“The heart of my lair,” Mr. Stott explained. “The most protected space. Magically, it’s cut off from the rest of the universe. He may have to stay put for a while.”
“Jonas White shouldn’t be able to reach him there,” Lindy added. “Even the simulacrum shouldn’t work.”
“Shouldn’t or can’t?” Nate checked.
Mr. Stott rubbed the side of his beard. “It would require a massive amount of skill and energy to overwhelm the barriers that protect my sanctum, but it is possible.”
“Can we see him?” Summer asked.
“Sure,” Mr. Stott said. He led them down a short hall to a modest room. Trevor sat on the edge of a futon.
“Hey, guys,” Trevor said, brightening as Nate and Summer entered. “You’re up late.”
“How long have you been here?” Summer asked.
Trevor glanced over at a clock. “About four hours.”
“You got here quickly,” Summer said. “You ran?”
“Part of the way,” Trevor said. “Not a lot. I took it easy at first. I needed some time to recover from pushing too hard back at the trailer park. Once I was feeling good, I used my speed to sneak into the back of a pickup truck.”
“Couldn’t you have just run the whole way?” Nate asked.
“In theory, I guess,” Trevor said. “But even though to you guys I go super fast, to me I’m still moving at my normal speed. A long run is still tiring and boring. We must have been at least thirty miles from here. That’s a long way to jog.”
“So you used your speed to secretly hitch rides,” Summer said.
“Pretty much,” Trevor said. “Then I bailed when the cars went the wrong way. If I use my top speed, I’m faster than cars on the freeway. But I can only keep it up in short bursts, or it wipes me out.”
“He took a risk,” Mr. Stott said. “Until Trevor reached this sanctum, Jonas might have used the simulacrum to harm him at any time. Apparently Jonas didn’t figure out that Trevor was on the run until after he found sanctuary here.”
“So now he has to stay?” Nate asked.
“Or he risks magical retaliation,” Mr. Stott said. “To exit this sanctum would leave him exposed.”
“I’m worried that I’ll get the rest of you in trouble,” Trevor said. “If they track me here, it’ll mean problems for Mr. Stott. And Jonas knows I was involved with Nate, Lindy, and Summer. He’ll be watching all of us more carefully.”
“It’s a risk I’m happy to take,” Mr. Stott said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Nate said. “I’d much rather take a little more heat than have you vanish like Pigeon.”
“I worry about Pigeon too,” Trevor said with frustration. “If I had let myself get caught, maybe I could have found him and helped him.”
“More likely you’d just be in the same trouble as him,” Lindy said.
“I’m worried about how far Jonas is getting in this search for Uweya,” Summer said. “I helped take a map from a family that has guarded it for a long time. They seemed really worried about what would happen if Jonas found Uweya.”
“I haven’t been able to learn much about Uweya,” Mr. Stott said. “I’ve consulted all of my usual resources, but there is almost no information about what it does or how it can be found. Jonas must have gone to great lengths to learn anything about it.”
“I felt bad about taking the Gate from the Hermit,” Nate said. “If all of this adds up to Jonas getting Uweya, I think we’re doomed.”
“What’s your next mission?” Mr. Stott asked.
“Probably to get the Protector,” Summer said. “The map we got will supposedly lead us to it.”
“What is the Protector?” Mr. Stott inquired.
“I don’t really know,” Summer said.
“They’ll tell us more when we get the mission,” Nate guessed.
“Only two clubs left,” Mr. Stott mused. “That would lead me to assume you are approaching the end of the treasure hunt.”
“It feels that way,” Summer said. “As far as we know, the next challenge after getting the Protector could be to find Uweya.”
“Or you might just be gathering the tools Jonas needs,” Mr. Stott speculated. “He may not involve the clubs in retrieving the actual prize.”
“We need to start fighting back before it’s too late,” Nate said. “But how? With those wax statues, Jonas can take us down whenever he wants!”
“Watch for opportunities,” Mr. Stott advised. “I’m working on a project that might be of service. I just hope I can finish it in time.”
“New candy?” Nate said hopefully.
Mr. Stott nodded. “Something that might help you get around without Jonas using the simulacra against you.”
“Has the Flatman seen anything useful?” Nate wondered, referring to the mutant that Mr. Stott kept floating in a shallow aquarium of formaldehyde. The Flatman had offered some useful predictions back when they were dealing with Belinda White.
“He has been silent of late,” Mr. Stott said. “His activity has always been unpredictable. For now, your best bet is to keep playing along. I’ll keep working on my new treat. But stay vigilant! Remember the Battiatos if you need backup. We need to find John and Mozag. And, at all cost, we need to keep Jonas White from obtaining Uweya.”
*****
Pigeon leapt to his feet when his cell door opened. Cleon looked in, wearing a red vest over a white shirt. “You want that shower?”
Pigeon had not yet left his cell. Living underground without windows, he found it tricky to judge how much time had passed. He estimated it had been more than a day. Whenever a meal was brought he asked for a shower. Until now, his keepers had not acknowledged his requests.
“Really?” Pigeon asked.
Cleon hooked a thumb in the front pocket of his jeans. “Nobody likes a smelly kid.”
“Great,” Pigeon said, wishing he felt less flustered by the opportunity. He was no fan of Cleon, but it was refreshing to see a familiar face. Pigeon had no prior association with either of the men who had brought his meals. “Do I have to wear handcuffs?”
Cleon chuckled. “That won’t be necessary. Come on.”
Pigeon walked out of the cell. So far, anxiety had been the worst part of his incarceration. The cell stayed at a livable temperature, the cot was reasonably comfortable, and the food tasted all right. Nothing was great, but nothing was horrible.