I landed with a thud on a flat, slippery surface, coming to a stop at someone’s feet. A hand reached down and helped hoist me up. The next room was dark.
“James, can you–” I started.
“My battery is below 20 percent,” James said. “Unless there are more dragons to slay, I’d prefer to save it.”
“I still have leaves; is there a spell for light?” I asked.
“Yes, it’s K’anchay,” Corbyn said.
I reached into my back pocket and withdrew one of my last ones. “Not sure how long the light will last before the magic wears out.”
“Light’s a natural state for magic so it lasts a long time,” Corbyn said.
“K’anchay!” I said, holding the leaf up. The leaf immediately lit up, illuminating a space about the size of a full basketball court. The room was rectangular and empty except for a miniature cottage in the middle. There were three shuttered windows, a chimney, and a small porch. The only thing that didn’t fit was the golden revolving door like you might see in an old mall or hospital.
We walked up the steps and approached the door. Hen and I tried to push through, but the revolving door wouldn’t budge.
“Why won’t it open?” Corbyn asked.
“Again, it might help if you read the sign,” James said.
He pointed to a small plaque next to the door. It read: Only he with the key may enter and no more.
“What’s the key?” Hen asked.
“The bird,” I said.
“The bird?” James repeated.
“That is what we found at the ‘throne of judgment’,” I said. “Which of us–”
Hen cut me off. “This is a job for you, Underboy.”
“But you guys have helped so–”
“Santiago, just get in there and be quick about it, will you?” James said.
Hen pushed me forward. I put my hand up to the door then paused, turned and handed the leaf to James.
I was able to push my way through the door with just the bird perched on my shoulder.
The inside was surprisingly warm and inviting. Several kerosene lamps lit up the room; by their glow, I could see the wooden statue of a man whose image I’d seen before. He was sitting at a table, a teacup in his hand.
And around his neck was a necklace.
“Welcome, Santiago,” the Arnold statue said. “I expect you are hoping to find the Pearls of Prescott.”