The Watcher Key (Descendants of Light Book 1)

by Troy Hooker

Seeing that Emma was motionless and breathing heavy on his shoulder, Sam nodded to Gus’s statement and then gently woke her.

  “She would no doubt appreciate that,” he said quietly.

  Gus, who was mid yawn, looked at Emma, and then stood and poured a small bucket of water on the already dying coals.

  “Guess we’d better head to bed too, right?”

  The two boys helped Emma into the cabin and then retreated upstairs, where soft sheets and heavy comforters waited to keep them warm through the cool coastal night. After slipping into the pajamas that Mrs. Sterling had bought for him, Sam climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling. Gus wasn’t far behind him, but seemed to linger a bit reading his journal in the dim light of a lantern before getting into bed. Just before he covered the lantern, however, Sam thought he saw Gus peering at him curiously from under the covers.

  Chapter Seven

  Boy With the Shadows

  In the shadows inside the old building, the blackened arch loomed in front of him, glowing an eerie shade of purple as the cloaked person stood at one of its legs, holding the glowing stone in front of him. For a moment, he looked up, as if sending up a prayer, then he inserted the glowing stone into a small hole in the arch. Instantly he stepped back, as if waiting for something to happen, but there was nothing.

  Then all at once, black shapes emerged through the arch, descending upon him.

  “Ayet Sal,” a voice whispered. “Malek Eben.”

  Sam awoke to an abrupt knock on the door downstairs, which silenced the sounds of the peaceful lapping of the waves on the shoreline.

  “Just a minute!” Mrs. Sterling’s birdlike voice could be heard through the living room to whoever was waiting outside, asking them to wait until she was dressed.

  The others must have come in during the night after Sam, Gus, and the girls were already in bed, but they were too sound asleep to hear them arrive.

  “I wonder who could be here this early during Light Festival week,” Gus yawned and sat up in his bunk. “Usually this is the week we all sleep in.”

  Sam rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Light was just beginning to shine through the window of the cabin loft and drown out the pale blue light in the bathroom from the Lazuli lamp.

  The dreams had returned, and they seemed to be growing more intense, more clear. He was used to them by now, but they still left him shaken for a few moments after he woke up. He splashed some water on his face to clear the sleep out of his eyes.

  The sky showed a promise of a clear day, and Sam’s heart leapt as he thought of the possibility of finding out more about himself. He was glad to take his mind off the dreams for a little bit. Was he really a Descendant? Could he manipulate Light like the others?

  Gus had told him that as head of research, Miss Karpatch would likely be involved in searching through the records for his connection to the Descendants. If she was unable to find one, as Director for the Creation side of Lior’s Protector Office, Mr. Sterling would have no choice but to inform the Council of Sam’s unknown past. What the Council would do at that point was anyone’s guess.

  Why bring him here if they knew his past couldn’t be verified? They had to have a reason, but they weren’t telling him the whole truth. Why not tell him? It wasn’t like he couldn’t handle it … or maybe they didn’t know … But one thing was for sure, at some point he figured he would have to confront Mr. Sterling to get some real answers.

  Gus stumbled into the bathroom when Emma came bounding up the stairs, nearly catching both of them in their underpants. Luckily Sam had learned from the last time Emma appeared upstairs without knocking, and had folded his jeans and set them at the foot of the bed for easy access. Gus, although not quite as prepared, was able to get the bathroom door closed with his foot before her head poked into the room.

  “Saaaaam!” Emma said rather snidely. “You’re requested downstairs.” Then she curtly turned on her slippers and huffed down the steps, stopping only to throw her hair back in the most pretentious imitation she possibly could. “By Sayvon.”

  Sam’s mind raced. He immediately flushed at the thought that Sayvon wanted to see him, but also because Emma seemed genuinely jealous. He wasn’t intending to make her that way—he really liked Emma, and it was only for a brief moment that he thought of how beautiful Sayvon was at the feast.

