The Light Bringer's Way Part 9

"And that might explain the rise in albinism here. Biochemists know that exposing developing fish eggs to heavy metals like mercury causes a high incidence in albino fish," Patrick added.

"Something does smell fishy in here to me but we are talking about cinnabar, not mercury," Blair clarified. She sniffed with her nose. Her eyes looked around to try to find the source of the smell. I couldn't smell anything at all.

Patrick smiled and explained, "Mercury is extracted from cinnabar. It is the main source of mercury. Quicksilver, or liquid mercury, is crushed cinnabar ore melted in a furnace. It forms when mercury turns into a vapor."

I had a foreboding feeling about the melting red rock I had seen beneath our feet to get into the chamber. My flight instinct was rising and my chest started to feel tight. I wanted to get out of the chamber but first we needed the ma.n.u.scripts.

Despite my impulse, my intuition signaled caution. Others had been in the chamber long enough to learn the prophecies and spread them to the world but the books remained. It suggested to me that picking them up and walking away was not the answer. Red dust coated the floor around the books and I looked above the ma.n.u.scripts to what caused it. In the ceiling I saw a hole cut out in a square: a murder hole. I had seen them before in medieval castles and fortifications. They were used to pour harmful substances like boiling oil or tar on invaders. Quicksilver or lava also seemed like a potential contender for the list of deadly substances. There was something about the opening that was deadly.

"Patrick, shine your light up above us. I think I see something up there." I strained my eyes to see further but whatever it was was not coming into view.

The light of the flame in Patrick's hand brought to light the murder hole I suspected and a spiked mud ball that hung from a trip wire release. That explained why the books had been left untouched for centuries.

"What the?" Patrick said as he looked at the ma.s.sive and lethal ball. It was designed to swing across the entire portion of the room and was impossible to judge its clearance off the floor. My head started to throb. I pressed through the pain and made myself think. We had to get the books and get out of the chamber.

"That's where the smell is coming from," Blair said. "It's some kind of poisonous gas. It's not the scent of carbon monoxide. I've never smelled it before and that is where the location of the fishy and sulphurous odor is from. Trust me, my family are Cloccan air sentinels. We've got to get out of here. Our air supply will soon be completely toxic," she urged. She pulled her shirt up over her nose. I knew she had a four-pack of hospital-grade facemasks in her bag and was cursing the fact we had left them at the base of the cliff.

My hands were now trembling. My rapid heart rate from my flight instinct was poisoning me faster than everyone else. Reid's heart rate was dramatically lower than mine and it was another way we were complete opposites. Thinking of the difference between us sparked the answer to our escape.

A man could not remove the ancient ma.n.u.scripts because a woman wrote them. What we needed was HER story, but a man picking up the ma.n.u.scripts was what would trigger the trap. I knew what I had to do and this was the moment. I focused my eyes on the ma.n.u.scripts and ran into the red dust.

Chapter Fifteen: A Rightful End.

As soon as my feet hit the dust, a reddish smokescreen kicked up behind me and a metallic burn filled my lungs. Disturbing the fine cinnabar powder on the ground further contaminated our limited air supply and made finding the book that was HER story urgent.

The stacks of books were piled up in the far end of the chamber. The first book I picked up was covered in gold and red rubies and the one beside it shimmered with silver and sparkled with thousands of diamonds. They were heavy in my hands and yet felt empty. I set them back down.

The next book I hefted up was a large text bound in emeralds of a radiant green and its pages were gilded in gold. They were staggeringly beautiful but seemed to be missing something intangible. The books reminded me of the ostentatious mansions vying for attention along the Potomac because they were attractive sh.e.l.ls but hollow inside. That was it, I thought to myself. HER story would be a story of life, and its worth would be on the inside not on the outside.

Time, like the air around us, was growing thin. Blair and Patrick were coughing and I heard Reid furiously gasping my name as he tried to find me. I blocked it from my mind and ears and tried to ignore that my hands were trembling from the noxious fumes.

