Heroes of Abraxas

Prologue

No! Mistress, please don't! I'm not the one! the terrified man wailed. His pale face was streaked with blood and tears, his black robe torn and ragged.

His pleas were ignored by the two grinning goblins dragging him across the bloodstained stone floor.

You are the one, Rollo, a woman's cold voice said. You must be. You're the only one left who ever dared question Lord Adrian.

No, Mistress Hera! Please, I'm begging you. It's not me. I was a faithful servant of His Lordship. Rollo wept as he struggled, trying futilely to break the inhumanly strong grip his captors had on him. From the condition of his clothes and the gashes on his face, it was clear that he had put up a fierce fight. But in the end his efforts were in vain.

Please, someone help me! he cried to the others who looked on from around the room. There were a number of dark-garbed humans, as well as a handful of gargoyles and centaurs watching silently, but none stepped forward or even met Rollo's desperate eyes.

The two burly goblins supported the man, each pinning one arm to his side. The creatures' tusks jutted out of their lower jaws, dripping drool on their captive's head. When they reached Mistress Hera, the goblins easily forced Rollo to his knees.

The woman loomed over Rollo, tall and slender in a brilliant red gown. A royal purple cloak was draped over her shoulders, clashing with the gown. Hera's cold face was framed by long black hair. Gaudy rings twinkled on each finger and chunky, gem-encrusted gold chains dangled from her regal neck.

It's too late for excuses and feeble pleas, Hera spat. You are the only one left who opposed my plan to visit Terra and search for Adrian. All the others who wanted to abandon him in that bleak void are now dead. So you must be the one.

No, you have to believe me! I long for the Master to be alive as much as you do. I was a fool to agree with the others when you first announced your plan. Of course His Lordship might still live, and I will gladly travel to the nonmagical world myself to search for him. Please, spare my life so I may prove my loyalty!

Oh, but that's just the problem, isn't it? the woman replied. Her strange, mismatched eyes – one of them brilliant violet, the other gold, like a cat's – bore into the man kneeling before her. "In order to jump to Terra, we must gain access to the Stones in Lord Adrian's vault. But in order to get past his vault's protector, we must identify the Master's mortal enemy.

We have already sacrificed nine of his sorcerers, all of whom might have secretly opposed our Master. But none of their deaths unlocked the vault. This proved they were loyal to him. Of course, it also means Adrian's mortal enemy still lives. She looked pointedly at the prisoner. "So, like nine others before you, the only way I can know you are loyal is if your death does not unseal the vault."

Hera stepped aside to reveal a doorway carved into the stone wall of the chamber. The entrance was tall enough for a small human to stand upright, but instead of a human, a glittering nightmare paced back and forth, blocking entry to the small room beyond. The creature had blazing red eyes, long, serrated fangs, and five knife-like claws on each of its four feet. Its tail was a razor. The beast was constructed from a gray metal that shone dully in the room's torchlight. Its size and movements resembled a panther's, but nature could never have created such an abominable beast.

The creature eyed the doomed captive hungrily.

Hera gave the goblins a single nod, and they thrust their screaming prisoner into the chamber. Both guards snorted with satisfaction while they looked on; the hint of a smile played across Hera's red lips.

The monster didn't immediately spring. Rollo held out his hands saying No, No! while he backed away from the circling beast. It was like a dance where Rollo took one step back and the creature took one step forward. This went on for a few excruciating moments, but when the terrified sorcerer took a step toward the room's center, that seemed to signal the dance's end. The beast sprang, catlike, in the blink of an eye. It landed on Rollo, and the man collapsed beneath a lethal display of metallic teeth and claws.

Unlike Hera and the goblins, the other sorcerers in the room didn't seem to enjoy watching Rollo's pathetic attempts to defend himself. They held their collective breath and looked past the executioner to the center of the room. There, three gleaming gemstones were perched atop a wide pedestal, and a golden shield hung upon the wall behind the stones. A shimmer of magic separated the items from the rest of the chamber. The sorcerers were waiting – praying – for the magical barrier to drop.

By the time Rollo's cries had been extinguished and the beast was licking its claws clean, the shimmering still hadn't faltered. The wrong Black Magician had been sacrificed. Again.

