The Prince Warriors and the Swords of Rhema Page 8

  “Flesh and blood?” asked Brianna. “I got an instruction on my phone about that this morning when I woke up.” She fished out her phone and opened the page. “Here it is: Do not fight flesh and blood. Fight the darkness in the unseen world.”

  “Exactly. Remember that. Stand your ground. Be brave.”

  Mr. J. Ar and Rook demonstrated a Forger attack, with Mr. J. Ar pretending to be the Forger. The kids thought it was hilarious, even though Mr. J. Ar was trying to be really scary. Then they broke up into groups again and practiced Forger-fighting techniques.

  During their break in the main room of the Rec, Brianna brought up the subject of the skypods.

  “They found two more,” she said. “One at the high school football field and one in the grocery store parking lot right in town!”

  “Oh, no!” said Ivy. “More of them? It’s an epidemic!”

  “They’ve figured out the skypods aren’t bombs,” said Xavier, who had been watching the news nonstop since the story broke. “Something about the size and weight of them. And they are organic, even though no one can figure out where they came from.”

  “My dad is really excited,” Manuel said. “He got a phone call yesterday from the agency that is handling the skypods. They want him to come and examine them personally. Because he’s a geologist, I guess. And a professor at the college.” Manuel sighed. “He’s going over to the high school this afternoon. I haven’t seen him this energized in a long time.”

  “You should go with him,” Xavier said. “Will he let you?”

  “Maybe. He usually likes to work alone, but I’ll ask,” Manuel said.

  “Great. Let us know what he says about it.”

  Manuel nodded. “I will.”

  * * *

  Evan tried to concentrate on the sword fighting when they started practicing again, but his mind kept returning to the skypods. He felt responsible. He had to undo what he did, somehow. But he had no idea how. He wished Ru would call them back to Ahoratos, so he could ask him.

  He knew there was a way to get to Ahoratos without being called by the Crest, but he didn’t know what it was. Mr. J. Ar knew, and Rook knew, because they both went to Ahoratos whenever they wanted to. But they hadn’t told the kids yet. It seemed to be some deep secret that “they had to figure out for themselves.” As usual.

  “Time for some practice bouts,” Mr. J. Ar announced suddenly, calling all the kids together. “Pair up: Finn and Xavier, Manuel and Ivy, Brianna and Levi.” Mr. J. Ar paused, realizing Evan was left out. “Evan, how about you spar with Rook?”

  Evan nodded without energy. He followed Rook to a corner of the gym so they would have some room to work. Rook got into his sparring stance, but Evan just stood there, looking at the floor. Rook relaxed and bent down to see Evan’s face.

  “You okay, kid? You look worried about something.”

  “Uh, it’s nothing.”

  “And by nothing, do you mean the pods coming through a portal you might have opened?”

  Evan stared at Rook. “How did you—?” Then he shook his head. Of course Rook knew. Evan had almost forgotten how Rook had been there the whole time; he’d protected Evan from the Ents in the Quaritan Field. He’d probably known all along that Evan had that key in his pocket, which had made him a prime target for the enemy.

  Evan sighed. “It’s my fault that those pods are here. I need to get back to the Cave and talk to Ru. I need to find out how to get rid of them. Before something terrible happens.” He raised pleading eyes to Rook. “Can’t you show me how to get there? Please?”

  Rook took a breath, thinking it over. “It’s really not up to me to tell you that. If Ruwach hasn’t told you yet, it’s because you don’t need to know yet. And anyway, the best thing for you to do right now is the assignment that Ruwach has given you: learn to use your sword.”

  Evan nodded. “I guess so.”

  “So,” Rook said, raising his sword again. “Let’s practice.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Fact or Fiction

  Manuel rode with his father to the high school, where the latest skypod had been found. He was relieved his father had allowed him to come along. “They will think you are too young, so I will tell them you are my assistant,” said Mr. Santos. He seemed more like his old self, laughing and even joking with Manuel. For the first time in a long time he was really excited about something.

