The Golden Symbol (Kilenya Series Book 6)

by Andrea Pearson

  But nothing happened. He reached the trunk and knew why. It had been burned, and badly.

  He looked back at Dad. “I’m not sure if this is going to work. It’s been on fire more than once.”

  Dad frowned, nodding. “Try it anyway.”

  Jacob turned back to the tree and put his hand on its charred bark, surprised there was any of it left. It only took him a moment to find a seal on a hidden compartment. He pried at the edges, trying to open it. But nothing budged. Remembering he had the Key of Kilenya in his pocket, he pulled it out and held it next to the compartment. No lock appeared.

  Jacob turned to his dad again, shaking his head. “I can’t get it to open.”

  Dad half smiled. “I’d wondered if Onyev did something like this.” Staying out of reach of the tree, he tossed the Key of Ayunli to Jacob. “Now try it.”

  Jacob held the key up to the compartment. As he watched, the edges of the box started glowing. Instinctively, he tried to put the key into one of the edges. That didn’t work. He held the rose-colored glass up to the seals. Again, nothing happened, so he dragged the key along all the glowing parts.

  A hissing noise sounded from within—like a trap being released—and the compartment opened. Four small doors folded away, revealing a deep, dark hole in the tree’s interior.

  He couldn’t help thinking about Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom when he put his hand into the dark hole. No bugs crawled onto him, though, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He hoped no one noticed him shaking and sweating. Why did everyone have to watch? So awkward.

  Jacob reached farther into the tree and grabbed a scroll. He pulled it out and turned it toward the green-darkened sun. It had been damaged by the flames—parts of it crumbled away as soon as he started unrolling it. He knew that didn’t matter—they were black and ash-like and wouldn’t have been legible anyway.

  Once the scroll was open as far as it would go, Jacob squinted at it. Only a couple of lines of writing were visible.

  “It’s not all here.” Jacob fingered the huge hole where most of the writing of the parchment had been destroyed, then looked up. “And what’s here isn’t written in English.”

  Dad strode forward, taking the scroll from him. “No wonder nothing stopped you—this isn’t going to help us at all. One ingredient is mentioned, and we would have guessed it anyway. Sap from a silver tree.” He held it up to the sun, peering at the writing, then sighed. “We’ll take it to Aldo and the Fat Lady anyway, though I have to say I’m disappointed.”

  Jacob nodded, and Dad put the scroll in his bag and turned to the others. “Let’s head back.”

  As they were leaving, though, Ebony put her hand up, an intense expression on her face. Everyone stared at her and she looked at Dad. “Can you hear that?”

  Dad shook his head, but Akeno stepped next to his mother. “Feet. Running feet.” His eyes widened with alarm. “Something is headed this way, fast. And lots of them!”

  The Makalos and humans didn’t have time to react before the source of the sound appeared.

  Villagers rushed forward, flooding the street. As they neared Jacob’s group, several of them stopped to fight, brandishing brooms, table legs, and knives. They swung out at everyone, pushing the group back. When it became apparent that no one was trying to stop them, the villagers continued forward, leering at Jacob and the others as they passed.

  The first trickle of people swelled into a huge mass, and Jacob quickly lost track of his friends. He saw Ebony get knocked down, but he couldn’t reach her. Dad appeared by her side and pulled her up before someone trampled her. Then Gremul fell. He wasn’t so lucky—he got stepped on by several villagers before Gallus got to him.

  “Back! Into the forest!” Dad called.

  Jacob shook his head. “Can’t—the trees—” Dad couldn’t hear him, and he didn’t need to finish anyway. Branches were flying through the air, smacking and whipping anyone who got near.

  Jacob pushed against people shoving him, trying not to get jostled too much, trying to avoid the attacking forest. What was going on? How had the villagers been freed? They normally couldn’t go this far.

  Finally, the stampede of people slowed, then ended completely. Dad, Gallus, and Jacob rushed forward, helping Makalos and humans to their feet. There weren’t many injuries—a couple broken arms and some bruises and cuts. It could have been a lot worse.

  Gallus and Dad looked at each other. “Even from far away, the Lorkon are still causing mischief,” Gallus said.

