Across the Universe (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

              The hall that stretches out before us is straight and narrow and endless. The walls, floor, and ceiling are made of hematite, so polished that my reflection glints off every surface. In the distance the path tapers off into shadows.

              Alabaster doors line the corridor in uniform rows, but as soon as I focus on one they shift places, whirring off the walls and reordering themselves in a blur of pale color. There are thousands of them; they stretch on as far as the hall does, receding into the darkness at the edge of my vision. The multicolored lights that originally streamed out from under the entrance haunt the edge of my vision, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

              Noah stares openmouthed as the doors maneuver out of place again, the breeze they kick up rustling his hair. “One of these must lead to the power source,” he says.

              “We’ll never find it like this—not if everything keeps moving and shifting,” I reply.

              “We’ll just have to pick one as it comes and hope for the best.”

              I turn back to the open door behind us. It acts as a window into the marble halls of The House. Across the threshold is the Archives Room, but the sight of it is blurry, as if it’s a fading memory exiled to the back of my mind.

              Just as I reach for the handle the door across the hall opens and Elli emerges. From within the Hall of Beginnings it looks as if the edges of her figure are hazy and distorted, like the color of her skin is trying to blend into the walls. Her expression, however, is sharp and murderous. We lock eyes for a moment and time seems to stop. Then she lunges.

              I slam the door closed but the act is too little too late. Elli is already across the hall, her hand slipped between the door and the frame. The wood slams down hard on her knuckles and her piercing wail echoes out, the sound muffled by the energy that hums within the Hall of Beginnings. Elli leverages her weight against me, pressing her body into the door. The hinges creak as she pushes me back one inch, two inches, four inches. She is stronger than I am and she knows it; I can’t hold onto my footing forever.

              Noah joins me in my efforts but there’s little he can do. Elli’s already got half her body through the crack in the door. With one final push she squeezes past the opening and then she’s in focus again, grabbing at me with clawed fingers.

              I duck out of her grasp, take Noah’s hand, and run into the depths of the hall. Doors whir around us as we go, snapping back into place for only a few seconds before lifting off the walls and rearranging themselves again. Elli’s footsteps echo out as she closes in behind us. She holds her silver dagger in one hand, brandishing it with the sharp edge pointed in my direction. Any minute now she’ll close the gap between us and sink the knife into my back.

              The doors click into place again and I take the opening to dodge to my left and turn one of the knobs. Without hesitating I drag Noah in after me and slam the door shut behind us just as the threshold begins to whir again.

              Silence greets us, but not the type found in the void. This quiet is peaceful and reassuring, lulling me into a false sense of security. The room around us is pure white and shimmering. Though I can feel my feet on the ground, I can’t tell where the floor meets the walls, or if there are even boundaries to this place at all. The door we entered through hangs suspended behind us, its frame a starkly sharp outline against the white illumination that surrounds it.

              “Do you think Elli will follow us in?” Noah asks.

              “She can’t. The door’s already moved. She’ll never find it,” I reply.

              Noah looks around, stunned by the blinding white that fills the space. “Where are we?”

              I open my mouth to answer but am distracted by a pinprick of color forming in midair. I make my way over to it, extending an arm in its direction but stopping short of touching it. The pale dot grows bigger now, sprouting spirals of color that shoot outward to form the blurry contour of arms and legs. A figure floats before me now, huddled in a fetal position as tendrils of color shape and form its features.

              “This room is where House members come into being,” I say, understanding now. “It’s the opposite of the void.”

              The rays of color grow larger, shooting out in every direction. One collides with my forearm and I feel a sharp, burning pain there. I stumble back into Noah, trying to avoid the energy that crackles and spirals around the growing being suspended in the center of the room.

              “We’re not meant to be in here,” Noah says. “It’s for beginnings, not middles. The force will kill us if we stay.”

              “How do you know that?” I ask, dodging another beam of light before it lashes me in the face.

              “I don’t know. I can just feel it—kind of like how I felt my way through the lock before.”

              I concentrate hard and realize I can sense what Noah feels, too. Backing up to the door while keeping my eyes on the tendrils of color, I fumble for the doorknob. “We’ll have to take our chances in the hall,” I say.

              My palm wraps around the handle and the door swings open. We tumble backward into the hall and before I can even look back the door is moving again, whirring down the corridor and out of sight.

              I look up and down the passageway, but Elli is gone. “She must’ve gone in another door to try and search for us,” I guess.

              “Or to search for the power source,” Noah replies.

              “Then we should do the same. We’ll just have to pick doors until we come across the right one.”

              “What if we run into something dangerous, like where we just were?”

              I shrug. “That’s a chance we have to take.”

              The doors settle back into rows and before I can change my mind I wrench one open, leading Noah inside. The door closes behind us as we appraise the chamber we’ve entered into.

              This room is more like the main hall. It’s made of polished hematite and illuminated by lights shining through cracks in the ceiling. The glow casts eerie patterns across the floor. Lined up in rows that go on forever are clear tanks of varying sizes, each one filled with a hazy liquid. I walk over to one, press my hands against the front, and jump back in horror as an arm thuds against the glass on the other side.

              The water stirs and from out of the murkiness a life form emerges. It has blue skin and wildly wagging appendages. I recognize it immediately as the same race I met when I entered Oman’s dying universe.

              “Amara! Come look over here!” Noah exclaims.

