“We are here,” she says, pointing to the black area on the enlarged map.
When she does so, the movie screen dissipates. The map zooms in on said area and shifts into a 3D replica. Persephone’s hologram display has us at the edge of Onyx. With the Lunar darkness behind us, we are facing bright sunlight fitted with large green fields as far as the eye can see.
“Shit, we’ve still got to get through Emerald, Ruby, and Granite to hit the mouth of Crystal,” I say. “And those lands are not holy.”
“Yeah, Satan’s gonna have every avenue and mode of transportation watched,” Brooks interjects.
“Seph, what would be the fastest mode of transport to get to Crystal?” I ask.
“Let’s see,” she points the end of her conductor’s baton thoughtfully to the corner of her mouth. The hologram switches back to the ancient map. Persephone ponders it. She seems to see something. She disappears and materializes in front of the paper map on the table.
“That’s interesting,” she says. Back in front of her map, she zooms in. Split between Onyx and Emerald there appears a tiny glittering door.
“A door?” I ask.
“Seems there’s an underground tunnel leading to Crystal,” she replies. The map becomes 3D again. A sweeping zoom shows us a darkened path in Onyx. Twisting and turning it ends at a large, old door. The door opens into the tunnel.
“A tunnel that goes to Crystal?” I ask. “Is it holy ground?”
“It is, in fact,” Seph says, pulling up a slideshow. It’s black and white and shows numerous men digging into the ground. The images go fast through the process and the tunnel gets completed.
“You see, these men,” Seph points with her baton. “They are of the Granite Brotherhood monks. When the shires were constructed so very long ago, they figured they would need a secret way to get from Granite to Crystal and Onyx. They took vows of silence and servitude. They did not condone distractions of any kind. More than that, though, they needed safety. At the time, Gold was persecuting those of faith. I’m sure you know this from your studies, Iris?”
“Uh yes, I do.” She goes to a bookshelf and pulls out a hefty volume. “Long after the ancient families had established the shires, Gold became heavily materialistic. They looked down on spirituality. They didn’t condone it. Yes, here it is.”
She opens the book to a photograph. It’s clearly Gold Shire. The shimmering pavement and archways betray the landscape. In the photo, a prior Gold Leader stands next to a man in shackles.
“If you were caught on Gold land displaying any sort of spiritual fortitude, you were persecuted. Many souls were sent to death.”
“That’s why they constructed the tunnel,” Seph finishes with a flourish of the baton. Her hologram shows the length of the tunnel opening to the bright sky and greenery of Crystal.
“Well, that just sounds way too easy,” Brooks adds his two cents.
“He’s right,” I confirm.
“You’re both right,” Seph says. “Your primary concern is going to be from the tunnel to the opening of the Holy Path. They’re not connected. That’s going to be a concern. The other thing is the door to the tunnel needs a key.”
“Where’s the key?” Brooks asks.
“Iris, grab the map and give it to Lyvia,” Seph says. “I’m not sure if this will work, but I have a feeling it will…”
Iris brings it over to me.
“Lyvia, set it on the ground. Take your shoes off.”
I spread the map on the ground and remove my sandals.
“Step on it,” she directs.
29
I step on the ancient paper with my bare feet. Suddenly, I’m no longer in the room with the gang. I’m on a field. The paper is gone beneath my feet, replaced with soft green, luscious grass. It’s warm. There’s a quiet breeze caressing my skin. It seems like a familiar place, but I’m not sure where I am. What I do know, is it’s not Earth. When I look down at my toes in the grass, I spot a bronze skeleton key snug in the green between my feet. I want to check this place out before I grab that key, which I assume swings me back to Earth, but there’s not time.
I stoop down and grab the key. Grass is replaced by aged paper. I’m back standing on the map in the cottage room. A key secure in my hand. I stick it in my shoulder bag.
“Where’d you go?” Iris asks.
“Not quite sure,” I reply. “Some field. Looked familiar. Spirit Plane, I think.”
