“JACK . . .” ALY MOANED. She flopped onto the floor, her eyes fluttering.
“Get out get out get out!” I cried, shaking the invisible bars. They were stuck solid. Not budging.
Inches from me, Cass was trying to cradle Aly’s head, but his hands were twitching. I couldn’t keep my eyes from crossing. My lungs screamed at me. I turned and tried to gulp more fresh air. When I turned back, Leonard was crawling groggily out of Cass’s tunic pocket. In the light from the torch outside the door, I could see the glint of a tiny silver shard caught in the lizard’s claw.
A gum wrapper.
It gave me an idea.
I threaded my arm through the cage’s bars and reached inside. Fumbling in the pocket of Cass’s tunic, I extracted a pack of Wrigley’s spearmint. It took all the concentration I could muster to unwrap one piece and begin to chew it. My mouth was dry, but I worked it, willing the saliva to come. I would need it.
I turned and took another breath of fresh air. Then, against all instincts, I forced myself to hold my breath and walk into the room.
Sshhhish.
This projectile grazed my tunic. I flinched, stepping aside. I was trembling, oxygen-starved.
Move.
I was also standing. But no one was firing at me.
I threw the gum wrapper to my right. Toward the direction I’d come.
Sshhhish.
The wrapper’s presence in the air had drawn a shot. There was a zone—an area where the projectiles would be activated. Outside the zone you were safe.
But the gas was still hissing. Although I couldn’t see it, I could hear it. As I stepped closer to the wall, to the sound, my eyes began to blur.
There.
I blinked. In a seam between stones, I could see a hole. A dime-sized blackness. I dropped to my knees, avoiding the direct path of the gas trail. And I reached into my mouth.
My fingers shook. I couldn’t make my thumb and index finger meet. With my tongue, I thrust the chewed gum to the edge of my teeth.
It fell to the floor.
Steady.
I could see the lump. In fact, I could see two. Three.
My vision was doubling and tripling, and I blinked hard as I reached down. I tried to grab the wet wad but missed, poking it with my index finger.
As I lifted my arm, the gum rose, too, stuck to the pad of my finger.
I fell forward—eyes focused on the hole, finger extended with a feeble burst of energy.
And I went unconscious.
“Jack!”
Aly’s voice stirred me from a dreamless sleep. “Whaaaa—?”
I felt as if my head had been split open with a cast-iron skillet. I sat up, rubbing my head.
“Get down, Jack—you’ll be shot at!” Cass screamed.
I ducked. I caught my breath.
To my astonishment, I realized I had breath. The tiny, poisonous stream that was closing my windpipe was gone.
Glancing at the wall, I saw the tiny clump of gum, stuck in the hole. And I no longer heard the hissing of gas.
“That was amazing, Jack,” Aly said.
“Thanks,” I replied, gathering my thoughts, “Okay, I’m thinking this room has some kind of sensor—some primitive form of electric eye, without the electricity. When we were in one area, it shot at us. In other, we tripped the gas. In each zone, a different trap. All, unfortunately, invisible.”
“And we’re in the cage district,” Cass said.
Marco knelt and began shaking the invisible bars. “We have to lift this thing,” he said. “On the count of three! One . . .”
Aly and Cass struggled to their feet. Cass was still coughing.
In the light of the torch, which was still resting on the ground outside the door, the back wall was a long wash of dull yellow. But off to the right, I saw a door opening. In a small rectangle of moonlight, I caught a quick glimpse of what seemed to be a wooden cottage just beyond the Hanging Gardens. But that was quickly blotted out by the silhouette of a cloaked man, filling the doorframe.
“Two . . .” Marco said.
A face peered out of the cloak’s hood. From here I couldn’t make out any features, just a pale white oval.
“M-M-Marco . . . ?” Cass said, staring at the apparition.
“Thrrrreeee!” Marco shouted. “That means lift!”
Snapping out of our fearful trance, we all crouched down. The bars might not be visible, but they felt as solid as iron. I quickly dug my fingers along the bottom, to where the cagelike structure met the ground. Crouching, I pulled from my side, they from theirs.
The cage was massively heavy. We raised it maybe two inches.
The apparition moved closer. One eye penetrated the gloom like a flashlight beam—no pupil of any color, just a disk of dull greenish-white. Where his other eye should have been was instead a dark socket. His legs were the shape of parentheses, and his feet dragged across the ground as if he couldn’t lift them. A cape hung loosely over his shoulders, which were thin as bamboo.
Aly, Cass, and I stared, stiff with fear.
“I think,” Aly said, “this is Kranag.”