Jack Staples and the Poet's Storm

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Jack Staples and the Poet's Storm Page 15

by Mark Batterson


  “I doubt even Mrs. Dumphry understood what a good choice she made when she gave you her seat. You are wise and you are strong, and I like you very much, Arthur Greaves.” Sage leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Now, it’s past time we leave.”

  Sage left Arthur with his mouth agape and his hand on his cheek. “What was that?” he whispered.

  “That was a kiss, silly!” Aliyah giggled.

  Arthur jumped. “I know!” he said quickly. “I’ve seen a kiss before! I was just surprised, that’s all! We’d better be going.”

  When Arthur stumbled into the light of the setting sun, he saw tens of thousands of Awakened gathered in the valley.

  “How many are there?” he whispered.

  “More than sixty thousand,” Sage said. She turned. “Arthur, this is Eric. He is on the Council of Three that leads this army, and he’s the one who insisted they wait here for us.”

  A tall, shaggy-haired man with wire-rimmed spectacles offered Arthur his hand. “I’ve heard quite a few stories of the Lightning Dancer, and I’m mighty pleased to meet you, I am!”

  Arthur took Eric’s hand. “It’s good to meet you, too.”

  “I’m glad we weren’t waiting around fer nothing,” Eric said. “We’ve been sittin’ in this valley fer a week now, and I’d begun to wonder if we was being foolish, I was.”

  “I don’t understand,” Arthur said. “We didn’t know we’d be here until we arrived, and I don’t even know where here is. How could you have been waiting for us?”

  “I didn’t know who we were waiting fer,” Eric said. “But I was sure we was waiting fer someone. I felt a prompting that we should stay, and thank the Author we did! Seeing as you carry the Poet’s Coffer, you’ll be needin’ an army at yer back.”

  “What do you mean you felt a prompting?”

  “The prompting of the Author,” Eric said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  Arthur looked at Sage, his eyebrows raised.

  “For all your wisdom, I forget that your scales have only recently fallen off,” she said. “Have you ever had a feeling you couldn’t shake? Or maybe you thought you needed to do something or say something that didn’t make sense—except you just couldn’t get rid of the feeling?”

  “Yes,” Arthur said.

  “This is one of the many ways the Author speaks to us. The more we learn to listen to the Author’s voice, the clearer it becomes.”

  Arthur turned back to Eric. “So you kept an army of sixty thousand Awakened camped here because of a feeling?”

  “Thirty-one thousand Lambs, eleven thousand Healers, six thousand Shepherds, five thousand Craftsmen, three thousand Mentors, two thousand Artists, and one thousand, two hundred and forty Poets, to be exact.” Eric bowed his head. “And, yes, we were sure the Author was speaking, and though we couldn’t make sense of it, we weren’t going to move until he was moving us.”

  “Lambs, Healers, and … what were the others?”

  Sage smiled. “The Awakened have ranks just like any army. When your scales first fall off, you are a Lamb. With a little training, you become a Healer, Shepherd, Craftsman, Artist, Mentor, or Poet.”

  Arthur’s scales had fallen off nearly a year ago, and this was the first he’d heard of it. “So what does that make me?”

  Aliyah chuckled from the tent entrance. “From the stories I’ve heard, you dance when you fight. I’d say that makes you an Artist.”

  Arthur nodded. “I like the sound of that!” He turned back to Eric. “What’s this I hear about something evil coming?”

  “It’s me Soulprint. It tells me where the enemy is, it does! Right now it tells me something of the purest evil is coming from the south.” Eric turned southward. “And whatever it is, it’s sure comin’ fast. It’ll be here any minute now.”

  Arthur’s eyes scanned the southern horizon. “If you’re right, shouldn’t we be able to see it?”

  “Like I said, it be moving fast. But the Poet’s Coffer is drawin’ the Shadow Souled like Clear Eyes to an Oasis. Dark armies are coming from almost every direction. Though the closest is more than a day away.”

