Journey Through the Mirrors (55 page)

“You see this?” Jasper pointed to a red indicator that was flashing on the PCD. “That red dot says that you got the Cheater Virus.”

“What’s the Cheater Virus?” Valerie asked.

“You know, when you have a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife you think is cheating on you. You infect their PCD with this virus, and you can track every move they make. Sometimes the virus can cause your phone to act up and do crazy things.”

Logan turned to give Valerie a look. “Don’t look at me,” she said. “I know you wouldn’t dare cheat on me.” She jokingly pulled back her jacket, revealing her holstered gun.

Logan laughed. “How’d it get on there?”

“You had to have allowed someone to transfer it to your PCD,” Jasper explained. “I read that most of the infections happen when a person temporarily unlocks his phone to receive a video or—”

“A photograph,” Logan said, putting it together. He looked at Valerie. “Simon’s bodyguard Kashta, that photographer. I unlocked my phone when he transferred the photos he took of us in Mexico.”

“That’ll do it,” Jasper said. “Mystery solved. Just hit that little button right there, and you will no longer be a cheating spouse.”

“That’s how they knew what time the WCF plane was going to land,” Valerie said. “And when we were approaching the Creamery. He’s been tracking you the whole time.”

“I need to get rid of this thing,” Logan said. He was about to press the button when Valerie grabbed his hand.

“I don’t know much about this virus,” she said. “But if they’ve been tracking your signal, I wonder if we could track theirs.”

67

The sun does not pause for the passing of any soul, nor does the moon halt its forever journey through the night sky.

They continue their eternal tasks, awaiting your assured return so that they might once again awaken you from slumber and cradle you to sleep when dreaminess calls.

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

PEEL CASTLE, ISLE OF MAN, 7:12 P.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 29, 2070

The wind whipped around the high spire of Peel Castle, where Sebastian stood with his constant companion. Bukya had taken up his usual position on the ledge that faced the unruly ocean. The sun was starting to kiss the horizon, and the sky anticipated the upcoming explosion of hues. The twenty-five-meter yacht named
Everlasting
was anchored two hundred meters offshore. From time to time, moody clouds would float by, shedding mist and rain. Bukya whined as he looked down upon the solitary man standing on a large rock on the beach. Wave after wave rolled in, crashing all around him. A large blue balloon floated next to him, its string anchored to a stone near his feet. The balloon swayed back and forth as the wind tempted it into flight.

“Lawrence is mourning, my friend,” Sebastian said, placing his hand on Bukya’s back. “The loss of Anita has devastated him. I fear it will take a while for him to return.” Sebastian turned and looked at the ruins of the cathedral. “You can still hear Anita’s music if you listen
carefully.” He hummed a few notes of the last melody he had heard her play. Bukya let out a whimper.

Anita Kinelot had not survived the storm that hit Stonehenge. The large electrical arc that struck its center had claimed her life and the lives of many others who had been nearby.

The thick wooden door leading to the spire opened, and Halima walked out onto the rooftop with Britney. The two of them were holdings hands. Both were dressed in black and had just returned from a memorial service for Anita at the Isle of Man University. Sebastian walked over to Britney and gave her a long and heart-felt embrace. “How was the memorial?”

“Wonderful,” Britney said, wiping tears from her eyes. “All our friends were there and many of our professors. I miss her terribly.” As hard as Britney tried, she couldn’t stop the flow of tears.

“She’ll be back. Just like my mother and father,” Halima said, giving Britney a good, long squeeze around her waist. “Everyone comes back. Don’t they, Mr. Quinn?”

“Yes, they do,” Sebastian said warmly.

“I don’t know how to feel about any of this,” Britney said. “I don’t know if I’m angry because all of this could have been avoided or inspired because my best friend committed such an unselfish act and helped save a few lives.”

“She did more than save just a few lives,” Sebastian said. “Because of her, others were given the time to act and prevent a worldwide catastrophe. Anita made a great sacrifice, one that the world may never know about.”

