Second Chronicles of Illumination

by C. A. Pack

  “A transparent front wall, I wish we had. That we can see through the floor, it is not enough. What is going on inside, I would like to see from outside, to prepare.”

  Pru Tellerence smiled. ★That’s more than I can help you with.

  “Daydreaming, I am.”

  ★You’re thinking ahead, and that’s to be commended. If there’s nothing else I can help you with, I’ll be on my way.

  “Stay for lunch, won’t you? See our encampment, you can.”

  ★I will return soon, I promise you.

  Before the Dramatican curator had an opportunity to say more, Pru Tellerence was en route to Fantasia.

  ★

  “We need smelling salts,” Mrs. Roth said with conviction. “Jackson, do you have a first aid kit with smelling salts here?”

  “Umm …” He thought of his brush with Dracula. “Yeah.” He found the first aid kit behind the circulation desk, right where Johanna had left it.

  His mother found ampoules of spirits of ammonia, inside. She broke one open and held it under Johanna’s nose. The curator turned her face to get away from the odor.

  Her eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”

  “You passed out when you saw your alternate self,” Jackson answered.

  “What?” she asked, twisting around. As soon as she saw the other Johanna, she passed out again.

  “Maybe, you should try reviving the other one?” Jackson told his mother.

  Mrs. Roth moved over and revived the other Johanna. The exact same thing happened. She seemed to revive, asked what happened, and fainted as soon as she saw herself.

  ★

  Although Mal wasn’t an overseer, nor had he yet been given the blessings he’d been promised as Chancellor of the Exchequer, he still had one ability few others possessed. He could commune with the College of Overseers without needing to shinny up a rope to the curator’s key at the top of the cupola. He could simply use his diary, which was similar to the one used by Johanna to contact him. He immediately informed Ryden Simmdry there were two unconscious Johannas in the library, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

  Within a minute, the master overseer appeared.

  ⌘This is exactly what I had hoped to prevent. He looked at the people surrounding him. ⌘When Nero 51 appeared and said someone had stolen weapons from his library, we immediately went to Terroria. It’s three weeks earlier there than it is in this particular library, so I made sure I returned the Johanna serving time on Terroria to her office. I took the precaution of locking her in to prevent this from happening. Who opened the door?

  “Johanna did,” Mal answered. “We were searching for Bel, and Johanna thought she heard someone inside her office. She thought the youngster may have locked herself in.”

  ⌘And where is the youngster now?

  “We don’t know. We were looking for her when the two Johannas met. That’s when I contacted you.”

  ⌘I see. Jackson, please take the visiting Johanna up to the residence and place her on the bed. We must separate them. When that is done, I will revive this Johanna and work with her to reunite her two selves.

  “You can do that?” Jackson picked up the visitor. “Of course you can. You’re the main man.”

  Jackson’s family watched, dumbstruck, as Ryden Simmdry prepared to make Johanna a single entity.

  The overseer went into the bindery and looked for some gold leaf and a mortar and pestle. He knew both would be there for gilding pages and mixing compounds. He selected a few other necessary supplies and returned to the office.

  He reached into the folds of his robe to retrieve herbs and powders from within various pockets. Upon Jackson’s return, he used the spirits of ammonia to revive Johanna. He asked the others to wait in the bindery and locked the office door so he could confer with the curator in private.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  ⌘You may not realize it, but you’ve been weakened by the temporal rift. There are two Johanna Charettes roaming around and I need you both to unite. I have the knowledge to create a charm that will do that, however, only you can cast the spell on your two selves. There is one caveat though. He took her hand and pierced her fingertip with a sewing needle. He allowed a few drops of her blood to drip into the potion. He took a small piece of muslin, placed the concoction in the center, and tied it into a little bag with the same cord Johanna used to sew quires together. ⌘Take this. He handed her the poultice and another spirits of ammonia ampoule. ⌘I told Jackson to place the other Johanna on your bed. Before you walk into the room, take a whiff of the spirits of ammonia, but don’t inhale too deeply or you may pass out before you can cast the spell. Take hold of her hand and hold the poultice between your left palm—the one with the Illumini constellation— and hers. It will make the charm stronger. Then recite this. He taught her two short sentences in the Luminan language. ⌘Do you think you can remember that? It’s important that you get it exactly right.

