

Adventures of Jacko the Conjurer

The Dawn

By Jamie Ott
Copyright   Jamie Ott 2012. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used without written permission.

For all inquiries, please contact ladysonoma@mail.com.
The Dawn
Chapter 1

"Where are we?"

"The dawn," Lucem replied.

Jacko looked around, trying to see some form of something, but all he saw was white haziness all about. He was closed in by clouds through which bits of golden light randomly broke through sections. Looking down, he saw that he stood not on ground, but upon the same cloudy substance.

From all around, there was a loud humming noise. The hazy clouds shifted about him as well as under his feet, yet he stood without tumbling.

"Why are we here?"

But Lucem didn't respond.

A soft voice came from all around them.

"Lucem?" it said.

Jacko looked for the source of the voice when, from his left, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen floated toward them. She was wearing a gauzy white robe, and her hair fell down to her waist in long white curls. Her eyes were the color of bluish crystal. She reminded him of the many paintings he'd seen of goddesses from the dark ages.

"Meet my mother, Aurora."

Briefly, Jacko had a flashback to a time when his mother told him a story about the goddess Eos, or as Lucem introduced her, Aurora.

She was the dawn.

"Son," she said.

"Hello, Mother."

She leant over and kissed Lucem on his porcelain white cheek.

"I see you've brought Jacko."

She, then, bent over and kissed him with her ruby red lips that, unlike Lucem's skin which was like cold stone, were soft and warm.

Such was the plight of a god that wasn't born out of the chaos, which was another universe that died so long ago that man didn't have a way of measuring such distance yet. Gods like Lucem were another sort of half breed god. As they aged, their skin would harden, turn white, and then slowly lose corporeal form, leaving behind pure consciousness. Not Aurora, however, for when she kissed him, he felt life flow into him. She was an essence form that was above the realm of physicality.

They all stood motionless for a moment. Aurora peered eerily into Lucem's eyes, yet they said nothing. It occurred to Jacko that they were communicating without him. Then Lucem disappeared without a word.

"Lucem? Don't leave me alone. Come back!" he panicked.

"He's got work to do. Someone or something has disturbed his place of rest."

At the moment, the gods were engaged in pre-war. Much of the fighting was taking place in space. Lucem's place of rest was Venus. To destroy Venus would be to destroy Lucem, as some gods were tethered to their place in the heavens.

Jacko looked up at Aurora's enormous form. She stared back down at him with the eyes and face of a ghost come to life. There was something about these figures whose supernatural life gleamed from their pores, making their beauty just as frightening as it was eye catching.

"Please don't look at me like that; it makes me uncomfortable."

From the corner of Jacko's eyes, something gleamed at him. He ignored it at first because he was waiting for Aurora to speak, but the gleam turned to a bright shine.

He looked left and right and saw a strange silvery substance bleeding inward and soaking up the white clouds. The substance spread out, snuffing out the light.

"Aurora," he yelled. "What's going on? Stop it!"

She remained motionless and unblinking.

He backed away from the silver liquid which got too close to his feet. It looked as though it would swallow them both up. Jacko tried to back up more, but there was an invisible wall that kept him from getting further away.

The silvery substance caught up to Aurora and coated her supernatural form, blotting out her bluish eyes until she was like a hardened statue.

When Jacko screamed in horror, her voice came back.

"In the rise of my time, we were nothing but dimensional matter. The Earth was a molten rock."

The scene changed.

"This is what it was before the gods."

His heart jumped in his chest as he looked around and saw they were no longer in the hazy cloud that was Aurora's form, but instead stood upon a bright orange-red runny substance that he suspected was magma. There were no land forms and, in the distance, he saw a herd of black cherubs galloping across the land.

Thankfully, the scene changed, and next, they were standing on floors so white that they pained Jacko's eyes. He looked left and right and saw the walls weren't walls at all, but a fluffy white wispy, cotton-looking substance.

To their right there was a grand dining table that Jacko couldn't see the end of. It appeared to go on forever, yet at the end closest to where he and Aurora stood, sat an earlier version of Aurora and several other majestic looking gods.

"My parents," present-day Aurora said, "Pallas and Styx."

"Eos," said the largest figure of them all. He had curly brown hair pushed down his forehead by the weight of a gold crown. He sat at the end of the table with an extremely large goblet in front of him. "Why do you want to save the world? It's not your problem."

"Why would you do nothing as the demons destroy her?" asked the younger Aurora.

"Gaia's old, and she's strong. If she doesn't want the demons there, then let her expel them herself."

"She's lost in unconsciousness, as is what happens to our kind over time. When the demons first inhabited the Earth, there was progress and the crusts were forming into something beautiful. Why, didn't you see those patches of green and brown substance near the Eastern divide? They were spectacular! Now it's nothing but red liquid heat everywhere! Do you think Gaia would be happy in such misery?"

"I don't care," said Pallas. "You need to mind your business. Focus on your nuptials and leave the Earth to the demons."

"And what about your son, Helius? How long will you keep him exiled?"

"Forever!" he shouted at her. "Once a son turns on his father, he must start his own house. Helius is, now, his own man."

"Because he doesn't agree? Because he has different ideas of what his life is supposed to be?"

Suddenly, Pallas stood up, knocking over his goblet. "Be quiet! I've had enough of you!"

"Mother!" Aurora cried to the woman who sat across from her.

But the woman merely bowed her head, looking intently on her plate of grapes and bread.

"That is enough! To your room!" shouted Pallas.

When she wouldn't leave willingly, he flicked his arm and she was whisked away by a large funnel of wind.

The scene changed once more. They were in a misty chamber of some sort. Aurora was there and, by the looks of it, she'd been confined for some time. Over a large stone structure with a basin she leant, looking into some silvery substance it was filled with. Images played themselves across the surface, though Jacko couldn't make out what they were. All along the structure were strange carvings of snake like beings.

Although he couldn't see inside the stone basin, whatever happened in there upset Aurora. She ran to a side of the room, for there were no doors, and commanded the white cotton looking substance to allow her through. When it didn't yield to her, she called out to Ananke to help her.

"Who's Ananke?"

"She's our goddess: the very beginning of time and fate. If it wasn't for her, I would've never been able to do what I was destined. Watch."

Ananke must have heard her cry, for the montage-Aurora was bathed in a golden light that shone down through the white cotton substance ceiling. Aurora glowed golden light out of her pores and eyes, and without further hesitation, she ran through the walls.

The scene followed her as she ran down an endless hallway of doors, and then suddenly seemed to be outside where the ground was nothing but clouds, and the sky was space, itself.

She ran across the cloud-ground up to a set of enormous shiny silver gates. Instinctively, Jacko knew it was heaven's gates.

Just like his mother told him, she pulled back the gates, allowing copious amounts of the cloud-ground to spill down into the next viable absorbing source: the Earth.

Jacko and both Auroras' stood at the gates and looked down as the substance fell into the Earth's atmosphere, turning the sky from red to a blanket of fluffy white.

He saw something move from out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head.

"Helius!" the montage-Aurora screamed.

"Your brother is the sun?" Jacko said with surprise.

Helius was as large as the star, itself. Just like legend said, he steered a chariot of galloping pegasus' across the dark matter of space. With his mouth wide opened, Jacko watched as Helius cantered toward the Earth's atmosphere. Trailing behind him was a large gold beam of light that streaked across the atmosphere, blending in with the clouds.

Then a roaring sound came from behind Jacko. He and both Auroras' turned and saw that a mass of sparkling blue substance moved toward them, leaked around their ankles, and spilled down. Instead of blending with the gold beams and clouds, it blasted through them, revealing the magma earth.

Jacko's heart sped as the substance met the magma, cooling it and filling the craters of the Earth.

Someone stood behind them; Jacko turned. A man with skin as blue and fluid as the water: Oceanus. He gently hugged Aurora.

"Good job, little sister," he said, and then walked across the dark matter of space, through the clouds, and descended down to Earth where he cooled the surface and blended into the ocean.

Even from where they stood, Jacko could hear the demon cries coming from the Earth. Light and warmth wasn't conducive to their genetics.

Although Jacko and Aurora remained dry as the substance continued to wash around them, montage-Aurora stood there, drenched in water and watching the Earth's atmosphere turn to a crystal blue color.

The atmosphere was fresh looking unlike the dullness of today's sky which was so heavily polluted.

Helius, continued, on his golden chariot, west ward across Earth's sky; gold trails still following.

"So what happened to the demons?" asked Jacko, feeling completely awe stricken.

"They died."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because it's important that you know your family's history."

"Why didn't Pallas want to help Gaia?"

"She's an outcast for leaving her husband, Ouranus. Her demon defilement was a punishment."

A large grumble sounded out from Jacko's stomach. One thing the gods kept forgetting was that he needed rest and nourishment regularly.

Aurora must have understood, for the scene changed to the same room that she dined in with her parents. There, as before, was a grand dining table with chairs that went on for miles.

"How far does this table go?"

"As far as the heavens stretch."

The table was laden with food and drink that went on for just as long as the table. Jacko looked for the point where the food would begin to repeat its order, but there didn't seem to be one.

His oral glands salivated at the sight of the suckling pig as big as a horse, the vine that held grapes the size of apples, and the bucket sized carafe whose ruby red liquid gleamed with certain richness.

Hungry though Jacko was, he was uncertain about touching one bit of food, as in heaven, it had a funny effect on the mind and body. His first time eating, he became extremely giddy and shoveled pizza, burgers and fries into his mouth at an alarming rate. It took immense concentration from a living human to eat such food without getting what they called "the helium effect." At the moment, he wasn't sure he would be able to keep control of himself, and especially since he was dead tired.

Just as he was considering excusing himself, so he could return to Earth and eat, she said, "Don't worry, Jacko, you'll be fine. This place isn't the same as the place where the demigods rest."

"Why do gods eat?"

"As Althenio said to you, one needs to live off of something that lives, in order to live. We like to take something that lives in food form because it's pleasurable. We invented eating."

"But what about meat? It's dead when we eat it?"

"Yes, but only recently. The molecules live, though they slowly die. It takes much time to consume, and literally snuff out life force energy, than you realize. More than fire or your digestive system has."

Not wanting to wait anymore, Jacko shuffled into a chair and reached to pull a leg off the pig.

"One moment, Jacko."

He froze with the pig leg meat just touching his lips.

Suddenly, bodies began to appear around the table. Immediately, he recognized two of the figures from the montage.

"This is my brother, Helius."

He sat directly across from Jacko.

Instead of hair, flames danced on his head. As he nodded, the fire momentarily lost its balance, making it look as though it had extinguished, but appeared again once his head set upright.

To Jacko's relief, Helius looked away quickly, because in his eyes, flames danced across the surface showing no regard for the boundaries of his pupils, irises, or scleras.

Gesturing to the man who sat to Helius' right, she said, "And this is my other brother, Oceanus."

He was much easier to look at, as he seemed to be made of sparkling blue fluid that moved about inside his bluish-clear skin. In a way, his appearance reminded him of a human shaped water globe. In his eyes, Jacko could see the oceans of the Earth sway and sparkle.

"Gaia," Aurora said, sounding surprised.

Left of Helius, three seats over and across, sat the ghost child he'd met some weeks ago.

"I heard you'd awakened but I didn't believe it."

She stood, walked over, and kissed her on both cheeks before taking a seat next to Jacko.

Right as Aurora sat, they were joined by one more guest.

A bright light shone right beside him, even more blinding than the white of the floors.

"Aah!" screamed Jacko. He covered his burning eyes with his hands.

"Lucis!" said Aurora. "It's okay, Jacko, you may look now."

"What was that?"

"This is Lucis, the infamous light demon."

Where the white light was, a moment ago, stood a man with skin and eyes as black as coal, like the skin of the demons from the red lands; only their skin was shiny black like patent leather. When not luminous, this demon appeared to be absent of all color and light.

"If he's a demon, then why is he here? Shouldn't he be on the other side?"

"Unlike the others, he cannot survive in the dark. Ever hear stories of burning bushes and men being blinded by lights? What they really saw was light demons, like Lucis."

Like marble statues, the gods looked strangely mechanical as they chewed hill sized bits of food that they shoveled into their enormous mouths with their ruler sized forks.

The size of the dinnerware was also a problem for Jacko, who had to scoop water from a mug with his hand because it was made with a material that was very heavy. Finally, Oceanus was kind enough to summon an angel to serve him.

"Actually, Jacko, this is a putti; they're not angels."

"What's a putti?"

"Servents of Cupid. They're lesser gods that were made to serve Eros. Eros is long gone into unconsciousness, so sometimes we borrow the putti; otherwise they'd have nothing to do."

Jacko observed the little winged baby-like creature. It was almost exactly like the bat babies Jacko saw in the red lands. Bat babies were little black leathery infants, except with the head of vampire bats with chubby cheeks. They were actually quite cute, despite that they'd tried to eat him and stuck their fangs, repeatedly, into his body.

The putti didn't have a bunch of eyes in their wings, like the angel he saw at Oganat's, the African god of war and ambassador to the red lands.

"That was Sam," Aurora said, reading his thoughts. "He's an angel from the tribe, Seraph. They're smaller but proportioned like a man. I warn you, though, don't ever refer to any angel or god as a baby. You will regret it!"

"What kind of angel was the one that dropped me from sky? The one that flew me to Ouranus?"

"They serve the Seraph; they're called ophan. They're smart creatures, and they're great for transport. They usually travel in herds."

Another problem in dining with gods is they could eat forever. After a while, his eyes began to droop.

"Jacko, wake!" said Aurora.

"It's rude to doze at the table," Helius said grumpily.

"I need sleep!" Jacko snapped.

"As I was saying," said Oceanus, sounding impatient, "when souls were discovered, they were simply intelligent little flecks of light, similar to the tadpoles you've seen in the fountain of youth. When we turned them to the Earth and watched them grow to form, they were like interesting pets, but they grew in the image of the gods. Perhaps because of the energy they absorbed from us.

Still, their evolution took much more time then did other species. In the early days, they were primitive, beastly, and went from bad to worse. That is why some agreed to turn over the Earth to the control of the Titans. The other gods had given up, except for a few of us who fought for humanity. That is what my father and I were divided over, and that's why he disowned my brother and imprisoned me. Wake up!" he shouted.

"Sorry," he sighed. "Can I go, now?"

Ignoring him, Oceanus continued, "It was all because of Lucem who saw the potential that man had, if only they were educated, and then given choices. And so he sent his first piece of goodness into the world."

"The first conjurer?" asked Jacko.

"Yes."

"Tell me about him."

"He was a boy born to the early dark ages, long before the Rome Republic. It wasn't a pretty time. War was everywhere, and there were parts of the Earth that were still inhabited by the demons and their half human offspring."

"What happened to the conjurer?"

"The demons fought him all the way to the Garden of Eden. Tired and severely beaten, he hid there for many years while the Earth went to hell as the Celts fought desperately to save humanity."

"He hid while people died?"

"He was not so different from you, Jacko. After all, wasn't it you on the mountain hiding these last few weeks?"

"That was different; there was nothing I could do to help."

"Wrong, Jacko!" yelled Helius. In his outburst, his hair flamed several feet off his head, and his eyes literally blazed. "You were told to seek the orchard, but you didn't listen."

"Helius, sit down," said Aurora.

When he'd rested back into his seat, Jacko asked, "So he was Lucem's first son? What was his name?"

"Like others, he's had many names. Most recently, he's been known as Jove, but he's in rest right now. He's not supposed to come around for this war; in fact, we're not sure that he'll ever come around again."

"But Jove couldn't have been Lucem's son. His father was Saturnus."

"Though Lucem had many, many human sons," said Aurora, "Jove was really his first. They bonded in a way that only a father and son could. When Saturnus found out, Lucem protected Jove as if he were one of his own, training him in battle, and giving him the skills he needed to defeat his crazed father."

"Will he be mad if I visit him?"

"I don't recommend it, Jacko," said Aurora. "Never wake a sleeping god, lest it be the last thing you ever do."

The conversation carried on for some time during which Jacko repeatedly nodded. Finally, he'd had enough and said, "I think I'd better be getting home, now."

"What home? You have no home, boy!" Helius bursted. "You'll stay here until battle time."

"Helius," said Oceanus, "the boy may leave if he wishes."

"Where will he go? What if the demons get him?"

"He'll go to the summit, of course," said Aurora.

"Excuse me, gods," Jacko interrupted. "I've taken care of myself my entire life. I don't need you telling me what to do. However, I do plan to go to the summit, but there's something I must do first."

"What is that?"

"Bury my sister and my father."

"Out of the question!" stood Helius.

"Sit down!" Oceanus also stood. "War hasn't officially begun! The demons know not to touch him yet. He's lost enough. At least allow him to mourn properly. Jacko," Oceanus turned his eerie fluid ocean eyes to him and said "you may go."

A mere second after Oceanus excused him, a traveling whirl of wind swept him up into its funnel.
Warring World

Chapter 2

He was in the funnel a few minutes before it cleared.

The first thing Jacko noticed was how the world had changed. Looking up, his heart pounded at the unnatural charcoal gray hue of the sky.

There were also no clouds. Perhaps the gods warring in space polluted the atmosphere. He couldn't even see the sun; there was no wind and it was terribly cold.

The emotions of the gods were connected to the Earth's atmosphere. Just like in the old stories, when the gods warred, so did the skies; that meant natural disasters. However, never had he ever heard of a sky so dark that it blocked out the sun and moon.

Eyes glued upward to the sky, Jacko put a foot forward and yelped. Painfully, he slammed backward onto his butt. He'd almost walked off a cliff the height of a small mountain.

He laid a moment, examining the topography below, which seemed to have many massive piles of rubble. At first, he thought he was looking at a trash dump. But after a second, he realized the funnel dropped him off on the mountain that towered behind his hometown, Mariton.

Jacko gagged on his breath, sitting further up on his elbows.

Since he'd been gone, the entire shopping district had been leveled. He wondered how many other cities had been destroyed so completely.

He pushed himself up and looked for a way down. Upon seeing nothing, he decided to use his power.

With just a thought, he was instantly there, in front of his father's house.

The neighborhood seemed to be deserted. Most of the houses, up and down the block, were turned to rubble. His was the only one still standing, although just barely.

There were no birds in the sky, power lines were strewn about, and trees were upturned. Not a single car that wasn't buried or crushed in rubbish was there.

He walked up the stone steps and, hesitantly, over the threshold of the unstable looking house. Inside wasn't much different than last time.

Stepping over a pile of broken wood slats, he made his way to where the living room used to be. He braced himself for the sight of his dead sister.

Jacko's jaw dropped when he saw that his sister was no longer there, lying on his father's couch. His breath quickened and his eyelids widened.

After a moment of seething in anger, wondering if the demons came back for her, he told himself to focus. There wasn't any more time to fall apart.

He stood at the foot of the stairs, noticing how more of the planks had collapsed.

Jacko jumped to the very top of the landing, which shook dangerously when he landed. Extending his arms outward, he focused on keeping the landing up and intact.

Wood continued to splint as he walked gently down the hall.

Slowly, he walked into his father's room. The sight of him there, decayed, made him lose focus so that he fell through the ceiling, slamming face first down onto a pile of wood and drywall.

He lay stunned a moment, waiting for the pain to subside, and then he pushed himself up and off the pile.

Back in the living room, the quilt that lined the couch was still there. Jacko pulled it off, shaking all the dirt and rubble away, and then went back into the kitchen where he fell through the ceiling and leapt up into his father's room.

Trying desperately to stay focused, so as not to go through the floor again, he covered his father's body with the quilt and lifted him onto his shoulder.

With a blink of his eyes, he disappeared from the house and reappeared in the city graveyard where the majority of his father's family was buried. Jacko commanded the dirt to clear itself into a pile next to his grandfather's grave. He gently laid the body of his father in and commanded the dirt back into the hole.

He stood there, looking down at the grave for a long time. Even of himself, he couldn't understand why he felt the need to do his father justice. He was cruel and abusive.

He sighed long and loud, and looked up at the sky. No longer could he see beams of antimatter and lightning bolts zooming across the sky. Maybe the gods were taking a break from pre war? Or the sky was so severely polluted.

Once, he thought Mariton was a terribly dreary place. Never had he imagined that it could be worse. He just hoped his uncle was okay.

Wait a minute, he thought. He had one other family member in town, and he was actually good to him; better than his father ever was.

Only problem was Jacko didn't want to use his new powers to get there. He needed to be careful of the exposure risk. But how was he to travel?

And then the answer came to him. Jacko imagined he had a bike again, so he could ride around the neighborhood.

A blue scooter appeared there on the grass. Jacko kicked up the stand and got on.

He rode into what used to be the town center. Along the way, he saw more of the same: leveled houses and buildings with not a sign of a human being anywhere. In the very center of town, the mall looked as if Thor, himself, split it; half was in rubble and the other still stood. An overwhelming smell of grease, sort of like French fries, permeated the air. Looking around, he noticed the Mac Donald's across the street had also been leveled.

Past the town center, he went until he approached the stretch of strawberry fields, and beyond that, spinach. The fields were completely destroyed. Any remaining fruit and vegetables were shriveled up due to lack of sunlight.

He continued along for another mile or so before turning onto a long dirt road.

His uncle had a typical redneck home with lots of cars on the front lawn.

Jacko pulled up to the front door and parked his bike.

"Uncle Bally," he called out.

It was better not to sneak up on him, or else a person might get shot.

He banged on the door of his double wide trailer. When he got no answer, he tried to open the door but it was locked.

"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath. "Uncle Bally!"

Jacko peered through the glass window. All was still inside.

He jogged to the back of the trailer-house and tried the kitchen door. When it wouldn't open either, he decided to break in. He looked down at the knob and told it to unlock, and with a little pop-click, it did.

Jacko pushed open the door and jumped to the side of the wall. When after a minute nothing happened, he craned his neck over and looked around the room.

Bally was notorious for setting trip traps.

The living room was just as he remembered it, with its ugly dirty brown couch and tiny little windows. Inside, the air was dank and smelling of cigarette smoke.

He walked down the hall, calling out.

He almost walked past the room where he normally slept. Spotting the lumpy old bed reminded him that he hadn't slept in days.

Fatigue propelled him forward. He sat at the foot of the bed, took off his shoes and crawled up towards the pillow.

Ancient Nobility
Chapter 3

"Jacko."

Someone was grabbing at his cunnan. "No, let go!" Jacko said.

"Jacko, wake up."

The hand shook him harder.

He fought to open his eyes.

"Uncle Bally!"

"Yeah, boy," he said. "I thought you were dead! Some dream you were having, kept shouting at me to let go!"

"I dreamt someone was trying to steal my cunnan, only I have no clue what a cunnan is."

"Must'a dreamt you was a marksman."

"Huh?"

"Bows and arrows, ya know, a cunnan, a bag."

"Oh." He rubbed his eyes. "So how's everyone?"

"I really can't say, kid. I need to get out and skin these." He wiggled a handful of Squirrels he held by their tails. "Follow me outside and we'll talk."

Groggily, Jacko pulled himself out of the sunken bed.

"Why are you hunting? Isn't it early in the season?"

"It's all about resources now, and it won't be long before winter is here. We'll need enough food to last."

Jacko watched as his uncle pulled back the skin of a squirrel, like pulling off a glove.

"I came by a few weeks ago and found dad and Sissy dead. I couldn't stay because..." Jacko paused, trying to think of a good excuse. He couldn't tell him he'd totally lost his mind and murdered a bunch of demons on a snowy mountain peak, and then found himself dining with immortals in heaven. "Um, there was another storm coming. I've only just got back and their bodies are gone."

"Could be they came around and got 'em. Government came and gathered and burned a bunch of bodies."

He emptied out the guts into some aluminum foil he'd spread out on the table.

"Shouldn't you bury that?"

"I know what I'm doing, Jacko, okay? Been doing this since I was a kid!"

Bally'd always had sort of a short temper.

He propped the gutted squirrel on a clothing line to cool, and then started another.

"The town's been ghostly a while, now. The storms kept coming. I could've gone with them, but I figure if this is the end, then I'm not gonna survive it. Even if the government has a safe place for us, why would they want a stinking old fart like me? So I hunkered down here. After they'd all gone, I went into town and gathered all the leftover supplies and hid them."

"It's gotta be lonely, for you, out here."

"I never was a people person, Jacko, you know that."

"What about the news? Television? Radio?"

"Most everything is working, but the most I can gather is no one knows what's going on. No one knows why the storms keep coming, or why the sky has changed. Scientists say it doesn't make sense; that there isn't anything wrong with the Earth, moon or sun. Global warming just wouldn't act this way, and not this soon or without any indications. They all got theories though."

"What kind of theories?"

"Uh, some predict that something big is happening in the universe – something that we can't see, like a universe or a planet passing, maybe a black hole. Most think this will end and the sky will return to normal. But people are acting like it's the end anyway: looting and shooting, killing. I, myself, have a hiding place in case people come to take what I got.

By the way," he said, looking him directly in the eyes and pointing his gloved finger. "I'd be careful, if I were you. Walk on the right side of the dirt road. There are some tricky bombs and trip wire in the grass. I buried ignitions all over the place. Only I know exactly where each igniter is, so only walk on the right."

This didn't faze Jacko. Everyone in the family knew Uncle Bally was a militia-survivalist type. Probably a good thing, too; if anyone could survive the war that was coming, it was him.

"Have you heard from any family?"

"Yeah, the cell phones and electricity is working, but most phone lines aren't. Electricity was down a bit but it came back on. Not a problem, though, I got five generators and I cleaned out enough propane to last a couple years. Then I went to the thrift store and found an old wood stove and wood heater. So we're set, if you want to stay that is. Just need to worry about food. You can help me with that."

He dropped the last bunch of guts into the foil and wrapped it up. Then he set the last squirrel to cool.

"I get text messages every so often," he said, pulling off his glove. "Aunt Maggie is playing host to Lily and Michael and their four kids, so she's got her hands full, plus I heard Grandpapa was gonna go stay, too."

He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. "I guess I got off lucky. Grandpapa always drove me crazy, and he's getting worse as he gets on in age. And all the screaming kids..."

He took a deep inhale and said, "So anyway, now it's my turn."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's my turn to ask questions, like where ya been? Last I heard, you'd run off."

"I couldn't take it anymore, Uncle Bally. I went to Sissy's. She moved to New Hampshire to live with our real family. Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That John wasn't really my father?"

"Did Sissy tell you that?" he said around a mouthful of smoke.

His eyebrows furrowed up into his forehead. He took a long drag off his cigarette.

"Well, Jacko, it's like this: your mama was too good for John. She helped him even though he was a no good junk head. I think she needed something from him, and I don't think it was money. We knew something was up with that arrangement because it just didn't make sense. John was my brother but he was screw up, and your mother was different. Why deny it? John was a junk head."

He tossed his cigarette on the ground and said, "Well, come on, boy. Let me show you about the property because there've been some changes, and then we'll get some lunch and watch a movie. I ransacked that movie place, downtown. Damn sure cleaned them out!"

Uncle Bally grabbed the foil containing the squirrel guts and led Jacko down into the basement he built to fit the trailer home. That part of the basement looked like any other, with lots of food on the shelf, and dried meats hanging from the ceiling. Then he showed him his underground storage, which Jacko would have never noticed. Since the basement was built into the ground, and Bally'd never gotten around to laying down flooring, the ground appeared to be nothing more than a foot of dirt.

Now, he understood why he'd never taken care of the floor. Over in the furthest corner of the basement, Bally swiped at the dirt a couple times, pushing it to the sides and revealing a door that was made with the same igneous rock that made up most of the ground in that area.

Jacko followed him down a set of aluminum steps into the underground room.

Unlike the basement, the lower room was extremely clean. Uncle Bally had turned it into a tiny bomb shelter complete with basic camping essentials, and jam packed it full of supplies.

"Don't get excited, though, Jacko. If the world should end, none of this will matter. It's just in case, for some reason, we should survive or get attacked by lunatics. There's enough food and water to keep a person for a year or so. I'd only just started building it, thinking I'd retire here since the government was planning to foreclose on my property. So, make no mistake, we got work to do, just in case we survive."

After showing him the storage, he led him upstairs and back outside to a hole he was digging in the ground, some 150 feet away.

"This is gonna be an outhouse. Plumbing works fine, but if it should go out, we're gonna need a place to go. I need you to finish this hole later. It needs to be 6 feet deep, and then we'll fill it in and move it every 6 months or so."

After Bally showed him the main adjustments to his property, he took him back inside the house. He pulled out a pot of stewed venison and rice, which he heated on the stove.

Lunch was just the uplift that Jacko needed. The venison was so tasty but hard to chew.

Bally put in a funny movie during which Jacko fell into hysterics. It felt strange to laugh, and it felt so good that he made himself laugh even harder than he needed. He forced it through his tears, through his fear, and through his sadness.

