THE DIMLY LIT room etched out three shadows, which reflected against the attic wall. Kip and Saleena watched as Skinny Jack climbed down the ladder. When he got to the bottom, he stepped around the broken glass, spun on his heel, and snatched the rolled up paper from Saleena’s hands.
Its texture was coarse with a tint of yellow, but the sheet held its shape without any signs of crumbling. Either the paper had been created with the help of magic, or the glass vial protected it from the negative effects of age. Whichever it was, Skinny Jack was thankful that this valuable clue had been preserved through time.
Ever since he could remember, he had been fascinated with books. So much so that he spent more time studying how they were made, than studying their contents. A long time ago, during one of his father’s few kind acts, the man brought him to the place where paper was made. He remembered gazing, hypnotically at the large stones that rotated and pressed the shredded wood together. The slow and steady movement brought him a rare and pleasant sense of peace and security. One that he would never forget.
The paper he held now obviously wasn’t made of wood. It was composed of grass or another type of plant. In fact, most of the books in the Attic of Elders seemed to be made of this. Just as Traphis’ book on wolvarks had been. If only for this one fact, Skinny Jack knew that the contents on this sheet had existed long before he was born.
“The enemy of enemies,” Skinny Jack said. “This is where we begin.”
“But where do we go to look for the clues?” Kip asked.
“In this room, of course,” Skinny Jack said.
“How do you know that? For all we know, it was written for another room in the WC, or even outside of it. We could be wasting our time here. I think we should keep looking through the books to see if we can find something else.”
Skinny Jack shook his head. “It makes perfect sense. The riddle would be stored where it could be solved.”
“I’m going to keep looking.” Kip stomped away before he had time to object.
Skinny Jack opened and closed his mouth, and then turned to Saleena. “I know you will help me,” he said.
Saleena blinked her third eyelid, rotated her head toward Kip, and then looked back at him.
“Good,” he said, not giving her a chance to respond. “As I was saying, our first clue is the enemy of enemies, what do you think that means?”
Saleena stared blankly at him.
“That’s what I thought too,” Skinny Jack said. “An enemy of an enemy is not a stronger enemy, but an ally. Someone or something that can help us. And who is our enemy?”
Saleena’s short, blue hair stood motionless against her pale skin.
“Tyron, of course.” Skinny Jack bowed and awaited applause. When none came, he continued. “Tyron seems to have been the enemy of the ancients as well. He must be older than any mortal alive. All we need to do is find the thing that can stop him.”
“If that is the case,” Saleena said, “then why did the ancients not use this enemy to rid the land of Tyron long ago?”
“They might have, but somehow it didn’t work, at least not completely. That’s why they left this clue for us. In case it needed to be used again.”
“And it will work now?”
“Of course, we’re here, aren’t we?”
There was no response.
“We can do this,” Skinny Jack said. He unrolled the paper to its full length. “We don’t know what the item is, but the enemy of enemies is what we are looking for. Next, the note says to look for it under a well.”
Kip poked her head through a hole in the bookcase. “Do you see any wells around here?”
“Go back to your reading,” Skinny Jack said.
Kip snickered and withdrew.
“She is right,” Saleena said. “There are no wells.”
“You just have to think bigger,” Skinny Jack said, “or rather, smaller. See if you can find any books about wells, or ones that say wells on them.”
There was some hesitation, but Saleena eventually wandered over to a shelf and began her search.
Skinny Jack went back to the shelf where the vial had been. He climbed up the ladder and shuffled through the first row. After brushing away the dust and scanning the titles, he scooted the ladder over to examine the next grouping. It wasn’t until he went through all of them that he realized his error.
No one would put the clue next to the item, he thought. That would be too easy. I have to look farther away.
With one hand on the ladder, he secured the scroll in his pocket and then slid down. At the bottom, he lifted the ladder and carried it over to the opposite end of the room. Once there, he set the ladder against a shelf and climbed up.
Light from a nearby, frosted window aided in his reading of the titles. Yet there was still no mention of wells on any of them. The closest he found was a book about stone fences that could be magically altered to send off invisible waves of energy, which scared away predators. Had he grown up in the country, this might have been more interesting, but living from one town to the next provided its own unique problems. Most predators stayed away from large populations, but groups of people produced ills of a different kind—of deception, malice, and treachery. At least with beasts he knew what to expect. They would attack and kill instantly, but a human would get to know someone, become a friend, and then stab that person in the back when he or she wasn’t looking.
At least, that’s what he learned from his father. His family had been kicked out of most towns. On the surface, his father ran a delivery service, but in actuality, he was an imposter. He would gain a person’s confidence, and then swindle them out of things they owned. He even went so far as to steal another man’s wife, though Skinny Jack couldn’t complain about that. Were it not for that incident, he’d never have been born.
The book he was holding slipped through his fingers, bounced off a ladder rung, spun through the air, and then banged against the glass window before hitting the floor.
