Broken Realms (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 1)

by Moneypenny, D. W.

  “Absolutely amazing.” Ping ogled, slowing turning to take in the entire display. “This appears to be a graphical representation of the progress of creation. How things have gone up to this point. I believe the nodes represent the realms. It truly is a chronicle of creation.” His brow furrowed. “I wonder why the nodes in front you two have so many parent lines. I suspect all of the crossing over from other realms may have gnarled things up.”

  “Okay, what do we do with it?” Mara asked. “How do we use it to send people back to where they belong?”

  “I’m not sure. What happens when you touch one of those nodes?”

  “No, that’s a bad idea. It opens up and tries to suck you in. I lost a bunch of office supplies doing that.”

  “That’s how you open a portal to a realm,” Sam said, looking at Mara. “If you want to send someone back, you touch the node and it will pull them back.”

  “How do I keep it from sucking me in?” Mara asked.

  “It pulls hardest on someone from its own realm. See how these nodes are in front of Ping and me? Those are our realms. If you touch them, they will open, and we’ll be pulled back.”

  “How do you know all of this?”

  “I used to hide and watch my sister do this.”

  “Did you ever hear one of these nodes talking to her?”

  “What? A node was talking?”

  “Yeah, I heard a voice. It said something about an altar, like ‘bring it to the Altar of Hyas-something.’”

  “Altar?” Fear swept across his face. “Which node did the voice come from?”

  “I think it was the one in front of you. That one there.” Mara pointed to the node in front of Sam. “It’s starting to glow.”

  Sam turned and backpedaled. The node floated after him, keeping its position relative as he staggered away. “Turn it off. Shut it down!” he yelled, a tremor cracking his voice. The node shone brighter as it pursued him.

  Mara froze.

  A voice reverberated throughout the warehouse.

  “You killed your sister,” it said.

  A burst of jagged blue light shot out of the node and struck Sam in the chest, flipping him head over heels backward in the air. A sneaker flew off his foot and hit the ceiling. A scorched, smoldering starburst burned away Wiley Coyote on the front of his T-shirt. He was unconscious before landing on his shoulder in front of the whiteboard more than a hundred feet away.

  “Bring it to the Altar of Hyas Tyee Tu—”

  “Enough!” Mara yelled.

  The bubble collapsed. The ball of light winked out. The medallion fell from the air, rolled on its circumference for several seconds in ever-tightening circles and fell onto its back. Light from a distant high window refracted through the blue crystals, creating small blue smears on the floor, but the Chronicle was no longer active.

  CHAPTER 36

  A WISP OF smoke rose from Sam’s chest. Ping raised the shirt and determined the blast had not burned through to the boy’s skin. He sat down on the floor, lifted Sam’s head and patted him on the cheek.

  “Sam, can you hear me? Sam!”

  The boy moaned and rocked his head back and forth. Soon he opened his eyes and sat up with a start. “Whoa, what happened?”

  “Hold on. Let’s make sure nothing’s broken. How do you feel?”

  “Like I just got struck by lightning,” he said, looking down at the scorch mark on his chest, rubbing it with his hands. He rolled his shoulders. “I think I’m going to be sore, but I don’t think there’s anything broken.”

  He made a move to stand up and fell back, dizzy.

  “Just sit there for a few minutes and catch your breath. We’re not going anywhere,” Ping said.

  “What was that all about?” Mara asked, tossing the shoe that had flown off Sam’s foot to him. “Do either of you know who that voice is?”

  Ping and Sam looked at each other, and then back at Mara.

  “It was my mother,” Sam said.

  “Your mother? Your mother did that with the lightning, intentionally? Was she trying to kill you or what?”

  “I think if she had wanted to kill me, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.”

  “I don’t understand. If she wasn’t trying to kill you, then what?”

  “She was punishing me. I guess Mara was killed in the accident on the plane,” he said. “She sounds upset.”

  Mara turned and looked at Ping. “Why do I get the feeling there is more going on here than you guys have told me?”

  “We’re not trying to hide anything from you. The reason we are here is to help you understand everything that is going on. We would have done it sooner, but you weren’t exactly receptive until recently,” Ping said.

  “Okay, explain to me how his mother can talk to us and shoot lightning bolts through that thing from a completely different realm.”

  “I didn’t know she could do that until just now. Did you?” Ping asked, looking at Sam.

  “No. Nothing like this.”

  “I think it’s time you told Mara how all this got started, assuming you are up to it.”

  Sam nodded and took a deep breath. He stood up and brushed off his pants, taking a few seconds to make sure his balance had returned. He walked over to his place in the makeshift classroom and pointed at the two other mats, inviting Mara and Ping to sit. They sat.

  “My mother is the matriarch of a Basiliscan cult,” he said, holding up his hand when Mara attempted to ask a question. “They revere basilisks—lizards, serpents and dragons. It is an old and powerful religion that uses these creatures as part of their worship.”

  Mara pointed to the tattoo on Sam’s forearm. “Thus, the snake tattoo on your arm,” Mara said.