  Manuel held half a dozen field manuals in his lap that his father had insisted he bring along. Mr. Santos did not care much for computers or other “newfangled” gadgets, as he referred to them. He loved his dusty old books.

  Manuel opened the top book and glanced through it. His father’s writing was everywhere—notes in the margins, cross outs where he had rewritten a sentence or a description under a picture. Obviously Mr. Santos didn’t agree with the author of the book on a few things.

  Manuel noticed the book in question dealt with meteorites and other “space rocks.”

  “Do you think it’s a meteorite?” he asked his father.

  “It does not look like any I have seen,” Mr. Santos said as he drove. “A meteorite of that size would have created a huge crater in the earth upon landing, but this rock is just resting on the ground. The largest meteorite ever found on earth was nine feet long and weighed sixty-six tons. This one is twenty times that size at least. How could it just have fallen to the ground without creating a crater? I do not understand.”

  “Maybe it’s a porous rock,” Manuel suggested. “That would be much lighter.”

  “Impossible,” said Mr. Santos. “Unless it came from a volcano. And the nearest volcano is two hundred miles away.”

  “You’re right,” said Manuel. It had been a long time since he and his father had had a conversation like this. Manuel missed that. They used to talk about rocks all the time. From the time Manuel could walk, his father took him on mineral and geode hunts all over the country. They even went gold prospecting once. Mr. Santos taught Manuel how to spot veins of gold and silver in granite. How to tell different types of quartz. If his mother was with them, she would talk about the plants they saw along the way and how some plants could actually grow inside the tiniest cracks in rocks. Sometimes they stayed out for so long that Manuel would complain that he was hot or tired and wanted to leave. Now he wished he could go back, just once more.

  Mr. Santos had to park pretty far away, because the whole block was jammed with government vehicles, news vans, and police cars. The police had set up a cordon to keep curious onlookers away from the mysterious rock. A very tall fence made of plastic had been erected around the whole site, although the pod was so huge that most of it was still plainly visible.

  Mr. Santos pulled into a convenience store parking lot and grabbed his bag of tools—hammers, chisels, and a Geiger counter. He exited the car and hurried over to the high school. Manuel, carrying the books, struggled to keep up. A policeman stopped them at the yellow tape line.

  “I’m sorry, sir, this site is off-limits.”

  “My name is Aarón Santos. I am a geologist. I was called here to examine the specimen.”

  “Okay, just a minute, I’ll check,” said the cop. He turned away and clicked on his shoulder radio, talking for a minute and listening to the response. Finally, he turned back. “Someone is coming to get you,” he said.

  A minute later, an older man in an official looking jacket came running over to the taped line. “Ah, Mr. Santos!” he said, waving a clipboard around like it was a conductor’s baton. “Thank you for coming! Come through, please! Let him through!”

  Mr. Santos and Manuel ducked under the yellow tape and entered the enclosure. Manuel suddenly felt very important to be “inside” where the action was.

  “I am Joseph Von,” said the man with much excitement. “We spoke on the phone.” He shook Mr. Santos’s hand vigorously. He was much shorter than Manue
l’s father, with a thick mustache and bushy eyebrows that wiggled about like frantic caterpillars.

  “This is my son, Manuel,” said Mr. Santos. “He’s quite a good scientist himself.”

  Manuel beamed up at the man, pleased his father had complimented him. He didn’t do that very often. “How do you do?”

  “Nice to meet you, Manuel. That is a lot of books you are carrying.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mr. Von gave him an indulgent smile and turned back to his father. “Mr. Santos, we have determined that the specimen is not radioactive. We’ve had zero readings on our Geiger counters. Nor can we find any evidence of a biohazard threat. But we still know nothing of its composition. We need you to tell us if it is indeed extraterrestrial. As a precaution, we will have you put on a hazmat suit. Perhaps your son should wait here. . . .”

