“Thank you,” I say, smiling at Emma and my Mom. I can’t believe we survived, much less the way we escaped.
“No, thank you,” Rahab replies. “It is one thing to capture in the Scouring. It is quite another thing to capture one from Black’s territory, especially the very one whose journey you can complete.”
“Complete?” I ask. “What do you mean?”
“Look into the fire,” Rahab says. “All of you. There are important things for you to see. And there will be a Scouring tomorrow. You three will go.” She clasps my Mom’s arm gently. “It could be a final Scouring for you.”
My Mom only nods in response, her eyes turning from Rahab to the fire.
Complete? Final? These words are unusual here. And how could my Mom’s journey be complete so soon after her memories were wiped?
I say to Rahab, “But the only way out of the Scouring is...”
“The White Tower,” she finishes for me.
“That can’t be possible,” I say, glancing to my Mom. “She—”
Rahab stops me with a raised hand. “Please, look into the fire now,” she repeats, “and you will see.”
“Cipher?” Emma holds out her hand to me. “Shall we?”
The signal fire burns brightly beside us, with dragon teeth laid around it. The flames rise almost twice as high as the first time I came here, with Khan and Seth and Jafari’s body. The Red Tower is stronger now. The warmth feels good, thawing my fingers and toes. I take Emma’s hand, and then my Mom’s. She doesn’t resist even though she already seems lost in a vision. I stand between them and we gaze into the flames together.
It’s a perfect September day. The sun shines in a blue sky and a breeze makes the warm air feel alive. I snap another picture with my phone. I can’t stop taking pictures. Why would I? I’ve waited months for this day. I’ve finally made it to campus. My dorm building looks like a gothic castle, with ivy climbing up the walls. The plaque outside the front says, Chamberlain Hall, with a portrait of an old British man, Oliver Chamberlain, who donated the funds to build it centuries earlier. It’s quite a legacy. So I snap a picture of it, too.
“Come on!” my Mom yells happily. “We’ve got a few more loads.”
She waves for me to come. She stands beside a rusted blue pickup truck with a few boxes in the back. She’s wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and flip-flops. She’s not like any of the other parents around, who come in pairs and drive black and silver SUVs and wear loafers and blazers. But she’s also much younger, and much more proud of me, I’m sure, than any other parent could be. She’s worked hard to help me get here.
I bound down the building’s front stairs and come to her side by the truck. “It’s Chamberlain Hall, Mom! I had to take another picture. He founded this place. Can you believe how old everything is here?”
“Fine, fine.” She tussles my hair playfully. “Did you find a spot for a picture of me on your shelf?”
I laugh and reach past her. Inside one of the boxes, at the top, is exactly the picture I had picked. It’s in a simple, black frame. It’s a picture of us a couple months before, when she dragged me away for a trip out to the beach for the day. Just the two of us. We cooked lobster and talked under the stars. She’d told me that night how proud she was of me, that she never deserved a son so smart or so good. She told me that she wanted things to go better for me than they had for her, and how she knew they would. She said I’d make a great doctor, a great husband, a great father someday.
“Here’s the one!” I say, handing her the frame.
She takes it with both hands and studies it for a moment. She smiles even as she tears up, handing it back to me. “I’m sorry,” she says, wiping at her eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t cry.”
I pull her into a hug. “It’s okay. You know I’ll call. When I’m not studying, of course.”
“Of course,” she sniffles the last tears away.
We go back to the boxes in the pickup truck. I carry two large ones, stacked on top of each other, through the front doors of Chamberlain Hall. I say goodbye to my mom, with a final hug, and start getting the room in order.
An hour later my phone rings. I figure it’s my Mom, calling to check in on me already.
I’m laughing when I say, “Paul Fitzroy’s dorm!”
The voice on the other line does not laugh back. “Is this Mr. Fitzroy?”
“Yes, why?”
“This is Officer Tom Williston, with the state police. I’m afraid I have some bad news to share. Your mother had an accident.”
