“You mean he sort of awakens them?” Will asked.
“The demon’s power derives from an absence of faith and the acceptance of darkness. When the faith of a people recedes, its power grows. Once the demon is strong enough, it can do incredible damage. Raising the Fomorii is but a small part of what the beasts are capable of. My father thought he had contained the seven major demons—he thought the relics and the Brethren—” She sighed and frowned at the thought. “Ah, well, even the prophecy speaks of the demons rising again….”
Will gazed out at the raging waters and into the deep darkness he had unwittingly unleashed. He feared what awaited them at Dismal Shoals. In his mind’s eye he kept seeing Balor, huge and menacing, seven heads writhing in all directions, tentacles thick as pillars swinging toward him. Then he recalled the voice—the one that had given him such hope.
“Aunt Lucille,” Will croaked, coming back to the present, “when I was under the mantle, the one that belonged to Elijah—I heard a voice. It was so clear and kind. It said, ‘Believe and keep your heart pure and I shall be at your right hand always. Will you heed my words? Will you heed my words?’ ”
“That’s what you were saying yes to?”
“Yeah. But I’m not even sure what his words are.”
“I know you’re not.”
“Aunt Lucille, what are we supposed to do?” Will whimpered. “I mean—what is our game plan?”
“I don’t really know, dear. But you will.” Aunt Lucille’s eyes sparkled even in the gloom of the storm. She wriggled an arm out of her raincoat and removed the fabric satchel hanging from her shoulder. She handed it to Will. “This contains the Book of Prophecy that your great-grandfather entrusted to my care. Anyone can read the inscription on the cover. It speaks of a very special person, a chosen one, who will do battle with the demons. It also states that only the chosen one can read the entire prophecy. There are seven locks on the side of the book. If the locks open for you, Will, then you are the chosen one.”
Will scrunched up his face and puckered his lips. “The book is going to tell me what to do?”
“The book will prepare you for what you must do. Words have particular power, Will. Men and women have died to protect these words—to ensure that they reach your eyes.”
“But it’s just a book.”
“Then like any book, it contains special words for you alone. They will open to you just when you need them most—when you are ready for them. Heed those words.” She shoved him toward the door in the middle of the boat and shouted, “Take the book to the cabin below, and after you read it, put it in your backpack. Then return to me. Go. Now.”
Will stared at the rough black satchel in his hand. It was heavy. Through the fabric he could feel the gnarled metal locks along the book’s edge. Without another word he opened the maple door to the lower cabin and ran down the ladder. He flipped on the hurricane lamps below and placed the satchel on the rich lacquered table in the center of the cabin.
Will slowly shook the thick volume from the cloth bag onto the table. He was startled by the craftsmanship of the book. The curled metalwork on the cover shimmered. The locks on the right side of the volume were shaped like claws, each one distinct from the others. The first had scales and long talons that reached from the back cover to the front. The scaled lock held the entire volume shut. The next lock down looked like an animal’s paw, its extremities nestled inside the book. A clasp fashioned into the claw of a rooster followed. The digits of the successive locks were shoved between pages, each one a little closer to the back cover.
Will’s hands hovered over the ornate prophecy, as if being warmed by its power. The slap of the waves on all sides and the thunder spooked him. He was afraid to touch the olive-colored volume, so he began to read the inscription on the cover, folding his hands behind his back. Will’s mouth slackened as his eyes scanned the golden letters.
The Prophecy of Abbot Anthony the Wise
The Lord came to me upon the waters and said:
“Take thee a great book and write upon it as I instruct thee.”
My spirit trembled, for the visions He placed in my head frightened me.
Still, I write in obedience:
In those days, when the people have grown hard of heart and belief has dwindled;
when wickedness has become commonplace; and the Brethren have broken their unity;
then shall I raise up a young one to lead them.
He shall be the firstborn of the root of Wilder.
He shall have the sight of the angels
and perceive darkness from light.
Behold, when his time is ripe, he shall come riding on a colt, the foal of a donkey, and his blood shall spill.
