keep him occupied. He probably doesn’t have a lot of free time to go out gallivanting,” replied Jade in a motherly tone.
Cody let out another uncontrolled laugh. “No, Jade, I mean the man has literally not been out in centuries. His skin is blindingly white. Reminded me of the time you joined my mom and me at the beach house after having spent the entire winter with your father in cloudy London. We needed sunglasses just to look your direction!” He laughed. Although he could not see Jade, he knew her cheeks were burning bright red. “But, yeah, despite being completely bonkers, Priest Stalkton is a good guy. Even though six thousand years of minimal social interaction have left him with an utter lack of tact. I feel like I’m talking to Wesley all over again!” Cody waited for Jade to laugh, but no reply came. “You okay? What are you thinking about?”
“Home,” answered Jade in a quiet, sober voice. “Don’t you miss it? Don’t you wonder about what’s going on up there while we’re down here?” Cody cringed. His cheery mood was overthrown by a sense of guilt. With all the excitement and adventure he had completely forgotten about his life back on the surface. His world had become a blur, and he couldn’t remember how many days had passed since he and Jade had fled on the train to Las Vegas, but he had no doubt that, by now, his mother would have received word of his absence. It also struck him that his disappearance would cement the accusation that he murdered Wesley; Sheriff Messiner probably had patrols all over Utah looking for him.
“I miss home, too, Jade,” he responded quietly, wondering if he had seen Havenwood for the last time, or if life could ever return to the way it was before all that had happened. “Maybe we should get some sleep. We need our energy for tomorrow evening’s trial,” responded Jade, who retired into her own room. Cody was quick to agree. Walking over to his bed he flopped limply on top and smothered his face with his pillow as the tears began to pour.
Tick . . . tick . . . tick . . . tick . . . tick. The moment Cody woke a strange scent evaded his nose. He looked around his room. It was empty. The ticking sound was coming from beyond his walls. A clock? No. Cody knew Atlantis didn’t use electricity. Jade? He pulled himself out of bed and went to the window. He could hear the peaceful snoring of Jade in steady rhythm. With Atlantis’ bizarre morning-night changes he couldn’t tell what time it was, but only a few lights still flicked in the city.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. The sound was like a knife carving away at a block of wood. Cody’s heart froze. It was not coming from out his window—it was coming from the other side of his door. Cody inched forward, grabbing The Code in his arms. The strange smell seeped under the crack and into his room. Cody pressed his ear against the wood surface. He heard a grunt as the scratching continued. Somebody was standing just outside. Cody was suddenly thankful that he had taken Stalkton’s advice and locked his door. Was it Xerx trying to get through? Had Stalkton been in earnest when he had warned him?
Cody took a deep breath. He had never been a very big kid, but Xerx was only an inch taller. By going on the offensive and opening the door, it would give him the element of surprise on his intruder. He counted in his head: Five . . . Four . . . Three . . . Two . . . One! With a war cry he swung open the door—and immediately knew he had made a horrible mistake. The strange smell had finally registered, but a moment too late. An imposing figure stood before his open door; two familiar, glowing red eyes peered directly at him.
A Treasonous Accusation
The Beast. The looming dome of its cloaked exoskeleton rose and fell steadily with its heavy breath and its two snake-like eyes illuminated with a reddish glow from under its hood. Its six talons clicked softly against the stone floor from its scale-covered, bird-like feet. Cody’s lungs emptied as he felt the heat of the creature’s dense breath.
“Fraymour!” yelled Cody instinctively. Suddenly the archway of the door burst into wild flame. The Beast let out a piercing squeal. Cody dashed to the window, “Gai da Gasme!” He looked down the ledge of his window at the distant ground below. He glanced back to the door; with another cringing squeal the Beast came gliding through the flames into the room. Cody felt beads of sweat burning down his forehead, the heat of the flames pressing against this face. The Beast lowered itself, and pounced.
Swinging out his hand, Cody swiped the wooden cup from beside his bed and aimed it toward the Beast, “Seamour!” A burst of water sprang forth from the cup like a water hose, colliding with the Beast and sending it crashing against the wall. “Gai da Gasme,” Cody muttered as he climbed onto the window ledge, The Code under his arm.