Hera's face was white with fury. It wasn't him! she shrieked, rounding on the others. Who is it, then? Which of you is the traitor? Hera's hands were balled into fists as she glared in turn at each of the two dozen or so humans, gargoyles, and centaurs.

If I don't find the traitor, Adrian will be lost in Terra forever. And I will kill every last one of you before letting that happen! she screamed, her mouth contorted in rage.

As she carried on, a tremor shook the stone floor. The room's occupants glanced at one another nervously. All except Hera, who seemed oblivious to the shaking.

The two goblins shrank back toward the door, while the others, afraid to move, endured the scrutiny of their leader. There was complete silence in the room. The Black Magicians' eyes were lowered, staring at the floor, trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Hera glared at them accusingly, as though expecting Adrian's enemy to break down and confess.

Excuse me...Mistress...if I may..., one lone voice began quietly.

Hera whipped around to face the dark-skinned woman who had spoken. The other woman's face was etched with fear, but she plunged ahead.

Perhaps we have been incorrect in assuming that Lord Adrian's mortal enemy is one of us. Perhaps we should instead look to those who caused the Master's...um...untimely loss.

Chapter 1

Are you sure you're in the right place?

The delicious aroma of pancakes wafted upstairs to Amanda's room where she was tying her blond hair into a ponytail. It was the last day of school, and Mom was celebrating by cooking a nice, hot breakfast for her family. It was just one more reason to love the start of summer vacation. Amanda scooped up her backpack and dashed down to the kitchen.

She found her father already sitting at the table, sipping coffee and poring over a large, complicated-looking diagram. His tall, skinny frame was hunched over the paper as he traced a line across it with one finger.

I don't know, Suz, he was saying, I think I'm going to need some more wire for the speakers.

Well, you want to make sure the sound system is right. You have a lot of people counting on you, Mom replied. Looking at Amanda, she asked, Pancakes, dear?

Yes, please! Amanda said enthusiastically. She sat down next to her brother, David, who was already wolfing down pancakes and orange juice. He made a primal grunting sound to indicate he would like more.

Are you ready for your last day of school? Dad asked, raising his bright blue eyes from the diagram to his children.

Amanda heaved a huge sigh. I sure am. You know, when I started high school, I thought I'd finally be treated like an adult. But instead, everybody acts like freshmen are just babies. I can't wait until next year when I'll get some respect around that place.

You've got pretty high expectations. I hope you're not disappointed again, Dad said with a chuckle. And how about you, David? Excited about summer vacation?

I'm still nervous about my speech, David admitted. He furrowed his brow and ran a hand through his too-long, light brown hair. The whole school will be there for the awards ceremony, so if I mess up, I'll never live it down.

You're going to do a great job, Mom assured him. You should be very proud of winning that journalism award. Your father and I will be there with the video camera to capture it for posterity.

Good idea, Amanda said approvingly. So when David's fly is open in front of everybody, I can laugh at it every day for the rest of my life. Amanda felt that it was her duty to keep her little brother humble. And he was kind enough to do the same for her.

David's hand flew to the zipper on his jeans, which was securely closed. Amanda chuckled as she poured syrup on her pancakes.

Trying to get his mind off the upcoming speech, David eyed the diagram in front of his father. Is that your plan for the music stage, Dad?

That's right. Rigging up equipment to make those teenagers' garage bands sound good isn't easy. I'm not a miracle worker. Plus, they'll have to be heard across most of the park, so we need speakers in just the right spots.

David and Amanda's father was the shop teacher at Dryden High School, making him a natural choice to take charge of the sound equipment for Dryden's Fund Fair. The fair was being held to raise money for new playground equipment at the town's elementary schools, so Dad was taking his job very seriously. Besides, he loved any project that gave him an excuse to break out his tool belt and spend time at the hardware store.

After breakfast, David was bent over the kitchen table, studying the note cards for his speech one more time when he heard Amanda grumbling by the back door.

Where could they have gone? she said. I took my gym shoes off right here last night.... She trailed off and looked up at her mother, horror written across her face. Mom was standing next to the sink with her arms crossed over her chest, watching Amanda. No! Not Shoe Safari! the girl cried.

Mom nodded. Amanda groaned.

