The Seeker - Finna's Quest
Page 34
Like a piece of dry tinder dropped in a flame, Mother and the tiny orb vanished into oblivion. The viz disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
“She’s gone. Can’t we save her?” Inexplicably, Finna felt as though she had lost herself. “Leeth, do something.”
His eyes opened wide. "Mother is . . . All right. Listen. This to this message I just received."
Finna touched his arm. “What did she say?”
He shut his eyes and sighed deeply. “She said we were not to worry about her and that we would see her soon.”
* * *
Finna sat huddled with her friends in a secluded corner of the Leeth’s Torg castle courtyard. They needed to digest the events of the last several weeks and emotionally unwind. They also needed time together.
At first, they discussed the efficiency with which Yasmin and Miri issued instructions to make the survivors comfortable on Torg. Instead of housing them in one large settlement, they had arranged for housing in several nearby villages. Their proximity to the native peoples of Torg would foster the integration of the Liberi and Torg as one people.
Then they turned to what was foremost in their minds. “Did Mother’s message make you feel better?” Leeth asked Finna.
"Not really, I'm glad to know she's safe, at least you say she is, but I am entirely unclear where she went and why."
Leeth glanced at the sky. “I think the woman just does that, goes off, I mean, and then shows up like she did for us when we needed her. I probably don’t know her as well as I thought I did. She’s a bit of an odd duck at times.”
“Odd duck? If that means strange, then yes, I agree. I don’t know her at all.” She tapped her fingers on her cheek. “There is something about her, though—”
They sat for some moments in silence until Yasmin changed the subject. “Is it true? Your people changed their name?”
“They were afraid Vald would get wind of a people in the galaxy called Liberi, even if they used the translation, Children of the Light. They finally came to a unanimous decision to change their name to The Followers.
Finna reached behind her, using her arms for support on the stone bench. “Aren’t you concerned that Vald will learn of the planet Torg?” The idea that Vald would capture them again was terrifying to all of them.
“It’s always a possibility, but rationally, I feel we’re safe.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking across the garden. “Torg has no record of any visit from the Silva. The expression, ‘out of sight, out of mind’ is apt when you consider that anything out of mind is also beyond their ability to reach by repositioning.
“We are an emotionally drained people in need of long-term peace and safety that only a sanctuary can provide.” He closed his eyes. “There isn’t one among us who hasn’t lost a family member to the Silva.”
Jamal, who had almost regained his confidence, repeated Leeth’s words. “Out of sight, out of mind, out of a repositioning destination. Good. I like that.”
Finna suspected it might become his mantra. She slid closer to Leeth and put a hand over his. "Then this is the right time to be on Torg."
Leeth turned his hand over to give hers a squeeze before letting it go. “It’s also a smart strategy for the Followers,” he smiled at the use of their name, “to expand our small colony while living a few generations on Torg. Our advantage over the Silva, who are hell bent on our destruction, is our brains.
“We need to increase our population and ensure that each Follower rapidly reaches his or her initial Awakening so more of us can attain a Second Awakening. Once that level of strength has been secured, then and only then, will we be safe and able to live anywhere in the galaxy. By integrating the current inhabitants of Torg, the Followers, the Torg people, and yes, the Wild Ones, into one community, the population as a whole will greatly profit from the strengths of each population.”
Finna's mind sifted through what she knew of the people on Torg called the Wild Ones, and some doubts assailed her. She likes the idea of inclusion but saw possible problems. “Explain, Seeker, is that what the Time Lords want?”
Leeth grinned at her return to her former address. “The Time Overlords are not supreme rulers seeking to control our lives. Their only reason for being is to ensure no time traveler disrupts Earth's time structure. The Time Overlords have issued a temporary ban on any travel to Earth until they have regained control over Earth's destiny. If, at some time in the future when that ban is lifted, you and I, along with Yasmin and Jamal, could return to our home planet."
That didn’t please Finna. “What of my quest for the Queen? What of my father’s redemption?”
His eyes narrowed. “Neither will be a problem. Remember, time travel is a double-edged sword. Let’s say it takes them five hundred years to know your quest for the queen can be fulfilled with no injury to Earth’s timeline. They would not make you wait five hundred years before granting permission they could tell it would be safe to perform the quest today, for example. Still, be patient. I have a contact on the council’s board who has assured me he will inform us when the time is right.”
* * *
Three months passed before Finna’s abilities grew in strength to lift her eyes to the icy blue Torg sky and viz across the galaxy to her small home and village on Earth. The Time Overlords temporary ban on travel to Earth permitted remote viewing and the possibility to glean within an inhabitant of Earth. Knowing Leeth's experience, gleaning freaked her out, and for a while, she was satisfied with vizing. Sill, for some unknown reason, she cannot locate any trace of her father.
Lying under a tree on Torg, she remotely viewed the magnificent cathedral of Vézelay. The work of her father dominated her village's skyline, and its spire speared the setting sun. Seeing her tiny house nearby, nestled between fallow fields and the forest, filled her with nostalgia. She wanted to go home. Even knowing it was against the Overlords' rules, she followed the pull of her heart.
