The Akasha Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set: The Complete Emily Adams Series
Page 21
“We build a lot of big machines,” said Fanny.
“Yeah, but not many of them have any capability of opening a portal to another dimension. There may, in fact, be only one … ”
“The super collider!” Liam shouted.
“That’s right. The Large Hadron Collider at CERN.”
Jake and Liam locked eyes for a moment while the truth of what they’d said passed between them. The butterflies in Liam’s stomach and the chills up his spine told him that they were onto something.
“Okay, would one of you like to let me know what we’re talking about?” screeched Fanny.
“Mr. Adams, you do the honors?”
“Sure, Jake. Well Fanny you may have heard of atom smashers before.”
“Nope. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Oh, okay. How to explain this? Well scientists – physicists mainly – build these giant machines called colliders or atom smashers so that they can do experiments on the nature and structure of matter.”
“Still not following.”
“They smash atoms together Fanny to see what happens,” said Jake.
“All right, you don’t have to get all testy with me.”
“You should pay more attention in science class.”
“You should stop being such a nerd.”
“Okay, stop fighting you two. Fanny, atoms are extremely tiny, but they contain a lot of potential energy. Our understanding of atoms is what enabled us to build atomic bombs.”
“Oh, those kind of atoms.”
“Well, everything is made of atoms and atoms are made of smaller bits of stuff. Particles. And when you collide these particles you get massive amounts of energy and observe what comes out of the collision. That’s what scientists are doing at the LHC. They want to see what is produced by the collision of particles at near the speed of light.”
“But if they do that, won’t it make an explosion like a bomb?”
“No, they aren’t colliding whole atoms, only subatomic particles. There won’t be bomb-size explosions, but when they smash the particles the mini explosions produce even smaller bits of matter. And that’s what they’re studying, those mini bit particles.”
“I sorta get what this collider thing is doing, but what does this have to do with Dughall?”
“Well, if Jake’s theory is right, and I’m betting it is, Dughall may be trying to use the LHC to create his own portal.”
“Not following,” said Fanny. “I thought this thing was smashing particles. They plan to open up a doorway to another dimension with this machine?”
“Well no, that’s not in the plan. I don’t think anyone is even theorizing about that,” Liam said.
“It’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got. Fanny, remember the static electricity we felt at the portal?”
“Yeah. It was like we’d been rubbed with a giant balloon.”
“And remember the silvery mist we saw?”
“Jake, I’m not a science geek like you. Just spill it already.”
“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. The static electricity and the silver mist are both related to mega amounts of electromagnetism.”
“Yes,” Liam said. “That’s right. And where is there more concentrated electromagnetism than anywhere else in the world?”
“The LHC,” offered Jake.
“What do magnets have to do with the colliding thingy?”
“It’s complicated Fanny, but essentially the collider uses immense magnets, five stories high, to accelerate the particles through a massive circular tube twenty-seven kilometers around. The magnets both accelerate and bend the particles around the huge circle to get them to great speeds before they collide.”
“Yeah, so the most powerful superconducting magnets ever built are at the LHC.”
“And so you think Dughall will use these magnets … ”
“To open a portal,” said Jake.
“But how?” asked Fanny.
“That I don’t know. Do you have any ideas, Mr. Adams?”
“Well, first of all, I don’t see how he’d get anywhere near the LHC. I mean this is a huge compound with hundreds, if not thousands, of people around all the time. And the collider itself is a mile underground. And it’s not like you just flip a switch and turn the magnets on or off.”
“Yeah, I was reading about it,” said Jake. “It takes weeks to cool it down enough to operate at full power.”
“Exactly. It has to be super cooled to -271° Celsius to be operational. And there’s a whole command center with many people and oversight. I just don’t see the possibility of Dughall being able to use the LHC in any way.”
“We may not see how he’d do it, but we can bet he’ll try to find a way,” said Fanny. “Mr. Adams, you weren’t there to hear Hindergog, but from his story, one thing’s for sure. This Dughall guy is pure evil and he’s smart. If there’s a way, he’ll find it.”
“I agree with Fanny,” said Jake. “We have to assume he’ll find a way.”
“So we don’t actually need to know how he’s going to do it. All we need to do is make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near the LHC,” said Fanny.
“You’re right Fanny. You know what that means?” Liam asked.
“Road trip,” said Jake.
“Exactly. You guys up for another road trip?”
“As long as we’re not walking,” said Fanny.
Jake was already packing his laptop.
Liam knew they had to go to CERN, but it meant leaving Emily – or at least the place where she was last seen. He felt doubt about whether he was doing the right thing, but he knew he had to do something. Sitting around a small hotel room with Fanny and Jake wouldn’t bring Emily back.
By late afternoon, they were on a plane to France where they would get a train to the small town on the Swiss/French border that was the headquarters of CERN.
47. A PRESENT FOR MISS EMILY
“Miss Emily, are you ready to go now to your next Master?”
It was Hindergog. Even with my eyes closed in silent meditation, I knew his voice.