Why couldn't he just escape his fate? Hide out there with his Uncle?

~~~

The next day, Jacko woke with a minor ache in his lower back. His bed was sunk so low in the middle that his rear touched the box springs.

In the living room, Uncle Bally was bent over, lacing up his boots with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

On the television, a woman was broadcasting the weather. "Clear, grey skies," she said.

"Coffee," he said with clenched teeth, "in the kitchen. Grab yourself a piece of fruit because we gotta go."

Jacko wandered into the kitchen where a piece of linoleum, sticking up, nailed him in the ball of his foot.

Despite the dubious look of the old yellow coffee pot, which Jacko was sure his Uncle Bally probably never cleaned, he poured himself a cup and grabbed a banana.

Back in the living room, the anchor lady was talking about what an unusual week it had been.

"... Rain has stopped in most parts of the country, but the Earth, itself, will not rest..." then there were shots to places where people were trying to get about, but were having a hard time walking on the ever-trembling ground. "In other parts of the country, there is little sunlight, and though we're pressing the government for answers, there is still no explanation as to why the skies remain unchanged, or where the clouds have gone. Activists blame man's global warming, saying that if they'd reduced chemicals in the atmosphere sooner, than this wouldn't have happen."

His uncle turned off the television. "I don't understand why they keep putting out that global warming crap! Something's happening, alright, and it ain't got nothing to do with us."

"What do you suppose, then?" he asked around a mouthful of fruit.

"It's God! 'And the angel took the censer, filled it with fire from the altar, and threw it to the earth. And there were noises, thunderings, lightnings, and an earthquake. So the seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first angel sounded: And hail and fire followed, mingled with blood, and they were thrown to the earth. And a third of the trees were burned up, and all the green grass was burned up,' revelations."

Whoa, thought Jacko.

He was so off, yet so close.

"Put on your shoes; let's go."

"Why?"

"I started setting up a miniature green house down in the shelter. We need to gather seeds to try and grow down there; although I'm no green thumb. More like black touch of death, but we'll try anyway. I got this book though." He walked over to the mantle. "Maybe you can look it over later. Plants require gentle kind of caring, which I'm unable to provide. But first, we're going hunting. Some pigs have been burrowing out by the river."

"Hunting's not my thing."

"What do you mean, it's not your 'thing?' What do you think we ate last night? What are you gonna eat when all the meat, in the grocery stores, spoils? Hunting is the ancient nobility. Now, come on, boy. You're gonna stay here, you gotta contribute."

He stubbed out his cigarette, grabbed a gun and a large net that lay on the floor and walked out.

Thirty minutes later, they were following a trail that seemed to be leading them to the river. He talked the whole way, telling Jacko the difference between mountain lion and dog tracks, deer and reindeer, and how to track boars or capture squirrels.

"You see them holes right there. Pigs digging up some tubers, I bet. They may even rest near here. We're gonna track 'em down that way --" he pointed to some faint tracks and chewed shrub. "Now if we can catch us some, great. Likely, they'll run back here. Once we've chased them back around here, you'll use this, here, net to catch one. I'd give you a gun, but I don't trust you. I'll shoot one and you'll net one, and we'll have enough meat to last six months."

Jacko was intrigued by his uncle's fervor. He wondered if that was the way the demons looked at him: like a pig running across country.

After walking through the forest, another twenty minutes or so, Jacko started to wish he was anywhere but there. The cold touched, easily, through his light parka and sweater. He longed for another hot cup of coffee that was still in the pot back at the house.

Some time passed when his uncle suddenly put out his arm like a bar to his chest. Shhh, he mimicked with his finger to his lips.

Gently, he raised the binoculars that hung around his neck to his eyes, and then motioned to Jacko to stay still.

He watch as Uncle Bally walked carefully to a small space between two trees whose limbs hung down, obscuring Jacko's vision so he couldn't quite see what Bally was looking at.

He put the gun up to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. Then there was the sound of many feet, running.

"See that, Jacko! That's how they communicate: gruntin' and squealin'! Let's go!"

He walked, fast, past Jacko.

"These pigs have a real routine! Now I just shot the tree to scare them, but I know where they're going. If we play our cards right, we could catch two of them."

As quiet as they could, they back tracked, only veering off the trail just slightly. It didn't take long for them to find several of them standing by a small stream of the river, drinking and lying about.

"Now, how we're gonna do this is you're gonna stand here, okay?" Uncle Bally whispered, mimicking positions with his hands. "I'm gonna go around and shoot one. Now they'll get scared and, I'm bettin', their gonna come right through here, right at you, because up that way is a dead end cliff. Pigs remember things like that. Also, don't underestimate their strength. They're shaped differently, but that doesn't mean they aren't heavy, fast or strong. Don't break your neck, just try to catch one, and we'll be set for quite a while."

Jacko looked at the pigs that barely reached past his knees and thought they couldn't be that hard to catch.

Poised, net at the ready, he waited for Bally to come around.

It happened quicker than Jacko expected.

Uncle Bally stood out along the side of the clearing. The pigs had yet to notice. He took aim and shot the largest one. Jacko was relieved, but he didn't have long to linger on that feeling because the four other pigs came charging toward the only clear spot, which was right where he stood.

They ran like miniature charging bulls. He didn't know they could be so agile!

Jacko's heart pounded.

The first two approached.

He swung the net, but the pigs ran around and between his legs while the other two ran off the trail and into the bush.

"Well, don't just stand there, boy! Get one!"

He turned and ran. It took every ounce of strength to catch up to the fast little blighters. His net was raised skyward.

Suddenly, the two pigs that went into the bush appeared, nearly knocking Jacko over. He didn't hesitate. He flung the net at once, holding the pole as hard as he could.

It landed over the smallest one, entirely, but instead of stopping, it yanked on the net with such force that Jacko slammed flat onto his front, and then it dragged him for a couple of yards before he was able to dig his feet into the ground and heel himself up.

The pig, which didn't stop trying to escape, further entangled himself in the net until it was lying on its side.

His uncle walked up behind, "We-e-ell, looks like the pig took you on a trip!"

He laughed hysterically at his clever pun.

Jacko looked down his muddy front.

"Boy, you need a bath," he laughed jovially. "Good job."

"He's such a little guy, though. Maybe we should let him go."

Looking over at the pig, he concurred. "Yeah, you may be right." He tugged the cord and shook the net, and the pig ran off, honking.

"Well, come on, boy. I'm gonna show you a thing or two about cleaning a kill."

They walked over to the water where the dead pig lay. He heaved it onto his shoulder, and then Jacko followed him back to the house.

When he'd set the pig on his cutting table, he said, "First thing you need to remember is to give thanks to the lord. You just killed a living thing; it gave up its life for you. Second, you never cut any of the organs if you don't want disease and pea and poo runnin' all over your food. Water is the universal solvent but it doesn't work on all bacteria and virus'."

He, then, took his foot long machete-like knife and made a cut from the bottom up, baring all the animal's organs.

"Next, you cut here and here. Normally you can skin an animal's hide real easy, but this one we're gonna save most of. Don't know if you've ever had pigskin, but it sure is good: too good to waste. We're gonna keep the head, which has ample meat on it. In other countries, it would be wasteful to throw it away. Some like to keep the eyes and eat those too, but I don't care for them."

"Why are you saving the guts again?" he asked, looking at the mound he'd placed in foil.

"To lure other animals; for fishing and to set traps," he replied incredulously, rolling his eyes. "Man, you city kids get things too easy, I tell you what. It makes you dumb is what it does."

He threw the newly gutted body of the pig over his shoulder, and disappeared into the house.

The rest of the day, Jacko spent reading about planting while Bally worked on his irrigation system down in the green house.

Later, they sat down in the living room and watched the news over dinner. For the most part, the world was unchanged, except for sunlight that broke out at the North Pole for a few hours.

The next morning, Uncle Bally took Jacko out into the forest to track a deer. Earlier, he'd seen some half eaten leaves and scat lying about. This time, he wanted Jacko to lead the way and kill one.

"See, you're gonna find the most activity if you can get up and look around at sunrise or before. You know, that's when animals get going. Somehow, it's like they know they're less likely to meet people, which is exactly why a hunter gets up earlier. Besides, some animals rest when it's hottest, which is afternoon and you don't want to be out here at that time, neither.

Only problem is sometimes tracks and scat aren't reliable. Dew might make scat look moist, or other predators might have tracked the animal first. Despite all the external factors, when you see activity, you see the patterns; then you know where to hunt." Bally, slapped him on shoulder, "See, look over there," he pointed.

"Don't you think you've got enough meat for now?"

"That's a really good question, kid. We've been really lucky in catching lots of meat because no one else is around, right now. Normally, it's just good ethics not to over fish or over hunt, but with the atmosphere like this, it won't be long before they start eating each other, and it won't be long before the animals that don't convert to meat eating, will die. I especially mean the deer and cows, and maybe even some squirrels. Better we get them before that happens. That way we have that much extra supply, and that much extra time to plan for future resources."

He motioned that Jacko should take the lead, following the trail; telling Bally where he thought they should go.

By lunch, Jacko had his own deer to skin. As he worked on it, he wondered if the demons would skin him, if they got their their blackened claws on him.

No, he said to himself, they'd likely just take his head and put it on a totem, like an Amazonian.

All nobility and wars aside, Jacko found that he liked being an outdoors man. The simple nature of working with his hands was instantly gratifying. Everyday, he had a job to do, and when he'd accomplished his goals, his conscience was rewarded with just the simple knowledge that he was capable.

Unlike life at school or with his father in which problems always persisted, and at the end of the days, he'd lie in bed, worrying, out there, when the day was done so were his worries. As such, he never slept so peacefully, not ever as long as he could remember.

Even mealtimes were different. Food sustained his soul as well as his body. It made him wonder if the life he lived, at the moment, was the way it was supposed to be for mankind.

As usual, they were up at the crack of dawn the next day.

Jacko sat on the couch eating an apple while Bally stocked up an igloo with ice and animal guts. He went into the kitchen where he filled two thermoses with coffee.

He handed one to Jacko and said, "Get them fishing poles, boy. I'll carry the chest and a rifle."

Twenty minutes later, they trekked up the hill to the lake. Fog from the mountain tried to weigh them down, chilling them to the bone, and making it appear as if it were eleven 'o' clock at night, instead of six in the morning.

When the ground leveled off, they walked on for another ten miles before they reached the lake. Tethered to the dock were a couple boats.

His uncle got in the largest one and said, "Hand me the stuff and get in carefully."

Jacko did as he said, and then clambered into the shaking boat.

Looking down into the water was quite eerie. It mirrored the sky, only it looked nearly black. Fog hugged the surface, making it hard to see around them. He just hoped the boat didn't accidentally tip. Something about the idea of falling in and not being able to see the surface of the water as he swam up was frightening.

Uncle Bally immediately got to work, showing Jacko how to line and bait the hooks.

Showing Jacko how to bait was the most exciting part of fishing. After that, they sat, motionless and speechless, for the next couple of hours. Finally, the coffee half way finished, and the sky having lightened a bit, Bally said, "Let's try another spot"

They reeled in their lines and then Bally paddled the boat to other side of the lake.

Several hours passed in stone cold, quiet. Several times, Bally smacked or shook him. "Hey, you're gonna scare all the fish away with snoring."

Jacko slept a couple hours with his chin on his chest. Then about noon, the line tugged. Bally reached over him and grabbed the pole from his hand.

Jacko jumped. "Sorry, but you were sleeping. You almost lost the pole."

He rotated the lever a few dozen times, and pulled up a large perch.

"Not bad. The perch might be headed in this direction." He handed the pole back to him. "Try to stay awake, now."

Uncle Bally was right. Over the next couple of hours, they managed to fish a dozen perch out. Then just as they were about to call it a day, they wrangled out a twelve pound catfish.

Things went on like this for a few weeks. Jacko thoroughly enjoyed his time. Time and time again, he did think about his family who were stuck on the summit of the gods, and that they might want to go home, but he just didn't know what to do. That was the thing about the gods. They kept telling him he needed to end the war but never told him how. Either way, they were safe on the summit. Until Jacko found out what his part was to be, he felt better knowing that his family was tucked out of harm's way.

But a few weeks later, as Jacko and Uncle Bally sat watching the news and eating their slow cooked squirrels and rice, he got worried. The news lady talked about the increase of storm patterns, and heaps of sulfur rains. As he sat there, fork frozen mid air, he realized that, sooner rather than later, he was gonna have to leave the comfort of his uncle's fortress.

It pained him to think about leaving, for he'd become fond of even the dank cigarette smoke that hung in the air, the soggy, back breaking but warmth of his bed; the moldy but hot heat from the generator. It was comfort he'd never known. He was snuggled in his own little world.

A blanket of guilt fell over him as the anchor spoke of a new wave of deaths in northern Europe. Towards the circle poles, people witnessed a strange phenomenon that Jacko knew too well about: fiery snow the size of baseballs, pummeling the ground and buildings, catching fire to all they touched, and burning out in the snow, leaving blackened ashes behind. Scientists suggested it was bits of asteroid, raining down from space.

Jacko knew better; it was the gods warring and smiting with their rods, spears and tridents. They were just as powerful as the elements, as they fired lightning bolts, laser beams and antimatter, obliterating whatever they came into contact with.

He sighed.
Can't Hide Forever
Chapter 4

The next morning, Bally proposed they'd get more work done if they separated.

Jacko didn't mind because he, sometimes, got tired of working with him. He could talk nonstop for hours.

By noon, he'd managed to track another deer.

After a bit of lunch and a cup of coffee, he put on the thick boots his uncle lent him, as his shoes were no good when hiking the more strenuous trails. He looked for wild edible plants he could dig up and take back to his uncle's green house.

For miles, he went into a particularly thick part of the forest when, up in the tree, he saw several squirrels running with nuts in their mouths.

He was thinking he should have brought his rifle. Then something fast and dark whizzed past both sides of his head.

Jacko spun around thinking they couldn't have been wasps or June bugs; they were too fast. When he didn't see anything, he turned his attention back to the trail.

Onward, he went until he spotted a weakened wild patch of strawberries. Puny and nearly dead in the nasty cold, hard soil, its shriveled fruit hung low to the ground.

As he stooped to carefully examine the roots, something whizzed past both sides of his head again. The air whooshed through his hair and ears, which he swatted with both hands.

He stood up.

"Show yourselves, now!"

He walked in the direction the black things seemed to fly. It didn't take long to spot them. There, with wings beating fast, keeping them suspended in the air, were two bat babies.

They were so dark that, if not for the whites of their eyes, he wouldn't have been able to see their large irises, as black as their shiny skin, staring down at him. And if not for the green of the leaves against the charcoal gray sky, their shapes would have been impossible to distinguish.

Little gleaming fangs poked out of their thin lipped mouths.

Normally, the bat babies lived in the red lands.

"What are you doing here?"

They didn't answer.

Although they were relatively harmless, they were still on the sides of his enemies. He couldn't let them go and risk their telling others his location.

With that thought, he pulled his backpack off and said, "Get in." When they wouldn't, he bound them with his magic and stuffed them inside.

Then he went back to the patch and, with the mini shovel, got to digging up the strawberry plant. When he'd carefully collected all the roots, he pulled out a plastic bag, carefully put the plant in, and filled it with the dirt. Then he poured in some water and left the forest.

When he got back to the house, it was to find that his uncle was, thankfully, still out. He wasn't ready to tell his uncle everything. Besides, he wouldn't believe him anyway.

He stowed away to his room, where he pulled the two bat babies out of his bag and placed them on the closet floor.

"Stay quiet," he said, and then closed the door.

Overnight, the bat babies were rather well behaved. In the morning, Jacko gave them pork sandwiches. They threw the bread to the floor, ate the meat and drank down the cups of water.

"Why are you here?"

They tried to respond but Jacko just didn't understand the pigeon vibrato they uttered. He didn't speak demon, and they didn't speak English.

"Stay."

He closed the door and went about his day.

Out in the forest, he immediately spotted a tree with a broken branch. Judging by the color of the exposed wood, it was damaged recently. Below the branch, the dirt was recently trampled.

"Whoa," he said to himself, kneeling to get a closer look.

From end to end, the track was two feet width of tossed dirt.

He couldn't quite make out the shape of the foot print, but it measured, maybe, six inches, he guessed. It kind of reminded him of a dog but way bigger.

His heart pounded and he grinned, thinking, Bally is going to be so proud of me.

He picked up his pace. Obviously, whatever the animal was, it was huge. If he could conquer it, maybe it was a sign that he was ready to face his demons.

Right now, in the red lands, a demon that was picked to battle Jacko was taking a sojourn, too. It was their custom that they should go into the forest and live by the land, proving their battle worthiness. The coincidence that he should be with Uncle Bally, doing similar things, didn't escape him. In fact, it gave him hope that maybe, despite his fear, he was battle worthy, too.

The sky lightened by several shades. He looked at his watch. An hour passed and he still hadn't found the animal.

He stopped a moment and took a sip of water.

A low groaning sound came from beyond a tree several yards to his right.

Jacko put the lid back on his water, stuffed it in his bag, and got his rifle to the ready.

He lightly walked to where the sound came from. Standing close to the tree, obscuring his body from full view, he looked through tall grass. Less than a hundred feet away, the biggest bear he'd ever seen was ripping out the belly of a pig.

Although he couldn't see its face, the size and shape of its head and body was way too big for a brown or black bear. As this thought occurred to him, sweat broke out all over his face and neck. He should have known the moment he saw the size of the tracks.

Stepping backward slowly, his eyes never leaving the bear, he accidentally tripped on a large fallen branch. He accidentally squeezed the trigger; it shot up in the air.

Quickly, he jumped to his feet.

He locked eyes with the bear.

It roared and stood on its feet, and then charged him.

Jacko turned to run again, but in panic, tripped on the same log, slamming face first into the dirt.

He should have stayed on the ground and played dead, like Uncle Bally told him, but fear took over. He got on foot to run but wasn't fast enough.

The grizzly bear leapt at him.

Jacko flung his arms up to his face.

A few seconds passed, but nothing happened.

He opened his eyes and saw the bear sitting by the tree with its tongue hanging out, looking at him, curiously.

Looking around, he realized that things seemed brighter than usual. Instead of the grey atmosphere, it was quite yellowish.

Jacko looked up at the sky and, seeing that it was blue, gasped.

Did he jump worlds again?

Jumping worlds in his sleep was originally how he got caught up in this god versus demons business. While asleep, he accidentally astral projected into the red lands.

A woman was humming. He also heard the sound of running water coming from the clearing where the bear was eating a kill, a moment ago.

The bear roared lightly, and nodded his head in the direction the sounds came from.

Jacko got the hint but was still wary.

Slowly, he walked just past the tree, eyes still watching the bear. When he was sure it wouldn't attack, he chanced glancing ahead.

There was a woman sitting in the grass, watching a silvery river run.

"Hello?" he half said half asked. "Can you tell me where I am?"

The woman turned around. Jacko instantly recognized her face. She had long white blonde hair and the darkest brown eyes to contrast, like his sister, Sissy.

"Mother?"

She smiled.

"Is this real?"

"After everything, do you even have to ask that?"

His cheeks hitched back in a wide smile. He almost ran to hug her. But then he got scared as a realization sunk in: his mother had died and gone into the fountain of youth, where all souls return after death. Only the most powerful, like Lucem and a very few select humans, could go into the fountain without losing their mortal or immortal life. For most men, be he god, demon, angel, or human, once he got in the fountain, he could never go back to his physical body, except for in rebirth.

"Are we in the fountain?"

"Yes! Very good! I see you did pay attention to my stories."

A look of panic must have shown on his face, for she said, "Don't worry, you're not dead."

"Then, how am I here?"

"I asked a friend for a favor. She brought you here."

He sighed and sat next to her.

"She must be a powerful friend. You swear I'm not dead?"

"You'll return to your body when we're done."

"With what?"

"I need to talk to you, and I have to do it now because I don't have much more time left, here, in the fountain."

"Where are you going?"

"My time to be reborn is nearing."

"How do you know when that's about to happen?"

"It's just a feeling one gets. Sort of like when people know their time is coming to end, well, sometimes people can tell when their time is about to begin."

"Do you have to go?"

"No, but I want to."

"Come back to Earth as yourself, or retire in heaven! Why do you have to be reborn? You won't remember me. Essentially, you'll be leaving your children behind."

"I can't, Jacko. The thing is I want to leave this life behind. I want to be reborn into a normal family, and live a normal life. Besides," she sighed, "when the martyrs break their circles of life, then humanity is no longer saved."

Jacko hadn't a clue of what she meant. All he knew was that he was angry. How could she be so selfish?

"So why did you call me?" he asked, trying to keep his feelings from sounding in his voice.

"To give you something."

She reached into the pocket of her white linen smock and pulled out a handful of figs.

"Food?" he asked sarcastically.

"They're very special. I don't want to tell you how for fear that you'll use them at the wrong time. There aren't very many of these left in the world, so it's important you keep them as long as possible."

He considered her a moment. It sounded strange but he knew not to question the gods, so he put them in his cargo pocket.

They sat in silence a few more moments.

"Why did you leave me behind, when you left home?"

"When I met John, the man you thought was your father, I was desperate. We needed a safe place and a new legal identity, and we needed it immediately. I didn't know anyone else who could help me. The quickest way to get those things, I figured, was to get married, so I enchanted him. The thing with enchantments is they don't last. Year by year, the spell wore off until he woke, one morning, and couldn't remember who I was. You were too young to remember, but he threw me and Sissy out. I didn't leave."

"Why did he allow me to stay?"

"Because I paid him. I could've re enchanted him, but I'd already taken five years of his life. He may have been a bad man, but I had no right taking his will."

"And your suicide?"

"I don't know," she said. "I swear, to you, that I didn't kill myself. Someone poisoned my tea; they mixed the hemlock root into my canister. I remember pain, and then I was here."

He watched the water a moment, thinking about her words.

"Am I gonna die in this battle?"

"Perhaps; it has happened before."

"What do you mean by that?"

But he didn't get his answer because the scene faded.

His eyes opened once more. He was lying facedown, breathing in the dirt.

He sat up, coughed and spat, and rubbed the granules off his face.

The bear had gone.

"I just want things to go back to the way they were," he said aloud, hoping someone would grant his wish.

Of course, nothing happened.

He made his way back down the trail and through the forest.

At the house, he found his Uncle Bally standing in the kitchen and eating a sandwich.

"Why don't we take the rest of the day off, son," he said around a mouthful. "I'd like to go to the mall before it completely levels. Maybe we can get you some clothes. Winter is coming, after all."

Right before he walked out of the room, he said, "Tonight, I want you to set traps all around. I think we got mice."

Jacko huffed and rolled his eyes. Then he grabbed a couple slices of pork and two cups of water. From down the hall, he heard grunting noises coming from his room.

He walked in and closed the door.

The bats were making a ton of bumping noises and talking loudly.

He opened the closet door to find them playing with the spare chess set that was in the closet.

Jacko set down the food and water.

"Be quiet! I don't want Uncle Bally to think we have rats!"

Without saying anything, they pounced on the food and each grabbed a cup of water, and continued playing as if he wasn't even there.

The bat babies had really short arms and legs; too short to move the pieces. So they took turns flying the chess pieces to their places on the board, and then returning to their spot on the floor, making thump noises each time they landed.

Jacko looked around for something they could use as a mat to soften their landing. He grabbed the large blanket on the shelf of the closet.

"Hey, move! I want to put this under you so my Uncle doesn't hear you."

They just kept playing.

As he watched their game a moment, he started to take in the subtle differences in their appearance. This was hard to see before because he couldn't get past their shiny leathery look. However, the one playing the black chess pieces was way chubbier than the one playing the white. In fact, the one playing the black had an air about him that made him seem more like a follower type, while the one playing the white was more of a leader.

"Okay, so this what I'm going to call you: Larry," he said pointing to the skinnier bat, "and Joe," he pointed to the chubbier one.

But they still weren't paying attention.

Joe took Larry's rook with his pawn, making him angry. Now, he was peeling bits of pig fat, Larry hurled at him, off his face.

"Hey!" he said more forcefully. "Joe," he poked him in the gut. "Larry," he poked the thinner one, too.

"Joe, Larry, Larry, Joe, Joe, Larry, Larry Joe," they chanted together.

"Jacko!" came his uncle's voice through the door.

They all got silent.

"Coming!"

"You be good, and I'll let you out for exercise later. If I come back and you're gone, I'll find you and it won't be good. Put this blanket under you. I know you understand me, so just do it."

He closed the door, and then ran down the hall.

Skill of the Past
Chapter 5

Jacko hadn't left Uncle Bally's since after he'd dined with the gods. There, he was safe from the dangers of war, and there, he was in control of his life. Nothing bad could happen in the fortress of his uncle's, but as they left his property, fear perspired out of him.

He drove them into town in his old blue pickup. Along the way, he saw that not a thing had changed, except for the plant life. Every tree they past appeared shriveled and had lost nearly all its leaves. The fields of strawberries and spinach turned to a smelly slime that coated the soil. Structures that still stood had a sad and ghostly look about them.

The planet was dying, and he needed to war with the gods to stop it. As if being on the ledge of a burning building, he could leap into the hands of his pitchforked enemies, or he could return to his dying asylum; either way, it felt like he was destined to go down.

They turned into the parking lot of the mall. As before, half of it lay in a huge pile. Dangling from the second floor was part of an escalator that looked as though it would smash down with the slightest quake.

Suddenly, Jacko didn't feel so good about going in. He didn't want either of them getting hurt.

Uncle Bally didn't seem fazed at all. He continued through the parking lot to the north end where Macy's was.

"You don't think really think we should go in there, do you?"

"I admit it's not safe, but we need things," he said, parking up on the sidewalk, in front of the glass doors. "We'll just be real quick about it."

He stepped out of the truck, walked up and held open the glass door for Jacko.

LEDs in the floor gave off faint light, but the store was still very dark. Stuff littered the floor and many perfumes heavily fragranced the air. For a brief moment, Jacko thought he smelled the scent of dryer sheets, like in a laundry mat, and bacon and toast.

"Uncle Bally," he whispered, "what if someone's living here?"

He pulled his hand gun and a small flashlight from his hip and said, "Stay close."

They looked left and right, down the aisle that led in a circle around the store.

A few steps in and down the right path, a cash register appeared on the left side.

"Grab a couple bags and start filling them. I'll keep watch."

Jacko did as he said. He ducked behind the register and pulled a package of the largest bags, shook one out, and then they proceeded, slowly.

They passed a section of purses and bags, followed by women's shoes. When they reached the men's section, they took a moment for Jacko to look through. Uncle Bally's shoes were too big.

A few minutes later, Jacko came out of the back with a pair of boots, and then they moved along until they got to the men's clothing section. He'd also been wearing Uncle Bally's clothes since he got there; it was a relief to get some jeans that didn't have to be tied up with rope.

By the time they reached the bath section, Uncle Bally had put away his hand gun and was helping Jacko clear out as many towels and cloths as they could.

He almost leapt for joy at the sight of the bed section. Together, they heaved a queen sized mattress and box springs out and into the back of the truck.

In the camping section, Jacko gathered as many sleeping bags as he could when, from behind, he heard a loud crunch-like noise.

Swiftly, he turned.

His uncle was lying on the ground. Standing before him, with a .22 rifle, was a dark haired man with an overgrown beard.

"What did you do that for? We just need some supplies and we'll go."

"This is our mall," said the vagrant. "You'll go now, or else."

He'd never been much of a fighter, but since he'd been to the fig orchard and had his blessing, he had senses of what to do in dangerous situations. Now that he understood about the fountain of youth, it made sense that he could've been drawing on lessons learned in a past life. So when something moved behind him, rather than feel fear as most would, he felt relief.

He turned his head just slightly. Standing behind him was a woman with unkempt hair. She had a baseball bat in her hand.

Fast, Jacko yanked the bat away, and then swung the handle around, at the barrel of the gun. Right as the handle hit it, he leapt right.

Startled by his actions, the man, accidentally, fired the weapon. The bullet missed Jacko's side by inches.

Without hesitation, he swung the bat, whacking the man on his temple. He fell to the ground. Jacko picked up the gun and aimed it at him.

Behind him came a moaning sound.

"Uncle Bally, are you okay?" he asked, without turning his eyes away from the fallen man.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

While holding his head, the man rolled into a sitting position. His eyes went from squinted with pain to wide and quivering.

"You made me kill her!" he shouted.

Foolishly, Jacko turned his head to see the woman. As he did this, the man charged him.

He pulled the trigger, shooting the man in the heart.

The man's eyes bugged out as the force of the bullet pushed his midriff back, and then he dropped to the ground.

For a moment, Jacko was motionless, watching the expression that lingered on the dead man's face.

Grabbing onto the shelf, Bally pulled himself up.

"It's okay, Jacko."

"It's not okay."

"You did what you had to. This is the sort of thing that happens when law doesn't exist."

"I didn't want to hurt anyone. I was just scared, and I reacted."

He pulled a tee shirt from the nearby rack and pressed it to the back of his head, which was bleeding copiously.

"Look, I know you feel bad but we gotta go. There might be more than just these two. Can you pull it together, long enough for us to get out of here?"

Uncle Bally swayed as he struggled to stay upright.

Jacko put his arm under his shoulder and heaved him forward.

Uncle Bally was right. The moment they stepped outside, it was to see a handful of men pilfering the old pickup.

Two, who had rifles, pointed them immediately.

Uncle Bally tried to pull his hand gun, but he'd lost his coordination. His arm merely flopped around and he almost fell.

Carefully, he set him on the ground. "Don't worry, I got this," he whispered. "I don't want you, further, injuring yourself."

One of the men, long and tired looking, walked around to face him and said, "Is this your truck?"

"What do you think?"

"Better get walking if you don't wanna get dead," the guy said, pointing to the road. "We're taking everything."

Jacko punched him throat, leaned into him and yanked the back of his opposite arm, forcing him to turn into a chokehold.

"You got two minutes to put everything back, and then get out of here."

"If you don't want your friend to get shot," said a man with bloodshot eyes, "you'll let him go, now!"

Jacko, instantly, tightened his hold on the man's neck. A sound like a belching drain issued from his throat. The look on the man's face must have been distorted as he struggled for breath, as suddenly, one of them said, "Alright, alright, we'll put the stuff back. Just loosen your grip, there. Don't hurt our buddy."

Uncle Bally pushed himself off the ground with gun in hand.

When they'd put everything back, they carefully walked to their sides of the truck.

"Get inside, Jacko. I got my gun on 'em," he said, once he'd settled into the driver's seat and closed his door.

Jacko opened the passenger door and pushed his hostage away from him. Just as he was about to get inside the truck, they fired several shots at them.

His nerves already thoroughly frayed, he reacted, once more, without real intention.

He raised his hand and the bullets reversed direction.

At that moment, the Earth rumbled and quaked. Blinding light shined down from the sky, making him duck and cover. Finally, there was a deafening sound of an explosion.

After a few moments, as the Earth continued quaking, Jacko dared to look up. Every cloud in the sky had been illuminated, making them look like bright white celestial seas. For a moment, it got really hot.

A voice from the clouds that vibrated to the core of his being said, "It has begun!"

And then the light withdrew, leaving them, once again, in the cool semi darkness of the charcoal gray sky.

"Come on, get in!" shouted Bally.

But just as he pulled the lever on the truck door, he saw that one of the men lay on the hood of their truck, bleeding to death. All the other men had fallen as well.

Then it made sense: what had begun was the war. His sojourn was over because he'd proven himself battle worthy.

"Jacko, what are you doing?"

As they made their way home, he watched the sky. Colorful beams of light flew across the atmosphere, and then exploded into bits of light that trickled out.

Uncle Bally was completely oblivious.

"How's your head?"

"Throbs but I'll be alright."

They rode up the right side of the driveway. Jacko held him all the way to the door, and then fished the keys from Uncle Bally's denim pocket.

He pushed the door inward, and it banged against the wall. Then he tried to shoulder him into the living room, but he wouldn't move.

"What's wrong?"

Rage distorted his face.

Jacko turned his head and saw what infuriated him.

The couch had been destroyed. Foam shredding blanketed the entire floor, and polluted the air with particles, giving the room a hazy atmosphere.

Uncle Bally pulled the gun from his hip again.

Gently, they crossed the threshold. Looking left and right, and seeing no one, they proceeded into the kitchen.

Jacko should have known.

The contents of pot roast, from the prior evening, lay on the floor; the meat gone, and the potatoes smeared all over. An entire loaf of bread was ripped to shreds and tossed about.

There, wings beating wildly, and hurling pieces of frozen fish at each other were the two bat babies.

Joe was covered in mustard, and Larry was glistening wet with some substance that dripped onto the floor.

Uncle Bally shrieked and took aim with his gun.

"No!" shouted Jacko, pushing his arm down. "It's okay!"

He set Uncle Bally in the chair. Then he looked at the bats who stared, unfazed, back at him.

"You, two, are in BIG trouble!"

Jacko knew they understood him because their wings slowed their beats, making them bounce further up and down in the air.

"Now, you got ten minutes to get this mess cleaned up, or I'll cage you!"

They turned to each other and spoke. Larry pointed his finger, and Joe went and got the broom and started sweeping it with his little arms.

"Don't you guys have magic to clean this mess up with?"

They didn't answer.

Larry went back to the refrigerator and pulled out the pound of freshly sliced chicken meat.

"Get out of there, Larry! You help him clean, now, or I swear your punishment will be worse!"

Larry dropped the bag and got the rag that was in the sink. He set to wiping the floor after Joe's broom strokes.

"I'm gonna take my uncle to rest. When I get back, if you guys are messing around at all, I'll bind you so that you can't even blink."

He bent over and heaved Uncle Bally out of the chair. They made their way to his bedroom where he laid down.

"What were those things?"

"They're," he paused, wondering how much he should tell him. "Uh, they're my pets. They're harmless."

"Enough with the bull, now out with the truth."

His uncle was a bit redneck, but he could always tell when someone was lying. Jacko figured he might as well test a bit of the truth on him, and see how he handled it.

"You won't believe me, but here it goes," he sighed. "They're demons but not in the bad biblical sense. They're just another species, kind of like dogs or cats, except they have our level of intelligence. And they're pretty much harmless."

Although Uncle Bally said nothing, Jacko saw disbelief in his eyes.

"Well, I'd better go check on them. They may be harmless, but as you've seen, they can be mischievous. Can I get you anything?"

"Did you bring them here?"

Such a plain question surprised him.

"You believe me, then?"

He stared, silently.

"I brought them because they were hungry."

Uncle Bally's lip curled and his eyebrows furrowed down.

"Okay, okay," he said, putting up his hand in a please stop motion. He could tell his uncle was about to snap. "I brought them because I didn't want them telling others that I'm here."

"Who's after you?"

Jacko merely stood there.

"Are you gonna answer my question, or am I gonna have to shoot it out of you?"

He just didn't know how to tell him everything. Even more importantly, he didn't want his uncle to look at him differently. He was a judgmental type.

Uncle Bally must have seen the wheels turning in his head, because he sighed and asked, "It's not drugs or money they're after, is it?"

"No, I swear that's not it. Look, if I tell you, you won't believe me. You'll think I'm crazy or evil."

"Alright, so what do we do?"

"There's nothing you can do. It's all on me. I'll know what to do when the time is right; that's what they said."

"Who said?" he asked strongly.

"Some friends."

"Friends?"

"Yes."

Uncle Bally looked like he wanted to pressure him for details but thought better of it. Then he asked, "Why is 'it', as you say, on you?"

"I can't tell you."

"How am I supposed to help you, if you won't explain?"

"I gave you a bit of truth just now. I don't want to tell you anymore. Not just yet, but I'll give this much: there are other species out there, like those in the kitchen. They're bigger, meaner, and more dangerous than you can imagine."

He waited for Uncle Bally to reply, but he only looked at him a moment, and then said, "Well, Jacko, I need some rest. My head's killing me. Shut the door on your way out."

He rolled over onto his side.

Back in the kitchen, Joe and Larry were levitating around the pile of food they'd swept into the center of the floor, eating and chatting.

"Why do you keep tossing the potatoes? They're quite good. Try them."

Larry pigeon talked in a demanding manner to Joe. He, then, picked up a quarter size piece of a potato and stuck his fang in it, then pulled out. The soft whiteness crumbled slightly in his hand, and then he licked it with his tongue. Deciding to go for it, he plopped the whole piece in his mouth and chewed. As he did this, his pointed ear tips poked up and down, repeatedly. He plunged both hands in and started shoving as much into his mouth as he possibly could; Larry followed suit.

Jacko walked across the kitchen and peered through the window, up at the sky. Action was still heavy up there. The war had, indeed, begun.
And the Gods Came Down
Chapter 6

After Larry and Joe finished their mountain of food, he let them outside for a bit of exercise. They, too, noticed the sky, and were struck by it for a moment before resuming their childlike behavior of flying about, play fighting and taunting each other.

Uncle Bally stayed in his room for the rest of the day, though he got up to use the bathroom, once. Jacko wondered if he should have used his power to heal him, but then thought better of it. No doubt, he'd call Jacko evil and go on about witchcraft.

He spent the rest of the afternoon unloading the truck.

When he went to move the old mattress out of his room, he saw that someone had been there.

Lying on the crusty old blanket was a gold arch and light tan leather bag with gold arrows. They looked exactly like the ones he'd dreamt about weeks ago. Beside it lay a gold belt with a gold colored sword and gold round shield.

The sword was quite heavy, and the belt was stiff and cold. The bow and arrows had a bit of moist perspiration on them. On the sword was etched the words 'And the light lead you.'

That night, he magically locked the bats in his closet. Before he shut the door, he said, "Go to sleep."

The next morning, he found Uncle Bally in the kitchen, reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette.

Immediately, the bat babies started hacking. They'd probably never smelled smoke before.

Jacko opened the back door to the kitchen.

"Go out and get some exercise. Hunt, if you will, but you'd better be back before twilight, or I'll find you and bind you. Now, go!"

They zoomed out of the door.

"I must admit," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I was hoping it was all a dream."

Jacko pulled a cup from the cabinet.

"I've been wishing this was all a dream every day for months now."

"So is it safe for you to be here?"

Jacko sat down at the table with his steaming coffee and said, "Not anymore. It seems someone knows I'm here. I would've left yesterday, but I wanted to make sure you were okay first."

"I'm fine," he exhaled and rubbed the back of his head. "I'm just sore is all; had a killer headache yesterday, naturally. Listen, I'm not kicking you out, I'm just wondering if more things, like those demon things, are coming? You said some of them are dangerous."

"Yes."

"You mean, yes, other more dangerous demons could come for you?"

He nodded.

"Just answer me this," he said, staring him right in the eyes. "Are you the antichrist?"

Jacko choked on his coffee.

"Uncle Bally, it's not the apocalypse, like in the bible. You just have to understand that there are many things that man got wrong - including the antichrist. You mustn't bring that up, ever again."

He watched his uncle put the butt to his mouth and take a long drag.

"What should we do to get ready?" he exhaled.

"This isn't you're fight. You'll get killed. Just be prepared to go down into your shelter. If someone comes looking for me, just run. These beings are strong. You can't beat them."

"Son, I've been readying for this ever since the storms. I appreciate your concern for me, but war is what the end of the world is about in every religion! So yes, my life is on the line, just like any other man, woman, and child. If you're fightin' demons, then we must be on the same side: the right side. I know you think I'm not ready to know everything, but I want in on the fight. You can't do everything alone; you're gonna need someone. Now, what do we do?"

Suddenly, it hit Jacko that there was something he could help him with before he had to go.

He got up and went to his room.

A second later, he returned, carrying the bag of arrows and the bow.

"Wow! Where did you get them beauties?"

"Someone left them for me while we were in town. I think I'm supposed to use them, but I don't know how."

Jacko didn't realize how heavy they were. Ever since getting his blessing, he'd become stronger than a normal man. So without thinking, he handed the bag and bow to his uncle, who plopped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

"Ooof!" shouted his uncle.

The bag clanged noisily to the floor, making a huge dent.

"I - I'm sorry! Did you hurt your head?"

"I'm fine, dammit!" he shouted. "What hell? Is that really made of gold?"

"I don't know. I think its gold and platinum. Mom used to tell me stories about these kinds of weapons. They're meant to kill things that don't wound easy. Demons have thick skin."

He helped Uncle Bally off the floor.

That afternoon, he and his uncle set up an enormous foam target in the back. He taught him how to aim far and high, and how to adjust for speed according to target and distance. Uncle Bally used a spare set of bow and arrows he had in his garage while Jacko used the gold ones.

The bat babies, having returned from hunting, seemed to the think the arrows were a game. Cackling like witches, they grabbed them, midair, and threw them back at him and Uncle Bally. The arrows left painful welts on their bodies. Uncle Bally was especially miffed when he saw how easy even the little bat babies could throw the arrows, yet he could barely hold one.

"You stupid sons!" he yelled, when he saw that the arrows were putting dents in the side of his house frame. "You're gonna fix those!!"

Then as they shot the foam target, the bat babies would fly across the path of the arrows, ducking around them. A couple of times, Uncle Bally's arrows caught them, but they just bounced off their leathery skin.

"Will you get out of here?" yelled Jacko.

After a few days, they found Uncle Bally's soft spot. They brought dead squirrels and birds to him, looking for his approval.

"Well, you guys are little warriors!" he laughed.

Although it took a couple days, Jacko got pretty good at archery; so good that the bats started staying a number of feet away. His arrows would've surely split them in half, killing them.

He found that he could get the arrows going faster than his uncle could see.

His uncle had since make shifted a catapult that flung bottles and cans into the air, which Jacko's arrows shattered flawlessly.

"Jacko, have you noticed how the bag keeps filling itself?"

"Huh?"

He looked down at the bag.

Uncle Bally was right. He hadn't retrieved any of the arrows that he'd shot in the last couple of days, yet the bag was full.

That evening, as they and the bats sat down to a stew dinner, there was a loud explosion on the front of the property.

Uncle Bally grabbed his .22.

"Here, take this," he said, handing him one, too.

They ran to the front door.

The sky was a gleam as usual with white and greenish explosions, here and there.

The right portion of the yard was on fire. A figure leapt out of the flames, dancing around in a circle, screaming like an elephant. Its black leathery legs and horned head were visible as the flames melted down its midriff.

"That's a demon, Uncle Bally."

But Uncle Bally was distracted, looking at the sky. He said weakly, "I think your friends are here."

Jacko looked up and saw bodies as big as mountains walking across the atmosphere as though it were solid ground. They were slightly hard to see, as their bodies were mostly fluidly clear, indicating that they were the gods of Ouranus.

"Those aren't my friends, Uncle. They're with the demons."

One of the gods aimed a spear at them. A giant red bolt shot down.

Jacko pushed Uncle Bally out of the way. The beam blew out the front of the house.

"What did he do that for?" he shouted.

Behind the gods, a tribe of black cherubs with demons on their backs galloped across the sky, toward them. Their heads of many eyes a gleam, and their massive wings spread wide.

"Get inside the house!" shouted Jacko.

But Uncle Bally was frozen in fear. He wouldn't move; he prayed, rapidly, under his breat.

He grabbed him by the collar around his neck and shouted, "Uncle Bally, this isn't the Christian apocalypse! This is a war between species, like I tried to explain to you. If the demons catch you, you'll be recycled into the volcano of life, and then you'll be reborn a demon. We have to move, now."

More bolts hit the lawn, combining with the bombs that Bally'd already buried. Grass and dirt covered them.

Jacko dragged Uncle Bally into the house.

"Listen," he said breathlessly, wiping dirt off his face, "go down into your shelter and stay there. I gotta get out of here, but I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Jacko, if you think I'm gonna just let you run off, alone, you're crazy!"

But he didn't have time to respond, for they were clobbered, painfully, to the ground.

It took a moment for Jacko to realize that what clobbered him was the roof of the house.

He struggled to push the wood and shingles off. Once he was free, he saw that the house was completely leveled. The gods that were on his side appeared to have arrived, as all around him, giants jumped about, sword fighting and dodging beams that sailed from the points of tridents, rods and spears.

One demon on cherub, seeing him helpless, sent a dozen red beams at him, but a large white body blocked them all with his sword.

Quickly, he sifted the debris, calling his uncle's name. Finally, he found his hand, but he was out cold.

An alabaster hand, the size of a garbage truck, lifted the debris, cupped Jacko and his uncle in his hand and shouted, "Go, now!!"

