The Legend of the Firewalker (32 page)

It wasn’t until he reached the road leading to the C
ahokia Museum parking lot that the pain in his side forced him to take a break. He figured all of the running had finally caught up with him, and since he knew for sure there would be no traffic, he decided to sit in the middle of the road.

Although everything was in black and white, the road tha
t stretched out in front of him was picture-perfect, with motionless trees and twinkling sky. He supposed the scene would make a great photograph with him, the only thing in color, being the focal point and center of attention. Right now, however, the last thing he wanted was attention. He hoped he would continue to go unnoticed up to the very last moment, until he had no other choice but to reveal himself to save his friends.

He stood up, and before he could take a step forward, he felt a warm burst of air on his neck and back. A bright flash of light soon followed and Nathan shielded his eyes. “What was that?” he mumbled. He tried to open his eyes, but there was something big and bright in front of him. He squinted and could see the light gradually diminishing, revealing what looked like an outline of two enormous hands placed side by side t
ogether. Soon he could see what looked like a feather, and another feather, and then multitudes of them.

Nathan reached out to touch one and the wall of feathers abruptly sprung open. He instantly stepped back and r
ecoiled, but was ready to defend himself. The light grew smaller and smaller, and then it was gone. He gasped and blinked his eyes furiously. He couldn’t believe what was in front of him. “Uh,” he stammered. Nathan was speechless. “Are you, uh, wings?” he asked.

The tall man that stood in front of him smiled, and N
athan suddenly realized the bright light that blinded him had emanated from the man.

“Who are you?” Nathan asked hastily.

“A friend,” said the tall man, while extending a hand.

Nathan hesitated, staring incredulously at the deep bronze-colored hand in front of him. He could see hi
mself reflected in the gold breastplate as he reached out to shake hands, and in the brief moment that their hands touched, they were gone in a blinding flash.

21

MYTHS BECOME REAL
ITY

Nathan blinked a few times, trying to focus his eyes. He thought it was odd that he was on the ground when moments earlier he’d been standing up. The man that had declared himself a friend was standing in front of him. From Nathan’s current viewpoint, the tall man completely dwarfed him, leaving Nathan in complete awe of his stature. The gold breastplate the man wore fit him like a glove, and the individual straps with gold buttons that hung from his brown leather belt appeared fit for a king. His bronze skin was a nice contrast to the snow-colored wings now nestled behind him. Although without a sword, he reminded Nathan of a giant replica of a Grecian warrior prepared for battle.  

Nathan eyed the empty brass scabbard with red jewels that hung from his belt.

“Where are we?” Nathan asked warily.

“Do you not recognize it?” responded the man in a clear and pleasant voice.

Nathan got to his feet. The blades of grass beneath his hands had felt like little shards of plastic. He looked around and immediately noticed the shadowy trees surrounding the meadow they were in. “Well, we’re definitely still in the Space In Between,” he said. He continued looking around and eventually caught a glimpse of the old monastery off of Route 7 in the distance. “We’re in Lynn Field,” he said, sounding surprised.

The tall man beamed at him with welcoming amber eyes and nodded.

“Am I still in time to save my friends?”

The mysterious-looking man started to walk away, and what appeared to be a white door of light appeared in front of him. Nathan quickly followed, and the pit of his stomach became warm and relaxed as he got closer. Light from the door fell upon him, and so did a feeling of peace.

“Wait,” he called out, and the man turned around to meet him. “What about my friends? Aren’t you going to help me?”

“As in all moments in time, this too shall pass. But the choices and the outcomes of today will shape your future and that of your friends.”

Nathan looked up at him in bewilderment. “What are you saying?”

His bronze skin and amber eyes seemed to sparkle in the light. “After all the choices have been made, after all the happy moments, setbacks, doubts and failures,” he said, “rest assured that your life, your story will be a guiding light for many pe
ople.”

“Wait,” exclaimed Nathan. “Why are you saying all this?

Nathan continued to follow earnestly behind him, but the man quickly spun around exhibiting a firm hand. “You are neither dead nor an immortal spirit, and cannot enter.”

Nathan was caught off guard by his command and he froze. He watched as the bronze man with wings continued fo
rward, disappearing in a mist of white light.

He stood there alone again, pondering what had just ha
ppened and staring at the empty space that once was a door of light. “How can this get any crazier?” he mumbled, while throwing his hands up in the air. 

