SEVENTEEN

Monday rolled around swiftly, following a quiet Sunday. Thomas took advantage of the day off by sleeping until almost eleven, when the grumbling of his stomach finally compelled him to get out of bed. Food was forgotten almost as quickly as his brain kicked into gear. Today was a teacher training at school, not a holiday. The thought hit like lightning: Mom left for work!

Thomas forced himself to ignore the key shock and disengaged the lock. The cover came into sight and once again the breath caught in his throat. A solitary flower had blossomed into bright, beautiful purple, highlighting a cascade of changes that continued to ripple through the picture. The creature stared out at him, its head now tilted slightly above the increasingly colorful bushes, its eyes curious and intelligent.

Theories flashed through Thomas’s head one after another. Special ink? Three-dimensional imaging technology? Multiple copies of The Book of Sorrows, each with a slightly different cover? Each theory was discarded as soon as it surfaced, leaving the lone illogical answer whispering in his inner ear. He opened the book and didn’t look up again until he’d read the last word. His eyes flitted to the top of the final page.

Then turneth the chief of the warriors of Asharia unto his men and commandeth that they remove from the litters the leaves wherewith they art covered. The leaves art removed, and behold! the air shimmereth with the gleam of metal and gemstones. Yea, not only the lion-beast didst Isham speak into being, but the treasure also; and this have the men brought forth from the lair of their fallen foe.

The voice of all Asharia then riseth up in triumph, for all the men thereof didst return unharmed, and the treasure borne unto the people is truly vast. The destruction of Kala is forgotten by the people of Asharia, but Isham canst not forget; his thoughts o’erflow with innocent blood, and creatures ever more terrible claw at the corners of his mind. Yea, the world without remaineth dark, but the world within becometh darker still.

Thomas read the section again and again. Not only had the lion-beast come into existence, but so had the treasure. Isham’s words literally had the power to create things, to call them into being from nothing but thin air. People had dreamed and written about such abilities since the beginning of time, but nobody had actually achieved them. Had they?

The shrill ring of his flip phone jarred Thomas out of his thoughts. The inbound number was blocked, ruling out his mom and Enrique. He picked up just in time to keep the call from going to voicemail.

“This is Thomas.”

A quiet voice whispered into the other side of the receiver.

“I’m sorry,” said Thomas. “What was that?”

“You have the book,” came the soft reply. The voice sounded muffled, almost disguised. “Is it waking for you?”

The words shocked Thomas’s system, sent a flood of adrenaline coursing through his body. “Who is this?”

“You don’t deny it,” whispered the man. He sounded almost gleeful. “The Sumerian speaks the truth.”

“What? Who are you? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play the fool, boy. You are part of the game now. There is no turning back after entering the arena.” The tone was harsh but the voice strangely resonant. “Tell the alchemist to stay out of my affairs or his time will be ended. Him, or anyone else who stands in my way.”

“Who is this?”

“I’m watching you, Thomas Wildus. We all are.”

The line clicked dead. Thomas’s heart pounded into his throat, which had tightened so much he could hardly breathe. Fear froze his body. Clear thought became temporarily impossible. The caller didn’t just know his name and phone number. He knew about The Book of Sorrows, too, and other things Thomas didn’t remotely understand.

A sharp rapping on the front door sent a fresh burst of adrenaline surging through Thomas’s body. What if he knows my address? What if he’s here right now? The thought sent a fresh wave of terror through Thomas. Fighting wasn’t an option. Not against an unknown enemy. If the person at the door was the same one who had just called, he was going to have to run. He tucked the wooden box into his backpack and tiptoed toward the stairs.

“Thomas? Thomas, my boy, are you there?” The rapping repeated and a deep voice called from the front porch. Professor Reilly.

The air exploded from Thomas’s lungs. The relief was so profound that he nearly sank to the floor. “Just a minute, Professor,” he shouted, trying to compose himself. “I’ll be right down.”

Thomas took deep breaths as he walked down the stairs. He paused in front of the door and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Thomas, my boy! How are you?” boomed the Professor, his bushy beard bouncing slightly.

“Hi, Professor Reilly.” Thomas smiled thinly, sidestepping the question. “How are you?”

“Splendid, as always.” Professor Reilly took a long look at Thomas. “You look terrible, my boy. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m okay,” Thomas replied. “I, uh, I’ve just been upstairs reading all morning. I guess I could probably use a little fresh air.”

“Ha! Well, there’s nothing to stop us from doing our work outside,” boomed the professor. “A little sunshine would do me good as well. That’s assuming you’re ready to dive into the mysteries of life, enlightenment, and the multi-dimensional universe, of course. Are you?”

“Yeah, sure. That sounds good.” Thomas hadn’t expected to start so quickly, but his appointment with Huxley and Adelia wasn’t for a few hours. “I’ve got to be downtown at four o’clock. That gives us about two hours. Is that enough time?”

“For physics or enlightenment?” The professor looked at Thomas, his expression deadpan.

“Uhhh . . .”

“Ha!” Professor Reilly laughed loudly and clapped Thomas on the back. “If I could offer either in two hours, I’d be the richest man alive. Come on. A couple of hours should be plenty for an introductory session. To the great outdoors, my boy. Lead the way.”

Thomas managed a laugh as he led the Professor through the house and down the back steps. Thomas brushed purple petals from the picnic table under the jacaranda tree while the professor pulled out a thick textbook. “What’s that?”

“Physics,” replied Professor Reilly. “Your mom says you’re familiar with a few basic concepts. That’s great, but I’d like to start at the beginning and work our way forward. The advanced stuff won’t make any sense if you aren’t comfortable with the basics, and believe me, my boy, one day you’re going to need the advanced stuff.”

Thomas started to nod and caught himself. He tilted his head and looked at the professor curiously. “Need it for what?”

The big man answered with a deep laugh. “All in good time, my boy. All in good time.”