by D P Rowell
“What’s their problem?” Ace said.
Grandpa leaned over the back of the couch, “Go ahead and wash up, I’ll have a talk with the Peppercorns.”
Cameron nodded and walked down the hall, mumbling in frustration.
“We’ll have to continue our discussion later,” Grandpa whispered to Ace.
Ace nodded. But before he could leave, Grandpa pulled him close and whispered even quieter, “I’ve put the stone in a trap door under your side of the bed and the watch that unlocks it is beside it. I changed the settings to match your fingerprints so only you can open the chest. When the time is right, take it with you. Until then, don’t so much as look at it.”
CHAPTER SIX
Grandpa’s Story
Cool water streamed down Ace’s back in the cabin shower in a moment spared from all the madness. It had been the first time he had a chance to clean himself since he arrived in New Eathelyn. Usually, he preferred hot showers. But the sticky air outside had been enough to persuade him otherwise. Once he was clean enough, he stepped out and grabbed his pajamas from the counter. Before he put them on, as usual, he stared at the skyscraper design printed on them. Something about the grandeur of the big city captured him. Plenty of Grandpa’s stories involved big cities. Those stories were Ace’s favorite. As his eyes followed the pattern of towering buildings sewn to his nighttime attire, he wondered how many Grandpas lived in those big cities. Must be tons. So many stories Ace hadn’t heard yet.
He wiped the fog from the mirror, smiled and turned to open the bathroom door. Cameron sat on the bed, messing with his hologram computer, swiping the virtual screen with annoyance.
“I think you might be wasting your time, Cameron. I’m pretty sure there’s no connection out here,” Ace said.
“Yeah, I know,” Cameron said. He sighed, closed the laptop, and put it on the stand next to the bed. “I was bored. Figured I’d just give it a shot I guess.”
Ace shrugged and plopped down on the bed next to his brother’s bed.
“Ace are you ever going to tell me what’s going on with you and Grandpa?” Cameron asked.
Ace hung his head. Cameron really deserved to know, “I don’t know, Cameron. Honest . . . I don’t really know what’s going on.”
“At least tell me what you do know. Are we like, okay? I mean, the family and everything?” Cameron said.
Ace swallowed a lump in his throat as he remembered Grandpa’s telling of lurking evil creatures. “I think so.”
This ate at his conscious. He hated lying to Cameron. But, he couldn’t say anything for fear of begging more questions. Keeping the secret had been hard enough already.
“Well, that’s good at least. But it’s been bothering me like crazy ever since we got here. The Peppercorns too, you know. They’ve been especially vicious,” Cameron said.
“They’ve been vicious their whole lives, Cameron,” Ace said.
“I know. But you haven’t been around them as much as me lately. They’ve gone insane! You having some sort of secret with Grandpa is really starting to get to them.” Cameron stood from the bed.
“I’m sorry, Cameron. But look at the positive side. We’ve finally one-upped the Peppercorns. Imagine how Dad will react when we tell him we have something they want!” Ace’s smile widened.
Cameron crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, “No. You have something they want.”
Ace stood on top of the bed, so he could be eye level with his brother. “No. We do,” he said, gently nudging Cameron on the shoulder. “Even if you don’t know the secret. Because Halders stick together.”
Cameron smirked at Ace and replied under his breath, “The way Halders are supposed to.”
The door to their bedroom swung opened, and Grandma Martha stood in the doorway.
“Good evening, you two,” she said, “Your grandfather has started a fire. He’s got s’mores ready if you two would like to join us.”
“Sure, Grandma,” They said together.
They walked from their room, opening directly to the den. A crackling fire covered the somber room in flickering, tepid light, and a tame breeze carried a complementing mist through the windows from the distant waterfalls. Its damp chill whispered of the coming nightfall.
