by Bryan Davis
“Whew!” Lauren sat heavily on the floor. “He’s no lightweight!”
Tamara raised an arm and flexed her wiry bicep. “He all muscle!”
Lauren laughed. “He’s got a lot of muscle, that’s for sure.”
The two smiled at each other for a moment, but Tamara’s expression soon turned serious. Do you know what’s going on? Are we really in Hades?
“We are. We transported here through portals.”
For the next few minutes, Lauren told the story about how Sapphira created a portal and sent the entire laser weapons structure through it. When she explained how they could get out of Hades easily by using Apollo, Tamara’s mood lifted, and the warning that guards might be waiting for them didn’t faze her. There was a way out. That seemed more important than anything.
Tamara mentally recited her experiences, and together they concluded that since the weapons facility was too big to fit in the portal leading to the museum room, it probably fell into the volcano, while she and Barlow dropped through the museum ceiling.
Lauren let her shoulders sag. “But not Matt.” Her throat tightened, pitching her voice higher. “Why couldn’t he drop in the right place? Why did he have to fall in the volcano?”
“Maybe …” Tamara rubbed Lauren’s shoulder. “Maybe … still hope.”
Lauren set her hand over Tamara’s. “You’re right. I’m not giving up yet.”
While waiting for Sir Barlow to recover, Tamara, again communicating through her thoughts, provided a vivid telling of dragon history. She told of Arramos and Shachar, Makaidos and Thigocia, Goliath and Roxil, and Clefspeare and Hartanna, though the final two never became mates. She described the transformation of dragons to humans, Devin’s insane obsession with killing them, and how he nearly succeeded in eliminating the species.
Lauren absorbed every detail. These were her ancestors, her family roots. For years she knew nothing more than a scant, fictitious history of her parents, really just captions under a family album with digitally altered pictures of herself with a fake mother and father—strangers now, though images of her fabricated life still haunted her thoughts.
So, Tamara continued, it’s my fault that Devin was able to find the other anthrozils. Not only did he steal the ovulum from me that led him to the others, but when he came into my house to kill me, he found a message from Valcor, who had become Patrick, a message that I was supposed to destroy immediately after reading. It provided a way to create coded communications between anthrozils, so when Devin took it, he was able to decode secret messages and learn where to find the remaining dragons. Everyone assumed that I had destroyed the message, but since I died, I couldn’t tell them the truth. It wasn’t until I was resurrected in the Circles of Seven that I was able to tell everyone about my tragic blunder.
“Why didn’t you destroy it?”
It was a terribly complicated code. I had a very hard time memorizing the procedure, and if I couldn’t communicate with the others, especially Legossi, I might not survive. You see, back then, I often became confused easily. Some people called me “simple” or even “dimwitted.” Whenever I took in information, it would get scrambled before I could understand it.
“Like dyslexia?”
A severe form of it, I think. I also couldn’t get information from my brain to my mouth efficiently, and that malady continues. In fact, it’s worse than it’s ever been. I wonder if eventually I’ll be able to talk at all.
“How did the input problem get cured? It’s obvious that you’re processing input very well right now. You seem as sharp as a tack.”
I’m not sure exactly how it happened. My mind started getting clearer shortly after the battle in Second Eden, the one in which Acacia died. Tamara’s brow wrinkled. But you might not have heard that story.
“Yes, I heard about it. My dad told me. Go on.”
Well, maybe it was the battle itself that cured me, because right afterward, when I captured Semiramis and Mardon and flew them to the birthing garden, my mind began to clear. You see, Mount Elijah had recently erupted, so I had to fly through a great deal of smoke and ash, and I was worried that I would become confused and get lost, but instead, I found my way much more quickly than I expected. Not only that, even though Semiramis tried to persuade me to let her go by using her deceptive arts, I was able to see through her ploy and complete my task. To this day I am convinced that the old me would have given in to her charms.
“That’s very cool. The shock of battle must have made something click in your brain.”
