Jaden turned the page—and there it was. The unimaginably hideous beast that had been stalking them. The artist’s rendition covered both pages, giving credit to the size of the monster. On the very bottom right-hand corner were two lone words: A Gaptor.
Kayla pointed excitedly at the words. “Do you think that’s what it’s called?”
“I believe so.”
They stared at the image for a long time. Two details caught Jaden’s attention. The first was a bizarre set of horns atop the creature’s head. The thin, flat horns didn’t curve like a ram’s and weren’t stately like a deer’s. Rather, they perched on two subtle, narrow bases tapering upward. As the horns narrowed, a shape resembling an arrowhead crested each. The three tips of the arrowhead pointed north, east, and west, but instead of straight lines joining the points, there were curves, giving each of the horns a fleur-de-lis-type contour. The second detail was just as menacing. What he could only describe as wickedly sharp knives protruded from the ends of each of the eight wingtips.
Jaden pointed at the horns. “I never noticed these before, even when I zoomed in with my palmcam. Did you see them?”
“No, I didn’t. Also, what’s with the blades on the wings?”
“No idea. I didn’t see those either, even when it attacked the eagle. Perhaps this Gaptor isn’t identical to the beast following us.”
“I disagree. I think it’s the same monster, but perhaps the artist added these features. You heard what Awena said about details being added to legends to improve the story. Maybe this was the artist doing the same thing—adding bits to make the beast look more menacing.”
“Maybe so. Let’s finish reading.”
Curious about the creature, Gedrin stepped outside to study it. Without warning, the Gaptor swooped, hideous, curved talons outstretched, reaching for him. Gedrin tumbled backward into the hut. Scrabbling frantically on all fours, he retreated further as the slashing beak crashed through the open doorway after him. With sudden clarity, he understood the beast meant to follow him inside. Although his father had built the tiny home well, the Gaptor assaulted the opening with such ferocity Gedrin feared the bully might succeed.
Aware of the danger to his mother and younger siblings, who had rushed into the room to determine the source of the ruckus, Gedrin feverishly figured how he might draw the beast away from the house without being shredded. He regarded the narrow opening that served as a window. It would have to do. Not considering the cost to himself, Gedrin dashed across the room and hurled himself out the window, intending to use the thick brush against the back wall as cover while he lured the beast away.
Gedrin barely made it into the brush before the beast was above him. It hacked at the branches with the razor-sharp blades on the tips of its wings, spinning like dervishes. While the blades whirred, wood chipped away, and Gedrin accepted the bushes would soon afford no protection.
As hope of escape dwindled, Gedrin spotted the long, heavy iron bar with its chiseled point, used to break up compacted ground. It lay discarded in the herb patch at the side of the house. If he could reach the bar, he might have the means for attack.
But he had to find a defensible position. He scoured the terrain. His first idea was to race back to the house once he had the bar and press his back against the wall, allowing the eaves to protect him from aerial attack. But he dismissed it as quickly as it formed when he realized the monster’s blades would dispose of the wooden eaves as easily as the branches above him. He needed a stronger material. His eyes roamed the open area opposite the hut, and hope rose once more when he spied the windmill. With its reinforced posts, it would surely be more resistant to attack.
But his hopes were dashed again when he calculated the distance. The windmill was too far away. He wouldn’t even make it halfway before the insidious beast would be upon him. Sweat ran down his back, a rising river of anxiety. The Gaptor was only a few inches from his head. Desperately, Gedrin scuttled deeper into the brush growing further from the house, hiding under an intact section. Abruptly, the earth crumbled under him, and he fell, screaming.
Toppling through empty air, Gedrin wondered whether this would be the end of him. Then he crashed into the ground, grunting as his shoulder took the brunt of his falling weight. Dazed, he rose, trying to get his bearings, and realized he was in a tunnel of some sort.
Remembering the beast above, Gedrin scurried down the tunnel, away from the opening created by the cave-in. He squinted in the dim light, perceiving no obvious end to the tunnel, running in both directions. Unsure which way to go, Gedrin hesitated, still disoriented by his fall. After a moment, he gingerly moved sideways until his hands touched the tunnel’s wall. Stone. How had a tunnel this size been carved through stone? His fingers roamed the cool rock, searching for the telltale striations of tools. There were none.
Confused, Gedrin puzzled this oddity until the angry clacking of the Gaptor’s beak rushed him back to harsh reality. Which way? He had to decide. And soon. Although the tunnel’s stone walls provided some measure of safety, the area he had fallen through had eroded to dirt. If he could fall in, the Gaptor could gouge its way in too.
Turning right, Gedrin hoped he had chosen the path that would take him—and the monster—far from his home. He inched forward, feeling his way along the passage, sliding his feet in case there were unseen chasms lying open in the floor. The miniscule light from the opening faded to total darkness. Progress was painfully slow, but with each step, his optimism surged as the Gaptor’s cries grew fainter.
An immeasurable time later, he noticed a faint glow illuminating the tunnel ahead. He stopped. Did this herald an opening? If so, had he escaped? He had not heard the Gaptor for some time now. Moving toward the light, Gedrin was alert to any sound that might hint at the beast’s lurking presence. The closer he drew to the light, the more familiar the opening seemed. Then, when he was barely ten paces from the exit, he figured it out.
