The edge of destiny, p.9
The Edge Of Destiny, page 9
Deke had run out of things to say. “Yeah, well I'm gonna go to my room, I guess.”
“Yeah, me too,” said Zacke. He stood and made a loud wince of pain. Deke grabbed for his arm, in support.
“Hey bro, I got you,” he helped Zacke down the hallway.
When they got to Zacke's door, he stared hard into Deke's eyes. “Thank you.”
* * *
Cody peered over the waist high stone wall. If felt cold to the touch like any other stone but had no clear signs of age – no cracks, no green moss, no crumbling stone dust, but it still seemed ancient. He looked farther over the wall, down into what must have been a valley or moat, or nothingness. It was covered in thick fog. The sky was no help – no sun, just gray. The central coast of California, his home, had lots of days when the thick marine layer covered the city, hung up in the sky, a thin gray coat of paint. This was different. The light seemed diffused perfectly. He scanned the vastness of gray but could detect no direct light source. That's makes no sense. The sun shines everywhere, doesn't it?
There were no landmarks beyond the walls. He looked to his left and right, identical stone walkways that lead off farther than he could see. It wasn't straight, it had some architectural detail – a few pillars occasionally, some steps down to break up the lines, and open doorways that must have led inside. But where?
He'd wandered into a few rooms, but there wasn't anything to find. Just empty stone rooms of various sizes.
His first thought was that he'd been roaming a castle, but if so, the architect was off. Some stone pathways led nowhere, some stairways led up to a stone wall, all the stone exactly the same color of gray. This is something weirder. When he wandered into a passageway from the main walkways, the interior hallways were lit – he just didn't know how. There were no light fixtures, not even torches. It was like looking at a painting where you couldn't see the source of light.
He'd imagined castles would have torches along the wall like in movies. A light existed, in half circles on the walls, like a torch was there, but it wasn't – just the light, no source.
“Don't try to figure it out.” a voice said on his right.
Cody yelped. He hoped it sounded manly, but he was pretty sure it hadn't. A woman stood about twenty feet away, down a corridor. She was a dark-skinned woman and spoke with a heavy accent. Cody couldn't tell from where. She wore jeans and sneakers, but a leather shirt, almost like armor. There was a short sword at her right side, and a gun holster on her left side.
“Did you just arrive?” she smirked. “We thought we felt someone new.”
“We? There are more people here? Where is here?”
“That is a matter of debate.” She motioned with her arm. “I'm Amina. Come, join the others.”
Cody's mind didn't alarm. He only just realized it, but there had been no sense of urgency. He'd almost been filled with calm. No, that wasn't it. When he arrived, it just felt stopped, like time didn't work here. He looked at the woman. Amina smiled. Cody thought, why not?
“You're young,” Amina said as she led him down yet another generic corridor.
“I guess,” he offered. “I'm Cody.”
“Young and polite. Rare.”
“This place. I'm trying…” He didn't know what he should and shouldn't say. He was too weary to care. “I'm looking for my father, David. Is he here?”
“Hmm. No David. What is his ancient name?”
“He doesn't have one – I think he's a new birth.”
“And you are his son? Very unusual for two family members to have powers.”
“So I've heard.” Cody thought, She used the word powers, not abilities. Must be Rageto. Though this thought strangely did not alarm him either.
She led him down a complicated set of rooms and corridors. Each place was lit by the same mysterious non-light, even as they descended. Or he thought they were going down. He kept thinking of an art book he'd seen where the stairways go every which way, even upside down, defying all physics. Of course, I did walk through a mirror to get here, so I probably shouldn't judge.
“There are a famous pair of brothers, of course. Both Rageto.” She cocked her head. “Very dangerous.”
Cody could hear talking from up ahead, just around another archway. “Yeah, the brothers. They won't be a problem anymore.”
The walked into the room, men and woman of all ages – a dozen that Cody could see – were talking in small groups.
