I said nothing and simply saved my breath for the walk into the final chamber. Umber gave an irritable snort at my lack of a response. “Just when I was beginning to think that my host was somewhat formidable for his persistence, I find he’s been stopped in his tracks by mere emotion.” I scowled at him and flung him away, yet he reformed almost instantly.
“It’s like catching a butterfly with your bare hands. You chase it and chase it but it’s only when you have it in your possession do you realize that it’s worthless.”
I did everything I could to avoid listening to what Umber was saying, yet his words were relaxing. Doubt began to fill my mind.
“A flower is only ornamental,” The spirit continued. “Pretty, but otherwise impractical. You can't feed armies with a flower, nor can you stem the tide of evil with it. It simply looks and smells enjoyable, and even that smell won't last more than a week or so. That’s what this love is Jacob.”
“I just cemented the bond between two brothers together with nothing more than a message.”
“Yes, but despite your best efforts, the oldest brother will soon die.”
“SHUT UP!” I roared, trying everything I could in my power to damage Umber. Every jab I threw, every slap that passed through his eyes did no more damage than a light breeze, but still I fought.
“You can do anything you want to protest but that doesn’t change the inevitable Jacob. Logic trumps.”
I began to cry and thrash around like a child. I fell to my knees and tore at my face, writhing in distress as my body approached the floor. I took three ragged breaths, and carefully began to speak. “You say... I’m determined.” Tears fell from my face and onto my clenched fists as I said these words. “You say I’m persistent, yet you’re too stupid to know where these things come from.”
“You want to escape the concentration camp,” Umber stated, looking bored.
“Wrong,” I whispered sharply. I laughed as more tears blinded my vision. “Wrong, wrong, wrong. You, spirit are wrong!” I declared, jabbing a finger in his left eye. “I want to save my friends, even if means they’ll live on without me. I didn’t have a word for this until now, but I learned what it is. It’s called love.”
Umber flinched and I laughed even louder.
“Does the word scare you Umber? Does it scare you to think that I would be willing to die for my friends? Answer me dammit!”
Umber said nothing for quite a while. I could tell he was still angry, but he did seem to calm down a bit. “I will not have you dying for those fools you consider to be your friends,” The spirit proclaimed surely.
“But what about you Umber?” I asked darkly. “What did you die for?”
Umber did not respond.
***
The final room was a large dome with elegant stone arches dancing up to the top of the capacity like an elaborate skeleton. The paintings of open sky and landscapes that filled the empty spaces in between each of these were so lifelike that for one disorienting moment it felt as though I had stepped outside. Pacing carefully into the area, I quickly noticed that aside from the murals, there was nothing at all inside of this domain: No shelves, no containers. Not even a vase or fireplace beside me. It seemed in complete honesty as though it was just a quiet little room dedicated to the life of a lone artist long since gone.
Figuring there might be some significance to the paintings surrounding me, I traveled to each oil illustration in turn and carefully inspected the fantastic attention to detail with nothing shy of awe. A blackened creature resembling a horned wolf with four burly arms stood on one side of the room, rising nearly twenty times the size the men nearby. He stood alone, fighting torrents of warlocks and mages with the five objects he had in his possession. A golden plate, a brown leather bag, A stunning topaz gem, along with a thick obsidian like longsword. The final item was a golden pendant wrapped around his neck with mottled blood coloured gems embedded into it
“This is Dormtok, the god who betrayed the rest out of jealousy,” I said, pressing a single finger against the eye of the figure. “Why in the world would the Grimlars have him painted here?” I frowned in deep concentration and suddenly paled.
“A pendant, a poker, a pocket, a pebble, a pan.”
The hairs on my face prickled up as sudden comprehension came to me. The skin around my face felt suddenly too tight. The hairs on my forearms suddenly too sensitive. “The necklace that the professor wants is the one that Dormtok used to kill the gods with.” I fell against a nearby wall as I began to lapse into panic. “The gods were real. The artifacts are real. They’re real.”
“You have no way of knowing that,” Umber said loftily. “You’re overreacting.”
“Then how do you explain the paintings?” I asked loudly, “These are paintings of mages and warlocks working together. Why would the Grimlars keep them unless they had some other significance; Unless they themselves had one of the godly artifacts?”
Umber began to protest, yet I ignored him completely.
“Did the professor know about this?” I wondered to myself. “He couldn’t have... Did he know about the paintings? Was that even possible?”
I looked to the top of the spherical territory again and noticed an odd looking gargoyle hanging from his heels in the very center of the room. Although I could only just barely see the object he held in his concrete grip, I could almost feel its presence. I calmly distorted the floor around me upward and held my trembling arm outstretched to receive the necklace clutched in his grip. The piece was smaller than I’d expected but fit the descriptions the professor had given me perfectly. The distortion insignia was imbedded into the pendant with hundreds if not thousands of identically cut ruby gems. I tenderly pinched the gold of the chain, and felt a strange warmth as the necklace flowed across my fingers like hot water. I stared fixedly at the side of the circular shape and noticed a small engraving in simple, almost primal letters.
