by W. C. Peever
“We’re just going to have to keep an eye out for danger, keep our heads down, and watch each other’s backs,” said Mick.
“Mick, I don’t want to put you in any more danger than I already have. Bailey is already in danger because of our friendship, but you can still get clear of us.”
Mick gave Charlie a disgruntled look and raised an eyebrow. “You serious? You need me. What’s a Jumper without a Guardian? And what kind of Guardian would I be if I deserted you now? Face it mate, you two are stuck with me.”
Charlie smiled. “Guess we are.”
“Hold on you two, I haven’t agreed! Why should I be…?”
“Shut up, Bailey.” Charlie replied. “The way I see it, we three are all in danger already. If Grayson is worried, then it’s a problem, and we need as much help as we can get. If we win this year’s competition…what was the hint again?”
“‘According to his virtue let us use him, with all respect and rites of burial.’ It’s from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar,” said Bailey.
Both boys looked at her like she had two heads. “Since when have you paid that kind of attention in school?” asked Charlie
“I have always gotten A’s; you just never bother to ask me about my grades. You were always too concerned about disappointing your mommy with your ever constant C’s.
Anyhow, I was Portia in the school’s production of Julius Caesar last fall. You were there. It obviously didn’t make a very great impression on you.” She crossed her arms.
“Sorry, Bailey. Guess I forgot.”
“Whatever, but it’s typical. All you boys ever see in a girl is a pretty face. You never think that there could be a brain between the braids.”
“You know that’s not true, Bailey. You’re my best friend, and you’re smart as –” Charlie grabbed for her hand, but she had already removed it from his reach.
“Forget it. I’m over it.”
“Well, since you’re the expert, what are they talking about?” asked Mick.
“It’s the last line in the play. Antony and Brutus have defeated the conspirators and…” She stopped and looked at Charlie, who had his hand raised. “Yes, Charlie?” She said with impatience.
“Conspirators?”
“Ok, from the beginning: The play isn’t really about Julius Caesar. It’s really about Caesar’s assassination and the power struggle afterwards. After his death his best friend, Marc Anthony, and his adopted son hunt down all of the conspirators and have them executed. But, now who’s in charge? At the end of the play, that’s the unanswered question. So when he says ‘let us use him’, they really mean to use his funeral as a way to gain support and power.”
“And how does all of this help us, Bailey?” asked Charlie.
“I don’t know. I think identifying the quote is the first step. If you don’t know the quote off hand you’d need to research it, but one clue might be the fact that it is written in iambic pentameter, but you…”
“Got it, it’s an obscure reference and we’re lucky to have you.”
“Agreed,” Bailey said smiling. “Now, the quote is about the death of a monarch who ushered in a civilization that changed the world. Caesar’s death was actually the birth of a more advanced civilization. Did you know that the Romans invented cement, and the recipe was lost until modern time? Over a thousand years! That’s really amazing.”
“Okay,” said Charlie, pacing back and forth on the cold marble floor, his footsteps echoing like the beats of a metronome. “So our clue is the death and burial of a very old, famous and incredibly important monarch, and somehow it connects to our world.” He paused and looked up at his friends. They both seemed to have come up with the same conclusion. “Mick, do you know if they ever found Merlin’s body? Was he buried here on the grounds?”
“No. Remember, Joelle told us he never returned from his last jump. That can’t be it, though, because you’d be the only one able to win the contest, seeing as you’re the only Jumper alive.” Mick stopped abruptly. “Only Jumper, I mean…”
“It’s fine. I never knew my father. And I don’t think that they would make us jump anywhere to find clues. I mean, that would mean the only students who could win would have to be teamed up with me. I wonder if…” He paused to think. “Is there a memorial to Merlin anywhere? A gravestone maybe?”
“Perhaps we need to have another discussion with Joelle.” Mick offered. The two boys began to walk towards the library. Bailey, however, remained staring out onto the court yard. “Bailey, you coming?” called Mick.
“There’s something else,” Bailey said distantly. Before Caesar was murdered, a soothsayer told him, ‘beware the Ides of March.’”
“So what?” replied Charlie.
“I think we need to figure out the clue before March fifteenth. I can’t explain it, but I have a feeling that the clue may only be valid until then. The connection is there. I can feel it.”
“If that’s the case, then we only have a month and we’d better get started.” This time all three of them ran off towards the library.
Chapter Eight
The Catacombs
The werecat, Joelle, paced back and forth in front of the library, flicking her tail and murmuring unkind and ungracious things under her breath when Charlie approached.
“Joelle, what’s wrong?”
“Well I believe it is obvious, now isn’t it?” snapped the werecat. “Someone has bolted the door – my door – shut from the inside.” The creature growled and swiped a paw across the heavy wooden door, leaving four deep gashes on it.
“No pet door?” snickered Mick.
“I think I can help,” Bailey announced. Putting on her new gloves and closing her eyes, she focused on the lock on the other side of the door. Nothing happened.
The cat sniffed loudly in disgust. “Inexperienced…” She murmured and glared at the young girl before her. “You have to picture what you want to move, in your mind. You must visualize the lock and then visualize an invisible hand reaching out and unlocking the bolt. Keep that focus and place your gloved hand on the door. Continue to hold your focus until the energy from your body runs down your arm and through the crystal in your glove.”
