The Serpent's Ring (Relics of Mysticus)

by H. B. Bolton

  “Great Odin! What will you do? How will you manage to retrieve it?” asked Gynge.

  “You can see why it is imperative we speak with the professor,” said Dunkle.

  “Of course, of course,” said Gynge. “I shall allow you passage.”

  “Thank you,” said Dunkle.

  “Good luck to you,” said Gynge before spinning around a few times. From a short distance away, Evan heard wood snap and split.

  Chapter Six

  TUNNELS IN TRUNKS

  A SMALL OPENING MATERIALIZED IN the base of a nearby tree. Dunkle ran over, hollering, “Follow me,” and he disappeared through the opening. Before long, the hole had grown, stretching to Evan’s height.

  “This way! This way!” Barfel shouted and bounced over, before rushing through.

  “I’m not going in there,” Claire said with a tremor in her voice.

  “Come on, Claire. I’ll be right behind you,” Evan reassured her.

  Inside the tree, the four travelers descended down a stairwell made of intricately intertwined roots. At the bottom, a larger cavern with passageways and tunnels wove and wound through a labyrinth of corridors.

  “Unbelievable,” said Claire in a hush.

  “What is this place?” Evan asked, straining to see past the glow of Dunkle’s fire-lit torch.

  “Consider this Asgard’s solution to underground travel,” Dunkle explained.

  “We’re safe down here, safe down here—not up there,” added Barfel.

  “Except we have to walk,” complained Evan. “I’m getting tired. When do we take a break?”

  “Not far now, not far now,” cheered Barfel.

  Evan and Claire followed Dunkle and Barfel through the long tunnel, illuminated by a warm golden glow. Occasionally, Dunkle allowed them to pause and admire something sculpted along the wooden walls: deer, bears, birds, and other creatures Evan didn’t recognize. He ran his fingertips along the polished wood, fascinated by patterns in the grain.

  At last, they reached a tall, narrow door. A serpent biting its tail was carved into the red wood. It was the very same image Evan had seen in Dr. Irving’s lab: the Serpent’s Ring. His insides quivered. How was he supposed to explain to Dr. Irving he didn’t mean to take the Serpent’s Ring? Now it was on its way to Aegir, and it was his fault.

  The door creaked open, and a thin man with salt-and-pepper hair poked his head out to greet them. “I wondered when you would arrive,” he said pleasantly and opened the door a little wider. “Come inside, please.”

  Evan hung his head and dragged his feet over the carved wooden threshold. He believed it was best to be as inconspicuous as possible. So he hid behind his sister. But after taking his first step onto the shiny black and white marble floor, he lifted his head a little. This place looked nothing like he expected.

  “Where did you get all of this stuff?” Claire asked, running her hand over a red leather sofa. “No offense, but I can’t imagine there’s a modern furniture store right around the corner.”

  “No, no,” said Dr. Irving in his educated sounding English accent. “The first thing you must remember while you are here is that not everything is as it seems. You will discover that I am a clever man and have my ways.”

  “It might also help that you are married to a goddess, one who happens to have spectacular taste.” A dark-haired woman with golden brown skin glided into the room. “You must be Claire and Evan. We have been expecting you.”

  “Expecting us? How could you possibly know we were coming?” Claire asked. Vor approached her and reached for her hand. The goddess flipped it over and stared at Claire’s open palm.

  “Darling girl, I know everything. I am Vor,” said Vor with her musical accent. “Hmm, interesting; you have a very mysterious past."

  Claire interjected, “I hardly think coming from the suburbs in Michigan makes for a mysterious past.”

  “Your soul runs deep; you have a very rich heritage,” said Vor.

  “I would hardly call us rich—comfortable, but definitely not rich,” said Claire.

  Vor smiled and released Claire’s hand. The goddess turned to Evan, who was trying to blend into a wall. “And hiding over there, you must be Evan. Please, do not be afraid. I know what happened was, dare I say, a mishap?”

  Nervously, Evan chewed on his lip while edging himself in her direction. He was uneasy and found it impossible to gaze into her all-knowing brown eyes.

