Red Queen (18 page)

I had to get away. I couldn't face the truth about Lara. The agony was too great and besides, she wasn't real, I couldn't let her become real.

I rushed toward the door and threw it open.

A man stood in the hallway. A handsome man with my eyes. I hadn't seen him in years but he wasn't someone I was likely to forget.

“Daddy,” I cried as I collapsed in his arms.

WHEN I AWOKE, MY FATHER
was sitting beside me on the bed. I hadn't seen him in years but he didn't
feel
like some distant figure. This man seemed familiar, like we had talked yesterday, although I couldn't recall any recent memories of him. I knew then the bond between a father and daughter never really dies. It was wonderful to see him. I squeezed his hand when he touched mine.

“Dad,” I whispered.

“Jessica. It's me. I've been here all the time.”

He was talking about
here
, wherever here was.

I had forgotten what a powerful presence he had. He was six-three, taller than Russell and James, and had beautiful green eyes and dark maroon hair, which he wore past his collar. His features were closer to mine than my mother's. They were even sharper, somehow richer, perhaps as a result of time. He had
obviously seen a lot in life. His hands were large, even for his size, strong but also nimble. His gestures were so smooth. He looked like a doctor, a healer, and he looked like my dad. He
was
my father, I had to remind myself. I was still recovering from the shock of seeing him.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like an idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because of the way I behaved. Russell did an experiment with me and I panicked for no reason.”

My father shook his head. “You remembered something extremely painful. It's only natural you would try to run from it.”

“But what I remembered never happened. There's no reason it should upset me.”

My dad gestured to the closet mirror. “Maybe it did happen.”

“Are we talking about Alice and the Looking-glass here?”

He nodded seriously. “There's a reason Lewis Carroll wrote that novel.”

“There was a red queen in that book.”

“It wasn't a coincidence.”

“So you know why they're playing twenty-two downstairs?”

“It's because we're in witch world,” he said.

The name sounded too familiar to joke about.

“It's real?” I asked.

“As real as the real world. Maybe more so.” He stood. “Let's talk in the living room. We have the place to ourselves. Russell
went out to run an errand. But first you might want to wash up. I'm afraid you smashed your nose again.”

I grabbed his hand before he could leave. “What about Lara?”

“She's real as well.”

I wiped away a sudden tear. “My daughter. I have a daughter.”

“I know it must be hard to believe. But you are a mother.”

I felt a stab of pain again. “They took her, didn't they?”

My father hesitated. “Yes.”

“Is she safe? Will they hurt her?”

“She's fine. They're afraid to hurt her.”

“Can we get her back?”

“We're going to get her back.” He patted my shoulder. “Go ahead, wash up—we have much to discuss.”

Before rejoining my father in the main suite, I took a quick shower. Since I had left my hotel and been kidnapped by the taxi driver, my body and clothes had been put through the wringer. Besides washing off the sweat and dust, I had to scrub to get the dried blood off my face. My nose was bruised but it didn't feel broken.

My father was drinking coffee when I entered the living room wearing a hotel bathrobe. He quickly poured me a cup and I settled into a leather chair while he sat on the main sofa. His company made me feel safe for the first time in what seemed like ages.

He smiled. “I can't imagine what's running through your mind right now.”

“You mean you can't read it?” I asked, half teasing. But he replied seriously.

“Your mind would not be an easy one to pry open.”

“Why?”

“Because you're unique.”

The fact was easier, and at the same time harder, to take coming from my father. I knew it was for real. “Russell said there are ten unusual genes,” I said.

“Ten that we know of. Some of the genes overlap to create different abilities. For example, a person could have three extra genes and possess six unusual abilities. However, that would only happen long after a person had mastered their basic three gifts.”

“Of these ten genes, how many do you have?”

“Five. James has five too, which is rare. Russell has four. And you, my dear, have a whopping seven, which is even more rare.”

“Wow.”

“Wow is right. There are only a handful of people in the world who possess that many. Most are a member of what we call the Council. They're an ancient group. One of their members has eight witch genes.”

“Witch genes? Why do you call them that?”

“Because most of us discovered our powers long ago, when the world called anyone who was different a witch.” My father shrugged. “It's just a name. Saying someone has witch genes
is the same as saying someone has reached the next stage in human evolution. Their appearance is a natural event.”

“I assume you know what genes give what kind of powers,” I said.

“I do. But I'm not going to say what powers your seven genes represent.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“It's important the abilities appear spontaneously. That you don't force them to come.”

“I won't force them. I just want to know what they are.”

“Knowing will spoil your innocence. You have to trust me on this. I have a lot of experience in this area.”

“Can you tell me if there is a specific gene for longevity?”

“There's a gene for healing. Many witches are born with it. When you learn the ability to heal others, you'll also discover you can heal yourself, and continue to repair your body and prevent it from growing old.” He added, “I can tell you this much. You have that one.”

“So if someone slit my throat, I could fix it before I died?”

“No. You'd be dead before you could repair the damage. But you can heal almost anything in your body if you have the time.”

“So a bullet between the eyes would kill me?”

“It would kill any witch,” my father said.

“Thanks for the heads-up. Now I bet you know what I'm going to ask next.”

“How old am I? Are you ready for a shock?”

“This whole day has been nothing but one shock after another. So yes.”

“I was born not long before the Elizabethan era began, in the year 1528, in London, England.”

“Oh, Lord,” I gasped.

