Release

  36. Candles

  Two candles flickered in front of Cezanne’s face. The reflection of the flames created an illusion of flickering fire in her stunning green eyes.

  “Are you going to make a wish?” Johannes asked, moving in front of his daughter so he could catch her answer. Annarita, Frederick and Henri were creating so much noise around them, singing and clapping, that he almost wished they would leave. He wanted to treasure this precious moment with this daughter. Her second birthday. He had missed too many of her milestones in her first year. It still tortured him no matter how many times his sister reminded him that Cezanne was exceptional, that no normal child could develop as quickly as she had done, and that he had more than made up for his initial neglect by how close they now were.

  “I’m wishing for a discovery!” Cezanne declared. Her voice was excitable and determined, like a frantic drum, beating to announce an arrival.

  Frederick banged his fist on the table, shocking them all into stunned silence. The candles both flickered and wavered from the tremble of the table.

  “Sorry! Didn’t mean to alarm you but Cezanne has just reminded me of something. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you all,” Frederick enthused.

  Johannes frowned at his brother-in-law. It was unusual for him to command attention like this. He was the one who usually shied away from holding court in a group conversation.

  “What is it Frederick? I think Cezanne was about to tell us her wish!” He pointed out, darting his eyes between his brother-in-law and daughter.

  “Ah yes, forgive me little one,” Frederick winked at Cezanne. “But I think our little star wisher will like what I have to tell you all! Because I just heard from our neighbours that there has been another diamond find! Apparently, one of the griqua shepherds found it on the banks of the river. It’s a big one too. Everyone was talking about it this morning when I went over to the fields. Of course, Schalk van Niekerk has already made a move. Bought it from the boy for five hundred sheep, ten oxen and a horse! And now it sounds like we are going to be seeing a lot more people around here, all looking for more diamonds! Interesting times hey!”

  Frederick’s voice was filled with excitement as he leant over to ruffle Cezanne’s hair.

  “So, maybe your wish has already come true? More discoveries,” he added.

  Cezanne banged both her little fists down on the table, clearly copying what she had seen her Uncle Frederick do just before. The cake rocked from the force of her hands landing on the table. Everybody stopped what they were doing, each them stunned by the strength she had just exerted from her two-year old body, all of them waiting to see what she would do next. Even Henri stopped whining for his mother to give him another koeksister.

  Then, just as Johannes was about to scoop her up into his arms – he hated it when they all stared at her like this, almost as if they were afraid of her – Cezanne’s concerned expression transformed into one of pure, utter, joy.

  “This means she will be here very soon!” she announced.

  He held her hands as tightly as he dared, not wanting to crush her little bones but equally terrified of letting her go. Ever since Frederick had revealed the news that another diamond had been discovered on the banks of the river, Cezanne had become obsessed with being near it, and at all times. It was hard to get her to come back inside the house and even more difficult to encourage her to take a nap. It was like she was bursting with relentless excitement, a boundless energy that no longer desired sleep or food. It frightened him. He didn’t know how to keep her safe. How to protect her when she was like this. And it didn’t help the mission either, the one that he, Annarita, and Frederick had all agreed upon: to keep Cezanne away from the farm workers and neighbours before they asked too many questions about her remarkable development.

  “A few more minutes little one and then we need to go in for supper,” he warned her. Cezanne looked at him and smiled.

  “Too early. Must not miss opportunities.”

  Despite himself, he smiled at her as he twirled a finger around the one black curl that had recently emerged amongst her blonde ringlets.

  “How can you only be two years old? You should not know such ways of talking, or thinking, yet,” he whispered, bending down to pick up five small pebbles so they could play their game together.

  Cezanne shrugged her shoulders at him, took the five stones from his hand and then placed each one on top of the other so they stood tall in an upright pile.

  “This could help! Maybe?” Cezanne frowned. “Or do you think a fire too, this time?” she added.

  Johannes sighed as he bent down to crouch next to where his daughter was sitting in the dry grass. The sun would soon set across the river and although he had promised his daughter that they would watch it tonight he had also assured Annarita that he would get her back to the house in time for supper.

  “I know you see things my little love, things that you wish to appear to you, but sometimes we have to look around and enjoy what we have all around us. What we can see. You know Henri really wants to play with you, but you always want it to be just you and me, here, by the river.”

  “It has to be this way,” Cezanne answered, not looking at him, her little legs splayed out at either side of her at an awkward angle.

  “You really must not sit like that either. It will hurt your hips,” He scolded her. It was his softest version of a reprimand

  Tiegal used to sit just like that too, he reminded himself. He used to wonder if it was her way of trying to imprint her body more firmly into the ground, as though she wanted to secure herself to the earth beneath her.

  He reached his hand out in a beckoning wave near to her face.

  “Come on now little one. If we are not going to play five stones, then I think it’s time we get you in for some food and bed.”

  Cezanne moved her head around the obstruction of his hand so that her nose just touched the highest stone on the pile she had made.

