Quest for Destiny Chapter Two
Quest for Destiny Chapter TwoChapter 2
Few words were spoken the entire trip from the parking lot. Jeremy led the way a couple miles, then turned into a gap within a patch of woods, following the cobbled way a bit towards the right. They stopped at a sturdy wrought-iron gate bracketed by formidable, square, stone columns having tall, red brick walls stretching into the woods both directions.
Barry hopped from the other vehicle. Once the gate was unlocked with one side swung in, they proceeded along the driveway onto the secluded property, pulling up to the front of a broad, three-story, colonial-style home.
A man stepped out the main doors onto the portico. Seeing Myer crawling from the back seat with the prisoner, as the other men carefully lifted the limp woman from the hatchback, the thin, dark haired masle turned and called inside.
Several minutes passed in a blur for Sarita, as people funneled from the home, taking directions from Myer. Sarita got out of the passenger side and stood offset from the commotion, her legs weak. A few of the residents took hold of Yvette, bringing her inside, then both cars were driven beyond sight.
The assailant was questioned more by Myer a couple dozen paces away in the presence of three men who wore simple, thick, nearly-white attire. Those three then took the captive around the side of the long, grand home. Others came and went, asking the other masles of the circumstances, only to be shooed away.
Myer went into the home with Jeremy, leaving Sarita to be guided by a woman the patriarch simply told, “Get her cleaned and have her sit with Yvette.”
That femella—thin, in a slinky, cream-colored gown—went to Sarita. “Hi. I’m Katy.”
“Katy?”
The thin woman waited for more. The newcomer’s mind was still searching for comprehension of her situation. Katy invited, “Please, come inside. You must be cold.”
“Cold? Uh. I am. Aren’t you?”
“Getting there. Let’s get inside. A hot shower will do wonders for you.”
“I… I should…” Sarita had no idea what to do, just that she should be doing something for her friend.
“There’s nothing for you to do now, except get cleaned.”
Sarita was guided up the steps onto the broad, covered portico with its two-story white columns. They passed through polished dark-wood doors into the grand foyer, then up curved, stone stairs on the right, having patterned runners a shade darker than her car. The steps landed on the white balcony looking into the atrium of the grand foyer. Katy walked her a short distance into a hall to the right, entering one of the doors along the north side of the guest wing.
The large chamber didn’t seem like a bathroom; having heavy, dark drapes and rugs; a seating area with a settee, three chairs and a chaise lounge; as well as a mirrored table near the door with a stuffed brocade stool. There was a free-standing, brass tub to one side with matching shower head and two-part curtain ring fastened to the sculpted ceiling. A sturdy wooden stand rested on a broad rug near the tub with folded towels and hand cloths. Illumination from two table lamps befitting the early Nineteen Twenties gave a warm feel to the plush chamber.
“We have to get you out of those clothes,” Katy explained in a soothing tone. “I hope they don’t stain.”
“Stain?” Looking down, the soft light of the room allowed her to see more. Sarita saw her bloodied hands clearly for the first time. She screamed, wiping them a few strokes on her coat. Turning, she bounded towards the closed door shouting, “Yvette?”
Katy sped after her, taking hold of an arm, pulling the woman away from the door before it could be opened. The grip was not forceful, though firm, especially for one more petite. “They’re helping her settle. Please take those off and we’ll get you showered.”
“I….”
Releasing the hold, guiding Sarita towards the tub, “Please take them off before they become permanently stained.”
For several seconds, Sarita looked around while standing near the tub. Everything was a haze. Nothing felt real, as strange hands unzipped her coat, nudging it off soft shoulders, allowing it to fall on the floor. Katy pulled the light-green sweater over the student’s head, letting it fall as well. Kneeling to unzip high boots, the thinner pulled each as Sarita lifted her feet in turn. Next off were the jeans and socks.
That left the bewildered femella standing in undergarments, both black as her hair on the light-brown figure that had never shed baby fat.
Still unsure of what to do about the shock, Katy took a moment to examine the broad oval face with its sloping chin. Sarita’s nearly black eyes under thick brows stared at her own bloodied hands. With no comforting words to give, Katy moved to the back of the woman and began unraveling the waist long, thick, coarse braid. She then unfastened the hooks of the bra.
Sarita squealed when the pressure released. She spun around, clutching her arms across the volume of her chest that showed a few inches of cleavage above and curvature below.
“It’s all right,” the stranger assured Sarita. “You’re safe here.” Katy then told the skittish newcomer while collecting clothes from the floor, “That shower will help. I’ll be back with something for you to wear after I put this in the wash.”
Sarita watched, turning in place as the woman left the room. After standing for several seconds, she cautiously went to the door, opening it to peer out. Three people near the balcony some dozen paces away chatted too softly for her to comprehend. They went silent when one of them caught sight of her and the other saw where she looked. Sarita closed the door.
