By: M. E. Cunningham
Clean Teen Publishing
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The Eye of Tanúb
Copyright ©2014 M. E. Cunningham
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by: Marya Heiman
Typography by: Courtney Nuckels
Editing by: Cynthia Shepp & Jason Wited
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Acknowledgements
About the Author
It happened a year ago. It was real, and no one can tell me it wasn’t. Yeah, it sounds crazy, and if I hadn’t experienced it myself, I’d be the first in line to deliver me to the funny farm, which—funny you should ask—happened. But that’s a whole other story.
I’ve learned not to talk about it. Not with my parents, not with my friends, and especially not my therapist, who suggested I write it all down in a book, so that’s what I’m doing. Like a journal, but not. It’s a story. A true story.
The only person I can talk about it with is my younger brother, Zach, which is crazy, because if you’d known us before, you’d think we were mortal enemies. We couldn’t stand each other. Before.
We are only a year apart in age, so you’d think we’d be close. But no way. We are polar opposites, and still are, but we learned things in Terratir… things that changed us forever.
Zach. How do I describe him and not sound like a total snob? Okay. So maybe I am a snob. Was a snob. He thinks so, but… well… honestly… he was an idiot. A slob. A fat, insecure kid with a savior complex. He would come home from school on a daily basis with a black eye or a bruised-up body because he’d get into a fight that wasn’t his, and would duke it out with the school bully. A kid named Devon Taylor who just happened to worship me. But that’s a different story.
Zach couldn’t stand to watch little kids get caught in Devon’s sights. He’d step in, take their beating, and become the hero. I watched a few of those fights, but I never stopped them. I never stopped Devon. When I look back, I don’t know why.
At the time, I had other goals. I was going to be a model. I’d worked hard for it, counted every calorie, worked out every day. I had even put together a portfolio, which I’d been ready to submit, because I was almost sixteen, and we all know that’s the magic age for modeling.
Anyway, it happened on a Saturday morning. Zach had just polished off at least six gargantuan pancakes, which my mother had said nothing about—as though she wanted to fatten him up—and Zach had gone up to his room. I’d eaten a poached egg and half of a grapefruit, watching my figure and all, and then I’d gone up to my room, opened the door, and found my portfolio… scattered in tiny pieces all over the floor.
Every page ripped. Shredded. Destroyed. Two years of work flushed down the toilet. There was no way to fix it, and no way to describe the pain in my heart when I saw it. Most of the pictures had been stored on my old laptop that had died six months before, so I no longer had them, and in that one moment I’d lost everything.
I fell, shrieking, to my knees, tears of horrified surprise bursting in a torrent from my eyes. I scraped together the pictures, pulling them to me, none of them salvageable. Not one. Who could have done it? Who? There was only one person who hated me enough to destroy my dreams.
Zachary. His name tasted like bile in my mouth.
Racing to his room, I threw open his door, shocked at the force with which it hit the wall. Zach must have been stunned too, because he jerked around in surprise. He’d been sitting at his desk, the guts of his computer exposed, as though he’d been working on it.
“You’re dead!” I sobbed, but it came out more like a croak. Humiliating. Especially in front of him. He sat there, staring, his eyes bulging; his jaw working like there wasn’t anything intelligent going to come out of that mouth.
And then I lost it. Like a tiger pouncing, I launched myself at him, my claws extended. I was going to rip his throat out. He backpedaled in that stupid chair of his, but he wasn’t fast enough. I got to him before he could lumber out of the way. He did manage to shove me back though, and like a rag doll, I fell to the floor, snot running all over my face, mascara-smeared tears streaking my cheeks. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!”
He hopped up, quicker than you’d imagine possible for someone his size, and stood over me. “Lauren, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“My portfolio. It’s ruined. All over my floor!” The heartbreak I felt couldn’t even be described, and I didn’t even care that Zach saw me crying. There was nothing more anyone could do to hurt me at that point.
Zach stood before me, frozen, in what I can only assume was shock. “First of all, I didn’t touch your portfolio. It was probably Dingo. He ruined my science project just last week. And second, you hurt everyone around you, Lauren, and what goes around, comes around.” His eyes were hard, glinting with anger and something else… something I didn’t care to figure out back then.
How could he even think that? I didn’t hurt anyone. I was nice to everyone and believe me, it was super hard to hold my tongue at times. I knew as well as he did that Dingo was locked up in the back yard, and hadn’t done a dang thing to my portfolio. And that was when I noticed it. Tiny red lights dancing on the walls of his room, refracted from… from what? I searched the room and saw it lying on his nightstand by the bed.
