Talisman of El (12 page)

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Authors: Alecia Stone

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Speculative Fiction, #Mystery

BOOK: Talisman of El
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‘The Tree of Life!’ Charlie almost screamed the words. Tom half smiled at his enthusiasm. ‘Have you ever heard of the word Sephirah?’

‘The name sounds familiar,’ Derkein said. ‘My dad probably mentioned it at one point, but I can’t say I know what it means.’ ‘It’s what the Arcadians call the Tree of Life,’ Tom said.

‘Arthur had overheard his captors talking about it. They claim that whoever finds Sephirah gets their heart’s deepest desire.’ ‘What, you mean like a wish?’ Charlie enquired. ‘Arthur didn’t elaborate. Your guess is as good as mine.’ This news stirred something inside Charlie that made his heart swell. It was a good feeling.

Tom untied the cord around the journal and opened it. ‘Of course, when I read the journal, I considered the possibility that my father had been crazy. That was before I started visiting some of the places he had been to. Back in 1966, my search took me to West Virginia, and it was there I had my first encounter with a monster. Folks had reported sightings of a huge creature with large wings and red eyes. They called it the Mothman. Many disasters happened around the time it appeared and many people died. I would have been one of the causalities had it not been for my steel knife. It seems copper and steel are the only things that can fatally wound Arcadians.’ He looked down at the journal. ‘My father saved my life. I stabbed the creature in the chest, and it burst into dust, leaving no evidence it ever existed.

‘There were many caves and tunnels in the area, but I never found an entrance. That’s when I considered something neither Arthur nor my father had mentioned. The entrance to Arcadia must be some sort of gateway that opens and closes, which would explain why it’s so hard to find. With all the strange happenings around the world, I have cause to believe there is more than one gateway.’

Tom flicked through a few pages in the journal. He stopped and laid it open on his lap. Charlie tried to read what was on the pages but the writing was difficult to decipher. ‘Arthur first disappeared on March 20, 1844,’ Tom said.

‘My mother and I last heard from my father on December 25, 1937.’ He looked at Derkein and Charlie as if the dates should have meant something to them. ‘Don’t you see? The spring equinox was on March 20, and my father disappeared three days after the winter solstice. The gateway opens on equinoxes and solstices.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Charlie.

‘An equinox occurs twice a year,’ Tom explained, ‘when the sun is exactly over the equator, resulting in both halves of the earth getting roughly the same amount of sunlight. In other words, equal day and night. A solstice also occurs twice a year, when the sun is at the greatest distance from the equator. It’s the days of the year with the longest and shortest periods of light.’

‘So the gateway opens four times a year,’ Derkein said. ‘Exactly. The elements constitute different phases of the sun’s cyclic activity. When these four phases – the equinoxes and solstices – are activated, the gateway opens.’ Tom flicked through the journal again. Attached to some of the pages were newspaper cuttings detailing tragic events all over the globe. ‘People disappearing three days in a row, storms hitting a few cities in one state, murder, traffic accidents … They all occur over a period of time then suddenly stop.’ He stopped on a page with a tally chart. There were four columns, but only three had headings: event, first report, last report. In the last column, the one without a heading, Charlie saw
Full Moon 
written for almost every event on the page.

‘Many of these events ended around the time of a full moon,’ said Tom. ‘I think that’s when the gateways close.’ He glanced at the calendar on the wall opposite the window. ‘It’s March 22.’ He locked eyes with Derkein, who Charlie noticed was wearing the same unnerved expression as Tom. ‘The spring equinox was on March 20.’

Charlie now understood. ‘Wait, doesn’t that mean –?’ ‘Yes,’ Tom cut in. ‘The gateways are open.’

Monday, March 25, three days since Charlie and Derkein visited Thomas, and since then, the gang had been on panic alert. The gateways had been open for six days, and they had no clue where the entrances were. It was nearing six in the evening when they returned to the shack.

‘How are we supposed to find it when the compass needle spins everywhere we go?’ Richmond asked, frustrated. They were sitting on the cardboard bed, a pizza box open in front of them. ‘How do we know we haven’t passed it?’

