Warriors of the Black Shroud

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Warriors of the Black Shroud Page 4

by Peter Howe


  “Oooph,” was all he could say.

  He picked up his battered fedora and brushed the leaves and dirt off it.

  “I really have to work on my reentry skills,” he said.

  “When will you go back to the Kingdom?” Walker asked.

  “Well,” Eddie replied, “I thought I might stick around here for a while. I don’t want you forgetting about us.”

  “That would be pretty hard,” Walker said.

  “Unless I make you forget,” Eddie retorted with a grin.

  “Yeah,” said Walker. “You never did show me how to do that!”

  “We can’t let you into all of our secrets all at once,” Eddie replied. “If we did you’d never come back.”

  Walker felt a pang of conscience when Eddie said that, because, in his heart of hearts, he knew he never would.

  “It’d be fun to have you around,” he told him, and surprisingly he meant it.

  “Well, say hi to your mom for me,” said Eddie, “and tell her to save a slice of that cherry pie she’s making.”

  And with that he disappeared.

  How does he know my mom’s making a cherry pie? Walker wondered to himself.

  When he got back to the house, his mother was still in the kitchen. Walker’s nose detected the comforting smell of a pie baking in the oven. He went up to her, kissed her on the cheek, and then sat down on one of the kitchen chairs.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied. “Why would I miss you? You must’ve been gone all of two minutes. Much as I love you I can bear to be apart from you for that amount of time.”

  So, he thought, it really does work like the king said it would. There is a difference between time here and in the Kingdom.

  “You look pretty perky today,” his mother said. “You’ve got a sort of glow about you.”

  When she said that Walker froze. Could it be that the effects of being in the Kingdom didn’t wear off immediately? He stole a furtive glance at his hands, but they looked just like they always did when he was home.

  “Since you told me you don’t have any plans for the rest of this lovely day I’ve arranged a surprise for you,” his mother said.

  For the second time in as many minutes Walker froze.

  “What kind of a surprise?” he asked nervously.

  “You know that old cottage on the Trumbell farm?” his mother asked him. “It seems that old Jeremiah Trumbell sold it to some folks from Boston. Anyway, they’ve been doing it up, and now they’ve moved in, and they have a daughter. So I invited her to come and play with you. She should be here soon.”

  “Oh, Mom!” cried Walker. “You know how I hate meeting kids.”

  “Sweetie, you’ve got to get over it,” his mother insisted. “You can’t spend the rest of your life in isolation. You have to learn to get along with other people.”

  “But those Outerworld kids always treat me like a freak,” Walker complained.

  “What kind of kids?” asked his mother.

  “Oh, it’s just a word I use to describe people who aren’t from around here,” Walker hurriedly said.

  “Well, you’re not a freak,” his mother assured him. “You just have a slight blemish that isn’t nearly as noticeable as you think it is.”

  “If it isn’t noticeable,” Walker replied, “then why is it the first thing about me anyone notices?”

  “You’re too sensitive.” His mother sighed. “Anyway, it’s too late to disinvite her now. She’ll be here any moment.”

  “I’m going up to my room,” Walker said crossly. “If you want me that’s where I’ll be!”

  Walker had become skilled at avoiding his mother’s attempts to organize social occasions for him. He had developed techniques that often managed to get rid of intruders quickly, and one of them was to present himself as the most boring boy they had ever met. He decided to read a book no other kid would be interested in. He looked around his room; then his eyes stopped on the perfect solution—Collins English Dictionary and Thesaurus (New Edition). He pulled it down from the mantel above the fireplace, settled on his bed, his legs tucked under him, and did his best to look thoroughly interested.

  There was a knock on his door and then his mother came in.

  “Walker, this is . . .”

  And that was as far as she got before Frances Livonia Hayes burst into the tiny bedroom and into his life like a force of nature.

  “Hi, I’m Frances, but my friends call me Frankie. You can call me Frankie too if you like, because I think we’re going to be friends. I hope so anyway because I love having friends. I’ve got lots and lots, and I bet you do too.”

