Jack Staples and the Ring of Time (2 page)

Chapter 2

WITHIN THE FLAMES

The blazing ceiling sent ash and embers floating down in an otherworldly rainfall, yet Jack Staples didn’t move a muscle. Utterly terrified, he sat alone on the hot, sandy ground in the center of the burning circus tent. The heat was blistering, the air shimmered, and the fire danced, yet Jack could not make himself stand.

Suddenly, from somewhere deep within the flames came a voice that rasped with the sound of a freshly dug grave.

“COME TO ME,” it creaked. “YOU CANNOT HIDE FOREVER.”

The fire was so hot Jack was sure his skin would soon burst into flames. However, the voice was far more terrifying than mere fire ever could be. Once again it called to him.

“YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE ME,” it rasped. “TOGETHER, WE WILL DESTROY THE AWAKENED AND RULE THIS WORLD. THE PROPHECY DEMANDS IT. YOU ARE MINE!”

As Jack lifted his arms to shield himself from the voice, he thought he saw a bright and horrible … something, standing in the midst of the inferno. Yet when he looked again, there was nothing but raging fire.

But then Jack saw the shadow of a great beast reflected in the smoke, approaching from the opposite direction. Fear gripped him as the shadow quickly resolved into one of the circus lions. The beast looked otherworldly striding through the thick veil of ash and smoke.

Large firebrands cascaded from the walls and ceiling, yet Jack couldn’t make himself move. Without slowing, the mighty lion stalked straight up to him and let out a fierce growl. It was the lion with the golden mane, and as it looked at Jack, its eyes reflected the light of the burning flames.

Firebrands landed all around, and the smoke grew steadily thicker, but neither beast nor boy took notice. Both stared at each other as if in a trance. Ever so slowly, Jack stood. Tears streamed from his smoke-filled eyes, and his skin burned, but he didn’t look away. Without thinking, he reached out and touched the beast’s shoulder, tracing his finger along the length of a small scar. And as he touched the mighty lion, it began to purr.

For a long moment, Jack and the lion were completely still. Smoldering fragments rained down while flames hissed and danced. Finally, the beast let out a small sigh and glanced at the burning tent. Jack also looked. The blazing walls were both beautiful and terrifying.

As Jack began to cough from the thick smoke filling his lungs, the great beast nudged him with its nose and then inhaled deeply. Without warning the lion let out a thunderous roar. The roar was so powerful that the force of it knocked Jack flat on his back.

Lying on blistering sand surrounded by a raging fire, Jack was sure he was about to die.

Outside the tent, the world was chaos. Full night had fallen, and in the minutes after the fire erupted, a massive thundercloud broke overhead. Rain poured down, and lightning streaked the sky. The dirt roads were quickly churned into mud as beast and human ran frantically in every direction.

Parker stood in the midst of it, in the pouring rain, his eyes fixed on the burning tent. The same man who’d carried him out of the tent stood just behind, holding him firmly by the shoulders.

“I’m letting go of you now, but you need to promise you won’t try to go back in there again,” the man said gruffly.

“I could have saved him,” Parker cried. “I told you to put me down. I could have saved him!”

“Boy, if I hadn’t grabbed you when I did, you’d be as dead as he is. There was nothing you could have done.” The man pointed his finger at Parker. “I need to go now. Don’t do anything stupid.” Without another word he walked away.

A beastly roar came from somewhere deep inside the burning tent, and as it sounded, Parker collapsed to his knees and wept.

A short distance away, a tusked elephant ran past as men and women dove into the mud to get out of its way. An arctic wolf trotted in the opposite direction, followed by an ape that seemed to be chasing an ostrich. Yet Parker barely noticed any of it. His attention was on the flames stretching into the night sky.

“Parker! Jack! Where are you?”

Parker stood slowly.

“Parker! Jack! Do you hear me?”

