“You’ve already started calculations?” he asked.
“Yes, well, as I said, I had a pretty fair idea what he was up to. I started working out calculations for what would likely happen if he succeeded and, well, it’s not a pretty sight.”
“Mr. Adams, I sincerely apologize for all that you and your kids have been through. I need to impose on you again though and ask if you can please work with my team here. Share with them all that you know – bring them up to speed – so that we can nip this thing in the bud before it causes more damage.”
This was the invitation Liam had been waiting for. Working on a problem, solving equations – he was in his element. He had felt so helpless and incompetent at helping Emily. Now he could be of use and maybe – just maybe – his work would bring Emily back safely.
“I’m happy to help however I can.”
“Okay then, let’s get going,” said the lead scientist as he immediately started creating teams and divvying up work.
Liam dove right in and got to work with his team. But after a few minutes, he remembered Fanny and Jake. Liam went over to the corner of the room where Jake and Fanny stood, their eyes tired and their faces pale with lack of sleep.
"You guys are dead on your feet. Why don't I see if there's an expendable intern or someone here to take you to town, get a hotel room with a comfy bed and some warm food?"
"I'm not going anywhere," said Jake firmly.
"But Jake, there's no reason for you kids to stay here. You've done everything you can. Besides, it's safer back in town."
"I'm not leaving," said Jake.
"Yeah, we've come this far. We want to be here if Emily comes," said Fanny.
"She'll be here Fanny," Jake said testily.
"Okay, okay Jake. Don't knot up your panties again. I'm just sayin', I thought she'd make it here in time to stop him. I'm worried about her," said Fanny.
“Look, I know you want to do everything you can to help Emily. We all do. But right now, there’s nothing you can do here. This is work for an old fart scientist like me,” Liam said with a wink. “The best thing for you to do right now is to get some well deserved rest and food.”
"Look Mr. Adams don't you get it? I'm not leaving without Emily," Jake said between clenched teeth.
Liam knew he'd lost the battle. "Okay, okay. You can stay. But just hang out back here, out of the way. And promise me if there are more explosions that you'll run, okay? Run as fast as you can out of here and don't wait for me or for Emily. Do you promise?"
Both Fanny and Jake nodded.
Liam wasn't sure it was the right thing to do to let them stay. Maybe I should have fought harder to get them to safety. Not only did he feel responsible for them, but after all they'd been through together, he had begun to think of Jake and Fanny as part of his own family. He just wanted them to be safe. But if he didn't get back to work and find out how to stop the anomaly, they wouldn't be safe even at a plush hotel in town. No one would be safe.
58. Dughall and the Portal
Dughall expected pain or at least some discomfort from passing through the portal like he had felt going to the Umbra Nihili. Instead, it was simply like walking through a door. At one moment, he was running through the collider corridor toward the large magnet, the next he was running in a land made entirely of silvery mist and fog.
The entities of the Netherworld – thinking they can send a mere child to stop me! What fools they are. And where is she? The whelp didn’t even make it to the collider.
Dughall briefly considered that he should go look for her, but he quickly dismissed it. He didn’t need to worry about her or anyone. No one knew where he was going. All that was left to do now was to still his mind and focus on the time and place he longed to be.
Dughall had remembered it, thought on it, obsessed about it for so many years that it was easy to put himself there in his mind. All he had to do was close his eyes and picture the scene.
It’s a bright, sunny day in a small village in the south of Italy. He’s a thirteen-year-old boy walking home from his morning duties for his master, ready to enjoy his midday meal with his beloved mother. He can smell the scent of the cedar trees mixed with the smell of olives and honeysuckle climbing the walls of the cottages he passes. He is jubilant for this is the day that they will cease to be slaves. Today is the day they escape.
Dughall knows exactly where he wants to jump into the stream of time. He has dreamt of it for years. Dughall wants to see the eyes of his mother’s attacker when he takes the man’s life. His joy is boundless as he imagines twisting the knife in that man’s chest, watching him suffer agony.
Dughall took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Before him was the familiar room of the confinement of his youth. A small hearth but there was no midday meal cooking this day. He knew this scene. He knew the action was in the next room.
Just as he had done so many years before, he walked as quietly as a leopard, taking care not to show himself. But this time he heard no whimper of his mother’s broken body. Good, he was there in time.
His knife was at the ready. Dughall could have brought with him a very sharp, excellent hunting knife from the future time. He chose, instead, to use the same type of dull work knife of his youth. Anything too sharp and precise would hasten the jackal’s death.
He turned the corner, knife in hand, ready to take the man by surprise. But as he entered the room, he didn’t see the man who he intended to kill. What he saw instead was a surprise to him, and a most unfortunate complication.
59. His Deepest Desire
I don’t think Dughall could have looked more surprised. His dark hair and heavy eyebrows rested over a gaunt face that looked like it had been chiseled out of stone. His eyes landed first on me. His look of surprise quickly gave way to a look of pure anger and hatred. I think he would have leapt upon me and killed me on the spot if his mother hadn’t spoken.
