Legend of the Lost Legend
Page 7
“I can’t believe I finally found you!” he exclaimed happily.
“And look what we found!” I declared, pointing to the chest.
Dad’s mouth dropped open. When he jumped out and caught the chest, I don’t think he realized what he had caught.
“It’s — a silver chest!” he exclaimed.
“It’s the silver chest!” I told him. “The silver chest we came to Brovania to find!”
“But — but — how?”
I never saw Dad so confused. Or so excited.
“The Legend of the Lost Legend,” he murmured. He carefully lifted the chest off the ground. “This is the most thrilling moment of my life,” he said. “How did you do this? How did you find this ancient chest? How did you — ?”
His voice cracked. I think he was too excited to speak.
“I told you, Dad. It’s a very long story,” I said.
“At least you can’t say we weren’t helpful!” Marissa chimed in.
All three of us laughed.
“Do you realize what this will mean to us?” Dad asked, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Do you realize what a thrilling discovery this is?”
He dropped down to his knees to admire the chest. He tenderly ran his hands over the smooth silver of the lid.
“Beautiful. Beautiful,” he repeated, grinning.
“Can we open it?” Marissa asked, dropping down on the ground beside him. “Please, Dad? Can we open it and see the Lost Legend?”
“We have to see it!” I exclaimed eagerly. “We have to!”
Dad nodded. “Yes. We have to!” He laughed. “Believe me, I’m even more impatient to see it than you two are!”
He bent over the chest. I saw his hands tremble as he lowered them to the silver clasp.
“Beautiful. Beautiful,” he murmured again.
His hands closed around the clasp. He turned it, then gave a sharp tug.
Slowly, slowly, he pulled open the lid.
And all three of us leaned close and gazed into the chest.
We leaned so close over the chest, our heads touched.
“I — I don’t believe it!” I gasped.
“What is it?” Marissa shrieked.
Dad’s mouth dropped open. He narrowed his eyes and gazed into the chest. He didn’t say a word.
“It–it’s an egg!” I finally stammered.
The three of us were staring down at a large yellow egg with brown speckles.
“But — where is the Lost Legend?” Marissa demanded. “This can’t be it!”
Dad sighed and shook his head. “This isn’t the right silver chest,” he said softly.
He reached inside and carefully lifted the egg. Then he felt around on the bottom of the chest with his free hand. “Nothing else in here. Just an egg.”
He examined the egg, rolling it slowly between his hands. Then he carefully lowered it back into the chest. “Just an egg,” he repeated sadly.
I let out a hoarse cry. “But Marissa and I passed the test!” I wailed. “Luka said he would give us what we came here for!”
“Who is Luka?” Dad asked. He carefully closed the clasp on the chest. Then, with a groan, he climbed to his feet. “Where can we find him?”
Before I could answer, I heard a rustling sound across the clearing. I turned to see Silverdog come trotting out of the weeds.
“Silverdog!” I cried. I rushed forward and petted the dog’s big head and the fur around his neck. “Take us back to Luka!” I ordered him. “Luka! Take us to Luka!”
Silverdog wagged his tail. Did that mean he understood?
“Luka!” I repeated. “Take us to Luka!”
Still wagging his bushy tail, the big dog headed past us to the trees. Dad picked up the silver chest. And the three of us followed the dog back through the forest.
* * *
Marissa and I hadn’t traveled far from the little cabin. A few minutes later, it came into view. Luka hurried out, his face twisted in surprise.
“I didn’t expect to see you back here,” he said, shaking out his long, dark hair. “Did you get lost?”
“No. Not exactly,” Marissa replied.
“This is our dad,” I told Luka. “We finally found him.”
Dad and Luka shook hands.
“Well, why did you come back here?” Luka demanded. He lowered his gaze to the silver chest in Dad’s hands. “I gave you what you came here for.”
“Not exactly,” Dad replied. “It’s an egg.”
“Yes, I know,” Luka said, scratching his jaw.
“But we didn’t come here for an egg!” I protested.
Luka narrowed his eyes at us. “You didn’t come to the forest in search of the Eternal Egg of Truth?”
“No way,” I replied. “Dad brought us here to find the Legend of the Lost Legend.”
“Oops!” Luka blushed. “I made a little goof.” He looked very upset.
“That’s okay,” Dad said softly. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
Luka shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I usually get it right. I really thought you were searching for the Eternal Egg of Truth.”
Still shaking his head, he took the silver chest from Dad’s hands. He carried it into the cabin. A few seconds later, he returned. “A thousand apologies,” he said.
“But can you help us find the Lost Legend?” I demanded. “Do you have it?”
“Do I have it?” The question seemed to surprise Luka. “No. I don’t have it. I think it will be very hard to get it.”
“Why?” Dad asked eagerly. “Do you know where it is?”
Luka nodded. “Yes. I can direct you to the people who have the Lost Legend. But I do not think they will part with it. They have been wandering the forest with it for five hundred years. I do not think they will want to give it to you — for any price.”
“I — I just want to talk with them!” Dad cried excitedly. “I just want to see it with my own eyes!”
“Go in this direction,” Luka instructed us, pointing. “Cross two streams, and you will probably find them on a wide, stone clearing. They wander the forest. They never stay in the same place for long. But I think you will find them in the stone clearing if you hurry.”
“Thank you!” Dad cried, shaking Luka’s hand.
