Equinox (Augarten Book 1)

by Charlie Godwyne

I smirked. "Late for good reason."

  "Even so."

  We smiled at each other. Reluctantly, I held my hand up in a wave. "Well then, goodbye."

  "Tschüss."

  Back home, I meditated, then cleaned my apartment, wondering all the while whether my room was somehow enforcing the Watcher and keeping me from recovering any memories. After not finding Andrea in her office, I borrowed her phone to leave Solomon a voicemail, then stayed in the community lounge and scrubbed down the kitchen.

  Maria poked her head in. "Gabriel! Florian called me this morning and told me a very peculiar story."

  I motioned to the tables. "Have a seat. I'll make us some coffee."

  Maria pulled out a chair and plopped down, content to watch me lovingly coax the ancient stove into waking up. As water heated in the kettle, I got out two Augarten mugs, rejects donated from the ceramics kiln on the property. I found the paper filters and the steel funnel, then poured the grounds in.

  Turning to Maria, I leaned back against the counter. "I'm guessing Florian already told you what happened?"

  "Yes. I think you shouldn't touch his tattoo, or his amulet. It sounds like your ether or aura was drawn to these things, but the question is why, and how you were both able to see it."

  I told her about my first night at Augarten, and what I saw when I looked at Florian sometimes, the suppressed layer of light around him. She already knew about the plants bleeding colors when I was hungry. I then took a chance and told her about the talking horse.

  Maria laughed. "That was Gilbert! He's the work horse at Augarten. It sounds like the resident nature spirit here borrowed him to come and talk to you. Better than an angel descending from the sky—that tends to terrify people and they stop listening. It's no wonder the recorded angel appearances usually start with them saying 'Be not afraid.'"

  The kettle finally bubbled up enough to release a sad, weary whistle, like a songbird singing in her sleep. I switched off the stove and poured the steaming water into the funnel. I carried our mugs over and sat. "Gilbert—or rather, Augarten—she offered to tell me about my past, if I returned to her what I took. But she wouldn't tell me what I had taken from her, and of course I don't know. Not only that, but whenever I so much as think about telling her, my guardian angel warns me strongly against it."

  Maria sipped her coffee and did not respond for a long time. I sat back, my mug hugged against my chest, content to wait while she deliberated.

  After a while, she nodded in understanding, took another sip, then leveled with me. "Remember the function of guardian angels, Gabriel. Things like this are in their job description. He's not here to keep you insulated or to keep you alive for the longest amount of time possible. He is here to guide your Higher Self to learn the lessons you need to learn and to advance spiritually, if you feel called to do so. That is how you can live your best life, and do what you can to prepare yourself for your next incarnation."

  My next incarnation? I didn't even know what I was doing in this one yet.

  "How do I keep these traditions straight?"

  She laughed. "You've got animism from me, occultism from Florian, and Catholicism from Solomon. That's a lot."

  "And I can see magic, sometimes."

  She waggled her eyebrows at me. "Sometimes."

  "…I feel drawn to meditate and pray, read and contemplate. I think that's why I get along so well with Solomon, though I am not Catholic. And, of course, to Florian, but he is hesitant to share such things with me. He told me his gods did not wish to be introduced."

  "Are you saying you sincerely wish to turn inward, or are you simply hoping to recover your memories that way?"

  I pulled up short at that, pinned to the back of my seat by Maria's gaze. Folding my hands on the tabletop, I reflected deeply. "That is only one of my motivations for turning inward, though it is ranked first."

  Maria cocked an eyebrow. "And the others?"

  I sighed, reluctant to share something so personal, but I was short on people who were close to me, and Maria seemed like someone I could trust. "I want to protect him."

  Maria blinked, confused. "Protect your angel?"

  "No. Florian."

  Maria stared at me a moment, then threw her head back with a joyful laugh. "Oh, my! This is a wonderful development. I'm so happy to hear you've got someone, Gabriel."

