The Cypher

by Julian Rosado-Machain

  Henri cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath. Whatever half-breed meant had really angered him.

  “I’ll be here,” Henri said and crouched on the ground, transforming into the smaller immobile statue that he usually adopted when he was at the entrance of the mansion.

  The Fauns uncrossed their lances and the inner door opened revealing a cave full of small clay buildings and fluorescent vegetation. Their tunnel entrance was located on a ledge above the main floor of the cave. A couple of hanging bridges led from their ledge to another on the far side of the cave and a waterfall opened directly from a tunnel on the opposite wall forming a river that crossed through the city and ended in a lake surrounded by little clay houses. The city was illuminated from the ceiling by hanging circles of fluorescent lights and reflectors that hung in concentric circles from the roof.

  It was the largest cave Thomas had seen, but it was still small compared to the library.

  “Welcome to Hussahassalin, underground dwelling of the Hassa clan Fauns.” Tony led them into the city.

  Fauns filled the city streets. Without their armor and helmets they resembled white-tailed deer. Most of them jumped to and fro, but the fauns with the largest antlers walked slowly and deliberately, their heads high. They had painted designs on their cheeks and colored rocks adorning their antlers. Some wore elaborate clothing like in movies about the old courts in France and England, but most of them wore simple vests and coats. As they walked through town, fauns would stop and exchange words to one another, and throw curious looks at them, their little white tails wiggling as they spoke in their sibilant tongue.

  “They might look cute,” Tony whispered, “but these guys can really mess you up if they want to.”

  They entered the largest building at the center of the city unopposed by the guards stationed there. A faun wearing a purple and green vest approached them and exchanged words with Tony. The faun took a closer look at Thomas, sniffing him and jumped away.

  “He’s Sunassoo, the chief’s chamberlain. Let’s follow him and remember that these guys love big words,” Tony said.

  Sunassoo entered a large hall. Standing by a wooden throne was an older faun with large antlers adorned with crisscrossing chains of gold.

  “Man friend, Chief Husseha.” Tony bowed and Bolswaithe and Thomas followed his example. “I bring before you, Thomas, sign reader, and Bolswaithe, dutiful protector. Envoys sent to help you by Fae friend, Chief Franco.”

  The chief nodded curtly. “Peace to you, Tony, Fae friend,” he said in English. His voice seemed to overlap itself as he spoke. “And welcome to Hussahassalin. May your coming bring us much needed succor.”

  Tony took a step back and nodded at Thomas. Apparently, it was his turn to talk.

  Thomas cleared his throat and extended his hand. “How can I be of service, um, Chief Husseha? I will do my best to give you and your city um, comfort and uh… aid in this great stressing… ” Tony rubbed his eyes for Thomas to see. “Crossroads? Um, moments of stress.” He finished with a reverence.

  The chief’s long tongue wetted his nose. “You seem very young in your trade, sign reader, and not very well versed in old form speech. Talk as you feel comfortable. My people have had to adapt to the human world or be extinguished.”

  Thomas lowered his hand. “I’ll help you any way I can, Chief Husseha.”

  “It’s my children,” Husseha said. “Follow me.”

  They followed the faun to a circular room contiguous to the throne hall.

  “Stressful moments of stress?” Tony whispered to Thomas with a little grin. Thomas hunched his shoulders.

  The circular room was probably a place to hold conferences or balls, but all entrances except for one had been walled with a mixture of clay, rocks, and flowers.

  Three young fauns were walking the inner perimeter separated a few feet from each other. Their hands and legs were covered in caked mud, and their eyes were disturbingly white with an eerie glow. They gazed intently at the center of the room.

  The fauns had created mounds, valleys, and spires of clay and mud that rose almost to Thomas’s height.

  “My sons began to work five days ago,” the Chief said. “They collected mud, clay, rocks, and flowers by night and they built this…” He extended his hand to the landscape. “They haven’t rested, eaten, or drank since they began, and I fear for their health. That’s why I called the Guardians.”

