Balance Keepers #1: The Fires of Calderon

by Lindsay Cummings

  Trey lowered his chin in Leroy’s direction.

  “One thing I can promise you right now,” Trey answered. “You’re definitely not going to want to leave.”

  With that, Trey reached over to the door, slipped his hand through the crack, and pulled it wide open.

  Albert had lived in the country with his dad and the city with his mom, so he’d known what it was like to bounce between two very different worlds. But now he’d entered a third kind of world, and as the doors opened wide, Albert felt his jaw drop.

  It was like he’d stepped into the world of a fantasy video game.

  The room—no, the cave—was as tall as it was wide, and as Albert stared up at the massive iron chandelier that hung from the ceiling, he began to feel impossibly small.

  It wasn’t just the hugeness of the cave that surprised him. It was the fact that it was full of people. Hundreds of them. They were normal looking, not dressed in warlock cloaks or miner’s hats, but in average clothes like shorts and T-shirts, though some of the shirts did have special markings. They all seemed to be wearing boots identical to the ones in Albert’s pack.

  People were crisscrossing the floor in all directions like ants single-mindedly fulfilling their tasks. Some of them carried round maps. Some wore hard hats and had grease stains on their faces. A boy with a broom moved past, sweeping up dust on the cave floor. A group of kids ran by, laughing and chasing one another.

  Albert knew he would never forget what happened next: The whole place went so still and quiet Albert could hear his own breathing. Everyone stopped and stared at Albert and his new friends. And then, after getting a good look at the new recruits, they all went back to whatever it was they were doing.

  “Do I have bed head or something?” Albert asked, matting his hair down in case it was poking out in seven different directions.

  “Well at least it’s not full of cyclopses and monsters,” Leroy said. He wiped off his glasses, as if to make sure what he was seeing in the cave was really there. “I was worried about that.”

  “Me too,” Birdie said, glancing up at Leroy. “And I hate cyclopses. Like, for real.”

  As Albert watched, he noticed that some of the people wore necklaces, thick, black cords on which hung white Tiles with black symbols. They looked like the very same Tiles that Pap and the porch buddies played with outside the post office. Odd, Albert thought, but not entirely surprising, now that I think about it.

  He tried to watch specific people, but everyone walked in different directions, some disappearing down smaller, dimly lit tunnels that vanished into darkness.

  Leroy nudged Albert. “I want one of those,” he said, and pointed to a boy holding a giant three-pronged fork with blue goo oozing from its tips. “What is this place?”

  Trey followed Leroy’s gaze out into the chaos, a sly look on his face.

  “You’ve arrived in the Main Chamber of the Core,” he said, stepping past Albert, Leroy, and Birdie with his hands spread wide. “You’re many miles under the surface of the earth.”

  “It’s so . . . ,” Albert started, but he couldn’t find the words to describe how incredible it all was.

  “The Core tends to leave new arrivals speechless,” Trey said. “You’re not the first.”

  A boy with floppy blond hair and a silver-gray T-shirt ran past. A silver bird with long, curly feathers that stretched to the floor sat on his shoulder.

  “Newbies!” the boy shouted, as he gave Albert a high five. “Sweet!”

  The boy crossed over an old, stone bridge that arched to a high point in the middle, like the tip of a triangle. A glittering silver stream ran beneath it. Albert scanned the room. The streams jutted outward in different directions from a massive iron wheel that spun slowly in the very middle of the cave floor. The streams ran toward three doors, under which they seemed to disappear. Each of the doors had its own unique symbol embedded into it—like a symbol on a Tile, but these were far larger, far more ornate, as if they had been carved long ago by someone with very skilled hands.

  “The water is one of the many things you’ll love about the Core,” Trey said, noticing Albert’s eyes growing wide at the sight of two boys diving into the depths of a shimmering pool. Trey pointed out the three doors, right where each meandering stream ended and disappeared into the cave walls. “You’ll learn about what lies behind them, soon enough.”

