The Adventures of Theophilus Thistle

by David Partelow

  Mr. Dackett offered a polite smile. “Not maliciously, no. But he seems quite content in keeping a certain book in his possession, despite my protests to the contrary.”

  “I don’t understand, Mr. Dackett,” said Mrs. Engleborn as she crossed her arms at her waist. “It is a library, is it not? I have seen my son with the book, he takes very good care of Crescent Moon and returns it on time or pays the late fees. I thought that was how libraries worked.”

  Mr. Dackett licked moisture back to his lips as he searched for the words to make her understand. “That is all fine and true, but you must understand I requested that the book remain in the library due to its age. It is an out of print title that cannot be easily replaced,” he replied.

  “I see,” said Mrs. Engleborn as she absorbed his words. “Matty assured me that he originally found it on the shelves to check out and thought perhaps your actions were part of the banter the two of you shared,” she said.

  Mr. Dackett cleared his throat, adding further gravity to his words. “Be it as it may, Mrs. Engleborn, I would feel better with the book back at the library for safe keeping. Perhaps in the future if your son wishes to read it he can do so under my supervision,” he said.

  “Hmm,” breathed Mrs. Engleborn as she fetched her cup of coffee. She pointed to it to see if Mr. Dackett wanted a cup but he shook his head. “I find this a bit perplexing, Mr. Dackett. But if you wish the book to be returned, I’m sure we can talk to Matty about it,” she said.

  “That would be most helpful, Mrs. Engleborn. Thank you,” said Mr. Dackett.

  “Very well then,” said Mrs. Engleborn before she raised her voice. “Mark, could you come here please,” she hollered.

  Within moments, Mark Engleborn entered the living room. An easy going fellow with a short and tight haircut, the man held enough of a resemblance to his son to raise Mr. Dackett’s blood pressure. Upon seeing the librarian, Mark also smiled and extended his hand to their guest. “Well, Mr. Dackett! This is certainly a surprise. I’m not used to seeing you outside of the library,” he said.

  Mr. Dackett took his hand, doing what he could to hold to his patience. “Always a pleasure, Mr. Engleborn,” he said before releasing Mark’s hand. “I was just discussing the matter of your son with your wife.”

  Mr. Engleborn exchanged a glance with Mrs. Engleborn. “Oh? Is our boy in trouble?”

  Sarah smiled as she filled her husband in on the matter. “It would appear that Mr. Dackett would like to have that book Matty is so fond of safely back at the library, and he has come to fetch it,” she said. Mr. Dackett noted the amusement in her voice as she summed up their conversation.

  Mr. Engleborn chuckled at this. “Well, that must be some book indeed, Mr. Dackett. Maybe our son is right, and you are a fan of fiction after all,” he said merrily.

  Mr. Dackett grimaced. “Not at all. As I was telling your wife, it is the principle of the matter, you see. Rules are rules after all. It is what keeps us in order through the chaos,” he said.

  Husband and wife exchanged another humorous glance as Mr. Engleborn replied. “I see, Mr. Dackett. Well if it is of great importance to you, I suppose we should see the book back into your hands at once,” he said.

  A wave of relief filled Mr. Dackett, grateful that the Engleborns would see the reason in his reasoning. “I cannot thank you both enough for your help in this unfortunate misunderstanding,” he offered as he pointed to their family picture again. “And I know your boy is rambunctious, but I try not to hold it against him. He will grow out of such things one day, I’m certain,” he said.

  “Let’s hope not,” said Sarah with a polite grin.

  “Indeed,” said Mr. Dackett as he looked about. “Well, if you don’t mind calling for the boy, I will reclaim the book and be on my way and out of your hair at once.”

  “Well that’s just the thing,” said Mr. Engleborn.

  Mr. Dackett’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  Mr. Engleborn held out his hands apologetically. “Well, it appears that Matty felt you might have been taking the good fun too personally lately, so he asked me to drop him off at the library about half an hour ago. I am afraid you just missed him,” he said.

  Mr. Dackett clenched his free hand into a fist and gripped his cane till the knuckles on both hands nearly shook. “He’s at the library?”

