The Named

by Marianne Curley

  No matter how stunning, I know what this is. Ethan’s not fooling me for a second. It’s an illusion. I recall how he restored his ancestor’s old cabin, so while I’m impressed with this spectacular sight, I’m hardly reassured.

  ‘It’s not happening, Ethan. Forget it. This is nothing but an illusion. The chasm is still there.’

  ‘Sure, but if it makes the crossing easier, why not use it? I did this for you.’

  ‘You don’t get it.’ I throw my hands in the air. ‘There’s nothing out there! There’s no bridge! You can’t fool me.’

  He groans at my lack of faith. ‘Isabel, if I cross, will you follow?’

  I have to think about this. ‘If you cross and live, I will follow. But that’s not going to happen. You’re not really going to cross, are you?’

  He doesn’t even hesitate. I reach out to stop him, adamant he’s walking to his death, but unbelievably his feet don’t drop through the first wooden plank, not one centimetre. He keeps walking until he gets to the other side, then turns and waves. ‘Your turn!’

  I gulp. What on earth have I agreed to? OK, I just saw Ethan do it, but he’s got so much more faith than me. He’s been in this Guard thing for twelve years. That’s eleven years and eleven months longer than I have.

  ‘Come on, or the illusion will fade and then where will you be?’

  Still here on solid ground, the thought comes. ‘All right,’ I call back, but softly. ‘Better an illusion of wood beneath my feet than nothing at all,’ I grumble, close my eyes, and take my first step.

  ‘The left!’ Ethan yells. ‘Keep to the left side!’

  Quickly I move to the far left, gripping the loose rope railing and almost losing my balance. The bridge rocks. I try to steady myself, eventually easing my grip on the railing as I become aware of just how real the bridge is beginning to feel. But I don’t dawdle. I have no idea how long Ethan’s illusion is set to last. Hurrying the last few steps, I make it across, my knees as liquid as golden syrup.

  I run straight into Ethan’s open arms. He helps me straighten up. We burst out laughing. For me it’s just relief, while he’s probably laughing at what he believes is my ungrounded lack of faith.

  I glance over my shoulder just in time to see the bridge gradually break up and disappear without a sound.

  We move on, the terrain now subtly changing. The path is less clear, completely obliterated in places by mounds of dirt, gravel and puddles which form little trickling streams in low-lying areas.

  All this water makes me wonder. ‘Where exactly is this ancient city?’

  ‘Under the lake.’

  ‘Really? That’s a scary thought. All that water overhead.’

  ‘I know. But we’re safe. Don’t worry.’

  Far from convinced, I follow Ethan as he clambers over a pile of boulders, wondering whether there’s a fast exit somewhere, should it be needed. The possibility of having to get out in a hurry starts niggling at my brain. We’ve been descending now for a couple of hours. ‘This path we’re sort of following, is it the only way in? Or out?’

  ‘There’s another entrance at the bottom of the lake, I’m told. But the path directly linked to Arkarian’s chamber is the easiest.’

  My chest tightens but I try to ignore it, reminding myself that so far there hasn’t been a problem with air. Don’t go inventing one! Ethan pulls a rope out from my pack, sufficiently distracting my anxious thoughts.

  ‘Here, tie this around that pillar over there, will you?’ He looks at me half-frowning, half laughing. ‘Do I need to ask if you know how to tie a secure knot?’

  I don’t answer. Instead, I take the rope and do the job, double-checking the knot with a firm tug.

  Ethan smiles and shakes his head. ‘I didn’t think so.’

  I follow Ethan down the rope to a lower level. Here the path disappears beneath some sort of cave-in. It takes us a few minutes to clear the way. We keep moving, always downwards. The original brick path is almost nonexistent now, but the direction is still relatively clear. Ethan consults his map and instructions occasionally, and sometimes we stop just to catch our breath and have a drink or something to eat.

  ‘We’re nearly there,’ Ethan says, glancing back at me while munching into an apple.

  ‘Watch out!’

  With his limited sight down here, and momentary distraction, he nearly walks straight into a brick wall.