  He extended his arm and nodded, rubbing his fingers over it. “One of the rituals, called an extraction rite, involves using a two-headed serpent to draw power from a person and give it to the matriarch. One of the creature’s heads bites the neck of the victim, the other the neck of the matriarch. During the ritual, the serpent strips the power from the victim and gives it to the matriarch.”

  “Charming. What happens to the victim?” Mara asked.

  “They are fed to the meat-eaters.”

  “Meat-eaters?”

  “The larger lizards and dragons that eat meat.”

  “Ick. Go on.”

  “For years my mother has been gathering abilities from other realms. I knew she was powerful, but I had no idea she could do anything like what she did today.”

  “So your mother is a progenitor? She could use the Chronicle to cross over to other realms and kidnap people for her rituals?”

  “No. Mara did that for her.”

  “My mother is a pretender—a powerful one—but still just a pretender.”

  Mara turned to Ping. “I thought a pretender could only alter the realm they were in. This seems like she is able to do a lot more than that.”

  “It sounds to me like she has developed the ability to strip a portion of the consciousness from people and gather it to herself for her own purposes. I have never heard or read of such a thing. She must have a very strong belief in her serpents,” Ping said.

  “Her religious belief matters?” Mara asked.

  “Remember from our lesson this morning? I said that consciousness is the raw material of all things, but belief, knowledge and awareness are the tools that are used to shape it. If she and her followers have the conviction that she can take power from someone in this manner, it is possible for them to develop the ability,” he said. “You usually only see abilities like this in a progenitor.”

  Mara turned back to Sam. “What does all this have to do with how you got here? Was your sister coming over to grab someone for one of your mom’s rituals?”

  “Not exactly,” he said, hesitant to continue.

  “Go ahead. She needs to know,” Ping said.

  “Mara was practicing with the Chronicle to see if she could bring a large group of people across all at once. That
was what she tried to do on the plane. She wanted to see if she could get all the passengers to cross over safely.”

  “She was trying to bring a planeload of people from your realm to this one?”

  “Yes. But, I grabbed the Chronicle from her once she had activated it. You saw what happened after that.”

  “Why would she want to bring a planeload of people here?”

  “My mother wanted to cross over to this realm, but she wanted to bring her followers with her, and they weren’t sure if they would be able to do it.”

  “What would be the point of that? Why did they want to cross over?”

  “Things aren’t so great where I come from. Like I said, there are food shortages, pollution, disease, little drinking water, poverty and crime. It’s a complete nightmare compared to this place. The Basiliscans have used up or destroyed all the resources of that realm, and they now want to come to this one.”

  “Why this one?”

  “The people here are pretty naive, and Diana thinks they’ll be easy to control.”

  Mara froze at the mention of her mother’s name. She had not connected the voice from the distant realm to her own crystal-gazing pacifist mother. Her pulse sped up.

  “So why did you try to stop Mara on the plane? What’s it to you if they come to this realm and take over?”

  “Our, I mean, my mother is paranoid. She would not cross over to this realm if she could be forced back by interacting with her counterpart here. To inoculate herself, she developed a ritual she thought would protect her,” Sam said, pausing for a second. “I don’t know all of the details, but, for it to work, she had to have a sacrifice.”

  “What kind of sacrifice?”

  “One of her own children, and she had no intention of sacrificing Mara.”

  “Your own mother wanted to kill you?”

  Sam nodded, looked down.

  Mara turned to Ping. “Would it be necessary for her to sacrifice Sam in order to cross over and stay here safely? Does that make sense?”

  “If she and her followers need a sacrifice to believe it, then it would make sense,” Ping said.

  Mara looked back at Sam. “But if you stopped them, there would be no need for a sacrifice.”

  He nodded. “Diana would not cross over without her followers. So, if they could not get here, she would not need to do the ritual.”

  “What about this altar? She said, ‘bring it to the Altar of Hyas Tyee.’ I got the impression she was talking about the Chronicle. That she wanted me to bring it to this altar. Where is that?”

  “I’ve never heard that name before. I don’t know where it is or if it is an actual place. Mom’s cult uses stone altars in its rituals. If she conducts a sacrifice, it would be over a stone altar surrounded by serpent pillars.”

  “Serpent pillars?”

  Sam extended his arm and pointed to the tattoo. The snake was coiled around a square column that narrowed toward the top, capped by a pyramid.

  “It’s an obelisk,” Ping said.

  “It’s the symbol of the basilisks,” Sam said.

  “Is there any chance she can get here without the Chronicle?” Mara looked to Ping.

  “Even though she seems to be able to communicate through it when it is active, I can’t imagine she could cross over to this realm without your help,” Ping said.

  “There is no other way for her to get here? She seems to be able to do things you guys aren’t aware of. Maybe—”

  “I think as long as we keep the Chronicle, we don’t have to worry about her,” Ping said.

  CHAPTER 37

  THE FOLLOWING EVENING, after locking up the shop, Mara walked over to the bakery to keep her appointment with Ping. She had agreed to go with him to the warehouse again, even though she was not clear on what they would be doing. She had no intention of activating the Chronicle and encountering Sam’s lizard-loving mother again. As she walked up to the front of the bakery, Ping stepped out and turned to lock the door.

