by W. Peever
"If only I could. There is a reason the Templar are no longer a part of the Order. My grandfather had an almighty battle against a high member of the council. You know him as Lord Vali." The children took a breath as one. "Yes, he pressured my grandfather for the location of the tablets. The old man killed himself on the spot so as not to be tortured into divulging the secret. In anticipation of Vali following up his threats, he had already passed the box on to my father, but not the code to open it. Vali instantly banished the Templar Knights from the Order." Avery got up and paced. "My family has been in hiding ever since."
"And all that is for naught!" Avery's brother roared. "You little numbskulls led him right to us, didn't you!" He turned to Avery. "Brother, we can no longer be keepers of the box; it must go to another Templar."
"There are more of you left?" gasped Bailey.
Avery nodded. "Yes, in hiding like us. The Templar were always holy men, and as times changed so did we. We are all Episcopalian priests today, just a couple hundred scattered around the world." Avery turned to his brother. "We must take the children through the tunnels to the Old North. Brother Matthew will keep them safe till Grayson can send someone. We can leave from there to find a new hiding place for the box."
Just as Caleb nodded, shattering glass and crumbling rock resounded from the rooms above them. Lord Vali had found his way around the enchantments carefully erected to secure the church, and was now inside with them.
Chapter Six Tunnels and Trolls
"They're here!" Colin yelled as he and his father grabbed their swords and ran for the stairwell, and frantically began to draw runes all around the frame. A second bubble of electric blue encircled them.
Avery smiled reassuringly and strapped on his sword. "Well, it appears our plans have changed. Now, Charlie, I held up my side of the bargain. It's your turn—what is your ability?"
"I am the World Jumper." Avery's mouth went slack and he fell to one knee, but not in reverence. "Then you know how to open the box! The prophesy must be true." There was a pleading in his voice just under the thunderous pride.
"No." Charlie said, shaking his head. "But Tillie does. She saw it in her vision."
Avery stood up with a start. "Are you telling me Tillie is the Seer who walks by your side? Oh my Gods, Caleb." Avery put his hands on his brother's shoulders and his head on his chest.
Caleb stared at them all in disbelief. "Might, Sight, Mind and Time. It's them. Our wait has come to an end at last—we must return to the Order. They need to know what is about to happen."
"What?" asked Bailey. "What are Might, Sight, Mind and Time? What is all this? We need to get out of here!" Bailey looked pleadingly at Charlie.
Avery went over and hugged her, lifting her kicking legs off the ground. "You are! But we need to hurry. Tillie, can you do what Charlie said you can—open this box?"
Tillie nodded. "I think so. I saw Henry show William in my vision."
"Show me." Avery's eyes began to tear as he handed the puzzle box over. Tillie began to move the runes in the order that she saw them in. The memory was fuzzy, but her fingers seemed to know exactly what to do as they moved unerringly over the wood. Puzzle pieces locked together, and then with a final click the box lid slowly cranked open. Tillie handed the box back to Avery, who placed it on the table and reverently lifted something from its depths.
The gold from the metal object glistened in his hands. "It's an astrolabe. But not like any I've seen before. Not just a star map, this also has other dials with runes." Avery paused. "It's so complex. This must be the tool we need to find the clues to the Stones of Babel and the treasure." A loud bang, a quaking and the sound of more demolition came from upstairs.
"Brother! Hurry! Open the tunnel!" urged Caleb.
"No, it's too late for that," answered Avery. He grabbed Colin by a shoulder and thrust the astrolabe at him. The boy's face froze in apprehension. "You must take the object and the others to the Old North Church. Keep them safe. This is of the utmost importance. When you get there search out Brother Matthew, and tell him to contact Grayson at Thornfield. You'll be safe within minutes of that phone call—Grayson will see to that. Then tell Grayson everything you know."
"I should stay!" complained Colin.
"No, only we need to stay here to guard your escape and seal the tunnel behind you. The evil Lord Vali," Avery uttered the title and name with utter contempt, "can never know there is a tunnel or he will follow you, and Grayson will never be forewarned. These children and the astrolabe can never fall into Vali's hands. Do you understand?" His knuckles were white, squeezing his nephew's shoulder. "Do you understand?"
