Chapter 19

The Interpreter

That night, I was too excited to fall asleep right away. I couldn’t stop thinking about all that had happened that day: the Emissary’s visit, the prophecy of the Flame’s hidden power, the marking of Philan and, of course, speculating who the remaining five might be. My mind settled on my growing suspicions that Hope might be one of the seven, the ember of hope. It made sense, didn’t it? The thought inspired me. I was anxious now, more than ever, to complete my quest—if only to see her once more.

When at last I did drift off, I found myself dreaming of Hope again.

* * * * * * *

Like incoming waves washing onto the shore, a blurry green glow gradually pulsed its way into the vast expanse of blackness. As it pulled into focus, an identifiable symbol emerged as the source of light. Circular and marked with three interlocking V’s, the Author’s mark belonged to a slowly spinning gold medallion.

The sparkling light that emanated from the medallion’s center suddenly blossomed into a flame. Having parted with the Author’s mark, the fiery guide began to float away, leading down a winding staircase into complete darkness. At the base of the stairwell, it passed through a massive wooden door and into a rugged terrain, surrounded on all sides by towering rock walls. In the center of the cave a great dragon lay slumbering. The spark passed by the sleeping beast without arousing it and continued on until it came to a crack in the rock wall.

At that moment, I became aware of my own presence in this surreal scene. Gliding effortlessly forward, I followed the Flame into the rift in the rock and down through a winding fissure until the descent stopped at a black stone door. As we approached, the door slid open, accompanied by the sound of grinding rock. The open door revealed our final destination, a massive underground garden.

The garden cavern was rich and fragrant. The rock walls were covered with climbing vines and flowering plants. Despite the darkness of this place, life was here. The Flame rushed off alone into the shadows until it reached a particular spot at the chamber’s ceiling. Then lowering itself slowly, it began to reveal the hovering form of a girl at rest on a stone table.

I had seen this vision before. Each time that my dreams had taken me back to revisit Hope, more of the scene was revealed. But this was the only time I felt as though I was actually there.

Climbing the stairs that led to the stone bier, I watched as the Flame once again spilled as liquid light over her body. Her pale skin began to shine just like before. Standing in the glow of her luminescence, I could sense the miracle of life returning and watched with wonder as her lungs began to take in breath anew.

As I reached out to touch her shoulder, Hope’s hand suddenly twitched, clasping my wrist in a stiff grip. Startled, I tried to pull away, but then froze when I heard two words sigh quietly past her lips, “Release me.”

“R-release y-you?” I stammered in shock. “How?”

Hope’s grip loosened and her arm began to fall limply away, but I caught it before it did, pleading again, “How? Please tell me!”

I waited in vain for a response, until an unsettling feeling caused me to turn around. Watching me from the shadows below were two silver eyes.

“Stay back!” I shouted, stepping between Hope and the silently approaching Xin assassin. “You cannot have her!”

Without a word, Xaul leaped over me. I swung a fist at the twisting form as it passed over my head, but my defense was futile; his quick and powerful move took only a second to deliver. The next thing I knew, I was falling down the staircase into a bottomless well of shadows below. As I fell away from the scene, I saw Xaul turn, raise his sword and plunge its dark blade into Hope with finality once again.

The heat of his blade seemed to sear into my own chest as I watched him snuff the last spark of life from Hope. The burning on my chest intensified until I could stand it no longer.

* * * * * * *

Jolting awake, I sat up and fell out of my hammock to the stone floor. I was alone in my room in Torpor, but the strange burning sensation still lingered on my chest as if the fire of Xaul’s sword had left its mark on my heart.

Instinctively, I reached up to feel my chest and found the warmth was coming from the medallion itself. The Author’s mark had begun to glow with the heat of the Flame within it. Lifting the medallion away from my chest, I watched as the Flame emerged, floating overhead in the shape of a ball.

Take hold, a voice in the Flame whispered.

