“You did?” Conrad took his bag off his shoulder and let it thud to the ground. “I see.”
Piper watched the color drain from Conrad’s face until he became as white as a sheet. “What?”
“Max, you go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you,” Conrad said, not taking his eyes from Piper.
Max jumped off the hook. “Naw way! What if you miss it?” He looked from Conrad to Piper. “’Cause of her? Pffff. Fine. Your loss. But I’m not missing it. I’m gonna go.”
With a wave of the water purifier, Max turned to leave. “And dude, this is choice! You did good. It’s something you’ll be remembered for.”
“Thanks.”
“Here.” Max pulled from around his neck a chain, on the end of which was an old key. He tossed it to Conrad, who caught it.
“What’s this?” Conrad looked at the key in his hand. It was made of ancient iron with deep grooves circling in the handle.
Max was already out of sight. “A gift. You deserve it. Later,” he called over his shoulder.
“Good riddance.” Piper snorted. “Now what is going on, Conrad?”
“That is what we’re going to find out.”
CHAPTER
37
Equilla seemed neither surprised nor upset when Conrad and Piper abruptly burst in and proceeded to detail AnnA’s plight.
“This is a very complicated matter,” she said, calmly pruning her dragon plant. The plant was the size of a Labrador retriever and each stem contained a snapping dragonhead of a different color. As with all things, she handled the vicious plant with equanimity and brushed aside the snapping jaws before her finger was dislodged. Several times a flame burst came her way, and this too she neutralized with a small breath.
“There’s nothing complicated about it. It’s just plain wrong!” Piper was still fighting mad.
Equilla placed the pruning shears down and took off her gloves, one finger at a time. “There are things you need to know about us and our past. Our history here is a long one.”
She led Piper and Conrad out to the balcony and motioned to comfortable chairs. After pouring them a special blend of juices and herbs, which they drank and which made them feel strangely calm, she sat down in front of them.
“In the very beginning,” she began, “we all lived in a great city by the sea. Everyone was exceptional and there was a lasting peace among all the people. One day a boy was born named Primus, and it was discovered that he had no ability. No one had ever seen anything like it; every child was born with some ability, and to not have one was unthinkable. People shunned Primus and his parents feared that he had some sort of sickness and would die. Fortunately he began to grow and was healthy.
“Over the years Primus watched as all his friends grew into their abilities, and the day came when this made him angry. His anger grew into jealousy, particularly toward his closest friend, Agios, who had a very special ability that was widely celebrated. Agios could part the waters of the sea and walk from the shore to an island without one drop of water falling on him.
“Next to Agios, Primus felt insignificant. So one day he played a trick on him. Primus took Agios’s puppy and secretly chained it next to the water. Then he challenged Agios to part the waters, which caused the puppy to drown. When Agios discovered what had happened to his dog he was overwhelmed by grief and remorse. Primus told Agios that it was his ability that was to blame. He explained to Agios that his gift was dangerous and he warned him that if he continued to use it there would be more deaths. At first Agios did not believe him but Primus argued his point so passionately that finally Agios did believe.
“With one follower under his belt Primus moved on to others and soon they, too, turned their backs on their unique abilities for what they believed to be the safety and well-being of all concerned.”
“They believed it even though it wasn’t true?” Piper interjected.
“Yes, Primus lied and hid the truth. His deception transformed peaceful people into a fearful, argumentative, and conflicted mob. Concerned parents refused to use their abilities and forced their children to do the same. Others refused to let their talents go. Those who wanted to be normal did not wish to live next to neighbors who chose to keep their gifts. Children with special abilities were taught not to play with children without them. Generations went by and the tension and anger built and people forgot the name Primus but remembered in gory detail the stories their parents told them of danger and fear. Anything that went wrong—a bad crop, an unexpected accident—was blamed on those with what were now ‘special’ abilities. Finally the day came when there were so few of us left that we were led by the Guardian to Mother Mountain for our own safety.”
Equilla looked back and forth between the two of them and sighed.
“You are not safe down there, in the outside world. You are hunted and tortured and they will never accept you. It is not safe for us to have AnnA here when she is not like us. It will create problems and unrest even if that is not her intent. The two worlds have separated and never shall they meet. It is for good reason and it has been so now for thousands of years.”
“But AnnA…” Piper began.
“AnnA will be treated kindly and with great care. All her memories of this place will be erased and she will know nothing about it. She will be taken below, where the Outsiders will care for her.”
“In an orphanage or a foster home or—”
“In a place where she will be with people like herself, where she will fit in and be accepted.” Equilla’s voice was even and rational. “It would be unkind for her to remember Xanthia when she can never return. We take her memories away for her happiness as well as our own safety.”
“But—” Piper began.
“No one person can be allowed to threaten the safety of this place.” Equilla was quiet but definite. “There have been very few children born this way, but on the rare occasion it does happen, our rule on this is firm: AnnA must go.”
“Then the rules need to be changed!”
“My child, it is not for me to make these rules. I simply uphold them by the will of the people.”
Conrad got to his feet, putting a hand on Piper’s shoulder to calm her. “I can understand your rules. As much as we may not like them, they certainly make sense.”
