Trey Roberts and the Ancient Relics

by Lee Magnus

  “Yeah, Clievan. Why don’t you tell him what happened with the girl?”

  “Oh, you are a funny guy Seth,” Clievan said. “She kicked me in the eye, then ran off with the heirloom,” he said holding a large hand over his right eye as if the event just happened.

  “A gecko! That’s it!” Nick yelled then instantly wished he hadn’t said it aloud.

  “What?” replied Seth.

  “Oh, nothing. I thought I saw a, um, gecko in the window. I’m a scientist, I like geckos,” he said as blood rushed to his cheeks. “Please keep going.”

  Seth released a short uncomfortable laugh then said, “For all the trouble and essentially saving her from prison, she goes and betrays us both. I haven’t seen her again.”

  “You sure are full of stories,” said Nick trying not to stare at Clievan. He has fingers and toes of a gecko. That’s so weird!

  “So, where’re we going,” asked Clievan?

  A Trip to Egypt

  Trey woke in a puddle of drool with the game looping the opening screen. Incessant bleeps and bloops of the archaic soundtrack drilled through his skull. He wandered groggily into the kitchen for another bite of Aunt Kathy’s lasagna, wondering when his mom would return.

  Trey stopped in the hallway. Confused in a sleepy stupor, he stared at the mysterious woman in dark jeans and an 80’s style jean jacket finishing off the pan of lasagna.

  “Trey!” she said in a throaty Arabic accent. “This is fantastic! You should really give Kathy my compliments,” she said taking a heaping enthusiastic bite.

  Recognizing her as the woman from soccer practice, he overcame the startling moment. He turned to dash back to his room for his phone, but before he could take more than a few steps, the woman subdued him on the floor.

  She stood above him holding her right boot to his chest and said in a friendly manner, “Listen. I’ll let you up. You do not need to fear me.”

  “Okay,” squeaked Trey.

  Catching his breath, he rose slowly never removing his eyes from hers.

  “Who are you and why are you in my house?” he asked firmly.

  “My name is Lyza,” she said as they returned to the table. “I knew your grandfather Patrick.”

  She took another bite of lasagna then said, “Kathy left you something very important today. I’m here to help you keep it safe. You must never show it to anyone.”

  “So she said,” Trey replied. “Why? What is it and why is some dumb old artifact so important?”

  “That dumb old artifact is a piece of three items that together wield great power. The other two are hidden safely in different parts of the world but are close to being discovered by people that should never possess them. Your grandfather helped us recover and protect ancient relics for many years. Without him, the forces against us would have surely prevailed by now.”

  “What do you mean by forces against us?”

  “We’ll get to that later. I need to ask you a few questions that you must answer honestly and without too much emotion.”

  “You broke into my house, attacked me and ate my lasagna. Sure. I can totally trust you.”

  She sighed then asked, “Did your father ever tell you about –“ Her eyes shifted over his shoulder then she screamed as she threw Trey to the ground, “Get down!” She twisted her body as a stone bladed knife nearly pierced her chest.

  “What was that!” shrieked Trey.

  “Stay down! Don’t move unless you have to!”

  She jumped up in time to intercept a hooded figure with a belt full of knives holding one in each hand. She threw lightening quick arm blocks, careful to avoid the jagged blades. She drove the attacker back with a powerful front kick. Another hooded attacker crashed through the living room window diving into the formidable woman with great force. She used the momentum to hurl the attacker against the wall. She rolled to her feet leapt into the air, then dropped a powerful axe kick onto the first attacker ending his fight.

  A third entered the back and grabbed Trey by the foot while Lyza was occupied with the second.

  Trey shrieked for Lyza to help then kicked the third in the forehead dropping its hood to reveal a face of crooked black teeth and pale scaly skin. The creature had thin strands of oily hair drooping into cloudy eyes.

