Gates of Eden: Starter Library

by Theophilus Monroe

  Joni nodded. “I can do ‘magic stuff,’ but my abilities are as much learned as latent. I certainly have a natural inclination toward it, but it’s not like magic powers run in my veins. I’m what is known as a siphon. I don’t produce magic, but when I encounter it I can wield it, enhance it. I’ve never performed a spell without focus, without intention. For Elijah, it’s almost like a reflex. This… Well, when it happened it was Elijah’s magic that brought me along. I only piggybacked on his own power. I’m fairly certain it will work, I just need to amplify the energies more this time.”

  “All I know,” I added, “is it’s worth a try. I don’t want to leave anyone out. I want all of you to see what I’m seeing, to help me understand.”

  “I’m game,” Tyler affirmed.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Joni agreed. “Seeing these things, these memories… it was incredible. At least for me, it helped me come to terms with the magnitude of all this. This is something significant, something that impacts more than just Elijah. We can talk about this stuff all day—we can even see Elijah do some incredible things, but witnessing these visions… words can’t do it justice. It will help all of us to know what Elijah—what we—are facing.”

  Emilie seemed surprised, though pleased that Joni was eager to include her and Tyler. “What did it feel like?” she asked, directing her eyes toward Joni.

  “Pretty much like Elijah described it. I felt a tingle starting in my forehead, across my eyebrows. That wasn’t unusual. Whenever I’ve accessed magic before, it felt that way. But then everything changed. Black, then a flash. The vision came together at once. Being there, seeing these memories felt both real, very real, but also somehow different than normal life. It was like I was there, but my sensations were a little off. I’ve experienced magic, a lot of different forms of energy, but nothing this potent.”

  Emilie nodded. “Elijah said you had guessed that he’s a Druid before you saw the vision. What do you know about Druids? How did you put the pieces together?” There was an urgency about Emilie’s tone that resembled something of an interrogation. Still, her questions were legitimate.

  Joni took no offense at Emilie’s tone of voice. “The tree was the main thing,” she explained. “The legends and myths I’ve researched, all associate Druidry with nature magic. Other forms of magic, most of them, engage the elements. But the Druids were known to not only use nature, but seemed to have a real connection to it. Druids don’t use nature, they revere it. Nature, in turn, responds to the Druid almost willingly. That tree, saving Elijah and all y’all… No one can manipulate nature that way. It requires something more. It’s something only Druidry, which I thought was a lost art, would be capable of. Not to mention, I knew there was another boy out there. I was told our paths would cross eventually.”

  “Wait,” I added. “You were looking for me?”

  “Yes, and no,” Joni said. “Messalina… she redeemed herself before she died. With her last breath, she told me that there was a boy who could help… Help my mom, I mean.”

  “I can’t believe this!” Emilie shouted. “You are using him.”

  “Emilie,” Joni said calmly, “it’s not like that…”

  “It’s okay,” I interrupted. “If there was a way to bring my parents back, I would try anything. If Joni thought I might give her that chance…”

  “My feelings for you, Elijah,” Joni said, “they’re more than that.”

  “I know, Joni,” I said. “If I could help your mom, I would… Trust me, I would. But I don’t even know for sure if I am that boy Messalina told you about. I don’t know what I can do.”

  Joni took a deep breath. Her shoulders rose and lowered again, a slight smile indicating her relief.

  “What else can a Druid do?” Tyler asked, turning to Joni.

  Joni shrugged. “Trying to decipher truth from legend is an art in itself. The stories are full of embellishments, I’m sure. A few things seem to occur in most of them, though. There’s a connection to the trees, nearly always. I’ve experienced that connection myself. We know Elijah has an ability to use stones to store magical energy. We know, at least, that Elijah’s father could. And Elijah can access it. Presumably he could do a lot more. There is one more thing, though. Emilie, some of the research you printed off emphasized it. Shapeshifting. Druids are thought to have been able to assume animal forms. I mean, I’ve never done that, but it is intriguing.”

