chapter 1
The angel's visitation
It first appeared as a gentle glow, almost like a child’s
night-light. Heavy shadows filled the room as the boy lay face up,
covers tucked neatly under his arms. A slight smile on his face
hinted that he was in the midst of a pleasant dream.
Ryann Watters, who had just celebrated his twelfth birthday, rolled
lazily onto his side, his blond hair matted into the pillow, unaware
of the glow as it began to intensify. Shadows searched for hiding
places throughout the room as the glow transformed from a pale yellow
hue to brilliant white.
Ryann’s eyelids fluttered briefly and then flickered at the
glare reflecting off his pale blue bedroom walls. Drowsily, he turned
toward the light expecting to see one of his parents coming in to
check on him. “What’s going on?” his voice cracked
as he reached up to rub the crusty sleep from his eyes. more...
Under a pale half-moon, Drake Dunfellow’s house looked justlike
any other. A closer inspection, however, would reveal its failing
condition. Water oaks lining the side of the curved driveway hunched
over haggardly, like old men struggling on canes. The lawn, which
should have been a lively green for early spring, was withered and
sandy. A few patches of grass were sprinkled here and there. Rust
lines streaked down the one jagged peak atop the tin-roof house.
The flimsy clapboard sides were outlined by fading white trim speckled
with dried paint curls. Hanging baskets containing a variety of
plants and weeds all struggling to stay alive shared the crowded
front porch with two mildew-covered rocking chairs. Inside, magazines
and newspaper clippings both old and new were carelessly strewn
about. Encrusted dishes from the previous day’s meals battled
each other for space in the bulging kitchen sink. In the garage,
away from the usual living areas, was a boy’s room. Dull paneling
outlined the bedroom, while equally dreary brown linoleum covered
the floor. The bedroom must have been an afterthought because not
much consideration had been given to the details. A bookcase cut
from rough planks sat atop an old garage sale dresser.
Moonlight pressing through the dust-covered metal blinds tried to
provide a sense of peacefulness. Instead it revealed bristly red
hair atop a young boy’s head poking out from beneath a mushy
feather pillow. His heavy breathing provided the only movement in
the quiet room. Tiny droplets of perspiration lined his brow as
he began jerking about under the thin cotton sheets.
Starting at the edge of the window, the blackness spread downward,
transforming all traces of light to an oily dinginess. Drake was
slowly surrounded and remained the only thing not saturated in the
darkness. Bolting upright to a stiff-seated attention, Drake’s
bloodshot eyes darted back and forth. He stared into the black nothingness
shuddering and aware that the only thing visible in the room was
his bed.
“Who . . . who’s there?” Drake cried out, puzzled
by the hollow sound that didn’t seem to travel beyond the
edge of his mattress. Beads of sweat trickled down his neck, connecting
his numerous freckled dots. He strained, slightly tilting his head,
ears perked. There was no reply.
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chapter 2
friends for life
Mount Dora was a small town full of budding memories waiting to
blossom. It reminded
visitors of the place where they grew up, or wished they had. “New
England” in its style, the town was a mixture of quaint streets,
charming bed and breakfast inns, and a wide variety of unique specialty
and antique shops. Majestic palms and sprawling palmetto bushes
were the only clues that it wasn’t Vermont or Rhode Island.
That and the weather, of course. Most of America was stifling hot
and sticky in the summer. This cozy lakeshore village, tucked away
about thirty miles northwest of bustling Orlando, Florida, was hot
and humid six or seven months of the year. Late fall through early
spring brought a short reprieve from the heat, which also brought
more tourists.
Ryann smiled whenever he thought about how lucky he was that his
parents decided to leave the big city five years ago when he was
only seven. Right away, the kids in his class
had befriended him. At home his stomach ached from all the freshly
baked pies and cookies the neighborhood ladies brought over. It
reminded Ryann of a place to drop Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn
so they could continue their spirited and carefree adventures. What
impressed Ryann the most, though, were all the ways to get around
town. There were cars and bicycles like any other town, but there
were also trolleys and horsedrawn carriages. Best of all were the
restored trains that circled the town on the hour.
Soon after his family moved in, Ryann decided that Mount Dora was
a funny name for the town. It wasn’t built on the top or side
of a mountain, although for Florida, it was rather hilly. Friendly
folks at the Chamber of Commerce told tourists that Dora Drawdy
and her family had come down from Georgia in the 1840s to settle
on the small ridge above what later was named Lake Dora by surveyors.
At 184 feet above sea level, Mount Dora qualified as a mount or
small hill, not a mountain. It amused Ryann to think that Dora had
named it that as a way of playing a joke on gullible Northerners.
