The Eternity Road (The Eternity Road Trilogy, Book 1)

by Lana Melyan

  It’s not that Craig hadn’t expected it. He knew what Fray had meant when he said he would train him, but he didn’t feel comfortable doing it with everybody watching them. He lifted his hand and hit Fray in the shoulder. Fray swayed and took a step back, which actually surprised Craig, since he’d put no effort into that blow.

  “I didn’t say pat me, I said hit me,” said Fray, “Haven’t you ever fought before?”

  “I have, but not without reason.”

  “Aha.” Fray thought for a second. “Stand here.” He pointed at the shipboard. “And look there.” He pointed to the opposite shipboard. “Jump from here to there. Jump as far as you can.”

  Ruben chuckled.

  “Silence,” yelled Fray.

  Craig looked at Ruben, then at the rest of them. Everybody was smiling. He felt confused. The distance between the two shipboards was around twenty feet. He didn’t know how far he could get. Not fully transformed yet, he figured he would have to try harder to make it more than halfway.

  Craig took a step, then pushed off with all his might and jumped. His body came off of the deck and flew with a speed he hadn’t expected. He twirled his arms and legs in the air, trying to stop himself, but it didn’t help. He plopped into the cold water a few feet away from the ship.

  When Craig came up to the surface, he saw all of them looking down at him and laughing. They threw him a rope ladder, and he climbed up to the deck.

  “Now you have a reason.” Fray smiled at him. “Go change. We’ll continue later.”

  “Ruben, give Craig dry clothes,” said Gabriella.

  Craig went downstairs into his room.

  A few minutes later Ruben came and handed him the clothes.

  “He’s done that to all of us,” he said, still smiling. “You’re lucky it was just water. When he did it to me, I ended up with my face in manure.”

  “Is there anything else I should be aware of?” asked Craig, taking his shirt off.

  “Oh, yes, his fists. You have to hit him. He will make you do it anyway. You already have enough power to make him fly across the deck. Use it. Of course, he’ll hit back, but he’ll also teach you to protect yourself.”

  “Why did you do it, Ruben?” asked Craig suddenly.

  “Do what?” Ruben didn’t understand.

  “Kill yourself. You knew that you could die trying to save your horse, but you didn’t let him go. Why?”

  “Because I was a cavalryman,” said Ruben calmly, now sounding much older. “My horse was my friend.”

  Yes, they were people, just like him. They had been chosen because of what they had done, because of choices they had made, and he, Craig, had to accept the fact that he was one of them now.

  “You’re a good man, Ruben.”

  “You’re a good man, too. You saved three lives.”

  Yes, he had. He just hoped his family would understand that he did what he had to do and would forgive him.

  “Is Samson going to train me as well?” asked Craig, changing the subject.

  “We’ll all help, but mostly it will be Fray. You see . . . these long trips by ship . . . Fray doesn’t like them. We all like our fight-free time, when we can finally relax, but he gets bored. He wants to train you himself. It will keep him busy.”

  “Can’t wait to get busy myself.”

  Craig was overwhelmed by what had just happened to him. The jump he had made was amazing, almost a flight. He couldn’t wait to find out what else could he do? What other skills did he have? He looked forward to the next training session.

  As he realized later, there wasn’t much space on the ship for scale actions, to fully experience his abilities. That’s why the training consisted mostly of fighting lessons, climbing up the mast, and jumping down with flips. Sometimes, Ruben or Riley helped Fray show some moves, how to act if you’re attacked by many monsters at once, or how to fight off an attack from behind, how to act if a monster was too big, and other protective tricks.

  One evening about three weeks later, when Craig was going to bed, Samson stopped him.

  “I’m very delighted to see how quickly you learn,” he said. “Do you enjoy your lessons?”

  “Thank you, sir. I like them, and I want to learn more. I want to be ready when I meet my first monster.”

  “Glad to hear that.” After a short pause, Samson asked, “How are you doing, Craig, how do you feel? Is it getting any better?”

