by T. S. Hall
The room slowly filled with unassuming parents, waiting for their kids’ teacher to arrive. The small talk dissipated when Mr. Swan entered the classroom.
“Welcome, everyone,” Mr. Swan began, moving behind his desk to ruffle through some handouts he’d prepared for the presentation. “I’m glad you all made it. For those who don’t know, I’m Mr. Swan, your children’s history teacher. Before we begin, does anyone have any questions?”
“I’ve got one,” Milly said, raising her hand.
“All right, Milly, go ahead,” Mr. Swan answered, trying to sound surprised.
“What, exactly, are you teaching our children?”
Mr. Swan pulled his head back, shocked by the simple, ordinary, almost rude question. “Well, as I said, I teach history. Currently, we’re reading Homer’s great masterpiece, The Iliad, learning a lot about Greek culture.”
“Great!” one of the parents interjected. “I loved that story when I was in school.”
“So you’re teaching our children about Greek mythology?”
Mr. Swan hesitated, wondering what Milly was getting at. He knew how manipulative she could be. Her cunning was legendary, and he could see himself stepping into a trap, but he couldn’t just avoid her in front of all the other parents. “Yes, some class discussions focus on Greek mythology, as it does have a historical element.”
“Historical element? Mr. Swan, you know as well as I do that there is more to mythology than that. Are you suggesting you have a right to teach religious doctrine in a public school?”
Mr. Swan became tense as all eyes were on him, waiting for his response. “I believe Greek mythology has relevance to historical events,” he said, trying to get at the real truth Milly was pushing for, “and it can explain certain outcomes that have implications to modern society.”
“So does every other religion, but that doesn’t make it right to feed our children these stories just to feed their curiosity and endanger their lives!”
Some of the other parents looked skeptically at the teacher, wondering why the woman was making such brash accusations. Everyone thought Milly was crazy, but they remained seated and silent, staring awkwardly forward and feeling sympathy for Mr. Swan, who seemed innocent in their eyes; no one knew Mr. Swan and Milly had a storied past that went back decades.
Pulling at his collar, Mr. Swan could feel his blue satin tie becoming tighter. His brow became sweaty as he contemplated an exit strategy. “May I speak with you outside?” Mr. Swan asked softly.
“Most definitely. I think you should.” Milly grabbed her coat and marched into the hallway. The two squared off like two boxers in a ring. Mr. Swan shut the door on the curious group, many of whom were leaning over their desks to try and catch a glimpse through the narrow door window.
“What’s the matter with you?” Mr. Swan whispered.
“Are you kidding me?” Milly said. “You sent my kid after that stupid artifact, knowing what happened last time!”
“Don’t you realize how important that stupid artifact is?”
Milly shifted her weight in the quiet hallway and looked both ways to make sure no one was listening. “What I realize, Kurt, is that my little brother died looking for that piece of paper, and none of you even know if it exists or what it does.”
“It exists,” Mr. Swan assured her, “and when we find it, we’ll finally have a fighting chance.”
“You don’t know that,” Milly said. “It’s too dangerous, too much of a risk, and I will not let someone else die because of it.”
“You promised Ben that you would continue the search, Milly. Have you forgotten that?”
Milly’s mind burst into a memory of her younger brother dying in the deep forest. A picture of the blackened wound that had killed him was permanently imprinted in her head. His last breaths had been shallow and pained, but he’d used them to beg his older sister to continue his search. While holding his hand firmly, with Mr. Swan, May, and Sas looking on, she’d promised to grant Ben’s dying wish. Her vow to find The Eye were the last words spoken before his eyes rolled back and he faded into death.
Milly fluttered her eyelids, looking upward to stop the flood of tears that were threatening to break through the dam. “I loved Ben, but my daughter’s safety comes first. I think even her uncle would have agreed about that.”
“And what about the safety of our people? Of our world? The unsuspecting people of this world? Pretty soon, they will be at our doorsteps, whether you like it or not. As we speak, his power and influence is growing, Milly. Our days of hiding in this place are over. We must find The Eye, at all costs.” Mr. Swan hoped guilt would persuade Milly to join his cause. He had a strong sense of duty to the people of Sonora to continue the fight against those who wanted to suppress the rebellion. He was tired of hiding on Earth, hoping for someone else to win the fight. Mr. Swan was a military man in a teacher’s body, and he would do everything in his power to convince Milly to take up arms.
“The Eye is a myth, a far-fetched idea and an unhealthy obsession that ultimately got my brother killed. Even if it were real, it isn’t worth the consequences it brings. I will not trade that artifact—or anything—for the life of my daughter. She is far too important.”
“Exactly. Do you even realize how special she is? Allora is meant for greatness, but you’re holding her back.”
“Only for her own good. She doesn’t understand how dangerous our world is.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Milly I knew.”
“You have no right to judge me for the choices that I’ve made to make sure that Allora is safe.”
“And what about the others? What about the people back home? How can you just forget that a war is going on? How can you pretend it isn’t happening?” Mr. Swan could tell his words struck a chord within the woman’s hard exterior. “You took a vow to protect the innocent, remember?”
