Jack James and the Tribe of the Teddy Bear (24 page)

He shifted in his chair. Maybe it wasn’t so comfortable, after all.

“That thing?” Liz pointed. “You know what it does? Because if you do, I’d love to hear it. It’s torn our family apart.”

“Oh, I know what it does. Yes, what it does is miraculous for sure. But that’s not the most amazing part.”

“What’s the most amazing part?” Amelia asked.

“What it
is
.”

“It’s a little machine with lights inside,” Liz frowned. “What’s so special about it?”

“Liz, you’ve got to understand something. That device. It’s a machine, yes. It’s a machine in the same way the human body is a machine, or in the same way the earth is a machine, or the cosmos for that matter.”

“What are you saying?” Liz demanded.

“I’m saying your husband’s invention, the O/A, is both a machine and a living being. It’s a creature that straddles the line between what is imaginary and what we consider reality. It’s much the same as a fairy, or a pixie.”

“A fairy?” Amelia blurted. “It’s a fairy?”

“Not a fairy. More a genie. But not a genie, either. It’s an imagination machine, and it’s truly something humankind hasn’t seen in a long time.”

“I’ve heard of these things,” Takota said. “I remember hearing stories about the Eteea machines.”

“We all have,” responded Cheyton. “The Lost Tribes have a festival dedicated to them.”

“Ooo! Yeah. I love that festival,” Pud sighed. “I miss the games. And the food.”

“Hold on,” Jack struggled. “You said it was like a genie. What do you mean? It grants wishes?”

“Huh,” Liz huffed. “A genie, right.”

“I know you think I’m a silly old woman with bizarre beliefs…”

“No,” Enola interrupted. “Your beliefs aren’t bizarre. We know the stories of the machines, and of the True Soul. It’s just so hard to believe Eteea would choose us. Why us?”

Teresa waved her hand. “I told you, each of you is special, whether you know it or not.”

Jack’s spine tingled. “Listen, everybody. I think she may be right. Amelia, you feel it, don’t you? You’re the one who told me. You said my life would be defined by historic events. Well, helping to save the universe from evil sure qualifies.”

“Yeah,” she dropped her stare.

“Don’t be afraid, child,” cajoled Teresa. “Never be afraid of your abilities.”

Amelia sighed. “It’s always been unclear. I can’t see everything. The visions come and go, and most of the time they’re confusing.”

“You’ll learn how to use it. In time,” Teresa nodded.

Amelia looked at Jack. He knew she wanted to say something. Then she pointed at the O/A.

“So it all hinges on that?”

“It all hinges on you. All of you. The O/A is a tool, strictly for defense, for purposes of peace. It can never be used to harm anyone unless they’re trying to harm you. Then it can be the most devastating instrument in the known and unknown realms. It’s virtually without equal in its power and capability, and it all depends on the user.”

“My dad’s the only one who even remotely has a clue how to operate it, and he’s sitting in jail right now,” Jack examined the device. “And I think it’s still broken, too. Pud, I thought you said you fixed this.”

“Well, I did. Kinda,” Pud scratched his floppy ear. “I mean it’s, like, uh—dude, it’s hard!”

“I don’t think it works,” Jack put his hand over the machine, ready to press its interface.

“Give me that!” Liz took it from him. “That thing’s dangerous. It’s not a toy.”

“But Mom, we need it to save the universe,” he snatched it back.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I think we’ve played fantasyland long enough. Nobody’s saving the universe because nobody’s coming to destroy it. It might be all neat and fun to sit around and light candles and tell stories, but we’ve got real-world problems here. I think we might be wanted by the law and, and,” she checked her watch. “And it’s a school night. I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to do for dinner yet. And now I have all these extra mouths to feed.”

Teresa sprang to her feet. “That’s right, you must be hungry!”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah!” Pud’s tongue wagged.

“Starving!” announced Lily.

Liz stood. “No, we have to go home. I’ll make dinner for them there.”

“Nonsense,” Teresa said. “You can’t go home, now. Not after all that’s happened. Besides, I’ve got plenty. Plenty! You’re my guests. And I’ve been just itching for an occasion to brew up some of my grandmother’s famous bat brain stew!”

“What!”

“Eeeewwww!”

