Her father looked around the cave for a moment before walking at a stiff pace toward what seemed to be a platform or a stage. They were in a wide, open area swept clear of debris by the ocean and the wind. The stone floor was scarred by long-forgotten fire pits. William walked so fast that Em had to jog to keep up.
“We used to meet here,” William said. “On the equinoxes and solstices, we’d be here, every one of us. There is something about this room, or maybe this place, which allowed us to be with each other in the same time and same place. We were a small community — only a few hundred — but when we got together . . .”
William gave her a salty grin.
“I’ve seen artists’ renditions of these kinds of things — the community waits for announcements from the elders.” William talked as fast as he walked. “They show a severe and anxious crowd. We never worried. The party started early in the morning and continued long after the council was over. I had my first drink of alcohol over there.”
He pointed to an area of the cave.
“My first woman over there.”
He pointed to another area.
“We were safe here and among each other,” he said. “My days here were some of the best days of my life.”
When they reached the wide platform, William pointed to the edge.
“I spent my twenties as a scribe for the elders,” he said. “I used to attend the meetings and take notes.”
“That’s why you know about the library,” Em said.
“Correct,” William said. “Most of our kind never got past this stage. I was not an elder, but I was entrusted with a. . .”
William reached under his shirt and pulled out a square brass medallion. Em remembered playing with the medallion when she was a child. She’d never asked him what it was or why he was wearing it. Her eyes held the question tonight.
“It’s a key, Em,” William said. “A key to the chambers here.”
He pointed to a short set of stairs up onto the platform. Standing on the stage, he looked out into the larger cave.
“The elders would meet for a day while we prepared meat and set up for the feast,” William said. “The crowd was festive, so the work was easy. After meeting, they would stand right here to tell us what they’d decided. It wasn’t like politics now, where people feel so hopeless and misrepresented. We believed that our elders knew what was best for us. And you know what? They took their responsibilities very seriously. There was no corruption. They voted their conscience and what they felt was best for us. Mostly, they were right. When they weren’t, they were quick to admit it and change direction.”
He gave Em a soft smile and turned to an ornate door. The rock door was covered with intricate, swirling designs that, if Em hadn’t known better, she would have thought were Celtic in origin. In the center, there was a complicated knot. William pulled the medallion from around his neck and held it to the knot.
“William of Truth,” he said.
He nudged Em. She looked at him, and he gestured for her to say her name.
“Em. . . uh. . . Martha of Truth,” she said.
The great door opened with a decisive crack. William pushed her back and stepped back himself. The door swung open.
“Ready?” her father asked again.
“I am,” Em said.
They stepped into the elders’ private sanctum.
Chapter Sixteen
The moment they stepped inside, the enormous stone door swung closed with a bang. Em spun in place just in time to hear the large bolt click closed.
“Don’t worry, Em,” her father said.
When she turned to look at him, he was noticeably younger. He looked like he was nineteen or twenty. She stepped back with surprise.
“You look about ten,” he said, after clearly reading her mind. “It’s this place. It shows our soul’s age, not our physical age. We are children compared to those who belonged here.”
Em gave him a quick uncertain nod and started looking around. They were standing in a small antechamber. The plush, silken fabrics and rich, handspun rugs made her feel like they had just missed someone. Yet this area had been abandoned for centuries.
“Have we moved in time?” Em asked.
“Possibly,” William said. “I never knew how these chambers worked. They always seemed magical.”
“I can see that,” Em said with a smile.
“Come on,” William said.
He gestured to the doorway covered in heavy drapes in front of them. He held the drapes aside and stepped through after her. The meeting chamber was carved out of pale granite. Twenty-three unadorned high-backed stone chairs had been carved into a circle with a large opening in the center. The stone was smooth from centuries of wear. Behind and above the chairs, there was a thin passageway. Em glanced at her father. He seemed lost in memory. She touched his sleeve, and he glanced at her.
“They used to sit here.” He gestured to the stone seats. “The seats look awful, but they are quite comfortable.”
“Magic?”
“Most certainly,” William said. “When an elder had something to say, they would stand in the center to speak. The others listened with rapt attention. No one dared interrupt. When they were discussing important issues, everyone took turns to speak. But more often, two or three people did most of the talking.”
Her father walked across the circle to a slightly larger chair.
“This is where Argos sat,” William said. “He was the eldest, the father of us all. He was incredibly kind and unfailingly fair. He was like a father to me. I adored him.”
William glanced at Em.
“Your mother was his granddaughter,” William said.
“Immortal?” Em couldn’t help but ask the question she knew the answer to.
“Sadly, no,” William said. “Her mother was a half-human, and her father was human. Another thing I didn’t know until she was dying.”
“Is that why you were able to have me?” Em asked.
“Maybe,” William said. “I think it was a gift from Argos. He was known as Argos the Kind.”
William’s face held the pinched look of love mixed with grief. Em put her hand on his back. He looked at her and smiled.