  “Please let me come,” said Manuel, fearful that he would be left behind. “I can wear a suit too. Please, Papá.”

  “Fine, fine,” said Mr. Santos. “It will be a good experience.”

  Another official brought hazmat suits for Manuel and his father. Manuel set the books down so he could put on the suit. He decided to leave the books behind as they proceeded inside the plastic fencing. They were getting a little too heavy anyway.

  There was the rock, the skypod, standing before them. Manuel had never seen one up close before. It was so much bigger than it looked when it was actually in the sky over Ahoratos.

  Mr. Santos approached the rock with caution and ran his hand over the surface. It was lumpy but overlain with a smooth coating. It reminded Manuel of a peanut butter ball dipped in chocolate, like the ones his mamá used to make. Mr. Santos opened his bag of tools and took out a chisel and hammer. He set the chisel against the rock and hit it with his hammer several times, but he could not even make a dent in it.

  “Hmmm. Extremely dense. Which is consistent with a meteorite,” he said, talking mostly to himself. “The surface is smooth, almost shiny—caused by the outer layer melting when it comes through the atmosphere.”

  “So it is a space rock?” said Mr. Von hopefully.

  “I can’t say for sure yet. We must discern the composition. All meteorites contain massive amounts of iron.” Mr. Santos pulled a large magnet from his bag and held it to the rock. But the magnet was not attracted at all.

  “No attraction, therefore no iron,” said Mr. Santos, his eyebrows knitted together. “Very strange. I would suggest taking a core sample.”

  “You mean—drill into it?”

  Manuel whirled around to his father. “No, don’t do that!”

  “Manuel, do not interfere.”

  “No, Papá, seriously, don’t drill into that rock.”

  Mr. Santos looked at his son curiously. “Why not?”

  “Because—it might be dangerous. There might be something dangerous inside.” Manuel felt the panic rise up to his throat, remembering what he knew about the skypods being filled with Ents.

  “Nothing organic could possibly survive inside a solid rock,” said Mr. Santos. “You should know that, Manuel.”

  “What if it isn’t solid? What if it is hollow? Like a geode. That would explain its apparent lightness—”

  “You know as well as I do, Manuel, that meteorites are far denser than earth rocks,” said Mr. Santos with a growing edge in his voice. “This rock definitely came through an atmospheric barrier. It is not of this earth.”

  Manuel struggled for some other excuse to delay this operation. “But you would need a very powerful drill—this rock is too hard for an ordinary drill.”

  “Yes, we will need some very heavy-duty drilling equipment. But there are companies that specialize in such things. Like the drill that was used to free those men trapped in the collapsed mine a few years ago.”

  “Oh, yes, I remember that story!” said Mr. Von. “Quite remarkable. I will make inquiries.”

  “I doubt there are any in this area,” Manuel said.

  Mr. Santos ignored him. “Check with the local quarries. They may have a truck-mounted drill available. They would need at least a five-inch drill bit. Bigger, if you can find one.”

  Mr. Von pulled out his cell phone and began talking into it. “We need to get a drill, as big as you can find. . . .”

  Mr. Santos left the area and returned to the place where they had put on the hazmat suits. After they had taken them off, Manuel picked up the pile of books and followed his father back to the car, all the while wondering what to do now.

  Ruwach, please, help me! He knew that somehow Ruwach could hear his unspoken plea.

  “Papá, can I talk to you about something?” he said finally. Mr. Santos turned to look at him, a trace of annoyance on his face.

  “What now?”

  “That rock—haven’t you seen it somewhere before?”

  “Seen it somewhere? In one of my books, you mean?” He pointed to the pile of books Manuel held.

  “No, not these. In—the Prince Warrior book.”

  Mr. Santos said nothing, a strange look spreading across his face.

  “Papá, it’s a skypod! From Ahoratos!”