Still holding the unfastened bra with an arm across her chest, she went to the tub. The shaky, loose hand turned the two brass faucets. She pulled the brassiere free, draping it on the tub’s edge. Looking around, she thumbed her panties down past broad hips.
Sarita spun around and screamed. A flash of the one who sodomized her took momentary hold.
The door opened and another woman’s face appeared, asking, “Are you all right?”
“No. Get out.”
The door closed.
Kicking the undergarment away, Sarita stepped into the tub. The shower curtains hung from two, brass, half-circle bars suspended at the ceiling. She pulled the parts to encircle herself, the fabric draped within the heavy, contoured tub. Once closed, Sarita peered out one side, then the other. She listened, then looked to the door again. Not satisfied, though needing to clean, the young woman picked up the homemade bar of soap scented with a blend of flowers, lathering her hands. The attached perforated brass shelf also held a peach-colored hand cloth and a corked, purple-glass bottle of shampoo.
She rinsed hands thoroughly before proceeding to her shoulders, down the arms and under firm mammae. Taking time to ensure she was still alone, she proceeded to her chubby belly, pelvic based with a thick tuft, then along her waist, square hips, backside and down legs. She checked beyond the tub again before rinsing thoroughly. After washing her face with the hand cloth, she shampooed the hair.
Resisting the desire to let the warm water flow over her in an attempt to wash memories away, she reached to the knobs, ending the shower. Concern for her friend pressed stronger than her fear of the past and present. Looking through the curtain, the woman yelped at the sight of Katy a few steps away.
“Sorry I startled you,” the thin femella apologized while gliding gracefully closer, taking a towel from the stand to spread out for the guest. “I knocked.”
“Not loud enough,” the student stated. Carefully reaching out, she snatched the towel. Wrapping herself in it, Sarita stepped from the tub, well away from the other woman.
“There’s a nightgown and robe on the settee,” the thinner explained, “and slippers below them. I’ll be outside while you dress. When you’re ready, I’ll take you to your friend.”
Less than a minute later, Sarita was in the heavy, taupe-colored, full-length gown clinging to her still damp form. It exaggerated her femininity, presenting more cleft within the crossed fabric than she was used to beyond a summer date. The cream robe helped with her modesty and the matching slippers were cozy.
From the one room, Katy led her across the hall to another, a few strides further from the foyer. Yvette was the only other in the sizable chamber. The injured woman—now in a frilly, cream-colored, flannel nightgown—laid in the elegant, spacious bed, appearing peaceful under the maroon comforter and beige flannel sheets. An ornate chair of dark hardwood having stuffed, brass-tacked, brocade seat and back was positioned near the headboard of the bed, complementing the decor of the room. A crackling fire in the hearth framed in gold-vein, deep-red marble and pink stone warmed the spacious interior.
“You may sit here,” Katy told Sarita, indicating the chair, “or crawl in and hold her. We will not disturb either of you. In the morning, we’ll bring breakfast.”
“Why can’t we take her to the hospital?”
“She’ll be fine. She may not wake for a couple of days, but she will.” Seeing the shorter woman was not convinced, Katy repeated, “She will be fine.”
“What did he do to her?”
“That’s hard to explain. For now, know you’re both safe. We will not let harm come to Mistress Fontaine’s daughter or her friend.”
“She’s Yvette Halpen – not Fontaine. I don’t know any Fontaines.”
“We tend not to use her mother’s married name. We know who they are.”
“How do you know Yvette?”
“I know little of her. Let the questions wait until morning. Rest now. If you need anything, ask anyone you find. We’ll be up all night. We have to decide what to do. For now,” cutting off any other questions with a politely raised hand, “rest.”
With that, Katy left the room, closing the heavy, sculpted door.
Out in the hall, a well-dressed blonde man stepped to Katy, asking, “Is that truly Raanana’s daughter?”
“One of them is. The other is her friend. Don’t disturb them.”
“We won’t. What are we going to do? What if she comes here?”
“I don’t know. We had enough trouble with Eblin – and now this.”
“Was he after her for what happened in Memphis?”
“It would seem so. I don’t know any more than that. I’m going to talk to Myer now.”
Heading along the hall, then downstairs to Myer’s personal study, she stepped in. Myer was the only person occupying the room of dark hardwood with heavy drapes the shade of rich chocolate. The chamber was warmed by a fire that provided the only light. He held the black handset of a decades-old phone, listening to the receiver.
Cupping the mic, he asked Katy in a whisper, “Yes?”
Also in a whisper, the femella responded, “They’re settled in the room.”
He nodded, then put up a finger, speaking into the phone, “I had no idea she was here or how Eblin knew she was. I’m going to talk to him later about it. I want Mistress Fontaine to know Yvette will recover. We’re taking care of her. Tell her we have the one who did it and he’s not of our colony.”
“And Eblin’s sister wasn’t with him?” a mature feminine voice asked through the receiver, having a distinct accent, seeming of many places.
