Jack Staples and the Ring of Time

by Mark Batterson

  “Boy,” Alexia said, her voice menacing. “The next one will land between your eyes. Now talk!”

  Wild sighed. “All right,” he said, throwing his good arm in the air. “I’ll tell you what I can. But some of it won’t make sense until we get to Agartha.”

  “Okay, then,” Alexia said. “Start talking.”

  “Ballylesson was attacked by the Shadow Souled, those who serve a creature we call the Assassin. At least one Shadule and a number of Oriax were part of the attack. I don’t know how many of the townsfolk survived—maybe all of them did. The Dark Servants didn’t seem to care about anything other than finding you.” He spoke to Jack. “They had no reason to stay after you were gone.”

  A pained look entered Wild’s eyes as he continued. “My uncle was there too, but the only thing we could do for him and everyone else was to leave.”

  Jack waited for more, but Wild stayed silent.

  “And my mother?” Jack asked. “Is she dead?”

  When Wild met his eyes, he hesitated. “Yes … At least, I think so.”

  Jack suddenly felt dizzy.

  “She”—Alexia pointed angrily at Mrs. Dumphry—“told me we could save Megan. She said if I came with her, Megan Staples would be saved!”

  “She had to tell you something to get you to listen,” replied Wild. “If you hadn’t come, you’d be dead or captured by now.”

  Alexia took a menacing step forward, swinging her sling a little faster. “Tell us what’s happening. And if you lie to me, it’ll be the last thing you do!”

  Wild gave one last, longing look at his staff before answering. “The world that most people live in is not real. Or rather, it is only a shadow of the real world. The story goes that before our world was born, something terrible happened. And because of it, at the birth of our world, scales were placed on the eyes of every human and beast. The scales were meant to stop us from seeing the world as it truly is. Except that for some, the scales have fallen off.”

  “What are you talking about?” Alexia was beyond angry. “You had better start making sense or I’ll—”

  “You asked for answers,” Wild cut her off. “You may not understand them all—to be honest, there are few who do. I don’t even know if the Sephari understand all of it, but I’m telling the truth. Now, be quiet and listen.”

  Alexia stuck out her lower lip but remained silent.

  “A war has been raging since before Time was born—a war between light and darkness, between the Author and the Assassin. But when our world was born, the war was brought here, and here it has stayed. I guess you had to find out sooner or later. But you”—now he spoke directly to Alexia—“have changed everything. Jack was expected. The Awakened have been searching for him since the very first humans awakened.”

  Alexia and Jack shared a confused look.

  “There is a prophecy that speaks of a child who will be born without scales. Its eyes will be open from the first day. There are many parts of the prophecy we simply don’t understand, and”—Wild shrugged irritably—“I haven’t been told everything. But the prophecy says two things that seem to be clear: the child will bow before the Assassin and destroy the world, and the child will destroy the Assassin and save the world.

  “Jack was born without scales,” he continued. “He is the Child of Prophecy. His mother was the Chosen One. It all made sense. And then, as Mrs. Dumphry tells it”—Wild shifted his gaze back to Alexia—“you showed up in Ballylesson. And your eyes are proof; you were also born without scales.”

  Jack listened in confused silence.

  “Until now the prophecy never made sense,” Wild told them. “How could the child both destroy and save the world? But now there are two children where there should only be one. Does this mean one of you will join us and the other will fight against us? Or does it mean something else?”

  Jack and Alexia shared a disbelieving look, and Arthur took an involuntary step back.

  “There’s not much more I know. My scales only fell off a few years ago, and I haven’t been told everything.” Wild seemed irritated at this. “When she awakens, Mrs. Dumphry will tell you more, but we need to leave now. We’ve stayed too long already.”

  “You say my eyes are proof,” Alexia snapped. “But my eyes aren’t any different than yours.”

  “And how often have you looked at your eyes?” Wild retorted. “You can tell if someone has awakened by the scars they bear. When we’re safely away from here, I’ll happily show you my scars. They’re on the center of my eyes and very faint, but they are there. It’s the same with every Awakened. But the two of you don’t have scars. It’s not something I’d be able to see from here, but if I looked closely, I would see a faint colored streak crossing your pupils.”