‘We don’t,’ Derkein said. ‘We have to accept that we may never find it.’

‘But we have to –’

‘I know.’ Derkein’s voice sounded strained. He took a deep breath, and in a calmer voice repeated, ‘I know.’

‘We still have two days before the full moon,’ Alex said. ‘The compass acting up is a good sign. Thomas said it did the same thing when he was in those places where strange events occurred, so it has to be because of the gateway.’

Charlie opened his bag and pulled out a map of the village of Woolpit, laying it on his lap. ‘There are twelve caves in the Woolpit Gorge. We’ve searched five and found nothing. We have to get into the rest of them, and we have to do it now.’

‘But they don’t allow visitors inside the other caves,’ Richmond reminded him.

‘That’s why we have to go at night,’ Charlie said.

‘What about tonight?’ Alex suggested.

‘No,’ Derkein said. ‘I’m not taking you into the caves at night. It’s too dangerous.’

Charlie closed the map, placed it back inside his bag, and took out a pocket-sized golden compass. ‘It’s not as if we have any other option.’

‘You guys have already missed a day of school. It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing, but –’

‘School can wait,’ Alex interjected. ‘This is a time sensitive matter. If we don’t find the entrance, we’ll have to wait until the summer solstice for the gateways to open again. That’s three months from now. You don’t have three months.’

Charlie wasn’t paying attention to their dispute. He was looking at the compass, the needle spinning clockwise making one rotation in five seconds. ‘It’s spinning faster,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘What was that?’ Derkein asked.

‘The needle’s spinning faster than when we were inside the caves.’

‘Okay, so what does that mean?’ Richmond asked.

‘It either means we have a broken compass and have to start over again,’ Derkein said, ‘or Tom’s theory was just that– a theory.’

Charlie said, ‘Or maybe the entrance is closer than we think. As in Capeton.’

‘There are no caves in Capeton,’ Alex said.

Charlie paused, thinking. ‘None that we know of.’ The others regarded him with curiosity. ‘Think about it. Arcadia is inside the earth, hidden where no one can see it. What if there are hidden caves in Capeton.’

‘If there are, how are we supposed to find them?’ Alex asked.

Charlie looked down at the compass. ‘If the needle spins faster the closer we get to the gateway, I say we follow it.’ His gaze flickered to Derkein. He didn’t want to be the decision maker, especially if he turned out to be wrong. ‘What do you think?’

Derkein was silent for a moment, his hands fidgeting – a direct conflict to his poker face. He looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see right through the roof. There was a twinkle in his eyes when he looked back at the trio. ‘My dad used to say that life was all about taking chances. If it wasn’t for you’– he locked eyes with Charlie – ‘I wouldn’t be where I am now. At this point, we have nothing to lose. So let’s do it. Let’s see where the compass leads us.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

The Hidden Draw 

HEARING FOOTSTEPS ON THE stairs, Charlie lay still in bed, his face turned to the wall. It had just gone ten, and he and Richmond had only made it home an hour ago. His bedroom door squeaked as it opened and then closed again. He listened as Jacob’s footsteps retreated down the hallway and then turned over onto his back. Rolling onto his stomach, he hung over the side of the bed and peeked under it. He just about made out Richmond’s form in the darkness.

‘You okay?’ he whispered.

‘Yeah,’ Richmond whispered back. ‘I can’t wait to search for the gateway tomorrow. I think we’ll find it.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Maybe you can use your psychic powers.’

Charlie smiled. ‘I’ll work on it. Night.’

‘Night.’

Lying on his back, Charlie stared into the darkness, his mind wandering. He still could not fathom the fact that Thomas Wakeman was Jacob’s father-in-law. It was strange enough that he had dreamt about Derkein, but now this. He didn’t know what to think anymore. All he knew was that if they didn’t find the gateway before it closed, at the rate Derkein was aging, he wouldn’t be around much longer. His eyelids started to flutter, and sleep eventually overcame him.

That night, Charlie had a dream.

