Discovery at Nerwolix (17 page)

“If it’s not a problem,” Tucker calls
back.

“Shit,” Reid drops his head in a pant. With
a gulp, he runs his tongue over his lip and looks at me. “We’ll
pick this up later, okay?” he kisses me once more. Forcing himself
back, he climbs off the bed and with a final glance over my flushed
skin, he smirks. “I’ll be thinking about it. Especially my spot,”
he winks and heads past the curtain to Tucker. “Hey, let’s get
the…”

Leaning back on the bed, I let out a deep
exhale. Maybe this is good. I did need to relax… and possibly take
a nap. After everything today, it wouldn’t hurt to just close my
eyes for a while. Listening to my own advice, I end up sinking into
darkness as my eyelids grow heavy.

***

She stares at me with wide, silver eyes.
White hair billows around her face, occupying everything else. But
I can’t even see it. It’s only her. It’s only those silver eyes,
piercing through me, calling to me with their own majestic
power.

“
It is time...” her mouth sits in a hard
line but her voice echoes, ringing like chimes. “It is time. You
must come find me.”

“
Where?” I hear myself ask.

“
They will lead you.”

“
Who?”

“
You must come find me. Follow them, and
they will lead you.”

“
Who?”

“
You already know.”

My eyes open.

It’s dark—much darker than earlier. How many
hours was I asleep? Rubbing my eyes, I sit up and glance down to my
knees and shins. The scrapes are nearly healed. My stomach rumbles
slightly and I place my hand over it. I should probably eat.
Standing, I head for the curtain but pause, glancing back to the
bed. There was something I needed to do—something important to
remember.

But what?

I was only sleeping… maybe it had to do with
Reid?

Deciding I’d go find him after I get some
food in me, I head past the red curtain and come to a complete
halt.

A pair of white wings float a foot from my
face.

We stare at each other for a second before
it flutters back, another set of wings joining it. They circle one
another, keeping mere feet from me as a third adds to the mix.
Suddenly, I’m hit like a windstorm, the dream playing out again.
This—this is what she meant.

We are Lynzees
, a soft voice echoes
musically in my head,
messengers of the Lost Princesses.

You must come with us
, another sings,
you are expected
.

By who?
I ask internally.

The one who calls for you
, the third
answers.
The one who has
been
calling for you.

I glance around the city. The bridges are
lit up with jars of the oversized fireflies, some glowing through
the cracks in the swollen Eckle trunks, illuminating the homes
around Zinnollo. Everything is still. Quiet. The others are
probably in their own homes or grouped together in Sampson’s. I
think about telling someone about the Lynzees… about what I’m about
to do so they don’t worry.

You must come with us, Fallon
, the
first one sings.
She awaits
.

Where will you take me?
I ask.

To learn the truth
, the first voice
musically rings, drifting further back.

What truth?

The only truth there is,
another
sings,
the only truth there ever was
.

I want to ask what that means, but I
stop—they’ll lead me somewhere to have that very question answered.
But what kind of truth? And about what? I should tell someone that
I’m leaving. Just so they know. Just so they don’t worry.

You must follow now
,
Fallon
,
one of the Lynzees drifts further back,
it is time.

I’ll come right back, right after all this,
I rationalize. With a deep breath, I exhale.
Okay.

The Lynzees withdraw further, the three
softly floating down the bridge and toward the closest post. I
follow, and once on the ground, they lead out into the darkness for
the Hylas Mountains where we were earlier. That’s where I saw them
before! It wasn’t my imagination. There was so much going on then,
with the sparring Ludins and my knees and stomach screaming, I
wasn’t sure if what I was seeing was real. But now I know it was. I
should’ve known. They wanted me to follow then.

Keeping up, I trudge further into the
darkness, pass the low-hanging Yulus and around the heavy Eckles
trunks, their six glowing wings the only guiding light in this
blackness. I’m not sure how long I’ve been following them. I’m
keeping to a steady and swift walk, but it’s night and I don’t want
to crash into anything. Holding my arms around myself, I
continually glance behind me. Has anyone noticed I’m gone? Will I
be back in time before they worry?

