Chapter 3

I walked into a scene that I would have found incredibly satisfying in another circumstance. J.P. was on the ground with the Prince's foot pushing down hard on his chest.  

“Your friend has very poor manners,” said the Prince. 

     “Yeah, he does,” I said, “and he’s not my friend. Feel free to throw him back.”

     “Not your friend? Why then, is he here? Did you hire him to get your parents back? If so, you have wasted your money. He’s clumsy and foolish with his attacks. I defeated him easily and could do so again,” the Prince boasted. 

     “He followed me. That's all. I don't want him here,” I said. 

     “Well, that’s a problem for you then, isn’t it. He came with you. He stays with you,” the Prince said. And before I could argue, Mr. Fisher appeared in the room next to me.

     He looked around the room quickly, his eyes wide with surprise and confusion. Of course, when you expect to find yourself in an antique store and instead find yourself on another planet, well, it’s surprising, that's all. And this was no ordinary room. Even though we were near one corner, the vastness of the space was obvious from the towering height of the ceiling to the way our voices seemed to vanish in the distance. Just as before, shadows danced along the walls, alternately hiding and exposing gigantic tapestries that showed battles filled with strange creatures that looked vaguely familiar, but had too many or too few things, like legs or heads. Turning to me, Mr. Fisher asked, “Tom, what is this place and what’s going on? That door seemed to just disappear . . .”

     “I didn’t mean for you to be here. And I don't really know how to answer your questions,” I replied.  

     “Did you bring anyone with you that you do want to be here?” the Prince asked with a sneer.  

     “Holy . . .”

     “Yes, you said that already,” said Mr. Fisher, stopping Jack, who had just appeared with Brian, from finishing his exclamation again. 

     “Actually, you interrupted me both times,” Jack noted. 

     “And I will do it again, I'm sure.” 

     The Prince cleared his throat loudly. His foot was still pressed against J.P.’s chest, which was the only thing that didn’t bother me about this situation. “Earth-boy, can I assume that you actually want these two to be here?”

     “That was the plan.”

     “In that case, welcome to Chosroes.  I am . . .” The Prince went on to tell them exactly who he was. I’d heard it all before.

     “Are we really on another planet?” asked Brian. 

     “Yes, you are really on another planet,” the Prince mimicked. 

    “How'd we get here, then?”

     “Through an unused door at a rundown antique store, I believe. Or were you asking a more scientific question?” the Prince asked with mock sincerity. 

     Undeterred by the Prince’s tone, Brian said, “What I was asking was how we got to another planet in a couple of seconds when everyone knows you can’t go faster than the speed of light?”

     “Everyone knows you can’t go faster than the speed of the light,” the Prince muttered under his breath. “Well, were you on a rocket ship that sped up until it was going faster than light?”

     “No,” Brian said. 

     “Then you didn’t go faster than light, did you? In fact, you didn't go at all. You were on one side of a door on Earth and here on Chosroes a second later. It’s as though two points in space were placed next to each other and you moved from one to the other.”

     “Why don’t you just admit you don’t know how it works either,” a new voice interrupted. A girl walked into the room from a side door I hadn’t noticed before. She looked to be about the same age as the Prince, but where his eyes made him utterly alien, her eyes seemed perfect. She was only slightly shorter than the Prince with straight long black hair that hung loosely down her back. She was beautiful. 

     The Prince was clearly not pleased to see her. “This is none of your business. How did you even know I was here?”

     “None of my business? I am not going to sit back and watch you kill another bunch of Earth people for your amusement. Do you understand me, brother?” She used the word brother like it was a curse.

     “Wait a minute,” Jack stepped forward. “Wait just a minute. Killing Earth people for . . .” Jack stopped talking mid-sentence and stared over my shoulder. I knew right away what had happened. Through a trick of light, the dancing shadows had parted enough to finally reveal the cage holding my parents. With the exception of the Prince and his foot rest, J.P., we all rushed closer to get a better look. 

“That’s close enough,” yelled the Prince, though we’d taken no more than ten steps. My parents didn’t seem to notice us in the distance. I imagine being in a cage with a man eating monster can be distracting. 

     “What the H . . .” Jack started. 

     “. . .eck is going on?” Mr Fisher finished for him. 

     “Okay, seriously,” Jack said, turning on Mr. Fisher, “are you going to keep doing that? I mean if any situation maybe requires a few swear words, this would seem to be it.”

     Mr. Fisher smiled slightly, but did not take his eyes off of my parents. “Any new situation is like a puzzle you've never seen or solved. There’s an answer, but you just haven't found it yet. Swearing at it won’t help,” he said. 

     “Are you sure?” Jack asked. 

     “Pretty sure, yes,” Mr. Fisher replied. “But not a hundred percent.”

