by Amy Neftzger
Nicholas retrieved the stone basin and filled it with water. He sat down at the old wooden table and proceeded to count. Then he began scrying, starting with exploring the pantry, as Moss had suggested.
Sure enough, Newton was there, stuffing himself with cookies. Crumbs were falling everywhere around him like dust from a saw. Nicholas watched Newton throw aside an empty box and then climb the ladder to the top shelf, where the cookies were hidden. The gargoyle let go of the ladder and hovered in the air by flapping his wings as he used both of his front paws to grab two boxes of cookies.
“He’s there,” Nicholas reported to Moss, “He’s in the pantry.”
“I knew it.”
“So what do I do now?” The game appeared a little too easy if Moss was going to tell him where to look.
“You talk to him and tell him that you found him.”
“Talk to him?”
“Whisper on the surface of the water, but you have to think about being in the pantry with Newton. Think about giving him the message. You need to be present there in the pantry in order for him to hear you.”
Nicholas gave it a try, but his voice was small and garbled. All it did was make Newton jump and look over his shoulder before continuing to devour another entire package of cookies. Nicholas tried again. This time, his voice was louder, but still unrecognizable.
“It’s all in the focus,” Moss said with encouragement. “You’re getting into the pantry and impressing yourself there, but he won’t be able to hear you until you focus and become present with him.”
Nicholas tried a few more times and finally managed to tell Newton that he’d been found. Moss leaned over the scrying bowl, and Nicholas could smell his earthy scent as Moss shouted at Newton.
“Now get out of the pantry and stop eating cookies before you get fat!” Moss said sharply.
“Gargoyles don’t get fat,” Newton replied over his shoulder.
“There are fat gargoyles,” Moss said.
“They were made fat. We keep the form we were given when we’re sculpted. It’s one of the advantages of being stone.”
“Nevertheless, it’s bad form to be stealing cookies and stuffing yourself with them.”
“Please,” Newton said with disdain. “If you could eat all you wanted and never get fat, I think you’d be in the pantry with me.” Moss thought for a moment.
“That’s not the point. The point is that you’ve been found, and it’s time to find another place to hide. You have another 20 seconds.” Moss sat back down across the table and started to count. After he was done, he turned to Nicholas. “Try the pantry again.”
“What?” Nicholas asked.
“He thinks we’ll assume that he’s gone to another hiding place and won’t look there again.”
Nicholas did as he was told and, sure enough, found Newton still in the pantry, eating cookies. He focused on being present with Newton by imagining the taste of the cookies as he heard Newton chomping down on them.
“I found you,” Nicholas said. His voice was almost clear. “And Moss says to get out of the pantry and stop eating all the cookies.”
“I didn’t hear that last part,” Newton replied as he stuffed a few more cookies into his mouth.
“You heard it, all right!” Moss said loudly into the scrying bowl after he had rushed around the table again. “I mean it, Newton! This is a training exercise, and I want you to find another hiding place.”
Newton rolled his eyes and, after grabbing a few more cookies for his journey to a new hiding place, he left the pantry. Nicholas stopped scrying as soon as he saw the pantry door close. He looked up at Moss.
“If you knew where he was going, why didn’t you tell him not to go there?” Nicholas asked Moss once he had settled down again.
“I like to let him think he’s getting away with something,” Moss explained. “It keeps him from causing any real trouble. Without enough evil to fight, gargoyles can become restless and start chewing on the furniture or digging up the garden. A little mischief can ward off a ton of destruction.”
“Oh.”
“Besides, it makes the first lesson a little easier on you if you know where to look. Now that you’ve mastered your first communication, you’re ready for more challenging things.”
“Will we be doing this all day?” Nicholas asked. It was fun, but the scrying would eventually tire him out.
“Just long enough for you to need some healing from the fatigue. Then Megan will teach you to heal yourself.”
“Great,” Nicholas said with less enthusiasm than he felt. He knew it was going to be a long and exhausting day, and he was right.
The first few hours of hide and seek were somewhat fun, but after the seventh or eighth game, it had become tiresome. The only thing that kept it amusing was discovering how many hiding places Newton had for food. He kept snacks all over the castle, and Nicholas discovered a number of secret compartments and passages. Newton didn’t hide himself in these places, but whenever Nicholas found him, the gargoyle had the door to the compartment open, and he was feasting on whatever treats he’d previously hidden. Beef jerky appeared to be a favorite of Newton’s, perhaps because it stored well for long periods of time.
It was later in the afternoon when they had finished the training. Moss was satisfied with the progress Nicholas was making, but Nicholas ached all over his body. A massage, a nap or a good soak in the bathtub all sounded like great ways to spend the time before dinner.
Megan arrived, however, and had other plans.
“Sore, are you?” she asked cheerfully as she slapped Nicholas on the back. Nicholas winced as soon as the leopard’s strong paw touched him.
“Very,” he admitted. “Is there any chance you could heal me this time, and I could have this lesson a different time when I’m not feeling so tired?”
