by Bryan Davis
Tsayad stared at him, his mouth agape. Then, ever so slowly, the white-haired man's lips spread out again into a wide smile. He clapped his hands twice, intertwining his fingers after the second clap. Then, swiveling toward Kelly, he sang again, this time in rapid bursts.
Kelly interpreted. “I am pleased to see that you are a virtuoso with my master's chosen instrument. This bodes well for your qualifications. And I am saddened over your losses, but I cannot help you find your loved ones. Perhaps your tragedies explain why you have been sent here. Our current supplicants always bear heart-wrenching sorrows, but that is their purpose, is it not?”
For a moment, he stopped singing. He raised one hand to his chin while the other held the book at his thigh with the pages facing out, his thumb still marking his place. Nathan peeked at the black marks within — a complex musical score, too far away to read.
After a few more seconds, Tsayad's eyes flashed with light. He sang once more, this time with even greater enthusiasm.
Kelly's voice spiked with energy, as if echoing the man's emotion. “It is clear from your musical gift that you are a qualified supplicant, so we should take you to your station immediately. With the brewing crisis in the triad, it is fitting that the travelers sent you to us.”
When he stopped singing again, he turned and gestured for them to follow, his smile warm and inviting.
Nathan glanced at Kelly and Daryl in turn. “Any clue what he's talking about?”
Both girls shook their heads. “I guess we can follow,” Kelly said. “What choice do we have?”
“I can't argue with that.” As Nathan advanced with Kelly and Daryl following close behind, the guardian nodded, opened his book, and marched away slowly, singing once again.
Kelly whispered the meaning, her words barely audible as their shoes squeaked on the glassy path.
To conquer wisdom's doom,
We lift the holy tower
With darkness fed by gloom
Absorbed by torment's power.
Nathan grimaced. So dark and dismal. And this certainly wasn't the voice that had filled his mind with beauty, a beauty so rich he could smell it in the air. Even the tune seemed warped, dissonant, twisted.
As they continued, the fog bank enveloped them, leaving only the bare outline of the guardian visible in front. The vapor muffled his song and Kelly's translation, yet not enough to make them inaudible.
Travailing songs they raise
In desperation's throes.
Their sacrifice we praise
In cantabile prose.
O let the worlds below,
Forever locked in dread,
Send anguished cries of woe,
Our sustenance, our bread.
A sense of cold filtered through the air. Nathan shivered. Every verse sounded more and more ominous, matching the foreboding gloom that weighed him down with each step into the thickening mist. Yet, what could they do but follow? He had no idea how to go home.
Fortunately, Tsayad ended his song. A more textured surface below had silenced their shoes, leaving their uneasy breathing as the only discernible sounds. Kelly clutched his elbow from behind but said nothing. She didn't have to speak. Her fears came through her trembling fingers loud and clear.
After another minute or so, the mist thinned out, allowing a vague white light to shine through from above. The path widened until the edges disappeared from sight, the surface now a terrazzo floor with sparkling flecks of copper and silver blended into the polished stones.
When they finally broke into a clearing, Nathan blinked at the brighter light. The floor had become a vast circle of glittering gemstones, so wide he could barely see the rainbow mist that lapped against the outer edges. Curved walls bordered the circle, sloping up to an apex that arched high overhead. Thousands of glass squares covered the surface, creating a huge dome of polished crystal.
On three of the surrounding walls, separated by equal distances, an image of an enormous rotating Earth seemed to float on the transparent mosaic— one with thin red mist swirling all around, another with blue mist, and the third with yellow. The mist that poured in from the walkway crept along the base of the boundary wall, making a river all the way around. When the multicolored stream passed one of the earth images, the mist of that earth's color crawled upward on the wall and joined the foggy portrait, as if feeding the planet's misty veil.
