Jack Staples and the City of Shadows (9 page)

Chapter 12

A CHILD NO LONGER

 

Elion and Jack had been walking through the jungle for more than a week—a blessedly uneventful week, save for one evening.

Each night as they made camp, Jack trained with Ashandar for an hour or more. Elion made him train blindfolded, claiming he needed to “feel” the sword's movement. Yet only once had Jack felt the handle warm in his hands. Elion had told him not to move until he felt Ashandar prompting him to move. The sword knew battle more than he ever would, and if he listened, it would teach him. Then Elion left to collect wood for a fire.

Jack stood blindfolded, with Ashandar outstretched, for almost forty minutes, but all he felt was the biting bugs. He had been about to take the blindfold off when the sword began to warm. Ashandar called to him, and without thinking, Jack began to move.

There were no wild swings or leaps and kicks as he'd imagined; rather it was a steady flow of intricate strikes and twists of the blade. He gave himself to the sword. Somehow he moved among the thick roots without ever tripping. Jack felt as though he were dancing, both graceful and calculating.

Sweat poured from him and his muscles burned, yet the movements became more natural with each passing second. His breathing was labored, but he didn't slow. Ashandar was fire in his hands. As the movements became routine, he thought of his mother, father, and brother. He remembered everyone sitting around the kitchen table and laughing at one of Parker's jokes. He remembered building a giant snowman in his front yard with Parker and Father.

Jack continued to move, unsure whether he himself was moving his body or Ashandar was—until something changed. He froze, a feeling of terror rising inside him. Something evil had entered the jungle; he could feel the darkness pressing against him. A sickly sweet smell filled the air as bird and insect went eerily silent.

“NO MATTER WHERE YOU RUN, YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE ME.”

Jack gasped. He knew this voice. Yet he couldn't make himself move. He wanted to remove the blindfold, to run, to scream for Elion, but his muscles wouldn't listen. Ashandar was fire in his hands, and the sword was willing him to stay perfectly still.

“YOUR DEATH WILL END THIS WAR, JACK STAPLES. BUT I WILL NOT STOP WITH YOU. I WILL DESTROY EVERYONE YOU KNOW AND LOVE. YOUR FATHER AND BROTHER, YOUR FRIENDS …”

Jack barely breathed. Every word the Assassin spoke was like a knife in his heart. Ashandar called to him, and he lunged forward, extending the blade and twisting it upward. “No!” he screamed.

“NOOO!” the Assassin's scream echoed.

Jack stumbled as Ashandar cooled, and he landed flat on his face. He ripped the blindfold off and rolled onto his back. The jungle was perfectly normal now—insects chirping and birds calling. Before he could rise, Elion was there. She stood on the tips of her toes, with a short sword in her hands. Her hair glowed with a golden light, and her eyes were silvery gold.

“What happened?” Her voice was tight.

Jack told her everything. When he finished, Elion sheathed her sword. “I will not pretend to understand what just happened, and I do not doubt what you heard, but it may not have been the Assassin. Yet I'm sure we'll find out soon enough.” She scanned the surrounding jungle and offered Jack a hand. “For now at least, I think the danger has passed.”

Most of his evenings were pleasantly uneventful. After he trained with Ashandar, Jack sat around a fire with Elion and talked. And each night Jack asked as many questions as he could before he fell asleep from exhaustion. One night he asked Elion how long it would take to get to the garden.

“I don't know,” she said. “The Forbidden Garden is never where you found it last.”

“Then how do you find it?”

“So long as you believe you are walking toward it, you will arrive eventually. But you must believe.”

“But how does it move? I don't understand.”

“The garden doesn't move exactly, but it is always where it needs to be. And apparently it needs to be in Brazil right now.”

Jack was excited to finally be getting answers. Most answers Elion gave only brought new questions, but she seemed happy to answer anything he asked.

The next night, Jack and Elion sat around a small fire, roasting a rabbit on a stick. “Elion, can you tell me what's truly happening? I don't understand most of it.” He was so confused most of the time that he didn't know what to ask.

Elion stared into the fire. “Do you know what an Oriax is, Jack?”

“I don't think so.” He was puzzled by the question. “I guess I thought they were from your world, something the Assassin created—something evil.”

“The Assassin does not have the power to create, only to distort.” Elion's eyes became a thunderstorm. “Every Oriax was once a normal animal.”

“But how can an animal change like that?”

“As I keep telling you, all creation must make the choice: Will I follow the Author or will I become enslaved to the Assassin?”

“But what does that have to do with Oriax?”

“When humans choose evil, your souls become distorted. But for animals the distortions are on the outside.

“The Assassin wants to remake the world in his image. And his is a world without mercy. When men or animals choose to follow him, at first they like what they find. They are offered power and riches; they are shown a world without rules. But power will never satisfy. It is a sickness. The more you have, the more you want. And riches have no more meaning than a tool, like a hammer or saw.”

Jack remembered Agartha. Diamonds and silver had been placed inside the stone to help strengthen the city. To the Awakened, a diamond was no more valuable than a stone.

