The Rise of Greg

by Chris Rylander

  “To this day, I am not entirely sure,” Kreych admitted. “That is a secret only they know. Consider it a tiny hole in my canvas of knowledge, so to speak. But they did warn me that travelers might end up here in the future, like you are now, searching for a fabled amulet. They told me they would make up a story to throw anyone in search of the truth behind their powers off the trail. Sorry to disappoint you . . .”

  I slumped to the ground, sitting on the floor like I might never get up. Edwin began pacing and swearing. As did a few of the others. All of us were upset, angry, defeated, and left feeling hopeless and empty.

  “How can we defeat the Verumque Genus now?” Rhistel asked.

  “Like I said before,” Kreych said, “that’s not my concern. Wars and battles come and go. Come and go. They’re all objectively terrible in the moment. But in the end, none of them really matter.”

  “How can you say that knowing what the Fairies did to stop this war the last time it was ongoing?” Edwin asked.

  “Because I now know more than they did about the true nature of our world,” Kreych said coolly. “Fairies were clairvoyant, powerful creatures. But even their knowledge had its limits. Plus, they were mortal. They would care about such things as life and death, and the fate of a single planet among a billion-trillion-gazillion others. I, however, do not. In fact, if this Earth dies, then I will finally get to die along with it myself. Something I have longed for for at least the past thousand years. I’m sorry.”

  Which meant we now faced a full war with the Verumque Genus and their army of monsters. There was no way to subvert the violence. No way to magically suck the wind from their sails before anyone else had to die. Furthermore, we now had to fight them without an object so powerful it would have ensured our victory. And beyond all of that, I now felt almost completely hopeless about my dad’s vision to bring peace to the world with magic. I had actually begun believing that something as powerful as the amulet was the key to his vision.

  But now I knew it wasn’t.

  Because there was no such thing as the Faranlegt Amulet of Sahar.

  “But Stoney couldn’t have been wrong, could he?” Ari asked, as she sat down next to me. “He knew it was real. He knows everything about minerals . . . I mean, what about Rock One?”

  “Stoney never claimed to know about the amulet,” I reminded her. “He only cared about the heart of the fabled amulet. A rare and enchanted gemstone known as Corurak.”

  “Right,” Ari said, lowering her voice. “And it was supposedly the only quantity of the mineral in existence.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Maybe that’s real, maybe not, but it doesn’t matter now, since—”

  Ari stood up, not listening to me anymore.

  “What about the gemstone known as Corurak?” she asked Kreych. “The rock said to lie at the heart of the amulet? Is that real?”

  “Oh, that? Yeah, sure,” Kreych said, as if he was talking about a chunk of coal, instead of an object so rare there was only one in the entire universe. “That’s very much real. In fact, it’s around here somewhere, among all this junk.”

  “It is?” I asked, getting back to my feet now, too. “Maybe that has some importance?”

  “But how will we find it?” Tiki asked, looking around. “It’ll be like trying to find a purbogging hanklebump among a heap of plorping flembaggers!”

  “Oh, goodness!” Kreych said with a laugh. “The language on this one! Ha-ha! But do not fret, my new acquaintances, for you forget how powerful I am.”

  Kreych held up an open hand.

  A rattling noise echoed inside the chamber, then there was a clattering of gems as they fell to the floor from a huge mound near the far wall. Something stirred within the gemstone pile. A rock roughly the size of a flattened golf ball burst free, showering us in a rain of diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and other precious gems.

  The Corurak landed gently in Kreych’s palm a second later.

  The gem glittered and sparkled in ever-shifting tones of yellows, reds, and blues that dazzled so brilliantly I couldn’t look at it for longer than a few seconds at a time. Now I knew why Stoney was so enamored with tales of its brilliance.

  I had no idea if it had any real powers, but I wanted it now just the same.

  “So, uh, what kind of quest or mission must we go on for you to give that to us?” I asked. “What kind of crazy riddle or puzzle do we need to solve?”

