Rise of the Mystics

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Rise of the Mystics Page 28

by Ted Dekker


  I felt a sudden surge of power in the hand he gripped. It rushed down my arm like an electric current.

  “When you surrender your faith in the storm, you’ll find faith in Justin. When you forgive the world, you find it forgiven. You see it as powerless to do any more than smash your earthen vessel to bits so you can get on with life in another dimension!”

  I could hardly fathom his utter lack of concern. But of course. He suffered no anxiety over his body or the storm. He’d let his attachment to this world go.

  “Forgive the storm, daughter! Let go of your old sight and see what I see!”

  Forgiveness was letting go of the perception of wrongs. It activated a love that held no record of wrong. Talya was seeing in the power of love, but I was in the power of fear.

  Two masters.

  “Yes, 49th! Yes, shout it. Shout it with me. I release all of my clinging to my boat!”

  “I release all of my clinging to my boat,” I cried above the thunder.

  “I don’t care if I’m white or black or Albino or Scab!”

  “I don’t care if I’m white or black or Albino or Scab!” I shouted, louder now.

  “I lift my eyes to see that I am light in the kingdom that is here!”

  “I lift my eyes to see that I am light in the kingdom that is here!”

  He leaned back and roared at the dark skies, “Inchristi is all!”

  I blinked. “Inchristi is all!”

  A hot fist of power filled my belly and rose to my throat. I suddenly knew more, and I hurled that knowing at the sky.

  “Inchristi is me!” I cried with all my strength. And then I cried more of my own making, fueled by all I had learned. “I am the light of the world! I am the daughter of my Father! I am known by Elyon and one with Justin, riding the storms of this world to know myself beyond the knowledge of good and evil! I am love! I am love! I am love!”

  The moment I cried those last words, my view of the world shifted. I could still see the storm, but now I saw the water was made of bands of energy, yellow and red, flowing innocently. The boat, like my body, was made of a billion bits of information, held together by my sight of it.

  I felt as though I was standing on nothing, and I knew in that moment I could easily step out of the boat and walk on what I thought of as water.

  Talya leaned back, chin held high, and began to laugh. I caught his delight and giggled. Our earthen vessels were a tall man with a gray beard and a small woman with diseased skin, and we laughed at the storm pounding our boat.

  The fear I’d felt was gone. Entirely. And with it, the entire matrix that supported fear. Grievance. Defense. Judgment. Punishment. I’d surrendered them all.

  All the things I thought I should have to keep me safe in this life suddenly felt like clay masks. Everything my earthen vessel insisted should give it value had only been clay pies.

  But I was the daughter of my Father, who’d given me all that was his. I was like the bird who’d escaped from the dark room and was now flying free.

  In that moment, I saw all things as made new.5

  And I knew that I was being Inchristi.

  Then I was laughing with Talya. Face lifted into the wind, screaming my delight at the dark skies. I was laughing and he was singing that high note he often sang when he practiced his metanoia. Singing it with pursed lips now as if to mock the storm with such a simple, pure tone.

  Truly, I didn’t care whether the storm smashed me to a million pieces or not.

  With that single realization, light blinded me in a brilliant flash. Just one massive, hot ball of light that vanished as quickly as it had flared.

  I gasped.

  The boat slapped back down, but this time there was nothing to raise it up. The water was calm, like glass. The sky was blue, streaked with ribbons of gold and purple.

  A soft hum laced with faint, beautiful long notes filled the sky. Not just the sky—my very frame seemed to resonate with those tones so that my fingers buzzed. The sounds were coming from me as much as to me, and I knew immediately that they had always been there to hear. I just now had the ears to hear them.

  I glanced down and saw that my skin was smooth. Smooth! Free of the condition others called the scabbing disease.

  I was Albino once more and I didn’t care. I was seeing what had always been here to see, beyond all I had once grasped to define me.

  Lifting my eyes, I stared around, stunned. No shore that I could see. No wind to push us toward one, though we were moving quickly.

