ã€ŠThe Hammer - Cor Series Book 1ã€‹


 Hammer 1

    Corvan jolted awake, gasping as if he''d been trapped underwater. Cold sweat trickled past his ear. The nightmare had returned and each night the monster pursued him through the dark caves; the fierce hatred in its eyes was coming closer.

    Rolling onto his back, he studied the myriad of familiar cracks in the plaster overhead. He had no doubt the dream was directly connected to a time when this was his grandfather''s room. Although the man had mysteriously vanished on the day before Corvan''s second birthday, Corvan retained a distinct memory of sitting on the bed with his grandfather, looking out the window, and listening to stories of monsters and caves.

    Swinging his shaking legs out of bed, he crossed to the window, sat on the wide sill, and leaned against the jamb. A cool breeze, fresh with the scent of approaching rain, raised goose bumps on his skin. Beyond the golden sunrise on the green of the aspen trees that bordered his back yard, the gentle wind was stirring his family¡¯s crop of golden wheat into waves that swept in to run ashore against a massive mound of granite¡ªhis favorite place in the entire world. The rounded sides of the rock climbed thirty feet above the sea of grain in an unbroken curve until it reached Castle Rock, Corvan¡¯s name for the ring of boulders crowning the summit. From his bedroom window, the protective circle of stones looked like the beginnings of another Stonehenge or the ruins of an ancient island citadel.

    The fort he had built inside the rocks was his personal fortress of solitude, a refuge from the realities of his complicated life. Unfortunately, unlike his comic book hero, his hideaway was within earshot of his mother¡¯s call from the back porch.

    Leaning his forehead into a well-worn bulge in the metal window screen, Corvan searched the outline of each rock, but nothing moved. The creature he had caught a glimpse of the previous week had completely vanished. It wasn¡¯t anywhere near the size of the monster in his nightmares, but the timing of its appearance along with the secrecy surrounding his upcoming fifteenth birthday added to his growing apprehension.

    Sitting back, he tipped his head against the window frame and watched the slender cloud fingers caress the blue sky. His father believed that his coming of age in 1952 was of great importance. So far, the only part of the year that held any personal significance was when Mrs. Barron, the owner of the corner store, had given him a science fiction book her son had picked up in the city but didn¡¯t like.

    ¡°Consider it an early birthday present,¡± she had said, her eyes holding a sympathetic glint. ¡°Your mother tells me this is an important birthday for you, and I know things are a bit tight right now with the mine closed down and all.¡±

    The book was entitled, A Star Man¡¯s Son, and each time he read it, he found himself identifying more strongly with its mutant hero, Fors of the Puma Clan. Fors was also bullied and mocked for his appearance, but at least Fors was able to escape his situation with his loyal companion. Corvan could relate to living as an outcast on the great plains. He could only hope that one day he too would break free of the constraints that were holding him back.

    Getting out of bed, he stood before the mirror hanging on the short walls that supported the vaulted ceiling of his room. He was the only one short enough to stand up where the sloped ceiling met the wall. At school he had to look three grades below his own to find someone shorter. Some of the younger kids joked that he was the skinny ninety-eight pound weakling in the comic book ads. Corvan looked at his chest. It was true, for every one of his ribs was clearly visible.

    The whistle of the kettle in the kitchen below his room interrupted his thoughts. Corvan sighed. He would rather go back to bed and face the nightmare than get ready for another day of school. At least with the monster, he would eventually wake up and the fear would fade. In real life, at least for the past year, his problems at home and at school clung to him like burrs on his woolen socks.

    ¡°Corvan!¡±

    He jumped from the window ledge to find his mother standing in his doorway. Her blonde hair was pressed up against the unusually short door frame.

    ¡°I should have known you¡¯d be daydreaming again. Didn¡¯t you hear me call you down to breakfast?¡±

    ¡°I was sleeping.¡±

    ¡°I heard you holler,¡± she said with a frown.

    Corvan grinned. ¡°I must have been dreaming,¡± he said as he retreated behind his bed and pulled on his patched jeans.

    ¡°No doubt you were.¡± She stepped through the doorway, then she straightened to her full height. ¡°I met Miss Thompson at the store yesterday.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s heart dropped at the mention of his teacher.

    ¡°She says you¡¯ve been coming in after class has started this past week. I told her you must be dawdling on the way. You certainly leave home in plenty of time.¡±

    Corvan tugged his threadbare T-shirt over his head. He did not want her to see the guilt written across his face. The truth was, he wanted to be late for school¡ªfor the rest of the year if possible. His head poked out as the horn of their truck honked twice in the driveway.

    ¡°We¡¯ll talk about this later. Your father has been called to a meeting at the mine, and I¡¯m going along to sell my cider at the farmer¡¯s market.¡± She shot a warning look his way. ¡°Be on time today.¡±

    He nodded, and she retreated down the stairs.

    Corvan waited until their truck pulled up their driveway before making his way to the kitchen. Whisps of steam rose lazily from the kettle¡¯s spout. A pot of oatmeal sat on the counter next to the woodstove. With a heavy sigh, Corvan poked at the sticky lumps. He was used to oatmeal every weekday morning, but for the last few months there had been no brown sugar and often they were out of milk. Unless the coal mine reopened soon, there wouldn¡¯t be much of an improvement, at least not before his birthday came around.

    A dog barked in the lane. Corvan snatched up his lunchbox and ran to the front door. There was no one there, just a mangy stray slinking through the trees along the dirt track.

    Every morning since the start of grade eight, when Kate and her mom had moved to town, she had picked him up on her way to school. But last week she informed him she wouldn¡¯t be walking with him anymore. She wouldn¡¯t say why, and he didn¡¯t like that Kate could be so secretive and stubborn at times. Her distance made for a hard week.

    The morning breeze had died down, and the dust from the passing of his dad¡¯s truck hung over their tree-lined driveway. A red-tailed hawk perched on the weathered gate post at the end of the lane. Its dark eyes followed his every move. The intense gaze reminded him of the bullies at school, always watching for an opportunity to swoop in and pick him to pieces.

    Picking a stone from the road, he tossed it at the post to scare the hawk away. The large dark eyes blinked in disdain, then it rose into the air with its distinctive screech and soared along the road into town. Corvan ran his dusty hand over his crew-cut hair as he trudged on toward the school. If only he could fly above the world and go wherever he wanted.

    The sound of playing children grew louder as he poked his head around the final clump of saskatoon bushes. His one-room schoolhouse had seen better days. It was new when his father attended, but now its faded red paint hung from the rough boards in brittle strips.

    Corvan stepped into the gate and scanned the playground. Billy Fry, the biggest bully at school, was nowhere in sight. He breathed a sigh of relief. Billy¡¯s frequent truancy was one of the few things that made school days bearable. Whenever Billy showed up, Corvan could count on being harassed the entire day.

    Checking the perimeter of the playground, he spied Kate sitting against the picket fence by the ball diamond. The bangs of her red hair were flopped over her eyes. He didn¡¯t think she noticed him until she jerked a thumb toward the boys¡¯ outhouse. Billy must be inside. He looked across the playground to the school door. This time, rather than hiding out until after the bell rang, he could make a run for it. He would not only impress his teacher with his early arrival, but also be safe inside¡ªat least until lunch.

    Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and headed toward the school. Kate and the others would be watching. He couldn¡¯t let them think he was afraid.

    The outhouse door sprang open, and Billy stepped into the sunlight as he was looping the strap of his patched coveralls over his broad shoulder. He stood on the outhouse stoop and surveyed the playground like a wolf looking for the weakest member of the herd. His eyes locked on Corvan. A cruel grin spread over his face.

    Corvan froze and glanced at Kate. She remained sitting, biting her lower lip, and looking hard in the other direction. He didn¡¯t expect her to always fight Billy for him, but her presence usually curbed the bully¡¯s attacks. In fact, all the boys kept their distance from Kate¡¯s lightning fists. Her light frame hid a feisty fighter who could blacken an eye and get away before a larger opponent could even try to pin her down. If only he could be so brave.

    Not to be deprived of his prey, Billy lumbered over to Corvan, glanced at Kate, then dropped his voice to a menacing growl. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you on time cause I gots something to tell ya.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m all ears,¡± Corvan replied, attempting to disarm Billy with a grin.

    ¡°I can see that.¡± Billy flicked the lobes of Corvan¡¯s left ear until he winced in pain. ¡°The way these things stick out, you look like Dumbo.¡±

    Corvan tried to pull away, but Billy stepped hard on his toes, pinning him to the ground and forcing him to look directly into the boy¡¯s broad chest. He tried to squirm free from the humiliation, but his shoes might as well have been nailed down with the boy¡¯s weight crushing his toes.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Kate¡¯s voice cut through the tense air. ¡°Why don¡¯t you pick on someone your own size?¡±

    Billy stepped away and turned to face her. Corvan was free to run away, but he couldn¡¯t let Kate face Billy alone, especially now that the other children were running over to see what might happen next.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t ya notice, Kate? There is no one my size in our school,¡± Billy said with a sneer.

    He laughed over the heads of the gathering crowd, then looked back at Corvan. ¡°Maybe Corvan¡¯s dad could fight me.¡± He spread out his hands out in pretend shock. ¡°Oh, yeah, I forgot. Corvan¡¯s dad is a shrimpy chicken too.¡± He took a measured step away from Kate. ¡°And you don¡¯t even have a dad.¡±

    The other children gave Kate room. She squinted through her bangs for a long moment. Her jaw was working as she chewed the inside of her cheek. Her eyes flickered to Corvan, lingered on his face, then she spun around and marched away.

    Billy watched her leave with a relieved smirk, then turned his attention to Corvan. ¡°My dad says your kind don¡¯t belong in our school. Everyone in town knows your dad¡¯s just a no-account half-breed that can¡¯t even keep a job.¡±

    Corvan stared at the ground and let his arms hang limply at his sides. This was not the first time someone had talked about his father this way. His dad said if Corvan ignored them, eventually people would move on. His father was wrong. Ignoring the comments had only intensified the attacks.

    The bell rang, and children scampered around Corvan and Billy to beat each other into the building. He tried to follow, but Billy slapped an open hand the size of a baseball glove on Corvan¡¯s forehead and shoved him to the ground. ¡°Best just stay away from school, Dumbo, ¡®cause you ain¡¯t gonna like this one as long as I¡¯m around.¡±

    Corvan got to his knees. Looking through Billy¡¯s legs, he could see Kate watching him from next to the school door, her fists tightly clenched.

    A plume of dust exploded in Corvan¡¯s eyes as Billy¡¯s heavy boot skimmed past his head. ¡°No use lookin¡¯ for Kate to save you.¡± He bent closer. ¡°My dad told her mom about Kate fighting at school, and now she ain¡¯t gonna let Kate help you no more.¡± The bell fell silent, and Billy¡¯s footsteps faded toward the school.

    Corvan knelt and blinked with his head down. He allowed his eyes to water and rinse the dust away. Gritty tears slid down his cheeks as his eyes cleared. Oh great! Now the other kids would think he¡¯d been crying. Grabbing the bottom edge of his t-shirt, he pulled it up to wipe his face clean. The hem tore open.

    Getting to his feet, he poked a dirty finger through the hole in his shirt, then slapped the dust off his pants. Now he really did look the part of Billy¡¯s taunts. He looked to the open gate. This would definitely be a good day to skip school. Then again, with his mother and teacher comparing notes, it would not be the best idea.

    His shoulders drooped as he trudged to the school building and slipped quietly through the door.

    Miss Thompson stood at the chalkboard with her back to the class; the words ¡°Oral Report¡± printed neatly over her head. He eased the heavy door closed.

    ¡°Corvan¡¯s here, ma¡¯am.¡± Billy Fry¡¯s voice broke the silence like the brash call of a raven. Corvan¡¯s jaw clenched as he headed toward his assigned seat.

    Miss Thompson did not turn around. ¡°You¡¯re late again, Corvan. This time you will stay after school to write lines.¡±

    Corvan headed toward his desk at the back of the room. Normally, the shorter kids sat closer to the front, but Miss Thompson had agreed to let him sit at the back with the older children, one row behind Billy. As he walked up the aisle between the desks, the bully shook his fist at him. One row over, Corvan caught a flicker of sympathy in Kate¡¯s eyes.

    Miss Thompson¡¯s voice pulled him up short. ¡°Since you¡¯re already standing, Corvan, you might as well be the first to give your oral report about what you did this past summer.¡±

    Oral report? She must have given that assignment on one of the days he came in late. Corvan racked his brain for a topic as he dragged himself to the front of the class. It had been a boring summer as there was not enough money for gas to go camping in the mountains. The weather had been unusually hot and dry, and his father had stayed in the cellar most days or had gone to the caves by the river.

    But ¡­ something significant had happened the past week, something the others would find interesting. Coming alongside Miss Thompson¡¯s desk, he turned to face the class and found everyone was looking intently at him. Straightening his shoulders, he cleared his throat. This was his time to impress them with a fantastic tale, and this one was completely true.

    ¡°This past summer,¡± Corvan said, pointing out the side window, ¡°I discovered strange tracks around the big rock in our field. The tracks were of three toes with claws and sometimes a tail dragging behind. The tracks would come and go at night from our rock into the fields and sometimes even lead into town. I had to find out what it was up to.¡±

    Kate frowned at him, and Corvan paused. He was going to tell Kate about the tracks when they were alone, not here in front of the whole class. The rest of class, however, were fully engaged and waiting for him to go on. A few of the younger children at the front began to fidget nervously, and the ones at the back were leaning forward to hear more. He¡¯d never had the entire school so intent on what he was saying. He took a step to the front of Miss Thompson¡¯s desk and lowered his voice.

    ¡°Last week, I finally saw it up close. I was hiding inside our outhouse and looking out a knothole when it crawled out of our woodpile. It was a lizard, this high!¡± He held a hand up past his waist. ¡°There were dark blue markings around its chest and face, and it walked like this, upright on its hind legs¡ª¡±

    Miss Thompson¡¯s ruler smacked her open hand, and Corvan whirled around. ¡°Corvan, the assignment was an oral report about your summer vacation, not another of your tall tales.¡± She shook her head. ¡°You know as well as I do, there are no three-foot-high blue dinosaur-like lizards around here. This is the 1950s, not the Mesozoic era. After school, you will write that out on the board one hundred times.¡±

    She continued talking to the class, reassuring the students that dinosaurs went extinct a long time ago and were not roaming through their town at night.

    Could she be wrong? Corvan thought. In a recent story in one of his favorite science fiction magazines, the Mad Scientists club had hatched a dinosaur egg. His own town was close to one of the largest deposits of dinosaur bones in the world. Was it possible for an egg to be preserved deep underground and then hatch when it was pushed to the surface by the spring thaw? Was that why the lizard was so large and walked on his hind legs?

    ¡°Corvan!¡± Miss Thompson¡¯s sharp voice pierced his mental fog. ¡°How many times do I need to tell you to sit down?¡±

    Corvan flinched as the words yanked him back to rows of laughing classmates. His face burned as he walked dejectedly past the younger children to the back of the class. True to form, Billy Fry stuck his foot out. Corvan jumped over it, stumbled against his own desk and scattered his pencils across the back of the room.

    Easing himself into the seat, he opened his desk and hunched down to hide behind the lid. At a touch on his shoulder, he looked up. Kate was leaning back to him from the next row, one of his pencils in her hand. Corvan smiled her and mouthed ¡°thanks.¡± Closing his desk, he took the pencil and unwound a narrow piece of paper wrapped around it.

    We need to talk. Meet me at the rock after supper.

    Corvan looked up and nodded eagerly to Kate. Now he could tell her all about the lizard and get her help in finding out where it might be hiding.

    He was about to write back when the thin strip of paper disappeared into Billy Fry¡¯s grimy hand.

    ¡°Billy, what are you up to now?¡± A weary Miss Thompson walked up the aisle.

    Billy grinned at Corvan, then he turned around. ¡°Sorry, ma¡¯am, but Corvan¡¯s writin¡¯ notes in class.¡± He held the strip of foolscap up to the teacher.

    She took the paper from Billy. Corvan slouched further into his chair.

    Miss Thompson checked the handwriting and turned to Kate. ¡°Miss Poley, you will also stay after school today and write one hundred times on the blackboard, ¡®I will not pass notes in school.¡¯¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t, Miss Thompson,¡± Kate pleaded, her voice trembling. ¡°I have to clean the house before my mom gets home.¡±

    Miss Thompson¡¯s posture softened, but Billy Fry twisted to face Kate and mouthed a few nasty words about Kate¡¯s mother behind the teacher¡¯s back. Kate¡¯s eyes blazed, and Miss Thompson¡¯s back stiffened. ¡°Then today you will eat your lunch inside with the younger children and write your lines.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s heart sank. Kate never ate lunch with anyone else, as she rarely brought any. He always made sure that the second sandwich his mother put in his lunch box found its way into Kate¡¯s hand.

    Pink crept up Kate¡¯s cheeks as she pushed her shoulders back.

    A smug grin spread over Billy¡¯s face. ¡°I bet her mom spent all her money for lunch at the bingo hall,¡± he snickered.

    Miss Thompson whirled about and the crack of wooden ruler breaking over Billy¡¯s head brought everyone to attention, except Kate. Kate was halfway up the aisle before the pieces hit the floor.

    ¡°Kate!¡± Miss Thompson¡¯s voice brought the girl up short at the classroom door. ¡°You do not have permission to leave class.¡± Her tone eased. ¡°Please take your seat. We can talk about this later.¡±

    Kate¡¯s lower lip quivered as she pulled the bangs even farther over her eyes. She had cried only once in front of Corvan. There was no way she would let the class see her tears.

    Kate put her hand on the doorknob. ¡°I don¡¯t need permission to leave because I¡¯m never coming back.¡± In a flash, she was gone, leaving the students in stunned silence.

    Corvan ground his teeth while staring at Billy as the boy rubbed his head. What right did Billy have to make fun of Kate¡¯s home life? It wasn¡¯t like living alone with his father on their run-down farm was any better. If he had the strength of one of his comic book heroes, he¡¯d make Billy pay for all the misery he caused others.

    But he was no hero. He hadn¡¯t even stood up for Kate and taken the blame for the note. He slumped deeper into his desk and put his hands on his knees. Once again, he had given in to his fears. Billy was right; he was a chicken, a runt, a pathetic excuse for a human being.

    A dark cloud hung over Corvan for the remainder of the day. Fortunately, Billy left at lunch, complaining of a headache. To avoid taunts about his ¡°blue lizard,¡± Corvan ate by himself in the dugout of the ball diamond and forced himself to listlessly eat both the sandwiches.

    After lunch, Miss Thompson announced that she would be gone the following day, so there would be no school that Friday. With Kate wanting to meet up again, the long weekend was looking much brighter.

    As soon as classes were over, Corvan wrote his assigned lines on the chalkboard with fervor. He did not want to waste precious moments of freedom. By the time he was finished, his fingers were cramped into a claw. On his way out, Miss Thompson called him to her desk.

    ¡°Corvan, I know some of the boys pick on you. I will do my best to see that it stops, but you add fuel to the fire when you tell the class an outlandish story about a giant lizard.¡± She leaned toward him. ¡°Honesty is a basic building block of a successful life. Think of your father, Corvan, and try to follow his example.¡±

    Corvan nodded but couldn¡¯t look her in the eyes. Mumbling an apology, he turned away and dragged his feet out the door.

    On the walk home, he turned her words over in his mind. If he were honest, he didn¡¯t believe it paid to be truthful. People took advantage of his father¡¯s integrity and mocked his dad behind his back. A surge of anger bubbled up in Corvan. His father was a good man, but some nicknamed him Tonto, referring to the Lone Ranger¡¯s sidekick. Others made jokes about his height; he was the shortest man in town, most likely the whole county.

    Unfortunately, Corvan had inherited his father¡¯s skin tone and stature. He was a good ten inches shorter than any of the other kids in his grade, and that gave the larger boys ample opportunity to make his life miserable. In the past, he had tried to win their respect by telling fantastic stories, but now that had earned him a reputation as a liar.

    He kicked a stone up from the gravel road. By tonight, the whole town would be laughing at his description of the lizard and talking about his lie.

    Stopping at the top of their lane, he put a hand on the fencepost and looked back toward the schoolyard. His parents had told him that turning fifteen was when he would leave boyhood behind. If telling the truth only brought more mockery, then it was time to stand up for himself and not back down from what he knew to be real.

    I¡¯m going to catch that lizard and prove I was right all along.

 Hammer 2

    Climbing over the gate at the end of their lane, Corvan spied his dad¡¯s rusty pickup slouched on its broken springs in front of the house. His heart dropped. Now his mom would want to know why he was late.

    There was nothing worse than getting in trouble at school and then again at home when his mom found out. If she grounded him, he wouldn¡¯t get a chance to meet Kate and ask her to help him search for the lizard. It would be best to sneak around to the back porch, climb the maple tree to his room, and pretend he had been napping.

    As he veered to the left side of the house, the front screen door squeaked open, and his mother stepped out. Here was living proof that opposites attract: unlike his father, she was tall, and her skin remained pale no matter how much time she spent outdoors.

    ¡°About time you got home,¡± she said wearily. ¡°You can help me carry the cider jars back to the pantry. I only sold three and traded a few more for some baking supplies.¡± She opened the tailgate and slung a half empty crate of jars at him with an ease that denied its weight. Grasping the wooden box, Corvan barely managed to stumble his way through the front door. If he had his mother¡¯s strength, he could knock Billy Fry clean across the school yard.

    Entering the kitchen, he found his father at the sink staring out over the field. A pair of sunglasses stuck out from his hand. As his deeply lined eyes scanned the horizon, there was a deep furrow across his brow.

    As Corvan scraped the crate onto the table, his father jammed his sunglasses onto his head and went out the back door without saying a word.

    Corvan desperately wanted to stop him and ask what was going on, but he knew it was no use. His father had become increasingly reclusive the past year. He missed his job at the mine and detested farming. The summer heat sapped his energy even though he covered up, wore a wide brimmed hat, and kept his sunglasses on whenever he was outside.

    Corvan gazed helplessly at the hunched figure walking across the yard. He missed happier days when his dad would come home from the mine and play games with him after supper. With the mine closed, his dad spent most of his days and nights down in the cellar, pounding away on his metalwork projects. He was glad his father didn¡¯t get drunk like Billy Fry¡¯s dad, but withdrawing to the cellar didn¡¯t seem like a great way to deal with problems either.

    His mother entered and slid two more full crates onto the kitchen table. She stared at her husband as he disappeared around the rock and shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve no time to make supper tonight. Grab yourself some jerky and a piece of bread. I¡¯ll dig you a few carrots before I start weeding the garden.¡±

    His mother¡¯s response to problems was to spend more time in her garden, but Corvan didn¡¯t mind. He liked eating the fruit of her labors, and her obsession with gardening usually meant he would be left alone to pursue his own interests.

    After stuffing three long strips of dried meat from the stoneware crock into his pocket, he sauntered outside, where he found his mother on her knees in the dirt, the dilapidated scarecrow watching silently over her. Picking up the bunch of carrots by the water pump, he began working the long iron handle.

    The pump squeaked as he washed the dirt off, and his mother stretched her back and admired her handiwork. He avoided eye contact, hoping she wouldn¡¯t ask him to help weed. He hated that chore, and right now he needed to get out to the rock to meet Kate.

    The water ebbed to a trickle, and his mother went back to her weeding. Creeping from the yard, he headed out to the Castle Rock.

    It was a steeper climb behind the outhouse and up the southeast side of the rock, but Corvan knew every small foothold like the stairs to his bedroom. Reaching the top, he stepped into the widest gap between two stone crenelations and leaned onto one of the boulders, like a king surveying his domain.

    Their home was one of two farms that lay just outside the main streets of their small town. Corvan¡¯s home was directly north of town at the end of a long, tree-lined lane that thrust the house far out into an open field of grain. His father liked being separated from the town and always kept his gate closed and latched. A larger farm to the east side of town belonged to Mr. Fry.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Their yard and garden were bounded by twin rows of trees, a line of tall aspens and a shorter screen of spruce. In the center of this living wall of green was their home¡ªthe Guard Tower, as his grandfather had named it. It was a fitting name, for the house was a tall square structure, with a pointed roof over the second story. It was also the only home in town made of heavy stone blocks. The structure had been built long before the surrounding area was settled. A history professor from the college in the city asked to see it, but his dad wouldn¡¯t let him past the front gate.

    The rest of the homes were clustered along three wide gravel roads that ran parallel to the railway tracks. All in all, their dusty town had one grain elevator, one corner gas station, two vacant lots, and 76 houses of various sizes. The total population was 257 residents, but worked in the city of Fenwood, fifteen miles past the railway crossing, or in the river valley at the coal mine.

    Crunching the last bite of carrot, he tossed the green top over the side of the hill. He should be helping his mother in the garden instead of imagining himself as the king of the world, but Kate was coming. He eased the feelings of guilt by walking around to the north side of the ring of rocks and looked out over the fields.

    His father, now a stick figure in the distance, disappeared into the tangle of brush-filled coulees that marked the edge of their property. Beyond that boundary, the land dropped off steeply to the river and caves that laced the sides of the river valley. His father loved to explore the caverns and could be underground for days at a time.

    Corvan turned away and stepped into the depression in the midst of the ring of rocks that crowned the hill. The large rock that used to be in the gap facing his house was in the very center circle. At some point in the distant past, it had been broken off and relocated. He had learned not to ask why.

    On the eastern side of the Castle Rock, he and Kate had built a fort from old lumber they had pillaged around town. It wasn¡¯t much to look at, but it provided a bit of shade and protection from the prevailing winds. From here, they had explored the surrounding area all the way out to the caves at the river¡¯s edge.

    The area in front of the fort was normally a muddy pond. Rainwater would gather and then overflow into a channel cut into the western slope and rush out into the field. The past summer, however, had been far too hot and dry. The pond water had long since evaporated and left salt-crusted shards of mud behind.

    Corvan continued past the central boulder to the western side. The slope was gentler here, and the dry water channel was a comfortable resting spot. From here, he would have a clear view of Kate coming from her house.

    A smile spread across his face. It had been a relief to find out it wasn¡¯t Kate¡¯s idea to stop hanging out with him. Her mother was not well accepted in town, and Billy¡¯s father was a mean-tempered man known for pushing people around to get his way. Most likely, he was embarrassed that his son had been put in his place by a younger girl.

    The sun was setting and Corvan¡¯s hopes faltered. Kate usually followed through on her plans, but at times Kate¡¯s mother returned from work in a bad mood and would refuse to let Kate come over after supper. After a week of not seeing her and exciting news about the lizard, this would be the worst time for her to be grounded.

    The cradle of rock beneath him radiated its stored heat into his body. He lay back and closed his eyes to block out the setting sun.

    The bell on the back porch was ringing! He sat up to find the last sliver of sunlight behind a thin band of cloud on the horizon.

    Walking down the channel, he stopped in at the outhouse before going into the kitchen. His mother was drying the dishes and stacking them on the cupboard. A bowl with a few strawberries was waiting for him on the table.

    ¡°There¡¯s not many left, and they likely aren¡¯t the sweetest, but I thought you might enjoy them.¡± She stepped off to one side of the sink. ¡°You need to wash your hands first. I saw you come out of the outhouse.¡±

    Corvan stepped beside her, dipped his hands in the warm water, and looked out the window past the Castle Rock.

    ¡°Is dad coming back tonight?¡± He dropped his head. His mother had enough worries.

    She looked down at him. ¡°Your father needs some time to think things through, but don¡¯t let all this worry you.¡± She put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ve been through tough times before, and we¡¯ll make it through this one too.¡±

    Corvan wiped his hands on the towel that hung next to the sink, sat at the table, and finished off the berries.

    His mother picked up his empty bowl and pushed it into the soapy water. ¡°It¡¯s been a long day, and I¡¯ll be going to bed soon. You should do the same and get some rest.¡± She smiled at him over her shoulder, but the lines about her eyes remained sad and drawn. ¡°Hopefully you have better dreams and don¡¯t wake me up in the night.¡±

    He gave her a quick hug. ¡°Goodnight, Mom.¡±

    As he climbed the stairs, he muttered to himself, ¡°I sure won¡¯t have a good night if that stupid nightmare comes back.¡±

 Hammer 3

    The nightmare monster lurked in the darkness, waiting for him to move and betray his location. The shadows shifted to reveal a hulking shape swaying from side to side at the far end of the tunnel.

    His grandfather said to get out of the maze of tunnels, he only needed to climb a rope and find a blue light.

    Another passage opened beside him, and he inched forward to where a jagged fracture broke the cavern floor. Musky fear filled his mouth as he searched the darkness overhead. At least the dream was consistent, for once again a translucent green rope dangled over the void, just out of reach.

    The clicking of claws on rock set his heart pounding. A glance over his shoulder revealed the massive bear-like creature sweeping toward him with its red eyes piercing the dark.

    Corvan whirled about, leapt off the edge, grabbed the rope, and climbed furiously. A roar filled his ears as the creature''s fetid breath rolled past him, propelling him toward the rock shelf and a blue glow just overhead.

    His breath came in ragged gasps as his sweaty hands slipped on the rope. He heaved himself up higher, but the rope stretched and grew thinner.

    He gripped the rope even tighter, but it squished like jelly between his fingers. Once again, he plummeted toward the open jaws with a strangled scream trapped in his lungs.

    Corvan sat bolt upright in his bed and wiped the sweat from his brow. A shiver crawled up his spine. The green rope and the search for the blue light were connected to stories his grandfather used to tell before he vanished. No doubt those same stories were also connected to his upcoming birthday. He had overheard snippets of conversation about his grandfather in the hushed discussions and arguments his parents were having as the day grew closer. No wonder the nightmare was coming more frequently.

    Pulling his knees in close, he wrapped his arms around them and gazed out the window. An owl hooted in the trees. A shadowed figure running on its hind legs moved past the southern gap between the boulders of Castle Rock. It crossed back again.

    The lizard!

    Slipping quietly from his bed, he quickly pulled on his jeans and t-shirt. A nighttime hunt for the mysterious reptile would be far better than facing dreams of caves and monsters back in bed. Besides, there was no school tomorrow; he could sleep in.

    Creeping down the stairs and through the kitchen, he eased himself out the back door. Swirls of dust rose between his toes as he moved past the outhouse and onto the worn path leading to the rock. A lone coyote barked at a moon ringed by dark clouds.

    Cutting away from the outhouse path, Corvan circled the base of Castle Rock just inside the tall stalks of ripening grain. Approaching the water channel cut into the west side of the rock, he dropped to all fours and crawled forward inside the smooth walls. The lone coyote barked again, closer this time. Corvan flattened himself against the cool stone. He could handle a single coyote but had no wish to encounter a pack alone in the dark. He listened intently, but there was no answering call.

    Instead, he heard the scratching of claws heading directly toward him.

    Corvan lifted his head above the edge of the channel in time to see a shadow detach itself from the protection of the rocks and dart toward him. The lizard! It was trotting alongside the water channel on its hind legs. Its eyes were glinting in the moonlight as it looked out over the field.

    Very close now, the lizard ran alongside the worn channel leading down to Corvan¡¯s hiding place. It was almost upon him when it abruptly veered off and disappeared into the wheat. A swath of stocks swayed with its passage.

    He had nothing to catch it in. What was he thinking? Slipping out of his t-shirt, Corvan tied the neck shut with the sleeves. The improvised sack wasn¡¯t near big enough to catch the large reptile. He could wrap the shirt around its head so it couldn¡¯t see but what if it ripped the thin cloth to shreds? What if it ripped him to shreds?

    He wanted to run to the house to find something stronger, but this might be his only chance to prove he was not a liar. Flattening himself into the water channel, he peered into the darkness where the lizard had disappeared.

    Time crawled by. The dark shadows from the clouds overhead moved across the rock and then launched out into the sea of grain like an armada of pirate ships sailing away in the night. They all vanished momentarily as a single brilliant flash illuminated the open prairie. Thunder rumbled overhead, and in the deep silence that followed, Corvan heard a sharp hiss.

    Rolling on his side, he found the bright eyes of the lizard watching him intently from the lower edge of the channel. Dropping a small bundle, it moved intently up the slope toward him with its gaze fixed on his face.

    The lizard was close enough for him to see the blue marks on its chest and a black collar around its neck. He hadn¡¯t noticed that before. Was it someone¡¯s pet?

    Its claws scraped across the rock as it hissed and clicked in angry tones, but then it stopped, raised its nose, and sniffed the air.

    Out of the darkness, a coyote bounded up from the field. Corvan shouted a warning, and the reptile twisted and ducked to evade the attack. The coyote skidded to a halt in front of Corvan, whirled about, then pounced on the lizard. The lizard rolled to one side. Its front claws raked the coyote''s lean face. The wounded animal yelped and stopped to wipe a paw over its torn nose. The lizard sprinted up the slope and disappeared into the circle of rocks. Shaking its head, the coyote leapt after it.