  I froze, mortified at her loud proclamation.

  Maria came back down to Earth and slapped her hands together. "My dear man, you are blushing up to your ears. So it must be true. I'm glad to hear it. Florian has such a kind soul. He deserves to settle down."

  Finally, I breathed again. My chest ached with longing at just the thought of settling down with Florian. Yes, I wanted that very much, and my angel did not protest one bit.

  Maria sobered. "So those are your motives?"

  "There's one more." I struggled with how to put it. "I feel my guardian angel with me, sometimes. He has been with me through all of this—he's the only person I know who was with me before I lost my memories. I want to advance in my meditations in hopes of getting to know him better. I owe him so much…working on my development feels like such a small price to pay to have him here with me."

  Maria's eyes shone as she leaned forward, propping her forearms on the table. "There you go, Gabriel. Needless to say, I'll keep these things a secret. Is the Watcher at the Threshold still stopping you every morning?"

  "Yes."

  "Then keep meditating, keep praying, and keep reading. The Watcher is there to prevent people from pursuing a spiritual path before they are truly ready, but you're an unusual case. I can't help but think your Watcher might be protecting you from something else, and if your angel is cautioning you, then you should listen. You showed up here in Augarten with your memories wiped. The chances of the reason behind that being a happy one are almost assuredly null, Gabriel. I'm no expert, but if I were a betting woman, I would bet that if or when you do find out what happened, you will be more hurt than you were when you knew nothing. Have you heard the phrase, 'God gives us only as much as we can handle'?"

  I nodded. Solomon had said that to me before.

  She finished her cup of coffee, then stood to leave. "Trust your angel, and don't touch anything that pulls out your ether."

  Solomon found me on my way back to Andrea's office. "A number of things came in. Here is permission to apply for temporary housing assistance."

  "Good thing my landlady is right here."

  Andrea chuckled and took the form. She promised to call the office and see how much I qualified for.

  Solomon and I then walked the loop through Augarten, going over my papers.

  He handed me another document. "Here is permission to work, under your current name, but it's only for certain qualifying positions. Andrea told me there were openings for assistant gardeners at Praterstern, so you may be able to take that, if an unpaid internship with Mr. Buchinger doesn't count. You might go from wanting to work, to having more work than you really want."

  "I want to work. I'll take all of it."

  Solomon smiled, his icy blue eyes dancing. "You're industrious, which is rare and good. That gives me hope that you'll find a path."

  I thought of what Maria had said to me earlier, and what Ian kept insisting, now more unsure about recovering my memories than ever. We circled back toward the buildings.

  "Thank you again for your help with the paperwork." A priest interacting with the state offices on my behalf not only kept me from having to leave work at Augarten, but probably moved things along as well.

  "You're welcome. What was it you had called to talk with me about earlier?"

  "Is there some kind of protection placed on my apartment?"

  Solomon blinked, first surprised, then cautious. "What makes you ask?"

  "Well, after you tell me why you did it, I'd appreciate it if you either removed them, or at least modified things so other people could come in."

  Solomon's expression grew from confu
sed to alarmed. "I was instructed to place the wards on first your storage closet, then your apartment, by the head of my order—the one who had the prophetic dream about you."

  "What do these wards do?"

  "There are two. One of them is simple surveillance; my superior knows when you are in the room. The other is protective. Since your appearance in Augarten was registered as a supernatural event by our order, enough at least to wake the head bishop in the middle of the night, your room has been warded against anything that might wish to do you harm."

  Florian had done the exact opposite of harm to me in my bed last night. This wasn't adding up. "Like…demons?"

  "One would hope not, but yes. As we've discussed, Augarten was consecrated with holy water when it was built, so there are certain precautions already in place. I simply added to these. To be honest, amnesia without any other negative consequences does not sound like demonic activity. Your mystery remains with no scientific conclusions: you have no brain damage, dementia, traumatic triggering, or any other symptoms that might indicate your condition. But if by chance a spirit took your memories, they will not be able to do so again while you are in your apartment."