“I used to stand up there, behind Argos,” William said. “If you can imagine it, there were about a hundred of us. We stood behind them, ready to do their bidding. They only had to ask, and all of our talents were theirs for the taking. We were absolutely silent until called upon. It’s amazing to think of now, but there was no speaker system. Silence was required in order for these great leaders to hear each other.”
“Do you think you would have become an elder?” Em asked.
“Maybe,” William said. “I thought so at the time. We had lived this way for many thousands of years. I don’t think anyone imagined that it would ever end. After the last century and a half of so much change, it’s hard to believe anything ever endured like that.”
“I could see the world was changing,” Ellen the Watcher said. She appeared before a stone seat, which she sat down in. “I saw that our world was shifting. I just never imagined that we would be destroyed. I assumed we would linger here and there throughout the world and return here for the holidays.”
Em felt someone looking at her, and she turned to see Argos sitting in his stone seat. He was staring at Em so intensely that William stepped in front of her.
“Argos?” William asked.
“She is both savior and destroyer,” Argos said.
“She’s only a girl,” William said. “Not four hundred years yet.”
“She is more than that,” Argos said. “She is our future and our past.”
William turned to look at Em. She shrugged.
“What do you need, child?” Argos asked.
Em’s throat was instantly dry. She shot William a panicked look.
“She would like some assistance with her demon,” William said. “It has joined forces with mine and. . .”
; “With all of ours,” Argos said. “You are dealing with an army.”
“But. . .” Em started. “Why?”
“Why?” Argos asked. “You are a truth teller. You know that things are what they are.”
“I guess I’m asking: ‘Why me?’” Em asked. “You are the eldest — or Ellen the Watcher or any of the esteemed people who have sat in these chairs. Why am I dealing with an army of our opposite?”
“You live at a time when the final battles of the ruling class are being held,” Argos said. “Will humankind come together, or will the ruling class be able to assert itself again? Humankind has been at this juncture over and over again. The ruling class has always won. But, in your time, there is a real chance for people to rule their own lives, without masters, and, after a time, peace will reign. This reality is but a breath away. The demons cannot allow that.
“So I ask again: What do you need, child?” Argos asked.
With his words, the rest of the seats filled in. William gasped in wonder. Em looked from one intelligent face to another.
“You have all of our wisdom at your disposal — for now and for the rest of this battle,” Argos said. “How can we assist you?”
“First, I would need to be able to contact you at will,” Em said. “I don’t know exactly what I’m up against, so I’ll need to be able to reach you.”
“Done,” Argos said. “You will only have to think my name, and a part of you will be standing right here. What else?”
“I need to learn about demons, and my demon in particular,” Em said. “My father says that his demon and my demon have combined forces. I need to learn about his demon as well.”
“I will grant you access to our library,” Argos said. “William, you know the way?”
“Yes, sir,” William said.
“Anything else, Martha of Truth?” Argos asked.
“I need to know how I can be the past and the future at the same time,” Em said.
“You stand at a crossroads,” said a woman who stood from her seat and walked toward Em.
“Miriam of Geography,” William said in her ear.
“The past stretches behind you,” she said. “The future is ahead. You are both past and future. You will bring about past and future.”
Em silently wished that George were there. He would make sense of this nonsense and even have questions to ask. As it was, she managed a weak smile.
“Do you want me to bring you back? Bring us back?” Em internally groaned at her simple and practical question. She was surrounded by the wisest of the wise, and all she could do was ask stupid questions.
“It will happen automatically when you defeat the demons,” an elderly, dark-skinned man said. “Benjamin the Warrior, Martha of Truth. And your question was not stupid. Practical, yes, but not stupid.”
The man made a slight bow and sat down.
“And you’re sure I’m going to defeat these demons?” Em asked.
“Why do you doubt?” William asked.
“Because humans tried me as a witch,” Em said. “It was humans who jailed me, beat me, raped me, and belittled me, and it was humans who hanged me. Humans — not demons.”
When she finished, the elders spoke in hushed tones to each other.
“How do I defeat the demons when human beings are more than willing to do their bidding?” Em asked.
“You will find a way,” Argos said.
“I’ll find a way,” Em said under her breath. She shrugged and raised an eyebrow to indicate that Argos’ statement wasn’t helpful.
“Do you have any other questions?” Argos asked.
“That’s all I can think of right now,” Em said. She bit her lip to keep from asking again how exactly she was going to beat the demons.
“Very well,” Argos said. “The library is yours. William?”
For a moment, William and Argos shared a look. William ended the look with a slight bow.
“This way,” William said.
He gestured to a door off the passageway above the stone seats. Em climbed the steep stone steps to the passageway. When she looked back, the stone chairs were empty again. The elders were gone. She felt a sudden chill and shivered.
“What happened?” William asked.
“I have this feeling of . . . foreboding, I guess,” Em said.