This shall be the sign that the battle is near
and all must prepare.
For in those days the beasts shall rise from the pit
to test my people.
Truth shall go further away while falsehood and darkness
draw near.
The inhabitants of the land shall multiply evils
and the Sinestri shall deceive many.
But in those days of tribulation and darkness,
I shall pour out my Spirit upon all flesh; sons and daughters shall dream vivid dreams and sing angelic songs;
the young shall heal and see visions; and their elders shall prophesy and make war on the foul beasts.
Behold, my chosen, the firstborn of the house of Wilder,
will lay hands upon this great book,
and its seven locks shall be opened to him alone.
This too shall be a sign.
These visions shall prepare him for all he must endure,
confront, and conquer. For without him, there can be no victory for the Brethren or for my people.
“Beasts shall rise from the pit”?…“Days of tribulation and darkness”? How do you make war on “foul beasts”? Will wondered. Can I really be the chosen one? The one to lead them?…That could be kind of cool. Good thing I got on that donkey….But who are the Brethren? And what am I supposed to do about them?
Will yearned to read the rest of the prophecy. The boat bumped up and down suddenly, knocking him against the hull. He grabbed the brass rail that surrounded the cabin to steady himself and straightened his pith helmet. Feeling a little queasy, he extended his hands to take hold of the Book of Prophecy and to see if the lock would open to his touch.
Simon screamed his head off at the approach of the Bottom Dweller making circles in the oily pool of the third chamber. The creature swam very near the boys’ platform, eyeing them like the last two pieces of shrimp on an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“It’s coming! It’s coming! Aahhhhahhhhhh,” Simon caterwauled.
Across the pool, Mrs. Wilder tried to calm the boys through the golden grille of the Keep. “Get away from that—that animal. I’ll try to distract it.”
She fretfully searched the Keep for something to throw at the beast. But loud scraping and hissing noises forced her back to the golden bars. The sounds appeared to be coming from the other side of the inscribed black granite slab in the Keep. She pressed her face against the bars, trying to find an angle that would afford her a view of whatever was on the flip side of the slab.
“Oh my—” Deborah caught sight of the second Bottom Dweller. It was only a few feet away from her, wrapped around the Jesus statue on the other side of the grate. The creature saw her as well. It stretched upward, sticking its snout through the bars above the granite slab. Spooked, Marin and Leo backed out of the Keep into the church, opting to watch the proceedings through the open doorway.
“Stay in the church, kids,” Deborah barked, hunting desperately for anything to distract the Bottom Dwellers. That’s when she spotted the cutout near the golden door.
With an armful of brass keys, she rushed back to the grate. Deborah wildly pitched the keys across the water at the creature stalking Simon and Andrew. She quickly got its attention. From the oily soup, the
Bottom Dweller nearer the boys turned its snout to Deborah and hissed.
“You big ugly thing, come over here.” She hurled another key, pegging the floating Bottom Dweller on its head.
“Yee-haaa,” Deborah yelped with pride. “Guys, you’ve got to get away from these crocodile things. Hide in those tunnels behind you while I distract him.”
“We just came out of that chamber, Mrs. Wilder. It’s flooded,” Simon explained. “There is only one little ledge in that chamber, and if it chases after us—AAAH—”
Andrew put a hand over Simon’s mouth, muffling the scream. “What if we go back in there? What did the notebook say about the tunnels?” Andrew started to remove his hand from Simon’s face. “No screams.”
Simon nodded.
“I obviously don’t have a copy of the notebook,” Simon heaved. “This will be purely from memory. It said…” Simon closed his eyes, elevating his chin. Then, rapid-fire, he pronounced, “ ‘Enter by the narrow gate, for the wide gate brings death and pain.’ That’s right. That’s it exactly.”
“Thank you, Googleman.”
“What did you call me?”
“Goog— Never mind. Miz Wilder’s runnin’ out of keys. Get in the hole!”
“I refuse to go back into that dark tunnel,” Simon said.
“Then you’re going to be swimming in the dark tunnel of that thing’s belly.” He pointed to the approaching Bottom Dweller in the pool.