  “I’m so sorry. Believe me, I didn’t mean to cause all of this trouble,” said Evan, looking down at the silky red fabric of Vor’s dress. It was draped around her body like Kool-Aid swirling in a glass. Her feet were bare, and he wondered if he should remove his sneakers.

  “I do believe you,” said Vor, placing her hand under his chin and lifting his head. “Now, we must sit and talk. There is much to discuss, and we have so little time.”

  “I will be just a moment with your refreshments,” said Dr. Irving, dashing for the kitchen.

  “Professor, please allow me to be of assistance,” Dunkle exclaimed and leapt across the room. He then scuttled behind Dr. Irving, speaking in that strange language of his. To Evan’s surprise, the professor nodded his head and used his hands to gesture in return. In fact, it looked as if he and Dunkle were having an intriguing conversation. Is it possible the professor actually understood the imp?

  Dr. Irving opened a large chrome refrigerator and relieved it of some food. Dunkle was right beside him, helping carry the load over to the kitchen counter. Evan couldn’t believe how flashy his surroundings were. The room consisted mostly of objects that were black and white, shiny chrome, and red. Glossy-white shelves held black, white, and red books. Instead of antique trinkets, like in the Professor’s other house, everything here was shiny and clean. Large canvases with black, white, and red paint lined the walls. Stylish black-and-white photographs appeared here and there.

  Mmmm. Aroma from fresh-baked goodies drifted toward Evan, and his mouth watered. He watched as Dr. Irving lined plates and various utensils on top of a glass platter. Evan realized he should listen more closely to Vor, but he couldn’t stop keeping tabs on what was being prepared in the kitchen.

  “Unfortunately, we cannot accompany you on your quest, and I am afraid Aegir has already given orders for his soldiers to find you,” announced Vor. “We can, however, give you guidance, and we can give you this.” Vor removed a golden chain from around her neck, and in one fluid movement, placed it over Claire’s head and around her neck.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Claire exclaimed. Her hand held tight to the locket. “The details are amazing. Look, Evan, golden flowers are wrapped around the outside. It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is very beautiful. And I suspect you shall never again see one of those,” said Vor. “It is a divining locket. It will help you find answers to your questions.”

  “Thank you,” said Claire. “But I can’t accept this.”

  Vor smiled and tilted her head, as if to examine Claire’s expression. “How extraordinary it is you would not accept my gift.”

  “I don’t mean to offend you,” Claire started, but was cut off by Vor.

  “I know. Remember, I know everything,” said Vor, gliding through the room. She reclined on an oversized red chair. “You have more need of it than I do; your task is too important. The locket will play an instrumental role in your success on this quest.”

  “How so?” asked Evan, but Vor didn’t answer right away. She just stared off into space.

  “Yes, the divining locket will play an important part … when you least expect it to,” said Vor with a smile. “Claire, remove it from your neck only at the appropriate moment. If it were to fall into the wrong hands … I dare not think it.”

  “Thank you. How do I use it?” Claire asked.

  “First, you must think about what you are about to ask. Be careful when you do this. The locket responds very specifically to questions. Ask your question aloud before opening it. Your ans
wers will come to you through images reflected on the mirror inside. You may ask to see what is happening in the present or you may wish to inquire up to fifty-eight minutes into the future.”

  “Why fifty-eight minutes?” Evan asked. “I mean, that’s a strange number.”

  “I am Vor, goddess with all knowing power. I cannot allow a simple trinket to hold more power than I have. I should say fifty-eight minutes is very generous.”

  “It’s perfect,” said Claire. “Thank you.”

  “Refreshments are in order. I am certain you will find these to be a tasty treat,” said Dr. Irving, motioning toward the six tiers of strange-looking pastries. Arranged neatly on a platter were six glasses, all shaped like inverted pyramids. Each glass held precisely three round ice cubes.

  “Professor, what are the red things in center of the ice cubes?” Evan asked.

  “Those are razzleberries,” Dr. Irving responded and sat next to Vor.

