Sebastian poured some coffee while he spoke over his shoulder. “I worried about you last night. The way you stormed out of here I thought you’d never be back.” He offered her a cup, but she refused it.
“We have to talk.” She looked at the wall on the other side of the counter, the exact spot where she’d seen Janus vanish. “I’m not comfortable in this place right now.”
“We can go to the park. I think I owe you an explanation.”
“You think? That’s the understatement of the century.”
They drove to the park in Avy’s Jeep. She walked past the last place they had sat together. She wanted nothing to influence her emotions or the questions she had lined up for him. They took seats on the bank of a small side pond, where some ducks bobbed near the water’s edge. She looked out across the water, speaking to him in a monotone.
“You knew about Janus all along,” she said. “You kept that from me. What’s your connection with him? He’s not your everyday acquaintance.”
Sebastian threw a pebble in water. “It’s true. I guess I’ve known him ever since I can remember. He came to me when I was very small. I remember falling off my bicycle one day, hitting the pavement hard. It knocked the wind out of me. I was so stunned I couldn’t move. A truck raced around the corner, barreling down the street. I started to crawl out of the way, but I knew I wasn’t going to make it in time. The truck slammed on its brakes, going into a skid. A pair of strong arms yanked me to the curb while my bike took a full-on hit.” He paused for an uncomfortable moment. “My savior was a long-haired priest who came out of nowhere. It was Janus. He saved my life that day. That was the first time I shared some type of a bond with him.
“I never spoke about it to anyone. That included my parents who I figured would ground me for months and never let me ride my bike on the street again. I also thought it would betray the trust on a higher level. From the start, I just knew the obvious—that he was a priest. He started to come around more. I somehow knew that he was on a mission to help people. From what he told me, he could help people in some extraordinary ways. I witnessed a few of these heroic deeds later on. That’s about the time I got interested in magic. In fact, he supported the skill in me. It was our secret.”
“Did he ever ask you to do anything for him?”
“I volunteered a few times. He sent me on intelligence gathering missions. It always had something to do with a case or a prospect that he was working on. That’s what he does—he makes things right.” He looked at her.
“Did he ask you to get involved with me because I’m one of his prospects?”
“He asked, but at first I didn’t promise that I would get involved. I decided to help after I met you. If it had something to do with protecting you, well, I wanted to be a part of that. He told me you were in trouble. He asked if I could offer support. I swear, he just stressed the job factor. You needed work. I needed an assistant. He put us together. He just knows these things. I’ve been discovering the rest of your problems right along with you.”
“I don’t know why I believe that, but I’ll give you a pass. This guy has to be the same one my mother raved about while she was in prison. A handsome long-haired priest—that fits the description. He has to be the same person who appeared to her on death row. But there was no record of any unauthorized entry or visits into the prison. Chubby told me all of this. After what I saw last night, I’m positive we’re talking about the same person.”
“It’s more than possible he’s tied in with it. He’s talking about injustice, Avy, the righting of a wrong. He says you’re the vessel for this change.”
“He goes a lot further than that. According to him, I’m not even leading my own life. I am some kind of resurrection. I have to clear my mother’s name in order to stop some catastrophe. The way he says it, I am my mother—like some lost doppelganger. Talk about a double life!”
“You’re not the only one he's connected with. This has been going on for centuries. Not everyone gets a second chance. But it’s worse in this case because others are going to suffer or lose their lives. That's when he opens a war gate.”
“Then why doesn’t he stop it himself? If he can perform miracles why can’t he put an end to it?”
“He serves the part of a guide. He points the way, provides the tools to make things right. He can’t interfere in a direct way.”
“That’s pretty weird,” she said. “I’m willing to admit that if my mother was framed, in the name of justice something has to be done to clear her name. But why couldn’t he have teamed up with a real detective? Why am I the best one for the job?”
“Maybe you’re the only one for the job. I don’t think there’s anyone more qualified to follow up on this. It was a long time ago, but you’re tied into it through the bloodline. It could be that the participant has to be a blood relative. He also said something about heading off a future disaster. What if that disaster involves people close to you?”
So far, everything pointed to Drake, Avy realized. If he was going to kill again, he had to be stopped. No argument there. How would she accomplish that? That was the next question she posed to him.
Sebastian answered, “You’ve been given a wonderful gift, Avy. You have to realize that. I know it seems out of this world, but it’s real. You have to become a Walker. You have to learn how to use it, control it.”
“I don’t know the first thing about it. Where is Janus now?”
“He’s always on the move, traveling the Gates from one location to another. He’s not the type that has a permanent address. He’s more like a wavelength if that makes any sense, and just shows up when he does.”
“How am I supposed to know how to use these skills? This walking stuff?”