  ‘Is this what we’re looking for?’ I wonder.

  ‘No. But hang on, I remember something about this wall.’ He gets out his instruction sheet again and starts to read. ‘“No need for keys. Blue is safe. Red you freeze.”’

  ‘What?’ I lean over his shoulder to have a look, reading the same line. ‘I don’t get it. What does it mean?’

  Ethan runs his hand over the bricks. After a second I hear a soft click, and a doorway appears, the bricks simply vanishing. We step through and find ourselves in a long, narrow hallway. Ethan goes to take a step. I yank him back, running his torch from left to right, showing him what he couldn’t see – a pattern of crossing lights, like laser beams, some blue, some red, blocking our path at different heights and angles.

  ‘Right,’ he says. ‘Now I remember.’

  ‘How did you and Arkarian get past them last time you were here?’

  He peers down at the beams nearest the ground. ‘Well, I crawled under them and Arkarian used his wings.’ He looks me up and down. ‘You could probably do it that way.’

  The lowest beam, a red one, is about a hand span from the ground. ‘You must have been a scrawny five-year old.’

  ‘Hmm, well, we haven’t come this far to turn back now.’

  Pulling a pencil from his pocket he tests the first beam, which is blue. Nothing happens. The next beam is red. As the pencil touches it, it ices over, making a sharp cracking sound. It splits into two. Ethan looks back at me and gulps.

  It takes us both ages to work through the beams. At times we have to bend our bodies into shapes I never dreamed possible. Finally, Ethan makes it through and collapses on the ground. By the time I get to the last red beam I’m feeling the strain. My calves ache from having to hold them up so high or at odd angles. But I get a second wind as there’s only one red beam left. It crosses the path at about hip height and I decide to step over the top of it. I get one leg almost across when I realise I’ve misjudged my own height. I catch Ethan’s eye and he jumps up, helping me over. I almost make it, except I lose my balance, my arm swinging wide, and the sleeve of my jumper catches the beam. It freezes the entire sleeve. Ice hits my arm, making it go numb. Ethan helps me get it off.

  He throws it to the ground, where the sleeve shatters into a thousand little pieces. ‘You didn’t want that anyway, did you?’

  I take a last look at my ruined jumper, an old favourite. At least it’s not my arm lying there in pieces. ‘Wasn’t my colour.’

  Ethan takes off and I follow him. A door appears of its own accord behind me, sealing in the coloured lasers. It has goose bumps breaking out on my skin that have nothing to do with the fact that I’m now not wearing a jumper. ‘Um, these unmarked doors and invisible bridges will be there on our way back, won’t they, Ethan?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  His distraction, as if he hasn’t a care in the world, irritates me. I go to grab his arm when I see what he’s come up against this time. It’s a door, heavy-looking and made of a grey shiny metal like steel or chrome.

  ‘It’s silver.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Pretty much, from what I can remember. It’s the vault.’

  ‘How do we get through this … this vault?’

  ‘I think …’ He consults Arkarian’s instructions to be sure. ‘Oh, yeah, that’s right.’

  ‘What? Let me see that.’ I take the sheet from his hands, mumbling with annoyance, ‘All these booby traps! I wish I could meet the person who set these stupid contraptions in the first place.’

  Ethan’s eyes open wide. ‘Isabel, no!’
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br />   ‘What?’ I ask quickly, but get no answer. Ethan is backing away as the vault door has started to open. ‘What did I do?’ I scream at his alarmed face.

  ‘We only had to make a wish, that’s all. We could have asked for the door to open, but you went and asked to meet its maker.’

  I look in alarm at the opening door. Annoyed-sounding growls from within let us know that we’re suddenly not alone any more. ‘Oh, no!’

  The door opens wider, and as the dust starts settling, the figure of a man appears, brushing dust off his checked flannelette jacket. For an instant, I can’t believe my eyes and have to blink hard. The man takes a step towards us and I gasp out loud. ‘Jimmy?’

