The Winter War, epub

by Priscilla Shirer

  Follow me.

  Evan ran toward the bird. He suddenly found his path quite easy; the branches were no longer scraping his face, the roots no longer tripping him up. As soon as he reached the bird, it took off again, swerving and dipping around the branches. Evan sprinted to keep up.

  Finally, he came to a small clearing. The bird was nowhere in sight. A stream ran through the clearing, and the Crest flickered faintly on the surface of the water. He’d found it! The Water! He tried to jump into the stream, but found his feet were stuck, as if his sneakers were frozen to the ground. Instantly the cold descended upon him, its icy fingers crawling up his shoulders and encircling his neck. His sneakers wouldn’t move.

  Desperately, he bent down and undid his laces. And then he jumped straight out of his sneakers, landing with a splash in the Water.

  CHAPTER 9

  Difficult Gifts

  That was a close one.”

  The words were out of Evan’s mouth before he even realized where he was. Usually, after coming through the Water, the Prince Warriors arrived in the Cave, where Ruwach would meet them and give them instructions from The Book, which had been written by the Source of all life, all truth, and all wisdom.

  But Evan wasn’t in the Cave this time. He was in the Garden of Red. That was pretty strange all by itself.

  Then he saw that Brianna and Manuel were also in the Garden. They were wearing their armor as he was, but without their helmets and swords. From the looks on their faces, he assumed they’d been through the same terrifying experience he had.

  “That was the worst,” said Brianna, still breathless from the experience. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

  “Me neither,” Manuel added, his voice raspy.

  “The forest?” said Evan.

  Brianna and Manuel both nodded.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there,” Evan confessed. “If it weren’t for that bird—”

  “You saw the bird too?” asked Manuel.

  Evan nodded.

  “I did too,” said Brianna. “But then it disappeared. I thought I’d gone the wrong way. And my feet froze to the ground—”

  “Mine too!” said Evan. “I had to jump out of my shoes!”

  “So did I,” said Manuel.

  “But I didn’t see either of you guys there,” said Evan. “How could we have been in the same place and not seen each other?”

  “Beats me,” said Brianna. “But anything can happen in Ahoratos.”

  Evan spun around. “Did you hear that?” He peered up into the branches of a tree behind him.

  “Maybe it was just the wind,” Brianna said, her voice quivering a little.

  “What wind? There’s no wind here,” said Manuel.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Brianna said.

  “Warriors.” The three kids jumped at the voice. They turned to see Ruwach striding toward them down the garden path. His face, as usual, was invisible inside the hood, but his voice was lighter than it had been the last time. Not nearly as ominous. “You are wondering why I called you here. Only you three.”

  “Sort of,” said Evan.

  “I have something for each of you. Follow me.”

  The three children followed Ruwach down a new path, to a part of the Garden none of them had seen before. It looked just as dead and barren as the rest.

  Ruwach stopped suddenly, reached down, and picked up a smooth gray rock. He handed it to Evan.

  “This is for you.”

  “A . . . rock?” Evan stared at the gift, mystified. It looked like a plain old rock, but it fit perfectly in his palm and felt comfortingly warm. “For me? Wow, you shouldn’t have.”

  The other two kids chuckled a little, but Ruwach did not make a sound. Evan cleared his throat and tried again.

  “Uh . . . thanks. I guess. What’s it for?”

  “It is a Stone of Remembrance.”

  “Okay . . . so . . . what am I supposed to remember?”

  “Me.”

  “You?”

  The hood nodded slightly.

  “That’s it? I mean, I don’t think I actually need a rock to help me remember you. You’re pretty . . . memorable.”

  “Keep it, all the same,” said Ruwach. “You may take your gift back to your world with you, just as Xavier did with his gift. Don’t lose it.” Evan saw Ruwach’s hood focused on him. Evan swallowed. He had once thrown away a gift that Ruwach had given him. He would never do that again.

  “I won’t,” he said.

