Jake Bowers Versus The Firebird

Jake Bowers Versus The Firebird Page 5

by Laryssa Waldron

  ***

  Later that evening, after recounting the events with Seiya at the Fischer’s house all afternoon, Jake finally walked into his house.

  “Still nothing from Mark, sorry hon,” his mom called out.

  “Hmmm,” Jake said distractedly as he took the stairs two by two.

  “Guess what?” Jake said as he closed the bedroom door. He opened his backpack while simultaneously kicking off his shoes. Looking at his crusty after-school feet he decided to change his socks.

  Then he confidently stood on the carpet and triumphantly held up the book. The carpet leaped off the floor. The air held the sheer feeling of giddiness. Jake threw his arms and legs into a weird jig — his happy dance while the carpet bobbed up and down in delight. When the silly celebration ended, Jake sat down on the flying carpet and began to read the book out loud.

  “Ok,” said Jake, “there’s some stuff about this place called Persep— something, and I guess a lady.” Jake flipped through the pages.

  “Pictures of stones and buildings and,” Jake stopped to examine a page in the book, “weird, there’s writing on these rocks. Looks like a bunch of triangles and sticks.”

  Persepolis, a thought came into his brain.

  “Persepolis?” Jake said out loud.

  Persepolis, the thought came back to his mind. Jake pointed at a line of foreign text. “Is that what that word means?”

  Persepolis, the thought came again.

  “Wow!” Jake was stunned. He flipped the pages until he saw what looked like an English translation. “It says here one-thousand-and-one nights.” Then he pointed to the ancient writing.

  One-thousand-and-one nights, the thought entered his consciousness and solidified the translation.

  “So you speak this language, I guess.” There was no responding thought, but obviously the answer was yes. He flipped to another page and read the inscription under the picture of a clay tablet.

  This tablet was found in the ruins of Persepolis. Many of the cuneiform writings have been worn away, but the names Sinbad and Cyrus can be seen. As for the connection between the two, nothing but speculation can be found.

  “Huh,” said Jake, “so is there a connection and why do we care?”

  Suddenly his brain was full of ideas, too many for Jake to sort through.

  “Slow down,” Jake said, “I can’t think.”

  The carpet will ride only for the master and for whom the master wills.

  “Whoa!” said Jake, “Is that what that stone says?” He flipped the page to another lithographic photo of the strange tablets.

  The carpet will return to its master.

  Jake flipped to another page.

  The carpet can communicate through thought transference.

  “Ok, this is seriously cool! So, this is like a handbook for how to use you?”

  The carpet can be changed in size by using the square of the hand. The thumb and forefinger on each hand should be open to a right angle. To increase the carpet size, right angles must be joined and hands then should pull apart in a fluid motion. To decrease size, perform the opposite.

  “Can I try?” Jake asked in a whisper. There was no answer, but Jake felt that it should be done. He stood up and looked down at the carpet. He first brought his hands out and the carpet stretched, growing larger in perfect symmetry, like controlling the size of a picture with a computer mouse. He pulled his hands inward and the carpet shrank. Jake made it small enough that it could fit in his pocket.

  “Amazing,” Jake breathed out.

  “Jakey, dinner,” his Mom called from downstairs.

  “Coming,” Jake called back and made the carpet normal size again.

  He stood in the middle and said, “This is so great. I get it. You wanted me to get this book so that I could understand you and how you work.”

  A picture of the night sky entered his thoughts.

  “You want to go flying?”

  Millie’s smile – beautiful, excited and child-like filled his mind.

  “Me too, but we’ll have to do it after dinner, okay?”

  A picture of the carpet in its shrunken state came now.

  “You want to come with me? Sure.”

  Jake made the motion and safely placed the carpet in his jeans pocket. Then carefully, he put the book in his empty desk drawer and went down to eat.

  15. Second Flight

  It was exhilarating! Jake was flying again, only this time he was controlling the direction on the carpet. He felt a surge of mixed emotions; dumb for being so clumsy and uncoordinated the first time he went out and happy that he had been practicing. It was easy to keep balanced this time and there was something else as well. Confidence. That feeling held him on and as he flew, the almost magnetic force between his feet and the carpet grew stronger and stronger.

  As he flew up, he noticed how beautiful and peaceful his neighborhood looked at dusk. Mrs. Felix was taking out her garbage cans. Mr. Walters’ car was pulling into his driveway. The sunset made everything glow pink and orange like the world had been splashed with grapefruit juice.

  He decided to fly higher, up to the lower clouds. He noticed that the center of the carpet had changed. The tree had been turned into a giant golden compass that pointed to the four cardinal directions, North, South, East and West, exactly like a map. He decided to try stepping on the compass directors to practice manipulating the carpet in circles – first to the east, then to the west.

  He realized that by leaning his body weight heavily on the southwest corner of the carpet and placing his other foot lightly on the northeast corner, the carpet would make a delicate arch.

  He moved the carpet, leading with his other foot and it arched in the opposite direction. With every position of his feet, the carpet would move in perfect unison.

  Then Jake experimented with heights and speeds. He swooshed downward and then pulled up from the dive by changing his foot position and weight to level the carpet out. After circling up in the air, they rushed down again, over and over, until his ankles began to get sore and tired from the manipulation.

  As he looked around to find his way back home, he noticed the orange Gullwing flying ten feet away from him. The passenger door was open and Farid was frantically motioning him over.

  Jake flew toward the door and peered inside the car.

  “Hurry and get in, my young friend,” Farid’s tone was urgent.

  Jake walked off of the carpet and into the car. Then, he shrunk the carpet and put it on his lap. Farid was noticeably impressed.

  “I see you’ve learned a thing or two,” he said. Then suddenly, he grabbed at Jake’s shoulder.

  “Whaaat?” Jake stammered.

  Jake felt something grabbing and clawing at his muscle. In horror, Jake watched as Farid unraveled the legs of a cyborg-scorpion from the fabric of his sweatshirt. Jake snatched his shoe and began to swat at the arachnid in the same way that Mr. Lewis had done in the class.

  “NOT, in the car!” Farid said as Jake missed and hit the dashboard.

  Farid was holding the squirming scorpion by its tail. “I’d like to see if I can preserve this little guy. Open the glove box and get that bowl and flask for me.”

  Jake did so, and Farid grabbed the flask with one hand, opening the cork lid with his teeth as the scorpion squirmed against the grip of his other hand. He motioned for Jake to pour the contents, a strange electric blue liquid, into the bowl. Then, he took the scorpion and plunged the fleshy side into it.

  “Well, that should buy us some time,” Farid said, looking over at a very shaken Jake.

  “How did you –” Jake began, but cut himself off.

  “It may be too late, but at least we have a few moments before things can be set into motion.”

  “What are you talking about? What is that thing?” Jake questioned.

  “It’s a Girtablili, named after the Babylonian legend of half-man, half-scorpi
on because it is part scorpion, part man-made machine. Quite a clever invention, really. You can call it a Scorpionic, that works as well. I believe you’ve seen one before? Rex told me about the classroom today.”

  “What do you mean, it might be too late?” Jake was full of questions, but this was the most pressing.

  “There is someone who has found out that you have acquired the special skill of carpet flying.”

  “Found out? How?”

  “Patience, patience,” Farid said, trying to continue his lead in the conversation. “This person may or may not yet know that you have this particular carpet.”

  He motioned toward the item in Jake’s lap. “It is important that she be kept ‘in the dark,’ as long as possible about you being a flyer. It is imperative that she not know that you ride this carpet.”

  Farid paused to let Jake take in this information.

  “A flyer?” Jake questioned,

  “One who has the ability to fly carpets. They can be called riders as well,” Farid answered.

  “Are there other flyers?”

  “Yes.”

  At that, Jake’s mind flooded with even more questions, but he decided to stay on the track that Farid had set.

  “She?”

  “Zharka. A psychopathic woman bent on power.” Farid said.

  “Okay, sure, a psychopathic woman bent on power, naturally!” Jake said, “does she know because of the girta— thing, I mean Scorpionic?” Jake looked down at the bowl and the still creature.

  “Most likely.”

  “How?”

  “As far as we can tell,” Farid said, “when she senses someone starting to use their gifts, in your case flying the carpet, she sends a Scorpionic to gather necessary information for recruiting to her cause.”

  “How does she know that someone is using their gifts?” Jake asked.

  “We’re not sure yet,” Farid said.

  “Why can’t she know about this carpet?”

  “Let’s just say, I procured it from her, and she wants it back.”

  Jake breathed in. “Did you steal it from her?”

  “It belongs to my countrymen,” Farid said in a very definite tone.

  Jake didn’t know what that meant. “So, how did she get it?”

  “She stole it.”

  Jake blinked a couple of times.

  “It seems though, that it might belong to you,” Farid said with a sigh.

  Jake considered this. It seemed odd. The carpet shouldn’t belong to anyone, but he was certain of one thing, that he was supposed to be its keeper.

  “How did you learn to do that?” Farid made the hand square that shrank the carpet.

  “I learned it from a book,” Jake stated. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell this man.

  “What book?” Farid shifted in his seat.

  “A book I got from Mr. Lewis,” he felt that this information was safe to give out.

  “Rex?” Farid was noticeably surprised. “I wonder why he never said anything to me about it.”

  “I don’t think he knew what was in the book,” Jake said and then instantly regretted it.

  “What do you mean? How did you know?”

  “The carpet told me,” Jake winced when he said it.

  Farid was stunned. He looked at Jake for a long time, and then looked at the carpet.

  The silence was eerie as they flew through a cloudbank.

  Jake wondered what Farid was thinking but was too scared to ask. He decided that the best thing was to not make eye contact with this stranger… that his uncle had warned him about… who held him captive… in a flying car. Jake began to study the Scorpionic to get his mind off of the disturbing train of thought.

  “Hey, is that light supposed to be blinking?”

  Farid jolted out of his pondering and looked over at the blinking, red laser on the arachnid. Quickly, he lifted the creature out of the liquid. Then he snapped off the tail. The scorpion began writhing in pain. Farid opened a panel in the armor and ripped out the wires.

  “There is a knife in the glove box.”

  Jake hurriedly opened it expecting to find a jewel-encrusted scimitar because everything else had been so bizarre, but he pulled out a Leatherman tool.

  “Cut here,” Farid pulled successive wires out of the insect’s armor and Jake cut. When the red light was out, Farid threw the remains of the Scorpionic in the back window of his car.

  “So, is that bad?” Jake said, “and can this car fly itself?”

  “Yes, it is very bad, and the car flies automatically when hands are taken off of the steering wheel.”

  “That’s amazing!” Jake was focused entirely on the car. “How does it fly?”

  “I’ve exchanged the engine with carpets.” Farid paused and then slowly said, “I’m a flyer too.”

  It was now Jake’s turn to stare at Farid. “You’re a flyer? How many flyers are there?”

  “Many, I will show you soon,” Farid said calmly.

  “So, how bad is it?”

  “The blinking light means that we are being tracked, monitored, and recorded. Though I don’t know how it is possible since I put it in the firn compound.”

  Farid shook his head for a moment, looking dazed. Then he focused back on Jake. “It’s sure that she knows, and most likely is now aware that I’m involved, too. This is very bad.”

  “Oh,” Jake said, “So what does that mean?”

  “I need you to trust me, Jake.”

  “Ok,” Jake said, wondering what trusting him entailed.

  “I’m going to take you home now, and I want you to leave the carpet with me.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just temporarily. I need some time to work out a strategy. It’s best that you are not in possession of the carpet, for the next little while. Don’t worry, it will all work out.”

  “But how long is that?” Jake didn’t want his carpet and his courage to disappear, perhaps forever.

  “I’m not sure. Just trust me. This woman is capable of dreadful things. Perhaps I was a fool for giving it to you.”

  “It’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jake said almost in a whisper as he absentmindedly traced the gold edges of the carpet on his lap.

  “I am sorry,” Farid said quietly, “truly sorry.”

  They sat in silence as the car slowly descended. Jake recognized that they were near the Fallbrook Mall, a few miles away from his house.

  “So, where are you from?” Jake wanted to know where Farid would take the carpet. He didn’t know what else to do, but give it back to the man that had given it to him.

  Farid smiled, “Well, I’ve been here for over ten years, so I consider myself an American.”

  Jake’s eyebrows furrowed and Farid laughed.

  “Originally, Persia,” he said, and then seeing Jake’s perplexed look, he amended his statement. “What is now known as modern-day Iran. I’m sorry, I work so much in the ancient that I forget that most people don’t follow.”

  “Oh,” said Jake trying desperately to talk about anything that would help him keep the carpet. The only thing that came out was, “So, you’re Muslim, then?”

  “No, I’m Zoroastrian,” Farid said with a smile.

  “So you’re not Arab?” Jake was confused.

  Farid’s smile tightened slightly. Then he sighed. “Typically, most people who live in the Middle East are Arabic, it’s a race. The major religion is Islam. People who are Islamic can also be called Muslims. Most Arabs are Muslims, but not all. Most people who live in the Middle East are Arabs, but not all.”

  Jake felt dumb. He should have known that information. It seemed familiar.

  “Oh,” was all that he could mutter, and then he looked down at his lap.

  Farid continued, “I live a religion called Zoroastrianism. It’s a very ancient faith.”

  “I don’t think I’ve heard of it,” Jake said ap
ologetically.

  “I believe you have.”

  Jake looked quizzically at Farid, sure that there was no way that he could have heard or forgotten such an odd word.

  “In ancient times, priests of this religion were called Magi.”

  It sounded vaguely familiar.

  Farid smiled, “They are more commonly referred to as the Wise Men that visited your baby Jesus.”

  “Oh,” said Jake, “that’s cool.”

  Farid blinked a couple of times and said, “Well, yes, that is the tradition, that the Wise Men were Zoroastrian priests.”

  They sat in silence again. The car touched down on the backside of the mall and in one fluid motion they went from flying to driving without any interruption. Not even a bounce. No one was around the back. Jake noticed some kids doing skateboarding tricks in the parking lot as they drove around to the front of the mall.

  They drove the final few streets and when Jake pointed out his brick home, Farid didn’t seem to need the direction. He pulled right into the Bowers’ driveway, which Jake thought was a little creepy.

  “Hey, what do I do about the cyber-scorpion in my bedroom?” Jake tried to stall, hoping to think of a reason to keep the carpet.

  “Does the jar have holes?” Farid asked.

  “No.”

  “It’s probably already dead. Burn it up to make sure,” Farid said and motioned toward his house. “Well, young Jake.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Jake was frozen to the seat hoping that Farid would forget about the carpet.

  “May I?” Farid motioned to the carpet and Jake numbly handed it over, upset because he couldn’t think of a reason to keep it.

  Farid looked almost worshipfully at the carpet. The porch light flipped on.

  “I’d better go,” Jake said, not wanting to deal with the tightness he felt in his throat. “Thanks for the ride, and please get it back to me soon.”

  His voice began to quaver and he felt stupid.

  Come on Jake, quit acting like a baby, he chided himself.

  “I will do all that I can to protect you and your loved ones,” Farid said. “For now, be careful and please contact Mr. Lewis if you see any more Scorpionics or if anything strange happens.”

  Jake nodded and hurried out of the car. Farid’s words protect you and your loved ones, haunted him. Jake closed the car door and watched as Farid drove off with –

  What’s the right word? he wondered, and after a moment found the correct phrase.

  My best friend.

  16. Patriotic Lunchroom

  Jake stalked into the kitchen from Farid’s car and stared into the open fridge. He wasn’t actively looking for anything, just staring at the light bulb in the open door.

  “What’s the matter, Jake?” his mom said as she walked into the kitchen. “Are you hungry, hon?”

  Suddenly aware of the pit in his stomach, Jake turned and answered, “I’m starving, what is there to eat?”

  His mom was about to make a list when Jake cut in, “something that’s not leftover please.”

  “That cuts out about half of the fridge, how about some broccoli crowns?”

  Yeah, he thought, that will match my mood!

  “Naw, what else is there?”

  “I think that there’s some applesauce in the pantry.”

  Jake closed the fridge and went to stare in the pantry.

  “Didn’t you just go to the Fischers’ house? You usually come back from there full,” she said in an odd sort of Mom-wants-to-talk voice. “Something wrong?”

  At the mention of his friend’s name, Jake snapped out of his fog. “I’ve got to call Hillary.”

  “But weren’t you just with her?” Jake’s mom asked, confused.

  “No, I was just out getting some fresh air.”

  “Well, keep it short, Jake. I’m serious. It’s a school night and I want you to get settled down.”

  “Okay,” Jake grabbed a package of buttery flavored crackers, a can of spray cheese, and the phone before running into the den.

  “Hello, son!” Mr. Bowers was sitting comfortably in Jake’s favorite chair with his stocking feet resting on the Ottoman; a well-worn book lay open on his lap.

  Jake scowled at his father. Why is he in here?

  “I gotta make a phone call.” Jake lifted up the phone to show his dad.

  “Wait, sit down, tell me how you’ve been… let me show you this book I’m reading.”

  “No, that’s okay. Like I said, I gotta make a call.” Jake headed out the door and his father called after him.

  “Well, all right then, maybe another time.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. He was in no mood for one of Dad’s two hour lectures on sub-atomic particles, or the latest in String Theory. He went into the dining room and, fortunately, no one was there. He kicked Millie’s pretty pony village out of the door way, sat down in one of the cushy gold chairs and dialed Hillary’s number.

  “Hello,” a woman’s voice answered the phone.

  “Hi, Mrs. Fischer, this is Jake Bowers. Is Hillary available?”

  “Sure, Jake, just a minute and I’ll get her.”

  Jake looked at the wear on the table while he waited for Hillary. It had been a beautiful dark oak when it was new. Now the finish had come off and the wood was warped underneath. There were random scratches from the multi-faceted uses of the table. A gash where his Mom’s sewing machine usually sat. A burn mark from an out-of-control fondue pot. Scissor scratches, glue that needed to be scraped off, and other remnants of craft days that both he and Millie had enjoyed with Mom.

  “Hi, Jake,” Hillary interrupted his mental cataloguing of table history. “I can’t talk right now. I’m finishing my studying for the Foreign Language Fair tomorrow.”

  “I forgot that you have that,” Jake sighed, thinking about how dull school would be. “It’s really a whole day thing?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be up at the college competing. It’ll take the entire school day. Caleb’s coming, too.”

  “Oh man, I’m going to be all alone,” Jake whined, though he didn’t mean to say it in the tone that came out of his mouth.

  “Yeah, sorry. So, tell me your news quickly. I’ve got a ton to do to finish getting ready.”

  “It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to tell you some stuff about the carpet. I guess it can wait,” Jake said dejectedly.

  “You sure?” Hillary’s question sounded a little fake.

  “Yeah, just give me a call when you get back tomorrow.”

  “Sure, you can come over,” Hillary offered.

  “Yeah, okay, ‘night, Hill.”

  “Bye, Jake.”

  Jake was annoyed at Hillary and Caleb. He was mad at Farid and whoever this scorpion wielding woman was. He missed the carpet and wanted to talk to someone, but had no desire for that conversation to be with his parents. And where was Mark? It had been months since they had talked.

  He stalked up the stairs and sulkily threw himself on his bed. He didn’t even feel like eating. Then he remembered how dumb he felt when Farid had to explain the difference between race and religion. Shouldn’t he know that stuff?

  I mean, what is Mr. Lewis getting paid for anyway if he’s not going to teach us the information that we need to know about the world?

  Then Jake thought about the doodling and daydream combo that was his main classroom activity. He wondered how much of it was his own fault. Thinking about it made his gut sick, or maybe it was the fact that he was hungry, or just bored.

  His room felt empty without the carpet. He decided to open the book that the carpet had led him to. He couldn’t read the cuneiform writings on the clay tablets, but he decided to read what he could. It was mildly interesting; all about ancient empires in Assyria and Persia. As he continued to read, his head began to nod. After a while, he began a pattern of reading the same sentence, falling asleep and then reading it over. He did it repeatedly for a
bout twenty minutes and soon, his head was down, and he was out.

  The next morning came in a flash. Wearily, Jake got ready. His mood had somewhat improved with the rising of the sun. In no time he was on the familiar path to Hale Junior High, looking for a burnt orange Mercedes-Benz and thinking over the events since the first time he saw the Gullwing. He wondered if he’d ever see his carpet again.

  “Bowers!” A sneering voice called out. Jake quickened the pace. He did not want to confront Abel and his weird band of thugs, not today.

  “Go ahead and run, Big Butt!” They jeered after him. “You should pay us for helping get you in shape. Look at you go!”

  Jake ran the last few steps into the safety of the grey and army green bunker-like building, dreading the day. Wasn’t it enough that his friends wouldn’t be there and that the carpet was gone?

  He spent most of the time between classes dodging the areas where Abel and the gang usually hung out - the hallway and the bathrooms that led down to the art studios in the dungeon part of the school and the doors by the cafeteria. Everywhere that Jake went, he watched, like the gazelles he had seen on the nature channel - eating grass with pricked ears, ready to run if the lion were to strike.

  He knew that he’d be most vulnerable at lunch, so he sat in the opposite corner away from his usual table. Things were quiet. Sure, this group of kids gave him strange looks when he sat down, but after a minute or two, the morph was a success.

  Out of habit, Jake looked over to where the school lunch was being served. He didn’t want to admit it, but the lunch lady’s celebration of food themes was entertaining. Today, the cafeteria looked like the fourth of July.

  Hot dogs and potato salad, nothing says the good ole’ US of A more than that. Jake smiled at the thought.

  Suddenly, something hard hit Jake in the head.

  Ouch! He thought, trying not to react to anything as he looked down at the table and saw that the object in question was a quarter.

  “John Jacob,” Abel breathed heavily into his ear. The occupants at the table scattered to a safe distance. “Been looking for you.”

  “Really, why?” said Jake, trying to sound like it wasn’t a big deal.

  “Thought I’d make sure you’re sticking to your diet, Chubby.”

  Abel grabbed Jake’s lunch and looked inside.

  “Wow, does your mom not know that you’re fat? What is this?” He began to pull out the items as he said them.

  “Juice box? Fattening!” Abel threw it at pimple-faced Paul who laughed and began to drink it.

  “Peanut butter crackers? Fattening!” Abel tossed those to the greasy haired goon.

  “Hey, I hate peanut butter, got anything else?” the bully whined.

  “Aw,” Abel put on a baby voice, “wooks wike mommy gave her baby a wittle note.”

  Jake flushed. His mom usually slipped an I love you, XOXO note in his lunch. It made him feel good about himself and Hillary thought it was cute. Today, it felt like the weight that would drag him down to the bottom of the ocean.

