The Watcher Key (Descendants of Light Book 1)

by Troy Hooker

  “Harper, you have been silent regarding any Darkness related events. Would you care to defend this accusation?”

  While Sam was indeed surprised that Mr. Sterling would question Cooley first and not Sam’s accusations, he continued to do his best to remain emotionless.

  Talister was suddenly with them, his hands out in front of him, facing Cooley.

  “Out with it, Harper. We have suspected some foul doings for quite some time.”

  Mr. Sterling lifted his hands toward Cooley suddenly, following Talister’s lead, as though something about Cooley’s manner said he would not easily submit.

  “Fools. All of you,” he hissed, a slight hint of a black smoke-like substance beginning to encircle his body. “You think you are safe, protected by your precious Creator, but He will do nothing for you when the Dark One returns.”

  Suddenly Mr. Sterling put his hands down to his side, as if purposefully showing Cooley he was not a threat.

  “Jack, it’s too late, he’s gone too far,” Talister urged, but Mr. Sterling continued to show his desire for peace.

  “Harper,” Jack said quietly. “We can work through this. We have help waiting for you with the keepers.”

  “Jack,” Talister repeated, but his words were ignored.

  “We have been working on a rehabilitation program with the Tanniym that could—”

  “He’s too far, Jack,” Amos touched Mr. Sterling on the shoulder gently, refusing to take his eyes off of Harper Cooley.

  “Last chance, Harper,” Mr. Sterling said with emotion, but his words were met with empty hollow eyes.

  Cooley said nothing, but raised his hands suddenly, firing a blue-green bolt from his hands toward Talister, who, though surprised, blocked it at the last moment with a Light shield.

  Jack Sterling and Amos sprung into action, bolts firing from their palms, as Miss Karpatch flung a makeshift shield over the others in the middle of the fight. Cooley blocked both bolts easily, then threw his hands to his side, and a bright green light erupted around him, igniting him in a massive ball of fire. Then he was gone.

  ***********************

  “Put the council on alert!” Jack Sterling yelled back to Talister as he searched the scorched grass from where Cooley disappeared. A blue light shot from the sky where Talister stood, and he was suddenly gone. Panic surrounded the group as everyone tried to figure out what had just happened, but it was Sam’s grandfather, Amos, who was finally able to calm them down.

  “Please may I have your attention!” he bellowed, which caused everyone to pause from the chaos. “We must remain calm at this moment! Please! Thank you. I know you are surprised at the altercation with Mr. Cooley, but Jack, Talister and I have, in fact, been suspicious of Mr. Cooley for quite some time now. We have been unsure how to proceed until now, but thanks to my grandson, Samuel, we have all the proof we need to continue.” He paused while they gathered around him. “We will have much to do to sort this out, but after a bit of proper sleep, as I believe after the night we have had waiting for the lad, we will all need it.”

  As they all filtered out of the garden talking of the crazy confrontation with Cooley, Sam walked purposefully to his grandfather, determined to get answers.

  “You knew about my father, didn’t you?” he met Amos’s gaze, although he was nearly a foot shorter and not quite as broad. “And about me being connected to the Prophecy.”

  “For now, all I can tell you is that I have known who you truly were your entire life, but until now it was not necessary to tell you who I am.”

  Sam understood, and was not angry with him. No doubt he had a story to tell, much like Sam did, but now was not the time to tell it. This man had ruled a world full of celestial beings, and if he didn’t think it was wise to tell him more, then it was probably best for all.

  It was strange, being in his grandfather’s presence, when all Sam ever knew about him was from their time in White Pine. To Sam, he was Amos, simple man who lived in a small northern town in the woods—farmers, copper mills, and small-time merchants, just trying to make a life.

  He had kept so much from Sam, and yet Sam did not worry. He knew he was in good hands, and now for the first time since moving in with his grandfather, he trusted the man fully. And he respected him.

  His grandfather leaned in toward Sam, lowering his voice.