I pushed through the heavy pile of ma.n.u.scripts and grabbed the next book. It was encrusted with deep blue sapphires and pink pearls. I dropped it to the ground and retrieved another book of purple amethyst and golden yellow topaz. Angry, I seethed to myself that I didn't want a book full of jewels but I needed a book of life. I closed my eyes and grabbed where my intuition led me. Finally, I pulled up a large, thin book. It had a plain leather cover and its spine was made from a tusk of ivory: a book of life and sacrifice.

The cloud of red dust began to clear and Reid's eyes met mine. Immediately, he started running toward me at full speed with Blair and Patrick right behind him across the chamber. The second they touched the cinnabar dust on the ground, I heard the rope that held the giant spiked ball creak. I watched, riveted, hoping that they would make it across the dust. I pressed the book tightly against me. It was all I could manage.

Reid plowed through the distance toward me. My sight blurred. I could not figure out how to move toward the tunnel and my muscles felt frozen. A sluggish thought crawled through my mind that I had been standing in the concentrated toxic fumes of the crushed cinnabar for too long. My will to see Reid, Blair, and Patrick safely out of the chamber was strong and I had to give them the book. I held the precious volume as securely as possible in my arms and I hoped Reid would take it as he ran past me.

Reid's hands compressed down like two iron vices on my shoulders as he picked me up and raced both of us into the middle tunnel. Patrick and Blair pushed into us as we all escaped through the entryway. A great blast of wind blew by the opening as the spiked ball hurtled through the chamber and slammed a heavy wood door shut with a bang.

Behind the door, it was pitch-black. I was not sure if I had been overtaken by the darkness in my mind until I heard Reid's angry voice. "Whitney, do NOT do that again! You make it impossible to work as a team when you are off doing your own stunts! Will you at least tell us next time before you..." The rest of his actual words became m.u.f.fled through the pounding thick sludge in my head. He set me firmly down on the ground and I clutched the large book to my chest to try to steady myself in the darkness. I hoped Reid would stop yelling long enough to realize I was unable to respond. My legs started to buckle and I coaxed myself to breathe in and then breathe out. If I didn't remind myself, I felt like I might forget.

"Patrick, a light please. Something is wrong with Whitney," Reid requested as he lifted me back up. Relieved, I let my head lull against his chest and told myself to just keep breathing. It was my only hope for cleaning out the toxicity in my body.

In the darkness, I could hear Patrick rubbing his hands together to produce a small flame. I saw a flash of light and then Reid knelt to the ground. I was disoriented and confused. Next to us, Blair was in the same position but holding Patrick down as well. Patrick looked as bewildered as I felt. Our confusion was interrupted by a flurry of noise over our heads and loud thunks that pierced the cave walls on either side.

My eyes followed the rush of sound and I saw hundreds of darts quivering into the rock on either side of us. Any person who had remained standing would have been killed. Reid's arms were tense because I started to shake with chills. I didn't know if it was from the near miss or from the poisonous fumes but the shaking was uncontrollable. Reid was taking my vital signs and I could feel the rapid pace of his heartbeat. It was not good news.

Reid pressed me closer to him and everyone stood up. Blair crossed herself and exhaled. "I've never been so glad to see a Cloccan sacred elephant in my life. The elephants in here saved our lives," Blair said to Reid as she rummaged through the backpack on Patrick and pulled out a bottle of water. "That was taking the Code of Albion a bit too seriously for my taste."

Blair brought the water bottle over to me and frowned as she saw my face. I must look pretty awful, I thought through the growing haze in my mind. She undid the cap and helped me take a drink. It was unlike Blair to coddle me at all and this made me comprehend I did not look awful...I must look critically ill.

Her eyes scanned over me and her brow knit into a knot of worry. The fear of failure lurked behind her face as she realized there was not much she could do to help me. Her green eyes saw the edge of the book pressed against me. I weakly tried to show it to her but did not have the strength to fully lift it or say anything.

Blair saw the book and crossed herself again. I was glad she was impressed I had not left the chamber empty-handed. I didn't want her to think I created the smokescreen for nothing. She tucked the book back against me. The shaking subsided.

"Are you going to be OK, Whitney?" Patrick asked as he adjusted the pack with one hand.

"She will be fine. Let her rest," Blair advised. The book felt like a warm blanket across my chest and my breathing became more regular as the cold ebbed away. The air I inhaled now felt good going into my lungs.

