The Fatal Tree (28 page)

T
he blazing fire in Kit’s eyes was matched only by the howling squeal in his ears.Whether he was dead or alive he could not say; the former appeared by far the more likely because he seemed to float suspended in a timeless nowhere. Eternity? There was no physical discomfort, only the raging whine in his ears and the formless white that obscured all vision – the after-effects of the explosion that had killed him.

The explosion! Yes, there had been a blast of some kind. He remembered that now. As more of his shattered consciousness returned, he sensed also that the light that washed out all sight was beginning to fade. Slowly, slowly, the all-pervading brightness gathered itself into a sphere that shrank and shrank until it eventually blinked out, leaving him in darkness soft and close. But just before the light went out, Kit felt a change in his state of buoyant equilibrium: a slow-revolving fall combined with the odd weightless sensation he generally experienced when making a ley leap. There was movement and direction, and suddenly it seemed that he was speeding through a void, a black zone, a region without form or feature.

As he sped along, the velvet envelope of darkness that enclosed him began to thin and wear away. He perceived tiny flecks of light glinting through its fabric like fireflies flickering in the night. These first scattered specks were gradually joined by more and more until Kit was flying headlong through a spray of luminous effervescence, massed arrays of glowing particles coursing through the void in onrushing waves. Photons flashed around him and through him, blending into streaming rays that carried a sound like that of surf washing a distant shore. On and on he sped, the particle streams thickening into currents, blending, braiding, joining one another to become many-branched rivers. These shimmering plaits coagulated, steadily congealing into what looked like islands of light amidst an ocean of endless night.

Attracted by an invisible force, these isolated beacons drifted together, slowly merging and melding into one another, knitting together to form whole continents. As Kit raced on and ever on, one of the nearer landforms of light contracted, compacting into a dense glowing mass that erupted in a blinding flash. When Kit could see again, he saw a band of silver radiance seeded with the swirling spiral disc of a newborn galaxy.

All across the limitless void, Kit witnessed the same pattern: islands of light coalesced, contracted, and flared into life, illuminating the darkest reaches of never-ending night. Soon, even the emptiest regions of space were alight and shining with the brightness of ten thousand suns, each glittering island a separate galaxy spinning with graceful, measured elegance – each and every one a bright empire containing realms and worlds beyond number.

Kit gazed upon the spangled deep and glimpsed part of the answer: each and every world was a subtle variation on the original, created as a way for the universe to work out the myriad possibilities of the decisions made by the innumerable souls inhabiting those realms. These bright empires would continue to bloom into being until every variable, every permutation, every possibility of existence had been explored, every expression articulated, every potential achieved. Then, and only then, would the Omega Point arrive – that great and glorious celebration of eternal existence – to transform the universe into the paradise promised and purposed from the beginning of time.

Dazed by the gleaming array spreading before him, Kit plunged dizzily through it, drinking in the sight, revelling in it, breathing deeply of the prodigious creative energy suffusing all he saw. And still it came, expanding in ever-widening rings with no end in sight. Engulfed, immersed, Kit perceived all of creation spread out before him and knew that he was intimately connected to it, forever entangled. As he gazed upon this firmament of infinite space, he sensed the restless vitality that permeated the Omniverse. More than mere energy, more than a force, this creative dynamism of the cosmos was in all and through all, but also beyond all – not only sustaining and supporting everything it touched, but also nourishing and gently guiding it toward its endowed potential.

Strangest of all, however, Kit felt that this vast, formless power
knew
him, accepted him, and cherished him. It also possessed an individual character, and that character expressed itself as a will with desires and rational faculties not unlike his own, but of a magnitude far beyond his abilities of comprehension, ceaselessly working to bring about its purposes and designs.

Streaking like a comet through this living presence, Kit was stunned into inarticulate awe; the magnificence overpowered comprehension. He could not take it all in, much less understand or make sense of more than the merest fraction of the whole. His only thought was that he was being allowed a fleeting look into the heart of a mystery greater than life itself.

Bewildered, numb with wonder, Kit reached the point of exhaustion. Unable to take in any more, he closed his eyes on the dazzling spectacle, seeking refuge in the darkness behind his eyes. But escape was denied him; even with his eyes closed, he could still see the vision of creation burned into his brain. Sometime later – a day, a year, a few seconds only? – Kit sensed that his flight was slowing. The end came with the suddenness of a drop from a high ladder. He fell to earth.

