Read Jack Staples and the Ring of Time Online

Authors: Mark Batterson

Tags: #C. S. Lewis, #Fantasy, #Young Readers, #Allegory

Jack Staples and the Ring of Time (12 page)

Alexia struggled to sit up. Jack crawled over, groaning every time he placed weight on his wounded leg. He grabbed Alexia’s hand and squeezed tight. She squeezed back.

“Who are you?” the creature snarled.

Still holding on to Jack’s hand, Alexia stood, pulling him up to stand beside her. Jack gritted his teeth to keep from passing out from the pain, but managed to stay standing.

“This can’t be,” the creature moaned as its milky white eyes shifted back and forth between Jack and Alexia.

“Shadule!” a voice roared. “Leave now or die!”

When the creature turned to face Mrs. Dumphry, wariness entered its eyes. Jack’s teacher was hunched and very pale, and though her voice had been firm, she looked frail and weary beyond words. As it studied her, the creature grew bolder.

“You!” It took a fluid step toward her. “You thought you could hide her from us,” it rasped. “She changes everything! Two children, where the prophecy speaks of only one.”

“Enough,” Mrs. Dumphry said firmly, calmly. Her voice was the same as when she spoke to an unruly pupil. Yet as she extended both hands toward it, the creature halted its menacing approach.

“You don’t have the strength to face me,” it rattled.

“You, of all the Assassin’s creatures, must know who I am. Or does the worm think itself a bird?” Mrs. Dumphry stood up straight as a hard look entered her eyes. “Come closer, little worm, and see how weary I am.” Her voice was mocking. “You are only alive because I have use of you. Go back and tell your master what you saw here. Tell him the Last Battle is near. The scales are coming off, and the Author’s army grows stronger every day. The Great Awakening will not be stopped. Tell your master of the second child. Tell him that together, these children will destroy him and all of the Shadow Souled once and for all!”

“We know the prophecies as well as you!” the creature croaked as it turned its milky eyes on Jack and Alexia. “The child will bow before the Assassin and destroy the world! One or two—it changes nothing.” The creature’s wings began to beat as it rose slowly into the air. “And the child will be the end of the Awakened!” Keeping a wary eye on Mrs. Dumphry, it rose, then disappeared into the night sky.

Everyone’s eyes stayed glued to the sky. Mrs. Dumphry stood perfectly still, scanning the heavens. Arthur had also arrived and was now standing beside Mrs. Dumphry, squinting upward with his one good eye. After a moment Mrs. Dumphry began to sway, and with her eyes still on the sky, she nodded, then looked at Jack and Alexia. “We are safe now. The Shadule is gone.” When she finished speaking, she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

 

Chapter 17

THE WAR OF TIME

 

When Mrs. Dumphry collapsed, none of the children moved. All three stared at her, not knowing what to do. After a moment, Jack turned to look in the opposite direction.

“Something’s coming,” he whispered, trying to stand up straighter. Alexia gritted her teeth as Arthur stumbled over to stand next to them. He’d found a large stick and was gripping it tightly. All three children stood shoulder to shoulder, Alexia in the middle. Whatever was making the sound was coming from the direction of the wagon.

Keeping his eyes glued to the forest in front of him, Jack spoke softly, “Thanks for trying to save me.”

“You’re welcome,” both Alexia and Arthur said at the same time. They shared a look as Alexia nodded to Arthur, who immediately blushed and looked away.

All three were the worse for wear. The wound on Jack’s leg had broken open, and Alexia was covered in scrapes and bruises. The left side of Arthur’s face was so bruised and swollen that his eye was completely shut. Besides this, all three were covered in dirt and mud. Bending stiffly, Jack picked up a large rock lying at his feet.

Whatever was coming was close now. Alexia stepped forward and began swinging her sling. Jack tensed as a large branch was pushed aside. In the light of the burning trees, Ethan Wild appeared, limping slowly toward them. His chest and neck were badly burned, and a long gash went from his left shoulder all the way down to the elbow of his right arm. He had to use his staff to keep upright. As his eyes landed on the group, he stopped and leaned heavily against a tree.

“I thought you’d all been taken or were dead by now.” He let out a long breath. “Where’s Mrs. …” His eyes darted to Mrs. Dumphry, lying unconscious on the ground. He stumbled over, almost falling in the process. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded, placing a hand on her forehead. Mrs. Dumphry had no obvious wounds, but she did look quite pale.

“You’re Ethan Wild,” Jack said slowly. “You’re the boy who went mad! I thought you were in an asylum somewhere.”

He glanced at Jack irritably. “I go by Wild now, but you haven’t answered my question.”

Alexia’s sling continued to spin, and the fierceness hadn’t left her eyes. “Where were you? The beasts attack, and you only show up now?” she snarled.

