Journey Through the Mirrors (45 page)

“What people?”

Anita shook her head, unsure. “We have to get closer.”

“Are you bonkers?” Britney whispered. “What we need to do is get out of here.”

“Come on.” Anita was not deterred by her friend’s trepidation. She left the cover of the pillars and moved down a side corridor running parallel to the nave. Britney reluctantly followed. The girls ducked down and tiptoed their way from pillar to pillar. They finally came to a stop behind a massive, intricately carved sarcophagus and squatted down. A placard on the stone monument indicated that it belonged to Bishop Beauchamp, who had died in 1481.

Anita and Britney peered around the sarcophagus and saw Sebastian standing in front of a uniquely designed water font. It was a cruciform vessel roughly three meters wide and a meter and a half tall, crafted from bronze, with faded green oxidation on its surface. Streams of water flowed from its four corners, and its shiny surface reflected the cathedral’s architecture and the colorful stained-glass windows. Next to Sebastian sat Bukya, ever watchful. Standing across from them were two men and two women. Anita and Britney were close enough to eavesdrop.

“You are failing, Sebastian,” one of the men said. “We warned your parents, and now we give you the same warning. The house of Quinn should have allowed the world to falter after the Great Disruption. Nature is speaking again as it did then, but your house chooses not to listen.”

Sebastian remained silent. A woman with short red hair said, “Makesh is correct. Had your parents allowed what was necessary to
occur, they would still be alive today, and we would not be dealing with such an ominous threat to the earth itself.”

Makesh?
thought Anita. That was the name she and Halima had come across in Sebastian’s parents’ autobiography. He had been Sebastian’s teacher.

“The ill-fated Rising is over,” Makesh added. “Mankind could not stand but a single generation before reverting back to its selfish and arrogant patterns of life. This should be evident to you now.”

“A great storm is coming,” the second man said. “And I see that this latest threat will finish what was left undone by the Great Disruption. I advise you not to interfere. A new age for mankind will be ushered forth. Much that requires cleansing shall be cleansed.”

Anita watched Bukya leave Sebastian’s side and approach the woman who had remained silent. She had long blond hair that fell to the small of her back and knelt down gracefully at the dog’s approach, greeting him with a gentle stroke across the fur and a rub of the ears. It was clear that these two were not strangers. The woman whispered something to Bukya, causing him to press his nose to her cheek.

“There is nothing new under the sun or on the lands of earth for these people, Sebastian,” said the other woman with the short red hair. “They have abused this planet for far too long. It is time for it to end. It is time for this lot to pass into the annals of time and for a new group to come forward. Why do you resist the cycles that have been taking place since time immemorial?”

Sebastian spoke for the first time. “We are not separate from them, Satia. There are more things between heaven and earth than are dreamt of in even
our own
philosophy.” He gestured to the font with both hands. “The flowing water of this altar knows this truth. Even if you watch the water fall for a thousand years, the streams will never be the same. Each cascade, each tumble, is made from different droplets of different rains of different rivers and of different tears. No, Satia,” Sebastian said, lowering his arms, “everything is always different and ever-changing under the sun. And should one ever become bored by
what one sees under the light of Ra, one should then be implored to appreciate the world by the light of the moon.”

Who are these people?
Anita wondered.
They are so cold to let the world suffer.
She watched as Bukya walked back over to Sebastian.

The woman with the long blond hair rose to her feet and spoke, her voice gentle. “You speak as you always have, Sebastian. But you cannot deny, as Qumron said, that the world is not clean. You cannot deny that a change must take place.”

“A change is taking place,” Sebastian said. “There are those fighting for their land as we speak.”

“But not enough of them,” said the second man, the one named Qumron. “Most are unaware of what is currently taking place around them, just as they were unaware of what was coming forty years ago.”

“The populace doesn’t even question why thousands died a few short months ago,” Makesh said. “They have no idea that they all walk around with altered DNA.”

“Altered DNA?” Britney whispered. “What is he talking about?”

Anita didn’t answer her, even though she was well aware of what Makesh was talking about.

“They have been lied to,” Sebastian said.

