by Chris Miller
“I’m sorry,” I said, “what did you just say?”
Ms. Sheppard scribbled some notes on her pad and repeated the question. “I was just asking if you agreed. I thought this time went pretty well. We made some great breakthroughs for our first session, don’t you think?”
This time? What did she mean by this time? Was I dreaming now, or was I dreaming before?
Centered on the table between us was the glass ball, uncovered and empty.
“I…how come I’m here?” I asked.
“I wanted to meet with you, remember?” Ms. Sheppard said. “Your second vision really is extraordinary though, I must say. Many of the others I’ve worked with aren’t able to let me in for quite some time. You, on the other hand, have excellent control over your vision.”
“Second vision?” I said, sheepishly.
“Yes…well, you’ve had enough for one day. We’ll pick up where we left off another time. You really should be getting home; I wouldn’t want your parents to worry about you.”
Ms. Sheppard stood promptly and motioned with her hand toward the green door that led out of her office. I stood as well, still uncertain of what was happening. Was everything I had done, everything I had seen, just a part of my so-called second vision?
“Wait a minute, did you say my parents are waiting for me?” I asked.
“Yes, they’re waiting right outside the door. Go see for yourself.”
I turned to face the door and wondered if it could really be true. Were my parents really together again? It didn’t make sense, but I longed for it to be true. I started toward the door, but a voice in my mind stopped me before I reached it.
Don’t believe it, Hunter, the voice whispered from somewhere distant. You cannot trust your vision…. The voice was familiar—the voice of the Flame—the voice of Hope. My heart quickened at the sound.
Suddenly, I noticed a coat rack in the corner of the room. Hanging on the rack was a black robe, a cloak that looked every bit like the one my stalker had worn at school. All at once it hit me. Ms. Sheppard was the stalker and the Emissary—she wasn’t a peacekeeper—she was Shadow.
I turned slowly back toward Ms. Sheppard, now keenly aware of the true danger she posed.
“What’s wrong, Hunter?” she asked. “Is there something else I can do for you?”
I said nothing in return; instead, my eyes fell on the glass ball. All at once it made sense. The ball…that was how she was controlling me; it was how she had controlled Saris and Mr. Strickland as well. I clinched my fists tightly at the thought of her deception. My hand felt as if I had just gripped my Veritas Sword but looking down, I saw that my grip was empty. I couldn’t see the hilt, but it felt as if it were there. The trouble was…which was true?
Believe, Hunter. You know which is true.
I squeezed the sword even tighter and stared into the glass ball.
“None of this is real, is it?” I questioned aloud, not letting my vision leave the ball.
“What do you mean it’s not real? Of course it’s real. Don’t let your second vision control you. It’s all in your mind…”
Looking closer, I noticed the reflection in the ball was not of this room…it was of a cave.
“No more doubts, no more lies,” I said firmly as I raised the unseen sword overhead.
“Hunter, STOP!” Ms. Sheppard pleaded, but I didn’t listen. I knew what I needed to do.
“Via, Veritas, Vita!” I shouted as I brought the sword down to crush the glass ball.
“Nooooooooooo!” Ms. Sheppard howled, but there was nothing she could do. The ball cracked and all at once the sword was visible in my hand once more. I looked up at Ms. Sheppard and surprisingly, her face began to crack with the ball. As pieces of the ball fell apart, so did Ms. Sheppard, revealing another face behind hers—the true enemy in all of it. Venator.
“You are still mine; you are still Shadow!” Venator burned with anger. “Forever Shadow…”
The room fell to pieces as the last edges of the glass ball dropped to the ground, leaving a faint sphere of scarlet light in its place. Then a powerful explosion of light hurled me and Venator through the shattered walls of the Serenity Center into the empty blackness beyond.
Chapter 28
To the Other Side of the Page
Darkness gave way to light and movement. My vision was still blurry, but the shapes of people began to form around me. There were voices calling my name.
“Hunter, are you okay?” one said.
“Talk to us, Hunter…can you hear us?”
When at last I could see again, I found I was surrounded by Trista, Sam and Rob in the garden chamber where Hope had once been.
“You’re not dead!” Trista shouted, wrapping me in a hug.
I returned the embrace and then took Sam’s hand as he helped lift me back to my feet.
“What happened to Ms. Shep….er…I mean the Emissary?”
“She was controlling you with that ball,” Trista said, “trying to get you to walk through a green door that appeared out of nowhere. I kept trying to call to you but you couldn’t hear me. When you smashed the glass ball there was an explosion and she vanished.”
I explained what I had seen and how the Emissary was Ms. Sheppard, who was really the stalker, and Venator, in disguise.
“What about you guys?” I asked, looking to Rob and Sam. “What happened with the dragon?”
“I killed it,” Rob said proudly. “Expert swordsman Rob at your service.”
“That he did,” Sam added. “I would have never known there were a weak spot in her armor if he hadn’t thrown his Veritas right at it. Come to think of it, how did ya know about that?”
Rob looked slightly embarrassed, “Actually, I didn’t mean to throw the sword. It slipped, on accident.”
