Secret of the Underground Room Page 7

  Johnny wished that he had an answer, but he didn't. He just sat silently poring over the book until the steam whistle blew, and he looked up to see the isle of Lundy rising before him. From reading National Geographic Johnny knew it was oblong, and they could see it was covered with tall crags and shelves of rock. Above the crags seemed to be a grassy plain, and at one end of the island the ruins of a castle could be seen. The boat glided into Lundy's only harbor. Here, nestled under the dark, looming rocks, were a few houses and a small stone church. The island looked desolate and forbidding, even in bright sunshine, and the boys felt a tightening in their stomachs as the steamer came alongside the stone pier. Silently they trudged down the gangplank, and after asking for directions, they made their way to the island's only inn. It was a plain two-story stone house, and when Fergie and Johnny walked in the front door, the innkeeper seemed very surprised to see them. He was a ruddy-faced man with wildly sprouting side whiskers, and he wore a turtleneck sweater and worn corduroy trousers.

  "Greetings, lads!" he said with a grin. "Are you visiting relatives?"

  Quickly Johnny made up a story. "I... we came out to see the island," he began. "Our folks didn't want to come, so we just took the trip ourselves."

  The innkeeper's grin got wider. "You Yanks are pretty independent, aren't you? Well, welcome to Lundy, isle of puffins and former lair of the piratical De Marisco family. You wouldn't by chance be wanting a room for the night, would you?"

  Johnny and Fergie were delighted. They had thought that they would have to camp out in the open, and if it rained, they'd get soaked. Quickly Johnny pulled out his wallet and handed over the money for a double room. After they put their bags behind the counter, the innkeeper led the boys to the breakfast room, where they sat down and ate.

  "Well, John baby, we made it this far," said Fergie with a confident smile. "Now if we can just stay out of the way of Filthy J. Nasty, all will be well."

  "Yeah," said Johnny, glancing nervously around the room. "There's another boat that's supposed to arrive at noon. I'll bet you he'll be on it."

  "You're probably right," said Fergie as he buttered a muffin. "I wouldn't give two cents for our chances if we run into him, and you know he'll probably stay at this hotel. Maybe we better stick our bags in the room and go poke around on the island. I wanta see if we can find that underground room."

  Johnny glanced nervously toward the door. "What if he's waiting for us when we come back? What'll we do?"

  Fergie shrugged and tried to look brave. "We'll think of something," he said. Then he added sarcastically, "Anyways, you have that wonderful magic amulet that you wear around your neck. Don't forget about that."

  Johnny frowned. He knew that Fergie didn't believe in the powers of the silver crucifix, and this bothered him. It was reassuring, however, to be reminded of its existence, and he patted his shirt front to make sure it was still there.

  After breakfast the boys went out to explore Lundy. They struggled up a steep rocky path that led to the grassy plain on top of the island. After resting a bit, they wandered around for a while, peering down at the dark shelves of rock. Johnny remembered a lot from the National Geographic article about Lundy, and he searched for some of the curious rock formations that are scattered about the island. At the edge of a cliff he discovered the Logan Stone, which is shaped like a child's top. At one time it had balanced perfectly on its pointed tip, but a tourist had rocked it with a crowbar, and now it lay propped against the granite wall of the cliff. After they had inspected the stone, Fergie wanted to look at the ruins of the castle. Soon they were walking inside the tall, ragged walls of the fortress that had once protected the De Marisco pirates. In one corner of the ruins they found the entrance to a roofless chapel. Johnny gasped.

  "Oh my gosh!" he cried, pointing. "Look, Fergie!"

  At first Fergie did not understand what Johnny was so worked up about. But then he moved closer, and he could see it too. Stone heads were carved on the arched doorway. They had once been meant to look like saints and kings and queens, but centuries of wind and rain had worn the carved faces till they were featureless.

  "This is the church of the faceless images!" Johnny whispered in an awestruck tone. "It has to be! Come on, let's go inside."

  They marched through the doorless arch. Crumbling walls rose on both sides, and empty pointed windows stared down at them. Grass grew in cracks between the stones of the floor. At the far end of the little church a mossy altar table still stood. Johnny began to feel very creepy and nervous. If their guesses were right, they were walking on top of the underground room where the evil knights were buried. Johnny imagined ghostly forms in tattered garments rising up through the floor of the chapel, and he shivered.

