The Secret of Zoone Read online

  In the middle of it was Aunt Temperance’s key.

  Ozzie looked around. Cho, Lady Zoone, his friends, even the wizards were just staring in awe at the glibber king’s smoking remains.

  “Salamanda!” Nymm suddenly cried. “Where is she?”

  “She must have escaped during the battle,” Cho said, bending down to retrieve his Valdune blade.

  “She’s still here, in the forest somewhere,” Lady Zoone said. “Seek her, Cho!”

  The captain nodded and darted into the forest, the wizards—even Nymm—fast on his heels. The sounds of their chase faded into the Infinite Wood, then everything was quiet. Even the station bell had stopped ringing.

  “Ozzie,” Lady Zoone said, bending to rest a trembling hand on his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

  In a daze, Ozzie clutched at his chest, where he had been struck by Crogus’s tongue. His shirt was sticky and wet with slobber, but that was all.

  “We need to get you to the infirmary,” Lady Zoone said.

  But Ozzie barely heard her. He was looking past her, to where Tug was still stretched out on the grass. Fidget was sitting beside him now, shaking him. There was no response from the giant cat, but Ozzie could see his fur changing color. Only moments ago, it had been a ghastly green; now it was turning black, the color of dirty oil.

  “Tug?” Ozzie cried, fumbling forward to collapse at the skyger’s side. “Wake up!”

  “He’s not moving,” Fidget sobbed.

  Lady Zoone came and knelt beside them. Her face was pale and drawn, sapped of its usual twinkle. A woeful chirp came from one of the birds in her tall nest of hair. “Crogus’s work,” she said shakily. “H-he’s dying.”

  “No!” Ozzie cried. “That can’t be.”

  But he knew she was right. Crogus’s venom was ravaging Tug’s body, squeezing the life from his very soul. Ozzie knew what it felt like to have just a drop of that poison inside of him. But Tug had taken a full dose of it—a lethal dose.

  “Wake up, Tug,” Fidget pleaded, running her fingers through the skyger’s thick fur. “Can’t you hear us?”

  “We have to save him,” Ozzie wailed, looking desperately at Lady Zoone. “Hurry! Call back the wizards! Do something.”

  Lady Zoone reached out and gently stroked Tug’s whiskery head. “Oh, Ozzie. I think . . . there’s nothing we can . . .”

  “No!” Ozzie shouted. “Don’t say that!”

  He tried to lift Tug’s massive head and cradle it in his lap, but it was too heavy. He had to leave the cat’s head where it lay.

  “There’s no cure,” Lady Zoone explained softly. “Crogus has cursed countless victims with his dark magic. Even wizards. His poison is like a maggot, worming its way into your mind, feasting on your insecurities, all the while sucking away your very essence until you wither away and die. And, as you weaken, he makes himself all the stronger. No one’s ever survived the poison of the glibber king.”

  “I did,” Ozzie murmured.

  “What?” Lady Zoone asked intently. “What did you say?”

  “In my world,” Ozzie explained, clenching Tug’s fur, “when Crogus was weak. He’s more powerful here.”

  Tug released a harsh and agonizing gasp.

  “We’re losing him!” Fidget panicked.

  Ozzie slumped forward, burying his face in Tug’s stiffening black fur. “I don’t know what to do. I wish I did. I wish I was stronger.” But he didn’t feel strong. In fact, he felt the exact opposite, so . . .

  “Ozzie!” he heard Lady Zoone say, though it seemed like she was suddenly far away. “Are you all right?”

  . . . weak and frail. That’s how Ozzie felt, like he was being squeezed, but from the inside. Ozzie used all his energy to lift his head, only to find himself surrounded by darkness.

  “What’s going on?” Ozzie asked.

  He could still feel Tug’s fur in his hands, but just barely, and he couldn’t see him—in fact, he couldn’t see anything. Ozzie had the sense that Lady Zoone was shouting at him, but as if from the other side of the forest. Then her voice disappeared altogether, abandoning Ozzie in the strange and senseless world. The darkness wriggled about him like an inky mass of creepy-crawlies, as if it might consume him.

  “Where am I?” Ozzie gasped.