Though its message was unclear, somehow I instinctively knew it wanted me to touch it. The moment my hand entered the Flame I felt myself being pulled by it into a tunnel of light. My body was fluid and compressed, like toothpaste being squeezed from a tube. The sensation only lasted a few moments, but was disorienting to say the least. When at last it was over, I found I was no longer in Solandria at all.

I was standing on a cement sidewalk, in an unfamiliar city, at the end of a long row of skinny two-story houses crammed tightly together. I didn’t know for sure where I was, but things looked and felt a lot like Destiny. For all I knew, it was.

All was quiet except for the tinkling of a windchime somewhere nearby and the howl of a train in the distance. A gentle breeze blew past, swinging a squeaky chain-link gate slowly open a few paces from where I stood. Then, all was still.

The gate belonged to the only house whose porch light was still turned on. Was it a sign for me to come in?

I hesitated to enter at first, still wary of my surroundings, but the medallion warmed on my chest, then lifted slightly away seeming to draw me toward the open gate. Following its lead, I started down the narrow walkway toward the front door of a stranger’s house. With every step, I had the eerie feeling that I was being watched by something. There wasn’t enough light from the dim porch light to know for sure, but the shadows in the small yard were deep enough to hide a variety of dangerous things.

After three steps up the path, a second gust of wind blew past, slamming the gate shut behind me. I tried not to let it scare me, but a low, guttural growl from a creature in the yard confirmed my foremost fear…I was not alone.

The growling seemed to surround me, first coming from the right side…then from the left. With nowhere to go, I froze in place as the menacing growls grew more intense and irritated with my presence. My imagination ran wild with the possibilities of what it could be. The suspense of not being able to see the threat was killing me. I needed light and protection.

My sword still hung at my side, latched to my belt by a leather clasp. If I moved quickly enough, perhaps I could grab and ignite it before the creature attacked. It was my only shot at protection.

Counting down from three in my mind, I executed the plan perfectly. My sword flashed to light with the will of the Code, revealing the beast that was rushing at me from the right. A large black dog was barreling toward me now, angered at the light and my intrusion on its property. I would have cut it apart to save myself except that a second identical dog began rushing at me from the opposite side of the path. Two dogs, teeth bared, hair raised on their backs, were racing toward me with vicious intentions. I would have time to catch only one with the sword before the other tackled me. Which would I choose, left or right? Before I could decide, their advances came to an abrupt and painful stop as each dog fell back only inches from the pathway I stood on. They continued growling at me from either side, but did not come an inch closer.

“It’s all right,” a woman’s voice called out from the front door, waving me forward. “They can’t get you as long as you stay on the path. The invisible fence keeps them in place. Come on in. No use chatting outside this time of night.”

From where I stood I couldn’t make out the features of the silhouetted figure that had just beckoned me into her house. Even though I normally would never enter a stranger’s home alone, I figured it was safe to make an exception this time. It was certainly better than staying in the yard.

As I stepped toward the porch, the dogs moved along beside me all the way to the base of the stairs. Once I took my first step on the staircase, the dogs backed away, unable to follow me further.

At the top of the stairs I discovered the figure was not, in fact, a stranger as I had first expected. Her short white hair, round brown eyes, rosy complexion and friendly, wrinkled smile was one I used to dread, but had come to love.

“Gabby?”

“Yes, it’s me, Hunter. Surprised?”

“A little. What are you doing here?”

“It’s my home, Hunter; I live in Destiny.”

“You didn’t tell me that!”

“You sure? I could have sworn I did at the feast when we first met. Of course, I say a lot of things to a lot of people. Not everyone hears everything I say, and I suppose I say more than I should at times too.”

This was, in fact, a true statement. Gabby had the gift of…well…gab. She could talk for hours on end if you let her. To some, it might have been annoying, but her joy and passion for life was so contagious you couldn’t help but grow to like her.

“Please, come in. I’ve been expecting you for quite some time, you know.”

