by Gloria Craw
Glancing at her watch, Claire remarked, “We should head out, Logan. We have to drive over to the marina and stock the boat before the ceremony starts.”
“You’re slipping, Claire,” Logan teased. “You called it a boat again.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know I mean yacht.”
As they passed me on the way out, Logan gave me a wink and whispered, “Go get ’em, Laurel.”
Appreciating his support, I winked back and said, “Thanks.”
Lillian had a book handy, and she settled into one of the chairs to read.
“Any luck cracking the encryption yet?” I asked Theron as he followed me to my room.
“Nope,” he replied.
“We’re running out of time,” I said. “The roundtable is tomorrow night.”
“I know,” he responded with a note of irritation in his tone. “I think my newest algorithm will work, but it has to run its course.”
“Sorry to sound pushy,” I said with a sigh. “I’m just frustrated. I feel like I’m juggling a hundred unknown variables, and one of them is about to explode.”
He nodded his understanding and ran a hand over the top of the crate at the end of my bed. It was marked with a number one in black marker. “I’m ready to find out what’s in here,” he said. “How about you?”
“Sure,” I replied, “Do you have a crowbar?”
“I told Ian he would need a crowbar,” Theron replied, “but he…is not me.”
He pulled up on the lid with one hand and banged the underside of the lip with his palm. The creaking sound of nails loosening from wood followed.
“I’m impressed,” I said. “You’ve obviously had practice opening sealed shipping creates.”
“I may have spent some time on the docks…at night,” he admitted.
“Stealing stuff?” I asked with a chuckle.
He gave me a wily smile. “Don’t worry. It had all been stolen before. I was simply returning it to the rightful owner.”
“You’re a modern-day Robin Hood,” I remarked sarcastically.
“Let’s see what treasures await us,” he said, pushing a layer of yellow packing straw to the side.
I groaned when I saw what was underneath. “It’s the world’s oldest prank,” I said. “A box full of boxes.”
“Those don’t look like average boxes,” Theron remarked, leaning in for a closer look.
A zing of Laurel energy traveled up my arm as I lifted one out and put it on my bed. It was made of redwood and about the size of a dresser drawer. My eyes bulged as I took in the twinkling rubies, emeralds, and sapphires inlaid on the surface.
“Definitely not your average box,” Theron concluded. “Are you sure you want to open it? Maybe it’s full of your ancestors’ ashes or their skulls with jewels stuck in the eye sockets.”
I gave him a scathing look. “Don’t freak me out,” I said. “You want to know what’s in it as much as I do.”
Another zing traveled up my arm as I pushed the lid back but disappointment followed. The box was full of old clothes.
“That’s it?” Theron asked. “Ancient laundry. You’re right…it is the world’s oldest prank.”
Maybe there’s something underneath them,” I suggested.
I lifted a bundle of cloth and felt something hard inside it. Carefully unfolding what turned out to be a dress, I found two flat, gold ovals. They were about the size of my palm. I picked one of them up and peered in wonder at the intricate design on its surface. My family’s seal and motto had been etched into the metal. I turned it over to get a look at the back and found clasps, indicating it could be worn on fabric.
“I’ve seen these before,” I whispered more to myself than Theron. Lifting the second oval, I said in a louder voice, “I saw a drawing of these…or ones just like them. A girl had one pinned at her shoulder, and the guy with her was wearing one like a belt buckle.” I held an oval out to him. “You should wear this at the naming ceremony,” I suggested.
He studied the thing for a moment and shook his head. “I get an eerie feeling just looking at it. I think I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourself,” I replied, taking the ovals to the dresser and lovingly placing them beside the box that held my sapphire necklace. I thought they were beautiful.
“I wonder if other stuff is wrapped up in these clothes,” he said.
We took turns lifting things out and gently unfolding them, but it wasn’t until I was unwrapping the last dress that I found something else…a book.
It was long and thin with water damage to one corner. I carefully opened the cover and saw bold calligraphy and bright filigree that seemed to spring off the page like it had been drawn yesterday. I studied the letters but couldn’t make any sense of them.
“It’s our original language,” Theron explained, holding out his hands. “I can read it.”
I handed him the book, and we sat on the floor with our backs against the bed. “It doesn’t translate directly to English,” he said, squinting at the writing, “but the title is something like Turn of Fate.”
I gently lifted the first page to reveal the second, which featured a fanciful drawing. “Maybe this is a children’s book,” I commented.
The picture was of a girl standing on a hillside. She was wearing a long pink dress and had a wreath of flowers on her head. Upon closer examination, it was a gruesome scene. She was overlooking a battle in the valley. Some of the participants were missing arms, some missing legs, and a few were missing their heads.
Theron concentrated on the words above it for a moment. “So, this girl is a princess,” he said. “She’s watching her people at war with an invading army. As you might guess from the number of missing limbs, things aren’t going so well for them. Her team is on the verge of being defeated.”
He turned to the next page, where the picture was of the princess with an arrow through her shoulder. A boy in the distance was running to her aid.
