One Realm Beyond (33 page)

Bixby tapped on his shoulder and pointed to the source of the chaos. Shattered glasses surrounded an overturned serving cart. A huge cylinder with a spigot at the bottom lay on its side, with the top popped and the last of the pink beverage trickling out on the pavement. A stack of paper napkins fluttered in the breeze. With each gust, another pulled loose and lifted on the wind to fly away.

The manager of the restaurant took over for Bridger. He patted the man with a larger cloth and spoke soothing words as other staff set to work mopping and tidying.

The man’s eyes opened, and he whispered, “Is he gone?”

“No,” said the manager. He looked around and nodded
approval to his team of cleaners. The sidewalk café now looked more like a place to eat than an establishment devastated by a tidal wave. When his gaze settled on Bridger, he scowled. Dukmee scuttled over to the dragon and dragged him away from the calamity. Cantor and Bixby followed.

Bixby pulled her hand loose from Cantor’s. “Just a minute.”

She pivoted and dove back into the crowd. Moments later she reappeared with Jesha in her arms. “I didn’t think she would follow us until there wasn’t a lick of whipped cream left.”

She sniffed. “Doesn’t that drink smell wonderful? I bet it’s fruit with a high concentration of starflower pulp.”

Cantor grinned. “Do you want to stay and buy one?”

“Oh, no! Some other day.” She glanced back at the disapproving manager and a smile touched her voice. “Many days from now. Right now I want to catch up with Dukmee and Bridger and find out what happened.”

A few more paces took them out of the thick crowd to where they could see ahead. The healer and the dragon stood talking at a corner. Cantor picked up the pace. He glanced back, ready to pull Bixby along as he had before, but her arms were full of cat and her hands unavailable. A twinge of disappointment surprised him, but he dismissed it with a rueful chuckle. Perhaps it was because he could tow her where he wanted. He’d take whatever power he could. She often made him feel powerless.

“Why are you laughing?”

He looked over his shoulder. She was only a step behind him.

“I was ruing my sinister self, which rises to the surface at odd times.”

She caught up to walk beside him. “You aren’t going to scold Bridger, are you? I’m sure he feels terrible about what happened.”

Cantor humphed. He hadn’t even thought about Bridger’s role in the instigation of such pandemonium. “Aren’t you a bit hasty in assuming he’s guilty? Someone else might have started the chain of events.”

Bixby studied him for a moment, then grinned. “Nah, it was Bridger.”

Cantor smiled back. “Probably.”

Ahead, Dukmee and Bridger disappeared around the corner. When Cantor, Bixby, and Jesha caught up, they were seated at another sidewalk café.

Cantor pulled out a chair for Bixby next to Bridger, then took the last chair. “What is it with the people in Gilead and eating outdoors?”

Dukmee laughed. “The weather is always balmy. Rain once in a while, but otherwise mostly sunny with moderate temperatures. I imagine this is why the councilors decided to center their operations here.”

Bridger studied the edge of the table. Cantor noticed his form shrinking bit by bit. Bixby reached over and put a hand on his arm. The dragon didn’t look at her.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I stood up. Jesha had put herself in a spot of sun, intending to take a nap. But it was right where people walked, and I thought she’d get stepped on or would cause someone to trip. I got up. A man stepped on her. He tripped. A waiter pushed the beverage cart into the walkway. The man fell against it. A bucket of whipped cream catapulted into the air. The man and cart went down. The bucket came down.”

Cantor didn’t like the choppy sentences coming out of Bridger’s mouth. He’d lost his eloquence, surely a sign of despair. The dragon probably thought he was too clumsy to be a realm walker’s constant. He was inept.

Bixby patted Bridger’s arm. “I’m so sorry, but it could have happened to anyone.”

Cantor had never seen Bridger so contrite over one of his mishaps.

Dukmee spoke up, his eyes sparkling with good humor. “Like I’ve been telling you, Bridger, it’s all right. No one was hurt. And that pink fluffy stuff rather made the whole place a bit more inviting and boosted the ambiance. The café’s whole tone softened from iron, brick, and concrete to an impression of understated gaiety.”

They didn’t seem to be reaching beyond Bridger’s remorse. Cantor hated to see him looking so glum.

“Hey, Bridge.”

Bridger’s eyes came up to meet Cantor’s.

Cantor pressed his lips together, trying not to say something that would pin him to this dragon for the rest of his life. “We start rounds tomorrow. And we don’t want anyone looking at us as if we’re not a normal partnership. You’ll have to pretend there is no friction between us. I won’t say anything about going back to Effram sometime in the future. You know, looking for my real constant. And you have to remember not to say the stuff you say, trying to get me to commit. Training is going to be tough all by itself. We don’t want to worry about the authorities realizing we are just pretending to be constants. We’re going to do such a good job of pretending to be a team that we will actually be a good team—for now.”

The sorrow in Bridger’s eyes lifted. He didn’t quite have the
eagerness for life that usually twinkled there, but he looked better. Cantor smiled at him and was rewarded with the huge toothy grin that always made the dragon look happily vicious.

The waiter came to take their orders. Once they’d gotten that business out of the way
,
Dukmee looked around the circle as if sizing up each of his companions.

“Speaking of rounds.” Dukmee put his palms together and steepled his forefingers. “I have some news.”

Cantor and the others gave him their attention.

“I’ve been told who your mentor will be.”

Bixby bounced in her chair. “Cantor and I are going to have the same mentor?”

“That’s true.”

“Why?” asked Cantor. “The Moor is mostly vacant. Surely there are enough mentors to handle two more initiates.”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with numbers.”

Bixby bounced again. Her ribbons and lace danced on her tiny form. “Who is it?”

