Trey Roberts and the Ancestor's Wish

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Trey Roberts and the Ancestor's Wish Page 22

by Lee Magnus


  “You know I’m right, Trey. Don’t be a fool! Do the right thing and help us. She must not succeed in freeing him,” he said more forcefully.

  “Even if I believed you, I don’t know where she hid the eye or where she is now.”

  Brrrriiiiinnnnngggg! The phone in Trey’s pocket rang. Trey looked at the Phoenix with astonished eyes.

  “Well? Won’t you answer it?” the Phoenix said slyly.

  Trey slowly reached into his pocket.

  Brrrriiiiinnnnngggg!

  He pulled out the dated phone

  Brrrriiiiinnnnngggg!

  He looked once more at the Phoenix then flipped it open. “Hello?”

  “Trey! We’re coming for you. You must maintain your composure for my next words, then only say ok if you understand what I’m asking. You are in grave danger and must escape as soon as possible,” Lyza said then paused.

  “Ok.”

  “I believe in you, Trey. You can do this. Now hand him the phone.”

  “Ok.”

  Trey handed the phone to the Phoenix who was now standing next to him with a strong hand on his shoulder.

  “My Queen! How may I be of service?” the Phoenix said in a joyful tone that hinted of derisiveness.

  Trey’s mind raced. I can’t trust anyone. Nick was right about Lyza. And Lyza was right about this creepy guy. I have to get out of here on my own.

  He wiggled a little in the seat. The Phoenix increased the pressure on his shoulder in response.

  “Let the boy go. He doesn’t have a part to play in this. He’s just a boy,” Lyza pleaded.

  “You know I can’t do that, your Majesty. I will, however, make a trade. Bring me the eye and I’ll let him walk.”

  “I don’t have it.”

  “Then get it! You have till the end of tomorrow.” He flipped the phone closed, then tossed it onto the desk. “Trey. It has truly been a pleasure.” He motioned to the two guys that followed Trey into the room, then said, “Show him to his room.” The two suits grasped each arm and toted him out.

  “I can walk, you jerks!”

  One walked in front one behind.

  They brought him to an interior room with no windows. He heard the locking bolt slide after closing the thick solid wood door. Trey sat in a leather office chair saying to himself, “Now, what do I do?”

  He looked around but found no inspiration in the room decor.

  He removed the ring from his finger, pondering it for a moment. He placed it in the palm of his hand, closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of each slow, steady breath.

  Thoughts rolled across his mind like flitting leaves in the wind – briefly occupying his attention before disappearing into nothingness. Distant images of people and scenes shadowed his subconscious.

  Drifting deeper, color spilled into awareness. A serene setting of this room emerged. Outside the room, typical activities remained undisturbed as he floated through the office building. He became filled with dread while witnessing the Phoenix sitting at his desk discussing movements of trailers with the two suits who brought him to this room.

  A violent eruption of mayhem ensued as rogglets flooded the building, rushing from all sides, breaking windows and busting down doors. They scurried down hallways in a frenzy, searching for something.

  “Searching for me!” he said in alarm awaking from the trance. “Commerand is coming! But why is he looking for me? The ring! He must know I have the ring! I have to get out of here. Now!”

  Trey slipped the ring back on his finger, then beat on the door yelling, “Hey! You have to let me out! They’re coming! We’re all in danger! You have to let me out!”

  He received no response. He kept beating and yelling until his hand hurt.

  “They aren’t coming. I’ll have to do it myself.”

  He placed the crystal sphere, rope from his pack and the disk onto the desk. “How can I use these to escape? The rogglets will move fast when they get here. Maybe I can use this rope?”

  He tied a section of the rope several inches off the floor just a few feet inside the doorway, securing it with the desk and a couch. He removed wall hangers from several framed pictures of which he uses to suspend another section of rope across the top of the doorway. He secured the desk chair precariously with the loose rope so that one of the legs hung just in the path of the door. After about an hour he finished his rudimentary traps.

