by W. Peever
"Mmmm, delicious, judging by the smell I mean. Bacon?" Charlie looked at the crispy strips sizzling on the embers.
Colin nodded his good morning to Charlie and burst out laughing. "Yeah, that's right; I packed it for our picnic lunch." He sniggered sarcastically, disbelieving of how naive kids were these days brought up in their sheltered, suburban lives. "You might call it ratatouille—the French delicacy—if it makes you feel better."
"Huh?" Just then Mick came lumbering up behind them. "You don't mean…?"
"Did either of you see a supermarket on the way? Yes, it's rat. I went hunting this morning. No need to thank me."
Charlie couldn't help himself. His squeamish side got the better of him, as his face scrunched up involuntarily into one big pucker. "Better not tell Bailey and Tillie. We need them to eat. I ate hearty last night."
Colin laughed again. "Spoken like a true leader."
Mick was starving, and willing to try anything served up, as long as it was dead. "Well, wee Charlie…if it looks like bacon, and smells like bacon…" he said, shoveling a piece to his mouth. First cooling the dangling piece of carcass with a few puffs, he chomped down on it. An expression of warm satisfaction spread across his face.
"You better drink some coffee—just grounds and hot water."
"Right—cowboy style…"
"Ya, let's pretend we're all cowboys, roughing it like campfire girls—no filter, no sugar, not even a pretty pattern dribbled in cream on top. Nothing to fear but a herd of cattle farting."
Colin's sarcasm wasn't lost on Charlie. He wondered what was behind it as he choked on more than the bitter grounds stuck in his throat. "Takes some getting used to," was all he would say, handing the mug over to Mick, who slugged it down.
"It'll keep you alert. And from the sounds that kept me up last night, we'll need it."
The two said nothing, wisely allowing Colin to continue in his current mood. Something was eating at him.
"Ya…there are more than trolls down here."
"What else, do you think?" inquired Charlie, all business now—maybe learning something from Colin's manner—and clipping his sword back onto his belt.
"Dunno." Colin said, glimpsing Charlie's sword for the first time. "Nasties to be sure, and not native to Midgard. Let me see your sword. There's something about it…pure silver, inlaid with gold around the hilt." He ran his hands over the weapon, caressing every inch of it till he came to the empty slot where the diamond had been. "What was here?"
"This." Charlie showed him the blue sapphire diamond in his ring. "It belonged to Mer…"
"Merlin! So this is…"
The name refused to come out at first—the first time the other two had seen Colin excited about anything, even enthused. He backed away, holding the sword out at arms' length. "Excalibur!"
Charlie nodded.
"My Gods…it's just as beautiful as the paintings." Colin looked at Charlie with different eyes, in wonderment. "Do you know the prophesy behind this sword?" He caught his breath. "The waiting of the Templar Order is almost over, the reunification of our two factions!" In his excitement he had woken the girls, stumbling over to the fire pit. Bailey grabbed the coffee out of Mick's hands and took a sip in aid of her dry mouth. "Oh, my Gods is right…"
"Prophesy?" mused Charlie. "You better tell me the worst. Avery said something about it before we came down the tunnel. What's this reunification?"
"Hard to explain," said Colin, who turned abruptly and began packing up.
"Dude, you can't just drop a bomb like that and walk away! If I'm wrapped up in some great prophesy I need to know."
Colin thought. "Just eat the…the bacon, drink the coffee and let's get going." He clipped his cloak onto his neck and finally looked up again. All stood just staring at him, waiting.
"UGH! Fine!" Colin heaved a great sigh. "No one outside the Templar knows this. If anyone did you'd be in serious danger, mate! Are you sure you trust everyone here?"
"Within reason, but never with my favorite comics," Charlie joked weakly. Seeing Colin's dubious reaction, he mustered all his earnestness. "With my life!—that's all."
"Well that's what you're wagering." Colin sized up the three companions one by one, gazing sternly into their eyes, and then turned back to Charlie. "Fine, it's your skin."
"Hey, thanks for the vote of confidence." Bailey said.
Tillie couldn't contain herself either. "I'll say—real charmer."