  Thomas approached one of the fauns and passed his hand in front of his eyes. There wasn’t even a blink.

  “You think they’ve finished?” Thomas asked.

  “They stopped working a couple of hours ago. They’re just circling it now, and it’s the first time they’ve done that during the five days.”

  Thomas let the fauns continue their walk and entered their construct taking care not to step on anything. He searched for a word or a message, but nothing appeared readable in any language. He crawled through the inside of the arches and closed his eyes as he passed his fingers on the clay structures, trying to divine by touch what his eyes couldn’t find.

  An hour went by, then two. The fauns continued their unrelenting pace and Thomas had walked the perimeter with them, stood on all sides, crouched, and even requested a stair to look at the structure from a higher position. The only thing he got was a headache that grew in intensity with the frustration he felt.

  He was going through the center of the structure when the Chief offered him some water. “You might want to rest a little, sign reader.”

  Thomas sat down. The mud covering the floor felt cool through his jeans.

  The sounds of the town reached him through the walls of the building. He checked his watch: it was 10:39 p.m. but Hussahassalin seemed to be active. He heard peels of laughter coming from baby fauns.

  He was tired, but he promised himself that he wouldn’t stop until he cracked the code.

  He looked at the first of the fauns. How could they keep walking like that? On and on, in a trance that not even hunger or thirst could break. If he didn’t crack the code they would surely die.

  Thomas was looking directly at the fauns’ white eyes when the leading faun walked behind a clay mound on the outside of the structure. An image formed in Thomas’s mind for just a second.

  He centered his eyes on the second faun as he walked through the same structure. Another image formed in his head, a flash of something, and he stood up.

  “What is it?” Chief Husseha asked from the side of the structure. Thomas felt that he was finally onto something.

  “Was it day or night when they built this?” Thomas asked.

  “Day time,” the Chief answered. “They collected the things to build at night.”

  “So they should be collecting things right now to finish it?”

  “No,” the Chief answered. “It is daytime for us. Our days are opposite of those on the outside world. We prefer it that way in order for us to roam outside if we need to.”

  The town was illuminated by electric lights; huge reflectors ringed the ceiling of the cave. Thomas knew for sure that the message was supposed to be read in darkness.

  The third faun walked behind the mound and Thomas felt a jolt course through his body. “Turn off the lights!” he told the Chief. “All the lights!”

  Chief Husseha let out a sibilant yell and one by one the electric lights illuminating the city blinked out.

  The only light left was the eerie glow of the circling fauns and Thomas stood at the center of the structure before centering his gaze at the first faun.

  Thomas felt as if a jolt of electricity had entered his brain. There was a bridge, a connection forming between the faun and him, and he needed to let go of his fear to attain it.

  The faun crossed behind a spire. As the light came from the faun’s body it formed a silhouette against the borders of the spire, and an image began to form in Thomas’s mind. He felt his field of vision opening as he encompassed the three fauns. They incessantly walked, crossed behind
spires and mounds, and the image became clearer. Thomas began to hover a few inches from the ground as he followed the fauns’ dance across the structure.

  The fauns began to quicken their pace and they jumped now and then as if in a choreographed dance. The flashes in Thomas’s mind came faster and faster, and he felt as if his body was left behind in that chamber while his mind traveled to another place.

  The fauns became just a blur and Thomas finally understood the hidden message in the structure.

  The world around him disappeared.

  He was floating over a sea made of the purest gold – the waves slowly changed form and the glaring sun rose from the horizon. The sea became incandescent as it reflected the sunrays, and Thomas felt his face and arms burning and catching fire.

  He yelled in pain and the image disappeared.

  He fell at the center of the hall and the lights turned on.

  “Are you all right?” Bolswaithe walked through the clay mounds breaking them in his haste to reach Thomas.

  “I’m okay,” he muttered. “I cracked it. I must have cracked it.”

  “The less people that know that the better,” Bolswaithe whispered helping him up.

