Hunter Brown and the Eye of Ends

by Chris Miller

  “But there are only twenty-six letters,” Trista said hesitantly.

  “Right, so twenty-six will bring us back to the same letter and then we continue forward to thirty-one which would be….”

  “Five,” Trista said with a smirk. “Isn’t that what I said to start with?”

  I was dumbfounded. Double checking the math, I found that she was indeed right. The number was five.

  “Yeah, I guess this was a bad example,” I said sheepishly.

  “You think? Can we just decode the message already?”

  I nodded eagerly. Clearing the sand slate, we wrote out the letters from the message in the Writ. Below each letter, we wrote the character that came five letters after it.

  R N W W T W W N R

  W S B B Y R B S W

  “Wow,” Trista said sarcastically. She was clearly unimpressed with my code-breaking skills. “That’s impressive. It makes a whole lot of sense now.”

  I tried to ignore her and kept to the task at hand.

  “I don’t get it,” I said, holding my chin in thought. Where had I gone wrong? I thought for sure I was on to something but maybe I was simply wanting to find something where there wasn’t anything to be found.

  “Don’t feel too bad, Hunter. Maybe it’s just gibberish after all,” Trista decided.

  “Or,” I said, suddenly realizing my mistake, “I solved it backward. Instead of shifting our letters forward five letters, let’s go the other way.”

  Brushing away the bottom row of letters, I rewrote them in place beneath the original message. This time it worked. We had words.

  R N W W T W W N R

  M I R R O R R I M

  “Okay, I’m actually impressed this time, Hunter,” Trista said.

  We stared at the phrase for a moment. I was proud of my work. Cracking a code felt like a major accomplishment every time.

  “Mirror Rim, huh?” Trista said. “But what does it mean?”

  “I have no idea,” I said, staring blankly at the words.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Trista answered.

  “Depends on what you’re thinking,” I answered, wondering if she had already read my mind.

  “Do you think this book could have belonged to your father?”

  “It’s possible,” I answered, “and it makes sense too. Whoever left this for us must have found it while searching for him. Maybe they intended for us to decode the messages in it for them.”

  Then Trista had a terrible thought. “Or maybe they are using the book to throw us off track.”

  Both options were equally possible. We didn’t know enough yet to figure out which was true.

  “You said your father had another message like this in his drawings,” Trista said. “Can you pull them up on that bracelet Desi gave you?”

  “It’s a Symbio,” I said, correcting her and spinning the device around my wrist, freeing some of the white sand that had lodged itself between the Symbio and my arm.

  “Well whatever it is, let’s see if it can help us,” Trista said.

  I looked at the Symbio device and wondered if it would still work here in Solandria…assuming we were in Solandria. Trista’s cell phone didn’t work the last time we visited, but it had still powered up. The Symbio screen flashed on but there wasn’t any service. I slid my fingers across the smooth surface of the screen, which flickered a bit before it lit faintly.

  “Well, it’s not working perfectly, but I’m in!” I said excitedly. Trista leaned in close beside me as I searched for the folder Desi had shown me on the device. In no time at all I pulled up the image my father had drawn with the cryptic jumble of letters.

  NS LNWZR

  NRZX STHYJJY HTSXZRNRZW

  NLSN

  “Do you think the same shift would apply to this one?” Trista asked.

  “It’s worth a shot,” I said, clearing the sand once more. “You work from the end of the message and I’ll work from the start. That way, we’ll finish twice as fast.”

  Trista agreed and set to work on her half of the mysterious message, whispering each letter as she replaced it. Oddly enough, every letter she wrote was the same as mine.

  IN GIRUM

  IMUS NOCTEET CONSUMIMURIGNI

  “That’s so weird,” I gasped.

  “What?” Trista wondered, looking at the jumble of letters.

  “Well, I just noticed that the letters are the same backwards as they are forwards. The whole sentence would read the same both ways.”

  “Really?” Trista gawked.

  “Yes, I only noticed it because you were whispering each letter as I was writing the same one.”

  “It’s too bad the message doesn’t mean anything,” Trista noted. “It feels like we’re close. Maybe it’s another language?”

  I agreed, but if it were another language it was unlike any I had ever known. My stomach started to growl. It was time we started focusing on the more important things. We both were hungry, thirsty and tired. If we didn’t find some kind of help soon, it wouldn’t matter if we solved all the riddles in the world. We’d be dead.

  It was midday in Solandria, in the middle of nowhere, but it felt like the middle of the night by Destiny’s measure. We needed rest, and it was no good venturing out during the daylight. The heat would only wear us out quicker. Having discussed our options, we decided to sleep until nightfall and scavenge for food during the cooler evening hours.

  The cave floor wasn’t comfortable, it was hardly even bearable, but it was far better than the blistering heat that awaited us outside. With nothing else to do, I glanced through the drawings on the Symbio device. The last image I studied was the one of my father, cowering in the corner beneath the shadow of a knife.

  I had hope my father was still alive—but for how long? If he had seen this vision in the Eye of Ends, it would be only a matter of time before the shadow in the picture found him. The question still remained; could the picture be changed? Was the Eye’s vision of the future able to be altered or was it written in stone?

