Lost Kingdom Read online

  Joey heard something outside the room. He leaned forward slightly, turning his ear toward the office door. “You guys hear that?”

  Shazad and Leanora sat up a little straighter. Leanora put a finger to her lips, signaling for everyone to be quiet. In the heavy silence that followed, a faint melodic sound in the distance was clearly audible. Leanora nodded slowly, her eyes alive with confusion and alarm. “It sounds like…”

  “Singing?” Shazad finished.

  “I thought I was imagining it,” Joey said.

  “There’s someone in the theater,” Shazad said, getting up. “I think our luck just ran out.”

  4 Three Witches

  Leanora double tapped her heels and her magic boots once again flapped their wings. The next thing Joey knew, she was at the door. “You two wait here,” she said. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”

  “Wait! We should go together,” Shazad called after her, but she was already gone. Grumbling, he picked up the Staff of Sorcero, which Leanora had left behind on Redondo’s desk. “This is what I’m talking about. Unnecessary risks. She didn’t even arm herself.”

  “She’s got her medallions,” Joey said, getting up.

  “Let’s hope our guest doesn’t have something stronger,” Shazad said, coming around the desk. “We’d better get down there.”

  “Right.” Joey had to hand it to Shazad. He didn’t like to fight, but he was no coward. When the situation called for action, he was there for it. You could always count on Shazad to have your back. Joey followed him out the door. In the hallway outside Redondo’s office, the singing was louder, but still far away. A woman’s voice drifted through the theater, originating somewhere near the stage.

  As Joey and Shazad crept down the hall, Joey tried to identify the voice, and failing that, the song. He couldn’t get a handle on either. The tune had an off-key, eerie quality that was somehow both unnerving and captivating. Joey had never heard anything like it. It didn’t sound like English. He wished he could make out the words.

  A door slammed somewhere in the theater and the singing stopped. Joey and Shazad froze at the top of the lobby’s grand staircase. They looked at each other in the silence and waited. Joey’s eyes were wide. He raised a hand to the side of his face, as if to help guide the slightest of echoes toward his ear. Nothing came.

  “I don’t hear it anymore,” Shazad said. “You?”

  Joey listened close. “Nothing. Maybe they’re gone?” As soon as he said the words, he was seized with concern for Leanora and hoped that she had not gone with whoever it was that had been singing. “Lea?” he shouted. “Are you okay?”

  No one answered.

  “Leanora!” Shazad called out. “Are you there?”

  More silence.

  Gripped by fears that their friend had just been taken by the Invisible Hand, Joey and Shazad went racing down the steps as fast as they could go. Halfway down they crashed into someone and gravity took over. Joey didn’t know who it was that had hit them, but they hit hard, knocking the wind out of him. He thought of DeMayne and his enchanted armor as they tumbled down, head over heels, and landed on the lobby floor in a tangled heap. Shazad was on his feet in a flash. He sprang up, spun the Staff of Sorcero around until it was full size, and stood ready to strike.

  “Stop!” Leanora said, putting her hands up. “Shazad, it’s me. It’s okay.”

  Shazad exhaled and relaxed his stance, lowering the staff to his side.

  “Thank goodness,” Joey said. “We were worried about you.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Nothing to worry about?” Shazad scoffed. “That’s debatable.” He offered Leanora his hand. “That was reckless, running off by yourself like that,” he said, helping her up on her feet. “What happened? Who was here?”

  “Was it her?” Joey tacked on. “Was it Scarlett?”

  Leanora nodded. “I think so. I can’t say for sure, though. I didn’t see her.”

  “She’s gone, then?” Joey asked. “Already?”

  “Looks like,” Leanora said, dusting herself off. “I took a lap around the theater. As far as I can tell, we’re the only ones inside.”

  Joey wiped his brow. “That’s a relief.”

  “Not for me it’s not,” Shazad said. “I want to know how she got in. Also, what was she doing here? Did she take anything?”

  “I don’t know,” Leanora said. “We should check.”