“It seems like we’ve got two points of weakness,” Brooks says, pointing at Persephone’s hologram. “From here to the tunnel, then from the tunnel to the Holy Path.”
“That’s where Iris comes in,” I say, the dawn of realization setting in.
Iris is sixteen-years-old. She wears her thick brunette hair in pixie-style haircut that accentuates her almond-shaped, aquamarine eyes. She’s got a small, athletic stature. Not afraid of adventure, her tomboy spirited side reveals itself often.
Her sense of style is not one to be reckoned with. In fact, she has helped me coordinate outfits for years. She favors vintage attire, and today she is wearing an antiquated bow-necked white top with small black polka-dots and a ruffled collar paired with high-waisted, straight-legged jeans circa late-1990s and a black grommet belt.
I always called Iris a little earthen nymph. Her love of nature and geography has her exploring nonstop. I’ve often found her in these very woods investigating the area. It’s going to be Iris who gets us to that door.
“Iris, is it hard to locate?” I ask.
“Nope,” she replies easily.
“She won’t have any trouble getting you there,” Seph interjects, with a flip of a ponytail.
“We just need to—” I get cut off by a sound outside.
“Shh, everyone be quiet,” Brooks whispers.
The shuffling continues. Not right up near the house. Seems to be some distance away.
“Shit, it’s his minions,” I say, peering out the window through a corner of the curtain.
“He might see the light—” Brooks interjects, pulling my hand from the fabric.
“No, we’re invisible, Brooks,” I say, turning toward him. “The whole cottage is blessed. Unless they walk directly into it, they cannot see or hear us. Invisible force field.”
“What’d you see?” he asks.
“I saw three figures, but there could be more. One is very large.”
“Bryce,” Seph supplies. She pulls up a hologram picture of him. It’s animated. His serious face pulls into a grim, sickening smile.
“Most likely,” I respond.
“Who’s Bryce?” Iris asks.
“An ogre,” I say. “Works for Levi.”
“Oh no,” she replies.
“Between the three of us and our relics, this’ll be easy,” Brooks says.
“We need to hear what they’re saying,” I tell him.
“Yeah, can’t get ahead of ourselves. They’re sure to have weapons of their own,” Brooks replies.
“Send me,” says Seph. “Put the Slab near the door, I can absorb the sound invisibly.”
“Great idea, Seph,” I respond, setting the moonstone Slab by the door.
Persephone dissipates into thin air.
“Now we wait,” I say, exhaling as I settle into the sofa.
Poof. Persephone appears in the cottage. She’s got sight-enhancing binoculars on her head. “I can confirm there are three of them.”
“Which ones?” I ask.
“Two that will give you trouble—Bryce and Chad. The third, however, may be your ticket to the door.”
“Who is it?” I ask.
“Xane,” she replies.
“Oh, wow. That is grrr-eat news,” I say.
“Who’s Xane?” Iris asks.
“An ally,” Seph answers.
“There’s more,” Persephone goes on. “They have weaponry—some serious weaponry. Although, we trust Xane, he could’ve been converted by now. Otherwise, he’s putting on quite a show.”
“I know,” she says. “I have it on good authority he most certainly is play-acting.”
“Who’s authority?” Brooks asks, languidly. He leans back into the couch and links his fingers behind his head. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was about five minutes from going into a turkey-coma following Thanksgiving dinner. This guy.
“Well, mine of course,” she laughs. “I know Xane. He’s a great actor, but I can see his true intentions.”
“Okay, well, we can’t just run out there and start yelling Xane’s name, regardless of whether he’s on our side or not. There’s two others out there,” Iris pipes in from the recliner. She’s leaning forward, her head steepled between her hands.
“She’s right,” Seph says. “I’ve got a plan.”
“Before we start with logistics, I think the most pertinent thing we need to know is what weapons they’ve got. Seph?” I ask.
“It’s an artifact,” she replies. “An evil one.”
“Like?” I ask.