Equilla nodded, pleased at his clear thinking.
“Let me ask you,” Conrad continued in even tones. “In the beginning, who was it that created the rules?”
“When we first came here our Guardian set down the rules for our happiness, safety, and protection.”
“And who is the Guardian now?”
Equilla shook her head calmly at Conrad’s naive mistake. “There has only ever been one Guardian.”
The color drained from Conrad’s face and he unwittingly took a step backward. Piper was perplexed both by what Equilla said and by Conrad’s reaction to it.
“But you said Xanthia has been around for thousands of years. It’s not possible to have the same Guardian for that long.”
“Actually, Piper, it is,” Conrad said, “if the Guardian happened to be immortal.”
“But…” Confusion knit Piper’s brows.
Conrad put the pieces together for her. “The Guardian is Max.”
“That … guy? Max?”
“Oh, you’ve met the Guardian?” Equilla was impressed. “He rarely visits. He is so busy with other matters. I myself have only seen him once.”
“But Conrad’s been with him this whole time in the Knowledge Center.”
“The Knowledge Center?” Equilla was momentarily perplexed. “Oh, you mean the Guardian’s chambers. He does not like his things disturbed, and so out of respect we do not enter.”
Abruptly, as though he were on fire, Conrad turned to go and then stopped mid-stride. “And the decision to bring us here?”
“The Guardian insisted. I myself felt it would be too difficult for Outsiders, even ones as exceptional as you, to settle into Xanthia, but the Guardia
n was adamant.”
Conrad inhaled this information deeply into his lungs and held it there while his skin puckered into goose bumps. “I see,” he said, grabbing hold of Piper’s arm and pulling her away with him. Piper flinched at the contact; all warmth had drained from Conrad’s hand and his fingers were icy—as if someone had just walked over his grave.
CHAPTER
38
Conrad left Equilla in a controlled frenzy; his face was flushed, his hands brushed his hair back absently while he mumbled disjointed words beneath his breath. Piper could only catch a few snippets as she trotted next to him.
“Conrad, what’s going on?”
“Not now, Piper.”
Piper bolted into the air and zipped in front of Conrad, landing in his path. “Yes, now.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What does all of this mean?”
“Max is not who he seems.”
“So what?”
“If he is the Guardian then it was his decision to bring us here, right?”
Piper followed this. “Right.”
“Why? If no Outsider has ever set foot in Xanthia, then why did he choose us and why now?”
“Maybe he wanted to help us out.”
“Max doesn’t care about anyone. Against all odds and all reason he brought us here for a very important, very specific reason. He wanted something.”
Piper thought about what Conrad said and it made sense to her. “We were perfectly well and good on the farm until everything blew up at the Fall Festival.” Suddenly Piper stopped short with her mouth open. “It was Max!”
“What was Max?”
“At the festival. It was him!” Piper’s hands came to her head in alarm. “I was walking on the balcony and I saw you walking ahead of me, but it wasn’t you—it was Max. From behind you guys look like you’re twins.”
“Yes, I know. As soon as you pointed that out to me earlier I knew that Max had been at the festival. That’s why I didn’t go with him.”
“But why would he do that?” Piper looked to Conrad to help her understand and make sense of this too. “Why would he deliberately put us in danger and expose us?”
“So that we would have no choice but to come here.”
Conrad pushed past Piper and ran to what he had always thought of as the Knowledge Center, but now knew were Max’s chambers. Even though he’d left only an hour earlier and nothing had changed, the place looked entirely new in his eyes. The eyes in a painting of Cleopatra suddenly bored into him. The manacles from a slave ship tossed carelessly on a shelf loomed ominously, and a row of longbows pointed in his direction with menace.
Conrad feverishly rummaged through the room, pushing aside priceless vases, not caring if they remained whole or not. Piper, who appreciated their antiquity, followed behind Conrad and attempted to stop what destruction she could.
“Careful with that painting. No, you’ll make those parchments tear. Conrad, what are you doing?”
“Max is hiding something and I’m going to find it. He’s been one step ahead of me all this time. It was his decision to force AnnA to leave, and he knew she would tell you. He was also the one who selected her to be our guide. And he knows me well enough to know that I’d go to Equilla to try and change her mind. He knew that we would learn he is the Guardian.”
“You think he figured all of that out?”
“He wasn’t exactly born yesterday, and this last week he’s developed a pretty good understanding of how my mind works. So, yes, he would have known all of that.” Conrad tossed aside some armor only to find a few books and a Civil War cavalry sword behind it. Useless.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Piper wondered.
“Something out of place. Something that doesn’t belong.” Conrad barreled through parchment rolls, searching, searching. “Max has a secret, and if I know him he wants us to find it. It’s like a big game for him.”
“This is crazy, Conrad. It would take us months to go through this mausoleum.”
“Mausoleum?” In a very quiet, slow way Conrad looked at the chamber and nodded. “Yes, it is. That’s exactly what it is: a place of dead things.”
