The Rings of Hesaurun Page 2

  “Oh, yes, I remember. But that man only had a few pieces, and they weren’t as bright as that.” Tierney cocked his head curiously to the side, then added, “Do you think there are people inside?”

  “I don’t know,” his father sighed. “Maybe we will find out when we get there.”

  The possibility of people inside the glass fish was something Pearse hadn’t considered. The thought troubled him. The thing seemed to be constructed rather than natural. There was no question that it was large enough to hold many people. If there were people inside, were they dangerous?

  “Can we eat now?” Tierney asked, giving a hopeful glance at his father’s bag.

  Pearse smiled. Teenagers, he thought to himself. They’re always hungry. Without answering he opened his bag and removed two long strips of dried meat, one for each of them, which they ate in silence. The boy attacked the simple meal as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. After the meat was gone, they shared a handful of dried camas root each, and water from a skin bottle. When they had finished eating, they stared at the extraordinary scene of devastation with the gleaming silver object laid out before them.

  “I wonder if it’s dangerous,” Pearse said absent-mindedly, unaware he had spoken the words aloud.

  “It doesn’t seem to be dangerous, and it isn’t moving,” the boy observed. “I don’t see anything that looks like trouble around it. But...” he thought for a moment, then said, “why did they build a wall around it?”

  “I don’t think anyone built it. I think it happened when that thing hit the ground. Do you know what happens when you throw a rock in the river?“

  “It makes a circle where the rock went in?”

  “That’s right. I think it happened the same way,” Pearse said. “But the rock is a lot smaller than that big glass thing over there,” he observed. “That thing is a lot larger than a rock, and so is the circle.”

  Tierney nodded. “That thing is greater than the conclave hall!”

  “It’s big,” admitted Pearse. “l think someone made it, and the makers might be inside. It’s large enough to hold many people. If there are people inside, we need to be careful not to anger them.”

  Tierney nodded. Meanwhile, Pearse’s mind was assaulted by a myriad of questions. Logic dictated that people had built the thing, that it wasn’t something naturally occurring. Pearse assumed that if people made it, those same people might still be inside. But that possibility troubled him because if people were inside, that meant it was a vessel. And if it was a vessel, who could build such a thing? Undoubtedly anyone strong enough to build such a thing to ride in might be dangerous.

  We have probably seen enough, thought Pearse, but I wouldn’t mind getting a closer look at that glass fish. But is getting closer to it worth the risk? The last thing I want to do is put the boy in danger.

  Pearse’s gut told him he should turn around and go home. That would be the safest thing to do. But if he was to go back now after getting so close to the goal, he feared his son might believe he was afraid, which was something Pearse couldn’t allow. Plus, he wanted answers, and he wasn’t going to find them if he turned back.

  “Let’s get going, boy. Just remember: this is like hunting. Be careful, and be ready for trouble.”

  To demonstrate the situation’s seriousness, Pearse slipped his quiver over his shoulder and readied his bow. Then he took the knife from his belt, a large killing knife, and handed it to the boy. When the man locked his gaze on his son’s eyes, he saw fear in them. But he considered that a good sign: He understands the risk we’re taking. However, as Pearse hardened the stare, the boy glowered back at him bravely, searching his father’s eyes, refusing to blink.

  It was a proud moment for Pearse; the boy was becoming a man, someone he believed he could count on when he needed it. At that moment, he knew there was no turning back. Nothing there to be frightened of, he told himself. Then he turned and began creeping warily toward the earthen wall with the boy following close behind.

  When they arrived at the base of the berm, they were relieved to find it climbable, approximately twenty feet high, with a moderate grade. Once they had reached the summit, they found the crater’s inner surface as smooth and shiny as a polished marble floor. However, Pearse’s heart sank as he realized the smooth surface provided no protective cover for them. With nothing to conceal their approach, they could be easily seen by anyone or anything within half a mile.

