“And this gave Demogorgon a truly hideous idea. He would have his halfling children, Magus, Caphiera, Atroposa, and Lachestia, serve him by inciting ever greater conflicts. The more people that populated the earth, the more sheep for his slaughter and his feast. And Demogorgon saw a time thousands of years later when the earth would be so densely populated that if enough mortals were swept up in a great conflict and suffered or died, he could gain enough power to allow him to break free of his prison and exert his revenge on the gods by destroying their precious planet.
“Laodamia foretold of a time when the earth would be generously populated and a great war, larger than any that had ever been waged, would be incited by and propelled by Demogorgon’s children, and millions and millions would suffer and die. And because of this vision, she also knew that the future of mankind was in great peril.”
Ian heard Carl gulp next to him. He turned and saw that his friend’s eyes were large with fear, and he knew that Carl must be thinking, like he was, of Theo’s horrible prediction of the rise of the Fury and the devastation that would follow “What would happen if he broke free?” Carl asked meekly.
The professor sighed heavily “Armageddon,” he said simply. “The god of the underworld would turn the world over to his children, who upon his release would be ten thousand times more powerful. He would give each child one quarter of the world to rule. Magus, the ruler of fire, would turn his quarter to a wasteland of lava and ash. Caphiera would bury her quarter in one hundred kilometers of ice. Lachestia would churn the earth in her quarter down to rubble and rock and not much else. And Atroposa would strip all the land bare in her quarter with wild cyclones and hurricanes. No mortal would be left alive and the earth would soon find itself as barren as the moon.”
Silence fell on the room as everyone absorbed what that world would be like, and Ian felt a deep chill settle into his stomach. His logical mind told him that this was all a bit of myth that coincidentally matched up with another bit of myth a world away and just happened to slide nicely next to Theo’s predictions of impending doom, but still, it all rattled him to the marrow.
Finally, Ian asked, “Did Laodamia say when these events were likely to occur?”
The professor lifted his hands into a steeple and rested his chin atop his fingertips. “That is where our story gets a bit murky,” he said. When Ian cocked his head in confusion, the old man explained, “We believe that around the time Laodamia prophesized this gloomy portrait, things within her own city took a turn for the worse. The political climate shifted against her for some unknown reason, and she was forced to divine all other prophecies secretly. This was when the Oracle covertly commissioned the creation of the silver boxes to hold her most important prophecies. It was rumored that Laodamia knew of a power greater than Demogorgon and it became her mission to assist this beacon of hope by hiding her six most precious prophecies in the far corners of the earth. I know through the journals of Adria that Laodamia left these boxes with trusted friends, relatives, and disciples with explicit instruction that they were to hand them down from generation to generation until the offspring identified by Laodamia were to hide the boxes in specified locations.
“After authenticating the silver box that you discovered against Adria’s blueprint—which has always rested in my sole possession and, to my knowledge, has never been reproduced—I believe that it, Master Wigby, is one of the boxes Laodamia had commissioned. I further believe that the great Oracle of Delphi knew that you and your friend Theo would play an integral role in some grand prophecy involving what she called the Rise of Demogorgon.”
Ian felt the air leave his lungs, and the room took on a hot and stifling atmosphere. He struggled to breathe, panic overwhelming him. As if from the other end of a tunnel, he heard Carl exclaim, “Ian and Theo? But what’ve they got to do with it?”
“Professor Nutley has translated all of the writing on the cavern wall and the scroll found in the treasure box,” Thatcher answered, snapping Ian back. “Professor, would you like to explain to the boys what you told me about the deciphering?”
“I took a cue from you, young lad,” said the professor with a wry smile as he pointed a crooked finger at Carl. “It was how you looked at the writing on the scroll and saw the word ‘the.’ I told you then that it was impossible for the scroll to start out that way. For one, you were reading in the wrong direction, and for another, the ancient Phoenicians had no vowels in their vocabulary. Instead, the vowels were implied in the way the consonants were arranged. But when I took the scroll out and looked at it with fresh eyes, I realized that the characters that were unfamiliar to me actually were crude renditions of vowels that closely resemble ours in the English language.
“Further, I noticed that some of the consonants that were unfamiliar in Phoenician, because they were backward or completely invented, also resembled some of the consonant sounds in our own language. It took me the better part of the week to work out the alphabet, but once I worked that out, I also began looking at the wording from left to right, just as Carl had. That’s when I made the remarkable discovery that the scroll was written in English using Phoenician traditional scripting and some of these crude letters for vowels and other missing consonants!”
Ian’s heart was racing and he felt as if the unnatural events of the last several weeks might finally be catching up with him. “May we hear what it says, then?” he asked in a croaky whisper.
“Yes, yes,” the professor said, and waved at Thatcher to come to his desk and take the small notebook he was lifting toward him. “Master Goodwyn, if you will read first the translation from the walls in the cavern where the silver box was discovered by Master Wigby?”
Thatcher took the notebook and flipped it around to read.