  Gus popped the door open and with a mouthful of toothpaste blubbered, “Girlths. Thaas why I try not ta’ meth wid ‘em!”

  Sam couldn’t help smiling both for the dripping white foam sputtering out of Gus’s mouth and for thinking of what Gus’s girlfriend would look like.

  Descending the steps, he was met with a tall, broad shouldered man with a newly pressed red robe and shiny brown shoulder-length hair. His smile spread ear-to-ear but fit well with his chiseled features. As Sam had seen so many times before, this man looked like a politician.

  “Sam, I would like you to meet Mr. Talister Calpher. He’s an Elder on the High Council, a neighbor here in the circle, and a good friend of ours. We were just telling him about your first time in Lior City,” Mrs. Sterling said cheerfully.

  “Good to meet you, Sam. I heard some about you last night at the feast. Have you met my daughter, Sayvon?” he gestured toward the kitchen table where she and Emma were chatting over a cup of tea.

  “Not formally, Sir,” he managed to say, but was entranced by Sayvon’s hair as it glowed bright brown in the light that was just beginning to filter through the living room window.

  “Ah, I see,” Talister nodded, the smile returning to his face.

  “Talister and I go way back here in Lior,” said Mr. Sterling, who handed him a cup of coffee and kept one for himself. “We were talking about how to best introduce you to the Council—being new to Lior. We believe it would be best if you would go to an informal meeting with the Chancellor first. Talister has agreed to take you to see him, seeing as how he has a meeting already scheduled. Then later, we can present you to the Council when the time is right.”

  “And I could show you around the City Center afterward if you like,” Sayvon said suddenly, surprising her father and leaving a horrified look on Emma’s already sour face.

  “Sure,” he told them both, refusing to look at Emma. “What time do I need to be ready to go?”

  “My meeting is immediately following coffee hour. We will meet you out front then if you like,” Talister said.

  Coffee hour?

  “I’m sorry sir, but what time is that?”

  “Oh, dear lad, I apologize! We often forget that our human counterparts live by the clock. Although it’s not accurate to the minute, I would assume three o’clock would be about the time, where you come from.”

  “Uh, okay,” Sam said dumbly.

  “Good. Then after our meeting and your tour, you can be sure we will have you back before dinner!” Talister said happily.

  Once they had gone and he had gulped down a quick scrambled egg and blackberry muffin breakfast, Sam hurried upstairs to shower and get ready for his solo excursion. Mrs. Sterling had somehow washed his only two sets of clothes in the last day since they arrived, and they lay neatly on the small nightstand next to his bunk, along with two new pairs of Lior-type soft cotton pants and shirts, a white pair and a brown one. For his excursion today he decided he would try the brown outfit and his new red robe to go along with it.

  The outfit fit well, and he noticed right away it was designed for cooling and comfort. It was almost like wearing pajama pants and a nightshirt.

  Gus had lingered downstairs at breakfast a while, much to Sam’s frustration, to drink coffee and discuss the games that evening with Mr. Sterling and Cooley, so Sam couldn’t pin him down for some last-minute questions about how best to try Light manipulation, but with what information he had been told by Emma, it only required a bit of focus.

  He th
ought about waiting on Gus, but instead, decided to wing it and threw together a few items in his pack for the morning outside the City. He slipped in another shirt, a knife he had found in the kitchen, a few muffins from breakfast, and his canteen. He considered matches, but finding none, settled for the small device that Gus had left on his nightstand that he used to light the fire in the pavilion.

  Lillia appeared suddenly in the doorway, just as he was about to head downstairs, carrying an egg-shaped marbled blue stone in her hand.

  “Here,” she smirked and thrust the stone in his hand. “It was my grandma’s Eben stone. It has a concentrated amount of Lazuli in it, which helps with Light manipulation. Maybe it will help you ‘see’ the light.”

  “Are we supposed to be using these now?”

  “Nope,” she said with a smirk. “But it’s rare, and probably worth more than you are … so don’t lose it.”

