They’d tried everything: therapy, drugs, prayer. (Just like me, Jack Wisdom thought.) And then they found Dr. Reina. For a moment neither of them could speak, and then it was all “miracle,” and “astonishing turnaround,” and “blessing.” The video ended with the man nodding vigorously as his wife said, “Thank you, Doctor Reina. Thank you, thank you.” Jack watched it three times, then clicked on “Contact us” and sent Frederick Reina an email.
Frederick Reina arrived just five days later. He was a tall man, handsome, with greying hair around a young face, so it was hard to tell his age. He wore a dark gray suit with a blue striped tie, “banker’s clothes” they would have said at Jack’s office. He had a large gold ring on his left hand, stamped with some kind of insignia. His fingers were very long, Jack noticed when they shook hands. For just a moment, Jack had the strangest reaction, a feeling that he knew this man from somewhere, knew him and wanted to slam the door on him. All that vanished when Dr. Reina smiled at him. The man was so confident yet caring. And he’d come specially just to help Simon. What kind of person would Jack be if he didn’t trust him? What kind of father if he didn’t take a chance? It wasn’t like he had any other options.
Jack had hoped Howard Porter could sit in on the consultation, but that morning an emergency had summoned Howard to the hospital. Maybe it was for the best. Simon might have refused to cooperate if too many grown-ups, too many doctors, ganged up on him.
When Simon first came downstairs at his father’s summons, he shrank away and Jack feared he would run back to his room. Instead, Simon only squinted, as if he had trouble seeing Dr. Reina clearly, but when the doctor smiled and held out his hand, Simon appeared to relax and walked right up to him.
Jack was about to sit down next to his son when Dr. Reina said it was best if he talked to Simon alone. “I’ll be right upstairs,” Jack said to Simon, who looked very young and frightened. The thought, Something is wrong, came into Jack’s head, but then Dr. Reina nodded to him, and trust dissolved Jack’s fears. “Just tell him whatever he needs to know,” he said. Simon nodded. Help him, Jack thought as he left the room. Please help him.
Upstairs in his bedroom, Jack saw a pair of squirrels on a branch outside his window. Dots of light bounced around them as they stared at him. He opened the window and threw an old ballpoint pen at them, and they ran down the trunk.
The session lasted nearly two hours. Jack sat on his bed the whole time, hands together between his knees. He thought of phoning Howard, just for support, but he wanted to be ready for anything Dr. Reina—and Simon, of course—might need from him.
When Dr. Reina called him, it was all he could do not to leap downstairs three steps at a time. Simon was still sitting on the couch, his head bowed. Jack thought, What have I done? But when he looked at Dr. Reina, the man was smiling. Could it be? Could Jack finally have found someone who could help his son?
When he let the doctor wave him into the kitchen, the news sounded anything but good. “The situation is serious,” Dr. Reina said. Simon, he claimed, was suffering from a deep inner conflict that was causing his psyche literally to attack itself in a kind of autoimmune response.
“What conflict?” Jack said.
“We will not know this until I begin treatment. Of course, with your permission.”
Jack was having trouble breathing. “You think you can help him?”
“Oh yes. I can work with Simon to relieve his inner pain. I assure you, he will become once again the strong and healthy boy you have missed.”
“Oh God,” Jack said, “that’s incredible. That would be so wonderful.”
Dr. Reina held up a finger. “I must warn you, Simon is in a critical condition right now. He must come to my Institute immediately.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
“I return in three days. I will come for Simon then. You must have him ready.”
Jack thought of people he’d have to call to get away at such short notice. “No problem,” he said. “We’ll be all set to go whenever you tell us.”
“No, no,” Dr. Reina said, “Simon must go with me alone.”
Jack leaned back. “No. No, I can’t. He’s never been separated from me. Never.”
