by G. P. Ching
“You have all the time in the world. You own time. Why didn’t you go down?”
“I offered. I wanted to, but Dr. Silva said, ‘no.’ Your blood, your door, remember? She was afraid that if anyone besides you went down there, it might be a trap. Especially for her. Who knows what your great-great-grandfather had in store for a Watcher who spilled your blood.”
Jacob shook his head. “How would my grandfather even know what a Watcher was?”
Mara’s brow furrowed and she lowered her chin incredulously. “Jacob, your great-great-grandfather was a Soulkeeper.”
“No, I get it from my mother’s side.”
“Do you even go to science class? It’s a recessive gene. A chromosome from your mother and a chromosome from your father must combine to create a Soulkeeper. Your mother is a Soulkeeper, so that meant you would receive at least one Soulkeeper gene from her but the second one had to come from your father, and he inherited it from his father, who inherited it from his father, who had it because your great-great-grandfather was a Soulkeeper.”
“Okay, I’m buying the genetics part but how do you know it was my great-great-grandfather? It could’ve been anyone in my father’s family tree.”
“I don’t. But Dr. Silva does. She says she knew him when he was alive. It’s how she knew you’d be coming someday. He left this for you, Jacob.”
He was about to argue when he remembered the conversation he’d had last year with Katrina. Their great-great-grandfather’s last will and testament required the shop be left to a male Laudner heir. If he understood correctly, the man had gone to great lengths to ensure the Laudners couldn’t deny the provision. The legal arrangements were airtight. It never made sense to Jacob why a man would do such a thing. But if his great-great-grandfather had somehow known that Jacob would come and that he would be a Soulkeeper, then it all made sense. If this was left for him, it was something important.
“I’m going in,” Jacob said, moving toward the sunken spot on the floor. He pushed on the emblem and the marble panel swung inward, revealing a three-foot drop and a winding staircase.
“I’m coming with you,” Mara said, stepping in close to his side.
“It’s too dangerous. We have no idea what’s down there.”
“Better that I go first then. I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home.”
Jacob stopped, hit by the blatant honesty and sadness in her words. That was the thing about Mara, she had this hard sarcastic exterior like she could rip his head off both literally and figuratively. Then she would blast him with a piece of personal history that made him feel so sorry for her he’d do almost anything to make her feel better. “We go together,” he said firmly. He reached up and took her hand, helping her drop into the passageway.
“We need a flashlight,” Mara said. “No, wait, there’s a lamp on the wall. We just need to light it.”
“John keeps a lighter for the votive arrangements. Hold the door. I’ll get it.”
Jacob ran to the front of the store and grabbed the lighter from behind the cash register. He dropped into the hole after her, flicking the switch and lowering it to the dusty wick of the oil lamp. First one lamp came to life, then a line of them one after another. The lamp oil drew the flame down the passageway, igniting lamp after lamp until the flame turned the corner beyond what he could see. Jacob took a few steps downward and allowed the door to close above him.
He swallowed. “Only one way to find out what’s down there.”
“After you,” Mara said.
He descended the spiral staircase, running his hand along the cold, stone wall. When he could see the landing at the bottom, a breeze blew up, causing the flames to flicker. “This must lead outside. I was wondering why it wasn’t stuffy in here after being closed up for so long.”
“Weird,” Mara said flatly.
Jacob reached the landing and emerged inside a vast cavern filled with the most beautiful white sand. About thirty feet away, hitched to a stalagmite, was an old-fashioned wooden sailboat, the sail stowed away.
“Do you think there used to be water here?” Jacob asked.
“Seems like it. I doubt that sailboat was always wedged in the sand like that. Maybe in 1850 the water table was higher.” Mara squatted down and ran her fingers through the sand. “Wow. It’s soft. I’ve never seen sand like this.”
“There’s nothing else here. Do you want to check out the sailboat? Maybe there’s something inside?”
“Sure.”
