Secrets of the New World (Infini Calendar) (Volume 2)

by Scott Kinkade

  Jeanne picked up a second canister off the floor. Inside it was a cloth soaking in water. She handed him the cloth. “You can wipe down her forehead.”

  “Thank you,” he said. He reached forward and applied the wet cloth to Farahilde’s head.

  Jeanne was curious about this young man. Just how did he feel about Farahilde? “How long have you known her?”

  “A little over a month.”

  “That’s not very long.”

  “I suppose not. Reputation-wise, though, I’ve known her for longer.”

  “So you knew what kind of person she was even before you met her?” Jeanne knew she probably shouldn’t ask the question that was on her mind, but she did anyway. “Why did you agree to marry her?”

  He was silent for a moment, apparently deciding how to respond. He then said, without any hint of humor or other indication he was joking, “She saved my life.”

  Jeanne was taken aback. “Really?”

  “You probably don’t believe me…”

  She shook her head. “You’d be surprised. You probably wouldn’t believe me, but she saved my life as well.”

  Now it was his turn to be surprised. “She did?”

  Nodding, she said, “Yes. It’s funny; if you’re lost, she has this way of kicking you in the direction you need to go.”

  He smiled. “That’s exactly right, Miss Rose. Even if you’ve never met her.”

  “But how did she save your life before you even met her?”

  “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

  ***

  She slowly opened her eyes. “Oh—you’ve finally wakened, my precious one.” She looked around and found herself in one bedroom in the Hofburg palace in Vienna.

  “What the hell…?”

  “Farahilde, we’ve asked you to be mindful of your language.”

  Farahilde looked to her right and there was the last person she ever expected: Antonia Johanna. Her older sister and former queen of France was sitting at her bedside, decked out in all her splendor. “Antonia! My God! Is it really you?”

  She gave Farahilde a smile overflowing with warmth and love. “I know it must be hard to believe, but it is indeed I.”

  Farahilde sat up with the intention of embracing her sister. However, she instead put a hand to her aching head, an ailment she just now realized she had. “What happened? The last thing I remember was being attacked by that bitch Deschanel.”

  “That was vile of her,” Antonia said. “But perhaps we should thank her. Only when you approach death can you visit this place.”

  Farahilde didn’t understand. “What are you talking about? How can you even be here? Wait…Am I dead?”

  “Not yet, no. But you are very close. Jeanne is racing to save your life. Let us pray she succeeds.” Antonia closed her eyes and Farahilde could see her mouth forming quiet words.

  Farahilde let her silent invocation continue uninterrupted for several moments. Finally she said, “If I’m not dead, where am I? There’s no way this is really the Hofburg palace.”

  Antonia opened her eyes and looked at her. “Such a smart girl. We call this the Place of Revelations. I made it look like the Hofburg because that is a comfortable setting for you. Although, each person experiences it differently.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ask Jeanne. She’s been here.”

  “Fräulein?”

  Antonia nodded, still smiling. “I never imagined you two would become friends, especially after what happened inside your fort. But I’m glad to see you embracing other people. When I was alive you didn’t have many friends.”

  Farahilde was embarrassed by the path this conversation was taking. She turned her head away from Antonia in an exaggerated haughty move. “Hmph! I had subordinates. I didn’t need friends.”

  Still smiling, Antonia said, “Who are you trying to convince?”

  Farahilde became flustered. “I-I don’t need to convince anyone! I know what lies inside my own mind. Anyway—why have you brought me here?”

  “You brought yourself here, Farahilde. The subconscious finds its way to the Place of Revelations whenever you are near death and in need of answers.”

  “Huh? What are you going on about, sister? Answers? What answers?”

  “Usually, it is the answer to the question that plagues you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Farahilde balked. “The only question on my mind is ‘What the hell am I doing here?’”

  Antonia suddenly became serious. “My dear little sister, no one comes here unless there is a question that is eating them up inside. I can’t help you unless you accept the existence of that question. Now—what is it? Ask the question, so that it may be answered.”

  Farahilde looked away from her. The youngest member of the Hapsburg family hadn’t been expecting this, and wasn’t prepared for it. However, now that he had been confronted with what she most feared, she decided it was time to face it, and Antonia was probably the only person she could have this talk with.

  “Why does Leo hate me?”

  Antonia smiled again. “The question is asked! Now it can be answered. Come with me.”

  Antonia turned to leave the room. Farahilde jumped out of bed to follow her, discovering that despite the fact she had been in bed she was fully dressed.

  She followed Antonia who moved swiftly through the Hofburg Palace until the latter went into Leopold’s chamber where he conducted his business with foreign dignitaries—the very room where had told Farahilde of their trip to America and her arranged marriage with Frederick. Farahilde went inside and there Antonia was talking with Leopold. There was someone else present as well. A small child with long dark hair wearing a frilly pink dress.

  Four-year-old Farahilde.

  Chapter XI: What the Piscataway had to Say

  Maryland, United States, December 12, 1792 (Infini Calendar), 10:30 p.m.

