 
Terra Incognita: The Abyss

By Joshua Mays

Copyright 2011 Joshua Mays

Smashwords Edition

I want to dedicate this book to Joellynn Bolen, an amazing woman who made all of this possible. Without her, I never would have started on this path

If you enjoy this book, please help me out by leaving a review on Amazon, and be sure to look out for other releases in the Terra Incognita series!

Chapter One

His shin hit hard against the splintered wood as his foot broke through the floor, causing pain to race up his leg. It took a few seconds for the stinging to subside and a few more for him to regain his composure. With a crack, he pulled his foot from the hole, bringing rotted pieces of floorboard up with it. Anger rose in his throat as all the small moments of his past compounded into one.

"God damn this house!" Benjamin Harking yelled, holding his leg, wincing.

He hated this house, and this new incident only gave him more reason to feel that way. Everything in his life had changed, and this place stood only as a reminder of how unhappy he was. He felt more alone here than he ever had in his entire life. This wasn't a home for him, but rather a simple residence. It was nothing more than an unbecoming place to get mail—not that he ever got mail. His parents had forced him to move here, and then shipped him off to boarding school before he could get comfortable.

"Some Christmas vacation this is," he said, getting up, and dusting himself off.

Ben looked down and saw that his leg had a bit of blood on it. Shifting his jeans, he pulled the pants leg up to get a better look at the wound. The wood had clawed up his skin, leaving its mark. Getting up, he walked back down the stairs and got some alcohol for his cut. He dabbed it on and cringed as it burned away the bacteria. After putting away the first aid kit, he saw the letter his mother had left him. It sat on the counter still open, taunting him with its emotionless message.

"Sorry we couldn't be home for your return from school. Your father got called away to the city for business. We will see you soon. Merry Christmas - Mom"

Charles, their butler, had left it out on a silver platter for him to find when he got home. After the long bus ride he was famished, so it didn't take him long to discover it sitting in the kitchen. Coming home to an empty house was one thing, but this was something else. They had already missed his sixteenth birthday, and now they were going to miss Christmas as well.

Things had changed, and in Ben's opinion, it wasn't for the better. His father receiving a major promotion was great, but it didn't take long for things to become unrecognizable. The mansion was so large that his father could hide for days, and all the money seemed to make his mother think she was a different person. She did everything she could to fit in with the other wives. Ben was proud of his father for making partner at his firm, but it was just too much, too fast.

Feeling tired, he decided to head up to his room and call it a night. As he passed the hole in the second floor landing, he peaked down into it, expecting to see the vast expanse of basement below. Instead, he saw a small concrete room that didn't appear to have a door. It was almost empty except for a desk and some stuff stored up in the corners. It was cramped and dusty, but the treasure trove of unknown items stirred up his curiosity. With little else to do, the prospect of exploration was enticing. He ran up to his room and returned with a long black flashlight. He clicked it on and shined it into the hole to scan the room under the floor. The beam didn't reveal a door, but he did see something resting on the desk itself. It looked like a large, dusty book.

With a slight shift, he migrated the light until something else came into view. There, grasping the book, was a skeletal hand, and attached to that, a corpse, withered to nothing but bone. Shocked, the boy sat there for a moment with the light fixed on the book and the bones. His eyes wide with fear.

After the initial shock and fear subsided, Ben jumped up and rushed through the kitchen to the basement door with a newfound wonder in his eyes. His boring Christmas vacation alone had just become an enticing adventure.

This room was an utter mystery to him considering the fact that Charles had shown him around the house. The tour he received when they moved had encompassed the attic, all three floors, and the cellar. There was never any mention of a hidden chamber in the basement. After rushing through the basement door and reaching the bottom of the polished wooden stairs, he surveyed the area, looking for any clue that could help him get into the room. The walls were white and branched out into a maze of hallways connecting to old servant quarters that hadn't been used in years. If it hadn't been for Charles, most of the corners would be covered in spider webs and dust.

As he searched, his imagination began to go wild. Why was there a skeleton in his house? How long had it been boarded up, and what was that strange book? This was the most excited he had been in quite a while. In a single instant, his angst had turned into something else. The possibilities almost took his mind off his parents not being around when he got home, or how much things had changed in his life when they were supposed to stay the same. Too many unkept promises had made him bitter. He tried his best not to think about how excited his dad would have been, helping him look for this hidden treasure. There was a time when this sort of thing would have brought them together.

It only took a few moments for Ben to find a place in the wall that didn't look right. It had a door-sized spot that upon close examination appeared to be painted an off-white color that didn't quite match the rest of the wall. It was hidden in a shadowy corner away from the rest of the rooms, under the stairs. He stood there for a moment running his hands up and down the area, trying to figure out a way to get in. It wasn't long before a single, brilliant idea dawned on him. It was simple, but it could possibly land him in some serious trouble.

The thoughts of any ramifications dissolved into the ether as he ran to the other side of the basement. The door into his father's workroom hit the wall as he forced it open and rushed through. Coming to a halt, Ben stood there for a moment, looking around, examining every inch. Tools of all shapes and sizes hung from the pegboard that lined the walls. His search ended as his eyes rested upon a cherry-red fire ax. Dad, like most men, loved his toys, but never had time to use them. This one in particular was brand new. With a smile on his face, Ben knew he was going to enjoy ruining its nice red finish.

Back at the wall with the hidden doorway, he hesitated, considering what he was about to do. The ax felt heavy in his hand, but the excitement and the rush made the weight less noticeable..

If Ben had known what this act of defiance would lead to he wouldn't have gone through with it. Instead, he would have put the ax back up on the wall and walked away, willing to finish his mediocre evening without protest.

As it was, Ben was clueless. A bus-sized grin gripped his cheeks and he lifted the ax over his head and brought it down against the wall.

Chapter Two

The debris of splintered wood and chipped paint rested on the floor in a chaotic pile beneath Ben's feet. Standing there, peering into the dark concrete chamber, he felt a sense of triumph. From above, a single pillar of light broke through the hole in the ceiling where Ben's foot had first gone through and illuminated a small spot on the floor. A collection of crates and boxes cluttered the walls, creating an empty circle in the middle of the room. The desk he had seen rested against the far wall, obscured by the darkness. Layers of dust had collected on everything and the air was hazy from the sudden disturbance he had created. He waited for a minute as the air was taken over by a stale snowstorm of gray powder.

Ben tried to fight off a sneeze as he stepped in, but failed. The beam from the flashlight lit up the flurries as they fell and found their place on every surface. Ben illuminated the room in portions as he inspected the different containers, reluctant to search the desk with the skeleton next to it. Some were filled with strange stone artifacts that were surrounded by packing straw and others were filled with books and other peculiar odds and ends. It was obvious that each item was very old, and most of them looked like they belonged in a museum. Excitement began to build even higher in his chest as he rummaged through the trove of interesting items, trying his best not to look toward the skeletal corpse.

Each box offered up new excitement until at last he was forced to inspect the desk. He lifted his gaze to the book and then to the decayed body. Ben stared, enthralled by the macabre scene. The skeleton was seated in a chair, leaning against the wall. Its flesh and clothing had rotted away years ago, leaving nothing more than fossil from a previous age. A chill ran up Ben's spine as he inched closer to the disturbing sight. Ben had never seen a dead body before, but for some reason the bones inspired a scientific curiosity in him, rather than filling him with terror the way they did when he watched horror films. To stay anchored, Ben ran his fingers across the top of the desk, leaving long tracks in the thick dust.

He stood by the bones, lost in thought, until his hand came to rest on top of the book inches from the skeleton's boney hand. It was a huge leather-bound tome, much larger than any he had seen before. Bibles with annotations would have a hard time achieving the same mass as this ancient manuscript. The cover had a strange bronze emblem on it and the leather was cracked, giving it a sinister look. Ben marveled at it until he was pulled away by his own curiosity again. Books were interesting, but the bones had a story to tell that was much more chilling.

Crouching down, Ben came face to face with the skull and stared deep into its hollowed-out eyes. The black abyss before him reflected nothing but the emptiness of death, which was more disheartening than the body itself. In its creaky hand, dangling below the desk, was an antique revolver, gripped tight, finger against the trigger. In the other, resting atop the massive tome, was a black notebook, untouched by the hand of time. Still crouched there, Ben grabbed it and watched as the hand fell to pieces. The small bones fell to the floor as he opened the little book and flipped through it until he reached the last page.

The myths were all true; the book is in fact evil incarnate! It has taken me months of research and study, but I have finally proven that it is the ill fated Ala Azif. Why have I been so cursed as to actually find the damned thing? Of course, I went looking for it, but we all thought it was just a myth. That it was nothing but a simple idea that would occupy our small minds and fat wallets. But here it is... in my possession, and here I am with a gun in my hand. The same gun that I plan to end my life with before the book can completely take me. If you let it, it will take everything you have just to watch you squirm as your life collapses around you. Your life and your dreams are forfeit the second you open this book and your reality will no longer belong to you but instead to the sleeping gods that helped to write the damnable thing.

I sit here in my house writing this with nothing else in the world. My family is dead; taken from me by mysterious circumstances. I can't help but shake the feeling that the book was the source of their demise. If I told anyone this though, I would surely be locked in a padded cell where corrupt doctors would perform horrible experiments on me until I became truly insane. So instead I will join my poor family in the hereafter and hope that God has mercy on my soul despite my meddling with demonic things. Do not open this book, for it is a harbinger of evil and destruction. All will be lost...

Franklin

Ben frowned. "Suicide, huh?"

Ben stood up with the journal in his hand and examined the skull. There was a large hole connecting the mouth to the back of the head where the bullet had passed through and entered the wall, leaving a hole in the concrete. He felt kind of gross touching the remains now and pulled his hand away. Distancing himself, he returned to the mammoth book on the desk and looked down on it with intent. Dust flew into the air as he expelled a huge breath and blew on the top. The depth of the brown leather became apparent and the emblem proved to be more intricate than he could determine previously. With his fingers, he traced the interlacing lines and circles of the cold bronze design until they rested on the latch. Hesitation caught his hand as he thought about the warning the letter had left him. How serious could it be? It was just a book, after all. Taking a deep breath, and deciding to disregard the ominous message, he turned the lock. The latch popped open with a click and fell to the table.

With curiosity gripping him, Ben had to see what this man had killed himself over. Superstition and belief had fascinated him since a young age, and it showed on his bookshelf. Thoughts of a childhood full of old archaeology texts and watching television specials with his dad crowded his mind. He placed the flashlight down on the table and reached for the book.

The hard cover hit the table with a loud clap. Each yellowed page sounded like it was torn from the book as he turned them with slow deliberate motions. With every turn, he found a wealth of interesting images and symbols.

His eyes widened as he skimmed over unknown languages and drawings. Some of the pictures depicted abnormal creatures while others portrayed autopsies on human and animal remains, as well as rituals he didn't understand. He had turned through only a handful of the book's pages when one page caught his eye more than the rest. Scrawled across the ancient paper was a symbol that held his gaze, fixing his attention until he was lost in a trancelike state.

The image seemed to pulse as he looked at it, drawing him further in until something began to creep into the back of his mind. At first it was a simple sound that was almost inaudible, but then it rose into a soft murmur that grew louder until it was like a chant, roaring in his head. An image flashed behind his eyes, and it was in that moment that he knew what he had to do next.

Walking over to the bones, Ben grabbed the loose fingers from the floor and laid them out on the desk. As if sleepwalking, he made his way over to the crates and searched until he found a ceramic mortar and pestle. He put the finger bones in the bowl and, with the cream-colored tool; he ground them to meal and then dumped the remains into his hand. With words unknown to him on his lips, he blew the contents of his hand into the air.

The bone meal dispersed into a cloud and then began to come back together to form the outline of a body. First the arms and legs took shape, then the torso, and finally, the head came into view. A white silhouette stood there examining its own existence for a moment before looking at Ben. Its features were mere representations of the face they once defined and its look of perplexity was nothing more than a movement of the powder.

"Why does this place hurt so?" it asked in a shaken, ethereal voice that had a disturbing echo to it.

Chapter Three

Pulled out of his trance, but aware of his actions, Ben stood without a word. There, within a few feet of him, was a ghost—a ghost that he had summoned. Frozen by his own accomplishment, Ben tried to take in the impossible and accept what had just happened. The man before him—who could be none other than Franklin—examined his new state for a moment before turning his attention back to the stunned boy.

"I was somewhere else, somewhere... more peaceful. Why have you brought me back to this place?" he asked. Despite its faded visage, Ben could still make out the feelings of pain and disgust scrawled across the ghost's face.

"I don't know," Ben stammered, fumbling the words as they past his lips. "The book drew me in and next thing I knew, I was grinding up your bones and then watching you appear." Speaking the words made the action manifest in his mind as reality. Suddenly, his chest tightened and Ben felt like he couldn't breathe. The ghost saw the panic on his face and took an unwitting step forward, causing Ben to take two quick steps back with his hands out. The scared boy felt the cool concrete press against his back. Stuck in the corner with the ghost in front of him, Ben knew there was no more retreat. With no other options, he sat down, tightening himself into a ball.

A cacophony of negative thoughts assaulted Ben's mind as he watched the shade approach him. Lost in a second that churned on forever, he did what he could to hold on to his personal strength and sanity. His palms turned to liquid as he tightened the grip on his arms and pulled his legs closer to his chest. Ben didn't know whether to cry or laugh as the shade inched closer to him. As the pressure built and became overwhelming, he finally exploded in a scream.

"Stop!" he said, halting Franklin where he stood. "Just stop! Give me a second to breathe; to think." He forced the words out under duress. Ben took a deep breath and expelled it in one slow exhale. As the feeling in his arms began to return, bringing the sensation of needles in his hands and fingers, he realized how numb they had become. "I'm sorry, the book...I didn't mean to."

"The book?" the ghost asked, with a distraught look. "The Ala Azif? Please, tell me that's not the book you speak of."

"Please don't hurt me," Ben said.

The ghost floated over to the open book and looked down at the page exposed before him. "I don't think I could even if I wanted to," he said, with his hand pushed through the tome. The bone meal that gave him form collected on the page in a pile as he reached through it. When he pulled back, his hand took its gray shape again. He held it up to his face and examined it with newfound curiosity.

"My name is Franklin. I wrote this journal," he said, pointing at the small notebook on the desk. "Did you not read my warning? Or were you just too cynical to take it to heart?" The ghost looked at the cowering boy and frowned. "I have no intention of hurting you. Please, stand."

Ben looked up, desperate to believe what Franklin was telling him. Forcing the fear and worry away, he stood with reluctance, hoping the immediate threat was gone. With one hand on the wall behind him at all times, he stared at the unthinkable before him.

"I promise I won't hurt you," the ghost said, his voice low and slow as if trying to bring the boy some amount of comfort. Keeping his distance, Franklin paused, seeing that the boy was terrified.

"You said you were in pain. What did you mean by that?" Ben asked. His voice lacked confidence, but his own curiosity had won out, forcing the words past his lips.

"Yes, existence is painful indeed. It's been a very long time since I've felt anything and now, here I am. It seems dramatic, but I feel like a newborn, thrust into the world of feelings again. When you are used to death, life becomes...painful," Franklin said.

The words bore an unwavering truth that struck home with the boy. "It's my fault, isn't it?" Ben asked. The sadness in his voice was more prevalent than the fear. His own anxiety was now replaced by the sorrow he felt for the suffering being before him.

"It's done, and I don't think there is anything we can do about it. The book has chosen you, like it chose me," Franklin said.

This comment stuck with Ben, causing him to let his guard down a little more. "What do you mean?"

"As I'm sure you understand now, this book is more than just ink on paper. It's a powerful manuscript filled with all the darkest magic known to man. It was written by a man who traveled his entire life searching through every profane crevice he could find in order to discover the black secrets of the world. It has power beyond measure..." Franklin's voice faded as he trailed off into thought.

"Anyway," Franklin said, snapping back, "I found it in the year nineteen eleven, while on an expedition through Eastern Europe. We learned of a cult called Tento Stary Múdrosti living in a small village near the Carpathian Mountains. They believed in sleeping gods and a cosmic consciousness that we are all tapped into. They used blood and sacrifice to perform the magic of the ancient gods they worshiped. Their rituals were grotesque and inhumane, to say the least. In our studies we learned of a book they used in their rituals; it was said to be older than any known manuscript. After many years of scouring the globe in search of a clue, the body of a man named Daniel Stevens was found with a journal. We didn't think anything of it until the coroner's exam was released. Demonic symbols were carved into Daniel's skin, and we were asked to help the police understand what those symbols meant. They gave us the journal willingly and to our surprise, it gave us all the information we needed to find the village and begin our stakeout."

"How can a book be evil?" the boy asked.

"I don't know, but I have felt its power, and it was worth killing myself to keep it hidden away," the ghost said with a stern look on his face.

"I'm sorry. If I had known I wouldn't have come down here," Ben said.

"Of course you wouldn't have, but that isn't how it worked out. Now, we have a real problem. I studied the book for years before I finally turned the gun on myself..." Franklin started. The words made both of them pause for a moment, reflecting on the horror of it. Ben was left with a chill that forced an uncontrollable shiver to creep over his shoulders.

"The book spoke of a second world close to this one. A world where things like magic and...ghosts are possible," he said, looking down like it couldn't be true. "This world is the foundation of every myth there is. The stories we know all existed at one time, but were cut off from this world by an unknown event. It's explained that this...schism is the reason we don't see miracles any more, why magic and legendary creatures are no longer present, and mythical heroes aren't more than just stories."

"Please tell me you're kidding," Ben said. This interruption stopped the ghost cold. He looked at the boy in disbelief. "Look, it's hard enough for me to believe in ghosts, but now you're telling me that Hercules and the tooth fairy are real? What's next, Santa Claus?"

"In a manner of speaking, but these are extremes. I didn't believe it at first myself, being an atheist, but then I didn't believe in ghosts either. It's not the iconic images you know that are real, but rather the foundation of the myths. Everything comes from something, Ben."

"Okay, so it's not Hercules that exists there, but rather the person who inspired the story? Is that right?"

"Correct. The schism separated our worlds and as a result humans were freed from the presence of these beings. Free to live their own lives, outside of the influence of these godlike creatures," Franklin said.

"So, this schism; who or what caused it?" Ben asked.

"That question is beyond my understanding. All I know is what I've seen and what I've read in the book. The book, it almost speaks to you," Franklin said as he stared at it with a strange look in his eyes. It seemed to draw him in as Ben stood there watching.

"So, say I choose to believe you. I mean, unless I'm insane, you are a ghost. That isn't something I normally thought was possible," Ben said. His fear had relented a bit, giving him enough confidence to step away from the wall, but not much more than that.

"Its my understanding that the schism was created for a reason; to keep the wonders of the other world away from ours. A doorway has been opened and now you must close it," Franklin said, his eyes still transfixed.

"Why didn't you destroy the book?" Ben said. The accusation in his voice didn't miss its mark.

"You don't think I tried?" Franklin retaliated. The blatant anger was clear on his ethereal face.

"Okay, I'm sorry! So what do we do?" Ben asked. His posture changed, a defeated slouch replacing his confident stance.

"The book discusses the process in great detail. The first thing it says is to find the Sphinx and solve the riddle. When it was my responsibility, I wasn't strong enough to complete this task, and I gave up. I never even tried. After years of searching, I couldn't face the reality of such a creature. I was afraid." Franklin walked back over to the tome. He flipped through the pages, which seemed to be moved by wind rather than his physical touch.

"A Sphinx?"

"The Sphinx is a renowned gatekeeper in mythology. It's no surprise that it would be one here as well. Listen to me! You have a unique opportunity; I can help you. The riddle doesn't have to be solved. The book only says that a sacrifice must be made to stave off the creature's hunger. Do you have a cat, or any other sort of pet?" Franklin asked.

"No, and even if I did, I wouldn't let you feed it to some...creature," Ben said, looking a little horrified.

"Hmm, I don't know then. I guess your only chance is to solve the riddle. It doesn't say much on that—"

"Wait, how do I even find this thing?" Ben interrupted.

"It says here that you go to a high point and search for a dark corner, so thick with shadow that it creates a false sense of depth. Say the word 'Shirak' and then step into it. This should take you to the Phoenix's cave where the Sphinx now resides."

"That doesn't make sense, though, because I haven't stepped into this other world yet," Ben said.

Franklin looked amused by Ben's puzzled look. "No, you haven't, but the book opened the doorway when you unlocked it. It's a force that pulls you in. You felt its grab, didn't you? It drew your attention in until you were powerless to control yourself."

"It was something like that. Summoning you was never my intention, but somehow I knew it was happening. I didn't know what to expect or what I was doing. It was like sleepwalking," Ben said.

The old ghost smiled, as if he could tell that Ben was starting to understand. He pressed on. "You are the keeper of the book now. It's chosen you. It's your duty to..." Franklin trailed off as he read from the book. "To find the rite that will close the other world off from ours."

"That's not right. It can't be that easy," Ben said, walking up to look over Franklin's shoulder.

"You're right, it's not. The book only allowed you to open the doorway in the first place because it wanted to you to. It says right here"—tracing with his finger—"that you have to master the book itself to unlock its secrets."

"This is bullshit! I didn't choose any of this!" Ben erupted.

Franklin turned around and made stern eye contact with the upset boy. "No, you didn't! Unfortunately, you have no choice in this matter, and I think it's time you stopped being a child and got started." The ghost turned back to the book.

Ben was about to say something, but gave up. Instead he turned away from Franklin and the book and walked out of the room. Disbelief was pouring into his mind as he tried to rationalize his situation. The pressure was weighing down on him and he felt like he would snap at any moment. The insanity he faced had no rhyme or reason, leaving him little to hold on to. He tried to find a way out of his predicament but there were no other options available. All he could do was follow the instructions Franklin had given him and hope that it got him out of this situation.

Chapter Four

The long walk up the stairs from the basement was much harder with so much emotional weight resting on his shoulders. He felt bogged down by his dilemma and didn't know what to do. Standing in the massive foyer, Ben examined the long haul up the three flights of stairs to the attic—the highest point he knew of without getting on the roof. He hadn't been up there in awhile because the room itself was unsettling, a cramped space that had a way of capturing shadows, despite the lights that hung from the ceiling.

"This is so stupid," he thought, rationalizing that he had become deranged and this was just some manifestation of boredom seeping its way to the surface. The idea of being insane left him feeling even more scared. Without looking at the hole in the floor, he rushed up the stairs toward his room on the second floor. Denial was his only shield from what was happening to him.

He slammed his bedroom door shut and rested upon it for a moment, catching what breath he could. The click of the lock calmed him enough that he finally abandoned the false safety of the wooden barrier and went over to his cluttered desk. Yanking out the chair, he sat down in front of the computer monitor and hit the power switch. While it warmed up, he picked up the phone and dialed his mother's cell number. Pulling the receiver up to his ear, he waited with little patience for a few moments before giving up on the silence. He tried a few more times before throwing it. The plastic shattered into pieces against the wall and rained down onto the carpet. Throwing the phone didn't offer him much comfort, but it allowed him to blow off some steam.

"Where are you when I need you?" he asked out loud.

The computer beeped with confidence, grabbing Ben's attention. Using the mouse, he clicked on the little earth icon to pull up the Internet. Four windows opened up at once, but each one had the same bad news. With no connection, he had lost complete contact with the outside world. The crushing realization that he was alone came down on him all at once. Crying wasn't the best course of action, but it had become an option. Scared and alone, he sat at his desk, trying to figure out what to do. Going backwards wasn't possible, and if there was any hope of getting out of this, forward seemed to be his only choice. Stuck to his chair, Ben sat there weighing all the possibilities in his head. This proved to be an impossible task and finally he gave in.