  “Everyone’s eyes are like that,” Alexia retorted, though she sounded less sure than before.

  Wild rolled his eyes irritably. “No, everyone’s eyes are not like that. In all the world, only you and Jack have eyes like that.” As he spoke, he picked up Mrs. Dumphry and threw her over his good shoulder. “These questions could go on for days, and you still wouldn’t be satisfied. I’m done for the night. We’re leaving.”

  As Jack followed Wild back to the wagon, he felt sick to his stomach. He remembered his mother’s words from the night before she died. “You are not a normal boy, Jack. Your birth was prophesied even before our world came into being.” Besides this, Jack had seen the colored smear at the center of his eyes. It was faint and could only be seen in full daylight, but there was a small, aqua-blue streak crossing the pupil of each eye. He’d never thought anything of it until this moment.

  A few hours later, Mrs. Dumphry and all three children were asleep in the back of the wagon as Wild drove. Wild had found some pine branches and made a bed for Mrs. Dumphry on the floorboards. Jack and Arthur shared one bench, and Alexia took the other.

  When he climbed in, Jack was sure he would never be able to find sleep. His mother was dead; he was in the middle of some kind of waking nightmare, and his leg still burned like fire. Yet as his mind spun with thoughts of home, he closed his eyes and immediately fell into a fitful sleep.

  When he opened his eyes again, Jack was surprised to see that the sun was up. Every muscle in his body ached. Arthur slept with his head resting on Jack’s legs; Alexia now lay on the floor on top of the pine branches; Mrs. Dumphry was no longer there; and the wagon wasn’t moving. Jack’s chest tightened as a tear slid down his cheek. All he could think about was the sight of his mother lying on the grass outside his house.

  Every muscle protested as he sat up. He was ravenously hungry. When he moved his legs out from under Arthur’s head, Jack let out a quiet moan. Although the burning in his leg didn’t seem quite as bad as the night before, the wound had turned very dark.

  When Arthur’s head hit the bench, he mumbled something but didn’t wake. Jack rubbed his good leg, trying to get the blood flowing. From outside, he could hear a low murmur of conversation. He cautiously put weight on the wounded leg. Although it burned, the pain was bearable at least. Creeping quietly so as not to wake the others, he stepped from the wagon and stretched his arms above his head, groaning at the stiffness in his muscles.

  Whoever was speaking was hidden inside a small copse of trees a short distance away. Jack walked toward the trees as quietly as he could. He wanted to hear what was being said without being seen. As he peered from behind a tree, he saw Mrs. Dumphry speaking with a man he’d never seen before. The man was tall with shoulder-length black hair, olive skin, and a large scar running from his forehead over a ruined eye and down his cheek. He was dressed completely in black, with a long cape and a sword buckled at his waist.

  Wild stood nearby, keeping watch. Each time his back was turned, Jack crept slowly closer.

  “You should have told us!” The man sounded angry.

  “And what would you have done
?” Mrs. Dumphry asked. “Sent an army to collect them? You would have drawn the attention of the Assassin himself. This was the only way.”

  “I’d have sent more than a single boy.” The dark-haired man glanced at Wild, who was pretending not to listen. “You stubborn woman, I’d have come myself if I had known.”

  “I trust Wild with my life,” Mrs. Dumphry replied. “And right or wrong, it’s done. I’d hoped to leave undetected, but I was too late. The Dark Servants were quicker than I had imagined. It shouldn’t have been possible for them to beat me back to Ballylesson, but by the time I arrived, they were already there.”

  The man was still angry, but his tone shifted as he put his hand on Mrs. Dumphry’s cheek. “If I’d lost you, I would be lost. And you aren’t just important to me, but to all of us.”

  Jack watched as Mrs. Dumphry leaned against the man and placed her head against his chest. “And yet, compared to these two children, I am nothing,” she whispered. Jack was confused. Mrs. Dumphry must be three or even four times older than this man, yet it looked to him as if they loved each other.