  “We expected that to be the case.” Dad motioned for everyone to head back to the town hall.

  As they were about to enter the city, Sanso, the Ember God, dashed past them.

  Gallus and Dad yanked out their swords, but Sanso merely jumped out of the way, an evil grin on his face.

  “I shattered every single one of those vials!” he shouted. “Every one!” He disappeared down an alley, his laughter echoing behind him.

  Gallus lowered his sword. “What was that supposed to mean?”

  Dad shook his head. “I have no idea. But let’s be extra cautious, just in case.”

  Jacob couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Dad meant, especially since he thought they were already being “extra cautious.”

  Maivoryl City was eerily quiet, and it wasn’t any wonder. The place was empty. Jacob only saw a couple of Bald Henries, which Gremul took care of right away, but nothing else wandered the streets. No one watched from the windows.

  The place felt like Macaria, back when all the doors had been destroyed. Here, many doors were still intact, but they were open, and furniture was strewn along the street.

  “They’ve been freed,” Dad said, stating what Jacob felt was obvious. “The villagers. Someone released them from their prison.”

  Gallus nodded. “But for what purpose? What are the Lorkon trying to do?”

  Jacob felt Aloren look at him and he glanced her way. By the colors floating in the air around her, he could tell she was afraid. She met his gaze but didn’t say anything.

  Even though Jacob was nervous, the contact with Aloren, though brief, warmed him. Maybe she was going to stop ignoring him.

  He stepped back, letting others enter the town hall ahead of him. Because of this, he didn’t see why Dad and Gallus immediately pulled out their swords as soon as they’d gone inside.

  “He isn’t a threat—he isn’t a threat,” Jacob heard Eachan say.

  He scooted past Gallus, then saw what was going on. His jaw dropped.

  Sanso, the Ember God, was sitting at a table next to Eachan. They appeared to be eating a midday meal.

  “What is going on?” Gallus pointed his sword at Sanso, eyes on Eachan. “You’re working with him now?”

  Eachan got to his feet slowly, painfully, but clearly at ease with the situation. “Sanso has had a change of heart.” He motioned to the Ember God. “Why don’t you explain what happened?”

  Sanso shrugged. He didn’t stop eating when he started talking. “Keitus sent me and the other Ember Gods to prevent your people from getting that female Lorkon. We failed and he punished us, sentencing us to death. The wolves finished off the other Ember Gods, and a Dust saved my life.”

  Sanso pointed over his shoulder, his chin-length black hair swaying. “The Dust is in the kitchen, if you’d like to meet him.”

  Dad and Jacob looked at each other. Why would they want to meet a Dust?

  But Sanso jumped to his feet. He strode into the kitchen and didn’t return for a moment.

  Eachan smiled at the group. “He’s become quite attached to that Dust over the past few weeks.” His smile left his face. “Sanso should have died. Only his pride, and the small creature, kept him alive until I found them. And now, he’s been helping me get revenge on the Lorkon.”

  Sanso returned. “The Dust will be out in a minute.” He returned to his seat at the table and took a long drink from a cup. “The Lorkon paid me richly . . . but they turned on me in the end. I suppose they alway
s would have.”

  His face darkened—his emotion colors changed to red—and Jacob felt like stepping behind the people who now surrounded him. Sanso was very dangerous when he was angry, and Jacob had experienced his anger. He pushed aside the impulse to hide, though, curious to see what the Ember God did next.

  “Foolish Keitus. Never sees beyond his own plan. Never sees anyone as a threat. But I’ve now released his precious villagers, and he won’t have anyone to conduct his tests on.”

  Eachan frowned. “He’s still doing tests?”

  Jacob was just as surprised as the older man. He was especially surprised that Sanso knew and Eachan didn’t.

  Sanso waved Eachan off. “All the time. He thinks he may have found a way to bind an object to a person, then unbind it.” The Ember God looked at Jacob. “He wants your key, boy, and he’s going to try to get it.”

  “Small chance of that happening now,” Jacob said. “He’s not exactly in a position to—”

  A look from Dad silenced him. Jacob figured Dad didn’t want Sanso to know that the Lorkon were hundreds, even thousands of miles away. Why, though? What was the Ember God going to do about it?