Head throbbing, ears plugged, aching in every limb and joint, he lay on his side and assessed his state. Aside from the shock, he seemed to be uninjured. He opened his eyes; he was lying on the ground. Thin, watery light filtered down upon him through cracks in a roof fashioned from the skeletal remnants of many animals. His first coherent thought was:
Bone House
.

Raising his head, he looked around. He was alone. Where were the others? Had they survived?

He rolled over, pushed himself up on hands and knees, and crawled to the entrance of the structure. The day outside was sunny and cold. Fresh snow lay undisturbed all around, glistening beneath a sky so brilliant it stung his eyes. He drew a deep breath and tasted the cold tang of the air, like electricity on the tongue. He rose and was just getting his feet under him when he heard voices. The first one said something he could not make out, but a second voice answered, “I’ll check inside…”

Kit started around the side of the Bone House; he managed two steps before his legs went slack and he fell with a grunt facefirst into the snow. A moment later a shadow passed over him. He wiped snow from his face and looked up to see Wilhelmina peering down at him. “Kit, you okay?”

She called to someone he could not see. “Found him! He’s back!”

He pulled himself upright, stood, and turned – coming face-toface with Cass. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him until it hurt. “What a relief! We didn’t know where you were.”

“We? Who else is here?”

“Everybody. I mean, Gianni, Burleigh, Mina, me. We all made it back.”

“Any doppelgängers?”

She shook her head. “Just us.”

Kit regarded her closely, trying to discern whether her return matched his own experience. He hoped it did, because he knew he would never be able to describe, much less explain, all that he had witnessed.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Kit smiled. “Never better. We can talk about it later.” He scanned the area. “So where are they?”

“Just over here.” She looped an arm through his and led him around to the other side of the Bone House, where Wilhelmina was standing over Gianni, who was crouching beside Burleigh, who was sitting on the ground. “He’s a bit distraught,” confided Cass.

“…according to His will,” Gianni was saying as they came up. “I can only think that this has been His purpose all along,
capito
?” He glanced up as Kit and Cass joined them. “Kit!” he exclaimed. “Thank God you have returned safely.”

Burleigh raised his eyes, nodded glumly, and then lowered his head once more. “You do not understand,” he muttered sadly. “It was my one hope of redemption. Can you not see that? I could have been a better man.”

“But you
are
a better man,” countered Gianni.

“No… no, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Gianni assured him. “Not as good as you will be, perhaps, but better than you were.”

As Kit looked on, he found himself unexpectedly moved by this tender display. Burleigh did appear to be genuinely distressed by his failure to effect a change for himself at the Spirit Well. Perhaps he had been telling the truth about wanting redemption.

“It is so hard,” moaned Burleigh, putting his head in his hands. His shoulders began to shake. His next words came out as a sob. “It is so very, very
hard
.”

Gianni sighed. “It has ever been thus. The way is hard and narrow, it is true. But it is a path beaten smooth by the countless others who have gone before us. And good news! We do not have to walk it alone. God Himself is with us and has blessed us with friends for the journey.”

“Friends!” Burleigh’s head jerked up, a sneer on his face. “
You
have friends, maybe. I have none.”

“We can work on that,” said Gianni, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We can work on that together, you and I.”

Burleigh sniffed and brushed the tears away with the heels of his hands. “Blubbing like a baby,” he murmured. “What has happened to me?”

“Maybe you
are
changing,” Kit said. Burleigh glanced up at him and then, embarrassed, looked away.

Leaving the two of them to talk, Kit led Cass and Mina aside. “It isn’t just Burleigh that’s changed,” he told them.

“What do you mean?” asked Wilhelmina.

“What do I mean?” said Kit. His smile grew wide and he burst out laughing. “We did it! That’s what I mean. Think about it – we kept Arthur out of the pool. We prevented him from using the Spirit Well to change things for himself and destroying all creation in the process.”

“I guess so,” Cass agreed. “And you stopped that one” – she gave a nod toward Burleigh – “from doing the same.”

Mina squinted her eyes and cocked her head to one side. “Disaster averted? Everything back to normal?”

“Well,” Kit replied, “I see only one of you – I take that as a good sign. Although I’d love to talk to Tony and Brendan and see what they have to say.”

Wilhelmina shivered and rubbed her injured arm. “Why don’t we move this reunion somewhere warmer? If we stand around here much longer we’re going to freeze.”