Annis asked, “Oh, why is that? You've met the brothers, Sazzo and Caron, have you?”
“Yeah,” Cody answered, “my friends and I killed them a few months ago.”
The room fell silent.
A shout came from a large man who'd been taking a drink. “What did you say, boy?”
“We killed – umm, destroyed? The Rageto brothers a few months ago.”
“Lies! Many have boasted that they killed Sazzo and Caron.” But the man seemed hopeful. He put down his cup. “True deaths?”
“Well – one was a true death, one wasn't.”
A stout middle-aged woman marched across the room, “How was it done? Which one got a true death?”
“Sazzo, with a sword – a relic sword. Caron died by lightning storm.” Cody smiled as he said the last, thinking of his father's awesome ability. He was half talking to the woman and half scanning to make sure his dad wasn't one of them. He didn't see him.
A bellow came from the large man, a deep laugh that forced his head back and came from pure joy. A cheer rose too, from the whole room. “At least Sazzo is gone forever! Come, young slayer of ancient monsters. Let's sit on the ground and tell tales of dead kings.”
Another man bellowed, “Sazzo weren't no king.”
“It's Shakespeare, you dunce,” replied the man.
The man grumbled back, “Bah. Give me the classics. I'll take Cicero any day.”
“Stuck in the past. You probably knew Cicero back fifty bodies ago.”
“Nah. Dated his son,” a woman laughed.
“Don't crowd the boy all at once.” Cody's new friend wore glasses, but ones from a different century. “We'll have plenty of time to hear all his stories.”
Cody asked, “You will? Umm, why?”
The man looked down his glasses. “Because no one leaves here, my boy.”
Another woman offered, “But we don't seem to age, either, so there's that.”
Cody remembered all the corridors and the crazy art book with pictures of stairs that led nowhere. “You're all trapped here?”
“Afraid so,” offered the bespectacled man. “I'm Bevan. Who are you?”
“Cody,” he answered absently. This place has nothing to do with Dad. Why did I see this place in the mirror? thought Cody. “Wait! I may be able to help. Where's the nearest mirror?”
They all laughed.
Bevan offered, “No mirrors here.”
“There must be a way out,” said Cody, looking around.
“There's good news, though,” said Bevan. “Whoever designed this place has a never-ending supply of food – nothing fancy, but it never runs out.”
“The Elder that trapped us here, you mean,” called a nearby man.
“I've told you a thousand times, that makes no sense. Why would they trap us here then feed us?”
“The River provides!” announced a woman across the room. A few echoed the cheer.
“Screw the River!” yelled another. He was shouted down by the others, apparently an old, tired battle.
“You haven't told him the best part,” the man stood aside to reveal a large keg on its side with a wooden spigot. The man cranked it into a cup. He handed Cody the frothy liquid, who could smell what it was before he tasted it. Beer. He looked around suspiciously. No one stopped him, so he took a swig.
“Lotus eaters! The lot of you!” said Bevan.
“Are you in charge here?” asked Cody.
The room erupted in laughter again.
Bevan sneered. “Philistines, all. Actually, a few of you probably were literally Philistines!”
A few laughs, a few boos.
Bevan replied, “No, young man, I'm not in charge, But I should be.”
“Who are you, then?” Again, no adult stopped Cody, so he swigged some more beer.
“Can't you tell? Glasses, holding a book? I'm the scholar here.” Bevan became serious. “You said mirror before. Are you by any chance a mirror walker?”
The room hushed.
“I don't know. I got here through a mirror, so… I guess?”
Bevan rubbed his chin. “Rare. Rare. Usually requires magic. Are you Rageto, then?”
“No. Those guys are dicks,” stated Cody. A few laughs around the room. He noticed not all agreed and met him with angry faces.
“Careful, now. There are Rageto and Amartus here, even Sect,” Bevan said. “The River sometimes gives us gifts at just the right time. Tell me everything. Maybe you are the key to get us out of this place.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Hearts and Bones
The Uber driver, Chet, was confused.