A medallion. Gilded, with a giant ruby—like a monster pupil—in the center, staring straight up at the ceiling. And then I knew what I could do to get even for all the pain and heartache my stupid brother had caused. I could snatch that hulking gold necklace and keep it for myself as a consolation prize.
We leaped at the same time, reaching simultaneously, but Zach was a hair closer. Just a hair, and the chain of the medallion rolled, like magic, over his finger. My nails dug into his T-shirt, because I hadn’t lost yet, and I tried to pul
l him back.
And that was when it happened. That was when this story really began, and our lives changed.
Forever.
In the split second between me grabbing Zach’s shirt and his clenching the medallion in his fist, a light flashed. And I mean blindingly bright. Like lightning. And it filled the room, filled us. I felt the charge, as though I’d stuck my finger into a socket and defibrillated myself. The pain—unbearable for at least five seconds—coursed through me. Then tornado-like winds whipped past my face, blowing my waist-long, gorgeous blonde hair all around us.
And then we were falling.
Fast.
I could barely open my eyes, and Zach’s cheeks were billowing out like a blowfish’s. I would have laughed if I could have. And then the ground appeared. And I mean… it just appeared. Out of nowhere. I kid you not.
It rushed up toward us, my screams following us through the air. And just when I knew it was all over, I threw my arms in front of my face, hoping to protect one part of my body, so I’d at least be identifiable, and hopefully have an open-casket funeral.
But I did not slam into the ground and break into a million pieces. Don’t get me wrong. I hit the ground all right, but I bounced. Like on a trampoline. Trampoline grass. Yeah, you heard me right. I bounced, flying back into the air, my arms flailing wildly as I tried to regain my balance.
Zach, on the other hand, immediately figured it out and actually started jumping, propelling himself into the air on purpose. With each jump he made, it was harder for me to gain my footing.
I managed to crawl to a firmer spot where I sat, stunned, trying to catch my breath. Once Zach stopped bouncing, he opened his hand and, sure enough, that stupid pendant was still there, smoking in his palm. He glanced up at me, his eyes wide and staring. There wasn’t even a burn mark on his skin. As though it were a sacred artifact, requiring reverence, he placed the pendant around his neck and tucked it inside his shirt.
I shook my head. Who cared? Not me. I didn’t want that dumb necklace anymore anyway. I had a feeling it might be responsible for the electric shock I’d experienced. I didn’t want to touch it with a ten-foot pole.
I stood up and brushed myself off, looking around. I had no idea where we were. We certainly weren’t in Kansas anymore. We were in a jungle. Or the woods. Or a combination of the two. Thick-trunked trees were scattered everywhere, moss hanging from their outstretched branches like tired, old women carrying their veils in the still, hot air. Humidity coated my arms and curled my hair around my cheeks. I brushed it back, tucking the sticky strands behind my ears.
“Holy cow!” Zach said, mesmerized at the scene. He turned in a circle, his T-shirt soon soaked with sweat.
“What happened?” I asked. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t. Well, I’m not sticking around. I’m getting out of here.”
Zach turned around in surprise, his arms stretched out, with a frown creasing his brow. “But why? This place is awesome!”
Now, remember, Zach was only fourteen. Anything crazy or otherworldly was fascinating to him, and if he got run over by a Mack truck, he’d think he was on an adventure when he woke up in the hospital.
“Don’t you want to explore first?” he asked, not in any sort of hurry. “These woods are so beautiful, mysterious, and… and magical.”
That was enough for me. I turned and started trudging up the hill. I could tell there was a path of some sort just ahead, and in about five seconds, I would be on it, going home. I had plans for today, and they didn’t include hiking in the woods. I was going to the mall with my friends. And maybe to the movies, too.
The thought had crossed my mind that when I got that terrible electric shock it had knocked me out and, right at this moment, I was really lying unconscious, on Zach’s filthy bedroom floor. Hopefully, our mother would soon find us and call an ambulance.
Until that time though, I had to assume this experience was real, because it sure felt real. It did not feel like I was dreaming. And I should know. I always remembered my dreams. And never once had they been like this. With real sweat or bouncy grass.
I made it to the path, and Zach followed not far behind, mumbling about how awesome this place was, how familiar it felt, how it was a new and exciting adventure, and why the crap had his stupid older sister come along to ruin it?
At this point, I stopped and turned around, looking at him hard in the eyes, so he’d know I was serious. “I’ve just about had it, Zach. Shut the crap up.”
He didn’t even look at me. His eyes were trained down into a verdant valley to my right, where green grass sprawled, surrounded by a thick veil of trees. At the far end was a cave opening. Huge, gorilla-like beasts foraged through the thick brush, looking for food. They were giant Chewbaccas, milling around in assorted colors. Some with thick, reddish-brown fur, some with black, and a couple were snowy-white. The one thing they did have in common was that they were huge.
