I'm not going to let myself go fast, Kendra said.
Good idea, Warren said. And, for the record, don't try to grab a second rod. It felt like I'd been struck by lightning.
Holding the rod, Kendra followed Warren around the394 catwalk. She kept the black tip pointed straight up, notwanting to risk drifting up to the spikes. When they reached the alcove, she saw that there were nine other rods, each resting in a hole, black tip up.
What do you say we make sure we can't be followed,
Warren said, grabbing a rod and tossing it off the edge of the catwalk. Instead of falling, the rod floated back to the same hole from which Warren had removed it. He picked up the rod again. When he let go of it, the rod again returned itself to the hole.
We better hold tight to these, or we'll end up stranded down there, Kendra said.
Warren nodded, removing a rod for himself. He turned it so the black tip was only slightly upwards and stepped off the edge, falling gently, again making Kendra think of astronauts.
Kendra tipped the rod slowly, marveling as she felt the pull of gravity diminishing, even without moving. The sensation was strange; it reminded her of being underwater.
Tilting the rod so the black tip was slightly downward, she floated up, her feet leaving the catwalk. Tipping the rod the other way a tad, she drifted back down.
Now that she trusted the rod, Kendra stepped off the edge of the catwalk and began a mild freefall. The sensation was incredible. She had dreamed of going into space in order to experience zero gravity, and here she was, in an under-ground tower, sampling something much like it. The dizzying drop beneath her feet was no longer very intimidating, now that she could control gravity with a twist of her wrist.395 Warren rose to meet her. Experiment with the rod, hesaid. Nothing too drastic, but get a feel for how to rise and fall and stop yourself. There's a knack to it. I have a feeling it will come in handy before we finish here.
Suddenly Warren shot downward. Kendra watched him slow to a stop. I thought you said nothing too drastic, she called to him.
He rocketed upwards, drawing even with her again. I
meant for you, he said before plunging away below her.
Little by little, Kendra tilted the black tip up higher, incrementally increasing the rate of her descent. She abruptly tipped the rod in the other direction, and her descent slowed with a feeling like she was connected to an elastic band. Making the rod parallel with the ground, she brought herself to a standstill about halfway to the floor.
Kendra glanced up at the distant spikes in the ceiling.
She tilted the black tip all the way down, and with a sudden rush of acceleration she was shooting up toward the iron stalactites.
The sensation was disorienting, exactly like falling headfirst toward the ground, and the spikes came rapidly nearer. In a panic she whipped the rod the other way. The elastic feeling was much stronger this time, although it took long enough to slow that she got much nearer to the spikes than she liked. Before she knew it she was careening toward the floor of the tall chamber. Her body began rotating, and she lost some sense of which way she needed to turn the rod to slow her fall. She overcorrected several times before gaining control, whipping herself up and down erratically.
When she finally leveled out, Kendra was two-thirds of396 the way to the floor, hovering near the wall. She kicked offgently.
And I thought I was a daredevil, Warren called.
That was a little more daring than I intended, Kendra admitted, trying not to sound as shaken as she felt. She experimented more with rising and falling, growing accustomed to easing herself to a stop and to keeping her body properly oriented. At last she landed softly on the floor next to Warren and normalized the gravity by holding her rod black-end up.
The room was bare except for a pedestal at the center.
The floor was polished, seamless stone. Atop the pedestal sat a life-sized likeness of a black cat, made of colored glass.
Is that the artifact? Kendra asked.
My guess is we're looking at the vault, Warren said.
Do we smash it? Kendra asked.
That might be a start, Warren said.
How are you feeling? Kendra asked.
Chapter Eighteen
Stabbed, he said. But functional. Things could turn ugly fast. If it comes to it, you may want to fly up to the catwalk and hope for mercy from the narcoblix. But don't try to exit the tower. I was very serious about the traps set to prevent anyone from exiting prematurely.
Right, Kendra said. I won't ditch you.
Warren tipped the rod somewhat and jumped, soaring over Kendra's head and landing gently behind her, wincing slightly and clutching his side. See, you can also simply reduce gravity to your advantage. Could come in handy.397 Kendra tilted the rod, feeling herself lightening, andtook a leap, gliding in a long, lazy parabola. Gotcha.
You ready? Warren said.
What's going to happen? Kendra said.
I'll smash the cat and we'll see.
What if the roof comes down on us? she asked.
Warren gazed up at the distant ceiling. That would be bad. Let's hope the spikes are just meant to impale people who are clumsy with their gravity sticks.
You think there may be something scary inside the cat?
Kendra asked.
Seems like a safe bet. We better hurry. Who knows how long before the narcoblix shows up? You ready? Glove on?
Kendra pulled on the glove and turned invisible. Okay.
Warren prodded the cat with the sharp end of the key.
The tip of the spearhead clinked loudly, but the figurine did not crack. He jabbed it a few times. Clink, clink, clink. I'm not sure we're meant to break it, he said. Moving close,
Warren touched the cat with his finger and then skipped away, key ready.
The glass cat shimmered and became a real cat, mewing softly. It had a tiny key around its neck.
Kendra felt some of the tension leave her. Is this some kind of joke? she asked.
If so, I don't think we've seen the punch line yet.
Maybe it has rabies, Kendra said.
Tentatively, Warren approached the black cat. It hopped down from the pedestal and slunk toward him. Nothing indicated that the feline was anything other than a scrawny398 domestic cat. Crouching, Warren let the animal lick hishand. He stroked the cat softly, and then untied the ribbon that held the key. Instantly the cat hissed and swiped a paw at him. Warren stood and backed away, puzzling over the key. The cat arched its back and showed its teeth.
It turned mean, Kendra said.
It is mean, Warren corrected. This is certainly no mere housecat. We have not yet seen the true form of our adversary.
The feral cat spat and hissed.
Warren began investigating the big key. He rolled it, examining it from end to end. Ah-ha! he said, inserting the tiny key into a hole just below the spearhead. When he turned the miniscule key, the handle at the opposite end of the big key detached and clattered to the ground.