With a curse, he jumped off the ladder and ran to the place where the book had landed. As feared, a sequence of cracks formed on the window in the shape of a spider web.
He was about to curse again when he noticed that the cracks weren’t the only pattern on the glass. Another sequence of shapes faintly appeared through the frost. Its etching was the same white as the frosted covering—which is what made it hard to detect—but smoother and more elegant.
Skinny Jack ran a finger over the long, thin lines. He could make out the shape of what appeared to be a large tree. There were no leaves, only sharp branches, and at the base were large, thick roots, which flowed downward like streaks of water. Above the tree was the shape of a hill followed by distant mountains. A silhouette of the sun crept halfway over the farthest peak.
The marking he noticed the most was to the left of the tree. Large blocks formed the shape of a cylinder, and at the top was a roof with a bucket hanging between two posts. This clearly was a well.
* * *
“Laugh all you want,” Skinny Jack said. “But I found the well.” He leaned over and rubbed the dust off the white outline.
“You located it?” Saleena asked—her mouth nearly touched his ear.
Skinny Jack spun around. “Don’t scare me like that,” he said. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
“Does my stealth worry you?” Saleena asked.
With a roll of his eyes, Skinny Jack lifted the scroll. “Our clue says that the enemy of enemies is found under the well, and the second part says that the water guides a stone that fell.” He tapped his forehead. “The well is just a picture; we can’t see inside it. So how can we find a stone in there?”
Kip snatched the parchment from his hand. “Are you reading this right?” she asked.
Skinny Jack shouted and then said, “I thought you didn’t care about it.” He narrowed his eyes at her.
“It reads: ‘The enemy of enemies, found under the well.’” Kip looked directly at her brother. “Under the well, not in the well, you moarock.”
“Don’t call me that,” Skinny Jack said, snatching the parchment back and inspecting it closely. He hated to admit it, but she was right. It did read under the well, which he assumed meant inside of it because of the mention of water. But if that was the case, then all he had to do was look farther down the glass.
After a long, drawn out examination of the window, he finally said, “I don’t see anything.”
“What does it say to do next?” Kip asked.
Skinny Jack lifted the parchment and read, “The water guides a stone that fell.”
“Look down,” Saleena said.
“I’m doing that, but I don’t see anything other than the roots of this massive tree.”
“It’s the roots,” Kip said. “Don’t you see? They look more like water than roots.”
Skinny Jack tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.
“Move over.” Kip nudged him out of the way. “Look, right there, the roots flow underneath the well.”
“So where is the stone, genius?” Skinny Jack asked.
“Read the next part,” Kip said.
“You move out of the way first.”
“No, you obviously can’t figure this out without me.”
“I was doing fine on my own.”
“At least I know what water looks like.”
“You didn’t want any part of this, remember?”
Skinny Jack sensed the parchment lifting from his fingers.
“The seeker seeks on bended knee,” Saleena read as she held the note in her hands.
With a sigh, Skinny Jack said, “So we need to kneel.”
Kip hesitated for a moment and then knelt down on the dusty floor. A board creek under her knee.
“I don’t see anything that looks like a stone,” she said.
“What do you see?” Skinny Jack asked.
“Just the frosted glass. What does the rest of the clue say?”
“‘What enemy hides and villains flee,’” Saleena read.
“That’s of no use,” Skinny Jack said. “That just tells us the object is the enemy of enemies. We know that already. What we need is to find a stone, under the well, which can be seen by kneeling.”
“Fine, you look,” Kip said. She stood and motioned toward the spot on the floor.
“Finally.” Skinny Jack knelt down, resting his knee against the same squeaky board, and then brushed away the remainder of dust from the glass. “That’s it.” He stood up and brandished a huge smile. “I bet you can’t figure it out.”
Kip looked over at the glass where the dust had been wiped away. “I don’t see anything,” she said.
“Tell me I’m the best brother in the world.”
Kip wrinkled her forehead.
“And that I’m the smartest genius to have ever walked the WC,” he continued.
Kip’s eyes widened to a conspiratorial height and her retinas rolled upward. She then tilted her head and said, “You’re wonderful, now tell me.”
“I guess that will do,” Skinny Jack said. “Look down.”
Both Saleena and Kip lowered their gaze.
“You still don’t get it, do you? Look at the floor.”
“I don’t see anything,” Kip said.
Bending down, Skinny Jack pointed at the squeaky board. “We need to look under there.”
“But where’s the stone?” Kip asked.
“A stone that fell,” Skinny Jack said. “It’s figurative, there’s no actual stone. It just tells us to look down. If a stone fell, it would have landed on the ground, not the glass.”
“That does sound reasonable,” Saleena said.
Skinny Jack’s smile broadened. “At least one of you can recognize my genius.”
“Fine, genius, then how do we look under the board?” Kip asked.
“If you were as smart as me, you would have figured that out already.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Do I have to show you everything?” he asked. “Between the three of us, only one has the ability to pass through solid objects. Or do I have to go back and find an axe somewhere?”
