by Earl, Collin
“Contrary to popular belief, not everyone died in the 1889 disappearances of Coren Valley. An explorer named Milary Dean not only survived, but also had some idea of what happened to everyone. Unfortunately, she disappeared after Washington authorities assumed she was responsible for the state of the town.”
Several voices objected almost at once, but Grayson stifled them all.
“I know what y’all are gonna say. I understand that it doesn’t make any sense that everyone blamed her, but we are talking about some really scared people. They weren’t thinking logically. Everyone but her was gone. Not a trace of any of the other townsfolk, only massive claw-like marks left in the buildings and a dark, oily ooze in the streets. As stupid as it was, they assumed she was responsible.”
The objections were replaced by an attentive silence.
“Two days after the incident, Milary disappeared and was never seen or heard from again, at least not in the physical sense of the word.”
Grayson pulled out a small electronic device. Monson wanted to say it was a phone but it was a bit too big. It looked more like a tiny computer. He touched the screen, bringing up a logo: Windows Veranda 2.0. He spoke to the computer.
“Simon. Program directive: Firefox 3000.”
The pocket PC sprang to life as the browser loaded. The small group watched as Grayson’s fingers moved quickly across the touch-based keyboard. He continued like nothing had happened.
“Years later, actually two years ago to be exact, treasure hunters claimed to have found Ms. Dean’s journal, a journal that gave a strange account of that day back in 1889. In the record—we can debate whether it’s real or not later—Milary talks about the town’s obsession with the Gardens and how new exploration tunnels were being excavated constantly, mostly at the base of Kellos, the northern peak of the Four Lords. Milary decided to try something a bit different; the account doesn’t say where. She probably didn’t want her discovery written down, but her journal says she found an entrance to the upper caverns of the Four Lords. She followed it through, and to make a long story short—”
Monson drew the conclusion. “She found the Garden of the Gods.”
“Two points for Mr. Grey.”
Casey laughed. “There’s goes the cultural anthropologist position, eh?”
Grayson continued. “Milary exited her undisclosed location and eventually made her way back to town. Only there wasn’t anyone in town. You know the rest.”
“What?” spouted Monson indignantly. “That’s it? The journal didn’t say anything else?”
Grayson shrugged. “We don’t know, as the family has Milary’s journal under lock and key. Doesn’t surprise me. They are those sort of people.”
Monson cocked the eyebrow. “Those sort of people? You sound like you know them.”
“I do know them, Grey. And so do you. Milary Dean is the great, great grandmother of Dean Dayton.”
Grayson showed the others his pocket PC. He tapped the story that discussed Milary, the dean, and the legal battle surrounding the journal. A photo of the journal and the family magnified at Grayson’s touch. Dean Dayton’s smug expression came into focus.
Monson tried to exclaim, but his throat had gone dry. Dean Dayton, someone he had almost totally forgotten. Monson followed the thought, directing it at Kylie.
“So let me see if I can guess where all this is going. You think that Sage was looking for this Garden of the Gods, attempted to get ahold of the journal, and disappeared because of it?”
Kylie pulled her hand through her hair. “I honestly don’t know. That’s why I need Sage’s journal. I need to know what she found and the possible location of her hideaway, if there was one, and I need to know before Baroty finishes ripping this place apart.”
Monson asked the question without thinking. “So how does the Diamond play into all this?”
Kylie’s expression turned questioning. “No idea. Before I got to school and did some digging, I didn’t know they were friends, and I haven’t found the courage to directly ask him. I guess I can’t really bring myself to open up to him—something about Peterson seems…off.”
Monson chuckled inwardly. He knew that feeling all too well.
“Has Damion actually spoken to you about Sage?” Indigo asked. “Surely he knows you’re his sister.”
Kylie shook her head. “The fact that they are friends just came up recently—and no he hasn’t mentioned it, though we haven’t exactly had much opportunity to speak.”
Kylie looked over at Monson. “I actually owe you an apology Monson.”
Monson cocked the eyebrow. “For what exactly?”
“The first day of school.”
The first day of school…an obvious reference to the time when Kylie balled him out. He had totally forgotten about that.
“Oh don’t worry about it. I haven’t given it a second thought.”
“Don’t you want to know why?”
“Not really. Wait, you weren’t simply hormonal?”
Kylie smiled. “I was hiding in plain sight.”
Monson smiled back. “Whatever that means.”
Artorius raised a hand. “Question. And maybe we already went over this and I just missed it. But how did Casey get Sage’s journal?”
Kylie addressed Artorius. “I found the journal in the library’s lost and found. Sage was a big fan of the library. I looked in her old room and found squat–nothing from her. No pull-away floorboards or removable panels. So I figured she didn’t leave anything around there. I must have dropped it the night I was running from Baroty’s men. Cassius picked it up. ”
“How did you figure that out?” said Artorius.
“I knew I had it with me when I was running away from those goons. I also knew that someone jumped them—the rumor mill here at Coren should not be underestimated,” said Kylie anticipating the question.
She continued, “Once I heard what happened to them—short term memory loss, burnt hair—I knew it was Casey.”