  Trey screamed in fear, then quickly stood as the creature did likewise. It swiftly attacked Trey by grabbing at his arms. Trey defensively fought off the creature then reflexively leapt into the air closed his legs around its neck, spun it, then slammed the grotesque head into the floor. He kicked up from the floor to his feet surprised at his swift actions. He then stomped it a few times for good measure.

  Lyza ran to him and said, “Go! Now!”

  They ran out the front door to a silver sports car parked at the curb. Two ghastly creatures stumbled out of the house joining three more sprinting at an astounding pace. One tackled Trey sending them both sprawling to the damp grass.

  “Lyza!” Trey screamed.

  She spun around in time to judo hurl one into the car while slyly snagging a knife from its belt. She then plunged the stolen knife into the skull of another.

  Trey stood prepared to run when he was deafened by gun shots.

  Blam! Blam! rang from across the yard.

  The beast that tackled him lurched backward then its head exploded in a cascade of greenish gray goop.

  Two more blasts targeting the others resulted in similar destruction.

  “Mr. Johnson?” Trey said bewildered as he watched his elderly neighbor methodically ravage the assailants with a pump shotgun. Each shukshak signaled a new shell ready to explode into action.

  Lyza extracted the knife from the dead skull then flung it into the chest of the one she tossed into the car. It staggered into the road where Mr. Johnson, with a single blast, repositioned its head into an arch pattern of blood and flesh onto the street.

  He grabbed the gun by the stock, walked briskly to Trey then said with a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Son, are you ok?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Johnson. I’m pretty freaked out.”

  Trey turned to Lyza. His eyes were as big as grandma’s pancakes.

  Mr. Johnson said to Lyza, “You need to get him outta here.”

  Sternly she commanded, “To the car, Trey. We need to leave, now.”

  “But I –“

  “Now, Trey. We don’t have time. There will be more.” Her eyes were cold and dark. Shadows from streetlights cast a sinister shadow across her former stunning face turning it to something – less.

  “More! What? But –“

  She gently pulled the reluctant teenager to the car and opened the door.

  “Get in.” She commanded. He refused. She softened then said, “Please.” She almost seemed sincere. He didn’t move. He was scared like a small child in the dark. He wasn’t just refusing, he was immobile – in shock. Then she continued bluntly, “Do you want to stick around and wait for the rest to show up or would you like to get in the car and drive far away? Hmmm?”

  Trey glanced worriedly at the woman then toward the house, seeming to understand the situation. He received an approving nod from Mr. Johnson then said distantly, “Away. I would like to be far away, please.” He then sat in the car, fastened the seatbelt and didn’t say another word until they hit the freeway.

  “What were those things?”

  “I’m not sure you’re ready for that answer,” she said, glancing in his direction.

  “Try me,” he replied sternly.

  “An evil king’s roggletts.”

  “What the heck is a rogglett?”

  “Like a minion but nastier.”

  “Where’d they come from?”

  “Kathy told you what she knows of your grandfather’s ancient Egypt story? She told you about the kings?”

  “You mean the one in Egypt? The bad one?”

  “Yeah. That one. There was also a good one. After King Khaitu, the bad king, was banished in a rebellion led by his seven sorcer
ers, a group of his loyal guard attempted to recover the lost relic that contains his essence. They must have found a way to reach the Etherios and were turned to these creatures.”

  “Banished king? Sorcerers? What are you talking about?” Trey said confused.

  “I know,” she said. “I told you you weren’t ready.”

  “So, what you are saying is that we almost died because of this stupid thing Aunt Kathy gave me?”

  “It’s much bigger than that,” she said. “Khaitu is a powerful being from an alternate reality. He led a reign of terror across the multiverse. Your Earth was just another stop on his long list. He raised seven ancient spirits from the Earth, then granted them each certain powers that would complete his transition to immortality: water, wind, fire, physical, time, healing and the last bound the seven to grant immortality. Witness to horrendous acts, the seven vowed to stop him at all costs becoming the Order of Hsekh. In the ceremony intended to grant Khaitu immortality, the Order imprisoned him in a relic and then sent the relic to a realm of spirits and ghostly creatures, the Etherios.”

