The House of Grey- Volume 4 (23 page)

Monson answered defensively. “About what
?"
Grayson
’
s tone
had changed
,
a
nd Monson was not sure that he liked it.

“About a legend of a being
.
A
being of races and people
.
A
b
eing created of
Seven
Bloods, sent
to save the worlds
.
Grayson wheeled over to his table and clear
ed
a space
.
“
B
asically
,
M
onson,
I
’
m going to tell you a story
…
a story about you
.
”

Chapter 4
3 - HUMANE

Monson exerted all his willpower to remain calm
.
“Grayson, who are you and what happen
ed
to your accent?”

Grayson answered slyly
.
“That’s right
,
I haven’t
properly
introduced myself
,
have I? My name is Grayson G. Garret
t
,
and
I am a
n
Apprentice
for
H.U.M.
A.N.E, one of the few organizations on this great big old blue world of ours that knows about magic and has the
ability to use it. M
y code name is Ender
, and it’s nice to meet you in my official capacity as liaison.
”

Monson cocked an eyebrow.
“
Huh?”

“I’m greeting you.”

“Why?”

“It’s proper.”

“If you say so,
”
said
Monson
,
confused
.
“What’s an Ender?”

The smile vanished from Grayson’s face
.
“You’re kidding me
,
right?”

“No…
.
”

Grayson gripped the wheels of his chair
,
pivoting it towards one of the many bookshelves. Scanning the contents of the shelf, he settled on a small paperback, pulled
it
out with a jerk
, and
tossed it to Monson.

“So
that
we don’t have any confusion in the future.”

Monson surveyed the title
.
“
Ender’s Game
?”

Grayson grinned
.
“Just think of me as Ender.”

Monson tucked the book in his
back
pocket
.
“
Right…
but back to the topic at hand. You
’
re
part of some secret organization
?
”

“Correct.”

“A secret organization that uses
‘
magic.
’
I didn’t mishear?
”

“Also correct.”

“And you are here at Coren because you think I’m some sort of chosen one?
”

“Yes, that is all correct.”

“So why were you such a tool when I first met you.”

“Excellent question. Simple really. I was trying to maintain my distance to observe.”

“But you don’t think that is necessary anymore.”

“Again correct.” 

“And
why
do you
think
I’m this chosen one
?”

“Now
that
is an excellent question
.
” Grayson wheeled over to his counter
,
maneuvering to grab a set of teacups. Next, he touched a black dispenser, which Monson could only assume was hot water, and place
d
some tea bags in the cups.
He filled t
he cups with steaming liquid
and
moved back towards Monson.

“To answer you, the organization isn’t totally positive you really are our
C
hosen
O
ne,
because
the ancient texts aren’t exactly clear on the issue. But we
do
think that you
’
re the link to the Chosen
O
ne and the world of the Others that we’ve been looking for
.
I
f that is the case
, then
there is much work to be done.”

Monson
’
s
lip curled skeptically
.
“
S
o I’m
not
the
C
hosen
O
ne
,
then?”

“
Oh, y
ou
very well
could be
.
”

“I could be?”
Monson sighed
.
“
OK
, what’s this
‘
world
’
business? You said that this
‘
Being of
Seven
Bloods
’
is supposed to save
‘
the
world.
’
What does that mean?”

Grayson affixed a supercilious grin to
his
face.

Monson
replied with a
cynical
glare.
“You don’t know that either?”

Grayson answered
,
clearly annoyed
.
“The Chosen
O
ne is supposed to save
worlds
,
not world. That’s something else we aren’t exactly clear on. The text clearly says
‘
worlds
,
’
but we aren’t sure if that was
intended
metaphorically or not
.
”

“That’s comforting
.
” Monson pressed his lips together in irritation. “
OK
, instead of me just asking questions blindly, why don’t you tell
me
what you
do
know?”

“We know this,” Grayson push
ed
a sketchpad across the table. He nodded towards it
,
indicating that Monson should open the book
.

“It
’
s true that I was also
at the bridge that day
, but being
‘
sensitive,
’
everything I saw was much different than what got reported in the papers.”

The p
ad already open, Monson scrutinized a pencil
-
drawing depiction of
a
long stretch of bridged roadway. The
drawing
’s projection provided a striking amount of detail and gave the impression to
the
viewer
of
gazing into
the
horizon
.
Monson placed the book back on the table to examine it
more
close
ly
.