  “It should be six!” she announced.

  Johannes shook his head at her even though he knew he didn’t have her attention.

  “No, it’s always five stones, not six.”

  But with her tiny index finger Cezanne touched each of the stones in turn:

  “Johannes, Annarita, Frederick, Henri and Cezanne,” she counted, allocating names to each of the stones. He knew what was coming next. To speed things up he reached behind him and picked out another small pebble from a collection he always kept for her in his pocket. Just as he made to offer it to her, he stopped as he caught a good look at the stone. It was the most stunning looking pebble he had ever seen.

  “Pink!” Cezanne clapped her hands in delight.

  “Yes, you’re right little one. This does look pink - how unusual.”

  “It’s hers!” Cezanne grabbed the stone from his hand and placed it on top of the pile.

  As soon as it was in position Johannes scooped his little girl in his arms. He could feel his tears welling up. His precious baby girl – so much older and wiser than her years – always had a way of turning something so ordinary into something truly magical. She had a way of moving him, just as her mother had done not so long ago. He flipped his right arm downwards, where her head rested near the crook of his elbow, to tease her into thinking he may drop her. On cue, Cezanne giggled her cello chime. He blew bubbles into her neck. She roared her delight. And then he swung her around in a dizzying roundabout before he stopped and hugged her close.

  “This looks fun! Can I join in?”

  He laughed at the sound of Cezanne’s newest voice. How was she now impersonating her mother’s voice so perfectly? His daughter’s abilities never ceased to amaze him.

  “Why did you say that? You’re already joining in!” His voice was lost in the muffle of her hair.

  “Wishes do come true.” It was Cezanne’s higher, more baby-like voice that responded this time. Her little hands reached around his neck pulling him in the direction of the voice he had wr
ongly assumed belonged to her.

  “Look! Open your eyes Daddy. She came back.”

  His entire body stiffened. His heart pounded in his ears and his legs wobbled. Without opening his eyes, he managed to lower Cezanne down to the ground. He heard the sound of her little feet run away from him, her happiest voice squealing in delight as she shouted out, over and over, “You’re here, you’re here.”

  And then he lifted his head, finally daring to let himself leave the darkness so he could embrace the light of her diamond eyes once more.

  “Tiegal?” he whispered.

  “Yes, it’s me!” she cried. Her body was naked and glowing as she held their beautiful daughter in her arms. He stared at them awe-struck, their bodies were locked tightly together in an embrace by the river. Rippling waves lapped behind them, suggesting a recent disturbance had sent the current in the opposite direction. He found his way over to them in quick, urgent, strides, throwing his arms around them with such force they almost fell into the water together.

  “Look what we made,” he heard Tiegal whisper into his ear.

  Between their desperate kisses – mainly ones that landed on their lips, cheeks, necks and the top of Cezanne’s head – they struggled to get their breath back. It was their daughter who finally broke them apart, giggling as her little hands found both their chins and separated them.

  “You made me?” she asked them with a deep frown on her face, and in a voice more suited for her age than any he had heard from her before.

  “We did make you Cezanne. The perfect miracle,” he answered his daughter.

  Tiegal buried her face into his cheek then, inhaling his scent as she always had whenever they greeted each other.

  “Hmmm…I missed this,” she mumbled. And then it was Cezanne’s turn to receive her mother’s devotion. First, she kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, before reaching down to the soft skin behind her ear, breathing her in loudly and urgently.

  “You were made from love Cezanne. You were made from one remarkable love story. And something tells me…that you are going to transform everything.”

  Epilogue

  Parador and Atla walked together in silence. They had already circled the rose garden, at least ten times. One of them needed to start the conversation. They both knew who that someone had to be. He would decide when he was ready to talk.

  Finally, Atla stopped in front of his favourite glass sculptured fountain.

  “Ah, the Bellesortium of Stars!” he boomed, nudging at some of the glass stars that hung from the sculpted branches of the tree-shaped fountain. At his touch, they bounced together, chiming musical excitement as they danced in the light evening breeze.

  “Do you know why I commissioned this particular design?” he asked, unable to hide the slight tremor in both his voice and in his hands.

  Standing statue-like still at the side of him, Parador smiled, aware that her expression would be reflected in the glass in front of them.

  “I believe it is intended to pay homage to our celestial provenance, is it not? To remind us of all of our carbon connection with the diamonds?”

  Her answer was quick, delivered with the obedient tone she knew Atla preferred her to adopt, an expectation that grated on her. And yet, equally, always reminded her of his stark ignorance.

  It was a game, after all. He was too ego-driven and foolish to understand that she was more in control. Atla’s mind, and his lack of abilities, made him particularly easy for her to both read and to manipulate.

  Without taking his eyes away from the twinkling glass stars, Atla reached out to his side and clapped her on her back three times. It was an unusual gesture for him to make towards her, but as irritating as such physical contact was, she knew better than to enrage him in anyway. Not now, not when she was so close to leading this old horse to water.