“‘For the eyes and ears of Ian Wigby’” Thatcher began. “‘Laodamia sends her heartfelt thanks and greetings. May this prophecy serve you and the Oracles well.’” Thatcher looked up again and the professor gave him an approving smile. “Now to the prophecy itself,” the professor said. Ian was still trying to absorb that the great Oracle of Delphi had personally greeted and thanked him.
The professor flipped through his own notes and cleared his throat before reciting what sounded to Ian’s ears very much like a dark poem.
“The first of you shall be the last
As darkness looms and shadows cast
The god of Under strikes a blow
As vile evil stirs below
He calls upon his children four
To find the orphans much before
The fate of man can be ordained
The death of many he must claim
To break out of his fiery hell
Hear this call to serve you well
Gather courage and your wits
Search for boxes—never quit
Until the last of six is found
And Delphi’s mystics now are bound
To face the Four and take a stand
Against the threat to all the land
But first you’ll start with scroll and map
To lead you down a hidden trap
Into the cavern by the wood
Descend the stairs and hope you should
Have the Seer by your side
To ask the door to open wide
And save you from an icy death
Before her daggers steal your breath
Go beyond Caphiera’s reach
The first such place upon the beach
A quest of six and no less few
To find the Seeker young and true
Seeker leads you to the Star
Vital to your journeys far
Seeker guides you deep in stone
Language now is not unknown
Serve you well upon your quest
Break the Star to serve you best
Tuck back through and do not tarry
Time is key to all you carry
Find the next, there’s five to come
Each will give one part of sum
>
Will you win or will you lose?
It will lie in who you choose.”
The professor set his notes down, and a long moment of silence followed while Ian blinked rapidly in confusion. He had no idea what most of the poem was saying, nor what he could possibly have to do with any of it.
Thatcher finally spoke. “What do you think, Ian?” he asked.
Ian looked up at his schoolmaster, his expression doubtful. “I’m afraid that I haven’t the faintest idea, sir,” he said. Then something occurred to him. “But maybe this Seer that Laodamia is referring to—could that be Theo?”
Thatcher beamed. “That’s what I believe,” he said, and he looked at the professor. “I’ve brought Professor Nutley up to date on all Theo’s abilities and predictions.”
“Remarkable girl,” said the professor with a nod. “Much of the middle and end of this, however,” he said with a wave of his hand over the translation, “doesn’t make a great deal of sense to us either.”
“That part about gathering Delphi’s mystics …,” said Carl thoughtfully. “Do you think she was talking about her Delphi or ours? You know, how our home is called Delphi Keep?”
The professor shook his head. “I can’t be sure,” he said. “But I’ll give you that it is a rather remarkable coincidence that both Laodamia and you lot should be gathered in a place named Delphi.”
Ian agreed; the coincidence seemed too remarkable to shrug off and he wondered again what the Oracle could possibly want with him.
“Do you have a theory on what the Star could be?” asked Thatcher. “Perhaps this is a constellation that Laodamia referred to in other prophecies?”
The professor furrowed his brow. “There was no mention of any star or constellation in any of the scrolls Barnaby discovered on his dig in Delphi—but then, I must conclude that we likely have only uncovered a portion of the Oracle’s writings.”
“What’s a Seeker?” asked Ian.
“Ah, well, that I may know a little bit about,” said the professor. “One of Laodamia’s many talents was her alleged power over crystals. She used them extensively in her healing practices and fostered a school for other gifted Oracles who gravitated toward harnessing the individual power of crystals.”
“Crystals have power?” Carl asked, taking the question right out of Ian’s mouth.
The professor looked thoughtful. “I have personally never given much credence to the idea, but it is based on a bit of real science. Crystals, you see, are formed from the condensation of gases and pressure deep within the earth. The result is a series of repeating lattices made up of molecules that form an overall unique structure. This latticework is what gives the crystal its shape, color, and clarity. Within every crystal there are molecules that get left out of the chain of latticework and become free-floating. When energy is introduced to the crystal in the form of, say, heat, it can excite these free-floating molecules and they begin to vibrate, bouncing back and forth within the walls of the latticework in a unique rhythm.
“People who subscribe to the idea of metaphysical attributes of crystals believe that there are certain individuals of powerful intuitive ability who can excite these molecules without using heat, that they can will them to vibrate, using their minds. The vibrations act as a sort of metronome. It is believed that when this energized crystal is given to someone who has a physical malady, the crystal restores the body’s natural rhythms or creates some sort of medicinal effect.
“Laodamia called those intuitives who could create these rhythms from crystals Seekers, because she noticed that these Oracles were always seeking to bring out the power of the crystal they encountered.”
“So this Star isn’t really a star, then,” Ian observed, his hand subconsciously smoothing over the lump in his trouser pocket, where he carried Theo’s crystal. He couldn’t help wondering if maybe she was both the Seer and the Seeker in Laodamia’s prophecy. “It must be some kind of a crystal?”
