Eighth Fire (2 page)

A moment after the group was seated; Jeremy,
Shana’s assistant, and a couple of other counselors came into the
office with everyone’s parents; all of whom looked bewildered.
Steve, Mark’s dad, went straight to Mrs. Shadowitz and asked,
“What’s going on?”

Mrs. Shadowitz said to everyone in the room,
“You parents can follow Elder Joseph Young and he will explain the
situation. Students will go one at a time into another office with
Monsieur Fontaine. I ask you to answer his questions as completely
as possible.”

Mark said, “Ma’am, are you going to tell us
what this is all about?”

Monsieur Fontaine spoke up, “This is an
investigation of a very serious criminal matter. You will be told
the particulars after you’re finished with the interrogation.”

“Interrogation!” Steve stepped toward Mark
and Mrs. Shadowitz stepped into his path. Steve said, “You make
this sound like a murder investigation or something.”

Elder Young raised his hand and said, “If you
parents would kindly follow me, I’ll explain the situation.”

Monsieur Fontaine said, “Mark Young, I’ll
speak with you first. Have a seat in this office.” He pointed to a
closed door.

The parents started following Joseph Young
and Mark walked into the office Monsieur Fontaine had indicated. A
small business style desk occupied most of the floor space and with
the floor to ceiling shelves on three walls there was barely enough
room for Mark to walk around the desk and sit in the only chair in
the room.

Monsieur Fontaine entered, pulled the door
almost closed and paused a dramatic second before pulling it
completely closed with a loud click. He turned, faced Mark and let
out a deep sigh.

Mark said, “Sir, what is this all about?”

Monsieur Fontaine didn’t answer. He just took
off his cloak, folded it in half and laid it on the desk,
all-the-while staring at Mark.

Mark started, “Sir–”

“You really can’t be quiet, can you?” He
paused a moment.

Mark decided it best not to say anything.

The silence continued for more than a minute
before Monsieur Fontaine said, “This morning, you wished to roll
Ricky Barns up in a blanket and throw him in the water.”

Mark started to speak, but Monsieur
Fontaine’s hand shot up palm facing Mark. “You and your friends
spent quite a long time on The Island.”

Mark knew better than to answer. He just
cocked his head slightly and looked back at the investigator. He
was wearing a black tie over a white dress shirt and black
trousers. The stones on both sides of his signet were black. The
stone on the right meant he was from Onyx Tribe. Anyone from Onyx
Tribe always saw things as black or white, right or wrong and never
anything in between. The black stone on the left probably meant he
thought there was always a right way or wrong way to do things,
never anything in between.

Mr. Thorpe, Mark’s math teacher from last
year, had black stones on either side of his signet. Mark thought
since the two stones were the same on both signets, the two men’s
personalities would be very similar. To his dismay, he was
beginning to see that idea was absolutely true.

“Was he unconscious when you and your friends
threw him in the water?”

Mark wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer
or not.

Monsieur Fontaine slammed his palm on the
desk making a loud noise, shattering the silence like a gunshot.
“He must have been or he would have been able to—”

There was a knock on the door just before it
opened and Mrs. Shadowitz entered. “Wyatt, I have sent for the
Ummim-Thummim Stone.”

The investigator kept his gaze on Mark.
“There’s no need for that. I’ll have the truth out of this boy,
post haste.”

Mark blurted out, “What truth? Just tell me
what you want to know and I’ll tell you.”

Mrs. Shadowitz said, “Tell me everything that
happened on The Island.”

Mark looked puzzled. “We just looked it over,
trying to figure out things that might give us an advantage in
flags matches.”

“You didn’t have an altercation with Ricky
Barns?”

“Not on The Island. He tried to pick a fight
with me this morning, but Mr. Thorpe stopped it.”

Monsieur Fontaine seemed incensed at Mark’s
answer. He raised his hand to slap the desk again. Mrs. Shadowitz’s
hand shot out and grabbed his hand before he could start his
downward swing. “Wyatt, the preliminary forensics report is in, and
there is something interesting among his belongings. Go have a
look.”

That bit of information gave Mark enough to
put things together; this was indeed a murder investigation. He
didn’t need the ability of spirit speak for Mrs. Shadowitz to know
what he was thinking, even though his mind was racing and
screaming,
Ricky’s dead? How? Why? They think I killed him. Why
aren’t the healers trying to bring him back?

Mrs. Shadowitz said, “Yes, Mark. Ricky is
dead. His body was found wrapped in a saturated blanket on the bank
of The Island. His spirit has already departed and can only be
returned by the One God.”

Mark jumped up, “The labyrinth! I’ve got to
take him into the labyrinth! People can’t die in there and all
injuries and sicknesses are healed in there. I’ve got to take him
in.”

“Mark, that won’t happen. His spirit is
already gone.”

“Ma’am, I’ve got to try!” His eyes began to
well up. “If there’s just the slightest chance, I’ve got to try.
I’ve got to.”