Climbing over the side of the boat, he soon discovered there wasn’t much to see. Two wooden benches stretched across the hull on either side of the boom and behind the mast. There was no rudder and only one sail. Jacob tugged on the outhaul. The canvas sail rose slightly. A warm breeze blew through the cavern, stirring up the sand and tousling Jacob’s hair.
“What are you doing?” Mara shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bench.
“I’m going to raise the sail,” Jacob said. He yanked the outhaul more purposefully. Halfway up, the breeze in the cavern grew to a solid wind worthy of a thunderstorm.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Jacob,” Mara said, clinging to the side of the boat as her ebony hair whipped across her face.
Jacob ignored her. On impulse, he hoisted the sail into position and tied it off. A chug-chug-chug like an approaching train echoed through the cavern. Jacob’s eyes widened as the reverberation became deafening and the wind accelerated to the point where he gripped the side of the boat as dutifully as Mara. “Hold on!” he yelled to her but his voice was muffled by the growing storm.
It came like an explosion. A forceful ball of fire rolled through the cavern, bouncing off the back wall and pounding into the open sail. The boat shot forward like a rocket, coasting across the sand and sending waves of it spraying up on either side of the boat. Jacob ducked down low, as did Mara, mouths open in screams that were lost in the power of the blast.
Jacob tried to watch where the boat was going but the walls of the cavern were nothing but a blur. He braced himself for the inevitable collision with the end of the cavern and closed his eyes tightly to stop from getting ill. But several screams later, the boat slowed, and he opened his eyes. They weren’t in the cavern any longer. The sailboat floated under a pristinely blue sky.
“Mara, look!” he yelled.
The river beneath the boat was Caribbean blue, the water carving through miles of white sand toward an oasis. At the tree line, there were two enormous statues of angels, swords crossed. When Jacob passed under them, an endless fire arced over his head, licking up the swords from hilt to tip of blade. Jacob had the eerie feeling he was being watched. And then an intense pressure squeezed the breath from his lungs, pinched in some invisible grasp. He had the impression he was being sifted, his cells passing through a membrane. The weird feeling passed as quickly as it had come.
The boat entered the oasis, and a paradise of tropical trees made him forget about the feeling. Colorful birds darted above him and the climate was as perfect as any he’d been in, including Hawaii.
The sailboat docked itself at a sandy beach. The sail rolled down and stowed itself away on its own. Jacob tied the rope to the long bamboo dock and helped Mara out.
“Where do you think we are?” he asked.
Mara shrugged, chewing the remainder of her sucker and stowing the stick in her pocket. “There’s a path.” She moved toward the place where the trees parted.
Jacob followed. The whole environment reminded him a little too much of the deadly garden that used to exist in Dr. Silva’s backyard. Wary and alert, he scanned the plants for anything that seemed capable of drawing blood.
“Chill out, Jacob. You’re making me nervous. Stop acting so … twitchy,” Mara said.
“I’ve learned not to trust anything that looks too beautiful.”
“Is that why you’re with Malini?” Mara snickered.
Jacob jerked like he’d been punched in the gut. “For your information, Malini is the mos
t beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I do trust her and she trusts me. But her beauty is authentic. You can’t compare her to people who’ve altered themselves for some ill-conceived notion of what others think is attractive.” As he said it, he made a point of focusing on her pierced lip.
“I was just joking, Jacob. You don’t have to be mean.” She advanced more quickly down the path, pushing branches out of her way as she went.
“And neither do you,” he said. “You’ve had a problem with Malini since the moment you got to Paris. Why?”
“Let’s just say, in my experience, she’s the type of girl who gets everything she wants.”
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean—” Jacob cut off his question abruptly because, as Mara pushed aside a palm frond, the sight of a plantation-style mansion came into view. Under a tiled roof, a series of white archways welcomed them.
“There’s a sign,” Mara said. She walked over to the wooden square that had long been overgrown with leafy vines. “I need something sharp.”
