The Intrepid Three, page 7
As if the words controlled her, Arabella jumped up. Heeding some of her mother’s advice, but not all of it, she began to run. She flew through the café doors and out into the chilly night. The drop in temperature suggested that she had spent much more time in the restaurant than she thought. Sprinting again, Arabella felt renewed strength in her legs after giving them much-needed rest.
The Aurelian rounded a massive building and collided with a girl about her age standing on the sidewalk staring skyward. Arabella grabbed the other girl’s arm to try to stabilize herself, but both girls ended up sprawled on the hard pavement. They groaned from the impact and sat up slowly. The two painstakingly stood and dusted themselves off.
Now eye to eye, Arabella examined the girl across from her and saw that the accident almost completely tore the baggy left sleeve from the skinny girl’s uniform. She observed an odd marking under the tear. “I’m so sorry. I’m completely lost. Are you okay?”
The other girl seemed confused that Arabella was speaking to her and even looked around to see if she was addressing someone else. Not many spoke to each other on the streets of Euporia, especially people of different statuses.
Arabella continued, “Sorry I tore your sleeve. I must have grabbed it on the way down. If you want, my tailor can fix it for you. By the way, my name is Arabella.”
Finally, the other teenager spoke as she adjusted her sleeve. “It’s alright. This sleeve was already hanging on by a thread anyways. I can get it fixed. I’m Dez.”
Leaving the recently won battle, Hatred rumbled to the Switcher. Much like the Lumen, the Murk did not speak words but rather communicated with the sounds of a tempest. “Today’s battle was won. The Lumen retreated after I consumed Joy. They were weak, much weaker than last time. It is happening as you said, Great Destroyer.”
The Switcher communicated back with a thunderous roll, “Well done. You proved your worth. Hatred has always been my favorite servant. I am particularly grateful for those who commit acts to create your kind. Hatred is the purest form of evil and multiplies the fastest.”
“Overseer of Evil, I must report one more thing,” the powerful Murk stormed. “There was a girl on the outskirts of battle. It has been years since we have seen a human in Animus. We spotted her just before she disappeared through the boundary. We do not know which plane she entered.”
The Switcher cracked back, “Grab the other Hatred. We will find her.”
11
EUPORIA MONDAY 9:06 P.M.
Despite Arabella’s daunting situation, she maintained her Aurelian pleasantries. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dez. If it’s not too much of a bother, could you point me in the direction of Golden Ray Avenue? I’m completely lost, and nothing looks familiar.”
Dez did not want to push this new and interesting acquaintance away, especially since it was the second such encounter of the day. The weary introvert responded as empathetically as she could muster after a long day of work. “I’m sorry you can’t find your way. Euporia is an easy place to get lost, but I’ve never heard of Golden Ray Avenue. There’s not much golden about this place.”
Arabella nervously began to twist her hair. Suddenly, she had a bright idea. “Oh, maybe you could tell me where the National Financier’s Office is. My mom is the head of the agency,” she proudly stated.
“So, you mean she’s in Management?” the blue-collar Dez apprehensively asked. “I don’t think there’s a national financier for E-Corp, though. I doubt Mr. Rothchild would ever allow anyone else to manage his money.”
“What? What do you mean by Management? What is E-Corp? Who is Mr. Rothchild? Where are we?” Arabella was breathless.
Dez responded with a puzzled gaze. “I’ll start with your easiest question. We’re in Euporia.”
“Euporia? I’ve never even heard of Euporia. I’m from Aurelia,” Arabella said.
Arabella started to wonder if Maximillian was pulling one of his infamous pranks. This wouldn’t be the first time she was duped by her little brother. Maybe Dez was just part of the torturous joke. “Did Maximillian put you up to this? This is elaborate even for him.”
“I don’t know any Maximillians. In fact, I really don’t know many people by their names. I mainly know a few E-Corp identification numbers. And, believe me, I wish this was all a joke,” Dez said dryly.
Cold reality struck Arabella; she was once again in an unknown and possibly dangerous land. As her thoughts raced, her mind instinctively went to the picture of her parents in her dress pocket. Searching for any sense of security, Arabella pulled the crinkled photograph into the cool night. She held the intimate piece of home up to eye level. After a moment of transportation back to Aurelia, Arabella broke back into her perceived nightmare and lowered the picture.
The characteristically pale Dez became ghostly white. “Wh . . . What does that say?” she stuttered as her right hand clasped her left elbow. Dez insisted, “Show me what’s written on the back of that paper!”
“On the back of this?” Arabella questioned as she flipped the photograph over. For the first time, Arabella focused on the writing on the backside of her treasure. “I think it’s a poem.” She began to read the cursive handwriting.
“Three planes from one
Due to evil that was done
Animus holds Lumen and Murk . . .”
In unison, Dez joined the reading.
“Here Switcher comes and goes to lurk
One hero from each plane
To bring healing of all pain
Past, present, future altered with gifts. . .”
As Dez’s voice became louder, Arabella’s softened. The Aurelian slowly looked up at the Euporian quizzically. Dez was no longer looking in Arabella’s direction but instead reading the scribbled text down her bare left arm.
