Prologue

The Great Darkness’ Minions were gathering in a stand of trees beyond the field that bordered the rear wall of the main temple’s courtyard.

Two priests, one dressed in a white hooded robe and the other in a black hooded robe, stood in a small room on the main temple’s second floor.  They were looking out of the room’s single window.  The multiplying number of red, beady eyes glared back like burning lasers.

“They’ve never come so close before,” the white-robed priest said.  “They’ve always stayed away.  The village’s powers have always protected us.  But now they are getting more bold.  We have to do something.”

            “We need the crystal,” the black-robed priest replied.

            “You’re right.  Without it, there is no way to reenergize the temple village and The Land will continue to be unprotected.”

            “Perhaps The Great Darkness senses this and has sent its Minions to take advantage of this opportunity?”

            “All of the villagers are gathered in the big room.”

            “Yes.  We’ll lead them in pray.  We’ll pray for the return of the crystal and with it safer times.”

            They turned from the window, went across the room and out into the hallway.  They walked toward the stairs that led down to the big room.  As they descended the steps, the hum of the villagers’ voices immediately ceased.   Everyone, crammed elbow to elbow throughout the room, looked toward the stairs.

            As they reached the landing, the black-robed priest slid into the shadows and disappeared.  The white-robed priest continued forward and went through the crowd to the center of the room.

He paused and raised his hands.

Everyone went silent.

Then the white-robed priest spoke.

            “Troubled times are upon The Land.  The Great Darkness’ Minions are threatening the goodness and piece that we have so carefully nurtured.  This is why I have summoned you here tonight.  We must join together.  We must recall the history of Nas and his protection of The Land.  We must pray for the coming of Nasto.  We must pray for him to come to The Land and bring with him the crystal.”

Chapter One

            Natty was avoiding working on his English assignment.  He was lying on his bed in his room.  He was thinking of his grandfather.

Since finishing dinner he had done everything but focus on the assignment.

            He had played video games.

            He had read comic books.

            He had e-mailed some friends.

He had just finished watching a video of the last trip that he and his grandfather had taken to Pennypack Park where every Saturday morning.  Whenever his grandfather wasn’t away on one of his sales trips, they went to the Nature Center on Verree Road and walked along the trail to where a giant, old oak tree overhung the creek. 

            Natty really missed his grandfather.

He remembered sitting on one of the hard, wooden, folding chairs that were lined up in rows facing the front of the room where everyone was gathered for his grandfather‘s funeral.  His grandmother, his dad, his mom, his aunts and uncles, his cousins and many of the people who had known his grandfather had all been standing or sitting in small groups around the room.  As they talked of their fond memories of his grandfather, Natty stared at the closed casket.  He imagined his grandfather lying inside sleeping, his large chest rhythmically rising and falling with each breath.  Up and down.  Up and down.  Like the washing in and washing out of waves on a beach.

            But his grandfather’s chest wasn’t rising and falling.  His grandfather was dead.  But his body wasn’t in the casket.

            Since coming to the United States when he was a teenager, Natty’s grandfather had been a traveling salesman.  It was during a sales trip seven years ago that his car went off of the road and into a canal.  There was a storm and the canal’s waters were high and fast-moving.  According to the police investigators, after going into the canal his grandfather had taken off his seatbelt and opened the car window.  He had tried to get out of the car and swim to safety.  But he didn’t make it.  The water was too strong.  The police said that it had looked like the strong current had pulled his grandfather from the car and swept him along the canal.  Most likely, his body was swept down into where the canal emptied into the river, which then went down to the ocean.

            His grandfather’s body was never found.

            Hundreds of people had flowed through the funeral home to pay their respects with many more lined up at the doorway and down the driveway.  Arrangements of flowers bordered both sides of the casket.  There were so many flowers that the attendants had to place many of them into the next room.  Some of the arrangements had ribbons pinned across them with words like ‘In Memory of,’ ‘Sympathy,’ and ‘Condolences.’  Natty didn’t particularly like these.   He preferred the ones with ‘Pop Pop,’ ‘Brother,’ and ‘Dad.’  But if he had to pick a favorite, it would have been the ‘Nas’ ribbon.  For as far back as Natty could remember, that was what his grandfather’s friends had called him.  It came from the initials of his grandfather’s name, Nathaniel Albert Shortfellow.