“No way!” Megan exclaimed as she sat down with a loud thump. Nicholas felt the stone floor of the castle shake for a moment.
“Could we do this after dinner, then, when I’ve had a bit of a rest and something to eat to boost my strength?”
Megan laughed.
“You kill me,” she said without disguising the amusement in her voice. “That would defeat the point!”
“What point?”
“The point of being able to heal yourself,” she said. Nicholas stared back in confusion. “If you’re in a situation where you need to heal yourself, it’s probably because there’s no one else to do it for you. Follow me here: If there’s no one else around when you get hurt, it’s very likely that you’ll be tired and exhausted from whatever injured you in the first place.”
Nicholas shook his head wearily.
“Look at this as being a worst-case-scenario training,” she said.
“I will look upon this as the worst case for the present,” Nicholas replied.
“No matter. Let’s get to work.” Megan slipped her paw into a mitten with a piece of chalk strapped to the palm. Then she proceeded to draw charts and graphs while elaborating on the origins of some of the words as she explained the theory behind being able to heal oneself. She filled two walls with chalk markings and mathematical equations.
“Are you following this?” she asked when she had completed scribbling on the second wall. Nicholas stared at all the numbers and figures as he rubbed his shoulder and neck, which were sore from leaning over the scrying bowl. “Obviously not,” Megan said to herself as she studied Nicholas' confused expression. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t be massaging until step five over here.” She used a long wooden stick to point to a small patch of writing near the top of the second wall.
“I don’t think I’m the studying type,” Nicholas said wearily. He wished his friend Jovan were with him to explain things in plain English.
“OK. Not all of us are good with the underlying proofs and schematics of healing, but you don’t really have to be in order to do it. So let’s try a few things, shall we?”
“Yes,” Nicholas eager
ly agreed. He wanted to get through the lesson and to the part where he was feeling better.
“The first thing you want to do is push aside your own needs.”
“What?”
“If you’re in a greedy state, you’re not in the proper mindset for healing.”
“It’s a bit difficult not to think about myself when I’m tired and sore,” Nicholas complained.
“And yet, it’s required. Healing is not a self-focused act, even when you’re healing yourself.”
“For the love of …”
“Of course, if you had been following my notes on the wall, you’d know that.”
Nicholas sighed. This was going to be a very long day.
“So what do I focus on?” he asked.
“Anything but you.”
Nicholas decided to give it a try. First he thought about Newton and how much the gargoyle had eaten during the day. He remembered how Newton had gone through boxes of cookies like a buzz saw through timber, and this made him laugh. However, as soon as he laughed, he felt the pain in his neck and shoulders, and he grimaced.
Nicholas took a deep breath, stretched out on the floor, and tried to clear his mind. Just as he did when he healed his burn from the fire lizard, he thought about his friends. He concentrated on Kelsey, Maggie and Roland. He wondered where they were and what they were doing. Then he wondered if he was getting good enough at scrying to see or talk with them. It would depend upon how far away they were, but he missed them and the thought of talking with them was appealing.
“Very good,” Megan said softly. “Now visualize yourself as strong and energetic. Think about yourself being as strong and healthy as the king.”
The king was a very healthy individual who never appeared weak or sick. Nicholas thought about the king’s strength and especially his regal bearing. Even if he was sick, no one would know because he carried himself with confidence at all times. As soon as Nicholas thought about the possibility that the king could potentially become ill without anyone knowing, he felt the pain in his body returning. He hadn’t noticed that it was leaving his body, but as it returned, he felt it more than ever. His arms and legs felt heavy also. He became more exhausted than when he had completed his training with Moss.
“You’re thinking about yourself again,” Megan gently scolded. “Think about something else to refocus your mind. Then concentrate on something strong. It doesn’t have to be the king. It can be anything that gives you strength.”
In his mind, Nicholas visualized his friends again, and then his mind wandered to Jovan. He thought about his friend and how clever he was, and how much Nicholas admired him for his ability to learn. Nicholas thought about the strength of Jovan’s character and all the good things they had experienced together. They had gone through some difficult times, too, but Nicholas thought about how they had supported each other and come through the hard times successfully.
Before he knew it, an hour had gone by, and Megan roused him.
“That’s enough for one day. How do you feel?”
Nicholas sat up and rubbed his neck. He felt less tired and sore, but the pain and fatigue were still there.
“The pain isn’t gone,” he said.
“Of course it’s not gone. You didn’t think you could do it all in one lesson, did you?”
“Well,” Nicholas hesitated to continue because that’s exactly what he did think.
“But you do feel a little better, right?” Megan asked. Once Nicholas nodded, the leopard took a step forward and licked Nicholas across the top of his head. As Megan’s saliva oozed over his hair and trickled down the sides of his cheeks he felt a tingling sensation come over him in a wave. It was as if someone had breathed a cold breath into him and invigorated his lungs and body. His body stopped hurting, and he felt more energetic than when he had first woken up in the morning.
“That’s amazing,” Nicholas said as he came out of the daze of good feeling.
“One day you’ll be amazing, too,” Megan assured him. “But for now you need to eat dinner and get some rest. Tomorrow will be another long day.”
