Jack Staples and the Poet's Storm

by Mark Batterson

  The Shadow Souled surged past Parker, Summer, and Adeline but didn’t seem to notice the three children. Every rage-filled eye was focused on Alexia. They swarmed the five-story building faster than Alexia had imagined possible. Then Parker kicked the metal crate. The twenty birds they’d captured finally began to flutter out. “Please let it be enough,” she whispered.

  The small birds flitted into the air, and though Alexia couldn’t hear, she could see the effect of their song. The animals seemed unaffected, but humans screamed in wide-eyed terror at something only they could see. And as they ran from or battled their fears, the beasts were brought down. The dark servants began turning on each other.

  Alexia watched the madness in absolute silence. From her perch she saw thousands of prisoners fleeing the coliseum with Benaiah leading the way. The plan was simple: the prisoners would escape while the dark servants were entranced by the Myzerahls’ song. So long as the Awakened kept the wax in their ears, they would be safe.

  But as the Clear Eyes flooded from a separate entrance of the arena, they didn’t stay together like the humans, and they didn’t flee. They rounded on the shrieking dark servants. They hated the Assassin, and now that they were free, they would stay and fight, even if it meant every one of them would die.

  “No!” Alexia screamed. “You must flee!” She waved her arms frantically. The Awakened escaped with Benaiah as the Clear Eyes attacked. They leaped into the fray, biting, kicking, and clawing everything in their path.

  Alexia wanted to cry. Then the words from Mrs. Dumphry’s letter sprang to her mind. “You don’t utilize your Soulprint through control; you activate it by surrendering to it. It is not something you do but something you allow to be done through you.” The wind picked up as she watched the madness below. Alexia unclenched her fists and exhaled a long, slow breath as tension melted from her shoulders. She closed her eyes … and surrendered.

  The wind grew stronger, whipping into a gale. When she opened her eyes again, a feeling of peace washed over her. She dropped her arms, and the wind exploded away. As one, the Clear Eyes turned to stare at her.

  Thousands of visions entered her mind, and Alexia saw herself from the eyes of the animals below. She stood atop the chimney and blazed like the sun. “STAR CHILD!” The thought exploded in her mind in a resounding chorus. The image of the constellation that contained Alexia’s star, the Lion’s Eye, formed in her mind. “THE STAR CHILD HAS COME. THE FINAL HUNT BEGINS!”

  Alexia shuddered as she was bombarded with the thoughts, images, smells, and vibrations of the Clear Eyes below. For a moment she lost herself; it was all happening too quickly. Surrender. She unclenched her fists and loosened her jaw. In the space of a heartbeat, her Soulprint solidified. When she responded, it was as natural as breathing.

  I am the Star Child whom the ancient ones spoke of. Now that she was inside the animals’ minds, she understood everything. Alexia wasn’t just the Child of Prophecy the Awakened had been seeking; she was the Star Child, and the Clear Eyes had been searching for her for thousands of years.

  Alexia began to laugh. Her lion friends, Beast and Killer, and the elephant Ollie had been Clear Eyes. They had been some of her many protectors. They’d kept her safe from the Assassin and his minions. Yet until this moment, until she had fully embraced her Soulprint, none of the Clear Eyes had been sure that she was the Star Child they were waiting for. Not until she understood her role in this story did she truly become Star Child.

  “We will run together in the Final Hunt.” Alexia formed the words in her mind and then sent them out in a series of images, smells, and vibrations. “But it cannot be now, and it cannot be here. Join the Bright Ones and flee this city. I will come soon.” Bright Ones was what the Clear Eyes called the Awakened.

  “THE FINAL HUNT COMES! WE WILL JOIN WITH THE BRIGHT ONES, AND WE WILL RUN TOGETHER AS OUR ANCESTORS DID IN THE ANCIENT DAYS!” The Clear Eyes turned and galloped, ran, slithered, and flew in the direction Benaiah and the rest of the prisoners had gone.

  Alexia’s conversation with the animals had lasted only a moment, and though she still couldn’t hear anything, it was obvious the Myzerahls’ song was nearing its finish. In the streets below, dark servants were on their knees begging for mercy from the visions the birds had woven for them.