  “Peshus baby!” Abel pretended to gush. “So sweet of mommy to wove her obese fattie wabby baby.”

  Paul and Jose came in with chants and taunts.

  “Losers,” Jake said under his breath.

  Abel’s eyes grew wide. “What did you call me?”

  “I called you a loser,” Jake tried to say it bravely, but his voice betrayed his fear and cracked.

  “I’m the loser, huh?” Able said to everyone in earshot, which Jake just noticed had become a rather large crowd. Then Abel drew in close to Jake and whispered, “you’re gonna regret that, Lardo!”

  Loudly, as if he were the lead in a play, Abel began to address the students around them. “Guess who Jake’s been hanging out with?”

  Jake racked his brains. Who have I been hanging out with? Hillary? Caleb? Well, Caleb is a bit of a nerd but – his thoughts were interrupted.

  “He’s been seen with a Muslim guy.”

  There was silence as everyone looked around, wondering what Abel was getting at.

  “He’s Zoroastrian,” said Jake quietly.

  “You admit it!” Abel said, pointing at Jake. “We’re at war with the Middle East, and this guy’s hanging around one of them.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jake was still confused. “We’re not at war with the whole Middle East, just Kazhiristan.”

  “So you’re a terrorist now, huh?” Abel said while absentmindedly fingering the thick silver chain that hung around his neck.

  “No I’m not,” Jake countered.

  “We have troops on the ground and you’re hanging out with the enemy.”

  “Farid isn’t even a part of –”

  Abel turned to the American flags by the school lunch doors and put his hand on his heart. “Some of us around here love our country. We’re proud of our soldiers in uniform.”

  “You don’t even know anyone in the military,” Jake said quietly.

  “HEY! My mother’s, cousin’s, friend died over there!” Abel pretended to be offended.

  “Oh yeah, well, my Uncle is over there.”

  “So, you’re betraying your family as well as your country?”

  “Look,” Jake said, “nothing’s going on –”

  “We saw you in his car by the mall last night,” Paul said, laughing snidely.

  “Admit it. You were there, you stupid, fat, terrorist,” Abel continued, threatening Jake by leaning in towards him.

  Jake didn’t know what to say that they wouldn’t take way out of context, so he stood up and tried to walk away. Abel pushed his shoulder and he stumbled a bit.

  “Whatcha got to say for yourself, Fatso?” Abel called after him.

  Things were a blur as Jake moved away from the lunch room. He went the long way around the school and ran into the bathrooms by the school’s offices and sat in one of the stalls. He felt stupid and powerless without the carpet. His confidence had gone with Farid.

  The bell rang and Jake decided to go and talk to Mr. Lewis. Maybe he could get an answer to some of the questions that now flooded his mind.

  Unfortunately, Mr. Lewis was at the Foreign Language Fair as well.

  Finally, Jake made it home and flopped on his bed, exhausted and depressed. He dropped his hand lazily on the floor which, instead of resting on his room’s brown shag-rug, fell onto the green and gold carpet.

  17. Flight for Friends

  “So,” Hillary said with a grin as Jake walked into her house later that afternoon. “I hear that you’re going to blow up the whole school.”

  Jake looked down at the ground. “Oh, you heard about that, huh?”

  “I leave you alone for one day and you wind up a terrorist?”

  Jake gave a half-smile. There was something about the way that Hillary was joking, somehow it made everything better.

  “I hate that guy!” Jake said shaking his head.

  “Well, Abel’s been going through a lot lately,” Hillary said.

  Jake stared at Hillary. “You’re defending him?”

  It felt like a betrayal. How could she go from friend to foe so quickly?

  “Not at all, Jake,” Hillary said calmly. “I’m just saying that maybe there’s a reason he’s being such a jerk. His mom is dying of cancer.”

  “Oh,” Jake pondered that for a moment, a very short moment. “He’s still a jerk!”

  “Yeah,” Hillary agreed.

  “I mean, who does that stuff? Does he honestly think it’s okay?”

  Hillary changed the subject, “Come on, let’s go set up the Game Pro.”

  “Can we talk for a minute?” Jake was bursting to tell Hillary all that had been going on.

  “Sure, let’s go out back,” Hillary said.

  They walked onto the Fischers’ patio overlooking the backyard. Hillary motioned for Jake to follow her past the grassy football area to where there were a few old trees. S
he picked up a football and tossed it to Jake.

  It fell on the ground in front of him.

  “Do you mind? I’ve been cooped up all day at the language fair.” She jogged back a little away from him toward a knotted apple tree.

  “No, sure it’s fine.” Jake picked up the football and tossed it back. It thudded on the ground a foot in front of her.

  Hillary’s mouth was drawn up into a weird line.

  “Ok, not bad,” she said as she jogged over to pick it up.

  “You’re lying,” Jake said.

  She tossed her head back and laughed. “Well, I can tell that you’ve never tossed a football around with your Dad.”

  “I’ve never tossed anything around with my Dad,” Jake had a slightly bitter edge to his voice.

  Hillary gave him a look that said ‘you’re joking.’ “Never? You’ve never played catch with your Dad?”

  Jake shook his head.

  “Ever?”

  “It’s just not something we do in my family.”

  “What do you do?” Hillary walked back up to Jake.

  “We talk. A lot.” Jake paused for a moment. “You know that my Dad’s a professor of Physics, so he’s always talking about some new theorem. I used to like listening to it, but lately…” Jake’s voice trailed off. He didn’t want to get further into his thoughts on that subject.

  “Well, come on,” Hillary said as she held out the football. Jake looked at her quizzically, and she laughed. “Let me show you how to throw. These are the laces —”

  “Hey guys,” Seiya came out to the backyard with a salt shaker in his hand. He said playfully, “Are we having a meeting for our secret club?”

  “No,” Hillary said rolling her eyes, “We’re just tossing the ball around. You in?”

  “In a minute,” Seiya walked up to the tree and pulled off a green apple. He took a bite and sprinkled some salt onto it.

  “Yuck!” Jake said.

  “Naw, it’s really good. Here, try a bite.”

  Jake cautiously tasted it and shrugged, “it’s okay, I guess.”

  “So, Jake,” Hillary said, “let’s get on with our lesson.”

  “Lesson?” Seiya asked.

  “Jake’s never been taught how to throw a ball around,” Hillary said matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah, well that’s obvious,” Seiya said under his breath.

  “That bad?” Jake said as he scrunched up his nose.

  “Well, let’s just say that you don’t seem the type to play sports,” Seiya said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” said Seiya, “it’s the body confidence we were talking about with the skateboard. You haven’t had a lot of opportunity to see that your body won’t fall apart if you use it.”

  “Just like some people don’t have a lot of brain confidence. I mean, Seiya, if you would just exercise that thing once in a while,” Hillary said, pointing at Seiya’s head.

  Seiya grabbed his sister around the neck and gave her a noogie. Jake smiled. He loved being at the Fischers’ house.

  “I give, I give,” a breathless Hillary managed to squeeze out. Seiya released his sister and began to eat his apple again.

  “Watch it!” he said playfully.

  “Oooo, I’ll be careful,” Hillary said in a mocking tone and turned her attention back to Jake. She showed him how to place his fingers on the ball and how to throw a spiral.

  By that time, Seiya had finished his apple and the three of them formed a triangle to practice.

  “Ok, so tell us,” Hillary said, “I mean if it’s ok for Seiya to be here.”

  “Yeah sure, but Seiya,” said Jake, “it’s about that stuff with the carpet, so if you don’t want to hear —”

  Seiya caught Hillary’s pass, “Hey, I’m in the club aren’t I?”

  Jake smiled.

  “Don’t you think we should get Caleb and uh,” Seiya cleared his throat, “Maiya to come over.”

  Hillary shot Seiya a look which he ignored.

  “Well, maybe we could catch them up later?” Jake offered hopefully. His update had been interrupted so many times and he just needed to get everything off of his chest.

  “Oh, yeah, sure,” Seiya backed off of the idea and threw to Jake. The ball ricocheted off his arm and fell to the ground.

  “You gotta catch it, dude!” Seiya playfully chided.

  Jake looked down, “I know.”

  “Hey, I’m teasing. Look, you gotta cradle it like a baby.” Seiya showed Jake how to catch the football and then they commenced the game and the conversation.

  Jake told the Fischers about the book, flying, Farid, the cyborg scorpion, and the weird woman. He took some satisfaction in the fact that he wasn’t the only one dropping the ball.

  “That’s amazing!” Hillary said breathlessly.

  “Yeah, dude!”

  “So this guy, Farid, has the carpet now?” Hillary asked.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Jake said, “Hang on, I left my notebook in the living room.” He ran into the house, grabbed a tattered blue spiral notebook and ran back outside. Hillary and Seiya were waiting for him on the deck, football practice abandoned.

  “Well —” said Hillary impatiently.

  “Yeah,” said Jake and he pulled the shrunken carpet out of his pocket.

  “That’s it?” Seiya blurted out, “It’s so small.”

  Jake nodded, “I can change its size. I learned about it in the book.”

  “How did you get the carpet back?” Hillary asked.

  “Well, that’s just it, I came home from school today and it was in my bedroom.”

  “Wow! Like a dog it just came back?” Seiya asked.

  “Don’t call him a dog,” Jake said defensively.

  “Dude!” Seiya put his hands in the air, “It was just an example.”

  Jake thought about it for a moment. “Okay, sorry. I see what you mean.”

  “So?” Hillary motioned toward the notebook.

  “While I was waiting for you to call, the carpet did some translations and I wrote them down in here.” Jake flipped through some pages to show them.

  Hillary turned the notebook toward herself so she could see it better.

  “The carpet can be used as a portal to transfer the master through the gateway door,” she read.

  “Yeah, I don’t even know what half of it means,” Jake grinned and then pointed to one of his scribbles. “So, look at this one, the carpet will return to its master. See, that’s what happened. I don’t know how, but it came back to me.”

  “So, you’re the Master, huh?” Seiya smiled and punched Jake playfully on the arm.

  “I guess, but I don’t feel like the carpet’s master. I mean, he’s so powerful and I’m …well —”

  Hillary read again, “the carpet can be multiplied when torn if the master has need of more riders. Take heed, when the carpet is not whole, it cannot fully perform its duties. That one seems intense!”

  “Yeah,” said Seiya, “What does it mean, ‘if the master has need of more riders?’ Could we fly on it?”

  Jake scratched his head, “Wanna try?”

  Hillary and Seiya were mesmerized. They nodded their heads in unison, like bobble-head dolls.

  “Okay, let me just ask him,” Jake hopped up from one of the patio chairs and took the carpet over to the lawn and enlarged it.

  “It’s…” Seiya searched for the right word, “magnificent!”

  Hillary smiled and nodded. Jake carefully wiped his shoes on the lawn and stepped on the carpet. It slowly rose off the ground until it reached Seiya’s knee level.

  “Carpet,” Jake said quietly, “these are my friends, Hillary and Seiya. Could they have a ride?”

  The image of Millie’s toothy grin that Jake had taken for a yes came into his mind, followed by an image of Jake ripping a piece of paper.

  “Are you sure you want me to do that?”

  Mill
ie’s smile.

  “Do what?” Hillary and Seiya asked in unison.

  “Okay,” Jake said, a little unsure of what would happen. The carpet landed gently and Jake walked off. He shrunk the carpet to the size of a sheet of lined paper. Then carefully, he took it in his hands and began to rip it, the way he had seen the picture of the paper in his mind.

  It tore in half, as easily as a knife can slice through butter. Miraculously, the two carpet halves looked like identical twins of the whole carpet.

  Jake focused on one, enlarged it, and then did the same with the other.

  “Ok, enjoy,” Jake said, “but don’t go too far or high. It’s daylight and I don’t want anyone to see you.”

  Hillary and Seiya looked at each other, and then wiped their shoes on the grass before standing on the carpets.

  Hillary cocked her head to the side and looked at Jake, “Are you sure that this is okay?”

  Jake smiled, confident in his answer, “I think he cares about you because you care about me. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to fly without those green gob training wheels if it weren’t for you two!”

  The siblings nodded and then, as Jake directed them on foot placement and how to move the carpet, each one pulled up slowly and began to fly. Soon, Hillary and Seiya were soaring and twirling around the trees in the backyard.

  “This is AMAZING!” Hillary yelled.

  “Seriously cool!” Seiya called back. Then they flew past each other and gave a flying high five.

  Jake sat on the porch swing and lazily pushed himself forward and back. He smiled, glad that he could make his friends happy.

  Hillary flew over to the family sport court and picked up a ball which she threw to Seiya. He spiked it back to her and they began to throw it back and forth, using the tree as a makeshift net. They sped around in a two-man, flying-carpet volleyball game.

  Finally, Seiya smoothly glided down to the lawn in front of Jake.

  “Wow!” Seiya began, “you could have some serious fun with that.”

  Jake grinned, thinking about Halloween, “yeah, it’s awesome isn’t it.”

  Hillary soared down next, ran up to Jake and hugged him. “Thanks, Jake. That was probably the coolest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Yeah, no problem. Maybe some time, we can go up and do some serious high flying.” Just saying that made him feel cool.

  “YEAH!” Seiya played an air guitar.

  “I’d better go and see how to put it back together.” Jake walked back to one of the carpets and said, “thank you so much, they really enjoyed it.”

  There was no answer from the carpet.

  “Carpet? How do I put you back together?”

  Again, there was no answer. It was a lonely, eerie silence, not like before when silence was part of their communication.

  “Carpet, please, tell me something.”

  “Jake, what’s wrong?” Hillary asked.

  “I’ve lost communication with the carpet,” Jake looked at Hillary frantically. “I don’t know how to get it back.”

  “It’s got to be something easy,” Seiya offered.

  “Yeah, it wouldn’t have left you without answers,” Hillary grabbed the book and walked over to him. “Maybe, this is what it meant – that as a multiple it didn’t have all of its powers.”

  “Okay,” Jake said, calming a little at Hillary’s theory. He shrank the carpet pieces and taking one in each hand, he brought the side edges toward each other. The fibers fused together as easily as closing a Ziploc bag. Then the carpet took on its whole appearance, as if nothing had happened. The phone in the house began to ring and Hillary ran in to get it.

  Jake quickly enlarged the carpet and stepped on it. “Are you okay?”

  Millie’s grin.

  Jake breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, they loved it.”

  There was no answer, but Jake knew that this time, everything was fine.

  “Hey, Jake,” Hillary called from the porch, “phone for you. It’s Mr. Lewis.”

  “Weird,” said Jake as he pocketed the carpet and ran to the back door. “I wonder what he wants.”

  They walked into the house. Hillary handed Jake the phone and then perched herself on the closest kitchen chair.

  “Uh, hello?”

  “Yes, Jake?”

  “Yeah,” Jake answered.

  “Hello, this is Mr. Lewis.”

  “Hi,” Jake said waiting in an awkward pause.

  “I’m sorry to bother you. Your mother told me that you were at Miss Fischer’s house.”

  “Oh,” said Jake.

  “I need to know if you have seen any more of the Scorpionics.”

  “No,” said Jake.

  “Hmmm,” Mr. Lewis muttered, “wonder what she’s up to.”

  “Pardon me?” Jake asked.

  By this time, Hillary was impatiently staring Jake down, wondering what had just happened.

  “Nothing,” Jake whispered to Hillary who continued to stare. Seiya walked over from the fridge and cracked open a soda. Then he swung his leg over a backward chair and fixed his gaze on Jake as well.

  Jake shot them what he hoped was a he-hasn’t-told-me-anything-yet look.

  “We need to meet and have a talk,” Mr. Lewis finally said.

  “Okay, sure. When?”

  “Well, perhaps after school, before the Christmas break,” Mr. Lewis said tentatively. “Farid and I will both be there.”

  Hillary’s sixth sense had kicked in. She knew that something was going down and began pawing at Jake.

  “What?” she said over and over.

  “Hang on a minute, Mr. Lewis,” Jake said into the phone. Then he put it over his chest to muffle the sound and turned to the siblings. “Mr. Lewis wants to meet and talk after school in the next couple of days.”

  “Thank you,” said Hillary. Then she sat down and began to chew at her nail.

  Jake pulled the phone back up to his ear. “Uh, sorry about that. You were saying?”

  “Fine, fine,” Mr. Lewis assured him. “It’s just that because of the Scorpionics, we need to solidify a plan and you need to know some things.” The teacher hesitated for a moment and then said slowly, “the carpet is gone, Jake. We think that Zharka came and —”

  “I have the carpet.”

  “What?” Mr. Lewis was dumbfounded.

  “It was in my room when I got home from school today.”

  There was a short pause on the teacher’s end. Then his shaky voice said, “I don’t understand. Is it possible?”

  “I have it Mr. Lewis, so you and Farid don’t need to worry,” Jake said it with a harder tone than he meant to.

  “I’m sorry, Jake. He shouldn’t have taken the carpet away from you,” his teacher said in a quiet voice.

  “Did you tell him that you haven’t been training me?” Jake asked.

  “Yes, I assured him that anything that you have learned has not come from me.”

  “Ok,” Jake said, somewhat satisfied.

  “Now, you’re sure you haven’t seen any Scorpionics?”

  “No, not one.”

  “We’ll need to meet after school on Monday,” Mr. Lewis said decisively. “Will you stay after class?”

  “Sure, Monday after school,” Jake repeated back so that Hillary could hear.

  She began to shake her head vigorously.

  “Oh, hang on again a moment.” He turned to Hillary exasperated, “What?”

  “Let me have the phone,” Hillary was so authoritative that Jake immediately handed over the phone. He looked over at Seiya who just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Hi, Mr. Lewis? This is Hillary Fischer.”

  There was a pause.

  “Well, sir, I just wanted to say that maybe after school isn’t the best idea.”

  Another pause as Mr. Lewis spoke.

  Jake watched in wonder.

  “I have something in mind,” Hillary said with a t
winkle in her eye.

  18. Ancestral Talents

  The next day, Jake’s Flying Carpet Club, as Seiya had dubbed them, was assembled in the library meeting room with the addition of Mr. Lewis and Farid. Somewhere, deep inside, where he would never admit it, Jake admired the way that Hillary decisively took control of the group. She made arrangements, did introductions, and gave instructions, including having Jake show the carpet to everyone. He placed it on the long table and Farid let out a visible sigh. Then she turned the meeting over to the adults and sat down.

  “So,” said Farid to Mr. Lewis, “how much should we tell them?”

  “Everything,” said Caleb in his matter-of-fact voice.

  “Enough,” Mr. Lewis said, cutting over Caleb, “enough for them to understand and make the choice.”

  The choice? Jake was intrigued with his teacher and began to listen with an intensity that he usually didn’t have when an educator was present.

  “In order for you to understand what we are about to tell you, I’m going to ask a series of questions,” Farid began as he paced the room like a hungry tiger caged in a zoo.

  “Must we?” Mr. Lewis, who sat at the head of the table, shot Farid a tired look.

  “What, and your plan is another lecture? You put the boys to sleep yesterday.”

  Jake and his friends suppressed laughs and Mr. Lewis waved his hands in a defeated gesture. “Have it your way!”

  There was a weird tension between these two adults. Jake wasn’t quite sure how to process the mood. Didn’t all grown-ups just get along? He wondered.

  Farid stopped pacing, gave a gracious smile and asked, “each of you have interests, uh, skills and talents, yes?”

  The teenagers murmured their agreement.

  “What are they, please?” He said and picked up pacing again.

  Unsure of exactly what he was asking, Jake glanced at Hillary who had a blank look on her face.

  “What talents do you have? Each of you, tell us one talent… one skill that you have,” Farid clarified.

  Jake looked over at Mr. Lewis. The teacher looked bored, as if he had sat through Farid’s little Q&A too many times before.

  “I am a wicked football GamePro player,” Seiya said with a flourish.

  Hillary rolled her eyes, “Well, I can beat you at Uno and my pies are delicious!”

  “Oh, so you can cook,” Farid smiled in a way that indicated progress.

  “And play a mean game of cards,” Hillary added.

  “Cards?” Farid questioned. “I mean skills, young people. What can you do?”

  Caleb, eager to help out said, “Well, my mother calls me a human search engine because I know a lot of stuff. Does that count?”

  “Yes,” said Farid, “how is it that you know all of these things?”

  “I have a photographic memory. It means that all I have to do is read something once and it sticks in my brain. It’s like someone took a picture of the printed page and uploaded it—,” he tapped his temple, “it’s all here. Total recall.”

  That explains a lot, thought Jake as he looked at Caleb with new appreciation and a bit of jealousy.

  “It also helps that I have a voracious appetite for knowledge. I constantly want to learn, anything and everything.”

  “Well,” said Jake putting on his best cocky face, “that’s cool Caleb, but I think I got you beat.” He glanced around at the perplexed look on everyone’s faces. In one breath and with a stuck-up voice, he stated, “I can name all of the shows on TV, weekdays between the hours of three and six. On every channel.”

  “Boo!” Seiya called out and everyone began to laugh. Jake was relieved that they took it that way. That he was a walking TV guide was meant as a joke, but actually, it was not far from the truth.

  “Oh, that’s not a talent, huh?” Jake said with a smile. Hillary threw a wadded up paper at his head and they all jeered.

  “Okay, okay,” Jake said, “I like to make people laugh.” The group protested and Jake said, “Hey, it’s a talent!”

  They laughed and then they turned their attention to Maiya.

  “I really like to paint,” she said with a shy little smile.

  “Excellent,” said Farid, “so now, let’s explore this topic further. Have any of you experienced a paranormal type of talent? Something like Jake’s that defies the laws of reason as we know them?”

  Mr. Lewis finally perked up, wanting to join in the conversation again. He scrutinized the faces in the room.

  “Are there more?” Seiya asked with greedy wonder in his eyes.

  “You said there were others,” Jake stated, “other flyers.”

  “Your turn…” Farid nodded and, turning to Mr. Lewis, opened his arms in a welcoming gesture.

  Jake imagined that there was an ‘I have them all primed and ready for you, and you’re welcome’ meaning to Farid’s look.

  Mr. Lewis stood up and walked across the room to the other head of the table and Farid sat down in the seat that Mr. Lewis had previously occupied.

  “Yes,” said the teacher dramatically, “there are more.”

  Farid cut in, “Carpet riders, fire walkers, and stone movers, and that’s just the beginning. There are many more than you would even believe.”

  “Oh!” Maiya said as if someone slapped her in the face. Everyone turned to look at her but she was staring down at the table.

  “Mai —” Caleb said in a worried tone. Maiya was crimson and looked like she had something caught in her throat.

  The poor girl was obviously disturbed and it was difficult to do anything but watch. Jake tried to stop looking and let Maiya have her privacy, but the spectacle of her emotion drew his stare like observing a freshly caught fish struggling for breath.

