The Legend of the Rift (6 page)

T
ORQUIN'S BREATH WOKE
me up. On the negative side, it smelled like a freshly killed hedgehog. On the positive side, it was the first indication that I was not dead.

As I turned my head away from the stench, I realized five things:

1.
I was out of my dream, where I was about to be attacked.

2.
I was back in reality, where I had been attacked.

3.
Old Until-Recently-Red-Beard-but-Now-Beardless was carrying me up the stairs. Fast.

4.
The sack of shards was still wrapped around my right arm, and

5.
As far as I could tell, my body was bullet-hole free.

“Landed very hard on you,” Torquin said. “Sorry. Bullet was close.”

Holding me like a loaf of bread, he crested the stairs and burst into the hospital room. Brother Asclepius was hunched over Marco, but he spun toward us, startled.

“Step aside,” Torquin said. “We cure him now.”

Behind us, footsteps clattered up the stairs. Asclepius blinked his eyes and stammered, “I—I'm sorry, but Marco is . . . he's . . .”

Torquin set me down on my feet at the side of Marco's bed. The guards were now at the door, but I didn't care. As I stood over my friend, I felt as if the air had been squeezed out of the room. Marco was faceup, staring straight into the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. His skin was a sickly alabaster white. A tangle of tubes, bandaged to his arms, led to a bank of monitors. All of them were beeping angrily. And showing flat lines.

Which meant no heartbeat. No vital signs. His chest was absolutely still.

I was only vaguely aware of Aliyah ordering her guards to put their weapons away. Eloise and Cass were walking toward me now. “Is he . . . ?” Eloise asked.

Brother Asclepius put a hand on my shoulder. “I did as much as I could. . . .”

I wasn't hearing them. Wasn't listening. Instead I
yanked open the backpack, dug my hands into the debris, and pulled out one of the shards. Its edges were sharp, and they cut my finger. But it was at least four inches across.

It was all we needed.

“Jack,” Cass said, “it's not going to—”

I jammed the shard flat-side down, on Marco's chest. “It's bigger than the one we used on Aly,” I said.

“But Aly was alive,” Cass said, his voice muffled with falling tears. “The person has to be alive.”

Closing my ears. Not hearing this . . . not hearing this . . .

I pressed harder against the still chest. “Come on, Marco . . . come on . . .”

The doctor was trying to pull me back, holding my arm firmly. “Jack, listen to me. It's too late.”

I felt a buzz in my head, maybe from one of the alarms. Sweat ran down my forehead, stinging my eyes. The shard felt warm now. The cut on my finger bled onto Marco's shirt. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Aliyah approach. I must have barked at her to go away, because she stopped short.

“How long has Marco been dead?” Aliyah asked.

“Almost two minutes,” Asclepius replied.

“Let go of the boy's arm, Doctor,” she said. “Do not try to pull him away from his friend.”

“But—” the doctor protested.

“I said
let go
, Asclepius!” she snapped.

The doctor's fingers loosened. Now Cass and Eloise were by my side. Cass put his hand on top of mine. My fingers were cramping. I felt like the shard was burning a hole in my palm. It was shrinking like the other shard.

“It's . . . almost gone, Cass,” I whispered.

Cass tightened his fingers around my hand and lifted it upward. “We need it, Jack,” he said.

It went against every ounce of my will, but I let him do it. The shard had embedded itself in my palm. It was now the size of a nickel.

“It's not going to work this time, Jack,” Cass said softly. “Marco's gone.”

I slumped back. I turned from the sight of Marco, still and unbreathing. I knew it was something I could never unsee. Cass was right. This was a Loculus of Healing, not a Loculus of Resurrection.

But my brain was pulling up another image of Marco, just as painful. I'd seen him like this before. Worse, really. Crushed and damaged almost beyond recognition.

“Resurrection . . .” I whirled on Cass. “We can do that, Cass.”

“What?” Cass said.

“Think back!” I said. “Marco fell into the volcano. But we brought him back—and we can do it again.”