  “We need to get the Awakened moving,” Arthur said, “and we need to go south. Mr. Staples told me to get the coffer to the Valley of Elah. He said it was four days’ march from the Quagmire. He said that’s where we’ll find Jack and Alexia.”

  A scream sounded from somewhere in the valley. Arthur turned as many more screams erupted from the army of the Awakened. All eyes faced southward. A vast, slithering darkness rocketed across the sky, stretching the length of the horizon.

  “What is it?” Sage gripped Arthur’s hand.

  “I lived through this day once before,” Arthur said. “Elion called it the Assassin’s Shadow, though she didn’t know how he made it.” The darkness swept over them and continued past, blanketing the world. “About this time tomorrow, we will have caught up with the present.”

  Arthur turned to Eric. “I need to talk to the army. Is there a way to do it so that everyone can hear me?”

  Eric tore his eyes from the slithering darkness. “You can use a Whispering Stone if ye like,” he said as he picked up a stone from the ground and studied it a moment. “This should do the trick.” He handed Arthur the stone.

  Arthur glanced at Sage, wondering if Eric might not be fully sane.

  “Say what you need to say.” Sage smiled at him. “They will hear you.”

  When he coughed to clear his throat, the sound echoed across the valley. Sage watched with an amused look but didn’t say a word. “My name is Arthur Greaves,” his voice boomed. “And I sit on the Council of Seven, as does Sage.” Arthur realized he didn’t know her family name and blushed. “You must not fear the dark cloud. There is no darkness so great that the light cannot chase it away. We are the Awakened. We carry the light of the Author inside us. His blood flows in our veins. So do not give in to fear or worry. And do not lose heart. We will defeat this darkness!”

  The army of Awakened threw their arms high and cheered. When he saw Sage grinning at him, Arthur stepped back, feeling suddenly foolish. “What’s so funny?”

  “You told us you wouldn’t be a good Council member,” Sage said, “but I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a natural leader.”

  Arthur was almost thankful for the Assassin’s Shadow. Maybe Sage wouldn’t be able to see how red his cheeks had become.

  “Arthur Reginald Alexander Greaves, you come here right this instant!”

  Arthur gasped. His mother and father were stalking up the valley. A broadsword twice as long as Arthur was slung across his father’s back, and his mother carried two knitting needles and some yarn.

  “Mother! Father!” Arthur shouted as he ran down the valley and leaped into his father’s arms. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask the same of you,” his father said. “We’ve spent most of this past year searching for you. I can barely believe it!”

  “Oh, how we missed you,” his mother whispered. “Now what’s this about the Council of Seven? You’re far too old to have your mouth washed out with soap for telling tales, but you really ought to know better!”

  Arthur began to laugh. Soon his mother and father joined in. Before long they were laughing so hard they were crying.

  “Can you please tell everyone to stop bowing all the time? It’s embarrassing!” Jack donned another jacket. An hour earlier it had been sweltering hot, and now it was snowing outside.

  “Yes, my king. I’ll do it right away.” Wild chuckled and bowed low.

  “It’s not funny,” Jack protested. “If someone sees you do it, they’ll never stop.”

  “Why else do you think I’m doing it?” Wild said. “There’s not been much to laugh at lately, and Jack Staples turned king of the Awakened, is one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard.”

/>   Jack rolled his eyes.

  “It do be funny,” Andreal said. The giant knelt beside the fireplace, working a flint and stone. A series of sparks flew out as a small flame formed.

  “Jack”—Honi wrapped a fresh bandage around his wounded leg as he spoke—“though the Awakened have no need of a king, these former Shadow Souled seem to need one. In time they will come to understand our ways, but it may be easier for them if they have someone they can follow. The Last Battle has come, and we don’t have the time to train them properly. At the best of times, it takes months for someone to understand what it means to be Awakened. If it’s easier for them to think of you as their king, I say let them.”

  Jack shook his head. He couldn’t go anywhere without people bowing. To make things worse, the Assassin’s Shadow had come and blotted out the sky. Even without looking at it, Jack could feel the effects of the dark cloud. We rid Ballylesson of his blood, and then the Assassin’s Shadow comes. His shiver had little to do with the cold.