Natty was named after his grandfather.  When Natty was around five or six, his grandfather started to call him ‘Nas the Second’ or ‘Nasto.’  But Natty didn’t like this.  He preferred ‘Natty.’  So his grandfather gave up on trying to get the ‘Nasto’ nickname to stick.  It was the only time that Natty could ever remember disagreeing with his grandfather.

Natty squeezed back the tears that were stinging his eyes.  He really missed his grandfather.

He missed the smell of his grandfather’s unique combination of too much Old Spice after shave, Primavera cherry pipe tobacco and Kiwi black shoe polish.

He missed their walks.

He missed sitting together at their favorite spot.

He missed their talks and the advice that his grandfather offered.

He missed everything about his grandfather.

Natty muffled a cry and buried his face into his pillows, forgetting about his English assignment.

Chapter Two

Everything was dark.  He couldn’t see a thing.  What was going on?

Suddenly lights flashed on.

Then they went off again.

Then they went on again.

Then they went off again.

Then they went on again.  This time, they stayed on.

“C’mon, man, I’m hungry,” Reggie called into the boys’ bathroom.

Relief poured through Natty at the sound of his best friend’s voice.  He was still groggy and a little disoriented.  He felt like he was in a different time zone from everyone else.  He had overslept and had to rush out of the house and to school without breakfast and without taking a shower or changing his clothes.

“Geez, Reggie, you almost made me crap my pants,” Natty said as he finished drying his hands.  “Remind me again, why are we friends?  I swear that I should get community service credits for hanging out with you.”

He tossed the paper towel into the trashcan then headed toward Reggie, who was standing half in and half out of the bathroom doorway.

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re a real saint to be with.  C’mon, let’s drop our books in our lockers and head to the cafeteria.  I’m starving.”

Natty and Reggie put their books in their lockers and headed toward the cafeteria.

Twelve years ago, Reggie’s family moved into the house next to Natty’s on Shelmire Street.  Since then, Natty and Reggie had been inseparable, both in their neighborhood as well as at Rhawnhurst Elementary School, Wilson Junior High School and now as freshmen at Northeast High School.  Although to look a the two of them, you wouldn’t think that they had anything in common or would even like each other.  Natty had blue eyes and straight, blond hair.  Reggie had brown eyes and close-cut, curly, brown hair.  Natty was nearly six feet tall with a slender, athletic build.  Reggie was barely five feet four inches tall.  Natty would soon take his test for another black belt level in Karate and he was on the Northeast High’s gymnastics and cross country teams.  Reggie, who carried about 50 pounds more than Natty’s 135 pounds, considered carrying books to and from the library his exercise.

            “Oh man, I thought for sure that Simpson was going to pound you in English class.  You’re so lucky that the bell rang and you were able to get out of the room before he caught up with you.”  Reggie said, after they had gone through the cafeteria line and selected their lunch.  They were now sitting at one of the tables in the lunchroom.

            Simpson was the captain of the high school football team, the baseball team and the track team.  And, he was a grade-A, number one jerk.  Simpson believed that being the school’s top jock gave him the right to push everyone else around.

“Well, I thought it was a valid question,” Natty defended.  “‘What’s Your Destiny’?  What kind of assignment is that for Mr. Haas to give us?  We’re only in 10^th grade.  How can we know what our destiny is?  We haven’t even graduated high school.”

“You heard Mr. Haas, he said that it would provide us with the opportunity to open up our minds.  He said that we should consider the possibilities about what could be.  And, he said that no answer was wrong.  So what‘s the problem?  No answer is wrong!”

“C’mon, giving us that kind of assignment and on a Friday?  You don’t think that was a little much?  And I still don’t understand why Simpson got so bent out of shape.  Heck, if he engaged his little brain for even a minute, then he would have realized that I was trying to get Mr. Haas to cancel the assignment.  If you ask me, it’s time for Haas to retire.   Last week he makes us read that goofy story by Andy Pierce.  What was it called, ‘An Occasion At Outhouse Bridge’?  Who wants to read a story about a guy getting hanged?  That‘s really a happy tale.”

