“The pretender, Suter, I presume,” Ping said.
Standing up, she peeled a wet noodle off her jeans, tossed it into the sink. Movement drew her attention to the hallway leading to the front of the house. Yellow eyes turning away. She ran to the hall, slapped the light switch as she exited the kitchen. No power. The hall remained dark as she entered. No one was there.
She paused and listened, heard a creak she knew was the fifth step leading upstairs. She held up a hand as Ping approached.
“He’s going upstairs. Why don’t you see what he is up to? I’ll check on Mom,” she said, pointing around the corner where soft blue light reflected off the wall.
Ping nodded and headed toward the staircase.
Mara turned the corner, stepped through the wide entryway into the living room and gasped.
A bubble of blue translucent light filled the middle of the room, reaching from the edge of the fireplace to the couch, from the floor to the ceiling, centered over the circular Persian rug. Streaks of darker hues swept tidelike across the floating globe, casting waves of limpid indigo across the walls. Seated within, lotus style and facing each other, were Mara’s mother and a wispy transparent figure with her back to Mara. It was a woman, and she faded in and out of focus, rippled in time with the blue streaks flowing on the periphery of the bubble. They held something between them.
“Mom?” Mara stepped into the room. Static charged the air, raised the hair on her arms and on the back of her neck. She walked to the end of the couch, leaned to within an inch of the glowing barrier and called over the shoulder of the transparent woman. “Mom!”
Diana’s slack expression stayed frozen on the object she held with the other woman. Mara stepped sideways around the back of the couch, keeping her eyes on the bubble. Once she stood at the midpoint behind the couch, she looked down at her mother’s hands. Mara raised a shaking hand to her mouth. They held the Chronicle between them.
Mara glanced up at the other woman, took another step to the far end of the couch to get a better look at her transparent features. Mara froze. “Oh, my God.”
The sputtering, rippling figure sitting across from her mother was her mother. Mara’s first thought was it was only a reflection in the bubble or a trick of the shimmering lights, but the transparent woman solidified for a second, and it was clearly her mother. But it wasn’t. There were differences. This one had a marking, a tattoo of some kind on her forehead. Her eyes were different, the set of her jaw firmer. Her mother’s counterpart faded and rippled again, making it impossible to get a clear look.
Mara inhaled a shuddering breath and quickly returned to the opposite side of the room. Her mother looked pale, even more drawn than a few minutes before. Mara touched the perimeter of the bubble with a finger, sending circles of dark blue light rippling over the static barrier. She had to get her mother free from the bubble and the other Diana. Mara reached out with both hands.
Inside the bubble, her mother’s twin turned and smiled. Mara withdrew. The transparent woman turned back toward her mother and stared down at the Chronicle. The central crystal, the sunstone, began to radiate, emitting spiraling rays of gold into the bubble. The golden light intensified, swept along the edges and converged on the translucent woman. She began to dissolve into a radiant mist, reminding Mara of Mr. Sandoval when the Chronicle had transformed him and sent him to his own realm.
The mist that had been the woman swirled within the golden light and flowed toward the sunstone, then into it. Once all of it was gone, the rays of light faded away. Diana sat alone in the translucent blue bubble alone.
Mara exhaled and relaxed against the arm of the couch.
A single ray of light burst out of the Chronicle’s central crystal directly into her mother’s face. Diana’s eyes widened and glowed.
Yellow.
Mara jumped up and threw herself at the bubble. An electrical snap rang out as she was repelled, thrown over the couch toward the front door. The smell of ozone was the last thing she sensed before everything went black.
When she came to, Mara felt the joints in the wood flooring press into her cheek. She blinked her eyes, took a deep breath and waited for the numbness to go away. When feeling returned to her arms, she pushed herself up to her hands and knees. Looking toward the couch, she could only see the top of the bubble. She crawled to the couch, grabbed the back of it and lifted herself up. Standing in the center of the translucent globe, her mother faced the fireplace, her back to Mara.
