New Beginning: Book and Key, #4

By Curtis Walker

The enemies of good King Adon of Uwd have regathered in greater strength for a final battle for the kingdom. The rebellion is led by Tumah, who calls herself a queen, and Zanah, whose dark magic enables him to change into forms as diverse as a dragon and a panther.

With the armies of Zanah and Tumah coming against the King's followers, the heroes from Earth—Uncle Frank, Thomas, and Gracie—return to defend the true King's followers and, they hope, rescue some in rebellion against him.

The battle that ensues pits the enemy's forces against a ragtag group that's led by a boy inexperienced in war and a girl whose only weapon is song. They appear vastly outnumbered, but know that King Adon is with them, and that a victory in Uwd will accomplish something back on Earth more wonderful than any of them could imagine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Berrier
• Release date: Apr 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224182060

Book preview

New Beginning

Curtis Walker

New Beginning

Copyright © 2018 by Michael Berrier

All Rights Reserved

Printed in the United States of America

The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

Author’s Note

Welcome to the world of Uwd!

As Thomas Gaines says of Uwd, "It sounds like something an owl would say. Oood. Oood."

The ways to pronounce the rest of the names of places in Uwd, and of the people living there, together with their meanings, can be found in the Appendix at the end of this book.

Other information, including a diagram of the family relationships of the main characters, can be found in the Notes, also at the end of the book.

Now, imagine this...

The Book and Key Series

is for

my son, Daniel

If you would stay, if you would fight,

If to my side you’d cleave,

Then great adventures, wisdom, truth

Will your ways never leave.

—Adon, King of Uwd

One

In the shadows of silent woods, two catty eyes glowed blue.  They blinked, upright black pupils vanishing into the darkness, and then reappearing.

The leathery rustle of shifting wings broke the silence, and clawed feet stepped from the protection of the trees.

A dragon.

He emerged into the clearing. He did not fear being seen by the Tower guards on the other side of the clearing, half a mile away. The moon’s glow filtered only dimly through clouds, and light from the Tower’s windows did not extend far enough to reveal him. To the Tower guards, his brown, plated skin and pointy shape would only look like an ominous shadow before the trees. Even the silver collar around his neck and the red stone dangling from it were hidden in darkness.

He stretched his wings and arched his back to wring out of his muscles the fatigue from crouching so many hours in the woods, watching.

A pale light flickered from a window at the top of the Tower. Brighter lights glowed below, where the enemy gathered with their feasting, and sang songs that drifted across the meadow, unwelcome and ugly to his ears. His enemies were protected by the Tower’s high stone walls and guards. The Tower was impossible to charge, making it the perfect place for them to hide their captive in the room at the top of the Tower.

But the dragon would free her.

He watched the small window at the top of the Tower, and a form appeared there, at once chilling and swelling his heart. It was a form he knew as well as any other, a movement of arm and curve of shoulder that even at this distance he could not mistake. In that room she waited for his rescue.

A second later he was off the ground, his great wings pulsing, pushing him up from the grassy meadow. He circled high, air thick as water to the leathery sheets of his wings, carrying him upward. He rose until the guards looked small below him, and he drew even with the Tower’s topmost walls. From this height he soared down toward the small high window, flashing past it, looking for a spot to grasp with his rugged claws.

The ledge he spied was narrow, but he believed his talons were powerful enough to hold. He drew his wings back and angled to it, flapped twice, and scratched out for the ledge, flapped twice more, and was perched before her like a giant vulture.

She looked in his eyes. Her rounded face drew him, gray hair that was once dark she wore pulled back, eyes pinched by the flesh swelling around them from a thousand tastes. Though it was no longer the face he knew when young, this was the face he had come for, the face of Tumah, and he saw recognition in her eyes.

He had been in the form of a dragon for such a long time that her words sounded foreign to his ears, but he heard his name. Zanah...at last, she said.

A noise behind her startled her, and she wheeled around. The door opened. A guard lifted his eyes from the key he drew from the lock. Behind him, a slender woman with a tray of steaming food waited.

Tumah stepped away from the window, and Zanah inhaled through his mouth, flaming heat gathering in his chest.

The woman in the hallway dropped the tray and ran.

The guard shouted, his language strange, and his sword zinged from its scabbard.