  “If she was going to steal something, she would have gone about it more quietly, don’t you think?” Joey said. “Maybe she was just snooping around.” He ran the back of his thumb across his lower lip, turning the matter over in his mind. Then he dropped his hand and shook his head, walking back the statement. “No. Even then, it doesn’t make any sense. Why would she be singing? It’s like she wanted us to know she was here. I don’t get it.”

  “Could be she wanted to rattle us,” Leanora suggested.

  “Sure, but why stop there?” Joey asked. “Scarlett’s been trying to get in here for weeks. You’re telling me she finally succeeds, and all she does is pop in and pop back out?”

  “We’re assuming it was Scarlett,” Shazad said. “We don’t know that.”

  “I think we do.” Leanora opened the doors to the main auditorium and motioned for the others to follow her in. “There’s something you guys ought to see.”

  She led them down the aisle, up onstage, and behind the curtain, all the way back to the service entrance in the rear of the theater. The good news was, it was closed. The bad news was, it had been covered with a sloppy coat of white paint. Thick drips oozed down the front of the door like Elmer’s glue. There was paint inside the doorframe, going through to the other side. From the looks of things, Scarlett’s failed attempts to bypass the theater’s front door had met with greater success in the back.

  “Where does this door go?” Shazad asked.

  Joey turned. “You don’t know? We’ve been here a month.”

  “I don’t use a door to get here,” Shazad said.

  “Fair enough,” Joey said, noting that he had no idea how Shazad traveled to and from the theater.

  “I do,” Leanora said. “Just not any of these doors.”

  “This one doesn’t go anywhere,” Joey explained. “There’s a back alley with a dumpster. That’s it.”

  “Hang on,” Shazad cut in, tensing up. “Listen.”

  Everyone held their breath and inched toward the door, getting as close as they could without bumping up against wet paint. The mysterious singing had faded down to muted humming, but it was the same odd song, and it was coming from the other side of the door.

  “She’s in the alley,” Joey said, his stomach constricting.

  “If it’s her,” Shazad said.

  “Who else would it be?” Leanora asked.

  The humming on the other side of the door continued.

  “What’s she up to?” Shazad asked. “Is she taunting us? Trying to lure us out?”

  “I don’t know what she’s doing,” Leanora said.

  As the two of them speculated on Scarlett’s possible motives, Joey took out Redondo’s magic deck of cards and drew three off the top. He was hoping for a clue. As usual, he ended up with a trio of cards he’d never seen before and didn’t understand. This time, it was three women who looked like witches. The first was a young woman with a spool of thread labeled THE MAIDEN. The second was a middle-aged woman knitting, labeled THE MOTHER. The last was an ancient woman holding a pair of shears. The name written below her picture read THE CRONE. The names and images were strangely familiar to Joey, but not enough to jog a specific memory. He didn’t know who or what was waiting behind the door, but as he looked at the cards, something inside Joey told him he had to find out. He put the cards away and reached for the knob.

  “What are you doing?” Shazad asked.

  “It’s okay,” he replied, surprised to hear the words coming out of his mouth.

  “
Joey, don’t!” Leanora called out.

  She clutched his arm, but it was too late. He was already past her. Joey’s heart galloped in his chest, but his hand was steady. He gripped the doorknob as if compelled to do so. He didn’t know what he was thinking, but he did it before anyone could stop him. Shazad and Leanora gasped as Joey threw the door open. Across the threshold was not the alleyway, but the interior of a small cottage. Joey breathed a little easier when he saw it. The impossibility of the scene didn’t faze him. He had seen doors like this one open up with Siberia on the other side. He had seen walls fall away and transport him from his bedroom into alternate dimensions. Magical gateways were a fact of life for Joey these days, so the phenomenon laid out before him was not unbelievable. Just unexpected. Likewise, Leanora and Shazad were not taken aback at the sight of the portal as much as they were taken by surprise.