"Yes…yes! I understand." The last yes was shaken out of him by Avery's large muscled hand.
"We'll not be far behind, I promise—just securing the tunnel out the main entrance to Marblehead town. That is safety, says the stinking Lord himself. Grayson has taken care of that for us."
"Our guard!" blurted Charlie. "Get our Guard! Marley and Cillie and the rest—they're in the shack by Red's Pond! They'll help you."
"Grayson again!" Avery nodded, flashing Charlie and Mick a reassuring smile. "Then it is decided."
Caleb gave Colin his sword. "This one has a bit more bite to it, lad—in case you meet some trolls down there! After all, this tunnel hasn't been used in centuries." He cuffed the back of his son's head and then drew the rune for opening the floor. By magic a staircase materialized where the rune had been, that led down into the dark tunnel beneath the church.
"Go!" Avery shouted to them, handing Colin a lit torch. The five children began their descent into the deep of the Earth. As the floor sealed up above them Bailey gave a shudder, never a fan of caves or cramped spaces. Once when very young she had fallen into an old well she and Charlie were playing above, in a field. It had taken Charlie two hours to find her unconscious at the bottom of the collapsed well. He had searched and searched, and could never tell the rescue workers how he had found her. He just had, as if drawn to the sound of her beating heart. Now in this dark, ever-descending staircase she grabbed Charlie's hand, and he gave hers a little squeeze.
"Have you ever been down here before?" asked Mick.
"No. No one has. Not in centuries." It was obvious by his staggered answer Colin was straining to hear any sounds of the battle that must be raging above. But all any of them could hear was the dripping of water from the roots that hung between the granite bricks of the tunnel. Charlie could almost taste the earthy musk that hung suspended in the air; a very clean odor that reminded him of summers in the garden. Looking around him now, it was hard to imagine those carefree days before he knew about this world of magic and danger. Charlie stopped for a moment to sheath his sword. The sound of metal against metal caused Colin to stop on a stair at the front of their procession.
"Don't put it away, Charlie." He looked each of his companions in the eye, one after the other. "Keep your weapons handy, and magic tricks charged. This is not a place to let down your guard for one second."
Mick grasped his staff with a flourish. "They're not magic tricks, mate, they're abilities. Anyway, the battle's up there," he thrust with his staff. "If any Vanari caught up with us we'd know it, wouldn't we? All I hear is the drip, drip, drip from these damn roots that keep getting caught in my hair." Mick was by far the tallest of the group and his usually well-kept hair was entangled and peppered with dirt from the tunnel ceiling.
Colin shrugged. "Magic…abilities…whatever you call them, the effect is the same. Just be ready for anything." Colin turned back to face the emptiness in front of them. "And it's not Vanari we need to be worried about down in the belly of the earth."
Colin knew about the creatures that dwell in the earthy places of the world. He knew that more than moles, rabbits and groundhogs could dig holes into these ancient tunnels. It had been on his tenth birthday he experienced his first encounter, and the grotesque scar across his back still stung him as a reminder of the creatures who stalk men from the shadows.
Family movies where mother tucked her little child in bed and said there was no such thing as monsters only raised a bitter laugh in him these days. He knew better. Parents should listen to their children, for if they did there would be a whole lot fewer child abductions. Kids have an innate ability to withstand the charms of the Influencearian. They see the monsters despite the constant subliminal messages the Influencearian send through the television, keeping the public oblivious.
It was a troll that tried to kidnap Colin from his bedroom. He could still remember the shifting shadows and heavy breathing coming from the closet. He had called out for his mother and when she arrived she kissed his head and told him everything was going to be all right and try to sleep. Once she left, his father pushed a sharp blade into his hand. "When they come," his father instructed him, "you must be silent, lure them in, and make them think you are fast asleep. You are going to want to scream out, but you can't. You must stay still. Then when you can smell his foul breath, turn and stab him with this knife. Then scream and run. You must run then, Colin, or he will kill you. But do not fear. I will be at your side in moments, and together we will slaughter this beast of the night."