“Mom?”
Diana turned around and gazed back at her, with yellow eyes.
Mara recoiled.
An inverted serpent coiled down from the center of her mother’s forehead, its diamond-shaped head laid across the bridge of her nose, flicking its inked tongue toward her left nostril. Her eyes glittered like mica around black pupils that narrowed into slits as they focused on Mara. Her right eyebrow arched and the corners of her lips curled upward in more of a sneer than a smile.
The bubble sputtered away as if someone had unplugged it, plunging the living room into darkness. On the end table next to one of the armchairs, a single lamp that flanked the fireplace illuminated, filling the room with muted light. Diana stood next to it with her hand held above the lampshade.
Mara walked around the end of the couch but stopped when she noticed the scars and bite marks along the woman’s neck. She wanted to look away but was transfixed by the serpent tattoo and the reptilian eyes. “What have you done to my mother?”
“Your mother is dead,” Diana said. “You should have come to the Altar of Hyas Tyee Tumwater as you were told. Since you disobeyed, I took matters into my own hands.”
“I don’t know anything about any altar. Where is my mother?” Mara’s face reddened.
“It is of no consequence now. Soon everything will be in its place.” She walked across the round Persian rug and stepped past the end of the couch where she stumbled for a second. Something skittered across the wood floor. Her mother’s demantoid, the green garnet, rolled to the base of the door.
“We’ll need to get rid of these rocks if I’m actually going to live in this shack,” Diana said.
Mara stepped into her path, crossed her arms. “You’re not going anywhere until I get my mother back.”
Diana tossed her head to the side. Mara flew over the couch and into the fireplace, striking her head on the mantel and crumpling onto the hearth.
CHAPTER 59
PING SAT ON the hearth, cradling Mara’s head, dabbing at a cut over her left eyebrow with a wet cloth. As she came to, she grabbed his arm hard enough to make him wince and sat up with a jolt.
“Ping, my mother—” Mara slumped back, dizzy, disoriented.
“Slowly. Don’t jerk around like that. You took a bad blow to the head.” Ping helped her sit up, grabbed her hand and placed it on the cloth, indicating he wanted her to hold it. “Where’s your mother? What happened?”
“She left, but it wasn’t my mother. I think it was Sam’s mother.”
“She crossed over? How is that possible?”
“They had the Chronicle. Both of them were sitting right here. Then there was just one, and it was her. My mom was gone.” Mara’s voice cracked, tears welled up. “She said my mother is dead.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Tell me exactly what you saw. If Sam’s mother crossed over, then your mother is still around here somewhere.”
“I don’t think she really crossed over. She and my mother were sitting there, holding the Chronicle between them. They were in the blue bubble. She was kind of fuzzy, out of focus. You could see through her, like the people on the plane before it crashed. Mom was solid, looked like she was in a trance but not in a healthy way. The other woman dissolved into the Chronicle and a light shot into my mom’s eyes. The next thing I know, she is sitting there in place of my mother, solid as you or me.”
“Amazing. So you are sure the woman you saw was not your mother?”
“That woman was not my mother. But that woman and my mothe
r were sitting there in the bubble. I saw both of them. Then Mom was gone.” Mara widened her eyes, tried to clear her vision. “What do you think happened?”
“I’m not sure. If I had to guess, I would say Diana, Sam’s mother, found a way to transfer herself into your mother’s body.” He paused a minute to think. “I suppose there is a certain logic to it, if that’s what she did.”
“What’s logical about being a body snatcher from an alternate reality?”
“Sam says his mother is paranoid. She would want to cross over without having to worry about encountering her counterpart, your mother, and being forced back to her own realm. It may be she has figured out a way to do that.”
“You’re saying we can’t send her back?”
“Not physically. If she transferred her consciousness into your mother’s body, sending her back physically using the Chronicle would be sending your mother’s body into a different realm.”
“If her consciousness is in my mother’s body, then where is my mother?”
