In All of Infinity

by H. R. Holt

He charged and knocked the man down, causing him to release Reverie’s neck. She pulled herself away and stepped into the room nearest the staircase, gasping for breath as she felt her neck. With her eyes glued to the fight, she realized she was wrong about Isaac. He could hold his own. She wondered many things in that instant: one, who would want to kill her? two, where was her father? and three, did she have feelings for Isaac Partridge?

  “Reverie?”

  Turning, she realized the dining room was illumed by a bright light that came from everywhere and nowhere. Standing across the table from her was a red cloaked figure, holding a hand towards her.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m your mother. Come…”

  Reverie felt as if she were gliding, and heard the door close behind her. She wanted to turn and run, but, for some reason, she couldn’t. When she approached the woman in red, hands emerged from the sleeves of the cloak and raised themselves to Reverie’s head. The brilliance of the white light engulfed her and she found her memories slowly disappearing like a dream in waking.

  ♥ Part Three: If Anything, a Mind ♥

  The flames of the great fire caused shadows to dance all around, almost as if the ghosts of those long dead were present. The sound of drums that had once been strong was faint, while voices began singing an ethereal tune laced together by the melody from a flute. The flutist, standing within the ring of drummers and singers, was dressed in a white dress that made her face seem even fairer and her eyes even bluer.

  Standing near the fire, sweat pouring down his face, looking at the faces all around him, Emmanuel didn’t understand what was happening. The ritual that Truth seemed to understand very well, causing him to smile, was leaving a furrow of confusion on the doctor’s face. “Trust us,” they’d said. “We are not cruel. We are fair people.” Although he’d taken their word for it, he was beginning to question himself. Truth was almost completely covered with black splotches, but he remained smiling. Emmanuel was sure something was wrong with this situation, although he couldn’t place his finger on it. He couldn’t place anything anywhere. He didn’t know much about what was happening.

  Only hours ago, he’d arrived at Wrenwood, a small village in the woods, and had to watch Truth explain their situation to a council. When it was explained (in a language he didn’t understand), the townspeople began creating a fire and pulling a group together for the bizarre ritual. As he stared at all of them now, he still didn’t understand why Truth insisted on fourteen drummers and singers, but he’d given up caring. He just wanted whatever was going on to be over so that he could go home. He sensed his daughter was in grave danger, even though Truth insisted she was safe. The ceremony had been proceeding for close to three hours.

  When the flutist at last broke the circle and the flame died down, a pale gray block of stone emerged from where the fire had been. Emmanuel marveled at it, found the symbols on the rectangular object rather beautiful. He knew each represented something, but he didn’t get a chance to ask Truth what they meant.

  Truth approached the block and lay on it, finding the stone cool to the touch. He turned his head and looked at Emmanuel, gestured for him to approach. The doctor’s uneasiness about the situation made him smile.

  “Don’t be frightened,” Truth said. He looked up at Emmanuel and closed his eyes, taking the man’s hand in his own. “I don’t understand why you’re always so frightened. Life isn’t all that bad when you don’t know all of the answers. It’s far more exciting that way.”

  Emmanuel shrugged and watched as the flutist approached them. Truth called her Madame Frost, because of her fair skin and her ability to create with frost. Although the doctor wasn’t sure about trusting her, Truth assured him that she was not to be feared. As he watched her tread lightly on the bramble, he saw a small smile on her face, akin to the famous painting of Mona Lisa, and almost as alien to him. Why would she be smiling like that if she didn’t have cruel intentions? As if she knew his thoughts, she smiled brighter and laid her flute beside Truth. He watched as a wider smile formed on her face when she gazed at Truth.

  “I believe it’s time for you to know the truth,” she said and closed her hand over theirs. As she whispered in a beautiful yet strange language unlike any he’d ever known, he found himself closing his eyes. “The truth, Emmanuel Reagan, will set you free. Free from heartache, memories hidden by a curtain of darkness, and reveal to you what needs to be known. Needs to be known now. Now more than ever.”

  When he opened his eyes with a start, he realized he was lying on the block of stone, looking up at Madame Frost. She smiled knowingly at him, realized how stunned he was by the truth. It had been hidden from him for far too long.

  “Esme is alive?”

  “She is,” Madame Frost nodded, still smiling. “She didn’t perish, as you thought for so long. She is alive.”

  When one of her attendants rushed to her, whispering in her ear, the smile disappeared. Emmanuel didn’t understand the melancholy that could cause her glow to diminish like a fading star. When he’d first met her, nearly went ballistic, she remained smiling. He wanted to know what was happening and caught hold of her hand before she could turn.

  “What’s happened?”

  She hesitated for a second, then, “They have your daughter.”

  Emmanuel slung his legs over the side of the block. He attempted to stand, but she pressed him down with one hand on each shoulder. He realized, as he stared into her eyes at her pain, how old she was. Truth had told him that she was ancient, but he’d never realized it until now. With a shudder, Emmanuel realized that Truth had never been a person, but a man-child of fourteen whose sole purpose was to make sure he knew Esme was alive.

