“So that’s where the dreams came from. They were real,” I mumbled to myself.
“Dreams? Tell me about them. What were they about?” Mr. Becker asked, curious.
“About this.” I used my hands to show everything around me. “I saw them before – Jacques, Isabelle, I saw them in my dreams. I saw other things, too.” My eyes clouded over when I thought of the knife in my gut.
“What, what else?”
“No, nothing. I really don’t want to even think about it,” I responded.
“Tristen, you must be very careful. These dreams are not your normal dreams. They aren’t even dreams; they could be something very dangerous. Tell me about what happened in the bathroom at school.”
“You saw him?” I asked incredulously.
He smiled grimly. “So you did see him. Yes, I thought he was there. I could sense him. That plus your dad told me that you’d seen him in your mirror in your room. I got rid of him in the bathroom before he did any real damage. Did your dreams change after you saw him in your mirror?”
My mind reeled. “Wait, my dad told you about that? And you knew about the stone priest? Why didn’t you say anything to me? I’ve been scared out of my mind!”
He regarded me. “You’re right,” he said, disarming me. “I didn’t realize that things had gone so far. I’m very sorry, Tristen. Please tell me everything so that I know how to help you.”
“Okay, wait. Let’s start first with my question to see if I understand,” I tried to stall, “this — gift — I have. It’s a… gift?”
Man, I am back to my idiot self.
“Yes,” he responded. “It’s a gift given to you by your parents–”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “My parents? My mom, do you know how she’s doing? I’m so worried that something has happened to her. Is she still okay?”
“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t she be okay?”
“Well… I, I wasn’t sure. You know, because of her leukemia. I was worried that maybe she might have…” I trailed off. I was embarrassed, but I felt an immense relief. She was okay.
Mr. Becker peered down at me thoughtfully. What he said just hit me.
“Wait, you said my parents? Gave me this thing?”
“Gift. Gave you your gift. Yes, your parents. Although it’s not exactly what you think. Let’s go over that later. Your parents passed this down to you, but it wasn’t exactly known whether or not your gift would fully develop. It’s not an exact science, so we don’t exactly know when these things will happen.”
He stepped back, sizing me up.
“Not everyone is given the privilege of having a personal mentor. You’re either someone special, or very needy, to be given a mentor.”
I felt a little embarrassed and I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure if I should feel proud or insulted. I waited for him to explain, but he didn’t, so I moved on.
“Okay, you said something about… was it… something like Tingui? Who are they?”
“Yes, you heard me correctly. The Tingui are part of this world too.”
A sudden chill in the air made Mr. Becker stop mid-explanation. He turned to look up the street and we saw a man floating in the distance.
“Tristen, is this the man you’ve been seeing in your dreams?” he asked.
I didn’t need to look. “Yes,” I said weakly.
Suddenly, the day turned dark as if the sun had abruptly set. Dark storm clouds floated overhead, burdened with rain. I heard a rumble of thunder in the distance. The Thing was getting closer. Fear clutched my heart and I was filled with an immense dread that flowed throughout my whole body. I was frozen to the core; I could barely move my chest to breathe. Suddenly there was an immense searing pain in my head, which seized me. I fell to my knees, trying to work through the pain.
Mr. Becker moved to stand in front of me, shielding me from it — whatever it was. Instantly, I felt a slight release of pressure.
“Azaz. I’ve been expecting you to show up,” said Mr. Becker. “However, it seems as if you got here a little late.” Although he sounded confident, a slight tremble in Mr. Becker’s hand gave his true emotions away.
A loud thunder-like rumble echoed through the village; Azaz was laughing at Mr. Becker. The street was empty of anyone and anything else. I was so involved in our conversation that I hadn’t noticed that the people in the streets followed what their instincts told them, even if their conscious didn’t know it, and went inside. I heard a loud booming voice in my head.
“Garyn, what are you doing here? You know you are no match for me.”
