The Prince's Trap Page 30

  Landon pulled on some shoes and darted out of his room, slamming the door behind him. He felt unnerved; he wasn’t sure, but the dream felt so real. Something in his gut told him he had to tell her right away or it would be too late. He rushed up to the sixth floor, propelling himself up the stairwell with powerful heaves on the banister.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  He pounded on the door of Katie Leigh’s sixth-floor dorm room; the sound of his fist connecting with the wooden door echoed down the hall. “Katie! You in there?” he screamed. “Katie!” Landon’s feet tapped the floor eagerly as he waited for her to answer. None came. Landon laid into the door again.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  “Katie!”

  Again, there was no response.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  This time, in Landon’s growing impatience, he rapped on the door so hard, he felt the walls vibrate under his fist. Landon heard the click of a door being unlocked, but it wasn’t Katie Leigh’s in front of him. It came from somewhere to his right. It drew his attention, and Landon turned to see who it was. Peering out from his room three doors down, Sam Willards looked like a mole popping his head out of the dirt.

  “Hey, do you know where I can find Katie Leigh?” Landon called down to him.

  An instant later, the rest of Sam’s body joined him in the hallway as he slunk out from his room and shut his door behind him. “Well, well, well,” he said in his slick voice that seemed as slimy as his greased-back hair. “Landon Wicker.” He sauntered over to Landon and leaned his shoulder against the wall. His long, gangly arms looked awkward as he crossed them over his chest. “You cost a lot of people some valuable possessions when you lost to the now-notorious Celia Jackson, did you know?”

  Landon felt his patience waning. He didn’t know what it was about Sam Willards, but Landon found him so off-putting. “Sam, I really need to find Katie Leigh. Do you know where she is?”

  Sam drummed his knobby fingers against his chin as he looked up. “Hmmmm, where is Katie Leigh?” He spoke slow and pensively, dragging out the question as he appeared to think.

  “Sam, I really don’t have time for this. Do you know where Katie Leigh is or don’t you?” As his frustration built, Landon stood on the verge of walking away, not even caring to hear Sam’s response.

  He watched as Sam dropped the façade and looked at Landon dejectedly. “No,” he said with disappointment.

  Finally! Without another word, Landon turned and headed out of the dormitories. He left Sam alone to sulk back to his room.

  Landon took the stairs straight down to the Rec Center, thinking he might find Katie Leigh there. When he entered, he discovered the room abuzz with activity. People played video games on the large screens, others were engaged in heated foosball matches, and a crowd surrounded the billiards tables to watch an impromptu tele-pool eight ball tournament. The rules of the game were the same, but sticks were forbidden, and all the balls but the cue ball were coated in an ichorium-based compound so that the participants had to shoot the cue ball telekinetically to hit the others into the pockets. Landon had played it a few times, and he considered it exponentially more difficult than the normal way.

  “Landon,” Riley shouted cheerily as he spun around on the sofa in front of one of the video game monitors. After saying something to his friends on the couch, he sprung to his feet, threw the controller behind him into his seat, and casually walked over to him. “What are you doing here?” he leaned in and asked quietly, alluding to the fact that Landon would normally still be in training at this time.

  “Long story,” Landon explained. “I’ll tell you later, I promise. But I really need to find Katie Leigh.”

  Riley nervously studied him at hearing the seriousness in Landon’s voice. “I think she’s in the Library,” he answered with concern.

  “Thanks.” Landon patted Riley on the shoulder in appreciation before spinning around and rushing out of the Rec Center on his way to the Library.

  He quickly made his way to the Atrium—the fastest way to cut across the Gymnasium and get to the Library—and started around the massive oak tree growing in its center.

  “In a hurry?”

  Landon skidded to a stop and turned to face the source of the voice. Washington Sykes leaned nonchalantly against one of the giant pillars in the Atrium. Landon scoffed at the sight of him. There seemed to be no escaping him. Was he naïve to think his double life would end so easily without any residual effects? It became apparent he’d have to manage some loose ends beyond tying up his work with Katie Leigh.

