Keys to the Demon Prison (Fablehaven #5)

Keys to the Demon Prison (Fablehaven #5) Page 41

"Our needs are simple," Berna said. "We principally care about the price you pay. We only aid those who are willing to prove how highly they value our assistance."

"Don't explain so much," Wilna snapped.

"He's so young," Berna said.

He remembered that the old sentinel had suggested they would each make a proposal. "Is there any other choice?" Seth asked.

"We can give you three trials," Wilna said ominously. "If you succeed and survive, we will grant your request."

"What are the trials?" Seth asked.

"You must agree in order to know," Wilna replied.

"The trials are rigged," Orna blurted. "Nobody ever survives. They're just for our entertainment."

"Orna!" Wilna shrieked.

"They are!" Orna protested.

"Orna, really," Berna chastised.

"I'd take trials over killing a friend," Seth said. "Any other offers?"

Wilna gave him a hard stare. "Did somebody tell you to expect multiple offers?"

"You'd know," Seth said.

Wilna scrunched her nose. "The sentinel. He should know better."

"The boy is disarming," Orna said.

"Enough out of you, sister!" Wilna spat, "This negotiation is on sandy ground. Seth, you do not get to pick and choose. Do you accept the bargain offered by Berna? Yes or no."

"No."

"Do you want the trials?"

"No."

Wilna nodded at Orna.

"What?" Orna asked, still hurt from being reprimanded. "Now I can speak? Are you sure?"

"Go ahead," Wilna said.

Orna cleared her throat. "In return for information on how to retrieve Vasilis, one year after you acquire the sword, you will return to us as our lifelong servant."

"Too generous," Berna scoffed.

"I like him," Orna said.

Seth considered the offer. Would a lifetime of slavery to these sorceresses be worth saving the world? Probably. But what if he could get a better deal?

"Can I make an offer?" Seth asked.

"We will hear a proposition from you only if you turn down Orna," Wilna said.

"Take the offer," Orna said. "You look too much like him to become maggot food."

Seth pondered. Even if he succeeded in recovering Vasilis, he would probably be killed when Zzyzx opened. The chances were that he would not live to carry out this sentence of servitude. Accepting the deal would guarantee access to the sword.

But what if he somehow survived the opening of Zzyzx? The goal was not to fail. Patton had dealt with the Singing Sisters without becoming their lifelong slave. He must have worked out his own bargains.

"I turn down the offer," Seth said, going with his deepest instincts.

Orna pouted.

Wilna glowered. "If you do not have a better alternative, then we will have to terminate this interview."

"Let me get something straight," Seth said. "Part of the reason you're asking for so much from me is because Vasilis is so valuable."

"Yes," Berna said. "The worth of the prize influences the price."

"How would you like Vasilis?" Seth asked. "Is that your offer?" Wilna questioned. "I'm just curious," Seth said.

"It would be quite a trophy," Orna said, "but you want it much more than we do."

"No hints," Wilna hushed.

"It would cost me a lot to give up a powerful magic sword," Seth said. "That's part of the point, right?"

"Partly," Orna said.

Seth could tell that the sword alone would not be enough. He tried to think what else would be hard to give up. He tried to imagine what might please them. What could they use?

"An offer," Wilna stated flatly.

"Okay," Seth said, rubbing his hands. "Let's mix some ideas. Within a year after finding Vasilis, I will bring it here to you. And I'll bring you a wraith, to use however you like." Orna nodded, quietly urging him to offer more. "And, um, at your request, using the sword, I will serve as your champion, to retrieve whatever item you desire."

"What say you, sisters?" Orna asked briskly.

"This is Patton all over again," Berna muttered.

"The offer is meager," Wilna said. "He denied our proposals. Only one option remains. The boy must die."

"Yours is not the only voice here," Orna carped. "Being the pushiest does not make your opinion matter more. You demanded the death of our last petitioner. How entertaining was that? What say you, Berna?"

Seth held his breath as Berna studied him. "He makes a reasonable bargain," she assessed. "Three gifts: the sword, a wraith, and one of our choosing. Consider the possibilities."

"I am inclined to accept as well," Orna said. "Is it unanimous, sister, or shall we outvote you?"

"Very well," Wilna declared bitterly, casting a venomous glare at Orna. She turned to Seth. "We will accept your dubious proposition, upon one condition. You must not divulge the terms of our proposal to anyone, or share the particulars of our other offers."

"Agreed," Seth said.

"Gromlet," Wilna cried. "Bring us a covenant knife."

A stubby troll waddled over, an embroidered cushion in his hands. A sleek dagger with a black hilt rested on the cushion.

"Let the knife taste your blood," the three women sang in unison, eyes focused on the puddle.

Seth picked up the knife and pricked the side of his thumb. The blade was so keen that he hardly felt the incision, but when he pulled the knife away, blood oozed from the tiny slit.

"We vow to show you how to find Vasilis," the sisters chanted in an eerie harmony. "Knife in hand, make your vow!"

Seth kept hold of the knife. "I promise to bring you Vasilis within a year after I find it, to bring you a wraith bound to serve you, and to retrieve an additional item for you upon your request."

"Once we perform our obligation, you will be bound," the women sang. "If you fail to perform your duties, or if you divulge the particulars of our arrangement, this knife will take your life. So be it."

The women relaxed, seeming to awaken from a trance. Seth replaced the knife on the cushion, and the top-heavy little troll toddled away, overlarge head tilting from side to side.

"What now?" Seth asked.

"You'll see," Orna answered.

"Concentrate," Wilna commanded.