  Kreych laughed again.

  “Here, you can just have it,” he said, tossing me the stone. “It’s quite useless without its companion anyway.”

  “Companion?” I said, looking at the brilliant stone in my hand.

  It was semi-translucent, cold to the touch, and quite heavy. Up close, it almost seemed to be moving inside as it shimmered and constantly changed colors.

  “Yes, well, this stone does indeed have substantial powers,” Kreych said. “But only when paired with its enchanted counterpart can it harness them. A weapon was constructed specifically for this stone long ago. When they were together, they were a symbiotic force of nature, a powerful duo that had no rival, capable of winning wars all on their own. But they were separated many thousands of years ago. Since then, this has become just another rock. A remarkably pretty rock, but still just a rock.”

  “What, uh, what weapon was it made for?” I asked, having a very bad feeling I already knew the answer.

  “That piece of Corurak is an ancient Rune that should fit perfectly inside a legendary Dwarven ax called the Bloodletter,” Kreych said with a smug grin. “A weapon with which you are already quite familiar.”

  I felt like I was going to be sick.

  I’d had part of the solution the entire time, and I’d thrown it into the San Francisco Bay. Like a Dwarf. But actually, most Dwarves would have killed to own that ax. So perhaps I should instead say: I had failed, yet again, in a way that only Greggdroule Stormbelly could.

  “But even if it’s reunited with the Bloodletter,” Edwin said, looking more upset than I’d ever seen him, “it wouldn’t have the power to harness and control magic like the fabled amulet was said to be able to?”

  I’d forgotten that his whole plan to save the world* was crumbling right before him.

  “Well, the true powers of the Rune and the Bloodletter are not fully known,” Kreych admitted. “Not even by me. However, I am fairly certain they would not have the powers to harness magic like that. No earthly objects can control magic the way the Fairies once did.”

  Edwin’s head dropped in defeat, his master plan all but confirmed as impossible.

  “But it would be powerful enough to help us defeat the Verumque Genus and their monsters, right?” Glam asked.

  “Yeah, probably,” Kreych said with a shrug. “I guess.”

  “Great!” Glam said, standing to leave. “Then let’s get out of here! Let’s get back to the real world, find Greg’s missing ax, and then go smash some evil Elves!”

  While I wasn’t as psyched about going to war with a faction of Elves and their savage army of monsters, I did have to admit I felt a surge of relief that we had some hope back on our side. After all, that had been one of our goals in finding the amulet: we wanted to use it to stop the Verumque Genus. Of course, we had hoped to use it to prevent a battle in the first place. But either way, I felt a lot better knowing we could probably at least defeat them in the battle that now seemed inevitable.

  All of this, of course, was dependent on me being able to find the powerful ax I had foolishly thrown away.

  “I’m with Glam,” Ari said, motioning for everyone to get up. “We’re wasting time. We need to get the Bloodletter and this Rune back to the Council.”

  We turned to face the passageway of the cavern, but it was no longer there.

  In its place was the solid rock wall of a sealed cave.

  “You’re right: you don’t have m
uch time,” Kreych said ominously. “The Verumque Genus are gathering their army outside Chicago right now, as we speak, to begin their final assault. But it doesn’t matter. Since, and I do sincerely apologize for this, I can’t let you leave.”

  We spun back around.

  Kreych was smiling, but it was a smile filled with a mixture of sorrow, pain, and bitterness.

  “I’ve been down here all alone for a long, long time,” he said. “Without any companions, aside from my endless knowledge. Do you know how lonely that can be?”

  CHAPTER 37

  One of the Real Heroes of This Story Does Yet Another Quietly Heroic Thing (And No, of Course It’s Not Me)

  You can’t keep us down here forever!” Ari shouted.

  “Yeah, you can’t force us to be your friends,” Glam added. “You’ll have to kill us first!”

  “What?” Kreych said, clearly confused. “No! Oh, no, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong. I don’t want friends. Immortal all-knowing spirit things like me don’t need friends. You would only bore me further, no offense. No, what I really want is to die.”