  The same wide pipes they’d seen in the Path Hider’s room were scattered like vines across the walls and ceiling. Buttons and wheels and strange knobs were all over the walls.

  Trey started to lead Albert and his friends through the Core. Suddenly, some sort of giant creature ran past. Birdie let out a little shriek.

  It was an oversized black cat, and at the sound of Birdie’s voice, the creature turned. It stared at her with three yellow eyes the size of Ping-Pong balls. It started to purr, the sound so loud it reminded Albert of a motorcycle starting up in the city.

  “He’s Professor Asante’s companion creature,” Trey said. “Best not to touch him, or look into his eyes for too long. Cats can be unpredictable.”

  There was, it seemed, an endless array of fantastical things in the Core.

  “What’s that?” Albert heard himself ask, pointing at a strange cloud of blue dust that erupted when a girl threw something small and silver across the cave.

  “Are those monkeys hanging from the ceiling, or something else?” Leroy asked.

  “Is that a talking frog?” Birdie asked from Albert’s right.

  Trey shook his head and smiled.

  “All your questions will be answered in due time,” he said, herding the three of them along like lost children. He looked toward the high ceiling as if it might tell him the time. “It would be best not to show up late for your introduction. First impressions are only made once.”

  Albert fell in step with the rest of them and thought about what a strange day he’d had. The Core had been here all this time, with all these people, right under Herman . . . and Albert had never known about it. Judging by the looks on Leroy’s and Birdie’s faces, they hadn’t either. It was like discovering a hidden treasure in the attic of your own house—always there, but not quite visible unless you really looked.

  “This way, this way.” Trey’s voice pulled Albert back to attention.

  They headed down a long, barely lit tunnel, away from the noise of the people rushing about. Farnsworth appeared again, running past Albert’s untied shoelace, and stopped before a closed door.

  “Now listen carefully,” Trey said, bending down to scratch behind Farnsworth’s ears. The dog’s eyes lit up as he barked happily. “When you go in, show some respect. The Professor is always busy. But he’s set aside time just for you.”

  “Who’s the Professor?” Leroy asked, fixing his baseball cap just so on top of his head.

  Trey thought a moment before answering. “You might say he’s my boss. You’ll be learning quite a lot from him.”

  Oh, great, Albert thought. It’s summer, and we’re about to have professors?

  Trey turned away from them and knocked lightly on the door. Then he opened it just enough to slip inside, and left them standing in the tunnel alone.

  “Still think we made the right choice?” Leroy asked as the door closed behind Trey. Farnsworth yipped up at them, as if he’d understood the question.

  “Farnsworth thinks the place is all right,” Birdie said, and reached down to pet the dog’s soft fur. The dog thumped his tail and licked Birdie’s hand. “At first I wasn’t so sure. A place like this shouldn’t exist. But I’m totally glad it does.”

  “And now we’re all here,” Leroy mused, smiling at her as he touched one of the cool, blue flames on the wall beside them. “It’s like magic.”

  Birdie nodded. “Do you guys believe in magic? I didn’t think I did, until today.”

  Albert nodded, and pointed at Farnsworth’s glowing eyes. “If that’s not magic, if this whole place isn’t magic, then I don’t know what
is.”

  The door creaked open in front of them, and they all whirled around. Trey poked his head out.

  “The Professor will see you now.”

  One by one they filed through the door, Farnsworth right on Albert’s heels.

  Albert had seen a lot of strange things today. He’d even felt like he was floating inside of a dream. But what lay behind the door took his breath away all over again.

  Across the room, a glowing blue waterfall tumbled out of an impossibly high ceiling, water pooling on the cave floor. Bright yellow-and-purple birds danced around the waterfall, singing a lively song that made Albert wish he’d worked a little harder in choir class.

  “Whoa,” Leroy said, or at least, that’s what Albert thought he said. The sound of the rumbling water was so loud he couldn’t really be sure. Albert followed Farnsworth, Leroy, and Birdie across a raised pathway, closer to the waterfall, where a fine mist landed on Albert’s freckled nose.

