Sacred: Eslura's Calling Read online

  Reagan stared into the twilight that was slowly descending on them and took another bite of the meat. “Hmm.”

  “The name’s Tab,” the woman said. Reagan looked up. She had already figured the woman would never tell her. Finally, something. “And I’m here to protect you.”

  Reagan gagged on the bite of rabintail in her throat. “Protect me?” she said through a cough.

  “Good. You’re not deaf.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  Tab scoffed. “But you might be an idiot.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That stone—the one you wear so carelessly around your neck—do you know what it is?”

  Reagan lifted the stone off her chest and brushed its surface with her fingers. “An amethyst?”

  “Wrong,” Tab said. She stood and walked around the fire, holding Reagan’s leash in her hand. “So very wrong. It’s almost embarrassing.”

  “Well, then what is it?” Reagan sighed. She was sick of the woman’s insults over a stupid stone trinket. Her father had given it to her when she was a baby and that was all she cared about.

  “That is the Eyearke stone.”

  “The what?” Reagan furrowed her brows.

  “You think I’m wrong, do you? Think I’m crazy? Well, good, then you can join the rest of ’em. Those fools claimed its existence was a myth!”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Reagan thought the woman may have spent a little too much alone time in the desert.

  “Well, then that’s why I’m here. I was on my way back from Treenode when I saw the stone.” She took another bite, chewed and swallowed. Then she pointed her chin at the necklace. “You can’t just be wearing it around like it’s…an amethyst or whatever.”

  “Well, why don’t you just take it?” Reagan suggested. “Then you wouldn’t need to protect me anymore.” Her stomach growled and she forced herself to take another bite.

  “Ain’t that easy,” Tab said. She ripped a chunk of meat off her bone with her teeth, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. “If anyone other than you touches that stone, they’re dead.”

  Dead? Surely the woman was a nutcase, Reagan thought as she tried to chew through the tough meat. But, then again, she could not remember anyone else having touched the stone. “So, what? You’re going to keep me as your prisoner forever?”

  “Not forever,” Tab said. “We’ll deliver it to the Rulers during the High Moon Festival. In the wrong hands, that thing could bring the end of Eslura.”

  “I thought you said anyone but me who touches it would die?” Reagan thought she had the woman cornered with that one. “So how could it possibly fall into the wrong hands?”

  “One way, which won’t happen while you’re under my guard,” Tab said. “Someone kills you.”

  “You didn’t kill me. You don’t want its power?”

  “No. As much as I hate you having it, I do not want to kill you. Its power was not intended for me.”

  “Who was it intended for?”

  “The Sacred Head, the true descendent of Aezaros,” Tab said.

  Bea. Reagan recalled their conversation in the not-so-tiny house. Bea was the Sacred Head, at least according to the lizard guy. “All right, then, where is this festival?”

  “Galecrest,” Tab said.

  “Perfect,” Reagan said under her breath. That’s where Bea’ll be too.

  “What?” Tab said.

  “Nothing.” Reagan shook her head. The woman could believe whatever she wanted about the stone as long as she brought her to Galecrest. To Bea.

  “Whatever.” Tab rolled her eyes. “First light. Like I said, it’s too dangerous at night. Lie down. You’ll need the sleep.”

  11

  Bellbour's Strait

  Barnaby turned just short of the bridge before the statue and ducked into the shadows of an alley near the growing line of people gathering to cross. Two Sacred Guards stood underneath Bellbour’s massive body, searching through every cart and under each cloak on their way to mainland Eslura.

  He glanced up at the giant statue. Bellbour Polindrad, Eslura and Ovallia’s first Sacred Ruler of the Book of Water. Barnaby had heard his tale several hundred more times than he would have wished—Pemadee insisted that he know the history of his own land, even if he may never get the chance to explore it. Many moons ago, when Aezaros had retrieved the stone from the heavens, she gave the power of the elements to the Rulers. Bellbour received the power of water, and thus created his island paradise, set aside from the mainland where the Book would be safe inside the walls of the lighthouse.

  “What’s all the holdup for?” a new member joined the line and complained while parking his cart. Barnaby thought for a moment that the fuzzy mop on the man’s head was just a product of bad bedhead, but it shifted and turned into a full-grown cat.

