Time Dancers (28 page)

I hadn’t thought of the Bitxileiho in years. I remembered the helplessness, the inability to move, and the cold terror of the infinite. The experience is unique to the Meq, but necessary for our “maturity.” It is also the place and state of mind where we cross in the Zeharkatu. However, because of her “visions,” for Nova the experience might prove dangerous or harmful.

“Do you think she’ll be…all right?” I asked.

“I do not know,” Geaxi answered. “It is a chance we must take. We may not have another opportunity for years.” Geaxi paused, then asked, “Do you agree, young Zezen?”

I didn’t like it, but I also knew its importance. “Yes, I agree. Have you contacted Willie?”

“Yes, he will be waiting for us in London. From there, we head straight for Giggleswick in northern England.”

I studied Geaxi’s eyes. She gave nothing away, as always, but I could tell she didn’t look forward to the event. “Good luck,” I said.

“Yes, well, let us hope we shall not need it.”

Antoine and Nova returned fifteen minutes later. They sat down with disappointed looks on their faces. The man they had gone to see was in Chartres and would not be back until August 1.

Geaxi turned to me and said, “Perfect.” Then she looked at Nova and said, “Nova, we need to talk.”

Early in the morning on June 29, a total eclipse of the sun passed through Wales and swept across North Yorkshire. There was only one place along its path where it was visible from the ground—Giggleswick. The weather before the eclipse had been miserable, but a sudden break in the clouds allowed witnesses there to experience twenty-four seconds of totality. Geaxi, Nova, and Willie observed and experienced it from the school grounds in Giggleswick, along with dozens of astronomers and photographers. In Paris, at about the same time, I was still asleep—and dreaming.

It was winter in St. Louis. I was in Sportsman’s Park, standing at home plate. The grandstands were empty and the entire field was covered in snow. Dressed in black, the umpire stood on the mound with his back to me, facing center field. I felt the bat in my hands, but I couldn’t see it. The umpire turned and stared at me. He wore a mask, which he removed slowly with one hand. But one mask only revealed another. A chill ran through me. He seemed to smile beneath the mask and threw the pitch at high velocity. I saw a sphere racing toward me. It was white, but it was not a baseball. It was a snowball, which then became a snowflake, spinning through space like a wheel with six spokes. I swung and everything went white. I woke up breathing hard and fast, as if I had been sprinting for my life.

When Geaxi and Nova returned to Paris two days later, I knew the instant I looked into Nova’s eyes that twenty-four seconds of totality had been enough time to affect her deeply. There was calmness, resolve, and wisdom in her I had never seen before. Nova had changed completely. I saw a new purpose, or direction. She reminded me a great deal of her papa. She and Geaxi were standing just inside the door of Antoine and Emme’s apartment. Antoine was out, and Emme and Mercy were in the kitchen.

“You’ve seen your papa, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, slightly startled. “How did you know, Zianno?”

“I can see him in your eyes.”

“He came directly through the Window, Zianno. He was like a star as bright and blue as Sirius. He spoke in a way that was similar to ‘the Voice,’ but not quite the same. He told me there was no longer any need to fear my visions. He said I could learn from them…we could all learn from them.”

“He’s right,” I said.

“I know that now. Somehow, in some way, my papa has released me, Zianno. It sounds naïve, silly almost, but I finally, firmly realized I am not losing my mind.”

I told her I once felt the same way about my dreams. Then I turned and asked Geaxi if the Bitxileiho had been a pleasant experience for her.

“I assume that is another one of your attempts at humor and irony, no?” She had one eyebrow raised and was glaring at me. “The Bitxileiho is never
fun,
young Zezen. Nor is it a ‘pleasant experience,’ at least not for me. I could easily pass an eternity without experiencing another.”

Before I could respond, Antoine burst through the door and ran into Geaxi. She tumbled forward in one graceful somersault, then leaped to her feet and spun in a quick pirouette to see who or what had hit her. Antoine apologized immediately, then went on to say he had heard from the stained-glass artist. The man had contacted Antoine and informed him that Rune Balle was currently in Chartres, repairing and restoring the ancient stained-glass windows high above the clerestory in Chartres Cathedral. The man had seen Balle and spoken with him only a week ago. Geaxi suggested we leave on the spot and Nova agreed. I looked at Antoine. Chartres was very near Paris; however, I could tell he was reluctant to leave Emme, even for a day. She might go into labor at any moment.