“You mean, you feel the loss of them,” William said. “As if they are truly gone forever.”
Em nodded.
“I feel it, too,” William said.
He held back the curtains, and Em walked through. She gasped. She was standing in a football-field-sized room. Books lined wall shelves from the floor to somewhere beyond her sight above. Feeling movement, she turned to look.
A small, thin man was standing next to her. His skin was brown and his hair deep black. His dress was something Em had seen in the Ancient Egypt exhibits at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts. He held his hand out to her.
“Weni the Librarian,” he said in a reedy voice. He leaned close to look into her face. “I have waited many millennia for you.”
He gave a quick sniff, spun in place, and walked away. Em was so surprised that she could only watch him. He was ten feet away before he turned his head back to her.
“Come along, Em,” Weni said. “We have much to do, much to do! And your witches are waiting for you.”
“My witches?” Em asked.
“We will start here.” Weni gestured to a three-foot-high stack of books.
“But, how. . .?” Em started to ask, and Weni laughed.
“I like her, William,” Weni said. “But does she not know she is a witch?”
“How is being a witch. . .?” Em started.
Her father put his hand on the stack of books. Words flew out of the books and into his brain. He winked at her and lifted his hand. More than a little intimidated, Em took a small step toward the books. Weni whipped around her. On his route around her, his shoulder hit hers, and she flew to the books. Her father took her hand and placed it on the books.
“It’s controlled by your breath,” Weni said. “Breathe in!”
“Uh. . .” Em shook her head.
“Now!” Weni screamed.
Startled, Em gasped and the words flew into her brain. She felt like she was watching a movie or listening to an intricate song. Suddenly, knowledge was there. She was so surprised that she stopped breathing.
“Breathe!” Weni commanded.
“Focus on your breathing, Em,” William said in a low tone. “Like yoga or meditation. You’ll see.”
Em turned her attention to her breath. She breathed in the knowledge and let out unknowing. After a time, Weni held out a chair for her. Em sat down. For the next few hours, or maybe a few years, Em sat in the chair while Weni brought her the books, charts, and maps she requested. Her father and Weni added to the pile when they thought she needed information. She focused on breathing and absorbing what he brought her. When she looked up next, the table was clear, and Weni was watching her.
“You have a great capacity for knowledge, Em,” Weni smiled. “I knew that you would.”
“You knew?” Em asked.
“I have watched you for a long time,” Weni said.
“Do the elders have to die?” Em said.
“Nothing has to happen,” Weni said. “But happen, it does. The elders are dead in your time, true. They are not dead in all of time. Through you, they aren’t dead at all.”
Pretending what he’d said made sense to her, Em gave him a curt nod. Her father helped her to her feet. Her legs were unsteady — as if she’d been sitting a long, long time. William kept her on her feet until she was steady. Weni watched the entire process with rapt attention.
“I have the feeling that you wish to say something to me,” Em said.
Weni closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened his eyes and held out his right hand. In his hand a gorgeous maple tree grew. It started as a seedling and then became a young tree, before it transformed into a ten-inc
h-high tree with wide limbs and gorgeous, light-green leaves.
“Kill it,” Weni ordered.
Em scowled.
“Kill it,” Weni ordered again.
Em placed her hand above the tree and slowly pressed down until her hand reached his. Weni shook his head.
“William?” Weni asked.
“No idea, sir,” William said. “None.”
“Cut off a limb, and the tree survives,” Weni said. “Hang one or even nineteen humans on it, and the tree of knowledge will survive. Cut down a tree, and the tree will regrow from the stump.”
“Remove the stump,” William said.
“Even then. . .” Weni said.
The tree in his hand was cut down and the stump removed. Tendrils began appearing where the stump had been. The tiny tree grew into multiple maple trees.
“Then, how. . .?” Em asked.
“Kill the roots,” Weni said. “Plant a poison inside the tree, and it will rot from the inside.”
“But. . .?” Em started.
“Yes, what does it mean?” Weni asked. Em blushed. “Never doubt your practical nature, Em. It is your beauty, and it is the reason I know you will win this war.”
He held out his arms, and she let him hug her.
“Kill just one,” Weni said in her ear. “Poison him. He will bring the rot to the others. Don’t let them draw you into a battle with all of them. Focus on poisoning the one.”
Em nodded, and Weni stepped back.
“I belong to you,” Weni said. “I was given by Argos to William for his great service. William has given me to you.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Em said.
“You will see me in your world,” Weni said. “I will bring you the knowledge from this room anytime you request it, and even if you don’t.”
Em gave him a curt nod.
“Time to go,” William said.
“Take her by that path.” Weni pointed to a bookshelf, and a door appeared.
“Weni,” William said as he bowed.
Weni returned his bow, and the men hugged. Weni glanced at Em. Before she could thank him, he disappeared. Em glanced at her father to see him wiping away a tear.
“He was my teacher,” William said. “My friend.”
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