Seeing Light (The Seraphina Parrish Trilogy)

by Warren, Michelle

  “It’s me, Dad.” I swallow hard. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “Where am I?” His voice cracks; even though he’s trying to be strong, he must be scared out of his mind.

  “Don’t worry about that, just try to stay calm. Everything’s gonna be fine,” I say in the most soothing voice I can muster.

  He nods his head and bites his lip.

  “Just tell me what you want me to do,” I say to the Grand Master. Maybe there’s some way to trick him into letting everyone go, into letting him think that I’ll do what he wishes.

  “Now, that’s much better,” he coos. Two guards step up next to me and grab my arms. Grand Master Levi descends the stairs again and when he plunges into the thick liquid, it sloshes around, reaching his waist. He extends an arm as we come face-to-face and lodges one hand firmly on the back of my neck and squeezes, with the other hand he grips my shoulder. He steps to the side and with a quick snap, submerges my head into the oil before I have a chance to hold my breath. I’m not beneath the surface long before I feel the uncontrollable urge to gasp. I want to resist and desperately punch them to release me, but the guards hold me tightly at the wrists and elbows. I’m completely restrained and drowning.

  When I can’t take another second, my body finally does what I can’t make it stop doing, and I breathe. Warm oil rushes into my system, flooding my lungs, and the Grand Master quickly brings me to the surface.

  “That’s right, you only need to surrender to the oil of the Masters to be anointed,” he says as I choke and retch, searching for the air that will save me. But even as I hack with deep coughs, I can feel the warmth of the oil spreading through my insides, coating every organ, every vein, and every blood cell. It takes over, releasing chambers upon chambers of information into my system, as though all of it had always been there, the story of our beginning, our reasons for this Wandering life. Light floods my eyes and a peaceful calm overcomes me.

  “I see light,” I whisper.

  He hugs me in a loving way that makes me want to run away, but I can’t.

  “It’s done. The transition’s finalizing. It won’t be long now,” he says to soothe me.

  My body weakens, my muscles turn to jelly, and my brain is practically unusable. I’m transforming into a Chosen. A million needles full of otherworldly information inject into every pore of my body, and I’m unable to move. The Society guards drag me from the oil, up the stairs to the platform, and toss me onto the ground. I can’t see anything just yet, only feel that the Oaths continue to take place around me. I lay my head on the concrete and in the back of my mind, behind everything else, I hear Sam scream as she, too, is anointed.

  The chanting begins again, and as the students’ cloaks rustle, drums beat wildly and rhythmically in the background. Somehow in my mind I see everything in my head, as though the information of what’s happening has been given to me. This must be a gift of a Chosen.

  Each row of students steps into the oil and plunges into the water. With no help they practically drown themselves to the point of suffocation. As the first breath of oil rushes into their bodies, they simply stand, compose themselves, and move away for the next row to do the same. But they’re so robotic, they have no clue what they’ve done, that they’ve almost died. They don’t even know that they submitted themselves to the Oaths. They know nothing.

  Someone comes to me, pulls at my clothes, removing the heaviness of them, and then dresses me in something new of lighter-weight material. They take off my shoes and replace them with sandals, and then they secure a rope around my waist, tying me up like a present.

  I moan and roll from side to side, trying to lift myself out of this fog, needing to wake up to do something to save everyone.

  Finally the sheen of oil clears from my eyes, and the information I’ve downloaded settles into my soul like something I’ve known all along. Through newborn eyes, I sit up and look around, though I realize that I don’t need my eyes anymore. I can see everything in my mind in a bird’s-eye view, the way I do when I “see.”

  My old clothes lie far away in a pile and I peer at them groggily, thinking that the Scorpion Animate must be stuck beneath them. When I shift my perspective, I find four priestesses wrapping Bishop and Sam in fabric. They have removed their uniforms and are swaddling them in long sheets of flowing golden silk. My mind reels when it occurs to me that the priestesses are going through the steps to turn them into mummies. Somehow they’ve sedated my team, or maybe it’s the effect of the oil. And to my horror, there’s no sign of Ray or Macey.

