by Aaron Gansky
“Let me guess,” Erica said. “No showers in Alrujah?”
“Not in the monastery. Most inns in the different towns have bath houses.”
“Figures.” She sniffed her armpits. “Ugh. Going to be an ugly day.”
For the first time since she woke up in Alrujah, Lauren laughed. “Somehow, I don’t think anyone’s going to mind, so long as you can still call down swarms of razorbeaks.”
“I don’t suppose you can conjure up some deodorant or something?” She continued stretching, twisting from side to side, her arms in a hoop.
Lauren ran her hands up and down her arms, then her legs, hoping to stimulate some blood flow. It was cold, and her blood felt thick.
Erica cracked her knuckles, rubbed her hands together. “What do you think is so important?”
“I have no idea.”
“Didn’t you make this whole game?”
“Most of it, but it’s not the same. Things that are supposed to happen aren’t. Things that weren’t supposed to did. I don’t really know anything anymore.”
Erica tried to pull her hair back. “I really hate my hair.”
“Sorry.”
“Whatever. Let’s just go before Oliver the cryptic monk leaves without us.”
* * *
Oliver’s eyes felt as dry and hot as deserts. His entire body ached. He leaned against a tree next to Aiden outside the main chapel. Where Oliver was stiff, Aiden was limber. He threw his armor on in about half the time it took him yesterday. He learned quickly.
The lesser sun had barely cleared the Dragon’s Back Mountains. The chill in the air stabbed through Oliver’s robe. Monks loaded several carts with wooden crates filled with books and food. They worked in silence, with Dillard and Eljah directing them with nods and gestures.
“Bro, I’m totally confused right now. We just got here. Why are we taking off?”
“It’s not safe here. When Korodeth realizes his Chameleon Soldier never reported, he’ll send his troops out in full force.” He scanned the south building. Erica and Lauren should arrive soon.
“Why would he? Isn’t he on our side?”
“Tensions are too high right now. He wouldn’t have had a man here if he trusted the monks. So, he wouldn’t think twice about razing the place.”
Aiden bit into an apple. He chewed it loudly. “Would Ribillius really let him do that?”
“Ordinarily, I’d say no way. But the way things have played out so far, anything’s possible. And Eljah sure thinks Korodeth would do it, with or without Ribillius’s blessing.”
Three monks led the five horses to Oliver. With a nod, they tied them to five separate trees. Each was saddled, and each saddle had two bags filled with fruits and vegetables, breads and cheeses. Oliver’s, however, bursted with books.
Ullwen emerged from his quarters, his curly black hair pulled back behind his shoulders. His beard had grown thicker.
Oliver ran his fingers over the stubble on his chin and wondered if Erica liked facial hair or not.
Behind Ullwen, Lauren and Erica emerged. They came up to him quickly. “So what’s the rush?” Erica asked.
“Long story short, we’re not safe. The monks are disbanding and heading to different chapels throughout Alrujah. We’re going to Margwar.” He mounted the golden steed. “Food’s in the saddlebags.”
Ullwen unhitched the horses and leapt on to Blaze’s back.
Aiden deftly climbed on his horse and began rummaging through the packs of food. “Cheese? You kidding me? Finally, some protein!”
Erica put a hand on Midnight’s black neck. “Missed you, too,” she whispered. She climbed on his back and ran her fingers through his mane.
“Hold on a minute,” Lauren said. “Margwar is abandoned. Why would we go there?”
“To get The Book of Things to Come. Its prophecies should point us to The Book of Sealed Magic. If we can find that, we can likely find our way home and save Alrujah in the process.”
* * *
Bailey had been asleep for an hour when her alarm went off. The sun wasn’t up, and she shouldn’t be either. She’d made up her mind not to go to school today. She wanted a day to figure things out. She’d go back tomorrow. She turned the alarm off and closed her eyes.
Another alarm went off. She sat up. The faint sound carried through thin doors. Lauren’s alarm.
Bailey looked around her room. Hot tears surrounded her eyes. She kicked the covers off, chastised herself for not turning Lauren’s alarm off last night. Thank God her mom’s room was on the other side of the house. If Mom heard Lauren’s alarm, her tears would never end.
