Circles of Seven (12 page)
“Then why are you here?” Billy asked. “Are you a lost soul?”
“Me? A lost soul? Hardly!” Joseph spread his feet apart and straightened his body. “I am the guardian of the Holy Grail.”
Billy caught a hint of mirth in Joseph’s eyes. Was he playing a game, or was he dead serious? “The Holy Grail?” Billy repeated. “Like in the King Arthur legend?”
The corners of Joseph’s lips turned up. “If you are asking if I guard the grail King Arthur long sought for, yes. But your modern tales have reduced the true grail to a common cup.” He held out his hand as if he were holding a drinking glass. “A common cup! Can you believe it? There is a real cup, of course, but it is merely a symbol of the greater grail.” His voice grew strong, and he slapped his hand over his heart. “The grail in which life is generated, the new wine creating flesh and sinews on dry bones.” His eyes suddenly grew dark. “I can say no more. My sacred duty is to keep the grail’s location secret until King Arthur’s heir returns to find it.”
Billy wrapped his fingers lightly around Excalibur’s hilt. “Well, supposedly, that’s who I am.”
“Yes, yes. So I’ve heard. Time will tell. I will follow your progress, but your journey will be far more dangerous than you can possibly imagine. If you survive through the seventh circle, you will indeed prove your mettle.”
Billy pulled the prophecy card from his pocket and scanned the verse. “Well, can you at least get me started? I have this old poem that’s supposed to help me along. It says, ‘In circle one there lies a belt, the camera’s eye to watch your tale, a tale as old as man’s first tears when Adam donned the devil’s veil.’”
“Ah, yes. I recognize the poetry of my old friend, Merlin. He comes through here from time to time and sings a few of his verses.”
Billy returned the card to his pocket. “So do you know anything about this belt?”
“Indeed I do.” Joseph walked past Billy and Bonnie, gesturing for them to follow. “Come this way, and mind the puddles.”
They high-stepped along the narrow path, veering around the growing puddles and vaulting over the streaming rivulets that crossed their way. Huge raindrops fell from the saturated tree canopy and slapped loudly on their umbrellas. Rather than shouting over the steady pounding, they followed the strange man in silence.
After about a half-mile hike, they entered a darker part of the forest filled with tall trees sporting wide trunks and deeply wrinkled bark. A mist hung in the air, floating in thin white layers, and the rain fell through without stirring the vapor.
Joseph held up his hand to halt the company. “Take care,” he said. “This part of the wood is where pretenders are exposed and find their doom.”
Bonnie stopped next to a long-stemmed fern and took a dripping leaflet between her finger and thumb. “Pretenders?”
Joseph faced them. “You have nothing to fear, William.” He then added with a thin smile, “If you really are the coming king.” He pointed into the underbrush. “There is one of the imposters.”
Billy leaned over, trying to see through the mist and rain. He took a couple of steps into the ferns and halted. A lone skeleton wrapped in tattered clothing rested in the foliage. A torn shirt lay across his chest with gaping holes exposing his ivory rib cage. Loose breeches covered his bones from his hips downward, and an ornate belt buckle kept his oversized pants in place. His graying skull displayed a gaping mouth, as though his last breath ended in a horrified scream.
Billy retreated a step and looked back through the curtain of water cascading from his umbrella. Bonnie held one hand over her mouth, her brow furrowed, but Joseph just tapped his foot in a puddle, a hand resting on his hip.
“Is that the belt?” Billy asked, pointing at the skeleton.
Joseph nodded. “It is.”
“Am I supposed to get it now?”
“You are.”
Billy drew in a deep breath and, lifting his feet high, took several long strides into the thick undergrowth until he straddled the skeleton. Looking around, he noticed dozens of bones, some still attached to other skeletons and some scattered about as though dogs had feasted on them and cast the remains aside.
With one hand still holding the umbrella, Billy grasped the buckle and pulled upward. The bones gave way, breaking and crumbling, and the belt and harness, which wrapped over the skeleton’s shoulder, came away freely. Billy jumped back through the ferns, holding the belt in front of him. The strap seemed normal enough, a rough sort of leather that had somehow defied years of rain and rot. The metal buckle, on the other hand, held a strange jewel, a shiny red orb with a dark circle in its center making it resemble a crystalline eye.