  “Why didn’t they just kill him?” asked Trey.

  “Khaitu can’t be killed with ordinary weapons, and other than those wielded by his personal demon guard, weapons were banned from the ceremony grounds. One of the Order, Commerand, was killed during the ceremony, complicating the process. A curse Khaitu placed on the seven so they would remain loyal overtook his body. The rest of the Order transferred their essence into individual relics to avoid the curse, then their relics were dispersed all over. Commerand, however, was not able to fully die. He became trapped in the curse and is now leading the effort to release the evil king.”

  “That sounds a little more serious than a bunch of creepers wanting their toy back.”

  “I wasn’t aware until now that Commerand knew what your Grandfather left you. He may even know the location of the Eye of Kartho,” she said distantly.

  “Eye? What’s that?” asked Trey.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing. You handled yourself well back there.”

  “Six years of Yondo Jiu-Jitsu finally paying off,” he said proudly. “Who are you, really? You said you knew my grandpa. How?”

  “I’m originally from Egypt, south of Cairo. I lived there for many years until I became a protector of the ancient relics and artifacts. I help the Order and others, including your grandfather, to keep Khaitu bound in the Etherios. We periodically find and hide the artifacts so Commerand can’t acquire them.”

  “Did that guy kill my grandpa?”

  “I don’t know what happened to Patrick. I wish I knew. We’re still trying to find out.”

  “Do you think he’s still alive?”

  Lyza fidgeted. She bit her lip then answered, “I don’t know. I want to believe he is, but it’s been so long.”

  Trey’s voice saddened as he looked at his feet in the cramped floorboard. “I never knew him other than the stories Dad told, but now I’d like to. Dad always made him out to be this great brave man. No one could stop your Grandpa; he would often say during a story of one of his adventures.”

  “No one ever could. That’s why I’d be surprised if he wasn’t still alive.” She startled herself with the comment and quickly added, “But don’t get your hopes up. We haven’t found him yet and he’s most likely….well….you know.”

  “Yeah I know. He’s probably gone for good.”

  “He knew you well. Your dad told him stories of you all the time. Always kept him up to date on you.”

  “Aunt Kathy told me today about Dad and Grandpa. I didn’t know before. I’m not sure what to think about it.”

  Trey’s emotions often surfaced during conversations regarding his father – angry emotions. But this time was different. His heart thumped for his lost dad like never before. His mind raced, playing back old memories – trying to make sense of who the man was.

  “Yes. He hated that you couldn’t know each other. He thought it was wrong. But Grandpa insisted. Which was probably the right thing.”

  “If you say so.” Trey was silent for a minute. “Do you know my dad?”

  “No. I’ve never met him. It was always protocol to not have contact with our own or colleagues’ families.”

  “Oh.”

  Lyza thought he sounded disappointed with her response but had no further recourse to make him feel better.

  “If that Katie guy is locked away in the…what did you call it?”

  “Khaitu and the Etherios.”

  “If he’s there, why put so much effort into the artifacts? What’s it matter if the sorcerer dude gets them?”

  “When Commerand was killed, the binding process was disrupted which left a small probability that Khaitu could free himself. We don’t think that will happen, but there is that possibility. Additionally, if Commerand were to acquire all of the relics, he would be able to free Khaitu on his own. One of the artifacts could possibly give him the ability to recover the relics if he could find them. That artifact is on Earth, and he might know where it is.”

  “Oh. Okay. Why not just move that one somewhere he can’t get it?”

  “It’s protected in a way that I don’t think anyone would be able to recover it, including Commerand.”

  “Okay then. Back to why all the fuss?”

  “We have to take all precautions.”

  “I think I understand. Better safe than sorry.”

  “Exactly.”

  “This is all so crazy. I must be dreaming. NO. This is definitely a nightmare.”

  “You’ll be safe with me.”

  “Safe! With you? I haven’t felt safe ever since I met you. I don’t even know you. How can I trust your story is true? I can’t trust you either.”