And then he threw them high over the mountains.
Meeting Oganat
Chapter 7

With Uncle Bally still passed out, they flew through the cold dark air for nearly an hour until he found a mountain that was covered in the tallest trees he'd ever seen. There was not a single light there, which lead him to believe it might have been completely deserted.

He settled them in amongst the trees. Then he conjured a couple cots and lay his uncle down on one. Next, he tried to heal Uncle Bally the way he healed himself, back in the fig orchard. But for some reason, his powers weren't working. This scared him because he already had a head injury. So he listened to his heart beat and when that seemed strong, he monitored his pulse.

After a while, Jacko determined that Uncle Bally was merely unconscious, so he called fire to keep them warm, though there was no kindling, and layed back on his cot and fell asleep.

By the time Uncle Bally woke the next morning, Jacko had dandelion coffee brewing; although he used his powers to goad the process forward a bit. He also conjured his uncle's favorite brand of smokes because he was often cranky in the mornings without them.

A couple fish smoked on a spit he made, just like his uncle showed him.

"See you've been busy."

He cried and groaned as he tried to sit up.

Jacko rushed to his side and helped him. Then he filled two large bamboo shoots with coffee and handed one to him.

"Phew, that's good! Much better than any I've ever made."

Jacko tasted his, and then laughed. It was good; too good, but that was because he'd cheated.

"I was worried that you might not wake."

"What? I'm fine!"

He tried to stand, but then, immediately, sat back down. He clenched his face, trying not to yell.

"I hurt all over!" he said through gritted teeth.

He lifted the hem of his jeans, revealing a severely swollen ankle.

"I don't think I'll be moving much today."

"Yeah, just relax. I got everything, uncle."

He picked up a large banana leaf, placed a fish on it, and handed it to him.

Uncle Bally took a bite and said, "Hmm. Not bad."

Jacko, then, helped himself.

They ate in silence a few moments before Uncle Bally said, "Well, Jacko, I'm ready."

"For what?" he said, spitting out a bone.

"You to tell me everything. I know why you held back the truth, because you didn't think I'd believe you. Well, I do, now."

Jacko fed the fire a few logs.

"Why are they after you?"

"They're fighting for control of the Earth. In the beginning, the demons ruled, but then their atmosphere was destroyed. The gods moved in, along with mankind. Every millennium since then, there's been a war between demons and gods to take back the Earth."

"But that still doesn't explain why they're after you."

"They think I'm going to end the war, leading the gods in a final victory. Some think this will be the last and the biggest war."

"But you're just a kid."

"Not to the gods."

Jacko continued to answer Uncle Bally's questions. Despite his gut feeling that he shouldn't have told him anything, he spilled his entire misfortune and how it all began. From the night he left home, to the accident in Reno, when he first flipped into the red lands. He explained about his mother and why she married John, the man he thought was his father; how he found out he had twelve brothers and sisters – all with powers, too, and how they were stuck on the summit until he finished a predestined battle against some demon.

"Well, Jacko, that's some story. Now I understand why you've been so up and down. I thought you were just mourning John and Sissy, but I can't imagine what it must be like to know the world is waiting on you."

"Yeah," sighed Jacko.

Though Uncle Bally said he understood, he really didn't know the fear that kept him up every night. He knew he was, likely, going down to die. If he just went to the heaven of the gods, he'd be okay with that, but being demi meant that he, likely, had a soul. All those with souls went into the fountain of youth, and once they were reborn, they forgot everything from before.

After breakfast, Jacko conjured a couple canteens and went back to the stream to get water. Then, finding hare tracks in some shrubs, he set a couple traps.

His uncle slept most of the day while Jacko gathered brush to make a shelter. It was a lot of work. He could've used his uncle's help. Occasionally, Jacko tried to heal him but his powers still wouldn't work that way. He could conjure whatever he willed -- though he chose not to abuse his powers. Still, why couldn't he heal others?

"Here, let me help you, boy," he reached to grab a branch. "OH!" he cried, snapping his arm back.

"It's okay, uncle. You just got clobbered by a house. I got this."

"Yeah, well, the rain's coming. I can smell it in the air, and you've got a ways to go."

He looked to the Fourth of July sky. It had an icy look as if it were inlaid with glass.

"So those flashes of light jetting across the sky are the gods warring?"

Suddenly, there was thunderous sound, as a black cloud pushed out, in the sky. A moment later, ash rained down, heavily on them. Some of it was kind of tender, like flesh.

"Does this answer your question?" asked Jacko, holding up a piece of leather that had red slime on one side.

He tossed the black skin into the fire and said, "You know, I'm just gonna do this over there because I can spread out and get this done faster. Besides, the ground is harder, so we should camp over there, tonight."

He picked up the brush and the palms. "Yell if you need anything."

Uncle Bally was right. The rain was coming, and it was coming fast. There was just no way that he could finish the shelter on his own.

In the bald center of trees, he looked over his shoulder to make sure his uncle couldn't see him. Then he commanded the branches to entwine, and the leaves of the palm tree to braid themselves securely.

As he watched his shelter come erect, he felt someone near.

"What do you want?" he asked aloud. "Are you demon, Titan or friend?"

But no answer came.

"I know you're there."

When the shelter was done, he moved the fire and cots to the bald spot, and then helped his uncle over.

"Wow, Jacko, you're quite the woodsmen."

He'd managed to cover the entire three foot, in diameter, circular bald spot. He'd tied the entwined palm branches to the trees, and layered them, thick, with brush, creating a ceiling tent.

Atop the brush, Jacko created a slope with banana leaves that ran into large bamboo shoots, collecting water for them to drink later.

By the time they were comfortably settled in the shelter, twilight had come and gone.

"I know it's late, but I'm gonna check the traps anyway. I'm starving."

"Of course you are, son. Here," he said, reaching into his pocket. "Take my flashlight. Be extra careful because, if you get hurt, I can't help you."

He traipsed into the tall trees, where every shadow danced sinisterly. Rain ferociously petted his head, running into his eyes, making it harder to see his direction.

The bush to his right shook rapidly. He was sure he saw a little foot.

He froze.

When after a minute, nothing more happened, he continued.

His first trap was empty.

"Damn," he cursed aloud.

The sound of crunching leaves came from beyond the trees behind him.

He spun around.

"Show yourself!" he said shakily.

But all he saw was darkness and tree branches waving, violently, in the wind.

A hundred feet out to the other trap, he was stoked to find a good sized rabbit.

"You've been eating well," he said to it. Too tired to kill it, he said, "Heart, stop."

The rabbit slowly closed its eyes, and it lay motionless on the ground.

He opened the trap, picked the hare up by the ears, and made his way back to camp.

"Woo hoo, boy! Hallelujah!" Uncle Bally laughed jovially.

An hour later, they feasted, happily, despite the dreary weather. He pulled the roasted rabbit from the spit, ripped it in half, and handed one to his uncle.

"Well, I'm surprised this shelter hasn't blown down yet. You must have done a really good job twining."

"Hardly," he laughed.

"You did good, boy. Not a drop of rain on us."

He laughed again.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I cheated."

"Oh, you mean you used your witchy powers."

"They're not witchy! There's no such thing as witches."

"Yeah, okay, okay, I believe you. Listen, you couldn't get me my whiskey, could you? I mean, you said you're a conjurer, right?"

He focused on a point on the ground, and slowly coming into view was Uncle Bally's bottle of Jack.

"Well, what the hell are we doing out here? If you can do that, can't you at least get us a house?"

"No, I think it's wrong to cheat fate. Little things are okay, but not stuff like that."

"Can you heal my ankle?"

"Actually, I tried already. I can't, for some reason. My power isn't limitless, you have to understand. The gods have a thing about crossing the wills and fates of others."

"In other words, you think the gods won't let you heal me?"

"Exactly. If it's your time to be hurt, then you'll be hurt. In their eyes, this all serves a higher purpose. One thing leads to another. That's their philosophy. There's a reason for us being here, indisposed at the moment; although we might not ever know why."

The next morning, Jacko woke to the sound of his uncle pouring dandelion coffee into bamboo shoots.

He limped around, handed one to Jacko and said, "So?"

"So, what?"

He took the coffee and sipped.

"Did one of your friends visit you last night?"

"What do you mean?"

He pointed to under his cot.

The gold bow and bag of arrows lay there, next to the belted sword and shield.

"Huh!" he exclaimed. "I don't know how those got here! Honestly!"

"I thought not," he said, lighting a smoke in the fire. "Someone must be looking out for you though. Got any ideas who?"

"I haven't a clue! I swear!"

Jacko spent the rest of the day hunting with the bow and arrows while Uncle Bally limped to the river, with the rabbit guts, and fished.

That evening, they ate more fish as they stared at the fire. Uncle Bally occasionally took swigs of his whiskey.

Suddenly, there was the sound of someone walking toward them.

Jacko rose with bow and arrow at the ready.

"Who are you? Speak or I'll shoot?"

The sound of footsteps got closer and closer. An outline of a very tall man appeared.

"Put that down, boy!" said the figure.

A few feet closer, and Jacko recognized the figure.

"Oganat!"

Although smaller on Earth than in the red lands, he was still six and half feet with the belly of Buddha, bald and no shirt. His baggy pantaloons swayed around his legs with each step.

He lowered his bow and arrow, and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to talk."

He conjured a stool and sat close to the fire.

"This is my uncle, Bally."

Oganat nodded to him, and then noticed the bow Jacko set on the ground. Then he turned and eyed the bag of arrows, sword and shield lying on the ground, behind him.

"You're nearly ready to fight," he said. "The divine ornamentum don't come to you at any time. Only when you've done something to show that you're ready to handle them."

"Someone left them under my cot."

"They're the divine weapons of the first conjurer, forged by Lucem, and blessed by the chaos. Rightfully, they're yours; they'll never leave you until the end of the battle. Then they'll return to their rightful place in heaven."

"What are the elders saying?"

"They haven't met since before you left heaven."

"What about the dark gods?"

"No, Jacko. Everyone is sitting back and watching the war, though some are cheating."

"What do you mean?"

"Some have, clearly, interfered so their favorites – like you – might win, or at the very least, survive the battle."

"I'm not anyone's favorite. I haven't had any help."

"Of course you have. How do you think it is that you've come this far? The gods have watched your every step. Every time the wind blows, and every time you feel fortunate, thank the gods."

After a moment, Oganat said to Uncle Bally, "You've done well, teaching the boy." He, then, turned to Jacko. "You must draw on those strengths in the final phase of your journey."

"Jacko is not ready for a journey," said Uncle Bally.

"Of course he is. He's a man."

His uncle was about to argue, but Jacko put up his hand. Simply, the gods didn't view what qualified a man as being age and experience.

They stared at the flames in silence for a long while.

"Have you been to the summit?" Oganat finally asked.

"No."

"Don't you miss your family?"

"I worry, but I hardly know them. How can I miss them? The only family I have is Sissy, and she's dead, now."

He waved his arm and images appeared, dancing in the flames.

On one flame, Bordra and Dienla played chess while Alica read a book. Another flame depicted Anle walking in the rose garden, whispering to them the way Sissy used to talk to her tomatoes. The boys were engaged in a game of basketball.

"Where's Manlo and Althenio?"

"Aurora has them."

"Why have you come?" asked Uncle Bally aggressively. "It would be best if you got to the point."

"To congratulate you on the progress you've made, the last few weeks. I know you think you've been hiding, but there is no hiding from us, boy. No, you're right where you should be. But soon you'll have to leave here, and go into the red lands, alone."

"Why?"

"Because you started this, and now you have to end it."

"I didn't start anything," he said defiantly.

"You know that once a demon gets your scent, it's for life. Heaven and hell had an agreement that each would keep to his own side. You started this war when you broke that agreement by wandering into the red lands. This is your war; it started with you and it'll end with you."

"Who is the demon that hunts Jacko?" asked Uncle Bally, exhaling a stream of smoke.

"Manik. He's Jacko's equal in every way. Young, inexperienced, and to some extent, brave. He's the son of Caliga, Lucem's dark godly counterpart."

He sighed, wondering how he was to fight a tough as leather demon.

"When the time comes, you'll know what to do," Oganat said, reading his mind.

"I wish that I could just hide. I don't wanna do this."

"Well, there is one safe place that you could go to: the summit. It's shrouded in mystery. The demons would never find you."

"It wouldn't be right, though."

"Surely, you want to say goodbye to your family, before going to your fate? Now, you'll find the summit by instinct. When you get close, you'll settle to the ground, and continue on foot. Like the fig orchard, it can't be found by will, alone. Once you get to the mount, you'll find a sacred path."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Uncle Bally watched Oganat very intently.

"Well, I think that's all. I should go."

He disappeared in a wisp of air without saying goodbye.

"I don't like him. He gives me a weird feeling," said Uncle Bally. "Are you sure you can trust him?"

"He's strange, I know. They're all strange, the gods."

"I think he's right about one thing: We should go to the summit."

Jacko considered him a moment and said, "As soon as your ankle is better, we will."

Jacko didn't sleep that night. He stared at the ceiling, wondering if it would hurt, much, to die. He couldn't help but contemplate what it must feel like to be stabbed, or to have his body cut in half, which he was sure a powerful demon could easily do.

Thinking these thoughts made him realize that he did, indeed, need to seek the summit. He may have done well at hunting, and shown some ability to fight, but he had not a clue as to how to use the sword and shield.

He rolled over onto his side and stared at their smooth, light yellow shine. They were weapons of war that Manik was sure to be prepared for.

The average demon was as strong as fifty men, one of his brothers told him. After his visit to the fig orchard, his strength had increased, but not that much. Even with divine weapons, would he even have a chance of survival?

And that's why his fear immobilized him; that's why he'd been hiding. No matter what advantages the gods said he had, there was no way he could beat a hunter.

Then Jacko remembered something his mother said to him a long time ago. "An angry man is scary but predictable, a scared man is the one you should fear the most."

She explained this as fear being the only emotion equal to love in power. At the moment of ultimate fear, a man would do extraordinarily, unpredictable things to survive.

Once he was cornered in an alley by a couple guys from school. Joey, Blake, and Young were their names. They were from the poorer part of town, and they were dangerous. Three on one was their favorite game, but Jacko was taller than most kids their age.

When they realized beating down Jacko wasn't easy, Joey pulled out a red stained, pitted knife. He could tell by the scent that the red was real blood; that he'd used it before.

All he remembered was his heart pounding so hard that he felt it in his stomach. His muscles tensed up so awful that, in a mere moment, his whole body hurt.

He did things he didn't know he could; things that some would consider hitting below the belt. But mainly, he acted without contemplation, only realizing what he'd done when his primal instinct told him he could have control over his body, now that his enemies were down.

When he'd come to his senses, it was to see that Young was turning blue, with his neck in Jacko's grip. He released him, immediately.

On the ground, whimpering, Joey's and Blake's face was almost unrecognizable, as they were covered in blood. The knife, also bloodied, lay several feet away.

Before that day, he'd never fought, ever, in his life.

The next day at school, both boys had stitches in their faces, yet he still couldn't exactly remember hurting the boys.

Then he remembered the gods told him that Jove was beaten back so severely, and it was at that moment that he saved the world.

Was that what he looked forward to? Being so physically and emotionally damaged that he'd save the world? As it was, even before his blessing, and after he'd discovered his dead family, he'd had a meltdown that gave him extraordinary strength.

Suddenly, Jacko felt sick. He just didn't want to think anymore. He rolled onto his belly and tried to sleep.

Over the next few days, the storms got worse and worse. His wonderful bush ceiling had finally broken through with rain, making leaks in several spots. At first, they took advantage of the leaks by gathering much water, as they'd need it for when they made their trek to the summit. But that morning, he was woken by the dripping of rain on his forehead.

After a brief breakfast, Jacko put out the fire and pull down a couple sections of brush and banana leaves.

They were just too beaten and needed to be replaced. He went into the forest, setting up traps along the way, until he found what he needed.

On the way back, he spotted Uncle Bally fishing at the river. He was covered with a gray plastic bag to keep out the rain, which hadn't stopped drizzling all day.

He was doing better, but his ankle was still too hurt to travel. It was healing so slowly. That didn't stop him; he did as much as he could to provide. However, Jacko was worried that they might be attacked any day. He just hoped Uncle Bally could handle it. The hunters were known to be excellent trackers. If Oganat could find them, certainly the demons could, too.

"What in the world?" he said, walking down the rocky bank.

There, hanging in the tree, was a line with nearly a dozen fat fish.

"Told ya fishin' is better in the rain," he said, taking a sip of whiskey. "I'm gonna need some of that pine needle tea later, though. Think you'd could fix up some?"

"Yes, of course, uncle, but how are we to eat all that?"

"We'll smoke it. It'll be great for when we go to the summit. Smoking's the most important thing a man, who lives off the land, should know. This way, we have plenty of protein, and we won't have to worry about hunting."

"Well, guess I'd better get back and finish that brush ceiling."

"Hold on, I'll come with you."

Back at their camp, Jacko immediately got to braiding and entwining his new brush while Uncle Bally cleaned the fish.

After he'd done, Uncle Bally went and put the fish guts in the traps, and returned with a possum.

Upon seeing its mask like face, he said, "I'm not eating that."

"Oh, yes, you will," he said. "It's ugly but it's good eatin', believe me."

Jacko clung to a side of the tree, trying to arrange the banana leaves to slope just right.

"Get down, here. I want to show you how smokin's done."

He climbed down, pulled off his wet clothes and wrung them. After hanging them close to the fire, he wrapped up in his sleeping bag and watched.

"Now because we don't have brine or seasoning, we're gonna do things a little different. Fish has lots of parasites, so you want to get a hot fire going. For extra smoke, you wanna use some wood chips."

He pulled a little sack from his pocket.

"These are oak. I don't recommend pine. You want a good filet, and you want to keep them cold, or smoke them right away. Two different methods for smoking: hot and cold. Today, we're doing the cold method because it's rainy and windy, and keeping up this fire is hard enough."

He threw in the chips and set a twine weaved grill above it. Then he layered the top with banana leaves. When it got nice and smokey, he placed several filets under the leaves.

"We left the skin on to give it some flavor, and especially to keep it moist. Often, people make a mistake, discarding the fatty skin, which is actually pretty good. Now, we wait a few hours."

Immediately, their camp filled with a delicious scent. It drew animals, for which Jacko kept his bow and arrow at the side, just in case they were attacked.

"Here, take a swig," he said, handing his shoot of pine needle tea. "You're shivering, and you don't need to get sick right now. Don't worry, I'll make more."

Pine needles littered the camp. He swept them into a pile, with his hands. As soon as he'd made more room on the fire, he set the metal can to boil.

Occasionally, they heard shuffling in the bushes.

"Probably just hungry animals. Hard to hunt in this weather. Keep your bow and arrows at the ready though."

He filled a shoot with tea.

"Whoa, not bad," he said after taking a sip.

He'd used extra pine this time.

The broth was pungent and tasted just like pine should. It wasn't sweet but quite tart. He relished the way it warmed his chest. After being cold and wet for a while, it was a relief.

They sipped their drinks awhile, and then Uncle Bally said, "So where did you meet that Oganat fellow?"

"In the red lands."

He sighed.

"Well, I suppose we should get movin', here, in a day or so."

Jacko flicked his eyes at his uncle.

"Really? But your ankle?"

"Yeah, my ankle. Look I know what you've been thinking, and so have I. I've seen you lookin' at my ankle, and then getting that worried look on your face. You think that if that fellow found us, how long before the others do?"

"Yes, but we shouldn't go until you're ready."

"It doesn't matter if I'm ready. We hang out too long, and we'll both be dead, or in worse shape. If we leave now, we can plan a safe trip. One where we can get to the so called summit without further injuring me. We can take our time. If we wait and get attacked, and I further get injured, then we got a problem."

"What do we do about your ankle? Obviously, a summit is gonna have a hefty incline."

"We'll wrap my foot with a bit of cloth. I'll whittle me a hand comfy walking stick."

"Alright, but let's leave tomorrow. What do you think?"

"I think that's a good idea."

They sat in silence a few moments.

"Do you really think something's funny about Oganat?"

"Well, sure, but it's nothing to worry about. In war, there are always traitors; it's what you do when you find out you've been betrayed that matters."

"Don't you think it's wrong, me ducking out on the fight? Do you think I'm a coward?"

"No, I don't think you're a coward. You're not ready to fight in a war. They don't understand, but you're just a kid. You need to be kept safe."

"Why?"

"Because as much as I've taught you, let's face it, there's more you need to learn. I've seen you, not only staring at my leg, but also at the sword and shield, both which you've hardly touched. It's something I can't teach you, but I bet someone at the summit could."

Jacko nodded his head in agreement. Sometimes it was like Uncle Bally could read minds.

He was about to speak but was distracted by the sound of something large splattering in his face. Hand sized pieces of ice, fully enflamed, flew into the fire and sizzled out.

He stood up and walked to the edge of their camp.

"Have you ever seen anything like it?" Uncle Bally half asked and half said, from behind him.

"Yes, and it's not good. The weather is getting worse, which means the fighting must be getting nastier."

The ice burned out on the ground, leaving black splotches behind.

"Look at that."

He pointed across Jacko's face.

Over in the eastern part of the sky, a blotch of red had colored the sky.

That night, both Jacko and Bally didn't sleep much. Instead they watch the blotch of red slowly spread across the sky.

By morning, the grey was completely gone.

Uncle Bally got up.

"Well," he said, pulling a cigarette from his pack. "I guess this is what hell looks like?"

"Yes, it is."

His uncle set about morning details as usual.

"I think we should leave as soon as possible. The red sky is a sign that the gods are losing. That means the Earth will be crawling with demons, and if we're here, it's gonna be bad. We need to get to the summit, quick."

For the rest of the day, they set to packing up as many essentials as possible. Jacko fashioned an ankle brace and a walking stick out of soft vine.

By the night, they were exhausted.

"I have to admit," said Uncle Bally, taking a swig of whiskey, "I'm a little afraid."

"You are?"

"Yeah, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but you're not afraid of anything."

"Boy, don't be stupid. Of course I feel fear. I'm human; it's what you do in the face of fear that counts. In our case, we put one foot in front of the other. But I think we should leave in the morning. It's already dark, which won't be good. We won't be able to see good places to camp."

Jacko concurred. So for one last night, they lay on their cots.

They weren't down long before a white flash zoomed into their camp, blowing out the ceiling, and leaving a huge hole in the ground where the fire was.

"There here!" shouted Uncle Bally.

Jacko grabbed his packs – as did Uncle Bally, his bow and arrow.

"Take my hand!" he shouted as he ran over to him.

They disappeared into the air right as a black horned demon with red eyes rode into their camp, wailing and shot a beam of antimatter at them.
Garden of Hera
Chapter 8

The crisp air shot daggers in their eyes, through their clothes, and touched every bit of their skin.

Oganat was right: he could feel the summit emanate from somewhere. Almost like it breathed on his skin, but he couldn't see it.

Uncle Bally was hyperventilating.

"Breathe, uncle, breathe."

Just as Oganat said, the summit seemed to evade him. Below was a mountain that called to him, yet he was lost as to where, specifically, they should land.

Wanting to get as close to the mount as possible, he continued flying in circles until Uncle Bally started to retch.

Upon touching down, he felt the summit, like it had a heart that beat into him.

"How far is it?"

His uncle, on all fours, breathed hard.

"I'm not sure."

"Which way do we go?"

He turned around in a circle and said, "That way, toward that peak."

All around was flat land, but in the distance a mountain loomed all the way up into the cloud layer.

"Oh, Jacko, that's gotta be a hundred miles. Getting there could take a week, or longer with my ankle. We don't' have enough supplies for that, and I'm not counting climbing the actual mountain, either."

"I can try to get us closer."

He reached out for his uncle's arm.

"No." He yanked his arm away. "I think I'd rather walk, but can we rest first?"

Uncle Bally slowly lowered himself to the ground, where he laid back against a tree trunk.

"We didn't get any sleep, and it's still night, might I remind you."

Jacko made a fire and sat next to him. Together, they looked at the sky which was a burgundy wine color, at the moment. It was strange the way the moon and stars gleamed white against it.

"In a strange way, it's kind of pretty," said Uncle Bally.

By morning, the sky turned bright red, like a cherry. After a bit of coffee, they began their trek.

As they made their way through a mile of short, crisp leaved bushes, Jacko noticed an herb like fragrance came from them, almost like basil except fresher and with a bit mint. He'd never smelled nor seen bushes like them before.

Another mile and they approached a small orchard of trees from which the crispest green apples hung. He and Uncle Bally stopped and packed as many as they could.

Like biting into a carrot, a loud crunch noise sounded when he took a bite. Juice that had a light lemon-like tang rushed over his tongue. One thing he knew was apples didn't taste like that; not where they were from – even the air smelled different, cleaner.

He looked around and wondered aloud, "Where do you suppose we are?"

"Well, if the stories told the truth, isn't Mount Olympus the summit of the gods? And if so, that means we're in Greece. Even I know that, Jacko." He leaned on his staff and pointed at the land to both sides of the mountain. "The highest peak in Greece supposedly borders what used to be Macedonia and Thessaly. Kind of interesting how, here, it's pure bush, and there, it's mostly flatlands."

"Oh, uncle," he sighed. "I have no idea how we're gonna get up that mountain. Oganat said to follow the trail, but look at that incline."

"Don't worry. I have some knowledge of making rope pulleys. We'll figure something out. We'll need to forage and hunt, so we'll need to break before we actually climb anyway. If we're forced to climb, we'll be too tired to hunt along the way."

The atmosphere, even where they stood was thinner than in California. The temperature was extremely chilly, which actually made the conditions ideal for Uncle Bally's ankle.

Another strange thing Jacko and his uncle noticed about the forest was that it was too quiet. They neither heard birds nor the random cracking of brush limbs; no patter of animals running away as they approached, followed by the shaking of tree and shrub limbs.

In short, there was no sign of other life, and nothing to hunt.

"That's impossible, Jacko. There's got to be something here. We just don't know how to find it is all."

"I hope you're right. We can't live on apples. They'll dehydrate us, and if we can't find water, we're screwed."

Uncle Bally, who was determined not to be slowed down by his ankle, kept up rather well. Jacko cleared all pathways for him, holding back branches and moving rocks or tree trunks out of the way, when he could.

Finally, it was late afternoon, and they were, both, hot and thirsty.

They nestled in along the ridge of an enormous boulder that jutted out of the ground.

"How does your ankle feel?"

"Surprisingly good, though I regret holding you back."

"Uncle, you're doing great," he said as he got a fire started. "Much better than I thought you would."

"Yes, well, I'm afraid we haven't even walked more than a few miles. At this rate, it could take longer than I estimated just to get the base of the mountain."

"That's alright. I'm happy taking our time. If you think I really want to go to the mount, you're crazy! I'm sick of this whole god business."

"It's more than a boy, your age, should have to handle."

He pulled out their sleeping bags and food.

That evening, they fed on reheated smoked fish, which Jacko liked very much. Even the fatty skin was too tasty to toss.

The next day was more of the same. They walked and walked, but only covered half a dozen miles before Uncle Bally needed to elevate his ankle. But at about noon, they heard something.

They stopped.

A throaty whistle, like a mating call, came from their left.

"What was that?"

"It sounded like a bird call," said his uncle.

"Should we check it out?"

"No, we're making terrible time as it is."

So they continued on for another mile when they stopped at the sound of a branch breaking and a crackling sound.

They followed the noise to just beyond the brush to their left. Before a small fire, they found a teen boy, no more than fourteen, skinning a black and reddish bird.

He was skinny with blond hair and blue eyes. When he looked up at Jacko, he was struck with a nostalgia so powerful that his knees almost buckled.

A name burned the end of his tongue, yet wouldn't pass through his lips, though he tried to force it out.

"You frightened me," the boy said. "Are you good people, or do we fight?"

He stood and raised his bloodied knife to an en guard position.

"We won't hurt you. I'm Jacko, and this is my uncle, Bally."

"I don't have extra food, so if you're here to beg..."

"We have our own supplies," Jacko interrupted.

"Have we met before?"

"Maybe."

The way the kid looked at him, Jacko knew he was just as struck. And in the last few weeks, he'd learned that nothing was coincidence in this godly time of war. So although he'd never met the kid before, he knew it was possible they'd spent time together - in some other life.

"I'm Julius."

"No, that's not your name," Jacko said a little more accusatory than he meant.

"Oh and Jacko is yours?" he asked sarcastically.

They looked at each other a moment.

"Translation?" said Uncle Bally, looking at Jacko.

"Huh?"

"What's going on? What're you guys talking about?"

"It's okay; I speak English, too," said the boy.

Suddenly, comprehension dawned on Jacko. Ever since Lucem possessed him, he'd left behind a strange knowledge of languages. As before, and at that moment, he didn't realize he was speaking Greek, he just did it.

"This is Julius."

"Please, why don't you sit?"

He gestured to the ground.

Jacko helped Uncle Bally with his bags, and then they sat opposite Julius, in front of the fire.

"Now, what is your real name?"

"I told you, it's Jacko."

"Maybe it is; maybe it isn't," he said, his eyes glistening with determination.

"If anyone shouldn't trust someone, we shouldn't trust you," Uncle Bally said. "A young boy out here, all alone. Seems suspicious to me."

"I've been alone for a while, now."

"How long?" asked Jacko.

"It's been over six months. I came when the skies turned gray."

"Why did you come here?"

"The people in the cities were going crazy, and I knew I'd be safer in the forest. It's loaded with fowl and other resources, and there's plenty of water."

As Julius talked about the state of civilization, Jacko expanded his fire and put on a pot of tea.

Julius finished gutted his duck and was slicing it into chunks.

Noticing the scent, he asked, "What is that?"

"Pine needle tea: it's loaded with vitamin c. Helps our immune system, and especially in this cold and dreary, sunless weather. Helps us not get worn down, peps us up."

"Yes, and what is that?"

He pointed to the green cylinder in his hand.

"It's a bamboo shoot."

"Where? They're not here?" he said in broken English. "Where-you from?"

"California."

His mouth opened and his eyes got wide.

"Have you been stuck here, in Europe, a long time? It must be hard not knowing if your family is well."

Uncle Bally and Jacko looked at each other.

"May I see?"

Jacko handed it to him.

"It's hard as a rock."

He gave Jacko back the bamboo. Then he watched the pine needles hop about the boiling water, which turned light brown.

"May I try? I've been sniffling, lately," he asked, holding out a little silver cup.

"Sure."

Jacko trickled the water into his cup and watched him sip.

His eyes widened.

"That is good. I never thought of that. Wait, I have an idea."

He went up to a green leafy tree, right behind him, and came back.

"Maple," said Uncle Bally, spotting the mold of brown sap in his hand.

He dropped it in the pot and gave it a stir for a bit.

When Julius had done, he served them.

"That is very nice!" said Jacko, licking sap from his lips.

"Listen, you wouldn't mind showing us a few things, around here, would ya?" asked Uncle Bally. "We can't seem to find food, yet here you are, with a beautiful bird."

"You're kidding right? There's food all around. Look at this!"

He pulled a large sack of the brightest green olives from his bag.

"They're the best I've ever had. Try?" he offered.

Jacko, who'd had fresh olives before, wanted to resist, but took one anyway. And like he remembered, it was bitter, but Julius' olives were oily-smooth like he'd never had before.

"That's really good," said Uncle Bally with enthusiasm. He'd always had a taste for briskly things.

"There's something about this place. Maybe it's just well preserved, but everything tastes real good. I don't know how to explain it. Look at this," he produced a small jar with light greenish-clear fluid into Uncle Bally's hands. "I grinded them and sieved them myself."

"Very nice," said Uncle Bally, looking thoroughly impressed. "This forest is a luxury, compared to where we're from."

"This place doesn't have a wide variety – like I've never seen any deer, squirrel or rabbit, but there's an overabundance of pheasant, peacocks, and ducks. When I first came, they littered the forest like rocks at every turn. Now, they know I want to eat them, so they're more careful. But they have a very specific routine that follows day break and twilight. They wake, they walk to drink and spend the day foraging, and then they walk back to their sleep spot; almost never changing their route, except when one of theirs is hunted. But they still don't change much."

He placed a small pan on the mesh grill he'd set atop the fire. Jacko's insides quivered when he poured a bit of the olive oil into the pan and tossed in the chunks of duck meat.

Jacko could tell Uncle Bally was just as affected by the sight of oiled, hot meat.

The rest of the evening, they ate savory duck and olives with pine needle tea. Jacko and Uncle Bally licked their fingers as they told Julius a little more about themselves, leaving out the bits about the gods and demons and wars.

As it turned out, Julius had lived on a small farm outside Edessa, a city in the north. His mother and father went to the coast to find his brother, who was a fisherman. It didn't make sense why they left him behind, but he figured it was better not to ask. He didn't want to ruin the first enjoyable evening he'd had since his uncle's house got blown up.

They sat in silence, staring into the flames of the fire and sipping more tea.

"Gaia gave Hera a garden on her wedding day," said Jacko dreamily. He didn't know why he said it; it just came to him.

Julius dropped his jaw.

"What?"

"Nothing, but why did you just say that?"

Julius looked surprised.

"I don't know. What's so special about it?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Just some dreams I've been having."

"Oh yeah," Jacko perked up. "Like, what?"

"War, devils, gods, angels, all fighting. And a boy whom I'm kin to, and try to save, but for some reason, I never see if I succeed. The dream always fades at that point."

He observed Julius' eyes which were white-like by the light of the bright fire.

"Have you ever met someone who didn't seem," he paused coyly, "human? Maybe had really hard or shiny looking skin? Maybe seemed like he had supernatural powers?"

"I don't believe in the supernatural. I understand, not, what you ask."

Jacko and Uncle Bally looked at each other a moment. They read a million thoughts in each other's minds. He didn't know what the purpose of meeting the boy was, but he knew that he wasn't going to let him out of his sight.

"Well, I'm so glad to have run into you. Really, you're so nice and, well, listen, my uncle and I are headed to the mountain. At the top, there's a safe haven. My family is already there. You should come with us!" he said with too much enthusiasm.

When he looked about ready to protest, he added, "I mean it's nice out here, but wouldn't you like to have a hot shower and sleep in a bed? Wouldn't it be nice?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he looked away. "Actually, I kind of lied about how I got to be here. It's just that it sounds really bad."

He sighed and then continued, "It was my mother who brought me to this forest. Only, we camped about a 100 miles south of here. She wasn't bad, like you must think; she was a great mother, and I know she loves me. She used to tell me stories about Hera. That's why I was surprised when you mentioned her. My mother likes the old stories, too.

Anyway, we went to sleep, and that night, I had a dream. In it, she who came to me, telling me how to reach the Garden of Hera. She told me as long as I stayed here, I'd never starve or suffer. When I woke the next morning, she'd gone. I looked for her for days, but then she came to me again, in my dream, and said to come here and stay until it's time; not to look for her anymore."

"I thought you didn't believe in the supernatural?"

"I don't, but I think that dream was real. Besides, she might come back for me."

"Aren't you tired of being alone?" asked Uncle Bally.

"Sometimes my mother talks to me. I hear her whisper through the leaves of the trees, and at times, her soulful vibrato in the rushing river water. So I'm not really alone."

They didn't press the matter. But that night, they slept feeling better than they had in a while. Jacko told Uncle Bally that nothing would dare get them in Hera's garden, and he believed that was exactly where they were. His uncle must have believed him, too. For the first time, he didn't stay awake, keeping watch while Jacko drifted; instead he was out the minute he laid down.

To their surprise, the next morning they woke to Julius puttering about the camp.

"Sorry if I woke you. He placed a pan on the fire and cracked half a dozen eggs into it."

"Are those duck eggs?" asked Uncle Bally.

"Yeah, they're a little game tasting, but they're still pretty good."

Jacko and Uncle Bally pulled out some apples and coffee to go with it.

"So I was wondering, is your offer still good?"

"You mean for you to come with us? Yes. Why have you changed your mind?"

"This is gonna sound crazy, but she came to me, again, last night. She told me to go with you to the mount."

Jacko and Uncle Bally looked at each other again.

"What is it?" he said, sounding slightly annoyed. "You, two, exchanged looks like that before."

"It's nothing," said Jacko, shaking his head.

"Like hell. You guys aren't tricking me, are you?"

"No, why would we?"

He looked at them a moment, and then returned to pushing the eggs across the pan. Still, Jacko had the feeling of distrust from him.

Trying to lighten the tension Uncle Bally said, "You are quite the survivalist." He poured Julius a cup of dandelion coffee. "And this forest is real luxurious. Who knew outdoor living could be so delicious."

"You just gotta know what to look for. It's real easy to live here. Everything is so fresh. Although learning fire was kind of a hassle, but I got it down," he said, nodding to a little block of magnesium that lay next to his bag.

"Oh, hell, I can teach you to make fire the natural way, but first, I gotta take care of some business."

"Oh, let me help you," said Jacko, knowing that he didn't need it.

He pretended to heave Uncle Bally for several feet, until they were blocked by some trees. Jacko said, "So how much you wanna bet he's like me but doesn't know it?"

"Well, you can't tell him. Something tells me he's even more stubborn than me. He won't believe you, yet. But I think you did well by inviting him along. Better to stick together. Maybe he's powerful, too."

"What if he's not really on our side? One thing you gotta understand is demons, gods, and angels all have human offspring, and not all are good."

"I don't know, Jacko. I get the feeling he may be sincerely ignorant. If you want my advice, we should bring him along. However, I'll let you make the call since you're the one whose neck is on the line."

"Well, if you think he may be true, then yeah, we'll bring him. But you gotta keep an eye on him. I'm not good at reading people like you."

"No kidding, Jacko. I'm no idiot!"

He traipsed off, by himself, behind some trees.

Fifteen minutes later, they returned to camp.

"Is there water nearby?" Jacko asked.

"Yep, the freshest stream you'll ever know. You can wash, and the water never stagnates, so it's safe to drink, too."

They followed him several hundred feet to the clearest water they'd ever seen. Instantly, Julius went down the side bank and dipped his water bottle in, collecting from the top, climbed back up, and took a long drink.

"Surely, you boil your water, boy! Are you crazy?"

"It's the cleanest safest stream in the world. Trust me."

Jacko moved closer to the edge of the bank and watched the water gush. It glistened almost like diamonds. He went down and stuck his cupped hand in the flow.

Julius was right. It tasted sweet-like with an essence of nectar. When Jacko splashed it on his head, face and hair, his skin seemed to drink it through his pores.

"This place is amazing," said Uncle Bally, who'd managed to shimmy his way down. "You think it's magical?" he asked Jacko out of the corner of his mouth.

"I do," he replied certainly.

Then another memory came back to him as he watched his uncle, sitting on the ground, unwrapping his sore foot and splashing water on it.

"Come on," he said, pulling him up.

"I don't want to get into the same place we're drinking."

"No, if it is what I think it is, it won't matter. This water will never get us sick."

He helped his uncle limp his way down the mud.

"Stick your whole foot in the water, past your ankle."

All the while, Julius watched, silently.

His uncle got a funny look on his face after a bit.

"What's wrong?"

"My ankle doesn't hurt anymore."

He turned and walked up and down the bank a few paces.

"It's almost like it was never sprained."

"The River Styx," said Jacko under his voice.

"The River Styx," said Julius, who'd come down the bank and, now, stood beside him, "was a place where dead souls go."

"Yes, but not according to the epic poem about Hera, who favored the goddess, Thetis. She gave birth to Achilles, who was dipped in the River Styx. That's what made him indestructible, well, except his ankles and feet."

"Maybe his ankle wasn't as twisted as you thought," said Julius. "You Americans have quite the imagination. You think we're all superstitious. Look I'm Greco-Latin, and not even I believe this stuff."

Though they didn't argue with Julius, they couldn't help but exchange knowing looks again.

They spent the rest of the day hunting pheasants and peacocks, which Uncle Bally, then, taught them how to smoke. It made their packs heavy, but now that his ankle was better, he could handle it.

That night, Jacko caught Uncle Bally smoking and watching Julius with a look of curiosity. He shifted his eyes to Julius. He looked too innocent to be a warrior. But then, who was he to judge? He asked himself and rolled over onto his side.

The next morning, they had their dandelion coffee and headed out after some eggs and apples.

For a brief time that day, the sun broke out, though it hardly looked cozy against the terrible cherry red sky. Instead it broke out into a violent orange that burned the eyes upon even trying to look upward. For a while, they even contemplated traveling at night. Luckily, it was only temporary. Several hours later, the clouds moved in and covered the sun almost completely.
Up the Rise
Chapter 9

Over the next week, they made much progress. To Jacko's delight, they covered fifteen miles each day, only breaking for lunches of smoked fish and water. But the day they finally reached the mountain base, the temperatures dropped, dramatically, and it even rained.

"This has never happened before," said Julius, from under a plastic green parka. "This place has never been affected by weather. It's just been the same every day, except for when the skies turned red."

Jacko and Uncle Bally didn't like the sound of that, but they kept quiet as usual.

They stood, facing a fifteen foot mound that, right above it, was a jagged rock cliff. The cliff was approximately 10 feet thick, and appeared to go around the mountain and wind up to the top, disappearing into the thick cloud layer that shrouded the summit.

"I don't see any paths," said Uncle Bally to Jacko.

"What do you think we should do? Climb up the hill, or walk around and look for the supposed trail?" asked Julius.

Jacko looked at Uncle Bally who was looking at the circumference of the hill, which was as big as a mall. Then he stepped back a bit and looked at the jagged rock above the hill.

"Uncle Bally, look," he said, pointing to the cliffs.

The winding white-ish rock had deep horizontal lines etched, purposefully, into them: long lines from the top to the bottom that looked almost like a sign, telling them they were in the right place.

"That does look like it could be a trail," said Uncle Bally. "But what if it really goes around like that?"

He was right to be concerned. Such a trail could increase their travel time from a couple days to many weeks.

"We have no choice but to turn back," he said, sounding hopeful that Jacko would agree.

Something was nagging Jacko, though.

"We have to get up this hill," he said, scratching his head. "I don't think that's the trail; it's just a sign, letting us know we're in the right place."

"Jacko, a climb up this hill could kill us."

"Yeah," said Julius. "And even if we make it, when we get up there, we won't have enough food to endure such a winding trail!"

"That's not the actual trail!" he said more forcefully. "We'll climb this hill, and if we don't see a more obvious way to the summit, then we'll turn back."

"Yeah, but it's raining. We might hurt ourselves, trying to get up there," Julius suggested, motioning to the slippery, muddy hill.

"I'll go first," said Uncle Bally.

"No, I will. When I get up there, I'll throw down the rope. Julius will go second, because if he falls, I can hall him up. Then you'll go last, Uncle Bally, that way there are two of us to pull you up, if you should fall, too."

Uncle Bally handed Jacko the tied up rope, which he put in his backpack. Gently, he put his right foot on the incline of the hill. He pressed his foot down, hard, testing the sogginess. Then he bent over, placed his hands on a large rock that protruded, and used it to help pull him up the first few feet of the mountain base.

Easily, his toes pushed into the soggy mud, creating a bit of slip each time, but settling just right, almost like a foot divot in a wall.

A few more feet up, he noticed a row of jagged rocks that he climbed over to and followed to the top of the hill.

Ten minutes later, he stood atop, turning around, looking for some other sign of a trail.

Next, went Julius, who seemed to be part monkey, as he scaled up the base in half the time. Julius turned and tossed the rope down to Uncle Bally who, then, tied it around his waist. He struggled the most but got there all the same.

As they stood there, looking about, they were momentarily disappointed. There weren't any other signs of trails, but then, all of a sudden it appeared.

"Did you see that?" asked Julius.

Jacko turned his head to see what he spoke of. Where the down side of the hill was, a moment ago, now laid a dirt trail that was lined with trees and bushes. He followed it with his eyes, and saw that it led up and out of sight, behind the other side of the mountain.

"That must be it," Jacko said and walked on.

They followed the trail, which, except for the rock grades, was fairly easy. However, Uncle Bally seemed the worse for it, as he wasn't accustomed to hiking such tight angled inclines.

From the ground, the mountain looked like a dry dirt rock with some green. But now, they were drenched in a moisture rich atmosphere, surrounded by scented plush green grass and tall coniferous trees that blocked out much of the sky.

As before, they didn't see any signs of other life. They had a ton of food but there was no telling how long it would take them to reach the actual summit. Hunting could be dangerous, especially if they had to go far off trail to find food.

The intensity of the trail led them to take frequent drinks of water. Thirst was, quickly, becoming a problem, so when Julius wasn't looking, he tried to enchant their bottles the way he'd enchanted Uncle Bally's whiskey and cigarettes to replenish itself. It didn't work. Puzzled, he tried a dozen more times, and finally gave up.

In the evening, when Uncle Bally asked why he looked so worried, he told him.

"What do you think it could be?" Jacko asked, running his hands, agitatedly, through his hair.

"I don't know. This place must be anti-enchantments."

Jacko looked at Uncle Bally, a moment, and wondered if they'd, also, spent time together in another life.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I don't know. Sometimes you say such smart things, and it makes me wonder if you and I have been here before. How would you know to make a suggestion such as anti enchantments?"

Uncle Bally merely looked at him, and sipped his whiskey.

"I don't believe in reincarnation. What sort of Christian do you think I am?"

Ignoring his reply, he asked, "Have you ever had a sense of deja vu while with me?"

Lightly, he pursed his lips and looked away.

"Uncle Bally?"

But he said no more, as Julius had emerged from the trees.

"I'm worried; it's getting colder."