Opening his desk drawer, he pulled out a small medallion with a three legged crow on it. He measured the weight of it in his hand as he thought about his grandfather and how he had wanted nothing more than to see Ben become a man. They had been friends when Ben was growing up and losing him had been devastating. As he sat there looking down at the symbol engraved on it, he thought about what Grandpa Jack would have done in this situation and how he would act if faced with something so big.

Placing the memento in his pocket, Ben stood up with a newfound vigor and pulled a four-inch pocket knife from the top drawer. It snapped open, fitting with perfect ease against the contour of his palm and fingers. Gripping it like a vice, he walked to the bedroom door and opened it. It took him a moment to make that giant step over the threshold, but once he did, he headed for the stairs without stopping or looking back. With a single thought in his head—"forward"—Ben took each step up, trying to hold on to his flimsy courage.

The attic was strange with all of its abandoned nostalgic treasures hidden away for a lack of better storage. There were so many relics from his life as he passed through the room on his way to the back where the small light bulb's illumination couldn't reach. Like the past itself, these items were sequestered from the present in order to keep the stale memories they evoked at ease. His family had given up on these things in order to continue moving forward with their lives. Pictures and trinkets filled up box after box, creating a maze of wasted sentiment for Ben to maneuver through.

A constant cold breeze hit him in the face as he got closer to his goal. Lurching forward into the darkness itself, Ben could smell the difference in the air. The cool gusts were fresh and brisk, where the rest of the attic seemed stale and sour. The blackness of the corner enveloped him as he shuffled his feet and held out his arms to keep from running into a wall. Something sticky and light touched his arm. With a jerk, he waved his arm to move the substance from his path. Bringing his hand up to his face, he saw that it was covered in a thick layer of webbing. With knife in hand, Ben began to slice the air until he couldn't feel it anymore.

Staring into the static darkness before him, he said the word "Shirak." At that moment, the shadows opened and a small light the size of a coin appeared in the blackness. Taking the medallion from his pocket and clenching it tight, he stepped through the small gap, trying not to trip and fall. After taking a few steps, he noticed the floor had become golden sand. Its beautiful gleam helped him to see as he walked through the cramped passage. The walls began to turn from hard gray stone to brilliant specks of crystal that seemed to catch the light and hold it. Ben took a final step and found himself standing in a large cavern with a high ceiling. Behind him, the light from the attic had disappeared; leaving only the thick void he had just fumbled through.

The tall ceiling was rough and craggy with veins of crystal running across it. Specks of light reflected off the minerals in the rock, creating the look of a starry night across the cave's ceiling. The golden sand on the floor shifted under his feet as he stepped further into the glistening grotto. To his left was a large conical fire that almost reached the ceiling. Its powerful heat was enough to singe the hair off any man's face, but Ben kept inching forward. With his arm up, he approached the intense blaze to investigate the four black dots in the center. There, just inside the flames, were four egg-shaped stones resting in the flames.

"Curious being, the Phoenix," said a voice to Ben's immediate left. He jerked around with knife in hand to look and there, on a ledge at eye level, was a creature with its head tucked under a wing of iridescent feathers. It revealed its feline head as it stretched with its front paws out and its back legs up. The sound of old bones popping and groaning was enough to make Ben cringe. Thin, fine grooves were left in the stone where the creature's claws scraped it with razor sharpness. Ben took a cautious step back, allowing the fire to come between them.

"A-are you the Sphinx?" Ben asked, with a noticeable stutter in his voice. The question was almost rhetorical because its iconic visage could not be mistaken. The creature before him was a beautiful mixture of cat, human, and bird, taking all the best qualities of each. Its regal presence was seen most in how well groomed the beast was. Its feathers were pristine and its fur shone. Ben found his courage waning again as he stood before another impossible being. Each swallow was harder than the last and his heart continued to beat faster and faster. With each thump in his chest, he gripped the medallion a little tighter, using it to give him strength. Its presence in his hand helped him feel grounded and secure.

"The bird lives its life, born from the flame, and then when it's time to give birth, it returns to the flame to incubate its young. They are truly amazing and can be quite tasty if you can catch them between each transformation," the Sphinx said, flashing a toothy grin. It got up and started moving around in catlike fashion. It scratched the fur on its neck against the sharp edge of the wall and purred a bit as it did.

"You didn't answer my question," Ben said, stepping further behind the fire as the Sphinx moved closer. Ben knew that if he could keep the flame between them, he might have a chance at escape if the creature came at him. It wasn't the best plan, but he couldn't think with his heart beating in his ears. Every ounce of free energy was screaming for him to run away, but he held fast, digging his feet into the sand.

"Oh, don't be afraid, and please, put away that tiny knife. I can only eat you if you can't solve the riddle. Would you like to hear the riddle?" it asked with that same devious grin. "You don't seem very bright, so I'm going to offer you another deal. If you can find me a viable substitute, I'll reward you, and not just with your life."

"I need to think for a moment," Ben said, examining the creature with a puzzled look on his face. With a little confidence that it wouldn't attack, he folded the blade up, placed it in his pocket, and began to search the surrounding area for ideas. The only thing that really caught his eye was a blur of sunlight pouring through the entrance of the cave. As he moved toward it, the Sphinx began to follow him, never turning its gaze from the boy. After a few moments of this, they were walking side by side. Still gripped with fear, Ben always kept the creature in his peripheral.

"What's your name?" Ben asked, trying to lighten the mood. The creature paused with a distant look on its face. It was obvious that most visitors didn't entertain such candor with the being.

"I...I'm not sure; it's been so long since I've had visitors and even longer since anyone's asked that, if ever. I seem to have forgotten if I ever even had one to start with. Either way, it's not important to the matter at hand. Now, have you thought about my proposal?" They stepped from the cave and on to a ledge that protruded out about ten feet from the mouth. "I particularly enjoy little puppy dogs."

"I'm still thinking..." Ben said, struck dumb by the amazing sight before him.

They looked out across a massive range of sierras that stretched on past the horizon. Their tall peaks were jagged, like the bent teeth of a busted saw blade, and the ground below was obscured by a blanket of thick clouds. Ben, taken aback by the scene, felt his chest tighten at the sheer height. With an immense sense of awe and a small helping of fear, he stood there watching as creatures with immeasurable wing spans flew across the sky out in the distance.

"How is this possible?" Ben asked.

"How is anything possible?" the Sphinx replied. It preened, as if reveling in its ambiguous response.

The amazing creatures were unlike anything Ben had ever imagined. They were reminiscent of dragons, but with almost no neck and a leathery hide where scales should have been. Their mouths were beaks, ending in sharp points that glistened in the sun every time they shifted in flight. The grace they exhibited was unlike any bird, as they flipped and turned so quickly it was almost too hard to keep up with them. Ben stood there for a moment in silence and watched as the large winged animals soared through the air competing in mock battles, fighting and releasing before any real damage could be done. They were living swords, slicing and jutting through the air as though it were a simple task anyone could complete.

"I've never seen anything like these creatures," Ben said.

The Sphinx looked up at him with a smug smile and asked, "But you've seen something like me before?"

"That's not what I meant. I've seen Sphinx statues before and other creatures in books, but never anything quite like this," Ben said, squinting against the sun. Suddenly, one of creatures took a dive and soared down, landing on a plateau below. He watched as little specks that could only be people approached and bound it with rope. It put up little fight as they captured and restrained it.

"What's that down there?" he asked, pointing. On the plateau were large pointed buildings that were barely visible through the low-hanging clouds. It was an entire city masked by the thick haze that clung to the mountains. The people scrambled to subdue the creature as Ben and the Sphinx watched. They heard a loud screech as the beast was forced into submission.

"Eh, those sorcerers are at it again. It doesn't bother me much though. Those damn wyverns are bothersome and often defecate on my perch here," the Sphinx said. "The sorcerers have tried on more than one occasion to get up here to me, but they always fail. I guess you could call them collectors, or even preservers, but I call them trophy hunters. Granted, they don't kill all the creatures they trap, but that glorified prison isn't much better, if you ask me."

"They want to capture you?" Ben asked.

"Something like that. Now, don't bother yourself with Leng, or those incessant necromancers. They're just a bunch of overly self-important wizards trying to figure out the secrets of the universe. They should know that anything worth knowing can only be learned from a good riddle. Speaking of, there is the matter of my empty stomach at hand and that is a much more pressing issue." The Sphinx turned and made its way back inside the cave. Ben stood there for a moment longer, watching as the other wyverns circled. They flew around as if aware that their friend was being pulled into a building, clawing and screaming for its life. It was a sad sight. Ben decided to turn away before he had to witness any more.

Without a plan, Ben knew he was stalling so he wouldn't have to answer the riddle. There was only one option at this point and that was the Phoenix's eggs. Even though they were surrounded by fire, he had to come up with a way to get one and feed it to his hungry opponent. Shuffling around the room looking for answers, Ben almost tripped over something buried in the sand. There, below him, was a bleached white skull covered with the sparkling granules. Curious, he dusted it off and saw that it was accompanied by even more remains just beneath the surface. It became obvious that these must have been the leftovers from the creature's kills. It was seeing the gnaw marks that gave him an epiphany on how to solve his dilemma.

The Sphinx watched with interest as the boy rushed over to the towering fire. Bending over, he started grabbing the largest handfuls of golden sand that he could. The granules rushed from his palms almost as fast as he could scoop them, cascading back to the ground. Finally, after realizing the futility of his actions, Ben removed his shirt, set it on the ground, and started covering it with sand. Once it was full, he picked the shirt up and dumped the sand over the fire. Its flames were reduced, but not doused. He continued the process, working as fast as he could. As he smothered the blaze, a loud screech emitted from it as though it were a living entity. Within a minute, the sand was turning into glass, making the urgency of his actions more apparent. Thinking fast, he rushed over and procured a bone from one of the Sphinx's unfortunate victims. After dumping even more sand over the fire, he used the bone to push one of the eggs out of the flames, just in time for the glass to melt and the fire to erupt anew. He jerked his hand away, but still felt the searing pain where the heat had hit his flesh.

"Ow," he exclaimed, pulling his hand up by instinct.

"Oh, how fortunate. The flames of the Pheonix are far less forgiving than the heat they put off. They will burn you to the bone within the blink of an eye," the Sphinx said. It approached with a bounce in its step that portrayed the creature's amusement at Ben's misfortune. "How about that riddle now?"

"You said if I fed you, you would reward me," Ben said.

"Did I? I'm not sure I remember that," it said with a mischievous grin.

"Of course, I can't believe I trusted you!" Ben said.

"Brat," it said. "You know how to ruin someone's fun, don't you?" the Sphinx said.

With a wave of its paw, it procured a key from thin air and held it in Ben's face. "Do you want it?" it asked.

"What? After all that all I get is a key?" Ben asked.

Surprised by his reaction and lack of amazement, the Sphinx stepped back. "A key can be very useful for someone in your position. Don't turn your nose up at a gift."

"That isn't a gift. I worked for it, so give it to me," Ben said, stepping forward.

With a snide look, the Sphinx handed it to Ben, making sure to reach out toward his injured hand. Ben looked at the golden metal object for a moment with a quizzical gaze etched upon his face before reaching out and taking it. He winced as it touched his hand, but the pain subsided as he examined it. The prize didn't lived up to his expectations, and it was obvious by the look on his face.

"You look disappointed," the Sphinx said.

"I didn't know what to expect, I guess. I'm gonna leave now. Our business is done," Ben said, taking a backwards step toward the hole he had come through.

"Very well, off with you," the Sphinx said, waving his paw in an irritated manner. Ben put the key in the pocket of his jeans and took off for the exit, not missing a stride. The catlike face betrayed its own curiosity as it wandered over to the egg and with a swipe, cracked open the fragile shell. Ben could hear the sloppy slurping sounds as it tongued at the liquid contents. In a way, he felt bad for what he had done. He couldn't imagine that a Phoenix was the same as a chicken. A heavy feeling came over him, adding to the stress that was already building up.

Chapter Five

Ben stopped at the top of the stairs and thought about what had just happened. There was no real explanation that could even be considered logical. Fear ambushed him as the thought of insanity crept into his thoughts again. Could this be real, or was his mind folding under some unseen pressure in his life? As much as he thought about it, the answer never came. He wanted to cry, overwhelmed by the sensation, but still, he choked back the tears. "If this is real," he thought, "then I have to keep moving forward. It's the only option I have. I can't be crazy...I can't."

After taking the hole back the attic, Ben stood at the top of the stairs looking down. The empty house had a spooky feel to it as he took them on step at a time. At night, there were always weird sounds that his parents attributed to "settling," but the recent events made him wonder. Regardless, there was an apparent change in the atmosphere; was it him, or was this the effect of the key in his pocket? The air was stale and the light coming from the fixtures was dulled, like something was diluting its power. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but everything was different. Like looking into a mirror and seeing the reverse image for the first time. So many questions plagued his mind as he stepped down into the basement. It was best to put them away for now and focus on the task at hand.

When Ben stepped into the secret room below the stairs, he saw Franklin's ethereal form standing in front of a box. His gaze was fixed on a painting that had been stored in one of the crates. Ben walked behind him and saw that it was an oil portrait of a beautiful woman sitting in an elegant gown. She wasn't smiling or frowning, but had a look that reminded him of the Mona Lisa. Her hair was golden brown and her complexion was fair from the thick make up she wore that was typical of her time.

"My beautiful wife," the ghost said. "I can't believe this is still here, but then again, I can't believe this room has been sealed off since I..." His voice trailed off.

"She is very beautiful," Ben said, not sure what else to say.

"I built this house and had this painting done for her thirtieth birthday, so that it would immortalize her beauty forever. Like many women, that was her main concern as she got older. As you can tell, she didn't want for much, as I provided plenty," he said, pointing out the wealth he felt the house represented. "I loved her with all of my heart, but in the end I failed her. If she hadn't died, I never would have gotten mixed up with the book in the first place. Now look at me, trapped between worlds...trapped in this room trying desperately to help you fix my mistake." Then, almost to himself, he said, "For a moment, I actually thought I could use the book to bring her back...like you did to me."

"Trapped?" Ben asked, side stepping his comment.

"Yes, I tried to leave, but every time I get away from the book, I feel my essence dissolving. I fear what may come when you do leave and take the book with you. Who knows what black oblivion awaits?" Franklin said.

"Let's not dwell on that now," Ben said, trying to keep both of their minds off the wretched truth they surely faced. "If what you say is true, then we have no choice but to keep moving forward."

"Yes, you are right," the ghost said, but his face showed his inner struggle as he put the painting back. Ben helped him return it to the crate and covered it with the wooden lid. Ben watched as the ghost did his best to say goodbye to the past. Reluctant to move, Ben gave Franklin a moment to stare at the crate before beckoning him over to the table.

The heavy key clattered against the wood as Ben dropped it from his hand. Still starry-eyed with nostalgia, the ghost snapped out of it as the sound resonated through the room.

"The key..." Franklin said.

"So you knew?"

"Yes. The book only shows you the door, but the key is what will unlock it. The Phoenix's cave was merely the precipice of your journey. You are standing on a cliff, looking at your goal in the distance. Once the doorway is open, you will have to leap into the abyss to get to the other side." As he spoke, Franklin flipped through the pages of the book again.

"I don't understand," Ben said. "Why are we opening the door, if my goal is to close it?"

"Maybe door isn't the right word," Franklin said, turning towards the boy. "The book can be difficult to translate at times. Um... what we must close is a rip between the two realms, a rip that's allowing one world to spill over into the other. The actual door before you is the passageway into the other world, where you will find someone who can teach you about the book."

"Why can't you teach me?" Ben asked.

"Oh, my poor boy, my knowledge is so very limited. I understand only a fraction of what is written, and every time I learn something new, it becomes apparent how little I really know."

Ben ran his fingers through his hair as he let out a low sigh. "Damn," he said.

"So, the abyss?" Ben asked, resigning himself to the task at hand.

"Yes, of course. The separation of the two worlds left a great abyss in its wake. I believe it's there to keep people from coming and going as they please. You will have to cross it in order to find your way into the other world. Once you are there, you will need to find someone who can help you with the book. Someone who can teach you about the spells inside of it."

"But I..." Ben tried to say, but slunk down against the wall instead. "I'm afraid."

"It's okay, son. I'm afraid too," Franklin said, turning away from the book, revealing the sympathy on his face. "There is only forward, remember?"

"Yeah...forward," Ben replied, still reluctant to move. He sat motionless, trying to get a grip on what was happening. Turning back and running away wasn't an option, but he wasn't sure if he could move on. Frozen in place by his own panic, Ben felt his whole body lock down. The anxiety was too great for him to bear, and a tear escaped from his eye. Wiping it from his face before Franklin could see it, Ben did what he could to seem stronger than he was.

Franklin gave the boy a few minutes to stew before walking over. In a calm voice he asked, "Are you ready?"

Ben nodded and stood up, despite the turning feeling in his stomach. The nerves in his gut were already shot as he staggered over to the wall where Franklin was leading him. The pounding of his heart only facilitated the sweat collecting on his palms and in his armpits. He felt sick, a feeling that only worsened when the carpet that covered the back wall fell, revealing a large double door. It was covered with intricate, detailed carvings and etchings and was outlined in gold trim. It had a keyhole about six feet from the floor.

"I had this built before I truly understood what I was doing," Franklin said. "I thought maybe this would be a good thing; a way to see my wife again, but instead, I dragged you into it. I'm terribly sorry it all worked out like this, Ben. I hope you can one day forgive me..."

Ignoring his words, Ben looked at the key in his hand and with a deep breath walked up to the door. Placing the key in the lock, he felt the grooves of the token in his other hand. Closing his eyes, he thought again about the person his grandfather was, and who he wanted Ben to become. Almost lost in the memory, he exhaled and turned the key until he heard a hollow click. The sound was tiny compared to the massive size of the moving mechanism. They stood there as mechanical parts moved behind the scenes, and waited for the climactic moment when the door would open.

Ready for anything to happen, Ben took a step back, giving it space to open. Instead of an immense grandiose action which would reveal the way to them, the door popped out about a foot and stopped. They both stood there waiting a moment longer for something else to happen, but it never came. Ben finally exhaled after he realized he had been holding his breath, and took a step closer.

A cool breeze rushed through the crack, fluttering his hair a bit. He couldn't overcome an ominous twinge in his mind as the darkness from the opening seemed to escape into the room. There was no way to prepare for what was on the other side. A feeling of terror approached, climbing up the back of his throat, drying out his mouth, and making it hard to swallow. His clammy hand clasped the cold frame of the door and pulled the monstrous barrier open. Ben was surprised at how little it weighed as he stared into the encompassing blackness before him.

There, behind the door, was nothing. There was no light, no floor, no ceiling, and no other side. Just an infinite abyss, as Franklin had told him to expect. The human mind isn't able to comprehend the idea of nothing, so when Ben stood there staring into it, he had no thoughts in his mind. Even the fear that once gripped him was gone, because there, before him, was nothing to be afraid of.

Franklin, standing behind Ben and looking over his shoulder into the abyss, broke the silence. "I need you to promise me that you will do this; that you will follow this through until the end. I need to know that you are a man of your word and that I will be remembered."

"Okay," Ben said, although the word seemed too simplistic for what looked to be a massive undertaking.

"Is that a yes?" Franklin asked.

"Yes, I promise! I will do everything I can to stop this," Ben said.

"Okay. Are you ready?" Franklin asked. The vacuum seemed to suck the sound of his voice into the void, along with the meal that made up his form.

"Do I have a choice?" Ben asked, louder than necessary

"No, I don't think so. Look behind you, the darkness is already consuming the room," Franklin said. Around them, a twisted shadow crawled across the walls of the room, like the diabolic tendrils of some terrifying beast. Everything it touched became obscured by darkness as it devoured every bit of light. It consumed everything it covered, leaving an opening into a black eternity.

"Aren't you coming with me?" Ben asked. He was begging although he tried not to show it.

The sound of Ben's voice alone was enough to show Franklin how scared the boy was. After all, he was only a boy, forced to do the work a man had started years before.

"You know I can't, but wait, you have to take the book!" he yelled, over the sounds of emptiness. Already the growing darkness had made its way down to the floor, creating a hole into nothing. Ben looked at the table and without a thought, ran and grabbed the book just as it was about to fall from sight. With no time to waste, he threw the straps over his shoulder like a backpack, and gripped it tight as he ran back to the doorway and jumped into the lightless hollow beyond. The words "I'm sorry for bringing you back!" did their best to reach Franklins ears as he did.

Franklin stood there as his form was torn apart, with one last word on his lips. "Good luck."

Chapter Six

There was no falling, flying, floating, or gliding. There was only the space of a breath before he found himself on the hard cold stone floor of an unfamiliar cave, the massive book clenched tight against his chest. The landing knocked the wind out of him, and his body ached with pain. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the light blaring at him from the torches that illuminated the walls, tight in their sconces.

With shaky legs, Ben stood up, still holding on to the tome as though his life depended on it. Its weight seemed to comfort him more than it hindered, as he attributed its presence as a sign that he had passed through. Gripped in his hand, the medallion had left an imprint in his palm. He placed it in his pocket, convinced that it had helped him through the abyss.

The chamber he found himself in was not a natural cave formation. Someone had taken special care to build the octagonal room with large dark-gray bricks that stood from the floor up. Above him was a vaulted ceiling that was well out of his reach. Four statues depicting massive human beings rested along the edges of the room, each staring at him with a cold gaze that only stone could have.

Upon closer examination, Ben saw that each statue had a different item in its hand—a cup, a sword, a shield, and a torch. Each statue was also aligned with an element found in nature. The man with the cup was knee deep in water, pouring it from his chalice. The stone was moist with condensation. Adjacent to him was a man with a long sword that pointed toward the sky. His hair and clothing seemed to be windswept. Next was a woman with a shield and she carried a cloth bag full of sand. Her counterpart, another woman, held a stone torch that helped to illuminate the room. Each statue had a large unique design carved into the base.

Against the wall behind the statues was a small podium that had a stone book resting on it. Looking at it revealed it to be an effigy of the very book Ben held in his hands. He wondered if this was a coincidence or if this was the room that greeted all travelers to this world. The book itself was opened to a single page that had been etched into the stone. Opening his own book, Ben felt a quick breeze hit him in the face. He flipped through the pages until he found the one that matched the page before him, carved in stone. Both pages, paper and stone, depicted a large pentagram with five symbols drawn at each point. Looking back at the statues, he could only surmise that each must have aligned with an element. Yet, with the four elements and the five points, there was still one statue missing.

"What have I stepped into?" he asked, closing the book and looking around the chamber. It took him a while, but after some investigation, he found an entrance that was all but hidden behind another wall. The room created an optical illusion that almost made it impossible to find the escape. Ready to leave, he walked toward the door when something caught his eye. There, around the corner, a person's booted foot moved.

"Hello, who's there?" Ben asked. As soon as the words left his lips, whoever the booted foot belonged to darted out of the passage. Ben took off after the person, trying to keep up, but he or she had disappeared. Standing outside, trying to catch his breath, Ben found himself in the middle of a dense forest. Pine trees loomed around him, reaching up into the night sky. To his right was a large cliff that was higher than the trees and on top of it was something he couldn't believe. There, mocking him, was the house he had just left, standing tall and proud. Before he could question it, something moved in a bush at the corner of his vision.

"Come out, I've got a knife!" Ben said, hands shaking as they tried to open the folded blade.

"Whoa, whoa, okay, I'm sorry," said a male's voice. Out of the shrub came a man wearing dark green cloth pants with black boots and a light red shirt under an obsidian cloak, the hood of which partially covered his face. Along his belt were many pouches, each contoured to whatever was in them.

"Why did you run?" Ben asked, breathless.

"I didn't think anyone was there. You scared the piss out of me," the man replied.

"So, why did you hide?"