  Talya drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Well, well, now that was fun, wasn’t it? Welcome to the way of Justin, maestro of all Mystics.” He patted my hand and stepped down from the bow. “The Fourth Seal awaits. Time is short.”

  What is seeing beyond what you think should be?

  “I . . . I think I know what the Fourth Seal is.” I was still reeling from the power that had flooded my veins.

  “But does she?”

  She. Rachelle, who was lost on Earth, blinded by the shadow named Vlad. She had to find the Fourth Seal there. Meaning, I had to. She who was me but didn’t know it.

  “So we go to Thomas, who lends a hand,” he said.

  “Thomas . . .”

  “Yes, Thomas.” Talya shoved his chin at the far horizon. “We will find him on the other side of this lake.”

  26

  THREE HOURS passed before the door to Karen’s office opened again. In its frame stood Vlad Smith, dressed in black, grinning wide.

  I hated black. I hated his smile. I hated everything about him in every way. I always had, but now much more than before because Steve had helped me dig deep over the last hour.

  Steve asked me to trust him and I did, letting him explain how everything vile and ugly in the world was Vlad’s fault. That’s how he put it and that’s how I dug deep.

  At Steve’s urging, I looked at Gracie and imagined her being abused and crushed by a ruthless master, and that master was Vlad.

  Fear him. Hate him. Despise him. I did, and it was easy.

  He talked about all the innocent people being killed in my name. Each church bombing, tearing limb from limb—thousands of unsuspecting children being burned by the explosions. That was Vlad.

  Fear him. Hate him. Despise him.

  He talked about cancer and death, a mother’s loss of her child, a lover’s loss of her husband, a mother’s son being seduced into drug abuse, a woman being captured into slavery. All of them Vlad’s fault, Steve said.

  Fear him. Hate him. Despise him.

  I did it all and it made me sick, because all the stories he told me were like new to my naïve mind. Fear and hatred were the only way, Steve said. All I had to do was hide them from Vlad until the right moment.

  My face was sweating and my hands were shaking when Vlad stepped into the office, and it was all I could do not to scream at him.

  I hated the way he walked, strutting in those black boots. I hated black boots. I hated boots. I could smell his cologne, a spice of some kind, and I hated all spicy-smelling cologne.

  That’s how much I hated Vlad. It didn’t matter that I was going way overboard, because that was the point.

  His right brow arched. “So, have we been sharing secrets? Trying to figure out a way to kill big bad Vlad?”

  He knew? But of course he would. I glanced at the others, all staring at him, uncertain and on guard.

  “I’ve made my decision,” I said.

  “I can see that. Tell me . . .” He hooked his thumbs into his belt. “How does it feel to trust me? Because once you go there, it’s mighty hard to come back.”

  “I don’t trust you,” I snapped. Then tried to soften my voice. “I’m only doing what I have to do to survive.”

  “Exactly. I asked you to embrace your fear, which you’ve done. So you see, you have put your faith in me because you know I’m right.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “No? Don’t you know that anger is ju
st fear of loss, a fear so deep that it manifests as an emotion you feel? If you’re angry at me, it’s only because you fear what I can do to you or to things you care about.”

  I knew he was right. There was nothing I could do about it now. So he knew, so what?

  “My point is, you should trust in me. Anger is a good thing, sweet pea.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “That’s it. Feel that resentment. Let it run deep, 49th. It’s the only thing that will save you in this life. It’s what God uses to save himself and those he loves. Anger, frustration, bitterness, hatred.” He spread his arms wide. “Fear! It’s all fear, and only fear works.”

  His voice echoed in the hardwood office. He lowered his arms.

  “Now, let’s use some, shall we? Show me what you’ve learned.”

  He stepped up to me, grabbed my shirt, and jerked me forward. Snapped the handcuffs without using a key, maybe just to show me his strength. But I’d already figured he was too strong for me. I’d have to take him completely off guard or use a weapon, and even then I wasn’t sure I was fast or strong enough.

  He lifted me clean off the ground and plopped me down on my feet, a handcuff dangling from each wrist. Then tossed me the key as he turned his back.