    Corvan jumped to his feet and darted inside the ring of boulders while waving his arms over his head and yelling at the coyote, which was now digging furiously in the dirt next to the central stone. It turned to him, snarling and weaving its head from side to side. Bubbles of saliva dripped from its black lips. Rabies!Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Resisting the urge to run, Corvan waved his hands over his head to make himself appear larger. The angry growl gave way to a whimper, and fear shone in the animal¡¯s eyes. Rabid animals were more aggressive. The wounded animal put its tail between its legs and stumbled out of the ring of rocks to disappear in a brilliant flash of lightning. An blast of thunder rolled across the darkening prairie. The storm had arrived.

    Drops of warm rain fell on Corvan¡¯s bare torso as he walked back to where he¡¯d dropped his shirt. Lightning crackled again, illuminating a small bundle of wheat on the ground. When he picked it up, he discovered a dozen or so short stalks neatly tied with a leather thong.

    ¡°Animals can¡¯t tie knots,¡± he whispered. ¡°Where did it get this from?¡± To examine the strange bundle more closely, he made his way up to the rocks and set it down while he untied his sleeves and tugged his shirt over his head. A spatter of rain fell on his upturned face as black clouds boiled in the sky overhead. The storm might turn into hail, maybe even a tornado. It was time to get back to the house.

    He turned to pick up the strange bundle of wheat, but it was gone. Whipping around, he saw a shadow slip beneath the large boulder where the coyote had been digging. The lizard had returned for its prize, but why would it want a bundle of wheat so badly?

    Powerful gusts of cold wind rushed past him. A blast of freezing rain pummeled the back of his head and sent a shiver through his body as he made a dash past the central rock and into the fort he and Kate had built on the other side. He squinted out the doorway at the light bulb swaying on his back porch. He was about to make a run for it when the clouds burst. Sheets of driving rain obscured his view.

    The tattered tarp roof whipped up in the wind and water dripped water on his head. Corvan backed away from the door and hunkered down to watch. A prairie storm this hard never lasted long.

    The rain pounding on the roof of the fort began to mix with the intermittent patter of hailstones. The walls of the fort swayed in gales of wind that whipped the hail through the open doorway. Huddled in the corner, Corvan watched as the water falling inside the Castle Rock gathered around the central boulder.

    Before the water could reach the channel heading down the western side of rock, it began to leak into the hole the coyote had dug into the soft dirt. The mound collapsed, and the muddy water rushed in and dropped away. The drain opened even wider, and a whirlpool formed, sucking the water away under the Castle Rock. A column of bubbles shot up through the whirlpool, and something bobbed to the surface of the water, swirling amid the hailstones. Corvan jumped to his feet and peered out the door. It was the sheaf of wheat.

    Splashing into the pond, he tried to grab the wheat, but it shot past his fingers and disappeared down the water funnel. Dropping to his knees in the freezing water, Corvan thrust his hand in to get it back. It was gone, but below the surface, the water was flowing into an empty space between two slabs of rock. He was just about to pull his numb hand out when he came up against a slender rock with a series of angular edges. It had to be a large quartz crystal, the perfect addition to his rock collection.

    He tugged, but it did not come free. He tried pushing down on it, but his hand slipped off the crystal and he fell hard, painfully jamming his arm between two slabs of stone and trapping his face under the water. Freezing water rose over the back of his head. His lungs screamed for air. He twisted his arm frantically and pushed against the bottom with his free hand. Finally, his trapped arm came free. He scrambled to his feet and stood looking down the whirlpool, gasping, and shivering in the cold wind. Where was all the water going? Were his grandfather¡¯s stories about a tunnel under the rock real?

    Lightning crackled, and the entire mound of rock shuddered with him as the rumble of thunder echoed through the stone below his feet. The whirlpool vanished, replaced by a rapidly rising tide of freezing water around his legs that were tightening the muscles in his calves into excruciating knots. The water washed out into the western channel, and Corvan followed it down the slope and home. Another flash of lighting, and the lightbulb on his back porch and all the lights in town winked out. Repeated flashes and peals of thunder followed him up the stairs and into his room, where he stood by his bed, dripping and staring through the gray curtain of rain at the Castle Rock.

    The numbness in his injured arm gave way to a growing warmth. He looked down and realized that under a coating of sticky mud, he was clutching the crystal. It grew warmer, and an intense wave of heat made the muck between his fingers steam. His fingers prickled as if tiny spiders were crawling between them.

    Was this still part of the dream? The rock grew hotter, and he flung it into the corner, where it thumped off the wall and landed with a dull clank in his metal wastebasket. He pinched his sore arm and winced. This was not a dream. The lizard was real; the space beneath Castle Rock was real; and he had almost drowned to retrieve whatever was in the can.

    Pulling the wastebasket over to his bed, he sat on the floor and looked over the edge.

    Whatever it was, it now lay below the dirty crumpled papers. In the panic of being under the water, his mind must have been playing tricks on him. He¡¯d likely just picked up some old bone a dog had buried. Moving the papers aside, he peered into the wastebasket.

    This was no dog bone.

    The mud that had coated the angular object had dried to form a halo of gray crumbs around a small hammer that was so black it seemed to absorb the light around it.

    He pulled the wastebasket closer. Over the drum of rain on the metal roof, he could hear a low hum. The noise was emanating from the hammer and being amplified by the tin walls of the can. As he reached inside, it fell silent. Wrapping his hand around the polished handle, he lifted it out.

    It was so beautifully balanced; he could hardly believe it was in his hand. Smoothing out a spot on his bedspread, he laid the hammer down. It sank deeply into the quilt. Against the yellow and white triangles, it looked like a velvety black hole cut into the cloth.

    The hammer was all one piece of black stone, and the head had seven distinct sides¡ªa heptagon. Miss Thompson would be proud he remembered the name of the unusual geometric shape. He picked it up again and examined it carefully. There were faint markings on the bottom of the handle. He would need his magnifying glass.

    As Corvan stepped past the window toward his shelf, an odd sensation washed over him¡ªit was as if the hammer was tugging on his hand and turning his body like a magnet around to the north.

    ¡°I should put it back.¡± The sound of his own voice startled him, and a dizzying surge of fear overwhelmed him. Turning away from the window, he dropped the hammer onto his washstand and stumbled to his bed.

    The nausea passed, and Corvan stared at the ceiling overhead. A shiver ran the length of his body, and he pulled the side of his quilt over to get warm. The words he had just said were not his own¡ªit was something his grandfather had said to him before Corvan had even learned to walk.

    A final soft flash of lightning pulsed through the room. Corvan closed his eyes to allow the distant memory to surface. He had held the hammer before! He was on his grandfather¡¯s lap in this very room when the man had wrapped his small hands around the smooth handle and had told him that it needed to go back. Back to where? Inside the Castle Rock? Maybe his grandfather had already fulfilled the task, but then, where had the man gone and why had he left Corvan behind?

    The rain drumming on the roof overhead slowed his racing thoughts.

    In the morning, he would ask his father what this might all mean.

 Hammer 4

    A foggy dawn was swirling through the aspen trees when Corvan opened his eyes. The screen door banged, and he could hear his father singing as he washed up on the back porch over the hum of the rain. The song floated into Corvan¡¯s room and filled the misty air with images of ancient battles and long-lost civilizations. After his father went back into the house, the refrain, like the chant of prisoners in chains, continued to cycle through Corvan¡¯s mind.

    The smell of bacon wafted up the stairs. It had been a long time since they had enjoyed a real breakfast. ¡°Corvan,¡± his mother called from the foot of the stairs, ¡°food¡¯s getting cold. Make sure you wash your hands.¡±

    ¡°Coming!¡± Corvan called back as he was already throwing off the quilt and stepping over to the washbasin.

    The black hammer lay in the shallow water of the basin where he had dropped it as he stumbled back to bed. After the strange events of the night before, he had no desire to pick it up and see what it might do. He needed more time to figure things out. Dipping his fingers into the water, he wiped his hands on his jeans then shut his bedroom door firmly behind him.

    His father waited at the table with a mug of steaming coffee in his hands. He looked up at Corvan. ¡°You sure are getting hard of hearing these days. Must come from being outside in a thunderstorm.¡±

    ¡°That makes two of you,¡± his mother said as she brought a plate of pancakes to the table.

    His dad patted her arm as she sat down. ¡°It¡¯s impossible to stay inside on a night like that. I might even enjoy farming if I could do it in the dark.¡±

    He passed the pancakes to Corvan. ¡°Do you remember running past me last night by the outhouse?¡±

    Corvan¡¯s heart skipped a beat, but he tried to look nonchalant. For the time being, he wasn¡¯t going to share his discovery with anyone else. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you.¡±

    ¡°I was right by the path when you came bolting by.¡± His father¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°You looked like you¡¯d been wrestling some poor creature out of a mud hole. What did you find this time?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. I just needed to get the mud off my hands.¡±

    Corvan shoved another piece of bacon into his mouth. Why was his father always so interested in everything that happened out at the rock? The Castle was his special place, and his father rarely went there. He looked intently at his plate and speared another piece of bacon onto his fork. ¡°It was just the mud. I didn¡¯t find anything this time.¡±

    Corvan kept eating, but it seemed like forever before his father spoke to Corvan¡¯s mother and suggested they go into the city to pick up a few things.

    ¡°Would you like to come along?¡± his mother asked. ¡°Maybe you could pick out something for your birthday. I¡¯ve saved a bit of money, and it¡¯s just over a week until your big day.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d better stay here,¡± Corvan said. ¡°My fort fell apart in the storm, and I need to fix it up.¡± It was partly true, but what he really wanted was to be left alone to find out more about the hammer and where the water had been flowing under the central rock.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to come along, but if you stay home, remember to stay out of the cellar,¡± his father said. ¡°It¡¯s not your birthday yet.¡±

    As soon as his parents began to discuss the trip to the city and what they could afford to pick up, Corvan took the opportunity to a mumble a quick, thanks for breakfast, grab his rain jacket off a peg, and exit out the back door.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The rain had tapered off into a light mist. The dull sky mirrored his feelings as he passed under the dripping trees and skirted the mud puddles on the path. He cut out toward the steep side of the rock beyond the outhouse. He wanted to get to the top and out of sight as soon as possible.

    As Corvan stepped into the ring of stones, the screen door squeaked. He crouched down behind the nearest rock.

    ¡°Corvan,¡± his mother called out. ¡°We¡¯re ready to go if you want to change your mind.¡±

    He was sure she knew where he had gone, but he stayed low and still. A few minutes later, he heard the truck bumping down the lane. As soon as the sound faded away, he headed back toward the house and sprinted up the stairs to his room.

    He stood a long while at the washbasin, just admiring the hammer¡¯s cold beauty. His grandfather had intended to give it to him from an early age, and it contained some sort of power. If he learned how to use it, he could change how people viewed him. He leaned in closer, glad now that he had not told his father about it. Lately, his dad was only interested in him when he was pressing him for information about the Castle Rock. If he needed to lie to his father to keep the hammer a secret, so be it.

    He reached into the basin, and a blue glow lit up the markings on the bottom of the shaft as his fingers touched the handle. Mesmerized, he lifted the hammer from the water. A sense of power flowed up his arm and into his chest. He held it higher. Strong emotions surged, and he spoke fiercely. ¡°This hammer belongs to me now. I won¡¯t let my father or anyone else take it away.¡±

    A flash of electric blue light shot out from the end of the handle, twisted down his arm, over his shoulder, and toward his face. The crackling shaft of light shoved him away from the washstand. He fell hard against the wall next to his bed.

    Sagging to the floor, Corvan thought it sounded like a swarm of bees buzzing around his room. He shook his head and blinked his eyes until they cleared. The sound came from his washstand, where a column of steam was rising from the basin.

    Crawling along his bed he grasped the bedpost, pulled himself upright, and peered into the basin. The water was gone. The sides of the basin were scorched and warped. Small flakes of enamel had cracked from twisted edges to create a speckled ring on the washstand.

    The hammer must be radioactive. It was the only logical explanation. And now that he had brought it inside, his family would get sick and maybe even die!

    Corvan shook his head. That didn¡¯t add up. The hammer had been stuck under the boulder in the center of his fort for years, and it had not made him or Kate sick from playing over top of it. He moved closer. The water was gone, and the last wisp of steam melted away. The hammer lay inside the bowl, and there was no glow on its base.

    Where had his grandfather found it? Could it be from his grandmother¡¯s side, the native people of the area? His father had collected a lot of native artifacts by the river caves, but none of them looked like the small hammer or had any sort of internal power.

    Could it have been left on the rock by people from outer space? Some believed that Stonehenge was built by aliens, so maybe they had also created the Castle Rock and had left the hammer behind as a gift for mankind? When his grandfather said it needed to go back, he may have meant to its home world? Maybe the lizard was an alien who had been left behind to keep the hammer safe?

    There were so many possibilities, but regardless of where it came from, it had both warmed his hand when he was cold and then shocked him when he was angry with his dad. The hammer must be able to sense his emotions and was defending itself.

    He took a deep breath, and he moved squarely in front of the basin. ¡°I know the hammer is not mine,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I will put it back on the Castle Rock where it belongs.¡±

    The memory of the searing blue light made his heart flutter, but as his hand hovered over the handle, he sensed that it was not going to hurt him this time.

    As he closed his hand around the shaft, he first felt a tingling sensation and then only the warmth of the stone. Corvan carried it to his bed, lay on his back, and held it overhead. The warmth flowed down his sore arm. The pain melted away.

    He drew it down to his chest, and a sense of peace wrapped itself around him like a warm blanket. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, exhausted from the long night and everything that had happened.

    As he faded into sleep, the nightmare tunnels returned, but this time, as he wandered through the caves, he felt strangely at home in the darkness. The monster and green rope were nowhere to be seen. Instead, a rectangular opening appeared in the cavern wall up ahead. It was a wooden window frame, complete with a screen.

    As he drew closer, a shadow fell across the rusty metal mesh.

    A razor-thin claw thrust in near the top and shredded its way down to the bottom.

 Hammer 5

    The bang of the screen door startled Corvan out of a deep sleep. His parents had returned, and, judging from the light coming in his window, it was almost time for supper. At least there was no jagged rip in the window screen. The lizard was out there on the rock, maybe even waiting for him to return.

    Rolling out of bed, he grunted as the handle of the hammer jabbed his ribs. He pulled it from under the quilt and checked it over. There was no glow or warmth, just cold stone. Things had changed. It was time to talk to his father and find out where his grandfather was taking the hammer on the night he disappeared.

    He pushed it under his pillow. He would wait until he could talk to his dad in private. No use in alarming his mother with a story of being attacked by a wild animal out at the rock. She didn¡¯t like his special place much and might tell him not to go back. He closed the door quietly and head down the stairs.

    ¡°Did you play on your rock the whole day?¡± his mother asked as he entered the kitchen. ¡°You didn¡¯t fill the wood box, and I¡¯ll be baking bread tomorrow for the next farmer¡¯s market.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it in a bit. I need to ask Dad something.¡±

    ¡°What about?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. I just need¡ª¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s nothing, it can wait until you fill the wood box.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it later.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how many times I¡¯ve heard that?¡± she asked.

    Corvan nodded. ¡°I know. I¡¯m sorry. I really will do it as soon as I talk with Dad.¡±

    Mother stopped what she was doing, looked at him for a moment, then nodded. ¡°He¡¯s working out front.¡±

    His father was by the hood of his truck, where he was wiping off the dipstick. ¡°Hasn¡¯t lost a drop since the last oil change. I think the old girl will still be going when you take her over.¡± He smiled at Corvan.

    Corvan leaned on the fender. His father took the air filter apart and wiped the inside. He was seemingly oblivious to the tension his son was feeling.

    ¡°I lied to you.¡± His words hung in the air.

    ¡°I know.¡± His father straightened and looked at him. ¡°Would you like to talk about it?¡±

    Corvan nodded just as the dinner bell rang on the back porch.

    His dad pushed the hood shut. ¡°After supper then. I¡¯ll meet you at the firepit on the rock.¡± Their eyes met briefly, then they walked together in silence to the back porch to wash up.

    As soon as supper was over, Corvan filled the wood box while his father helped with the dishes. His dad nodded at him to go ahead without him. No doubt he wanted to talk to his mother about what was going on.

    The long shadows of the aspen trees were creeping across the yard. The North Star shone out in the darkening sky, but the warmth of the day still clung to the autumn air.

    Leaving the yard behind, he approached the rock. It appeared much more mysterious in the muted shadows of twilight, as if it were the grave of an ancient warrior king waiting to arise and lead his people into battle. His father said the rock was a sacred place to the people who once lived in the area. They believed the rock had the power to protect them from their enemies, but in the end, they had been defeated and vanished from the area.

    Corvan climbed to the top, entered the gap, and turned back to look across into his bedroom window. At one point, he heard that it was his grandfather who had cut the stone out of the circle and had rolled it into the center. Corvan¡¯s father said that the boulders around the rim had all been cut out of the crown of the hill. He asked Corvan to keep it a secret because he didn¡¯t want the people from the university poking around again.

    Corvan¡¯s fort had been reduced to a muddy pile of broken boards. The water had completely drained from the center of the rocks and left a soggy patch where he¡¯d found the hammer. The only water left was a muddy puddle inside the ring of stones they used for a firepit.

    His father¡¯s song rose strong and clear on the breeze as he strode up the western slope. He was carrying a box wrapped in an old blanket and an armful of firewood. He wasn¡¯t wearing his sunglasses, and he looked more like his old self. He smiled warmly at Corvan. ¡°How about getting a fire going up by your fort while I go get a bit more wood?¡±

    ¡°We might have enough if we use the broken boards from our fort,¡± Corvan said, pointing up the slope. ¡°It got knocked flat in the storm, but the firepit is full of water.¡±

    Setting the firewood and the strange long bundle down, his father climbed up to take a quick look. ¡°I see what you mean. Let¡¯s build our fire out here instead. I¡¯ll pick some of this up while you get the firewood ready.¡±

    Corvan arranged the kindling and firewood his father had brought. As his dad came through the gap in the castle rocks with a few short boards, the last golden rays of the day captured a noble look on his face, like a warrior king about to embark on an important quest.

    His father placed a few broken boards to one side and retrieved a pack of matches from his pocket. A moment later, flickering flames lit the craggy features of his face. The wood crackled and they sat watching the flames in silence for a long while before his father spoke.

    ¡°I am proud of you for letting me know you did not tell the truth. Your grandfather would be pleased as well, for it is a sign that you understand what it takes to be a leader.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s chest swelled with pride. He¡¯d done something right for a change. Perhaps there was hope for him after all.

    His father leaned back and looked into the sky. ¡°Can you imagine not seeing a single star in your lifetime? Never enjoying the vastness of a night sky or feeling the pull of a full moon?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Corvan shook his head as his father continued, ¡°There was a time when our people didn¡¯t see these things.¡± He leaned forward, put his palm flat against the rock beside him, and stared at it. ¡°I¡¯m not quite sure where I should begin or how much I¡¯m supposed to tell you.¡±

    Corvan didn¡¯t know what to say. He had been expecting his father to ask him about what he¡¯d found out at the rock.

    His father stared into fire, deep in thought.

    Corvan moved closer to break the chill of the breeze that had flowed in on the heels of the setting sun.

    The nearby hooting of an owl broke the silence. His father reached beside him and pulled the blanket-wrapped object onto his lap. Pushing the coarse fabric aside, he revealed a long wooden box. Firelight flickered across the polished ebony surface as if the box itself were on fire. Was this an early birthday present his parents had picked up in town? He glanced up to find his father studying him.

    ¡°Your grandfather left this with me, and he made the case to keep it safe.¡± He tapped on the polished top. ¡°I¡¯m definitely not as good with wood as he was.¡±

    ¡°But you can make just about anything out of metal,¡± Corvan said. The forged ring around my lightbulb looks great and it sure is strong. If I stand on my bed, I can hang from it.¡±

    His father grinned. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how your grandfather attached that ring to the beams so that might not be the best idea. I didn¡¯t make that piece. Your grandfather brought it back with him. I¡¯m not even sure what sort of metal that is. I had a hard time drilling the holes for him to hang it down in my shop.¡±

    Corvan nodded eagerly, glad to be chatting so freely. ¡°Sometimes, when I am in my fort, I can feel you pounding on stuff down in the cellar.¡±

    His father¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You can feel that out here?¡±

    Corvan nodded.

    ¡°That¡¯s good to know,¡± his father said, more to himself than to Corvan. ¡°The cellar is connected. It is the same rock.¡±

    ¡°I really felt it the night of the storm,¡± Corvan interjected. ¡°It was like you¡¯d set off an explosion underground.¡±

    A mischievous smile crinkled the corners of his father¡¯s eyes. He looked like a boy caught stealing apples. ¡°I¡¯ve been working on something down there at night. I¡¯ll show it to you after your birthday, and no using the dumbwaiter for a peek ahead of time.¡± His father smiled at him, and Corvan grinned back. The dumbwaiter was a small elevator that connected the kitchen to the cellar below. Exactly why his grandfather had built it was a mystery, but Corvan could easily crouch inside and move himself up and down without having to go outside.

    ¡°Your grandfather was supposed to be here on your fifteenth birthday to tell you everything you needed to know.¡± He looked up into the sky for a long moment. ¡°He and I never talked that much even when he was around. I failed to recognize the danger he was in, and that I might never see him again.¡±

    His father¡¯s eyes glinted softly in the firelight. ¡°All he told me was that you would need this someday.¡± He tapped a finger on the black case. ¡°¡®He must have it,¡¯ he told me, ¡®When he is ready, for this one is the Cor-Van.¡¯¡±

    The way his father said his name, pausing in the middle and stressing the last syllable, made Corvan¡¯s skin prickle. It seemed the shadows of the trees grew darker, and he put another board on the fire.

    ¡°It was he who named you,¡± his father said over the crackling of the wood. ¡°Your mother chose a different name, but he insisted on Corvan. If he was right, you will know soon, for your day is almost here.¡± He looked intently into Corvan¡¯s eyes. ¡°Do you remember the story of this rock?¡±

    ¡°The betrayal and final battle?¡±

    Father nodded. ¡°There are always those who want power over others. The old ways leave no room for that, but, in the end, our people were outnumbered and wiped out, except for one warrior.¡±

    ¡°The one who built the castle, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. That part of the legend is not true. The circle of rocks goes back much further than him or his tribe. It started eons ago, back with the lost people.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    His father frowned. ¡°I¡¯m not completely sure of that history.¡± He stared beyond the fire at the castle, and then he turned back to look intently into Corvan¡¯s eyes. ¡°The one thing I have been told is that your future is tied to that circle of stones.¡±

    The dinner bell on the back porch rang urgently, and his father glanced over his shoulder. ¡°Something is up. Your mother must need to talk to me.¡± He wrapped the blanket back around the wooden case. ¡°I¡¯ll have to show you this another time. Your grandfather made me promise I would give it to you before your fifteenth year began. He said you would be old enough to choose between fear and duty by then.¡± He stood. ¡°You proved him right today.¡±

    His father was trying to make him feel better, but instead he found his stomach churning. The thought of becoming an adult held no attraction for him. The future held many more worries. The only positive part about turning fifteen was being allowed to grow out his hair. He hoped that without a crew cut he would look a little less like a child and some of the teasing would end.

    They left the dying fire and returned to the house. On the porch, Corvan looked back. The flickering embers and wisps of smoke gave the rock the appearance of a volcano teetering on the edge of an eruption.

    Inside the house, they paused at the foot of the stairs. His father put a hand on his shoulder as if he had more to say, but instead he just nodded, entered his own bedroom, and shut the door.

    Back upstairs, Corvan closed his door, sat on the bed, and pulled his pillow away to expose the hammer. ¡°So, how are you connected to what¡¯s in black box?¡± he whispered. ¡°My grandfather must have rolled the middle stone over to keep you safe.¡± He touched the handle and the soft glow from the strange markings on the base of the handle sprang to life. He leaned in closer. The light was from an insignia on the bottom of the handle, a ring within a ring, with strange figures between the two. He knew that design! The markings on the hammer were identical to those on the oak chest in the corner of his room!

    Hammer in hand, he rolled off the side of the bed just as the phone in the kitchen rang with their distinctive party line code. There was a short, muffled conversation before his father hung up. His mother spoke and chairs scraped across the floor. His parents were settling in at the table for a talk.

    The glow from the hammer filled the room with waves of blue light that washed over the large oak chest against the far wall. As his feet touched down, the floorboards groaned under his weight. He pulled back onto his bed. There was no way he could make it to the chest without his parents hearing him. He listened carefully. There was a pause in their conversation, and then the back screen door squeaked and banged.

    Jumping back into bed, Corvan pushed the hammer under his pillow. One of them must be heading for the outhouse, and he couldn¡¯t have them see his room full of blue light. He would need to wait for them to go to bed before checking out the chest.

    The moon crept out from behind a cloud and its light landed squarely on the oak chest. In the pale white light, the large chest looked like a stone coffin, or like the sarcophagus that King Arthur was buried in, with its thick lid hanging out over the edges.

    The rings and the strange markings from the hammer were highlighted on the front of the chest. The insignia was larger, and there was a hole in the center that appeared to be about the same size as the handle of the hammer. Since his grandfather had made the chest, the stone hammer was some sort of key that should reveal a secret compartment.

    Reaching under his pillow, he wrapped his hand around the hammer. Blue light leaked out the side, and he lay his head down to cover it up. Once again, the comforting warmth from the hammer ebbed up his arm along with a growing weariness. He tried to fight it off and to stay awake until his parents went to bed. He wanted to test out his theory with the chest, but the sleepy calm spreading through his body and mind could not be pushed away. He tried to let go of the hammer, but it was too late.

 Hammer 6

    When Corvan woke up, he was lying on his back. The hammer was on his chest with both hands folded over it. He had finally slept peacefully through a night without any bad dreams.

    Hammer in hand, he rolled out of bed and tiptoed across the floor to his grandfather¡¯s oak chest. It was over four feet wide and so heavy it had never been moved from the place where it rested. If his theory from the previous night was correct, when he inserted the hammer¡¯s handle into the hole in the front of the chest, a secret compartment should open inside the chest.

    Gently propping the thick lid against the wall, he checked inside. Each of the sliding trays was filled with treasures he had collected over the years: bottle caps, agates, arrowheads¡ªanything he could scavenge around town and the area around their farm.

    Kneeling in front of the chest, he examined the design his grandfather had carved into the front panel. It looked identical to what he¡¯d seen glowing on the end of the hammer¡¯s handle, only the carved version was twice the size. In its center, there was a shallow hole exactly the size of a half dollar. He knew this for a fact as a year ago he¡¯d pushed the fifty-cent piece he received for his fourteenth birthday into the hole. It got stuck, but since it seemed as good a place as any to save it, he had left it there.

    A board creaked on the stairs up to his room. Jumping to his feet, Corvan closed the chest, and dove back under the covers, thrusting the hammer under his pillow. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

    The door open, and his mother spoke. ¡°You won¡¯t get a proper rest if you stay up so late you need to sleep in.¡±

    Corvan pulled his head back under the covers like a shy turtle. He was hoping she would think he was too tired and let him be.

    ¡°You need to get up, eat your breakfast, then clean up the rest of the dishes. Your father was called to another meeting at the mine, and I¡¯ll be baking bread and canning peas. You¡¯ve got five minutes.¡± Her footsteps echoed down the stairs.

    Corvan hoped his father¡¯s meeting at the mine meant it would reopen and he could get back to work. Personally, he wouldn¡¯t like to be underground all day and only come up at night, but his dad thrived on it. He spent as much time underground as possible and was always reading about mines and caves. He repeatedly told Corvan that the continental crust of the earth was more than twenty-five miles thick, but most mines and caves were less than a mile deep. ¡°There¡¯s a whole world below us waiting to be discovered,¡± he would say.

    Under the covers, the hammer¡¯s blue insignia was glowing softly. He turned it around until the letters were in the same orientation as on the front of the chest. If the hammer was a key to open the chest, then whatever was hidden inside must be a special fifteenth birthday present.

    Throwing the covers off, Corvan dropped to his knees in front of the chest. He didn¡¯t have much time, and his hands trembled as he lifted the hammer toward the hole. A loud thump almost made him drop it. His mother banged again on the kitchen ceiling with her broom handle. Corvan groaned. If he didn¡¯t move fast, she would come up and make sure he was awake and washing up. Placing the hammer inside the chest, he covered it with his stamp collection book and closed the lid. He moved silently down the stairs as he was getting dressed.

    The scene in the kitchen caught him off guard. His mother was at the sink, and a dishcloth hung limply in her hand as she stared into the backyard. She was singing his special song in a quiet, broken voice.

    Backing out of the kitchen, he made his way back up to the landing. What was going on? His parents were both acting strange. After crouching at the top of the stairs for a few minutes, he heard his mother putting dishes away in the cupboards. Corvan bounded down the stairs, this time humming loudly. As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, the screen door banged shut behind his mother.

    Two pancakes smeared with a thin coating of raspberry jam sat on the table. He rolled one up and slurped the jam that squeezed out the center. Maybe he should show the hammer to his mother. He shook his head. Not yet. First, he needed to see what was hidden in the chest. After finishing off the second pancake, he sunk his plate into the soapy water. He didn¡¯t mind washing dishes¡ªthe warm water from the tank on the side of the woodstove was comforting, and as he worked, he could look out the window toward the Castle Rock and let his imagination run wild.

    As he was drying the last plate, his mother came around the corner of the house to the back porch with a basket full of pea pods at her hip. She smiled at him through the window, and he hurried to the door and took the basket from her.

    ¡°Thanks for finishing the dishes.¡± She patted his back as he set the basket on the table. ¡°I¡¯ll need all the kitchen space to shell and process the peas.¡±

    Corvan detested shelling peas, but it seemed he should at least offer to help. ¡°Is there anything I can do?¡±

    His mother laughed. ¡°Before your father left for his meeting, he said I should give you a break from your chores since it¡¯s almost your birthday. You could spend the day out at that rock of yours if you like.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you like the rock?¡± The question came out before he could stop himself, and he winced.

    She retrieved a blue ceramic bowl from under the cupboard and returned to the table. ¡°Why would you say that?¡± she asked. Her fingers flew with practiced ease as shelled peas rolled inside the chipped bowl.

    Corvan took a handful of pea pods and sat across from her. ¡°I never see you come near it, except on my birthday.¡±

    Mother¡¯s fingers slowed. ¡°It¡¯s because I don¡¯t like to think about what might happen out there.¡± She dropped an empty pod into the pile at her side. ¡°It¡¯s not the rock or your fort, Corvan. It¡¯s . . . it¡¯s so much more. I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯m supposed to say to you ¡­¡±

    He hunched over the peas. ¡°That¡¯s what Father said last night.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Your father is trying to do what he thinks is best for you.¡± She stopped shelling and looked at him. ¡°If what your grandfather told us is true, then things will unfold in their own time. I don¡¯t even understand how it could open when the key piece is missing.¡±

    Corvan thoughts went to the hammer sitting in the chest. Was that the key?

    ¡°If it isn¡¯t true,¡± she said, ¡°or it¡¯s not the right time, why should we burden you with what might never affect you?¡±

    Corvan dropped a few peas into her bowl. ¡°Can¡¯t you at least tell me something about what might be coming?¡±

    His mother came around the table to hug him from behind. Corvan dropped his head and stared at the pods in his hand. She leaned in close and spoke quietly in his ear. ¡°If what your grandfather said is true, we will see you grow into a great leader.¡±

    Corvan frowned. A great leader? How could the shortest, skinniest, most picked-on kid in the school ever be a great leader?

    His mother smiled down at him. ¡°I¡¯m sure things will open up in due time. I¡¯m just not ready for those changes and saying good-bye to my only one.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s heart lifted. He liked it when she called him ¡°my only one.¡± It was a name she used only when no one else was around. The words were from the special song she had sung to him ever since he was little.

    ¡°So, are you going to shell peas all day or is there something else you want to do?¡± Her amused smile suggested she already knew the answer.

    ¡°You¡¯ll finish the peas faster if I am not here to distract you with my questions.¡±

    Mother laughed as he headed for the stairs. ¡°Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t give you a choice.¡±

    Corvan climbed the stairs to the sound of peas hitting the growing pile.

    After he closed his bedroom door, Corvan retrieved the hammer from inside the chest and knelt on the floor. His mother¡¯s cryptic words about saying goodbye had startled him. What if this was like Pandora¡¯s box and bad things would start to happen? He cradled the hammer in his hands. It did not feel dangerous. He took a deep breath before he grasped the head of the hammer like an oversized key and fed it slowly into the hole.