The conjoined sisters raised their inseparable arms above their heads and began to hum. At first they held a single note in unison, but soon the humming became a tangle of discordant harmonies. The humming grew to singing, although Seth comprehended none of the words. The harmonies became beautiful for certain stretches, but most of the time the chords they sang were unsettling.

The puddle at the center of their attention started to glow, and the maggot inside began to writhe. Droplets splashed as the maggot thrashed with increasing vigor. The singing grew more urgent. During a long, minor chord, the maggot burst. An inky cloud of deep purple roiled in the luminous puddle. The light in the puddle began to pulse unevenly. Amid the agitation, Seth glimpsed a ravine and several emaciated faces.

The sisters finished their song abruptly, and the puddle went dark, the water almost black. Berna began to cough violently, and the other sisters were breathing raggedly.

"We should have called for a steeper price," Orna wheezed, drool seeping from the corner of her mouth.

Wilna scowled, blood leaking from one nostril. "Had you forgotten what it required to seize such guarded knowledge?"

"It has been so long," Orna apologized.

"Quit wasting words," Berna panted. "The bargain is made." Her eyes had become badly bloodshot.

"Seth Sorenson," Wilna intoned. "You will find Vasilis behind the legendary Totem Wall."

"What's the Totem Wall?" Seth asked.

"The Wall serves an oracular purpose similar to ours," Orna said. "We never knew it also hid Vasilis."

"The Totem Wall awaits you in Canada," Wilna continued. "Our servants will produce a map of British Columbia."

"Tibbut!" Berna called.

A troll with a bulging forehead tottered forward. Berna closed her eyes, and he closed his. A moment later he bowed and hastened away.

"How do I get past the Totem Wall?" Seth asked.

"The Totem Wall demands sacrifices in exchange for favors," Berna said. "Everything depends on which totems you involve."

"The Wall can be more finicky than we are," Orna tittered. "Chance plays a major role."

"Without our help," Wilna corrected. "Insights gained through our vision can eliminate much of the chance. We will provide guidance. After all, it is in our interest to see you succeed."

"Unless we would rather watch you fail and die than collect on your promises," Berna mused.

"We have already expended much effort to view the way to Vasilis," Wilna asserted, jowls flapping. "We will impart what knowledge we can."

"The Totem Wall has many heads," Orna said.

"You will have to select four totems to treat with," Berna added.

Wilna stared at Seth purposefully. "In order to open the hidden door, speak with Anyu the Hunter, Tootega the Crone, Yuralria the Dancer, and Chu the Beaver."

"Addressing them by name should surprise them," Orna said.

Seth practiced the names.

"They will require an offering to open the hidden door," Wilna said. "Tell them you will eradicate the evil entombed within."

"Even if they doubt you," said Berna, "they may enjoy the sport of the attempt."

"What evil?" Seth asked.

"Only you will be permitted to pass through the door," Wilna said. "You are uniquely suited to accomplish the task. Beyond the door is a room full of the Standing Dead. Only one without fear may pass. If they sense fear, they will seize you, and you will join them."

"In the chamber of the sword awaits a greater threat," Berna murmured.

"An entity of terrible power," Wilna agreed solemnly. "You must slay that entity to gain Vasilis. Therefore, your promise to the Wall will not increase your burden. Those particular totems should accept the offer."

"So much depends on what heads you address for any given issue," Orna said. "We really are removing most of the guesswork."

"What if the totems deny my offer?" Seth asked. "Then it will be time to improvise," Berna said. "Tibbut! The map!"

The troll hustled over to Seth, a scroll in his hand. Seth accepted the rolled parchment. "He just drew this?" Seth asked. "Tibbut works fast," Orna said. "Do you have any other advice to share?" Seth asked. "None," Wilna said.

"Hold true to your end of the bargain," Orna advised.

"I would never lie to a magical knife," Seth said. "Thanks." The short trolls escorted Seth back the way he had entered. The river troll awaited at the foot of the carved stairs. "You survived," the brawny troll said. "For now," Seth replied.

"You did better than most," the troll approved, leading the way up the serpentine steps.

At the top, the troll opened the door, and Seth stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight. The troll closed the door unceremoniously behind him.

"Told you," Doren trumpeted. He gave Newel a shove. "You owe me five gold coins!"

"You bet against me?" Seth asked Newel.

"We were bored," Newel apologized.

"He wouldn't let me join in," Vanessa said, "or he would have lost another ten."

"With your record, I didn't expect to win," Newel explained. "I figured I could get five coins back from Doren without much trouble."

"We'll see about that," Doren huffed.

Newel folded his arms. "How about, double or nothing, we see who can eat the most tacos at dinner?"

"No way," Doren said. "I've learned never to bet against your stomach."

"I'll take on all three of you," Newel challenged.

Doren paused. "Maybe. Assuming we go someplace with tacos."

"I see you have a scroll," Vanessa said.

"It's a map to a place called the Totem Wall," Seth said.

"The Totem Wall?" Vanessa exclaimed. "Couldn't the Sisters see the location of the sword?"

"They saw it," Seth said. "The sword is hidden behind the Totem Wall. They gave us a map that should lead us there, and advice on how I can get inside." He handed the scroll to Vanessa.

"What did you have to do?" Newel wondered.

"They made me promise not to tell," Seth said.

"I just hope you didn't promise to assassinate a couple of handsome satyrs," Newel said.

"I don't have to kill anybody," Seth said. "I think I can say that much."

Vanessa studied the map. "The road trip continues. We should get under way."

They returned to the raft to find the old sentinel leaning on his pole. While the others boarded the raft, the shirtless old man pulled Seth aside.

"I know you can't say too much," the old man said. "But you made it back alive. I don't need to know particulars. Did they make more than three offers?"

"No."

"Did you make more than one?"

"No. I think they could tell you coached me."