“Pride’s grip.”
I licked my lips and tenderly pulled the pendant towards me but flinched slightly when I realized the statue was still holding it. Taking a drawn-out breath, I withdrew F’anger the Beast and swung at the arm of the gargoyle with all the effort that I could muster.
Much to my relief the arm shattered quite easily. It fell to the ground and crumbling into coarse gravel while the necklace fell to my feet with a small tinkle. As I held the pendant between my fingers, it suddenly struck me just how weary I had become. It was well past midnight and I had spent the entire evening running around and distorting things on a little less than a thread of consciousness. That thing in my hand promised relief and an end to weariness. Lulled by its gentle pull, I threw it over my head without thinking.
“JACOB NO!” Umber protested, however he was too late. In one euphoric moment, it was almost as if the entire world around me had turned to paper. I noticed suddenly how fragile everything appeared; easy to manipulate and easy to fold into whatever I wanted. The world became a game that I could work and cheat with nothing but my bare hands. I hadn’t woken up. The universe had.
Despite this I could tell something was wrong. My breaths became weighted. Gravity intensified and soon I had dropped all anti-magical enchantments. Intakes of air were like individual shards of ice forcing their way down my windpipe. My lungs had become punctured balloons, capable of holding nothing more that a dying shudder. I tried to throw the pendant off of my chest but it had simply grown too heavy. Throat swelling, tears welling, I rolled over onto my side and pressed the fingerlink ring into my mouth.
“Professor Wenchenberg... Help me...” I spluttered and sniffed loudly. “Help me...” Had I been rational, I would have known this help wasn’t possible. No one would come, as there would no one who could come. No one would be able to save me without setting off the alarms.
Umber, although putting up a fair bit of resistance was the first thing to fade from my vision. He vanished like a bubble growing old and discoloured before popping unexpectedly. The feeling in my m
outh and face went next, as if I was being plunged headfirst into a bath of ice water.
I blinked as I wearily became aware of a sharp tapping noise echoing from somewhere far away. The necklace fastened to the front of my chest was suddenly thrown off, restoring everything back to the way it had been before. I tried to cough but simply couldn’t muster the effort. My savior put a reassuring arm around me and asked a stern question in a loud voice. I looked up and frowned in confusion, for just by my side, was the one and only Professor Wenchenberg.
“How...?” I asked, weakly sitting up. The professor smiled sheepishly and held out a single cherry.
“You dropped these,” he said quietly.
I rubbed the flaking skin and sweat off of my face before blinking a second time.
“How did you get here without setting the alarms off?” I asked dubiously.
“I didn’t,” the professor responded casually.
My mouth fell open. “But that means...”
“Yes Jacob,” The professor interrupted suddenly. “Within another minute or so, the Grimlars will be here.”
“NO!” I shrieked and tried to leap to my feet.
The professor kept me firmly pinned to the ground.
“Professor what have you done!?”
In response, Wenchenberg gently pressed a bony finger to my lips and made a shushing noise.
“You will be safe,” he assured me with a trembling voice. “I’ve planned a spell that will teleport you out of this room and into my office. You will be safe Jacob.”
“But you won’t!” I responded at double his volume. I gripped his robes and threw him backwards.
The professor grunted with the effort needed to keep himself from being pushed to one side, but eventually fell to the ground beside me.
I couldn’t come to the terms with what the professor was saying. I couldn’t lead myself to believe that he was now going to sacrifice himself just because of a horribly idiotic mistake that I’ve made.
To my astonishment I saw that the professor’s face was wet with soundless tears. For five years of my life, I had known that this was a courageous man. Despite all of his cunning wit and booming bravado, I was now able to see the innocence of a boy who didn’t want to go.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked weakly. “Why leave it until now to devastate me?” The professor muffled a sob with a loud cough and rubbed his whiskered nose with the sleeve of his robe.
“I know you Jacob and I know that like myself, you don’t like endangering the people that make up the world. I knew you wouldn’t have agreed to help me if I had told you I was sacrificing myself. So I never did in the hopes that you wouldn’t overreact.”
My cheeks tinged a deep pink as I realized just how difficult a decision this would have been for the professor. He was sacrificing himself and yet I had the nerve to yell at him and push him to the ground. “We'll get caught together,” I proclaimed staunchly. “We’ll face the Caterwaul and show him what we’ve done.” The adamancy of my decision warmed me up slightly, however Wenchenberg only shook his head.