  They were in Jack’s family home—Wild and Honi and Andreal, who lay stretched out before the fire. Jonty Dobson stood near the entry with his eyes glued to Jack. He seemed to think of himself as Jack’s personal bodyguard. Though Jack wished Jonty would find someone else to cling to, he didn’t have the heart to tell him so. Jonty had no friends, and all of his family had chosen to follow the Assassin.

  “I wish I knew why Mrs. Dumphry needed this.” Jack ran his fingers over the small tin in his hands. When he’d opened it, he’d been surprised to find a handful of leaves and spices.

  “I never told you what happened the day my scales fell off,” Wild said.

  “No,” Jack said. He remembered the day well. Wild had dropped to the schoolhouse floor and started screaming about his eyes. “We all thought you’d gone mad. And then you were sent off to the asylum, or at least that’s what we were told.”

  “Mrs. Dumphry let that story spread so no one would ask questions. The truth is, my scales fell off because of what you are holding in your hands.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My Soulprint is different from most. I can’t summon lightning or run up walls or travel in time. What I do is far subtler. I know when someone is hiding something, as well as where they are hiding it. And if you’ve lost something, I can tell you exactly where it is.”

  “I thought your Soulprint had something to do with the bow and quarterstaff.”

  “No, I’m good with the weapons because I train hard.” Wild grinned. “On the day my scales fell off, I used my Soulprint without meaning to. I think it’s why my scales fell off. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I was sure Mrs. Dumphry had hidden something in the floorboards beneath her desk. And when she went out into the schoolyard, I found it. When I saw it, my scales fell off, and by the end of the day, Mrs. Dumphry had sent me to train in Agartha.”

  “But what is it?” Jack studied the leaves and spices.

  “I have no idea,” Wild said, “but it’s important to Mrs. Dumphry.”

  Jack glanced out the window at the slithering sky. He could feel misery radiating down. “We’ve done what we came here for,” he said. “And we’ve almost caught up with the present. Before she left us in the Great Oasis, Elion told Alexia and me that the end was near. She said the world couldn’t survive beneath the Assassin’s Shadow for more than a few days. So I suppose we’d better get to this valley Mrs. Dumphry wrote about.”

  “The Valley of Elah is on the other side of the world,” Honi said as he blew a smoke ring from his pipe. “If we leave today, we could reach it in six months, maybe less.”

  Jack whistled. “Could we use a World Portal?”

  “Perhaps,” Honi replied, “but every portal I know of is in the hands of the Shadow Souled. We would have to fight our way in.”

  “Jack, what be the chance of taking us there with yer Soulprint?” Andreal said. “Could ye no carry us the same way ye did when we went back to the circus?”

  “No.” Jack shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. You saw what happened last time. I almost killed everyone.”

  “It wasn’t your fault the circle broke,” Wild said. “It was Alexia’s.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She twisted her hands around so she could slip away. I watched her do it. I don’t know why, but I think she decided she didn’t want to come back with us.”

  Jack was still sure it was his fault. He’d just told Alexia she was his sister, and she’d been furious with him for not telling her sooner.

  “Either way, it’s too dangerous.” Jack shook his head. “There are hundreds of Awakened here. If even one of them breaks the chain—”

  “You don’t need to take everyone,” Honi said. “The whole world is fighting to survive. The Last Battle isn’t happening in just one place. There will be battles in every country, city, and town. But you need to be in the valley, and I for one plan to stand by your side.”

  “As do I,” said Wild.

  “If ye try to leave me behind, I’ll break both yer legs!” Andreal said cheerfully.

  Jonty Dobson stepped forward. “I will die for you if I must.”

  Jack met each of his friends’ eyes. “Thank you,” he said. “Your friendships mean the world to me.” He turned to Jonty and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulders. “I need someone here I can trust. You heard Honi. There will be many more battles in the days to come, and someone needs to lead these people. You are the only one who knows what they’ve been through.”

