Curse of the Spider King (41 page)

“The other Sentinel told me a little,” she replied. “I suspect you'll know more about them after our flight than I know right now.”

“Can't you tell me something?”

“Well, Kat Simonson is the young lady coming from California. Her plane is due any minute now. I know she is one of the Berylinian Elves, the only daughter of Beleg and Kendie Hiddenblade.”

“Berylinian Elves?”

“Yes . . . you'll know them by the bluish cast of their skin.”

“Blue? Really?”

She nodded. “But be careful not to offend her with your thoughts. She reads minds.”

“Oh.” Tommy made a mental note of that. “Okay, who else?”

“Jett Green is a football star from North Carolina.”

“Football star . . . great,” said Tommy.

“Do I detect a lack of enthusiasm?”

“I like football, but jocks can get kind of an attitude.”

“Well, I hope not. We are counting on Jett for big things. He is a Lyrian Elf . . . dark skin, violet eyes, like Charlie. But unlike Charlie, Jett is an Elven Lord. His gifting is twofold: unimaginable physical strength and rapid healing. His Sentinel seems to believe he is a noble lad . . . I hope he's right.”

“I guess I won't challenge him to arm wrestling,” said Tommy.

“That's a wise decision.” Mrs. Galdarro wore a hint of a smile and was lost in thought for a moment. “Two more: Jimmy Gresham and the newly discovered Kiri Lee Yuen wait in Scotland. But we are most worried about the two who remain here in America: Autumn and Johnny Briarman.”

“Brother and sister?” Tommy thought for a second. “But I thought each one of us—”

“You're quite right. They were raised as brother and sister, but they are not really. I don't know if their Sentinel has told them this yet. Oh, I do wish we'd get news from them.”

When the news finally came, it was not good. Five Sentinels from the Northeast arrived at Hangar A17. None of them had heard anything from Annelle Brookeheart. Kat Simonson had arrived on schedule, as had Jett Green. But Johnny and Autumn were missing, and the private plane bound for Scotland was scheduled to leave in less than an hour. They couldn't risk delaying the flight lest someone at the airport get suspicious.

Tommy wondered what was taking Mrs. Galdarro so long. She'd been debriefing Kat, Jett, and their Sentinels for more than an hour. At last, the business office door opened. Mrs. Galdarro strode wearily across the hangar. Behind her were several adults and two teens.

“Tommy Bowman of Seabrook, Maryland,” she began. “I'd like to introduce you to North Carolina's own Jett Green.”

The first thing Tommy noticed was Jett's eyes.
Just like Mr.
Charlie,
he thought. Jett wore a long-sleeved cotton T-shirt and jeans.
He doesn't look that strong,
Tommy thought. As he reached out to shake Jett's hand, he thought he heard a giggle from the girl.

“Hey, Jett,” said Tommy. “Nice to meet y—ya-a-a-a!”

“Mannn,” said Jett, releasing the handshake. “I am SO sorry about that. It's, well, . . . I'm stronger now.”

Tommy rubbed his throbbing right hand. “Glad you're on our side,” he said.

“I warned you,” said Mrs. Galdarro. “And Tommy, this is Kat Simonson from Los Angeles.”

Tommy looked at Kat for the first time. She wasn't blue like a crayon, but looking at her was like looking through the blue lens of 3-D glasses, only it was just her skin. Tommy searched for something to say as he held out his hand, but what he came up with was nowhere near what he'd meant to say. “You're . . . you're blue,” he said. “Cool.”

Kat held out her hand and shook Tommy's fingertips for the briefest of moments. A bit of crimson mingled with the blue on her cheeks. “You meant that.” It wasn't a question.

“Yeah,” said Tommy. Then he mumbled, “How was your flight?”

“I was reading through most of it,” she said.

“Well,” said Mrs. Galdarro. “I've got to discuss some things with the other Sentinels, so I'll give you three some time to get to know each other.”

The three teens stood in a loose triangle and stared at one another. Sentinels and Dreadnaughts moved about them like worker bees in a hive. And still they stood . . . awkward and silent until Tommy spoke up. “They have free sodas over there.”

“Great,” Jett and Kat said simultaneously.

After they each got a soda, Tommy sat on a folding chair and held up his drink. “This is my fifth one,” he said, making his eyes bulge. “But don't worry. The caffeine has no effect on me whatsoever.”

Kat snickered and snorted. “Ah! My soda went up my nose!”

Jett couldn't hold it in anymore. He misted the floor to his right with a mouthful of soda.

To all, it seemed like a good start.

Hours later, the entire team cruised at 33,000 feet over the Atlantic Ocean. The private jet was owned by one of the Sentinels charged with establishing the Elves's monetary base on Earth. No one had been certain how long it would be until the Sentinels found the seven, if at all—the Elves knew that the majority of the Sentinels would need to focus their attention on searching for the lords, not making money. Thus a few of the Sentinels? did nothing but accumulate wealth through gold trade, the only real form of money used in Allyra. In this they served the greater good, giving the rest of their team the resources necessary to continue their quest without fear of monetary limitations.