Patrick nervously laughed and the flame in his hand flickered with anxiety as we walked down a ramp deeper into the cave. Patrick's voice was shaky as he said, "I had no idea why you were pulling me down, Blair, but thank G.o.d you did. And what the heck is the Code of Albion?"

Reid answered, "Do you remember at Dr. West's funeral when the priest read the Peace Prayer of Saint Frances? You know...Make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light..."

I had not realized Patrick had attended Dr. West's funeral, I thought as Reid solemnly recited the prayer. I recalled how I thought it was a prayer that captured the best of humanity. It was a call to ask the best of yourself and to look for ways to turn a negative into a positive.

"Yeah, I know it. I think my mom has it taped to our fridge," Patrick answered as we descended into an expansive cavern. Along the walls were meticulous white chalk drawings of elephants. Each animal was different and had a particular expression in the eyes or along the mouth that conveyed a sense of intelligence. Even the headdresses of real gems were custom made and seemed special to the elephant that wore it. That's when it occurred to me these were not drawings at all. They were portraits.

"Then you know Saint Francis was the patron saint of animals. The Code of Albion is virtually identical to the Peace Prayer, and Sunrise decided it was more prudent and conventional to use the religious version in public. It is a way of recognizing and greeting the Cloccan tribe. The Code of Albion is linked to three divine animals. As you may have guessed from our surroundings, the white elephant is one of them," Reid explained as we reached the bottom of the ramp. Ahead of us was a life-size replica of a kneeling white elephant made of a milky-white stone. The statue wore a headdress made of diamonds and pearls and exuded a regal air of strength and power. The elephant's eyes were closed and her long eyelashes caught my attention.

"The white elephant is the Cloccan's connection to ancient wisdom," Reid continued. "It is the symbolic remover of obstacles and barriers. Before the razor darts almost popped us like balloons, I was actually relieved to see them. This is a hall I have heard about through Cloccan legend and was built by my Cloccan ancestors. The elephant statue at the altar is made of a rare white jade, a stone imbued with the ability to protect, aid, and heal. She is called Lucie and modeled after a blind white elephant who was known for her ability to help find hidden paths."

The warmth from the book was spreading throughout my body. My lungs could take deep breaths and my muscles did not ache. We needed to get to the Lucie replica and I felt like I was burdening Reid. "Reid, put me down. I can walk," I rasped. Reid answered by tightening his grip and refusing to look at me.

I gave Blair an imploring look of frustration at my captivity. She shook her head no and gave Reid a worried glance. I took that to mean I still looked as awful as I sounded and she was not going to defend my request. I was feeling well enough that I kindled the emotion of frustration, and Reid felt it.

"Not yet, Whit. This room was meant for Cloccans. One of the hallmarks of the elephant is that they walk noiselessly and with exceptional grace and rhythm regardless of what they carry. It's best for me to carry you across." Reid tried to joke even though he didn't smile. Every breath I took with the book on my chest made me stronger. It was acting as a respirator and pain reliever.

It was an amazing book and I wanted to show it to him. I reached up and touched his face to get his attention. Reluctantly, he looked down into my face and he could not hide his sadness. He did not want to look at me because unlike Blair he could not hide his despair or the fact that he thought I was dying.

I wrenched the book free. It did not belong to me. HER story had to get out of the cave and I needed to tell him to get it out of here, even if I did not leave. It was too important.

"You have The Book of Sula..." he whispered in disbelief to himself. "Blair. She has The Book of Sula. It is the Cloccan book of restorative powers. It has not been seen for over an age. But how? THAT is what you pulled from the ma.n.u.scripts?" Reid stammered in disbelief.

Blair walked over to us and looked Reid in the eye. "I know. I would have tried something-anything-but my a.s.sistance and our first aid kit pales in comparison to this kind of Cloccan medicine. There is no better antidote for death than the book of life. I knew it had to be The Book of Sula."

Reid blinked hard. "Thank G.o.d. The legend said the shrine of the white elephant had to be illuminated with the light of a human torch, and a life given its rightful end. I hate to admit it, but I thought you were dying, Whit. If there needs to be an altar sacrifice at the shrine of the white elephant let it be me instead."