"Hey, I only looked into your eyes. It's not as if they're the windows to your soul or anything. And this one —Tillie, is it?—wears so much makeup it's hard to make out anything at all."
Tillie just smiled prettily in defiance.
Colin continued, "It is written…"
"…Little Grasshopper…"
Mick, well versed in pop culture, laughed at the joke. The older boy just looked at Tillie, thoroughly confused. "…that a descendant of Merlin whose ability transcends the worlds will reunite the kingdoms of light, and usher in the Second Age of the Gods."
"Well, I get the first part—I'm The Jumper. The secret must be the lost language that makes the runes work. But the Age of the Gods?"
Colin nodded. "The Gods are going to return to Earth. If the Order can use the old runes again they will be very powerful and strong allies for the Asgard Gods."
"You don't mean…" Bailey could not say it.
"They'll bring their war to the Nine Kingdoms. Everyone will choose a side to fight on, a serious clash of good and evil! We are going to war, my friends."
"Wait…WAIT!" Charlie shouted. He was pacing from one side of the tunnel to the other, astounded at Colin's warriorlike machismo. "Somehow we bring about the greatest war this planet has ever seen? And you're licking your lips?"
"Well, I hope it's us who get the drop on them, because if the Vanari win it will be them who find the language…and you can kiss your free world goodbye!"
Charlie threw up his hands, lost for words. He scuffed his way over to the far wall and sat down on the cave floor, a billow of dust surrounding him in the torchlight. "Like I didn't have enough on my plate." Bailey sat next to him. "I need to find the crystals for the Order, save my dad from some frozen prison and now I am the harbinger of The Apocalypse—and if I don't get to the Babel tablets first, the Dark Side wins!"
"You're not in this alone, mate," said Mick. "You have my staff."
"How very fellowship-of-the-rings, Mick." said Bailey, teasing. "And my bow! We're with you, Charlie."
Tillie nodded her agreement. "You know you have my bow too, Charlie," she said with a sly smile.
Colin was more reserved, seeing what he'd seen of Charlie. "You're the chosen descendant of Merlin, so I speak for the Order of the Templar in pledging loyalty to you."
Charlie looked up at his friends who'd circled him, took a deep breath and stood up. "One step at a time then. Let's get out of this tunnel!"
Mick poured the rest of the coffee on the fire.
"Just like the cowboys," needled Colin, unable to resist.
Before long they were packed up, torches relit and weapons in hand, resuming their trek through the darkness of the tunnel.
"Any clue what time it is?" Mick asked after a while.
Colin shook his head. "No way of knowing without the sky. We slept for maybe five hours. I'm guessing early morning but it's easy to lose track of time down here."
All came to a halt as the torchlight illuminated an earthen wall in front of them. They moved carefully closer to discover their path branched off to the right and left. Each entryway had an ancient stone slab above it, engraved with runes.
Charlie turned to Colin. "Which way?"
"Hold on." said Colin, studying the runes. "I don't remember my dad telling me about a fork on the path. This tunnel connects our church to Boston, has since the 1600s when Salem was settled—only used in the Witch Trials and American Revolution, and nothing about a fork."
"Maybe the trolls added their own paths over the years,"
suggested Bailey.
"No. Do you see the runes above the doors?— Templar Runes. I can translate them. The one that looks like a B is Beorc, family or home; the next, like an R, is Raidho, to travel; the Z-like rune is Eihwaz, protection. Put them together: Travel here to the place that protects like a home. I guess this is it."
"Look at the other door though, that strange X. It looks just like the one on Merlin's, er, my, ring." Charlie said, holding it up to Colin.
"There's an X on the ring? The same X on the doorway here?"
Colin was starting to worry Charlie a bit. "Yes, it's an X with what looks like a hook on the right hand section. Weird—right? So what does that mean?"
"I have no clue. That's what I was trying to figure out. The Templar wouldn't waste time digging tunnels. If this goes to Boston, then this other must go somewhere just as important. The fact no one's ever mentioned it tells me it's a high secret of the Templar Council."
"But I thought you said you could read Templar runes," pondered Tillie, moving closer to the hooked X above the door. She stared at it, almost in a trance.
