieved the amulet from his trunk. As he stuffed it in his pocket, his eye caught the well-wrapped bottle of Virtus Virtutis. On the spur of the moment, he pocketed that as well.
With no need to study, the Bradbury students proved a gregarious group that night. Many stayed up late playing chess and Exploding Snap, speculating about the Closing Feast, and making summer plans.
By the time Kenny chased the last few merrymakers upstairs, it was nearly eleven-thirty. But at last, just the six conspirators remained, illuminated only by the dying firelight. They hadn't spoken much over the course of the evening, though each had contemplated what lay ahead.
For his part, Ethan found himself surprised that the others had not only taken him seriously but were now looking to him for direction. He'd played over their last nighttime misadventure in his mind. He realized how careless he'd been and how easily he'd been distracted. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't repeat those mistakes. Now he knew he was as ready as he could be.
"OK, let's go," he said. As if on cue, Tim and Anne jumped up, followed by Peter, who bore little resemblance to his fearful former self.
As they gathered near the door, Ethan took out the amulet. This was the first test, he thought. Would the chain really fit around all four of them?
He took one end of the chain, and then passed the other end to Tim, who passed it to Anne. As Anne turned to give it to Peter, there was a noise at the top of stairs to the boys' dorms. All eyes turned and saw a tall figure come into view. It was Cam Trumbull, the 7th year proctor, yawning as he slowly descended the stairs.
"Quick, Peter, take the chain!" Anne whispered. Peter's short arms barely reached the end of the chain. But he took hold and pulled it over his head.
"Let it down now!" Ethan hissed.
As they did, they could tell from the expression on Marcus' face that they'd disappeared from sight, just in time.
Cam spoke.
"Oh, hi, Sturtevant! What's up? I could have sworn I heard a bunch of people still down here."
"It's just Gibson, Cam. I'm sending him to bed now."
"Good then!" Cam replied with another big yawn. "I'll say goodnight again!"
"'Night, Cam," Kenny said. Cam's muffled footsteps faded away up the stairs.
"OK, Marcus, we're ready," the now invisible Ethan whispered.
Marcus opened the portrait hole and the four of them awkwardly crossed into the hall.
"Good luck!" Marcus and Kenny called after them.
The door shut and off they went. The Dutchman was sound asleep. Goody Cloyse passed over them as they descended the Disconcerting Stair, but she seemed not to notice them.
It was a much smoother trip than the last, aside from the fact that it was harder for the four of them to walk with the amulet's chain tying them together.
Eventually they passed the sinister wizard's statue and stood before the door to the Sphinx, still marked with the rune and the sentence that had caught Ethan's eye the last time.
"Ready for a riddle?" he asked, attempting a smile.
"Ethan," Tim said. "Have you considered that with the amulet we may be able to get by the Sphinx without answering?"
"We can try," Ethan replied. "Maybe it'll work."
Ethan looked at the others. All wore serious looks, almost solemn. No one looked scared.
Ethan took out his wand, slipped the chain over his head for just a moment. Alohomora! He said firmly. The latch clicked. He quickly put the chain back on and opened the door.
They stepped in as quietly as possible. The Sphinx was sitting as still as a statue. Ethan wondered if it was asleep. But as the door closed, he saw the creature's bright eyes look straight at them. Its large tail twitched excitedly.
Ethan gestured to the others to head along the wall on the left side towards the door. As they did so, the Sphinx let out a low, menacing growl.
"You're not playing fair!" the Sphinx said. "Think I can't see you, you do! Wrong-o!"
The Sphinx sharpened its claws on the floor as it spoke.
Ethan shrugged and took off the amulet. The others slipped out from under the chain.
"Just an oversight, Mr. Sphinx, sir," he said, aware that his voice was squeaking, a bit like Peter's. "No harm intended."
"I remember you, yes," the Sphinx replied. "Weren't in a riddling mood the first time you were here."
"Well, sir, we'd like to try your riddle, if it's no trouble," Ethan said, trying to sound polite.
"Trouble? Certainly not," the Sphinx answered. "Riddling always works up an appetite, I've found. Are you ready, then?"
"Yes, sir."
The Sphinx sat up on its haunches and recited.
To begin find a hound that
is frequently black,
Or a place where experiments
are kept well on track.
Add the end of the highway,
the start of each year.
Then the start of a roadway,
the end of your fear.
When you are not out,
chances are that you're here,
To the end of begin
You should probably steer.
Last add that which is in
both north and south.
Join all these together
and speak with your mouth,
and if you speak truly,
I shall not attack.
But if you guess wrong then
it's time for my snack.
Ethan stared at the Sphinx, and then turned to look at the others.
