Legend of the Book Keeper (30 page)

“This is not a joking matter!” cried Jade sternly. “One doesn’t just accuse a prince, to his own face no less, of being a traitor and murderer, and then walk away unscarred. Kantan will retaliate. This is not what we need right now. Not with a war looming and your trial this evening.”

Randilin’s smile subsided. “Suppose you’re right . . . but it was still bloody brilliant of you, Cody.”

Jade hung her head in defeat.

Cody propped himself up against the wall in front of Randilin’s cell. “So, what is this Beast anyway? How could it possibly have made it past the guards to my room?” he asked, shuttering at the memory.

Randilin’s eyes rolled to the back of his he
ad and he inhaled a heavy breath. “To be honest, kids, I don’t know. Not sure there’s anyone other than perhaps King Ishmael who does. All I know is that we first got sight of it around the time of the Great War. It was like a shadow. No one ever got a good glimpse of it, or at least no one who stayed alive long enough to tell of it. It started with the priests. One by one they disappeared; some in their houses, some in the streets at night, some in the very Monastery itself. Never a trace of evidence left behind other than the mutilated victim himself. Rumors began to spread. It seemed that something was systematically hunting down the Brotherhood of Light. People began referring to it in hushed whispers as—The Hunter. All of the old order of Brotherhood Priests fell victim to its merciless hunger. All but one. A boy, the newest member of the order. His name was . . .”

“Lamgorious Stalkton,” finished Cody. “How did he survive when none other could?” he asked eagerly.

“That’s the thing. Nobody knows. All I know is that Stalkton lived. And after the Great War no one saw the Beast ever again. Centuries passed and The Hunter became a myth, a ghost story even. That is, until now. Did you know that before he was murdered by the Hunter, Wesley sent me a message attached to the leg of a hawk?”

“No, I didn’t; you’ve never mentioned it,” Cody answered in surprise.

Randilin continued, “Oh yes, that old man was crafty as they come. He knew he was in danger. I received the message that the Book’s location was compromised. By the time I arrived at the house, it was too late. Wesley’s body was in all four corners of the room. By the brutality of the killing, I feared the worst. But even in the face of death, Wesley was using his head. He left me a note . . .”

“Hung by a dagger to the wall,” recalled Cody, remembering his initial shock at watching the elderly Book Keeper pulling out a menacing knife. In hindsight, he realized there was so much he didn’t understand about the man. He wished he had known him more.

“That’s right, hung by a dagger. The note was brief; it simply said
Cody Clemenson now holds the code of fate. The torch has been passed
. Obviously, by
code of fate
he was tipping me off that you now possessed
The Code
. I knew I had to find you before The Hunter did. I began asking around the city about you. I knew you would eventually flee town, so I waited at the train station and followed you on board. I was going to join you in your compartment but that British fool, Dunstan, beat me to it. Instead I tried to round you off in Las Vegas, and now here we are. All cheerfully awaiting my death sentence.”

“Don’t worry, Randilin. I’m sure the trial will go okay. As you’ve just told us, you’ve done more than your part in keeping the Book safe,” said Jade with more confidence than she felt.

Randilin smiled. “Thanks, kid. Don’t worry about me. Men like me are destined to depart the world with a noose around our necks. But kids like you two give me faith that hope in this world is not an extinct reality.”

Cody’s knuckles were still white as he passed through the large wooden doors of the Monastery.
Atlantis possessed the power to create the universe, so why was it that he still had to put his life at risk every time he rode that flimsy elevator to the Monastery
thought Cody bitterly. “Heads up!” came a shout from above and Cody quickly dropped to the floor. A large rock whizzed over his head and skidded across the ground. Cody tucked his head into his body and rolled over. Xerx was on the first balcony. “Oops! Guess my aim was a bit off. I wouldn’t want to be sending boulders at the high and mighty Book Keeper now would I? He might send them flying back . . . oh, wait, he doesn’t know how to. I guess merely being a keeper of the Book doesn’t do squat for your knowledge of what’s inside. Pity.” Xerx gave a mocking smirk. Cody bit his lip; he didn’t have time for petty mind games.

Entering into the training room Cody found it exactly as it had been before. Stalkton’s back once again faced Cody as the elder man muttered away. Cody sat down cross-legged on the floor. “Master, I’m here to continue expanding my knowledge of the Orb under your guidance.” The pale man turned around slowly. “Now, that’s more like it. Oh, my heavens! What a hideous zit you have on your nose, frightening almost. It’s like a mountain was dropped onto the prairies,” exclaimed Stalkton, leaning forward curiously to examine Cody’s nose.

Cody pulled his head away. “Sir, we don’t have much time. I am participating in Randilin’s trial this evening.”

“Randilin . . . the funny midget of a man? So, he has returned at last,” said Stalkton thoughtfully.

Cody inched himself closer to his teacher. “What do you know about him, Sir? About Randilin?”

Stalkton took notice of his pupil’s anticipation. He paused and collected his thoughts for a moment before answering “Randilin is a prime example of humanity’s curse; an example that even the greatest men have a darkness in them, buried deep inside. But enough of this, you are here to learn. I want you to practice the word
byrae
. . . oh, and you might want to hold onto something.”

Cody shrugged disappointedly at the change of topic, but obeyed. “
Byrae,
” he stammered half-heartedly. A howling whistle came from the dome ceiling. Suddenly a powerful gust of wind billowed down from the roof like a waterfall and collided with Cody, sending him flying against the wall, and pinning him two feet in the air. He tried to raise his head, but the force of the wind held it tight.

