Up in the hot, stuffy attic, Andy knelt before the trunk and peered at its contents, praying it held the answer.
Abaddon has overcome the sting of Methuselah once and for all. Imogenia’s comment kept nibbling at the edges of his mind, and he had found it hard to focus on much else since his return from Oomaldee a week ago. The portent had caused hunger to flee, sleep to go AWOL, and a serious case of the grumps to overwhelm him.
King Abaddon, the evil sovereign of Oomaldee’s northern neighbor Hadession, had regained eternal life after walking into the phoenix’s pyre—Andy had witnessed him rise from the ashes. A light-headed feeling engulfed Andy, for Methuselah had been the only way to defeat the nemesis.
Making matters worse, the powerful wizard, Fides, had transformed into Abaddon’s dark assistant in the same flames. It had been Andy’s idea to honor the mage in death, uniting him with the phoenix he had devoted his life to serving, but the sentiment had gone horribly wrong. Somehow, Abaddon had commandeered Fides as he awaited his choice of destination in Cromlech’s afterlife. Having witnessed the wizard’s power while battling Abaddon’s then-mage, Andy knew the sorcerer would be a force to reckon with.
Andy slumped his shoulders, giving in to the feeling of helplessness, then rubbed the back of his neck. How is it even possible Methuselah can’t hurt Abaddon anymore? Andy shook his head. But grandfather agreed with Imogenia. If Methuselah can’t kill Abaddon, what will?
Andy lifted the trunk’s upper tray containing the black leather holster with purple crest, the small parchment decoder scroll, and the unsigned note he had disregarded, precipitating the sudden end of his first visit to Oomaldee. Setting it to the side, he scanned the fifteen scrolls populating the second tray, unsure which one to seek council from.
He found a scroll he had not yet taken time to translate. A detailed drawing filled the bulk of it: a triangle with the gold key, Methuselah, and a ball, respectively, at its three corners. Nope. I don’t think that’s going to help. Moving that aside he found A History of King Abaddon, which he had translated, along with a scroll recounting the history of Hadession and two more about alchemy. While they had proven illuminating in some parts and horrifying in others, they did not begin to answer his current quandary. He set them aside along with the ornate scroll depicting the family tree.
Prophecy of Deliverance. The title halted his rummaging. He pulled the parchment out and secured the corners with Mario Kart and Pokemon Stadium, which stood watch with the rest of his outdated games and game systems at the top of the attic stairs.
Andy began to translate:
The enemy borne from within appears, casting shadows, darkness, and fear.
He avenges without pity,
makes the Land’s inhabitants quake;
chaos and destruction
ravage in his wake.
Blind to the troika’s beacon,
a glow pierces the night.
Light and dark must wrestle long,
the struggle waging strong,
to see which rises victorious,
and whether there’s a dawn.
Andy’s stomach clenched. This is supposed to be a prophecy of deliverance? What’s this even mean? ‘The enemy borne from within’ has to be Abaddon since he was born in Oomaldee, but defected. And he’s definitely caused plenty of chaos making folks afraid. But what’s the troika’s beacon? And it sounds like there’s going to be some big battle with the outcome not guaranteed. Andy swallowed then wiped sweat from his forehead.
“I need some air.”
Andy flipped off the light and descended the unfinished stairs. Cooler temperatures embraced him as he neared the landing, and he let out a breath he had not realized he held. He paused to listen for anyone approaching, but hearing nothing, he pushed open the door.
Mom and Dad’s voices wafted into the hall as he neared their bedroom.
“Moving is not the solution, Fred.”
Andy paused outside their door. Mom and Dad were again discussing a plan Dad had championed since the zolt attack that brought about Andy and Mom’s most recent trip to Oomaldee. Maddy stepped from her bedroom, noticed Andy crouched, and approached.
Andy tapped his finger to his lips and motioned for her to stop on the opposite side of the doorway.
“It took them a year to find us, but I’m sure they’ll hunt us down again and I don’t want to be nomads just waiting…hoping,” Mom reasoned.
Dad objected, “The kids need a secure and stable home. Maddy’s had nightmares. I’ve heard her.”
“But your company…we can’t just pack up and leave.”
“Then what do you propose?” Dad’s voice rose, then dropped as he continued, “I’m afraid for us.”
Madison’s eyes opened wide. This was the first time she had heard their conversation.