  Walker couldn’t believe his eyes or his ears. She was short and skinny, and maybe a year or two younger than he was. She practically crackled with energy and Walker had the feeling she wasn’t going to be easy to get rid of.

  “What a cool room. It’s so old. I love old, don’t you? Our house is old too. Not the one in Boston, ’cause that’s an apartment, not a house, but the one across the road. I love to imagine all the things that must have happened in each room for all the years before us. Do you think anyone ever died in this room? I bet they did.”

  Actually this was one of the things that Walker had wondered about, because his bedroom was in the oldest part of the house, but Frankie had already launched into something else.

  “What are you reading? A dictionary! I love dictionaries. I spend hours looking at the one we have at home. I love words, don’t you? My favorite game is Scrabble—and crosswords. I love crosswords. What words are you looking at?”

  She took the book from his hands and ran her index finger across the pages.

  “Hey, look at this. Phillumenist—a person who collects matchbox labels. I didn’t know matchboxes had labels, did you? Or at least none worth collecting? Don’t people do funny things?”

  Walker’s head started to spin.

  “Slow down!” was all he could think to say.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Frankie replied. “My mom always tells me I talk too much, but I tell her it’s because I have two lawyers for parents so what does she expect. What’s that on your face? Is that a tattoo? That is so cool. I love tats. I soooo want one but my mom says I’m too young. Do you think I’m too young for one?”

  He was now confused enough that he didn’t know what to think. This was the second time in just a few hours that someone had made a virtue out of his hated birthmark. He could understand why the citizens of Nebula thought it was great, but Frankie was just an ordinary girl.

  “No—I mean yes,” he finally mumbled. “I mean it’s not a tattoo. It’s a birthmark.”

  “Wow!” she said, peering more closely. “That’s amazing. Will it ever go away?”

  “I don’t think so,” he replied. “I wish it would, but I don’t think it will.”

  “Why would you want it to?” she asked. “It makes you different and that’s so great. I love being different. Why would you ever want to be the same as everyone else? What’s the point of that?”

  “I dunno,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Sometimes it just seems easier.”

  “Oh, please!” she replied.

  And that was that, end of conversation, or at least of that topic. Her final word on Walker’s birthmark didn’t prevent Frankie from discussing the merits of her cell phone when compared to that of her best friend’s; her favorite food—meatloaf; her least favorite food—fish because it tasted fishy; her favorite books, movies, cars, card games, skateboards, teachers, and on, and on, and on. The fact that Walker barely said a word didn’t worry her in the least. In fact she hardly seemed to notice, because when she looked at the clock beside Walker’s bed she suddenly said:

  “Oh my gosh! Is that clock right? I have to go home. It’s been fun. I like you a lot. Do you like me? Shall I come by again tomorrow? Do you wanna go tracking in the woods? Do you think your mom would let you go?”

  Walker could only mumble “Yeah, sure�
� in response and hope that his answer covered most of her questions. After promising to come by the same time the following day, Frankie bounded out, leaving Walker exhausted but okay. A few minutes later his mother poked her head around the door.

  “Well, what did you think of Frances?” she inquired anxiously.

  “She’s different,” he replied, and she certainly was.

  Chapter 7

  True to her word, Frankie arrived at exactly the same time the next day. Now she was dressed more comfortably in a pair of shorts, some old sneakers, and a T-shirt that said VAMPIRE IN TRAINING. She asked Walker’s mom if it was all right for him to go for a walk with her, but had grabbed his hand and was already heading out of the door before Mrs. Watson had a chance to answer. They went to the bottom of the yard, past the hole in the ground behind the barn, and into the woods at the far end. Walker had always loved the woods because he rarely saw anyone else in them, and he was surprised at how much he liked being there with Frankie. Her constant chatter was soothing, like the buzz of bees on a hot summer’s day. They came to a clearing where somebody had made a bench out of two tree stumps and a log. Frankie ran over to it and lay down, her hands clasped behind her head, looking up at the patches of sky between the branches of the trees.