    A loud humming filled his ears, and excitement rose in his chest. The sweet smell of burning oak filled his nostrils as wisps of smoke curled into the air. Sparks shot out from around the butt of the handle.

    The coin! He¡¯d forgotten the half dollar. He yanked the handle out of the hole and stuck his finger inside. With a yelp, he yanked it back out while wincing in pain at the sight of his blistered fingertip.

    He scrambled to the washstand before he remembered that the charred bowl was completely dry. He needed something cold to ease the pain! The smooth handle of the hammer in front of the chest beckoned to him, and he ran back to press his stinging finger against the cool stone. Instantly, the pain eased, and then it melted away.

    Corvan finally released his breath. He pulled his hand back and examined his finger. It was a little red, but there was no welt; the blister was gone. He looked in amazement at the hammer. First, it seemed intent on killing him. Now, it was healing him. It appeared to have a mind of its own.

    Turning his attention back to the chest, he found the wood around the hole charred and cracked. The blackened coin was still stuck inside. He opened the lid of the chest to dig out his grandfather¡¯s carving set. Choosing the smallest chisel, he pried gently on the edge of the coin.

    The blackened circle of warped metal flicked out of the hole and skittered across the wood floor along an erratic path toward the washstand. Corvan crawled after it as it wobbled to a halt and fell flat. When he touched it gingerly, he found it cool enough to pick up.

    One side still showed a man¡¯s head, but the other now carried the imprint from the design on the bottom of the hammer¡¯s handle. He sliding the coin into his pants¡¯ pocket and crawled quickly back to the chest. Holding his breath again, he inserted the handle. He thought he heard a whispering buzz, but it was only a bee at the window. He tried again and turned the head of the hammer as he held it in place. Nothing happened. He pushed harder, twisting it around in circles. Still nothing.

    That stupid coin had wrecked it! He would never know what the hammer was supposed to do. He stood up and let the heavy lid fall back into place. He was turning away when, as it banged down, a thin panel of wood on the very top of the lid flew up a few inches on a hidden hinge and then snapped back down into place.

    Corvan stared for a moment, and then he stooped to grasp the front lip of the lid. He pulled gently, but, as usual, the entire heavy lid rose from the chest. He let it drop again, but nothing happened.

    Falling to his knees, he fumbled to get the handle of the hammer back into the keyhole. This time, he was sure the faint hum was coming from inside the chest. Holding his breath again, he gripped only the topmost edge and a thin panel lifted away to reveal a gray cloth lining. He smiled. His grandfather would have laughed at all the times he lifted the heavy lid to look for a secret compartment somewhere inside the chest.

    He pulled the cloth. It stretched but didn¡¯t come free. Feeling along the edges, he discovered five black buttons holding the cloth in place. After he released them, he pulled the gray material onto his lap. The shallow compartment had been separated into niches of various shapes and sizes. His grandfather must have spent a lot of time on this part of the chest, but most of the indentations were empty, including a set of matching curved ones running along the top.

    A coil of green rope caught his eye. He poked at it: it was soft and pliable, more like a living vine than a piece of rope. This was the rope from his dreams and the stories his grandfather had told him.

    In a nearby compartment was a small metallic book. Finally, he''d get some answers.

    Bound in thin metal covers, the book¡¯s top was etched with the hammer¡¯s insignia, but when he tried to pick it up, he discovered that the book, like the other items in the lid, were held into their softly padded indentations with a set of silver metal clips. His attempts to twist one off to the side only resulted in a broken fingernail.

    Grabbing up the chisel from the carving set, he carefully slid it under the clip and pulled up. Nothing budged. He leaned in close to add more pressure, and the chisel snapped, leaving a thin scratch across the cover of the book.

    Annoyed, he whirled around, grabbed the hammer, and then spun back to the chest. ¡°When all else fails, give it a smack,¡± he said, rapping on the clip. All the clips holding the book in place popped up and swiveled 180 degrees.

    ¡°Now, that¡¯s cool,¡± Corvan said with a grin. He picked up the book and crawled over to lean back against the end of his bed. It was a small book, about five inches square and no thicker than his index finger. Despite its small size, it was heavy, as if he were holding the history of the entire world in his hands. Thick pages lay between the covers, but the covers would not open. There was no latch like the one on his mom¡¯s diary.

    He retrieved the hammer and placed the end of its handle in the center of the insignia etched into the front of the book. Without a sound, the covers separated to reveal pages that were soft and flexible, more like cloth than paper. The first page contained only the original insignia and what looked to be a signature at the bottom. Corvan¡¯s hands trembled. He turned the next page, and then another, and another. The entire book was full of pictograph figures, sketches of odd creatures, and a few detailed maps of locations that made no sense at all.

    As he fanned through the last pages, a yellowed paper fluttered to the floor. It was a folded section of a newspaper printed on September 19, 1939. Tucked inside was a scrap of lined note paper written on in English. The first words leaped from the page.

    <em style="font-weight: 400">My dear grandson, Corvan

 Hammer 7

    The letter was written in a scrawling hand that slanted steeply across the page.

    I must return tonight, so I will miss your birthday.

    I don¡¯t know how I missed it, but it is clear to me now. The Cor-Van must be from both sides; it is the only way we will defeat him. I know he will never be content until he conquers everything.

    When I complete my task, I will return both to you. You are the Cor-Van, and they must come back to your hand.

    I am looking forward to the time we will have together as you grow. I will do a much better job of explaining this in person, and I can hardly wait to begin your training.

    Keep them close by at all times. Learn their differences and remember that all three must be used together.

    Three? Corvan looked down at the hammer on the floor. That had to be one of them, but what about the other two? One might be the book, but he couldn¡¯t read it. Was the third one in the long black box? How could he keep them close if he didn¡¯t even know what they were? He looked back to the letter.

    Do not trust the dark-eyed ones, and, whatever you do, never mention the hammer to anyone, not even those you think are with us. Do not use your title until all is ready. Use only the name your mother calls you.

    You will be in constant danger, so make sure that you also take along ¡­

    The letter ended with an inch of space left, and the back side was blank. Yet his grandfather had taken the time to fold the letter up inside the piece of newspaper.

    A sense of helplessness overwhelmed him. Something was about to happen to him, and he was entirely unprepared. His grandfather¡¯s letter was unclear, and it didn¡¯t sound like his father would be much help. The hammer was obviously the key to everything, but beyond that, the letter was nonsense. He folded it back inside the newspaper and tucked it back in the book. Maybe something else in the chest would provide a clue. He pressed the book into its niche, and the clips pivoted and snapped into place.

    He turned his attention to the coil of rope. His suspicion that it was the same one from his reoccurring nightmare was confirmed when he pinched it and the thin strand squished flat between his fingertips.

    His head came up quickly, and he stared at his bed. A clear memory of playing with this rope on what was then his grandfather¡¯s bed came to mind, and in it he was laughing hysterically. Why would he think a rope was funny? Picking up the hammer, he released the clips holding the coils in place, but before he could lift it out, the squeak of the landing stair outside his room threw him into a panic. He yanked the lid of the secret compartment down into place, jammed the hammer into his back pocket, and shoved the chisels under his bed.

    His mother stepped inside the door and shut it behind her. ¡°Kate is downstairs, and she¡¯s not happy,¡± she whispered. ¡°Did you promise to help pick berries this morning?¡±

    Corvan shrugged, and she shook her head at him.

    ¡°Because you didn¡¯t show up, she did it herself, but she wants to know if you will help clean them.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s face flushed. He had told Kate he would help her with that chore, but that was before she quit talking to him. How was he supposed to know she still expected him to show up? As he was getting to his feet, the gray cloth fell into a pile at his feet. He tried nonchalantly pushing it under the bed with his toe.

    ¡°You need to get downstairs and make things right with Kate.¡± She turned to leave and looked back at him. ¡°By the way, kicking that quilt under your bed does not constitute cleaning your room. Fold it and put it back into the chest.¡±

    He nodded.

    ¡°Do it now, so I know it¡¯s been taken care of.¡±

    As Corvan collected the cloth, his mother stared at him with a frown on her face.

    ¡°It took me hours to sew those quilt pieces together. I don¡¯t like to see it tossed on your dirty floor.¡±

    Corvan looked from her face to the cloth. Was she joking? How could his mother mistake the gray cloth for his brightly colored winter quilt?

    ¡°Fold it neatly. And don¡¯t make Kate wait any longer, or you¡¯ll get an earful.¡± With that she left the room. The door clicked shut behind her.

    Corvan waited until he heard the squeak of the landing step before he pulled the hammer from his back pocket and unlocked the secret compartment. Spreading the gray cloth back over the inside of the lid, he buttoned it down, made sure the lid was locked, and then hurried downstairs.

    He found Kate sitting at the kitchen table, where she was finishing off a piece of bread with raspberry jelly. Two full pails of berries sat on the table, and, judging from the twigs and leaves stuck in her tangled red hair, Kate must have worked hard to pick them so quickly. As Corvan entered, she gave him a withering look from behind her bangs.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Sorry, Kate, I was ¡­ ¡±

    Kate waved him off. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me any of your excuses. I know how much you hate picking berries. Trust me, it¡¯s not my favorite chore either, but my mom needs these and all the pastry ready when she gets home tonight.¡±

    Kate¡¯s mother baked the best Saskatoon berry pies for miles around and made extra money selling them to the caf¨¦ where she worked. Unfortunately, she often lost it all playing bingo.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help you, Kate,¡± Corvan¡¯s mother said while giving him a disapproving look. ¡°I¡¯ll mix up the pastry for you to take home.¡±

    Kate¡¯s face brightened. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯m sure my mom will appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°How many pies is she going to make, dear?¡±

    ¡°She said only six. They aren¡¯t selling as many now that summer vacation is over.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll fix the pastry while you two clean the berries.¡± She smiled at Kate as she passed her a clean pail.

    Corvan picked up the other pail of berries and followed Kate out to the back steps. As he sat down next to her, the sweet aroma of lilacs rose about him. The lilac bush in the yard bristled with seed pods, however, and its flowers had long faded and blown away. Kate tossed her head and a fresh wave passed.

    He leaned closer and sniffed. ¡°You¡¯re not wearing perfume, are you?¡±

    Kate bent over her pail of berries, and a pink blush touching her freckled cheeks. ¡°My dad sent it for my birthday.¡±

    Shoot. He had forgotten her birthday. He caught another whiff of her perfume. It reminded him of their recent spring nights on the front porch swing looking at the stars together. ¡°I lick likelacs. I mean, I lake laclicks.¡± He stopped and took a deep breath. ¡°It smells nice.¡±

    She looked sideways at him from the berries with a smile tugging at her lips. ¡°Thanks, I like lilacs too.¡±

    Corvan face was getting warm. ¡°I found something out at the rock,¡± he blurted out. He was desperate to change the subject.

    Kate rolled her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you were trying to catch your imaginary lizard.¡±

    ¡°I have to prove¡ª¡±

    ¡°The kids will laugh you out of town if you don¡¯t drop that story. I couldn¡¯t believe you used it for your oral report. That was your tallest tale yet. My mom even heard about it at the caf¨¦.¡±

    Corvan focused on sorting the berries. He had expected Kate to be more supportive.

    ¡°So, what was it?¡± Kate looked at him.

    ¡°What was what?¡±

    ¡°The thing you found that you couldn¡¯t tear yourself away from to meet me on time.¡±

    His grandfather¡¯s letter came to mind. Whatever you do, never mention the hammer to anyone, not even those you think are with us. ¡°Nothing.¡± Corvan shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal.¡±

    ¡°Fine, keep it to yourself. It¡¯s better that way.¡±

    They cleaned quietly for a while. ¡°These are nice berries,¡± Corvan said. ¡°Where did you find them?¡±

    A sly smile stole over Kate¡¯s face. ¡°Fry¡¯s pond.¡±

    Corvan almost spilled his pail of berries. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to go on his property! Remember those two boys that tried fishing on that pond? He shot over their heads with his shotgun to scare them off.¡±

    Kate¡¯s smile vanished. ¡°The bushes aren¡¯t even on his land. His property stops at the edge of the pond.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but his shotgun doesn¡¯t stop at the edge of the pond. It¡¯s not very smart to go there.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, if someone showed like they promised, I wouldn¡¯t have to take such ¡®stupid¡¯ chances.¡±

    Flustered, Corvan looked out across the yard, and then he stood to shake the twigs from his lap. He hated it when Kate was annoyed with him.

    There was a sharp tug on the back of his jeans. When he turned around, he found Kate holding the hammer with a puzzled expression on her face.

    ¡°Give me that,¡± Corvan whispered. ¡°It might hurt you.¡± He held out his hand, but Kate pulled the hammer close to her chest and stared vacantly past him. Corvan knelt on the bottom step. ¡°That¡¯s what I found. It was buried near our fort. It belonged to my grandfather.¡±

    Kate blinked, and her eyes focused his face. She nodded slowly and looked down at the hammer. ¡°Your grandfather must have been a great man.¡±

    ¡°My dad said he was descended from a mighty warrior.¡±

    ¡°It feels like something a king would own.¡±

    She slowly released the hammer into his opened hand, and Corvan slipped it back into his pocket.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I walked to school without you.¡± Kate said, wiping a sleeve over her eyes. ¡°I get so mad when Billy Fry starts picking on you. I¡¯m not afraid of him, but my mom said if I were in one more fight, she¡¯d make us move away.¡± She blinked back tears. ¡°I don¡¯t want to move again, but I don¡¯t know how to help you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know either,¡± Corvan said, sitting back down. ¡°I hate being so short.¡±

    ¡°At least you¡¯re a boy¡ªyour dad won¡¯t mind if you got in a fight once in a while.¡±

    ¡°Maybe if your dad was around, he wouldn¡¯t mind you fighting either.¡±

    She turned away, and Corvan chided himself for bringing up her father¡¯s absence.

    ¡°What happened when you held the hammer?¡± Corvan asked.

    She looked across at him. ¡°It¡¯s a bit silly, but I felt better about myself ¡­ like it¡¯s okay that I get mad at the bullies. But it was scary too, like I was the one in charge of making things right, like a judge or a ¡­ a queen.¡±

    Corvan nodded. The way she put it made sense. He had felt something similar.

    Corvan¡¯s mother came out the screen door. She was holding a cloth-covered bowl in her hands. ¡°Here¡¯s the pastry, dear. You¡¯d better get it home and put it in the fridge right away.¡± She shot an accusatory glance at her son. ¡°Corvan will carry it for you.¡±

    As he stood to take the bowl, his mother shook her head in disappointment. ¡°Did you have to smear berries all over your pants? As soon as you get back, throw them into the washing machine. Let¡¯s hope they aren¡¯t permanently stained.¡±

    Kate kept busy pouring the cleaned berries back into her pails, all the while hiding an amused grin.

    Corvan turned away to the side of the house to hide his own smile.

    It felt great to be back with Kate and to share the secret of the hammer with her. Together they would figure out the mystery of the lizard and the Castle Rock.

 Hammer 8

    Kate and Corvan walked down the back lane to her house with the late afternoon sun creating a canopy of light overhead. Placing the pastry bowl down in the grass, Corvan held the gate open for Kate.

    A voice drawled from the deepening shadows.

    ¡°Looks like you got yourself some real good berries there.¡± Billy Fry emerged from behind a stout maple tree and sauntered over with a shotgun cradled haphazardly in the crook of his arm.

    ¡°The berries are for my mom to make her pies,¡± Kate said as she stepped away from Bill¡¯s advance.

    ¡°I seen your footprints in the mud out by our pond, so those are my berries. You can have Corvan pick you some more.¡± He laughed. ¡°Maybe he can get his three-foot high lizard to pick the ones he cain¡¯t reach.¡± He grabbed the handle of one of the pails. Berries sprayed into the dirt as Kate hung on.

    Corvan let go of the gate, and it swung shut on its spring, slapping the hammer stuck in his back pocket and knocking it halfway out. Corvan shoved it back in, and as his hand touched the smooth stone, the back lane seemed to grow brighter. He looked at Bill, and for the first time, he wasn¡¯t afraid of him.

    ¡°Leave her alone, Bill.¡±

    The large boy jerked back in surprise. He stared at Corvan for a second. Then the wicked smirk returned to his face. Pushing Kate aside, he moved to stand toe to toe with Corvan with his bulk blocking out the light. ¡°Did I say you could speak? Mind your own business. I don¡¯t need any advice from no half-breed.¡±

    Corvan tightened his grip on the hammer and looked into Bill¡¯s narrowed eyes. ¡°When you bully Kate, it is my business. I¡¯m telling you to leave her alone.¡±

    Billy blinked, then laughed. ¡°And if I don¡¯t, what are you going to do about it?¡± He jabbed a thick finger at Corvan¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Whatever it takes.¡±

    Billy snorted as confusion flickered across his broad face. ¡°Well, looky here; Stumpy¡¯s got hisself a girlfriend, got to show how brave he is. Well, short stuff, you can have her. She¡¯s white trash, just like her mother.¡±

    Kate whirled to face Bill. Her cheeks were bright red. The boy stepped back.

    ¡°Why do you have to be so mean?¡±

    Bill¡¯s eyes narrowed, and he gestured with the barrel of his gun. ¡°I¡¯m goin¡¯ to be taking them berries, Kate Poley, so I suggest you hand ¡®em over.¡±

    The sun glinted off the barrel of the gun. Fear gripped Corvan¡¯s chest, but he took a deep breath and stepped between Billy and Kate.

    ¡°Leave us alone, or you¡¯ll be in a lot of trouble for pointing a gun at people.¡±

    Billy turned to look at Corvan. ¡°Yeah? Who¡¯s gonna tell?¡±

    Corvan steadily returned his gaze but didn¡¯t answer.

    Billy hesitated and then turned back to Kate. ¡°Go ahead, keep the berries. Everyone knows your mom¡¯s a rotten cook. I¡¯d rather eat a cow pie than the soggy mess she cooks up.¡± He turned and hollered over his shoulder as he swaggered off down the lane, ¡°When you two get married, your kids will be so short, people will mistake them for gophers and shoot ¡®em.¡± He gave a loud guffaw and continued on his way.

    Corvan let out a sigh of relief. His shoulders relaxed, and he released his grip on the hammer. He turned to find Kate gazing at him with admiration. His face flushed as he picked up the pastry bowl from the grass.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that,¡± Kate said.

    She put the berry pails down on the other side of the picket fence and reached for the heavy stoneware bowl. For a moment, her hands wrapped around his, and the scent of lilacs filled the air as a breeze rippled between them and flicked a lock of hair across her eyes. She smiled at him. ¡°Thanks, Corvan. Thanks for standing up for me.¡±

    Stammering out a good-bye, Corvan stepped quickly through the gate and trotted up the alley. Over the years, he had endured a lot of teasing about Kate. If he had a dime for all the times he had heard that stupid rhyme about Corvan and Kate sitting in a tree and kissing, he would be rich.

    Kate, however, always stated emphatically that she would never have a boyfriend, that they weren¡¯t worth the trouble.

    He thought about it as he walked along, draping one hand loosely over the hammer sticking out of his back pocket. Truth was, he wouldn¡¯t mind kissing Kate. The problem was that she might punch his lights out if he tried.

    He smiled. Maybe someday he would give it a whirl anyway.

    Back at home, Corvan stopped at the outhouse and then washed up on the porch. The blue stains on his hands reminded him of his dirty pants, and he peeled them off and dropped them into the tub of the old washing machine. A pair of patched coveralls lay draped over the threadbare armchair. He pulled them on and stepped into the kitchen.

    His mother was carrying her sack of floor back into the pantry and turned to look at him. ¡°Those fit you pretty well considering they belonged to your grandfather.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Corvan ran his hands over the faded cotton. ¡°He was as short as me?¡±

    ¡°Shorter.¡± She laughed and pointed at his feet. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re expecting a flood.¡±

    He looked down to where the pant legs rode high over his ankles.

    A glass of water and a piece of bread waited at the table. Corvan sat and looked up at his mother. ¡°You¡¯ve never told me much about my grandfather and why he left.¡±

    She closed the panty door. ¡°We don¡¯t really know for sure. He left without saying a word to anyone.¡±

    ¡°So maybe he¡¯s still alive?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. There¡¯s nothing in this world that could have kept him away from you. You¡¯re what he lived for. I could never understand why he left the day before your birthday.¡± She shook her head gently. ¡°He was so looking forward to it.¡±

    As she turned to the stack of pots and pans by the sink, Corvan grabbed his slice of bread and slipped from the room.

    In seconds, he was sitting on his bed and unfolding the newspaper from around his grandfather¡¯s letter. His grandfather left the day before his second birthday. That would have been September 20, 1939, the next day after the newspaper clipping wrapped around the letter was printed.

    He scanned the front side of the paper. There was a long article about the beginning of the war in Europe. The other side was all advertisements except for one short article.

    New Evidence Comes to Light at IPC

    Representatives from the Industrial Power Company confirmed today that last Saturday¡¯s explosion, which resulted in the deaths of three miners, may have been intentional. The explosion took place during the boring of an experimental shaft.

    At first the mine operators claimed that the machinery overheated, igniting dust raised by the drilling. Investigators now report that footprints were discovered around the test bore. They claim someone was trying to tamper with the evidence, although it is unclear how anyone could have reached the site before the shaft was cleared.

    One member of the investigation team, who has asked not to be identified, says he saw a figure retreating down the borehole. This claim has been rejected by the mine officials as there are no levels below the test site.

    Corvan recalled his father talking about the disaster of ¡¯39. A few days after the shaft was cleared, another massive explosion had collapsed the main shaft and forced the closure of the mine. IPC went bankrupt. Only the smaller Red Creek Mine was still in operation.

    The thump of his mother¡¯s broomstick interrupted his thoughts. After stuffing the newspaper and letter under his pillow, he returned to the kitchen. His mind was whirling.

    ¡°I need you to run to the Barrons¡¯ and get some baking soda. Make sure you let Mrs. Barron know we¡¯ll pay our bill as soon as we can.¡±

    The Barrons owned the local corner gas station, and although it was long past closing time, they were always available to open the store and get something a neighbor needed. Corvan didn¡¯t mind going to the store. Mrs. Barron often gave him a chocolate bar or licorice cigar the mice had nibbled on. ¡°Can¡¯t go selling that to my customers,¡± she would say as she cut off the nibbled edge and handed him the treat.

    The sun had slipped over the horizon. The sky was painted in swaths of orange and pink above the low hills to the west. Corvan whistled as he walked down the center of the road and a few birds called in response.

    By the time Corvan returned home with the taste of a Cuban Lunch chocolate bar still lingering in his mouth, his father was sitting at the supper table. While they ate, mother tried chatting about her day, but father didn¡¯t respond. Normally on a Saturday night, they¡¯d sit at the table after supper and play games, but mother said since it was getting late, she¡¯d do the dishes and let Corvan get washed up for bed.

    Corvan went out to the washstand on the back porch. Looking in through the rusty screen door, he saw his father staring at his half-eaten supper.

    ¡°We¡¯ve managed through hard times before,¡± his mother said, ¡°and we can make it again. If he¡¯s old enough at fifteen for what your father was planning, he¡¯s old enough to understand that we¡¯ll have to celebrate his birthday another time.¡±

    His father¡¯s voice responded in tones too low to catch, and then he left the table and vanished into the bedroom. Corvan washed up and returned to the kitchen while wiping his hands on his shirt.

    His mother shook her spatula at him. ¡°How many times do I have to tell you to dry your hands on a towel? What good does it do to scrub your hands and then wipe them on a dirty shirt?¡±

    ¡°But this one¡¯s clean.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not clean now that you¡¯ve wiped your dirty hands on it, is it?¡± She raised her eyebrows as if to dare him to respond.

    Corvan could see this would be one of those circular arguments he could never win. ¡°I¡¯d better head to bed.¡± He leaned forward to kiss his mother¡¯s cheek, but she pulled him in close and gave him a tight hug.

    ¡°Mom, are we going to lose our home?¡± Corvan asked.

    His mother¡¯s shoulders sagged as she released him. ¡°We¡¯ll lose everything if your dad doesn¡¯t get the call to go back to the mine. This crop of wheat will only pay off what we owe the bank this year, never mind our debt from the past.¡±

    ¡°Is that because Old Man Fry has been talking to the bank?¡± He couldn¡¯t hide the bitterness in his voice.

    His mother shook her head. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t refer to Mr. Fry that way.¡±

    ¡°But why is he always trying to make trouble for our family?¡±

    She looked out the kitchen window at the castle rock. ¡°Your father says Mr. Fry holds a grudge against your grandfather.¡± She turned back to him. ¡°But I don¡¯t think he¡¯s behind the letters from the bank.¡± She waved him on. ¡°Don¡¯t stay up all night reading. If I see a light under your door after ten o¡¯clock, I¡¯m going to take your lightbulb away for a week.¡±

    Corvan grinned. She couldn¡¯t put a book down herself and would often reading until all hours of the night.

    Back in his room, Corvan undressed and settled into bed. He wanted to get the rope out of the chest, but he couldn¡¯t take the chance of being discovered. He would wait until he was sure his mother was in bed.

    The crickets outside were tuning up for their nighttime symphony. The screen door banged as his mother went out on the back porch to set their ancient wringer washer into action. Soon its rhythmic swish and bump drowned out the crickets. Corvan closed his eyes and let his breathing fall into sync with the familiar sound.

    The cave dream returned, but this time he was in pursuit through the damp tunnels. Just when he caught up and was reaching out to grab them, the person ran away and called out to him. ¡°Who? Who are you?¡±

    He woke to the repetitive hooting of an owl on the maple tree outside his window. ¡°Whoo-hoo,¡± he called back, and it swept out across the yard on its nightly hunt.

    A gentle breeze wafted the scent of rich earth and moist wheat into his room. The house was silent. This would be a good time to check out the mysterious rope inside his grandfather¡¯s secret compartment. Picking his grandfather¡¯s pants off the floor, he tiptoed to the chest and searched through the pockets.

    The hammer was gone.

 Hammer 9

    Corvan searched frantically through the dirty clothes he had kicked under his bed, but the hammer was not there. The last time he held it was when it was in his back pocket at Kate¡¯s house and then up the back alley. It must have been in his pants when he changed clothes on the back porch.

    His mother was doing the wash when he fell asleep. If she put his pants through the wringer, the hammer would make a real mess of things. Two years ago, he¡¯d left some marbles in his pockets that had jammed the rollers and ruined the gears. His only hope was that she had gone to bed without wringing out the wash. Checking out the window, he saw his pants swaying gently on the line. ¡°Oh great,¡± he muttered.

    Making his way quickly down the stairs, he forgot about the step just below the landing and put his foot in the middle. The stair let out its customary low groan. Holding his breath, he waited for his mother¡¯s snoring to resume. Then he crept out to the back porch.

    The wringer washer grinned at him from its corner. It always reminded him of a robot from a science-fiction story, with its wringer head hanging over its squat body and rollers like two rows of yellowed teeth in an oversized mouth. He inspected the rollers. Everything looked fine. Either his mother had found the hammer, or it was still down in the rinse water she always saved for her garden.

    After rolling up his sleeve, Corvan plunged his hand into the cool water and felt around the groove at the bottom of the round tub. All he found was the scorched half dollar from the chest, which he dropped into his pocket as he looked back through the screen door into the kitchen. If his mother had found the hammer, she might have put it in the secret hiding place where she kept the family cash.

    He remembered to pushing down firmly on the screen door handle to avoid any squeaks from the hinges. He went to the pantry and pressed on a knot in the wall, from which a small door popped open to reveal a shallow alcove. Grandfather had built the hiding spot for his mother, but Corvan had found it one day while searching for the chocolate chips. This time, it contained nothing: no chocolate, no cash, and no hammer. Corvan clicked the hidden door shut. Maybe it had slipped out of his pocket when he used the outhouse.

    The path was warm on his bare feet, and the moonlight illuminated his footprints from earlier that afternoon. The wooden latch on the outhouse had been left open, which meant he was the last one to use it. Corvan pulled the rough plank door wide on its leather hinges, and that familiar rank odor wafted out. He crouched to search around the wooden platform and behind the stack of old newspapers.

    The hammer wasn¡¯t there, but then where could it possibly be? He shut and latched the door.

    As he was retracing his steps, Corvan glanced up the path that led to the steep side of the rock. A set of marks were outlined by the moonlight. He bent low. These were animal tracks that had been partially wiped out, as if the animal had been dragging something along. Maybe a predator¡¯s successful kill? But there was no blood on the ground.

    The tracks led out to the edge of the rock, and Corvan heard pebbles rolling and clinking together overhead. Hugging the rock, he climbed on all fours until he reached the crown of rocks silhouetted against the night sky.

    Crawling quietly forward, Corvan peered around one of the boulders. A shadowy figure was crouched near the solitary rock in the center. Then dirt and pebbles sprayed out as the animal dug furiously at the base of the lone boulder. When the creature stopped digging, it stood up on its hind feet.

    The lizard!

    Corvan watched in fascination as the reptile picked up two strips of cloth from the ground and wrapped them carefully around its front claws. It held them up to inspected them, and in the soft light, it looked as if it were wearing mittens. Corvan stared, transfixed by the bizarre sight as it then stooped to drag something back to where it had been digging. The hole in the ground appeared to be too small for the large creature, but its body seemed to melt and flow down inside until only its cloth-wrapped claws remained in view holding up a black object.

    The hammer! The lizard had taken it from the outhouse.

    The cloth-wrapped claws abruptly disappeared into the hole. The hammer stood upright for a moment before it toppled to the ground.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Corvan rushed forward and was reaching for the hammer as an explosion of dirt shot out of the hole into his face. Blinded, he sat back to shake his head and clear the grit from his eyes.

    A guttural screech snapped his head up, and a dark blur hit him so squarely in the chest that he was knocked onto his back. The lizard jumped on him while raking its cloth-bound claws across his face as it screeched in frustration. Corvan yelled and knocked it off his chest.

    Rolling onto his knees, Corvan tensed for another attack, but now the lizard was unwinding the cloth from its claws. Its keen eyes burned with hatred. Corvan frantically felt around him for a weapon, but there were no rocks or sticks within reach.

    The lizard leapt toward him and landed with its front claws outstretched and its back legs straddling the hammer. It hissed, but it didn¡¯t try to pick up the hammer. It couldn¡¯t touch the hammer with its bare claws? If he could grab it, he could use the hammer to keep the creature at bay.

    It inched forward, staying between Corvan and the hammer, with its pointed front claws extended to drive him back. Its hind feet scraped on the muddy piece of tarp Corvan had ripped off the fort. If he yanked the tarp out from under its feet, he¡¯d have a chance to grab the hammer.

    The lizard pulled its thin lips back to expose pointed teeth. Its hate-filled eyes bore into his as it took another step toward him.

    Corvan inched his hand toward the loose end of the large canvas sheet. The lizard¡¯s eyes darted down, and Corvan yanked as hard as he could. The lizard¡¯s tumbled back past the hammer. Corvan jumped forward, threw the heavy canvas over the creature, and scooped up the hammer. He retreated to the ring of boulders as a flurry of claws tore the old tarp to shreds.

    The lizard emerged with eyes blazing. It took two quick steps toward him, but when it saw the hammer in his hand, it stopped.

    Glaring through narrow slits, it snarled in a low, hoarse voice. ¡°You will never be the Cor-Van. You could not survive the wrath of my master.¡±

    Corvan blinked. It could talk?

    ¡°You are only a child,¡± the lizard rasped. ¡°Return the hammer to me, and I will spare your life.¡±

    Fear constricted Corvan¡¯s throat. All he managed to croak out was, ¡°Go away.¡±

    The lizard fell back as if it had been kicked, and its eyes widened in fear. Corvan held the hammer higher and took a step forward.

    The creature retreated before him. Its eyes were flickering from one side to the other. With a hiss, it gave him one last angry glance, and then melted into the dark hole it had dug.

    Grabbing the biggest rock he could lift with one hand from the firepit, Corvan dropped it over the hole. He stuffed the hammer into his back pocket, and then he piled on more rocks until he couldn¡¯t lift any more. His sides heaved. He fell to his knees and retched. Shaking uncontrollably, he crawled to the western side and collapsed against one of the outer rocks. Never in his life had he been so afraid. People like Billy Fry were mean, but this thing was so ¡­ evil.

    Corvan shook his head. The lizard said it had a master. That must be why it wore a collar, but his couldn¡¯t be happening. Animals didn¡¯t talk. Was the hammer messing with his mind?

    When he pulled it out, an overwhelming awareness of great danger flowed through him, but something much more powerful was holding it at bay. He felt a unseen force that was flowing around and through him.