"I can…I mean a regular X is Gifu, gift or fellowship —but without the hook. Yet it's on your ring. Unless…" He stood next to Tillie staring up at the rune.
"Unless what?" asked Charlie, losing patience with both of them.
"It's like they've combined two runes…but they would never have done that—way too dangerous!" He grabbed Charlie's arm. "Let me see your rune!" Examining it for a moment, Colin gave his conclusion. "Unless they didn't create a rune! This could be from the original runes of power, from the lost language. Merlin made the ring and knew the language!"
"What do you think it says, then?"
"I think it's a combination of Gifu and Sigel—the power of fellowship that brings Victory. There is so much power here." Colin was out of breath, and sat down.
Charlie wouldn't let him rest, not now. "You mean like the power to travel to the other worlds and alternative dimensions? That's the kind of power the ring has."
Colin's head was in a whirl. Everything was happening so fast. All the training, his whole childhood; could this really be his destiny? So many generations of Templar had come before, and none had been this close.
"Colin?" Mick shook his shoulder.
Colin came back. "We need to get Charlie to safety! Nothing else matters. If we lose him we lose everything!" He grabbed Charlie by the arm and began to drag him forward.
"Wait." Tillie's voice was almost a whisper.
"Come on, let's go." Colin shouted over his shoulder to the others.
"WAIT!" Tillie screamed. They all froze.
"What's this now? There's no time to wait," said Colin with an air of authority that the three years he had on the others granted him.
"Make time!" Tillie's face was flushed. "This rune," she pointed up to the hooked X, and took a few breaths to compose herself. "I've seen it before, and not just on Charlie's finger. I've been staring at it all this time, trying to remember where I saw it; it's been on the edge of my memory out of reach. Just now it came to me. I saw it on the Templar's wrist in my vision, and it's on the astrolabe."
The others looked at her. Colin took the carefully bundled package out of his pack, and unwrapped it. The glint of gold reflected brilliantly in the torchlight. He examined the device and, after a minute, looked up. "She's right, and…guys…the astrolabe is glowing." All ran to his side to see it.
"Look at the dials!" yelled Bailey, attempting to support Tillie in her strange, aggressive mood. "They're all pointing towards the hooked X entrance! And the rune in the direction box is the same hooked X as the door."
"Didn't Avery say it would show the path to the Babel tablets?" recalled Mick. "Do you think?"
"It doesn't matter." Colin was all urgency, turning to Charlie. "We need to get you to Boston. We'll tell the Templar about it and they will decide what to do."
"You don't get it!" screamed Tillie. Her outbursts were so out of character everyone knew instinctively to take close notice of her. "You've had this device forever! And only now has it revealed its secrets, now that Charlie has the ring! And I've had my visions! That you, Colin, lead us down the tunnel! It's us…our fellowship! Like the ring said —it has to be us! We need to go down this tunnel!—to find the Tablets before the Vanari!"
Charlie nodded. "Ok, Tillie. I agree…"
Tillie smiled and brushed Charlie's hand with hers.
"But we need a consensus on this." Charlie continued. "We have no idea what we're getting into, but I bet it won't be a pleasure trip."
Mick punched Charlie's shoulder playfully. "I guess no point in Tillie having her special vision if we don't trust it. But it's down to you, mate."
Bailey nodded her approval to Mick. "Like I'm going to let you get into this much trouble without me."
"So Colin…coming with us, or going for help and warning the Knights Templar?
The older boy kicked a stone hard with his boot. "Damn it! Like I can leave your side! I have no choice." He picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "A fellowship it is! But a fellowship with a leader…at least, field commander. I'm the only one here who knows the terrain, so it stands to reason it's me. If we do this you need to listen to everything I say, and snap to it without hesitation. Got it?"
The others looked at each other, came to a group decision (able to read each other quickly now) and nodded in unison, not sure and not daring to think about what they were agreeing to. After about an hour walking the chosen path the brown earthen walls of the cave turned into long granite slabs, and the tunnel opened up, doubling in size.
