The Myst Reader (38 page)

He stood up then came around the desk, taking her arms gently in his hands. “Do you trust me, Catherine?”

She smiled, then nodded.

“Then wait for me. As soon as I’ve dealt with my father, I’ll come and join you on Myst island.”

There was a slight flicker in her expression, as if, for a moment, she was going to disagree, then she nodded.

“Good. Then let’s get back to Riven. It’s time you showed me where my father keeps his Linking Book.”

C
AREFUL NOT TO BE SEEN, THEY WALKED
quickly up the temple’s steps and into the shadowy interior. Since Atrus had last been here, the place had been decked out with great gold and red banners, ready for the wedding ceremony.

My father, with Catherine … no, it will never happen.

He followed Catherine through, behind the great golden silk screen that had Gehn’s silhouette embroidered at its center, and down the narrow flight of steps, into the cave. It was just as he’d thought.

“He used to bring us here,” she said quietly, almost whispering. “There would be a linking ceremony. He’d make the chosen one drink something from one of the golden chalices. It had the faintest taste of aniseed. And afterward … well, afterward you could remember nothing. But lately …” She looked down. “Lately he’s trusted me. He brought me here and showed me where the book was hidden.”

Atrus watched her go across and, standing on tip-toe, reach into one of the holes that peppered the rock face to the left of the low-ceilinged cave, searching a moment before she withdrew her hand, clutching the slender box that held Gehn’s Linking Book.

He walked over, looking down at the floor, then back up again, fixing the position in his mind the way Anna had taught him. Then, nodding, he gestured for her to put it back.

“Come,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go to your hut and get any remaining books.”

She pulled on his hand, slowing him, making him face her. “Atrus?”

“Yes?”

She leaned close and kissed his cheek—just a single, gentle peck—then, tugging on his hand, moved on, hurrying now, knowing that there was barely time to do all they had to do before the ceremony.

ATRUS BLINKED, THE BRIGHT SUNLIGHT HURTING
his eyes after the dullness of his prison, and pulled his glasses down over his face.

He was standing on a wooden jetty, the knapsack holding the books heavy on his back. Water lapped against the rocks beneath, while somewhere out in the distant haze seagulls called forlornly. To his right the sea was calm and green, stippled by the light breeze that blew across the island from the northwest. Facing him, directly east from where he stood, a barren rock, twenty feet in height and thirty or forty in width rose from the sea like a sawn tree trunk. To its left, the land rose to a sharp peak, over a hundred feet in height, while behind him and to his left, beyond a narrow shelf of rock, tall pines filled the west end of the island.

Atrus smiled. The air was clean and clear, the smell of pine strong. Overhead the sky was a pale blue, wisps of thin cirrus high up in the atmosphere.

He turned back, waiting, then saw Catherine step out of the air onto the wooden planks beside him, the heavily laden knapsack on her back.

“This is beautiful …”

“You wrote it so,” he said. “Considering how much time you had, I think you did a marvelous job.”

Atrus looked about him, breathing in the rich, clean air. “That smell. It’s so wonderful.”

He stopped suddenly, realizing that it was the same smell as on the Thirty-seventh Age. Before Gehn had destroyed it.

“What is it?” she asked, noting how his face had changed.

“It’s nothing,” he said, shrugging off the mood.

“Then come. Let me show you the cabin.”

“A cabin! You’ve built a cabin here already?”

She took his hand and led him up a narrow track that climbed the rock slope. At the top, the ground opened out. There was grass beneath their feet now. The sound of the wind was stronger here—a strangely desolate sound, punctuated by the more peaceful sound of birdsong.

“Yes,” he said, after a moment. “I could live here.”

Catherine smiled and squeezed his hand, then pointed down the broad grass path between the trees. “It’s down there,” she said. “Just over on the left.”

They walked on along the sloping path until they stood before the cabin.

Atrus stared a while, noting how neatly the logs were fixed, how cleverly she had trimmed the planks that framed the doorway, and shook his head, astonished. There were clearly aspects of Catherine he had never suspected.

“It’s a good beginning,” he said quietly.

“I’m glad you think so.”

He turned, looking back up the slope toward the peak. “We could build things here. Perhaps finally a library of my own.”

“Shhh …” she said, amused by his eagerness. “There’ll be time. After we’ve dealt with Gehn.”

“Yes …” The reminder sobered him. “I’ll see you settled in, then I’d best get back. Two more journeys should see me finished.”

“Atrus?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure I can’t help?”

He hesitated, then drew her close and kissed her gently, a proper kiss this time—their first.

“No,” he said, staring into the green depths of her eyes. “Just wait for me here. All right?”