  “I noticed that in some of the articles I had, too,” Tyler added. “One issue, though: if it’s even possible, unless it totally violates the laws of physics, it could never be an exact metamorphosis.”

  “What do you mean?” Joni asked.

  “Mass energy can neither be created nor destroyed. It’s a law of physics. If, for the sake of argument, Elijah can shapeshift—which I won’t believe until I see it—it would have to include his total mass. So, for example, if he were to shift into a bird, he would either have to radically increase the density of a typical bird, making him far too heavy to fly, or he would have to assume the bird’s form on a much larger scale. And, in the case of a bird, whose bone mass is significantly less dense than a human’s, a hypothetical bird form would be significantly larger than even a human frame. It would have to be massive.”

  “Fascinating,” Joni replied.

  “The only other option,” Tyler added, “would be to release his innate mass energies in order to become something smaller, or to somehow absorb the mass energies of something else in order to transform into something larger. That seems scary, though. Say, for instance, Elijah transformed into a bird and released some of his mass energy into the ether. Is there any guarantee he could reabsorb the right amount of energy again to return to his present form? Even in theory, it’s questionable.”

  “Presuming I even have that ability,” I added.

  “A presumption we can’t assume,” Emilie replied, “but we should certainly be prepared for.”

  We all nodded in agreement.

  “The problem,” I suggested, “is that it’s hard to know what we can prepare for at this stage. That’s why I want to share my memories my dad left. There’s more there to learn. There might even be more to learn than what we can learn from these visions alone.”

  I retrieved the envelope that had been included with the memory stone, removed a page from the letter it contained, and passed it around. I left out the page dealing with finances.

  I explained, “This was included with my father’s stone. Apparently my parents owned property, something off the maps in the Ozarks. I’m sorry I didn’t share the letter with you all sooner. I didn’t know if it might be relevant. I also wanted to be sure we were all in this together. But this lawyer who has been managing my parents’ estate wants to meet me there on May 1 so we can sign the deeds and go over the financial portion of my parents’ estate in more detail. As you can see, he left a map and directions. He handwrote a time in the upper-right corner for us to show up at. Here’s the problem: he left no way to contact him. When I go, I want you all to come with me. I have a feeling this property, whatever is there, will be crucial to understanding this. And the lawyer, he might know a few things, too.”

  “Of course we’ll come,” Emilie said in concert with affirming nods all around. “But did he really not leave any contact information? No phone numbers? An e-mail address? Even a return address on the package?”

  “The return address was to a P.O. box. And you can see his letterhead for yourself,” I said, passing the letter to Tyler. “Just his name: Merle Nesbitt, Attorney at Law.”

  “What? What name did you say?” Joni asked, grabbing the letter from Tyler’s hands.

  “Merle Nesbitt,” I clarified.

  Joni took a deep breath. The color seemed to have disappeared from her face. “That’s impossible. It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “What are you talking about?” Emilie asked.

  “Merle Nesbitt.” Joni looked up from the letter, then at me. “Doctor Merle N
esbitt. He’s the physician treating my mom.”

  “You think it’s the same guy?” I asked.

  Joni shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not exactly a common name.”

  “But seriously,” Tyler added, “the same dude is both a lawyer and a doctor? Only a serious masochist would put himself through both law and medical school.”

  “Joni, what’s this guy like?” I asked.

  “See, that’s the thing. We haven’t met him. It’s incredibly frustrating. He wrote us, personally. He told us he specialized in conditions like my mom’s. He claimed to have some kind of promising experimental treatment. Mom was already pre-approved for the study. Well, we moved up here. We sacrificed to do it, too. Broke up with my boyfriend and everything. Pa rented the old Campbell plantation to the historical society to use as a museum. Then, we get to St. Louis and the guy never shows. He always has some lackeys—medical students, residents, and such—who are supposedly enacting his protocol. It’s been months, and Dr. Nesbitt still hasn’t examined Mom directly. Dad is super pissed about it, but it’s not like we have many options. Doctors in Mississippi have tried everything they could. And in spite of everything, the experimental protocol seems to be working. Mom’s brain activity has improved with every treatment. In fact, I had just dropped into the hospital that morning… You know, tree day. They thought she might be close to responding… But, wait… No, that can’t be…”

  “What, Joni?” I grabbed her hand.