  “Thanks. I won’t,” he told her, certain she was for once being kind in her own way.

  ***********************

  The cabin was silent when he left, which was what he had hoped. No one other than Emma, Gus, and Lillia knew he was going to the Cedars, and they had warned him to keep it that way. Part of him wished Emma were there to see him off, but she was nowhere in sight. No doubt she was still upset about Sayvon.

  Walking through Lior, Sam found the red hall street buzzing with shoppers in the small shops once again. He saw robes and hats, silver rings, dragon pins and statues, and countless trinkets—some that shined silver, and others that glowed red. Doughnuts were being rolled in sugar and bagged as quickly as they were made, and there were large pitchers of every type and color of tea one could imagine.

  He glanced down the green glowing street of the Themane region, where children were up early playing swords in the streets and flashing people with green lights they had strapped to their palms. Strange fruits and vegetables were being placed out on carts, and the strong scent of coffee wafted from nearly every block. It was different to see in the daylight, almost like a theme park that had just opened its doors to coaster-hungry patrons.

  On a thought, Sam stopped by a coffee vendor who was pouring steaming black liquid into a mug from a large pitcher.

  “It’ll make your hair stand on end today, boy,” he said, as the steam drifted up past his neatly-trimmed grey beard and into his colorful toboggan cap.

  Sam accepted the mug from the vendor and sipped gingerly. It was so strong it made him cough at first, but then he tasted the smoky roast of the coffee on his tongue. He tasted it again, allowing the sweet liquid to roll around in his mouth before swallowing. It was the best coffee he had ever had.

  “It’s all in the brewing process, boy. It must be perfect,” the short vendor smiled. “I brew the honey with the grounds—no other coffee brewer does that, you know. Coffee should be as strong as love and as sweet as honey.”

  Sam smirked and paid the vendor with coins made of Lazuli that Mrs. Sterling had given him, and made his way around the City Center to Main Street, past the bookstores and more vendors, and toward the City gate.

  The gate guards stood stone silent as he walked through the great gate and down the stone stairway, making no movement toward him, only staring ahead into the grey mist of the morning as it hovered low over the golden fields. Immediately he turned toward the coast upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, where a small faint trail could be seen hugging the City wall all the way to the shoreline.

  It was a cloudless day—warm near the shoreline, and only the soft breeze from the sea kept the sweat from building on his face. Every so often the trail disappeared and then reappeared, showing only spots of wear here and there in the tall grass, but per Gus’s instructions, he was confident he was on the right trail as the forest lay ahead and to the left of him.

  He followed the traces of the path until it split near the end of the City wall, veering left toward the forest, which now loomed largely in front of him like a distant rain cloud draped in patches of sunlight.

  After another few minutes of walking, he stopped to catch his breath for a moment, looking back to see how far he had come from the City. The wall had grown so small behind him that it nearly blended in with the horizon, and the City spires were now only gleaming white needles reaching into the sky.

  Suddenly he realized that he had a choice—if he wanted to make a run for it, he could. Not that he was a prisoner, but he wasn’t really an invited guest either.

  He could abandon them and head into the forest, following the same path they took to get here, if he could find it. He could figure out how to use the arch, then go back to White Pine to a grandfather he barely knew …

  It’s not worth it. He dismissed the thought as he picked up his backpack and found the trail toward the woods again. I need to know who I am, who my parents were … and I have no idea how to use the arch.

  Another fifteen minutes of walking brought him to the edge of the immense forest, which looked ominous even in the growing sunlight behind him. He wasn’t the type to give in to his fear, so he marched out of the clearing and into the forest floor.

  It wasn’t long before he came upon a set of flat rocks surrounding a small fire ring and a meager stack of firewood. It was a perfect spot, tucked behind a knoll on one side and a rock overhang on the other—obviously chosen as a spot that would be concealed. If he hadn’t followed the trail perfectly, he would have missed it entirely.

