The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis
Page 7
“Gesundheit,” Professor Lucas said. He grunted to pick it up. Amanda winced, hearing his knees crack. “What’s this?” he asked, looking over the cover.
“It’s a book of riddles Melody found with the crystal trident,” Amanda replied. “I was just keeping it safe for her. You can pass it back to Melody.”
“No, Professor Lucas. This book rightfully belongs to Amanda Sault,” Lilith said, procuring the book from him. The professor frowned, looked down at his empty hands, and grunted. Lilith looked at Amanda approvingly and handed it to her. “The Timekeepers’ log has chosen you to be the Scribe.”
Dumbfounded, Amanda stared at the book of riddles—now dubbed the Timekeepers’ log—in her hands. Before Amanda could ask what she had meant, Lilith bowed regally, turned around, and started walking toward the huge golden statue of Poseidon.
“What’s a Scribe?” Treena asked.
“Isn’t that like some kind of writer, only more disciplined?” Jordan guessed.
Ravi chuckled. “Well if it is, then Sault’s the wrong person to be a Scribe!”
Amanda didn’t hesitate. She poked Ravi in the ribs with the book.
“Amanda can write, Sharma!” Treena blurted. “FYI—she had a poem published in the White Pines Weekly last month.”
Amanda’s cheeks were blazing now. It was a good thing that her skin was bronze—it hid most of her blush. She had handed in her poem under a pseudonym. That was their secret. Amanda caught Jensen flashing an incisor like a shark.
He snickered. “Hey, guys, imagine that, a tomboy poet. Roses are red. Violets are blue. I get sore knees—when I tackle you!”
The boys broke out in laughter. The girls did not.
“This is ridiculous!” Melody burst out, pushing back tendrils of dark hair out of her face. “You children can barely get along with one another. How on earth are you possibly going to work together as Timekeepers when your lives may depend on it?”
Amanda stared at the Timekeepers’ log. Melody had a point. Even in class, their seats were far apart from each other. Maybe this Timekeeper thing wasn’t such a good idea. Amanda clutched the log to her chest and glanced down at the reflective marble tiles. How could she manage the job of Scribe when she had enough on her plate with an assignment on “The Chivalry of Knights” due on Monday? Amanda lifted her head. She jumped, shocked to find Lilith standing in front of her. In Lilith’s hands dangled seven strange-looking necklaces made of a metal that sparkled like embers in a campfire. Attached on the end of each necklace was a light blue stone, the size of a walnut.
Lilith smiled as she gently placed one of the necklaces around Amanda’s neck. “Here, you will have need of this, Amanda Sault.”
Amanda accepted it with a smile and looked it over as Lilith doled out the rest of the necklaces to the others. It wasn’t as heavy as she thought it would be; in fact it was about half the weight of a cell phone. The blue stone was set in place by thin pieces of flickering metal. She didn’t think it was gold; it appeared smooth and shiny, closer to the color of copper. Amanda felt her palm heat up before she reached for the clear, blue stone. It cooled her palm instantly, as if she had submerged her hand into a deep, glacier lake.
“Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, Lilith, but jewelry isn’t my style,” Drake said, as he tried to dodge Lilith. “But, if you’ve got any solid gold skateboards, I’ll take one of those!”
“Ditto!” Ravi added.
“You will need this if you are to be a Timekeeper, Drake Bailey. It is called a Babel necklace. It will break any language barriers that you may come across.”
“Language barriers?” Treena asked, rolling the blue stone between her palms. “What do you mean, Lilith?”
“Different cultures speak in different tongues, Treena Mui,” Lilith explained. “The Babel necklace is attuned to all languages here on Earth, extinct or existing. It will act as a receiver as well as a transmitter. In other words, you will be able to understand everyone you meet, and they in turn, will understand what you say to them.”
Drake looked doubtful, but he put the necklace on.
“Sweet! I can hardly wait to try this out in French class!” Jordan said.
Lilith pursed her full lips and shook her head firmly. “The Babel necklace only works when you are on a Timekeeper mission, Jordan Jensen.”
“What’s this necklace made of, Lilith?” Professor Lucas asked. “I’ve never quite seen a metal like this before. It’s shinier than gold.”
“It’s orichalcum, Professor Lucas. You can’t find it anywhere else but on Atlantis. The blue stone is a special crystal that has been energized by the sun for at least one hundred years.”