Shaking her head and muttering under her breath, Amanda began the search for her shoes. Shoe Safari was a long-standing Stanhope family tradition. It all stemmed from Mom's phobia about shoes left lying around the house. She claimed that people could trip on them and crack their heads open. She also insisted that if a person was so careless as to leave shoes in the middle of a floor, they might even go so far as to leave them on steps. People could die, she claimed, if they tripped on shoes while walking down a flight of stairs.

Shoes have their proper place inside closets or along walls, where they can't hurt anyone, Mom repeatedly told her family.

In response to this fear, Mom had invented Shoe Safari. If she ever discovered that any of David's or Amanda's shoes weren't properly stored, she would hide the offending footwear. When David or Amanda discovered their shoes missing, they had to search the house for them.

As her children grew, Mom's Shoe Safari hiding places became more challenging. When David and Amanda were very young, the shoes would be put in easy spots, like on a kitchen chair or under a sofa cushion. Now that they were older, the shoes were found tucked up with the Christmas ornaments or in empty cereal boxes.

Shoe Safari didn't happen very often anymore because over the years David and Amanda had learned to put their shoes away, but sometimes they still forgot. This was one of those times.

Amanda thought back to the previous evening. She had gotten home late from a trip to the mall with her friend, Dusty, and was in a hurry to wash up for dinner before Mom or Dad noticed the time. She remembered kicking off her shoes as she dashed through the kitchen, planning to put them away after dinner.

They wouldn't be in the dining room, would they? Amanda grumbled, stomping down the hall.

Hey, keep it down! I'm trying to memorize my speech! David called.

Oh, don't bother, Amanda snapped. No one will be listening to your stupid speech.

"Jealous! You wish you could be the one standing on that stage today accepting an award. And the best part about it is at least I'll be wearing shoes!" David pushed away from the kitchen table and started rooting around in his backpack to make sure he had everything he needed for the day. Note cards, homework, lunch money, and a paper bag to put over his head when he made a fool of himself. Yep, it was all there.

After the dining room proved to be a bust, Amanda continued her Shoe Safari in the laundry room. She eliminated both the hamper and the dryer's lint trap from her list of possible hiding places before moving into the basement.

A few minutes later, Amanda cried out triumphantly, Found 'em! She emerged at the top of the basement stairs waving a pair of white sandals. You really had me with that one, Mom. I never would have found them, but I figured I'd clean out the cats' litter box while I was down there. When I opened the bag of clean litter, there they were!

Amanda slipped on her dusty shoes, washed her hands, and headed out the door for school.

#

David nervously flipped through his note cards and sweated while he waited backstage at the Dryden Junior High School auditorium. The rest of the school newspaper staff was there, along with Ms. Prince, the faculty advisor. As usual, the woman's hair was in a state of disarray, her blouse was covered with ink smudges, and her slip showed below her skirt's hemline. But, also as usual, she was enthusiastic.

As Ms. Prince scurried by David, she patted him on the shoulder and said, You deserve this award, you know! You're the first seventh grader to ever win; usually they give it to eighth graders who've had more time to develop their reporting skills. But that story you wrote about how the school saves $1.00 a day by buying cheap, scratchy toilet paper had the whole school talking! Not to mention itching! It had always amazed David how Ms. Prince could have entire conversations while flitting around like a hummingbird – a slightly unkempt hummingbird.

Are you excited about the assembly? David's friend Schmitty asked when he and his brother Steve sidled up to David.

I don't know if 'excited' is the right word, David responded. Maybe 'terrified beyond reason' would describe my feelings better.

You have nothing to worry about, Steve said confidently. That speech can't miss. You're going to have the whole school cheering and carrying you out of the auditorium on their shoulders.

David raised an eyebrow at his friend. Somehow I don't think the whole school is going to be so enthusiastic about an acceptance speech for a junior high school journalism award. In fact, if more than four people in the entire room listen to a word I say, I'll be amazed.

You'll see. Schmitty and I are going to be even cooler just for hanging around with you, Steve assured him.

David sighed as he surveyed his two best friends. Considering the Bennett Brothers' frizzy hair, thick glasses, and matching Chess Club sweatshirts, maybe they were right. Maybe for them, knowing a kid who won an obscure journalism award would improve their social standing. I suppose it can't really hurt them, David decided.