  Fergie glanced at Johnny quickly. "What's the matter?" he asked. "You thinkin' about those knights Humphrey told us about?"

  Johnny nodded.

  "Well, don't worry for now," Fergie muttered. "They can't do anything in the daylight. Anyway, that's the way it always works in vampire movies."

  Johnny looked doubtful. Knights didn't have to follow the rules of movie vampires. Uneasily, he peered around at the broken arches and empty, staring windows. This was the place—it had to be. And Masterman would be coming soon to set his fellow creatures free. It was up to good old Johnny Dixon and his pal Fergie to stop the evil sorcerer.

  Johnny felt very depressed. How could they possibly do anything to hurt Masterman? But then he set his jaw and tried to feel powerful. Humphrey, the professor, and Father Higgins had all been imprisoned by Master-man's evil magic. Somehow he and Fergie would have to find a way to set them free.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Fergie and Johnny began studying the floor. The stone slabs were square and had been fitted together without mortar or cement. Fergie knelt down and found that moss grew in only some of the spaces between the stones. Other stones were fitted so tightly together that he was unable to slip the blade of his knife into the cracks.

  "I wish I had brought that tire iron with me," Fergie muttered as he pulled himself to his feet. "We could use it to pound on the stones to find out where that room is."

  "If there is a room," Johnny added quietly. The longer he hung around this place, the more doubtful he became. He had been scared at first, but his fear had melted away, and now all sorts of questions came crowding into his mind: Humphrey's tale of the underground room was just a legend, and legends weren't always true. What if Masterman wasn't coming out to Lundy at all? What if he had just snatched away their friends to show how powerful he was? Maybe there weren't any knights— maybe those ghostly faces had been conjured up by the evil Masterman. If that were true, then he and Fergie were out here on a wild goose chase, and Masterman was free to do anything.... But what happened when he got tired of using Father Higgins's body and decided to kill the priest? When he decided to send the professor and Humphrey into the black void, where they would be forever? A cold wind began to blow into the chapel through the empty arches, and Johnny trembled.

  Fergie stomped on some of the stones, but none sounded hollow. Dejectedly, the two boys made their way out of the chapel and down the rocky path that led to the little village. They both were hungry, and they ate lunch at the inn. Afterward they returned to the chapel, but the professor's tire iron didn't produce any hollow sounds either. Feeling tired and glum, they sat cross-legged on the grass and watched the sea and the birds, and soon fell asleep with the yelping of sea gulls ringing in their ears. When they woke up, it was four in the afternoon, so the two of them went back to their hotel room and played chess for a while. The strain of waiting for Masterman was beginning to get to them. Every time they heard the hooting of a steam whistle, they rushed to the window to see who was getting off the ferry. Dinnertime came, and the boys ordered roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Then they decided to take a stroll around the island, which by now was becoming very familiar to them.

  "If I lived here all the time, I think I would go out of my ever-lo
ving mind," said Fergie as they clambered down the rocky path once again. "They don't even have television sets! What do you think they do in the winter? Catch up on their sleep?"

  "Oh, dry up, Fergie!" grumbled Johnny. "I'm just as tired of this place as you are. Tomorrow we'll go back to that fishing-port town and see if we can figure out how to get home. We have about two thousand dollars of the professor's money, and our airplane tickets and passports, that ought to get us back."

  Johnny hung his head. He felt weary and discouraged, and he wished very much that he was back in his grandparents' house in Duston Heights and that he had never heard of magic pieces of stained glass, entombed knights, or the isle of Lundy. He thought of the professor... Father Higgins... Humphrey... and his thoughts turned to despair. Someday he hoped he'd recover from this awful trip, but it would take a long time. A very long time.

