The Secret Key of Pythagorum

by Michele Angello

  “I guess we’d better get up there then.” With difficulty, he heaved himself up. Refusing the shoulder that Elias reluctantly offered, he pushed past him and limped toward the base of the hill.

  The climb up the hill was steep but covered in vegetation they could grasp and use to pull themselves up. Savaric gasped as he was forced to bend his knee deeply, which widened the gash. Fresh blood bloomed red on the dressing.

  Finally, after struggling uphill, they reached the cave. The opening was tall enough for a man to stand in. Vines and tufts of grass grew on the hillside next to it. Savaric reached the flat ground in front of the cave mouth and leaned against the hillside wall, out of breath and his chest heaving. He put his head back and rested for a moment.

  After a few minutes, he turned his body and looked toward the cave. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the rock there was different from the rest. Curious, he pulled away the overgrowth and saw a symbol carved into the rock. An area had been chipped away and smoothed out, and the outline of the cross with the loop on top had been carved in.

  “Look at this, Elias!” he said.

  “What?” Elias replied impatiently.

  “Just come and look, you grumpy oaf.”

  Elias walked over and looked at the wall. “What is that?”

  “I’m not sure. But the same symbol was on the map. Now I know we’re in the right place!”

  The boys rushed over to the cave and stepped inside. The gloom of the cave made them stop short and wait for their eyes to adjust to the dark.

  “What are we looking for?” Elias asked.

  “The riddle said the keys to the kingdoms.”

  “There’s nothing in here. It’s just a dusty old cave.”

  “You are so impatient. We have to look. Dig even, maybe.”

  “All right.” Elain shrugged.

  They climbed around the cave standing on ledges, peering in fissures and cracks, and moving aside rocks. Nothing looked like it had ever been moved or touched by human hands.

  “It looks like we are going to have to dig,” Elias said resignedly.

  “Yes, but with what?”

  Elias grabbed the fighting stick that Savaric had made for him a few days before. Turning it over in his hands, he began sharpening the blunt end to a point with his knife. Savaric watched him for a few moments then turned to his own stick and whittled it down to a point as well.

  After Elias finished his sharpening, he went to the center of the cave and scraped away at the dirt. After some of the dirt dislodged, he pushed it aside with his hands. They worked until the light outside faded.

  “I’ll go find some wood for a fire. In no time, we won’t be able to see the hands of the gods in front of our faces,” Elias said.

  “Right. I’ll keep working,” Savaric replied. He adjusted his body so that his injured knee stretched out to one side and his other knee stayed bent, giving him room to dig on the ground right in front of him.

  Before long, Elias was back with some wood and tinder. As he worked to get the fire going, he remained very quiet.

  Suddenly he said, “Do you know that feeling, the one that someone is watching you?”

  Savaric stopped digging and looked at him. “Yes.”

  “When I was gathering wood, it felt like that. Like someone who hated me was staring at me.”

  “Did you see anyone?”

  “No. I kept looking up and around, but I saw no one.”

  Savaric hoisted himself up and walked over to the mouth of the cave. He pressed himself to one side and looked across the meadow below. Nothing moved, not even the grasses from a gust of wind. No birds chirped or flew about. All looked eerily quiet and still.

  “It feels like the dead are about to rise from the ground and all the land is stopping to listen for them,” Savaric said quietly. “We’ll have to keep watch tonight for sure.”

  They took turns scraping and moving the dirt to one side. It was hard work, especially without the proper tools to dig with. Hours later, as Elias scraped the ground, he hit something hard. He used his hands to brush aside the dirt. Through the crumbles and clods of brown dirt, something shone white.

  “Look, Savaric, I’ve hit something.”

  Savaric walked over and dropped to the ground beside him. Together they feverishly moved the dirt aside more quickly. More and more of the white shone through, but as the boys realized what they were seeing, their movement slowed, then stopped.

  It was bone.

  CHAPTER 17

  The boys looked at each other, the horror of what lay before them showing on their faces.

