47 - Legend of the Lost Legend (9 page)

Marissa and I hadn’t traveled far from the little cabin. A few minutes later,
it came into view. Luka hurried out, his face twisted in surprise.

“I didn’t expect to see you back here,” he said, shaking out his long, dark
hair. “Did you get lost?”

“No. Not exactly,” Marissa replied.

“This is our dad,” I told Luka. “We finally found him.”

Dad and Luka shook hands.

“Well, why did you come back here?” Luka demanded. He lowered his gaze to the
silver chest in Dad’s hands. “I gave you what you came here for.”

“Not exactly,” Dad replied. “It’s an egg.”

“Yes, I know,” Luka said, scratching his jaw.

“But we didn’t come here for an egg!” I protested.

Luka narrowed his eyes at us. “You didn’t come to the forest in search of the
Eternal Egg of Truth?”

“No way,” I replied. “Dad brought us here to find the Legend of the Lost
Legend.”

“Oops!” Luka blushed. “I made a little goof.” He looked very upset.

“That’s okay,” Dad said softly. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

Luka shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I usually get it right. I really thought
you were searching for the Eternal Egg of Truth.”

Still shaking his head, he took the silver chest from Dad’s hands. He carried
it into the cabin. A few seconds later, he returned. “A thousand apologies,” he
said.

“But can you help us find the Lost Legend?” I demanded. “Do you have it?”

“Do I have it?” The question seemed to surprise Luka. “No. I don’t have it. I
think it will be very hard to get it.”

“Why?” Dad asked eagerly. “Do you know where it is?”

Luka nodded. “Yes. I can direct you to the people who have the Lost Legend.
But I do not think they will part with it. They have been wandering the forest
with it for five hundred years. I do not think they will want to give it to you—for any price.”

“I—I just want to talk with them!” Dad cried excitedly. “I just want to
see
it with my own eyes!”

“Go in this direction,” Luka instructed us, pointing. “Cross two streams, and
you will probably find them on a wide, stone clearing. They wander the forest.
They never stay in the same place for long. But I think you will find them in
the stone clearing if you hurry.”

“Thank you!” Dad cried, shaking Luka’s hand.

We all thanked Luka. Then we hurried off in the direction he had pointed. We
were so excited, all three of us talked at the same time.

“Do you think they’ll be friendly?”

“Do you think they’ll let us see the Lost Legend?”

“Do you think they’ll let me borrow it?” Dad asked. “If I could only borrow
it for a few weeks….”

“Luka said they might not be friendly.”

“He said they might not part with it—for any price.”

The journey across the two streams was not difficult. We walked for only an
hour.

We were still talking excitedly as we drew near their camp. We stopped on a
low hill overlooking a wide patch of stony ground.

The stone clearing.

We could see rows of small tents made of animal hides. Several people,
dressed in brown robes, worked to build a fire in the center of the clearing. A
bunch of scrawny gray dogs wrestled and snapped at each other at the edge of the
clearing.

“I can’t believe it,” Dad exclaimed, his eyes searching the small tent
village. “I can’t believe these wanderers actually
have
the Lost Legend.”

“But will they let us
see
it?” I asked.

“Only one way to find out,” Dad replied. He led the way down the hill.
“Hello, there!” he called out to the wanderers. “Hello!”

“Hello, there! Hello!”

As we stepped onto the stone ground, the scrawny gray dogs stopped wrestling.
Barking furiously, they came scurrying up to greet us. They lowered their heads,
bared their jagged teeth, and growled.

Marissa, Dad, and I stopped. I saw three men in brown robes come running out
of tents. They quickly shooed the dogs away. The men, I saw, were as scrawny as
the dogs.

“Hello,” Dad greeted them warmly. “I am Professor Richard Clarke, and this is
Justin and Marissa.”

The three men nodded solemnly. But they did not speak.

Two of them were bald. One had long, wavy white hair and a bushy white
mustache.

Marissa and I exchanged glances.

I could see that she was as frightened as I was.

These brown-robed wanderers did
not
look friendly.

The white-haired man spoke first. “How did you find us?” he demanded coldly.

“Someone directed us to you,” Dad replied.

“Why have you come here, Professor Clarke?” the wanderer asked.

“We’re searching for the Legend of the Lost Legend,” Dad told him.

The three men all gasped in shock. They leaned close and whispered furiously
to each other.

When they finished their excited conversation, they turned back to us. But
they didn’t speak.

“Do you have it?” Dad asked eagerly. “Do you have the Lost Legend?”

“Yes,” the white-haired man replied. “Yes, we have it.”

He whispered something to the two bald men. They spun around, their long
robes twirling with them, and hurried away.

A few seconds later, they returned. One of them carried a small silver chest.

“Oh, my goodness!” Dad declared, his eyes bulging. “Is that it? Is that
really it? Is that the Lost Legend?”

“Yes,” the white-haired man replied. “Do you want it?”

“Huh?” all three of us cried.

The wanderer shoved the chest into my hands. I was so shocked, I nearly
dropped it!

“It is yours,” the white-haired man said. He stepped back.

Dad swallowed hard. “Are you
sure
?” he cried. “Are you sure you want
to give it to us?”

“Yes. Take it,” the man replied quickly. “Goodbye.”

He and the other two turned and walked quickly back to their tents. To our
surprise, they instantly began to pack up.

Dozens of wanderers began pulling up tents, packing up supplies, putting out
the campfire. In minutes, they had scurried away.

The stone clearing stood bare. No sign they had ever been there.

“How strange,” Dad said. “How totally strange.”

We began to walk away from the clearing. I think all three of us were in
shock or something. I know I was completely stunned.

“They handed the treasure over to us without a word,” Dad said, rubbing his
beard. “Why did they
do
that? Why did they give this treasure to us
without asking for anything in return? I just can’t believe it.”

I still had the chest in my arms. After we had walked for a short while, I
stopped. “Where are we going?” I demanded. “Let’s open the chest. Let’s take a
look at it!”

“Yes!” Dad agreed. “I am so surprised—so stunned—I guess I don’t know
what I’m doing!”

He took the chest from me and carefully set it down on the ground. “Let’s see
it. Let’s finally see it!”

Carefully, he unlatched the lid and opened the chest. Then he reached inside—and pulled out a manuscript. A thick stack of yellowed paper with tiny black
writing all over it.

“Yes!” Dad whispered happily. “Yes!”

He gripped the ancient legend tightly in both hands and held it down so that
Marissa and I could see it.

“Wow!” Marissa cried. “It really looks five hundred years old—doesn’t it?”

“Dad, what does it say on the top page?” I asked, struggling to make out the
words.

“Uh… let’s see,” Dad replied. He raised the manuscript close to his
face, squinted hard at the tiny words, and then read them out loud:

“WHOEVER OWNS THE LOST LEGEND WILL BE LOST FOREVER.”

“Huh? What does
that
mean?” I cried.

Dad shrugged. “It doesn’t really mean anything. It’s just part of the
legend.”

“Are you sure?” Marissa demanded in a trembling voice.

Dad stared down at the manuscript. “‘Lost forever…’” he murmured.
“‘Whoever owns the Lost Legend will be lost forever.’”

Then he raised his eyes to the trees that surrounded us. “Hey—where are
we?”

All three of us gazed around at the strange, dark trees.

We had wandered away from the stone clearing. Now nothing looked familiar.

“Where are we?” Dad repeated.

“We-we’re lost,” I whispered.

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