by Aaron Gansky
She printed the list of addresses on her computer. Instead of pressing the argument further, she decided to let it go. He may be dumb, but at least he loved her. “How much free time do you have this afternoon?”
“I’ve got a project for Econ due tomorrow.”
“And you haven’t started it yet, right? You’re not going to do it, are you? I mean, you never have before.”
“Senior year, baby. I got to make sure I pass this class.”
She checked her clock. After two. No stupid economics project was more important than what she had to do. “Come get me. I only need a few hours. We’ll be done by dinner. Then I’ll do your project for you.”
Franky cleared his throat. “You mean we’ll work on it together?”
He was so cute when he tried to act smart. “That’s what we’ll tell your teacher and our parents. Now hurry.”
“Alright. Fine. Relax. Man, you’re kind of pushy today.”
“Don’t even start with me, Franky Myers. Get here in fifteen minutes or you can find yourself another girlfriend.” She hung up and printed out a map of North Chester. By the time Franky pulled up in his parents’ Jeep Grand Cherokee, she’d already planned the route they would take to visit every Hall and Price house listed.
* * *
It may have been thirty degrees in the cave, but Oliver sweat under his thick cotton robe. Ullwen eyed him like he might decide, at any moment, to restring the arrow and loose it at Oliver’s neck.
Oliver spoke quietly and slowly. “We’re not exactly from around here.”
“Given,” Ullwen said.
“We’re from,” he paused, realizing exactly how stupid their story would sound. He thought, for a moment, about Jesus. When He explained to the world who He was, they called him crazy and hung Him on a cross. Oliver hoped this story would have a happier ending. “We’re from another world. One outside your own. We,” he motioned to Lauren and himself, “designed this world. Everything you see, from Castle Alrujah to the Otherlands.”
“More you than me,” Lauren muttered.
“What do you mean, ‘designed’?”
Oliver hesitated. He wanted to say “created,” but that would make him like God. But wasn’t he like Him? Wasn’t he created in God’s image? Hadn’t he created this world and come physically into it to save it? He thought of Jesus, who was both God and Man, and of his ultimate sacrifice to wipe out sin and death, to restore eternity.
Oliver didn’t like thinking of himself as a deity. There was one God, one God alone. Regardless, they shared unshakable similarities. He proceeded cautiously.
“What I mean is that we created this world.”
“Adonai?” Ullwen asked, a tremble in his voice. He looked at Oliver with reverence and fear. “You are Adonai?”
“Not even close,” Lauren said.
According to the religion of Alrujah, Adonai created the world. For Oliver, it was an extension of faith—Adonai was simply the Hebrew name for God. So, to Oliver, Adonai was God. But to Ullwen, maybe Oliver was Adonai—the creator of Alrujah.
“Not in the sense you’re thinking.” Oliver sighed. Too complex and too long. He wanted to move, to put the last five minutes behind them and proceed with their lives, their pursuit to return to their normal existence in North Chester. “The world we’re from was created as well.”
“By Adonai?” Ullwen asked.
Sword still ready and poised, Aiden listened intently to Oliver. Lauren’s anger and angst vanished. Even Erica seemed interested. So what agitated him so much? No one pressured him, and no one tried to shut him up. Why did he feel like he was stepping on toes? Was it because the other three weren’t Christians?
Or because he was afraid the others would find out he was a Christian?
Oliver’s throat knotted up. His stomach cramped like he was hungry, or like the bread and cheese had gone bad in his bowels. “By God. The one true God. Adonai is one of His names. He created the heavens and the earth.” Oliver had no idea what to say next. He prayed for wisdom. He prayed the others would understand, no matter what he said or how poorly he said it. “It’s a really long story. But he created us, and we created you.”
Ullwen asked Lauren. “Is this true?”
Lauren whispered. “Yes.”
Ullwen collapsed to his knees. “God has come to dwell among us. I am undone.”
Aiden spoke first. “We are not gods.”
“Speak for yourself,” Erica said. She whipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled. After several lengthy moments of silence, she said, “Kidding.”
