by Lija Fisher
“So what happened?” Charles asked weakly as he wiped some spittle from his lip with the back of his hand.
“Well, the folks in town decided that enough was enough. Carl mixed some sleeping pills in with Rob’s whiskey one day, and while Rob was asleep the townsfolk snuck into his cabin to gather up all the feathers. Now, don’t think it didn’t occur to all of them what they could do with that kind of power, what they could force others to give them if they wielded those weapons. But one thing stopped them.”
“What was that?” Clivo asked, gently putting Alex’s hands back on the controls since Alex seemed to have forgotten that he was flying the plane.
“The townsfolk crept into a back room and discovered the Thunderbird, as you called it, all caged up and looking worn and torn. This poor creature was pinned in the cage, its wings clipped so it couldn’t cut through the bars, most of its feathers plucked clean off. And the sound coming from it, whew, nobody had heard such a pitiful cry for help in all their lives. The townsfolk looked at each other and realized that by wielding such power, the only thing that came from it was the ability to hurt others.”
“With great power comes great responsibility,” Amelia quoted.
“Best quote from Spider-Man, ever, dudette,” Adam agreed.
“That’s right,” Alex said. “So the townsfolk made a decision right there and then that the only way to make things right was to return the creature back to where it belonged and destroy every feather they could find. They called in a local Native American tribe, whose members performed a sacred dance around the Thunderbird, asking for its forgiveness and promising it protection. Then they let the bird go, unsure if it would attack them or what. But the bird hopped out of the cage, flapped whatever noble wings it had left, and bowed its head to the folks before taking off into the wilderness.”
“That’s beautiful,” Stephanie said.
“Sure is,” Alex agreed. Then he let out a cackling laugh. “And woe be to those who come to Montana in search of the great bird, ’cause they’ve got a whole Native American tribe and group of townsfolk who will quickly show them the door. That thing will be protected for a good while to come.”
Clivo took in the story. In addition to the Wasi in Egypt, there were obviously others in the world who lived in harmony with cryptids and did their best to protect them. Clivo and the Blasters weren’t alone in their endeavor, and it made Clivo feel better that maybe there were more good guys in the world than he knew.
“Anyway, you asked me why someone would want to take the creatures,” Alex continued. “And there’s only one reason why: power. And not the good kind of power, where you help others. The bad kind, where you hold it over people just to make your life easier. That’s why you gotta keep the myths a secret. They give folks something to hope for, and they keep the power balance in the world right. Humans aren’t fit to be kings, not yet anyway.”
“Don’t worry, Alex, we don’t want to be kings, and if we’re ever lucky enough to see a creature, we’ll do everything we can to protect it,” Clivo assured him.
“Everything,” Hernando quietly agreed.
Alex pulled his goggles away from his face and wiped his eyes, a few stray tears running down his face. “You’re good kids, very good kids. Now, you may want to strap your seat belts on tight, ’cause I haven’t been paying attention and we’re about to say hello to another bird.”
Clivo cinched his belt just as Alex rolled the plane to the left. Another small plane whizzed by so close to them that Clivo saw the shocked face of the other pilot, who dropped a doughnut onto his shirt as he scrambled to grab the controls.
IX
Six hairy hours later, the plane landed at a small airport south of the city. Everyone climbed out, and Charles dropped to his knees and kissed the ground. “I prayed to so many different gods on that flight, I think I just converted to twenty religions.”
Clivo shook Alex’s hand. “Thanks, Alex. We’ll be back in a few hours.”
“No problem, kids. I’ll just be doing a few repairs on Bertha here while I wait and then we’ll get you back to the mountains safe and sound.” He patted the plane, which let out an ominous, creaky groan of protest. “Bertha! Quit being a drama queen!”
They took a taxi van into Boston, the air in the city as hot and humid as it had been in Egypt. Clivo was grateful that the driver had the air conditioning on full blast.
The taxi wound its way downtown between the tall skyscrapers, and eventually it stopped in front of a narrow cobblestone alley lined with buildings that looked like they were from colonial times. The redbrick structures with black shutters were squeezed together without any space between them, and old-timey gas streetlamps flickered on the sidewalks. Clivo felt like the British redcoats were going to come running around a corner at any second.
“Okay, remember, let me do the talking,” Amelia said. “The Oracles are tetchy and clam up if you offend them. Agreed, Adam?”
Adam gave her a salute. “Yes, commander, but let the record show that I’m gonna hate every second of this.”
“Charles? Do you agree?” Amelia asked.
Charles snorted, but nodded. “That doesn’t mean I can’t curse them silently in my brain.”
“That’s good enough for me. Let’s go in,” Amelia said.
They walked down the deserted cobblestone alley until they were standing in front of a run-down storefront. The door was made of weather-beaten wood, and gold lettering on the fogged-up window read ORACLE BOOKS: RARE COMICS FOR THE DISTINGUISHED READER.
“They’re so pretentious,” Charles mumbled.
“Charles! Zip it!” Amelia warned.
She pressed the button on an intercom system, and a doorbell that sounded like a laser echoed inside. After a moment, a monotone voice sounded. “Who seeks entry?”