  She nodded and headed toward her residence. She didn’t answer anyone’s questions as she passed through the bindery. She wanted to make sure she didn’t forget the Luminan chant.

  Upstairs she inhaled the smelling salts before she stepped into her bedroom. Without delay, she grabbed her double’s hand with the poultice between them and recited the spell. Everything went black as she hit the floor.

  LOI

  CHAPTER 34

  Nero 51 drank with his supporters, and noted that General Lethro 814 kept his distance. The curator would have to do something about that, but not right away. His speech had stirred up a lot of nationalism, and he wanted to keep the fervor at a fevered pitch. Still, he kept his eye on the general and tensed when one of the general’s minions broke away and headed his way.

  Nero 51 maintained an outer calm as the younger Terrorian barked, “Where is Ilio 22? The general said only you could answer that question.”

  Terrorians in the near vicinity craned their necks to search for the missing soldier.

  The skin on Nero 51’s tentacles rippled. He felt quite sure the general had informed his compatriots of the fate of Ilio 22. Whatever he chose to say would be his word against the general’s. “I can understand why the general wouldn’t want to tell you himself. Your friend’s fate was quite nasty and unexpected.

  “I had asked the general to accompany me while we surveyed the war zone. He brought a weapon because I asked him to protect me. We found no need for the weapon while we were off world, but the general was on heightened alert. As soon as we returned, Ilio 22 burst into my quarters in an effort to finish removing the weapons stored there. His sudden appearance quite unnerved the general, who fired. His weapon was set to decimate. I’m sure Ilio 22 didn’t suffer. He probably never knew what hit him. I took the weapon away from the general and told him to confess what had happened. I can see he chose instead to implicate me to save his own hide.

  Nero 51 sighed as if the weight of the world sat on his shoulders. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take General Lethro 814 into custody. His lies are treasonous and will hurt our cause. You believe Terroria deserves to be the prime realm, don’t you, soldier?”

  Everyone within earshot of Nero 51 stared at the soldier as they awaited his answer.

  “Yes,” he replied, fearing he, along with the general, would be tried for treason if he answered any other way.

  “Then do your duty. Arrest the general and arrange for a tribunal and execution.”

  Another Terrorian asked, “Isn’t it a little premature to arrange for his execution?”

  “What else would you have me do?” Nero 51 asked. “Who can we trust, if not the military commander in charge of our welfare?”

  The inquirer nodded and others followed suit. They all looked to the soldier, who backed away.

  The young Terrorian retrieved a weapon before returning to apprehend the general.

  The military leader’s pitiful squeals over his unanticipated arrest made the collected crowd cringe, until Lethro
814 was finally removed from the room.

  ★

  Jackson found Johanna unconscious on her bedroom floor. He shook her gently. “Johanna?” She did not respond. He shook her a little more forcefully. No answer. He gently slapped her face a few times. She was out cold. When a splash of water from the bathroom sink didn’t work, he ran to find Ryden Simmdry.

  ★

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Mrs. Roth exclaimed. “It’s like a dream apartment out of a magazine. And I could see the Eiffel Tower from the balcony!” She stopped speaking when her son ran into Mal and almost knocked him over.

  Jackson’s eyes darted about. “Where’s Ryden Simmdry?”

  “He’s gone,” Mal answered, “now that everything has calmed down. Where’s Johanna.”

  “I can’t revive her!” Hysteria tainted Jackson’s voice.

  “It’s probably a delayed reaction.” Mal’s own words of assurance didn’t stop him from rushing upstairs.

  Everyone followed, although Mrs. Roth told Chris and Ava to wait in the living room. If anything dreadful happened, she didn’t want her younger children to be traumatized.

