Jack Templar and the Monster Hunter Academy: The Templar Chronicles: Book 2 (14 page)

I chuckled. “Oh, you mean Google. You mean Google on the Internet.”

“I’ll never get a handle on the modern world,” Aquinas mumbled. “In any case, what you won’t find on Google,” she paused, waiting for me to acknowledge that she had it right, “is that once word of the Templar’s true mission reached the secret corridors of power in Europe, money and men flowed into the young order.”

“But I thought they were called the Poor Knights, and took a vow of poverty.”

“They did, so men joining to fight would hand over their wealth to the Order. But what really gave the Black Guard within the Templars their power was what they discovered in the ruins of King Solomon’s Temple.”

The next carving showed brilliant streaks of energy, like beams of light exploding from underneath the Temple Mount.

“What was it?” I asked.

“The answer to defeating the Creach. A weapon so powerful that the ancients had buried it safely away, not entrusting it to either Man or Monster. The Jerusalem Stones.”

“Ren Lucre mentioned the stones to me when I faced him,” I said excitedly.

Aquinas appeared out of the darkness, suddenly very close to me. “What did he say about them, exactly?”

“He…he…it was like he was mocking me. Once when I was tied up as his prisoner, he laughed and said there wasn’t a Jerusalem Stone in sight. And the other…it was during my battle with him…”

“Yes…yes…” Aquinas pressed in closer to me.

“Just that he would defeat me; even if I had the Jerusalem Stones, I was no match for him.”

“He said that? Those exact words?” Aquinas demanded. “It’s important, boy.”

“Yes!” I exclaimed. “Just like I said.”

Aquinas took a step back, her face furrowed with worry. She mumbled to herself. “A ruse? A simple boast? Or something more? Not good. Not good at all. I must find out for sure.”

“Are you all right?” I asked.

Aquinas seemed to snap out of her thoughts, as if just remembering I was there. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. The fate of all of us rides on this one thing. We mustn’t get it wrong, you see. We can’t afford to get it wrong. No, not this time.”

I swung the torch back around to the next carving. An army of Templars rode through a sea of werewolves, trolls, ogres, demons and every other type of monster I could imagine. Beams of light shot out from the sword of the man in the lead position. “But it looks like we defeated the Creach.”

“Won the battle, but immortal beings can afford to take a longer view. Ren Lucre retreated and reorganized. Much as he is doing at this very moment.”

“So, I didn’t really kill him,” I whispered.

Aquinas studied me. “No, but I think you already knew that, didn’t you?”

I nodded. Since that night, I had felt Ren Lucre’s presence. He was out there and I knew we were somehow destined to meet again.

“No, he allowed the Templars to grow in strength and number, knowing it was only a matter of time before the Order’s success made enemies out of the wrong people. It finally happened on October 13, 1307; King Phillip of France, under the sway of a curious advisor who never seemed to age, had hundreds of Templars arrested, including the last Grand Master—Jacques de Molay, your ancestor and the man who you are named after.”

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“See for yourself,” Aquinas said.

I waved the torch down the wall and saw a life-sized rendering of my namesake. He was old and bearded but had the regal bearing of a man accustomed to giving orders and having them followed. His hands were tied in front of him. Ropes wrapped around his torso and tied him to a thick wooden stake. Below him, flames engulfed a woodpile. He was burned alive.

“It was a dark day in our history,” Aquinas said. “And perhaps on some unconscious level, the rest of the world knew it too. I told you he was killed on the 13th of October. That was a Friday. Have you ever heard of Friday the 13th being a bad omen?”

“Of course,” I said.

“This is where that belief originated. Even the Reg world knew something terrible had happened. Seven centuries later and they still take pause on Friday the 13th even if they don’t know the real reason why.”

“And what of the Jerusalem Stones?” I asked.

“Good. Very good. That’s exactly the right question. What about the Jerusalem Stones? It’s clear Ren Lucre was the strange advisor who had the ear of King Phillip. Phillip, in turn, controlled the Pope at the time, a weak fool who disbanded the Order on threats of invasion from Phillip. Certainly, Phillip expected to acquire the Stones and use them for his own purposes. But he was never able to move forward with his ambitions.”