I think so, though it didn’t happen right away. I could feel the change during the flight, not before, and not long after that was when I noticed that my speaking ability was growing worse at a rapid rate. Anyway, since I felt like a newly hatched genius compared to my old self, after I became human I decided to pursue a lifelong ambition, to be an actress. I began secretly traveling to Earth to study under a lady in England who understood my plight and wasn’t bothered by my inability to speak. She said that there were many nonspeaking roles in movies and plays, and she could help me with facial expressions and body language, but when your mother and father were captured, I knew what my first role would be—an infiltrator into the prison.
So when I was sure my acting skills were good enough, I entered the military complex as a prisoner, but I told no one, not even Elam or Sapphira. I was sure they would try to stop me, and I didn’t want to risk hurting my chance to rescue Bonnie, so I simply left and went into hiding. I decided to lose a lot of weight, cut my hair in a ragged mop, and stay out of the sun so I could look like a drug addict. Imagine what my friends would have said during that process. It would have been impossible to escape the pressure to give up on my idea. After that, I tried to figure out how to get into the prison system, which took quite a while, but I finally—
“If I am some sort of cat, I think I have used at least seven of my nine lives.”
Lauren turned toward the voice. Sir Barlow, now sitting, spat a few leaf fragments into his palm. “Yes, I must be a cat. This hair-ball is proof.”
Tamara shuffled over on her knees and embraced him. “You … feel okay?”
As she drew back, he shook his head. “Not at all, my good lady, but I have felt worse.” He pressed a hand over his belly wound and grimaced. “It seems that my efforts cost me a pound of flesh.”
Lauren scooted to his other side. “But you saved our lives.” She gave him a hug and slid her hand into his. “We’re thankful for the courageous knight who sacrificed himself for us.”
“Indeed. I will gladly pay that pound anytime.” He grinned. “The smiles of two grateful ladies are reward enough.”
Lauren peeked at his wound through his open shirt. Only a bruise and blood smears remained. Getting him up shouldn’t be too risky. She gave his hand a gentle pull. “Do you want to see if you can stand?”
He nodded. “With a single candle lighting this dark chamber, I get the impression that this is not a good place to stay.”
“You’re right about that.” Lauren gave Barlow a quick summary of her story and how all three arrived in Hades. When she finished, she set a hand behind his back. As she pulled, Tamara helped from the other side. Soon, they had balanced the hefty guard on his feet.
After buttoning his shirt, he picked up his gloves and pulled his pants higher on his waist. “It seems that I have lost my belt buckle.”
“You did,” Lauren said. “I think all the metal you had on stayed behind.”
“Well, then …” Barlow cinched his waistband and tied the two ends of his belt together. “We cannot go into battle with the risk of losing our pants, can we now?”
“I safe.” Tamara touched her jumpsuit. “Plastic buttons.”
“Then we are all covered.” Barlow straightened his shoulders, now perfectly steady. “What is our course of action?”
Lauren nodded toward the museum. “I left a communications device called Apollo in there. It was tr
ansmitting a lot of data, and I don’t know if it’s done yet or not. If Larry got my video, he probably sent at least an acknowledgment and maybe more. I need to know if there are any guards at the portal site.”
“I am aware of our electronic friend. I heard there is a new model, so I will be glad to see it.” Barlow pulled his pants higher and nodded. “Lead the way, Miss.”
Lauren donned her helmet and guided them around the building. When they entered the room, everything appeared as it was before—Apollo and her backpack on the floor and the ladder leaning against the wall, though the knife now lay near where Tamara had cut the tree.
After giving Tamara and Sir Barlow each a cereal bar and a bottle of water from the backpack, Lauren knelt next to Apollo. She pressed the menu button and searched for a setting to check for a received message. While eating and drinking, Barlow and Tamara looked around. As much as her ability allowed, Tamara relayed her knowledge of the museum and the tree of life. Although her cadence was halting and her word choices strained, Barlow seemed able to fill in the details with his usual flair.
