by Chris Miller
“I had hoped Gerwyn and I could offer him a safe place to grow up—that he’d find some stability with us. But then Gerwyn died and Cranton really took a turn for the worse. I tried my best to explain it to him, but he never listened to me. We’ll never know for sure, but I think all of his pent-up anger is what led to the fire.”
“Fire?” I asked.
“Yes, the school fire, remember? It was a year ago today.”
“There was a fire at school last year?”
“Sure, burned the whole school down too! I have the article right here.”
She shuffled through a pile of papers that rested beside the sofa and selected a newspaper clipping to hand to me. The headline of the Destiny Times’ front cover story read:
Troubled Teen Killed in School Blaze
The picture on the front was of Destiny High engulfed in a fierce fire. A picture of Cranton was also displayed. Below his name a question was printed: Victim OR Arson? Shockingly enough, the date of the fire was the same night we had gone to the fairgrounds.
“How is this possible?” I asked. “The fire would have happened the same night as the fair. That was the night we came back to Solandria. I can’t have been gone for a whole year already, can I?”
“Anything is possible, Hunter. As you know, the story of Solandria is not connected directly to our own timeline. The Author can do what he likes between worlds.”
“I guess,” I said nervously, “I just never expected we’d be gone this long.” My thoughts turned from the present to my mom and how awful she would be feeling to have lost me over a year ago. She must think I was dead too.
“Don’t worry yourself, Hunter,” Gabby said. “Just because you’re here now, doesn’t mean you’ll be here later.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you return to Solandria to finish what you have been called to do, a new way home will be made. You likely will return to the precise moment you left the Veil. There have only been a few instances where it has happened otherwise.”
The thought comforted me, but only a little.
“But enough of that, I’m guessing you didn’t come here to talk about my troubles,” Gabby said. “So what is it, hmm?”
“Honestly, I don’t know why I’m here.”
“That’s good,” she said sipping her tea. “I’d be worried if you thought you did. Why don’t you start by telling me about these visions you’ve been having?”
“How did you know about my visions?” I asked.
“Do you really have to ask?”
“I guess not,” I said, realizing that if she was already expecting me, she probably had been given instructions on how to help me. I started by explaining our mission to carry the Flame to the seven. As I shared the prophecy of the Consuming Fire with her and my visions of Hope asking me to release her, Gabby’s face lit up.
“So what do you think it means? Is Hope still alive?”
There was a long pause as Gabby thought about the vision. It was an odd thing to see her pass up an immediate opportunity to speak. When at last she did speak, the tone in her voice was different. Distant and focused.
“It wouldn’t surprise me at all. She is frail, of that I am sure. But as long as the Resistance is still around—no matter how weak, we can be sure she is alive. You are familiar with what happened the night the Resistance tried to move Hope to a safe location, right?”
“Yeah, Petrov told me,” I answered. “Faldyn stole her.”
“Or so we think,” Gabby corrected. “We have not seen her or him ever since. One thing is clear, whoever has her must know how important she is to the success of the Codebearers’ survival. There would be no other reason to abduct her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hope isn’t like the rest of us, Hunter. She’s a virtuess.”
“Virtuess?”
“Yes, a gift from the Author. She came with the promise that one day she would become something more, something wonderful. An eternal flame in the hearts of all who are called.”
“So do you think she’s one of the seven? The ember of hope?”
“Yes, I do.”
This was good news. If Hope was one of the seven, I would see her again soon.
“But there is something more to your visions.”
“How so?”
“In any of your dreams have you ever been able to save her?”
“No, I haven’t,” I said, suddenly losing my excitement. I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but I didn’t like to think about it.
“I see,” she said after a long pause. “What happens if you don’t try and save her?”
“Are you serious?” I blurted out the moment she said it. “If Hope’s alive, I have to find a way to save her!”
“That’s exactly my point! You are letting your emotions get in the way of doing what is right.”
“Huh?” I said, bewildered.
“Let me put it this way, what is it that you feel for Hope?”
She couldn’t have posed a more difficult question. My feelings for Hope were a tangled mess of complicated emotions. It seemed impossible to unravel one feeling from another—she was all of them combined, and all mixed up.
“I really like her,” I started to say, knowing all the words fell short of my true emotions. There was more to it than just that so I continued. “For starters, she always encouraged and inspired me to want to be a better person. When she was with me, I felt like I had a true friend, someone I could really trust.”
“Hope has a way of doing that,” Gabby said.
“Yeah, and I feel like it is my fault that she’s gone, you know? If she really is alive somewhere, I want to set things right, to bring her back.”
“Did you ever consider that your desire to bring her back might be for your own selfish reasons? That maybe you could be keeping her from becoming something more—something that is greater than we can possibly imagine.”
“Why do you say that?”
“In your visions, Hope keeps asking you to release her. She loved you, Hunter, even more than you love her. But until you allow her to go, her purpose will not be complete. You will have to choose between saving her for your own selfish motives or releasing her into the Author’s hands.”