  Even though I’m still sluggish, I attempt to stand to help them, but the Grand Master kicks my chest, sending me back to the floor. “First, we must sacrifice.”

  “No, no, no!” I press a hand in the air in their direction.

  Several elder members in robes lift first Bishop and then Sam into one wide wooden casket, laying them flat. Another member arrives with a lid, which is placed on top and nailed in place. A long chain lowers from the ceiling with a large hook at the end that is secured to the top of the box. Grand Master lifts both arms in the air, a signal to pull the box upward to the ceiling. A cranking noise echoes throughout the building as they are pulled hundreds of feet to the ceiling.

  Once they’ve reached the apex of the temple, the box halts for a moment, hovering high above the center of the room and swinging gently to and fro, the absence of the cranking noise leaving the room eerily silent. I hold my breath as my heart beats wildly, and startle when drums begin beating and the chanting begins anew. The box slowly descends with each drumbeat, keeping time with the chanting. In a few moments, the box will plummet into the fire pit at the center of the room, and Bishop and Sam will burn to death.

  I scream with anger, with heartbreak, with helplessness. There’s nothing I can do; I’m too exhausted to fight, and he knew I would be. Jerking my head in the Grand Master’s direction, I narrow my eyes and scream at him as I tremble with fury, “Why are you doing this?”

  He leans down, leveling his eyes with mine. “Why even worry? Now that they’re anointed and ready for the Masters, we can sacrifice them. You don’t need them anymore. All your connections have been severed. Don’t you see? Don’t you feel the difference? You’ve taken a majority of their gifts from them, sucked them right from their bodies over this past year. They’ve made you what you are and you’ve made them weak, while they’ve given you the power of three, making you a Chosen. They’ve already made their sacrifices—to you. Now they must make them to me.”

  “What?” I say the word automatically, but in my heart I know what he’s saying is true. I can see the truth of it for myself in my own mind. The Wandering connection has been broken. I don’t sense my team the way I had before, or need them the way I used to. Sam was right; I’m finally free, but in the worst possible way.

  I look away and gasp a sob. They’re almost completely defenseless and it’s my fault.

  “Tsk, tsk. Don’t cry, sweet child. You’re meant for something greater than the use of a mere team. You’ll embody the spirit of the Masters now.” He stands above me, crossing his large arms over his bare chest. “And now it’s time for you to go back and retrieve what I need.”

  “You haven’t even told me what that is!” Slowly it seems, he’s pinching my freedom so tightly that I have no choice but to comply with every request, and the thought sickens me. I glare at him and demand, “And how do you know that I won’t betray you and fulfill the prophecy instead?”

  “For one, I told you I’ve taken out insurance,” he says with a self-satisfied sneer. “Macey and your father stand at the edge of the pit of Nocturna, and if you don’t return with what I need, I’ll send them there too. They can keep Mona and sweet little Charlotte company in their final living days. And two, you won’t fulfill the prophecy because that possibility requires you to kill someone, and I know once you’re there, you won’t have the will to follow through.”

  “I’d kill you,” I spit out, in that m
oment believing every word.

  “No, you’ll do exactly what I ask to save your former team members.” He gestures to the box above the fire and turns to me, his lips twitching with amusement. “And by the look of things, you’d better hurry.”

  No matter how much I don’t want to give him the satisfaction, I can’t help but glance at the box lowering slowly toward the fiery pit. It’s closer now, much too close, and the warmth of the flames has already begun to darken the bottom. The fire briefly surges a little higher, and a few flames actually singe the edge, causing my heart to beat faster. My hands clench so tightly into fists that my fingernails pierce my skin, and I can feel the warmth of blood dripping from my palms.

  I swivel my head slowly toward the Grand Master and glare at him. “Just tell me what you want.”