  “That is correct, my dear Parador. We should never forget our origins, and how fortunate we are to have discovered the powerful energy of diamonds before we almost lost this world for good. How we salvaged this planet and started a new, superior species of Tandroans, like you.”

  “It is a spectacular design,” Parador agreed.

  Careful not to offend, she took a stealth step to the side, moving herself to a more comfortable distance, and away from him. Now that he was finally talking, Atla had begun to release a particularly unpleasant odour, a scent of intense fear. She watched him as he stretched his arms up in the air and then proceeded to hold them there, as though reaching to the burning star in the sky to give him more power.

  I’m not surprised you are so full of terror! Or that you feel so weak. You are losing control now. Tiegal showed everyone the weakness in your philosophy. This idea of individual islands and fires. Her emotional energy release carried more power than anything you ever anticipated.

  Parador allowed her ruler a few more moments of quiet contemplation before she dared to push him any further.

  “Atla, we need to find a new source of energy. After Tiegal transported at the Jarm Match there has been a noticeable loss of confidence in your rule. I am sure you have been made aware of the increasing numbers who have begun to experiment. There are too many who are rejecting the traditional energy exchange in preference for physical intimacy again,” Parador announced.

  Her statement was dramatic, and intentionally so. She wanted him to be frightened. She was deliberately sending him to the edge. This strategy always worked. She would make him feel vulnerable and then, when the time was right, she would be the one to pull him back to safety again.

  Atla placed his arms back down to his side, inhaling audibly.

  “The Tandro philosophy works! If we want to experience supreme energy and health, to live longer lives than ever before, then we must protect our own islands and learn to light our own fires. It is the reason we have order, and peace, and such an abundance of energy amongst us. The old ways of connection didn’t work!”

  He spat out his words, creating bubbles of saliva that collected and remained at the corners of his mouth. Parador had to glance away, repulsed by the physical sight of his rage.

  “But Tiegal Eureka never understood that, did she? Her obsession with making a deep connection, all these destructive old-world ideas about being in love! It was her downfall.” He smashed his fist into a branch of stars in front of him, an action that created a ringing of frantic, high-pitched chimes. The sudden, pealing sound attacked Parador’s hearing, making her flinch.

  “It was her power!” Parador responded through gritted teeth.

  Atla swung round to face her, his hands still clenched into fists.

  She really has riled you, hasn’t she? Parador thought smugly.

  “Her power! Surely your fellow Tandroans must realise that she will not have survived for long on this other world, and in whatever timeline she continued to exist in? They must see that?” he implored.

  Parador managed to suppress the satisfied smile that quivered behind her lips.

  You really can’t see it, can you? That Tiegal has transformed everything you have tried to create?

  “Atla! I am sure you realise that Tiegal’s release, and the power it gave her, is only part of the problem. The diamond supply has almost depleted. Our energy resources are drained. Any species would look to another source in such circumstances,” she reasoned.

  “Then we will just have to keep making more synthetic diamonds. Just as I ordered.” Atla bellowed back.

  “It’s not the same.”

  Parador lowered her voice, willing his calmer energy to return. She knew from experience that Atla was more malleable when he was just the right balance of afraid. Too much anger made him deaf to any reasoning.

  “The energy inside a synthetic rock is minimal. It just cannot match the energy inside a real diamond. How can it compare to a rock that took billions of years to form?”

  As she said this, she flickered one of the resting stars on the tree with her elbow, knowing her celestial nudge would pro
vide the perfect emphasis to her point.

  She took a step closer to him, and inhaled the air surrounding him.

  Oh Atla, you really are terrified. And, you are exactly where I want you!

  “Maybe the diamonds were the starting point for your new world? Perhaps now, we need to look to another solution? Even if it does not exist in this world?” she declared.

  Atal turned to face her, his eyes wild with confusion and terror. It was clear that he was preparing for a fall now. He was exactly where she wanted him to be.

  “And I know where to find it.”

  She waited for five carefully timed seconds, before continuing:

  “It starts with a dream,” she whispered, waiting again, before adding, “It ends with a resolution.”

  Atla gasped as her words registered.

  “Tiegal? You think she will come back again?”

  His desperation smelled delicious. She could even taste it!

  Parador shook her head, finally allowing the smile that had been dancing on her lips to emerge.

  “No, Atla! But one of her descendants will. One who is even more powerful.”

  Parador shivered with delight as she said these last words. She had offered him the branch to hold onto and now she had him exactly where she wanted him.

  This was going to be fun!

  End of Book One.

  To be continued...

  1885, Cezanne’s eighteenth birthday, and all appears well in the Smit family. That is, until the Derado calls for them to connect with Tandro once again.

  It is impossible to destroy and Tiegal knows that the only way to protect her daughter and any future descendants from opening a door to her other world again is to find a way to transform it.