  “Two,” the man said with a hint of awe in his voice. “How did we not see it? And how did the girl stay hidden for so long?”

  “I do not know.” Mrs. Dumphry shook her head. “There is more happening here than we could possibly understand. Yet I am sure Alexia and Jack are both the Child of Prophecy.”

  As Jack tried to move closer, a twig snapped beneath his wounded leg. Wild stepped forward and hefted his staff, and the man placed a hand on his sword.

  “You can come out now,” Mrs. Dumphry called, her voice stone cold.

  Jack sighed and straightened from his crouch, stepping from behind the tree. He did his best to meet his teacher’s eyes.

  The man shot an irritable glance at Wild. “You trust this boy with your life, yet he can’t keep you safe from a skulking child.”

  Mrs. Dumphry tsked as she looked at Jack. “Go to the wagon and wake the others,” she said cooly. “We are leaving.”

  Chapter 18

  WALLYDROM

  Jack returned to the wagon to find Alexia already up. She was rummaging through one of the saddlebags, looking for something to eat. As she pulled out a large chunk of cheese, Jack’s stomach growled loudly. He was famished. The night before when he’d crawled into the wagon, he’d been hungry enough to eat a horse. In this moment he thought he might be able to eat two.

  Alexia turned and looked at him, her face unreadable. After a moment she broke off a chunk of cheese and handed it to him. Jack nodded his thanks, taking a large bite. Although his leg still burned, he was beginning to wonder if it might be getting better. It looked as bad as before—worse maybe—but he could put a little weight on it now.

  Hobbling over to the wagon, he grabbed Arthur’s leg and shook him slightly. “Arthur, you need to wake up.”

  “Don’t eat me!” Arthur screamed as he sat bolt upright. When he saw Jack, he glared at him with his good eye. “That’s not funny!”

  “I wasn’t trying to scare you,” Jack said. “Mrs. Dumphry wants us to get ready. She says we’re leaving soon.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until that old hag gives me answers,” Alexia said. “If she thinks she can lie to me, she’s sorely mistaken.”

  “And when did I lie to you, child?” Mrs. Dumphry came striding through the trees behind Alexia with the stranger and Wild on either side.

  Alexia turned and slipped a stone into the fold of her sling. “You told me Megan Staples could be saved! You said if I came with you, you’d help her.” Swinging her sling, Alexia took a threatening step forward.

  Mrs. Dumphry stopped walking, and the stranger and Wild both stepped away, watching with a look of interest. “No, child, I am afraid you misheard. I told you if you wanted to help Megan Staples, you would come with me. There was never any chance of saving her life. Her light was fading even before I arrived.” Mrs. Dumphry sounded as if she were giving a lecture in the schoolhouse. “When I found you, the only way to help Megan was to keep the two of you alive. It is all she would have wanted. So you see, I did not lie; you merely heard what you wanted to.”

  Jack’s chest tightened with every word. How could she speak so coldly? How could she say these terrible things? “What’s wrong with you?” he asked angrily. “I thought you were her friend!”

  Mrs. Dumphry grimaced slightly, shifting her gaze to Jack. “I am sorry, Jack. I needn’t have spoken so bluntly. I am beyond weary, and I was harsher than I should have been. Your mother was one of the truest friends I have ever had. Regardless, what I said is true. Your mother is gone. If I could have saved her, I would have. I don’t know what happened or how she died, but I have no doubt she gave her life to save the two of you. But we haven’t the luxury of time to properly grieve. We must mourn even as we flee.”

  “No!” Jack erupted with an anger he didn’t know was there. “No. I don’t believe you. We have to go back! Maybe she’s still alive. We can try … something! And what about my father and Parker and the rest of them? We have to go back.”

  Arthur crawled stiffly out of the back of the wagon. “Jack’s right,” he said. “We have to go back to Ballylesson.”

  “I don’t know about your father or brother or anyone else in Ballylesson,” said Mrs. Dumphry. “But going back will only hurt those you love, and it will surely kill you. The Dark Servants came for you.” Her eyes stayed on Jack. “And now that they know you exist too,” she said to Alexia, “they won’t stop until they have you both.”

