Pasquinelli/Rise 465

The return to the castle wasn’t quite as glorious as it might have been.

“Where’s our damn fanfare?” Ray said from inside a GravShuttle.

Indeed there was no parade, or throngs of people cheering them on. The cavalcade of Councilors, royalty and Force soldiers went generally unnoticed, seeing as how their GravShuttles went separately, and by side streets and back roads to avoid detection and attention. Jon, however, was certain people could tell who they were. A vined, flowery R was painted on the front of the shuttles, and they remained remarkably crisp and clean at all times.

Meanwhile, people were slowly moving their things back into their homes, or at least, some were. Jon couldn’t tell if those who were returning seemed happy or not to be moving back. One man and woman had downcast heads and eyes, and turned sharply when they heard the GravShuttles coming by. The woman did not look encouraged to see the Rosebridge crest on the shuttle -- in fact, she looked angered by the whole thing.

“I feel loved,” said Ray bitterly.

Jon slunk down into his seat even though he knew they couldn’t see inside because of the heavily tinted windows.

Rain was falling now, in droves. The cobbled streets were hazy with water splattering on them, and there were fewer people moving around outside as the GravShuttle made its way east to the castle. Ray sat next to Jon, along with a few Councilors Jon didn’t know. They didn’t look hurt or injured, so Jon figured they probably weren’t in the battle. Only Force soldiers were actually in the fight on the Strell Pavilion, as far as Jon could tell. The two Councilors were talking amongst themselves, keeping a purposeful verbal distance between themselves and Jon and Ray -- they did not want to be heard. Not that Jon really cared, either way. At this point, he didn’t even want to hear it anymore.

He wanted to go home, back to Oak Tree, but even there, he’d feel cut off from everything. For their safety, he couldn’t tell any of his friends or family any of it. Thankfully, he still had Ray, who’d be living in the same dormitory and they may even end up taking classes together. Class.... Now Jon remembered what the date was. Today was the last day before school started at Humboldt State University. School began tomorrow. Jon couldn’t think of anything that was further from his mind than going into class every day. His life had changed so much since he and Ray first saw that room no one else could see. Come to think of it, Ray had been the first to point it out to Jon.

Jon yearned for some normalcy, but the ironic part was that his routine in Norea had become normal to him. But class sounded so wonderfully structured and safe compared to his life in the last few weeks. Jon could barely just remember what it felt like to have a deadline for a project or an assignment. He never thought he’d say it, but homework actually looked appealing.

Ray groaned. “And it just had to be raining now, right,” she complained to no one in particular.

“We do need the rain,” one of the Councilors said haughtily. It was a testament of how exhausted Ray still was that she did not respond. Jon didn’t even look at the Councilor. He just watched the water randomly run down the glass, and his breath fog it up in a spot below the middle of the window.

“Classes are tomorrow,” Jon said to Ray.

“Damn, that’s right,” she said, shifting in her seat to turn to him.

“What are you taking this semester?”

“Um...” said Ray, pondering. “I actually didn’t register yet. I’m gonna wing it. How about you?”

“Bio, an English class, and Music Appreciation. Oh, and a Bio lab.” Even as he rattled off his list, the words sounded so foreign when the past few weeks, discussions circled around Amulets, phoenixes, Charges, and Siphons (which he still didn’t know what those were, and at the moment, he didn’t want to know).

“How many casualties?” said one of the Councilors loud enough that Jon could hear.

“We lost two hundred and fifty seven men and women. Green and White Forces took the heaviest losses,” said the second. “And another three hundred injured.”

“And prisoners?”

“Thirty one.”

“That’s all?!” said the first Councilor in a fierce whisper.

“They were better prepared than we thought. They had a Mirage transporting all of them out once the battle favored our side. We didn’t get many. And the Mirage was eventually shot and killed.”

“My...goodness,” said the first Councilor.