Kat, Jett, and many of the other Elves were sound asleep. Tommy had only flown once before, but he'd never flown over the ocean. But that wasn't why he was awake. No, the sixth bright-yellow soda might have had a little more to do with his alertness. He munched a handful of peanuts and looked around the narrow cabin. He wondered what had happened to the other two Elven Lords, Autumn and Johnny, and their Sentinel. He knew Mrs. Galdarro was afraid that the Drefids had gotten to them first.

What if they did?
Tommy wondered anxiously.
What if only five of
the seven young lords return to Allyra? Would the Spider King win?

Tommy felt something strange, a feather's touch, as if someone was staring. He scanned to the right—two of the Sentinels he hadn't met personally peered over the headrests of the seats about eight rows ahead. They quickly looked away and slumped down into their seats. Tommy didn't like that at all. He'd read about those Wisp-things, the shape-shifting mist creatures. He wondered,
What if some had disguised
themselves as Sentinels? . . .
Tommy stayed awake the rest of the trans-Atlantic flight. And it wasn't because of the soda.

39

When Darkness Falls

WET AND exhausted, Johnny and Autumn returned from the cave and found their father waiting on the steps of the front porch for them.

“This can't be good,” Johnny whispered to Autumn as they neared the barn. The cool October night sent shivers down their arms and legs. The two siblings were reluctant to move out of the shadows, sure they were about to be punished for coming home so late after dark.

“We might as well face it head-on and get it over with,” Autumn said. She took a deep breath and tucked the book under her arm. They crossed the yard and moved into the porch light, then up the steps.

“Hey, Dad,” Johnny offered up with a smile. “How's it going?”

Mr. Briarman was not enthusiastic. Johnny and Autumn expected the worst.
Grounded. But for how long?

“Have a seat, kids,” Mr. Briarman said.

Johnny and Autumn gulped and walked over to the porch swing. The old wood creaked as they sat down.

“I'm not sure how to put this, but . . .”

Autumn noticed tears in his eyes.
What was wrong?

“. . . Uncle George has passed away.”

Mom's brother.
The news was not at all what the kids expected, but it wasn't too much of a shock, either. Uncle George had been sick for more than a year, battling cancer. The kids loved their mother's jovial older brother and felt terrible. Every visit from Uncle George came with presents and really cool stories. But more than that, Autumn and Johnny felt for their mother. For, like the two of them, their mother and Uncle George had always been best friends.

“Your mother and I are leaving in the morning for Denver.”

“Us, too, right?” Autumn asked, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“No, sweetie. I'm afraid you have to stay here.”

“We what?” replied Johnny.

“Dad, we have to come!”

“I'm sorry, children. But you have to stay here. We just don't have enough money to buy—”

“I'm coming with you,” Autumn declared, her lips pursing together and her brow furrowed.

“Now, Autumn—”

“He would want me at the funeral,” she added.

“Autumn, we all know he would. But there's just no way we can afford to buy you a ticket on the flight.”

“Then we'll drive.”

“Then we'd all miss the funeral, Autumn,” Johnny said, wiping away his own tears. “Be real.”

“You're going to stay here with Aunt Norma,” said Mr. Briarman firmly.

“Aunt Norma?” Autumn whined. “But she's so old!”

“She's my sister,” Mr. Briarman contested, put off only slightly by the inference.

“She's the same age as Uncle George
is
,” Johnny told her. Then realizing his mistake he quietly added, “was.”

“In either case, Aunt Norma is going to take care of you while we're gone. We'll be back in four days. You can handle that.”

Johnny and Autumn both looked down at the wood planking on the floor and listened to the bugs crash into the porch light above their heads. “I still think I'm supposed to come with you,” Autumn said.

Mr. Briarman pushed her over a little to make a place for himself on the swing. The wooden seat protested. The chains stretched. “I know, sweetheart,” he said, hoisting Autumn up into his lap.

She suddenly started crying as if a dam had broken in her heart.

“There, there . . .”

She buried her face in his neck and wept, betraying every air of strength she normally carried. Johnny sat hunched over until he felt his dad's arm wrap around his shoulders and give him a squeeze.

When Autumn's tears eventually subsided, Mr. Briarman held her back and looked between the two of them. “Now, you know who really needs your comfort and your prayers right now?”

“Mom?” said Autumn.

“Right. Inside, both of you. She's upstairs, and I'm sure she'd be very grateful if you were by her side.”

Johnny and Autumn woke to find their parents long gone and Aunt Norma cooking bacon and eggs.

At least she is a good cook,
Autumn thought.

In spite of Aunt Norma's promptings the kids didn't speak much at the breakfast table.

That night, they ate dinner in near silence and decided to watch a made-for-TV movie to get their minds off Uncle George's passing. But the production of the film was poor, and Johnny was annoyed with all the commercials, wishing they had just watched a DVD instead.