  “You really think I can?”

  “I’m sure of it. Just remember that the Awakened do not lead through strength of arm but through strength of character.”

  Tears wet Jonty’s cheeks. “You’re my very best friend.” He sniffled. “I promise I won’t let you down!”

  Chapter 20

  The Valley of Elah

  “Are you sure this is where they’re meant to be?” Josiah said in a hushed voice.

  “It looks pretty deserted to me,” Juno whispered.

  Alexia carefully laid her mother on the street as she studied the building. “This is where I told them to go. I—”

  “It took you long enough!” a voice called from the shadows.

  Alexia saw Benaiah strutting out of the adjacent building. His arms were spread wide, and he looked truly happy.

  Josiah let out a relieved sigh.

  “Your plan was good,” Benaiah said to Alexia. “I sent everyone through the World Portal. Summer and Addy didn’t like leaving without you, but someone needed to lead. It took forever to get everyone through, but the last group just left. They’re waiting for us in the Valley of Elah.”

  “They made it? The Awakened and the Clear Eyes are safely away from here?” Alexia had only half believed the plan would work.

  “Three thousand, four hundred, and thirty-two Awakened, and somewhere over seven thousand Clear Eyes. It was crazy. Lion and lamb, bear and warthog stood side by side without so much as growling at one another.”

  Alexia wrapped him in a hug. “You did brilliantly. Thank you, Benaiah.”

  “Thank you for coming back for us,” he whispered. “Now, can we get out of here, please?”

  Jack’s eyes lingered on his hometown.

  “Do you think we’ll ever come back?” Wild asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jack said. “But I hope so.” He squinted into the town square. Jonty and a number of others had gathered around something. “What are they doing?” he asked. They were all looking at something on the ground. A moment later a post was raised, and flapping at the top was a white flag with the head of a golden, roaring lion. “What is that?”

  Honi and Andreal laughed.

  “It’s a surprise they made for you,” Wild said. “As the newly crowned king of the Awakened, they wanted you to have your own flag.”

 
“Mrs. Dumphry will have my head. She’ll think I’ve become full of myself.” The crowd gathered around the flag, and all eyes turned to Jack. After a moment he shook his head irritably and raised his arms. A triumphant cheer rose from the townsfolk. The flag made him feel the fool, but if it helped give them courage … He glanced at the slithering sky and shivered. They’re going to need all the hope they can muster.

  “You all know what happened last time I tried this,” Jack said. “I need you to hold on tight, and no matter what happens, don’t let go.” He glanced upward. Somewhere high above the Assassin’s Shadow, night had fallen, yet Jack and Alexia’s stars had grown brighter. They were the only light that pierced the slithering darkness. Jack glanced at his hometown one last time before he embraced his note and the group rocketed from the hilltop, flying backward through the air.

  Jack smiled as they soared—it felt so natural to use his Soulprint now. The group began to drop, and he looked down to see that they were arriving in the midst of a battle. Even as his feet touched the ground, he unsheathed Ashandar and pivoted forward to strike an Oriax about to sink its teeth into an older man who’d fallen. Jack pulled the man to his feet, then spun around to stave off another attacking Oriax.

  “What’s happening here?” Jack asked.

  “I only just arrived myself,” the man said. “Not really even sure where we are.”

  There was no more time to talk. The Shadow Souled were everywhere. Jack ducked and swung Ashandar in an upward arc, slicing through a winged monster. From somewhere behind, he could hear Andreal’s booming laughter.

  It wasn’t just the Shadow Souled that made the battle so unnerving. The land was turning against them. Jack had to step quickly so as not to sink into the softening ground. All around him, Awakened were falling. Could we have come here only to die? His hands felt as if they were on fire as Ashandar sang to him. Jack danced among the dark servants; yet no matter how many fell, there were ten more.

  He sliced through a vine as it wrapped around his leg, then backed away, holding Ashandar high, but a mighty tree swept toward him. Spindly vines shot out to pierce the ground, propelling it forward.

 

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