White

by Ted Dekker

“Ninety percent?”

  “That would be most, yes.”

  “Ms. Sumner?”

  “I would concur,” she said over the speakerphone.

  The president walked to the end of the room, hands grasped behind his back. He looked up at a television that showed a riot in progress in Jakarta, triggered by the news that the supposedly contained outbreak in Java hadn’t really been contained at all.

  “We are holding the world together by a string,” President Blair said. “Our ships are scheduled to hand over most of our nuclear arsenal in three days’ time. Our only hope of getting the antivirus from the New Allegiance is to disarm ourselves and open ourselves to nuclear holocaust. Even then, I don’t believe that France intends to deal with us, or the Israelis for that matter, straight. They will give what they have to the Russians, the Chinese, but not to us.”

  He faced them. “We cannot afford to deal with Fortier. Our only real hope rests in you.”

  His position seemed extreme to Kara, but she no longer trusted her own judgment of extremity. For all she knew, their only hope didn’t rest in Monique or Theresa or anyone from the scientific community, but in Thomas. There had to be a reason that all of this was happening.

  “Join me when Thomas arrives,” the president said. “You may leave.”

  They left without a word. Ron Kreet was telling the president that he had a call with the Russian premier in two minutes.

  “Doesn’t sound promising,” Kara said to Monique as they walked the hall.

  “It never was. I can’t imagine this being solved from this end.”

  This end? “Thomas?”

  Monique nodded. “I’m not saying it makes sense to me, but yes. You were there, Kara. It’s real, isn’t it? I mean, it felt so real when I dreamed of it.”

  “As real as this. It’s like Thomas is a window into another dimension. He lives in both, and our eyes are opened through his blood.”

  “But I felt more like Rachelle when I was there. Monique to me was only a dream.”

  “This can’t be a dream,” Kara said, looking around. “Can it?”

  She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to—they both knew that they weren’t going to figure it out now.

  “Do you think of him?” Kara asked.

  “All the time,” Monique said.

  Kara glanced at her watch. “He’s probably still sleeping. That means he’s with the Horde right now. If he’s not dreaming with the Horde, there’s no telling how many days will pass before he wakes up.”

  “In that reality.”

  “Yes.”

  “How would he not dream?”

  “The Horde may know about the rhambutan fruit.”

  Monique blinked. “Then we should wake him now! What if the Horde executes him?”

  “It doesn’t matter if we wake him. The time that passes there is dependent on his dreaming there, not his waking here. Trust me, it took me two weeks to wrap my mind around that one. A week could pass with the Horde in the next few minutes of his dreaming on the plane.”

  They turned into a small cafeteria.

  “He’ll be here soon enough,” Kara said. “Let’s hope he has some answers.”

  15

  Woref stood before Qurong in the council chamber, listening to the old man fume about the missing Books of Histories. The librarian, Christoph, had reported them missing this morning. The scribes had turned the library inside out looking for them, but not a sign.

  “How could a thousand volumes just vanish into thin air?” Qurong raged. “I want them found. I don’t care if you have to search every house in the city.”

  “I will, your highness. But I have other matters now.”

  “What other matters? Your matters are more pressing than mine?”

  The old fool couldn’t hold a thought for more than a few minutes. His obsession with these Books was interfering with far more important matters; surely he knew that.

  An image of Teeleh flashed through Woref ’s mind and he clenched his jaw. He’d decided to deny the beast. He would possess Chelise, yes. And he would love her as he knew how to love. She would be his, and if she resisted his advance, he would use whatever form of persuasion seemed fitting at the time. But Teeleh spoke of love as if it were a crushing force. The thought made him ill.

  “I have a wedding tomorrow.”

  “And your wedding takes precedence over my books? You expect me to attend the wedding of my own daughter in this state?”

  “No sir. Never.” The realization that Qurong might put off the wedding over such a trivial matter sent a shaft of anger through Woref ’s heart.

  Qurong paced and grunted. “This takes priority. Nothing happens until we find the Books.”

  “Sir, may I suggest that your wife might not look kindly on the post-ponement—”

  “My wife will do as I say. It’s you, Woref. Your inflamed passion compromises your own loyalty to your king. You’ve been hounding my daughter for years now, and when I finally give her to you, you immediately question my authority! I should call the whole thing off.”

  Woref suppressed his fury. I will take your daughter. And then I will take your kingdom.

  Teeleh’s words whispered in his memory. I will make her mine.

  “You have my undying loyalty, my king. I will suspend our search for the remaining albinos and personally see to your Books.”

  Instead of expressing the appropriate apprehension at Woref ’s suggestion that they pause their campaign, Qurong agreed.

  “Good. Turn every stone. Dismissed.” He picked up his goblet and walked away, leaving Woref in a mild state of shock.

  Qurong stopped by the door as if something had suddenly occurred to him. “You wish to marry my daughter? Then start with her. No one knows the library like she does.” He turned around and eyed Woref carefully. “We’ll see if you have the skills required to tame a wench. She’s in her bedroom.”