Bailey did as she was instructed. She could see the bolt, and she placed her gloved hand against the heavily grained wood and concentrated. Her hands shook with the energy running down her arms. It felt like holding on to her video game controller when it vibrated, except so much more powerful. Then suddenly there was a click from the other side of the door. She had done it! Instantly Joelle changed form and burst into the room with a tiger’s force. The room was empty.
“Impossible!” hissed Joelle. “They have to be in here!
There is no way out if they bolted the door from the inside!”
“Could they have mind warped us? I mean we just stopped Lance from…”
Joelle cut Bailey off. “Werecats’ minds cannot be easily altered. We are not as mentally fragile a species as you humans. No, something else is happening here and it is disturbing, to say the least.” Joelle continued to pace, prod, and sniff.
“No one is in here. Maybe someone locked the door from the outside, sort of the reverse of what I did, to play a trick on you,” suggested Bailey.
“Perhaps. If that is indeed the case, then they had better hope I never find out who they are.” Joelle circled her favorite pillow by the fireplace several times before finally sitting down. “Charlie, would you be as kind as to open me up a can of Alaskan Salmon, from my cupboard and pour me a glass of port? I need to relax. Can I offer the three of you refreshment?”
Before Bailey could accept the offer Mick spoke: “We actually came here to ask you some questions about this year’s quest.”
“I cannot answer any questions that would directly assist you above other contestants. However, I can answer any general questions you might have. What have you discovered thus far?”
“Well,” said Charlie placing a tray of food and drink in front
of Joelle, “Bailey recognised the quote as being from Julius Caesar, and based on that, we’re guessing that the next clue is entombed with either the body of Merlin, or some sort of ceremonial monument to him. So, we came here to ask you if such a place existed.”
Between laps and chomps Joelle managed to get out, “As I’ve said it is widely believed that he never returned from his final crystal placement. Hence, no body. As for a monument, there are more of those than I can count.”
“Well,” stuttered Mick, “it was a good idea.”
“Not really,” spat back the werecat. “A good idea would have gotten you somewhere.”
Mick muttered something inaudible and then sat down on one of the many brown leather chairs in front of the fireplace.
“Joelle, what happened to the first council, the ones who survived the attack?” asked Bailey.
“They continued the Order that Merlin established, but I really think that you are mewing up the wrong tree.” Joelle laughed, but received only blank stares.
“Mewing, like a cat, instead of barking, like a stupid dog…Oh never mind. Don’t you three have a class to go to or something?”
“Class? That means we missed lunch,” said Bailey, “and now we have to go to History.” She grabbed both of the boys by the hood of their cloaks and pulled them out the door. “Maybe they still have some sandwiches left. Thank you, Joelle.”
There were no sandwiches left in the dining halls, which put Bailey in a foul mood. “History class! Useless subject. I mean what’s the point?” she grumbled on her way up the stone stairs.
“Well, dear,” came a woman’s voice from behind. “Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, war being a most prominent example.” The woman, short and portly, was wearing a white dress with blue polka-dots under a black robe that was far too small to fasten around her stomach. Despite her proportions she was good-looking for a woman in her late forties. Her brown hair was perfectly curled and held back with a blue ribbon. She smiled sweetly at them. “It would be rude for us to continue staring without first introducing ourselves. I’m Professor Marie Testa Harrison-Gannon, but you may call me Professor Gannon. I will be your professor of History while you are here at Thornfield. No need to inform me of your names. Our Jumper and his friends do not need an introduction.”
“Um, no, ma’am.”
“Words, Mister Burrows – words should flow out eloquently. I will not chastise you further. That I shall leave to your Humanities professor. But for now, unless you relish being tardy, I suggest we hurry.” She shuffled past the children, her large rear-end pushing Charlie flat against the wall. The children looked at each other and hurried into the classroom. The rest of the students were already seated, notebooks out, pens ready.
“Mick, Charlie, Bailey you are late! Please take a seat.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie saw Lance and his cohorts laughing and whispering to each other. Mick, Bailey and Charlie found a table with three empty seats and took out their books. The room was warm and inviting with an aroma somewhere between vanilla and cinnamon. Candid photos of Professor Gannon’s family lined the walls, next to her many awards. “Please open your texts to page twenty-two.” She said smartly. “I hope everyone had a satisfying weekend, and that you have not completely forgotten the importance of studying history. That reminds me. Mr. MacAlcester, did you complete the three-thousand word essay on why history is important for your career as an Influencearian?”
“Yes, Ma’am.,” The boy seethed.
“Excellent. Then we can begin studying the origins of the second Order. Chapter two of your textbook begins with the establishment of the Order on the island of Crete. Mister MacAlcester, would you be as kind as to tell the class the name of the 2000 BC civilization the Order first organized within?”
Lance fumbled nervously with his book. “Mr. MacAlcester, did you neglect your homework over the weekend, perhaps to fix your hair for the Trials?” The class laughed, and Lance turned crimson.