  Manuel could not tell exactly what his father was thinking. But he knew his father understood what he was talking about.

  “Nonsense,” Mr. Santos said, turning away. “All that is nonsense. Fairy tales. Your mother—”

  “What about Mamá?” Manuel said. “She told you, didn’t she?”

  Mr. Santos paused, at a loss for words. Then he quickly walked to the car without answering.

  * * *

  As soon as he got home, Manuel texted Evan and Xavier to tell them what his father was planning to do with the skypod. Xavier, who must have had the phone that the two brothers shared, replied back immediately: We can’t let that happen.

  Manuel knew this. But how could he stop it from happening? Could he go up against his own father, let alone a government agency?

  Manuel thought about his father’s reaction at the mention of the name Ahoratos. There had been disgust in his eyes. But fear as well. His father was a good man. He was very smart. Yet he had changed the Prince Warrior book. Made corrections to it. Mr. Santos didn’t believe in the Prince Warrior book. He thought it was a fairy tale. He didn’t believe in Ahoratos either, even though he knew all about it. How could he know and not believe?

  Manuel loved science more than anything. He loved forming a hypothesis and working toward proving it by the scientific method. He loved rational explanations for things that made sense according to the laws of nature.

  And yet, he had been to Ahoratos; he had seen things he could never explain with science alone. A tiny seed that stopped the destruction of the terrible flaming Olethron. Water that led to a dry, mysterious cave. Boots that sprouted spikes. A mountain that breathed. Ruwach himself, a smallish, otherworldly being who had given Manuel and his friends purpose and courage and power. Ahoratos was a real place. And the enemy was real too.

  But Manuel’s father dismissed this power as a fantasy. Perhaps because it had failed to save his mother.

  Manuel pulled his Prince Warrior book from the shelf and opened it. He looked through the gilded pages, marveling at the beautiful illustrations. He wondered why his mamá had died. She’d been sick for a long time. But couldn’t the power of the Source—the power that had stopped the Olethron and the Ents—and the wisdom of Ruwach have stopped her sickness too?

  Suddenly his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, surprised to see the UNSEEN app already opened, with a message on the screen:

  Lean not on your own understanding.

  It was as if Ruwach had heard his question, even though Manuel hadn’t spoken out loud. He felt a certain peace in the words, despite the fact that his heart still ached for his mamá—and for his papá too.

  “If only I could help my papá,” Manuel
whispered aloud.

  A voice in his head whispered back to him:

  You will.

  CHAPTER 13

  Viktor

  Xavier’s lunch table buzzed with the latest theories about the origins of the mysterious rocks. Xavier listening quietly, eating his fried bologna sandwich layered with cheese, lettuce, and tomato—the same sandwich his father always ate when he was growing up. At least, that’s what his father always told him.

  “I think they’re spaceships,” said Eddie, the kid with the freckles. “Disguised as rocks. So they can observe us without us knowing about it.”

  “Spaceships don’t look like huge rocks,” said Carleen, twirling one of her braids between two fingers.

  “How do you know? You ever seen an alien spaceship before?”

  “My dad says it’s a government cover-up,” said Kevin, the class know-it-all. “Like Roswell. Pretending there are aliens to hide what they’re really up to.”

  Xavier didn’t say a word. He couldn’t tell these kids that he knew what the rocks were. And that he knew how dangerous they were. They wouldn’t believe him anyway.

  He wished Ruwach would call them back to Ahoratos so they could figure out a plan for getting rid of the pods before Mr. Santos started drilling. He didn’t understand why Ruwach hadn’t done that yet. This seemed like a bigger crisis than all the previous ones put together.

  “You trying out today?” asked Eddie. Xavier realized he was talking to him. “For the basketball team?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  Eddie shrugged. “Yeah. Probably won’t make it though.”

  “Why? Is the team that good?”

  “Yeah, pretty good. We went all the way to the finals last year. Didn’t win though. Coach really wants a championship.”