  Without warning, Alexia screamed and sent the small stone flying at Mrs. Dumphry’s head. Just as the stone was about to strike her, it stopped in midair. Arthur let out a small gasp of surprise, and Jack stepped back. Alexia merely looked angry.

  “Child”—Mrs. Dumphry’s voice was even colder than before—“I understand that Wild told you some things he should not have. And now you must have more questions than ever. Once we are on our way, I will answer many of them, but right now we are leaving. The Dark Servants have not been beaten, only beaten back. Even now they draw near.”

  Mrs. Dumphry turned and motioned to the stranger. “This is Aias. He is a friend and was kind enough to bring horses. From here we ride.”

  As Mrs. Dumphry climbed on to a white mare, the stone Alexia had flung at Mrs. Dumphry dropped to the ground.

  An hour later, the wagon had been left behind, and all six travelers rode horseback through the forest. Jack rode a dark-brown stallion with a white spot just above its left eye. He had never been a good rider, and because he could only put a little weight on his wounded leg, he was even worse than usual. But the horse seemed to sense his injury. The only reason he was able to stay in his saddle was because the stallion moved far more gracefully than any horse Jack had ridden.

  Arthur rode a dun-colored packhorse in front of Jack. He was an even worse rider and bounced continuously, nearly falling off with every other step. Alexia, on the other hand, looked as if she had ridden every day of her life. Her back was straight, and she didn’t bounce at all. She rode a dappled gray gelding at least two hands shorter than Jack’s stallion. Mrs. Dumphry and Aias led the way, and Wild brought up the rear.

  Not long after they’d left the wagon, Mrs. Dumphry called back: “Children.” Her voice was harsh in the silence of the fields where they rode, causing Alexia, Arthur, and Jack to jump. “I told you I would answer your questions when we were on our way. And now we are on our way.”

  All three children booted their horses forward. They were riding through a large field of potatoes. In the distance Jack could see a farmer’s house with smoke rising from the chimney. Until this moment he hadn’t thought about where they were; he’d only been thinking about what was happening. They had been traveling for two days and a night, though, and he was curious.

  “Where are we?” He was almost afraid to hear the answer.

>   “We are drawing near the town of Wallydrom.”

  Jack felt even more alone than he had just moments earlier. Until now he’d never been more than a few hours outside Ballylesson. The day his mother took him to the circus had been a grand adventure. In part because they were going to a real circus and in part because it was the farthest away from home he had ever been.

  “What’s going on?” Alexia demanded, interrupting Jack’s thoughts. “What were those beasts, and how did you stop that stone? And the fire and lightning and all of it! You have to tell us what’s happening!”

  “I suppose I do. Yet you will need to be patient. Pull one thread and a hundred unravel.” After a moment Mrs. Dumphry smiled. “But I suppose even the grandest tapestry began with a single thread.”

  Alexia glared at her.

  “Both of you”—her gaze took in Jack and Alexia—“are different. The rest of the world is born into darkness, blind as babes. Yet when the two of you were born, there were no scales covering your eyes. You have lived in the true world from the very first day.”

  “I’ve never seen scales on anyone’s eyes,” Alexia said haughtily.

  “They are not scales you can see—at least not until they have fallen off—but they blind nonetheless. Young Mr. Greaves understands this more than anyone, I would think. The scales covering his eyes have only recently fallen off. And though he is still relearning how to see, the entire world is already feeling more … substantial. Arthur is now one of the Awakened. In a way, you could say he has been reborn. And as with every newborn, he must learn how to walk and talk in this bright new world.”

  Arthur turned a strange color of green as he listened to Mrs. Dumphry’s words.

  “It’s not that there are two worlds, though this is often how it has been explained in the past. Rather, Arthur was only living in a shadow of the real word, whereas now, he is living in all of it.”

  Mrs. Dumphry paused for a moment, then looked at Arthur. “Young Mr. Greaves, you did well last night. It would seem Wild was right. It is a good thing that you have joined us.”