“She was not. One moment.” Recapping the mouthpiece, he asked Katy, “Is there anything else?”
“Not really, my lord. People have a lot of questions.”
“So do I. Send some of them out and see if Caroline is in the area.”
“Right – the sister. She wouldn’t be that stupid.”
“The brother was.” Myer casually waived the woman away with a palm down finger sweep. Returning to the phone conversation, the masle apologized, “Sorry about that.”
“That’s all right,” Lavina replied. “I should go there and talk to Yvette.”
“She’s sleeping now. I doubt she’ll be awake tomorrow. Eblin opened her wide. She’ll live and be fine, but he almost succeeded.”
“Then it happened.”
“It had to. There was no other way to save her life.”
“I understand. I’m certain Raana will as well. I’ll be there in the morning. It will take longer for Raana to arrive at your estate.”
“She has to know we did what we had to. There was no other choice.”
“I know. I’ll tell her, but I need to talk to Yvette.”
“You’re welcome to see her, though I doubt she’ll be awake when you get here.”
“Then, that will have to do. I can be at Boston airport by sunrise.”
“I’ll have a car waiting and set a room for you here.”
“Thank you. Try not to worry. I’m sure she’ll understand your position.”
“Thanks for your help with this. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
“I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances.”
“Me, too. Bye for now.”
“See you at sunrise. Bye-bye.”
After hearing the click from the distant end, the man set the heavy handpiece on the cradle. He breathed softly, considering the situation and what could be done. Nearly an hour later, Myer rose from the seat.
He went to the grand foyer of gray-veined white marble accented in black marble with gold-veins. A gilded chandelier filled much of the open area overhead. Two broad, third-circle stairs with burgundy runners led to the curved balcony overhanging the underpass he came from, opposite the main entry doors.
Standing off center on the Persian rug, he observed the crowd in hushed conversation on the balcony. As more noticed the master of the home, the murmur quieted. Once silent, he took a few seconds to assess the demeanor, then addressed them.
“For now, we’re not in danger. Lavina will be here at sunrise.” To the upstairs maid—a petite woman with dark hair hanging loose down the back to her waist—he requested, “Please prepare a room for her in the east wing.”
“Yes, my lord.”
To a tall man, the butler—his hair slicked back—Myer instructed, “Have a car sent to the Boston airport in about four hours.” There was a nod. “Please, have Jeremy meet me around back. I’m taking a short walk. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Of course, sire.”
“As for the rest of you. Go do something. Head to bed. The children should. They still have school in the morning.”
One of the parents—a slender woman of moderate stature—stepped to the marble rail. “Myer. How can you insist on school with all this going on?”
“This is but one problem and doesn’t concern you directly. The tutors will be here at their usual time, so have the children well rested and in the classrooms.”
“I’m not sure we’ll be here in the morning.”
“That’s up to you.”
Her husband spoke from the mother’s left. “Why did you not know a Fontaine was nearby?”
“Why would Raanana feel she should keep us informed of the whereabouts of her kin?”
“She should have told you. This is your land.”
“You know the delicacies of the relation. Mistress Fontaine has no reason to inform any of us of where she sends her children for their education.”
“She forbade us from entering all of Colorado. She and her kin should not be in Massachusetts.”
“If you like, take it up with her when she arrives. That is, if you’re still here. While you’re on my estate, you’re under my protection. As I said, this matter is not of your direct concern. Mistress Fontaine will know that. Now I have things to do. Don’t hang around up there – and keep it quiet. Yvette and her friend need their rest.”
With that, Myer exited the front door, leaving the crowd to decide what each would do. The masle casually walked down the portico steps. He sniffed the air, now just a breeze. He had hoped for another, more feminine odor. It wasn’t there.
By the time the man circled around back, along the east side of the extensive home, his manservant was on the high, broad, half-circle patio overlooking the south meadow. Myer waived for Jeremy to join him on the grounds, then angled towards the southeast.
With the patriarch still walking casually, it only took a couple minutes for the taller man with white hair to reach Myer and ask, “So, are we going to get some answers from him now?”
“I hope so. I had to discover a few things and give him time to consider his position.”
“What did you find out?”
“That we may not be in immediate peril.”
“You should have killed him when he was here last.”
“It didn’t seem necessary at the time. It was a disagreement between the Sullivans and Fontaines. I was not about to deny Raanana the pleasure of the hunt.”
“And now?”
“If Raanana wishes to have him, she can.”
“What of the sister?”
“The same.”
“That’s a shame.”
“I’m sure if you wish, Raanana would let you entertain for a while.”
“I may request it.”
“We have to find her first.”
They talked of what they knew as they approached a red-brick, single-story building attached to a corral stretching west and east towards the woods that surrounded the property.
A stout man of light complexion, wearing an off-white, loose shirt over tan trousers, leaned against the wall next to a single, heavy, aged door.