  “Pick up the knife. Kill the girl.”

  It was strange, because I was sure he knew my intentions but he seemed unconcerned. Strange also because I didn’t care that he knew my intentions. I was too angry to care.

  I quickly released the cuffs from my wrists, stepped over to the knife, and scooped it up. When I turned back, he was standing by the door facing me, hands on his hips.

  “Be careful now. Anger can mess with your aim until you learn to control it. Or do you just want to do it up close and personal? Get some blood on your hands.” He winked.

  My hands were shaking, no hiding that, but I didn’t care. Nor did I care that he was goading me, daring me to go after him now that I held a knife.

  Neither Steve nor Karen made a move. Gracie sat with wide eyes despite my repeated assurances that I wouldn’t touch her.

  It was now up to me, and me alone.

  I started to turn toward Gracie because that was my plan—fake like I was going after her, then switch to Vlad as quick as a viper.

  “Try her eyes, 49th,” he growled. “She’s already blind like the rest of the world. Might as well make it obvious. Make her blind like you.”

  Something in me snapped when he said “blind like you”—a hidden memory that exploded in my mind. I was spinning toward him before I knew what I was doing. My hand was already moving with lightning speed.

  Then the knife was streaking toward him like a bullet, straight for his right eye with razor-sharp precision.

  But I chased the blade while it flew because I already knew he was as fast as me, and he proved it by catching the knife an inch from his eye.

  I was halfway to him, moving with an ancient instinct that told me to go high and low at once. Me high and to his left; the desk low and to his right. A distraction, that’s all I needed. Just a momentary shift in his focus.

  Screaming full-throated, I launched myself at him five feet off the ground, intending to claw at his face. His eyes widened as my hand flashed for them, and he turned on the balls of his feet to avoid me. Still, my nails slashed across his cheek as I spun to his left, still airborne.

  But none of that mattered, because without thinking about what I could or could not do, I had already elevated the desk behind us an inch off the ground and sent it toward the bookcase using thought alone.

  With a bone-smashing crunch, the corner of the huge desk narrowly missed me and slammed into Vlad with enough force to easily crush any man, pinning him against the bookcase, which shattered behind him.

  It wasn’t enough to kill him, I knew that. But the knife in his hand was.

  Landing on both feet beside him, I snatched the knife from his hand and slammed it into his left eye, wide in shock.

  All of this in the space of three seconds.

  Vlad’s body jerked once, then turned to coils of black fog, leaving a mess of fallen books and broken shelves piled on the desk.

  The knife dropped to the desk, flipped over the edge, and clattered on the floor.

  I stood in a crouch, breathing hard, stunned it had worked. I spun to Steve, who looked as shocked as Vlad had in that last moment.

  “Like that?” I asked.

  “Like that,” he whispered.

  “How . . .” Karen gaped at the desk, then at me. “You did that?”

  I looked back at the desk. I had, and now I could hardly believe it.

  “Cut us free,” Steve said. “Hurry!”

  I bounded to the knife, snatched it up, and cut Steve free, then Karen. Then Gracie, pulling her little form into my arms. “It’s okay now, Gracie. We’ll find your mother, I promise.”

  She was moving toward the door before I released her, and I let her go.

  “Mama!”

  “In the apartment at the end of the hall!” Karen said, hurrying after her.

  We ran down the hall, following Gracie’s slapping feet. The apartment door was still open the way Gracie had left it, searching for her mother. Lights still on.

  She raced into a room on the right. Anika’s bedroom. Pulled up sharply, eyes on the tossed sheets. The bed was empty.

  “Mama?”

  Silence.

  I leaped to the closet and threw the doors wide. There, bound and gagged, lay Anika, staring up at me.

  “Anika!” Karen brushed past me and fell to her knees, pulling at the twine binding the woman’s ankles and wrists. The moment her gag came off, Anika was reaching for her daughter, who threw herself into her mother’s arms.