  With this terrible thought, I finally drifted to sleep, in the middle of nowhere.

  Chapter 16

  Night Life

  Iawoke peacefully to see a sky, twinkling with diamond-like stars, just outside the cave entrance. The moon was set high in the sky, full and brighter than I had ever known. The white sand of the desert sparkled in the moonlight and was now flowering with bright neon plants that must have been buried beneath the sand during the day. By night, the wasteland had become a wonderland, seeming more like the sandy floor of an underwater crystal lagoon than the desolate place we had known during the day. The night air was comfortable and cool, but not the least bit cold.

  The night would be perfect for traveling, with one exception—the sounds. The sounds of the night creatures were many and frightening. A chorus of long haunting moans, growls and squeals carried on the wind like an eerie song. First one voice, then another joined in the unfamiliar tune. The voices seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, though I suspected it was just a trick of the night.

  Trista lay beside me, still soundly asleep. I brushed the hair from her face, tucking it neatly behind her ear. She looked so peaceful in the moonlight, angelic even. I hated to wake her, but we had to get going. I had just talked myself into letting her sleep five more minutes, when I heard a sound in the back of the cave. The sound was followed by a shuffling movement. We were not alone.

  Crumple, crumple.

  “Trista,” I whispered, poking her in the side. “Get up.”

  She moaned and started to stir, stretching and yawning before cracking one eyelid open beneath her furrowed brow. “What is it?”

  “Something’s there, at the back of the cave,” I said, pointing toward where the sounds had come from.

  Crumple, crumple.


  She heard it too. Rustling sounds. The kind of sounds that made your imagination run wild. Trista didn’t need to be told twice. She shot up in an instant and scooted safely behind me. If it were a fearsome creature, I would be her human shield. After all, there was no use in a girl being eaten before a boy. It went against the order of nature—an ancient pecking order set in place by the Author himself.

  Part of me liked being her protector, but another part deep inside desperately hoped it didn’t come to that. The rustling sounds stopped momentarily. The creature had sensed our movement. I grabbed my sword and brought the blade to light.

  “Grab your bow and let’s get out of here,” I whispered to Trista out of the corner of my mouth. Trista nodded nervously and managed somehow to reach across the cave without leaving the safety of my shield.

  “My backpack! Where’s my backpack?” I asked, glancing nervously around. Trista didn’t know either. My father’s Writ was still lying out in the open, but my backpack, which I left beside it, was gone. All of a sudden, something flew out of the blackness of the cave straight at us. Swinging my sword in defense, I nearly sliced my own backpack to pieces before it landed at my feet.

  “Who goes there?” I demanded, pointing my sword in the direction from which my pack had been thrown. “Come out and show yourself!”

  “Boojum, friends?” came a weak squeaky voice, followed by a pair of gleaming blue eyes. The furry grey creature waddled out from the darkness, dragging his long tail behind him.

  “Boojum!” Trista squealed with delight. No longer needing me for protection, Trista clamored across the cave to where Boojum sat and picked him up in a big hug. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought I spotted a smile of relief on the little runt’s face.

  “What are you doing way out here?” Trista asked him.

  “Special jobs,” Boojum answered. “Boojum help.”

  “Help who?” I asked, wondering what mischief he might be up to now.

  “Helping an old friend find you two,” a girl’s voice, warm and familiar, answered the question from over the ledge behind us. My heart leaped at the sound—spinning around to face the mouth of the cave, I caught sight of a girl hoisting herself over the ledge of the cliff. She was dressed in a loose white poncho and tan leggings, the lower part of her face wrapped behind a white shawl meant to block the sun and sand. Her chocolate brown eyes were all I could see, but it was all I needed. I knew in an instant it was Hope. She wasn’t a flame, she wasn’t a vision…this time she was real, and every bit as beautiful as I remembered her, perhaps even more so.

  Without wasting another moment, I threw my arms around her in a warm embrace—one I had waited far too long to give. Tears welled up in my eyes, and for once I didn’t mind one bit. There was no need to act tough with Hope. She and I had been through far too much together to hide my true emotions.

  When at last we broke the embrace, I wiped my eyes and introduced Trista for the first time.

  “Hope, I want you to meet Trista,” I gestured toward her.

  Trista and Hope shook hands in a warm greeting.

  “I remember you,” Hope said. “You came with Hunter—with the Flame, right?”

  Trista nodded, continuing to scratch Boojum on the head. He leaned into it, enjoying the attention so much he nearly fell out of her hands when she pulled away.

  “If I’m not mistaken, we have something in common,” Hope said, revealing the mark of the Flame on her collar bone. Trista showed her mark in return. “That makes us practically sisters then. Maybe between the two of us, we can keep Hunter in line.”

  Trista smiled. I could tell the two of them were going to hit it off just fine. Trista eyed me knowingly and I wondered if she understood what I was thinking.

  “I still can’t believe you’re really here!” I said excitedly. “How did you find us?”

  Hope pointed to Boojum. “That was his job. Snarks have a knack for finding their way back to their owners. It’s like a sixth sense.”

