The staff he assumed was Solomon’s—and his right to destroy as befits the winner in this challenge. Solomon would have known he’d take it. Solomon would have known … known that he couldn’t win such a vote. Not with this council …
Palavar looked up sharply. Saw the smile, the glint in Solomon’s eyes, and he dropped the staff, just as he raised his own and focused his energies on the roots and the vines and the branches. Attack—he started to command, but there wasn’t time.
Solomon had it all planned too well.
The staff—the hollow cylinder packed with C4 and a timer—detonated at that exact moment, with such force that Palavar and half the council table exploded in a mass of smoking splinters, blood, bone and gore.
O O O
Solomon was ready, and the instant Palavar’s control vanished and his brain was blasted into nothingness, he assumed control. His chair blew backwards in the force of the explosion, but was held in place enough by the roots and vines to protect him from the blast.
The others—most would not be so fortunate. But Solomon couldn’t take that chance. He wriggled free of the smoking restraints, at the same time feeling out with his mind, caressing and controlling the vegetation’s, seeking into the very cellular structures of the roots and the branches and overgrowth; he felt the vegetation screaming in agony and shock, and he soothed where he could.
But first, he stood up and raised his hand, and through the smoke and the flames, he felt it: the arch-druid’s staff. It was smoking and burnt, but such a thing was tough, thrown across the room. He sought with his mind, found it and called it to him, and it came, hurled across the flames and over mangled bodies. It came on the winds and landed in his right hand.
Solomon breathed deep, then exhaled, harnessing the connection he now forged with this staff, this ancient thing carved from a tree more ancient than any still standing on the planet, a weapon and tool passed down through the millennia, from a time when wizards had shepherded the ignorant and brought them out of caves and taught them fire and astrology and ways to harness the elements, and were thought of as gods in their own right.
He gripped the staff tightly, then waved it twice across the wreckage of the council room. Snowflakes appeared in a gusty, icy wind that suffocated the fires and dissipated the smoke, and all became clear.
More than half the table was a splintered, smoldering wreck. Harrison Nye and Montgomery appeared to be decapitated; at least their bodies were not in sight, only the heads with bits of hair and skull and teeth with frost now on the hollow eye sockets.
Angelica and Belgar Tinman crawled and whimpered, covered in blood. Heidi had a sharp white bone sticking out through her shoulder, and seemed to be trying to sing some ancient healing ballad, but the verse never finished. She shuddered, coughed up a pint of blood and lay still.
Morris Tildershines, somehow among them all, seemed unfazed, with just a spray of someone’s blood on his forehead and snowflakes collecting on his spectacles. He opened his eyes and with dismay, turned toward Solomon.
“I …”
“I know,” Solomon said. “You’d like to change your vote.”
O O O
He regarded the three surviving members of the Council with indifference. “I could show contempt,” he addressed them. “Or seek vengeance, but that is for the petty. For those who lack vision, for those who can’t see the true path.”
“Please,” Morris said. He struggled in the block of ice that rooted him to the floor. The winds whipped and chilled, and icicles hung from his nose and the panes of his frosted glasses.
Beside him, Angelica seemed unfazed by the cold, but at least had given up her struggles. One eye had been blackened, hit with some burning shrapnel, and she struggled to see. “Solomon, don’t do this.”
“At least kill us,” Belgar said dourly. “I don’t like the cold.”
“I know,” Solomon said, “and I guess I’m sorry, but roots and vines? Well, they’re too unpredictable, and cold … cold can last forever under the right conditions, and ice can be as strong as steel. I’ve enchanted the circle … and what’s left of this cottage with a powerful charm. Combined with the existing cloaking spell, no one will ever find you. You will all sleep and hopefully, dream sweet cold dreams of how you could have shared in my glory, in the glory of a world restored. Of a Green Kingdom.”
“You’re insane,” Belgar spat, his wild curly hair frozen in place over his eyes. “We have followers, they will know. They will seek us, and—”
“Already on that,” Solomon said. “The word’s gone out. Change in leadership. Out with the old, in with the … bold.”