  “Die?” Lixi repeated.

  “Yes, I want to die,” Kreych confirmed. “I want to finally die.”

  “You want us to, like, kill you?” Foxflame asked. “Plorping bunkle.”

  “Ha-ha!” Kreych said. “I wish it were that simple! No, I am immortal; you cannot kill me.”

  “Then how—” Foxflame started, but the old man cut him off.

  “I’m getting to that if you’d let me talk!” Kreych snapped. “Sheesh. The only way I can be freed from my immortality is if someone takes my place. If someone else becomes the Prophet Ranellewellenar Lightmaster, Keeper of All Time and Existence, Recorder of Life, Guardian of the Earthly Vaults, Warden of the blah, blah, blah. Only then will I finally be released from this curse and able to die in peace!”

  “No, Master!” Blob cried out, sending a new wave of his putrid stench wafting up into the cavern.

  “Yes, dear friend,” Kreych said, covering his nose. “It is finally, mercifully, my time. Now, then, which one of you will take my place as the prophet?”

  Nobody spoke for several long, agonizing seconds.

  “And we’d have to, like, live here in this cave?” Lixi asked.

  “Yes, indeed,” Kreych said. “You would not physically be able to leave ever again. Though, I must say, you will be outside of it, in essence, always, as an all-knowing being. Even right now, as I’m speaking to you, I’m simultaneously witnessing and knowing and seeing everything that is happening everywhere on this planet. It’s kind of a neat trick, really.”

  “And it will be forever?” Foxflame asked.

  “Yes,” Kreych said. “But do not be alarmed. It will only be forever in the sense that it will be for as long as life on this planet remains. Which, at the current rate, probably won’t be for much longer. Perhaps even as few as several hundred years. Even if you solve the planet’s environmental issues, the sun has only about four to five billion years left before it burns out. So in this particular scenario, forever can be only five billion years, maximum. But as I said, it will probably be far, far less than that. See? Not so bad!”

  We all looked around at one another—that sounded like an awful long time to a group of kids who had been alive for an average of fourteen years. It was even a very long time to the three adults: Rhistel, Foxflame, and Wrecking Ball.

  “Let’s draw straws,” Edwin finally suggested. “It’s the only fair way.”

  There was some nodding among the group, as Edwin began looking around for something we could use to either draw straws or pull a random name from a hat.

  But seconds later, another voice spoke softly from the corner:

  “I’ll do it.”

  Everyone fell silent and turned toward the voice.

  “I’ll volunteer to take his place,” Froggy said, stepping forward.

  “No,” Ari gasped. “You don’t have to do that for us.”

  “Yeah!” Glam added, panic in her eyes. “We can draw straws like this Pointer suggested.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Froggy said with a thin smile. “I want to. I can’t stomach the thought of more battles and wars. Of killing anything, whether in self-defense, or in the name of the greater good, or otherwise. It simply isn’t in my nature. Also, I’ve never been, like, a very social person. I enjoy being alone with my thoughts. Here, I can live alone in peace, with all the world’s knowledge, knowing I saved every one of you from a terrible fate . . . at least from your perspectives.”

  The room was silent as the reality of what was about to happen set in.

  Froggy made some good arguments. If this was what he wanted, then it wasn’t our place to try to talk him out of it.

  “You must be sure this is what you want,” Kreych said, though he couldn’t hide the zealous excitement in his eyes. “You acknowledge that it means you must stay in this cave and guard the knowledge and history of this world. Never to leave. Never to see family or friends again.”

  “I understand,” Froggy said quietly, more somber now, but still resolute. “I want to do this. It’s important and worth the sacrifice.”

  “Good, good,” Kreych cooed. “While I’m quite anxious to get on with this so I can finally be done with this wretched life, I shall grant you a few moments to say goodbye to your friends. I know you’ve been through a lot together. The Troll attack on your Underground several months ago was particularly harrowing, I must say!”

