Legend of the Book Keeper (6 page)

With a wild, savage scream Jade lunged forward and raised the lamp. She froze, staggering into an abrupt halt. Standing, framed in the doorway—was Cody. All the color was drained from his terrified face and his eyes bulged as though in a deep trance.

Jade swiftly pulled him into her room. “What are you doing here! You scared me to death! You shouldn’t be out tonight; they just reported on the radio that Wesley is dead!”

For the first time Cody raised his eyes to meet hers and what she saw in them was pure fright. He nodded. “I know Jade, and it’s my fault he’s dead.”

Jade felt the color drain from her own face. “Cody, what are you talking about. What have you done?”

Cody shook his head as though fighting to break free from the merciless clasp of a dream. “I don’t know. Something giant, something—terrible . . . ” his voice trailed off.

“Cody, what is it! What happened tonight?” Jade demanded.

Cody’s arms shot out and grabbed Jade by the shoulders, giving her a rough shake. “Aren’t you listening?! There’s something out there! Something . . . huge. We can’t stay here. We’re not safe. It’s coming!”

Wesley’s Riddle

C
ody flushed as he looked around Jade’s room. Their friendship was close, but had mostly taken place in public places such as school and around town. Now, as on the other few occasions he had been into her room, he felt uncomfortable. He felt his cheeks begin to burn so he hastily turned to face the wall. He had quickly filled Jade in on the night’s events and now sat shamefully on the floor awaiting her response.

Jade was pacing back and forth. “I told you to forget that stupid door . . . why can’t you
ever
listen to reason?” she scolded sharply. “This is no game, a man is dead. Dead! This is clearly larger now than we ever suspected.” She flopped down onto her bed. “And you say the murderer saw you? It won’t take him long to figure out you’re here.” Jade sighed, “But we don’t have time to dwell on your inexplicably dim-witted stupidity. Come on, let’s have a look at this book of yours . . .”

She leaned down in eager anticipation as Cody removed the Book from his backpack. His hand wrapped around the smooth leather cover. “Ah!” he screamed and winced in pain. A sharp wave of pressure, like an electric current, shot up Cody’s fingers, ran along his arm, and burrowed into his brain. A deafening, high-pitched ringing sound erupted in his ear-drums. Clamping his eyes shut, he grabbed his ears, squeezing violen
tly, desperate to release the tension. The pressure on his brain clamped its vice-grip tighter and tighter and tighter. Cody yelled in agony. Then, just as soon as it had swept in, the pressure vanished, like a breeze flowing through one window and out the next.

Cody slowly dropped his arms and opened his eyes.
What just happened?
He brought his fingers up to his sweat-drenched forehead, searching for any evidence of the sudden attack on his brain. His investigation was interrupted by the impatient voice of his female companion, “Well, are you just going to sit there or do you want to hand me that book?”

Cody looked at the worn leather Book; he was tightly squeezing it in his right hand. He looked back to Jade, who appeared completely oblivious by his sudden attack.
I need to get some sleep; my brain is going rogue.

Without a word about his recent episode, he passed the mysterious Book toward Jade’s anxious hands. She was taken aback by its simplicity. She had expected something grand, perhaps a cover comprised of sculpted wooden designs or rimmed with flashy gold. But only the scarlet ‘A’ jumped out in contrast to the worn brown backing. Cody stared up at her intensely, “Whatever you do, don’t open it. You won’t be able to read it anyways. By Wesley’s reaction, I don’t think it’s safe,” he said, massaging his forehead again. Jade had no intention of challenging his theory, and set the Book down gently on her nightstand, quickly withdrawing her hands as though it were poison ivy.

“We need to hand this book over to the police immediately,” Jade commanded. Cody jumped up. “NO!” he yelled before he realized what he was doing. His face flushed again and he sat back down. “I mean, uh, no. Wesley’s last words were a strict order not to let
anyone
read the Book. Until we figure out what is so special about it, we have to keep it a secret. Promise Jade?”

Jade scrunched her face; she was not eager to break even the smallest of rules if there was any other way. Finally she sighed, “Promise.” She linked her small pinky finger with Cody’s, “Pinky shake, never break, or all my books are yours to take. . . . But, dude, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
So do I!
Cody thought gloomily.

He suddenly remembered the crumpled letter in his pocket. He pulled it out and smoothed out the creases. “This is the letter Wesley gave me just before he . . . well, just before I left. I’ve read it several times but can’t make any sense of it.”

“Well, maybe I can help figure it out,” Jade countered. Cody knew this was simply her polite way of reminding him that she was the brains of the friendship and he was not. Retrieving the note she read it earnestly,

Fifty-three, less four, until the rite does write, Iron décor, future war, hides passage out of sight, Deep contrite, prevents invite, now precious yore, Must leave Tonight.