“But, if what you say is true, you created us, and you have come to save us from the evil of the Mage Lord. Yet you say you are not gods?”
“It’s a bit of a mind-freak, isn’t it?” Erica said. “We didn’t really expect you to get it, but I’ll try to break it down and make it all real for you. We’re not from here, but we are here now. We breathe, and we bleed. And we’d really like to not bleed anymore. Think of us as lost travelers. Call us Otherlanders, call us elves or dwarves or dragons or fairies or sprites or whatever else you crazy medieval castle-building types have running around your mountains and forests.”
“And you can stand up,” Oliver said. “You never need to bow to us.”
“The four in the world, but not of it, and the one called alongside. The Hand of Adonai,” Ullwen said. His eyes flitted up to the ceiling. “I have read portions of The Book of Things to Come.”
Oliver didn’t like the sound of that.
Erica said, “Okay, care to elaborate, Oliver? He’s speaking gibberish.”
“One of the books of power,” Oliver said. “How did you come to read it, Ullwen?”
“As a child, my mother used to read me portions of the book. I learned early that to speak of the book was to take your life into your hands. This was before the Shedoahn Order collected and burned every copy of it. They took my mother from me.”
Suddenly weak, Oliver said, “I swear, Lauren, I didn’t put that in here.”
Aiden’s voice was deep and quiet. “Who did?”
Lauren crossed her arms. She didn’t look irritated, she looked scared.
Erica cleared her throat, pulled her gloves up, and said, “Well, are we going to sit here all day and pout, or are we going to go get the book? Sunslight is burning here, people. Let’s get the lead out.”
Ullwen stood slowly. He stared at Oliver with such reverence, Oliver thought he might sacrifice a cow to him.
“Yeah, about the book,” Oliver said.
Lauren rolled her eyes. “What now?”
“It’ll take some doing to get it, from what I understand.”
“How so?” Aiden asked, his voice smooth and dark as the marble walls of the cave.
“There are eight passages. Most of them are dead ends, but a few have switches that unlock other parts of the cave. Some of these switches have to be activated at the same time for us to get to the ruins.”
“What ruins?” Erica asked.
“The ruins of Margwar,” Oliver said. “The great dwarven city.”
“Margwar was destroyed nearly a century ago,” Ullwen said. He slipped his bow back over his shoulder. “The dwarves went missing soon after.”
Oliver leaned against a wall. “Anyhow, long story short, we’ll need to break into two teams. We’ll each cover two passages. Some are longer than others. But once we’re done, we’ll meet back here, head down to Margwar together, grab the book, and be back here in time for dinner.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Erica said. “Let’s get moving.” She folded her gloved hands. Sparky alternated between sitting and standing.
“What about the nar’esh?” Ullwen asked.
Lauren glared at Oliver. “Tell me you took the nar’esh out. They’re not still here, right? Oliver, right?”
Oliver didn’t know what to say. Though Lauren wrote the history, the specifics of the nar’esh were his idea—inspired by a nightmare. They’d eventually agreed t
o take them out of the game, but their presence sure wouldn’t be the first anomaly. “They’re a residual code is all.”
He wondered how much time he’d spend fighting enemies and how much time he’d spend apologizing to Lauren. Likely, it’d be equal.
“Nar’esh? I’m guessing those are the bad guys,” Erica said.
“They’re the reason the dwarves disappeared,” Ullwen said.
Aiden stared at Oliver. “Bro, you gotta give us more than that. What are we up against?”
“Cave beasts. Imagine a bat cross-breeding with a spider and a human.”
“Gross,” Erica said.
“So we have to fight them?” Lauren asked.
“A lot of them.”
“Isn’t separating kind of a bad idea?”
Aiden said, “So long as I have my steel, I will fear no nar’esh.”
Erica grinned impishly. “He’s really into this now, isn’t he?”
“We should be able to handle it,” Oliver said.
“Should?” Lauren asked.
“We don’t really have a choice, do we? But there’s a ton of spells in it for you,” Oliver said.