Britney nodded, choking back more tears. “I know that Anita would have wanted you to have this.” She handed Sebastian Anita’s blue book bag. He looked inside and took out Sumsari’s resonator and tuning fork.

“Thank you,” Sebastian said. “We will keep this safe.”

“You seem so at peace after everything that’s happened,” Britney said. “It’s as if you understand why any of this, why all of this, happened.
But tell me, how do you deal with the fact that you will never see someone you love again?”

Sebastian could see the pain that Britney was dealing with. “What if you received a message on your PCD from the universe,” he postulated, “and in the message, the universe told you that Anita was moments away from returning as a baby girl named Marina Abner of Yorkshire Park. That she would have the opportunity to play her violin again, this time under the tutelage of a great instructor. What if you were assured that she would have doting parents? That she would have a big brother and an older sister who would protect her and look out for her? What if you were told that she would have three dogs and a wandering white cat that would lead her into all kinds of mischief?”

“What happens when she grows up?” Halima asked, eager to know the end of the story. “Does she get married? Does she have kids? What does she do?”

“Only Marina would know how her story will end,” Sebastian replied. “But what if the universe sent you such a message?” he asked Britney again. “How would you feel?”

“Still sad that she wasn’t with me,” Britney replied. After a moment, a cautious smile came to her face. “It is a pleasant thought, though, to know that she is back somewhere. Anita talked about stuff like that all the time, but I didn’t pay much attention. I should have.” Britney looked at Sebastian, her eyes still wet. The wind kicked up on the spire. “Will I get to meet her? This Marina Abner of Yorkshire?”

“Yes, do we get to meet her?” Halima asked.

“The entanglement of souls brings us face-to-face with friends and enemies alike,” Sebastian said. “In unexpected moments and in unexpected ways.”

Britney nodded. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Something caught Halima’s eye. She walked over to the edge of the spire. “Mr. Quinn, who is that woman walking over to Mr. Lawrence?”

Sebastian and Britney joined Halima. They all watched as a woman with long blond hair and dressed in white slowly made her way over
some stones toward Lawrence. “I’ve seen her before,” Britney said, continuing to watch her. “She was the woman you spoke to at Salisbury Cathedral when the other people left.”

“Who is she?” Halima asked.

“Her name is Razia Ki Rani,” Sebastian said.

“She’s beautiful,” Halima said. “Is she going to stay long?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian said. “Her arrival was unexpected.”

“Well, she brought a big suitcase with her.” Halima pointed to a large brown trunk that had been left on the path near the castle wall.

Two loud horn blasts came from the
Everlasting.

“It’s time!” Halima said.

“Time for what?” Britney asked.

“To set Anita free,” Halima replied. “Her ashes are in that blue balloon next to Mr. Lawrence.”

The three of them watched as Razia kissed Lawrence on the cheek and exchanged a warm embrace with him. She then made her way back to shore, where she turned and looked at Lawrence with the ocean in front of him.

Sebastian closed his eyes. The wind suddenly calmed. Everything became eerily quiet. The sun had dipped farther into the horizon, and a stunning rose-colored hue filled the sky. “Journey on, Master Anita!” Sebastian shouted, as if calling to the heavens. “May love be your guide and grace your companion.”

From down below, Razia’s melodic voice could be heard. She repeated the same phrase. Lawrence followed in kind. “Journey on, my daughter. May love be your guide and grace your companion.” Lawrence released the balloon, and Bukya let out a series of barks.

Sebastian opened his eyes as the blue balloon rose and floated over the ocean. After a few moments of ascension, a red flare shot up from the deck of the
Everlasting
and streaked into the sky. It struck the balloon, bursting it into flames and allowing Anita’s ashes to be carried by the gusty wind, which had suddenly returned. Sebastian whispered the Farewell Axiom of the Guardians again.

Britney wiped more tears from her eyes, deeply touched. “I think I’ll go home and ride Biscuit around the glen. There’s a tree there that Anita and I liked to climb. I’ll bring my PCD with me and wait for that message from the universe,” she said, smiling.

