The Key of Kilenya (2 page)

Suddenly, the sensation that he was not alone
swept over him once more. Something was watching him. Was it the
wolves? His muscles tensed. He held his breath. Could they hear his
heart pounding? He didn’t move—maybe they’d leave him alone. Small
amounts of light flickered from the moon through the dense scrub
oak, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine animals watching as the
shadows formed weird shapes around him. A bit of blood or sweat
tickled his forehead, but he didn’t raise his hand to wipe it
away.

Something rustled in the brush. Jacob turned
his head, ignoring the throbbing pain. The glint of light on a pair
of eyes was followed by movement and a growl. Taking a step back,
he startled a bird from the branches to his right and raised his
hands to shield his face from the wings.

A wolf howl pierced the still air, answered
by a closer howl. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t get his throat
to function.

A growl came from a yard or so in front of
him. Should he run? How many wolves were there? The underbrush
rustled again, much louder this time, then another long growl,
coming closer, and fast. Something was racing at him through the
bushes.

Jacob turned around to run. The thistles
snagged his clothes and skin as he passed through them, and a
branch whipped him across the face.

An animal chased behind him as he struggled
forward. Right when he felt it was about to reach him, he burst
through the trees and fell into a moonlit meadow.

A huge tree stood in the middle of the
clearing. He lurched up and ran to it, head pounding, guided by the
bright moon.

As Jacob got closer, he was surprised to see
that the tree was as big as a house. It was old, and its branches
were large and twisted, without a single leaf. He ran toward it as
fast as he could, looking for a low branch to climb, circling to
the left.

Before he reached the tree, however, a door
in the trunk swung open, showing a hollowed-out interior. He
stumbled in shock—a door in a tree?—but then let his breath out in
relief. This was better than climbing. He changed course and ran
for the door.

The two huge, black wolves raced across the
clearing, followed by several smaller, gray ones. The black wolves
tried to cut off his escape from the right, but too late. Jacob
scrambled through the door, swung around, and slammed it closed
just as the wolves reached leaping distance. Leaning into the door
as hard as he could, he heard the latch click shut right when the
animals hit the wood.

It was darker than coal inside the tree, and
he had to feel around for a moment, searching for a way to bolt the
door. There wasn’t anything—just the knob. He held his shoulder
against the door a moment longer, waiting to see if the handle
would hold. It held, but he could still hear the wolves howling and
clawing to get in.

The tree smelled musty, and it reminded him
of the way wood-shop class always smelled on the first day of
school—projects from the year before long gone, but their scents
remaining. Several seconds passed while he waited for his eyes to
adjust and for the wolves to leave. It was completely silent in the
tree, and the room seemed spacious. He tested the air in front of
him with his hand and took a step forward.

His shin bumped against something hard. He
grunted, bending to rub the spot, and blood rushed to his head. The
intense throbbing made him forget the pain in his shin and he
straightened, taking deep breaths. The wolves must have stopped
trying to get in—it was now quiet outside.

What would Matt do if he were here? He always
knew the best way out of tough situations. He’d find a weapon—some
way to defend himself. Dizziness hit Jacob when he turned too fast,
but he didn’t wait for it to pass this time. Instead, he put his
hands down low in front of him, feeling his way in the dark until
his fingers brushed against something. It was a short, small table.
A table? Obviously it was unusual to find a tree with a door in it.
But furniture?

Then it occurred to him that he might not be
alone. “Hello?” he called out.

Several seconds passed with no response.

Moving as quickly as possible, he found a
small chair next to the table and lifted it to see if it would work
as a weapon. It was too awkward, so he resumed his search, wishing
he hadn’t dropped his pocket knife. A little ways past the chair,
he found a bookshelf and moved around it in frustration. There had
to be something he could use!

Finally Jacob’s hands wrapped around
something that felt like a walking stick, and he took it from its
place against a shelf. Perfect. Despite the disorienting dark, he
returned to the door without further injury. Stick in one hand,
readying himself, he pulled the door open an inch at a time.

Nothing happened.

A moment passed, and then Jacob began moving
out of the tree. A growl alerted him right before one of the gray
wolves jumped into view. He ran back into the tree and slammed the
door shut, making sure it clicked again.

Breathing hard, he put his back to the door.
Stupid wolves!

He frowned, wiping sweat off the nape of his
neck. What were his options now?

He could go back outside and use the stick as
a weapon. His heartbeat sped up at the thought, making his head
hurt even worse. Could he face four or five wolves, suffering like
this and with nothing but a stick to defend himself? Probably
not.

He could wait for a while until he was sure
the wolves were gone, but how would he know they’d really left? In
the darkness, there was no way to verify it.

Or he could wait it out until morning,
getting some rest in the meantime. That was the most logical
solution, given the circumstances. Jacob moaned in frustration and
impatience.

He was curious, though—why hadn’t the wolves
attacked him? Maybe they weren’t hungry—they’d only chased him. But
why? And what on earth were wolves doing in this area, anyway?

After a few moments, he moved past the small
table, chair, and bookshelf, wanting to find a more comfortable
place to wait. In what felt like the middle of the room, he found a
larger table surrounded by four or five chairs, and slumped into
one of them. He felt the cut on his forehead, being careful not to
touch the actual wound. It must have stopped bleeding, thank
goodness.

