“Well, thank you.” I bow my head to him. “I’m glad you have that faith in me. But I’m still confused about a lot of things. The Seeker’s Keys, for example. They have something to do with The Wall, right?” Through the window to our left, the sky fades off into night over Bygonne, not yet having met the morning. “But where is it? I thought it would be around here somewhere, but I still haven’t seen it yet—”
“There,” Zee says.
I turn my head to find her pointing. Toward the ocean.
“It’s . . . out there?”
She and Smudge both nod.
“But, how? Smudge, you knew this?”
“Oh . . . yes.”
“Smudge, you promised!”
“I’m sorry, I . . . I didn’t tell you before, because not knowing kept you safe, as well as kept safe the location of The Wall. A simple MemTap could’ve put that information, and your life, in jeopardy. Another reason I wiped my memory.”
“So, you have the exact location, then?”
“Well, more of a general direction.” She outstretches a hand toward the sea. “Lord Daumier still believes The Wall is somewhere on land.”
Now, the paper Professor Al gave me makes sense. Somehow, he had that piece of the puzzle, and the clue about where to find the Keys. I wonder how much else my daddy told him, if anything . . .
“How can a wall withstand the ocean?” Johnny asks.
“It’s not a wall like you’re thinking,” Zee says. “It’s . . .” She searches through her thoughts for an explanation, but shakes her head. “It’s hard to explain.”
“That’s what the Seeker’s Keys are for,” Seraphim says. “Not only do they activate when locked together and create a homing signal that’ll lead us to the door, but they also unlock it. There is but one access point.”
“How do we get out there?” I ask.
“We’ve gone out a bit, here and there, in the Arc, but it’s impossible to find anything without the activated Keys. We could sail for days in the wrong direction, get lost at sea. We have a larger ship with the capacity for a thousand. Should be ready for a test sail in a couple of weeks. That’s what we’ll use, once we know where we’re going.”
“A thousand?” Johnny repeats. “It must be enormous!”
“Where is it?” I ask.
“In a . . . secret location.” And he grins, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Sorry, but some things do need to remain top secret until everything’s in order and we’re ready to sail. I hope you understand.”
“Of course.” My stomach flutters at the thought of being in an underwater vessel, somewhere, way out there; it both terrifies and excites me.
“I believe your father knew more than he shared with any of us,” Zee says.
She, Smudge, and I exchange looks, and Smudge nods in agreement. “I think so, too.”
“Toward the end of Aura’s life,” Zee continues, “he was always with that book, scratching notes in it, sweating over it like he’d lost his mind. Aura was worried that he had, and when she’d ask him about it, he’d tell her he wanted to make sure his little girl would always have the magic she needed to find her way in this life.”
“He used to tell me the same thing,” I say, teary-eyed.
“Sadie, too,” says Smudge.
“Why couldn’t he just tell us?”
Zee fidgets with my mother’s bracelet on her wrist, like my mother once did. She clears her throat. “Your mother thought your father kept things from her to keep you safe. So she didn’t pry.”
“I shared with him what information I had about the MemTap and transfer programs,” says Seraphim, “and he knew the knowledge would be in danger were it ever discovered—”
“So he left just enough clues to keep me questioning everything,” I say. “He fed me full of hope and strength and curiosity, enough to make me search for answers.”
“One of his greatest magic tricks ever,” Seraphim says. “Zephyr the Magnificent was truly a brilliant man.”
“But what about the MemTap?” Zee asks. “Lord Daumier had Richard’s mind used for an original model OAI, so why could he not get the information he needed then? Aura’s and Sadie’s minds were searched for months—”
“Isolated memory wipes,” Seraphim explains. “We met often, and he’d go under for the procedure. Back then, it was a risky new technology with side effects, but he dealt with them. He said he left clues for you, but wouldn’t tell me where or what they were. In fact, everyone who worked with him only got pieces of the whole picture, and he did this to keep us all safe. This was his way of giving you a chance at a better future, Joy. The only thing he could do. He had to trust his instincts . . . and Cheyenne’s word.”
“He knew Cheyenne, too?” Johnny asks.
Seraphim gives us all a knowing smile. “You’d asked me earlier how I knew this day would come. It was her, Cheyenne. Richard met her only once, and after he’d spoken with her, he claimed he had no doubt in his mind you’d find the Keys, Joy, and lead a group to Havivah. Don’t know what her words were, but they eventually brought you all here. Your arrival at the Refuge was no accident.”
“What’s Havivah?” I ask.
