by Lija Fisher
Douglas dropped his cane and in one swift motion pulled out a gun and fired right at Clivo. But one of the chupacabra’s paws darted out even faster and knocked the bullet away with a claw, a spark shooting into the air.
Immediately, the Ugly Merman unrolled its tongue and pulled the cage holding the Beast of Bray Road away from the helicopter. And then the blue tiger spat out a pearl that exploded on the ground in front of them, protecting Clivo and his team in a semicircle of blue fire that was whipped into a frenzy by the swirling helicopter blades.
“Oh my GOSH! That was so cool!” Thomas said, jumping up and down with glee.
Lana swatted his arm. “He’s just defeated us again, you clod!”
Douglas stared at Clivo through the flames, the flickering light casting a devilish glow upon his face. “If you think this is over, kid, you’re wrong. Dead wrong. There are a lot more of us in the evil resistance than you’ve even imagined. And we’re coming for you. And them.” He pointed a gnarly finger at the three cryptids, who all hissed or croaked back in defiance.
Clivo returned Douglas’s steely gaze. “If you come, we’ll rise up again.”
Douglas deepened his glare and muttered, “Stupid child.” He hoisted himself into the helicopter and was followed by Lana and Thomas. “We could have been something great, kid, you and me. You chose the wrong side.”
Clivo glanced at the cryptids next to him, all prepared to defend themselves—and him. “Actually, you antiquated jerk, I’m happy with the side I’m on.”
With a final menacing glare, Douglas revved the motor and the helicopter lifted up and away, disappearing into the night sky as Thomas waved a final goodbye.
XXI
Alex had his head turned around for so long that Clivo finally had to tap him on the shoulder. “Eyes on the road, please.”
“Huh?” Alex turned, his eyes as wide as a pair of full moons.
Clivo pointed forward, gently reminding him that he was flying an airplane. “We’re beginning to go into a bit of a nosedive.”
“Oh! Yes, yes. Gotta focus. Have some very precious cargo back there. Very precious indeed.” Alex righted the plane, but kept stealing glances behind himself and occasionally letting out a little giggle of joy. “I never thought I’d see it. Such a wonder!”
“Yeah, it’s something special, isn’t it?” Clivo turned around to look at the Otterman strapped into a seat behind them, its head bowed because of the airplane’s low ceiling. The creature was purring while it happily munched on a chocolate bar.
Stephanie and Amelia sat next to the beast, going over their maps of where the best place to drop it off would be. Amelia leaned forward. “Alex, I think the airport in Sitka would be the most remote place to drop off Otty. Don’t you think?”
“Absolutely, absolutely,” Alex said, stealing another glance behind him. “That’s right around where the most sightings of the beast—excuse me—of Otty occurred before it disappeared.”
“And it seems like there should be plenty of sea otters around, so Otty won’t be lonely there,” Stephanie said, gently stroking the Otterman’s hand.
The beast let out a little roar of delight and took another bite of its chocolate bar.
Clivo swiveled his head around. “How do you think the others are doing?”
Amelia let out a laugh. “Adam was pestering the Honey Island Swamp Monster so much that I bet it’s already wrapped him up again in those ropes of sticky boogers it emits from its nostrils.”
“Yeah, we probably shouldn’t give those guys the tatzelwurm to take back home,” Stephanie said. “One poke from Charles and they’d be unconscious for a week again.”
“It would serve them right.” Amelia sniffed. “It’s not the cryptids’ job to show people their special powers. The boys need to leave them in peace.”
“Although the gunni slime was pretty neat,” Stephanie said with a laugh.
“It was,” Amelia added, also laughing.
Alex shook his head. “You kids have certainly been on some adventure, haven’t you?”
Clivo didn’t even need to think about his response. “Yes, we definitely have.”