Milly pulled back like a cobra ready to strike. “Don’t you dare lecture me on the Code! Not too long ago, your own allegiance was in question, remember?” Milly struck back, taking the argument right out of him.
Mr. Swan bit his lip and stepped backward; she had stabbed at the one part of his life that pained him most.
“Don’t try to give me a lesson on my responsibilities to the order. You are only here on my good graces. If you hadn’t been my brother’s best friend, I would have thrown you out long ago. One more mention of The Eye to my daughter, and I’ll kill you myself. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Mr. Swan said, stepping back in defeat. He swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to argue more. There was no point; no argument could convince Milly to take up the quest to find the artifact. She was blinded by emotion, stubbornly clinging to the idea that they would be safe on Earth, and while he knew otherwise, he couldn’t explain the situation. Feeling he had no other choice, Mr. Swan let go and went back into the classroom.
Milly stood in the quiet hallway for a moment. The woman who always knew what to do was now rattled. Lately, she’d been second-guessing her choices, with no clear idea whether she was doing the right thing. As she drove home, her mind wandered back to the time when she’d been a warrior herself. In battle, she had known exactly what to do; life as a mother was much more difficult, especially now that Allora was becoming a woman and developing her own gifts. How is a mother supposed to keep her child safe while giving her the room to grow and develop? She wondered. How can I allow Allora to become stronger without worrying that she might die along the way?
Still in deep thought, Milly parked the car and went into her quiet home. She walked down the hallway that led to her daughters’ rooms and stopped just inches from the door. Unable to enter, she left the dark hallway.
Meanwhile, Allora lay on her bed, staring intently at the small black orb she’d pilfered from the cave. As she held it in her palm, the orb pulsated with a light, sparkling glow, as if it had a heartbeat all its own. It was cold, yet it projected small sparks from its interior. Her eyelids
became heavy, and after an hour of staring at the object, she fell fast asleep, dreaming of what the small sphere might produce and how it could be used to find the last piece of the puzzle, the last piece of The Eye that would finally bring peace to her life.
Sixteen
SKI
Allora was mesmerized by the crystal orb and couldn’t take her eyes off the mysterious, magical object. She twirled the sphere in her fingers as Katie’s Jeep drove down the long road toward school. Because of the incident at the Ape Caves, Allora had been grounded, forbidden from seeing her friends at all during winter break, so even Katie’s incessant rambling was a nice change from the boredom of her home.
“I got these awesome diamond earrings. They’re so beautiful. I think I’m gonna save them for prom though. I’m getting a white dress and—”
“Sorry to interrupt your fascinating fashion report,” Allora broke in, “but have you seen Mr. Swan lately?”
“Not since school let out,” Katie replied, then went right back to her story.
When the girls, Dax, and Tanner arrived in their first-period history class, they noticed an unfamiliar face at the front of the room.
“Where’s Mr. Swan?” Allora asked.
The old lady stopped writing her name on the board to address the four young students. “He’s been assigned to a different classroom, honey.”
Allora wasn’t very keen on being called “honey,” but she let it slide because of how old the woman was. “Why?” she asked.
“I don’t know, darlin’,” she said.
“Ugh!” Allora grunted, and stomped out of the room with her posse in tow. “What’s with old people? I am not ‘sweetie,’ ‘honey,’ or ‘darlin’. She’s not my grandmother.”
“Well, she looks old enough to be,” Katie said. “Did you see her shoes? They must have been made a hundred years ago.”
“Long break?” Tanner asked, feeling Allora’s agitation.
Allora let out a sigh. She’d been cooped up in her house for so long. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little stressed out from being stuck at my house without any answers about this thing.” She pulled the small crystal orb from her pocket. “I need to talk to Mr. Swan about it, because it’s not parchment like the other two pieces.”
“You did find it!” Dax exclaimed.
Katie rolled her eyes. “I told you we did. Why don’t you ever believe me?”
“Well, sis, it’s just that you also told me you fought off some giant bug and that Allora went lava-surfing.”
“We did!” Katie yelled.
A few other students glanced over at the group, causing them to move in closer.
“We shouldn’t be talking about this here,” Tanner stated. “Remember, it’s not safe. Let’s meet in the outer realm after school.”
Allora shoved the orb back in her pocket, and they all went their separate ways. Allora searched for Mr. Swan but couldn’t locate his new classroom. She wondered whether her mother had something to do with his reassignment.
After the last class of the day, the four friends met in the parking lot. From there, they went to Allora’s place, hiked up to the portal, and jumped through to the orchard.
“Why are you so obsessed with this Eye thing anyway?” Dax said. “It just seems to be causing more problems than solutions.”
“Halloween proved that we are hopelessly outmatched,” Allora said. “If this Eye is what Swan claims it to be, than it may give us an edge over whatever is out there.”
“She’s got a point,” Tanner agreed. “If this artifact can help us fight off those stupid creatures, we have to find it.”
“And what if one of us dies trying to find that thing?” Dax asked. He wouldn’t admit it, but the story of the caves and the peril his sister had been in didn’t sit well with him. Katie was the only family he had on Earth, and in spite of all their banter, he felt the need to protect her at all costs.
