The Final Storm (6 page)

“Thank you, Mr. Pierson,” Aidan replied, and he grabbed his backpack and started to get up from the table.

“Oh, Aidan, one more thing,” Mr. Pierson said. “What have you got in that backpack of yours?”

Just then, Robby came bounding into the dining room. “Hey, Aidan!” he said, and for the first time since Aidan moved, Robby sounded like the old Robby again. Aidan slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked toward his old friend.

“I was thinkin’ Aidan and I could ride bikes up to the park and throw the football around.” Robby turned to Aidan. “That is, if you don’t mind ridin’ Jill’s hunk of junk.” Aidan shrugged. He didn’t mind.

“That all right with you, Dad?”

“That’ll be fine, son,” Mr. Pierson replied, but the smile was gone. “Just remember what I told you.”

“I will, Dad. I will.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your dad?” Aidan finally blurted out as they pedaled up Mazzoni Hill on their way to the park.

“I dunno,” Robby replied. “I guess I’m still getting used to the idea myself.”

“Well, is he . . .” Aidan chose his words carefully. “Is he like he used to be?”

Robby pulled ahead a little. “Some,” he replied. “But he’s changed in a lot of ways. He’s rich.”

“I noticed the car in front of the house!” Aidan replied. “And he told me about his book.”

“Yeah, he called and said he was sorry. Mama and Jill just welcomed him back with open arms.”

“What about you?” Aidan asked.

Robby pedaled in silence a few moments. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I mean, it’s great to have my dad back. He’s real smart—helps me sort out my problems. C’mon, Aidan! Almost to the top, and then we coast!”

Robby poured it on. He rode a sleek racing bike and had little trouble getting up the hill. Aidan zipped along as best he could on Jill’s no-name bike, with the little plastic streamers coming out of the grips and a banana seat. They crested the hill and coasted side by side.

“Where were your mom and Jill? I didn’t see them at your house.”

“Shopping,” Robby replied as they reached the bottom of the hill. “If it’s a Saturday, then they’re shopping. They like spending Dad’s money.” Aidan and Robby sped through the park entrance toward the game area.

They secured their bikes, and Aidan dug into his backpack and reached for the football. As he did, his hand brushed against the Scrolls. There was so much he wanted to say, and he had rehearsed it in his mind a hundred times. But still he couldn’t quite get himself to bring it up. Aidan zipped up his backpack, and Robby went long.
Maybe I’ll tell him after lunch,
Aidan thought as he threw the football. It was a perfect spiral, but it sailed well past Robby’s outstretched arms.

Robby came huffing back. “That was a launch, Aidan! You been practicing?”

Aidan smiled and shrugged. “Not really.”
There’s a lot about me that’s changed,
Aidan thought.

They played catch while the morning sun climbed, until Robby yelled, “Punt the ball to me and then try and catch me! I’ve got a move for ya!” Aidan kicked the ball high in the air. Robby caught it and rumbled toward Aidan. Robby was fast, and he juked to the left to get by his friend. But Aidan paid no attention to the move. He watched Robby’s waist and slammed into his buddy like a freight train. Robby sprawled backward on the turf, and the football came loose and tumbled away.

Aidan held out a hand and helped Robby to his feet. “Nice hit,” Robby muttered, followed by a cough. “I was fixin’ to fake you out, but you nailed me.”

Robby shook his head as he walked over to pick up the football he had dropped.

“Mmm.” Aidan smiled, his mouth full of pizza. “Bambinos!”

“Thanks for getting us pizza, Dad,” Robby said.

“I figured two strong boys like yourselves could use a big lunch,” said Mr. Pierson. He patted Robby on the shoulder as if he had always been dear old Dad, but Aidan noticed that Robby flinched ever so slightly.

“So what are you boys going to do now?”

Robby shrugged. “Maybe play some video games. What do you want to do, Aidan?”

Aidan felt Mr. Pierson’s gaze falling steadily upon him. “That’d be good,” Aidan replied. “What games do you have?”

“Name it,” Robby replied. He got up and took his plate to the sink. “Dad got me all the systems. And a bucket of games for each.”

“Cool!” Aidan said as he stood.

“C’mon,” Robby said, and he made his way to the door to the basement. “I’ve got a really nice setup down here . . .” Robby hesitated. “Oh yeah, I forgot. You don’t like basements very much, do you?”

“Really not a problem anymore,” Aidan said, grabbing his backpack and heading down the stairs.

Robby’s basement was divided into two areas joined by a door at the bottom of the stairs. One side was comfortable, furnished, and cheery. That was where Robby and Aidan used to hang out. The other side, the work side, was exactly the opposite. It was a cold, shadowy place filled with rotting scrap wood and all manner of tools. Cobwebs adorned every corner, and the cinderblock walls had been stained long ago by some dark substance. The one light on the work side rarely worked. It hung from the ceiling like a hangman’s noose.

“So basements don’t bother you anymore?” Robby said, and he too glanced at the work-side door.

“We used to work ourselves up pretty good,” Aidan replied. Inwardly he struggled. He knew that Robby had presented him with a perfect opportunity to talk to him about the Scrolls. But that strange feeling he’d had earlier—like there were invisible enemies all around—was back and stronger.

“You want to play
NHL Hockey Supreme
?” Robby asked. “Or wait, I’ve got this cool two-player adventure game called
Oswald’s Quest
. I bet you’d like that.”

Three hours later, the boys were still playing
Oswald’s Quest
. And while Aidan seemed on the outside totally engrossed in hunting huge, hairy goblins, collecting piles of gold, and buying weapons and armor, he was really just playing on autopilot. Inside, his mind whirled.
Get the Scrolls and tell him!
he kept urging himself. But other thoughts kept complicating it. Why was Robby’s dad here? Why was he so interested in Aidan’s backpack? Why did he want Aidan to leave Robby alone?