Deborah Wilder threw the last of her keys with more passion than precision. But the creature was no longer paying the keys any attention. It was focused on the boys.
“Give me your backpack,” Andrew demanded.
Simon was too frightened to resist. Andrew pushed Simon toward the tunnel they had passed through earlier, the one with the rocks and stones bulging from the walls.
“Get in,” Andrew insisted.
“It will come after us!”
“The tunnel is too tight for it to pass through.”
“And what if it does pass through?” Simon started to make his shriek face.
“Don’t scream! If the reptile comes our way, I’ll shove the backpacks at him.”
Simon lifted an eyebrow. “You’re going to choke the gator monster with our backpacks? That’s your plan?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
The Bottom Dweller’s claws ripped into the edge of their stone platform. It was coming out of the pool for a visit.
“Get in the hole. Get in the hole now!” Andrew shoved his smaller friend into the slit in the wall. He then squeezed himself in, holding the two backpacks with his left hand.
On the other side of the pool, Deborah staggered back from the grate. The Bottom Dweller closest to her had climbed up the reverse side of the grille and was now perched directly in front of her. It jammed its muzzle through the bars, snapping its serrated teeth together and hissing. Though the Dweller’s body couldn’t pass through the bars, its five-foot razor-tipped tail stabbed the air, trying to spear the woman.
“You might have been right about this, moron,” Simon kindly observed as he and Andrew moved halfway through the tunnel. He pressed the light on his wristwatch, illuminating his narrow face in a greenish glow. “If the gator monster goes into the other tunnel—the ‘wide gate’—it could experience ‘death and pain.’ That’s what Will’s great-grandfather’s instructions said, anyway: ‘the wide gate brings death and pain.’ On the other hand, if it follows us…”
Growls and a clawing sound like a chisel cutting away stone filled the tunnel.
“We got the other hand! Or the other claw!” The light on Simon’s wristwatch went out. “Aaaaahhahhahhhhhh!”
“Put the geeky light back on, would ya? I can’t see this thing,” Andrew demanded.
The snarling and clawing sounds moved ever closer. Simon pressed the two buttons on his wristwatch and shone a bright light down the cramped corridor. The head of the Bottom Dweller thrashed just three feet from them. Simon renewed his screams.
“Shut it,” Andrew said, nudging Simon. “It’s stuck in the tunnel! It can’t move.”
Simon and Andrew sidestepped deeper into the passage, away from the creature’s cruel jaws and bad breath.
The Bottom Dweller, in seeming frustration, started to retreat. It wriggled violently, backing its body out of the tight tunnel.
“What’s it doing?” Simon asked.
“Leaving, I think.”
Behind the bars of the Keep, Deborah Wilder kept trying to get a clear visual of what was happening inside the boys’ tunnel. But each time she moved to a new location, the Bottom Dweller would crawl along the bars and block her view. Its hisses now seemed like chortling to her.
Marin stuck her head in the golden doorway and asked, “Where is the boys, Mommy?”
“They’re in that tunnel and I’m worried because the other croc thing followed them,” Deborah said, trying to see around the dangling Bottom Dweller. “Oh wait, it’s coming out. The croc thing’s tail is coming back out!”
Sure enough, the Bottom Dweller pursuing Andrew and Simon exited their tunnel. Its head swiped side to side in apparent anger. Then it quickly slithered inside the wider tunnel to the right. Within moments of entering the tunnel, a terrible grinding sound greeted the Bottom Dweller. It clawed at the walls, attempting to back out, but it was too late. The smooth walls pressed in on the creature, smashing its body in the darkness.
From across the pool, Deborah could see only the flailing backside of the beast. Its bloating tail stiffened. The razor-sharp tip pointed straight up in the air before drooping lifelessly onto the platform.
“I think the croc thing got crushed,” Deborah said, still trying to see clearly. The Bottom Dweller in front of her, clutching the grate, swung its head around and let loose a ferocious screech. “Eeeeeeeeaaaaaaaah.”
