by Roy Huff
“You will not be able to use the portal on the way back. Once you find what you are looking for, you will need to travel several days to the Deep Woods before you can return, so you must hurry.”
The Keeper then ushered them through the portal into the center of Brackenbone. Upon their arrival, several hundred Ubaloo greeted them and introduced themselves. The Fron themselves were short, but the Ubaloo, a noble race of creatures who resided in Brackenbone, stood a mere one foot tall, which made the Fron giants among them. Nevertheless, the Ubaloo were strong and brave, and like all of the inhabitants of the eight surrounding lands of Everville, they were good-natured and eager to help.
“This way,” said an Ubaloo. “The point of origin is hidden in the walls of Vermogen. We’re not far. I’m Asher, by the way. This is Faine, and Felix is over there riding the back of Grenmar.”
“All right then, Asher,” Sako replied. “Let’s get moving.”
The Ubaloo led the way, moving with remarkable swiftness, almost like a herd of small animals. The contingent of Fron followed right behind, and the marmooks hopped along between them with facial expressions that were in an almost perpetual state of excitement and glee; their flopping ears accompanied them for the ride.
CHAPTER 2:
THE WRECKAGE
Back at the university, Owen Sage stepped out of his dorm room and glanced across the debris-strewn campus. He stood there motionless, then gazed somewhere off in the distance. The intense training for the Roundabout had added a few pounds of muscle to his average-looking physique, but his poor posture, untidy appearance, and distraught look made him appear lost and fatigued.
As Owen walked further onto the grass, a pungent odor that had engulfed the courtyard made its presence known and shook him from his daze. The odor had hints of sewage, burnt plastic, and a combination of several other unpleasant smells, but neither the smell nor the sight of the destruction were able to hold Owen’s attention and he became transfixed on the thoughts that had been swirling around in his head since his recent battle and the revelation of Dante’s current plight.
He walked back to his room and sat down on the corner of his bed. It wasn’t until Anika’s arrival that he was able to break free from the mental shackles that had held him hostage all that morning. Even then, Owen found it difficult to focus until they reached Dante’s hospital room later in the day.
A while later, as they stood by the side of Dante’s bed, all Owen could think about was what Dante might be going through and what sort of miracle would be needed in order to save him from his current predicament. Owen had no doubt, however, that Them had been devising a scheme to replenish the losses inflicted by the Fron army and were preparing for an invasion of the surrounding lands of Everville. Regardless of the devious machinations of Them, Owen’s main concern remained finding a solution to keep Dante from suffering the misfortune of remaining comatose the rest of his life, just like the others who had overexerted themselves in the battle against Them across the vast expanse of time and space.
“Owen, we gotta save him. You heard what Cleophas said. None of the others who lost consciousness like this ever came out of it. This is just too much. I mean, why us? Why do we have to do deal with all of this crap in the first place? If Dante doesn’t wake up, I just don’t know how I’m gonna handle it.”
Owen sighed in frustration. He was wearing the same long-sleeve, button-down shirt from the night before, and hadn’t shaved in the last week. A patchy light-brown beard had started to grow on his face, and with all that had been going on over the last couple of months, he hadn’t taken the time to cut his hair, which had now grown to a length that was an unsightly in-between stage.
Owen looked at Anika and said, “There must be a way. I feel like we’re losing time, but I just can’t think straight right now. The best thing that we can do at the moment is just go and get some rest. We’re no use to Dante all tired and scatterbrained. We need to recharge, then meet up with Cleophas and the others when we’re more focused.”
Anika looked down at Dante. Water covered her piercing hazel eyes, and a persistent stream of tears had drenched her white blouse, plastering it to her skin. She looked up and turned to Owen; the quivering in her eyes had been replaced by a focused anger and hatred.
“Those things did this to Dante. I swear I’m going to kill Them. We need to find Them and kill Them!”
“We will stop Them, Anika. I promise you that much.”
Owen felt the same anger and sadness as Anika, but he knew that giving in to his rage would cloud his judgment. Now was not the time, however, to mention it, so he allowed himself a moment to share the pain.
“Anika, after I get some rest I think I should go back to Everville. Maybe The Keeper has some ideas on how to help Dante. I don’t know how much Cleophas or Avery can help, but The Keeper must know a little about what’s going on.”
“You’re probably right. The Keeper’s gotta know something,” Anika said with a determined voice.
Anika and Owen weren’t the only ones struggling with an apparent tragedy. Around the same time, Zee was at home mourning over the loss of his father, Professor Samil.
“I don’t understand this, Drusilla. I mean, what happened? The doctor said it was natural causes, but that just doesn’t seem possible. He’s not that old, at least not old enough to keel over for no apparent reason.”
Zee’s voice trembled as he spoke, and the solitary tear that he had been fighting to hold back finally won out.
“I’m as confused as you are, Zee. It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe we should start by looking around the estate for some clues. He was lying next to that painting when he died. There’s gotta be some kinda connection.”
Zee sat there on the antique handcrafted armchair, motionless and unresponsive for a few moments, then he broke his silence.