His father closed the door, and the night once again blanketed his room; the darkness muting all the reassuring noises of the day, and welcoming the ominous ones of the dark. The young boy trembled in the presence of the new sounds that meant danger was near, the creaking floor boards, the scraping of the tree outside his bedroom window, and the muffled sound of something breathing heavily from the shadows. Colin held his breath and gripped the knife tightly to his chest; he was trying so hard to control his breathing that he did not even feel the knife cutting through his superman pajamas and the tender flesh beneath.
"Look out!" Mick grabbed Colin by the back of his collar and threw him to the ground, causing the older boy to draw his small knife in surprise. "You almost walked right off the stairs, mate! Where were you? It was like you were in a trance."
Colin picked himself up, and stuck the knife back into his belt. "That's a very dark pit," he said, looking over the precipice into the black void that surrounded the bridge they still had to cross over. He turned to Mick, hand outstretched. "Thanks."
"Do you think it will be safe to cross? I mean, the bridge is only about three feet wide and…" Bailey looked over the edge and into the abyss of total darkness. "What psychopath built this bridge? I mean, seriously, what is this? —the Bridge over the Canyon of Empty Souls?"
Colin looked at her curiously. "The Soul's Abyss." Bailey raised one eyebrow, in a way that only she and Star Trek's Spock could pull off. "Oh, I thought you were trying to remember the name of the abyss," Colin said deadpan. "This is one of the bridges over the Ninth Kingdom of Musdel Heim…the Fire World." He got two raised eyebrows from Bailey this time, something Spock never did. "It is also called The World of Fire…the place really, really bad people go when they die, equivalent to the worst Christian stories of Hell."
"I remember the story of the Fire Demons." Tillie chimed in. "All young Manserian are raised on it." She turned to her three friends. "That is, if both your parents have abilities. You all know that Heroes go to Gimle or Valhalla, and have lemonade all day and party all night, but when most people die they just go to the underworld for eternity. If they were kinda bad they go to Hel to work off their sin, breaking rocks and stuff, but if you are really bad you are tortured by primal beasts in Musdel Heim." Tillie turned to Colin and grimaced. "Are you telling us this is where the veil is thinnest to the Fire World?"
"Yes." Colin replied, looking gravely at them all. "The veil that separates our world from theirs; here we could pass into their world or they into ours. These tunnels," he gestured behind and in front of him, "are also where the veil is thinnest between Juton and us."
Mick looked worried. "Juton? The Trolls' and Giants' world?"
"Not to mention Yeti, ice wolves and other wee ghoulies. Yes." Tillie moved a bit closer to Charlie. "Keep your eyes peeled and your weapons gripped tight. We should be all right—it's midnight and most Trolls are out stalking small mortal children in their bedrooms. So let's take advantage of their absence. Come on then!"
Colin led them over the long thin bridge that crossed the abyss below. They walked for hours in the darkness.
"Colin…how long is this bridge exactly?" Bailey enquired, starting to tire.
"I don't know. Just keep moving—it can't be much longer. If it wasn't for this mist I'm sure we could see the other side." The mist had been slowly drifting up from the abyss and was now knee deep. The cool moisture of its clouds clung to their legs.
The five pressed on, one foot in front of the other, each trusting the bridge would not end sending them tumbling into the worst parts of Hel. When it seemed their trek would never end, all at once the brown dirt walls of the other side appeared, mica-rich soil reflecting their torch light like a billion glistening stars. "It's beautiful," remarked Tillie.
"Just shiny rocks, girlie," said Mick with a smile. He plucked a piece of mica from the wall and tossed it to her. Tillie gave him an audible humph, and bounded to the front of the procession with Charlie and Colin.
Colin suddenly stopped and gripped tight the pommel of his sword.
"Put out your torches." The others froze in panicked indecision. "Now!" All snuffed their torches, and the light in the tunnel disappeared. Charlie had never experienced total darkness before. In the city you have streetlights that glow. Even in the woods there are the moon and stars. Not here—not even enough light to see the outline of the next person. It would have been really cool if they hadn't been hiding from something that might make a midnight picnic out of them. Charlie was about to suggest that he and Mick give the girls a good scare when a low, moaning wail that seemed to emit from right in front of them echoed through the tunnel. It sent electric shocks shooting from his heart to the tips of his fingers; his skin tightened and goose bumps erupted all over his body.
