by Jacob Whaler
“I don’t envy you, my friend.” Kent studies a cockroach crawling across the ceiling. “Sleep is my gift. I just had the most incredible dream.”
Jake looks up. “What was it about?”
“I think I met someone, but I’m not sure. All my memories of it are gone.”
“That tends to happen with dreams.”
“All I know is that it was wonderful while it lasted.” Kent eyelids drop down. “Whatever it was, I want to find it again.”
CHAPTER 78
As the sea of voices drains away and is replaced by darkness, the only thing Matt feels is pain coursing through his body. It feels like a multitude of worms are burrowing under his back and legs. They lift him up and carry him away.
His eyes shoot open.
Leo’s face stares down at him, a look of deep concern changing to sudden relief. “You’re awake. Good. I’ve been worried. You’ve been unconscious for a long time. I couldn’t get you to respond. I tried to join my Stone to yours, like we did before, but I couldn’t get it to work. Your mind was drifting away, and I couldn’t bring it back. But don’t worry. Now that you’re here, I’m going to heal you.”
A dozen saffron-robed priests with bald heads form a circle around Matt’s body. He sees the ceiling move past and realizes the priests are carrying him through the temple.
They gently place him on a soft mattress and move away out of sight.
“We’ve stopped the bleeding,” Leo says. “But you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
Matt tries to speak, but his mouth feels dry, like it’s full of sand. His lips move. The words get stuck in his throat. Coldness permeates his body in spite of the humid heat.
Then he sees Yarah, eyes red, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her tiny fingers reach down and caress his face.
Leo mumbles to her in Portuguese.
She looks down at Matt with a glint of hope in her eyes, sticks a finger in her mouth to suck on and moves back out of sight.
“Close your eyes and relax,” Leo says. “I’m going to start now.”
Matt lets his eyes fall shut and feels his Stone drop into his hand. His fingers instantly close around it like a trap.
“Maybe you can help.” Leo’s soft voice filters down. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll look for you on the other side.”
In spite of the difficulty breathing, Matt calms himself and goes into meditation mode. Trying to think only of his breath, his mind wanders back to the dreams of Jessica.
Had he actually seen her and talked to her? Or was it just his imagination, induced by shock and loss of blood after his battle with the monkey?
He tries to replay what Jessica said, but the memories have slipped away. All that remains in the wake of the dream is a profound sense of peace. His fears about her safety are replaced by calm. For now.
Other questions come to mind and mar the peace he feels.
How is it possible that a monkey is a Holder of a Stone? How will they ever persuade the monkey to join them? Does it even make sense to try? Where is Ryzaard?
The palms of Leo’s hands rest on Matt’s head.
Staring into the back of his eyelids, Matt waits for something to happen.
And then it does.
It starts with his head, just under Leo’s hands. From there, warmth flows through his body like a slow-moving river, wiping away the pain until it reaches his fingers and toes. The warmth brings a sense of calm in its wake. It grows until it becomes a wave of relaxation pulling him out into a sea of serenity. At first, he resists the pull and tries to stay alert enough to connect with Leo. But Leo never comes. So Matt surrenders to the serenity, letting go, moving far out to sea. He senses himself being gently pulled under.
No wonder people come to Leo to be healed. If this is what it feels like, the kid has an incredible gift.
Subtle changes take place in his body. The pain is gone. Balance is being restored. Never in his life has he been so relaxed and content. He opens himself completely to the currents around him and resists nothing. His fingers uncurl, and his hands drop down to his sides. No breathing. No heartbeat. His spine drifts into a gentle backward arch.
It might have lasted a minute or several hours.
At some point, he becomes aware that his body is moving upward, floating back to the surface. Once he breaks through, he remains there, refreshed and energized, gazing up into darkness.
But it isn’t completely dark.
A bright sphere hangs in the sky above him. It has no marks except for a single black dot. As Matt stares at it out of curiosity, it comes into sharper focus.
