by Mark Jeffrey
Enki had perfectly safeguarded against the Pendant ever being abused.
Until now.
If that wall was correct, Max was about to fail Enki’s trust in the worst possible way.
But Max was not going to fail. No matter what the cost. He had already decided that.
“Well. Now that we know what we’re looking for, we should go find it,” Ian said brightly. But then, he was suddenly confused. “Um . . . What are we looking for, exactly?”
“An Arch with Enki in it, of course!” Max replied. “He’s waiting for us to show up right now. Go! Go! Look around!”
The inside of the Pyramid was a labyrinth of Arches and gravity-shifts but it didn’t take them more than fifteen minutes to discover an unusual alcove with two Arches.
In the first was a scene from turn-of-the-century New York. It showed a street in front of the Flatiron building. There were strolling men in top hats and women with parasols.
Max blinked as he saw this. Supposedly, he had been there, in New York, around this time. At least, according to Petunia. Did that mean something? Or was it simply a coincidence that this Arch was a portal to this exact time?
There are no coincidences . . .
The second Arch showed what seemed to be a mirror image, a reflection of this very chamber. It was a sort of great looking glass.
Except that the friends did not see themselves. Instead of their own reflections, they saw someone else.
Enki. It was a younger version, but unmistakably him.
And in his hand was the Pendant.
The foursome sucked in a collective breath of awe.
Enki stood exactly where the foursome now stood—except he was six thousand years in the past. He was dressed like an Egyptian, with a red robe and headdress. His fingers gripped a thin chain from which dangled a small, glowing white stone. The jewel burned like starlight bottled in diamond.
The Pendant.
But Enki was not smiling. He did not seem anywhere near as jovial as his counterpart, Mr. E. On the contrary, his mien was one of utmost seriousness. He was an ancient, executing a solemn duty. His gaze swept over them, taking them in one at a time: Max, then Casey, Ian, and Sasha.
“So,” Enki said without preamble, his voice coming through the Arch slightly distorted. He is actually speaking to us from six thousand years ago, Max thought in awe. “You are the ones who will come.”
Max swallowed and stepped forward.
“My name is Max. Max Quick. I am Niburian. Like you. You sent us to get the Pendant.”
“And who are these others with you?” Enki asked, looking behind Max, seeming disturbed. “They are . . . Wild Men and Women, are they not?” Enki frowned in disapproval for a moment. “You should not have brought your slaves to this place.”
Max blinked, surprised. “Slaves? No. These are my friends.” Max paused and then added, “In fact, I would trust any one of them with my life.”
It was Enki’s turn now to blink in surprise. Then, he smiled slowly. “I beg your pardon. In fact, I ask it of all of you. That is well. Very well. It is good that Niburians and your folk are friends. It is better than I hoped. I am pleased.”
Yet Enki was still clearly bothered. He hesitated, then said, “But you who call yourself Max Quick. Your name is Damiz. Do you not know this? In your time, do you not even know your own name?”
At the word Damiz, Max’s brain erupted. Images slammed through his consciousness faster than he could make sense of them.
Damiz.
DamizDamizDamiz.
There were a thousand people, calling his name, at various times and places. Damiz. That had been his name, yes. That was his true name.
But the memories were fleeting and the images faded like wisps of mist. He clutched at them but they dissolved and disappeared from his mind.
Max shook his head and sagged. “No, I don’t. I can’t remember my past. I didn’t even know I was Niburian until recently. And I seem to have done this to myself. I don’t know why.”
Enki nodded.
“Do you know?” Max asked Enki hopefully.
Enki shook his head. “No. But there must be a reason for it. And it is beyond my wisdom—and my time. I dare not interfere. Already I have risked much in telling your true name. But it is clear that you are meant for the Pendant—and it is meant for you. So let it be. Receive the Pendant.”
Enki extended his hand through the Arch. The Pendant dangled from his fingers.
Max approached, hand outstretched.
“NOOO!” Casey howled. They all spun.