Fire balled inside the dragon, swelling and swelling, yearning to be exhaled. Zanah let the guard approach, enjoying the look in his eyes, courage about to melt in flame.

The dragon breathed fire, and the guard fell.

Rapid footfalls clomped in the hallway, more men coming. A smile cramped Tumah’s lips.

Zanah hopped on the ledge, turning from her and flapping his wings to keep his back close enough for her to reach. He felt her climbing onto him and her arms slipping around his neck. Her fragrance filtered through the sulfur seeping from his nostrils. And he stepped from the ledge to fly, a blast of wind drowning the strange shouts of the guards behind them.

With Tumah clinging to his back, he soared in a circle, and approached the great window of the Tower. Zanah gathered another ball of flame in his chest. With a shrieking cry, he let flame fly outside the window. The singing in the hall stopped, and he turned away from the hated place, rising higher, the weight of his wife on his back, wings pumping at the air to carry both of them away from her captivity. She was free again from their enemies.

And their son was ready to lead the attack of their regathered army.

Two

Thomas thought they probably gave this hospital room to little kids mostly. He was too old for a room with Teddy Bears on the wallpaper.

He wanted to shift his weight onto his side, but it was hard to move. He pushed down with his elbows and turned his shoulders, but that was all he could do. Nurse Kelly would help him when she came by again. Or Uncle Frank could. Uncle Frank had promised to come by at 8 o’clock today.

The big, round clock on the wall beyond the foot of his bed read 8:15. Uncle Frank was usually late, and today was no exception. But Thomas decided he wouldn’t look at the clock again.

On the whiteboard underneath the clock, Nurse Kelly had written her name in purple ink. His mom had pictures of his friends and family taped up there too. They all smiled at him in the pictures. Keeping him company.

He tried not to feel sorry for himself, but this was a rotten way to spend a birthday. At least the surgery was over with. Now all he had to do was lie here until Doctor Flynn told him he could go home.

Footsteps squeaked in the hallway outside his room. He didn’t look. If it was Uncle Frank, he’d know soon enough.

The squeaking paced away.

He couldn’t help but look back to the clock. 8:20.

When would he come?

The Teddy Bears smiled at him. In the pictures, his mom and dad smiled at him, and his cousin Gracie and her mom, Aunt Jo, smiled too. Grandma Tillie and Grandpa Jim smiled. Grandpa Luke and Grandma Hettie smiled. And Uncle Frank and Aunt Em.

Everybody was smiling but Thomas.

He thought about how they all had an order. It was never Aunt Em and Uncle Frank. It was always Uncle Frank and Aunt Em. Grandpa Jim and Grandma Tillie sounded strange to him, but Grandma Tillie and Grandpa Jim sounded right.

One of his relatives was missing from the pictures. One was always missing. Uncle Roger. Thomas had only seen a picture of him once. Uncle Roger had no smile on his lips in that picture. He stared at the camera like he wanted to melt it with his eyes. It was an old black and white photo, so Thomas didn’t know if his Uncle Roger’s hair was brown or red or black. He didn’t know if his uncle’s eyes were blue or green or gray. But he knew that when he asked his mom about Uncle Roger, or asked Uncle Frank, they grew silent for a while before they gave him an answer that didn’t tell him anything. Uncle Roger was gone. He left the family. They didn’t know where he was. But he was still Uncle Frank’s brother and Thomas’s mom’s brother, and they loved him, wherever he was and whatever he was doing.

A picture of Thomas’s friend Jason in his little league uniform was taped under Uncle Frank and Aunt Em’s. He was on the Pirates this year, and their colors were yellow and black. Jason was smiling in his batter’s stance in the picture, and when he gave Thomas the picture yesterday, he told him about their last game when he pitched a two-hitter. He said he was looking forward to playing ball with Thomas one day. Jason’s mom blinked a lot when he said that.

Footsteps clacked in the hallway, heavy steps with light, quick ones alongside. That wouldn’t be him. Aunt Em was in Laguna Beach for the art festival, showing her paintings. It sounded like Mom and Dad, back from breakfast.

Thomas worked his face into a smile before they got to the doorway. They’d already wished him Happy Birthday when he woke up this morning.

Mom’s hands reached out for him. Hi, Sweetie.

Doctor Flynn come by yet, pal? his dad said.