“Join together to mend rifts
Switcher will see defeat
Only then will restoration be complete.”
The girls stared at each other in stunned silence. Arabella, being less reserved, spoke first. “Why is that on your arm? Are you sure you don’t know my family? That’s who’s in this picture. And . . .”
Dez interrupted, “I found this poem on my work computer. It just happened to be there after the nightly reboot. Who’s your family again?” Dez asked, hoping to theorize about their inexplicable connection.
“I’m part of the Rey family. You know, Benjamina Rey. Maximillian Rey. And me, Arabella Rey.”
“I have no idea who you are talking about. I guess I should assume you scored Management on your PLACE exam. Have you heard anything about this poem being uploaded? Do you know what E-Corp plans to do with it?” Dez asked.
“I’m homeschooled and have never taken that test. Like I said, I just found this picture with the poem on the back in some family heirlooms today,” Arabella answered.
Dez inquired, “How did you get here again? You running into me seems like more than a coincidence.”
Feeling like an alien, Arabella struggled to explain how she arrived in front of Dez. “Well, I went to the park. I saw these . . . I’d guess you’d call them lights, and the next thing I knew, I was on what seemed like another planet. I saw some things I can’t explain. Ended up jumping into your world, and then I ran until our collision stopped me.”
Dez continued as she ushered Arabella to follow her. “Tell me more about your Aurelia and this world you can’t explain. I think I know someone who can help get you home and give us some answers. Follow me to The Core.”
Arabella didn’t know what kind of establishment was open at this hour, or what The Core was. It seemed like her only option was to go along with this soft-spoken girl. Aware of the risks of following a stranger to an unknown place, she heard her mother’s voice in her head. “You are always safest at home with me. Don’t wander off with anyone that I haven’t thoroughly vetted.” She knew it was too late to heed her mother’s pragmatic advice, so her pace did not slow as she asked, “Do you want to change out of your torn uniform first?”
Dez led Arabella down the dark street along the spiritless glass giants away from her scant apartment. “Don’t worry, I can get it fixed in The Core too. Anything is possible there. And the best part about being underground . . . no Management. They are too disgusted by the Forgotten and would never demean themselves by going in the tunnels.”
After walking about three blocks, Dez took a hard right down an alley toward a tunnel opening. The inconspicuous and dreary entrance was unmarked and grimy. By this hour, every Euporian was settled in their place, so the entryway was deserted but for the two kids.
Walking side by side, the two made their long descent down the tunnel’s slope to The Core.
“Lux, you must follow them. Do not let them out of your sight. You will be their indelible guide,” Author said. In front of Author was a modulating array of colors that changed to another vibrant hue with each movement. With understanding, Lux let off two quick flashes of brilliant white light before returning to its usual state of gentle waves of varying colors.
“You know the Euporians are too petrified to notice your presence, but make sure to conceal yourself until the right opportunity presents. By now, the girls will have found each other. There is still so much they must do, and they will undoubtedly need your protection. I need you to be my right-hand. Now go!” Author saw two more quick flashes of light as Lux passed through the atmosphere to Euporia.
12
IMMERXIA MONDAY 4:37 P.M.
Walter’s feet reluctantly carried him toward the Xitus Library as Stacey’s words, “It’s a date,” rang in his ears. For all the resistance that his mind created, there was a force that pressed him forward to answers. If not for all the odd occurrences of the day, Walter would never choose to set foot in the library again.
The teenager was lost in thought when Caroline Moore rolled out in front of him in her wheelchair from the Main Street Pharmacy. “I’m so sorry, sir!” she quickly apologized, not realizing it was one of her classmates. “Oh, it’s just you,” she quipped.
“Hey, Caroline,” Walter said. She waved his greeting away as she rolled slowly beside him. After about twenty steps, breaking the awkward silence, Walter asked, “Where are you heading?”
“Where I go every day after school. To hang out with my friends,” Caroline facetiously answered.
Walter gave her a sideways glance to try to gauge her seriousness. Not knowing how to read his female peer, he shared, “I’m heading to the library. Don’t ask. It’s a long story.”
Caroline relented, “Really? I’m heading to the library too.”
Walter stopped in front of Caroline. He briefly lost his train of thought as he scanned her black wheelchair covered from seat to handles in punk-rock band stickers. “Wait. Why are you going to the library?” He was sure he did not want anyone else present for his conversation with the mysterious Author.
“I was actually being a little serious about going to see my friends. The characters in books provide the best company. I go every day to hang out. I’m not really plugged into the technology culture. I prefer books to VEXs.” As the teens approached the steps of the large brick building, the slight girl turned away from Walter toward a stained glass ramp that he had never noticed before.
Walter’s curious mind buzzed with questions about Caroline’s daily routine, but he surprised even himself when he asked the simple but obvious question, “What’s it like?”
“What do you mean? Oh, you mean rolling in this awesome ride?” Caroline quipped.
As Walter felt embarrassed by his possibly off-putting question, Caroline continued, “Honestly, I’ve been in it for so long that it’s almost a part of me now. I’ve made this chair reflective of me. I saw you staring at all my stickers. Do you like any of these bands?”