  Washington pushed himself off the pillar and walked to Landon’s side. “So you and Celia Jackson finally put an end to your little romance?”

  Landon stared at him, perplexed. He must have seen Celia storm into the Gymnasium after their altercation in the valley. “You could say that,” Landon replied, deciding that what had happened outside was a breakup of sorts.

  Washington inspected him curiously before adding, “And what of these rumors I hear that you’ve quit the Pantheon? Are they true?”

  “Yes,” Landon answered evenly. He was anxious to get away from Washington and check on Katie Leigh.

  “It’s not that easy,” Washington said as his lips pulled back into a self-satisfied smile. “They don’t let people just quit the Pantheon.”

  Landon scanned Washington’s face, looking for some clue as to what he was implying. It was such a simple phrase, but the way he said it, . . . it sounded like he was saying Landon would be killed if he quit the Pantheon. It was a frightening thought. But he wondered if Washington was just toying with him. He’d do anything to elicit a reaction from Landon.

  “Well, as much as I love our talks, I really need to be going. I have people waiting for me.”

  Before Washington could respond, Landon quickened his step to build some distance between them.

  “And I’ll be watching,” Washington said under his breath as Landon turned the corner.

  As Landon continued toward the Library, Washington’s words replayed in his mind. Would they really kill me for leaving? he wondered. There has to be someone who’s left the Pantheon in all the years it’s existed and lived to tell about it.

  Landon worked his way up from the bottom floor of the Library. With bounding determination, he darted from aisle to aisle and section to section, hunting for Katie Leigh. After successfully covering the first two floors, navigating the complex network of shelves and alcoves, Landon wished he’d asked for a bit more information from Riley before leaving him in the Rec Center. Yet he knew he was getting close, he could feel it.

  He happened upon a girl perusing the Women’s Studies section and a group of guys lounging about and flipping through some old magazines, but when Landon asked, none of them knew of Katie Leigh’s whereabouts. Some of them didn’t even know who Katie Leigh was. Unlike Landon, who could usually be found in his special alcove of the Library just off the Literature section, Katie Leigh didn’t have any particular habits when it came to her reading. She flitted about as fast and frequent as her interests and curiosities. She could be anywhere.

  It took Landon much less time to check the Fiction section on the fifth floor. He was intimately familiar with every nook and cranny of that space. He knew every hideaway, every study table, every aisle and every chair. Where is she? With every empty row and silent room, Landon’s frustration and panic grew. Perhaps it really wasn’t a dream after all.

  Making his way up to the fourth floor to continue his search, Landon entered the spiral ramp, and just as he passed through the door, he accidentally collided with someone. Caught by surprise and trying to mitigate the damage of ramming directly into some poor, unsuspecting person, Landon rolled off of them and took the brunt of the force. He slammed into the hardwood flooring and rolled up to the banister. The slatted
railing was the only thing that stopped him from falling three stories.

  Wincing from a mild pain in his shoulder, Landon rose to his feet. He could feel eyes on him. Looking to the other doors that led into various sections of the Library, Landon caught the glances of a few students who were lured out by the sound of his tumble. He scanned their faces quickly, hoping one of them was Katie Leigh, but she hadn’t been called away by the racket.

  Sighing, he finally turned to the person into whom he’d crashed. Dr. Brighton stood with his arms crossed, eyebrows raised but not surprised in the least.

  “I was hoping to run into you, Landon,” he said with an ironic grin. “But my intentions weren’t literal.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Landon apologized. “I was looking for someone.”

  “Well, I’m afraid they’ll have to wait.” Dr. Brighton’s tone was commanding and authoritative. “We need to have a conversation.” He scanned the area to see several curious students still loitering. “A private conversation,” he added.

  “But I really need to find her.”

  “Whoever it is you’re looking for can wait,” Dr. Brighton said sternly. “Our discussion, however, cannot.” Worry began to bubble up within Landon as Washington’s earlier words resurfaced. “Come with me to the garden. We’ll talk there.”