Mr. Becker quickly turned and kneeled down in front of me.
“Tristen, get up,” he said urgently. “If you value your life, get up now and get ready to run. Go back to wherever you are living and stay there. Don’t go anywhere else and don’t speak to anyone new. Just stay there and make sure that Ailey and Isolda stay there with you. I’ll meet you later, hopefully, within the next couple of days. Now, go. When I give you the signal, run as fast as you can.”
“Mr. Becker, no, maybe I can help you,” I protested.
“No,” he commanded. Immediately I could feel the force of his strength. “Don’t argue, just go when I give you the signal.”
I didn’t ask what the signal would be, but I had a feeling that I would know it when I saw it.
He turned back to the thing edging closer to us. My body grew colder as it approached. Mr. Becker pulled out a long thick stick from thin air. It had intricate drawings carved all over it. He thrust it in the air and lightning shot from it. The ‘thing’ had pulled out what looked like a boomerang. I wanted to laugh but I knew better. It, too, had intricate carvings on it. He held it high and caught the lightning with his boomerang. They locked invisible forces with each other and I could hear Mr. Becker grunt with the effort.
“Go,” he exhaled. “Go, now.”
I didn’t wait to hear more. I turned on my heel and sprinted for the end of town. Lightning tore after me and I could feel the heat of it nipping at my heels. As I ran as fast as I could, torrents of rain came pouring down across the whole countryside. I ran and ran as if my life depended on it.
❦
As soon as I reached the house I burst through the door and slammed it behind me. My entrance made everyone jump. Jacques was lying in bed, awake, with Jehanette and Isabelle by his side. I could see Pierre and Jean over by the table, each whittling on a stick, while Catherine sat at their feet. Isolda and Ailey were by the fire, leaning over the crock-pot, stirring the stew over the fire. The stew smelled different this time, it smelled delicious even though I had a sneaking suspicion what the difference was.
Ailey gasped when she saw me. Everyone else stared at me and I looked down. I was drenched from the rain and I still had no shirt on. The rain had washed away some of the wolf’s blood but I was still a smelly mess. With everything that had happened, again, I had completely forgotten about the wolves and Jacques getting hurt.
Isolda rushed to where our things were stashed to find a clean shirt and pants. Isabelle exclaimed, “My heaven, Tristen, you make such an entrance. Well, no wonder with all this rain that came so suddenly. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw all those clouds and lightning. Why, I thought I could see it flying from the center of town but surely it must have hit something in the village. I hope it hasn’t caught anything on fire.” Isabelle walked toward the pot and continued to mutter to herself worriedly. For days now we’d seen smoky skies off in the distance, signaling the advance of the roving Burgundian and their violent path of destruction. Our turn was only around the corner.
Isolda handed the clothes to me and I went behind the curtain to change. I still hadn’t gotten used to changing in front of everyone else, although the family thought nothing of it. I put the pants and shoes aside; I’d have to wash them, although I doubted that the blood would ever come all the way out.
Thankful to be in clean clothes, I looked up to see Ailey eyeing me curiously. Isolda
could see the exchange between us and she put her hands on her hips; she wanted to know what was up. I shook my head to indicate that we would talk later.
My mind raced excitedly. I finally knew why we were here, well, at least how we were here. And more answers would soon come. Thoughts tumbled back and forth so quickly from excitement to fear about the things that Mr. Becker had told me. The thought that I could travel through books and there was real magic in the world was insane. I thought about what Mr. Becker had asked me and realized that after Azaz had touched my cheek some of my dreams had become more vivid. It was as if they were…alive. I remembered the dream when my house was on fire and I could still practically see the knife sticking out of my stomach. What was a Seeker and how could I possibly be anything else besides just a regular old teenager?
