The Dragon's Descent (22 page)

Tack looked over her shoulder.

“Your perspective is off. You've got a river running right through the side of a mountain,” he said, pointing to it.

“I just draw what I see. I don't care about perspective,” Clover huffed, annoyed. “How about you? Can you feel anything from the drawing?” Clover looked to Tack.

“No. But I still don't get why you drew the shadow of the mountain as a triangle,” Tack said. “You really need to take an art class in perspective.”

“No, that's real. Even though the mountain is shaped like a cone, it casts a perfect triangular shadow,” Clover said. “And nobody knows why.”

“Yeah, there are tons of images of it on the Internet. Tourists posting their photos,” Vero said.

“Doesn't make sense,” Tack said.

A mini-twister disturbed the still air. It instantly stopped spinning, and Uriel, Raziel, Raphael, and Gabriel—an impossibly beautiful female angel with shoulder-length, copper-colored hair—emerged from its center. They turned to Michael, who always looked intimidating. Well muscled and around ten feet tall, Michael also towered over the others. The angels stood on the edge of a desolate mountain in the part of the Ether that belonged to Lucifer. Rocks were all around them, as nothing green grew here. It resembled a desert after a nuclear bomb had exploded—dead beyond dead. Michael turned to the other archangels.

“I wanted all of you to see this. There is great commotion down below,” Michael told the others, speaking mind to mind.

He nodded to the flat, barren wasteland below. The others followed his gaze and saw the land move as if there
were waves beneath the surface. Though muffled, the shrieks and cries coming out of the dirt were almost deafening. An intermittent glow of red covered the rolling land, making it appear to be made of volcanic hot spots.

“How many do you think he will release?” Uriel asked Michael with concern.

Michael caught Uriel's eyes. “All of them.”

Uriel's chin slumped to his chest.

“But Vero's only a fledgling,” Raphael said.

“He's becoming more and more powerful,” Uriel said. “He can summon now.”

“Impressive,” Gabriel said.

Raziel shook his head. Michael read his thoughts.

“No, Raziel, do not blame yourself,” Michael said. “This is meant to be.”

Raziel slowly nodded.

“We are to trust.”

“I do trust,” Raziel said.

“Then what is it?”

“I've resented the boy,” Raziel said, his eyes down in apparent shame.

“Vero?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes. I lost the book. I should be the one who is in danger. What I did a long time ago has put Vero in harm's way . . . I allowed myself to be fooled by Solomon when he switched the gem in his ring and sent the book away. I should be the one to correct my mistake.”

“As I would like to correct mine,” Uriel said, recalling his lack of judgment that allowed the serpent into the garden. “But He has forgiven us.”

“This is a chance to make things right,” Raphael said.

“Which is why we must do everything we can to ensure Vero does not fail,” Michael said. “Because there will not be another chance.”

A pit formed in Raziel's gut as his eyes drifted out to the land below. The red, glowing ground was seething—it was only a matter of time before it would burst open.

16

CHIKO

V
ero shoved several bottles of purified water into his backpack and zipped it shut. Tack was busy with his backpack as well.

“That reminds me,” Tack said as he grabbed a box of Ding Dongs from his suitcase on top of the bed.

“How many of those did you bring?” Vero asked.

“Just one box for each day.”

Tack shoved the entire box into his backpack and zipped it just as Clover stuck her head into the bedroom.

“The bus is out front,” she announced. “You guys ready?” Clover looked over and saw the other box in Tack's suitcase. “Really?”

“Yes, Clover, Ding Dongs,” Tack said, very dramatically. “For your information, the heavenly chocolate cake and exterior glaze shell both contain cocoa, which scientists have proven greatly enhances concentration and mental abilities, and the divinely creamy center contains vanilla
bean extract—a fragrant spice used by Zen masters for thousands of years for its nerve calming effects and promotion of an overall feeling of relaxation. It's no exaggeration at all to say that Ding Dongs are the greatest performance-enhancing snack ever known to mankind,” Tack picked up his backpack in a lofty manner for effect. “Don't mock that which you do not understand.” He then purposefully walked past her into the main room.

Vero rolled his eyes at Tack's performance, as Clover laughed at the speech. “I guess that explains why I don't need them . . . I'm cool as a cucumber,” she said.

“Let's go,” Vero said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he walked out of the small bedroom. “And Clover, don't forget to bring your drawing.”

“Don't need it,” Clover said. “I've committed every detail to memory.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Vero said as he held the door open to the hallway. Tack walked out. Clover hesitated.