The teens girls seemed fine, but the teenage boy was off somehow. He gave off a weird vibe. The adult man was clearly agitated, sitting next to him in the front seat. A fake sword sat on the floor between his legs, but none of the others were dressed up in costume. They were all stuffed into Chet's Toyota Prius, not made for four passengers. Chet glanced at the sword again and said, “Nice sword.”
He stared ahead. “We coss-play.”
“Cosplay,” corrected Lucas.
“Right,” agreed John but offered no other comfort to the driver.
Sea Valley was flanked by hills and mountains on both sides to the North and the South. The valley faced the west, the mighty Pacific Ocean, and the mountains and hill scape funneled the ocean breezes into the city. They were headed South now, into one of the few canyon roads that cut through those hills. Miguel Canyon Road was curvy, tree lined, and dotted with ranch properties and a single park. To the left ran a rail line that had seen better days. The only thing it served now was the diatomaceous earth plant called DioTerre.
They had just passed the plant on the left and the park on the right, headed for the address on the invitation. Past mile ten on the road, the ranches got bigger and farther between. They arrived at the address, and a locked gate met them. There was a call box, a silver box with a speaker, LED screen, and button.
John got out.
“Umm, do you want me to wait?” asked Chet.
John said, “No,” and shut the door.
“Thanks for the ride,” said Ariana. Lucas, Katie, and Ariana all got out. Chet left, his Prius silently departing back towards town.
John pressed the button. He spotted the camera and looked into it.
The gate buzzed and swung out toward them. John kept his sword out. They walked down the path. The house was visible after the first turn on the long the driveway. The entire path was well lit on both sides, visibility in all directions.
Katie asked, “Are you going to tell us what we're about to walk into?”
“I'm not sure,” said John.
“That's reassuring,” said Ariana. “John, you're doing that thing again when you tell us next to nothing and expect us to follow you.”
John stopped. “You're right. I'm sorry. The invitation. That phrase was code between… between someone I thought died a long time ago. If they've returned – here, now – I'm not sure what it means, but I must know.”
John walked ahead.
The three teens walked a few paces behind. Lucas at the rear, with his collapsed batons in hand.
“Okay, ancient Viking guy,” started Katie, “wanna fill us in?”
Lucas/Elgisard spoke in hushed, respectful tones, “I don't think we are in danger, but we must be on our guard. If it's who John thinks it is… well, I'm not sure what it all means.”
A large man stood on the porch. The house was only one story – a ranch style house, obviously very expensive. The man said nothing, just opened the door and nodded his head. He eyed John's sword but said nothing. Ariana recognized him as the man who gave them the invitations.
John entered the house. A bronze statue of a horse stood on the entrance table. John spotted fine objects everywhere – a real Ming vase, a Roman era marble statue, fine art on the walls from many eras. Music was playing.
A man stood in front of a mirror, just next to the high-end sound system. He turned off the music as he spotted John in the mirror.
John took the man in. He was thin, but fit, about forty. His clothes seemed tailored, expensive.
He turned and their eyes met. His eyes pierced John. There was no way to tell from outside appearance who lurked inside. John thought to himself, can it be?
“Explain this,” John held out the invitation.
“I am Julien Aarden. This is my home in California. I was born in Belgium and have houses wherever my work takes me. I own the mining company DioTerre just down the road, among many other businesses around the world.”
John said, “Thanks for the biography. How did you know about us? What do you want? Who are you, really?”
“I want to share with you, for I've been building this important knowledge a long time. I know many things. I invited you because it's time for truth.”
John thrust the paper in the air again and walked to the man. “And this? What do you know about this?”
“Don't you remember what it means?” Julien touched John's hand.
“That person died a long time ago,” John looked down, but he didn't remove Julien's hand. He twisted Julien's hand palm up. A small tattoo was there. e the sign of rebirth. John stared at Julien.
