Atticus And The Orb Of Time

by M K Drake

  With a cough and a splurt the figure rises from his slumber. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he shuts the curtains to block the moonlight, returning the room to darkness.

  “Issssssssssss the boy ready?” a voice slithers out from behind him. He immediately spins around to see the face of a beast with seven serpent heads inside the mirror.

  The lone figure hides his face in the darkness, “Not yet, Herensugue, but he is close. One more push and he will be ready for the ceremony.”

  “Ah. You realisssssse that our masssster growssssss impatient,” hisses Herensugue.

  “Yes, but I only need a few more days. We can then present the boy to our master,” replies the lone figure.

  “I’m sssurprisssed you have sssssurvived this long without detection. Do the Majjai sssssussspect?”

  “Not at all, there are a few who have been tasked with searching for a traitor, but they are following a few false paths; I prepared for just such a situation. But it does mean we need to move quickly,” the lone figure says, purposely keeping out of the light emanating from the mirror’s projection, “Will you be accompanying Alvarez for the… uhum… surprise?”

  “I ssssssssshall. Have the boy there. We will usssse tomorrow’sss eventss asss a dissstraction,” says Herensugue.

  “Very good, I will ensure the boy is there. I will remain hidden until the time is right,” the lone figure returns to his bed, “Now, leave me be, before they detect your Magic here.”

  The mirror pales to darkness again while the lone figure returns to his rest.

  “I know you are here boy,” says the traitor in the darkness, “I can sense you.”

  Atticus wakes instantly, finding himself in his own bed, but he still hears the voice in his mind.

  “Your end will come, Atticus. You’re weak, and so are your Majjai friends. The time for demons is near.”

  Atticus shuts his eyes tight, trying to push the voice out of his mind.

  “You can’t get away that easily,” says the traitor.

  “Leave the boy be, traitor!” another voice enters the fray, and Atticus feels his mind freed again. He looks around, searching for a clue to the identity of the voice that saved him, but there is nothing, no sign, no voices, just silence. Could that have been the protector? Atticus thinks to himself. His voice is familiar, he thinks it is the same one he heard when the shadow figure appeared to him in Professor Snugglebottom’s class.

  “Thank you,” says Atticus, hoping the protector is able to hear him. Relieved with his rescue, Atticus promises himself to be much more careful with this gift of insight and sleeps soundly for the night, wondering how to inform Elric of this latest incident.

  A Majjai History, Vol 1 Chapter 14: The Age of Transition

  There have been many rumours of a third realm; one that is said is to be filled with creatures of fantasy. These creatures once existed in the Earth realm; mortals knew them as such creatures as unicorns, dragons, elves, fairies, and mermaids.

  The Age of Transition fell just after the disappearance of both Kazmagus and Asmodei. The rise of Razakel forced these mythical creatures to find somewhere else to exist safely. It is rumoured that they left to nurture a new realm, hidden from mortal and demon, one where only mythical and Majjai may enter. The doorway to this realm has never been found − and though it has been prophesied that a Majjai queen will emerge to rule this realm, at the time of this writing, her identity is still unknown.

  In the Earth realm, the Age of Transition brought many challenges. The demonic factions, led by Razakel, spread across the globe. They instilled hatred into man’s hearts, causing conflicts born from prejudice and ignorance. Other intrusions were more direct; they often had running battles with Majjai soldiers, killing any mortal that stood in the way. These were dark times until the emergence of the Majjai Six. This small band of warriors united the Majjai. They began to take the fight back to the Demonic hordes. The tide had begun to turn, and stability found its way throughout the Earth realm.

  Chapter 20

  The Attack

  The sports hall erupts in uniform applause. Joseph and Sophia danced and dazzled in a routine that surprised everyone, including Atticus. Joyce sits next to him, whistling and cheering as loud as anyone.

  “They were very good, Atticus!” says Joyce, “Best of the night! If they don’t win, it will be a travesty.”

  Joseph and Sophia soak up every ounce of the rapture surrounding them before exiting the dance floor beneath a large screen replaying their routine.