She shuffled into Lauren’s room, banished the horrendous images her mind had conjured last night and hit the snooze button with sluggish fingers. Eyes half-shut, she fiddled with the clock until she’d found the switch to turn the alarm off completely.
4:30 AM.
She didn’t know why she stood in the room for so long, couldn’t explain it if she tried. She took in the shelves and shelves of books and video games, the tiny television and Xbox 360 balanced on her desk. Her bedspread was rumpled, sheets askew. Homework littered the floor. Every detail insisted Lauren was there, or had been there recently.
Lauren didn’t have to get up early. She could sleep in an extra hour, easy, if she wanted to. But she got up early every morning to take Bailey Renee to school so she could watch current events in her Honors Social Science class. Had Bailey ever thanked her?
She probably hadn’t.
Bailey Renee wiped her cheeks with the sleeves of her flannel pajamas. She stepped over the scattered paperwork, slid into Lauren’s bed, and pulled the covers over herself. She closed her eyes, smelled Lauren’s Mountain Breeze shampoo on the pillowcase, and fell asleep quickly.
* * *
Black rock jutted up from the otherwise flat expanse of the Harland Plains like a wall of fractured marble. Beyond it lay the western fork of the Fellian River. More than hills, but less than mountains, the rock formation defied labeling, and didn’t even appear on the map of Alrujah. Oliver must have pulled the information from Vicmorn’s memory. Lauren sighed.
Within the black rock, a series of caves ran together. Most didn’t extend very deep but provided enough room for ancient travelers to find shelter from storms, a place to stay warm through blizzards and the like. However, most travelers used the shoddy roads between cities now and avoided these caves.
But within the series of caves, two ran very deep. Carved by the dwarves, these were used as escape routes during the Plague of the Nar’esh. Few survived long enough to make it through them. Still, Lauren and her friends should be able to make it to Margwar through these, if they could survive the nar’esh.
It took most of the day to reach the caves. Along the way, Oliver explained the details of why they needed to hurry, and why they had to leave at all. While Dillard could repeat the entire book, several portions were indiscernible. Mystery veiled the prophecies. Several portions of it were in the language of Adonai. And while Dillard and several of the monks were well versed in various languages, none comprehended the language of Adonai. It wasn’t for men to know the tongue of Adonai.
“And Adonai is God, right?” Erica asked.
Ullwen chuckled. “You speak as if you don’t know Adonai.”
“Maybe I don’t.”
Ullwen spoke harshly. “Careful. You border on blasphemy.”
“On what?”
Oliver broke in. “Forget it. We need to think about how we’re getting down to Margwar. It’s going to be pretty tough.”
They slowed when they reached the rocks. The horses climbed the steady sloping path gingerly; making sure each step was solid. The narrow path had only enough room for one horse to pass at a time, and while not high enough for a fall to be fatal, such an accident would hurt for days.
Oliver led the group, and Ullwen took up the rear. The horses plodded along, their hoof-falls echoing over the valley below. Oliver liked the sound. Unlike
the horse he rode to Castle Alrujah, this was a war horse. Erica had told him the horse’s name was Wrath. Far too harsh a name for such a wondrous animal. Thick with muscle, it responded so quickly to the slightest nudges, Oliver felt as if he, not Erica, was the summoner.
He slowed to a stop as all of the horses made it to the upper ledge. They looked over the valley of plains spread out beneath them. Far to the west, the torches of Harland’s eastern wall flickered.
Aiden pointed to the dancing orange glow in the distance. “They always lit up?”
“Aye,” Ullwen said. A simple answer to a simple question.
Oliver leaned to Erica. He swore he could still smell her perfume, a delicate waft of earthy oleander, a faint woodsy smell. Had his memory conjured the scent to trick his mind, or had she picked up the scent of the harspus trees in the Cerulean Woods? It made no difference. His enjoyment of the aroma was not dependent on his understanding of its origin.
He nudged her with his elbow. He wanted to get her attention, but he also wanted to test the waters of physical contact. Would she recoil? Would she say something so derisive he’d want to hide under Wrath? She did neither. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”
“Trying to take it all in,” she said. “So this place is dangerous?”