Looking across the palace wall he saw the ledge of Jade’s window balcony ten feet away. There was a clutter of noise from behind and Cody knew that the Beast was once again on its feet. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, he propelled himself out the window.
He felt a gust of wind as the Beast’s jaws clamped the empty air where he had stood. His stomach felt suspended without gravity as he soared through the air. Reaching out his hands, he tossed the Book through the window before his fingers clutched onto Jade’s ledge, sending his body slamming against the wall. He felt a burn in his hands. He was hanging helplessly by the tips of his fingers, swaying in the wind. He looked back to his own window; the Beast’s silhouette was like a giant gargoyle perched on the ledge.
“Help! Help!” Cody began yelling desperately. The Beast crouched down again, ready to jump. “Help! Help!” Cody closed his eyes. He felt a firm grip on his arms and the sensation of flying before crashing on the ground.
“Cody?”
He opened his eyes. A circle of people surrounded him. “What in heaven’s name is going on?” asked Prince Foz with a look of concern on his face.
“Indeed. Explain yourself,” questioned Kantan suspiciously.
Cody looked to the remaining person. “Jade, we need to get out of here, we’re not safe!” He attempted to push himself off the ground, but Kantan’s firm grip held him prisoner.
“Explain yourself,” Kantan demanded impatiently. There was a stampede of footsteps and Cia, Eva, and two guards appeared over him.
Cia was clothed in a long, white night gown; her usually straight hair was curled and knotted. “Brothers, what is the meaning of this?” she questioned, kneeling down beside them.
“It’s the Beast! It’s here! In my room! It attacked me. We’re not safe!” Cody yelled exasperated, squirming to break free from Kantan’s grasp.
Foz yelped, but Kantan’s grip tightened as he leaned in close. “Silence boy. You had a nightmare. Nothing more. Come here.”
Kantan pulled Cody up by his collar and led him into the hallway, the others crowding behind. “Look here; does this look like a battleground?” challenged Kantan. Cody stared at the door. There were no burn marks. Looking to the ground he realized that it was completely dry.
“It was here, I know it was. I fought it! I’m not lying!” Cody cried with a raised voice.
Cia placed her hand on his shoulder, “No one is accusing you of being a liar, Cody. You had a bad dream. After what you’ve been through we don’t blame you. But you are in the safest place in all of Under-Earth. There is absolutely no way the Beast could have gotten into the palace.”
Cody sneered. “Unless somebody let it in,” he muttered. Cia’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about, Cody? Who would ever do such a thing?”
Cody felt a jolt of pain as Kantan pinched his shoulder, but Cody was tired of being intimidated. He swatted the prince’s hand away and turned before the crowd.
“Who would do such a thing you ask? I know who did it.” The crowd held their breath intensely.
Jade anxiously stepped forward, “Cody this isn’t the time for this. We don’t have any proof for our suspicions. It was probably just a nightmare . . .”
But Cody wasn’t listening. He pointed his finger to Kantan. “Here he is!” The crowd cried out, Eva turned her head away. Jade brought her hand to her eyes and shook her head.
“Cody!” exclaimed Cia, �
�this is treachery to the throne. You had better have solid evidence to make such an outlandish claim.”
Kantan stepped forward. “Indeed, you had better think extremely carefully about what your next words are going to be,” said Kantan, the words slithering smoothly from his mouth.
Cody could feel all eyes on him. “He’s...planning to murder somebody. I heard him speak of it. And he’s been secretly meeting with the war activists. I’ve seen it myself. He’s a traitor, and now he wants to kill me and take the Book!” Silence hung in the air.
Kantan circled around Cody like a vulture eyeing up its dinner. “And what is your proof?” Cody felt a clump forming in his throat. He looked to Jade for help, but the minute their eyes met she turned her head away.
“I . . . I . . . just know,” Cody finished lamely. Kantan gave a victorious smirk. Foz ran his hand through his matted hair.
