The Book of Things to Come (Hand of Adonai Series 1)

by Aaron Gansky

  Aiden’s armor clanked behind her. He approached her slowly, cautiously. “I don’t think I like it.”

  “Is everything okay out here?” The voice sounded a little deeper, grittier, than Lauren remembered, but she still recognized Oliver.

  She turned around. “Fine, why?”

  “I heard a huge crack.”

  “Bolt 1.” She smiled. “You outdid yourself.”

  “Wait till you see Surge.” He grinned.

  Erica walked out a few minutes after Oliver, Dagger at her heels. She wore a green velvet, long sleeved dress with black stripes running down each arm. She’d torn the fingers from Lauren’s gloves and somehow cut the elbow-length cloth down to her wrists. Other than the color, they could be the twin of the pair she wore in North Chester, loose threads and all.

  Lauren tried not to be irritated. Would it be too much for her to wear them as they were, even if they didn’t match exactly? For Erica, it probably would be. The fact Erica wore them at all, considering they weren’t black, shocked Lauren.

  Erica slipped her dagger in its sheath on her leather shoulder holster and smoothed her dress when she looked up and stared at Lauren. “Who are you?” she asked. One eyebrow raised.

  Lauren closed her eyes in frustration. “It’s me. Lauren.”

  “Maybe it’s her dream,” Erica said.

  “Come on, girls,” Oliver said. “Take it easy. We’re going to have to work together if we’re going to find a way home.”

  Ignoring his comment, Erica said, “This dress totally sucks. It’s like, make-me-puke bad.”

  Lauren frowned. Softly, she said, “At least it has black on it.”

  The wolf rested against Erica’s leg. “Geez, Sparky, get off me. You’ll get hair on my dress.”

  Lauren sat on the windowsill. Dampness lined the air. Snow couldn’t be far off. “His name is Dagger.”

  “She likes Sparky better,” Oliver said.

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think you liked the dress.”

  She pushed the massive wolf with her leg. “I’d like it less if it was covered in dog hair.”

  “Wolf hair,” Oliver corrected. He put his hands in the long sleeves of his robe.

  “Whatever,” Erica said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Oliver said, “Good idea. We have to follow the script. If we don’t, we may never get home. You’re going to have to trust me on this.” He looked at Lauren. “Trust us. We know what we’re doing.”

  Lauren said, “Speak for yourself.”

  Chapter Eight

  They rule over their worshipers and receive power from their sinful prayers. They have turned their hearts from the service of Adonai. They serve themselves, and because of their atrocities and their love of evil, Adonai has declared them abominations.

  —The Book of Things to Come

  THE LIGHT OF THE twin suns, high over Alrujah, diffused through a thin layer of gray clouds. The heavy drawbridge lowered with slow, agonizing clinks of thick chain and machinery. The four sat atop white steeds in the shadows of the broad castle walls as the bridge touched down on the opposite side of the moat. Oliver held his breath as he crossed. He didn’t want to show fear, but beneath the rough oaken bridge swam parial-barbed vi-fish, alligators, and various water dragons. Most had been imported from surrounding territories, but some came from as far away as the lakes in the Callbred Mountains. Each had been specifically chosen for their ferocity and insatiable hunger.

  With each hoof-fall, the bridge echoed. Water frothed on either side. The castle guards kept the vi-fish hungry, in case of invasion. But the moat fulfilled several purposes, not just defensive. A shorter drawbridge jutted out on the other side of the castle—one used like a pirate’s plank. Criminals, capital offenders, and those labeled as traitors of the crown were forced at sword-point to walk to the edge where a black garbed man would push them into the deep. He’d put in the code because he thought, at the time, it would be cool. Now, seeing the back of the black-finned fish splitting the water, the long necks of the water dragons rising like miniature Loch-Ness monsters, and the slightly over-sized alligators swimming like ancient dinosaurs, “execution-by-moat” sounded far less cool.

  “Pretty sick door,” Erica said. Sparky matched her horse’s steps and walked between her and Oliver.

  Her green and black velvet dress made her look strangely different, but her dark eyes still locked up his heart. “Thanks,” he said.