“Yes, I know you do. Mr. Diefenderfer is
standing by, waiting for you in the healing ward. Mr. Young is on
his way up there as well. Don’t stop to tell your friends. Just go.
I’ll tell everyone.”

Mark said, “Yes, ma’am.” She opened the door
and he scrambled through it.

Mark held the door to the labyrinth open with
the staff while Mr. Diefenderfer tossed in a couple of bug bombs
followed by a couple of duffel bags full of supplies. Bug bombs
were small incendiary devices developed a few years back for
quickly driving away evil spirits and using them prior to entering
the labyrinth was always a good idea. Time moved about twenty-four
times faster inside the labyrinth than outside of it. Though they
planned to be gone no more than three or so hours according to
outside time, three days would pass inside the labyrinth. Mr.
Diefenderfer hoisted Ricky’s body from the gurney and over his
shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He stepped through the opening,
followed by Mr. Young with a lantern, and Mark carrying the staff,
the only known means of opening the doors in the labyrinth.

The stench of burnt fish became evident
halfway down the ladder and the ever-present, oppressive feeling of
foreboding began to permeate Mark’s mind. The horrid memories of
past events in the labyrinth played like movies; everything from
being so hungry, using every bit of his will to keep from doing
what the impish voice had said he would do to realizing in the
fifth room, while fighting just to stay alive, that the staff was
the key to the doors in there. The labyrinth was definitely a place
no one wanted to be.

Mark asked, “Who found Ricky’s body?”

Mr. Young said, “Slone Voif did. He and his
friends had the same idea you did about exploring The Island.”

“Were they brought in for questioning?”

“Yes. They were released before you were
brought in.”

“Any idea who actually killed him?”

“The preliminary examination of the body
suggests suicide, but the circumstances suggest otherwise. Rolling
one’s self up in a blanket and then rolling into the moat is a
pretty bizarre way to commit suicide, don’t you think?”

Mark said, “So, you’re saying we don’t know
if it was murder or suicide.”

They reached the bottom of the ladder. Mr.
Diefenderfer laid the body down and said, “We will, I am sure, have
a definitive answer to that very question on our return, in three
days.” Three days was the consensus of everyone that had been
rescued from that cursed place last year for how long it took a
body to completely regenerate in there.

When Mrs. Shadowitz
joined
Monsieur Fontaine in the healing ward, he pulled a
signet ring out of the box containing Ricky’s belongings. The crest
was a crossed scimitar and quill; the crest of the Neo-Phylum or
New Order. He said, “They’re either getting careless or much
bolder. Do you know if he was a full-fledged member or a
recruit?”

“I believe he’s too young to be full member.
If he was a recruit that just found out what they’re capable of,
what they stand for, and tried to back out, that could explain his
death.”

“Yes, but why would they try to frame Mark
Young?”

“There was a lot of animosity between those
two, and you already know Mark isn’t entirely innocent in that
regard.”

“Do you think they’re trying to recruit Mark
or his friends?”

“They’d be stupid not to try, but from what I
know of Mark’s group, I highly doubt they could succeed.”

In the labyrinth, Mark
opened a duffel bag and pulled out two more lanterns before taking
up a position beside Ricky’s body. Both Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr.
Young were kneeling on either side of the body, both with their
hoods up and their heads bowed. Mark wasn’t wearing his cloak, so
he just bowed his head and turned his thoughts to,
Why?

He knew full well it was possible for Ricky
to come back to life, but didn’t think it likely at this point. If
God were going to consent to letting it happen, it would most
likely already have. Although, history has it that Abraham was able
to change God’s mind—once.

A full two hours had passed before Mark
whispered to himself, “God, I wish I could honestly say take me
instead of him and mean it, but I can’t. I can say I don’t wish him
to be dead and plead my heart that you would return him.”

A booming laugh filled the cavern of the
first room in the labyrinth. Mark steadied himself from falling
over sideways. He recognized that laugh; it was the same laugh that
had filled his mind when he awoke in the labyrinth a couple of
months ago. “BENRAH!” Only this time the laugh wasn’t in his head,
it was in his ears.

Instinctively he reached into Aaron’s Grasp
for his sword, but it wasn’t there. He had been disarmed before
being brought in for questioning and hadn’t thought to retrieve his
sword in his haste to get Ricky into the labyrinth. It probably
would have been useless against the apparition now towering over
the group anyway.

He couldn’t tell how big the creature was,
but it was big, very big. He was too close to get a good feel for
its size, but it was at least as big as a dragon. Its body was sort
of an amber color and the wings stretched out of the range of the
lantern’s light. A bundle of necks extended from the top of its
body to a very odd shaped head. The head was like a group of heads
meshed together with eyes and mouths all the way around. The
laughing sound seemed to be coming from a tambourine shaped
membrane in the center of its chest.