  “What he told you, you must keep absolutely silent, but do not delay. While you have friends and family here who believe in what you have been called to do, the Council is not yet willing to accept our path. The request you have been given is your decision to make, but if you decide to heed the request, then you will need to do so quickly.”

  “Thank you,” Sam told him.

  “Now go,” his grandfather seemed to choke up, suddenly overcome with emotion, which he attempted to hide. “We … all of us, believe in you.”

  Sam nodded and hugged his grandfather. He could wait a little longer to hear the whole story from him about his past. He had kept secret an incredible lie for so long, but he understood why. There was no way Sam would have ever believed it without seeing it for himself. And now, it was obvious he had some thinking to do.

  Upon returning to the circle of cabins, Sam and Amos were met with cheers from a packed living room, including two other families in the circle—Harben and Sommy Baswaller and their eight year-old son Gabriel, and old Rali Harrowroot and his wife Janna (both hard of hearing and both very eccentric).

  “’Bout time ya stop foolin’ around and join us, eh?” Rali slapped Sam on the back rather hard, earning a harsh scold from his wife.

  “Yes sir,” Sam said, knowing that after telling the Council something other than what really happened, he had to keep up the story.

  To the Council and everyone except his friends, Mr. Sterling, Talister, his grandfather, and the Chancellor, the story was that he arrived in Ayet Sal, produced a bolt to defend himself against a small group of lost Metim souls, and then returned on the back of the dragon.

  The Council accepted the story, but they were not ready to let Lior know the details of their concerns regarding the spread of the Darkness quite yet. They only admitted to the general public that Harper Cooley had been persuaded by the Darkness and had falsified some visions. Stories filtered in from everywhere about Sam and Cooley, and all of them different. Some said that Sam would become the one that would someday free Lior from the Darkness forever, while others said it was just another legend. Most still believed there was little threat with the Darkness at all, because there was none to see.

  With Cooley, some thought he was only a wayward Descendant who had decided the life of Light wasn’t for him, but others took on a more serious approach—that there were others just like him still hidden in the City. Some even believed Cooley was acting under the Dark One, Nasikh, himself.

  One thing was certain from the trip to Ayet Sal—Sam was now welcomed as a Descendant, though some still believed him to be the third prophet and thought he should be watched carefully.

  Later that day, the Chancellor himself, walked through the door of the cabin with his personal entourage of four other rather large-looking Protectors. He ignored all of the hushed surprises and walked directly to Sam, who set down his plate of biscuits to greet him. The Chancellor stuck out his fair-skinned hand to him, and the entire room grew silent as they watched the interaction.

  “Samuel, my dear boy, it is good to see you again,” he said, a large smile splashed across his face. “I think that all of us are a bit astounded at your accomplishments today—discovering your Descendant gift and aiding in the exposure of a danger to our City. And for that, I must say, we are most in your debt.”

  “Yes, uh, thank you. I am just happy the Creator told me what to do,” Sam fumbled for the right words.

  The Chancellor smiled and clasped his hand again, this time shaking Sam’s hand vigorously w
ith both hands.

  “Yes, yes, and I think we will need to keep an eye on that gift of yours as well,” he stopped, then raising his voice, turned to face the rest of the cabin. “And, you will all be happy to know that the Healer’s Office just sent word that Mr. Chivler is going to be just fine. He will still need a while to recoup, but I assure you he is in good spirits.”

  The words brought sighs of relief and cheers from around the cabin, including from Sam. While they weren’t close, he was still happy to know that the old bookseller was okay.

  At that news, Emma came out with a rather large stack of root cakes, coffee, and Jurana juice sent out by Mrs. Sterling from the kitchen. Before long, a heaping bowl of eggs, potato cakes, more homemade biscuits, and berry pancakes made their way to the table. Again, there was an abundance of food and friends, and it was long into the afternoon before everyone had overfilled their bellies and laughed at old Rali’s Metim-fight’n stories before the cabin was silent once again and the Chancellor had left.

