by Alyson Noel
Bodhi squinted, taking his annoyance out on the straw he mangled hard between his teeth.
“The bridge will convince her.”
He sighed. One of those big, loud, exasperated kind of sighs that was soon followed by, “Excuse me, but did I not just tell you that—” But his words were cut short by the flash of my hand.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said, gazing between him and the prince. “Maybe I can’t force her to cross it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t lead her to it.”
They looked at me.
“And once she sees the promise it holds, well, there’s no way she can resist.”
“Yeah? And what if she does?” Bodhi asked, stubbornly refusing to see the absolute genius of my plan.
But I just shrugged. “Well, then I guess we’ll cross it, and leave her to stare at it for the rest of eternity. But there’s no way it’ll come to that,” I said, my voice bearing far more conviction than I actually felt.
“So how do you propose we get her there, to this … bridge?” the prince asked, still dressed in the rags he wore when we first met.
I dropped my hands to my sides and squinted at her—at the world she’d created, the one that once seemed so large and overwhelming, only to be reduced to the size of an average thirteen-year-old girl.
She glared at us, all of us. Her fists raised in anger, shouting every type of threat she could think of. And she was so furious to see her little dog Shucky (back to being the tiny version of himself) sitting right alongside Buttercup that she even included him in those threats.
To be honest, if you’d asked me at that moment how I planned to get her anywhere even close to that bridge, well, I really couldn’t have said. I mean, it’s not like the journey was all that long, since all we had to do was make the soft golden veil of light and slip through it to the other side, but still, how would we get her through it?
How would we lead her first to Summerland, and then, hopefully, to the Here & Now just beyond?
Then it hit me—why not just roll her there?
After all, the bubble was perfectly round, which should make it easy enough. And though I knew she wouldn’t like it, by that point, I admit, I wasn’t really all that concerned about that.
I approached the globe, placed my hands on either side of the space where her eyes glowed and her cheeks flamed bright red, and I started to push. Rolling her slowly at first, seeing her tumble and fall and totally freak as her whole world was sent upside down and a crazy swirl of ash sprayed all over the place.
And just as I was about to deem it a somewhat awkward, but still overall, success, one of Prince Kanta’s brothers, a former slave whom I recognized from that sadistic bowling game of Rebecca’s father’s, placed his hand on my arm, and when our eyes met, what I saw practically brought me to my knees.
And I watched in amazement as he took my place, knelt down to the ground, and attempted to lift the bubble right onto his back.
At first I didn’t understand the gesture. Didn’t understand why he’d chose to burden himself like that. But then, when all of the other slaves joined in, it suddenly began to make sense.
They had forgiven her.
They had released themselves not just from her manifested world but also from their centuries-long connection to her.
By holding on to their anger, hatred, and calls for revenge, they’d remained enslaved well past the time of their deaths.
Their true liberation, their true path to freedom, lay in their ability to forgive.
A forgiveness that didn’t absolve Rebecca or her father of the horrible things they had done, but rather freed the slaves of their connection to those horrible things, as well as their connection to those who’d committed them, allowing them to finally move on.
Then, just when I was sure I’d seen it all, Prince Kanta shocked me even more when he said, “Allow me.”
And a moment later, he’d manifested a beautiful, luxurious litter—like the kind Cleopatra rode—and together, they placed the globe upon it, immune to the sight of Rebecca kicking and screaming and sending great plumes of ash all around. As a whole group of former slaves stepped forward to grab hold of the shiny, golden rail that ran along its sides, as Bodhi and I joined hands, closed our eyes, and manifested that soft, golden light that leads to Summerland.
The two of us standing back in awe, watching as the very people who were enslaved by Rebecca and her father carried her right through that veil in what I will forever carry in my head as the ultimate picture of forgiveness.
23
When we got to Summerland, they lowered the litter onto that vibrant, buoyant grass. Each of the slaves taking a moment to place their hands on the glass and leave her with a blessing of peace, before Prince Kanta stepped forward to say, “You have liberated my brothers and sisters. Because of you, Miss Riley Bloom, they are now freed not only from their physical enslavement but, more importantly, from the enslavement of their own minds. I speak on behalf of all of us when I say that we are eternally grateful to you for showing the way.”
I quickly shook my head, fought to work past that choked-up feeling in my throat, and glanced down the long line of them as I said, “I only introduced them to that glimmer of silence. They grew it from there.”
Even though I meant it, even though I knew they’d truly done the hardest work of all—quieting their minds of all the anger and hatred and judging and chaos, along with their very justified rage regarding their own horrific pasts—I still couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of myself.
I also couldn’t wait to get in front of a mirror to see how an act like that might’ve affected my glow.
But that would have to wait till later. Much later. At that point, I still had a whole lot of souls to cross over.
So when Prince Kanta peered from me to the bridge—a rather ancient, rickety-looking, splintered-wood-and-rope contraption—I just nodded and said, “Yep, that’s it. Paradise awaits you on the other side. Only they don’t call it paradise, they call it the Here & Now—but, anyway, you’ll learn about all that soon enough.”
