The Lost Book of Wonders

by Chad Brecher

  Riverbank, Alex thought and tried to recall the events that brought him to this tent. He could remember the tremendous roar of the waterfall, a wall of mist, and a free-fall that seemed to last forever. Then the world went blank. How did we end up here? he wondered.

  “You are both a long way from home, Alexander Stone and Eleanor Griffin.”

  Ellie cast Alex a look of surprise.

  “Don’t be so shocked. We know all about you two. We’ve been following your adventure for some time — following it with interest and concern. A fair number of my men were lost trying to prevent your party from achieving your goal.”

  “You’re Darkhad?” Alex asked despondently. His heart sank upon realizing the company in which they found themselves. We’re doomed, Alex thought.

  “Yes. We are the protectors of the legacy of Genghis Khan and much more. You see, this land you have treaded upon is sacred. It has been since the beginning of time — before mankind crawled upon the surface. It was something the great Khan realized and embraced. He left us with the task of preserving this. Everything that man has and is was given to him by the earth and the spirits that inhabit it.”

  “Why not share it with the rest of the world?” Ellie asked.

  “Genghis Khan was a warrior-king. He knew the necessities of war and violence because at heart he knew the depravity of man. He saw it first-hand around him and bristled at the notion that man could ever be trusted with something so pure, so fragile. It would be destroyed and the magic lost forever. It is a life-force that gave birth to us and may restore us once again when the time is right. And for that we are blessed and should be thankful.”

  “So you intend to keep it hidden?” Ellie countered.

  “Mankind is not ready for the true power that lies at the heart of Burkhan Kaldun. One day, perhaps. And besides, your companions have done quite a lot to insure this by sealing the one entrance.”

  “They were not our companions,” Alex replied earnestly.

  The old man nodded and pulled Polo’s book back along the table. He opened the text again and proceeded to flip through the pages once again. The man raised the book by its spine, let the pages fan out, and shook it. He subsequently snapped it shut with a thud, looked down at it, and handed it to Alex.

  Alex rose to his feet and accepted the book with a look of sheer befuddlement.

  “When you leave this tent, travel through the pines at the edge of the steppes. You will come to a river. Follow the riverbank south for five kilometers and you will find a small town. From this town you will be able to leave this place and return to your homes.”

  Alex looked across at Ellie who stared back at him in disbelief. That’s it? he wondered to himself.

  “Why are you doing this?” Alex asked.

  “Although there are some in my tribe who seethe with anger and would like nothing more than revenge for the loss of their comrades and your trespassing on holy ground, I do not believe that your intentions were with malice.”

  “But we’ve seen it…I mean, we know the location. What would prevent us from returning with a larger team and excavating machines,” Ellie blurted out, immediately regretting opening her mouth. What was she saying? Just shut up and leave like the man offered, she thought and reprimanded herself for her stupidity.

  The old man laughed. “The fact that you would ask that tells all. True, such knowledge is dangerous. I believe that you have the sense and understanding that it is necessary to leave such a place undisturbed. And take heed, we Darkhad are always vigilant…always. Do not test us. And be sure that we will follow your careers closely.”

  “The book?” Alex added.

  “Ah yes, the book…Marco Polo’s original manuscript. Why would I allow it to ever leave this place? Why would I not toss it straight into the fire and be done with it once and for all? Why take the chance that some bright academic like you might connect the dots and decipher the fourth book encoded within its pages?

  “Let me tell you a final tale before you go.” The man stiffened his posture in his chair. Ellie looked at the old man and found him strangely professorial.

  “There once was a man named Qaidu who was born in the Hentiyn Nuruu — the Kentei Mountains — to the howl of the Blue-Gray Wolf. Genghis Khan had passed from this world and the Mongol empire was in the midst of a power vacuum that was ultimately filled by Kublai Khan. Qaidu was a simple man who led a relatively prosaic early life until he began to suffer from frequent and debilitating spells that would leave him incapacitated for periods of time. You see, Qaidu was Darkhad and he was proud of being a member of this tribe that was entrusted to care for the legacy of Genghis Kahn. But, as his illness became more noticeable, members of his family and tribe began to believe that he was possessed by evil spirits. A shaman even portended that he would bring down destruction on the Darkhad. As a result, poor Qaidu, was ostracized from the people he had grown up with and forced to live a life of loneliness.