Caroline’s normally hard exterior softened when realizing a peer was trying to connect with her. She hoped to alleviate any awkwardness by finding common ground through music.
“I actually don’t know any of those bands. I don’t really listen to much music, but I hear a lot of pop because of my younger siblings. It’s not really for me, though,” he stated, wishing he was more interesting.
Walter fumbled, “Uh, well. Maybe you could . . . I mean, do you have a favorite band?”
Caroline answered with enthusiasm, “Yeah. I’ll play you my favorite song ‘Star Stella’ by Grizzly Outlook when we get inside.” The girl eagerly retrieved a CommX9 from the storage pocket of her chair. Walter stared in astonishment as Caroline retrieved the latest and greatest piece of technology soon to hit Immerxia.
In a surprising moment of candor, Caroline admitted, “I know. I know. It’s not even out yet, but my parents work for CommX. They try to test out a lot of the products on me. It’s kind of a waste, though. I don’t really VEX.”
While Walter’s mouth hung open, Caroline continued, “I basically only use it to call my parents in case of an emergency and listen to my favorite bands.”
She began the ascent to the library before suddenly stopping to ask, “Hold on. Why are you going to the library? I’ve never seen you here before. I know it’s not for the social scene.” She chuckled.
Not wanting to answer any questions, only ask them, Walter instead dodged. “Have you ever met Author here before? Well, that’s the name I use.”
“Who’s Author?” Caroline asked, looking confused. The teenagers reached the entrance to the empty building and paused.
Walter stared at Caroline and wondered how to explain Author. “Well, it’s hard to describe Author. Kinda tall but not too tall. Lighter than me but darker than you. Medium build. Seems to know way too much about me. Actually, seems to know way too much about everything.”
“Oh, I think you mean the librarian that works here. I’ve never asked for a name. I agree, sure does seem to know a lot, though. Just last week, the librarian suggested I talk to my doctor about a new medication.”
Caroline stopped herself from sharing further. She had let her guard down in Walter’s friendly presence, but she felt she had shared too much again with the burgeoning friend. She continued with discretion, “Strangely enough, I had never discussed my health with the librarian. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d thought maybe the cataloger was a mind reader, though. Sometimes, a question comes to me while I’m reading, and usually, soon after, the librarian gives an answer to the question I never asked aloud. Every once in a while, I’ll go check to see if the answer was right. Sure enough, it’s always correct. If I didn’t know any better, it’s like this librarian wrote the books rather than archived them.”
“That’s crazy. Seemed to know a lot about me too. Also, something impossible happened to me today, and I think . . . maybe . . . possibly, Author was somehow behind it,” Walter hedged. He was not particularly familiar with this classmate, but he found himself caring more and more about what she thought of him.
Caroline wheeled to the heavy, revolving door. She pushed a small inlaid stained glass panel to start a slow and consistent rotation. Walter followed her into the dimly lit Xitus Library. In the short time between visits, he had forgotten the magical quality of the bygone property. In particular, the stained glass windows appeared more vibrant than before, as the sun was shining brighter.
Walter paused to study the depicted scenes. The eye-catching glass seemed almost life-like as did the characters portrayed. They were so realistic, Walter almost believed they could step out of their large gothic frames.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they? Not to weird you out, but I’ve always thought this one looks a little bit like you. Not that I think you’re beautiful or anything . . . I mean, you’re . . . no that’s not what I mean . . . I mean—” Caroline stopped as her cheeks became warm.
In his own embarrassment, Walter turned his gaze to the character in the image. She wasn’t wrong. The person rendered shared the same build, stature, and features as the teenage boy. For Walter, it was as if he was staring into a twenty-foot mirror. Yet, he could not identify the images of the three strangers standing alongside his likeness.
Walter’s eyes carried to the subsequent scenes. These depictions were much more fantastical. Floating land masses. Light and dark creatures. Fiery chaos. Before Walter could continue his survey, Caroline interrupted with a dust-induced sneeze.
“I just wheeled around the first floor, and I didn’t see the librarian. I’m not surprised we’re the only visitors here, but the librarian is always nearby. I’ve never had trouble finding your Author. Why don’t we check the second floor? I’ll take the ancient elevator on the left if you take the stairs on the right.”
The kids split in different directions. Walter hurried toward the stairwell, hoping to find Author first. He had a lot of questions and wanted to ask them out of earshot of Caroline. Walter reached the ornate oak door leading to the stairs and briefly noticed another inlaid stained glass panel. The image was of beautiful and illuminated rolling hills. In his rush, he did not take the time to appreciate the full splendor of the small colorful window.
The determined youth climbed the stairs toward the second floor. Unexpectedly, Walter noticed strings of light sway three steps above him. He figured the play of light was from one of the many windows in the library; even the stairwell was lined with enameled glass. Almost as suddenly as he noticed the irradiance, Walter climbed into a foreign but peculiarly familiar place. He thought it was eerily similar to the stained glass he passed in the staircase door. All Walter could see in front of him were miles of hills and valleys covered in luminescent alien flora.
“Nice to see you again, Walter. Welcome to Animus.” Walter was startled at the sound of Author’s voice behind him.