“Okay, another quick lesson,” Persephone says, bringing up her movie screen. “Everyone familiar with ancient Greek mythology?”
We all nod.
“Well, obviously, the mythology was completely constructed by humans. And it’s not correct. Not quite, anyway. Humans needed to personify things—emotions, love, evil, wisdom, good, hope—these things were given idols. Names, really—Aphrodite, Hades, Athena, Zeus, the Graces, etc. Just to understand and compartmentalize life. Of course, this was before the Bible came along and straightened some things out. Like—there aren’t multiple gods; only the Father. Still, it was a way for humans to comprehend concepts beyond concrete understanding. Most concepts are abstract; although, there are some that have a bit of truth to them.”
“Like?” I ask again.
“A certain box,” Iris says, looking up from a book that appears to have materialized out of thin air, probably one of Persephone’s holograms.
“Pandora’s Box?” Brooks asks.
“Yes, Pandora’s box, but it’s not what you picture,” she answers. “You see, the story goes, when Prometheus stole fire from Heaven, Zeus, King of the gods, wanted revenge. He presented Pandora, the first human woman created by the gods, to Prometheus’ brother, Epimetheus. She, by the way, was created with deceitful feminine qualities and an evil flair.”
“Misogynists,” I remark.
“Yeah, they were,” Seph replies. “Anyway, so Pandora comes with this box, which isn’t exactly an accurate translation. It’s not a box; it’s more like a jar. Pandora is gifted to Epimetheus. He accepts Zeus’ endowment despite warnings from his brother. Once in his presence, Pandora opens the box. Evil and sickness pour out into the world. The only one not to escape from the jar was ‘Hope.’”
“Deceptive expectation,” Iris adds from behind the hologram hardcover.
“Yes, that has been a more accurate translation, depending on levels of optimism,” Seph says.
“So that’s all that’s left in the jar now?” Brooks asks.
“No, that would be nice though. See, the story of the chalice is not accurate. There was in fact a jar, but it was not handed down by Greek gods. It was always in the possession of Hades, also known as—” Seph pauses.
“Lucifer,” I finish.
“It was he who unleashed the evils, as we know. The reason ‘hope’ is better translated as deceptive expectation is because that’s kind of the Devil’s thing, deception. ‘Hope’ as we know it, wasn’t left in the jar. Once evil and sickness were unleashed, Satan kept the jar. In it, he harnessed fear. He designed the jar to absorb the greatest fears of those within the vicinity.”
“How does it work?” Brooks asks.
“When the bearer lifts the lid, any and all in the vicinity enter their deepest personal fears. As long as the holder is touching the jar, he enters no such fear. It’s the same when holding the lid.”
“We should assume all three will open the jar and continue touching either the lid or the jar, keeping them safe,” Brooks deduces.
“What do we do?” Iris asks.
“Well, Brooks is right. I heard Bryce say he would be holding the jar. All three would hang on while he opened it. Then Chad and Xane would hold onto the lid. The plan is to entomb you three in fear, while they tie you up and bring you to Levi. Although, they didn’t say where that would be,” Seph replies.
“So, they plan to tie us up one-handed while hanging on to the artifacts?” Brooks asks. “Seems stupid.”
“Well, Bryce was never one to personify the epitome of intelligence,” I say.
“Right,” Seph agrees. “That’s how you need to circumvent these guys.”
“We need to intercept the jar before they even open it,” Brooks interjects.
“That would be ideal,” I say.
“Ideal, but very difficult,” Seph replies. “Bryce has the thing practically glued to him.”
“Okay, so there are three of them,” I say.
“And three of us,” Iris finishes.
“Ah-em,” Seph clears her throat.
“Okay, four, and Seph you’ve helped a great deal thus far,” I say with a wink.
She nods spiritedly, her pigtails bouncing. A cheerleader’s call for the human pyramid.
“I’ll take Bryce,” Brooks offers.