Sebastian adjusted his seat on the grass to face her. “I can tell you what I know. He says that walking is primed by an emotional state. It has to do with stress, caused by anger, fear or anxiety. The most effective way to bring it on is with anger. It happens when the top of the shoulders, the neck, or the face flush with heat—like when you get real mad. It’s some type of an internal chemical reaction that affects a hormone surge in the nervous system. It’s similar to a nuclear reaction. I know that sounds crazy, but that’s the answer he gave me once when I pestered him about it. Something about atoms scattering, cells breaking links.”
“Then what?”
“Doors, hatches, and gates are the portals. Once you enter one, you can blitz to the next nearest one. To keep a string going you have to be good at controlling the emotional force, knowing when to slow down, then when to speed up. Attaining higher speeds is the challenge.” He tossed a rock in the water. “See the ripple effect? It’s like riding a wave—once it starts, you hop aboard.”
“You sure know a lot about this for just a friend.”
“My God, Avy. What magician wouldn’t want to know the bare bones of that trick? That’s one I could never pull off, even with all the rehearsal in the world. He has the secret inscribed in his DNA—he’s a carrier. I think he’s selective of who gets that gene from him. You are the first face-to-face Walker I’ve ever met. You are part of him.”
She didn’t care if the next question sounded like a trap or not. It was just something she had to know. “I wonder if you would be fascinated with me if I didn’t have this power. I mean, ‘potential’, because I’m not sure I even have the skill. It’s all hearsay so far. There’s no proof of it, because I still think what happened to me was an accident.”
This time he scowled. “For one thing, it wouldn’t have made any difference. I liked you the first time I laid eyes on you. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a pretty fair judge of deception. I think I can say I’m smart enough to know what I like or trust in somebody.”
Right answer. He could have muffed that. She couldn’t deny what she had felt for him after their first meeting. It had started out so well. Now this other factor had come along to complicate everything. She didn’t want any conditions laid down i
n a relationship. But it looked like they would have to pass some hefty bumps in the road to pick up where they had left off. It all relied on trust.
“Well.” She sighed. “Maybe there’s nothing left to do than to try this thing out. If it works like you say it does, talking about it isn’t going to make it happen. Maybe I should experiment.”
“No maybes. You know you have to try it out. Aren’t you excited about it?”
“I’m a little excited, but afraid. How about you?”
“Are you kidding? I’m blown away! It will be the first time that I act the part of your assistant. I promise to help you get through it.”
She allowed herself a small laugh. “You’re an idiot. Just don’t let me go poof somewhere. I’d hate to get lost in the waves.”
“I’ll tie a cowbell on you. I won’t let you get away.”
She fell back on the grass, smiling at a fat cloud. She swished her arms and legs over the ground, then began to giggle. He asked what she was doing. She said, “I’m making a snow angel in the grass.”
He leaned close to her, saying, “You are an angel.” He kissed her. She surrendered, almost swooning in his embrace. She liked his breath on her face, his body pressed up against hers. He didn’t find the need to climb all over her. It was a gentle seduction with a sweetness she appreciated. Their first kiss. When they came up for air, they were not alone.
Three men stood on the bank facing the pond. They were no more than ten feet away. They looked out of place for such a serene setting—like Katz n’ Jammer kids at a church social. They wore heavy dark suits and expensive-looking shoes. They were too “off” the look for wannabe CIA or FBI agents. When they turned around to face the two, it seemed choreographed. They gave the couple lingering stares before they walked down the bank to disappear between a stand of trees.
“That was creepy,” said Sebastian. “Pervs, maybe.”
“I swear I’ve seen them before somewhere. I can’t remember where though. It’s not important. Let’s get out of here.”
###
They ended up back at the theater, but not without stopping at a pancake house to pick up a breakfast order. They sat on the cot together, eating. Every so often they had to shield their Styrofoam containers from one of the doves which flew overhead, since they were apt to release without warning. One of those times was eating, Sebastian explained.
“Without a doubt I went through the trapdoor,” said Avy, “then ended up in the back alley. Why that direction? Why that door? How controllable is this?”
Sebastian grabbed some writing material. He began sketching a layout of the theater, marking off certain sections. When he finished he said, “The theater has a total of fourteen exits or entrances. Maybe the Gates are linked by proximity. Maybe you have to pass through each door within a structure before you can jump to another one. I still don’t know how you did it the first time, unless you were feeling hatred for me, or something.”
She couldn’t forget that feeling. “I felt embarrassed about coming out of the costume. Then thought I was going to explode with anger. That’s when it happened. The next thing I knew I was standing in the back lot hammering on the door.”
“That’s the key,” he said. “You had an emotional surge. Anger. Do you remember the trip or seeing anything while it happened?”
“It happened real quick. I might have seen a flash, but that’s about it. I didn’t feel any pain or anything. Just shaky. But that could have been from nerves.”
She ate the last bite, finishing her breakfast plate, knowing it was time to test their theories. Part of her bubbled with excitement. Another part of her was terrified. Setting her empty container aside, she rubbed her hands together. “I need my head examined. Let’s do this before I change my mind.” She walked across the floor, stopping at the back entrance to the theater.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “How can I keep track of you?”