  Woref trembled with rage. How could a father speak in such a way about the woman who would be his? Such a precious, unspoiled bride, at this very moment resting in her bedroom while her own father slandered her.

  Teeleh, yes. But her father!

  Woref put his hand on the table to calm himself. The day he ran a dagger through Qurong’s belly would come sooner than anyone could possibly guess.

  You are angry because Qurong is Teeleh’s servant, and now you know that you are as well.

  He ground his molars and grunted. Yes, it was true, and he despised himself for it.

  Woref stepped across the room, entered the atrium, and gazed at the stairs that rose from floor to floor, up to the fifth where Chelise’s room waited in silence. He glanced around, saw that he was alone, and hurried toward the stairs.

  Desire swelled in his belly. He wouldn’t touch Chelise, naturally. In that way he wasn’t like Qurong at all. And he would never harm her. Not even Qurong beat his wife. It wasn’t becoming of royalty, he had once said. Either way, Woref could never hurt his tender bride.

  Then again . . .

  No. He only wanted to see her. To gaze upon her face, knowing that tomorrow she would be his. He’d never been on the fifth floor, much less her bedroom. But now Qurong had given him permission. The Books. He couldn’t forget to ask about the Books.

  He climbed quickly, afraid that at any moment the wife would come out and demand that he leave. It would be like Patricia. She too would have to be silenced one day. Perhaps he’d take her as his second wife. There was a woman he’d enjoy beating.

  But not the daughter. Never Chelise.

  He stood before her door and knocked gently.

  “Come.”

  He pushed the door open. She sat on her bed with her maidservant. Their eyes flared with surprise.

  “Excuse me.” He bowed his head. “I’m afraid that Qurong insisted I speak to you immediately.”

  “Then you would send a servant up to fetch me,” Chelise said.

  “He insisted I come. It’s a matter of grave import
ance.” He looked at the servant. “Leave us.”

  The woman looked at Chelise and then left when she didn’t object.

  Woref closed the door and stared at his bride, who now stood by her bed. Her skin was white and beautiful. Not as white as when she had the morst on, but he preferred it this way. The scent of untreated skin stirred him in a way that only a true warrior would understand. Her eyes were white, like twin moons. Her mouth was round and her body slender in the long flowing robe.

  He’d never seen such a beautiful creature as she.

  “What is it?” she demanded.

  He approached her, careful not to look too eager. “Qurong is concerned about some Books that have gone missing from the library,” he said. “He thought that you might be able to help us find them.”

  “Which books?”

  “The blank Books of Histories.”

  “They’re gone?”

  “All of them.”

  “How’s that possible? There are so many!”

  Woref stepped closer. He could smell her breath now, the musky scent of love.

  “Please don’t come any closer,” she said.

  He stopped, surprised by her demand. “I meant no disrespect.”

  “I took none. But we aren’t yet married.”

  “You’re mine by betrothal. We will be married.”

  “Tomorrow.” The tone of her voice irritated him. It was as if she was insisting on tomorrow instead of today. As if she might be looking forward to enjoying one last day separated from him. She didn’t crave him as he craved her?

  He shifted on his feet. “Yes, of course.”

  “What do I have to do with this?” she demanded.

  His irritation grew. He spoke quickly to cover his embarrassment. “Your father seems to think that you may know something about the Books. You’ve spent more time in the library than even he.”

  “I have no clue what could have happened to the Books. I don’t see why he sent you to interrogate me about his business. Men are not permitted on this floor. Mother wouldn’t approve.”

  “I don’t think you understand the significance of this to the supreme leader. And I don’t see what your mother’s opinion of my coming here has to do with your taking exception. You have been given to me, not to her.”

  “Tell my father that I know nothing about the Books, and I’ll tell my mother that you disapprove of her rules.”

  “Her rules will mean nothing tomorrow. We’ll live by my rules. Our rules.”

  She smiled. “You may have won my hand, Woref. I have no argument. But you’ll have to win my heart as well. You could start by learning that I am my mother’s daughter. You may leave now.”

  Woref wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. Was she taunting him? Tempting him? Begging to be subdued?

  “The situation is more serious than you may realize.” He would test her by stepping closer to her. “Qurong will postpone our wedding until the Books are found.”

  She smiled again. This time it was a tempting smile, he was sure of it. His mind felt dizzy with desire. He took another step, close enough to touch her.

  “Postponing our wedding might be wise. It would give you time to learn respect for a woman’s desires.”

  Black flooded Woref ’s vision. How dare she conspire with Qurong to withhold what was his! She stood mocking him with this smile, perfectly at ease with denying him.

  He swung his hand without thinking. It slammed into her cheek with a loud smack. She gasped and flew backward onto the bed.

  “Never!” he roared.

  The shock of being hit was greater than the pain. Chelise knew that she’d been toying with his emotions, but no more so than she’d done a hundred times before with other men. She’d actually found Woref ’s presence in her room exhilarating. Naturally it would never do to play into his hands—what kind of signal would that send? He would think of her as nothing more than a doll that he could throw around at his whim until he tired of her completely. Mother had told her the same thing just last night.

  Chelise spun to him, aghast. Woref was trembling from head to foot.

