by L. EE
Below that someone had drawn a scary wolflike creature, then an arrow pointing to more formulas and resulting in what Andy recognized as a the pug-nosed, large-pawed herewolf he’d seen carved on the headboard of Mermin’s bed. Mermin had told him herewolves descended from werewolves, but he’d begun to wonder if their lineage was natural or the result of some mad science experiment.
More troubling still, farther down the document he’d seen the drawing of a man. Formulas followed the crude renderings, but it was clear the result had not been successful. He’d always wondered why anyone would want to transform one animal into another, but people?
Andy felt his shoulders tighten. Well, I guess I’ll finally find out what happened.
*****
Thanksgiving vacation found Andy continuing his work deciphering the cryptic writing on the scroll. The more he translated, the more disturbing the clues that emerged. Just this afternoon he had read notations about reducing a being in one form to its base character to release energy for another purpose. It didn’t make any sense to him, but he determined to struggle through it. He kept reminding himself that these particular scrolls had been given to him for some reason, and although he didn’t yet understand why, he had a feeling he would be tested on them and he wasn’t about to fail this exam.
As a sculptor chiseling the form of a terrible monster, that night Andy’s dreams began shaping an alarming hypothesis of what the scrolls might mean. Andy saw himself walking alone. He held his arms up, trying to shield his face from the dust whipping at him as he took step after struggling step across the charred and barren soil. The smell of sulfur assaulted his nose and made his lungs burn. Over the whistling of the relentless wind, Andy could hear the sounds of baying wolves and other beasts he hoped to avoid. He walked for what seemed like hours.
When his feet began to stumble and he felt as though he couldn’t take another step, through squinted eyes Andy saw a dark castle take shape on the horizon. A sense of trepidation gnawed at his stomach as he approached; while he rejoiced that salvation from the elements was in sight, it took every ounce of willpower to resist the fear he felt licking its lips, ready to devour him. He stopped in front of the massive black walls and withdrew Methuselah from its holster. He knew he stood before King Abaddon’s castle fortress, and the blade reassured him he held the power to sever evil from good.
Approaching the gates, they mysteriously opened, and he strode through unopposed by the three dozen burly, well-armored vulture-men he passed. It seemed as if he was a ghost. The massive compound intimidated. Everywhere he looked he saw vulture-people: hardened vulture-warriors squawking orders; older vulture-boys practicing sword fighting much as he and Alden had done with the stone knights; raggedy adolescent vulture-beings pummeling rocks with sticks they’d found. He passed grumpy vulture-women stooping over meager, steaming cook pots and hissing at grimy vulture-children who fought over scraps.
He eventually reached a tall, shiny stone edifice. Gargoyles and other types of ugly, bewitched beings stood as ornamentation both on and around the building. A pair of rough vulture-men finished placing the statue of a husky man on a pedestal directly outside the imposing front doors. The statue’s clothing was chiseled in the fashion of Oomaldee and its right hand was raised, the fist clenched in protest. As they dusted off their hands and waddled away, Andy thought he overheard the vulture-men grumble, “Serves you right.”
He approached and studied the statue. Somehow the man looked familiar, although he couldn’t immediately place him. Reaching the bejeweled stone doors, these too opened and admitted him. As he took his first glance around the shadowy interior, a sense of horror overwhelmed Andy. Around the perimeter statues of men, women, and children stood on black stone pedestals. All were dressed in Oomish styles, and every last one posed in outrage.
He awoke gasping. In the instant it took him to remember where he was, the disturbing images mercifully vanished. He lay in bed, breathing heavily. He glanced at the floor by the nightstand and in the orange glow of his alarm clock located the belt and holster with Methuselah. He grabbed it and brought it next to him under the covers. Only after reassuring himself the sword remained in its rightful place did Andy begin to calm down.
*****
Christmas vacation had come and gone when Andy, bundled in his winter jacket, sat in the attic one Saturday afternoon. He had been working on deciphering the troubling scroll when he decided to take a break. As he headed down to the kitchen for a snack, he glanced out an upstairs window and saw the regular biweekly note from Alden materialize. He walked past Mom and Dad’s office and saw his parents hard at work through the French doors. Madison had gone to a friend’s house for the afternoon. He crept out the front door and retrieved the small trunk.
Mmmm. The smell of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies assaulted Andy’s senses as he opened the lid. Yes! Thank you, Marta! He stowed the still-warm treats in his coat pocket and pulled the note out. A cold blast of winter wind bit him as he opened it, and he decided to read it inside.
Enjoying his third cookie back in his bedroom, he read:
Andy,
As you know, I’ve been studying shriveled fruit for a while now. The prized eggplant is fine, no worries. But yesterday, when I checked the storeroom where the shriveled fruit is kept most of the time, I found something I think you need to know about.
There were wrappings with instructions about how to cure a certain damaged and charred tomato. I don’t think shriveled fruit has figured it out yet, but something’s up. Said fruit has also been more snippy than usual.