  Finally, she knew that she had no other course but to talk. “When you say, ‘paranormal type of talent,’ it could be anything? I mean…” Maiya looked down at the dark wood table, “it doesn’t have to be amazing like flying or anything, does it?”

  She looked up at Mr. Lewis, craving validation.

  “Tell us what has happened to you.” The teacher sounded like he was soothing a frightened animal.

  “Well,” Maiya’s eyes shifted down to the desk again. “I’ve been having some dreams.” She breathed out the word dreams as if it were an embarrassing secret.

  “Dreams?” Farid said with glee as he clapped his hands together. “Fantastic!”

  The sheer energy that Farid brought into the room gave Maiya a measure of courage.

  “They’re not ordinary dreams,” she said. “Not the confusing or the forgettable kind. They’re intense and vivid and I see things. Things that might happen.”

  “What have you seen?” Mr. Lewis was excited, but visibly trying to stay calm.

  Maiya stared at Jake, trying to communicate something telepathically to him. She bit her lip. “I’ve only had a couple of dreams. They’ve both started out on an island.”

  Mr. Lewis and Farid exchanged excited looks.

  “Then Jake was somewhere. He was in a giant white palace. A place of three that are one. He was with a woman of tremendous beauty and fire.” Maiya was in a trance and everyone in the room sat silently, engaged in the story.

  “The woman, she found it! She’s found the door of beasts. She wants Jake to open the door. No, Jake you must not do it. The door should not be opened! … But you do.”

  Maiya shook her head to wake herself up. “That was the dream. That’s where it ended.”

  The study room was silent.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Maiya said disappointedly.

  “Well,” Jake joked, “I guess I just won’t open the door.”

  Maiya smiled gratefully at Jake.

  Farid broke in, “you said that both dreams started at The Island.”

  The Island? Jake was intensely curious at the choice of words.

  “I don’t know which island,” Maiya said.

/>   “No, no,” Farid waved a hand in the air, “you misunderstand me. I’m asking about the second dream.”

  “Oh,” the blood rushed to Maiya’s face and she stared at the table again. Jake hoped that her intense stare would make the table get up and dance – anything to interrupt the awkward embarrassment that almost tangibly flowed from the girl.

  “Go on,” Mr. Lewis said in his soothing voice again.

  Maiya nervously glanced at Seiya. “This one also started at the island, and then there was a fight, I mean, we were going to a fight, but when we got there, we were hidden … um, that’s not right.”

  She shook her head and closed her eyes.

  “We were cloaked. One would come out and strike a blow and then be hidden again. We could see each other, but they couldn’t see us.”

  Maiya’s trance-like state took over again. “Oh no, Seiya!”

  Jake looked over at Seiya, but then realized that she was still talking about her dream.

  “He’s been hurt. He was in the tree and he got hit. The cloaking is off. We’ve got to get out of here, now! Seiya, someone get Seiya, and then I…” Maiya’s dry voice trailed off.

  “That’s all,” she said, but the lie hung in the air.

  “That’s all?” Hillary was upset. “What happens to Seiya?”

  “Um,” Maiya bit at her lip. Hillary had the look of a wild mother bear protecting her cubs.

  “Tell us,” Hillary demanded.

  Maiya was close to tears. “He’ll be fine,” she whispered.

  “How do you —” Hillary began, but Seiya cut in.

  “Does this mean I’m gonna have a super power?” He was delighted.

  Hillary turned. Her ferocity was now aimed in full at her brother.

  “Didn’t you hear what she just said? You’re going to get hurt!”

  “Whoa, Hill,” Seiya said with an impish smile, “calm down. Jake won’t open the door of fire and I won’t climb up a tree in battle. So, everything is fine and I’m gonna have a SU-PER-POW-ER!” He looked like a three-year-old with a brand new action figure.

  “So,” Jake said, excited that he wasn’t the only one. “What is your power?”

  “I’m not sure,” Seiya said and then he looked expectantly back and forth between the two adults, like a dog holding a leash, ready for someone to take him out for a walk.

  Farid motioned to Mr. Lewis, who was only too happy to oblige. “Mr. Fischer, am I correct in assuming that you are part Japanese?”

  “Yeah,” he said, “obviously, but what — ”

  “It seems,” Mr. Lewis continued, ignoring Seiya’s sarcasm, “that these ‘powers’ as you call them, are linked to your ancestral line.”

  “You know the stories that your forefathers tell, about supernatural-type abilities? These powers are manifesting themselves in their descendants.” Farid said, and then the room was quiet as the group tried to process what they had just heard.

  Jake was trying to keep focused. He had almost reached the information overload point. He took the silent moment to look around the room. Hillary was nodding her head, taking in Farid’s big reveal. Seiya was bursting to know more about his ‘super power.’ Caleb looked like he was about to explode with questions and Maiya was exhausted.

  Mr. Lewis broke the silence.

  “We like to call them Ancestral Talents. We’ve been around the world acquiring,” he paused and gave a little cough, “the talents of the youth to help engage in the conflict.”

  “The conflict?” Seiya asked.

  “The woman that sent the Scorpionics is Zharka. I believe that she’s the same woman that you saw in your dream, Maiya. The one of great beauty and fire. She has been gathering people with those talents and is always working to gain more power.”

  “Don’t tell me, she wants world domination!” Seiya grinned.

  “As trite as it may sound, Mr. Fischer, she is bent on power, and she has a lot of potent items of historical value that can help her overthrow governments and systems of order,” Mr. Lewis said.

  “She’s a monster!” Farid spat out, to no one in particular.

  “There may be some good in her, Farid,” Mr. Lewis said.

  “There is no good!”

  “But she gave so much assistance in Prague,” Mr. Lewis was adamant.

  “She must have been under some sort of spell or impaired judgment, maybe multiple personality disorder, although, I’m not sure on that one. The point is that we’ve talked about this so many times, Rex. There is nothing but toxic blood coursing through her veins,” Farid insisted.

  Suddenly the conversation was very interesting to Jake. It was exciting to see the two argue.

  “Prague?” Caleb submitted.

  “We had a run in with her several years ago. We were after the same artifact. She took the one we were after, but gave me information to help with our escape,” Mr. Lewis said.

  “Well, agree to disagree,” Farid said with a wave of his hand.

  “So,” asked Caleb, “why haven’t we heard of all of this before?”

  “The talents have just recently reappeared in civilization. It seems that our ancestors had these powers because they had a need for them. Imagine how fast a flying carpet is to a civilization without cars, or planes!” Mr. Lewis said.

  Jake hadn’t really considered what life would have been like without cars.

  Mr. Lewis continued to explain, “The other reason that our ancestors had these talents was because they had belief in the existence of things beyond the natural senses. With the advent of the modern technological age, mankind didn’t have a need to stretch their powers of faith in the metaphysical. They turned to technology and lost their abilities.”

  “Then, why have the talents reemerged, and why haven’t we heard of them?” Caleb countered.

  “We are not completely sure why they have resurfaced after all this time —” Mr. Lewis began, but Farid cut him off.

  “We have many theories, but now is not the time to go into the details of our research.”

  “Yes,” their teacher said with a sigh. “There are some other things that we need to discuss at the moment. As to the question of why you haven’t heard of it, it started small. However, every year as people begin to believe again, those with talents grow in number.”

  Farid continued on this thread, “We’ve spent most of our time in other areas of the world, only recently coming to the United States to look for talents.”

  “Why?” Hillary asked.

  “Well,” Mr. Lewis began, “The US has such a combination of different individuals. In most countries, we are familiar with their legends, so we know what to look for and how to help bring the talents out in the individual. Here, people come from all over the world and then mix together. You never know what you’ll find.”

  “Case in point,” Farid said as he pointed to Jake

  “Ahh, yes, Jake,” Mr. Lewis said turning his attention to the boy. “Your ancestral report in class was… how should I put this… less effective?”

  Jake’s face grew hot as the teacher continued.

  “I told you that this was important. Legends of the Lochness Monster and leprechauns from your English ancestors?” He threw up his hand in frustration and Jake recalled the pull-it-out-of-thin-air job that he had done on the report.

  Mr. Lewis continued, “We have absolutely no idea why you are The Rider, it doesn’t seem to be in your blood.”

  “And to be The Flyer of this carpet,” Farid took over from Mr. Lewis.

  “Why, what’s so special about this carpet?” Seiya asked and Jake appreciated both the defense and the interruption of the chiding.

  “This,” Farid turned and looked at the carpet on the table, “is the carpet of legend. Sinbad, King Solomon, Aladdin – there are about a hundred different stories about this magic carpet. Some say that it came at the dawn of time, from the cradle of civilization, others believe that it wa
s woven at Persepolis during the golden age of my people.”

  “Persepolis?” Jake’s interest piqued.

  “Yeah,” said Hillary, “that’s where they found those tablets in your book.”

  Jake nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, yes, remarkable find!” Farid stated. “Now to the problem, these talents usually follow bloodlines. You don’t seem to be from, excuse the phrase here, the right type.”

  There was an edge to Farid’s voice that was unmistakable.

  Mr. Lewis cleared his throat. “Jake, it is important that you find out where your ancestors come from. We need every piece of knowledge available. You may have more talents, the likes of which —”

  Mr. Lewis paused, thinking through what he was about to say. “Well, anyway, we need to understand why you are the flyer of this carpet.”

  “Well, I do know that I am part English,” Jake said, trying to be helpful.

  “Unless those English ancestors were part something-that-we-can-tie-to-the-Middle-East it doesn’t help, because so far,” Mr. Lewis began to angrily yank his tight collar’s top button, “the only flyers coming out of that place are in the RAF.”

  “Royal Air Force,” Caleb said to answer Jake’s questioning glance.

  “I’ll find out,” Jake said. He hadn’t seen his teacher like this before.

  “Mr. Lewis?” Caleb raised his hand.

  “Yes, Mr. Jones.”

  “What Ancestral Talent will Seiya have and when can we expect it will start manifesting itself?” Caleb asked glancing at his notes.

  “According to your sister’s dream and the fact that Mr. Fischer’s heritage is part Japanese, I think it’s safe to believe that he will have the power of the ancient Ninja warrior; the ability to hide things in plain sight,” Mr. Lewis gave Seiya a sideways glance.

  “That’s FREAKIN’ AWESOME!” Seiya threw his hands in the air in celebration. “Do you know what I can do with that power? Will I be Mr. Invisible? ”

  Mr. Lewis gave his usual tired smile, “something like that, yes.”

  “But,” cut in Farid, “it’s far greater than what you can do for yourself. It is vital to learn how you can use the gift to help others.”

  Seiya looked at Farid like he was from another planet. “What?” The word hung on his tongue.

  “I believe Maiya was saying that you could hide others, meaning, the others who were fighting,” Farid began.

  “The more you learn how to use your talent, the more people you’ll be able to cloak.” Mr. Lewis was trying to explain it, but Jake was getting hungry, and he was afraid that his teacher was going to go into another lecture.

  “Hey, anyone else hungry?” Jake piped in. Hillary rolled her eyes and reached into her backpack. She tossed an orange to Jake and then shushed him. Jake grimaced at the fruit, but his stomach was beginning to growl and so he began to peel it. He broke the orange into sections and passed it around the table so that everyone could have a piece. Maiya shuffled through her bag and pulled out some Trial mix. With a smile, she gave it to Jake who took a handful and passed it along.

  Farid, who had been watching snack-time unfold, turned to Mr. Lewis. “I wish the Alliance worked this well together.”

  The teacher drew in some air and nodded. Caleb, who had been rummaging for jerky to add to the feast, perked up.

  “The Alliance?” and then wrote the word in his notebook, and gazed at the men ready for more explanations.

  Seiya broke in, “hey, since when did you all become the-traveling-buffet-line?”

  Jake had been wondering the same thing. “Yeah, what kind of posters should I put up in the library cafeteria today?”

  The group sniggered.

  “And,” Seiya continued, “when can I expect to be a superhero?”

  Hillary snorted loudly and Mr. Lewis sighed.

  “First, you’ll have to find your Ân Dhúin,” he said.

  19. Ân Dhúin

  “Your awndoon?” Jake questioned. “Do I have one?”

  “Say it like he did, Jake,” Hillary nudged him. “Ân Dhúin,” she repeated perfectly.

  “That’s exactly what I said, awndoon,” Jake shot back.

  “You’re sounding like a hick,” Hillary informed him.

  Caleb jumped in, “don’t say awn, say a crisp ‘on’ sound.”

  Jake was feeling a little annoyed with the language lesson, but he humored his friend. “On,” he said, repeating Caleb’s sound.

  “And the second part sounds like it is from a Celtic root word, if I’m not mistaken,” Caleb eyed his teacher for approval, which he received in the form of a nod.

  “Jake, say ‘Dune’ like you’re speaking Celtic, not so … well, ‘hick-ish’ to quote Hillary,” Caleb then looked toward his classmate seeking her approval, which he got in the form of a smile.

  Jake was really annoyed.

  “Andune, happy?” He didn’t mask the sarcasm that he spat out. “So, since you’re all experts on andunes and I can’t seem to say it right, enlighten me, what is it?”

  The adults, who had been mesmerized with the conversation suddenly shot to life at the need for referees.

  “The Ân Dhúin is like a talisman of sorts, something that seems to channel or fuel the power,” said Mr. Lewis, who stood and walked to the white board at the front of the room in full professorial pomp and ceremony, ready to lecture.

  Thankfully, Farid came to the rescue.

  “The Ân Dhúin, in the case of a flyer, for example, is the carpet itself. Obviously,” he pointed from Jake to the carpet on the table, “in the case of young Jake here, if there were no carpet, he couldn’t fly.”

  Seiya clapped his hands together with glee. “Ok, so what’s the Ân Dhúin for an ancient ninja, a Samurai sword or something?”

  “Yes, maybe if your power involved fighting,” said Mr. Lewis, “but yours deals with the ancient art of hiding in plain sight. Disguise, almost illusion.”

  “So,” said Caleb catching on, “it would have to be something that leant itself to that power.”

  “Typically, yes, though not always,” Mr. Lewis confirmed.

  “Just like flying with the carpet,” Hillary added.

  Yeah, well we got that Hillary, thought Jake. He was still upset at her for the language lesson. He expected one from Caleb, but not her.

  “Disguise, hiding, illusion,” Hillary muttered, and then looked up with a sparkle in her eyes. “A mask?”

  Farid and Lewis nodded their approval and Hillary turned her attention to her brother. “You know, like the Noh masks that Mom has hanging in the living room.”

  “Oh,” Seiya said, not hiding his disappointment.

  Jake thought about the heavy, wooden masks that decorated the Fischers’ front room. They were colorful and well crafted, but they were hardly ninja material. One had devil’s horns, another was like a delicate porcelain doll, and the third was a smiling old man with a long white beard.

  Mr. Lewis smiled kindly. “The masks are used for the Noh or Nogaku performances. Classical musical dramas, performed as early as the 14th century. Yes, the masks are powerful. They have the ability to change another’s emotions, for those that hold that talent. Perhaps you will, Hillary.”

  Hillary’s face lit up as she contemplated the thought.

  “Didn’t the ninja wear a mask of their own?” Caleb asked.

  Mr. Lewis smiled again, “the shinobi shozoku was the traditional clothing of those practicing ninjutsu. Of course, typically, during Japanese feudal times, if they did wear the shinobi shozoku, it would only be during night attacks, and the color of the kit would change depending on the —”

  Farid cut into the lecture, “we’ve found that the Ân Dhúin for those that have this particular gift is the typical mask of a ninja.”

  “Awesome!” Seiya was ecstatic, like a teenager finding out that his first car wasn’t going to be an embarrassment.

  “And you
—” Farid turned to Maiya and stared at her intently.

  “Are you perhaps Jewish?” Mr. Lewis cut in. “In the Bible, there are all sorts of dream interpreters — Joseph of Egypt and Daniel in King Nebudchenezzar’s court.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Maiya thoughtfully. “I made a dream catcher with my grandmother this summer and hung it by my bed.”

  Mr. Lewis and Farid threw up their hands and in perfect unison exclaimed, “Of course!”

  “I don’t get it,” Caleb stated. “We’re African American.”

  “I made it with Grandma Noni, Caleb, not Nana.”

  “Oh,” Caleb said.

  He was noticeably embarrassed, but quickly recovered from being caught without the facts, and began to speak in his usual, knowledgeable tone, “Grandma Noni is Cherokee. She’s our great–grandma, but she doesn’t look as old as she is. Many Indian tribes believed that the dream catcher would carry your bad dreams away.”

  Mr. Lewis nodded in agreement, “and some believed that they would bring good dreams or warnings.”

  “I guess we found your Ân Dhúin,” Seiya said grinning at Maiya.

  “Well then,” Mr. Lewis said as he surveyed the room, “that’s fine, just fine. The next item that we need to discuss…”

  Farid cleared his throat, “perhaps we have taken up too much of your time.”

  “Farid, there is so much more that they need to know.”

  “Yes, yes,” he said, “but my friend, remember – you can lead a camel to water, but you can’t expect it to drink the whole lake.” Then he motioned for Mr. Lewis to look at the kids.

  If thoughts were like water in the analogy, then Jake was full to the brim. Hillary and Maiya looked exhausted. Seiya had stopped drinking the moment he found out about his ancestral talent. Caleb, notebook open and pen at the ready, was the type to never get full. He had been drinking in knowledge and was still parched.

  “Fine, we’ll meet again another time,” the teacher agreed. “Meanwhile, learn all that you can about history and keep your eyes and ears open for Zharka.”

  “That’s right, that woman,” Jake said. “But I have a million questions about her, and the carpet, and —”

  “We’ll discuss it later,” there was a finality to Mr. Lewis’ voice that ended any other queries that the students may have had. Even Caleb closed his notebook.

  “Be careful, young Jacob,” Farid warned. “If you see anything unusual, let us know. I’ll be watching you as well.”

  The group gathered their things and slowly walked out of the library.

  “But, if I do see a cyborg-scorpion, what do I do?” Jake called after Farid a few minutes later at the front of the building.

  “Pray,” Farid said and walked across the street to his Gullwing.

  Mr. Lewis put a hand on Jake’s shoulder, “don’t worry, Jake. Farid will be watching over you and he always has a few tricks.”

  The gesture of comfort shown by his teacher did not fulfill its intended emotion. Jake had a strange desire to start biting his nails. However, when his dad came to pick him up after the meeting, a new problem began to occupy his mind.

  “I have some bad news,” Jake’s dad said as Jake got in the van and buckled his seatbelt.

  “Someone from the Department of Defense called Grandma today. Mark is missing,” his dad said it slowly.

  “What do you mean, he’s missing?” Jake asked.

  “He disappeared on assignment.”

  “But, they know where to look for him, right?” Jake was blinking hard, trying to process the information.

  “Apparently he’s been missing for several months. They’ve done searches, but they just don’t know where he is.”

  “He can’t just disappear. How long have they been looking? Where was he last? Who saw him?” Jake began shaking with anger which he targeted toward his father, as if his dad were the responsible party.

  “I’m sorry, Son. That’s all the news we got,” his dad was trying to be calm.

  Jake sat in silent shock for the remainder of the car ride. As soon as they parked in the driveway, Jake whipped open the car door and then slammed it as hard as he could, like Millie throwing a tantrum. He walked to the front door of the house, but what he wanted to do was go back and slam the car door a few more times.

  That seemed too childish, so he settled on leaving a trail of noise behind him. CRASH went the front door, STOMP, STOMP STOMP up the stairs. He even ignored the smell of burnt plastic coming from the kitchen, as he gave a final dramatic WHAM with the bedroom door.

  None of that helped, so he threw himself on the bed and lay there, trying to find a way to make his mind go comatose.

  He couldn’t. His thoughts were as chaotic as bumper cars. A new one would come in and another would knock it out of the way. There was no progress, just ideas colliding into each other, going nowhere.

  He thought about whether or not his uncle had died. He thought about the connection between Mark and Farid and wondered what it was. He thought about his friends and which talents they might have. He wondered if the woman, Zharka, was going to come after him. Would she take the carpet, and what did Maiya’s dream mean?

  After a while, Jake decided that there was only one thing to do. Take his mind off of it all with liberal helpings of food and TV.

  ‘Slap Happy Hour’ should be starting right about now, he thought.

  He rolled off of his bed and instinctively put his hand in his jeans pocket. He’d been keeping the carpet in smaller form and carrying it around in case he saw another Scorpionic and needed to fly, or saw Abel and needed some courage. As he put his hand flat on the carpet in his pocket, he suddenly got the distinct impression that somehow, Uncle Mark and the woman, Zharka, were connected.

  20. Tarezh

  For the next few months, Jake heard nothing about his uncle. He heard nothing from Farid. He heard nothing but historical lectures from Mr. Lewis. It was all very frustrating for Jake, but at least he had his friends to keep him occupied. Mr. Lewis had given Seiya a ninja mask, and they were trying to see if Hillary or Caleb had talents like their siblings. They began meeting together every Saturday to practice and study.

  On the first Saturday in April, Jake was late getting to the Fischers’ after his dad had cornered him and talked about his theories for an hour. Finally, he was able to break away and as soon as he reached the house, went straight into the backyard.

  No one was there, but Jake called out anyway.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Jake,” Hillary called out.

  “Where are you?” Jake said scanning her backyard from the porch.

  “By the apple tree. Hang on, I’ll come over to you.” Hillary’s movement was enough to jar Seiya’s protective covering and for a split second, Jake could see the Jones siblings standing near her.

  “Wow, he’s getting good. He’s got all four of you hidden now?” Jake said as Hillary jogged over to him.

  “Yeah, but don’t tell him about it. That ego can’t take any more!” Hillary said. “Come on, help me get lunch together. I have a birthday surprise planned afterwards.”

  “Aw!” Jake smiled, “you remembered.”

  “Well, you’re thirteen now, that’s a big deal…” she playfully hit his arm, “teenager!”

  They walked together into the kitchen and started making sandwiches.

  “Did you ever talk with Mr. Lewis about your uncle disappearing?” Hillary asked as she dipped her knife in peanut butter.

  “Yeah, well, I told him, but he acted really weird. He said he’d have Farid look into it.”

  “Farid?” Hillary dipped the peanut butter knife in the jelly.

  “Gross,” Jake said. “That’s so nasty.”

  “What?” Hillary looked around in wonder.

  Jake pulled a clean knife out of the drawer and handed it to his friend. “This way, you won’t get peanut butter streaks in
the jelly.”

  Hillary rolled her eyes.

  “Farid,” she repeated.