  Mal did many of the same things Jackson had done to rouse Johanna with no luck.

  Mrs. Roth felt for Johanna’s pulse. “Get the smelling salts from downstairs, Jackson.”

  “We have some right here,” Mal said, pulling a crushed ampoule from Johanna’s right hand.

  “What’s this?” Jackson asked. He removed the poultice from her left hand.

  “Could be the work of Ryden Simmdry,” Mal replied.

  A trembling voice asked, “Is she gonna die?” They all turned to look at Ava, who had not followed her mother’s orders to stay in the living room. The girl’s eyes were glassy with unspilled tears as she awaited an answer to her question.

  “Take her inside, Jackson,” Mrs. Roth ordered.

  “I’m not leaving Johanna.”

  “I’ll do it,” Chris said, leading his sister away from the room.

  The spent ampoule did nothing to revive Johanna.

  Jackson pushed his mother away. “I took a CPR class in school.” He performed chest compressions, trying to remember exactly what he learned. He doubted her airway was blocked, but tried mouth-to-mouth just to be on the safe side. “C’mon Johanna,” he begged as he returned to doing chest compressions. He imagined Johanna’s reaction if she were to suddenly come to and find him with his hands on her chest. At this point, he would welcome her outrage. “Come on, Johanna. Stop fooling around.”

  Naimh Roth felt as badly as her son did, but was far more practical. “We need to call an ambulance.” While she fumbled with the telephone in Johanna’s kitchen, Mal used his diary to inform the overseers that Johanna could not be revived.

  ★

  Jackson could not believe Johanna was unresponsive. “Now you’ve done it,” he scolded her. “They’re going to cart you away and I’m going to end up the primo curator. I hope I can find someone as cute as you to be my underling. I bet she’ll think I’m her hero.” With each word his chest compressions got more and more powerful.

  His mother pulled him away. “Jackson, stop.”

  He couldn’t hold back his tears. “I can’t stop, now. She may die.”

  “She’s not breathing, honey. You did everything you could…”

  “No!” he shouted as he slipped his arms under her limp shoulders and lifted her partway off the floor, touching his forehead to hers.”

  ★

  Pru Tellerence concentrated on Bel’s location as she transported back to Fantasia. Her jaw dropped when she ended up in a dark enclosed space. There, she found Izabella asleep in a corner, curled up in a tiny ball. The overseer, who could see in the dark as a perk of her majorious longevicus blessing, scooped up the youngster and cradled her. She kissed Bel’s forehead and whispered the spell she had looked up on Lumina—one that would protect the child from disappearing back into the past.

  Stress over the youngster, as well as a lack of fresh air in the closet, took its toll on the overseer who, like her young companion, soon fell asleep.

  ★

  Furst caught sight of the Rodo twins en route to Berra’s workshop, pushing a wheelbarrow laden with stone. One of them waved when he saw the curator. “Plenty of stone for weapons, we have. Work on making them more accurate, we will.”

  Furst motioned for them to stop and hurried to their side. “Zalor, you have?”

  “No,” Rilli Rodo replied.

  “Gerylli, we have,” Roxo Rodo explained, “for grinding stones.”

  “Many grinding stones,” Rilli added. “Last long, they do not.”

  “Quite nicely, it grinds zalor,” his twin said, “but two or three zalor chips, they are only good for. So many, we need.”

  Furst nodded. “Keep you, then, I won’t. Important, your work is.”

  Rilli picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow. “Hurry, we must.”

  Roxo walked quickly beside him. “Important work we do, Furst said.”

  “More important, I am. Pushing the stone, I am,” Rilli stated.

  Roxo wrestled him for the handles to the wheelbarrow. “More important, I want to be.”

  “No!” Rilli said, not giving up his claim. The scuffle made the wheelbarrow tip over, its contents tumbling to the ground.

  “Not important now, you are,” Roxo exclaimed.

  “Spill it all, you made me. Not important, you are.”

  “Am.”

  “Not.”

  Berra came out of his workshop to see what the twins were shouting about and spotted the rocks on the pathway.