After Douglas and the Luxembourgers had fled, Clivo called Mrs. Cooper from the dungeon and asked her to please untie Mr. Cooper and come help them. Mr. and Mrs.Cooper had been so busy making sure that Jerry and the Blasters (all of whom stayed unconscious for the next few days) were okay that they barely noticed the room full of legendary creatures. The same could not be said for Aunt Pearl, however, who had hidden in a corner and let out a little panicked squeal anytime a creature came close to her. She was finally calmed down by the blue tiger, which curled up at her feet and let her scratch it behind the ears. Dayea simply walked around the room cheerfully saying hello to every cryptid, finally meeting creatures like herself for the first time.
“Thanks for helping us return the cryptids to their homes, Alex. I’m really sorry I can’t pay you,” Clivo said.
Alex swung his head around from staring at the Otterman. “Pay me? Nonsense. There’s no greater payment than to be of service to others.” Alex let out another chortle of disbelief. “And seeing that these legends are real and well cared for by you kids has made me rich beyond my wildest dreams.”
“And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how important it is that you keep it a secret that these creatures are real. Not everyone wants to make sure they’re well cared for. We’re kind of a minority in that department,” Clivo said.
Alex quit laughing and looked at Clivo earnestly. “The world needs its mysteries, Clivo, like I’ve always told you. And you won’t catch me spoiling that.” Otty reached forward to offer Alex some of its chocolate, sending Alex into a fresh round of giggles. “Although I am certainly honored that you let me in on the secret. Honored indeed. It’s a secret I’ll keep in my heart forever.”
“Thanks, Alex, I knew we could count on you,” Clivo said, twisting in his seat so he could pat Otty’s furry hand. “With all the bad guys out there, we’ve realized that we need to bring more good guys onto our team.”
A high-pitched voice squeaked way in the back: “Count me in on that, too, Mr. Wren! I’m one of the good guys!” Serge said.
Amelia looked behind her. “You are indeed, Serge, and we’re so grateful.”
“Definitely,” Stephanie added. “There’s no way we could have snuck Otty through the airport without your help.”
“Anytime, you guys. We’ll get the rest of the folks home safely, too!” Serge said.
Clivo leaned back in his seat, and for the first time in a while took in a long breath of relaxation as Alex flew their plane through the clouds toward Alaska. The evil resistance was still out there, but the good-guy numbers were growing.
* * *
Two weeks later, after all the cryptids were back in their proper homes, Clivo was sitting in the Coopers’ living room with Dayea. Everyone else had gone to bed exhausted, still with so many questions. Clivo and Pearl had to find a new place to live where Douglas couldn’t find them, as well as figure out how to keep Dayea hidden on every full moon. They also had to decide how to keep searching for the immortal with no money and with the Blasters heading back east because school would be starting soon. So many questions, and no easy answers. But for the moment, everything was calm and Clivo was enjoying a nice talk with Dayea, who sipped steaming ginger tea from a mug.
“Dayea, do you know anything about the Lost Prophecies of Nostradamus?” Clivo asked as he chewed on a moist chocolate brownie.
Dayea let out a laugh. “Nostradamus? He was always such a funny fellow.”
Clivo practically dropped his brownie. “You knew Nostradamus?”
“Oh, sure,” Dayea said, taking a sip of her drink. “Went to him when he was a doctor in France, as I had the sniffles. Became friends and drank tea together. He loved his prophecies! What is this one, honey?”
Clivo didn’t even have to think about what the prophecy said; he had memorized it word for w
ord long before. “All creatures, one blood. Some remain hidden, others come fore. In one who is hidden, the blood is gone, replaced by the spring of life. A silver lightning drop of eternity.”
Dayea thought for a moment, then nodded. “That is a good one! I’m glad he cannot hear me say that, though! Nostradamus always had a very big ego. Nice man, but so pompous!”
“It is a good prophecy,” Clivo agreed as the picture of Dayea hanging out with Nostradamus threatened to make his head explode. “I just wish we could find the immortal.”
“How do you know it is not found already?” Dayea asked as she rocked back and forth in her chair.
Clivo paused with the brownie halfway to his mouth. “Well, if someone had already found the immortal, I’m sure the whole world would have heard about it by now.”
“Why, honey?” Dayea asked. “If you found it, you would not do that.”
“Yeah, but I’m one of the good guys. One of the few.”