“Exactly.” Dr. Reina nodded, as if Jack had given a correct answer. “You are deeply entwined in his psychic world. He needs to break from that world so he can heal himself. Do not worry—he will not become distant or hateful. On the contrary, I assure you he will return with his love for his father liberated.”
“Maybe I could get a hotel room somewhere near your Institute.”
“No. Simon must make a full break from his current psychic universe, and at the same time know firmly that his home awaits his healthy return. You are the essence of that home.”
“Wow,” Jack said. He sat down on one of the oak table chairs. Don’t do it, he thought, and, I can’t just send him away. Suddenly he imagined he could hear Rebecca, very distant, very faint, as if on a bad cell connection. “Jack! Remember!” Remember what? he wanted to shout. Instead, he looked at Dr. Reina. The man appeared so calm, so confident. And what had Rebecca ever done but hurt Simon? What had Jack ever done but hurt him? This Reina was the first person to offer any hope. He said, “All right. I’ll have him ready Monday morning.”
Dr. Reina stayed a few minutes more to discuss payment. It was steep, of course. After all, this was residential treatment they were talking about. But it wasn’t as bad as Jack might have feared, and Reina said there would be no charge until Jack agreed there had been clear improvement. And if Jack wished, he could pay in installments for as long as two years. Jack thought how he would pay his whole life if this man could help his son.
After Dr. Reina left, Jack called Howard Porter. “That’s wonderful,” Howard said. “I knew he could do something. I just knew it.”
“But Howard, we don’t really know anything about him.”
There was a pause. Howard sounded confused when he said, “Yes, I guess that’s true.” Then he seemed to brighten as he said, “I just have a hunch. This could be a real breakthrough.”
Jack promised to let him know as soon as there was news. He hung up and took a deep breath. Time to tell Simon.
Jack found his son in his room, sitting on the edge of the bed, bent over with a book about a lost land of pirates. Jack sat down next to him. “Simon,” he said, “what did you think of Doctor Reina?” Simon shrugged. “He wants to help you.” No answer. “He says he can help you.”
Simon whispered, “No one can help me.”
“That’s not true. You’re going to get better. I promise. And I think Doctor Reina’s the one to do it.” He paused. “Monday,” he said finally. “He’s going to pick you up and you’re going to travel with him to his Institute.”
At last, Simon looked up. “No, Daddy,” he said, “please. Please don’t make me.” He sounded six years old.
Jack hugged him. “He’s going to help you.”
Simon struggled free. “No! You can’t make me.”
“I can and I will. This is ridiculous. He says he can help you.”
“Please.” Simon clasped his hands, as if in prayer.
Jack stood up. “I’m in charge. It’s my responsibility to make sure you get better, and that’s what I’m doing. After dinner, we’ll start packing.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
JOACHIM/FLORIAN/ANOTHER
In the Times Before Time, Heaven belonged to the Angels and the Deep Darkness to the Rebels, who had tried and failed to seize power. In between lay the Earth, the World of Living and Dying, ruled by the Seven Guardians, who treated all mortals, male and female alike, as amusements, to help or hurt whenever it suited them. Each of the Guardians possessed a great Tree—or perhaps the Trees themselves were the original beings, and the Guardians simply branches that had gained the power to separate and move around and instigate events. The Trees all grew together in the Garden of Origins, at the center of the world. They were:
The Tre
e of Constancy, known also as the Tree of Gold
The Tree of Variance, known also as the Tree of Silver
The Tree of Brilliance
The Tree of Desire
The Tree of Incitement
The Tree of Gifts
The Tree of Limits
Of all these, the most important were Constancy and Variance, for they ruled the Sun and Moon, yet even their Guardians did as they wished, and human beings could count on nothing.