Charlie was first to be impressed. "Wow! This is not bad workmanship for the sixteen hundreds! Especially seeing as they made everything out of wood back then!"
"Maybe here in America," Colin corrected his charge, "but these tunnels were made by Templar, the men who oversaw construction of the great cathedrals of France— and they were built hundreds of years before these tunnels."
"I've been thinking about the date of the tunnels mate," said Mick. "I think you're off a bit. You assumed they were made around the time Salem was founded, but what if they were built before that? I mean, if these are the clues we need to follow to the tablets, then this tunnel was made by Henry Saint Claire. Remember, he was the only one who knew how to get to the tablets, so these tunnels must have been constructed in the 1300s!"
"You're probably right," Colin conceded. "Another Templar cover-up to protect the secret. It doesn't change anything, though. We still have to get through it."
"Crap!" Mick cussed.
"Eh?" Colin was a little shocked.
"Crap!" reiterated Mick.
"Dude, seriously what's going on?" asked Charlie.
"Crap! Look!" He pointed at Charlie's feet. "You're stepping in it too!"
Charlie looked down and to his disgust saw his grayblue Sketchers covered in slimy green and brown crud. The odor wafting up was something akin to putrid meat and raw sewage.
"Everyone hug the wall!" shouted Colin, as he drew his sword from its scabbard. The others unholstered their weapons in response and ran for the wall.
"What's wrong?" Tillie squeaked.
"Trolls…marking the approaches to their den—they can't be far away."
"Troll turd!" exclaimed Mick. Examining the bottom of his shoe prompted a question of idle curiosity. "Where the heck did they get corn all the way down here?"
"Doesn't really matter, does it." Colin acknowledged flatly. "And keep your voices down—they might have already detected us. Chances are, we'll have to walk right through their den. And seeing it's late morning they'll all be there."
"Well, then I guess we'll be midget troll hunting." Mick chortled as low as he could.
"I want to avoid that. They may be small but they're quick to use that powder of theirs—and it would be over in a cloud of dust. But there's no other way."
Charlie looked at Tillie and she nodded back.
; "There might be another way." Tillie's voice was soft in breaking the news to Colin. "You see, I have more than one ability. Beside my visions I can turn invisible, with any person I touch…I've just never done it with so many people before."
"Ah ha…perfect. They'll smell us, but if we hug the wall we should make it through." Colin smiled at Tillie. "I understand why you're reluctant to tell anyone. But never mind. After today your secret's safe with me." He held out his hand and grasped her petite fingers in his strong grip. The others followed suit and soon all blipped out of sight.
"I've never done this with torches before…" Tillie said aloud. "Mick, let go and see if our torch light is still viable?"
Mick reluctantly released his grip of Bailey's hand. All he saw was complete darkness. Hands outstretched, Mick fumbled in the dark searching for Bailey's hand. Instead he found her backside.
Bailey yelped. "Not my hand, Mick."
"Alright, you two." said Colin, anxious now to impose discipline. "Now let's go." They took hands and once again blipped out of sight, knowing that not even the lights they held could be seen by anyone who was not holding their hands. They continued down the cobblestoned hallway, the air going from stale to musky to putrid, until finally they saw the orange glow of a campfire.
"So, they're camped right in the middle of the path." Colin noted. "It makes sense. We must be near the exit. I'd wager there's a town above us, where they can get an unsuspecting Fido or two for their supper."
The fellowship pushed their shoulders against the dank stonewall and inched their way toward the troll encampment. The overpowering odor reminded Charlie of the stench of decomposing hay and cow manure that wafted in the summer air from the stables near Adler's Farm. Soon they were close enough to see the trolls; seven of them, all sleeping on stolen straw around a campfire that still had a giant rat roasting on the spit. They were hideous, the closest one maybe olive green under dirt caked on him. His nose was bulbous and his whole face had warts scattered across it like pebbles on a beach. The creatures were very short, and might have been mistaken for young children if their breadth wasn't almost as much as their height. They wore dirty, tattered clothes patched together from what looked to be a wide variety of found fabrics. The entire scene would have been quite comical if it was not for the fact that these trolls would love nothing more than to eat them.