"Because I couldn't outrun you," he replied, struggling to get up. The man examined Ben's jeans and T-shirt and frowned. "Strange dress for a man."

"You're one to talk," Ben replied.

The hooded man looked surprised by this but didn't respond. They stood there for a while eye to eye, not saying a word until Ben finally broke the thick silence.

"What's your name?"

"Miles Strange. Yours?" He dusted himself off and checked all of his gear.

"That's an...interesting name," Ben said, trying not to say "strange."

"Yeah, I chose it myself," he replied, and then fell silent, looking at Ben as if waiting for a response.

"Oh, I'm Ben. Ben Harking. Sorry, I'm not really sure what to make of all of this," Ben said.

"All of what?" he asked.

Ben shook his head. "Never mind. What were you doing in that cave?" he asked. Not sure if he could trust this man, he gripped the book even closer, unintentionally revealing its worth.

"Treasure hunting. Did you find that book in there?" Miles asked, stepping closer to examine it.

"No, it's mine," Ben spat. There was a brief moment of silence again before Miles relented and backed off.

"Eh, it didn't seem like it had anything worthwhile anyways. I'm off. Catch you around," he said, turning his back to Ben and leaving with a simple wave. Ben stood there, watching as he disappeared without a sound into the forest.

"Wait! Maybe we can travel together?" Ben yelled, but received no reply.

"Well, that was strange," he said, entertained by his little pun. With the distraction gone, he focused his attention on the matter at hand—getting back up to the house and figuring out what to do next. Things weren't the same anymore, which was obvious, but the problem now was getting it all sorted out. Looking at the book, he decided that it was best not to open it again. He needed to get somewhere safe. He had a feeling that people might want the power it held. Just by seeing the look Miles gave it was enough to tell him this.

Ben stood there for a while, trying to figure out how to get back up to the house. After a few moments of indecision, he got frustrated with himself for stalling and started walking in the direction he was facing. The forest itself was scary at first, but after a while, he was able to use the light from the moon that stood high in the starless sky to find his way. He expected animals and such to be roaming around, but found and heard none; this didn't disappoint him. The pine forest was cleaner than he had expected. He walked on a bed of pine straw with little resistance from downed limbs or overgrown brush.

After less than an hour of walking, his feet had already started to groan their tired and sore song and he had to stop. The house still loomed overhead peering down at him through the tress, but he couldn't find a means to get to it. He sat on a log, thinking about everything that had happened so far. He remembered the fear he felt before he jumped and the pain of the fire against his hand. All of these things had already started to change him. The adversity he had faced in one day was already taking shape in his mind, helping him become more than he already was. There was no turning back, which meant that by moving forward, he had only the future to face and whatever that would bring.

Chapter Seven

Standing outside of his destination, Ben looked down upon the mass of stairs he had just climbed to reach this point. It wasn't more than a hundred steps, but his legs screamed it was a thousand. Out of shape and out of breath, he stood there, hunched over, supporting his weight on his knees, willing his body to catch up to his ambition. The front door to his home was only a few feet away, but he couldn't move another inch.

The morning sun was coming up over the tree line, but something was off about it. Its piercing light seemed dull today and its warmth was almost superficial. Ben sat down on a stone bench, taking a break after the long trek from the cave below. The book still felt light in his hands, like it wanted to be carried. He opened it up and started flipping through the stiff pages, looking for some clue as to his next step.

One page in particular jumped out, causing him to stop and examine it. On the page grotesque creatures, standing taller than mountains, looked down upon little specks of humans as the tiny people worshiped them like gods. Along the edges were strange symbols that must have been letters and words. Despite the well-drawn images and symbols, he was unable to discern any helpful information. He gave up, despite his piqued interest, and closed the book. With the wind back in his sails, Ben stood up and headed into the house, unsure of what he would find.

Inside, the place was rundown and dingy, which came as a shock. Only hours before the entire house had been spotless thanks to Charles' excellent cleaning skills. Running his hand across the banister of the stairs, Ben pulled it away with a large covering of dust. It was like the house had been left dormant for years before he walked through the door. The furniture was still as he had left it, but ages had passed since another person had set foot in there. This sudden change left him feeling anxious and on edge.

Without further hesitation, Ben ran down into the basement to look for Franklin. The room was just as he had left it, except for the corpse of his new friend, which was nowhere to be found. It was as if it had never existed at all. The table was covered with the same soot as the rest of the house with the exception of where the book had been resting all those years. The spot was clean, as though someone had just wiped it off. Ben also noticed that the door was no longer there, and the rug that covered it was still hanging as it had before.

"I'm all alone," he said. The fear had begun to creep inside again like a faceless mass of darkness. Pulling out a chair, he sat down for a moment, hating himself for feeling so weak and helpless. This was getting worse by the second, and he didn't have a clue how to fix it. After a few minutes of quiet panic, he sat up and scolded himself for giving in. The chair creaked as it relieved itself of his weight.

Still sulking, he walked up the stairs and into his parents' bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was quiet as a tomb. He sat down on the chair his mother used to rock him to sleep in and thought about a different time, back at this old house when things were better. In his mind, he was transported to his old house where they used to have a game night every so often. They would laugh and play and lose themselves in each other's company. Things seemed better back then, but that seemed like a million years ago, when he was a different person.

Realizing how alone he was, Ben came to the conclusion that there was only one course of action—he needed to find someone to help him. With this newfound goal in mind, he left the house, exiting the back door, with the book in hand, leaving behind his home and all its memories, good and bad, for the bleak world beyond its walls.

As he opened the door to the backyard, Ben noticed that the sun had already retreated for the day, leaving the cold night's sky to be his guide through the darkness. Without realizing it, he had wasted an entire day sitting around, moping and worrying about his current situation. An intense hunger was building up inside him, but he knew there wasn't time to stop for food.

On his left was a chain-link fence that his parents had installed while he was away at school. Near that was the shed that held the tools their gardener used to maintain their expensive foliage. Their pristine landscaping was something to marvel at, but the poor demeanor of the gardener left something to be desired. He often complained about his wife and other happenings in his life, forcing Ben to listen. Ben was often irritated, but he listened to be polite.

All the work the gardener had done was overshadowed by new growth. The small plants and flowers were now over grown, but well kept and vibrant in the moonlight. It was the first real beauty he had seen.

Stepping off the stoop and on to the pathway, Ben made his way toward the shed, hoping to find someone with something to say. With no one else around, the boy was left looking for anyone he could find, even if it was the cantankerous gardener. With the light of the moon casting down on him, he heard something that gave him cause to scout around, looking for any sense of danger. Then, through the thick woods behind the fence, he saw something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Two beady dots of glowing silver seemed to move behind the leaves, following his every step. Ben halted for a moment trying to figure out what it was. They stopped with him, mirroring his position.

In an unconscious motion, his hand shot down to his pocket, where he felt the outline of his grandfather's medallion against the fabric of his jeans. The pounding of his heart became louder in his chest until it was overpowered by another unwelcome sound. A low repetitive growl began to get louder until it broke off into a loud howl. At this, Ben scurried backwards, right as the gaping maw of a large wolf-like creature snapped at the fence. Before he knew it, he was sitting on his ass, back against the wall, with his hands covering his face in a protective manner.

It growled and barked at him as Ben waited for the inevitable end with his eyes closed. If he could have breathed, he would have screamed for his life, but before he had a chance, there was a loud unfamiliar crack followed by a quick whimper. After a moment of silence, he opened his eyes. There, standing before him, was a short man with an overgrown mustache and a large fork-like apparatus in his hand. Electricity arced across the tines and Ben knew then that it was a large cattle prod, or something similar.

"Damn mutts, always trying to scare people," the man said. "Come on in. I'll check you out, make sure you're okay." He waddled over to the shed and opened the door. Ben just sat there, still stunned by what had happened. It took his chest a moment to loosen up enough for him to take a small breath, which still had trouble passing the lump in his throat.

"Well, you just gonna sit there and wait for him to come back, or are you gonna come in?" the man asked with an impatient tongue. Ben jumped up and ran to the door, as the man stood there holding the door with a bit of a grimace on his face. His annoyance was apparent, but Ben didn't notice. His attention was still fixed on the fence and the beady marbles that were still there, sizing him up. They both stepped into the small building, with the little man leading the way.

The shack turned out to be much larger than Ben had anticipated. The entire back wall had been torn down to connect to the large greenhouse behind it. Its windows were crude blown glass tinted a harsh teal from all the grimy build-up on them. A variety of plants surrounded him; each had its own pot and place on a shelf or the floor. The room was humid and hot, making it hard for Ben to catch his breath.

"Well, what can I do you for?" the man asked, walking over with a bowl of piping hot liquid. It was full of ingredients and smelled delicious. "Eat," he said, and walked over to his workstation, dwarfed by the counter he stood behind. The man put on a pair of round glasses and began watering the plants with a metal can. He stood at each and hummed a tune, and when it was done he moved on to the next. Ben looked down at the food, not sure how to respond.

"Eat!" the man said again. "It'll help your strength." Ben took the bowl and turned it up. The tastes that collided inside his mouth made him drink until it was gone. With the bowl sitting empty, he already wanted more.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" the man asked in his crabby voice.

"Thank you," Ben said.

"That's not what I mean. I don't have all day, so if you're here to buy something, you need to speak up."

"I'm not here to buy anything. I...just didn't know where else to go," Ben responded. "You see I've got this book..."

"A book, you say? Let me see," the man butted in. Hesitantly, Ben placed the book down on the counter top. The old man adjusted his glasses and then opened it. As he flipped through the pages he mumbled something to himself, as if he was reading the impossible script. This went on for a few moments as Ben tried to follow his eyes.

"Can you understand any of this?" Ben questioned.

The man looked up without moving his neck, holding on to his glasses so they wouldn't fall off. "Some of it," he said. Ben's eyes grew wide with excitement and he stepped closer to the counter to examine the book with him.

"I'm Ben, by the way," Ben said, trying not to sound on edge, but the irritable old man only replied with his name, "Jarvis." They stood in silence for a while as the man skimmed the pages, muttering incoherent babble. After growing tired of standing there, Ben took off toward the back of the greenhouse so he wouldn't have to feel the awkwardness between the two of them. It had only been a few hours since he had left Franklin behind, but he could already tell that it wasn't going to be easy. Without anyone to help him, as Franklin had, Ben didn't know what to do or where to go next.

All around him was a bounty of lush plants that were larger than he had expected them to be. Most were colorful flowers, but there were whole sections of roots and cacti as well as vines and a moss like substance. Each was set up in its own place and given what it needed to survive in its normal environment. Ben was surprised to see that the building had its own electricity that helped mimic the natural habitats of some of the plants. Grow lights hung above most of them, creating the light and heat they needed to survive.

"I take it you sell plants?" Ben questioned, raising his voice so the man could hear him.

"I sell ingredients," Jarvis said, standing behind him. Ben jumped, not expecting the short man to be so close. "I grow and sell different substances for use in alchemical recipes. Now, we need to discuss this book."

"Okay," Ben replied. The walk to the front of the store was short, but the tension that had grown between them made it seem like an eternity. Ben felt like a child again, waiting for his parents' approval or a kind word from another adult. This wasn't how he wanted to act, but there was little he could do.

"This is quite the find," he said. "I don't see many tomes of this magnitude out here. The problem, though, is that it was written in different languages. I can read parts, but the rest is unknown to me. I'll make you a deal. You do something for me, and I'll help you by translating what I know. Sound good?"

"Yeah, I think we can do that," Ben said, happy to be getting somewhere.

Jarvis cocked a simple grin and started pulling things out from under the counter. One was a water skin and the other was a thin red piece of cloth. It was sheer and silky as he ran it through his fingers.

"You will need these. I have prepared the skin with not just water, but some other ingredients that will help revitalize you more than the water will on its own. Remember, you will need to take only one sip at a time, no matter how thirsty you may be. This shawl will help protect you from the elements. I have carefully imbued it with oils and other salves to keep your skin shielded. Take these two things and I'll meet you out back. When you return, I should have some of this translated."

"What exactly do you want me to do?" Ben asked.

"I need you to go get something for me; it's a rare fruit that only grows in one place. It's going to help me in my experiments for pushing the normal boundaries of our minds. Meet me outside and I'll tell you what I can," Jarvis said, wandering off toward a back room. Waddling through the door, he stopped and sprinkled some kind of powder onto one of his plants and then was gone. Ben stood there for a moment and then grabbed up the items and stepped outside.

There was a cool, mild breeze blowing when he stepped out into the night. The baleful fence stole his attention the moment his feet touched the stone walkway. Without a trace of his new tormentor, Ben snuck around the building, trying his best not to draw any attention to himself. Jarvis marched out of the glass doors and toward him. Without missing a beat, he looked up at Ben and said, "Follow me," in a forceful voice Ben couldn't say no to.

Before them was a tall arched gate cast from iron, surrounded by a wall of shrubbery that boxed in a large hedge maze. Its tall walls were impossible to see over, even standing on the stone statue of a nearby nymph. The gate had a keyhole that caught Ben's attention the second it came into view. The key in his back pocket seemed like a good place to start, so he pulled it out and stuck it in. The old man giggled with glee as the lock refused to turn. With a set of keys in his hand, Jarvis walked over and opened the lock himself. The screech of the gate was like music to his ears as a new avenue opened before them.

"I'll be in my shed when you get back," he said, turning to leave. Ben looked at the gate, ready to enter, when a burning question pulled him away.

"Wait, where do I go?" Ben asked.

"Through the maze," Jarvis said, walking back toward the shed.

"But where am I supposed to end up?" Ben asked. His whiny voice had returned, along with that childish inclination he was trying to forget.

The man turned, and with the amused smile of a hyena, said, "A garden."

"A garden? We are already in a garden," Ben said.

"Yes, but this is a very special garden. There you will find a tree with a special fruit. I need you to get it for me."

"Where is it?" Ben asked.

"You'll find it."

Chapter Eight

Before Ben was a set of stairs that lead down into a grey cobblestone tunnel. Its archway was adorned with elaborate carvings that caught his attention. Two fruit trees, one on each side of the archway, reached up and bent toward the sun. The intricacies exhibited on each tree were amazing, ranging from the elaborate patterns carved into the bark, to the jeweled leaves and fruit. Each stone in the tunnel glinted in the full moon's light, challenging the celestial body for dominance with its luster.

Ben wasn't confident he was ready to keep moving forward. He hadn't quite gotten over the fear he was trying to leave behind. That moment of hesitation still stalked him like a predator in the night, striking at the most inopportune moments. His legs were ready, but he was not. Before he knew it, though, he was down the stairs, with the tunnel entrance passing above head.

The walk through the passage was almost pitch black, except for the jewel of light that glowed in the farthest reaches, beckoning him to stay the course. The illumination got larger until it threatened to swallow Ben whole. It was blinding to stare into, so he kept his head down and moved forward until the familiar sound of sea gulls broke through the silence. The scent of ocean water hung in the air, thick like morning dew that covered everything it touched.

Outside the tunnel, Ben found himself standing at the top of another set of stairs, looking out at a vast sea. He took a sip from his water skin and then walked over to the edge to look down. Giant roots, bigger than most trees, had erupted from the cliff side and dangled down, reaching for the water below. From his position, it looked like the mass of land was floating above the water, but he couldn't get a good enough vantage point to figure it out. This idea lingered in his mind for a moment longer until he got up and turned around.

"Wow," escaped his lips as an overwhelming sense of minuteness hit him. Standing before him was a mass of gigantic trees, larger than skyscrapers. They stood still, never swaying or rocking, no matter how hard the wind blew. Like sleeping giants, each threatened to be a catastrophic force of destruction if anything ever woke it. The roots that had crawled out of the earth and now rested on the ground were taller than hills. Luckily he wouldn't have to go over them because a worn path twisted through the trees, leading deeper into the forest.

"Holy..." he said to himself, standing at the line of trees that separated the ocean and the inner forest. He looked into the depths trying to make out any possible danger but couldn't see past the mighty hardwoods. The forest was dead quiet, save for Ben's rapid heartbeat and slow, heavy breathing. More than a little nervous, he drew a deep breath and took off down the path, holding his fear in check with a tiny thread of determination.

With a quick pace, Ben rushed through the trees toward an unknown destination. The stone walkway itself was weird since it was suited for a person his size in a sea of wooden giants. People must have traveled through here often; he rationalized. Trying to figure out any way to calm his anxiety, he convinced himself that this was a trade route or some other road that people used with regular frequency. Right at that moment, a monstrous, bellowing sound tore through the trees, freezing Ben in his place.

Unable to think, his body's only reaction was to kneel down as the sound came again. Ben was terrified as a gigantic being stirred off in the distance, moving farther away from him. The only thing he could see was a massive shadow moving through the dark recesses of the forest. He watched for as long as he could, exhaling only after it was gone. The blood returned to his face, but he felt sick to his stomach. The queasy feeling of helplessness erupted out of him, landing on the path in a messy pile of puke. He wiped it away from his mouth and got up to leave. Everything in him screamed to turn back, but for the sake of a promise, he stayed his course.

It wasn't long before he found a small clearing in the woods. It was a circular patch of grass that held a camp, hidden away beneath the trees. There was a fire pit in the middle, and two dwellings on the outsides. Ben crept around the houses, looking through the windows trying to find any source of life. The small huts were covered in dust and spider webs. It was obvious that no one had lived there in a very long time. The place was deserted, but the plates and other household wares were lying around as if abandoned in a hurry. It didn't take him long to leave, following the trail back into the woods.

The trail crawled through the forest for miles, leaving Ben exhausted before he saw the first signs of light tearing through the thinning canopy. Hours must have passed since he last saw the strange camp in the woods. He was almost ready to give up when the still air picked up a subtle breeze. There, in the distance, was the first bit of hope to come his way since he had started his journey. A bright world was just ahead of him, past the final lines of trees and something else he couldn't make out yet.

Ducking down, he sneaked around the roots and trees until he could get a better view. There, racing along the tree line, was a being that could only be described as an angel. It was a nude man with a muscular build and a long piece of cloth between his legs covering his genitalia. A golden helmet shrouded his face; devoid of any human visage, the headgear was a smooth and reflective metal, with subtle patterns etched into it. On its back was a large set of wings that caught the sun and blurred its rays until they seemed to be a part of the light itself.

In its hand, a bold flame rose up and ended in a tip. The angel's weapon, a sword, was emblazoned with a white-hot fire that looked like it could melt the resolve of any foe. It glided back and forth as if it was protecting something, and then finally moved on, leaving Ben unseen. He got up as soon as it was gone and made his way past the trees and into the light.

Standing there, out in the open, Ben looked down on a large valley. At the bottom of the slope was a garden full of wildlife and vegetation. Every color you could imagine was down there in the form of flowers and other plant life, creating a tapestry of vibrant beauty that took Bens breath away. The place was overgrown with vegetation, and the comforting warmth and glow it released was welcoming. In the sky sat the most amazing thing he had ever seen in his life. Resting above everything, suspended in the air by an unseen force, were two gargantuan trees. Their branches pointed towards the ground and their roots crawled up into the heavens. The trees reached so far into the sky that it was hard to see where they even stopped. It was bizarre to see such a phenomenon, but their existence seemed so natural that he couldn't question it. He knew then that he had found his destination.

Chapter Nine

Eager to get away from the massive, foreboding forest behind him, he took the stairs leading down as fast as he could. His feet hit stone after stone, never faltering until he reached the bottom where he had trouble stopping. Once again out of breath, he found it hard to swallow with his throat dry from breathing in so deep. He wanted to rest for a moment, but something urged him forward. The entrance to the garden was another archway, but instead of stone, this time it was actual trees, intertwined at the top. Each one had different colors and characteristics, but both seemed to be a part of the other.

Stepping through into the garden, he couldn't help but notice a thick haze of glistening pollen that hung in the air. Much to Ben's surprise, he was welcomed by an abundance of tame animals that all approached at the same time. There were all different types of species living together, co-existing in harmony. Each docile creature came forward, compelling him to caress their bodies with gestures of endearment, pushing up against him, and rubbing their heads against his hands. He became lost in a sea of love and affection. Each animal appreciated his attention so much that they wouldn't leave him alone. Fighting the pressure to stay with them, Ben forced himself to push through, toward the center.

They followed him, desperate for his attention, through the dense foliage, across creeks and streams, and finally they stopped as he came to the center. Pushing a limb thick with leaves to the side, he saw a tall mound with stone stairs that led up to where the two massive trees were. A flat field of short green grass that looked manicured surrounded the mound. As he stepped out onto it, he felt a noticeable difference in the temperature. The sun heated this spot, leaving it a comfortable temperature that reminded him of mid-spring.

Taking the steps one by one, Ben found himself standing on a stone floor, looking up at the overhanging coverage of leaves and limbs. Just inside his reach a cluster of fruit dangled from both trees. One was a jumbled-up bunch of red berries that seemed to be conjoined and the other reminded him of a soft apple. He examined both, not sure which one to take. He reached up to touch the cluster of berries but stopped at the sudden sound of a hissing voice.

"I wouldn't do that unless you want to end up like him," said a snake as it slithered its way through the branches of both trees. Its arrow-shaped head and sharp, pointed fangs gave Ben reason to be cautious, but still, he decided to listen.

"Him?" Ben asked.

"HIM!" the snake replied, pointing its tail towards the other side of the hill. There on the ground, at the bottom of the hill was a skeleton. Its wide-open jaw hinted at a screaming agony that left Ben chilled despite the temperate weather.

"What happened?" Ben asked.

"That's another story for another day. Just let it be known that in choosing the wrong fruit, you could face grave consequences." It sneered at him. Ben wasn't amused by the snake's sense of charm, and he threw up a defiant face in return. The snake only grinned in response.

"How do I know which to pick?" Ben asked.

"You don't know where you are, do you?" it asked, slithering ever closer.

"I'm not sure I follow," Ben said. The snake laughed at this, looking surprised by the boy's ignorance.

"Eden, my boy. You stand on hallowed ground," it said.

"Eden?" Ben said, shocked by the revelation. "Like, the bible Eden?"

"The one, the same," it said, darting its tongue into Ben's ear. He batted it away.

"Watch it, boy! You don't know who you are dealing with." The snake, rearing back, showed its fangs.

"If this is Eden, then I have an idea who you are, but who would that make him...?" Ben remarked. The snake gave only a devious grin in response, but Ben knew what it meant.

"The tree of life and the tree of knowledge," Ben said, after taking a sip from his water skin. He wiped the sweat from his brow and stood there for an eternity, trying to figure out what to do next. Like a chess player calculating his strategy, he examined all moves he could make. "Jarvis said the fruit was for an experiment on pushing the boundaries of our mind. That must be the tree of knowledge, but how do I figure out which is which?"

"Hmm, quite a predicament," the snake hissed. "You could always ask me for help, you know?" As it spoke, it moved closer to Ben, sliding down the tree. Its weight bore down on the thin limbs, causing them to sag.

"I know I can't trust you because you are a known liar," Ben said. The cold, stern tone in his voice didn't faze the reptile.

"A liar?" it replied. "What could I possibly gain from lying to you? As a matter of fact, I'm much more truthful than most would believe. It's just that the truths I peddle are in fact too much for most to handle. Their fragile little egos shatter under the weight of my knowledge. And temptations merely come from showing others the futility of their lives and actions."

Ben felt the weight of the snake's words, but shrugged them off for the moment. "Tell me about the tree of life," he said, feeling a growing heat on his head and neck.

"Yes, smart; discern the clues and decide based on your best judgment. The tree of life is just that, a tree with the power over life itself. One of the two forbidden trees, its pollen gave those around it extended life and health. Some even say it grants immortality. Its fruit, however, is a different story completely."

"Please explain," Ben said, his curiosity piqued. He even found himself stepping closer to hear the snake better.