“Hello, Exalted Ones. It’s Amelia and the Myth Blasters,” Amelia replied.
“Who?”
Adam clenched his teeth. “They always pretend not to remember us, and we’ve been here, like, a million times.”
Amelia gestured to Adam to keep quiet and continued speaking. “I’ve brought an offering to The Ones Who Know All.” There was a pause and then a buzzer sounded, unlocking the door. “Come on, guys, we’re in.”
Clivo followed Amelia through the door and entered a stuffy room covered in the most comic books he had ever seen. Rows of boxes held thousands of comics, each one delicately encased in a plastic sleeve. Several cases stood throughout the room, all heavily padlocked. The room was completely dark save for a few spotlights that shone on what must have been very special comics on display inside the cases. The room smelled like dust and ink, and Clivo’s nose itched with a desperate need to sneeze.
Amelia walked to the back of the store, where two people, a guy and a girl, sat behind a counter. Clivo was surprised that they looked to be about his age, as he definitely had been expecting someone older and wiser, perhaps with a long white beard that stretched to the floor. Both kids wore black clothes, fedoras, and dark sunglasses even though the store had such dim lighting. The girl’s purple shoulder-length hair was really the only feature that distinguished her from the boy next to her.
“Hello, Oracles,” Amelia said, giving them a little bow.
Adam sniffed behind her and she flung her heel back and kicked him in the shin. He shuffled backward, limping, as Amelia continued.
“I brought you an offering.” She laid a paper bag from her satchel on the wooden counter and pushed it forward.
The girl, who, like the boy, had extremely pale skin like a vampire’s, stared at Amelia for a long moment before taking the bag and peering inside. “All green M&Ms?”
Amelia nodded. “With one red one. Just as you like.”
Clivo felt as if he had entered some kind of twilight zone. He definitely had not pictured anything like this scene.
The girl oracle put the bag under the counter and motioned for Amelia to continue. Amelia cleared her throat. “We’
re looking for a creature, not human, that might be immortal. What traits must this creature possess that can help lead us to it?”
The girl was about to speak when the boy next to her held up his hand and spoke in the same monotone voice, like a bored emperor addressing his subjects. “Before we answer, I have a question for the one in the back.”
Adam looked up from where he had been flipping through a comic and adjusted his glasses. “Don’t get started with me, dude.”
The boy crossed his arms. “Who’s stronger? Martian Manhunter or Superman?”
Adam let out a loud groan, and Amelia spoke to him in a harsh whisper. “You know the answer he’s looking for! Just give it to him!”
Charles walked over to Adam and patted him on the back. “Be strong, dude, you can do this. We’re working for the greater good here.”
Adam answered through clenched teeth, looking as if the words physically pained him. “Martian Manhunter is more powerful than Superman.”
The boy oracle slowly rocked back and forth in his chair. “That is the correct answer.”
Adam grimaced and mumbled to himself.
“I know that hurt,” Charles whispered to Adam. “I’m proud of you, dude.”
The girl oracle continued. “Let us look at the immortal traits in the comic mythology, and let that guide you to the creature you seek.”
The Oracles stood up and slowly walked around the room, sorting through the boxes and pulling out comics.
Charles held one up and spoke to the Oracles. “Dudes, do you need a copy of Avengers with Mister Immortal?”
The boy oracle waved his hand dismissively. “The Oracles require no help.”
Charles looked like he was about to angrily say something, so Stephanie put her hand on his arm to keep him calm. “Do your breathing exercises,” she whispered.
Charles began breathing heavily through his nose, apparently to calm himself, but all it did was make him look like an angry rabbit.
After gathering several more comics, the Oracles returned to the counter at the rear of the strange shop. The girl began speaking like she was imparting pearls of great wisdom. “Looking at every immortal superhero won’t give you clues about immortality, because their origin stories are all different. The samurai Manji was made immortal by an eight-hundred-year-old nun, Deadpool was cursed by Thanos, and Ultron can simply download his mind into other machines. There’s no unifying thread for why they’re immortal.”
The boy oracle took over, pulling up his pants, which had begun sliding down. “So we need to look at other unifying factors.” The boy reverently held up a comic book whose cover showed a woman shooting a bolt of lightning from a broom. “Witches.” He held up another comic, delicately stroking the plastic cover. “Vampires.”
Adam reached for it excitedly. “Dude! You have the new issue of Vampire Hunter D? That’s, like, a super limited edition!”
The boy pulled it out of Adam’s reach and addressed Stephanie. “Please control your minions.”
Stephanie squeezed Adam’s shoulder. “Just a few more minutes; you got this.”
The boy held up another comic, the cover showing a creature that appeared to be half man, half dragon. “And finally, the shape-shifter.”
The girl oracle nodded. “All of these are immortal, and all of them have something in common.”
“They’re all super cool, that’s what,” Adam muttered.
The girl oracle stomped her foot, all decorum lost. “Would you just let us finish! Geez! We’re doing this totally awesome presentation, and all you do is interrupt! You’re so rude!”
The boy oracle agreed. “Yeah, man. It’s, like, do you want to know this or not?”
Adam pushed his way to the countertop. “You could do it with a little less pomp and circumstance, you know!”