     “So, I'm supposed to look at Tom’s parents over there in that giant cage with a, a -- what is that thing, Princey-boy?”

     “A maggoricus,” the Prince said, clearly annoyed at Jack’s nickname. 

     “Yeah, a maggoricus! Of course.” Sarcasm is Jack’s usual go-to response in an argument. 

     “Oh, you did not,” the Princess said, staring hard at her brother.

     “Oh, yes I did,” said the Prince. 

     “Wherever did you find a maggoricus?” she asked, and I could tell she was impressed even if it galled her to show it. 

     “I came across it on a recent mission for Dad and thought it might be useful.”

     “Mission? What mission? Dad doesn't trust you to dress yourself properly,” she said, but immediately seemed to regret it.  The Prince’s face burned red. 

     “That's enough!” he screamed. “Stay out of my business, as I have of yours, so far.” The Princess went white at her brother’s last words. 

     “Guards, remove my guests until I am ready to deal with them further.” With those words, four large goons who looked like giant versions of the Prince ambled into the room, pointing long spears at us, guiding us even farther away from the cage that held my parents and toward a large door at the opposite end of the room. 

     “What about me?” J.P. said from under the Prince’s foot. 

     “What? Oh, yes. I'd forgotten. You make a fine foot rest. Run along and catch up with your friends,” the Prince said. 

     As we left the room, I could see the Princess pleading with her brother and I could see the look of satisfaction plain on his face. I thought it was impossible for me to hate him more, but just then, I did. 

The room they brought us to was nearly as vast as the one we had just left. The ceiling had to be fifty feet high. You could see right through it to the Chosroes night sky.  I’m not very good at recognizing constellations, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't find the Big Dipper there, even if I knew where to look. 

There was a fireplace at one end with what looked like full trees, or whatever the Chosroesian version of a tree is, for logs and a blaze that would need a firetruck to put out. A long table was placed about a hundred feet from the fire and at that distance you could still feel the heat. At the guards’ urging—with spears not words—we sat at the end farthest from the flames. The guards turned and left. We all watched them go and then they all looked at me. 

     “What?” “How could--” “Are you--”

     Everyone spoke at once, until Mr. Fisher slammed his hand down on the table, which resulted in a shocked silence. He cleared his throat a couple times before he said, “I cannot even begin to try to decipher what I have seen in the last thirty minutes. In fact, if I had not seen it all myself I am certain I would not believe any of it. But here we are. And claiming it's impossible will not change that.”

     “But it is impossible,” Brian said. 

     “And yet, we’re here.” Mr. Fisher smiled at Brian in the reassuring way he dealt with all of his students, then turned again to me. “Tom, perhaps you could tell us everything you can about how we ended up here and how we can get home.”

     “I already told Brian and Jack everything I know, which isn't much.”

     “Maybe you could tell us all, since this whole group now seems to be a part of the Prince’s plan, whatever it might be,” said Mr. Fisher. 

     “I’m not part of anything you losers are doing,” J.P. said. “You can play whatever lame games Tommy is making up. I’m out of here and you can't stop me.”

     “Where will you go?” Mr. Fisher asked calmly. 

     “There's got to be a door around this funhouse somewhere. Make him tell us where it is.” He pointed at me. 

     “You think this is a game?” I said. “Some kind of carnival ride? Then you actually are even dumber than you look.”

     J.P. got up and took a step toward me.  “I’ll smack you so hard, you’ll wish this was just a bad dream.”

     “Try it and you'll end up on your back again,” Jack said. “My foot on top, this time.”

     “Boys! Please. That's enough,” Mr. Fisher cut in. “J.P., be quiet. This is not a game. We're all scared . . .”

     “I'm not,” J.P. interrupted. 

     "Fine, everyone but you is scared and would like to better understand what's going on. Tom, you were about to explain." 

     “All I know is that I’m supposed to get something for the Prince and if I do, he’ll let my parents go. I don’t know where it is or why he wants it so badly,” I said.  

     “Why’d he pick you?” asked Brian.  

     “I don’t know.”  I didn’t want to mention the silly umbrella.

     “You don’t know much of anything, do you?” J.P. said. 

    Ignoring J.P., Mr. Fisher said, “Well then, I suppose there is nothing for us to do but wait until we have more information. Quite the interesting puzzle, though. Very challenging.”  

     “Yeah, but most of your puzzles don’t involve my parents getting eaten if you mess them up,” I pointed out. “Did you see that thing in there with them?”

     “Yes, well, there is that,” he said.  

     We sat in silence until Brian asked, “What is this place anyway? Who builds a gigantic room that could hold a thousand people and the only furniture is a table with seating for forty? What’s the point?”  

[To be continued . . .]