“The waterfall!” Cass said, his frown vanishing. “Of
course. We have to get him there now!”

Brother Asclepius gave Aliyah a confused look.

“The healing waters,” Aliyah explained. “They're in the center of Mount Onyx. They work for Select. Jack is correct. We must help them do this.”

I couldn't believe my ears. “Did you say you'll
help
?”

Her eyes were moist as she looked down at Marco's body, and for a moment I could almost see that she was human. “To bring a boy back from the dead . . . this is an extraordinary thing. The problem is, it is quite dark outside. . . .”

“Don't need you,” Torquin said, holding up the backpack that contained the two Loculi. “Have flight reservation. Invisibility class.”

Torquin's broad frame was blocking Marco's bed now. Aliyah eyed the backpack with shock. “The Loculi?” she said. “I will take those.”

“I thought you said you would help!” Cass protested.

“Do not make this difficult,” Aliyah snapped. “You stole those and I will have them back before another step is taken. Torquin, I will count to three and you will hand that pack to Manolo.”

Torquin raised a hairless eyebrow. “Or?”

“One . . .” Aliyah said.

Manolo signaled the goons. I could see them grabbing their weapons.

Torquin yawned. “Two. Three. Come and get me.”

But before anyone could move, Brother Asclepius collapsed to the floor with a dull thump. Torquin spun around. He let out a choked gasp and nearly dropped the backpack.

As he backed away from the bed, the corpse of Marco Ramsay stood straight up. “Sorry,” he said, staring down at the doctor. “Was it something I ate?”

“M-M-M
ARCO,”
C
ASS SPLUTTERED.
“Y-y-you were—”

“Is he—?” Eloise squeaked.

“Are you—?” I said.

“Hungry?” Marco said. “Yes.”

Eloise let out a screech of joy so loud that it brought Brother Asclepius back to his feet. She leaped on Marco's bed to hug him.

Cass jumped around the other side, shouting,
“Elbaveilebnu!”

“I'm—I'm so sorry,” Asclepius babbled, staring at Marco in astonishment. “This sort of thing has . . . never happened.”

It
was
unbelievable. Marco had beaten death. Again.

“Welcome back,” I said, “to the kid of a thousand lives.”

Marco drew me close, nearly smothering me in the crook of his neck and shoulders. “Whatever you just did, Brother Jack,” he said, “thanks.”

I wasn't sure what I'd done.

As Cass sat on the side of Marco's bed, launching into a blow-by-blow description of what had just happened, I pulled back. Turning my hand upward, I stared at the nickel-sized Loculus in my palm. What
had
just happened?

“Extraordinary . . .” came Aliyah's voice. I felt her hand on my shoulder. She was by my side, smiling at Marco.

The backpack.

I eyed the pack with the two Loculi, which lay on the floor. With my foot I carefully slid it across the room toward the window.

But no one seemed interested in it at that moment.

“You knew, didn't you, Aliyah?” I said. “You asked how long he'd been dead. The length of time somehow made a difference.”

Aliyah turned away. “There have been reports throughout history of people brought back after they were declared dead. The public goes wild over these phenomena, calling them miracles, divine intervention, blah, blah, blah. But this kind of thing only happens within a few minutes after breathing stops. The human body goes into a temporary
sort of limbo state . . . a reversible coma. This is when people report seeing white lights, angels and cherubim, celestial music, and so forth. With someone as unusually strong as your friend, I imagine this state lasts longer than most. At least . . . I hoped it would. So I asked the doctor to leave you to your devices.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

When she looked at me again, her eyes had changed. They were softer, unguarded. “I am moved by your dedication. And your brains. I wish I had known someone like you when I was younger.”

I nodded, remembering the story she had told me in her office. “You lost your brother . . . Osman.”

“You have an admirable memory,” she replied.

“To Queen Artemisia, at the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus,” I went on. “Osman was a Select.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I did not inherit the gene myself.”

