Legend of the Book Keeper

by Daniel Blackaby

  Cody pulled off his sweaty shirt, which was damp from the busy day, and flopped down onto his bed. Tomorrow was going to be critically important and he was anxious to get to sleep and recover his strength. The moment he laid his head on his pillow, there was a knock on his door. Who could that be? Maybe Jade was coming to apologize for embarrassing me in front of Tiana? Or maybe it was Tiana herself? Cody’s palms started sweating. He rolled out of bed and walked over to door, pulling it open. Standing bashfully in the hallway was Princess Eva.

  “Oh, my goodness,” she exclaimed quietly and looked downward to the floor.

  Cody uncomfortably felt every square inch of his exposed bare chest. “Um, do you want to come in? I mean, one second, I’ll go change.” Cody quickly retreated into the room and threw on a fresh tunic. When he returned to the door, Eva was still standing timidly with downcast eyes.

  “Why don’t you come in?” Cody asked. She gave a humble bow and shuffled into the room. Cody took a seat on the corner of his bed and patted the mattress beside him. “Come have a seat.”

  Eva’s eyes widened and Cody immediately realized his mistake. “Or, you can stand if you’d prefer,” he muttered. Eva didn’t move. By the look in her eyes, Cody could see something troubled the simple girl. She looked up, and for the first time he was able to look closely at her face. Without Cia’s radiating presence beside her, Cody realized that Eva possessed a unique beauty of her own. Not flashy or eloquent like her sister, but still very warm.

  “I loved my father,” she said in her gentle voice, “He was not a perfect man. But he always took a stand for what he believed was right . . . and he was a good father.” Cody was blindsided by the unexpected turn of events. Jade had always teased him that he was the sensitive one in the friendship, but he had never been good at comforting people, especially with issues relating to fathers.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Eva. I am sad that I was never able to meet your father,” he offered, squirming on the bed.

  Eva smiled, “I’m okay. Most daughters in your world only get fifty, maybe sixty years with their father. Is that not so? Who am I to complain about spending three thousand years with mine? Don’t worry; I have not come here seeking comfort. I have come . . . to warn you.”

  Cody jerked his head. “To warn me? Warn me about what?” Cody asked surprised.

  Eva dropped her voice to a whisper, “To warn you that my family is not in their proper state. They have contrived this lie to conceal my father’s death, but I fear they do so for selfish reasons. Fear has corrupted their thoughts. They no longer mourn for our father; they seek to use his death to gain power. Did you know that Kantan and Cia are twins? They are also equal heirs to the throne. I fear that they will suck you into the lie. They will use your power to further their games,” she finished firmly. Cody couldn’t suppress a smile; he was genuinely surprised. Eva shook her head, “I am not crazy. I may be the youngest of my siblings and have no heart for their politics, but I have walked for longer than your Upper-Earth history spans. I have to go, if my siblings were to discover that I’ve been here . . .”

  Eva froze. There was a scratching sound outside the door. Cody jumped off the bed, and shielded Eva with his arm. “Shhhhh, get behind me!” The door-knob began to jiggle. Cody stepped over to his nightstand and placed his palm on the scarlet ‘A’ of the Book. “I’ll block the door with stone. Gadour!” he yelled. Nothing happened. The doorknob shook more violently. Cody yelled again, “Gadour! Gadour! Bauciv! Seamour!” Still nothing happened. “Something’s wrong! The Book isn’t working! It’s like something is preventing me from using the Orb’s power. I don’t understand. . . . Quick, to the window, Eva!” But he was too late. The door flung open.

  Cody squinted, “Dace? What on earth are you doing here? You scared the bejibbees out of me!” Cody yelled in irritation, exhaling a deep breath.

  Dace gave a quick grin before returning to an unusually stern expression. “Just keeping you on your toes. But I’m afraid we don’t have time for any more fun and games. Foz sent me to retrieve you; General Levenworth has called a secret war council. As the Book Keeper your presence is required.”

  Eva stepped out from the shadows of the room. “A council? At this time of night? What’s happening?” she questioned timidly.