  ::37::

  Egypt

  Grand Master Levi paces before the pit. “What I want is for you to travel back to our beginning with Unika’s crown and retrieve a canteen of the aqua vitae—the water that gives life.”

  “Water,” I repeat flatly.

  “That’s all. And if you succeed, all of this will be over.” He gestures around the Grand Lodge.

  “Everyone’s safe, my friends and family. And what about Bishop’s family and the people of Nocturna?”

  His lips quirk to one side. “Bishop’s family and the others of Nocturna sealed their fates the moment they violated the laws of the Society. ’Tis a pity, I had such high expectations for Charlotte. Lovely little thing.” He turns back to me. “Save who you can, Sera. It’s some or none at all.”

  With a nod that is clearly meant to end the debate, he says, “Rex has prepared you for your trip.” He gestures to my body, and I look down. I’m dressed in a linen tunic with a rope belt tied at the waist, a leather canteen hangs from my shoulder, and woven straw and reed sandals protect my feet. And I realize I saw this in my mind too, but my brain was just too cloudy to compute the information.

  The Grand Master hands me the crown of Unika; he must have taken it from my drawstring bag. I wipe the blood from my hands on the hem of my tunic before I accept it. “Hold the crown in your hand as you run to Wander. As a Chosen, your body will know where to take you. You are the only one who can Wander from Gibeon without a Wandering compass.”

  “But where am I to find this special water?”

  “In the palace there is a fountain with an obelisk. From it runs the aqua vitae.”

  Like the fountain in the drawing in my mom’s journal? I think of the room with the stars on the ceiling in the sketches. She’s drawn each room of the palace, the entire layout of the city, but where she found information so ancient, I still have no idea.

  “Ticktock, Sera. Your friends and family need you to save them.”

  I push myself to my feet and look around. All the students still stand zombie-like, but now they’re anointed and dripping with oil. Each glistens with the golden hue that is reflected from the walls by the flames of the fire pit. Somehow they’ve become part of the interior, just another tool for the Society to abuse.

  “I’ll be waiting for you, Sera,” the Grand Master reminds me.

  Now more than ever I must end this misery. I grasp the crown in my hand and look inward for the place I should Wander. In my new mind’s eye I see it clearly, though I’ve already seen it several times before: in dreams, in the hot air balloon ride, and in painted murals in the Academy’s atrium. It’s the desert.

  Feeling my energy coming back, I sprint over the raised pedestal, down its long length. There’s just enough running room, like an airport runway, and at the end, I leap into the air over the anointment pool and catapult into the blinding light of a glittering wormhole. The world doesn’t turn over for me like it has in the past, but I’m not the same as I was before. I’m not sure if I ever will be again.

  Wandering through time, I land in a field of wheat and fall to the ground. I rest for a moment, feeling the wind brush the long willowy strands against my bare arms and legs. I look up, not at the bright blue sky, but at the golden obelisk that stands pointing toward the heavens, just like in the story about King Unika.

  The strong sunlight beating down from directly overhead reflects the surface, creating a blind spot, and I cover my eyes as I stumble to stand. Trying to get my bearings, I desperately come to terms with the fact that I’ve traveled through time back to ancient Egypt. After all I’ve been through I should believe anything by now, but the strength of my new gifts will never cease to surprise me.

  Shielding my eyes, I scramble to my feet and pivot, surprising myself by walking directly into the bare chest of a guard. Before I can react, he grabs my arms, speaking angrily in what sounds like an ancient language. A second guard, somewhat younger, stands behind him and points a spear at my chest, poised menacingly just inches from my heart.

  It would have been helpful to know the language before coming here, but since no Wanderers travel here, only the Chosen such as myself, I’m not that lucky. Even in our world of Wanderers, some things are still a mystery.

  He screams at me again.

  “I don’t know what you’re saying,” I plead with outstretched hands.