  “So it was that one fateful day while hunting alone in the woods of the Kentei Mountains, Qaidu suddenly saw flashes of lights shoot across the sky like falling stars. These brilliant colors mixed and merged until they consumed his sight and left him stricken dumb upon the forest floor. He lay unconscious on the cold earth for some time before the fog that had clouded his mind lifted, leaving him exhausted and spent. When he finally reopened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself beside a raging fire in the middle of the woods. He looked at his surroundings and nearly jumped at the site of a bloodied carcass of a wolf with an arrow sticking out of its hide beside him. There was a majestic horse tied to a nearby tree. Beside the fire sat a man wearing a patchwork fur coat and his face hidden in the shadows of a hood.

  “Startled, Qaidu demanded to know who this man was. The stranger beside the fire removed his hood and looked at Qaidu.

  “‘I’m the man who saved your life,’ the stranger answered in perfect Mongolian. Qaidu was astonished to see that the stranger was a white man. ‘I see that you are finally up.’

  “‘Am I dead?’ Qaidu asked the apparition as he looked down upon the carcass of the wolf a second time.

  “The man smiled and said,‘“Not unless I am, too. You had a spell and I have watched over you until you returned to this world. It is dangerous to hunt alone out here.’

  ‘“You are alone,’ Qaidu pointed out.

  “‘That is true,’ the stranger agreed. ‘I am on a mission and I’m never truly alone with this…’ The man opened his coat to reveal the golden piazza of Kublai Khan hanging from around his neck. ‘It is heavy but it is worth the weight.’

  “‘Piazza.’ Qaidu had heard of such things. He stared at the stranger. ‘I have seen you before. I have seen you in my visions. You have come from far away. You will take me away from this place’

  ‘“I am Marco Polo. I have come from far away.’

  “Polo explained to Qaidu that the Christian Apostle, Paul, had also suffered from spells. He told how Paul had a vision on the road to Damascus of a resurrected Jesus. Polo explained how Jesus had died for mankind’s sins and how Paul was not initially a believer in Jesus until he was struck by his vision.

  “‘Are you Jesus?’ Qaidu asked.

  “Polo laughed. ‘No, I’m simply a man. No more, no less.’

  “Polo explained to Qaidu that he was on a journey to discover a land called Eden where there existed a magical garden, which had a tree providing immortality. He had searched far and wide through the vast lands of the Khanate in hopes of finding this place but had only come across vague rumors and whispers of its existence. His voyage had led him to the base of the Kentei Mountains but no further. He was lost. Qaidu listened quietly as the mysterious foreigner wove his tale of wonder.

  “Qaidu was a conflicted soul. He felt loyalty to his tribe but felt indebted to this strange white man who had saved his life and protected him in his time of need while the Darkhad had abandoned him. But above all, he had seen this man in visions when the world would go blac
k and he knew that his life was leading to this day. Qaidu made the fateful decision to reveal to the stranger that he knew where this Garden could be found.

  “In the light of a half moon and to the howl of the wolves, the two ascended Burkhan Khaldum and entered the secret passage. Qaidu never spoke of what happened as they approached to gates of paradise. As the two traveled down the mountainside, Qaidu realized that his life now, for better or worse, was inextricably linked to that of Marco Polo. So it was that when Polo fled the Khanate, Qaidu joined him and had adventures of his own in the Western World.”

  “Qaidu is Peter? Peter…Marco Polo’s ‘slave.’ The one from his will!” Ellie exclaimed.

  The old man nodded. “Qaidu was hardly a slave in Polo’s eyes, but a friend. In Venice, how else could you describe this Mongolian man? Qaidu, now Peter, remained a conflicted soul, not unlike Marco Polo. He was untethered. As Polo had become increasingly Easternized through the years, Qaidu became increasingly Westernized. What is that saying that is so popular in the West? They were ships passing each other in the night.