Leaning forward, he rested his head on his
hands, trying to ignore the pounding pain. Thoughts of his family
helped to distract him. His mom and dad had gone on a week-long
vacation to celebrate their twentieth anniversary the day before.
They’d be staying in some remote cabin halfway across the country
and wouldn’t have cell phone service almost the entire time they
were gone. A neighbor was supposed to check on Jacob and his
siblings in the meantime.

Jacob and Matt were in charge whenever Mom
and Dad went on one of their frequent trips, and Matt would take
good care of Amberly. Jacob sighed. He was so relieved Matt and
Amberly had made it back inside the house. They’d probably locked
everything up and would be okay if the wolves came back.

Jacob lifted his head and stared at the
table. Was the wood getting warmer? He ran his hand across the
surface, but it was cool to the touch. He frowned—had he imagined
the wood’s change in temperature? He didn’t think so, but was too
tired to focus on it any more.

Wanting to get a little rest before morning,
Jacob lowered himself to the floor near his chair and stretched
out, breathing in the warm aroma that was almost pine, but not
quite. As eventful as his evening had been, he couldn’t imagine
sleeping well, especially in a strange place. But after a long
time, he was able to relax, and fell asleep.

A while later, something startled him awake.
A touch on his forehead—light as a whisper. He kept his eyes shut,
trying to decide if he’d imagined it. He waited for a moment in the
pressing silence, then felt a hand on his face. Someone was in the
tree with him.

Back to Top

I
went to the cabin of Aldo and Ezra’s mother to meet
them, but found Ezra dead. Someone had broken into the cabin and
torn it to shreds. Aldo was nowhere to be found, nor was his
mother.

I found a paper crumpled in Ezra’s hand,
with several notes scribbled on it: “Lorkon behind attack?” “What
motive?” “Pregnant” and “Fury
of the Elements.” What is a
Lorkon? And how will I know where to find my Arien?

I plan to return to the cabin with a few men
as soon as possible for a more thorough search.

J
acob jumped up, swinging out with his hands,
but too late. Nothing was there. The door to the tree opened,
momentarily blinding him with late-afternoon sunlight, then shut
just as quickly.

“Hello?” Jacob called out. No answer. He
shook himself, trying to get rid of the creepy feeling that
surrounded him.

A roar outside the tree made him jump.

Oh, no, not the wolves again. He forced
himself to calm down. Wolves didn’t roar, and this roar hadn’t
sounded very close. Maybe he had time to get away! He couldn’t
stand the idea of being trapped again. Jacob raced to the door and
swung it open, but jerked to a stop as soon as the meadow came into
view.

The biggest bear he’d ever seen charged at
top speed toward the tree—straight for him.

He yelled and slammed the door shut, making
sure it clicked, then backed as far away from it as he could. He
bumped into a staircase and dashed up a couple of steps, waiting
for the bear to hit the door. Only, it didn’t.

Something heavy breathed outside—the bear,
obviously. The knob shook—jiggled a bit. A thump against the tree,
and Jacob froze, waiting to see if the bear would break through.
Another loud roar, and the knob jiggled again. Jacob stared at it,
wondering if the bear had the intelligence to try to open it. He
hoped not. The light shining through the cracks on either side of
the door shifted as the creature tried to find a way in.

The knob turned, the latch released, and the
door swung open. Jacob straightened in fright. The bear roared,
opening its mouth farther than Jacob thought possible—the largest
set of teeth he'd ever seen dripped with saliva. He fumbled
backward, nearly falling when his foot hit the step behind him.

The animal roared again, then took a leap
toward Jacob, who spun around and dashed up the stairs.

The bear swiped its paw across his back. He
expected pain from claws, but felt nothing. Relief flushed through
him, though it was short lived. There wasn't anywhere to hide in
this tree. He kept running up—passing rooms as he did so. Beds,
books, shelves—what was this place? Hot breath rushed over his
neck, making the skin there crawl.

The bear took another swipe at him, but
again, the claws didn't catch. Jacob nearly stumbled as he reached
the top of the steps, entering a room without an exit—just windows.
He ran at them as fast as he could, almost falling forward from the
momentum, intending to jump through, but his body merely slammed
against the glass. He spun around right as the bear jumped at him,
knocking him to the ground, roaring at him. Spittle flew onto
Jacob’s face.

Expecting the animal to bite off his head, he
was surprised when large fingers gripped him around the shoulder
and dragged him down the stairs. He jerked around, looking for the
person the hand belonged to, but only the bear was there. It had a
human hand? How was that possible? More surprised now than
anything, Jacob twisted until he could see the other hand—it was
human too! His surprise only lasted a second, though. Pain
registered as his legs and rear end hit each step on the way down.
He flailed around, screaming for help—doing everything to stop
himself, but nothing worked. The fingers dug into his shoulder too
tightly.

The bear pulled him out of the tree and
toward the forest on the opposite side of the meadow. Canyon walls
surrounded them, groups of people poured down the walls, and Jacob
hollered for help.

He screamed when his pant legs tore and
gravel began digging into the skin of his ankles and shins. The
creature charged into the forest.

A small group of people charged after Jacob
and the bear, a blonde woman at the front. A short, black-haired
boy wearing a top hat—a top hat?—raced to a tree and put his left
hand on it. The bear continued dragging Jacob through the forest.
Suddenly, a sharp crack—like a rifle shot, but much louder—sounded
through the air and the bear collapsed, releasing its hold. Jacob
tumbled to the ground, calling out in pain.

The woman caught up and issued orders to the
others. A group of men—all of whom were very, very short—threw a
net over the bear, dragged it to a large tree not far away, then
tied it down.