Haven: Revenge of the Viper (24 page)

BOOK: Haven: Revenge of the Viper
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Sam’s smile faded and his heart felt like it had stopped beating when he saw Nara lying there, her sapphire gemstone dark and forsaken as if she too was dead. He was relieved that Demetrius was taking the staff with them. It was one of the few things he had left that had meant something to his mother. Besides, Sarah would kill him if he left it behind.

Coppertop's murky eyes tripled in size and his lips began to quiver. Sam thought the old man was having a heart attack.

“What? But you can’t, that’s a magic item. It should be sent to the Majesty as part of the evidence of sterilization.”

Sam looked to Demetrius. His casual demeanor was gone, leaving only a cold, desolate glare on his face.

“I wasn’t asking, Coppertop,” Demetrius warned. Sam and Travis did not budge, but glanced at one another nervously.

“But—” Coppertop said with a gulp.

“Mahan,” Demetrius called to the Centurion standing in the room with them, “I need you to help Mr. Coppertop here. Please ensure everything is packed to my specifications. Can you do that for me, soldier?”

Sam and Travis looked at the Centurion, who towered above them. The soldier turned his menacing winged helmet in Coppertop’s direction. “With pleasure, sir,” he said in a deep, gruff voice. Coppertop’s head shook nervously as he peered at the Centurion from the corner of his eye.

Demetrius looked down at Sam with a derisive smile. “Yes, quite charming isn’t he?” And just like that Demetrius’s calm demeanor had returned and Sam couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yeah, quite,” he said.

“I think I liked Dirty Ernie better,” Travis said, elbowing Sam in the arm. “At least Ernie never talked.”

Sam nodded, “Good point.”

Demetrius began to walk toward where the stairs used to be. “Let’s give Coppertop some room, shall we? Believe it or not he is quite good at his job,” he said, looking up at the Centurions standing guard upstairs. Their sapphire staffs illuminated the top floor, bathing the walls in a radiant blue glow.

“Come, we will need to gather your belongings for the journey,” Demetrius said.

Sam guessed he would be taking only what he could carry, which was fine by him. He was pretty sure they didn’t have any Sony PlayStations where he was going, so just the essentials would have to do.

Without saying a word, Demetrius moved Hollister between the three of them and Sam grabbed the black and silver staff. Travis looked apprehensive but grabbed Hollister with a firm grasp, as if his very life depended on it.

“Ready?” Demetrius asked. Sam nodded. Travis twitched his head like he was having a mild spasm in his neck. Demetrius gripped the staff firmly and tapped Hollister once on the ground and everything went dark again. Sam watched as the room vanished, swallowed up by the green flash of light from Demetrius’s staff. He felt like he was falling and his stomach lurched, making him grimace with nausea. A wave of crushing pressure moved over his body, causing his skin to ripple. It felt like he was on the fastest roller coaster ride of his life. Then, just like before, a sliver of green light appeared in the distance. Sam closed his eyes as he sped toward the light, knowing that it was almost over.

When he opened his eyes, it was to the sound of a loud crash and a yelp. Travis was lying flat on his back with his head half stuck in Sam’s toppled trash can.

“Tr … Travis …” Demetrius stammered, shaking his head slowly. He seemed shocked to see the boy sprawled out on the floor like that. The emerald glow from Hollister made Travis’s face look like he was about to puke.

“I’m good, I’m … okay,” Travis groaned, as he tried to stand up. “No problem here.” But he wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not Demetrius, who helped Travis to his feet. When Travis could finally stand on his own, he found Demetrius staring at him like he was one fry short of a happy meal.

“What?” Travis shrugged.

Demetrius frowned at Sam, hoping for some explanation for his friend’s strange behavior, but Sam had nothing and shrugged. He walked over to his closet, reached in and found his backpack from school. When he turned back around he found Travis staring up at Demetrius, who was scowling and sniffing the air.

“I smell … pine and,” he took in another deep breath, “juniper, I think.”

