by Amy Neftzger
“Your sorrow may be what saves you,” the woman replied. “There may be hope for you yet – if you’re looking for hope, that is.”
Kelsey didn’t know how to respond, so she kept walking away with her friends and didn’t speak another word. Sometimes the best words are the ones we don’t say.
“The easiest approach to people is honesty. You’re never wrong when you’re honest because your feelings are real,” Maggie said after they had walked a distance and were out of the range of the woman’s hearing.
“What if I’m feeling annoyed because I didn’t ask for advice?” Kelsey asked.
“All I know is that wisdom and reality are somehow linked. I don’t know how, but I also know that feelings are real. They can help us to see reality by showing us who we are. At least that works for me,” Maggie explained. “I just thought it might help you if you knew what worked for me.”
While Kelsey didn’t quite understand, she accepted that perhaps Maggie did have something that she lacked and that maybe the king was right to send Maggie on this journey. Kelsey still didn’t understand exactly how or why Maggie could be of use on the quest, but Maggie did seem to be faster at understanding how to communicate with the birds, and she could charm the Sisters of Wisdom. Those skills could prove valuable over time.
“Thank you for your advice,” Kelsey finally said, and she meant it. She didn’t know how she could use it, but she was grateful for a friend who cared enough to give it.
The two girls followed Roland down the path to the wooden docks. The group of reapers behind them stayed back far enough that Kelsey was certain they wouldn’t attempt to board a ship with them, and this thought gave her some relief. Perhaps they would finally give up. Kelsey was feeling optimistic at this prospect, but then she remembered that Roland didn’t travel well by sea.
“A boat? But you’ll get seasick,” she said with concern.
“I can only hope!” Roland exclaimed with delight. “but if the sea is calm enough, I won’t.”
“You don’t do well on ships. You looked terrible when I saw you last time,” Kelsey said. “You turned green and you did nothing but drool for days.”
“It was the most fun I’ve had in years. You know how I enjoy a good illness. I haven’t had one since then, either.”
“Oh, Roland, this seems like such a bad idea,” Kelsey replied.
“There’s no other way to get there,” Roland explained. “We have to cross the sea.”
“What’s a bad idea?” Maggie asked. Kelsey had already forgotten that Maggie couldn’t hear what Roland was saying.
“Roland gets seasick,” Kelsey explained. “But he says that there’s no other way to get there.”
“Then we should do it,” Maggie replied with resolution.
“We are doing it,” Roland said, and then he added, “right now.”
Maggie could neither see nor hear him, but she was learning how to watch Kelsey’s body language carefully. When she saw Kelsey move forward, she knew it had been decided. She watched Kelsey for clues on which way to go and how fast to move. She was learning to interpret even the smallest cues.
As soon as Roland stepped onto the boat and felt the gentle rocking motions the color began to drain from his face a little. He sat down in a corner and waited for the boat to leave port. Kelsey waited anxiously with him. He might enjoy his illnesses, but Kelsey didn’t enjoy seeing her friend so sick, even if it was temporary.
When the ship left the dock, the motion of the sea became stronger, and Roland’s complexion underneath his fur turned from pink to green. Kelsey looked with concern over Roland’s condition, but at the same time she kept getting the urge to giggle. The mixture of concern and desire to laugh was confusing. Kelsey was trying to suppress the urge to giggle again when she heard Maggie bubble up in a small fit of laughter. Kelsey attempted to stare her down with a warning look, but then she found herself giggling, as well.
“How’s your friend doing?” Maggie asked with a chuckle.
“Sick,” Kelsey said as she giggled back. She hated herself for laughing, but she couldn’t help it. Everything appeared funny to her.
“This is weird,” Maggie said. Then she stifled another giggle. “I don’t even know what’s so funny.”
They both glanced around at the other passengers as Roland vomited over the edge of the boat. Each time Kelsey made eye contact with someone, they both giggled. It was as if they all shared some inside joke, and it made them all feel like they were part of the same club.