Wild stood tiredly. “Put the sling down, girl.”

Alexia whipped her sling around, sending a stone smashing into Wild’s thigh.

“Ow!” he yelped. “What was that for?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t aim for your head.” Alexia’s tone was menacing. “Answer the question!”

Wild shot her an angry look as he rubbed the bruise already forming on his thigh. “What does it look like I was doing? I was trying to stop the Shadule,” he said angrily. “Just ask them,” he said, pointing to Jack and Arthur. “If I hadn’t been there, these two would be dead! As it is, the thing nearly killed me.” He motioned toward his wounds.

Both Jack and Arthur nodded, but Alexia barely acknowledged them as she let loose another stone, this one flying toward Wild’s stomach. He was ready this time, swinging his staff around to deflect it. Wild didn’t stop his whirling staff but sped it up until it became a blur. Even using only one arm, he was quite good.

Arthur took a step back, and Jack sat down, the pain in his leg too much to continue standing.

“Listen to me.” Wild tried to control his voice. “You are going to have to trust me. If you don’t, the Dark Servants will find you and it will be too late. We need to carry Mrs. Dumphry to the wagon and get out of here. She will be fine in a few hours, but she needs rest.”

“I killed six of the Oriax, and the creature is gone,” Alexia retorted, “and don’t think you’re safe either. Unless you want to get hurt even more, you’re going to answer our questions.” Alexia glanced at Jack who quickly nodded in agreement.

“You killed
six
of them?” Wild said incredulously.

“That’s right. And if you think your staff will save you, think again.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Wild responded, growing more and more impatient. “We need to get out of here before they come back.”

“Then you had better start talking! The Shadule”—Alexia struggled with the name—“said something about prophesies, and it seemed to be scared when it saw me.”

Wild almost dropped his staff. “You talked to it?”

Alexia took advantage of Wild’s shock and let loose another stone, striking him hard in the hand. Wild screamed, dropping his staff. “Will you stop doing that?” he shouted.

Alexia had another stone in the sling before he could so much as look at the staff. A crazy look entered her eyes as she swung it. “Tell us what’s going on! Why do they want us? What prophesies?”

“And my mother”—Jack was surprised at the anger he felt—“what’s happened to her?”

“And mine? And the town?” Arthur said boldly, stepping closer to Jack.

Wild cast an anxious glance at Mrs. Dumphry, who was still unconscious.

“Boy,” Alexia said, her voice menacing. “The next one will land between your eyes. Now talk!”

Wild sighed. “All right,” he said, throwing his good arm in the air. “I’ll tell you what I can. But some of it won’t make sense until we get to Agartha.”

“Okay, then,” Alexia said. “Start talking.”

“Ballylesson was attacked by the Shadow Souled, those who serve a creature we call the Assassin. At least one Shadule and a number of Oriax were part of the attack. I don’t know how many of the townsfolk survived—maybe all of them did. The Dark Servants didn’t seem to care about anything other than finding you.” He spoke to Jack. “They had no reason to stay after you were gone.”

A pained look entered Wild’s eyes as he continued. “My uncle was there too, but the only thing we could do for him and everyone else was to leave.”

Jack waited for more, but Wild stayed silent.

“And my mother?” Jack asked. “Is she dead?”

When Wild met his eyes, he hesitated. “Yes … At least, I think so.”

Jack suddenly felt dizzy.

“She”—Alexia pointed angrily at Mrs. Dumphry—“told me we could save Megan. She said if I came with her, Megan Staples would be saved!”

“She had to tell you something to get you to listen,” replied Wild. “If you hadn’t come, you’d be dead or captured by now.”

Alexia took a menacing step forward, swinging her sling a little faster. “Tell us what’s happening. And if you lie to me, it’ll be the last thing you do!”

Wild gave one last, longing look at his staff before answering. “The world that most people live in is not real. Or rather, it is only a shadow of the real world. The story goes that before our world was born, something terrible happened. And because of it, at the birth of our world, scales were placed on the eyes of every human and beast. The scales were meant to stop us from seeing the world as it truly is. Except that for some, the scales have fallen off.”

“What are you talking about?” Alexia was beyond angry. “You had better start making sense or I’ll—”

“You asked for answers,” Wild cut her off. “You may not understand them all—to be honest, there are few who do. I don’t even know if the Sephari understand all of it, but I’m telling the truth. Now, be quiet and listen.”

Alexia stuck out her lower lip but remained silent.

“A war has been raging since before Time was born—a war between light and darkness, between the Author and the Assassin. But when our world was born, the war was brought here, and here it has stayed. I guess you had to find out sooner or later. But you”—now he spoke directly to Alexia—“have changed everything. Jack was expected. The Awakened have been searching for him since the very first humans awakened.”