For a minute Sam had no idea what on Earth Demetrius was talking about but then he smelled it too and suddenly it all came back to him.

“Oh, yeah, that’s called Mountain Mist,” he said.

“Mountain Mist,” Demetrius repeated, nodding in approval. “I like it.”

“Yeah, not bad,” Sam replied. “It smells better than it did before, take my word for it.”

“Yeah, take his word for it,” Travis said, nodding in agreement. He picked up a book that was lying on top of Sam’s dresser and started flipping through it.

Demetrius gazed at Sam’s dragon posters. He looked carefully, taking in every variety of dragon that Sam had displayed on his wall.

“Impressive collection,” he said.

Sam stuffed in a few shirts and a hoodie into his backpack and looked up at Demetrius.

“Yeah, I like them. My dad was a big fan of them too, or at least that’s what my mother said.” Demetrius glanced at Sam from the corner of his eye when he mentioned his father, but Sam turned to admire his collection.

It bothered him that he didn’t know that little fact about his father firsthand and he tried to conceal this from Demetrius, but he felt he was doing a poor job. Sam moved to his dresser, putting a few pairs of jeans and some underwear into the backpack.

Demetrius looked back to the wall and trailed his hand softly over one of the posters, as if he was reliving some sort of distant memory. “Yes, Rylan was a big fan of dragons. This was his favorite, you know, the Romanian Diamondback. Rare breed.”

Sam looked up at the poster and a smile crept to the corners of his mouth. It felt good to have something in common with his father, even if he never knew him. That one small connection made his father seem real, and that meant more to Sam than anyone could possibly imagine.

Demetrius reached up and removed the poster from the wall and held it out to Sam. Sam reached for the poster but he hesitated, pulling his hand back instead. He searched Demetrius’s face, unsure of what to do.

“You should take this,” Demetrius said, holding the picture. He stared down at the poster and Sam could not help but notice how sad he looked.

“Life is made of many bonds, not all of which can be seen. This is a bond between you and your father,” he said, pursing his lips and handing Sam the picture. “Rylan would have liked that.”

Sam felt a sudden warmth radiate throughout his body. He liked that maybe he and his father did have some kind of bond, even if he was no longer alive. He took the poster and placed it neatly into his backpack. Then he turned and grabbed the Christmas picture of Sarah, his mother, and him to put in his bag as well.

He remembered how he had begged his mother to stay home that day, telling her that family Christmas pictures were lame, and that taking them at PhotoSmart inside Wal-Mart was even worse, to which Sarah added that he was already lame and it wouldn’t matter. Now, as he looked at his Mom and Sarah in their ridiculous short haircuts it made him smile. He missed them even more now, and he didn’t even mind looking at himself in that ridiculous blue and white snowman sweater.

Sam stared at the picture, lost in the details of that day when Travis said, “I guess I should get home and get my stuff too.” His words broke Sam’s concentration. With everything that had happened, he hadn’t given any thought, really, to Travis joining him on his journey to Haven. Or that after tonight Sam might never see him again.

Travis still had family here, not to mention that their journey would be dangerous, so dangerous that they might not survive. As much as Sam wanted Travis to go, there was no way he could ask him to do that for him. What if Travis got injured, or, even worse, if he died? Sam knew he could not live with that. He looked over at Travis, who was thumbing through the pages of the book he’d picked up.

“Is this Pirate book any good? The girl on the cover kind of looks like Sarah.”

“Trav, what are you talking about?” Sam asked.

Travis held up the book, waving it in his hand.

“Any good?”

“No, Trav, about going?”

Demetrius watched patiently, glancing back and forth between Sam and Travis. Travis placed the book back on the dresser and looked back at Sam.

“I’m saying I need to get some stuff too, dude. I can’t wear these clothes—they have Viper guts on them,” he said, looking at Sam as if he were the clueless one.

“But Trav,” Sam said with a look of concern, “you can’t go.”

Travis winced as if the words stung him. “What?” he asked, wiping his hair out of his eyes so he could look at Sam clearly. “What do you mean?”