I push forward.
Is it much
further?

It is not as far as it was.

You will understand soon,
another
sings.
She has been waiting for you, waiting for you to learn
the truth.

What is this truth?
I ask again.

It is not as far as it was,
the third
repeats
, we will be with Her soon.

I walk for another fifteen minutes or so,
carefully treading through the dark trees as their white wings
guide me. I’m not sure how far north I’ve wandered when they
finally stop advancing. They swirl in and out of each other, inches
from my nose.

We are here.

Five ancient Eckles open to a small clearing
of grass between them. But these are different Eckles—trees from
another time. Another reason. They sit in perfect unison, forming a
precise hexagon with equal distance between their warped, knotted
trunks. Their branches reach out to one another, as if hugging an
old friend, keeping this secret place private and shielding it from
the outside world. Yulus drip in full, rounded blossoms, glowing a
slightly sharper green, illuminating the grass which shimmers
beneath my feet. Interlocked in the lime leaves are glistening
strands of billowing silver, like sparkling Christmas lights all
around me. I don’t need my Callix. There’s enough light here to see
everything and I know—I
know
this place is different.
Ancient.

Holy.

“What is this place?”

“The Origin of the Gifts,” a silky voice
responds behind me.

I spin as the tail end of a white dress
disappears behind one of the five Eckles.

“H-hello?” I step closer but pause, glancing
around. Silence answers me and I try again. “The Origin?”

“Where the Gifts were first given,” her
voice travels from another direction. I spin toward it, finding a
mere glimpse of her sparkling gown. But it disappears again, gone
behind another trunk. I walk for it but her voice calls from behind
me. “It is the oldest place of the Three Worlds. All kinds were
created here.”

“Who created them?”

“I did, just as I have created
everything.”

“My home?” I try following the direction of
her voice, but it keeps moving. “Earth?”

“Everything,” she’s behind me, “just as
there are different countries,” she’s up to the right, “there are
different planets and galaxies,” over to the left, “so there are
different Worlds. But it is all the same. Some much older than
others… but there is no
real
difference, other than the
separations you give it.”

“Are you real?”

“Yes.”

“Are you God?” I inhale.

“There are several names…”

“Why am I here?”

“You do not know?” her voice sails from
behind me again and I’m tempted to turn. But she’ll be gone, so I
keep my feet planted in place. “You have questioned this several
times.”

“I can’t go back,” I give in, spinning to
find her passing behind a tree. Long white hair cascades down her
back but she disappears again before I get a good look.

“Back?” her voice comes from the far
right.

“To Earth,” I say, turning again. “To my old
life.”

“Why go back when you can go forward?”

She keeps moving, appearing and just as
fast, disappearing, all over the surrounding trees. I turn, looking
for her again, hoping she’ll finally stop, finally reveal herself
to me. “Are you the one from my dreams?”

“I speak in several ways,” she’s on my left,
“when there is something that must be heard.”

“They—the Lynzees—told me it was the truth.
That I would find out the truth?”

“The Lynzees do not lie.”

“What is it?” I spin again, searching for
her. “What’s the truth?”

“You,” she’s behind me. “It is you.”

“What?” I spin again, my heart stilling as I
see her.

It’s the same silver eyes from my dream.
They sit like diamonds in her aged face, tiny wrinkles pulling at
their corners and around the edges of her mouth. White hair
cascades over bare shoulders, curling down her bodice which
shimmers like wet webs of lace. Her entire gown is made of
delicate, gossamer strands that glisten with beads of fresh rain,
from the slant of her arms to the slender curve of her wrist and
down to the ground where it billows, turning the dark dirt into a
glowing silver. Ethereal. Breathtaking.

She steps forward and I inhale.

“Do not be afraid, Fallon,” she moves
closer. “It is time you returned.”