They had lost hundreds of soldiers. But at least they had captured prisoners. No wonder the Empress was so downcast. By the time the GravShuttle cleared the residential area and turned finally onto High Street, the rain was so steady and heavy that the castle looked like a huge dark grey blob painted on a light grey background. Ray was right about one thing -- the journey back was not going to be fun in this rain. The front gates slowly opened for the GravShuttle, and not even all the way at that. They cracked the doors open about halfway, and once they entered and veered left, the gates shut again.

The grounds were hardly as Jon always found them. None of the sprawling bright green lawns had any of their usual earthy springy qualities, but remained flat and soaked. The gazebos in the central courtyards in looked positively gloomy and out-of-place in the misty cold gray.

Attendants were waiting with umbrellas at the castle’s rear entrance. Ray and the Councilors waited for their attendants by the doorway -- Jon ducked and rain inside, his attendant was approaching with the others but began to run to catch up with Jon.

“Sir, you’ll get wet!”

“I know,” Jon said, not really loudly enough for the attendant to hear him.

The attendant caught up with him, looking highly affronted. “Sir, I only wish to keep you dry,” he said as if speaking to a child.

“I think I’ll decide for myself if I’d like to be sopping wet, thanks.”

“Very good, sir,” said the attendant, falling back to his blasé, quiet agreement that the castle servants usually took.

As soon as Jon got into the castle he went straight to his bedroom on the eleventh floor; he didn’t even look back or wait for Ray, who was undoubtedly still basking in her new royalty-like glory.

After climbing almost two hundred stairs, down a few hallways that must have equaled the length of a football field when put together, Jon got to his room, pulled off a hospital-issue sweatshirt, blew out the torch and slumped on his bed. His eyes were open only for a few seconds longer, and he stared at his heavily shadowed fireplace, wishing there was a crackling fire ablaze inside.

A person roused him from his half sleep state. A slender figure curled up next to him.

Jon recognized her unique scent immediately -- sweet jasmine always indicated that Ray was in the vicinity. He turned his head halfway toward her. “Sup?”

“Nothing. I’m just...cold.”

“I know, it’s freezing in here.”

“No, I just mean...it’s cold here, you know?”

Jon wasn’t quite sure what she meant, but she didn’t seem to expect a response. She put an arm around his waist and exhaled a deep breath. Jon left her arm there and began to drift off again.

For how many hours they slept, Jon didn’t know, but the sunlight was gone from the window -- not that it showed anything else but gray for the past several hours -- and a fire was going in the fireplace. Ray had turned over on her other side and her shiny black hair was splashed across the gray velvet comforter. Lights glowed in the city through the misty -- and still rainy -- sky. The lit fire in the fireplace cast a warming, orange glow on the room. Jon stayed exactly how he was laying in his warm spot on the bed -- Jotea had told him they were to leave the castle at midnight, rain or moonshine. Jon’s internal clock, which was now surprisingly precise, told him it was now eleven fifty seven and twenty three seconds. It wasn’t past midnight yet, otherwise Jotea would have been sure to fetch them.

Jon finally got himself up. Ray already had her bags packed, and they both sat near the doorway with the letters R. J. C. in thick gold letters on hers, and J.D.K. on his. When they arrived in their rooms a few hours ago, they both had found large, sturdy deep purple suitcases with golden clasps and the Rosebridge crest also embossed in gold on them. Jon smiled a little when he realized that this was almost like being a member of the family now -- or at least, a true Iannisene. It made him feel less like leaving.

Jon began to fold his clothes and things in the large suitcase. Jon knocked on one of the open lids and they seemed virtually indestructible.

He didn’t have all that much stuff with him in Norea, so his trunk wasn’t really all that full -- he’d only bought a few things when Jotea gave them both a few hundred marks to spend.

Strapping on his watch, he caught a glimpse of the time. Not that he needed it to tell the time... but it was five minutes past midnight. A bolt of lightning cracked in front of the window. It was so close and so loud that Ray jerked awake.

“Holy hell,” she grumbled, her voice more raspy than usual.

“Morning, glory,” said Jon from the bathroom, washing his face.

“She here yet?”