Oliver brought Wrath around to the opening of the cave. “Yes.”
“How bad? On a scale of rabbits to beresus?”
“You’d need a different scale.”
“Fantastic,” she muttered.
Aiden said, “Nice, bro. I could use a challenge.”
“What do you call the fangands?” Lauren asked him.
He grinned. “A warm up.”
Erica pulled her white gloves tighter. Sparky jumped down onto the ledge, which was much wider than the path leading to it. Erica followed suit and dismounted. “We can walk the horses to the caves. They’re pretty tired.”
Oliver smiled. “You’re really getting the hang of this calling thing.”
“Guess it doesn’t suck as much as I thought.” Her brown hair caught puddles of moonlight. She’d never been more beautiful.
Ullwen slid off his horse. “I think we’re all tired.”
Horses in hand, the five walked the few feet to the correct cave. From the outside, it looked like all the others, which was why so many overlooked it. Oliver walked inside. “About fifty yards in there’s an offshoot to the left. The dwarves used it for their horses when they carved this place up. It’ll be a little shorter than the stables these horses are used to, but it should suffice. It’s warm and dry, which is more than I can say about the outside.”
Snow fell and stuck to the black ledge.
Oliver kept moving. “Beyond is a central room with eight offshoots. The central room has a venting system, so we’ll be able to have a fire there.”
“How exactly does a cave get a venting system?” Erica asked.
“Dwarves are handy like that,” Lauren said.
Ullwen and Aiden stabled the horses while Erica followed Oliver and Lauren to the central room. The walls of the room sloped upward until it seemed as if there were no ceiling at all. What little light filtered in from outside dissipated on the black floor until it was tar dark.
As the day pushed on, the strangeness of Alrujah—Lauren wielding magic, the familiarity of riding horses, two suns crawling across the sky—became seamless, normal. Even the immensity of the cave didn’t astound him, not like it did the others.
Lauren’s eyes widened, and Erica craned her neck back. “I can’t see a thing.”
“Me either,” said Lauren.
“How about some light?” Oliver asked.
Lauren shrugged. “Don’t know. I mean, sure I throw fire, but not sure I can control the intensity or size.”
Erica said, “Give it a shot, girly. What’s the worst that can happen?”
It got quiet. Oliver strained his eyes against the dark. He imagined his nose wrinkling as he squinted. Best he could tell, Lauren held her hand in front of her as if there were a bird in it.
Lauren breathed slowly. Oliver walked a little closer, Erica by his side, and squinted a bit more. Lauren’s eyes clamped shut. Her hand started to glow until a little flame, about the size of a chicken egg, rose from her cupped palm. Shadows danced on the walls, big and black. The chicken egg flame grew to the size of an ostrich egg. Lauren had to hold it away from her body. “This thing’s hot,” she said. “I’m burning my face. Let’s get wherever we’re going quick.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow. “You’re pretty amazing, Lauren.”
Erica grabbed his elbow. “You heard the lady. Let’s hustle.”
Before long, they’d reached a small circular pit in the ground. “Careful with the flame,” Oliver said. “There’s an enchantment here that lets you have fire without wood, but I’d suggest turning the flame down a bit.”
Lauren’s hand glowed orange. She nodded and closed her eyes again. In a minute, the ostrich egg flame shrank to the size of a skink. She knelt down and waved her hand over the pit. The lizard flame jumped and swelled into a camp fire. Lauren jumped back, and Erica snickered.
“It’s not funny,” Lauren snapped. “You put your face in it and try not to jump.”
Erica pulled her gloves up and scratched Sparky behind the ear. “Relax. It was cute.”
“Cute?” Lauren’s eyes reflected the fire cruelly.
Oliver sat down cross-legged and warmed his hands by the fire. “Thanks, Lauren.” The cold of the cave retreated. His numb cheeks tingled.
Erica sat a few feet back from the fire. Sparky put his head in her lap. “Your whole magic thing is pretty awesome, I guess.”
Lauren sat on the opposite side of the fire from Oliver and Erica. She smiled. “Thanks. You don’t suck either.”