  The pathway led behind the waterfall and Farnsworth darted ahead, running off to greet whoever—or whatever—lay hidden behind a series of curved walls. Albert’s heart started to beat faster, like the times when he’d seen scary movies. He felt like something awful would jump out from behind each corner he passed.

  It wasn’t the boogeyman around the corner, though.

  Behind an ancient oak desk sat a man in a shimmering green jacket. He was scribbling something on a long piece of parchment paper.

  The man looked up, set the pen down, and smiled.

  Albert gulped. “Dad?”

  CHAPTER 7

  Professor Bob Flynn

  As far as Albert was concerned, Bob Flynn had always been an average, vanilla-variety dad. Bob spent eight hours a day delivering mail. On weekends he read books and fought a losing battle with Pap for the best recliner in the house. Did it get more average than that?

  Bob Flynn could not be spending his days in the Core, miles under the surface of the earth, in a place that shouldn’t even exist.

  Yet here he was, standing behind a desk, staring at Albert with a look of satisfaction on his face.

  “Dad?” Albert asked for the second time, because even though his dad was standing right in front of him, Albert just couldn’t believe it was true.

  “I knew you’d make it,” Professor Flynn said, looking right at Albert.

  They were nearly identical versions of each other—Professor Flynn the larger, Albert the smaller—down to the three large freckles on each of their noses.

  “Mr. Jones, Miss Howell,” Albert’s dad said, clearly pleased to see them, too. He waved them all over to his desk, where three chairs sat open and waiting. “Have a seat. I’m sure you’re all exhausted. Getting down here the first time is quite an experience, but you’ll get used to it.”

  For a moment, Albert wondered if all of this was a strange vision from eating that bite of stale fruitcake back at the Herman Post Office, but he took his place in the middle chair, Leroy and Birdie on either side of him. Trey stepped into the office, too.

  “I delivered the letter,” Albert said, once they were all settled.

  Farnsworth barked and looked up at Albert as if he was owed something.

  “Farnsworth helped,” Albert added. “And by the way, did you know this dog has flashlight eyes?”

  His dad’s laughter echoed off the stone walls. The sound only drove it home further that there was a lot about his dad Albert didn’t know.

  “I had no doubt you’d deliver that letter to the Path Hider,” Albert’s dad said. “And yes, I know about Farnsworth. He’s a Canis Luminatis. A rare breed.”

  He glanced up at Trey, who was dutifully standing beside the desk. Alfin had returned to his shoulder.

  “There are those who didn’t think you’d get the job done,” Albert’s dad continued. “But I knew you would. You’re a Flynn. You were made for this.”

  Trey’s face reddened with embarrassment, as if he had been one of the naysayers.

  “You all did well by arriving at the Path Hider’s tree,” Professor Flynn said, glancing at each one of them in turn. “The Path Hider’s location is the only way into the Core—it’s the train station, if you will. You came from different places, some farther than others, but once you reached the Path Hider, you were at the outer gate of the Core. From there, it’s twelve miles down and a mile to the east. Very few people know about this place, and the ones who do keep it a secret. You should already feel proud to be here.”

  Albert did feel proud, but he was still having trouble believing the man in the green jacket was his dad. All this time, he’d thought his dad was Bob Flynn, Postman. And now he was Bob Flynn . . . Well, Albert didn’t know what his dad was.

  Albert’s face must have given away his thoughts, because his dad piped up.

  “Yes, Albert. It’s been hard to keep it a secret all these years.” He smiled at the three of them. “But it was necessary. A Balance Keeper should never discover the Core until it is his or her time.”

  “We keep hearing about Balance Keepers. But what is a Balance Keeper?” Leroy asked, leaning forward and placing his pointy elbows on Professor Flynn’s desk. “And is my dad here?”

  “Yeah, what about my parents?” Birdie chimed in.

  Professor Flynn raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you asked. Leroy, it was your father who was a Balance Keeper, long ago. He and I were in the same unit. He chose to go back home after many noble years of service here.”

  Leroy leaned in even farther. “So he knows I’m here?”