It was his mother’s voice. She was alive! He wanted to call out to her, but how could he? Jack was dead because of him. Just as he was about to turn away, his mother caught his eye.

“Parker! Son, I’ve been calling you. Didn’t you hear me?” She ran over and threw her arms around him. “I am so glad you’re safe. I was worried about you.” After a moment, she froze. Keeping her hands on his shoulders, she leaned back.

“Where is your brother?” Her voice was quiet, though it still held the sound of alarm.

Parker opened his mouth, but no sound came. His mother’s face shifted from alarm to horror as she dropped to her knees. Rain continued to pour down, and lightning streaked the night sky. Wild and exotic animals galloped and pranced all around, yet neither Parker nor his mother paid them any attention. Both just stared into the flames.

After a long moment, his mother stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Your brother is not dead,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I will not believe it, and you mustn’t either. He is the Child of Prophecy. And he will lead the Awakened in the Last Battle. I do not believe this fire will kill him.”

Parker knew his brother was special. But as he watched the blistering flames rocket into the night sky, he couldn’t make himself believe Jack was still alive. He didn’t think anyone could survive that. Not even the Child of Prophecy.

It took four hours for the larger flames to burn out, and the sun had not yet risen when Parker’s mother walked into the ashes. Red-hot embers covered the ground while small flames danced throughout. As the rain subsided, every drop sent smoke billowing upward. Silhouetted by smoke and flames, Parker’s mother continued forward until the haze obscured her completely.

Minutes passed. Parker began to fear for his mother’s safety. He stood, nervously wondering if he should follow her in.

“Parker! I need you,” she called, her voice muted by the heavy haze. “Come, my boy!”

Parker darted forward, hope blooming in his chest. His feet warmed as the soles of his shoes began to burn. When he found his mother at the center of the burned-out tent, she was kneeling before a mass of matted fur and seared flesh.

It’s the lion
, Parker realized as hope dissolved into fear. He didn’t want to find his brother’s body if it was going to look anything like this poor beast. “Mother, what are you doing?” he cried.

“Get down here and help me push!” she said through teary eyes. “It’s too heavy, and I need your help.”

The body of the lion shifted ever so slightly.

What
? Parker couldn’t believe it. Unsure what was happening, he did as his mother asked. Kneeling on hot ashes, Parker and his mother shoved the beast with all their might. And there, lying unconscious on the sandy ground and looking as if he’d been in the sun for days, was Jack Staples.

The searing light brought an agony that cut to the bone.

“I love you, my boy,” Jack’s mother whispered. “You are safe with me now.”

Jack opened his eyes as pain coursed through his body. He was lying in a wagon bed with his head in his mother’s lap. Parker sat up front, driving.

“Where …,” Jack croaked. He stopped and tried to work moisture into his mouth. “Where are we?” he rasped.

“We are almost home. We left the circus this morning, and we will be home within the hour.”

As he looked up at his mother, he blinked. A strange light was glowing from somewhere deep in her chest.
I must be imagining things
, he thought. Yet even as he watched, her hands moved in a strange pattern as they gathered the light. Smiling at him, she touched his burning skin, and where she touched, the pain began to subside.

“We will be home soon, I promise.”

Far too exhausted to keep his eyes open a moment longer, Jack fell fast asleep.

Chapter 3

THE SHADOWFOG

The morning after they arrived home from the circus fire, Jack’s brother and father left Ballylesson to make a delivery of stone and mortar to a nearby village. His father worked as a stonemason, and both boys often worked alongside him. A few days later, his father and Parker were still gone and had sent word to Jack and his mother that they wouldn’t be back for another week at least.

Jack quickly learned that he had become a bit of a legend in Ballylesson. Everyone wanted to hear the story of the boy who’d been saved by the lion. Yet he hated talking about it; he didn’t even like thinking about it. Everything about that night at the circus confused him. Why would a lion sacrifice itself to save him?

