Chapter Twenty-Seven: Resent or Resemble?
Carmen began shuffling through the darkness. Apparently, so was Two-Bit, because they ran right into each other.
"Ouch!" they both gasped, then, "Sorry."
"I don't think he has a light switch in here," Two-Bit remarked.
"He has torch holders," Carmen said.
"How do you know?"
"I saw them when we came in."
"I think I found one," Two-Bit called from the other side of the dungeon.
"So light it." The words were no sooner out of Carmen's mouth when every single torch erupted in flames, illuminating the entire dungeon.
"Magic. Light one, light 'em all," she said, turning to a stunned Two-Bit, who was holding a lighter.
"How could you have been so stupid?" he demanded, the astonished look on his face hardening into one of rage. "Making a deal like that, that's about the stupidest thing you've ever done, and believe me, you've done some pretty stupid things since I've known you, and—"
"Two-Bit," Carmen interrupted, "we haven't got time for this."
"Okay," he said angrily, tucking his lighter back in his pocket. "I'll yell at you later. What are we going to do for this obstacle course thing?"
"I don't know," Carmen said, scanning the dungeon carefully. "But I bet you anything Mordred's listening in right now."
"How the hell are we supposed to plan anything if he knows what we're doing?" Two-Bit demanded.
"I don't know!"
"What if he can't?" Two-Bit said. "It's worth a shot, right?" When Carmen hesitated, he went on. "Come on. We can't plan anything if we can't talk. And we won't get anything done if we spend the whole time worrying about Mordred."
Carmen hesitated a moment before answering, "Okay."
"What were you thinking?" Two-Bit asked.
"Something to do with mortals," Carmen said. "Because that's what he hates."
"So where do we put him that has to do with mortals?"
"Somewhere complicated, somewhere he'll never figure out how to get out of," Carmen said absently. She was thinking.
"What about life?" Two-Bit suggested randomly.
Carmen stared at him. "Like, the 'real world'?"
"Something like that," Two-Bit frowned. That was the first time he had heard Carmen use "like" in that manner. Tulsa was rubbing off on her. He wasn't sure he liked it.
"And the only way to get out is…" Carmen was saying.
"To die? No, wait, that's too easy. And he'd just kill his assistant," Two-Bit said.
"Get out. As in escape. As in the saying, 'escape from the real world'," Carmen said aloud. "Two-Bit, you're a genius!" She paused. "So how do you do that?"
"TV. Food. Sleep," Two-Bit said. Another thought occurred to him and he grinned. "Blondes…"
"Excuse me, I resent that remark," Carmen said irritably.
"Resent or resemble?" Two-Bit said. Carmen wanted to smack the smile off his face.
"Too easy," she said.
"What's your great idea, then?" Two-Bit said, offended.
"I'm thinking," Carmen mumbled.
"Think fast, the sun's coming up."
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Russell wove the strands of light together as fast as Mordred could spin them, hastily knotting the ends together, weaving a Navajo-type rug and bringing a whole new meaning to "weaving a spell".
"Do not leave any gaps or spaces between the threads," Mordred warned. "We mustn't leave any room for them to escape before they overcome the rug…which they won't be able to."
Russell double-checked all his knots and threads before finishing the final portion of the rug: he left, as per Mordred's instructions, a tiny hole on the edge. As Mordred had explained, the Navajos had believed, hundreds of years ago, that a rug without a tiny hole would become tangled with a dark wind. The hole in their rug was the only way out of the stage Mordred was setting.
Russell wondered what Carmen and the mortal were plotting. Mordred and he had been working on this rug all night, but Russell had little doubt that Mordred was somehow spying on them. With all the power he had, he could conduct as many as five spells at once.
Mordred scrutinized the rug an inch from his nose. "Well, well," he said deviously. "It seems, boy, that your fumbling lack of order in weaving this spell has added to it aspects that I never would have dreamed of. No doubt it was an accident, but, then again, many a great invention has come about by fault."
His eyes narrowed. "Idiot! You've made faults in the pattern concerning the Tryvcrt." His expression changed as he continued inspection. "No matter. If it doesn't get them, the grand finale will." He chuckled.
He folded the rug over his arm and glanced out the window. They were in the topmost tower. Russell blinked at the dull light of the rising sun.
"It is time," said Mordred.
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The torches flickered and then went out. Two-Bit and Carmen were plunged into darkness. Two-Bit dropped Carmen's hand and shivered involuntarily.
"Time's up," Mordred said softly from somewhere in from of them. A flame was lit, and the wizard was cast in eerie light that sharpened the hard, bony edges of his face and lent an evil glint to his malicious eyes.
The flame's light grew steadily, until they were surrounded by a circle of insatiable fire.
Two-Bit was reminded bizarrely of the Johnny Cash song.
"Are you prepared?" Mordred asked.
Two-Bit stole a glance at Carmen, who nodded. She held out, with both hands, a beat-up paperback book opened to the first page. Although flabbergasted, Two-Bit had enough sense to keep his mouth shut. His confusion only increased when Mordred unfurled before them what looked like a Native American rug.
Mordred beckoned his apprentice forward. Russell stepped up and descended headfirst into the book Carmen was holding out. No stranger to disappearing into seemingly solid objects, Two-Bit reasoned that the book must be the start of whatever obstacle course Mordred had to overcome.
Mordred ascended air like it was a stepladder to the level that Carmen was holding out the book, and slid neatly through the pages.
"Come on," Carmen said. She gingerly tapped the rug with her sneaker. Taking a deep breath, she stood on it and sank through it like quicksand. One moment, Two-Bit was looking at her. The next, the threads were closing over her head.
Two-Bit swallowed hard. It doesn't matter, he tried to reassure himself. I still live either way.
But what about Carmen?
He didn't have time for this. Holding his breath, he scrunched his eyes shut, bent his knees, and jumped. There was the fleeting sensation that he had leapt off the high dive into the deep end of the pool, cool chlorine all around him. He dared to open his eyes, but as soon as he did, it was gone.
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And that's that chapter. Okay, listen up: I have two ideas. I could make this short and sweet and end it quick, or make it drag like ten chapters more, but it would have more action scenes and whatever. Your choice. Vote now or condemn yourself to whatever I choose.