  Just then, a Dust entered the room, head down. He approached Sanso. The Ember God put his arm around the Dust’s shoulders and turned the creature to face the people.

  “Show them your eyes,” he commanded.

  The Dust looked up, and Jacob gasped. Instead of the dark brown he’d expected, the Dust’s eyes were green. He’d never seen a Dust—or a Wurby—with green eyes. Always brown or blue.

  Dad’s mouth popped open. “He’s changing.” He looked at Sanso. “You’re causing him to change.” He put his hand on his chin, thinking. “He’s loyal to you now, instead of the Lorkon. And . . . and since you aren’t on either side—good or bad—his eyes aren’t blue or brown.”

  Sanso nodded. “I suspected as much. Ember Gods don’t pick sides. We’re above that sort of petty behavior.”

  Aloren frowned, stepping forward. Jacob had almost forgotten she was there. She raised her sleeves. “You say this . . . this brutality isn’t picking sides? Look at this! Look at what you did to me!”

  Sanso only glanced at her briefly. “Don’t blame me. I only did what they paid me to do.” He glanced at her arms again. “That represents some of my best work, by the way.”

  Aloren glowered at him, and Jacob felt a sudden urge to punch the Ember God. Don’t blame him for his choices? What kind of stupid talk was that? The guy had his freedom—he didn’t have to obey the Lorkon. Yeah, so what if death was the result of disobedience? Jacob would rather die than purposely burn an innocent person!

  Aloren obviously felt the same way. “You’re scum, Sanso. You’ll always be scum.” She refused to look away from him until he met her gaze, and Jacob was positive, if it had been dark inside the town hall, they would have seen lightning shoot from her eyes.

  Dad cleared his throat. “It’s time for us to leave.” He motioned to Jacob. “Go ahead—Key us back to the village.”

  Jacob nodded, pulling out the Key. He created the link, then stepped back, letting everyone else go ahead of him. Aloren was the last. She was still in a staring battle with Sanso. Finally, she looked away—to Eachan—and pulled something out of her pocket.

  She approached the older man and handed him whatever it was she was holding. “For your pain. This will help. Take two or three of them three times a day.”

  Eachan smiled at Aloren, thanked her, and gave her a hug.

  Jacob followed her out the door, looking back one more time at Sanso and his “pet” Dust. The Ember God gave a small wave and returned to his food, and the Dust just watched Jacob, his big eyes wary.

  Jacob couldn’t imagine what it would be like to switch loyalties like that. No wonder the Dust took so long coming out to meet them. He’d been Jacob’s enemy.

  Chapter Two: Myler

  That night, lying in his bed, Jacob couldn’t stop thinking about Myler. He was insane—that much was obvious—but the guy had spirit and a lot of it. He’d sacrificed himself, trying to get back at his brother who’d betrayed him, turned into a Lorkon, and then betrayed Myler even more by performing tests on Myler’s fiancé . . . then killing her.

  Jacob had been the only one to care for Myler, and he wasn’t even sure why. The guy was a jerk. He was crude and impulsive and brash. And definitely unpredictable.

  But still, Jacob cared. And he wanted to know that someone had buried Myler’s body—showed him the respect he deserved, in his own way. Jacob exhaled and rolled over, facing his wall. He tried to go to sleep. He counted in his head. He thought about what would happen tomorrow when he left with Akeno for Gratitude City. That was the next location of the antidote. Would it have survived? Would the tree be there?

  The instructions in Onyev’s book had hinted that only a full-blood Makalo would be able to find the tree. Akeno was the only one who fit that description.

  Jacob rolled over again, his thoughts returning to Myler. His last act. The fight in the man’s eyes as he’d jumped at the Lorkon.

  Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to know what happened to the man’s body. If it was still in that ditch, Jacob would insist on getting a team together to go bury him properly.

  He jumped off his bed and looked out his window at the moon. Without Azuriah’s help, Jacob had figured out that he could use the light from the moon to search through time for someone. He didn’t have to use the sun directly because the moon reflected the sun’s light.