“Excuse me, Lilith,” Ravi cut in. “How long does a Timekeeper mission last?”
Lilith shrugged. “It takes as long as it takes, Ravi Sharma. Some Timekeeper missions take a few hours or a day to complete. Others may take weeks or even months to accomplish.”
Lilith said it like it was no big deal. Weeks? Months? Won’t we be missed? Amanda’s mind went to amber alert, and she shook her head. “Lilith, we can’t be gone for long. Our faces and names would be plastered all over police bulletin boards, milk cartons, and probably on television.”
Treena jumped. “OMG! Television? Really? I hope my parents use one of my head shots from my portfolio!”
“You’d be dangerous if you had a brain, Mui,” Jordan said. “Amanda’s being serious.”
“You don’t know what serious is, Jensen!” Ravi growled. “If I’m not back home by tonight, then the battery in my myoelectric hand won’t get recharged. And if it doesn’t get recharged, I can’t use it! And if I can’t use it, then I can’t punch your freaking brains out!”
Both Amanda and Jordan took a few steps back. But Lilith held her ground, grasped Ravi by the chin, and said, “Trust, Ravi Sharma. You must learn this. All will be provided for you and the others. You have what you need with you, as well as the unseen power inside of you, to face each obstacle you meet. Everyone does. Now here, Ravi Sharma, I have another gift.”
Ravi seemed on the verge of tears as Lilith rolled up his right arm’s sleeve. Amanda had never seen Ravi’s entire artificial hand, only the part he allowed the world to see. She had never touched it, but heard it thud against his desk enough times to know it was made of hard plastic. The color was a close match to Ravi’s light brown skin, and it appeared to end about four inches away from his pink-scarred elbow. Amanda and the others watched in silence as Lilith flipped over Ravi’s prosthesis and removed the attached battery. She then replaced it with a long, narrow purple crystal surrounded by tiny strips of that orichalcum stuff. It clicked in perfectly, as if it was made for that purpose.
“What did you give him, Lilith?” Melody asked, moving in for a closer look.
Lilith rolled down Ravi’s sleeve and let go of his arm. “A piece of Atlantean know-how. Go ahead and give it a try, Ravi Sharma.”
Ravi wiped away the glisten from his eyes and nodded. He opened and closed his prosthesis with ease, just as he could always do. His stony facial expression changing into one of awe. A light had clicked on for Ravi the moment his fingers began to move in unison, synchronizing with each other, going back and forth with a rhythm of their own. Amanda found herself mirroring Ravi’s movements with her hand. Finally, he moved his thumb down, then up, as tears flooded his eyes.
“I-I can feel my hand as…as if it were real again,” Ravi choked.
Then, Ravi wiped his face and flashed Lilith the thumbs up sign.
Lilith returned his gesture and said, “Like the Babel necklace, this crystal battery only operates when you’re on a Timekeeper mission, Ravi Sharma.”
“Well, you’ve solved Sharma’s problem, Lilith,” Drake said, “but what if a Timekeeper mission lasts more than a few hours?”
“Time is an illusion, Drake Bailey,” Lilith answered calmly. “You can never ‘measure’ it. Time exists simultaneously. Therefore you and the other Timekeepers will ne
ver be missed and will never age during the entire stay of each Timekeeper mission.”
“But, Lilith, how do we know what part of history we’re supposed to keep from changing?” Jordan asked.
“That is the Scribe’s job, Jordan Jensen,” Lilith replied. Then she held out her hand to Amanda. “Here, this is for you, Amanda Sault. Every Scribe needs one.”
A thin, long, clear crystal glittered in Lilith’s open hand. It was about the shape and size of a pen. A dark blue point glowed at one end. Amanda picked it up and let her thumb slide down the length of it.
“Thanks, Lilith. Um, what exactly is this thing?”
“It is your crystal chalkis, Amanda Sault. You use it to record each Timekeeper mission.”
“But how do I know what the mission will be?” Amanda asked.
“The crystal chalkis will tell you in the same way it told Frances Tarbush and later, Florence Whitney. Just trust the voice that comes into your head, and transcribe what you hear into the Timekeepers’ log.”
“M-My great aunt was a Timekeeper?” Melody asked, covering her mouth.