"Did you catch all of that?" he asked them. They shook their heads.
Ethan turned back to the Sphinx and asked "Could you repeat that, please?"
The Sphinx nodded ever so slightly and repeated the rhyme. The four students huddled to confer.
"The Grim's a black dog," Anne suggested.
"But what's that got to do with experiments?" Tim objected.
"What are ex-perrymints, anyway?" Anne asked.
Ethan and Tim rolled their eyes.
"Something muggle scientists do," Ethan explained.
Anne and Peter looked bewildered. But Ethan had just realized he knew the answer.
"Lab!" he said excitedly, then added to the Sphinx, "that's not our answer--yet! What was the next bit?"
The sphinx repeated the next stanza.
"So it's at the end of a road and the start of the year?" Ethan thought out loud. "I don't get it."
"'Y'!" Peter piped up.
"Why?" Ethan responded. "Because it's in the riddle, that's why!"
"No, the letter 'Y', Ethan!" Peter persisted. "The last letter of 'roadway' and the first of the word 'year'!"
"So that's Lab-y?" Anne asked doubtfully.
But Tim was on to the next clue.
"And the first letter of roadway is 'r', just like the last letter of 'fear'!" he said.
"And if you're not out, you're..." Anne began.
"Safe!" Ethan exclaimed.
"Nah, keep it simple, Ethan," Tim demurred. "In! It's at the end of 'begin', too!"
"OK, I think I've got the idea at last," Ethan said. "And 'th' is in both 'north' and 'south', which gives us..."
"Lab-y-r-in-th," Tim concluded. "The answer's 'labyrinth', Ethan!"
"Everyone sure of that?" Ethan asked. The others nodded in agreement.
He turned once again to the Sphinx and cleared his throat.
"The answer to the riddle is labyrinth, sir!" he said firmly.
The Sphinx gave Ethan another long stare, its demeanor as inscrutable as ever.
"You are correct," it finally said. "You are free to pass through the door yonder. And if you survive what lies beyond, you are free to return whence you came."
"Well done, Ethan!" Anne exclaimed with a sigh of relief. "Let's go on then!"
"OK, then. Peter, take the amulet. We won't need it anymore."
Ethan gathered the amulet and its chain into his right hand and put it into Peter's hand.
"Use it to get back to Bradbury Tower," Ethan told him. "Tell Kenny and Marcus we've gone in; and send an owl to Flyte. We probably don't have much of a chance by ourselves."
Peter looked at them solemnly.
"Don't worry, I'll do it," he said. "But you three...just be careful."
Peter slipped the amulet over his head and vanished. The door to the hall opened. When it shut again a moment later, the others knew Peter had gone.
"Now, let's go!" Ethan said, leading the way past the Sphinx toward the little door at the end of the room. The ceiling was so low that Tim and Anne had to stoop. Ethan was just able to stand up straight.
"Here goes," Ethan said as he turned the handle and opened the door.
They came out into a dark hallway, lit by a single torch on the wall to their right. The walls were made of a sort of dark, smooth stone. The ceilings, though low, were high enough so that Anne and Tim could straighten up again.
They lit their wand tips and looked around.
"Looks like there's just one way to go from here," Ethan said, pointing ahead where the hall took a sharp left turn.
So they marched off, treading warily along the hall. The passage was completely unadorned. They found that the floors and ceilings were made of the same material as the walls. They were glad of the light their wands emitted, for the flickering light from widely-spaced torches did little to illuminate their path.
Once they'd made the initial left turn, the passage seemed to gradually curve back upon itself. After about fifteen minutes, the passage widened and they found themselves in a sort of a small chamber.
"Nothing here," Ethan said after examining the whole room by wand light.
"Looks like it keeps going," Tim observed, pointing to another left turn ahead.
So they continued. The hall narrowed and began curving to the left. After what seemed like ages, they thought they'd reached a dead end, only to find a hairpin turn that sent them back in the direction from which they'd come, curving to the right.
A few minutes past the hairpin, Tim stopped with a sudden look of comprehension.
"That's it!" he exclaimed.
"What's it?" Ethan asked.
"We're in a labyrinth, Ethan," Tim answered. "That's why we keep turning back on ourselves."
"So that's what the riddle meant," Anne said.
"Um, Tim, do you know the story of the labyrinth?" Ethan asked, remembering something he'd read back home.
"Didn't some king build it to keep a monster locked up?" Tim said.
"A monster?" Anne asked with some trepidation.
"Yeah," Ethan said. "I just hope that the only monster in this one was at the beginning. In the story the monster lived in the middle."
