Jack James and the Call of the Tanakee (16 page)

EIGHTEEN

JACK, IN LOOKING for Amelia, hoped he didn’t have to search the entire Black Pyramid. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found her in the dormitory. She didn’t seem so happy to see him, though. She had her head down, sitting on a cot and staring at the floor. He got beside her slowly.

“Are you okay?” he didn’t know what else to say.

“He used me, Jack,” she sniffled. “My own father. The one person in this world I’m supposed to trust, and he betrayed that trust.”

“I’m-I’m sure he had a good reason.”

“There’s never a good reason to betray someone like that, especially your own daughter,” she put her head in her hands. “You could never understand. Your dad is so great. He shares everything with you.”

“That may be true,” Jack got up brusquely. “But I happen to know a little bit about betrayal right now. From everyone. Even you, Amelia,” he caught her ruddy stare and turned away. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t,” he squirmed away. “Just don’t.”

“Jack, I’m…I’m sorry, but—”

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” he said. “Because this is way past sorry. I mean, I feel bad that your dad secretly used your abilities, but at least you still have Ayita. You still have a protector. I don’t have anything. I lost the O/A and Takota to Argus. And I lost
you
too,” he paced to the exit. Amelia stopped him.

“Jack, I thought I knew what was going on,” she sniffled. “We’re a pathetic pair, aren’t we? Both of us confused as the day we were born.”

“But why, Amelia? Why didn’t you see this coming? I mean, can’t you see the future?”

“I don’t see everything,” she said. “I only have the powers Eteea wants me to have, I guess.”

“Yeah,” agreed Jack. “I’ve had firsthand experience with that.”

“It works in mysterious ways,” she tried to force a smile. Then she yawned and stretched. “You know what? All this excitement has really drained me. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just get some rest.”

Jack wasn’t in the mood for a nap. He still had too much energy to burn, and knew just where to burn it. The Discovery Room.

“THERE YOU ARE, JACK,” Rory greeted him with a big smile. Her tone told him he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. He was right. “I’m glad you’re back. We need to do some quick tests on you, okay?”

And before he knew it, Jack felt like a prized pig. Poked and prodded. Measured and scrutinized. First they took measurements of his eyes and tested his vision. Then they confirmed his bone density and shocked his muscles with electronic pulses to examine his endurance and reflexes. The testing and retesting had gone on far too long, and he’d begun to lose his patience.

“Tell me again, why do I have to do this?”

The lab tech raised an eyebrow.

“Just standard stuff, Jack. Don’t worry.”

“But why?” he was just plain confused. But more than that, he was annoyed. “Why do we have to do this? What about Argus? Why doesn’t he have to?”

Rory ran a laser grid over Jack’s temples, then crossed his eyeballs. The brightness stung for a moment.

“We already did all the testing on Argus,” she laughed.

“You did, huh? And I suppose you’re the ones who determined he was the True Soul?”

 “It was a group consensus.”

“Group consensus,” he repeated as the exam continued. “You guys have a pretty thorough procedure, then? Did all the background checks on him?”

NINETEEN

TAKOTA FOLLOWED ARGUS, his new charge, everywhere he went, although he didn’t like the assignment. It felt strange. But, deep inside, he knew protecting the True Soul was his first priority.

When he and Argus arrived at the Discovery Room, they found two people in there already—Rory and Jack. Jack saw him and smiled. Then Jack noticed Argus, and every shred of joy evaporated. It ripped Takota apart inside.

“Ah,” said Argus. “Getting in some discovery? Excellent choice, Jack. You need all the experience you can get.”

“Argus, I’m gonna…” Jack made a move, but Rory held onto him.

“Don’t, Jack.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from him, Rory,” Argus scoffed. “I’ve got my protector,” he nodded smugly at Takota. “Where’s
your
protector, Jack?”

“You filthy…” Jack did it again, and again Rory stopped him. Argus laughed out loud.

“That’s enough!” Takota shouted. “I’m not letting you fight over me anymore!” he controlled his breath, concentrated, and slipped out of time and space. As he crossed dimensions, he heard both Jack and Argus calling his name. Right away, he found himself where he wanted to be, near the waterfall at the entrance to Wind Whisper Woods. In a sudden blast of electric light, Ayita was by his side.

“What are you doing?” she looked confused. Then, with three other blasts, Cheyton, Enola and Pud showed up, all surveying the forest, ready for anything.

“What’s going on?” Cheyton twisted to scan their surroundings. “Why are we here?”

“That’s
my
business,” snapped Takota. “Why’d you all have to follow me?”

“Because we’re a tribe, Takota,” Enola’s greenish glow relaxed him a bit. “We’re supposed to stick together.”

“I need to talk to Orzabal alone.”

Ayita took his hand, and her gaze locked onto his.

“It’s about Jack, isn’t it?”

“Why can’t I just stay with him? Why can’t Argus get another protector?”

“Argus is the True Soul,” she said softly.

“That’s what everybody keeps saying,” he shook his head. “I’m just not sure.”