  The Assassin strode into the madness, fire raging in his eyes. Please let him be too late to stop the escaping prisoners. Alexia didn’t wait to see what he did. She ran in the direction of the palace. If she was lucky, she’d bought enough time to search the throne room and find her mother. Maybe Josiah and Juno had already found her!

  Chapter 16

  The Tale of Two Jacks

  Jack Staples chuckled to himself as he walked through the woods. The idea had come to him just a few hours earlier, but he hadn’t told a soul. He thought it would be far more fun to surprise them. He crept closer, spying on his friends from behind a tree.

  “What are we waiting for?” Wild asked. “I thought you said we’d attack at sundown.”

  The Jack from a few hours earlier smiled. “We’re waiting on someone. He should be here any minute now. We’ll go once he arrives.”

  “Who?” Honi asked. “What aren’t you telling us, Jack?”

  “He’s telling you he might have changed the plan a little,” Jack said as he stepped out from behind the tree. Wild and Andreal spun, brandishing weapons, then almost dropping them. Jonty darted behind the other Jack.

  The Jack from a few hours earlier walked over and extended a hand. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You, too!” Jack said as he shook his own hand. “You’re looking well.”

  Both Jacks turned their attention to the others, who watched in perplexed silence. The Jacks began to laugh.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Jack grinned. “But we needed help, and it was the only way I could think to get it! So I had us wait a few hours, and then I came back in time. Now I can help you fight off the Shadow Souled even while I battle the Assassin’s blood.”

  “It wasn’t just your idea,” the Jack from the past retorted. “I helped!”

  Jack grinned. The younger Jack was clearly as amused as he was.

  Honi shook his head. “And have either of you thought through the ramifications of what will happen to the Jack from now in another four hours?”

  “What do you mean?” the Jacks said in unison.

  “You are changing things from the future,” Honi said. “It’s one thing to go back and change things once you already know what happened, but now you’re changing them before they happen. What if either of you gets injured or dies in this battle?”

  Jack’s amusement melted. “I hadn’t thought about any of that.”

  “Me, either,” said the Jack from a few hours earlier.

  “There’s nothing to be done about it now, I suppose,” Honi said. “Shall we go?”

  “You still want to go?” Jack said.

  “Yeah, maybe it was a bad idea,” the other Jack said.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Honi replied. “I think it has merit. I was just wondering if you had thought it through beyond the ramifications of giving us all a scare. In truth, I think it may be a brilliant plan. Having two of you to help fight this battle may be our only hope of success. You never cease to amaze, Jack Staples.” His eyes took in both Jacks. “Neither of you do.” He chuckled.

  The band of Awakened walked toward the town, with Jonty scurrying along behind them. “Please, you have to see that there’s no way to stand against them. We need to run!”

  “Jonty Dobson”—Honi stopped—“you are no longer one of the Shadow Souled. You are a member of the Awakened, and I believe in you. Now stop this whining and embrace who you truly are.”

  “I believe in you,” Wild said.

  “You can do this, Jonty,” the younger Jack encouraged.

 
“You be my brother now,” Andreal said. “And I will be dying for ye if I must.”

  The words had a physical effect on Jonty. The schoolyard bully stood taller, and his eyes were less haunted than before. Jack didn’t wait to see what happened next. As the Jack from the past and his friends entered Ballylesson, he ran into the woods to find a safe place to watch.

  Jack walked boldly into the center of town with Honi, Andreal, Wild, and Jonty following just behind. He was no longer amused at the thought of his future self watching from the woods. What happens to me if he dies?

  None of the Awakened had bothered to dirty their faces or deaden their eyes. They weren’t trying to hide. This was Jack’s town, his and Wild’s. He glanced at Fitzpatrick’s Dry Goods Store. His mother had visited the store almost every time she came to town.

  Mrs. Walsh’s Sweet Shop was covered in shadowed blood, and every window had been smashed. Jack and Arthur used to visit the store once a week, and it was commonly known that Mrs. Walsh had the best toffee in all Ireland. His anger grew as he walked. How could they do this to my home?

