Second Chronicles of Illumination

by C. A. Pack

  “Maybe that’s why I feel so bad.”

  “What possessed you?”

  “It’s the symbol in the library.”

  Johanna squinted, trying to look past the infection. She could barely make out a triquetra design with the initials L O I in the center. She shook her head. “Like I said, what were you thinking?”

  ★

  What could he tell her—that he got the tattoo while overcome with depression because he thought she destroyed his flowers? Nope. It was better that she thought of him as unpredictable.

  The flight attendant returned with a first aid kit. “Will this help?”

  “Thank you.” Johanna opened the kit and looked for an antiseptic towelette. “This might sting.” She gently dabbed the tattoo.

  Jackson grimaced as she wiped away pus and put antibiotic cream on the tattoo. She covered it with a fresh bandage.

  He leaned his head against the airplane seat and closed his eyes.

  “Did they explain to you that this might happen?” she asked.

  “No. We only discussed the design.”

  “Maybe it will look better when it heals, but right now, it looks like a big mistake.”

  “Without risk, there is no reward.”

  “Nice platitude.”

  “Works for me.”

  “You don’t have to look at it.”

  “I can see it in the mirror.”

  “When was the last time you looked at it?”

  “I, uh, haven’t exactly looked at it. I got it and Logan covered it up with a bandage so I wouldn’t have to explain it to everyone.”

  “And you made up the bee sting story.”

  “Lame, huh?”

  Instead of answering, Johanna just shook her head.

  The flight attendant returned to ask about their breakfast selection. Jackson immediately chose pancakes and sausage.

  Johanna smacked his arm. “I thought you didn’t feel well?”

  “I’m never too sick to eat.”

  “Just don’t throw up on me.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it.”

  ★

  Inside the Fantasian Library of Illumination, Mal conferred with Ryden Simmdry and Selium Sorium.

  “We must retrieve the time machine. I’m not saying this because I’m personally liable for it—which I am—but because the Terrorians are going to use it to wreak havoc.”

  ◍You are quite sure they have it?

  ⌘Our actions would be clear-cut if you had witnessed them taking it.

  “I did not see it happen, but Johanna reasoned it out and her observation was sound.”

  ⌘What was her observation, exactly?

  “She found a small puddle of oily residue on the ground near the time machine’s resting place and correctly identified it as Terrorian waste product. I had a sample tested to make sure her assumption was correct, and she was one hundred percent accurate.”

  ◍The Terrorians arrived by escort. They had no reason to be at the field housing the time machine. I wonder how they even knew of its existence?

  ⌘That is a very good question.

  “I will endeavor to find out how they knew about it, but it will be difficult if I’m right in thinking there’s a spy in our ranks.”

  ◍A spy? On Lumina?

  ⌘Malcolm, you have an uncanny knack for discerning these truths.

  “Maybe, but people are tight-lipped. They’ll be afraid to give me information if they suspect a spy and fear retribution. Frankly, there’s no way I can promise them safety.

  ⌘You must be given the ability to operate unhindered. Ryden Simmdry closed his eyes, as did Selium Sorium, just for a moment. ⌘Malcolm Trees, it give me great honor to name you the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

  “The Exchequer? You’re putting me in charge of collecting taxes?”

  ⌘I could name you Chancellor of War, but that would scare the perpetrator away. As Chancellor of the Exchequer, you will undergo all the blessings befitting an overseer, without the actual title. You will be advised in the ways of transmogrification and your consciousness will become attuned to our own. But do not fear, your private thoughts will remain your own. You will be trained, thusly. As Chancellor of the Exchequer, you will be free to audit the financial offices of every realm, and be privy to the gossip that abounds within their governments. And you will not need a time machine to travel, for you will have the transmogrification blessing.

  “How does transmogrification do that?”

  ⌘It will allow you travel as wind and light, sound and heat. Ryden Simmdry clasped Mal’s shoulder.