“Well, it’s a good thing,” Sam explained. “I would have been a gonner fer sure. That dragon was right on top of me when you caught it in the back of the head like that.”
Rob smiled at the compliment.
“Good job, Rob,” I said. “I only wish I could have saved Hope. She’s gone and so is the Flame…. We failed.”
“Nonsense,” Sam said. “We didn’t fail ’cause it wasn’t up ta us to begin with. It’s up ta the Author to work things together. Whatever his plan is, you can be sure it’s still unchanged.”
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“Only one thing to do,” Sam answered. “Wait and trust the Author will reveal what his purpose was in all of it. Come on, we better head back and share the news with Stoney. He’ll be waiting.”
We gathered our things and headed for the door. Before we stepped out into the tunnels, I looked back once more at the stone tower and the table where Hope had been kept. It was so cold and dark in here now…so hauntingly lifeless. I was going to miss her.
“Yours?” a scrawny voice called up from the ground. It was Boojum and his white snark friend. The two had apparently been abandoned when I defeated the Emissary.
“Yours, yours?” the other creature squeaked.
“No, not this time, Boojum,” I answered. “I can’t keep you…. I have to stay focused and…you wouldn’t be good for me.”
Boojum cocked his head with curiosity and stared back at me with his glowing blue eyes.
“No Boojum come?” he asked, pointing to my backpack.
“No,” I said firmly. “Goodbye, Boojum.”
I started to walk away and heard him in a weak voice say, “Bye-bye, Mine.” There was a puff of smoke and he was gone, followed by the white snark as well.
When at last I stepped into the corridor beyond the room, the others were waiting. Together we retraced our path back toward the dragon’s cave. When the exit was within site, Rob stopped in his tracks and held up his hand.
“Wait, do you hear that?” Rob asked.<
br />
“No, what is it?” Trista said.
“I don’t know. It sounds like music coming from somewhere back there.”
He turned around and pointed down an alternate tunnel that veered left when we had gone right before. It was a skinny tunnel that appeared to lead to a room lit by firelight.
“Maybe it’s the Flame,” I decided. “We should go check it out!”
“Fine by me,” Sam said, “but that tunnel looks a might bit small fer my frame…. I’ll have to wait here.”
“We’ll just take a quick look and be right back,” I said.
The three of us stumbled through the tunnel and spotted the source of the light and noise. A ray of light poured in through a large crack in the stone wall, providing a window into the other side of the wall. Rob was the first to walk up and peek through to the other side.
“Do you see that? It’s the Fair…in Destiny!” he shouted excitedly. “Amazing, I can even see the Sky Car ride right over there.” He leaned against the stone wall as he said it and vanished in an instant, leaving Trista and me to speculate what had happened to him.
“Where did he go?” Trista wondered.
“No clue,” I replied, “but I’m guessing it was the fair. Maybe this is the portal Rob found by accident years ago. That wall must be a rift between our worlds—a gateway back to the Veil.”
“How can you be sure?” Trista asked a little nervously.
“I can’t, but I don’t think it’s the work of the Shadow; let’s go take a closer look.”
We stepped up to where Rob had disappeared and took a look for ourselves. What we saw through the crack was clearly not what Rob had seen. There was no fair, no Sky Car of any kind. Instead, the gleaming rift displayed an image from outside our high school.
“School? What happened to the fair?” Trista asked.
“Maybe the Author has another place for us to be,” I answered. “You ready to go through the gateway?”
“Wait, shouldn’t we test it first?”
“How?”
“Throw something through and see if it makes it to the other side, okay?”
I conceded and retrieved a small rock, which I tossed through the rift. As soon as it hit the wall the rock disappeared and landed on the pavement of the school parking lot.
“Good enough for you?” I asked.
“I guess,” she replied. “We have to go back sometime; I just didn’t expect it to be now.”
I took her by the hand and leaned into the wall. Before we knew it, we were walking across the cracked pavement of the school parking lot under a stormy night sky. We had crossed over to the Veil—back home in Destiny. Trista still carried her bow on her shoulder, and I still held my Veritas Sword in my hand. I was glad to have been able to bring it with me this time.
“I wonder what day it is?” Trista asked.
The school reader board lit up with the answer.
FREE FAIR ENTRY TONIGHT!!! SHOW YOUR ID!
“Wow, it’s like we never left,” Trista noticed. The reader board lit up again, this time with the time and date.
Fri 9th-18th • 10:47 PM
“Okay, I was wrong…two hours late,” she said.
“Not bad for a weeklong vacation,” I joked.
“THAT was no vacation,” she said with a slight chuckle, “but I have to admit, I’m glad I went. I’m just not so sure why we came back here.”
She had a point. Why had we come here? I started to think about Hope again. There was something she said about the Veil, something important. What was it?
Bleep.
Trista’s cell phone chirped in my backpack. She fished it out of the front pocket and read a text message aloud.
“It’s from your sis, like an hour ago. She wants to know where we are. What should I say?”
I wasn’t listening; I was staring at the reader board blankly, trying to recall what Hope had said about going back to the Veil and saving him from a fire. It didn’t make sense.