  He pulled his hood off his head and felt the waning warmth of the dual suns on his face. The larger sun warmed the left side of his face more than the smaller warmed the front.

  “Two suns? This whole place is weird,” Erica said.

  He said, “Yeah.”

  The soldiers stationed inside the castle tapped their spears in unison. Oliver nudged Aiden. “Turn around, face the guards, and hold your sword up.”

  Aiden complied. The suns glinted off the hardened steel, and the soldiers stepped out of view. A second later, the gate started to move up. Two blurs ascended the bridge and disappeared.

  “What was that?” Aiden asked.

  “The blurry people? Chameleon Soldiers. They wear light refracting chain mail so they seem to disappear.”

  “So they’re like stealth soldiers?” Aiden asked.

  “Pretty much,” Oliver said.

  “Bro, that’s pretty sweet. Glad they’re on our side.”

  Lauren fidgeted. She pushed her hair behind her ear, which meant something bugged her, and he’d probably end up getting an earful. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Lauren pointed to the drawbridge and frowned. “I don’t remember them.”

  Oliver covered his hands in the long sleeves of his blue robe. The suns moved quickly across the sky. It would be dark soon. The warmth of the day would vanish, and the melting snow would refreeze. Traveling with a group of four took much longer than traveling with two. And with Aiden’s heavy armor, no way they’d be able to make the same pace Oliver and the messenger had made riding from the monastery to Castle Alrujah. “We need to keep moving. We only have a few hours before we can make it to Varuth. Otherwise, we’ll need to set up camp.”

  They rode west, away from the castle toward the monastery. Once they’d crossed the river Oliver and the messenger had crossed a few hours ago, they’d head north toward the Dragon’s Back Mountains. They’d need to climb deep into them if they wanted any chance of getting to The Book of Sealed Magic, assuming it was even in the same place when they got there.

  Lauren, who rode on the opposite side of Oliver, a formation designed to protect Erica and Aiden until they were more comfortable with their skills, crossed behind everyone until she rode beside Oliver. “I thought we said nothing goes in unless we both approve it.” Voice shaky, she sounded like her mother.

  “I was going to show you in the Beta. If you didn’t like them, I was going to take them out.”

  “But you put them in. You didn’t tell me anything about them.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. The horses shuffled through the hoof-deep snow.

  Oliver remembered when he found her standing in the snow in her pajamas two short days and a lifetime ago. “It was a last minute add. Don’t worry, they’re cool. We probably won’t see them at all.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” she whispered. The greater sun dropped toward the Dragon’s Back Mountains. The air cooled almost immediately. The lesser sun would only be out for another hour and a half. “How do they work in the story?” she asked.

  “They find the Mage Lord, report back to the king. The king contacts Indigo and warns her before the Mage Lord launches a complex ambush. They save our lives.”

  The river sparkled on the horizon. Lauren’s eyes were blue, much bluer than they should be, like when she froze the handle off Erica’s door. He sighed. As much as he liked her, she was, as Bailey Renee would say, prone to drama. He wished she would settle down and realize not everything was a matter of life and death. “Take it ea
sy. You’re going to go all magic again.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to feel?”

  Oliver shivered, either because the greater sun was setting or because the cold, cold Lauren rode so close to him.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I should have talked to you, and I didn’t. Better?”

  “It’s a start,” she said. Her eyes stopped glowing, but still shone a deep blue. “I don’t know if I can trust you anymore. This was supposed to be our game.”

  Oliver shook his head. “It is. You’re making too big a deal out of it.”

  “Am I? I mean, they may change other things in the game. What if they stumble across The Book of Sealed Magic and bring it back to my father?”

  Oliver pulled the reins, commanded his steed to stop. Aiden and Erica, a few paces ahead, turned their horses around. Oliver looked hard at Lauren. “Your father? You know he’s not real, right? I mean, you’re not starting to think this whole thing is legit, are you? This is some bizarre aberration, an anomaly. We’re going to get back. You may not want to, but the rest of us sure do.”