“Really?” Dayea asked with a twinkle in her eye. “I have lived for long time, honey, and there are a lot more kind people than nasty people. Buckets more.”
Clivo thought about that. “But, I don’t understand, you said living this long has been lonely. I thought that meant you didn’t have any friends.”
Dayea waved dismissively. “Oh, Dayea has had lots of friends! Always! People in every century were so nice. Of course, they get scared when I eat a whole cow at the full moon. But otherwise people are very sweet to me, like you! I get lonely because I outlive everybody. Life gets very sad when you are always saying goodbye.”
Clivo put down the brownie and wiped his hands on a napkin, his mind whirling with fresh possibilities. “So, you really think it’s possible someone has already found the immortal and is protecting it, the way I would?”
“Very possible,” Dayea said with a sip of her tea. “You are a wonderful person, honey, but you are not the only wonderful person on the planet.”
“You know, Dayea, I think you’re right,” Clivo said, staring off into the distance as a new world opened up to him. His mind a million miles away, he stood and began walking to his room.
“Where are you going, honey?” Dayea asked.
Clivo turned around. “I’m not supposed to go anywhere by myself, but it’ll be faster this way. When the others ask about me, please tell them I’ll be back soon and make sure they know that I won’t be alone on this quest.”
“Who are you going to be with?” Dayea asked.
Clivo smiled. “The other good guys.”
* * *
It took Clivo a few days to get back to Egypt. Alex had talked a fellow pilot into letting Clivo hitch a ride to Israel on her cargo jet, but from there he got stuck. He couldn’t enter Egypt directly because his passport was on the “Do Not Enter” list, thanks to Tim and the Wasi, so he had to figure out another way to get into the country.
He had planned to simply walk across the border, as one can do across state lines in America. Unfortunately, he soon discovered that the border between Israel and Egypt was secured by a concrete wall topped with barbed wire. A wall that Clivo was now staring at in frustration.
He sat on a sandy hill eyeing the guard towers and security cameras that kept watch on the wall. The morning air was relatively cool, which he was grateful for since he was wearing appropriate clothing for the area that included long pants and a shirt. But he knew from his time in the desert that once the sun was high in the sky, it was going to be a scorcher.
Clivo scanned the wall that stretched for miles in either direction and grunted. He wasn’t sure if the barrier was meant to keep people in or out, but either way, getting to Egypt seemed impossible. He had come so far in his quest to protect the world from the evil resistance only to be stopped, quite literally, by a wall.
“If you’re thinking of climbing it, don’t bother. It’s electric and will light you up like a firecracker,” a voice said behind him.
Clivo whirled around to face a red-haired man with light brown freckles across his nose. The man was casually chewing on what looked like a soda straw that should have been recycled ages ago.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Clivo said, quickly scanning the man to see if he was holding any weapons or seemed ready to attack. He knew the tracking chip in him shouldn’t be working anymore, but still, it never hurt to be on guard for the evil resistance.
“You didn’t hear me because I’m The Sneaker,” the man said, gesturing to himself.
Clivo tilted his head. “You mean like the tennis shoe?”
The man had to think about that for a moment before blurting out, “No! Not like the tennis shoe! Like a spy! You know, who sneaks around quietly so people don’t hear him!”
“Oh right, sorry,” Clivo said, rubbing his eyes. “I’m kind of jet-lagged and not really thinking straight right now. And you startled me, too, so there’s that.”
The man gestured to himself again. “Because I’m The Sneaker.”
“Right,” Clivo said, looking around to see if there were any more Sneakers sneaking about. “So, um, can I ask why you snuck up on me?”
The man pulled the straw from his mouth and pointed toward the wall. “The only people who come here and stare longingly at that wall are people who are desperate to be on the other side of it.”
Clivo kept his mouth shut. He still didn’t know who this “Sneaker” was or what he wanted. Clivo had been attacked one too many times to trust anybody the first time he met them.
The Sneaker continued, “No response, huh? You’re a man who keeps his secrets. I can respect that. But if you need to get on the other side of that wall, I know someone who can help.”
“You do?” Clivo asked. “That’d be amazing. Who?”