One week later, as Andy looked out an upstairs window, he saw a chest materialize in the front yard next to his mailbox. He ran down the stairs and out the front door, swooping to pick up the prize he hoped would bear better news. Mom and Dad were both at work and Madison was out in the backyard reading—he and his sister had free run of the house as they enjoyed their summer vacation.
He dropped the box on the kitchen counter. The delicious smell of warm chocolate chip cookies brought a smile to his face as he pulled up the top.
“Mmm. Thank you, Marta!”
Two envelopes stood behind a stack of cookies. Pulling them out, the first one bore his name in messy printing. Alden. On the other his name appeared in neatly written calligraphy. His heart fluttered like the butterflies that took flight in his stomach. Yara. Andy had met Yara, the princess of Cromlech, during his recent trip to Oomaldee when the healer, Hans, spearheaded a mission to rescue her from Abaddon and his minions. The two future sovereigns immediately hit it off, and more than a bond of friendship took root. There was no contest which letter Andy would open first.
Andy,
You left so suddenly. One minute we were hearing that banshee wail and the next you’d vanished. Alden tried to explain, but I still don’t understand. He said you don’t live here most of the time, but he doesn’t know where you and the queen do live. He also said you probably wouldn’t be back for a year. That’s so long.
“Too long,” Andy agreed.
There’s been no sign of Abaddon, which
surprises me. The King says he thinks he’s preparing an attack or
something sinister. It worries me, but until we know more, there’s
no point in dwelling on it. Well, not much else to report. Write
soon. I miss you lots.
Yara
Andy remembered how she had felt in his arms for the brief seconds he held her while the banshee shrieked. A sigh escaped and he reread Yara’s letter twice before moving on to Alden’s.
Andy,
You sure disappeared quick. Yara was really upset and made everyone freak. It put a damper on the celebration, but I know you don’t control when you come and go. The King tried to reassure everyone and keep the festivities going, but when the queen disappeared, too, there wasn’t much that could be done.
The King tried to hide how upset he was, but I could tell. His smile looked stiff. Hannah says she senses his sadness since the queen left, and that makes her sad, too. You and your mom sure do lead weird lives!
Alden
Andy chuckled at that last comment, but his laughter faded quickly as Alden’s words settled. Yara’s reaction had upset other guests. He reread the princess’s letter, longing again washing over him.
Two weeks later, with a finger marking her place in her latest novel, Madison yelled through the screen door, “Andy! One of those trunks from that place just arrived. Scared me to death.”
Andy scrambled off the stool at the counter where he had been eating his lunch and bolted for the backyard. He immediately spotted the offending chest teetering precariously on the edge of the picnic table where his sister had been reading. It was larger than the boxes Mermin usually sent, yet it still bore the distinctive markings of something skillfully crafted in Oomaldee with its rounded oak top and metal reinforcing bands. Andy unbuckled the leather straps then pulled open the lock that secured the middle. Madison scowled as Andy lifted the lid.
A shiny dome the size of half a soccer ball rested in the straw. The object was familiar and Andy jerked back, suppressing a gasp.
“What?” Madison questioned.
Memories of Mermin’s early attempt at inventing a fog-clearing device flashed through Andy’s mind, chased immediately by images of the hole measuring at least a foot deep and five feet across that the contraption had created when it exploded.
“Nothing,” Andy replied, trying to push his concerns away.
With trepidation, he lifted the device out and set it on the table, then inspected it more closely. The dome bore no marks or other indication of how to operate it.
“What’s it supposed to do?” Madison queried.
“No idea.”
Andy scrutinized it further, but Madison peeked into the trunk and retrieved a note. She began reading:
Andy,
I’ve been working on this zolt repeller day and night since you left, for we are gravely concerned for you and our queen’s safety.
Madison frowned. “What about me and Dad’s safety? What are we, chopped liver?”
“He didn’t mean anything by it,” Andy defended. He held out his hand and motioned for her to hand over the note, but she shook her head, flourished the paper, cleared her throat, and continued:
I’ve tested it the best I can. You’ll understand that an actual field test was not possible, although I do believe it will hold the enemy at bay. I’m working on a smaller unit for personal use but it’s experiencing a few glitches: it keeps zapping me. I’ll send two as soon as I figure out what I’ve done wrong.
