The Golden Symbol (2 page)

He breathed deeply of the fresh, crisp air. Well, only partially crisp. It was going to be a very hot day. But fresh it was, and he smiled, jogging to catch up with Dad. Early giggled from his shoulder, and Jacob laughed as she pretended to fall off. It felt good to finally be doing something.

As soon as he’d caught up with Dad, Jacob glanced around, wondering where Aloren had ended up. She was walking several paces behind him. The moment their eyes met, she looked down. Jacob hid his exasperated sigh, put her behavior behind him, and walked with Dad and Gallus.

“Are we going to be digging through the part of the tunnel I destroyed when I was fighting the Ember Gods?”

Gallus shook his head. “No, it’s been cleared out again.” He smiled. “Eachan doesn’t like feeling trapped in Maivoryl City. He had the villagers do it.”

Dad looked over at Jacob. “So long as the Lorkon don’t know what we’re up to, we shouldn’t have any problems getting to that Kaith tree.”

After about twenty minutes of walking, they reached the tunnel. Jacob got shivers when he stepped into it, and put his hands in his jeans pockets. It felt weird being there again, and he half expected an Ember God to send flames toward them from the other end.

“Makalos, please light the way,” Dad said.

The tunnel walls were bathed in the bluish light the Makalo’s left ring fingers gave off. Nothing stopped or bothered them, and soon, they reached the other end and climbed the stairs to the town hall.

Eachan met them at the top. “Glad to see you made it okay. You’re sure I can’t assist somehow?”

Even though Jacob knew Eachan was trying to be polite, it was obvious he really didn’t want to help.

“No, no,” Dad said. “We’re fine.”

Eachan nodded, the colors for relief flooding the air around him. He walked them to the front door of the town hall and opened it. “Good luck.”

Jacob stepped to the door and looked out. At first, he didn’t see anything. Then a turkey strutted out from behind a building at least five hundred feet away. He pointed.

“A Bald Henry’s right there!”

A Makalo approached. “Where?”

Jacob glanced down—it was Gremul, the first Makalo Jacob had tested his hand-warming power on. He was glad to see that the Makalo didn’t seem to have permanent damage from that experience.

“There, lower than that porch. In between the two lampposts.”

Gremul nodded, and faster than Jacob thought possible, notched an arrow and sent it flying.

Nothing happened. Jacob squinted, trying to see, then Time-Saw to the Bald Henry. The arrow had struck a tree behind the Bald Henry, a few feet above its head. Jacob returned his vision to the town hall.

“A little lower.”

Gremul didn’t respond, but sent his second arrow after the first.

The Bald Henry fell with a poof of feathers, and Jacob grinned. “You got it!”

“Good. Any more?”

“Not right now.”

Jacob walked onto the porch, looking all around the clearing. No other Bald Henries appeared, and no villagers, so he motioned for everyone to follow.

They’d only walked maybe fifteen feet when suddenly, what seemed like hundreds of Bald Henries started pouring onto the street. At first, Jacob pointed them out as they appeared, but he quickly realized that wouldn’t work. He couldn’t keep up with the steady flow.

“Just shoot everywhere! They’re coming out of the doors and from the alleys.”

Many of the humans and Makalos in Dad’s group dropped to their knees and began shooting. Jacob stayed out of their way, watching as Bald Henries started falling. When one of the creatures got closer than the others, he would point it out and someone would take it down.

Finally, the road was clear again, and from there on, they only encountered five more Bald Henries. It seemed like most of them had come during that first huge onslaught.

“What I’d like to know,” Gallus said, “is where are the Ember Gods?”

No one had an answer for him, but he, Dad, and Ebony had their weapons drawn, waiting for those human-like, fire-controlling creatures to attack.

Villagers sneered at them through windows, but left them alone. Without any problem, Jacob led his group to the Kaith tree.

Dad had everyone stay clear of it. “They do weird things to the person the message is for—we don’t want anyone accidentally getting in the way.”

Jacob approached the tree, trying not to look too hesitant. He felt the eyes of those who watched boring into his back and wondered. Should he be shielding himself? Crouching? Crawling? Would the others care, anyway? Probably not.

The closer he got, the more sure he was that he was going to get attacked by some sort of magical protection attached to the tree.