  “I don’t know why. Somehow, everything seems like it’s connected, but Mr. Lewis won’t tell me a thing. Farid’s fighting battles with Zharka and the alliance is ‘engaged in the conflict’.” Jake sarcastically mimicked his teacher’s voice.

  “Well,” Hillary said as she purposely dipped her knife in both condiments and slathered the mix onto a fresh piece of white bread, “maybe they’d get us involved if you’d do your ancestry report.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Jake

  Hillary stopped prepping and stared at Jake. Jelly began to slide to the end of the knife and threatened to make a pool on the counter. “For four months?”

  “It’s not that easy to talk to my Dad,” Jake protested and moved her hand over so that the jelly would fall on the bread. “I tried to bring it up today, but he got lost in a tangent. All I get from him is that my ancestors came over on the Mayflower.”

  “Hmmm,” Hillary muttered.

  After a few minutes, lunch was ready and Hillary and Jake were on the back patio trying to spot Seiya, Caleb and Maiya.

  “Ok, where are you guys?” Hillary said while folding and setting out napkins.

  “Oh, you can take the time to fold napkins, but you can’t bother to use a different knife for your condiments?” Jake grinned as he said it.

  Hillary rolled her eyes again.

  “You’d better watch it with those eyes — they’ll get stuck up in the back of your head,” Jake said in a tone of mock concern.

  Hillary chose to ignore Jake. “Come on you guys, lunch!”

  Maiya moved out from the old swing set, breaking the field.

  “Aw, Maiya,” Seiya groaned. He pulled off a black mask and both he and Caleb came into view. Maiya was holding a birthday cake and Caleb a bouquet of balloons.

  “SURPRISE!! Happy birthday!” They all yelled as they ran up to the back porch.

  “I am so totally touched, how did you remember?” Jake smiled and accepted the balloons and tied them to his chair.

  Seiya playfully hit him on the back of the head. “Well, it’s not like you haven’t mentioned it …” Then he spotted lunch, “Oh good, PB & J for a change!” Seiya’s sarcasm was fully evident.

  “You’re wel – come,” Hillary shot back.

  After eating, they went to the middle of the yard. Seiya wanted to try to hide them all at the same time, so they lay close together on the ground while he experimented.

  “Look, there’s a lion in that cloud over there,” said Hillary.

  “What, are you five years old?” Jake teased Hillary, “Come on, Seiya. I know you can cover all of us.”

  “I see a rockin’ Ninja warrior,” Seiya said, not wanting to get to work just yet. His comment earned him a poke in the ribs from his sister.

  “I see…” Maiya was pointing into the sky, “well, something. See it over there? That dark blob.”

  “Probably an airplane,” Caleb said matter-of-factly.

  “It looks too small to be a plane, and it’s not going in a straight line,” Maiya said back.

  Caleb squinted into the sky, as if his glasses didn’t work, “It’s probably some sort of bird. Look at the way it’s circling.”

  “I don’t think it’s a bird,” said Hillary, “it’s kind of big.”

  They watched the dark spot flying around for a few minutes.

  “It kind of looks like it’s coming right toward us,” Jake said, straining to get a closer look.

  “That’s not one of those scorpion things, is it, Jake?” Hillary asked.

  “No, it looks too big for that,” Jake said confidently.

  “But it is coming this way,” said Seiya.

  “Could it be a person?” Maiya wondered.

  Jake sat up quickly. “No…well … maybe,” he stared into the sky, willing his eyes to see.

  Suddenly, the dark spot began to speed up.

  Seiya sat up and he and Jake looked at each other, sharing an unspoken thought, Zharka’s coming for us.

  “Maybe we should hide, just to be sure,” Jake said.

  “I can’t hide five of us yet,” Seiya said, feeling helpless.

  Hillary jumped up, “it’s ok, I’ll hide myself.”

  “Hill —” Seiya called out after her.

  “Seriously, Sei — take care of them, I’ll be fine. It’s probably nothing.” Hillary ran off toward the lilac bushes.

  Seiya put his mask on carefully, first the part that covered his mouth and nose, and then the part that covered his head. Closing his eyes momentarily, he cleared his mind, and began to concentrate. Jake watched his arm as the skin turned the color and texture of the grass below. He loved the chameleon-like powers his friend possessed.

  By this time, they could see that the figure in the sky was unmistakably a man on a carpet, coming at an amazing speed right toward the spot where they lay.

  Jake’s whole body was tense. He didn’t know if the rushing feeling down his spine was a wave of panic or adrenaline, and wasn’t sure what to do with either emotion. So he lay there, watching, hoping that he looked enough like the grass, and wondering if the rider was friend or foe.

  The flyer pulled up just before he hit the ground and called out, “Hider! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” It was an odd American expression for a flyer with mocha skin and a heavy Middle Eastern accent.

  “No?” said the flyer. He began slowly circling the perimeter of the yard. Then he effortlessly jumped off of the carpet, which stayed suspended in the air. He ran toward the lilac bush. Hillary ran from behind, away from the young man. He used the fence of the yard to corner her. Showing her athleticism, Hillary faked left and ran right. The flyer was confused for a short moment and then put on a burst of speed. He caught Hillary in his muscular arms and carried her over to the middle of the yard.

  “Stay where you are!” Hillary called out.

  “You think?” He leered at his hostage and pulled a scorpion out of his pocket, holding its tail toward her neck. “Shall I let the scorpion have some fun?”

  If Seiya hadn’t broken the force just then, Jake’s mixed up emotions of adrenaline and fear would have, and it wouldn’t have been pretty. The kids jumped up and stood in front of the stranger and his prize.

  “There now,” said the flyer as he pocketed the scorpion and pushed Hillary toward her friends. Seiya grabbed his sister and stood in front of her in a big-brother protective stance. Jake noticed that Caleb was doing the same thing with Maiya. He felt like his masculinity was being called into question, as he had no one to protect. To keep himself occupied, he decided to take note of the flyer’s physical features so that he could witness and report.

  He looked a few years older, Jake guessed, maybe in his late teens judging by the fact that he had a five-o-clock shadow. His dark hair hung in shoulder-length curls and he had intense blue eyes. Jake couldn’t think of any other way to describe him, so he focused in on the situation.

  “So, you are the new Hider?” He motioned to Seiya who gave a slight nod.

  “I am Tarezh. Forgive the intrusion,” he gave a stiff bow and looked pointedly at Hillary, “it seemed you might not come out to meet me without some sort of incentive.”

  “Why are you here?” Seiya asked.

  “I have two messages for you,” Tarezh said. “The first is for the new Hider, an open invitation for fame, glory, and riches, by joining my mistress, Zharka.”

  “Lucky me,” Seiya said in a flat tone.

  Tarezh tilted his head back and laughed. As he did, his muscles rippled underneath his tight cotton tunic. Then the laughter turned to a smile, and his white canine teeth glistened, making him look like a wolf.

  “Well, Hider, should you change your mind, you can call us with this,” he pulled the cyborg-scorpion back out and tried to give it to Seiya who knocked it away. It fell to the ground, and curl
ed up in a ball.

  Jake jumped back a little, worried that it might strike, but it lay dormant in the place where Seiya knocked it.

  “Such a poor decision,” Tarezh seemed to “tsk” Seiya, “but not everyone is destined for the same greatness.”

  “How did you know about him?” Hillary demanded.

  “We make it our business to know whenever a new talent surfaces,” Tarezh smiled mysteriously.

  “We would have sent someone sooner, but you’ve only just started learning, I believe.”

  “Hey,” Seiya said defensively, “a few months ago.”

  “Yes, yes,” Tarezh said in a mocking tone, “that’s why you can hide so many.”

  He looked over the group and focused his attention on Jake.

  “Zharka has a message for you, fat one. She wants her carpet back.”

  “Uh,” Jake tried to think of something clever to say, but all that came out was, “I don’t have it.” A lame attempt at a lie.

  Tarezh flashed his brilliant smile again. “She thought that you, too, might need some incentive.” He pulled out a picture and handed it to Jake. “A trade. Something of yours for something of hers.”

  “Mark,” Jake whispered as he looked at his uncle, bound and gagged in the photo.

  “We knew that you were a flyer, but you only flew once at the beginning, so it was difficult to pinpoint your location. Then, you began to fly with strength and when we got the footage of you and Farid from the Scorpionic, well, we needed to find out more about you…”

  Jake was annoyed and fascinated at the same time, all he could do was listen as Tarezh went on.

  “We did some research and imagine our surprise to find that you were the nephew of our guest, Commander Bowers.”

  “Why do you have Mark?” was all that Jake could say.

  “He’s a busy man, isn’t he?” Tarezh went on. “Everywhere my mistress goes, there’s that man. He just keeps turning up, nosing around in our business.”

  “My uncle’s MIA in Kazhiristan. He’s a non-commissioned officer,” Jake said shaking his head.

  “Oh,” Tarezh said mockingly, “is that what he told you? How sweet. Trying to protect you, I guess. Your Uncle is a Commander in the U.S. Special Forces. But, you would know that if he really trusted you, yes?”

  Jake’s head was fuzzy. He didn’t want to believe it, but somehow, it made all of the pieces fit together.

  “You’re welcome to join us, too. We always need new flyers, though —” Tarezh looked Jake up and down with distain, “some don’t seem to have the disposition.”

  The visitor paused for a moment, shook his head and said, “I can’t believe that you fly Tangura. You can’t possibly be a flyer, on any carpet, let alone that one.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jake’s hand flew instinctively to his pocket. Hillary grabbed his arm and shook her head.

  “No, little one? Or should I say, large one? A flyer is always at the ready, and you don’t look like you’ll ever be ready.” Running toward the carpet that was still elevated, Tarezh vaulted himself into the air with a handspring and landed perfectly in the center. Then he circled the group with his arms folded, each muscle flexed.

  “One more thing, boy,” Tarezh spat at Jake. “Tell Farid that Zharka will not release your uncle unless you are there with the carpet. She has a task for you to perform.

  Just before he flew off he turned and said with a final leering smile, “See you soon!”

  Jake was in shock. She has Uncle Mark. I’ve got to get him.

  “I gotta go, I gotta get Mark,” Jake stammered. He looked dazed.

  Hillary grabbed Jake’s arm and said, “we have to talk to Mr. —”

  “Hang on,” Seiya said, motioning to the Scorpionic. He grabbed a bat from the shed and began whacking at the shell. Flipping it onto the end of the bat, he smashed it into the Fischer family fire pit and called, “grab the matches, Hill.”

  As Hillary ran into the house, Seiya doused the fire pit and Tarezh’s gift with lighter fluid.

  “Careful,” Caleb warned, “That’s a lot.”

  Seiya ignored Caleb, gave a final douse of lighter fluid and grabbed a match from Hillary. Every one backed away. Seiya lit the match and then threw it into the pit, which ignited in a tiny explosion.

  “Awesome!” Caleb, Jake, and Seiya were mesmerized by the flame like prehistoric cavemen.

  Maiya leaned over to Hillary and said, “Ok, I know this is bad of me to say, but he almost tackled you and carried you over here.”

  “Yeah, my heart was pounding! Is it awful to admit that I thought that he was cute?”

  “He was so cute!” Maiya confirmed.

  Hillary bit at her lip, “Yeah, like bad boy cute! Did you see his eyes?”

  “Did you see his hair?”

  The girls began to giggle, which made the boys look up for a moment, shrug shoulders and then stare again into the fire as the Cyborg-Scorpion screeched and popped.

  “Should we be watching this?” Caleb wondered. “It’s sort of inhumane.”

  “But, I can’t seem to take my eyes off of it!” Seiya mock whispered.

  “We have to do this,” Jake was determined. “She’ll be able to spy on us, and who knows what else with this thing.”

  “How did she know?” Seiya asked. “I mean, she knows who I am, but how did she know that you were here?”

  “I don’t know. But now, I have to find her,” Jake said quietly.

  “Do you want me to call Mr. Lewis and Farid?” Hillary and Maiya had stopped their boy banter and were focused on the situation.

  “Yeah,” Jake pulled his gaze away from the flames, “they’ll know what to do and where she’s keeping Mark.”

  “I’ll get him on the phone,” Hillary said and jogged into the house.

  Jake, still stunned, unconsciously put his hand in his pocket. As he ran his fingers over the miniaturized carpet, he got a faint impression that he needed to tell it what was going on. Jake shrugged off the idea. Any moment his teacher would be on the phone and he wanted to know what Mr. Lewis would say.

  A few minutes later, they were sitting on the Fischers’ patio chairs, listening intently to Hillary’s recounting of Tarezh’s visit. Then, the teacher wanted to talk to Jake.

  “Uh, hello,” Jake’s voice was shaky.

  “Jake, have you ever transported on the carpet before?”

  “What, like ridden on it?” Jake thought that maybe his teacher had gone nuts.

  “No, I mean have you used the portal transport?”

  The portal transport. Jake vaguely recalled something about it in the book. “Yeah, I think I read something about it.”

  “Good,” Mr. Lewis sounded relieved. “I need you to do a portal transport tonight to the Island.”

  “The Island?” Jake questioned.

  “It’s our base of operations,” the teacher said in a way that told Jake that more information would not be given over the phone. “Do you have pen and paper?”

  “Just a second,” Jake held the phone away from his ear. “Does anyone have something to write with?”

  Caleb, ever prepared, pulled a small notebook and pen from out of his pants pocket.

  “Ok,” Jake said into the phone.

  “Write this down,” the teacher commanded.

  Jake wrote, Alliance Island and the latitude and longitude of the place in Caleb’s notebook.

  “If you’ve never been to the place before and you are the one opening the portal, you need some sort of direction to it. We’ve found that specific coordinates are the best. After you have been there, when opening the portal, you can just visualize the destination and the portal will take you there.”

  “Okay, got it,” Jake confirmed.

  “Now, Mr. Bowers,” Mr. Lewis continued. “I want you to transport on the carpet tonight at eight o’clock your time. Everything will be prepared and I’ll meet you there.”

  “
I’ll be there,” Jake nodded, preoccupied with how to phrase his next question. “Mr. Lewis, do you think we’ll be able to get my uncle?” There was a lump in his throat, and so he coughed and hoped that no one could tell.

  The teacher’s tone suddenly sounded soft and caring, very different from his usual intellectual persona. “We’re going to try, Jake.”

  Jake didn’t know whether to feel hopeful or worried.

  “Normally, I wouldn’t ask you to come along considering the danger. However, since you seem to be the only one on the planet that can fly that carpet, I have to ask you to come. Our plan will demand it.”

  A chill ran down Jake’s spine, and he wondered if he were brave enough. Then he thought of his uncle.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes,” Jake said with a sense of new found courage.

  “Maybe, if we give her the carpet, we can buy ourselves some more time,” Mr. Lewis sounded like he was talking to himself.

  Give her the carpet? It took a moment for the stinging words to sink in. “What? You’re going to give it to her?”

  “You misunderstand me, Son,” Mr. Lewis said in a soothing tone. “I have a plan. Just be here at eight your time. Sharp!”

  There was a click that signaled the end of the conversation.

  21. Portal Transport

  Jake stared helplessly at his friends. Do I have to choose between the carpet and Mark? The thought was bitter. How could he choose between water and air when he needed them both so desperately?

  “These coordinates are in the South Pacific, somewhere in the southern hemisphere, between South America and Hawaii. It’s so odd, I didn’t know that there was an island there,” Caleb informed them.

  “So,” said Hillary, piecing everything together, “you’re supposed to go to the Island?”

  “Yeah,” said Jake miserably. “Tonight.”

  “It’s ok,” Hillary said reassuringly, “We’ve got plenty of time to come up with something.”

  A few hours later, their simple plan was in motion. Jake would be sleeping over at the Fischers’.

  “As Seiya’s invited guest, of course,” he informed his mom as her eyebrow arched.

  At six o’clock, he had the book, the carpet, and some sleepover props stuffed in a pillowcase and was in Hillary’s room going over final details. Hillary and Seiya sat on her bed, and Jake was sitting on the carpet with the book.

  “Hey carpet,” Jake said, “do you mind helping with the page about portal transport.”

  A picture of the number 37 came into his mind.

  “Oh, yeah, here it is,” Jake flipped to the correct page. The carpet began to translate the cuneiform writing and put the words into Jake’s brain and he read out loud. “Portal transport is the ability to bring the carpet and rider to a different place a great distance away.”

  “Cool!” said Seiya with his usual grin.

  “Shush,” said Hillary.

  Jake continued, “The master can transport whomever he will through the portal.”

  Hillary was writing down what Jake was saying.

  “Awesome, let’s go!” Seiya was yanking at his ninja mask.

  “Shussssh!” Hillary’s annoyance toward her brother was even more pronounced.

  “The master will place the carpet over a threshold – I think it means doorway, at least that’s the picture I’m getting,” Jake informed them, “The master will speak the words KHE-LAA SUH-RRAA to open the portal and then speak the location. He and associates will walk from one threshold to another.”

  “Well, it sounds easy enough,” said Seiya clapping his hands, “when do we go?”

  Hillary made it a point to ignore her brother, “is there anything else?”

  “Not really, just that to close the portal, the rider brings the carpet through. Well, I mean, picks it up, the thoughts are a mixture of words and images,” Jake said.

  Then he felt a strong impression once again to tell the carpet about the situation.

  “Hang on guys,” Jake said, and he began to replay the day’s events, trying to remember every detail to tell the carpet. “I’ve got an idea, though. I’m going to leave part of you with Hillary so that if Mr. Lewis tries to give you to that woman, I’ll still have you.”

  Jake stopped talking and the three in the room were quiet for a moment, watching the carpet as if waiting for it to give a speech. Then, a series of images came into Jake’s mind. Jake’s face, Seiya holding his ninja mask, the night sky, and the picture of Uncle Mark.

  “Oh, you want us to go right now?” Jake asked.

  “What?” Hillary and Seiya asked in chorus.

  An image of Millie’s grin came into Jake’s mind.

  “But we have everything arranged with Mr. Lewis,” Jake said to the carpet.

  “What is it?” Hillary was anxious.

  “Plus, I don’t know how to fly two people.”

  “Which two people?” Seiya was on the edge of Hillary’s bed ready to rip down the wispy purple canopy curtain.

  “I just don’t know if I can do it alone,” Jake said, and finally turned to look at his friends.

  He was scared. Scared to lose Mark. Scared to lose the carpet. Scared of what Tarezh had said, Zharka has a task for you to perform.

  “What is it?” Hillary asked again.

  “I’m going to leave some of the carpet with you, Hill. Don’t tell anyone, and keep it safe,” Jake said.

  His mind was made up. He had to do something to try and protect the carpet and he had to try and save his uncle. Mr. Lewis and Farid knew what was going on. They were his only hope.

  “I’m going to come,” Seiya stated.

  Jake nodded, “Ok.”

  At least he’d bring Seiya, like the carpet wanted.

  “Me, too,” Hillary said.

  “No,” said Jake firmly. He wanted to protect her. To keep her safe. He was already facing the potential loss of two of the most precious things in his life and he just couldn’t stand it if something were to happen to her. She had been his friend, when no one else at the school had. But he didn’t want to tell her that in case she thought he was being stupid.

  “I need you to, uh, protect the carpet.”

  Just before eight, Jake, Hillary, and Seiya stood in front of the closet door in her bedroom.

  “You sure it will work?” Seiya eyed the closet suspiciously.

  “It’s got a threshold,” Hillary said pointing to the ground. “It goes from one room to the other. Sort of.”

  She bit her lip. “Besides, you don’t want the rest of the family to know what’s going on, do you?”

  “Good point,” Seiya nodded. “Ready?”

  Seiya looked over at Jake, who drew in a breath of air.

  Jake passed off the dull ache in his stomach as nerves, but somewhere deep inside, he knew that anxiety wasn’t the reason he felt sick. It had more to do with the carpet’s wishes; should he take off for the unknown with Seiya? It just didn’t make logical sense, especially since Farid and Mr. Lewis were waiting for them, and knew what to do.

  “Let’s do this,” he said decisively, holding up the carpet and ceremoniously ripping it in two. Jake took one of the identical carpets, shrank it and gave it to Hillary who took it and then shot him her intense-motherly-concern stare.

  “What?” Jake responded. “We’ll be fine.” He gave a half-smile, which was to reassure himself as much as it was intended for Hillary.

  She grabbed and hugged him. Jake noticed that they were the same height, which bugged him, and that she smelt fresh and clean – like fabric softener, which he kind of liked.

  “Ok, let’s go!” Seiya said in a tone that was a mix of annoyance and urgency.

  Hillary let go of Jake and then wrapped her arms around her brother.

  “Love you Sei — be careful! And take care of each other.”

  “Hill —” Seiya said, “we’re good. Just hold down the fort and we’ll see you soo
n.”

  “Ok,” Hillary said. “We’re going to pretend that you guys are at Caleb’s.”

  Seiya shot her an I-don’t-care-we’ve-got-to-get-moving look.

  “I think Maiya will be sleeping here, though.”

  Suddenly Seiya was interested, “really?”

  “Are you ready?” Jake questioned.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Seiya’s attention was drawn back to Jake.

  Ceremoniously, Jake lay the carpet over the door way. Then he stood at the end of it and said, “KHE-LAA SUH-RRAA.”

  In front of him, the closet began to blur, as if Jake had been crossing his eyes.

  “Please take us to Alliance Island, uh —” fumbling in his jeans pocket, Jake found the piece of notepaper and read the rest of the directions.

  Then the scene in front of him refocused into a dark room.

  “Here we go,” he said. With a final wave at Hillary, he turned and slowly began to walk forward. The thresholds of the doors didn’t match up as one continuous room would have. There was a space in the middle and the carpet was a bridge between the two doors.

  The empty abyss underneath the carpet held the night sky in all its brilliance. Jake strained to see the ground below, but all that met his gaze was an ocean of dark mingled with radiant stars. Above him, a vivid red sunset shone red, gold, and orange and the two areas collided dark and light in rays of illuminated discord.

  Jake crossed over into the other room, wondering if the area would be a good place to meditate, well that is, if he ever wanted to just sit and think for long periods of time.

  As he reached the end of the carpet, he noticed that Seiya was following. Jake walked forward into the dark about a foot, hands outstretched, trying to investigate his surroundings while looking for light. His fingers jammed into a wall.

  “Ouch,” he said. Where are we?”

  Seiya reached out his hands in the darkness, and walked into Jake. “Man, sorry! Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, let me just get the carpet.”

  “Let me help,” Seiya said and turning knocked a broom onto Jake’s head.

  “Ouch, dude—”

  “Sorry, this place is so small,” Seiya began.

  “I think we’re in a closet,” Jake said. Do you think that when we portal transport from a closet, we end up in a closet on the other side? That’s kind of funny!”