He sees what it is.
A lone man floating in a spread eagle position, suspended in space in front of a blazing sun.
CHAPTER 79
“The Shinawatra Monastery?” Ryzaard leans back in his chair and looks out at the early dawn sky. “Are you sure?”
Diego looks like he hasn’t slept much in a week. “The new location algorithm has a granular resolution of approximately ten meters when fully deployed. There’s no question. Two of the Stones are there, inside the main temple right now.”
“And what about the third one?”
“It was inside the temple until twenty minutes ago. Then it suddenly disappeared.”
Ryzaard looks at the tiny holo screen above his jax. “How can it just disappear?”
“My guess is that its Holder moved out of the temple and off the grounds, maybe into the jungle.” Diego wipes his forehead with one hand. “But I doubt it’s gone far unless it suddenly hitched a ride on a transport. It’s probably just—”
“I’m not interested in guesses.” Ryzaard stares intently at the holo, trying to distinguish Diego’s eyes. “Nothing short of absolute certainty will do. Do you understand?”
“Of course. I just meant that—”
Ryzaard waves his hand. “Continue tracking the Stones, all three of them. Send updates every five minutes to Alexa. I want exact locations. GPS coordinates.”
“Got it,” Diego says.
Alexa stands a few feet away and glares at Ryzaard.
He lets a smile crack across his face. “You’re doing an incredible job, Diego. Nothing short of miraculous.” The smile abruptly disappears. “But remember, we’ve got to know the locations of these Stones at all times. Nothing else matters right now. We can’t let the opportunity slip through our fingers.”
“Understood,” Diego says.
The holo screen goes blank.
“The troops need encouragement once in a while,” Alexa says.
Ryzaard leans back in his chair and stares out the window of the transport. “I am sure you are aware that excessive praise cultivates laziness.”
Alexa shakes her head. “You can be alienating at times.”
“I have a lonely job.”
“Shall I call for an assault team to take the monastery?” Alexa swirls champagne in a glass. “We can have them here and ready to go in less than three hours.”
“Absolutely not,” Ryzaard says. “This is an extremely delicate situation. It requires a delicate approach. Leave the monastery alone for now. But having an assault team in Thailand and ready to deploy is not a bad idea. Make sure the Null Box is on one of the assault ships. I may have need for it on a moment’s notice.” He strokes his goatee with a finger. “What do you know about the head monk of the monastery?”
Alexa grins. “Jing-wei is preparing a full dossier on both the monastery and the head monk right now. We should have it shortly.”
“Good,” Ryzaard says. “I’m going to pay him a friendly visit.”
CHAPTER 80
When Matt opens his eyes and looks up, Leo is kneeling on one side and Yarah on the other. Monks sit around them in a circle, all eyes upon Matt.
“How do you feel?” Leo says.
“It was the most amazing experience.” Matt reaches up to Leo’s shoulder. “You’re incredible.”
“But you helped.”
“What do you mean?” Matt
says. “I was just relaxing the whole time. Floating in a sea of bliss.”
Leo shakes his head. “This was the easiest, fastest, smoothest healing ever. Something outside me pulled me along. I thought it was you and your Stone. I’ve done a lot of healing on my own. This time around, I wasn’t alone.”
Matt sits up and looks his cuts and bruises, but no trace remains.
Then he is tackled by an exuberant Yarah. He ruffles her hair and stands on his feet.
Someone clears their throat behind him.
Matt turns. The old monk sits on his meditation platform three meters away, moving his eyes between Leo and Matt. He mumbles in a language Matt doesn’t understand. All the other monks stand, assemble behind the old monk and bow to Matt and Leo. Then they exit out the long hallway, leaving Matt, Leo, Yarah and the young monk that brought them to the monastery standing in front of the old man.
He motions for them to sit.
Pointing at the large holes in the walls to the left and right, he speaks a few words in Thai and waves the young monk closer to sit at his side.