“Is this. . . my son?” she asked incredulously.
Dughall’s eyes immediately shifted to the woman standing across from me. At over six feet tall, his frame towered over her mere five-foot body. Her jet-black hair was matted to her face by sweat and she looked care worn. But beneath the wear was a woman of incomparable beauty in any time.
“Mother, oh dearest mother,” Dughall said at last. He had a softness in his voice that seemed impossible from such a hard and brooding face. He went to her and knelt down, resting his head against her stomach and embracing her wholly. I watched as she gently caressed his hair.
“My son, look how you’ve grown. I don’t understand what magic brings this angel who has slain my attacker or you to me, but of both, I am most glad,” she said.
It was at that moment that Dughall looked down beside him and finally saw the dead body of the man that had been his mother’s night ‘companion’. Instead of being pleased that I had taken the jerk out for him, Dughall looked on me with rage.
“How dare you come here and defile my childhood home? You witch!”
“Dughall, mind your tongue,” his mother said. “This angel of the future came just in time. That man was set on doing me great harm. I don’t think I’d be alive if she hadn’t come when she did.”
“I know he was going to do you harm, dearest mother. That is why I came back to this time, to stop the brutal slaying of my own mother.
“Oh mother, you have no idea what I have been through. . . of my own suffering, all to come back and prevent this jackal from taking your life. This. . . simple whelp from the future has ruined it – ruined my moment!”
“Dughall my sweet, nothing is ruined. Be glad for the help dear son and now you can go peacefully back to your time knowing that I am safe.”
“Back to my time! Mother, I have no time. Don’t you see? I belong here, I always have. I waited, mother, oh so long I’ve waited. . .”
I could swear I saw tears coming to his eyes. Is it possible that Dughall has feelings? Is it possible that he could be human again?
�
�Dearest one, don’t fret. You can stay then, we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry any more dear son,” she said as she continued to stroke his hair.
“Yes, mother, and together we’ll rule this land. Oh, I have dreamed it and planned it for so long and now, all the forces are aligned. Now is the time mother. You’ll be a slave no more but a queen.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that dear one. With the help of the angel, our slavery will end today, to be sure. But a queen? Why I have no such sights.”
“This child save you? But mother, I will free you. And together we will rule, I promise you that. I will make those who have held us suffer, as we have suffered. Revenge will be ours!”
She took his head in her hands, one palm on each side of his face and looked long and deep into his eyes.
“You are my son, that is true, but a part of you has surely been lost.”
“What are you saying mother? I am your son, as I’ve always been.”
“I did not teach my son to seek revenge and glory.”
“But you did, mother, you always told me that I was exceptional and destined for greatness. Mother you taught me to bide my time until I could prove myself.”
“Yes, I know of the potential for greatness in you but not by revenge and inflicting suffering on another. Is that what you thought I wanted for you? My poor son, all these years that is what you thought I wanted for my dear son?”
“Of course mother, to rule over the land. We will have all the riches and power. And with all I have learned from the future, we will rule over a vast empire. The entire world will be ours. Don’t you want to be a queen mother? To have all that you desire?”
“Dughall, my son, all that I have ever desired, my heart’s only desire, is to see you happy. And not happy from gold adornments or beautiful women on your arm or power. No, all I’ve wanted for my son is that he know happiness within himself,” and she put her hand over his heart as she said this.
“What are you saying mother? Are you saying that you will not come with me? That you will not help me as I conquer this land then rule by my side?”
“No Dughall, I have no desire to build an empire with you. I am content to receive the help of this angel to escape my captivity then live with my son, young Dughall, in an honest life. That is all I’ve ever wanted.”
Dughall’s face looked as crestfallen as a dog that sat and begged and stayed and rolled over then didn’t get the promised treat. While still kneeling, he looked away from us both for a moment then slowly rose.
Dughall may have learned a lot of things while in the Umbra Nihili, but he apparently didn’t learn to close his mind to the sight. In a flash, I knew what he meant to do.
All then was a blur of action. My jeweled dagger, the one Hindergog had given me, was sheathed at my waist. I reached for it but fumbled as I tried to unfasten the hook that held it in place.
As I tried to get my fingers to cooperate with my brain, I saw Dughall lunging for me with a large knife. I knew it was now or never and finally the small dagger was free.
In one of those rare moments of clarity and focus, in an instant my mind knew that at the angle he was coming, I needed to thrust upward. My hand was at the ready, and as I was about to thrust that little dagger into the belly of my enemy, he fell in front of me in a heap.
There were two bodies then littering the floor of the tiny dark room. And standing in the midst of it all was a tiny woman, Dughall’s mother, her hands still trembling from the action she had just taken.
We stood in stone cold silence for a few moments. She looked aghast at the heap of a body that was her one and only son. I was still in shock over what had just happened.
“You. . . you killed your son.”