~~~

When they woke at sunrise, it was to discover temperatures dropped another ten degrees; then there was a light afternoon snow. Julius wanted to continue, but they decided to give it a rest for Uncle Bally who'd started complaining about his arthritis.

Off the trail, toward the mountain side, the incline of the actual rise made excellent protection against the elements. They settled as close to the mountain wall as they could. Combined with the trees, not only were they shielded from the snow fall, but they found good insulation that stayed their fire from withering, keeping them warm through the night.

As much couldn't be said for the next night: Twenty more miles up the cold mountain, Julius tried to get a fire going, but even with a magnesium block and a piece of char cloth, it was too moist and cold. Uncle Bally asked Julius to help him gather more wood so that Jacko could give it a try. Fire wasn't a problem when you could control heat, but as with the water bottles, his efforts were useless.

When Julius and Uncle Bally got back from the bush to find Jacko still running the back of his blade along the flint, sending sparks into the magnesium shavings, his uncle gave him a look that said a thousand words.

"I know, I know," Jacko said and exhaled loudly. He passed the flint and knife so Uncle Bally could try. "We need to get to the summit as quickly as possible."

Thankfully, Uncle Bally got the fire started that night, with a combined effort of spark throwing from all three of them.

Relieved, they both settled in and relaxed.

"You know," said Julius, pulling out the cookware. "I sort of think we should go back, especially since neither one of you knows how much further we need to go."

"I know, and I'm sorry. If you need to go, it's fine."

Jacko pulled out a pack of pheasant meat and the bottle of olive oil and handed it to Julius.

"By myself? That might be more dangerous." He poured some olive oil into the pan. "No, I'm staying. Mother came to me last night. She said to stay with you both; that we'd make it, though it would be rough."

Uncle Bally who was puttering with the metal can, gathering snow for water - for tea, looked at Jacko.

Julius looked at them, looking at each other, and said with blue eyes wide, "I know I sound crazy, but my dreams have never let me down before. So I know that you, two, must be worried, but don't. We will be fine."

Uncle Bally smiled, shook his head and kept gathering snow.

"You know, that makes me feel so much better. Yes, I was really worried," said Jacko, the relief sounding out in his voice. Even if Julius didn't know why his dreams always panned out, Jacko and Uncle Bally knew it was a good omen. And that night, they slept most restfully, knowing that, soon, they'd be in a place that would protect them from the end-of-times war.

The next morning, they were, each, so sore that they were practically crippled. Jacko'd never had such a painfully stiff neck. His shins felt as though they'd been through a cheese grater. Every step taken was a leg in an iron maiden.

Jacko helped Uncle Bally stretch his muscles for a good thirty minutes after breakfast before they went on their way. For good measure, Julius joined them in their exercises.

The weather dampened considerably, wearing away at their good nature like rust on metal. By nightfall, temperatures were down another twenty degrees. A heavy snow fall had begun; the sky turned almost purple, and the moon looked grey, as did the clouds.

Poor Uncle Bally couldn't continue, and Jacko had no intention of forcing him.

At first, Julius was disappointed that they should lose a day of walking, but then he conceded, stating that everything would work out the way it was meant to be. His words were just another grouping to pass his lips that made Jacko wonder, with killer curiosity, who the heck he really was.

Nothing is a coincidence anymore, he muttered under his breath, as he followed Julius and Uncle Bally off the trail.

Over the next few days, it was more of the same. They pushed on in spite of their pain, yet every other day they had no choice but to rest. It was one thing to push on in a warm atmosphere; however, the cold had a way of contracting not only muscles, but tendons, touching right down to the bone, making an otherwise normal person have to work twice as hard just to flex. Each step taken in the cold was a step taken with a ten pound weight strapped to his calf.

The higher they got up the mountain, the more force the elements used to beat them down. Dense gravity became their mortal enemy, manipulating wind and snow to act like darts to pierce through every single layer of clothing, and stab right through their skin.

But the lowest point of their trip would come when they found themselves facing a grade so steep that they needed a rope pulley to get over it.

Finally, on the sixth day, it was just too cold to continue at all.

"I don't think I can go on," said Uncle Bally. "I'm so sorry. You'll have to continue without me. I can't take much more pain. I'm just an old man."

"Nothing to be sorry for," said Julius, sounding relieved that Uncle Bally spoke up. "I think we should all rest. My legs hurt badly. How are you feeling, Jacko?"

"Like crap. I agree; let's rest. Anything to get out of this horrible weather."

Like wading through water, they took giant steps off the path, sinking feet deep each time they stepped toward the mountain rise. Sounds of branches breaking echoed through the trees. Every so often, a throng of snow would shake loose from a branch and blanket Jacko's entire head.

An indescribably soft sound of relief sung out from him. In the rise, there was a five foot clear black hole.

"Do you think it's safe?" Jacko asked his uncle.

"Give me a minute," he replied.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a flashlight, then disappeared into the black clearing.

"Are you okay?" he shouted into the cave.

"Yeah, come on in!"

Carefully, they walked into the darkness. Several feet in, Uncle Bally stood in the middle of an empty cave, looking quite pleased. Jacko grinned at the ceiling that rose well above their heads. They were walled in with ten feet of space, around.

"It's perfect," said Julius, looking just as happy as Jacko felt. He set his bag down. "I can already feel that it's warmer in here than it is out there."

"I'm gonna go get firewood," said Jacko.

He set down his pack and left.

When he came back, it was to find his uncle had already gotten a fire started. Warmth of the blazes bounced off the cave walls and smothered their skin. Julius looked happy; his cheeks, rosy.

That night, Jacko relished sleeping without having to bury his head in his sack to keep in the warmth. It was a luxury to spend the entire night in slumber without constantly shivering. The next morning, when he woke, all the aches in his body had gone.

Happily, they rested the next two days in the cave. They hoped the snow would let up so they could keep hiking. The hours were spent mostly sleeping. On the third day, when they saw the snow wouldn't let up, Julius became sullen.

"Don't be so down," said Uncle Bally. "You know we'll make it."

"I know. I'm just sick of this weather, and I keep thinking about what will happen if we run out of food while waiting, here. I know we'll make it but I don't want to suffer until then."

"If we need to, we'll send Jacko out to hunt. He's skilled. Can you travel?" Uncle Bally asked, winking his eye.

If he meant fly off the mountain or conjure food, he was sure the answer was no. His powers still didn't work on the mountain.

How long could a person could survive without food? He was pretty sure he'd heard two weeks, depending on a few factors including body fat ratio. Looking at Julius and his own skinny frame, he doubted they'd last that long.

When Julius left the cave for a moment, Uncle Bally asked, "Are you sure we're still going in the right direction?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I can feel the summit like a heart. The higher up we get, the stronger the beat. We're still a good ways off, though. My gut tells me that it's at least a few days away, but with the snow mounting, making it safely will be a challenge. The only thing that keeps me from despair is that Julius' dream-mother seems to know our fate."

He pulled out his whiskey and took a sip.

"Maybe you should fly ahead, and then come back for us."

He screwed the cap back on.

"No, I can't. Remember, Oganat said the summit can only be found on foot. And besides, my powers seem to be limited, here. If I leave, I might have to trek all the way back."

~~~

A few mornings later, sifting sounds echoed off the walls of the cave, calling Jacko from the mists of his mind. He tried to disappear back into the world where the sun shone again, and the Earth hadn't had rain in weeks, but the sounds made earthquakes in his ear drums. And after each quake came the splattering. The splattering increased in frequency, followed by a huffing noise.

He rolled over and rubbed his eyes. Then like peeling an orange, he forced back his dry lids.

Repeatedly, Julius pushed and pulled at something white that blinded him for a few seconds, and then he threw the stuff into the corner of the cave.

Jacko sat up in his sleeping bag.

"Uncle Bally," he said.

"Hm?" he groaned.

"We're snowed in."

For at least an hour, they pulled snow in with their hands because they only had one tiny shovel.

The cold traveled from the tips of his fingers all the way down to the middle of Jacko's body. He could tell Julius and Uncle Bally were just as affected.

To conserve heat and wood, they reduce the size of their fire. Instead, they settled for huddling when they took breaks from digging snow.

Then Uncle Bally told them to stop.

"We need to stop just pulling all the snow away, and dig a smaller hole."

"Why do we have to dig at all? Don't you know any good survivalist tricks?" Jacko whined.

"What? You mean the one where we just walk through solid snow, like we're ghosts or something? That trick?"

"This is no joke, Bally," said Julius. "We might freeze."

"We won't freeze," he said, rolling his eyes and rubbing his damp hands over the fire. "Snow provides great insulation. Haven't you ever heard of an igloo? Right now, this cave is blockaded by so much snow that we need to focus on burrowing out a small hole. To do that, it'll be easier if we take turns at it. The hole will be just big enough for one of us to pass through, at a time."

"Why?" asked Jacko.

"Because if we haven't reached the top yet, it means that there's so much snow blocking us in that we could kill ourselves trying to get out, if we're not careful. If we focus on digging out a smaller area, we'll dig out a longer trail more quickly. The only problem is there's still a chance that the weight of the snow, if it keeps dropping, could make the tunnel cave. If it should collapse on one of us, and we can't get out in time, we might suffocate."

He paused a moment and then continued. "On the other hand, I can't help but think that even if we get out of here, we can't continue in this weather and survive. There are all sorts of dangers, like avalanches, running out of food, injuring ourselves, frost bite. We might not find shelter as good as this. So we may not entirely be at a loss, though we lose time. Maybe we should think about simply waiting it out, rather than go through the trouble of digging."

"No, Uncle Bally. You, both, can stay behind, but I can't. I have to get to the summit. We have to try," said Jacko. "Please, let's keep digging."

Digging a smaller hole didn't speed things along, as they'd hoped. After a couple hours passed, with only a few feet of trail, they realized they needed to burrow even smaller.

By the end of the day, they'd managed approximately 7 feet of trail with a slight incline. The diameter was merely 4 feet wide, and a tight fit especially for Uncle Bally. But they'd doubled their displacement time which made them happy, except Julius.

"I just can't believe how many hours we spent at this," he shouted. "We're still stuck in here. I feel like a corpse in a coffin."

"Don't get riled up," said Uncle Bally with a mouthful of smoke. "The most important thing is to stay calm. Besides, we got plenty of food, for now. We just gotta take it easy."

"Remember your dream? We're gonna be okay."

"Jacko, are you crazy? If it keeps dropping feet of snow, we'll never get out of here. As it is, we're digging outward and not upward enough."

"That's the way it has to start," said Uncle Bally, sipping his tea. "The rise of the mountain will collect the most snow because of how it's positioned. Because of that, we need to make sure the entrance of the tunnel is going to hold. The topmost part of the snow will continue to harden, and will hopefully hold additional snow fall. Now, if we burrow too far up, disturbing the snow we hope will harden and hold, then we risk it caving, sending that much more snow in here. We're gonna continue burrowing out, moving upward gradually. The further from the rise, the thinner the snow, and the higher up we'll dig."

~~~

A few days later, though they worked at the snow for many hours, they were still stuck. Their food supplies diminished, and they'd run out of ground dandelion and pine needles. But like Uncle Bally said, the snow atop hardened and held. Though they didn't see it, they knew the snow fell speedily by the incline of their tunnel, which now tracked out for over twenty feet, and rose up by five and a half. That day, they decided to dig only upward, afraid that to burrow too far out might be to fall off the side of the mountain. And they did so successfully, only to have a minor cave in; an indication that, as Bally said, they were disturbing snow that was higher up and less compacted. As they continued to use the snow from the farthest part of the tunnel for water, it wasn't too big of a deal.

Jacko hated the digging. On a couple days, he was sure his fingers would fall off; that he'd gotten frost bite.

"Quit your whinin'" yelled Uncle Bally, taking a drag off his cigarette.