  “I’m honored by your trust in me. How difficult is it to master?

  ⌘As your young Jackson Roth might say, ‘you’ll get the hang of it.’

  LOI

  CHAPTER 25

  The captain announced their impending arrival as flight 8183 prepared its descent into Paris.

  “Did he just make a mistake?” Jackson wondered aloud. “I thought we were going to Wales.”

  “No mistake. We have to change planes.”

  “So now I can say I’ve been to Paris.”

  “Barely. But you will be able to brag that you’ve been to Orly Airport.”

  “You’re closer to the window. See if you can you see the Eiffel tower.”

  “All I see are clouds.”

  “Maybe when we get closer to the ground …”

  But they didn’t get to glimpse the tower. All they saw was the inside of the airport and the waiting area for their connecting flight. Before too long, they boarded a shuttle that took them to their plane.

  “Do you think they’ll offer us more champagne?”

  “It’s still morning. Why would you even think about drinking champagne?”

  Jackson grinned. “Because it’s there?”

  Johanna hopped out of the shuttle and climbed the boarding stairs to the much smaller plane. Inside, the seating options were limited.

  “What happened to first class?” Jackson whispered in her ear.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t flown any more than you have.”

  Before long, the small plane took off, en route to Wales. The flight lasted a couple hours and by the time they touched down, Jackson was raring to go and Johanna was ready for sleep.

  “You want to sleep first?”

  “I haven’t slept all night. I was too busy watching you.”

  “You watched me while I slept?”

  “I tried to.”

  “Either that’s incredibly creepy or really sexy.”

  Johanna made a face and pushed ahead of him. “We’d better convert some dollars to pounds before we leave the airport.”

  “That’s why you’re good to have around. You think of everything.”

  “And why are you good to have around?”

  He squared his shoulders. “My incredible personality and good looks.”

  “So you’re form and I’m substance?”

  He smiled. “You’re my very favorite substance in the whole world, and across several realms.”

  They exited the Cardiff Airport in search of their hired car.

  Jackson peered into the empty vehicle. “You think it’s easy driving on the wrong side of the road?”

  “I don’t think they consider it the wrong side of the road.”

  “Yeah. How difficult can it be?”

  “Very difficult, so I’ll do the driving.”

  They approached the rental car counter and saw a sign listing the minimum age for drivers as twenty-three years old.

  Jackson turned his back so the guy behind the counter couldn’t tell what he was saying. “Now what are we supposed to do?”

  Johanna approached the counter. “I believe there’s a reservation for a car for the Library of Illumination?”

  The clerk checked his computer and smiled. “May I have your driver’s license?”

  Johanna handed it over.

  The clerk reviewed her license and paused. “You’re only eightee
n.”

  “Is that a problem? When I made the reservation, no one mentioned an age restriction.”

  “It’s just that I’ll have to charge you a surcharge because you’re under twenty-three.”

  “Fine.” Johanna handed him the credit card Mal had given her. It didn’t take long to sign the contract and get directions to the Tafarnwyr Inn in Pembrokeshire.

  Johanna yawned as she slid into the driver’s seat.

  “You sure you don’t want me to drive?” Jackson asked.

  “I’d better,” Johanna answered, “even though I’m beat. I signed for the car and besides, the rental guy is watching us from the window.”

  Jackson threw his backpack in the back seat. “Drive on, then,” he said, just before bumping his head getting into the vehicle. “This thing’s even smaller than Logan’s Mini Cooper.” He slouched down in the seat. “But doable. Very doable.”

  ★

  From the relative privacy of another car with dark tinted windows, an observer watched their every move. Once they pulled away, he made his way into the car rental agency.

  “I just saw a couple of airline passengers whom I promised to help. Did they get their directions to Pembrokeshire?”

  “I gave them a map to the Tafarnwyr Inn. They’ll do fine as long as they follow my directions.”