“I’m not sure, but I think it is more complicated than that.”
“Why?”
“Each person actually has only one consciousness. Remember from our lessons at the warehouse. Each realm is a scenario being played out in the creation process. Your mother and the woman you saw in the bubble share the same consciousness. Metaphysically speaking, they are the same person. They’re just experiencing different scenarios in different realms. It’s not really their consciousness that is separate. It’s their experiences, knowledge and beliefs.”
“Ping, I don’t really care what you call it. I’m not interested in a metaphysics lesson right now. I want my mom back, and I want that thing, whatever you want to call it, out of her.”
“It’s important for you to understand what is going on, Mara. If you don’t, you have no hope of helping your mother or stopping Diana. Possessing your mother’s body is just a first step in her plans. Remember, Sam said she wanted to bring her followers with her. She is just getting started. If we do not stop her, I think this realm is going to be very different, very quickly. Dealing with the crossovers from the flight will look like child’s play compared to what this woman has in mind.”
Ping paused for a minute. Mara pressed her lips together so tightly blood left them.
“Sam’s mother may not be a progenitor, but she’s obviously a force to be reckoned with. Her understanding and belief in these concepts are a huge advantage. Even though you have more power than you realize, you are still a neophyte compared to her. You need to be able to see beyond the limitations of your experiences in this realm to deal with her. To stop her, you may need to do unthinkable things.”
“Like what?”
Ping gazed at her. He gave her time to consider his implications.
“No way, Ping. There’s no way I’m going to hurt my own mother.” She stopped shaking her head and glared. “I can’t do that. I won’t. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to save her, but I won’t do that.”
“All I’m asking you to do is open your mind to the possibilities beyond your own perceptions in this realm. We are just one reality among limitless possibilities. It may be that this scenario is supposed to end for some of us. We will go on in others. You, Sam, your mother and me will go on, no matter what happens in this one realm. We have not had time to consider and discuss all the ramifications of what a progenitor does. Remember the element of Consequence. The actions you take may affect people in ways you cannot imagine right now.”
“I think I understand what you are telling me, but I hope you won’t mind if I try to make sure we all go on in this realm for a little longer.” Mara glanced toward the ceiling. “What happened to Suter? I’m assuming that was Suter who ran up the stairs.”
“I think you are correct. I would never have recognized him. He went out a window. He seems able to scale walls quite easily.”
“He also appears to be working with Sam’s mom. He must have brought the Chronicle out here at some point after Missy stole it.” Mara stood up, removed the cloth from her forehead and stepped toward the front door.
“Where are you going?” Ping asked, reaching for and missing her elbow.
“After Mom, Sam’s mom, whoever. We’ve got to fix this and soon.”
“Where do you think she went?”
“I don’t know. She couldn’t have gone far. Mom’s car hasn’t left the driveway, so she’s on foot.”
“Did she give any indication where she was going?”
“No. She was bent out of shape about me not bringing the Chronicle to that altar she mentioned the day she zapped Sam. You know, when I activated the Chronicle at the warehouse.”
“Hyas Tyee something, right?” Ping asked.
“Hyas Tyee Tumwater. She called it the Altar of Hyas Tyee Tumwater. Now it sounds familiar for some reason.”
“Familiar how?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve heard the phrase before, I think,” she said. She grabbed the doorknob and turned it. “Are you coming?”
“Mara, let’s do a quick search online about that phrase. Maybe it will give us an idea of where she is going. I think it would be better than running around in the night, hoping we can track her down.”
“We don’t even know that she’s going to this altar now.”
“It’s the only clue we have. It won’t hurt to look.”
“Five minutes and I’m out of here. I left my laptop at the shop. Mom’s computer is upstairs. We can do a quick search up there.”