He raised his new staff, admiring the scorch marks that had given it added character. He’d have to decide what to do with his old one, which was waiting for him back in the limo, and not a meek instrument by any means. Maybe Gabriel might one day rise in worth to earn it.
But for now, it was time to move on. Free of the restraints of the past, free of those who had failed to see the truth, those blind to their true destiny.
“I’ll come back for you,” he said. “When my Kingdom has come and you can no longer affect its outcome. On that day, you will thank me and see that I am its deliverer, I am its savior—and yours.”
“But, Arch-Druid …” Morris spoke up, giving one last attempt at reverence and misplaced flattery. “We should—”
Solomon waved the staff in a nonchalant upward movement. The ice expanded, ascending fast and covering his face, devouring his head, just as it did to the others, locking their horrified expressions in place.
“Meeting adjourned, my fellow druids. Sleep well.”
Chapter 4
Mason arrived at Solstice Headquarters promptly at 7:30 AM Monday morning, parking his car in a free spot not too far from the main entrance. Surprisingly, most of the lot was already full, and as he stood up and surveyed the ground and listened to the enthusiastic greeting from the birds flocking about the spruce trees or fluttering around the Solstice building, he was struck by the notion that maybe most of the employees actually stayed here overnight. And how many more, being environmentally conscious as they were, biked or walked into work?
He let the sunlight peeking around the western edge of the Solstice building sprinkle on his face and dazzle his eyes, and he took a calming breath. He couldn’t remember many mornings at the station where the air tasted this sweet, the texture this profound. It was the start of something new, something brimming with potential, like the first sip of delectable vintage, but still Mason hesitated.
There was still time to back out. To retreat to the comfort of pure meteorology, to a place he belonged, without risk. But life was risk, and life had changed. Everything he thought he knew, everything he had come to reconcile about the unfairness of life, the cruelty of fate, was now up in the air. The walls of the impossible had been stormed, and the word “never” no longer held such a dark, immutable meaning.
Shelby was cured and maybe, just maybe, a similar future lay in the cards for Lauren.
He had to risk it, but not just for his own selfish reasons. If Solstice truly had some potentially life-saving technology, something that could change the world in a practical sense, just as landing on the moon had changed the mindset of the entire human race, what else could be achieved?
Mason found he was striding now, beating a brisk pace to the front door—
—which refused to open at his approach.
A lone camera swiveled overhead, the sentry to the monolith of blackness lording above it.
And a speaker crackled through with a woman’s voice. “Be right with you, Mr. Grier.”
Mason fidgeted. “Okay.” He carried a briefcase with him, leather strap over his shoulder. Shifting it, he glanced around uncomfortably, and tried to make out shapes inside through the tinted windows, imagining them bustling about, perhaps cleaning up after some bloodthirsty pagan sacrifice.
Moments later, the door clicked and opened inward. He blinked a
nd let his eyes adjust to the beauty that greeted him. Red-haired, pale skin and slightly chilled blue eyes with just a few sprinkled freckles across her forehead, the greeter smiled at him and he had to wonder if she were just a bit older than Shelby.
“Hi,” he stammered. “Mason Grier.”
She thrust out a slender hand to shake his. She wore a light green blouse with an ivory silk scarf around her neck, accessorized with gold bracelets and a collection of thin silver bands. Casual hiking boots over jeans completed the natural look and set Mason a little more at ease while making him feel overdressed in his navy suit and his producer’s favorite weather tie: a paisley blend of reds and blues.
“Delighted,” she said cheerfully. “I’m Hespera Milne, and I guess I’m what you call an HR rep. At least I am today. We all wear many hats and help out where needed, as you’ll find out soon enough.”