A loud crack sounded from one of the earth images. Tsayad spun toward it. A jagged line crawled along the wall. It stretched from the earth veiled in red toward the one in blue and struck its surface with a sizzling splash. Mist followed the crack from each side — red from one and blue from the other — and met in the middle, mixing together and turning purple. The purple mist bled into the crooked trail back toward each earth and began to spread slowly over the surface of the planets.
Nathan scanned the rest of the wall. Other lines carved jagged paths between the earths, some arching over the ceiling to reach their targets. Orange, green, and purple mist traversed the crooked highways and created islands of blended colors that spread slowly across the respective Earths.
The guardian turned back to the trio, a stoic countenance dressing his face. He sang a few quick vowels toward the center of the circular floor, where, maybe a hundred feet away, a group of twelve people stood. Dressed in garb similar to his own, they huddled around a glass dome, the apex of which rose a foot or so higher than their heads.
Kelly whispered the translation. “Another breach. Widen it while it is fresh.”
The twelve joined hands and sang toward the dome, a tune that carried a sharp cadence and a blend of tones: male and female; tenors, basses, sopranos, and altos; lovely, yet harsh; hypnotic, yet troubling.
Kelly's grip deepened. “Nathan. That song creeps me out.”
He turned toward her. “What are they saying?”
“Awful things.” Kelly gave him a quick “Shh!” and nodded ahead.
When Nathan swung back around, Tsayad stood only a couple of feet away, reaching out a hand as he began a new song.
“Come and see,” Kelly translated. “You are at the threshold of the altar where you will soon take your station.”
The guardian strode toward the center of the room, now quickening his pace. Nathan glanced back at Kelly again. “Maybe you'd better stay here.”
She tightened her grip on his elbow. “Not on your life. I'm not leaving you for a minute.”
“Me neither,” Daryl said. “This place makes The Village look friendly.”
Nathan gave them a nod and followed Tsayad, closing the gap as they neared the strange gathering. When the guardian came within several paces of the group, he sang a short burst of vowels that sounded more like an “ahem” than words.
The group turned toward them. The seven men and five women, all with short white hair, flashed eerie smiles that gave Nathan a new shiver. Three of them shifted to the right, leaving a gap that provided a view of the glass dome. As they parted, they revealed the rest of the chamber's central area. Two other domes abutted this one, making a triangle of domes, each one with white-haired people gazing into it.
Nathan took a step toward the closest dome. Resembling the top half of a transparent sphere, the glass edges had been anchored to the floor with foot-long clasps and fist-sized bolts. Within the dim interior, a girl no more than fifteen years old sat at the center, shivering. With her head tucked between her knees, she pulled at the hem of her simple cloth skirt, trying unsuccessfully to cover her legs.
Kelly gasped. “Oh, Nathan!”
His heart pounding, Nathan crept closer. The girl looked so pitiful … so frightened. Why would she be in there?
Suddenly, the girl swiped at her shoulder, as if swatting a bug away. Her face stretched by terror, she slid on her bottom toward the outer wall, pumping her legs furiously. When she reached the glass, she pressed a hand against her chest, panting and swinging her head back and forth as if searching for something on the floor.
&
nbsp; “Could she be having a nightmare?” Nathan asked Kelly. “I don't see anything in there with her.”
Then, closing her eyes, the girl raised her head and moved her lips, apparently in song, but as Nathan leaned toward her to listen, the men and women raised their hands and sang a warbling phrase that drowned out her voice.
Their song jolted Nathan's senses. This was nothing like the heavenly aria he had heard when he first arrived. It was an operatic train wreck. Every note clashed with the others, as if battling to see which one could most effectively sabotage the choir. Still, it seemed that the individual singers hit each note perfectly, as though twelve master artists had chosen to paint a different portrait on the same canvas.
As the singing continued, clouds of black mist rose to the top of the room and disappeared into a purplish haze above, as if there were a chimney drawing out and dispersing this solidified music.
A cracking sound returned. The purple breach stretching from the red planet to the blue widened, slowly, yet noticeably.