“We should be going,” agreed Kit. “With any luck we can get down to the Big Valley Ley before it wakes up.”

“Too bad,” said Cass. “I’d like to come back, maybe see if we can find your River City friends and stay awhile.”

“It could be arranged,” replied Kit. “You’d enjoy that?”

“Like you need to ask,” she replied. “You know I would.”

“Well, I just want to get home,” said Wilhelmina, “and see what Etzel is cooking.” She turned and hurried away. “I’ll fetch Gianni and Burleigh. You two get going. We’ll catch up.”

The travellers threaded their way through the forest to what, in other seasons, was a wide, grassy plain. The snow was a little deeper here, so the going was slower and more taxing, but they were warmed by the exertion as they went. They walked easily in one another’s company, content with their own thoughts and the knowledge that whatever the future brought, it would include the love and companionship of what Gianni had called friends for the journey.

The sun was fading into a white haze in the west as they reached the rim of the Big Valley gorge and started down the cliffside track. The path was only lightly dusted with snow, and it squelched under their feet. Their breath hung in misty clouds. Blue shadows deepened in the valley. A few paces from the start of the ley, Kit put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the sole remaining Shadow Lamp. The little turquoise lights were all aglow.

“It looks like we’re just in time,” observed Cass, tapping the pewter carapace.

“You know there’s no such thing as coincidence,” Kit replied lightly. “Right?”

“Yeah, right,” said Cass. “Let’s go home.”

Epilogue

I
f anyone had told Lady Fayth that she would find fulfilment in playing governess to two young princesses, she assuredly would have chided that person for being a witless bletherskite and laughed in his face. Much to her surprise, then, as the days slipped by, slowly passing into weeks to be succeeded by months, she awoke one morning to the realisation that, in fact, she was very happy with her role in the royal household. Her chores were neither onerous nor overly taxing, and her responsibilities matched her innate sense of status; to be accounted a member of the imperial household, she discovered, was no small thing. As if anything more was required to make the position perfect, the two little girls were a constant delight.

Princess Anna and Princess Eudokia considered their mistress a beautiful, exotic creature who in their young eyes could do no earthly wrong. After their initial shyness had passed, the two girls pestered Haven for stories of her travels and life in other places, and insisted on her being included in every family outing and royal event that they themselves were expected to attend – anywhere the family was accustomed to appear, whether in public or private. Under Haven’s watchful eye, the imperial palace precinct became the children’s playground, and there was not a corner or courtyard that did not at one time or another chime with their laughter or clatter with the musical instruments Haven improvised for their mock processions.

Against all odds and every expectation, Haven found her true calling, and for the first time anywhere – or
anywhen
– discovered herself contented. The emperor too was more than satisfied with his decision to employ her as child minder to his daughters. Indeed, he was so impressed with his latest addition to his staff that he conferred on her the title of Procuratrix. Thus, the presence of the pale foreigner soon came to be taken for granted and, as part of the royal household, she was no longer to be remarked upon.

As for Giles, when Emperor Leo learned that the young man was accustomed to the care and feeding of horses, he put his newly acquired servant to work in the royal stables. A lowly job, but Giles not only showed a flair for grooming the beasts, he demonstrated a ready knowledge of breeding practices unknown to the Byzantines. He also showed he knew a thing or two about training horses, and displayed such skill in their handling that he was promoted to looking after the emperor’s personal riding stock. In his new position as assistant chief stable master, Giles was offered the opportunity to teach young Prince Constantine to ride – a circumstance that brought him into regular contact with not only the upper echelon of the emperor’s staff but also the emperor himself. In Leo he found a man of keen intelligence, refinement, and integrity – a man worthy of his service.

Emperor Leo possessed an outsized sense of occasion – a minor fault, expressing itself in the propensity to imbue even the most trivial happenstances of life with an import far exceeding any useful consideration. He took everything far too seriously. To all appearances, Leo lacked a sense of humour. Thus, upon the rare occasions when something Giles said or did made the emperor smile, Giles was reminded of the heavy weight of nobility and went away feeling as if he had done a good day’s work. The day Giles invited Leo into the riding ring to hold the halter rope and call the commands himself, the look of rapture on the emperor’s face as he put a young stallion through its paces gave Giles to know that he had secured a patron for life.