He couldn’t help feeling angry as he followed the stone path to Grimm Cemetery. He was close enough now to read the familiar Latin words carved at the base of the large oak tree. “Speak no ill of the dead. How ironic, I feel like it’s refe
rring to me, now that I’ve been left here to die. Why help me on the road only to abandon me?”

He shrugged in protest and then sighed again. He felt a little strange when he approached the black iron gate of the ce
metery. Everything looked the way it had in his dream, but something was different. In his dream, a sense of urgency had been there; he had heard Leah scream, but now everything was quiet.

He caught a glimpse of a loose stone in the walkway and instantly remembered tripping over it in his dream and fal
ling into the gate. “Well, that matches up,” he mumbled, as he proceeded carefully past the gate. “Let’s try not to repeat that episode.” He was mindful of the various plants entwined around the gate too, recalling that they had startled him.

As soon as Nathan entered the gates, he remembered fee
ling vulnerable while on the first level. He quickly ran past the rows of small headstone crosses to take refuge on the second level. He didn’t bother stopping to hide behind any of the taller monuments because he didn’t think they provided much cover.

He felt a sense of déjà vu as he darted up the dilapidated stone steps and ran to the closest mausoleum. Nathan’s breathing labored as he slowly peered around the weathered brick wall. “I’m not repeating that part of the dream,” he mumbled, while glancing back at the cru
mbling stone steps. He peered around the wall again, surveying the graveyard. “There has to be another way up to the plaza.”

Nathan carefully made his way to another crypt, stooping low, hoping not to be seen. From this angle, he had a clear view of the surrounding white archways and the tall white obelisk on the third level. He noticed things were much qu
ieter than in his dream; there wasn’t any chatter or chanting.

He dared to go a little closer by moving to another ma
usoleum. This one was familiar, however; it had been in his dream.
This was the crypt that was hit by the energy ball thrown by the priest with the crescent-shaped medallion,
he thought.

Nathan peered from behind the wall, and it was almost painful for him to look at the stone steps leading up to the third level. “I am not going up those stairs,” he mumbled, while recalling what happened next. A cold shiver ran down his spine. “There has to be another way!”

Nathan scanned the top level again. He was still astonished by the absence of activity. “Am I too late? Did they take them somewhere else?”

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, something moved. He ducked instantly. “Shadow Creatures,” he muttered, while taking protection behind the wall. One by one they appeared, darting across the brick and mortar floor. Fear gripped his chest, and his stomach began twisting in knots. “Relax, Nathan,” he repeated to hi
mself.

The Necrocritters continued toward one of the archways and seemed to disappear as they passed through it, leaving N
athan to wonder where they were going. He relaxed his shoulders, but his relief was short lived. Something else had moved. In each dark archway they slowly appeared. “Shadow Guards,” he whispered.

Soon after, two Scarlet Priests also appeared, both wea
ring red-hooded cloaks. Tied around their waists were decorative gold ropes that flowed to the ground. “Looks like I’m not late after all,” he said softly.

The two priests stepped aside and another figure emerged from the archway. “Jonas!” he blurted.

Nathan quickly ducked behind the wall to the tomb again, hoping he hadn’t been heard. When he emerged, it appeared as if no one had heard him. He could see that Jonas’s hands were bound and that his clothes were badly roughed up. Following behind Jonas was a tall, muscular-looking guy that appeared to be escorting him. “Who’s that? Where did they get this guy? He looks like he just stepped off the football field.”

The hefty guy pushed Jonas forward then stopped him in front of the two priests. He tried to force him to his knees, but Jonas refused. It looked like they were preparing to pe
rform some kind of ritual. Jonas tried to put up a fight, but the hefty guy overpowered him, knocking him to the ground with a violent blow to the head.

Nathan clinched his fists and gritted his teeth. His anger burned, and he could feel something else growing and bur
ning inside of him. “I’m going to kill that guy,” he vowed.

Jonas lay in agony on the ground, his hands still bound. The two priests appeared unamused by what just transpired and hissed loudly. The muscular guy quickly reached down and yanked Jonas by the arm, bringing him to his knees.

One of the priests raised his hand from beneath his ruby-red cloak, revealing a long glass vial in his thin, decayed hand. The other priest withdrew a shiny silver dagger similar to the one used to stab Leah in Nathan’s dream. In the blink of an eye, his dark, decaying hand was wrapped around Jonas’s arm as he prepared to pierce it with the silver dagger. But before he could strike, Jonas yanked back, freeing himself from his grasp. In the same instant, the burly guy slapped Jonas hard across the face, leaving behind a trickle of blood. 