Five days after the fire, Jack felt much better. Doctor Falvey called his recovery “a miracle.” He said it should have taken weeks for the burns to heal, yet within a few short days, they were almost gone.

Around three in the afternoon, on a cloudy Thursday, Jack was feeling desperate to leave the house. He’d been stuck in bed for a few days. Earlier in the week his best friend, Arthur Greaves, had come to visit, and the boys had promised to meet in the woods outside the schoolhouse on Thursday afternoon.

Jumping down the stairs four at a time and running into the kitchen, Jack called out, “Mother, can I go and meet Arthur?”

“I don’t know,” his mother answered. “Doctor Falvey said you need to take it easy. How are you feeling?”

“Really good, Mother. I promise. Please, may I go? I haven’t been outside in ages!”

She paused a moment, then smiled. “I guess I’m going to have to let you fly free at some point. But promise me you won’t be running about too much. I don’t want you to lose your breath.”

“Yes, Mother.” Jack grinned and immediately darted for the front door.

“If it starts to rain,” she called after him, “you come straight home!”

“Yes, Mother!” he yelled over his shoulder.

Jack ran straight into the woods. A week before the circus fire, Jack, Parker, and Arthur had begun building what Jack believed would one day become a mighty fortress. At the moment it was only a piece of wood wedged between two branches high up in a tree, but they had plans to add more boards in the coming days.

As he arrived at the widest and tallest oak in the forest, Jack immediately began to climb. When he was nearly halfway up, something inexplicable happened. The air felt different—sharper somehow. Before he could think about what had changed, a mighty wind ripped through the forest, shaking the surrounding trees and sending earth and leaves flying. As the wind passed over Jack, he was petrified. His fingers gripped the branch above while his feet stayed rooted to the branch below.

Then the wind passed, and something else changed. The forest was absolutely silent. It wasn’t the silence of nothing happening, as when wind blows through leaves, birds sing their songs, and crickets chirp. It was as if time itself were holding its breath.

As he held tightly to the tree, Jack heard the sound of a thousand voices whispering in his ear.

“I SSSSEE YOU,” the voices rasped.

Jack leaped back without thinking. Only when he was falling through the air did he realize his mistake. As he dropped toward the forest floor, he heard the ringing of bells somewhere in the distance.

When he opened his eyes, Jack gasped for breath. He was in his house, lying in the center of the upstairs hallway and feeling as if someone had punched him in the stomach. From somewhere in the distance, he could still hear the ringing of bells; though, as he listened, they quickly faded. He searched his mind, trying to remember what he had just been doing, but nothing came to him.

Standing on shaky legs, he breathed in deeply, trying to fill his lungs. When he opened the door to his bedroom, the only light came from the full moon shining through the window.

Jack was surprised to find his mother standing by the window and looking out. Next to her was a golden-haired girl a little taller than Jack.

“How can you ask this of me, Elion?” Jack’s mother said.

The girl, Jack supposed her name was Elion, spoke. “And you think you can keep her safe from what’s coming? You think you can stop him?” Elion’s voice had a strange musical quality.

Jack’s mother began to cry. “But this is my child; she is mine!”

As his mother turned to face Elion, Jack saw her cradling a baby in her arms.

Elion reached up and placed a comforting hand on his mother’s shoulder. “This is the Child of Prophecy, and you know as well as I that he is coming. If I don’t take her now, all will be lost.” She turned to look at the cloudless sky. “We are not the only ones who can read the stars. The Lion’s Eye has been opened.”

“Mother, what’s going on?” Jack interrupted.

Both Elion and his mother spun around, his mother shielding the baby with her body and Elion drawing a short sword from inside her cloak. Elion stood on the tips of her toes, assuming a very dangerous-looking stance.