  Mr. Engleborn nodded. “Waiting for you apparently,” he offered before he motioned to his garage. “Did you walk here? Would you like me to drive you back up there?”

  Collecting himself, Mr. Dackett shook his head. “No, that won’t be necessary,” he said as he headed to the door. “I am sorry for taking up your time.”

  Mr. Engleborn smiled as he followed Mr. Dackett to the door. “Not at all. It was good to see you, despite the circumstances. I’m sure when you get back, you and Matty will have this whole thing worked out. He’s a good kid after all and he would never do anything to harm that book or any other,” he said.

  “Indeed,” said Mr. Dackett as he tightened his coat once more and offered the couple a nod. “Mr. and Mrs. Engleborn, I wish you a good day,” he added as he took his leave.

  “Happy hunting, Mr. Dackett,” offered Sarah as she and her husband waved and closed the door.

  Now free of the Engleborns, Mr. Dackett growled his frustration. His enemy had been one step ahead of him again. Somehow, Mathias knew that Mr. Dackett was coming for him and had beat him to the punch. And now Mr. Dackett felt like fool in front of the parents of his enemy. He wondered if the day could get any worse.

  Just then, the skies opened at last and unleashed a torrent of unrelenting water. Looking upon it, Mr. Dackett shook his head. Grunting curses of misery to himself, the old man buttoned his coat fully and raised the collar up. And as he stepped out and felt the rain crash upon his raincoat, Mr. Dackett held a vision of his tormenter in his mind to fuel his steps.

  “Mathias,” he spat, shaking his head as he pushed forward into the storm.

  Sitting comfortably within the library, Mathias Engleborn heard the brewing storm finally unleash its full fury outside. Merciless raindrops raged, rumbling coarsely as they threw themselves unchecked upon the city. At the sound and thought of it, he grimaced, for Mathias knew the greater storm was now heading back to the library. A text from his mother had confirmed that. Rubbing at the aged cover of the book called Crescent Moon, Mathias shook his head.

  “Well, this isn’t going to be pretty,” he said with a chuckle as he prepared for the inevitable.

  “If you thought it was war before, just wait till he gets back,” said a familiar, annoyed voice.

  Turning to the direction of the annoyed, Mathias grinned at his friend Heidi. She looked between the rain outside and him, shaking her head as she did. Mathias knew this rivalry between him and Mr. Dackett was giving her fits and was grateful that his friendship and mother’s desserts kept her on his side. “Hey, it’s not my fault he was stubborn enough to venture out in this weather. He should have known better,” he replied.

  “Well, Captain Ahab should have known better too, but look what happened to him,” countered Heidi. She looked ever and always intelligent and aloof under her sharp gaze and brightly dyed hair. Her choice this week was a deep, resounding purple.

  Mathias held out his hands, offering a wry grin. “Is it bad that I am honored and unnerved to somehow be Mr. Dackett’s white whale in that reference?”

  Heidi snorted. “Of course, cause Moby Dick won in the end, but I wouldn’t be so sure of victory with Dackett. I don’t know what he is obsessed with more: thwarting you or that infernal book you both continue to squabble over,” she said.

  Mathias shrugged as he sat back in his seat. “I prefer to call my plight an epic struggle for readers far and wide,” he said in reply. His earnest smile and careless hair somehow made his friend love and hate him at the same time.

  Heidi was still unconvinced, however. “Call it what you want. I certainly don’t wa
nt to be in your shoes when Mr. Dackett gets back,” she said.

  “Or his,” countered Mathias. “He is likely going to be soaked to the bone.”

  “Laugh it up while you can, Engleborn. We may be out of the rain, but you have called down a storm of your own,” said Heidi.

  Mathias motioned at the table before him. “Hey, I am just a library patron, seeking shelter from the rain and using the time to broaden my horizons and expand my mind,” he offered.

  “Whatever you say, weirdo,” said Heidi as she looked about the library. “I’ve got to get back to the counter. Try to enjoy your last few moments of life before Mr. Dackett gets back. And when he does, remember I had no part in this.”