She was a small woman, but she packed more spunk per square inch than anyone else I knew. I followed her into a cluttered living space highlighted by olive green couches and two orange oversized chairs. The space was not very big, more like an apartment than a home, but it seemed to suit Gabby’s needs. The smell of lavender floated in the air from candles burning on the mantle of the fireplace across the room. For the most part the place was tidy, though the small end table beside the couch was piled with past-due bills.

“I have some hot tea on the stove; would you like some?”

“Sure, I guess,” I said, still trying to work out why and how I was even here in the first place. At first glance, the décor was definitely that of an older person: white lace doilies, porcelain statuettes, inspirational plaques and, of course, a scattering of family pictures proudly displayed throughout the room. Several of the photographs were of her and her late husband, Gerwyn, who had died trying to save me from a dragon in Solandria. Each golden frame was neatly arranged and dust-free.

But as I examined things closer, I discovered there was also an assortment of items that just seemed out of place. On the coat rack a black hooded sweatshirt hung limply, complete with a trendy skull design on its sleeve. Below it, a backpack and pair of dirty tennis shoes (much too big for Gabby’s feet) were slung against the base of the entryway wall. Set up beneath the television was a video game console and a basket of recent game titles, hardly the kind of entertainment I expected a lady like her to show interest in.

“So you live alone?” I asked, curious to hear her response.

“I do now, but I haven’t always,” she answered as the tray of teacups and saucers she carried clattered across the room. “Those video games belonged to my grandson, if that’s what you mean. I have his picture up on the mantle there in the corner. Of course that’s three years old…he stopped getting school pictures after the seventh grade.”

She handed a cup of hot tea to me in a fragile china cup as I spotted the picture of her grandson. The boy in the 4 x 6 school photo was all smiles, grinning widely despite an obvious gap between his front teeth. His eyes were squinted mostly shut, which drew more attention to his freckled nose and thick brown eyebrows.

“Looks like a funny…er, I mean fun kid,” I said, absent-mindedly, hoping she hadn’t taken offense to my poor choice of words. She seemed not to notice, so I took a casual sip of tea and nearly burnt my tongue in the process. This is why I don’t like hot drinks, I reminded myself.

“Yes, Cranton always was a hoot to have around, especially when he was younger.”

“Cranton!” I said in shock, nearly spitting what little tea I had sipped into the air. I forced myself to swallow it, and it burned all the way down my throat. That was him. Of course, he was much younger in the picture, and I rarely saw him smile in a friendly manner anymore, but sure enough it was Cranton.

“Did you say Cranton is your grandson?!”

“Well, yes! Why? Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he’s been in a few classes with me, but we’ve never really hung out much. We’re not really what you’d call friends, I guess. He’s just…uh…well…”

“A bully, I know,” Gabby added bluntly.

Her response surprised me; I wasn’t used to hearing grandparents talk about their grandkids like that—after all, it was the grandparents’ job to gush over how good and sweet they were, not state the obvious.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Gabby continued, eyeing the look of shock on my face. “I loved the boy dearly. But he chose to make life miserable for himself and everyone around him after his parents died…”

“I didn’t know his parents died.”

“Yes, it was almost seven years ago now, a car accident. He was in fifth grade at the time, never really recovered from it either. He kept to himself at first but once he hit seventh grade he started finding trouble.” I noticed her eyes begin to gloss over as she fought back tears. She wiped one from the corner of her eye and began to choke up as she recalled the choices her grandson had made.

“I had hoped Gerwyn and I could offer him a safe place to grow up—that he’d find some stability with us. But then Gerwyn died and Cranton really took a turn for the worse. I tried my best to explain it to him, but he never listened to me. We’ll never know for sure, but I think all of his pent-up anger is what led to the fire.”

“Fire?” I asked.

“Yes, the school fire, remember? It was a year ago today.”

“There was a fire at school last year?”

“Sure, burned the whole school down too! I have the article right here.”

She shuffled through a pile of papers that rested beside the sofa and selected a newspaper clipping to hand to me. The headline of the Destiny Times’ front cover story read:

Troubled Teen Killed in School Blaze

The picture on the front was of Destiny High engulfed in a fierce fire. A picture of Cranton was also displayed. Below his name a question was printed: Victim OR Arson? Shockingly enough, the date of the fire was the same night we had gone to the fairgrounds.