  The room on the other side of the door was inviting, full of amber light and warmth, both of which came from a large, central fireplace. There was a woman there, putting wood on the fire, but it wasn’t Scarlett. She looked like the maiden on Joey’s card, dressed in black robes with long blond hair. She glanced back over her shoulder, and they got a good look at her face. She was young, beautiful, and not terribly surprised to see Joey and his friends. She nodded, taking note of their presence at the door, but said nothing. The woman turned back around, stoking the fire and humming away.

  Joey took a tentative step forward. “You want to talk about reckless,” Leanora muttered as Joey edged his way into the cottage.

  “I didn’t think it was possible a second ago, but he’s got you beat,” Shazad replied.

  “C’mon, guys,” Joey said, moving forward inch by inch. “We have to find out what’s going on here, don’t we?” His voice was shaky. He couldn’t be certain that his actions weren’t being driven by something stronger than mere curiosity, but he pressed on, crossing into the room. He found the mystery woman impossible to resist, despite the fact that she seemed perfectly content to ignore him.

  Inside, the cottage was like something out of an old fairy tale or fable. Handcrafted from stone and wood, it had crooked walls that met at odd angles. All around there were shelves packed tight with bottles and jars of varying shapes and sizes. Joey couldn’t tell what was in them, but ingredients for magic potions felt like a safe bet. In the corner, there was an antique cast-iron stove with a long black pipe that ran up into the ceiling. Next to that sat an empty cauldron, and in the center of the room, a rustic wooden table covered with assorted roots and herbs, a mortar, pestle, and several mixing bowls.

  Once Joey was all the way inside the room, he was struck by the odd design of the fireplace, which had a mustache instead of a mantel. The stone wall around it had been sculpted in the shape of a bearded man’s face, and the fire blazed inside its large, gaping mouth. As the blond woman put another log on the fireplace hearth, it gave new meaning to the phrase “feeding the fire.” Joey felt like the stone face in the wall was staring at him. Its expression was intense, its eyes judgmental, and yet Joey wasn’t afraid. The scene inside the cottage was odd but not unsettling. There was powerful magic at work in the room, and Joey couldn’t explain it, but at that moment he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. The others must have felt it too, because they followed him in, checking their reluctance at the door.

  “What is this place?” Leanora asked, looking around.

  “And who’s she?” Shazad added in a whisper.

  “I don’t know,” Joey whispered back. “Maybe we should ask her.”

  Shazad gave a nod and dove in. “Hello?” he asked, trying to get the woman’s attention with a nonthreatening wave. “How did you get in here? No one can get in here but us.”

  The woman abandoned the fire and turned to face them. “Is that what you think?” The corners of her mouth turned up in amusement. “Look again. I’m not in your home. You’re in mine.”

  Shazad glanced about the cottage. She had him there. “I’m talking about before this,” he said. “You were in the theater. It had to be you. We heard—”

  “You should ask your questions one at a time,” the woman said, raising her voice to talk over Shazad. “And it’s better if you don’t interrupt.” She wagged a finger, and Shazad clammed up. “I go where I need to go when the time comes for me to go there. That includes Redondo’s theater just now, this morning, and long before that. I knew Redondo before he was Redondo. I’m the one who gave him those cards you have in your pocket,” she added, pointing at Joey. Her eyes flicked back to Shazad. “That’s one.”

  Joey squinted at the woman. One what? he wondered as she turned back to the fire and held a thin stick of wood in the flame. Once the end of the taper was lit, she carried it to a small household shrine in the corner of the room. It was little more than a side table with a group of candles set on top. They were all burned down to the base save for one, which had not been touched. She lit that candle and stuck the burning stick of wood into a jar of sand on the floor. As she moved away from the shrine, Joey moved in for a closer look. The newly lit candle was tall and wide. It was inscribed with markings and rested on an ink-brush painting that bore a striking resemblance to the graffiti tag he had seen on the Majestic Theatre entrance. Joey stared at the image, telling himself it couldn’t be. Then he looked underneath the burned-out candles surrounding the fresh one. They had melted away to nothing. Spent wax had hardened in globby drips that covered the table and more ink-brush paintings. Joey recognized the designs as the tags that had previously graced the Majestic’s front door. The ones that had disappeared, week after week.