The picture illustrated a horrific scene.
Dozens of
bodies of men and women
lay
scattered along the roadside in
the
various sta
ges
of death.
Demonic w
inged apparitions, suspended in midair, prodded the dead or dying with wicked poleax
-
like weapons that were
borderline
fantastical in their construction. In the very center of the page, but off in the
distance,
a single individual stood with wiggled lines radiating from him.
T
he drawing was absolutely
fascinating
but hardly helpful
.
Monson ran a finger touching the single individual lightly. 

“This is wonderful
,
Grayson but—
”

“I know,” interjected Grayson respectfully. “That’s not what you really needed to see. It’s for background purposes
;
turn the page.”

Monson did so
,
squinting his eyes
at a different
viewpoint. This picture
provided
a sideways
panorama
of a massive floating bridge with odd lines streaming from the exact center of the picture
.
The lines flowed from
the
center
,
ripping through tiny but distinct cars, railings and people. Close to the center of the picture
and the origin of
the lines, Monson noticed chu
n
ks of steel and cement
hanging in midair
.

He
flipped the page again. Yet another
scene
of the bridge’s destruction
,
but farther along in the process; much larger pieces and objects fell from the bridge as the lines, which
Monson guessed were
some sort of unearthly energy flow, lengthened
,
widened and sprawled
,
engulfing everything in its power. 

Monson turned
to
the
final
page
of the sketchpad
.  The last drawing showed a
landscape
version of a once
-
might
y
structure. All appeared
serene
except for a single droplet, a small speck seen in the
distance
, dropping
into
the water below. The speck, despite its
lack of
size
,
was clearly the focus of this final panel. Monson shifted his eyes
back to
Grayson.

“What is this?”

“A clearer view of the events of Baroty Bridge,” answered Grayson quietly
.
“Whatever happened on that bridge that day was not something scientific in nature. Well
,
not scientific in the way humans understand it.”

Monson
slid
the book back to Grayson
.
“Why do you say that?”

Grayson opened the book and pointed to the first picture
.
“
D
o you see these lines
,
the ones that are ripping up the bridge?”

Monson nodded.

“Now think back
,
have you ever heard of anything that describes this type of phenomenon to the public?”

“No, definitely not.
But then again advanced unidentifiable scientific phe-nom
-
e-non doesn’t show up much on YouTube
.”

Grayson scowled.

Monson sat back in his chair
mulling it over. He considered Grayson’s question.
Why indeed
was he just now hearing about these destructive lines
? There
had been
no reports about a weird energy source
;
actually
,
all the experts
agreed
that
the
bridge blew from underneath
and
that the destruction to the
underlying
foundation was the reason for
its
collapse.
But where did they come up with that conclusion
?
Seemed odd in the light of what Grayson was sharing with him.
Monson snapped his fingers a
s
the image of Casey popped into his head.

“Flash fist.”

Grayson
leaned
forward as
if
to hear him better
.
“What was that
,
Grey?”

“It was just like Casey’s flash fist. I am, or
was
,
the only one
who
could see it. It was the same with the bridge. The
rest of the
people couldn’t see the cha
k
ra. All that stuff had to have been cha
k
ra.”

“Cha
k
ra, as in the Seven
P
athways of
t
he Chakra?”

Monson waved away the question
.
“I have no idea what that is. I’m talking about chakra
,
as in
martial arts.
Casey uses
chakra
to fight. He expels energy from his body and then collects it in a move that he calls the
f
lash
f
ist.”

“Whoa
…
” Grayson rubbed at his chin
.
“
W
icked.”

“I know
,
right
,
” Monson
agreed.
“
B
ut back to the bridge thing. So you
’
re
saying
the bridge was destroy
ed
by some sort of magic?”

“Yes, it had to have been
Kei
manipulation
,
though that
alone
seems impossible.
”

Monson
frowned
in confusion
,
his head hanging low and wobbling
back and forth
.

Grayson
surveyed
him affectionately. “I
’
ll explain.
 
Magic is called
Kei
,
at least that’s what it sounded like when
G
randfather told us.
There are two kinds of m
agic usage, or the manipulation of
Kei
: AOI
and
Scripting.”