  “It’s bone. Bone!” Elias burst out after a long silence.

  “Do you think it’s man or beast?” Savaric replied.

  “We are digging up a grave,” Elias whispered. He backed away from the disturbed dirt until he ran into the wall of the cave.

  “Maybe not…”

  “We can’t dig up a grave. We’ll be cursed.”

  “But we don’t know what it is. It could be an animal that lived in this cave and died here,” Savaric said.

  “A grave, a grave,” Elias muttered. “I can’t dig up the dead. I won’t.”

  “But we have to get the key. It has to be here. Otherwise we’ve come all this way for nothing,” Savaric protested.

  “You do it then. I’m not touching it. I won’t be cursed.”

  Savaric went back to the hole in the cave floor and started moving more dirt away from the bone.

  Elias whispered, “No wonder it was so silent in the meadow. Somehow the birds and the animals and the wind know what terrible things we are doing in here.”

  “Shut up, Elias.”

  “Actually, what you’re doing in here.”

  “Shut up even more, Elias. I almost have it clear.”

  Savaric pushed over more dirt. The round smooth surface of the bone showed through its shroud of dirt.

  “What is it?”

  Savaric had lived on a farm long enough to know exactly what this was and wasn’t.

  “It’s not an animal. It’s a person. This is a hip bone.” He sat back onto the ground hard.

  “What do we do now?” Elias asked.

  “I don’t know.” He got up and went over to the fire. “I do know that I’m cold and tired.”

  Savaric stoked the fire to get it to roar higher. “And I’m hungry.” He pulled food out of his bundle and ate in silence, handing food to Elias when he came over to sit by the fire.

  They ate in silence, staring at the fire, their backs to the mouth of the cave, feebly protecting themselves as if the bones could shake off their tomb of dirt and get up and walk.

  “The riddle said nothing about a grave, the dead, or anything like that. I don’t understand this.”

  “So what did the riddle say?” Elias probed.

  “The threading of the needle of Snowdonia and the sight of the Cave of Thor yield the keys to the kingdoms.”

  “The sight of the Cave of Thor,” Elias repeated slowly. “The sight.”

  “Could it be by or in the body’s eyes? Could that be the sight?” Savaric said, thinking aloud. He walked over to where the head of the body would be and without hesitation started digging a new hole.

  “By the gods, Savaric! Are you really going to dig it up?”

  “No.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “I’m digging around it and to it. But I’m not digging it up. I’ll leave the bones there. That way I’m not digging it up and disturbing the grave,” he said, his words coming in spurts, interrupted by his digging efforts.

  “Hmmpph. I doubt the dead would agree about if they were being disturbed or not. My guess would be yes.” Elias settled back and tended to the fire.

  An hour later, Savaric had dug through layers of packed dirt to reach the skull. Grimacing, he cleared the dirt away from the empty eye sockets and mouth filled with dirt. Nothing rested there but earth and bone. Growing more frantic, he widened the hole a
nd looked all around the head. Again, nothing. Exhausted, he threw himself back and lay on the pile of dirt.

  “Nothing. It’s not here. Elias, what do we do now?”

  There was no reply. Savaric looked up from his position on the floor. He was alone in the cave.

  “Elias! Where are you?”

  No reply.

  Savaric got up and walked to the mouth of the cave. Elias stood to one side of the cave, looking out across the hills. “There you are; you scared me. Answer me when I call you, you dolt.”

  Elias didn’t respond to the jagged tone of Savaric’s voice. He just pointed above his head. “There’s another symbol. Just like on the other side.”

  “Wonderful. I can’t move another muscle. I’m going to sleep.”

  “Right. Did you find anything?”

  “No,” Savaric said dejectedly.

  “Right. I’ll take first watch.”

  By the time he said those last words, Savaric had already lain down and wrapped himself in his cloak. Within seconds he was in a deep sleep.