“End the creation. Remember the words!” called Stalkton from the other end of the room in a mixture of worry and amusement.

Cody struggled to open his mouth against the wind. “
Gai di gasme!”
The wind died immediately, sending Cody crashing to the floor with a thud. He pushed himself back to his feet. “You’re a cruel man, Stalkton, you do know that.”

Stalkton gave a breathy laugh. “To be quite frank, I had forgotten the joys of new pupils. So much fun,” he said giddily.

Cody rubbed his sore hip. “Master Stalkton, so far, these words you’ve been teaching me. I can’t help but notice that they all involve creating or controlling the elements. Isn’t there more? I mean, can’t the Orb’s power be used to create tangible, material objects?” he asked, still clutching his bruised side.

The old man’s hazy eyes widened. “Oh, yes. The Orb is limitless. The vast depths of your creative mind would only flirt with the surface of its capability. You see, our creativity is merely a mirror of that which already exists. You can create water, fire, and wind. But are you really
creating
them? Or are you merely
mimicking
the reality that you already know? If you create a rose, are you
inventing
a rose? Of course not, you are merely creating a reflection of the beautiful rose you previously beheld in the garden. Regardless of how far your ability reaches, you must remember that you will always be incapable of being anything more than an
imitator
, never an
inventor.
Do you follow? ”

Cody nodded his head slowly, rubbing his tongue along his upper lip. “I think so. But I don’t understand what relevance this has to do with my training. Who cares if I am just mimicking?” Cody replied indifferently.

The old man’s hand shot out and stung across Cody’s cheek. “It is of
complete
relevance. It is the very essence of being a creator. Let me tell you another tale boy. There was once a brilliant young creator who had become so skilled and powerful that one day he claimed to be the god of the universe. The divine creator heard of this and challenged him to a contest in order to determine who would hold the title of god. The divine creator suggested that the highest pinnacle of his creation had been making man out of dirt. So the young creator, confident in his ability, bent over and grabbed a handful of dirt to create a human life. The divine creator laughed and simply said, ‘Get your own dirt.’ Brilliant as the young creator was, he was still trapped within the framework of the world he lived. Don’t forget this parable, son. By using the Orb’s energy we gain power, but we are still limited. Unfortunately, there have been some who have let the Orb’s power infest them like a cancer; distorting and twisting their minds until one day they wake up and believe that they are no longer merely man—but a god. Can you think of anybody?” Stalkton prodded.

Cody looked down. “The Golden King.”

Stalkton nodded. “Oh, yes, the Golden King he calls himself. It makes me sick to my stomach to hear of such blasphemy to the Orb . . . then again, it could also have been the two dozen rock-cakes I consumed this morning. They tend to give me the worst gas . . .”

“Sir,” Cody asked, suddenly remembering the question that had been floating around his mind since his meeting with Randilin, “I was wondering if you could tell me about something . . . about . . . the Hunter.”

Cody suddenly wished he could retract his words. The pupils in Stalkton’s eyes grew as he stumbled backwards, coughing. His head started jerking as though he was having a seizure.

“The Hunter is a demon,” he finally coughed out, his voice shaking like a flag in a hurricane. “An unholy Beast; the literal embodiment of evil. But it has been banished. So we have no need to speak of it. Ever!” he spit out, an unfamiliar edge in his voice.

“Banished, you say? How was it banished, if you’ll forgive me for asking? I mean, theoretically, could it ever come back?” Cody pressed cautiously.

An almost demented appearance seized Stalkton’s stern face. “Back? Why would you even bring up such an outrageous idea?” he snarled harshly. “It was banished by the Good King Ishmael himself during the truce with the defeated Golden King after the Great War. It was a compromise. The Hunter cannot be killed; it can only be contained. The Golden King agreed to trap the Hunter at the bottom of the Great Sea of Lava where it would rest for all eternity. His one condition was that, as a fail safe, if ever a man should read from
The Code
or
The Key
whom was not its rightful keeper, the Hunter would be awoken from its slumber,” Stalkton finished softly. Cody gulped.

“And, if someone were to read from
The Code
other than its rightful keeper, what would the Hunter do to that person?” Cody asked timidly.

Stalkton shuttered. “It would hunt them without ceasing. The Hunter needs no sleep; it only needs flesh. It is a flawless predator. When it catches a scent, inexorable doom awaits its wretched prey . . .” the priest’s voice faded to a whisper, his thoughts carrying him back to ancient memories. After a moment he shook his head. “But enough of this; it is only hypothetical talk. You didn’t attempt to read from the Book before it was yours, right? Surely you weren’t foolish enough to have read from it while Wesley was still alive . . . were you?” Stalkton asked, the terror bursting from his eyes.

Cody felt his palms sweating. “No, Sir, absolutely not. You have nothing to worry about,” he lied.

Stalkton’s shoulders slumped and he let out a long sigh. “Thank the maker. You had me worried. If you had read the Book before it was yours, then we’d all be doomed. But as it is not the case, we are never to bring up this topic again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir” Cody responded tensely. A sharp cramp formed in his stomach.
What have I done?

“Now, was there anything else you wanted to learn, our time is nearly up?” asked the priest as he lowered himself back to the floor.

Cody shook his head as he walked to the door, but stopped, and turned back to Stalkton, “As a matter of fact, there was one more word I was hoping you could teach me.”

Stalkon’s white eyebrow rose, “Yes, and which word was that?”