              I walk over to the row of tanks opposite me and gasp. Each one contains a figure floating in the hazy liquid within. Some of them look vaguely human, while others are monstrous and misshapen.

              “Beginnings,” I mutter, the purpose of the hall dawning on me. “These are all the beginnings. The first life forms of their kind. One from each universe.”

              “Do you think they feel anything?” Noah asks, his expression twisted with disgust.

              “I don’t know. I like to believe The House isn’t that cruel.”

              A thump comes from within one of the tanks, startling Noah. He stumbles back into the row behind him, his shoulders colliding with the glass and tipping the stand over. The tank crashes to the floor, shattering into a million pieces and sending a wave of lukewarm water sloshing over our feet.

              The life form that was once inside flops onto the ground, its tentacles fighting for traction. The thing is three times my size with semi-transparent skin and eyelids that close sideways as it blinks. Spotting us, it bares a set of shark teeth and runs its barbed tongue across its slimy lips.

              The life form splashes toward us and Noah and I dart out of the way right before it slams a tentacle down so hard that the floor cracks. Without saying a word, Noah knows what to do. We take off running, weaving up and down rows of tanks as the monstrous being behind us follows in our wake. Reaching the door, Noah swings it open and pushes me across the threshold.

              We fall out mid-whir as the door rockets down the hall, our momentum sending us sliding across the floor until our backs connect with the opposite wall. I moan and roll onto my side, trying to regain control over my lungs. Noah helps me to my feet and together we limp into the center of the space.

              “What now?” he asks.

              “We’ve got to keep trying,” I say, though I’m more than frustrated with the journey thus far. I wait for the doors to stop moving again and yank on one of the handles, crossing into the room before Noah can protest.

              The chamber is a throne room, with a jagged chair carved from alabaster resting on a raised platform in the middle. On it sits an impossibly old woman. She has the same traits as any other member of The House—platinum blonde hair, silver eyes, pale skin—but she is wrinkled and marked with liver spots. She wears flowing robes of white and her chin rests on her chest as she sleeps. When we walk in she stirs, opening her eyes and looking thoroughly surprised.

              “You shouldn’t be here,” she says.

              “And you should be?” I ask, irritation thick in my tone.

              The woman squares her shoulders. “I’m the first Seer of The House. My prophecies outlast all others. I’m hidden in the Hall of Beginnings for my own safety.”

              My eyes go wide with surprise. “You’re the one that foretold Noah and me being connected. You saw the downfall of The House.”

              She blinks out at me, recognition slowly overtaking her face. “Ah, yes. I suppose it is that time, already—for the end of The House to come.”

              “Please,” I beg, dropping to my knees in front of the throne. “Isn’t there a way to stop all this? To rebuild The House after all that Elli’s done?”

              “The prophecy is set in stone. No matter if you win or lose against the traitor, The House must succumb to a terrible fate.”

              “And what about the universes we watch over? If The House falls, what will happen to them?”

              The Seer smiles faintly. “Not even the void can swallow those. Even if The House disappears, the universes will live on. The only difference is that they’ll be on their own. Perhaps that’s how it should be, too. If we had left it to fate instead of prophecies and Watchers, we might not be in the predicament we’re in now.”

              “But The House can’t disappear. Even now, there are new members coming into being. I witnessed that myself.”

              “That’s not how it works. Part of how The House survives is because we exist. There have been too many deaths and not enough time to rebalance things. It can never be put back the way it was.”

              “Then why am I here?” I shout, anger boiling up my throat. “Why’d you even bother with your stupid prophecy?”

              “Because sometimes there is no happy ending. There are just choices, and one is less horrible than the other, and you must decide whether you have the courage to fight for the better outcome.”

              I collapse in front of her, cradling my head in my hands. “As long as Elli’s alive she’ll fight for the mystical power source, even if we hide it. And even if she dies, there will always be another. Someone looking for control over The House now that things are unbalanced.”

              The smile slides off the Seer’s face. She extends a hand to me and helps me to my feet. We lock gazes, and her next words chill me to the bone. “Then it is time for The House to end and for the universes to take care of themselves. The mystical power must be cast into the void. This is the only way to ensure it can never be used for evil.”

              I step away from the throne. The silver of her eyes tells me what she doesn’t need to say. I know what I have to do now, and as I back up to the door, I nod in understanding.

              “C’mon, Noah. We have to go. She can’t help us anymore,” I say.

              As I turn the knob, the Seer addresses me one last time. “Look for the door that glows. It’ll be different from all the rest. That’s the one you’re looking for.”

              “Thank you,” I say, and then I pull Noah back into the hall, leaving the Seer behind as the door shifts away and reorders itself.

              I lead Noah down the hall in search of a sign—any sign—that a door might be the one we’re looking for. Finally we find it. Colored beams of light filter out from all sides, shooting out from under the door and between the hinges so that the floor reflects a brilliant array of patterns across the corridor. I take a deep breath and reach out for the handle, but Noah stills me by placing his palm over my knuckles.

              “Do you get what the Seer meant? She seemed to be trying to tell you something—something that she wouldn’t say outright,” he says.

              I hesitate, then nod. “It’s not important now.”

              Then I open the door and walk into the light. It’s the same light that leads me closer to my fate and farther away from the boy that I love. Though it wasn’t clear to me before, I understand perfectly now. What the Seer intended with her words is obvious.