The Thirteenth Fairy Page 18

  They join Alistair and Jack, who are waiting with the wolves by the camels. Alistair informs the group that the camels will take them where they need to go.

  “Camels?” asks Rolf.

  “Yes, it’s the only way through the dunes. The bikes will sink in the sand.”

  There’s a little grumbling from the wolves, but soon they’re on their camels. Alistair leads the way, the other camels trailing his as they take off toward the vast desert.

  “Am I the only one who realizes that wolves are riding on camels?” Sid whines. “They are completely unnecessary.”

  “Actually,” Alistair cuts in curtly, “they are necessary. These are the Baba family camels, the only ones who know the way to the secret cave. You can’t get there without them.”

  The sun beats down on them. Filomena loses track of time, unable to guess how long they’ve been riding across the hot, empty desert.

  Gretel starts to complain of thirst. “Why would we ever go into a desert without at least one bottle of water?” she whines.

  “We’ll be fine,” Alistair says confidently. “The cavern isn’t too far from here, I think.” Then he whispers, “I hope.”

  Moments later, as though he somehow jinxed them, gusts of wind kick up around the riders, whipping their hair back. The squalls send sand flying every which way, into their eyes and against their bodies, pelting them with painful prickles. They try to shield their eyes with their arms as the winds snake and bend, ravaging the previously calm and monotonous landscape. The sudden windstorm makes the dry heat and intense sun feel even worse, increasing the overall discomfort tenfold.

  “What’s happening?!” Filomena yells.

  “Just follow me! It’s a desert defense mechanism! Which means we’re getting close to the secret cavern!” Alistair shouts back. “Everyone, try to stay calm and don’t panic! We just need to get past the oasis, and then we’re there!”

  They fight their way through the sandstorm, the camels steadfastly moving forward. At last the winds die down, and they find themselves in the middle of a green oasis. Palm trees surround a sparkling pond and comfortable tents with tables full of fruit and water.

  “We can stop for a drink of water, but we can’t stay long,” says Alistair.

  “Why not?” asks Gretel.

  “Because then we’ll never be able to leave,” he explains. “The oasis is enchanted to keep people here and dissuade looters from trying to find the cave.”

  The members of the group quickly help themselves to refreshments. Filomena is skeptical of the enchantment at first but then feels the spell working on her. How nice it would be to sit in that lounge chair by the water. Why, she would never want to leave! Then she realizes she has to snap out of it.

  “Let’s go, let’s go!” says Alistair as Jack tries to help hustle the others out of the tents and back onto the camels.

  The wolves grumble, and Rolf strives to keep them together. “Come on, come on, no time to rest, let’s go.”

  When they’re beyond the spell of the oasis, Filomena feels sharper and in her right mind once more.

  The camels keep their steady pace, and for hours the riders journey in the blazing heat until they come to a rocky mountain rising up from the sands and blocking their way.

  Alistair stops right in front of it, and the rest of the group does the same.

  “Is this it?” calls Jack.

  “Are we here?” asks Filomena, shielding her eyes.

  “You’d better hurry up,” says Rolf, who’s sniffing the air suspiciously. “I smell ogre.”

  The wolves tense and everyone looks around, but the desert is, well, deserted. There’s no one for miles, at least not that they can see.

  Filomena cranes her neck in every direction, but she sees only the blindingly bright sand dunes. She hopes that if ogres followed them out here, maybe they’ve sunk into the sand.

  “I didn’t just stop here for no reason,” Alistair huffs, getting off his camel and walking to the mountain’s rocky wall. “Open sesame!” he commands.

  There is a squeak and then a dull roar as the door to the cavern opens slowly.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  THE CAVERN

  Alistair looks pleased. “We’ll leave the camels here and go the rest of the way on foot.”

  “Me and Rox are going to stay out here,” says Sid, looking suspiciously at the dark cavern. “Stand guard.”

  “Good plan,” says Rolf approvingly. “The rest of you, come with me.”