  While inspecting his work he heard dampened gun blasts then a thump on the back wall and several muffled screams.

  “They’re here!”

  He rushed back to the desk replacing the sphere into a zipped pocket. As he reached for the disk, the door burst open. The chair above the door toppled onto the first two unwary assailants smashing them to the floor. Two more entering in behind tripped over the taunt rope stretched across the doorway. Trey grabbed the disk then easily hurdled over the collapsed bodies into the hallway. Gunshots rang in distant parts of the office space and outside the main building.

  He sprinted toward the way the suits brought him but skidded to a stop seconds later as one of the Phoenix’s suited cronies slammed lifelessly into the corner wall ahead. The body crumpled onto the stained carpet. Rogglets followed it around the corner toward Trey. He quickly spun around and ran in the other direction. He tic tac’d on the wall to avoid one emerging from his previous room. The rogglets that succumbed to Trey’s traps joined the chase.

  He turned the corner just as Commerand emerged from a far room, setting a brisk pace toward Trey.

  In great surprise and fear he tried to stop but tripped on the rugged carpet hurling him uncontrollably into the air. He fell on his stomach several yards from Commerand. The disk propelled from his hand, bounced on the carpet, rolled past the undead sorcerer and finally settled against the far wall. Commerand seemed to be unconcerned with the artifact.

  “Bring me the Eye of Kartho,” rang the raspy voice as he continued to approach.

  Trey was too frightened to understand that Commerand still believed he had it. He instinctively hid the hand bearing Moridon’s ring.

  “What eye? I don’t have it!” Trey exclaimed.

  “You insolent boy! Tell me where it is!”

  “Why? Why should I?” Trey stalled hoping something miraculous would happen.

  Commerand raised the staff, magically lifting Trey from the floor. He pulled the staff toward him. Trey floated with the movements. He forced Trey to look into cloudy dead eyes. The stench of rotting flesh molested Trey’s gag reflex – he fought back a surge of vomit.

  Commerand said, ”IIIII muust have the eye to end thissss misery. IIII mussst free him so IIII can diiie along with this forsaken world! IIIII wiiill haaave it!”

  Trey tore his eyes from Commerand’s and yelled, “I don’t have it!”

  “Then you will die!” Commerand said definitively as he clutched the boys throat.

  Trey caught a glimpse of the disk on the far side of the room. He closed his eyes, then said a silent prayer to be out of the grasp of this horrifying creature. The disk became focused in his mind. He imagined himself standing against the wall holding it. He held onto this image as he felt Commerand’s skeletal fingers clinch like a vice. Trey fought with all his might to live. He never lost the hope he will escape. Trey opened his eyes to intensify his resistance only to find himself standing at the far wall with the disk grasped firmly in his hand.

  Flabbergasted at his immediate freedom but not more so than Commerand who swiftly turned to continue the assault. Wide eyed and ready, Trey sprinted out of sight before Commerand could catch him with the powerful staff. Rogglets filed in the hallway toward Trey from the lobby. He dashed through a side door which led to a large warehouse full of freight containers. He ran down isles of stacked containers.

  “What do I do?”

  An explosion behind startled him out of the thought. Lyza and Karim along with several others dressed in white garb, armed with machine guns, emerged through the blasted hole.

 
“Lyza!”

  “Trey! You escaped!” she said surprisingly.

  “No! Not yet!” he replied.

  “We have to get you to a safe place!”

  “I’m with you there! Let’s go!”

  They turned to exit the warehouse but were met by a swarm of rogglets. Commerand along with several others approached from behind.

  “What do we do, Lyza?” Trey said concerningly.

  She looked at him gravely, “You need a weapon to protect yourself. Call the sword, Trey.”

  “What?”

  “Call the sword. You need to use the sword.”

  “No! I’ll die! We’ll all die!”

  “Put away the disk and call the sword!” she said more urgently as the assailants approached from all sides. “It will only harm you if connected with the disk!”

  “Tell me, Lyza, if that really is your name, how do you know all this stuff?” he said accusatively.