Even worse than dealing with the tunnel was the boredom. Julius was going stir crazy. On a few occasions, Jacko caught him staring at him with a strange blankness in his eyes.

Fortunately, Jacko had a couple books in his bag; all of which they read through quickly.

One evening, as Jacko zoned out while staring at the ceiling, imagining that he was at his favorite fifties restaurant having a burger so juicy that he used his tongue to catch the liquid running down his wrists, Julius asked, "Do you think we could run out of oxygen?"

Uncle Bally rolled his eyes as usual. "I swear, you boys ask the stupidest questions."

On the tenth day, Julius was brave enough to mention that their food was running dangerously low, and they only had a few sticks of wood to burn. Jacko noticed it before but couldn't bring himself to speak of it. As it was, they were still trying to dig their way up and out, but there just didn't seem ever to be an end to the snow.

"How can we keep digging if we can't warm our hands?" asked Jacko.

"Here," said Uncle Bally, handing over his bottle of whiskey. "Normally, this isn't good in a survivalist situation, but since we've got plenty of water, it might be okay."

Jacko smelled the bottle. He didn't know what to think of the deep sugary, oak scent that came from it. All he knew was he was bored and anxious, so without thinking, he took a huge drink.

"Ahack!" he choked and sputtered, spittle rolling over his lips.

The brown confection steamed its way down the back of his throat and bled down his lungs. Warmth spread from his gut to his toes. Suddenly, his muscles relaxed as did his brain.

He sighed and settled back, feeling better than he had in days.

He passed the bottle to Julius who didn't seem bothered by the liquid heat as much.

"This is not good whiskey," he said.

"Well, excuse you, you ingrate!"

A few days later, when their stomachs were rumbling and their morale at an all-time low, they looked at their last pack of meat.

Just as he wondered who would starve to death first, there came a sifting sound, echoing from the tunnel.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

All three of them scrambled to the snow tunnel entrance.

"Maybe someone's found us?" said Julius. He didn't hesitate as he climbed into the tunnel and crawled out to the end.

Jacko and Bally watched him disappear into the white hole.

"See anything?" shouted Uncle Bally.

"No, whoever it is, they're digging hard and fast. I'm going to help from this end."

After fifteen minutes of listening to Julius pulling at the snow, Jacko and Uncle Bally returned to the fire where they made breakfast.

When the duck was done, Jacko put a couple pieces on Julius little silver plates.

"Julius," he screamed. "Breakfast is done."

"AAAAAAaggghhh!" he screamed.

Jacko and Uncle Bally jumped.

They ran to the tunnel.

"What's wrong?" asked Jacko.

"Julius, are you okay?" shouted Uncle Bally.

"Get away, get away..." was all they heard.

Uncle Bally heaved himself into the tunnel, and was about to crawl out to help Julius when a couple black-as-night things zoomed through the tunnel and into the cave.

"What the heck was that?"

He turned his head, trying to see what just past him.

"It's Larry and Joe!"

"What?" he asked incredulously, and backed out of the tunnel entrance.

"Did you see them?" cried Julius who just crawled out.

"Larry, Joe!" Uncle Bally exclaimed. "What in the world are you doing here? How did you find us?"

Their wings beat wildly as they stared down at them with their shiny black eyes.

"Why are you guys just standing there? We need to kill those things."

"No, don't hurt them. They're harmless," said Jacko. Then, feeling uneasy, he said, "Well, I'm so glad to see you guys, but you haven't betrayed us, have you?"

But the bat babies said nothing.

"Why are you talking to them? They're animals, and they've probably got rabies."

"They don't have rabies; they're fine."

Curious to see outside, Jacko climbed into the tunnel. Uncle Bally followed, but before he left, said, "Don't touch 'em."

They crawled out to the top of the snow.

"Oh my gosh!" Jacko's voice echoed back, as he clambered out of the hole. "I can't believe it! There's just no way."

Uncle Bally climbed out next, and did a 360 degree turn.

"This isn't good," he said.

Outside was nothing but a big white blanket. The sky was still a chilly blood red.

"Wow," said Julius, who'd come up from behind. "Look over there."

He pointed to the lower lands, where they came from. The ground was barely visible over the side of the mountain. It was covered in nothing but snow with not a tree or rock, or even the river, visible. From the sky, enormous balls of fiery snow spun wildly down. Circles of ash charred the ground, everywhere.

"It literally looks like we're in a freezing hell," said Julius.

Larry and Joe came out of the tunnel and suspended next to them.

"What are they?"

"This is Joe and Larry; they're my friends."

"But what are they?"

"They're bats."

"Don't look like any bats I've ever seen."

"They're friendly, so don't worry."

"Well," said Uncle Bally, "there's no way we can go anywhere in this weather. What we need to do is get bugged in. You guys get as much wood as you can. Larry, Joe, we're low on food. We're gonna need you to help us find some. Since you're small, maybe you can find food that we can't see."

Uncle Bally and the two bats traipsed off into the woods. Jacko and Julius went to gather as much wood as they could find.

Hours of foraging went by. They went off the trail into the parts of the woods where the trees were barely visible from their middles to their tops. They looked like little hats on the ground. Fortunately, it made gathering wood easy. The tops were fairly thin and required no climbing. Julius and Jacko just went around and sawed off as many tops as they could carry.

When they finally returned, it was to find Uncle Bally stuffing a charred out tree into the tunnel. He hung several birds from the branches; then he slipped inside and disappeared down into the ground. Jacko and Julius shimmied down after him.

Inside, a huge fire warmed the cave. In the corner lay a huge sack of apples, and on the fire, a number of fish smoldered.

"Looks like Joe and Larry's magic is still good here," whispered Uncle Bally.

"Well, that's good to know," he said, reaching for an apple.

Joe plucked a large duck while Larry removed pine needles from branches and set to making tea.

Over dinner, Joe and Larry bickered with each other by the fire. As usual, they had to battle Joe and Larry to keep them from eating all the meat. When Jacko tried to talk Larry into trying an olive, he hurled it at Joe, whom it struck in the eye.

"Wow," said Julius laughing. "They're quite a pair."

Looking like he'd had enough of Larry, Joe jumped on him, bowling him over, and socked him in the face.

"Okay, stop, you guys!"

Joe climbed off Larry. He held his eye, which, instead of swelling blue-black like a humans, turned very red.

For the first time since they'd been on the mountain, Jacko felt human, but then Uncle Bally said things that made him sad.

"You know, I feel sorry for even the poor birds that we hunted today. Joe and Larry knew where to find them, and when we did, it was such a sight. There they were all huddled in a thick log, looking miserable, trying to keep warm. Their eyes, the way looked at us; I actually felt like I had to save them. Of course, we're eating them, now, but my point is, you were right, Jacko. We gotta get this war stuff over and done with. We can't stay here and wait out this storm. What if it doesn't end?"

Jacko's face got extremely warm when he said this.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Uncle Bally handed him his whiskey. He took a long swig and swallowed back the urge cough.

The next morning, they woke to find the bats had gone.

"Where do you suppose they went?" asked Julius.

"Hopefully, to look for food," said Uncle Bally. "They love hunting; it's all they do."

But Jacko wasn't so sure. Truthfully, he was worried and Uncle Bally knew it, but they couldn't do anything about it.

When bat babies didn't return that day, Jacko knew he'd been betrayed. Every so often, he saw Uncle Bally watching him with a questioning look in his eyes. Jacko didn't know what to do or what to say, so he just looked away.

"Why are you guys so bummed out? They found you before, they might find you again."

Julius just didn't understand that if the bat babies disappeared like that, it could be for a serious reason. At that moment, they could be leading demons right to them.

Every day, Uncle Bally said they needed to get to the summit, but as the snow continued to pummel the ground, they just didn't see any way to make it happen. As it was, they'd all nearly been set aflame by the fiery snow, numerous times. The sky was nearly black all day, now, and more beams of light then ever zoomed across the sky. It just wasn't safe; they had no choice but to stay.

Several dusks later, their spirits at an all-time low and down to one duck, Jacko wanted to die. Uncle Bally and Julius looked just as misery stricken.

How long was this situation going to last? And as he sat there, thinking of Uncle Bally's story about the birds, and the world and what others might be going through, he said to himself that it was time that he go on and leave his uncle and friend behind. And maybe that was what was supposed to happen all along: maybe a warrior has to take the last steps of his journey on his own. As it was, Lucem said that he'd have to make a sacrifice in the end.

But Jacko didn't go. Every day, he sat, frozen, scared, and unable to move – unable to speak.

It was on a particularly damp evening when the ground trembled violently. Jacko looked at the entrance of the cave, wondering how deep they'd be buried this time.

"It's okay," said Uncle Bally. "We have enough wood to last awhile."

A moment later, their fear came true: the snow tumbled into the cave, snuffing out the entrance.

Just as Jacko felt he might go crazy with rage, the snow was brushed back by something large and white. The thing came back for a second and third swipe. He wasn't sure if he was seeing right but he thought it was a very large hand.

"Hello? Who's there?" called Uncle Bally.

A deep voice boomed through the cave, bouncing off the walls, and buzzing their ear drums.

"I can't come in. Your cave is too small. Can you come out?"

"We're not going anywhere. You'd better just move along," said his uncle.

A large black eye, the size of a beach ball, suddenly appeared at the entrance. The eye roved around, looked at the ceiling and walls, and then settled on them, sitting around the fire.

"AAAhhh!!" shrieked Julius.

"Shut up!" yelled Jacko.

Julius stood and shouted, "What heck is that?"

"Who are you?" asked Uncle Bally.

"I prefer to make your acquaintance face-to-face."

They all remained motionless, unsure of what to do.

"Well, are you gonna come and talk to me? Or do I have to reach in and drag you out?"

Suddenly, the man's large hand trash can lid sized hand slid through the hole, across the dirt and attempted to grab Jacko's leg.

"Alright, we'll come out," he shouted. "But you'd better not try anything."

Jacko pulled out a bow and arrow. Scared and somewhat reluctant – Uncle Bally with his gun at the ready, they went outside.

Standing before them was a twelve foot man with hair bushier than a pom pom, and a face more wrinkled than a shar pei. His features were so strangely arranged that he looked like another species of human altogether. The man's eyes were too low on his face, and his nose was extremely flat. He was completely naked, except for what looked like mint leaves that covered his privates. Even more amazing was the man had dug out all the snow around the cave entrance, and pushed it to the side, creating 8 foot walls. Looking up at the man who stood atop the snow walls made Jacko feel like a fish in a bowl.

"Who are you?"

His voice echoed off the snow walls.

"I'm Faunus. I've come to help you up the mountain. You're friends, Larry and Joe, came to me last night and said you needed my help. I guess they read about me as young imps, in the red lands. Normally, I'd never interfere with such business as yours, but the world is changing. It no longer supports a god of my nature. I, too, am headed to the mount for protection."

"It's too dangerous to go anywhere," said Uncle Bally.

"And it'll only get worse. Better to go now rather than wait. I can help you get to the summit, if you'll give me a chance."

When they said nothing, he added, "What choice have you got? Would you rather sleep in a bed and see the sun again, or would you rather stay here in this unnatural element?"

"How do we know that we can trust you?" asked Jacko.

"If you'd listened to your mother, you'd know I'm a god of the forest. Being that, I need nature to survive. If I need nature to survive, then I must be on your side of this war. Don't you think?"

Uncle Bally turned to Jacko with a look that said he didn't detect malice from the man in mint.

"How long do you think it'll take to get to the summit?" asked Uncle Bally.

"Four days."

"Well, we need a day to prepare for the trip. We're low on food and supplies. Also, we can't leave without Joe and Larry to confirm your story. Can you call them?"

"No, I won't call demons. Besides, it's night; it's not safe even for me to be out. I'll make camp. You'll decide if you're coming or not by morning; otherwise, I'll leave you behind."

"Agreed," said Jacko. "We're going back inside, now. Goodnight, Faunus."

"Why did you agree? He's insane. You're mad to consider traveling with that psycho. Did you see what he was wearing? And in this weather?"

"Julius," said Jacko as he plopped down in front of the fire. "We have no choice. We need to get out of here, and he seems to know where we're going."

"I think we should stay," he insisted. "What if we get stuck somewhere worse than this cave? At least we're warm in here."

Right as he said this, Larry and Joe flew into the cave, yammering at each other in high pitched voices. They slammed to the ground and rolled across the dirt as they tugged at something brown and hairy in their hands. After a second, Jacko realized they were fighting over a dead squirrel.

Suddenly, the bats zoomed back out of the cave. Jacko, Uncle Bally and Julius followed. They flew to the high end of a thick trunked tree, where Faunus was lying on an enormous branch, staring at the sky.

Faunus turned his head and watched Larry and Joe bicker back and forth, waving their black fists in the air. Instead of responding in English, Faunus spoke in the same dialect as the bats.

The bats seemed to respect Faunus, for they shook hands and zoomed back into the cave.

"Okay, we leave tomorrow, or as soon as we've got enough supplies for the trip," shouted Jacko.

"Agreed," he said.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Faunus turned his gaze to Julius.

A shadow fell across his face as his jaw slackened. Where only a moment ago, he looked merely strange, he now looked ferocious.

Julius took a step back.

"What's wrong?" asked Jacko, looking from Julius to Faunus.

Suddenly he said with coldness, "Nothing. We'll talk in the morning. Good night, humans."

Back inside the cave, Julius asked, "Did you see the way he looked at me? That monster of a man?"

"Shut your mouth," Jacko replied. "He can hear us."

Larry and Joe stood on Jacko's sleeping bag, skinning their squirrel.

"Hey, do that over there!"

He sat and exhaled.

"What do you think, Uncle Bally? Should we go or stay?"

"Well, it's like he said, 'what choice have we got?'" Uncle Bally swigged from his bottle. "This planet is dying. We need to get out of here before it's too late. We need to move before our last food source – animal - starts dying off, or worse, killing each other to survive."

~~~

The next day, the sound of something enormous breaking woke him.

Jacko opened his eyes and found he was alone. He put on his shoes, and forgetting that the snow was gone, almost fell to his knees as he reached out to climb into a tunnel that was no longer there.

Outside, Faunus managed an enormous fire. On one tiny end, the water can was steaming. He went over and poured himself a cup of dandelion coffee.

The sound of hacking came from behind. He turned to see Uncle Bally and Faunus working. Faunus was braiding twigs and branches into a mesh blanket. Uncle Bally chopped up wood, and placed them on the blanket.

He walked up to them and asked, "Isn't all that wood gonna slow us down?"

"Faunus says we should take it with us. The higher up, the harder it'll be to come by trees."

"What do you need me to do?"

Faunus set down the branches and set to showing him how to make snow shoes.

Watching Faunus work was incredible. His fingers were quick and detailed. But Jacko's jaw dropped when he pulled a tree right out of the ground, the sound of its roots snapping, and laid it down on the ground so Uncle Bally could keep chopping.

Around noon, Julius and the bats returned from hunting. Julius had a handful of pheasants, and Larry and Joe had a couple more squirrels. Immediately, they set to skinning and smoking their meat for the trip.

Overall, it was nice to be out and about, though his hands hurt from the braiding. They didn't break for lunch until it was nearly evening. Faunus fed the fire and watched as they stuffed themselves with hot bird.

"Where do you normally live?" asked Uncle Bally.

"Down below, in the garden."

"Why are you only making your way to the summit, now?"

"The garden has been my home for a long time. I wanted to hold out for as long as I could. Now, I see that things are going to be just as messy as the time before."

"What do you mean by time before? Surely, nothing like this has ever happened." asked Julius.

Again, Faunus looked at him with darkness in his eyes.

"Why do you look at me like that?"

"You don't belong here, boy, and you know it."

"What do you mean? I was invited, you vagrant!"

"Okay, I don't know what's going on with you, Faunus, but Julius is our friend."

He looked at Jacko piteously.

"Well, you should all rest early. Tomorrow will be a tough day, and we won't stop until the sky is like blood wine."

Then Faunus climbed up the tree and rested on the same branch with his face skyward. Larry and Joe flew up and landed on his calves and pigeon talked to him.

Jacko, Uncle Bally and Julius grabbed a couple lit logs and went back inside the cave.

"You know, I'm gonna miss this place," said Julius. "I'm especially gonna be disappointed if we get stuck somewhere when we could have been here."

"What difference does it make if either way we die? If we leave now, we still have a fighting chance."

They climbed into their sacks. Julius was out immediately. Uncle Bally watched him sleeping, as he took swigs from his whiskey. Almost as if sensing Jacko was watching him, his eyes flicked directly at his.

Jacko motioned at him with a wave of his hand, indicating that he understood what was going through his mind: Did Faunus know something about Julius?

~~~

The next morning, they ate a couple apples as they geared up, packed the last of their items and set off.

The weather was just as unforgiving as every other day on the mountain. Only this time, with bellies full and Faunus as their guide, the day seemed to progress faster. It was slow-going walking when they weren't sure of their direction, but with confidence – now that Faunus was there, they moved faster, covering twice as much mileage.

"Nice work!" said Uncle Bally.

It turned out the snow shoes he'd braided really did keep them from sinking.

"It's nice to take small, normal steps again," laughed Julius.

If only they had thought of it before, they might have made it to the summit already. Not having to dig ones legs out of the snow with each step was a saver on time and their strength.

Faunus walked far ahead of them, dragging the little mesh sack that was full of wood. But they didn't get lost because he was so big that his neck and shoulders was always visible from many feet away.

The snow fell lightly that morning, and gradually increased to blizzard status by twilight. But Faunus insisted they press on in spite of the biting cold until the last remnant of daylight was snuffed.

By the end of the day, they were sodden with muddy snow and had rashes on their face. Walking behind Faunus was torture, as each step he took splashed snow up from the ground. Each time he flicked his heel, they got a face full of ice shards stabbing their skin and eyes, and leaving behind the sting of dirt.

The bats tired of the trek after only a few hours of flight. Faunus was kind enough to allow them to rest on his big, bushy head as he walked.

Uncle Bally was worse for the wear. When they broke for lunch, Faunus whittled out a miniature sled on which he could sit as he dragged him up the incline with a harness he'd made the day before.

On the following evening, Faunus caused an avalanche when he used his hands to sweep a blanket of snow off a cliff. He grabbed Jacko and the others right as they almost got swept away. The snow gathered around his ankles, all the way up to thighs, making it so he couldn't move. He spent many hours into the night trying to dig himself out while Larry and Joe whizzed around his head, teasing him.

That night, the bats were kind enough to make dinner because they were dead tired, and Faunus ordered them to.

Still stuck in the snow, Uncle Bally shouted over the cliff, "Faunus, don't you ever eat?"

"Sometimes, but usually only for ceremonial reasons."

Jacko knew what he meant only too well, thinking back to his dinner in heaven.

They tried to get to sleep early but it was difficult with the loud sounds of Faunus still digging.

"Don't you have the power to move the snow?"

"You can't use magic on the mount; it's a holy place."

Right as he said this, the cliff trembled. Then all the snow around his legs cleared down and off the nearest peak.

At dawn, Jacko woke feeling rather well.

He rubbed his eyes and opened them. Uncle Bally and Julius were puttering about the fire. Faunus was standing dead still on the other end of the cliff.

There was a question that was nagging him. He slipped out of his bag and laced up his boots.

"Hey," he said, the snow crunching under his feet.

Larry and Joe sat on his head, bickering as usual.

Faunus didn't turn to face him but continued to stand there with his eyes closed.

"What is it you want?"

"You remember the last time this war was fought. Can you tell me what the last conjurer did to win? I mean it can't just be a final battle between me and a demon, can it?"

"I can't tell you. It's forbidden to interfere with fate by influencing it in any way. To do so could cost our side, greatly."

"Knowing what others did before might save my life, and put an end to this war now."

"What is your life compared to the Earth and the billion souls that inhabit it?"

Jacko said nothing.

"You've been told before, and I'll tell you, too: You'll know what to do when the time is right. You must do it on your own. I'm only here to help you get up the mount and nothing more. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like a few moments of peace."

After breakfast, they set off as usual. Uncle Bally seemed to enjoy the day much more, as he didn't have to walk. Faunus dragged him and the wood along as if they weighed nothing.

They stopped for lunch and then continued until the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The evening was so cold that no matter how hot Faunus made the fire, they couldn't get warm.

To help, Faunus placed large rocks in a ring around them. He promised to keep feeding the fire, as they slept through the night.

Jacko, Uncle Bally, Julius, Larry and Joe all huddled close together and to the fire. For the first few hours, they rested nicely, but about midnight, there was an earthquake, and the sound of a dozen sonic-like booms.

They sat up in their sacks, put on their shoes and exited their shelter.

Faunus stood on the edge of the cliff, looking down with a stone cold expression.

"They've begun taking over," he said.

They moved beside him and looked below.

"My lord," said Uncle Bally.

Below, down in the garden, a large fissure had formed in the ground; it went on for miles out of sight. Slowly, bubbling up from within the crack was a glowing reddish-orange liquid.

The magma continued to rise and bleed out over onto the snow. Trails of bubbles formed as it melted the snow and surface into its runniness. An impression of a trail was made as it melted down and traveled through the snow.

"Look over there," said Julius.

On the east side, trees were slowly deleveling, as their trunks were devoured by magma.

"Get your things, now," said Faunus. "We must get to the summit and we won't stop until we do. The end of the world is very near; it's no longer safe to be here."

They grabbed fire logs to help light the way. But Jacko was still worried that they could lose each other.

"Here," said Faunus, pulling out the harness he used to pull Uncle Bally. "Tie this around your waist. This way, we won't lose each other."

They did as he said.

As they walked along, Jacko couldn't help but look over the side, every so often. The magma was quickly spreading, taking out the entire garden. When he thought about all the animals and trees dying, he felt sick.

Suddenly, there was a large rolling earthquake. Part of the mountain base had collapsed. Magma rose up higher and higher. The smell of sulfur made it hard to breath.

Dawn never came, though by the time they decided to rest, it was noon. Temperatures leapt from freezing to nearly 100 degrees. They peeled off their clothes, and sat on the ground, wiping their sweaty faces. With every breath Jacko took, he tasted the sulfur in the air, making it hard not to drink all his water. His skin felt like salami.

Several hours later, they faced a rock incline that disappeared into the clouds. Jacko was grief stricken. He sunk to his knees and was despaired.

"How the hell are we gonna get up there?" asked Julius.

"You'll hold onto the harness I've prepared," said Faunus.

"It's not strong enough," said Uncle Bally, looking at the thin twine Faunus handed him.

"After millenniums of making harnesses, I think I know what I'm doing. I made the harness for this moment, because I knew none of you would ever make it. Now, tie it around your waists."

The harness was made of a dozen vines double braided. Every few feet, there was a reinforced loop. He selected the loop that would fit him perfectly, and pushed the knot of the harness through, and then tied it as securely as he could.

Faunus put the other ends of the harnesses in his mouth. Then, before Jacko could talk him out of it, he stuck his hands in a little crevice of the incline and pulled himself up.

"You can't be serious!" shouted Julius. "You can't carry us up by your teeth!"

But he was wrong. Faunus was strong and fast, as merely a moment later they were swinging from the vines hanging from Faunus' mouth. Larry and Joe stared down at them from Faunus' head.

Scared, Jacko closed his eyes and prayed that the climb was almost over. The longer they were suspended the more scared and frustrated he felt. Every so often, though he told himself not to, he opened his eyes and looked down.

An hour passed, and Faunus didn't slow one bit. Uncle Bally continuously drank whiskey with his eyes closed. Julius prayed under his breath.

"UUUUhhhhh!!!" Faunus' suddenly groaned.

"Are you okay?" asked Jacko.

"Don't talk to him!" shouted Julius. "What are you stupid?!"

Suddenly, the temperatures dropped. A dense cool air touched Jacko's skin. Feeling relieved, he opened his eyes once more and found that ceilinged right above Faunus head was a thick wall of cloud.

Faunus disappeared into the cloud. White enveloped their heads, moistening his skin and mouth as he breathed. In the cloud, it was so dark that he barely saw the others faces. Though the moisture felt good, Jacko's heart pounded. It was one thing to see the danger, but not to see it was even scarier.

"UUUUUUHHHH!!!"

The density of the wet mass made Jacko feel like he weighed 200 pounds. Faunus must have been affected, too, for he staggered, a bit, as he reached up to grab a bit of rock.

After a while, the shape of the mountain seemed to narrow from a wide cliff to a thin slope, making Jacko wonder if the rock could collapse.

Without warning, they fell several inches: the harness slipped through Faunus' teeth.

Just as Jacko thought it was over, that they were going to die, Faunus head disappeared, as did his shoulders and the rest of his body. It took a second for him to realize that Faunus was climbing them out of the cloud.

The pressure of gravity lightened, and it got a few degrees warmer. Then Jacko's head broke the last bit of the cloud layer, only to be blinded by bright yellow sunlight against bright blue sky.

Jacko crushed his eyelids shut. Not seeing blue sky in months had taken a toll on him. He wasn't used to the brightness.

Faunus groaned once more, but then he leaned forward, and as he did this, Jacko and the others slammed into the cliff. His entire front was dragged along the rock like cheese on a grater. He turned his head to avoid cutting his face.

Uncle Bally yelled, "Don't push away from the cliff; you'll only create more pressure on the harness and Faunus."

Then the intensity of their fronts being graded increased for a moment before they slid onto a smooth grassy plain.

They stopped moving. Jacko felt the cool grass on his skin and knew he lay on ground. He wanted to open his eyes, but the sky was too bright even with them shut.

Finally, after a few minutes, Uncle Bally said, "Okay, come on, let's open our eyes. We just need to deal with the pain and get moving."

Jacko groaned as he conceded. Slowly, he cracked his eyelids, but kept his field of vision directed at the green grass.

Peripherally, he saw up ahead, Faunus lying on the grass and breathing hard.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, I haven't worked that hard in centuries," he said.

After a few more minutes, Jacko's eyes throbbed less.

"Can you see this?" said Uncle Bally.

Slowly, he looked up. Uncle Bally pointed at the sky which, although blue, was surrounded with tinges of red.

"It's almost like we're in a bubble," said Julius.

"Faunus?" asked Uncle Bally.

"I need a moment."

Several miles of plush grass stretched before them. To the left, there were more cliffs, and to the right were tall, bushy trees. A bird flew in a circle above their tops, and then dived into their brush.

Larry and Joe floated in the air, looking at the white building snuggled between the cliffs and the woods. It looked similar to the Parthenon; it was rectangular, lined with columns and had a long stretch of stone steps.

"Faunus, do you know them?" asked Uncle Bally.

From the steps, three extremely large persons with long white hair and beards stood, looking right at them.

"What is this place?" asked Julius.

Faunus pushed himself up off the grass.

"Let's go," he said.
Summoning of the Gods
Chapter 10

Jacko had met several gods, most of whom were patient, wise and likeable. However, the gods of the summit looked like the sort his mother used to tell him about: mean, nasty, and probably hated half-breeds like Jacko. Even from afar, they seemed to look at him, Uncle Bally, and his imps as if they were a contagious fungus. Julius, they didn't even acknowledge.

They made their way across the lawn, and climbed the 100 or so steps up to the hall of the Parthenon-like structure that Faunus called the Temple of Jupiter. The three long haired men looked, scathingly, at them, as they walked by.

The steps of the building were made of some kind of mortar, as was the temple. Enormous rays of sunlight beamed down, through the columns, across the plain white floor. The ceilings were several stories high, and before them was a neverending hall of columns.

They continued in for a while until another white haired-long bearded man appeared. Faunus fell to his knees and bowed his head.

"I wasn't expecting you," he said.

His voice was basso profundo, and exceptionally loud, causing him to wince with each word he spoke.

"Yes, well, things are getting desperate. This is Jacko."

He stood and pushed him forward.

"You're small!"

Jacko shot his hands up to his ears. He didn't respond, for fear the god would talk more and shatter his ear drums.

The man stared a moment, taking him in and then spoke again.

"Welcome home, Faunus. We'll leave him to you."

And then he vanished.

"Where did he go? How did he do that?" asked Julius.

They walked back out of the hall. The three men still stared at them from the steps.

"This way," said Faunus.

He led them down the 100 steps, and right into the woods.

"How big is this summit?"

"The surface is fifty square miles. It's small but you'll have everything you need, here. You can hunt and fish, and the water is pure to drink."

The wooded area was an interesting mix of bushes and trees, evenly spaced out. Lots of light reached down from the sun, warming their skin. And every few feet, their leaves and bushes trembled.

"Are you sure we'd be welcome to hunt here?"

"Yes, why wouldn't you be?"

"Don't want some angry gods coming after us. What if we kill a sacred animal?"

"Don't be silly."

Faunus led them to a river spot with a dozen trees, from which hung half a dozen white hammocks.

He walked to the edge and looked down. The water ran, slowly, down grade; it was so clear that they could see salmon, on the very bottom, playing in it.

"You may stay here."

Then he turned to leave.

"That's it?" asked Julius.

"You have what you need. I must go, now."

Jacko ran to catch up to his side and shouted, "Faunus, I was told my family is here. How do I find them?"

"That's not my concern."

"Take me to someone who can help me, then."

"I can't. My part is done."

He vanished.

Jacko walked back to their spot by the river.

Larry and Joe were splashing in the water.

Julius, who was unpacking his bag, said, "Well, not that I'm ungrateful, but I thought we'd have beds and showers. You promised. Now, we're in the same situation as down in the garden. What happened to that sanctuary you described? You made it sound like a hotel."

Not sure of what to say, he turned his attention to Uncle Bally, who baited a line with a bird kidney, and tossed it in the stream.

Jacko got the magnesium block and started shaving it, when a spray of water covered his face and his pile of twigs.

"Look at this!" called Uncle Bally.

He wiped his face in time to see several shiny silver salmon leap out of the water. They landed on the ground with a light thud, and lay motionless.

"Well, I guess we don't need to worry about fishing."

He pulled up his line, threw away the kidney and set to fileting.

Jacko still couldn't use his powers to start fire, but with dry wood, it only took a moment to get blazed.

Dinner was especially enjoyable that evening. The salmon had the taste of the best King variety with the sweetest fatty skin that was too good to throw away.

Every so often the branches wavered, noisily, making them jump.

"What do you suppose that is?" asked Julius, who'd rolled out of his hammock and slammed flat on his face when his tree shivered, and he felt a cold draft pass right through him.

In heaven, it was common that multiple beings shared the same dwelling, though they couldn't see each other. It was possibly the same situation on the summit.

"No idea," said Jacko, and rolled over.

Night never came. The sky stayed bright blue over the next eight hours. When they woke, it was to the sound of trembling leaves.

"This is starting to freak me out," said Uncle Bally.

After breakfast, Jacko told them he was going to the temple.

Uncle Bally looked up from the wood bow he was carving.

"What for? They're a nasty sort; they don't like us. You should stay here."

"I agree with Bally. They're not gods, they're occultists. It's better you stay here. We're safe; we should stick together."

"Julius, they're not occultists. Haven't you noticed any of the strange things that have happened to you, or to us, in the last few weeks? Think about it. These people are not men, and you and I have things in common with them. That's why I invited you to come here."

"You know what? Forget it," he said, turning back to his bag.

"Okay, don't believe me, but those dreams you keep having should be your biggest clue that something else is going on here."

But he ignored him, and continued shuffling through his bag.

Uncle Bally shrugged his shoulders.

"Look, I don't think you should go back to the temple. Those men looked dangerous. Just like the bible warns of cruel angels, your mother said to beware of cruel gods. I think those who occupy this summit are the sort to avoid."

"You're right, Uncle Bally, but they're not allowed to touch me. It's been forbidden by the elder gods, so I'll be fine. Besides, I gotta find my family."

"They're not here!" He threw down his knife. "If they were, don't you think they would have found you? This place isn't that big!"

"You don't understand how things work, here, Uncle. Just because you can't see other beings, doesn't mean they're not here. Do you really think the constant quivering of branches and bushes are animals running to hide? They're not; they're other things that live here, too."

Uncle Bally fell silent and went back to whittling his bow.

He rose from his hammock, but before he walked off, said, "Time runs differently in places like this. I could be gone a few hours, or a few days. No matter what, don't come looking for me. Think of Alice in Wonderland: Wander down the wrong path, and you could end up somewhere else, and unable to get back; bump into the wrong god, and he or she might try to destroy you. They're indestructible, so you don't want to go against them. Do as Faunus said: hunt, if you must, but don't go looking for me, and don't go looking for trouble."

Then he left the woods.

Jacko stopped just short of the steps to the temple and waited to see if anyone would try to stop him. When nothing happened, he started his ascent.

Everything was the same as before, except instead of an endless corridor, there was a whirling cloud-tunnel several hundred feet in.