  They exchanged watch duties in the middle of the night. In the morning, Savaric leaned against the hillside watching the sun rise over the hills opposite the cave. When enough sunlight had come out, he stood and looked for the other symbol that Elias had talked about. Sure enough, there it was. The curious symbol lined up at the same height from the ground and distance from the cave mouth as the other symbol. He pushed aside the vines to see if there were any other carvings, but found nothing. Sighing deeply, he sat back down on the ground and idly traced the shapes into the loose dirt with a stick. Over and over again, he traced the shape like this, , without even thinking about what he was doing.

  Then he turned the symbol on its side like this, , still idly tracing multiple symbols over and over. He stopped and stared at the ground. “The sight of Thor. The sight of Thor,” he mumbled.

  Suddenly, he stopped what he was tracing and stared at the ground. The two symbols placed together looked like two eyes. The symbols were the sight of the Cave of Thor! Savaric smacked his head with his palm. If the symbols were carved on the hill on each side of the cave, they must be “looking” across the valley to other hills. Savaric walked over to the center of the mouth of the cave, which was centered between the symbols. Straight ahead, a small peak jutted slightly above the others.

  “Elias, Elias! Wake up. I know where it is,” he said excitedly over his shoulder.

  “What?” Elias said sleepily from his nest of cloak.

  “I know where it is. Come on, wake up.” Savaric walked over and nudged him with his foot.

  “Where, then?” he mumbled.

  “The symbols—they are the eyes of Thor! The ones carved outside the cave.”

  Elias bolted upright, suddenly much more awake. “Really? Then what do they look at?”

  “There’s a bare peak exactly opposite. Come look.”

  Elias bounded up and went to the cave entrance. “Yes, I see it now. That must be it!”

  After a hurried breakfast and unceremoniously pushing the dirt back over the old grave, Elias clambered down the valley and up the hills. Savaric watched from the cave to make sure he stood on the right hill. After waving him back and forth a bit, he hobbled over to where Elias stood.

  “This cut is getting worse,” he muttered as he struggled up the incline to where Elias waited.

  “Where should we dig?” Elias replied, ignoring him.

  “At the very top. That looks to be right here,” he said, looking around the area. He sat down on the ground abruptly, trying to keep from bending his knee as he did so. “It’s your turn to dig.”

  Elias shrugged and started scraping at the soil at the top of the peak. Within a few minutes, he hit a rock. He dug around the rock and lifted it out of the hole and to one side. Beneath it, under a thin layer of dirt, lay a small wooden box. The boys looked at each other, their eyes wide. Savaric pushed the dirt aside with his hands and reached for the box. As he cleared the dirt away from the sides of the box and tried to pry it out, he heard a distant rumbling noise. Excited with the find, he ignored the sound at first. But the rumbling grew louder, and he glanced up to see what it was. He looked for a few moments and saw nothing. Then he saw something that made his heart drop. A rider on a black horse galloped across the barren hills at full speed. Savaric would know that horse anywhere. The sheriff rode astride Fiona, coming straight for them—again.

  CHAPTER 18

  The hilltops around them had no vegetation taller than a blade of grass. The rocks were set deep into the ground with nothing protruding for them to even duck behind. Nowhere to hide. Savaric rolled to his stomach and pulled at the box in earnest.

  “Help me quick! We’ve got to get this out!” he exclaimed.

  “Leave it, there’s no time. We’ve got to hide. Somewhere! Where? There’s no place to hide,” Elias said, panicking.

  “Just help me. Now!”

  Shrieking a bit, Elias dropped to his knees and helped Savaric jostle the box back and forth until the dirt’s grip loosened. “I can’t go back,” Elias cried. A few seconds later the box lay in their hands.

  “Help me up.” Savaric put his hand out to Elias, who pulled him up from the ground. He glanced at the direction the sheriff rode from, getting closer by the second. The two turned and ran down the hill in the opposite direction. Scampering, hobbling, and leaping from rock to rock, hearts beating hard and fast. Savaric cried out in pain as he broke open the wound on his knee from bending his knee too far. He fell to the ground. They were nowhere close to the marginal safety of the forest below, where they could at least find bushes to hide behind.