Lauren folded her arms disapprovingly.
“Good spells, too. Quake, Plague, Petrify, Sleep.”
Lauren’s eyes brightened.
Erica asked, “So where are we going, and who’s going with me?”
“Lauren and Ullwen can take the east passage,” Oliver said. “Aiden, Erica, and I can take the west.”
Ullwen smiled. “Very well. I shall defend her with my life.”
Aiden slipped his helmet on and drew his sword. “Show me the nar’esh,” he growled.
Chapter Seventeen
The humans of Alrujah cried out for Solous to punish the elves, to banish them from Alrujah, to put them to the sword. But Adonai softened Solous’s heart. With great wisdom, Solous established Harael, the island nation, for the elves to rule.
—The Book of the Ancients
FRANKY HONKED TWICE ABOUT fifteen minutes after Bailey Renee printed up the list of addresses. She already had directions scrawled out and a map printed. She grabbed her cell phone, shoved it in the pocket of her pink parka. She pulled a pink beanie down over her ears and headed to the door.
Her mother scrubbed the kitchen counter. A nervous cleaner, she scoured until water and cleanser wrinkled her hands. “Are you going out?”
Bailey zipped up her jacket. She’d only be outside for a minute, but the cold would make the short walk from the door to the car unbearable. And once the sun dropped behind the mountains in the next few hours, the temperature would sink like a three-pointer off Kobe’s fingers. “For a bit. I’ll be home for dinner.”
Ms. Knowles meticulously scrubbed the grout behind the coffeepot with a blue toothbrush. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you going anywhere tonight. It’s too cold.”
“I’m going with Franky. We’ve got to work on a project tonight. We’re going to go do some research.”
“Sweetie, I’m serious. Please don’t go. You need to stay here. Tonight of all nights, you need to stay here. What if we hear something from Detective Parker?”
“I have my phone, Mom.” She pulled it from her pocket and waved it at her mother. “A couple hours. Promise.” She turned back to the door, unlatched the lock, and opened it. The quick blast of afternoon cold scratched at her cheeks and made her eyes water.
“Bailey Renee Knowles. Don’t you dare step out that door.”
Had her mother ever used her full name before? She turned back around. “Are you saying I can’t go?”
“You’re darn right I am. You never asked me if you could go, for one. And for two, it’s way too cold outside to be running around town.” She drummed the toothbrush on the tile counter. “And lastly you have to stay home. You have to.”
Bailey spoke gently. “You never made me check with you before.”
“Things are different now.”
“What if I said I was going to look for Lauren?”
Ms. Knowles’s eyes reddened. “Sweetie—don’t do this, okay? Please. It’s hard enough without her here, hard enough to think I may have driven her to do something crazy.”
“You didn’t, Mom. She’s fine, wherever she is.”
“How do you know?”
Bailey shrugged. Her eyes got hot, and her cheeks flushed against the cold of the outside air.
“You know what Detective Parker told me this morning? He told me they were dragging the lake for her body.” Each word came out more slowly than the last. Her mouth opened at the end as if there were more to say, but what could someone say after something like that?
Bailey could hardly listen to it. How much harder would it have been to actually say it?
“So no, you don’t get to go out tonight. Close the door. Call Franky and tell him he can work inside. But you’re not leaving this house.” She put both hands flat on the counter and leaned over. Her elbows locked with scary intensity.
“I have to go, Mom. I have to find out what happened to her.” She fought to suppress the looming storm cloud of tears. She pulled her hood up.
“I’m serious, young lady. Don’t you dare step outside. You let the police do their job. Our job is to wait here at the house in case she comes back.”
“She’s not coming back!” Bailey shouted. “Don’t you get it? She’s gone, and unless we find her, she’s not coming back! She didn’t run away, no matter how much you think she might have. Someone took her, and I’m going to find out who.”
“Where are you getting these ideas?” Ms. Knowles asked. “Honestly, it’s like you’re a completely different person. The Bailey I know would never have argued with me like this.”