Julie and Tamara sat roasting their marshmallows with a dull look on their faces, and Grandpa walked in from the kitchen with a handful of graham crackers and chocolate. All the grandchildren loved s’mores. It was an unusual treat for Yutarian youths. But Grandpa, being so well learned in ancient Earth culture, made the delicious treats a frequent occurrence for his grandchildren. Even Julie and Tamara didn’t complain about s’mores.
But, for Ace, this meant more than the whiff he caught of sugary dessert from the burning logs. Or the succulent mix of creamy chocolate, gooey white fluff, and a honey-dipped crunch he anticipated. (As if those weren’t good enough). But fire and s’mores always meant one thing better. Grandpa had a story to tell.
“Boys come on in!” Grandpa said. The Peppercorns turned to see the Halders walking in, scoffed, and turned their attention back to their marshmallows on their metal hangers. Ace and Cameron grabbed their hangers just as their cousins finished.
The Halders stepped to the fire, and as Julie stood, she took Ace’s marshmallow off the hanger and tossed it to the fire. All behind her back.
“Oops,” she whispered. Ace nudged her with his shoulder and she fell to the couch.
“Hey, watch it, twerp!” Tamara said as she helped her sister up.
“Oops,” Ace said with a smile. Cameron chuckled under his breath.
“Enough!” Grandma snapped. Her tone sharp enough to cut lead.
“Now,” Grandpa said as he stood between the two couches. “If you’re quite finished being at war with each other, you might enjoy a tale I’ve prepared for you this evening.”
Ace and Cameron turned to see Grandpa, and Julie and Tamara sat down on the left couch, opposite side of Grandma. Anyone who could get the Peppercorns to stop looking at their phones without force had talent. But maybe the s’mores they had their faces buried in had something to do with it too.
“This isn’t another one of those super people things, is it?” Tamara asked.
“I hope so,” Ace said as he squished his well roasted marshmallow between two graham crackers, “superhero stories are my favorite.”
“Of course, they are, dork,” Julie said.
“Stop it, Julie,” Grandpa said. “And no, Tamara. It isn’t a story about a superhero.”
Ace frowned.
“No, no,” Grandpa waved his fingers. “Today, I have an extra special story for you all.”
Ace’s spirits lifted mildly. He grabbed his s’more and sat on the couch next to Grandma, then scooted to the edge of his seat. Grandpa’s stories never let him down before. This sounded like it had promise.
“This story happens at the end of Earth. It’s about a prince,” Grandpa turned and looked Ace directly in the eye, then gave him a familiar wink. “And a stone.”
Ace’s heart fell. What was Grandpa up to? Was he about to reveal his possession of the Emerson Stone to the whole family? He sunk back in the couch. His stomach simmered with nerves, so he forgot the treat in his hand, now dripping melted chocolate on his city pajamas. Once he felt the burning sensation he corrected himself and grabbed a napkin.
“A stone? What’s so special about a stone?” Julie asked.
“Everything,” Grandpa said. “This wasn’t just any stone, Julie. Nor was this just any prince.” He crouched down and leaned in closer to his grandchildren. Getting in character, the way he always did. “Long ago, on Earth, there lived a weak and frail young man named Oliver Halder.”
Julie and Tamara’s face scrunched with distaste. “Halder?” Julie said.
Ace’s focus tunneled on Grandpa’s story.
“Yes, Halder,” Grandpa said. “Now, Oliver had many older brothers. No one really knows how many. Some say as little as five, some say
as many as eleven. But what everyone agrees on, was that they were all much bigger, and much stronger.” Grandpa puffed his chest and flexed his muscles. “Oliver’s father had recently succeeded in taking over what was left of Earth. At this point, all the nations had crumbled, and for the past hundred years, there were only a few million people left. Oliver’s great grandfather was the first to establish a new government. The last kingdom on Earth. And, as had been tradition, the throne went to the oldest son at the passing of the king.”
“This sounds more like a history lesson than a story, Grandpa,” Tamara said.
“He’s just giving us the details,” Cameron said to his older cousin, “it’ll get better.”
Tamara shrugged, “Whatever.”