He was standing in a misty forest, and all he could hear was his own breathing. Feeling a small pressure on his right shoulder, as if someone had touched him, he looked around but saw no one. The sound of footsteps disrupted the silence, and he jumped when a shadow ran past him.

‘Charlie.’ He recognised Derkein’s voice but couldn’t see him.

Another shadow ran past him whispering, ‘It’s coming.’

Charlie followed its direction, the sweet smell of nature familiar and welcoming. Soon, he came to an open glade. Although mist swamped the area, he could still see what was before him. It was a graveyard.

As he sauntered through the graveyard, his eyes sweeping over the surrounding gravestones, he felt as if there was an unseen presence with him, guiding him. He finally halted in front of a black granite gravestone with no inscriptions.

Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, he quivered and spun around.

‘Charlie,’ someone whispered behind him.

He turned back around and gasped. It was Derkein, but younger – the face from the passport – standing inches in front of him.

‘What, no flowers?’ Derkein said with a smile.

Charlie glanced around the graveyard, his grey eyes growing speculative. ‘What are we doing here?’

‘You can’t save everyone, Charlie.’

‘What are you talking about?’

Suddenly, familiar faces appeared around him: Richmond, Alex, Jacob, Ms. Trent, Josh, Damzel, Carla, Rebecca, Mrs. Dench ... There were other faces, too. Charlie spun in a circle.

‘It’s coming,’ Derkein said. ‘You can’t stop it.’

Charlie looked at him. ‘What’s coming?’

‘The end.’ At that moment, the earth opened and swallowed Derkein.

‘No!’ Charlie dropped onto his hands and knees and started digging. ‘Someone help –’

The people had disappeared, replaced by gravestones.

The graveyard seemed endless.

A low, rumbling growl reverberated in Charlie’s ears. Looking down, he saw two glowing red eyes staring at him through the dirt. Then two human-like furry hands with sharp claws burst out of the ground, grabbed his arms, and pulled him in –

Charlie jerked upright in bed. His eyes were wet with tears. It was still dark outside, and from the sound of the rolling thunder, a storm was brewing. He tried to make sense of his dream, but as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he became aware of a figure in his room, standing by the dresser.

Assuming it was Jacob, he sighed. ‘What now?’ When he got no reply, a sense of dread came over him, and in a quick flash, he switched his bedside lamp on.

A strong wind whipped around the room, and Charlie sheltered his eyes with his hands, his hair blowing wildly about his head. Once the wind eased, he opened his eyes and saw that the figure had vanished. He would have thought he had imagined it, but the evidence lay in the pieces of papers flying around the room.

‘Candra,’ he breathed. With all that had happened lately, he had about forgotten her until now. He found, to his surprise, that he was more curious than fearful. He was certain she had controlled the wind, just as she had done the night he had tried to escape. Knowing now that she wasn’t the product of his imagination, there could only be one other explanation:
she’s Arcadian!

A clicking sound distracted him from the paper storm, and he looked at the door. Jacob was standing in the doorway, that disdainful look on his face. ‘Get dressed,’ he demanded.

Charlie looked up at the clock; it was nearing midnight. ‘What for?’ he asked, but he knew well what the man was talking about.

‘You bloody well know what for.’

‘No.’ Charlie’s voice was low, his eyes cast towards the floor, but he spoke with firm conviction. ‘I’m not doing it.’

Jacob stepped into the room and flicked the light switch on. Charlie blinked, momentarily blind. ‘You’ll do as I say.’

‘My dad didn’t bring me up to be a thief.’

‘Your dad stopped bringing you up when he decided to drop dead.’

Charlie fixed him with an angry glare. ‘I won’t do it.’

As if he had lost twenty pounds off his frame, Jacob dashed across the room and lunged at him, pinning him to the bed with his thick arms. ‘You listen to me,’ he spat. ‘You will do as I tell you, do I make myself –?’ He broke off in a cry of pain and backed away from Charlie, hopping on one foot.

‘Leave him alone.’ Richmond emerged from under the bed.

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