We were standing in front of the magnificent white elephant kneeling on a polished black marble platform. A small dagger rested in the curl of her trunk, its black hilt decorated with cairngorm stones. The stones reminded me of the color of Reid's eyes, a smoky-brown quartz color. I noticed one of her tusks was missing.

"Put me down Reid," I commanded. My voice was strong and my body was renewed. I had to get moving. "It's an order." I was prepared to fight my way down if he did not comply and he could tell. He set me down and I took the dagger before Reid's crane instincts could jeopardize his own life. On the ground was its leather sheath. Picking it up, I placed the dagger back inside it and tucked it into the wool sock of my hiking boot. Reid shook his head. "It's pointless, Whit. We cannot get out of here until a life is given a rightful end."

I looked at the beautiful Lucie statue and knew this was the mistake of man. Death was always senseless. She was there to help us find a hidden path and it was her life that needed to be given a rightful end. She needed her dignity restored. I removed the tusk that formed the spine of The Book of Sula and inserted it into the empty s.p.a.ce where it should have been on the statue.

A golden rope ladder dropped from Lucie's jade back to our feet. "Patrick is the human torch. A rightful end of life is not death. It is dignity. Death is not the end," I said as I grabbed the rope. Lucie was about to show us the way out of the cavern and I could finally feel the spear. It was close.

Blair grinned and slapped me a high five. "Good to have you back. That move was totally awesome. Mr. Parks is going to love it. He always said you use tools like no one he has ever trained."

"I have to hand it to you. I thought it would be hard for you to impress me more than finding The Book of Sula. But saving my life and getting us out of here...that pretty much qualifies," Reid said with a sly grin, and his eyes shone. I nodded and accepted his heartfelt compliment.

"Let's say we are even. If it weren't for quite a bit of help, I would not have gotten out of the first chamber. We all have strengths and weaknesses and that's why a team can accomplish so much more than an individual. Together we are better." I winked at Reid, reminding him of what Mr. Parks told us not to forget.

I took the backpack from Patrick and placed the cover and loose pages of The Book of Sula inside, grabbed the rope, and started up Lucie's smooth, hard back.

Chapter Sixteen: Impetus.

Standing upon the statue of Lucie, the way out was clear. There was a platform that led out of the cave but it was too far to jump across and, if we missed, we would land in a river of liquid mercury. Blair, Patrick, and Reid climbed up onto the flat wide back of the Lucie statue. Patrick reproduced the flame of light and said, "I thought you said the white elephant was the remover of obstacles, Reid. It's nice she is giving us a boost but there is no way we are going to make it across that river unless Lucie starts walking. Who knows? Maybe she will. This morning has been totally crazy so I guess I am up for a completely insane afternoon."

Reid looked at his watch. It was thirty minutes until noon and I was positive that was the time of day the spear could be released. Our first goal was to get out of the cave and if we got the spear in the bargain that would be a bonus.

Blair was trying to calculate the distance across the river. "Let me see what I have, Whit." I took the pack off and Blair pulled out some bungee cords and her duct tape. "Lucie is said to help those who tried to help themselves, but we don't have many supplies. We left my long rope at the entrance of the cave."

The word rope stuck in my mind. "Reid, hold up your hand and see if your magnetism can help us find something." We were faced with the same predicament here-we could see the clue but could not reach it. Dr. Cohen's words about the scavenger hunt echoed through my mind when he said Dr. West had to "make it a growth experience." Clearly, Dr. West had wanted us to learn from the hunt so we could use the knowledge later.

Reid held his hand up and this time I felt a vibration. Blair was looking at him intensely and Reid put a finger to his lips. Once again, I felt like I was on the outside of a conversation. Had he done a Cloccan call he had mentioned? There was no time to find out because a swing with a stone seat was coming toward us.

"The seat is made of loadstone. It is magnet.i.te that has the power to attract as well as be attracted. Did you know that was there? I mean, with your intuition?" Reid asked me. He held the swing steady and looked over the thick braided vines.