Casey backed away from Enki and the Pendant, as though he were an avatar of doom. But Enki didn’t flinch; nor did he withdraw his hand. Rather, he left it there, offering the Pendant freely, waiting patiently to see what would unfold.
“Don’t any of you see?” Casey said. “It’s all happening just like the writing on the wall said it would! This ends with Jadeth holding the Pendant! Walk away, Max. Just walk away right now! We’ll find some other way. Just please don’t take the Pendant from him!”
Max turned again to face Enki. Desperation clenched his features. “Enki. You have seen what happens next, right? When you made this place, when you wrote the Word-magic on the wall, you saw what happens next, right?”
Enki nodded. “That is so.”
“So is Casey right? Should I not take the Pendant? Should you keep it?”
Enki’s gaze bored into him from across the ages. “You have to make the choice. I offer this Pendant to you. But the decision to accept it must be yours. You have the power of free will. You must use it.”
Max considered this. Mr. E had told him to retrieve the Pendant. He had clearly sent them here for the sole purpose of getting it. And Mr. E had to know the same things this Enki in the past knew.
When it came down to it, Max found that he trusted Mr. E.
So Max made his choice.
He reached through the shimmering horizon of the Arch, across six thousand years, and took the Pendant from Enki.
As soon as it was in his grasp, Enki nodded a farewell. His image wavered for a moment, then faded and was gone. The Arch swam now in a black mist between the worlds.
Max turned to face Casey, Ian, and Sasha, holding the Pendant. “I think I made the right choice,” he said.
And then, the one voice they hoped they would never hear again slithered into their ears. A mellifluous voice. A voice weary with obsession.
“Oh, it was the right choice, Max. It was the only choice.”
Johnny Siren.
Chapter 23
The Tyranny of the Page
A howl of terror from Sasha. A bloodcurdling scream from Ian.
Fear splattered down Max’s spine.
Siren was just standing there. But that wasn’t the worst part. He had one arm locked around Casey and with his other hand, Siren held a stylized gentleman’s dagger at her throat. She sagged with despair. Already, the point of his blade had pierced her flesh slightly and a thin line of blood drizzled down her neck.
Siren wore a look of mad glee on his cracked and mottled face. “And now, finally, life eternal is mine. Come now, Max. Don’t make this difficult. Give me the Pendant.”
Max was rooted to the spot. White-hot terror coursed through his veins. His fingers tightened involuntarily around the Pendant’s chain.
“Siren! How—?” Ian choked.
“How am I not stopped in time?” Siren chuckled like a ghoul. He pulled back his sleeve. They all gasped: He wore a bracelet identical to the ones they were all wearing. “Mr. E is not the only one who knows about these. And I’ve learned the art of standing very still.”
“So back there . . . ,” Max said. “You were never—?”
Siren laughed. “No. Once you entered the Book, I donned my bracelet and waited for your return.”
“Auugh! I knew I should have kicked him!” Ian growled.
“But how did you find us?” Max asked.
“Ah, that was easy.
Little Miss Fwa. Her slave glyph, the Sunbolt on her hand, is more than just a tattoo.”
Max’s stomach dropped. It had been his decision to bring Sasha along—even though Casey had argued against it. And now, Siren was here, with the Pendant itself within his grasp, because of it.
Max couldn’t meet Casey’s gaze. Had he made all the wrong choices?
But Siren wasn’t finished gloating yet.
“I knew Mr. E would reveal the location of the Pendant to Max. But incompetent, moronic dolts that you are, you had no luck getting to Mr. E on your own! And I was running out of time. Jadeth was growing impatient. I couldn’t wait any longer.
“So I actually helped you miserable little cretins along!
“I let Sasha overhear me explain how to find Mr. E. I spelled it out over and over, just so that it sank into that dull little sparkler she calls a brain.
“Then I let Ace and Sasha see that I had captured you. That night I left Ace and Sasha unguarded. Sure enough, they stole the Book—and made a beeline right to you three.
“Of course, I had no idea that Ace would be the one killed by the wolves instead of Ian! That was a surprise, to be sure! But no matter: My purpose was accomplished.