“How is this possible?” I asked. “The fire would have happened the same night as the fair. That was the night we came back to Solandria. I can’t have been gone for a whole year already, can I?”

“Anything is possible, Hunter. As you know, the story of Solandria is not connected directly to our own timeline. The Author can do what he likes between worlds.”

“I guess,” I said nervously, “I just never expected we’d be gone this long.” My thoughts turned from the present to my mom and how awful she would be feeling to have lost me over a year ago. She must think I was dead too.

“Don’t worry yourself, Hunter,” Gabby said. “Just because you’re here now, doesn’t mean you’ll be here later.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you return to Solandria to finish what you have been called to do, a new way home will be made. You likely will return to the precise moment you left the Veil. There have only been a few instances where it has happened otherwise.”

The thought comforted me, but only a little.

“But enough of that, I’m guessing you didn’t come here to talk about my troubles,” Gabby said. “So what is it, hmm?”

“Honestly, I don’t know why I’m here.”

“That’s good,” she said sipping her tea. “I’d be worried if you thought you did. Why don’t you start by telling me about these visions you’ve been having?”

“How did you know about my visions?” I asked.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“I guess not,” I said, realizing that if she was already expecting me, she probably had been given instructions on how to help me. I started by explaining our mission to carry the Flame to the seven. As I shared the prophecy of the Consuming Fire with her and my visions of Hope asking me to release her, Gabby’s face lit up.

“So what do you think it means? Is Hope still alive?”

There was a long pause as Gabby thought about the vision. It was an odd thing to see her pass up an immediate opportunity to speak. When at last she did speak, the tone in her voice was different. Distant and focused.

“It wouldn’t surprise me at all. She is frail, of that I am sure. But as long as the Resistance is still around—no matter how weak, we can be sure she is alive. You are familiar with what happened the night the Resistance tried to move Hope to a safe location, right?”

“Yeah, Petrov told me,” I answered. “Faldyn stole her.”

“Or so we think,” Gabby corrected. “We have not seen her or him ever since. One thing is clear, whoever has her must know how important she is to the success of the Codebearers’ survival. There would be no other reason to abduct her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hope isn’t like the rest of us, Hunter. She’s a virtuess.”

“Virtuess?”

“Yes, a gift from the Author. She came with the promise that one day she would become something more, something wonderful. An eternal flame in the hearts of all who are called.”

“So do you think she’s one of the seven? The ember of hope?”

“Yes, I do.”

This was good news. If Hope was one of the seven, I would see her again soon.

“But there is something more to your visions.”

“How so?”

“In any of your dreams have you ever been able to save her?”

“No, I haven’t,” I said, suddenly losing my excitement. I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but I didn’t like to think about it.

“I see,” she said after a long pause. “What happens if you don’t try and save her?”

“Are you serious?” I blurted out the moment she said it. “If Hope’s alive, I have to find a way to save her!”

“That’s exactly my point! You are letting your emotions get in the way of doing what is right.”

“Huh?” I said, bewildered.

“Let me put it this way, what is it that you feel for Hope?”

She couldn’t have posed a more difficult question. My feelings for Hope were a tangled mess of complicated emotions. It seemed impossible to unravel one feeling from another—she was all of them combined, and all mixed up.

“I really like her,” I started to say, knowing all the words fell short of my true emotions. There was more to it than just that so I continued. “For starters, she always encouraged and inspired me to want to be a better person. When she was with me, I felt like I had a true friend, someone I could really trust.”

“Hope has a way of doing that,” Gabby said.

“Yeah, and I feel like it is my fault that she’s gone, you know? If she really is alive somewhere, I want to set things right, to bring her back.”

“Did you ever consider that your desire to bring her back might be for your own selfish reasons? That maybe you could be keeping her from becoming something more—something that is greater than we can possibly imagine.”

“Why do you say that?”