  “My mom told me that your mom told her that you don’t have any friends,” she said without turning to look at him.

  “I do so,” Walker protested.

  “I knew you must,” said Frankie. “It would be terrible not to have friends. Who’s your best one?”

  “Well,” Walker replied, pausing for a minute as if he was mentally going through an extensive address book, “my newest is a boy called Eddie.”

  “Does he live near here?” she asked.

  “Sort of,” Walker said.

  “What do you mean—sort of?” Frankie demanded. “Either he lives near here or he doesn’t.”

  “Well, if you really have to know,” Walker said, getting irritated by her constant questions, “he actually lives in another world, but you can get to it quickly.”

  “What do you mean—other world?” exclaimed Frankie.

  “It’s underground,” Walker replied. “At least, I think it is. You get there through a long black tunnel.”

  “You mean he’s like a miner?” asked Frankie, completely confused.

  “No, he’s a prince and he lives in a Kingdom,” Walker replied.

  Frankie folded her arms and looked Walker straight in the eyes.

  “Walker Watson,” she said, “I will believe everything you tell me, because I think you should believe what friends tell you, but if you ever lie to me then it’s shame on you, not shame on me.”

  “I’m not lying,” Walker protested. “He’s real. I’ve really seen him.”

  “No way!” exclaimed Frankie, swinging her legs down from the bench and sitting up. “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure,” said Walker, although he didn’t sound too certain.

  “Pretty sure,” Frankie questioned, “or, like, absolutely sure? Did you actually touch him?”

  “Yes, we held hands.”

  “Why?” Frankie asked.

  “To get into the Kingdom,” Walker replied. “You have to hold hands and jump into that hole I dug behind the barn.”

  “Really?” Frankie said excitedly. “Can anyone do it? If we held hands could we go to the Kingdom?”

  “ I don’t think so,” said Walker. “I think you have to be with Eddie.”

  “Oh, come on,” urged Frankie, “I bet you can. Let’s try it. Please!”

  Walker was about to explain to her that he didn’t want to go back to the Kingdom but Frankie was already running toward the barn.

  “It’s not very deep,” she observed, looking into the hole.

  “No,” agreed Walker, “it doesn’t have to be. It gets deeper when you jump in.”

  “Cool!” she cried. “Let’s do it.”

  She grabbed his hand and leaped in, pulling him with her. There was a jarring thud as their feet hit the dirt, and they both tumbled over. She got up and brushed herself off. Walker was relieved that he wasn’t on his way back to Nebula because he would have to explain to everyone that he wasn’t there because he wanted to be king, but because a girl had pulled him into the hole against his will. It would have been kind of embarrassing.

  “Well,” Frankie said with a grin, “I guess you’re right. We need Eddie. How do you get hold of him?”

  “Actually,” said Walker, “he gets hold of me. I don’t know how to get hold of him.”

  “What kind of a friend is that?” Frankie exclaimed. “Now that you’re my friend you will always be able to get me. Can’t you text him or something?”

  Walker mumbled something about Eddie not being a texting kind of guy, then got out of the hole and started to walk back toward his house. Frankie quickly caught up with him.

  “Don’t worry, he’ll come back,” she said, “and when he does, come get me. I’m going to be here for weeks and weeks, practically forever, so we’ve got time. I want to go to that Kingdom place with you.”

  It wasn’t until Frankie had gone home and Walker was alone that he thought about what she said. It was true that he had no way of contacting Eddie, and Walker was probably just a job to him. An assignment. One Chosen One—find and deliver ASAP.

  That night Walker had a strange dream—two strange dreams, in fact. The first one was really a nightmare. He was walking by himself in an empty, barren place and it was almost dark. There were no trees or shrubs, no buildings, no roads, just an endless flat expanse of rough, stony ground. Suddenly out of this wasteland came the most awful monsters—hooded giants that loomed over him, and skeletons with round, bulging eyes and ragged clothes that flew above him on black-feathered wings. They swept down like angry jackdaws, and he dropped to the ground to avoid them. As he did so, huge, blind black worms rose up out of the arid earth and crawled around his legs and arms, pulling him down so that he could not escape. It took all his strength to free himself from their slimy grasp, and when he was finally upright the skeletons dove toward him again, forcing him back down to the ground, where the worms trapped him once more. He woke up with his heart pounding.