As the song continued, the girl inside the dome shook. Still singing, she wrapped her arms around herself, but she seemed unable to quell her shivers.
Nathan rushed to the dome and laid his palms on the glass. “She's terrified! Let her out of there!” He swung toward the other domes. They also enclosed human figures, but the interiors were too dim to discern any details.
Turning back, he gazed at the forlorn girl behind the crystal wall. Her features were all too clear — tear-streaked face, frazzled braids of red hair, and wringing hands. Her terror shook him to the bone. Suddenly, she looked straight at him. With her eyes wide again, she mouthed two silent words. Help me.
A firm tug on his sweatshirt sent Nathan flying backwards. Holding his violin aloft, he fell on his side and slid at least twenty yards across the polished floor. He jumped to his feet and whirled back toward the dome. Tsayad scowled at him and sang a string of vowel sounds that resembled a strident scolding.
Kelly ran to Nathan's side. “He says it is forbidden to aid the supplicants. You will soon learn the rules that govern this sacred temple.”
As Daryl slowly backed toward them, she stretched out her words. “I think we should be going now.”
Nathan searched for an escape route. Two white-haired men guarded the sides of the narrow doorway they had entered.
Tsayad walked slowly toward them, extending his hand, his song now gentle and coaxing.
Kelly pressed close to Nathan. “He says, ‘Your fear is most exhilarating. You will make fine supplicants. Come and we will prepare you for your office.’”
Nathan swung the violin up and played a frenzied series of dissonant notes. When he stopped, the guardian's scowl returned, only deeper … perplexed.
Leaning next to his ear, Kelly whispered, “Uh-oh!”
“What?” Nathan asked. “What did I say?”
Daryl hugged the violin case close to her chest. “I think you cursed in the language of the lyrically limited.”
Kelly pulled Nathan backwards. “You told him to release the supplicants or else.”
“Or else, what?”
“You didn't say.”
Tsayad stalked toward him. As he stretched out his arms, his eyes seemed to burst into flames.
Nathan raised his violin, ready to swing. “Let's see if he understands this composition!”
A loud, shrieking note pierced the air. Tsayad halted and pivoted toward the source. From the gathering around the dome, a white-haired woman rushed their way, shouting in a melodic trill.
Kelly translated. “Allow me to dispose of these dissemblers. They cannot be true supplicants.”
The woman pulled down the neckline of Nathan's sweatshirt, exposing his chest. She sang two quick notes.
“You see?” Kelly echoed.
The woman released Nathan and scowled. As she sang a mocking phrase, she seemed to laugh.
Kelly shuddered. “The grinding stone is too good for them.”
Tsayad's eyes lit up again. “The abyss?” Kelly said, giving words to his musical response.
The woman replied with a single low note. Kelly didn't bother to translate. Apparently the abyss would be their next stop.
“Take this,” Nathan said, pushing the violin into Kelly's hands. “You and Daryl get ready to run.”
The woman snapped her fingers. The two men at the door marched toward them, each one brandishing a transparent rod, like a policeman's nightstick made out of glass.
“Go!” Nathan rushed toward the guards. He dropped low and swept his leg under one of the men, toppling him to the ground. The other guard lunged, his glass rod now pulsing with light. A shrill noise spewed from his weapon, so high-pitched Nathan had to cover his ears to keep his brain from exploding.
With a quick roll, he dodged the guard, but just as he tried to jump to his feet, a burning pain stabbed his back. His limbs stiffened. His teeth clenched. A bone-rattling jolt surged up and down his spine and shot out to his fingers and toes. He tried to gasp for breath, but his lungs felt like stones.
Darkness seeped across his vision, streams of black bleeding through a scene of Kelly and Daryl being led toward him by the white-haired woman. Finally, everything went black. He could still sense his surroundings— smells, pressure on his skin, and sounds— but a harsh ringing in his ears made the garbled notes of the jabbering guardians sound far away.