As pleasant as their positions in the royal household might have been, it did not prevent the ley travellers from wondering what Providence had in store for them a little farther down the road. On the one hand, they enjoyed a very sheltered, even privileged, position from which to contemplate their next steps. On the other hand, they had no idea what those next steps might be, much less how to take them or where they might lead.

“Are we ever going to get away, go home?” asked Haven one night when, as was their custom, they withdrew to their private apartment after their official duties were finished for the day.

“Are we ever going to get away from here?” echoed Giles. It was not the first time she had asked that question; indeed, in various forms it regularly surfaced as an item of conversation when they were alone. But this night was different somehow; it struck Giles that he already knew the answer – in fact, had known it for some time. “I fear not,” he said gently. “I think we must face the fact that we are not going to leave Constantinople.”

Haven glanced up sharply. His bluntness took her aback. She had merely been thinking aloud and not really expecting an answer. “You are harsh tonight, Mr. Standfast. I scarce know what has come over you to speak so.”

“I do not speak from harshness – only from conviction. I believe I see clearly tonight the folly of clinging to false hope.”

“Our hope is anything but false, sir. You ought to know that as well as anyone. We have Sir Henry’s green book to use as a guide.

We have but to – ” She stopped, halted by the slow, steady shake of Giles’ head. “Why do you wag your head so?”

“Haven, think. We have the green book, yes – but if it contained any information or instruction useful to us in our present situation, would we not have made use of it long ago?

We have had ample opportunity to employ that book, but the truth is that there resides within its pages neither implement nor information to lead us from here to any better place.” He moved a few steps nearer. “We have come to the end of the road. For us, the quest for the Skin Map is over.”

Haven stiffened her back as if to resist the remorseless tide flow of his logic, all the while knowing in her heart that he was right.

To flee, to escape, to leave would present problems so difficult as to be insoluble – not the least of which was the fact that they did not have the slightest idea where they might find a nearby ley line, nor, having found it, could they guess where it might lead. In all the time they had been in Constantinople, they had never felt so much as a quiver of ley energy anywhere inside the city or out.

Yet, supposing that they did somehow discover a ley line to take them away… what then? Wherever they landed, they would still be quite as lost as they were now, but without any of the benefits Providence had so graciously provided them in this time and place. “Are we ever going home?” Giles continued, taking up the question anew. He moved to stand directly before her. “My lady, I am thinking we are already home.”

Haven searched his clear dark eyes and saw the light of conviction. “I do not say you are wrong,” she replied a little hesitantly. “Only, it would be some consolation to let our friends and relations know what has become of us.”

“Yes, there would be comfort in that,” allowed Giles. “Though if it meant leaving all this behind, I would count it but cold comfort.

In truth, dear lady, I feel as if we are meant to be here. Might we find a better place? Perhaps. Yet there is a rightness in our position here that I feel to the soles of my feet when I walk the streets or stand in the training ring. In this place, I am more than groom and footman. And you – I have seen the way you shine when you have come from a day spent schooling those little girls. Begging your pardon, I mean no offence by it, but I believe it is in the way of making you a better person than the one I knew before.” Haven dropped her head. “I take no offence. It is true. I do so love my situation – such that I cannot now imagine parting without also imagining the pain and guilt leaving my little ones would bring in train. I do believe it would make of me a most wretched creature.”

“Then let us speak no more of leaving a world and life that has become dear to us, and that I truly believe has been provided for our benefit,” Giles said firmly. He placed his hands on her shoulders as if to steady her. “Think you now – is there anything back there that we do not have here?” He paused a moment to allow her to consider. “I say not. Let us henceforth declare that the past is indeed past, and our only future is here and what we make of it.”

Haven remained silent for a moment, then nodded. “Very well,” she agreed at last, her voice falling. “I do believe you are right – my heart tells me you speak the truth. But it is a bitter truth and goes down right hard.” She sniffed, holding back the tears that started to her eyes.

Giles felt a shudder pass through her slender frame. He pulled her closer. “Perhaps,” he suggested lightly, “I may offer a bit of sweetness?” He put a finger to her chin and raised her face to his.

“My lady, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Before she could reply, he added, “Marry me, Haven Fayth, and let us make a life here together come what may.”

She smiled sadly. “Are you very certain, Mr. Standfast, that you want a wife at all? I have seen the way the ladies of the household and court gaze upon your manly form when they think no one is looking. You could have your pick of any one of them.”