Myer asked him, “Has he said anything?”
“Nothing useful.”
“Oh well,” the shorter muttered with a nod, then entered.
A single candle lit the open interior from an iron, wall sconce. The hard walls and terra-cotta tiled floor did nothing to muffle sounds. A faint scent of rotting flesh hung in the cold air. The scruffy captive, his clothes having been removed, was shackled by his wrists to a short chain that ran through one of the iron rings secured to the floor. The four scars on his cheek had crusted over.
Eying the master of the estate, the captive asked, “Come to kill me?”
“At present, I have no intentions on ending your life.” Myer then turned his head to a pair of soldiers resembling the man outside. They sat on a long table mounted at one of the walls – a butchery table as sturdy as they were. “Has he babbled anything useful?”
“Nope,” one of them responded. “Just that same rubbish as before.”
Nodding again, the patriarch readdressed the shackled prisoner. “I’m here to talk to you about your sister. I would like to speak with her. She’s more forthcoming with the truth.”
“She’s weak.”
“Possibly. However, so are you.” Drawing quite near, Myer sniffed the bedraggled man. “Being on the run didn’t appeal to you.”
“I’m not on the run. I’m on the attack.”
“Is that what this is?”
“You don’t have long to live,” Eblin expressed, his tone spiteful. “Raanana will destroy you.”
“Yvette lives.”
“I know what you had to do. You think saving her life will make up for that?”
“It’s all beyond you now. Your only hope for a simple, quick end is to explain your actions and tell me how to find your sister.”
“You haven’t figured out why yet?”
“I’m certain I have. I want you to tell me.”
“You explain it. I’m dead either way. When that Jewish bitch comes to kill you all, she’ll find me. I’m sure she’ll do something special. Once I’m dead, I’ll wait and catch her spirit.”
“You’re no match for her – alive or dead.”
“We’ll see.”
“I doubt we will. As for here and now, tell me why you felt it necessary to kill Yvette.”
“You could have helped us when we came for it. You chose instead to send Caroline and me away. Move to Mexico, you said – or to South America.”
“Deeper Central America was an option. I’m sure you could have flown anywhere. All you had to do is leave the U.S. We would have ignored you. But, no; you had to come back. For what? Some pitiful delusion of revenge?”
“It’s not pitiful. She’ll destroy you.”
“I think Lavina could calm her.”
“She’s not here.”
“She will be by sunrise.”
There was a flicker in the man’s gaze, then Eblin forced a smile – a smile the shorter man knew was strained. “No matter. Either she kills me or Raanana will. Then you will die, if not before me. There is nothing you can do to escape that. You’re done. Eight hundred years and poof. You’re done; dead; finished.”
“No matter what is said about us, we all die.”
“Lavina doesn’t. Or, are they lying about her.”
“I doubt that’s a fabrication. That’s something you’re more familiar with. You seem to lack the ability to express truth consistently.” While Myer talked to the man, he moved behind him, leaning closer, sniffing Eblin’s skin. “Where were you before coming here?”
“She’s not there now.”
Grabbing the back of the straggly hair, Myer pulled the man as far as the chain would allow, yelling, “Where is your sister?”
Not the timid man anymore, Eblin asked, “Losing your temper? It reminds me of someone we know.” He was pulled back even further, straining his wrists. “You can rip off my hands, but the truth is the truth. This is not a fabrication.”
Myer hissed. Sharp, canine-like fangs flipped down, displayed fully to the one he held. Leaning over, he sank them into soft tissue on the far side of the throat under the ear. Eblin cringed as flesh opened enough for Myer to suck the pair of incisions.
After a while, Jeremy casually addressed the patriarch, “Sire. He’ll pass out.”
The man was ignored. Myer sucked for several minutes, as thick, deep purple-red, oily fluid came from the core of the man to replenish the loss. Eblin did pass out around half way through the draining. The patriarch continued drawing out fluid.
Once done, Myer let the man go. The limp masle slumped over his own knees, his face turned sideways on the cold tile, arms bent out, still held by the chain. Unable to hold his nausea, Myer vomited beyond the victim under him. After several expulsions, heaves turned dry, eventually easing to a stop. Rising, Myer took the towel offered to him by his manservant and wiped his face.
Tossing it to one of the counters with a sink, he told Jeremy, “Thank you.” To the pair of men still sitting on the table, “When he wakes, find out where his sister is.”
“Yes, my lord,” one responded, looking to the man appearing deceased on the floor.
Outside, heading back to the mansion, Jeremy asked his patriarch, “Why the sister?”
“She’ll tell me things he won’t.”
“Maybe not now. It’s been three years.”
“She’ll tell me.”
“All right. Then what?”
“Then we give them to Raanana and hope that settles this.”
“He almost killed Yvette.”
“She lives. She’ll recover.”
“But what will Raanana think?”
“That, I hope, Lavina will be able to tell me when she arrives and has a chance to see Yvette.”