  “The Olphin’s escaped,” a woman pushing a two-wheeled car announced. “They’re checking to see if anyone’s trying to smuggle it to the mainland.” Her eyes fell down to his cart, which was full of red fruits the size of his head.

  “Escaped?” The man furrowed his brow beneath the cat and glanced over toward the building where Barnaby stood in the shadow. For a moment, Barnaby was sure the man saw him. He adjusted his scarf and prepared to run. If he went now, he could make it to the other end of the alley by the time the man alerted the Sacred Guard.

  “Well,” the man said. “They’d better hurry up and catch him. I’ve got no time for this.”

  “Yeah, tell that to everyone else in line,” the woman said, shaking her head. She pushed her cart forward a step.

  Crossing the bridge was out of the question. Barnaby would have better luck swimming through the Bellbour’s Strait than getting by those Guards—but even that was a certified death sentence; its rapids were far too strong for even the fish.

  “Peppersnakes,” Barnaby sighed and sunk down the side of the wall till his bottom hit the ground. He looked up at the sky between the tall buildings and his stomach grumbled. “What have I gotten myself into?” For a moment, he wished he had just stayed at Pemadee’s shop. By now, he would be cooking the old man’s dinner. Nothing too fancy, of course. Barnaby was never that handy with a skillet, but the thought of food fueled his hunger.

  “Barnaby.” His imagination had exceeded his expectations; he could almost hear Pemadee yelling his name to check if he had set the dining table. Yes, Mr. Pemadee. I’ve even filled the glasses three-quarters up like you asked.

  “Barnaby.” Yes Mr. Pem— Barnaby heard the scraping of wooden wheels from the far end of the alley.

  “Peppersnakes! Mr. Pemadee!” Barnaby lurched up from his spot. The old man’s hair was slick with sweat and he panted profusely as he rolled his way toward Barnaby. Mauz sat in his lap, tongue hanging limp on his pale-green chest as Barnaby had always told him not to do.

  “Mauz!” he exclaimed and ran over.

  “Gods, Barnaby,” Pemadee said when he reached his side. He clutched Barnaby’s shoulders and pulled him into an embrace as he caught his breath. “I’d just about given up looking for you.” He looked up into Barnaby’s eyes. “You sure have given Ovallia a whirlwind of trouble today, haven’t you?”

  “Please, Mr. Pemadee, don’t turn me in. I can explain. I—”

  “Barnaby, stop.” Pemadee hushed Barnaby with a shake of his head. He released his shoulders and straightened his back. “I’m not going to turn you in, but I do know that you’ve gone through my belongings.” Barnaby’s stomach dropped and he felt his face turning the color of the red fruits in the cat-man’s cart. “Which means I also know why you’re out here, and I—”

  “It was an accident, truly! I never meant to read your note. It fell on—"

  “Barnaby, let me speak, please.” Pemadee took a deep breath and closed his eyes like he always did when Barnaby babbled on. Barnaby gulped, wishing he could sink between one of the cracks below his feet. “Now, as I was trying to say…I agree with you.”

  “You”—Barnaby paused, wondering if he had heard correctly—“you agree with me?”

  Pemadee nodded. “Yes, I agree with you. I think it’s about time you leave Ovallia and discover your past for yourself.”

  Hearing it said aloud, especially from Pemadee, who was supposed to shield him from all things outside the store, felt odd and freeing. Perhaps it was all a big, awful joke. He looked up and down the alley again, half expecting to see the Sacred Guards charging in with weapons at the ready, but there were none. “Uh…what?”

  “The letter you found.” Pemadee rummaged through the pocket of his vest. “It was written by an old friend of mine who used to be one of the Knowers at Galecrest.”

  Barnaby had heard of the Knowers before—they spent their lives studying inside Eslura’s “capitol of knowledge.” They kept safe many of the secrets of Eslura and were said to have a special, god-like power to collect and retain information. It was quite rare to ever find a Knower outside of Galecrest. They spent their lives among the rows and rows of books found within its most famed library. And it was even rarer for them to be released from their duties, as Pemadee seemed to imply his friend was.