  ‘Hello, Isabel,’ he says, his voice like I’ve never heard it before – mature and, well, like a real man’s voice. Also his eyes, even though they’re definitely Jimmy’s eyes, appear more, hell, I don’t know … intelligent somehow.

  ‘Jimmy?’

  Ethan comes up beside me. ‘Jimmy, as in your mother’s boyfriend, right?’

  I nod, stunned. ‘Uh-huh.’

  Ethan recovers first and takes the hand Jimmy has extended. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘Well, I would say a pleasure, except pleasure was what I was doing before Isabel ordered me here.’

  ‘I didn’t know—’

  ‘It’s all right, Isabel. Some things are meant to happen, and somehow I think this may have been one of them.’

  ‘The Prophecy?’ I ask him, still confused about it all. ‘Did you really …? How did you … come to make these traps?’

  ‘There came a need to protect the city,’ he says and thumps his chest. ‘And I was asked to do it.’ He points over his shoulder to where the path splits into three. ‘Let me save you some time: take the middle path. The left will kill you.’

  ‘And the right?’ Ethan asks.

  ‘Ah, that’ll just bury you alive.’

  ‘And there’s a difference?’ I can’t help asking.

  ‘Just remember the middle path.’

  ‘Anything else we should know?’ Ethan asks hopefully, after all, it appears Jimmy would know.

  He shakes his head. ‘Can’t think of a thing, oh, except remember to reverse the rules on the way out – you know, right side of bridge, red beam is safe, that sort of thing. Now I’ve got to go, your mum’s cooking me ravioli bolognaise. My favourite. And I was standing right behind her when you wished me here.’

  I give a little laugh that comes out all high-pitched. It’s my nerves I realise, still trying to re-gather my senses.

  ‘I’ll tell her you’re going to be late, and that you’re OK. She worries about you, Isabel.’

  He puts his hand up to wave as he starts to disappear. I grab his arm quickly. ‘Mum isn’t—?’

  He peels off my fingers. ‘She knows nothing. It’s got to stay that way, otherwise she could get hurt.’

  I stare at the empty space Jimmy leaves behind until Ethan takes my elbow, giving me a tug. ‘Come on, you heard Jimmy. It must be getting very late.’

  We take the middle path, which is unlike all the other paths so far. It’s paved in silver bricks and the walls are lined with silver. At the end of it we come to a clearing of sorts. Ethan starts to run around like an excited child. ‘I remember this.’

  I follow him around a circular brick wall. He finds an opening and after a few twists and turns I realise we’ve entered a maze. But luckily Ethan seems to know where he’s going and before long, panting and excited and filled with raw energy, he leads me to a wall several metres high and several more across, engraved from top to bottom and side to side with pictures and figures and hieroglyphic writing.

  ‘This is it!’ Ethan exclaims.

  I walk from one end to the other shaking my head. ‘It’s beautiful, but … I can’t read any of it.’

  ‘It’s in code.’

  ‘Oh great. I suppose you brought a code decipherer in your backpack?’

  ‘Very funny. We have to do it ourselves.’

  ‘Of course, what could I be thinking? You know we’re already late for dinner. How long do you think this is going to take?’

  He just smiles at me, which infuriates me more. I hate it when he’s so smug. It’s all right when I show him up. That’s different. He deserves it when he assumes I’m incompetent at guy stuff like wrestling and archery and outdoor survival.

  In minutes he explains the code. And like any code, once you know it, it’s surprisingly simple. Every seventh letter is written in English, except the letter is turned on its side, back-to-front, or some other twisted version.

  I pull out my notebook and pen, and together we start working on the code. It takes us ages ’cause the wall is huge, the Prophecy longer than I expected. Finally we have all the letters and sit down, our backs against the silver wall, physically exhausted but mentally psyched up.

  I flip the pages back to the start, then offer the book to Ethan. ‘You do it. You read the Prophecy.’

  He gives me a funny look. ‘Why me?’

  ‘I don’t know, this whole business just freaks me out I guess. And you’ve heard these words before, so there shouldn’t be any shocks.’

