Haven: Revenge of the Viper

by D. C. Akers

  “Tr … Travis …” Demetrius stammered, shaking his head slowly. He seemed shocked to see the boy sprawled out on the floor like that. The emerald glow from Hollister made Travis’s face look like he was about to puke.

  “I’m good, I’m … okay,” Travis groaned, as he tried to stand up. “No problem here.” But he wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not Demetrius, who helped Travis to his feet. When Travis could finally stand on his own, he found Demetrius staring at him like he was one fry short of a happy meal.

  “What?” Travis shrugged.

  Demetrius frowned at Sam, hoping for some explanation for his friend’s strange behavior, but Sam had nothing and shrugged. He walked over to his closet, reached in and found his backpack from school. When he turned back around he found Travis staring up at Demetrius, who was scowling and sniffing the air.

  “I smell … pine and,” he took in another deep breath, “juniper, I think.”

  For a minute Sam had no idea what on Earth Demetrius was talking about but then he smelled it too and suddenly it all came back to him.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s called Mountain Mist,” he said.

  “Mountain Mist,” Demetrius repeated, nodding in approval. “I like it.”

  “Yeah, not bad,” Sam replied. “It smells better than it did before, take my word for it.”

  “Yeah, take his word for it,” Travis said, nodding in agreement. He picked up a book that was lying on top of Sam’s dresser and started flipping through it.

  Demetrius gazed at Sam’s dragon posters. He looked carefully, taking in every variety of dragon that Sam had displayed on his wall.

  “Impressive collection,” he said.

  Sam stuffed in a few shirts and a hoodie into his backpack and looked up at Demetrius.

  “Yeah, I like them. My dad was a big fan of them too, or at least that’s what my mother said.” Demetrius glanced at Sam from the corner of his eye when he mentioned his father, but Sam turned to admire his collection.

  It bothered him that he didn’t know that little fact about his father firsthand and he tried to conceal this from Demetrius, but he felt he was doing a poor job. Sam moved to his dresser, putting a few pairs of jeans and some underwear into the backpack.

  Demetrius looked back to the wall and trailed his hand softly over one of the posters, as if he was reliving some sort of distant memory. “Yes, Rylan was a big fan of dragons. This was his favorite, you know, the Romanian Diamondback. Rare breed.”

  Sam looked up at the poster and a smile crept to the corners of his mouth. It felt good to have something in common with his father, even if he never knew him. That one small connection made his father seem real, and that meant more to Sam than anyone could possibly imagine.

  Demetrius reached up and removed the poster from the wall and held it out to Sam. Sam reached for the poster but he hesitated, pulling his hand back instead. He searched Demetrius’s face, unsure of what to do.

  “You should take this,” Demetrius said, holding the picture. He stared down at the poster and Sam could not help but notice how sad he looked.

  “Life is made of many bonds, not all of which can be seen. This is a bond between you and your father,” he said, pursing his lips and handing Sam the picture. “Rylan would have liked that.”

  Sam felt a sudden warmth radiate throughout his body. He liked that maybe he and his father did have some kind of bond, even if he was no longer alive. He took the poster and placed it neatly into his backpack. Then he turned and grabbed the Christmas picture of Sarah, his mother, and him to put in his bag as well.

  He remembered how he had begged his mother to stay home that day, telling her that family Christmas pictures were lame, and that taking them at PhotoSmart inside Wal-Mart was even worse, to which Sarah added that he was already lame and it wouldn’t matter. Now, as he looked at his Mom and Sarah in their ridiculous short haircuts it made him smile. He missed them even more now, and he didn’t even mind looking at himself in that ridiculous blue and white snowman sweater.

  Sam stared at the picture, lost in the details of that day when Travis said, “I guess I should get home and get my stuff too.” His words broke Sam’s concentration. With everything that had happened, he hadn’t given any thought, really, to Travis joining him on his journey to Haven. Or that after tonight Sam might never see him again.

  Travis still had family here, not to mention that their journey would be dangerous, so dangerous that they might not survive. As much as Sam wanted Travis to go, there was no way he could ask him to do that for him. What if Travis got injured, or, even worse, if he died? Sam knew he could not live with that. He looked over at Travis, who was thumbing through the pages of the book he’d picked up.