Chapter Seventeen
This was the cave where Gedrin had found his father. Had his father been attempting an escape from the Gaptor too? Reaching the exit at last, Gedrin peeked outside, scanning the skies above and the heavy foliage surrounding the cave for any trace of the creature. Finding none, he slid outside. After a few moments, with no movement other than the swaying trees and no noise other than the swishing breeze, he ventured further.
Jubilant, Gedrin traced a dogged path back to the house. But the question that had been skulking in the back of his mind now reared its ugly head. If the Gaptor wasn’t with him, where was it?
The shocking realization that he could have been wrong about his ability to lure the Gaptor away from his family almost froze him in place. He knew his family couldn’t defend themselves. Fear fueled his feet, and he took off at a dead run, sprinting faster than he ever had before. Bursting from the forest, which naturally barricaded their property’s western edge, he heard his family’s terrified screams.
The beast was stubbornly throwing itself against the walls of their home, determined to power its way inside. Rage consumed Gedrin. He veered toward the iron bar, dragging its weighty length into his hands as soon as it was within reach. Trumpeting a ferocious battle cry, he charged, striking the surprised predator on the shoulder. The iron bar drove through the outer shell and deep into the soft tissue beneath. When the beast flailed, Gedrin ripped the bar back out, fearful of losing his only weapon. The beast’s thick, black blood gushing out gave Gedrin immense satisfaction.
Screeching in agony, the Gaptor drew back. Then, quicker than a striking snake, it lunged forward and caught Gedrin unawares. His mother, sisters, and brothers watched helplessly as cruel talons scored deep, bloody trenches across Gedrin’s forehead.
Scarlet rivers pouring from the wounds over his eyes, obscuring his vision. Gedrin stumbled backward. He slumped against the wall of the house, desperately seeking refuge, hastily dragging a hand across his face. But that single moment of vulnerability was all the beast needed. With a victorious
shriek, it thrust its sword-like beak forward and stabbed Gedrin in the heart.
Gedrin collapsed, lifeless, amid agonized wails from his family. Glaring at its fallen foe malevolently, the Gaptor snapped its beak to clear the blood and then savagely plucked the medallion from Gedrin’s neck. Still screeching hideously, it flapped away, the medallion glinting darkly against the ruby evening sky.
“Ugh, that’s disgusting,” Kayla said, referencing the graphic picture portraying Gedrin’s demise.
“Yeah, gruesome.”
Kayla didn’t want to linger on the picture. It was overpowering. Flipping the page, she tried blotting the image from her mind. “Let’s carry on. There are only a few pages left.”
But there was no writing on the next page, just an emotional rendition by the artist of Gedrin’s mournful family surrounding his grave. The final page, however, was what drew their attention, an image of Gedrin’s gravestone. Engraved on the gray, lifeless stone were these words:
Here lies the man Gedrin the Brave
Who fought to death, family to save
Those here now and those yet to come
Know ye he was a seeker’s son
Beware the Gaptor
Beware the Gate
Lest you, ye seeker, share his fate
Kayla didn’t realize she’d tightened her grip on Jaden’s hand until he grunted. He raised questioning eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“No, I just realized something. Remember when you asked if I could recall anything else my mother might have mentioned when she told me about the medallion?”
“Yes,” Jaden answered, his face showing caution.
“She said she’d found it strange when Grammy referred to sneakers while giving the medallion’s history. An incongruous statement, but I didn’t think to question it. I simply accepted it as part of the story, not something that had any relevance.”
“So?”
Kayla took a breath and rushed on. “What if she heard my Grammy wrong, and it was actually ‘seekers,’ not ‘sneakers?’”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“Don’t you see? Seekers are the people who have medallions!”
“We’re seekers then—so what?” Jaden challenged.
“You agree then, from the inscription on his gravestone, that Gedrin and his father were both seekers?”
He nodded.
Kayla rolled her eyes. He wasn’t connecting the dots yet. “Jaden, the warning on the gravestone, the title of the book—Seekers Beware . . .” Finally, she saw it click for him.
“Oh. If this thing that’s chasing us is the same as the Gaptor in this book, and if we’re ‘seekers’ because we’re the current medallion keepers, then the Gaptor might attack us? It might try and harm us, like it did Gedrin and his father?”
“Yup, I think that’s what the title is warning us about. Not that understanding all this makes me feel any better. Then again, knowing there’s a chance this thing might come after us is better than being attacked unawares.”
“But, if this beast is so intent on attacking the people with medallions, then why hasn’t it attacked us yet? It’s not like it hasn’t had opportunities.”
Kayla considered. “Well, we haven’t seen it since we found the medallions, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“What if the Gaptor doesn’t attack until you physically have the medallion in your possession?”
“That’s insane! How could it possibly know when we get the medallion?” Jaden released his hold on her hand and jumped up to pace.
Kayla reeled at the sudden loss of her connection to him. Whereas she had felt capable and confident only a moment before, she now felt abandoned and adrift, like her lifeline had been severed. Struggling with this bewildering revelation, Kayla did her best to shrug it off, telling herself she was being ridiculous. He only let my hand go!