“Being lied to does not excuse people from responsibility,” Qumron said. “People know deep down when they are being deceived; they choose to ignore it because it’s the expedient thing to do.”

“We love the world as much as you do,” Satia said. “But sometimes the end must be allowed to come so that a new beginning can unfold. That is why nature spoke so loudly during the Great Disruption.”

“Your efforts and those of your parents have only staved off the inevitable,” Qumron said. “The blue orb is fickle, Sebastian. The Quinns have benefited from its presence. But you know as well as the rest of us that this prosperity will not last indefinitely.”

“So the brotherhood would see humanity perish?” Sebastian asked. “How—”

“If need be, yes,” Satia interrupted with her voice raised. “It will not have been the first time.”

“That cannot always be the answer, Satia,” Sebastian said. “There must come a time when the solution of extinction is wiped off the table of options.”

“I know what you are thinking, Sebastian,” Makesh said. “You cannot have the Brahmastra. That device has not been used in a very long time and will not be allowed now.”

“What are they talking about?” Britney whispered into Anita’s ear. “What device?”

“Shhhh,” Anita said, noticing that Bukya’s ears had perked up, his eyes alert.

“The Brahmastra? No, you can’t have that,” Qumron said. “Even your parents would have given you the same counsel. The Altar of the Bluestones has aged. And the utility of the Brahmastra would be unpredictable at best.”

“The Brahmastra will stay sealed,” Satia said.

“I am not asking for the device, nor do I need it,” Sebastian said.

“Then why did you call us here?” Makesh asked.

“To ensure your noninterference,” Sebastian said.

“Noninterference?” Satia repeated. “You will not get any interference from us. With what is about to happen to the earth’s voice, the final chapters of the Great Disruption will finally be written. Why would we interfere with that?”

“Let the world go, Sebastian,” the woman with the long blond hair said. “You have already given up far too much for them. And if you continue, I fear that you will lose even more. Was it not you who once counseled that people should be left to find their own way? That the intermixing of lives is a tricky and messy business?”

“Heed her warning, Sebastian,” Makesh said. “If you will not listen to us, then at the very least, listen to her. We have no more to discuss here.”

“Peace be with you,” Qumron said.

Anita watched as the two men and the woman named Satia turned and walked way. The woman with the long blond hair remained. She and Sebastian stood and looked at each other.

“You have not changed, my Sebastian,” she said, taking a few steps forward and gazing at her reflection on the surface of the still water in the font. She bent forward and blew on the water, causing a ripple to radiate outward and disrupt the reflection of the cathedral ceiling. She gazed upward. “This pool reminds me of that archer’s story you so like to tell. We only need a spinning wheel and a target.” She smiled, looking back at him. “Do you really trust the Ford boy? Do you believe he will be able to fire his arrow and accomplish his task?”

“I do,” Sebastian replied. “I am certain that more than just Logan will step forward.”

“And if they fail?” the woman asked.

“Then they fail, and the brotherhood will have been correct. But what if they succeed? Will you see things differently then? Or will the people of the world still not have proven their worth? When was the last time the brotherhood shot their arrow?” Sebastian waited for a response, but none came. “At least, my archers are fighting to learn how.”

The woman nodded. “Peace be with you, Sebastian,” she said, and she walked away in the same direction as her companions. “Good-bye, Bukya.”

Sebastian remained alone. He placed his hand on Bukya’s head and began to whistle a tune that reverberated under the vaulted ceiling. As he continued to whistle the same sequence of notes over and over, the echo grew louder, causing a soft harmonic to spread throughout the cathedral. Anita and Britney stared in amazement as the harmonic lingered for an extended and inexplicable amount of time. Anita recognized the sequence of notes Sebastian whistled; it was the same progression she had heard during her vision in the Arcis Chamber. Except this time, the notes were harmonious, not gut-wrenching. Sebastian closed his eyes, seeming to immerse himself in the vibration.
After a few more seconds, he turned and walked to the exit with Bukya by his side.

Anita and Britney emerged from behind the sarcophagus and walked over to the font.

“What was that all about?” Britney asked. “Who were those people?”