“So what’s your next step?”
“Get the journal back,” said Kylie, “and hopefully figure out what happened to Sage.”
Everyone in the group glanced at Casey, who stared back defiantly. “Fine, but I take no responsibility for what happens.”
He stood and made his way towards the door. “I’ll be right back.”
Monson was not finished, however. He still had questions. “Grayson, you said that this journal of Milary’s was found only a couple of years ago, right?”
“Correct as usual,” replied Grayson calmly. “Why do you ask?”
Monson was not sure, but he answered anyway. “That seems to be a common theme these days, doesn’t it?”
They all shifted their attention to him, staring with blank looks.
“Well, it has. Mr. Gatt covered it extensively in class and he seems intrigued by this unprecedented time of new discovery. Look at all the finds in the last, like, ten years: the Dome of the Loch Ness, the Carthaginian sand pits, Merlin’s castle, Excalibur’s principle forge, and let’s not forget the Dakota labyrinths. Even here at Coren with this Midday Darkness and God’s Garden business. Why are all these coming to light now?”
“Especially when many of the legends had been cast aside or just completely ignored for years,” added Marie.
Grayson cleared his throat. “What are you getting at here, Grey?”
“I’m not really sure. But the timing and outcomes don’t seem right. Think about it. With all these discoveries, a bunch of resources had to be dedicated—manpower, time, expertise. There was no way that someone found all this stuff by chance. Here at Coren, for example, Milary lived more than one hundred years ago but her journal was found just two years ago. Doesn’t that seem coincidental to anyone else? It’s like…it’s like…someone is looking for something specific.”
Banging at the door derailed Monson’s thought. Casey came crashing in, small leather book in hand.
He tossed it to Kylie, who caught it with relish. The sublime
air of anticipation prickled them all as she opened the first page.
Kylie’s eyes widened instantly.
She flipped the page, then another, and another, and another and another. She dropped the book to the floor, obviously upset.
A tangible feeling had settled upon the onlookers while Kylie ripped from page to page. Monson picked up the discarded journal. He opened it slowly. Nothing was in it.
Casey’s voice was quiet. “I tried to tell you.”
He put out his hand. “This is the only thing that I found in the book.”
He flipped through the book to the very last page and started to read:
“To M.P. and G.D.P., if you’re reading this that means I’m gone. I don’t know if I’m dead or otherwise, but seeing as I’m not the one reading this I’m not going to dwell on it. I’m also not going to bore you with any long and lengthy declarations of the heart. I have no regrets, save one: that I never told him I loved him and it caused a rift with the one I cherish. That doesn’t make much sense, does it? Well, I’m not writing this part for you so it doesn’t matter anyway. This next part is for you, however, so pay attention.
Secrets. There are so many secrets. Secrets that should have remained buried away. I found what I should not have. Listen carefully: I have often said that history is just as much a weapon as any missile or gun. The strength, however, of any weapon is in the brilliance of its deployment and use. This is the very reason I’m writing this. I must warn you of the price of that which comes next—be careful what you give credence to, as what you believe will directly reflect what you are. Believe only that which is true as truth is pure. If you cannot believe the truth, then turn your belief into truth, as belief is power. No sentence ever had more meaning.
Remember—the shallow payment of discovery is much greater than the future price of ignorance.
The valley is the center of it all. The darkness runs unnaturally deep and only Gaji has a mind to heed, as he alone was created as such under the Shining Princess of the Great Betrayer. He and others like him give no allegiance to that princess or even the Betrayer, but instead to the queen of the Arch Angels who have forever forsaken this high place. She alone may command. Let that which was once high, and the stories of those who lived in the sky, remain untouched and unburdened. The Castle in the Sky!
The Shining Princess—avoid the inheritance of the Shining Princess; only then can you elude the wrath of the Great Betrayer.”
Casey finished his recitation only to have the book quickly snatched from him. Kylie read over the text, then spoke a postscript aloud.
“P.S. To understand, find that which is most important to me.”
Chapter 49 – Instinct
“Monson, what’s wrong?” asked Dawn in a voice far quieter than normal. His voice was coming in more disjointed than it had in the past. Monson thought about saying something, but decided that unless Dawn mentioned it he would worry about it when he had time.
Monson closed his eyes, mentally responding to Dawn’s question. “I guess I just can’t believe that this stupid dance is already here. I don’t feel like I have accomplished anything in the last couple of weeks.”
An overwhelming understatement, but to Monson’s credit he had tried everything in his power to make headway in his various endeavors. He had redoubled his efforts with the Magi Blade, tried several different avenues to regain his memory, attempted to learn about his investment portfolio, and actually booked a helicopter for a trip back to his home on the Columbia River. He had even taken to trying to find, albeit covertly, Sage’s hideout.
Despite his renewed vigor, Monson’s efforts had resulted in abysmal failure. It seemed that his luck was taking a bad turn. He hoped it was not an omen, but it was true. He was no closer to understanding the Magi Blade or regaining his memories, reading his investment portfolio was like studying another language, and when Molly found out about the helicopter, she forbade him from going back to his home before the semester was over. Being a minor sure was annoying at times.