  “This is the truth, worm,” came the sinister and all-too-familiar voice of Crogus. “The truth of you.”

  28

  The Glibber King’s Poison

  Ozzie’s mind was spinning. He had just seen the glibber king explode into smithereens. So how could this be happening?

  But it was happening; somehow, the glibber king had returned and pulled him into this immeasurable pit of darkness. Ozzie couldn’t see Crogus—he still couldn’t see anything—but he could definitely hear him. The fiend’s words were slipping through the darkness, as soft and sticky as flypaper.

  “Do you like it?” Crogus cooed. “This place? Pretty miserable, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t understand,” Ozzie said, desperately turning in a circle, trying to catch a glimpse of something—anything—substantial.

  “Then let me explain,” the glibber king said delightedly. “This is the reality of your life. Oh, those wizards say all kinds of nasty things about what I do to people. But all I do is just show them the place where they really are. Not physically, you know, but in their hearts. I show them the truth. It’s not my fault that people can’t handle it, that they’d rather wither away and die than face it.”

  “I—I can face it,” Ozzie dared to say.

  “Can you, now?” There was a pause, then Ozzie heard the glibber king release a long, luxurious chuckle. “I see you, worm. I see your truth. And now, I want you to see it, too. Take a look around. This is you. This is your place. And surprise, surprise. You’re alone. That’s the truth in Eridea. That’s the truth in Zoone. That’s the truth everywhere.”

  “No,” Ozzie called into the darkness, though he could hear the uncertainty in his own voice. “That might have been true before . . . but not now. I have a place.”

  “Yes,” Crogus agreed. “It’s here. And—look about—you’re all alone. See? No one cares about you.”

  “Yes, they do,” Ozzie said, but quietly. Timidly.

  “Who?” Crogus wondered. “Your parents?” The glibber king let that one sink in for a moment. Then, with an ominous titter, he added, “Lady Zoone? Cho? They just shuffled you off to the side, told you not to worry about anything important. Like me. Then there’s Salamanda. You thought she liked you, but it was all part of her ruse. She played you for the fool you are.”

  Ozzie grimaced. Thinking about Salamanda still stung. “But there’s Tug,” he said, trying to push Salamanda out of his mind. “And Fidget . . . and Aunt—”

  “I think you’re missing the point,” Crogus interrupted. “Maybe some people have made a place for you. Maybe. But have you made a place for them?”

  His words were twisting inside of Ozzie, quicker than he could outthink them. It was like taking a test, but each time you wrote down an answer, you realized the question on the line above it had changed.

  “Take your aunt,” the glibber king offered. “She’s the perfect example. You left her behind.”

  “No,” Ozzie insisted. “I came to save her.”

  “Did you now? Or did you abandon her? Isn’t that what you really wanted to do? You told her you were tired of being stuck with her, and as soon as your first chance came along for adventure, you took it. It didn’t matter that you left her behind—or your entire world, for that matter. No, no . . . it didn’t matter because it’s all about you. As long as you’ve found your adventure. Your aunt is just a casualty. Isn’t that so?”

  It felt like an entire nest of creepy-crawlies was writhing inside Ozzie’s stomach, wriggling up his throat, and gnawing at his brain. It was becoming so hard to think, so hard to maneuver through Crogus’s maze of arguments.

  “Oh, I know your type, worm,” Crogus continued in his cloying tone. “You
’ve been desperate and lonely for such a long time. All those years spent moping about, feeling sorry for yourself. Do that long enough and pretty soon the only person you think about—care about—is yourself.”

  “No, you’re twisting everything,” Ozzie protested. “It’s not my—you’re just . . . I’ve been trying to help Aunt Temperance. I . . . I . . . that’s why I snuck into the conference . . . and . . . and tried to go to Isendell. To get the door open.”

  “Oh?” Crogus wondered. “That’s the reason, is it? And here I thought it was to impress Salamanda. Which, when you come to think of it, is pretty much to help yourself. To win her affections. Not like the purple-haired princess and the cat. They didn’t go to Glibbersaug for themselves. They went for you. It seems to me they’re always doing things for you—like standing up for you. But it never seems to go the other way. Ah, yes . . . you’re quick enough to complain when someone abandons you. But it’s perfectly acceptable when you’re the one doing the abandoning. Tell me, worm, what have you ever done for your so-called friends?”