    A shadow flickered past his feet, and Corvan scrambled through the western gap and stood by the drainage channel. An owl hunting for prey on silent wings swept past him. He let out a long breath, but then recalled that gophers always had a second entrance to their holes. The lizard could be watching him even now. Or maybe it had left to bring back more of its kind.

    Cold sweat broke on his forehead as he scanned the circle of rocks. The shadows could easily conceal the vicious creature. He backed out of the rocks, bolted down the water channel, and headed for home. As he ran, he thought he heard an entire pack of lizards bearing down on him. With a final burst of speed, he reached the safety of the porch and turned to look back. The owl hooted again, but the backyard was still.

    The lizard had retrieved the hammer from the outhouse, so it obviously knew where he lived. If it came back with reinforcements, or even worse, its master, the only thing that could save his family would be the power of the hammer.

    Corvan stared out the porch door at the outline of the Castle Rock and held up the hammer. The lizard was afraid to touch it and had wrapped its claws. He put his other hand to his face. It felt sore, but at least there were no bloody scratches.

    Corvan moved deeper into the shadows of the porch and sank into the moth-eaten armchair. Tonight, he would keep guard over his home. With the hammer firmly in his right hand, he stretched his arm out on the armrest, like a king with his scepter on a royal throne. The hammer gave him a sense of authority, and he envisioned himself holding an entire legion of lizards at bay.

    A rooster crowed, and Corvan shook off the sleep that had been dodging him all night long. The gentle light of early dawn was in the east. His home was safe. Every muscle in his body ached as he pushed himself out of the armchair. Creeping back up to his room, he slipped the hammer under his pillow.

    As he undressed, the blackened half dollar fell out of his pocket and rolled under the bed. Too tired to chase it, Corvan crawled under the sheets and fell asleep.

 Hammer 10

    By the time Corvan woke up, the sun was directly over the house. His parents never let him sleep this late. Bees buzzed past his window, but the house below him was silent.

    ¡°Mom,¡± he called out, ¡°what¡¯s for lunch?¡± There was no answer. Had the lizard attacked while he slept? Leaping out of bed, he tugged on his pants, then moved cautiously down the stairs with the hammer held out before him.

    The bed in his parents¡¯ room was not made, and a few of the dresser drawers hung askew. Corvan ran to the front door. The truck was gone. Retreating to the kitchen, he searched for a note. Nothing.

    Kate called into the house from the back porch, and Corvan crossed his arms over his bony chest. He hated being seen without a shirt.

    She shook her head in disgust as she was entering the kitchen. ¡°Are you just getting up? Must be nice to sleep in half the day. My mom had me up at six to take the pies out to the station wagon.¡± She placed her hands on her hips. ¡°You should get a shirt on.¡± She nodded to the laundry basket by the back door.

    ¡°Have you seen my parents this morning?¡± Corvan asked, grabbing a T-shirt.

    ¡°I saw them drive past our place earlier. They were headed out of town.¡± She looked out the window as he pulled his shirt on. ¡°So, what are you doing today?¡±

    Corvan was relieved that his parents were okay. They must have needed something from the city, maybe a surprise for his birthday.

    ¡°I went out to the rock,¡± Kate said. ¡°What a mess! Our fort¡¯s ruined.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the storm flattened the fort.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s with the pile of rocks from the firepit? How did that happen?¡± Kate asked, looking intently at his face.

    ¡°That was me.¡± Corvan looked out the back door to escape her steady gaze. ¡°I was making a¡­ monument. Like a pyramid.¡±

    Kate scowled. ¡°When are you going to start telling people the truth instead of making up silly stories? If you don¡¯t want to say what you were doing just say, ¡®Kate, I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡¯¡±

    Corvan shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t want to tell you. It¡¯s just that I don¡¯t think anyone will believe me if I tell the truth. This one sounds crazier than any story I ever made up. I¡¯m not sure I even believe it yet.¡±

    ¡°Try me,¡± Kate replied as she sat on top of the kitchen table.

    His grandfather¡¯s note had said not to trust anyone, but this was Kate. Besides, she¡¯d already seen the hammer.

    Pulling the stone hammer from his back pocket, Corvan placed it on the table in front of her. ¡°It¡¯s all connected to this.¡±

    Kate stared at it as if she were seeing the hammer for the first time. She touched the handle with one finger and then pulled her hand back. ¡°You never did tell me where it came from.¡±

    ¡°I thought my grandfather made it for me, but now I¡¯m not sure. Last night, the hammer was stolen.¡±

    Kate hopped off the table. ¡°Billy Fry took it?¡±

    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t Bill. It was ¡­¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°Aw, forget it. I get enough mocking from the kids at school.¡± Snatching up the hammer, he swept around her, pushed out the screen door, and slouched on the porch steps.

    Kate followed and stood behind him. ¡°You¡¯re talking about that lizard again, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Corvan checked to see if she was teasing, but her face was serious.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I made fun of you about that story,¡± Kate said, sitting next to him. ¡°It sounded a bit far-fetched, and besides, no one but you has seen it.¡± She shrugged. ¡°But I guess not seeing something doesn¡¯t mean you should doubt someone who says he has.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Corvan stared at the rock. He had definitely seen it. His stomach churned at the memory.

    ¡°Why would a lizard need a hammer?¡± Kate asked.

    Corvan dropped his gaze to the ground.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Kate nudged his shoulder. ¡°I said I was sorry.¡±

    ¡°All right, I¡¯ll tell you what happened. But if you start to laugh, I¡¯m not telling you anymore.¡±

    ¡°If the story gets funny, it¡¯s not my fault if I laugh,¡± she teased.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that kind of story. Just do me a favor¡ªlet me get to the end before you ask questions.¡±

    Kate nodded, and Corvan told her about the lizard taking the hammer and the fight to get it back.

    Kate listened intently, but her frown deepened as the story progressed. When he got to the part where the lizard spoke, she interrupted him.

    ¡°Wait a minute. I could imagine a wild animal trying to bury your hammer, thinking it was a bone or something, but everyone knows animals don¡¯t talk. That¡¯s just crazy.¡±

    Corvan jumped to his feet. ¡°You¡¯re right. I am crazy. Crazy for thinking I could share this story with someone like you.¡± He stomped off.

    ¡°What do you mean, like me?¡± Kate hollered after him. ¡°You think you¡¯re better than me?¡±

    Corvan rounded the corner of the house and broke into a run. He should have known she wouldn¡¯t believe him either. Bounding up the front stairs, he shut the door behind him and peeked out the living-room window. Kate hadn¡¯t followed. Hopefully she¡¯d go home, and he¡¯d have a chance to look through his grandfather¡¯s chest in peace.

    He waited a bit longer then went up in his room and unlocked the secret panel. Draping the soft cloth over the footboard of his bed, he checked out the various items, but his attention kept returning to the green rope. Plucking it from its shallow depression, he examined it carefully. One end was squashed flat and wrapped securely around the coils. Small flaps were keeping the rope fastened in tight loops. Corvan tugged at the flaps, but they wouldn¡¯t budge. He pulled as hard as he could on the free end, but the rope only stretched slightly.

    A low whistle escaped his lips. How could something this light be so strong? It wasn¡¯t even woven like a braided rope; it was all one thin strand except that the free end was a thicker, like a short handle. On the end of the handle was a round button¡ªlike an eyeball with a black knobby pupil staring out from the center. Corvan pressed on the dark bump: the flat flaps holding the coils opened, and the loops fell to the ground.

    Letting the soft rope play through his hands, he picked up the flat end that had been wrapped around the coils. It was a wider disk shaped like the head of a cobra. He held it flat in the palm of his left hand and then pressed his thumb against the dark eye on the end of the handle with his other hand.

    An intense prickling sensation snapped his left hand tightly closed around the flat disk. In a panic, Corvan tried to open his fist, but it was as if the green disk was suddenly coated in thick glue. He tried harder, and the prickling increased. His fingers were shifting about of their own accord. Dropping the eyeball handle to pry his hand free, it bounced off the open chest and his left hand sprang open. The flat disk spilled to the floor.

    Red dots of blood blossomed across the surface of his palm where tiny needles had punctured his skin. Wiping his hand on his pants, Corvan picked up the disk by its tail, like a dead mouse, and set it on his bed. Retrieving the handle end, he ran a thumb over the black knob. The flat disk came alive and began twitching and burrowing into his blanket. He leaned closer and watched a thousand miniscule fingers thrusting out from the disk, grasping, and bunching up the cloth. With trembling hands, he flicked the black button again, and they vanished. The disk lay still once more.

    Corvan turned the disk over and pressed the button. The tiny tentacles leapt out, waving and seeking something to grasp. The rope itself grew thicker and recoiled on itself like an angry snake, slithering toward his forearm. Letting out a yelp, Corvan dropped it to the floor, where it spread out wide on the wooden planks.

    He pulled, but the flat disk wouldn¡¯t budge. He tried harder, and the floorboards flexed and creaked. Working the small button, Corvan released the disk from the floor and picked it up. Activating the fingers, he instead tossed the flat disk at the wall. It stuck fast, and tiny flecks of paint fell as the tentacles found the tiniest cracks.

    Corvan examined the black knob and then tried pushing it to one side. In front of him, the disk crawled in the same direction like a round centipede across the wall. He released the sideways pressure, and it froze in its place. While sitting on his bed, Corvan discovered he could control not only the direction but also the speed of the disk end of the rope. The farther over he bent the knob, the faster it moved.

    A grin spread across his face as he directed the flat disk to where the wall met the slope of ceiling. It made the transition smoothly and slipped upwards towards his grandfather¡¯s light fixture. Dislodged plaster rained onto the bed around him. He laughed as he sent it to the very peak, running over the four angles surrounding his light bulb. Letting his thumb off the controls, it fell onto his legs and sent him scrambling back with a startled yell.

    Leaning back against his headboard he laughed again as the memory of the rope and his grandfather came clear. He had been allowed to play with this rope when he was very young, and he remembered laughing as his grandfather ran it around him on the bed.

    He picked up the disk. How would it work on something smooth? He went to the window, held it up to the glass, and activated the button. The disk spread out even flatter and was like a small lily pad floating on the water. He worked the controls, and it moved slowly across the smooth surface.

    A desperate scream from outside tore his gaze past the windowpane.

    Out on the rock, someone was madly swinging a long stick. The person shouted, the stick rose high, and then they vanished behind the central boulder.

    Kate was being attacked by the lizard!

 Hammer 11

    Corvan scrambled into the castle to find Kate sitting in the dirt. The thick body of a large garter snake was stretched out toward her. A long stick from the ruined fort lay next to its crushed head. Relief flowed over Corvan as he knelt beside her.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°You know I hate snakes,¡± Kate said, shaking her head.

    Corvan grabbed the dead snake by the tail and carried it over to the edge of the castle rocks. It was a real beauty, one of the largest he¡¯d ever seen. He tossed its long body into the field down below. A coyote or owl would soon make a meal of it.

    Turning back, he found Kate already on her feet and brushing the dust off her jeans.

    ¡°I thought the lizard was attacking you,¡± Corvan said, instantly wishing he hadn¡¯t mentioned it again.

    Kate nodded. ¡°I came here to prove that the lizard was just in your imagination, but ¡­¡± She pointed to where his pile of rocks had been. Kate had moved them to one side, and the dark hole through which the lizard had disappeared gaped at him.

    Corvan tugged the hammer from his back pocket and held it out. ¡°Did you see it?¡± he asked without taking his eyes off the spot.

    ¡°No. You said the lizard only comes out at night.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure.¡± Corvan muttered as he was edging closer. ¡°Did the snake come out of the hole?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Kate replied, pointing at the rock. ¡°The snake was on the other side. I was following the lines, so I could see the rest.¡±

    ¡°The rest of what?¡±

    ¡°The door. See how flat the stone is in front? That lone hole is just a gap between the rocks that are holding two slabs apart. It¡¯s like the two sides of an elevator door, except its flat on the ground.¡±

    Corvan crouched by the large rock with the hammer in hand. Where Kate had scraped away the dirt, he could make out two parallel lines about 6 inches apart. Between them were the bumpy outlines of rocks under the mud. The two lines vanished under the large rock.

    ¡°It¡¯s likely just a big crack the rain has washed stuff into,¡± Corvan said while glancing up at Kate.

    Kate pointed with a grubby hand. ¡°You need to look on the other side.¡±

    Corvan crawled around the large rock and found the lines continued a short distance before each bent out at precisely ninety degrees.

    Corvan traced the lines with a finger. ¡°This must be something the first people carved,¡± he said. ¡°Like the rock paintings in the caves by the river. My father says this hill was a sacred place to them.¡±

    Kate knelt beside him. ¡°You could be right. I had just found some strange carved symbols when that snake slithered out.¡± She brushed a pile of dirt away from the base of the boulder. ¡°I think we need to move this big rock to see the rest. I hope there¡¯s no more snakes under it.¡±

    Kate moved back as Corvan inspected the cleared area. The marks cut deeply into the stone weren¡¯t strange at all, they were like the glowing marks on the hammer and carved into his chest. If Kate was right and this was a door, the hammer might open up a cave under Castle Rock. He stood up to push with all his might against the boulder. Kate joined him, and it rocked slightly.

    ¡°We need a pry bar,¡± Corvan said. ¡°My father has some long pipes in the cellar.¡±

    Retreating down the rock, Kate spoke over her shoulder. ¡°I saw some tracks when I was moving the dirt.¡±

    Corvan caught up to her. ¡°Three toes with claws?¡±

    Kate nodded. ¡°Are they from your lizard?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Those are the tracks I saw this summer.¡±

    ¡°And it¡¯s three feet tall?¡± Kate asked.

    ¡°Maybe not quite that high, but it¡¯s almost up to your waist when it¡¯s next to you.¡±

    Kate stopped in the field at the bottom of the water channel and looked up at the rock. ¡°I don¡¯t want to see it that close.¡± She looked closely at his face. ¡°What happened after ¡­ after it talked to you?¡±

    ¡°I told it to go away and held the hammer up in front of me. It¡¯s really scared of the hammer. It won¡¯t even touch it without cloth wrapped around its paws, so I think we¡¯re safe if we have the hammer with us.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    As they were approaching the house, Corvan heard gravel crunching in the driveway out front and the slam of the truck door. ¡°Sounds like my parents are home. Do you think we should show my father the cracks and carving in the rock?¡±

    ¡°It might be best. He knows a lot about the history of this place,¡± Kate said.

    Corvan stopped and touched Kate¡¯s shoulder. ¡°For now, maybe we should keep the hammer a secret. Just between us.¡±

    Kate nodded silently.

    They met Corvan¡¯s mother at the corner of the house. She was walking slowly with her head down. Once she saw them, she wiped tears from her eyes.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, mom? Where¡¯s dad?¡± Corvan asked.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go inside the house,¡± she replied. ¡°I need to sit a minute.¡±

    They followed her in, and mother sat at the kitchen table. ¡°Kate, can you get me a cup of cold water.¡±

    Kate filled a glass and joined them at the table.

    Corvan¡¯s mother lifted the cup but didn¡¯t take a drink.

    ¡°We got a call from Fred Simpson this morning. He arranged for your dad to start a job up north at the Langdon mine, but he had to go right away, so I took him into the Fenwood bus station.¡± She stared into her cup for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s a long way from here. We won¡¯t see him for a least a month, but we need the money if we¡¯re going to make it through the winter.¡±

    Corvan frowned. ¡°Why can¡¯t he keep working here at the Red Creek mine?¡±

    ¡°At the meeting, the owners told the miners they are shutting that mine down for a while. They breached an underground river, and the lower shafts are filling up with water. The owners are telling the men the ground is too unstable around here and they have lost too much money. They might close the Red Creek mine for good.¡±

    Kate slid her chair away from the table and quietly made her way toward the door.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to leave, dear,¡± Corvan¡¯s mother said. ¡°Fred gave us a fresh chicken for supper. You¡¯re welcome to join us.¡±

    ¡°That would be great,¡± Kate said with a nod. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s mother stood. ¡°I¡¯ll get it ready. You two go ahead and enjoy the outdoors while we still have nice weather.¡±

    Kate left quickly. Corvan rose slowly to his feet, and his mother gave him a hug.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, my only one,¡± she said, pulling away and putting a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Things will work out. We¡¯ll miss your father, but we¡¯re fortunate that he found work so quickly.¡± With a gentle push, she directed him toward the back door. ¡°Supper will be done in about an hour. I¡¯ll ring the bell when it¡¯s ready.¡±

    Kate sat on the porch steps looking up at the Castle Rock. Corvan jumped past her. ¡°Wait here a minute. I¡¯ll grab a pipe.¡± He headed around the house to the steep ramp that ran down to their cellar. It would take a pretty strong pipe to move the heavy rock, but there was bound to be something on the rack in his dad¡¯s shop. At times, his dad would back his truck down the ramp and unload heavier pieces of metal.

    Descending the stone ramp, he pushed one of the cellar doors open. A shaft of light pierced the dusty air and fell on the pipe racks against the far wall. He took a step inside, then remembered his dad saying he was not to go into the workshop until after his birthday. But if he went straight ahead to the far wall and grabbed a pipe without looking around, surely his dad wouldn¡¯t mind. He wouldn¡¯t even turn on the light. Besides, they wouldn¡¯t be celebrating his birthday for a long time with his dad gone.

    Walking between the slender columns and arches that supported the cellar ceiling, he was reminded again of a small cathedral he had seen in a travel magazine. When his grandfather had built their home, he had cut the stone blocks for the walls of the house from below it. He even cut the workbench from the bedrock, complete with storage spaces and tool racks. Corvan went straight ahead and lifted a long, heavy pipe from the rack. Gripping it with both hands, he intentionally turned away from the workbench to avoid seeing his father¡¯s work.

    Instead, he saw a door.

    Ever since he could remember, the north wall of the cellar had been completely covered with a set of high wooden shelves. Now, the center section had been pulled aside to reveal a metal door. It was at least four feet wide and reached almost to the ceiling. Was this something new or had it always been behind the shelves? Three sturdy metal bolts locked it from this side. What could his father be locking in ¡­ or out?

    As he stepped forward to check it out, the end of his pipe banged on the door. He jumped back. From the sound of it, the door hid a large room. He could hear it echo a long way inside.

    ¡°Did you find one?¡± Kate¡¯s voice floated down from above.

    Corvan gave the door one last glance and climbed up the ramp. Dropping the pipe into the grass, he ran back and eased the cellar door closed. ¡°Don¡¯t let my mother know I was in there.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°My dad said I was supposed to stay out of there until after my birthday.¡±

    She frowned. ¡°Then you shouldn¡¯t have gone in.¡±

    ¡°I forgot.¡±

    Kate shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re very good at making up excuses.¡±

    Corvan grunted and picked up the pipe. She was right, but why did the truth hit so hard the last few days?

    By the time they reached the top of the hill, the evening shadows from the rocks were halfway across. The last wedge of sunlight was highlighting the dark hole next to the central boulder. It would probably be a good idea to block it up, but he was anxious to see what was under the boulder. Slipping the pipe under it, he used a small rock to create a fulcrum and then leaned on the end of pipe.

    The rock began to tip back. Kate stepped in beside him to add her weight. The rock slowly lifted, then suddenly rolled back and dumped them onto the ground. Kate scrambled to where the rock had been sitting and swept away the dirt.

    ¡°If this is a door, then this must be the keyhole.¡±

    Corvan crawled up beside her and stared in amazement. The shallow hole had two circles around it just like the keyhole in his grandfather¡¯s oak chest.

    Kate picked up a rock and tapped on the symbols. A dull knock sounded from inside. ¡°It¡¯s hollow down there.¡±

    Kate knocked again, and Corvan clearly heard the rustling of scales on rock in the silence that followed.

    A shadow flitted across the hole below them.

 Hammer 12

    Corvan¡¯s blood ran cold. Without a second thought, he yanked Kate to her feet and away from the hole. Eyes wide, she dropped her rock and stumbled along to crouch with him by the ring of outer boulders.

    ¡°Was that the lizard?¡± Kate asked.

    ¡°Yes, I need to block up that hole.¡± Pulling the hammer from his pocket, he crept forward.

    ¡°Be careful,¡± Kate whispered.

    He chose a good-sized rock from the pile and pulled it to his chest with one hand. It slipped free, and he jumped back to save his toes from being crushed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help.¡± Kate bent to pick up the rock, but Corvan stopped her.

    ¡°Here,¡± he said, holding the hammer out to her. ¡°If the lizard comes out, point this toward it and tell it to go away.¡±

    Kate hesitated before reluctantly taking the hammer from his hand. Her face was tight with fear.

    Corvan heaved the rock to his chest, stepped cautiously forward, and held the rock out as far as he could directly over the hole.

    A claw appeared. Kate screamed. Corvan lost his grip, and the rock dropped. A screech of pain erupted at his feet as the rock bounced and rolled away. From below the hole, there was a scrabbling of claws and then silence.

    He had to find something else to push over the entrance to the lizard¡¯s den and fast.

    Corvan looked to the ruined fort. If he could cover the hole with a large board, he could stand on it while Kate found rocks to pile on top. Keeping his eyes on the hole, he picked up a wide plank, but it was too heavy and dipped down toward the hole. Corvan fell to his knees to stop its descent, but it kept falling and rapped sharply on the door.

    The lizard shot out of the hole and sank one of its long claws deep into the wood. It glared at him. Its mouth, flecked with foam, muttered something. Corvan couldn¡¯t understand what it said, but a gasp from Kate told him that she heard it clearly.

    The angry creature yanked its claw from the wood, took a step forward, and locked its fiery eyes on Corvan. One foreleg and claw were extended toward him, the other hung at its side. Blood was dripping from the end of a crushed paw.

    It stopped and stared at him through narrow slits before the dinner bell on the back porch shattered the silence.

    The lizard turned toward the house, and its eyes fell on Kate. It moved toward her. With a shaking hand, Kate lifted the hammer toward it. ¡°Stop!¡± she commanded.

    The creature collapsed to the ground as if she¡¯d shot it. Covering its head with its good claw, it whined and writhed before her. Its wounded claw was dragging about in the dust. Hammer held out before her, Kate moved in closer.

    ¡°Stay away, Kate. It¡¯s a trap!¡± Corvan shouted.

    Ignoring his warning, Kate kept her eyes focused on the lizard as she continued her advance on the injured creature. Corvan had seen animals feign death and then attack. Kate needed to back away.

    The lizard stretched out prone. Kate stood directly over it and was raising the hammer high above her head. The creature lay perfectly still, as if waiting for the fatal blow. Corvan watched in horrified silence as Kate brought the hammer swiftly down and then gently touched the lizard on the back of its neck. With a low metallic groan, the black collar around its neck quivered and fell into the dirt.

    The lizard rose slowly, bowed its head to Kate, and backed away. Kate bent to examine the black band, and the lizard shook its head while rattling off a string of clicks and hisses. Kate sank to her knees, and, as she picked the band up, the lizard, hissing and gesturing toward Kate with its healthy claw, ran toward Corvan. What was it saying?

    Kate glared at the lizard and thumped the hammer on the ground. The rock shivered beneath them. ¡°Be quiet and go away.¡±

    The lizard glanced at Corvan with a helpless expression on its narrow face.

    ¡°Now!¡± Kate commanded.

    The lizard scuttled away and retreated down the hole.

    Kate picked up the lizard¡¯s black band and stood with it draped limply over her palm like a glistening black leech. She looked between it and the hammer as if weighing both objects in her hands.

    The dinner bell rang again, louder and longer. ¡°We¡¯ve got to go,¡± Corvan croaked. ¡°I¡¯ll put a rock over the hole.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to,¡± Kate said. ¡°It won¡¯t come back now that I¡¯m holding the hammer.¡±

    Corvan stepped toward her. ¡°How did you know what to do to get its collar off?¡± He held out his hand. ¡°Let me see it.¡±

    Kate shook her head and stuffed the black band into the front pocket of her jeans. ¡°We don¡¯t have time. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Hammer in hand, she strode down the western trail.

    Corvan sprinted to catch up to her. ¡°Kate, the hammer.¡±

    Kate shoved the hammer into her back pocket and sped up. Now she was slipping and skidding down the incline.

    ¡°I need that back.¡± Corvan shouted as he raced after her and grabbed at the back of her shirt, but she was too fast. The fabric slipped from his fingers.

    As soon as Kate reached level ground, she broke into a run toward the house hollering, ¡°Race ya!¡± over her shoulder.

    Corvan didn¡¯t even try. Kate always beat him in a foot race. Why was she acting so strange? He watched her disappear into the back porch.

    She was already washed up and inside the house when he arrived. His mother came out to pour the potato water into the washing machine and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. ¡°What was all the hollering up there?¡±

    His face and neck were hot and prickling, so Corvan concentrated on his soapy hands. ¡°We were cleaning up the mess from when the old fort blew down. Didn¡¯t want that old tarp blowing out into the field.¡± It was another lie, but his mother would never believe the truth. Right now, he wasn¡¯t so sure he even knew what it was.

    Kate met them at the door. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize it was so late. My mom will be home in half an hour, and I haven¡¯t finished the dishes. She¡¯ll be furious.¡± She went to move past them, but Corvan¡¯s mother put a hand on the door frame.

    ¡°You can take along some of the chicken dinner for your supper. That will make her happy.¡± She hurried into the kitchen and dished hot food into a tin pie plate.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Corvan tried to catch Kate¡¯s eye, but she just stared at the floor. There was no way he would let her leave without getting his hammer back and getting a look at the black band.

    Mother wrapped the plate in a tea towel and held it out.

    ¡°I¡¯ll carry it for her.¡± Corvan took the dish from his mother¡¯s hands.

    ¡°Then come right back,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll wait to eat with you.¡±

    Kate slipped out the door and Corvan followed.

    As soon as they were out of earshot, he caught up to her. ¡°What happened with the lizard?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It was frightened,¡± Kate said. Her face was tight¡ªalmost angry. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you see that?¡±

    ¡°But what did it say?¡±

    Kate walked faster and did not answer.

    ¡°You did hear it talk, didn¡¯t you?¡± Corvan said, his irritation rising.

    Kate stopped but did not turn to face him. Instead, she looked straight ahead. Her voice was low and mysterious, ¡°It said it could not stand against me. That I had the power to destroy everything. Then it begged me to let it live. It said I was the only one who could set it free from the band. All I needed to do was touch it with ¡­¡±

    ¡°I want to see the black band,¡± Corvan insisted.

    ¡°Not now. I¡¯m too tired,¡± Kate snapped back.

    ¡°It¡¯ll just take a second.¡± He stepped around her and blocked her way into the back alley behind her house.

    Kate snatched the plate from his hands. ¡°I said I¡¯m tired,¡± she huffed. ¡°And I¡¯m not a child who needs to be walked home in the dark. I can take care of myself.¡± She pushed past and left Corvan alone in the alley.

    He watched her go through her gate before he turned for home. Not only did he not get to see the black band, but also Kate still had his hammer. Why was she acting so strange? One minute she was his best friend, and the next she was chewing his head off.

    The screen door banged shut behind him, and he slumped down at the table. Mother¡¯s eyebrows arched as she retrieved their supper from the oven. Corvan began to eat as she filled him in on the details of his father¡¯s new job. He was one of the fortunate. There were ten or more families affected by the mine closure, and few of the men would be able to find a job. ¡°It¡¯s going to be a difficult winter,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ll need to help as many people as we can.¡±

    Corvan barely caught what she was saying. His mind was still trying to sort out what had happened with Kate and the lizard.

    After supper, they washed the dishes together. His mother suggested they play Scrabble. He agreed, but he found it hard to concentrate. Finally, his mother said they should get to bed, although she seemed pleased that for once she was winning the game. Corvan returned the game to the pantry.

    As he turned for the stairs, his mother looked up. ¡°Did you see the letter your father left?¡±

    Corvan looked blankly at her.

    ¡°He left it on your washstand when he went up to say good-bye. He didn¡¯t want to wake you.¡±

    Corvan tore up the stairs and burst into his room. Sure enough, a folded piece of paper with his name printed across the front was propped against the water pitcher. He nearly ripped it in his haste to get it opened.

    There was only a short note.

    Corvan,

    I¡¯m sorry I must leave without saying good-bye. I will come home just as soon as I can.

    The next four words were crossed out. Contact me if anything. Below the scribbled-out words, he had written,

    You will turn 15 and be a man by the time I get back. If anything out of the ordinary happens, use your judgment, and do what you know is right.

    Take care of your mom while I am gone.

    Love, Dad.

    Corvan sat on the edge of his bed. He wasn¡¯t ready to be a man, and his mom was a whole lot stronger than he was. Still, it felt good that his dad trusted him to look after things.

    There was a knock at the front door and then an agitated woman¡¯s voice. It must be one of the wives of the men at the mine.

    As the voices moved into the living room, his mother called from the bottom of the stairs. ¡°Corvan, can you please come down here for a moment?¡±

    Corvan went slowly down the stairs wondering what could possibly be going on. As he entered the living room, Corvan stopped and stared. Kate¡¯s mother was on the couch, and her cheeks were streaked with tears and mascara. He had never seen her look so sloppy. She took great pride in her looks and that she once had a small part in a movie.

    Corvan¡¯s mother entered from the kitchen with her teapot and two cups on a wooden tray. She nodded at the armchair, and he sat on the edge while his mother poured.

    ¡°Mrs. Poley believes you might know where Kate has gone.¡± She fired a warning glance at him from beneath her eyebrows. ¡°When you were walking her home, did she say anything to you about going somewhere?¡±

    Corvan¡¯s heart sank. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Did she say anything about me?¡± Mrs. Poley asked.

    Corvan¡¯s jaw tightened. Every time he met Kate¡¯s mom, the conversation was about her. ¡°She only said she was worried that you¡¯d be mad about the dishes not being done.¡±

    Mrs. Poley shook her head. ¡°I was only a little annoyed with her.¡± She turned to Corvan¡¯s mother. ¡°I get so tired from working those long shifts, you know, and it¡¯s not easy to raise a child on your own.¡± She paused and dabbed at her eyes. ¡°She told me she had been busy too and had made me a chicken dinner. But as soon as I saw the plate, I knew she was lying because the towel matched the one on the bowl of pastry you sent over.¡±

    She blinked her long lashes, but no more tears fell despite her efforts. ¡°Kate¡¯s never lied to me before, but before I could say anything, she ran to her room and slammed the door. I left her alone while I watched my TV.¡± She paused, probably expecting them to be impressed that she owned the only TV set in town¡ªit had been an extravagant present from the movie director. ¡°When I checked on her, she was gone. Just took the blanket from her bed and left out the window. She didn¡¯t even take her shoes from the front door, so now she¡¯s running around out there in her bare feet!¡±

    Corvan¡¯s mother patted her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sure Kate will come back soon. She just needs time to cool off.¡±

    ¡°She had better do it quickly.¡± Mrs. Poley pouted. ¡°I¡¯m tired of phone calls about her fighting and her bad attitude. I¡¯ve always been there for her, but now she keeps saying she is old enough to take care of herself.¡± She stood up and looked out the living room window. ¡°Dave wants me to move to Las Vegas with him. If Kate is so sure she can make it on her own, I have half a mind to just leave her here and go.¡±

    Corvan found himself wondering if there even was half a mind under the dyed blond hair. She could be quite mean to Kate, and Kate had run away twice in the past and spent the night in the fort.

    Kate¡¯s mom turned around. ¡°She even took my outhouse flashlight from beside the back door,¡± she complained. ¡°She knows I hate going out there in the dark.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s mom gestured for him to leave, and he headed for the stairway. He wouldn¡¯t go to sleep though. As soon as Mrs. Poley was gone, he was going to slip out and see if Kate was at the Castle Rock.

    Mrs. Poley called after him. ¡°Corvan, do you know who gave Kate that lovely black bracelet?¡±

    He froze. His blood ran cold.

    ¡°She was wearing a shiny bracelet, but she wouldn¡¯t let me look at it. You didn¡¯t give it to her, did you?¡± She studied his face intently as if she would be able to read his mind.

    Corvan shook his head.

    ¡°She said that even though I didn¡¯t want her, there was someone who did, and I thought ¡­¡± She cocked her head to one side. ¡°Did she say anything about hearing from her father?¡±

    Corvan stared blankly at Mrs. Poley and shook his head again. His mind was racing. Why would Kate put that black band on after the lizard wanted so badly to be set free from it?

    Mrs. Poley crossed the room and went down on one knee, so her eyes were level with his. ¡°Corvan, I know I haven¡¯t been keen on you and Kate playing together. It¡¯s just that I know all too well what can come of a boy and a girl spending too much time together.¡±

    Corvan felt his face flush. Mrs. Poley took his hands in hers. ¡°If she goes to find her father, her feelings will be hurt much worse than if you break her heart. Please don¡¯t let her go to him.¡± The way she said the words and tossed her hair made it sound like Mrs. Poley was acting in another movie.