He stopped just inside the hall, turned around and looked for any indication of another route he could take. When he saw none, he kept moving toward the tunnel.

A great distance in, a man appeared, walking toward him. He, like the other men, had long white hair and a beard. Only, he had a serene look on his face. He put up his palm and said, "Stop. This is a temple for the servants of Jupiter. You're not supposed to be here."

"I'm not leaving until I see my family. I was told they're here."

He stepped out of the tunnel into the hall.

"And it's true. You'll see them again, but not now. Go."

He flicked his arm toward the entrance.

"I'm not going anywhere until you take me to them."

The white hair god looked like he was about to argue, but then fell silent. His eyes lifted to a spot just above his head. Jacko knew he was probably communicating with someone. Then he said, "I've been ordered to take you to them. Come with me."

Just as the man turned, the tunnel started to spin.

"Don't be afraid," he said, and stepped in. "It's just preparing itself for where we want to go.

Slowly, he put one foot forward, and when he felt it was steady, continued in.

With strides ten times larger than Jacko, the man had already gotten far ahead of him. He ran fast to catch up.

In Silence, they walked for fifteen minutes before he asked, "What is this thing?"

"It's like a worm hole, only smaller and less harmful."

"Who are you?"

"I'm a servant of Jupiter. I don't have a name."

"How does that work? What if someone has need of you, specifically?"

"We're all the same."

"Well, you seem nicer than the others. That's not the same."

Then like a fork in the road, so did the tunnel. He followed the man right, and at the end of that tunnel was a double fork; they took the second tunnel to the left.

They fell silent again.

A short while later, a white walled room appeared some feet ahead. It had the same cotton looking substance for walls, like when Jacko was with Aurora.

All was still and there were no furnishings; nothing except limestone statues along the right side.

"Where are we?"

"The stone rooms; as you see, they're fine. Now, we must go."

He turned to leave.

"Wait! What are you talking about? Where is my family?"

He extended his arm toward the right side of the room. It took a second for him to realize that each of the stone statues had distinguishable features. They were placed in order from shortest to tallest, beginning with his youngest sister, little Forsi, and ending with the tallest, his brother, Machine. In between, he got choked up at the sight of the others: Grill, Bouncy, Bull, Brain and Truth. All the boys were named after their father, Manlo, but had nicknames that distinguished them according to their characteristics. Then Alica and Bordra, and Dienla and Anle; seeing them that way made him livid.

"What is this?"

His voice echoed off the walls.

"No need to get upset; they're fine."

"They're not fine! You fix them, now!"

"You're the only exception, and it's only because of the end of times war; otherwise, we don't allow humans here, no matter how much godly blood runs in their veins. We could only bring them after stoning them, lest they defile our halls."

"I don't understand. Oganat showed them to me; they were playing games, running through gardens and stuff."

"Yes, but in their minds."

"I don't understand why you did this! It's disgusting!"

"It was done to ensure that you play your part, and so far it's worked. If we'd left you with them, you'd have gone home and forgotten your role in this war."

"This isn't right!"

"Who're you to tell us what's right, boy!"

His face marble face turned a violent red, like a mood ring across a shiny surface.

"Send them out into the forest with me, but turn them back, now!"

He took a few steps closer to the tall god.

It made him even crazier, knowing he was unmoved by his anger. The servant didn't take him seriously. He drew back his fist, but when he extended it, it was into air.

He'd disappeared.

"Jacko," said a softer voice from behind.

There, with long ringlets, stood Lucem's mother.

"Aurora, can you fix this?"

"No, I can't but they're not dead. Once you've played your part, they'll either be returned to Earth, or sent to the fountain."

He was about to scream at her, but she said, "Calm yourself. There is nothing you can do about this. You will continue, and if you do well, they'll be fine."

"What if I don't?"

"In the end, you'll have no choice."

"Then why do this to them?"

"Because it's motivated you to work hard, thus far, and it's prepared you for the final battle. You don't realize it, but you've come very far. You're stronger than you even realize."

He breathed heavily.

"What is my part? What do I need to do to get this war over and done?"

"You'll know when the time is right."

"I'm sick of hearing that! Why won't Lucem tell me what it is I'm supposed to do? If it's so important that I carry out his legacy, why doesn't he at least talk to me, the way he did the first conjurer?"

"Is that what you think? That you're fighting for him?"

"Well, that's what everyone has, basically, said."

"Lucem comes from me, and it was my legacy he carried out for many millenniums, before the first conjurer. And now, there is you. It's my legacy that you strive to fulfill, not his."

Jacko said nothing.

"I started saving the world, and every millennium, he sends forth a piece of his goodness to continue my work. He is my legacy, as are you. We gave this to you – to man – because it's your home, and you need to fight for it. For some reason, every conjurer – every millennium – has been just as stubborn and reluctant to accept that, just like you've been. But we'd rather make you fight then lose this planet to the demons. Can you blame us? Look what they've done to this Earth, so far? Red skies, red sulfur rivers, ash instead of earth. No more flowers and no more laughter, only black demons hunting."

She paused a moment.

"I'm sorry, but you will do as you were meant, and that's all there is to it. If you care so much, you'll work hard and fight until you've either won, or you're dead, as a real warrior and a real hero, would do."

Jacko had never felt such a strong mix of emotions. Humbled and on the verge of tears, hatred for Aurora and Lucem, yet understanding and acceptance of what he must do. Desperation that he must save his family now, yet knowing he must obey the gods and wait. It was all too much.

"You're the symbol of the ending of an era, and the beginning of a new. I'm the dawn, and I'm with you always, changing the future, lighting the way."

"Where's my father - Manlo, and Althenio?"

"Althenio raised Manlo from a boy, two centuries ago. He's the one who took Manlo to heaven."

"He left his children and went to heaven? I don't believe it."

"Manlo understands you cannot disobey the gods. It's what we want, and that's all there is to it. The only reason he got to go is because Althenio has special rank."

The more she spoke, the angrier he got.

"I need to get out of here?"

"This way."

She stepped into the tunnel; Jacko followed.

"If our side wins, will everything return to normal? All the land and animals, and everything that died, will it all go back to the way it was before?"

"Most everything will, but there will be some things that are just lost."

"Like what?"

"Any animal – human or otherwise - that didn't die at the hands of a demon or god will likely return to the fountain. Those killed by one of us will return to Earth."

"Where's Lucem?"

"I don't know."

Up ahead, the columns of the temple came into sight. Lining the hall was hundreds of white haired men in robes, all bowing and kneeling. Their actions reminded Jacko that Aurora, too, was an elder.

They stepped out of the tunnel and into the hall.

"Will I see you again?"

The faintest smile pulled the corner of her radiant mouth.

"Yes, but not in this lifetime. However, you'll feel me with you always. I'll never abandon you, spiritually, and I'll be watching you from the stars, so will Lucem."

And then she disappeared. The tunnel vanished, too.

The gods remained in bowed positions as he exited the hall.

~~~

Back at camp, Uncle Bally, who was not normally an affectionate kind, was overly joyed to see him back.

He jumped up and pulled him into a death embrace. When Jacko's eyes started rolling into his head, he let him up and told him he'd been gone about 48 hours: that despite Jacko's warning, he'd been worried ill.

To him, it felt more like a few hours.

Larry and Joe whizzed around him, pelting chestnuts at his head. He supposed that was their way of saying they were happy to see him. When they got him right between the eyes, he shouted, "Stop it, now!"

Julius, on the other hand, had a strange look about him. There was a deep cut on his cheek that hadn't fully scabbed over.

"Hi, Julius."

But he remained silent.

"What happened to your cheek?"

He looked away.

"You hungry?"

Uncle Bally picked up a basket of cherries and handed it to him.

"I'm starving and exhausted!"

"Well, lay back and nap. I was just about to pluck this peacock. Julius, get the fire going."

As he went to get some wood from the pile, Jacko was flashed in the eye by a glint that came from something shiny poking out of the collar of his shirt. Whatever it was, it was a deep, dark green color.

"What's that around your neck?"

"Nothing. Something my mother gave me," he mumbled.

"So did you find your brothers and sisters?"

"Yes, sort of. I'd rather not talk about it."

He gave his uncle a look that said "later."

"Okay, some other time."

The next day, Jacko went looking for bird eggs when he spotted some paw prints in the bushes and decided to go hunting.

"Great idea, kid! Hopefully, we'll be eating juicy suckling pig or even chewy gamy venison. You know, I'm gonna come with you. You couldn't tell what kind of prints they were, and I'm sick of fowl!"

Jacko picked up his bow and arrows while Uncle Bally grabbed his rifle. Julius barely said goodbye to them, as they left.

"What's wrong with Julius?"

"He had another dream. Neither his mother nor his brother survived."

"What?"

"She found his brother, but then there was a tsunami: they drowned."

"That's awful," he said, remembering what Aurora told him.

He pointed to the bushes where he found the paw prints.

Uncle Bally knelt.

"What do you think?"

"Well, it's probably a young one, but I think it's a deer! Judging by the moisture in the print, and how everything else is dry, I'm guessing it's a doe. You see, she pees and the buck comes and sniffs. Sometimes, they might repeat this process, and then he'll track her down. I don't care what, I'm gonna have me some real meat. Since I'm the better hunter, here's what we're gonna do: You're gonna wait there."

He pointed to a tree several feet across from where they stood.

"I'm gonna track the doe. Stay still and quiet. If the buck or doe comes back, and you get it, we'll be set."

Then he walked off along the path while Jacko went to hide in the trees.

He pulled a rock out of the dirt and turned it over to make a flat surface to sit on.

An hour passed.

He'd nodded off.

There was a light crunching noise.

He jolted upright.

As quietly as possible, he rose and walked up to the tree trunk: it was the buck. He launched an arrow on his bow and took aim, but he didn't release.

The buck seemed to be looking right at him. For a moment, he felt as if it knew him, and wanted to talk.

The animal drew closer, its head crooked upward, keeping its shiny black eye on him. Then a terrible hacking noise came from it; its mouth contorted as the sounds bellowed out. The sound was like the time his dog threw up grass in the living room, but not before heaving loudly for a few minutes.

Frightened, Jacko took a step back.

Suddenly, it bent its head down to the ground, still hacking, and a little thud noise sounded.

The deer bounced off into the bushes.

He didn't bother trying to chase it, for what it left behind had caught his eye.

A matte yellow gold ring lay on the ground. He knelt to get a closer look.

A smooth red jewel shined from the top.

Despite his disgust of what just happened, he picked up the ring and held it close to his eyes. A voice whispered to him; it said, put it on.

The chunky, lightly weighted band fit nicely on his right hand, middle finger. A feeling of confidence and know-how washed over him. It was almost like he could do anything, and learn anything.

Something seemed to move beneath the stone's surface. A white light within that turned over, repeatedly, sending out beams the way a star or a street lamp does.

He flinched at the sounds of footfalls.

"Jacko?" called Uncle Bally.

He walked into the clearing.

"Look what I got!"

Draped over his shoulder was a nearly grown doe.

"It's gonna be tender!" He grinned. "What's that you got on your finger?"

~~~

Back at camp, Julius hitched on a smile, yet sadness still emanated from his eyes.

Jacko tried to be extra kind to him. Somehow, he couldn't help but feel partly responsible for what happened to his family. If he could, he'd end it all; the war and send the gods and demons packing, and then put everything back the way it was.

Immediately, Julius noticed the ring on Jacko's finger. He said nothing, however, and asked not a single question. Throughout the evening, he shot Jacko and the ring glances.

He could hardly keep his own eyes of his finger. The stone bothered him. It reminded him of something; tried to drag a distant memory from somewhere.

Uncle Bally was too thrilled to notice their preoccupation. After preparing the deer, he filled a large tree bark he'd whittled into a pot, with water from the river; then he set it to boil with several large pieces of deer meat and chunks of fat. Next he hacked off the remaining bits of meat, slid them onto wood skewers and draped them across a stand he'd made.

Uncle Bally cooked the meat well into the night. He wrapped the leftovers in leaves he'd gathered, and then stowed them in his bag.

The smoke of the meat was just as good as the taste of venison.

After a while, though, it started to bother his eyes and sinuses. He laid back and shut his eyes, trying to ignore the irritation.

Heaviness weighed down on his chest as he lay there, breathing shallow so as not to pull too much smoke into his lungs.

Once, his mother told him the story of Heraclea. She was given a ruby that shined so bright that she'd use it to light her room in the evening. The ruby was said to empower its wearer, making one's ineptitudes vanish.

Something long and yellow pecked at his ankle.

He opened his eyes and saw that it was the beak of a stork.

He breathed in, sharply, as he realized that he no longer lay in his hammock. He looked at the sky and saw that it was wine colored once again.

All around him was black soil for miles. He turned around, looking for the mountain, thinking he needed to get back to his Uncle, and back to the summit.

He stopped. A few miles out, someone in a black hooded cape rode toward him, on a horse. He heard the galloping of its hoofs on the wind.

Inwardly, he told himself to run, to get back to the summit. He couldn't, though; he just stood there and watched the person get closer.

The horse slid to a stop, spraying up dirt at him. He climbed off the horse. As he did so, his cloak flapped, revealing a black shiny armor that looked like painted metal, only it fit his torso too perfectly, melding against his skin and emphasizing every lean and oversized muscle he had.

The man stood ten feet tall. Around his waist was a silver belt from which hung a matching sword. The man set down a bag that was similar to Jacko's cunnan, only it held silver arrows, and a bow to match.

He drew the sword long and slow, and stood there facing him, waiting. Jacko tried to see his face, but the hood fell too low. He knew the guy wanted to fight, but Jacko didn't have his sword.

However, the man didn't care. He raised the sword skyward and held it there a moment. Jacko should have been scared but he wasn't because this was all so familiar. He knew what the man planned to do, and Jacko knew just how to counteract.

The sword flung down at him.

Jacko merely side stepped.

It was an effortless strike, and he knew it. He raised the sword again, only he flung it down, faster. Jacko side stepped again, only faster, too.

Next moment, the guy was flinging the sword left and right, almost like figure eights from the left side of his body to his right, over and over.

Jacko moved just as quickly, like a weaving boxer, stepping right, and then left, repeatedly. Fluidly, they moved together, almost like a dance.

This went on and on, and Jacko knew he mustn't tire of it, or he'd be sliced.

Finally, the man stopped, only to lunge at him, repeatedly with a full body front thrust. He poked forward at his head, neck, shoulder-to-shoulder, chest and gut.

Jacko found it especially difficult to dodge his attempts. He knew it'd be easier to thwart him, with his sword.

Suddenly, it appeared. He held it with the tip pointed skyward, and thrust it, forcefully, left to right, and up to down. Together, they made a zig zag motion up and down his body.

After a while, the motion exhausted him, so as he countered the next strike, he spun around and pushed the man in the back, making him fall to his knees.

His eyes flipped open once again. He was looking at the blue sky through brown branches.

Uncle Bally was still smoking venison.

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair, trying to make sense of the dream. It felt almost as if he'd astral projected in his sleep again, only different.

Uncle Bally was snoozing on his hammock. The metal can was steaming.

"Uncle Bally," he said softly.

"Hmm?"

"Got enough tea for me?"

"Surely."

He sat up and poured them.

As he stared into the flames, while sipping, it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't touched his sword in weeks.

He went to his bag and pulled it out. As he did this, a shock traveled up his arm. Once more, thoughts, like memories, tugged at his mind, but he couldn't quite pull them to the fore of his brain so he could view them.

~~~

After a bit of scrambled pheasant eggs and salmon roe, Jacko decided to go foraging. A strong scent of citrus had been washing over their camp for a few days, now.

Uncle Bally and the bats were off hunting, and Julius had gone off without a word.

He knew there were, likely, hundreds of other beings there on the summit, but it felt almost like they were alone. Not once, did Jacko or the others meet another individual in the woods.

The sound of running water came from some feet ahead. He followed it to a dirt basin with a rock cliff. From the cliff water fell through a fissure, like a small waterfall. Julius was sitting on the edge, staring thoughtfully into space.

"Hey, Julius."

He flinched.

Jacko sat next to him and watched the water tumble down.

"You know I can't believe that this is it," said Julius. "I mean, we just climbed a mountain to escape the fissures. Will we never be able to return to civilization? Or is this the final end? Are we the last people on Earth? And if so, are we stuck on this mountain."

"Things could be a lot worse. We have food, water, and we're safe. Try to look on the up side."

"There is no upside, if this is it every day for the next fifty years. We come from a time where every day is filled with purpose, and now we have none. Doesn't that bother you, at all?"

"Well, no."

"How could that be? Why are you okay with that? You went to find your family, and you didn't, I'm assuming by the lame response you gave, yesterday. Don't you care at all?"

Jacko fell into contemplation for a moment.

"Julius, there are some things you should know. We didn't tell you because you wouldn't believe us. You probably still won't, but I'm gonna try anyway. The truth is Faunus really is a god, just like in the legends."

"Oh, Jacko..."

He turned back to the water fall.

"And this is the real Mount Olympus as you've probably read about. The reason the world is a disaster is because the gods – Olympians, Titans, demons, and angels – are having a war. When we happened upon you in the Garden of Hera, we were on our way here because we knew it was the only safe place."

"Jacko, please. I'm being serious."

"I think, in some way, you're a part of this war. The dreams you keep having. They mean something, don't they?"

But Julius had done. He got up and left without a goodbye.

He sighed loudly. Then he got up and continued his search for oranges.

A few minutes of walking and he approached another cliff. On the end, he could see most clearly the reddish outline of the sky outside the summit.

He got closer to the edge and looked down. Below was covered in cooling lava and ashy silt that stretch for miles until it touched the sky.

If he was to suffer, to be beaten so severely, like the first conjurer, than why was he there, safe, fed and well. How much more of this were the gods going to allow?

Then across the sky, he saw dark shadowy circles flit about, followed by light white-ish ones. They danced around each other as they fell to the ground.

More and more shadows came, like rain. Some black danced with white while some white danced with white, and occasionally, black with black.

Jacko's heart sped, as it could only mean one thing.

The cliff rumbled violently.

Blasts sounded across the sky. White flashes of light flashed and died, repeatedly.

He backed away from the edge into a tree, rapping his head violently.

A dozen items flew down, bouncing off his head, hurting him more. He looked up and saw it was a tree loaded with oranges and orange blossoms.

He picked up as much as he could and returned to camp.
Meeting of the Two
Chapter 11

The ground didn't stop trembling all the way back to camp. Funny how he'd pleaded to get his part over with, and now that he was close to the action, he was scared.

Uncle Bally and the bats were already back from hunting. Julius was still gone. The bats were suspended over the river, looking at the sky which had become even more blotted with dancing shadows. The war was not only in space, but had reached Earth.

Uncle Bally, who stood at the edge of the river, turned at his approach.

"Did you see the skies?"

The panic soaked his voice like water on a tissue. His eyes were bugged out and his brow furrowed into his head, creating extra lines in his forehead.

"Yes. Try to stay calm because Julius will freak out."

He dropped the oranges next to the cherries.

"Are we safe?"

"I don't know. I mean, I think so, as long as the gods can hold them off."

"Well," he said in a tone much higher than his normal voice. "I guess it makes sense. This is an important place; they want to conquer it."

Jacko's stomach lurched.

"What do you think?"

"I wish I had an answer but I don't. The gods told me I'd know what to do when the time was right. But I don't know what to do. I have no instinct. I could fight, and probably do real well, maybe even kill a lot of demons, but I don't think that's what the gods want of me."

"Yeah, I'm not saying go out there and face them," he said more calmly. "What we need is a plan of escape. They will make it into this bubble of a summit."

"I think the only safe place for you is heaven, but I don't have the power to send you there because of the summit."

"You keep saying send 'you.' You have to come with us."

"I can't, Uncle. Where ever I go, danger will follow. I can't hide from gods. They're always watching."

The cliff shifted so violently that, both, Uncle Bally and Jacko rolled across the ground. Jacko grabbed onto the tree trunk he'd rolled into and held on tight.

"Now, the only problem is getting you off this mountain. My powers don't work here, so I'm going back to the temple."

His knees threatened to buckle as he stood up on the trembling ground.

"Just hold on!" he shouted.

As he ran through the woods, all the trees and bushes shivered and trembled. He knew it wasn't just the fighting, but the beings that lived there.

Suddenly, gods appeared everywhere.

He exited the woods and saw hundreds of white haired men standing about, watching the sky silently.

He ran up the steps, past them, and into the hall.

More gods stood idly about.

The white tunnel, from before, was open and spinning dizzyingly fast. Large sized men were walking toward the exit: one, a familiar brown haired man in a toga.

"Althenio!"

"Jacko."

He was just as he remembered, with skin as hard and shiny as alabaster, and onyx-like eyes to contrast.

"What are you doing here?"

"Manlo begged me to come."

"Please, you gotta help me. My powers don't work here, and the demons are close to taking the summit. I need to get my uncle and my friends someplace safe."

"Yes, I know. Manlo begged me to help you. Get him, and your things, and come back. But Jacko, Julius can't come."

"What?"

"He's not who you think he is."

"Yes, I know you hate us, humans, but he's my friend. He's coming too!"

An enormous bluish beam of light flew through the air.

Althenio picked Jacko up, by the collar, and ran out of the hall. When the light beam struck the temple, heat burst out in a shower of bright flames. He covered his eyes to avoid getting hit.

Next moment, he opened his eyes. The entire set of steps and the front of the temple was blown out. White haired gods lay everywhere, bloodied and unconscious.

"You haven't time to waste. Now, go. I must wait here."

Jacko ran back down the steps and back to camp.

When he got there, Uncle Bally was missing, and so were the bats.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a red jet coming toward him. He jumped out of the camp just missing getting hit by a few feet.

When the ground stopped rumbling enough so that he could push himself up, he ran through the forest, trying to find any sign of where they might have went.

"Uncle Bally?!" he shouted.

But the ground was so torn up that it was hard to use the skills, he'd taught him, about tracking.

Eventually, he found himself back at the campsite when he noticed that a cluster of leaves were crunched into halves, almost as if someone grabbed it with their fist.

"Uncle Bally!" he said to himself.

Beneath the crunched leaves, he saw drag marks.

From there, it was easy. He tracked a random trail of crushed leaves on broken branches, and drag marks, back to the basin he'd visited Julius at earlier.

There, on the edge of the rocks, was Uncle Bally, tied up. Next to him lay the grand ornamentum.

On the dirt next to the rocks, lumps bounced around inside a brown sack. Jacko knew the bats were there.

Uncle Bally looked up and slightly shook his head, telling him to go away.

Jacko didn't listen, and ran into the clearing.

Julius was leaning on a tree, swinging Jacko's sword.

"What are you doing, Julius?"

He flinched.

"What I'm supposed to. I have to save my family."

"What?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. You were right all along; I just didn't want to admit it, but then a man came to me in my dreams. He warned me that they'd be coming down from the sky. Now, they are," he said, rolling his eyes upward.

"Men have come to me in my dreams, too. That's why I invited you, because I knew you were like me."

"I'm not like you, not at all."

He resumed to swinging the sword, side-to-side.

"Whatever, Julius. Point is the gods are doing this to us. Look, we can talk about this later. Right now, we need to get off this summit."

"We can't because we're natural enemies. I like you and your Uncle, but demon blood runs in my veins."

"The man in your dreams told you that?" Jacko asked weakly.

Months ago, Lucem told him there was a young demon – his opposite – destined to fight the final battle over Earth. Even though he knew that other forms of life had bread into humanity, like the gods and angels, it still never occurred to him that the demon might be human. Now that he thought about it, it made sense.

"Unlike my demon family, I feel sympathy; they warned that it would cripple me. I want you to know that this doesn't come easy for me. Like you, I had a rough life, a father who didn't care, a mother who did everything to protect me and was still lost. Then I found my real family, and it was nice to be a part of something that was like love."

"Demons don't love the way humans do, and you're more human than demon. You may think they care for you but they'll betray you. Come over to our side. You'll be rewarded, I promise."

"Come over to your side and what? Be recycled back into the fountain of youth? While my family goes into the volcano of life, and us never to meet again? Would you make that deal?"

"You'll meet again, if you want."

"Yes, in hell, but I want this world. I want Earth."

"What does it matter?" asked Jacko. "You, me, our family; once we go through the fountain or the volcano, we won't remember each other anyway. We'll be starting all over again."

"That doesn't work for me. I want what I want, and I want it, now."

He lunged at Jacko, he darted back.

"That's hardly fair. You're using my weapon."

"I believe in fair fight. You're way stronger than me, so this is fair."

He swiped down and left; Jacko bobbed and weaved right.

"I know someone's been visiting your dreams, and teaching you to fight. Someone visited me, too, only I sucked at it."

He swiped down and right, missing him by seconds.

"Sword fighting isn't a demon's way. We use real weapons, like tridents, but since I haven't earned mine, as you've earned your sword, I figured why not take yours. See how you do without it."

Julius stabbed forward at his shoulder. Jacko spun around, like in his dream, and pushed him to the ground.

He fell to his knees. Jacko jumped on his back and tried to wrestle the sword from his hand. Julius was much stronger than he let on, for he bucked Jacko, who flew many feet back, and stumbled to the ground.

Julius stood above him with sword raised high. Just as he was about to bring it down, a boot kicked him in the side, making him stumble.

Uncle Bally and the bats had gotten out of their bondage. He, now, stood with his rifle pointed at Julius.

"Drop it, son!" he shouted.

Jacko got up, quickly, and ran to get his bow and arrow, because if Julius was who he said he was, the war would end with his death.

Right as he picked up the bow, a shot exploded. He spun around.

Julius was fine. He held the sword upward. A little ding was in the blade. A look of surprise was in his eyes.

Uncle Bally shot again.

Quicker than he could see, Julius moved the sword lower, to his belly, and blocked the bullet, which ricocheted off and into a tree.

Jacko hurried to ready an arrow when he stabbed the sword, quickly, into his uncle's gut.

Uncle Bally didn't even see it coming.

He fell to the ground.

Jacko should have released the arrow, but seeing his uncle get a deadly blow stunned him for a moment. A ringing deafened his ears; a buzzing covered his entire body. His hands shook with rage.

He released the arrow, but missed.

Julius looked at Jacko.

A buzzing sensation ran all over his body again; his arms and legs shook. He looked at his hand and saw that it glowed white. Around his hand, he saw particles moving within and without his skin.

Instinct, or a distant memory, told him what to do next. He raised his glowing hand to the sky and called electrons, and told them to obey him.

Next second, lightning came from the sky. Julius ducked just as it tried to strike him. The ground blew out, covering him in dirt.

"Did you do that?" he shrieked. "They told me you were strong. Well, be ready, because it's time for me to train. I will see you again!"

He took off running.

Jacko followed him out of basin area, through trembling bushes, and past the orange trees.

He sent several arrows off, all of which missed. Julius was simply too fast.

Then he jumped off the cliff.

Jacko looked over the side, and sent a slew of arrows at him, all of which scattered aimlessly down.

He couldn't believe what just happened. Motionless, he stood, staring down as Julius plummeted to the ground, yet disappeared right as he was about to make impact. Then he reminded himself he didn't have time to think; he needed to get to his uncle.

Back at the basin, the bats were standing by his head cooing.

Jacko fell to the ground.

"I'm so sorry, Uncle. I should have known," he cried.

"How were you to know when not even I could tell he was scum. Don't blame yourself, he was good, before. Something happened to him when we got here; that something turned him. We suspected something was wrong, but we trusted him because he was our friend."

He coughed up a mass of blood.

Jacko couldn't hold back the flood in his eyes.

"Don't cry, now, it's time to be a man."

"I can't help it. I keep losing everyone."

"Losing people's a part of war."

"I'll never trust anyone, never again."

"Don't say that. You can't shut people out; you can't go it alone. No one can. Just be more careful, next time. But don't think for one moment that you can do this alone. I don't care what the gods tell you."

Then he had a flash back to when his mother visited him, back in Mariton.

"Actually, I think I can save you. I just need a moment. Watch him," he said to the imps.

As fast as he could, he pounded the dirt back to where their camp used to be. But it was so messed up that he couldn't find his bag. He needed to hurry!

He tossed up some fallen trees, and when he found nothing, began digging through the pile of dirt that was now where he used to sleep.

A few minutes later, he pulled the strap of his bag from out of the dirt. He tugged and tugged, slowly dragging it through the compounded earth.

Once he pulled it out, he opened the flap and dug through, tossing everything out.

There they were: the figs his mother gave him.

The figs, she told him, were a symbol of life. Commonly mistaken for fruit, the edible fig was really the female counterpart of the male fig tree, and its "fruit" was really an inverted flower.

In the old days, and even in heaven, the golden fig orchard was what kept the circle of energy that supported life, running like an engine. Not only did the orchard give blessings, but its golden fruit could preserve life.

Fast enough to give himself a stich, he pelted back to Uncle Bally, who had passed out.

No time to waste. He ripped one of the figs a part, pried open Uncle Bally's mouth, smeared the flower inside and waited a minute.

Nothing happened. Uncle Bally remained still.

He shook him, but he didn't respond.

Just as he was about to open another fig, Uncle Bally quivered and turned dark brown.

Suddenly, his body started to transform.

The bats flew back out of the way.

His body elongated, and then contorted skyward. Little brown striations, sort of like a prune, etched themselves in his skin.

As this went on, he looked more and more like the trunk of a tree.

Jacko thought he'd be sick.

Branches extended outward with leaves, and heavily with figs.

The ground rumbled as roots grew out its side and jammed their way down into the ground.

Jacko cried.
The Sacrifice
Chapter 12

His spiritual father appeared behind him. Jacko felt his presence without having to look and see.

"Can you bring him back?"

He struggled to get the words out because his throat was too tight.

"No, sorry, Jacko."

"What about when this is over? I mean, he was killed by a demon, one of us, like Aurora said."

"I'm afraid it's too late."

"I don't get it; I thought the figs would preserve him."

"The figs, your mother gave you, are from the same orchard that you and I visited. While they bestow power on the living, they plant the dead. This is your sacrifice."

"You mean, he was already dead? And I missed him die?"

He didn't respond.

"Is he in the fountain?"

"That's where all souls go, but you'll see him again. Just not in this lifetime."

Jacko didn't know how to respond, so his father continued, "In the meantime, be happy that his life meant something."

"What does that mean, Lucem?!" he asked through clenched teeth.

"This is the sacrifice you were to make."

"Why him? He has nothing to do with this war! He should have died an old man in a bomb shelter, not like this."

"On the contrary, he has everything to do with this war. He always has."

Jacko turned to look at him.

"We keep telling you; we've all been here before. Your mother told you that when the martyrs cease to be reborn, the Earth is no longer saved. He must go on!"

But Jacko shook his head, vigorously, because he didn't care.

"He's saved the world before. He's right where he's supposed to be, right now. That part is over and now it's your turn."

"Why is that?"

But Lucem didn't have time to answer because a succession of blasts came, ending in one so violent that the next thing he knew, he was falling.

~~~

He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. Something painfully heavy pinned him down. He tried to lift his arms and his legs, but they didn't obey.

Something painfully pressed into his gut and lungs. Though he tried to inhale, his chest only barely pushed up against something crushing his chest in.

Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. His heart sped out of control. He tried scream, but couldn't because his lungs were crushed.