  “Never!” he roared.

  She was too stunned to think straight. He had hit her!

  Realization of what he had just done suddenly dawned on Woref ’s face. He glanced back at the door, and when he faced her again, his eyes were lit by fear.

  “What have I done?” He reached out for her. “My precious—”

  “Get away from me!” she screamed, slapping his hand aside. She scrambled across the bed and stood on the opposite side. “Don’t come near me!”

  He walked quickly around the bed, panicked. “No, no, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Back!”

  He dropped to one knee. “I beg you, forgive me!”

  “Stop begging! Get on your feet!”

  He rose.

  “How dare you strike me! You expect me to marry a bull? I was toying with you!”

  His awful mistake was finally and terribly setting in. He gripped his head in both hands and paced at the bottom of the bed. Her sudden power over him wasn’t lost on her. Her jaw ached. She could never marry this man until they set some things straight between them, but on balance he had just given her his greatest gift. He’d bared his weakness.

  “How can I marry a man like you?” she demanded.

  “Anything,” he said, spinning back. “I swear I will give you anything.”

  “You’ll give me anything today, and then take my life in a fit of rage tomorrow? Do I look like a fool?”

  “No, my dear. I swear, never again. My honor as this land’s greatest general is in your hands.”

  “One word to my mother and you would lose it all.”

  “And spend eternity suffering for one moment’s fear of losing you. I can’t bear the thought of delaying our wedding, even a single day.”

  She turned her back on him and stared out the window, surprised by the satisfaction she felt at seeing him grovel. Stripped of his rank, he was a mere man, driven by passion and fear. Perhaps wickeder than most. But still unraveled by his desire for one woman.

  She would use this to her advantage. The fact was, she had more on her mind today than her wedding tomorrow. Thoughts of the Books of Histories had filled her dreams and awakened her early. Her desire to understand the mysteries hidden in their pages was greater than any desire she’d known.

  Chelise faced Woref, who had recovered from his begging and was regarding her with something that looked more like contempt than remorse.

  “Hmm. You will give me whatever I want?”

  “Whatever is in my power. I must have your love. Anything.”

  “Then you’ll tell my father that the wedding must be delayed until the blank Books are found—we both insist.”

  His face darkened.

  “It’s the price for your lack of control. If you want to earn my love, you can start by showing me that you’re a man who can receive as well as give punishment.”

  He dipped his head. “As you wish.”

  “And I will also require a gift from you as well.”

  “Yes, of course. Anything.”

  “I want a new servant.”

  “I’ll give you ten.”

  “Not just any servant. I want the albino. Thomas of Hunter.”

  She might have thrown water in his face. “That’s impossible.”

  “Is it? Unusual, yes. Disagreeable, certainly. But I’ve heard that this man is able to read the Books of Histories. You intend to execute the one man who can fulfill a dream of mine by revealing the Books to me? His death would not only be an affront to me, but it would be far too honorable for him. Better to keep him chained to a desk as a slave. The people would celebrate you for it.”

  She’d made the decision impulsively, just now, motivated by spite as much as by what Thomas might offer her. For all she knew, he was only pretending to read from the Books to extend his life.

  “Qurong would never allow an alb
ino to live in his castle,” he said, with less conviction than he should have.

  “He won’t live in this castle. He’ll live at the royal garden. In the basement of the library, under my supervision. If he can read the Books, my father will agree.”

  Woref didn’t like the idea, but she’d effectively cut his feet off at the ankles. There was a certain logic to the whole idea.

  “Ciphus won’t agree.”

  “Ciphus is no fool. He will see my reasoning.” And what about you, Woref? Are you a fool?

  She continued before he could dwell on her insinuation. “Consider it an early wedding present. I am requesting Thomas of Hunter in chains, a much more fitting present for me than his head on a platter.”

  He only stared at her.

  “You said ‘anything.’ Thomas of Hunter frightens you?”

  A look of utter contempt crossed his face. She’d gone too far. He turned and walked from the room.

  16

  The dungeon might very well have been the cleanest part of the entire city. They’d discussed it at length and decided that, because of the smell that seeped from every living Scab, this hole deep in the ground was one of the best places for them to be. The musty earthen scent of dirt and rocks was preferable. In fact, downright heavenly, Cain said.

  “I knew it,” Suzan said, pacing by one wall.

  “The question is whether they will execute us,” William said.

  Thomas looked at his companions, sickened that their fate wasn’t decided yet. “I’ll do everything in my power to get us out.”

  “And what power is that?” William asked.

  They had been told not five minutes ago by a temple guard. “It appears that death is too honorable for you,” the guard said with a smirk. “The mighty warrior is now a slave, is that it? Better to lick the toes of his conqueror than end it all with a sword.” He chuckled. “They collect you in ten minutes. Say good-bye to your friends.”

  “Where am I going?” Thomas demanded.

  “Wherever Qurong wishes. To the royal library today. It seems he needs a translator.”

  “And us?” William asked.

  “You’re a gift for the wedding.” He smiled and turned his back to leave. “Unfortunately, the wedding has been delayed,” he mumbled. Then he left.