*
Sam sat in the passenger seat of Ping’s Camry at the curb in front of Mara’s house, leaning against the door, drumming his fingers on the dashboard to “All Along the Watchtower” by Jimi Hendrix on Portland’s KGON, 92.3, a classic rock station, when someone yanked open the door. He tumbled out of the car onto the sidewalk. Facing up into the night sky, it took him a moment to focus on the face looking down at him. The car’s interior lights provided just enough illumination to make out the predatory yellow eyes and coiled serpent tattoo.
“Hello, son,” Diana said. “How about a kiss for your dear mother?”
Something stirred above his head, out of his field of vision. Diana looked at someone just off the sidewalk. “No, no, put that away,” she said. “We need Sam for the consecration rite.”
Sam scurried to his hands and knees and looked up. A moist scaly man-thing with an exposed ridge of bone splitting his brow stood beside his mother brandishing a butcher knife. He hissed and twitched. His tattered business suit was soaked with blood, sweat and unidentifiable viscera.
“Do you know how to operate this vehicle?” Diana said to Suter.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded.
“Good. Let’s go. We’ve got work to do.” She eyed Sam. “Get in, you’re going too.”
“We can’t take this car. I don’t have the keys,” Sam lied.
Diana placed her hand on the hood. The engine turned over, and the lights came on.
“Get in the car, both of you.” She ducked into the passenger seat and slammed the door.
Sam did not move. Suter grabbed his arm with one four-fingered claw and raised the knife in the other. He yanked on the arm and tried to shove Sam toward the backseat. The boy held his ground, refused to move. Suter turned and locked eyes with him. Swallowing hard, Sam suppressed his gag reflex and stared back at the wet craggy face.
“You have to kill her. Once we get in the car, kill Diana,” Sam said, just above a whisper. “Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Suter said, opening the back door.
Sam stepped into the car. Suter opened his own door and slid behind the wheel, still holding onto the butcher knife.
“Let’s go,” Diana said, staring straight ahead. “It’s time to begin the crossing.” She pointed down Second Street to Center.
Suter lifted the knife in a backswing over the steering wheel and plunged it toward the passenger seat. Diana’s yellow eyes widened in the dark car. She pr
essed into her seat and raised her right hand.
Suter froze. The tip of the blade stopped just as it touched the shoulder of Diana’s shirt, with enough pressure to dimple the fabric but not enough to pierce it. Diana reached over, unwrapped his fingers from the knife and took it from him. He did not move or react. To Sam, he looked like a paused movie.
“That was a serious mistake, young man,” Diana said, pointing the knife to the backseat. A bolt of lightning jumped from the tip of the blade to Sam’s chest, throwing him into the door. His head slammed into the window, sending a web of cracks spidering outward. He slumped to the floor behind the front seat.
Diana lowered the window and threw the knife into her counterpart’s front lawn. She turned back to Suter and said, “Can we please get on with it?”
CHAPTER 60
MARA SAT AT the cluttered desk in her mother’s small office upstairs trying to figure out how to spell Hyas Tyee Tumwater. After a couple unproductive attempts, the search engine displayed a link with a spelling for which it had results. She clicked to accept the suggestion. Her eyes widened when she read the first result.
“It’s Willamette Falls. Hyas Tyee Tumwater is what the settlers called Willamette Falls. It’s Chinook jargon, Native American,” Mara said.
Ping leaned over her shoulder “That’s close to Oregon City, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s near downtown, just a few minutes from here.”
“Does it say anything about an altar?”
“There isn’t that much information here. Some references to Chinook languages and phrases, and the history of the area. How can an altar be in the middle of a waterfall? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Perhaps the name just refers to the area. It doesn’t necessarily have to be in the middle of the river. Do a search for Willamette Falls. Maybe we’ll see some references that make more sense.”
Mara entered Willamette Falls. The first result was a link to Wikipedia. She clicked on it and scanned the information.
“Blah, blah, natural waterfall, fifteen hundred feet wide, forty feet deep. Canal and locks were closed in 2011. Native American legends believed the falls were put there by a great god so they would have fish to eat. I’m not seeing anything about an altar.”
Broken Realms (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 1) Page 31