  Lauren stopped her horse and returned his stare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He’d had his fill of her constant self-pity. Before he could stop himself, he said, “Well come on, Lauren. You’re miserable in the real world, and you’re miserable here. This is what you always wanted, and now you have it, and it’s not good enough. If one little thing is wrong, you get all bent out of shape.”

  Lauren’s blue eyes moistened. Her skin turned a pale blue. “Are you trying to hurt me? What’s wrong with you?”

  Fatigue robbed Oliver of whatever tact and patience he had left. The events of the day had left him drained of energy, and the group had a long ride ahead of them. “What’s wrong with you?” A childish response, yes, but she questioned his motives, like he’d done something wrong, like he’d betrayed her. Her daddy issues had morphed into latent insecurities, made her think she couldn’t trust anyone.

  Lauren’s jaw dropped. She heeled her horse, turned toward the Cerulean Woods, and rode quickly ahead. She passed Erica and Aiden at a pace just below a gallop. Sparky barked after her but remained obediently by Erica’s horse.

  When Oliver caught up with the other two, Aiden asked, “What was that all about?”

  Oliver shrugged. “She gets like this sometimes.” Annoyance and resentment seethed under his skin. He boiled in the cold air.

  Erica sighed. “I guess I’ll go talk to her.”

  Oliver and Aiden stared at Erica.

  “What? I can’t be nice all of a sudden?”

  Oliver smiled. “It’d be good if someone were.”

  * * *

  A horse trotted up behind her, but Lauren didn’t slow down. She continued on over the Fellian River, ignoring the sound of hooves on the wooden bridge. The clear water shimmered in wild reds and oranges. During sunsdown, the river ran with liquid gold.

  When the other horse finally caught up, Lauren turned. Her eyes warmed, and she wondered if she were going to cry. She tried to keep herself composed. She didn’t want Aiden to see her cry, and she didn’t want to give Oliver the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt her. But it wasn’t either of them. Instead, Erica, with her long brown hair and dark eyes, rode beside her.

  “You okay?” Erica asked. She sounded genuine, as if she really cared. Sparky circled once around Lauren’s horse.

  “Terrific.”

  “Sarcasm’s more my color. You don’t wear it well.”

  Lauren shrugged. “Don’t even care right now.”

  The horses pressed on, beyond the bridge, toward the line of trees that marked the beginning of the Cerulean Woods. “Sure you do.” Erica’s horse stepped over a felled branch. “Look at you. You’re about to cry.”

  Was it that obvious? Lauren sighed and wiped her eyes.

  “You care about Oliver. You care what people say. And I’m guessing you’re tired of being picked on. Me, I gave up caring a long time ago. Hurts a lot less.”

  The expansive harspus trees thickened around them. Their bare branches twisted around themselves. The ground peeked through the thin snow. Damp leaves gathered on the hooves of their horses. Lauren wondered how long it took Oliver to program this level of detail.

  In the spring, the leaves of the harspus trees would turn blue, instead of green. They’d blend perfectly with the sky, and it would be hard to tell the two apart. Now, the blue leaves had turned orange and yellow and covered the dirt of the woods like tile.

  Erica’s sudden kindness put Lauren on her guard. She didn’t want to reveal too much, even though she ached to tell someone, anyone really, how she felt—angry, sad, worried lightning or ice or fire might leap out of her and strike her friends at any moment. Oliver had attacked her so unexpectedly. Why had he acted as if she’d accused him of treason? She wanted a simple answer. She thought to say all this to Erica but remembered Erica probably hated her. Instead, she said, “People change.”

  Erica waved a hand at Lauren, from her head to her feet. “Yeah. Some of us get crazy skinny overnight. But most people don’t change that much.” She grabbed a leaf that clung stubbornly to an otherwise bare branch, examined both sides, and dropped it. Sparky sniffed it like it was food. “I’m going to tell you straight out what I think. You care too much. You’re too sensitive because you’ve got a big heart.”

  At least she said “heart” and ignored the other big parts of her.

  “It’s cool, don’t get me wrong. But it’s dangerous, too. Means you get hurt easier.”