They resumed their trek, even more cautiously. Each turn came more quickly than the last now. Finally their passage reached a door, marked with the now familiar rune.
"Looks like the end at last," Anne said.
"Wands ready?" Ethan asked, trying to sound confident. The others nodded. "Let's find out what's on the other side, then."
He turned the knob and slowly opened the door. Tim led the way through the door, which silently swung behind them and clicked shut.
They now stood in a room that looked small until one looked up. The ceiling was so high that they could not see it.
In the torch light, Ethan spied a small trunk on the stone floor, lid open. Otherwise the room appeared empty.
"There's nothing here," he said. "Let's just go across and try the next door."
As they took their first step, something rattled in the trunk. Tim stepped towards it. There was a loud crack. The next moment Tim let out a great sob.
"Dad!" he cried.
Next to the trunk, where there had been nothing a moment before, Ethan now saw the sprawled body of a brawny man in overalls, plainly dead, vacant eyes turned upwards.
Tim collapsed to his knees, weeping, and covered his eyes.
Ethan looked grimly at Anne, who looked terribly scared.
"How could they do it? What's he doing here?" Tim gasped between sobs.
Suddenly another crack echoed through the room and the body disappeared, only to be replaced by three others, two young boys and a girl, all lifeless. Blood trickled from the girl's mouth, one of the boys had a terrible wound on his neck.
Tim reopened his eyes.
"No! Not them too! Will, Steven, Peggy?"
Ethan stepped over to Tim, not sure what to say or do. As he stood between his friend and the bodies of his brothers and sister, there was another crack! They were replaced by a sight that froze Ethan's blood. Towering over them was a gigantic figure made of flame wreathed in flickering shadows.
"It can't be!" he said as he felt an insane anger rising inside. But there was no denying that it was the creature unleashed so many years earlier from beneath Table Mountain. "It's all hopeless, then. We've lost."
Before he could say another word, Ethan saw Anne jump between him and the creature.
"No, Anne, don't go near it!" he yelled.
But she shouted back, "Don't look at it, either of you! Go back to the door! None of it's real! It's a boggart!"
Before this could really sink into Ethan's mind, Anne turned towards the creature. Crack! It disappeared. In its place was an old woman, whose grey hair still carried a hint of red, doubled over with pain, leaning on a walking stick.
"Ugh!" Anne exclaimed, but she managed to turn back to Ethan and Tim. "Come on, do as I say!"
She pulled Tim to his feet and shoved both boys back towards the door they'd entered through.
"That's a boggart?" Tim asked, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "I didn't know they could seem so real."
"What's a boggart?" Ethan managed to ask as he gaped at the old crone next to the trunk.
"They're shape-shifters," Anne explained. "They take on the appearance of whatever one fears the most. One washed up on our island when I was about six. Dad got rid of it."
"How'd he do it?" Ethan asked.
"There's a spell, but I don't know what it is," Anne answered.
"Well, that won't do us much good then," Tim commented. "How do I get by it without killing off the rest of my family? I'm telling you there's no way I can just walk by with their bodies just lying here."
They stood in silence for a moment
Ethan suddenly clapped a hand to the side of his head.
"Of course! Why didn't I think of it before?"
"Think of what, Ethan?" Anne asked. "Do you know the anti-boggart spell?"
"No, but something just as good," he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sock. "At least, I hope so."
He unrolled the sock, reached into it and pulled out a potion vial.
"Virtus Virtutis!" he said. "I'd forgotten I had it along. It's supposed to work against any fear you can name. If the boggart turns into your worst fear, this could counteract it."
"There's not too much there," Tim said.
"Crockett said a little goes a long way," Ethan recalled. "A teaspoon lasts a day, I think."
"Oh, drat! I've forgotten my measuring spoons," Anne said facetiously.
"Come on, we'll just guess," Ethan told her. "Just take a few sips. We shouldn't be here for 24 hours, I hope!"
He unstoppered the bottle and took a sip. It didn't taste bad; actually it had almost no taste at all, just a slight hint of lemon. The potion radiated warmth from his throat through his whole body. Ethan took two more sips and passed the bottle to Tim.
Anne and Tim looked at Ethan intently.
"Well, he hasn't dropped dead," Anne remarked. "Can't see any change at all."
Tim put the bottle to his lips and took one long sip. Then he gave the bottle to Anne, who followed suit.
"There, put the stopper back on," she said as she handed the bottle back to Ethan. "If this works, we may need it again sometime."
"Let's find out then," Tim said. He walked across the room. As he reached the trunk, crack! The old woman vanished, replaced by the corpse of a blonde, middle-aged woman in a checked apron and jeans.
Tim stopped in his tracks.
"Mom, no!"