  “As Qaidu aged, the spells became less frequent and he settled into his life in Venice. Qaidu watched as Polo crafted his manuscript with Rustichello and imbedded the contents of the fourth book within the text. Before Marco Polo died, he summoned his friend to his bedside and asked him to keep the book safe to ensure that there will be a path back to paradise. After Marco Polo died, Qaidu ultimately left Venice and returned to his homeland. He eventually married and was able to reintegrate into the Darkhad. His wife gave birth to many children who passed on Qaidu’s secret of betrayal and his promise to Polo to keep the book safe. It is a burden that I hold tightly to my heart.”

  “You’re a descendant of Qaidu…of Peter, aren’t you?” Alex asked incredulously.

  The old man nodded. “The final descendent of Qaidu…the bearer of many secrets.” The man grew silent and rose from his chair. He paced around the room and stopped suddenly with his back to Ellie and Alex. “There is one thing more. You asked me why I am giving you this book. Several years ago, I too began to be overtaken by spells. At first it was just short episodes of muddling of my mind. I would stare into space blinking for no reason, no reason at all. Then the spells became longer. Later they started with flashes of color, loss of consciousness, and…visions. I cannot explain it any better but to say that I need to give you this book. I know this because I feel that I have seen this before. Now I know how Qaidu felt upon seeing Marco Polo in the forest. In my visions, we are here in this tent and I give you this book. You leave and I feel at peace with my decision. I don’t know how better to explain it. I don’t know what purpose this book will serve, but this is my decision.”

  Ellie looked at Alex and shrugged.

  “Go,” said the man without turning.

  Alex motioned to the entrance of the tent. Ellie leaned into him and whispered. “What do we do?”

  Alex clutched the book to his chest. “Let’s go,” he whispered back.

  The two slipped through the opening in the tent and were blinded by the sunlight. The two guards watched them as they staggered forward. Alex pointed to pine trees in the distance. They began their long walk.

  93

  New York

  Alex stared at the exposed radiator and listened as it wheezed and popped. He reflexively rubbed his hand alongside the right side of his chest. He could still feel a twinge of ripping pain with each deep breath and felt strangely relieved by the sensation — it was a reminder that all that had happened was not a thing of dreams. Once again squirreled away in his miniscule office buried within the basement of the Metropolitan Museum of Arts, Alex felt increasingly disconnected with the events that had occurred over a month ago. He looked down at the newspaper folded in half on his lap. Clay Pharmaceutical stocks had plummeted on the news that Redmund Clay remained missing.

  The ring of the phone startled Alex. He searched under journals splayed out on his workbench and was finally able to locate the receiver.

  “Hello.”

  “Alex, is that you? Finally.” Dr. Graham sounded exasperated. “Where have you been? Things have been crazy here. I had to cancel the lecture on the Black Death. You haven’t touched the material I left for you on my desk. This is very unlike you, Alex. Frankly, I expect more from you. You came to me with impeccable recommendations and now this. How’s the Crucifix Exhibit progressing?”

  “Dr. Graham, I’m going to have to get back to you on that one. I’m a bit tied up for the moment. I need to go.” Alex listened for a moment and relished the sound of stunned silence before Graham blurted out, “Wait! Wait!” Alex smiled and hung up the receiver.

  The door to the office made a grating sound as it was pushed open. Ellie popped her head in. The bruising along her cheekbone had faded and she looked stunningly beautiful again.

  “Hey you.” She wiggled her way into the room and leaned over to kiss Alex. He clung to her for a while. “Well, I’ve had discussions with several museums and institutes and I’m convinced we will find a good home for Marco Polo’s original manuscript. I’ve made it a prerequisite that the collection be named after Bernardo.”

  Alex peered at his desk and could see the book sitting upon it.

  “Well, we did lose the box with the diamonds, Polo’s last will, and the piece of Fra Mauro’s map that Phillip cut out,” Alex responded. “I suppose we owe it to posterity to see that at least one historical artifact is preserved.”