Resting on the north shores of Lake Dora, a large fishing and boating
lake, Mount Dora was sectioned off into a small grid of shops and
homes. Fifth Avenue and Donnelly Street crisscrossed, providing
the major thoroughfare for local traffic and tourists. Donnelly
Street flowed from uptown down to the water’s edge at Evans
Park, and Fifth Avenue split it halfway in between.
Some aspects of the small town were just like any other. There
were the simple white planked or red brick churches every few blocks,
the local grocer and fire station, and, of course, one elementary,
middle, and high school each. Other aspects of the town lent themselves
to spur Ryann’s imagination. Stores with names like Piglet’s
Pantry, Memories and Marvels, The Painter’s Daughter, and
the intriguing Goblin Market. Burnt-red brick alleyways provided
enticing hideaways and secret shortcuts, while just below town,
brown steel tracks from the Florida Central Railroad cradled Lake
Dora’s sleepy shoreline.
“Get up, sleepyhead, we’ve got to get ready for church,”
the melodious voice of his mother sang.
“Mmm . . . yeah . . . okay,” Ryann mumbled, flipping
over on his stomach, eyes clamped shut and hair tussled about like
grass runners searching for new soil. You could set your watch by
the precise military-like routine that occurred every Sunday morning
in the Watters’s house—the 7:30 wake-up call, then showering,
dressing, and being seated for breakfast by 8:15. Ryann’s
mother wasn’t a short-order cook, but she made sure his favorites—a
bowl of cinnamon-apple oatmeal, two halves of bagel, one with cream
cheese, the other with peanut butter, and a glass of orange juice—were
waiting at his spot when he rolled lazily down the stairs to the
kitchen.
“Good morning, Ryann,” his mother smiled. “Sleep
well?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, while thinking to himself,
“if you consider being visited by an angel, given special
gifts, and told to find a King’s sword, sleeping well.”
“Just great,” he muttered, grinning to himself, as a
rumble from the stairs announced his brother and sister bounding
down. Their black-and-white border collie, Pepper, yipped at
their heels, bringing him out of his trance.
“Beat’cha!” Alison cheered, dashing into her chair.
Her juice splashed over the side of her glass as she jarred the
table. Ryann rolled his eyes.
“Big deal,” said Henry Jr. He tried to act as if he
didn’t care, but Ryann knew he did. Henry never wanted anyone
to beat him at anything, especially their sister.
Looking up from his paper, their father warned, “Okay kids,
let’s eat up and get on our way. We don’t want to be
late for church.” He drew the ritual to a close by cinching
up his tie as he sat down to a bowl of his favorite cereal.
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chapter 6
betrayed
Drake sat alone in his room, running his hands across
the smooth, black cloak given to him by Lord Ekron. Following Terell
and Ryann after school to the lake had been a hunch on his part.
Their faces had flushed with guilt when he approached Liddy and
them in class to ask what they were talking about. Lord Ekron had
told him that he needed to stop the one who seeks to bind, and the
first two likely candidates were Terell and Ryann. The decision
to corner the two of them out by the lake and intimidate them was
easy. What he hadn’t expected was the strange glowing water
and Ryann’s disappearance. Even now he could see the blank,
distant stare from Ryann’s eyes as he slipped beneath the
surface. Panicking, he had run as quickly as he could back to his
bicycle and raced the entire way home.
“I blew it,” Drake thought. “It was my first chance
to do something for Lord Ekron and I chickened out.” Drake
smashed his fist down on his desk, hoping for another chance.
“Things not going as well as you would have
liked?” the crackling voice muttered from behind him.
He jumped slightly. “Oh,” he said, turning
to see his aunt standing in the doorway, the small lamp in his room
casting eerie shadows across her face. “You startled me.”
She smiled when he said that, as she crossed the room
and placed her long, bony fingers on his shoulder. “Do you
feel like you let him down?” she asked.
“Let him down?” he wondered. “She couldn’t
be talking about Lord Ekron, could she? How could she know?”
“What do you mean?” Drake asked his aunt. “Let
who down?”
“It’s okay, boy, it’s not a secret. Lord Ekron
first visited me many years ago when I was a girl about your age.
I’ve done his bidding ever since. He’s the one who told
me to adopt you.”
Drake glared at her, caught between the desire for
her to tell him more about Lord Ekron and despising her for revealing
the harsh truth that he wasn’t adopted because of family loyalty,
but out of obligation.
“If you’re like me, you can feel the power that he has
to offer. Then you won’t have to worry about anyone taking
advantage of you again,” she said.
Drake stared into the empty, sagging eyes that glared back at him.
Ever since he could remember, he had felt uncomfortable around his
aunt. She always seemed to be staring at him, like she was peering
into his thoughts. He didn’t think she really could, but Drake
always felt she knew more than she was letting on.