"Lucky guess. It was something I remembered from our team experience at the Lincoln Memorial. Patrick, you go first. Use the light from your hand to help time your jump and then you can help us all see the landing," I said. "Blair will go next."

Reid pushed him but Patrick made it only halfway across. For the next attempt, Reid directed, "Patrick, pump with your legs and use your weight to create momentum. Once you pick up enough speed to get to the landing-drop. I will be able to bring the swing back." He pushed Patrick as hard as he could and Patrick leaned back to maximize the propulsion of his weight through the air. This time, he glided across the distance and dropped to the platform. A small fire lit the platform as he waited for the rest of us.

Reid brought the rope swing back to Lucie's jade back. He held it steady and said, "Whitney and Blair, you two go together. You will need the weight of both of you to carry the push across. I can bring the rope back with my hand. I will try to run off Lucie's back and use my weight to create enough motion to swing across."

Reid pulled the swing as far back as he could and gave us a hard push. We were flying over the river when I heard one of the vines fray and Blair curse. There was too much weight for the swing. Without hesitation I dropped the backpack.

"The Book of Sula!" Blair gasped as she watched the backpack fall into the silver river of liquid mercury beneath us. I understood that a Cloccan would never have been able to drop the book, but HER story, like a true story of life, did not belong to any of us. Blair did not know that I had seen the pages inside the book and they were blank. HER story was unwritten; The Book of Sula's purpose was to restore life and helped us find the hidden path. It had served its purpose.

My eyes were on Patrick and the platform. I grabbed Blair with my free hand to focus her on the jump and we crashed into Patrick. I could see the river of liquid mercury slinking like a silver snake below us. It was a long way down. We were safe but I had the bad feeling Reid was not. I stayed frozen in place as I tried to figure out why.

"Did I miss something?" Patrick asked Blair as he pointed me. I was as still as a statue as I tried to glean information of the immediate future from the air.

"Not yet. A precognitive can sense danger before it happens, and something is wrong," Blair explained. I took a deep breath and nodded.

In Reid's mind, I could see him hoist himself into the swing after he ran as hard as he could off Lucie's stone back. He was about halfway across when I realized our oversight: the loadstone that helped Reid retrieve the swing would prevent him from making an accurate jump to the ledge. The rock's magnetic force would impact his timing if he didn't get rid of the swing's seat before he jumped.

I pulled the sheathed dagger from inside my sock and handed it to Patrick. "Patrick, please use your best football pa.s.s and get this to Reid. There is not a second to lose," I said urgently.

Patrick extended his hand and held the dagger in his palm to judge its weight. He yelled to Reid to get his attention and pumped his arm to show him he was about to throw something his way. In the blink of an eye, it sailed across the cavern and landed safely in Reid's hands.

Reid had the tool he needed but he did not know what I wanted him to do with it. Thankfully, he crossed into my mind and I showed him my concern. I saw his brow wrinkle in deliberation as he wondered if the magnetic pull would significantly impact his jump trajectory. Impatiently, I stamped my foot in response.

An instant later, one of the swing's vines started to unravel. Dry dust clouded the air as the vine frayed and I could only hope Reid used his few remaining seconds to cut the seat free. Finally, I watched the loadstone seat fall silently into the abyss. Reid emerged holding fast to the remaining woven lifeline. His eyes were focused on the ledge as he calculated his jump and then, unexpectedly, the rope dropped a few inches.

The pressure of Reid's weight was causing too much strain on the withered vines and some were starting to snap from high over his head. He had missed his jump opportunity and we had nothing we could use to catch him. Panic blitzed my mind as I helplessly watched Reid disappear from view.

I looked up and saw the vine breaking free as it writhed through the air. "The rope!" I yelled with enough warning for Patrick to reach out and grab it. Then I heard Reid slam into the cliff beneath us. It couldn't have felt good, but at least I knew he was alive if he was holding the rope.

The braided rope squeaked under the pressure of Reid's weight. He had to get to the ledge before this portion of vine also disintegrated. "Reid! Get up here!" I yelled. "The rope is not going to hold!"

"I'm moving as fast as I can, Florence Nightingale! No time to shake off the ma.s.sive body check I took into a wall of solid rock, I guess. Can't you help a guy out?"