Also, the King got a report yesterday that Abaddon’s goons have been terrorizing citizens by turning them into vulture-people. It’s not widespread, just one or two here and there, but the randomness has folks really on edge not knowing if they might be next. Don’t ask how I know, but trust me when I say it’s true.
Your friend,
Alden
Andy thought aloud, “The King’s fine, that’s a relief. But Razen’s been researching how to cure Abaddon. I wonder what injuries Methuselah inflicted this time, beyond blinding him that is. And Razen’s more annoying than normal. Good, sounds like he’s on edge. Serves him right! But Abaddon’s thugs transforming people—?”
Andy gasped. The dream! As the thought registered fully, Andy suddenly felt dizzy. The cookie didn’t taste good anymore and he set it down on his nightstand.
*****
May finally arrived and the end of school neared. Andy wanted to feel excited about starting middle school, but instead he felt antsy. The terrifying recurring dream coupled with more discoveries from the scroll and Alden’s regular updates made him long to be back in Oomaldee defending the people. When will I get to go back? he wondered for the umpteenth time.
Andy noted today’s date on the calendar above his desk: Saturday, May 31. Just ten days until we go to Schlitterbahn Water Park to celebrate my birthday. I can’t wait! No sooner had that thought cheered him than concern erased it. But I don’t understand why I haven’t heard from Alden. I should have gotten a letter from him a week ago.
Andy met Mom in the kitchen making breakfast.
“Have you seen a package arrive for me in the mail?”
Mom looked up from the cook top at the kitchen island after flipping four pancakes. “No, honey, I haven’t. What’s it look like?”
“It’s a small wooden chest. I’ve been writing to my friends in Oomaldee all year. Mermin sends the trunk every two weeks with a letter from Alden, but it’s a week late.”
“Really?” Mom clarified.
“Yeah, he always lands it next to the mailbox.” It was nice to be able to talk about it now that he knew his parents understood his situation, at least in part.
“I’m sorry, Andy. I haven’t seen it.”
After finishing his breakfast, Mom suggested, “Why don’t you go outside and play. It’s a beautiful day!”
He didn’t want to, but having nothing else to occupy him, he no
dded and meandered out the front door. He looked toward the mailbox and disappointment struck once again. I hope everyone’s okay. He spotted a rock in the flower bed and kicked it, ran and kicked it again. He pretended to be a football kicker and booted the rock all the way into the backyard and through the open window of the abandoned wooden playhouse. “Score!”
His celebration cut short when he caught sight of a small wooden chest in the grass next to the garden gnome he’d tried making come to life nearly ten months ago. The box was painted royal blue but looked identical to the missing trunk in every other way. He hastily opened the buckles, pulled out a note, and read:
Andy,
I was concerned about you since we did not receive a response back from the trunk I sent a week ago with the gold envelope. Please respond as soon as possible as we are anxious to hear from you.
Mermin
The trunk last week? A gold envelope!
“Madison!” Andy bolted for the back door.
Since the conversation between Andy and his parents, Madison incessantly pestered him. She knew her parents wouldn’t put up with further questioning as they’d firmly told her, “Maddy, we will tell you what we discussed with Andy when we feel you need to know.” This, of course, completely frustrated her and she let her dissatisfaction be known in a myriad of ways.
“All right, where is it?” Andy demanded, barging into Madison’s room.
“Where’s what?” she replied, an evil smile emerging.
“You know what!”
“Tell me.”
“The chest! The small wooden chest that arrived a week ago!” Andy waved his hands as he spoke.
Madison slid from her bed onto the floor and raised the bed skirt. “Oh, do you mean this chest?”
Andy glared at her for a second before snatching it. He stormed out of her room and down the hall. At least she hadn’t opened it. With his bedroom door closed, Andy lifted the lid. Sure enough, a gold envelope lay on top of a note.
He picked up the gold envelope. The address read:
Andy Smithson, Prince of Oomaldee
Prince? Wow! Yeah, I guess I am a prince. That sounds weird. I’m really glad Madison didn’t open this. I’d never hear the end of it.
He ripped open the envelope, pulled out the single piece of parchment, and read:
Son of the King,
Heir to the throne,
Concern for your people
You have shown.
Sufficient study you have done,
Time for action now has come.
Respect of the people you have earned,
To trust you they have learned.
Your tools make ready,
For your flight that is steady.
Your return to the land,
An entrance unplanned.
But when it will happen? I hope I didn’t miss the window of opportunity because of Madison.
Returning his attention to the recovered trunk, he pulled out the biweekly note from Alden.
Andy,
Nothing new to report on the produce front, but the King asked me to let you know he had Hans implant the Stone of Athanasia under his skin. It’s in his side. You can’t tell anyone though. Only you, me, Hans, and Mermin know.
Yeah, he visited the Library recently and ran into Glaucin. Apparently he got the idea when he learned about Glaucin’s trident implant. Right after that trip he decided it would be a good precaution.
Mom sends her love and, as usual, cookies. Hope to see you soon.