In case you haven't had a chance to look in the auditorium yet, the crowd is just sitting down now, Schmitty told David. Give them a few minutes to start getting restless and bored, then you can rush out there and dazzle them. It'll be like a rock concert. Oh, and your dad's sitting in the front row with your mom. You suppose he's ditching his class?

David told himself he shouldn't look at the gathering masses of students waiting to jeer him, but he couldn't resist. Moving aside a corner of the curtain, he peeked around the edge of the stage into the auditorium. His heart nearly stopped when he saw hundreds of kids milling around, shouting to one another and laughing.

The only thing that calmed him down was the sight of Mom and Dad sitting the first row. They seemed to be trying to figure out how to use their new video camera. Mom had her auburn hair trapped behind her ears as she studied the instruction manual, while Dad pressed a random series of buttons that made lights flash on the device.

David, there you are! Ms. Prince said briskly, bustling over and adjusting David's collar. She turned to introduce a very young woman who was tagging along behind her. This is Sarah Black. She's going to take your picture for the Dryden newspaper.

Um, hi, David said with some surprise. I didn't know the newspaper was going to be here. Are you sure you're in the right place?

Sarah smiled. It was a slow news week. We were supposed to cover this baby decathlon thing that the park district was throwing. It should have been really cute, but it didn't work out. They couldn't get the babies to crawl in a straight line, and the long jump event was a joke. They ended up canceling it after the kids started hitting each other with their pole vault sticks. Sarah's smile brightened when she added, But you should relax! I'm just going to take a few pictures, get a little background, and that's it. I promise it won't hurt a bit.

While David was talking to Sarah, the school principal, Mr. McCreedy, approached. As usual, Principal McCreedy was red in the face and his round body had been crammed into a suit that might have fit him 30 pounds ago.

That's right, David, McCreedy wheezed. We want everyone in town to know what fine, upstanding students we have here at Dryden Junior High. After that water balloon incident on the art museum field trip, we have a lot to live down. Then he paused and looked David squarely in the eye. And if you help us improve our image, then maybe I'll forget about how your little story is costing me $1 more every day for toilet paper.

So David smiled while Sarah snapped his picture for the Dryden Times, and he dutifully answered her questions. Soon, however, it became clear that Sarah was as new to conducting interviews as David was to being interviewed. She had a small notebook and read a series of predictable questions from it, like When did you become interested in journalism? and Who are some of your heroes in the field?

Oddly, Sarah also asked some questions that she had probably written down to remind herself about important details for crime-related stories. For example, one of the first things she asked David was Is the subject male or female?

David's cheeks turned pink and he mumbled Male.

Steve and Schmitty were listening in on David's interview while waiting to have their pictures taken with the rest of the school newspaper staff. They took the opportunity to blurt, Female! He's definitely female!

If I were female, the two of you wouldn't have the guts to speak to me, David grumbled.

The next question Sarah asked was, Does the subject have any distinguishing physical marks? David caught himself unconsciously examining his hands and forearms.

Despite knots of anxiety in David's stomach, the awards ceremony went smoothly. David delivered his speech without embarrassing mishaps. The note cards didn't get mixed up, and his pants didn't collapse in a heap around his ankles. The fact that the student body refrained from throwing rotten fruit at him was icing on the cake.

Unfortunately, there wouldn't be any video footage to prove to Amanda that he had avoided public humiliation. Halfway through David's speech, an insistent beeping erupted from the auditorium's front row.

Dad waved the video camera wildly, trying to make the noise stop, while he cried, Suz, what's this mean? Where's the manual? Why does it keep flashing?

When the assembly was finally over, David cautiously allowed himself to admit things had gone well. It was true that David, Steve, and Schmitty hadn't been transformed into the coolest kids at school, despite Schmitty's prediction. But they didn't seem any more geeky than they had been at the beginning of the day, either.

Be thankful for small favors, David told himself as he jammed the trophy into his locker and made his way to the cafeteria for lunch.

#

While David was feeling grateful for maintaining his dignity during a potentially embarrassing assembly, Amanda was busy keeping her eyes open in English class. The bell finally rang after what felt like about three weeks of sitting at a small, hard desk with her head propped on her fist. Amanda and her best friend, Dusty Shepard, blended in with the crowd of students pouring into the hallway.

Did you hear about Tony and Collette? He broke up with her, Dusty announced in triumph while she and Amanda walked to their lockers.