We all thanked Luka. Then we hurried off in the direction he had pointed. We were so excited, all three of us talked at the same time.
“Do you think they’ll be friendly?”
“Do you think they’ll let us see the Lost Legend?”
“Do you think they’ll let me borrow it?” Dad asked. “If I could only borrow it for a few weeks …”
“Luka said they might not be friendly.”
“He said they might not part with it — for any price.”
The journey across the two streams was not difficult. We walked for only an hour.
We were still talking excitedly as we drew near their camp. We stopped on a low hill overlooking a wide patch of stony ground.
The stone clearing.
We could see rows of small tents made of animal hides. Several people, dressed in brown robes, worked to build a fire in the center of the clearing. A bunch of scrawny gray dogs wrestled and snapped at each other at the edge of the clearing.
“I can’t believe it,” Dad exclaimed, his eyes searching the small tent village. “I can’t believe these wanderers actually have the Lost Legend.”
“But will they let us see it?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out,” Dad replied. He led the way down the hill. “Hello, there!” he called out to the wanderers. “Hello!”
“Hello, there! Hello!”
As we stepped onto the stone ground, the scrawny gray dogs stopped wrestling. Barking furiously, they came scurrying up to greet us. They lowered their heads, bared their jagged teeth, and growled.
Marissa, Dad, and I stopped. I saw three men in brown robes come running out of tents. They quickly shooed the dogs away. The men, I saw, were as scrawny as the d
ogs.
“Hello,” Dad greeted them warmly. “I am Professor Richard Clarke, and this is Justin and Marissa.”
The three men nodded solemnly. But they did not speak.
Two of them were bald. One had long, wavy white hair and a bushy white mustache.
Marissa and I exchanged glances.
I could see that she was as frightened as I was. These brown-robed wanderers did not look friendly.
The white-haired man spoke first. “How did you find us?” he demanded coldly.
“Someone directed us to you,” Dad replied.
“Why have you come here, Professor Clarke?” the wanderer asked.
“We’re searching for the Legend of the Lost Legend,” Dad told him.
The three men all gasped in shock. They leaned close and whispered furiously to each other.
When they finished their excited conversation, they turned back to us. But they didn’t speak.
“Do you have it?” Dad asked eagerly. “Do you have the Lost Legend?”
“Yes,” the white-haired man replied. “Yes, we have it.”
He whispered something to the two bald men. They spun around, their long robes twirling with them, and hurried away.
A few seconds later, they returned. One of them carried a small silver chest.
“Oh, my goodness!” Dad declared, his eyes bulging. “Is that it? Is that really it? Is that the Lost Legend?”
“Yes,” the white-haired man replied. “Do you want it?”
“Huh?” all three of us cried.
The wanderer shoved the chest into my hands. I was so shocked, I nearly dropped it!
“It is yours,” the white-haired man said. He stepped back.
Dad swallowed hard. “Are you sure?” he cried. “Are you sure you want to give it to us?”
“Yes. Take it,” the man replied quickly. “Goodbye.”
He and the other two turned and walked quickly back to their tents. To our surprise, they instantly began to pack up.
Dozens of wanderers began pulling up tents, packing up supplies, putting out the campfire. In minutes, they had scurried away.
The stone clearing stood bare. No sign they had ever been there.
“How strange,” Dad said. “How totally strange.”
We began to walk away from the clearing. I think all three of us were in shock or something. I know I was completely stunned.
“They handed the treasure over to us without a word,” Dad said, rubbing his beard. “Why did they do that? Why did they give this treasure to us without asking for anything in return? I just can’t believe it.”
I still had the chest in my arms. After we had walked for a short while, I stopped. “Where are we going?” I demanded. “Let’s open the chest. Let’s take a look at it!”
“Yes!” Dad agreed. “I am so surprised — so stunned — I guess I don’t know what I’m doing!”
He took the chest from me and carefully set it down on the ground. “Let’s see it. Let’s finally see it!”
Carefully, he unlatched the lid and opened the chest. Then he reached inside — and pulled out a manuscript. A thick stack of yellowed paper with tiny black writing all over it.
“Yes!” Dad whispered happily. “Yes!”
He gripped the ancient legend tightly in both hands and held it down so that Marissa and I could see it.
“Wow!” Marissa cried. “It really looks five hundred years old — doesn’t it?”
“Dad, what does it say on the top page?” I asked, struggling to make out the words.
“Uh … let’s see,” Dad replied. He raised the manuscript close to his face, squinted hard at the tiny words, and then read them out loud:
“WHOEVER OWNS THE LOST LEGEND WILL BE LOST FOREVER.”
“Huh? What does that mean?” I cried.
Dad shrugged. “It doesn’t really mean anything. It’s just part of the legend.”
“Are you sure?” Marissa demanded in a trembling voice.
Dad stared down at the manuscript. “ ‘Lost forever …’ ” he murmured. “ ‘Whoever owns the Lost Legend will be lost forever.’ ”
Then he raised his eyes to the trees that surrounded us. “Hey — where are we?”
All three of us gazed around at the strange, dark trees.
We had wandered away from the stone clearing. Now nothing looked familiar.
“Where are we?” Dad repeated.
“We–we’re lost,” I whispered.
R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street and the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at RLStine.com.
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Copyright © 1996 by Scholastic Inc.
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This edition first printing, 2017
e-ISBN 978-1-338-32877-6
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