"Everyone," Colin whispered, "find the wall to the left and crouch down facing the dirt. No questions, no talking, just do it." Another groan came from behind them, answered by the one ahead. Whatever they were hiding from were communicating, Charlie hoped not about dinner. An earth-shaking whoop resounded in the tunnel, making Bailey jump and grab for Mick's oversized hand. Together the five of them clung to the damp earthen wall, their weapons out in front of them, as they waited for death. But as abruptly as the noises had begun it was quiet again but for the familiar blip, blip of water falling.
Like the others hardly daring to breathe again, Charlie whispered to Colin. "Can we talk?"
"I think it's safe, though they only whoop like that when they've found their prey."
"They?" Tillie said in a shaky voice as she quaked. "There are more? How many?"
"Well…" Colin slid his sword into its scabbard while searching the ground for his torch. "They were either Mole Trolls or your garden variety Cave Trolls. Either way they live in tunnels like this, hunt in packs of at least four. Unlike Mountain Trolls above ground, these find strength in numbers rather than brute strength." Tillie's body shook with an involuntary shudder.
"Ya, Tillie—don't know exactly how many."
"What do they eat?"
Colin chuckled. "Whatever they can trap, hunt, or find dead on the floor. They're not proud. They're true opportunistic feeders, always hungry. But, Tillie, they prefer humans to dead rats…yes, they were hunting us."
"But they're smaller than Mountain Trolls. So how big is that?" asked Mick, still on his hands and knees feeling around for his torch.
"They're about four feet tall I'd say, maybe three feet wide—from their ravenous scarfing up of everything in sight." Colin quipped.
"Four feet tall?" Mick reignited his torch and handed it to Colin. "For serious? Oh man, I almost shat myself for that? Fat, short and ugly?"
Colin's eyes flashed, narrowing his eyebrows at Mick. "Fat, yes. Short, yes. Ugly—definitely. Nowhere near as pretty as your streamline
d self, but that's no' what they're here for. They carry pouches full o' a dust that can cast you into a sleep that's more like a coma. Then they tie you up and roast you alive. What do you think o' that, mate?" Seeing Mick suitably impressed, he carried on in the same macho tone. "Mostly it's either poor dogs and cats that go exploring. Ever wondered about Kitty or Rover that never came home? Every once in a while they get bigger prey that stray into these tunnels. Sometimes it's Katy or Tommy that disappears without explanation. But never you mind, Mickey—if anything like that happens to you we won't be left wondering why…"
Bailey grabbed Mick's hand; Mick smiled in the darkness. "Are you sure they're gone?" she asked Colin, this time querying with a lot more respect.
"That's just it. I'm sure they're still looking for us. They were attracted by our lit torches in the first place, so all of you keep your eyes skinned." Colin stopped and thought for a moment. "Never mind. It's three a.m., so we'll be another five hours steady trekking reaching the church catacombs. The Trolls won't cross the bridge—they're terrified of heights, so if we go back to it and catch a couple of winks it should be fine. It's as safe a point to stop as any."
"Safe?" said Mick. "After we were almost eaten?"
"Very close to it I'd say, me boyo," said Colin cheerfully. "We'll camp in a tight circle, back to back, facing cheerfully. "We'll camp in a tight circle, back to back, facing year-old who had assumed leadership. "You can take the first watch, Mick. Your eyes look wide open already."
Chapter Seven Fellowship
The embers of the campfire were still sputtering as the orange glow of the coals turned to white ash. Mick and Charlie had found just enough dry dead root material in the dank cave to start the fire. Then they had piled on the damp stuff when Colin told them smoke would keep trolls at bay.
Charlie awoke, strangely, to breakfast aroma. Colin was stirring a pot that must have been in his pack. Charlie stretched, stood up and followed his nose to the only comfort in the emptiness of the cave.