“Trav, I’m not coming back. I have nothing to come back to,” Sam said. “My parents are dead, my sister is dying, and I’m about to take some journey that I might not survive. Besides, you can’t leave your grandparents. Who would take care of them?”

Travis jerked his head back slightly, frowned, and moved away from the dresser to stand in front of Sam. “Wait, are you saying that I can’t go with you?” Now Demetrius was looking at Travis with his eyebrows raised.

“Um …” Sam hesitated, “no, I’m saying you
shouldn’t
come.”

Travis’s eyes grew wide. “Shouldn’t?”

“Travis, what about you grandparents?” Sam asked, throwing his hands in the air.

Travis’s body stiffened; he looked frustrated. “I … I don’t know, I could call my Uncle Keven. He could watch them.”

“But Travis,” Sam said, shaking his head. “I’m not coming back. You would never see them again.”

Travis looked down at his feet, “I know.”

Sam moved closer to him. “Do you? Listen to yourself! You are talking about leaving forever. What would you even tell them?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Travis’s voice was louder now. “Something,” he said and began pacing around the room.

“Something,” Sam said. “Come on, Travis, are you really going to leave your family?”

Travis turned and rounded on Sam. “You’re my family too!” he shouted. His face was red and screwed up with anger. “Don’t you get it?” He waved his hand in frustration. “You guys have been the family I never had. Geez, Sam, I thought you understood that.”

Sam felt like he had been punched in the chest. Travis never raised his voice. He had always been so passive, but now he was really angry.

“Travis … I—”

“Sam, you can’t ask me to turn my back on my family. I won’t do it. I won’t,” he said adamantly. “Yes, my grandparents need me, but so do you. You might think you don’t, but you do! I know the risk and it’s my choice. Don’t take that from me, Sam, please.”

“But Trav …”

“I could never live with myself if I stayed behind. I couldn’t live knowing you and Sarah were in danger and I stayed here and did nothing.” Travis took a step toward Sam with a look of desperation on his face. “So, I’m asking you again, please. Don’t take that choice from me.”

There was a long pause while Sam and Travis stared at one another. Demetrius stood quietly with both hands on his staff. He looked back and forth between the two boys until Sam finally spoke. “Okay.”

Travis let out a long sigh and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Okay.”

Chapter 21

“T
ravis,” Demetrius said as he walked toward him, “I think I can help you with your grandparents.”

Travis and Sam both turned to face him. “Really? How?” Travis asked, his tone full of skepticism.

“I can help them to forget,” Demetrius said calmly. Travis narrowed his eyes.

“What do you mean … forget?”

Demetrius rubbed his hand along the side of his thin, gray beard and looked up to the ceiling as if he was working out the finer details of a grand plan.

“Yes … Coppertop I think.”

Travis’s eyes grew wide. “Um, no offense, Demetrius, but that guy’s from the shallow end of the gene pool. I don’t want Mr. Happy anywhere near my grandparents.”

Sam could tell by Demetrius’s raised eyebrow that he was not entirely sure what Travis had just said. But he understood that Coppertop would be a problem.

“No, we don’t need Coppertop to meet your grandparents. That would probably be a bad idea. But we do need what Coppertop has on him,” Demetrius said.

“And what’s that?” Sam asked.

“Silver Ever-lace,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

Demetrius turned to the Centurion outside Sam’s bedroom door. “Lucio, find Coppertop. I need a flask of Silver Ever-lace.”

“Yes, sir.” The Centurion nodded, then turned and evaporated.

While they waited for Lucio to return, Sam looked around the room one last time. He had packed most of what he thought he would need for the journey, which wasn’t much because his backpack was rather small.

“Demetrius, what about the rest of the stuff in the house, like my mom’s and Sarah’s things?” he asked as he looked around the room. His gaze fell on his Sony PlayStation.

“Coppertop will take care of all that, so don’t worry. It will all be coming with us.” Demetrius reassured him.

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