“It was ‘An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge’ and it was by Ambrose Bierce, not Andy Pierce,” Reggie corrected.  “And, obviously, you didn’t even read it.  Because if you did, then you’d know that it wasn’t just about a guy being hanged.”

“Hey, I’m not arguing with you.  We both know that you’re the reader and I’m the doer,” Natty said.  “But I still think Haas is past his prime and that Simpson overreacted.”

“He probably figured that your questioning Mr. Haas about the assignment would make Haas give us even more homework.”

“I doubt that Simpson even put that much thought in to it.  I think he just figured that it was as good a time as any to get pissed off at me.  You know that he’ll use any excuse to try and pound me.  Oh look, there’s a cloud in the sky, I’m going to punch Natty.  Since we were in grade school, Simpson has always had a bull’s eye painted on my back.”

            “You’re probably right,” Reggie agreed.

            “Hey, and what was up with Laura?”  Natty asked.

            Laura Banford had also lived on Natty’s block since they were infants.  They were friends, but for some time now Natty had wanted to make it boyfriend and girlfriend.  But he was afraid that she might not feel the same as he did.

            “Yeah, that was a whole new side of Laura that we saw today,” Reggie said.  “She took a chance sticking up for you like that.  I think she may have finally realized that you both live on the same planet.”

“Great.  Now I just have to get up enough nerve to ask her out.”

“Hey, ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained'.  If I’ve told you once, then I’ve told you a dozen times, just go up to her and say, ’hi, I like you, let’s go out.  What’s the worst that she could say?”

“No.  She could say no.  That’s what.”

“And, of course, that would mean the end of your world as you know it, right?”

“Who are you to be giving advice about romance?  I don‘t see you dating anyone.”

“I’ve chosen to live vicariously through you,” Reggie responded.  “So I repeat, would it be so terrible if she said no?”

“Being pounded by Simpson would be less painful.”

“Well, you may get your wish.  I don’t think that Simpson is done with you yet.  He had fire in his eyes when you snuck out of class before he caught up with you.  So tell me again, why do you keep running away from him?”

“What, I’m supposed to do, stand still and be his personal punching bag?”

“No, don’t be silly.  All I’m saying is that you haven’t been taking Karate lessons for the last ten years for nothing.  I’ve seen you a lot of times kick butt big time in your class.  I’ve seen you break wood planks and cement bricks.  Heck, now you’re even using all kinds of weapons like you were a Kung Fu master.  I’m not saying that you’re Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan or Chuck Norris.  But you’re the baldest, toughest guy that I know.  If Simpson were smart, he should be afraid of you.”

“Kung Fu and Karate are two different forms of martial arts,” Natty corrected.  “And, I’m not afraid of Simpson.”

“Well you sure could have fooled me.  He always seems to have you in his sights and you never stand up to him and defend yourself.  Karate is self-defense, isn’t it?”

“That’s not why I take Karate classes.”

“Oh, I see, you don’t take self-defense classes for self defense.  What is it?  You like the outfits?  You like hugging other guys?  Is that the real reason why you won‘t ask out Laura?”

“My grandfather introduced me to Karate, you know that?  He was a black belt himself.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I forgot,” Reggie said, remembering how sensitive Natty was about his grandfather.

“And it also has made me better at gymnastics, not to mention the control it gives me with skateboarding and snowboarding moves,”  Natty continued to defend.

“All I’m saying is that if I had half of the skill that you do, then Simpson wouldn‘t bother me more than once.”

“And if you tried Karate, then maybe you would have even less than half of that tire around your waist.”

“Hey, hey, now that was just mean.  You know that I have a sweating problem.”

“What an eating problem?  Is that what you said?”  Natty pressed.

“No, you heard me, I said a sweating problem.  I exercise, I sweat, I don‘t like it, therefore, it‘s a problem.”