  “I know. But you’re better off with me for now – unless you would like me to take you back to the rogglets,” she said with a mischievous smile.

  He jumped back and sat upright in the seat. With wide eyes he said, “NO! No thank you. I’ll take my chances with you.”

  She looked at him softly and said, “We’ll settle some of this out and get you somewhere safe.”

  He calmed and said, “Ok. I guess that’s good enough for now. Tell me more about you. How’d you get into the ancient relic business?”

  “I guess, well you know, I don’t really know.” Trey thought she was evading the question – stalling. “My father was a very important person. He was aware of magical items. He believed man had no business dabbling in the enchanted and forbid them. After he died, I married a big jerk. He was always forcing people to do things they didn’t want to do. It didn’t last. I kicked him out ...way out. After he was gone, and considering my father’s aversion for magical things, I focused on keeping the relics and artifacts away from the bad guys.”

  “When did you meet my grandpa?”

  She smiled and looked as if she were reminiscing on a lost romance, “Oh, I’ve known Patrick for many years. We go way back.”

  Trey curled his face. “Really? Way back? Back to when you were, what, twelve? How old are you? Thirty-two? Thirty-three?”

  She brought her eyes back to the road. “Yeah. I’m thirty-three. Good guess. What I mean by way back is that we’ve done so much together, it seems like we’ve known each other for a lifetime. Your grandfather was something special. He always had a joke handy. He was such a pleasure to work with. I met up with him every chance I could get.”

  “I wish I had known him.”

  “Me too. You would have loved him.”

  “Why didn’t he ever come see me?”

  “We have to work anonymously. If Commerand or anyone else working with him found out Patrick had a family, you all would be in danger.”

  “Like we are now?”

  “I don’t know how he found out. That’s something I hope to learn soon.”

  “He didn’t come around so he could protect us?”

  “Yeah. That’s what we do, protect those we love.”

  “I see. As crazy a
s it all sounds, it makes sense when you say it that way.”

  After a few minutes Trey asked, “Can you tell me a story? A story about grandpa?”

  “Oh gosh. There are so many.” Her eyes searched for a vivid memory. “Ah yes! You probably haven’t heard this one,” she said. “There was once this time when he and I were in Managua, Nicaragua. There was an attack by rebel forces on a party. Four people including the host were killed. The guardian of a relic was taken hostage along with several prominent businessmen and government officials. We hoped to rescue the guardian.

  “We arrived in Costa Rica then hopped over on a couple early 1970’s motorcycles. I remember racing him along the coast of Lago Cocibolca.” She shivered in her seat. “That was exhilarating. There’s nothing like the wind rushing past your face at 150 kilometers per hour.

  “We were stopped at the border. Usually there wouldn’t have been a problem, but the political situation was dire, and the weakening dictatorship wasn’t letting anyone in. Patrick wasn’t generally a man who backed down from a challenge. He sized the three guards up in about a minute’s worth of conversation.

  “I can almost hear him now,” she smiled wildly and said in a lower tone as she pretended to sound like Trey’s Cajun-accented grandfather, “I dell you what, slick. Ow bout you let us throo if I c’n beat y’all in a game of poker, if I c’n take dat big guy over dere in an arm wrestle and if I c’n successfully dodge ten of your best punches. If I fail at all three, l give you each twenty U.S. dollars.

  “Woo Ha ha! I didn’t know what he was doing. I thought for sure he’d lost his mind. I was pretty scared he just got us into a pile of trouble. These guys looked serious and carried military rifles. The lead guard Patrick was speaking to looked back at his colleagues, said a few sentences in Spanish, then turned expressionlessly to your grandfather who wore a cheesy grin. I mean, how could you not love this guy. He was negotiating with border guards when their country was in turmoil – smiling like a pig in a mud pit.”

  “Really? He did that? How’d it turn out?”

  “Terrible. He got beat in the card game, lost the arm wrestle and was nearly knocked out on the first punch.”