The professor looked down at his notes again and barked a laugh. “I believe you’re quite right, Ian. The trouble is that the word ‘star’ is often used to describe many of the world’s most valuable diamonds and precious gemstones. I know of several, in fact, that are within the collection of the crown jewels, including the Great Star of Africa on the king’s scepter, which is also the second largest diamond in the world.”
“Do you think this Star that Laodamia wants us to find is one of the crown jewels?” asked Thatcher, and his expression suggested to Ian that he wasn’t at all pleased with the thought of nicking one of the crown jewels.
“I’ve no idea,” answered the professor with a sigh. “The prophecy states that we must look upon a beach, but I’ve never heard of anyone finding such a precious mineral there.” Ian immediately discounted the idea that maybe the crystal in his pocket was the Star. It had come to Theo from her mother, not from the beach, and he thought that if her crystal was the Star, Laodamia wouldn’t be talking about quests and seekers; she would just refer to the gemstone and be done with it. “Like I said,” continued the professor, “much of this prophecy seems to make no sense.”
The room fell back into silence as the foursome considered again the lines from the poem. Suddenly, Carl’s face brightened. “Ian!” he said excitedly. “Do you think that part about the map and the trap and the cavern in the woods with the stairs could be that tunnel we found last Sunday? You know, because it doesn’t lead anywhere but to a wall? And that soldier—he certainly got trapped, didn’t he?”
Ian sucked in a breath and gave Carl a firm look, reminding the boy that the tunnel was a secret, but it was too late: the truth was out. Thatcher looked sharply at Carl and asked, “What tunnel and what soldier?”
“Er …,” said Carl.
“Um …,” said Ian, his mind racing to find a plausible response.
“Look here, lads,” said Thatcher, his tone stern. “If you two know of something within this prophecy that makes sense, we’d best hear it and hear it now.”
“Well,” said Carl, fidgeting with his cuff and looking at Ian, who nodded reluctantly. Carl might as well tell them the rest. “It’s just that we might have found the tunnel from the map that was pulled out of the box … you know, the tunnel that was left off Ian’s original map at the keep?”
The professor reached into his desk drawer and carefully pulled out the silver box. He opened the lid, extracted the folded map, and unfolded it carefully; then, placing it in the center of his desk, he demanded, “Show me.”
Carl hopped off his chair and walked over to the desk. “It’s this one, right, Ian?” he asked over his shoulder.
Ian came to the desk and nodded. “That’s the one,” he mumbled. “We found it last Sunday, but I don’t expect to go there ever again,” he said quickly, thinking that he’d be in a load of trouble now unless he promised to quit his exploits.
Carl shivered. “I’ll certainly never go there again!” he said. “Not after what we found.”
“What did you find?” asked Thatcher. Ian could have thumped his friend on the head. Carl was making it worse before Ian had a chance to explain.
“It was horrible,” Carl said dramatically, oblivious to Ian’s discomfort. “We saw a skeleton sticking right out of the tunnel wall!”
“Skeleton?” gasped the professor, who looked to Ian for confirmation. “You found human remains?”
“Yes, sir,” said Ian with a frown, and he tried to put the professor at ease. “Carl and I are certain the remains are very old. They might even be the bones of a soldier who hid Laodamia’s treasure box in the cavern for me to find.”
“Why do you think the skeleton is a soldier?” asked Thatcher.
“Because there was a helmet next to the bones in the rock and it looked very old and covered in dust.”
The professor was eyeing them eagerly. “What kind of helmet?”
“Well,” said Ian, “it looked a bit like an egg, and I believe it was made out of bronze.”
Th
e professor hurried to his bookcase and began running his fingers over the spines of the books jammed into the shelving. After a few moments he pulled out a volume and flipped it open. Bringing it back to the desk, he turned it around to show Ian and Carl.
Ian studied the black-and-white photograph of a helmet in the book but he shook his head. “That’s close,” he said, “but the one we found is a bit higher at the point, and the nose plate is thicker.”
Carl nodded in agreement and the professor paused before taking the book and flipping a few pages forward. He lowered it so that the boys could see.
“That’s it!” said Carl excitedly. “That’s the helmet we saw in the tunnel!”
The professor sat down abruptly in his chair. “You’re certain?” he asked.
“Yeah,” said Carl with confidence. “We can show you where it is, if you’d like, and you can see for yourself.”
Thatcher picked up the book and read the title aloud: “‘Armor of the Ancient Greeks.’”
“Yes,” said the professor. “The one the boys have identified belonged to the era of Laodamia—roughly 1400 BC—and not to the era of the writing on the wall you discovered in the first tunnel, which I’ve already dated to be about a thousand years later—400 BC.”
“How are both possible?” asked Thatcher, scratching his head.
“I’ve no idea,” said the professor, “but I mean to find out.” Turning to Ian and Carl, he said, “Boys, you will take me to this tunnel immediately! I must see this helmet for myself.”
“Oh, it’s no longer there,” said Carl. “We hid it in some rocks just outside the woods.”