“All right,” she answered, leaning forward to kiss his nose gently.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Then come. I’ll drop the books and go back.”

BUT EVEN AFTER THE LAST OF THE BOOKS WERE
transferred and safely stacked in a corner of the cabin, Atrus lingered on Myst island.

Catherine had brought blankets with her from Riven and had made up a rough pallet bed in the corner facing the books, using her knapsack for a pillow. Seeing it, he imagined her here after he had gone and realized, for the first time, how lonely she would be if he did not return.

“Well?” she asked, from the doorway, making him turn, startled by the suddenness of her appearance.

He laughed. “You frightened me.”

“Frightened you?” She came across. “Are you afraid of me, then, Atrus?”

He smiled as her fingers brushed his face. “No. I could never be frightened of you. Surprised, I meant.”

“Then I shall keep surprising you.”

She moved past him, placing the stalk of a small white flower she had picked in the gap between two of the logs so that it hung just above the space where she would sleep.

He stared at it, then met her eyes. “What’s that?”

“It’s to remind me of you, while you’re gone.” She stood, then offered him her hand. “Shall we have a walk, Atrus? Along the shore?”

He realized suddenly that he had outstayed his time, but the idea of walking with her seemed suddenly more important than anything else he had to do.

He took her hand then stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight.

The wind had dropped and it was much warmer now, the sky above them clear. Looking up, he realized it would be a good night to watch the stars and wondered suddenly what the stars were like here on Myst island.

If only I could stay …

But he could not stay. It was not fated. He had to stop Gehn, whatever the outcome.

Catherine looked to him. “Why did you sigh just then?”

“Because this is all so perfect.”

They walked slowly along the path, then cut through the trees and out onto the grassy slope. Below them was the sea, stretching away into the misted distance. Close by, just over to their left, was a tiny island, separated from the shore by a narrow stretch of water.

“Come,” she said, leading him down until they stood just yards from the lapping surface of that sea. “Let’s sit and talk.”

“Talk?” Atrus hesitated, then sat beside her. “About what?”

“About the future.”

“About whether you’ll make it back from Riven, you mean?”

Atrus looked to her, surprised.

“You think I didn’t know what you had planned?”

He laughed. “Am I that predictable?”

She laid her fingers gently on his cheek. “No. But I know you feel you have to do what is right, even if it means sacrificing yourself.”

He laid his hand on hers. “I
will
be back.”

“Yet there’s a risk?”

He nodded.

“And you want me to stay here, no matter what?”

Again he nodded.

“And the Linking Book, back to D’ni?”

“Destroy it, the moment I’m gone.”

“Then if Gehn links here he will be trapped with me, and with a supply of blank books.”

Atrus looked down. It was the one flaw in his plan. To be certain of trapping Gehn he ought to destroy his own Linking Book from Riven to D’ni the instant he returned to Age Five, but that would also trap him there, and he wanted to get back. No, not wanted,
needed
. To be with her.

“I’ll be careful,” he said. “I know where he links to. I’ll take his Linking Book from its hiding place then watch for him to arrive. The moment he’s on Riven, I’ll burn his Linking Book. Then I only have to destroy my own.”

Her eyes were smiling now. Leaning forward she kissed the tip of his nose. “Okay. No more about your plans. What about you?”

“I know almost nothing about you. Your grandmother, Anna, for instance. Do you remember what she was like?”

She was like you
, he wanted to say, but the reminder of Anna made him look down.

Taking the almost empty knapsack from his back he removed his journal and handed it to her.

She held the small, gray book delicately, almost as if it were a living thing.

“It’s my journal. I … I want you to read it. While I’m gone. It might … well, it might help you to understand me.”

“In case you don’t come back?”

He hesitated, then nodded.

And suddenly, he understood what it was he had wanted from Catherine. Companionship. Someone to understand him. Someone with whom to share all his adventures and experiments. Someone to be there by his side, as Anna had once been, only not as teacher or substitute mother, but as a full partner.

He reached out, laying his fingers gently on her cheek.

For one tiny moment that was all: the two of them, sitting there in the sunlight beside the water, Catherine with her eyes closed, Atrus’s journal in her lap, her face tilted slightly to meet the gentle touch of his fingers while Atrus stared at her in wonder, as if at an Age he would never visit, only glimpse through the descriptive image on the page.

And then she turned, looking to him again, her green eyes searching his. “You’d better go now, Atrus.”

The idea of leaving was suddenly like contemplating death itself. All he wanted in life was right here on Myst island.

“Catherine …”

“I’ll be all right. Now go.”