“Okay,” Mason said, following her inside after letting go of her surprisingly cool hand. He stepped into the lobby and found it generously humid, lacking in air conditioning, but refreshed continuously by breezes from several directions, rustling the foliage overhead, fluttering leaves in the courtyard. “About that … I’m a little unclear of my expectations at the moment. And since you’re in HR, maybe we can go over those as well as the boring basic stuff. Like—”
“Health care, direct deposit?” She grinned back at him. “Don’t sweat it, we’ve got it all written up, just need your signature. Before you’re finished with morning tea—or coffee—whichever’s your preference, it’ll be done. Now come on, Solomon doesn’t want you worrying about anything else right now except getting acclimated, taking a tour, meeting some colleagues and feeling comfortable around us.”
Mason nodded, still marveling at the view from down here, following the quiet elevator track up to the rooftop level where he had witnessed such wonders. He smiled to a few others milling around, sipping tea and sitting on exquisitely hand-carved wooden chairs. “So where is Mr. Solomon?”
Hespera hugged an older woman as she rounded the first stone around the resting grove, exchanged a bit of muted small talk, introduced Mason, then moved on through the grove, past others, smiling and nodding to him.
“Solomon is at an annual shareholder meeting in Fresno.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize Solstice was publicly traded.”
“It’s not. But we still have investors, and Solomon likes to keep them happy.”
“And are they?” he wondered. “With Solstice’s performance and potential, I can imagine they are, but I wonder what sort of control investors might have? Avery Solomon doesn’t strike me as a man who likes to yield control. To shareholders, board members, or anyone else.”
“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” Hespera countered, just as cheerfully. “As you’ll see, he’s very keen on sharing ideas, on delegating and most importantly, listening.”
He paused as they walked under a trellis. “Is that mistletoe?”
Hespera nodded with a grin. “Of course, but don’t get excited. Workplace PDA isn’t highly approved of here, but neither is it discouraged.”
She gave him a wink, then turned and headed for a descending staircase.
“Come on, now you’ll see where all the work gets done. And if you’re anything like me—or like your son, which I imagine you are—you’re going to love it!”
Mason turned and took a last look at the grove, at the employees sipping their teas, relaxing in the soothing natural environment.
I guess it’s not so bad, he thought with a budding sense of belonging.
O O O
Two hours later, his head was still spinning like an uneven top, wobbling and bouncing off jagged walls.
“I’m still trying to process it all,” he told Hespera as they took a break by a natural stream—a waterfall spilling out from the tiled black wall on the sixth sublevel. The chamber itself was a vast and stylishly decorated chamber with blocks of smooth marble arranged in comfortable sitting patterns around a center pool filled with colorful fish and dazzling rocks. A lone shaft of light from overhead hit a suspended glass and split into three beams over the pond. “I mean, the library alone on sublevel four …”
“A bit comprehensive, isn’t it?”
“Solomon’s quite the collector. I mean, ancient leather bound copies of Herodotus and Aristotle, Thesperata’s treatises on meteorology …” He could still picture the rest: almanacs from every decade of American history back to the Colonies; studies of native weather myths and shamanistic weather practices from across the world. Books and binders of original observations that would make Charles Fort proud. Some first editions were behind glass, most others scanned and available on dozens of workstations.
Hespera dipped her mug into the stream, pulled it out and took a deep swig, her eyes closed. “Nothing was ever so refreshing.” She sighed. “But yes, he’s an avid collector. I’m sure you’ll get to know him a lot better in the coming weeks and will learn a great deal more about his background and what drove him to create such a company, with such goals.” She licked her lips. “Gabriel was a perfect addition, as I’m sure you’ll be. Do you have any other questions right now, before I show you the weather center?”