  “Where’s Sam?” Mara asked.

  “I ran him home a little while ago. He’s got homework, and, to be honest with you, I think the incident yesterday took more out of him than he is willing to admit in front of you.”

  “Why would I matter?”

  “Just a boy not wanting to look weak in front of his older sis—” Ping stopped himself. “Sorry. You know what I mean.”

  “I’m not sure I do, but I’ll let it go.”

  She followed Ping to his Camry and got into the passenger seat. “I’d be out of sorts, too, if my mother spanked me with lightning bolts and wanted to sacrifice me to a lizard god. And I thought my mom was a freak.”

  “Clever comments aside, just try to remember there’s a real boy there who has been through some very traumatic experiences.” He pulled away from the curb in front of their businesses, keeping his eyes on traffic, not looking at Mara. “You and I cannot conceive of the abuses he has endured and the things he has seen. Making light of them, however unintended, could be very hurtful.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know. You are just dealing with things in your own way.” He turned north toward the warehouse. “You may not ever acknowledge him as your brother, but that does not mean you can’t appreciate what he has been through. It doesn’t mean you can’t be his friend.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Mara looked down at her hands. “I guess I haven’t fully realized these are real people crossing over from other realms. I will try to be better.”

  “We are all learning as we go,” Ping said.

  They rode in silence the rest of the way to the warehouse.

  *

  Ping turned on only the bank of lights above the makeshift classroom in the center of the empty warehouse, so they sat on their mats facing each other in front of the whiteboard in a square of light surrounded by inky darkness. It felt like sitting on a stage surrounded by a silent audience.

  “Do you have any questions before we get started?” he asked.

  “Yes. You said you were going to help me get my life back, help me deal with these passengers who have crossed over. I’m not seeing how any of what we have done so far helps me do that,” she said. “I get that maybe we could use the power of the Chronicle to send some of them back if they show up, but with Sam’s mother able to strike at us through the Chronicle, that could be dangerous.”

  “Well, the first thing we should clear up is that the Chronicle doesn’t have any power. It does not give you power. You give it power. Its abilities flow from you, not the other way around. You are a progenitor. You have the ability to draw consciousness into reality. You can shape reality in any way you wish.”

  “You said that yesterday, but I don’t know what that means. I don’t really get all this metaphysical stuff. Do you mean I can influence events to change my life, my environment?”

  “Mara, I am not speaking metaphorically. I mean you can change reality, literally.” Ping turned and reached for a marker in the tray of the whiteboard and held it up. “If you wanted, you could turn this marker into a piece of cheese.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “You have to believe. You have to know you can do it.”

  “Well, there’s the rub,” she said. “I’m not believing it.”

  “That’s why we are here. We are going to see if we can get you to believe enough to tap into your abilities.”

  “Okay.” She threw up her hands, surrendering.

  “Just keep an open mind. Remember, a week ago you did not believe in people from other realms or that you could activate the Chronicle. There are things in this world that you do not believe that you can come to believe. Follow?”

  “I understand. I have a thick skull, but I’m not completely hopeless.”

  “Some people who want to develop their metaphysical abilities focus their energies, or consciousness, on certain objects called talismans, sort of metaphysical training wheels. Using a talisman
is not required, but the literature indicates that they are a good tool for beginners. I thought we would try a few things and see if we get any results.”

  He sat the marker on the floor next to his mat, stood up and walked over to the metal closet next to the whiteboard. When he turned around, he held a roughly oval-shaped pale yellow crystal slightly larger than a softball.

  “Do you recognize this?”

  “It’s bytownite, I believe. My mom has a couple of them. She says it helps people intellectually, helps them to know what to do with their lives.”

  “How appropriate.” He smiled, returned to his mat and sat the crystal on the ground between them. “I want you to focus on this crystal.”

  “To what end?”

  “What does your mother do with her crystals?”

  “She meditates. I think it calms her, makes her feel centered.”

  “Okay, why don’t you do that for now? While you are doing that, I will run out and get some dinner. Hamburgers and fries okay for you?”

  “I suppose. Just meditate?”

  “Yes. Focus on the crystal and try to imagine what you could use it for, metaphysically speaking.”

  Mara listened to Ping’s footsteps fade away into the darkness and stared at the crystal sitting on the ground before her. She strained to see deeper into it, past the glass surface, into the various facets inside. Squinting, she perceived the refracted light shifting, bending at new angles, rotating in one direction, then another. It burst forward, enveloping her. Bands of golden light expanded and contracted as they danced along the periphery of her vision, some darkening to brown, others fading away to yellow. Her eyes moved with the light. No, the light followed her eyes.

  She thought about a kaleidoscope she had had as a child and how the bands of light split into fractals rolling into bursts of geometric patterns that folded in on themselves. Lines formed triangles; triangles merged to make diamonds; diamonds clustered into florid spinning wheels of light. She pushed back with her mind, and the golden rays receded to a shimmering halo around the stone.

  The echo of footsteps and the smell of French fries drew her away from the light. It weakened, sputtered and then went out entirely.