“Were you searching for the Loculi back then?” I asked. “Have you known about these from the beginning? Because I thought only the Karai Institute knew—”

She nodded. “As I watched my brother descend into the underworld, I had the Loculus of Healing in my hand. But I didn't know what it was. I was so young. Later it was taken from me by a scheming colleague of my father's, and I never saw it again. It is very moving to see it now, even if it is in pieces.”

I let the shard drop back into the sack. We had used two shards for healing, and they had both shrunk. How was I supposed to put together a Loculus now? It would be like a jigsaw puzzle with two shrunken pieces. When it was all done, there would be holes.

And a Loculus with holes is not a complete Loculus.

“Who-o-oa, who invited Medusa and her Gorgoons?” Marco's voice boomed.

“I guess he just noticed you,” I murmured to Aliyah.

“Good to see you, Marco,” Aliyah said uneasily. “I mean that.”

Marco raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I'm waiting for the but,” he said. “Like, good to see you, but you're under arrest for treason and sentenced to death by quicksand—”

“Considering your betrayal of me and my organization?” I could see Aliyah trying hard to hold on to her authority. “Appropriate measures will of course be taken, in the fullness of time.”

“Aliyah, why let me bring Marco back to life just to punish him?” I said. “You need him. You need
us
. You are now on the road to defeat. The island is tilting, not rising. What's happening to the geological plates now? Did your experts tell you?”

Aliyah nodded. “They said the whole thing may slide into the ocean. . . .”

“So there's not much time,” I said. “Leave Marco alone.
We need him to the find the Loculi. And let us work with the Karai rebels. They're scientists, doctors, tech geniuses, Loculus experts. People who could help you. People who know stuff you don't. People who want the same things you do—”

“The same things?” Aliyah shot back. “These are people who want to destroy the Loculi—just as Karai wanted.”

“No, no,” I shook my head. “They want to find the Loculi, to save the world . . .”

“P. Beg never said
that
,” Marco remarked.

“There was a lot Professor Bhegad never told you,” Aliyah said.

Marco and Cass were looking at me in bafflement.

My mind was total chaos. Was this true? Did the Karai want us to collect the Loculi just to blow them up? Were they lying about wanting to cure us?

Focus, I told myself. She can spout lies, too.

“What aren't
you
telling us, Aliyah?” I said. “Why do you want to make an entire continent rise and force a global seismic catastrophe? Is it to bring the rest of the world to its knees?”

“It does sound pretty selfish, when you put it that way,” Eloise said.

“Oh, dear, dear Jack,” Aliyah said with a chuckle. “Let me set your mind at ease. This catastrophe would never occur. The surface area of the island is not large enough.
Perhaps there would be a few unusual high tides and local flooding. But that will be a small price to pay for the benefits of Atlantis's restored magic. Most important for you, if we were to get the seven Loculi in place, you'd all be cured. And you, Jack, would stand to gain the most.”

She leveled her gaze at me.

The destroyer shall rule.

That was the prophecy in the Seventh Codex of Massarym, hidden in an old painting. A prophecy I supposedly fulfilled when I threw the Loculus of Healing onto a New York City railroad track. When that Loculus was shattered to pieces under a speeding train, I became the Destroyer.

I was supposed to be the ruler of the new Atlantis.

Me, McKinley the Extremely Unmajestic.

I would have been cackling hysterically if everybody weren't staring at me so seriously. Waiting for me to figure out what to do.

“Work with us, Jack,” Aliyah said. “You will not regret it. Neither will your children or grandchildren.”

“Um . . .” I said, with great wisdom and force.

Who was lying?

Who was telling the truth?

Aliyah was the head of the Massa. Professor Bhegad was not the head of the Karai. He might have been lied to. He might not have known what the KI really wanted to do.

But would Aliyah really want to raise up Atlantis to
form a new world order—with
me
as the leader? It seemed ridiculous.

I missed Dad. He was all about lists—pros and cons. His motto was
A problem is an answer waiting to be opened
. Which sounded so dumb when I was a kid, but not now. I remember he always started with two questions: What do you want? and How do you plan to get it?