“Okay, time to change the subject?”  Natty said, feeling bad about picking on Reggie’s weight.  That was the kind of thing that Simpson would do, not him.  “Did you see my new backpack?”

Natty picked his backpack up from off of the floor where the pack was leaning against his chair leg.  He set it on the table.

“Cool, you got the one that you wanted.  I thought that you were carrying a new one.”

“It’s not for carrying my school books.  As a matter of fact, it‘s filled with my camping stuff.  I ran out of the house so fast this morning that I grabbed it instead of the one with my books.”

“Look at all of these pockets,” Reggie admired,

“That’s the main reason that I got it.  My Swiss Army knife fits in this little pocket on the top flap and I’ve got a flashlight in this pocket.  A first-aid kit is in this pocket and I have a climbing rope in here.  And my survival manuals all fit into the first of these two large, main pockets.”

Natty unzipped this pocket and took out three paperback books and held them out to Reggie.  He took them from Natty and read their titles.

“The Handbook of the Boy Scouts of America?  The Department of the Army’s Survival Guide?  The Wilderness Survival Guide?  Why do you have these?  You’ve practically memorized the Scouting Handbook.  Heck, you’ve got, remind me again, how many merit badges?  Oh, that’s right, you’ve got practically all of them.  And what are these other books for?  I know that you want to be an Army Ranger.  But that’s not until after college.  Or, has something changed and no you are planning to forget about college so that you can get an assignment in the middle of nowhere?”

“They’re for my camping trip,” Natty explained, putting the books back into his pack.

“Camping trip?”  Reggie said, confused.  “We’re just going to Treasure Island.  We’ve been there almost a dozen times.  Why do you need those books?”

            “I don’t need them for next weekend.  It’s not for the camping trip with our scout troop.  I need them for this weekend.  My parents are going out of town for their anniversary.  They’ll be gone until Sunday night.  So I’m going to Pennypack Park tonight and camping out until Sunday afternoon.  Do you want to come with me?”

            “No thanks.  I‘ll be working on a little thing called an English assignment.  Remember?  It’s due on Monday.  Just because Mr. Haas was out today, I wouldn’t bet on him being out on Monday too.  And even if he is, he will eventually be back and you’ll have to hand in the assignment.  So instead of camping you should be thinking about writing the paper.”

            “I’ll do it on Sunday after I get back.  There’s no point in torturing myself with it until then.”

             “Well, then have fun sleeping on the ground.  Me, I’m going to Toys ‘R Us after school to check out the new Black Darkness video game.  Do you want to come with me?  It‘s on the way home.”

            “Yeah, I’ll walk with you.  I saw a preview on the Internet and it looks pretty cool.  But I can’t hang with you to check out the game.  I want to get home and head off to Pennypack Park as soon as I can.”

            “Okay.  After class let’s meet at your locker,” Reggie said as the bell rang ending their lunch period.

            They picked up their trays and carried them toward the trashcan.

“Do you have the crystal with you?”  Reggie asked as they dropped off their trays and headed down the hallway toward their next class.

            “Yeah, it’s in my pants pocket,” Natty said.

“Cool, I want to take another look at it after school.”

Chapter Three

Every Saturday morning, Natty and his grandfather used to go to Pennypack Park.  They would park at the nature center on Susquehanna Road and walk along the path along Pennypack Creek from the center to their favorite spot near an old oak tree that had grown at the creek‘s edge.  Even since his grandfather had passed away seven years ago, Natty had continued to make the weekly trip, either by walking or riding his bike to the park.  It was his way of keeping in touch with his grandfather, who he sincerely missed.

Last Saturday, as he was sitting next to the old oak and thinking about his grandfather, Natty had noticed something sparkling in the sunlight amongst the tree‘s roots that were sticking out of the ground.  Moving closer, he saw that it was a crystal.  It was about three inches long and as thick as his thumb.  It was transparent with a slightly yellowish tint deep inside.  A worn piece of leather string was looped through a small, crude hole that had been drilled into the crystal’s flat end.

Natty had immediately thought of his grandfather and how he would have been intrigued by such a find.  So he decided to keep the crystal.

