The Myst Reader (32 page)

The air was cool, and the silence, after that hideous destructive roar, was the most welcome sound he’d ever heard.

He let out a long breath, remembering that final moment as the wave towered over him, lifting him up into its sightless maw as if to devour him, then sat up.

Tearing off his glasses, he turned toward his desk. Catherine was sitting there in his chair, unaware of his return, her whole attention focused on the book she was reading.

“Catherine?”

She looked up, closing the book and setting it aside. Then, taking in the state of him, she quickly stood and came around the desk. “Atrus? Are you all right?”

He stood, fending her off. “I’m okay. Just a little trouble with the moon.”

“The moon?”

He waved her query aside, then, softly, “What are you here? I thought we said it would be best if you stayed on Riven.”

“I know but…” She stopped, then went over to the desk and turned the book around to face her. “I don’t want to go back.”

“But you must. You can’t stay here.”

“I’ve been working on something,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard him. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Catherine turned and handed him the book.

Atrus stared at her, then, when she said no more, took the book over to the desk, sat and opened it. For a while he was silent, the sound of a turning page the only noise in that great chamber. Then, with a little shake of his head, he looked up.

“What is this?”

She stepped up next to him, looking down at the open pages. “I’ve written us an Age. Somewere we can go. I’ve named it Myst.”

“But this is so different from your other Age.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No…it’s what I would have done, had I time. You…” He laughed, and covered her hand with his own. “I think you are astonishing.”

“I’ve been studying.”

Atrus looked at it again, astounded by the sudden restraint in the writing, the deep understanding of D’ni principles that surpassed even his own. He was silent for a long time.

“There are one or two final touches,” she said, breaking that silence. “But when they’re done…”

“You’ll take me there?”

Catherine smiled. “Of course. Now out of my way, I’ve work to do.”

 

§

 

Atrus sat back after Catherine had gone.

Whatever he felt for Catherine, whatever she might feel for him, this was far more important. If his father was allowed to triumph on Age Five, then he would triumph everywhere, for there was no end to Gehn’s ambitions. Having seen what Catherine had—through chance or design—created in her two Ages, he knew now it was possible that Gehn might yet achieve his dream of resurrecting the D’ni empire, or at least a shadow of it; of creating countless slave worlds, with himself as lord, the fate of millions subject to his will.

There was but one solution: to trap Gehn on Age Five and destroy all of the Linking Books that led out of that Age. But to do so he would have to take the risk that he, too, might be trapped there. And now that Catherine had created Myst island for them—as a sanctuary, away from Gehn—the thought of failure seemed suddenly quite hideous.

Of course, they would have to write another, separate Age—a simple, uninhabited world they might reach from Myst, one where fruit and herbs were plentiful, so they would be provided for, for her new Age was curiously lacking in such things.

Thinking of what he had read of Catherine’s latest book, he wondered briefly if she really had written it, or whether, like his father, she had copied elements of it. It was so different, after all, from her other world.

Or was that fair? After all, if she had been studying…

He shook his head, trying to clear it, to keep focused on what he had to do.

His main priority was still to stabilize the island. Once that was done, he would need to find where Gehn kept his Linking Book, for unless he knew that he could not trap him. He would have to go there and look—to search all the likely places until he found it.

And the most likely place was the cave behind the temple.

Right now, however, there were other things to do. Yawning, Atrus took the Age Five notebook from his pocket, then, pulling his journal toward him, turned it to the page on which he had written out the changes he was to make to the Age Five book, and began to write.

 

§

 

“Atrus! Atrus!”

He woke, wondering what on earth was happening. Catherine was standing over him, shaking him by the shoulders, calling his name time and time again.

“Atrus! Come on, wake up! You have to listen to me!”

He sat up, groggy, barely able to open his eyes. “What?”

“It’s Gehn…he’s moved the date forward!”

“The date?” Atrus was suddenly wide awake. “Moved it to when?”

“Three days. We’ve got three days.”

He groaned. Then it was impossible! There were still more tests to be made before the Fifth Age could be put right. And then there was the matter of Gehn’s Linking book. Unless he could get hold of that…

“Catherine…you know where Gehn keeps his Linking Book.”

She nodded.

“Could you take me back to Riven and show me where?”

Again she hesitated, then, “What are you going to do?”

“Does my father expect to see you again before the wedding ceremony?”

Catherine shook her head.

“Good.” He looked about him at the cluttered desk. “Then we’ll take all of this to Myst. All but the Myst and Age Five books. Then I want you to stay there, Catherine. I want you to keep away from both D’ni and Riven.”

“But you’ll need help…”

Atrus looked at her sternly. “The biggest help to me will be to know that you’re safe.”

“But what are you going to do?”

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.”

22

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Careful 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 sheld 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.