The Prince Warriors

by Priscilla Shirer

  Wide is the gate that leads to destruction . . .

  Levi didn’t know Ruwach very well, but he had a feeling that this was not how Ruwach would rescue him, if he decided to rescue him at all. Something about this seemed too easy, too convenient. But Levi didn’t think he had much of a choice. There was no way he was getting out of this mess if he didn’t accept this Other Levi’s help. He took a breath and reached out his arm.

  Other Levi grabbed his hand. His grip was strong—and cold.

  “Pull me up!” Levi shouted, using his other hand to get some leverage on the edge of the sinkhole. “Pull me up!”

  But Other Levi didn’t pull him up. He stood frozen, his hand locked on Levi’s. With mounting horror, Levi saw that the clone’s hand was changing. Hardening. A grayness encompassed the clone’s fingertips, spreading down to his palm and wrist. It was turning to metal, just like the butterflies had. And the gray from the clone was now spreading to Levi’s own hand.

  He frantically tried to make the clone release its grip, but it was locked on tight. He pulled and pulled, but the more he struggled, the faster the gray metallic coating spread up his arm. So, he forced himself to be still. He watched Other Levi rapidly changing, its arms and legs becoming wrapped in metal plates held together with rivets, its face disappearing behind an iron mask. Any human features it once had soon morphed into mechanized parts. Its eyes—now just red glowing orbs like the butterflies’—stared at Levi, pulsing with intensity, as if willing Levi’s body to change along with it.

  Levi watched as the gray metal crept up his arm—slowly, steadily. Eventually, he thought, it would cover his whole body. He would look exactly like this ghastly metal thing that held him fast. And there was nothing he could do about it.

  “Ruwach!” he called out desperately. “Somebody! Help me!”

  Again the words echoed back to his own ears, unanswered.

  * * *

  Xavier pedaled his feet in the quickening sand, trying to get enough leverage to stay above ground. It was hard, desperate work, but somehow he managed to push himself up far enough to get one knee above the sand. He crawled out and sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath. That was close. Too close. He lay still a moment, letting the hammering of his heart diminish a little. But soon he felt the sand under him start to give way again. He quickly rolled over and crab-walked away before a second patch of quicksand collapsed under him. He wondered if the armor had led him into a trap.

  He glanced down at his breastplate, which was flickering, the orb spinning, the words becoming visible: Follow the Way of the Armor. It will lead you . . .

  “Okay, lead me,” he said aloud. As if in answer to his request, the breastplate focused a beam of light at a space just ahead of him in the shifting sand. Xavier stared at the spot a moment, uncertain. He didn’t see how that particular spot was any safer than where he was right now. But he’d asked, and the armor had answered. He struggled to his feet and leaped to that space, half-expecting to be sucked down into the sand once again. But that didn’t happen. Somehow, he was standing on solid ground that looked anything but solid. He gazed down at his feet, amazed.

  Another spot lit up a couple of feet away. Xavier held his breath and leaped again, just making it into the lighted spot. It was solid. Around him the sand was churning, undulating, like waves on the ocean, but wherever the light was, the ground was solid and unmoving.

  Another light, this one a little farther away. Xavier swung his arms for extra momentum and leaped again—he didn’t think he would make it, but somehow he did. It was like jumping from stone to stone in a streambed, only each time the little “stones” of light got farther away. He had to leap farther, and although he didn’t think he would be able to do it, he always made it to the next spot.

  After about ten leaps, the lights suddenly stopped, and the breastplate went dark. Xavier stood on the last spot of light, unsure what to do. His heart raced as he watched the sand continue to drop away around him. He rapped on the breastplate, trying to get it working again. Nothing happened. Frustrated, he almost tore it off and threw it away—but he couldn’t dislodge it from his shirt.

  Behind him the ground had all but collapsed into a dark void. The desert ahead of him continued to roll and churn like a storm at sea.