“Ready? I don’t know if I’m ready exactly. But you’re here, so I guess it must be time to move on.”
“Lies again Youngling. I thought we were through with lies,” croaked Madame Wong from her resting spot under the large maple tree. “You know you are ready.”
“Yeah, okay. She’s still busting my chops though,” I said as I smiled at Hindergog.
“Come, Miss Emily. I will take you.”
“Okay little guy but just give me a minute to say goodbye to Madame Wong.”
She rose from her lotus position but still came only to my chin. I had to bend down to embrace her.
“Thank you.” Tears came to my eyes. “I’ll never forget you, Madame Wong.”
“Madame Wong will be ghost that haunts your memory,” she cackled.
“Yes,” I laughed. “You will haunt me for sure.”
“You will be my special little bird, Miss Emily,” Madame Wong said then disappeared. Not only did Madame Wong disappear, but her little cottage, the giant maple tree, even the well, meadow and stream were gone, swallowed by the insubstantial mist and fog of the Netherworld. It was like it had never been there at all.
“Hindergog, where did she go?”
“Hard to say.”
“But she was here, right? I’m not going loco am I? There was a little Chinese woman here, and a small house and a tree?”
“Yes, those things were here.”
Hindergog walked away from me into the silvery mist that engulfed us again.
“Hindergog, where are we going?”
“I must deliver you to your next Master.”
“Yes, but who is it? Who am I going to see? What will my next master be like?”
“You will see,” he said as he scurried along in front of me.
After a while, Hindergog stopped. He turned to me with a most serious look on his face.
“What is it Hindergog? Do you
have something to tell me?”
“Something to give you,” he said. He pulled a small item out of a pocket hidden on the inside of his tweed vest. The parcel was wrapped in beautiful purple cloth.
“What’s this?” I asked as he handed it to me.
“This … this is something that will help you. Something I made many, many Earth rotations ago. Something I made for my first mistress.”
I gently opened the cloth and couldn’t believe my eyes. Inside was the most elegant dagger. It had a smooth, sharp silver blade, but the hilt was gold and encrusted with precious gems, some of a type that I had never seen before. The gem at the top was perfectly round and set in gold. At first it was milky white like an opal, but as I studied the jewel it began to change and flicker. The gem became perfectly clear and seemed lighted from within. Then I began to see pictures in my mind like a movie in my mind’s eye. Fanny and Jake were on a train. Fanny was leaning on a man that looked familiar. Who is that?
Dad! It was my dad, and he didn’t look like a zombie anymore. It was my own dad, back from the undead. And he was on a train with Fanny and Jake. But going where?
The jewel then clouded over again and became milky white. “Hindergog, I just had a vision. Did the jewel at the top here – did it make my vision happen?”
“The Sight Stone. It’s exceptionally rare indeed. Probably the last one of its kind in all the universe. Yes, it enhances the sight.”
“But these visions I have, are they telling the future or showing the past?”
“Sometimes the sight shows us things as they are. The truth of a situation. Sometimes the possible future, sometimes past.”
“But how do I know? I mean how am I to know which is which? How can I be certain of what I’m seeing?”
“Ah, that is the trick now, isn’t it? With experience, Miss Emily, you will know what you see. What did you see?”
“I saw Fanny and Jake on a train and the weird part was, they were with my dad.”
“Why strange for your friends to be with your father?”
“Well, because my dad has been sort of lost since my mom died.”
“Lost? I thought he lived with my young mistress.”
“Yes, well he lives with me but you know, it’s like he’s not quite there. He walks around and goes through the motions, but he’s not present. Do you understand?” I could see that his brow was furrowed.
“I think I understand your meaning. You did not expect to see your father in the crystal. What do you think they were doing?”
“I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you for help. They were on a train. But is that something they’re doing right now? Or something they already did? Or something they’re going to do?”
“The one who has the vision is in best place to answer that question. I did not see your vision. I do not know the meaning of it. Reach out with your feelings about it. What did you feel when you saw the vision?”
“Hope. Yes, I felt a surge of hope.”
“What think you then of the vision? Past, present or future?”
“I think it’s present. I think I was seeing what they’re doing now in our world.”
“Probably right then.”
“But it still doesn’t answer the question. Why would my dad be on a train with Jake and Fanny?”
“Only time will answer that riddle,” said Hindergog.
We walked along in silence for a while. But then I had to ask a question that had been burning in my mind.
“Hindergog, was this Saorla’s dagger?”
“Yes.”
“The one she took her own life with?” I asked as I held it gingerly.
“Yes.”
“But Hindergog, how did you get this? You were here and Saorla in my world.”
“It does not matter how it came to me, but it did. It found its way back to Hindergog,” he said as his eyes misted up.
“But Hindergog, I can’t take this. You loved Saorla very much, and this is the only thing of hers that you have. You keep it, little guy. I can’t take it.”
