Repulsed, Lilly dropped the mirror onto her lap. The surface returned to cloudy gray as she retched. Could this be the truth of her being? Was she at the core an evil monster?
Again she picked it up and placed her thumb on the stone. Again it drew blood, but this time she didn’t care. She scrutinized the surface as it changed, but if anything it was even worse: a screaming accusation declaring she was worthless, nothing but damaged goods, irreparable and infected, a tease, a whore, a fake. Her mask had been removed to reveal the disease that was beneath. She felt horrified, utterly undone, and worst, exposed. Lilly screamed and screamed into her pillow until she again regained some semblance of control.
Jamming the mirror into its cover, she threw it back into the dresser, waiting until the sack disappeared before slamming it shut.
Lilly washed her face, then rolled her chair into the receiving room, grateful it was empty. For a moment she sat looking down through the window, the bright and cheerful world turned into mockery by the storms within. The urge to throw herself out was compelling. Would Adonai catch her if she fell? Would he even notice? The only reason anyone had ever showed care for her was because they needed something or she had completely fooled them. If they knew the truth . . .
But John had showed her how this window worked. It was covered not by glass but by flexible filaments, which like a balloon, resisted with increased pressure. It offered no way out. However, the Castle Patio had no such barriers and for a moment Lilly imagined throwing herself over its railing.
But John told her something else and with the simple touch of a button, she reversed the window to a full-length mirror. Lilly examined her reflection carefully. She had to look more intently, but this one also revealed the same truth as Simon’s gift. Her eyes were too far apart, her nose too wide, her skin too blemished, her frame too skinny, and on and on. She mentally cataloged each flaw. Here was evidence of what had already been revealed. She was worthy of nothing but self-loathing.
Hearing a sound behind her, she quickly transformed the mirror back into a window.
It was Simon.
“I came to see if you were all right.” His calm voice held enough concern to invite her into conversation.
“I looked in the mirror, Simon,” she blurted. “I hate what I saw.”
“I am sorry.” Walking over to her, he put his hand on her shoulder. Lilly pulled away, disgusted by herself. “I tried to warn you that what you would see might be painful.”
“It was way beyond painful. It was horrid and disgusting,” Lilly muttered. “I am a monster.”
“Lilith,” he began, drawing up a nearby chair to sit next to her. “What you saw is the truth of your being and why God has chosen you to be the Witness. It is because of who you are that you are uniquely qualified for God’s purpose.”
“Uniquely damaged,” she retorted, to which he offered no response. “Am I supposed to be grateful, or honored, because I am the perfect piece of crap that God can use? Frankly, I think I am done with being used, by God or anyone.”
Simon was quiet for a moment. “Then take control of your own destiny. Make your own choices. Change history. If for no one else, do it for yourself. I believe you are the one we have been waiting for, the one who can change Beginnings.”
“How can I change Beginnings? I barely have control over my own body.” Lilly was infuriated and despairing. The day had barely dawned and she already felt exhausted. Her arm was burning almost to her elbow.
“As the Witness, you can change Beginnings. You must stop Adam!”
“Stop Adam?” she snapped. “From what?”
“Through one man, Adam, sin entered the world.” He sounded as if he was quoting something she should have known. “You must stop Adam from turning.”
“Stop Adam from turning?” She shook her head. “It’s too late.”
“What?” Simon looked shocked. “Too late?”
“There you are!” Anita entered the receiving room from the direction of Lilly’s room. Simon quickly removed his hand and stood. “Lilly, I was looking for you, but it seems you are already in good hands.”
“Seems everyone finds me eventually.” Lilly was relieved by the diversion but couldn’t muster a smile.
“Clever girl.” Anita chuckled. “John told us we need to proceed quickly to the Vault, and I wanted to make sure you are able. Simon, John has asked if you would also go with us.”
“Of course. I would be honored.” He paused. “If that is all right with you, young woman?”
She nodded without looking at him.
“We would welcome the company.” Anita turned to the girl. “Lilly, let’s get you some food. How do you feel? John told me about the attack.”
“Not the best, but I’m ready to get out of that snake’s range.”
“Understandably! Those creatures have always disturbed me.” With that Anita wheeled Lilly toward the kitchen, leaving Simon looking out the window.
• • •
“I’VE EATEN ENOUGH,” LILLY declared, pushing herself back from the table. The Scholars too had eaten their fill and wiped their chins, satisfied. John was lost in thought, his food untouched.
“You worried about something?” Lilly asked him as the others cleared the table.
“Worried is probably not the right word. Concerned. A little anxious, as if there is something tugging at the corners of my thoughts but I can’t quite pull it from the shadows. I have never been one who liked hidden things.”
“Should I be worried?” she asked.
“Not at all.” He smiled. “I doubt this is about you, at least not directly. I think it has more to do with my own choices regarding trust.”
“Trust? You?” she punched his arm lightly, wishing he would snap out of his mood and cheer her up. “Do you trust me, Finder?”
“Completely!” The simple declaration surprised her and slipped past her inner guard.
“Why?” she asked.