As they continued discussing the matter, they saw Katy on the distant patio. She watched the men approach under the moonlit night, contemplating their situation. After some three minutes, a man approached the slender woman from the wooden, etched-glass French doors behind her.
Katy turned to the soft sound of steps. “What is it?”
“Sarita woke. She’s screaming. We can’t calm her.”
After glancing to the pair still approaching across the meadow, she headed for the entry, muttering, “It’s going to be a long night.”
Arriving at the room she had left the friends, Katy passed through the crowd outside the door. Addressing the gathered mob, “I’ll take care of this. Go away. You’re all scaring her.”
Nudging a couple to prod them along, the thin woman entered the room and approached the bed. The only light came from the open door and weakened flames at the hearth.
Sarita was in the bed with her friend, wearing the gown and robe given her. She wasn’t screaming now. “Who are you people?” the student asked. Yvette still laid peacefully next to her. “Where are we?”
“You remember me. We met a little while ago. I’m Katy.”
“Katy?”
“Yes. You dozed off. That’s good. You’re at Myer’s estate. You and your friend were attacked.”
“Katy?”
“Yes.” The thin woman saw disorientation fade. What remained was the confusion Sarita arrived with. Stepping closer, intending to sit on the edge of the bed, the thinner assured the other, “You’re safe here.”
“Get away. I’m remembering. The Vatican was destroyed. The Pope’s dead.”
“Vatican? Pope? Nothing like that happened. What are you talking about?”
“Get back.”
Retreating a step, Katy expressed, “You’re safe in this home. So is Yvette. No one here will harm either of you.”
“Where are we? What mayor?”
“Myer. Not mayor. He’s our lord. He saved your friend. Just relax. You had a nightmare. It’s no wonder with all you went through.”
“The Pope. He’s dead. The Vatican is gone.”
“Nothing happened to Pope Benedict. He’s fine. The Vatican is fine.”
“Not Benedict. John – Pope John is dead.”
“John Paul had been dead for a couple years.”
“Not John Paul. Just John.”
Confusion in the eyes of the plump woman grew again. Katy had her own growing bewilderment. She watched the woman in the bed, examining her dark eyes intently. She then went to the door, waving to the nearest person – a woman – to come closer. Katy told her softly, “When Myer gets to the house, have him come here. He should be at the back soon. Tell him there may be another dream traveler. Then check the news and see what’s going on. Something may be happening in Rome.”
With a glance into the room, the woman departed. Katy stepped further in, leaving the door cracked.
Though Sarita let the thinner draw nearer, she told her, “That’s close enough.”
“This is fine. Myer will be interested in discussing that dream you had.”
“How did you know?”
“I sensed it. You have conflicting views.”
“It’s just a dream. I was confused.”
“Possibly. However, this may not be an ordinary dream. I gather you had this happen before.”
“I’m not talking about it with you.”
“That’s all right, but please tell Myer of this dream. He’s collecting them.”
Myer entered the room, asking, “Who’s collecting what?” The woman who retrieved him remained at the door.
“You, sire. Sarita had a dream. It sounds prophetic.”
“Really?” Myer responded to the plump woman.
“It’s just a dream.”
Moving past Katy, the man replied, “Dreams are never just dreams. You seem better than before.”
“I’m not. Yvette still needs to go to the hospital.”
“You’ll find that here is the best place for her.”
“And where is here?”
“This is my home.”
“You all keep telling me that,” Sarita snapped.
“There is much to discuss, but you need rest. Please sleep.”
“I’m not tired. Why is this happening?”
“We’re not entirely sure.”
“Then find out.”
“We’re working on that.”
Sarita looked around the shadows in the room. Her mind was clearer, but no less sure of what was real.
“Sire,” Katy addressed. “She talked of Pope John being dead.”
The woman at the door muttered, “Oh yeah. I was supposed to check the news.”
“Before that,” Myer told her, “please have Eiddwen come here – and have her bring a pad.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Sir,” Sarita addressed. “Why do they call you that? Are you royalty?”
“No. My father was a blacksmith.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Indicating the chair, he asked, “May I sit there?”
Shifting to face the edge of the bed on that side, gently pressing a soft hip against her friend – a protective gesture – she told the masle, “Okay.” She then ensured her friend was covered to her neck and seemed comfortable.
Myer sat and watched, informing her, “We’ll have someone in the morning give her liquids. We have a broth that will help her recover.”
“What happened to her?”
“The man who attacked Yvette knows her mother. He’s trying to start a feud.”
“A feud? As in fighting?”
“I’m afraid so. He’s upset and feels your friend’s mother will do something about us.”
“Yvette doesn’t talk about her mother much. Not that I ask.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“You know her mother?”
“Many of us do.”
“How? I know she has friends around here. She arranged our parking with one of them, but I didn’t know she had this many.”