  “The only reason I was on the highway that morning when I saw you, what you did… Do you think? I mean, I don’t know how. You think he planned this? You think he meant for me to see you?” Joni bit her lip.

  “I don’t see how it could have been possible,” Tyler said.

  “I agree,” Emilie added. “No way he could have known that other driver would blow a tire... at that exact moment.”

  “Or, even assuming he knows I’m a Druid,” I said, “he couldn’t have known that I could spawn a tree like that.”

  “I don’t know.” Joni was shaking her head. “This all seems too strange to have been a coincidence.”

  Joni was right. I mean, Joni with her magical acumen, happening to be the one person of all the people I knew to positively identify me at the scene, could have been a stroke of incredible luck. That’s what I’d thought before. But this information suggested that both of us were seemingly brought together by the machinations of someone named Merle Nesbitt. It couldn’t be mere happenstance. But how could this Nesbitt character actually pull something like this off? It was an enigma. It was a mystery, however, that wouldn’t remain unsolved for long.

  “Well, it’s a good thing we have an appointment with Nesbitt in a couple days,” I added. “Presuming he makes a personal appearance at this property I’m supposed to be inheriting, hopefully he can give us some answers.”

  “Not to mention,” Emilie piped in, “if this really is the same person, this Nesbitt, he certainly wasn’t overly concerned that you two might put the pieces together. Elijah, if he wanted you and Joni to meet and he knew she would be able to help you with all this magic stuff, I figure he’d have to know you’d eventually share this letter with her, too.”

  “Good point,” Joni agreed with a nod.

  “Yeah, he could have used a different name,” Tyler said. “I mean, different with Joni’s family than he did with you, if he was really trying to conceal himself.”

  I raised a hand as if I was about to issue a verdict on the matter at hand. “Okay, so Nesbitt assumes that we would—or at least could—put the pieces together. We have to assume, then, that he also has good intentions. My parents apparently trusted him, so that’s a good sign, too. I say we don’t worry about it. At least not until he gives us some reason to doubt his motives. We go together, May 1. We get our answers then. Until then, we focus on what we’ve already been given.”

  I reached into my backpack and set the memory stone at the center of the table.

  “Everyone ready?” I asked as I removed the inhibitor necklace, took a sip of my coffee, and then asked the group to join hands. They concurred and followed my bidding. I willed the stone to respond. The glow illuminated the sigil, filling my eyes. Then, everything went black.

  11. Maia

  WE FOUND OURSELVES standing, still holding hands in a circle, around the tree that we had previously seen at the center of the Druid’s dance. It was the same tree that Michael, the seraph, had cast his energy into moments before the cone emerged.

  We were in the same clearing, and this was the same tree. But as I looked up, I noticed it had changed.

  “Um, Joni, was that there before?” I asked.

  “Definitely not.”

  I didn’t think so. The branches of the tree, having spanned significant horizontal lengths, were now pulled up and twisted together surrounding some sort of bulbous, oaken dome. It was like a giant seed. Whatever it was, it appeared as though the tree itself was protecting it.

  “Anyone recognize this?” I asked. “See anything like this in your research?”

  “I have no idea,” Joni admitted.

  “I’ve got nothing,” Tyler concurred, his eyes wide in wonder.

  “Neither do I,” Emilie added with an airiness in her voice.

  We released one another’s hands and each surveyed our surroundings. Only a few feet away stood my father, Diarmid. He looked just as he had before. A smudge of dirt on his left cheek, which I recalled from the prior vision, was still there, but a little less pronounced. I looked beyond him; Michael lurked in the distance, several paces behind Diarmid. They were frozen in place.