I grabbed onto the rope to help Patrick pull him up. To my surprise, it was as light as air. What had he done? I thought frantically. Had he let go? I dropped to the ground to look over the platform.

"It's nice to know you DO care. At least a little," he said with a grin from under the platform. I felt relieved and angry at the same time and I hated when he did that to me. "Before you get too huffy, I found a golden rope ladder that drops from the platform to this entrance. Look on the bright side, I just saved us some time and aggravation. You all were standing on a dead end."

Patrick and Blair were lying on either side of me and heard what Reid said. Patrick moved toward the ladder and lit it with his hand. "Cool. Talk about a hidden path. This is an almost impossible to find path!" Patrick said as Blair held onto the rope of gold threads and climbed down. I thought about what Patrick said and as I went down the ladder I realized it WAS probably impossible for someone who was not Cloccan to find. Was there some kind of infrasound coming from under the platform?

Patrick joined the three of us and rubbed his hands together. In front of us was a large tunnel and its ceiling was lined with several bronze bells in a variety of gigantic sizes. I was wary this was another Cloccan test. "Before we go in, do either of you have any insights about the bells?" I asked Blair and Reid at the entrance. "Cloccans use bells to communicate, right? This must have something to do with that."

"I think these bells have a legitimate purpose. When Blair and I stepped on the stones in the first chamber with the ma.n.u.scripts, it set off a Cloccan call for aid deep within the cave. These bells may be housed here for signaling purposes connected to other areas of the cave or region. There doesn't seem to be anything malicious about them." Reid started down the path under the bells.

"Yeah, why would I ever think that?" I muttered sarcastically as I looked at the first bell's green patina under a coating of grime. Going under it, I saw the bell's inner depth of darkness and its heavy clapper. The bell's sheer size must be how it achieved such low tones. At the end of the path, Reid turned the handle of a plain wooden door and found it was locked.

"Knock-knock. Can I get a who's there?" Patrick said into the wood door. "Oh, I get it, the joke's on us." He banged the door in frustration. We were all feeling tired and irritated.

"Maybe you are onto something, Patrick," I said, remembering the castle murder hole from the first chamber. "A sanctuary knocker was used outside of cathedrals to provide asylum to anyone who needed protection during the Middle Ages. These doorknockers sometimes used a series of bells to signal arrivals over a great distance. They were the original doorbells. No one gives much thought to doorbells today but what if the door is locked because we need to find a door knocker or a doorbell to enter?"

Blair had found an ornamental ring on either side of the door. Patrick brought the light over and we could see a rope was attached to each end of the knocker. The knocker, when used, would ring one of the bells. Patrick held up his hand to allow us to follow the rope to see which bell it went to and that was not all he spotlighted. Blair saw the skeletons first and gasped. On either side of the path were piles of bones of bodies that had decayed long ago.

"Don't move in case this door threshold is spring-loaded. We need to keep our weight on the platform. If it shifts, I have a feeling we will topple into that ditch full of bones," I said. My heart was racing. "Reid, see if you can feel anything from the rings. Maybe there is a clue for empaths."

Reid ran his forefinger over each of the tarnished bronze circles. He shook his head that there was no clue. Patrick threw up his hands and I could see sweat on his brow as the light flashed by his face. He sputtered, "Oh great. So we are standing on a ticking time bomb! How are we going to pick the right knocker? Eeny, meeny, miny, moe?"

"Patrick, we must stay calm and think. We need to figure out what bell communicates the right message," Reid said as he tried to follow the line of the other ring with his eyes. It was useless. The bell at the end of that rope could not be seen through the darkness.

I looked at the knocker whose rope disappeared into darkness. It connected to me. Reid gave me a quizzical look to explain why that would be my choice. "Queen Juliana said in her dedication of the Netherlands Carillon that to achieve real harmony, justice should be done also to the tiny voices, which are not supported by the might of their weight. She said MANkind could learn from this. Reid, I think it is part of HER story that bigger is not always better. It is the quality, not the quant.i.ty. Blair, use this knocker. It is a leap of faith that it must go to the small one."

I stepped aside. Blair took a deep breath as she picked up the ring.