“Score!” Robby exclaimed. “We did it! We got to the final level! I could never do it by myself. I wonder what the monster’s gonna be.”

Aidan snapped out of his trance and looked at the screen. Robby moved his sword-wielding character near the opening to a massive cave where he could ambush whatever came out. Aidan directed his bowman character into a covering position in the boughs of a tree. Aidan and Robby watched as a three-headed dragon slowly emerged from the cave. Robby attacked immediately, unleashing huge chopping strokes on the creature’s scaled belly. Most swordstrikes did no damage, but the ones that struck the dragon’s chest did. Each time Robby slashed there, all three of the dragon’s heads roared, and the creature’s eyes flashed bright red.

Suddenly, one of the dragon’s heads plucked Aidan’s archer from the tree and began to gobble him up in a very colorful way. But Aidan was not concerned any longer about the game. Seeing the red eyes flash cut through Aidan’s indecision at last. He put down his controller and went to his backpack and fished out the Scrolls.

“Aidan, you’re gettin’ walloped!” Robby said, peppering the buttons on his controller.

“Robby, could you put it on pause for a minute?” Aidan asked as he sat down next to Robby on the floor and began to untie the Scrolls.

“Okay. What is that?” Robby asked. The basement became eerily silent.

“Robby, this is what I’ve been trying to tell you about ever since I left Maryland,” Aidan said, taking a deep breath. “These are The Scrolls of Alleble.” Robby stiffened. His eyes darted just for a second to the stairs.

Aidan went on. “Do you remember before I moved, you told me that life seemed like a cruel joke?” Robby sat very still.

“I didn’t know what to say,” Aidan continued. “I felt the same way at the time. It just didn’t make sense that I had to move so far away right after I finally found a good friend. But there was a reason.”

Aidan went on to tell Robby about finding The Scrolls of Alleble and how Grampin helped him understand how to answer the invitation and enter The Realm. Aidan spoke of The Schism that divided The Realm from earth. He described the beings known as the Glimpses and told of their connection to their twins on earth. Aidan told of his training to be a knight in the service of King Eliam and of the great victory Aidan had played a role in, saving many lives.

“If I hadn’t moved,” Aidan explained, “I might never have figured out that the Scrolls were more than just a story. I needed to be near Grampin—he knew all about it, Robby. Grampin showed me the path to the other world.”

Robby looked at Aidan as if he had just told him the blue sky he’d been living under his entire life was actually purple. But Aidan was undaunted.

“Robby, you told me you hated how tragic and unpredictable life is. You said you always wanted something you could count on.” He flipped through the Scrolls and found the account of the Great Betrayal. “Robby, there is someone you can count on. He is the ruler of Alleble, and his name is King Eliam the Everlasting. I want you to read this and see what the King did for his people.”

Robby said nothing, but began to read the account. Aidan would have given his right arm to know what Robby was thinking at this point. But soon, Robby’s facial expressions began to tell a story. First there were subtle shakes of the head as if Robby disagreed with what he was reading. Next came the scrunching of his eyebrows and the squinting, and then he took a sharp breath. Just as he was about to speak, the basement door opened.

“It’s getting kind of quiet down here, boys,” said Mr. Pierson as he hastily descended the stairs. When he reached the bottom of the steps he was smiling. But when he saw Robby with the Scrolls in his lap, his face contorted. His tanned skin, which to Aidan already looked stretched and unnatural, became so taut with rage that it seemed his skull would burst right through. His sunken eyes bulged behind the wire-rimmed glasses, and he directed his stare, heavy with accusation, at Aidan. Then he turned to his son.

“Whatcha got there, Robby?” Mr. Pierson asked, his voice as taut as his skin.

Robby glanced at Aidan miserably. “Scrolls,” he muttered at last.

“Scrolls, huh?”

“Th-they’re Aidan’s,” Robby said.

“I think you ought to give them back to Aidan, right about now,” Mr. Pierson said in an emotionless voice that was somehow worse than anger. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Robby replied, and he practically threw the Scrolls at Aidan. Aidan swiftly rolled them up and shoved them into his backpack. He turned and looked up at the massive figure of Robby’s father.

In that moment, Aidan saw in the face of Robby’s father a different identity. The skull-like grimace, the barely concealed rage, the arrogant confidence—Aidan remembered. “Rucifel,” he whispered.

Mr. Pierson’s expression changed. His eyes narrowed, and one corner of his thin-lipped mouth turned up into a clever smile. “Robby, I think your friend Aidan has just about worn out his welcome here.” He reached slowly underneath his jacket.

Aidan involuntarily stepped back a pace. Then, to Aidan’s relief, Mr. Pierson pulled out a cell phone. “Call your father,” Mr. Pierson said. “Tell him to come get you . . . right now.”

Aidan punched in the number, spoke for a few moments, and then handed the phone back to Robby’s father. “He said he’d be here in about twenty-five minutes.”

“Good,” Mr. Pierson replied. He led Robby and Aidan up the stairs. When they entered the hallway at the top of the steps, Mr.Pierson directed Aidan to the front door.

“You are no longer welcome in this house, Aidan Thomas. So you’d best make other plans for tomorrow.”

And with that, Mr. Pierson ushered Aidan out the front door into the yard. But not before Aidan spied Robby gesturing to get his attention. Aidan stared, and Mr. Pierson turned.

“Son, we need to have a talk,” Mr. Pierson said, adjusting his glasses. “Go to your room.”

But it was too late. Aidan had gotten the message. Robby had mouthed the word “fort.”