“You must have it Miss Emily. It belonged to Saorla, but it was forged by my hand for my first mistress and was held by every High Priestess since. You must have it now,” he said.
“This is an honor, Hindergog, truly. But I’m not a High Priestess yet. I don’t feel ready for such a valuable thing.”
“Miss Emily, you are next High Priestess. You must have the dagger. It will help you. Like the torc about your arm, the dagger has much magickal energy. You need it more than old Hindergog.”
“What magick does it have Hindergog?”
“You have experienced the Sight Stone. It is a sacred stone from my own world, the only one that still exists. It will help you with the sight, not that most of the High Priestesses of the Order of Brighid needed much help with that.”
“Well I do. Do I have to do anything special to use it?”
“Just by holding it, you will receive a boost to your own sight and inner guidance. But there is more. It is more than just a dagger. That object you hold can become any object that you need it to be.”
“What? It will change into whatever I want? Oh, is that just here in the Netherworld?”
“No, mistress, even in your world its alchemic powers are the same. It will become whatever is needed by the person who holds it.”
“That’s amazing,” I said as I looked at it closely.
“But know this Youngling. If the holder of the dagger ever seeks to use it for their own selfish ends instead of for the highest good of all, then it will cease to have any magickal powers at all. It will become a useless hunk of metal.”
“So basically use it for good, not evil. Got it.”
“It’s more than use it for good, Miss Emily. Do not use if for your own selfish purpose. That is the key.”
“Don’t be selfish. Okay, I can do that. Thank you, Hindergog. This truly is a wonderful surprise.” I bent down to hug the little guy.
Hindergog seemed a bit flustered and like he didn’t know what to do. Finally, he lightly patted my back with his furry hands.
I let him go and he smoothed his vest and walked again.
“Miss Emily is ready now to meet her master.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, I’m ready,” I agreed.
For what I wasn’t sure.
48. EMILY’S SECOND MASTER
“Miss Emily, I must leave you.”
“You can’t leave me,” I whined. “I’m stuck in this blasted mist again. I need you to help me find my way.”
“You must find your final master on your own,” he replied.
“But how, Hindergog? You gotta’ give me some kind of clue.”
“From your desire to learn all that you need to learn to fulfill your destiny. When you have that in your heart, your master will appear to you.”
“I should know by now that nothing here is easy.”
“’Tis quite easy if you concentrate. Just focus, Miss Emily. I am away.” He began to dematerialize.
“Hindergog, wait! Will I see you again?”
“You will see me again if the fates allow.” He disappeared into the fog.
What now? I stood there for a few minutes, not sure what to do next. I decided to focus on my task and began to walk again.
I soon found myself rambling along rolling hills and green meadows, with stands of large oak and ash. There were little medieval cottages with straw-thatched roofs, and I walked on a path made of stones. It was a majestic place.
As I walked I pondered my destiny. I had learned so much, but I still didn’t feel ready to face Dughall. I wasn’t sure what I needed to learn, but my time with Madame Wong had taught me that there was so much that I didn’t know and even more that I didn’t understand.
As I pondered those things, my surroundings began to change. My stone path changed to a modern sidewalk. The small, medieval cottages replaced with Midwestern homes made of brick or clad in white siding.
Up ahead a house. A house well known to me.
I began to run and before long found myself at the front of my own house. But it wasn’t the house I’d left. No, the house before me had beautiful red petunias and sweet William growing in the flowerbeds. And there was a smell wafting from the house. I sniffed the air and smelled chocolate chip pancakes and coffee and bacon.
I practically leaped to the red door. Red, just as my mother had made it. My heart felt like a train rolling down a track in my chest. My throat was dry. I don’t think I could have spit if my life depended on it. My hand reached out to the doorknob. I hesitated a minute then slowly turned the knob and opened the door.
I stepped inside and my feelings were confirmed. Muriel wasn’t there. Wherever I was – whenever I was – it was a place and time before Muriel entered the scene. The house was filled with the golden walls and the vibrant hues of my mom’s Technicolor paintings.
I somehow found the voice to yell out, “Mom?” There was no answer.
I walked from the front hallway to my left into the formal living room. It was exactly as I remembered it from when my mom was alive. Nothing changed. But it was empty.
Back out to the hallway and straight across from the formal living room into the dining room. It too was exactly the same – frozen in a time past. The large, round antique oak dining table and worn Oriental rug over the wood floor juxtaposed with my mom's large, brightly covered canvases. But that room was empty too. There wasn’t a sound in the place.
She has to be here. She just has to be. I followed the scent of the pancakes to the kitchen.
I didn’t slow my pace, but my feet felt like they were walking in quicksand. As I walked through the kitchen door, I saw her. Her back was to me, but I’d recognize that hair anywhere.
“Mom!” I ran across the room to hug her.
She turned to me. My heart nearly stopped. The woman looking at me was my mother. Same golden red mane of wavy hair cascading down her shoulders. Same emerald green eyes. She smiled the same warm, embracing smile I remembered from my childhood.