“What are those?” I asked in disgust. “They don’t look… normal.” And I could smell them from where we stood. Also not normal.
Zach watched them for a moment in openmouthed surprise. “You know, there’s a place I know of… with creatures like that.”
“Oh, really? And where would that be, Einstein?” I couldn’t help it. He was acting so stupid, and it was irritating. I vowed not to say another mean thing, because I didn’t like being rude… okay, so maybe Zach was right. Maybe I was a snob, but everyone knows how stupid little brothers can be…
“There’s this game I play,” he said finally. “And I wouldn’t believe it if I weren’t looking right at them, but… but those things look like… like… hilda beasts… from my game.” He turned to look at me, hesitant, like he knew I’d say something horrid or cruel.
I regarded him, my arms crossed over my chest, doing everything in my power to not say what was on the tip of my tongue. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. There’s no such thing as hilda beasts, and I’d know. I actually study. Unlike some people I know.”
Okay, so it was rude, but I could have said something worse, and like I said earlier, I used to be a snob. I’m not anymore. Just let me finish the dang story.
“Well, I have seen them before while playing my game,” he mumbled, walking away.
I shook my head and stared off into the distance, momentarily hypnotized. “This isn’t your game. This place is real… I think.” And somehow, I knew it was. I wasn’t dreaming. I wasn’t unconscious. No matter how much I would have rather been. Somehow, something was happening to us, and we really were on a new and exciting adventure, but I wasn’t about to admit it at that point. To anyone. Especially Zach.
We resumed our march along the path, and I’m sure Zach wished he could have left me behind with the hilda beasts, because he walked ahead of me, ignoring me. But I watched him as he examined the landscape and the huge flowers that lined the trail. Their seeded faces followed him as he walked, and I kept my eyes on their wide, yellow petals, unable to resist the temptation to reach out and touch one. Slowly, mesmerized, I wanted to feel their velvety softness. Just before I brushed the edge, Zach yelled.
“Stop! Don’t touch anything!” he hissed, running back to grab my hand. “These plants are poisonous. If you get too close, they’ll spit at you, making your skin boil and peel.”
I glanced around apprehensively. “Seriously, Zach? And you know this, how?” He could be right, after all. How would I know? As crazy as this whole situation was, who was to say what was real or not?
“Uh, well, I told you. There’s this game I play online…”
And then it registered. “Online? You mean on the computer? Oh man, you’re in big trouble,” I said with a slow smile.
“Can you stop being a freak for one second?” Zach scowled, turning away. He never could win an argument with me. But I motioned for him to continue with a flip of my hand, and since he couldn’t hold it in, he said in a ru
sh, “Okay, I play this game, online, and in it you have characters, and quests, and stuff like that. This place looks just like it. And those beasts will tear you to pieces if they catch you,” he said, pointing back down the hill to the Chewbacca’s. “Got that?”
“You know, online games are super addictive and will ruin your life.” I knew that firsthand. I had a friend, who just two months ago was admitted to computer game rehab. Yeah. It really exists. Game rehab. Who knew?
“You mean, kinda like modeling, Lauren? Thrown up lately?” He turned to walk away, not seeming to care if I followed.
And that was it. I lost it. I had never thrown up in my life, but his bringing it up, brought back the memory of my ruined portfolio, which in light of what we were going through, I’d forgotten about.
With a howl of rage, I screeched, “You’re the rudest person I know! Do you know that? The rudest! I’ve never thrown up!”
He turned, and I stared him down, my eyes burning into his like hot coals, my hands fisted at my side. I was definitely ready to punch something. Maybe him. He ran to cover my mouth, and I struggled in his grasp, which still tasted like pancake syrup.
“Be quiet!” he growled while glancing over his shoulder. One of the hilda beasts stared up at us with black, slitted eyes, and an icy chill crept up my spine. Both Zach and I froze. The animal lifted its nostrils, sniffing, and took a step forward, grunting and attracting the attention of the herd.
“Oh no,” Zach moaned. “Run!” He grabbed my hand, and we took off down the path, running harder than I ever had before. Zach’s chest heaved, and I could tell he could barely catch his breath, but that was mainly because he was so chubby and out of shape. I, on the other hand, ran beside him without a word of complaint.
I chanced a glance over my shoulder to see half a dozen hilda beasts giving chase, the biggest in the lead with amber fangs dripping saliva. My thighs started to burn like fire, and a cramp stabbed through my side. I wasn’t used to this. I was slender, but I wasn’t on the track team, and I couldn’t leap tall buildings in a single bound. I was going to be a model. I didn’t need muscles. In fact, I wasn’t supposed to have any for that job.