"Death is a natural part of life. The fruit of the tree of life grants instant life to the dead and instant death to the living. It was forbidden because it would undo all of his work."

"His? You mean God?" Ben asked, wiping the sweat from his head again.

"The tree of knowledge," it said, ignoring his question, "changes the way the mind perceives the world, allowing man to understand things he never thought possible. Being in the presence of its pollen has the lasting effect of elation and contentment, but to eat the fruit..."

"The fruit?" Ben asked.

"Will change your perception forever. You know, there is one thing you could try since you don't know which to take," the snake said as if the idea had just struck him.

"Why is it so hot?" Ben asked, fanning himself.

"You stand in his presence," the snake said, looking up. Ben followed his gaze and saw the massive sun beating down on him. "That is why I sit in the shade, away from his judgment."

"God?" Ben asked, shading his eyes with his hand as he looked up.

"Why don't you test the fruit's effects on our friend down there? See what happens before you make a decision you may regret," the snake said, avoiding Bens question again. He pointed his beady eyes down toward the skeleton, trying his best to direct Ben's attention.

"Yeah...that's not a bad idea," Ben said, forgetting himself. With the anointed shawl that Jarvis had given him in his hand he reached up and grabbed a berry cluster and pulled. Standing over the skeleton, he squished the berries until their juice flowed from his grip and into the gaping maw of the dead man before them.

"Yes..." the snake hissed as the red fluid, like blood, poured down, splashing upon the mouth, covering the teeth with its crimson fluid. Ben stood there for a moment waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. Content on his answer, he started back up to the tree to grab another bundle to take back to Jarvis. The snake, with its gaze transfixed on the skeleton, backed up the tree and away from Ben, who then turned just in time to watch as the body started to reform itself. Sinew stitched back to bone and muscle formed from that as fibers twisted up and condensed. It was like watching a corpse decay backwards, but Ben couldn't turn away. Horrified by the grotesque nature of what he was seeing, he released a single tear as he stood there stunned. He knew then that he had committed a horrible act that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

It took less than two minutes for the man to take the first breath of his new life. Ben overheard the snake behind him say, "Adam," in a low, hushed tone as if in awe. The man's body writhed in agony as he tore into a renewed existence. The first sound out of his mouth was a cry of pain that assaulted Ben's ears. The groan pulled at him, tearing apart his resolve. The snake and Ben both watched as the sky turned dark as thick clouds rolled off the horizon. Adam's first action was to grasp his stomach in pain.

The snake chuckled to himself and said, "You've really pissed off the wrong person."

As the man started to become coherent, Ben happened to see the burning sword of the angel off in the distance. It made its way through the thick foliage of Eden, hacking a pathway as it did.

"Where am I?" Adam asked, speaking his first words.

"There's no time. Come with me," Ben said, still looking over his shoulder. He couldn't explain his next actions, but the boy felt responsible for the man's new life and out of some sense of youthful naivety, wanted nothing more than to preserve it. They were now both in danger as their angelic enemy bore down on them.

"I want to stay here," Adam said, giving into the fate before him.

"Please, just come on," Ben said, pulling his arm. With reluctance, the first man complied with an outstretched arm.

"You've raised an abomination in his garden," the snake said with glee. Ben didn't bother looking at the snake; instead, he helped the naked man to his feet and gave him the shawl to cover up with. With a quick jump, the boy found himself back on the mound, staring up at the fruit he needed. He pulled the apple-like thing from its place and held it fast as he returned to the ground below, running as fast as he could.

Grabbing his hand, Ben pulled Adam along just as the angel appeared from the thicket. The man, unsure in his footing, stumbled behind Ben as the trees began to collapse to the ground. Their leaves and fruit turned brown with decay and started to fall. The limbs popped and groaned. All around them, stuff started crashing down, forcing them to dodge their way through. The brush around them withered and decayed into a liquid-like substance that dripped to the ground.

The angel passed the mound, chasing after Ben. The snake pointed its tail and said, "They went that way." The angel didn't turn or acknowledge the legless creature, but instead stayed its course. It used its sword to cut through the falling debris, never slowing as it followed. Ben and Adam watched as the animals all disintegrated into piles of ash. If he had a moment to think about it, Ben would have felt responsible for their deaths. With a stitch in his side that only got worse, he ran, pulling Adam with him.

Finally breaking through the thick garden, Ben tumbled blindly over a hill and stumbled into a pit. With a splash, they were both submerged in a thick oppressive substance that was impossible to swim in. The black sludge weighed their bodies down and filled Ben's mouth with a disgusting taste. Trying to hold up Adam and himself, he opened his eyes and looked upon a horror that was worse than a flaming sword, or the angel attached to it.

Ben couldn't contain his fright as a multitude of human corpses floating in the slimy bog came into view. Some of the figures looked identical, with only some minor flaws and inconsistencies in their appearance, while others were so badly decayed they were nothing but skeletons. In that instant he realized that the males all looked like Adam. He panicked and tried to get away from the pit, but the bodies shifted, pulling him deeper into the thick mire that their decomposition had created. Floundering in the black muck, he struggled to keep his head up above the surface so he wouldn't suffocate. He fought with desperation until a hand caught hold of his and pulled him up and out of the scum.

Adam had managed to climb out of the scum and had pulled Ben to safety. He lay on the hot sand for a moment and listened to the mumbling insanity of his savior. Adam sat there crying into his hands, talking about the women in the pit. In his stupor, he kept saying the name Eve throughout his incoherent blubbering. It took Ben a second to realize it, but the man was talking about his lost love, and how they had been separated. With his body covered in the decayed slime, and in no hurry to explain the situation to him, Ben planted himself on the ground, too exhausted for emotion, too exhausted to care about anything but the ruby red treasure of the fruit in his hand. He lay there in the darkness for a while looking up at the crowed sky covered in stars. The smell that covered him was so repugnant that he gagged with each breath until he finally started vomiting.

Over time, his strength returned and he lifted his head up to look around. The terrain that was once Eden had turned into a desolate wasteland of dark sand and tall windblown dunes. He took one good look at himself and then at Adam and broke down. The tears wouldn't stop flowing as he lay there on the warm sand, bawling his eyes out. Suddenly, the sobs turned into screams and he found himself yelling at the sky with his hands raised in defiance until his lungs gave out. After a few moments, he dropped back down and passed out, exhausted.

Chapter Ten

"Ahem," said a curious and raspy voice. "Could you reach in there and hand me one of those tasty morsels."

Ben turned and looked up. Standing there, balancing on a fake leg made from bone, was a repulsive and hairless individual with light greenish-blue flesh and patches of flaking scaled skin. All over its body were scars that still had leather stitching embedded deep inside the healed wounds. A dirty skull mask that resembled a goat or some other horned creature covered its face, and an oversized hide loincloth covered in long matted hair hid its pudgy belly.

"What?" Ben asked, shocked by its sudden appearance.

"You aren't dense, are you? Hand me one of those body parts so I don't have to crawl down there myself," it said as it pointed into the pit from where Ben had just escaped. Ben turned and looked into the mass grave again. The scene was a macabre and disgusting exhibit as the corpses stared up at him with empty eye sockets. Like tar, the mire bubbled as air and gases escaped from beneath.

"Ah, beautiful Adam and Eve. It's a shame that whoever created them just threw them out like this. I've tasted my share, you know, but these two are absolutely the best. I make a special pilgrimage to this place each year to partake in their flesh. Which as you can tell, is a notable feat," he said as he knocked on the prosthetic leg with his bare knuckles.

"Adam and Eve... Oh no, where is the guy that was with me?" Ben asked, looking around. A crushing guilt hit him all at once and he knew that Adam was his responsibility.

The ghoul pointed at a set of footprints that disappeared from sight into the desert. "I passed him on the way here. Peculiar fellow; didn't know his own name. Speaking of names, I'm Daniel. People say Daniel is a weird name for a ghoul, but I like it."

Ben flashed him a blank stare, still focused on his missing companion. As he tried to stand up, he could feel the crusty black muck flaking off his skin. From the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, Ben was covered in a hardened layer of decay.

"I'm the first ghoul from the Lilitu lineage of the rock tribe, three clans removed from the dung eaters. We live in a place hundreds of miles from here to the west; known as the birthplace of evil. There's nothing there, so I wouldn't go if I was you, but I find it to be a nice place to live," Daniel said as he dug around in his satchel. He procured a dull rusty dagger and then looked at Ben with a nasty salivating grin on his face.

"I take it you aren't going to grab my dinner for me," the ghoul said as it started down the sandy slope into the muck. "It won't be the first time I've done this for myself." Suddenly, his fake leg got hung on something, and the small ghoul fell face first into the disgusting broth of rot with a loud splat. Ben just watched as Daniel surfaced on his back with a wide smile on his face.

"Ah, heaven," the ghoul said, covered in the sticky filth Ben had fought so hard to escape.

"Disgusting," Ben said as he turned and walked off in the direction of the footprints. The black sand was hard and coarse as the wind whipped it up against his skin. He wished he still had the shawl to protect his face as he pressed forward, following the trail left by the aimless and confused Adam. In his hand, the fruit seemed to pulsate like a thriving organ, red and oozing a thick fluid that reminded him of blood. He felt awkward holding it, but he knew that he couldn't let the treasure slip from his grasp.

The journey had been too long and arduous for him to give up, but the sudden change in terrain was unforgiving. The promise he had made stuck in his thoughts as the sun's unrelenting heat bore down on him, and the sand became harder and harder to walk in. Each footstep sunk more as he pushed forward until he was almost knee deep, wading through it like one would water. He began to worry that sinking was inevitable when he saw something in the distance. It was a figure, slouched down on both knees. Ben did everything he could to fight against the shifting ground beneath his feet. As he got closer, he found a foothold and pulled himself up and out.

There, on the ground, with his face buried in his hands, was Adam. His cheeks were covered in tears as he tried to catch a breath between blubbering sobs. Ben approached him and saw that he was positioned in front of a silver sword embedded, blade down, into the ground. He was positioned there like one ready to worship or pray in front of an idyllic effigy.

"The angel, he just gave up his post. He was unsuccessful in his duty and so, instead of facing his failure, he just left. Set down his sword and left," Adam said through the tears. "He told me that everything was going to be okay. I remembered everything for a second, and then he kissed me on the forehead. Now it's all gone. Who was I before?"

Ben placed his hand upon the man's shoulder, ready to comfort him, when someone spoke.

"He's been that way for quite awhile. I was passing by when I found him, sitting here in front of this sword." Too exhausted for fear, Ben turned and saw a man standing there with his body and face shrouded by a robe. Looking into the man's face was like peering into the darkness of a cave. It left only the wild musings of an overactive imagination and a hint of fear to fill in the blanks.

"I stayed to watch over him. I was worried something might happen. As you can see, I gave him a few clothes to put on. You may want to get him a salve or balm for his skin. It's been burned from the sun," the man continued.

"Thank you, I don't know what else to say. I've only known him for a short time, and yet, I feel responsible for him. When I realized he was gone, I came as fast as I could," Ben said, looking down.

"You don't have to thank me," the man said. "He...he reminded me of my father. Helping was the least I could do after I let my own family down."

"What's your name?" Ben asked. As the question left his mouth, he could see the man's shoulders slump down in shame.

"I don't have one any longer. I am exiled and have lost any connection to the life I had before," he said in a deep, gruff voice that seemed to have a nuance of echo to it. His stature was tall and broad, but no matter how Ben tried, he couldn't manage a glimpse at the man's face.

"Why don't you travel with us?" Ben asked, looking up at the man with his arm around the crying Adam.

"I cannot," the nameless man replied.

"Don't you get it?" Adam broke in, looking up at Ben. "He left you his sword."

"Can you at least tell us where to go?" Ben asked, half ignoring Adam's words.

"If you keep heading east, you will reach a place called Nod. It's a sleepy little town of wanderers and nomads. If you go this way, you will reach the sea. You can follow the sun's descent into the sand by keeping it on your left side at all times," the man said as he pointed his finger south. "What he said about the sword, it's true. It was left here for you, so I suggest you take it. You never know when you might need something with a sharp edge."

Ben could almost hear the smile on his lips as the man turned to walk away. Passing by the still sobbing Adam, he placed his hand on the man's forehead with an endearing caress and then leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Adam turned and looked up at him and in that moment, Ben could see a flash of the man's face. A white mark in the shape of a handprint was stained across his features, as though it had been painted there.

"Do you know me?" Adam asked, confused and scared. The man never replied, but instead walked off toward the town of Nod, leaving them both there watching as he left. Adam tried to reach out for him with sad desperation, but found his range wanting. Ben held there for a moment, watching him depart until finally belting out a thank you across the dunes. The man raised his hand in simple acknowledgment without turning.

"Take only a sip," Ben said, after handing Adam the water skin. After they drank, Ben got a closer look at Adam for the first time since finding him. His skin was black and crusty from the sludge they had fallen into. In places, the crust had flaked off, leaving dark red burn marks on his skin. This made Ben realize that his own skin was still covered as well, giving him an instant feeling of disgust. He started rubbing his flesh trying to get rid of the filth, but it wouldn't come off. His emotions became frantic as he spit onto his arm and rubbed it until it hurt. He screamed again, frustrated, causing Adam to look up at him with a twinge of fear in his eyes. All Ben could feel was pain and revulsion, two emotions that made him helpless and weak. It was then that the sword came into his view and he knew that the weapon was in fact left for him. It was here so that Ben could learn to use it and never feel helpless again. He grabbed it by its hilt and it slid from the ground without effort. Adam looked up at him as he stood there holding it in his hand.

With the same frustration that drove him to take the blade, Ben told the sobbing man to stand up. It was time for them to go, and he wasn't going to be held back by anything. The two of them marched off into the desert as the sun went down to their left. Adam followed behind, unsure in his footing as he tried to keep up. Ben, with all the self-righteous indignation he could summon, pushed on through hurting legs and the powerful heat toward a goal he wasn't sure was there.

The two of them walked under a milky flood of stars cascading across the night's sky. The light from a million sparkling jewels seemed to brighten up the black sand which flickered as it basked in their distant glow. They had been walking for hours with no sign of their destination and Ben was growing confident that they had lost the trail when the sun went down.

After walking for so long, Ben was dragging the sword behind him instead of carrying it. Its weight was pulling him down and draining his strength despite how light the weapon actually was. His mouth felt parched and his skin itched where the black substance still covered him. The smell relented some as the goo began to harden and flake off. Adam seemed only to mumble to himself as they trudged on, trying to get away from this harsh wasteland. They stopped only to drink from the water skin and then continued on.

Ben's spirits lifted as a cool breeze washed over his face and the scent of salt water hit his nose. Something in the distance caught his eye and he raced toward it with the little strength he had left. It was the tunnel that had brought him here. The lump in his throat disappeared and his morale lifted as the ocean came into view once more. Now at a full run, Ben felt a terrible stitch stab into his side. Ignoring the pain, he sped up, leaving Adam behind. With the tunnel just before them, Ben descended the steps into the dark with no effort. A smile crept across his face as the edges of his eyesight went dim, and then everything went dark.

### Chapter Eleven

An overwhelming light crept back in through the darkness as Ben opened his eyes and found himself lying on a cot in Jarvis' greenhouse. A dull aching pain radiated through his body as he looked up and saw the old man sitting at his table examining something with Adam standing there looking over his shoulder. Ben grunted as he tried to sit up, which alerted the two of them to his presence. Adam was the first one over to check on him as he woke up, but it was Jarvis who was most excited to see the boy open his eyes.

"You did it. I don't know how, but you did it. My life's work can now be completed thanks to you," the old man said through a smile that was covered by his thick grey mustache. He walked over to Ben with a cup of liquid that was steaming at the top and handed it to the boy. Ben turned his nose up at it, but Jarvis insisted by pushing the cup to his face and lifting the bottom until Ben was almost choking on the disgusting drink.

"Jarvis has been teaching me the subtleties of his craft," Adam said, walking over to greet Ben, his new friend. Ben couldn't find the courage to look the man in the eyes as he approached with an awkward smile.

"Your new friend has a million questions. We've been chatting a lot while you've been asleep. He told me how you are the only person that knew him before his encounter with the angel," Jarvis said, patting Adam on the shoulder as he walked back to his workbench. "So, what do we call him?" This question startled Ben.

"Donovan," Ben said, pushing out the first thing that came to mind. "Adam" had almost rolled off his tongue, but that would mean facing the reality of his mistake, and Ben wasn't ready to do that yet. The very idea of explaining the man's unholy rebirth to either of them was too much to take. The angel had done them both the favor of erasing Adams memories, but Ben would be cursed forever with the recollection of his own irresponsible deed.

"You know my name?" Adam asked with a burning eagerness for any information Ben might have. Ben didn't know what to say, so he was forced to perpetuate his own lie; but whom was he protecting?

"You told me before the angel wiped your memory clean," Ben replied. The reluctance in his voice was blatant.

"Well, with that out of the way, we come to your reward," Jarvis butted in. "I wasn't able to translate much. The strangest thing happened which kept me from reading much more than a few pages at a time, but I did translate what I could."

"Wait, what happened?" Ben asked, rising from the cot.

"I don't know, but every time I read from the book, I felt like I was losing myself. I can't explain it, but this book is evil. Be careful when you do read it, because it seems to tax the reader of their mental health," Jarvis said.

Unsure what to say or how to respond to this, Ben just asked his next question instead. "What did you get translated?" he asked.

"Only a few sections in the back. The book is written in different languages and dialects, some of which I don't even recognize, but what I did translate is quite interesting. It talks a good bit about beings called 'the hollow' and how they have been asleep for a very long time. They have the ability to affect mankind's mind with their very presence."

"Why are they called 'the hollow'?" Ben asked, moving closer.

"The only thing I can figure is that they affect man's emotions on a base level, turning positive intentions into hollow husks that are used for selfish purposes. I'm not sure I understand it well enough to explain it to you. Something else I learned is that there are four items deemed as magical weapons that I think you have to collect. A sword, which I see you already have, a cup, a wand or torch maybe, and a shield or coin," Jarvis said, looking over the book.

"For what purpose?" Ben asked, trying to absorb as much information as he could.

"To arm yourself, my boy. Apparently, they are vital to a rite that's supposed to bind these beings to this realm by closing some gate or portal... it wasn't clear. Either way, according to the book, these things are closer to returning now than they've ever been and something tells me your presence here may have something to do with that. Now, that's all I know. As I'm sure you can tell, I have a lot to do and with the fruit now in my possession, I must get back to work. I have no more time for stories and legends. Off with the two of you and please don't come back. I'm much too busy to entertain guests," Jarvis said. He pushed the book toward Ben and, without missing a beat, returned to his work.

"Oh, and here, I want you to have his. Consider it additional reward for a job well done," Jarvis said, placing a piece of the fruit wrapped in leather on the table for Ben to take.

Ben stood there for a moment, speechless and confused by the sudden change in the man's demeanor. He reached up for the book and the small pouch and slid them off the table without saying a word. Turning to the man he had newly dubbed Donovan, he gave a slight wave. "Come on," he said. The two of them turned and walked out of the shed without looking back at the tinkering old man who had begun to hum another unfamiliar tune.

The cold night air blasted him in the face as he left the warm greenhouse. Before the two of them stood the house and a wide open sky that masked the heavens with its dark shroud. Without a clue of what to do, Ben paused there for a moment with sword and book in hand. The blade was clenched in his tight grip while the book weighed down his other arm with its formidable size.

"What do we do now?" Donovan asked.

"I don't honestly know. I risked my life and got nothing in return but a sword and a snub from an ornery old man. I've never been so lost in my life," Ben replied. The self-pity in his voice was apparent to more than just the two of them. From out of the shadows came a familiar figure, which approached without being seen.

"If what the old man said was true, then the sword was your prize in the first place, and you can't forget about the fruit. Both of these are priceless items that you can't afford to part with," said Miles. Ben recognized the man the second he spoke, but was still surprised to see him appear as he did. Donovan stood there, unsure of what to say.

"What do you know about it?" Ben asked, holding out the sword while approaching in a hostile way. The frustration he felt was apparent by the look on his face.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were trying to threaten me," Miles said, poking the sharp tip of the sword. He brought his finger up to his mouth and sucked the blood that seeped from the new wound.

Ben realized his error and pulled away with an apologetic look on his face. "That was not my intention. It's just...it's just that I have no idea what to do, or where to go. We are lost." His shoulders slumped as his head followed suit. He was almost in tears when Donovan stepped up to him and placed his hand on the boy's shoulders. Ben almost felt comforted until the man opened his mouth and said more words he didn't want to hear.

"You are being too hard on yourself. If it wasn't for you, I don't think I'd be here right now," Donovan said.

"I didn't want this," Ben said, fighting back the pain and sorrow that plagued him.

"People aren't usually happy with the way their lives turn out," Miles said.

"I'm just a kid! My life isn't supposed to have "turned out" already! I'm supposed to be at school or with my family and friends! God damn, this isn't fair." Ben fell back against the door of the shack. From within, the loud protests of Jarvis could be heard, but not understood. With this, tears began to flow forth, running down his cheeks and falling from his chin. Donovan wasn't sure what to do, but tightened his grip in an effort to show his support of his newfound friend—his only connection to this world.

"When I was your age, I was already a man with all the responsibilities that entails. I'm not saying you need to grow up, but you don't have a choice about where you are headed. Would you like to be dragged along until you reach your destination, or worse; or would you rather grab the reins and steer yourself in?" Miles asked. The assurance in his voice reminded Ben of his father. Ben responded to his question, not with words, but with the single action of wiping away his tears. He sniffled a bit as he stood back up. Shame was painted across his face, but he was standing once again, ready to take a step forward.

"What do you suggest?" Ben asked. Donovan wrapped his arm around the boy with a joyful smile on his face.

"Well, seeing as how you already have one of the four items you need, I suggest we go after the rest. You've already proven yourself in one trial, what's another?" Miles asked with a sly smile.

"But why should we trust you?" Donovan asked. Ben felt better knowing that he wasn't the only one who had trouble taking this hooded man at his word. There was something about him that didn't seem trustworthy, but neither Ben nor Donovan could put a finger on the uneasy feeling they got around him.

"You two haven't been together long. When I last saw this boy, he was alone wandering in the woods. So, let me ask you..." Miles paused, waiting.

"It's Donovan," Ben said before his friend could.

"Right, so Donovan, why do you trust him?" he asked, pointing to Ben with a casual, fluid gesture.

"This isn't about the two of us," Ben butted in.

"Heh, of course it's not. Either way, I guess you shouldn't trust me, but I do know where you should go next. All I ask is that you take me with you," Miles said as he took a pipe from an unseen pouch. With a snap of his fingers the pipe lit and smoke puffed up as he inhaled. Ben was surprised by this and kind of amazed at the same time. The things he had seen were already impressive, but the slight magic seemed more real and attainable than the other bizarre things he had experienced.

"What's in it for you?" Ben asked, with a suspicious glint in his eye.

"That's it. I only want the company and the protection it brings. I have my own reasons for going, and seeing as how you are going too, why not go together? You know, safety in numbers and all that," Miles said. Ben looked away, pondering the proposal. Did he have a choice? Donovan flashed him a look out of the corner of his eye and Ben knew that he didn't.

"So, where to?" Ben asked with no small amount of reluctance. "The old man didn't translate any locations, only the items I need."

"Aye, and I've seen one of those items before," Miles said.

"Where?" Ben asked, perking up.

With a slight laugh that seemed to stop just short of a chuckle, Miles replied, "Atlantis."

### Chapter Twelve

The three of them stood in the thick forest peering down into a huge opening in the ground, examining the darkness below. The cave was deeper than any of them could see, and around the edges was a tiny set of stairs that spiraled down into the depths. Its location seemed random to Ben as he tried to wrap his head around yet another impossible scenario. Here he was getting ready to walk into another dark place filled with unknown creatures. Taking the medallion from his pocket, he held it close to his chest for a moment and closed his eyes. With a single breath, he opened them again and placed it back into his pocket, ready to move on.