The boat moved up and down with a large wave, giving everyone the momentary feeling that the ship had fallen out from underneath them. The passengers laughed even more. It was as if they had all been friends for years and were remembering an old joke or a funny memory together. The laughter then went from a comforting feeling to one of goofiness and euphoria. The sea sprayed their faces with cool mist and their laughter increased.
“My stomach hurts!” Maggie cried as she continued to laugh harder.
“This isn’t fun anymore,” Kelsey replied as she continued to laugh heartily, “but I can’t seem to stop.”
“I’m not sure if I can breathe,” Maggie said as she gasped in between bursts of laughter.
“This is intolerable!” Kelsey looked over at Roland, but he was still vomiting into the sea. There was no way to ask him about the situation. “What in the kingdom is happening here?”
“It’s the Sea of Laughter!” another male passenger shouted over to them. Everyone on board was laughing loudly, and Kelsey could barely hear.
“We’re on a sea of laughter?”
“The Sea of Laughter,” the gentleman shouted back. He wiped the tears from his eyes as he continued to chuckle.
“This is crazy!” Maggie exclaimed. “We’re riding on waves of laughter!”
“There’s no other way to get there safely, and sometimes this way isn’t too safe,” the man replied.
“Has anyone died from laughing?” Kelsey asked. The thought that laughter could be a weapon made her laugh even more. It hurt her ribs terribly, and although she cringed with pain, she continued to laugh. She just couldn’t stop.
“Sure,” the man said. “I’ve seen it several times. However, once someone dies, it usually helps the rest of us to make it through safely. Most of the time, it’s just one death. Sort of like a sacrifice,” he broke into a loud peal of laughter as he spoke the end of the sentence.
Very soon the laughter turned to hysteria, and the people were laughing in terror rather than because anything was funny. It was painful to laugh, and it was frightening, but no one could stop. Several of the passengers got up and began moving wildly about, as if looking for a way out of the situation. Everyone seemed to be in a panic. Kelsey was afraid these people might jump into the sea and drown themselves.
At that point, Roland staggered forward. He paused several times as he placed his paw over his mouth. No one appeared to see him, but everyone could hear. Everyone except Maggie, that is, and what Maggie couldn’t hear, she could feel.
At first Roland burst out with a mild chuckle. Then he laughed quietly. It didn’t take much, but the effect was immediate. Everyone else stopped laughing all at once, because when Death laughs, no one else does. The rest of the boat was silent as Roland let loose.
Roland’s laughter had more than a calming effect: it was sobering and moved people to tears. Soon passengers were weeping and no one knew why they were feeling sad and afraid. The conversations stopped. Nearly a third of the passengers immediately became seasick, but no one died. Still, the journey became somber and took on a feeling of mourning.
Death had saved them, but nothing was funny anymore. It was a very sobering feeling and the first time Kelsey felt sad around Roland. They passed the rest of the journey over the sea without speaking as Roland continued to vomit noisily over the edge of the boat until they reached the opposite shore. And while everyone felt safe from the sea, no one really felt calm.
Chapter
Eight
Reality In Bites
Nicholas had spent a week learning to see into another room with his mind, find an object, and then carry it for a short distance without actually touching it. It was a bizarre sensation because Nicholas felt as if he were in the other place while he was still sitting with Moss. It was sort of like the way a book transports a reader to another place, but Nicholas was having an effect on the dream world in which he saw himself. It was work, but it was also fun.
The lessons had started with very small objects, like buttons, and then worked up to bigger things. He was now carrying small pillows, but nothing over two pounds in weight. The heavier the object, the more it strained him mentally, so he did these practice sessions for short periods several times a day with a good rest in between. The lessons had gotten progressively more difficult as the objects had gotten larger and heavier and the distance greater. He was also learning to carry things that would normally hurt him, like the fire lizard. At the end of the week, Nicholas could move pieces of dried fruit and entire melons across the castle kitchen and drop the bits of food into Newton’s mouth for the gargoyle’s afternoon snack. Newton was disappointed when Moss decided to move onto the next lesson.