“Stop interrupting guys, I wanna hear,” Ace said.
“Now, now, calm down,” Grandpa said. “Where was I now?” the old man scratched his chin, then lifted his index finger in the air, “Ah, yes. The throne. Well, one day, when Oliver was out journeying through Earth (as he did often) a strange thing happened.”
Ace leaned further in. Entirely dismissing his gooey treat.
“From a cave he saw a shiny red glow,” Grandpa said.
The Emerson Stone, Ace thought.
“Oliver pondered what it may be. But he was a curious one, that Oliver,” Grandpa winked over at Ace again. “And so, Oliver walked to the cave to find what it was.”
“It was a dragon, wasn’t it?” Julie butted in. “It’s always dragons in the caves. And a red glow? That’s got to be its fiery breath!”
“Dragon fire is orange, not red,” Cameron said.
Ace jolted from his seat. He had had enough of everyone butting in. “Guys, let him tell the story for New Realm’s sake!”
A sharp sting followed a correctional pinch from Grandma, and Ace sat down abruptly after wincing. Julie and Tamara giggled.
“It was no dragon,” Grandpa began again. “It was the stone.”
“What?” said Tamara.
“Lame,” said Julie.
Grandpa chuckled, “Oh, it was far from lame, Julie. This stone changed everything for Oliver. He walked inside and saw the glowing red gem trapped in a boulder, jutting from the cave wall. Just above the stone was an inscription:
Whosoever frees the stone
Will venture not a realm alone
Seven of which will confess
Emery’s chosen, Emery blessed
Come Emery, who knows Unknown
In search of no Haevyr
There is one, and one alone
Who is called a savior
Eldest, will the keeper be
‘Till shadow clouds all truth
One is chosen, this day’s Eve
One, all hear ye in youth
What’s to come, some will believe
Despite some who deny
Stone in hand, one will deceive
And one will bear the lie
For there, in the Land of Faes
Once returned to its throne
By one, in this tamest place
The Light is set in stone
No race of faes
Nor jags, nor drakes
Nor shadow or tree
Says from Unknown
Should bear, the stone
For this fate of Eve’s
Burdened will the chosen be
But should he seek his soul free
Stone and man shall trade their fate
Then, of him, come Emery
“And so, Oliver was intrigued to say the least. He reached out, ignoring the inscription, and took the stone free from the cave.
“Years passed, and Oliver kept the stone hidden away, but always close. It was nothing more than a precious gem to the little guy. But little did he know, it was so much more. And he wouldn’t find out until he was seventeen, when his father’s kingdom was threatened.”
“Who could have threatened the kingdom? I thought it was the last kingdom on Earth,” Cameron said.
“That’s right, but the kingdom that threatened it was not from Earth,” Grandpa said.
“Witches!” Julie said. The little girl nearly jumped from her seat.
Grandpa nodded darkly at Julie. “Close, but no. It was a warlock!” he said.
The grandchildren gasped.
Grandpa continued, “When Oliver turned seventeen, his father asked to speak with him.
“‘Son, I have someone I’d like you to meet,’ the king said. And, standing next to his father, Oliver saw a tall man. This man had smoky gray skin. His eyes were white, and he was dressed in a black robe, the hood covering his face. The warlock had skulls and bones around his neck and covering his robe. Pointy shoulder pads carved from tusks, and a black staff tipped with a jag skull, and studded along its edges with teeth. Antlers tore through warlock’s hood.”
“A jag!” all the children said. Typical. Jags were always the villains in Yutarian folklore.
Grandpa continued his story, “But what seemed strange to Oliver, was the king seemed not himself. It was almost as if the king were not even conscious, but being controlled by this new creature.”
“Oh no,” Ace said under his breath, unable to keep track of his rapid heartbeat.
“Oh no is right, son.
“‘Oliver, this is Jakka,’ the king said.”
The fire in the cabin crackled louder, and Grandpa kneeled and moved his hands with the story, stirring up Ace’s anxiousness all the more.