Geaxi noticed his anxiety and said, “This time, Antoine, you should stay here.”

He smiled gratefully. “
Oui,
mademoiselle. This is the choice I prefer.
Merci.
”

Geaxi and Nova took baths and changed clothes while I waited for them in the kitchen. I watched Emme talking with Mercy. Her belly was big and round as a giant, prize-winning melon, which she was massaging gently with her fingertips. I knew she would probably have her baby before we returned. Emme seemed to sense what I was thinking and said, “Zianno, I would like your blessing before I go into the hospital.”

“You have it, Emme, but you won’t need it. Everything will be fine. You’re an expert. I’ve seen you deliver a baby before. Remember?”

She laughed. “I could never forget,” she said.

Half an hour later, we were in the street and on our way to catch a train for Chartres. Emme sent along roast lamb sandwiches and cucumbers, and we ate them on the train as the sun set in the west. A faint mist and drizzle caused the light coming through the glass of the window to fracture and dance in patterns and shades of gold, pink, and tangerine.

“Do you enjoy that effect, Zianno?” Geaxi asked.

“Yes,” I answered, “yes, I do.”

Geaxi took a large bite from her sandwich and stared out the window as she ate. A full minute passed. Quietly and without elaboration, she said, “Then you shall likely enjoy Rune Balle.”

Sudden violence, or the nearness of it, when felt or sensed in advance, gives any warrior, hunter, or shepherd a primary advantage in any conflict—the element of surprise. The Meq have always had this ability, especially when traveling together. As we approached the gothic Chartres Cathedral, I noticed its twin spires rising into the night sky like two black blades. Nova, Geaxi, and I each sensed an imminent danger within.

We raced to the three massive front doors. They were all locked. Geaxi led the way around the corner and along the south wall, stopping suddenly in front of a small doorway almost hidden from view. The door was open. Geaxi seemed to know it would be there.

“How…?”

“Never mind,” she said. “Follow me.”

Without hesitation, I reached for the Stone in my pocket. Simultaneously, Geaxi and Nova reached for their Stones. Geaxi also carried hers in her pocket. Nova wore hers on a leather necklace, which she removed and held in her palm. Even in the darkness the gems sparkled bright and brilliant around the Stone of Silence. My Stone and Geaxi’s were no more than heavy, pitted oval rocks—two black eggs, but regardless of their appearance, we would need all three.

We entered a narrow hall and moved quickly until we came to a small opening, which led to another opening covered by a thick curtain. Geaxi parted the curtain, revealing the vast interior of the great cathedral. There were no lights on, but a few candles were burning on top of scaffolding erected along the far wall and extending out into the church, ending forty feet in the air above the inlaid stones of the Chartres Labyrinth. On the highest platform a struggle was taking place, causing the scaffolding to shake and sound as if it might be coming apart. The two Maori assassins we had interrupted in St. Louis were about to murder or torture a man they were holding between them. They had torn open the man’s shirt and they held him in the air with one hand apiece. Each had pearl-handled daggers in the other hand. The captured man had wild gray hair and a ragged beard. He was screaming at the Maoris in Norwegian. It was Rune Balle. He yelled,
“Morder! Morder! Snikmorder! Din mor liv inn helvete!”

Geaxi began climbing the scaffolding without taking her eyes off the Maoris. Nova and I tried to keep pace. Geaxi climbed silently and quickly. In seconds we were over the top. The Maoris stood ten feet away. They had their daggers poised. Rune Balle screamed something, then spit in their faces. The daggers started forward.

“Hear ye, hear ye now, Giza!” Geaxi droned, holding the Stone out and pointing in their direction. Nova and I joined her.
“Lo geltitu, lo geltitu, Ahaztu!”
we said in unison. The Maoris dropped their daggers instantly and stood with their arms at their sides. Their tattooed faces went blank, their eyes dulled. Almost automatically, we added, “Turn and go now, Giza, go like lambs.
Ahaztu!
”

It was an ill-fated command for the Maoris. We had unintentionally sent them to their deaths. They turned with puzzled expressions and calmly walked in the opposite direction, off the scaffolding and into thin air, falling forty feet and landing headfirst and dead center on the six-petaled rosette at the heart of the Chartres Labyrinth.