After sitting, the young man faces the three visitors. “The head monk has asked me to be his voice and yours. Please look at him and ignore me as if I were not here. Speak freely and withhold nothing. I will translate.”
The older monk focuses his eyes on Matt and speaks slowly and carefully, his words translated by the younger monk.
“You have seen the Monkey.”
Matt nods but says nothing.
“Only one who possesses a holy Stone is blessed to see the Monkey and live.” The old monk’s lowers his gaze to rest on the object in Matt’s hand. After a long pause, he shifts his gaze to the right and stares at Leo’s Stone.
Neither of them make any effort to conceal what they hold.
“Like a phantom, the beast moves through the temple, unseen, unheard, coming and going as it pleases.” The old monk points at the broken walls. “All it leaves are tokens and reminders of its presence, in the walls and in our flesh.” He turns and lowers his robe.
A jagged scar runs diagonally from high on his right shoulder across his back down to his left hip.
Leo leans forward. “I can heal you.”
The old monk nods. “I have seen your work and yearn to partake of the blessing you offer. But if my scars were healed, the Monkey would only strike again. All of us are marked in this way. We must be grateful the Monkey allows us to live. Many are not so lucky.” The old monk turns to the young monk at his side and nods.
The young monk lets his robe sag down to reveal an identical mark on his back.
“It happens often. Monks disappear, leaving behind only a torn robe.” The old man bows his head. “Always, we live with fear of this monster.”
Matt looks up at the young monk and quickly brings his eyes back to focus on the old man. “We can rid you of this menace.”
“We have waited patiently for help for many years.” The old monk reaches behind him for a scroll. “The beast with his Stone grows more violent and hungry each day.” He unrolls the scroll and places it on the floor between them.
It’s an image of the Monkey, drawn on rice paper in black and grey lines. Matt recognizes the white scar running across its forehead and down one side where it terminates in a missing ear.
The old monk nods gravely and leans forward. “I, too, have seen the beast.” His eyes mist, and he stares up at the ceiling.
After a long silence, Matt shifts his weight. “Please tell us.”
The old monk’s eyes drop down. “It was many years ago when I was a child, not much older than the little princess.” He points a finger at Yarah and smiles warmly.
She laughs and pulls Leo’s neck to whisper loudly in his ear.
Leo leans over and speaks to Matt. “She wants your jax so she can understand what the monk is saying.” He looks at Matt and raises his eyebrows as if to ask what he should do.
Matt takes out his jax and brushes his finger down one side. “This device will allow the little girl to hear in her own language.” He hands it to her.
She presses it against her ear.
The old monk laughs. “I have a jax myself, but prefer to use a human translator.” His face grows serious. “A few days after my mother brought me to this temple as a young boy, just after I received the robes, we were standing together in a field outside the courtyard when the beast came. I was a child and knew nothing of him.” A bead of water forms at the corner of his eye and slides down the old monk’s cheek, leaving a glistening trail.
A full minute goes by as he sits in silence and stares out the window at the early dawn light.
“Together my mother and I admired the sunflowers. An entire field of them. My mother showed me an especially large one. She told me I would grow tall and strong at the temple, like the flower. I cried and begged her not to leave me.”
As the old monk speaks of his mother, Matt feels a premonition of where the story is going. He thinks of his mom and has a sudden urge to put his hands over his ears, but fights it back.
The monk pulls his focus from the window back to Matt. “One minute I was looking up at my mother. Beautiful, young, strong. It was the last time I saw her alive.” His eyes squint shut. “The next minute, the sunflowers were leveled around me, cut down in a wide circle, leaving me in the center, the robe torn from my body, the mark of the beast inscribed upon my back.”
The room resounds with silence. The low hum of insects seeps in through an open window. Incense wafts up from a lower level through the floor boards.
Leo shifts his weight and stares at the old monk. “What about your mother?”