Cody waited impatiently as Jade reread the note for the third time. He had every confidence that if anyone could make sense of this riddle, it would be Jade. He could see her deep green eyes twitching as they strained toward the paper. Finally, she lifted her head, a defeated look stealing her face, “It’s a load of gibberish. I think our dear friend Wesley lost his mind. I’m sorry, Cody, I don’t think this is going to be of any help to us.” Cody was not ready to admit defeat. He had spent an academic lifetime not understanding. He hauntingly recalled Wesley’s saddened eyes moments before his death.
No, Wesley was not a mad man.

The clues on the note kept turning over and over in Cody’s head. No matter how many times he thought about it, each time made less and less sense. It was like staring at the face of a longtime acquaintance and being completely unable to remember his name.

The one word that kept jumping out and frightening him was the last one:
Tonight
. The only thing Cody
had
concluded was that Wesley did not make it the only capitalized word by accident. Wesley clearly wanted them to leave immediately.
Then leave a simpler message next time!
Cody thought angrily. He attempted to break it down into bite-sized chunks. The first part was a pretty simple math equation, even for him, equaling a sum of forty-nine. The second part would be impossible to decipher until they determined what or who “the rite” was referring to, and what it was writing.

The second line, however, was one that troubled Cody the most. He did not like the sound of a “future war.” He decided that the end of the sentence
most likely referred to a hidden passageway.
Was this where Wesley had wanted them to go? Were they supposed to uncover the path? But where was it? And where did it lead?

“Cody?” The voice was Jade’s. Cody lifted his head and looked into her weary green eyes, “Any ideas?” Cody felt his shoulders sink, “No, and I have the sickening feeling that we are quickly running out of time. . . .” In frustration he released the letter, allowing it to flutter to the floor, “So, what do you think we should do? We obviously can’t go anywhere until we know
where
we’re going, and Wesley seems absolutely adamant that we don’t delay.”

Sheriff Messiner’s description of Wesley’s death added undeniable weight to the urgency, Jade thought as she nodded with grim determination. “I know. That’s why we have to go back.”

Cody rubbed his eyes, startled, “Go back where?” The look in Jade’s eyes made it clear that her decision had been made, there would be no discussion.

“We’re going back to Wesley’s.”

The chilly night breeze had forced people into their homes, leaving the barren streets in desolate stillness. The families had worriedly tucked their children into sleep before fretfully locking all the doors and windows. All of them were oblivious of the two sharp red eyes gazing at them from the shadows, stalking their every movement. The foreboding figure felt the dense fear rising from the homes and settling over the town like an ominous fog.
Another draft of night air blew between the houses.

The sound of sniffing fluttered out from the shadows, barely noticeable over the sound of the gusting wind. The red eyes squinted, the scent in the air was familiar. It was the same odor that had conveniently lingered in the doorway of that old fool, Wesley. Unnoticed by anyone, the red eyes noiselessly disappeared into the night.

The Ruby Pocket Watch

P
eering across the road, a dark figure stood staring at a small, plain house. Gliding over the road with serpentine swiftness, the figure entered the tiny home. A strong, new scent billowed from the nearby couch. Alcohol. Regaining the initial odor, the dark figure was guided to a small bedroom. The door flew off its hinges as the figure burst into the room. Its dense, probing eyes scanned the scene for its prey—but the room was empty. Sniffing the air again, it turned and left the building. The scent was fresh. It was not far behind.

Staring out across the road from the alleyway, Wesley’s mansion looked just as it had earlier that night. The only glaring exceptions were the long yellow ribbons blocking the house off from the public, the aftermath of Sheriff Messiner’s investigations. The unfamiliar neon streamers looked awkward against the backdrop of the ancient dwelling. Scanning left and right Jade confirmed that the coast was clear. Motioning behind her to where Cody was crunched
down low against the wall, she signaled him to follow.

It had taken a lot of guts for Jade to go against her nature and decide to return to the mansion. She gazed back at her friend as they stealthily crept across the road toward the house. His face was pale with fright.
Who can blame him?
thought Jade tenderly. In truth, she felt
inside
just as scared as he looked
outside
. But she also knew that he was counting on her to be courageous, and that to continue on this mission, she would need to suppress her fear. The undecipherable letter had bothered her tremendously, more than Cody would ever know. Up until that point, her practical side had taken control and she was convinced that there was a reasonable explanation behind everything. But now her confidence was rattled. Being unable to solve the riddle had been a harsh blow to her academic pride, and the mention of “new war” had left her nauseated.