  “Is this Pirate book any good? The girl on the cover kind of looks like Sarah.”

  “Trav, what are you talking about?” Sam asked.

  Travis held up the book, waving it in his hand.

  “Any good?”

  “No, Trav, about going?”

  Demetrius watched patiently, glancing back and forth between Sam and Travis. Travis placed the book back on the dresser and looked back at Sam.

  “I’m saying I need to get some stuff too, dude. I can’t wear these clothes—they have Viper guts on them,” he said, looking at Sam as if he were the clueless one.

  “But Trav,” Sam said with a look of concern, “you can’t go.”

  Travis winced as if the words stung him. “What?” he asked, wiping his hair out of his eyes so he could look at Sam clearly. “What do you mean?”

  “Trav, I’m not coming back. I have nothing to come back to,” Sam said. “My parents are dead, my sister is dying, and I’m about to take some journey that I might not survive. Besides, you can’t leave your grandparents. Who would take care of them?”

  Travis jerked his head back slightly, frowned, and moved away from the dresser to stand in front of Sam. “Wait, are you saying that I can’t go with you?” Now Demetrius was looking at Travis with his eyebrows raised.

  “Um …” Sam hesitated, “no, I’m saying you shouldn’t come.”

  Travis’s eyes grew wide. “Shouldn’t?”

  “Travis, what about you grandparents?” Sam asked, throwing his hands in the air.

  Travis’s body stiffened; he looked frustrated. “I … I don’t know, I could call my Uncle Keven. He could watch them.”

  “But Travis,” Sam said, shaking his head. “I’m not coming back. You would never see them again.”

  Travis looked down at his feet, “I know.”

  Sam moved closer to him. “Do you? Listen to yourself! You are talking about leaving forever. What would you even tell them?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know!” Travis’s voice was louder now. “Something,” he said and began pacing around the room.

  “Something,” Sam said. “Come on, Travis, are you really going to leave your family?”

  Travis turned and rounded on Sam. “You’re my family too!” he shouted. His face was red and screwed up with anger. “Don’t you get it?” He waved his hand in frustration. “You guys have been the family I never had. Geez, Sam, I thought you understood that.”

  Sam felt like he had been punched in the chest. Travis never raised his voice. He had always been so passive, but now he was really angry.

  “Travis … I—”

  “Sam, you can’t ask me to turn my back on my family. I won’t do it. I won’t,” he said adamantly. “Yes, my grandparents need me, but so do you. You might think you don’t, but you do! I know the risk and it’s my choice. Don’t take that from me, Sam, please.”

  “But Trav …”

  “I could never live with myself if I stayed behind. I couldn’t live knowing you and Sarah were in danger and I stayed here and did nothing.” Travis took a step toward Sam with a look of desperation on his face. “So, I’m asking you again, please. Don’t take that choice from me.”

  There was a long pause while Sam and Travis stared at one another. Dem
etrius stood quietly with both hands on his staff. He looked back and forth between the two boys until Sam finally spoke. “Okay.”

  Travis let out a long sigh and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Okay.”

  Chapter 21

  “Travis,” Demetrius said as he walked toward him, “I think I can help you with your grandparents.”

  Travis and Sam both turned to face him. “Really? How?” Travis asked, his tone full of skepticism.

  “I can help them to forget,” Demetrius said calmly. Travis narrowed his eyes.

  “What do you mean … forget?”

  Demetrius rubbed his hand along the side of his thin, gray beard and looked up to the ceiling as if he was working out the finer details of a grand plan.

  “Yes … Coppertop I think.”

  Travis’s eyes grew wide. “Um, no offense, Demetrius, but that guy’s from the shallow end of the gene pool. I don’t want Mr. Happy anywhere near my grandparents.”

  Sam could tell by Demetrius’s raised eyebrow that he was not entirely sure what Travis had just said. But he understood that Coppertop would be a problem.

  “No, we don’t need Coppertop to meet your grandparents. That would probably be a bad idea. But we do need what Coppertop has on him,” Demetrius said.