  Talister walked through the door just after the Chancellor’s departure and immediately pulled Sam aside as the others called for another round of coffee at the table.

  “Samuel, my boy, I wonder if I could perhaps explain myself from the meeting yesterday afternoon.”

  “You don’t need to, sir.”

  Talister smiled.

  “I believe I must, I am afraid,” he breathed loudly. “The man you heard in the tower was from the territory held by the Dragons … a friend of sorts. At that time, Jack and I were concerned with Cooley and were hoping to send him to the Dragon Keepers to rehabilitate him.”

  Dragon Keepers aren’t too fond of politicians, Sam thought.

  “The Council is not the best at keeping secrets, so we had to keep our suspicions rather quiet, which meant that only someone who wasn’t closely watched by Cooley would have to be the one to go to the Old City. You are the first to be there since its fall.”

  Unbelievable.

  “Why hasn’t anyone gone?”

  Talister sighed.

  “The Office of Research never sent someone to the Old City to investigate in the years following the attack. Guess who was head researcher at the time?”

  “Cooley.”

  “We figured he found out about the Watcher Stone some time ago and had been making plans to go get it himself. We believe that is the reason the Darkness from the initial attack on the City was growing again. They were attempting to limit the Lazuli so it wouldn’t affect them.”

  “He didn’t stay with the research office, though. Why not?”

  “His goal in the Seer chamber was to make sure that no incidents surfaced that would give any hint to the City that the Darkness was growing.”

  “He’s been hiding this for awhile, hasn’t he?”

  “Quite right, my boy. Nasikh’s curse is, I am sure, very potent, but not perfect. Cooley was no doubt recruited to make sure it was foolproof, until you four came along.”

  “How did you figure out it was him?”

  Talister laughed.

  “It was the old inventor, Bogglenose. His invention, actually. It wasn’t abnormal to see Darkness alarms going off throughout the City when there are so many of us that travel about Lior, but it began to become clear that whenever one of us visited the Seer chamber, we would come back with trace amounts of Darkness.”

  Now the triggering of the Darkness alarm upon entering the Chancellor’s office made sense. Talister worked closely with the Seer chamber.

  “He’s also been working on some other methods to detect the Darkness.”

  “Eccentric, that man is, but brilliant. I think by the time we suspected Cooley, he was suspicious that something was amiss. But please do not think of all Descendants as—well—how do you say, crazy?”

  Sam chuckled as he remembered Boggle. He understood why Lillia liked him so much.

  “Mr. Calpher, do you think there are more like Cooley in Lior?”

  Suddenly Talister’s face crept into its typical grin, but Sam could tell instantly it was not out of smugness or egotism, but perhaps the slightest bit of fear.

  “Of course,” he grinned. “With the allure of the Promise of the Dark One’s return, many will be seeking out evil in order to earn his favor.”

  It was so strange to think that both sides—Light and Dark—waited for a Promise of their Lord’s return, both of very different paths, but each retaining a striking resemblance. Only cosmic fate could arrange something so ironic.

  “Mr. Calpher, what if I choose not to choose a side? To remain independent, free of allegiances …”

  “I think you should know this, being an intellectual.”

  “I can’t remain neutral, can I?” Sam lowered his head. He knew the answer before he even spoke the words.

  “By not choosing, you are choosing yourself. And like the rest of us, you are conflicted without a perfect Creator to make you truly free.”

  Finally, he understood. By choosing not to decide whether or not there was a God, Sam, like all the others on Earth who were undecided, was already making a choice to reject Him. There was only one other choice.

  “What will we do when the Dark One returns?”

  “The only thing we can—go to war and defend ourselves and humanity to our deaths.”

  “Thank you for the help Mr. Calpher.”

  “Dear boy, stop calling me that. I am family. Call me Uncle.”

  Sam nodded, but knew it would take time to see them all the same way Gus, Emma, and Lillia did. Sam never really had family that cared about emotional bonds. It was all so foreign.