  The steam carriage carrying Farahilde drove north up the main road leading out of Washington. Outside the city was mostly wilderness, and the ride was at times quite bumpy. The only sounds were the chugging of the steam engine on the carriage’s rear, and the grinding of rocks and other things in the road as the carriage drove along.

  Eventually the carriage stopped and Edward Q. Huffington welcomed them to the Piscataway settlement. They got out and the circular settlement, consisting of a dozen rectangular houses surrounded by a ten-foot-high fence of wooden stakes, was before them. The houses were covered by drum-shaped roofs made out of what looked like tree bark to Jeanne.

  As they gently carried Farahilde’s unconscious form out of the steam carriage, Edward gave them a quick rundown on Piscataway culture.

  The Piscataway people were experts in agriculture, and they grew everything from corn to squash. The women were even sophisticated enough to actually breed plants to get the best results, while the men actively hunted small game as well, and fishing was another way they fed their families.

  Edward explained that the Piscataway had settlements all over this region, and this one in particular was the home of the local chief, or weroance. They would need to ask the weroance for help in curing Farahilde.

  The entrance to the settlement, large gate, was guarded by two men, each wearing animal furs over a patchwork of other materials of various colors. Jeanne was hardly an expert on Piscataway culture, but she decided the imagery probably symbolized something and was spiritually important to these people.

  As they approached, the two Piscataway men—who were very muscular and wore large feathers in their hair—motioned for them to stop. One of them said something in their language, and Edward replied, gesturing to Farahilde. The two men looked skeptical and made what Jeanne thought were further inquiries.

  After a few moments, one of them went inside the settlement. Edward then turned his attention to Jeanne. “He went to ask the weroance if we can enter. The weroance is the highest authority here, so if he says no, there is nothing more we can
do. Of course, I hope he says yes, because that will increase the help I give you.”

  Jeanne was holding Farahilde’s upper body, and Frederick had her legs. The suspense was almost unbearable, and having to carry the young Austrian’s limp body only made it worse. Neither her patience nor her muscles would last much longer.

  Within a few moments the guard came back and spoke to Edward. “What did he say?” she asked impatiently.

  “He says the weroance has given us permission to enter.”

  Thank the Lord, Jeanne thought as she breathed a silent sigh of relief. However, she knew they had only been given permission to enter; they had not yet been given the cure, if one even existed.

  One of the guards directed them to a house in the center of the settlement. In the center of this house was a circular fireplace on the floor. Behind the hearth sat an important-looking man who seemed to be in deep meditation. He sat cross-legged with his eyes closed, and from his mouth came a sound like a hybrid of humming and mumbling.

  Edward sat down opposite the weroance in front of the hearth, and he motioned for Jeanne and Frederick to do the same. Jeanne sat down to the right of Edward and Frederick sat to the right of her. Meanwhile, Farahilde was placed behind them on a mat of animal fur.

  Edward leaned over to whisper in Jeanne’s ear. “The weroance is divining the secrets of the universe.”

  Suddenly the weroance opened his eyes and spoke. Speaking as softly as she could, Jeanne asked Edward, “Is he talking to us?”

  Edward nodded. “He says he wouldn’t ordinarily grant help to a white person, but the Spirits have told him your friend is to play a key role in determining the future of this land. Oh, it sounds like she’s going to be of great help to someone. I’m jealous!”

  Jeanne didn’t understand. “The Spirits?”

  “That is best translation I can come up with for the word they use to describe the entities they supposedly get their knowledge from.” At this point the weroance began speaking again. “He says you and Frederick will also be instrumental in deciding the outcome of a coming battle, along with one other person.”

  The weroance said something to the two Piscataway men standing over Farahilde. They picked her up and brought her into a smaller room behind the weroance. The walls of this room were covered in strange symbols Jeanne had never seen before.

  “What is this area?” Jeanne asked Edward. The two of them, along with Frederick, stood in the doorway. The weroance knelt between them and Farahilde who lay on the floor.

  “The name of this room most closely translates to ‘Abode of the Earth’,” Edward explained. “It is said that this room is closest to the domain where their ancestors dwell.”

  The weroance began chanting, and Jeanne was shocked to see a soft green glow appear beneath Farahilde. It looked as if the ground itself was becoming bathed in an ethereal light. “Is that…coralite?”

  Edward motioned for her to lower her voice. “The weroance needs complete concentration. But yes, that is coralite. The Piscataway have a deep connection with the earth. They can bend its energy to their will. Or rather, the weroance can. Most Piscataway can’t control it to the extent he can.

  “And this will reveal the treatment needed to save Farahilde?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t understand. This is the treatment.”

  Frederick gave to a realization. “The coralite sample in her pocket; the weroance is using it to heal her.”

  Jeanne was fixated on the scene playing out in front of her. The glow had encompassed Farahilde completely. Within moments Jeanne had to shield her eyes from its brilliance. To thank that just a small amount of coralite could have this effect…

  ***

  Her miniature doppelganger was sitting on the floor playing with a doll.

  “What. The. Hell?” She said, stunned at the scene playing out before her.