            “This crystal is so cool,” Reggie said, holding the stone in his hand as they walked along Cottman Avenue toward Toys ‘R Us.

“Wouldn’t it be neat to find out who the crystal belonged to?  Like some Indian warrior?”  Reggie suggested, continuing to admire the stone.  “You know, Algonquin tribes used to live in this area.”

“The Algonquin’s, huh?”  Natty teased, as they turned left at the intersection of Castor Avenue and headed toward the driveway that led to the Toys R’ Us parking lot and store entrance.  “I know that you’re the egghead and not me.  But weren’t the Algonquin’s a farming tribe?  If the crystal did belong to an Algonquin, then it was probably one of the squaws and she dropped it one day when she was at the creek washing clothes or getting water or doing some other chore.  Anyway, I don’t really care about the crystal’s history.  I’m keeping it because I found it at my grandfather’s and my favorite spot in Pennypack Park.”

“Last night my brother came by the house for dinner and I gave him the Polaroid picture that I took of the crystal,” Reggie said.  “I asked him if he would show it to the curator at the University of Pennsylvania Museum.”

“What ever made him want to be an art history major, anyway?  I don’t know who is stranger, you or Freddie.  But there is definitely no denying that you’re related to each other.  You‘re both bookworms.”  Natty said.

They crossed at the intersection of Cottman and Castor Avenues.  Then they turned left and went up the east side of Castor Avenue to the driveway that led to the Toys ‘R Us parking lot and store entrance. 

“Well I want to know more about the crystal even if you don‘t,” Reggie shrugged, handing it back to Natty.

“Here’s Toys ‘R Us,” Natty announced, looping the leather string over his head and letting the crystal hang against his chest.  “What are you laughing at?”

“You.  The crystal looks funny around your neck.”

“And why is that?”

“Well look how you’re dressed.”                           

“What your problem with my clothes?”

“No problem.  It’s just that you’re wearing your usual skateboarder stuff.  You know, your over-sized tee-shirt, your baggy, zip-off cargo pants with all of the pockets, and your sneakers.”

“Yeah.  So?”

“Well, then you have that crystal hanging around your neck.  It’s just that I picture the crystal around the neck of someone dressed in a tie-dyed tank top with cut-off jeans and sandals.  You know, like a peacenik or love-child or something like that.”

“You are so weird.  Go play with your video games before someone sees us together and mistakes us for friends.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?  I’m telling you, the Black Darkness game is awesome.”

“No, you go have fun.  I’m going camping.”

“Suit yourself,” Reggie said, stepping toward the store‘s sliding doors.  “I‘ll stop by your house on Sunday and you can show me how much of the English assignment you haven‘t done.”

“Funny.  Funny.  Funny,” Natty said as the store’s doors swished open and Reggie went inside.

Natty adjusted the backpack strap on his shoulder and headed across the parking lot toward Large Street.

            “Yo, Gymnastics-boy, I’ve been looking for you,” Natty suddenly heard Simpson’s voice boom from behind him.  “We’ve got some unfinished business to take care of.”

            With his heart pounding against his chest and a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Natty took off toward the loading dock ahead of him to the left of the Toys R’ Us store.  He figured that if he could get past the loading dock and then the Dutch Bakery next to the loading dock and then out to the sidewalk that ran along Cottman Avenue, he might be able to get across Large Street and into one of the stores in the strip beyond the Seamans furniture store.  This was his only chance to get away from Simpson.  Natty was an endurance runner.  So he wasn’t very fast in the short distance.  Simpson, on the other hand, held their high school’s records for the 100 and 200 yard dashes.

            Without looking back, Natty made it to the sidewalk, turned left and ran right into a pile of dirt from a gas line construction on one of the stores.  He fell face first into the dirt.

He scrambled back to his feet and without taking the time to dust off the dirt that covered him from head to toe, he headed toward the intersection of Cottman Avenue and Large Street, a half a block away.  He got there just as the intersection’s traffic light was changing from yellow to red, allowing the traffic on Large Street to move.

            Natty pushed his legs to give him all he had and he rushed across Large Street.

            “So you want to play a little game of ’cat and mouse,’” Natty heard Simpson yell.