  Talister slapped him on the back loudly.

  “Good! And now I probably don’t have to remind you that you need to keep our conversation between our little group … or I will have to turn you into dragon feces.”

  Sam laughed.

  “Of course I will.”

  ***********************

  After helping Mrs. Sterling with the dishes, Gus and Emma coaxed Sam out to their usual meeting spot around the fire pit in the pavilion, where Lillia was poking at a log that was spitting out a lazy flame.

  “Spill it, newb. We want to hear about your dad,” Lillia said, not taking her eyes off the fire.

  “Wait—what? How did you find out what happened in Ayet Sal?” Sam was surprised, having kept Nuriel a secret thus far.

  Emma punched him in the shoulder playfully.

  “Your grandfather told us.”

  “And Gus helped,” Lillia said quietly.

  Immediately Gus blushed.

  “I—uh just found in Julian’s journal that apparently after being snuck into Lior by none other than Chivler himself, Julian was also visited by a Watcher. It was all in code, but with a little effort—”

  “He was awesome,” Lillia said genuinely, making Gus blush once again.

  In a strange turn, Emma rolled her eyes at the flirting couple.

  “And now everyone is going to know tonight that you are formally to be known as a Descendant of Light.”

  “They’re going to announce it to everyone?”

  “At the closing ceremony,” Emma said with another punch to his shoulder. “You were found in Creation. It’s kind of a big deal, you know.”

  “Not many have been to Ayet Sal either,” Gus added.

  “Now spill it,” Lillia scooted closer, her eyes widening.

  Sam told them the whole story—about his father the Watcher, his instructions to open the Sha’ar gate, everything. He had considered attempting to keep it from them, but it would have been impossible. His father even knew that, having given him permission to tell his friends. Eventually they would know what he was doing, and they might not understand unless he explained it first. And he needed their help.

  In turn, Gus told them about Mr. Sterling and t
he PO’s suspicions about Cooley, and the Council’s response to the deception. The Council hadn’t fully embraced the idea that the Darkness could be in fact growing again, but at least their eyes were open.

  Emma stared at the fire while Lillia attempted to work through the details of Sam’s story out loud. Gus immediately began thumbing through the journal that Chivler had given to Sam while he listened.

  Gus stood suddenly as the others continued talking, a huge smile on his face.

  “I think I found it,” he said.

  “Found what?” Emma peered at him.

  “Sam’s story about his father the Watcher reminded me of something in the journal. Something Julian said to Chivler …”

  “Gus, what is it?” Emma smacked his knee to get his attention again.

  “Oh my,” he said quietly, looking around as if fearing eavesdroppers. “It’s the original gate, it has to be …”

  “Gus!” all three said in unison.

  “I know where the Sha’ar gate is.”

  ***********************

  “Sam, are you sure this is what’s best?” Emma began her pacing routine around the fire once again to calm her rising nerves. This time, by the expression of horror on her face, she was truly afraid of what Sam was considering.

  “No, I’m not,” he said quickly. “I have no idea what to think anymore. I’m just going to hope that it’s best.”

  “I believe … that is called faith,” Gus smiled and patted his shoulder. “But that is all we can do, right Emma?”

  She let out a frustrated sigh as she plopped back on the bench, glaring at Gus and his newfound trust. She said nothing, and once again it was the fact that her father, Talister, Miss Karpatch, and Amos had been involved from the beginning that caused her to believe what they were doing was right.

  Gus even suspected that the Chancellor knew the inner secrets of those who orchestrated the four friends’ journey to the Old City, and even of Sam’s true experience with Nuriel in Ayet Sal. It didn’t matter, however, because they all seemed to let Sam be the one to make the decision to go through with it, and he knew it. All of the people involved, regardless of their age or position in Lior, trusted him. And Sam believed the opening of the original gate was what they thought was necessary, even if it sounded as if all hell would break loose with it. It was, they believed, what the Creator would have them do.