“Ha! Got ya!” she pointed at Lily, then Pud. “That’s a little witch joke. I’ve got something wonderful for you. Just wait.”

She dashed into the kitchen. Behind closed doors, pots clanged, glass shattered, silverware banged against ceramic, pounding rocked the house.

“Are…are you okay in there?” Jack called to her.

“Oh yes, dear,” Teresa sounded out of breath.

“Do you need some help?” Liz yelled. She tried to get in the kitchen but the door seemed jammed.

“No, no, dear. You just relax. Dinner will be coming right up!”

Liz flashed a look of silent concern toward her children. Jack read his mother clearly. Her frown said it all.

“We need to leave, Jack. If Teresa won’t take us, I’ll have to call your grandmother and she can come get us,” she found her phone in her purse. “No cell service? Isn’t that just wonderful? Well, there must be a phone around here somewhere.”

“Dinner is served!” Teresa strode into the dining room carrying an ornate serving tray, complete with a large, domed cover concealing the mystery food inside. A sweet, succulent aroma chased away the secret. Everybody at the table smelled it. Noses twitched, mouths watered.

“What is that?” Pud swallowed back his drool.

“Is it?” Amelia tasted the air.

“It can’t be,” Liz quivered.

“Mommy,” Lily smacked her lips. “It smells like…”

Teresa set the tray on the table and removed the lid, revealing a tremendous, golden brown bird.

“It’s a turkey!”

“Wow!” Pud’s eyes bulged.

Liz gasped. “But how? You were in there for maybe five minutes. How on earth could you possibly cook a turkey in that time?”

THIRTY

SAVAGE! YOU FOOL! Is there any limit to your incompetence!” Davos paced the heavy stones. Savage shook his head, not sure where he was. Then the glyphs on the rock walls stirred a stinging memory.

“Not this place again!” he searched for the huge spa, infested with reptiles and shredded corpses, yet found only solid floor beneath his feet.

“Savage!”

He shot his attention toward Davos, though he didn’t want to look directly at the man, or whatever it was.

“Sir, I promise. I almost had them, I just need…”

“You need to shut up!” Davos sneered. “You fool! You had five of them—five! Right in your grasp! And you let them get away! Fool!”

“But they had help, sir,” he explained. “There were these children and they…”

“Children! Savage do you hear yourself? You’re saying you were duped by some children? How incompetent are you!”

“Sir, you don’t understand. They weren’t normal children. The boy’s the son of a local inventor. They had some sort of advanced technology or something. To tell you the truth, it seemed magical. It was terrifying. Whatever they have, it’s powerful.”

“Advanced technology, you say? Magical?” Davos held out his hands and cupped his palms, touching the fingertips together. A tiny dot of vermillion light forced Savage to squint. He watched it grow to the size of a fist. As it hovered between Davos’ fingers, emitting showers of sparks, Savage stepped back and protected himself from the miniature inferno.

“I’ve got my own little surprise for those annoying children. I’ll teach them for interfering.”

Savage tried to comprehend what he was seeing. Who was this man? Was it even a man? Obviously the sphere was highly advanced. He snuck a look, not caring if the brightness scorched holes in his retinas. It projected power like a tiny, crimson star. He wondered how much it would fetch on the defense market. He knew of several countries that would pay through the nose to get their hands on this kind of hardware.

“What, what is it?” he drooled.

“Just a little toy of mine.”

“Great!” Savage stood straight. “You can use that to fight off those kids and their magic machine while my men and I grab the creatures. It’s perfect!”

“Not so fast, Savage,” Davos snapped his fingers. Three women stepped from a network of stone pillars behind him, their black lace gowns mixing into silhouettes, making it difficult for Savage to tell if they were real or not.

“Who are
they
?” he asked. They chuckled to one another. The one in front was the smallest, yet what she lacked in height, she made up for in width. Short and round with a bulging nose, she seemed to be the leader of the trio.

“They’re the ones who are going to do what you couldn’t. They’re going to locate those creatures for me once and for all.”

Savage studied them more intently. The women wore dark shawls over their heads. His vision adjusted to the murkiness and he made out features on the two taller women, one bone thin, the other not so thin. Scorn cut crevices across their foreheads, frown lines forming shadows down their cheeks. Sickly eyes in deep sockets sprinkled by thick, gray, bristly brows creased and lowered at the sight of him.