Alexia and Jack shared a confused look.

“There is a prophecy that speaks of a child who will be born without scales. Its eyes will be open from the first day. There are many parts of the prophecy we simply don’t understand, and”—Wild shrugged irritably—“I haven’t been told everything. But the prophecy says two things that seem to be clear: the child will bow before the Assassin and destroy the world, and the child will destroy the Assassin and save the world.

“Jack was born without scales,” he continued. “He is the Child of Prophecy. His mother was the Chosen One. It all made sense. And then, as Mrs. Dumphry tells it”—Wild shifted his gaze back to Alexia—“you showed up in Ballylesson. And your eyes are proof; you were also born without scales.”

Jack listened in confused silence.

“Until now the prophecy never made sense,” Wild told them. “How could the child both destroy and save the world? But now there are two children where there should only be one. Does this mean one of you will join us and the other will fight against us? Or does it mean something else?”

Jack and Alexia shared a disbelieving look, and Arthur took an involuntary step back.

“There’s not much more I know. My scales only fell off a few years ago, and I haven’t been told everything.” Wild seemed irritated at this. “When she awakens, Mrs. Dumphry will tell you more, but we need to leave now. We’ve stayed too long already.”

“You say my eyes are proof,” Alexia snapped. “But my eyes aren’t any different than yours.”

“And how often have you looked at your eyes?” Wild retorted. “You can tell if someone has awakened by the scars they bear. When we’re safely away from here, I’ll happily show you my scars. They’re on the center of my eyes and very faint, but they are there. It’s the same with every Awakened. But the two of you don’t have scars. It’s not something I’d be able to see from here, but if I looked closely, I would see a faint colored streak crossing your pupils.”

“Everyone’s eyes are like that,” Alexia retorted, though she sounded less sure than before.

Wild rolled his eyes irritably. “No, everyone’s eyes are not like that. In all the world, only you and Jack have eyes like that.” As he spoke, he picked up Mrs. Dumphry and threw her over his good shoulder. “These questions could go on for days, and you still wouldn’t be satisfied. I’m done for the night. We’re leaving.”

As Jack followed Wild back to the wagon, he felt sick to his stomach. He remembered his mother’s words from the night before she died. “You are not a normal boy, Jack. Your birth was prophesied even before our world came into being.” Besides this, Jack had seen the colored smear at the center of his eyes. It was faint and could only be seen in full daylight, but there was a small, aqua-blue streak crossing the pupil of each eye. He’d never thought anything of it until this moment.

 

A few hours later, Mrs. Dumphry and all three children were asleep in the back of the wagon as Wild drove. Wild had found some pine branches and made a bed for Mrs. Dumphry on the floorboards. Jack and Arthur shared one bench, and Alexia took the other.

When he climbed in, Jack was sure he would never be able to find sleep. His mother was dead; he was in the middle of some kind of waking nightmare, and his leg still burned like fire. Yet as his mind spun with thoughts of home, he closed his eyes and immediately fell into a fitful sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, Jack was surprised to see that the sun was up. Every muscle in his body ached. Arthur slept with his head resting on Jack’s legs; Alexia now lay on the floor on top of the pine branches; Mrs. Dumphry was no longer there; and the wagon wasn’t moving. Jack’s chest tightened as a tear slid down his cheek. All he could think about was the sight of his mother lying on the grass outside his house.

Every muscle protested as he sat up. He was ravenously hungry. When he moved his legs out from under Arthur’s head, Jack let out a quiet moan. Although the burning in his leg didn’t seem quite as bad as the night before, the wound had turned very dark.

When Arthur’s head hit the bench, he mumbled something but didn’t wake. Jack rubbed his good leg, trying to get the blood flowing. From outside, he could hear a low murmur of conversation. He cautiously put weight on the wounded leg. Although it burned, the pain was bearable at least. Creeping quietly so as not to wake the others, he stepped from the wagon and stretched his arms above his head, groaning at the stiffness in his muscles.

Whoever was speaking was hidden inside a small copse of trees a short distance away. Jack walked toward the trees as quietly as he could. He wanted to hear what was being said without being seen. As he peered from behind a tree, he saw Mrs. Dumphry speaking with a man he’d never seen before. The man was tall with shoulder-length black hair, olive skin, and a large scar running from his forehead over a ruined eye and down his cheek. He was dressed completely in black, with a long cape and a sword buckled at his waist.

Other books

Razor Sharp by Fern Michaels
Firefox Down by Craig Thomas
Busted by O'Toole, Zachary
Hades by Russell Andrews
Forever Scarred by Jackie Williams
The Barefoot Princess by Christina Dodd