As the dank, low smell of rotting and death hit the back of his nostrils, Conrad’s eyes settled upon a painting of a young woman. Unlike everything else, she appeared to be a beacon of life, entirely different from everything around her. Around her neck was a necklace with a red stone in the middle—a bloodstone. Her image was so striking it surprised Conrad that he hadn’t taken notice of it before. There was a hopeful expression on her face, the kind of hope born from naïveté and unfettered innocence.
That very innocence, Conrad knew, could only be found in one place—Xanthia.
Piper was awed by the lifelike depiction too. “Jeez, she’s beautiful. You think she lived in ancient Greece?”
“No, I think she’s probably still alive.”
Piper reacted in surprise.
“The paint hasn’t cracked or faded. It’s no more than fifty years old. Look at the robes she’s wearing,” Conrad pointed out. “They’re Xanthian. Whoever she is, she’s a Chosen One and she’s got a bloodstone around her neck.”
He approached the painting and studied every inch, looking for clues. Finally when none could be found he gently placed his hands around the frame and felt for anything that might be unusual. Even though Conrad was not applying pressure the painting suddenly snapped off the wall and crashed to the ground.
Conrad had to leap out of the way or else get clobbered by the heavy frame. When it came to rest on the floor it kicked up a cloud of dust, and Piper and Conrad instinctively started to wave it from their eyes and cover their mouths.
At last the dust settled, revealing a small stone door on the wall where the painting had been. Carved into the center of the door was an intricately designed sun. With delicate and elegant lines the artist had somehow captured the feeling of heat rising off of the sun.
“Is that a snake?” Piper pointed to a strange shape that curved off the top of the sun.
“No, it’s not a snake,” Conrad said with certainty. Using the cloth on his tunic he began to brush the thick dust away and blow on the carving until it was clearly revealed.
“Oh, it’s a sword.” Piper could see it plainly now. “A sword in a sun.”
The sword was piercing the middle of the sun and droplets of blood dripped from the wound.
Conrad stepped back and allowed himself a full vantage of the entire carving. There is a sword in the sun. My mother is trapped in the sword in the sun. That is what his father had said to him on the roof of the White House. How had his father known of this carving? And what did it mean?
Even as possibilities were whizzing from one side of Conrad’s brain to the other he was pulling the key Max had given him from around his neck. He slid it into the small keyhole and it fit perfectly.
CLICK! The stone responded by vibrating. A low rumble emanated from the sun and it pushed its way into the rock, crumbling away in big angry chunks.
“What did you do?” Piper came to Conrad’s side.
Conrad watched as the sun fell to the floor, creating a hole in the wall. Through that hole was a passage.
Piper sucked a long breath in and held it.
When Conrad started to walk forward she clutched his arm and held him back. “Don’t go near that.”
“Piper, I have to see what’s in there.” Shaking his arm free, Conrad walked to the dark hole and peered inside.
At first all he could see was darkness. As his eyes adjusted he saw the outline of stone steps leading downward.
“I’m going in,” Conrad said.
CHAPTER
39
The stairs were narrow and slanted down at a steep incline. The ceiling was rounded and low, the air thick and close. Conrad had created a small torch to illuminate their journey down, down and into the belly of Mother Mountain. The descent seemed endless so that when Conrad’s foot finally hit the bottom it felt awkward as h
is body readjusted to level ground. Even with the light from the torch the darkness was bottomless.
The hallway that they found themselves in was wide and the ceiling was high, making them feel small and helpless. Thirty feet later the hallway ended and they stopped at the threshold to something much bigger. Foreboding kept Piper rooted to the spot. She grabbed Conrad’s arm and her fingers dug into him. “Let’s go back now. No farther.”
“You go back. I have to keep going. My father might be down here.”
Piper sighed deeply. As he watched Piper’s chest heave with a terrible fear, it seemed to Conrad that she might collapse on the spot. He remained still and in a few seconds she settled and started to float next to him. Getting her feet off the ground was having a calming effect that allowed her to continue on.
Now the darkness around them had no borders or end; no walls or ceiling could be seen and their footsteps echoed loudly. Because there was nothing to look at Conrad’s attention was drawn to the sound of their feet falling on the stone. The more intently he listened the stranger their steps became, as though Piper was limping. Stopping suddenly, Conrad looked back—Piper was still hovering behind him! He hadn’t been listening to her footsteps at all.
In complete stillness Piper and Conrad listened to the sound of two feet walking. They sounded something like this:
Thump. Drag. Thump. Drag.
“What is that?” Piper breathed in Conrad’s ear.
Conrad’s breath caught in his throat; his skin tingled with fear and dread.
Piper’s hand shot out in front of her at the same time she grabbed Conrad’s arm. She was pointing straight ahead at a creature that was walking in a hobbled manner, dragging one leg behind it.
Neither of them moved. The creature didn’t see them, which was impossible since they were holding torches that burned brightly in this place of darkness.
Tufts of gray hair were dangling from the creature’s head and in patches there was no hair at all, but a sort of grayish dirty skin. Its body had rags drawn about it and it moved slowly. Piper’s and Conrad’s eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness now, allowing them to discern a massive pile of stones on either side of what seemed to be a football-field-size cavern. The stones were piled to the ceiling and about as large as a breadbox each.