“Now. Time is the thief, always the thief. The Pendant. Or this insipid little moppet dies.”
“Oh, c’mon. You’re not going to kill her,” Max said.
Even Siren blinked in surprise.
“Max Quick, you underestimate my determination to—”
“And you can cut it out with the little speeches,” Max said. “I’m not buying it. You’re just trying to scare us.”
“Max!” Casey cried out. “He’ll do it. I promise you, he will.”
“No, Casey, he won’t. I finally figured it out. And you both know why he won’t just as well as I do. I had to see you two together to be sure, but now I am certain.”
Ian and Sasha looked at Max in surprise.
“Go ahead and tell them, Casey,” Siren said. But Casey would not speak. “No? Well, then I shall. You see, little Miss Cole is in fact little Miss Cyranus.”
Everyone blinked in shock.
“Casey Cyranus is my daughter.”
Ian’s head spun. Casey was Siren’s daughter?
“How did you know?” Ian asked.
“The first time Casey got a look at Siren up close, I knew something was up,” Max said. “She recognized him. And then, when Siren saw her for the first time, he made some little comment that sounded like he knew her.”
We shall have to catch up later on, you and I . . .
“She’d seen pictures of her father, so she knew what he looked like, even if she didn’t know his name. So when she saw him up close, she knew: Jonathan Roseblood Cyranus—Johnny Siren—was her father.”
“And you don’t think I will kill my own daughter, Max?” Siren said. “What if you are wrong?”
“I’m not,” Max replied, secretly hoping he was right. “But that doesn’t matter. What does is this: I don’t give the Pendant to you, Siren. ‘The tyranny of the Page.’ Your favorite refrain. Or didn’t you bother to look at the Word-magic on the wall before you came in here?”
At that, fear skittered across Siren’s face. “What . . . ?” Apparently, Siren had missed it.
“It says I give the Pendant to Jadeth, not to you.”
“No . . . ,” Siren said, disbelieving. “That can’t be. She’s frozen. I made sure of it. She doesn’t have a bracelet.”
“It’s true.” Casey sobbed, “Max gives it to Jadeth. We saw it.”
Something about Casey’s despair hit home with Siren. He knew she was telling the truth, that she couldn’t possibly be faking this.
Then, Max’s intuition jumping, he said to Siren, “You didn’t know Jadeth would follow you here, did you?”
Now Siren was clearly nervous.
“She must have some safeguard against something like these bracelets happening to her. She’s coming. I promise you.”
Then Max drove the nail home: “You’re her slave, Siren. Didn’t you know that? Run here! Run there! Get me the Pendant! That’s all you are to her. That’s all you ever were.”
“Well said, child. Well said, indeed.”
Jadeth.
“This one could not have said it better.”
She was adorned in a gold robe, a red veil in her hair, baubles and trinkets of every kind hanging from her neck and ears. And although her voice was measured and collected, her eye was wet with madness.
She was followed by Philomen. He wore his usual cherubic blissful smile, but his gaze darted over the children as though they were poisonous vipers.
Siren turned even whiter than he already was.
A horde of centurions poured into the chamber. The sound of their gold-clad feet shuffling against stone was everywhere at once. They fanned out, only momentarily surprised by the gravity-shifts, and then filed into every nook and cranny of the chamber. They specifically took up positions in front of the Arches, blocking anyone from entering or exiting through them.
Mafdet entered, leering. He caught Max’s gaze and pantomimed clapping his hands together with a broad, wolfish grin.
Jadeth turned to Siren: “Thou thought thou couldst fool us. That thou wouldst claim the Pendant first and then ransom it for life eternal.” Jadeth’s face was set in a frown. “We are not so blithely led astray.
“Yet, Jonathan Roseblood Cyranus, despite all of this, thou hast at last fulfilled thy part of our bargain. And we gave our oath and our bond, which cannot be recalled. Thus, the prize we denied Gilgamesh, life eternal, shall be thine.”
Siren’s face lit up with what could only be described as pure joy.
“Siren,” Philomen hissed, “are these the children you spoke of?”