With the rain letting up, Joseph collapsed his umbrella and set it down. He took the belt, unfastened the buckle, and wrapped it around Billy’s waist, throwing the harness over his shoulder. With expert hands, he moved Excalibur’s scabbard from Billy’s old belt to the strap on his back. “The crystal you see on the buckle is the other world’s eye into this one,” Joseph explained. “Whoever looks through Sir Patrick’s window will be able to see what lies in front of you.”
Billy slipped off his old belt. “How do you know so much? I mean, about Sir Patrick and me?”
Joseph took the old belt and slung it over his shoulder. “Merlin is a great teacher. His songs carry many stories about the world of the living. Much of it I find hard to believe, but I know he would never lie.”
Bonnie adjusted the scabbard on Billy’s back. “Billy, remember how Merlin told stories to Barlow and his men in the candlestone? It sounds like he can go wherever he wants.”
“Yeah. I remember.” Billy nodded toward the scattered bones. “Joseph, what happened to those ‘pretenders’? How many were there?”
Joseph patted Billy on the back. “You are the seventh candidate, my boy, and the first in a very long time. And the others?” He picked up his umbrella and leaned on its curved handle. “Ah, yes. The others. They were drawn by the promise of power and wealth. They possessed impure passion, and all but one were forced back to this circle to be consumed by the dogs and vultures that frequent these woods.” His shoulders slumped, his steely glare fading. “They followed their desires rather than the light of wisdom. One of them, however, was captured by the New Table, and, as far as I know, he still wanders aimlessly in a deeper circle.”
Billy felt a pinch in the strap just below his shoulder blades. “How did they get in without Excalibur?” he asked, trying to reach the pinch.
Joseph straightened Billy’s strap and patted it flat. “There are other portals, but those doors are known only to a small number of dark souls in your world.”
Bonnie collapsed her umbrella and shook off the water. “How many portals are there?”
Joseph placed his hand on his chin and tilted his head upward. “There is one at the great tor that many know about, but few know how to enter it.” He reached down, grasped a long stick, and began scratching the mud with it. “Other portals have been created by men, though I will never understand their desire to come to this forsaken land. Ridiculous, I think. The other six candidates failed, because their entry portal differed from the one the true king would pass through.”
Billy folded his umbrella and let the rainwater drip to the path before handing it back to Joseph. “What’s our next step?”
“To find the next circle,” Joseph replied. “You have met the dragon, and you have already extinguished his first flaming arrow, but the trials of this circle are not complete. Your journey to the next level is still fraught with danger, and deeper still lie perils far worse than a few snakes. If you heed the path, you will avoid disaster.”
“Heed the path?” Billy dragged a toe through the mud. “Do you mean this path?”
Joseph drew a circle with his stick. “The narrow path you are on travels through this forest in a wide circle. When you come all the way around, you will reach a passage to the next circle.” He drew a smaller circle inside the first one. “Every succeeding circle will have a path, though they are not all circular and some will not be visible to your physical eyes. Somewhere along the path you will be tested, and every test will differ from the previous one.” He smacked the stick on Billy’s shoe. “But never forget that your mission is not merely to survive the tests; it is to rescue any physical captives you find in this realm. You see, there are myriad spiritual captives who only appear to possess flesh and bone, but they are out of your reach. Though you may pity them with a thousand tears, you will not be able to rescue them.”
Joseph gazed into their eyes. “That is all I will say for now. If I reveal too much, your journey will no longer test your wisdom. Just remember, the dragon you faced is the father of lies, and your enemies are his children. Be wise. Their faces will shine with sincerity, but their words will drip with poison.”
“Okay. Good advice.” Billy placed his hand on his new belt and took in an encouraging breath. “So, what are we waiting for? We have prisoners to rescue.”
Joseph collected Bonnie’s umbrella and smiled. “I will not see you again in this circle. As long as you stay on the path, you will not lose your way. Just remember, God always provides a guiding light.”