  As Joey pondered the shrine’s mysterious connection to the theater, Leanora stood in the open doorway behind him, inspecting the cottage’s physical connection. “We’re in your home…,” she said, trying to figure out how they got there. “It’s the paint,” she decided, touching a finger to the wet paint inside the doorframe. “I’ve never seen a gateway like this before. You used magic paint to bind this place to the theater?”

  The fire in the stone face flickered as if a gust of wind had blown through the room. The flames died down halfway, the room grew darker, and just like that, the blond woman aged thirty years. At first Joey thought it was because of the bad lighting, but a second look removed all doubt in his mind. Her blond hair had turned partially gray. Her face was fuller, with creases around the eyes and mouth. Joey, Shazad, and Leanora shared very startled looks. The woman smiled sweetly, oblivious to her change in appearance.

  “The magic gets mixed in, child. The paint on the doorway contains a blend of plants, herbs, and oils that can still be found in the world—provided you know where to look.” The woman crossed to the table in the center of the room, dropped a few roots and leaves into a bowl of orange paint, and started mixing. “If you’ve got the right recipe, you can use it for a great many things. For example, attaching my home to the theater and extending my protections with a symbol on the door. Maybe you recognize it? I think your friend here does.” She nodded toward Joey, who was still standing at the shrine. “Those candles are infused with the same essence as the paint and marked in an ancient language. Something long forgotten.” She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled again, this time with an air of sadness. “That’s two.”

  “Hey, guys, over here.” Joey motioned for the others to join him at the shrine. “Get a load of this.”

  Leanora and Shazad joined Joey in front of the candles. Armed with their host’s explanation, they realized right away what they were looking at. “These are protective charms,” Leanora said. “Four dead candles, one per week… That covers the last month.”

  “With a fresh one starting up today,” Joey said.

  Shazad nodded, piecing it together. “The candles burn out, the paint fades on the theater door.…”

  “So she marks the door with a new symbol and lights a new candle,” Leanora said, finishing his thought.

  “It’s her,” Joey agreed. “S
he’s the one tagging the door, not Scarlett. These marks aren’t break-in attempts. She’s been helping us. You’re helping us!” he repeated, spinning around to face the woman at the table. “Not that I’m complaining, but… why?”

  Woosh. Another phantom wind came through to put the dying fire out of its misery. Nothing but embers and smoldering ash remained. Joey and his friends were left with the light of a lone candle and whatever light came in through the open door. It took a few seconds for Joey’s eyes to adjust. Once they did, he saw the woman was now ancient. Her transformation shouldn’t have surprised him so much the second time around, but it did because it was so drastic. She was suddenly a hundred years old or more. Her gray hair was now stark white and stringy. The fine lines on her face became deep-set wrinkles, and she stood a foot shorter with a posture that was painfully hunched. Joey thought of the cards he had drawn, Maiden, Mother, and Crone. He wondered if the woman was aging, or if she was somehow all three women at the same time.

  “I’ve been helping you,” the old lady began in a creaky voice, “because I’ve been waiting for you three a very long time. I gave you this time alone in your theater so you wouldn’t have everyone telling you what to do. Choosing your path for you. You have to follow your own hearts, dearies. I bought you time to find your way, but you haven’t done it. You’re still lost, and time is running out.” She pointed to the shrine. “This candle here is the last one I’ll light.”

  “The last one?” said Shazad. “What happens when it burns out?”

  Joey held his breath. The woman had grown older each time they had asked her a question. If it happened again, she was going to turn into a skeleton. Fortunately, Shazad’s words had no effect on her. “Sorry,” the old lady said. “That’s three.”

  “Three? Three what?” asked Leanora.

  Leanora’s question was ignored as well. The old lady smiled to herself as she hobbled to the wall and picked up a cane. Joey understood what she meant, much to his chagrin. “We only get three questions,” he said. “You could have told us that when we came in.”