  ‘I can’t remember much from when I was five, Isabel. But here, give me that.’ He takes the notebook and starts to read.

  I close my eyes and let the words flow over me.

  Before the world can be free

  A bloom of murdered innocence shall be seen

  In the woods above the ancient city of Veridian

  Where nine identities shall be revealed.

  It will come to pass that a king shall rule

  But not before a leader pure of heart awakens

  And an ageless warrior with an ancient soul

  Shall guide with grace and providence.

  Beware, nine shall see a traitor come and go

  From whence a long and bitter war will follow

  And the Named shall join in unity

  Yet suspicion will cause disharmony.

  A jester shall protect, a doubter cast a shadow

  And a brave young warrior will lose his heart to death

  Yet none shall be victorious until a lost warrior returns

  And the fearless one emerges from a journey led by light and strength.

  Take heed, two last warriors shall cause grief as much as good

  From the midst of suspicion one shall come forth

  The other seeded of evil

  Yet one shall be victorious while the other victorious in death.

  We sit in silence for a minute and try to absorb these words, try to make sense of them. It occurs to me that Ethan has heard this text twice now, so the Prophecy should be clearer to him. ‘So what does it all mean?’ I ask.

  He looks at me blankly, giving a slight lift to his shoulders. ‘Well, the ageless warrior with an ancient soul, I think that’s—’

  ‘I know that one. That’s Arkarian.’

  He goes silent, which makes me suspect he knows more about this Prophecy than he wants to reveal.

  ‘Are you also described in this Prophecy?’ I ask.

  His mouth opens but no words come out. ‘Ethan, tell me what you know. I’m involved now. I need to know. Isn’t that why you brought me here today?’

  ‘OK. I think you’re mentioned in it.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Yeah, look …’ He points to a line about midway down the second page. ‘I reckon you’re the one referred to as the fearless.’

  I can’t help scoff at this, while my eyes skim over the rest of that line. ‘A journey led by light and strength.’ I don’t get it and glance at Ethan. His right leg has suddenly been afflicted by the shakes. ‘What about you?’ I ask. ‘You’re in this Prophecy, aren’t you?’

  His eyes flick away. He’s not going to tell me. But he knows, and this knowledge makes him uncomfortable and nervous, and maybe even a little scared. ‘Which line refers to you, Ethan?’

  He starts to get up, brushing dirt off his j
eans in the process. I get up also, determined to make him tell me. ‘Which line is it? I can tell you know.’

  ‘I don’t know. Really. I’m only guessing.’

  ‘OK, so what’s your guess?’

  He hesitates, and I think he’s never going to answer, but just keep staring off into the darkness beyond the part of the maze the torch-light reveals. ‘All right, I think I’m the brave young warrior.’

  I snatch the notebook from his hand, flicking back to that particular line. When I find it, my lungs force themselves to expand. ‘Will lose his heart to death,’ I whisper.

  Silence follows, and the enormity of it here, in this giant decorated tomb of a city, makes me feel claustrophobic suddenly. A crushing feeling descends, smothering me. I gulp in another loud breath.

  Ethan snatches back the notebook and shoves it deep into my backpack. ‘It’s late. Let’s get out of here. We can worry about those words some other time when there’s more air to breathe. Just be careful where you put the damn thing. OK?’

  I nod and begin to follow him out of the maze, but my mind can’t stop going over the lines that keep repeating themselves in my thoughts. To think one of those lines might actually refer to me – what exactly does it mean? OK, some of that Prophecy doesn’t make sense to me, but some of it does; and it’s those particular words and phrases that scare me half to death.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Ethan

  Isabel gets her mission. She’s going to need her healing skills, and the use of her sixth sense too. There’s a girl in Massachusetts in the year 1759, about our age, who’s plagued with ill health. Her name is Abigail and she should be leaving her childhood ailments mostly behind by now, but she’s not getting better. On the contrary, she’s drawing dangerously close to death. Many contagious diseases like diphtheria, measles and smallpox, killed children of this period. But Arkarian suspects foul play.