  He turned to face O’flannigans and stopped. The Shadule lurking inside was bent bonelessly over a table, studying a map. A part of Jack couldn’t believe what he was doing, but another part didn’t care. He’d spent much of the past year trying to fix things that were unfixable. He’d spent most of his time running from who he was meant to be. In this moment, in this place, he would fully embrace his role in this world of light and darkness. No more running.

  “Shadule!” Jack was happy his voice didn’t waver. With all the adrenaline coursing through him, he was surprised his entire body wasn’t shaking. The Shadule peered outside. “I hope I’m not interrupting things, but I think you and I should have a chat.”

  The Shadule moved fluidly through the broken picture window out onto the street. “Who are you, boy?” it rasped.

  “My name is Jack Staples. And I am one of the Children of Prophecy.”

  The Shadule hissed. Another five Shadow Souled stepped out of O’flannigans as more gathered in the street.

  “But more than that, I am a citizen of this town, and I am here to tell you to leave Ballylesson. Leave now, and no harm will come to you.”

  The Shadule turned its milky-white eyes on Jack’s friends. When its gaze fell on Jonty, it let out a gurgling laugh.

  “This? This is your army?” Its body stretched to add a pace to its height. “Three Awakened and a slave who belongs me!” The creature’s laughter made Jack’s skin crawl. “Come here, slave!” The Shadule pointed at Jonty. “Prostrate yourself before me or die.”

  “P-please,” Jonty whimpered. “Please can we go? We shouldn’t be here! I told you we couldn’t win!”

  “Jonty Dobson does not belong to you,” Jack said. “He never did. He is one of the Awakened, and he is my friend. If you want him, you’ll have to go through me.”

  By now, more than a hundred dark servants had gathered in the street. Jack and his friends formed a circle as Jack drew Ashandar and held it high. “I claim this town for the Awakened! And I offer mercy to every dark servant here. You joined the Assassin’s army because you were offered power and glory. Yet you have become his slaves. Look at Jonty Dobson!” Jack turned and pointed at Jonty. “He is free. If you want to be free, join us. I offer forgiveness for your crimes and a life of purpose.”

  For a long moment, nothing happened. Jack could see many of the dark servants thinking through what he’d said. But then the moment was gone. “Take them,” the Shadule rasped.

  There was no more time for conversation.

  Alexia didn’t look down as she climbed the Assassin’s palace. It was fifty stories high, but thanks to her Soulprint, it took only a few minutes to reach the top. She climbed onto the throne-room balcony and spotted Juno and Josiah poking about near one of the mammoth pillars.

  “I take it you haven’t found anything yet?” she said as she entered.

  Both children spun with weapons raised.

  “Did you climb up here?” Juno lowered her whip and looped it back onto her belt.

  Josiah shouldered his quarterstaff. “What happened out there? Did they get away?”

  Alexia looked back toward the arena. “I don’t know where they are now, but they were well on their way before I left. We don’t have much time, though. The Assassin is dealing with the Myzerahls, but he’ll be coming back soon.”

  “We’ve been looking for trapdoors or hidden levers,” Juno said, “but this place is so big that a secret chamber could be anywhere.”

  Alexia nodded as her eyes scanned the walls and floor. Standing between the balcony and the throne was a colossal, golden statue of the Assassin. It was a hideous thing that stood with palms facing upward and was so large, its head disappeared into the vaulted ceiling. Only its flaming eyes were visible.

  Alexia walked to the center of the chamber and stood at the base of the throne. It was as large as a house and encrusted in diamonds and gemstones. She searched for a latch or lever as she climbed the stairs to the throne.

  When she reached the top, Alexia sat down and scanned the throne room. Mother has to be here! Her anxiety rose with each passing second. Josiah and Juno searched around another pillar as Alexia leaned heavily on the throne’s armrests.

  She wrinkled her nose. The entire city reeked of death, but the foulness seemed to be strongest here. She grabbed the armrests and leaned forward. Mrs. Dumphry’s letter said my mother was here. Could she have been mistaken? Alexia searched for anything that might be out of place. She slammed a fist into the armrest in frustration. If we don’t find her soon, the Assassin will come and— Both armrests sank downward.