"This is the path to Atlantis? I thought it was surrounded by oceans, you know, like an island," Ben said.

"Just follow me," Miles said, after a slight laugh at Ben's expense.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Donovan asked Ben, who just shrugged his shoulders.

"What choice do we have?" Ben replied.

Miles' started to speak, but the sound of his words was inaudible. Ben's eye went wide with surprise as Miles' hand burst into flames. It's intense heat was easily felt on Ben's face, but Mile wasn't bothered by it. Using it like a torch, helit the way as they descended the tiny walkway.

Ben felt his back scrapping against the rock wall as he sidestepped his way down. The light from Miles' hand was weak, offering them little in the way of illumination, but after what felt like a thousand steps, Ben's feet touched level ground and it didn't matter anymore. His anxiety slowed to a controllable panic, and he started breathing again. Before him was a wide-open tunnel with a dim light at the end.

The three of them walked, pushing large, moist dangling roots out of their way until the tunnel ended and they stood on a ledge hanging over a huge grotto that was lit by glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling. This grabbed Ben's attention, blinding him to the large stone city below them. Donovan hit him on the shoulder and pointed down at the massive domain that rested upon a flat smooth floor. Ben's breath caught in his throat as he beheld the impressive sight of large buildings and structures, surrounded by giant statues of kings or gods. Upon his first glance he saw human visages, but closer examination revealed that the faces were reptilian.

"What's going on down there? That's not Atlantis, is it?" Ben asked, pointing.

"You'll see soon enough. First we have to make a slight detour. Hide your sword in my cloak; its glint will attract unwanted attention," Miles said, removing his garment and handing it to Ben. The boy did as he was told without taking his eyes off the stone kingdom.

"This passage was once heavily guarded, but now with everything that's going on, the Lemurians have started staying closer to their home. Regardless, it's still not safe for us to hang around here. Once we get far enough away, we will rest for the night. You two have already had a tough enough day as it is; we could all use the rest," Miles said.

His words alarmed Donovan though, prompting him to speak up. "Wait, why do we have to camp far away from the city?"

"So we don't get eaten. Now, can we please be off?" Miles asked, walking into the darkness. His lack of patience worried Ben, but there was no time to question his frustration.

After the city had been out of view for a while, Miles took a lantern from his pouch and shook it. Its faint glow started up slow, gradually turning into a bright light that was too blinding to scrutinize. Each time Ben looked at it, white spots invaded his vision, disorienting him. He felt stupid for being drawn into its brilliance, but there was something curious about the way the light pulsed and moved. At one point, he even caught Donovan staring into it, but was unwilling to ask what he saw. This went on for over an hour as they continued to walk before Ben finally spoke.

"I can't go on," he said. "I need to rest my legs."

"Yeah, I feel the exact same way," Donovan added.

"This place is fine. We are far enough away from the city to set up a small camp. Did either of you bring bed rolls?" Miles asked. A slight grin pulled his lips apart as he saw the look on their faces. "The hard ground for you, I see." Miles placed the lantern on the ground in the middle of the narrow path. The light shone out past the ledge, revealing a deep trench. After handing Miles back his jacket, Ben decided to place his back against the wall instead of towards the imposing darkness.

Ben and Donovan did what they could to get comfortable against the rocky terrain. It was cold and hard, but this didn't matter; rest was all that they could think of for the time being. They lay for a while without saying a word, each lost in his own world of thought until Ben finally broke the silence.

"So, where are we headed?"

"The obvious answer is Atlantis, but I'm sure that's not what you mean. Unfortunately, I've never been to Atlantis, and I only know one person that has. She is going to meet us in Lemuria, the city you saw," Miles said, taking a puff from his pipe. The aroma was unlike anything Ben had smelled before.

"So why aren't we down there meeting up with her?" Donovan asked. Ben would have beaten him too it, but he expected a snub remark or witty putdown instead of a straightforward answer.

"Because Lemuria isn't a friendly place for humans to visit. We are on our way to meet up with another... friend of mine so we can disguise ourselves. You two really need to stop questioning me so much and show a little trust," he said, settling in against his bedroll that was propped up against a large rock.

Rather than continue to pester Miles, Ben focused on the lantern like one would a large campfire. The pulsing glow seemed alive as it radiated out on to the cold stone of the cave. Eerie shadows formed on everything as the light pulsed and fluctuated in an unintentional dance.

"Your lantern...it moves unlike any light I've ever seen before." Ben said, asking a question without intent.

"You noticed, huh?" Miles said with a pleased smile on his face. "I'm rather proud of it, actually." He picked up the lantern and scooted closer to Ben, holding it up to the boy's face. This action revealed hundreds of little insects that let off a continuing effulgence. "I had to catch every single one of them. It was kind of a hassle, but worth it in the end."

Ben watched the condensed swarm flying and crawling around inside the glass lantern. There was something inside with them, beneath their tiny bodies, which contrasted with their glow. He examined it and immediately pulled away when he noticed a partially devoured human hand.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ben asked, panicked.

"Yeah, it is," Miles said, unaffected.

"What is it?" Donovan asked, crawling in closer. He backed off as well once he became privy to the reason for Ben's disgust. "A human hand?"

"Those things eat human flesh?" Ben added. "Get it away from me!" He turned his head in revulsion.

Ben and Donovan lay there in silence, watching Miles as he gazed at the bugs behind the glass. They reminded Ben of lightning bugs, but they didn't spark or flicker. It was just one constant gleam that now brought thoughts of death and decay. The lantern had once sparked a strong curiosity in him, but now it only kindled a sense of disgust with the same hypnotic efficiency. He waited for the moment Miles would put out the light by whatever means, but that time never came. They all rested as the horrible little creatures fought back the darkness.

Lying against the wall, Ben thought he saw something move in the shadows. Getting up, he pointed, alerting the other two. "There's something out there," he said.

"What? What are you talking about?" Miles asked, getting up. He and Donovan both looked out into the wall of darkness and saw nothing. Waving the lantern around, Miles investigated the best he could.

"It moved. I don't know what, but I saw it," Ben said, inching closer to the wall.

"Oh, things move in the shadows all the time. I don't think we have anything to worry about. Let's get some rest. If you want, you can stand guard for a while." Miles handed him back his weapon.

"Okay," Ben said, taking the sword and sliding down the wall, back into a seated position. He watched his companions drift off into sleep as he sat there in that dark cavern, worried and paranoid, looking for any signs of movement.

### Chapter Thirteen

"It should be just around this corner," Miles said, stopping the small group. Before them was a giant boulder that sat on the path, blocking their view. "Donovan, I'm gonna need you to stay here until we get back. The old hag isn't too fond of people she doesn't know, so two people will already be too many. She's already going to hate meeting Ben, so it's best to keep the number down, sorry. Trust me when I say you're better off."

Donovan pulled Ben to the side and tried to whisper in his ear. "I don't trust him. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"We've been over this. We don't really have a choice in the matter. Are you going to be okay here?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, as long as he doesn't leave those damn bugs here. I'd rather stand here in this dark cave alone," he replied.

"Do you have anything but the bugs for light?" Ben asked Miles. He watched as Miles dug through his bag and pulled out a small pouch. He bent over and poured it out onto the ground at Donovan's feet. With the same impressive snap, the pile of dust ignited and burned a bright green color.

"Trust me when I say I wouldn't pour out a pouch of dried will-o-wisps for just anyone. You two owe me, big time. As long as the flame burns, and you stay within its light, you should be protected. Now, it's time for us to go," Miles said, turning to Ben, who then turned to Donovan.

"We'll be back soon," Ben said, unsure if his words held any truth. He looked at the grown man like a parent would its child. The heavy burden Donovan represented had been weighing heavily on his shoulders since they left Eden. As he walked away with Miles, he almost wished Donovan would be gone when they got back. He didn't want the man dead, just gone.

As Miles and Ben maneuvered around the boulder, a small domicile came into view. It didn't have the appearance of having been constructed, but seemed formed from the very stone itself. It rose up out of ground like a large stalagmite with an opening and stairs that descended to the rock floor. There were no windows, and the only opening other than the entrance was a hole that had an abundance of smoke rising up from it. All around the small cave-like building were lines with leather hides hanging from them.

"I take it this is the place?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, look, try not to say much. I really want to get in and out as quickly as possible. Morgause can be a little chatty at times, and I have to meet Diostist in Lemuria soon. In, out, that's how we are going to play this. Now, give me your money," Miles said.

"I don't have any money," Ben said.

"What? How can you not have money? Oh well, never mind. I'll take care of it for you, but I want you to pay me back as soon as you can," Miles said, turning to walk up the stairs. Ben couldn't help but notice the pile of bleached bones that were collecting behind the structure. It was at least waist high and as big around as the building itself. Reluctant to ask, Ben kept his mouth shut for the time being. Ben couldn't help but think about all the bones he had seen over the last couple of days. All around him was death and decay, eating at his morale and courage.

"Aye, what do we have here?" said a dry raspy voice. Both of them turned to see a rickety old woman with the face of a hag and just a few teeth in her mouth. Before anything else, Ben noticed that her breasts were exposed, escaping from her patchwork robe of brown and dark green. Boils and loose hairs covered her exposed flesh, which was pale and flaky. Covering her ancient body, her pale skin was almost translucent from how the years had worn it thin. Her hair was black with many grey streaks and gaps from where it was thinning. The most haunting part was her blackened puffy eyes, which looked wide and piercing as she made eye contact with him.

Standing crooked and short with the help of a long stick, she seemed frail. Ben could see the blue veins running their way through her body like crooked, broken lines on a map. Her wretched appearance was enough to make Ben swallow the collected spit in his mouth in one large gulp.

"Miles! How have ya' been, sweetheart?" she asked, like a grandmother would, with a rotten grin that smelled like death. "It's been awhile since ya' last came up to this old shack."

"It's been awhile since I've needed anything," Miles said. "Tell me; is Lemuria still at war with the Atlanteans? We have some business with both and I need to know what we're getting into." He reached into a small pouch, pulling out a coin and tossing it to her with a single fluid motion. With a speed that belied her age, she caught it with her bony fingers and then bit it to test the coin's authenticity. With a satisfied grin, she pulled it from her mouth and placed it in her pocket.

"Aye, they are; but there's been an interesting development. Looks like Atlantis has finally taken a serious blow. Things are going under for the old water worshipers. They had a leg up, until Azothothus came to Lemuria and shifted the tides of war," she said.

"He's here? Do you have any idea of his business?" Miles asked.

Ben picked up on the nervousness in Miles' voice and felt a chill run down his spine. Here was a man who seemed to be on top of things, and yet he was scared of this man, Azothothus. That alone was enough to scare Ben. "Who is Azothothus?" he asked.

"Oh dear, step inside; we obviously have a lot to talk about," she said, waving them in. Miles flashed him a look, showing his disapproval of this sudden question.

Inside was a large collection of glass and crystal set up like the chemistry sets he had seen at school. He watched as a flame would light this end of a tube, and the contents would rise up and collect in another, condensed and ready to be mixed. Ben was never good as chemistry, but he understood the basics, which was enough to gather what the old witch was doing. The walls were covered in cluttered shelves overflowing with jars and containers that held all sorts of goo and fluids that were unknown to him. She pointed toward a small cot, indicating that they should sit down and get comfortable.

"You aren't from here, are you boy?" she asked, hobbling over to a chair.

"No, I'm not," Ben replied, reluctant to explain in detail where he came from.

"It's been a very long time since I've seen someone from your world," she said, resting her weight against her work area.

"Wait, you aren't suggesting that this boy is..." Miles broke in, looking surprised by this sudden revelation.

"Aye, I am. How could you not notice? Are you getting dense on me?" she asked with a crooked jack-o'-lantern smile. "I didn't take you under my wing just to have you fall apart once you got on your own."

"It doesn't matter now," Miles said.

"Aye, it doesn't. Now, on to your question, lad. Should I tell him, or do you want to?" She looked at Miles before she poured some white powder onto a wooden block.

"Go ahead," he replied to the witch, who was now chopping and sorting different herbs.

"Do you know what the hollow are?" she asked.

"I've heard the term, but I'm only vaguely familiar with what they are. Something about the negative aspects of man?" Ben asked, watching as a small winged figure fluttered around the room until it finally stopped and hovered in front of him. He examined it and saw a tiny beautiful woman with shiny transparent wings like an insect. He marveled at her for a moment until the lightning-fast hand of the witch snatched her out of the air in a single motion. A hard crunching sound filled the room as she smashed the miniature woman in her palm.

"Filthy creatures," the witch said as she wiped the gooey remains on her robe, leaving a repulsive stain mashed across her thigh.

Ben was aghast at this dreadful action and sat there with his mouth agape. With one finger and slight smile, she pushed his chin up with the same hand she had crushed the tiny creature with. With a look of disgust, he pulled away from her and wiped his face on his sleeve.

"Why did you do that?" Ben asked.

"Your mouth was hanging open, no telling what might fly in," she said.

"No, I mean why did you kill that..." Ben started.

"It's a fairy, and they have ways of spreading disease and stirring up trouble where they aren't wanted," she replied.

"But..." Ben started again.

"No buts! I won't have any buts in my house," she said as she hobbled over to her shelves and pulled out some more additives and started mixing the concoction inside of a crucible. She said a few words, causing a flame to ignite underneath it. A few moments later, she poured the substance into two small containers.

"The hollow, my dear, are more than just representations of negative human emotions. That's like saying death is only a product of man's demise, when death actually took the first men and opened their eyes to the reality of life. The hollow taught us how to hate and steal from the moment we crawled out of the trees and into the grasses. They have been there, lurking in the darkness of our minds since the dawn of man, and Azothothus has become their...emissary. Every action he takes is to facilitate their release back into the world," she said, handing them each a cup full of frothing liquid.

"I've heard that there are coming back, and you just talked about their release. What does this mean? Where are they?" Ben asked, taking the drink while maintaining eye contact.

"Who knows?" she said with a grunt as she sat down. "Their stories are older than any I've read, and most are only accounted for in that book you hold in your lap. Don't let it out of your sight; it's an important tome. As far as Azothothus goes, I wouldn't be in such a hurry to learn about him, but I'll tell you what I know. He's a powerful sorcerer and a learned mage. He was born long ago to a race that no longer exists and has made it his sole mission to bring the hollow back to the world. Some say that they chose him specifically and speak to him in his dreams. Keep in mind this is all just speculation. Only he knows the truth. Either way, he's bad news for just about anyone that gets in his way. I suggest you stay as far away from him as you possibly can."

"Don't listen too closely to her, Ben; she likes to fill people's heads with stories of the bogie man by blowing certain things out of proportion," Miles said. "Now, let's get on with business."

"Let me guess, you need some charms so that you can enter Lemuria? You know, Acheron can take you straight to the ocean if you can get a boat that can traverse the jagged waters," she said. Ben thought he noticed a hint of worry in her voice. This conjured a sense of dread in his stomach that started to grow.

"That wretched river? Yeah, and if anything happened, we'd be lost to the underworld forever. I'd rather take my chances with the child-eating lizards of Lemuria," Miles said.

"Child-eating?" Ben asked.

"It's just an expression, dear," the witch said. The endearing tone in her voice was off-putting when juxtaposed with her hideous features.

"You bring up Azothothus, but then you sugar-coat the Lemurians' dining habits?" Miles asked Morgause. "Let's just get our charms so we can get out of here."

"Yes, let's," she replied, handing them both another cup of frothy liquid. "Don't worry, sweetheart, there's no surprises in this one. I have too much going on today to be messing around with you." She placed her hand on the bottoms of the cups, getting ready to force the disgusting fluid down their throats, but Ben stopped her. Taking the cup from her hand, he turned it up and drank it himself and handed it back to her.

"The last time I was here, she ended up paralyzing me for over a week. She sat me up in the corner here and laughed at me as her customers threw things and spit into my mouth," Miles said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. She threw him a wide, empty grin that did nothing to help his mood

"That's what happens when you get caught stealing from me. Be thankful I considered that payment enough and let you keep coming back."

"I single-handedly made you the wealthy woman you are today. It was me that suggested this business idea when the war started up!" Miles said, as if trying to rationalize his actions.

"The war has gotten pretty damn bad, Miles, but as you'd say, bad war makes for good business. Here, spit," she said, holding the empty cups out in front of them. Miles complied with a long snort and thick wad of spit. Disgusted, Ben followed his lead. "I have to make my charms by the dozens now, so people can smuggle themselves in and out of Lemuria." She took what was left of the concoction and stirred it in a smaller bowl. She took a couple of other things from the shelves and mixed them all together in a wooden bowl, and then dumped the contents in to leathery pouches and pulled the drawstrings, tightening them closed. "It's only going to get worse until one of the cities finally falls, and right now, it looks like it's going to be Atlantis."

"Enough with the chatter. We are in a hurry," Miles said.

"Ya' never were a patient one. Here you go," she said, handing them each one of the small pouches. Covering the thing was an assortment of bones and insect carapaces that had been sewed into the fabric. He wondered how much of it was for decoration and how much was for practical use.

"Thanks, again," Miles said as he stood up and readied his things for travel. Ben decided to do the same and got up to follow him. As he did, he realized the sword he was carrying had become something of a burden. Struggling to keep it wrapped in the jacket and tucked under his arm, he groaned in frustration.

"My charms will hide a sword as well. You just have to keep it close to your body at all times. I think I have something that will help," she said, digging through a crate of junk she kept in the corner. Ben watched as she dug a scabbard out of the box and handed it to him. "Take it; this one is on me."

"Thank you. I wish there was some way I could pay you back," Ben said. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear.

"Don't worry; I'll get my money from Miles. With a sword like that, you'll want to keep it close, okay? Both the sword and the book are very valuable. Don't give them to anyone, not even Miles."

"How much do I owe you?" Miles asked, rummaging through his money purse. He pulled out a few more gold coins and she grabbed all of them.

"This should be enough," she said.

"Your prices get steeper each time I see you," Miles said.

"That's because I like you less each time I see you," she replied.

"Come on, Ben," he said, not acknowledging her comment.

The two of them stepped out of the building and onto the hard stone ground again. With the door shut behind them, Ben turned and started adjusting his new scabbard to fit around his shoulder. Miles turned and took the leather straps in his hands and started helping.

"Listen, don't worry about her. She's old and has too many bones to pick with too many people. The stuff she was saying about the hollow and Azothothus, it's true, but it's not something you need to worry yourself with," Miles said. With the pull of a strap and the snap of a buckle, the leather harness was secured on Ben's shoulder. After examining the sword for a second, Miles took the weapon and put it on the boy's back. Standing before Miles, with his weapon in place stood a boy, who was the prospect of a man; the promise of something greater.

"Come on; let's get going before our friend gets worried." Miles said.

"Wait, I can't help but wonder about the hollow. Please help me understand," Ben pleaded.

"They are...monstrous beings that are said to come from the blackness between the stars. Their presence here alone is enough to disrupt the balance in men's hearts. Even though they have been missing for a very long time, they still have an effect on us, and there are people out there who worship them," Miles said.

"Like Azothothus?" Ben asked. Miles put his hand on the boy's shoulder and stared him right in the eye.

"Azothothus is something else. Some say he was born for the sole purpose of bringing them back to this world and that all his scheming and planning is for this mission alone. Whatever is happening with Atlantis and Lemuria, it's because it somehow fits into his goals. Come on, we really need to get going," he said.

They turned the corner where the boulder blocked their view, and Donovan was standing there with a strange, scared look on his face. It was as if he was frozen in place, until he mouthed the words, "I'm sorry." Out of the shadows moved a figure that was so fast; it was gone again before they could pinpoint it. Their heads darted back and forth as they tried to gain sight of their enemy.

"Ada...Donovan, are you okay?" Ben asked, rushing over to him. The frantic nature of the situation caused his slip-up, but there wasn't time to worry about it. The unseen creature came at them again, but this time his body became visible in the dim light. Standing before them, with two curved daggers that resembled the fangs of a snake, was a reptilian man wearing boots and a loincloth. One of his shoulders was covered by an arm guard, and draped over his head was a dark hood. The humanoid stood there like a savage with scaly skin that shifted in color like a chameleon. Through the dark barrier of the hood were two yellow eyes, slit up the middle by an inhuman iris.

"Get back!" Miles said, pushing Ben to the side. Their attacker came at them with its blades focused on the kill. With a few words and a wave of his hand, Miles conjured a spell that brought the ground up in a pillar that worked like a shield. The creature landed against it on all fours and crawled around it with blinding speed, almost defying gravity itself. Within a second, he was in the air again, hurtling toward his prey.

Fumbling for the blade, Ben pulled his sword and tried to grasp it, readying himself for battle. The creature parried his pathetic strike and then kicked him back before going at Miles again. The wizard procured his own dagger just in time to guard against his foe's lightning-fast attack. With fast reflexes, he managed to cut open his opponent's cheek, almost blinding him. The red blood rolled down like a tear from its unflinching eye as he attacked, relentless and skilled, until Miles fell. As his back hit the ground, he launched a fireball into the reptilian's face, blinding him for just a moment. Ben took this opportunity to strike him in the head with his sword. Unable to control the blade, he only hit the creature with the blunt side instead of the sharp edge, but it gained the adversary's attention nonetheless.

Miles scrambled to his feet just in time to see the attacker turn his attention to Ben. Donovan jumped at him, but took the short blade to the side and fell to the ground as his clothes turned dark red with blood. Standing over a frightened Ben, their antagonist kneeled down, fighting off Ben's sad attempts at defense, and came in for the deathblow. Ben screamed for his life at the same moment the reptilian man shrieked and then died. Standing over them both was an exhausted Miles with the fumes of a spent spell still steaming from his palm.

Ben shuffled up in a panic and checked his entire body for wounds. There were none, but his attention was shifted to the cries of his fallen friend, Donovan. Scrambling over to help him, he saw the wounded man grasping his side as blood poured out. Miles moved Ben out of the way and tore open the shirt that was now soaked in the red fluid.

"It'll be okay," Ben said, grabbing his friend's hand. "What can I do?" he asked Miles, panicking. "I'll go get Morgause!"

"No, her camp won't be there anymore. Besides, I need you here. Just be sure to listen to my directions," Miles said, working without emotion in his voice. Rummaging through his things, the mage pulled out a set of doctor's tools and started digging around the wound. "I'm going to need some water for the poultice. Get me my canteen out of my bag," he said to Ben, who complied. "Make him sniff this, it's for the pain," Miles said. Ben held the white powder under his friend's nose. Donovan took a deep snort and coughed as Ben handed it back to Miles. The mage poured what was left on the wound and then started sewing it up.

After a few minutes, they both sat back and started breathing again. Donovan was asleep and the situation had become less hectic. Exhausted, Ben took his time before finally opening his mouth to ask the dreaded question.

"Will he be okay?"

"He should," Miles said. "There are no signs of poison and the organs look undamaged, so that's a good sign. We are lucky that wasn't a true assassin; otherwise, we'd all be dead. They tip their weapons in powerful poisons that slow their victims and eventually kill."

"Thank you for saving us. Really, you could have bailed at any moment and left us here to die, or worse. I don't know how I could ever repay you for this," Ben said.

"Don't mention it; I'd just hope you'd do the same for me," Miles said. "So, that thing you are carrying. What is it?"

"What thing?" Ben asked.

"Earlier, at the cave mouth, you held something up to your chest," Miles said, pointing.

"Oh, yeah, that thing," Ben replied, pulling the medallion out of his pocket. He tossed it to Miles, who caught it with both hands. He examined it and then tossed it back.

"Interesting symbol. What does it mean?" he asked.