  “Yeah, turn around,” Seiya said, “the door’s right here. Hillary and her bright ideas.”

  For some reason, Jake thought he heard Hillary’s annoyed snort at her brother’s comment, but since she was back at the house protecting the carpet, he shrugged it off.

  As Seiya walked toward the door his shin crashed into a metal bucket, “Ouch! Man!”

  The two stumbled out of the janitor’s closet into a beautiful hall leaving a trail of littered cleaning supplies behind them. The flooring was an intricate mosaic tile, about a foot of a symmetrical flowering pattern and then a tree similar to the one on the center of the carpet and then the flowering section emerged again. That pattern continued as far as the hall went.

  Jake kicked a sponge back into the closet and was leaning down to pick up the mop handle when a Middle Eastern girl with striking features walked into the hall. She was wearing a black scarf that covered her head and a long black dress that covered her delicate frame.

  “Here you are,” she said with a smile.

  Jake and Seiya stared at the girl.

  “I’m Yasmin. Which one of you is Jake, the Flyer of The Carpet of Legend?”

  Seiya pointed at his friend and said in a loud tone, “This is your guy!”

  “Hi,” Jake’s voice cracked as he said it. He could feel himself flushing and so he tried to make a joke out of the situation.

  “That’s me becoming a man,” he said throwing a cocky look on his face.

  “Nice recovery!” Seiya laughed and gave Jake a slap on the back.

  Yasmin raised an eyebrow.

  Jake couldn’t stop staring at the girl. He had seen women walking around at home with their heads covered. Usually, they were followed by three or four children and were much older. He had never seen a girl, roughly around his age, covered like this before. The sight mesmerized him. Beyond that, she had large brown eyes and a long slender face; making her very lovely. The way that she carried herself was almost regal.

  “They’re meeting in the courtyard, and are ready for you. Please follow me,” she said and turned to walk down the hall. Shrugging their shoulders they smiled and followed the girl.

  Seiya motioned ahead to her and whispered, “That went well!”

  Jake shook his head and then cupped his hands around his face. He pulled a tragic face that he parodied off of Munch’s painting, The Scream.

  Seiya began to laugh. Yasmin stopped and turned around. The boys smiled innocently at her. She turned back and continued to lead them.

  Jake shot wide eyes at Seiya as if to say, “Women!”

  Seiya mouthed the words “I know.”

  As silence seemed necessary to the moment, Jake began to look around the hall at the beautiful artwork that filled the corridor. It felt like they were walking through an art museum, there were pictures of landscapes and marbled statues of people that Jake was sure he should know.

  Finally they came to an arched wooden door which looked heavy to Jake, so as Yasmin began to push, he jogged up and held it open for her.

  Yasmin looked at him and cocked her head to one side. Jake smiled, hoping that he didn’t look too goofy. She walked through the door followed by Seiya, who playfully punched Jake in the stomach. “Another ten points for Jake, the gentleman.”

  “I don’t know, isn’t that what they do in other cultures?” Jake said back with a desperate look on his face. He wondered if there was any way to go back in time and remodel his personality in Yasmin’s eyes as ‘Jake, Rider of the Carpet of Legend’ instead of ‘Jake, the puberty poster child and gentleman doorstop.’

  22. Farid’s Flyers

  Jake and Seiya walked into a courtyard lined with palm trees, and tropical flowers, to Jake, it looked exactly the way Hawaii should look. He hoped that there would be some hulking, tattooed, fire-throwing, warrior Polynesians to help with the mission. The group walked under the foliage which circled around the outside of the courtyard.

  When they were in the inner courtyard, they could see Farid and Mr. Lewis having a heated discussion, standing under a grape arbor in front of a beautiful patio. White lights hung in the trees and giant cream-colored throw pillows lined the comfortable patio couch furniture. There was an uneaten feast of cheese, crackers, and fruit on the adjacent coffee table. It was all straight out of a travel magazine. As they came closer, their teacher tapped his companion on the arm and gestured toward the trio.

  “Ah, welcome friends,” Farid said with a broad smile. His teeth were luminous in the lighting. “What do you think of our hanging gardens of Babylon?” He gestured up and they noticed that the green flora covered the roof tops and cascaded down the three stories of the layered building that surrounded them.

  “It’s really cool!” Jake said with a little too much excitement. He decided to tone it down and tried to sound a little more intelligent. “I mean, it’s a stunning and beautiful garden, is it really from Babylon?”

  The group around him began to laugh.

  “This is a re-creation of one of the seven ancient wonders of the world,” Mr. Lewis said using his teacher voice.

  Sensing that he had made a mistake, Jake quickly recovered with “because the shipping costs from Ancient Babylon these days could kill you!”

  He relished in the laughter, and noticed that this time, even Yasmin’s face held a slight grin around the corners of her mouth.

  Farid smiled warmly and then asked, “So, where did you find them?”

  “They were wandering one of the halls,” Yasmin looked at them with a little twinkle in
her eyes.

  “I’ll go and round up the group,” Farid said as he went to the middle of the open court.

  “So, you’ve met Yasmin,” Mr. Lewis said, “You know, she’s one of the best flyers on this island.”

  The girl gave a modest smile and thanked the teacher.

  “No, I really do mean it,” Mr. Lewis said kindly to her. “Will you be able to go this time?”

  Yasmin’s smile faded and she crossed her fingers and said, “I hope so.”

  “How long have you lived on the island?” Seiya asked as he sat in one of the chairs and spread out making himself comfortable.

  “Since my parents died,” Yasmin said in a quiet voice.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Seiya sat bolt upright and turned red.

  “Farid has become a second father to me and my brother … to many of us here,” Yasmin looked around wistfully.

  Seiya leaned back again and put his feet up on the ottoman, right next to a cheese tray.

  “Mr. Fischer,” their teacher eyed Seiya’s outstretched legs. “What brings you here?”

  “I brought him,” Jake stated. “I thought that maybe he could help cloak us.”

  “Yes, at Zharka’s Palace,” Mr. Lewis said thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea. How many can you cloak at a time now?”

  “I’m good with four and might be able to handle five,” Seiya said, glancing over at Jake who nodded in a full show of support.

  Farid came back to them followed by six young men of Middle Eastern descent. Each one carried a shrunken carpet and was dressed in black material similar to Yasmin’s clothing. With noticeable pride, Farid stated, “Jake, these are my Riders.”

  Jake smiled and nodded at the group, feeling incredibly self-conscious. “Hello,” he said and walked forward to shake the nearest flyer’s hand.

  The young man was older, around seventeen, and stood a foot taller. He looked at Jake with hard, cold eyes and as he glanced down at the outstretched hand, an expression of disdain came across his face. A scar from the corner of his right eyebrow dragged down the eyelid and the disfiguring mark continued in a slight jagged line to the middle of his cheek. He had grown a short beard that lined his face, following the curves of his cheekbone from ear to ear.

  “This is my brother, Cyrus,” Yasmin said to Jake with a slight nod.

  Jake dropped his hand and took in a short breath. He glanced over at Seiya who gave him a wide-eyed stare communicating their shared feeling, Wow that dude is intense!

  Yasmin walked around the group and stood next to each rider indicating their names. “This is Nader, Hati, Kamran, Armin, and Hazhar.” Jake and Seiya nodded to each one in turn and Jake wondered if he would ever remember their names. They were so strange and different from any that he was used to.

  The youngest rider was around Jake’s age and was heavier set, with bushy eyebrows and short black hair that spiked up at the top. He was the only one to address Jake and said with a smile, “Hello, nice to meet you.”

  “Sorry,” Jake said, “What was your name again?” Jake and Seiya instinctively gravitated over to the only one in the group that seemed remotely friendly.

  “I’m Hazhar,” and in a lower tone of voice he said, “Don’t worry about the others. They’ll get used to you. They just hate you because you can fly Tangura.”

  “They hate me? Oh, that’s comforting to know,” Jake said.

  “Plus, it explains a lot,” Seiya pointed out. Jake and Seiya were grouped together around Hazhar, while everyone else began talking.

  “Yes,” Hazhar said with a smile, “You are the flyer of Tangura, the carpet of legend. No one else here could make it fly. To us, it was just like a regular floor rug, except, of course, for the beauty that sets it apart from the other carpets. Do you have it with you?”

  “Yeah,” Jake said as he pulled the miniature carpet out of his pocket. “You call it Tangu— something?”

  The name was vaguely familiar to Jake.

  “Tangura,” Hazhar said, his eyes were fixated on the carpet. “We began to wonder if anyone could fly it.”

  Hazhar took it from Jake and began to turn it over. Then in a whisper he continued his narration, “Cyrus tried and tried to get it to fly, and he could never move it. I can’t believe you can shrink it and everything.”

  “Yes,” Jake said. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell Hazhar about the carpet. Now that he knew that everyone disliked him, he didn’t feel much like sharing.

  Farid caught the group’s attention and motioned for everyone to sit down.

  “I am so thankful that you have accepted this mission, my sons, though we do it for someone who has caused us a fair bit of trouble.”

  Jake assumed Farid was talking about Mark and wondered how deeply involved his uncle was in this world.

  “We do it for revenge!” One of the flyers called out. He had short black curls and though he looked about the age of Cyrus, he was Jake’s height; this particular rider was destined to be a short man.

  “Ah yes, Nader. I know that you all have retribution that you wish to give Zharka, but this is not the time. Our purpose is to get Jake’s uncle, and we have a man on the inside of Zharka’s circle to help us do that. We should be able to get in and out quickly with Graham’s assistance and, if all goes well, you won’t even play a role in tonight’s events.”

  Nader then began to speak in a foreign language and pointed at Jake. All of the riders, except Hazhar and Yasmin began to laugh. Jake turned red. Though the speech was different, the gestures were the same. Jake had been bullied enough to know when he was the butt of a joke.

  “Nader,” Farid said sharply, “you know that the rule on the island is to speak in English so that everyone can understand.”

  “Are you sure he wants to understand?” Nader asked in a threatening tone.

  “Enough!”

  “Farid,” Mr. Lewis changed the topic, “Jake brought Seiya along to help as a cloaking agent. I think it’s a great idea and you should reconsider taking some of the other talents. I’m sure that some of the Indian firewalkers would be not only willing, but very helpful to the assignment.”

  “No,” Farid said firmly. “I won’t endanger any more youth than I have to. I don’t even want to take Jake along, except that Zharka probably wants to see him fly to know that it is a legitimate trade.”

  “Trade?” Jake cut in. “You don’t mean that we’re going to leave it with her.”

  “Why not?” Farid shot at him. “It will just fly back to you in the end.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jake said.

  “So, Seiya, I’m sorry that you made the trip here for nothing, but it will not do to have you along.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” Seiya reassured Farid with a smile, “I’ll just hang out ‘till you get back.”

  “Farid,” Mr. Lewis broke in again, “I must insist that you take some of the others with you.”

  “Rex, this is my mission. You agreed to that. I must be allowed to do it my way.” Farid said calmly.

  Seiya and Jake mouthed the word Rex to each other. Jake was still overwhelmed that his teacher had a first name, a life outside of the classroom, and a super cool island.

  “What is the reason for this place if not to train for experiences just like this one? Why did we create it but to fight against her?”

  “They’re not ready,” Farid said, with an edge of anger to his voice. “How can I take them into a potential war zone when they can’t work together here?”

  “I am worried about their safety, too, but perhaps this is just what they need to bring them together – a chance to work under pressure?” Rex’s constructive statement was overshadowed by a tone that signaled his near resignation.

  “This is my fault. It is mine to undo,” Farid continued, sensing victory. “These boys have been trained and they know how to work as a team.”

  Rex Lewis held his hands up in
the air, giving the win to Farid.

  “Meet me at the tent,” Farid said to the flyers and with a nod, all but Hazhar left.

  Yasmin walked up to the leader. “I want to come,” she said in a strong voice.

  “No,” Farid said quickly.

  “I am one of the best riders here, you know that. Please.”

  “I can’t allow you to go. This is a very dangerous situation and it is not your place,” Farid was noticeably aggravated.

  “You just said that the others might not even be involved. Is it dangerous, or do you just not want me to come?”

  “Enough!” Farid had an edge of finality to his voice.

  Yasmin’s face clouded with frustration as she ran out of the courtyard.

  “Are you ready, young Jake?”

  “I think so.” Jake said with an inhaling breath. He felt strapped into a roller coaster, the only way out was through.

  “Hazhar is going to work on our team.” Farid indicated the flyer.

  “Good luck, Jake. Be careful,” said Mr. Lewis.

  “Yeah dude,” Seiya said and then he grabbed Jake’s hand in a series of odd handshakes.

  Jake smiled.

  “Wow,” Seiya continued. “You’re going with a bunch of guys that hate you, to give up your carpet for your kidnapped uncle who is being held by a psycho woman. This is some seriously crazy stuff! Wish I were going with you.”

  “No you don’t,” Jake said realistically.

  “Well, sure, I mean hanging out on the Island of Paradise with Yasmin sounds great, but you’re living it, man! You’re going into a real situation – life and death! Wow!”

  “That’s not really helpful.”

  Seiya smiled, “Sorry, dude. I’ll be thinking good thoughts for you.”

  “Thanks,” Jake said and forced a slight smile. He wanted Seiya to know that he didn’t really blame him for not going. He wouldn’t go if he didn’t have to.

  “Don’t go too crazy in paradise,” Jake said back to his friend.

  “Jake, really, watch out for yourself. Come back safely. ”

  “See ya on the other side!” Jake said with mock cheer.

  “Ok,” said Farid, “let’s go.”

  Jake gave a final look and wave toward Seiya, and then followed Farid and Hazhar out of the courtyard.

  “We sent another flyer, Arshan, out earlier to set up a tent near Zharka’s Palace so that we would have a place to transport to,” Farid explained to Jake as they walked away from the main buildings. “You do have the carpet, yes?”

  Jake nodded and produced the pocketed item. Wondering whether or not he could get his uncle and keep the carpet was torturous. Then there was whether or not he should tell Farid about leaving a piece with Hillary? Would that decision negate the whole mission? He decided to ask in an indirect way.

  “So, do you think that there is any way that we could not leave the carpet with Zharka?”

  “The plan is to leave with your uncle, the carpet, and all of us intact,” Farid said absentmindedly. Jake’s heart felt lighter.

  “But,” Farid continued, “should we need to bargain, we have the added safety of the carpet’s ability to return.”

  Jake felt weighed down again.

  “What if –” Jake paused to think of the right way to ask.

  Farid turned to look at Jake.

  “What if the carpet is unable to return? Suppose she finds a way to lock it up. What will we do?”

  Farid rubbed his chin, fingers running through his goatee.

  “It’s possible,” he said thoughtfully. “Well, we’ll do our best to leave with the carpet. She won’t have any success with it anyway. It seems you are the only one that can fly it. Maybe we can persuade her of that fact. Though I’m not sure what else we can use to barter for your uncle.”

  “Well, I can ask the carpet to let someone else fly on it.” Jake wished he had refrained from the comment the minute it came out of his mouth. He doubted whether or not he could get the carpet to do anything more than transport in the present state.

  Farid shot Jake a stunned look.

  “We’ll keep that quiet for now, as well as the fact that it can return to you,” Farid said. The trio had come to a clearing where a simple, beige, twelve-man tent had been set up.

  Jake looked up and was mesmerized at a sight perfectly illuminated by the light of the full moon. The flyers were doing tricks in the air above, like a brigade of circus performers at the top of the high wire.

  Higher than any of the other flyers, Cyrus was standing at the edge of his carpet and did a perfect nose dive off it. Then, like an Olympic diver, he did four somersaults through the air and landed tandem on the back of Nader’s carpet. Jake wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or annoyed.

  Seventy-percent impressed with the trick, twenty-percent annoyed because Cyrus’ personality sucks, and ten-percent hungry, Jake decided.

  The rest of the riders were showing off as well. Two of them were playing a bizarre game of tag, running and leaping in circles onto each other’s carpets in mid-air. Another was walking on the thin edge like a tight-rope walker and the final rider was flying loop-de-loops in circles, his feet magically sticking to the carpet, even when upside down.

  Farid gave a sharp whistle. The riders came down to the ground in a rush and stood in a line in front of him. Farid looked annoyed.

  “I don’t have time to babysit a bunch of infants,” he curtly stated. “I chose this group and only this group from the island because I felt that you were the most capable.” Then Farid threw his hand in the air and muttered something under his breath.

  Cursing in any language looks the same, I guess. Jake thought.

  Everyone quickly entered the camping tent and Farid placed his carpet in the threshold and gave the destination. Then, like ducks in a row, they walked over the open portal and out of the tent on the other side. The scenery had changed from the paradise of the island to a harsh, barren wilderness with the brilliant stars and the full moon illuminating everything in this place in a way that his city in California couldn’t touch.

  Awesome! Jake thought. Transporting’s never gonna get old.

  They were standing in front of a sand dune. Farid began to whisper directions as they gathered around in a circle.

  “Jake, Hazhar, and I will go in first. Be on the lookout. If Graham Kent hasn’t gotten us out of there in half an hour, start the distraction.”

  “What’s the distraction?” Jake muttered to Hazhar.

  With a wicked smile, the boy replied, “The scorpion beds are toast!”

  “Thirty minutes —” Farid repeated sharply. Then he hopped on his carpet and motioned for Jake and Hazhar to follow.

  Wow, he’s quick for a guy his age… I think. How old is this man anyway? Jake thought, realizing how little he really knew about Farid.

  Jake jumped onto his carpet and followed Hazhar.

  “Don’t let Zharka see you cry!” Nader yelled after Jake. Jake ignored the comment, mostly because he wasn’t sure exactly what the curly-haired shorty meant by it.

  They flew around the smallish sand dune that was in front of the tent and then soared up to a bird’s height. The flyers were above a valley with very little in it but sand, rock, and a creek bed that had dried up a long time ago. Jake decided to name it the Sand Bowl and wondered how much further they would be traveling.

  There was a lone sign in the old creek bed. Jake pointed down to it. Hazhar came up close to Jake and called out, “In Arabic it says something like, ‘Do Not Enter, Deadly Force Authorized’.”

  Jake nodded, realizing again how dangerous this mission was going to be.

  Just past the valley there was a massive structure ahead of them. Jake squinted to see it better.

  “What is that?”

  Hazhar turned and looked at Jake and mouthed, “Zharka’s Palace.”

  2
3. Zharka’s Palace

  Graham Kent paced back and forth inside the gate of Zharka’s Ziggurat. Any minute now, Farid would arrive and the prison break would begin. The squat man stopped, pulled out a cotton handkerchief and mopped the sweat from his neck and face. He still wasn’t completely sure about his decision, and wondered if the sweat was more from nerves than anything else. He checked behind him to make sure that he was alone in the courtyard. All was still and quiet, except for a few shadows from clouds partially blocking the moonlight.

  “What’s that?” Graham said aloud, eyeing a large stone statue that had been knocked over.

  “Daft kids,” he muttered and with a wave of his hand, the statue stood upright and flew up onto a balcony that overlooked the grand courtyard. He touched the Ân Dhúin that hung around his neck, a blue-green polished stone taken from the Preseli mountains in Wales. He tugged at the leather string that held the talisman, trying to make it straight.

  A call of a coyote sounded from outside the great stone wall. Steeling himself for the task ahead, he opened the door. Farid stood there, with two young boys. The familiar one was Hazhar. They had met previously when Graham visited the Island. The other was a plump, American boy of average height, with sandy brown hair and large ears that slightly stuck out.

  This must be the rider of Tangura, and at the thought, Graham stifled a laugh.

  “Farid, this couldn’t really be the one,” Graham stated in a thick, proper British accent.

  Farid clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder and pushed him forward into the entrance.

  “Yes, can you believe it?” Farid laughed and then the two men embraced.

  “Boys,” Farid said as they all walked into the courtyard, “this is Graham Kent. He is the architect and builder of this magnificent structure, and a dear friend.”

  “You built this?” Jake asked. He was in awe as he looked around.

  “Yes,” Graham said, and then coughed, “uh, let’s keep to the shadows. We really don’t want to be seen right now.”

  They walked in silence until they came to a door that opened into the wall. There was a sharp turn and the men began to head down a set of stairs into a drafty passageway. Graham looked back and began to talk to the boys.

  “We are passing under the courtyard now, to the dungeons under the Ziggurat.”

  Looking up, Jake was taken aback when he noticed that the light in the windowless hallway was not coming from torches, as he had expected, but from golden feathers in each of the wall sconces. Each feather sent out a glow that lit up the area.

  “What kind of feathers are those?” Jake asked Farid.

  “Ah, yes,” Farid said as he looked up, “You’d think that in the age of technology, she would employ the use of electricity.”

  “Not when she can provide it herself,” Graham said.

  “I’m not sure if we’ve mentioned it Jake, but Zharka’s ancestral talent is the ability to transform herself into a firebird.”

  “You mean a phoenix?” Jake asked.

  “No,” Farid said as he pulled a feather out of its stand and handed it to Jake. “A phoenix is another bird of legend, with different magical abilities. A firebird, or zhar pteetsa is a bird from Russian mythology.”

  Jake played with the delicate feather, looking at the way sections of a fire’s color were woven throughout the single quill.

  Farid continued, “Zharka has the ability to create fire out of the elements in the atmosphere when in her bird form, and as you can see, each of her feathers casts off enough light to light a room.”

  “Wow,” said Jake who passed the feather to Hazhar to take a look. “Does she have a lot of feathers?”

  “With each transformation, she sheds a set of feathers which she gathers and uses for various things,” Farid said,

  “So, she could light up a whole town?” Jake asked curiously.

  “She can,” Farid paused and then said in a venomous tone, “in more ways than one.”

  Jake put his hand against the jagged stone wall. It was cool compared to the feather.

  “Oh, she has changed to electricity through most of the palace now,” Graham said.

  “Really?” Farid questioned.

  “Yes, after you left, she started to become quite modern,” Graham continued through the familiar passageway. “Well, early twentieth-century modern, anyway.”

  “That’s surprising,” Farid pressed.

  “Well, yes, she gets more recruits when this place is a step up from home and not so much a prison.”

  Farid snorted.

  After a while, the tunnel finally let out into a large room that looked like a medieval dungeon. The center of the room housed a bunch of odd wooden contraptions and various weapons. Around the outside walls were jail cells; only one had an occupant. A man sat cross-legged with his back to the center of the room. His brown hair was shaggy and unwashed. Jake turned to Graham who motioned toward the jail cell.

  “Mark?” His voice cracked when he said it.

  The man in the cell turned his head, unwilling to believe what he had just heard.

  “Are you ok?” Jake managed to say without betraying the lump in his throat.