  Ruwach turned away and continued quickly down yet another path. The kids were beginning to realize that the Garden was a lot bigger than they’d thought. They came upon a small pool of water. The water was so clear and still that it reflected everything above it perfectly, like a mirror.

  “At least it’s not frozen,” said Evan.

  Ruwach put one of his shining hands into the water, which trembled at his touch. He pulled something out and turned to Manuel.

  “Hold out your hands.”

  Manuel did, and Ruwach placed a wet, brownish lump into them. It looked like a small, misshapen potato. Manuel looked from the lump to Ruwach, his eyes narrowing.

  “A flower bulb?” he said.

  Ruwach nodded.

  “It looks a bit like a water-lily bulb.”

  “Exactly,” said Ruwach.

  He swiftly turned and started moving again, gliding over the dirt path as if his feet never touched the ground. As if he had no feet at all. The three kids scrambled to keep up. They were getting tired when Ruwach finally stopped again, under a large tree. He bent down and picked up one of the stringy, tangled roots that stuck up from the ground. He snapped it off and gave it to Brianna, who looked at it with disappointment etched on her face.

  “A . . . root?”

  “That’s almost as nice as a rock,” Evan said under his breath.

  “These gifts mean something unique to each of you,” Ruwach said. “You will soon discover that meaning, if you are patient, and you listen carefully.”

  “But what about the others?” said Brianna. “Levi and Xavier and Ivy and Finn?”

  “Do not concern yourself with the gifts of others.”

  A light fell upon them as if from a distant star. The children turned to see a soft glow at the very end of the Garden, which grew larger and larger until it took on a shape they recognized.

  The Book.

  The Book of the Source, speeding toward them on its golden pedestal. It stopped just before it was about to crash into them, hovering for a moment before gently setting itself down on the ground. The golden cover projected the image of the Crest of Ahoratos, which rotated slowly in midair. The Book opened, and the pages began to turn, making a soft, tinkling music that appeared as tiny spangles of light in the air. Then the pages stopped turning, and words floated up from the page, forming themselves into a sentence.

  You have not been given fear but power.

  “So these things have power?” Manuel asked, gazing down at his innocent-looking water-lily bulb.

  Evan looked down at the dirty rock in his hand, wondering how it could be powerful. The worst it could do was break a window if he threw it hard enough. And the flower bulb and root seemed equally un-powerful. Yet he knew that the tiny seeds they’d been given before from this very Garden had grown into mighty shields when they had raised them up in their fists. Evan gripped the rock and raised his arm in the air to see if the rock would do something.

  It didn’t.

  “Are we going on a mission now?” he asked.

  “The time is not yet,” Ruwach said.

  “But we only have forty days right?” said Manuel. “Or, technically, thirty-six days.”

  “The time is not yet,” Ruwach said again.

  “Ru,” said B
rianna, “I just found out that Mr. J. Ar . . . is in the hospital. Is he sick? Can you make him better?”

  “What’s wrong with Mr. J. Ar?” said Evan, alarmed.

  “I don’t know. He had surgery.”

  “Surgery? Maybe it was just something easy to fix, like an . . . apple-deckamy,” said Evan.

  “Appendectomy,” Manuel corrected. He frowned. “If it was something like that, Levi would have told us.” He turned toward Ruwach and said in a soft, trembling voice, “Is Mr. J. Ar really sick? Like . . . my mom was?”

  Ruwach was silent for a moment. “James will fulfill his mission,” he said finally, in a voice so faint the Warriors almost missed it. “As will all who serve the Source with whole hearts.”

  Evan’s brow furrowed, and he scrunched up his nose, displeased with how vague Ruwach seemed to be at the moment. “When can we see him?” Evan asked, impatiently. “The Source, I mean. Why can’t we see him in person?”

  Ruwach’s hooded head nodded slightly. “You already have.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The Big Stick

  Xavier stared at the stick.