  Dace’s lips folded into a grin as he saw the Princess, looking from her to Cody, and then back to Eva. “We suspect an El Dorado invasion. That’s all I know. We will be briefed at the council. Cody, they are waiting.” Dace gave Eva a low bow, and Cody awkwardly followed the example. The two exited the chambers, walking briskly to the war room.

  Once out of earshot, Dace elbowed Cody hard in the ribs. “Ouch! What was that for?” Cody exclaimed, rubbing his side.

  Dace winked at him, “First the cute green-eyed girl, now a royal princess? You are a sly devil! Although I should warn you, I’d be careful with that one. Ever since . . . the accident, during the Great War she’s been . . . different. Although I’m guessing you probably don’t need me to tell you that . . .” Cody nodded silently. “Yeah . . . different . . .” he uttered distractedly, the image of Eva’s innocent eyes immobile in his mind.

  The tingling sensation in her skin prickled like the aftermath of a resilient fire. She held up her arms and examined the invisible feeling. It’s happened again. The faint voices of Dace and Cody could still be heard as they drifted away down the corridor. After several moments the voices faded into silence. It didn’t matter—she had already heard enough. Eva squeezed her eyelids closed, releasing a lone tear. She was different; a fact reiterated for her with painful frequency. Always spoken to as though a child, always spoken about as though invisible. She sighed. One day they will understand. Slowly the tingling in her skin faded away, leaving a slight glow in its wake.

  A Growing Threat

  Invasion is imminent! The only question is: when?” The rich, booming voice of General Gongore Levenworth rang authoritatively over the small room. To his left sat the bald man with ivory skin whom Cody had first seen during Randilin’s trial, and beside him sat Dace. To the General’s right were Kantan, Cia, and Foz. Silkian sat in the corner of the room silently, looking as slimy as ever. Two other men sat across the table from the General. They were both rugged in appearance and donning full soldier armor. Cody sat at the other corner of the table, sinking into his chair and feeling completely out of place.

  “The Golden King surely plans an invasion. It is no coincidence that he has mobilized his troops after centuries of peace. Clearly, this comes only because our foolish Book Keeper announced so dramatically to the world The Code’s location.” Cody melted even farther into his chair.

  “Objection!” called out Dace, “The odds that Cody’s proclamation could have reached the Golden King already are unlikely. Even with tunnel-phone the chances are slim. Besides, there has been troop activity for months now.”

  Levenworth strolled around the table, stopping in front of Dace. “Indeed, there has . . . but not like this.” Levenworth motioned to the two soldiers sitting across from Cody. “These two scouts have just arrived from the borderlands with fresh news. Private Tat Shunbickle, report.” The taller of the two soldiers stood. “Several months ago we began noticing increased activity around the border. One night we went to sleep staring out over the great desert divide, clear as the horizon. We woke to the sight of tents in the distance. Forty, maybe fifty. A day later, there were well over one hundred just sitting out there. Day by day the tents multiplied like a spreading cancer. Before long, thousands of them were dotting the desert like house flies. Captain Talgu ordered us to take a closer look. Under cover of nightfall, we crossed the border and got in close to the camp. There is no doubt that this was a camp built for war.”

  “And what makes you say so? There are plenty of nonwar related reasons for such a camp, are there not?” questioned the Captain of the Mid-City guards.

  The Soldier nodded, “True, Captain Eagleton, however, several observations convinced
us otherwise. For example, the men in the tents were undoubtedly warriors. Their skin . . . it was . . . armored . . . so-to-speak.”

  “Their skin was armored?” asked Kantan, crunching his stern face as though mishearing the report. “Don’t you mean their skin was covered in armor?”

  The Private shivered. “No, Sir. We didn’t get a good look, but it appeared as though plate mail of gold was literally fused into their body. I’ve never seen anything like it before in all my years. It was as though the skin and the armor were one,” the soldier’s voice tailored off retrospectively.

  “Thank you, solider, for your report,” said Levenworth.

  The once silent soldier began to squirm, muttering softly to himself, “Demons from below. Demons. Eyes that do not see . . .” The entire table turned to the soldier who was verging into hysteria. The first soldier put his hand on his partner’s shoulder to silence him.