“So he didn’t get the Stones,” I said.

“No, but neither did anyone else,” Aquinas said. “After his death, they disappeared from history. They are our best chance in the upcoming fight against the rising army Ren Lucre is mustering. The Jerusalem Stones must be found if we are to stop him.”

I looked back up at the face of my ancestor, Jacques de Molay. Even with the fire consuming the lower half of his body, he stood there bravely, a slight smirk on his face as if in some twisted way he thought he had pulled one over on his enemies. “Did he hide them? Keep them safe from falling into the wrong hands?”

“We can only hope,” Aquinas said. “But it was long ago prophesied that a direct descendent of Jacques de Molay would be the one to find the Stones and restore them to the Black Guard.”

“Wait, you’re talking about me, aren’t you? You want me to find the Jerusalem Stones,” I said.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Aquinas said. “If I had my way, you would be back in your small American town living a normal life. But it is what the world needs. If the world of Man is to survive, we must have the Jerusalem Stones to fight against the evil army Ren Lucre has created.”

“Aren’t there others? More descendants of…”

“There is only one other. And he lies in Ren Lucre’s dungeon. Yes, your father was searching for the Jerusalem Stones when he was captured. He believed he knew where they were and he knew how important they were. He risked everything.”

“But…what about…”

Aquinas put a hand on my shoulder. “There are no others. You, my dear boy, are the last true Templar. This is why you must prepare. This is why you must train. Because, if you fail, the entire world may be lost.”

Chapter Eight

I
carefully slid back into my bed in the dorm, all too aware of the light creeping up in the eastern sky. Another night without sleep. Not only that, but a night where the weight of the world was placed squarely on my shoulders. I wondered if I would ever get a good night’s sleep again.

Within minutes, the breakfast bell shattered the quiet of the morning and the young hunters all around me leapt out of bed.

Will appeared at my bedside. His eager expression quickly changed to concern. “Oh man, you don’t look so good. Are you OK?”

Was I OK? The leader of the last monster hunting society on Earth just told me the fate of the world depended on whether I could find a weapon that had been missing for over seven hundred years. Even better, there were no clues as to where it was or what it looked like. I was doing great. 

“Yeah,” I said, rolling my exhausted body out of bed. “Come on, I’ll tell you all about it at breakfast.”

As we walked out with the others to the breakfast area, pulling our cloaks tightly around us to ward off the freezing temperatures and softly falling snow, I spotted Eva standing to the side of the group. I remembered how uncool I had been to her the day before. With a deep breath, I walked over to her.

“Hey,” I said lamely.

“Hey yourself,” Eva said.

“Cold one today, huh?”

Eva looked at me. “Did you really just ask me about the weather?”

“Well, it’s better than talking about what a jerk I was to you yesterday. Better than apologizing. And way better than asking you to forgive me.”

“Wait,” Eva said. “I missed that first part. Can you say it again?”

“You mean the part about what a jerk I was? Or about the weather?”

Eva didn’t crack a smile. If anything, she looked angrier.

“Look, I am really sorry. You’ve been nothing but cool to me and I…I…”

“Was a total jerk?” Eva added helpfully.

“I think we already established that,” I said. “I haven’t adjusted well to being here. It’s my fault. I just wasn’t ready for, you know, all this.”

I noticed her shoulders relax a little, which I took as a good sign. Or as a sign she was about to punch me. I couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve been talking to Aquinas. I gave her my oath that I would stay here until I was at least a first degree hunter.”

This got Eva’s attention. “Really?”

“Really,” I said. “You were right; I have a lot to learn by being here. So I’m going to give it my best. It’d be a lot easier if you weren’t so mad at me.”

Eva finally cracked a smile and gave me a nudge. I grinned.

“OK, you’re off the hook,” Eva said. “But forgiving people isn’t my strong suit, so don’t make me have to do it again.”

“You got it,” I said.

“Now get out of here,” Eva said. “I don’t want anyone seeing me talk to a newbie hunter, especially one who can’t seem to stay in his own bed at night.”

“Wait, so you knew about that?”