  “It’s easier in the day time,” said Craig quietly. “But at night, when I think about my family . . . It’s not because I’m dead to them. People die. It’s just that when they do, they don’t feel the pain they’ve caused their loved ones, and they don’t miss them.”

  “There’s nothing I can say to make your pain go away. Only time can do that. I know; I’ve been through it myself.” Samson pointed to a chair, inviting Craig to sit. “Fray and I were friends. We were in Egypt, crossing the desert, and we got lost. After three days without water, we couldn’t move anymore. We were dying.

  I woke up first and saw Fray lying on the ground a few feet away. Then a man appeared out of nowhere and told me he had saved us. He said that I was chosen for a very important mission. He told me what I needed to know, gave me, among other things, a book, and teleported the still-transforming Fray and me to a castle. He said that the castle was invisible to anybody else, and only we could see and enter it. He also said that we could live in it, that it was ours now. And then, after putting this great responsibility on my shoulders, the man disappeared.

  “You see this mark?” Samson pushed the sleeve up to the elbow on his left arm, showing the mark to Craig. It looked like Fray’s dagger. “Fray has it too. It appeared on our arms after transition as a sign of the First Ones.

  “When Fray woke up, I told him what had happened. We were as lost and confused as you are now.

  “I, like you, had millions of questions, but there was nobody around whom I could ask.

  “We were in the middle of nowhere. As the man had said, it was a good place where we could hide from the rest of the world and keep our existence secret, to stay a legend. Later, we came across the Pueblo people, who tried to kill us in every possible way. We let them try everything, and when they didn’t succeed, we became their gods.

  “We learned from the book I received from the man all we could about our powers and mission, then chose the ten strongest Pueblo men and sailed our ship to England. I visited my hometown and watched my family from a distance. It was so painful that I never came back during their lifetime.”

  Craig who listened carefully, took a deep breath. He had wondered what Samson’s story was, but never dared to ask.

  “The man said you’re the chosen one. What did he say about Fray?” asked Craig.

  “He said that it’s up to me to decide, that I could keep him if I trusted him, or he could stop Fray’s transformation. And I kept him, which wasn’t as easy a decision to make as it seems. I didn’t know what his reaction would be, if he would want it. But thankfully, he never complained.”

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “I think it’s time to show you something,” said Samson. “Remember you asked me how did I turn you?” He stood up, took the torch from the table, and said, “Come with me.”

  They walked to the dark corner beside the stairs and stopped in front of a big mahogany chest. A golden lion rested above the keyhole, as if guarding the chest. On the lid was a golden circle with a five-pointed star in it.

  Samson opened the chest, and Craig saw a big open book. It didn’t look like any other book. It wasn’t printed, but handwritten in burgundy ink. The cover of the book, sticking out from under the thick layer of heavy yellow pages, was made of iron and fastened to the bookrack by metal clasps.

  “This is the Book of Power,” said Samson, turning one page after another. “This is where your power and immortality came from, with my help, of course.” He turned another page and said, “Look.”

  Craig looked and saw a depi
ction of the symbol that was on the lid of the chest.

  “This is a pentacle,” continued Samson. “It’s a symbol of harmony, health, and great mystical powers. We’re using it to fight evil but, unfortunately, many people use it to create it.”

  “What is this?” asked Craig, pointing at the colorful feather beneath the pentacle.

  “This is the feather of a peacock tail. It symbolizes changeability, the process of transition of a subject from its beginning until its full transformation.”

  Craig looked at the left page, covered by what looked like small symbols, written in gold. They resembled the ones he’d seen on Fray’s dagger.

  “What kind of language is this?” he asked.

  “The kind that can be read only by the Keeper of the Book.”

  Now he pulled up the sleeve on his right arm and showed Craig another mark, which looked like an open book.

  “Which means me,” said Samson, “This mark the man put on my arm himself. The Book contains only a few pages like this one; the rest you’ll be able to read. It will tell you who we are, what our mission is, who we fight, and how. It will help you find some answers.”