  “Does Nadia have her?” he asked.

  He realized the name of his seductress had been buried in his mind all these years, and wished there was something he could do to stop her from doing whatever she was planning. He didn’t know this strange world around him, and seeking out his daughter would merely cause him to lose his way. He needed a guide, but who would take that position?

  “Nadia is no more. She perished in the hour of sunrise. It is her daughter, Luella, who has taken Reverie. I know you want to save your daughter and your wife. There is nothing we can do at this point in time. Reverie and Esmeralda will be safe for now, because there is nothing Luella can do to hurt them until the next Black Moon. You must understand this world if you are to defeat the darkness that controls it. We will help you. It will prove beneficial in the long run.”

  “How much time do I have?” he asked and looked at the faces around him. They were walking away, taking their drums with them. He wasn’t going to tell her that he didn’t understand half of what she said. “When is the next Black Moon?”

  “In almost four years,” she answered assuredly. She was pleased that they had the same timeframe, unlike some places that she knew about. “We do not have much time.”

  Emmanuel sighed and looked towards the sky, seeing a pale white moon and thousands of stars. He wondered if his wife and daughter were gazing at the same sky, but he didn’t ask Madame Frost if they were. He could sense them. They were on this strange planet he still didn’t know the name of, wondering where he was, but there was no way he could send them a message. What would he tell them? What would he whisper along the wind? Perhaps he would promise them that he’d find them. He felt a few tears fall down his face but didn’t say anything.

  ***

  Peniolea was located in the south of the Cathene Continent. It was a land marked by magic and mystery, surrounded in splendor unequaled by any of the surrounding lands on the Cathene Continent. When the sun arose in the morning, it was claimed that the rays belonged to those of giant goddesses with brilliant blonde hair. As the sun set, the pinks and oranges and reds came from angels dancing around with their wings painted in the hues. The sun, which had once touched everything, did not touch the town that was filled with evil and made contact with the castle merely out of fea
r.

  The foundations in the town were once made of pale white marble, with windows made of crystal. Every foundation was now in need of repair: the white was covered in filth, and the windows were covered in wood because they were broken. The castle was made of the same marble, though the architecture wasn’t in need of maintenance and the contrast between it and the town bedazzled anyone who saw it. There was a moat that surrounded it, hinting at the pretense of peace within; and the greenery made it seem even more serene, which was why everyone who stared at it was unable to detest it.

  Hiding within the castle in plain sight, ruling over the town, was he who possessed the darkest soul. His name was Thomas, a common name for someone who was so uncommonly evil. It was his job to keep an eye on everyone, make sure they never caught onto his plans to eradicate all that was good. There was one particular individual he was told to keep an eye on: Reverie Reagan, or, as they had renamed her, Ediniah Ojala.

  Even though time formed into years, there was a part of Reverie that threatened to emerge and reveal the truth that she knew. The magic that had been used on her was dying while her powers were increasing. If anyone’s life was made-up, it was hers. She lived with her father the duke at an estate near the border of Peniolea, enjoyed being doted on by everyone she knew, and detested each tutor she’d ever had. “They are boring,” she would often say. “I want excitement in my life. I’m young. I don’t see how anyone can read a book for fun.”

  At present, she was eighteen years old, in the king’s court, and one of the most-loved daughters in all of Peniolea. She had several young men courting her, and kept a diary with their names in it. She hardly ever wrote anything, so that was an achievement in itself. The girl she used to be would be appalled at this alone, much less her disinterest in books and adoration for men. Despite the interest of the young men, the king himself had a roving eye that was often focused on her, and his curiosity was all that really mattered.

  “Thomas, you had best forget her.”

  He was standing in his bedroom, surrounded in darkness except for the glowing crystal ball in the center of the room. His queen’s face was in the ball, her dark eyes warning him. She always knew what was on his mind.

  Instead of saying anything, he remembered seeing Reverie in the nude only yesterday. There was a river near the estate that she frequented when her father was away, which was quite often as of late. He’d been told about it by one of the men he’d told to spy on her, and went there early that morning to watch her. He wasn’t the only one there, because he saw a strapping young lad with dark hair and sturdy body. Thomas knew him as Otis Champlin, who wasn’t from around Peniolea, but further south, which explained his tan. He was a spy who usually had good intentions, but obviously not when he was around Reverie.

  “What brings you here?” she teased, swimming towards the shore.

  Otis dismounted the steed he was riding and began undressing, first taking off his shoes, undoing his belt, and then taking off his overtly-ruffled shirt. The shirt was a fashion he claimed was designed so that the ladies could see his muscles. Looking at his upper torso, Thomas wished he were muscular instead of tall and wiry. When Otis stripped off his pants, Thomas’s mouth dropped: the younger man’s manhood was twice as large as his!