Strong arms lifted him into the air. Finally able to breathe without pain, he floated comfortably. The familiar feeling of approaching sleep crept in. He tried to shake it away. He had to get down! He had to escape with Kelly and Daryl! But his limbs wouldn't obey. They hung limply, unable to move.
The encroaching sleep flooded his senses. Yet, it seemed to last for only a few seconds. Something prodded his shoulder.
“Wake up, Nathan.”
He blinked until his eyes opened fully. His vision had returned, still dim, but clear enough. Sitting next to him, the girl in the dome smoothed her skirt of crimson cloth over her crossed legs. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
Still lying on his back, Nathan arched and stretched out his arms before propping himself on his elbows to look at her. Wide and worn by tears, her eyes reflected a weariness that cried out for relief. Yet, the furrows etching her brow spelled out a deep compassion that overwhelmed her sorrows.
“No,” he replied. “I think I'm okay.” He looked around at the dome. The inner glass reflected their bodies, shielding their view of the outside world.
“You are okay now, my beloved.” She laid a hand on his arm. Her face, though as youthful as her petite body, radiated wisdom far beyond her years. “But if you do not awaken soon, you will not be okay. Your rescuer will need your aid.”
“Awaken? What do you mean?”
“You are dreaming, and you need to arouse yourself so that you may help your friends.”
He sat up and blinked again. “Dreaming? But this is so real.”
With thin fingers, she twirled a button at the front of her dress, a tiny white button that fastened a high neckline. “I am real, and this prison is real, but you are not really here. I saw what they did to you. Since we made eye contact, I was able to enter your dream as soon as you lost consciousness.”
Nathan glanced at the mirrored walls. “How could you see me?”
“I am Scarlet. I see many things.” She looked up at the low ceiling. “Behold, the tragedy of lost lives.”
In the curved mirror above, an airliner flying at a ninety-degree angle dropped slowly from the sky. The tip of its wing scraped the ground, sending it into a cartwheel tumble. Finally, it flipped, smashed into a field, and exploded in a huge fireball.
As memory of the searing heat raised prickles along his skin, Nathan shuddered. “I was on that plane … at least for a while. I got off just in time.”
She folded her hands and sighed. “I know. I helped you get off.”
“You helped me? How?”
“You have asked for my help many time
s, and I, in turn, take your supplications to your ultimate helper. My songs are the prayers you were unable to utter. The answers came in many ways — a gunman arrested on a bridge; your body shifted to another world just before a bullet pierced your chest while your clothes miraculously changed into a hunter's raiment; you and your friends transported out of a falling car while at another time the entire car went with you; and any number of escapes in the midst of chases, unknown paths, and even violent winds. Such are the miracles of answered supplications.”
“But how does it work? How can you know what's going on all the time?”
She slid closer to him and gazed into his eyes. “It is not wise to waste precious moments explaining the complexities of my ministration while you are dreaming. Soon after you awaken, you will not remember the details, only images … images of me, my habitat, my sorrow. Just remember that you must come back and rescue us, the three seers in the domes. Since you are an Earth Red dweller, you have only a little time. Interfinity is coming, and the fools here have no idea that it will destroy them along with the three Earths.”
She took his hand and caressed his knuckles. “Yet, there is still hope. You, my love, are one of the gifted, and another is searching for you in her dreams. Perhaps we can guide her to a convenient place to meet you. If it is possible to heal the wounds through music rather than through sacrifice, the two of you will have to work together and play the violin in Sarah's Womb. On this possibility rests the future of all the supplicants.”
“Patar mentioned Sarah's Womb. What—”
She pressed a finger against his lips. “No, Nathan. Save your questions.” As she withdrew her finger, her whispered voice took on a sense of urgency. “Arouse yourself now, or you will perish, and the hope of the Earth triad will perish with you. One truth you must remember as you make this journey — the stalkers feed on fear and the dissonance fear creates. If you run from the shadows that haunt your mind, all will be lost.”
“But how will I remember all these things? Like you said, dreams just kind of fade away.”