Marin covered her ears at the doorway, while Deb rushed to comfort her. Leo could not have been less concerned. The boy sat on the floor of the church sanctuary, a large Bible propped open on his knees. He leafed through the book with great intensity.
“Leo, what are you doing?” Deborah asked from the doorway.
“Trying to find the Second Book of Kings,” he said, his attention never leaving the pages. He bent his head low and eyed his mother over the top of his glasses. “Remember Mr. Valens told me about Elijah’s mantle? He said there was a story in the Second Book of Kings.”
Deborah helped him find the book in the Old Testament. “You and Marin stay out here for now. I’ve got to go check on Andrew and Simon.”
“Wait, Mom, this is kind of neat,” Leo said. His finger pointed to a passage in the book, the mantle bundled under his arm. “The Prophet Elijah hit the water of the river Jordan with his mantle, and the water split. Then, after he goes up to heaven, this other guy, Elisha, gets the mantle. So he tries to do the same thing. He whacks the water with the coat, and it says here: ‘the waters were not divided. And he said: Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah? And he struck the waters and they were divided, hither and thither.’ Wow.” Leo’s eyes were dilated in wonder.
“Sweetie, that’s fascinating, but I have to make sure Andrew and Simon are okay.” She kissed him on the head and dashed into the Keep.
Looking down at her brother, Marin broke the silence. “The big lizard is really mean.”
“I don’t remember asking you if the lizard was mean,” Leo muttered, continuing to read the Bible.
Marin quietly slipped off one of her flats, picked the shoe up, and whacked Leo over the head with it. “The lizard’s not the only one who is mean!”
“I’m telling Mom, Marin. I am,” Leo threatened. But a racket on the other side of the golden doorway startled both kids. It sounded as if the metal bars were being struck by a hammer. Moving into the doorway, the kids saw Deborah Wilder standing in the middle of the Keep, her arms wide. Before her, on the other side of the grate, swinging from the bars like a wild baboon, the Bottom Dweller screeched angrily. It repeatedly
slashed its claws along the bars as if trying to rip them open.
“Stay back, kids,” Deb said, facing the beast. “I don’t think it can get in here. At least, I hope it can’t.”
“That lizard is mean,” Leo admitted, the Bible under one arm, the mantle under the other.
“Told ya so.” Marin closed her eyes and nodded with some satisfaction.
“I think we’re safe,” Deborah assured the kids. “Will said the only way to get in here was to turn the statue of St. Thomas around. I doubt if the croc thing will be able to figure that out. I’m more worried about Simon and Andrew right now.”
The Bottom Dweller dropped from the grate, out of sight behind the rounded black granite slab.
Deborah called to the boys across the water. Andrew tenuously stuck his head out of the narrow tunnel. “We’re okay, Miz W—” Suddenly, strawberry blotches started to appear on Andrew’s cheeks. An uncommon look of fear washed over his face. “Mrs. Wilder, the reptile—the monster—it’s standing on its back feet. It’s turning the statue of St. Thomas around!”
Simon popped his head out of the tunnel at that moment. He could muster only one reaction: “Aaaaahahhahhaahahhhaaaaaa!” He immediately retreated into the dark hole. “They understand us. They have intelligence. That’s it, we’re gator grub—we’re doomed!” Simon’s squeaky voice echoed from the darkness.
In the Keep, Mrs. Wilder called Leo and Marin to her side. “Get on the black platform here. Quickly.” The children and Deborah stood flat against the inscribed slab. They could hear the Bottom Dweller scratching away on the other side. A pronounced click reverberated through the black disk beneath their feet.
“Mrs. Wilder, he—it—turned the statue to the right,” Andrew reported. “That’s what Will did to make the platform spin. The reptile’s coming your way!”
Seconds later, Deborah, Marin, Leo, and his Bible were facing the pool. The Bottom Dweller had switched places with them. Marin clung to her mother, terrified. Leo could hardly believe that he was now inside the chamber with Simon and Andrew. “This is so cool!” he exclaimed.
Will Wilder Page 17