Following an impulse beyond her control, Finna repositioned to her favorite place, the low wall that connected her house to the animal shelter. Her farm looked run down and seemed deserted and alarmed, she vized every room, field, and storage area searching for her father.
When she found none, she vized the land surrounding the farm, the village, and finally the interior of the cathedral. With a grim need to know, she also examined the cathedral’s cemetery. Relieved to find no evidence of her father there, she boldly entered their cottage and lifted the floorboards under her father’s bed where they kept extra supplies, valuables and weapons. It was empty. Thieves either took it in her father’s absence, or he’d taken them with him when he left.
She gulped back tears. She'd pictured her father often plowing the fields, feeding the animals, or cutting stone at the cathedral. The image had kept her going on the long marches to the Holy Lands and through the crazy days and nights with Leeth. How could her father be gone? Where would he go?
With a tearful reluctance, she moved on to the task at hand. The chalices. The weight of her oath to the queen had hung heavy on her conscience for some time, always with the promise from Leeth he would help her. She could wait no longer, and she considered how she would complete her vow.
The task was complicated by the need to follow Queen Eleanor’s instructions to return the cups in secret so those who had falsely accused the monarch of stealing them would be exposed as deceivers.
Her problem was the Time Overlords had expected her to wait until her powers matured sufficiently to transcend time and space with her mind and perform the undertaking remotely from Torg. Hah. Magic as far as she was concerned. And why do it that way when she had the skill to transcend time and space and sidestep the Overlords’ directive to visit Earth and her father without their permission.
While she’d repositioned herself and personally rescued dozens, Finna had never repositioned inanimate objects on her own. Without telling her why she wasn’t ready to perform solo, Leeth only said a living objec
t was easier to grasp.
Finna and her father had moved enough stones from the fields by her cottage to build a second cathedral so she knew the fields would have what she needed, a rock the size and weight of a chalice. She looked over the weeds and grasses for the right sized stones to approximate the weight of each chalice. After careful selection of several objects, she relaxed against the residual warmth of the wall and selected a melon-sized gray rock from the small stack several paces from her feet.
Perfect.
She eyed an old oak and gauged the distance to be slightly farther than Jamal could throw his spear. A smiled curled her lips. She wished he sat there with her. His incessant chatter would be welcome.
Humph.
Better still, she wished Leeth were with her sharing his stubborn silence.
She gave the lowest thick branch a squint-eyed stare and launched the rock with her mind, attempting to reposition it to sit on the branch. Her rock flew true, but when the speeding missile made contact with the limb, it exploded into a thousand splinters.
She flinched. By God’s freaking bones, she’d have to do better than that and selected another rock.
Three rocks later, she selected a different tree.
Not sure she was getting any better, concern weighed on the back of her neck like an unwelcome boil. She wanted to find her father and this exercise was taking entirely too long and knowing she had all the time in the world, gave her little solace. She sighted in on a smaller stone and a closer tree. She took a deep breath and calmed her mind. This had to be the gentle action of a butterfly landing, not a knight-falling-from-a-horse landing.
74
Unexpected Encounter
Old Friends
Finna wandered over the fields lost in memories of childhood when something caught her eye.
She was not alone.
On the dirt road across the field, a man stretched high to pluck an out-of-reach-apple from a tree.
Godfrey.
Warmth spread through her at the sight of her former squire. With infinite care, she used her mind to bend the branch and laughed when he quickly snatched four apples from the tree. Then, with a hoot, she picked up her booty bag and sprinted across the field toward him.
Godfrey, in the act of putting his hard-won apples in a basket, jerked his head at her approach and reached for his sword.
He'd grown taller in her absence and had lost weight. His excellent warrior stance gave him the look of a worthy opponent, and she halted her advance, giving him a moment to recognized her. “Hold.” She raised her hands. “’Tis I, loyal Squire,” and laughed at her play making.
“Finna?”
“Yes, my friend.”
With the ease of two long-lived friends, they embraced, erasing more than two years of separation.
"You survived the Crusades."
She laughed. “More or less. And a great deal more. How have you been?”
After exchanging greetings, he grew quiet. “I’m sorry about your father, Finna.”
“Sorry? Where is he? I can’t find him.”
"Of course. You haven't heard." He lowered his head with his reply, one he apparently felt reluctant to give.
“Heard what, Godfrey? Out with it.”
“The King’s men came and took him away. We in the village later heard he was executed, but no one knew why.” He wrung his hands in front of him, looking like his younger, unsure self. “I’m sorry, Finna.”
Godfrey had taken the wind from her sails, and it was hard to concentrate on his barrage of questions. Finna answered all his queries about the crusade and hedged on others. It wasn't a matter of distrust so much as how complicated her life had gotten. She didn't want to go through it again. They walked toward the village and his family's small cottage.
“How is your family? Everyone all right?”