My mind reeled. Most importantly, the answer on how to get back home couldn’t come fast enough. I looked back at Isolda. She had gone back to stirring the pot and had shooed off Isabelle. Emotions came pouring over me as hope stirred strong inside, overpowering my confusion. This wasn’t a dream. I was so happy that I wouldn’t have to start over with Isolda. This time spent with both of Isolda and Ailey had been so awesome. Nothing could ever break the bond that we shared now. An idea suddenly bolted into my head and I stood up suddenly. I startled Isolda, who jumped so hard that the spoon flew out of her hand onto the floor.
“Tristen, what is up with you?” she exclaimed.
“Sorry,” I responded.
Ailey just held back a laugh and the family resumed what they were doing. Isolda gave me a look but I ignored her.
If my gift was to travel through books, then all we needed to get back home was to go back to my history book. If I could get to the backpack, then we could go home and I wouldn’t have to stay here and be a Seeker or whatever it was that Mr. Becker wanted. If I wasn’t living in the middle of a different century than the one I was born in, I would think that Mr. Becker was completely crazy. I still wasn’t convinced that I would ever be a warrior that could fight the Tingui. I tried to imagine myself fighting with what… a sword? I almost laughed out loud at the thought.
We’d hidden my backpack in the darkest corner of a barn stall so that no one would see it. We didn’t dare risk anyone seeing the things inside that bag, especially with the knowledge that could come with reading my history book. My excitement grew and I almost couldn’t wait to rush to the barn to go back home. Mr. Becker had specifically told me to stay put, but would it matter now that all I had to do was to go back to the book?
I remembered the force I’d felt from Mr. Becker and the coldness and pain from the other guy that he’d had called Azaz. The stone priest. I decided to wait until the rain stopped and the family was asleep.
I puttered around the house impatiently. Isabelle had to scold me a couple of times, I was making her nervous and Jacques needed to rest. The color had returned to his face; he was looking as if he would be okay. He tried to stand on his feet a couple of times, but after falling flat on his butt both Jehanette and Isabelle insisted strongly that he stay in the bed.
Both the sheep and the horses were in a safe place. Since there wasn’t anything left to do around the house, I realized how exhausted I felt. I sat down and leaned against the wall and chuckled softly to myself. I’d fought a wolf, almost jumped off a roof, seen Mr. Becker and had had the shock of my life. Besides all that, I’d also seen two men summon lightning and rain while they fought in the streets of France. It had been a rough day and, as I contemplated all that had happened, my thoughts grew fuzzy and warm in the heated room and I soon fell asleep.
❦
“Tristen. Wake up.” I awoke with a start to someone shaking me gently. It was Isolda, who had sat down next to me. Ailey stood over me, eyeing me speculatively. I looked around me. The fire was low and everyone else was fast asleep. My stomach growled loudly and both Isolda and Ailey covered their mouths as they tried to stifle a laugh.
“Here,” Isolda said, giving me a cloth-covered piece of cheese and some hard bread. “Isabelle didn’t want us to wake you since you were sleeping so deeply,” she said.
“Here?” I whispered. “Leaning against the wall like this?”
They both shrugged. People here did lots of things differently than us and sleeping where they lay must be one of them. I shrugged too and took the bread and cheese. I stuffed them in my mouth greedily and remembered the last food I’d eaten had been promptly thrown up on the meadow. Ailey brought me some water and I gulped it down. The rain had died down to a slight drizzle and I could hear it coming down over the roof. When I was done I motioned them closer. Ailey grasped Isolda’s hand in anticipation of my news.
“I think I know how to get us home,” I whispered.
“What!” Isolda exclaimed and then put her hand over her mouth. Jacques stirred but didn’t wake up. “What?” she whispered. “How?”
I got up quietly. “Let’s go to the barn,” I said and they both followed me out the door.
When we got to the barn, I immediately headed for my backpack.
“What are you doing?” whispered Isolda.
I had to search a bit in the hay but eventually found it.
“Looking for this!” I exclaimed as I held it up.
“Your backpack?”
