The Book of the King (19 page)

A gentle wave propelled him toward land—toward the portal. So maybe he would make it. Maybe he wouldn't drown. But no sooner did this hope ascend within him than he turned at a ferocious splash behind him. The water stilled. The sky darkened. And the wind began to churn. The water beneath him circled like someone had pulled the plug in a bathtub.

Owen kicked against the cyclone vortex, but down he spun, sucked into the water hole. Just before his head was pulled beneath the surface, he spied a jagged, dark green fin several yards behind. It did not cut through the water straight and true like a shark but rather undulated, dipping and popping up, showing rippled skin.

Owen flailed, choking and sputtering and trying to rise, but the water engulfed him, and all he could hear was the throbbing of his own heart.

The Slimesees was a poor, ugly creature fashioned by the Dragon through years of crossbreeding and manipulation. He had a single purpose: to guard the portal and eat anything that tried to get through.

One special ability the Slimesees possessed was his capacity to sense fear. He had created the cyclone beneath the surface, and as Owen struggled against it, the Slimesees picked up on his panic and knew a good meal was not far off.

He raised himself out of the water, threw back his head, and let out a bloodcurdling scream of anticipation that also served to scare other animals away from his prey—at least the ones that had survived. The Slimesees dived, shooting through the side wall of the cyclone and hovering there opposite the spinning Owen.

* * *

Owen feared drowning, was petrified of the Slimesees, and was even scared of how scared he was. As Owen's head rose out of the vortex, gasping and struggling to stay afloat, he wrestled with his backpack, air bubbles escaping as he unzipped it and reached inside for the plastic bag.

The Slimesees was staring, seemed to be calculating, preparing, waiting for just the right moment to spring and devour Owen. Through the thrashing water the boy noticed muscles tightening against green scales and the narrowing of those serpentine eyes. When the Slimesees sprang and shot like an arrow toward Owen, teeth bared, a feral missile intent upon tearing him limb from limb, Owen held
The Book of the King
out before him.

The Slimesees, stretched to full length, mouth open, looked horrified. His eyes widened, his tiny ears flew back, and he shrieked.

Owen recalled words from
The Book of the King
and spoke them boldly in a watery whisper: “‘The King commands you.'”

The Slimesees stopped in midair, hung there for a second like a cartoon character, and sank into the abyss. Flailing, he plunged to the bottom, the resounding splash creating a reverse cyclone that shot high into the sky.

Owen was caught up in this current of water, wind, and light and held the book as tightly as he could as he surged upward with the force of a billion carnival rides. The cyclone reversed from the inside out and blasted Owen into the air like a cannonball.

Suddenly something rose before him, and Owen braced for impact. But as if he were riding a flume, he slid down what was left of the funnel and was deposited harmlessly in the sand.

The book was under his arm, his backpack still snug around his shoulders. Owen threw sand in the air and scooped up more, then danced around the tiny beach, laughing from the belly. He had survived the Slimesees and the water and the cyclone, all because of a few words from the book.

Mr. Page had spoken of the power of the book and its words, but Owen had never dreamed of anything like this. He sat in the sand and began to read, one eye on the water. The cave ceiling had returned and it was dark again, but he was grateful for a little light.

Mucker peeked out from between the pages and wiped his head as if brushing sweat from his brow. Owen placed him in the sand and watched the tiny creature inch along, making a track to the stone wall. Owen followed and sat with his back to the wall. A few palms made him feel sheltered, although he worried the Slimesees might return or send a friend or brother for revenge.

Owen felt drawn to a section of the book titled “Making the Journey.”

Do not worry about what lies behind you, for yesterday is gone. Do not be concerned about tomorrow, for your path is prepared. Concern yourself with today and choose what is good. Work with a whole heart.

Mucker crawled up Owen's leg and onto his hand. Finally he moved to the edge of the book and turned back several pages with his head. Owen was fascinated that Mucker knew what he was doing, almost as if he had written these words.

Mucker crawled to the middle of a page, and Owen read:

Prepare yourself for the journey with rest. Sleep and dream great dreams, for it will be difficult to get to the other side.

Owen yawned and stretched and rubbed his eyes. The ordeal in the water had left him exhilarated, but now every muscle and bone went limp. He used his backpack for a pillow, stretching out in the sand.

Owen dreamed he was back at Tattered Treasures, his father behind the counter, head down. Owen felt a deep desire to hug him, but as he moved toward the man, he realized that this was not his father at all but someone he had never seen. The face was gnarled and angular, a sharp nose jutting, shaggy eyebrows dancing, and piercing red eyes that seemed to belong to some reptile rather than to a man.

Owen ran upstairs, but the man followed, changing form as he ascended. Owen closed and locked his bedroom door, ran to the window, and opened it, then changed his mind and dived into the closet. He buried himself deep in the back, peeking out through the hanging clothes, watching as his bedroom door appeared to bubble. The glass knob melted. Then the door was consumed by fire and vanished.

