Legend of the Book Keeper (27 page)

Trust no one.

Things are not as they appear.

Murder is in the air.

Cody stared intensely at the paper, rereading it several more times. He flipped the paper over and choked. The note had been signed by a single word: CROSS.

Cody’s arms were towering full of woven rock-clothing, undistinguishable snack foods, and a flute-like instrument sculpted entirely out of dark violet gemstone. Jade had succeeded in living up to her reputation. “The people were all so nice, I could have spent all day there! Maybe Atlantis isn’t so bad after all!” Jade chatted excitedly as they walked back toward the palace. Her excitement had melted Cody’s resolve to show her the note. He didn’t want to worry her.
I’ll show her at a better time
.

The streets emptied as dusk set in. Or at least Cody thought it was dusk, as the weather never changed in Under-Earth. As usual, the air was damp and cool. As they neared the palace, Cody stared at the large egg structure: The Sanctuary of the Orb. The excitement of being the chosen Book Keeper was evaporating as the time for his official training neared.
What if the Book chose incorrectly? What if I’m not good enough and let the city down?
These thoughts weighed heavily on his mind as they reached the palace.

“Well, Cody, I guess this is where we part ways. I’m meeting Sally in her room tonight to talk strategy about the trial tomorrow. Good luck with your training. Try not to get yourself blown up or something.”
Thanks for the confidence booster, Jade,
Cody thought grimly.

Poe had explained the shortest way to the Sanctuary was through the palace. Cody quickly navigated his way through the ancient castle’s long, winding corridors. Coming to the end of a narrow hallway, he found a door—it was ajar. Reaching to open it, Cody halted. There were hurried whispers from the other side.

“You have my guarantee for the murder. I don’t make mistakes,” came the first voice smoothly. It was a familiar voice, but Cody couldn’t conne
ct it with a face.

“You’re an ice cold man,” replied a second, gruffer voice. “That look in your eyes—I’ve seen it in men before; and every time the night ends with blood-stained hands. Are you sure this is the path you want to take?” Cody held his breath.

“I’m positive,” replied the first man emotionlessly. Cody took a step slowly back. The sound of his shoes on the stone floor echoed down the hallway. The whispers stopped. Cody was trapped. He looked behind, but the hall was too long to escape. The door before him swung open, and through the archway stepped Prince Kantan. Cody’s eyes were immediately drawn to the serrated dagger resting in the prince’s steady hand.

Kantan’s cool, calculating eyes were burning a hole into Cody’s forehead. A second man stepped out from behind him; he was a large man with a grayish beard, thick sideburns and a stone face. He was wearing full body chainmail and a heavy broadsword hung by his side. He too was staring intently at Cody.

“I was just trying to find the High Priest Lamgorious Stalkton at the Monastery. Sorry. . . . Could you tell me which way to go?” Cody blurted out nervously.

Kantan’s expression remained frozen. “Just through this door. I’m sure he is anticipating your arrival.” He motioned to the man behind him. “Allow me to introduce General Gongore Levenworth, captain of the Inner-City guard and head of city defense.” Cody gave a slight nod to the man, but the man merely stared blankly back.

“Um, well a pleasure to meet you. I will just be going now. Bye.” Cody put his head down and walked to the door only to find it blocked by the large general who seemed in no hurry to move. Cody awkwardly pushed his body against the wall and squeezed past the man. Face beet-red, Cody hurried down the hall.

“Oh, and Cody,” Cody stopped, turning back to face Kantan, who was still peering suspiciously at him. “I can trust that you will keep your ears to yourself, can I not?” Cody felt a knot twisting in his stomach. “Yes, Sir, of course.”

As he scurried away, he felt the eyes of the two men pierce his back like a knife. Finally, turning the corner of the lengthy corridor, he flung his body to the wall and slid down into a squat; his breath was hoarse and erratic. His hand unconsciously slipped into his pocket, fingering the warning note from the marketplace. His head was spinning, but he was certain of one thing. The brief encounter had made one fact unmistakably clear.
Before the sun sets tonight . . . somebody is going to die.

The Low Priest

T
he lights of the city shrunk to the size of a thousand fireflies as Cody ascended the base of the Sanctuary. A wooden pulley system constructed of worn timber and frayed rope worked as a primitive elevator guiding the small square platform along the outside wall of the building. Cody held his breath as the lift swayed gently left and right; Cody did not have an intimate relationship with heights and now he remembered why.

With a jerk the lift stopped, sending Cody stumbling against the railing; he had reached the top. The metallic sphere of the Sanctuary overhead cast a dark shadow over him. He quickly jumped off onto a large balcony, anxious to get indoors and put some distance between him and the antique elevator. At the other end of the balcony were two rustic wooden doors. Between his position and the doors, standing tall in the middle of the balcony, was a large steel sculpture of a man. The steel man was dressed in a robe and kneeling, head downcast and arms raised high. In his hands was a sphere resembling a globe. Cody had arrived at the Monastery of the Brotherhood: Refuge to the Brotherhood of Light—holy protectors of the Orb.