“My mother?” The old monk drops his gaze to the floor and rubs his palms together in a circular motion. “She was at my feet, her throat slashed, reduced to a mound of torn and bleeding flesh. The beast—”
He pauses and turns his head as the screeching of monkeys comes in through the window.
“The beast stood a few feet away staring at me, its hot breath burning my face. I will never forget its expression. Blind hatred mixed with pain. Its great hand cocked back, ready to spring forward and end my life. I could see it was fighting the urge to kill me. Then it vanished. I walked back to the temple and drew this picture. Over eighty years ago.”
He picks up the scroll.
Matt stares at it. “The creature looks the same, but has grown weak and sick.”
The old monk nods. “I have sensed that its days are numbered. Perhaps it knows that as well.”
“We will rid you of this creature and use the Stone for its intended purpose,” Matt says.
The old monk takes in long breath. “We have been waiting for many years.”
“Can you tell us anything about the Monkey?” Matt inches his body forward. “Something that will help us find it and put an end to this madness.”
Without taking his eyes off Matt, the old monk whispers to his young translator.
They both stand up. The young man lifts the top of the low platform on which they are sitting. The old monk reaches into the interior and takes out another scroll, its paper tattered and yellow with age. The young man replaces the lid, and they sit back down.
The scroll opens in the old monk’s hands. He begins to speak.
“Many years ago, these writings were discovered hidden in the temple. They tell the story of how the Monkey got the Stone. You may find it to be useful knowledge.”
Matt begins to rise to his feet. “May we see the writings?”
The old monk laughs. “Be patient my friend. They would do you little good since they are written in an ancient script that only a few of us can read.”
Matt sits back down.
“Over four hundred years ago, the king fell ill. He called his sons together so he could give the kingdom to the oldest. Only then did the king reveal the Stone. He commanded his son to take it up when he died.” The monk laughs again. “Can you guess what happened?”
Matt glances at Leo. They both
shrug their shoulders.
The old monk clears his throat. “At the moment the king died, just as the son moved forward to put his hand on the Stone—”
Leo stands up on his knees. “A monkey took it?”
“Yes!” The old monk laughs so hard that he is overcome by a coughing fit.
Yarah jumps to her feet and claps her hands.
They all wait patiently for the old monk to settle down.
He takes a drink of water. “A small monkey burst through the open door, jumped over the son, pulled the Stone from the king’s dead hands and sprinted away. Everyone in the room witnessed it.” The old monk laughs again. “Thousands of monkeys were slaughtered. They searched the countryside for years, but never found it. They set traps for it. Nothing worked. It remained hidden for hundreds of years until the day I saw it. It has come back to me several times over the years, always leaving some token as evidence of its presence. I think it feels sorry for killing my mother.”
The old monk pauses, visibly tired.
“How can we get the Stone?” Matt says. “Does the scroll say anything?”
The old monk looks down at the yellow paper in his hand. “According to the ancient record, when the monkey took the Stone, it dropped something, a small object, from its hand. It was wrapped inside this scroll when it was found. Both were given to me many years ago.” He looks up at Matt, waiting for him to speak.
Matt’s pulse quickens. “Tell me more of this object that was wrapped in the scroll.”
“The beast has come to me many times since our first meeting in the field of sunflowers. For a long time, it came every few years. Now it comes more often, every few weeks. It is anxious. It tries to communicate with me. I know what it wants.”
“What does it want?” Matt says.
“The beast senses that death is near. It is searching for the object it dropped so many years ago so it can die in peace. It will gladly give up the Stone for that object and for nothing else.” The monk drops the scroll down.
Matt’s eyes follow the scroll, and he catches a glimpse of a hand-drawn picture. It might be a small stone carving of an animal, perhaps a monkey, but he isn’t sure. It reminds him of the tiki carvings he saw in a Mexican flea market as a child. He looks up to see the old monk staring at him.