  “Why do you think I’m here, Ediniah?” Otis asked, tossing his clothes over the back of his horse.

  “Oh? Is that it?” she laughed and stepped out of the water. Snatching up a towel, she looked at his large member. “I’m still a virgin, you know? Although I am very tempted, I’ll have to decline.”

  He blushed, covered his manhood with a laugh, and then wrapped his arms around her. Thomas wanted to retch, wishing he could be the one who could make love to her. She was younger than he was by twelve years, but that wasn’t all too bad. She more than made up for her youth by being so full figured. Still, though, her reluctance was peculiar. She was supposed to be without morals, completely having the potential to become an evil queen, but she refused Otis. Why?

  Although nothing happened, he had Otis captured and imprisoned in his dungeon. He had gone down before breakfast and seen him, tied to the wall in chains. Damned spy!

  “I know what this is about, peeping Tom,” Otis laughed. “You saw us. You’re jealous. What’s the matter? Not big enough down there? Or does she know what a cruel bastard you are?”

  Thomas raised one side of his mouth up in a smile, not finding the situation the slightest bit humorous. He turned to one of the guards, gestured for him to approach. The guard was like the dungeon with clammy, filthy skin, and smelled like hay. He didn’t say anything when he approached.

  Thomas was going to change the smell and noise of the place. The wailing for justice, for the death of the king, would become distant to Otis’s ears. Very, very distant.

  “Strip him,” Thomas ordered without moving.

  “That’s perverted, isn’t it?” Otis asked, laughing.

  “You’ll see,” Thomas nodded. He watched the guard pulled Otis’s clothes off, revealing the flesh that Reverie wanted but refused to touch. When Thomas at last saw the younger man’s privates, he smiled brightly at the guard. “Let’s boil ourselves a weenie, shall we?”

  Otis looked at him, eyes wide with fright. He gulped. “You wouldn’t.”

  Thomas didn’t say anything, then watched as the guard built a controlled fire, then set a small pot on top of it. He then positioned Otis on chains from the ceiling, each one binding an ankle or a wrist. Thomas smiled and found himself begin laughing uncontrollably when Otis’s large member met the boiling water.

  “If this doesn’t make him talk, I don’t know what will,” Thomas informed the guard. “If he still doesn’t talk, cut it off. Better yet, cut it off anyway. It will teach spies never to mess with King Thomas, ruler of Peniolea.”

  He walked away, hearing the screams of his adversary. If there was anything great about being evil, having the ability to torture one’s enemies in such a fashion was definitely it. He wondered who else had a snake trying to sneak into his hole before he could and realized there were many. After all, Reverie was the owner of the most beautiful breasts and supple legs in Peniolea. He would have her even if it meant destroying his own army.

  “Thomas!” He looked at the magic ball and saw his queen’s face. “I will not have you acting foolishly. If you make love to her, what we have worked for all this time would have been for nothing. Do you understand?”

  “I understand, my queen. I only wish you would let me touch her,” he said with a frown. “I’m not like a normal man. I could control my urge to go any further…”

  “No. You don’t know how powerful she is during the phase of her late teens. If evil consumes her before the Black Moon, everything we’ve been working for will disappear. Do you want good to reign? Well, don’t touch her. If good or neutral power touches her, it doesn’t matter in the slightest. She is good. How many times have we gone through this? You know how I hate repeating myself. It gives me such a headache.”

  He watched Luella roll her eyes, which were dark like her mother’s. She was a raven-haired beauty like her mother, but there wasn’t an ounce of pity in her heart. Thomas recalled a time when the mother had driven off a family of elves when she had the option to kill them. Luella slaughtered the entire family merely days after she killed her mother.

  “I’m sorry, my queen, for causing you to have such a headache.”

  “If only my mother’s spirit hadn’t drifted away when I murdered her…” she said with a sigh. “Well, anyway, I didn’t reveal myself to hear about your desire for that girl. I came to warn you. I have sources who say that there is a form of good coming to Peniolea. Be on the lookout, and, for all things evil, fight your desires for that girl. If you don’t, I may have to do something… that I don’t want to do.”

  Thomas crossed one arm across his chest to the opposite shoulder and bowed his head. It was a modification of the bow of her mother’s, except hers crossed on the other
side. When her image disappeared from the ball, he snapped his fingers and the curtains drew aside to reveal the world on both sides of him. He glanced at the large dark canopy bed ahead of him, forced the image of Reverie from his mind, and then walked towards the set of windows to his left.

  As he looked down towards the town, he imagined that everyone there knew who he was. They would all attack the castle with torches and pitchforks, and then slay him without as much as a thought. It was a way to remind him of what Luella could take away, should she decide to reveal who he was. He was demon on his father’s side and human on his mother’s, such was why he could go from being one or another easily. Luella had the power, though, to forever make him a demon. He didn’t want that. He wanted to fit in, to find someone who loved him, to have a child or two of his own. There were no beautiful women who were part demon such as he was, but there were plenty mortal women who were.