  He was convinced that he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, but no sooner had he thought this than he was dreaming again. Now he was mounted on a gleaming white unicorn, a proud animal with a long, flowing mane, and it walked with great dignity through cheering crowds that thronged the streets of the Kingdom. Riding next to him on his right side was Eddie astride a similarly magnificent animal, only this one was a creamy color. The young prince held his sword aloft. Walker suddenly realized there were arms around his waist, and that he was not alone on the unicorn. He looked over his shoulder and there was Frankie. She winked at him.

  “See?” she said. “I told you we could do it. Aren’t you glad now you brought me with you?”

  The two animals made their way down the long avenue to the courtyard of the palace. The king’s empty throne stood in the middle of the yard with the stern figure of Lumina behind it. The two unicorns stopped, waiting for their riders to dismount, when suddenly white wings sprouted from the shoulders of the one ridden by Walker and Frankie, and the animal began to rise in the air. Walker looked down to see Eddie watching them and grinning. Up and up the unicorn flew and the Kingdom got smaller and smaller until it could no longer be seen. They flew into clouds and one of them formed itself into the face of the king. He smiled at the two children.

  “All is well,” the cloud said. Then Walker woke up and it was morning.

  He dressed quickly and went down for his breakfast.

  “My, you look full of vim and vigor,” his mother observed.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” Walker said. “I think I’ll go and see if Frankie’s around.”

  “I’m so glad you like her,” his mother said. “She seems like a lot of fun.”

  But it wasn’t the prospect of seeing his new friend that had en
ergized him. In fact he wasn’t sure why he felt so invigorated, but he thought it had something to do with the dreams, even the bad one. He set out for Frankie’s house, but then decided to go by way of the orchard to see if any apples were ripe yet. He rounded the corner of the barn and there was Eddie.

  “So,” the prince said, leaning his hands and his chin upon the handle of his sword, “you’ve got yourself a girlfriend, have you? You are a lucky lad.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Walker protested. “She’s just a friend. Anyway, how do you know about her?”

  “Ah well,” said Eddie mysteriously, “I know a lot of things—not that it does me much good when I have to deal with a stubborn fellow like you. It’s all very frustrating. Here I find the one person who can help save the Kingdom after centuries of looking, and you don’t want to be king—why not, I can’t imagine. Most people would kill to be king; in fact I know some who have. Then I come back to the Outerworld to find you cavorting around with some girl.”

  “I wasn’t cavorting,” Walker protested. He wasn’t quite sure what cavorting involved, but he was pretty certain that neither he nor Frankie had been doing it. “She’s just my friend—the first friend I’ve ever had.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” Eddie said, his shoulders suddenly slumping in despair. “I’m sure she’s great, but don’t you see? The Kingdom may be in peril, and if it goes down, if the Black Shroud triumphs and the Source is extinguished, then my last hope for redemption goes with it and I will be lost for eternity.”

  “You’ll be what?” said Walker.

  “Nothing,” the young prince replied. “I’m just worried, not just for myself but for all those good people in the Kingdom. Anyway, you’ve known me longer than you’ve known her so if anybody’s going to be your friend it should be me.”

  Walker was amazed that Eddie thought of him as a friend, but shocked at what else he said.

  “Whoa. Back up a bit. What do you mean—if the Source is extinguished?”

  “Like the king said, after the Black Count was defeated at the Battle of Barren Plains he swore revenge,” Eddie replied. “He vowed to destroy the Source, because if that goes we go with it. Light is the only defense we have and without it the Warriors of the Black Shroud would destroy the Kingdom and enslave everyone in it.”

 

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