But nothing happened. He reached the trunk and knew why. It had been burned, and badly.

He looked back at Dad. “I’m not sure if this is going to work. It’s been on fire more than once.”

Dad frowned, nodding. “Try it anyway.”

Jacob turned back to the tree and put his hand on its charred bark, surprised there was any of it left. It only took him a moment to find a seal on a hidden compartment. He pried at the edges, trying to open it. But nothing budged. Remembering he had the Key of Kilenya in his pocket, he pulled it out and held it next to the compartment. No lock appeared.

Jacob turned to his dad again, shaking his head. “I can’t get it to open.”

Dad half smiled. “I’d wondered if Onyev did something like this.” Staying out of reach of the tree, he tossed the Key of Ayunli to Jacob. “Now try it.”

Jacob held the key up to the compartment. As he watched, the edges of the box started glowing. Instinctively, he tried to put the key into one of the edges. That didn’t work. He held the rose-colored glass up to the seals. Again, nothing happened, so he dragged the key along all the glowing parts.

A hissing noise sounded from within—like a trap being released—and the compartment opened. Four small doors folded away, revealing a deep, dark hole in the tree’s interior.

He couldn’t help thinking about
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
when he put his hand into the dark hole. No bugs crawled onto him, though, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He hoped no one noticed him shaking and sweating. Why did everyone have to watch? So awkward.

Jacob reached farther into the tree and grabbed a scroll. He pulled it out and turned it toward the green-darkened sun. It had been damaged by the flames—parts of it crumbled away as soon as he started unrolling it. He knew that didn’t matter—they were black and ash-like and wouldn’t have been legible anyway.

Once the scroll was open as far as it would go, Jacob squinted at it. Only a couple of lines of writing were visible.

“It’s not all here.” Jacob fingered the huge hole where most of the writing of the parchment had been destroyed, then looked up. “And what’s here isn’t written in English.”

Dad strode forward, taking the scroll from him. “No wonder nothing stopped you—this isn’t going to help us at all. One ingredient is mentioned, and we would have guessed it anyway. Sap from a silver tree.” He held it up to the sun, peering at the writing, then sighed. “We’ll take it to Aldo and the Fat Lady anyway, though I have to say I’m disappointed.”

Jacob nodded, and Dad put the scroll in his bag and turned to the others. “Let’s head back.”

As they were leaving, though, Ebony put her hand up, an intense expression on her face. Everyone stared at her and she looked at Dad. “Can you hear that?”

Dad shook his head, but Akeno stepped next to his mother. “Feet.
Running
feet.” His eyes widened with alarm. “Something is headed this way, fast. And lots of them!”

The Makalos and humans didn’t have time to react before the source of the sound appeared.

Villagers rushed forward, flooding the street. As they neared Jacob’s group, several of them stopped to fight, brandishing brooms, table legs, and knives. They swung out at everyone, pushing the group back. When it became apparent that no one was trying to stop them, the villagers continued forward, leering at Jacob and the others as they passed.

The first trickle of people swelled into a huge mass, and Jacob quickly lost track of his friends. He saw Ebony get knocked down, but he couldn’t reach her. Dad appeared by her side and pulled her up before someone trampled her. Then Gremul fell. He wasn’t so lucky—he got stepped on by several villagers before Gallus got to him.

“Back! Into the forest!” Dad called.

Jacob shook his head. “Can’t—the trees—” Dad couldn’t hear him, and he didn’t need to finish anyway. Branches were flying through the air, smacking and whipping anyone who got near.

Jacob pushed against people shoving him, trying not to get jostled too much, trying to avoid the attacking forest. What was going on? How had the villagers been freed? They normally couldn’t go this far.

Finally, the stampede of people slowed, then ended completely. Dad, Gallus, and Jacob rushed forward, helping Makalos and humans to their feet. There weren’t many injuries—a couple broken arms and some bruises and cuts. It could have been a lot worse.

Gallus and Dad looked at each other. “Even from far away, the Lorkon are still causing mischief,” Gallus said.

“We expected that to be the case.” Dad motioned for everyone to head back to the town hall.

As they were about to enter the city, Sanso, the Ember God, dashed past them.

Gallus and Dad yanked out their swords, but Sanso merely jumped out of the way, an evil grin on his face.