He was grateful for the healing, but he also knew she was right. There would be many long days ahead.
Chapter
11
Memories of Beauty
They had moved away from the crowd blocking the road, traveled down a side street and into an alley. There was no one else around. Roland glanced both ways down the street and then began making strange cawing and tweeting noises into the air.
“What are you doing?” Kelsey asked, but before Roland could answer, about half a dozen birds landed in the alley with them. After cawing back and forth a few times, all the birds flew off except for two: a golden eagle and a peregrine falcon.
“Pick me! Pick me!” the eagle called out and Kelsey deciphered her speech without effort.
“Yes! Pick her!” Kelsey cried out. “I can understand her!”
At this remark, the bird started speaking rapidly and Kelsey could no longer comprehend anything it was saying. Kelsey thought she heard the bird saying, “My marshmallows have not been laundered in a very long time and my spaghetti needs folding.”
“The falcon is faster,” Roland said, “and what we need at the moment is speed.”
“This guy says he’s faster,” Maggie said, pointing to the falcon after listening to the bird lecture her on the superiority of both his horizontal and diving velocities. The golden eagle clawed at the ground in a disgusted manner a few times and then took off.
“He told you he was faster?” Kelsey asked. She didn’t understand anything the bird was saying.
“More like bragged about it,” Maggie whispered so that the bird couldn’t hear her.
“Now, Kelsey,” Roland said loudly to get her attention, “It’s time to tell the bird what we need and send him on his way. Speed is of the essence.”
“If we’re in such a hurry, then maybe you should just tell the bird what we need,” Kelsey replied.
“Kelsey, if we rush into everything, we’ll never find time for you to learn. Your lessons are equally important, as these will impact the long-term success of our mission.” Roland didn’t wait for an answer. He cawed the message slowly so that Kelsey could follow the sounds in his voice. “Birds are very musical. So, it’s important that you raise and lower the pitch in your voice properly when speaking with them. The same sounds can have very different meanings depending upon the pitch,” he explained.
Kelsey turned to the falcon and tried to imitate the noises that Roland had just made. The bird repeated the message, and Kelsey smiled with satisfaction.
“Bring your mother a new trash heap and some glitter fins. Don’t forget to steam your hands,” Maggie translated.
“How do you do that?” Kelsey asked. “We’ve had one lesson. Just one!”
“I don’t know,” Maggie said with a shrug. “But I’ve always been a talker.”
“Nevertheless,” Roland said, interrupting, “That is exactly what you said. Now listen more carefully to the pitch and not just the sounds.” He repeated his message, and Kelsey tried again to imitate it. The bird cawed back.
“He said that he understands the fox, but that you speak bird with such a strong giraffe accent that it’s difficult to understand you,” Maggie said, and the bird nodded in staunch agreement.
“I do not speak with a giraffe accent!” Kelsey exclaimed defensively.
“Actually, I think maybe you do,” Maggie said. She didn’t know what a giraffe accent sounded like, but it seemed an appropriate description of Kelsey’s speech. “But it’s OK. I think your second try was closer.”
“We don’t have much more time for this lesson,” Kelsey said with embarrassment in her voice. “If he understands what we need, then he should be on his way.”
“I agree,” Roland replied. He repeated the correct message to be sure that the bird understood, and then the bird flew off back in the direction of the castle. Kelsey was certain she could he
ar it laughing at her as it took off, but this wasn’t the time to be upset about it. “And now we’ll take Maggie shopping for the ingredients to build a stellar flame,” Roland announced as he started walking back towards the city entrance. Kelsey was glad for the distraction and relayed the message to Maggie.
“Oh, goody!” Maggie exclaimed as she clasped her hands together. Then she asked, “Is there a particular color you have in mind? Maybe more than one color? A rainbow?”
“We want it to look like the other flame,” Roland said, and Kelsey repeated his statement to Maggie, who nodded that she understood.
It took them about three hours to travel back to the explosives store, locate and purchase the proper ingredients, and then return to the alley. Maggie looked very scientific as she carefully measured powders and mixed them together in an almost ritualistic fashion. She counted the number of times she stirred and was careful to stir in the correct direction each time.
“How do you know which direction to mix the powders?” Kelsey asked with interest. It was like watching a sculptor or painter create something stunning.
“Practice,” Maggie replied without breaking her concentration or looking up.
“Does it really matter in which direction you stir the ingredients?”
“Absolutely. These are combustibles. I’m not making a cake here.”
“It’s a good thing, too. Your cakes are terrible,” said a voice that sounded like Nicholas’. Kelsey stood up abruptly and looked around, but there was no sign of the boy.
“Nicholas?” Kelsey asked. She turned to look at Roland. “Is he here?”
“Of course he’s not here,” Maggie said, still without looking up. “His voice sounds detached.”
“She’s right,” said Roland.
“Then what did I hear?” Kelsey asked.
“His voice,” Roland replied. “He’s impressing himself on our location, but he’s not actually here. It’s sort of like an out-of-body experience.”