"Get back here, Tim!" Anne shouted. But he was shaking violently, apparently unable to move. "We have to get him," Anne told Ethan. "Try not to look at the boggart!"
They ran towards Tim, shielding their eyes. Then they turned Tim around and dragged him back to where they'd started.
"It didn't work!" Tim gasped.
"But Crockett and Renfro said it would!" Ethan protested, trying to think. "Wait! They said it would work against any fear you can name."
"So you think we have to name the fear out loud?"
"I don't know what else to try," Ethan said.
"OK," said Tim shakily. "I'm afraid my family's going to be killed because of me, because of what I am."
Then he turned back towards his mother's body. As he neared it, crack! There was his father's body again.
Tim didn't stop until he'd reached the other door. He turned to the others, still looking grim. But he gave a quick thumbs up.
"I'll go next," Anne said. "I fear...I fear that I'll become old and helpless without ever having any adventures or accomplishing anything."
As she went past the boggart, the old woman reappeared, this time in an old wooden wheelchair. With a look of distaste, she walked on and joined Tim.
Ethan looked across the room at them for a moment, and then spoke.
"What I fear is the creature from Table Mountain and the way it makes me feel," he said.
He walked across the room. The monster of flame and shadow towered over the room again. Ethan kept his eyes on Tim and Anne and walked on by with only a slight twinge of anger.
"Whew!" Tim sighed. "Thank goodness that's over."
"Thank goodness Ethan paid attention in potions practical!" Anne added.
Ethan grasped the doorknob and turned it. This door opened easily and they stepped through.
"Look out!" Tim shouted and he threw his arms out to hold the others back. It was dark, but as Ethan's eyes adjusted he saw that they were on a narrow ledge. The room was circular and the ledge ran all the way around it. The ceiling was very high, maybe forty or fifty feet; a few torches hung irregularly from the rough stone walls. Ethan could see no doorway save the one they'd just passed through.
He looked down and caught his breath. There was a sheer drop from the ledge that Ethan guessed must have been nearly one-hundred feet. Below that the walls of the chasm formed a cone, at the bottom of which was a small rectangular opening.
"Looks like that's the only way out," he said, pointing down. But his thoughts were interrupted by a hissing sound and a sense that something was moving towards him over the abyss.
"Watch it!" he yelled. He and Tim jumped one way and Anne the other, just in time. A huge metal disc swept between Ethan and Anne, almost touching the wall before it swung back in the opposite direction. It passed a few inches from Ethan's face. He felt the breeze from its passing and saw that its edges were as sharp as a razor.
"What was that?" he gasped.
"It's a pendulum," Tim said, pointing up. Ethan looked and now he could see a huge brass rod extending from the ceiling, the disc at its bottom. As it swung slowly toward the other side of the room, they had some time to consider their predicament.
"Could we just slide straight down?" Anne asked.
"It's too far," Tim said. "And those stones are pretty rough."
"Let's go around to that side," Ethan suggested, pointing to his left. "Away from that pendulum."
But as they moved carefully along the precipice, Ethan was confounded to discover that the pendulum's plane was changing to match their movements. Once again the knife-edged disc was nearly upon them.
"Heads up!" he shouted, just in time for Tim to jump out of the way of the blade.
"We'd best keep our eyes on that," he said, looking at the disc retreat across the room.
"Anyone have any ideas on how to get out of here, before that thing comes back at us again?" Anne asked as they began moving again.
"Aside from closing our eyes and jumping?" Ethan asked. He'd really begun to wonder whether their journey was destined to end here in the center of the labyrinth.
"Hullo!" Tim exclaimed. "What's that on the wall over there?"
He pointed to a spot nearly opposite the door through which they'd entered the room.
Ethan shook his head. "Are those...?"
"Broomsticks!" Anne interjected.
Indeed there attached to the wall was a rack that appeared to hold three broomsticks.
They hurried to reach the rack before the pendulum swung back to their side again.
"These might work!" Anne said, eagerly grasping one of the brooms.
"This is too simple," Tim said doubtfully as he and Ethan took the other brooms, then backed away as the disc swept towards them.
"Don't count on it," Ethan said.
"Oh, come on, Tim! You made the quidditch team your first year!" Anne admonished him.
"Let's go, then!" Tim said as he kicked off the precipice. Ethan and Anne followed a moment later.
For the first few seconds, Ethan simply felt relieved to be freed from the narrow shelf around the wall. But almost immediately he saw that the others were having difficulty controlling their brooms.
He soon saw--or rather felt--why this was. The cylindrical room seemed to have a number of different vertical air currents, which took turns trying to toss them up towards the ceiling or down onto the stones below.