  Also as before, I heard my father’s adult voice echo from the skies, welcoming us to the scene we were about to witness. “I see you have gathered your order, son,” the booming voice of my father’s memory observed. “I never expected you would accomplish this so soon.”

  “My order? These are my friends. What are you talking about?”

  “The meaning, son, will be revealed. Your order, your friends. You will need them, and they you. Mr. Harley, Miss Royce—I need not question your intentions. You have been in Elijah’s life since childhood. And I already know Miss Campbell. She, too, has noble intentions. Elijah, my son, you have chosen well.”

  “Yeah. Thanks Dad, I guess. What is it we’re seeing? This is different.”

  “It is a Maia. The only true Maia, to my knowledge, to ever appear on Earth. After the dance I showed you last night, this was the gift the cone had left behind.”

  “A Maia? Like a maypole?” Joni asked.

  “Very astute, Joni,” my father’s voice continued. “It was this very Maia that first inspired the tradition of the maypole.”

  Joni grinned at my father’s compliment. It suddenly dawned on me that this would be the only opportunity she and my father—even if only his memory—would get to meet. He seemed impressed. She had his approval.

  “What is it?” Emilie asked.

  “It’s Annwn,” my father continued. “You may know it better as Eden. No creature ever truly dies there, but they do have a cycle between life and rebirth. There, all creatures are like the trees which bloom in season, then fall dormant. What you see here is the Maia of a Dryad, or wood nymph. The Dryad nourish the forests of Annwn. When their cycle is complete, they may if they choose return to seed and nest until Annwn’s forest again requires their service. The Dryad’s seed nests within her beating heart. When her seed returns to soil, a tree of the forest may choose to bear it up in its branches and nourish it of its own sap. Once the Dryad has regrown into her full form, the Maia will open and free her for its service. From the time the tree bears the Dryad’s seed, the process could take a few minutes, or it could take centuries to mature. But this one, the only one I ever truly witnessed, was unique. A nymph of Annwn born into an earthen tree, occasioned by the dance as the veil between our worlds thinned.”

  “Dad, did you know all this at the time?” I asked.

  “I knew very little.
Michael only told me that this was my gift from the dance. From Annwn. It was the reason he came to our village to begin with. I only learned later the true nature and magnificence of this gift. He told me very little about the gift itself. He did not speak at all of the Dryad.”

  Then, as before, a slight breeze struck my right cheek. The paused scene was beginning to progress.

  “Diarmid,” Michael called from a distance, “follow me.”

  Together with Diarmid, all four of us followed Michael into the woods as if he had beckoned us directly. Considering the perimeters of these visions, what my father had witnessed and recorded as memory, Michael’s call to follow wasn’t one we really had any choice but to heed.

  As Diarmid caught up to Michael, so did we. The previous night’s vision—which Joni and I had witnessed only a few hours earlier—had taken us from a village to this clearing. Now we were heading even deeper into the forest, opposite the direction of Diarmid and Ceridwen’s village.

  This venture through the woods was considerably simpler than the trip we took before. This occasion offered the benefits of both daylight, and the fact that Diarmid no longer felt like he was struggling to keep up with his angelic guide.

  This was more like a casual stroll through the forest. The breeze was pleasant. The birds were singing, each their own song. The smell of pollen was in the air. It was spring. Maypole—it made sense.

  “Where are we going, Michael?” Diarmid asked.

  “We need to gather a few rocks.”

  “Rocks? Why?”

  “Stones can store energy, Diarmid. We need to place several stones in the circle. Over time, the energies of each dance will join to the energies stored in the stones. It will make the cone stronger. Eventually, it will be strong enough to open the Maia.”

  “Come on, Michael,” Diarmid pleaded with him. “Tell me what’s in it!”

  “If I told you, Diarmid, it would ruin the surprise.” The seraph’s response was accompanied by a giant grin.