What I wanted:

1.
Aly, alive and well.

2.
The Loculus of Healing, healed.

3.
The Loculus of Strength, back from the clutches of King Uhla'ar on the other side of the rift.

4.
The curse of the G7W gene to be over, and a long life for my friends and me.

How I planned to get it:

1.

Arrrrrgh
. This part I didn't know. The Massa had the power. The Karai had my trust.

“Jack . . . ?” Cass said. “You better say something. . . .”

All eyes were on me. No-longer-dead Marco. Almost-killed Torquin. The reluctant siblings, Cass and Eloise. The head of the Massa, Aliyah. About ten very large, very quiet Greek guys in tunics. All waiting for my answer to Aliyah.

Work with her?
A day ago I would have laughed in her face. But now, for a nanosecond, I felt a charge of power. As if I actually were the king.

It was scary.

But I had my answer. To my own disbelief.

“I'll do it,” I said to Aliyah. “I'll work with you.”

“Jack!”
Cass shouted in dismay.

“Really?” Eloise piped up.

“Dude . . .” Marco said.

Aliyah's eyes grew to about twice their size. “Well. Yes, then. I knew you would see reason.”

“But I have some conditions,” I added.

“Oh?” Aliyah said, holding back a smile.

“A child does not dictate to Number One,” Manolo said, stepping toward me.

Aliyah put her arm out to stop him. “Go on.”

“The Karai-Massarym feud is over,” I went on. “As of now. You will call off the hunt for the rebels and declare a truce. And Cass, Marco, and I will deliver the rebels to you, willing to be your partners in a new union.”

“What?” Aliyah barked in astonishment. As if I'd just reported that all hands were actually feet.

“I like it!” Cass said. “Team Karassarym.”

“Massarai sounds nicer,” Eloise said.

While I had my courage up, I quickly added something that had been stuck in the back of my mind all along. “Plus, you will give me access to a cell phone so I can tell my dad I'm alive.”

“What makes you think we have any service?” Aliyah
asked with a bemused smile.

“Do you?” I said.

Aliyah stared back at me silently and tight-lipped, while Brother Asclepius was shaking his head. “This feud has lasted centuries,” he said. “It's fundamental. Not so easy to—”

“Do not waste your breath, Asclepius,” Aliyah said. “We must be patient with children. Your bluff will not sway me, Jack. You need us more than we need you. Especially with the tasks ahead. Drop this foolishness and not only will I let you call your father but I will put our best scientists to the task of repairing the Loculus of Healing immediately.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cass kneel, open the sack, and spill the Loculus of Healing shards onto the floor. They formed a mangled pile, hundreds of sizes and shapes. He spread them out and examined them carefully. Then, picking up two, he tossed one to me.

We held the shards close and moved them to align the edges, the way we had done it in my room weeks ago. At a certain angle, those first two shards had stuck together like magnets. But we'd had to get the positioning just right.

I could feel my shard warming, vibrating, until my fingertips felt numb. Still, the shards were staying put. Not moving at all. Cass was sweating. His fingers shook. Aliyah was staring at us as if we'd lost our minds.

“It's not working,” Cass whispered. His shard slipped
from his fingers. But as it fell to the floor, it changed course in midair and began to rise toward me.

With a soft
sshhhink
, the two pieces collided, fusing together into one.

Eloise's jaw nearly hit the floor. “That was so cool.”

Aliyah stepped forward and grabbed the fused shards from my hand. She walked to the window and held the piece upward to the sun. “How were you able to do that?” she demanded.

“The power of the Select,” I said.

The seam that had formed between the two shards was sealing, bottom to top, until it was gone. Startled by this, Aliyah dropped the shard to the floor. It changed direction in midair and jammed itself right into place.

I fixed my eyes on Aliyah and pumped up all the courage I had. “My terms,” I said, “or nothing.”

Aliyah swallowed hard. And she nodded.

“Deal.”