  “But Dr. Brighton, it’s really important I find her . . . now.”

  “Important?” The speed with which Dr. Brighton moved was astounding. In the blink of an eye he moved from the doorway to just inches away from Landon, their cheeks nearly touching. In a forceful whisper he said, “Do you realize what you’re playing at? Once you agree to enter the Pantheon, there is no quitting. It’s not like some gym membership you can cancel at any time. And now they think you’re too much of a liability. Your friend can wait.”

  Landon nodded in agreement, now legitimately concerned. Dr. Brighton spun around and started toward the ground floor of the Library. His bearing was strong and authoritative. Seeing him like this, Landon realized he was not dealing with Dr. Brighton, his mentor, but Zeus, the leader of the Pantheon.

  Landon tugged at his shirt to straighten it and fell in line, following close behind Dr. Brighton on their journey to the Secret Garden. As he walked, he continued to scan for Katie Leigh, but he never saw her during his trip out of the Gymnasium.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE TWENTY-FIVE YEAR PLAN

  The valley, reinvigorated after the brief summer thunderstorm, teemed with life. Birds playfully chased after each other, darting in sudden bursts from tree to tree, as insects, camouflaged in the wilderness, chirped loudly. The waning sun set the sky ablaze, golden fire streaked with rusted clouds, as the storm moved toward the horizon.

  As they weaved through the thick woods, the saturated ground squished under Landon’s feet, coating his cross-trainers in a thick layer of black sand and dead leaves. With every gust or breeze, the trees rustled noisily overhead and shook the water from their leaves, casting them to the ground in brief, sporadic downpours. The massive onslaught Landon could handle; it was when a sole droplet plopped squarely in the center of his head and trickled down his scalp that shivers coursed down his spine.

  Landon couldn’t get past the fact that he hadn’t spoken to Katie Leigh. He was worried for her more than for himself; his dream had convinced him that she was in danger.

  “Come on,” Dr. Brighton said, waving Landon along. Ten yards separated the two of them as they traversed the unmarked path. Landon had unknowingly slowed his pace to the point that Dr. Brighton noticed he was lagging.

  The pungent fragrance of the Secret Garden, flowing out like trapped air escaping from a pressurized room, consumed Landon’s nose as Dr. Brighton rolled the boulder away to reveal its entrance. At this hot time of year, the trees and shrubs developed a pungent odor that was musky and piney. Landon’s nose twitched a bit as it reminded him of paint thinner.

  They passed through the garden with some haste, winding down the path and over the bridge that covered the creek until they reached the three-story pagoda that housed Dr. Brighton’s apartment on the top floor. As Landon slid his shoes off to step barefooted into the pagoda behind Dr. Brighton, the splendor of the sun setting over the lake stopped him. The golden sky looked even more vibrant as hints of orange, red and pink tinted the remaining clouds, and the glowing sun hung just above the peaks of the western mountains. The sunset had transformed the lake into a vast pool of shimmering, liquid gold, and cast a bright yellowish light on all the foliage, giving new meaning to the term “gold leaf.” It was as if Midas roamed the Earth, touching everything with his cursed finger. For a second it made Landon think of Peregrine; he remembered what she looked like when the sunlight in the Atrium gleamed off her platinum blonde hair. He smiled. People dream their whole lives of living in a place like this. It was the rare moment that he was able to pause from the stresses of his predicament to appreciate the beauty of where he lived. Realizing he’d lingered too long, Landon turned back to the pagoda and after flicking his shoes off, hurried inside. He caught up to Dr. Brighton at the staircase, which they quickly ascended to the third floor.

  “Have a seat.” Dr. Brighton motioned toward the old cloth couch as he slid the door closed behind them. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I’m going to go make us some tea.”