  “Oh yes,” Professor Flynn answered. “If you ever reach the status of professor—and that’s a very, very big if—then you never forget, even if you leave and don’t come back. A Core professor never loses the memory of his or her experience here. Not so with everyone else. The Memory Wipers take care of that. Your father, Leroy, was a professor, but he won’t be joining you.”

  Then he turned to Birdie. “Miss Howell, your grandmother was the Balance Keeper in your family. Your grandmother was quite a woman—very brave and strong willed—though she had a quick punch when her temper flared up.”

  “I hardly knew her.” Birdie nodded. “But my mom always said I was a lot like her. Won’t my mom be looking for me?”

  “Your mother, as well, had the Balance Keeper gene, but she chose to stay on the surface and live a normal life, as some do,” Professor Flynn answered. “She knows exactly where you are.”

  “I guess that’s why she was the one who suggested I go into the woods and find some big, ugly tree,” Birdie said, running her hands through her ponytail.

  Professor Flynn nodded and shifted in his chair. As he did so, Albert caught a glimpse of a white Tile on a black, corded necklace hanging around his neck, like those he’d seen people wearing in the Main Chamber. But his dad cleared his throat and shifted again, and the Tile disappeared under his green coat.

  “In the Core,” Professor Flynn began, “you three will become a team. You will function as a training unit and learn all the skills you need. This training will take time and perseverance. You must commit yourselves entirely to the task.”

  “To what task?” Albert asked. “You do realize how confusing this all is, don’t you?”

  Professor Flynn nodded knowingly. “We find that it’s best not to say too much at the outset. Trust me, it would only confuse you more. You’ll learn best by doing, not by listening. You were all chosen for very important, secret work. And it won’t be long before you understand the Core the way all the other units do.”

  Professor Flynn paused and looked at the three gawking faces before him, and then he continued on.

  “That said, here are the basics: you will be trained in the fine art of entering hidden underground Realms and fixing problems—here we call them Imbalances—in order to keep the people on the surface of the planet safe. It’s dangerous work, but if you take your training seriously, you’ll be fine. Maybe even champions.”

  “What kind of Imbalances?” Leroy aske
d. “Like, the way a scale doesn’t balance if you put more weight on one side than the other?” He was chewing on his thumbnail, unable to look away from Professor Flynn.

  Albert’s dad smiled like he’d just overheard a secret. “In a way, yes. We clean up problems that plague the ecosystems in the Realms. The Core, here, leads us to these Realms. The Core is the gateway.”

  “Those three doors in the Main Chamber,” Birdie said. She raised an eyebrow at Professor Flynn. “Are those the gateways to the Realms you’re talking about?”

  “Smart girl,” Professor Flynn said. Birdie smiled smugly.

  Suddenly, Professor Flynn waved over Trey, who had been standing in the shadows in silence, and whispered something into his ear. Albert very much wanted to know every word that passed between them. Here was his dad, a leader in some secret society, and Albert had never known. And here was this guy he didn’t even know, in on his dad’s secrets. Who was Trey anyway? A Balance Keeper, too? What about all those people in the Main Chamber? He’d seen hundreds of them, all ages, when they first entered the Core. Surely not all those people, especially the old dude with the floor-length beard, could restore Balance in the Realms. Albert spoke up the second Trey returned to the shadows.

  “So, is everyone in here one of these . . . Balance Keeper people?”

  “We all work as one family, to keep it all running,” Albert’s dad said. “There are cooks, creature caretakers, Core mechanics, professors, launderers, medical teams, and communication teams to monitor the world above.”

  “But Balance Keepers are, like, the totally elite, right?” Birdie asked, her blue eyes wide.

  Albert’s dad nodded. “Balance Keepers are the entire reason for the Core. You give us all a reason to keep it running, and keep it safe.” He stopped for a moment, looking all three of them over. Albert sat as still as stone.

  “Without the Balance Keepers to ensure the Realms stay Balanced,” his dad said, his eyes landing on Albert, “the entire world could come to a dire end.”