“You didn't come back to me,” John whispered.
Julien stroked John's arm. “I'm here now.”
He hugged Julien fiercely. Julien hugged back, just as hard.
When the long embrace ended, John took Julien's face in his hand. “Is this really you? How? Why didn't you…”
Before waiting for an answer, John kissed Julien deeply on the mouth.
“Oh. Okay,” said Katie, “wasn't expecting that.”
The kiss lasted a long time. They all looked around, awkwardly.
“Umm, sorry,” interrupted Ariana, “John, who is that?”
Elgisard just smiled, hoping this was a good omen for the following days.
The kiss finally ended. Julien and John were covered in tears.
Julien said, “It's me, my love.”
John took Julien's hand and turned to the others. “This is my wife, Unna.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Father and Son
“That's quite the tale, boy,” said Bevan.
“It's all true, umm…” Cody struggled. “I forgot your name. Sorry, I'm pretty tired.”
“Bevan. I'm surprised you remember anything after that adventure. Plus, you just met all us strangers. Can't expect you to remember all our names. So, Elder Zamma was killed by his own henchman, and Sazzo, no less. Thank the River that maniac is gone forever.”
“Which maniac – they were all crazy.”
“All of them!” Bevan laughed. “Yeah, the two names thing gets very confusing. Imagine going through a few dozen lifetimes, two names each? It must get ridiculous – especially if you remember most of those past selves. I don't know how they do it.”
“They?” asked Cody. “You mean, you aren't Amartus?”
“Me? No, I'm Sect. Name's been Bevan McDermott since I was born sixty-two years ago. These lot are mostly Amartus, a few Rageto.”
Cody looked at all the warriors. “Why aren't they fighting?”
The room laughed. The men and woman sat around, stood in groups, most eating and drinking. Cody thought of a Roman feast, everyone lounging on couches. This was sadder than that. They all just seemed bored.
Bevan said, “Oh, they fight all the time!”
The room cheered.
“Well, they used to.” Bevan sighed. “There's still a dust up or two, but most of us have been here so long, we're just bored and tired.”
Cody looked around to the others, “Why are all of you here?”
“Stupidity,” said a nearby man.
“True,” Bevan laughed. “We all got trapped here one way or the other. I've been here since 1997.”
Cody sputtered, “Holy crap. That's longer than I've been alive.”
“Never say that to old people. We hate that.”
“Sorry.”
Bevan said, “Doesn't feel like it though. Time works different here. This is the King's Road…”
“Bah!” He was cut off by jeers from those around him. “Fairy Tales!”
Bevan shouted back, “King's Road, I say!”
“Just old stories,” shouted someone else.
“King's Road, Elder's Peace, Mirror High Road, call it what you want.” Bevan stood, announcing, “It says it in the book Secrets of the Elders.”
“You wrote that book,” shouted a woman.
“Yes, but I'm a Sect scholar, so shut your trap.” Bevan sat.
“King's Road?” asked Cody, sipping some more beer.
“The King's Road is a place built by an ancient. Some called him the Raven King, but there's no evidence that he ever existed. Sect scholarship says this place was created by two Elders, one Rageto, one Amartus to make the peace.”
“Between the two sides?” Cody thought of the several battles he'd been in. “From what I've seen there's no peace.”
“True. Wasn't when I was out there, either. But everyone says they want peace. Long ago, they tried for it. It lasted for quite a while. There were lots of smaller wars – there always are – but the peace brought us the Renaissance. Not bad. The problem is that there are always troublemakers rebirthed out of the River.” Bevan scratched his head. “The Sect has spent it's entire history trying to figure out the logic of the River, it's ebbs and flows, the reason it spits out these monsters and heroes that wreck history.”
“I wish John was more help.” The beer tasted sour at the thought of John. “Seems like he only ever tells us half the story. I always feel like he's hiding something.”
“This is Pentoss we're talking about?”