“And Rebecca?” he asked, turning back toward the globe. “Will she ever find the peace to free herself?”
But I just shrugged. I had no answer for that. It was pretty much anyone’s guess.
He motioned for the group to go before him, and after shaking my and Bodhi’s hands, after kneeling down to pat Buttercup and Shucky on their heads, they squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, straightened their backs, and made for the bridge in what looked to be a seemingly endless procession.
And even though I knew there would be plenty more souls to catch in the future, even though I knew I’d soon rack up all kinds of interesting assignments, in possibly even more exotic locations than St. John in the Virgin Islands, somehow I knew that this would always stand out in my mind.
Not because I’d insisted on exercising my free will and going it alone.
Not because I’d had no idea how it would go over with Aurora and Royce and the rest of the Council (something I hadn’t really stopped worrying about despite the success of my mission).
But because there was a really good chance I might never again witness something as powerful.
And as they continued their march, the bridge swaying and dipping but still strong enough to hold them all, making their way past the heavily fogged and shrouded halfway mark, this particular part of Summerland, an area that was always wet and misty and shrouded in haze, became as bright and warm as any spring day back home on the earth plane.
It actually began to glow.
I turned to the prince, seeing him hesitate, gazing at Rebecca with great concern as she continued to scream and rant and rave. And what bothered me most about seeing her carrying on like that was I knew it made the prince feel like he’d failed.
“This is not good,” I whispered to Bodhi. “I really thought she might come around once she saw this place, but, apparently, she’s more far gone than I thought.”
But Bodhi just looked at me, straw bobbing up and down in his mouth as he mumbled, “Maybe.”
I squinted, having no idea what that was supposed to mean.
“It means, we’ll see.” He shrugged, clearly taking advantage of the fact that his thoughts were completely unavailable to me.
I focused back on the former slaves, and as soon as the last one had crossed, I watched in complete and total astonishment as Bodhi reached toward the former Snarly Yow/Black Shuck/Phantom Dog/Galleytrot/Shug Monkey/Hateful Thing/Hell Beast-turned-tiny-yippy-breed-of-indeterminate-mix, grabbed the ball that lay at his feet, and aimed it straight toward the bridge. Smiling in triumph as it pierced through the haze that obscured the middle and little Shucky went yapping and yipping, and chasing right after it.
“Hey! That’s cheating!” I cried, gaping at him in complete disbelief. “I can’t believe you did that—I can’t believe you forced him like that.”
But Bodhi just looked at me, shaking his head as he said, “No one forced anyone. That dog acted upon his own free will. He chose to go after that ball, just like you chose to exercise your free will when you chose to go after him.” He bobbed his straw at me. “Free will is a powerful thing, Riley. Sometimes it’s the only way to realize your true destiny, though it does require a fair bit of trust—in yourself, in the universe—as I’m sure you now know.”
I nodded, carefully collecting his words and storing them away for later. Knowing I’d want to go over them, review them, but at that moment, all of my attention was claimed by Rebecca.
Claimed by the way her jaw dropped, the way her eyes went impossibly wide, the way her face wore an expression of both outrage and surprise as she watched her dog happily sprint to the other side.
“Where’d he go?” she asked, her anger edged out by wonder.
“He went home,” I said quietly, looking right at her. “And you’re welcome to join him if you want. The choice is yours.”
She glanced between us, and the way she looked at that moment, well, all I can say is I was filled with hope for her for the first time that day.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, she still looked a little red around the cheeks, a little grim around the lips, but still, it was pretty clear that the fight was beginning to leak right out of her.
She stood facing us, locked inside a world she’d already spent far too much time in. Her fingers beginning to unclench, her hands to uncurl, as she stared into the glowing golden promise of light and whispered, “Oh my goodness … It’s all true!”
I admit, I totally misread that at first.
I was sure she was referring to the light, to paradise, the Here & Now, whatever you prefer to call it. It was an awesome sight, and once witnessed, the pull was nearly impossible to resist.
But I was wrong.
As it turns out, it was even better than that.
Rebecca wasn’t just referring to that awesome golden glow—she was referring to the truth she’d seen residing inside it.
A truth she’d resisted for so many years, centuries really, that was now projecting in a way that couldn’t be missed.
She saw the truth of her life—and that of Prince Kanta’s as well. But despite her horrible, selfish acts, she also saw it wasn’t the grim place of punishment she secretly feared.
It was a place of love and warmth and understanding of the deepest kind.
It was a place where she’d never again feel so alone as she had in her life.
She also saw the dim outline of her mother, waiting for her at the halfway mark.
And the next thing I knew, her entire world shattered.
Her globe broke.
Her bubble burst.
As a hail of glasslike shards flew about, hovering in the air for a moment in a way that resembled a shimmering blanket of stars, before softly falling to the ground where they landed at her feet and melted into the grass.