  “You did soooo well, JJ, baby!” says Sophia, breathing heavily from the excitement of the crowd.

  The Burrows’ are also there. Bradley’s dad looks like a much larger and meaner version of his son. Bradley’s mum looks like her son, albeit with longer hair and a slightly puffier rosy-cheeked pout.

  Joyce and Atticus leave their seats and head to the makeshift backstage to meet up with Joseph and Sophia. Navigating through the stacked benches and seats is not easy. When they finally reach the rear, Joseph and Sophia have changed into another set of evening wear, preparing for the announcement of the results.

  Joyce gives Sophia a great big hug, “That was so cool. You guys owned that dance floor!”

  Atticus does a strange handshake with Joseph, while Joyce looks at them both like they are fresh from the loony bin.

  “Secret handshake,” Sophia acknowledges to Joyce.

  “Men!” replies Joyce.

  “Indeed,” says Sophia, “Joseph and I are going to go to dinner straight after this; think we deserve it after all the hard work. I’ve already spoken to your parents, Joyce, and they said they will pick you up from our house a little later. Marcellus is there already and has offered to stay until your parents arrive.”

  Joyce nods, glad that she will get some extra time to spend with Atticus. Sophia and Joseph return to the main arena. A gaggle of other contestants also take to the stage, all dressed in their finest. Sophia dazzles again; even her walk mesmerises Joseph.

  Atticus is still a little taken aback. He was expecting a small amateur affair for this competition, but instead, the event is being held in a decent sized indoor auditorium − about three hundred seats filled with members of the local community who all now appear to be dance fans.

  The host returns to the centre stage and begins his announcement.

  “Ladies and gentlemen! Firstly, let me thank you all once again for coming, we are very impressed with the turn out, and your support for our charity this afternoon. The proceeds will all be going to the local children’s hospital,” the crowd claps in acknowledgement, “I now have an envelope here, with the names of tonight’s winners,” the crowd is silent, a few cheers come out for some of the dance couples, but Joyce and Atticus stay quiet, excited for the result.

  “In 3rd Place, and winners of the 2-minute free shopping spree at the Fresco supermarket, Greta and Paul Green!”

  The crowd claps and whistles. The host waits for the crowd to settle before continuing, “In 2nd Place, and winners of the Eurostar and weekend break to Paris, Sarah and Harry Trottleworth!”

  The crowd applaud again, even louder, “In 3rd place… sorry, already done that,” the audience chuckles and waits with baited breath for the announcement, “In 1st Place, and winners of a top-of-the-range home entertainment system including a 55" LED TV, surround sound system, Blu Ray disc player, stereo hi fi, and a weekend at a top London Spa…” Joseph and Sophia hold each other's hands tightly as they wait for the announcer to call out the names; all Atticus can think about is watching his favourite science fiction movies through the new home cinema, “…Joseph and Sophia Jones!!!”

  The entire hall erupts in unanimous applause, whistles bounce off the walls and some people who brought party poppers make the reaction even more colourful.

  Atticus and Joyce are jumping up and down, before running out to congratulate them, “Dibs on the TV, Dad!” says Atticus.

  Joseph smiles, “Oi! Win your own dance comp
etition, and then we’ll talk.”

  The host hands the trophy to Joseph and Sophia as the audience continue to cheer. Atticus and Joyce lead them off the main arena floor before they all go deaf.

  “Right, we’ll see you guys later then,” says Sophia her eyes still bright with excitement, “We’re going to get changed and be off for dinner.”

  Joseph hands the trophy to Atticus to take home. Sophia calls to make sure that Marcellus is at their house, and gives Atticus a quick hug before seeing them out.

  “Your parents are really sweet, Atticus,” says Joyce as they exit the arena complex.

  “Yeah, I’m lucky. Still haven’t met yours though,” replies Atticus, “When did they get back from their trip?”

  “A few days back, but I hardly see them. They are always so busy. Auntie Blossom is great though, and she is an awesome cook − you’d like her pancakes,” teases Joyce.

  “Well, I hope the school nerd in me doesn’t embarrass you when I finally meet them,” says Atticus.