  Mathias grinned triumphantly. “And yet, neither did you say anything to halt him from his present misery,” he challenged.

  Heidi shrugged. “That’s different. I’m merely a neutral party today, but it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the drama as it unfolds. Besides, if a shower like this doesn’t cool Dackett’s jets, then nothing will.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Mathias as he pointed at Heidi with a grin. The young man then leaned forward, setting his intentions deeply upon the book of Crescent Moon.

  Heidi let her impatience bleed out for the moment. “So, are you finally going to confess what the big fuss is all about with this book or what? Is it an inside joke or something?”

  Looking up with an apologetic smile, Mathias shook his head. “Again, my friend and proclaimed neutral party, the less you know the better. You think me and Mr. Dackett mad already, so let’s not compound the issue,” he replied.

  “I am surrounded by nutjobs. Insanity is my burden. Super,” mumbled Heidi as she turned from Mathias and headed to the counter.

  Mathias watched his friend go, grinning at her dismay. Keeping her thinking it was all some silly game was much easier than the truth. If she thought things were crazy now, Mathias could only imagine the fallout of revealing the true nature of Crescent Moon. No, it was best to leave her in the dark, at least for now. Apparently it was the one thing he and Mr. Dackett could agree on.

  Now alone at his table, Mathias returned his full attention to Crescent Moon. The ancient book had called to him again and the urgency was greater than before. Yet Mathias had caught wind of Mr. Dackett’s intentions and needed to buy some time to read once more. With such time afforded to him now, the young man drew a deep breath and opened the cover, happy to see the familiar words waiting for him like a vigilant guardsman.

  The way you seek is but a door

  In words, you read and mold the key

  To paths reborn forevermore

  An answer dwells there, still and true

  The surest path to Crescent Moon

  Is forged upon belief in you

  Mathias smiled at these words, for he now understood they meant so much more than their confines of six lines. “Hello, my friend,” he whispered as he looked about, satisfied that he was to be left alone and had drawn no attention. “It’s good to see you too.” He then placed his hand on the page, willing his intent upon the book so that he could reveal the rest of the key, words he now knew easily by heart.

  Wars must be waged, and battles fought

  Where heroes stand with conscience clear

  As Light against the growing Dark

  To face the blight and rising doom

  With the Dreamer stand above all fear

  And hold the fate at Crescent Moon

  With these words spoken, Mathias was joyed to see the ancient book come alive for him again. Getting comfortable, he allowed these unfolding words to absorb his focus once more as Mathias was pulled back into the land of Lunaria and its magical inhabitants.

  Chapter One

  The Fireborn Citadel

  The night was reluctantly waning over the Saelen Kingdom, almost as if darkness battled the Firestar for dominance. For the moment, the many creatures of the land etched closer to wakefulness while others made use of the dwindling moonlight. For while these were still the lands full of defenders of the light, those that challenged such claims lurked ever in the shadows, biding their time, waiting for their day.

  Waiting for Moreg.

  One such devotee of the darkness rushed cautiously through the Shadowpine Forest, suspicious of watchful eyes. The corrupted lilac flower was a proud servant of Moreg’s Hand, eager to bolster the strength of his master. Currently he made his way through the wilderness, back to the Gnarled Fang Butte that held his home and brethren, the secret lair known as the Fireborn Citadel. Holding his little sword in hand, he used the dwindling cover of night to return to the clutches of evil.

  Satisfied that he was not being watched, the lilac flower motioned to the shadows. “The coast is clear. This way,” he instructed through firm whispers.

  Slowly, a yellow daffodil flower emerged, looking about with careful eyes. Doing as he was bid, the daffodil rushed to the lilac as both again assured they were not being followed. Delighted, the lilac lowered his sword, nodding to the daffodil that all was well. The daffodil relaxed some, looking at the lilac expectantly for his next command.

  Pleased, the lilac whispered to the daffodil. “I think we are in the clear now, Savren. I must commend you on your stealth abilities,” said the lilac.

  The daffodil called Savren nodded to the lilac. “Thank you, Hensan. And thank you for this honor. I look forward to proving myself to Moreg and his ranks,” he said.