Joachim the Brilliant, also known as Joachim the Blessed (though others say the Blind, for the great mistake he made at the height of his success), sought to change the world. He knew he could not battle the Guardians, so he took a different road. He entered the Secret Woods and allied himself with an Outcast, a High Prince of the Kallistochoi. This became known as the Union of Above and Below. There has only ever been one such union. To attempt to repeat it is strictly forbidden. Those who have tried became known as the Uabi Heresy, and if any Uabi has succeeded, he or she has never revealed it. As to why a Kallistocha Prince would join with a human, no one really knows. Some say he took pity on wretched humanity. Others claim he saw in Joachim something more than human, as if a free Kallistocha secretly walked the Earth disguised as a man. Still others suggest the Prince wished to spite the Heavenly Victors who had stolen his body and imprisoned his head on a black pole, for he knew the Victors had given the Earth to the Guardians.
Out of this joining came the Tarot of Eternity.
Joachim had two disciples, Florian the Wise, and . . . Another. This other became the Hidden One, who is said to have buried his name under a Red Rock at the furthest reach of the world. Joachim allowed each of his disciples to create a Copy of the Tarot of Eternity, and together the three made the Great Journey. They pierced the curtain that hid the Creator from Her Creation. Florian and even the Other stood with bowed heads, afraid to look, but Joachim saw and spoke with Her, face to face. The Angels opposed him and said the Creator should cast him down with the Rebels. But Joachim insisted that he did not seek power for himself or any other human. Instead, he asked the Creator to change the world, not for his sake, or any other human, but for Herself, for only a world of laws and cycles could truly praise its Creator.
The Creator granted Joachim’s plea. The world shifted and the Guardians diminished. Where once they had stood as towering beings impossible to look at, they became almost like children. The five Lesser Guardians left the Earth to move among the distant stars. We can still see them, sometimes visible, sometimes obscured, as the planets—Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. Some say that without their Guardians, the five Trees withered and died; others that the rulers uprooted the Trees and planted them in the sky. The only ones left were Constancy and Variance, grown small now along with the Guardians who belonged to them. Many believe that the Guardians of Gold and Silver had secretly supported the humans and even hidden themselves behind the seat of the Creator to plead for Joachim against the Angels. Certainly the Sun and Moon have remained strong, while the Five have become small and faint.
When the Three Masters returned, Joachim spent his time in contemplation, or perhaps in communion with the Splendor, the great beings known as the Hidden Mystery, for only their tracks show, like flashes of light. Joachim’s withdrawal later became known as the Great Mistake, for had he stayed in the world, he might have stopped the Other before it was too late.
Florian used her Copy of the Tarot of Eternity to discover the Colors Beyond Light, the Music Beyond Sound. She found the Five Basic Spells and used them, in turn, to create the original Academy of Wizards. Before the Great Corruption, she allowed one of her disciples to create a Copy of a Copy. Many years later, this disciple, or a descendant, created a Copy of a Copy of a Copy. This was given away, or stolen, and it too vanished.
Florian found the Five, but the Other found the One: the Spell of Extension, buried deep in the world’s soul. Some say the Guardian of Incitement revealed it to him during the Ascent, that the Guardian knew he could not stop them but came out to battle just so he could plant the discovery in the Other’s mind. There is no way to know, for the Other became secretive, silent, almost as withdrawn as Joachim himself. Might Florian have stopped him if she’d realized what he was doing? Nobody knows. If she’d found out—and roused Joachim—maybe the two of them could have saved him.
The other made multiple copies of his Copy, for in fact it was the Tarot of Eternity itself that made the Spell of Extension possible. Not all of it, though possibly every piece plays a part, but one picture, one “card,” in particular. This card was called the Dancer, or the Flying Boy. The spell corrupts this picture, and thus all the others.
Only when it was too late did Joachim realize what had happened. Because of the Spell of Extension, he removed the original Tarot of Eternity from the world, and even though Florian’s Copy remained pure, she too took her Copy to the Place Beyond Place. The Copy of a Copy, however, remained, so that some record would survive beyond the distortions of the Spell, for those copies made to enact the Spell of Extension serve only one purpose—to drain the lives of children, destroy every part of them, so that the Corrupter might live forever. Because of this, and because his true name remains hidden, he became known as the Child Eater.