He chuckled. “I was lucky I possessed the healing gene. Even before I became connected, I was somewhat psychic. I accidentally exposed my gift and was tried and sentenced to death. But I was fortunate to be hanged instead of burned at the stake. It would have been difficult for a newborn witch to bring himself back after being turned to ashes.”

“Who tried you?” I asked.

“The local bishop. He later became a full-time inquisitor. He was a good friend until he discovered I was in league with Satan.”

The memory appeared to amuse my dad.

“Is that how you got . . . connected?” I asked. “The hanging?”

“Yes. You're beginning to grasp the mechanics.”

I shook my head vigorously. “I'm grasping very little. I just said that because we both went through a death experience, and then woke up here—wherever here is. I have to assume that dying somehow activates the witch genes.”

“Exactly. That's the key. You got it.”

“I've got nothing. What the hell is witch world? Where is it?”

He smiled faintly. “First off, it's not hell, although to my
primitive brain—five centuries ago—it seemed that way at first. At the very least, I felt like I kept living the same day twice over.”

“What do you mean?”

“Right now, in witch world, two or three hours ago, it just became early Monday morning. But when you wake up tomorrow, in what you call the real world, it will be Sunday morning.”

“How is that possible? Does one of the genes transport us back in time?”

“I wish. Then we could fix all the mistakes we've made in the past. Trust me, Jessica, the answer to your question is both more simple and more complex than anything you're going to have to absorb right now. Especially since I'm going to have to rely on words to explain the paradox.”

“Please, try. What is witch world?” I said.

“Witch world is a parallel dimension to what you call the real world. It exists at the same time as the real world, simultaneously. But because human beings cannot experience two time frames at the same time, those who have awakened to the existence of witch world discover they live one day here and then live the same day over again in the real world. Are you with me so far?”

“Are the days identical?”

“They used to be virtually identical. Almost everyone you know in the real world has a counterpart in witch world. They
live out their lives the same way people do in the real world. To them,
this
is the real world, the only world. Take James and Alexis, for example. They're your best friends here. They're also your best friends in the real world. But James and Alexis know as little about Jimmy and Alex as Jimmy and Alex know about James and Alexis.”

“You said
almost
everyone has a counterpart in both worlds. Why doesn't everyone?”

“Because it's possible their counterpart died in one of the worlds.”

I grimaced. “So then that person is only half alive?”

“No. They don't even need to know their counterpart has died.”

“Wait a second! How come Lara doesn't have a counterpart in the real world? I know she didn't die there. I mean, I never even had her.”

My father hesitated. “Huck is Lara's counterpart.”

“Huh?”

“In witch world, James had a daughter. In the real world, Jimmy had a son.”

“Why are you talking about Jimmy? What about me? I didn't have anyone in the real world.”

My father spoke gently. “I know, it's complicated. Frankly, it's something that's never happened before, not that we know of. I suggest you hold that question until you meet with the Council.”

“It's not an easy question to hold.”

“I'm sorry, I don't know what else to tell you.”

I tried to drop it but continued to fume inside. “All right. You said that James—Jimmy—has five witch genes. Wouldn't that many genes give him a sense of this world?”

“His genes are inactive. Look, you have seven and still you had almost no idea that this world existed.”

I pondered his words. “Déjà vu,” I muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“When Jimmy and I were up at the lake yesterday, we talked about how we kept having flashes of déjà vu. We even seemed to have two sets of memories that conflicted with each other.”

“That's a sign your genes were spontaneously becoming active. You started to get a glimpse of this world. But even though you have become connected to your latent abilities, your memory of the real world will continue to overshadow your memory of witch world for the time being.”

“Why?”

“Because it's impossible for a human being to suddenly absorb an entire lifetime of memories overnight. Everything that's happened to you in witch world—for example, the birth of your daughter—will return to you slowly, over the next few months.”

“Are you saying I have an entire lifetime of memories I know nothing about?” I asked.

“Yes and no. I warned you, at first the truth will appear contradictory. You know something about the Jessica of witch world. Her life has paralleled yours to a remarkable degree. But it's also been different in a few important details. Those details will return to you in time.”

“Why do the memories of the real world dominate at first?”

“They do for you because you went through the death experience in the real world. Had you done it in witch world, then those memories would have been the first to dominate. The point remains the same in both cases. It takes time to absorb our other set of memories. But just yesterday, in witch world, when I spoke to you, you knew all about this place and nothing about the real world.”

“How did the memories get wiped out?”

“Forgive me for repeating myself. They didn't get wiped out. They're still inside you, only your brain can't process them right now because it just got overlaid with a lifetime of memories from the real world.”

“This is confusing.”

“It takes some getting used to. Remember what happened to you when Russell had you focus on the mirror? You remembered your daughter, Lara.”

“I did but . . .” I felt embarrassed to continue.

“But the memory of Lara has already begun to fade.”

“Yes! It was so vivid for a few minutes. Her birth, holding
her, staring into her eyes. She has beautiful eyes, doesn't she?”

“Yes. Do you recall their color?”

“No! That's what I'm trying to say. The memory has begun to fade. It's weird—how can I forget my own daughter?”

“Because Jessie never gave birth to her. Jessica did.”

“But I am Jessica.”

“Yes.”

“But the way you spoke just now, you said it like we were two different people.”

“In a sense, until you get your witch-world memories back, you are two different people. Because you have different pasts. For that reason, I'm going to insist you avoid James for the next few days. You won't know him and he will think there's something wrong with you. But you don't have to worry about hurting his feelings. I saw him before coming here and explained that you were being connected and that the process was going to take a few days to complete.”