by Vicky Savage
“How can the leaves be black?” I ask. “I thought all plants produced green chlorophyll.”
“There’s something in the chemical makeup of the tree that combines with the chlorophyll to give the leaves that black sheen. If you examine them closely, you can see they’re actually the darkest shade of green. But the leaf tips are sharp as thorns, so I wouldn’t advise doing that. You should see them when they’re in bloom. Their blossoms are either blood-red or snow-white. It’s pretty dramatic.”
Dappled sunlight filters through the ebony leaves, casting eerie patterns on the grass below. Families wander among the tress, talking and laughing, seemingly oblivious to the sinister spectacle of the black forest.
We exit the park through gates on the opposite side. The woman’s voice tells us we’re approaching the Granbury Art Museum. She politely asks if we’d care to stop and go inside. Asher checks his watch. “No. Please take us directly home,” he says to the car.
“Yes, sir,” she replies.
“She knows where you live?” I ask.
“It’s programmed into the system. I’m sorry we don’t have time to stop today. The museum is amazing. There are world-renowned works you’d recognize and others by artists who aren’t popular or even alive on your earth. It takes hours, or days, really, to see everything, and we’re expected for lunch.”
“That’s okay,” I tell him, still a bit rattled from the subway experience and from riding in a car with no steering wheel. I figure the sooner we get to Asher’s house, the sooner I can relax. “Will Eve be there?”
“Oh yeah.” He smirks. “She’s basically under house arrest for six months for abandoning her post and because of her antics in Domerica. She’s allowed a few trips into town, but no transcending.”
“Oh man, that’s harsh,” I say.
“She’s got to learn. It’s a gift not to be abused.” He looks at me meaningfully as if his words have a special significance for me also. But I don’t yet completely understand this gift of mine, and I don’t fully comprehend his meaning.
We tool along in the little car, taking in the scenery. After a mile or so, I flip open my TPD bracelet and check out the holographic map. Dozens of colored dots are clustered in one small area.
“What’re you doing?” Asher asks.
“I was looking to see if I have a mirror here.”
“You could’ve just asked,” he says. “Those dots are the other Transcenders. That’s where we live. But, no red anywhere, see?” He reaches over and closes the bracelet. “You do not have a mirror on Arumel. Your mirror died over a year ago in a horseback riding accident.”
A chill prickles my neck hair. “Weird. Just like the princess,” I say. “Did you know her? My mirror, I mean.”
“No I didn’t. Sometimes events repeat themselves in parallel existences. It’s something we’re studying.”
That’s a sobering thought. I stare out the window and notice we’ve entered a residential area with fat shade trees lining both sides of the road. The homes are on the order of grand estates, although older and more traditional than the buildings in the new part of the city. Most have sizeable grounds. Some are surrounded by stucco or wrought iron fences. The car glides to a stop at the curb in front of a building in the style of an old French chateau, complete with pilasters and mansard roofs.
“Is this acceptable, sir, or shall I use the driveway?” the car asks.
“This is fine. We’ll get out here,” Asher says.
I open my door and climb out onto the cool, shady sidewalk. The air has a familiar smell of oak and earth. Once we’re on the sidewalk, the car pulls away from the curb and takes off by itself. No passengers required, I guess.
“Is this where you live?” I ask, taking in the size of the chateau. It’s not as big as Warrington Palace, but it’s huge.
“Me and the other Transcenders. It’s probably a little large for us, but we’re hoping to add to our ranks soon.” He cocks an eyebrow and smiles.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I say, hoping this isn’t going to turn into a recruiting session. I feel something cold and wet brush my palm from behind. Quickly pulling my hand away, I turn to see a beautiful yellow-haired dog merrily wagging her tail.
“Who’s this?” I ask, bending down to scratch her ears.
“Oh, that’s Callie. She’s a sweetheart.”
“You’re a pretty girl,” I say. “Who does she belong to?” I glance up and down the street for her owner.
“She’s a community dog. All domestic animals are owned and cared for by the community, for the enjoyment of all. Unless, of course, an animal decides to adopt a human, then they’re allowed to stay with that person.”
Callie licks my face. “You mean she doesn’t belong to anyone? Where does she live?” I ask, wiping off her slobber with my sleeve.
“She belongs to everyone. The community houses, feeds, spays, neuters, grooms, and provides for all the needs of the animals. There are animal centers in every neighborhood. Joe, whom you will meet today, doesn’t enjoy exploration work or holography, so he actually works at our local center.”
“And the dogs just run around without leashes or anything?”
“No one minds. They’re very gentle, and they’re all trained as pups where to go to the bathroom, not to wander into the roadway, things like that. Each of them is up-to-date on vaccinations, so they pose no threat to people. Don’t you like dogs?”
“Yes. I love them. It’s just so different where I come from,” I say, planting a kiss on Callie’s forehead.
“Let’s go inside,” Asher says. “I want to introduce you around, and I think Narowyn wants to speak with you before lunch. She’s in charge of the Transcenders, but she’s also an extraordinary person—a physician, psychologist, and author. Anyway, you’ll love her.”