Billy and Bonnie turned and walked briskly down the path. Joseph called out, his words traveling across the space between them and seeping into their ears like a whispered song. “Remember the warnings in Merlin’s poem. Temptations will creep in like the mists of the night. They will devour you like a gnawing cancer. So beware! Even the suffering of another soul will consume your life’s energy and call on your spirit to bleed. Yes, even to death.”
Chapter 9
Walter rose from his knees at the edge of the compass design. “I don’t know what’s weirder,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and sauntering toward the view port, “watching those creepy drawings or this crazy window. I feel like a razor without a blade . . . useless.”
The professor joined Walter and stared at the window. “Then I shall unite with you in futility. We shall be a two-sided razor, but I have hope that the blade will soon arrive.”
Walter took a step closer to the view port. “I see someone!”
“Yes!” the professor cried. “It’s William! He’s approaching from the other side of the window!”
Ashley, still on her knees near the compass diagram, leaped up and ran back to her computer while Marilyn rushed to the window. Walter stretched his body and put his finger near the top frame. “And there’s Bonnie with some old guy I’ve never seen before. They’re all holding umbrellas.”
Billy’s hand drew closer, finally enveloping the entire view and covering the window in a dark brown shadow. After a few seconds, the other world reappeared, but the view jumped wildly. Treetops spun around a cloudy sky, then rocketed upward, giving way to a close-up of the green undergrowth being tromped by Billy’s shoes.
A pair of hands partially covered the window again, moving rapidly for a moment, then falling to the side of a man’s lower torso. As the man stepped back, more of his body became visible.
“The belt!” the professor exclaimed.
Walter’s eyes darted all across the wall. “What belt?”
The professor grasped his own belt. “Merlin’s poem told William to find a belt, that it would be the ‘camera’s eye.’ It seems that he has put it on and we are looking at his world from the belt’s vantage point. We are seeing what William sees.”
Walter took a long stride backwards, away from the wall. “Yep. There’s Bonnie again and that dude in a tux. Who do you think he is?”
“He doesn’t appear to be a prisoner,” the professor said. “The legends speak of a guide who might be in the circles, but I wouldn’t expect a member of the Jewish Council to be dressed in a tuxedo.”
“The Jewish Council?” Walter repeated.
“Yes. We covered it during the class on the Arthur legends. Since it will be on our unit exam when we return home, you would do well to look it up.”
“Could he be a New Table knight?” Marilyn asked.
Ashley’s rapid taps on her computer sounded like a woodpecker on a bug-filled tree. “Since he’s not wearing a cloak, I doubt he’s a knight, but we’ll know more in just a second.” She punched in a final sequence on her keypad. “There! Now to start it up.” Walter dashed back to the computer and stooped next to Ashley. The screen began drawing a detailed map, dozens of squiggling lines running through color-coded land and water masses—forests, fields, ponds, and streams.
“It’s a contour map,” Ashley explained. “Sir Patrick’s house is in the center, and you can see about two miles of the surrounding topography.”
Seconds later, faint, pulsing dots appeared on various parts of the map. Walter moved his finger across the screen, counting. “One, two, three . . . looks like eight.”
“Yes, there are eight,” Ashley said, “and I’ll have their numbers in a second.”
The professor approached the computer table and leaned on the corner. “Their numbers?”
Ashley pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Yes, each chip has an identification number. The encoding suggested a hierarchy, so maybe it represents the ranking of the bearer. With only two samples, Larry couldn’t come up with a definitive solution, but with eight more, we should be able to crack the code.” She angled her head toward the ceiling. “Okay, Larry. Is this enough data? Let’s make sure we get it right.”
The computer’s voice buzzed through the laptop’s speakers. “Ashley, to quote Alexander Pope, ‘To err is human, to forgive, divine.’ In other words, I do not make mistakes; I am but a machine. Yet in the spirit of forgiveness, I will provide my analysis.”
Ashley turned the speaker volume down. “Karen, what have you been feeding Larry?”
“Not much. I let him browse your digital library for a snack. It looks like he ate Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations and the works of Mark Twain.”
Ashley smacked her palm against the table. “Oh, no! He’ll be insufferable! Can you delete them?”
“I’m on it. He’s been quoting Shakespeare with a southern accent for an hour.”