Sebastian gave Britney a slight bow. “That sounds like a magnificent idea. But before you depart, I have a little something for you.” He walked over to a small table, picked up a leather-bound journal, and held it out to Britney. “This is Anita’s story. It is the tale that she told so beautifully in song but struggled to put into words. I know you have often wondered how Anita came to be with us here at Peel Castle.” Britney took the book and looked at the opening page, written in Anita’s handwriting. “After reading this, that question, and others, will be answered.”

“Thank you, Mr. Quinn,” Britney said. “Anita so admired all of you. I now see why.”

Sebastian bowed again and said, “All I ask is that after you have read it, you bring it back to us here and place it on one of the shelves in the Alexandria Room. Hypatia will ensure that Anita’s story will never be forgotten.”

“You have my promise,” Britney said, and she gave Halima and Sebastian a final hug good-bye, then left through the heavy wooden door.

Sebastian and Halima watched the
Everlasting
make its way back to the dock. They watched the sun set deeper into the horizon.

“What happened to the archer in the story you told Anita and me in the Arcis Chamber?” Halima asked, looking up at Sebastian. “Did his arrow make it? Did he marry the princess and live happily ever after?”

“That is a question only each of us can answer for ourselves,” Sebastian replied. “The target above the spinning wheel represents the things we would like to have in our lives. The question is, are we willing to look past all our distractions to attain them? Do you remember what the goal was the day I told you the story?”

“To look into the Jaladarz,” Halima said. “We were supposed to lose ourselves in our reflections.”

“And did you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to hear the end of the story,” Halima innocently replied.

Sebastian smiled. “Yes, you wanted to hear the end of the story, whose moral is to get beyond the distractions and stay focused on your task.”

Halima looked confused as she tried to understand what Sebastian had just told her. He was about to continue his explanation when Halima’s face lit up with realization. “The story is both the lesson and the distraction,” she said. “As it is with anything that comes between us and our task.”

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “To know the deeper essence of anything, everything must be put aside, no matter how enticing, provoking, or distracting that
everything
is. That is singularity of mind—that is singularity of purpose.”

Sebastian and Halima looked down from the spire and saw that Lawrence and Razia were each holding one end of the large brown trunk and making their way along the path to the castle.

“Razia does not do things idly,” Sebastian said. “Should we go and greet our house guest?”

Halima nodded eagerly.

68

Remember always, you are loved.

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

GORNERGRAT, SWITZERLAND, 11:00 A.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 30, 2070

Simon sat at his twin pedestal desk and stared intently at the blank page of the last volume of the set of the
Chronicles
that he had taken from Logan. The final volumes of the three other sets also lay open to their last pages in front of him. The curtains behind him had been pulled shut, preventing any light from entering through the tall picture windows. Two lit candles were positioned directly in front of the open books, and the silver box containing the remaining volumes sat on a shelf nearby. Simon was after the final symbol, the symbol Camden had hypothesized would bring immortality to anyone who gazed upon its complete form.

Camden had written in his journal that it had been divided among the four copies of the
Chronicles
for safekeeping. The only way someone would be able to piece together the entire icon was by processing all four books. Simon had been sitting and staring at the page for more than two hours. Any line or shape he glimpsed he would record on a notepad he kept by his right hand.

There was a knock on his door. “Not now,” he said loudly. He attempted to regain his focus, but the knocking persisted. “Come,” he said, frustrated by the intrusion.

Kashta entered the darkened office. “There is a gentleman here to see you. And I think you’re going to want to meet him.”

A man stepped around Kashta and entered the room. He was wearing a white winter jacket that fell past his knees and a pair of black snow boots.

“And who might you be?” Simon asked, unable to make out the man’s features in the dim light.

“Someone who has never forgotten you,” the man said.

While Kashta stood impassively by the door, Simon rose to his feet and pulled open the heavy curtains, allowing sunlight to fill the room. He turned back around and looked at the man again, recognizing him immediately this time.

“Giovanni Rast,” Simon said. “Now, why in the world would you have expended so much energy to find me? I suppose that you have come to exact some sort of revenge for what my father did to you?”