  Crouched atop the mound, Pearse saw that nothing moved in the sky, on the ground, or about the ship. The silence was eerie. Pearse guessed the impact had either driven the birds and animals away or killed them outright. As he assessed their surroundings for threats, he found no reason for concern other than the object itself, which gave no sign of danger.

  Before moving forward, Pearse inspected the overcast sky to determine the time of day. He was worried about being out past dusk without a visible moon or stars to guide them home. He decided it must be close to midday, which meant time was limited. The wind was picking up, and the low hanging clouds appeared to threaten snow. If they didn’t keep moving, they would be forced to spend the night in the cold, which Pearse wanted to avoid.

  “I don’t see any reason we shouldn’t get a closer look at it,” he said to the boy. “But keep your guard up. Let’s go; we need to hurry if we are going to make it back before dark,” warned Pearse.

  The approach to the ship was visually deceptive. As the adventurers drew closer, they found themselves dwarfed by its size. Being a lover of storytelling, Pearse wanted to be able to relate his experience accurately, so he paced off the vessel’s width and length. He discovered it to be thirty-five paces wide and one-hundred-twenty paces in length. He guessed the height to be just less than its width. Then he paused to evaluate the object in greater detail.

  First impressions being what they are, he didn’t expect the assumption that the thing was a glass fish to hold true. He never believed it was a fish; it just happened to look like one. Like a fish, it was longer than it was wide, with protrusions not unlike fins. As expected, the skin was smooth, just like glass, brilliant in the diffused light of the winter day.

  Pearse scratched his head, puzzled at the nature of the ship’s skin. He wondered how something so large could have hit the ground with such force and yet remained so clean and smooth. He concluded it must be the nature of the glass, so he reached out to touch it.

  The instant his skin made contact with the ship, a bolt of energy hit him, hurling Pearse to the ground. He was laid out flat, unmoving, as a whisper of smoke escaped from his clothing. The boy rushed to his father’s side, shaking him, praying for a response, anything. But his father didn’t move, and he wasn’t breathing.

  “Father! Father!” the boy called repeatedly, but the man remained lifeless in his arms.

  The horrified boy felt hopeless, deprived of any basis for understanding as to what had happened. Now he was left alone, without answers or any help, desperate to do something to help his father. Tierney didn’t know what to do. Confused and terrified, the boy cradled his father’s limp body in his arms and wept bitterly. ________________________

  Pearse and Tierney weren’t the only ones interested in investigating the unusual sights and sounds occurring that morning. Four men, hunters, watched every move Pearse and Tierney had made from their vantage point on the opposite side of the crater. As hunters, these men were instinctively cautious, satisfied to let others go about the seemingly dangerous job of assessing the strange object.

  Crouching and hushed to protect their position, they watched as the man and boy approached the ship. Anticipation built among the hunters as the man reached out to touch it, then gasped as one when a flash of light erupted. The air wavered briefly around the man; the strange silence was broken, and the man was hurled roughly to the ground. The boy ran to his father’s aid, crying out in alarm, but the truth was immediately apparent. Smoke rising from the man’s unmoving body could only mean one thing: lightning struck him. T
he man was dead.

  Rattled by the unearthly scene, Jotham, the youngest and most impulsive of the four hunters, jumped to his feet, ready to run for it. However, Ammon, the leader of the group, wrenched him back to the ground by the arm.

  “Stay down and be silent,” Ammon growled. “I will tell you when it’s time to move. Have you no courage at all?” He accompanied the insult with a pointed finger and stern look of disapproval to reinforce the reprimand. The other men were frightened too, but their leader stared them down, his face a stony mask of silent condemnation.

  Jotham turned away angrily. He was not one to be insulted by anyone, let alone one he considered to be a feeble old man. Being pushed around and chastised was an offense Jotham wasn’t about to let go unanswered. Although he obeyed Ammon for the moment, rage simmered silently inside him.

  Unaware of Jotham’s growing malice, Ammon’s dark eyes continued surveying the scene with instinctive cunning born of experience. The seasoned hunter’s gaze took in every detail, scrutinizing everything, missing nothing. Rather than being fearful, he was intrigued by what he saw. Experience told him that whatever was going on here wasn’t over yet, and they should expect more to happen. Ammon regarded patience and caution as assets born of experience. Only fools like Jotham disregarded such skills.