  "…Thank you." This was an overwhelming revelation. It had not occurred to me that my amnesia could be anything other than my own fault. This reinforced Maria's suspicions that I might need protection from something, and yet the spirit of Augarten borrowing a farm horse to come talk to me had been a laughing matter to her.

  Solomon fingered his crucifix, deep in thought. He turned to me. "What prompted these questions? I'm wondering where my mistake lies, since this was supposed to go undetected."

  My first thought was annoyance at how this invaded my privacy, but Solomon had placed them on orders, and some old bishop probably didn't care what opinions I had about my own individual liberty. "I had a friend stay the night, and he felt sick in the morning, like he was allergic to something in the room. Then when he left, it looked like he'd been kicked."

  Now Solomon looked genuinely concerned. I let him into the apartment and sat at my desk while he traced each of the doorways with his fingertips, murmuring something silently with his eyes closed. When he stopped, his expression was worried. "I'll need to ask my advisors about this before I have a clear answer. Suffice it to say, I don't think your visitor should come here again."

  I blinked, then opened my palms to him. I apparently had to spell this out. "That's not an option. I really like him. I want him to spend the night in my room again."

  A beat of silence, then Solomon's dark eyebrows disappeared into his mass of unruly curls, his mouth forming an "o". It took him a moment to recover, and when he glanced at the doorframe again, it was with astonishment and a sense of wonder. "In that case, I guess I should say…congratulations."

  I laughed. "But really, I need you to remove the surveillance one. That's too much."

  Solomon stared me down a long moment. "You are asking me to choose between you and my duties to my job."

  "Yeah, I guess I am."

  Another long pause, during which his expression grew sad. "Okay," he whispered. "I'll remove it."

  I let that silence hang between us a long time, his decision heavy and final. "Thank you."

  "Don't thank me," he said with no small amount of consternation.

  "And Solomon—as soon as I get a job and some cash, I'm taking you out for burgers and drinks. I owe you, and once I'm not your charity case, I hope we can be friends."

  Now it was Solomon's turn to blush. "I would like that, Gabriel." He smiled from the doorway and gave a small wave. "I'll let you know once I have answers."

  "Thanks."

  That night, I slept alone, missing warmth now that I knew what it felt like to have Florian with me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I knew I should be in bed, safe and tucked away, but instead I found myself wandering through Augarten, magic everywhere. The sky glowed like a blazing full moon hidden behind a chimney, about to peek out. A sense of foreboding overtook me, and in the instant of that realization, Vienna's skyline burned red. I sniffed the air—no fire on the wind. Or at least not yet.

  I staggered into the open courtyard to get a better view of the city beyond the garden walls. That was when the sirens started up. When was this? Was this another vision from back during the war? But the circular tower still had its familiar graffiti: Never Again!

  "Ian?" I called, but I could not feel him near me. "Augarten? What's happening?"

  The sirens got louder and louder, and the red horizon began to spread. Over the walls, I heard cars crashing, and screams, the cacophony rolling closer.

  "When is this?" I asked the garden. I had no idea what to do—I needed to warn someone that this was happening, but there was not a soul in sight, nor even a crow or starling. "Is this real? Am I in danger? Are Florian and Solomon safe?"

  Then the red cloud swept over Augarten, and my mind filled with one single thought, laced with bloodshed: invasion. A dark archetype enveloping everything in its sight, unhindered by the river. My subconscious understood the symbolism and fed the significance to my consciousness. In that tiny, frail moment, I felt connected to myself, to the person I had been before I lost my memories, to the person I was despite whether I had any memories.

  "This is Vienna," I said firmly. Vienna, in one of many possible futures. The garden saw this, dreamed this, and worried whether this nightmare would be the one to come true.

  I inhaled, and the deep red air swept into my lungs, stinging, poisoning me. I coughed and blood spattered my palm. I lurched into the protective circle Florian walked each morning when he prayed, though no soothing white magic lingered there now. Falling to my knees, I clutched at my throat and chest.