  Mark got to his feet and slowly turned around, the faint light shone on his face revealing yellowing bruises under his left eye and cheekbone. Graham walked forward with a key.

  “Step back,” he commanded. The prisoner walked to the back wall.

  The minute the heavy iron bars were open, Jake ran into the cell and threw his arms around his bearded Uncle. It wasn’t typical for the two of them, but this time, Jake felt Mark’s strong arms hugging him back.

  “What are you doing here?” Mark finally said.

  Jake smiled, “We’re gonna get you out.”

  He motioned to the others who were standing nearby. Mark looked over at Farid and Hazhar.

  “Might have known it’d be you,” Mark sneered at Farid.

  “You can thank me later,” Farid said back graciously.

  “Thank you?” Mark said sarcastically, “Why did you bring my nephew here? Still using kids to do your work?” He cracked his knuckles menacingly.

  “Move into the cell with them,” a cold voice said. Jake spun around but saw only Graham.

  “What?” Farid said as he searched his friend’s face.

  “You heard me, get into the cell,” Graham said pointing to a heavy granite stone suspended in mid-air above Farid’s head.

  “You can’t be serious,” Farid snorted.

  “Deadly serious,” Graham shot back and with a wave of his hand he dropped the slab, catching it again inches above Farid who jerked out of the way. Jake noticed his uncle wince at the falling rock.

  “Now, if you will join the Commander please, there’s a good lad.”

  Farid and Hazhar walked into the cell, and Graham used the stone to slam the iron door shut just before he locked everyone in the prison cell.

  “Graham,” Farid said, clearly in shock, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry, friend,” Graham said with heavy emotion in his voice, “I’m not a strong man.”

  “No, don’t do this,” Farid walked toward the cell door and held his hand out through the bars, grabbing at Graham’s shirt.

  “Farid,” Graham said, wiggling away from his grip, “you have no idea what she’s promised me.”

  “You know what she’s capable of, please,” Farid put his palms together in an imploring gesture.

  “She needs me, Farid. She’s lost without me,” Graham said, and in a daze, he turned to leave them.

  “She’s using you,” Farid said bitterly, “she’ll destroy everything that means anything to you.”

  Graham froze for a moment and then he shook his head.

  “No, she loves me,” he said, and then turned and gave Farid a wicked smile, “besides that, I’m from London.”

  Farid hit the bars on the door so violently that Jake was shocked t
hat he didn’t recoil in pain. Graham turned again to leave, and Farid called after him.

  “She may not be ready to burn down first-world cities yet, but she will soon and you’ll be the one to blame!” Then Farid crumpled on the ground.

  “Well, great break out,” Mark said and began to clap, “Farid really, excellent strategy.”

  Farid looked up at Mark and scoffed back, “and your men have done better? How many months have you been trapped down here, Bowers? I went by your camp – it’s gone. Your men, the special forces, and your government left you here to rot!”

  Jake had been an engrossed spectator, simply watching the events unfold, but at that moment he realized that a fight was about to break out. He had seen the windup in junior high enough to know when to run for cover. Farid and Mark hated each other, and there was no school monitor nearby to break this one up.

  “I’m sorry, but how do you two know each other?” Jake asked, determining that if he kept them talking, maybe he could steer the anger in another direction.

  Farid looked over at Jake, “Your uncle has been following me for five years, like I’m some common criminal.”

  Jake looked at Mark, “I thought that you were serving in Kazhiristan.”

  “Yeah,” Mark said, rubbing his scruff, “about that, there’s not a lot I can tell you, it’s classified U.S. Military stuff.”

  “Ok,” Jake said, eyes narrowing, “but, you lied to us.”

  “Hey, Bud – come on,” Mark began to say, “I never really lied; I was serving in the military.”

  “You told us that you were deployed. I’ve sent care packages to you and told everyone proudly…”

  “Jake, they were little white lies, just to protect you and the family.”

  “But you’ve been following Farid? Have you been in California?” Jake continued to question.

  “Why are you—” Mark said, and then he pointed at Farid. “He’s the one you should be interrogating, not me. He’s the bad guy. Did you know that he used to run this place?”

  Jake whirled around in the cell and stared at Farid, “What?”

  Farid waved a tired hand, “Yes, yes. But that was a lifetime ago.”

  “Don’t believe him,” Mark said, “he’s still working with her.”

  Farid shook his head.

  “Who’re you kidding? We’ve seen your little flying car at every site that she hits. How can you explain that?”

  “Easy,” Farid said with a new fire in his eyes. “I go to help those that are left after her attacks. I go to find recruits to our cause and to help the wounded.”

  “Oh,” Mark smugly said, “and what is your cause?”

  “To try to stop her,” Farid said simply.

  “So, why don’t you just attack her here?” Mark questioned.

  “She’s too powerful at the palace. I don’t have enough recruits, and those I do,” Farid looked pointedly at Hazhar, “fight and bicker amongst themselves to the point that we can’t get anything done. Why don’t you take her down?”

  Mark shot Farid a dirty look.

  “What?” Jake and Hazhar asked together.

  “We were not ‘technically’ authorized to do so, yet,” Mark said through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, and what does that mean?” Farid pushed.

  “We are a classified organization, but even we have to take orders,” Mark said heavily.

  “Because the places she hits aren’t on the U.S. radar yet,” Farid filled in, “they’re not big enough targets to tempt America’s involvement.”

  “I was authorized to do some damage before I was taken …” Mark’s sentence broke off and they sat silently for several minutes.

  An eerie scuttling sound filled the prison, like metal fingers drumming on a desk, coming down the cold stone hallway toward the cell. Mark’s jaw tensed at the noise.

  “Whoa!” Hazhar said as the creator of the sound came into view.

  A giant scorpion walked into the room. It was held on a leash by Tarezh, the flyer who had delivered Zharka’s message at the Fischer’s home. The arachnid was as tall as his thigh and as they came toward the cell, it began to thrash its pincers and tail.

  “Zharka would like to see you, Jake,” Tarezh said with a sneer and unlocked the jail cell while the scorpion stood guard.

  “Farid! It’s been a long time, and Hazhar, how fortuitous!”

  Hazhar nodded, looking very uncomfortable.

  “Oh, my friend,” Tarezh said, “no kind greeting for me? Well, I guess we’ll have time to catch up later and I’ll give you the welcome back gift that you deserve.”

  Hazhar backed up against the wall.

  “Tarezh,” Farid said coldly, “where did you get your little pet?”

  Tarezh smiled again looking entirely too happy.

  “Ah, Farid, I am so glad that you have been able to see my work. I’m a bit of a scorpion tamer too,” Tarezh let the leash go slack a little allowing the scorpion to walk into the cell.

  Mark and Jake instinctively backed up toward Hazhar.

  “They’re not as technologically advanced as your Scorpionics are,” Tarezh continued, “but they do what I need them to do. The poison from this stinger is lethal to humans.”

  Farid, unruffled, moved forward to inspect the arachnid, “What do you use for your Ân Dhúin?”

  “As if I’d tell you!” Tarezh scoffed.

  Farid walked over to the other side of the scorpion and it snapped one of its pincers menacingly at him.

  “Did you make it grow to this size?” Farid was completely composed like he was inspecting an antique auto at a car show.

  “Yes,” Tarezh was eyeing Farid now, somewhat shaken that Farid was reacting so calmly.

  “What ancestral line did this talent come from?” Farid reached out to touch the scorpion.

  “No,” Tarezh said, and pulled at his pet. “Enough, Farid. Jake, come with me.”

  “He’s not going anywhere with you,” Mark said.

  “You’ll be joining him soon enough, Bowers,” Tarezh said and then clicked his tongue twice. The scorpion lunged at Mark, who backed down and nodded at Jake to go.

  Farid turned to Jake and whispered, “It’s going to be fine, Jake. We’ll get out of this. Just don’t agree to anything that Zharka asks you to do.”

  Jake nodded and turned to his uncle. “It’s gonna be fine, Mark. Farid has a plan.”

  Mark scoffed.

  Jake looked at Hazhar who waved goodbye solemnly, and then he walked out of the cell and followed Tarezh away from the dungeon.

  24. The Most Beautiful Woman

  Tarezh led Jake in complete silence into the upper parts of the palace. Well, silence except for the eerie scuttle-scuttle of the over grown scorpion walking right next to them. Jake tried to take up as little space as possible so that the arachnid wouldn’t need to touch him for any reason. They came to a colossal arched entrance that led into a massive marble columned room. At the head of the large room was a single gold throne, set on a dais. A woman sat there motionless, deep in thought. As they walked in, she stood.

  They came toward the throne and as Jake saw the woman more clearly his breath caught in his chest.

  “She’s beautiful, yes?” Tarezh said to Jake.

  Jake didn’t answer. He had never seen a woman who looked like that. She was more than beautiful; she was the most perfect thing he had ever seen in his life.

  “Thank you for bringing him, Tarezh,” Zharka said as they drew closer. She held out her hand and he kissed it. Jake wanted to kiss her hand too, but decided against such an obvious show of affection.

  “Will you go and take care of the other matters that we discussed?”

  Tarezh bowed and he and his disturbing giant scorpion left.

  “Now,” Zharka said with a slight Russian accent, “Jacob Bowers, let me take a look at you.”

  He hated it when people called him Jacob, but he decided to let it
go. She began to walk in a circle around Jake. This was what a spectator would do at a car show, only in this case, Jake felt like a tattered mini-van rather than a mustang. Jake wanted to say something to relieve the awkwardness that he felt, but no words came.

  “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, my son,” Zharka said, “a very long time.”

  My son? Jake wondered at the term. Why had she called him that?

  “Why’s that?” Jake asked.

  She finished her circle and stood back in front of him. She smelled exotic, like a heavenly flower straight out of the garden of paradise, unlike Hillary whose aroma reminded him of fabric softener.

  “I need a son and heir. The carpet has chosen you, and therefore, I have chosen you,” she said, her eyes, which were a mix of green and blue sprinkled with golden glitter, bored into his.

  “Why do you need a son and heir?” Jake asked.

  “I have a task that I need someone to perform, and there is no one else that I can trust. Tolko semya … only for family … do you understand this?”

  Don’t agree to anything that Zharka asks you to do, Farid’s parting words penetrated Jake’s brain.

  “I’m sorry, I need to talk to my lawyer before I can do anything,” Jake said.

  Zharka pulled back and looked at Jake quizzically. Then she smiled, “oh, you’re being funny.”

  Jake gave a half smile.

  “Tell me, do you like the palace?”

  “Well, all I’ve seen is the dungeon, so no, not really,” Jake was feeling frustrated. “Is this how you treat family? You kidnapped my uncle and locked him away. Then, your man, Graham, threw us in the cell, and threatened us with stoning and scorpion stings.”

  “Oh, Jacob, Jacob,” she shook her head and grabbed his forearm, “I didn’t know that Mark Bowers was your uncle. You see, he and his gang were trespassing on my property. You do understand that it was well within my rights to capture a person who is a threat to my well-being.”

  Jake nodded, in a daze. He was confused by his emotions. Zharka was the bad guy, but there was something about her that intrigued him.

  “Look at this palace,” she gestured at the golden throne. “It can all be yours. The heir of the Zhar Pteetsa … you will have untold wealth and power. This is only the beginning of my treasure.”

  Jake looked around and thought about what he could do with money. Buy an exotic car and rebuild it with Mark. Buy out a toy store for Millie, new furniture for the house, a GamePro of his own, give mom that vacation to Hawaii. Mom. The thought of her lingered in his mind.

  “No, thanks, I already have a Mom,” Jake said simply.

  “Yes,” Zharka said, “but does she understand you like I do? You are the rider of the carpet of legend. Does she understand this world, and your position in it, like I do?”

  “Oh, well I … ” Jake looked down at the floor.

  “You haven’t told her yet, have you? Why not, Jacob?” Zharka lifted his head up to look him in the eyes. “She wouldn’t understand, would she?”

  Jake turned his head away from her.

  “She would try to take all of this away from you.”

  “No,” Jake tried to say it with strength, but the sound echoed, revealing its core of weakness.

  “She will, Jake, that’s what parents do, they take away your freedom. But I’m not that kind of parent. My palace is a refuge, a place of no restrictions for my flyers and I will teach you how to be like them. I will teach you how to fly and you will be greater even than those that flew before you.”

  It was all so confusing.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked cautiously.

  “Good decision, I could tell that you were a smart young man!” She walked over to the throne. Next to it was a table that held a large silver goblet and tattered leather bound book.

  “What’s that glass for?” Jake questioned.

  “Let’s just say that it’s my Ân Dhúin,” Zharka picked up the glass, “That’s a close enough explanation. Come here, and let me show it to you.”

  Jake walked over and looked at the goblet. A picture of a tree, just like the one that was in the center of the carpet was etched into the front. The tree was surrounded by an unusual looking dragon hovering over it and a bird that resembled a peacock curled under it.

  Jake tried to hide his surprise, and said, “That’s really beautiful.”

  “Yes,” Zharka said as she traced the etchings with her long fingers, “I think it’s almost as ancient as the carpet.”

  There was a clear liquid in the goblet. Zharka drank some of it and then showed it to Jake. Magically, the cup refilled itself.

  “Wow, that’s pretty cool.”

  Zharka looked over at Jake and cocked her head, “touch the glass.”

  “Okay,” he said and reached out to take it from her.

  “Ouch!” Jake instinctively pulled his fingers back. It felt like he had touched the red hot plate on top of a stove. He stuck his bright pink fingers in his mouth to cool them off.

  Zharka tossed her head back and laughed. “You see, young Jacob, no one can take it from me.”

  “You could have just told me,” Jake stated.

  She set the goblet back on the table. “Go on,” she said, “try to take it.”

  He shook his head.

  “A fast learner!” She said and then asked him, “How would you take it from this table?”

  “I wouldn’t,” Jake said.

  Zharka looked at him with pleading eyes, “Come on, Jacob, there is one more thing I want to show you, another protection.”

  “Why are you showing me anything?”

  “Oh, Jacob, I like you. I really do. Now come on, take it.”

  Jake kicked the table to see if the cup would knock off. The table rattled, but the goblet didn’t budge.

  “Isn’t that miraculous?” Zharka said, “Farid set it up for me. He is really such a technological genius.” Then her eyes grew cold. “What a waste.”

  Zharka picked up the book and turned the pages. “I will show you all of the wonders of this palace.”

  “No thanks,” Jake said. He wondered how many other body parts would get burnt if Zharka took him on the wonderland palace tour.

  Zharka was lost in the book for a moment and then looked at Jake with a triumphant smile. “Here it is.”

  “What is?” Jake said cautiously.

  “It’s easy, Jacob. I need you to stand on Tangura and recite these words,” she said holding out the book to him.

  “What does it do?”

  “Just know that I need it done and that it will bring your inheritance to new heights,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “I don’t know, I kind of promised Farid that I wouldn’t do anything until I talked to him.”

  “Nonsense,” Zharka continued, “you’re almost a man now. You can make your own decisions. You will be my heir and this act will solidify your loyalty to me.”

  “How do I know that reading that won’t make my lips fall off?”

  Zharka shot him an amused look. “Nothing will happen to you if you read this.”

  Something in the back of his mind kept bugging him. Something was wrong. He put his hand in his pocket, wishing that he could talk to the carpet. He concentrated on a faint feeling that came as he touched the piece he could almost hear the carpet saying no.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t,” Jake stated. “I have a family that I love, and as amazing as your offer is, I just want to get home and be with them.”

  “Such a pity,” Zharka said. “You chose to do it the hard way, I’m sure Farid will be so proud of you. No, my little Jacob, nothing will happen to you when you read this, but something may happen to your friends if you don’t.”

  Oh, there it is, Jake thought.

  “I thought that you said I had freedom.”

  “As my heir, you have freedom, yes. As my enemy,
you have none. Come,” Zharka said and grabbed his arm, linking hers through his as if he were about to escort her into a dance. “Let’s take a walk and look at your friends, shall we?”

  They walked over to the balcony that opened out from the great marble hall and looked into the courtyard below. Mark, Farid, and Hazhar were there, surrounded by four of Tarezh’s giant scorpions. A half-dozen of Zharka’s flyers, clad in cream tunic shirts like Tarezh, were standing guard, hovering on their carpets a few feet off of the ground. Jake looked out past the Ziggurat’s main protective wall, and noticed faint figures and blazes of fire-light in the distance.

  The flyers, he panicked at the thought.

  “Yes, they’ve burned Farid’s scorpion beds, but no matter, the Scorpionics never did exactly what I wanted them to do anyway. Tarezh’s are much better. They inspire more fear, don’t you think so, Jacob?”

  She clapped her hands and a woman who was completely veiled in white coverings came onto the balcony carrying a set of binoculars. Jake looked at the woman, her hands and eyes were all that he could see of her. She gave him a troubled, almost sorrowful look.

  Zharka spoke to her in a foreign language and she answered back. Then the woman walked to the entrance way and stood there watching them.

  “Please, I must insist that you, as my guest, watch the entertainment,” Zharka said as she handed Jake the binoculars.

  If I’m your guest, then this is the hotel from Hades, Jake thought, but accepted the binoculars to see what was going on.

  Though it was still dark, the fires on the scorpion beds and the bright moon illuminated the flyers in a dog fight. There were carpets swooping in and out of each other. Jake could make out Cyrus, Farid’s flyer with the massive scar, trying to fight off a hulking warrior who had jumped on the back of his carpet.

  “Do you see my riders, Jacob? And my warriors?”

  Jake guessed that the warriors were the fierce, gigantic looking ones.

  “Romanians,” Zharka said with pride, though it was lost on Jake who didn’t understand what she was talking about. “You don’t seem impressed.”

  Jake shrugged hoping it would look like he was saying, I’ve seen better.

  “Transylvania, Vlad the Impaler, or Vlad Dracul as he is also known.”

  “Dracula?” he looked horror-struck.

  “No, unfortunately. However, the Vampire legend came from the old stories of these night warriors. My Romanian soldiers become almost indestructible at night, kind of like your country’s Incredible Hulk.”

  Jake looked through the binoculars at the night warrior that Cyrus was fighting. The Romanian had his arm around Cyrus’ neck and the flyer was struggling to get free. Cyrus pulled the carpet into an arch that began to turn them upside down. The night warrior’s feet couldn’t hold onto the carpet and he slipped and dangled upside-down, trying to grab onto Cyrus’ torso. Cyrus wiggled free and the hulking Romanian fell. A flyer, dressed in a cream tunic, pulled up and caught the freefalling brute on his carpet. With a vicious yell, the two went after Cyrus again.

  “Well done, Farid, your flyers are impressive,” Zharka called down to the courtyard.

  Farid tensed up.

  “Yes, I must give you credit, you have always been an excellent trainer.”

  “Now, Jacob keep your eyes on the night warrior dressed in red. Gheorgy is one of the best fighters.”

  Jake couldn’t take his eyes off of the battle, Gheorgy was everywhere. Flashes of red, flew from carpet to carpet as the night warrior jumped from his flyer onto one of Farid’s. He’d smash into one and then jump on the next carpet with no fear of falling.

  “Vlad the Impaler was a great warrior who defended the Romans from the Ottoman Empire. He was famous for night raids where he and his men would capture and impale tens of thousands of Turkish troops. Vlad and his fighters weren’t Vampires, they transformed into these magnificent warriors after sunset.”

  Jake wasn’t really interested in the history lesson, all he cared about was whether or not Farid’s flyers were safe. He watched as Gheorgy punched one of the flyers in the face so hard that it sent him into the air. The Romanian jumped to another carpet as his victim fell unconsciously toward the ground.

  Jake gasped.

  “Farid, please join us. How inhospitable of me, you will want to see this,” Zharka called down.

  One of the guards hoisted Farid onto his carpet and flew him up to the balcony. His arms were bound together with a thick rope. Jake and Farid locked eyes for a moment, and a look of frustration passed between them.

  Jake put up his binoculars and continued to watch the massacre. Several of Farid’s flyers were unconscious now, being dragged back to the palace. Gheorgy was going after the last two, Cyrus and Nader. He quickly jumped from his flyer’s carpet and slammed into Nader. The boy shot off of the carpet and began to free fall but Cyrus caught him.

  Gheorgy made a wild jump and grabbed onto the edge of Cyrus’ carpet. Then he grabbed Nader’s leg. Cyrus flew the carpet in manic patterns trying to get the brute to fall, but Gheorgy threw Nader off of the carpet. He flew backward, arms circling wildly.

  One of Zharka’s riders caught Nader and a night warrior held him in a choke hold. The three of them came toward the palace courtyard and only Cyrus was left.

  Gheorgy pulled himself onto Cyrus’ carpet. Cyrus tried to punch the warrior in the gut, but the motion was like a tired baby trying to hit his Dad. Gheorgy easily overpowered Cyrus by grabbing the punch and twisting his arm around back. The hulking Romanian held Cyrus around the neck with his other arm and the two began to come toward them. Jake brought down the binoculars.

  Farid was counting heads. All of his flyers were banged up, but they were alive and in the courtyard surrounded by giant scorpions, colossal Romanian night warriors, and an assortment of Zharka’s cream-clad flyers. Jake noticed that Arshan, the flyer that hadn’t been on the Island but had gone ahead to set up the tent, was lying on the ground. Blood trickled down his temple, and his arm was jutted out at an awkward angle. He looked dead, but his breathing was shallow.

  Jake wanted to do something, but he didn’t know what, or how. He stuck his hand in his pocket and miserably touched the carpet wishing that he had done what it had suggested and come with Seiya. At least then, the others wouldn’t be hurt because of him.

  25. Doorway to the Bestiary

  Jake turned and faced Zharka, “What do you want?”

  “Ah, young Jacob, now you understand,” she said coolly, “the way to a woman’s heart is to do whatever it is that she wants.”

  Jake looked down at Mark, who was scowling at Farid. He had hoped to get a look of reassurance, or maybe even a look of I-have-a-plan-kiddo from his uncle, but no, just more of I-hate-Farid was etched onto the Army Ranger’s face.

  “I want Farid to learn that lesson. Have you learned it yet, my love?” She walked over to him and stroked his goatee, “I love the new look.”

  Farid grimaced and pulled his chin away from her hand. She gave a cold laugh.

  “Did you know, young Jacob, that Farid was the King of the Castle before he abandoned me and our dreams?”

  “Yeah,” Jake said, “I kind of figured that out.”

  He was still wracking his brain for a plan, anything that would get them all out safely. He still had his carpet. Could he fly for help? Somehow, he knew that if he were crazy enough to try an escape, Gheorgy would just chase him down, sling him over his shoulder like a rag doll, and bring him straight back. He wondered if he could wait it out until morning, when the Romanian warriors would turn back into their not-so-Incredible-Hulk forms. It couldn’t be long now.