  Alexia’s breath caught as the gold on the seat beneath her began to ripple. Her eyes followed the ripple as it spread down the throne. It hit the floor with a golden splash, then flowed outward. It was as if someone had thrown a stone into a lake; except rather than fading, the ripple became larger the farther it went.

  “I think I found something,” Alexia said slowly. The golden ripple grew into a wave. “Oh no!” she shouted. “Run!”

  Josiah and Juno had already seen the growing wave. They sprinted toward the statue of the Assassin, but the wave was on their heels. Juno reached it first and began to climb, but Josiah was too late. The wave of gold carried him upward, and Josiah leaped from its crest, grabbing Juno’s hand. Alexia sighed as Juno pulled Josiah to safety.

  The golden wave crashed into the wall, then flowed upward. When it hit the ceiling, it continued to grow, flowing inward. Alexia ducked low as the wave collided with itself directly above the throne, thrashing like churned water before it dissipated.

  Alexia gaped at the transformed throne room. The gaudy illusion was gone. It had become a chamber of horrors.

  Spikes, razors, spears, and halberds protruded from wall, floor, and ceiling. Piled beneath the spiked floor was something splintered and pale. “It’s bones,” Josiah said in a strangled voice.

  Alexia’s stomach churned. Between the skewers, the ground was covered in bones. Many were broken and splintered beyond recognition; many were not. Alexia shuddered. The throne—it was made entirely of bones.

  The floor was so covered in razors that it would be impossible to move without being cut to ribbons.

  “So what now?” Josiah called. “This isn’t a prison; it’s a death chamber.”

  “Alexia!” Juno gasped. Her eyes were locked on the ceiling. “Look!”

  A woman was hanging from the barbed ceiling. She was filthy, and her clothes ragged, but even so, Alexia recognized her.

  “Mother!” she cried. “Mother, it’s me! Wake up! We’ve come to rescue you!” But her mother did not stir.

  Chapter 17

  An Improbable Happening

  Jack watched from the safety of the woods as the dark servants rushed in. Yet for every enemy that
attacked, one more stayed back. The offer of mercy from the other Jack had obviously gotten their attention. Even so, the five Awakened were hopelessly outnumbered.

  Jack’s muscles began to cramp as he watched the younger Jack fight. He fought with a master’s grace as Ashandar guided his every move. I’m feeling his tiredness! Jack realized. Whatever happens to him happens to me. The thought scared him. If the Jack from the past died in battle … He decided not to think about it. He’d wasted enough time already. All right, he thought, this better work!

  Jack closed his eyes and embraced his note. It was no longer hard to hear the ring of Time; it was part of him. He flew backward, leaving the safety of the woods to appear in the center of the street barely a block away from the battle. His feet sank into the webbed darkness until he was calf-deep in the Assassin’s blood.

  He’d traveled to the heart of it, to the spot where the Assassin’s blood had first fallen. The blood attacked with a fury. Webbing clung to his legs and lurched upward. Anger and jealousy welled inside him.

  How could I call Jonty my friend? The boy had bullied him for years. That wasn’t something you just forgave. He needed to make Jonty pay. He was Jack Staples, the Child of Prophecy! I’ll show him exactly how it felt! I’ll do to him what he did to me.

  “No!” Jack said through gritted teeth. “Revenge is not justice. It was right to forgive Jonty.”

  The darkness shrieked and redoubled its attack, slithering over his shoulders and up his neck. Jack struggled to breathe as shadowed webs slipped into his mouth and down his throat. Still Jack stood his ground. The black blood ripped at his clothes and tore at his skin. Shadowed barbs pierced his eyes, but he refused to scream.

  Rage, bitterness, envy, greed, regret, and pride were a cauldron in his chest, yet Jack fought them with all his heart. The web of blood buried him in a misery beyond anything he’d imagined. It tore at his soul. Physical pain was nothing to what he was feeling now. He locked his knees and pressed his lips together. I will not scream. I will not give in!