  "I am forsaken by the gods of my native tongue. No one will talk to me or hear my prayers," I said to the empty garden. "I am flawed—a man without memories. I do not know what I have done that has led to this, but still…"

  I gathered my resolve and pushed against the red cloud with all of my might, imagining Florian's white magic encasing me like a bubble, keeping the poison out.

  "Still, I remain undefeated. You can kill this body with your poison, but you won't be killing me. Matter is only the material manifestation of the soul. Ultimately, you cannot touch me. I will not think what you command me to think. I will not feel what you compel me to feel! I am free, no matter whether you lock me up in chains. You can kill this body, but my soul will live on. I have an angel waiting for me."

  I slumped to the ground, my whole body convulsing. Ian. Solomon. Florian…

  How I had wanted to fall in love, to settle down and live a regular, blissfully peaceful life in this city.

  The red cloud fell in drops of acid rain to the ground, searing the beautiful hollyhocks and the soft grass.

  That was when I saw her.

  Cloven hooves stepped toward me from down the path. The garden changed from blood red to darkness, but the spirit of Augarten was a being of complete and total living color. I gasped at her approach.

  Augarten herself seemed to glow. Some kind of gorgeous hybrid bipedal goat woman. She had large doe eyes that shone in greens and browns, the same earth tones of the trees around her. Her curly hair was wiry and stuck out in all directions in pale browns and yellows, the same colors as the fall leaves. Her clothes looked as if a tailor had fashioned a combination scarecrow-fairy outfit for a pixie to wear at the summer solstice festival. From her head rose small antlers. Although she did not smile, she saw me, everything about me, all the things I did and did not know.

  "I cannot give back what I took from you," I said, remembering Ian's worry. "I'm sorry, Augarten. Is there something else I can do for you instead? I do not know what I took—it certainly seems like I don't have much to my name."

  Augarten flared her nostrils. "There is nothing else you can do for me. You are useless to me in this form. If you wish to make amends, to come to an agreement, you must return what you took from my garden.
" Augarten scooped me up in her arms and spoke with the voices of trees. "Now, sleep."

  As consciousness slowly returned, the first thing I felt was cramped. My arms were folded into my chest, and I could not extend them. Furthermore, I was standing, but not by my own strength. I opened my eyes to find myself surrounded by what looked to be rings and pathways. Grass below me, dirt and roots diving into the lush ground. I tilted my head up and saw great branches reaching up toward the sky and out to crowd the neighbors, a slow but insistent battle for which of us gets our little solar panels into the space with the most sun.

  Terror shot through me. "I'm a tree."

  Yet even as I spoke, I could feel that I did not have a physical body apart from the tree. I was melded with it, a hybrid tagalong, doing human things with tree tissues and cells, like talking.

  I tried to push, but the trunk surrounding me didn't even pretend to yield to my will. "Help. Heaven, someone help me—"

  "Don't panic." Augarten's voice resonated through my mind. "Have a heart attack in here, and you'll die, you know."

  Despair filled me. How is that supposed to get me to not panic?

  The tree hugged me in tight, and ever so slowly, my adrenaline began to seep out of me. The tree filtered my distress, taking it in and converting it to something more useful. But it did so on tree time, and therefore operated on a time scale that resulted in me being painfully uncomfortable long before I began to feel some relief.

  "Don't hurt my tree," Augarten chided. "You'll make him sick with all that stress."

  Oh no. "I'm sorry. What…what am I doing here?"

  "My tree is regrowing you," she replied.

  I swallowed down my fear. "Was I grown by your tree last time? Is that why I have no memories?"

  "Well, not this tree, but yes. You could get your memories back and accelerate your regeneration, if you simply relinquished what you took from me."

  Ian's warnings echoed in my mind. "I can't. You know I can't. How long am I inside this tree?"