  Jack removes the Seeing Eye from his pocket. Its light casts a dim glow into the dark cavern.

  Alistair motions to the lit torches stacked by the side of the door, and they each take one. “The secret cavern of the lamp has been in my family for centuries,” he says, and adds quietly, “My parents died keeping it secret from the ogre queen.”

  Filomena puts a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Alistair.”

  He sighs. “I was just a baby. I don’t even remember them. Anyway, there’s no use feeling bad about things that happened so long ago. Come on.”

  The cavern is moldy and dark, but the deeper the group goes, the lighter it gets. When they round a bend, they are bathed in luminescence.

  “Wait till the dragons get a load of this,” says Filomena, scanning a room that is stacked from floor to ceiling with gold, precious gems, and treasures of all kinds.

  “Er, yeah, don’t tell them,” says Alistair. “Family legend says this was an ancient dragon hoard.”

  Jack is running nimbly up and down the treasure pile and looking around. There are a lot of lamps. “So where is it?”

  “I’m not exactly sure,” says Alistair. “I think it’s in one of these treasure chests.”

  “You don’t know?” asks Filomena accusingly.

  “Um, Aladdin got married a while back, okay? And I wasn’t the one who put it away,” says Alistair crossly. He removes a key ring from his pocket and begins distributing the keys to the group. “We’re just going to have to open all the chests till we find it.”

  Jack and Rolf begin to stack the treasure chests in a row so that Alistair, Gretel, and Filomena can open them with the keys Alistair handed out. It’s tedious work finding the right key for the right lock, and the treasure chests contain a variety of items.

  “Tablecloths?” asks Gretel, opening one and finding folded linens inside.

  “Um, Alistair?” says Filomena, finding a trove of baby pictures in another.

  “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure,” says Alistair. “I told you, these are family heirlooms.”

  “I don’t know why we worried so much about the ogres getting their hands on the lamp. If we can’t find it, I doubt they can,” says Jack, mopping his head.

  “Hold on!” calls Rolf from the other side of the cavern. “I think I have something!”

  They look up to see him holding a large oil lamp, made of pure gold and encrusted with dazzling diamonds.

  “No, that’s not it,” says Alistair. “It was a small one. Old and rusty.”

  They are crestfallen.

  At last they have opened each treasure chest and spilled the contents onto the cavern floor.

  No lamp.

  “It has to be here,” says Alistair. “We just need to keep looking.”

  Jack, who’s been scanning the edges of the room, runs back. “I found a second tunnel over there. I think it leads to another treasure room.”

  Alistair shrugs. “Can’t hurt. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  DARKNESS

  They are following Jack, who’s using the Seeing Eye to lead them to the other cavern, when Filomena hears something. It’s very faint. Water dripping? Footsteps? Or just her mind playing tricks on her in the dark?

  She tries to focus on the sound, but there’s nothing. She’s just jumpy.

  Next to her, Alistair looks glum. “I’m the only one of my family left, the last of the Bartholomew Barnabys,” he says. “I’m
supposed to keep it safe. The lamp, I mean.”

  “You’ve done that,” says Filomena. “The ogres don’t have it.”

  “I guess. But we don’t, either.”

  Filomena can’t argue with that. “I hope no one stole it.”

  “No one can. I’m the only one who can open the cavern,” Alistair says. Then he confesses, “I guess I thought I’d somehow sense where the lamp is. Like, it would call to me or something.”

  “Really? It does that?”

  “I don’t know. I thought it did,” says Alistair miserably. “My parents didn’t live long enough to tell me all their secrets. They just left the map and the camels, and that’s it.”

  Jack, who’s walking swiftly ahead of them, suddenly stops and makes a motion for quiet. “Did you hear that?”

  Rolf sniffs the air. “I didn’t hear it, but I smelled it.”

  “What is it?” asks Gretel fearfully.

  They wait in silence, the darkness closes in on them, and the only light is the dim glow from Jack’s Seeing Eye illuminating the fear on their faces.