“I did not kill my son,” she said. “This man was no longer my son. He must have left a long time ago. Oh my poor, dear son. . .” she said as she broke down in tears and fell to the floor, and held his blood-soaked body in her hands.
I fell in a heap too. Down against the wall I slid and tears welled in my eyes.
“Why do you weep?” she asked. “He was your enemy. He tried to kill you. Why do you weep for him?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m crying because I should have hated him, but in the end, I felt sorry for him. Maybe it’s because I’ve been away from home for so long. Maybe it’s because – well – because now it’s over.”
She didn’t say a word but gave me a brief warm smile. As I sat in that tiny room filled with the stench of the blood and body odor of two dead men, I could see why Dughall became the madman that he was. His mother was more than just a mom. She had a warmth, compassion and knowing about her that was rare. I could see why he loved her so much.
Before long we heard the sound of another person entering the small abode. “Dughall,” she said.
It was, in fact, the young Dughall. He was about my age. If it wasn’t for the fact that I knew how he turned out all grown up, he might have been cute. This Dughall didn’t have the hard-chiseled brooding look about him yet. And his hair instead of being jet black was flecked with a little red highlights from the sun here and there. His skin, not alabaster white but bronzed by the southern Italian sun. His eyes were the same dark brown, but these young eyes were more playful and warm, less like two lumps of cold, unforgiving coal.
Without saying a word between us, we settled on a story about the two dead bodies that didn’t include a future Dughall coming back in time. The young Dughall had no way of knowing that the large dead man was indeed himself from another time.
Using my sight to guide me, I helped them escape their bondage and set out on a new life. Who knows, maybe this time it will turn out different for Dughall.
I said my goodbyes and prepared myself to go back to the Netherworld. Now that Dughall was history, I wanted to spend some more time with the Goddess before I went back to my own time. I still had a lot of questions for her. And like she said, I could jump back into my time whenever and wherever I liked. So why not stay a while longer, really figure some things out?
I looked forward to getting answers and then a long rest. But you know, things don’t always work out like you plan.
60. Afternoon at the Horror Movies
When I was ready to go, I got myself to a quiet spot on top of a southern Italian hill, dotted with cypress and olive groves. It was a beautiful place, and as I closed my eyes to mediate on my return to the Netherworld, I thought maybe I’d like to go back there some time.
I concentrated on my breath as Madame Wong taught me but soon came doubt. How do I return to the Netherworld? After all, the portal I used to enter it was far away from here and in another time. I wasn’t near any known vortex of energy.
But I knew that doubt would prevent me from returning not only to the Netherworld but also to my own time. I focused all my thought – all my energy – everything that I had on the Goddess. Soon floating before my mind’s eye was the image of her shimmery blue-green ever changing face. I held that image in my mind as I thought of being in the Netherworld.
When I felt like it was the right time, I opened my eyes. There I was, back in my kitchen and there she was, the Goddess herself, making chocolate chip pancakes.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she said.
From somewhere deep inside came long, riotous laughter. The kind where you think you might pee yourself.
“Did I say something amusing, dear one?” she asked.
“No, no you didn’t. I’m sorry, it’s just this whole situation. I’m still not sure any of it has been real. I may be in my tree house at home right now, asleep after the slap to my head from Muriel, and I’m in a delirium dreaming this whole thing.”
“Yes, that’s possible I suppose. But you are here with me, whether a dream or not, so you may as well eat,” she said as she placed a large plate of steaming pancakes in front of me.
They were just as I liked them. Smothered in butter and dripping with maple syrup.
After I wolfed down abou
t a half-dozen pancakes, I was ready to ask some questions. You know, philosophy-type questions – the deep stuff that thinking minds wonder about. Why are we here? Where did we come from? Where will we go when we die? Is there a God? If so, where did he or she come from?
“Yes, you have many questions, don’t you,” she more said than asked.
“I want to know everything.”
“I know you do, young one. In time, in time. You already know the answers to many of those questions if you allow the answers to come. Others you will find in time.”
“I don’t feel like I know anything anymore.”
“Good.”
“Good? Why is that good?”
“Not knowing is closer to allowing the truth than knowing all.”
"One last question. Am I now a High Priestess?"
"You have become a warrior, Miss Emily and have learned some of the mysteries. But no, Miss Emily is not a High Priestess yet. Perhaps someday you will come back to the Netherworld and learn more of the mysteries of Akasha."
“What now then?”
“You return to your own space and time.”
“But when in time do I go?
“Ah, that is an excellent question. I think that this will help you decide.”
In an instant, we were no longer in my kitchen but in the misty, foggy, timeless nowhereness of the Netherworld. And before us was what looked like the portal that I came into this place the first time but instead of being a hole, it was more like a movie screen. I could see vague images appearing out of the mist and fog.
“Here child is the unfolding of critical events that have happened in your space-time while you have been here.”
With a wave of her hand, the picture became clear. It was like I was watching the ghost of a movie. The images were there but with an ethereal shimmer – there, but not quite.
Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles) Page 25