“Then you figure it out, Skeletor!” the girl shot back. “We’re done here! Get out!”
Clivo moved Adam out of the way and faced the Oracles, who were gathering up the comics. “Wait! I’m really sorry. My friends and I are just under a lot of stress right now because we’re in a lot of danger.”
The Oracles paused and watched him warily.
Clivo stared at the countertop, wondering how much information he should divulge to them. The Blasters were out of clues, and the longer he waited to find the immortal, the more time someone else had to find it. Clivo took a deep breath and made his voice as serious as he could manage. “There’s an evil presence in the world, and it’s growing day by day. The only way we can stop it is to find this immortal creature, but we don’t know what it is. If you help us, you’ll be saving the world.”
The Oracles shuffled their feet, seeming to like the sound of it. The girl oracle spoke. “So, we’d be like the superheroes we read about?”
“Better,” Clivo said, nodding his head slowly. “These characters are myths. You’ll go down in history as actually saving the world.”
The boy scratched his nose. “Like, from really evil stuff? I mean, super evil?”
“The worst,” Clivo confirmed.
The Oracles looked at each other, their solemn faces breaking into big grins. The girl jumped up and down. “I told you all this reading would come in handy someday!”
“Yeah, and to think Dad wanted me to take up baseball instead! As if that’s going to save the world!” the boy oracle agreed, also jumping up and down.
The girl gathered herself and leaned forward on the countertop. “Okay, so the one thing you need to look for if you want to find this creature is this.” She looked down at all the comics, waving her hand over them like she was casting a spell. “They’re all eaters of the dead.”
Hernando leaned into Amelia, who gently held him upright.
Clivo swallowed. “Eaters of the dead?”
“That’s right,” the boy said, equally as excited as his sister. “In cryptid mythology, which is your territory, look for an eater of the dead. That’ll be your guy.”
The girl oracle pulled a comic from a box behind her and put it on the counter. It showed a vampire-like creature with huge wings and ferocious claws, teeth sharp enough to rip through anything. “Witches, vampires, and shape-shifters are the only myths that can be found in every country. They’ve been around forever, and they’re woven into the fabric of world lore. They’re more than just stories; they’re real. Find the cryptid that combines their qualities, and you’ve found your immortal.”
“One that eats the dead.” Clivo swallowed.
The boy oracle gave him a lopsided smile. “Nobody said that saving the world was going to be easy.”
The door to the shop slammed open and the lights blazed on, causing everyone to jump and blink at the sudden brightness. A man with a shiny bald head stood with his hands on his hips, looking fuming mad. “Brian and Sarah! This is a shop, and a shop needs to be open! How many times do I have to tell you that if you want to run the place, you have to actually unlock the door?”
Brian and Sarah whipped off their sunglasses and looked ashamedly down at the counter. Sarah brushed her purple hair away from her face. “Sorry, Dad, we were just—”
“Your job here is to sell stuff! Not play make-believe!” their father yelled.
Clivo stepped forward. “It’s my fault, sir. I always like mood lighting when I’m making an important purchase.” He pointed to the Vampire Hunter D comic. “How much for that one?”
Brian, the boy oracle, looked at the comic in surprise. “It’s, like, five hundred bucks.”
Clivo pulled out his wad of petty cash and handed over some money. “I’ll take it. Thank you for all of your help.”
The dad’s face broke into a shocked smile. “Well, now! Looks like I was mistaken. My apologies! Thanks for coming in, kids! Thank you for your business!”
Sarah glanced at Clivo and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Clivo leaned forward and whispered, “Keep what we talked about a secret, please?”
Sarah smirked. “Don’t worry. Savi
ng the world never involves adults.”
The Blasters exited the store, with the dad clapping them on the backs and shaking their hands in thanks on their way out. Once they were outside, Adam exploded in a tirade. “The Martian Manhunter is so not stronger than Superman! Superman has heat vision! He just says that to toy with me!”
Clivo handed Adam the vampire comic. “Here, Adam—a gift for playing it cool in there.”
Adam held the comic as gently as a newborn baby. “Oh, duuuuuude! Have I ever told you how much I love being on this team with you?”
Clivo turned to Amelia, who was spinning her nose ring in thought. “Did we get what we needed?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Now we need to find an eater of the dead, and I know just where to look.”
* * *
Half an hour later, they were standing in front of a massive library that was at least four stories tall and had giant Roman pillars out front.
Stephanie inhaled deeply. “Mmmm, I love the smell of a library on a warm summer afternoon.”
Amelia eyed the place hungrily. “This place has a great section on rare world mythology books. I just need half an hour in here, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah, totally fine,” Clivo said, looking at his watch. “We should get back to the plane soon—I don’t want to give Alex a reason to forget about us—but we have a little bit of time.”
Clivo glanced around the large grassy area, which was filled with people enjoying the waning afternoon sun. He wasn’t sure what was bothering him, but an eerie feeling was making his hair stand on end, as if someone was watching him. He scanned the lawn. People were lounging on benches reading, kids ran around while their parents stared at their phones, and one guy in a mime’s outfit was juggling some bowling pins.