“Dearest Haven, I made my choice long ago. I chose you, and it is you I come home to every night. It chafes me sore to live with you as a brother or cousin, when it is a husband I would be.” He held her in his steady gaze. “I ask you again, will you marry me?”

“I will, Giles,” she answered, and felt an unexpected relief well up inside her; it took the form of a sudden, irrepressible giddiness.

“Yes! I will marry you, my darling man. You are and have ever been my heart’s true friend. And I shall be yours – you will see. I shall be the wife you deserve.”

Giles kissed her then, quickly, lest she change her mind. When she made no resistance, he kissed her again, longer this time, and more sweetly, then gathered her into his embrace.

They stood holding one another for a time, and then Haven suddenly reared back in his arms. “But, oh! How can this be?” she said. “The emperor and his court think we are married already. To go before them now with this would be an embarrassment to them and, worse, would likely bring condemnation down on our heads for the regrettable lie we have been living. I fear the punishment would be most severe and long regretted.”

“To be sure,” agreed Giles. “Still, I would not have urged this course if I did not also consider the consequence. Yet there is hope.

I think I have a way to proceed so that no one at court need ever know.” He took her hand and led her to the low divan beside the table where they dined. “We will go to one of the little churches outside the palace district and have the proper ceremony performed there in secret. There is one such church a short distance from the Forum of Theodosius, and it is named for Saint George. It is small and much neglected. The priest there is old and half blind, but he is a kindly soul and most understanding.”

“He will marry us? You have spoken to him?”

Giles nodded. “He will – and for a small donation to help fix the roof of his church, he will not only conduct the ceremony, he will provide the wedding feast.”

Haven gripped his hands and squeezed. “Then let us do it soon, my love, and end this gross deception with a grand flourish of honesty, propriety, and loyalty.” She kissed him again. “Let us be married as soon as possible.”

A week or so later, the opportunity arose when the royal family sailed to their summer lodge at Prínkēpos, an island in the Marmara just off the southern coast of the city. Giles was not needed, and Haven was to follow six days later with a few other courtiers.

Thus, they had time to themselves, and wasted not a moment.

Giles dashed ahead to alert the priest and then hurried back to meet Haven on the way.

The day was warm and bright, and Haven dressed in a white silk gown the empress had recently given her, complaining that it did not fit her as well as she had hoped. She had braided her hair with tiny wild daisies and myrtle, and looked every inch the bride Giles had hoped one day to wed. He met her at the entrance to the forum and led her along the maze of narrow streets to the church – a simple stone edifice surrounded by a walled garden planted with olive trees – where the priest and his wife were waiting at the gate.

The plump little woman held a lace veil that she insisted Haven wear, and the priest gave Giles the use of his best robe and red sash. Then, satisfied that the celebrants were properly attired, the white-bearded priest led them to the outer door of the church where the first part of the ceremony was performed. Although Giles’ facility with Greek had grown by leaps since entering the emperor’s employ, there was much in the ancient rite he could not follow; Haven filled in the gaps for him and told him when to respond and what to say. Then they were led into the tiny church where they lit a candle and knelt before the altar; the priest looped a satin stole over their joined hands to tie them together, said a long prayer for their health and prosperity, and then it was over. The priest’s wife clapped her hands with joy and kissed them both on both cheeks, and then the priest ushered them to his house and to the tiny courtyard where the wedding feast would be held.

To honour the occasion, he had invited some of his parishioners and the poorer folk of the neighbourhood. “What is a wedding without a celebration?” he said. “And some of these good folk do not have a single thing to celebrate one Easter to the next.”

“Bring them all,” Haven told him, placing her hand on his arm.

“They are welcome at our wedding feast.”

“You are most gracious, lady,” replied the priest with a bow. He sat them down in wicker chairs beneath a blue canopy and declared, “We will drink wine and eat bread in memory of our Saviour, and we will roast a lamb to make this day a day to remember always.” The little priest and his wife beetled off to finish the preparations and summon the guests, leaving Giles and Haven alone for a moment. Giles, glowing with pride at his new bride, saw her eyes tear up and became concerned. “Why sad, my love?”

“I am not sad, husband,” replied Haven, dabbing her eyes with a corner of her sleeve. “It is just the thought that we shall never see our families again.”

“My dear sweet wife,” replied Giles, “since that is not to be, we shall simply have to make a family of our own.” He raised her hand to his lips and drank in the sight of her. “And what a fine and handsome family it will be.”