Your friend,
Alden
Cookies? Did Madison eat his cookies? Had she read the note inside the gold envelope?
Andy decided he couldn’t worry about what Madison might have done. He found a piece of notebook paper and penned the following response:
Alden,
Great to hear from you! I’m fine. My annoying sister hid the chest for a week. I just figured out what happened when Mermin sent the blue trunk today. Sorry if I caused concern. Please tell Mermin thank you for me! Maybe he can beam them into my bedroom in the future.
It looks like I’ll be back shortly. The gold envelope in the box said it was time to return. What a relief.
See you soon,
Andy
He took the two chests back out to the front yard and placed them on the left-hand side of the mailbox. Within five minutes they both vanished.
*****
Andy found it hard to focus on anything over the next week. His thoughts kept returning to the most recent note in the gold envelope, and he hoped he didn’t miss his ride back to Oomaldee.
The school year mercifully ended and Andy’s birthday arrived the following Thursday. While the big celebration would be coming Saturday at the waterpark, his parents gave him a cake and presents to mark the occasion of his turning twelve. He would never forget Dad’s speech as he opened his gift from the two of them.
With his hand resting on Mom’s arm, Dad cleared his throat and began: “Andy, Mom and I want to congratulate you on completing elementary school. You’ll be starting middle school in the fall, and we know that’s a big step. We wanted to give you a gift to remember this time.”
He handed a wallet-sized package to Andy.
After tearing the ornate wrappings away, Andy found a cell phone with his name engraved in the shiny black back.
“Yes!” Andy exclaimed, pumping his arm, as Madison rolled her eyes.
“You’ve shown increasing responsibility over the last few months and Mom and I thought you could handle this.” Dad paused and ran his hands through his perfect hair before standing and walking over to Andy and giving him a hug.
I wish he’d just say he’s proud of me.
*****
Saturday, the big day, arrived sunny and warm. Andy was out of bed, dressed, and ready to go in record time. It took the rest of the family an hour to catch up to his pace, but they finally did and set off for the water park. Andy felt the lump in his backpack that was Methuselah with its holster next to his swimming trunks, towel, and sunscreen. Madison sat with him in the backseat drooling over her most recent book boyfriend.
Disgusting!
After staring out the window at the open fields and the umpteenth cow, Andy rummaged in his backpack and pulled out his new cell phone—the compass app fascinated him. They headed east. After playing Angry Birds for several minutes, he glanced out the window to see they’d made it to the loop skirting the northern part of San Antonio. According to the compass, they’d shifted direction and now headed northeast.
“How much longer?” Andy whined.
Mom smiled and said, “It’ll be twenty minutes once we reach I-35. Maybe you can watch for the exit.”
Andy began his vigil, scouring the boring landscape for any sign to I-35. Their path shifted to east by southeast just before he spotted the green highway marker.
About time!
Pacified only a little, Andy stowed his cell phone in his backpack and started jiggling his knee. He glanced back out the window and saw white fluffy clouds overhead. One looked like the head of a dragon. He thought about Daisy, the dragon he and Alden had rescued on his first trip to Oomaldee, and smiled. A long way off, between the clouds, flew a gray bird. It was so small he almost missed it.
“We’re nearly there. Just five minutes,” Mom informed from the front seat.
Andy fastened all the zippers on his backpack and prepared to escape the confines of the backseat.
An hour later, he and Dad stood next in line to ride Dragon’s Revenge, a wicked water coaster. Mom and Madison had gone to buy bottled water. He couldn’t wait to experience the dragon screen tunnel that was supposed to look like a dragon chasing you, about to blast a stream of fire.
I’ll be the judge of how real it is, Andy smiled to himself.
Just before the operator allowed them to board their log car, Andy noticed a park security officer running past the ride.
“Move up,” the attendant instructed, bringing Andy’s atte
ntion back.
The attendant released them, and a minute later Andy and Dad felt themselves chugging up the ramp, propelled by one of the nine blaster pumps on the ride. Water sprayed everywhere and Dad hollered, “Woo-hoo!”
After rounding two curves, Andy noticed a large shadow cross over the chute their log car floated down. He looked up, but whatever it was had vanished. Water shot at his face as he and Dad entered the dragon screen tunnel. The walls lit up orangey red and Andy heard a rumbling noise. Andy flashed back to the fight he’d had with the yellow dragon in Oomaldee and reflexively felt for Methuselah. He laughed at himself, remembering he’d secured the sword in the locker they’d rented.
Another jet of water hit him in the face. Dad looked over and laughed. “Real enough for you?”
Andy didn’t reply. You’ve no idea.
Their raft bumped gently into the dock and they climbed out. Other riders pushed them to the attraction’s exit where Andy caught sight of a dozen park security officials holding spectators at bay and barking orders to stay back. He rushed ahead, leaving Dad to fend for himself as he sought out the source of the commotion. Andy rounded a corner and froze. A gray dragon sat in the path.
“Everything’s okay, folks. Just a publicity stunt I’m sure,” an officer shouted, convincing neither himself nor the gawkers.