  It will lead you . . . It WILL . . .

  I just have to wait, Xavier thought. Be patient. Wait. It will lead me, it will lead me . . .

  He chanted those words over and over to himself, trying not to think about the collapsing ground behind him, the roiling sand ahead of him. The spot under his feet was still solid, at least for now. He wondered how long it would hold up.

  Follow the Way of the Armor . . .

  He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at the storm anymore. He tried to think about something else. Home, his parents, school starting next week. School—it seemed like a million miles away now. He wondered if he would ever get there. Would he go back to his world again? He’d been nervous about starting at a new school. But that was nothing compared to what he’d been going through since he came to Ahoratos.

  Ahoratos. Ruwach had said there would be battles, but this was not the sort of battle he had thought he would face. So far the enemy had been falling trees, lightning, sandstorms—and his own doubts and fears. It didn’t feel like a fair fight. It certainly wasn’t like the battles he had read about, or acted out with his brother, or played in video games. There the enemy was always some terrible monster or dragon or black knight on a horse. Those kinds of enemies were so much easier to recognize, to fight. But this—this was way harder.

  Xavier’s ears perked up. He heard something. Something new, something different from the constant whine of the sandstorm. It sounded like—laughter.

  His eyes flicked open and gazed out into the blowing sand—the storm seemed to be clearing, like a window unfogging. He could make out a scene––a group of people. Levi! And Evan! And Brianna! They were sitting at a huge table filled with food of all kinds, a banquet fit for a king. Or several kings. They were eating and talking happily. The room around them was very grand, like the feasting hall of a castle. Then Xavier’s vision zoomed out, to the outside of the castle, and then farther still, to the whole kingdom, the mountains, the valleys, the trees, and the streams. There it was!

  A path appeared in front of him, a series of

  stepping stones leading the way through the churning sand to the vision of the city. That was it! The clear path! It was only a few steps away. Soon he’d be in the castle, with his friends and his brother, stuffing himself with that wonderful food. He realized then just how hungry and thirsty he was.

  He was about to leap onto the first stone when something made him hesitate just long enough for Ruwach’s words to resonate in his heart.

  Follow the Way of the Armor.

  He looked down at his breastplate. It was still dark.

  He tapped it again. Was it even on? Maybe the batteries were dead. Ruwach hadn’t mentioned having to recharge it.

  The orb glowed faintly, the words spilling out into the air in front of him.

  Guard you heart above all else,

  for it determines your path.

  His heart wanted to leap down the stone path to the castle. To reunite with his brother and his new friends. But the breastplate was not giving him permission.

  “Come on! Say something!” he said irritably, tapping it harder. He looked up at the scene of food and friends in front of him, then back down at the breastplate. Still nothing.

  Just wait.

  Xavier waited.

  It will lead you down the right path . . .

  Frustrated, Xavier threw back his head, looking up toward the sky as he let out a long sigh. His body was angled back just enough for the breastplate to tilt upward. In that moment it lit up like it was set on fire, emitting a brilliant white beam of light. But it wasn
’t directed at the sand before him. It was aimed upward.

  Xavier’s eyes followed the light beam to a tall cliff appearing through the sandstorm—at least thirty feet high.

  Seriously? You want me to jump . . . up there? he thought to himself.

  The beam was steady on the cliff’s ledge. It would take superpowers to get to that ledge in one jump. He’d never make it. He shuddered as he considered the consequences: falling into an endless pit? Being buried in sand? He looked again at the scene of the beautiful kingdom, waiting before him. Then he remembered Levi and the wide gate. How inviting and real it had appeared.

  Lean not on your own understanding.

  He sighed to himself. Only one way to find out.

  He started to lift one foot off the ground, but his boots felt funny. He looked down and saw a faint reddish glow around the soles of his feet. The bottom of his feet felt very warm. The glow intensified—he thought he saw a flame sprout from the heels.

  Jump.