“We have little contact, though I would like to think myself counted as one of Raanana’s friends. She may think otherwise.” Turning to Katy. “Please bring another chair, then leave us to discuss this dream.”
“Right away.”
As the woman departed, Myer asked Sarita, “You dreamt of Pope John?”
“It’s not important. It was just a dream.”
“To me, it is important.”
“Why?”
“We’re all connected in the Akasha and dreams relate us with others in different planes.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“All things are connected,” the man told Sarita. “We can sense bonds, if we consider them. It’s simple enough to sense our entwined essences. Dreams are more difficult to unravel. Even as long as I’ve been doing this, I still have difficulties.”
Katy returned with a chair matching the one Myer sat in. She was followed by a good-looking, shapely, blonde femella wearing a deep-green gown. The blonde sat in the chair Katy placed at the masle’s left. The thinner stepped back a bit before exiting, closing the door behind her.
Sarita examined the seated woman, whose right leg was draped comfortably over the left. Hands of the blonde were cupped on a leather folder. Bright, hazel-brown eyes on her round, pale face watched the newcomer, seemingly in a daze of her own. Thick, loose hair cascaded over the left arm of the chair.
“Who are you?” Sarita asked.
“Eiddwen. I chronicle the lives of our people.”
“Does everyone speak that way here?”
“We say what is needed.”
Myer smiled. “Yes, Sarita. We tend to speak this way. You’ll find that we – by choice – stay separated from the rest of the world. We’re connected, as all things are with the Akasha, but we choose to retain much of our past. You’ll learn this.”
“I’m not going to be around that long. Neither is Yvette.”
“We’ll see. Now for that dream and Pope John. Do you know which John?”
Seeing the blonde open the folder, taking a gold pen, making notes, Sarita told them, “The current one. The current one in the dreams. I know Benedict is our current Pope. I feel strange.”
The man looked to the blonde, who gave a slight shake of her head. He then asked Sarita, “Are you nauseous?”
“No. I’m rattled. It seemed so real.”
Eiddwen told the man, “Sarita’s had these dreams before.”
The student asked the woman, “How did you know?”
Myer answered, “She’s good at this. So, you have prophetic dreams.” His statement was not a query or of doubt.
“I don’t tell people.” She then clarified, “I haven’t told anyone since I was young.”
“You may speak freely here.”
“Not that freely.”
“Take your time. We have it. Since we don’t have a current Pope John, can you recall which John it was?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t one from the past, so it was just a dream.”
Eiddwen spoke to the masle, “There are several planes with a John XXIV. Some are very close to ours, and ours may be flowing in similar ways.”
Sarita declared, “There was no John XXIV. The last John was the Twenty-Third.”
“You know your Popes.”
“I’m Catholic.”
“You pay attention,” Myer stated.
“Why does it matter which Pope John it was?”
“Because some planes have a current John.” The look he received was dubious. “For now, you don’t have to believe any of this.”
“You think I dreamt about another dimension?”
“It would seem so.”
“Whatever you want to believe.” Sarita looked the room over again, then asked, “Am I a prisoner?”
“No.”
“Then I want my clothes. I also want Yvette’s clothes – and my phone. I’m calling for an ambulance and we’re leaving.”
“I can’t allow that.”
“Then we’re prisoners. This is a kidnapping.”
“You’re our guest.”
“A guest who can’t leave.”
“I’m afraid so,” the masle declared.
“Then we’re your prisoners. Say it as it is.”
“We’re protecting you.”
“I’m finding that hard to believe. Protecting us from what?”
“For now, from Eblin’s sister. Caroline may try to finish what he started. I doubt she would, but I’m not taking that chance. Eblin might have other people hunting Yvette.”
“Hunting?”
“I’m sorry. I know this sounds strange to outsiders.”
“Crazy is more like it,” Sarita stated. Her eyes betrayed her thoughts of flight, as she assessed her options.
“Ma’am,” Eiddwen addressed in a soothing tone. “You should stay here. All of us will protect you.” She then responded to another flickering of the plump woman’s pitch-brown eyes. “The police are not familiar with any of this and will not be able to help you.”
“How did you…. Never mind.” To the man, “Could I get my clothes?”
“They should be clean and dry. I suppose you could go. I wish you would stay. Yvette has to, but I suppose there’s no reason to hold you here.”
“I’m not leaving without her.”
“Admirable.”
“We’re both leaving.”
“Your phone is in your car and both cars are locked in the carriage house. I’m sorry. You’re not taking Yvette.”
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
“We have to. Eblin started something. Until we know how Raanana is going to react, this is what has to happen.”
“What does Raana have to do with this? She should be told Yvette is hurt.”
“She will be – after we know more. She may already know.”
“Give me Yvette’s phone. I’ll tell her.”
“You know I can’t let you do that.”
“I don’t know anything. That’s the problem.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“You told me enough. You’re all crazy. Alternate planes? This is all nuts. Please let us go.”