Once again, the man gestured to himself with a sweep of his arm. “That would be me. Name’s Gideon.”
“I guess your name isn’t something you keep secret?” Clivo replied.
Gideon dropped his head forward with a sigh. “Shoot. I always do that.” He rummaged in his back pocket and pulled out a small pad of paper and a pencil and muttered to himself while writing. “‘Don’t tell people your name while in spy mode.’”
“You’re keeping notes?” Clivo asked.
Gideon shook the pad of paper in Clivo’s face. “Of course! How else am I to learn from my mistakes?” He pocketed the pad and pencil, then smoothed his hair. “Okay then, as I was saying, I’m the local Sneaker and I can get you across that border.”
“How?” Clivo asked.
“Easy,” Gideon said, putting the straw back in his mouth. “With my camel.”
Clivo glanced behind Gideon, but all he saw was an old tan Toyota pickup truck. “I don’t see any camels.”
Gideon smiled at him mischievously. “Exactly. I call my truck my camel. It’s a code word.”
“I see. Very sneaky,” Clivo replied. “So, can you get me across and maybe drive me to Naqada?”
“Getting across is easy. As I mentioned, I’m a Sneaker. And my brother is a border guard, so he’ll just wave me across ’cause he owes me a favor. But getting to Naqada will cost you. That’s a good two-day drive.”
Clivo dug into his wallet and pulled out his remaining petty cash. “I can give you five hundred dollars?”
Gideon chewed on his straw. “That’s almost two thousand shekels. Not a good price, but not a bad one. Why do you need to get to Naqada?”
Clivo shrugged. “I’d prefer not to say, if that’s okay with you.”
“Wow. You’re really good at keeping secrets,” Gideon said, obviously impressed.
“Yeah, I’ve kinda had a lot of practice.”
Gideon motioned for Clivo to follow him to the truck. “Well, it’s a long drive. Maybe you can give me some pointers on how you do your secret keeping.”
Clivo walked beside him, a spring in his step now that he was on his way again. He was so close to the end of his quest he could feel it. “You mean besides simply not saying them out loud?”
Gideon stopped and pulled out his pad and paper again, making a note. “I like that solution. Not too hard to remember, either.” Gideon pocketed the pad and pencil. “Okay, Keeper of Secrets, time for The Sneaker to deliver you to your destination.”
* * *
The next day, Clivo was finally standing in the ruined city where he had first seen the Salawa. It was nighttime, and the moon was just peeking out from behind some hazy clouds. The air was humid and the sand still held the heat of the day.
Clivo put down his backpack and softly called for the beast. He knelt down and whispered words in Arabic, holding his hand out in a welcoming gesture. Calling a cryptid shouldn’t be so easy, but he was hoping the Salawa might recognize him from his previous visit. The Salawa seemed like a curious creature that was comfortable around humans, as evidenced by its interaction with the Wasi.
Clivo had waited patiently for almost an hour, jumping at every shift in the shadows, when the Salawa suddenly peeked around a crumbled mud-brick wall, its long snout sniffing the air. Its black eyes fell on Clivo and flashed recognition.
“There you are,” Clivo whispered in Arabic. “Come. I won’t hurt you.”
The creature hesitated, walking toward him and then back a couple of times before finally approaching and sitting back on its haunches. It looked up at Clivo with the saddest puppy-dog eyes, as if desperately searching for a moment of connection and kindness.
Clivo stroked the creature’s head with one hand and slowly pulled the blood sampler from his backpack with the other. In one smooth motion, he gently pierced the Salawa’s skin and quickly rubbed it. The beast shied away for a moment, but then settled down for more petting.
This time, Clivo didn’t have to wait for the blood sampler to give him an answer. He could clearly see in the moonlight that the blood traveling up the chamber was silver. It was merely a formality when the sampler finally blinked IMMORTAL.
Clivo had barely a moment to process his feelings of relief, joy, and fear at being so close to something so powerful when a foot scraped on the sand behind him. Clivo shot his hands over his head, the blood sampler dropping forgotten into his backpack.