  He looked up again at the ledge. Here goes nothing.

  He crouched down, took a deep breath, and jumped.

  The boots seemed to launch him into the air. I could use these on the basketball court, he thought as he soared easily up to the top of the cliff. Below him, the sandstorm and the entire desert disappeared from view. He sailed toward the cliff where the light from his breastplate shone.

  In a moment he landed gently, like he’d been set down by some friendly giant. He was standing on grass in a sunny meadow. No more sand. The sky was blue. A soft wind caressed his face. It was like he’d jumped into a new world completely. A world of peace and rest. Like summer vacation. He took a deep breath. And then another.

  He straightened, gazing around him. The land sloped down to a streambed edged in tall grass and wildflowers. Big lazy willows leaned over the stream, dipping their long branches into the water. Xavier remembered how thirsty he was. He loped down the hill to the water, knelt, and scooped up a handful into his mouth. The water was clear and cold, delicious. He drank as much as he could and then lay back in the grass, basking in the shade of the willows. A little rest was all he needed. He’d made it out of the sandstorm. Not too much farther now, he was sure of it. Around him butterflies flitted lazily. Lots and lots of butterflies. He smiled, his eyes feeling heavy. Heavier than they’d ever felt. Maybe a nap, he thought.

  Just a quick one . . .

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Butterfly Kisses

  We’re going to fall!”

  Brianna yelled to Evan as they hoisted themselves over the top ledge of the building, which had begun to collapse under them.

  But they didn’t fall. The roof didn’t collapse. In fact, it wasn’t even a roof.

  It was another landscape altogether. A meadow.

  The two exhausted kids sat up and gazed around them at the waves of tall grass and flowers spread in riotous color all the way to the edge of a thick forest. No more crashing buildings, no more sinkholes. All was quiet, the only sound a soft breeze bending the flowers, wafting across their fevered faces. They blinked and stared, unable to get their bearings for a long moment.

  “Where are we?” Brianna asked softly.

  “I . . . don’t . . . know . . .” Evan murmured.

  Brianna reached out a cautious hand toward the ground, feeling around to see if it was solid. Evan did the same thing, making sure that what they were sitting on was going to stay there.

  “Feels . . . okay,” he said after a moment.

  Brianna touched one of the flowers with the tip of her finger, then tilted it to her nose. It smelled glorious.

  “Stellar,” she said. A butterfly landed on a flower, and she jumped at the sudden movement, half-expecting something to fall on her. She almost laughed when she saw it was only a butterfly.

  Evan kept looking around, also expecting something awful to happen any moment. He was still trying to figure it all out. “So we climbed up to the roof—and we landed here. So the roof of that building was like a—portal?”

  “Yeah, guess so.”

  Another butterfly landed near the first one. They were much bigger than normal butterflies with wildly colorful wings that glittered in the sun. Brianna smiled, relaxing. She reached out to touch them, sure they would fly away. But they didn’t.

  Evan was still curious as to how they’d managed to climb up a wall. He lifted up one foot to examine the boot. It looked the same as before. There was no evidence of spikes or claws or suction cups or anything that would make them stick to a wall.

  “How did these boots do that?” Evan said, more or less to himself.

  “They’re magic boots!” Brianna said, her attention still captivated by the butterflies.

  “Yeah . . . Ru said we’d have everything we needed. He’s full of surprises, that guy.”

  Brianna didn’t answer. She was making goo-goo eyes at the butterflies.

  “Hey, we need to get moving,” Evan said, annoyed that she was not really listening to him. “I’m getting hungry.”

  Brianna finally did look at him, as if just realizing he was still there. “Yeah, me too, come to think of it. And thirsty.”

  “I could go for a grape soda.”

  “Grape soda!” Brianna rolled her eyes. “I could go for a big glass of lemonade—”

  More butterflies floated toward them, their glittery wings sparkling as they landed on the wildflowers surrounding them.