Bailey pulled a Kleenex from her jacket pocket and dabbed at her eyes. As gently as possible, she said. “The Bailey you know would never leave against her mother’s wishes, either.” She set her jaw tight and pointed to her chest. “But this Bailey would. This Bailey is going to find her sister.”
Ms. Knowles grabbed a pair of unused yellow rubber gloves and balled them up in her fist. “Don’t do it, Bailey. I’m serious right now. Don’t you dare leave me.” Tears marred her perfect makeup. They ran in heavy drops to her chin.
“I love you, Mom.” She turned back to the door.
“Don’t you do it! Don’t you do it! If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back! You’re no daughter of mine if you leave me. Don’t you leave me like your daddy left me! I mean it, Bailey. If you walk out, don’t bother coming back!”
Bailey closed her eyes. Tears froze to her cheeks. She closed the door behind her and walked to Franky’s Jeep.
* * *
The cave grew colder the further in they went. Aiden’s steel greaves clacked on the rock floor as they pressed on.
Oliver held a torch Ullwen had fashioned for them. Lauren had won that battle, and he was glad. The torch may alert the nar’esh to their presence, but it gave them a fighting chance to survive an onslaught. He guessed they only had a few more feet before the nar’esh would climb down the walls and attack.
He remembered the night he designed them in three dimensions. He was not eager to see what they looked like life-size.
Something moved up ahead. “Did you see it?” he asked quietly.
“Yup,” said Aiden. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his silver sword.
Erica whispered. “So, what now?”
Oliver searched the rest of the cave with the dim torchlight. “Keep walking. Go slow. Keep your eyes open and be ready.”
Erica held the daggers Ullwen had given her before they separated—one in each hand—one curved, the other straight. She held them upside down, as Oliver had designed her to. She wasn’t supposed to wield two daggers until much later in the game, but her other abilities advanced so quickly, he had no doubt she’d handle herself with them.
Oliver switched the torch from his right hand to his left, and his staff from the left to the right. Almost
as an afterthought, he said, “And whatever you do, don’t let them touch you.”
* * *
Ullwen had an arrow on the string of his bow. Lauren plodded forward with a tiny ball of fire in her palm, hoping against hope Ullwen remembered Oliver’s instructions. Her heart pounded much too fast for her to remember anything. She’d never seen the nar’esh—just come up with some vague notion that some creature had obliterated the dwarves—but Oliver loved challenges. The nar’esh would not be pleasant.
Something caught her eye, a movement, something subtle, hardly noticeable. Ullwen’s hair? Yes, over his left shoulder, his black curly hair feathered over his back. How could there be wind in the cave?
“Did you feel it?” Ullwen asked.
“I felt something.”
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “They’re here.”
A twang echoed off the slick walls, the whiz of an arrow splitting air. A high-pitched squeal echoed from the distance of the cave. Something vaguely human fell and crumpled on the rock floor. She squinted, but the dark obscured all detail. “Nar’esh?”
He nodded. “Aye. And where there’s one, there are ten.”
The fire in her palm snapped out. Cold ran from her core to her fingertips.
“The fire,” Ullwen said.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. Her voice cracked. Blood-numbing fear made her voice shake.
“We need the fire,” Ullwen whispered with urgency.
Something touched her shoulder, something soft and slimy. The coldness of it chilled her even more. “Ullwen?”
The touch became a grasp of long, thin fingers. They must have been twice the size of human fingers, and they came to a point. Four sharp nails dug into the front of her shoulder, and one more on the back—five “fingers” in all. “Ullwen,” she said again.
Another twang, but no zipping of arrow this time, only a nearby thunk and another screech.
The hand on her shoulder pulled her to the ground, and her head cracked on the rock floor. She screamed.
“The fire!”
But the fire didn’t come. The chill of fear mounted, grew to bursting within her. It crept in through the back of her eyes, and icy numbness spread through her neck and lips until shards of ice sprouted out of her like thorns on a rosebush. She shrieked, stood up, and flailed her arms.