“Naw. I don’t think she’s gonna come up here herself. She’ll probably send someone.”

“Perfect, whatever.” Jon heard her, though she was muffled. She had flopped back on the pillow.

But she wasn’t to stay there for very long. Someone loudly rapped on the door.

Ray groaned as Jon opened the door. To his great surprise, Kavin Fauntyle stood before him, with an almost pleasant look on his face.

“Mr. Kenneth, Miss Cavitt.”

“Uh, minister,” Jon said rather stupidly.

“The time has come. We must be off to the Gate.”

Ray mumbled something into her pillow that sounded like an obscenity.

“I know it’s late, and I also know the battle just happened --”

“Yesterday,” Jon interrupted.

“--But you’re in grave danger while you’re here. You already know this. We must get you back to Earth. Now.”

“We know. Come on, little miss Ray of sunshine.”

Ray grunted again but didn’t move.

“I’ll have porters up in five minutes to collect your bags, and I’ll see you both in the Grand Foyer in ten minutes.

“Won’t that cause a bit of a stir?”

“Well, it is late,” Fauntyle said simply. He nodded and shut the door in front of him -- he didn’t actually come into the room during the entire conversation.

Jon sat down on the edge of the bed and gave Ray’s leg a little shake. “Come on.”

“I know, I know.” She sat up on the bed, her straight black hair spilled on one side of her face. Even though she was buried face-first in a heap of pillows, she still looked flawless. “What are we gonna do?”

“Go home,” said Jon.

“I know that. I mean, what’re we gonna do once we get back home? Pretend like nothing happened. Like this was just a vacation. Or even better, a dream.”

Jon didn’t know what to say. Part of him wished they could do just that, but a bigger part of him knew that was fruitless. He finally decided on something. “At this point, Ray, I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Ray kept her eyes on him, but didn’t press any further.

“Plus, I can’t exactly bring up that handy fire shield anymore. Without that, we would have both been dead by now.”

“Speak for yourself. I would have been fine. You weren’t there when I was kicking Onyx ass while you were flying around up there.”

Jon hadn’t recounted the battle between he and Ignus in detail to Ray. He figured Jotea could read his mind, so she probably already knew how close to death he came, more than once. Ray didn’t need to know. He might tell her one day soon, if the time was right.

“Exactly. So let’s go home.”

“Ugh. FINE.” She then added, “But I don’t think this is over yet.”

“Neither do I.” Jon had known that from the second his Phoenix Amulet threw him and Ignus apart.

In the Grand Foyer, Jotea stood with her hands folded, as usual on the ground floor. Jon could just make out her grey jumpsuit, stark against the unlit cavernous foyer. As he walked down the staircase, another powerful bolt of lightning flashed over the dim foyer, and for a moment Jotea was eerily and severely lit, but her face remained as placid as ever. She was in traveling clothes this time, with her long curly hair tied in a braid behind her. There was not a strand out of place.

With her were two guards -- Jon could tell by how they were dressed. The tall windows on the far end of the foyer showed only blackness, with tiny sparkling pinpricks of light where water was running off some surface, reflecting light.

“Jonathan, a moment, if I may,” said the Empress, and she went straight into a small room off the Foyer without waiting for Jon.

He rushed down the stairs and followed the Empress, trying to make his hasty, clumsy footsteps look natural.

Once inside the Hall, Jotea ushered him in and closed the door.

“I have something for you,” she said and indicated a closed box on the edge of the long table.

Jon picked it up and fingered the small, delicately carved wooden box, again with the Rosebridge crest on the outer cover. He opened it, and inside was a handsome gold pocket watch. The watch cover had an hourglass engraved on it, with the sands from the chambers spilling out and twirling around the hourglass in beautiful, circular patterns. “Wow, very nice. Thank you, Jotea.”

“Open it,” she said.

Jon depressed the crown, and on the watch’s face were three hands -- presumably, one for seconds, minutes, and hours -- and three blank slots. But the watch was set for twelve o’clock sharp, and none of the hands moved, and Jon for a fact knew it was twelve thirteen and fifty-two seconds in the morning. The face of the watch had a sapphire background, intricately cut.