"I'm not sure honestly, but my grandfather always said it had to do with the collection of heaven, earth, and humans. He always insisted that it would give me strength and courage if I wore it. As a kid, I never did, even though he insisted. He was always superstitious like that," Ben said.

"Sounds like he cared about you a lot," Miles said.

"Yeah, he was my friend," Ben said, looking down at it with sadness in his eyes.

"So, has it worked? You know, given you strength and all?" Miles asked.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Ben replied with a slight laugh.

"What about him?" Miles nodded toward Donovan. "You looked pretty panicked when you saw all the blood; afraid of death or just emotionally invested in this guy?" He wiped away the collected sweat from his brow.

"I...I'm invested because he's my responsibility," Ben said, unsure of his words.

"How does a grown man become a boy's responsibility? He's obviously not your father," Miles said. Ben didn't say anything for a while, making the situation between them uncomfortable. "I didn't step over any boundaries, did I?" the mage asked.

"No, I just don't know how to say it," Ben said. "Basically, when I was in Eden, I...I used the fruit to bring him back from the dead. I plucked him up from whatever paradise he was in and brought him back into all of this. It's my fault he is here, and now I have to take care of him. I don't know how to explain it any other way."

"Wait, you're telling me he's Ad—" Miles started, but was stopped by Ben's quick shushing.

"Don't say it!"

The two of them sat in silence for a long time after that and then fell asleep, too exhausted to find a better place to hide. Ben awoke before the other two and got up to walk around. He checked on the sleeping, stabilized Donovan before making his way behind the boulder that separated them from the witch's home. What he saw showed him that Miles was indeed right; the entire camp was gone. The only thing left there was the flat space on the ground where her house once stood.

### Chapter Fourteen

The three of them stood in the subterranean hollow, looking down on the gigantic city of Lemuria. The tunnel that brought them here had a cool breeze flowing from it that crashed against their backs and helped relieve them of the musty smell of the cave. Miles did what he could to hold up the injured Donovan, who clasped at his wounded side. Ben stared down at the city with wonder and fear mixed in his eyes. Inside its large walls was a race of human-eating reptilians that lived for war, but at the same time he couldn't help but marvel at the immense architecture. For whatever reason, he felt confident that everything was going to work out.

"It's time to put on our charms," Miles said, helping Donovan stand on his own. From his satchel, he pulled out the charms that Morgause had given them. He held three little brown leather pouches in his hand that were weighted with a strange powdery concoction. Standing in front of Donovan, Miles took one pouch and emptied its contents into his hand. After speaking a few incoherent words, he flicked the ash like substance on to Donovan's face and then put the pouch around the man's neck. Moving to Ben, he stood there for a moment examining the boy. Ben held the large book in his hand and the silver sword on his back. Wearing blue jeans, and a collared red shit, he looked rather strange as he stood on the cusp of a strange new world full of frightful monsters and an evil that lurked behind every corner.

"Are you ready?" he asked Ben, who nodded in return. Miles performed the same ritual for Ben and then repeated it for himself. They all stood there for a moment before the mage took the first step down the hill.

The gigantic cave was so vast that Ben felt insubstantial walking around beneath the encroaching darkness that surrounded them. The visibility in the cave wasn't very good, but with the torchlight, Ben could see the path. He turned to ask Miles a question about their plan but came face to face with a lizard-faced monster. Donovan turned to look as well and almost jumped out of his skin. It took the two of them a moment to realize that they were looking at one another. This amused Miles a bit, as he watched them grope each other in the low light of the cavern.

"Come on, you two, we have to keep moving if we are going to get into the city before they lock the gates," he said, before noticing the glances they were giving him. "Don't worry, it's just an illusion."

"A very convincing one," Donovan said.

"Yeah, I can feel the difference with my fingers," Ben said, rubbing his scaly skin.

"We don't have a lot of time. Just know that this won't last long and we have a lot to do," Miles said.

The three of them wound through the cave, down a curvy path with a field of craggy rocks on each side. They came to a place where the ceiling and floor connected in a natural archway with a honeycomb of recesses running up and down each side. Ben saw that the only light source in this part of the cave was a strange mold growing on the rock surface that had a dull phosphorescent glow. The moisture that clung to the walls intensified the iridescent lighting and helped them see through the darkness. They examined one of the nooks and discovered a tiny room full of personal belongings. There was a bedroll and a chest with a few books and half-melted candles placed around. It was a small, sad domicile, even for the wretched creature that lived there. There was little room and the items stored within were old and decrepit. It reminded Ben of the things he had seen in a secondhand store.

"What is this?" Ben asked, looking around.

"The mine workers live here. This is their home," Miles said, piquing Donovan's interest as well. The place was deserted, giving them the eerie feeling of late night trespassing as they looked into each little hole. The humble living quarters were sad and cramped, forcing them to walk through single file. The smell reminded Ben of the dirty laundry that sometimes built up in his room; that musky odor of sweat and bacteria that mingled into a stench that couldn't be mistaken.

"What a sad little home," Ben said.

"Well, it's better than no home at all," Donovan came back.

"How's your side?" Ben asked, noticing that he wasn't limping as bad.

"It's getting better by the minute. Whatever he gave me, it's working," Donovan said.

"The city shouldn't be much farther now," Miles said, leading them on. The small tunnel opened up into an extensive grotto. The city was now just a few hundred feet in front of them with its tall walls and colossal statues that stood there passing cold stone judgment on Ben's tiny stature. The scaffolding that ran up had a number of reptilian men standing on it with their tools, working to reshape each from their original human form into the likeness of a reptile. Outside of the gates was a long line of reptilian people waiting to get in. Most of them were miners with carts full of mined ore and other rocks, ready to be delivered.

"Let's get in line; hopefully it won't be long," Miles said, taking position behind a Lemurian man with a crooked back and a heavy load of tools in his hands. The poor twisted man had the distinctive look of defeat on his face and carried the aura of the soullessness that came with it. Even though he couldn't relate, Ben still felt sad for the Lemurian. He could see the struggle with every movement the reptile made, and understood how hard his life must have been.

"Take your mind off of it for now. We have a long journey before us and stress like this will only drag you down," Donovan said picking up on Ben's sadness.

"Yeah," Ben replied. He knew Donovan was right and tried his best to choke down the feelings of sorrow that were rising in his throat.

"Tell me, what else do you know about me?" Donovan asked. The dreaded question had rolled off the man's lips and Ben wasn't prepared to answer it.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Ben said, trying to dodge the issue.

"I don't know, I just can't shake this feeling of separation and longing. It's like I'm missing something from my life. Maybe it's not something, but someone, like a lover or family member. If that were true, it could explain my connection with you," Donovan smiled.

"I honestly don't know anything. I found you there and took you in as you were. If there were more to tell, I would," Ben said, trying to end the conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miles flash him a glance. The look was almost too telling for Ben's comfort, but he let it go. The three of them stood in silence for a long time, as the line got smaller and less daunting.

After an hour, they stood before the large stone gates, which were the size of mountains themselves, or at least that was how Ben saw them. He stood there marveling over the quality and craftsmanship that was so apparent in the swinging doors. They must have been five feet thick and five times as tall, each carved from one solid piece of stone—an impressive feat in itself. The gargantuan wall that surrounded the city had similar dimensions, but was stationary and in places was carved from the stone face itself.

Nervousness crept into Ben's stomach as they stood there waiting to pass the guards and be admitted into the city. The knot tied in his guts was intense, but he felt safe with his new friends. Time and trial had brought them closer together and he could feel something stirring within that gave him hope that one day, it wouldn't be so scary anymore. He looked at Miles, and then at Donovan, and felt hopeful. Even the sense of responsibility he felt for Donovan didn't seem so heavy now that he had shared the secret with Miles. They stood there together; ready to face whatever came as the guards waved them up.

Standing there before the lizard men, Ben noticed how these Lemurians were more brutish, as if bred for the physical labor of guarding the entrance. Their bodies had spines and thick scales with multicolored patches. Their muscular builds were intimidating to behold as he stood there looking up at them. Their scrutinizing eyes passed over him as they spoke in a strange tongue that he couldn't understand. Donovan glanced back at him with the same worried look on his face, which calmed as Miles spoke in the same unfamiliar language of guttural sounds and sharp whistles.

Ben watched their glares, convinced that they weren't buying whatever story Miles was giving them. Panic hit the back of his throat, drying out his mouth. He knew they were caught when the two hulking sentinels stepped in closer. As they did, an explosion ripped through the wall to their left, exciting the crowd of people behind them, who then dispersed into a riot of screams and hysteria. Miles grabbed Ben and Donovan as the two guards ran toward the action. He pulled them into the city just in time to watch the doors slam closed with a thunderous boom.

It wasn't until they were standing in the courtyard behind the gates that they breathed again. They looked around, unable to comprehend what had just happened. In the distance, they could still hear the sounds of commotion coming from behind the walls. Another explosion shook the ground, and they tried their best to get out of the way as a group of guards barreled past them. The stampede of soldiers almost crushed Ben, who hadn't moved as quickly as the others.

"Come on," Miles yelled, leading them away from the chaos.

Ben was expecting the place to resemble the dingy cave system they had just passed through, but before him was a beautiful city with long well-crafted streets and amazing architecture. The buildings weren't like anything he had seen before; most looked as if they had been carved straight from the stone itself. Above his head was a collection of catwalks that connected most of the buildings together by hanging rope bridges. The soft glow of the lights was the most interesting attribute of the strange city because it radiated from large crystals of various colors. Closer inspection showed that the brilliant gems were a naturally forming occurrence that the inhabitants had managed to cultivate into a viable source of illumination.

Miles led their small group into a bazaar with low hanging canopies and fat wooden kiosks that cluttered the gravel walkways. Hundreds of people crowded the streets as they acted out the play of their ordinary lives, uncaring of the dangerous pandemonium erupting outside. They felt safe inside their fortress city, despite the war that was now standing on their front step, demanding it be let in. Ben wondered if any of them even knew the extent of what was going on. He even searched the crowd for a glimpse of Azothothus, despite the fear the man invoked.

"Are you sure they can't see us?" Ben asked, trying to relax.

"If they haven't yet, they aren't going to," Miles replied.

It wasn't hard for the three of them to disappear into the crowds, because the reptilian Lemurians weren't interested in anything but their own personal problems. Ben watched as they rushed around to the different stores and markets, buying and trading their wares, each trying to haggle for the lowest price. It was interesting to watch these beings, who seemed so alien to him, living out lives that weren't so different from his own. Though the setting and race were different, the actions were very familiar. In the mishmash of people, Ben fixed his gaze on the eyes of a person that seemed to know him. As they stood there making eye contact through the sea of people, Miles spoke up.

"Good eye, that's her. Follow me," he said with a wave, leaving the two of them behind. Ben and Donovan traded a questioning look before following Miles. The three of them trailed the slow-moving woman into a dark, cramped alleyway with no exit. The street here was empty, making it the perfect meeting place for the four of them.

She was a Lemurian woman with light green scales and huge lidless eyes with slits like a snake. Her clothing was nothing but a humble cloth that covered the important parts. Ben couldn't help but notice her lack of female anatomy, but still had little trouble distinguishing her sex from the big bulky males that wandered around like brutes. Miles stood face to face with the woman for a moment before saying anything.

"Diostist, it's been too long," he said, leaning in for a hug. She didn't bother reciprocating the affection, but rather pulled away from his embrace.

"You shouldn't have come here. Things aren't stable enough for you to be pulling your shit," she replied.

"Shit? We only need safe passage to Atlantis," Miles said with a slight grin.

"And you thought you could get it here?" she came back with obvious anger.

"You are the only person I know who's been there; otherwise, I wouldn't be here bothering you. If you are so pissed, why did you agree to meet us?" Miles asked. Ben and Donovan stood watching the drama between the two build up.

"Because I missed you," she said, coming in for a surprising kiss. Miles reciprocated the sentiment by meeting her lips and the two collided with intense affection that left the onlookers stunned. Standing before Ben and Donovan were two unnatural-looking creatures pressing against each other with all the passion of young lovers. After a moment, she pulled away.

"I can't be seen like this; my husband would have me killed for sure, but please know that I have missed you." She looked into Miles' eyes.

"And I, you," he replied. "So, about our problem."

"Yes, it's going to take me little while to get it figured out. Do you have anything you can be doing, or anywhere you can go?" she asked. The obvious concern in her voice was striking. Ben was surprised to see that someone was actually capable of caring for the callous wizard he had come to know. Even though he had saved their lives, Ben had thought of him as self-serving.

"I guess we could wander around the market until you get back," he said.

"If you must. I'd prefer you hide somewhere, but with all the turmoil, getting back into the city would be impossible. Here," she said, handing him a coin purse. Miles opened it and poured a few of the coins out. "They were minted here so you won't raise suspicion when you use them. Just be sure to interact with the people as little as possible. I'll find you when I'm ready." Then she left them.

"What was that all about?" Ben asked Miles.

"We were lovers once," Miles said, a twinge of pain in his voice.

"She's a reptile. How does that even work?" Ben asked.

"She's not a reptile any more than you are," Miles came back.

"So, it's just an illusion then?" Donovan asked as they exited the alley.

"Right," Miles replied.

"What's the story there?" Ben asked.

"We met a long time ago and had different plans for our lives. She wanted to learn more about the Lemurians' magic, and I had my own plans. She worked with Morgause to create a powerful illusion and came here to live," Miles said. Ben wondered how much sorrow his friend felt. He and Diostist were still in love but couldn't bring themselves to compromise their goals for that love.

"If I could find love, I don't think I'd let it slip from my hands," Donovan said.

"Well, no one asked you," Miles said.

### Chapter Fifteen

They walked through the market looking at all the items for sale. Most of the vendors sold strange meats and other food products, but some were dedicated to the sale of peculiar items and interesting trinkets. It reminded Ben of the dealers that came into town a couple times a year to unload their junk on the people of his city. For a price, you could find all sorts of things that you didn't really need, but still wanted. Ben always thought of them as gypsies, even though his dad said that was a prejudiced thing to say.

The small group wandered aimlessly for a while as each scoped out the different wares. Miles would buy an herb or spice here and there and put it in one of his pouches. Donovan and Ben were forced to watch as he scoured each dealer for anything of use. They didn't speak much for the rest of the day, leaving the mystery of Diostist and Miles concealed. They eventually decided to split up and wander about alone.

Without a thought, Ben was standing in front of a building with a mug on its sign. Before him was a large tavern with a massive opening in the front that allowed him to see inside. It was filled with drunken Lemurian soldiers and busy reptilian bar maidens who were carrying cups of frothy liquid to round tables full of reptilian men. Ben was walking toward the bar when an arm unexpectedly curled around him and pulled him in, swinging him around. A large Lemurian man danced around the room with many of his friends cheering him on while Ben was caught in his hold. The two of them hopped and jumped around without spilling a drop of the Lemurian's drink. Even as he released the boy and grabbed onto a scaly bar maid, he still managed to consume every last drop with a smile. The lyrics to the song weren't in English, so Ben didn't understand them, but he could tell that the song was one of celebration by the way all of the soldiers joined in. The Lemurian suddenly crashed into another small group and a fight erupted.

Ben made his way out of the tavern and back on to the gravel street outside with haste. There from the crowded street, he watched as the group pounded on one another with a sadistic glee that only soldiers seemed to possess. He felt like one of the crowd standing there amongst all the natives, blending in. This lasted until the brawl spilled out onto the street, drawing the attention of the guards. Ben knew that this was as good a time to leave as any, and waded through the growing populace.

As he walked, he saw Donovan in one of the brick shops and decided to join him. His friend was standing there looking into a painting that depicted two people, lovers, being torn apart by an unseen force. He gazed at it without saying a word as Ben approached him from behind. The boy looked over his shoulder and knew exactly what was going on in Donovan's head. He was sick with an unknown feeling of separation. With his memories gone, he didn't know the love he had shared. This thought ate at Ben with an intense ferocity, but still he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"I miss her," Donovan said.

"Who?" Ben asked, knowing the answer already.

"I don't know, but I know that I miss her," he said. The distance in his voice placed him miles away, while his heart stood there, heavy with an unknown loss. Ben didn't know how to respond, so they stood there, both lost in the painting until a sound caught them and dragged them back into reality. Behind them rang the melodic rhythm of a battalion of soldiers marching in time. Ben and Donovan turned and watched as the formation advanced up the street toward the bar brawl. The paintings on the wall shook, causing the shopkeeper to panic a bit and grab for what he could.

"Let's get out of here," Ben said.

"Yeah," Donovan said, still not quite there with him.

They made a quick stop to watch the new commotion. There, at the bar, was a captain disciplining his soldiers for becoming unruly. Ben could only guess that they were needed at the front gate, because the drunken Lemurians fell in line and moved out. Their steps were out of time and sloppy as they tried to regain a small sense of sobriety. Ben watched as long as he could, mesmerized by all the new sights and sounds, until Donovan's hand pulled on his shoulder, beckoning him onward. They tried their best to stay inconspicuous as they wandered the crystal-lit streets.

They passed over a bridge at one point that led them into a park-like setting. All around was a thick green moss that reminded him of the grass he used to lay in, while the sun covered him like a warm blanket. In the middle was a large fountain that had a massive geyser-like crystal formation growing out of it. People were sitting and meditating on pedestals around the running water. It was a peaceful rock garden that beckoned them to stay, but the idea of relaxing in hostile territory was too off-putting for them.

After walking for a while, they found Miles going into a building with a glass vial on the sign. They followed him in, ready to reunite and get on their way. Inside the shop was shelf after shelf filled with intricate hand-blown vials and containers of all shapes and sizes. Some were plane clear glass, while others were shaped in the likeness of animals. Ben was astounded that an entire store would dedicate its time to vials. Oblivious to their presence, Miles was examining two different vials, measuring their size and weight in his hand. After a few moments of silence, he noticed Ben and Donovan and turned to them.

"Don't you think we should get back?" Ben asked.

"A few more hours," Miles said, returning to his shopping.

"I'm gonna go find a place to sit down," Donovan said, leaving the shop.

Not wanting to cause an argument, Ben followed him to the steps leading back out onto the street, but then stopped. He took the moment to catch his breath and look around at all the people. All the streetwalkers started clearing the pathway as a buggy pulled by Lemurian men barreled towards its destination. As he stood there, the sight captivated him. Planted firmly in place, content with staring, he saw the most beautiful human woman in the carriage passing by. Her fair skin and light hair only accented her alluring facial features. Ben heard the woman yell for her men to stop. They approached the window to speak with her and Ben's blood turned to ice as she pointed in his direction. Panicked and looking for a place to run, he started to take off, but before his feet could carry him away, two soldiers were standing there. When they spoke, Ben couldn't understand them and stood there wide eyed. They spoke again, and then waved him along, giving him enough instruction for him to follow. They followed the carriage down the street until it stopped at the end of the road, and then disappeared behind an arching gateway.

Before him stood the massive, luxurious palace built into the cave wall against the back of the city. All the roads led from this point, out to the surrounding walls. Its tall, sharp spires were connected to a large dome structure in the middle that appeared to be pure gold. The extravagance of the place was amazing when compared to the rest of the city. He could see the same glowing crystals on the walls, which were used for decoration and illumination. With a grunt, the guards inched him forward, talking to each other as they did. They walked him up to the back of the palace and said something incoherent, and then left. The boy was left to wander about until he heard a soothing sound that seemed to surround him. It drew his attention towards the back of the palace. In a daze, he pursued the sound without questioning its source.

In the back, behind the large wall, was another beautiful rock garden with more crystal geysers and strange plant life. The multitude of colors was breathtaking, as it melded together in a kaleidoscopic mosaic against the craggy rock walls. The walkways were the same moss he had seen in the park he and Donovan had come across earlier. All the beauty and extravagance made him wonder about the Lemurians and their culture even more. Almost lost, wandering through the garden, he heard the sound again, but this time, it was a whisper, like someone was standing behind him.

"Come to me," it said.

Without realizing it, Ben started walking, entranced by the sound of the soft elegant voice. As if in a dream, he walked through the courtyard and into the palace itself. The lower levels were illuminated by strong torchlight, which caused the shadows to move against the walls like ghosts clawing their way to freedom. Unlike the outside barriers, the bricks weren't covered with plaster or mold, so he could see every minor imperfection sprawled across it. The floors were large porous stones that had been placed here laboriously one at a time. Each one was a different color and shape, giving the floor a unique quality. He moved past an empty dungeon with rusted bars and doors, before finding the lichen-covered stairs that led to the upper levels of the palace.

Moving as if controlled by some unseen force, he took the winding stairs up to the third floor, ignoring all caution and fear, and found himself standing outside of a room. With her voice still in his ear he took the step over the threshold and stood, looking at her as she lay on the bed, waiting to be allowed in.

"I must admit, it took you longer than I thought you would. Your will must be strong, to be able to resist me at all. So, tell me, what is your business in Lemuria? Why have you come here disguised as one of these horrible animals?" she asked, waving her hand. She held a metal chalice imbedded with the same crystal stones that were scattered around the city.

Still bound by the spell, Ben wasn't capable of responding to her question. His sealed mouth wouldn't let him formulate the words he needed to answer. She realized what was happening and snapped her fingers to release her hypnotic hold on him. With the weight lifted from his shoulders, Ben immediately felt lighter and in control again. His mind came back to him as the cloud surrounding his thoughts dissipated.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen..." Ben said.

"I've heard that before," she said with a scoff. "Now answer my question. What are you doing in Lemuria? Are you a spy for the Atlanteans?" she asked, and then took a deep drink from her chalice.

"No, I'm here getting supplies. I'm on a journey searching for something so that I can go home. I just happened to see you in the market..."

"Do not lie to me! You aren't like the Lemurians at all. I know you are human, because I can see through your flimsy façade. I will be queen of Atlantis even if it means killing everyone who lives there. No one can stop my plan, not you, and not the entire Atlantean government!" she said, thrashing about the sheets.

"I—I don't know what you are talking about," Ben said, weary of her emotional instability. The sudden urge to flee washed over him, but he knew that escape wasn't an option. Still feeling some effects of the spell, he found that simple actions like raising his hands were still very difficult. Each foot felt like a weight holding him in place.

"Your business in Lemuria is suspect because only humans who come here in disguise are spies. You came here to kill me for selling Atlantean secrets to the Lemurians, didn't you? I will be the queen; it is my birthright! They will not take my crown in the name of their democracy!"

Ben's wits returned more and more as she slipped further into her own paranoia. As his mind came back to him, he darted out the door and ran down the hallway without caution. Her maniacal screams echoed through the halls as he passed the throne room. The labyrinth of corridors was hard to navigate, and he did his best not to get caught. After a few minutes of dodging the guards and sneaking around the halls, he managed to find a window and escaped into the garden. From there, he stayed low and made his way to the wall surrounding the palace as fast as he could, weaving in and out of the plant life, which he used for cover.

Looking over the wall, he saw that the guards were huddled together, rallying around the insane woman outside the palace entrance. Judging by their hand gestures, Ben figured they must have been discussing their course of action and where he could have gone as she barked orders at them. They commenced their search as he was hoisting himself over the wall to depart. With the palace at his back, he ran through the back alleys towards the market place, looking for Miles and Donovan. The glass shop came into view, and in one frantic motion, he searched around the crowd of people, who were all starting to stare at him. Startled by a hand that suddenly came down on his shoulder, Ben jumped. He turned and discovered Miles and Donovan standing behind him. Without taking a breath, he spilled out the entire story in one jumbled mess. Stunned and confused, the two of them stared at the winded boy.

Ben tried to calm himself by regulating his breathing, before attempting to explain again. "The woman I saw thinks we are spies, and now the government is after us. We have to get out of here as soon as possible."