Most of the students knew that Lance’s dyslexia made studying for him an almost impossible task. The old runes, the Latin translations, any written text blended together and confused Lance after a few hours in the poorly lit residence halls. Why would a teacher pick on him like this? A twinge of pity lodged in Charlie’s heart confusing his hatred for the boy. A girl at the table next to Charlie raised her hand. Lance’s face visibly relaxed.
The rather attractive girl stood up, her chair sliding back behind her without the squeak of metal against tile, an angelic move that no one else in the class was capable of, and she began to speak. “That would be the Minoan Civilization, which was founded on the island of Crete by a group of like minded individuals, off of what is now called the island of Santorini. Their civilization reached the height of its power under the famous King Minos, or as history books remember him, ‘Good King Minos.’” The girl promptly sat back down, her chair noiselessly returning to its position under her. Charlie was captivated. Her long, honey-blond hair cascaded down her back with the slightest hint of a wave. Her emerald green eyes seemed perfectly framed beneath her long fluttering eye lashes. She smiled at Charlie and mouthed the word “Hi.”
“Mr. Burrows, since you seem so keen on Miss Hatfield’s brilliant answer, perhaps you can tell us about how the Order came to be.”
Joelle had not gone that deeply into the past with the three of them. Charlie shifted uncomfortably in his seat.. He ransacked his brain for something halfway intelligent to say, determined not to look as incompetent as Lance had just moments before The he remembered something he heard Merlin had done, and hoped that it would be somehow relevant to the question.
“The early Druids set up a secret council within the Minoan civilization?” The classroom silently awaited the professor’s answer. Apparently, the entire class had neglected the reading.
A forced smile grew over Professor Gannon’s face, like a smile one wears at a dinner party when one eats something quite disgusting. . “You took the advice I gave you to heart, and have applied Merlin’s later story to earlier history. You have demonstrated both a brilliant aptitude for the study of history, and a serious sloth-esque behavior towards homework.” The class laughed nervously. “To be more precise, you are roughly correct.” She then went to the white board at the front of the class and began to scribble one line after another of unintelligible script. The Hatfield girl leaned over to speak with Charlie.
“Hey, my name is Matilda. Well, Tillie.” She giggled. “That was a good answer you gave. Incorrect, but good. You gained a few points with her and with me.” She smiled prettily and Charlie fell out of his chair. Bailey rolled her eyes and attempted to ignore the spectacle. “You were actually pretty close. Once Professor Gannon gets done drawing what honestly looks like a cow with three udders, I’m sure she’ll acknowledge that much.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at Charlie before returning to her notebook.
Charlie didn’t know it, but he was completely smitten, what he did know was that had never felt this way before. He was lightheaded, the room spinning. He was about to respond to Tillie when Professor Gannon spoke.
“As Mister Burrows was saying, the first Order organized within the budding civilization of the Greeks on the Island of Crete. The civilization of Greece flourished under the leadership of the Order, while the Vanari became the powerful enslavers of man under the Kingdom of Egypt.” Charlie could not remember much of the information beyond that. He could, however, tell anyone who asked exactly how many freckles Tillie had on her right cheek, right below her entrancing emerald eyes.
The bell outside the class room sounded and the students scuffled to get their notebooks and pens back inside their book bags. It was during this commotion that Tillie came up behind Charlie and tossed her hair. Bailey, seeing Tillie, made like she had to vomit. Tillie tapped Charlie on the shoulder.
“Can we talk a moment, Charlie? Your friends are welcome to come, too.” Charlie nodded and the four all walked into
a corner of the room, well out of earshot from the other students. “You were half right about the Julius Caesar quote. Actually it was really impressive of you, Bailey.”
Bailey blinked in disbelief. “Have you been spying on us?”
“Oh no! Not at all. Please don’t think that of me. I was in the library when you entered with the werecat. I was the one who locked the door.” The three friends stared at her in shock.
Mick was the first to regain speech. “Listen! I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but we searched that entire library, top to bottom. You were not there.”
Tillie flushed and in a whisper answered. “Well…no, you see…my ability, it is unique actually. I can…well…become invisible.” She paused to catch their reaction. “Please don’t tell anyone. My parents passed on the power of a Seer to me, and I can see the future, but I can also become invisible. My parents made me swear never to tell anyone. They said my very life would be in jeopardy. And so far I have been good; I’ve only told my boyfriend and you.” Charlie felt every organ in his body sink to his feet.
“Your boyfriend?” Bailey repeated glancing at Charlie.
“I met him when I first arrived two weeks ago. He’s a seventh year, and an Influencearian. I think you know him, Mick. He’s the captain of the green team.” Mick nodded. “Anyhow it’s just he, and now you, who know.”
Seventh year, thought Charlie. That means he’ll probably dump her after he graduates. The rekindled hope helped him to find his voice. “So why are you telling us this now? You must know that we’re friends of Joelle’s. Now we have to tell her it was you!”
“I was hoping that you wouldn’t. I actually hoped we could work together in the contest.”
“And why do we need you?” asked Bailey.
“Because I know what the quote means, and where to find the next clue. I was actually trying to get the next clue when you walked in.”