  “Not now, Trey! Call the sword!” she screamed as rogglets commanded by Commerand attacked.

  “I don’t know how!” screamed Trey.

  Loud cracks from automatic weapons echoed off warehouse walls. The group surrounded Trey protecting him from the onslaught.

  Trey closed his eyes.

  “There are too many!” he heard a man scream in the distance.

  Trey focused his mind on an image of himself holding the sword, then thought, sword come to me, over and over again. Sword come to me. Sword come to me, until he felt it’s warm handle in his grasp. He thought it could burst into flames at any moment.

  Rogglets broke through their defensive formation. Trey raised the sword slashing it down on one of the attackers. He spun upward from a crouched position slicing three more. He finally thrusted the flawless blade through another.

  He tossed the lifeless body aside which cleared a hole for them to move further into the warehouse. The team spread out as they pelleted assailants with bullets. Rogglets infiltrated their tight formation scattering the group throughout the warehouse. Trey became lost in the maze of containers while desperately trying to reunite with the group.

  He darted through several isles until coming to the end of a row.

  “Maybe I can hide in one of these,” he said as he studied the door of a large shipping container. He lifted the latch with a bang, raised the counter-weighted door which pulled from his hand rolling all the way up. He fell off the back consumed with intense horror as he met hundreds of dead eyes filling the enclosed space.

  “Zombies! Oh my god!” he screamed scurrying away from the horrendous sight while maintaining eye contact as if to avoid a surprise attack.

  Undead glassy eyes were unfocused and unmotivated to move the standing listless decaying bodies that softly bumped and swayed in place.

  “These are Khaitu’s zombies! This is part of his army! The Phoenix has them ready to deploy!”

  Shots rang throughout the cavernous building as Trey regained his footing. He backed up to get a better look at the warehouse full of containers stacked three high. Shocked by the sheer number of containers, realizing each may be packed full of deathly servants brought a tremendous sickness to his stomach. He sat amid a strong spell of dizziness.

  “This will not end with us escaping from this warehouse,” he said to himself with an unfocused stare while coming to terms with the decision he has made. “I have to end it. It has to be now.”

  He placed the sword on a crisscrossed lap. He closed his eyes. He transferred the time relic from ring finger to index finger.

  He drew his mind to an image of the small village from his dreams. He imagined the thicket, the woman selling pottery, the children playing an ancient version of street soccer. He imagined standing next to the woman and child. He felt the sand in his toes, he smelled the sweet aroma of freshly baked dough.

  Trey slowly circled his right hand above his head. He sensed centuries passing before him. His fingers stroked an illusory edge of a bewildering universe as if he were in a shallow well only needing to pull himself out of the abyss of life’s unbroken challenges. Carefully, he pulled down the veil of time to envelop himself in a contorting theory of entangled madness. Closed eyes revealed within his inner vision, vivid images of twisting stars in a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors. As his hand rested on the floor of the warehouse, the images and colors faded. A stale warmness engrossed his body. Darkness prevailed; urgency ensued.

  Birth of a Prophecy

  “He’s in Dahshur,” Moridon, a tall dark-skinned man in dark blue robes with an aged face said to Olerand. “This risk is great, Master. We must focus on the ceremony. These people’s lives are miniscule to what Khaitu will do if he gains immortality.”

  “This is something I must do. I must try to save them. I was afraid he wouldn’t make it, dear friend. I thought all was lost. I have very little time to put things in order. I will return later to meet with Khaitu this evening.”

  “Very well, Master.”

  “Palonis! Prepare a boat for travel,” he said in the local language.

  ~~

  Trey opened his eyes to find himself sitting on a woven wooden rug resting on a sandy floor in a tiny dark building. Light peaked through cracks in the structure.

  No. Not any building. This is someone’s home, he thought.

  The sword remained resting on his lap. “Thank goodness these passed with me,” he said to himself referring to the artifacts travelling with him. “The theory of quantum physics holds through time! An object from separate instances of time can be in two places at once. Nick’s gonna get a kick out of that one.”