41
WHEN THE VISION ENDS, Emma and my Mom still stand by my sides before the signal fire at the top of the Red Tower. It has grown dark outside, but the fire shows an immense, dark shape perched on the parapet across from us. The yellow slitted eyes, large as I am, do not frighten me as they once did. Rahab stands beside Behemoth, hand on its neck. They seem to have hardly moved.
“Come,” Rahab says. “Tell us what you’ve seen.”
Neither Emma nor my Mom hesitate. They move around the fire toward Rahab. I follow them, still disturbed by the memory.
“It was my son!” Emma says, stopping in front of Rahab and sounding as happy as I’ve ever heard her. “Oliver lived!”
Oliver Chamberlain. Emma had told me before, in the Blue Tower, that she was the daughter of Chamberlain. And her son’s name in a vision was Oliver. She thought he had died in that hut with the man she had run away with. What she saw must have changed that. But how can she know which vision was right. “How do you know what happened to him?” I ask.
“I was with you!” Emma says excitedly. “The man on the plaque, at that building. He was my son, Oliver!”
She saw my vision. This is a first.
“Yes,” Behemoth rumbles. “He is here.” The creature fixes its eyes on Rahab, as if waiting for her to speak.
“You have much more to see,” Rahab says to Emma. “As do you, Dr. Fitzroy.” She turns to my Mom. “But you have now seen all.”
“You know the end,” Behemoth rumbles in agreement.
My Mom nods. Her serene face reflects the firelight so brightly that it almost shines. “I am ready,” she says.
“Ready for what?” I ask.
She takes my hand and squeezes it tight. Up close, her face truly shines. It’s not just a reflection. It’s like there’s light within her, blazing through the seams.
“Oh Paul, my little Paul,” she says. “You will learn when you are ready. Thank you for finding me. Thank you for everything.”
I smile. She knows me. She’s back. “How much do you remember?” I ask.
“Everything, Paul. Everything.”
Everything? How is that possible? She looked into the fire barely longer than I did. “What did you see?” I ask.
“I was with you, of course,” she says. “Moving you into college, into your new life. And then I drove away, thinking of how everything had led to that point and the miracle of it. All at once I knew my story. Even the ending.” She hugs me, then steps away. “I’m sorry I cannot tell you more. It’s not so different than in the memory. You have to find your own way, as I go mine. But I would not have made it here without you. Thank you, Paul. I love you. I will see you again.”
Without waiting for me to respond, she moves straight to Behemoth. A trail of light follows her as she goes, like the tail of a comet. What is happening to her?
“Wait,” I say.
But she doesn’t pause. In one smooth motion the creature dips its neck, and she climbs on. Behemoth’s immense wings expand and flap. Wind gusts, and the two of them soar up, straight up. Suddenly, Behemoth reverses course and turns down. It flies like a dagger toward us. It dives right past us, into the fire.
And then it’s gone. My Mom’s gone.
My mouth hangs open. I try to ask a question, but I’m dumbfounded. How did they fit? Where are they going?
Rahab lifts my chin with the tip of her red-lacquered nail, as she has done many times before. She smiles warm
ly at me. “Rose is safe. You will see her tomorrow, briefly. She will be with you in the Scouring.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I’m afraid you will have to trust us,” Rahab says. “And if you love your mother, you will do whatever you can to get her to the center of the Scouring.”
“Why?” I ask.
“I think you know,” she says. “Now, you must come to the Feasting Hall. The Red Tower awaits you.” Rahab does not give me a chance to say another word, as she bursts into flame and disappears.
I stand in shock. It has all happened too fast. The retreat from Black, the vision in the fire, my Mom and Behemoth flying into the fire.
“Cipher,” Emma says gently, coming to my side. It’s just the two of us now. The fire lights up her face as she studies me. “You’ve never felt...like this.”
“I know.” She’s right. There’s so much confusion. But there’s also...hope.
Emma smiles. “You have good reasons. You don’t want to lose her.”
“Do you really think she’ll go to the White Tower? How could she be ready?”
“I don’t think we’re supposed to know,” Emma says. “It’s her story. We should be happy for her.”