  It was leaning up against his dresser in the corner, where it had been since he’d gotten back from Ahoratos. He’d been staring at it for three days now, as snow continued to pile up outside. School would probably be cancelled for a week. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand it, sitting in his room, doing nothing but trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with the “gift” Ruwach had given him.

  He wondered if this was his punishment for messing things up in the battle. Like he should be using the stick to beat himself up. But that didn’t make a whole lot of sense. For one thing, he couldn’t easily hit himself with a stick this long. And he doubted that Ruwach would want him to.

  So what do you do with a big stick?

  He remembered a quote from Teddy Roosevelt he’d learned in history class: “Speak softly and carry a big stick.” Roosevelt meant that the big stick was used to threaten people. You didn’t have to yell when you had a big stick in your hand. But that didn’t seem right either. Ruwach never taught the Prince Warriors to threaten others. Yet it could be some kind of weapon. He’d seen martial arts experts who fought with sticks, and that had seemed pretty cool. But the Krÿsen had completed their armor. They didn’t need any more weapons.

  He wished Rook were here to talk to. Rook had always had a word of wisdom or encouragement to offer, even if he didn’t have all the answers. Rook had saved Xavier’s life and given his own in the process. Xavier still felt a pang of regret when he thought of that. If only he had been paying attention when that dragon was coming for him, then Rook might still be alive.

  And then . . . this last battle. If Rook had been with him, he would have told Xavier to stay where he was, to not try to advance over the bridge, and Xavier would have listened. Or if Mr. J. Ar had been there . . . but neither of them were. Rook was gone, and Mr. J. Ar—where was Mr. J. Ar anyway? Xavier hadn’t seen him in quite a while.

  He reached into his pocket for his phone but realized he didn’t have it. He must have left it on the kitchen table. He got up and opened his door, hoping Evan wasn’t there to ambush him. Evan had wanted to go outside and build a snow castle or have a snowball war, and Xavier was trying to avoid him.

  Evan wasn’t there. He wasn’t in his room either. Xavier relaxed, thinking maybe his little brother had gone to hang out at Manuel’s house. He went downstairs.

  His dad was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper, a cup of coffee in front of him. The phone was still there too. Xavier went over to pick it up. He was going to leave when his dad spoke.

  “Don’t even want to say hello?”

  Xavier turned back. “Sorry. Just needed my phone.”

  “Sit down, Xavier.” Mr. Blake folded up his newspaper. Xavier groaned inwardly. He knew he was in for some sort of talk. He sat down opposite his father, fingering the phone, trying not to look at it.

  “Tough day?” said his dad.

  “Nah. Just bored.”

  “That’s not like you. Sure you’re all right?”

  “Sure.” Xavier tried to smile. “Everything’s cool.”

  Mr. Blake peered at him a moment longer. “Okay then. But if you ever need to talk, you know I’m here, right?”

  “Sure. Thanks, Dad.” Xavier got up to leave and then turned back. “Hey, Dad?”

  “Yes?”

  “What do you do when . . . when you make a big mistake, and you don’t know how to fix it?”

  “Hmmm. Tough question.” Mr. Blake sat back in his chair, thinking. “You have two choices. You can learn from it, move forward, and make sure you don’t do it again. Or you can let it eat at you until you are unable to move forward at all.” He paused. “Which one are you doing?”

  “The second one, I think.”

  Mr. Blake nodded slightly. “I’ve been there. My dad used to tell me: ‘Don’t look back, unless you plan on going there.’”

  “Right,” said Xavier. “But . . . it’s hard.”

  “Yes, it is. But you can do it, Xavier. I’m sure of that.”

  Xavier thanked his dad and went back to his room. He put the stick in the closet and shut the door so he wouldn’t have to look at it again. Then he lay down on the bed and turned on his phone.

  There was a message from Brianna.

  Mr. J. Ar in hospital!!!

  Xavier felt his heart sink farther into his chest, so he could barely breathe. Next to his dad, Mr. J. Ar was his most important role model. He hoped it wasn’t anything too serious.