A sign on the front gate says “Chateau du Soleil.” Asher holds the gate for me. Callie follows us into the yard and up the steps. The double front doors are painted cerulean blue and sport shiny brass door knockers in the shape of lions’ heads. They swing open as Asher reaches for the knob.
“You’re here!” Eve says, slipping an arm around my waist. “We’ve been waiting for you.” She looks different in her long, white cotton dress and sandals, even more petite and nymph-like. “Did you hear I practically got a life-sentence for helping you find the Skorplings and probably saving Patrick’s life?” She twists up her mouth like a pouty child.
“I heard. Sorry about that. I appreciated your help, though,” I say.
Three others are waiting for us in the foyer. Eve handles the introductions. “Jaden, this is Mathew.” She gestures to a mahogany-skinned man in his forties wearing a long gray robe. He smiles brightly and shakes my hand.
“Welcome, Jaden” he says in a Barry White bass. I develop an immediate voice-crush on this man.
“This is Monica,” Eve says turning to an emo-looking young woman with coal black hair, pasty skin, and a pierced eyebrow.
“Am I supposed to curtsey or something?” she asks dourly. “I hear you’re a princess.”
“Not really,” I say shaking her hand.
“And this is Jeffrey.” He’s a tall, skinny carrot-top with a winning smile and cold hands. His clothes are similar to Asher’s linen shirt and pants.
“Nice to meet you, Jeffrey.”
“Likewise,” he says.
“Narowyn is waiting for you in her office,” Eve says. “I’ll take you.”
“Quit trying to suck up, Eve,” Asher says. “I’ll take her. Go tell the others we’re here.”
Eve juts out her lower lip, but Asher ignores her. “It’s this way,” he says, gesturing to a hallway.
The interior of the chateau is warm and inviting. Brilliant light streams through dozens of windows and skylights. I’m grateful to see the sun again. The décor is French country, with soft blue and gold hues consistent throughout. Worn oriental rugs cover dark wooden floors, and baroque-style chests line the hallway. The cream-co
lored walls are covered with impressionist paintings of outdoor cafés, water lilies, and ballet dancers. Lush potted plants fill every available corner, and the soft trickling of a nearby fountain can be heard.
“Nice place,” I say to Asher.
“We like it.” He stops in front of a white door. I’m amused when I notice that Callie has followed us inside and down the hall. “This is Narowyn’s office. She’s expecting you. I’ll see you at lunch,” Asher says.
I hesitate, not knowing whether to knock or just walk in. He reaches over and turns the crystal door knob for me. “Door’s always open. Go right in.”
As I step across the threshold, a woman with auburn hair shot with strands of gray raises her eyes from the papers on her desk and smiles warmly. She appears to be around sixty, maybe younger. She stands and extends her hand to me. “Jaden, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Narowyn Du Lac. Please come in and sit down.”
I close the door and take a seat in one of the gold, French provincial chairs facing her desk. She’s not classically beautiful, but there’s something about her face that makes me want to stare. It may be her intelligent blue eyes, the elegant curve of her cheek, or her charismatic smile. But I think it’s something else, something underneath it all, a kind of relaxed, natural glow that seems to radiate around her.
“We’re so happy to have you here. Asher has told me many wonderful things about you. And of course, our dear Eve has been singing your praises. I apologize for her uninvited intrusion on you in Domerica. I hope she did not make things terribly awkward for you.”
“No, actually she helped me rescue my Skorplings. I’m sorry she’s being punished for assisting me. But I understand there are rules that must be obeyed.”
Narowyn nods. “I’m afraid she is young and tempestuous, and sometimes her own worst enemy. But I appreciate her enthusiasm. We do not often learn of a new Transcender, so as you might imagine, it causes quite a stir of excitement in our little community.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” I say. “I’m looking forward to meeting everyone. To be honest, though, I’ve pretty much already decided that I’m going to stay in Domerica.”
“Asher has told me you are in a particularly compelling situation on Earth H87DE, which would make it difficult for you to choose to permanently join us here in Arumel. I admit that is disappointing, but I am pleased you’ve seen fit to at least visit with us before anything permanent has been put in writing.”
“What Asher says is true,” I tell her. “I’m here because I regretted not learning more about the Transcenders in the past. But, it’s really impossible for me to leave Domerica right now. I’ll sign the papers with IUGA in a few weeks, and it will be done. My mother is very ill, and I’m soon to become queen.”
“Your mother?” she says. “But she’s not really your mother, is she? The one who gave birth to you and raised you as a child?”
I feel my cheeks turn pink. “Well no. She’s my mother’s mirror in Domerica.”
“Yes.” She nods knowingly. “That’s one thing we must always guard against as Transcenders, confusing a person’s mirror with the actual person.”
“Still, I feel close to her,” I say. “And there are other reasons I must stay. I’m engaged to marry someone in the near future. It’s complicated. I have a perpetual contract with this man.”
A far away smile curves her lips, while her long slender fingers toy with a crystal paperweight. “Oh, I’m quite familiar with the enthralling nature of a perpetual contract. I also have one.”