    His mother ushered the woman back to the couch and then turned to Corvan. ¡°Run along to bed, son. We¡¯ll sort this out in the morning.¡±

    Corvan looked at Mrs. Poley¡¯s tear-stained face. Despite the way she treated Kate, he felt sorry for her. ¡°I¡¯ll find Kate and bring her home,¡± he blurted out. ¡°I promise.¡±

    Mrs. Poley smiled at him, and Corvan left the living room to slowly climb the stairs. That bracelet must be doing something strange to Kate. He should never have let her hold the hammer in the first place.

    After lacing up his tennis shoes, he sat and waited by his window. As soon as his mother was in bed, he would find Kate and roll the boulder back over the door. He would wait for his father to return and help him figure out what to do next.

    A beam of light from the rock played past his bedroom window, and Corvan pressed his face against the screen. The shadows shifted as a flashlight flickered around inside the Castle Rock, shot straight into the air, then went out.

    A chill raced up his spine.

    The hammer was the key to the door in the rocks, and Kate had gone to open it.

 Hammer 13

    Corvan pushed up the window screen and slipped over his windowsill onto the porch roof. Tiptoeing to one side, he grabbed the overhanging branch of the maple tree and was on the ground in seconds. Crouching low, he cut wide around the back porch and through the trees. The light in the porch went out and plunged the backyard into darkness. Glancing back through the kitchen window, he saw his mother turn toward her room.

    Running full tilt past the outhouse path, he leapt onto the rock and stumbled as the stone beneath his feet shuddered and knocked him to his knees. Before he could get to his feet, an abrupt scream pierced the night air.

    Corvan scrambled to the top and was bolting into the circle just as the two stone slabs crashed together. Splinters of shattered rock exploded into the air and rained around him as he fell to his knees and pounded on the stone. ¡°Kate. It¡¯s me, Corvan. Open the door!¡± He shouted at the ground.

    He hammered on the stone slab with a loose stone, but the only answer was faint echoes from below. He reached for a larger rock and bashed on the door until it fell from his scraped and bleeding hands.

    Sitting back, he noticed a piece of cloth caught in the top corner where the slabs met. Corvan tugged, and it came loose, neatly snipped off. It was the edge of Kate¡¯s flannel blanket.

    Kate was gone. And without the hammer to open the doors, there was no way he could get her back. He sank to his knees. Tears of frustration shrouded the cloth in his hand.

    The clouds shifted. Moonlight poured into the circle of rocks to reveal footprints in the long piles of dirt pushed up by the opening doors. Some were from Kate¡¯s borrowed runners; the rest were made by the lizard. Corvan traced the progression of the tracks. The lizard must have been hiding behind the large rock because he could see deeper prints where it had jumped out when the door opened. After that, the prints left in a hasty retreat toward the north side of the hill. That must mean the lizard was still out there, and it might know a different way to get inside. Slowly making his way to the bottom, Corvan searched the soil around the base of the rock until he located tracks heading toward the loose pile of dead tree limbs and firewood behind the outhouse.

    A bank of clouds enveloped the moon, and the tracks vanished in the dark. Corvan looked up. There were only a few small breaks in the sky overhead. It was going to be a long, black night.

    A singular patch of moonlight slipped toward the woodpile and moved over the jumbled logs. He caught his breath as the silhouette of the lizard appeared briefly at the very top of the pile.

    Easing himself lower among the stalks of wheat, Corvan crouched onto the soft, warm soil. He needed a weapon to defend himself. The lizard was too quick and vicious.

    He crawled through the wheat until he reached the outhouse path. As soon as he was hidden from the log pile, Corvan scurried up the path to the house. Creeping up and into his room, he left the light off and retrieved his slingshot and pouch of marbles from inside the chest. The Wham-O slingshot had been a tenth birthday present from his dad, and it was a beauty with a solid ash handle. As its name implied it made a great sound when it hit its mark. Corvan could hit the knot on the outhouse door from his bedroom window, but his mother was not as impressed when it turned out she was inside.

    From his bedroom, Corvan studied the deep shadows of the back yard. If he stayed downwind and came in from the front side of the outhouse, he should be able to catch the lizard unaware. If he pulled back on the slingshot only halfway, the marble should stun the creature long enough for him to capture it.

    Using his maple tree escape route again, Corvan dropped to the ground and searched around the base of the tree for a forked stick. He needed one like those he used for catching snakes, but there was nothing large enough. He was making his way toward the cellar to find something there when he saw his mother¡¯s garden scarecrow standing like a mute watchman with a broken pitchfork in its hand. That would work perfectly as it only had the two outer tines remaining.

    After picking his way through the rows of plants, he pulled the pitchfork from the scarecrow¡¯s hand. He jumped back nervously when its head flopped sideways. He was turning away when he noticed bare footprints in the soft soil hilled up around his mother¡¯s potato plants. Kate had just been here, and she had taken the worn out sneakers that had been placed at the bottom of the scarecrow¡¯s empty pant legs.

    Leaving the footless scarecrow watching with its cockeyed stare, he crept across the yard and crouched down behind the outhouse. Overhead and to the west was a large open patch in the clouds; the moonlight would arrive any minute.

    Moving deeper into the shelter of the trees, he tucked in close to the darkness around their weathered trunks. The plowed soil muffled his approach to his vantage point. Leaning into one of the outer spruce trees, Corvan pulled three marbles from the pouch. Two went into his mouth and one into the slingshot.

    The moonlight swept towards him, lighting the prairie in a silver arc. Corvan focused on the woodpile and waited. As the light passed over the ragged pile, there was a flicker of movement before a familiar shape leaned out.

    Corvan quickly pulled the leather pouch back to his elbow, felt the tension build in the rubber bands, then let the marble fly. It struck the lizard high on the side of its head, and the creature slumped forward. Its body was now draped over a log.

    Busted pitchfork in hand, Corvan scrambled over the loose wood toward the reptile. It rolled over, and its eyes sprung wide with fear as the points of the pitchfork dropped past its face. Adrenaline surged through Corvan, and he pushed the two tines firmly around the lizard¡¯s neck to pin it against the tree bark.

    It gurgled and coughed as its eyes were begging for mercy, and he eased up on the handle to let it breathe. ¡°Where¡¯s Kate!?¡± Corvan demanded while choking on the marbles still in his mouth.

    The lizard blinked and hissed out what seemed to be words.

    Spitting the marbles away, Corvan leaned in closer to the reptile¡¯s lean face. ¡°Where¡¯s my hammer? Does Kate have it?¡±

    The lizard shook its head as much as the pitchfork tines would allow.

    ¡°Do you know where the hammer is?¡± Corvan asked, this time speaking slower, so it could understand him.

    The lizard tried to talk and its healthy claw was pushing on the shaft of the pitchfork.

    Corvan returned the creature¡¯s gaze. Its dark eyes had lost the venomous anger of their previous encounter. It appeared more frightened than vicious.

    Corvan eased up on the pressure. ¡°Can you open the door, so I can find her?¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    The lizard slowly nodded. Corvan tugged the points free of the wood and held the pitchfork ready at his side. What choice did he have but to trust it?

    The lizard sat forward, rubbed its neck as it looked around the jumble of logs, and then slipped down to disappear into a gap between the chunks of wood.

    Corvan groaned, dropped the pitchfork, and plopped down on the end of a thick log that jutted out from the pile. The lizard had tricked him, and now he might never find a way past the doors. He buried his face in his hands. His stomach churned at each thought of Kate trapped inside the rock.

    At the sound of movement on the pile of logs behind him, Corvan turned to find the lizard struggling to pull something over a log. The creature gave a yank with its good claw, and a pink pencil case bumped down over the logs and fell into a pile of dead leaves at Corvan¡¯s feet. The lizard followed it down and crouched. Its sides were heaving from exertion.

    Picking up the soft case, Corvan realized he had seen this pencil case on Kate¡¯s desk last year, but only for a day. She had told him her father had sent it to her in the mail. At lunch, two boys grabbed it and tossed it back and forth over her head until she had given one a bloody nose. She had never brought it back to school.

    At his feet, the lizard¡¯s head was bobbing as it gestured with its good claw towards the case. Corvan tugged the zipper open and stared inside. Nestled inside the pink vinyl was the missing hammer. When he touched it, the insignia glowed brightly and turned the entire case a pastel purple. As he lifted it out, the handle grew warm, and a sense of calm flowed through him.

    ¡°She was going to take the hammer to the master of the black band,¡± the lizard stated. ¡°That would not have been good.¡±

    Corvan stared at the creature.

    ¡°When you possess the hammer,¡± the lizard said, ¡°you are able to understand my speaking. That is why I could warn your counterpart about the black band. But she did not listen to me and has willingly accepted the rule of the master.¡±

    ¡°Her name is Kate. What master are you talking about? Did she see someone down below?¡±

    ¡°Not yet, but she will in time. It is the command of the band that compels her to seek him,¡± the lizard said.

    ¡°The band?¡±

    ¡°The black collar that was around my neck. I begged her not to touch it, but she wanted it for herself. I saw that she was wearing it when she went through the doors. She is now under its command. That is why she put the hammer in the pink case. When I had the band on, I could not touch the hammer.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t she take the band off?

    The lizard solemnly shook its head. ¡°She has accepted the band of her own free will. Now it will call her to him, to serve him.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s mind whirled. ¡°Can I use the hammer to set her free?¡± He gripped the handle tightly.

    The lizard thought for a moment. ¡°Only if she desires to be set free, and only if we find her before she gets back to him. Once he sees her, he will not allow her to go free lest she destroy all his plans.¡±

    The lizard¡¯s words were confusing and frightening. ¡°Then I¡¯ve got to go after her.¡± Corvan jumped to his feet and scrambled down off the pile onto the soft dirt. As he ran toward the rock, the lizard caught up to him on its swift hind legs and ran alongside like a well-trained dog.

    ¡°She will be inside the labyrinth by now, and you will not be able to follow without a guide.¡±

    Corvan slackened his pace, then stopped at the base of the rock. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    The lizard stopped too. ¡°Below the door is an intricate maze. Only those who are called from within can find their way through. The band on the girl will guide her, but you will most certainly be lost.¡±

    ¡°Will you show me the way?¡± Corvan asked.

    The lizard firmly shook its head. ¡°I no longer have the band, so I cannot make my way through the labyrinth. We would be lost together and trapped inside until we perished.¡±

    Corvan held out the hammer. ¡°What about this? Can it guide me through?¡±

    The lizard stepped back. ¡°Perhaps ¡­ if you have been trained in its use? Have you studied the writings?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about writings,¡± Corvan said, ¡°unless you mean my grandfather¡¯s book. It¡¯s metal, and the hammer unlocks it.¡±

    The dark eyes of the lizard widened as it drew in a hissing breath. ¡°Have you discovered what it says?¡±

    The urgency in the lizard¡¯s voice caught Corvan off guard. Maybe all this was just a trick to get the book. His grandfather had said not to trust the dark eyes. Was he referring to this lizard?

    ¡°Put your hand on the hammer,¡± Corvan said. His gaze fixed intently on the lizard.

    ¡°My hand?¡± the lizard asked.

    ¡°I mean your paw. Place it on the hammer.¡±

    The lizards stepped away. ¡°Oh no, I cannot touch it. I tried once when I wanted to take it to him, but it hurt me badly. I had to wrap cloth around my paws.¡±

    ¡°But that was before Kate released you from the black band,¡± Corvan said.

    The lizard nodded as its good paw caressed the welts around its neck.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think the hammer will hurt you now unless you are not telling the truth. It seems to know when you¡¯re lying.¡± Corvan extended the hammer.

    The creature shrank back. ¡°I fear it will hurt me again.¡±

    ¡°I need to know if I can trust you. You need to decide if you¡¯re willing to trust me.¡±

    The lizard closed its eyes and edged its paw toward the head of the hammer. There was a moment of silence as it made contact, then a long sigh. ¡°It is not angry with me now.¡±

    ¡°Try the other paw, the injured one,¡± Corvan suggested with sudden inspiration.

    The lizard attempted to lift its bloody paw and let out a low, painful hiss. Crouching lower, Corvan touched the hammer to the damaged paw. A look of astonishment crossed the lizard¡¯s face.

    ¡°Does it feel better?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes. Look, I can lift it now, and the pain is almost gone. Oh, thank you, sir, thank you.¡±

    Watching the creature bobbing and bowing before him reminded Corvan of the old man who used to be the caretaker at the mine. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me; it was the hammer. If you lie, it hurts you, but when you tell the truth, it heals you. I don¡¯t know how it knows, but it does.¡± He pointed the handle at the lizard. ¡°So be sure you always tell me the truth.¡±

    The lizard nodded vigorously. ¡°I will, sir. But we must hurry if we hope to get through the door before daylight.¡±

    Corvan looked to the eastern sky. ¡°Is there anything else I should bring? Will I need a flashlight?¡±

    The lizard squinted at him. ¡°I do not know the word flashlight.¡±

    ¡°You touch a switch and light comes out.¡±

    The lizard¡¯s face wrinkled in thought.

    ¡°Kate had one at the rock.¡±

    The lizard nodded eagerly. ¡°Oh, yes, the short fire stick. No need. I have much larger ones in the entry.¡±

    Corvan wanted more information, but time was passing quickly. ¡°Is there anything else I should get?¡±

    ¡°Whatever you think you will need for a long journey,¡± it replied with a shrug.

    ¡°A long journey?¡± Corvan¡¯s heart dropped. ¡°How long will it take?¡±

    ¡°Many of your days, sir.¡±

    ¡°Days? How far down does your cave go?¡±

    ¡°It will take days just to get through the labyrinth, after which there is another long descent before we will arrive in the Cor.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s mind reeled. How could he go into this maze of tunnels unprepared? He needed more time, but there was no time. He would have to just step through the doors and see what happened, despite how crazy it seemed. But then, who am I to say what¡¯s crazy when I¡¯m having a conversation with a lizard?

    ¡°Looking on the bright side,¡± he said with a wry smile, ¡°it will mean missing a few days of school.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, sir. I¡¯m afraid you do not understand. The cycles of your moon affect the passages.¡± It scanned the predawn skies. ¡°Once we have passed through the labyrinth, the opportunity to return to this sphere will not come again for at least one of your months.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t be gone for a month,¡± Corvan exclaimed. ¡°My dad is away, and my mother needs me here to help her.¡±

    The lizard looked up at Castle Rock. ¡°The first passage into the labyrinth will be sealed at sunrise. If you do not wish to go, that is your choice. We can wait.¡±

    The inside of Corvan¡¯s mouth felt like sandpaper. ¡°But what will happen to Kate?¡±

    ¡°Once she meets the master, she will never return.¡±

 Hammer 14

    The matter-of-fact tone of the lizard¡¯s voice shocked Corvan. There was no way he would leave Kate under the control of the black band and lost in the caves underneath the Castle Rock.

    ¡°We must help her, no matter what it takes.¡± Now his own voice gave him pause; it sounded more like his father was speaking.

    ¡°If we do not try,¡± the lizard stated, ¡°all will be lost. If you stay here to protect your world, you may lose it anyway.¡±

    ¡°Why? What¡¯s going to happen to my world?¡±

    The lizard studiously scratched at the dirt with one of his claws. ¡°It will depend on our success in rescuing the Kate. It is best now to focus on that task.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll need to bring food, but I could never carry enough for a month.¡±

    ¡°There will be food once we reach the boundaries of the Cor, but there is none in the labyrinth. I think you will only need enough for six of your days.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the Cor?¡± Corvan asked.

    ¡°That is where the Kate is going, but we must get inside the doors quickly to follow her. Will it take much time to pack your food?¡±

    ¡°Not long. Wait for me up on the rock.¡±

    The creature glanced to the east. ¡°You must hurry. I cannot be outside once the sun is in the sky, and we waste time talking.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    Corvan sprinted toward the house. Should he wake his mother to let her know what had happened? His pace slackened. She would never believe a story about a talking lizard. It would be best to leave a note telling her he¡¯d gone to find Kate. That would cause her the least amount of worry when he didn¡¯t return right away.

    Once he reached the familiar outline of his home, he paused with one foot on the porch steps and looked back at the rock. He was not ready to leave his home, but Kate was in great danger. He had to save her.

    The interior of the house was deathly silent; even his mother¡¯s snore was missing. He stood still, waiting until he heard faint measured breaths from her room. She never slept well when his father was away. He would need to be especially quiet.

    Retrieving the hunting packsack from the front entry, he shut himself inside the pantry, lit a candle, and dropped the pack of matches into the front pocket of his jeans. He filled one of the side pockets of the pack with jerky, and he stuffed tinned food, bread, and candles into the main section of the pack. Moving a box of Corn Flakes, he discovered a reused plastic bread bag that was half-full of oatmeal raisin cookies. It fit neatly into one of the side pockets. An unexpected bonus was finding a package of chocolate chips inside an empty tin of baking soda. His mother knew better than to leave those out in the open.

    Sneaking up to his room, Corvan set the pack on the bed, opened the chest, and pulled the gray cloth off onto his lap. There was a longer empty cavity at the very back of the tray he had not noticed before. It was about the length of the wooden case his father had shown him on the rock. If that item was now inside the box, it was likely stashed under his parents¡¯ bed. He couldn¡¯t go looking and risk waking his mother. Hopefully it was not important.

    Corvan considered the metal book, but since he couldn¡¯t read it and the lizard was a bit too interested in it, he decided to leave it in the chest for safekeeping. He released the rope and tossed it into the packsack. In the next indentation, the slipper-like shoes were held in place with two stretchy cords. He pulled them out to find they were more like thick socks. Since his own socks were rather thin, he tossed them into the pack. Having warm feet was important, and it was likely cold under the rock.

    The gray cloth cover was warming his legs, and he rolled it up and added it to the pack. Closing the chest, he added three T-shirts into the pack and then jammed his slingshot on top. He tied the pack cover in place, and when he hoisted it onto his shoulders, he let out a groan. How would he ever manage to carry this much weight around in the caves? But how could he know what the journey would require? He would need the lizard¡¯s help to lighten the load as soon as possible.

    As he straightened up, the frame of the pack pushed hard against the hammer in his back pocket. He needed a better way to carry it, and he had the perfect solution.

    He set the pack on the bed and bent down to pull out his army ammo box. His mother insisted he keep anything that might cause a fire in the stout metal box. He dug past an unopened packet of Black Cat firecrackers, three stubby bottle rockets on short bamboo sticks, a roman candle, and a metal waterproof tube of matches before he found it: his Hubley Trooper cap pistol with the Texas star on its holster. He had quit wearing it years ago, after the other kids started calling him Tex and Billy mocked him by saying he should be carrying a bow and arrow instead.

    Putting the cap gun back in the box, he threaded the empty holster onto his belt. The hammer slid inside, handle down, as if it were made to order. Corvan snapped the top flap over the head of the hammer, stepped in front of the mirror, and in one fluid motion released the hammer and pointed it at his reflection. He had practiced that maneuver a thousand times with the pistol and was pleased it worked just as well with the hammer.

    He was going to put the explosives back in the ammo box, but you never knew when you might need a bright flash or a loud noise. He wrapped the gray cloth securely around the fireworks to make sure nothing went off accidentally.

    Tying the pack shut, he hoisted it onto his shoulder and glanced around his room. A strong sense that he might never return to his home struck him as he flipped the light switch and closed the door.

    This time, he remembered to avoid the noisy stair, but with the added weight of the pack, his evasive tactics still resulted in a muted squeak. His mother mumbled in her sleep, and the bed springs groaned as she rolled over. Seizing the moment, Corvan tiptoed down and scooted through the kitchen.

    After easing the back door open, he let it close softly behind him. As he turned, a voice spoke from the armchair.

    ¡°I watched you sit here through the night with the hammer in your hand, but I do not see the advantage of placing one¡¯s body in this.¡± The lizard pushed itself out of the chair. ¡°It seems designed merely to keep one awake. It hurts the tail.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Corvan frowned. ¡°I told you to wait for me on the rock.¡±

    ¡°I was worried you might be late. I was considering coming inside to find you,¡± the lizard said.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t. The sight of you would have been too much for my mother to handle.¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡± The lizard had a gravely wounded expression.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing personal. She just doesn¡¯t like snakes.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m not a¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know, but she¡¯s not fond of lizards either.¡± He pointed out at the rock. ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡±

    ¡°Gladly, sir,¡± the lizard said in a huff. ¡°It is well past the time to leave.¡±

    ¡°Just a minute.¡± Corvan crept back inside the kitchen and found a pencil and paper by the telephone. He jotted a short note telling his mother he was going to look for Kate and not to worry. At the bottom, he wrote his name, Cor-Van, with a tiny hyphen. That way his father might understand where he¡¯d really gone.

    Once he set the note on the shelf under the phone, he had to blink back the tears and force down the emotions that threatened to engulf him. He squeezed out the back door and descended the porch stairs with the lizard following close behind.

    ¡°I believe your belongings will be too large to fit through the labyrinth. Some of the openings are quite small.¡±

    Corvan kept walking. ¡°I grabbed everything I thought I might need. It will get lighter as we travel and eat the food.¡±

    ¡°Is it heavy for you?¡± the lizard asked.

    Corvan straightened his back. ¡°I¡¯ve carried more than this before,¡± he replied, but he couldn¡¯t think of when that might have been.

    The dark bulge of the rock loomed ahead. Corvan attempted to leap onto its steep edge but misjudged the added weight of the pack and crashed back to the ground. The lizard¡¯s head appeared above him with an ¡°I told you so¡± look on its narrow face.

    Corvan rolled over onto his knees. ¡°I guess it might be a bit too heavy,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Maybe once we¡¯re inside, we can go through it and decide what to leave behind.¡±

    The lizard didn¡¯t answer, but Corvan thought it rolled its eyes before darting up the rock and into the circle. Heaving himself to his feet, he clambered up after it and reached the top, where the lizard was waiting for him at the door.

    ¡°Light is coming, sir. We must get inside.¡±

    ¡°We have a few minutes.¡± Corvan put his pack down by the stone door. The circle of rocks around him appeared as mute sentinels against the thin gray light of the approaching dawn. A brighter light came on in the kitchen below him, and through the window, he saw his mother go to the sink. He lifted his hand to wave goodbye. She couldn¡¯t see him, but it made him feel a bit better. She turned away, and the kitchen light went out.

    He turned back to the lizard and found a questioning look on its face.

    ¡°Why do you raise your hand and shake it back and forth?¡± the lizard asked. ¡°I have seen others do this. What is the meaning?¡±

    ¡°We are saying good-bye.¡± The lizard looked at him, expecting more. ¡°When we are leaving someone, and we don¡¯t know how long it will be before we see them again, we wave.¡± He swallowed hard. ¡°It means that we love them and hope we¡¯ll see them again soon.¡±

    The lizard nodded. ¡°We do not wave.¡± It shook its head sadly. ¡°Love is not permitted when you serve the master.¡± The lizard studied him for a moment before he jumped over to the pack. ¡°We must go now. Once the light comes up, the first door into the labyrinth cannot be opened until the next phase of the moon.¡± It wrapped its claws around the strap of the packsack and tried to move it closer to the door, but the heavy pack refused to budge.

    Corvan stooped and slung it onto his back. It seemed significantly heavier this time.

    ¡°Sir,¡± a voice spoke at his back.

    Corvan turned around, but the lizard was gone.

    ¡°I¡¯m here, sir.¡± The voice came again and something poked Corvan¡¯s side. Twisting sharply, he found the lizard hanging above his waist.

    ¡°My claw appears to be caught in your belongings, sir,¡± the creature stated flatly.

    Corvan chuckled as he set the pack down and unhooked the lizard.

    Free from the pack, the lizard frowned at him. ¡°I do not understand that noise you just made. I heard it before when you and the Kate were together.¡±

    ¡°I was laughing,¡± Corvan said. ¡°You looked funny hanging there.¡±

    The lizard shook its head and looked over its shoulder at the growing light. ¡°Is the hammer ready?¡±

    Corvan slipped it from the holster. ¡°It should work when I put the handle in that keyhole between the rings.¡± He pointed the handle forward.

    ¡°Stop!¡± The lizard darted in front of him to bar his way to the door. ¡°The power of the hammer flows through your body. The door will open even if your feet touch the stone. That is what happened when the Kate stepped on the doors¡ªthey opened, and she fell, throwing her arms up, like this.¡± The lizard mimicked the motion. ¡°The small case with the hammer inside flew from her hand, bounced off the big rock to the doors, and they closed very fast. I grabbed the case and carried it away as you approached.¡±

    No wonder Kate¡¯s scream had been cut short. ¡°How long does it stay open once you touch it?¡±

    The lizard briefly pondered the question. ¡°I think until you touch it again. It shut when the hammer dropped on it from this side. The Kate was fortunate to not get hit. It closes swiftly.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s test it and see.¡±

    Corvan set his pack down before he tentatively touched the stone. A low rumble echoed below him, but nothing moved. ¡°Well, that didn¡¯t work.¡± As he leaned forward to test it again, the door sprang apart. The lizard pulled him back from the open hole.

    ¡°That¡¯s incredible. Does it work the same to close it?¡±

    Corvan leaned forward and touched one finger to the exposed edge of the door. All was silent.

    The lizard was hissing and clicking. Corvan looked at him. He was pointing at the ground where the hammer lay dangerously close to the edge of the door in the dirt. Corvan¡¯s face flushed, and, as he picked it up, his free hand brushed the frame. The doors slammed back together with the ferocity of a massive stone mousetrap. He looked up into the wide eyes of the lizard. ¡°How can I possibly get inside without being crushed?¡± Corvan stammered.

    ¡°If you open the door and then drop the hammer inside, you will be able to climb in safely. I will go first, and you can follow. I suggest you toss your belongings in after me to avoid them getting caught on the door.¡± The lizard gave the eastern sky another quick glance.

    Pulling the pack in close beside him, Corvan exhaled slowly. He then placed his hand on the stone.

    The doors rumbled open, and the lizard leapt into the blackness.

    Corvan called, ¡°Heads up,¡± and threw the pack. It hit the ground below with a thud. Edging forward, Corvan held the hammer out over the hole. ¡°I¡¯m going to drop the hammer in now.¡± No response. ¡°Here comes the hammer.¡± Silence.

    Was this a trick to get the hammer inside with him still locked outside? Maybe if he held the hammer and jumped in without touching the sides, he could shut it from below. He brought his feet together with his toes just inches from the doorway, and it reminded him of the time he jumped off the high diving board at summer camp. That time he¡¯d ended up in the infirmary.

    Ignoring the warning thoughts, Corvan jumped forward and landed amid a pile of jumbled rocks. He stumbled, and his fingers touched the inside of the door frame. The massive slabs came back together with a resounding thunder that grazed the back of his head.

    Falling to the ground in the choking dust, his head came to rest against the coarse canvas of his packsack. It was so dark that he couldn¡¯t even see his empty hands in front of his face. Empty! Once again, he had dropped the hammer. He felt around on the floor with panic rising in his throat. What if the lizard was waiting in the darkness? Were its razor-sharp claws ready to tear out his eyes?

    ¡°Are you down there ¡­ lizard?¡± Again, there was no reply.

    He crawled, fumbling around the ground until his groping hand encountered a round handle, but it was just a short, thick stick. He needed light. He pulled the box of matches from his pocket and struck one. It sputtered to life.

    He tilted it down and waited for it to catch.

    As he held it aloft, he came face-to-face with the empty eye sockets of a human skull.

 Hammer 15

    The match sputtered and singed Corvan¡¯s fingers as it died out.

    In the darkness, the rhythmic click of claws on rock approached. A spark of light expanded to a dome of brilliant white flame. As Corvan¡¯s eyes adjusted to the harsh light, he saw it came from the end of a longer stick that the lizard carried. The creature cocked his head to one side and pointed a claw past Corvan.

    Corvan turned back to find the hammer lying amid the ribs of a human skeleton. The skull was looking directly at it in what seemed like wide-eyed disbelief. His first thought was that he was seeing the remains of his long-lost grandfather. Is this where his grandfather had died? Had the door closed on the hammer and trapped him under the rock?

    Corvan gingerly plucked the hammer from amid the bones and rotting garments. He had never been this close to death, and it unnerved him. A piece of mildewed cloth fell from the ribs to reveal the letters IPC embroidered in red thread. IPC was the bankrupt mine with deep bore problems in his grandfather¡¯s newspaper clipping. His grandfather had never worked at that mine, only for the Red Creek Mine. Who was this person? And how had they come to be trapped here? Was there a connection between the caves the lizard was talking about and the now abandoned IPC mine further down the river valley?

    A shiver ran up his spine. It must have been terrible to die so close to being free.

    ¡°How long has he been here?¡± Corvan asked in a shaky voice.

    The lizard tilted its head to study the skeleton as if seeing it for the first time. ¡°From since I have been guarding the door.¡±

    Corvan slipped the hammer back into the holster and fastened the snap. ¡°How long have you been guarding the door?¡±

    ¡°Before you were born. I have lost count. It has been a long assignment, and a tedious one.¡±

    Corvan looked back at the skeleton. It sounded like this person had died long before his grandfather had gone missing, but how would an IPC miner ever get all the way over to the Castle Rock?

    ¡°What was your assignment?¡± Corvan asked.

    ¡°I am a Watcher.¡±

    ¡°What are you watching for?¡±

    The lizard¡¯s eyes darted about. ¡°For those who might try to enter our world ¡­ or leave it. I am to report anything I see back to him.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s him?¡± Corvan asked.

    ¡°No more asking,¡± the lizard snapped, but then immediately it bowed to the ground. ¡°I am sorry, sir, but my service is a painful memory.¡± He paused. ¡°I would prefer not to speak of it anymore. Please, come now, we must prepare to make our way through the labyrinth.¡± The lizard turned away and moved off down the low passage.

    Corvan followed, crawling over the rough floor and dragging the packsack. ¡°Are all the caves this small?¡±

    ¡°Most are larger, but sometimes the passages between them are smaller.¡±

    The ground slanted steeply down, and Corvan took to sliding after the lizard. If his sense of direction was correct, they were descending below the western slope of the Castle Rock. Soon the tunnel became less steep, turned back on itself, then opened up such that Corvan could stand upright. They had to be directly under the Castle Rock. With this much solid granite down below the field, it was no wonder their soil was so poor and rocky.

    The light from the lizard¡¯s stick bobbed away In front of him. Loose stones rolled under Corvan¡¯s feet, and he stumbled, cracking his shoulder against the craggy wall. ¡°Hey, slow down, I can¡¯t see where I¡¯m going.¡±

    The light stopped and came back. ¡°Sorry, sir. After all the times running through here in the dark, I forget there are obstacles in the way. Please, take my fire stick. I do not need it, but be careful not to touch the light. It will burn through anything, even the rocks.¡± He thrust the stick at Corvan and moved on. Corvan held the strange torch out in front of him hoping it would not drip and set his shoes on fire.

    The tunnel descended rapidly for a few hundred yards and then branched in two directions. A clear trail cut to the left, but a single set of shoe prints went right. He peered down the right-hand tunnel.

    ¡°It is no use to look for the Kate now,¡± the lizard said from behind him. ¡°The first shifting of the labyrinth openings has already occurred, and she is in the next room. We have some time before we can follow her. Come with me, and I will show you a place where you can rest.¡±

    Corvan turned to follow the lizard down a short corridor and into a small room.

    ¡°You can cover the fire stick, sir.¡± The lizard gestured to the torch. ¡°There is enough light here when your eyes adjust. Just put the cover back on top.¡±

    Corvan examined the stick he held. A small black cap hung from a silver thong just below the glowing end. He held his hand over the fire. It was not as hot as he expected.

    ¡°Do not touch it, sir. If it gets on your skin, it will burn right through to the other side.¡±

    Corvan recalled dripped burning plastic on his arm when melting one of his green army men. It had burned deep into his flesh before it cooled and solidified. This sounded infinitely more painful. He carefully slipped the black cap over the flame, and it went out.

    As his eyes adjusted, he found the cave was bathed in a blue glow from overhead.

    ¡°Not enough light for you, sir? Just a moment.¡± The lizard ran onto a low shelf and pushed a claw toward the light, which in turn became stronger and more pinkish in hue as it spread across the room. ¡°I heard that the lumiens would not grow so far from their source, but I kept tending them and they survived.¡±

    Corvan looked at the ceiling where long, silky threads hung in clusters around knobby globes that were the source of the mysterious light. Near his head was the largest, about the size of a small pumpkin. He gently brushed the soft tentacles that hung around it, and the bulb dimmed to a deep blue that fanned out like ripples in a pool to the other smaller bulbs scattered about the room. Corvan detected an electric smell, as if lightning had struck close by.