Dukmee took a moment to look each of them in the eye. “Me.”

If he’d wanted a gasp of astonishment, he got it times three.

Cantor emerged from a stunned state first. “How can that be? You aren’t a council member, are you? And I got the distinct impression at the recorder’s office yesterday that they didn’t appreciate our presenting the case for Effram.”

Dukmee nodded. “I got an inkling of their disdain.” He smiled. “That may be one of the reasons they’ve assigned me to you. They hope to keep me so busy I won’t be able to further investigate the conspiracy in the guild. Plus, we’ll be forced to use facilities outside of the main hall.”

He held up a finger to make a point. “That I lay at your
door. I believe they don’t want you two constantly under foot. And Totobee-Rodolow is known for being clever and honest. They can’t want her around with her keen observing and deductive prowess.”

Bridger looked like he was going to say something, but his eyes shifted. “Here’s our breakfast.”

The waiter distributed eggs, bacon, muffins, and juice to his customers. After asking if there was anything else the party required, he went off to take care of others.

Dukmee leaned toward Bixby and whispered, “It’s time you put on your hearing tiara, Bixby. You can listen while we remain silent and eat. Find out what others are saying about Toolooknaut’s Effram article.”

As she searched for the right hamper, she looked worried. “You can hear them too, can’t you?”

“Yes, I can. We’ll compare our discoveries later.”

She pulled out a hamper and soon wore an attractive and unobtrusive bronze crown. She put a finger to her lips and giggled.

SANCTUARY

F
rom breakfast, the friends had to hustle to get to Sanctuary on time. Bixby slipped into a ladies’ room to change. She’d been wearing a quiet mix of clothing, but she almost always wore her joyful outfits to attend Primen Worship. She came out wrapped in reds, oranges, greens, and a bit of black for contrast. She wore her most elaborate crown bedecked with brilliant gems, which did very little but reminded her to be humble and respectful during the service.

She found Cantor and Bridger next to the entry. Jesha hid under one of her dragon’s wings. Bixby heard her purring.

“Where’s Dukmee?”

Cantor used his thumb to indicate the sanctuary. “Totobee-Rodolow came, and he’s sitting with her.”

“Oh, I hope we can squeeze into their pew. I’d like to sit with them.”

Cantor raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

As soon as they stepped through the doors, Bixby understood. In a sanctuary that could have held a thousand worshipers, less than a hundred sat scattered around in the beautiful carved and polished pews.

Cantor leaned toward her. “I believe we had more in attendance in the wee sanctuary at home.”

Bixby saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She glanced that way and saw Feymare standing between two pillars. When she blinked, he was gone, replaced by a lifelike bronzed statue of one of the peacemakers mentioned in Primen’s Book. Blaming the dim light, she turned to study the walls on either side of the pews. Many life-size statues filled the alcoves. Some were easily recognizable, but she didn’t know the names of all of the people depicted.

Cantor offered his arm in a gentleman’s gesture. She laughed to herself that the country boy so quickly picked up city manners. Bridger followed them to the pew where Totobee-Rodolow and Dukmee sat. A flute and violin played the
Contemplative Moment
arrangements. Bixby recognized some of the bits from the pieces played at the
Contemplative Moment
in the sanctuary next to the palace. They sounded different — more melancholy — when only two instruments joined forces.

Two cantors in robes came out on the dais. Turning to face the congregation, they opened their books. In clear voices, they intoned a chant. After the first stanza, twenty more cantors joined them. When this group sang, Bixby grew goose bumps. She rubbed her arms and glanced at Cantor, whose expression showed his fascination with the music. She remembered then that Ahma had said it was a sign of his realm walker gift to be named for a contributor in this sacred form of worship.

The beginning of their time in Sanctuary brought memories of her childhood. All of her mentors had taken her to services, but the depth of worship fluctuated. As the hour proceeded, her disappointment grew. The homily given by a man in elaborate robes said little other than to try to think good thoughts. According to the speaker, this practice of thinking good thoughts would order the rest of your life. As if thinking about daisies would eradicate sewer problems.

Disgusted, she let her mind and her eyes wander. The light of candles and sun did nothing to warm the large room. Bixby peered upward at a ceiling boasting twelve skylights. Even though the sun beamed outdoors, little came through the rooftop domes. She puzzled at this for a while — it wasn’t logical. The noonday sun should be flooding the sanctuary with a golden glow.

Unable to come up with an explanation, she soon gave up and tried to interest herself in the artwork surrounding her. Shadows hid most of the statues lining the walls. She wondered who mistakenly put the sculpture art against the wall and the columns between the statues two feet in front. Of course, the ornate carvings in the tall wooden columns could be seen and inspected. At first she thought they were pictographs of stories she knew. But as she studied the ones closest to her, she realized that none of them fit with tales in the Book.

The strain on her eyes responded to the simple remedy of closing them. Praying that she wouldn’t go to sleep, she bowed her head so that no one could see her lack of interest.

She gladly stood when the cantors sang out the blessings that ended the service. While the cantors held the note of the last word of each line, the people answered.

Truth is in Primen’s heart

And so are we

Primen’s heart is strong

And will contain me

Primen’s heart is great

And will sustain me

Primen’s heart is gentle

And will hold me

Primen’s heart is wise

And will quiet me

Primen’s heart is aware

And will prepare me

Primen’s heart is artful

And will form me

Primen’s heart is faithful

And will renew me

Primen’s heart is careful

And will comfort me

Primen’s heart that shelters you will never let you down

Primen’s heart that shelters me will never let me down

So believe

So believe

Carry Truth

Carry Truth

So be it

So be it forevermore

The next exercise included the cantors’ solemn plea for righteousness and the slightly reworded response by the congregation.