Ignoring his tone and her own churning emotions, Kayla answered as calmly as she could. “I don’t know how it knows, but it knew who had it in the book, and it’s been following us without attacking. Maybe it knew before we did that we would find the medallions, and it’s been keeping its distance until we did.”
“Yeah, right. It’s got a sixth sense that allows it to discern who will have a medallion and when.”
Kayla’s own irritation flared. “Well, why don’t you give me an explanation then?”
His eyes widened in surprise, and he took a steadying breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t vent at you. This isn’t your fault. We’re in the same boat here.”
Kayla accepted the apology sardonically. “Glad we’re back on the same page. But you haven’t answered the question. Do you have another explanation for what’s happening?”
“I don’t,” Jaden sighed. “Your theory is logical, and I don’t have any other ideas.”
Kayla relaxed. She had wondered if he would be irrational about this. Relenting, she said, “Well, that can at least be our working theory until proven otherwise or until we get more information.”
Jaden nodded. “Now that we know the monster’s possibly called a Gaptor, why don’t we go back to my place and run new searches? Maybe we’ll find something more useful than what is in this book.”
“Sounds like a plan. But I’d like to take the book with us.”
“Why?”
Kayla fidgeted. “This will probably sound silly, but does your hand tingle when you hold your medallion? I mean, does it somehow feel like it’s a part of you?”
“Interesting you should mention that. And no, it doesn’t sound silly, only because I’ve experienced the same thing. It’s as though I can’t bear being separated from it.”
“Me too,” Kayla whispered, surprised by his admission. Guys weren’t usually into sharing their feelings. It rekindled the connection she had felt with him. “Do you have your medallion with you?”
Silently, he removed it from his wrist wallet and displayed it. “You?”
She slipped the necklace holding her medallion out from under her shirt and held it up in reply. “I want to take the book because it makes me feel the same way as the medallion—like the book’s something precious we should protect.”
Jaden ran his hand over the book and smiled. “Yes, I suppose it does. Okay, let’s see if we can take it home.”
They stood and stretched, then meandered back to the circulation desk. Awena glanced up. “Find what you were looking for?”
Kayla felt like a bug under a microscope. Why do I feel this strange woman is hiding something?
Jaden answered. “In a manner of speaking. Are we allowed to check this book out?”
“Yes,” Awena replied, almost before Jaden had finished asking. “I’ll do that for you. Do you have your Daxsos resident card?”
Kayla gazed helplessly at Jaden. “I haven’t made time to get one yet. Do you have yours?”
“I’ve got it covered.” He removed the smart card from his backpack and handed it to Awena, along with the book.
Kayla studied Awena as she swiped the card. Abruptly, shrill beeping emanated from the printer. Kayla turned in time to see the printer randomly spewing paper into the air. Fascinated, Kayla watched, aware Jaden was doing the same.
Awena’s earlier rushed response to their query about taking the book home and the printer’s distracting behavior suddenly registered, and Kayla spun back to face Awena. Did Awena just run a different book through the scanner? Leaning forward so she could peer around the edge of the monitor and check the coding, she became even more suspicious when Awena turned the screen away. Before she could ask questions, though, Awena smiled.
Handing the ancient book back to them, she said, “Here you go, duckies.”
“What’s the deal with the printer?” Jaden asked, still staring at the effects of the paper storm—a white, haphazard accumulation littering the front room.
“Who knows! It’s old and temperamental.” Awena tutted disapprovingly. “I’ve stopped wondering w
hy it does things anymore. It just does. Now I suppose I must deal with its idiosyncrasies. Did you need anything else?”
Kayla remembered something she had meant to ask earlier. “Yes, actually. You kindly explained the differences between myths, legends, and folklore. Which category would this book fall into?”
Awena’s bright smile replaced her scowl. “An excellent question, but one I’m afraid there’s no clear answer to. This book defies definition because it contains elements of all three.”
“Oh,” Kayla mumbled, disappointed. Another thought occurred to her. “Well, are there others like it? I mean, are there other books dealing with the same subject?”
“I’m afraid not,” Awena said, her face growing serious. “It’s one of a kind. Please, have a care with it. If it’s lost, we can never replace it.”
The warning tone threading her words needled Kayla’s awareness. “You make it sound like losing it would be the end of the world.”
“It very well might be,” Awena mumbled, so softly that Kayla strained to hear her response.
But hear it she did. And from his expression, so had Jaden. Jaden’s hands tightened around the book, as though to protect it, even there.
“We’ll take good care of it,” he promised.
“And take special care of yourselves too. Don’t take any unnecessary chances,” Awena said, turning to answer the now ringing comm-unit on her desk.
Kayla glanced at Jaden. He was watching Awena with the wariness of a lone human facing a pack of starving wolves. Jaden flicked his gaze at Kayla, and she understood. Is Awena giving us another warning?
By unspoken agreement, they waited, willing Awena to finish the call so they could question her further. But she waved them off, transferring the call to a back office and disappearing inside.
Dawn of Dreams (Destiny Book 1) Page 12