  The boys spent part of the evening walking on top of the crags. Then a storm came sweeping in, amid rumblings of thunder and lightning flashes. Fergie and Johnny hid under a rock ledge while the rain poured down, and when the storm was over, they made their way back to the inn. After a late snack and some more chess, they went to bed. But around midnight Johnny was awakened by the sound of the steamboat's whistle. Groggily he jammed his glasses on and stumbled to the tiny window. The night sky was crowded with stars, and Johnny could hear the soft hushing sound of the waves. A ferryboat was tied up at the pier, and ghostly puffs of steam rose from its smokestack. A single shadowy figure stood on the dock. It looked like a tall man in a narrow-brimmed hat, with a briefcase in his hand. The man glanced around and then headed toward the path that led to the grassy plain above the town. His shape melted into the shadows and disappeared.

  Johnny shuddered and stepped back from the window. Panic was rising inside him—what on earth should he do? After a brief hesitation he ran to Fergie's bed and began to shake him violently.

  "Fergie! Fergie! Wake up!" Johnny gasped. "He's here! Masterman is here!"

  Woozily Fergie shook himself awake. He pulled his body into a sitting position and rubbed his hands over his face. "Wha... what is goin' on anyway?" he muttered thickly. "Where's the fire?"

  Johnny knelt by Fergie's bed and whispered excitedly into his ear. "Masterman is here! Wake up! For gosh sakes wake up!"

  Suddenly Fergie sat bolt upright. He shook his head to clear it. "He is? Well, we better get busy. Let's follow the creep an' see what he's up to!"

  Gently Johnny laid his hand on Fergie's shoulder. "Just a minute," he said. "Before we take off after him, we oughta protect ourselves."

  Fergie was mystified. "Protect? What the devil are you talking about?"

  "I mean the silver crucifix," cried Johnny. "The one with the pieces of the True Cross in it. If we both hang on to the crucifix, maybe Masterman won't know we're sneaking up on him. It's worth a try. What do you think?"

  Fergie decided that he did not want to tell Johnny what he thought. But he dragged himself out of bed and started putting his clothes on. In a few minutes the two of them were ready to go. Fergie slung his backpack on his shoulder, each one grabbed a flashlight, and they padded down the front staircase and out the front door. The boys passed a short row of dark houses, and then they began to climb the rocky path. They didn't dare turn on their flashlights yet, but the starlight showed the way. Up, up they went, past shelves of rock that seemed about to topple on them. Finally they reached the grassy plain. The gaunt ruins of the De Marisco castle rose, outlined against the night sky. As the boys walked softly along, they appeared to be holding hands— each one had a thumb and finger pressed to part of the silver crucifix. Johnny felt his stomach tighten into a knot of fear.

  "I wish I knew where Masterman is," he whispered, as he peered nervously from side to side. "What if he jumps us?"

  Fergie chuckled hoarsely. "You shoulda thought about that before, John baby," he whispered. "Just wave this silver gizmo at him an' he'll go away. There's nothing to worry about—we'll just end up in the X-dimension for the next thousand years."

  Johnny said nothing. The grass whipped around their pant legs as they walked. They entered the castle as quietly as they could. Still clinging to the crucifix, they sidled along one wall and crept, ever so slowly, toward the entrance of the chapel. When he got to the archway, Johnny took a deep breath and peered in. At the far end of the chapel a yellowish light flickered. An old-fashioned glass lantern with a lit candle stood on the altar. By its glow the boys could see Dr. Masterman standing behind the altar with his hands folded in front of his face. He seemed to be saying a prayer. Then, with an unearthly grin, he raised his arms above his head and began to sink, straight down. His head disappeared behind the altar and was gone.

  For several seconds Johnny and Fergie were silent. Then slowly they began to creep forward. Johnny could feel cold beads of sweat on his forehead, and he heard his friend breathing hard beside him. They walked around the right side of the altar and then paused. Fergie let go of the crucifix. With his left hand he reached behind him and pulled the tire iron from his backpack. Then he flicked on the flashlight in his right hand. The large square stones behind the altar looked absolutely untouched.

  "I sure get the stupid prize!" grumbled Fergie. "I never tested these stones. Let's see...." Cautiously he reached forward and thumped the tire iron on the granite slabs. A hollow sound arose.

  "Hah!" yelled Fergie, and in an instant he was on his knees, prying at the slab with the chisel-shaped end of the tire iron. It was hard work, and Fergie grunted as he put his weight on the iron bar. Dust rose, and finally the slab began to move. Johnny was beside Fergie, pulling at the stone with his hands. The slab rose higher. It was about an inch thick, and when Johnny got his hands under one side of it, the work went faster. With a mighty effort the boys heaved the stone all the way up, and it landed with a dull clunk on the chapel floor. Fergie shone his flashlight into the opening, and the boys saw a flight of worn stone steps leading down.