“He could use some practice carrying bacon or turkey legs — or bacon wrapped turkey legs. I don’t think he’s carried meat of any kind,” Newton argued with Moss.
“He doesn’t need to carry meat. If he can carry fruit or pillows, he can certainly carry meat,” Moss replied.
“Meat is dense, so it’s more of challenge.”
“You’re dense. You’re made of stone.”
“But I’m not delicious. We also don’t know if he can carry something like a cheeseburger without eating it. He needs to know how to resist temptation. It’s a useful skill.”
“Fruit is delicious enough,” Moss replied dismissively.
“Not as delicious as meat,” Newton mumbled.
“Why are gargoyles such carnivores?” Moss asked no one in particular. Newton answered him, anyway.
“Because we’re created to protect from evil. Evil is not light, airy or fruity. So, in a manner of speaking, you could say that being carnivorous is in our genetic makeup. Therefore, when you think about it, having Nicholas transport some meat into my mouth would be good practice for both of us, since I need to stay in shape to fight evil.”
“We have too many lessons to spend another week on this one,” Moss replied. “Besides, it takes a lot more effort to master reality than being present.”
“Is that possible with the sorcerer’s spell?” Nicholas asked.
“Anything is a possibility, and never let anyone tell you otherwise. Our job is to make the possibility a reality,” and as Moss said that, Nicholas noticed the tags hanging on the outside of Moss' garments. The labels said, “Made in Wonderland” in a swirling script.
“Sir,” Nicholas said as he looked over the bulky seams running down the outside of Moss' sleeves. “I think you may be wearing your clothes inside out.”
“Thank you, but I’m not,” Moss replied. Nicholas began to wonder if this was part of the lesson on reality and if Moss was creating the illusion that his clothes were inside out when Moss added, “If the tags belonged on the inside they would make them so that they don’t chafe.” Nicholas was about to respond when Newton whispered to him.
“Just be glad that he’s wearing clothes,” the gargoyle said. Nicholas nodded and decided to drop the subject. He turned back to Moss.
“How am I going to master reality?” Nicholas asked. “Everything here seems real.”
“This is the castle. It’s grounded,” Moss explained. “But under the sorcerer’s spell, there are stories that are real and there are things we experience and feel that aren’t real. Words can be real or unreal, and so can physical and emotional things. So how do you tell the difference?”
Nicholas could tell that this was going to be a difficult lesson, and he wasn’t sure Moss was the best one to be teaching it. Moss couldn’t even dress himself.
“Do you know how to tell the difference?” Nicholas asked cautiously.
“I asked you first,” Moss said in a biting tone.
“Isn’t it your job to tell me? You’re the teacher.”
“If I tell you everything, then you’ll never learn.”
Nicholas paused. He felt like he was arguing with a child. He knew Moss was a little odd, but during the past week, he had been a good teacher. Now Nicholas felt that Moss was refusing to teach.
“I don’t know how to tell the difference,” Nicholas admitted, hoping this tactic would spur Moss to teach him.
“Exactly!” Moss nodded with approval. “And that’s the first step to learning: admitting what you don’t know.”
Nicholas hesitated before speaking. He thought Moss’ manner was making this lesson even more difficult. He stood silent and looked to Newton for guidance. Since the gargoyle was also sitting still and waiting, Nicholas decided to imitate him and sat quietly. After about 10 minutes, which seemed longer, Moss finally continued.
“You know that the number of moments is endless.”
“Yes,” Nicholas agreed.
“And the number of perceived realities is also endless.”
Nicholas thought for a moment. “Yes,” he replied as he scratched his ankle, waiting for Moss to continue.