  “Diolch. Thanks. I don’t feel so bad now, knowing they’ll get where they need to go.” He’d been to the Tafarnwyr Inn more than once and knew one of the barmaids working there. These kids might prove to be a problem. If so, they should be easy enough to take care of.

  ★

  Furst frowned and shook his head. “Understand, I do not. Just disappear, how could they?”

  Dungen’s eyes darted nervously between the curator’s face and the front door of the Library of Illumination. “A weapon, they have. Without a trace, it destroys. Gone, the provost is. Gone, Elrod and Hout are. Gone, the books are.”

  Furst’s ringlets tightened. “The books!”

  “Destroying the books, he was. Empty, most of the shelves are.”

  Furst looked into the eyes of the gathering crowd. “Some arrows, grab. Me, follow.”

  One of the men who had watched the other Dramaticans disappear shook his head and backed away. Furst lunged forward and pulled the retreater’s crossbow out of his hand. “An arrow, I need.” The man handed him his entire quiver. “Me, follow!” Furst loaded an arrow and stormed the library with a few reluctant Dramaticans trailing behind him.

  He discovered a dead Terrorian in front of the circulation desk, a weapon entwined in his tentacles. “This, take,” Furst whispered, handing a friend his crossbow, so he could extract the foreign weapon from the dead invader’s grasp. With it in hand, he said, “Retreat, we will,” and the group quietly exited the library.

  Outside, Furst played with the weapon. It had a trigger similar to the one on the crossbow pistols. He used the Terrorian weapon to shoot at tall grasses swaying in the wind. They froze in place. “Odd, it is, but disappear, it did not.” He continued studying the firearm and flipped the only other moving part he saw. He aimed at the same grass and fired again. It immediately vanished. The people surrounding him gasped. He flipped the switch back and aimed where the grass had been just moments before. A chunk of earth in the immediate vicinity disappeared. Furst’s eyes widened. “Destroys, it does. Reversible, it is not. Use this, I will. Come!” Once again, the band of Dramaticans, fortified knowing they had a weapon as strong as the Terrorians, re-entered the library.

  ★

  Pru Tellerence needed to return to the Library of Illumination before she could leave Fantasia. She could not travel without her miter, so with Izabella’s hand clasped firmly in her own, she told the youngster to close her eyes and transported them back to the library reading room.

  The overseer felt her stomach drop when, instead of Johanna Charette, she found Ryden Simmdry, Selium Sorium, and Malcolm Trees conferring with each other about matters of state.

  ⌘Pru Tellerence. Ryden Simmdry stared at the female overseer.

  She had let down her dark auburn hair, which now flowed past her shoulders. A skirt that stopped at her knees exposed her legs. And her form-fitting clothing showed the curvature of her body. His pulse quickened, but he immediately regained his composure when he noticed the child grasping her hand. ⌘Who is your young friend?

  ★She is a Romantican child—spirited away from the loving arms of her mother. I promised that I would do all in my power to see the child safely returned to her homeland.

  ◍How odd that she came to be transported to this realm from Romantica? I would not think it possible.

  ★The portals were open for a time and obviously used for ill purpose.

  ◍Yes, of course, that must be the answer.

  Ryden Simmdry stooped down until his eyes were even with the girl’s. He took both her hands and spoke out loud. “What is your name?”

  The youngster stared back wordlessly.

  ★Izabella. Her name is Izabella and she’s had a long journey. I thought I’d take her home with me for a few days, before returning her to Romantica.

  ⌘What would be the purpose of that if her mother is waiting for her?

  Pru Tellerence masked her feelings behind a wall of calm. ★Her mother is a tradeswoman, and is away for a fortnight, traveling on business. Caring for the child seemed like the selfless thing to do.

  ⌘Indeed.

  Laughter interrupted their discussion. They looked at Selium Sorium who now sat beside Izabella on the floor and made a small trinket appear from behind her ear.

  Ryden Simmdry returned his attention to Pru Tellerence. ⌘Your miter is in the vault.