    The lizard grinned. ¡°Touch it again.¡±

    Corvan reached up, and waves of light spread from bulb to bulb becoming brighter until they were all the color and intensity of the brightest full moon.

    ¡°Be careful, sir. Mine are not as strong as those in the Cor.¡± The lizard raised a claw, and the globes dimmed back to a soft blue. ¡°They can expend themselves and never recover. We are not permitted to let that happen.¡± He pointed above Corvan¡¯s head. ¡°That is my best one. Not as splendid as those in the Cor, but a beautiful specimen nonetheless.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Corvan inspected the large bulb and discovered that it was lower than the rest because it hung from metal holder that arched out from the cavern wall. The fixture ended in a metal ring, just like the one in his room but instead of an electrical cord, a gnarled stem was wrapped along the metal until it spread its roots out onto the rock.

    ¡°Are they plants?¡± Corvan asked.

    ¡°Yes, like your vegetables, but much better tasting. Here, try one of these.¡± The lizard plucked a small globe the size of a plum from a patch that hung down the wall. ¡°Quick, eat the flesh while it is still blue; that is the nicest flavor, I think.¡±

    Corvan nibbled on the strange fruit. It tasted sweet¡ªlike a peach but tangier. The texture was smooth, and warmth flowed down his throat and into his stomach. He popped the rest into his mouth.

    ¡°Careful, sir.¡± The lizard approached him. ¡°Do not bite the seed. It is never permitted for us to consume the life of a lumien.¡±

    Corvan worked his tongue around the hard pit of the fruit. There was a tiny buzz of electric current as his tongue touched the pointy end of the seed, like touching his tongue against the terminals of a nine-volt battery. The tingle in his tongue spread through his head. It was much more pleasant than the shock from the battery.

    He spit the seed into his hand. It was teardrop shaped and had veins that pulsed as if a tiny heart were beating inside.

    ¡°Touch the pointed end to the ceiling, sir.¡±

    Corvan reached up and felt a small tug as the seed reattached itself to the rock. A translucent skin formed that obscured the patchwork of veins.

    ¡°You must plant it any time you eat the fruit. It is forbidden to eat the center of the lumiens. The penalty is death, for they are our source of light and life.¡±

    ¡°Do they only have one seed?¡±

    The lizard tilted its head. ¡°I have been told that there is a special mother plant that produces clusters of seeds, but I have never seen it. It belongs to the priests, but I think it must not produce many of the seeds because the Cor is darker each time I return.¡±

    A pale blue skin now covered the seed. It twitched and stretched as the fruit expanded.

    ¡°They grow quickly at first, but they won¡¯t glow until they are larger. If you pick them when they are brighter, they become too spicy for my taste. Would you like to try a brighter one?¡± He raised a claw toward the globes.

    ¡°I feel full. Maybe later.¡± The pleasant feeling from the seed had passed  and left behind a heightened awareness of his body, as if the electricity was trapped inside him. Corvan looked around the chamber until his gaze settled on an intricate sculpture created from bits of metal that hung on one wall. Looking closer, he could see pieces he recognized: a circular saw blade, lids from tin cans, a tie rod from a truck, and a rusty hand-cranked eggbeater. ¡°Did you make that?¡±

    A proud smile spread across the lizard¡¯s face. ¡°The hole into your world permitted me freedom that a Watcher normally does not receive. I did not have to go back to the Cor for supplies and was able to learn much about you and your world. This is something I made to help me pass the time. I use small fire sticks I grow to melt the pieces together. Do you like it?¡±

    Corvan nodded. He didn¡¯t know much about art, but it certainly looked as good as anything he had seen on his field trip to the art gallery in the city.

    Below the sculpture, a row of tall quartz crystals sprouted from the floor. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen rock crystals that big.¡±

    The lizard nodded. ¡°I have practiced a little over the years. It is one of the things that kept me from losing myself. Would you like to hear them?¡±

    ¡°Sure?¡± Corvan said, although he was uncertain how you would listen to rocks.

    The lizard stepped into the center of the tall crystals. After a moment of intense concentration, the creature caressed the angular shapes with the tips of his claws. A faint sound, like tiny glass wind chimes, filled the room. The sound felt like a liquid flowing around his head and into his ears. Corvan closed his eyes as the tempo of the music increased. He imagined a group of small creatures moving in a circle, bobbing rhythmically up and down. Abruptly the music stopped.

    The lizard looked up with glistening eyes. ¡°I have not played that one since before I accepted the black band.¡± He scurried up to Corvan. ¡°That was a song about my kind in the days before we became Watchers. Did you like it?¡±

    ¡°It was very nice.¡± Corvan¡¯s ears still rang with the tune, and his head felt fuzzy. ¡°I think I¡¯d better sit down,¡± he mumbled, dropping the pack from his shoulder and sitting beside it.

    ¡°Yes, you should rest. We have a short time until the first portal door opens into the labyrinth, and I need to pack. I am not sure what to take. I have more collected than I could ever carry.¡± He moved to the cave wall and pulled back a coarse curtain to reveal a small room carved into the rock. Hanging on the back wall were row upon row of skinned and dried gopher carcasses. No wonder their field was the only one in the area not full of gopher holes.

    Small sheaves of wheat were piled high in a roughly hewn stone bin. Shelves cut into the rock above it held a variety of glass jars full of dried fruits, nuts, and strange things that Corvan didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°So, that¡¯s where my mother¡¯s canning jars went. She always blamed me for taking them outside and losing them.¡±

    ¡°You did bring them outside, sir. So, in a way, she was correct,¡± the lizard replied.

    ¡°Why do you keep calling me ¡®sir¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Out of respect. Now that I am free, I am pleased to become your servant.¡±

    ¡°How can you be free and also be a servant?¡± Corvan asked.

    The lizard stopped picking items from his shelves and turned to Corvan. ¡°That is the best freedom of all. To know I can serve by my own choice and not from fear of pain. I was born to serve, but I only truly enjoy it when I freely choose my own master.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you freely choose to accept the black band?¡±

    The lizard¡¯s face wrinkled, and he caressed his neck. ¡°Yes. I made the choice of my own will, but once the bond was on me, I was not free to leave. My choice placed me under his control. But that is not how Tsarek was created to serve.¡±

    ¡°Is that your name, Tsah-reck?¡±

    ¡°It is the name I was given at emergence, but I have not used it for many years. He forbade us personal recognition. We were referred to only by the location of the portal we guarded.¡±

    ¡°What does your name mean?¡±

    Tsarek looked down at the ground. ¡°It means pretty face .. on account of these blue markings.¡± He pointed to the side of his face.

    The three lines of deep blue scales that swept off Tsarek¡¯s face and onto his neck seemed more visible than before, as if the lizard were blushing. Corvan felt a bit sorry for him. ¡°You don¡¯t have to call me ¡®sir.¡¯ You can use my name and call me Corvan if you want.¡±

    The lizard shook his head vigorously. ¡°Oh no! Were I to use your title when others may hear, that would be the end of us both.¡± His tone softened. ¡°Perhaps I may be permitted to use your personal name?¡±

    ¡°Corvan is the only name I have.¡±

    ¡°I refer to the name your mother used: Kalian.¡±

    ¡°My mother never called me that.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps not,¡± Tsarek said, ¡°But she sang it to you often in her song. Kalian means my only one.¡±

    Kalian. Was that the name Grandfather¡¯s letter referred to? He liked the sound of it. ¡°That will be fine. From now on, you can call me Kalian.¡±

    The lizard¡¯s eyes shone with honor. He crossed to Corvan, placed a slender paw on his knee, and looked into his eyes. ¡°Tsarek promises to serve Kalian and ¡­ Oh, sir, I am sorry.¡± His voice faltered, and his paw dropped from Corvan¡¯s knee.

    Tsarek, pulled back across the cavern floor. He leaned heavily against the crystals, and a discordant jangling filled the room.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Corvan asked.

    ¡°I cannot serve you for you must kill me. You must take the right of family blood.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? I don¡¯t understand,¡± Corvan said.

    The lizard pulled something from a niche in the wall. He placed the object into Corvan¡¯s hand and then stepped away while bowing deeply.

    An old pocket watch with crudely scratched symbols over its back lay in his palm. He turned it over. The front cover was carefully inscribed with the same insignia as the hammer. He flicked the catch, and the watch popped open. The bezel was cracked, and the hands were frozen together at the top position. Tiny words had been engraved on the inside cover. Lifting it toward the largest globe, Corvan read aloud, ¡°To Grandfather, on the birth of Corvan, September 21, 1937.¡±

    His mother had told him about this watch. It had been a present from her. He wrapped his hand tightly around it. ¡°Where did you get my grandfather¡¯s watch?¡± Corvan asked.

    ¡°I did not know who it was,¡± Tsarek said. ¡°It was dark, and I was afraid.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Did you meet my grandfather? Where? When?¡±

    ¡°The bones up above in the entry. I took it from the skeleton after ¡­¡± Tsarek fell prostrate on the floor. ¡°Oh, sir, my life is forfeit to you. You must now kill me; I am the one who took the life of your past-father.¡±

 Hammer 16

    Tsarek¡¯s words hung in the dense air of the small cave. Past-father could only refer to Corvan¡¯s grandfather. The lizard had lied about how long he watched the doors. He had murdered his grandfather to stop him from returning home!

    Anger blazed in Corvan¡¯s eyes. ¡°Why? Why did you kill my grandfather?¡±

    The lizard fell on its face on the floor. ¡°It was the task I was given by my master. I was under the band and had to obey.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s no excuse! You said you chose the band; you were responsible for your actions.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, it is true and that is why you must take my life for his.¡± Tsarek spoke into the dirt. ¡°It is the law of the Cor.¡±

    The scaly creature groveling at his feet only increased Corvan¡¯s frustration and anger. He wanted to punish it for what it had done, but he did not want to kill it. Corvan released the hammer from its holster and held it over the lizard¡¯s head. ¡°I am not your judge. The hammer will decide your punishment.¡±

    Tsarek rolled onto its back, and a guttural scream escaped its lips. Startled, Corvan stepped back, and the hammer smacked into the large globe. Warm blobs of blue light rained down around him. The room was plunged into darkness as they fizzled out on the floor.

    There was a rustle of movement, then a quiet voice spoke. ¡°Please, sir, do not use the hammer. I am afraid of what it might do to me.¡±

    The glow in the remaining smaller globes flickered back to life to reveal the pathetic form cowering against the far wall of the storage room. Corvan lowered the hammer. Tsarek had killed his grandfather, but the creature before him was different now that it no longer had the band around its neck.

    ¡°I will not take your life, Tsarek.¡± He slid the hammer back into the holster. ¡°I am not bound by your laws. You are free to go.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sir, please do not send me away.¡± Tsarek crawled back to Corvan. ¡°To send me away is to send me back to him.¡± He rested a paw on Corvan¡¯s right sneaker. ¡°Please, sir, I wish to stay with you. You will need me to get through the labyrinth. I freely desire to serve the Cor-Van and to help him rescue his counterpart and remove the black band. It makes you do terrible things.¡±

    Could Kate end up as angry and violent as Tsarek when he had worn the band? She was being drawn deeper into the darkness, and he needed Tsarek¡¯s help to find her whether he could trust him or not.

    ¡°I will let you be my guide until we find Kate and return.¡±

    Tsarek sat up and nodded vigorously. ¡°We cannot reach her now, and she can go no farther until the next shift of the labyrinth. That is also when the first portal will flow open. I must finish packing, and you need to rest. You can lie there.¡± He pointed to a low mound on the floor. ¡°It is my special sleeping place.¡±

    Corvan dragged the pack over and sat down. The weariness of the long day and night settled in as he leaned back against his pack. As he relaxed, the mound beneath him grew softer and conformed to his body. He desperately wanted to close his eyes but not with Tsarek nearby.

    Tsarek watched him with keen interest. ¡°There is a long journey ahead of us. I will wake you in time to repack your things. Although the first opening is quite large, the others may be too tight for all your belongings.¡±

    Tsarek turned away and began to pick through the alcoves cut into his storage room walls. Each hole contained something from the world above: a battered transistor radio with a piece of barbed wire stuck into the broken antenna, a carefully polished bent fork perched on a rock like a thin metal bird, a rusty adjustable wrench with only one jaw, and a scruffy baseball with Corvan¡¯s early attempts at a signature scrawled across it. The lizard was an organized packrat.

    Tsarek appeared to ignore Corvan, but from time to time the lizard¡¯s eyes would flicker in his direction. Was he waiting for him to fall asleep, so he could attack him and steal the hammer?

    He sat up and forced his eyes to stay open. He had to find out more about this creature.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°Tsarek.¡±

    The lizard jumped. ¡°You must sleep, sir. Our journey begins soon, and it will not be an easy one. You will not find a soft sleeping place like that once we are inside the labyrinth, only cold rocks.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t sleep. Too much has happened in the last day. Or has it even been a day? I guess there¡¯s no way to know down here.¡±

    ¡°We know the passing of time, sir, for the glow of the lumiens ebbs and flows in a regular pattern.¡±

    ¡°Like the tide of the ocean?¡±

    ¡°I do not know the word ¡®ocean,¡¯ but just like in your world, we rest in the dark and work during the light¡ªalthough I have heard that the settlement workers must work longer if the production of fire sticks can keep up with their progress.¡±

    ¡°What do the workers do?¡± Corvan asked. There was something not right with people being forced to work in the dark.

    ¡°Each group has different tasks to perform. The lowest class are the gleaners. They tend the lumien clusters and the other plants people need for food.¡±

    Corvan pushed his pack away and stretched out. ¡°The people eat only plants?¡±

    Tsarek emerged from his pantry with his paws full of wheat sheaves. A dried gopher carcass hung by one leg from his teeth. He scurried over to drop his load by the growing pile. ¡°It is against the law, but some have taken to eating other creatures.¡±

    ¡°Like what, cows?¡±

    Tsarek grinned, exposing his pointed teeth. ¡°Oh, no, nothing like cows. Just a few small animals, like those.¡± He gestured to the gopher carcass. ¡°Just as in your world, there are those who take advantage of their position higher up in the eating order.¡±

    Was the lizard saying that the high-ranking people ate those in classes lower than themselves? He thought of his grandfather¡¯s bones in the entry above and decided he didn¡¯t really want to know.

    Tsarek watched him intently, but when Corvan met his gaze, he bustled over to the cubby holes and began selecting more items. At times, he would hold something up to the light of the remaining lumiens, give a heavy sigh, and place it back in its cubbyhole. ¡°Such a wonderful collection,¡± he muttered. ¡°Some he has never seen before. There would have been a great privilege for bringing back such things.¡±

    Corvan stiffened. Tsarek must be referring to his former master. Was there also a reward for bringing him back?

    Tsarek chose three smaller items, wrapped each one in a scrap of cloth, and placed them by his row of supplies. He turned, and his eyes met Corvan¡¯s. ¡°Sir, you must sleep.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t. I have so many questions.¡±

    ¡°Then ask. I will try to help. I have been observing your world a long time.¡±

    ¡°You said above that you were guarding it before I was born?¡±

    ¡°Long before that. I was young myself when I was first sent here.¡±

    ¡°Were you expected to guard this portal all your life?¡±

    ¡°There is no returning unless the band calls you to report or another Watcher takes your place. We must keep the portal safe from all intruders. No one must be allowed to come into the Cor or to ¡­¡± Tsarek¡¯s voice trailed off, and he turned back to his packing.

    Corvan flicked the pocket watch open and reread the inscription. ¡°Did my grandfather say anything to you before he died?¡±

    Tsarek turned around. ¡°He did not have time.¡± A look of remorse crossed his face. ¡°When my kind are in a fight and kill, it is very swift.¡± The lizard lifted one claw and glared at it with the angry expression Corvan remembered vividly from the first encounter on the rock. Tsarek frowned at his claw, then the angry look returned. His dark eyes were smoldering with hatred.

    Corvan sat up and fumbled for the hammer.

    Tsarek¡¯s face relaxed, and the lizard moved his claw closer to Corvan¡¯s face. In the dim light of the small globes, he could make out a drop of yellow fluid forming at the tip of the longest claw.

    ¡°It just takes a scratch.¡± The lizard shook his claw, and the drip fell to the ground. ¡°It was much easier to produce with the band on because you need to get very angry to make it come out.¡± He pointed the claw at Corvan. ¡°Catching the rodents was simple. I would wait until they stuck their foolish heads out of their holes.¡± He made a slashing motion with his claw. ¡°They were dead before they could even pull their bodies back into their burrows. It is a little slower with larger animals, like that dog creature that attacked me. And I can make it even slower if I want them to live until I ¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Tsarek,¡± Corvan said, shaking his head. ¡°That¡¯s all I need to know.¡±

    Tsarek nodded politely. ¡°I am glad to be of service. Are you able to sleep now?¡±

    Any hope of sleep had abandoned Corvan. He would need to keep an eye on Tsarek day and night.

    Tsarek stepped up to the crystals. ¡°I know what will help you rest. My mentor used to play a tune for me when I could not sleep. I am not sure I can remember it after all this time, but I will try.¡±

    Tsarek ran his claws over the angular rocks, and soft music swirled around the cavern to surround Corvan like a warm blanket, like his mother¡¯s song.

    Leaning back against the pack, he closed his eyes. Small lizards danced in his imagination. Their claws were clicking on the rocks. He forced his eyes open to watch Tsarek¡¯s poisonous claws caressing the crystals. Sleeping with this dangerous creature so close was not a good idea.

    Corvan¡¯s eyes grew heavier. Just before they closed, he thought he saw a line of yellow venom dripping down the luminescent surface of the largest crystal.

 Hammer 17

    A shadow fell across Corvan¡¯s closed eyes. Something sharp brushed his cheek. He rolled away, and pain shot up his elbow before his arm went numb. The lizard had scratched him with his poisonous claw!

    Tsarek stood over him with his head cocked to one side. ¡°I am so sorry to have to wake you, Kalian, sir, but it is time for us to go.¡±

    Corvan moved his arm tentatively. The numbness ebbed away, though his elbow ached fiercely. He had hit his funny bone on the rock.

    A faint tremor ran through the cavern walls.

    ¡°The first portal is about to open,¡± Tsarek said, jumping towards the entrance into his cave. ¡°I let you sleep too long. We will need to sort through your pack between the chambers of the labyrinth.¡±

    Corvan sat up and rubbed his sore elbow.

    The lizard gestured over his shoulder to a small bundle tied to the end of a few long sticks. ¡°I did not have enough room, so while you slept, I added a few of my belongings to your pack. I hope that is all right.¡±

    Corvan got to his feet and hefted the pack. It was much heavier. ¡°What did you put in here, rocks?¡±

    Tsarek grinned. ¡°Just one,¡± he said, pointing to the musical crystals.

    Corvan looked around. All that remained of the largest crystal was a broken stump.

    ¡°If it is too much for you, I can try to carry it in my bundle,¡± Tsarek said, shaking the slender sticks balanced on his shoulder.

    Corvan shook his head as he pulled on the pack. ¡°It¡¯s okay. When we go through my stuff later, we¡¯ll decide what we really need.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir. I have grown attached to my music. I believe it will keep our spirits up during the long walk to the lower levels, especially if we get lost.¡±

    Another tremor went through the rock.

    ¡°The first door is opening.¡± Tsarek tugged on Corvan¡¯s sleeve. ¡°I am not sure how long we will have to get through.¡± The lizard hurried from the room with Corvan stumbling along at his heels.

    Tsarek was quickly lost to sight in the dark tunnel. ¡°Wait for me! I can¡¯t see anything. Where are you?¡±

    ¡°Right in front of you, sir. No time to stop. Follow my voice; the entry is not far. Watch out for the stones on the floor.¡±

    Watch? In complete darkness? Most likely the lizard could see in the dark.

    The lizard cried out in pain. ¡°There is a big stone in the middle of the path. Please be careful.¡±

    Nope, the lizard couldn¡¯t see in the dark either. Corvan shuffled his feet along to avoid stubbing his toes or twisting his ankle.

    An abrupt shift in air pressure caused Corvan¡¯s ears to pop. A moist breeze blew past that was heavy with the sulfuric odor of burning matches.

    ¡°It¡¯s just ahead, sir, and still open. The other entries all open at the same time, so the air from the Cor pushes toward the surface.¡± The lizard was fumbling with his bundle of sticks and presently a brilliant glow fluttered in the breeze.

    They were standing at the end of a roughly hewn tunnel. The source of the sour wind was before them: a hole in the wall about a foot off the ground and three feet in diameter. The rock around the edges rippled like melted blue glass. Wisps of smoke trailed from its edges. Corvan stepped closer and looked through, but there was only a black void on the other side.

    ¡°Do not touch it, sir. We must wait until it is fully formed, or it will close quickly and cut whatever is partway through to pieces.¡± The lizard shuddered. ¡°It is not a pretty sight.¡±

    ¡°Will Kate know not to touch them?¡±

    ¡°She will be moving forward, sir, as the black band calls her on. The next portal in the next cavern of the labyrinth will be formed by the time she gets there. See, now this one is ready.¡±

    Corvan noticed that the blue glass had turned a creamy tan color, and the smoke was gone.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    The lizard leaped up through the hole. His head popped back through. ¡°You can touch the side now.¡± His claws clicked on the glossy surface as he jumped back through the hole to Corvan¡¯s side. ¡°It will be easier if you throw your pack in first. I will stay here and hold the light for you.¡±

    Corvan tossed the heavy pack to the other side of the hole, put one foot over the threshold, and stood straddling the gap in the wall. He gingerly touched the surface. It pulsed warmly against his fingers. Blue light rippled out from around each fingertip.

    Tsarek shouted and shoved him through the hole to land in a heap on the other side. The opening snapped shut. Its light vanished as if someone had switched off the lights. The smell of burning matches infused the still air.

    Corvan heard the lizard grunt. ¡°Sir, I need your help, please. You will find more fire sticks attached to my bundle on the floor. The one in my claws is no longer useful.¡±

    Fumbling around the floor, Corvan located the sticks. He untied them and then exposed the capped end on one. White light flared to reveal Tsarek hanging from the end of a stick that stuck straight out of a solid cave wall. He looked so funny with his short, thick legs dangling in midair that Corvan had to choke back a laugh. ¡°Was the portal supposed to close that fast?¡±

    ¡°It hasn¡¯t in the past, but I believe that Kate found the next door very quickly. There is no other way to explain it.¡± The lizard shrugged, bobbing on the end of the stick like a jackfish on a willow pole. ¡°Could you help me down, sir?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not far. Just let go.¡±

    ¡°I would, sir, but when I get frightened my claws lock up on me.¡± Tsarek ducked his head and dropped his gaze to the ground. ¡°You will need to rub the spines on my back for me to relax enough to let go.¡±

    Corvan stepped closer. ¡°These little spikes?¡± He ran his hand up the lizard¡¯s prickly spine.

    ¡°The other way, please. That only makes me more tense.¡±

    Corvan ran his hand downward as if petting a cat.

    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s much better.¡± Tsarek dropped from the pole, and the stick twanged in the still air. Muttering a stiff ¡°thank you, sir,¡± the lizard scurried over to his belongings and bundled them back together.

    ¡°Will the next door be nearby?¡±

    ¡°Not always. The portals move each time they open and close. That is why we will need your hammer to guide us from here. It will be many hours until the next shifting. Let us find a comfortable spot to sort through your belongings.¡±

    Corvan hoisted his pack and grabbed the stick in the wall. ¡°I suppose we should break this off in case we need it later.¡± He pulled down and the stick shuddered in his hand. A dull boom thumped through the walls of the cavern.

    ¡°Oh, my, so fortunate it did not break on this side,¡± Tsarek exclaimed. ¡°To break a fire stick is to release all its energy at one time. Very dangerous. It is fortunate that the Cor shield is unbreakable.¡±

    Corvan stepped away from the stick. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°No harm done, sir. Though good for us that we are not deep enough for buraks. A vibration in their area would have them eating us before we could call out for help. One bite and you die even faster than my claws!¡±

    Corvan didn¡¯t recall the lizard mentioning man-eating creatures lurking below. He peered over his shoulder into the blackness. Were buraks the monster from his recurring nightmare? A shiver ran through his body. Was it a burak he would have to escape from in the labyrinth?

    ¡°Not to worry, sir. The buraks cannot enter the labyrinth. They are much farther down. Let¡¯s move along the tunnel in case that fire stick breaks on this side. Sometimes, when they get as old as these, they can shatter on their own. Very messy if you happen to be holding one.¡±

    Corvan thrust the fire stick at Tsarek. Tsarek¡¯s short legs churned as he moved off, and Corvan followed closely. Were Tsarek wrong about the buraks, he didn¡¯t want to meet one alone in the dark.

    The tunnel opened into a cavernous room with a low ceiling. The sound of water echoed in the far corner, and Corvan¡¯s parched throat reminded him he¡¯d had nothing to drink since leaving his home.

    Tsarek ran to the pool and crouched down to lap at the water like a scaly dog. The pool was a good twenty yards across to where the water tumbling in from a fissure in the wall. No water ran out of the pool, so the drain had to be somewhere below the surface.

    Corvan stretched out on the ground and drank. The water was cool and refreshing but tasted somewhat of fish. He glanced to one side. Tsarek had waded into the pool beside him and was washing his scales. ¡°Do you mind, Tsarek? I was still drinking.¡±

    ¡°No problem, sir,¡± Tsarek chirped in response. ¡°You do not bother me. Please continue.¡±

    Corvan shook his head and got to his feet. He waded in until the water was below his knees, stooped over, and splashed water onto his dirty face. He should have taken off his running shoes first. They would take a long time to dry in the damp air.

    The water was cool, but Tsarek didn¡¯t seem to mind. His energetic splashes were sending ripples dancing across the pool in all directions. The small waves bounced off the rock wall on the far side and crisscrossed on their way back like many thin snakes swimming just below the surface. The ripples moved toward Tsarek and then suddenly changed direction to undulate directly toward Corvan.

    He pointed at them. ¡°Hey, Tsarek, why are the ripples¡ª¡±

    He was yanked underwater by his legs. Corvan grabbed at a thin rope wrapped around his ankles, but even more ropes whipped around to bind his arms and legs together. Panic raged through him as he was dragged like a hogtied calf deep into the dark water.

    A bright light bubbled past, and he caught a glimpse of a fire stick in Tsarek¡¯s claws. The water foamed angrily around him, and his ears thundered in pain as the light faded to a narrow point.

    The ropes pulled him down even faster, and his lungs screamed for air. He had to breathe. His head throbbed. Sparks swam before his eyes. He tried to hang on, but before he could stop himself, his lips parted. Water swept into his lungs.

    A peaceful calm unexpectedly settled over him. His body relaxed, and his arms drifted limply past his face. A bright light approached, and in that moment he knew he was about to die and Kate would be forever lost in tunnels of the Cor.

 Hammer 18

    ¡°Breathe, sir, please breathe. You are the Cor-Van, and you must live to set the Cor free.¡±

    Tsarek¡¯s voice was hollow and distant. His body was heavy and unresponsive.

    ¡°Without you, the Kate will die.¡± The lizard rocked Corvan¡¯s body harder and pushed him onto his side.

    Water gurgled from the side of his mouth, but he couldn¡¯t pull in a breath. His heart fluttered, his body arched, and he coughed out streams of brackish water. Corvan managed to push up off the ground while gasping for air between bouts of retching and gagging.

    ¡°Thank you, sir, thank you.¡± Tsarek was patting his head.

    Finally, Corvan managed to raise to a sitting position and choke out a few words between coughs. ¡°What ¡­ happened? What ¡­ was that?¡±

    ¡°I think it is an offspring from the great water creature in the Cor, the Volisk. This one¡¯s arms were very long but smaller and easy to burn through. Even a fire stick is no match for the body of a large one.¡± He pointed to where a floating fire stick was casting its bubbling glow through the water.

    ¡°Was it your stick that I saw under the water?¡± Corvan fell into another fit of coughing.

    ¡°Yes. They burn well under water.¡± He dropped the pair of unlit ones and waded out to retrieve the glowing one in the water.

    A long, white tentacle rose to the surface. Tsarek gave it a poke with the burning end of the fire stick. The arm of the creature twitched horribly, and the lizard sprinted for the shore.

    Corvan heaved up water until his ribs and stomach ached.

    ¡°I burned through many of its arms, but they just kept coming,¡± Tsarek said as he was pushing the glowing fire stick in a crack in the floor. ¡°It was not until we came to this pool that I finally burned through that last one and it let you go.¡± Tsarek looked over his shoulder. ¡°I just wish I knew where we are now.¡±

    Corvan hunched over and was suppressing a new coughing fit as he checked out their surroundings. They were in a new cavern, one with a high ceiling and deep black walls. The pool was long and narrow, and there was no water coming in or going out. The surface was as smooth as a mirror. The limp arm of the water monster reflected in the shallows.

    Tsarek looked at him. ¡°I believe we are still in the labyrinth, but I am not sure how to locate the next opening or if the Kate is even nearby. I do not even know which level we are on or how many entries we skipped. This is not good, not good at all.¡±

    The air was much cooler, and Corvan shivered with cold, and fear. Would the rest of this adventure be this dangerous? They had just started out, and already he had nearly drowned.

    ¡°Oh, sir, I forgot you humans cannot tolerate the cold. I heard your mother say you might catch your death of cold.¡± He pressed his smooth, chilly nose up against Corvan¡¯s cheek. ¡°Are you dying?¡±

    Corvan tried to answer, but his teeth chattered too much to talk.

    ¡°You must not die. I shall get you warm.¡± He jumped over to Corvan¡¯s pack and yanked the top open. A clump of soggy clothes came free along with the slingshot. Tsarek tossed them to one side and dug deeper into the pack. ¡°Here is something that is still dry.¡± He shook out the gray cloth from the chest and the fireworks tumbled to the ground.

    Tsarek let out a long hiss as he lifted the cloth and stared at it with wide eyes. ¡°Only the master had one of these. He used it, so he could walk undetected through the Cor.¡± He turned to Corvan. ¡°When you wear it, others see it for whatever is in their mind or whatever surrounds you. Did it belong to your past-father?¡±

    ¡°Wear it?¡± Corvan leaned closer and touched the fabric.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Tsarek stated. ¡°That is why it has a hood and buttons, like the yellow rain jacket you sometimes wore.¡±

    ¡°If it belongs to your master,¡± Corvan doubled over and coughed up more water, ¡°is it an evil thing?¡±

    ¡°Oh no, not evil, but highly valuable. He will surely want to find it and take it away from you.¡± He draped it over Corvan¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You must wear it at all times, so he cannot find you.¡±

    Despite the cold fear in his heart, Corvan¡¯s body was immediately infused with warmth. Tsarek flipped the hood over his head, and Corvan breathed deeply.

    ¡°If you do not like it, I will look for other dry things.¡± Tsarek stuck his head inside the pack, and Corvan heard a muffled expression of surprise. The lizard emerged, holding the strange coil of rope in his claws. ¡°Most incredible. I have never seen one so long and thin. There are tales of such that used to grow in the farthest regions, but I did not think them true. Where did you acquire a krypin such as this?¡±

    ¡°It was my grandfather¡¯s. He left it for me in case he did not return.¡±

    Tsarek¡¯s face fell. ¡°Most sorry, sir. I should not be touching such things.¡± Tsarek dropped the rope at Corvan¡¯s feet and moved over to the clothes. ¡°The air is drier here. We must be closer to the Cor. Perhaps I should lay your things on the rocks to dry?¡±

    ¡°I have a better idea.¡± Corvan grabbed the rope. Pushing on the dark button, he ran the sticky disk out to a wall and tied the other end off at a short pillar of rock near his pack. ¡°There, a clothesline. Just like at home. You can hang up the clothes while I empty out the pack. I need to check on my food.¡±

    Tsarek grimaced, and Corvan realized that the lizard¡¯s food supplies had been left behind at the upper pool.

    ¡°I should have enough food for both of us,¡± Corvan said. ¡°Do you like canned beans? We can lighten the pack at the same time.¡±

    ¡°I have never tried beans from a can. I could not make the thing you use to open it work with my paws, but I am grateful for your concern.¡± He began to hang up the wet clothes.

    A low stone slab the size of his kitchen table lay just beyond his clothesline. Grabbing his pack, he carried it to the stone table, set it down, and began to unpack the soggy contents. The beef jerky in the side pocket was a little soft, but it would dry out. Amazingly, the knot on the bread bag filled with cookies had kept the water out. He set it aside for later.

    He found Tsarek¡¯s wrapped bundles in one of the larger side pockets. Hopefully none of them would turn out to be a slimy gopher carcass. As he piled them by the pack, a small red Swiss Army knife tumbled out. His ninth birthday present that had gone missing when he left it out at the fort.