  “We did the best we could under the circumstances. Hell, we’re lucky we got out alive.” Ellie glanced down at the folded newspaper and frowned. “You know, Alex, this will open a lot of doors for you. Actually, both of us. The world of academia is wide open to you with our discovery of the Polo’s original manuscript. You can finally say, ‘Screw you, Graham.’ I know you’ve been dying to all this time. You could pick where you want to go. I’m voting for somewhere in New York City, not too far away from me.” Ellie smiled mischievously. She paused upon seeing a look of pain across Alex’s face. “What is it?”

  “I keep seeing Redmund’s face as he pushed the book into me. It’s haunting. Everything went wrong so fast. I just don’t understand why he didn’t try to eat the leaf.”

  Ellie rubbed Alex’s shoulder. “I don’t think we’ll ever know for certain. I do know that he was acutely aware at how much the book meant to you.”

  Alex leaned back and sighed. He twirled around in his chair and stretched his neck backwards. He felt completely exhausted and closed his eyes. He had not slept well since their return to New York. How could he? Alex asked himself. He could not stop replaying the events of that day. Alex slowly opened his eyes and could see the top of the book. He followed the binding of the text and froze.

  Alex sprung out of his chair and seized the book. Ellie jumped back and watched as he frantically flipped opened the book to the blank cover page. His fingers explored the edges of the parchment glued to the back of the leather cover. At the top of the parchment was a nearly imperceptible slit.

  “Look at this,” Alex mumbled under his breath.

  He gripped the cover and pinched his fingers allowing the parchment to pucker slightly. The slit opened, exposing a gap between the parchment and the leather cover. He maneuvered the opening into the light and shook his head.

  “Ellie, hand me those tweezers.”

  His hand shook as he slid the tips of the tweezers through the opening and secured the object. With the tweezers delicately clasped around the object, he slid it onto the surface of his desk and took a step back.

  The white leaf was luminous.

  “My God, Alex. He did it.” Ellie could feel her eyes well up with tears.

  “He knew that we would have made him eat the leaf. This was the only way he thought that the leaf could have any chance of reaching the rest of the world,” Alex added.

  They stood in silence staring at the leaf until Ellie finally asked, “What do we do with it?”

  Alex looked
at Ellie and then down at the newspaper article.

  “I think we should do what Redmund would have wanted us to do.”

  Ellie’s hand found Alex’s and squeezed it tight.

  Epilogue

  Dr. Carol Fife placed her thumb upon the biometric fingerprint reader and waited impatiently as the glass door clicked and slid aside. She rushed through the opening as she struggled to get her left arm through the sleeve of her starched, white lab coat. Dr. Fife nodded to the security guard stationed behind the closed-circuit monitor and continued down the long dimly-lit hallway. She could see Anne, one of her laboratory technicians, waiting by the door to her lab clutching a clipboard tightly to her chest.

  “Did you check it?” Dr. Fife tersely inquired as she whizzed by the technician into the enormous lab.

  “Yes, Dr. Fife. Multiple times. The data is reproducible,” the technician responded and tried to keep up. “It’s amazing. It’s like a miracle.”

  Dr. Fife looked back at the young girl and snickered. “There’s nothing miraculous about science.” She had been a researcher long enough that her wildly unkempt research hair had turned from a dull brown to a shock of gray. She had been here before, confronted by the promise of a breakthrough in her field, ultimately to be let down. Such was the life of a researcher. It was a life she had devoted over fifty years to. Science can be a bitch, she thought.

  Dr. Fife rummaged through the pile of data forming an unstable tower upon her workbench and found her glasses. She snatched the clipboard from Anne and studied the numbers spat out by the computer.

  “This can’t be,” she muttered.

  “It’s what I thought,” replied Anne. “That’s why I ran the study again…and again. Dr. Fife, the results were identical.”

  “I need to see…see for myself,” mumbled Dr. Fife as she stood up and walked in a trance over to the door at the far end of the laboratory. Dr. Fife threw off her lab coat and hung it on a peg beside the door. She slipped a blue paper jumpsuit over her clothes and pulled the hood over her hair, feeling the elastic dig into her forehead. Beside her Anne was matching the ritual and handed a surgical mask to her mentor.