  None of them paid any attention to her. Antonia continued talking to Leopold about affairs of state. Farahilde was about to try and get their attention again when a fourth figure materialized right in front of her. More precisely, it walked right through her as it entered the room.

  It was their mother, Maria Theresa. “It’s time for Farahilde’s nap,” she announced.

  “Mama!” the child cried happily as Maria Theresa picked her up.

  The adult Farahilde, dumbstruck, reached out to touch her long-dead mother, but the apparition walked right through her as it exited the room with its young charge. A tear streamed down her cheek at the lost opportunity. “Mother…” It had been a decade since she had last seen her mother, and now here she was, unable to hug her, to tell her how much she had missed her, to ask Are you proud of me?

  Nevertheless, Antonia and Leopold continued speaking as if nothing was amiss. “Mother really enjoys Farahilde,” he said.

  Antonia nodded. “She is Mother’s youngest. Mother simply wants to baby her while she can. It was the same with each of us.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” There was something different about his demeanor, Farahilde observed. He seemed a lot more laid-back, a far cry from the strict bastard she knew.

  Suddenly Antonia said, “Brother, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Anything, my sister. You have but to ask.”

  Antonia looked around to make sure there was no one eavesdropping on their conversation. When she was satisfied, she said, “I sense something in Farahilde. Something wonderful. She has the potential to be the greatest of the Hapsburgs. But that potential must be carefully nurtured. As I am in France most of the year, it will be up to you to raise her should anything happen to our parents. Will you promise to do that?”

  “Of course. I will make sure she grows into a strong Hapsburg.”

  “You must not go easy on her,” Antonia added. “You must be firm.”

  He said, “You may rest easy knowing Farahilde will become a fine person. I shall teach her everything she will need to know for the day she eventually becomes ruler of the Hapsburg house.”

  “Thank you, dear brother. However, there is one more promise I want you to make me.”

  “What is it?”

  “Promise me you’ll never give up on her.”

  “I promise.”

  She embraced him. “You’ll never know how much this means to me. Now I can return to France without any worries.”

  “I’ll still worry about you,” he said. “The French people are such vulgar louts. Rest assured if they hurt you in any way—”

  She cut him off. “No! You must not do anything rash. You have an entire country to think about.”

  “But—”

  “A ruler must not put one person over the lives of his people. Only a petulant child would do such a thing.”

  He seemed to think this over for a moment, and then said, “You are right. Even if they end up holding you prisoner, I will not retaliate. However, if it is they who declare war, I will have to respond.”

  “That is acceptable,” she said, “Do what you must to protect Austria, but do not be the aggressor.”

  He smiled. “It is agreed, then. I have made you two promises, and we have come to terms on an important foreign policy.”

  He was a liar, Farahilde thought as she watched them. Leopold never had any intention of keeping his promises, at least the ones concerning her. He was a lying piece of filth, no better than the French worms he had just decried.

  Someone appeared next to Farahilde. It was Antonia. Farahilde’s eyes darted between the two Antonias. The one across the room continued to talk with Leopold. The Antonia standing next to her looked at Leopold and said, “Two promises made. One promise kept.”

  Farahilde was thoroughly confused. “Huh?”

  “Leopold kept his promise to try and raise you right. But along the way he must have forgotten why he was doing it. His attempts to mold you into a strong Hapsburg eventually became of a dogmatic nature. His frustration at your refusal to conform to his ideals increased over time. He has never
understood what you are or the person you were meant to be.

  “You believe him to be little more than a liar. The truth is not so simple. He meant well, but he is only human. People easily stray from their original intentions.”

  Farahilde rolled her eyes. “So you’re saying he’s complicated. Well, that’s just great.”

  “I’m not saying he hasn’t wronged you,” Antonia replied. “He should truly apologize for trying to force you to be someone you’re not. However, don’t you think there are valuable lessons you could learn from him?”

  “Well, I…guess so,” Farahilde said reluctantly.

  “Good. If the two of you work harder to understand one another, things will not be so difficult between you.”

  Farahilde was very embarrassed at the words she had to utter. “I’ll…try, I guess. But only because it’s you asking me. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else. I—”

  Her words were cut off by a sudden rumbling. The room began shaking violently. “Oh, dear,” Antonia said.

  Farahilde became aware of an aching pain in her head. “What’s going on?”

  Pieces of the ceiling began raining down. Sharp cracks began running one by one up the walls. “You are dying,” Antonia said. “You’ve got to get out of here. This space is collapsing. If you don’t wake up before you are crushed, you’ll be stuck with me for all eternity.”

  As she choked back a sob, Farahilde asked, “Would that really be so bad?”

  A tear ran down Antonia’s cheek. “You must live, my sister. You have people waiting for you.”

  Farahilde ran forward to embrace her older sister one last time. However, a section of the ceiling fell on her, burying her in debris. Antonia’s face shone down upon her, and then everything faded out of existence.

  ***

  The glow suddenly went out, and they were left in the dark of the room once again. The weroance then said something. “He has done all he can,” Edward said.