Some say the Child Eater will indeed live forever, unstoppable, devouring child after child, for after all, the Spell of Extension is a poison at the heart of the world. But some say that a single child will destroy him. The Child of Eternity.
Chapter Twenty-Six
MATYAS
For a long time, Matyas stood in the courtyard, holding his few possessions tightly in his arms. He realized he was breathing heavily but couldn’t seem to stop. People walked past him, apprentices mostly, but also one or two Masters; some stared, but most hurried by. Finally, Matyas went to the library where he found Horekh in the first-floor arcade, a portfolio of ragged parchments spread out before him. He looked up expectantly, but when Matyas just stood on the other side of the table full of texts, he said, “Matyas? Do you need something?”
“I need a place,” Matyas said, and then, as if he was not sure he’d said it out loud, “I need a place. A room, rooms. Where I can sleep. And study.”
Horekh nodded. “Of course,” he said. Carefully he gathered up the parchment sheets and put them back inside their gray leather case. Matyas recognized it as a collection of accounts of journeys “in the body” supposedly made by Joachim to the realms of the planetary spheres, but most likely forgeries written some five hundred years after Joachim’s death. “Come with me,” Horekh said.
Halfway across the courtyard, Matyas stopped when he realized they were headed toward the grand palace of the Masters’ Residency. When Horekh appeared not to notice and kept on going, Matyas moved to keep up with him. An apprentice was washing the thirty-two marble steps leading up to the door. He shrank away as Horekh and Matyas passed him. At the top, Matyas looked back at the young man, who kept his eyes down.
Inside the grand hallway, they moved quickly over the black and white tiled floor, past the gold and silver statues of the Armies of the Sun and Moon that some said were older than the Earth, but which Matyas knew were cast at the founding of the Academy, though possibly by rohati, builder-spirits summoned by Florian that were indeed far older than the world. Finally, they came to a small room where all the furniture was made of stone—slate, onyx, granite. A small, heavyset man stood with his back to them at a wide basalt table where he stared at a group of jade figurines of different shapes set in a grid of interlocking hexagons.
“Malchior,” Horekh said quietly, and the man turned around with a smile and then a slightly puzzled look when he saw Matyas. Malchior had thick black hair that made him look younger than his sixty-some years, while his low, thick body made him look like one of the wrestlers Matyas had seen compete at street markets. His robe was stiff and green and brown, so that it looked like it was formed of wood and dirt and vines. He’d come from overseas, Matyas knew
, and still spoke with a thick accent, though Matyas suspected he did so deliberately, for the tones and sibilances only appeared to get harsher each time Matyas had overheard him in the library.
Malchior was the Steward, the Master who kept the Academy strong and rooted to the Earth. He rarely left the Residency except to go to the library. The first time Matyas saw him, Malchior had come to the library and ordered everyone to leave. To Matyas’ surprise they obeyed, and it was only later that Matyas learned the Steward had come to perform the Spell of Anchoring in the tunnels underneath the deepest cellar. Done among the skulls and hands and preserved hearts of dead Masters, Anchoring was said to preserve the Academy’s connection to the physical world. Without it, the library, the Residency, maybe even Veil’s tower, might simply dissolve into light and then disappear, as if their very presence in the world was always an illusion. Matyas knew that some of the Masters considered this possibility a superstition, used to keep the apprentices in awe of their surroundings. And yet, when Malchior said, “Leave,” everyone left.
Horekh said, “Matyas needs rooms, Steward. I suspect he will not care so much about elaborate furniture but he will require shelves for books.” He smiled slightly. “Many books.”
Malchior looked confused for a minute, then said, “Yes, of course.” He walked to the door and said, “Please, Master. Follow me.” It took Matyas a moment to realize Malchior was talking to him and not Horekh, then he hurried to catch up.
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