“Yep, definitely not going well,” Theron remarked. “The princess says something about dying nobly for her people…like we haven’t heard that one before. The running guy urges her not to say such terrible things.”
The next illustration showed the princess collapsed in the grass. Her friend was holding her head in his lap. She looked pale and stressed out. A circle of white swirled in the air above them. For some reason, it gave me a feeling of déjà vu.
Theron turned the page again, and we both sucked in a breath. The swirling circle had gotten bigger, and there were people inside it. They sort of glowed and were reaching out to the girl.
“Holy crap,” Theron muttered. “Is that supposed to be a portal?”
Remembering how my mother had glowed white when she came through from the afterlife, I gulped. “I think so,” I muttered back.
“The glowing people are talking now,” Theron explained. “They’re telling the princess she can ask destiny to turn fate, but she has to go with them to do it. They tell her she can only come back to her world if her companion…a conduit…holds the way open.”
Theron and I locked eyes.
“My mother called us conduits,” I muttered like a robot.
“This is getting seriously weird,” he muttered back.
When he turned the page, the princess was stepping out of the swirling circle into somewhere different. It was a dry place. The grass was brown, the trees were leafless, and wispy, rainless clouds laced the sky. The people from the portal had disappeared, but in front of the girl was a very old dewing couple. I recognized them immediately.
“Don’t move,” I said, getting up to grab the German book off my bed. I opened to the last page and laid it under the children’s book. From their dead eyes to their drooping skin, the couples looked the same. Even the leafless trees behind them matched.
“Do you know who these people are supposed to be?” I asked.
He shook his head and replied, “No idea.” Then pointing to a phrase in the German book, he said, “Good thing I read
multiple languages. This means ones who shape destiny.” He pointed to some words in the other book and added, “And this means those who decide destiny.”
Thinking that through, I asked, “So is destiny a person…or persons?”
Seeming incredulous he responded, “If so, this is the first I’ve heard of it. Whoever they are, the princess is asking them to turn fate so her people will survive.”
“They don’t look very excited to help,” I commented.
He nodded agreement. “They want to know what she’s done to deserve the favor, so she lists off a few things.”
The next illustration showed the old woman breaking a branch from the tree behind her.
“It seems like whatever the princess did was enough,” Theron remarked, “because Mrs. Ugly says there are places on the ‘tree of destiny’ where fate branches in different directions. Breaking off one end determines where it will lead.”
I noticed a little bit of green growth where the woman broke the branch off. “That has to be a good sign, right?” I asked, pointing to it.
“Let’s find out,” he answered.
The next illustration featured the old man. He was pointing to the swirling circle.
“The princess has got more problems,” Theron explained. “Mr. Ugly is telling her the conduit guy has nearly exhausted his strength, and the way back is closing.”
He turned the page, and the picture showed the princess back in her own world. She’d made it in one piece, but neither she nor her friend looked very perky. Bloody warriors marched up the hill toward them.
“They aren’t in good shape,” Theron confirmed, “but it seems the princess’s army won.”
The last picture was grave. The princess and her companion were lying on their backs in a flowery field. Their eyes were closed. The branch Mrs. Ugly broke off the tree was laying across the princess’s stomach under her folded hands.
“Let me guess,” I said, feeling a pit in my own stomach. “They’re dead.”
“Right,” Theron replied, closing the book in disgust. “What a great bedtime story for kids.”
I took it from him and turned through the pages again. With a sense of dread, I asked, “Do you think this is an ancient version of us? Are we going to open a portal someday and die?”
He shook his head. “It’s just a story written by someone with a twisted idea of what kids like.”
“You really think that?” I asked.
He let out a long breath. “I really hope that. Anyway, the princess was mostly dead when the portal opened. Maybe that’s a prerequisite for passing through to the other side. As long as you stay mostly alive, neither of us have to worry.”
“Good point,” I replied with a silly smile.
He got up from the floor. “I need to get my clothes for the ceremony from Katherine,” he said. “I’ll meet you outside at eight.”
After he’d gone, I opened the German book and the children’s book to the drawings of the old dewing couple. I felt like there was something in those images I wasn’t seeing with proper perspective. I studied the illustrations until my eyes watered but couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
Chapter Eighteen
“Lillian,” I said, knocking at her door. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she replied, stepping out in the dress Katherine brought for her.
Hers wasn’t a shapeless drape like mine. It had long sleeves, a simple waist, and slim skirt. She looked lovely.
Ian met us as we were leaving the suite. “Is it you, Lillian?” he asked. “You’re gorgeous.”
She nodded once and walked past him.
“You’re gorgeous, too,” he said, preventing me from leaving.
Closing the door behind us, he touched the gold oval on my shoulder. “Wow,” he said. “There’s quite a vibration coming from that.”
“It’s one of a matching pair,” I responded proudly. “I found them in a crate in my room. Since I don’t have a signature of my own, I figured I’d borrow one.”
He nodded and, with his eyes shining, move the material below my neck. The sapphire he’d given me sat just above my heart.
“Your mom said the clothing is traditional,” I explained. “I wasn’t sure if modern jewelry would be allowed, so I put it on a longer chain. This way, no one will know I’m wearing it.”