  “Thank you, sign reader,” Chief Husseha said. “You have my eternal gratitude.” The Chief was holding one of his children by the arms. The fauns had collapsed of exhaustion and guards were coming in the hall with food and water for them.

  Thomas saw with relief that their eyes were normal again.

  “So we are done with this?” Tony asked and Thomas nodded. “You’re done with this, Chief?”

  “I don’t want to see it ever again,” Chief Husseha said.

  Tony and the Faun Guards began to destroy and tear down the clay construct.

  A Battle in Central Park

  Chief Husseha had unraveled a golden chain from his antlers and gave it to Thomas as a token of appreciation. The chain was tightly woven and on each link was an inscription. Some were names, possibly of past Chiefs of the fauns, and there were dates and words like “Prosperity,” “Peace,” and “Strength.”

  The Chief led Thomas and his group to the end of the tunnel. When they reached the entrance, he bowed. Bella woke up Mario with a kick and they began to walk toward their cars.

  “I know I’m not supposed to ask…” Tony approached Thomas as soon as they left the underground city. “But what’d you find out?”

  “You’re not supposed to ask,” Thomas said with a smirk. Tony had thrown away the little yellow cocktail sword and was now chewing on a pink one. “And I’m not supposed to tell.”

  “Okay,” Tony answered, “be that way.” He playfully punched Thomas on the arm.

  They kept on walking and came to a clearing. It was hard to believe that such a wild-looking forest remained in the center of Manhattan.

  “I always thought fauns were half-human and half-sheep,” Thomas said breaking the silence.

  “Half goat you mean. Those are Satyrs, and they are a whole different ballgame.” Tony used a dead bush to clean the tracks they’d made toward Hussahassalin. “The Chief was correct about you, wasn’t he?”

  “What do you mean?” Thomas became a little defensive.

  “You have a black tag but you don’t know how to use old form speech or faun taxonomy. I bet you haven’t even been to the Crypto Zoo.”

  “That’s enough Mr. Della Francesca,” Bolswaithe interceded. “And I will remind you that you’re a level red operative.”

  Tony backed up raising his arms. “No harm intended,” he said. “Just making conversation. Right, kid? Anyway,” he quickly changed the subject, “anyone hungry? I know this little pizza place right outside the…”

  And then there was silence. Absolute silence. It was as if they had walked into a void, not even the wind through the trees or leaves gave off any sound.

  Bella pulled Thomas by the arm and threw him into the protective circle the watchmen had formed. Their flashlights illuminated the surrounding bushes. Bolswaithe pointed at Thomas’s watch. Words began to appear on the screen.

  “Magic. Keep on the center.”

  Thomas wished he had been more adept at texting; the little keyboard felt clumsy under his fingers.

  A flash of light came from his left and he saw a soldier clad in golden armor being flung back by Bella’s shotgun discharge. Her second barrel went off but the pellets hung in mid-air and they were harmlessly flung aside by a second warrior as he jumped to wrestle with Bella.

  Everything happened in an instant. Figures clad in white and golden armor jumped from the bushes. The flashlights had no effect on the warriors, but they looked human.

  Each of the men in Tony’s team was already in a wrestling match with at least one assailant. Bolswaithe was being pinned to the ground by five soldiers after he easily swatted away the first two.

  Henri grabbed Thomas and opened his wings, trying to fly away with him, but golden bolas latched onto his legs. A ripple of energy coursed through the Grotesque and he released Thomas before falling to the ground.

  A translucent sphere formed around Thomas. Sound was restored and a young man entered the sphere. Thomas recognized him from the picture in the mansion’s hall. He was wearing golden armor, a red cape and a golden circlet on his head. He was the king of the Elves, Seryaan, the name jumped in his mind.

  He was supposed to be a Guardians Inc. ally. Why was he attacking them?

  Thomas didn’t wait. He jumped at the King and released a round kick to the head. Being a red belt, he knew that the kick was devastating if delivered correctly, and he had the years of practice to back up his attack.

  The King had no time to move away and Thomas impacted the side of his face right at the mandible.