“So, they say that money doesn’t grow on trees,” Barlow said as he bent close to the single flame, “but healing and eternal life are far more valuable.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Lauren scrunched her brow as she scrolled through menu options. Cross-dimensional transmission. Select mode. Toggle to receive.
She pressed the final button. “There. That should do it.” A diode on Apollo’s top turned green. “I think we’re getting something.”
“Can you read it?”
“Not yet.” She set her phone on Apollo’s top. A message flashed on the phone’s screen. Enter Password.
“Password?” Lauren blinked at Sir Barlow. “Any ideas?”
“Since Ashley is its creator, I would suggest words that are meaningful to her. Perhaps Walter or Foley or brain choke.”
“Brain choke?”
Barlow chuckled. “You would have to know her as well as I do to understand that one.”
“I’ll try them, but Walter and Foley are too obvious.” After she punched in the words one at a time, each one failing, a new message appeared. Security Warning. Next Failed Attempt Will Result in Lockout.
Lauren let out a huff. “Now what?”
“Maybe it … temporary.” Tamara patted her on the back. “We wait … yes?”
Lauren nodded. A security warning like that had to be temporary. It would reset eventually.
“What happened here?” Barlow pointed at the tree. “Is a blossom forming?”
Lauren shuffled closer on her knees, blinking at a newly radiant spot. Fresh growth had sprouted from the place Tamara had cut the tree, and the flame blazed brighter than the other one. “This is where the leaves that healed you came from.”
Lauren perked her ears. Up until now, Mom’s song had stayed consistent in this room, lilting from every crevice, but the source suddenly narrowed to a single point.
She half crawled and half leaped back to the exit door. The tree’s new sprouts created a vaporous beam that painted a circular glow on the doorway at waist level, as if the air were solid instead of empty space. No bigger than a finger hole, it pulsed with brightness. The song trickled through it, weak and fragile. “Any idea what that is?”
Bending, Barlow looked at the glow. “I have witnessed the formation of a number of portals, strange phantoms, if you will, that hover like this. Since we are in a place that is rife with portals, if I were a betting man, I would wager that this is a hole to another realm, but I wouldn’t bet my eyeball that it’s safe to look through it.”
“My guess is Second Eden. I hear my mother’s song directly from the hole.” Lauren grabbed a pen from her backpack and poked it part way through. The gap offered resistance, as if the air were invisible wax, soft and pliable. Unlike earlier passages through the doorway, there was no crackle of static electricity.
The front half of the pen disappeared. She let it go. It floated in midair, proving that the edges of the hole were somehow solid enough to support the weight. “It’s going somewhere other than here.” She pulled it out and examined the tip. No damage, and the wax left no residue.
“It seems that I must take the risk.” Barlow cleared his throat. “If you will allow me, Miss, I will see what I can see.”
When Lauren scooted over, Barlow knelt and set his eye up to the hole. “Well, this is interesting. I see the birthing garden in Second Eden. When I last saw it, green grass had grown up across its fertile soil, but it seems that they have cultivated the garden once again. There is no mistaking the plants, but I see no humans. There are stones here and there, and one plant is badly damaged.” He drew back, his expression sagging. “I fear that the little one inside that plant could not have survived such a crushing blow.”
“The little one?” Lauren asked.
“These plants give birth to human infants. I have never understood the process, so I am unable to explain how it works. Suffice it to say that the mysteries of Second Eden are beyond the grasp of Earth dwellers.”
“That’s for sure.” Lauren touched the edge of the hole. It felt rubbery, though her touch did nothing to alter its appearance or position. “So how do we make it bigger? Cut more leaves—”
Apollo buzzed. Lauren jumped to it and looked it over, again kneeling. Within the glass enclosure, sparkling green light emanated from the top platform, though soupy, as if someone had shone an emerald laser through dense fog on a snowy night. While the buzzing continued, light from the tree faded slightly, and the radiance within Apollo brightened. Soon, the sparkles gathered together in a swirl before falling to the bottom platform like spinning green snow. When the movement finally stopped, the glow turned off, and the tree’s light revived. A finger-length scroll lay inside Apollo, neatly tied with a blue ribbon.