  “And nobody else knows what is on the golden pages?” Craig asked.

  “No, nobody. They only know the meaning of one of the pages. And I’m going to explain it to you, too. It describes the process of the transformation. It taught me how to turn people. All I need from the person I’m turning is a few drops of their blood. I drip it into the pentacle. Then I have to read the golden text on this page, which is different every time. What those words will be depends on the blood and its owner. And then I connect that person to the Book by putting my right hand above those two symbols and my left hand on his chest. Two rays of light will come out of the Book and go right into his chest. One ray is blue—it is the power, the other ray is red—it is the immortality.”

  “This golden text, what does it say, does it tell you something?”

  Samson took a deep breath.

  “I think that’s enough for today. But, before I close the chest, I want you to put your hand here.” Samson pointed at the pentacle and the feather.

  Craig looked at Samson, then at the symbols again, and slowly lifted his hand and did what he was told. The Book was warm. Its pages, which looked heavy from the side, were soft, and Craig’s hand plunged into them like a head plunges into a feather pillow. He squeezed them slightly, and he could swear they squeezed back. The energy flowed from the Book to his hand and went through his entire body, connecting them to each other. In that moment, Craig’s hand felt a distant intermittent signal, like it was suppressed deep inside that warm, soft, welcoming Book. The signal confused Craig and made his heart beat faster, his breathing heavier. The signal—the pulse. He jerked his hand back.

  “It’s alive,” he gasped.

  “Yes, it’s alive,” said Samson. “And here is the first and most important rule you must remember—the Book cannot be closed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he who closes it will die. The Book will kill him and take back the power from the rest of us. You see these clasps?”

  Craig nodded.

  “Only one of us can open those clasps, and only one of us can close the Book. But once it’s closed, it will remain closed because, right now, there’s nobody among us who will be able to open it again.”

  Samson closed the chest and put the torch on the table. Craig was deep in his thoughts and he didn’t know how long they stood in silence before Samson spoke again.

  “You understand how important this Book is and how much we all depend on it. Showing it to you, I am showing you my trust.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Craig respected this courageous and noble man. Yes, Samson hadn’t been able to give him a choice, but he had saved his life, given him power and immortality, his trust and support. “I will not let you down,” he said, looking into Samson’s eyes.

  “I know.” Samson walked to him and put his hand around Craig’s shoulders. “You don’t have to call me sir. We are family and we call each other by name.”

  A week later, standing with Samson on the deck of Destiny, Craig saw an ancient castle sublimely towering on the beautiful shore.

  “Welcome home,” said Samson.

  Craig heard a noise behind them. He turned around and saw Fray, Gabriella, Riley, and Ruben smiling at him.

  8

  TODAY

  It was already dark when Craig heard the hiss of braking wheels.

  “You kept the car,” he said, meeting Hanna in the hallway.

  “Yes, to be sure that she’s not driving anywhere alone.” She headed to the kitchen. “I told her our cousin is arriving tonight and I have to pick him up from the station because you have a meeting with your imaginary website guys.”

  “You could have actually done that, you know,” a voice called from the living room. “Then you would’ve saved me from that cracker in the taxi who kept telling me how young I am and how I don’t know anything about life.”

  Hanna turned around and saw Ruben standing in the kitchen doorway. She ran toward him and clutched her arms around his neck.

  “Oh, God, I am so glad to see you,” she said, delighted.

  “I hope it’s because you missed me.” Ruben hugged her back tightly.

  “Of course I missed you, I miss all of you.” She stepped back. “You look different.”

  “It’s my new haircut.”

  “It’s gorgeous. It makes you look older.”

  “I am older. Look.” Ruben took his driver’s license out of his pocket and handed it to Hanna. “I’m nineteen now. And you say we can’t age.”

  “Really?” said Craig.

  Ruben had changed his age before, but he always made himself younger so he could stay longer in one place.