Kip shook her head. “I should have thought of that.”
“It’s all right, not everyone can be as brilliant as me.”
With eyes rolled, Kip formed a golden sheet of magic and strung it between her fingers. She then set it down and flattened it against the wooden floor.
In a blink of an eye, Skinny Jack thrust his arm through the golden pathway and felt around with his fingers.
Kip gasped. “Never enter so quickly; you don’t know what’s down there.”
“Got it,” Skinny Jack said. With arm fully extended, the tips of his fingers looped around a lumpy object. He pulled it upward, lifted it through the magical hole, and then set it on the floor.
All three of them gazed in wonder. It was a box. An elegantly designed box about the width of an outstretched hand and two fists deep. It was silver. The edges were ordained with a crisscross pattern, and the cover raised slightly in the center. Etched into the very top was a tree, similar to the one on the window. At one of the sides, a silver latch held the lid shut tight.
“Open it,” Kip said.
“I am. I just wanted to look at it first.”
“That’s long enough,” Kip said. “I want to see what’s inside.”
“I would as well,” Saleena said.
Skinny Jack rubbed his fingers together. “I guess I’m the only one who appreciates good workmanship.” He gripped the pin between his thumb and forefinger, and with added effect, he twisted, paused, and then thrust the pin out at a great speed. There was a snap as the spring on the hinge engaged.
Saleena and Kip watched like salivating dogs as he slowly lifted the lid. When a crack appeared, a soft, white light streamed through the opening, revealing bits of dust floating in the air. A rush of breath came from the box and blew out at his hair—which would have jostled had he any length to speak of. Then, he extended the lid to its full height.
Lying in a velvety cushion, the object within peered up at them.
Three voices gasped in awe.
* * *
“What is it?” Saleena asked.
“It’s beautiful,” Kip said.
“But what does it do?” Skinny Jack poked the object with his finger. As soon as he did, the item stopped glowing.
“You broke it,” Kip said.
“I did not. I only touched it.”
“Maybe it became dormant,” Saleena said. “I have never seen an amulet like this before.”
“Nor have I,” Kip said. “At least, not one so elaborately decorated. The weaves in the silver are so tiny that I bet our eyes can’t see all the details.”
“It looks similar to the box.” Skinny Jack reached in, grabbed the amulet, and lifted it so they all could see. “Completely silver,” he said, “and heavy too. I wonder what the symbol in the center means.”
“It looks like arms,” Kip said.
“Two arms,” Saleena said. “Grabbing each other at opposite ends.”
“Like a disjointed circle,” Skinny Jack said. “But what does it mean?”
“I have no idea,” Kip said. “Is this really the enemy of enemies?”
“It must be; we followed the clues.” Skinny Jack rotated the oval amulet in his hand, lifted its dark leather strap, and then looped it around his neck. Only slightly smaller than his palm, the amulet rested against his chest. The smooth backing felt heavy yet comfortable.
“Make it do something,” Kip said.
“Hold on.” Skinny Jack closed his eyes and envisioned himself passing through the first magical gate. It only took a moment before he found himself standing in the Blue. White sand surrounded him, as did the blue water only a few steps away.
He wasn’t sure how the Blue worked, but whenever he entered the land of magic, he wore the same clothing he did in the physical world. Not only his clothes, but also anything he was touching. In this case, the amulet.
For some reason, the floor, walls, and other parts of the room didn’t come along. It only worked for objects directly associated with him. Perhaps this had something to do with his memory and what he mentally wished to accompany him. After all, he wasn’t really there, nor was the amulet—they were just afterthoughts in the recesses of his memory, an echo of his true self.
Normally, he liked to toss sand into the water and watch it sparkle and snap, but he realized time was short. With a renewed appreciation for the island, he stepped to the edge and plunged the amulet into the liquid.
He watched in anticipation, picturing a surge of magical energy so strong that it would throw him back. But to his disappointment, nothing happened.
Repeating the process, he lifted the amulet out of the water and thrust it back in. Still nothing. This was unexpected; at the very least he assumed there would be some kind of response.
“I don’t understand,” Skinny Jack said the moment he regained consciousness in the physical world.
“Nothing happened,” Saleena said.
“If it’s magical, shouldn’t it be responding?” Skinny Jack lifted the amulet from his neck and studied it closely.
“Maybe you just don’t know how to use it,” Kip said.
Skinny Jack handed Kip the amulet. “You figure it out.”
She took it, closed her eyes, and after a short time opened them again. “You’re right,” she said, “I can’t get it to work either.”
It was Saleena’s turn next, but she had similar results. The only difference with Saleena was that the amulet had become wet when she handed it back. This, of course, was due to her magic, not anything generated by the amulet itself.
“Well, the important thing is we found it,” Skinny Jack said. “Hopefully, Traphis will know what to do. Now we just have to find him.”