  “Your dreams, Zharka. Mine were much different,” Jake heard Farid say. He tried to concentrate on listening while looking around for another way out. Then, Jake spotted it. Arshan suddenly began to morph, chameleon-like, into the courtyard below. If his eyes were not somehow creating a mira
ge of hope, he could just make out a figure leaning over the wounded flyer.

  “You burned down my village… men, women and children!” Farid spat, overwhelmed at having to re-live the thought.

  “And you abandoned me – so now I guess we’re even,” Zharka said, her eyes drawn into slits of fury.

  “EVEN?” Farid roared.

  Jake noticed that all of the guards were so engrossed in the conversation between their mistress and Farid that they hadn’t even noticed the disappearance of one of their prisoners. Was Seiya cloaking them, and if so, how did he get there?

  “You would have left me for her!” Zharka thundered back, “I stripped you of distractions, of things that would stop you from becoming the exceptional man that you had the power to be. But now look at you – flying around in that stupid car and working with a dreamer like Rex Lewis. The two of you can’t even get a proper army off the ground or you would have struck at me earlier. You disgust me.”

  Zharka snapped her fingers and the woman clad in white came forward. She held the leather-bound book out to Jake and looked at him intently with pale green eyes.

  “Now Jacob,” Zharka said, “read, or I will kill you.”

  Jake glanced down at the courtyard. Two were gone. There had to be a way to keep everyone distracted long enough to get them all out.

  “What do I need to do?” Jake said trying not to pay too much attention to the prison break.

  “Where is Tangura?” Zharka calmly asked.

  Jake pulled the carpet out of his pocket as slowly as he dared and then began to enlarge it. Farid shot him a quizzical look, and then looked out at the courtyard his eyes growing wide as Cyrus began to evaporate from view.

  “What are you doing, Zharka?” Farid asked.

  “Something you’d never have the guts to do!” She spat at him. “This carpet, and its rider have the power to open doors from other dimensions, something you would never have him do because you’re too weak.”

  Jake looked out at the courtyard and froze. For an instant, he saw two figures shimmer in and out of view – Hillary and Yasmin. He was now more desperate than ever to see the rescue mission’s success. Maybe he could get Zharka into another historical lesson.

  “A door to another dimension?” Jake said with mock curiosity.

  “The Bestiary,” Zharka said in her proud voice, “the place where legendary beasts and creatures are trapped.”

  “So,” Jake said, a little worried about opening a door to a lair of mythical beasts and creatures, “Why are they in this bestiary place?”

  “As humanity believed more and more in science and technology,” she scoffed at Farid, “they began to lose their ancestral talents. Suddenly, society no longer had faith in anything that couldn’t be proven by the scientific method. A priest locked the creatures, one by one, in the Bestiary to save them from the modern world.”

  “What do I get if I open this up for you?” Jake said trying to sneak a peek at the courtyard. Half of the prisoners were gone. Jake guessed that Seiya was covering them, Hillary was grabbing them and Yasmin was ferrying them out. He could make out two flyers on the horizon.

  “You and your friends get much less pain,” Zharka said impatiently and Jake could hear the pincers from the scorpions snapping.

  Jake stood on Tangura. Maybe this door to the Bestiary wouldn’t open up while the carpet was ripped. There were only two prisoners left. He took the book and glanced at Farid who was holding his breath. Farid gave a slight nod, so Jake began to read the handwritten words on the page that made no sense to him.

  Nowar delee tolatheg ma,

  Oper nashee nomara keepa,

  Dalee sengo zu Tangura,

  Jake tensed as he looked down and saw Mark disappear.

  “Go on,” Zharka snarled.

  “My lady!” a yell came from the courtyard below. Tarezh looked like he was holding nothing, but the nothing struggled in and out of visibility. Seiya broke concentration and suddenly Mark was in plain sight again.

  Tarezh pushed Mark down into the dirt, and a scorpion scuttled over positioning its tail over his throat.

  “Finish it or I finish your uncle!” Zharka seethed.

  Oblishe nawaa no Limbusha!

  Jake finished the line and he felt a pulse of energy burst through the carpet, and for a moment, everything around Jake seemed to freeze in time. Directly in front of him, the air became thick and hazy. Strange odors of earth and beasts filled his nostrils and he could hear something coming. Jake closed his eyes for a moment and in the distance, he could hear shrieking, roaring, growling, barking – the Animal Kingdom itself was in an uproar.

  Jake looked around, and everyone was frozen in place, unaware of what he was experiencing. The haze began to morph, changing color and twisting itself into four thick ropes – intertwining strands of pulsating electric-blue energy. They then shaped themselves into a large rectangle. As the doorway formed, Jake was aware that the sounds became more thunderous, like the hooves of a stampede in unison drawing closer and closer. Jake stared into the pulsing electric-blue gateway and saw a vivid world, separate from his.

  “Another dimension,” Jake breathed out. He looked around, but Zharka and Farid were still frozen in the moment of time.

  A myriad of animals raced toward him and just as he was about to cry out, they stopped their course and began to paw and pace the ground just in front of the threshold of the door. As far as he could see, beasts and creatures filled the earth and sky behind the entrance.

  “Why aren’t they coming through?” Jake wondered out loud.

  A beast with the body of a bull, giant wings, and the head of a man, faced Jake and began to call to him. Jake concentrated and could just make out words in a language that he had never heard before. The head of the creature wore a square hat and had a curly beard. It began to call more frantically to Jake.

  A gigantic creature pushed the bull away and stood roaring at Jake. It had the body of a lion, and head and wings of an eagle. It too was calling, and with some effort Jake began to understand the words.

  Call me out. Don’t choose him, Master. The Griffin will serve you well.

  Jake looked around and everywhere creatures and beasts from every legend he had ever heard of, and many he hadn’t, were there. He could sense a million voices calling, mewling, braying – begging Jake to release them.

  A long, scaled, serpentine creature with four legs swooped down closer to Jake than any of the other animals. Azure blue scales like a fish shimmered on the outside and leathery yellow stripes like a snake were on the underside. Two long whiskers came out of either side of its nose and antlers grew from its head. It looked like the dragon Jake had seen at the China Platter Restaurant.

  Call me out of here, boy. The creature said to Jake.

  “I opened the door, can’t you just come out?” Jake called to the beast.

  The door is open, but we must be called.

  Just then, the griffin jumped on the back of the Chinese dragon and with a howl, the two creatures started to wrestle. With renewed effort, the animals began again to squeal, shriek, and hoot, in a cacophony of sound that made Jake’s ears ring.

  “AAAHH!” Jake yelled and the pulse of energy that held time burst away from the carpet. The force tore through the courtyard, knocking down and momentarily paralyzing Zharka’s soldiers and the scorpions. Mark jumped to his feet. Jake watched in a daze as Hazhar grabbed Mark and the two of them took off. Yasmin picked up Seiya and Hillary on her carpet and they flew away, the three turning invisible as they went.

  “WHERE ARE THE CREATURES?” Zharka said in a rage.

  Jake looked over at her, dumbfounded. How could she not see or hear the animals, or at least breathe the odors?

  “What?” she regarded Jake. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Then suddenly, she came in close and her tone changed into a soothing one. “You see something, don’t you, Jacob?
What is it? Where are they?”

  “No,” Jake said, but he had always been a terrible liar, and with the animals still calling to him, it was hard to concentrate enough to lie about their existence.

  “Oh, Jacob—” Zharka began to laugh, but a yell from the courtyard below drew her attention away.

  “Mistress, they’re getting away!”

  Zharka screamed, “GLUPOSTI!! GO, GET THEM!”

  But the soldiers were still dazed and the first strains of light were on the horizon. Jake watched as the night warriors began to take their former figures. Muscles melted into their bodies like bicycle wheels with a fast leak of air. The rugged face of Gheorgy suddenly softened in shape. He morphed until he looked like a thin, greasy–haired boy about to pass out from exhaustion.

  With a yell, she pushed Jake aside and grabbed Tangura.

  “Useless,” she shrieked and threw it off the balcony. The carpet sailed across the courtyard and settled on the ground. A scorpion scuttled over and sat on it.

  Zharka drew a circle in the air with her finger and at the same moment, a circle of green fire surrounded Jake. Then, she turned and threw her hands in the air, touching her palms together. A golden flame began to consume her, starting from where her hands met then spreading down her body. In a matter of moments, she had turned into the most beautiful bird Jake had ever seen. She looked like a peacock, only her colors were like golden flames. Zharka, the bird, looked back at Jake for one moment and then jumped off of the balcony and took flight into the air in the direction that Jake’s friends had gone.

  “What have I done?” Jake muttered to himself in complete shock.

  He looked around at the green fire that surrounded him. Knowing he had to get out, he took off his shirt and hit at the fire trying to smother it. The shirt just went through the flame, the two substances never making contact with each other. Jake hit the fire with more vigor, and the more he hit, the more his emotions began to well up to the surface.

  Finally, emotionally exhausted, he sat down in the circle. His small pale paunch hung out, just over his waistline, his shirt lay useless on the ground beside him, and Jake began to shudder as he held back his tears.

  “Jake, listen to me very carefully,” Farid called out in a calm tone.

  Jake turned until he faced Farid.

  “We’re going to get out of this, but we have to act quickly.”

  Jake nodded.

  “Do you trust me?” Farid asked.

  Jake paused and thought about the question for a moment. It had been a rough night for trust. Jake looked at the man who was still tied up. The man who had said he had a plan to get them out. The man whose plan had backfired. But, that same man was the one that had given him the carpet.

  “Yes,” Jake drew in a deep breath of air and said slowly, “I trust you.”

  “That’s good,” he said.

  Jake noticed that Farid looked as drained from worry and frustration as he felt – it had been a rough night for both of them.

  Jake nodded again.

  “I want you to walk through the fire and over to me,” Farid said calmly.

  As he looked at the green flames that were dancing in front of him, Jake wondered why, a second ago he had been so free with his trust.

  “Trust me,” Farid continued, seeing Jake’s hesitation. “You can walk straight through it. She would never use real fire in her own palace. Watch the flame, it’s not consuming anything.”

  Jake looked down at the fire. It flickered brightly before him, but Farid was right, it wasn’t burning the floor, and it seemed to be dying down a little. He took a deep breath and walked toward his mentor. His thighs and legs felt warm and tingly, but he passed through the green flames without a single singe.

  “Good,” Farid said, “Now, can you find a way to untie these ropes? See if you can locate some sort of sharp object.”

  Jake looked around. There was a statue and some plants that decorated the balcony – hardly sharp objects. Obviously, be prepared, was not his personal scouting motto. The sensation of someone standing behind him made Jake whirl around. The woman in white held a dagger toward them.

  Jake froze and stared at her, but there was no anger in her eyes. There wasn’t fear either and Jake wondered at the look that she was giving him. A sort of pity, mixed with extreme urgency.

  “Take it,” she whispered.

  Jake felt like the world was in slow motion as he took the golden dagger and went over to cut Farid’s ropes.

  The woman ran to the edge of the balcony.

  “Bring me that carpet, Zharka wants it,” she yelled down at the fighters below.

  “But mistress—” Tarezh called back.

  The woman yelled down in a foreign language and the young men began to hustle. Then she came back over to Farid and handed him a maroon and blue carpet the size of her palm.

  “Use the north entrance, by the Ural wing,” her accent was evident. She must be from Russia like Zharka, Jake concluded.

  Farid nodded, “Thank you.”

  The woman nodded back and then walked over to Jake who had retrieved his shirt and whispered in his ear, “I will leave the carpet by the throne, but I may only be able to talk her into keeping it there for a little while.”

  Their gaze locked for just a moment. Her pale green eyes were captivating; Jake had never seen someone convey so much feeling with just the eyes. Then again, perhaps any emotion would stand out when that was the only visible part of the face.

  “Go,” she said and then walked away from them.

  Jake followed Farid hastily and silently off of the balcony, through the marble hall, down several corridors and up a few flights of stairs. He tried to orient himself, but they were traveling so quickly that Jake ended up concentrating on following without making noise. He assumed that the halls were empty because it was so early in the morning.

  Finally, they entered into an open sitting area, filled with low chairs and giant colorful pillows. Five looms were along the back wall. Each held a carpet at a varying degree of completion. Farid opened a window and began to lengthen the carpet that the woman in white had given him. It was skillfully patterned and very similar to one of the half-finished rugs on the loom. For all its beauty, though, it didn’t compare to Tangura. Jake found himself wondering how long it would take to get the other piece from Hillary and return, unsure if he could do it before Zharka moved it from the throne room.

  “To fly more than one person on the carpet,” Farid said to Jake, “you must increase the size of the carpet by about a foot in each direction. Then you fly it as you normally would, flyer typically in front.”

  “Oh, that doesn’t seem too difficult,” Jake said.

  “No, it’s not, unless you get into a combat situation,” Farid said, “then, it can get a little bit tricky.”

  “Well, let’s hope everyone is all tuckered out!”

  Farid gave a slight smile and the two of them climbed on the sill and flew out the window.

  The sky was quiet in the early morning light. Jake kept watching for flyers and Zharka, but couldn’t see anyone. Soon they were at the tent, and to Jake’s relief, Seiya, Hillary and Mark were waving at him.

  “You haven’t seen her?” Farid called down to Cyrus as he circled down and landed the carpet.

  “She’s come by several times, but Seiya has been cloaking the tent.”

  Farid rubbed his chin thoughtfully and Cyrus continued talking.

  “Arshan is hurt,” Cyrus’ thick eyebrows were set in a worried expression and his scar looked pale on his dark cheek. “We’re all a little banged up, but he took a hard fall. Some of the boys took him back to the Isl—”

  Farid cut Cyrus off by shaking his head and looking pointedly at Mark.

  “We’ll have to take him with us, but blindfolded — no offense, Bowers,” Farid said.

  Mark shrugged his shoulders, “I’d do the same to you.”

&
nbsp; Cyrus pulled a bandana out of his pocket and tied it over Mark’s eyes, which led Jake to wonder what else Cyrus had in his pockets. Did it come as standard issue in Farid’s Flying Course 101, and would he be able to sign up for lessons?

  “Let’s get out of here, quickly,” Farid said looking up at the sky. “I’m not questioning your abilities, Seiya, I’m just wondering whether her vision is able to penetrate your defenses.”

  “Man, I thought I was doing really well,” Seiya was deflated.

  Farid heard the disappointment and turned, putting both hands on Seiya’s shoulders, “You have done superbly! I can’t express the debt of gratitude I owe you for saving my sons today.”

  Then he turned to Yasmin and with the pride of a father said, “Yasi, you were phenomenal today. That doesn’t mean you can fly all of the missions! I am in constant worry for your safety, but we could not have won the day without you.”

  Honor and frustration mingled on Yasmin’s face. She nodded and walked into the tent. Cyrus grabbed Mark and followed his sister.

  “Just walk slowly and follow my lead,” Cyrus cautioned Jake’s uncle.

  Farid turned to the Fischers and Jake. “Come back to the Island for debriefing,” he commanded.

  Jake began to wonder if there were any way he could skip the debriefing and sneak back into the palace for his carpet. He speculated about whether he could fly another carpet, but somehow, seriously doubted it.

  “Hazhar, you are on breakdown duty when the others have followed. I need to see to Mark,” Farid said.

  “Yes,” Hazhar was noticeably upset.

  Farid nodded and walked into the tent.

  “What’s breakdown duty?” Jake asked.

  “It means a really long flight home.”

  26. Reparation

  When the teenagers were alone, Hillary walked over to Jake and gave him an awkward hug. Jake breathed in the familiar scent of fabric softener. It felt like home.

  “Way to go, Jake. You did it. You got your uncle out and you have the carpet,” she said as she pulled away.

  “No, I didn’t,” Jake said miserably, “she still has the carpet.”

  Hazhar whistled an uh-oh sort of sound.

  Then Jake caught them up on everything that had happened, from the carpet telling him to come alone with Seiya to help from the lady in white, though he did leave out his un-heroic panic attack in the middle of the green fire.

  “So, why didn’t you and Farid just portal transport from the palace?” Seiya asked.

  “Huh,” Jake said, “I don’t know. I guess Farid just wanted to see if you guys were ok.”

  “Why didn’t you just portal transport to the tent?” Hazhar asked.

  “I thought that you had to go from one like place to the same like place,” Jake said.

  “If it’s the first time that you’ve gone there, yes,” Hazhar informed them. “But if you’ve been there already, you can just imagine the place in your head and you will transport there. You just need a threshold to walk over.”

  “So, I could transport from the tent’s doorway to the palace and get the carpet,” Jake said thoughtfully. “That is, if I had part of the carpet to transport on.”

  Hillary shot Jake an exasperated look and pulled the carpet piece out of her pocket.

  “You brought it?” Jake asked in wonder.

  “Like I’d leave it at home,” Hillary said.

  “But I wanted you to stay at home where you’d be safe… uh, you know, with the carpet,” Jake said, feeling stupid that he sounded like Farid.

  “Like I’d leave myself at home,” Hillary said with a slight duh! edge to her voice.

  “She followed us through the portal,” Seiya explained, “and after you left, she and Yasmin began talking and hatched a plan. When two women have a plan that involves you, I’ve found it’s best to just sort of go with it!”

  “What if the carpet has a plan that involves you?” Jake questioned.

  “Let’s go get it!” Seiya said with a big grin.

  Jake looked over at Hazhar, “we’ll do the breakdown and fly back, okay? Can you take her back to the island with you?”

  Hazhar looked over at Hillary.

  “Fine with me,” he said so gleefully that Jake took a second look at him and watched him watch Hillary. Wasn’t Seiya picking up the major vibe that Hazhar was throwing toward his sister? Come on, where was the brotherly protection?

  Hillary obviously didn’t notice because she was too busy giving Jake an exasperated, did-you-not-get-what-I-just-told-you look.

  “I know Hill, but please – Farid and Mark hate each other and I need you to make sure that he’s alive when I get there! And you can take notes for us at the debriefing,” he said and shot her a pleading, angelic look, the kind he reserved for his mom when he was really pushing it.

  “Fine!” Hillary shot up her hands in a defeated gesture.

  In minutes, Hillary, Hazhar, and all of the gear in the tent had gone back to the Island.

  “Where are we gonna transport?” Seiya asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jake realized. “I mean, the only two places I’m really sure about are the dungeon and the Marble Hall. I am not transporting into jail, and I don’t want to walk right into the great hall. That place is so confusing. Mind if we just fly in?”

  “No problem,” Seiya said.

  They broke down the tent and slung it into a pack on Seiya’s back.

  Seiya put his ninja mask on and soon they were flying toward Zharka’s palace. The scorpion beds were still slightly smoldering, but mostly smoke was billowing from the aftermath of the night’s activities. Jake didn’t feel the same foreboding that he had a few hours earlier. This time, he felt a permeating calm as he flew to the balcony that led to the Great Marble Hall. Seiya was camouflaging them, and compared with what he had just been through, he couldn’t imagine that anything could get worse – not when he had the carpet in one piece again.

  They touched down on the balcony and the morning sun poured in over them. No one filled the court or the skies as they had before. Jake walked off the carpet and peeked inside the hall. Though invisible to the world, Jake felt like a kid in an underwear dream, sure that he was about to get caught, but the hall was quiet and empty.

  On the balcony, the door to the Bestiary was still visible to Jake. Just one creature, a wooly lamb, lay curled-up asleep at the threshold and this time he could hear only a slight din coming from the realm.

  Stay here, he mouthed to Seiya and cautiously walked into the hall and over to the throne and the granite table that held the large golden goblet.

  Zharka’s Ân Dhúin, Jake thought. Could he take it? Did he dare? Maybe he could make a hot pad from some random objects found strewn about and carry the Ân Dhúin back to the Island. A noise behind him made him jump. A white dove had flown into the room and Jake swore that the bird was staring right at him. Jake looked over at Seiya who shrugged his shoulders and motioned to Jake to continue. The bird began to preen, seemingly uninterested in Jake, if she could see him.

  Jake walked to the ornamented silver and gold throne where the other half of his carpet lay. When he saw it, relief washed over him. He quickly grabbed the carpet and joined the two pieces together.

  As the halves became one, Jake set it down and nervously stepped onto the middle.

  “I am so, so sorry, carpet. I thought that I was going to have to give up either Mark or you. I should have come with Seiya in the first place. If I had, maybe Arshan and the other flyers wouldn’t be hurt right now. Also, I opened up the Bestiary. I didn’t want to, but there was a rescue going on and it was the only way I could think of to save everyone. It’s all my fault. Please talk to me. Please know how sorry I am.”

  Finally, Jake was quiet and waited to see if the carpet would say anything. After a few torturous moments of silence, a distinct memory came into Jake’s mind. It was his mom, right after she found out
that he had broken a China platter while climbing on the pantry shelves. She said in a kind but firm voice, “It’s all right Jake, we’ll work it out.”

  Then a picture of the sky entered his thoughts.

  “Okay,” Jake said, relieved. “Let’s get out of here!”

  The carpet rose a foot off of the ground and Jake heard the bird cooing.

  “Oh, that’s just the dove,” Jake reassured himself, “don’t worry, Seiya’s camouflaging us.”

  Jake turned around on the carpet toward Seiya and then stopped short. A giant parrot swooped into the room. It was a strange creature with a gray body and colorful red, green and blue plumes on its tail. It squawked loudly, which woke the lamb-creature in the Bestiary. The lamb began to bleat.

  Oh, no! Thought Jake, he couldn’t take the creatures calling him again; he stared at the animal and tried to shush it. Then he noticed that the lamb had horns, and vines were growing out from under the belly of the animal. The vines were getting close enough to cross over the threshold and Jake was so engrossed that he didn’t even notice when Zhar Pteetsa flew into the great hall and landed on the marble floor.

  The beautiful bird turned its head to the right and the left, looking like a human trying to rid tension from the neck. The gray bird began to squawk and Zhar Pteetsa called back. Hearing the sounds, Jake turned to look and saw her.

  He didn’t breathe. He looked over at Seiya who was still by the balcony, concentrating on keeping them invisible.

  Let’s go, Jake thought, and then wished that the carpet could hear him.

  The carpet slowly began to move toward the balcony.

  Can you hear me if I think to you? Jake thought to the carpet. It had never dawned on him that he could talk to the carpet without speaking out loud.

  Millie’s grin.

  Makes sense, I mean, you can see what’s in my mind!

  Zhar Pteetsa cocked her head to the side and looked straight at Jake. The carpet stopped and Jake froze.

  The bird slowly began to walk toward Jake and the carpet. The white dove cooed and Zhar Pteetsa turned and sang back to the other bird.