  “Samson said that we probably won’t need any more high school kids and I can choose any age possible for me.”

  “Congratulations,” laughed Hanna. “Now you can go to college!”

  “Funny.”

  “Does this mean I don’t have to buy beer for you anymore?” smiled Craig.

  “No, brother, at least not in Europe, just whisky and vodka.”

  They laughed.

  In the living room, Craig pulled a bottle of whiskey out from the cabinet and three crystal glasses. Hanna settled comfortably on the couch, and Ruben sat down on the big, dark-red velvet armchair in front of her.

  “Okay,” said Ruben. “I know how things are here in general, Samson kept me updated. Fill me in on the details and tell me what your plans are for me.”

  “We know that at least three vampires are watching Amanda,” said Craig, handing each of them their glasses and taking his place in another armchair. “I want you to help Hanna keep an eye on the girls, to be beside her if something goes wrong. That’s why I think it would be very handy if you become friends with Kimberly.”

  “Kimberly? She’s the other girl, right?” He looked at Hanna. “Your and Amanda’s friend?”

  “Yes,” said Hanna. “And you have to promise me that you’ll keep yourself together. Keep your charm under control.”

  “I promise. Is she pretty?”

  Craig chuckled.

  “It's not funny.” Hanna scowled. “If you break her heart, I’ll kill you.”

  “I said I promise. When are you going to introduce us?”

  Craig smiled. Hanna gazed at him sideways, then looked at Ruben.

  “You’ll meet her tomorrow after school. The day after tomorrow, we’re going to a party, and I’ll make sure she invites you to go with her.”

  “Good,” said Craig quickly before Ruben could react to Hanna’s “making sure” part of the plan. “Where is the party?”

  “At Alec Stafford’s house.”

  Craig’s face drained. Hanna had told him about Alec. She had also told him that Amanda didn’t reciprocate his feelings. But the fact of his existence bothered Craig.

  “He knows how much I hate hi
m, and he invited me only because he knew that Amanda wouldn’t go without me.”

  “Who is Alec?” asked Ruben.

  “It’s not important,” said Craig, throwing a warning look at Hanna. She closed her already open mouth. “The important thing is to be careful at that party. Do not rely on the fact that it’s a private house. You know teenagers, they’ll invite anybody, even someone they met only once.” Craig and Hanna gazed at Ruben.

  “Or never met at all.” Ruben grinned.

  “Exactly,” said Craig.

  Hanna’s phone rang from the kitchen.

  “It’s probably Amanda.” She ran to get it.

  “I am glad you came,” said Craig quietly. “I don’t remember the last time she laughed.”

  “It has been tough for you guys. I know, been there.”

  “It has been tough for Hanna. Amanda is just a regular mortal girl. Anything can happen to her—illness, car crash, or some other stupid accident. People are so fragile. And now that the vampires are here… she’s freaking out.”

  “Yes, too much responsibility.”

  “She was just asking if I made it in time,” said Hanna, returning from the kitchen. She sat back on the couch. “I said everything’s okay and I’m on my way back. This lying,” she moaned, “it’s killing me. I have to lie to them all the time, make things up. I’m always afraid I’ll get lost in my own lies.”

  “We’re almost there, Hanna,” said Ruben. “One way or another it’ll be over soon. Let’s just hope that this time we’ll succeed, that it’s really her.”

  “It’s her,” said Craig and sipped from his whiskey.

  “Are you absolutely sure about that?” Ruben asked.

  “What if you feel like that because she looks like Eleanor?” said Hanna carefully. “Because you want it to be her?”

  “No.” Craig stood up. “I know it’s her. Samson said he can feel it, too.” He poured more whiskey into his glass. “I found about a dozen houses which match Amanda’s description. Tomorrow I’m going to check a few places on the west side.” He looked at Hanna. “Sorry I didn’t tell you before. You already had too much to worry about. The thing is that, this dream Amanda saw, it might not be a dream.”