“It doesn't take long for those who follow the Assassin to realize they have become his slaves. They seek power but will never hold enough. They gain riches but are never satisfied. They chase glory and become consumed by jealousy. So when the Assassin demands that his followers murder, steal, and destroy in order to find more power, wealth, and glory, they do it. And their souls become even more distorted.”

Jack was cold as he listened to her words.

“An Oriax is merely a beast that has given itself fully to the Assassin. It has killed again and again. And what it kills it devours. And what it devours it becomes.”

Jack shivered.

Elion reached into a small bag and produced some bread and cheese. “Once an animal begins to change, it will seek out its new master. The Oriax can find their masters—Shadule, Drogule, and Grendalls—in the same way a homing pigeon finds its way home.”

As Elion spoke, the fire sent shadows dancing across her face. “The world changed when you stabbed the Assassin. He cannot heal from a wound given by Ashandar. Even now the evil spills from him, and where it blows, insanity follows.”

“I didn't know.” Jack was horrified. “I didn't mean to … I would never have …”

“You need not apologize. It was inevitable that the Assassin's evil would spread. But he is also wounded, and that is a good thing! No matter how many followers he finds, the Assassin is our true enemy. I tell you this because you need to know that just because the scales have fallen from someone's eyes, it does not make him or her good. We must choose the right thing even when our eyes are open.”

“Like the man,” Jack said. “Like Korah.”

A troubled look entered Elion's eyes. “Yes, like Korah. He was once one of us. He was a member of the Council of Seven and more zealous than most. But he refused instruction and did not seek wisdom. I fear what he will do to Alexia.”

Jack's chest tightened. Every time he thought of Alexia, he struggled to breathe. She was his friend. And knowing Alexia was out there, knowing she was also special, made Jack feel less alone. “Will the Assassin hurt her? Will he torture her?”

“Yes, he will hurt her,” Elion said, “but not in the way you are thinking. The Assassin is a master of distortion and manipulation. What Alexia once saw as evil will become entertainment, and what once sickened may eventually satisfy.”

 

With each passing day, Alexia was feeling more comfortable in Thaltorose. She no longer dreaded her time with Belial. But she was surprised to find that her least favorite hours were those spent with her father. He was so different.

Alexia rose from her massive bed and reached for her cloak and sling, then stopped. Her heart sank—her cloak and sling were gone. The Atherial Cloak had been missing since she'd first awoken in Thaltorose—and now this. In place of her familiar clothing was a black-and-silver uniform just like her father's.

Tears welled in her eyes. The evening before, Alexia had gone to the war chamber to meet her father. Here, too, the floor was marble and the walls studded with gemstones, but the chamber also housed thousands of weapons.

There were barbed spears, spiked axes, and razor-encrusted halberds. There were balls of steel that exploded when thrown and swords with spiked pommels. There were whips with nine tails, each ending in something sharp. The walls were filled with more weapons than Alexia could have imagined.

As she stood gaping, her father entered behind her. “A sling is a child's toy,” he'd snarled. “It was fine for a small girl, but you are older now and must learn how to fight with a real weapon.”

“But you made me this sling!” Alexia said. “And I'm quite good with it. I practice every day.”

Her father snatched the sling away and tossed it aside. “Do you want to be a little girl forever?”

She was heartbroken, but she didn't want to disappoint him. She walked to the wall and retrieved a thin sword with a rounded blade. He nodded approvingly at the weapon and then drew his own bone-white sword. They trained for hours—and her father was an exceptionally harsh teacher. He never showed her something more than once, and when she did something wrong, he screamed at her.

At the end of the training, her father had called to her. “One more thing, Daughter.” She turned to face him, hoping to hear just one word of encouragement. “You need a new cloak,” he said. “If you are to rule this city, you must dress appropriately.”

“No!” Alexia gasped. “This was made from the dress Mother made me. I don't want to stop wearing it!”

“Do not cross me, girl,” he said. “I expect obedience and perfection from you. Or are these things too much to ask?”

Alexia backed away. “Please, Father, let me keep it!”

Her father looked at her a moment, then shook his head. “You are a young woman now. Every time you act like a child, you shame me.” Without another word he ripped the cloak and sling from her arms and stalked away. That night, Alexia had cried herself to sleep.

Now Alexia sat in her bed feeling sick as she stared at the uniform.
I need to grow up
, she thought bitterly.
I'm not a little girl anymore, and I can't just sit in bed and cry!

Until now Alexia had spent her days exploring the palace. But she was growing bored with staying inside, and though she was starting to enjoy her times with Belial, she only met him at the end of the day. Besides answering her questions, Belial had begun teaching her how to control her gifts. In addition to having agility and balance, he claimed, Alexia could manipulate animals. He said she could control them if she learned how. This excited her more than anything. But there were no animals in the palace to try to control.

Alexia dressed hurriedly and tried not to think of her cloak and sling as she left her room. She didn't bother summoning a servant. She was still full from the meal of spiced lamb, potatoes, chicken potpie, apple pie, and ice cream she'd had the night before. Today Alexia planned to finally explore Thaltorose. She wanted to find some animals to see if she could control them.
If the city really is mine
, she thought,
I should at least see it.
When she stepped out of the palace courtyard and onto the city street, Alexia gaped.