  Froggy nodded and faced the group.

  His goodbye to the Elves was short and sweet, since he barely knew them. It consisted mostly of them thanking him profusely for his sacrifice. Edwin took the longest, since they had known each other for years during their time at our old school, the PEE. Edwin leaned in and whispered something to Froggy, who listened and said nothing in return. They shared another short moment, exchanged a small nod, and then Froggy moved on to the Dwarves.

  His goodbye to Lake was brief but meaningful, with both of them smiling over some shared inside joke.

  Froggy hadn’t known Tiki Woodjaw too well. But he appeared to share some bit of advice with her. She nodded, then hugged him and cursed so vulgarly that the Elves flinched.

  Glam told Froggy he was the finest, noblest Dwarf—half, full, or otherwise—that she’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. Or, well, that’s my paraphrased version. What she actually said was gruntier, louder, and far less eloquent as she struggled to not break down crying.

  Froggy spent perhaps the most time saying goodbye to Ari. They both cried and hugged and shared a number of words that I didn’t hear—nor should I have. What was said between Froggy and each individual friend was meant to be between them and only them, and I think we all understood that.

  “Greg,” Froggy said as he faced me last, his eyes already wet and his cheeks streaked with tears. “You’ll never know how much it meant that you were kind to me at the PEE. That you sat with me at lunch, accepted me for who I was, even defended me at times.”

  “Even though me defending you sort of caused all this?” I said, meaning it as a joke, but the words came out choked as a tear ran down to my chin, robbing them of any levity.

  But Froggy chuckled anyway as he wiped his eyes.

  “Please don’t feel bad for me, or think of me as anything but happy,” he said. “I truly want to do this. I’m only crying because I’ll miss talking to you guys.”

  “You mean listening to us talk? And talk. And talk,” I said.

  Froggy laughed again. “Yeah, exactly.”

  “Well, Froggy, I will miss you, too,” I said. “You might be the smartest, kindest, purest kid I’ve ever met. I think this role suits you.”

  “Thanks, Greg,” he said, nodding. “And so does yours. I know you don’t want to be a hero. Or a leader. Or have a destiny or legacy or any of that. But
sometimes your fate isn’t fate at all. Sometimes it’s merely the choice you know you have to make because you’re a good person and want to do the right thing. You will rise up, Greg, and save us all. I know it. Even if you do it reluctantly, or even if it’s an accident, or even if you fail so spectacularly that you unwittingly save the day in the process.” This time it was my turn to laugh and cry at the same time. “However it happens, it will happen.”

  I nodded, unable to tell him he was wrong, and not wanting to in that moment, no matter what I actually believed.

  “One last thing,” Froggy said. “Can you please pass along a message to my dad? I want him to hear in my words why he’s losing his son a second time . . .”

  “Of course,” I said.

  I still have the message Froggy gave me for his dad. I wrote it down, and read it and read it again and again so I had it memorized even though it was also on paper. I wanted to be able to pass it on even if I lost the paper. But I cannot share it with you. I don’t have that right. It’s a sacred, private moment between a father and his long-estranged son, and it’s only for them.

  “Okay, then?” Kreych said somewhat impatiently. “Are we all done now? Can I finally go die in peace like I’ve been dreaming about for the better part of a millennium?”

  “Yes,” Froggy said, facing the old man. “I’m ready. Now what?”

  “Come over here, child,” Kreych said.

  As Froggy approached, Kreych reached out a bony, veiny hand. To his credit, Froggy didn’t step back or even flinch as the old man placed the wrinkled hand on Froggy’s head.

  The prophet then closed his eyes and began speaking an incantation in a low voice. A faint glow appeared between his palm and Froggy’s forehead. He spoke in a language I didn’t recognize. After a short time, Froggy began repeating some of the same words back.

  Then Kreych pulled his hand away, and it was all over.

  A cold silence fell over the cavern as Kreych grinned like he’d had to pee for days and finally just now got to go.