She moved toward the prince, and I couldn’t help but tense, but then Bodhi put his hand on my arm, Buttercup nudged up beside me, and I began to calm again. And just when I was sure she was going to curtsy before him in the way she’d done with me, she did something entirely different.
Something I wasn’t expecting.
She knelt all the way down to her knees and rested her head at his feet in the ultimate act of humility.
Refusing to rise again until the prince gently urged, “Child, please. It is not necessary.”
He reached for her hand and helped her to stand until she was once again facing him. Only this time her rage was all gone, having dissolved with the bubble, leaving a very sorry, very humbled young girl in its place.
“I am so very sorry,” she said, her voice faint, tremulous, “for what I’ve done to you—for what my father did to you…” She shook her head and winced at a memory she’d denied for centuries. Finally able to see the truth of everything—of every horrible act committed against him—and I knew at that moment that the old Rebecca had gone and a new one had taken her place. “I have no idea how I’ll ever make it up to you, but I promise I will. I’ll do whatever it takes, just tell me where to begin.”
Her eyes and cheeks glistened as a stream of crystalline tears spilled down her face. And I watched in amazement as the prince leaned forward, caught one of those tears on the tip of his finger, and turned it into a beautiful olive branch.
“There is no need.” He placed the branch into her outstretched hands. “I forgave you long ago. I was just waiting for you to rid yourself of your anger. Believe me when I say that the physical suffering I endured as a slave was nothing compared to the suffering of the bubble when I was tortured by my own mind, my own memories of the horrible things that’d been done to me, as well as the horrible things I had done to others.” He paused, making sure she understood, before he offered his arm and said, “So, what do you say? Shall we?”
She nodded softly and entwined her arm around his, the two of them stopping before us, as Rebecca looked at me and said, “I’m so sorry, I—”
But I just flashed my palm and stopped her right there. “No worries,” I told her. “Trust me, this is hardly good-bye. The Here & Now may be a pretty big place, but I’m sure I’ll see you again. I’ll just look for the girl with the bright yellow bow and the sparkly dress.”
She gazed down at herself, clearly embarrassed to wear such attire while the prince was in rags.
And so he immediately manifested a new tunic for himself, while she took the opportunity to change into something a little less gaudy, a little more drab.
Then after shaking hands and hugging, and saying what turned out to be a pretty tearful good-bye, I started to turn away, sure it was really, truly over, when they reached the foot of the bridge and the prince turned to say, “Miss Riley!”
I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his gaze, and, well, let’s just say that’s when I finally reached the second goal I had made.
Not only had I broken down that bubble and ushered all those lost souls toward their true intended destinies, but because of it, the prince had rewarded me with the most warm and wonderful full-on, white-toothed, dimple-inducing smile.
“What’s that about?” Bodhi asked, glancing between us.
But I just shrugged, smiling and waving good-bye to the prince as I said, “Trust me, you wouldn’t understand.”
24
The second they were gone, Bodhi looked at me and said, “So what now? You still want to finish your vacation? We never did check out the town.”
But I just shook my head. As far as I was concerned, my little vacay was o-v-e-r. No matter how cool that town was reputed to be, no way could it hold a candle to the places I’d been.
I’d just experienced the kind of amazing St. John adventure that could never be found in any brochure, which pretty much guaranteed that anything that followed would only pale in comparison.
“So what, then?” He crouched down to pet Buttercup, while still gazing at me. “You wanna go somewhere else? The Coun
cil’s not expecting us back any time soon, which means we can pretty much do whatever we want.”
I narrowed my gaze, drummed my fingers hard against my hips, and took a little time to analyze what he’d just said.
Why was he trying so hard to keep me at a party that was so clearly over?
Was he baiting me?
Trying to trick me by seeing if I’d choose lingering in St. John over heading back to the Here & Now and face the repercussions for taking on a job that hadn’t been assigned to me?
Or was he serious about continuing the vacation?
And if so, for what reason?
Was it so we could continue to get to know each other better?
Because, quite frankly, after experiencing what it was like to be him during that whole scene with Nicole, I was pretty much feeling like I knew him better than I ever wanted to, thankyouverymuch.
And, I have to say, the longer I pondered, the more of a conundrum I found myself in—one in which I was, yet again, torn between both the more rational and paranoid sides of me.
“Let’s go,” I said, nodding firmly so he’d know I was serious. “Let’s just make our way back.”
He looked at me, his eyes gone all squinty as he made some totally disgusting slurping sound with his straw.
“Seriously. I mean, we’re almost there anyway, so why delay any further?”
And the way he looked at me, well, let’s just say it was so revealing, I couldn’t help but realize that Bodhi wasn’t actually baiting me per se—it was more like he was baiting himself through me.
He was the one who didn’t want to return.
He was the one who was afraid to go before the Council.
After everything we’d just accomplished, which was pretty dang major if I do say so myself, he was feeling pretty insecure about how it might go over—doubting the Council would view it in his favor.