  Hensan nodded to him. “You have done well to amaze me with your skills. Your abilities with a blade are impressive. Norrex has a liking to our kind and our abilities to traverse the lands undetected,” he said.

  “What can you tell me about Norrex, Hensan?” asked Savren. “His name has always carried reverence on the winds.”

  At this, the lilac chuckled. “The Deathshade is without peer. Whatever you have heard in terms of his power were likely a fraction of his true capabilities. But you shall see soon enough. We are almost to our destination. You have proven yourself to me and soon you can pledge yourself to him. In that, the world will open to you like never before,” he said.

  “I truly cannot wait,” said Savren.

  The two flowers walked in silence, stopping periodically to check their surroundings. Only the chirping bugs and occasional sprite offered much in sound. Soon the birds and fairies would begin their songs, and Hensan wished them to be out of the sight of the Firestar when this happened. The lilac flower was thrilled to be homeward bound and even more pleased with his acquisition.

  Making quiet conversation, Hensan spoke softly to his recruit. “What drew you to the order, Savren?” he asked.

  Savren replied, trying to withhold enthusiasm. “I long for truth and the true justice that is deserved upon these lands. And when the possibility of meeting Norrex and his army came my way, it was impossible to pass up. It’s a great fortune that I found you, Hensan. I’m eternally grateful for your counsel and approval.”

  The lilac chuckled softly, still flush with pride. “It was easy to claim with your skills,” said Hensan. “I am pleased. Norrex will be pleased. And in this, our true master will be pleased,” he said as he pointed toward their destination. “What you will soon see is a haven of power, yet it is merely a glimpse of things to come. Treasure in the knowledge that you chose correctly and will be a guiding force in Moreg’s Hand.

  “Then let us not waste another second,” said Savren.

  Walking a spell longer, Hensan at last stopped as they cleared a dense lick of forest. He took pride in seeing Savron halt in his tracks as his eyes set upon the Fireborn Citadel. A towering stronghold of fortified rock carved into the butte that held it, the citadel was highly active despite the early morning hour. Henson let Savron stare on for a few more moments before breaking the fixation.

  “I told you it was glorious,” said Hensan proudly.

  The daffodil nodded. “It truly is a sight to behold, Hensan,” he said. “It is exactly what I needed to see. Thank y
ou for this, for you have been most helpful.”

  “And this is only the beginning,” said Hensan.

  Savren nodded. “Well yes and no,” he replied with a shrug. “It is definitely a beginning, but it is the end of our journey together,” said the daffodil.

  Hensan narrowed his eyes, confused as he kept his blade at the ready. “What are you getting at, Savren?” he demanded.

  Savren smiled at him. “I simply mean you have done your job, and this is where we must part ways, for you have your duty and I have mine,” he said. The flower made a quick, sudden move, hurling a cluster of thorns at Hensan. The lilac was able to block one with his sword, but three struck his body. Hensan fell to his knees, feeling woozy almost immediately.

  Confused, he looked up at Savren. “What have you done?” he rasped.

  The daffodil looked at him sagely. “What I must, the same as you,” he said. Savren then grabbed at his billowy yellow petals before giving them a harsh yank.

  Hensan watched, mortified as an obvious costume was stripped from who he knew as Savren. Suddenly the familiar features of a milk thistle weed stared down upon the lilac. Shaking his head as his purple thistles flowed freely again, a confident, notorious weed offered the corrupted lilac a grin and a wink.

  “Theophilus Thistle,” breathed Hensan.

  “At your service,” said Theophilus with a curt bow. “You must forgive my deception, but I assure you it was necessary. It took some time to find a vile flower as trusting as you. But alas, I shall let you live the encounter and we shall call it even, what say you?”

  Anger rushed through Hensan as quickly as the sleeping agent Theophilus had placed upon his thorns. “You will pay for this,” he growled, willing strength to his limbs as he stood again.

  Theophilus nodded. “Oh, I wholly concur. I intend to pay Norrex and his band back everything I owe them and more,” he offered.