  Landon shuffled over to the couch and hesitantly lowered himself onto the worn cushions. He heard water running and Dr. Brighton tinkering with pots and cups in the small kitchen hidden in the back of the room. Landon was nervous, and tapped his feet on the floor as he sat stiffly on the couch, looking awkward when juxtaposed against a well-aged relic of comfort. His fingers drummed on his thighs in anticipation of a conversation he suspected would have an undesirable outcome.

  The apartment felt a bit dank and messy to him now that he looked around, unlike the pristine apartment he remembered from previous visits. Streaks of golden sunlight shone through the windows in sharp, noticeable beams, revealing an unbelievable amount of dust suspended in the air. It was like light cast through a fog. The walls were lined with countless volumes of old philosophical texts, and ancient relics and statuettes were sprinkled about. Across from Landon, a lumpy recliner awaited Dr. Brighton’s return, and a heavy woolen afghan lay haphazardly over its arm with a corner trailing on the floor.

  Judging by the state of the place, Dr. Brighton appeared to be deeply immersed in some large project. Papers were strewn about the coffee table, consuming every inch of the wooden surface as if decoupaged. A shelf to Landon’s right was stacked with reams of loose articles.

  Dr. Brighton’s chessboard, rested atop the mess at the end of the coffee table. Pieces were positioned all over the board. They looked random to Landon’s untrained eyes, but they were just temporarily frozen in the midst of a heated battle of strategy and wit.

  “So you want to quit Pantheon?” Dr. Brighton’s voice projected out of the kitchen as he continued the process of preparing his treasured tea.

  At the sound, Landon jumped. “Yes, sir,” he answered in the formal manner required when speaking to his superior officer in the hierarchy of the Pantheon.

  Dr. Brighton proceeded out of the kitchen carrying two mugs of freshly steeped tea. He paused for a moment when he saw Landon’s grim expression and rigid posture. “Relax,” he said casually as he sauntered over to join him. “This isn’t the Spanish Inquisition. We just need to have a conversation.”

  Landon reached out and took the cup of tea Dr. Brighton offered him. He pulled it close and took a deep whiff of steam trailing up from the brew. The warm, fragrant vapor wafted through Landon’s nostrils, instantly sending a calming wave through his body. The scent of black tea always reminded him of an old book. It was somewhat woodsy with a hint of nuts, like walnuts or pecans, but it also carried a distinct floral scent. Landon could also smell citrus and vanil
la in Dr. Brighton’s concoction. The citrusy fragrance made Landon flash back to a memory of his mother casting the oily peels from the juicy oranges they devoured as a winter snack into the fireplace. Landon took a sip and let the sweet, hot drink linger on his tongue for a minute before swallowing it down. Instantly, his body loosened and he sank back into the couch.

  Dr. Brighton lowered himself into the recliner with a huff and, while crossing his legs, took a sip of his tea. “Ah,” he moaned as he closed his eyes in a moment of ecstasy, “that’s better.” He then sat up slightly in his chair and gave Landon his full attention, looking at him squarely. “So, I’d love to hear your side of what happened today. What happened that made you think quitting was the answer?”

  After another sip of tea, Landon proceeded to tell Dr. Brighton his account of events during the training session in the Palaestra and what led to his showdown with Brock. He tried to explain that the team would always be in danger as long as he and Brock were together, because Brock would never forgive him for his blatant defiance. Dr. Brighton remained silent as Landon stumbled through his words in an attempt to justify his decision. He merely sipped his tea and nodded on occasion as he listened.

  Once Landon had finished, Dr. Brighton leaned forward and placed his mug on top of a stack of papers. “Landon, every time I talk to you, I’m amazed by how much you resemble the young version of myself.”

  Landon raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s true,” Dr. Brighton added emphatically. “Granted, there are some differences, but for the most part you struggle with the same issues that I’ve faced my entire life. You’re intelligent and creative, but you’ve been dealt a difficult hand, which makes you unsure of yourself. I think we both can blame our fathers for that one. Unlike what my father’s lame motto may suggest, they’ve done nothing but try to hold us back from reaching our true potential,” he added offhandedly.