  Sam immediately got to work lighting a small fire, even though sweat still beaded his forehead. Emma had told him the flames would calm him and allow him to think. Judging by the sun’s position, he believed it was right around ten o’clock White Pine time. At Gus’s suggestion to better blend in, he had taken his watch off. It seemed as though everyone had clocks internally in Lior, although they didn’t seem to mind being late anyway. It was certainly different than the busy pace of Earth.

  It was cooler in the trees, and the fire warmed him. Carefully, he reached into his pocket he pulled out the Eben stone Lillia had given him and examined it. It was the color of a deep blue sky on a cloudless day, and smooth like a piece of glass. He ran his hands over its face, half expecting something to come to life as he touched it, but nothing happened.

  He sat down on one of the flat rocks and held the stone in his hand, still half-waiting for it to do something—perhaps send warm pulses of Light through him like at the arch in the cave when they first came to Lior, but nothing happened. Closing his eyes, he attempted to blank his mind like Emma had told him. As he had so many times before when his foster mother came home a little too drunk, he blocked out all of his senses—allowing in the sounds of the forest, the smell of pine and the ocean, the feeling of Emma holding his hand …

  He wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Suddenly, he was drifting off the rock and floating upward toward the forest canopy. Even with his eyes closed, he could see clearly as the blackness became a blue vision of his surroundings, allowing him to see even further through the trees than he could before. The sounds of the forest became almost deafening as he continued to float toward the treetops, with every creaking of the branches as they swayed in the breeze and the birds around him sounding as though they were right next to him.

  His vision became so amplified that he could see every crack in the rocks below him and the veins of the leaves many yards away from him in perfect detail. He could feel the wind as it brushed past him like the ripples of a stream, and his skin almost burned with an aching feeling of electricity.

  ***********************

  “Boy?” Sam heard suddenly from behind him, jerking him quickly back to reality. “Yor’ must be looking for the Ayet Sal?”

  “Uh … huh?” Sam was still in a blue stupor, wondering how he had gotten back to sitting on the rock.

  He turned to find a small old woman dressed in a torn, dirty red robe, with eyes that looked like foggy y
ellow glass and long curly snow white hair. She was carrying a small package under her arms and a walking stick that was ornately carved on the handle.

  “Ayet Sal, ther’ Valley of Death—yor’ looking for him aren’t yeh?” She spoke with a thick and informal accent. “I be’n told tha’ he’s lookin’ for yeh.” She stared off into the trees as she spoke, with no intention of looking at him.

  “No. I’m not looking for Yet Sa—whoever. I’m just here enjoying the outside,” he said, rubbing his arms from the burning sensation that still coursed through him.

  The old woman turned to Sam, but looked past him with her hollow distant eyes.

  “Sure boy, yor mig’ fight it but he will find yor no’ the less.”

  Sam looked at the sun and was surprised to see how high in the sky it was already. How could he have been there so long already? He needed to give himself plenty of time to get back to the City to meet up with Talister and Sayvon. Besides, the craziness that was coming out of the old hoot’s mouth was a little creepy. He would just politely excuse himself and be off.

  “He is waitin’, yeh can expect it! And he’ll tell yeh where ta find what you’re lookin’ for.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are and I don’t have any idea what you are talking about. My name is S—”

  “Samuel. I know yor’ name. Boy wit’ the shadows. Be careful, boy wit’ the shadows,” she turned without completing her sentence and began to hobble away.

  He was stunned. Watching her go, he stared open-mouthed at the old woman. What was she talking about? Ayet Sal? Boy with the Shadows? Could she know something about his past?

  He jumped up and hurried up behind her.

  “Lady, uh—ma’am! Excuse me!” he called to her, reaching out to grab at her tattered robe. “How did you know who—”

  The old woman spun around and glared directly into Sam’s eyes, her eyes blazing yellow and no longer foggy. She threw her hand into the air above her and a blue light shot from her other palm, hitting Sam squarely in the chest.