“A dream, a myth, the paradise and promised land we’ve all longed for . . .” He trails off, lost in thought, while we stand in silence, staring at the sea. Out there, a mysterious future, which is ours, but not yet ours, tosses, ripples, and waves us forward, onward.
“Dah?” says Baby Lou, pointing toward it.
“Yes, Baby. Somewhere out there is our doorway to freedom.”
“So . . . what do we do when we get there?” Johnny flicks the brim of Old Jonesy’s hat and squints as far as he can see. “What’s on the other side of it?”
“That,” says Smudge, “no one knows.”
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When I first began writing The Treemakers in 2013, this book wasn’t even dreamed of. Though I thought it would someday be nice to be able to write a series, I never really saw that I had the talent, dedication, and stick-to-itiveness to do it. But through these past two years of making amazing friends in the indie author community and meeting such encouraging and supportive readers, I’ve gained the knowledge, self-discipline, motivation, solid resignation, and perseverance to keep moving forward. With the love, friendship, and support I receive every day, along with my stubborn willpower and optimism, the obstacles that crop up continue to be obliterated. I would not be where I am today without all of you.
Thanks to my parents, Tina and Ricky R., for your unwavering belief that I am going to achieve great things, for helping with finances and the kids so I can continue to follow my dreams. I’m just so damn happy I can make you guys proud. I’ve been waiting for this for a long, long time, and I know you have, too. I love you two so very much.
My children, Savanna, Sierra, Skyla, and Miles, you listen to me talk books and writing and you encourage me and believe in me, even though I know you get tired of seeing me at my computer all of the time and hearing me talk about book stuff. Being a single parent is no easy task, just as I know being a child in a one-parent family is not easy for you, either. But we have learned how to do this thing together, and we have loved each other through the hard times, and for the past year, you have watched slowly as Momma achieved great things. I couldn’t have done them without each of your part in giving me a life full of love, fulfillment, creativity, giggles, tears, joy, encouragement, friendship, and dreams. They are coming true every day. Thank you for keeping me grounded while my mind is in the clouds spinning stories most of the time. I love you, my angels. You are all perfectly imperfect, just like me.
; Kimberly Grenfell, my lovely editor, thank you so much for being part of this solid foundation on which I’ve erected my writing career. You are an absolute sweetheart, but you’re not at all shy about giving honest feedback on my work. You helped me shape the Treemakers Trilogy into what it has become—it seriously wouldn’t be the story it is without you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
John Gibson, thanks for your brilliant work on the formatting. Your work is beautiful and immaculate, and I love it so much.
Logan Keys, Amy Bartelloni, and Jonathan Yanez, you guys have each been there for me, offering your friendship, insight, encouragement, and laughter when I needed it most. I’m so grateful to have friends like you, even if we don’t always see things eye-to-eye, and even if we go for periods of time without speaking for whatever reason, and because sometimes life is just happening so fast . . . you still have a special place in my heart, and my world is a better place just knowing you are in it.
Christian Bentulan, thanks so much, once again, for this amazing cover. You are an absolute artist rock star. I love your work—all of it—and feel honored to have it on the cover of my own. You are a pleasure to work with, and I’m looking forward to the masterpiece you come up with for book three.
To my wonderful street team, fans, advance readers, reviewers, encouragers, supporters, and all around awesome book friends and family, Allen R., Tina O., Andrew R., Stephanie C., Amy B., Veronica W., Kimberly V., Ileana S., Angela B., Lawrence P., Fawn P., Heather F., Cheer S., ER A., Erinn M., Bambi C., Shelah K., Michelle K., Katy W., Casey B., Brea B., Onieta R., VJ P., Mysti H., Julie R., Jeri R., Martin S., Aria M., Jen W., Leslie C., Jette J., Cheree C., Kacey A., Gina S., Jennifer L., LaDonna P., Bri H., Karen F., Debbie C., Rachel B., Alicia P., Heather N., Kim C., Sarah N., Ashley K., Shirley B., Valerie H., Wendy M., Demetria P., Pam E., Denette H., Steph P., Lynn S., and so many more! . . . Thank you all for the things you’ve done to show me your love and support. You’ve read and shared my work, left reviews, said wonderful, uplifting, beautiful things that made me cry and laugh, and you’ve given me the gifts of your friendship, and your simple belief that I have something special to offer to the world. That means more to me than you will ever know. From the deepest depths of my soul, thank you.
The Soultakers
Copyright 2015 Christina L. Rozelle
A Spark in the Dark Press 2015
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, with the exception of brief quotes used in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Christian Bentulan
Interior layout by John Gibson
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The Soultakers (The Treemakers Trilogy Book 2) Page 32