Oliver laughed. “You girls are something else.”
Ullwen and Aiden sauntered in—slightly favoring one leg or the other, Aiden’s hand on his neck, each with a grimace. Guilt stabbed Oliver. No matter how much he tried to convince himself it wasn’t his fault they’d been miraculously pulled into Alrujah, his heart disbelieved his mind.
He compiled the code, scripted the game from beginning to end, and modeled the characters after Aiden and Erica. And though they’d adjusted well, better than he expected, he knew they’d be happier back in North Chester.
Hunger gnawed at his stomach. Fatigue wearied his muscles. He remembered shouting at Lauren yesterday, and guilt punched him again. He closed his eyes, ignored the gnawing pangs of hunger, and prayed Adonai—God—would work His magic.
Magic. The thought made him smile. Lauren’s magic awed him. Erica called birds from the sky. Aiden slayed beasts as if he’d been born with a broadsword in his hand and a dagger in his teeth. Comparatively, prayer seemed pretty weak. But without his support, the others would be dead already.
“Let’s rest for tonight,” Ullwen said. He and Aiden had each brought a saddlebag with the remaining food. “We should eat and sleep. We will need our strength for tomorrow.”
“For sure,” Aiden said.
Oliver leaned back on his elbows. Adonai, he prayed, let me wake up in my own bed. Let us all get back home quickly and safely.
Chapter Fifteen
Shedoah sought to unseat Adonai from His celestial throne. His pride angered Adonai, and Adonai cast him and his wicked spirits from the seven skies to the barren earth below.
—The Book of the Ancients
BAILEY STOOD QUIETLY IN the space Detective Parker worked in. She didn’t want to call it an office. More like a lumbermill’s graveyard. Paperwork lay scattered about his desk. Seven file cabinets lined the side wall. A wall of windows separated his space from the beat cops. Parker had opened the white blinds. Two chairs sat in front of the cornice of paperwork. Relatively free of personal touches, the only thing that spoke of Parker’s life outside of the department was a row of framed sketches of a young girl, probably a daughter, lining the top of the filing cabinets.
&nbs
p; Detective Parker sat in the chair on the other side, the phone pushed against one ear, an unlit cigarette behind the other. He nodded and made agreeing noises—more grunts in the affirmative than actual words. He’d slicked his black hair back. It didn’t appear he’d shaved since last night. His peppery stubble lined his jowls. He motioned for Bailey and her mom to sit in the unoccupied chairs.
They did, and he hung up. He patted his chest with both hands and did a quick inspection of his jacket pockets, before finally finding the cigarette behind his ear. He slipped it between his lips for a second before pulling it out again. He leaned back in his chair, studied the sundry case files spilling over the sides of his desk, and said, “What the department needs is a maid.”
Or he needed to be less sloppy.
Ms. Knowles fished in her purse for a stick of watermelon gum. She handed one to Bailey and offered another to Detective Parker.
Parker busied himself reorganizing the papers into manila folders and never noticed the gum. He cleared his throat, put the cigarette behind his ear, and leaned forward. “How you guys holding up?”
“We’re fine,” Ms. Knowles said with all the conviction of a faithless minister.
Parker looked at Bailey.
“Fine, I guess,” she said.
“Right. Good as can be expected. So here’s what happens over the next few days in cases like Lauren’s. First, we get on the talk box and rustle up as many officers as we can. We get everyone’s eyes and ears going. We put notices up on electronic billboards. You’ve seen them, I’m sure. We shoot out text messages to all cell phones capable of getting emergency alerts. All of Minnesota’s going to be looking for her. We’ve got Amber Alerts in California, Minnesota, and every state in between.”
“You really think it’s him?” Ms. Knowles asked. She worked the clasp on her purse—opened, closed, opened, closed.
“It’s the best possibility we’ve got right now. But here’s the thing—we got eyes all over the place. But some other things have come to our attention. I got three more phone calls last night, all for missing teens, all the same age. Seems a little fishy to me, so I thought I’d ask all the families a quick set of questions, see if I can find any commonalities between the cases.”