The Kylie-Casey-Sage drama was on a completely different level. One that was forbidden as a topic of discussion. Casey had clearly communicated that by actually disappearing on Monson and Artorius for a couple of days after Kylie’s revelations. Casey did not want to talk about what had happened, and without knowing more about the saga, there was very little that Monson and Artorius could do. It seemed that ever since Kylie had confided her plan to the group, Casey had been in a sort of funk. He still seemed like Casey, but a far more quiet and reflective one. Monson had held his tongue over the last little while, as he knew Casey would talk when he was ready. No point in pushing the guy.
At the top of his wins column, his relationship with Taris was going well. Taris seemed more determined to make their relationship work these days. He did not know the reason for the change, but it was better than before so he was not going to complain.Despite all of it, the reason he was currently awake in his bedroom so early in the morning was completely unrelated. It was finally the morning of the Spring Solstice and he was “freaking out.”
He had been alarmed when he learned what going to a dance entailed. Unbeknownst to Monson before he asked Taris to the Spring Solstice, he was not merely required to attend the dance with her—oh no. It was much more complicated than that. The dance was actually an all-day affair. By decree of the female students, couples were supposed to go out in the morning and participate in various activities and then the girls and guys would separate to “get ready,” before meeting up again before dinner. Which was where it became very elaborate. Many of the more ostentatious students at the school were actually flying towards Olympia, Washington’s capital, for dinner, and then returning to campus for the opening ceremonies. Unbelievable. As a royalty candidate, Monson did not have to worry about all that because he and his party would attend the Dinner of Elegance in the Senators Room, a very fancy building on the eastern part of campus built precisely for that purpose. Tales were told of the room; its decor and finery were said to be beyond anything anyone could imagine—which was saying something considering the reality of most of the privileged student body.
Monson voiced his pitiful concerns. “I haven’t been to a dance before. I guess I really don’t know what to expect. I also have this uneasy feeling of foreboding, like something bad is going to happen.”
“Ahh, the pains of youth,” said Dawn, sounding very amused. “I have never been a fifteen-year-old boy, but at this point I do not know where all this concern is coming from.”
“But—”
“But nothing. You know, I really am surprised. Why are you so nervous?”
“I don’t know. I just feel uneasy for some reason.”
“I see.”
“Dawn?”
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you a serious question?”
“Of course.”
“Is all this really real?”
A terribly worded question he knew, but Dawn seemed to understand. Dawn paused for a moment.
“If I said it was not, would you believe me?”
It was Monson’s turn to pause.
“Probably not.”
“Then why ask?”
“I was just….”
“You were just looking for answers, right?”
“Something like that. I just can’t help but feel—”
“Uneasy? Yeah, you said that.”
Monson harrumphed.
“You have good instincts, Monson. It would not be a bad idea to depend on them more.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
But Dawn did not respond. Monson could feel his presence steadily retreating from his mind, and knew that the conversation was over. Monson took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
Good instincts, huh? he thought. I wonder why he said that. Monson climbed out of bed and went about getting ready for the day.
He showered and dressed in warm clothes (it was cooler than it had been recently), taking
some time to pull back his now-wild hair in a ponytail. He paused at the bathroom mirror and reluctantly looked. He saw his own face looking back at him. He reached up and lightly touched his own cheek, feeling his scars as he ran his fingertips over the rough skin. He glanced down at his unscarred hand, then promptly refocused on his face. He took his hair out of his ponytail.
Monson met Casey, Indigo, Christy and Artorius in The Barracks’ common area where they were all talking quietly. Monson had invited Grayson, but he said that he and Marie had some things to do that day. He added that he was not exactly equipped to go adventuring in the forest, the activity the group had planned for that morning. Their last trip during Monson’s “training” was enough to tell him that. The forest wasn’t exactly conducive to a wheelchair.
Upon his arrival, Casey greeted Monson with flustered enthusiasm as he disentangled himself from Christy who was on with her usual attempts of P.D.A.
“Grey, what took you so long?” he demanded as he left Christy pouting on a wide leather love seat. “We’ve been waiting—”
“I’m like ten minutes late, back off,” answered Monson indignantly. He communicated the rest of his unspoken thought as he glared at Casey.
Dude, don’t take it out on me! It’s not my fault your date is crazy.
Casey caught Monson’s hint or at least he appeared to, because his face contorted nastily.
“Still no sign of Taris?” Monson surveyed the area, tossing up his hand in greeting to Artorius and Indigo who had been watching the exchange with amusement.
“Not yet,” Artorius answered distractedly as he returned to watching Casey’s attempts to fend off Christy.
Monson started to grumble to himself. He hated waiting, especially since it had been Taris’ idea to meet so early in the morning.
“Oh, everyone’s here, how lovely!”
Taris walked through the open door and of course, was acting as if she had been the one waiting for them instead of the other way around. The fact that she looked amazing kind of made up for it. Just kind of.
“You’re late.” Monson scowled, though he gave her a small smile. He was not really mad. It was just that his general sense of uneasiness, not to mention his nerves about the whole dance ordeal, had put him in a bad mood.