He blacked out.

~~~

The sound of shifting rock woke him.

Immediately, he felt relief of the impression on his chest.

Happiness filled him; he wasn't dead. If only whoever was moving the rock would hurry. He couldn't stand being buried another minute.

The shifting continued; the sound of moving dirt and rock got louder until light reached through the mass that covered him, and bled through his eyelids.

He opened his eyes and saw, through a large partition of dirt and rock, the wine colored sky.

Come on! he said to himself, and pushed hard against the rubble.

Finally, he emerged and breathed a happy lungful of fresh air, only to go into hyperventilation upon looking around.

There, he knelt at the top of a pile of debris that was the size of a mountain. Realizing this, and wondering where all of it came from, he suddenly remembered that he was on the summit.

Gingerly, he walked to the edge of the rubble.

Down below, demons and gods fought, ferociously. Blood spattered the ground, as did bodies and detached limbs.

He turned 180 degrees, and behind him, saw the summit, only it wasn't a full mountain anymore. Now, it was simply a rock pole, and on top, his uncle's tree; it was the only thing left.

END
Lost and want to play catch up?

Be sure to checkout Adventures of Jacko the Conjurer: Red Skies, Blue Skies.

Scheduled for release 2013 - 2014:

Adventures of Jacko the Conjurer: Red Lands

More information:

Adventures of Jacko the Conjurer is an epic fantasy series about a boy who's been doomed to save the world for longer than he can remember. In this series of tales, follow Jacko as he struggles, once more, to commit to saving the world, but with one difference: this time will be the final and last sacrifice.

LYSSA

VAMPIN Book Series #13

By Jamie Ott
Copyright   2011 Jamie Ott. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used without written permission.

Publication Date: 7/21/2012

For all inquiries, please contact passionateprose@mail.com.
Warrior Princess
Chapter 1

The King walked down the line, saying his goodbyes to everyone. When he got to Lyssa, he reminded her, for the thousandth time, to stay out of the armory because it was no place for a young woman.

Everyone pretended not to know that she was his daughter. The King said it was for her protection, but she knew it was really because of Andrada.

She hated Lyssa.

Every chance she could, she'd hound the King about sending her away. But the King loved Lyssa's mother more than he'd ever loved a mortal woman. That's why he honored his promise by making Lyssa a Lady of the house.

"Be good, Lyssa," the King said.

He embraced her, and then kissed her cheek. Leaning in just slightly, he whispered, "I love you, my goddess. You're more precious than gold."

He kissed her one more time.

Lyssa didn't want to look at him. She was mad because he never listened to her. But she turned her eyes up from the gravel, anyway.

"I love you, too," she said.

He heaved up onto his horse.

They watched as he and his officers made their way down the palace's windy mountain road.

Lyssa turned to go inside, but not before catching the gaze of her stepmother and her half brother, Celius.

Murderous.

They had no reason to look so. Every king in history had his concubines. Since illegitimate children had no claim to the kingdom, neither Lyssa nor her other half-brother, Dracus, was a threat.

He leaned his arm around her shoulder, and they walked back inside the palace.

"Did you talk to him?" Dracus asked.

"Yes, and he hardly believed me when I told him about the letter Andrada received from Imperator Trajan. He said he talked to her, but I'm sure she put on her sweet, fetching smile," she replied.

They walked over the threshold and down the hall to the library.

"Father was always blind to women, thinking they're unintelligent creatures. 'But what about Cleopatra?' I asked. 'A harlot queen,' he says. She never could've ruled Egypt without Julius or Mark."

"Dracus, do not call him Father," she said, sitting in her cathedra.

"Why not? We're alone."

He walked across the room to the clay jug and poured himself some mead.

"Because if you slip, like I did by calling him father in front of the senators, he'll have you put in the carceral."

Ignoring her, he said, "Come on, Lys," as he sometimes called her for short. "Let's practice making petards."

"The King says if I'm caught in the armory once more, I'm to be barred in my room."

"You mustn't listen. The Romans will be coming for us, sooner or later.

You have to understand that though Father is a fairly good man, he has an extremely large ego.

Since he was born, he's been told that he's next to godliness. Because he can't let go of these silly ideologies, the Romans will take him.

Now, maybe we'll be lucky because hardly anyone knows who we are, but we need to be prepared to fight our way out of the castle. Just in case something should happen to me, you need to be prepared to fight alone."

"What makes you think the Romans will come again?"

"Rome wants there to be no more kings. Now the only reason they've allowed our father to remain is because of Andrada's persuasion, and Father's promised new allegiance to Rome. That's soon to change, as pressure from Rome to take Dacia increases, and especially as Father won't renounce his title. Taking this rich land, and Andrada for his concubine, will be another honor for him."

"The King will fight them off. He's done it before, and he'll do it again."

"All lies, Lyssa. I was there when we fought. He tells the people we won the battles to keep up morale, the support of the people and the army, but Rome could have taken us anytime.

Father, with his pride, rather than conform to the ways of Rome for the sake of his people, must show off, must be sovereign. He won't accept that he is no longer a king, and that is why they will come for him," he sighed. "Once Imperator Trajan comes, all Andrada will have to do is point her finger, and we're dead."

~~~

Later that night, she took dinner alone in her room on the hearth.

Her quarters were bland. A couple hanging tapestries covered the wood walls. In the center was a canopied wooden bed with stuffed and sewn up cloths.

Over mulled wine and sheep's stomach with honey and cheese, she imagined what would become of her beloved Sarmizegetusa.

The Romans had a history of destroying capital cities, with especial ill regard to temples and universities, often burning them to the ground. Great countries had already lost so much history and learning. The thought of such things happening to her city made her sick.

She sipped her wine and sighed.

The fire crackled.

Her brother was right, she said to herself. Although King Decebalus didn't believe it, his time would come to an end.

Lyssa wondered what her future would be.

Where would she go when the time came? Would she end up a peasant, a servant, or a slave?

What if she decided not to flee the palace? Would she be beaten, dragged through the city and executed?

Bastard or no, it wasn't common practice that any living descendants of a king should survive, lest he should declare himself King and exact his revenge when the conqueror least expected.

Dracus promised he'd always come for her; that she was all the family he had. But Lyssa knew that he was a terrible combatant. Even when the King sent him to the infantry, he'd likely be a councilman.

"So that's it," she said to herself. "I must leave before they come."

The sound of the palace gates being drawn distracted her from her thoughts.

She set her bread down and walked to the open shutter.

Her brother's shield bounced a ray of moonlight into her eye, as he rode down the mountain.

Every time he left, she got scared. One day, if the Romans didn't come soon, she'd be gone by the time he got back. Her stepmother would see to it.

She went to her special hiding place behind her favorite red tapestry.

Lyssa drew back the canvas and wiggled out the 10x4 inch piece of wood. Inside laid her favorite knife, a baselard, and the morning star her brother forged for her.

The baselard was sheathed by a scabbard that Lyssa had sewn into a set of straps. She rolled up her sleeve and tied the straps around her arm.

When the blade was secured, she grabbed the morning star and replaced the wood.

Lyssa returned to the fire and resumed her dining.

When alone in the palace with her stepmother and Celius, it was a wise practice to keep some weapons close. Lyssa was stronger than most humans, but she could still be overcome in numbers.

Dracus made the morning star especially for her. It was a small spiked metal ball with a chain that was attached to a foot long wood handle. He reinforced the handle with a sheet of metal.

One thing her brother was superb at was making weapons and glass jewelry. The King said it was beneath him, however, and banned him from returning to the smiths.

Lyssa was irritated because Dracus was going to visit his mistress.

He knew she hated it when he left her alone, especially when the King was gone. It was at those times she felt most vulnerable.

"Lyssa," he told her, once. "Andrada will only be coming for you when no one is around, and when you are vulnerable," he stressed. "She'll always be waiting, and you must always be ready."

He was right, but his frequent absences could give Andrada an opportunity to get rid of her sooner rather than later.

Lyssa wasn't ready to leave the palace, yet. She wanted to stay as long as possible. And it wasn't just the fear of going out, alone, in the world as a peasant that held her back, but it was the idea of never seeing her father or brother again. Even if the King was in denial, all of their lives had an expiration that was nearing.

Simply, Lyssa loved her brother and father. She wanted to make the most of the time they had left, together.

~~~

That night, when Lyssa settled into bed, she followed the procedure advised by her brother. She left two candles burning, put a pair of sandals by her bed, and hid her weapons under her pillow. If the castle were to be stormed, she'd be ready to go.

Every so often, she was stirred by a murmur or vibration within the walls.

Just as she started to nod off, the feel of many people running in the castle vibrated up through the floor boards.

Lyssa got out of bed and gently pulled back the wood pivoted blockade.

Her stepmother's servant was arguing with her governess.

Suddenly, the whispering stopped. She heard a sharp intake of breath, and something fell to the floor.

Lyssa pulled back the blockade a bit more, and looked out to see what made the noise.

Her governess was lying on the floor, clutching her abdomen.

She screamed, "Lyssaaa! They're coming, run!"

Lyssa slammed the blockade shut.

Lying against the wall was a 6x6x6 inch wood bar. She slid it into the metal rests that were grooved into the door and the wall.

Her step mother's servant rammed the door.

She ran to her bed, slipped on her sandals and grabbed her morning star.

The bottom half of the door broke in.

The servant, and a man she'd never seen before, ducked under the wood bar.

She spun gracefully as she swung the spiked ball into the man's face, spattering blood all over the servant's night dress.

The servant screamed.

More footsteps vibrated up through the wood floor.

Lyssa pulled back the red tapestry of flowers, and kicked in the wall, behind which her brother had a secret waiter installed.

She tried not to scream, as she plummeted four floors down.

A moment later, she hit the underground floor.

Just like Dracus told her, there were little ridges in the ground that glowed with the remnants of eel blood.

She followed the ridges to the wall.

Lyssa drew back her fist and punched in the wood. Then she yanked back the planks so that she could squeeze in.

Inside, her brother had a special set of wooden espadrilles, which she tied around her ankles and then ran down the wall.

Desperately, she tried to hold her breath as much as possible, for the stench of urine and rot was horrible.

She couldn't see a thing, except for traces of eel blood painted on the wood walls.

The ground continued to grade down. She stumbled a couple of times.

Five hundred feet later, she sighed with relief because the ground had leveled off, meaning that she was at the bottom of the mountain and was traveling through the tunnel.

Right up ahead, a tiny white light could be seen.

Fresh air breezed past her.

Happiness welled up inside her.

Once emerged out of the hole, she ran as fast as she could. With the moon full, and no trees or plants to obscure her for 200 more feet, she could still be seen by those on the mountain.

A few moments later, she made it through the small clearing, into the trees. She chanced a backward glance.

Along the castle wall, lamps had been lit. There was a shadow moving down the mountain road.

Just like her brother said, he'd left a trail for her. It was a bunch of white stones that, at first glance, seemed to zig zag ahead of her. When she looked at the white rocks as a whole, she could tell they all went in one direction: North.

She followed the trail to a tree where she dug up the Earth.

Buried there was a large box.

Inside, there was a plain purple dress and a purse with enough gold and silver coins for Lyssa to live well for many years. Beside it laid her brother's miniature crossbow – perfect for catching small prey, and a bag of the smallest arrows she'd ever seen.

Quickly, she changed and disappeared further into the forest.
Romani Circle
Chapter 2

Lyssa walked until the moon and the sun faced each other from opposite sides of the sky.

Once more, she looked at the map her brother left for her.

Lyssa was never good at interpreting handwritten landscapes. Her brother told her that if she got confused, to follow the seven stars until the sun rose. Then walk with her back to the sun.

Now that the sun was rising, and the morning star glittered through the trees, it was time to go west.

She wished he would have told her how far she'd need to go because she was really starting to get hungry.

A few miles later, she approached a clearing where a road had recently been traveled.

Lyssa knelt and looked at the grooves of the tracks. The patterns suggested that more people went left, than right.

So which way should she go?

If she went left, she could find a city where people were looking for her. To go right might mean she'd be on the road for some time, and would have to hunt for food.

After a few moments contemplation, she went left.

Several hours later, a village that she didn't recognize came into view.

The road led her straight through a marketplace. On the left and right sides, farmers and smiths had their stands up and were selling goods.

She pulled a small silver piece from her bosom, and bought a small loaf of bread. Up ahead, the road lead to a line of people waiting with buckets at a well.

People paid her no mind as she got in line to drink and wet her face.

She continued along the road until the end of the town.

Not sure of what to do, she sat on the edge of the road to think.

A very dark and scruffy looking man, wearing a schenti, sidled over to her. His face was fallen into folds, and gray heavily bespeckled his beard.

"You look lost, miss," he said nicely.

"I'm fine."

"Shouldn't you have a guardian?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, a lady never goes out alone."

"Please, go."

But the man ignored her.

"Are you running away from home, miss?"

She said nothing.

"I've known many noblemen, in my time. They keep their children locked away, or on very short chains. Eventually, they all want to see the world. Parents just don't understand that children need to experience things, too."

The man sat down next to her in the dirt.

On his shoulder, he carried a bag. He pulled the cork from it and took a sip.

"Here, miss. This will make you feel better."

She took the leather bag and sipped. From it, spiced ale refreshed her.

"My name's Bali."

The man pulled a hunk of cured goat from his other bag. He sliced off a chunk and gave it to her, before helping himself.

"You know, I have seven daughters and one boy," he sighed. "I know how a woman's heart works. They never want to do what they're destined to, on this Earth. Can't say I blame them. There is so much more to life than breeding."

He smiled and turned to her.

"How would you like to see the sunset on the Nile? Or cross into Athens and meet real men of learning?" he asked, chewing down his meat.

"I suppose I'd like that," she said, taking another sip of the ale.

"You look like a woman of learning, yourself. Can you read?"

"Yes."

"So can I," he leaned in and smiled.

A cart with a mule slowly made its way up the road.

"Well, miss, it's getting hotter; high noon approaches. I must be getting back. Why don't you come with me? You obviously have no place to go. A pretty girl like you should not be alone. You can meet my daughters and the rest of my family."

Lyssa looked up at the man. He seemed harmless. Seven daughters meant he was likely not a lunatic.

She followed him further down the road.

~~~

They walked for an hour before turning into another section of forest.

High noon had come, and the heat was making her tired.

"Just a short way, miss."

Out of the trees, appeared a tall cliff that blocked out the sun, giving them shade.

Beside the cliff was a row of half a dozen wagons.

Before the wagons' was a large fire, around which a settlement of twenty or so people worked. Some of the women were sewing, while one man carved out a piece of wood.

They looked up at the sounds of their approach.

"This is Lyssa. I've invited her to stay awhile. Treat her like family," said Bali.

The men looked approvingly while the women gave her nasty looks.

"Lyssa, why don't you help Chandra with the leathers," he said, indicating a middle aged woman with frizzy hair and a dirty dress.

Lyssa went to her side and helped her sew the pieces into shoes for their kids. With her quick, strong hands, they finished the work in an hour, making the lady very happy.

"You have the hands of a lady, but they're so strong," she smiled.

The sound of children laughing made her look up.

Several men were making their way back to camp, and six children followed.

They carried lines with dozens of fish.

Chandra introduced her. They nodded their heads, silently, and went about their way.

Since there was still light in the sky, Lyssa helped a man, named Eli, with fixing several wagon wheels. He was also pleased.

"You're so small. You don't look like a good worker," he told her.

Though they were impressed with her work, they still regarded her with a cold shoulder. Only the kids seemed to take a liking to her, admiring her pretty purple dress and clean shiny, straight hair.

After a dinner of fish and wild mushrooms, one man played a little wood flute.

"Lyssa, take this," Bali said, handing her a large brown fur. "It's going to get cold."

She accepted it appreciatively, as the temperatures had already fallen. Dacia was always known for its alternating desert-like temperatures.

That night, she couldn't get to sleep at all. The ground was too hard and the cold chilled right through her fur. She couldn't stop shivering long enough to relax.

She turned over and saw Bali and Eli walk into the trees. They both glanced at her.

Something about the way they looked at her made her uneasy. She shook it off, and rolled back over.

Sometime later, after finally having nodded off, a pair of rough hands grabbed her and forced her into a sitting position.

"What's going on," she asked groggily.

Someone tied her hands with rope, yanked her up off the ground and dragged her into the trees.

"Eli, what are you doing?"

A few feet ahead, Bali talked to a man in a rich purple robe with a silver sash.

His greedy eyes examined her head to foot.

"Yes, yes, I'll take her."

They bartered numbers.

Lyssa's brother had taught her how to get out of simple bindings.

Easily, she turned her wrist, and tugged the middle cord, which she twisted over, allowing her left hand just enough room to squeeze out.

Right as her wrist was freed, Eli threw a net over her.

"She got out of the bind," he said.

Lyssa place each hand on a piece of rope, right above her head, and pulled outward, ripping the net in half.

They stood, frozen with surprise a moment before reacting.

Eli grabbed her by the arms and tried to subdue her, but she slipped out, turned around and punched him to the ground.

"Get her!" shouted Bali.

Lyssa grabbed the baselard from within her sleeve.

The man in the purple robe tried to grab her by the shoulder.

She ducked, turned, and swung the knife into his spine, dropping him like dead fish.

Without a moment of hesitation, she yanked the knife out and swiped at Bali, who jumped back and pulled out a knife of his own.

They circled each other several times before the sounds of footsteps came up behind her.

"Well," said Bali. "That's twice I mistake you. You work and fight. You're not really a lady, are you?"

She didn't have time to respond. A person was right behind her.

She stepped left, turned and slammed the knife down into the young man's neck.

"That's my son!" shouted Bali, who ran at her with his knife raised.

Lyssa leapt right, and rammed her blade up into his chest.

She yanked the baselard out of his chest, wiped it on the ground and looked around.

Two others from the camp had woken. It appeared they'd been watching them for a time.

Together, they ran at her.

Two of the men came at her with swords. Lyssa bobbed and weaved right and left, as she walked backward.

When both men accidentally crossed their swords, Lyssa stabbed the one on her right, through his hand and removed his sword.

The man fell to his knees, yelling.

The other one continued to poke and jab at her. Lyssa met each attempt with her sword.

Frustrated by his inability to conquer her, he raised his sword to the sky, meaning to bring it down with all the force he could muster.

It was a mistake because Lyssa's brother taught her exactly what to do, in such a situation. He even dubbed it an easy win.

She brought the handle of the sword downward to her left as she stepped forward and left. Easily, it sliced through his midriff, as he brought down his sword with all his might, impaling his own self even further.

Lyssa drew back her sword.

The man stood in shock for a moment, and then something shiny and red poked out from his gut.

He grabbed his stomach, trying to push his entrails back in.

Lyssa took his sword and ran back to the camp with the intention of getting her things and leaving. However, the Romanis were determined to kill her.

A melee ensued that lasted a good hour, even the women tried to subdue her. Several of them died as a result.

She owed it all to her brother. Yes, she was a strong woman, but she'd never have survived if not for his pushing her to learn to handle a sword.

By the time the sun peeked down on them, only the children and six of the Romanis were left. They were too injured to fight anymore.

Lyssa shredded the net and tied them all together, even the children.

"Now that is how you tie someone up," she said.

Her brother also taught her nautical knots. One would have to saw their wrists off to get out of them.

She sat by the fire and watched them all for a moment.

The women cried about not hurting the children, and the men looked at her as though she were evil. They murmured curses at her.

Ignoring them, she laid back and fell asleep.

~~~

Sometime later, there was a stirring. She opened her eyes to find that a woman had, in fact, escaped. Her ropes had been cut.

Grinning, she went after her. It was nearly impossible for the average woman to outrun Lyssa.

She brought the woman back and tied her, face forward to the trunk, with extended hands and ankles around the tree.

Another wonderful lesson from her brother: tying one up this way was a classic method of torture. Essentially, keeping someone suspended in between a sitting and a standing position.

"After a few hours, it's almost like hanging from a cross," Dracus told her.

They watched as she picked up one of the leather straps that'd been hung out to dry.

"Tell me, how many slaves have you sold? How many young lives' have you ruined?"

She walked back and forth.

When they didn't reply, she asked, "How many beatings did you give them, before they submitted?"

When they didn't reply, she drew back her arm and brought the leather strap down, hard, into the woman's back.

She screamed at the top of her lungs. But the Romani were a cold and hardened folk. Motionless, they sat, unfazed by the woman's suffering.

"You should all rot in hell. She's one of you, and you don't care if I beat her?"

Again, silence.

Lyssa sat down at the fire and made breakfast.

She put stewed lamb chunks and mushrooms in some spiced ale and gave it to the kids.

Later that day, she went to the river and filled a couple buckets of water. When she made it back to camp, she made tea and gave the kids bread and water.

"How long are you gonna keep us tied up like this?" asked Chandra.

"I'm not sure," she said. "Right now, I just like watching you suffer. Maybe I'll keep you indefinitely."

After she'd supped, she checked their bondage and announced that she would go to town.

She grabbed her morning star, crossbow and arrows.

"If you can't escape, which I'm sure you won't," she smirked, "don't worry. I'll be back."

Lyssa wanted to find news of her father or the castle. Whoever broke into her room didn't look like a Roman soldier. For all she knew, he could have been an assassin.

If he was an assassin, she could find her father or brother, and tell them what happened. Maybe the King would get rid of Andrada, once and for all.

But if it were a Roman Soldier, staying in the forest was a bad idea.

As she got closer to the village, she became frightened. The town was deserted. Stands were upturned, fruits, bread and other items were strewn everywhere.

Blood stained the gravel.

Several men and women, and one child, lay dead in the dirt behind the stands.

The Romans must have finally come. Who else would do such things to the Dacian people? Not even her father was as cruel.

She picked up an empty sack. Lyssa picked up food and other items from the ground.

At the town well, she filled her leather bag with water and doused herself.

Lyssa knew it was a bad idea, and she was scared. But she had to know, without question, that her brother and father were either alive or dead. She would only leave her father and brother when she had absolutely no other choice.

So she followed the road back to the forest, and followed the rocks back to the palace.

~~~

It was midnight.

Once again, the lamps on the castle wall had been lit.

She set her sack and her weapons down, even the money her brother left for her because she needed to be able to move lightly.

Taking only her knife and morning star, she ran across the field as quickly as she could. Her espadrilles were still at the entrance of the tunnel.

Holding her breath, she walked against the grade. The hole she'd busted into the wall was still open.

Lyssa left the ground floor, and ran up several flights of stairs before reaching her brother's floor.

Immediately, she knew something was wrong, for his room was always blockaded at night. He did this for the same reason as she: to protect himself from Andrada.

Still, she approached the archway and inspected the room. It was empty.

The dungeons were in the back of the palace, but she needed to get to the key room first.

Up another set of stairs, and down a black as pitch hall, she went. In the room at the very back was the key room.

Carefully, Lyssa applied pressure to the door until the iron split.

The door swung back, freely.

She grabbed the enormous metal key ring, and ran back down the stairs. On the ground floor, she veered right, toward the dungeons.

They were empty.

Her heart sank.

Her father's room was on the top floor. Andrada could be there, but she had to see if her father was alive, still.

Once more, she ran up several flights of stairs. Her father's room wasn't blockaded, either.

She stopped in his archway.

On the bed, highlighted by a flickering candle, Andrada was lying next to a man. He was not her father.

Almost as if sensing her, they opened their eyes, simultaneously.

Lyssa recognized him from the statue in the town center; it was Imperator Trajan.

She walked up to them with her knife at the ready.

"Scream and it's over," she said.

"Lyssa," said Andrada. "What is this?"

"Where's my brother and father?"

"Gone, and if you had any sense, you'd have stayed gone to," she said.

Imperator made a swift movement. He sat up and grabbed her wrist with the knife, and pulled her onto the bed.

She punched him in the face, making him slacken his grip.

Lyssa ran to the archway, when something hit her in the back of her arm.

Her mouth dropped at the sight of a silver tip sticking out of her shoulder.

She reached around and yanked out the blade.

Infuriated, and without a moment's hesitation, she turned and threw the dagger at Andrada.

It landed right between her eyes.

The Imperator yelled.

Lyssa left the room.

Down to the ground floor, through the wall, and down the tunnel, she went.

She gathered her items. Right as she was about to take off running again, she heard the sounds of hoofs.

Looking back, she saw the shadow of Romans galloping down the mountain.

She hurried back through the forest, and didn't slow until she reached the deserted village.

Exhausted, and having lost a lot of blood, Lyssa crawled into the first deserted straw hut.

Desperately, she wrapped her shoulder, and then passed out on the ground.

~~~

The next morning, when she made it back to the Romani camp, she untied them. She knew the Romans were expert trackers, and they'd likely kill them all.

"Everyone, pack up. You have to leave," she shouted.

"Why?" asked a young man, named Gulzar.

"The Romans are coming. The town is destroyed, and they'll be coming in this direction."

"How do you know, were you followed?" asked another woman.

But it was too late. She should have never stopped in the village.

From out of the trees, came a dozen Roman soldiers.

They were just as brutal as they were rumored to be. It didn't take long for them to slaughter everyone, except the children who would likely be imprisoned, and later enslaved.

Romans typically despised the Romani people.

Lyssa was the only one who got away, and just barely. They'd brought their toughest warrior.

Although he couldn't take Lyssa, with a damaged shoulder, he gave her quite a beating before she finally sunk a sword through his ear.

She couldn't have felt worse. If she'd just stayed away from the palace, the Romanis would still be alive. Yes, they were terrible, dirty thieves, but she didn't want to see their children suffer in jail because of it.

Without any real direction, she wandered through the forest, until, exhausted, she could no longer walk.

She fell to the ground, and crawled to the nearest tree.

Leaning her back against the trunk, she unwrapped her arm. Blood oozed out, copiously, and there was a slight stench that indicated the beginning of an infection.

She should have cauterized the wound already. Hopefully, she hadn't waited too long.

Lyssa looked around for flint stones.

Her brother taught her the Egyptian Bow Drill, but just the slightest movement caused her excruciating pain.

It wasn't hard to find such stones in that particularly rocky floored forest. She seized the first heavily crystallized quartz she could find. Then she gathered some moss, twigs, and branches; she even managed some pine tar.

She set them in a messy pile, pulled out her dagger and struck the rugged blade with the rock, sending sparks into the moss.

After fifteen minutes with no results, she cried.

Frustrated, she hit the blade so hard that it skidded across the surface, sending an array of sparks into the moss, which became immediately enflamed.

She cried even harder with relief.

Lyssa threw in the little twigs, and then small branches. Finally, one of the sticks was aflame.

She pulled the stick, blew it out, and braced herself.

"AAaaaaggghh!!!" screams echoed out for miles.

She threw the branch back into the fire and pulled another one, and placed it to the back of her shoulder, too.

"AAAGGGHHH!!!!"

Flocks of birds left their places in the trees.

"Breathe," she said to herself. "Breathe."

Instead, she passed out.
Meeting Lucenzus
Chapter 3

When she woke, her fire was out, and it was dark. She was face down, sleeping on the ground. Her face was partially numb from the grains of sand that'd pressed into her skin.

Someone stood before her, looking bemused.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

The man had the orange-est colored hair she'd ever seen.

"How long have you watching me?"

"Oh, just a few seconds."

Using one arm, she pushed herself up off the dirt. Looking at her shoulder, she noticed it had soaked through its binding.

"That'll need to be cleaned. It's infected," he said.

He took a bag from off his shoulder, and set it on the ground. From within, the man pulled out a smaller medicine bag.

"You need stitches. Sit down," he said, motioning to the ground. "I have war wound training."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I'm not gonna harm you; I promise. Now, if you let that infection go, you will lose your arm, and maybe even your life. Better to take a chance on me, don't you think?"

She considered him a moment, and then settled down, leaning her back against the tree.

The man rearranged the pile of moss and kindling. From out of air, a fire enflamed them.

"How did you do that?"

"With the power of my mind."

He untied the straps of his medicine bag.

"Who are you?"

"Lucenzus."

He opened the medicine bag and pulled a small leather vial. The man moved closer to her.

"May I touch you?"

"Yes."

He unwrapped the binding from her arm. Lucenzus got another leather bag and uncorked it. He doused water over her wound, and then scrubbed it with a handful of lavender that he, also, pulled from his bag. Then he rinsed it again, and poured acidic vinegar over both sides of her shoulder, making her scream.

"Sorry, but vinegar is an antiseptic, as is lavender. It's necessary to fight infection. Now, I'm just gonna stitch both sides up at the corners, so that the wound can drain," he said.

When he'd done, he re wrapped it and added, "Keep it dry. If it gets moist, open it up and let it breathe; otherwise the infection will continue."

"Thank you."

"Drink," he asked, pulling out yet another bag.

She thanked him and took a sip. From it, the most delicious wine greeted her.

Lucenzus gazed at her as if he were contemplating.

"What is it you want to say?" asked Lyssa. "Spit it out."

"Are you Lyssa, daughter of King Decebalus?"

Her mouth dropped. She felt in her sleeve for her baselard.

Lucenzus, noticing her action, waived his hands at her in a 'please stop' gesture.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Lyssa pulled out the blade anyway. She pointed it, and asked, "How did you know my name?"

"I will show you, but I need to reach into my bag."

"Slowly, then," said Lyssa. "Just so you know, I'm skilled at knife throwing. Try anything, and this blade will be in your neck."

Gently, he pulled back the flap of his bag and pulled out a drawing. It was a miniature of the portrait her father hired an artist to make.

"How did you get this?"

"Your father sent it to your mother. She gave it to me."

"You're lying," she said angrily. "Tell the truth!"

"It is the truth. Do you think it merely coincidence that I showed up, here?"

"Explain."

"First, please, put away the knife. I know you're strong, but I'm like you, Lyssa. You won't be able to take me."

"What do you mean by, 'You're like me?'"

"Put away the blade and I'll explain. Really, haven't I proved that I'm not going to hurt you? So let's be civil, please."

Lyssa tucked the knife back into her scabbard.

"After your father left the palace, he was apprehended by Dacian traitors. He's been taken to a villa somewhere near Orsova, and placed under house arrest. Your father sent a messenger to your mother, telling her that you're in danger. She sent me to get you."

"I don't believe you. What's my mother's name?"

"Sana Mortisia, daughter of Vik Mortisia XVII."

"Okay, so what now?"

"You are to come with me. I will take you to her."

~~~

The next few days, they walked many miles. Lyssa couldn't help but ask one question after another about her mother.

What was she like? What had she been doing all the years? Was she educated, and a lady?

"Lyssa, I'm sorry, but I don't know all the answers. Though our settlement is small, we don't rub shoulders often. I only volunteered to come and get you because it's my job. I take trips, deliver messages, and guide people. Before this, my father kept me up on the hall."

"What hall?"

"Valhol."

"Odin's hall for slain warriors?"

"You know of it?"

"Yes, my governess taught me; only she told me it was a mythological place."

"It's no myth; it's a real place. Things have changed over the centuries, though."

Over the course of their journey, Lyssa came to like Luncenzus. He was nice, calm, intelligent, informed and nonjudgmental. Lyssa'd never had a crush before, but she contemplated, more than once, about kissing him. His lips were pinkish and soft looking. He had blue eyes that were like azure beads.

One day, they came upon a settlement.

People worked in and out of straw huts. The grass was ample, lush and green, and the sky was gray blue.

They were definitely not in Dacia anymore. The temperature drop was a shock to her.

Lucenzus was kind enough to rent rooms at the inn, for them, and ordered that a cloak be made for her.

The inn was nothing more than a very large barn with rickety wood slats and a straw roof.

Lyssa's room was the tiniest she'd ever seen, for it was the size of a closet. On one side of the room was a heap of straw that lay on a wood cot.

The lady of the inn brought her a basin full of water. Lyssa washed her face and body, and then rested for an hour before meeting Lucenzus for dinner.

When she woke, it was twilight. The first stars twinkled in the sky.

She walked around to the dining area. The town's workmen had cleared off, and a semblance of night life was emerging. Men drunk and danced in the road, while scandalous looking women walked up and down the muddy road.

The dining hall was nothing more than a couple long wood benches that many people crowded into for a bite. Many appeared to be passing through town, while others were there simply to mingle.

Across the room, Lucenzus waited. A bottle of wine and a candle lit.

He stood up as she sat directly across from him.

"Have a nice rest?"

"Yes, very," she said.

"I took the liberty of ordering lamb stew."

"Sounds great," she said, helping herself to a glass of wine.

Ripping a chunk off the loaf, she asked, "Where exactly is Valhol?"

"It's right above where we're headed, which is Valhala. The sister city used to be a sacred place, but now the last of the Primas are gathered there. Now, only the Priests are up on the hall."

A lady came and set a medium sized pot in their midst. Fragrant lamb steamed forth.

"We should make it in a few days."

"You never answered my question: Why did you say you're like me?"

"I'm of similar blood, as you."

They tucked into their stew a moment, before Lyssa asked, "What's does she look like, my mother?"

"Oh, like you. She's got long dark hair and large beautiful brown eyes. A very striking lady; equal in darkness and beauty, to the fairest."

"How is it that she's dark like me, and yet you're fair complexioned."

"We all belonged to other ethnic groups, at one point. Primas ruled this Earth, the way the humans do, now."

"You are one of these things, too?"

"Half, and so are you."

He must have noticed the disbelief in her eyes, for he said, "It's the truth. You'll see soon."

She took a few more bites and considered his words.

"So she's a commoner?"

"No, not exactly. Our people don't view each other in caste. There are the leaders, and there are the non leaders."

"You don't know anything else about her?"

"No, but really, what's the rush? You don't need to know everything now. You'll, both, have much time to talk. We'll get there soon, I promise."

That night they retired early.

The next day, they stocked up on supplies, and continued their journey north.

A week and a half later, they ended up at a settlement where a friend of Lucenzus took them in for a couple nights.

It was even colder than their last stop. Grey clouds hung close to the ground, and herds stayed close together.

Just like the last town, the houses were made of wood and straw. The people almost seemed covered in mud, as it was everywhere.

Lyssa pulled her cloak in, tightly.

