by Troy Hooker
Panic suddenly overtook him. Did he do or say something wrong? Was it about Emma?
Without responding, he walked down the steps and followed Mr. Sterling outside, noticing the long glances that Miss Karpatch and Cooley gave him as he slunk past them. Once the door was shut, Mr. Sterling motioned for Sam to sit in one of the rocking chairs on the porch as he eased himself into another.
Even in the colder air, Sam felt warm. He stared at the black line of thick pines just beyond the boundary of the cabin property, thinking about what could be waiting in the darkness of this strange place. The nearly full moon shone brightly above them, making the small river that cut directly through the property glisten with each ripple and crest over the deeply submerged rocks. It was just barely passable by boat, but judging by the overgrown foliage creeping up around the canoe, it hadn’t been traversed in quite awhile.
“How are you doing with all of this, Sam?” Mr. Sterling asked him as he sipped his coffee. The smell wafted over to Sam, who suddenly wished he had another cup.
“Good, I guess,” he answered quickly, but really, there was no way to tell how he was at that moment.
Mr. Sterling smiled.
“I know better than that. Let me see if I can get this right—first you were shipped to a backwoods town and forced to live with your grandfather, whom you had never truly known before then, tortured incessantly by a no-good yokel with bushy hair, then lured to a cave and told you have entered another world,” he paused and smiled casually. “I would say that most people wouldn’t be fine with that.”
He nailed it right on the head, Sam thought.
“Yeah, I guess it’s a little much all at once.”
“Sam, you will see and understand everything in due time,” he sighed. “I know it’s frustrating, but we feel it best if you learned about us and this place little by little.”
Sam curled his eyebrows in defiance.
“I don’t understand. I just wish I could know more about this place—and whatever this group … is.”
“Yes, yes, I do know what you are going through. But I need you to be patient—to accept what you do not quite understand yet. This place,” he pointed with his coffee cup at the cold dark scene in front of him, “is where I—well we—believe you belong.”
Sam didn’t answer, only nodded in the darkness. Something about Mr. Sterling’s words felt right, even though everything inside him just wanted to scream out as loud as he could. Belong here? Where even in the world is here?
“Sam, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
Sam froze. Here it is. The talk about Emma and how he should keep his hands off …
Mr. Sterling took a deep breath.
“Sam, you are going to be faced with challenges here you never anticipated. Challenges, such as, well, whatever you struggle with will be amplified here tremendously.” He sipped his coffee again. “I know you were thrown into this without really being asked, but there are things here … that will try and take advantage of your weaknesses.”
“I noticed,” Sam sputtered without thinking, his mind racing to the unknown noise in the woods.
“Sam, I need to know what really happened out there,” Mr. Sterling said sternly as he leaned forward on the chair, making it creak loudly in the darkness.
Sam considered holding back once more, but then concluded there was no other way but to tell him the truth.
“Please know I only have this group’s—and your best interests at heart.”
“I uh … well, I think there was something out there,” he stammered, the words sounding strange coming out of his mouth. “Something maybe with … well … green eyes.”
Mr. Sterling leaned back in his chair and began to rock slowly, staring off into the night silently. For a moment, Sam wondered if he said something wrong. Maybe it was only part of the effects from the arch—delusions that came with the intense light. But he knew that was unlikely, and judging from Mr. Sterling’s expression, it was significant enough for him to be concerned with.
“Mr. Sterling, what is this place?” he decided to avoid the topic of the green eyes for the moment.
Mr. Sterling sighed, staring into the thick black night.
“I suppose it could be considered a different world, except that wouldn’t be entirely accurate,” he stopped, still focused on the dark tree line in front of him. “Sam, what do you know about the spiritual world?”
“Uh—like good versus evil?” Sam guessed.
“Yes, in a way,” Mr. Sterling nodded. “Here, however, our evil has substance, and a name. Its name is Sevel. It is pure emptiness, absolute Darkness, void of Light and morality—and it is very powerful.”
“I have always thought that kind of stuff to be a myth,” Sam paused. “And—”
“And?”
“… a religious crutch. Like the hero that shows up and saves everyone … except that he never does.”
Mr. Sterling laughed, and Sam looked cross-eyed at him.
“Emma told me you were an intelligent boy. I guess she was right,” he smiled at him. “But you know, believing in a hero requires faith, and so does not believing.”
“I’m not sure I am following,” Sam admitted.
He sipped his coffee more slowly.
“Your understanding will come in due time, Sam. It will just require a little realignment of faith on your part, but it is ultimately your choice.”
Sam’s face grew warm again.
“I hope to understand, sir. I just wish I could really see what is happening. It all seems so surreal, almost like a cruel joke someone plays on you.”
Mr. Sterling chuckled.
“Thank you for that, Sam. It takes me back to my first time in this place.”
“When did you find out about here, sir?”
“My father showed me when I was thirteen—the age of understanding,” he paused. “He brought me out here to this cabin, in fact. I, too, was on a need-to-know basis.”
“Where did you go from here?” Sam pressed for information, eager to hear the story.