  “You’re no nerd, silly,” says Joyce, holding Atticus’ hand, “Come now, we need to get back.”

  The late afternoon sunshine is crisp with the onset of the colder season; both Atticus and Joyce are wrapped warmly in scarves and thick coats. Winter is beginning to take hold, and the few animals that ignore the lure of hibernation can be seen busily scurrying for food to hoard. As Joyce and Atticus crunch through the frosted grass, some of the animals behind them scurry away, not for food, but to escape something else. The two young Majjai are unaware they are being followed.

  Unbeknownst to Atticus, Bradley Burrows has managed to escape the watchful eye of his parents and has gathered his little team to track down Atticus and Joyce. They circle round ahead of them, and lie in wait.

  Joyce pauses for a moment, “Shhhh, Atticus, I think I hear something,” she whispers. She puts her hand on his arm, “Remember, our powers have to be kept secret.”

  “Oi, Jones!” screams Bradley as he and his little gang swarm out from behind a fence, “Your friends aren’t around to save you now.”

  Atticus holds Joyce’s arm, and guides her to stand behind him, “Go away, Bradley, we’re not looking for any trouble.”

  “Well, trouble seems to be looking for you,” replies Bradley.

  Before Atticus can respond, Bradley throws a powerful punch towards him. Atticus sidesteps and pulls Joyce out of the way just in time. Bradley trips over Atticus’ trailing leg.

  “Look, Bradley, let’s just call things even yeah?” says Atticus, quietly confident that the training he has had recently is just enough to keep his one-time nemesis at bay. The fact that Bradley’s minions are giggling at the sight of their leader wriggling on the ground after being tripped already bolsters Atticus’ own confidence of his ability.

  Bradley gets up again, even angrier, throws another punch, and a kick, followed by several more punches. Atticus simply dodges them all, and blocks a few for good measure, always making sure that there is a safe distance between them and Joyce.

  At this point Bradley is seething with rage − his little group are in hysterics at the sight of Bradley not getting anywhere, almost stripping away their own fear of him. Bradley sees this, and the loss of control begins to add fuel to the fire of his already angered state, “Jones!” he yells as loud as he can, “I’m going to kill you!”

  With those words, everything goes silent; as Bradley’s gang realises that Bradley has overstepped the mark. They turn and walk away without even looking back, Bradley hears the faintest of words as they disappear − “Loser,” still angry, all he can think about is revenge. His head stays bowed, rage building, it soon reaches the summit of his ability to contain it, “Arrrrrggghhhh!” he screams, looking around him, Atticus and Joyce have long run away; he sees them in the distance, but before he can give chase, someone behind him startles him.

  “Burrows!” says a sharp voice, “Causing trouble again are we?”

  Bradley spins around to see a familiar figure, “No professor, just…”

  “Jones annoying you again, eh? Should never have told you about that insulting picture he drew of you earlier this year,” says the Professor.

  “It’s worse than that, sir. I hate him,” replies Bradley.

  “So I could hear. I think you need to calm down a little. I have something for you back at the manor; meet me there in half an hour. And here is one of those chocolate bars you like so much, make sure you finish it before you get to my office,” the professor says, turning his back to Bradley and walking away before a response can be received.

  Bradley kicks the ground and walks away, fists clenched, punching every bush on his route, but the anger remains unrelenting, in fact it grows ever more, with every tasty bite of chocolate.

  # # #

  Atticus and Joyce run around a corner, gasping for breath.

  “Is he gone?” gasps Joyce.

  “Yeah, he was talking to someone, couldn’t see who it was, though,” pants Atticus, “Whoever it was, they gave us the time to get away.”

  “We better get to your house in case he comes back,” says Joyce.

  They get home quickly. Atticus opens the door with his key and calls out to Marcellus, but there is no reply.

  “Don’t think he is here,” says Atticus.

  “Strange,” says Joyce, “Your mum said she called to check he was here.”

  The phone rings before Atticus can reply. He rushes to it and answers.

  “Hello?” he says, tentatively.

  Joyce waits for Atticus to finish the call before asking who it was.