“Yes, Melody Spencer. Both Florence Whitney and Frances Tarbush were wonderful Timekeepers. They learned how to flow with time and not be trapped by it. Unfortunately, Max Tarbush chose to take another path and was not so lucky.”
“Wait a minute. Max Tarbush? Why does that name ring a bell?” Professor Lucas asked, as he pushed his fishing hat off his forehead to scratch it. He snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah, now I remember, he was presumed murdered sometime back in the early twentieth century. The urban legend goes that Tarbush got into some money problems with a few of the lumber mills in White Pines. Apparently the man loved to gamble. Then one night while closing up his hotel for the evening, Tarbush was attacked. The rumors say it was probably someone Tarbush cheated on in a card game. A few of the hotel’s guests heard shouting going on downstairs, and by the time they went to investigate, they found a puddle of blood in the backyard, but no trail. Now, this is where the mystery comes in, because a severed hand was also discovered on the ground, still twitching. To this day, Tarbush’s body has never materialized.”
“Cool story, Professor Lucas. Sounds like a mob hit to me,” Treena said, running a finger underneath her throat.
“On the contrary, Treena Mui,” Lilith said. “Max Tarbush disappeared into time.”
“Disappeared into time? How?” Ravi asked, his voice almost squeaking.
“Max Tarbush was a victim of his own dark machinations, Ravi Sharma,” Lilith answered. She turned and glided toward a marble column.
Amanda noticed that the top of the tall, polished column was covered by a shimmering, purple cloth. Lilith lifted the cloth to reveal a crystal ball the size of a huge grapefruit, held up by two bronze hands.
Lilith stepped back. “It would be easier if I show you what happened. All you need to do is take a deep breath and stare into Poseidon’s Eye.”
Amanda inhaled, and suddenly she was drifting, as if she were being hypnotized, sliding, whirling, and spiraling into another dimension, another place. When Amanda’s head stopped spinning, she saw a young girl wearing a ratty apron-like dress. The girl was thin and had dark iridescent hair tied in a neat bun. She was serving drinks to a group of men playing cards at a table in a parlor decorated with ugly floral wallpaper. Amanda started to make out voices—the men sounded drunk, loud, and obnoxious. A man with dark bushy hair and an equally dark bushy mustache, dressed in a pin-striped suit, stood up and pointed toward a large, picturesque window.
“I’ll wager that stone arch to clear all my debts with you,” the man said.
Amanda looked at what he was pointing to, and her eyes bugged. It was the Arch of Atlantis! The young girl dropped the tray of drinks. “Oh no, you mustn’t, sir! Mrs. Tarbush would be most upset!”
Another man, wearing a cleaner, pressed suit, laughed. “I see the women have the run of your establishment, Max. It’s no wonder your finances are in such a mess!”
Knowing now it was Max Tarbush, Amanda watched him grab the girl’s arm and twist it viciously. “Hold your tongue, Florence! Else you’ll be in for the beating of your life!”
“B-B-But, sir, Mrs. Tarbush adores that stone arch! I shall tell her, I will!”
Max Tarbush raised his hand and started to beat Florence, over and over again. She screamed, but no one came to help her. The other men got up and left. Blood drizzled from her face and speckled her apron. Amanda’s heart raced, her fists balled, her mouth turned to cotton. Then, as if time shifted, she saw young Florence curled up next to a weathered shed. The night sky rumbled and flickered until a flash of forked lightning made Amanda flinch. A stout woman with short brown hair suddenly appeared in the garden, holding out a lantern as if searching for someone. She wore pleated pants and a blouse with ruffles. A Babel necklace swung across her ample chest. A sudden gasp escaped her broad lips upon finding the beaten girl, and she collapsed next her. Placing the lantern on the ground, she ran her ruddy hands gently along the length of Florence’s thin body until she cupped her swollen and bruised face.
“Did…Did Maxwell do this, child?” the woman asked in horror.
Florence whimpered. “Aye, Mrs. Tarbush, but I stood up to him. He was going to wager your beautiful stone arch in a card game while you were away. But I told him he mustn’t. I knew everything would change if he did.”
Amanda could feel the woman’s anger rippling under her own skin. Raging against the man—her husband, Max Tarbush—Frances Tarbush stood up, and spying an axe leaning against the shed, she grabbed it. It didn’t take her long to find Max Tarbush, who was sitting alone at the card table, pouring himself another drink. Amanda’s nostrils flared. The heavy scent of cheap whiskey filled her up, made her retch.