“Except for me,” he said, with a fire in his eyes that made me melt.
He stepped closer, and I thought he was going to kiss me, but he pulled something from his pocket instead. Opening my hand, he set a round rock on my palm. Recognizing it as one from my brother’s collection, I felt stab of homesickness.
Trying to give it back, I said, “I can’t take this.”
“At sunrise tomorrow, you’ll become chief of the Laurel clan,” he said gently, “but a part of you will always be Alison McKye, the girl I fell in love with. Your parents and Alex helped form that person. A piece of them should be at your ceremony.”
I could feel tears coming and took a deep breath to regain my composure. Thinking maybe he was right, I put the stone with the Laurel dagger in a fold of material below my hip.
Everyone had parked their cars in a line at the front of the Arx. Theron was standing by Spencer and Katherine’s. I looked at his clothes and burst into laughter.
He was wearing a pleated sheet like me, but his was shorter, exposing his bare legs and a pair of sparkly sandals. “You look like Disney’s version of Hercules,” I managed to say.
“I so wish I could get a picture of this,” Ian wheezed, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “I could meme it in so many different ways.”
“Shut up,” Theron grumbled.
The pout and general unhappiness in his expression made me want to laugh harder, but I hugged him instead. “I owe you for this.”
“Yeah, you do,” he agreed.
Ian was trying to pull it together when Spencer came striding our way. He was dressed the same as Theron only his sheet was red. “I’d shut up, if I were you, Ian,” he said, glancing at his son. “You’ll be wearing one of these god-awful things at every naming ceremony after your own.”
Ian sobered immediately.
“Ha!” Theron rejoined. “This is a one-time thing for me. Who knows how many times you’ll have to dress up in a toga.”
The drive to the marina didn’t take long. I can only imagine what observers thought as thirty-two of us, dressed like ancient Greeks, walked down the pier at nine o’clock at night.
The yacht we boarded was huge, and like the Arx, it had four levels. Since we would be at sea for about twenty hours, each clan had a small cabin where they could keep their things and lie down if needed. Sharing with Lillian and me exceeded Theron’s awkwardness threshold, so he was bunking with Luke.
Lillian followed me into our cabin and sat on one of the beds. Her face was flushed, almost like she had a fever.
Concerned for her, I asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
She pulled a bottle of water from her travel bag, uncapped it, and gulped some down. “I thought I’d accepted it,” she said. “I thought it wouldn’t bother me…but it does.”
I had a good idea what she was talking about. “You mean seeing Valentine again?” I asked.
She nodded. “I passed him on my way out of the Arx. It was like traveling two hundred years back in time.”
“I would never have asked you to do this if I’d known about your history,” I responded. “Why didn’t you refuse to come?”
When she opened her eyes, they were teary. “Because destiny gave me something good when you walked into my bookstore,” she replied. “I need to hold on to the good things.”
Moved, I put an arm around her bony shoulders. “I’m really glad you’re here, Lillian.”
I could feel her give a small shutter. “I going to have to talk to him,” she said.
“No,” I responded. “I’ll help you avoid the Vasitass chiefs.”
“It’s time I made peace with the past,” she
responded with a shake of her head. “The only way to do that is to face it…and accept it.”
“Okay,” I replied. “I’ll be right beside you when you do.”
The chiefs started to gather on the deck at midnight. The boat’s engine cut, leaving us swaying on the waves. Since there were no other lights to distract from them, the stars shone extra bright in the sky. A brisk breeze chilled my skin as Phoebe came to stand by me.
Looking down at herself, she said, “Isn’t my dress beautiful?”
“I think we should wear these everywhere we go,” I said, indicating mine.
She giggled and nodded toward the old Bethex clan chiefs. “Let’s hope nobody’s clothes blow off,” she whispered. “Can you imagine those two standing in their underwear?” Her eyes widened with fear. “What if they aren’t wearing underwear?”
The idea made me giggle. Looking around for her witnesses, I asked, “Where are your aunt and uncle?”
“They’re staying below deck until the bonding ritual. They think the other chiefs abhor them because of Sebastian and have hardly left my suite since we got to the Arx. They’re going home as soon as we get back.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to face so much of this alone,” I remarked.
She shrugged. “I haven’t. I’ve had you.”
“Right,” I agreed.
Everyone quieted down when Spencer went to the front of the group. He said more boring stuff about what a great honor it was to take part in the naming ceremony and how traditions had guided and protected the dewing through millennia, then motioned to Phoebe, and she joined him.
Her voice was strong as she repeated her clan’s pledge. There was something about her when she spoke in front of people. The girl you thought you’d remember for her big nose became the girl you’d remember for her intelligence and eloquence.
When my turn came, I found myself gripped with remnants of stage fright. Wishing Ian was there to calm me down, I took a deep breath and then walked to the front of the group. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I managed to keep my voice even as I repeated, “The Laurel clan joins with other descendants of Atlantis in pledging ourselves to the greater good. Destiny formed us from deep waters and made us swift to understand. We vow to protect the source from corruption and contamination. We are guardians of the good.”