Godfrey kicked a small stone off the trail and kept his head low looking for another one. “There’s been little food and work here. The crusade seemed to take everything with it. Father plans to move us nearer to the coast and take up fishing with his brother. Picture that. I’ll be a fisherman. I’ll probably get seasick.”
Finna could relate all too well to that image but held her tongue. She remembered Leeth's advice. Sometimes you must weave a lie around the truth to make it plausible.
"Godfrey, I must return to Queen Eleanor to report on my mission. That might take another two or more years. My house is empty, and my fields lay fallow. Make my home your own until I return. Maintain it and eat what you grow. You can sell what's extra and keep the profits."
Her friend stopped walking and stared at her generosity. She pulled him close and reached into her booty bag, withdrawing the small pouch of gold coin. "I will pay twelve gold coins a year for your services." She removed and counted out thirty-six coins. "Here is payment for three years."
“You’ll pay me?” her friend sputtered and pushed her offer away. “You’ll pay me? Pay me? You are a trading lackwit, Finna I have never known you to be such.” He gently punched her arm. “I will save the profits and pay you. Three years? Must you be away that long?”
Finna snatched his cap from his head and dropped the coins it. “Please, Godfrey. I need you to do this for me.”
He raised his eyes from his cap, now heavy with coins. “Thank you. My family will be good to your home.”
“You’ve been a friend to me for a long time. Thank you.” She grinned. “Remember, together, we’re one hell of a team. We beat Bromwell, didn’t we?”
Godfrey chuckled. “We did. Go with God, Finna.”
“And you, my friend.”
* * *
At sunset, Finna returned to her wall to viz the cathedral’s altar area. She started. She could hear the monks and clergy preparing for evening prayers, as well as see them. It was as though she was actually there. Throughout the night, people came and went, first for prayers and later for cleaning. She determined that the morning before the first mass was the best time to perform her magic. She smiled at the word. How often had she accused Leeth of such enchantment?
Finna selected a seat on the center aisle five rows back from the altar and knelt in prayer. The two chalices lay beside her in a sack on the wooden pew, one a golden urn and the other a cup held in a rock-crystal base. She would place them simultaneously from above to the far ends of each side of the altar.
It was time. After scanning the nave and the altar for stragglers, she repositioned the two vessels high above their targeted resting place and waited. Yet as she watched, the chalices disappeared.
What the—
< You can’t do that.>
“We need to fix this.”
75
Undo, Redo
Finna Recovers
Did I get caught? I thought I knew how . . . The dream training . . . the—"
Leeth wrapped an arm around Finna’s shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “I’m not here to judge. Do you want to practice your technique again or just start from when we will return the royal cups?”
The air left her lungs. A redo. She saw Leeth understood how she felt.
“Not the whole time. I can’t do all that again. It’s too much.”
“Your problem is the time. As in the day, the chalices were taken. That's why I'm here. This was not that day in time. She inhaled a hitched breath. “It would have been bad then? If I had been successful?
He raised one brow and nodded. “So what day was it?”
* * *
Exhausted, Finna napped and later that morning, she woke to a blue sky dotted with small white clouds and birds squawking angrily in the distance. Ugh. It wasn’t a dream. She still had the chalices. They lay beside her as if to mock her. Would she never be rid
of them?
Leeth stretched beside her reinforcing her reality. “I have some bread and cheese in my pouch,” he said, surprising her. “Let’s eat while you sort out in your mind when the chalices disappeared.” He pulled a rolled cloth from his pouch and spread it open. Then he placed bread and a bulging leather pouch, sealed with a cork between them.
“The bread is nice and warm, how did you manage that?”
“The wine pouch is full of my morning drink.”
She touched the bag then squinted at him with one closed eye. "Hot wine?"
He laughed. “It’s coffee. Try some. It’s a habit I acquired from some of my Arabian friends. I’ve missed it. It is normally bitter as hell, but I sweetened it for you, and as you noticed, it keeps the bread warm. Try a sip.”
He handed her the bag. “Don’t squeeze it.”
Frowning at him for the unnecessary warning, yet not averse to trying new flavors, Finna took the bag and sipped. “Umm. Still bitter, but interesting.”
“Interesting, huh? Coffee won’t reach this part of the world for eight hundred years. I’m guessing you’ll not want to wait that long. Wait until you’ve had it with a bagel and cream cheese.
Leeth chuckled in good spirits. “So, on to today's business, tell me about your plan."
She hoped that meant he saw their ‘problem' as nothing too difficult. Lord, she hoped so. She took a deep breath. "Returning the chalices is more complicated than I thought. For Queen Eleanor to be absolved of any wrong doing, you are right. I must replace the missing chalices so they are seen in their proper position in the cathedral before she leaves the Holy Land. That way, no one will think she was involved in returning them, and she will look innocent of the original theft." She rubbed her chin and stared into space. "That's the time frame we must work with, but I'm stuck on knowing exactly when they were stolen. What event would mark the time they disappeared?"