  ★I know. I left it here for safekeeping. Where is Johanna Charette? I need her to open the vault so I can return to Lumina.

  ⌘She is not here. She has traveled to Skokholm Island on a matter of great importance.

  Pru Tellerence raised her eyebrows. ★The package. She received a package from Skokholm Island, but refrained from opening it while I was here.

  Ryden Simmdry watched the female overseer carefully. ⌘A secret society mailed her the package to protect the memoirs of a sorcerer named Myrddin. He saw her pupils dilate, as she understood the importance of his words. They held each other’s gaze, saying nothing.

  Selium Sorium continued to entertain the child and did not witness their nonverbal exchange. Only Mal wondered what powerful secret passed between the two overseers.

  ★

  Johanna and Jackson arrived at the Tafarnwyr Inn by late afternoon. The proprietor showed them two rooms across from each other and Johanna told Jackson to wake her in time for dinner.

  So now what am I supposed to do for the rest of the afternoon? He threw his backpack on the bed and went outside to have a look around. A two-minute walk took him to the edge of the village, where all he could see were fields of grass defined by rows of trees.

  Jackson returned to the inn. “Is it possible to borrow that bicycle that’s leaning against the wall outside?”

  “Where do you want to go?

  “Martin’s Haven. That’s not too far from here, is it?”

  They gave him directions, and he headed out. He found the pebbly beach a couple of miles away and asked someone about boats to Skokholm.

  “Are you a volunteer?”

  Jackson shook his head. “No. We’re looking for someone.”

  “So you’re looking for a volunteer.”

  “No. We’re looking for whoever lives in the lighthouse.”

  “No one lives in the lighthouse. It’s automated.”

  “Someone’s got to live in the lighthouse. We received a package from there.”

  “Well then, it’s probably from the Wildlife Trust.”

  “No. It’s from some magicians.”

  The man’s laugh confused Jackson.

  “All you’ll find on Skokholm are wildlife, the Wildlife Trust workers, and some volunteers. There’s not much else the
re, although there is a lighthouse. But like I said, no one lives there.”

  “Is there a boat that will take us there?”

  “Not without permission from the Wildlife Trust. They run their own boat.”

  Jackson’s shoulders sagged. “Thanks.”

  He walked around the beach for a few minutes, but the cold breeze blowing in from the north made him shiver, and he returned to the inn to awaken Johanna.

  ★

  Barely two miles away, two men carried a small boat down to the beach at Marloes Sands and walked it into the water. Beck hoisted himself into the vessel, while the other man pushed it until he became chest deep in water. He hoisted himself onboard as well, and they wordlessly rowed toward Skokholm Island.

  ★

  Johanna knew someone wanted her attention but did not want to open her eyes. She moaned when someone shook her. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Jackson’s face. “It can’t be dinnertime. I feel like I just fell asleep.”

  “You’ve been sleeping for two hours and I think we’ve got a problem.”

  She struggled to sit up. “What problem?” Suddenly she felt wide-awake. “How did you get in here? Wasn’t the door locked?”

  “No. Or else the lock doesn’t work. Anyway, I borrowed a bike and rode to the beach you told me about and a guy there told me we can’t go to Skokholm without permission from some wildlife people.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “I looked up how to get to the island before we left. I emailed them yesterday.”

  “What did they say?”

  “I don’t know. I was too busy driving here and then sleeping to check for an answer.”

  “Don’t you think you ought to do that now?”

  She sighed. “I guess. Could you hand me my bag?”

  Once she had it, she checked her cell phone. “I haven’t received anything new for hours.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “No. I usually receive a few hundred emails a day. There’s always something new in my inbox.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t work here.”

  She tsked. “It has to. I’m depending on it as a way to communicate.”

  “You want me to ask downstairs if they’ve got Wi-Fi?”

  She leaned back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “Sure.” Her reply lacked conviction.