“Who are you, boy?” Elion demanded. “Speak now, or die!” Her eyes seemed to gather the light of the room and shifted from deep blue to stormy gray. Jack was surprised to see that she was not a girl but a—he wasn’t sure what she was. Her ears were slightly pointed, and her pale skin sparkled in the moonlight. She was unlike anyone Jack had ever seen and was absolutely beautiful.

Jack turned to his mother. “Mother, it’s me, Jack! What’s going on?”

His mother looked at him as if she’d never seen him before.

“Look at his eyes!” Elion gasped, stepping closer.

“What do you mean?” his mother demanded.

“Come here, boy.” Elion lowered her sword and offered Jack her hand.

He stepped forward, feeling as if he were in a dream. Both Elion and his mother peered into his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” his mother whispered, taking a fearful step back. “What does it mean?” She shared a confused look with Elion as the ringing of bells rose once again and an impossibly bright light exploded in the room.

Jack gasped as his eyes shot open. For a long moment he didn’t move; he just stared up at the sky, listening to the ringing of bells. He was lying on the forest floor, utterly confused.
What a strange dream
, he thought as the bells faded.
Of course my mother knows who I am
.

He rolled onto his side, and his breath caught. Not far off, thousands of thin, shadowy wisps were ascending from the forest floor. Still struggling to breathe, he rubbed his eyes, hoping to clear them. Yet the dark tendrils were still there and growing thicker by the second. What was just as strange was that Jack was sure he could hear a whispering voice coming from somewhere deep within the dark fog, though he couldn’t understand the words.

It’s not just one voice
, he realized.
It is hundreds of them—
thousands
, maybe
.

The hovering darkness was no longer just rising from the ground but was beginning to move. And the wisps weren’t moving randomly or being blown by a breeze; they swayed back and forth as if searching for something.

Jack’s breathing quickened as he sat up. He needed to move. He had no idea what this darkness was, but he was sure he didn’t want it to touch him.

The shadowy coils began merging together, gathering into larger, finger-sized tentacles. And as the mist thickened, the whispering voices grew louder and angrier. Jack still couldn’t understand them—if in fact they were saying anything—but their sound sent a chill down his spine.

After scrambling to his feet, he took a few steps back. The dark fog was spread out in front of him as far as he could see. The shadowed tendrils had become wrist-thick and were growing ever larger.

Jack had once seen old Farmer McCauley’s hounds hunt a rabbit. The dogs had run back and forth, searching for the hare’s scent. Once they’d smelled their prey, they had howled excitedly and bolted in the direction it had fled. As Jack watched the snaking, fist-sized tentacles, they reminded him of those hounds. The closer they came, the quicker they moved. The whispers were growing too—thousands of voices quickly resolving into a deafening roar.

As Jack stumbled back, it was clear the slithering darkness had caught his scent, and just like Farmer McCauley’s hounds, it no longer swayed lazily but surged forward.

Jack let out a terrified scream as he sprinted through the forest. Behind him the tens of thousands of whispers joined together, uniting in one bone-chilling voice.

“THE CHILD,” the voices boomed.

“HE IS HERE,” they screamed.

“WE MUST TAKE HIM!” they thundered.

The fear that only seconds earlier had paralyzed Jack now gave him wings. Jack ran faster and harder than he’d ever run. The tentacles had become as thick as his body and were still merging together, blanketing the forest floor in an ocean of darkness. The ocean writhed and rolled as black waves rose high, crashing down behind him. And within the waves were the shapes of monstrous beings.

“THE ASSASSIN COMES,” the voices roared.

“THE CHILD MUST BOW!” they shrieked.

The fog was only a few paces behind him now, rushing in on either side and threatening to crash over him. In front of Jack was a small hill, and just a little farther was the field that surrounded his school. He was desperate to find anyone who might help him wake from this nightmare. Maybe his best friend, Arthur Greaves, would still be there? He quickly looked back to see the fog closing in, and in that moment, he tripped over something large and soft. As he hit the ground, the wave of darkness crashed over him, covering Jack with its embrace.