John looked into her eyes. “Because of who you are.”
Her efforts at lightheartedness vanished. “I’m a piece of trash that washed up on your beach.”
“No.” John looked her in the eyes. “I’m not talking about who you think you are, but who you truly are.”
I know who I am, she thought. Would John trust her if he knew the secrets she was keeping? She felt caught in the crossfire between hidden things and her sense of integrity.
It was Gerald who unwittingly interrupted her from blurting out secrets. “So we’re off to the Vault, not the Library?” He sounded a bit disappointed.
“The Library will have to wait for another time,” said John.
“Where exactly is this Vault?” asked Lilly.
“Down in the depths of the Refuge, beneath the ocean’s surface,” replied John. “It will take only a couple of hours to descend, but once there, we’ll stay. It has sleeping rooms and all the amenities we need.”
“How long are we going to be there?”
“As long as it takes. At least a few days would be my guess,” responded John. “Until we are certain the Refuge is safe. The Vault is where you’ll experience and record what you witness.” Then he chuckled. “Once you get there, you might want to move in permanently. It’s that sort of place.”
“Let’s do it,” agreed Anita, and the other Scholars nodded.
They dispersed to their rooms to gather a few things, putting them into travel sacks. Lilly didn’t have much, some clothing and toiletries, her diary and stylus, and of course, the mirror. She wondered if her key and Betrothal ring might have been shuffled to the corners but didn’t have the courage to run her hand into the shadows. John said they were gone, and she felt their loss more acutely than expected, as if the fault were hers. Maybe it was.
She took a moment to write a quick entry in her journal.
I don’t even want to write about what I saw in Simon’s mirror. I can’t. John, Anita, Gerald, Simon, and I are about to go down to the mysterious Vault. From what
John told me, Letty showed up last night and saved me from the snake. I feel safer when she’s around, even as grumpy as she can be at times. My arm really hurts where I got bit, but it seems I am the only one who can see it. We’re in a hurry to get to the Vault because John believes me. Maybe that’s not true either.
I’m scared about the Vault, maybe because I haven’t told anyone my secrets, not even Simon. What will happen when they find out I’ve already been Witnessing? Will I mess up the process? Why can’t I tell? John says he trusts me, and I don’t think he’s lying. But I’m good at fooling people. That’s what liars do. Gotta go.
Ten
* * *
THE DESCENT
John led the way down multiple ramps, the hallways narrowing, the blue iridescence brighter, the crash of sea on sand eventually above them, sometimes distant and occasionally disappearing. Simon volunteered to push Lilly’s chair, and she enjoyed his close proximity.
As they descended, Lilly peppered the others with a barrage of questions. The Scholars seemed to love this. Unlike John, who seemed to hold ideas lightly with open hands, the Scholars had a certainty in their perspectives about most things. And when they didn’t, they seemed eager to find one.
“We are now into the storage levels,” John announced as they passed a webbing of halls. “This is where we keep the things that wash up on the shore, including yours, Lilly. You arrived on the eleventh day of the first month, and because we thought from the records that you were most likely fifteen years old, the number of your chamber is one-eleven-fifteen. Simple to remember. We took an impression of your hand so only you or a Collector could open it.”
It was a vast labyrinth of passageways and catacombs. Lilly didn’t want to think about the mass of rock and ocean above her, which only increased as they descended. The passageway filled with echoes of their footfalls, and distant thunderous booms of surf on land still occasionally reverberated. Air flowed clear and clean, but that didn’t lessen the sense of oppression hovering over Lilly.
“Tell me again what the Ages of Beginnings are?”
Gerald answered. “The term refers to events surrounding the Creation, primarily first things and first times. The roots of everything that exists today and—”
“Wait. Was there a before the Beginning?”
“Of course! If there was not a before the Beginning, there could never have been a Beginning.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” she said. “I just always thought the world exploded out of nothing.”
“Not even nonsense could explode from nothing. Nothing can’t create something, or anything.” Gerald raised his eyebrows. “No thing would be no energy, no time, no space, no information. Nothing. Since you are Witness of Beginnings—”
“It’s all too big for me.” She sighed. “I don’t understand and I feel foolish.”
Anita laughed. “It is too big, for all of us. It seems that even the foolishness of God builds extraordinary purpose into the ordinary. Miraculous and mysterious.”
“In my case, ordinary would be an improvement,” Lilly muttered.
“Truth be told, dear one,” Anita responded, “no human is ordinary.”
By the next break and rest, Lilly had formed another question.
“So, the something that created the world—that was God?”
“Yes,” answered John. “Creation was crafted inside God. Specifically, inside a Someone, Adonai.”
Her mind made a connection and it escaped her mouth before she could stop it. “You mean Eternal Man, right?”
Four shocked expressions turned toward her. “Uh, I must have heard that or read about it somewhere. I think we should go.”
Anita gave her a quick hug before they all headed down another set of ramps. Leaning in, she whispered, chuckling, “My dear, that was a surprise. Eternal Man, indeed! What else are you not telling us?”
Ignoring the comment, Lilly asked another question. “So God created Adam in Adonai. Does that mean that man was made inside Eternal Man?”