“I shattered every single one of those vials!” he shouted. “Every one!” He disappeared down an alley, his laughter echoing behind him.

Gallus lowered his sword. “What was that supposed to mean?”

Dad shook his head. “I have no idea. But let’s be extra cautious, just in case.”

Jacob couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Dad meant, especially since he thought they were already being “extra cautious.”

Maivoryl City was eerily quiet, and it wasn’t any wonder. The place was empty. Jacob only saw a couple of Bald Henries, which Gremul took care of right away, but nothing else wandered the streets. No one watched from the windows.

The place felt like Macaria, back when all the doors had been destroyed. Here, many doors were still intact, but they were open, and furniture was strewn along the street.

“They’ve been freed,” Dad said, stating what Jacob felt was obvious. “The villagers. Someone released them from their prison.”

Gallus nodded. “But for what purpose? What are the Lorkon trying to do?”

Jacob felt Aloren look at him and he glanced her way. By the colors floating in the air around her, he could tell she was afraid. She met his gaze but didn’t say anything.

Even though Jacob was nervous, the contact with Aloren, though brief, warmed him. Maybe she was going to stop ignoring him.

He stepped back, letting others enter the town hall ahead of him. Because of this, he didn’t see why Dad and Gallus immediately pulled out their swords as soon as they’d gone inside.

“He isn’t a threat—he isn’t a threat,” Jacob heard Eachan say.

He scooted past Gallus, then saw what was going on. His jaw dropped.

Sanso, the Ember God, was sitting at a table next to Eachan. They appeared to be eating a midday meal.

“
What
is going on?” Gallus pointed his sword at Sanso, eyes on Eachan. “You’re working with
him
now?”

Eachan got to his feet slowly, painfully, but clearly at ease with the situation. “Sanso has had a change of heart.” He motioned to the Ember God. “Why don’t you explain what happened?”

Sanso shrugged. He didn’t stop eating when he started talking. “Keitus sent me and the other Ember Gods to prevent your people from getting that female Lorkon. We failed and he punished us, sentencing us to death. The wolves finished off the other Ember Gods, and a Dust saved my life.”

Sanso pointed over his shoulder, his chin-length black hair swaying. “The Dust is in the kitchen, if you’d like to meet him.”

Dad and Jacob looked at each other. Why would they want to meet a Dust?

But Sanso jumped to his feet. He strode into the kitchen and didn’t return for a moment.

Eachan smiled at the group. “He’s become quite attached to that Dust over the past few weeks.” His smile left his face. “Sanso should have died. Only his pride, and the small creature, kept him alive until I found them. And now, he’s been helping me get revenge on the Lorkon.”

Sanso returned. “The Dust will be out in a minute.” He returned to his seat at the table and took a long drink from a cup. “The Lorkon paid me richly . . . but they turned on me in the end. I suppose they always would have.”

His face darkened—his emotion colors changed to red—and Jacob felt like stepping behind the people who now surrounded him. Sanso was very dangerous when he was angry, and Jacob had experienced his anger. He pushed aside the impulse to hide, though, curious to see what the Ember God did next.

“Foolish Keitus. Never sees beyond his own plan. Never sees anyone as a threat. But I’ve now released his precious villagers, and he won’t have anyone to conduct his tests on.”

Eachan frowned. “He’s still doing tests?”

Jacob was just as surprised as the older man. He was especially surprised that Sanso knew and Eachan didn’t.

Sanso waved Eachan off. “All the time. He thinks he may have found a way to bind an object to a person, then unbind it.” The Ember God looked at Jacob. “He wants your key, boy, and he’s going to try to get it.”

“Small chance of that happening now,” Jacob said. “He’s not exactly in a position to—”

A look from Dad silenced him. Jacob figured Dad didn’t want Sanso to know that the Lorkon were hundreds, even thousands of miles away. Why, though? What was the Ember God going to do about it?

Just then, a Dust entered the room, head down. He approached Sanso. The Ember God put his arm around the Dust’s shoulders and turned the creature to face the people.

“Show them your eyes,” he commanded.

The Dust looked up, and Jacob gasped. Instead of the dark brown he’d expected, the Dust’s eyes were green. He’d never seen a Dust—or a Wurby—with green eyes. Always brown or blue.