He shivered, trying to chase away a disturbing sensation. Davos alone left him feeling empty inside. Together, with these foul women, the effect was bleaker than he thought possible. The short one held up a small dagger and chanted in some unfamiliar language. The others joined her, their words barely a murmur, though somehow powerful enough for him to feel a twinge in his stomach.

“What are they!” he demanded, his insides seething with the peculiar feeling. “Tell me, Davos!”

Davos laughed softly. “You needn’t worry yourself,” he gestured to the women. “My followers won’t hurt you or your men. The only spells they’ll cast are ones to locate those vexing little beasts.”

“Spells!” Savage’s skin prickled. “Witches! That’s what they are! They’re witches, aren’t they!”

“Very good, Savage. It took you that long to figure it out?”

“But, but…if they’re witches, then what are you?”

Davos lost his smile. The women fell silent. Water trickled over stone somewhere, the faint sound of an echoing droplet slinking to the floor. Savage had always tried not to look Davos in the eyes. They scared him. Completely pale with almost no pupils, they were unnatural and he knew it. However, Davos forced him into a deep, enduring stare. His eyes seemed to split down the middle, a black, vertical line becoming thicker and thicker until what formerly was all white became total darkness. Two bottomless pits.

“You want to know what I am?”

The women resumed chanting, this time faster, louder.

Davos let half of his mouth rise in a partial grin. “I’ll show you what I am!”

Savage stumbled when he saw Davos’ hair begin to come alive. The ends of his long, thin, dark dreadlocks twisted and whipped into a frenzy—hissing and clicking and grinding. Savage watched closer and stepped back again. The tufts of hair were actual living beings with large mouths and razor sharp fangs. His mind raced, knowing he’d seen the strange creatures before. Then it hit him. They were the same serpents and gargoyles he’d seen in that huge bath. He held his breath, hoping that would keep the things from noticing him. Not a chance. They looked at Savage directly, standing on end while their dim color spread all the way to Davos’ feet. Then his skull divided and his whole body split apart, separating into long bands. Dozens of them.

They twitched and twisted. Wings extended from their sides, flapping violently until each took flight, a tempest of darkness swirling above Savage. The witches began chanting again, raising their short, curved blades. Their incantations became a fever pitch. They seemed on the verge of ecstasy, as if seeing the transformation gave them energy, or pleasure, or both.

“What have I gotten myself into!” Savage covered himself. Sharp talons tussled with his hair, the mass of black, flying serpents swarming him. Over the fluttering of hundreds of pairs of wings, over the relentless caterwauling of the witches, Savage heard thunderous laughter. He knew it wasn’t coming from some external source. There was no echo off the slimy stone walls, no resonant vibration in his chest. Somehow Davos, as he’d done before, was talking to him without words, connected to his mind.

“You have no idea, Savage,”
Davos laughed again, so loud it forced him to cover his ears, though that didn’t help. It was inside his head.
“No idea at all.”

He breathed deep and put his hands to his side. The winged snakes circled close. The wind from their tails whisked against his face. But they didn’t touch him. Not yet. A half inch closer and he would have been shredded by hundreds of sharp claws and thick, bony scales. Yet they remained at a safe distance.

Realizing he wasn’t going to be killed, he posed a question.

“So what do we do next?”

“WE don’t do anything. YOU are to wait until I summon you again. Despite your failings, I still have much use for you, Savage. The time has come, though, to fight fire with fire. My witches will lead me to the Tanakee. And when they do, I’ll be calling for you. So go back to your compound and wait. And don’t screw anything else up in the meantime, you got that?”

Savage nodded repeatedly. “Yeah, yeah. Yes sir, thank you sir. I won’t let you down this time. I swear.”

The flying creatures broke formation and gathered in a mass in front of him, melding into one, creating the human guise Savage recognized.

“Good, Savage. Good,” Davos held out his hand. The winged beasts fused, forging fingertips which appeared to be covered by leather gloves. Savage now knew they weren’t gloves at all, and it wasn’t really a hand—just an illusion. Same with the thing’s flawless skin. Savage felt the compulsion to bow, just as the witches were. They stood with their heads low, their long hoods shrouding their features, repeating the same chant over and over.

Nagas, Nagas, Nagas.