  “I see,” I said, wondering if it meant I’d have to keep the little bugger again. Last time, things really hadn’t worked out so well.

  “Don’t worry,” Hope explained. “He’s been given a specific job to do and then he’ll be heading back home to his family. Right, Boojum?”

  “Yes, Boojum papa,” he explained.

  “Awww,” Trista fawned over the little guy. “Baby Boojums, how cute is that?”

  I shuddered at the thought. Keeping track of one snark was hard enough, let alone a whole litter of the little deviants. Still, I was happy for Boojum. He had been a good friend and had helped me out of some tight jams before.

  Trista and I were both thrilled to learn that Hope had not come empty-handed. She had brought water and food as well. Her canteen was filled with the coolest, most refreshing water I had ever tasted. And the simple meal of fruits and nuts was more than enough to satisfy my groaning stomach. With spirits revived, we set to the task of finding our way to safety.

  “We’re on the Shard of Noc. Though one of the most desolate shards in Solandria, it has its beauty as well. Do you see those lights over there?” Hope asked. I nodded, feeling surprised that I hadn’t noticed them before. The horizon to the north was aglow with a peculiar teal light, shooting up into the sky. “That’s where the Noctu live and it’s where we are heading. They’re a very vibrant tribe, but a bit…unpredictable. Just keep in mind, the desert may look beautiful at night, but it is a dangerous beauty. Keep your guard up.”

  “So, you’re coming with us, then?” I asked hopefully.

  “Well, you didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?” Hope said in return. “Besides, I’ve seen how you fight. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

  Trista stifled a chuckle at my expense.

  “Ouch!” I said. “Looks like the desert isn’t the only dangerous beauty I should watch out for tonight.”

  “Dangerous beauty, huh?” Trista said, rolling her eyes at my comeback. “Is that the best you can come up with?”

  “What? I thought it was good. You know the whole play-on-words thing. It was good, right?” I tried to defend myself, but the girls were already heading down the hillside together. Trista waved back without looking. I gathered the remainder of my things, shoved them into my backpack and ventured out of the cave into the wild of the night, following the two giggling girls ahead of me. Already I could tell it was going to be a long trip.

  Trista offered to return Hope’s bow, but Hope insisted that she keep it as her own. From that moment forward they were practically inseparable. They were becoming the best of friends.

  I followed behind, kicking up sand and marching across the desert, surrounded by the most gorgeous and enormous plant life I had ever seen. The leaves of many of the flowers were larger than I was. The blooms spiraled up in the most intricate designs. The colors of the flowers ranged from indigo blues to neon green and everything in between.

  As we walked, Hope caught us up on everything that had happened over the several months we were away from Solandria.

  Word of the Seven being marked spread like wildfire throughout the Resistance; when Hope returned, so too did the spirits of the Codebearers. Nobody yet knew who had become the seventh one marked. New recruits joined the Resistance every day in such great number it was hard for the instructors to keep up with the training. Sam especially had his hands full.

  The biggest challenge now was to maintain unity among the Resistance. That was one of the reasons Hope had been sent to Noc, to strengthen the Noctus’ allegiance by healing one of their own.

  “So, how will you know who to heal?” I asked.

  “I don’t know yet,” Hope replied. “But I was told by Aviad it would be clear to me and Boojum when we arrived.”

  “Boojum? He’s going to help?”

  “He has a role, yes. So, what ab
out you? I was told I would find you but I don’t know why you are here.”

  I explained about the Watcher, about my father and my missing family. Hope listened intently, but didn’t say much.

  “Just remember,” she said, “rescuing your father may not go exactly as you plan it. But if you trust the Author, things will end up right.”

  I knew fully what she meant. I would never have chosen the path my adventures had taken. Never in a million years would I have expected that letting Hope die could have brought me closer to her. Looking back now, it was almost the best thing that happened to me. I had learned and grown so much since then…but I still had a long way to go. Even so, I couldn’t help but believe that rescuing my father would go better.

  Eventually, our conversation gave way to a mutual silence. We traveled together across the powdery sands toward the distant lights, unaware that we were being watched by the very sand we walked on.

  Trista was the first to notice the eyes popping up from the ground periodically. They were bulbous eyes, glossy and yellow, attached to the tips of thin tendrils, which rose up and sank back into the ground with a puff of sand. The appearance of the eyes became more frequent over time and seemed to move on all sides of us. We picked up the pace in an attempt to lose the thing.

  “Krauk,” the sand thing said in a deep guttural tone.

  Boojum scurried up Trista’s leg and onto her shoulder, shivering.

  “What is that thing?” a frightened Trista asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Hope replied.

  “Well, it’s freaking me out.”

  The googly eyes reappeared not twenty feet from where we stood. This time the eyes raised and lowered more slowly: first the left, then the right eye. Each yellow orb moved independently of the other. In a flash, they disappeared again. There was a rustling underground and the eyes emerged from the sand near our left side.

  “Krauk!” it repeated.

  Fwooosh!

  Annoyed, Trista had fired an arrow at the creature, which sank back into the sand before it was hit.