“What if one of us dies at the hands of that wraith?” Allora paused. “Or something even worse.”
“But you don’t really know anything about it,” Dax argued, “and neither does Swan. For now, all you’ve got are a couple old pieces of paper with poems on them and some cosmic-looking golf ball that you stole from a volcano.”
They all stopped talking, realizing he was right. None of them knew exactly what the artifact could do, if anything. The unknown was frightening, and the idea that their quest might prove to be trivial angered Allora and the others. They were putting their faith in an object they knew nothing about, risking their lives for possibly nothing.
“My uncle believed in the power of this thing,” Allora said. “That’s good enough for me.”
When they jumped back through the portal, they noticed the first snow of the winter season falling through the forest canopy. The meadow behind Allora’s house was covered in a thin layer of white, reminding her of a more innocent, peaceful time.
“I realize this year has been stressful for all of us,” Katie said, staring from the edge of the forest, “but I think it’s time we have a little fun. If we don’t let loose and act like normal kids once in a while, we’re all gonna go crazy, and that won’t do any good for the people of Earth or Sonora. You know what we need?”
Tanner smiled. “A ski trip!”
Allora imagined only one response from her mother. “Milly will never go for it, and you know it. She’ll say it’s far too dangerous.”
“That’s why we have to do it on a school day,” Katie said, wearing a sinister smile, “when she thinks we’re in class.”
Grinning profusely, they silently agreed upon the idea. It had been a difficult, different year for the four teens, and since the attacks, their extracurricular activities had been limited to after-school sports, a Halloween party they’d had to sneak to, and nothing else.
“Katie’s right,” Allora admitted. “We definitely need this. I don’t think anything will attack us on the downhill slalom. Besides, we won’t tell anyone where we are, right?”
“Right,” the other three said, nodding their heads in agreement.
The plan was to meet at the local grocery store in the morning before school, and each would sneak his or her ski gear out of the house and into the car the night before. Since Allora’s skis and poles were in the garage, she had to beg Bell to distract their mother, which proved to be difficult because her sister kept asking questions.
“Why?” Bell asked. “Why should I do this for you?”
“Because I said so,” Allora said, pushing her little sister toward the living room, where Milly was reading a newspaper. “Just get Mom to go outside.”
“Fine,” Bell whispered, then reluctantly complied. “But you owe me big time!”
As soon as the coast was clear, Allora went to the garage to find her skis, boots, and poles. She had to make a second trip to carry her ski clothes. As Allora was exiting the garage, she heard her mother and sister coming back into the house. She waved her arms frantically. Bell began dancing in place, giving Allora enough time to disappear around the corner. She threw her supplies out her window, just as her mother was opening her bedroom door.
“Why is your sister acting so strange?” Milly asked.
Sitting back on her bed, Allora shook her head. “No idea,” she said, unable to hide the guilt from her face.
Milly stood there for a minute, trying to figure out what her daughters were up to. When she couldn’t come up with anything, she finally gave up and slowly closed the bedroom door.
Allora exhaled and collapsed into her pillows.
* * *
The next day, Allora bid her mother goodbye after breakfast, grabbed her stuff from the side of the house, and shoved it into Katie’s car. They drove off toward the grocery store, and met the boys in the parking lot, as planned. After packing up the Bronco, they headed east.
A few miles up the road, they saw the majestic, white-capped mountain glimmering in the sunlight like an oil painting. It was a beautiful winter day, mu
ch better for skiing than for sitting in class.
It was only eight o’clock when they reached the parking lot of Timberline Lodge at the bottom of the mountain. The girls dressed in their ski clothes while the boys went to get passes for everyone. Once everyone was fully equipped, the four hopped onto the chairlift and took off up the mountain.
Allora took the time to close her eyes and relax. The clean, crisp mountain breeze blew through the trees, carrying the aroma of pine. The slopes were pristine white, sparkling in the brightness of the morning sun. The trees swayed as the mountain breeze danced down the canyon below them. The swish of passing skiers echoed in the canyon, along with the rumbling of the chairlift as it passed the stands that held it up. Allora was in her own personal heaven, a blissful state of peace, and the worries of the past year seemed to melt away. All she could think about was the feel of the snow beneath her skis. Thoughts of evil creatures were replaced by the anticipation of flying down the mountain with her friends.
When they arrived, they put the support bar up and hopped off the chair. Dax wobbled and caught the front edge of Tanner’s board, sending both flying forward. The people behind them tried to ski around but couldn’t avoid the collision, and they fell over, smacking into the boys. The pileup caused the attendant to stop the chairlift. The girls stood a couple of feet away, cracking up with laughter as the boys tried to pull themselves up while still maintaining their pride. On that mountain, not even an embarrassing crash could have spoiled their mood, and Dax and Tanner just laughed along with the girls while they strapped in their back feet.
The first run felt amazing. In front of them was blue sky, and rolling white hills lined the landscape. Etched in the valleys were rivers and lakes, glistening against the rays of light. Allora felt the fresh powder beneath her skis as she cruised, side to side, along the run. The mountain was surprisingly empty for such a beautiful day, so when they made it to the bottom of the run, they didn’t have to wait in line to hop back on the chairlift.