    He glanced at Tsarek smoothing out his clothes on the line. Finders keepers; losers, weepers. Wrapping the knife up, he placed it on top of Tsarek¡¯s pile. At the bottom of the compartment, he found Tsarek¡¯s musical crystal. Corvan stood it on the rock, stroked it lightly, and was startled by a soft, clear note.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Tsarek¡¯s head jerked up, and he rushed over. ¡°Thank you, sir, but please do not attach it to the rock. I do not want to break it off again or the tone will grow too faint to hear.¡±

    Corvan tipped the stone down, and the soft glow died away. Tsarek tried to gather all his bundles in his paws, but there were too many to carry. ¡°Do you need a hand?¡± Corvan offered.

    ¡°No, no, I am fine,¡± Tsarek stammered, ¡°I will move my things over by the wall and dry them there. You do not need to help me, sir. I will come right back.¡± Tsarek hurried to the far wall but kept glancing over his shoulder. He sprinted back to the table, loaded up the rest, then ran them back to the wall. With his back to Corvan, he pawed through his possessions. A sharp hiss escaped his teeth, and he ran back. ¡°One is missing.¡±

    ¡°Did you put something in another pocket?¡± Corvan said, turning to the pack.

    ¡°No. Please look again.¡± Tsarek leaped onto the table and poked at the pack.

    Corvan felt in the pocket. Sure enough, a flat circle of cloth lay on the bottom. It was warm to the touch. He pulled it out and the cloth unraveled slightly to reveal a silver disk with lines etched across its center.

    Tsarek snatched the object from his hands and tied it back up. ¡°Thank you, sir. That is the one I was missing.¡± He bounded off the table with the bundle clutched to his chest. With his back to Corvan, he unwrapped and carefully rewrapped all his things.

    Corvan shrugged. Crows and packrats carefully guarded their treasures, no matter how worthless they were.

    Tsarek finished fussing with his belongings and joined Corvan at the stone table. His eyes scanned the food laid out on the rock. Corvan picked out a small piece of jerky and held it out to him. ¡°Try this; you might like it.¡±

    Tsarek nibbled, nodded enthusiastically, then took a larger bite. ¡°That is very good. What is it?¡±

    ¡°Beef jerky. Dried strips of beef.¡±

    ¡°Much better than the small rodents. What is beef?¡±

    ¡°It comes from the large black-and-white animals in the field next to ours, the cows.¡±

    Tsarek bit off another piece of jerky, chewing and nodding. ¡°Do all cows taste this good or just the black-and-white ones?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re pretty much the same.¡±

    ¡°Had I realized, I would have eaten one of those instead of the small rodents.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve obviously never been chased by a bull.¡±

    ¡°Bull, sir?¡±

    ¡°A male cow. It¡¯s big and dangerous.¡±

    Tsarek raised a claw. ¡°One does not need to be big to be dangerous.¡±

    There was a drop of yellow on the end of the claw. Was Tsarek that upset about his missing silver disk? He leaned in closer to look.

    Tsarek dropped his claw and took another bite of the jerky. ¡°Thank you, sir, for sharing your provisions with me.¡±

    ¡°We could try some beans if you like.¡±

    ¡°Not yet. We need to be careful with the food. We do not know how long we will be here, where here is, or if there is a way out of here.¡±

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯re trapped?¡±

    ¡°I do not know, sir. Permit me to see if there are any passages out of here. It will not take long.¡± Tsarek scrambled away and disappeared into the dim recesses of the cavern.

    Corvan nibbled at his jerky and opened one button of his cloak to get more comfortable. The clothes under the cloak were almost dry. Somehow, the special cloak was able to pull the moisture away from his body, although his feet were still cramped and cold.

    The soft slippers from his grandfather¡¯s chest lay beside the pack. Unlacing his sneakers, Corvan struggled to remove his wet socks, but he was glad he made the effort. Pulling on the slippers was like stepping into a warm bath after playing all day in the snow. The lightweight fabric contracted around his feet like a second skin, each toe showing distinctly through the soft material.

    Swinging his legs off the table, he walked about on the rough floor. He could feel every ridge through the smooth soles, yet the small pebbles and sharp rocks felt no different than going barefoot in the warm summer sand at Buffalo Lake.

    He followed over to where Tsarek had gone. The slippers gripped tightly on the rocky surface, and he ran ahead. He turned a corner, and the light from the torch behind him vanished. It was so silent he could hear water dripping off to one side. Something was rustling toward him. He slowed his pace as his knees plowed into something that sent him toppling to the ground, scraping his hands along the rocks, and slamming the air out of his lungs.

    ¡°Do not move,¡± a hoarse voice croaked in his ear and a sharp point pressed into his throat. ¡°In the name of the Chief Watcher, who are you and what are you doing here?¡±

    Corvan tried to speak, but no sound came out. The fall had knocked the wind out of him.

    ¡°Answer me,¡± the voice rasped, ¡°or I will kill you now.¡±

    Corvan managed to pull in a small bit of air, ¡°Cor ¡­ Cor ¡­ Kalian.¡±

    ¡°Kalian?¡± The voice changed the gleam of Tsarek¡¯s eyes appeared over his shoulder. ¡°It is you! Oh sir, I am so sorry. I did not hear you coming. I thought I was being attacked by someone lying in wait for me.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s breath returned in a painful gasp.

    ¡°Are you injured? Can you stand?¡±

    Corvan croaked out a weak, ¡°Yes, I¡¯m okay.¡±

    The lizard helped him to his feet. ¡°Let¡¯s get you back to the light and make sure.¡±

    Corvan followed Tsarek back to the burning fire stick next to the stone table.

    As they retraced their steps, Tsarek kept looking at Corvan¡¯s feet. ¡°Where did you get those shoes?¡±

    ¡°They were with my grandfather¡¯s things.¡±

    ¡°Have you listened to them?¡±

    Corvan held his breath, but all he could hear was the drip of water from the clothesline and the click of Tsarek¡¯s claws on the floor.

    They arrived at the table, and Corvan sat down wearily. ¡°I didn¡¯t hear anything.¡±

    Tsarek crouched and examined Corvan¡¯s feet while shaking his head in amazement. ¡°Your shoes make no noise at all. I have keen hearing and would have heard you coming, but I heard nothing until you bumped into me. These are very special shoes, sir. I have never heard of such a thing, but they must be a companion to your grandfather¡¯s cloak.¡±

    Corvan pulled one foot onto the table. As he reached to touch one of the shoes, a drop of blood fell from his fingertip to the table.

    ¡°You are hurt, sir. Please let me see.¡±

    Tsarek gently turned Corvan¡¯s palm up. A thick flap of skin had been torn back when a sharp stone had broken his fall. Bloody sand oozed out around the edges.

    ¡°We must clean it and bind it up. I will get a rag.¡± The lizard darted towards the far wall and unraveled a cloth from one of his objects. Running to the pool, he stooped to dampen it and then bounded back to Corvan. ¡°Let me see your hand, sir.¡±

    Corvan held out the bleeding hand. Tsarek dabbed tenderly at the loose piece of flesh. Corvan wanted to jerk his hand away but forced himself to remain steady as the lizard pushed his skin and tissue back into position.

    ¡°Please hold this in place while I get more cloth,¡± Tsarek said.

    Corvan¡¯s hand throbbed as he pressed it against the cloth. He winced. This hurt much more than burning his finger on the half dollar.

    Of course! Why didn¡¯t he think of that sooner? Freeing the hammer from its holster, he gingerly wrapped his wounded hand around the shaft. The end glowed and his palm stretched and pulled, as if ants were crawling out of the handle and using their pincers to close the wound.

    The pain eased. Pulling the hammer and rags away to discover only a faint line remained. Clenching his fist and opening it he discovered that although the skin felt a little tight in the center, the pain was gone.

    The lizard returned. ¡°Here you are, sir. I have enough now to wrap your¡ª¡± Tsarek stared at Corvan then looked at the hammer.

    ¡°It is very powerful, sir.¡±

    Corvan stood, but a dizzy rush caused him to sway and sit back down.

    ¡°You must rest while I keep looking for a way out. I shall awaken you if I find a path to follow.¡±

    Corvan nodded, pushed the pack to the floor, and curled up on the stone. Using the hammer had left him incredibly tired.

    In his dreams, Corvan found himself back at his home. He was lighting a fire in his backyard and could smell the matches. A pale white moon flickered behind him, bobbed along, and came to rest over the clothesline where his dripping T-shirts rippled in a cool breeze. The moon swung closer, but when he lifted his head to see it more clearly, it bounced away and disappeared. The smell of matches came again, the moon reappeared, turned blue, then oozed out of sight over the horizon.

    Corvan smiled dreamily to himself.

    How strange that the moon should have Kate¡¯s face.

 Hammer 19

    Corvan opened his eyes, blinked, then blinked again to make sure they were open. Absolute dark was an unsettling sensation. It felt like he was breathing the black into his head and it was seeping out his eyes.

    A faint glimmer appeared on the other side of the pool, and then a growing light pushed the shadows away. Tsarek walked toward him with the stub of a fire stick hanging limply at his side. Giving the pool a wide berth, he shuffled up to the stone table.

    ¡°Did you find a way out?¡± Corvan asked.

    ¡°No, I did not.¡± The lizard wedged the short fire stick into a crack on the table. ¡°I found one thin, twisting tunnel and followed it for a long way. It kept getting lower until it reached a narrow crack you cannot fit through.¡±

    ¡°So, it¡¯s a dead end?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Tsarek scowled at him. ¡°There is a larger cavern after the narrow place, but as I just said, you can¡¯t fit through.¡±

    ¡°But it is the only way out of here?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Then we have no choice but to try.¡±

    Tsarek pulled himself wearily onto the rock. ¡°You are the master, but I will need to rest first. If you could let me eat one of your cows, I would be grateful.¡±

    Corvan handed a piece of jerky to the lizard. ¡°My fire stick must have burned out. It was pitch black in here before you came back.¡±

    Tsarek talked past a chunk of meat. ¡°You must have put it out before sleeping. It should have at least two full times of burning left.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I did.¡± Corvan said, leaving the table to check where it had been stuck in the rock. ¡°You must have come back for it.¡±

    The lizard stopped chewing and shot him a withering glance. ¡°And how could I do that and be far away down that very long tunnel at the same time?¡±

    Corvan pointed to the ground. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not here.¡±

    Tsarek was beside him and searching the spot in a flash. Dropping to all fours, he sniffed at the rocks and scampered from side to side. He groaned as he stood up. ¡°Not lost. It was stolen. The Kate has come through here while you slept. Her flower scent still lingers.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s head snapped up, and he searched around the cavern. ¡°Kate was here? Why didn¡¯t she wake me?¡±

    The lizard¡¯s short arms shot up over his head. ¡°Wake you? Be glad she did not kill you! The Kate is under the control of the band, but she must have sensed the hammer about you and dared not come close to you.¡±

    Tsarek bounded to the wall where he had carefully stored his possessions. ¡°Nooo! The thief! She has taken it from me.¡± The lizard stamped back to the rock table while hissing and muttering.

    ¡°What did she take?¡±

    ¡°She took the one I value most.¡±

    ¡°The silver disc?¡±

    The lizard¡¯s eyes blazed as it leapt onto the table. ¡°Who said you could look at my things?¡± He pointed a sharp claw at Corvan¡¯s face. ¡°Is that why you hid it in your pack? Because you wanted it for yourself?¡±

    Corvan took a step back. ¡°No. I saw the middle of it when I took it out for you. It was ¡­ warm.¡±

    Tsarek sank down onto the rock. ¡°Yes, it feels nice. All those years I would hold it to ease the weight of the black band.¡± His body sagged lower. ¡°Without it, I would have been completely lost to the darkness. When I held it close, the band would burn me, but I did not care.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Is that why you got so angry when I touched it?¡±

    ¡°I knew you would want to take it for yourself,¡± Tsarek pouted.

    ¡°Why would I do that?¡±

    Tsarek squirmed. ¡°Because it belongs to the hammer. It is the counterpart.¡±

    Corvan sat bewildered. Kate was a counterpart and now the hammer had a counterpart? ¡°How do you know it belongs with the hammer?¡±

    ¡°I saw the markings on the bottom of the hammer when you were going to punish me with it.¡± Tsarek said, then looked away. ¡°They are the same as the ones on the disc.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    Tsarek stared at the ground and then nodded. ¡°I know it belongs with the hammer because,¡± he drew in a long breath, ¡°because it was in your past-father¡¯s hand when he died.¡±

    Corvan¡¯s mind reeled. The disk had to be the third piece his grandfather had spoken of, the one he¡¯d said he would need to take with him. Instead, Kate was taking it to the lizard¡¯s evil master.

    Tsarek put a paw on his shoulder. ¡°I am sorry to bring up your past-father¡¯s death.¡± He spoke softly. ¡°I see it has hurt you greatly.¡±

    Corvan focused on the lizard¡¯s eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not only his dying. I just don¡¯t understand why the hammer needs the disc. If he were here, then he would help me figure it out.¡±

    ¡°All I know is that the hammer tells me what I am,¡± Tsarek said, ¡°but the disk always gave me hope that I could be better.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain why a hammer would be paired with a disc. It seems a hammer should be with another tool, like a saw, or else a large spike or nail.¡±

    Tsarek shrugged and then left the table to pull clothes from the line.

    Corvan slipped the hammer free of the holster. It was too small to be any good for building things; the handle was too short. It was more like a model you¡¯d see on a shelf or on a desk. A memory formed. At home, he had seen a small wooden hammer that was lying next to a round disk. Closing his eyes, he pulled the faint recollection forward.

    ¡°Of course! That¡¯s it!¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡± Tsarek scurried back to the table.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a hammer, Tsarek, it¡¯s a gavel, and the disk is what it pounds on.¡±

    ¡°Gravel, sir?¡± Tsarek came closer to the table. ¡°I thought that was your word for small rocks?¡±

    ¡°Not gravel, gavel. It¡¯s a ceremonial hammer that a judge bangs on a wooden disk to stop an argument. I saw one at the town council meeting when they tried to take our field away. Old Man Fry was shouting at my dad, and the mayor banged his gavel on a disk to get everyone to be quiet.¡± Corvan held out the hammer, and Tsarek backed away.

    ¡°With the band gone, you don¡¯t need to fear this anymore.¡±

    Tsarek slowly shook his head and then turned back to pulling the clothes from the line.

    Balancing the hammer in his hand, Corvan thought back to the council meeting and the injustice his father had suffered. He had been angry to see how prejudiced people were against his father. It was good to seek the truth, but there also needs to be some kindness. He nodded to himself and held the hammer higher. Maybe that¡¯s why the hammer needed a counterpart. The disk could ensure the truth was balanced with compassion.

    Tsarek called over his shoulder from where he was picking through his things. ¡°You will need to pack up your belongings. If it is permissible, I need to put a few things in your pack. I no longer have a way to carry them.¡±

    Corvan slid off the rock and pulled the pack closer. One of the side pockets hung open. The bag of cookies was gone. For a moment, he was angry at Kate for stealing them, but then he thought of her wandering alone in the darkness with nothing to eat. He wouldn¡¯t even mention it to Tsarek¡ªno use getting him more upset.

    The lizard approached as if he were in a funerary procession. His tail dragged limply on the rocks, and his crystal was cradled against his chest. ¡°There is nothing else I will need, except this.¡±

    Corvan wanted to say no, that the pack was too heavy, but the sadness in Tsarek¡¯s eyes would not let him. Adding the crystal to his pack, he retrieved the krypin and his clothes. The fireworks lay on the ground where they had tumbled out of the cloak. It was a good thing he had wrapped them inside it; they were still dry. He tucked them in along one side of the pack before he realized that his wet sneakers were missing. The old sneakers Kate had taken from the scarecrow were likely too big for her feet, so she had stolen his. At least he had the new slipper shoes.

    Tsarek pointed at the krypin. ¡°I have seen where people use the opening end to make a coil and attach it to their waist in case it is needed quickly.¡±

    Corvan nodded and did as he suggested. With his hammer and holster on one side and the coiled rope on the other, a renewed sense of confidence settled over him.

    ¡°Since the Kate has already gone through this level,¡± Tsarek intoned, ¡°the door will not open here again. I fear this cave will be our tomb.¡±

    Corvan pulled on his pack, ¡°Then we must take everything along with us and try the small tunnel that you found.¡±

    Tsarek did not respond and shuffled away around the pool.

    Corvan followed. He did not want to think of what would happen if Tsarek was right.

 Hammer 20

    A suffocating darkness pressed in on Corvan. Tsarek insisted they travel in darkness to conserve their last fire stick.  He claimed there were no rocks on the sandy floor, at least none that he could remember.

    Corvan was glad that the insignia on the hammer gave off a feeble blue light¡ªlike a flashlight with the batteries almost depleted. It was enough to keep him from stubbing his toes on the occasional rock that did show up. Tsarek stayed ahead of the pool of light as if he were afraid it would bite his heels.

    ¡°Is it much farther, Tsarek? We¡¯ve been walking for hours.¡± Corvan made no attempt to curb his growing frustration.

    ¡°Just a bit more. The roof is¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ouch!¡± Corvan exclaimed as his head scraped the ceiling.

    ¡°It is even lower up ahead,¡± Tsarek said. ¡°You might want to crawl.¡±

    Corvan got down on all fours on the sandy floor. ¡°How much farther to the tight spot?¡±

    ¡°Not far.¡±

    Corvan soon realized that not far likely meant something different to Tsarek than it did to him. After jamming the hammer under the strap of the pack, he rolled up the cloak under his belt to free up his legs. He was about to ask Tsarek if they could take a break when the lizard twisted around in the narrow confines of the passage and pointed ahead.

    ¡°This is the place where you will need to take off your pack and push it through.¡±

    Corvan pulled out the hammer and unbuckled the straps. He had to roll onto his side to remove the pack. ¡°If I push it in front of me. It might get stuck.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps if you tied it to your leg with the krypin and pulled it along behind you?¡± Tsarek said, but then he shook his head. ¡°No, that won¡¯t work,¡± he muttered. ¡°If the pack gets stuck, I could not get past you to release it from your leg. Then we would both be trapped.¡±

    Corvan shivered at the thought. His father told a story about a caver named Floyd Collins. In a tight crawl, a rock fell behind him and trapped his legs. His rescuers could see him, but they couldn¡¯t pull him free. They tried to tunnel around him, but he lost too much body heat and died from hypothermia.

    ¡°Then I guess there is no choice but to leave the pack here,¡± Corvan said. ¡°I¡¯ll leave the rope here as well. If I get through, you can bring me one end and I can pull the pack through from the other side. Is there enough space to turn around after the tight spot?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it comes out in a larger cavern. I believe it might be the outer limits of the Cor. The band of rock we call the Cor shield transmits light from deep inside the Cor. I saw a bit of dim light inside the crack. Either we are a long way out, or the Cor was in a dark phase.¡±

    Corvan didn¡¯t understand all that Tsarek was saying, but there was at least some hope of getting through.

    Tsarek scrambled into the darkness, and Corvan followed with the soft glow from the hammer lighting the way. Soon the tunnel became so low that he had to wiggle snakelike along the floor.

    The sleeve of the cloak snagged on a rock. Corvan pulled on it, but he was unable to move forward or back. Panic welled up at the thought of the millions of tons of rock above him. The passage seemed to squeeze in even tighter. Everything in him clamored to thrash about to get free of the constricted space. Musky-smelling dust clogged his nose. He gasped and tried to pull in a breath, but the intense pressure on his chest cut off his breath. It was as if he were drowning once more, but this time in solid rock.

    The hammer cast the light of its circular words on the wall by his face. The script seemed more natural that way. He couldn¡¯t read them, but somehow the words reassured him that things would be okay. The soft glow calmed his mind, and he breathed slowly until his pulse returned to normal.

    Imagining his cloak and the jagged rock that had hooked it, he rotated his shoulder until the trapped sleeve slid free. Keeping the light of the hammer out in front, he wiggled on.

    ¡°Look this way, sir.¡± Tsarek¡¯s muffled voice came from Corvan¡¯s left, where two gleaming eyes looked at him through a narrow crack in the wall. ¡°This is the spot, sir. You must get through this hole to make it into the cavern I am standing in.¡±

    Corvan inspected the crack. The passage he was crawling through ran horizontally, but the crack ran vertically. Where the two met, a small trapezoidal opening had formed, but it was far too small. He lowered his forehead to the cold rock. ¡°My shoulders won¡¯t fit through there.¡±

    ¡°You must try, sir. There is no other way out. If you do not make it through, you will most certainly die in there.¡±

    Most certainly die ¡­ his stomach clenched at the thought of wriggling backwards through the tunnel to die of starvation and cold in that last cave. Kate would also die if he didn¡¯t find her. The memory of her face when she had passed through the last cavern had been haunting him. He was certain her eyes had been begging for his help, despite what Tsarek had said about her and the black band.

    Summoning his courage, he breathed in and out a few times to steady himself and then wiggled in closer to the small opening. ¡°There¡¯s more than one way to skin a cat,¡± he mumbled.

    ¡°It is not worth the effort, sir. I have tried the creature called cat. They are tough and not at all tasty.¡±

    Corvan looked at the unblinking eyes. His mother had wondered what had become of her favorite tabby.

    ¡°It¡¯s just an expression,¡± Corvan said. ¡°It means there are always other solutions if you look hard enough and take the time to think things through. I¡¯m not going to die of hunger in the next ten minutes, so let¡¯s examine the problem carefully. My shoulders won¡¯t get any smaller, but maybe there¡¯s a way to make the hole larger. How about the hammer?¡±

    ¡°I do not think this hole is very stable, and there is a large overhang of rock above it on my side. It could crack off and collapse at any time. It may not be the best skinning of a cat to try the hammer. The risk is great and¡ª¡±

    ¡°All right, I get the picture. How about a fire stick? You said it could burn through rock.¡±

    ¡°Not this rock. This is the Cor shield. A fire stick will not burn it, and if we try, the stick will explode.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Corvan held the hammer closer to the vertical crack. The rock around it was shiny and black, like the piece of obsidian he had in his collection at home.

    ¡°This is the main wall around the Cor?¡±

    ¡°I believe it is. At least this side smells like the Cor.¡±

    Corvan sniffed at the of air coming through the hole. It was damp and smelled of rotting compost. ¡°It doesn¡¯t smell very good.¡±

    The eyes blinked rapidly. ¡°It smells like home.¡±

    ¡°Then I must make it through. If I twist diagonally in the opening, that might give me a bit more room, but I need to take the cloak off first. It could bunch up and trap me.¡±

    As he squirmed out of the cloak, Corvan realized just how cold the cave walls were. Pulling his legs up behind him, he dug his toes into the soft sand and rotated his body around until he was heading toward Tsarek. He pushed into the crack and stopped. ¡°If this is a shield wall, will it close and squish me like the blue wall around your fire stick?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so, sir. This one is black, so it is a very old crack. It¡¯s the new ones that can close up on you. Those ones are a lighter color with more light inside them.¡±

    Corvan gingerly touched the hard crystalline surface. Nothing changed. ¡°All right, then. Here goes nothing.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, sir? Where is the nothing and where will it be going?¡±

    Ignoring Tsarek¡¯s questions, Corvan extended his arms into the opening and pushed forward.

    Tsarek backed away from the hammer¡¯s glow. ¡°You are doing it, sir. Keep coming¡ªnot far now.¡±

    Corvan pushed until his feet no longer gripped in the sand behind him. Wriggling and squirming, his body moved into the crack.

    ¡°Your hands are through, sir. It¡¯s working!¡±

    The rock surface tore at Corvan¡¯s shoulders as if the Cor shield was doing its best to keep him out of the Cor. Panicked, he jerked erratically in the tiny space, banging his knees against the rocks behind him. He gained a few precious inches and his face emerged from the other side of the crack with the hammer held out awkwardly in front of him.

    ¡°You are here, sir. I am so happy,¡± Tsarek exclaimed.

    Tsarek¡¯s face was level with his and by the hammer¡¯s glow he could see lizard was standing on a narrow rock shelf. Below Tsarek, a scree slope of broken shards stretched away into the darkness.

    ¡°My head may be through, but my shoulders are stuck. I need to get one shoulder out and my body will follow.¡±

    Corvan wiggled his left hand. The lizard held out both claws and intertwined them so Corvan could wrap his fingers around them.

    ¡°Okay, Tsarek, lean back and pull.¡±

    The lizard leaned back. Corvan¡¯s shoulder moved an inch, then jammed tight. The folds of his shirt bunched and pinched at his flesh.

    ¡°I think my shirt is part of the problem. Can you climb up by my shoulder and pull some of the cloth through the opening?¡±

    The lizard scrambled up the wall and got in close to the trapped shoulder. A sharp yank was followed by the sound of tearing cloth.

    ¡°So sorry, sir. I have ruined your garment.¡±

    Cool air flowed over his arm as Tsarek reappeared with a piece of Corvan¡¯s shirt sleeve draped over a claw.

    ¡°I think we must remove the skin from a different cat, sir.¡±

    Corvan managed a wry smile. ¡°We¡¯ve got to free my shoulder. Take the hammer and carefully chip away at the rock lip that has it trapped.¡±

    Tsarek shook his head so vigorously his scales rattled. ¡°I cannot touch the hammer. It may kill me, and you will be stuck forever.¡±

    ¡°Then wrap my shirtsleeve around the handle, like you did on the Castle Rock.¡±

    ¡°That may work. Just a moment.¡± Tsarek bent to the ground, and Corvan heard the soft hiss of a fire stick.

    Brilliant light stabbed his eyes. ¡°Put out the light! Corvan cried out. ¡°It¡¯s too bright!¡± He clamped his eyes shut to push away the pain.

    ¡°Sorry, sir. There, is that better?¡±

    Corvan opened his gritty eyes. All he could see was milky white orbs. ¡°Is it still on?¡±

    ¡°No, sir, it is out.¡±

    Corvan recalled this happening when his father was welding metal and his goggles had fell off. His dad couldn¡¯t see much for almost a week.

    His cramped body tightened with fresh fear, and he forced himself to calm down. His eyesight should eventually return. For now, he had to find a way out of the crack.

    ¡°Move the fire stick farther away from me on the other side, then light it again. I will drop the hammer and you try to chip away the rock by my shoulder.¡±

    Tsarek scrambled out of the way as Corvan relaxed his fingers and let the hammer go. As it fell from his hand, a fresh wave of nausea coursed through him. Forcing himself to relax, Corvan focused on the white lights floating before his eyes. They had already faded slightly. That was a good sign.

    ¡°I am ready, sir. Please hold still.¡±

    A sharp crack was followed immediately by a deep gong and a rumbling whoosh past Corvan¡¯s ears. The air filled with dust. He choked and coughed, and his chest squeezed painfully against the rocks.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Corvan asked.

    The only reply was sliding rock and crashing boulders on the slope below.

    ¡°Tsarek?¡±

    Distant thudding echoes were mixed with the clatter of small rocks peppering down from above. The acrid taste of fear mingled with the dusty talc in his mouth.

    ¡°That was a close one, sir,¡± Tsarek said quietly in the dense air. ¡°I barely touched the black rock and the whole wall shook. A piece of the slab above you came down and just missed your head. The rest of the boulder hangs above and may come down at any moment.¡±

    A small rock clattered down, glancing with a sharp blow off Corvan¡¯s head and bouncing down the slope. A low grinding followed.

    ¡°The rock is sliding. Pull your head back!¡± Tsarek pushed frantically on Corvan¡¯s head, then stopped. The cavern was silent.

    ¡°Sir,¡± the lizard¡¯s tense voice whispered in his ear, ¡°we must push you back or pull you out now. That huge rock balances just over your head and soon we will both be crushed. We must make your shoulders smaller.¡±

    As soon as Tsarek said those words Corvan recalled a diagram in one of his dad¡¯s caving books. To release a trapped person, the rescuers would break one of the trapped person¡¯s collarbones and then push the shoulder in toward the body.

    He shuddered.

    The rock grumbled.

    Tsarek tensed.

    Pain would be better than death. ¡°Tsarek, you must use the hammer again.¡±

    ¡°Sir, if I touch the wall, the rock will surely come down on us.¡±

    ¡°Not the rock, Tsarek. This time you must hit me.¡±

    Tsarek¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Sir?¡±

    It took a while to convince the lizard of the necessity of the operation and the method by which it had to be accomplished. At first, Tsarek argued vehemently against striking Corvan, but slowly he began to understand. In the end, Tsarek refused to use the hammer and went to find a smooth rock.

    Corvan was starting to have second thoughts by the time Tsarek came back. ¡°I am ready, sir.¡±

    ¡°Make sure you hit me hard enough. I don¡¯t want to do this more than once.¡±

    The lizard¡¯s claws caressed Corvan¡¯s skin, making sure of the placement of the long, thin bone. Corvan closed his eyes and waited.

    There was a long pause. Corvan was just about to ask Tsarek what he was doing when an intense jolt of pain ripped through his body. In a haze, he heard Tsarek talking in his ear, begging him to push with his legs. The lizard was tugging at his torn shirt and pushing in on his broken collarbone.

    Corvan tried to yell at him to stop, that it hurt too much, but no words came out. He thrust with his feet and a ragged cry escaped his throat as his body slid free of the crack. He tumbled painfully down the rocky slope until he came to rest against a large boulder.

    Tsarek was beside him. ¡°Are you still alive?¡± he whispered.

    Corvan groaned.

    Tsarek put a paw over Corvan¡¯s mouth. ¡°I know you are in much pain, sir, but you must wait here quietly while I get your pack,¡± Tsarek whispered. ¡°There are buraks in the outer reaches of the Cor, and they feed on anything or anyone they can find. They have the most excellent hearing and with all our noise they will come to investigate.¡±

 Hammer 21

    Tsarek was only gone a moment before he was back and laying something heavy on Corvan¡¯s stomach. ¡°Here is your hammer and piece of your shirt. I have put out the light to hide you from the buraks while I am gone. Try to watch for them,¡± he said before scampering off.

    Watch? Corvan could see only the white orbs. If the man-eating creatures arrived while Tsarek was gone, he would be defenseless.

    A rock rolled down the slope, and Corvan¡¯s heart skipped a beat. He bit his lip and forced back a coughing fit. The boulder was still balanced overhead. He had to move out of the way, but when he tried to sit up, the searing pain from his broken collarbone forced him back down.

    Raising his good arm, he wrapped his hand around the smooth handle of the hammer. His mind cleared with a renewed sense of hope. The hammer could heal cuts; would its power fix a broken bone? He had to try.

    Drawing the injured arm over his stomach, he winced as bone grated against bone. Gingerly, he traced the path of the collarbone with his finger. Yes, there was the broken spot. The bones were back in alignment.

    As he stroked the handle along his shoulder, the pain eased. He lifted his arm, and the ugly sound of bone on bone washed over him in waves of pain. Tears welled up. The hammer could not heal him. He wiped his eyes until the handle was slick with his tears.

    ¡°Stop it,¡± he whispered. ¡°Crying will solve nothing. You must take care of your arm a different way.¡± Blinking away the tears, he focused on flow of the hammer¡¯s words in his hands. It had not fixed his arm, but it had healed his eyes. The white orbs were gone. He could see clearly again.

    A pebble rolled down the slope. Slowly turning his head, he saw Tsarek picking his way down, the bulky pack balanced on his back. Corvan waited for the lizard to join him.

    Tsarek stopped a foot away and leaned forward, listening intently.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Corvan asked.

    The lizard jumped straight up, and the weight of the pack dropped him onto his back against the slope. He looked like an upside-down turtle, legs and head churning in circles, trying to grab an advantage from the air. When he managed to get back to his feet he whispered, ¡°I could not see you in the dark, and with the pack on I could not smell you, so I did not know you were there.¡±

    ¡°But can¡¯t you see me now?¡±

    The lizard seemed to look right past him. ¡°Are you making one of your jokes?¡±

    Corvan looked down the cavern. Even without the fire stick on, he could still see, albeit in a murky sort of way. The tunnel¡¯s far end faded to blackness, but he could make out where it turned a corner. He squinted into the gloom. Something was moving slowly in the shadows down there.