The sound of the doors opening drew his attention away from the statue. A young man wearing a long black robe emerged from the open doors. His hood was down revealing him to be a boy around Cody’s age with short black h
air and a mischievous face. Reaching Cody, the boy gave a slight bow, “So, you are Cody, the one Prince Kantan informed us of?” he asked in a monotone voice balancing between indifference and irritation. Cody nodded. The young man sighed. “Well, you are late. What a splendid beginning for the new savior of Atlantis to start his training. Master Stalkton is inside. Waiting.” Without allowing time for Cody’s reply, the boy turned and disappeared through the doors from which he came. Cody’s stomach tightened:
Strike one
.

Cody quickly followed after the boy’s fading footsteps. The room where he now stood was breathtaking. A dome ceiling stretched ten stories high. The assembly hall itself was circular with ten balconies spiraling around the elegantly adorned walls, one for each story. The mosaic floor was decorated with thousands of tiny, colorful stones that fashioned a beautiful swirling design. Inside, several robed men held books, although none appeared to be reading. Instead, every eye focused on Cody. The expressions on their faces were not ones of welcome.

Following the boy, Cody passed through another door which led him into a second circular chamber, although much smaller than the previous. The room was completely empty. Nothing hung from the walls, and even the floor consisted of simple gray stone. There were no windows in the dark room. Only a single lit torch provided its meager lighting. The lone object in the empty room was a cushion lying in the floor’s center, and on that cushion, was a man.

The man had his back to Cody, his thick snow-white hair rested against his neck. He was muttering softly to himself as though engaged in an urgent conversation. “Sit,” the man murmured, keeping his back to Cody. Cody looked to the young boy, who rolled his eyes, and motioned with his head for Cody to obey. The stone floor was cold against Cody’s legs as he folded them on the ground. He hesitated, waiting for the white-haired man to address him again, but the man had returned to his incoherent muttering.

Cody cleared his throat, “Um, Sir,” he began, “I have been sent by Prince Kantan and Lady Cia to be trained in the power of the Orb. I am looking for the High Priest Lamgorious Stalkton,” Cody finished softy.

No immediate answer came from the man. Slowly his muttering ceased. “Then you foolishly have come looking for the wrong thing,” replied the man finally, his voice smooth like the gentle rush of a river.

“Excuse me?” asked Cody confused.

The elder man remained still as he answered, “You come in search of a Lamgorious Stalkton, a meek, humble servant to the Orb. Not worthy of any seeking, except I guess for those questing for meek, humble servants.” The man paused and inhaled a wheezy breath before continuing, “You also come at the command of others to be trained, a puppet in the war effort of the nobility.”

Cody threw up his arms in frustration. “Well, then, why
should
I have come? And who are you anyways?” he asked bitterly.

The soft sound of chuckling came from the man’s hidden face. As the man slowly turned to face him, Cody stumbled back, startled by what he saw—the man sitting before him was an albino. His pale skin mirrored his pure white hair. His face was smooth and unwrinkled, and pressed tightly against his pointy bones.

“I am he whom you seek; the Low Priest, Lamgorious Stalkton. And the only reason one should enter this Monastery is to unlock the wonders of the universe.” The albino paused, sighing, “Although you are a special case. Very special, indeed.” A grunt came from the boy standing in the doorway.

“Oh, that is enough Xerx; leave us. Return to your studies.” With another snort, the boy stomped out of the room, closing the door with a bang. An uncomfortable moment ensued.

Cody squirmed on the rough ground. “Sir, did I do something wrong?” he asked hesitantly.

Stalkton unexpectedly smiled. “Son, you have done a great
many
things wrong! As have we all. But don’t you worry about Xerx. He’ll warm up to you.” Stalkton was interrupted by the sound of an angry shout followed by a loud crashing noise outside the door. The priest grinned. “Or at least stop brainstorming ways to murder you in your sleep! You see, young Xerxus has been my pupil for many years now. He is, how shall I put this . . . less than enthused about me taking on another pupil. To be quite frank, he loathes your very existence. I would suggest that for now, you lock your bedroom door before you sleep.”

Cody gulped. “Great. Just great. I’ve been here only sixty seconds and I’ve already made an enemy. I’m not off to a great start, am I?”

“Oh, no, not at all. Absolutely dreadful, actually.” The man took a sip from the wooden cup in his hands, and shook like a wet dog as the liquid ran down his throat. “But, if it’s any consolation,” the man continued, “things aren’t as bad as they will be soon. At least for now only one boy hates you and not legions of people petitioning for your brutal death,” the man concluded matter-of-factly.

“What! Why would anyone want to kill me? What have I done wrong? I don’t want people to hate me!” Cody asked desperately.

The pale-skinned man chuckled. “Oh,
want
really has nothing to do with it. You see, as the Book Keeper, you have become powerful, and power and hatred go together as inevitably as lava-shakes and crisp earthworm
de-fossilized
cucumber sandwiches.”

Cody had no clue whether this was a positive or negative example, but was anxious to change the subject.

“Sir, just a moment ago you referred to yourself as the
Low
Priest; did you not mean
High
priest?” Cody asked.

The pale man brought his boney finger up to his left nostril as he answered, “No. Well, yes. You see, I am high only to the extent of my lowness.” Having depleted the mine, the old man sought new fortune in his right nostril. “You will soon learn in your training that to be low is to be high, and to be high is simply another reminder of why we must be low. I actually knew a lad once whose birth name
was
Low. But then he died . . .” The man’s voice trailed off.