A man in rags and muddy heels walked up to them with a large smile on his face. He had eyes the color of wine.

For a moment, Lyssa was caught by Lucenzus' smile, which was wide and beautiful, accentuating lovely cheek bones.

"How goes it, friend?"

"Great!" He hugged the man, slapping his back. "This is Lyssa; Lyssa, this is Von."

She extended her hand. When he took hers, he grabbed a little too hard, hurting her, something that'd never happened before. She wondered if Von were Prima too.

They followed him down the road to the largest hut.

"How are you feeling?" asked Lucenzus.

"Ah, great," said Von. "Still struggling with this blood thirst, but it's getting better."

"Blood thirst?" asked Lyssa.

"She's half Prima, but ignorant of our ways," said Lucenzus to Von. He explained to her, "When the Primas first realized how small their numbers were getting, they tried turning humans who looked most like them, into them."

"That's right," Von cut in. "They housed us, taught us, and initiated us, using their blood in a sacred rite. They knew their blood had magical properties, but they didn't realize there would be side effects."

"I don't understand," said Lyssa.

"After drinking the Prima blood, it changes the human into something else, altogether. Shameful, to be honest: blood sucking fiends, demons," said Lucenzus. "They had to destroy most of those first Prima initiates. Fortunately, Stelar, the high priest, has managed to create a solution that lessens the effects of the blood."

"Is that why your eyes are red?"

"Yes."

"Did you take part in these rites, Lucenzus?"

"Yes, but those who are half Prima don't suffer the same as a pure human."

"You don't drink blood, then?"

"Nope, never. Half Primas don't need it. But my strengths increased, a dozenfold."

"That's not exactly true though," said Von. "Remember old Zacarius? He's half Prima, and he drank the blood and went crazy, even worse than most humans. Some peoples Prima side is stronger than others. Zacarius couldn't go a day without killing, and now's he's staked underground, just like many of the humans whom Stelar's serum couldn't help."

"That's horrible!" said Lyssa. "They continue to give people these rites?"

"Yes, and be prepared. I suspect they'll want you to take initiation. All half breeds are expected to participate."

"Why do they do it?"

"Because the blood makes humans immortal, and magical; almost as strong as a Prima, but not quite."

That night, Von and the villagers had a welcoming party for them. As it turned out, Lucenzus and Von grew up together. They were like brothers; it was he who had Von initiated.

The town's people strung up a cow, and they dance around the fire and drank fine wine.

Lyssa was exhausted, and pardoned herself for not being extremely social. She'd just never been on the road for such a long period before.

She sat back and watched the fire, drinking wine. Her mind flitted between thoughts of her father, brother and mother.

She took a sip of her wine and sighed with happiness. Yes, it was sad that she might never see her father or brother again, but she was happy to know that she was going someplace. That she might have a future home, and that she wouldn't be alone, or afraid, or have to hide from anyone. As grim as the situation was, she had something to be grateful for.

Across the fire sat two pretty blonde girls who couldn't have been more than seventeen. Lucenzus went up to them and spoke enthusiastically.

Lyssa tried to watch them inconspicuously, hoping he didn't ask either of them to dance.

When he did just that, Lyssa felt her face get hot.

She looked away and downed her wine.

Von appeared before her. The way his pale face and hair were washed out, yet his eyes glowed by the light of the fire was demonic looking.

"Dance?" he asked.

She accepted his hand.

He yanked her up, fast and strong, and caught her on his hip.

Immediately, Lyssa was taken with him, and a little aroused. Never had a man been able to exalt strength over her before.

He spun her around fast, making her laugh. They stepped around and around, until she was out of breath.

"Aren't you exhausted?"

"No, I'm not human, anymore! I never get tired!" he boasted.

He grabbed her by the hand and led her to a section of the table where he poured her more wine.

Instinctively, Lyssa looked to see where Lucenzus was.

Still talking to one of the girls.

Noticing her gaze, Von said, "You like him? What a shame! I like you. You're different than these pasties. I can't stop staring at your straight, shiny dark hair, the way the light bounces off it. I've never seen anything like it."

He reached over and lightly touched her smooth strands.

"The finest hair I've ever seen on a woman."

"Funny," said Lyssa. "In my land, pasty is quite fashionable. Golden locks are priceless."

"We all want what we don't have," he said.

"Tis true," said Lyssa, raising her cup.

"Cheers" he said.

That night, she fell asleep on the bench by the fire.

Sometime later, a pair of hands lifted her.

She opened her eyes and was pleased to see that it was Lucenzus.

He carried her to a heap of straw in the barn and laid her down.

Lyssa put her hands around his neck and pressed him toward her.

Lightly, they kissed for a few moments, before he pulled away.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm supposed to be getting married."

"To whom?" she asked, feeling shocked.

"I don't know yet."

"I'm confused."

"My father won't let me just marry anyone. It's a bad idea to get involved with me. I don't want to hurt you."

"Lucenzus, it's just a kiss. Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"That's what women always say, but it's always more they want. I did fall in love once with a mortal woman. When my father found out, he was livid; had me jailed for a long time."

"My father jailed me all the time. It's not a big deal."

"Wow, Lyssa. You really have no clue about the people you come from."

"You know, I'm getting sick of your snideness. If you don't want to talk plainly, then don't talk to me at all."

He sighed loudly, and said, "The Prima people live longer than humans do. When they jail their people, it's not just for a couple of days, more like a couple of decades."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said disbelievingly. "Just go away."

She laid back into the straw, and closed her eyes.

"Lyssa, you're part immortal."

She rolled back over and looked at him.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me. The Prima people are immortals. You and I are part immortal. By the time my father let me out of jail, the woman I loved was old and gray. It was the most devastating thing I've ever endured."

"How old are you?"

"A lot older than I look," he said, stood and walked out.

The next couple of days, they walked many miles.

Lyssa was hurt by Lucenzus' rejection, but her anger lifted upon finally seeing Valhala.

Up on the base of an incline, nestled against a mountain, was dozens of houses. In the middle, was a construction she'd only heard of from learned men; a structure she'd only seen in Roman drawings: a large stone castle. It was the most majestic thing she'd every seen. Behind it was an enormous peak that rose well beyond and into clouds.

"Up there is Valhol, beyond the clouds."

"That's impossible," she said. "How could anyone make such a journey?"

The answer to her question came a moment later.

Outlined by the horizon of the setting sun was a woman with long dark hair. Like an angel, she flew at them; her white dress billowed about her.

"Oh," she said, as she dropped to the ground. "I'm no angel."

Apparently, the woman could read minds, too.

"Mother?"

The woman pulled her into a bone crushing embrace.

"You must be my mother. I don't think anyone has ever held me so tight before," she smiled.

"Take my hands," she said.

Lyssa took one, and Lucenzus grabbed the other.

She flew them to Valhala.
Learning Valhol

Chapter 4

They flew over the city gates and landed in town's center.

Before them was a line of people waiting to get water from a stone well. Behind them was the entrance to the castle.

Turning around, Lyssa noticed several roads that led away from the center. Both sides of each of the roads were lined with stone houses.

The Primas were clearly advanced in architecture and stone masonry. In her land, she'd only seen drawings of stone homes.

Lyssa shivered. A thick cloud of fog hung around them.

"As daughter to the Dacian King, you've been invited to stay in the castle with the Elders," her mother said.

Lucenzus interrupted them. He said, "I'm gonna leave you two. I've got business, and I need to check in with my father. Bye, Lyssa."

He walked down a road to their right, and disappeared into a house.

"Come," said her mother.

They approached the castle. The guards opened the doors for them.

Inside was even chillier. Cold emanated from the stone walls.

Reading her mind once more, her mother said, "This is a cold place for non Prima people. We aren't as sensitive to temperatures as humans are."

Lyssa rubbed her eyes, trying to focus, but the entrance hall was too dark. All she could see was the light of a flickering candle some yards away.

"Grab my hand," her mother said. "Prima people don't need as much light to see."

In near blackness, she led her down a thin, but high ceilinged, chilly stone walkway.

At the end, they went right until they were in an open space. Though there was more room around them, it was still compact.

Lyssa, who was used to large halls and open plains, said, "Being in here feels like we're entombed."

"Don't worry, Lyssa. You'll get used to it. Most people in the world live in caves that are half this size, like the desert people."

Her mother dragged her down another right hall.

At the end was an amply lit room. Around a center stone console, a few women were preparing food. One kneaded bread while another stuffed a bird. One lady was chopping carrots.

To their left and right were more halls, but her mother led her up a set of stone steps.

Although the steps continued upward, they stepped onto the first landing and walked to the end of the hall.

Her mother, Sana, opened the door.

In the center of the room was a large table with chairs. Next to it was a canopied bed. On the right sight of the room, there was a fireplace. To the left was a large shuttered widow.

Lyssa opened the shutter and looked out.

Below, there were hundreds of houses. People walked in and out of them, carrying items. Some worked out in the open, farming animals and crafting while others tended small fields.

Suddenly, light filled the room.

Lyssa turned around. Every candle on the wall had come to flame.

"You can call fire with your mind, too?"

"Yes. You, probably, can do things, too."

"Me?"

"Every Prima is different. We each have our own abilities to control the elements, to read minds, and to master certain forms of kinesis. Since your half Prima, you might have some of these abilities, too."

Lyssa didn't think she had any so called abilities, but she did think back to a time when she'd visited a lion tamer who'd come to town. A particularly stubborn male wouldn't obey him. When the tamer struck him with a whip, the lion went for him. Without thinking, Lyssa grabbed the lion by the tail, and flung him several feet into an open cage, and locked the door.

There were many more strange incidents of strength, after that day.

"The Prima people are stronger than the average human. Our muscles are made up of a different kind of tissue," her mother said. "Our flesh is completely resilient and resistant to spasms, strains, and over pulling, as described by humans."

"But not resistant to stabbings?"

Sana looked at her shoulder.

She walked over to her, and pulled down her sleeve.

"Oh that's nasty," she said. "After we talk, I'll take you to the apothecary, down the street. You'll find our medicine is advanced. The swelling and puss will be completely gone by tomorrow morning."

She sat down at the table, and gestured that Lyssa should do the same.

"Where do you live?"

"In a lovely house further up the mountain base."

"What is it you wish to talk to me about?"

Her mother looked at her, quizzically.

"Well, actually, I assumed that you'd want to talk to me. I figured you'd have lots of questions, as usually those who are reunited with us do."

"I do have questions. I just wasn't sure if now is the time."

"Now is fine, as we haven't much time. You are to meet several of the Elders for dinner in a few hours, so how about we just jump right in? I'm sure you want to know why I gave you up. That's the number one question our interbred children have."

Sana paused a moment, sighed and continued, "As you know, our people are dying out. Humans are, now, the dominant species. We could easily blink them out of existence, but it won't change the fact that the Primas are dying out. We'll continue to do so, whether the humans are here or not. We've decided that it's better to have at least one intelligent form of life, rather none."

"Why don't the Prima people simply have more children?" Lyssa asked.

"Primas don't reproduce as quickly as humans, and that's a good thing, considering that we're immortal. The Earth's resources could be easily depleted.

Our reproductive system comes into cycle once every century, and we carry the child for ten or more years. This is why the humans will always dominate us in numbers.

When our elders realized how quickly the humans were populating, they tried interbreeding to create a species that would defend us, Primas, and keep our legacy alive. Unfortunately, most of the human women died, while most of the Prima women miscarried. You and Lucenzus, and others like him are quite the minority. You're likely the result of some sort weakness or mutation in our genes.

However, the King and I were not an attempt at population. We met on the River Danube, one night at a solstice feast. We fell into passion with one another. Our union and you were both by chance.

When I found myself pregnant with you, our Elders thought it a unique opportunity to liaison with the humans. If we couldn't breed well with them, we'd form an alliance.

King Decebalus agreed to raise you as a lady of the house in exchange for gifts, as he was due to marry Andrada. He would've never seen you suffer, but he had no intention to take you home with him. Also, he agreed to send us the best of his humans to join us.

But then the Romans came, and his main concern was protecting your land. They fought and lost, three times. We knew it was only a matter of time before Rome would tire of King Decebalus.

Now we could've easily pushed out the Romans, but the Elders thought it useless. Not only would they be risking the lives of Primas - as though we're strong, we're far from indestructible, but the humans were populating like ants. They'd never stop coming, and as you can see from nations around, they don't stop until they conquer."

"Why did you never come to visit me?"

"In recent years, women are rarely allowed to leave Valhala."

"Why?"

"Many women have gone missing over the years. We suspect they were abducted, sold into slavery, or killed for being Prima. Unlike you, many of our women haven't been trained to fight. The Elders don't believe women should do such things."

"What about half Primas?"

"You're going to be initiated. You'll be expected to remain, and do as the Elders tell you."

"I don't want to be initiated. I only came to meet you. I'm a human, born and raised."

"You must be initiated. Our people are dying out. The Elders will not accept your rejection. Don't make them force you, okay? Lest they jail you, and then you won't see sunlight for thirty years."

She paused.

Lyssa didn't respond.

"Tonight, you will dine with the village Elders, here in the castle. Tomorrow, you'll be taken to the hall, where you'll train with the priests and priestesses."

~~~

Later that day, there was a knock on the door.

A handmaiden came in and placed a white waxed linen dress on the bed. She explained to her about how to get to the dining room, and then left.

Lyssa put on the dress, and went downstairs to dinner.

She turned right at the hall, and right again.

In a large room, several men were gathered, drinking from gold goblets.

Lyssa was relieved that there were only a few people. She was never one for big parties, yet her father always had the biggest, and always insisted that she entertain.

The stone room was small, though charming. It had a large fireplace and a long table that could have seated twenty. Tapestries hung on the walls, and statues stood in every corner of the room. A large wood and iron chandelier hung from the ceiling.

The Primas were a clean and elegant looking people. They were tall and slender, with each of them standing at about six and a half feet, with waist length blond to red hair, pale skin and eyes.

They each wore simple linen tunics with gold belts and gold jewelry.

Of them all, only one blond man stood out. Aesthetically, he looked like the others, but his eyes were as red as Von's. He stood about a foot taller than the others, and his shoulders were also twice the width.

Lyssa knew he must have been a mighty warrior, probably the strongest man she'd ever seen.

One man with long light brown hair and blue eyes walked up to her.

"I'm Stelar. I'm a priest up on the hall. Come, I will introduce you to the others."

The men were extremely polite, and made elegant gestures, like nodding their heads, making quiet compliments, and light handshakes.

Their behavior was an extreme contrast to the men of her father's kingdom. Often, to show gratitude, loyalty and enthusiasm, they'd make loud, boastful speeches with over exaggerated body language.

The warrior, whom Stelar introduced as Sestin, looked as though he wasn't one for parties. In his wine colored eyes, she thought she saw disinterest.

Next to the impressive man, stood one who wasn't as striking in stature so much as in stance. He had light auburn hair, and orange eyes that seemed almost fluid. The color seemed to move across his iris, almost like flames danced in his eyes.

"This is General Vidar," Stelar said.

The man with the strange eyes inclined his head toward her. He wore a linen tunic like the others, but he had a mesh duster over his. And on his gold belt, a row of knives hung on hooks that'd been soldered on.

Vidar's skin was smooth and pasty. It was almost the color of dough, except extremely glossy.

"Vidar is from an older race of Primas," explained Stelar. "That is why he looks... different."

"Tell us about your life as a Princess," said the one Stellar introduced as Orlandus. He had long chocolate brown hair and marble blue eyes.

"I'm not a princess. I'm a lady."

"What?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Orlandus, the humans don't honor birth children, unless those who produced them are sanctified by marriage," said Vidar.

Lyssa didn't know if she should be ashamed or what. Being a bastard, in her land, was not a good thing.

Stelar must have heard her thoughts, for he said, "Don't worry, Lyssa. Primas don't understand marriage. When you live forever, being bound to one person is not a wise idea. No, we survive best by mingling. We only started to engage in the practice of marriage recently, when we needed it to help our people – in our attempts to liaison with humans. Still, some of us don't know all the rules of human society."

"Maybe we should marry her off to a powerful king?" offered a white blond man with stone colored eyes.

"Daius, don't be rude," said the warrior, Sestin.

"How am I being rude?"

"I'm not marrying anyone," she said assertively.

"As a lady, you should know better than to say no to a man," said Daius.

Lyssa's temper flared. Never had a man had the gall to talk to her, a lady, in such a way. In her father's palace, he'd surely be jailed.

"You're not my father, and you're not my king. No man will ever dare talk to me like that! You will check yourself, sir, or I will leave, immediately."

"What makes you think we'll let you leave?" he asked.

"Okay, okay," cut in Vidar authoritatively. "Daius, shut it! Let's show our guest respect. Let's remember that she is a lady, not some peasant."

Though Vidar defended her, the men seemed disturbed by her defiance. They gave her scathing looks. Only Vidar and Sestin seemed to look at her with respect.

Finally, a servant came in and told them that dinner was ready.

Lyssa, who was checking the exits, and contemplating her chances for escape, wasn't paying attention.

Vidar, taking notice, said abruptly to her, "Why don't you sit next to me?"

He grabbed her hand and dragged her to a place at the table. Though she tried to resist, he was too powerful for her.

Dinner was a dull affair.

Lyssa kept looking at all the exits, but it was just impossible. The stone rooms were impenetrable. She would just have to fight her way out, and these men were strong.

Inwardly, she cursed herself. The minute her mother started speaking of her initiation, she should have run.

The men asked her about her studies. They expected that she'd be learned in music and literature, and even asked her play a lyre for them.

Her father had tried to pawn her off, using these same qualities. For that, she despised them and focused on fighting.

"When you're taken up to the hall, you'll do chores. You'll work side by side with the women. Just because you're royalty, doesn't mean you'll be treated specially. When you've passed all your exams, and we see that you're fit, you'll be fully initiated. You can't fail. We expect you to fulfill your obligations as a lady," said one of the men over dessert, whose name she'd forgotten.

"For the hundredth time, I'm not going up the mountain. I only came here to see my mother," she threw down her fork, and left the dining room.

She ran through the confusing castle walls, looking for the exit when several Prima guards ran at her from down the hall.

Lyssa tried to outrun them, but they were too fast. One picked her up, easily, carried her to her room and locked her in.

The next morning, a maid knocked on the door at sunrise. She left a simple tunic for her to wear.

Fifteen minutes later, a guard knocked on the door.

"Are you dressed, miss?"

"Yes," she said.

He unlocked the door.

In he walked with manacles and chains, which he cuffed her with and then escorted her, forcefully, down the stairs.

He dragged her onto a wood platform, where a group of men and women were gathered.

The men and women looked to be about her age, while some were younger and some slightly older.

All the men and women suddenly gasped, as the platform was lifted, by invisible force, into the sky.

Several minutes later, they'd passed through a thick cloud layer and landed on evergreen icicled grass.

Above the clouds, the sun shone brightly. And the air was extremely moist.

Stelar who appeared to have flown on his own, suddenly landed in front of them on the grass.

He unlocked Lyssa's manacles, and warned her to behave.

They followed him through the castle gates, which opened automatically and shut behind them.

They walked across a few yards of grass. On the right side of the city was an enormous bridge over a large koi pond.

Up the city entrance they went, and then followed cobble stone roads diagonally to the city's center.

In the center was an even larger stone castle. The doors opened and Stelar beckoned them in.

The castle air was rent with the delicious smell of pork.

Stelar led them down a dimly lit stone corridor to a dining hall.

Up on the dais, he turned around and spoke.

"Please, sit anywhere you like. This is a breakfast feast. It is our way of welcoming you. Good luck, initiates. May your endeavors, here, lead you and us to lengthy prosperity."

Lyssa chose a seat amidst several fair men and women. They said nothing to her, and hardly any words to each other. In fact, none of them looked overly happy about being there.

They had a grand breakfast of pork, cheese, bread and wine. They even had Mediterranean apples and figs. Lyssa had never seen such a big basket of oranges, of which she ate as many as she could.

After, Stelar led them all to their dorms.

In the back of the city, there were three large stone properties. The estate in the center, said Stelar, belonged to General Vidar. The one on the left was for the women, and the one on right was for men.

He, then, instructed them to find rooms, and meet them back in the city center for instruction.

She walked to the ladies dorm.

Inside was a plain common room, with a large Persian rug and fireplace. Pillows were strewn everywhere. In the corner, clay jugs of water sat.

Lyssa walked upstairs and picked a room at front of the hall. If she were to plan an escape, it would be the perfect spot to monitor the others movements.

But how was she going to escape? She asked herself. She couldn't fly, like the Primas.

Lyssa set her things on the bed.

"Hi," said a girl, who was already there.

"Hey," she replied. Looking around the room, Lyssa asked, "What is all this stuff?"

On the mantle was a black book that had been bound with skin. On the front, etched in gold, were the words Necro-Grimoire.

"Spells for the Dead?" she looked at her in disgust.

Next to the book lay a wood cup. On both sides of the book and cup were dark grey candles that'd been burnt half way down.

"Some things from home," the girl said.

On the wall in some sort of black ash, Lyssa recognized the symbol of an inverted pentagram.

"Are you a witch?" she asked.

"One of the very last."

"Show me your power."

"Leap off a cliff," said the girl. "I'm not your personal joker."

"Sorry," she said. "I just heard... things."

When the girl didn't reply, she said, "I'm Lyssa."

"I'm Gwynna," said the girl.

"What's it like?"

"Why does everyone ask me that?" She looked annoyed. "I'm human, just like everyone else."

"That's not what my governess says. She says witches can call the rain, and the spirits; that they can even curse people. Is it true?"

They walked back to the city center, together.

Gwynna was a nice girl, though she had a strange way of speaking and thinking. When Lyssa told her she couldn't wait to leave Valhol, she told her that her time hadn't come yet.

Lyssa responded by asking how she knew what her times was? Gwynna said the wind told her.

The other girls seemed to want to keep as much space between them and Gwynna as possible. Lyssa couldn't figure out why, but she liked being with Gwynna because she wasn't pressured to interact with the others. She didn't want to get more involved with the Primas than she already was. Being Gwynna's friend helped her keep her distance, while not being completely alone.

That day, Lyssa went to several lessons before being introduced to the Elder she'd be serving. His name was Meilic.

"Everyday, you will start with bringing me my breakfast," he said. "After, you may breakfast, yourself, then you will clean my lodges, and feed my wolf."

In the corner of the room, an animal that was larger than a dog, with the thickest coat of white hair she'd ever seen, laid.

Their teacher was a lady named Rass. She taught most of the lessons, though Stelar taught them sacred rites.

Over the next few months, Lyssa learned Prima traditions and folklore: How the first Prima rose from the water. How they were once sea creatures who'd evolved. How they, themselves, were gods and worshipped no one.

They even wrote extensive papers on the subject of Primas, and were verbally quizzed in front of each other.

The only day off they got was every tenth day, when they were expected to scrub the castle from floor to floor.

As the months went by, occasionally, they'd get to go down the mountain; all except for Lyssa. Stelar was an excellent mind reader. He knew she wanted, desperately, to escape.

"Lyssa," he said to her one day. "You are more valuable than anyone here. Soon, you will be one of us, forever. I hope you'll sincerely join us, be on our side. We need you. You don't realize how much power you could have with us, Prima, if only you'd work with us."

She heard him, and even felt soft for his argument. But she wouldn't join any group that intended to marry her off, like a foreign gift exchange. Not even her father forced that upon her.

Lyssa didn't see her mother again until Yuletide. Though several times, she thought she felt her presence near.

She stood in a red tunic across the way.

"Lyssa, how are things on the hall?"

"Great."

She kissed her on the cheek, and gave her a gold goblet.

"I hear you'll be going through initiation soon."

When Lyssa didn't reply, she continued, "Lyssa, don't you want to join us? To be with us? We may be desperate, but most humans would love to have the power that we have. Think of the good you could do."

In the corner, she saw Lucenzus. He smiled and came up to say hi.

Lyssa still felt rejected, but decided to let it go. She couldn't be angry when he smiled so genuinely at her.

Her mother smiled at them, and allowed him to take her to dance.

Later that night, they retired to their dorms.

When she heard footsteps in her room, she assumed it was Gwynna. But then the person pulled her from under her covers, and bound her.

She was dragged into the cold night air, and pushed down onto her knees in grass.

Sensing there were several others there, too, she realized that it was her initiation.

Stelar's voice came over them.

"On this night, we welcome you to our clan. You are, now, one of us. You will bow before no gods, because you are gods. With each day, you'll work for the Prima cause, which is the preservation and prosperity of our people."

Then all went silent. She heard steps moving across the grass.

The footsteps moved in front of her. Someone pushed a cup into her hand.

She drank, deeply, and fell over.

The others moaned and screamed, as the blood worked its way through their system, changing them.

Lyssa, being half Prima, seemed to have more of a tolerance for the blood. There was a pain in her gut, but mostly she hallucinated. She saw rainbows dance across her lids, and imagined that she was floating in the ocean; gold cups floated around her.

When she woke, she was in her bed again. She was hot and sweaty, and her blankets and pillows were on the floor.

Gwynna was in bed, looking like she'd had a tough night as well.

Lyssa needed to feel the cool air. It was just so warm in her room.

When she stepped out into the light, her eyes recoiled.

Everything looked clearer. There were cracks in the cobble stones that she couldn't see before. The sound of clouds moving around her was deafening.

She walked through the city, examining and listening to everything. The touch of the stone was different, too. It felt rougher than before.

At the koi pond, she walked up on the bridge and looked into the water. The way it moved was fluid but solid. She'd never noticed how water had mass, like a plant or an animal.

"Hi, Lyssa."

She turned.

Her mother stood there, looking at her with a smile.

"I've been waiting for you to wake," she said.

She walked closer and said, "I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. You are every bit the lady I'd hoped to have."

Even her mother looked different. Her skin, which looked so resilient and bright before, now looked even brighter.

Lyssa smiled, and turned back to the pond. Little fish spawn floated in the water. It was also something she'd never have seen before.

"Lyssa, look at me."

"I'm sorry if I'm off. It's the blood, it's changing me. Everything looks different, and smells different."

"I've come to say goodbye."

"What?" she burst.

She turned to face her.

"I'm going to rest."

"Why?" she asked incredulously.

"I'm old, Lyssa. It's something I've planned for a while, now."

"I don't get it. You talk about saving your race, and here you are, dropping out of the fight."

"I'm tired. There's nothing else I can say. I've been aware three times longer than the average Prima. When I was young, we owned the Earth; that was seven thousand years ago. I've never taken a rest, ever. Not even for a decade because I've been fighting to save our race."

"What do the Elders say?"

"They're alright with it, though some are disappointed."

"So how does this work?"

"Vidar gave me a designation. It's a secret; I won't tell you where. I'm going there, and I'll go to sleep. But I'll be aware for years to come. You'll feel me, and maybe even talk to me, as my consciousness may roam the Earth, occasionally."

"What do you mean by you'll be aware for years to come? Are you saying that you're going to die, eventually?"

"No, we don't die, Primas. We just go into unconsciousness, some never to return."

Lyssa's eyes became moist; her face hot.

"Mother, how could you? You're selfish! We haven't even had a conversation since I arrived. We haven't had time..." but she cut her off.

"Lyssa, you're not the only one in the world to lose someone prematurely. You'll survive. You're a Prima now. The Elders want you to move into the castle. You'll be taken care of."

Lyssa's throat tightened. She opened her mouth to speak, but choked instead.

Her mother pulled her into a tight hug, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Please, don't go. Not yet!"

But she ascended into the clouds.

"Wait!" she yelled, but she'd gone.
Unfinished Business

Chapter 5

That night was to be the second night of initiation. Stelar was to pass around the concoction that corrected the effects of the Prima blood.

Lyssa just couldn't do it. She was too consumed with the idea that, once more, she faced a life alone.

But she didn't know that for sure, she told herself. What if her brother still lived?

She didn't leave her room that day, though Gwynna tried to urge her. She brought her food, but it remained untouched.

Finally, Stelar came to visit.

"Starr," he said timidly.

"Go away."

"I can't. You need to take your serum. It's a three step process, and I can't administer it here."

"I don't want the serum. I want you to go away."

"I can't," he said urgently. "You're not supposed to be here. The Elders want you down in the castle below, in Valhala. And we're gonna need this room for new initiates, who are due to arrive any day now."

When she said nothing, he added, "Plus, if you don't take the serum soon, the Prima blood might make you crazy. We'll, then, have to destroy you."

Lyssa wasn't paying attention. Ever since she'd turned, she'd been hearing voices from below, but also in faraway lands. It was almost as if the blood awakened dormant powers she never knew she'd had.

Stelar, reading her mind, said," Lyssa, come with me. You need your serum, now. The blood is making you crazy. You must shut out the voices."

But Lyssa ran out of the room, and took off into the twilight air.

~~~

She landed in front of a statue, sometime that evening. It was her father.

The vision she'd had while Stelar spoke to her was of the King slashing his throat.

Hunger tore at her insides, but she ignored it.

Voices echoed around her. Some were even talking about her father. Somehow, she knew that his body was in a tomb on the other side of the city.

She took off into the air again.

This time when she landed, a man was laying a wreath on the tomb. The smell was so fragrant unlike anything she'd smelled before. Of course, Lyssa realized that it was the Prima blood heightening her senses.

The man turned and looked at her in surprise.

"Oh, I didn't hear you come up," he said, putting his hand on his chest.

The man said something else to her, but she couldn't hear because the beat of his heart was so loud.

His skin gave off a scent that reminded her of a roast her father had, some years ago. Only the man smelled different, better, luscious and sweet, yet with the salt from his glands.

Suddenly, the man screamed and ran off. Something he saw while looking at her face scared him.

As he ran, his scent trailed fragrantly behind him. He was afraid, and his fear was invigorating to her.

Curiously, she followed that scent, wondering how it could be so wonderful. How could a filthy human be capable of such sweetness?

Her footsteps were fast, for although the man ran, she still managed to catch up to him as she walked slowly.

They stopped in front of a clay hut with a straw roof.

Lyssa heard his thoughts. They were at his home.

"Please," she heard the man plead.

She leaned into him, putting one of her hands around his neck, and pulled him into her.

Lyssa ran her nose and lips up and down his neck, and even licked his face. She wanted more of the taste that fear put off from the man.

Her new instinct controlled her. She put her mouth on his neck, feeling her teeth pierce his skin.

She dragged her fangs down his neck, ripping a jagged line through his skin so the blood could run freely.

Sucking the man made every cell in her body come to life. A tingling sensation traveled up and down her back; it was almost an erotic feeling.

She heard a woman walking toward them, but Lyssa drank and drank. She couldn't put him down until the woman screamed blood curdling.

Lyssa heard voices and thoughts around her, wondering who and why someone was screaming.

She dropped the man, ran to the woman and broke her neck.

When she fell to the ground, her head slammed onto a small rock that stuck out of the ground. The flesh of her scalp was sliced clean across. Pink flesh peeked out at her.

Lyssa bent down and tasted it. It was better than anything ever.

Although she told herself to stop, she couldn't. She started wolfing down the woman's scalp, hair and all.

When she'd consumed it all, she grabbed the small rock and struck it at her head, cracking the woman's skull. She pounded it again and again, until her brain revealed itself.

Lyssa ripped out the brain, and bit deeply. She relished the sweet yet salty taste, the spongy texture on her tongue. She even swallowed down the woman's spinal cord and nerve endings.

She was in such a feeding frenzy that she didn't realize she was surrounded by men.

One tried to pull her off, but he might as well have been pulling a pig out of slop. There was no way he could separate her from her meal.

Someone stabbed her with a large knife.

It woke her from her frenzy. She looked down and shrieked at the sight of the blade sticking through her gut.

A pair of hands grabbed her, but she was in too much shock to resist.

Suddenly, she was being ushered somewhere, but she didn't know where.

Next thing she knew, they were in a grass clearing. One of the men pulled the blade from her gut, and swung it at her neck, severing her head.

Although her head lay separate from her body, she could still see the sky and the stars.

She screamed even louder.

The sound of sifting dirt came to her ears; one of the men was digging a hole.

A pair of hands picked her head up and threw her in the hole. Another placed a wide wooden stake at the place where her heart was, and pounded it with a mallet, barring her to the ground. Then they covered her with dirt, as she cried.

She wasn't buried long before she passed out.
More about the series:

Lost and want to play catch up?

Visit the Vampin Box Set for Year One, books 1-9.

Vampin Year 2 Series to Date:

#10 Primordial

#11 Valhol

#12 Road to Heaven

#13 LYSSA

#14 Gwynna (Scheduled for Release 2012)

Originally a monthly short with the Black Press Online, Vampin is now available as a monthly teen series. For all questions and comments, please contact ladysonoma@americamail.com