  “Get up!” Elias shouted.

  “I can’t. I can’t run like this.”

  Suddenly Savaric remembered his greatest weapon. “Follow me.” He rolled over a few feet to a small depression in the hillside.

  “This won’t hide us. We’re in plain sight. What are you doing?”

  “For once, Elias, would you just shut up and trust me?”

  Savaric reached into his cloak and moved the pine needles to the pocket where they touched the skin on his chest. As soon as the needles touched him, he disappeared from sight. Elias screamed. Savaric pulled his cloak away from his chest and popped back into view again. He put his fingers to his lips and beckoned Elias closer. His mouth gaping, Elias stumbled forward. Savaric threw his cloak around him and pulled him to the ground. Elias stared at him from under the cloak and started to speak. Shushing him, Savaric pointed outside the cloak. Elias put his head down and shoved his fist into his mouth to stop the sobs from the intense fear that filled him to his very core.

  As they listened, they heard the thundering sound of Fiona’s hooves come to a stop at the top of the hill. She began to pick her way down the side of the hill, harrumphing as she went, placing her feet carefully to avoid the loose soil and rocks. Savaric and Elias listened in terror. Elias put his hand down on the ground to steady himself, and for a second his hand wandered outside the protective barrier of the cloak. Savaric saw it and pulled his hand in. They couldn’t tell exactly where Fiona and her master were, only that the sound of her hooves on the rock grew closer and closer.

  When it seemed they were about to be stepped on, the horse moved aside to firmer ground just a few feet away from them. She paused, sniffing the air loudly. The sheriff nudged her on by clicking his tongue. The pair in black continued down the hill, then the sounds of their movement faded into the distance.

  Savaric peeked out of the cloak, and when he thought the sheriff had ridden far enough away not to hear their footsteps on the rock, they made their way down the hill. Alternately peeking and walking, they stayed hunched over so that the cloak grazed the ground and the needles touched Savaric’s chest.

  When they reached the edge of the forest, they collapsed to the ground. Muscles aching from their stooped walk, they quickly stretched out their backs and arms, then hurried over to hide behind a large tree.

  �
�Do you see him?” Elias whispered.

  “No, do you?”

  “No.”

  They watched and waited for a while. They moved to a different tree with a different vantage point to try to see better.

  “Still nothing?” Elias said.

  “Yes.”

  “Then maybe you’d like to explain to me how, by all the gods, you never told me that you had a magic cloak?” Elias spat furiously.

  “You didn’t need to know. And it’s not magic, it’s just—”

  “Not magic! Need to know! What are you blathering about?” Elias said.

  “I’m not a warlock. Nana said so. And I didn’t need to use my cloak, so I didn’t tell you about it.”

  “Warlock!” Elias shouted as he thrashed about, trying to push away from Savaric.

  “Shhh,” Savaric said, pulling him back. Elias opened his mouth to shout again. Savaric wrestled with him and ended up on top, pinning him. He clamped his hand over Elias’s mouth.

  “Listen. You have to be quiet or we’ll both end up in the lockup with no one to get us out. My Nana did something to me when I was born.” Elias struggled to get free. “Now when I have pine needles from a special tree on my skin, it makes me invisible. I’m not magical or a wizard. People in my village always thought that I … my whole family … was strange. I never had any friends. I didn’t want you to … do that either, so I didn’t tell you.”

  Savaric sat back and took his hand off Elias’s mouth, which clamped into a thin line.

  “Get off me,” he said tightly.

  Savaric released him.

  “You didn’t trust me, did you?”

  Savaric stayed silent for a while. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Do you trust me now?”

  Savaric shrugged. “I guess I have no choice now. You know everything.” He peeked furtively around the tree they hid behind.

  Elias punched him in the ribs. Savaric let out a huge breath and doubled over. He said nothing to Elias for hours as they waited, as motionless and quiet as possible, for the cover of darkness to move from their hiding place.

  Hours later, it was Elias who finally broke the stony silence. “And what is your plan now?”