Nathan’s hands trembled uncontrollably and the burn in the pit of his stomach intensified. “Not yet, Nathan,” he r
epeated to himself. “Not yet.” He took several deep breaths, trying to ease the pounding in his chest. He noticed that his hands were bright red, like they had been on the night of Lafonda’s birthday party.     

Loud hissing sounds echoed from the plaza. The priest with the silver dagger grabbed a fistful of Jonas’s dark hair and yanked his head hard to the left, fully exposing the blood coming from his mouth. The other priest car
efully placed the long glass vial underneath Jonas’s chin and collected his blood. After it was filled, he shook it as if to mix it with something, and the blood-filled vial soon sparkled a bright blue.

The priest released his grip and Jonas’s head slumped forward. He was held down by the back of the neck as the two priests stepped into the dark archway. Not too long after they had gone, the Shadow Guards also disa
ppeared.

Everything was quiet now, and except for Jonas and the muscular guy, the plaza appeared empty. Nathan couldn’t bear to watch Jonas suffer another second and figured now was his opportunity to save him. But before he could decide on how to attack, Jonas had sprung to his feet, knocking his captor off balance.

Nathan took off running. He only had seconds to reach the top before the guy recovered. He knew Jonas didn’t stand a chance while his hands were still tied. Nathan decided to ignore what he knew about the stone steps and ran up them anyway, carefully avoiding parts that were already crumbling. The hefty guy regained his balance and raised his hand to hit Jonas. Nathan also raised his hand, sending a big ball of energy straight into his back. The big guy slumped to the ground, and a huge look of relief washed over Jonas’s face.

“Nathan!” he shouted joyfully. “I knew you would come! But how the heck did you cross over?”

Nathan untied the rope around Jonas’s wrists and helped him to his feet. “I am surprised that I made it too,” he said with a slight chuckle.

Jonas’s eyes followed Nathan inquisitively.

“Let’s just say I had some help along the way.” He examined the bruise forming around Jonas’s mouth and then scanned the plaza. “Now quickly,” he said. “Where are the others?”

Jonas started to answer, but was interrupted by whoos
hing sounds coming from each archway. One by one, the Shadow Guards appeared, each one with a long silver sword held upright against their chests.

“Stay close to me,” said Nathan. He tried to back up, but couldn’t; they were all around them. Nathan opened his hand and formed an energy ball. He was prepared to fight for their lives. A few moments passed and the Sha
dow Guard in the archway to the right of them stepped aside. Two Scarlet Priests appeared, followed by another one. Nathan gasped.

“It’s the priest with the crescent-shaped medallion,” he muttered. 

Soon after, another red-hooded figure appeared, but this one was different: he was taller and stockier. Nathan caught a glimpse of his chiseled chin and whitish-blond hair and recognized him from his dream.

The blond figure removed his hood, revealing his ocean-blue eyes and luminous skin. His long hair was just as v
ibrant. He glared at Nathan and sighed heavily as if agitated by his presence.

“Do you want to die?” he asked with a devilish grin. His mesmerizing eyes scanned the plaza. “Stand down, or I will kill you myself.”

Nathan’s heart pounded against his chest, and he could feel the sweat accumulating on his forehead. He was about to close his hand, but he remembered how brave Jonas had been.

“No,” he said, while gathering his courage. “I will not stand down. Give me back my friends!” 

The man with the chiseled chin snarled, revealing his perfect white teeth. “Stupid humans,” he said.

In a blink of an eye, a f
lurry of what looked like red bolts of lightning sprung from the tips of his fingers.

Nathan tried to cast the energy ball in his hand, but dropped to his knees in pain. Jonas tried to get at the man but was knocked to the ground by another red bolt of lightning. 

The attack ceased, and Nathan felt like he had just been electrocuted. Smoke rose from the plaza floor and the clothes on his body.

The man laughed. “Humans. They get a little power, and they think they’re invincible,” he said. “Come, my dear. Please tell me, where did you find this one?”

From out of the shadows of the archway stepped the lady in white, the long train to her dress flowing behind her.

Nathan staggered to his feet and quickly blinked his eyes. He couldn’t believe who was standing in front of him.

“Amanda?” he shouted.

She kissed the blond man teasingly on the ear and gently traced the side of his face with her finger. She then focused her attention on Nathan, glaring at him with her sparking green eyes.

“He’s no one,” she said. “Just a boy I considered toying with while looking for the one we seek.”