“I’m not sure what to think, but maybe it’s all connected. My father always told me that these walls were special, and that everything he did, he did for a reason. He was so protective of his things, the paintings especially. A couple of times I watched him without him noticing that I was there. I could have sworn I saw the painting change, and he—he talked to it, like it was talking back to him or something.”
“Well, Zee, I think we need to inspect the paintings a little closer, and for that matter, anything else that might lead us to the truth. I think the gallery is probably a good place to start. I know you’ve walked this place a thousand times over, but maybe there’s something you missed. Maybe if you think hard enough or look around a bit, you might remember something else.”
Before they had an opportunity to discuss the topic any further, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Startled, they looked at each other, as if acknowledging with their eyes that they weren’t expecting any company. Zee let out a faint sigh, then he reluctantly stood up and walked to open the door.
Zee opened the door and inspected the man standing in front of him. The gentlemen looked like a professional salesman, balding, clean-shaven, and dressed in an expensive black suit and tie. He was also short and noticeably overweight.
“I’m sorry, dear sir,” the man said as he anxiously made his way to the entrance. “I know you may have wanted to have more of a hand in the settling of your father’s affairs, but I’ve been asked to take care of it.”
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Zee asked, as the man continued to maneuver his way into the estate.
“I think I should get going, Zee.”
“You don’t have to go, Drusilla. Please stay a while longer.”
“All right then,” Drusilla said as she doubled back and sat down by the table.
Zee had turned to answer, which allowed the man the opportunity to walk around him and cross through the entrance.
“Dear, sir,” the gentlemen continued to say as he walked forward, now completely inside the doorway. “My name is Odious, and it’s all been written into the affairs of the estate, which I have been chosen to overs
ee. You needn’t worry about anything. Everything will be properly handled. You don’t by chance happen to have any tea do you, my dear sir?”
Zee sighed again.
“Let me go get you some,” Drusilla said.
Zee sat back down and slowly rubbed his forehead with his fingers.
“I can promise you, Zee, I will make this as easy as possible. That’s the way your father would have wanted it. Your father was very prudent and had his affairs in order for quite some time. I’m going to have the funeral scheduled for two Sundays from now. He will be buried at the Easton Falls Memorial Cemetery.”
The skin on Zee’s forehead wrinkled and his face displayed a mixture of grief and frustration.
Drusilla handed Odious and Zee each a cup of tea, then she sat down after she watched Zee take a sip. Zee held the hot cup under his nose and allowed the aroma of honey and herbs to enter his nostrils before he took another sip and placed the cup down on the table.
“What do you need from me?” Zee asked as he thumbed the small china handle of the cup.
“It would be nice if you could say a few words about your father, but that is, of course, completely up to you. I do, however, have a few things that your father had instructed be delivered to you in the event anything unfortunate happened to him. The other property of the estate will be handled per the accordance of his financial trust, but there are boxes, which he specifically stated were to go to you straight away in the event of his death. If you give me a few moments, I’ll go back to the car and get them.” Odious stood up. His large belly made it a bit of a challenge to stand without bumping the table in front of him, but after a modest amount of effort, he made his way back to the doorway without knocking anything out of place.
“Hold on. Let me help you,” Zee said.
“Sure thing, sir.”
They made a couple of trips to the car and brought back a total of four boxes. The boxes themselves looked like nothing out of the ordinary, typical cream-colored cardboard boxes with lids.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Odious said as he reached down for a final sip of tea. “Mmmm. This is good. Thank you again for the tea. I’ll be in touch.”
He walked out the door, and without hesitation Drusilla and Zee turned around and walked towards the boxes. As they knelt down in front of them, Zee ran his hand across the top of one of the cardboard lids, as if expecting the texture to reveal something hidden. He turned to Drusilla and slowly lifted one of the lids.
CHAPTER 3:
MOVING FORWARD.
“Anika, did you read the university email?”
“Yeah, I read it. Looks like we have a couple more weeks ‘til classes start up, and Professor Samil is dead. I can’t believe it. Are you planning on going to his funeral?”
It was the first time that Owen had heard Anika speak without a frog in her throat since he had returned from Everville, and that at least gave him a little comfort.
“I think so. I see there was no mention of Dante, but I guess there wouldn’t be. It looks like I’ll be getting a roommate too, part of the university’s plan to make up for the storm’s damage to the dorms.
“I think it’s time we paid a visit to Cleophas and then The Keeper. I finally got a decent night of sleep, so we should get moving on a plan to help Dante. We have a little time before classes start up again. Hopefully we can figure something out before then. I’ll see if I can contact Cleophas, then I’ll check on some transportation. If we’re lucky, we might be able to visit him later this afternoon.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to go back to the hospital and watch over Dante. We can meet up later.”
Anika left Owen’s dorm and started walking back in the direction of the hospital. She tried to calm her thoughts as much as possible so she wouldn’t be stressed when she got back to Dante. Unfortunately, the general state of the campus only added to her stress, and by the time she arrived, she was once again battling back tears.