He teleported to the top of the long stairway, carved into the steep rock cliff. Near the ledge he stood. Toes dangling, shaggy hair tumbling over his eyes, he stared down at his four Tanakee friends.

“Takota!” yelled Pud. Then he blinked to Takota’s right. “We have to get back to the Black Pyramid. They need us there.”

As the rest of the Tanakee appeared on the rocky cliff, Takota answered.

“Something’s wrong.”

“What’s giving you problems, dear?” Enola asked.

“Can’t you see? It’s everything. I’m not sure if I can trust Commander Klein. How do we know these Eteeans really have our best interest at heart? Most of all, I’m not certain about Argus. I mean, where did he come from? Doesn’t this seem a little odd to anyone else?”

“I can’t believe this,” Cheyton threw up his paws. “After all this time I’ve been telling you guys humans aren’t to be trusted, now you finally wake up?”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Ayita argued. “I trust Amelia completely.”

“Really?” Cheyton got close and forced her into a stare. “Do you
really
trust her?”

Ayita looked away.

“It is not about whether you can trust humans,” a powerful voice rocked the trees. Immediately, by the smooth yet commanding tone, Takota knew it was Orzabal. The gray old Tanakee made himself seen by stepping out of a ripple in the very air, his way of moving through dimensions. Much more refined than the others. Takota saw that plainly. “Do not concern yourselves with trusting others,” he declared, giving each of the stunned Tanakee an individual glance. “All you must do is learn how to listen to what is inside of you. Listen to the Call.”

“The Call?” Takota repeated.

“We Tanakee have been put here for one reason and one reason only—to protect the Children of the Blue Crystal. Each of us is assigned our own child, and each of us must come to the aid of that child when the time comes,” he lowered his head, keeping his eyes on the young ones. “That time is now.”

“But Orzabal,” Takota begged. “How are we to know who our true charge is?”

“You will feel it,” Orzabal spoke automatically, his tenor low, his emotions steady. “When your child is in danger, the Call is unmistakable.”

“What happens if I feel the Call for more than one child?” Takota asked. Orzabal’s face went blank. He tilted his head one way, then the other.

“Then that would present a problem, indeed,” Orzabal confirmed Takota’s worst fear. “In that case, it must be up to you to decide which child to protect. All I can say to you, Takota, is that you have been chosen to protect the True Soul.”

“That’s just it,” Takota felt like ripping out his own fur. “I thought the True Soul was Jack. So did everyone else. Now they’re telling me it’s this other boy, Argus Cole.”

“Argus Cole,” Orzabal muttered under his breath, almost as if he recognized the name. “Argus Cole,” he looked at Takota. “And you feel a connection with this Argus?”

“Yes,” Takota admitted. He scanned the faces of his friends and let his eyes sink to the forest floor.

“And you feel the same with Jack?”

“I-I think so. Things are so clouded. I get the same feeling from both boys.”

Orzabal stared into the clouds. Puffy white against a deep blue canvas.

“I knew this wasn’t going to be easy,” he closed his eyes and clapped once. In the time it took for his hands to come together, he separated into ten duplicates. Then those ten each separated into ten more. All in the snap of a finger, one hundred Orzabals formed a ring around the young Tanakee, who stood stupefied at the sudden change. Takota looked up, and his confusion boiled over into shock. The sky had turned dark with thin, sinewy streaks of black that glinted in the reflected sun. Instantly, his mind went to the battle on planet La’oon.

“The Nagas!” Pud shouted.

“How’d they find this place!” Cheyton demanded of no one in particular. “Wind Whisper Woods is the one place in the world they weren’t supposed to find!”

“That matters not!” one of the Orzabal copies spoke while the others fended off the Nagas attack, repelling them with ferocity. The black flying serpents shrieked and howled, then, in one great dark wave, turned in formation and whipped through the gorge, along the open tree line, and out of sight. The Tanakee master regrouped into one solitary figure again, his dimensional duplicates collapsing into him like fine layers of smoke. “What matters now is that they’re here, and they’re going to find the rest of the Tanakee if we don’t do something.”

“The village!” Takota clenched his fists and concentrated on his old home. As soon as he got there, he knew things were amiss. The Tanakee settlement was a ghost town. Every one of the small caves, hollowed out from the side of a tall rock cliff, was empty. His own home looked deserted, his mother and father and young sister gone.

“We’re too late,” he told the others after they’d appeared at his sides, each in brilliant, colorful flashes. He assumed they’d beaten Orzabal there, but realized the foolishness of that thinking when the ancient one stepped from one of the small dwellings with a dire look on his face.

“Takota is right, but only partially. We’re too late to stop the village from being evacuated, but not too late to save our loved ones.”

“So the other Tanakee?” Takota asked. “They’re okay?”

“They’ve moved to safer places. Scattered like the wind.”

“Like the lost tribes,” Ayita whispered. “Now we’re all lost.”

High above their heads, a great clamor of clicking and clacking commanded the Tanakee’s attention. Takota’s heart fluttered at the sight of so many Nagas, knowing full well what would come next.

“If we don’t know where the other Tanakee went, how can we use Eteea to get there to help?”