“Cody, Cody, Cody. I don’t know what has possessed you to tell such lies tonight, but Book Keeper or not, treachery is treachery. By my royal rights and medical expertise, I suggest that punishment of death be suspended, citing a disillusionary state of dream due to special circumstances. But boy,” his voice was dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, “we won’t be able to overlook this type of action again.” Prince Foz turned to crowd that had amassed. “I think it is best for all of us to forget this incident and return to our sleep.”
The crowd began to depart, casting Cody sideward glances as they passed. Cody had never felt so small. He felt his cheeks smoldering. He had been humiliated. Worst of all, Jade had left him out to dry. She had seen Kantan’s secret meeting just like he had, hadn’t she? Always too scared to break a rule or resist authority, Cody thought bitterly. Jade gave Cody an irritated look. “Why can’t you ever just listen . . .” Without another word, she slipped into her room, closing her door behind her. Cody cast a deathly glare toward her door—and that’s when he saw it.
At the bottom of the wooden door, caught in the hinges, was a small, dark purple thread. It was no dream. The Beast WAS here. It suddenly made sense. Someone is trying to cover up the evidence. Panic struck Cody. He turned to examine the now-silent hallway. The entire crowd had departed. All except one. Kantan’s conniving face glared back at him. For a moment their eyes locked. Kantan grinned, and disappeared around the corner like vapor in the wind.
The Nature of a Beast
Randilin’s face looked even more pale as he hung weakly by his chains. His unkempt beard and greasy hair had transformed him into a wild Neanderthal. Despite his horrid appearance, his swollen lips curved into a slight smirk. “You called out the prince to his own flea-picking face? Cody, I hate to admit it, but blast it all, I’m proud of you!”
“This is not a joking matter!” cried Jade sternly. “One doesn’t just accuse a prince, to his own face no less, of being a traitor and murderer, and then walk away unscarred. Kantan will retaliate. This is not what we need right now. Not with a war looming and your trial this evening.”
Randilin’s smile subsided. “Suppose you’re right . . . but it was still bloody brilliant of you, Cody.”
Jade hung her head in defeat.
Cody propped himself up against the wall in front of Randilin’s cell. “So, what is this Beast anyway? How could it possibly have made it past the guards to my room?” he asked, shuttering at the memory.
Randilin’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he inhaled a heavy breath. “To be honest, kids, I don’t know. Not sure there’s anyone other than perhaps King Ishmael who does. All I know is that we first got sight of it around the time of the Great War. It was like a shadow. No one ever got a good glimpse of it, or at least no one who stayed alive long enough to tell of it. It started with the priests. One by one they disappeared; some in their houses, some in the streets at night, some in the very Monastery itself. Never a trace of evidence left behind other than the mutilated victim himself. Rumors began to spread. It seemed that something was systematically hunting down the Brotherhood of Light. People began referring to it in hushed whispers as—The Hunter. All of the old order of Brotherhood Priests fell victim to its merciless hunger. All but one. A boy, the newest member of the order. His name was . . .”
“Lamgorious Stalkton,” finished Cody. “How did he survive when none other could?” he asked eagerly.
“That’s the thing. Nobody knows. All I know is that Stalkton lived. And after the Great War no one saw the Beast ever again. Centuries passed and The Hunter became a myth, a ghost story even. That is, until now. Did you know that before he was murdered by the Hunter, Wesley sent me a message attached to the leg of a hawk?”
“No, I didn’t; you’ve never mentioned it,” Cody answered in surprise.
Randilin continued, “Oh yes, that old man was crafty as they come. He knew he was in danger. I received the message that the Book’s location was compromised. By the time I arrived at the house, it was too late. Wesley’s body was in all four corners of the room. By the brutality of the killing, I feared the worst. But even in the face of death, Wesley was using his head. He left me a note . . .”
“Hung by a dagger to the wall,” recalled Cody, remembering his initial shock at watching the elderly Book Keeper pulling out a menacing knife. In hindsight, he realized there was so much he didn’t understand about the man. He wished he had known him more.
“That’s right, hung by a dagger. The note was brief; it simply said Cody Clemenson now holds the code of fate. The torch has been passed. Obviously, by code of fate he was tipping me off that you now possessed The Code. I knew I had to find you before The Hunter did. I began asking around the city about you. I knew you would eventually flee town, so I waited at the train station and followed you on board. I was going to join you in your compartment but that British fool, Dunstan, beat me to it. Instead I tried to round you off in Las Vegas, and now here we are. All cheerfully awaiting my death sentence.”