  “Glitter butterflies? No way,” Evan said, horrified. “They must be—what do you call them—hallelujahs?”

  “Hallucinations?” said Brianna, shaking her head. “But these are real. And so pretty!” She leaned in toward the one closest to her. “Hello there, beautiful butterfly. What’s your name?”

  “Oh please,” Evan said. “She’s talking to butterflies now.” He looked suspiciously at the butterflies. There was something definitely not normal about them. They were as big as birds, and they had a way of—staring—that made him very uneasy. It wasn’t too surprising, after all, since pretty much everything was different here than on earth.

  “Hey, I don’t think we should be messing with those,” Evan said, standing up. “We should keep going.”

  “Who says?” asked Brianna, sounding annoyed.

  “You know what happened the last time we took a break—”

  “Oh relax, Evan. You’re such a worrywart. We don’t even have any direction from the armor yet.”

  “This way,” said a soft voice, delicate and sweet as honey. Evan looked around.

  “Did you say that?” he asked.

  Brianna shook her head. She hesitated, not sure if she should say what she was thinking, because she wasn’t sure how it could be possible. “I think—it was the butterfly—I think it talked.” Brianna stared at the butterfly, moving a few steps closer.

  “Follow me.” The butterfly flapped its wings, lifted off the flower, and flew a short distance away. It landed on another flower, as if waiting for her to follow. The others followed its lead, filling the whole meadow with glorious color like a moving carpet.

  “It talked—did you hear it?” Brianna gulped hard. Never had she imagined, even with her own wild imagination, that anything so marvelous could really happen.

  “No way,” said Evan. But he had heard it too, and it made him even more anxious. “Don’t listen to it. We have to wait for the armor—”

  But Brianna didn’t seem to hear him at all. She had scampered after the butterflies, which continued to fly away and land again, just out of reach. She gasped with delight as she chased them all the way to the edge of the forest.

  “Come back!” Evan shouted. He chased after her, calling to her to stop. She paid no attention.

  Evan’s breastplate began to blink. He stopped running after Brianna and began turning in a circle until the light stopped blinking and became
steady. It was pointed in the exact opposite direction of where Brianna was headed.

  “Hey! Look! We need to go this way!” he called to Brianna, who was now farther away, headed into the woods. “That’s not the way!”

  It was too late. She was already gone.

  “She never listens!” Evan said to himself. He looked from his breastplate and then to the woods. Should he go off on his own or go after her? He couldn’t leave her alone. Who knew what sort of trouble she would get herself into? He sighed and turned away from the right path, heading into the trees after Brianna.

  It was so dark in the woods he couldn’t even see the sky anymore. The trees were tall, with black, evil-looking leaves that reminded him of the forest he and Xavier first ran through to get to the Cave. There was no sound. The leaves didn’t rustle. No birds sang either.

  The strange butterflies perched on saplings and low branches, lined up like little soldiers. They did not look colorful here—their wings had changed to a dull, metallic gray. They glared at him with red, glowing eyes, beating their wings slowly. Evan took a deep breath and kept walking, searching for Brianna.

  After a while, he saw her. She was sitting on a tree stump with a lazy grin on her face, her gaze fixed on that same huge butterfly (or whatever it was) she’d been chasing. Apparently she didn’t even notice that it was no longer glittery. Its red eyes were locked on hers, as if it were controlling her with its laserlike gaze. She seemed to be carrying on a happy conversation that only the two of them could hear.

  “Brianna!” he called over to her. She whirled around to face him and all the butterflies did too, fixing their beady red eyes on him. It was like they heard him, could understand what he was saying. He felt unnerved by their eerie stares.

  “Hey, Evan! Come say hello to my new friend,” Brianna said, waving to him as he came closer.

  “Brianna, the armor says we need to go—that way,” Evan said, pointing out of the forest.

  “Just a few more minutes! Eleanor was just telling me the most wonderful story . . .”