Siren nodded quickly, still stunned that after hundreds of years, he had achieved his aim at last. “Yes,” he said. “They are. Three are human, but one of them is Niburian. That one.” Siren pointed to Max, finger shaking. “The one holding the Pendant. His name is Max.”
Jadeth approached Max, bending to meet his gaze like he was an adorable puppy. “Max,” she mused, and her face twisted into a scowl. “An odd name for a god.”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not a god. And neither are you.”
Jadeth stood and backed away. “Well, thou art an insolent brat, god or no! Thou wilt be taught a lesson in manners!”
But Philomen was already at her ear, talking fast.
It apparently worked, because Jadeth became calm again as though she were a completely different person. “Come now, little Max,” she said sweetly. “Thou art one of us. We are thy true people, not these talking animals. These”—she swept her hand to indicate Ian, Sasha, and Casey—“these are our slaves.”
As Max weighed his options, a thought occurred to him: Why hadn’t Jadeth already ordered her centurions to wrestle him to the ground and take the Pendant from him?
What was she waiting for? After all, he had no Pocket-powers in here, he was just an ordinary kid.
The answer popped into his head: Jadeth was afraid he would use the Pendant on her!
Jadeth was still sweet-talking: “Thou art one of us, Max! Thou art so much greater, so much more!” She laughed lightheartedly: a gruesome sound. “But there is a weightier matter between us. A matter of Words, written upon a wall. Thou hast seen what happens here, in this chamber, what has to happen. Thou wilt give the Pendant to me. It is fated. There is no reason to delay any further.
“Give the Pendant to me.”
This was the moment.
If he were a sleeper agent of some kind, then this moment right now was when his true submerged personality would reassert itself. Max searched his mind, waiting for it to happen.
But he felt nothing—nothing at all.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “No, Jadeth,” he replied. “I won’t.”
Jadeth stared at him for a moment, baffled. But then she tried a new tack. “Well, perhaps thou wilt not. Bu
t what of thy friend Casey?”
“Me?” Casey wheezed, caught off guard. All eyes in the room turned toward her.
“Leave her alone,” Max growled. What did Jadeth want with Casey?
Jadeth walked over to Casey. She gently pulled Casey away from Siren; he complied with a mixture of fear and apprehension.
Jadeth gently smoothed out Casey’s rumpled hair and wiped the blood from her neck. “Yes, Casey. Thou watch me, wondering, Could I be like her? This is true, is it not?”
Casey tried to look away, but she was transfixed. “Yes. It is,” she replied in a small voice.
“Casey,” Jadeth whispered, gold eye sweeping over Casey in rapt approval, “thou has it within thee to be magnificent. Already, thou couldst be a radiant beauty, the one true gem amidst a sea of common, homely little nothings. Thou couldst be the girl all the other girls wished they were. They would all be reduced to shadows whenever thou walked into a room. But I could show thee so much more! This one could teach thee to become the woman thou hast always dreamed of becoming.”
“Me?” Casey breathed meekly, caught off guard by this offer. As she said this, Siren drew himself to his full height. A sort of wariness entered his gaze and he looked uncomfortable.
“Yes, thou.”
Casey’s gaze was filled with longing. She whispered in a small voice, “Nobody ever notices me when I walk into a room. I just stand in the corner and feel like I’m invisible.”
Jadeth’s eye glinted.
“That’s not true!” Ian shouted.
“Casey!” Max snapped. “Don’t listen to her! You know what she wants to do to the world . . .”
Jadeth gave a small laugh, waving her hand to dismiss Max’s words. “Boys such as these are nothing. They are afraid of what thou might become, Casey, and how they would feel about thee then. It is the secret fear of boys, it is why they pretend so hard that they don’t care. But believe me, they do. And when thou learnest how to use thy gifts, they will become the invisible ones.”
“Casey!” Sasha called out. “You’re better than this! Don’t . . .” Sasha swallowed and then finished her thought, “Don’t become something you’re not. Like I did with the Serps. Don’t make the same mistake!”