“In your visions, Hope keeps asking you to release her. She loved you, Hunter, even more than you love her. But until you allow her to go, her purpose will not be complete. You will have to choose between saving her for your own selfish motives or releasing her into the Author’s hands.”

“But I can’t just stand by and watch her die! What good could possibly come of it? I don’t understand.”

“When the time is right, you will,” Gabby chuckled and added, “soon enough.”

Her words were like an irritating riddle. How was I supposed to watch Hope be killed at the hands of a madman like Xaul? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. I was angry that Gabby had even suggested it would be okay. Furthermore, if Hope was one of the seven as I believed she was, I would have to save her.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Gabby said, “I have something for you before you go.”

She motioned for me to follow her, which I did. She led me down a narrow hallway to a small closet door. Opening it, she produced a wooden box from the top shelf, which she dusted off and held in front of her.

“When Gerwyn died,” she said, opening the box and looking me straight in the eyes, “I decided to share a token of his life with as many people as I could. Of course, you left before I could give you something to remember him by. But I kept it, just in case we met again.”

The wooden lid lifted open on hinges, revealing a lining of green felt inside. She reached into the box and removed a small, square silver trinket, which she handed to me. I turned the flattened piece of metal over in my hand. On one side, a dragon was etched into the metal, and on the other a series of strange markings.

“What is it?”

“Just a trinket, really. It was a cipher for one of the training rooms in Sanctuary. Not much use now—but Gerwyn had a collection of them he used to give out as awards for his students. He and Captain Sam used to teach the young ones together, you know.”

“No, I didn’t,” I replied.

“Yes. They were quite the pair. Anyway, I thought you might like that one because of the dragon on it. Gerwyn would have wanted you to have it, considering the battle you shared before he died.”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” I said, keenly aware of the significance it held. “He was a brave man.”

“Yes, he was. My knight in shining armor,” she chuckled. “But he wasn’t always that way, you know. The Author changed him into the man you knew.”

“How so?”

“Well, you knew Gerwyn as a quiet hero. He served without wanting much in return and I loved him for it. But he wasn’t always that way. There was a time when all he cared about was himself and his addictions. You see, a dragon had deceived him into believing that leech blood would make him more powerful than any other person in the world.”

“Leeches?” I said, thinking immediately of Belac, the troll who had held us captive on my last trip to Solandria. He made Stretch and me leech bait because of his hunger for the leeches.

“Yes. Well, anyway, as the blood began to course through his veins, he did grow stronger and more powerful, but also more dependent on the blood to sustain his very life. To make a long story short, eventually his power turned him into a monster. One day, a group of Codebearers were passing by, and he attacked them with great fury. They managed to capture Gerwyn in his altered state.

“What did they do with him?” I asked.

“They took him to the cleansing pools of Corinin and bathed him in the healing waters, which quenched his thirst and helped to remove the poison from his body once more. When at last he was sane again, they began to teach him the truths of the Code and he committed his life to becoming a Codebearer. When they brought him back to Sanctuary, I met him, and we quickly fell in love. He was the joy of my life from that day forward.”

“Wow, that’s a cool story,” I said. “I never knew he had been through so much.”

“Yes, well, he was a good man,” she added. There was a soft smile on her face, one that was meant for Gerwyn to see. “It just goes to show, you never know who the Author will choose. You may see a monster, but there is often much more than eyes alone can see. But, enough of this; I mustn’t keep you any longer. Your friends will be needing you to return right away.”

“Oh, right,” I said, “but how do I go back?”

“Why, the Flame of course!” she answered.

Instantly, the medallion glowed again and the Flame separated from it. The golden spark floated before me, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. I tucked Gerwyn’s dragon cipher into my pocket and prepared to leave, pausing slightly before taking hold of the glowing ball of light.

“Thank you, Gabby,” I said. “You’ve been so kind!”

She nodded in return.

With that I faced the Flame and reached out to take hold. Just before I grasped the Flame, Gabby called out.

“Remember, Hunter. No matter what happens when you return, no matter how bad things seem, you are never alone!”