"I agree," said Miles. "I kind of got into some trouble as well. It's not exactly safe for any of us to be here. Come on, I know a way to get us out of the city. Let's go..."

Miles' voice trailed off as he saw the guards approaching them. The would-be Atlantean queen's wagon was behind them and with nowhere to go they knew they had been caught. As the wagon door opened and the stairs dropped, she stepped out onto the ground in her white flowing gown and moved toward them. Without haste, she approached Ben first and placed her hand on his chin and leaned in as if to kiss him. The guards' blatant disgust was obvious as they looked away from the scene. Instead of a kiss though, she moved to his ear and said, "I'll make sure you get home safely." With this, she slapped him on the face and turned away. With a few unfamiliar words to her soldiers, she left, leaving Ben and his companions at the whim of the large brutish Lemurian guards.

### Chapter Sixteen

The gritty iron bars that held them captive were spaced just wide enough to tease them with thoughts of escape. Defeated, they sat on a thin wooden bench without speaking. Their keepers stood guard, making sure they didn't talk or interact with one another. Each time they tried, one of the jailers threatened to stab them with a long sharp stick.

Ben was afraid of what was coming next. They had been here for hours without food or water and his stomach was already beginning to feel it. Their things had been taken and laid against the wall right in front of them. Miles cussed that their only means of escape was just out of his reach. Out of the three of them, Donovan was the only emotionless one. He sat there without saying a word or expressing any concern or anger. After a while longer, there was a knock on the jail door and the two guards stepped out. Miles jumped up as Diostist came through the door with a look of worry on her face.

"You have to get us out of here," Miles said, with both hands gripping the bars.

"I can't, but I have good news. I've gotten you passage to Atlantis like you asked. Apparently, Salinia thinks you are Atlantean spies, so in an act she considers ironic, she is sending you to war against them. Your boat leaves in the morning for the island," she said, placing her hands around Miles'.

"Okay, I guess that is good news," Miles said, looking into her eyes.

"How is going to war considered good news?" Ben said, jumping up.

"It's good news because they couldn't find any other way to get us there," Donovan said, sitting there, stoic.

"What the fuck?" Ben said, as thoughts of death and failure filled his head. The stress of his situation was starting to build up again, tearing down his newfound resolve. Seeing Donovan sit there, cool and calm, added a sense of anger to the mix, but he didn't show it.

"I'm sorry, Ben, but there isn't any other way," Miles said.

"Yeah," he replied, too tired and angry to acknowledge defeat.

"Can you make sure we get our stuff back?" Miles asked her.

"Yes. I already spoke to my husband about that; it won't be a problem. Salinia is leaving tonight for Atlantis and the three of you won't be leaving until tomorrow morning. Get some sleep, and Miles..." She trailed off.

"Don't say it," Miles said, turning away. After watching him disregard her, she left without another word, and the guards came back in, returning to their places.

Sleep didn't come easily for Ben that night as he rested up against a cold stone wall. Discomfort and distress were his only companions as he tried to gain some sense of serenity. With sounds he didn't think possible, his stomach ached and turned with each thought of their coming journey. He had only seen war on TV, but he could only guess that the reality was far worse.

The next morning, his eyes opened, but he didn't wake, because he hadn't slept. The guard turned the key and opened the rusty gate for them to leave. On the way out, they retrieved their items, and without a word, the three of them were loaded into the back of a cart with ten other Lemurians. The ride through town was interesting because the streets were empty so early in the day. The shops and kiosks were closed, leaving the otherwise cluttered city devoid of life.

The constant bounce of the wooden wheels against the stone street brought nausea to the list of Ben's worries. Already exhausted to the point of sickness, he tried his best not to throw up as all of this mixed with a growing feeling of uneasy nervousness in his gut. Miles and Donovan sat there with quiet desperation marked upon their faces. The three of them had nothing to say, because they knew that no amount of talking could prepare them for what was next.

After hours of weaving through cramped cave tunnels, they squinted as the light of day finally exploded into view, causing their sensitive vision to go white. As their sight came back, they found themselves stopping in front of a large wooden ship that swayed with the crashing of the sea against its hull. The massive size of the sails threatened to block the warm sunlight that rained down on them. In order to see, Ben held up his hand, blocking the oppressive sun, whose blinding light disagreed with the darkness of the cave they had just escaped from, but there was no escaping their fate.

The weight of his sword became more apparent as his feet hit the sandy ground below the cart. Miles and Donovan followed him as the guards yelled and corralled them toward the boat. The line of Lemurians pushed forward as the soldiers urged them on with the threat of physical damage. Ben had no trouble getting on the boat, but some of the other men were more reluctant and needed persuasion in the form of a whip. The crack against their backs split their flesh, giving them just the right amount of motivation to keep moving.

As he walked up the wooden plank, Ben saw the extent of the Lemurians' armada. There, stretched out as far as the eye could see, was a sea of ships, divided into fleets, all preparing for their journey to war. The amazing sight brought only more fear as he tried to soak it all in. Miles collided with him, lost in the same spectacle. The entire line stopped, causing the men to push forward with little regard for those in front.

As he boarded, Ben noticed that the Lemurians were wearing tinted goggles that protected their eyes from the harsh sun. The ship hands led them to their quarters, which were nothing more than cramped cubbies with tiny portholes. The smell of rank sea food was strong because they were so close to the kitchen. Ben's stomach turned as he took a heavy whiff of the seafood muck that was on the menu for later. The three of them were bunking together in the small cramped space, much smaller than their cell. Three beds had been placed on top of each other, the highest so close to the ceiling that Miles' nose almost scraped against the splintered wood as he lay down.

"And this was the good news?" Ben asked.

"It's better than the alternative..." Miles said, trying not to express his displeasure at the sleeping conditions.

"Both of you, please just stop. There's no reason to get into this right now. Not with an entire army of flesh-eating monsters just outside the door. We just need to stay low and wait until the moment when we can get away," spat Donovan.

Ben released a loud exhale before relaxing against the wooden bed. They listened as the continuous sound of footsteps marched past their door and finally stopped after an hour or more. After that, there came the sounds of yelling on deck, and the lurching of the ship as it left the dock. From there they lost any sense of time as the motions of travel became hypnotic. Stress, fear, and sickness were the only feelings the three of them felt for the next twenty-four hours.

Ben woke in the middle of the night and decided to leave the cabin to get some air. Without waking the others, he left and wandered through the vast passageways until finding the stairs to the deck above. The sky was clear of clouds and brilliant with millions of stars. The sound of water rushing up against the sides was soothing as he stood on the bow looking out across the sea. Something told him that this would be the last time he'd feel any sense of comfort or solace for a while. Staying out of sight, he watched as the crew rushed around doing their job guiding the ship towards Atlantis.

Lost in the sway of the water, Ben jumped when a hand fell down upon his shoulder, pulling him out of the tired trance the ocean had lulled him into. An angry-looking Lemurian guard barked unknown orders at him. The confused boy didn't know how to comply, which caused further frustration. Finally the guard grabbed him by the arm and pulled him across the deck. Ben stumbled repeatedly as he tried to follow the forceful soldier down the stairs and into the belly of the ship. As they passed his room, Ben kicked at the door and yelled for his friends. This forced his captor to take Ben down to the ground and drag him kicking and screaming along the corridor. A few people opened their doors to see the commotion, prompting the soldier to command them back in. After a few moments, Miles and Donovan emerged from their room and saw their friend's situation.

"Help me!" Ben said. The Lemurian soldier turned and commanded Miles and Donovan as he had everyone else. With an unknown fury, Donovan launched himself upon the enemy with his bare hands and within a second, laid the man dead. The boy was free, Miles was amazed, and Donovan was lost, breathing deep as blood dripped from his hands. The lack of sound in the empty hallway became deafening as they all tried to figure out what had just happened.

"Come on, you two, we have to get rid of this body," Miles said. Eyes still wide with shock, Ben and Donovan helped him grab the corpse and pull it into their room.

"What happened?" Miles asked, sitting on the floor staring at the lifeless body that was propped up in front of him.

"I was up on the deck looking out at the ocean when he started screaming at me. I guess when I didn't respond he freaked," Ben replied.

"Freaked? You're damn right he freaked," Miles said, kneeling down by the body. The man lay there, lifeless, staring off into the infinite void that was the darkness of death. The blank soulless gaze left Ben feeling uneasy.

"What are we going to do with his body?" Ben asked.

"We have to dispose of it," Miles said, pulling out his dagger. "I can put a bit into the lantern, but the rest of the meat will have to be dropped out the window."

"Oh god," Ben replied as he watched the mage cut the hands and fingers off the corpse. Donovan also watched, staring at the grotesque scene with unblinking resolve.

"Get down here and help me," Miles said to Ben. The boy stood there for a moment unable to move. "This is your mess, now get down here." The stern words sparked the boy into motion, after first swallowing the growing feeling in his gut in order to complete the task. The two of them sat there for a while dismembering certain parts, trying their best to keep the blood from getting everywhere.

"Hand me the wool linens," Miles said to Donovan. Donovan sat there, not acknowledging the command, or the sound of Miles' voice. Ben jumped up and snatched the blankets up without a word and started soaking up the mess. Vomit hit the back of his throat a couple of times, causing him to gag, but, knowing that another mess would be counterproductive, he swallowed it back.

After an hour of cutting and dumping the messy pieces out the porthole, the body was finally gone. There was a slight stain on the floor the color of a deep merlot, which would be unnoticeable to anyone who didn't actually inspect the room. The grisly act had left Ben shaken, but he did his best to hold it together. It had to be done, and he was grateful for the fact that he was still alive. Ben turned to thank his hero when he noticed that Donovan was still staring at the spot on the ground where the man had been.

"Are you okay?" Ben asked.

"I killed a man," he replied in a calm voice.

"It's okay," Ben started.

"Does it look okay?" he shouted back. "I just took a life, and now my gut is telling me beyond all things that this was a heinous act. I don't even know who I am supposed to be, and I know that this was wrong. I did something awful, and I will never be the same because of it."

Ben opened his mouth to speak but caught a stray glimpse of Miles signaling him to shut up. They sat in silence for a while, watching the insects buzzing around the interior of the lantern until the bugs calmed down enough for the room to go black. Miles and Ben turned in, leaving their distraught friend sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk staring off into his own guilt. Ben could feel his fear and confusion and wanted to reach out to him, to console him, but he knew that he was out of his depth. How could he tell the man it was going to be okay when he didn't even know if that was a true statement?

### Chapter Seventeen

Their small wooden boat crashed against the waves as it cut through the water on its way toward the shores of Atlantis. Behind them drifted the large war vessel that had carried them to this point. Its triumphant sails flapped against the strong prevailing winds, causing a slight sway in its bow.

Ben held on to the side of the boat as the oarsmen fought against the large pulsating waves. The small vessel was packed full of reptilian soldiers that looked to be as young as Ben. With a growing sense of nostalgia, he thought about the time he spent as a kid on the open water with his father, but that did nothing to stop the approaching seasickness. He wondered if the knot in his stomach was caused by the dread of what was to come, or if it was in fact just a case of motion sickness. Donovan sat beside him, stoic, looking ahead as if he was ready for the coming chaos. Behind them sat Miles, who was digging through his packs.

"What are you looking for?" Ben asked.

Miles looked up and smiled at him as he pulled up his pipe and snapped his fingers to ignite it. Puffs of smoke rose up as the mage sat there and lounged, unaffected by the sickness that was tearing Ben apart.

"I don't see how you do it," Ben said.

"Do what?" Miles said, flashing a slight grin.

"Live with yourself. How do you go on without it affecting you?" Ben asked.

"You will learn to do what it takes to live, and maybe even prevail," Miles replied with the same grin.

Ben looked away and faced the grim reality of their predicament. There, stretched out across the sea, were thousands of boats, just like the one they were in, all rowing for the approaching shore. The ground troops were all readying themselves with the weapons and tools of war. Most were already in their armor, but a few were still suiting up.

Ben jumped when he heard a loud booming sound off in the distance. In the sky, coming towards the Lemurians, was a large ball of burning liquid. It hit the water with a splash and spread out to the surrounding boats it hadn't hit on the way down. Men doused with flame screamed and jumped into the water, causing a massive rush of steam to rise. The sound came again, and more boats went up in flames a few moments later. Within seconds, the area was dense with a foul-smelling cloud.

"We have to get out of here!" Ben yelled. Miles had already jumped into action. He took his dagger and stabbed the stubborn pilot in the gut and then dumped him overboard. Using the rudder to steer the small craft off its original course, Miles did what he could to save them. The rest of the oarsmen turned to see what was causing this sudden change in trajectory, but did nothing to stop his mutiny. Afraid for their own lives, the oarsmen continued rowing, taking them away from the burning carnage behind them as more balls of fire rained down.

Donovan sat, unmoved by the intense scene of madness on the water around them. Instead of reacting, he stared out into nothingness, as if lost in a dream.

The screams of pain turned into a deafening howl that rang in their ears. All around them, the Lemurians were trying their best to stay the course and make it to the shoreline. At one point a ball of fiery death came close to connecting with their position, but the oarsmen did their job and pulled them to safety. In the temporary lull that followed, Ben threw up over the side. He had just witnessed the slaughter of hundreds of men, and more were coming in behind them. Before long that number would triple, carrying the death toll into the thousands.

A large number of the small rowboats had taken their lead and decided to try a new course of action. All around them were soldiers, veering toward a new destination where death wasn't so imminent. The tide of wooden boats headed for a beach that was just within view of their position.

"Any idea where we are headed?" Ben asked Miles.

"That way," he said, pointing forward.

Ben sat with his chest against the side, looking down into the blue depths below. Beneath them moved a large unrecognizable shadow. Ben turned to look at Miles with great concern. The mage had already seen the shadow, and in their native tongue, he yelled at the oarsmen with all the air his lungs could hold. With a puzzled look on his face, Ben sat there questioning the meaning of the words until the boat started to move faster. It was then that he realized Miles was just as worried as he was, and he got scared all over again. Within the space of a breath, their vessel was picked up and thrown into the air.

As the boat crashed down, most of the men found themselves floating in the water. The three companions were fortunate enough to still be sitting on the hard wood when it landed. Four of the paddlers were still in the boat with them, and instead of rowing to land, they lent their oars out to their fallen brothers, pulling them back in. At that moment, one of the men was pulled under the waves, replaced by a bloody cloud. The sheer terror in the men's faces was very apparent and Ben wondered if they knew what was beneath them.

The boat moved faster now despite the loss of most of the oarsmen. The determination of the few that were left was astonishing. Ben, Miles, and Donovan all helped row them closer to safety as people were pulled under all around them. It wasn't until they were within a stone's throw of the sandy beach that the mysterious creature beneath them bombarded their own vehicle. As Ben sank into the water, he opened his eyes in panic and saw the shadowy form of the beast. Its body was like a massive shark, but its face was that of a squid with short tentacles that it used to pull things into its mouth. There was blood all around as Ben fought to reach the surface. The last thing he saw, before cresting the water's top was a man riding on its back with a long trident-like spear in his hand. People were being sucked under all around as he swam with what little might he had left.

With screams ripping through his ears, Ben finally felt the murky sand beneath his feet. The beach was still a few feet away, but the grainy ground between his toes made him feel a little better. Miles and Donovan had already reached the shore, and Ben looked up just in time to see Miles pointing behind him and yelling. With a short glance over his shoulder, Ben saw that the creature was following him. The large, monstrous being exploded out of the water with a thunderous howl causing sea water to rain down on Ben as he tried to escape. The solid dry land of the beach was just a few more feet away as he scrambled to escape an appalling fate.

Miles and Donovan ran to the water line and pulled him out just as the man on the back of the beast starting hurling tridents in their direction. One landed in such a way that it pinned Ben's leg between the tines, causing no harm. Miles dropped the panicking boy, and began to summon up a spell as Donovan stood helpless and afraid. Another terrifying howl tore through their resolve, just as Miles let off a long arc of lightning into the beast's screeching mouth. The Atlantean soldier was thrown from its back, and the creature smoked as it sank down into the water. Its blood pooled at the surface, creating a massive red cloud in the clear blue of the ocean.

Ben sat there for a moment, gasping as his lungs decided if they were going to explode or not. With one good jerk, Donovan pulled the weapon from the sand, releasing Ben from its binding grasp. With his leg now free, Ben just fell back onto the sand and stared up into the sky. He could still hear the sounds of war in the distance, but none of that mattered as he closed his eyes and dulled it all out.

What seemed like seconds later, Ben opened his eyes to find Miles taking the lives of the only Lemurians that made it to shore. They must have been as exhausted as he was, because they didn't move or fight back as Miles put the dagger to their throats. There were fifteen different crimson stains on the sand, each one as helpless as the last. Was this right? Was this the only way to be safe and protected? Ben noticed that Donovan just watched, unflinching, without judgment. Was this what he was to become? There were too many questions and not enough time to sort them out. He had been told that there was only one way home—the four items. Right now, that was his only mission, and all of his effort and strength was going into it. There wasn't time for moral dilemmas or overbearing thoughts; he needed to get up and take that first step toward his destination.

Miles at last sheathed his dagger. "It's time to get up, Ben," he said, reaching down to lend him a hand. Without meaning to, Ben stood up without the help of his friend. It wasn't out of spite or anger, but rather the need to feel strong and independent. The journey had taught him a lot about the dangers of weakness.

"I've got it," he said. Miles took his hand back, showing no signs of offense.

"We've got to head inland. Once we get to a place where we no longer have to worry about the Lemurians, we will reverse our charms and resume our true visages. After that, we will head toward the temple. If we are careful, we should be able to reach it within a couple hours," Miles said, taking the authoritative stance. Ben and Donovan didn't mind, as neither one wanted the responsibility. As they picked up their belongings and got ready to depart, Ben noticed that the water hadn't damaged the book at all. The pages were dry, as though the tome had never been submerged. Having been convinced that his only map in this adventure had been ruined, Ben smiled and slung it over his shoulder, wearing the straps like a backpack once again.

The humid tropical climate drew unwanted bugs to their necks and ears, pestering them with each step. The heat was unbearable and for a moment, Ben wished he was back in the water again, but those thoughts were dispelled the second he remembered what lurked there. The tiny beasts flying around them were nothing compared to the large ones in the sea.

Growing all around was dense foliage that they had to wade through and cut just to move forward. They could hear the sounds of strange animals in the jungle as they hiked. Ben didn't know what to think as they passed a giant snake dangling from a limb, or when they saw a herd of elephants grazing on large plants. The sights were quite amazing, all the way to the ruins where they stopped for their first break. More tired than he realized, Ben plopped down next to a deteriorated statue. Donovan did the same, resting across from him.

"That's Poseidon," Miles said, nodding toward the statue. After digging around in his knapsack, he pulled out a canteen and took a deep drink from it. Ben did the same and then passed it on to Donovan. "He was once the god of this island, but something happened and his people turned their thoughts away from him. From the stories I've read, it's because he turned his back on them first by not offering them the bounty they felt they deserved."

"Maybe he was just trying to teach them a lesson," Donovan said, handing the canteen back to its owner.

"That's one theory. Either way, it doesn't matter because they found their comfort in another's bosom," Miles said before taking another drink

Ben spoke up. "I always read that this place sank beneath the sea because Poseidon was tired of their debauchery."

"That obviously didn't happen; otherwise, we couldn't be here right now," Miles retorted. The heat was getting to them all, causing their temperatures, both literal and figurative, to rise. Ben decided to disregard his apparent annoyance by changing the subject.

"Why did you come here?" Ben asked.

"I already told you," Miles responded.

"No, you told us that you wanted our company. So, tell me, what's your stake in this?" Ben asked.

It was obvious that Miles felt cornered by this question. The secure shell of secrecy and ambiguity was already starting to come apart the more he trusted his new friends. As if he realized that it was time to pull the veil from their eyes, he answered.

"I'm working to become a member the Esoteric Order of Leng. One of the final steps before initiation is creating a potion from specific ingredients. Each initiate is sent on a sojourn to the outside world, where we travel and search for these ingredients. Along the way, we are supposed to study the tenets of the order and find ways to relate each to our lives. This is supposed to be a transformative journey that brings us back to our home a different person; a member of the order, ready to learn and grow."

"That sounds rehearsed," Donovan said.

"Trust me, it is," Miles replied.

"How long have you been on this sojourn?" Ben questioned.

"Too long to be proud," Miles said.

"What happened?" Ben asked, but saw that Miles had no interest in talking about it any longer. The three of them sat there in silence for a while, none willing the rehash the topic at hand. After a few hours, Miles got up and replaced the items in the sack he wore on his back. The other two stood up, following his example, and they were on their way again. The coarse leaves brushed up against their faces as they pushed on forward through the dense vegetation. All the while, they hiked on, trying their best to keep a forward momentum. The island itself was massive, much larger than any of them had thought based on that first glimpse in the rowboat. Ben noticed that they kept moving toward the mountain peak that loomed over the canopy, looking down on them like the ominous visage of a mighty emperor.

Ben finally came to a point where walking was no longer an option. Right as he opened his mouth to voice his opinion, Miles signaled for them to be quiet. The mage got down on his knees, hiding amongst the brush, and motioned for them to look forward. There, emerging from the mouth of a craggy cave, was a group of soldiers, escorting a regal-looking man in a long cape. This had to be the king, based on the crown that he wore, but Ben wasn't interested in him. Right beside the king was a young, beautiful girl about his age. Her hair was short, cut just above the shoulders, and it was dark blonde. The smoothness of her face appealed to him, drawing in his gaze, compelling him to drink up every feature until they disappeared into the wilderness.

"I think we should use that cave," Miles said, keeping his voice down.

"Are you crazy? Did you see all those men come out of there?" Ben replied.

"I'm with Ben on this one. It just seems too risky, especially considering the way we look right now," Donovan said, pointing out the fact that the Lemurian illusion was still going strong. Miles took one good look at them and then rummaged through his sack. After a few seconds, he produced a few small bottles of liquid and an empty glass vial.

"I stole this," he said with a slight grin. The tone of his voice was like a fishing line, looking to hook the approval of his companions.

"Is that what you meant when you said you were in trouble too?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, bastard caught me and I had to bolt out of there before he could take my hand, or worse," Miles said.

"Why would you steal? Isn't there something inherently wrong with that?" Donovan asked, meriting an eye roll from Miles.

"Look, it isn't as black and white as that. Granted, I didn't need to steal, but not all crimes are wrong. Sometimes eating and taking care of your own is more important than following the rules of right and wrong." As he said this, Ben couldn't help but realize that he agreed. Following the rules had never been his strong suit. He'd spent a good portion of his short life getting into trouble with his parents and, on occasion, at school. He had never been one to listen to instruction or take anything too seriously.

"I don't think your idea of right and wrong should be so flexible," Donovan retorted. Ben could tell that the death of the Lemurian soldier was still weighing him down, but he wasn't sure how to console him. For all intents and purposes, it was Ben's fault that he was put in that situation to start with. The boy found himself becoming distant with the one person he had grown to trust. With Miles there acting as a plausible role model, it was hard to hold the responsibility of another in his hands. He didn't want the guilt anymore, but he couldn't turn his back on a friend, no matter how new.

Miles finished mixing the potions together and handed each of them a vial. They each drank the contents without any need for an explanation; Miles had made it clear with his actions that the potion was for undoing the illusion. All three of them were hit in the gut by a strange feeling, causing the sensation of nausea and vertigo. Within just a few seconds, the effects had worn off, and they all stood there as though it hadn't happened in the first place.

"Okay, we can go..." Miles started to say, but suddenly pulled the other two down. Pointing into the distance, he made Ben and Donovan aware of the recent addition to the area. A platoon of Lemurian soldiers hiked toward the very spot they were standing. Ben felt his heartbeat take off as his skin tightened and became hot. The flesh of his forehead and palms were beginning to perspire as he tried to stay calm. Panic wasn't an option, but he wasn't sure he could contain himself.