Ashley studied the screen while drumming her fingers. “Okay, the numbers are coming in.” Her finger hovered over a flashing dot. “According to Larry, this brightest one is number seven in the hierarchy.” She slid her thumb on the mousepad, then clicked its button. “Now here’s something interesting.”
“What?” Walter asked, lowering his head close to the screen.
Ashley pushed the computer back a few inches and put her finger near one of the dots. “The weaker the signal, the lower the number. See? The dimmest one is encoded as number one.”
Walter pointed at a dot on the opposite corner. “Here’s one that looks even dimmer.”
Ashley leaned closer and frowned. “You’re right, but it’s not transmitting a ranking.” She guided the mouse cursor over the dot, and a series of numbers popped up on the screen. “Unless you call zero a ranking. The lack of intensity in the signal indicates weakness of transmission or lack of data. In other words, it’s either farther away or something’s distorting the stream.”
“Ashley, my programming instructs me to inform you of an anomaly.”
Ashley’s head tilted upward. “An anomaly? What is it?”
“Anomaly–noun; deviation or departure from the normal or common order, form, or rule—”
“I know what the word means! Just tell me what the anomaly is.”
“The encryption was much simpler than you anticipated. You could have broken it in your head.” A series of numbers flashed across the bottom of the screen. “See for yourself.”
Ashley followed the stream of data with her eyes. “It
is
simple . . . too simple.”
“Why would they want us to break the code?” the professor asked.
“It’s pretty suspicious if you ask me,” Walter said. “Never trust an open door in your enemy’s hideout.”
The professor pointed at Walter. “Well put. Sir Patrick’s computers have not been able to crack the code in the past, so whoever simplified it must realize that we would notice.”
Marilyn placed her hand on the viewing window. The trees and fern-like undergrowth moved up and down in a rhythmic sway, the foliage passing by at the speed of a marching gait. Bonnie was nowhere in sight. “Please put it in simple terms, Ashley. What do you think we’re seeing here?”
Ashley leaned back in her chair. With three creases furrowing her brow, she took a deep breath and crossed her arms. “I think we’re looking at our own world and our own time. The window in front of us is a gateway into another dimension, and the belt is a kind of cross-dimensional camera port within that realm. As Billy moves with the belt, our view of the other dimension moves with him. Since we can’t see Bonnie, she’s obviously out of the camera’s view, probably walking next to him.” She moved one hand to her chin and slowly stroked it. “I think Billy and Bonnie are actually still in our world, just in a different dimensional sphere. Without this view port we wouldn’t be able to see them or anything in their dimension, and they can’t see us or anything in ours.”
Marilyn’s head bobbed in time with the window’s image. “Does that make sense in your experience, Professor?”
The professor chuckled. “I have never personally experienced cross-dimensional phenomena, but I have read a reliable account of one.” He leaned toward the laptop screen. “Do you have an electronic Bible on your computer?”
“Larry has one,” Ashley replied, tapping the keys once again. “I’ll have him send it across. What version?”
“I am most familiar with the King James. Please look up Second Kings chapter six.”
“You got it.”
After a few seconds Ashley turned the laptop toward the professor. He slipped his spectacles over his eyes and began reading.
“And when the servant of the man of God was risen early, and gone forth, behold, an host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. And his servant said unto him, ‘Alas, my master! how shall we do?’ And he answered, ‘Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.’ And Elisha prayed, and said, ‘Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see.’ And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha.”
The professor folded his spectacles and turned the screen back toward Ashley. “Another invisible dimension, Miss Stalworth? Was Elisha’s servant granted a view port similar to this window?”
Ashley shrugged her shoulders. “Could be. Who knows? What I can deduce is that those microchips are in the other dimension, so their carriers somehow found another portal. And their brightness on my map indicates that our view port is getting closer to bad guy number seven.”
She grasped both sides of the screen and tilted it farther back. “Although the map shows geographic features in our area, it also computes the location of the energy sources from the other dimension based on Apollo’s readings. I digitally anchored the map in place based on light streams that appear to be static. In other words, there are sources of electromagnetic energy in the other dimension that aren’t moving, so as Billy’s belt moves within the anchored map, we can watch where he goes. Right now, he and Bonnie are about a mile and a half to our northwest, and they’ve almost completed a circular path.”
