Published: 31 Oct 2019
Power Applied
“Oliver’s task at this place and time had been accomplished and he left soon after. TomTom and he continued to write to one another. TomTom and Casey did become boyfriends.”
“Did they go to another world?” Petrus asks.
“There are some stories I cannot tell,” Alexis says, “and some I may not tell.” There is no teasing, no humor in his voice. The boys understand. All the boys except Petrus, that is.
Petrus gasps. “Then they did!”
“Think what you will; and think the most happy of things,” Alexis says. “That, and no more will I tell you.”
The next morning, Rudy is reading an old scroll, while Marty and Chandler renew the magic in the lasers that illuminate the lab. When they finish, they sit on either side of Rudy.
“How did you learn the spell?” Chandler asks Rudy.
“The books – the ones Marty was translating,” Rudy replies. “The ones from the other Earth. Remember, this was my laboratory, some 5,000 years ago. The books were here. Marty – you taught me the alphabet, remember? But you were more interested in the journal. I translated the grimoire.”
“Are the books still here? May I see them?” Rudy asks.
Marty unseals the compartment in the workbench where the books had been hidden for centuries. “I haven’t looked at these since we came back,” he says. “After you’ve examined them, perhaps Andy should see them.”
The instant Marty opens the compartment, and some 5,000 miles away, across the eastern sea, a boy who was a dragonrider in another time looks up from his work. My books? My books! They are here!
“How is Xander?” Phillip asks.
Shortly after they arrived in Argon’s town and time, Javari and Maranon had bartered their services for a share in a fishing boat larger than the second Xander, the one on which they’d crossed the sea to Elvenhold. It had taken nearly 40 years, but now they owned the boat outright. As soon as she was theirs, they rename her.
“She’s shipshape and Bristol fashion,” Javari smiles.
“Would you like to go out with us tomorrow?” Maranon asks.
“How would you feel about returning to the western continent – the western continent of this era?” Phillip asks.
“If that is what you want, of course it is what we want, as well,” Javari says.
“I don’t like asking you to risk your ship,” Phillip says. “You and Maranon worked so hard—”
“But Xander is not our ship,” Maranon says. “She is yours, as is everything we have. Our oaths still bind us.”
Phillip is stunned. “I didn’t know that was part of the oath!” he protests.
Maranon hugs Phillip. “I’m so glad we can still surprise you,” he whispers.
“The books – the ones that were left behind when we came here from that cave?” Phillip begins. The other boys understand, and he continues. “They’re here, now. Not here as in Beringia, but here as in this time. And they’re somewhere to the southwest. Possibly in the cave where we left them. I would like to find them. I would like to know where they have been. I would like to know why I feel them, and why it is only today that I do.”
The Xander flies the flag of Elvenhold with an oak tree proper, a white courtesy flag, and a swallow from the topmost mast. Phillip decides to fly the Elvish flag, despite Javari’s objections. “We are all citizens of Elvenhold, even though the king who made us so has been dead for thousands of years.”
Phillip’s breath catches in his throat. Justine, too, and all our friends. Dead for tens of thousands of years. He brightens with the memory of the eternal promises they made, to seek one another in future lifetimes. We are destined to be joined once again, and won’t they be surprised to find we got here first!
The harbormaster is surprised by the elven flag and more surprised when a sembler attests to the truth of Phillip’s declaration of citizenship. The Xander is allowed to dock, and her passengers to disembark. “We are allied with Elvenhold,” the harbormaster says. “By that treaty, be welcome.”
Javari and Maranon see to the security of the boat, then they all walk a bit on the quay to get back their land-legs.
“How will we find the books?” Argon asks.
“We will walk in that direction,” Phillip says, and points inland. “They call to me, still, and even more strongly than before.”
The door to the College of Magic opens to a narrow hallway. A few feet from the door, a small table constricts the hallway. Behind the desk sits a boy with blonde hair. He wears a blue tunic belted at his waist, and sandals. He smiles. “Welcome to the College of Magic. My name is Petrus. What do you seek?”
“My name is Phillip. You have some books that belong to me.”
The fire burned out during Phillip’s story. Marty puts new logs on the firedogs, and Chandler gestures them alight. The buildings of the college are sturdy, but a storm from the sea forces cold through chinks in rock and wood.
“There is no doubt that these books are yours,” Marty gestures to the six books that lie on the table. “There is no doubt that you are from Earth, but not our Earth.”
“It would be fascinating,” Chandler says, “to catalogue the differences between our worlds, and to find out when they diverged.”
“Is that your belief?” Phillip asks.
“It is,” Chandler says. “We have read stories of people from Earth who visited World or who came here to stay. There are hints, seldom clear, that suggest there are many Earths, but there is never any indication that there is more than one World – this one.”
“You traveled in time at least twice, I think,” Marty says. “With one exception, all the stories of Earth begin in the late 20th or early 21st century by their reckoning. Phillip and Argon traveled back in our time. Yes, back, given what we know of Elven history when they first got here. Then, they traveled forward in time to get here, to Argon’s time.”
“But we lived in Argon’s home for more than sixty years before coming here,” Phillip protests.
“Either time flows at different rates, or Argon traveled forward in time when he came to your Earth,” Alexis says. “Since we know the gates move in time, I’ll take that as the simpler explanation; time flowing at different rates isn’t required to explain Argon’s movements.”
Chandler nods. “The simpler explanation, although I’ll bet even Albert Einstein wouldn’t have thought of time travel as simple.”
“Who?” Phillip asks.
“Well, that’s one difference,” Marty says.
“Where is all this leading?” Chandler asks.
“To one conclusion: we’re supposed to be here, at this time. Something is going to happen, and we’re going to be part of it,” Alexis says. “All of us, in fact.”
“What about the boys from Wyoming?” Phillip asks. “Paul and Larry.”
“My guess? They’re going to be part of it, too,” Chandler says.
“So, do we have to go find them? Open a gate like Phillip did – or Arthur, although he denied that he did it?” Rudy asks. He has been quiet until now, absorbing what is said, trying to reconcile it with his memories and his stories.
Are we all catspaws? Alexis wonders. Is there something other than a powerful elven mage guiding us?
“No!” Alexis says. “Not supposed to be. That presumes too much. It presumes someone with incredible power is guiding us; it presumes someone has set into motion millennia ago an incredibly complex clockwork of cause and effect. It presumes that we are catspaws without free will. I can argue logically against all but the last point. That point, I refuse to accept just because I don’t want it to be!”
This book wraps up many of the stories of World, though we hope it is not the last from the fertile mind of David. Let David know you are reading: David dot McLeod at CastleRoland dot net. He deserves your feedback.
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