  “He goes by the name Seely now, and he lives just outside of Treenode—the town your people once governed. He’s been closely observing the behaviors of another Olphin—one that escaped imprisonment and has remained in the shadows ever since. No one knows she is alive.”

  “So, it’s true, then. I’m really not the only free Olphin,” Barnaby whispered to himself. I’m not alone.

  “Listen, my son, I’m not done, and I don’t have much time to explain. There are Guards looking for you.” Pemadee put his hands on Barnaby’s shoulders again. “There’s something I haven’t told you. That Olphin
stole something very important from Seely and me, part of a research project we had been conducting—the same project that got Seely stripped of his title and kicked out of Galecrest. Eslura has made a terrible mistake, and its people are keeping it a secret instead of facing up to it. You, and all of the Olphins, are innocent!” He stared at Barnaby so intensely that Barnaby thought the man might have finally popped a screw. Nevertheless, Barnaby listened intently as Pemadee continued, “When the Olphins were removed from Treenode and brought to Morgaedion for imprisonment, I found you, Barnaby, but I also found this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone, the same stone that once sat in the glass case in his office. “There were two. One a reactor and one a deterrent, an on and off relationship so to speak. One possessed a powerful spell to control, and the other possessed the power to break such a spell. I took possession of one, and Seely the other. We thought it best to keep the stones apart while we conducted our research—if one of us were to get caught for indulging in such conspiracies, at least the other would still have one of the stones, and we would not be at a complete loss. But, as you know, Seely’s stone, the deterrent, has since been stolen by this Olphin. You see, I was not entirely truthful with you, and I know now is not the time for apologies, but with Seely’s note in mind, I must request your help.” He shoved the letter and stone into Barnaby’s hands. “I have heard rumors of a terrible event at Morgaedion and I fear the worst. You must bring Seely the stone. It is our only hope of the Olphins ever being freed. We must work together to fight the evil locked deep within Morgaedion. You simply must find Seely, Barnaby. Unfortunately, I cannot make the trip in this chair.” Barnaby unwrinkled the paper and scanned it. Olphin. The word screamed at him louder than the sandy-haired boy on the beach.

  “Find Seely,” Barnaby said. He nodded and tucked the paper into a pocket in his trousers. “Hear that Mauz? Find Seely.” The toad floated up and puttered around Barnaby’s head, testing the strength of his tiny wings. One day that toad’s stomach is gonna glue him to the ground.

  Pemadee wheeled back a few feet. “Now, I’ll go take care of those Guards for you. I’ll put up enough of a distraction for you to pass by.” He turned to wheel away.

  “Wait,” Barnaby called to him. “What will happen to you? I mean, I’ve broken the contract.” Pemadee had made the contract with the Sacred Ruler Lumikki the day he found Barnaby in Treenode. She had allowed him to keep Barnaby as long as he never left the bookshop.

  “Well,” Pemadee sighed. “I suppose I will find out whatever punishment Lumikki and her Guard decide is just for an old man who does not keep his promises.” He winked and started to wheel away again.

  “Mr. Pemadee,” Barnaby called again. Could this be it? Barnaby thought. Our last moment together?

  “Yes, Barna—”

  Barnaby ran at him, wrapped his arms around him, and nuzzled his head into his chest. “Thank you.” Barnaby wiped away a tear in the corner of his eye. Where would I be if not for Mr. Pemadee? he thought. Certainly not here, that’s for sure. He hugged him tighter. “Thank you for everything.” He felt the man exhale and give into his embrace, clasping his hands around Barnaby’s back and letting his head rest on the top of his untamed mop of hair.

  “Goodbye, Barnaby,” Pemadee whispered into his ear. He held Barnaby out in front of him, gazing at his face one last time as if to remember every one of the features that Eslura hated. Once satisfied, Pemadee nodded and released Barnaby’s shoulders. Then he spun his chair and rolled toward the end of the alley near the line. This time, without looking back. Barnaby watched him disappear around the corner.

  “Oh, Mauz.” Barnaby snatched the toad out of the air and pressed him against his cheek. The toad croaked.