“
We
don’t,” Orzabal answered. “
I
do.”

“But my family,” said Takota. “My old friends from the village. How can I be sure they’re safe?”

“You and your friends have important jobs to do. You must protect the humans. It’s my responsibility to watch over the Tanakee villagers. Do not trouble yourselves over such matters. Now go, protect the Children of the Blue Crystal.”

“But Orzabal, what about Jack and Argus? Who am I supposed to protect? Who’s really the True Soul?”

Orzabal regarded Takota with a keen eye.

“Takota, you must trust yourself,” with one casual step, the sage old Tanakee strode into the invisible realm between dimensions, vanishing from sight, although he could still be heard. “Trust yourself, for Eteea trusts you.”

TWENTY

AMELIA TOSSED AND FUSSED in her bunk. She was eager for a comfortable position on the unfamiliar mattress, her head angled on an unforgiving and uncomfortable pillow, her skin chafed by the foreign and altogether unappealing sheets. Oh how she wished her dad would have brought some linens from home. It would have made her abrupt move to the Black Pyramid at least a little less jarring, though, by now, she’d grown accustomed to uprooting her life and changing zip codes.

As tired as she was, she just couldn’t keep her mind from racing, or her body from shifting and fidgeting. So many changes. So many new developments. So much more to learn and understand. What was this place, this Black Pyramid? It seemed so large and forbidding. And who really were these people called the Eteeans? She knew her own father was in charge of them, but could they really be trusted? Could her father be trusted, for that matter? After learning of his secrets, that was a tough call.

All of it paled in comparison to what was happening to Jack, and Amelia felt the most emotional turmoil over that. It affected Amelia. It hurt her to see Jack so hurt. But she knew she couldn’t do anything about it. Not yet. It still wasn’t the time to reveal what she knew, and even thinking about it approached a dangerous line she would rather not cross.

These concerns she kept mulling over and over, an unrelenting assault on her psyche, wearing her down yet at the same time preventing any sort of slumber, not even one second.

Frustrated and fatigued, she was moments from giving up and getting up when a tiny seismic shock compelled her to stay still. She felt it again, a rumble deep beneath her. Barely perceptible, yet real. Boy was it real. Suddenly her bed rocked uncontrollably, left to right, side to side, corner to corner. Her only instinct was to get up and run, find a safe place to ride out the earthquake. That’s when she realized she was paralyzed. Not one muscle could she manipulate. Arms and legs frozen. Neck unable to pivot. Jaw unable to open. Eyes unable to close.

Then, something she’d been dreading all along. Something she’d experienced a hundred times before, yet would never, ever get used to. Heaviness on her chest. Unbearable weight on her sternum, pressing the breath out of her and squeezing her lungs dry of every last oxygen atom. At first she saw nothing unusual. She knew that would change. It always did. She always got a glimpse of her nocturnal intruder, the phantom who lived in this recurring nightmare of hers.

Her pulse pounded in her ears when she saw the shadows coalesce into the shape of a face. A woman’s face. Beautiful, but in a cruel way. Skin so pale, and eyes even paler. A harsh smile when she spoke.

“Amelia,” the breathy words floated in the sudden silence as the rumblings under the earth died down. “Sweet, intelligent, gifted Amelia.”

Amelia fought against her paralysis, straining and pushing and doing everything in her power to be released from whatever had her pinned down. Nothing worked, and that drove her further into panic, though on the outside she couldn’t show it. Couldn’t shout out for help. Couldn’t do a thing but lie there and listen to this malevolent being’s horrible voice.

“Do not fear me, Amelia. I’m here to help you…you and Argus. Together you will both do great, great things, Amelia. You will not disappoint me.”

What could she mean? What could this demon of her bad dreams possibly be talking about? Laughter. Loud and harsh, flooding the cavernous barracks. Amelia wanted to cover her ears and shield herself from the terrible chortles, but she was unable to move a muscle. She tried anyway, and the laughter grew even louder, more vulgar, more malicious. The earth quaked again, this time even stronger, shaking the floor, walls, and bunk after bunk after bunk. She thought the ceiling was going to crash on top of her, and that the ground would heave upward at the same time. Yet she kept willing herself back, determined to regain control of her own body.

Summoning every ounce of strength, every shred of resolve, she surged forward and belted out forcefully:

“NOOO!”

And the intruder was gone. The dormitory was still. Not a thing out of place. Not a sound to be heard. Amelia sat straight and held her hand to her chest, where her eagle feather hung on its beaded necklace. She hoped to gain a quick insight from Eteea, some clue as to who was visiting her in such an unwelcomed and vicious way. However, what she felt gave her the shock of her life. The feather. It was gone, and with it her intuition, her connection to all that is in the universe, and her very sense of self.

The sudden loss filled her with grief, almost to the point of falling back to the bed and weeping in despair. Through her tears, she refused to give in, and buoyed her spirits with the possibility she may have lost the feather somewhere. But her self-delusion wouldn’t last. She knew she’d had her feather on her neck just before she’d laid down for a nap. And now it was gone, taken by that-that thing.