Jacob pulled the water bottle from the pocket of his hoodie and produced a dagger. He sliced through the vines and Mara swept them away with her hands. He stared, speechless. The sign read: The Eden School for Soulkeepers Est. 10,000 BC.
“There’s a school for Soulkeepers?” Jacob asked.
“Not anymore by the looks of things. I don’t think anyone has been here in decades.”
“Let’s go inside.”
Jacob led the way, cutting across the overgrown prairie that used to be a yard and stepping up onto the veranda. There were two oversized wooden doors with iron pulls. He took one and Mara the other. The doors swung open with the rusty screech of disuse.
The foyer they entered made the Taj Mahal look like Motel 6. Every color of the rainbow glinted in the sunlight that cascaded through the doors. The walls were encrusted with gold and gemstones.
“Holy expensive taste, Batman.” Jacob gawked at the jewel-encrusted depiction of Adam and Eve standing under an ornate tree on the ceiling.
Mara sighed. “Adam and Eve don’t look anything like I pictured. They’re short. And Adam is … lacking.”
“Lacking?”
“That’s an awfully small fig leaf, don’t you think?”
“Mara!” Jacob laughed. He was going to say it was an artist’s depiction and not necessarily accurate, but then stopped himself when he realized it was quite possible whoever built this school knew exactly what Adam and Eve looked like. “Should we look around?”
“We should.”
He led the way toward the hallway to his left and opened the first door he came across. Inside, the classroom looked like a modern chemistry lab. “What the hell? This stuff looks fairly new?”
From one of the lab tables, Mara picked up a beaker. “The bottom says it was manufactured in 1950.”
Jacob pulled open the drawers of the desk at the front of the room. Nothing. He hurried to the next room. This one was filled with old-fashioned school desks: old fashioned as in 1960’s style, not Flintstones era.
Mara ran to each one, lifting the top and running her hand inside. “They’re cleaned out.”
Jacob tried the teacher’s desk, opening all of the drawers. Within the center drawer Jacob felt a tiny corner of paper trapped in the joint. He slid his hand in and pinched it tightly, then pulled. It came slowly, like a printer with a paper jam, inch by inch from between the wood and metal. Finally freed, the typed piece of paper made his stomach twist.
“They had classes in Detection, Combat, Poisons and Antidotes, History of Good vs. Evil … Mara, this is a class schedule. They were teaching Soulkeepers here. What happened to this place? Why did they stop?”
“I don’t know, Jacob. The man who trained me, he said that at one time there was a council, a group of retired Soulkeepers and religious leaders that helped organize the Soulkeepers. He said they disbanded. He never explained why.”
“Dr. Silva never told me anything about a council.”
“What would be the point if it didn’t exist anymore?”
In a silent funk, Jacob worked his way down the hall. There was a dojo for martial arts training, fully equipped. How much his mother would have appreciated that as a new Soulkeeper! There was a lecture hall with what looked like a skeleton of a Watcher on display near the podium. At the end of the hall, a flight of stairs led them to the second floor.
“These look like offices,” Jacob said, peeking in the open door of the first room. There was a wooden desk and bookshelf of dusty tomes.
“Jacob, I think you should see this.”
Jacob turned to where Mara was standing across the hall. She was staring at a plaque outside the door to an office. This room was bigger than the others and the leaded glass in the windows led him to believe whoever worked there was someone important. Jacob squinted at the copper plaque, reading through the tarnish.
Warwick Crusaford Laudner, Provost. “Mara, does this say what I think it says?”
“Yes, Jacob. Your great-great-grandfather ran this school.”
“Damn.”
“Hmm. What you said.”
Jacob ran his finger along the letters. When they didn’t offer up any answers, he walked around the open door into the office. There was a desk facing the door that was obviously for a secretary. It was empty. Behind it was a closed door decorated with stained glass. Jacob reached forward and turned the knob.
Mara laughed. “I feel like I’m breaking into the principal’s office at school. I hope we don’t get detention.”