“And if you can be present in multiple potential realities at one time, then you could determine which ones contradict one another and eliminate them, thus leaving you with the answer as to which one is the true reality.”
“This sounds very difficult.”
“If it were easy, anyone could do it,” Moss shrugged.
“Can you do it?” Nicholas asked.
“I am more grounded in reality than anyone around here,” Moss said with authority. Nicholas first looked at Newton’s stoic expression and then at Moss. He wished Megan were here for the lesson, but she was meeting with the king on other business. Moss was certainly smart, but Nicholas wasn’t sure about his connection to reality. However, with the sorcerer’s spell, there was no way to know what was real and what wasn’t. Maybe Moss did know something and it just appeared odd to those still under the spell.
“Where do we start?” Nicholas asked.
“We begin by learning to scry,” Moss replied. He stood up and walked over to a long counter with various bottles and tubes piled haphazardly around a sink. He selected a shallow stone basin, filled it with water from the sink, and then carefully carried it back to the table where Nicholas and Newton were sitting. Nicholas stared through the water at the bottom of the greenish blue stone bowl. The stone was marbled with swirls of deeper green and black, and these reflected into the water. Moss pushed up the purple sleeves on his robe and then rotated the bowl in three half turns. “Do you see anything in the water?” Moss asked. “Anything at all?”
“I see the bottom of the bowl,” Nicholas replied.
“Excellent! That’s a fine start!” Moss exclaimed. Nicholas sat back and stared at the delighted expression on Moss' face for a minute, wondering if Moss was joking with him, but then he caught a glimpse of Newton discretely shaking his head and Nicholas took the hint.
“Are there things I should see in the bottom of the bowl?” Nicholas inquired.
“No, but the fact that you can see anything at all is good. Now, grasp the sides of the bowl and turn it, just as I did a few moments ago.”
Nicholas copied Moss' actions and rotated the bowl three half turns. He looked up at Moss before continuing.
“Is it always three turns?” Nicholas asked.
“So observant!” Moss exclaimed with delight. “Three turns is what works for me, but different people have different numbers. I like three because that’s the number of atoms in a molecule of water.” He waited for Nicholas to ask him a question, but when Nicholas remained silent, he continued. “Sometimes sorcery is more effective when you include aspects of the chemical structure
of your tools, but not everyone is quite so scientific.”
“Do I need to learn chemistry?” Nicholas asked. He hadn’t been back to the Academy of Miracles for the start of the school year, and he was dreading the thought of a science class.
“Of course not. You only need knowledge if you want to be really good.”
“But there are different types of knowledge. For example, I’m good with plants and biology. Couldn’t I just study that?” Nicholas asked hopefully.
“When you limit your knowledge, you limit your options.”
“True,” Newton jumped in. “Gargoyles are avid readers. We love books. After all, there’s not much to do when you’re sitting on top of a building for centuries at a time.”
“That’s lovely, Newton,” Moss said dismissively and then turned back to Nicholas. “If you’re going to be in different types of situations in your life, you will need different types of knowledge to navigate them successfully. But we can discuss that another time. Look back into the water again and turn the bowl the number of times that seems right to you.”
Nicholas stared down at the bowl and then firmly placed his hands on the edges. He lowered his face to where it was almost touching the surface and he could smell the minerals in the water. It smelled slightly of iron and other things that Nicholas recognized but couldn’t identify by name. The fragrance was musty and reminded him of a cellar.
As he held his face slightly above the water’s surface, he had the sudden urge to touch the water, so he slowly dipped the very tip of his nose just below the surface. The water was icy, and Nicholas quickly pulled his head up. He alertly focused on the surface. As he did, he watched five rings in the water where his nose had touched it drift from the center of the bowl outward to the edge. The number sounded right to him, and so Nicholas very firmly made five half turns of the basin, staring into the surface expectantly. At the end of the fifth turn he thought he saw a tiny cloud in the water, as if a drop of milk had fallen into it and then dissipated as it became diluted.