“I am. I mean...if you’re right.”
Emma sits back on the parapet. “Your mother had been here a long time. Rahab and Behemoth said she’d seen everything, even the end.”
She had an accident. That’s what the officer told me in the memory. That’s how I learned that my Mom died. Maybe she saw herself driving away in that blue pickup truck...then crashing...then dying.
“If you’re right,” I say, “why wouldn’t my Mom have just told us?”
“You saw her. She changed,” Emma says. “It was like she saw everything differently. Maybe she found a missing puzzle piece. I think I found one of my own.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think we all started with the same vision, at that college building, but then we each went our own direction. When you were walking into the building, carrying two boxes, my vision froze on the portrait of my son, and then everything shifted. I still saw the plaque, but I saw through my son’s own eyes. He was reviewing it, approving it, after he had decided to establish the school. He had the most lovely woman by his side, and would you believe it, two beautiful daughters!”
“You were a grandmother?” I say.
“Maybe, but I don’t know if I lived to see them. I don’t know how it ended for me. That might be what it takes to get into the White Tower.”
“We have to learn how we died...”
“Yes,” Emma says, “but until then, we have to press ahead with what we know. Now I know about my son, Oliver. I have to find him.”
“I understand. That’s how I felt when I learned that my Mom was here.”
“People from our pasts must come here for a reason,” Emma says. “There are brothers and sisters, like Jafari and Jacana. You have your Mom and Samantha. Now I have my son and...” She stops as if catching herself.
“And someone else?” I ask.
Emma gazes out toward the Scouring. “I haven’t talked about this much.”
“You can tell me.”
“Do you remember, when we were in Blue, how we sailed to the Yellow Tower’s land?” she asks. “And what happened when we reached the walls?”
“Of course,” I say. “You shouted to the archers on the wall that you were the daughter of Chamberlain. They still wouldn’t let us in. They shot me in the leg!”
Emma laughs. “I healed it. But I couldn’t heal what it did to me. Those archers’ words hurt more than arrows, because...my father is there.”
“Your father? In Yellow?”
“He’s a leader there, or he was,” Emma says. “Not like Rahab, or Abram. But like the Alpha, except in Yellow’s way.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I ask.
“A lot has changed since you first brought me to Blue, Cipher.” She sighs and leans her head on my shoulder, a perfect fit.
I don’t need to respond. She knows how I feel. There’s no anger or disappointment about her hiding that her father is here. She needed time. She needed to trust me. And now we’re together. It feels right. I don’t want her to ever budge. I put my arms around her as we sit quietly by the fire. There are so many things I want to ask her—about her father, her son, the Yellow Tower, and us. But I wait. She doesn’t need more questions now. Neither do I.
Eventually Emma breaks the silence. “I think someday I might go back to Yellow,” she says softly. “But not until I find Oliver. He was not there. You saw the plaque. He was a very wealthy man. I have a feeling he’s...with Green.”
“Why?” I ask, thinking of Hank. He was captured by Green. If going there has something to do with being wealthy, Hank would not seem to fit. From what he told me, he had hardly more than a horse and a pair of boots.
“I talked to one of the girls, Zelle,” Emma says. “A memory showed her that she was in Green before coming to Red. The memory had to do with buying lots of things. Especially wine. She was rich. She did not sound happy about it. So, well...I just have a feeling.”
“But it’s only a guess,” I say. “Would you really go to Green?”
“I’m not sure. Don’t worry,” she smiles, “I won’t go without you. We’ve learned what happens when you go off alone, haven’t we?”
Her steady blue eyes and gentle smile lift my spirit. She knows what I have done, both here and before, and yet she is still by my side. I’m not worthy of such a friend. “It was a mistake,” I say. “I know that now. I’m sorry I left you.”
“No need to feel bad,” she replies. “But, from here on, let’s stay together, okay?”
Stay together. It makes me think of my wife, and of Samantha—the rowing tryout in Chicago, the hotel in Toronto, and the sidewalk covered in rainy petals. The memories do not hurt as they once did. Gaps remain, but what I’ve seen in the Red Tower’s fires has prepared me for this moment. Sitting with Emma, paired with her, I understand. I meet her eyes. “We are better that way.”