“Hang on a minute. I have an idea.” She went outside to her Jeep. She unsnapped a charm off her key ring. Removing her purse from beneath the seat, she pulled out a device, then returned to the storeroom.
“This is a key ringer,” she said. “I’ll keep the beeper in my pocket. You push this button on the ringer if I don’t show up. You can find me within three hundred feet, if there isn’t a barrier between us that mutes the beep sound.”
“That’s better than nothing.” He looked anxious.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped to the rear entrance. She tried to duplicate the feelings she’d had when standing over the trapdoor—the deep humiliation, the pain of embarrassment. Sebastian inched closer, his eyes widening.
She closed her eyes, doubled her fists, then charged the door. Her chest hit the metal hard with a thump; the blow knocked her backward. Dazed, she stood there for a moment, massaging her chin.
“Damn, Avy, don’t kill yourself. Are you okay?”
“Fine. I didn’t have the right juju or something. I guess I’m not embarrassed over the incident anymore. You shouldn’t have kissed me at the park.”
“What?”
“Never mind. I’ll try it again.”
“Yeah, you have to get hot—fuming mad. Something that lights your face on fire. Would it help if I cursed at you?” He looked more excited than she was.
“Don’t be an idiot—I’d end up laughing at you. Just wait. I’ll get it.” She thought for a moment, trying to bring something to mind that would fill her with rage. War, global warming, third-world famine topped the list. But she had something better. She thought about the injustice to her mother, the terror she must have endured on death row. She thought about the indignity, the bad press, along with all the people who had condemned her without knowing the facts.
The back of Avy’s neck bristled, her shoulders tightened. Her breath came in gulps. She remembered the letter her mother had written her. She had seemed so lost, abandoned by the world she loved. A tear came to Avy’s eye when she remembered how her mother had apologized and wished her well.
Now she had a full-on rage. It seemed like the atoms were breaking apart in her body, losing their orbits. That was it!
She marched toward the door, kicked up a leg, then she was through. A flash sparked in front of her face for a split second that stole her concentration. She fell forward in the dark, stumbling over her own feet, flailing her arms out to catch herself. She went down with a crash, taking something with her. The beeper squealed in her pocket. She looked around, trying to focus on anything familiar.
She was sitting on a floor amidst several broken cases of Top Ramen noodles and drinking straws. She saw light peeking from under a thick drape. She was not in the theater. She’d landed somewhere else.
The drape was flung back by a small broom wielding Chinese man who gaped at her in astonishment. After a few seconds, he found his tongue.
“You get out of Chin’s store right now, Missy!” he told her. “How you get back here? No lavatory for you in here. No trespassing. You not belong back here in private property! Halp, police!”
Avy stumbled to her feet. She pushed past him, kicking noodle packages and mashing straws underfoot. She ran down an aisle toward the sunlight, realizing that she was in a Chinese delicatessen. She shoved the front door open just in time to escape a thrown broom that clattered off the door glass. She made a right turn down a narrow alley. The theater alley! She sped to the back lot while her key beeper squealed like a wounded animal.
Sebastian was running full force in her direction with his hand outstretched, his fingers clicking the beeper button. She ducked before he put her eye out.
“Sebastian!”
He stopped in his tracks, whirled around. “Jesus! I thought I lost you.”
“You almost took my head off. Stay put next time.”
“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” He patted her down, making sure she was in one piece. Then their eyes met. The realization of what had just happened struck. They danced around in the parking lot like two mischievou
s children. “We did it!” they chorused.
The revelry was short-lived. The little Chinese man came around the corner on bowed legs, brandishing his broom like a lance. “You in big trouble now!”
They ran through the rear theater door, slamming it shut after them. They slid to the floor, laughing with hysterical fits. Outside, the Chinese man’s rant went on, while he beat his broom on the pavement angrily.
“Oh, you weely weely gonna get it now!” he told them.
Chapter 10
Monday was a day off, allowing them the privacy of the theater. The weekend performances had exceeded expectations, except for a faulty release mechanism in the guillotine and one stray rabbit that had escaped, but was later found cowering under the audience seats. The house receipts were down a bit from the last weekend due to a blockbuster movie release, but filling the theater to one-third capacity still brought in a nice profit. Sebastian predicted they would make a killing next weekend. He explained to Avy that word was getting out about the pretty new assistant who drew gasps from the male crowd during the performances. She felt euphoric for having six shows under her belt. It was a small milestone, but at least it proved she had given up amateur status. She now considered herself a professional magician’s assistant.
They had just finished pacing off the doors of the theater to record the distances in a notebook when they sat down in theater seats to take stock of what they had learned.
“All I can remember,” began Sebastian, “is that Janus said there’s a sequence to riding the string within a structure—that means going from door to door; each one represents Gates. I used to drive him nuts about the process, bugging him for the details. He would always laugh, but never tell me how it really worked. I'm sure it has something to do with a starting point.”
“How do you mean a starting point?” Avy was dying to know the secret.
The War Gate Page 10