The time on the reader board changed to 10:48 p.m. Why did it sound so familiar? Suddenly, my mind shot back to the encounter with Gabby. I recalled the newspaper headline.
TEEN BOY KILLED IN SCHOOL BLAZE.
The article had mentioned the school fire was reported at 10:48 tonight—the fire Cranton died in.
“That’s it! Go back to the Veil and save him…from the fire!” I said out loud.
“You want me to say what?” Trista asked.
“No, it’s what Hope told me to do; Cranton’s in the school and he’s in trouble. There’s going to be a fire. Call 911! Get someone here now!” I started running for the doors as Trista called out after me.
“Where are you going? Are you sure there’s a fire? It doesn’t look like there’s a fire,” she replied.
Before I could reply, two of Cranton’s friends burst out of the front doors, gasping for air and stumbling down the steps. A trail of black smoke wafted out after them; then cut short as the hall doors shut behind them. Trista started dialing for help.
“Where’s Cranton?” I yelled at one of his friends as they ran off, hoping not to be caught.
I pulled on the front doors, but they had locked behind the two as they escaped. Using the hilt of my Veritas Sword, I broke the lower half of the glass door and crawled into the hall.
Smoke was swirling across the ceiling like a cloud overhead, growing thicker by the minute. I covered my mouth with my arm and headed toward what seemed to be the source. The door to the basement was swung wide open and even from the top of the stairs I could see the flickering light of flames reflecting off the walls.
“Cranton!” I yelled down. “Cranton, can you hear me?”
I thought I heard a muffled moan. I darted down the stairs toward the flames, going against every instinct in my body. The flames were coming from several toppled shelves full of cleaning solutions, all of which had spilled, mixing into a deadly concoction of chemical fuel for the fire.
Cranton was trapped under one of the shelves. The fire from the first shelf was already spreading to the base of the one that trapped him. There was a pool of blood under his head and a large gash on his forehead.
“I’m stuck,” Cranton cried out, pulling at his leg, trying to get away from the approaching flames.
“Hang on, I’m coming!” I shouted through my sleeve, which now covered my nose.
At first I tried to lift the shelf unit, but it was weighed down by the other shelves that had fallen like dominos on top of each other. It was no use, the shelves were too heavy. I raised my Veritas Sword and decided to cut him free.
“Hold still!” I shouted to Cranton as I ignited the blade and sliced through the shelf on either side of his foot.
“Here, take my hand!” I offered, reaching out to help him up.
“What are you doing here?” he said, shocked to see me and not his friends standing around him.
“I’m here to save you,” I answered. “Now take my hand!”
“I don’t need your help, I can…do it…myself,” Cranton claimed, trying to stand up but finding his ankle couldn’t hold his weight.
“Hang on, you’re hurt pretty bad. You have to let me help you.” I slung his arm over my shoulder and hoisted him to his feet.
“Let’s get out of here already!” Cranton said in a panic. Before we could move, the fire reached another mixture of chemicals and erupted in a massive explosion of flames. Bright orange tongues of fire licked the ceiling panels and started to spread through the room. Just like that the path back to the stairs was cut off by a new trail of fire.
We were trapped. The smoke that filled the room had already begun to sting my eyes. With Cranton leaning on my arm, I could no longer cover my nose to keep from inhaling the smoke. If we didn’t get out now, it would choke the breath from our lungs and we would die in the b
laze.
Then, a miracle…
“Hunter, over here,” a girl’s voice called out from across the room. I squinted and wiped the sweat from my eyes. When I spotted her at last, I could hardly believe what I saw. She stood in the middle of the flames, unscathed by the fire and entirely unafraid. Her soft face and warm brown eyes calmed my nerves instantly. I was filled with a sudden, unexplainable peace. It was Hope.
“It’s you? But how? I thought you were gone?”
“I’ve been rewritten by the Author. The seven were marked and I’ve come to rescue you, Hunter,” she said.
I could hardly believe it; Hope was alive! Then, to my surprise, she changed form. No longer was she merely standing in the flames anymore—Hope became the flames. Her flickering form danced across the floor, guiding the fire away. The flames pulled back like a curtain, revealing a narrow path to the base of the stairs.
“Go!” Hope commanded. “Now!”
With no time to lose I led the way, pulling Cranton through the flames, up the stairs and down the hall to safety. As we stumbled out the front doors of the school, I turned back to look for Hope but she was gone.
“Never alone,” her voice whispered.
Stumbling down the front steps, we were greeted by the distant sound of emergency vehicles heading our way. Help was coming. Cranton and I collapsed on the front lawn, waiting to be rescued.
“Why did you do it?” Cranton asked weakly. His face was pale and he looked as if he might pass out again. “Why did you save me? I’ve never been nice to you.”
“Because it’s what the Author would want,” I answered. “I believe he has a purpose for everyone, Cranton…even you.”
The words were heartfelt and true. My adventure in Solandria had helped me to see something different in Cranton. He wasn’t just a boy, he was somebody’s grandson. He wasn’t just my enemy, he was a person with a troubled past and his own share of pain. And, more importantly, he was in my life for a reason.
“That’s what my grandfather used to say,” he said quietly, holding back tears. “I just never believed him.”