“Oliver didn’t respond to his king, for as he looked closer, he saw the king’s eyes were turning white, like Jakka’s. Then Oliver looked around the room. The guards, the servants, the chefs. All their eyes were white, and it might as well have just been Oliver and Jakka in the room. But then he saw something else, all his brothers, and his mother were rounded up together in the throne room. The entire palace was under this warlock’s spell!
“‘Hello, Oliver,’ Jakka said.” When Grandpa spoke for Jakka his voice sounded shrill and wretched.
“Jakka stepped closer, and Oliver shook with fear.
“‘What have you done with my family?’ Oliver said.
“‘I’ve made an improvement, if you ask me. Now they can’t make their ridiculous decisions on their own,’ the warlock said.
“‘Fix them! Bring them back!’ Oliver demanded.
“‘I intend to, little one, although it’s useless after all. This world is coming to an end, and your father’s kingdom is about to crumble, then the world.’
“‘What do you mean? What’s happening?’
“‘You’ll find out soon enough, little one. Just do one thing for me, and I’ll return your family. Bring me the red stone.’”
At this part in the story, everyone leaped from their seats.
“The Emerson Stone!” Cameron said, “That’s what Oliver found, isn’t it!”
“You mean it’s from Earth, Grandpa?” Tamara asked.
Ace remained in silent shock, loathing the rock in his gut.
“And so,” Grandpa continued the story, ignoring the questions, “Oliver knew exactly what the warlock was talking about of course. The red stone he found in the cave. He agreed, and ran frantically looking for the little red gem, but when he found it, he stopped. What was this little stone? And why would Jakka need it? The creature seemed very dangerous. Was giving the stone away wise? So, he hid it on his person, and went back to the room where Jakka had his family held hostage.
“‘Why do you need the stone? What’s so special about it?’ Oliver asked. That’s when Jakka grew angry and stepped forward.
“‘That’s none of your concern,’ the warlock said, ‘just hand it over, your family will be freed, and we will leave you to rot away with your world.’
“Oliver saw the look in this creature’s eye. He wanted the stone, and he wanted it bad. But the creature was powerful! Why not just take it from him? After all, he had everyone in the room under a trance except for him. Oliver knew there was only one logical explanation—"
“The stone was keeping him safe!” Ace blurted. Grandpa smiled. Ace soon realized Grandpa had just revealed an important use of the stone; the reason why Grandpa wanted Ace to learn how to hunt witches. Having the stone made him immune to their magic!
“Exactly! So, Oliver began to negotiate with this warlock. Realizing what power he may have at his disposal.
“‘You free my family first! Then, I will give you the stone!’ Oliver said.”
Sweat trickled down Ace’s forehead. This story had done anything but disappoint. Everyone leaned in, and strange things ensued. The fire swelled and rose, and a stronger wind howled louder and louder through the windows as the story furthered in depth. New Eathelyn marched to the rhythm of Grandpa’s story. The old man deepened in character. “‘Listen to me, human, I am not one to test!’ The warlock replied.
“‘Really? Then why don’t you just take the stone from me by force, If you’re so powerful? Why send me to get it? Why not just take it?’ Oliver said. He was becoming sharp, and the warlock was becoming angrier by the minute.”
Ace remembered Rio’s training. Oliver was calling the warlock out on his lie!
“The Palace began to shake and rumble, and the warlock yelled in fury. He was going to bring the entire place down.
“‘If you will not give me the stone, then you and your family will die here and now with your pathetic world!’ The warlock said. “You may think you’re clever, but you’re not. Wherever you run, wherever you hide. We will find you. We will never stop hunting you until the stone is found! Until the stone is ours!”
“Oliver was shaken with fright, and ready to take back what he said. The warlock was going to destroy them all. Oliver had no choice but to comply. So, he reached behind him, and grabbed the stone from his pocket.” Grandpa held out his hand, mimicking what Oliver would be doing, and stopped speaking. The wind calmed, and the fire settled to its normal size.