Further there was the matter of the pendulum, which again seemed to adjust its movements to their use of brooms. As Tim reached the center of the room, an air current sent him upwards just as the pendulum's disc swung towards him. He was able to veer out of the way just in time, spiraling above the blade and around the brass rod.
"I'm going to corkscrew down along the walls!" he shouted to Ethan and Anne. "See how it works before you follow me!"
"Be careful!" Ethan called back, struggling to fight an upward gust. Tim just waved and began zooming down, following the curve of the walls. He passed below the reach of the pendulum and kept spiraling down.
Anne and Ethan hovered, ready to follow Tim down to the chute. He was almost there.
"He's going too fast!" Anne cried. "Slow down!"
But it was too late. A downward blast of air knocked Tim off his broom about ten feet from the bottom of the cone. The broomstick clattered against the stone. Tim hurtled down towards the opening and nearly went through. At the last second his left leg caught and twisted on the edge of the opening.
Ethan heard a terrible cry of pain and watched Tim's leg give way and disappear through the chute below.
He had no time to think about it as the pendulum was swinging towards him again.
He tried to evade it, but a wind current threw him sideways against it. Fortunately he slammed against the flat side of the disc rather than the sharp edge.
He was dazed, the odor of the cold metal in his nose, but he managed to get his broom clear of the sweeping pendulum.
Anne zoomed to his side.
"Come on Ethan! You've got to go the same way Tim did, just be more careful at the bottom!"
The pendulum swung back at them, just missing them again.
"It's getting faster!" Ethan said, alarmed.
"You go! I'll keep that thing busy for awhile," Anne said.
"No, you can't stay up here!"
"Ethan, you're the one who has to save the Talisman! Not Tim, not me! Your parents did it before, now you've got to do it...Now go, please!"
Reluctantly, Ethan steered his broom out along the circular walls and then down in a spiral. He looked up and saw Anne leading the pendulum away from him. Then the blustery air currents took his full attention and he looked up no more. As he neared the bottom of the cone, he concentrated on braking the broom. The wind tried ceaselessly to slam him against the walls or down, but somehow he managed to alight safely next to the chute.
Now he looked up and shouted to Anne.
"Anne, it's OK! Come on down, now!"
A moment later, the disc swung in front of Anne, slicing the front half of her broomstick clean off. Somehow she'd gotten her arms out of the way, but she'd lost control of the broom. It swung crazily around the center of the room for a moment then hurtled downward. Anne hit the stones a few feet away from Ethan with a dreadful thud and slid feet first through the chute, her red hair disappearing last.
Ethan hurried to the opening himself, afraid of what he would find. He peered through and saw that it was a short drop into something like sawdust. He dropped down and found Tim kneeling over Anne's prone figure.
"Is she...?" Ethan asked fearfully.
"She's breathing," Tim said. "Knocked cold, but I don't think anything's broken."
"That's a miracle," Ethan said. "What about you?"
"I would have been fine, except for that last gust of wind," Tim answered, getting slowly to his feet. "But I think my leg' might be broken. There, below the knee."
"Can you go on?" Ethan asked.
"I'll try. But what about Anne?"
"She wanted us to go on no matter what," Ethan said. "If Peter got back OK, someone will be in looking for us soon. And there's nothing we can do for her ourselves, is there?"
Tim shook his head.
"Where do you suppose we are?" he asked.
"Dunno," said Ethan. "We must be miles under the school, though."
There was only one passage leading away from the chute. Tim limped on, grimacing. Leaving Anne unconscious on the floor didn't seem to augur well for the rest of their quest.
So it was that Ethan and Tim found their way cautiously down one more corridor, this one lit dimly with just an occasional torch on the wall.
It was slow going, for Tim couldn't put much weight on his left leg. The hall seemed to slope down and water trickled over the uneven stones. Twice they came upon short flights of stairs, and here Ethan had to help his friend down. After what seemed like miles, the path leveled off.
Just ahead of them, Ethan could see a doorway. Beyond flickered the light of many torches.
Ethan and Tim looked at each other, each wondering what they would face next.
"This could be it," Ethan whispered. "Very slowly, now."
He slipped his wand out of his pocket, and Tim did the same. In truth, neither felt they knew any spells that would help them against Tiverton.
They moved up to the doorway, Ethan to the right, Tim to the left, and looked in.
The room was circular. The half of the wall nearest them was lined with torches. A large gilded mirror hung from the wall a quarter-turn to their left.
Ethan saw that the opposite half of the wall was covered by a large painting, apparently a forested landscape.
One person stood with his back to them, near the opposite side of the room. It wasn't Professor Tiverton.