  “Gracie! Oh, my dear little sweetheart. There, there, it’s okay.” She smoothed her daughter’s hair as Gracie wept into her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mother is here. We’re safe. You’re such a brave little girl.”

  For a few breaths, Karen, Steve and I just watched them.

  The sight filled me with a terrible loneliness. I didn’t like feeling fear. I didn’t like embracing anger. I didn’t like being all alone without a father. I didn’t like not knowing who I really was.

  “Let’s give them a moment,” Karen was saying. I headed back into the hall, suddenly exhausted and overwhelmed.

  I didn’t even like that I’d killed Vlad so easily, because that had to mean something was wrong, and I didn’t like not knowing what was wrong.

  The moment Steve stepped out of the maid’s quarters I turned and fell into his arms, hugging him tight.

  “You did well, Rachelle. I’m so proud of you.”

  With those words a waterfall of relief cascaded over me, washing away all of my hatred. I couldn’t stop the tears that sprang from my eyes. It was as if someone had pulled the plug on a whole life’s worth of rage.

  I was free. We were safe.

  “It’s okay.” He kissed the top of my head. “We’re going to figure this out. When the world finds out what’s really happening . . . Well, they won’t find out what’s really happening because they’re as blind as bats.”

  I heard Karen gasp behind me.

  I twisted my head. “Why, what’s happening?”

  Karen stood stock still, staring above my head.

  “I’m happening, darling,” Steve said, only it wasn’t his voice.

  I turned back, arms still around his waist. Around Vlad’s waist. Steve was Vlad. He’d changed while he held me. Vlad!

  I jumped back, horrified. Then who was the other Vlad I’d killed? Where was Steve?

  “You see, 49th,” he said with a daring grin. “The only thing you can trust is fear. And I am he.”

  His hand flashed and hit the switch on the wall, plunging the hall into darkness. I stood breathless, frozen to the floor.

  I could hear Karen breathing hard. Little Gracie talking excitedly to her mother, her crying done. Anika’s warm soothing voice as she comforted her da
ughter. My heart pounding.

  Karen hurried to the switch and turned the lights back on, gawking down the empty hall. Vlad was gone.

  I knew then that the Vlad I’d killed in the office was one of the Leedhan posing as Vlad. The real Vlad had been Steve, at least since . . .

  “The cabin!” I cried, spinning to Karen. “Steve’s at the cabin!”

  She was still staring down the hall, dazed.

  I grabbed her hand. “You have to help me! We have to get back to the cabin!”

  “How can you know? I don’t understand how . . .”

  “Vlad’s a shape-shifter!” I tugged at her arm, pulling her down the hall. “I know it happened at the cabin, because after that night Steve started talking about me embracing fear.”

  “But we should embrace fear. Without it, you burn your hand in the fire.”

  She was right and I was in fear, desperate to save Steve, who was still the only person alive who understood me. She was right, but that’s what Vlad wanted me to think, so it must also be wrong. Maybe there were different kinds of fear.

  “Hold on.” Karen pulled up halfway down the hall. “It’s four in the morning. Are you sure Steve’s at the cabin? How far is it?”

  “He has to be! A couple of hours. Steve, I mean Vlad who was Steve, programmed it into the car. You see what’s happening, right? Vlad’s using you!” I wondered briefly if Vlad had become her when the lights went out. No, he wouldn’t have had time to get rid of the real Karen. This Karen.

  I could see the wheels spinning behind her eyes as she tried to come to grips with everything that had happened.

  “Please, I’m begging you. Just get me back to the cabin. Steve’ll know what to do. If you don’t figure this out, Vlad’s going to destroy us all.”

  Eyes on me. “You’re right.” A beat. “I’ll drive.”

  THERE WAS no traffic so we drove fast, faster than I knew the car could go. It occurred to me that by taking Karen back to the cabin, I was showing her my only hiding place, but I had no one else to trust. And the more we talked, the more I trusted her.

  She was just another person in the world doing what she thought was best to help others in her own way. That’s what I saw. She’d been wrong, but then so was everyone else, including me.

 

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