  “Elric needs us at the manor straight away; some sort of revelation,” says Atticus, “I’ll leave a note for Mum and Dad. Elric says he is sending a car to pick us up.”

  “Really?” smiles Joyce, “I think you are going to enjoy this.”

  “What?” asks Atticus.

  “Elric only ever sends one car,” replies Joyce, “He calls it Spitfire.”

  Atticus raises an eyebrow. He quickly finishes his note, and changes into jeans and a black shirt. The huge roar of an engine catches his attention. He peers out of the upstairs window and spies a long black car, with giant air scoops and giant alloy wheels, “Cool,” he thinks to himself.

  “The car’s here!” shouts Joyce from downstairs.

  Atticus runs down, and almost rushes straight pass Joyce in his excitement to get a better look at Spitfire. He runs down the driveway, leaving Joyce to close the front door.

  “Men,” scoffs Joyce, a little more annoyed as she has now said that twice in one day.

  Atticus stands in front of Spitfire, his jaw agape. He has never seen such a car before; it certainly isn’t from any manufacturer known to him. The grille is large and of blacked-out metal, there are small strips of chrome on the side and the wheel arches protrude like a beefed-up muscle car. The wheels are also blacked out; the enormous brake callipers can just be seen behind the 20" multi-spoke alloys. Atticus walks around the back of the car and spies four large exhaust pipes, two on each side. The car rumbles, and a jet of flame shoots out of the pipes.

  “Are you getting in or not?” says a deep, rumbling voice.

  “Who said that?” asks Atticus.

  “I did,” says the voice again. Spitfire opens one of his doors.

  “Hi, Spitfire, how are you?” says Joyce, nudging Atticus on her way into the car.

  Atticus is gob-smacked, “The car talks?”

  Joyce giggles, “Come on, Pancake Man, we have to get to the manor. Get in.”

  “The car talks,” whispers Atticus, still amazed, as he steps in.

  “I am honoured to finally meet you, Atticus,” says Spitfire.

  “Wow, this is so cool,” says the young Majjai as he sinks into the sumptuous red leather seats, “So, are you like, alive?”

  “I can explain,” says Joyce, “Spitfire was created by Elric to embody the spirit of Barmak, one of the original Majjai Six whose spirit had been withdrawn from hi
s body by an unknown energy and held in a state similar to limbo. Elric rescued Barmak and with the aid of the Mecha Knights, created this vessel for him to inhabit. There should be a chapter about it in the book on Majjai History that Professor Morgan gave you.”

  “Uhum,” says Spitfire, “Yes, he chose my new name as well. Which I do rather like. Now, shall we take the low road or the high road?”

  “Let’s show Atticus what you can do,” says Joyce, “The high road, please.”

  “Very well. I should cloak first, I think,” says Spitfire.

  “Naaah, it’s quiet around here, let’s make some noise,” says Joyce.

  “As you wish,” replies Spitfire as he revs his engine to move off.

  Joyce looks around to make sure no one is looking, “It’s clear.”

  Spitfire roars down the road. Before they reach the end, a pair of wings morph out of the rear wheel arches; the vehicle body has turned into a liquid alloy state, fluidly changing form, with the rear spoiler growing taller. In a matter of seconds they are soaring through the air with Atticus screaming in delight.

  They reach the manor in moments, Atticus still screaming. Spitfire lands on one of the towers closest to Elric’s chamber, “I hope to be of service again one day, Atticus,” he says.

  “So do I,” Atticus is unable to stop grinning.

  Joyce tugs at Atticus’ shirt, “Stop gawping, will you; we need to get to the chamber quickly.”

  They run so fast, that they find little time to wonder why the main doors to the Majjai section of the Manor are standing wide open.

  “That’s odd,” says Joyce, “Those doors are never left open like that.”

  “We can ask Elric when we get there,” replies Atticus, as they close the doors and continue their race to the chamber.

  They finally reach Elric’s room and knock.

  “Enter,” says Elric, who they see sitting at the head of a large oval table at the far end of the room. Professors Morgan and Sprocking and the rest of the Majjai Six are also there and waiting patiently for Joyce and Atticus to take their places.