  “Shh,” says Rolf when Alistair starts to speak. He nods to Jack. “We’re not alone.”

  Jack nods back, puts a hand on his Dragon’s Tooth sheath, and turns to the rest of them. “Get ready.”

  Filomena thinks everyone can hear her heart pounding—it’s thumping right out of her chest. She steadies her hand on her sword. She’s faced ogres before; she can face them again. Of course the ogres have followed them all the way here. The trolls probably told them what happened and where they were headed.

  But Alistair isn’t paying attention. He has knelt in the darkness and is rooting around, as if he’s dropped something … or found something. “Guys … wait…,” he says.

  “Silence!” commands Rolf.

  Alistair stops.

  The cavern is so quiet, and at first they don’t hear any sound at all … so quiet that it feels as if the cave itself is holding its breath.

  There’s nothing.

  Just the sound of their breathing.

  Water dripping from the roof of the cave …

  But then …

  There it is …

  A wolf howl.

  A warning.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CRY WOLF

  “HUNTERS! THEY’RE HERE!” Rolf yells, before turning into the Big Bad Wolf that he is. The rest of the pack transforms as well, snarling and leaping into the fray.

  All at once, battle breaks out around them. They’re surrounded by ogres on every side. The wolves howl and attack, throwing themselves against their sworn enemies, while Jack’s sword clashes against ogre hammer.

  Filomena kicks and stabs her way past a group of ogres swinging their mallets. Gretel screams as she wields her sword, making sure that blood doesn’t get on her new dress.

  But there are too many of them.

  One of the ogres swings a massive arm at Jack, knocking him down.

  “Jack!” Alistair yells, rushing to help his friend. He takes two steps before another ogre stomps over, blocking his path to Jack.

  The ogre lets out a grunt as he swats Alistair away, sending him flying in the air until he hits the cavern wall with a thud.

  Filomena turns at the sound of Alistair’s groan. She wants to help him, but she’s too far. The wolves and ogres are locked in fierce battle. There are three ogres to one wolf, and as much as the wolves bite and tear, the ogres are huge and many.

  “Get away from him, you monster!” Gretel screams at the ogre who has overpowered Rolf. She sinks her blade into his back, and the ogre slumps.

  But the rest of the pack isn’t faring as well.

  They’ve got to get out of here.

  Filomena tries to make her way to her fallen friends. But Alistair, lying on the ground, is desperately pointing to something.

  What does he want?

  What is he pointing at?

  Then she understands.

  Before Alistair was attacked, he had chanced on something. He was looking for something in the dark. No, he had found something.

  The lamp!

  She has to get to it before any of the ogres do.

  She ducks down and begins to crawl while the battle rages around her. Maybe they won’t notice. Maybe she’ll be okay. She’ll get the lamp and somehow make all this right.

  She inches forward, then freezes. She turns around and sees that Alistair has been captured. He’s in the clutches of a very large and very angry ogre who is screaming, spitting in his face. “ALI BABA, WHERE IS THE LAMP?”

  “I don’t know!” squeaks Alistair. “It’s not here!”

  “Tell us or die lying!” the ogre warns.

  Alistair closes his eyes and waits for the worst.

  With the ogres focused on Alistair, they don’t notice Filomena. She’s just a few feet away. She’s almost there when Jack calls out, begging the ogres to leave Alistair alone.

  “He doesn’t have it! Let him go!” Jack yells.

  “Is that you again, Stalker?” the ogre asks. “Killed a giant but couldn’t save your own family!”

  The other ogres join in to taunt and jeer at Jack.

  “And you certainly won’t be able to save your friend,” the ogre says with a laugh, then turns to his companions. “We don’t need him alive, you lazy fools.”

  “My pleasure,” another ogre responds with a cruel smile, moving to catch Jack.

  But Jack is too quick.

  Too nimble.

  He jumps out of the way.

  Filomena reaches the spot where Alistair was pointing. She looks around. Where is it? Where is the lamp?

  She tries to tune out the screaming, tune out the wolves’ roaring, tune out her fear for her friends. She just has to find it.