Rune Balle had dropped to his knees. He rubbed his chest where the daggers would have pierced his heart. He crawled to the edge of the platform and stared down at the Maoris and the blood spreading across the stone floor. From the height of the platform, their blood looked black instead of red. He turned to us and said something in Norwegian, then in French.

Geaxi said, “In English, Rune, speak in English, please. Your nephew said you speak English fluently.”

Rune looked down at the Maoris. He let out a long sigh, then took in a few deep breaths. He rubbed his chest again and spit twice, watching the spit fall until it hit their bodies. Geaxi let him gather himself. He looked up at her. “Do I know you?” he asked.

“No, however, we were scheduled to meet not long ago through your nephew. Unfortunately, circumstances prevented it.”

“Do you mean my nephew Knut? In Trondheim?”

“Yes.”

Rune Balle ran his eyes over the three of us, studying us carefully from head to toe. His eyes were pale blue and piercing. Sharp features, tangled long hair, and scruffy beard, along with his shirt being ripped to shreds, gave him the look of a captured Viking. He focused on the Stones we still held in our hands, particularly Nova’s with the embedded gems. “I have heard of those,” he said, rubbing his chest. “He told me of them once in the mountains…and what they could do. I thought it was a fable.”

“He?” All three of us practically shouted.

“Who is
‘he’
?” I added.

Rune Balle stood and looked down into my eyes. He was at least a foot taller. “Your eyes are dark, each of you. His were green.” He paused, then went on. “Other than that, the boy resembled all three of you.”

“Is he the one who bought your property?” Geaxi asked.

“No. A man the boy referred to as ‘Uncle Raza’ purchased the farm. I believe the man was Hindu. His name was Raza Vejahashala. The boy was the strangest boy I ever met. They requested a tour of the farm and all the surrounding mountains. I had several unusual structures on the farm. One was a greenhouse, where I maintained a rose garden year round. The boy seemed overjoyed with it, but his joy was expressed in a bitter, haunting laugh that has echoed in my mind ever since.”

I glanced at Geaxi and Nova again. It was the Fleur-du-Mal without a doubt. Then another thought came to me—Zuriaa! Searching for her presence, I turned in a slow circle. The cathedral was vast and the light dim, but Zuriaa was nowhere near. Geaxi, Nova, and I all wondered the same thing—who sent the Maoris, and why? It didn’t make sense.

Nova picked up an old red sweater lying on the platform between two trays of stained glass. “Yours?” she said, handing it to Rune Balle.

He removed what was left of his torn shirt and pulled on the sweater. “
Takk.
Thank you,” he said.

“Could you tell us where to find your farm?” she asked. “We will be glad to pay for the information.”

“There is no need,” he said, “I will take you there myself.” He gazed down at the two dead men lying on the cathedral floor in the center of the labyrinth. “My work here is finished.”

We would have left Paris the next day, except Emme decided to have a beautiful baby girl at ten after ten in the morning. The baby weighed eight pounds, two ounces and was twenty inches long. Her skin was the color of milk and coffee, her eyes were dark, and tiny black curls covered her head. She was given the name Antoinette PoPo Boutrain. A day later, Emme would sign a paper naming Antoinette’s godparents—Mercy Whitney and Zianno Zezen. I couldn’t have been more proud. Geaxi and Nova agreed to delay our departure another day in order for us to visit Emme and Antoinette in the hospital. By that time, the police had informed Rune Balle he should not leave Chartres until the investigation was complete. Rune was not suspected of any wrongdoing, but the Maoris carried no papers or identification on their persons. Along with tattooed faces and expensive dark suits, the Maoris were a mystery and their strange deaths warranted further study. After two weeks of futile investigation, Rune Balle was told he was free to travel at will. The police had found no clues whatsoever and the Maoris were simply filed away and forgotten.

During that time, Antoine had been listening to some of our discussions about where we were going and why. Antoine believed we would need assistance in eliminating the Fleur-du-Mal, though he never mentioned him by name. He said he had known many assassins, but none as cruel or invisible as our “friend.” I reminded Antoine he had just become a father and he ought to remain in Paris. He still insisted on going. Geaxi, Nova, and I all said no, and I was surprised when Emme said he should go. Through PoPo and me, she had learned long ago of the Fleur-du-Mal and his infamy. He needed to be stopped and Antoine could help. She said Mitch and Mercy would give her all the assistance she needed, while Antoinette would give her more than enough love, and all of them would pray for our safe and swift return. Still, we said no.