  His eye widen at the unfamiliar sounds; of course they’ve never heard English before. Though I think I’m dressed properly for the time, he looks me over, his lip curled with what can only be disgust. His eyes widen when his gaze reaches my hand, and he rips the crown of Unika from me. Being caught in any era with the jewels of their king can’t possibly be good, so I cringe and await his reaction.

  Understandably he freaks out, gesturing wildly at me as he barks louder in his strange language. The younger guard with the spear takes the relic from him, and the older guard drags me around the obelisk to a donkey. The younger packs the relic into a pouch that hangs from the animal, and then he mounts the donkey and straddles it. He throws a rope to the elder and says something.

  The guard nods in response and jerks me to face him while he binds both my wrists with rope made of woven reeds. My mind spins…I have a decision to make: I can either let them take to me who knows where, or I can fight them. I’m not sure that my strength has completely returned or what it’s even turned into, but I decide to take my chances.

  Retracting bound fists, I bash him squarely on the nose. His head jolts backward as his nose erupts with an instant nosebleed. The reeds around my wrist loosen, releasing my hands, and I punch him in the face again, then launch away from him, running along the path through the fields.

  The younger guard yells at me as he takes chase on the donkey, the animal galloping faster than I expect. I’m running as hard as I can, pumping my arms as the breeze pushes at my face, my hair flying in the wind. If I can outrun the Reaper’s horse in Nocturna, I can certainly outrun a donkey. I push harder at the thought, but my toe catches under a large rock, tripping me, and I fall face first into the dirt. Before I have a chance to scramble to my feet, the young guard leaps off his moving animal and lands, pinning me to the ground. We struggle in the dusty dirt of the field—arms twisting, knees kicking, hair pulling—and I lean in and savagely bite his ear. He’s stronger than I expect, and though I draw blood, he continues to fight, restraining me until the second guard arrives.

  On my belly with my face shoved into the dirt, it’s impossible to resist anymore. They tie my arms again, this time so tightly, the wrapping of the reeds draws blood like a thousand paper cuts. The restraints wind their way from my wrists to my elbows—probably five times stronger than anything they’d do to a Normal.

  Then they tie me to the end of a long leash that stretches across the back end of the donkey. The young guard mounts the animal again and kicks its ribs. The donkey takes off in a gallop, forcing me to keep pace with them or I’ll fall and be dragged behind, which is probably what they’re hoping for.

  We travel for several miles, and even though I run the entire time, this is not so bad; the worry is much, much worse. Where are we going and what will they do to me? Th
is isn’t a school field trip Wandering back in time. There’s no Gabe to guide me, no notes to peek at with instructions.

  We enter a city alive with retail and trade, and when we pass through the market, everyone stops to stare, but they are the least of my worries. The donkey stops at the gates of a palace, and the young guard dismounts, shouting out several commands. More guards pour out from the main gates and I’m handed over to them, who then cut me loose from the horse and use the tether to pull me inside like an animal.

  Up the stairs, through the columns, they force me inside, pushing me through several chambers and hallways. It’s not until we reach the grandest room that they knock my legs out from under me, and I collapse to the floor on my hands and knees. A guard presses his foot on my back. He yells and I stay put, using the time to catch my breath and rest.

  Someone approaches. Through my new mind’s eye, I view the room from above. The room is full of people, but I only focus on the woman in front of me. Cascades of dark hair flow beneath a petite crown. Though I can’t see her face, I understand that she’s their queen.

  “Who are you?” a woman’s voice asks in English.

  Automatically I look up in confusion, only to glimpse a pair of ornate sandals.

  “I said, who are you?” She kicks my side until I flip over on my back. At the sight of her face, I instantly curl away in shock, because this face is one that’s haunted me for years.

  ::38::

  A Queen

  The woman steps forward; her shapely body shifts gracefully beneath her cream gown. In her hand she holds the crown of Unika, the relic I used to Wander here from the future.