  “Done, what have you?” the inventor asked.

  “His fault, it is,” both twins said simultaneously, pointing to the other.

  “The rock, bring in. Now,” Berra threatened, “or payment, neither of you will receive.”

  ★

  ⌘Allow me.

  Ryden Simmdry’s reappearance surprised everyone except Mal.

  “What did you do to her?” Jackson cried, rocking back and forth with Johanna in his arms.

  ⌘Nothing that would harm her, I assure you.

  The overseer’s robe puffed up like a beanbag as he squatted down next to the young curators. He picked up Johanna’s left hand and studied the Illumini constellation.

  See, here. Ryden Simmdry showed Jackson Johanna’s palm. ⌘The light of illumination is faint, but if you stare at Fantasia, you will see it still shines. Her body is in stasis. She is reuniting. It’s just taking a little while because she’s so young.

  Jackson didn’t buy into Ryden Simmdry’s statement. “Usually, people our age recover more quickly because we’re stronger and healthier.”

  ⌘Your bodies heal more quickly, but your minds aren’t as mature. It takes longer for your neuro-pathways to reason out what has happened in each of the time lines and reconcile it with what it already knows as the truth.

  “So, you’re saying she’ll be okay?”

  ⌘Yes.

  “And she’s gonna be mad at you,” Chris said from the doorway, “when she finds out her chest is all black and blue because you had your grubby paws all over it.”

  Mrs. Roth glared at her younger son. “I told you to wait in the living room.”

  “It’s okay Mom,” Chris replied. “Professor Dumbledore says Johanna’s gonna be all right.”

  “She is?” Ava peeked out from behind her brother. Mrs. Roth sighed. Her children were growing older and had minds of their own.

  Ryden Simmdry looked at Mal. ⌘Professor Dumbledore?

  “A character created by J. K. Rowling for her book “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

  “That’s just one book,” Ava announced. “There were seven.”

  ⌘Do you enjoy reading?

  Ava squinted at Ryden Simmdry. “Are you a ventriloquist?”

  The master laughed. “You could say that,” he said aloud.

  “I love to read. But all I ever get anym
ore are Jackson’s hand me downs. I’ve read everything in the library. At least, everything in the juvenile section. Mrs. Keller won’t let me sign out anything from the adult section. She says I’m too young.”

  “How old are you?” the overseer asked.

  “Fourteen,” Ava replied, “and a half.”

  Ryden Simmdry thought back to a time when he was fourteen and a half. It seemed so long ago he could scarcely recall it. It had been a different universe back then—young and growing quickly, much like himself. Little did he know how his life would turn out as time went on or how a simple rock from a distant place could have such a profound effect on him.

  “Mrs. Keller is right. You don’t want to grow up before your time. It all passes so quickly. Remain young and innocent for as long as you can. ”

  “I think it’s too late for innocence,” Ava replied.

  “Ava!” her mother gasped.

  “What did you expect, Mom. I’ve got two older brothers and they have long, meaningful conversations when they’re outside shooting hoops—right below my bedroom window. If you ever heard what they talked about, you’d be struck dumb for all eternity.”

  Mrs. Roth stared at her daughter, too dumbfounded to speak.

  Chris laid a hand on Ava’s shoulder. “And if I ever hear that you leaked the contents of any of those conversations—thereby endangering our dear, beloved mother’s future ability to speak—there would be very severe consequences to pay.”

  “Very severe,” Jackson echoed.

  “I want you all to stop this conversation this very minute,” Mrs. Roth demanded.

  “I wouldn’t worry,” Mal advised her. “If your younger children are anything like their older brother, you have nothing to worry about.”

  A low moan signaled Johanna’s awakening. “Johanna, can you hear me?” Jackson asked, kissing her.

  “How can I help but hear you,” she mumbled. “You’re shouting in my ear.”

  He kissed her forehead and then her eyes, nose, cheeks and lips.

  She giggled. “You’re slobbering on me.”

  “I thought I lost you.”