  “They are a delicacy. You will not find razzleberries like these outside Asgard,” interjected Vor, placing her hand tenderly on Dr. Irving’s leg. “I often wonder if they are not the real reason the professor stays.”

  Dr. Irving laughed with her, all the while participating in some sort of nose kiss. Evan wondered if they had forgotten they had company.

  “My goddess is quite the kidder,” said the professor, without removing his nose from hers.

  “Dear, we mustn’t be rude,” said Vor.

  “Quite right,” said Dr. Irving, and without looking away from his wife, he reached for a razzleberry-ice filled glass. From a rectangular pitcher, he poured clear, bubbling liquid into a glass. As the fluid streamed down into the first glass, it changed color. What was once clear was now pink. Dr. Irving handed the drink to Claire, who continued to stare at it.

  “Ladies, first,” said the professor, as he reached for the second glass. He continued talking about a particular razzleberry patch, remarking how grand those razzleberries were. Evan tried to listen, but couldn’t take his eyes off the second glass. The fluid was turning red! The Professor handed it over to Vor.

  “Razzleberry flavor for my sweet,” he said with a silly grin. Anxiously, Evan watched as Dr. Irving poured the third glass. The clear liquid turned orange. He handed it to Evan and then looked over at Dunkle. “I believe your favorite was mint julep.”

  “You have quite a memory,” said Dunkle, and then he slurped down his green drink.

  “Dr. Irving, what are you pouring into our glasses?” Evan asked. “I’ve never seen liquid change color like that.”

  “And I doubt you shall, outside of Sagaas,” said Dr. Irving, pouring a red-orange fluid into the fifth glass and handing it to Barfel. “This drink is called Fizzy-Whizzle. Its sweetness comes from the nectar of a special flower, found only here in Asgard. A delightful side effect is in its ability to not only change color, but in how it alters its taste to suite each person’s preference.”

  “Amazing,” Evan marveled. He then took a swig. “It tastes like orange soda!”

  “Mine tastes like cotton candy,” exclaimed Claire.

  “And I have always enjoyed the taste of grape,” said the professor, pouring a dark-purple fluid into his glass.

  “Dear, we really must attend to business,” Vor reminded. She returned her attention to Evan and Claire. “It won’t take long for Aegir to figure out how to use the Serpent’s Ring,” Vor continued, but had already lost Evan’s attention.

  Dunkle and Barfel were far more amusing, as they attacked treats with a vengeance. Their movements were so fast, they were a blur. They stuffed their faces with rainbow-colored tarts. Crumbs flew everywhere, landing across the room on a shaggy, white rug. Evan was transfixed by the spectacle and had trouble looking away.

  He reached forward and grabbed a round puffed pastry. Unlike the imps, he wasn’t going to gobble up the whole thing in one bite; he wanted to enjoy his food. After all, he wasn’t sure how long it would be before he could eat again. Besides, he felt manners were in order while in the company of a Norse goddess and an ancient professor.

  “Excuse me,” Evan interrupted. “What is this called?”

  “A Poppin-Droppin,” Vor said and continued with her tale.

  With a strange name like Poppin-Droppin, Evan wasn’t sure what to expect. The soft pastry smelled like sweet-cream butter, so he knew it must be good. He shrugged his shoulders and bit it in half. To his delight, the Poppin-Droppin’s layers flaked apart, melting in his mouth. Its center was filled with whipped chocolate, delivering the most incredible sensation Evan had ever experienced. That was until the remaining bite in his hand sprouted out another pastry, and then another and another. Poppin-Droppins multiplied, popping out and dropping down so rapidly Evan couldn’t catch them. It didn’t take long for him to realize how the Poppin-Droppins came by their name.

  Dunkle stopped devouring food long enough to say, “You must eat that particular pastry all in one bite; do not leave even a crumb. Otherwise, it will multiply and make a mess.”

  Evan stuffed Poppin-Droppins in his mouth as quickly as he could. Dunkle and Barfel helped by rapidly shoveling in bouncing pastries. Thank goodness the professor and Vor were too busy talking with Claire to pay much attention to the spectacle.