“But I can’t just stand by and watch her die! What good could possibly come of it? I don’t understand.”
“When the time is right, you will,” Gabby chuckled and added, “soon enough.”
Her words were like an irritating riddle. How was I supposed to watch Hope be killed at the hands of a madman like Xaul? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. I was angry that Gabby had even suggested it would be okay. Furthermore, if Hope was one of the seven as I believed she was, I would have to save her.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Gabby said, “I have something for you before you go.”
She motioned for me to follow her, which I did. She led me down a narrow hallway to a small closet door. Opening it, she produced a wooden box from the top shelf, which she dusted off and held in front of her.
“When Gerwyn died,” she said, opening the box and looking me straight in the eyes, “I decided to share a token of his life with as many people as I could. Of course, you left before I could give you something to remember him by. But I kept it, just in case we met again.”
The wooden lid lifted open on hinges, revealing a lining of green felt inside. She reached into the box and removed a small, square silver trinket, which she handed to me. I turned the flattened piece of metal over in my hand. On one side, a dragon was etched into the metal, and on the other a series of strange markings.
“What is it?”
“Just a trinket, really. It was a cipher for one of the training rooms in Sanctuary. Not much use now—but Gerwyn had a collection of them he used to give out as awards for his students. He and Captain Sam used to teach the young ones together, you know.”
“No, I didn’t,” I replied.
“Ye
s. They were quite the pair. Anyway, I thought you might like that one because of the dragon on it. Gerwyn would have wanted you to have it, considering the battle you shared before he died.”
“It’s perfect, thank you,” I said, keenly aware of the significance it held. “He was a brave man.”
“Yes, he was. My knight in shining armor,” she chuckled. “But he wasn’t always that way, you know. The Author changed him into the man you knew.”
“How so?”
“Well, you knew Gerwyn as a quiet hero. He served without wanting much in return and I loved him for it. But he wasn’t always that way. There was a time when all he cared about was himself and his addictions. You see, a dragon had deceived him into believing that leech blood would make him more powerful than any other person in the world.”
“Leeches?” I said, thinking immediately of Belac, the troll who had held us captive on my last trip to Solandria. He made Stretch and me leech bait because of his hunger for the leeches.
“Yes. Well, anyway, as the blood began to course through his veins, he did grow stronger and more powerful, but also more dependent on the blood to sustain his very life. To make a long story short, eventually his power turned him into a monster. One day, a group of Codebearers were passing by, and he attacked them with great fury. They managed to capture Gerwyn in his altered state.
“What did they do with him?” I asked.
“They took him to the cleansing pools of Corinin and bathed him in the healing waters, which quenched his thirst and helped to remove the poison from his body once more. When at last he was sane again, they began to teach him the truths of the Code and he committed his life to becoming a Codebearer. When they brought him back to Sanctuary, I met him, and we quickly fell in love. He was the joy of my life from that day forward.”
“Wow, that’s a cool story,” I said. “I never knew he had been through so much.”
“Yes, well, he was a good man,” she added. There was a soft smile on her face, one that was meant for Gerwyn to see. “It just goes to show, you never know who the Author will choose. You may see a monster, but there is often much more than eyes alone can see. But, enough of this; I mustn’t keep you any longer. Your friends will be needing you to return right away.”
“Oh, right,” I said, “but how do I go back?”
“Why, the Flame of course!” she answered.
Instantly, the medallion glowed again and the Flame separated from it. The golden spark floated before me, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. I tucked Gerwyn’s dragon cipher into my pocket and prepared to leave, pausing slightly before taking hold of the glowing ball of light.
“Thank you, Gabby,” I said. “You’ve been so kind!”
She nodded in return.
With that I faced the Flame and reached out to take hold. Just before I grasped the Flame, Gabby called out.
“Remember, Hunter. No matter what happens when you return, no matter how bad things seem, you are never alone!”
Chapter 20
A Battle and a Betrayal
Arriving back at the monastery, I found things were not at all as I had left them. What few items had once been in my room were now strewn about or knocked over. My backpack was emptied and Boojum was gone. Somebody was searching for something.
Xaul, I thought to myself.
Fearing the worst, I threw on my backpack and slipped out into the common room, searching the other rooms as well. Each one told a similar story. Items thrown around and the beds empty. Signs of a struggle were everywhere…something had happened. Something not good.
Where is everyone?
Just then, a wooden bowl clattered to the floor from the table in the common room.
“Who goes there!” I demanded, expecting to see Xaul appear out of the shadows. Instead, a furry head and pointy blue ears popped out from beneath the bowl. It was Boojum.
“Master safe?” he shouted excitedly.
He leaped up onto my shoulder and grabbed my neck in a soft hug.
“What happened here? Where are the others?” I asked him.
“Bad things,” Boojum squealed. “Go home!”
“I can’t go home, I need to find the others. Where are they?”
“Gone, away! Not safe.”
“How long ago did this happen, Boojum? Are they still nearby?”
He nodded emphatically.
“Come on, we need to find them and we have to hurry.”
Grabbing the hilt of my sword, I ran down the maze of hallways in search of the others with Boojum following closely behind. Rounding a bend, I found myself face to face with a half dozen Dispirits. There was no doubt about it; the Shadow were here and in numbers. I never got over how ugly Dispirits were. Their skin a slimy brown, they stood on two gangly legs and walked with hunched backs. They each had six arms, sharp claws and a long deadly tongue that could lash out of their mouths with the speed of a whip.
“There’ssss another one!” the first Dispirit hissed. “Don’t let him esssssscape!”
Immediately, the multi-limbed creatures lunged forward all at once, coming at me like a pack of hungry wolves. The sight was fearsome, but I was not afraid.
By fear a man appoints his master.
My sword ignited and I slashed through the first two with a quick spin, dissolving them into a black mist. Alarmed at the brilliance of the weapon, Boojum quickly vanished and squealed loudly.
“Liiiiiiiight!”
It was a horrific sound, but one I was prepared to ignore at least for the moment. The tongues of the remaining four Dispirits shot down the hall, spewing vile comments as they came.
“Clumssssy…”
“Worthlessss…”
“Misssguided…”
“Fool!”
Before I knew what I was doing, my training in agility kicked in. Avoid the words of lying tongues. Flipping backward, I dodged the first barrage of tongue lashings without effort. As their tongues retreated into their mouths and readied for another attack, I remembered another truth of the Code.
True power does not come from the things of man, but from the palm of the Author’s hand.
Pressing my palm forward, I watched the Dispirits fall back a step or two from the unseen force of energy the Author sent ahead of me. The effect wasn’t nearly as powerful as I had hoped, but it was more than enough to cause a small disturbance. In the split second after they felt the blast, I raised my sword and ran through their ranks, swinging wildly as I sped past.
Looking back, I saw four wisps of black mist slip away through the halls. My training had worked.
“Cool.”
The moment the sword disappeared, Boojum reappeared, looking a little worse for the wear.
“Light bad!” he said grumpily.
“I didn’t have a choice, come on, let’s go,” I said, holding my backpack open on the floor.
Boojum ran across the room and dove into the backpack where the light couldn’t bother him as much. Slinging the pack on my back once more, I ran through the halls in search of my friends, taking alternate routes or ducking into rooms whenever another group of Dispirits blocked my path. I had decided to try my best to avoid needless conflict with the Shadow, partially because I didn’t want Boojum to make too much noise, but mainly because it would only delay my quest to find where the others had gone.
As I neared the Training Round, I heard the sound of voices engaged in a heated exchange. I found a safe position just beyond one of the smaller doors that entered the Training Round and cracked it open an inch to get a better view and listened in. A large Gorewing, dressed in black armor and bearing a cruel black sword, stood in the center of the room, his wings folded back behind him. At his disposal more than a dozen Dispirits and two dozen goblins stood behind him. The Codebearers, less than twenty (and most of them children) including Rob and Trista, were gathered in front of him, disarmed and bound. I
t was less than half of our number. Where were the rest?
A fat goblin stumbled across the floor on his peg leg to deliver a message. I recognized him at once—Zeeb, Venator’s chief aide.
“General Kane, the monastery has been searched; there is no one else, no sign of the boy or the Flame.”
“Then search again, you idiot! He can’t be far.”
“Yes, my lord,” Zeeb said with a bow and scurried off.
The report angered the Gorewing, who roared with rage at the captives in front of him.
“Where…is he!”
“I already told you, we don’t know,” Philan responded with boldness. “And King Zagzabarz won’t be too happy when he hears what has been done here tonight: trespassing, destruction of property and attempted kidnapping, are all serious crimes in Torpor, with or without a signed treaty.”
Kane’s laugh was deep and frightening.
“We are here on Zagzabarz’s orders!” Kane said. “He has learned of a boy harbored in this place, who carries an illegal weapon of forbidden power. He is fearful that you intend to use it on his people to take control.”
“The boy you are looking for is not here, I’ve already told you. But as for the weapon you speak of, it is real and more powerful than you can imagine. You would be right to be afraid.”
“I’ve heard enough!”
The high chamber ceiling echoed with the power of his voice.
“Take them to Zagzabarz and tell him we have evidence of dissent among them. They will pay for their crimes.”
“You are making a grave mistake, Kane!”
“No, it is you who are mistaken, boy. The Resistance has seen its end. Now, stand down, or I will rip you apart.”
Philan didn’t move; he stood with courage before the Gorewing, and even though his hands were bound he looked as though he were at peace.
“You will not leave here alive this day, Kane. Of that you can be certain.”