  He replaced the Roberton attire with a wrapped linen garment secured by a cloth belt over his pants, formed a make-shift sheath to conceal the sword on his back, grabbed an interesting looking piece of bread, then emerged into the bright midday sunlight.

  “This is all wrong,” Trey said anxiously as he looked around. “Where’s the thicket? Where’s the cliff? This village is way too big. What did Olerand say? Focus on where you want to be. Did he say where or when?”

  An elderly dark-skinned woman carrying a slender clay pitcher gave him a strange look as she overheard his conversation to himself. He offered an embarrassed smile before turning right down the narrow pathway.

  “He must have said when because I am clearly not where I need to be.” His stomach teemed with anxiousness at the thought that he was in the wrong place and that he made another big mistake.

  After walking nearly half a mile down a sandy street lined with small clay buildings, a river came into view.

  “Ok. That must be the Nile. I followed that North from the portal to the Phoenix’s warehouse. Cairo is just north of the warehouse and the place I need to be, according to the eagle dream, is west of Cairo or northwest of here, assuming I’m right to assume I only traveled through time and not geography.

  “I hope I have enough time to get there,” he said to himself with great concern in his voice.

  He walked northwest for fifteen minutes through a casual ancient city – a city that would accurately represent any he had previously seen in textbooks. Dark-skinned people of all ages and sizes were hocking wares, providing services and loitering about. A small, thin boy standing under a tall palm tree seemed to be offering him a bracelet made of stones and tiny shells.

  He strolled through a bazaar admiring the intricate detail on clay pottery when his eyes were drawn to a familiar face. He ran to the man, nearly knocking down another on the way.

  “Karim! Is that you?” Trey looked closer at the startled man’s face. “It’s you!” he exclaimed again pulling away the surprised man’s turban. “It’s you Karim! Oh my god it’s you! How can this be!”

  The man replied in an indecipherable language.

  “What? What did you say? I don’t understand!”

  Karim continued to speak, then motioned to his friend. They exchanged a few words while looking precariously at the unfamiliar boy in hysterics.

  “Of course! Yo
u don’t speak English yet! Come with me!” he said elated while grabbing Karim’s shirt. Karim was reluctant and pulled away.

  “You have to come with me,” he said with urgency and a hopeful glare. He pulled at Karim’s sleeve again who looked once more at his friend then followed Trey.

  Trey led a more curious Karim to a secluded area behind a tarped structure.

  He faced Karim and with a serious face and voice he said, “You don’t understand a word I’m saying and I’m not real sure why I am still talking.”

  Karim watched attentively at the young boy try to convey to him a very important message.

  Realizing the futility in more words, Trey stepped away from Karim. He looked to make sure no one else was around. With wide eyes he presented with two hands the sword from behind his back, then said, “I need to see Olerand.”

  Karim jumped backward covering his mouth releasing a flurry of incomprehensible words. Panicked eyes spelled the acknowledgement Trey was after. Karim urged him to replace the sword then briskly led him through the village to a one roomed square structure standing nearly fifteen feet tall. It looked like a meeting place – like a conference room – lined with stacks of sand colored bricks Trey assumed were used as chairs. He ushered everyone out before facing Trey with a serious expression.

  Trey looked into the eyes of the frightened man, then pointed at himself while saying, “Trey Roberts.” Next, he opened his hands palms up. He pulled them to his chest while forming a claw shape with his fingers saying, “want.” He then said, ”Olerand.”

  Karim stood in immense disbelief for several minutes. He repetitively shifted his hand from his mouth to his hip to his forehead – deep in frenzied thought. He looked as if he were doing an Egyptian version of the macarena.

  Trey became uncomfortable – unsure of what would happen next. He started fidgeting with his makeshift tunic – flopping and flapping the fabric to and fro.

  Suddenly, Karim nodded then quickly left the room. He instantly returned ushering Trey to sit. He held outstretched palms, indicating for Trey to stay. Trey did as commanded – for a little while.

  ~~

 

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