He chuckled once again, and Sam knew that he had pushed him as far as he was going to go tonight.
“Then on to Lior City, where we are going tomorrow,” Mr. Sterling said with finality.
Lior City? Where was that? Even though his knowledge of world cities was extensive, that one was unfamiliar.
“Now, Sam,” he patted Sam’s knee, “off to bed with you. We have a long walk tomorrow.”
Sam stood and walked toward the door, knowing that Mr. Sterling wasn’t going to discuss any more detail with him. His place was finding out on a need-to-know basis.
“Sam,” Mr. Sterling called after him as his hand touched the cold metal latch of the cabin door. “Be careful with my daughter. She means a lot to me,” he said smiling.
Sam nodded and closed the door behind him, his reply choked in the surprise of Mr. Sterling’s parting words.
When he reached the loft, the others were in their bunks reading by the dim light of the table lamps. He silently went to his own bunk and found a package waiting for him. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a simple white piece of string.
Glancing around the room, he looked to see if anyone would give away who had given him the package. No one even so much as glanced up from their reading.
He untied the string and opened the thick brown paper carefully. Inside were a new pair of satin blue pinstripe pajamas and a pair of leather house shoes with flannel linings.
Sam slipped into the closet in the corner and changed into his new nightclothes and house shoes. They fit perfectly.
Stepping back out into the room, he noticed suddenly that everyone was gone. He was alone.
Then from the stairs below he heard what sounded like whispers. Instinctively, he snuck to the stairwell to listen to the hushed c
onversation.
When he reached the top of the stairs, however, he was suddenly met with a howl of cheers and claps from the living room below as the entire cabin stood watching him.
For a moment he stood completely stunned, but at their beckoning, he was forced out of hiding and down the stairs to the group. He was immediately greeted with more whoops and cheers from everyone as they surrounded him, hugging and patting him on the back.
Mrs. Sterling then emerged with a huge strawberry frosted cake and a pitcher of tea, which drew more whoops and calls.
“Eat up, everyone! This is a special day!” she called, handing out plates of cake as quickly as she could.
“Oh, very nice!” Emma whistled at his new pajamas. “I think the satin blue goes with your eyes!”
Lillia looked at her in disgust, but then smiled smugly at him.
“While I don’t share her pathetic romanticism, the threads do look pretty great.”
Gus patted him on the back awkwardly.
“We all wanted to let you know how glad we are that you are here with us.”
“Welcome to the family, Sam,” Mrs. Sterling hugged him, smiling ear to ear and handing him a huge piece of cake with extra frosting.
Then without warning, fat tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop them from flowing. For the first time in a long time, he felt really welcomed somewhere.
Miss Karpatch hadn’t spoken much to him since he saw her at the arch, but now she smiled and put an arm around him, her long ponytail nearly landing in his frosting.
“Sam, you need to know how much we all care for you.”
Sam looked at his teacher. Part of him wanted still to be angry with her for constantly invading his personal life, but somehow he knew there was more to her worrying than just his grades and home life. She was only trying to understand him.
A stiff hand was suddenly on his shoulder.
“We are all grateful you were able to join us,” Harper Cooley said queerly, then turned quickly to refill his coffee from the pot.
Sam enjoyed the company of his new family around him and the strawberry cake that seemed to appear from nowhere. At some point during his second piece of cake, someone turned on the little radio in the corner. Lively music that simulated a cross between classical and folk erupted into the cabin, and suddenly Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, Lillia, and Miss Karpatch were all out in the middle of the living room, dancing and taking bites of strawberry cake whenever they could.
Before he could stop her, Emma had dragged Sam out into middle of the group and all but forced him to dance with her. They danced until Sam felt as though he was going to pass out from exhaustion. Emma laughed at him for his lack of rhythm and stepping on her toes while they danced, but Sam didn’t care.
While they danced, at some point he began to laugh at Emma’s poking fun of his dancing, and couldn’t stop, which made Emma laugh even more. They laughed and danced, holding each other up for support so they didn’t fall into Gus and Lillia and Cooley and Miss Karpatch dancing. Then he whispered to Emma to look at Cooley’s face, solemn and determined, but it didn’t help his dancing. He was worse than Sam. This set Emma off on another laughing spree, one from which she wasn’t going to recover very easily.
Suddenly, Emma had a hold of his arm and before he knew it, she had whisked him out the front door and pressed her lips to his.
She kissed him softly, making his senses flood wildly throughout his body. Tingles rushed to the surface of his skin, and he stiffened, unable to move in her grasp.
Then she pushed him away and began laughing once again, but Sam couldn’t laugh. He could only stare at her, his lips still burning hotly from the surprise kiss.
She dragged him back indoors, and they danced again until Mrs. Sterling finally shooed everyone to bed, which was well after one o’clock in the morning.
Sam snuggled comfortably under his covers and stole a glance at Emma, who seemed not even to notice he was looking at her. But even in the darkness of the loft in the cabin, he could see that she was smiling, and that was all that he needed before drifting off to the best sleep he had in year.