“Okay, and Iris, you’ve got Chad. I believe you can handle him, especially after Damien. Do you have your bracelet?”
“Yep,” she says, displaying the glittery gold chain.
“Good, you may need it,” I tell her. “I’ll take Xane. I’m going to make sure he hasn’t switched lanes and get him to help us with the other two.”
“Where are they exactly, Seph?” Brooks asks.
“About thirty yards from the cottage. They don’t know where the door is located; although, they happen to be on the exact trajectory that leads there.”
“So, we follow Iris to the path, then split up to cover our appointed targets as we near them,” I relay.
“Sounds like a plan,” Iris says.
“We should do some sort of group handshake,” Persephone says, bouncing with excitement.
“Seph, we don’t really have time—” I start.
“Hands in everybody,” she exclaims, ignoring my hesitation.
Iris, Brooks, and I congregate around Seph. Everyone puts his or her hands layering each on top of the other. Persephone places her hologram hand on the very top.
“Repeat after me,” she says.
We look at her expectantly.
“Earth, Fire, Wind, Water, Heart—unite!”
Nobody says a word.
“Seph, did you just quote Captain Planet?” I ask. It’s an ancient cartoon revolving around a protagonist set on saving the world from pollution.
“Umm... Maybe,” she replies, eyes wide and innocent.
“Okay, how about: Let’s do this, on three,” I try.
“Well, it’s kind of lame, but I guess…” Persephone utters, dejectedly.
“Seph, count us down,” I say, knowing she’s dying to lead the countdown at the very least.
She starts—“One, two, three, let’s do this!”
We finish the last three words together.
30
I stow my Slab in my bag along with the skates and my other things.
The plan is for me to take the lead. Distract the minions until Brooks and Iris are in place. Persephone showed us a map of the exterior and outlined where the others are located, about thirty yards into the woods.
We filter through the door as stealth-like silent ninjas and peer into the woods. Sure enough, about thirty yards in, we can hear muffled voices. I point Brooks and Iris to a large rock between us and the conversation. They nod silently and split off.
I continue toward the voices inaudibly. The closer I get the better I can make out some words.
“Over … by the way … don’t … Fine—”
&n
bsp; “No, that’s not where … see ... We … find ... She’ll …”
I make a few more quick and quiet steps forward and settle behind a huge tree trunk. The conversation becomes clear.
“Come on you guys, look harder. This place is supposed to be right around here, why can’t we see it?” A gruff voice. Bryce.
“Because it’s blessed,” Xane answers, adding under his breath, “You dipshit.”
“What was that?” Bryce growls.
“Nuthin’ man, let’s just keep looking for it,” he replies easily.
I peer around thick, dark bark. They’re about fifteen feet in front of me, give or take. Bryce’s large back faces me, hugging what I suspect is Pandora’s keepsake. The other two are ahead of him facing the same way, arms outstretched, feeling the air for a hidden cottage. Ha.
Knowing that Bryce won’t open the jar without guarantee that Brooks, Iris, and I are in the vicinity, I stand and begin to whistle.
“Why hello, Bryce, Chad. Is that you, Xane? Long time no see.”
I can tell they don’t know which direction my voice is coming from as they each spin a circle respectively.
“Where are you?” Bryce bellows.
“Oh Bryce, don’t worry. I’m coming.”
I peer around the trunk. I can see all three figures in the bright moonlight. Still facing away from my tree.
“Where’s Brooks and the girl?” he asks. “Damien said they were with you.”
“Oh, did he? And where is Damien? Recouping from a headache?” I ask.
“Nah, he’s up—” Xane starts.
“Shut up, idiot—” Bryce cuts him off. “Doesn’t matter, Lyvia. Where the hell is the rest of your gang?”
“They’re ‘round here somewhere,” I reply.
He turns around finally facing my concealment tree. His giant mitts are wrapped around Pandora’s chalice with a death grip.
“What do you have there, Bryce?” I emerge from the shadows into the silvery moonlight.
I Am the Storm Page 23