  “And what’s that?” Sam asked.

  “Silver Ever-lace,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

  Demetrius turned to the Centurion outside Sam’s bedroom door. “Lucio, find Coppertop. I need a flask of Silver Ever-lace.”

  “Yes, sir.” The Centurion nodded, then turned and evaporated.

  While they waited for Lucio to return, Sam looked around the room one last time. He had packed most of what he thought he would need for the journey, which wasn’t much because his backpack was rather small.

  “Demetrius, what about the rest of the stuff in the house, like my mom’s and Sarah’s things?” he asked as he looked around the room. His gaze fell on his Sony PlayStation.

  “Coppertop will take care of all that, so don’t worry. It will all be coming with us.” Demetrius reassured him.

  Travis noticed Sam’s gaze, walked over, and placed his hand on the PlayStation. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss my old Jessy. She was good to me.”

  Sam smirked. “Jessy? You named your PlayStation Jessy?”

  Travis frowned and looked offended. “Whatever, Sam, you were never a serious gamer like me. Think of it like a racecar driver referring to his car with a pet name.”

  “Yeah, I get the symbolism, Speed Racer,” Sam smirked.

  “Whatever.”

  “So, why Jessy?”

  Travis began to blush. “Oh, well, long story.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “Why Jessy?” he asked again, his gaze turning into a hard stare. Travis grimaced and sighed.

  “Fine! You want to break a man down? I named it after … Jessica Rabbit. There, you happy?”

  Sam could not help but laugh. The feeling almost felt foreign to him now. “Wha … What? Why Jessica Rabbit?”

  “I was like five, dude, I don’t know!” Travis said, throwing his hands up in the air.

  Sam shook his head, grinning. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a pretty good idea why.”

  “Yeah, yeah … get your mind out of the gutter, perv!” Travis groaned and plopped himself on Sam’s bed.

  Sam smiled as he surveyed the room for anything else he might need, when suddenly the room was illuminated with a flash of blue light and Lucio emerged, holding a silver flask in his armored glove.

  “The flask, sir,” he said, holding out a small bottle. “Coppertop wasn’t particularly happy about relinquishing the potion but Mahan persuaded him.”

  Demetrius took the flask from the Centurion. “Thank you, Lucio.”

  “Yes, sir,” The soldier replied.

  Demetrius turned to Sam and Travis. “This should solve your problem,” he said, and held up the silver flask. A series of black ligatures separated by small symbols lined the top and bottom of the container.

  Travis stood up from the bed. “What does it do?”

  Demetrius unscrewed the top of the flask and poured a few drops of the thick liquid into the cap. The opalescent potion sparkled and swirled on its own, emitting a perfumed smell into the air. Sam thought it was alive at first, like a large microorganism. But it wasn’t, he finally concluded, it just looked bizarre, like everything else from this other world.

  “Silver Ever-lace is a very powerful potion,” Demetrius said. “It has the ability to erase the memory of those who drink it. With the proper incantation it can be directed to erase a specific situation, place, or thing, even a person’s entire memory. Not only will it wipe the memory of the one who drinks it, but any they come in contact with as well. It will continue to spread like this until the memory and everything related to it becomes nonexistent.

  “So, like, if my grandmother takes it and then talks to my grandfather about me, they’ll both forget me?” Travis asked.

  “Correct, “Demetrius said, “like you never existed. But you can also protect certain people from memory loss if you wish. Again, it all boils down to the proper incantation.”

  “So, I’m guessing you have used this before and you know the incantation?” Sam asked.

  “Yes,” Demetrius replied. “I have had to use it once or twice, depending on the mission I was on. But there was no time for me to acquire the potion before coming here since it’s a controlled substance. Proper procedures must be followed. Coppertop, on the other hand, being from the Department of Magical Sterilization, carries it with him at all times.”

  “Great, a guy like that can wipe memories … I could have lived without knowing that,” Travis said shaking his head.

  “Well, it’s regulated with a memory charm.” Both Sam and Travis looked puzzled. “Meaning that every time the potion is used the bottle will record how it was used and by whom. Flasks of Silver Ever-lace are always turned in to the Magical Artifacts Department for analysis after a mission is complete.”