“Don’t worry, Randilin. I’m sure the trial will go okay. As you’ve just told us, you’ve done more than your part in keeping the Book safe,” said Jade with more confidence than she felt.
Randilin smiled. “Thanks, kid. Don’t worry about me. Men like me are destined to depart the world with a noose around our necks. But kids like you two give me faith that hope in this world is not an extinct reality.”
Cody’s knuckles were still white as he passed through the large wooden doors of the Monastery. Atlantis possessed the power to create the universe, so why was it that he still had to put his life at risk every time he rode that flimsy elevator to the Monastery thought Cody bitterly. “Heads up!” came a shout from above and Cody quickly dropped to the floor. A large rock whizzed over his head and skidded across the ground. Cody tucked his head into his body and rolled over. Xerx was on the first balcony. “Oops! Guess my aim was a bit off. I wouldn’t want to be sending boulders at the high and mighty Book Keeper now would I? He might send them flying back . . . oh, wait, he doesn’t know how to. I guess merely being a keeper of the Book doesn’t do squat for your knowledge of what’s inside. Pity.” Xerx gave a mocking smirk. Cody bit his lip; he didn’t have time for petty mind games.
Entering into the training room Cody found it exactly as it had been before. Stalkton’s back once again faced Cody as the elder man muttered away. Cody sat down cross-legged on the floor. “Master, I’m here to continue expanding my knowledge of the Orb under your guidance.” The pale man turned around slowly. “Now, that’s more like it. Oh, my heavens! What a hideous zit you have on your nose, frightening almost. It’s like a mountain was dropped onto the prairies,” exclaimed Stalkton, leaning forward curiously to examine Cody’s nose.
Cody pulled his head away. “Sir, we don’t have much time. I am participating in Randilin’s trial this evening.”
“Randilin . . . the funny midget of a man? So, he has returned at last,” said Stalkton thoughtfully.
Cody inched himself closer to his teacher. “What do you know about him, Sir? About Randilin?”
> Stalkton took notice of his pupil’s anticipation. He paused and collected his thoughts for a moment before answering “Randilin is a prime example of humanity’s curse; an example that even the greatest men have a darkness in them, buried deep inside. But enough of this, you are here to learn. I want you to practice the word byrae . . . oh, and you might want to hold onto something.”
Cody shrugged disappointedly at the change of topic, but obeyed. “Byrae,” he stammered half-heartedly. A howling whistle came from the dome ceiling. Suddenly a powerful gust of wind billowed down from the roof like a waterfall and collided with Cody, sending him flying against the wall, and pinning him two feet in the air. He tried to raise his head, but the force of the wind held it tight.
“End the creation. Remember the words!” called Stalkton from the other end of the room in a mixture of worry and amusement.
Cody struggled to open his mouth against the wind. “Gai di gasme!” The wind died immediately, sending Cody crashing to the floor with a thud. He pushed himself back to his feet. “You’re a cruel man, Stalkton, you do know that.”
Stalkton gave a breathy laugh. “To be quite frank, I had forgotten the joys of new pupils. So much fun,” he said giddily.
Cody rubbed his sore hip. “Master Stalkton, so far, these words you’ve been teaching me. I can’t help but notice that they all involve creating or controlling the elements. Isn’t there more? I mean, can’t the Orb’s power be used to create tangible, material objects?” he asked, still clutching his bruised side.
The old man’s hazy eyes widened. “Oh, yes. The Orb is limitless. The vast depths of your creative mind would only flirt with the surface of its capability. You see, our creativity is merely a mirror of that which already exists. You can create water, fire, and wind. But are you really creating them? Or are you merely mimicking the reality that you already know? If you create a rose, are you inventing a rose? Of course not, you are merely creating a reflection of the beautiful rose you previously beheld in the garden. Regardless of how far your ability reaches, you must remember that you will always be incapable of being anything more than an imitator, never an inventor. Do you follow? ”
Legend of the Book Keeper Page 19