  For quite a long while the boys knelt there, staring into the blackness. By now Masterman surely knew that they were there. What was he doing? Neither boy wanted to go down into that black hole, but somebody had to if Father Higgins was to be saved. Suddenly Johnny stood up. He put the chain of the crucifix around his neck and gripped his flashlight. "I'll go," he announced bravely, and he started down the steps. Fergie was so stunned that he just knelt there, openmouthed, and watched his friend plunge into the opening. Then he jumped up and cried, "I'm with you, John baby!" Setting his jaw grimly, Fergie started down the stairs after his friend.

  A smell of mold and decay rose to the boys' nostrils, but they plodded on down the steep stairway. Cobwebs brushed their faces, but they waved them out of the way. Dampness clung to their bodies. The steps turned to the right and continued down, till Johnny and Fergie saw a doorway that was lit by a faint flickering glow. They walked on, with each step making them more frightened and more tense. At last they stood before the elaborately decorated arch. Monster heads and mysterious symbols were carved on it, and a grinning stone skull leered down from the top of the arch. With timid steps the boys shuffled closer, and when they stood at last in the doorway, they saw a fearful sight. A circular room lay before them, and around its walls ran one long stone bench. On the bench sat five mummies. Their eyes were empty holes, and their lipless mouths gaped. Each wore the tattered white costume of a monk. Some hoods were thrown back, while others were pulled close over withered, crumbling faces. But under the robes a tarnished glimmer showed that the mummies wore breastplates of steel, and each held a rusty sword in his right hand. In the center of the room stood a low stone table, and on it lay a burning candle and a half circle of green glass with a ragged, broken edge. Nearby stood the creature who called himself Rufus Masterman. The trembling, pale light hovered about his face. In his long bony hand he held another half circle of glass.

  When he saw the boys, Masterman smiled scornfully. He glanced at the silver chain and crucifix that hung around Johnny'
s neck, and he laughed.

  "Do you think that thing will protect you?" he snarled. "It would not prolong your life for a second, if I chose to kill you." And with that, Masterman stretched out his left hand. There was a snapping sound, and the crucifix broke from the chain and fell to the floor. Fear filled the hearts of the boys. What would happen to them now?

  "You see?" Masterman said with an evil leer. "Holy trinkets are not much good against the knights who worship the Prince of the Air. He is the master of the still stars and flaming door, and tonight his faithful servants will rise from their long sleep. I will decide what to do with you two when I have finished my task. Maybe you will live in terrible insanity for the rest of your lives. Or maybe you will be buried alive here in this room, and turn to rotting skeletons. But all that will be decided presently. When I fit the two halves of the Great Circle together, I will undo the work of a pack of foul meddling fools. And the dead will live again."

  Masterman closed his eyes and made a sign in the air. His face began to waver and shimmer, and the boys no longer saw the long, horsy face of the old clergyman. Instead they saw a hollow-eyed, haggard, cruel-looking man with long, dirty, yellow hair and a straggling blond beard. The man began to speak in Latin, and it was clear he was reciting a prayer or incantation of some sort. Stiff and still, the boys watched as he stepped forward with the piece of glass in his left hand. He bent to fit the two pieces together—but what was this? His hand shook and jerked back. Again he tried, and again the hand twitched away. With an angry roar, the man reached out with his other hand to stop the uncontrollable shaking of his left arm. He seemed calm again, but just as he was bending over the stone table again, he suddenly fell to his knees. As Johnny and Fergie watched in amazement, the man raised his arm and brought the piece of green glass smashing down hard on the stone table. The glass shattered into a thousand glittering pieces, and at that moment something incredible happened: With a dry, rustling sound the five mummies rose to their feet. They raised their rusty swords above their heads, and with a horrible unearthly screech they rushed at the figure who knelt by the table, a figure that now looked like Father Higgins! With a frantic lunge Father Higgins grabbed the other piece of glass and smashed it too. Instantly, the mummies collapsed to the floor.