Anika sat down by Dante’s bed and stared at the intravenous bag attached to his arm. She moved her chair closer to him and reached over to pick up his hand. She held it, rubbed it, and briefly felt comforted by its warmth. Her eyes looked as if she were about to solve some great problem but then got lost somewhere along the way.
She then noticed the clear drops that were falling from the upright plastic bag, delivering Dante his nutrients drip by drip. They appeared to take an extra long time to fall. She imagined looking at the drips from the perspective of small insect able to stand on the water due to its surface tension, and wondered if this was what the rest of Dante’s life was going to be like, stuck in a hospital bed getting fed intravenously until his organs finally gave out on him, or he died of an infection from bed sores, waiting until they did.
Anika’s glossy, pink bag vibrated. She reached in and grabbed her phone. Owen’s name appeared on the screen, and she touched it to answer the call.
“Hey, Owen. What’s up?”
The frog in her throat had returned, and Owen could hear that she had been crying again.
“Cleophas is going to pick us up. We’ll meet you by the hospital lobby in about twenty minutes.”
“Okay then.”
Anika stood up, and for the first time she decided to take a walk around the hospital floor where Dante was located. She walked past the main hallway that led to the cafeteria and continued walking a little further until she noticed a small coffee cart manned by an older lady, whom she proceeded to pay for a steaming cup.
The moment the first drop of coffee touched her lips, she began to feel normal again, but that feeling only lasted a few seconds. She sighed and headed back to Dante’s room for one last visit before she left the hospital.
Just before she arrived at the room, she noticed the adjacent door was ajar and could hear the doctor speaking to someone. She glanced in and heard the doctor mention something about a coma.
In the room, Anika saw a man and woman in their late fifties or early sixties along with the doctor and a patient, who was lying on one of the beds.
Anika heard the woman say to the doctor, “I saw him moving. His eyes looked like they were about to blink. Has there been any change?”
“I wish I could say this was a positive thing, but the truth of the matter is that there has never been a case where a patient has been unconscious this long and returned to near perfect health, at least none that I am aware of. It just doesn’t happen.
“The brain is a delicate organ, and if it’s traumatized it’s difficult for it to recover. If the unconscious state lasts more than a few weeks, it’s almost always permanent. The movement you saw is more likely the body’s last gasp before it regresses. I think you should be prepared for the worst. If the nurse or I notice any change in vitals or other activity, we will let you know right away.”
Seeing that the woman was about to cry, the graying gentlemen standing next to her put an arm around her shoulder.
Anika saw the doctor spot her by the door, so she continued walking to Dante’s room, not wanting to appear as if she were eavesdropping.
After shutting the door and settling back in, she stood over Dante and said, “We’re going to get you out of this, Dante. I’m not going to let your mind rot away in here. We’re going to figure this out.”
Anika left the room again and entered the nearest elevator. She always hated the way hospital elevators smelled, so antiseptically sterile, and the ring that they made on each floor almost had an echo, as if acknowledging the presence of the empty hallways that went on forever.
Cleophas and Owen arrived in an old beat-up car. Owen got out and opened the back door for Anika as she approached.
“It’s good to see you again, Anika. I know this has been a tough time for you,” Cleophas said as Anika crouched her way onto the seat.
“It’s good to see you too, Cleophas, and thanks.”
Despite the long trip, the rest of the drive was a blur. She noticed a few bumps here and there, as well as a few objec
ts that resembled trees or bushes, but everything else just melted together, like a dream one wakes up from and quickly forgets.
When they arrived, Cleophas escorted them into the main guest room of his home and then he went to get the journal he had been reviewing the day before.
“Owen, I heard the doctor speaking to this couple about their friend in the hospital. He said that people who stay unconscious for a long time don’t come out of it. He said it never happens.”
Anika’s face turned beet red and her eyes released a torrent of tears that poured out all over the end-table near where she was standing.
“What are we going to do, Owen? I swear—I swear if we—”
Before she had a chance to finish, her hand accidentally knocked the vase on the table off onto the floor, shattering it into pieces. Then she purposely kicked over the table and started pounding the wooden pieces with her fists until the top of the table was no longer able to withstand the abuse and collapsed inward.
“Anika …” Owen said as he placed both of his hands on her shoulders.
“We will get through this, and we will find a way to wake Dante.”
Cleophas had been watching the scene from the hall but had waited a few moments until Anika had calmed down before he came in. She looked up and noticed Cleophas standing there.
“Anika,” he said, “I understand what you are going through. I had to deal with similar feelings of sadness and rage when the same thing happened to Dala. With her passing, and the experience and wisdom that I’ve been fortunate enough to gain over the years, I’ve learned some very important lessons. Everything in the universe has a purpose, even violence, and there is constant renewal in destruction. Preserving and restoring goodness, truth, and liberty are worth fighting for, but uncontrolled hatred and unrestrained aggression serve only to further the agenda of the authors of deceit and confusion.”
Anika sat there a few moments thinking about what Cleophas had just said as Owen rushed off to get something to wipe the blood that he had noticed dripping from her hands onto the carpet.