Chapter Five
Jester’s Pass
Yes. I’m positive. One was seen in the storm that just hit White Pine.”
Downstairs, Mr. Sterling’s muffled voice was heard.
Sam heard them before his eyes opened, and when they finally did, he could tell it was still dark.
The men were talking in excited tones, and although they were trying to contain their voices, Sam heard them loud and clear.
“How is that possible? How could they have gotten through the gate?” Cooley whined.
“My guess is that it was the same as the incident fifteen years ago … a former Watcher of the Light let them through.”
“That was circumstantial. No one proved it.”
“And yet it happened. How else could the Storm Lord get through the gate? We know there are those loyal to the Darkness in Creation, but the Dark Watchers? How can fallen get through?”
“Maybe with a spell, or perhaps the gate had a hiccup or something,” Cooley smacked his lips angrily. “But we don’t know for sure it was Sar Serhah that caused the one in White Pine. The monitoring tower still shows all three Lords locked up.”
“True, but how can we explain the storm? Its signature from the PO office suggests—” Mr. Sterling attempted to keep Cooley under control. “
“Either way, I don’t think it’s substantial enough to report to the Council or the Chancellor. They will require proof, and we can’t give that to them.”
“I agree,” Mr. Sterling said softly, then lowered his voice so low that Sam strained to hear from his bunk. “But it is unusual, all this activity—first Sam’s encounter and now this. We must be on our guard—and find proof if we can.”
Mr. Sterling must have heard Emma come down the stairs because he immediately began speaking in his normal volume. Sam hadn’t even noticed her slip past him in the dark because he was so intent on the conversation below.
“Hi honey. How did you sleep?”
Emma kissed her father and murmured something incoherent, but then, only a few moments later, she could be heard happily reciting wakeup songs with her mother in the kitchen.
Last night, she had kissed him. He touched his finger to his lips to recall the feeling of hers against his. Still lying in the dark, another chill went up his spine that resembled the one from the previous night. It was soft, delicate, and unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was, in fact, his first and only kiss.
The smell of coffee and bacon frying permeating upstairs woke him from his daydream. Gus was already dressing and Lillia was already gone, her bunk neatly made.
After they were ready, he and Gus went downstairs for breakfast, which consisted of a very large bowl of eggs and another of fried potatoes, a pile of bacon, biscuits with jam, and milk. Sam wondered how the groceries had made it to the cabin. Perhaps one of their magical blue lanterns had brought them here.
Mr. Sterling waited until everyone had taken a seat before he himself sat at the large table, which took up nearly the entire first floor of the small cabin.
“Let us give thanks for our abundant blessing,” Mr. Sterling announced, and folded his hands. Sam followed the rest of the table and closed his eyes.
“Our Lord and Creator, please bless this food. We thank you for its nourishment, and for protecting us here. We are grateful for our newest member, and we ask that you would guide him in his steps as he searches for answers,” Mr. Sterling paused, “and Lord, please guide us today as we travel. In your name, Lord, amen.”
Sam felt his face grow warm when he opened his eyes. He hadn’t prayed much before, and he had never been talked about during a prayer in a group. Something inside him made him angry when
he thought about these things, and he couldn’t explain it. It just made him angry.
Although he didn’t usually eat much for breakfast on normal days, today he felt ravenous and had three eggs, multiple pieces of bacon, two biscuits, and two large helpings of potatoes. Gus, Lillia, and Emma must have felt the same because they ate nearly as much as he did.
Mrs. Sterling seemed pleased with the amount they were eating and offered more to all of them, but no one could eat another bite. However, when she offered to refill coffee cups, they held their cups up eagerly.
After a few minutes of conversation and sipping coffee, Mr. Sterling cleared his throat to get their attention. Instinctively, everyone at the table quieted and looked toward him.
“First of all, I would like to thank my wife Cindy for a wonderful breakfast.”
Cheers and thank yous rang around the table to Mrs. Sterling, who promptly blushed and waved them off.
“Now, our plan for the day.” He pulled a map from his tweed sport coat and laid it on the table. “We will be heading to Lior City by way of Jester’s Pass, then through the Lior Forest.”
There were surprised glances from the around the table.
“Why aren’t we taking the Lightway in Warm Springs?” Emma asked disappointedly. “This is the first year we can all use it!”
Mr. Sterling sighed, “It’s been having problems.”
Grunts and groans rippled through the group.
“For the hundredth time,” Lillia rolled her eyes.
“Now, don’t complain. This will give Sam a good chance to see the area.”
“And we all could use the exercise anyway,” Miss Karpatch offered cheerfully.
“There’s one more thing,” Mr. Sterling said over the chatter. “Fenton Chivler is missing.”
A hush fell silently over the group. Lillia looked the most disturbed.
“Since when?”
“Last night during the storm,” Cooley answered. “However, it could be that he is simply taking a vacation.”
Sam looked around the table and saw the looks of concern on Emma’s and Mrs. Sterling’s faces. Lillia looked as though she was going to punch whoever was responsible.