Not yet. I was just looking at my pictures.

They both glanced at the whiteboard, and Dad stepped over to take a look. Jase looks like he’s ready to hit one out.

He’s a better pitcher than a hitter. He told me so.

Dad pulled a chair next to Mom’s. Her hands were soft on Thomas’s arm, stroking. The I.V. dispenser softly whirred.

Uncle Frank said he was coming by this morning, Thomas said. He said he’d be here around 8.

Mom’s eyes crinkled up when she smiled. She always did that when they talked about Uncle Frank. Well, you know your uncle. He’s never been very good with clocks and watches.

Let’s buy him a sundial.

Thomas’s dad smiled. Can you see him lugging it around, always trying to get it pointed in the right direction?

Men’s voices advanced in the hallway, and Thomas’s heart sped.

There he is, Thomas said.

Mom and Dad turned their heads, and in came Uncle Frank, big belly and chest covered with plaid flannel, sleeves rolled up and forearms tanned with knotty muscles. His wide beard perked up at the corners of his mouth when his eyes met Thomas’s.

Hello, young man! How’re they treating you?

Doctor Flynn came in behind him, looking like a skinny sliver of a guy behind Uncle Frank.

They’re treating me fine. They’re real nice.

Everyone was standing now except Thomas.

Uncle Frank kissed his sister on the cheek and shook Thomas’s dad’s hand. He tilted his head toward Doctor Flynn. I found this doctor wandering around in the hallway and thought I’d bring him along. Hope you don’t mind.

The doctor stepped to the bedside and put his hand on Thomas’s shoulder, taking over.

I’m feeling pretty good, Doctor Flynn, Thomas said. It wasn’t completely true, but it was Thomas’s birthday and going home would be a great present.

While Doctor Flynn inspected Thomas’s stitches, Uncle Frank came around behind Thomas’s mom and dad. He had something in his hand, and Thomas craned to see if it was his book and key. He should have known by the smile on Uncle Frank’s face.

Doctor Flynn went to the foot of the bed and looked at the clipboard where the nurses wrote their notes. He lifted his head and smiled his best bedside smile. Let’s see how things go today, Thomas. I’ll be by this afternoon to check on you.

Thomas’s dad and mom followed him out, and he heard the low murmuring of their voices in the hallway.

Uncle Frank stepped up.

Uncle Frank, please...I want to go to Uwd.

I know, Tommy. His eyes were moist. Here, he said.

He slipped the book under Thomas’s arm and extended the leather necklace. Thomas caught a glimpse of the stone key dangling, and then Uncle Frank’s big hand wedged underneath his head to lift it so the necklace could go around.

The weight of the key dropped onto his breastbone.

And the room melted away.

Three

Uncle Frank strode through the bright hallways of the hospital and out into the sunlight. Cool winter air sifted through his beard.

A nurse beginning her day moved among the cars and caught sight of the big man in a flannel shirt, his heavy arms reaching upward to bring a leather necklace around his neck. To her eyes he did not change as he reached his truck and climbed up into the high cab. But in that moment Uncle Frank’s eyes were opened to a different world the nurse could not see, and instead of the cars of the parking lot he saw trees in an Uwdian forest, and to his ears the noises of cars and an airplane far up in the sky were lost to the tweets of birds and the swoosh of the breeze through pines.

How he could exist in both worlds at the same time would have been a mystery to the nurse, as it was to Uncle Frank. But exist in both worlds he did. What he did in Uwd influenced his life on earth as surely as what he did on earth influenced his life in Uwd. The places were intertwined in ways no one in either place understood, not even Uncle Frank, who had been traveling to Uwd since he was a child younger than his nephew Thomas was now.

The nurse’s eyes had not been opened to see how Uncle Frank’s appearance changed in Uwd. In Uwd, his flannel shirt was the blue robe of the King embroidered with symbols of eyes and ears and mouths, a robe flowing from his arms and around his stocky legs. His beard here was braided with beads woven in. His head was covered with a cloth cap, and he brandished his long white stick like a club for striking the King’s enemies. Here Thomas’s uncle walked as Eldad the seer, the King’s prophet, and here his glittering eyes flashed to see what enemies or friends of the King might be in view.

He stepped among the trees and uttered three words the nurse