“Ma’am,” the blonde addressed the younger. “Please stay.” To Myer, “Let me talk with her. I’ll get things calmed.”
With a nod, he responded, “Of course.” Pushing from the chair, “I remind her of the attack too much.” To Sarita, “You’re our guest. I’ll let Eiddwen tell you what we know, which is precious little. In the morning, you’ll meet someone who may be able to elaborate on the situation. If she feels it wise, you can call Raanana.”
“It’s Raana.”
“That’s a shorter, less formal variant I’m not comfortable with. I’ll see you in the morning. Try to rest. And, please tell Eiddwen of the dream. It is important to us.”
The man departed. Sarita looked at the blonde. “I take it you believe this nonsense – this alternate reality thing.”
“I do. We have a man who’s gaining insights from a place where Adolph was assassinated early in the war.”
“So,” the brunette asked, going along with the delusion, “World War II went good for us?”
“Depends on who us is. With what we put together, France and Egypt remained under the Reich German flag – though fascism was driven underground. America didn’t get fully involved. The Germans gained nuclear weaponry before the others and held a good portion of Europe. Greece rose as a world power. The Jewish population in Germany did well under the new regime. The assassination prevented the Holocaust. The new leadership embraced the ethnics and it strengthened Germany’s position – though there were struggles. Einstein even returned to his nation of birth.”
“Great,” Sarita stated in open sarcasm.
“Let’s talk of your dream. It won’t matter if you believe any of this or not.”
“I guess it won’t. What do you want to know?”
The conversation went on for over an hour until Sarita’s eyes became droopy and she scooted down to a more relaxed position. They chatted about most dreams she could recall, though retained personal particulars to herself.
The blonde set the pen in the folder. “I should let you sleep. I enjoyed this.”
“Me, too, I guess. I never told anyone most of that – and none since I was young.”
“You have a good memory.”
“I have a lot of them – the dreams. They seem related, but not. There are always differences.”
“You’re picking up on several lives.”
“Other lives?”
“We all do. Mostly, we ignore them – or they’re forgotten.” Closing the folder, Eiddwen rose, telling the brunette, “Sleep well.”
“Not while Yvette is like this,” Sarita responded, shifting to hold her friend, attempting to warm the cool form.
Eiddwen watched a moment at the door, then shut it, leaving the students in the dark. The hearth fire was down to embers. The blonde went to Myer’s den, finding him alone in thought.
“Sire?”
“How is she?”
“Better. Do you have time?”
The masle gestured to a chair at his left. “All night, it would seem.”
Taking the seat in a similar fashion as upstairs, “Not going to question Eblin some more?”
“He won’t be talking for a while.”
“I see. What happened?”
“He gained a backbone to add to his distrustful nature. Very unbecoming – and irritating.” Bringing his full attention to the woman, “You must have something.”
“A few things. She’s definitely a traveler. Strong one at that. She has a good perspective.”
“She didn’t seem to think so.”
“She’s still growing into it. She’s worried about her sanity, but she’s calmer now.”
“That’s good. Did you get a sense from Yvette?”
“It will be a while before she wakes. She’s fighting to live.”
“I felt that.”
“Those two are close,” the blonde told him. The man nodded. Eiddwen added, “Sarita’s outcry about the Vatican is interesting.”
“There was nothing in the news. We called friends in Italy and they’re fine.”
“They may not be in a few years.”
“Premonitions?”
“I believe so. It appears she also sees Joselynn succeeding the next President’s second term. The upcoming presidential election will likely see a breaking of the race barrier, though there is an assassination attempt early in his presidency.”
“That fits our plane, as we see it unfolding.”
“It does. It should be clearer when Joselynn becomes the Governor of Pennsylvania.”
“That might be tricky for a state Secretary of Transportation.”
“Modern politics are a tricky affair.”
“That assassination attempt appears significant,” Myer muttered. “A lot seems to change at that moment.”
“There are other differences prior to that attempt. What will we do when he becomes President?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t affect us.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am. We’ll do nothing about it. Senator Obama seems destined to take office and he lives either way. Other changes come from those events. Which path is more beneficial is unclear.”
The blonde nodded. “Sarita saw other events I’m intrigued about. She’s interested in working for NASA. She has a great interest in the sciences and thinks it’s why she’s into science fiction. I feel it’s the other way around. More that her interest in other worlds and beings beyond here steered her curiosity towards science fiction, leading to her pursuit in science.”
“Why would that interest us?” the masle asked, cocking his head. “We have no such pursuits.”
“As you told her, we’re connected.”
“This connection through Eblin and Caroline will be severed once that sister is dealt with.”
“I think more is unfolding around us. Sarita has an active guardian. I felt her.”
“Her?”
Nodding, Eiddwen elaborated, “I don’t think Sarita is fully aware of her, but she is acting from the guidance. That’s why Sarita and Yvette became close.”