“I teach a class on tracking and camouflage. Maybe you should pay attention,” she said. “Now go get some breakfast and try not to fall asleep in your scrambled eggs.” She strolled toward the instructor table and I rejoined Will, who had picked up our plates of steaming food.

“What was that all about?” Will asked.

“Just giving a weather report,” I said. Will looked confused but I didn’t have the energy to explain. Besides, there were more important things I needed to tell him. “You’re not going to believe the night I had,” I said. I went through and told him everything. 

When I was done, Will looked at me strangely.

“What?” I asked.

“Dude, does this mean you’re like a knight or something?” he asked. I quickly realized he was just having fun with me. “Do I need to call you Sir Jack?”

“I think that would be best,” I said with a straight face. “Maybe bow down when I walk into the room. You know, just for appearances.”

“And you should have a more knightly name.”

“You’re right. How about Jack the Brave?”

“More like Sir Farts-a-lot,” said Will. I busted out laughing, unable to keep up the game. “Well, it fits you, doesn’t it?” he laughed.

The bell rang for classes to start. We carried our plates over to the Ratlings to save them the trouble of cleaning up after us. I noticed that one or two other hunters did the same this time. Bacho and T-Rex beamed from behind the tables when they saw this. Bacho whispered to us as we passed, “If this keeps up, we’ll ‘ave the hunters doin’ the dishes and the tidyin’ up too.”

Will and I jogged to our groups already assembled in the frozen training fields and began the day’s classes. I glanced up at the Templar Tree and saw Aquinas standing on the balcony watching over us all. I fought down the urge to wave and simply acknowledged her with a nod of the head. As soon as I did, she turned and shuffled back into the house.

The rest of the morning was fairly uneventful. I felt better having patched things up a bit with both Eva and Will, and I felt that, with the conversations with Aquinas, I was at least making progress toward understanding what my next steps might be. But as the morning wore on, the good feelings drifted away along with the morning mist on the practice field. The more I thought about it, the more worried I became that I was heading down a blind corner.

Finding the Jerusalem Stones, which were last seen over seven hundred years ago, and searched for by the Black Guard over those same centuries, seemed like a dead-end. I had a million more questions for Aquinas, especially about my father and how he had been captured.

As tired as I was, I couldn’t wait until the evening when my lesson about the Black Guard could continue. Little could I have known then that it would be over a week until the next time I saw Master Aquinas, and under circumstances that still make me shudder to this day.

It was a good thing that the classes were fast-paced and coupled with aggressive physical challenges. This hardly gave me time to brood on my questions; instead, it forced me to pay attention. Besides the classes, Xavier attached himself to my side and spent the morning peppering me with questions at every turn about the wolves in the forest and about Tiberon in particular.

“How did they coordinate the attack?”

“Were they the same size, or were there young wolves in the pack?”

“Did Tiberon understand when you spoke to him? Or was it just body language?”

“Did any of them have armor on?”

I stopped him there. “Armor? Why would a wolf have armor on?”

Xavier stabbed the air with his finger. “Exactly my point.”

Another hunter turned and hushed Xavier. The instructor paused and eyed us until we turned our attention to him. Under his breath, Xavier whispered, “As if this guy’s lesson on harpy attack patterns is more important than understanding the wolves right outside our gates.”

“Right, that’s it,” the instructor shouted at the two of us. “Two laps around the perimeter, the both of you.”

We got to our feet, stamping off the snow from our boots and started our run. My cloaking medallion that Hester had given me rubbed oddly against my skin so I pulled it out to adjust its position. As I did, Xavier caught a glimpse of it.

“Is that what I think it is?” Xavier asked.

“That’s kind of a tough question to answer,” I said. “It sort of depends on what you think it is.”

“A cloaking medallion. I’d heard that there was one in the Academy once, but that the hunter who owned it was out on assignment,” Xavier said.

“Her name was Hester. She died helping me escape Ren Lucre,” I said, fingering the intricate lines on the circle of metal. “I think this medallion has saved my life more than once.”

“I’m sorry,” Xavier said. We jogged along silently for a few moments but Xavier finally couldn’t contain himself. “They’re really rare, you know. Do you think I could see it?” he asked.