  The Private turned to the General, “Sir, I’m afraid there’s more. The golden men are not the only beings in the camp. There is . . . something else.” The second soldier’s eyes bulged and his face began to twitch violently; the Private continued, “On the second evening my comrade and I managed to infiltrate the camp. Our mission was to gauge the number of warriors. However, when we reached the center of the camp we discovered something.” The soldier stopped, attempting to calm his partner.

  “Well, what was it?” demanded Kantan impatiently.

  The soldier’s face was full of fear. “I don’t know. We only got a quick glance. But that one look was enough. There were men in the center of the camp, or at least they looked like men.”

  Lady Cia stood from her chair. “What do you mean they looked like men? What else could they be if not men?” she questioned.

  “I don’t claim to know what they were, honorable lady, only what my eyes saw. They had the bodies of men, yet there was something missing. They were . . . empty. I don’t know how to explain it, but they looked like hollow bodies. Soul-less wraiths. They were just standing there, not sleeping or blinking. Just staring at us with empty eyes. Excuse my honesty, but it was the most terrifying sight I had ever seen. My comrade here is still suffering from shock.”

  “How many?” demanded Levenworth sternly. “How many of these, hollow men were there. Five? Ten? How many?”

  The soldier shook his pale face, “Hundreds.”

  A chill flowed through Cody’s body. He watched as that same chill circulated the room.

  Foz broke the cycle. “I believe there is only one possible course of action. Atlantis’ troops should be sent immediately to the city of Lilley to bolster the strength of our border. An attack is coming,” he said firmly.

  Kantan brought his fist down onto the table with a crash. “We send out troops to Lilley and we guarantee an attack. The moment the Golden King senses that we are preparing for an assault he will move quickly. He will not sacrifice the advantage of first strike. Gathering our troops at the border is nothing but an invitation. No offense, little brother, but not all war strategy can be learned from your silly books. I ask you to leave the decisions to those experienced in war. If we have a question of gardening you will be the first one we ask . . .” mocked Kantan cruelly.

  Foz sat back into his chair dejectedly.

  Levenworth paced back and forth. “I agree with Kantan. It is too risky to take any action that might provoke an attack, especially while we are vulnerable and unfit for combat. Captains, your stance?”

  Captain Eagleton nodded without hesitation. “Our forces are not yet ready to fight should El Dorado take our reinforcement effort as a threat. We should not take the risk.” Dace nodded as well. “I agree that the wisest action is to remain as is. However, if I may insert a personal concern, I fear that Prince Foz is correct as well. The city of Lilley is not fortified or equipped with enough men or resources to repel an invasion of this scale. If El Dorado strikes, Lilley will be massacred. Would it not make sense to . . .”

  “Opinion heard, Captain Dace. That will be enough,” ordered Levenworth, silencing the captain. “We will stay the course for the time being and let the situation unfold. Council dismissed.”

  “Wait, what about our Book Keeper? Shouldn’t his voice be heard?” objected Foz, motioning to Cody.

  Kantan sneered. “The Book Keeper is not one of us. Mere unexplained luck and inherited power does not constitute the right of a political voice. This is a matter of Atlantis and is of concern to Underlings, not Surface-Dwellers. We’ve already seen how their knowledge of war has turned out.”

  “Yes, because you wouldn’t know anything about inherited power now would you, Prince Kantan?” Cody blurted out before he could catch his words. The three royal siblings gave him intense looks of caution. He had struck a chord too close to the truth. He was still bound by the lie.

  Kantan stared disdainfully at him. “Council dismissed.”

  A Record-Setting Sunset

  Cody wiped the sleep from his eyes as he jogged after Jade. She was less than interested in his recap of the previous night’s war council meeting as more pressing concerns plagued her thoughts. “That’s unimportant right now. All that matters is that we have a friend who has an appointment with the gallows in two days. Stay focused, Cody!” she blurted as she led the way toward the prison. After his conviction, Randilin had been transferred to maximum security.