“I’m afraid I’ve outlived my usefulness, but he
has plans for you, Drake. I see you have his symbol.” She
stared at the red dragon on the black ring. “Now that you’ve
opened the door
and let him in, there can be no turning back.”
Drake considered her words. “Why would I want to turn back?
Lord Ekron is opening my eyes to things I’ve never seen before,”
he reasoned. Suddenly his aunt didn’t seem so scary
anymore. She looked tired and frail.
“Do you know who Lord Ekron wants you to stop?”
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chapter 9
wonderful worlds
Ryann and Liddy beamed with delight. They were experiencing
a fantasy, previously lived out only through adventure books. Not
wanting to miss a thing, they stumbled over themselves, looking
in every direction as they tried to keep up with Raz and Essy.
The great hall of Castle Myraddin was bursting with activity. Echoes
of roaring, barking, squealing, cooing, neighing, singing, and laughing
resounded off the lofty peaked ceilings as everyone made their way
into the hall. Ryann was amazed at the pairs of animals conversing
together—lions with zebras, foxes with rabbits, and bears
with sheep. Back home they would have been eating one another. More
amazing were the creatures that didn’t exist back home: unicorns,
fawns, pixies, elves, centaurs, and dryads. Of course, there were
humans—at least he assumed they were—but nothing appeared
very special about any of them.
“Look!” Liddy cried out, tugging on Ryann’s
arm. Off to the side, down in front, a white dragon sat back on
its haunches, perfectly still and stately. Ryann would have thought
it was a large statue, except for the wet nostrils that rhythmically
flared in and out.
“Is it safe?” Liddy asked as she caught up to Essy and
pointed in the direction of the dragon.
“You mean Sorcha?” Essy grinned. “That all depends
upon how you define safe.”
Having adjusted to a roomful of talking animals and up until now
purely mythical creatures, Ryann looked ahead of Raz and Essy to
a few open spots at the bulky wooden tables. The great hall was
just what he would have imagined an ancient castle would look like.
Roughly chiseled stones formed the massive walls that soared skyward
into the darkness. Red and orange rays from the setting sun splashed
through large, stained glass
circular windows midway up the walls, creating a banner of colors
streaming to the floor. Coupled with two-foot tall, thick green
candles, this was the only light for the room.
“Have you ever seen such a spread of food,
Ryann?” Liddy asked, looking up and down their long row of
tables.
“Only at Thanksgiving or Christmas dinners. But never this
much variety.”
Shiny golden bowls spilled over with fruits of every color. Ryann
marveled at how large and fresh the grapes, bananas, oranges, apples,
pears, peaches, and strawberries looked. Then there were some other
odd-shaped things he assumed to be fruit but had never seen before.
He thought he’d have to try the pinkish, oblong fruit that
looked like the fruit he had seen on the Tree of Life. He wondered
if it would taste sweet or sour. Other bowls of varying sizes were
heaped full of vegetables, steaming rice and noodles, mashed potatoes,
olives, nuts, and breads. Breathing in the tantalizing aromas made
Ryann’s stomach growl in desire, having been deprived of food
since breakfast early that morning.
Dong!
The clanging brass gong interrupted the roar of conversation and
the great hall grew silent.
Ryann and Liddy looked out of the corners of their
eyes to see what everyone else was doing and bowed their heads to
mimic those around them. At first, Ryann kept one eye open to see
if someone would pray like his family did at home around the dinner
table. Silence. Then he shut both eyes, shifting back and forth
from one foot to the other. He was tempted to raise his head and
look around, but knew he didn’t dare at this point. Then .
. .
Donggg!—Donggg!—Donggg!
The gong reverberated throughout the cavernous hall in three lengthy
blows. Heads rose in unison and everyone sat down. Ryann and Liddy
imitated the others, not wanting to seem out of place, while the
first ones seated began attending to the food.
“Here you go, young man,” snorted a jovial warthog Ryann
hadn’t noticed sitting to his right. He tried to ignore the
wet snout staring him in the face as he took a bowl of puffy rolls
and then passed them along.
“Would you mind passing me a quant?” the warthog grunted,
pointing past him while stuffing three rolls into his mouth. “A
what?” Ryann turned in the direction the warthog had pointed.
One of the huge bowls of towering fruit was off to his left, in
front of Liddy.
“Liddy, pass me a quant, please,” Ryann said loud enough
for those in front and beside him to hear.
“A wha..?” she started, giving him a quizzical glare.
Raz came to her rescue, his paw darting out to retrieve
one of the pink-colored oval-shaped things and handing it to Liddy.Ryann
passed it along.
“Name’s Grotch,” the warthog chortled before chomping
into the quant.
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