Mason thought for a moment, listening to the flowing water and wondering where it came from, how far down it traveled and from what source. Questions? He had so many he didn’t know where to start. Like how was all this built? Who designed the layout and why did every architectural aspect feel so perfect? So precise, down to the orientations of the walls and workstations, repeating circular patterns with vertical lines bisecting the boundaries? In fact, it was the same as the depiction of the letter O in the second letter of Solstice on the firm’s stationary, communications and even its website. That, along with other symbols of repeated triple spirals. He had seen them in some of the artwork in the halls, alongside the abundance of nature paintings and prints of forests and seas, of animals in the wild and hawks in the clouds.…
Questions? Of course he had questions, like who developed that cure, and how was it synthesized? Might as well ask about that one, he thought.
“Where are the labs?”
“Labs?”
“Yeah, for medical research. Solomon said they found a cure for my daughter’s hearing loss by working with a rare South American plant. I was just wondering.…”
Hespera looked down. “Oh, there are some areas we won’t be getting to. A few levels even I don’t visit. Special clearance, hazardous chemicals and all that.” She offered a recovering smile. “You understand. But that’s likely where that branch of research gets done.”
“Sure, but …”
She set down her mug, apparently to come and collect it later. “Now, prepare to visit the heart of Solstice, where if I know you at all, you’re about to be floored. I know Gabriel was when he first saw it.”
Mason followed her through the circle of stone blocks, yet another one of many, at least one on each floor. And as he passed through this one, he felt a slight chill, then a trembling in his ribs. He paused for a moment, looking out at Hespera and the suddenly out-of-focus room.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
Another breath and it passed, sight cleared and his body felt completely fine. “Yeah, just a little head rush from rising too fast I guess.” Weird, I just felt like I was a kid again, still hurting from the pain of losing both parents, and finding myself somewhere new.…
Hespera nodded. “Or the altitude change. We are pretty far below ground now, you know.”
“I’m not sure it works the same when you’re below.…”
“In any case, follow me, almost there!” Her excitement was back, a spring in her boots as she walked.
Mason tried to keep up, feeling better with every step after they left the circle and entered a long corridor, this one brighter and with paintings hung every twenty yards or so, primarily scenes of animals: deer, buffalo, falcons, wolves.…
Hespera suddenly stopping short. “Do you have a
totem?”
Mason almost ran into her. “A what?”
“A totem!” She fumbled behind her scarf and withdrew a gold chain and what looked like a rabbit’s foot attached to it. “And before you ask, no it’s not a bunny leg; it’s a desiccated goat hoof.”
“Um … why?” Mason’s opinion of her kept dropping, and now he wasn’t sure it could come back from this. He suddenly hoped Shelby wasn’t heading down this same totem road; he couldn’t imagine her showing up with something like a frog carcass around her neck.
“Goats, especially females like this one was, are symbols of nourishment. I wear it and it keeps me content with what I have.”
Mason smiled at her. “Okay, sounds like I should get one.”
“Oh you should,” her eyes flashed. “But really give some thought to it. And you may think about advancing it to a staff or another personal item as you become stronger. Like Gabriel did with his.”
Mason nearly choked on a cough. “I’m sorry, my son …? Is he back yet from … wherever he went?”
Hespera shrugged. “Don’t think so. He and Annabelle, Malissa, Frederic and a few others had to go somewhere down south and take some readings.”
“Readings?”
She led him to a door, then put a finger to her lips. “Shhh, in here. You’re going to be amazed!”
It was no simple boast. Like a kid in a candy store, he found himself pushing past her, moving into the center of a rounded chamber that gave off the impression of a triple-sized planetarium. Two bisecting corridors supported desks and workstations where some fifty workers sat analyzing the data from the dozens of wall screens supported on the opposing sections of the domed ceiling.
Mason felt his eyes tugged in every direction: an area where six screens all displayed satellite weather views of each continent, a reporter’s view of a tropical storm making landfall in Puerto Rico, a helicopter weather report of traffic pileup on a snowy road in Delaware, multiple weather readouts from across the US and foreign countries. He spun around and took in the opposite wall, where another twenty-five or so colleagues on headsets crunched numbers and analyzed reports from the field and occasionally glanced up at the screens that presented everything from oceanic temps and geological readings to solar radiation and magnetic field readouts.
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