The Legend of the Rift by Peter Lerangis Page A

touching the Loculus. “‘I shall be sure that this record travels with them,’” he read, “‘hidden in a place unknown to any crew member but Burt, and in alanguage none of the crew will understand, hoping that someday, some kind scholar will record this for posterity. . . .’”
    â€œâ€˜ In nomine Patri fili et spiritus sancti blah, blah, blah,’” Eloise said, scowling with frustration.
    â€œThat’s a sacred prayer, watch it,” Cass said.
    â€œHmmph,” Eloise replied. She flopped onto the floor with her hands under her face like a pillow. “Good night.”
    Aliyah found someone’s jacket on the floor, rolled it up, and placed it under Eloise’s head. “We have a few hours before sunrise,” she said. “Rest will do us all good.”
    â€œNema,” Cass said with a yawn.
    â€œThat means ‘amen,’” Marco said. “And I didn’t even need the Loculus of Language.”
    A few more of the Massa and rebels had already curled up against the walls of the hospital lobby. Some of the sicker ones were in the rooms off the balcony, being treated by Brother Asclepius.
    But as wiped as I felt, I couldn’t stop. It was as if the words were leaping off the page to me, like prisoners sprung from jail. They kept me awake, beckoning me deeper and deeper into Wenders’s story, into his observations and theories. “Just a few more minutes,” I said.
    The hospital clock behind us chimed eleven.
    Bong . . .
    Bong . . .
    Bong . . .
    No. It couldn’t be.
    Bong . . .
    Four o’clock. What was I thinking?
    I rubbed my eyes. I was the only one still awake in the lobby. Even Brother Asclepius was sprawled out on a gurney like a dead man.
    I had just read about Herman Wenders’s toenail fungus and his opinions about proper mustache grooming. The guy must have been totally bored all alone in this hot place.
    But I also learned about secret passages in Mount Onyx and tunnels that ran through the jungle. I saw a list of all the creatures that Massarym had assigned to protect the Loculi. Supposedly the protector of the Pyramid Loculus was none other than the Sphinx, but maybe I’d read that one wrong. That old statue, as far as I knew, was still standing.
    I’d copied some of the stuff down and ripped out pages of the journal to take with me in case we needed them. Still, as far as any clue about the rift, any hint about rescuing Aly, I had come up blank.
    I would have been better off sleeping.
    The room was spinning. Even if I slept now, the others were going to wake up in an hour or two. Me? I was going to be a basket case.
    â€œ Arrrghh . . .” I picked up one of the journals and threw it against the wall in frustration. It hit with a thud, and Casswoke up with a start.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
    â€œGo back to sleep,” I said, plopping myself on the floor. “I’m fine.”
    Cass scrambled to pick up the journal. “Did you find anything useful?”
    â€œNo,” I grumbled, shutting my eyes tightly. “Good night.”
    â€œWell, I’m awake now,” Cass said, leafing through the pages. “If you give me the Loculus, I can pick up where you left— What the—?”
    I let one eye pop open. Cass was staring at a page in the journal. “Did you see this?”
    I crawled to his side. The journal was open to a page that showed all seven Loculi arranged in the Heptakiklos. Under it was a numbered list that included the words VOLATUS and INVISIBILIS. From the hours of reading, I remembered enough to know the first meant flight , and the second was obvious. Invisibility .
    I grabbed the Loculus of Language and stuck it between us. Both Cass and I held onto it and waited for the words to become clear.
    I read aloud an inscription at the top of the page. “‘Although my memory fades, I must attempt to reconstruct the