No, really? Right before summer vacation? That's just cruel, Amanda responded, looking shocked.

Tell me about it. Everyone knows she was just going out with him so she'd have a summer boyfriend, but now the loser goes and dumps her. Can you imagine going into summer vacation alone?

Amanda looked at her friend pointedly. Yes, in fact Amanda didn't need to imagine it. She was living it.

Oh, right, Dusty jumped to clarify herself. "I don't mean us, of course. We're two very together and independent chicks who don't need the hassle of guys to weigh us down, she explained confidently. I'm talking about an insecure popularity hound like Colette. She hasn't been without a summer boyfriend since we were, like, six years old. She must be crushed."

Amanda nodded as best she could, while dragging a staggering armload of textbooks out of her locker. The books needed to be returned to each of her teachers before summer vacation. Every year it seemed to Amanda that textbook return day represented a feat of strength which all the students were forced to endure before they could enjoy three months of freedom. And if that was the case, Amanda had every intention of succeeding and earning her time off.

I always knew Tony and Colette wouldn't last, Amanda pointed out while she lugged several inexplicably heavy books down the hall. It's the Peanut Butter Theory at work again.

Dusty fixed her friend with a shocked stare. Are you sure? How do you know about Colette's and Tony's peanut butter favorites? The Peanut Butter Theory was one of Dusty and Amanda's favorite explanations for how the world worked.

Well, Colette has eaten Skippy Chunky peanut butter ever since we were in kindergarten with her. And Tony told me his favorite last year when we were science lab partners. People talk about an awful lot of things when they're dissecting a worm together.

And? Dusty prompted Amanda impatiently.

And he likes that Goober stuff with the peanut butter and jelly mixed up together.

No way!

Of course, as soon as I heard that, I knew Tony would have a hard time settling down, Amanda said wisely.

Your Peanut Butter Theory always works, Dusty said, giving Amanda a pat on the back. Who would have thought you could predict happy couples based on whether they eat the same kind of peanut butter?

It's always accurate, too, Amanda agreed. Take my parents; they both like Creamy Jif and always have. But your parents could never agree on peanut butter, and they eventually had to split up.

That's true. My mom liked Reese's peanut butter, but Dad liked Peter Pan. Then we'd have both in the house at the same time and I never knew which one to eat because Mom and Dad would both take it personally if I didn't choose their brand. It was a nightmare. Dusty rubbed her forehead at the memory.

It's always the children who suffer most when Peanut Butter Theory is ignored, Amanda said philosophically. But now they're both remarried to people who share their peanut butter and everyone's happy.

Yep. Oh, and remember when I went to the winter dance with the guy from Central School? I thought he was so great, then I found out he ate that natural peanut butter where the oil separates from the peanut part and you have to stir it up. Dusty grimaced.

Amanda rolled her eyes. He was crazy. You did the right thing dumping him.

#

At dinner that evening, Mom insisted David use his trophy as the dining room table's centerpiece. Amanda pretended to gag while she set the table around it, and at one point during the meal she said, David, could you pass the butter? It's next to the fake gold symbol of your painful lack of a social life.

Ignoring his sister, David said, Dad, did you get everything you needed for the Fund Fair's sound system?

Yes, I think so. I'll have to tweak a few things when we're setting up, but I've got all the equipment and volunteers I need. And let me tell you, finding decent volunteers wasn't easy. Half the people who wanted to help were teenage girls who just wanted to hang around backstage to pass out bottles of water to the band members. The other half refused to help unless I promised them free earplugs. This should be some concert.

After dinner, Amanda went upstairs to call Dusty. When she walked into her room, she noticed a pile of folded clothes on her bed that hadn't been there before school.

Mom, these are great! Where did they come from? Amanda gushed, sorting through the T-shirts, shorts, and sundresses.

Mom appeared in the doorway. I wanted to surprise you with some new things to take with on vacation. I wasn't sure how much time we'd have to shop for summer clothes since we're so busy with Fund Fair.

Thanks! It's almost worth having to spend my summer stuck in the Minnesota woods if I get to dress well. Amanda held up a pink polo shirt and admired her reflection in the mirror.

I'm glad you approve, Mom replied. Then she raised her voice and called down the hall. "And I got some things for David, too, but he probably wouldn't