Jacob ignored her and pulled the door open. Inside, the office was opulent. A multi-tiered shelf full of crystals and stones in all shapes and sizes stood at the back, filtering the light as it came through the window. A map of the world stretched across an entire wall and an enormous and intricately carved desk rested in front of a leather chair in the middle of the room. There was a piece of paper centered on the desk. He turned the yellowing page toward him.
“It’s a note from my great-great-grandfather. It’s a notice to all Soulkeepers.”
“What does it say?”
“It is with deep regret that I must announce the closing of the Eden School for Soulkeepers. The low numbers of Soulkeepers born to our world and the high mortality rate have forced those of us who teach here to join those who fight on the other side. Effective immediately, all living Soulkeepers, including teachers, council members, and students, will report to the front lines. If we should be successful in these dark times, it will be because we acted with courage and virtue, united in our singular goal. The beast must remain chained. God have mercy on our souls. Sincerely, W. C. Laudner.”
“My God, Jacob, how bad must it have been? For them to leave this place, give up their safety, their entire structure. How close were we to complete Watcher takeover?”
“Couldn’t have been that bad, right? We’re still here. They must have been successful.”
“Yeah, but they aren’t here. They’re dead. You know, before Dr. Silva, I had never met another Soulkeeper besides my Helper, Mr. Bell. I’m still not sure how Abigail found me. How many Soulkeepers do you think there are left?”
Jacob blinked in her direction, the words rumbling through his head. “We should go back. We need to ask Dr. Silva.”
Mara became freakishly still, as if a current of electricity was rooting her to her spot.
“What’s wrong?” Jacob asked.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that Dr. Silva has been around for more than a lifetime but she never told you about this? She said she knew your great-great-grandfather. It seems like an important piece of information to overlook. Unless she wanted to leave it out.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, maybe Dr. Silva isn’t as trustworthy as we think she is.”
“Don’t be stupid. She didn’t try to hide the trap door from me.”
“She couldn’t. I’d already seen it.”
“She’s done nothing but help me
. And, she’s helped you. She found you. She’s letting you live in her house.”
Mara frowned. “You’re probably right.”
Jacob strode out the door and into the hall. Mara followed at his heels. “We should go back. We should ask her about this. I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
“Yeah, plus I’m guessing the hospital has noticed you missing by now. The Laudners are probably wondering where you are. We don’t want them asking too many questions.”
“Agreed.”
Jacob hurried out of the building and back down the path to the dock, Mara following close behind. He folded the letter and tucked it in his jeans pocket next to the schedule. Mara crawled into the boat, taking a seat near the bow. Untying the boat and stepping in after her, Jacob raised the sail. This time, when the fire and wind launched them back into the cavern under the Laudners’ shop, he knew what to expect. But it wasn’t until he dropped onto the sand and stood on the dark, lamp-lit landing that Jacob realized where he’d been.
Breathing the heavy air, the weight of an evil world settled on his shoulders. The change was both physical and emotional. All his fears and insecurities returned at once.
“We were in Eden,” Mara said, shoulders sagging.
Jacob felt the loss that was apparent in her words. Eden was perfect, like being immersed in pure light. He hadn’t appreciated it for what it was until he’d left.
He paused, resting his hands on his knees until his body adjusted to being in the real world. When he’d recovered, he helped Mara climb the stairs and emerged into the blood-covered back room. Jacob wondered if the wistful nostalgia he felt for Eden was one tenth of what Adam and Eve had felt the day they were cast out forever.
Chapter 18
Vision Quest
Through a stucco archway, Malini exited the warehouse of fabric. The swoosh-swoosh of Fatima’s weaving faded as she crossed the veranda and took her first steps onto the path that led into the forest. At first the trees were far apart, like an English countryside or a city park. Hours passed and the landscape darkened, overcast by trees that crowded the path and twisted into each other overhead. With the dark came mist and moss that hung like gray beards from the tangled limbs. The air grew thick and her slippers squished with every step on the now muddy pathway.