  “Someone,” Barnaby heard Pemadee’s voice. He walked to the edge of the alley and looked out toward the line. Pemadee was lying on the ground next to his overturned chair. “Please help.”

  “Hey.” The cat-man pointed. “That’s Pemadee! He caused this whole mess in the first place!” The crowd circled around him, shouting and waving their fists at him.

  “Back up, everyone, back up!” The two Guards rushed over and pushed the crowd back with their staffs, leaving an open bridge behind them.

  “Well, Mauz, would ya look at that. The old man’s done it.” He pulled his hood over his head and bolted across the bridge.

  12

  What Lies Below

  A wintery gust blew over Reagan’s body, bit her skin, and forced her to huddle into a chattering ball. The fire had long since died, and only the charred remains of broken logs sat in the blackened pit. The barren wasteland lay all around her unseen in the darkness. It threatened to engulf any creature who dared trek into its uncharted depths. Silence sliced through the night, and she heard nothing but the sound of her own breathing.

  She stood and stretched her legs. Pins and needles pierced the bottom of her feet and made her skin crawl in circles. Crusted sweat from the afternoon stuck to her forehead like a thick layer of glue.

  She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and groped through the darkness in search of the bean-shaped canteen Tab laid out for her. Although she had downed the last few drops before her first attempt at sleep, her mind still clung to the slim chance of a few more drops.

  She pressed her lips, which were cracked like the hardened ground beneath her, to the mouth of the canteen and drew a drop, maybe two, and savored the wetness until it dissolved in her mouth. She thought about waking Tab to ask for a sip from her canteen, but her thoughts were cut short when the ground rumbled beneath her feet.

  The sharp tremor rocked the ground and tossed her off her feet. She leaned against the tree rock for support, but found that it, too, was vibrating and swaying back and forth. A piece of rock face cracked off and fell, grazing her forehead. She flinched and reached to touch the wound. When she drew her hand back, there was blood on her fingers, and she gagged.

  After a moment, the shaking subsided and Reagan walked toward Tab and her sleeping beast. There has to be some sort of extra cloth or bandage in one of those bags.

  But before she could reach the giant animal, the ground rumbled again. “Ah!” Reagan yelled. She tripped over her feet and collapsed onto the beast, startling it awake.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized as it bleated at her. The sand beneath them ebbed and flowed as if they were sitting on a waterbed. Reagan sat on the sand, hoping the earth wouldn’t just split beneath her and drag her down. “Tab!” How is she still sleeping?

  “What?” Tab grumbled and rubbed her eyes open. “What do you want?” She breathed an exaggerated yawn. Then her eyes went wide, and she grabbed at the sand as if she could stop the ground from trembling.

  “There’s an earthquake!” Reagan yelled. She had seen them only on the news before, but the shaking could not be mistaken for anything else.

  “That’s no earthquake,” Tab said. She drew both her daggers from their scabbards and held them poised at the growing rupture in the ground.

  Before either of them could make a move, the shaking subsided and the earth went still. A moment passed with nothing but labored breaths. Reagan glanced at Tab, whose daggers were still drawn. “Well, we certainly got lucky—"

  The earth broke apart and a giant worm jumped into the moonlight like a killer whale launching from the water. Three layers of jaws snapped side to side as it let loose a roar that shattered the tree rock.

  “What the—” Reagan was knocked to the ground by the shower of sand and dirt propelled by the creature’s massive tail. Tab stood firm, staring at the beast, covered in sand, as it fell back into the crack in the earth.

  “Stay down and shut up,” Tab hissed at Reagan. Then she knelt by the rubble of the tree rock, clutching her daggers at her hips and motioned her head for Reagan to join her. Reagan hurried over and crouched beside her. She fixed her eyes on the spot where the monster had fallen and prayed that it would stay buried.

  “What is that thing?” Reagan said, wondering if thing was a strong enough word to embody the horror of the gigantic, toothy creature.

  “What don’t you get about quiet?” Tab said, shaking her head, but proceeded to answer anyway. “It’s a drovig. I don’t know what’s got it all hot and bothered, but they’re sensitive to noise, so clam it.”