Gates Below

By Jennifer M. Boucher

In a dingy cavern, the lights are low, the moisture is high and the air is stale. A deep, loud moan can be heard in the distance. The moment of silence after was quickly replaced with the echo of metal rolling across stone, bouncing as it rolled over the different layers of bedrock. The object rolls into the nearby magma, staying afloat as it travels down the scorching river. As the beast erupts, it takes little to no time for it to reach the burning surface of the volcano and into the warm night's air.

Follow as James Parker embarks on a quest that no one will ever imagine.

Inspired by Jeffrey A. Boucher.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Jul 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9780228880455

Jennifer M. Boucher

Born and raised in Bathurst, New Brunswick, I remember from an early age always writing something, whether it was a short story, story ideas, anything, putting my over-imagination onto paper. In my early twenties I met my now husband, Jeff, and we started a life together. We moved to Moncton, NB, back in 2002 for job opportunities and have recently moved back home. Home is truly where the heart is. After years of writing, my dream of becoming a published author has finally come to light with this book, "Gates Below." We hope you enjoy it as much as we did creating it.

Book preview

Gates Below

Jennifer M Boucher

Illustrations by: Jillian Lewis

Gates Below

Copyright © 2022 by Jennifer M Boucher

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-2288-8044-8 (Hardcover)

978-0-2288-8042-4 (Paperback)

978-0-2288-8045-5 (eBook)

Dedication

We would like to dedicate this book to our parents.

Acknowledgements

To my husband, Jeff. Here’s to the countless of hours on our many road trips, spitting out plot ideas, creatures, characters and scenes. This book truly wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for your brilliant imagination. Thank you and I love you.

Prologue

It was late August 2005 when James Parker, a single forty-three-year-old volcanologist, arrived at Mount Etna in Catania, Italy. He was one of the few privileged people to work at the site of the second most active volcano in the world, which had erupted just days earlier.

As he was collecting lava samples to bring back to the lab, as he normally did at any site, he carefully scraped the thin, grey layer of the lava and started scooping up the samples. As he went in for one more sample, his tool—a metal hammer head at one end and a large hook at the other—hit something hard. He was standing on a huge body of igneous rock, so of course he hit something hard, but this time it was different. He knew it the moment his tool contacted its hard surface.

He covered his face shield with his left hand, his huge, thick, grey glove nearly covering his entire face, and got as close as possible to the burning lava to quickly scooped it away from the object. The distinct sound of metal hitting metal rang in the warm summer air, and he knew he had located it.

He hooked the object over his tool’s pointed end and pulled hard. It came out bright red, as bright as the lava it lay in. He immediately dumped the heavy object into his white bucket, which was filled with room-temperature water, as he worried that the huge puff of smoke it created would draw some unwanted attention.

He grabbed the bucket’s handle and carefully carried it as fast as he could to the back of his pickup truck. He glanced down into the water, ready to find a huge hunk of dark rock alongside the samples he’d taken, but the brightness of its smooth, golden surface would outshine the sun herself. He nervously carried the bucket over toward the passenger door as the water splashed against his leg. He quickly unsuited, walked around, and got in.

He was there independently, so he didn’t really have to report anything to anyone or explain why he simply got up and left. The entire point of the university calling them in was to research anything they found, but he somehow knew this was going to be huge. You could call it a gut feeling.

He started driving toward the lab, contently looking down at the bucket sitting on the floor next to him and wondering what the heck he had just found. As he sat at a red light, he leaned over to look at the object one more time, its shine still so hypnotizing.

The light must have turned green because the sound of the car’s horn behind him snapped him out of the daze he was in. But instead of going straight, which led to the lab, he suddenly found himself turning left and heading to the motel.

He sat in the parking lot of the old motel for what felt like an hour, thinking about what to do next. If he followed his gut, he’d keep this to himself. This was something special, he just knew it. But the professional scientist he strove to be since graduating from university ten years ago told him to report it. One last look into the bucket and the answer was clear.

I’m keeping this to myself, he whispered as he flung the truck’s door open and rushed to the passenger side. Once he had the bucket in hand, he didn’t want to let it go. He hurried into the motel room, past the bedroom, and directly into the bathroom, where the light over the sink made for the best lighting he could find.

Take a deep breath, James. He had to keep reminding himself to breath as he stood in front of the sink with the bucket now sitting between his feet. He stared at his own reflection in the large mirror, his brown, wavy, shoulder-length hair falling in messy clumps across his forehead. With another deep breath, he glanced down into the bucket one more time. The object’s shape was distorted due to the slight movement of the water, but he could tell it was complete round.