    ¡°Tsarek, what does a burak look like?¡±

    ¡°They are hard to see. They take on the appearance of the rocks in which they live.¡±

    ¡°What do they do?¡±

    ¡°They guard the far reaches of the Cor. Sometimes settlement workers try to escape to the outer edges of the Cor. The buraks prevent them.¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°They are meat eaters, Kalian.¡±

    ¡°How big are they?¡±

    ¡°They are very large. They have poor sight, but they hear quite well.¡±

    Corvan swallowed. ¡°I think one is guarding the entrance into this cavern.¡±

    ¡°How do you know? With the fire stick out, I can¡¯t see anything.¡±

    ¡°I can see something down below,¡± Corvan whispered. ¡°The hammer healed my eyes.¡± He gripped the handle tightly. ¡°There¡¯s a large creature down at the far end.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Tsarek stepped toward the entrance and stood in silence. ¡°You are correct, sir,¡± he said softly. ¡°I can hear something, and there is a faint rotten smell of burak in the air. Can you see only one?¡±

    A strong odor rose from below, reminding Corvan of when his father butchered chickens. ¡°Yes. Just one moving back and forth.¡±

    ¡°It is waiting for its partner. They hunt in pairs. They have heard our noise and have come to satisfy their hunger.¡±

    ¡°Can we get past this one before the other one arrives?¡±

    ¡°We could try, but when they sense a wounded animal, they move very fast.¡± He stepped back to Corvan. ¡°Let¡¯s get a little closer and see if we can find a way around it.¡±

    Corvan bent forward and groaned. ¡°I can¡¯t carry the pack with my broken collarbone.¡±

    ¡°I could drag it for you, sir, but we need to move quickly and quietly if we are to escape.¡±

    A low, rumble grew into a grating shriek that echoed through the chamber.

    ¡°It¡¯s too late now,¡± Tsarek whispered. ¡°Its partner has arrived, and the hunt will soon begin. I think you must wait here and be very still while I draw them away.¡±

    ¡°But you can¡¯t see them,¡± Corvan said quietly.

    ¡°No, but I can smell them and hear them. You cannot move fast enough to get away, but if I can sneak past them, they will pursue me instead. They do not know there are two of us here and they will not let a sure meal run away.¡± Tsarek touched Corvan¡¯s leg. ¡°As soon as they are gone, get away as quickly as you can.¡±

    ¡°What if you get caught? I need you to guide me,¡± Corvan urged. ¡°I will wait for you here instead.¡±

    Tsarek shook his head. ¡°If you wait here, they will find you. You must leave and if I do catch up to you right away, just keep going down, always down. When you reach Kadir City, head for the large courtyard full of steps but do not go to the palace on the right side. You don¡¯t want to meet the chief of the watchers. You must go to the temple on the other side.¡±

    ¡°How do I know which one is the temple?¡± Corvan said. ¡°And who do I ask for?¡±

    ¡°The temple is the only dwelling in the entire city with a pointed roof.¡± Tsarek made his claws into a sharp point over his head. ¡°Ask for the High Priest or one of his children, Tyreth and Tarran. If you can¡¯t find them look for anyone in the green cloaks that only the priests wear. Never talk to the red cloaks; they are from the palace.

    A shriek shattered the air and Corvan grabbed Tsarek¡¯s paw. ¡°What if they catch you?¡±

    Tsarek pulled his paw free. ¡°It does not matter what happens to me. You must escape and save the Kate.¡± He touched Corvan¡¯s hand. ¡°I did not want to worry you, sir, but the Kate is not of the Cor.¡±

    Anxiety knotted Corvan¡¯s stomach. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    The lizard ducked his head. ¡°She can¡¯t live long under the light of the lumiens. If you do not find her soon, she will fall into a deep sleep.¡±

    ¡°And . . .?¡±

    ¡°She will never wake up. But if he finds her while she is still alive, her fate will be worse than death.¡±

    Corvan wanted to ask what could be worse than death, but a rumbling growl echoed off the walls. Tearing his gaze away from Tsarek, he peered down to the cavern floor below.

    Movement caught the corner of his eye. One burak stood high on the slope to his right. He looked back down. The other one must be hiding among the boulders on the floor.

    A small form darted between a gap in the boulders, and then Tsarek, crying out in pain, tumbled down into an open space on the floor.

    Corvan sat up straighter, and a deep grunt pulled his gaze to the right. The hunting burak was close enough that he could make out the bulbous eyes on its flat, angular head. It stared at the cavern floor; its head cocked to one side. A series of clicks came from its partner below, and its head bobbed up and down. A wide mouth opened to reveal twin rows of jagged teeth.

    The creature¡¯s throat bulged like a bullfrog¡¯s as it emitted a series of gulps and clicks. Corvan looked to the floor of the cavern. Tsarek was on his feet, moving slowly but dragging one leg.

    As Corvan watched in horror, a huge rock behind the lizard shifted slightly. It was not a rock. It was the other burak. Tsarek was heading directly into a trap.

    Corvan took a step forward. A pebble broke free under his foot. The burak to his right turned to face him, its flat face swinging from side to side.

    Corvan froze. If he moved, the burak would know he was there, but if he didn¡¯t, Tsarek would die. The beast stared sightlessly into the dark until a cry from the cavern below grabbed its attention.

    Tsarek was dragging an injured leg behind him as he floundered about on the rocky floor. He stopped and held both paws over his mouth as if trying not to cry out in pain. Turning his head in Corvan¡¯s direction he raised his claws over his head, touching them together.

    A dark shape loomed up behind him. For a fleeting second Corvan saw the outline of the lizard, and then he was gone.

    A moment passed in eerie silence. Then a slow, rhythmic throbbing sounded out. The large shadow on the floor rose on its hind legs and danced in a slow circle, pounding its feet on the ground.

    The burak on the slope rumbled a response and slid through the gravel toward the floor, responding to its partner with loud grating shrieks. The dancing creature below turned toward Corvan.

    From its clenched jaws hung Tsarek¡¯s lifeless body.

 Hammer 22

    Corvan cowered behind a boulder as the buraks left the cavern, one still celebrating the successful hunt with loud shrieks.

    Corvan slumped against the broad rock, the pain in his shoulder overwhelmed by an intense ache in his heart. In the few short days he had known Tsarek, they had become more than just traveling companions. A soft sob shook his body, sending fresh pain across his chest. Tsarek had been his only connection to the grandfather he had never known and he could¡¯nt believe his friend was gone. How could he possibly go on to rescue Kate without Tsarek¡¯s help?

    As the burak¡¯s sounds faded away, the enormity of his situation sank in. He was far below the surface of the earth. No one knew where he had gone, so no one would come looking for him. Ever. He couldn''t go back through the labyrinth. He needed to go after Kate, but how would he find her? For the first time in his life, Corvan was truly on his own.

    Tsarek''s final words filled him with dread. Kate didn''t have long to live. If he was to save her, he had to set aside his fears and keep moving deeper into the Cor. His only hope was to locate the pointed roof of the temple.

    That must have been what Tsarek meant when he pointed his arms over his head. Tsarek knew he was about to be captured and was giving Corvan one last instruction. No, two, for the paws over the mouth had been telling Corvan to stay quiet, so he could escape the buraks. Tsarek had sacrificed his life to save him.

    A biting cold penetrated his sweat-drenched clothes. If he didn''t get dry ones on and start moving, hypothermia was sure set in. Trying not to move his injured shoulder, he managed to drag his pack closer with his slippered feet. At least they were warm. His cloak, however, was still back in the tight crawlspace.

    He found the leather thongs that had tied the top of the pack cut in two. Why would Tsarek have done that? Pulling the cover open, he discovered that Tsarek had retrieved the cloak and stuffed it back into the pack. Slipping the cloak over his shoulders, he carefully lifted the hood into position. It was wonderful to be warm again.

    It took a bit fashion a crude sling for his arm with only one hand, but once it was in place, the pain began to subside. Pulling himself up against the boulder, he noticed faint patches of purple light appearing around the cavern. Tsarek must have been right; they had found a way past the labyrinth.

    Dragging the heavy pack down the slope, he entered the clearing where Tsarek had been captured. He needed to lighten his load, or he wouldn''t get much farther. He managed to lift the pack onto a flat stone with his good arm. As he pulled the rest of his clothes from the pack, the scent of wood smoke and beef jerky wafted out. His stomach growled. In this timeless world, there was no way of knowing when he¡¯d last eaten.

    The soggy labels had fallen off the tins, but it didn¡¯t matter¡ªhe had left the can opener at home. If only Kate hadn¡¯t taken Tsarek''s Swiss Army knife. He picked up a familiar rectangular tin. A can of Spam, the kind with an attached key to open it. He flipped it over¡ªthe key had broken off.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Why was everything going wrong? Anger welled up, and he hurled the can away. Pain shot through his chest as the can bounced off a rock, cracked, and landed in the dirt at his feet, neatly split open along the seam.

    Sitting on a rock, he held the tin firmly between his knees and peeled the top back with his good hand. Cold, gritty Spam¡ªhe¡¯d never tasted anything so good.

    Even with the tins out, the pack was still too heavy to carry with just one arm. Reluctantly, he pulled out Tsarek''s crystal and set it on the ground between his legs. There would be no more music from Tsarek. His tears fell on the tapered crystal, skidding down its length and leaving phosphorescent trails behind.

    As he reached out to the crystal, a tiny spark leaped out to meet his hand along with a sound like miniature wind chimes in a summer breeze. Placing a hand on the crystal, an overwhelming weariness settled over him. He closed his eyes. "Please help me find a way out of here," he whispered. "I want to go home."

    In his mind, he was suddenly surrounded by a dense fog. Two figures emerged from the mist. His mother and father. He called out, but they didn¡¯t hear. Following them through the murky air, he found himself climbing the Castle Rock. His parents passed through the western gap and the fog parted to reveal a figure sitting on a black throne.

    It was Kate, draped in a blood red cape and a sparkling ring of gems on her head. Thick black bands encircled both of her wrists.

    Corvan''s parents knelt before her, begging her to open the door, so their son could come home. Kate raised her hands and pointed to his home. Lightning arced from the bands, and his house dissolved into a pool of molten stone that set the fields alight. The fire roared away to incinerate every house in town in its path. The flames swirled back around his parents. They cried out in pain, and then they too were gone.

    "No-o-o-o!" The cavern walls echoed with his cry as he forced his eyes open. How could Kate become an evil queen capable of destroying the entire world? Is this what would happen if he failed to rescue her?

    A rumbling crash interrupted his thoughts as the rock face where he and Tsarek had entered collapsed onto the slope. The rocks gained momentum, smashing against each other, and sending tremendous shudders through the ground as the slide roared downward, then ground to a halt. He needed to get out of there, and quickly. The avalanche would surely bring the buraks back. A dense cloud of rock dust rolled in around him as if the cave were trying to bury him alive.

    The fine dust filled his lungs and he pulled the hood across his face to breathe through its fabric. Keeping his head low he waited for the dust to clear.

    It was difficult to see through the murky air. He pulled the hammer out. The circles from the hammer''s handle were clearly reflected in a tiny round pool at the base of Tsarek''s crystal.

    His tears had flowed down the crystal and collected in a small depression at its base. Touching the shiny surface, he found it as solid as the crystal itself. When he pressed on the edge, a thin circle¡ªlike the small round mirror, his mother kept in her purse¡ªpopped out.

    Sitting back, he traced his finger across the surface. The glass rippled, turning dark blue with small points of light, like a starry sky.

    Hope. He felt it grow in his heart as he gazed at the tiny stars. He had made it this far. He was past the Cor shield, and now if he could find Kate, they could find a way out and see the stars together yet again.

    After slipping the glass into his pocket, Corvan picked up the pack by one of its severed straps and headed toward the exit where the buraks had gone.

 Hammer 23

    With the labyrinth behind him, the journey through the passages was easier than Corvan expected. Just as Tsarek said, he only needed to keep moving down, always down, ignoring any tunnels that branched off or climbed upward. At first, he slowly picked his way through large stone formations, but after a time he noticed tracks in the dust made by animals he could not identify. The tracks eventually became a path that wound through caverns and tunnels that headed downward.

    He walked as far as he could while there was a faint light from occasional patches of purple moss. Whatever the hammer had done to heal his eyes had also sharpened his night vision making it relatively easy to navigate. When the moss faded, he would try to rest. The hammer¡¯s insignia still emitted some lights, but it too was fading. He decided it was best to leave in in the holster in case he really needed it later on.

    Lying on the stone floor would have been unbearable except for the warmth of his grandfather¡¯s cloak. He often thought of his grandfather and wondered what he planned to tell him about this underground world. What exactly was a Cor-Van? And why was Tsarek so afraid of having anyone hear his name with a pause in the middle?

    His mind was so full of thoughts and worries that it was almost impossible to rest. He lay in the darkness, listening to the sounds of dripping water and the pattering¡ªeither be small animals or incredibly large insects. He hoped they weren¡¯t spiders. He hated spiders.

    His father was right about not seeing the moon and stars. Without their light, the darkness was overwhelming, crushing Corvan with its vacant weight.

    When he rested, he gnawed on a piece of the beef jerky and allowed himself a few chocolate chips. He was continually hungry, but at least there was a steady supply of water. It dripped from the roof and pooled in small depressions that ran in small streams alongside the path.

    The vision from Tsarek¡¯s crystal often haunted him. He couldn¡¯t escape the image of Kate murdering his parents. Was it possible for someone to change that much? Kate sometimes got very mad, but how could that grow into wanting to kill everyone around her? Was the vision warning him that she would soon meet Tsarek¡¯s master and become just as evil?

    His only comfort during the dark times was the ice disk from the base of Tsarek¡¯s crystal. The patterns in the tiny pinpoints of light reminded him of the constellations he¡¯d studied while lying on the rock on warm summer nights. It seemed he could make out Orion and the Big Dipper in the sparkling dots. At his last resting place, he had noticed a brighter glow over the handle of the Big Dipper. Now that glow had become a tiny full moon that was making its way along the edge of the glass.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    He puzzled over this for a while before it finally came to him. Tsarek¡¯s crystal had shown him the future¡ªat least a possible future. In a similar way, the round crystal must reflect what was on his mind in the present or possibly even what was really happening now. It showed the stars because he was thinking of a starry sky. Maybe it could also reveal his home.

    Cupping it in his palm, he concentrated and imagined walking up to the gap in the rock facing his house. The stars in the ice glass spun, and the outline of his home came into view. A tiny yellow square flickered, and his mother appeared in his bedroom window. He focused on her. The window rushed closer in the glass until he could see her face. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she was singing. Her hand rose toward him as if she knew he was watching.

    ¡°I¡¯m here, Mom,¡± Corvan said. A tear slipped down his cheek and splashed on the glass.

    His mother stopped singing and stared out the window. A puzzled smile flickered across her face. She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, then turned away from the window. The light went out.

    Lonely isolation welled up inside him. He was trapped deep inside the Earth, far away from his home. Even if he could find the temple building that Tsarek had mentioned, how could he ever find Kate in time?

    Kate. Would the glass reveal her whereabouts?

    He turned his thoughts to her, and memories flooded back. Days of building forts, riding bikes and hiking through the coulees. He smiled. Kate had always been his best friend, at least in the world above. Down here, he wasn¡¯t sure he knew who she was anymore. Pushing that thought aside, he concentrated on the Kate he once knew.

    A fond memory stole into his heart. He and Kate were lying on the rock, watching for falling stars. A coyote barked in the field, Kate jumped and reached for his hand. It barked again, and then all was silent. They lay there a long time, hand in hand, looking up at the stars, until his mother called him in. Neither of them had ever talked about it.

    As he thought about this memory, the glass grew warm and caught a glimpse of Kate¡¯s face in the darkness. Tears were trickling down her cheeks.

    ¡°Hang on, Kate, I¡¯m coming for you.¡±

    The image of her in the mirror looked at him in shock, then called his name so clearly that he almost dropped the glass. He tried refocusing his thoughts on Kate, but now the glass remained black. After putting the glass away, Corvan lay back and pulled the cape over him. A sharp rock poked into his ribs, reminding him that he was not asleep. He wondered if it were possible for things to get any worse than this. His father used to say, ¡°Cheer up, Son, the worst is yet to come.¡± His dad wanted him to be thankful for what he had in the present instead of focusing on what could go wrong in the future.

    Lying on the rocky floor, with the rhythmic drip of water falling around him in the darkness, Corvan tried to come up with something good. The only thing that came to mind was that his collarbone had healed rapidly, and he didn¡¯t need the sling anymore. It didn¡¯t hurt at all to move his shoulder. It seemed the hammer healed bones after all; it just took a bit longer.

    With a heavy sigh, he sat up. It was no use. He might as well walk a little farther. Pulling his pack onto his shoulder, he unclipped the hammer and followed its feeble glow around a corner to where another cavern joined the main trail. He pointed his light up the steep slope.

    A pair of running shoes stuck out from behind a rock.

 Hammer 24

    Corvan ran up the passage, but Kate was nowhere to be seen.

    The toes of the scarecrow¡¯s shoes had separated from the soles, and they gaped at him as if they had something important to say. Just behind the runners was an empty bread bag. He picked it up, and the aroma of oatmeal cookies wafted out, along with a trace of lilac perfume.

    He looked intently down the passage. Kate must have just been here. It was her voice calling to him when he saw her in the glass.

    ¡°Kate!¡± he shouted, but the only answer was his echo reverberating from the tunnel leading down. Covering up the hammer¡¯s glow, he stared into the darkness. The rocks along the right side of the passage were reflecting a glow from around the next corner. His first thought was Kate¡¯s flashlight, but the light was a cold, blue color.

    Corvan holstered the hammer and crept along the tunnel''s side, keeping the larger boulders between himself and the growing light. Feeling his way along the inside wall, he slowly edged past the corner and approached a lighted gap between two columns of rock. He snuck up behind the right pillar and peered around it. A short distance ahead, a shaft of pale blue light was streaming into the tunnel. Moonlight! He had found another way back to the surface. He had escaped the labyrinth into the buraks cave and emerged at the bottom of the river valley.

    Corvan¡¯s heart soared as he sprinted down the path toward the light. Kate was out as well, which meant they were both safe.

    Through the opening, he caught sight of a full moon and a few bright stars. He blinked, wondering what the fire stick or the hammer had done to his eyes. The moon appeared completely blue, and the stars in the sky pierced the black night with a pinkish light.

    His pace slowed as he approached the exit. His feet dragged on the sandy floor. This was not an entrance to a natural river-bottom cave. Just ahead, a uniform arch had been cut into a rock wall. A thick stone door, supported by heavy hinges, hung ajar.

    His eyes fixed beyond the opening, Corvan tripped on the threshold, caught himself on the door, and pushed it wider. A wave of despair crashed over Corvan as he noticed two rows of strange script from his grandfather¡¯s book carved across the middle of the door. The vast cave in front of him was more of Tsarek¡¯s Cor. He would have to pass through yet another door and follow Kate deeper into the darkness ahead.

    He was about to move on when angry voices echoed from the darkness¡ªtwo men arguing over who had last checked the door. Ducking behind the thick slab, Corvan wedged his body against the wall. His pack caught on the curved ceiling, crowding his head forward and pushing his face beneath the upper hinge. He peered directly through wide crack. It would be easy for anyone who came close to spot him hiding in the shadows.

    A short, wiry man entered his field of vision, his face hidden in the hood of a green cloak. Clutched in the man¡¯s hand was a shoulder-high staff. At its top a carved globe with a dark center. He stopped before the door, shaking his head in amazement. ¡°You¡¯re right. The door is open.¡±

    An even shorter, stocky man appeared, and a deep voice responded from the depths of his red hood. ¡°I can see that Tarran, but why is it open? The priests hold the only key, and you are the only priest I know who bothers to come up here.¡± He folded his arms over his chest.

    Tarran threw back his hood revealing the sharp features of a young man with thick black hair and keen gray eyes. ¡°What are you insinuating, Harmon?¡±

    The heavyset man didn¡¯t reply.

    Corvan held his breath as Tarran turned away and examined the far side of the door. The person he was to meet was just a foot away, but so was the palace guard Tsarek had warned him about.

    Pulling a notched cylinder on a red cord from around his neck, Tarran twisted it into a hole next to the door frame. Three sturdy bolts clicked out from the doorjamb. When he removed the key, the bolts sank back into the rock.

    The green cloak swished as Tarran crossed over to inspect the hinge side of the door.

    Corvan twisted away to hide his face. His hand touched the hammer and its blue symbols glowed from the bottom of the holster. He yanked his hand away, and the light faded. He looked up into Tarran¡¯s wide eyes.

    ¡°Find something?¡± Harmon asked.

    ¡°Just checking the hinges,¡± Tarran said without breaking eye contact with Corvan. ¡°The door was not forced open.¡± He gestured with his left hand off to the side. ¡°I have seen all I need to see here. Let¡¯s head back down. You can file a report tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Too late for that,¡± Harmon sneered. ¡°I already reported it to the Chief Watcher.¡±

    Tarran¡¯s eyes widened, and he whirled about to face the stocky man. ¡°You did what?¡±

    Harmon pointed into the void behind him. ¡°The Chief Watcher is to be informed any time this door is opened. Since it could only be a priest who opened it, I suspected that you wouldn¡¯t tell him and put your friends or your family in jeopardy.¡±

    Tarran pounded his staff on the ground, and the globe was filled with red light. ¡°You¡¯re a fool, Harmon. You know little of what is happening. All you care about is trying to advance your career.¡±

    ¡°What else is there?¡± Harmon snorted. ¡°With the bad blood between the Watchers, the priests, and the rebels, this is the perfect time to get on the good side of those who have the most power.¡±

    Tarran pointed the staff at him. ¡°Power is not a toy. Play with power¡ªpay the powerful.¡±

    Harmon shrugged. ¡°You priests and your proverbs. The way you talk, you¡¯d think you were part of the rebels and not for our own city. Don¡¯t think for a moment that the Palace doesn¡¯t know what you and your father are planning.¡±

    Tarran stared at the stocky man. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°I know that Morgan uncovered a plot to overthrow the Palace, and I know that the sources all point to the High Priest.¡± Harmon turned his back on Tarran and swaggered away.

    Tarran gripped his staff in both hands and took a step toward him.

    Harmon whirled around and looked down the narrow path beyond the door. ¡°He¡¯s here,¡± he whispered in a hoarse voice.

    Tarran joined him, and both men stood frozen at attention. Tarran fumbled with the staff, and its light faded away.

    In the thick silence, Corvan caught a series of rhythmic chirps that sounded like a quartet of wounded crickets limping in his direction. The soft slap of bare feet on rock soon overpowered the eerie sound, and four incredibly thin men appeared on the path. A palanquin tent with red curtains was slung below poles on their shoulders.

    The men¡¯s bare arms seemed too long and slender to be human. Blue veins pulsed under transparent, glistening skin, and it reminded Corvan of pictures he¡¯d seen of cave salamanders that lived all their lives in total darkness. Deep red robes accentuated their milky white faces.

    The tallest one, at the front of the poles, turned toward Corvan. Its translucent eyelids were twitching over its seemingly closed eyes. Thin white lips pursed, and a blue tongue worked to produce high-pitched chirps as its head scanned from side to side. The manlike creatures must navigate like bats and find their way using only echoes.

    Corvan held his breath, hoping the crack would shield him.

    The palanquin¡¯s embroidered red curtains parted, and a dark body oozed to the ground. Corvan stifled a gasp. It was a lizard like Tsarek, but much larger¡ªalmost Corvan¡¯s own height. Its head bobbed as a thin tongue whipped in and out, tasting the air that flowed from the cavern¡¯s open door. Powerful biceps strained against twisted silver bracers wrapped around each arm. It moved with measured steps into the doorway. The muscles in its thick legs were bulging and rippling under its scaly black skin, and then it passed from Corvan¡¯s line of sight.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    It spoke, and Corvan¡¯s blood ran cold. The voice was high and thin. It pierced through the stone door between them. He did not catch what it said, but Tarran responded affirmatively.

    Harmon muttered something, but a command from the lizard silenced him.

    Corvan held his breath and heard the hiss of cold breath as the lizard¡¯s snout poked out over the threshold with its nostrils flaring to pull in the scents around it. If it came any closer, it was sure to smell him.

    Tarran coughed.

    The black creature turned toward him.

    ¡°Most honorable Chief Watcher,¡± Tarran said, ¡°I checked this door personally, and all the seals were intact. I do not know¡ª¡±

    Harmon pushed Tarran aside. ¡°I¡¯m the one who found the door open. I¡¯ve been keeping an eye on the priests for you, just as you ordered me. I¡¯m the one who deserves a reward for¡ª¡±

    A blur shot past the crack, and the black lizard stood over Harmon¡¯s still body. He held his right paw to the dim light, and Corvan could see it was badly deformed. There was only one long curved claw on a small, twisted stump. The lizard¡¯s tongue shot out to taste the blood dripping down the long claw. The black face wrinkled in distaste, and he stepped off the body and wiped his claw on the dead man¡¯s cloak. The lizard gave the body a contemptuous kick, then twisted its sinuous neck to leer at Tarran.

    ¡°Some people don¡¯t know when to be quiet, do they? I do not trust those who cannot keep their lips shut.¡± The creature moved in closer to Tarran. ¡°I also don¡¯t trust a priest who cannot keep his door shut. It smells of treason. Perhaps trying to start a rumor that the Cor-Van has come to overthrow the palace?¡±

    Tarran pointed to the keyhole. ¡°The priest¡¯s key was not used. The door must have been opened from the other side by the Portal Watcher.¡±

    The black body flickered toward Tarran, words spitting past the forked tongue. ¡°If the Portal Watcher had been called, he would have told me. I am the Chief Watcher of the Cor.¡±

    The lizard circled the man. ¡°Do not think I am unaware of why the High Priest assigned you to represent the temple in my palace guard. He tried the same tactic with Morgan and failed. Morgan was at least smart enough to know when to switch sides. It was not a good outcome for your sister, would you not agree?¡±

    Tarran stiffened but did not answer. The black form turned back to the door. ¡°Someone opened this door without informing me.¡± The lizard extended a claw toward Tarran. ¡°So, I will take the key.¡±

    Tarran took a step back. ¡°The key is the responsibility of the priests, not the palace.¡±

    ¡°Yessss.¡± The lizard¡¯s tongue darted in and out. ¡°But only as the guardians of the entry. Now the door has been opened without the palace being informed; therefore, your position as keeper of the key is forfeit to me.¡±

    Tarran gripped the staff in both hands and held it up like a great sword. The four pale men holding the palanquin dropped the canopied box to the ground and spread out behind the lizard. Tightly coiled krypin ropes appeared in their hands.

    The Chief Watcher extended his long claw and touched the end of the staff. ¡°Do not resist me, Tarran.¡± The lizard flicked the staff aside, then he turned his back on the man and walked toward the doorway. ¡°You cannot win.¡±

    Tarran stepped toward the four white creatures, who tensed in anticipation.

    ¡°You would be wise to consider joining me, as Morgan has done,¡± the lizard said without turning around. ¡°The priesthood is dying. My new religion is poised to take over. If you join with me, I will make you my captain instead of Morgan.¡±

    Tarran¡¯s staff sagged, and the tip hit the ground.

    The lizard held out his claw again. This time Tarran reached into his cowl and pulled out the cord and the notched cylinder. The Chief Watcher took it and looped it around his own neck.

    ¡°A wise choice. You are a perceptive young man. One who could play an important role in restoring the Cor to its former glory.¡±

    The tallest of the men with unseeing eyes approached and bent down to speak in the lizard¡¯s ear. His long fingers were brushing the ground.

    The lizard nodded. A tight smile parted his lips. ¡°A company of my men is on their way, Tarran. You have until tomorrow to give me your answer. Think it over carefully,¡± it hissed. ¡°Your sister¡¯s life depends on it.¡±

    The lizard slipped through the curtains into the palanquin. His voice cracked out a command, and the four men picked up the cabin and disappeared to the right. Their strange chirps soon faded into the distance.

    As Tarran watched the entourage leave, Corvan pushed away from the hinges. He had to get some answers from the man who had just saved him from the black lizard. Twisting around, he shoved on the heavy slab to get out from behind the door.

    An earsplitting screech filled the tunnel.

    Corvan looked up just in time to see a burak bounding toward Tarran in long loping strides. Its broad shoulder slammed into the door, knocking Corvan flat against the wall and throwing him onto the ground against the bottom hinge.

    Tarran cried out and through the crack Corvan saw the huge animal toss the man in the air and catch him in its jaws like a cat playing with a mouse. Tarran¡¯s body flew in a wild arc and landed in a crumpled heap near Corvan.

    Terror-filled eyes looked up through the crack. ¡°Help me,¡± he croaked.

    Corvan pushed his legs against the door, but the creature¡¯s weight held the stone slab tight against the wall. He wasn¡¯t strong enough.

    Twisting on his side, he pulled the hammer free. Its blue light shot through the crack.

    The beast looked into the light, its eyes focused on Corvan, and then its sour breath blasted into his face with a deafening roar. The hinges creaked as the burak forced its snout into the crack. Its shrieks ripped at Corvan¡¯s eardrums. Dropping the hammer, he clenched both hands over his ears. The door banged again, and the horrible shrieks stopped.

    Tarran¡¯s bloody face was just beyond the crack.

    ¡°Help me, Cor-Van,¡± Tarran gasped before his pitiful face was dragged away.

    The great door boomed as the beast hammered into it. The stone slab bounced away from the wall, revealing the burak retreating up the slope with Tarran¡¯s broken body dragging alongside it in the dirt.

    Corvan fell to his knees and dropped his head into his hands. His stomach rolled, and he retched. The man who had saved him from being discovered by the black lizard had died because he was too afraid and too weak to help him.

    The muted shriek of the burak jerked Corvan¡¯s head up. Tsarek had said they always hunted in pairs, but he had not heard the second one during the attack. He held his breath and listened intently. The cavern was quiet, and nothing moved up the pathway.

    Feeling around the floor, he found the hammer lying in a pile of sand next to the wall. The handle was cold, and the light from the symbols was gone. He stuffed it back into the holster. He¡¯d rather not even have it around to remind him of his failure.

    Getting slowly to his feet, he found that the great stone door was jammed against Tarran¡¯s staff. Pulling the door back, he picked it up and tapped it on the floor to knock the dirt from the globe at the top. Red light shot out and threw a kaleidoscope of shadowed patterns around the tunnel¡ªmore of the same sort of words from the hammer and the door.

    A flurry of movement up the pathway caught Corvan¡¯s eye. The other burak had arrived! Leaping over the threshold, Corvan swirled about and yanked the door shut. Three sharp clicks were followed by muffled blows on the other side of the door. Corvan slumped down against it and leaned his head against the cold stone.

    High above him, the blue moon shone brightly, but now he could see it was a lumien much larger than the one in Tsarek¡¯s cave. Smaller ones were scattered around it, the pink ¡°stars¡± he¡¯d seen earlier.

    As the blows against the door faded, Corvan realized he had just locked his only exit out of this violent underground world, and the black lizard had the only key.

    Pushing to his feet, he was drawn forward by the sheer size of this new cavern. It was hard to judge distance in the dim light, but it had to be miles to the other side, where there was a brown haze over what appeared to be jagged mountains. He stepped forward for a better look, and his foot slipped. He recovered to find himself on the edge of a precipice that ended in a steep slope hundreds of feet below.

    Off to his right, at the bottom of a trail that wound down to the base of the cliff, he caught sight of the tiny figures of the pale men carrying the lizard over a narrow bridge. Beyond the ribbon of dark water was the strangest city he had ever seen. It was laid out in concentric circles from a central plaza. Each circle joined the next at periodic intervals to make the streets look like an immense spider¡¯s web.

    A few more significant buildings were grouped near the center of the city, but nowhere could he see a building with a pointy roof. He scanned both sides of the widest street that ran toward the far wall. The left side of the city was in ruins, but the right side looked relatively undamaged. An irregular thick wall ran between them.

    The lizard¡¯s pale servants arrived in the central plaza, turned right, and proceeded through a gate in the dividing wall. They marched up a wide street through banks of fog that flowed down from a wide gate.

    Corvan looked ahead of the tiny travelers, and his eyes widened in amazement. A stone figure rose above the larger buildings. Corvan inched closer to the edge of the cliff, and his eyes wandered over the colossally broad chest. It was a temple of some kind, like the ones for King Ramses and the other pharaohs in Egypt. On top of the broad shoulders sat a rough stone block. The face of the statue was not yet finished.

    Corvan¡¯s gaze swept over a powerful stone bicep overlaid with writhing snakelike creatures. The arm lay on one of the wide armrests of the throne, and its hand gripped a tall staff like the one Corvan now held.

    Below the statue, around the large stone feet, figures crawled like ants on a circular stone wall. Great stone blocks were being moved into position with cranes and rollers. Hundreds of firesticks burned around the construction site. They cast their hazy heat waves into the air around the statue and made it look almost alive, like it might leave its throne and crush the buildings at its feet.

    Corvan peered into the shadows off to the left of the statue. Was that a pointy roof?

    A shove from behind pitched him over the edge.

    Before Corvan could scream, two powerful hands gripped his shoulders and held him dangling in thin air.