  “I . . . I . . . threw the key down your throat,” Ozzie mumbled feebly. What he really wanted to say was “I killed you, Crogus”—but that didn’t really make sense. How could it, when Crogus was still here, tormenting him?

  “Let’s start with the princess, shall we?” Crogus went on. “She arrives in Zoone, an outcast in a strange land. All she really wanted was a friend, someone to take her side. But instead, you treat her like she’s a glibber spy.”

  Ozzie tried to respond, but his voice died in his throat.

  “Then there’s the skyger,” Crogus continued in mock sympathy. “Poor, gentle beast, dreaming of Azuria. He thought he could find a home there. But you, worm, knew the truth. You knew about his mother. You could have told him, broke it to him gently. But you were just thinking about yourself again.”

  Everything Crogus was saying was true, Ozzie realized. How many times had Tug helped him? Saved him? But when it was Ozzie’s turn to save Tug, he had failed.

  “Yes . . . ,” Crogus uttered. “All this time, the girl and the cat were merely searching for a place . . . a place to be . . . a place to belong. Just like you. But you never thought about it from their perspective, did you? Just your own. What kind of person does that make you? So scared to help someone who cares about you. You always just run away. You ran away from your aunt. You ran away from the princess. You ran away from the skyger. And now the cat knows the truth and he’s dying. He’s dying, worm. And it’s all because of you. So now this is your place, worm. Your own little empire of selfishness.”

  Ozzie had no strength left to argue, to resist. He felt like the darkness was devouring him, that soon he would be indiscernible from it.

  “Wh-what’s happening?” he murmured meekly.

  “I told you,” Crogus said almost matter-of-factly. “You’re dying, worm.”

  Yes, Ozzie realized. I’m dying. But how? How did Crogus come back to life and snatch me? How did he bring me to this horrendous place? One minute, I was with Tug, and the next . . .

  Finally, he understood.

  Crogus hadn’t taken him. In fact, he wasn’t even there. It wasn’t the glibber king talking to Ozzie—it was his poison. It had seeped into Ozzie and was snaking its way through his soul, perverting his thoughts and feelings and turning his worst insecurities against him. Somehow, the venom had spread from Tug to him.

  Because nothing makes your own heart shrivel up and die faster than seeing it happen in someone you care about. That’s what Crogus had said.

  “Wait a minute,” Ozzie said. “Then that means—”

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” the poison snarled.

  “Yes, it does,” Ozzie persisted.

  Crogus had claimed that his venom possessed the power to show people the truth. But the truth was a tricky thing. There were two sides to it, like there were two different sides to a door. Crogus’s poison had found the worst of Ozzie’s self-doubt and mangled and manipulated it, trying to lure him to a darker version of reality. And Ozzie had almost fallen for it. But now he could see a keyhole of light shining through, back to his truth.

  “You say I’m dying?” Ozzie said. “If I’m dying, it means I do care about Tug. It could only come through him to me because of it.”

  “What does it matter now?” the poisonous thoughts retorted. “You’re still dying.”

  “It’s okay, though,” Ozzie said, feeling a wave of relief envelop him. “The truth is, I care. I’m not who you say I am.” Ozzie tried to focus all of his energy on Tug; he knew the magnificent cat was out there, somewhere, in his own desolate darkness. “At least we’ll die together,” Ozzie gasped out to the skyger. “You and me, Tug. It’s like you always say. Because we’re a team.”

  For the briefest of moments, the darkness shattered and Ozzie was back in the woods, clenching Tug’s fur. But it was just a blink—then he was back in the dark domain of Crogus’s poison, surrounded by the wriggling blackness. What had caused that momentary escape? What had he felt? A spasm of life? A shiver of magic?

  Of potential, Ozzie thought. The good kind. The Aunt Temperance untapped-secret-energy kind.

  We’re a team.

  Those words meant something to Tug. The skyger had heard Ozzie speak them; he was sure of it. They had caused his heart to surge, and the poison to recoil. How many times had Tug said those same words to him? More than he could count, Ozzie realized. He had never really given them much thought. But now he did. Because those words didn’t just mean . . . what they meant. They meant something else: You can be my friend. We can belong together.