  A gong sounded over the city. Cody knelt down but Jade dragged him forward by his sleeve. “We don’t have time for silly ritualistic nonsense.” Cody scanned around for Enforcers. Thankfully there were none to be seen.

  They reached the prison. It was a square structure constructed entirely of stone. Other than the barred and bolted front steel doors, there was no window or access inside. Six armed guards stood stiffly upright outside the entrance. Cody nodded as he approached, giving the sentry a good look at his face; the face of the Book Keeper. Without any return motion, the guard unbolted the gate. With the help of two other guards, they slowly pulled the heavy door open. Cody followed Jade inside.

  There was a slam as the door closed, concealing the room in total blackness. “Hello? Who’s there?” came a feeble voice. It was Randilin. “Illumchanta,” whispered Cody. An orb of light rocketed from his fingers and crashed into the ceiling forming a star. Bright rays sprinkled down into the room like fireworks.

  “'Bout time you goats stopped by,” snarled Randilin. If he had looked in rough shape before, he now seemed only moments from death. Dark purple bruises covered the entire left side of his face, and dried blood coated his bottom lip. His arms were bound by chains, which had completely rubbed off the skin on his wrists.

  “What have they done to you?” cried Jade, softly grabbing his arm to examine his scars.

  He pulled his arm away violently. “Let me be. Our mutual friend, Prince Kantan, and his muse, General Levenworth, have paid me a few visits. They seem to think my execution will prevent them the future joys of torturing me, so they are getting in their fill now. What news have you from the land of the living?”

  Cody told of the reported activity in the borderlands. Like Jade, Randilin showed little concern, “Well, unless El Dorado attacks tomorrow, I won’t be around to see it,” he concluded grimly.

  Jade felt anger welling up within her. “Surely there’s something we can do to prevent your hanging. Think guys, there’s got to be something.”

  Randilin’s head rolled back and rested on the iron bars of his cell. “I’m afraid not. The only one who can reverse a ruling is the King himself. And I wouldn’t count on Ishmael to interfere, he didn’t even show up to the trial.”

  Cody looked to Jade and swallowed. “They don’t own me. If they want to lie then power to them, but I’ve had enough,” Cody said with release.

  “What are you talking about? Lie about what?” Randilin asked, bringing his bloated face to rest between two iron bars.

  “Randilin . . . the King is dead.” Cody explained about their break-in to the King’s chambers and the
ir horrible discovery. Randilin listened silently.

  When Cody finished, Randilin hung his head low. “Long live King Ishmael. He was a good king, and a better man. Unfortunately his death is untimely. The only man with the power to prevent my death is a man dead himself. The sun sets on Randilin, and the world says good riddance.”

  There was a crash as the steel door was slammed closed, once again leaving Randilin to his solitary purgatory. Jade brought her black hair over her shoulder and stroked it like a cat. “Perhaps we can convince the royal family to pardon him on their father’s behalf?” she suggested as they sauntered gloomily back toward the palace.

  Cody shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it. One of them would have to be appointed as the new ruler, which is impossible while they continue to lie. And besides, they hate Randilin, especially Kantan. Cia seems indifferent, Foz has no real influence in the family and Eva is . . . well, Eva. She’s treated by her siblings like a child. If we are going to save Randilin, it won’t be through them,” Cody concluded.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the famed Book Keeper himself! What an excellent surprise.” Stepping out from the market was Tiana. “And, hello to you too Jade,” she finished in a tone of boredom. Jade stared unflinchingly ahead as though she didn’t hear the greeting. Cody felt the lump in his throat return,

  “Tiana!” he blurted out with childish delight. His face flushed as he cleared his throat. “I mean, hi, Tiana . . .” his eyes dropped down to his feet. “Well. Anyways. I was just on the way to my training. I’m busy. I mean busy right now. Well. Not like right now, obviously, because that wouldn’t make any sense . . . wow . . . um . . .” Cody continued to splutter on, helpless to stop the catastrophic train wreck unfolding before him, and completely inept to think of anything even remotely interesting to say. He felt his face grow redder with each agonizing syllable.