“Do you know why they were brought together?”
“Related to the guardian activities?” Receiving a nod, “Not yet; however, I sense we will know soon enough.”
“Soon enough for what?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Could this help with Mistress Fontaine?”
“It may,” the blonde replied, “though I’m not sure how.”
“Fascinating.”
“Indeed, it is.”
“Thank you. This gives me more to consider.”
“I’m glad. I don’t think there’s much more for now. I’m going to the library and look through a few of the journals. If you would like to discuss more, I’ll be pleased to.”
“I’m fine for now.”
“Would you like company? I could send Nikhil in.”
“He has classes in the morning.”
“I could stay, if you like.”
“That’s nice, but I should just think for now. Lavina will be here in a few hours.”
Rising, “If you change your mind….” The femella let the offer hang naturally while she swished elegantly from the room.
The man sat in the firelight, contemplating all he knew and how it led to this moment. He felt a profound transformation in their lives took place, yet little had happened. Eblin didn’t mean much. Neither did his sister, yet there was great change. The masle felt it as much as Eiddwen.
Myer’s manservant entered with a woman whose poise exceeded her modest stature. The patriarch glanced to the window with the morning glow peeking along the edge of the heavy drapes. A quick check of the clock and fireplace told the masle he had lost track of time.
Looking into the woman’s upturned paisley eyes—darker than his, complementing her more golden complexion, slightly darker than his—he attempted to assess her mood.
“Myer,” the woman addressed softly, as he rose to greet her. “It’s not as bad as that.”
“I hope not.” Stepping close, taking Lavina’s dainty left hand, he kissed the silver ring on the small finger. The ring presented an image resembling a curly haired Venus figurine displayed in a museum of antiquities. “Welcome to Cambridge.”
Taking the man in her arms, “Thank you.” She then kissed his left cheek, releasing him.
“I’ll get drinks,” Jeremy told them.
“And something to nibble,” Myer added.
There was an unspoken agreement from the woman and the two sat while the other departed.
Lavina told Myer, “I talked to Raana when we got in the air. She’s on her way. She should be here sometime tomorrow evening.”
“Lovely,” the masle toned, reflecting the nervous mood permeating throughout the home.
“There’s no doubt Raana is upset, though she appreciates what you did.”
“I hope so. Did you explain all of it.”
“Not all. Some has to be discussed with her here, once I have a chance to catch up.”
“Is she aware Yvette may not be awake when she arrives.”
“I explained that. I’m sure she understands what to expect.”
“How do you think she’ll respond?”
“Better than with Bethany.”
“I sure hope so. None of us knew Yvette was in the neighborhood.”
“Raana is aware of that, as well. Her daughter isn’t on the same path. Yvette is going to college here – nothing more.”
“I found out. We smelled Eblin and were tracking him when this happened.”
“So you told me when you called.”
The two discussed matters – partaking of the light nectar, toasted bread, sliced meats and cheeses that Jeremy brought on a silver tray – then Lavina expressed, “I wish to talk to Eblin.”
“He’s still recovering. I drained him.”
“Why?”
“I want the sister.”
“We all do. Who’s going to be there when he recovers?”
“My soldiers.”
“I see.”
“He should come to later today. I hope to have Caroline by tomorrow morning. I’m sure she’s nearby. We haven’t picked up the scent, but I doubt she’ll be far from Eblin. Both were on the run.”
“I’m sure she’ll remain close. Are you feeling all right?”
Myer finished the bite of lightly seared, spicy lamb. “Better. My stomach’s soothing. I’ve held you up too long. Your room is waiting. I’ll see you to it.”
“I’m fine for now. I napped on the plane. I would like to see Yvette.”
“She’s still sleeping with Sarita.”
“That’s all right. I just want to see her.”
“As you wish. I advise caution. Yvette’s friend is touchy. Sarita is having night terrors.”
“I expect she would.”
Standing, the masle told Lavina, “We’re sure there will be others.”
At the door to the bed chamber, Lavina eased the knob and slipped in silently. The man remained in the hall while the more mature woman observed the two youthful femellas, marveling at the way Sarita held her friend. She watched for a couple minutes, then slipped out as silently as she entered.
Once the door was shut, Lavina commented softly to Myer, “They’re sleeping peacefully enough now.”
“Good. Sarita woke from a night terror earlier. With what she experienced, I doubt she’ll sleep soundly for days.”
“Little we can do about that for now.” Setting a hand on the man’s arm, “You’re more troubled than you need to be.”
“It’s been a troubling evening.”
“I could comfort you.”
“I doubt I would be good company. I keep forgetting how my stomach reacts to us.”
“Later then?”
He nodded with an affectionate smile. “That would be nice.”
“We’ll smooth the feathers with Mistress Fontaine.” With a pleasant squeeze, she requested, “Please show me the room you set for my stay. I wish to make a call.”
“Raanana?”
“Canada.”
* * *