  That was Tug’s way. He wasn’t afraid of taking a risk, to say that he cared about you. Tug didn’t live in potential, standing at the edge of a doorway, going nowhere. He always marched right on through, and if his tail happened to rip the door from its hinges along the way, well, so be it. At least he made it to the other side.

  I’ve got to go through, too, Ozzie realized.

  He tried to speak again, but he was so feeble, so drained, that the words only came out in a rasp. He saw Tug again, but he was blurry, like he was looking at him through a sheet of ice.

  “It’s too late!” the venomous thoughts gloated.

  Then Ozzie heard Lady Zoone’s voice. It was still distant and faint, but he heard it all the same. “Ozzie,” she pleaded. “Don’t stop. Whatever you’re trying to do . . . keep trying.”

  “He’s too weak!” Ozzie heard Fidget sob. “He’s dying, Lady Zoone. He’s dying, too!”

  “No!” Lady Zoone declared, a determined timbre in her voice. “You can do it, Ozzie!”

  Ozzie tried again, but his voice was hoarse, only a whisper.

  “How can you defeat me?” the poison hissed, sounding just like Crogus. “I came from the glibber king. I destroy everyone. Even wizards.”

  He’s right, Ozzie thought. I only survived before because Mr. Crudge’s magic was so weak. But here . . . the poison is so strong here.

  “Listen to me,” Lady Zoone urged, as if she could somehow read his thoughts. “Crogus’s spell is more powerful than when he was in Eridea. It’s true! But do you know what . . . so are you, Ozzie. So are you.”

  She unlocked something inside of him then, as surely as if she had taken the key from around her neck and found a keyhole in his heart. Suddenly, Ozzie understood. It was the secret of Zoone. It had the power to bring out the best in you—if you let it. It was the thing Ozzie had almost figured out that very night, sitting in the Magic-Makers’ Market, moments before everything had gone so terribly wrong.

  And now he could make it right.

  “Tug?” he spluttered. “We . . . are . . . a team.”

  Another tremble reverberated through the skyger’s body; Ozzie could feel it, and it gave him renewed vigor. The doorway was opening. He was leaving the darkness and stepping back into Zoone.

  “You can’t do it,” Crogus’s foul magic threatened. But there was a hesitation in that thre
at—a hesitation that Ozzie could use.

  “I know how you feel, Tug,” Ozzie continued. He could hear the echoes of Crogus’s words inside of him, growling in protest—but now it only served to embolden Ozzie. The poison was weakened, ebbing away, and Ozzie was fully back in the Infinite Wood. He could see Lady Zoone and Fidget from the corners of his eyes. He could feel Tug’s stiff black fur in his hands. He could hear the skyger’s broken breathing.

  “Fidget,” Ozzie called. “Help me . . . help Tug. Hug him.”

  “I’m here, Oz,” Fidget said, kneeling beside him. “I’m with you. I’m with both of you.”

  “I’m so sorry, Fidget,” Ozzie said. “I should have been a better friend.”

  “What are you talking about?” Fidget said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Don’t worry about me! Tug—save Tug!”

  Ozzie nodded and put his cheek against the skyger’s rigid fur. “Listen to me,” Ozzie told him. “You’re different, Tug, it’s true. But that doesn’t mean you’re out of place. You wanted to go to Azuria, to fit in. To belong. But you don’t need to find other skygers. Your mother left you—it’s awful. I know it is. Because my parents left me, too. The thing is, it doesn’t matter where your place is. As long as you have one. As long as you belong. And you do belong, Tug. You belong here. You belong to Cho, to Lady Zoone, to Fidget . . . and to me. You belong to me, Tug.”

  “Tug’s tail—it twitched!” Fidget shrieked.

  “His ears, too!” Lady Zoone added.

  Ozzie heard Tug inhale a deep breath, felt his whiskers tickle his cheeks. He looked up just in time to see a burst of blue ripple across the skyger’s enormous torso. Then the cat swished his tail, bowling Fidget from her feet.

  “Me and you,” Tug purred, opening his giant sapphire eyes to stare at Ozzie. “We’re a team. Right?”