  Although Ammon thought the man was likely dead, nothing else had changed. The big object remained where it was. As long as it stayed put, Ammon believed anything could happen, and he wasn’t about to miss what came next. There was nothing left in the area to hunt, and they weren’t in a hurry. So why move? He had no intention of missing it, even if it meant spending the night in the snow without a fire.

  Ammon ordered the men to dig in, set up tents to shelter them from the cold weather, and to do so quietly. As they worked, the hunters took turns keeping watch over the strange scene in the crater. All were eager to see what would happen next, including Jotham.

  Chapter 2

  Valerie Dunne. March 2009.

  Stone’s skin felt prickly. He felt his ring’s yearning; it craved being reunited with the rest of its kind. Its whispers had grown more persuasive in recent days. He didn’t know why, but Stone understood

  the five rings were created to be together in one person. He wanted to be that person, which was why he was at war with his fellow ring bearers. The Hesaurunaki had fought over the rings for four- thousand years, so it was nothing new. Nor was it a secret. The rings made keeping secrets between them impossible.

  Although widely separated, the rings shared an undeniable connection. The closer they came to one another, the stronger their urgings became. Stone saw it in dreams, felt it in his heart, and heard the whispers. His ring implied it was inevitable they would be reunited. But he scoffed at the notion because he knew the truth.

  The Hesauruanaki would never allow it to happen, he told himself. They were too greedy. They used their rings for selfish gain, becoming rich, powerful, and semi-immortal. The ring bearers would never give them up. They always wanted more. Too much of a good thing was never enough, and Stone was no different from the others. And that is why he was there that day. Egan Seamus Stone wanted more.

  With nearly one hundred and twenty years behind him, he had enough experience to know what the tingling sensation meant. And what he was feeling at the moment was a clear indication another ring bearer was in the vicinity. So he viewed it as a warning of sorts. In this instance, it told him they were coming. It was about time because he had grown tired of hiding and waiting.

  Grass clippings and stale gasoline contributed to the stale air of the tool shed. It was damp, dark, and crawling with bugs. For a man of his size, it was a tight fit. But it made the ideal hiding place for his purposes. While he waited he busied himself by smoking and picking spider webs from his hair and clothing.

  Headlights flashed in the darkness, alerting him to their arrival. Theirs was the last house on the tree-lined drive, so he did not doubt who was headed his way. The sound of the approaching vehicle became more pronounced as it drew closer.

  The tool shed window was dusty; mouse droppings littered the sill. But it was clear enough for him to identify the black sedan as it turned toward the house. To keep from being silhouetted in the window by the lights, he moved quickly away from it.

  From his vantage point behind the door, he was able to see the three occupants riding together in the car. He liked that. He liked that because his job would be easier if they stayed together. Things could get messy if they separated. Motion-activated lights bathed the car as it pulled up to the garage. He heard the doors open and close as they got out. Peering between the door and the frame Stone saw they were relaxed and unaware of his presence. He liked that too.

  The couple began unloading the car and carrying groceries into their house. Their four-year-old daughter Valerie plucked up the family cat Orson, a big tabby, and carried it inside. That cat is almost as large as the kid, Stone thought. When she emerged, the cat was tagging along right behind, which brought a smile to his lips. Now they were coming together. The time was right.

  Got a little surprise for you folks! Stone chuckled to himself. But you aren’t going to like it. Just hold still, and when I’m done, I’ll have that ring!

  Stone took a deep breath, felt a burst of anticipation, and summoned the power of his ring. It felt good; the ring’s power warmed his bones as it sought release. He was ready. But when the little girl turned to him, fixing her eyes directly on Stone in an unblinking stare, his blood instantly chilled. Even the cat seemed to give him a dirty look. The little one’s eyes darkened, then her gaze became a stark glower that knocked Stone back on his heels.