“You’re learning!” she says, laughing lightly and rising to her feet. “Let’s head to the Feasting Hall. The tower will want to see its leader before the Scouring.”
42
THE SOUND OF CHANTING surrounds us the moment the doors to the Feasting Hall open. “Alpha, Alpha, Alpha!” It takes my breath away. Fires suspended in midair make the cavernous room glow every hue of red. Deep, steady drumbeats make the Hall pulse with energy.
Rahab leads Emma and me through the crowd. Familiar faces watch us pass. They are smiling, cheering. A few of them pat me on the back or clasp my hand, as if I’m some kind of returning hero.
Seymour rushes up to me among the crowd. “Cipher, Cipher, I heard you captured someone from Black’s lands!” he says. “That’s amazing! You’re a legend! And hey, look, I got my first pair! She’s my sister!”
Beside him stands a girl who looks just like him—freckled and green-eyed and smiling. She was Axe’s servant with Emma. Hayley.
“I hoped you would find her,” I say.
“I’m starting to get memories back,” Hayley says. “Thanks for setting me free.”
“A million thanks!” Seymour says. “Now go on, go on!” He nudges me forward. “The throne is waiting for you.”
At the front of the Feasting Hall our Scouring group is gathered in pairs—Marcus and Boleyn, Jafari and Jacana, Khan and Apple, Seth and Zelle. Hank is gone. After we lost him and Seth’s old pair, Zelle chose Seth. Despite the changes and those we’re missing, it’s good to be with these friends, to know something of their pasts, for them to know something of mine, and for us to fight on together.
I take the throne beside Rahab. The chanting fades as food is served. Bowls of bacon and beans. Rahab announces that the Scouring will be tomorrow, and new tasks have been assigned. The crowd goes to check the board, to find their number. It reminds me of my first night here, meeting Seymour and Ma
rcus and getting task seventeen—dragon teeth. Tonight that task does not appear. Maybe it won’t as long as Red is above its equilibrium number, with more than 144 of us here.
The Scouring group gathers as usual. A boy joins us and introduces himself as Monk. He says he worked his way up slowly through the ranks in Red. He’s quiet and not much bigger than I am. He will probably pair with my Mom, if she shows up tomorrow. They’re the only two left unpaired. She must be coming, somehow. Rahab told me to do whatever I could to get her into the center of the Scouring. I have to try.
The group wants to hear about our journey to the Black Tower. Emma does most of the talking, holding the group’s attention. She stops the story with our return to the top of the Red Tower. She does not mention what we saw in the fire, or what happened to my Mom. I don’t know how we could explain it anyway.
We descend the stairs to the Arena. My Mom still has not appeared. A new girl performs. She’s good, drawing a dozen boys to drop to the sandy floor and race for her. When the competition ends, the boys leave for the Barracks, the girls for their rooms, and me for the Alpha’s quarters.
Sleep takes me to dreams. I sit in a boat with Samantha. She watches me row. At first we wear the uniforms from our high school team. Then our clothes shift. She wears a nurse’s scrubs, while I wear my white doctor’s coat. Still I row. We pass over Lake Michigan and into a flooded forest. We get lost among huge trees. Samantha studies me silently, judging me, never looking away, as we go deeper and deeper into the forest’s darkness. I wake up sweating in a pile of furs.
The next morning I make my way down through the Red Tower, joining with Emma and others along the way. Apple gives me an encouraging smile. Marcus, Seth, Khan, and Jafari each give me a friendly slap on the back. They know I’m ready, just as I know they’re ready. We’ve been winning this battle for a while now.
When we reach the gate to the Scouring, Rahab and my Mom are waiting with their backs to us, looking toward the familiar, empty battleground. My Mom wears a red dress like the other girls from Red, but her skin glows like she can’t contain some source of light inside of her.
The Red Tower (The Five Towers Book 2) Page 21