Miles reached for his dagger, signaling Ben to do the same. Donovan, lost in the moment, wasn't paying attention as the unspoken command was given. They lay there, waiting for the right moment to strike, when something unexpected happened. Another Lemurian in the group came running up, barking orders. All of them but two turned around and started off in the direction they had come.

The last two Lemurians kept a steady pace toward the hidden group. Right as they were about to step on Ben, Miles gave the signal by jumping up and forcing his dagger into the belly of one of the men. The sheer force of the attack jutted his weapon and hand deep into the wound, causing a guttural expulsion of sound from the dying Lemurian. Ben did the same to the other man, but knocked him down as he attacked and missed his mark. Ben stood over him, his sword ready for the kill. Looking his opponent in the eyes, he stared into the very depths of fear and anguish. Ben was frozen as Miles ordered him to take the Lemurians life. The sound of Miles's voice was far off, as Ben was pulled into that moment and lost in thought. When the distant words finally hit him, he reared back, ready to plunge, when Donovan grabbed his arm.

"Don't!" he screamed. "It isn't right; this isn't the way it has to be."

Ben snapped out of the haze he was in, shaking it off. There, on the ground, was a reptilian man who was wracked with fear, preparing for the inevitable death that was coming.

"Trust me, Ben; it has to be this way. They wouldn't hesitate to kill you, so why should you?" Miles asked.

"You don't have to trust him, trust in yourself. You know this isn't right. I'm sure you can feel it," Donovan said.

"I trust you both," Ben said, not sure what else to say.

"Why him? What has he taught you besides killing?" Donovan asked.

"Why me? Why do you trust him, 'Donovan'?! Ben is the one who pulled you back from death and destroyed your precious Eden. You think you can trust anyone, Adam?" Miles said.

The power of his words took a few moments to really sink in. Ben and Donovan stared at one another, lost in what Miles had said, trying to absorb it, process it, before allowing the emotions to come. Ben was the first to succumb. His face sunk and his sadness at his actions overtook him.

"Donovan, I'm sorry..."

"What...do you mean?" Donovan asked as the truth passed behind his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, but I didn't know how to tell you," Ben said, taking a step closer.

"How could you? You are the cause of all my pain. I trusted you, and only you and all this time it was you who did this to me," he said. After taking a few steps, Donovan fell to his knees under the weight of this news. All strength had left him, as he tried to choke back disgust and hatred. "I was home...I could feel it."

"I'm so sorry..." Ben said, leaving the Lemurian in an attempt to comfort his friend. The sadness of this revelation hit him as well, and he wanted nothing more than to correct his own mistake.

"Get away from me!" Donovan said with nothing but animosity in his voice. "Don't you dare touch me! You have done nothing but soil me with your disgusting touch."

Ben stepped away and then turned to Miles, whose face was a portrait of smug indignation.

"How could you?" Ben asked.

"Someone had to tell him sooner or later. I couldn't stand to keep such a secret any longer," Miles said.

Donovan, catching his words, flashed a glance at the mage. Ben curled up his fist, causing his knuckles to turn white. Without a second thought he struck Miles in the face and was rearing back to strike again when Donovan tackled him.

"Get off him. It's not his fault, it's yours!" Donovan said with nothing but contempt burning in his eyes.

Ben, fighting for release, looked up into Donovan's face and realized that any feelings of friendship they may have had were now gone. Realizing the futility of his actions, he went limp against the ground, giving up.

After a few seconds of deep thought, Donovan released his grip on Ben and got up. He pointed toward the Lemurian, who was now getting away, and said, "I think we should get going."

### Chapter Eighteen

The man-made shaft had once been a mining route. There were tracks on the ground from moving materials and sconces every couple of feet that held burned out torches. The small group found themselves traveling by the light of Miles' green-tinted lantern again. Taking point, as he usually did, Miles trekked through the drab darkness, keeping his distance from the other two. The glow of the light illuminated abandoned tools on the ground, which seemed to have been left in a hurry. They passed an empty mine cart that had an unusual residue covering the inside.

"What do you think they were mining?" Ben asked, looking around. The quizzical look on his face had replaced the angry one he was wearing before, but his emotions were still there. The three of them hadn't said a word since the fight, so the sudden intrusion on the silence was unexpected.

"I don't know," Miles replied, not even bothering to inspect.

The dismissive attitude wasn't surprising, but Ben's curiosity deemed the question necessary. They walked for a while longer, until the cave began to get more cramped. After a few feet, they were forced to get down on their hands and knees and crawl under the low ceiling. The dust of the mining operation was collecting on their clothing in large smudges.

"Anyone else getting tired of cramped dark spaces?" Ben asked.

"I think we missed the turn," Miles said.

"There weren't any places to turn," Ben came back.

"It must have been hidden, because the king wasn't covered in this soot," Miles said.

"Should we turn back?" Ben asked.

"No, we will keep moving forward. I can feel a breeze so this has to lead us somewhere," Miles replied, pushing forward through the blackness of the mine. After a few hundred feet, the tracks ended and the tunnel opened up into a massive chamber with a tall ceiling and a floor that was so far down, it couldn't be seen. Standing on the ledge, looking down into the abyss, Ben felt the need to grab onto something, as a steady rhythmic pattern of air flowed against his face and then away from it. The atrocious smell was enough to make them all gag. Ben turned, looking for an exit, and found a small opening on the other end of the ledge.

"This way!" he said, directing them all away from the stench. The crack in the side of the wall was just wide enough for them to squeeze through. After a few feet, the tiny opening of sharp craggy edges began to lead upward, forcing them to climb. There, a few hundred feet above, was the warm light of the sun pouring down on them. They pushed themselves to climb the last few feet, eager to get away from the cramped space that could have made anyone feel claustrophobic.

Ben, the first to escape, was blinded by his sudden immersion in the sunlight. He blinked until shapes and forms started to come back to him, but even then he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Staring down the hill, he directed their attention toward the amazing sight so that they could all take in its glory. Before them, like a reward for their journey, was an amazing pyramid of solid crystal. The semi-translucent structure stood on the crest of a hill, making it taller than a twenty-story building. The three of them stood there in awe, as the sunlight reflected off its smooth surface in a prismatic effect. A vast network of streets passed over large canals, all leading to the square in front of them. The pyramid was at the base of the massive mountain, which dwarfed its reflective peak.

"Guys..." said Donovan, trying to get their attention. After he repeated himself, Ben finally turned around and saw what he was getting upset about. Behind them was the Lemurian army, clashing with the Atlanteans in a fierce ground war that brought them closer to the pyramid by the minute. Fires caught and buildings crumbled as men fought and killed to the pounding rhythm of war drums. The tide of warriors rose and fell, as one side and then the other tried to advance. The beautiful white marble streets were spattered with blood, which ran into the gutters like muddy rainwater during a storm.

"We should get down to the pyramid before the things get worse," Miles said.

They took off down the hill toward the small valley that held their destination. The earth had been carved into dirt steps, allowing them to keep a quick pace without much worry of injury. At the bottom of the hill was a walled off garden full of statues and other sculptures, surrounded by beautiful vegetation. Hiding amongst the large stone figures, they watched as civilians did what they could to evacuate the city before the battle came to their doorstep.

"We need to stay low and use the chaos to get ourselves into the temple. From there, Ben will find his... item and I will find mine and then we can all split ways," Miles said, receiving a nod of agreement from Donovan.

"Okay, well, let's get this over with then," Ben said.

Rushing over to the wall that separated them from the city street, they clung close, using it for cover as they moved to the opening. Miles stopped them short and signaled for them all to remain quiet. Panic grabbed his face, alerting the others to his concern. There, on the other side, was the unthinkable.

"It's Azothothus, and that witch from Lemuria, the one who sent us here. That cup she's carrying, that's the one I was telling you about!" Miles said.

Ben's heart sank at this information, knowing that he had come all this way for nothing. Donovan shrank against the wall, keeping his mouth shut. On the other side of the stone wall, standing in the plaza with a giant statue of the god Poseidon, was pure evil itself. Azothothus was a man who could inspire fear in people that had never met him, and here they were, hidden just a few feet away. He was draped in a ceremonial robe that covered his entire body. Symbols had been weaved into the edges of the fabric. It was a beautiful garment of red and gold, except where the man's skin touched it. These areas were charred black and looked coarse. His hand dripped a black, tarlike substance that sizzled when it hit the ground, leaving a permanent mark upon its surface.

"The assault is going as planned. The Atlanteans will fall, and Tiamat will help us eradicate those Lemurians at the same time," the dark wizard said.

"And then Atlantis will be mine?" Salinia asked, holding the chalice.

"Yes. Do you have everything you need for the ritual?" he asked, with impatience on his tongue.

"Yes, it took some preparation, but I've got it all. Now all we have to do is storm the temple and find the chamber," Salinia said. Fear quaked in her voice as she fought to stay strong in front of the oppressive form of her master.

"Then I will leave you too it," he said, turning to walk away.

"Wait..." she said, but her words were ignored.

The three companions saw a flash of light and Azothothus was gone. They ducked down behind the wall again, seeking its cover. Ben could feel his heart beating in the tips of his fingers. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins, causing the lightheaded sensation that came with the rush.

"You heard the man, let's go," Salinia said with obvious contempt. A group of Lemurian soldiers followed her as they stormed into the pyramid temple and met little resistance. The few men who offered up a challenge were dispersed within seconds, leaving blood running down the stairs to pool at the bottom. Within a few minutes they had disappeared through the large, heavy double doors.

"We are going to have to follow them in. You need her cup, and I need the herb that grows in their temple," Miles said.

"What do you think, Donovan?" Ben asked, trying to pull him into the conversation.

"Don't call me that. As a matter of a fact, don't talk to me at all," he retorted.

Frozen by the unexpected coldness, Ben couldn't find a response.

"It's clear that if we are going to go, it should be now," Miles said, standing up, readying himself to run. As usual, the other two followed his example and got up as well. Miles took off toward the large temple, hitting the stairs with all the speed he could find. Before they knew it, they had passed the doors of solid rock and found themselves in the antechamber. Staring down on them was another statue of Poseidon surrounded by three horses, all of which were connected by a flowing body of water. His triton was aimed at them like it was ready to strike. The walls were painted with different scenes that depicted the creation and rise of Atlantis.

Pushing on, they entered into a massive chamber that was exposed to the sun by the crystal ceiling. It focused the light in a way that made it impossible to look up for longer than a few seconds. The sweltering heat that hung in the air made it hard for them to breathe. It was almost unbearable to be in the room for more than a few minutes.

"Oh my God," Ben said, forced to cover his eyes.

"It's fine, we just need to keep moving forward," Miles said, placing his hand on Ben's shoulder, directing him forward.

The entire room was bathed in the intensified midday radiance , causing the objects to take on a distorted appearance. They shielded their eyes as they groped their way to the back of the room, where a staircase led down into the darkness below the temple.

"Diostist told me about this room," Miles said. "She told me that in the middle of the day, when the sun is at its highest point, this chamber isn't enterable. It can kill anything within seconds." He sought refuge from the light in the stairwell as he spoke. They stood there trying to recoup for a moment as the cool air that was coming up from the chamber below comforted their irritated skin. Ben could feel a strong sunburn coming on already.

"Let's keep moving," Ben said, taking the lead for once. The path went down for hundreds of feet. The walls changed from the smooth carved stone of the temple to the rough, craggy surface of a cave. Moisture clung to everything, beading up and dripping onto the floor beneath their feet. The only light came from the torches that threatened to extinguish if hit with too much water. After a while, a blue wavering tint from farther below became noticeable in the darkness. It offered more illumination than the small torch fires burning in their sconces. As they descended, they came to a clear crystal window that looked out into the ocean depths. They could see the island's underbelly above the schools of swimming fish that darted in and out of the salt-water ecosystem of coral reef and rocks.

"Wow," Ben said, stalling on the stairs to watch as different forms of marine life skated by, drifting through the water. "It's like the aquariums back home."

"What's an aquarium?" Miles asked with his face so close that it was almost pressed up against the crystal.

"It's a place where they kept fish and other ocean life for people to come and see," Ben said.

"Weird," Miles replied. They stood there for a few more moments, taking in the vast beauty of the serene scene, before finally taking the final steps toward what lay in the dark depths below.

### Chapter Nineteen

As their feet found the final step, a horrific scene came into view. On the ground were the bodies of the guards, laid out, their insides exposed. Blood hardened around their corpses, oozing from the mangled wounds in their tattered flesh. It looked as if an animal had mauled them before leaving them to die.

Ben choked back his disgust and turned away from the scene. Miles and Donovan just stood there looking at it.

"What have you gotten us into?" Donovan asked Ben. The boy didn't respond though. Instead he examined the chamber they had stepped into.

The small room had brick walls and a domed ceiling. It was the entry chamber to a larger section. The dead soldiers had been stationed at the bottom of the stairs to guard the doors that now stood half open. The same flickering blue tint from before escaped the doors and spilled into the chamber; flooding the ground at their feet.

"This is it," Miles said, pushing the doors open further. The grand chamber they stepped into was massive, with a half of its surface the same crystal substance that held the water back. The ocean outside stretched on for as far as they could see, creating a dark abyss in all directions. The waters here were devoid of life, which made them seem oppressive and infinite.

The room itself was decorated with elaborate statues and tapestries that one would see in a church. It was draped in red and black with a thick gold trim that set each piece off from the other. It reminded Ben of the cloak Azothothus was wearing outside. The three of them ducked down behind a pew and watched as Salinia and her goons attacked the priests. They killed all but one, leaving the hierophant for interrogation. She paced back and forth before him, occasionally taking a drink from her large chalice.

He didn't beg or cry as they knocked off his cap and roughed him up. He didn't whimper or plead as they threatened him with violence and pain. The tough old man refused to give in, showing his true strength, until finally they broke him by threatening to take him to their leader, Azothothus.

"Please, not that," he cried.

"Then tell us, how do we summon Tiamat?" Salinia asked, splashing him in the face with the rest of her drink. He spit and coughed as it covered his face.

"You can't do this. Your father is a great man; you can't destroy everything he's worked for. The people need us, Salinia, they need you," he pled.

"We both know that's not true. They want my sister to bring them their precious democracy and I refuse to give up my birthright for anyone!" she said. Her face went from calm and sadistic to furious without much transition. Her face turned pink under the white make-up she wore as she spoke.

"It's what's best for the people," he said.

"I'm what's best for the people!" she replied. "Now, how do I summon the sleeper?" She pressed a wavy ceremonial dagger against his neck. In her hand, she held on to the same chalice she always carried. Her knuckles were white from the tight grip of her fingers.

Miles saw something that captured his attention and he signaled for Ben and Donovan to follow. Ducking down, they crossed the aisle to the next set of pews. On the ground were the littered bodies of the priests, their white robes now spattered with red. On each side of the room was a row of marble pillars that held the ceiling in place. Behind the pillars was a small raised brick garden against the wall. Keeping to the shadows, they made their way over and Miles found what he was looking for. Between two flowers, one white and one purple, was a black fern that had a darkened halo on the ground around it. With a gleeful smile on his face, Miles saw his quest come to fruition. Through the war, and all the adversity they had faced, here he was, staring at the only thing that had kept him from his goals. With a careful hand, he cut the plant and placed it into a pouch. The drawstring cringed as he pulled it tight and returned it to its original position on his waist.

"We can go now," he said, keeping his voice low.

"Wait, what about the chalice?" Ben whispered, turning his head in time to see Salinia coercing information out of the head priest.

"The other...you have to summon the other in order to perform the ritual. Only an evil force can awaken the sleeper," the hierophant sputtered.

"Then get to it," she spat, pulling him closer to her face and then dropping him to the ground.

"I can't, it requires the essence of an innocent. I have too much blood on my hands." He sat on his knees looking up at her. She lit up with rage and kicked him in the face. The painful blow knocked him to the floor as he covered his nose with his hands. Red streamed from his face as he applied pressure to the wound. At the same moment, a crashing sound from the entryway drew everyone's attention. Ben watched as his would-be friends disappeared through the door, leaving him behind.

"Get them! But don't hurt them. One of those bastards could be useful to us." As Salinia spoke, her goons, one an animalistic barbarian donning fur hides for clothing, the other a swordsman with daggers running up his arms, took off after Miles and Donovan. Ben stood there with the sinking feeling of betrayal in his gut, trying to rationalize their actions by thinking that he must have missed their lead, but deep down, he knew that they had left him. Miles got what he came for, and Donovan was done with him.

The chamber grew silent as he was left there with only the woman and the priest she was tormenting. A thousand thoughts reeled through his mind as he tried to figure out what to do next. The medallion in his pocket pressed against his thigh. He reached down and pulled it out and held it for a moment as Salinia stood over the crying man, torturing him with the blade. The promise Ben had made to Franklin came back to him, and he knew what he had to do, even if it meant losing his own life. She had something he needed, and he couldn't stand by and watch her kill this man. Pulling his weapon from its sheath, he took a deep breath, focusing on the sentimental trinket in his hand, and jumped out from his hiding place. Surprised, Salinia looked up at him with knowing eyes.

"You? I ordered your death!" she said. "The girl, the one I had killed. She obviously had you released, despite my wishes."

Ben thought back to the moment when Diostist told them they were being sent to war because of Salinia's sense of irony and realized she had been lying.

"Your presence here is convenient, though, wouldn't you say, priest?" she asked looking down at the weeping man. "You look innocent enough." These last words were directed toward Ben as she waved her hand with a crooked smile. Ben felt the magic come over his body, holding him in place like an invisible vice, forcing him to stand still as she approached.

"Tell me how to perform the ritual," she said, but only received whimpers from the broken man.

"Tell me!" she screamed, never breaking eye contact with Ben.

"Take him to the altar," the priest replied, giving in. Without moving, she motioned for Ben to drop his weapon and move to the altar; he complied, his own actions out of his power.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Take his hand and cut the palm, allowing for the blood to pour onto it," the hierophant said. As she followed the priest's directions, her men returned empty-handed. They tried to speak but she shushed them, concentrating on the task at hand.

"A tooth is needed, and an eyeball. Place them both on the altar, in the blood." Her face lit up with excitement at the prospect. "Not his!" the priest exclaimed. "The physical essence must come from a violent man, capable of committing great evil. There is a jar under the table, over there," he said, pointing to a place where ritual items were stored. Salinia motioned for one of her men to bring her the jar. As she did, Ben stared down at the pool of blood that poured from his wound. The place on his palm throbbed, but there was nothing he could do.

The barbarian brought over the jar, which contained a surplus of items needed to complete the ritual. With all the pieces on the slab, the hierophant walked over and turned to Salinia.

"Please, I beg you, our home won't be able to withstand her force," he said, trying to get up with a fearful tear in his eye.

"You will do as I say, or I promise you, you will have an eternity of pain and torment to worry about what you've done," she replied, and then pushed him back to his knees.

With a quiet prayer, he began to recite the archaic words. The blood began to thicken and take shape as it grew in size and started pulling the items into the growing pool. It became so big that it spilled over onto the ground, and Ben began to hear a sound that could only be described as insects in the night, whispering and chattering amongst themselves, just outside of his range of hearing and understanding.

They all watched as something began to form and take shape in the mess. Sinew started to weave its way up black bone, gripping and pulling until it formed limbs. Picking itself up on its new legs, the thing's body formed from shadowy tendrils that crept up, twisting and pulling until they became muscles. The skin was a runny black liquid that shifted and moved in a continuous motion, covering every inch until it finally enveloped the head. The creature reveled in its birth by releasing a demonic howl. Once it was done, the thing turned around, revealing its featureless face. As it opened its mouth, its tar-like skin pulled apart in sticky strands.

The priest looked at the unholy creature and started crying. "I can't," he said.

"Yes, you can!" she hissed in his ear. The words hit like a spell, taking his resolve. Without a second of hesitation, the hierophant led the newborn creature to an etched circle on the ground. With a few words spoken under his breath, the black liquid creature lost its shape and disappeared into a hole in the ground. After a moment of silence, there was a loud click, and then a rumble that shook the entire chamber. Outside, the water began to bubble as giant chains started moving, pulling something up. Salinia pulled Ben to the large window and they watched as a massive obelisk covered in arcane symbols rose from a gigantic hole in the ocean floor.

"It's happening," Salinia said, watching as something large stirred, down in the dark depths. The sheer horror Ben felt as he watched a monstrous webbed hand covered in scales grab the top of the hole was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. The very fabric of his sanity began to rip as the crest of a head appeared. On the verge of a breakdown, Ben was pulled away like a marionette as his puppeteer left the window.

"We have to start the ritual!" Salinia said. Salinia and her men gathered their things and placed them in a circle. They used salt to draw a circle on the ground and lit black candles inside of it. Salinia stepped inside with her chalice in hand. They took a strange dark liquid and poured it into the cup. In that same moment, she came face to face with the monster.

"Tiamat," she said in awe. Realizing the urgency of her task, Salinia started chanting the words that would bind the being to their will. Ben once again heard the chorus of insect like voices echoing from every dark nook and corner in the room. Like a strange dancer, she waved her hands as the salt around her feet burst into a blue flame, encircling her with fire. Ben watched as the woman shot forth a magical projectile from her chest that connected with Tiamat like a tether. The creature responded by taking its fist and slamming it into the transparent barrier that separated them from the sea. As it connected, a large crack raced out from the impact point in all directions. It continued to wave its arms about, hitting everything it could. Massive chunks of rock started to fall and the entire island above wavered with each strike.

Right then, the projectile began its return. As it retracted, it pulled something along with it. Ben could see a translucent figure that issued forth from the angry beast before them. As it came through the glass, Ben realized what was happening. They were pulling Tiamat's soul from its body and into the girl. He could hear the beast's loud screams through the glass and water as it howled in pain. Its violent flailing got worse as it did what it could to bring the island down on top of them.

As Salinia fought to reel in the essence, Ben watched as the swordsman stabbed his sword through her chest, ending her life. As her lifeless husk hit the ground, Ben was freed from his magical bondage, but as her soul left her body, Tiamat's was sucked in, filling the void that was left. With a deep cough, the girl sputtered back to life, opening her eyes in time to see the crack get larger. As the grotesque creature fell away from the window, Salinia started speaking in an alien language while pointing at the window that was now leaking.

Ben turned to run and came face to face with the hierophant. The sad man had committed suicide by jabbing a dull piece of candelabra into his throat. Without a moment to spare, the boy took off toward the stairs while the two goons picked up Salinia's body and summoned a portal. The air crackled and sparked as electricity tore a hole into space, creating a swirling doorway for their escape. As they stepped through, the barrier shattered and a colossal wall of water came pouring in. Ben ran as fast as he could for the door, grabbing the chalice and his sword from the ground. Taking his prize, he pushed on with every ounce of strength he had, but he wasn't fast enough. The water picked him up with no effort and slammed his body against the wall. As he connected with the hard stone, he took a deep breath full of salt water and everything went black.

Epilogue

The warm ocean water pushed and pulled Ben's listless body against the coarse yellow sand. Its frothy liquid threatened to pull him back out to sea with each recession. Unconscious, Ben was unaware of the horrific scene around him. The very water where he rested was stained red with the blood of a thousand soldiers. Lying there, mimicking the dead, Ben was ignored by the panicking masses that ran along the seashore. It was pandemonium as the Atlanteans all tried to scramble away from the very thing that finally stirred him from his sleep—a tremor.

Please look for the rest of my Terra Incognita series starting with book two: The Other, as well as my series of short stories that tie directly into the storyline. You can like my Terra Incognita Facebook page to receive updates on new releases and general news. If you enjoyed this book, please leave a positive review, and tell your friends! Thanks for reading!

Check out Dark Summer by my good friend Lizzy Ford.