  Sam nodded like he understood everything Demetrius said, and it seemed to be enough for Travis too. “Okay so … what do we do now?” Travis asked.

  “Wait, Trav,” Sam said as he took a step closer to Travis. “This is big. I mean, are you really okay with this? There is no going back. After tonight your grandparents will never know you even existed.”

  Travis stared at Sam with a probing gaze, then lifted his chin, cleared his throat, and his expression became serious.

  “The way I see it, Sam, is that I have two choices. Stay with my grandparents who may live another five years if I’m lucky or say goodbye now, on my own terms. I choose … my own terms,” he said with a sense of finality in his tone. “I hate having to choose, but I know I can’t stand by and do nothing and have the only other people I consider family walk out of my life.” Travis paused and looked down to the floor. “I can’t do it, Sam. I just can’t do it.” He took in a deep breath before looking back up. “They have my uncle Keven so I know they will be taken care of. Besides, you need me, Sam. You might not think you do, but you do. You need your family.”

  Sam thought for a moment before speaking. He wondered what he would do if the tables were turned. Could he leave his grandparents if he had any? Could he risk his life to help someone he thought of as family? The answer to that question, he realized, was yes, he could. He was doing that already for Sarah and he would do it for anyone he considered family.

  “Okay, Trav,” Sam said and pursed his lips. “I understand.”

  Travis smiled and sighed in relief. “’Bout time,” he said and turned to look back at Demetrius, “So, you were saying?”

  Demetrius raised his eyebrows. He seemed caught off guard, as if he wasn’t sure Sam and Travis were really done talking. After a moment’s pause he said, “I will take you to your home, Travis, where we can administer the potion. Sam will remain behind with Mahan. Demetrius looked to Sam. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Um, yeah, I g
uess, but why can’t I go with you?” Sam asked.

  “I think the fewer people that go the better. I don’t exactly blend in and the three of us together might draw unwanted attention. Besides, you will be safer here.

  Sam didn’t necessarily like that answer but said nothing more about it.

  “Lucio, please take Sam here down below with Mahan.”

  The large Centurion turned and moved into the room, his magnificent armor reflecting the green and blue light that illuminated from the gemstones of the staffs.

  “Yes, sir,” he replied.

  Demetrius poured the contents of the Silver Ever-lace back into the flask and stowed it beneath the chest plate of his armor. He then took a step forward and brought Hollister between Travis and himself. “It’s time, Travis.”

  Travis looked at Hollister and his face sank. “Yeah, okay,” he sighed as he placed a hand around the staff. Sam thought he already looked squeamish; he knew he wasn’t looking forward to evaporating again.

  There was a green flash and the two bodies disappeared, leaving behind the familiar green mist in their wake. Sam zipped his backpack up, threw it over his shoulder, and took one final look around his room. He would miss this place. After all, it had been his room for thirteen years.

  Sam looked up at Lucio and gave a tight smile. “I guess I’m ready, Lucio.” The Centurion nodded and placed his elegant silver staff between them. Sam took in a deep breath, knowing what came next. Slowly he placed his hand on the staff and hooked his thumb through the strap of his backpack. The shaft was warm, the room was silent, and then everything went dark.

  When Sam reappeared he was standing on the bottom floor near the front door, and for the first time he didn’t feel like he wanted to throw up after evaporating. He glanced over at Lucio, who was looking down at him. Sam could see his blue eyes through the dark recesses of his helmet.

  “Thanks for the ride,” he said. Lucio nodded and then evaporated, returning to his post upstairs.

  Sam walked toward Mahan, who was standing guard near the back of the living room watching Coppertop. Two long, slender cases, his mother’s Quarrem, and Poppy lay at Coppertop’s feet. Sam assumed the slender cases were the Viper’s sword and Nara. Moving next to Mahan, Sam watched as Coppertop, with his wild hair and wiry body, began waving his wand in a large circular motion, turning clockwise each time his hand completed a full circle. Sam heard him repeating the same phrase over and over.