“Give me a minute.” I unzipped it. I looked up at Ailey and a thought occurred to me. She never asked any questions, did she?
I shrugged the thought aside, dug out my history book and put it in my lap. How did this work before? I tried opening it. Nothing happened. I waited a few moments, waiting for the book to do its magic, but still – nothing. I searched for the section on the Hundred Years’ War and even found the page that talked about France, but still nothing happened.
Isolda and Ailey just looked down at me waiting patiently.
“Ummm, well, I thought that would work,” I said. “But apparently not.”
I shut the book, disappointed. Well, there went that theory.
Finally Ailey said, “What’s up Tristen? Tell us what happened today.”
I looked up at them and they stood over me with hope in their eyes. I didn’t want to disappoint them anymore.
“Okay, sit down,” I said and patted the hay next to me.
They obediently settled down and when they were comfortable Isolda said, “We know about the wolves. Everyone told us how you helped Jacques.”
I shrugged off images that I didn’t want to remember.
“Yeah, they told us how you killed that one wolf,” Isolda continued with pride in her voice while Ailey didn’t look so happy.
Ailey reached out and squeezed my hand. “I’m sure that was hard for you,” she said.
“Oh my heck, Tristen! Pierre and Jean said you’d acted so bravely I didn’t even think about that. How was it? I can’t even imagine.”
Chills ran through my body and I shook them off.
“It was… Well, it was terrifying and disgusting. That’s how it was.” I really didn’t want to think about it, least of all talk about it, anymore.
“So, what happened after you left?” Ailey asked. She looked at me expectantly.
“Well, I was kinda freaked out, ya know, about the whole thing. So I just… took off. I soon found myself in town.” I remembered the whole roof thing and decided that it would be better not to tell them that part.
“Tristen!” Ailey exclaimed.
“I’m getting to it,” I said impatiently. “Guess who I found there?”
The girls looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
“Who?” they asked simultaneously then giggled at each other.
Girls! I rolled my eyes and sighed. This made them laugh again but then I said, “Mr. Becker.”
Immediately Isolda stopped laughing and gawked at me. I sat there smug. “What?” Isolda exclaimed.
“Yep.”
I let the new information sink in and then I explained what happened between Mr. Becker and I while they stared, firs
t at me and then at each other.
Later that night, with Isolda snuggling on my side, I could hear both Isolda and Ailey sleeping soundly. I couldn’t sleep; I felt a surge of renewed hope. My mom was okay and we would be returning home soon. I pushed the doubts I had about being a Seeker aside and determined to focus on the good news. At least for now.
Energy buzzed around me and my connection to Isolda and Ailey felt stronger than ever. I could hear Jehanette stir in her bed and I thought about her. She was definitely someone special. I suddenly felt a strong desire to protect her at all costs. This emotion surprised me because there was no reason to feel so defensive. We would be returning home soon and she would be tucked safe away back into history where she belonged. She gave off a little sigh and a wave of tenderness overcame me like a tidal wave.
Yes, I knew I would protect this family at all costs, no matter what the price to me. They had taken us in when we would have starved otherwise and had shown us nothing but respect and love. I was extremely grateful to them. I was reminded of my own parents and how much I missed them. My thoughts drifted away and for the second time that night I fell into a deep slumber.
❦
The next couple of days I looked out for Mr. Becker. I was almost whistling show tunes I was so happy to be returning home. At the same time, I carefully examined my conversation with Mr. Becker. I felt almost bi-polar. My emotions ranged from elation about returning home to agitating worry about what would be expected of me as a Seeker.
Mr. Becker never showed up.
One day, I walked back to town, searching every face in the hopes that I would see him. Of course, if he was here then he would come find us, but I was beginning to feel desperate. As I walked around, I saw the ladder that I used before.
The Last Seeker: Book 1: a teen & YA magical, fantasy, paranormal, & adventure novel (TRISTEN) Page 17