“Returned?”

“Your time on Earth is concluded. You belong
here, with the remainder of your family, with those who share your
ancient blood.”

“My—what?”

She steps closer, her silver eyes sparkling
into mine. “Ruth Gillian was not the last who shared this
connection. Nor are you. There is another, here on Nerwolix. He
will reveal the truth if you simply ask for it…” she slowly fades
until she vanishes completely.

“Simply ask for what? What do you mean?” I
spin, looking for her. “I don’t understand!”

“There is much you must learn…” her voice
echoes, dying into a whisper, “much you must do…”

“What do you mean?” I spin again. “Wait!
Come back!”

But there’s nothing. Only silence.

I jet forward, dodging behind each tree,
checking every one. Where did she go? She just disappeared,
evaporating right in front of me. What did she mean ancient blood?
And ask who what? I keep going, keep searching, my heart racing as
I deck in and out of the five Eckles. She’s got to be here, behind
one of these trees. Have I checked them all? I jet from one trunk
to the next, hoping I’ll find her. Hoping for some glimpse of
her.

But she’s gone.

And I’m alone.

Except for the Lynzees. Three pairs of wings
float inches from my face, circling around each other, and me. I
have no idea where I am—no idea how to get back to the treetop
canopy of Zinnollo. But I’m not sure I want to go. Not yet. I want
to stay and talk. I want to ask more questions. I’m not ready to
leave.

We will take you back
, one sings
inside my head,
the others are worried about you.

Will She come back?

Not tonight
, another’s voice
musically echoes.

Will She come back at all?

If there is something you need to
know,
the first withdraws.
Come, we will return you to
Zinnollo.

With their glow and the pinkish light from
my Callix, I scan the area again, hoping for one last glimpse. But
She’s not here. I’m alone near the Hylas Mountains and it’s time to
go.

The Lynzees sail through the dark night air,
guiding me back toward Zinnollo. It takes the same thirty minutes
to return, but the entire time I replay what happened. I replay
what She looked like, what She said and how part of me knows that
it’s the truth. There’s something inside me, something unique that
I’ve been trying to understand this entire time. I’m different. She
says I have ancient blood. But how? And what does that mean? I play
our conversation over and over, trying to memorize it so I can tell
Sampson and the others. They’ll want to know the details. And I
plan on giving them as many as possible.

Once I reach the city, I jet up one of the
posts and head for Sampson’s home as fast as possible. He’s
probably wondering where I am. And Reid. I should’ve told him where
I was going before I left. But there was no time. They’ll
understand once I tell them. They’ll know I had no choice but to
follow.

Pulling back the red curtain, I pause.
Everyone is squeezed in the compact space, a tense air suffocating
the room. Most of the Rogues lean against the walls with anxious
frowns while Able, Pratt, Mae and Walker pace in the middle. Reid
is in the back with Sampson and the others, arguing.

“Fallon!” Pratt races up and throws her arms
around me. “You’ve got to stop doing this!”

“Fallon?” Reid calls, running over. Pratt
lets go just as he wraps his arms around my body, squeezing it
against his. He nearly crushes me, his arms steel bars around my
body, refusing to let go. Finally he pulls back, and just enough so
he can look between my eyes. “Where were you?”

“The Lynzees,” I look past him, between
Sampson and Blovid. “They came to me. Took me—”

“You saw them?” Blovid steps forward.

“They appeared. I had to follow them
to—”

“Okay,” Sampson cuts me off, scanning the
space. He moves forward and taking a deep breath, starts with his
usual authoritative tone. “Fallon has returned. There is no more
need for panic or to carry on with our current plans. Why don’t you
all return to your homes, gets some rest and we’ll reconvene
tomorrow for breakfast?”

“What happened?” Pratt asks. “Are you
okay?”

“Fine…” I glance toward the Fychu, aware he
doesn’t want me to discuss this in front of the others. “I just
need to talk to Sampson.”