“Go ahead, I'll be down in a minute,” she said to Vero. “I forgot something.”

“I'll wait, get it.”

“No, you go. Mom and Dad will get worried wondering where we are,” Clover said.

Vero walked out and closed the door after him. Once he was gone, Clover walked over to Tack's open suitcase and pulled out a plastic-wrapped Ding Dong. Her hand shook as she unwrapped it and shoved the whole chocolate cake into her mouth. When she was done, she grabbed another and then walked into the main room, unwrapping it. The
door opened. Clover panicked, but it was too late. She was busted.

Tack stood in front of her, grinning ear to ear. “I think this could be the start of something beautiful.”

The bus was about half the size of a regular school bus. It was green and pretty old, with lots of rusted metal spots. Vero saw his mother looking at their transportation with a look of disappointment and doubt as they stood under the hotel porte cochere.

“I'm not so sure it's even going to make it out of the driveway,” Nora said while staring at the bus.

“Yes, it will be good,” a woman said with a strong Sri Lankan accent. “It ees only fort-ee years old,” she said playfully. “For Sri Lanka, it just broken in.”

Nora turned and focused on Kane and his aunt, who'd introduced herself as Adrik. She was a tall woman with tanned skin, and short, dark, spiky hair. If Vero had to guess, he'd say she looked about sixty.

“Oh, Adrik, hello,” Nora said.

Nora and Dennis had met Adrik the day before, when Kane had brought his aunt to the hotel to introduce her and to work out all the arrangements for the journey. They were taking a bus to Dalhousie, the access town to Sri Pada. According to Adrik, it would be about a four-and-a-half-hour drive. They were scheduled to arrive around two in the afternoon, check into the hotel there, and begin the climb late that night along with the other pilgrims. That way, they'd be able to observe the breathtaking sunrise as
well as watch the shadow of the mountain form on the distant horizon and then recede back across the plains below.

“Now that you all are going, I'm a bit jealous,” Dennis said.

“It's only one night,” Nora said as she hugged her husband. “We'll be back before you know it.”

Dennis hugged his children, then Tack. After saying their good-byes, the bus driver—a short, stubby man with a thick, full beard—opened the door, and they stepped onto the vehicle.

About an hour into the ride, Tack and Clover had fallen asleep. Apparently the travel and time change had taken a toll. Both were sprawled out across a bus seat. Vero wondered how they could get comfortable enough to nap, because springs were pushing up through his seat, and the antiquated bus seemed to hit every pothole along the way. Kane was listening to music on his earphones, and Nora and Adrik were sitting two rows up, talking.

“Kane loved lee-ving in Washington . . .” Adrik was saying.

This snippet of conversation caught Vero's attention. He leaned forward to listen.

“I wanted to vee-sit him,” Adrik said. “But he was there so short a time.”

Vero knit his brow in confusion. Kane was never an exchange student in Washington, D.C. Why was his aunt lying for him?
It's bad enough when a kid lies, but an adult?
But then Vero wondered if Adrik was like Clover. Had Kane confided his real identity to her? Maybe Adrik knew Kane was a guardian, and she was helping him out. It was unclear to Vero, but he decided all that really mattered
was that he would be in Sri Pada in a few short hours, as unbelievable as that seemed. He rested his head against the window and tried to get some rest as well. He watched the green landscape pass by—palm trees, banana plantations, and rice paddies. And despite the cushion springs pushing against his bottom, he soon fell asleep.

“We're here,” Tack said while shaking Vero's shoulder. “Ew, gross, man! Hey, guys, look! Vero drooled all over the window!”

Vero opened his eyes. Spit dribbled down his chin. He quickly wiped it with his sleeve.

“I must be jetlagged too,” Vero said.

“We here!” Adrik yelled. “Don't forget your bags!”

Vero reached down below the seat and pulled out his backpack. He stood and walked down the aisle, stopping to let his mother out first.

“You have a good nap?” Nora asked Vero.

“Somehow, I guess.” Vero rubbed his backside.

“Good. You needed it. You have dark circles under your eyes.”

Vero stepped off the bus. The first thing that hit him was the mist. He felt as if he was smacked in the face with a blast of cold, wet air. He looked around. The bus had stopped in the central square of the town. Before him were rows of shoddy wooden booths with people hanging their goods for sale. Peddlers were busy selling snacks, flashlights, warm clothing, hiking boots, and bottles of water and soda to pilgrims. He also noticed the main street was paved with
asphalt, but side streets were dusty, hard-packed earth. A river ran alongside the town and beyond that, dense forest stretched forward.