  “C’mon,” Filomena mutters in frustration, frantically searching the dusty floor for the hidden treasure.

  Then she sees it.

  A tiny bottle with a stopper.

  Aladdin’s lamp.

  Just an old, small, rusty oil lamp, that’s all it is. Centuries old. Been in my family for generations. Stolen from a dragon’s hoard.

  She reaches for it, almost curling her fingers around it, just as a giant hand clasps her arm.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  OGRE’S WRATH INDEED

  “GOT YOU!” The ogre laughs.

  Filomena grimaces as his laughter washes over her. The ogre is practically breathing in her face. Trapped in his grip, she can’t reach for her sword. All she can do is endure the smelly and clammy assault. The stench is enough to almost make her pass out. “Ever hear of a breath mint?” she asks.

  The ogre tightens his grip and looks Filomena straight in the eye. “Shut up about snacks before you become one,” he says menacingly.

  Filomena wonders if this is the end for her. Then a thunderbolt crashes to the ground next to her. The earth cracks, and the rumble knocks everyone off-balance. The ogre drops Filomena just as another thunderbolt strikes. This one crashes into the cave wall, breaking the first layer of the surface into pieces. As the rock topples and settles on the ground, more thunderbolts strike in rapid succession, followed by the maniacal laughter that Filomena has heard before.

  In the chaos, Filomena grabs the tiny lamp and stuffs it into her pocket. “I have it! I have the lamp!” she cries. But there’s no time to celebrate.

  “She’s here!” the ogres cheer. “The queen!”

  The legendary ogre queen, the one who has kept all of Never After in fear of her growing power.

  “It’s her!” cry the wolves, back to their human selves again.

  One more flash of lightning and the ogre queen appears in the cave.

  Queen Olga of Orgdale is as beautiful and as terrible as she had been on the day of the christening.

  Her golden locks are flying, her face as cold as winter. “Where is it?” she hisses in a voice like snakes and sandpaper.

  “Where’s what?” says Jack bravely.

  Olg
a turns to him and gasps. “YOU!” she screeches. “You’re the little thief who killed my husband!”

  Jack stands his ground without flinching. “Your ogre husband was starving all the villages. I stole what we needed to survive, that’s all. And I didn’t kill him. He fell!”

  “You little worm! I’ll have my revenge yet! Now, hand it over!” Olga screams.

  “We don’t have it,” says Alistair.

  “LIES!” she yells as she transforms into the horrible ogre that she truly is, bulbous and oily and rotten. “HAND ME THE LAMP!”

  “Never!” yells Filomena. “You’ll never have it!”

  Olga laughs again, and this time the laughter is low, throaty, and intimate. “And who in all of fairyland are you?”

  In answer, the mark on Filomena’s forehead shines in the darkness. “I am under the protection of the fairy Carabosse!”

  Olga laughs again. “Oh, Carabosse, she tried her best, didn’t she? Thirteenth fairy. Protective aunt. Vengeful sister. Fairy godmother. Prophecies and curses and claims to the throne. She thought she was so clever. But all the mortals believe my lies! Her story is ended! The fairies are gone. Never After is mine!” She seethes and stomps. “NOW, ENOUGH! GIVE ME THE LAMP!”

  The cavern plunges into darkness once more, and this time when the light returns, Filomena sees that all her friends have an ogre’s blade at their throats.

  “Don’t give it to her,” says Jack. “You can’t. Or we will be lost forever.”

  “The story can’t end here,” begs Alistair.

  “Do what you need to do,” advises Gretel. “Don’t give that old bag anything.”

  “The wolves are with you,” Rolf promises.

  Filomena grips the lamp, so small and sweaty in her fist.

  “Choose, mortal. Your friends or this lamp.”

  In the end, Filomena remembers that she’s never had friends. And so it’s an easy thing to hand over.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  THE RULES OF MAGIC

  “Your heart is bigger than your brain,” Olga sneers as she snaps up the lamp in her taloned fingers.