  “Don’t try to make this my fault. Did you hear what he said?”

  Erica put both her hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t get all angry. It’s no one’s fault. You’re not bad because of it or anything. Me, I don’t care enough. It’s like, nothing really matters to me. We each have our own set of problems.”

  Lauren imagined how uncomfortable the sharp-edged dry leaves would be if any got stuck in her boots. Thank goodness she’d thought to include horses in the game. “So why do you care if I’m angry or not? Don’t you think I’m a witch?”

  Erica ran her hand over the black bark of a harspus tree. Probably wishing her green nails were as black as the bark. She took her hand off the tree and shrugged. “Figured I should do something to help. We’re all in this together. Witch or not.”

  Lauren’s anger melted away. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

  “Just don’t ask me to cheer you up or make you laugh. I kind of suck at that.”

  Lauren smiled. “Not as much as you think.” She pulled the reins, and her horse stopped. They turned their steeds. Aiden and Oliver rode out of earshot. Aiden’s helmet glinted in the light of the lesser sun. “I guess we should wait for the boys.”

  “Sure, why not.”

  When Oliver and Aiden caught up, Oliver asked, “Better?”

  “A little,” she said.

  “Sorry I got all worked up back there.”

  “Water under the bridge,” she said. And, for the most part, she believed it.

  Oliver’s hood shifted. “If we keep moving, we can make it to Varuth before sunsdown. Traveling at night isn’t safe.”

  “Too dark?” Aiden asked.

  “Too dangerous. Pretty soon, the days will be dangerous, too.”

  With disdain on her face, Erica said, “Let me guess—monsters?”

  “Every game has enemies,” Oliver said. “Alrujah has some pretty vicious ones. The scariest ones come out at night.”

  Chapter Nine

  And the four shall move as fingers on a hand. They will work separately and together. And one shall come alongside as a thumb, and complete the Hand of Adonai. The five will break the six evil spirits, and they will crush the Great Deceiver.

  —The Book of Things to Come

  THE LESSER SUN HAD dropped behind the Dragon’s Back Mountains only ten minutes before a low, earthy sound rumbled over them, as if, at any moment, the ground would ripple in waves like a great earthquake.
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  “I heard it, too.” Oliver pulled his prayer staff from its holster on the side of his saddle. “Adonai save us.”

  Erica asked, “Adonai?”

  “This isn’t a good time.” He dismounted and crouched down.

  “What are you doing?” Aiden asked. Already, he’d pulled his sword and shield.

  Lauren crossed her arms. Her eyes screamed with heat, and her skin crackled in the cold air. “Beresus,” she said. “Think angry gorilla on steroids.”

  Aiden twisted his sword in a loop. “Nice, bro. This ought to be fun.”

  Sparky growled. His fur bristled, and he barked twice.

  Something big, like the shadow of a garden shed, lumbered toward them. “There,” Oliver whispered.

  Aiden dismounted quickly. He shifted his weight to his back leg and pointed his sword to the shadow.

  Erica dismounted, stared at the hulking beast. “We’re supposed to kill this thing?”

  Oliver knelt and mumbled something Lauren didn’t understand. Heat welled inside her. She was sure if she sneezed, flames would shoot out her nose. She slid off her horse, put her hand on its neck to steady it.

  Her fear manifested as heat. Fever hot, her fingertips burned like blisters.

  The massive shadow sprang forward, and before she realized it, she’d extended both arms toward it. The blackness disappeared as the beresus lit up in orange flames. It slowed for a minute but still lumbered forward. The fire burnt itself out, and Lauren’s breath caught in her throat. Now what?

  Her horse whinnied and ran off into the woods. The other three followed after.

  Aiden charged the beast, his sword outstretched. He leapt forward, sword and arms extended until the blade sank deep in the belly of the beast.

  The beresus shrieked an awful, high-pitched squeal nine octaves higher than its low rumble minutes earlier. It raised its massive arms and smashed Aiden out of the way.

  Aiden lay on the ground, moaning. He tried to get up but collapsed.

  Heat rose again.