He slowly reached wrist-deep into the warm water and wrapped his fingers around the object’s smooth and slippery surface. Its shape was similar to a huge, oversized ring. He stood in that position for a few heartbeats before lifting the heavy object out and quickly laying it into the sink, making sure to be extra careful not to damage any part of it as it filled the entire sink.

With both hands now gripping the edge of the small vanity, he took his first true look at the object. It was completely round, gold in colour, and about two to three inches thick. It was also the first time he noticed the half-inch thick spike sticking out about three inches and pointing toward the back of the sink. The entire object was completely smooth, other than that lightning-bolt-shaped spike sticking straight out.

What is it? he whispered as he leaned in for a closer look. Could it really be? Did I just find some sort of crown? What would a crown be doing encased in lava at the summit of a volcano? All those questions ran through James’ mind, but there was one that he couldn’t shake. Should he try it on? He glanced up at his reflection one more time before making his decision.

He slowly reached down and hovered both hands inches from its golden surface. With a deep breath, he carefully wrapped both hands around it. He stood there for a heartbeat and then lifted it up directly in front of him. He quickly let out the breath he had forgotten he was holding and started lifting the object up toward his head.

The very moment he felt its full weight on his head and glanced back up at the mirror, a bright flash of light filled his entire vision. His eyes were forced to stay open as all sorts of images flashed in front of him, playing like an old, distorted movie off the mirror. They appeared to be depicting places and objects. With another flash of bright light, the images faded, and he was left with his own reflection looking back at him once again.

He quickly removed the crown and, in one swift motion, tossed it onto the counter in disbelief. It hit hard before sliding across the smooth marble surface with a clunking sound and coming to rest hard up against the backsplash.

What the hell was that? Without breaking the stare he was holding with his own eyes, he frantically reached for the toilet, which sat to the right of the sink. He quickly closed the lid, finally breaking the stare, and sat.

The little pieces of the many imagines that he could remember made no sense to him at all. A dark cavern at an undisclosed location? A narrow river of magma? Lava pouring down the side of an unknown volcano? A breathtaking brick church? And a large, old opened book? What does all this mean?

1

The sounds of the cars driving by on the busy street just a few car-lengths away woke him. As he lay in bed, the Friday-morning sun shone through the small slits of the mini blinds on the large front window. The entire situation the evening before had kept him up nearly all night, so with another huge yawn, he suddenly found himself at the phone calling in sick to the lab. After a few minutes of playing sick, he quickly hung up the phone, yawned, and then made his way toward the bathroom.

The crown was still lying up against the backsplash, and James now felt bad for tossing it there. As he glanced down at it, he noticed that the three-inch lighting bolt spike that had stood straight out before was now bent upward toward the ceiling.

Oh shit, he whispered as he hesitated to pick it up, but he needed to know if he had broken it.

He spent the next few minutes simply staring at the crown, not knowing what to do with it. It was quite heavy, so he laid it across his left forearm as he started playing with the golden spike. He quickly realized that it wasn’t broken at all but simply bent upward. The base of the spike was shaped into two separate thin eye holes that flanked a small eye hole attached to the crown itself. The spike was held on by a small peg through the holes.

James was relieved that he hadn’t broken a potentially priceless artifact as he now stood with it in both hands, holding it like a car’s steering wheel. With all the excitement, he still hadn’t decided what to do with it. Should he call someone?

No! He quickly replied to his own silent question as a strong gut feeling surged within him. This was something big, and to tell just anyone about it would be foolish and irresponsible. He needed more information about it before jumping the gun.

I need to get to a library, he thought as he laid the crown back down into the safety of the sink.

He rushed back to the bedroom and got dressed in his blue jeans and a light grey hoodie, swung his trusted messenger bag across his chest, and headed out the door. The bright sun blinded him as he quickly shielded his eyes with his left arm and stopped in his tracks. He suddenly turned around, opened the door, and reached in for the Do Not Disturb sign and hung it on the outside door handle. After locking the door and trying it twice, he was finally content that the crown would be safe.

The library looked to be in an old prison with its cream colour, flat stone walls and indented windows with thick stone moldings. The front door had an even larger stone moulding around the black cast iron bars that framed the double doors.

The inside was completely different. With the main room as grand as a cathedral and just as breathtaking with its high, curved painted mural ceiling and open second storey balcony surrounding it, it was a true masterpiece. The dark-stained wooden shelves and the amount of molding around just about everything gave it a rich feel. James had to quickly remind himself why he was there in the first place before getting completely lost in her beauty.

He quietly walked around the main room in search of someone to ask about any old books on kings and queens. He thought that if he could find a picture of the crown, he’d be able to crack its mystery. He found a young lady placing books back onto the shelves and decided to ask her.

He quickly took out his phone and went to his trusted translator from English to Italian. He was just about to start typing the word book when the lady giggled and gently touched