“People who aren’t going to do anything to stop what’s happening to the world,” Anita answered.

“Doesn’t sound like Mr. Quinn is, either,” Britney said.

Anita nodded solemnly. “We’re going to have to do something ourselves.”

“Do what?” Britney asked, afraid of the answer.

Anita pulled a small piece of paper from her book bag. “First, we need to find Sumsari’s resonator,” she said. “Then we need to figure out where the Altar of the Bluestones is.”

51

Divine intervention does come, but only to those who invite it with divine sincerity.

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

SALISBURY, U.K., 12:24 P.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 26, 2070

“Didn’t you hear what those people were saying?” Britney asked, exasperated. “Messing around with all of this is dangerous.”

Anita shook her head. “I’m not going to sit around and watch as people all over the world die and suffer. I’m doing this. With or without you.”

Britney looked at her friend. “You’re so stubborn. Fine.” She swiped the note out of Anita’s hand, unfolded it, and read it out loud.

THE CATHEDRAL KNOWS

THAT THOSE WHO HAVE IT

CANNOT SELL IT,

THAT THOSE WHO WANT IT

CANNOT BUY IT,

AND THAT WHICH SHOWS IT

CANNOT HIDE it.

Britney studied it incredulously. “This is all we have to go on?”

“It’s a riddle,” Anita said. “It was written on a stone that Halima and I found buried under the old armory tunnel at the castle. We’re pretty sure it was written by Sumsari Baltik, the man I told you about.”

“You forgot to capitalize the last word,” Britney observed.

“That’s how it was written on the stone,” Anita said. “I think Sumsari intended it to be that way. As if the lowercase
it
is referring to something different from the uppercase
IT
.”

“And you think his resonator, or whatever that thing is that you showed me a picture of, is here in the cathedral somewhere?”

“Yep,” Anita said. “The riddle points to it:
The cathedral knows
.”

“So what can a person have that they cannot sell?” Britney asked, reading a line of the riddle. “Clearly nothing material.”

“Agreed.” Anita squinted as she sought the answer. “What about a person’s voice? A person can’t sell his voice.”

“Wrong,” Britney quickly responded. “You can record a song and sell it. I also suppose you could cut your voice box out and sell it.”

Anita shook her head. “That’s just gruesome. What else do people have that they can’t sell? A house, a car, an animal, a pet, money?”

“No, no, no, and no,” Britney replied in frustration. “All I know is that we need to get out of here. Our boyfriend is probably wondering where we are. What time is it, anyway? The clock is ticking.”

Anita spun and looked at her friend with a gleam in her eye. “Ticking,” she said, remembering the clicking of the clock during her vision in the mirror. “Time!”

“Yeah, what time is it? We have to get out of here.”

“No,
time
is the answer to the riddle. Those who have
it
cannot sell
it
—time. Those who want
it
cannot buy
it
—time. That which shows
it
cannot hide
it
—time. And what shows time?” Anita asked, already knowing the answer.

“Brilliant! A clock,” Britney said. “Isn’t there a clock in here somewhere?”

“Yes, the oldest one in Europe,” Anita said. “We passed it on the way in.”

They quickly turned back to the center of the cathedral and made their way down the aisle where they’d entered, stopping in front of the old iron-framed clock. Anita looked at the two large stone weights hanging from the taut ropes that snaked through the pulleys attached to the cathedral’s ceiling high above. The two massive windows on either side of the old timekeeper were being restored, and scaffolding surrounded it.

Britney inspected the main gears and trains looking for anything that resembled Sumsari’s resonator. “Do you see anything?”

“Nothing down here,” Anita replied. She tracked the ropes that supported the weights and counterweights of the clock. They stretched above the windows, reaching almost to the cathedral ceiling, where they were attached to a small wooden platform. “I wonder if he hid it up there.” Before Britney could say anything, Anita adjusted her book bag and began climbing the scaffolding. She maneuvered up the rungs quickly until she reached the top, but the scaffolding was not high enough for her to reach the wooden platform. “I need to find something to stand on,” Anita called to Britney. She grabbed an empty bucket that was on the top platform of the scaffolding and turned it upside down.