“No Jacob,” he responded sluggishly. “That... is madness.” His smile quivered and I watched as another tear silently licked at his cheek. “After all we’ve done together, this is the end product. You put in the effort not me, and therefore this freedom should be your gain and not my loss.”
I punched the hard wooden floor of the area with all of my might and stifled a scream of denial. “I was a fool!” I said, sloshing on my own words. “I put on the pendant even though you asked me not to and this is the consequence of my irrational actions.” Professor Wenchenberg suddenly turned stony faced. He shook me viciously and forced my gaze upward.
“Jacob you listen to this above all else,” he demanded in a strict voice. “The fact that I am here now is my decision and not yours. Even if you hadn’t put on that pendant, I would still have come down.” The professor jutted his head to one side and smiled bitterly to himself. “The Caterwaul needs someone to catch in the act, to assure him that he was right in his deductions. He needs to think I stole his prize so that he won’t suspect you. You are still unknown Jacob and after all this time together you have remained as such. For that I thank you.”
I’d like to think that if I had wanted to, I could have stopped him. I’d like to think that as outlandish and cunning as the professor was, I could have realized what he was planning and prevented this from ever happening. But yet the professor never did anything wrong. What would stopping him have proved if his only crime was trying to save the Ickle-Bits?
“You were one of the first friends I’ve ever had,” I whispered softly.
“Mine too,” he responded after a long pause.
I brought my gaze up and stared in amazement. “You mean to tell me after all the time you’ve lived, you’ve never made another friend?”
The professor beamed through his soaking wet face. “You claim that putting on the pendant was a mistake. No mistake is the mistake compared to that horrible selfish fact Jacob. You remember that now.”
“I will,” I promised with my voice cracking high in emotion. The professor removed his handbag and presented it to me with a flourish.
“This bag has just about everything else you’ll need for the rest of your adventure. Plans, maps, my other fingalink ring and and a couple of other special goodies that I’m sure you’ll appreciate.” The professor turned suddenly as a loud echoing commotion could be heard traveling down the hall. He paled slightly, but forced another trembling smile and raised his arms. “Until we may meet again Jacob.” Professor Wenchenberg flexed slightly at the fingertips and twitched. Without any swoosh of sensation, the scene before me suddenly blinked out of existence.
I was back in Wenchenberg’s office and for the first time I was back in the office alone. The handbag tumbled from my open grip and onto the floor, spilling its contents. Papers scattered. books dispersed, and strangely enough, so did the thirteen cherries the professor decided to pick up. I picked one up and carefully bit into it. I found myself stunned by the amazing flavour. This taste was almost painfully sweet, incredibly crisp, and slightly cool. It completely contrasted the warm hollow flavour I had tasted within the gardens of Castle Lambalatrate. Why were these flavours so very different?
“It’s because I had mimicked the form of the professor,” I said in answer to my own question. “I took his form, and because of that I also took his sense of taste.” I looked down at the berries before me, and carefully took another bite. Then another. I flew into a frenzy, picking the fat fruits up in fistfulls and forcing them into my mouth without any regard for my surroundings. The amazingly sour juices dripped down my chin and onto my floor like blood. They stained my hands, my armour, and my tongue. I wanted to feel their sting as they assured me I was still attached to my senses. I bit through pits, and swallowed the flesh that surrounded them, however after a while the meat of the fruit became indistinguishable from the muscle of my tounge tossing the berries about. They were all I had to remember of the professor, and in a little less than two minutes, I had eaten them all.
I was laughing. I was crying. And most unfortunately, I was by myself.
Chapter sixteen
Aftermath
Crying in the wind
Flying through the snow
Dreaming dreams are only so
‘Cause no one else can know
Phoenix rings
Golden wings
dropping by the falls.
Each of these are dreams I’ve had
And due to life now I can tell them all
“Where have you been?” Sebastian asked, blocking my path to my bedroom. I forced a cough and sniffed loudly.
“I’ve been feeling very ill,” I lied quickly. I tried to worm my way around Sebastian however no matter which way I tried to go, he always pushed me back.
“I know that’s not true!” Sebastian shouted, jabbing me sharply in the gut again and again. “The Montrose check
ed the sanitorium. We couldn’t find you anywhere!”
My aching chest screamed in pain as the strikes of the thirteen year old grew in intensity. I fell to the ground after he had landed a blow straight to my stomach and spluttered as a ball of thick mucus was forced up my throat.
“Leave me alone,” I whined, fighting back tears.
Sebastian frowned deeply, rubbed his eyes and fortunately did no more interrogating. I was now free to throw myself away into a near dead tranquillity. I spent a dreamless night trying not to move and most importantly, trying not to think. My thoughts were a knife and unfortunately, this particular knife knew just where to cut me. I wanted to ignore and I wanted to forget.
Gift of Gold (The Year of Churning Bloods) Page 29