  Damn it! His mind thundered. I am well hidden in these shadows! How could the kid have seen me? No way she could have known I was here unless—unless she had help. Must be a ring at work, but I don’t see one on either of the folks. Could she be the one with the ring? Naw, no one in their right mind would trust a curtain-climber with something so powerful.

  Stone knew the rings of Hesaurun weren’t children’s toys. They could be dangerous. No one in their right mind would allow a kid to wield such a formidable weapon, he reasoned. As unsettling as the little girl made him feel, Stone dismissed her as being insignificant and irrelevant.

  Precious time had already been wasted on the child. As he refocused his attention on the adults, Stone cursed her for the distraction. They were nearly finished unloading the car. The time to strike is now. Now or never. Success depended on catching them outdoors, unaware and close together, leaving no time to run, no time to panic, no time to spare.

  Stone paused. There was no sure way to know which one of them had the ring. With so little time, his best guess would have to do. But there was danger in that. If he were to strike the wrong person, the one with the ring might have time to retaliate before he could react. His timing had to be perfect, or the tide could turn against him.

  Finally, the couple came together, standing side-byside at the driver’s side of the car, exactly as he’d hoped. Their cheerful voices carried in the night air. The moment was perfect. As Stone stepped out of the shadows and into the light, they noticed the movement. Both heads turned instinctively toward him. They saw him and froze like statues, their voices cut off mid-sentence.

  “What—what do you want?“ Out of the shadows strode a giant of a man, nearly seven feet tall, dressed entirely in black. In a heartbeat, they realized the truth. The hulking giant was there to kill them.

  Transfixed by the unexpected sight, the couple wrapped their arms around one another. At twenty yards, the big man stopped, raised a hand as if gesturing for them to halt. But in their hearts they knew he didn’t mean for them to stop. Holding each other tightly, they looked to themselves for answers but found none. The last thing the horror-struck couple would ever see was a flash of blinding white light.

  The energy wave loosed upon them erupted with a blazing flash, a bolt of blinding force, shattering their bodies on impact. The m
ixed remains of the couple and their car were hurled high into the air. The tumbling shell of the car thundered and crashed as it slammed to the ground, over and over. Bits and pieces were flung all over the property. When what remained of the vehicle came to rest, it was unrecognizable as an automobile, and the landscape was littered with a grisly combination of twisted metal, debris, and gore.

  The big man stared dumbly at the carnage, scratching his head in wonderment. A hubcap fell out of the sky, landed where the car had been with a clank, then rolled away into the darkness. Finally, all was silent, the air thick with the noxious stench of fuel, oil, and blood.

  “Damn it anyway!” Stone muttered. Guess I over-compensated, he thought. Now everything is destroyed! How am I going to be able to pick the Hesaurun ring out of that mess? It’ll be like finding a needle in a haystack. Now I have to sort through a yard full of rubble, carnage and busted bodies to find it. Should’ve used a gun. Would have been a lot more sanitary. Better get at it—time’s a-wasting.

  Stone scanned the devastation, wondering where to start. As he stepped into the debris field, something shiny caught his eye. As he bent to pick it up he saw it was a quarter. “Chaching!” he chuckled, then shoved it in his pocket, happy to be ahead by a quarter-dollar. It wasn’t much, but it lightened his mood.

  Suddenly the sky began to lighten overhead. Stone was baffled. As he searched the heavens, he expected to find nothing but darkness and stars. Instead, the night sky continued brightening, taking on a purple hue. He watched in wonder as purple changed to orange and then red. Soon the entire sky was a painter’s pallet of blazing colors. The odd chill he felt told him something had gone wrong. Terribly wrong.

  “You hurt my mom and dad,” said a small voice from behind him.

  Stone whirled. That’s when the realization struck him. You forgot the little girl! As he turned to face her, he was surprised to find the child and the cat she carried splattered in blood. Some of it was her own, yet the girl didn’t seem to care. The little tyke stood resolute, gazing up at him, her eyes boring into his soul, seemingly unafraid despite the carnage she’d witnessed.