  Evan hoped Claire was listening to Vor’s advice closely, because at that moment, he was preoccupied.

  Chapter Seven

  POPPIN-DROPPIN AND TALKIN’

  “I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY THE professor didn’t keep the Serpent’s Ring with him here if it was so important?” Claire asked.

  “Long ago, it was decided that all of the great relics needed to be kept hidden and secret,” answered Dunkle, “away from the temptation of vengeful gods like Aegir and Ran. Besides, he did not leave the Serpent’s Ring unguarded. I have been watching over it since long before you were born.” He slunk down, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Oh, I have lost the ring. What have I done? What have I done?”

  This was an extremely awkward moment. Evan realized he should say something, but wasn’t sure what. A lump formed in his throat. If only he hadn’t been so curious about the professor’s secret lab.

  Thank goodness, Dr. Irving cut through the tension. “Dunkle, do not blame yourself for what Aegir has done. Why, you watched over the Serpent’s Ring successfully for more than a thousand years.”

  Evan practically dropped his Fizzy-Whizzle. “More than a thousand years? Dunkle, just how old are you?”

  “Old. Very, very old,” said Dunkle. “And feeling more so every minute that passes without the Serpent’s Ring in my care.”

  “How did you become the protector of the Serpent’s Ring in the first place?” Claire asked.

  Everyone in the room looked over at Dunkle, who sparkled with recognition. He stepped into the center of the group and began his tale, “Even today, I vividly remember the peaceful years when all the gods were friends and all shared equally the gifts of wisdom and power derived from the Mysticus Orb.”

  Evan didn’t want to interrupt but had to ask, “How long ago are we talking here?”

  “Thousands of years have passed since the gods decided to divide the world into realms. You call it Pangaea, but we immortals refer to it as the Avarice Wars. I will never forget the very first time I peered down through the sky and saw the new markings of Terra. You see, in the chaos of the Avarice Wars, the gods tore the world apart, forming new land masses called continents, divided by great bodies of water called oceans.”

  “But I thought land masses split apart because of shifting in the Earth’s tectonic plates,” said Claire.

  “That is what the gods want for you to believe,” Dr. Irving chimed.

  “Dunkle, why did the gods go to war against each other?” Evan asked.

  Dunkle sighed. “As I said, there was a time when the gods were united and shared a common purpose. There was only one realm, one religion, and one Mysticus Orb. That was until Alamaz, the immortal human, became more and more jealous of the
gods’ powers. Through a devious plan, Alamaz used clever lies and flattery to set the gods against each other. Then, when the heavens were in chaos, he tried to steal the Mysticus for himself.

  “Thankfully, a little band of creatures was able to stop Alamaz just in time. Now, he is locked away in the Dungeon of Dreadful Dreams, forever more to be guarded by his own worst nightmares.

  “The gods realized nothing like this could ever happen again, but they argued about what to do with the Mysticus Orb—where to hide it, who should watch over it. Finally, the golden and mysterious Orb did something unexpected. It rose up, spun around and around, faster and faster. It floated higher and higher, until suddenly it froze. With a blinding flash of light, it crashed thunderously down, splitting into multiple golden spheres. Each sphere rolled toward a different god or goddess and then floated upward. The small globes formed into their own unique design: a golden staff, a band in the shape of a serpent biting its own tail, a totem, and so on.

  “Each relic still held the essence of the Mysticus Orb, but each contained its own unique set of powers. The Mysticus had demonstrated its greatness and wisdom, as only it could.

  “I recall that all of the gods in attendance stood for a very long time in complete silence. Until at last, a soft voice came from under a beard resembling twilight, both lavender and midnight blue, ‘The relics must be kept as far from us as possible, until we are sure we have learned from our mistakes, repaired the damage we have done, and accepted the responsibility for our actions.’

  “For the first time in many moons, the gods agreed. And so they assigned honorary guardians, each as unique and diverse as the relics themselves, custody over each of the relics, and they were hidden around the globe.

  “There was much healing to be done both in the heavens and on Terra. As a constant reminder, above the entrance to the Celestial Atrium, the gods inscribed: