The Obsidian Crown, page 19
“We will. You’ll see. But really, I’m trying to read this journal, if you have to pace, would you mind doing it on the other side of this fireplace?”
“Sheesh, touchy much?” I smiled, so she knew I was joking and walked around to the other fireplace. “Heelllooo! That’s it! I got it! We are at the wrong fireplace. When we left the Library Triangle, we left through the fireplace facing the great hall which should be through those double doors,” I said excitedly.
“Spectacular! Let’s give it a go!” Hailey said.
We moved to the other fireplace, and I repeated the incantation.
“Woohoo! We hooted and congratulated each other when the fire turned green.
“What do you think, will it work this time?” I asked.
“How else are we going to know?” Hailey said.
“We shrugged at each other, and I said, “Okay, together then, let’s go to school.” We stepped into the fire.
This time around, we were sucked into the vortex of the River of Time. Hailey gave me a high five. After a few moments, we arrived at the Solomon Triangle library.
Hailey gave me the universal “good job” sign by raising her thumbs as we arrived. We looked around and made sure we were at the correct library.
“Success!” she yelled and started to skip forward, then back and wiggle her hips, putting her hands in front and then behind her. “What? It’s my victory dance.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a horrible victory dance.
“Look.” I showed Hailey my phone. “It’s only 8:00 p.m. here. It gives us more time to research. Let’s go get the book. Thank goodness the school is closed. No one will bother us. I’ll get us some food. I’m starving.”
“Sounds perfect. You go to the vending machines and I will go to my locker. Let’s meet here in about ten minutes,” Hailey said. We split up and went different ways.
I was already at the door with my backpack full of food when Hailey showed up with hers.
“Oh no, I left my cell phone. Here hold my pack, I will be right back!” Hailey said.
“Leave it, we might run out of time, we don’t really know how to use the portal. We need to get back to the Sanctuary…” But she had already taken off before I could finish my protest. I followed her down the hallway.
“Hey, wait for me! These are heavy!” I said while following her and struggling to carry the two packs. I saw her round the corner then I heard her curse. “Darn it, I don’t have my key! Hurry up!” Hailey said. I hustled faster to bring her backpack, assuming the key is in there. When from within the dark passage, I heard the booming voice of Detective Dewitt. I slid to a stop, laying the bags down on the ground quietly. Then I peeked around the corner to see what was happening.
“What do you think you’re doing? And who are you talking to?” I saw Detective Dewitt walking towards Hailey from the opposite side of the lockers, followed by Detective Mercado. Even in the darkness, I could see him popping seeds into his mouth, but this time, he just spat them on the hallway floor. Detective Dewitt had his hand on his hips and was trying very hard to tower over Hailey. But she was as tall as him, so it wasn’t working.
“I left my cell phone in my locker, officers,” answered Hailey in defiance and much louder than was necessary for them to hear. I knew it was so I could be warned.
“So you decided that you’re going to break into the school in the middle of the night and open this locker without permission? Mercado asked, spitting out the latest batch of seeds to the side.
“It’s my school, officer, and it’s my locker and it’s my phone!” Hailey answered back, but she didn’t get to finish her defense.
“And it’s after school hours! And you have no permission to be here. What are you really doing here, Ms. Goodson, and where is Abigail Montserrat?” Dewitt demanded.
“Abi who?” Hailey said.
“Don’t toy with me. We know you are now BFFs,” he said using air quotes.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hailey said.
“Well, why don’t you go with me to the station so I can explain it to you and your parents how I caught you breaking and entering into school grounds, caught in the act with the intention of committing burglary. That’s a felony offense and if we find out what you are helping Ms. Montserrat with whatever she’s up to, we can add accessory to commit those crimes as well. How about that for starters?” Hailey didn’t say anything. He nodded at Mercado who then motioned for Hailey to turn around for the handcuffs.
“You are making a mistake. I am not stealing anything!” I heard Hailey’s protests. There was no way to rescue her without giving myself away. I crouched close to the floor to look around the corner, searching for a way to get her out. I could see the officer’s face but Hailey was facing away from me with her hands behind her back. She was signaling for me to run. Then Detective Mercado came around and I saw the glint of silver as he placed the cuffs on her.
No! Please not Hailey, too!” my mind cried out silently.
Instead of the two detectives leading her back where they came from, they took her to the exit door past the hallway I was in. I crawled back to the darkened area, dragging the backpacks with me. My elbows and knees scraped the coarse tiles. Their footsteps sounded like pounding of nails to a coffin as the two detectives marched Hailey past. I was convinced the sound of my blood rushing to my brain and the stampeding heartbeat would give me away. I flattened myself closer to the ground putting my cheek against the rough floor. But there was nothing I could do but hide in the darkness like a coward. I couldn’t afford to get caught, not with so much at stake.
As soon as the exit door clanged close, I rushed to the window. My heart sank to my feet as I watched Hailey being put into the police car. She looked back at the library as the car pulled away. I couldn’t tell the expression on her face.
I clutched onto the window ledge until my fingers started to hurt. I hate those cops! They are worthless! I stood there, unable to move. My mind was racing with what this meant to Hailey. A felony charge would mean she will lose her scholarship at best, and at worst, she could go to jail. Guilt and shame washed over me again. Where does this end?
I stared down at the deserted driveway, lined by the pine trees moonlight making the pavement look like a solid, cold icy river. And for the first time, it hit me just how utterly alone I’d become.
I didn’t try to keep it in. I didn’t try to stop it this time. I let my tears fall unrestrained. I didn’t make any noise but wept quietly for all I lost and for all the ones I have yet to lose. But more than that, for all the things that my loved ones lost and have to lose because of me.
I picked up both backpacks, raced back to the library, and went straight for the second fireplace. “Volvere Sanctorium!” I yelled and plunged into the green fire, not caring where or when it took me. I rode the river frigid to the magic that used to amaze and frighten me.
Rip Van Winkle has no idea how lucky he was to have missed the drudge, and sludge of life so completely.
I emerged from the green fire, walked slowly to the couch and dropped the packs on the floor. Somehow, I didn’t feel so eager to start anymore. Hailey’s absence made the task seem even more insurmountable. The fire has long turned back to its normal color before I had the energy to pull the contents of Hailey’s backpack. I saw the green journal and picked it up. She had drawn a big star on the corner on the page that she shaded with the pencil. The marks are clearly visible now. There were words of incantations and what looked like notations on the left of the words. But I couldn’t even think straight.
I picked up Sir Arcturos’ book of lines and ran my fingers against the beautiful but cold and unfeeling gems of its cover. Hailey had the silver chain bookmark at a certain page. As I pulled on the metal chain, it caught against the open scrapes of my fingers. I winced and stared at the cuts made by the window ledge and the heavy packs. Soon after, the sensation traveled to the fresh wounds on my knees and elbows. Death by a thousand cuts. Is that the Sorceress’ plan for me? Despite the physical pain, something more agonizing set in. The image of Hailey being handcuffed and taken away was a more effective torture.
I sat down closest to the fireplace and let the warmth of the fire comfort me. I was expecting to have a full-on mental and emotional breakdown. I expected an outburst like no other I’ve had before. I expected to go scorched-earth on everything in my path. I thought my heart would give out over the guilt over my parents’ disappearance, forgetting the instructions for the box, losing my old friends, and getting all my new ones into mortal peril. The visions of the doctor’s tortured body kept repeating in my head. I kept hearing Taylor’s sobs over Blaise’s burned and comatose body. And now Hailey. Taylor was right. I am toxic.
But I was fresh out of tears. And what little energy was left in me, I used up hours ago. I had nothing to fight with anymore, yet the anguish continued. My demeanor might have seemed emotionless, but inside, I was a sea of turbulent cries and screams for help. It was so much better when I was able to cry; at least, there was some release to the tightness in my chest and the constant choking in my throat. Now, my body was literally wracked in an internal battle I had no means to win. My hands started to tremble and shake. I was so cold.
The roiling of hopelessness and despair in my soul continued. I wished for everything to stop, for time to freeze so I could mend my broken heart. I wanted everyone to wait, to give me leave, and to console me. I needed people to understand how difficult it is to be me. I wanted everyone to give up what they are doing and focus on helping me cope with my challenges. But there was no one in the room to hear my appeal for pity, for consolation and understanding. There was only me.
I felt spent. I was empty. Then the darkness came for me.
I saw them again, the multitude of people cowering from the power of the crown. There was a congregation of hundreds, maybe thousands, surrounding a throne sitting above a stage, several steps high. Everyone was on their knees, begging to be spared. They were shielding their eyes and faces from whoever was sitting on the throne. Then, the bearer of the crown stood. I could see her very clearly although her back was towards me. Her ashen-gray hair that fell way below her ankles was braided and secured by sparkling diamond stars. On her head sat the Obsidian Crown, throbbing with power, it was skewing daylight around her. She looked down on the people, frigid and devoid of emotion. The dark crown’s sharp and jagged edge glinted in the dim light of the sun. They screamed in agony, they begged for mercy, but she continued to be impassive. I was so close to her that I could almost smell her scent.
I circled around to face her. There was no surprise, no amazement on my behalf. Somehow, deep inside me, I knew what this dream was going to tell me. That she will put the crown on me as punishment. She wore a veil that hid her face.
The King Maker asked me to kneel before her. The people cried louder, shouting for leniency. But I did not cry. I did not beg. I knelt and asked to be given my punishment. She placed the crown on my head.
Then a massive energy burst emanated from the crown. The shockwave spread out like ripples in a pond. The people tried to run, but there was no escape from the Obsidian Crown. I watched as the people touched by the blast disintegrated into dust.
When I looked up to her, she had blood drenching her veil. Then the vision morphed into my reflection in the bathroom mirror, the first time I ever saw the crown. And as I did before, I stood there, staring at my own reflection, allowing fresh blood and water to run down my face.
I woke up to a kaleidoscope of muted colors from my disturbing vision, mixed with fantastical images from the tapestries. I did not know where I was. The dream was so real that I couldn’t quite tell when it finished and real life took over. A quick survey of my surroundings told me that I was in the Sanctuary. But I had no idea what time it was or how long I have been unconscious.
I pushed the journal and the book away. I tried to get up, but my whole body was still shaky, and I had a horrible headache. My stomach grumbled as I sat back down on the couch. I leaned over and pulled my backpack and started to rummage for something to eat. Unwrapping a chocolate bar, I tried to decipher the meaning of the vision.
But the glint of the fire against the gem-encrusted book of lines caught my eye. I took a cursory glance not expecting for anything to happen. To my surprise, the page was readable to me.
How is this possible? Excitedly I reached out for the journal and read through the page while eating my chocolate bar. What was the last incantation I looked at? I found the entry. There was no description of what the incantation does. It just said, “illuminare” and to the left of the spell was the word “blood”. I assumed that is the sacrifice that needs to be made. At least I hoped so because next to that hand-written note was a crude drawing of an open hand. This one, I think, is the necessary action.
I grabbed the book again and opened it where the silver bookmark was. On the right corner, was a smudge of blood from my fingers from when I touched the page. The content was now in plain English. It said The Bearer of the Obsidian Crown. I quickly read the passage from the page and the writing followed exactly what I saw in my dream. Except it didn’t say Abigail anywhere, and I was very glad for that. It just said the bearer of the crown.
I don’t know if it was just a fluke, but I had to find out. I shoved the last piece of the bar into my mouth and gulped down the soda. I looked at the journal again and found an entry for “Combat Strategies and Defenses”. I looked all over the open part of the book and even searched those that were still locked for something that mentioned that phrase, but there was not a section by that name. Staring at the hundreds of books around me, I couldn’t figure out how anyone can find anything in this library. But I had the feeling that the answer was right in front of me.
I read the phrase again. I got up and said, “Illuminare, Combat Strategies and Defenses,” and then I surveyed the room. Nothing changed. I examined the journal again. Right below the word Illuminare was an entry that said, “Library = Golden Book + name of the book”, the word blood, and the palm again. There were thousands of books, many of them had gold gilding, gems, and all kinds of ornate designs. I would never find it in time. I sat back down again. Then I remembered the golden center table in front of the fireplace. There was a massive book on top of it that I had to push aside to place the Kerberian Box when we first came here. I grabbed the journal and ran around the fireplace. There it was, in front of the entrance. I looked at my wounded fingers and said, “Don’t fail me now,” under my breath.
I opened the large book, pressed my hand rolling my wounded fingers on the page for good measure, and said, “Illuminare, Combat Strategies, and Defenses”. The book’s page turned into gold, and the etchings started to glow one by one. Then it opened to the next, then the next. Before I knew it, the pages were flipping so fast I couldn’t see anything except for a blur of gold. It stopped on one page with one etching glowing white. Then the book went back to its normal state.
I wasn’t sure what would happen next. Again, I turn around searching for anything new. I quickly saw a book pulsating orange-yellow on one of the shelves. “Yes! Well, you can’t be more illuminated than that!” I said aloud and picked it off the shelf.
The book was not translated so I looked in the journal. Right next to the words Combat Strategies and Defenses it said, “hair or nails” and an oval with an image of a flame in it.
The front cover of the book had an oval-shaped locket. I pulled a couple of strands of my hair, placed them in the locket but nothing happened. “Oh, this is frustrating. I thought magic is supposed to make things easy!” I said out loud. I examined the locket again and saw the flame sign on it. I grabbed a candle from one of the candle-holders and lit it up. Then I tried it again.
“Illuminare, Combat Strategies, and Defenses,” I said and then lit up the hair. The locket closed on its own, leaving a fleeting wisp of smoke and the pungent smell of burnt hair. Soon I saw the letters change.
I opened the book to the first chapter, and the page was glowing white. Then the letters began to change into English. “Conjuring Fireballs and Practical Exercises”. Before I know it, I was engulfed in darkness once again. When things cleared up, I found myself in a target range, a man was waiting there.
“My name is Dionysios. I run the school’s armory and as the weapons master here, it is my responsibility to teach students Practical Magical Defenses.”
“My name is Abigail. Wait, did you say, school of magic? So are we going to do potions and stuff?” I asked, tentatively drawing from the one and only source of magical knowledge I have, Harry Potter.
“Potions? Heaven’s Realm, no child. That would be useless in a real fight. If that is what you’re looking for, you can check out Spies and Subterfuge or The Subtle art of Assassination and Anarchy. This book is for open combat, and this chapter is for conjuring fireballs and learning how to use them. There are many others in this book but they are all techniques and methods for a face-to-face battle. And as far as the school goes, that’s a long story. We had to close the school under the New Dominion. The authorities felt that it no longer served the needs of the new world.”
“Oh…that’s sad,” I said, imagining a world without schools. “Well, how long is this going to take, because I’m really pressed for time.”
“I need to check your basic knowledge first, then prescribe a learning plan. Then we schedule our first class and then you take exams that you have to pass to get to the next level.”
“What? I don’t have time for all that!” I protested.
He shook his head and muttered something that sounded like “Kids…” ; then abruptly, he said, “Let me see your hands.” I opened up my hands, and he checked my palms.