  The dove’s distraction took only a moment, but it was enough. The carpet sped toward Seiya who jumped on behind Jake.

  Zhar Pteetsa let out a squawk and then a high pitched screech, as the carpet took off into the early morning light. The bird began to chase the boys as they flew faster and further into the desert away from the Ziggurat. Jake looked behind them and watched as golden fire emerged behind Zhar Pteetsa’s wings carving a trail of light through the sky.

  “So, I’m guessing she can see us?” Seiya yelled into Jake’s ear.

  “Yeah!” Jake agreed and the bird got closer. “Is there any way we can go faster, carpet?”

  The carpet suddenly stopped and dropped. The bird flew past them and the path of fire passed overhead. After a few moments, Zhar Pteetsa screeched and then corrected itself in a magnificent arch.

  “So, a freaky firebird is coming to kill us, and I don’t think that your cloaking is working,” Jake said to Seiya, “I just wanted to say thanks for everything.”

  “No problem,” Seiya said, “but I don’t think we’re gonna die yet.”

  “Why not?” Jake asked.

  “Well, I’m not in a tree and you’re not opening a door of fire!” Seiya said, and then added, “you know, Maiya’s dream.”

  “Yeah,” Jake said, “I caught that, only, I already opened the door. Carpet, any ideas?”

  An image of the tree on the carpet, and his hand reaching to touch it came into Jake’s mind.

  “Okay,” Jake said, a little confused.

  “What?” Seiya asked.

  “I’m supposed to touch the tree in the center of the carpet.”

  “Weird!”

  “I know!” Jake said, and then remembered the apology delivered just a few minutes earlier to the carpet. He reached down just as the firebird caught up with the boys and grabbed the carpet in her beak. She yanked the carpet to the right and Jake and Seiya stumbled a bit.

  Jake looked down and noticed that the golden strands of the tree had reformed into a curved sword. He touched the scimitar on the carpet and was surprised to feel the cold of the blade. He picked it up as Zhar Pteetsa tried to yank the carpet in the other direction. The bird then gave out a roar and grabbed the end of the carpet with her talons.

  Words formed in Jake’s mind as the bird shrieked. YOU WILL NOT CAGE ME!

  Jake drew up the golden scimitar with a curved blade.

  “You must always listen to that carpet!” Seiya said.

  “You fly, I’ll do what I can with this,” Jake instructed Seiya.

  Jake held the sword over his head. It was heavier than Jake was expecting. He tried to bring it down on the bird’s leg. Instead of chopping it off, it left a gash and the firebird yelped with pain and pulled away.

  “Right on, dude!” Seiya yelled.

  Jake held the sword out, trying to look like a warrior. The bird began to retreat and Jake relaxed a little.

  “Let’s go home,” Jake said, suddenly tired from the lack of sleep.

  An earsplitting screech filled the air and Zhar Pteetsa dive bombed toward Jake. He held up his hands to protect his face and the bird’s sharp talons clawed into the chunky white skin of his forearm. He cried out in pain as his arm surged with blood. Then with all his strength, he lifted the sword and swatted at the bird. The dull side of the blade knocked into the bird’s body.

  Zhar Pteetsa shook the blow off, but before she had time to strike again, Jake sliced at her wing with his sword and a small pile of golden feathers fell onto the carpet.

  The firebird let out another mighty cry and the carpet translated the words again in his mind, YOU WILL NOT CAGE ME, BOY!

  Then she turned and flew away toward her palace.

  “Do you think she’s really going this time?” Jake whispered to Seiya.

  “Yeah, she’s gone because you totally plucked her like a chicken, Jake,” Seiya said and picked one of the golden feathers up to examine it. “Wow, this is really beautiful!”

  “It glows like a light in the dark,” Jake said, fingering another one. It was as delicate, as gold leafing, and shimmered like fire dancing.

  An idea came into Jake’s mind, a scene from a movie where a cab driver turned to the person in the back seat and said, “Where to, mister?”

  Jake turned to Seiya, “the carpet wants to know where we want to go. Should we go to the island and pick up Hillary and Mark?”

  Seiya grinned, “Probably should. You ready for a long flight?”

  “Ok, carpet, let’s go to Alliance Island,” Jake said.

  A picture of Jake stretching out the carpet and then sitting down on it came into his mind.

  “He wants us to sit down,” Jake motioned to Seiya while making the carpet larger.

  “Finally! I’m exhausted,” Seiya said.

  They sat down on the carpet with the feathers and sword resting between them and the carpet sped up, making everything below them blurry.

  “You should probably do something about that arm,” Seiya motioned to Jake’s bloody forearm.

  An image of wrapping the wound in one of the feathers entered Jake’s mind. Jake followed the direction and a tingling sensation began to spread over the wound.

  “Got anything to eat?” Jake’s stomach was rumbling.

  “Nah,” said Seiya.

  “Bummer,” Jake said, wondering what Hillary would have had on hand if she’d been with them.

  After filling each other in on all the details of the evening, the monotony of travel began to set in and, despite the cold of the flowing air, Jake and Seiya began to get sleepy. In a few minutes, Seiya began to snore. The carpet rolled itself around the two of them in a makeshift shelter and the firebird feathers began to emanate warmth.

  Jake traced his finger over the design of the carpet. “They told me that you are call
ed Tangura, is that right?”

  Millie’s smile.

  “Oh, it’s nice to have a name to call you. I mean, not just carpet all the time,” Jake said.

  Seiya snorted and then mumbled, “so you gotta try it with pickles and cheese — it’s better than a kiss from Maiya.”

  Jake looked over at his friend and then realized that he was talking in his sleep. He filed away the Maiya comment so that he could bring it up later when he needed to tease Seiya.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Jake asked the carpet. He took the silence to mean yes. “I was watching all of those other guys, all of the flyers. They’re amazing!”

  Jake thought about all of the tricks and fighting that each had done.

  “I mean, they can do stuff I don’t think I’d ever be able to do. So, I guess my question is, why me? Why would you fly for me and not for one of them?”

  An image of Cyrus’ proud face entered Jake’s mind, followed by each of Farid’s flyers. Then Jake saw himself, standing on the carpet in Zharka’s throne room and heard himself say, “I’m so sorry, carpet … It’s all my fault. Please talk to me. Please know how sorry I am.”

  Jake wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. All he saw was the difference between proud warriors and a wimpy kid.

  The image of Mr. Lewis came into Jake’s mind.

  “Should I ask him about it?”

  Millie’s smile.

  Jake began to nod off and, in a few moments more, he and Seiya were mumbling in their sleep together. With its companions nestled in, the carpet took on a burst of speed and whooshed toward the Island.

  27. Reunion

  When Jake and Seiya finally reached the Island, Hazhar took Jake to see his uncle who was resting comfortably in a bungalow on the other side of the Island, away from the main section of buildings. Hazhar said it was because Farid didn’t trust Jake’s uncle at the de-briefing. Jake wondered if “resting comfortably” meant tied up or drugged.

  As they came up to a row of comfortable Island bungalows that looked like they belonged in a fine paradise resort, Jake sucked in a breath of air.

  “Wow! Mark is staying here?”

  Hazhar nodded, “Beautiful, yes?”

  “Why would anyone want to leave?” Jake said as they walked up to one, part of which was sitting on stilts on top of the crystal blue water.

  Hazhar knocked on the door and Jake peeked in the windows that served as walls on the sides of the structure.

  After a few moments the door burst open and a clean-cut Mark, in fresh cotton clothing, stood there grinning.

  “Jake, bud!”

  Jake was so overwhelmed to see his uncle standing there, healthy and happy, that he ran forward and gave Mark a giant hug.

  “Whoa there, little buddy,” Mark said, and then smiled a little. “Glad to see you, too.”

  He invited them in and they walked into a spacious living room. Part of the floor was glass and Jake saw a school of multi-colored fish swimming across underneath them.

  “Not bad for a prison, huh?” Mark said, stretching out his arms.

  Jake fell back into a soft couch and Hazhar sat down next to him.

  “Prison?” Jake asked.

  “Well, not really, but I am under ‘house arrest’ aren’t I?” Mark raised a brow and looked at Hazhar.

  “Well, I suppose that Farid doesn’t want you to see too much,” Hazhar said uncomfortably.

  “Naw,” Mark said clapping his hand on the boy’s back, “I don’t mind, really. It sure beats the rat hole that Zharka had me staying in.”

  Hazhar settled back a little.

  “What, the Marriott from the underworld?” Jake said playfully.

  Mark laughed and stretched out on a couch opposite them. Everything was bright, and light streamed in from every corner, in total contrast to the prison cell that they had shared a few hours earlier.

  “Seriously, though,” Mark said, looking intensely at his nephew, “thank you, Jake, for coming to get me. I don’t know how long I would have been in there.”

  “Oh, the Army would have broken you out,” Jake said, laughing at Mark’s joke.

  Mark shook his head and then chose his words carefully, “Our mission was classified.”

  Suddenly, Jake realized that Mark wasn’t telling a joke.

  “What does that mean?” he asked.

  “Let’s just say that as far as the United States is concerned, none of this exists,” Mark stated.

  “What?”

  “Zharka, Farid, the talents, Ân Dhúins – nothing exists,” Mark said soberly.

  “So, your mission didn’t exist either?”

  “Bingo,” Mark said. Then he cracked his knuckles and leaned his head back on the couch cushions.

  “Uh,” Hazhar cleared his throat, “I don’t mean to rush you, but we need to get back for the meeting.”

  “Oh, we’re still going to have the de-briefing?” Jake had hoped that he and Seiya had arrived too late.

  “Go on,” Mark waved a hand at them, “I’m due for a nap now, anyway.”

  “Ok,” Jake said and stood up. “So, I’ll see you soon?”

  “I’m coming home with you,” Mark said, “so plan on it.”

  Jake looked over at Hazhar to confirm.

  Hazhar shrugged, “Well, Farid doesn’t want him hanging around here.”

  Jake and Mark grinned at each other and then the two boys trudged back outside, jumped onto their carpets and flew to the main part of the island.

  The de-briefing was held in the courtyard. As Jake walked to the sitting area that already housed Hillary, Seiya, Mr. Lewis, and Farid, he was happy to see an assortment of fresh fruits and nuts set out for the taking. Jake’s stomach rumbled as he contemplated the food.

  “Young Jake, please,” Farid motioned for Jake to come and sit down. “We have been telling Rex the details of the night’s adventure, but there is one part that you alone can explain.”

  Jake knew without anyone telling him that they were talking about the Doorway to the Bestiary. He shuddered at having to relive the memory, but then he thought about the carpet in his pocket which gave him a renewed confidence.

  He began to recite the history of what happened, detailing as much as he could remember, stopping every once in a while for effect, and to take a bite of food. Jake took special pleasure in the fact that the others were sitting at the edge of their seats as he talked.

  After a mouthful of a particularly juicy pineapple, he stated, “Then a creature that looked like it had the body of a bull, but a bearded face came to the doorway.”

  “A Lamassu?” Farid asked.

  Hillary handed Jake a napkin.

  “Oh, I’m not sure,” Jake said taking the napkin from Hillary, nodding his appreciation, and wiping his mouth. “I’ve never really seen one before.”

  “Did it have wings?” Farid stroked his goatee.

  “Yes,” said Jake and he ate another piece of pineapple.

  “And had a square, very ornate hat?

  “Yes,” Jake said, wiping his mouth.

  “A Lamassu,” Farid said and he sat back in his chair.

  “The beard was curly,” Jake remembered.

  “Yes,” Farid said, “a Lamassu.”

  “The man-face almost looked like it could be a cross between a human and lion,” Jake said.

  “Yes,” said Farid.

  “Okay,” Jake said, raising his eyebrows because he expected more details than just the name, “What is it?”

  “The Lamassu is a gate-keeper or a protector, from ancient Assyria,” Farid answered.

  “Only natural that it should be the first one there,” Mr. Lewis said, “though, I wonder that there was only one. Usually there are two that stand guard.”

  Jake shrugged his shoulders.

  “Go on,” Farid prompted.

  Jake told them details about the Griffin and the Chinese Dragon.

  “What did the dragon say
to you?” Mr. Lewis was sitting forward, knees bouncing with excitement. “Be precise, we need to know why the creatures didn’t just come out when the portal opened.”

  Jake strained to remember. “Something about needing to be called out.”

  “AHA! We have her!” Mr. Lewis shouted, slapping the table which made the kids jump. Then, seeing that no one quite understood what he meant, he explained.

  “Zharka may have found the words to open the doorway, but without the actual Bestiary of Augustine, she doesn’t know how to unlock them from the sanctuary.”

  “So we have some time,” Farid said.

  “We have some time,” the teacher nodded in agreement.

  “And, with the loss of the Scorpionics,” Farid began.

  “She will have to find a new way to gather information on new recruits. It will take a while to find a suitable replacement.”

  The two men looked like they were about to dance a jig, or at the very least, embrace everyone in the courtyard.

  Jake didn’t want to interrupt the celebrations, but he was genuinely curious and asked the question that all three students were wondering about.

  “What do we have time to do?”

  “We have time to train and find out more of her plans,” Farid began.

  “It’ll be trickier now without Graham,” Mr. Lewis said thoughtfully.

  “Blasted man!” Farid’s eyes shone dark with anger.

  “We also have to find out more about the Bestiary,” Mr. Lewis said, trying to change the subject away from the topic of the double agent. “We should have had this meeting in the war room – I need the internet. I’ve got to get into the Library of Antiquities.”

  The men looked like they were about to run off and make plans, so Hillary tried to steer the conversation back on track.

  “Jake, what happened when you went back for Tangura?”

  “WHAAAAT?” Farid and Mr. Lewis were jolted out of their new strategies.

  “I didn’t think that the carpet would come back,” Jake looked down, sighed and rephrased his thought. “I knew it wouldn’t come back in ripped form.”

  Jake explained to the adults that the carpet had told him to go alone with Seiya, and how he left part of the carpet with Hillary.

  “So,” he continued, “I thought that if I did go back, the way that the carpet had wanted me to in the beginning, everything would work out.”

  “But, she saw you?” Farid asked, holding his breath.

  “Oh, she saw us all right, and came after us,” Seiya said with bravado.

  “I don’t know how, though,” Jake said. “Seiya was cloaking us the whole time.”

  “I think that in her form as the Firebird, she has the ability to see through cloaking,” Farid said.

  Jake and Seiya exchanged a wide-eyed glance.

  “She has a pair of infrared sensory pits on her head that detect heat on living creatures, much like certain types of snakes,” Farid went on.

  “But, the tent,” Seiya said in shock.

  “I made the tent out of a heat shield IR blocking material,” Farid said simply. “Besides, without her flyers or warriors, who were incapacitated by the blast of energy that the carpet emitted, she may have been wary of attacking alone.”

  “So, why did she give up so easily in the sky battle that we had with her?” Seiya asked.

  “Easily?” Jake stopped eating and looked at Seiya, completely deflated, food particles ready to trickle down his chin.

  “Dude, you wielded that scimitar for sure!” Seiya reassured his friend.

  “Thanks,” Jake said with a grin.

  “But, you know, I mean she’s a firebird,” Seiya said, emphasizing the word fire.

  “Oh, yeah,” Jake said.

  “She didn’t spit fire at you?” Farid questioned.

  “No,” Jake said, “I mean, there was fire coming out of her wings, but she never spat out fire or anything.”

  “No frontal attack, capture not kill,” Farid muttered.

  “What?” Jake asked.

  “She knows you know about the door,” Farid said in almost a whisper.

  “Did you tell her?” Mr. Lewis’ eyes were staring intently at Jake. “Was there a time, no matter how small, when you said anything about what you saw to her?”

  “No,” Jake said. He described what happened when he returned to the palace with Seiya. He told them that this time, the doorway to the Bestiary was empty, except for the sleeping lamb that had vines growing out of it.

  “You saw the Vegetable Lamb of Tartary?” Mr. Lewis was enraptured and the look on his face reminded Jake of his father.

  “I guess, but it was kinda creepy,” Jake said, shooting a conspiratorial look at Hillary.

  “Oh, but the things it can do,” Mr. Lewis said dreamy-eyed. “Let’s go the library so I can show —”

  Farid cut in, “remember, Jake, just before she traced the circle of fire around you?”

  “Yes,” Jake said slowly.

  “She knows that Jake saw something,” Farid said. He looked pointedly around at the group.

  28. Future Plans

  Farid’s eyes rested on Jake and he took on a sympathetic tone.

  “To us, you said the last line of the incantation, and then a pulse of white hot energy came out of the carpet. When I looked over at you, I could tell that something had happened, that you had seen something.” He paused for a minute to let that sink in.

  “You and Tangura are too valuable to her. While she can use you, manipulate you for information, she will never destroy you.”

  “So, she’ll come after me, but not kill me,” Jake reiterated.

  “Most likely,” Farid said solemnly.

  “That’s comforting,” Jake said sarcastically.

  “What do we do?” asked Hillary, who had been in silent contemplation until then, and now had such a look of determination on her face that it scared and astounded Jake.

  “Prepare,” Farid said.

  “I have arranged for a special class at the school next year,” Mr. Lewis said with a twinkle in his eye. “We have much work, and much research to do.”

  “And training,” Farid added.

  “And, Jake?” Hillary asked.

  “I have already talked with Commander Bowers, who will watch over Jake,” Mr. Lewis said.

  Farid closed his eyes and breathed out a long sigh that signaled compliance.

  “Yes,” he said, “I suppose that it would be best. Provided that, in connection with the military protection, I train Jake as a flyer.”

  Jake grinned, “Okay!”

  They continued to plan the rest of the details about the class that they would be taking and the training that they would receive. Mr. Lewis promised to provide a reading list so that they could begin to study. Jake made a mental note to give the list to Caleb.

  “Will Caleb and Maiya be part of the class?” Seiya nonchalantly asked.

  “Naturally!” Mr. Lewis responded enthusiastically.

  “I mean, we got to have all of Jake’s Flying Carpet Club there,” Seiya beamed.

  At the end of the meeting, Farid offered to portal transport the Fischers back home.

  “Jake,” Mr. Lewis said, “why don’t you go and get your uncle and portal transport him to your house from his bungalow.”

  “Oh, sure,” Jake said. Then remembering his last conversation with the carpet he asked, “Hey, Mr. Lewis, can I talk with you for a moment?”

  They went into a corner of the courtyard and Jake conveyed to his teacher the last conversation he had with the carpet.

  “Tangura said that you would have the answer.”

  “Hmm,” Mr. Lewis said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure that I have the answer as to why you were chosen over all of the flyers.”

  “Oh,” Jake said. He was tired, and really didn’t want to spend another month trying to figure out something that his teacher may or may not know.

  �
�But,” Mr. Lewis went on, “If I had to guess, and it’s a guess remember, I think that the carpet was telling you that it chose you because you were more humble than the rest.”

  Jake nodded slowly, and then said, “I guess I’ve always been a little weak, but I don’t think that’s really an asset.”

  The teacher chuckled, “No, Mr. Bowers. Let me put it a different way.”

  Jake shifted his weight restlessly.

  “Remember the book about the carpet?”

  “Yes,” Jake said, scratching behind his ear.

  “What was the flyer of the carpet called?” Mr. Lewis asked, giving Jake an intense stare.

  Jake thought about it for a moment, “I think he was called ‘the master’ or something like that.”

  “Exactly!” Mr. Lewis stated.

  There was a pause.

  Jake wasn’t really sure what his teacher was so enthusiastic about.

  “Don’t you see, Mr. Bowers? You are the Master of Tangura.”

  “Well, I guess so, but I don’t really think of myself that way,” Jake said.

  “Yes, that’s it. Any other rider would, but you don’t think of yourself as the Master of the carpet, though you are.” Mr. Lewis was grinning eagerly.

  “Um, ok,” Jake said. He felt a little foolish.

  “Jake,” Mr. Lewis said calmly, “The rider of Tangura wields an enormous amount of power because it is an ancient Ân Dhúin. It can do things that other carpets cannot—”

  “Like open the Portal to the Bestiary,” Jake said bitterly.

  “That’s it!” Mr. Lewis said, “Another rider might open that door for his or her own selfish purposes.”

  “But, I did open it,” Jake said.

  “Yes, but for what reasons? You were forced into it by a very evil woman, and you did it to save your friends,” Mr. Lewis stated. “The carpet had to choose a rider that could be trusted with a great deal of power and wield it for good purposes.”

  Jake looked down at the floor.

  “Humility, the ability to listen and learn from others,” Mr. Lewis tapped the right side of Jake’s forehead with his index finger, “that is a powerful trait! And, one that’s missing in a good many people today.”

  Jake gave his teacher a half-smile, “Thanks.”

  “Anytime,” Mr. Lewis said, “now, please get your uncle off of this Island before Farid goes crazy!”

  “Ok,” Jake said with a real grin.

  “I’ll have a new reading list ready for you tomorrow!” Mr. Lewis called after Jake.

  Let’s go get Mark, Jake thought to the carpet. It rose in the air and circled around the courtyard and then began to go toward the other end of the Island.

  As they flew, Jake got a better view of the area. A flock of colorful birds swooped from one tree to another. The water was sharply blue and the foliage was a shade of green that he never saw in the city. In fact every color looked vivid, as though someone had digitally enhanced the entire Island.

  Jake hoped that he would be able to come back again soon — maybe Farid would train him there. How would it be to have class on the Island instead of the gray cinderblock prison that was Hale Jr. High? He noticed a beautiful waterfall that emptied into a lagoon. Swimming for PE would beat climbing to the top of the gym rope any day!

  Hey Carpet? Jake thought. I have a question.

  There was silence and so Jake proceeded.

  Why did Zharka say, “You will not cage me, boy,” when we were in the sky battle?

  An image came into Jake’s mind. It was his teacher, Mr. Lewis, eyeing Jake with frustration. Then the teacher said, “Do your ancestor report, Mr. Bowers!”

  Jake smiled and said, “Okay, Tangura, I’ll get on it!”

  The End

  Thank you for reading this ebook. If you enjoyed it, would you please leave a review at your favorite retailer, or tell your friends. Reviews or referrals are the best compliments that you can give.

  Thank you so much!

  Laryssa

  About the Author

  Laryssa Waldron is an educator and an author who wants to spend more time traveling the world searching for Ân Dhúins. She speaks Bulgarian, has been in the Army, loves to give motivational talks, inhales chocolate, is married to a giant teddy bear, and is a mother of three princesses. When she is not writing, she tortures English students [she says as she taps her fingers together and laughs – “Mwahhh-haha!!!”].

  Connect with Laryssa Waldron

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laryssa.waldron

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/WaldronLaryssa

  Blog: https://laryssawaldron.com/

 

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