Lauren opened the enclosure, withdrew the scroll, and untied the ribbon. As she rolled out the paper and read the computer-printed text, Barlow and Tamara looked on.
Greetings, Lauren. I, Larry the computer, have been instructed to provide you with important information regarding Apollo’s function. I was going to give you step-by-step instructions regarding how to set it to receive data from me, but I see from Apollo’s ready signal that you have already accomplished this step. Now all that remains is to give you the password to access the received data. The password is AmAzing GraCe. It is case-sensitive, so enter it exactly as you see it. Send a confirmation message to let me know if you have succeeded. For your information, we have heard that the dragons who helped in the jailbreak operation were not able to return to Second Eden, so we cannot send a dragon to pick you up at Mount Elijah. We also have no one to send to clear your entry portal on Earth of any guards who might be there. Communications with Jared, Marilyn, and your father have been cut off. The last we heard from Ashley and Walter, they were fleeing military strikes, and we have lost contact. It is doubtful that normal operations will be restored soon. It seems that Earth has declared war on Second Eden, including its allies on Earth.
Lauren rolled the paper into a scroll. Tingles crawled across her back. The voices of the condemned chanted their sorrowful song and blended again with her mother’s. “Inhale the fires, exhale despair, each day expires without a prayer.”
Barlow blew out a low whistle. “It seems that we have our backs to the hornets’ nest.”
Nodding, Lauren slid the scroll into her pants pocket and punched the password into the phone. Apollo’s diode turned green again, and a video appeared on the phone’s screen. A man and a woman were bustling about in an equipment room of some kind. The woman carried a metallic sphere to a door and paused with her hand on the knob. “My name is Carly. The man is Adam. If you’re seeing this, that means you got the update from Larry. What he didn’t tell you is that all communications with Larry from now on should be considered viewable by anyone, including the people who kidnapped your father. Larry will delete this video as soon as he
sends it, and Adam will try to reroute all cleared transmissions to Lois, but don’t count on it.”
A loud bang sounded. Adam waved frantically. “Someone’s coming! Get out of here!”
The screen went blank.
Lauren stared at Barlow and Tamara. They stared back. Everything seemed frozen in time, stalled without a place to go. Hades now felt like a safe harbor instead of a pit of fears. They might be the only ones out of harm’s way, the only allies who could stop the onslaught being poured out against the occupants and friends of Second Eden.
“My advice,” Barlow said, “is to solve the mystery of the tree’s portal to Second Eden. Perhaps if we enter that realm, we will learn how to counter the attacks. At the very least, we can provide a haven for escapees from the volcano’s destruction and from the potential of danger from Earth’s forces.”
Lauren took off her helmet and goggles and laid them on the floor next to the backpack. “Odd, isn’t it? We’re offering people who live in a place called Eden a way to escape Earth by transporting them to Hades.” She pushed her hand through her hair and grabbed a fistful at the back. “The world is going crazy!”
“Indeed, Miss, but we must cling to our sanity, and I am just the one to lead the way. I lived within a tiny gem for a thousand years, and the pressure to crack was beastly, but my fellows and I kept up our spirits by telling tales as tall as trees and solving mind-bending puzzles we concocted.”
Lauren picked up the phone from Apollo’s top and slid it into her pocket. “We don’t have time for tales. We have to—”
“Yes, of course, but we must solve a puzzle. I have deduced that Tamara cut the tree in order to provide healing leaves for me. That cutting process produced the energetic flame, which, in turn, produced the hole that leads to Second Eden. Therefore, if we cut more leaves, we should produce a larger hole, perhaps big enough for us to crawl through.”
Lauren smiled. The gallant knight’s idea was a good one, the same thing she was going to suggest when Apollo’s buzz interrupted her. Even if it failed, at least it would keep him busy while she tried Apollo. “That’s a great idea, Sir Barlow.” She scooped up the knife and handed it to him. “How much do you think you should cut?”