His room burst into flames, shattered and blackened embers floating about. Some fell on his bed and ignited the blankets and pillow. A ghastly smell filled the room, not just of smoke and fire but acrid and bitter, like death itself.

Owen stood still, trying to breathe, when the man entered and surveyed the area. He sneered at Owen's book collection, then picked up something from Owen's desk.

When he spotted the open window, the man took a deep breath and his back began to change. His clothing ripped open, revealing cracked skin, scales. The transformation was hideous, but Owen could not turn his eyes away. A huge tail appeared with a V-shaped appendage at the end. Hands and arms grew scales and muscles rippled. The man's shiny head grew rigid scales, and a snout extended. Owen was certain the being would be able to easily sniff him out now.

When the beast turned, Owen saw the same terrible red eyes, now in the body of a great dragon. As the being grew, the room could not contain it, and with a snort and a thrust of its horned head, it forced its way out the window, tearing out much of that wall.

Owen hurried to his desk where the frame holding the picture of his mother lay cracked, the picture torn. His mother's head was gone, and rage filled him. The Dragon had stolen his only connection with his mother. He whirled to face a gigantic hole in the wall.

Red eyes stared back. And then the great mouth opened, and searing heat and flames shot at him.

Owen awoke in a sweat, hands full of sand. He found the book and cradled it to his chest. There was no sign of the Slimesees, only his own footprints—and Mucker's tiny trail.

Mucker!

Where could he be? Eaten by some bird or bat?

Owen turned at the sound of scratching and found Mucker munching his way through the round dragon portrait etched into the stone wall. How could a worm eat through rock? His speed was amazing. Mucker would pull back his lips, bare his sharp teeth, and tear away. He had eaten about half an inch of the dragon's body and already he seemed bigger, his body thicker and more round. How could that have happened so quickly?

Seeing Mucker eat made Owen hungry too. He dug food from his backpack and devoured it in a few bites. Then he sat back against the wall again to read. Mucker crawled up his arm and perched on his shoulder for a moment, then moved back to the wall.

The power of words will be evident as your journey begins. To breach the portal you will need patience, a steady eye, and consistent reading, for with each word you will proceed closer to your goal. Once you begin, there is no turning back, for the Mucker can lead in only one direction. Keep reading, despite any fatigue.

Owen was not simply heading to another realm. Everything in his life had led to this moment. In one way, he had been trained for such a trip, and in another, his education was just beginning.

The next time Owen looked up from the book, he found a huge pile of gravel. Mucker's tail squirmed above him. The little thing had created a hole three feet wide.

By now nothing Mucker accomplished could surprise Owen. So he continued reading, totally engrossed. Parts of the book he could not understand, and he had to read slowly and often read the same paragraph several times. Some things, he knew, he would not understand until he was in the middle of doing them.

An hour later he became aware that the noise behind him had ceased, and he turned to see what Mucker was up to. Owen yelped when he faced an enormous head and teeth that could tear him to pieces. But it was only Mucker. A much, much bigger Mucker.

Owen stood, surrounded by gravel, to find the hole so deep he could not see its end. Owen strapped on his headlamp, grabbed his backpack and the book, and climbed atop the gravel to where he could squeeze through and follow Mucker.

A strange orange-green glow came from Mucker as he led the way. Owen scooted along, pulling the backpack. When they reached the end of where Mucker had dug, the creature stopped, as if waiting for Owen to read again. When Owen dug out the book, Mucker started in again, chomping and chewing, clearing dirt and rock from before them. Mucker chewed with his ever-growing teeth, then brushed the residue back with his body, pushing it around Owen.

Mucker was growing with each chomp of dirt, so he had to be swallowing some of it. It made no scientific sense, but it seemed the bigger Mucker grew and the more progress he made, the more air came from the very pores of his skin, supplying Owen with all he needed to breathe.

Seven hours into the trip, Owen's eyelids felt like they weighed five pounds. Mucker had accelerated and moved huge amounts of dirt and rock with every chomp. Owen could now kneel in the tunnel without his head touching the ceiling. He stopped reading long enough to feel the smooth sides, which reminded him of the ones under the bookstore. He had to wonder if Mucker had created those. Then he remembered he was to read despite his fatigue.

Silver and gold pass through your hands, but a good friend lasts forever and is to be treasured above any material thing.

Owen wished he had a friend to share this experience, but who would have believed it? He was glad he didn't have to face the police or the principal or Gordan and his crew, at least for a while. This whole journey felt like running away, but he knew he would eventually have to set things right with everyone, including his father.

A brother is born to walk with you through difficult times, but there is a friend even closer and more faithful than a brother.