Madison again cleared her throat.
Turn it on with the gold key. You’ll also need Methuselah. Once you activate it you can remove the key and your blade. Place the device somewhere near your residence before you turn it on for I fear you’ll be harmed if you attempt to move it after. Good luck, and let us know how it goes.
Mermin
Madison raised her eyebrows and glanced at Andy. “Good luck?”
Andy shrugged then headed inside to retrieve his sword.
He placed the dome near the edge of Mom’s flowerbed, then lay Methuselah next to it. With Madison hovering over him, he tipped it on its side to expose a keyhole in the center of the flat bottom. Andy inserted and turned the key then removed it again. He lay the device in the dirt, grabbed his blade, and stepped back.
A minute passed, then two.
Madison cleared her throat.
“Mermin’s a great wizard. It’ll work,” Andy assured, more to convince himself than the peanut gallery.
Five minutes later Madison’s patience expired and she rolled her eyes. It seemed the cue to make the zolt repeller engage for the sphere popped and sputtered and white vapor began puffing from around its circumference. Madison moved behind Andy and peered over his shoulder.
The cloud grew and quickly enveloped them—it tasted like dry ice. It continued expanding and soon encompassed the porch, then the backyard. It wafted upward, scaling the back of the house, then mounted the roof and moved toward the front yard. Andy raced through the house and out the front door with Madison on his heels. They emerged as billowing white vapor crawled down the sloped roof and dropped like whipped cream onto the driveway, making its way toward the street.
Andy watched the head of a passing motorist jerk toward the spectacle, then heard the woman hit the gas.
The cloud halted its progress when it reached the curb, then rose upward, filling in the area above until a nearly translucent dome arched over the property. Andy moved to investigate.
“I don’t know if I’d…” Madison hedged from the front porch.
Andy strode past the mailbox and up to the barrier. He swung his arm and it passed through cleanly, leaving the wall undisturbed.
“Cool!”
He pranced through it, reached the street, then turned and moonwalked back again. Andy stopped and stood so the wall looked like it cut him in half. Laughing, he did the conga, cutting the vapor curtain.
“If you can walk through it, how’s it supposed to stop those guys?” Madison accused.
“No idea, but if Mermin says it will, it will,” Andy hoped aloud.
Madison shook her head and turned to go inside.
Mom got home after Dad that evening, and once Andy explained the goings-on, she played the message Mrs. Bruce, nosey-neighbor #3 had left on her voicemail earlier in the day. She’d also heard from Mrs. Baldwin and crabby old Mr. Kyle, threatening to call the cops if the unsightly spectacle encompassing their house was not immediately removed.
“We seem to be the talk of the neighborhood,” Mom laughed then looked up at Dad and gave a wink, coaxing the hint of a smile.
He’s taking it better than I expected considering we seem to have become “those” neighbors. Andy grinned.
Two days later, Andy suggested calling Papa Paul’s Pizza to have them deliver lunch. With the trauma of the zolt attack still fresh in her memory, Madison balked.
“Oh come on, you don’t think we’ll be attacked again when the guy delivers it,” Andy campaigned. “Want me to call?”
The threat finally won her over and Madison made the call. As they waited, Andy picked up Mom’s book of riddles from the coffee table. She enjoyed brain teasers, saying they kept her mind sharp—which, considering she was over five-hundred-years old, he could not argue with.
Always old, sometimes new.
Never sad, sometimes blue.
Never empty, sometimes full.
Never pushes, always pulls.
What am I?
“What’s that sound?” Madison cocked her head and closed her eyes.
Andy lowered the book and listened. “Sounds like thunder.”
“But it’s sunny.”
A shout pierced the quiet and they scrambled for the dining room, pulled back the curtain, and peered out into the front yard.
“That’s not thunder! It’s no pizza delivery guy either!” Madison shrieked and raced upstairs, slamming her bedroom door.
Andy grabbed Methuselah’s hilt from the end table in the family room, even though he knew it would not extend, and returned to his lookout post to watch a flock of no less than thirty zolt materialize on the far side of the street, broadswords drawn.
Buy it Now!
Reviews
Be sure to let others know what you thought about
Resurrection of the Phoenix’s Grace, Book 4 in the series. Please submit a review where you bought this eBook.
As an indie author trying to establish myself, it would mean a lot to me.