Page 31 - The Window_ A Foundations' Style Rapier

“Well, Astrid, you just made yourself a part of it, throwing yourself in harm’s way like that. That act
back there, that’s worthy of execution, you know.” The man shakes his head sorrowfully, “You have
learned too much already, but the boy who ran off knew even more.”
The man scratches his beard thoughtfully and says, “If you’re willing to stop me from shooting
at this boy, then you must know him, ay?”
Playing along, I nod my head sadly, “He told me I wasn’t supposed to tell you we were working
together.”
“Then you might know where he is?” the man prods.
“Sure . . . There’s a few places I can check.”
“I’ll tell you this, you little rascal,” the man says, sure of himself, “I’ll give you until sundown to find
your friend and bring him here,” The man hands me a folded slip of paper. “If you return empty
handed, or don’t return at all, I will send all the forces in the Lumet after you, you hear?”
I nod frenziedly until the man seems satisfied, and sets me down again.
“I hope to see you tonight, and if not, I’ll give your mommy and daddy my condolences,” the man
grins wickedly, and I sprint out of the alley and down the street, my heart beating faster than it ever
has before. I don’t care where my feet are taking me, only that I need to get as far away as I possibly
can from the man, and his horrible, gruesome smile.

After running far enough away that I feel somewhat safe, I realize I’m totally lost. Bending over, I
exhale raggedly and take a deep breath in. It smells different in this part of Pollua, the air humid and
sticky sweet. Then, I inhale once more, and the air tastes salty. It’s the most unusual sensation I have
ever experienced! I drop down to the curb and trace the letters, A S T R I D, onto the dusty street.
Looking around, I’m on the side of a three-way intersection, complete with storefronts and
lobbies alike, and the block is busy, yet quiet. It’s as if everyone is keeping perfectly silent yet going
about their daily lives. I look up, and quiet skyscrapers threaten to trap me in. I look to the left, and a
plane zooms overhead, just visible through the grey, overcast weather. Finally, I look behind me and
notice something peculiar about it.
A storefront is completely boarded up, no windows, doors, or any visible entrance, and the
building, sandwiched between two fat high-rises, is only one-story tall; illegal construction in Lumet.
And that’s not the only thing that’s odd about the place; on the wooden boards a mural has been
painted, depicting a lonely pier over a vast body of water. Far out to sea sits a massive luxury cruise
ship, on which is written, in nearly illegible script: The Amulet.
I haven’t ever seen anything like it, and the water intrigues me; its white foam and marbled
blue-green surface pulling me in. Getting up from the curb, I walk over to the mural, pushing my way
past a few people standing in line for an early lunch. In front of the mural is a single crate, so I push
on it, thinking I can move it to get a better view of the painting.
The crate doesn’t move. It has to be securely connected to the ground. But why would anyone
connect a crate to the sidewalk?
I shut everything else out of my mind, just focusing on the answer to the question. Finally, I
realize: it has to be a secret entrance!
Surveying my surroundings, I stand on top of the crate and run my hand over the mural. I study
the wall painting, and notice that there are little indentations on the cruise ship. The letters in the
ship’s name - The Amulet - are painted onto tiny little buttons that I can just reach by balancing on
my tip-toes.
My brain whirring at a million miles an hour, I press a letter apprehensively. I hear a little beep,
though I don’t know where it came from. These letters are a password, and seemingly a cipher that I
have to untangle. I think of all the obvious words: ship, boat, pier, water, and none of them fit. I stand
on top of the crate for five minutes, realize I’m getting nowhere, and step down onto the sidewalk so I
can get a new viewpoint. The “L” in Amulet catches my eye.
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