            Still he didn’t slow or look back.  But he hoped that Simpson was caught at the red light on the other side of Large Street.

            Natty headed toward the strip of stores and jumped up the two steps that led to the sidewalk in front of the stores.  He went past the Hollywood Video and Discount Outlet stores, then, sensing that Simpson would soon be coming around the corner of the Seaman‘s store, Natty stopped at the entrance to the Men’s Warehouse clothing store.  He yanked the glass door open and dashed inside.

            He quickly went halfway down the store’s main aisle before he slowed and looked around for a place to hide.  He cut to his right, and then headed toward a circular rack of raincoats positioned near the wall in front of a full-length mirror.

He ducked into the center of the rack and quickly rearranged the coats so that he couldn’t be seen.  Then with his breath shallow and his heart racing within his chest, he waited.  He didn’t have a direct view of the front door.  But he could see the door’s reflection in the mirror.

As he waited, he unconsciously raised his hand to the crystal hanging around his neck.  He nervously rolled it back and forth between his fingers.  Then, he saw the front door open.  But it wasn’t just Simpson.  With Simpson were Fred Blakely and Chris Vogel, two muscle-bound defensive lineman who listened to Simpson like he was a god.

            “Did you see where he went?”  Simpson barked at the other two.  “He’s got to be in here somewhere.  Let’s find him and get him outside.  It‘s time he gets what he‘s got coming.”

            “What do you boys want?” Natty saw a salesman approach the boys.  “You can’t be in here if you’re not going to buy something.”

            “Stay out of our way, old man,” Simpson snarled.  “We‘re looking for someone.  Did you see a kid with blond hair come in here?”

            “No.  Now you must leave,” the salesman said, nervously standing up to the three football players.  “I don’t want any trouble.  But if you don’t leave now, then I’m, I’m going to have to call the police.”

            “C’mon, man, let’s get out of here.  We don‘t need that kind of trouble,” Vogel said.  “Maybe he didn’t come in here.”

            “Did I ask you for your opinion?”  Simpson snapped.

“There he goes,” Blakely suddenly yelled, pointing toward the other end of the store.  “I just saw him go out the back door.”

            “What,” Simpson snarled, pushing past Vogel and the salesman.  “Don’t just stand there!   Go get him!”

Simpson, Blakely and Vogel headed toward the far end of the store and went out of the store’s rear door.  It was out of the view of the mirror.  So Natty didn’t actually see them go out.  But he heard the swish of the door opening and then shutting again.

Still he didn’t move.

One minute passed.  Then another.  But he remained hidden in the coat rack.  It would be just like Simpson to have sent Blakely and Vogel outside while he stayed in case Natty was still in the store.

Finally, Natty cautiously pushed the raincoats aside and climbed out.  He stood up and looked around.  There were no signs of Simpson or the others.  It seemed safe.  No one was around.  Strangely, not even the salesman.  But all Natty cared about was getting out of the store and to his house.  He started toward the door, but then his attention was pulled to the crystal.  It felt like it was vibrating.  He opened his hand to look at the stone.  It was vibrating, he confirmed.  And, the yellowish tint inside of the stone was now a glowing light.

As he stared at it, the crystal nearly jumped out of his hand.

Natty quickly closed his fingers around the crystal as its vibrations intensified.

The crystal pulled him toward the mirror.  He tried to lock his legs and keep himself from being pulled forward.  But he couldn’t.  The crystal was too strong.

He lost his balance at fell at the mirror.

He reached out to stop his fall.  But instead of hitting the mirror, his hands and arms went through the glass.  He was falling through the mirror.

As he helplessly went forward, Natty saw that there was no reflection in the glass.  He didn’t see himself or anything in the store.  The mirror was filled with some kind of swirling darkness.  Then everything went black.

Chapter Four

Natty’s whole body hurt.  He had landed hard.

He opened his eyes.

He couldn’t see anything.  Darkness was all around.  But he could feel that he was laying face down on what felt like moist dirt.  The air around him was damp too.

He didn’t think he was in the clothing store anymore.  So where was he?