“Created and birthed,” offered Anita. “To say God gave birth would probably be more appropriate.”
“So you knew Adam was a baby?” she asked.
“Knew? Of course Adam was a baby, why would he be otherwise?”
“I thought God created him, you know, a full-grown man.”
Her companions laughed.
“Mythology is responsible for many odd ideas,” mumbled Gerald. “Did your Storytellers think that Adam was created as a young man with no capacity, a brute ready to be programmed?”
It sounded silly to her now and she quickly asked another question. “If he was just a baby, what did They feed him?”
“What you feed any baby,” responded Anita. “Adonai nursed him, of course! If God could birth a baby, you think They couldn’t feed him? The very reality of nursing an infant had to originate in God’s being, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so, but that would mean that Adonai has . . .”
“Breasts?” John finished her sentence. “Of course They have breasts, and full of milk according to the Scriptures. Mother’s milk.”
John underestimated the time it would take to descend with Lilly’s chair. Nearly three hours had passed before they arrived at a dead end, a wall of stone smooth as glass.
They all abruptly stopped except John, who didn’t hesitate. He walked straight into the wall and vanished.
“It’s an illusion.” His voice came from the other side. “Just act like it isn’t there. If you hesitate, it will hurt.”
“A little warning would have been nice,” retorted Lilly.
“I forgot. Old habits of solitude.”
Lilly found it difficult to ignore her perceptions. The roadblock looked impervious in spite of her seeing John walk right through it. When she reached out and touched it, it was firm and solid under her fingertips. She rapped on it, and the sound echoed down the corridor.
“That won’t help,” John called. “Hold on.” He reappeared right in front of her. “You’ll have to ignore it. We’re creatures of ‘seeing is believing,’ but after you’ve done it a time or two, it’s as easy as falling.”
She hesitated.
“Here, watch me,” offered Simon, who walked through the wall as if it were mist. The others followed him.
“Tell you what,” encouraged John, taking a kerchief from a pocket. “Let me tie this around your eyes, spin you about, and then at some point get you through the wall.”
It sounded like a good plan, but the thought of being blindfolded troubled her.
“Can I just cover my eyes with my hands?”
He returned the hankie to his pocket.
“Perfect,” he said. “As long as you keep your eyes shut tight. Even peeking a little might result in a bloody nose.”
“I promise.” She kept her word.
“Ready? Okay, now I’m spinning you round and round this way, and then round and round that way . . . and then I am going to push you a little ways back in this direction . . .”
Lilly felt a whoosh of wind skim her arms, and mist that wasn’t wet kissed her cheeks. She squealed as she opened her eyes to a hallway of mirrors—infinite reflections of herself and the others.
“That was kind of fun!” she yelped.
“I know!” he declared like a joyful child.
“Though you tricked me,” she accused, laughing.
“No tricks,” he said. “You can always trust me to do exactly what I say I’ll do.” He grinned at her.
A floor-to-ceiling mirror behind them marked the wall through which they had entered. More mirrors lined the entryway, and a large but cozy living space opened up before them. One side of the room was flanked by the ocean. Lights penetrated at least a hundred feet of water, enhancing corals, sea plants, and fish of every size, shape, and color. The membrane on this window space surely separated them from tons of pressure.
Lilly had no way of telling how deep they were beneath the surface, except that s
he could barely see shards of light reaching down from above.
“This is the Vault?” she asked. It was nothing she had expected.
“Not quite! These are the living quarters. The Vault is right down that hall at the other end of this suite.” John pointed. From where they stood they could see a massive door looming at the far end of a wide hall. “I’ll show you in the morning. For now, choose a room for sleeping. We’ll eat and rest today.”
There were about a dozen interconnected rooms here—sleeping, bathing, and sitting rooms, as well as a kitchen and a pantry.
Lilly noticed Gerald and Anita choosing their room together. As they disappeared, she grabbed John’s arm.
“Are they an item?”
“An item?” His perplexed frown was followed by a huge smile. “I suppose, if being married for many, many years qualifies as an item?”
“I had no idea. I thought that they were just friends and workmates. Married?”
“Lilly,” he said kindly, “from what I understand, married persons can actually be good friends, and some can even work together.”
“Have you ever been married?” Lilly asked.
“Me? No. I’ve befriended many women, all extraordinary and a few beastly, but marriage is not for me.”
“Beastly?” Lilly grinned.
He grunted, rolling his eyes. “One in particular, the most manipulative human being I ever met. Quite attractive, though, in a garish sort of way.” He let the distant memory take him for a moment. “But that, dear Lilly, is another story for another time. Go find a room that suits you. The item will be returning soon, and you can ask them all your questions about the mysteries of marriage.”
As she turned to wheel herself away, John stopped her. “How’s that arm?” he asked.
“It’s better,” she lied.
He nodded and they parted ways to settle into their rooms.
Lilly dropped her little knapsack in one with a bed and canopy. She hid the mirror in the dresser before returning to the central area. The three Scholars were waiting, and soon John joined them.
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