The professor strolled to the view port, his hands behind his back. He stood next to Marilyn, watching the continued up and down undulations on the wall. “I believe it’s imperative that we find Sir Patrick at once. It seems that a crisis arose while I was at the airport, and much is amiss. If I understand Patrick’s interpretation of the legends correctly, he needs a dragon in order to deal with our enemies, so he likely has gone in search of Clefspeare.” He withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket, scanned the words written on it, then slid it back in. “Patrick’s note gives me an idea of where to look for them, Marilyn. Will you come with me?”
Marilyn swiveled her head toward Ashley and Walter. “What about the kids?”
“Sir Barlow is here, and from what I have seen, these two are quite capable of taking care of themselves. I, however, will most certainly need your assistance. We must find Hartanna, and our journey may be more than I can handle alone.”
Marilyn nodded. “I’ll go. You know as well as I do how much I want to find my husband.” She lowered her eyes. “I mean, Clefspeare.”
“Of course you do. And you may be the only one who can find him.” He gestured toward the doorway. “Shall we go?”
After giving Ashley his cell phone number, the professor led Marilyn to the doorway, and they disappeared into the corridor.
Ashley returned her gaze to the computer map, shaking her head slowly. “Walter, I don’t like this.”
Walter crouched at Ashley’s side. “Losing battery power?”
“No, that’s fine.” She pointed at the screen. “See here? Billy’s half-angstrom signal is about to meet this four-angstrom electromagnetic echo.”
“What?” Walter said, frowning. “Could you translate that into ‘human’?”
Ashley pressed her lips together. “Sorry. I’m in data mode.” She took in a deep breath, then spoke slowly. “If Billy and Bonnie keep traveling at their current rate, they’ll meet a member of the New Table in about five minutes.”
Billy slowed his gait, then halted. Bonnie walked up close behind, whispering in his ear. “Do you sense danger?”
“I’m not sure.” He scanned the trees lining the path. The oaks were taller here with broad limbs spreading out as if inviting them into a welcoming embrace. Sunlight barely filtered through the leafy branches above, poking through with pencil-thin shafts of light. The sun began heating the atmosphere, raising prickles on his neck. He took a deep breath of the humid air and let it out slowly while stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Everything’s so different here, I can’t tell what I’m feeling. I don’t sense danger, but something’s not right. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“Do you think it would be safe for me to fly up and look around? Maybe I could see where we’re going—you know, check if there’s anything to watch out for.”
Billy searched the canopy above. “There’s a hole in the branches. Think you could fit through that?”
“I’ll know soon enough.” Bonnie stretched out her wings and jumped. Seconds later she darted through the hole, the tips of her wings barely touching the woody fingers of the tallest trees. Billy tried to follow her flight, catching glimpses of her winged shadow as she soared over the forest. After a minute or two, she reappeared through the canopy rift. With a flurry of her wings, she settled a few feet in front of Billy. She held a hand over her chest, catching her breath, and her windblown hair fell over her eyes. “It’s so beautiful up there!” she said, pushing her hair back. “I saw a huge river on each side of us, and they flow into an enormous, crystal blue lake. I wish we could explore it all.”
“Yeah,” Billy said, scooting one of his rain-dampened hiking boots through the moist dirt, “but I doubt that we’re supposed to.” He nudged a pebble. The grass was still far removed from the narrow trail of mud, but there were no prints, not even animal tracks. He kicked the pebble down the path and lifted his gaze. “Could you tell what’s ahead?”
Bonnie waved her hand across the scene in front of them. “The trees thin out, and it looks like the path disappears into a hill, maybe a cave.”
Billy craned his neck to see around the bend, but the path disappeared into the dark forest. Keeping watch over both sides of the path, he trudged ahead with Bonnie close behind. Overhead, the storm clouds raced away, and the tropical sun beat down. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, and damp circles appeared on the front of his long-sleeved shirt. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. This mission was like a jungle safari, not the hike across the British countryside that he had hoped for.
He glanced over at Bonnie. Rings of sweat dampened her shirt, and her occasional quiet grunts and red face revealed her own discomfort . . . or worry.