  There was a knock on the door. Evan’s voice: “Can I come in?”

  For once, Xavier welcomed the idea of talking to his little brother. He needed some distraction. “Yeah,” he said.

  Evan opened the door slowly, looking around as if he expected to be hit by a pillow or have a pile of dirty laundry fall on his head.

  “What’s up?” said Xavier, trying to sound annoyed.

  “Nothing.” Evan came into the room and shut the door. He sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”

  “What smell?”

  “It smells like dad’s aftershave. Are you using aftershave?”

  Xavier sighed and rolled over on the bed. “What do you want, Evan?”

  “I was in Ahoratos.”

  Xavier rolled back and sat up. “You were?” He wondered why Evan had been called and he hadn’t. Was he no longer welcome? After what he’d done, maybe he deserved that.

  “Yeah. And . . . I got this.” Evan showed him the rock. “This was my ‘gift.’ Ruwach said it was like your stick.” He handed the rock to Xavier, who examined it carefully.

  “It’s a rock,” said Xavier.

  “I know that. Duh.”

  “Does it do anything?”

  “Not that I can see.”

  “So it is just like my stick.” Xavier gave him back the rock. “Useless gifts for useless Prince Warriors.”

  “You think we’re really useless?”

  “I don’t know anymore.” Xavier paused. “Brianna texted and said that Mr. J. Ar is in the hospital.”

  “I know. He might be really sick too. I wonder why Levi didn’t tell us.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t want it to be true. Sometimes, when you say something out loud, it becomes more real, and you have to . . . face it.”

  “I don’t want it to be true either,” said Evan. Then he told Xavier about his trip through the scary woods and the rotting smell, the thing he called the giant Empty. “Something bad is going on. It’s like the Empty is . . . taking over. Eating up Ahoratos.”

  “Yeah.” Xavier let out a deep sigh. He had thought a lot about that strange feeling in the Garden. The Empty. It was more than a feeling. It was like an—entity—a being or a thing that had
a definite presence. He didn’t want to tell Evan, but he had an idea what it might be.

  CHAPTER 11

  Ginger Girl

  Day 8

  Ivy slumped in the plastic chair outside the principal’s office, her arms folded over her chest, her knees pressed tightly together. She could hear Mrs. Loomis, the principal, talking in a loud, stern voice through the closed door. The shadowy outline of the principal loomed over the smaller one of her mother through the frosted glass of the door, making it look as though Mrs. Loomis were about to devour her. In the middle of the glass was an engraved sign: Sybil Loomis, Principal.

  Though her mother’s replies were too soft to understand, Ivy knew what she was probably saying all the same: “Don’t worry, Mrs. Loomis. I’ll talk to her. It won’t happen again.”

  Finally the door opened, and her mom came out, followed by the principal, who was possibly, at least according to the majority of the kids at the Cedar Creek Middle School, the meanest woman on the planet. She might also be the tallest. Her hair was whipped into a perfect French twist and piled high on her head with not one strand out of place. She wore a tailored green suit with a snakeskin belt. She gazed down at Ivy, her lips pursed into a disapproving line. Her black, horn-rimmed glasses reflected the light so Ivy couldn’t see her eyes at all, only wide, blank discs that silently pronounced judgment. She did not speak. She didn’t have to. Next to her, Ivy’s mom looked small and sad and beaten.

  “Come on, Ivy,” said her mom in a tired voice. “Let’s go home.”

  Ivy followed her mom out of the office without looking back at Mrs. Loomis, but she could feel the principal’s gaze boring a hole in the back of her head. They got into the car, and Ivy’s mom started driving home.

  “First day back at school after a week of snow days, and I’m called into the principal’s office,” said Ivy’s mom after a long period of silence. “What is going on with you, Ivy? You never used to do things like this.” Ivy didn’t respond. She just stared out the window at the huge piles of snow on either side of the road. Her mom heaved a sigh. “You want to tell me what happened?”