  When he’d told Azuriah what he found out, the Shiengol had stared at him for several seconds, not saying anything. But he didn’t have to—his emotion colors said plenty. The Shiengol was annoyed at first, then angry, then jealous, then . . . and this really surprised Jacob . . . the colors for pride flooded the air around him. He was proud of Jacob. Proud!

  Of course, he didn’t say so, but he told Jacob to leave and go get some real work done.

  Jacob laughed, thinking about that as he gazed at the moon for a full minute. Because the light was diffused, the usual ten seconds wasn’t long enough.

  When he felt his eyes glowing, Jacob Time-Saw to Tadrys a week ago, when he’d Keyed the Lorkon and Myler there. He lit up Myler’s body, lying in the ditch, like a silver beacon—for some reason, the sun’s light diffused by the moon didn’t turn things golden. He fast-forwarded through time, then nearly jumped when Myler’s body moved.

  Jacob reversed his vision. Did someone touch the guy? Throw something at him? Grab him? He didn’t see anyone around Myler. He rewound and started watching again, slower this time, with his vision pulled back slightly—enough to see if anyone approached.

  Myler’s body moved. No one had touched him. Then it was still for a while.

  But then, and Jacob nearly bit his tongue off, Myler stumbled to his knees, hands grasping, reaching, clawing through the dirt. A zombie! He’d turned into a zombie! But zombies weren’t real, were they?

  Anything was possible. Especially on Eklaron.

  Myler crawled out of the ditch. He coughed, smearing blood on his sleeve. He called for help, slumping to the ground.

  A woman saw him and rushed to his side, feeling his forehead. She turned and waved, yelling at other people.

  Two men joined her, and together, they lifted Myler. His head fell to the side, but Jacob could tell he wasn’t a zombie. He was alive!

  The three adults half carried, half dragged Myler down the road, around a corner, and into a building. It took Jacob a moment to realize this was a hospital of sorts. Hundreds and hundreds of people lay everywhere—some looking dead, some sick, and others, barely hurt at all.

  Jacob bit the inside of his cheek. The Lorkon had caused all of this. He felt sick, realizing the implications. He and Gallus were to blame. By Keying the Lorkon to Tadrys, they’d pretty much ordered the execution of the town. How many had died at the hands of those beasts? Jacob felt bile rise in his throat. He fought it down, along with his gui
lt. It didn’t matter where they sent the Lorkon—there would have been casualties either way.

  He pushed those thoughts aside, still so very shocked that Myler was alive.

  Jacob fast-forwarded until the present time, watching the man. Myler coughed occasionally, but for the most part, he didn’t move a lot. He was still there, in that hospital.

  Jacob pulled his vision to the present and jumped off his bed. He glanced at the clock—it was well after eleven. Hopefully Mom and Dad would still be up. He threw his door open and dashed down the stairs.

  The lights were all on. He followed voices to his parents’ study and found Dad there with the Fat Lady and Aldo. They were leaning over the desk, staring at the scroll Jacob had retrieved from the tree in Maivoryl City.

  Jacob didn’t wait for them to notice him. “Myler is alive!” he blurted.

  “How do you know?” Dad asked.

  Jacob raised an eyebrow, but pushed aside his feelings of impatience. “I Time-Saw. Wanted to know what happened to his body.”

  Aldo looked up, his eyes blurry from studying so much. They became more clear, though, as he tuned into what Jacob had said. “That’s great!”

  “Can we go get him?”

  Dad shook his head. “No. There’s too much to do here.”

  Jacob scowled. “After everything he’s done for us and everything he’s been through, you’re still not willing to help him?”

  “Where is he? What’s his situation?”

  Jacob filled them in on what he’d seen.

  Dad pulled a book down from a shelf behind the desk. “He’ll be fine where he is.”

  Jacob growled, tugging on his hair. “I can’t believe this! You’re being so ridiculous.”

  Dad didn’t answer. He flipped through the pages of the book, then turned and showed it to Aldo, who wasn’t paying attention to Jacob any longer.

  But the Fat Lady cleared her throat. “Your Majesty . . .” She waited until Dad looked at her. “I agree with Jacob. Myler might be, well, difficult sometimes, but after everything he’s done for us, everything he’s been through, we can’t just leave him there. It’s barbaric.” She stared at Dad. “And the king I know you to be is not barbaric.”