“You do?” I gasp.
“Yes. But I will confide in you that it is not with my current husband. I met my perpetual partner on another earth before I met my husband. Suffice it to say, I’ve experienced both the joy and the heartache of such a relationship.”
This astonishes me. “But, how did you ever … What happened …” I babble, not knowing what to ask first.
“Of course it was agony to leave my forever love. The most difficult thing I’ve ever done, actually. I knew I would never see him again, and he has no mirror on Arumel. But, had I stayed, I would have been forced to live a lie. He came from an earth where the concept of a Transcender would never have been understood, much less tolerated. I was with him for five years, during which time I led a double life—as a Transcender and as his wife. I was much younger then, but still the stress and guilt were intolerable. Ultimately it came down to a matter of fairness, to him and to myself.”
I stare at her, speechless.
She leans across the desk, eyes burning with passion. “Please believe that I am not implying that it cannot be done. In fact, I’m certain it is possible for one to renounce one’s status as a Transcender, and to live as an earth-bound person. It has been accomplished in the past, though rarely. In your case there are factors other than everlasting love which tie you to Earth H87DE. You’ve elected to assume the role as queen, governing an entire country. It takes courage and self-sacrifice to arrive at such a decision. Certainly that alone is sufficient grounds for choosing to live a restricted lifestyle. I’m saying only that in my case it did not work.”
Her words eat at me like acid. Even though she’s trying to reassure me that I can do it, an insidious seed of doubt has been planted in my heart. Honestly, it was probably already there, but Narowyn just flashed a giant spotlight on it, forcing me to acknowledge it. So far, I’ve done fairly well at keeping my misgivings buried deep inside.
“Look,” I say. “I don’t know if I can actually pull this off. I mean, who can ever know? There’s one thing I’m certain of and that’s my commitment to Ryder. I may have an advantage that you didn’t. I’ve never really developed my Transcender skills. I don’t know what it’s like to travel anywhere at any time, because I’ve never done it. Sure I’ve been a few places recently with Asher, and it’s been fun. But I really don’t think I’m going to miss something I’ve never had. I don’t define myself as a Transcender, and never will.”
“Well said. I admire your conviction,” she says. “Your Ryder is lucky to have one so devoted to him and, from what I’ve heard, you will make a fine queen for the Domerican people.” She rests her elbows on the desk and folds her hands. “Well then, what of your life in Connecticut, on Earth 7Y12? Do you intend to make a clean break with your real family there?”
The question makes my insides squirm. I haven’t fully come to terms with what I’m going to do about my Connecticut life. Lowering my eyes, I stare at my hands and Ryder’s ring. “I don’t know,” I say softly. “I’ll probably have to. I won’t be able to visit them the way Asher visits his family. There’d be no way to explain my absences from Domerica, and I’ve made a personal vow not to lie to Ryder in the future. I mean, I’m not going to tell him about being a Transcender, or coming from another dimension, or anything like that. But I’m not going to do anything I have to lie about. IUGA will likely come up with a way to explain my disappearance from Connecticut. I don’t want to hurt my dad and brother, but I don’t see any other way.”
“I can appreciate that,” she says gently. “Separation from family is one of the more difficult aspects of the job for us all. If there is anything I can do to help you with your transition, please do not hesitate to call on me.”
“Thank you,” I say. “That’s kind of you.”
“Of course. I wish you the best in your exciting new life, and I assure you we have no intention of interfering with your decision. You have my word that we will not contact you further without your consent. I encourage you to keep your TPD bracelet, though. It was designed especially for you. Should you ever need us, it will be your way of contacting us.”
“Sure. I’ll keep it,” I say.
Narowyn stands and comes around the desk. “Shall we join the others for lunch?”
I get out of my chair, and she places a maternal arm around my shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.
Our conversation leaves me unsettled and unsure of myself. Narowyn seems caring and kind,
like a priest I’ve just confessed all my ugly sins to, and who likes me anyway. She very graciously accepted my decision, but something feels a little strange to me. It’s not that I don’t trust her—she exudes integrity and wisdom. And maybe I’m just imagining things, but I get the unmistakable feeling she fully expects to see me back here again.
THIRTY-EIGHT
The yellow dog is curled-up on the rug just outside Narowyn’s office. “I see you’ve made a friend,” she says. Callie springs to her feet, tail wagging, and nudges my palm with her wet nose. “Callie is a shrewd judge of character. I congratulate you on winning her affection.”
We follow the hallway to our left, Callie trailing behind, and enter a large dining room through double French doors. Crystal chandeliers sparkle above a long, wood-plank table, scarred from what appears to be years of hearty use. A blue-and-white printed runner spans the considerable length of the table, which is set with mismatched, French-looking pottery and brightly-colored water pitchers bursting with fresh flowers. A sturdy, red-painted hutch stands against one wall. An assortment of small, framed mirrors of varying shapes and sizes hangs on the wall above. The feel of the room is warm, homey, and haphazardly chic.