“How dare you lay a beating on that girl!” Frances seethed. “And how many times have I told you, the stone arch is off limits to you, Maxwell!”
Max Tarbush looked up from his stupor and laughed. Amanda could tell that Frances Tarbush was at her limit by the way she gripped the axe handle. Then, hearing nothing but glass shattering, Amanda winced as Frances Tarbush swept the axe across the table, grazing her husband’s forehead, and knocking him off his chair. Bang! He screamed, clutching his head.
With the axe still in her grasp, Frances Tarbush bolted out the door, into the backyard, and headed for the Arch of Atlantis. Not far behind, Max Tarbush stumbled and staggered across the ground, spewing obscenities Amanda had never heard before. She blushed anyway.
A bolt of lightning ripped through the darkness and hit the crystal trident set in the keystone of the Arch of Atlantis. Finger-like sparks flew from the trident like fireworks, and the arch started to hum. The sound screamed through Amanda’s body, making her feel woozy, almost to the point of being sick. Frances Tarbush led her husband to the threshold of the droning arch, and turned, holding out the axe in front of her.
Max Tarbush skidded to a stop, almost falling. His forehead was cut and bleeding, his breathing irregular and harsh. He wiped his brow and held out his hand. “Give me the axe, Frances, and I’ll spare the girl’s life.”
Frances shook her head and stood her ground. Amanda swallowed hard, tasting bile, just as Max Tarbush charged his wife. She stepped to the right, and Max went sailing into the archway, disappearing into a swirling black hole. Fear, anger, pain exploded through Amanda. She hugged herself. A morbid scream echoed out of the archway with such intensity, it knocked Frances Tarbush off balance. She fell to the ground, and the axe flew out of her hands.
“Not so fast, my love!” Max Tarbush sputtered as half his body emerged from the archway. He grabbed her foot. “I’ll show you who wears the pants around here!”
Amanda jumped. His voice sounded mechanical. Part of him was still stuck in the dark, whirling void. Her eyes widened. He was planning to take his wife with him!
“Noooo!” Florence screamed and scrambled across the grass toward the axe.
Florence clenched he
r jaw and gripped the axe handle as if it were part of her. She raised the axe as far above her head as she could muster and then swung it down with enough force to chop off Max’s hand. His screams permeated Amanda’s being as she watched his blood gush everywhere. Suddenly, the arch released the crystal trident from its keystone just as the raging black whirlwind sucked Max into oblivion, leaving Frances Tarbush and Florence Whitney behind, hugging each other in sudden silence.
Amanda shuddered, feeling the darkest part of humanity, of herself, leave her body in that instant. She knew it was there, yet she knew she was safe from all the Max Tarbushes in the world. Then it was over just as quickly as it had begun, and Amanda slipped back into the present.
Lilith carefully covered Poseidon’s Eye with the purple cloth. “You must remember to make sure you protect those people living in the present by taking the crystal trident out of the keystone during each Timekeeper mission. It is imperative that you do this.”
“Awesome, Lilith! That was better than any horror flick I’ve ever seen,” Ravi said, rubbing his prosthesis. “It was like watching a totally hyped-up 3D version.”
“How did Frances Tarbush find the crystal trident, Lilith?” Jordan asked. “It’s not like she’s someone with an archeological degree like my uncle or that creep Crowley.”
Lilith cradled her hands across her stomach. “It was a matter of like attracting like, Jordan Jensen. Like Amanda, Frances Tarbush was attuned to the crystal trident’s unique sound vibration, like when you hear ringing in your ears, and followed the sound to the hidden compartment in the top of the arch.”
Jordan’s mouth twitched. “You mean the crystal trident acted like a cell phone and used a special ring tone to call her?”
“That is exactly what I mean, Jordan Jensen. Well done!” Lilith clapped.
Suddenly, Melody groaned. “Well that’s bloody great. I’m related to an axe wielding criminal.” Her shoulders slumped.
“Florence Whitney and Frances Tarbush are more heroes than criminals, Melody Spencer,” Lilith said defensively. “They did what they needed to do in order to protect the code of time and maintain the delicate balance between the past and future. Max Tarbush threatened to expose this because of his greedy, cruel nature.”