  It felt as if he had struck a wall of concrete. Thomas’s leg bounced off from the King’s head and he used the momentum to deliver a round kick to the stomach.

  King Seryaan grabbed Thomas’s foot with one hand and pushed with enough strength to throw him a couple of feet back.

  Before Thomas could prepare another attack, the King raised a hand and said something in a strange language. Suddenly, Thomas’s body became rigid. The King then circled around Thomas, sizing him up.

  “So young,” the King said. He didn’t sound threatening, but he didn’t need to. Thomas was at his complete mercy. “What was Franco thinking when he let you about without a proper escort?”

  “I was expecting you to come out from your seclusion, King Seryaan,” Doctor Franco said as he entered the sphere. “Now, be as kind as to release my men.”

  “A decoy?” the King answered as he walked toward the doctor. “Some might find that a little callous.” The King waved a hand as he pronounced a word and the sphere dissolved. Thomas regained control of his body and a cautionary glance from the Doctor stopped him from attacking the King. He crouched to help Henri take the golden bolas from his legs. Tony and his teammates were released and the armored soldiers helped Bolswaithe from the ground. Bella and Tony kept cursing in Italian and the Doctor raised his cane to silence them.

  “A simple audience request would have sufficed,” the King said.

  “A simple audience would’ve given us a simple answer. I needed to see if you are still committed enough to our alliance,” the Doctor said.

  “The pillars are stirring.” King Seryaan said his gaze on the Doctor. “I need to be in Ukiah, not playing games with you.”

  “This is Thomas Byrne, the Cypher,” the Doctor said pointing at Thomas, “and we need your help if we want to find the Book.”

  The King surveyed Thomas, “This age’s Cypher,” he said, “Did you see the Oracle’s light?” he asked him directly. “Did you sense the trail?”

  Thomas paused, the Doctor nodded for him to answer.

  “Yes,” Thomas said. “I did.”

  The King turned towards the doctor after a few seconds. “Then the Cypher needs a spell weaver of royal blood with him and, I don’t see my aunt around,” the King said. “
Where’s Tasha?”

  Thomas immediately looked up and spoke without meaning to. “Tasha’s your aunt?” King Seryaan looked like he was in his mid-twenties at the most. His blond hair reached almost to his shoulders and his skin was unblemished like Tasha’s. His demeanor on the other hand, was that of an old man.

  A powerful old man, used to wielding authority.

  The King turned toward him. “So, you’ve met her.”

  “Yes,” Thomas answered as Tony slowly walked behind the King.

  “And what do you think about her?” The King crossed his hands behind his back. Thomas watched as Tony made a slicing gesture at his neck.

  “She’s intelligent.”

  “Yes, and?”

  Tony was gesturing with his hands above his mouth for Thomas to shut up.

  “Courteous, umm…”

  “Beautiful?” King Seryaan asked and Tony was pulling on an imaginary rope by his neck.

  “Very beautiful,” Thomas muttered and Tony cringed behind him.

  “I see.” The King pursed his lips. “Where is she?” he asked the Doctor.

  “She’s on assignment.” The Doctor extended a hand. “We need to discuss something in private.” He led the King away and Tony took the opportunity to approach.

  “Come on kid, you never tell anyone that you find their relative beautiful. Never, believe me. ‘Specially a King.”

  “How can Tasha be his aunt? That guy’s like twenty years old!”

  “They’re elves,” Henri whispered. “They look the age they want to.”

  “Yeah kid, Tasha’s probably a thousand years old for all we know,” Tony said.

  “Three thousand,” Henri corrected, “King Seryaan is two-and-a-half at least.”

  “There you go,” Tony said.

  “Three thousand years old?” Thomas asked in disbelief. He was interrupted by King Seryaan and Doctor Franco arguing.

  “Don’t take that tone with me Franco!” The King’s eyes brightened for a second. “You’re not Churchill!” he yelled.

  Dr. Franco kept on talking and they looked at Thomas.