“That is going to be your greatest tool in your forays into your Temporal Charge. This is the only one in existence, and has been in the castle vaults for many years. I would like you to have it.”

“Thank you...so much,” Jon said in awe. He didn’t know what else to say to her, so he settled on a question. “Is it...supposed to be on twelve o’clock all the time?”

“Yes. Turn the crown and release it.”

Jon twisted the crown half a turn until it wouldn’t turn anymore, then let go. The watch’s hands all moved to reflect the correct time, date, weekday and year. It stayed that way for five seconds, then went back to its twelve o’clock position.

“That will tell you the accurate time, day and year of wherever you are, on any planet. The watch face is the most important part. It will remain blue while Real Time passes, however when you alter the Timeline, the watch face will change from blue, to purple to red as your control over the Timeline diminishes, then the watch will begin to tick to show how much Still Time has passed. Once the Timeline goes back to being unaltered, the watch returns back to how it is at the present moment. The brighter the shade of red on the watch face, the less control you have over the Timeline.”

“Incredible,” Jon said, examining the watch. He was anxious to try it out someday when the time called for it. There was something else he needed to ask Jotea while he had her, alone. “And, what about us?”

“What about us?” Jotea said.

“What happened in this very Hall a few days ago? Remember?”

“I do recall. But nothing can be done about that now. I am waging a war. I cannot resort to romance at the moment.”

“But...”

“Yes, Jon, I know,” Jotea said emphatically. “I feel it too. But I cannot... not now. I have to think of my people, first. Such is the bane of my position.”

Jon cast his head down. “I understand.”

Jotea approached him, and brought his head up with her index finger. “We will meet again, Jonathan Kenneth.”

Jon managed a smile, and nodded at Jon. “Come.”

There was no need to walk through the rain this time. The GravShuttle was already right at the door -- something Jon had never seen. Obviously the Empress of Iannis did not walk in the rain.

Lightning and thunder cracked and boomed as the GravShuttle pulled out onto the main driveway. Guards stood at the gates, unmoving while they groaned open and water splashed all over them. Jon felt terribly bad for the guards. The skies were briefly illuminated a deathly gray for moments at a time by the lightning, then returned to midnight black.

Jon remained silent as Ray talked to him about Tobias and how annoyed she was that she had to leave him with no warning. Jon couldn’t really sympathize. Jotea was sitting right across from him, and she couldn’t so much as look at him. At least Darius still cared for Ray. Jon couldn’t figure out what would happen between he and the Empress.

The shuttle hummed along High Street, passing lights on the way, but no people. Jon huddled into himself. The cold was penetrating even the shuttle’s walls.

Once they came through the city gates, it became cold and darker. The only light came from the GravShuttle’s lights into the night. The ground ahead of them was uneven as the shuttle went closer to the forest.

“Now, Mr. Phip.”

Immediately after the Empress said that, the lights inside and out the GravShuttle went dark, and the only light now came from the windshield, which looked like it had been turned into an infrared sensor. They were clearly in stealth mode.

At long last, the GravShuttle came to a stop, and the screen in front showed trees directly in front of them -- many trees. They were at the edge of the Forest of the Golden Rays.

For the first time since they all climbed into the GravShuttle, the Empress spoke directly to Jon and Ray -- their trip had lasted about forty minutes at top speed. Jon couldn’t imagine what it would have been like trying to walk the whole twelve-mile journey from the castle to the Gate. Ray would have melted, then screamed.

“From here on, you are on your own.”

"What?” Ray boomed.

“On your own,” repeated the Empress. “You will be given flashlights and umbrellas, and I can point the way to go in your minds, but you must believe me when I tell you there are no other humans besides ourselves within several miles of here.”

She started as if she was going to give Ray a handshake, but stopped and instead pushed a button on the rear hatch, and it swung open. A blast of cold, wet air hit Jon in the face and he scrunched in on himself again. Even Ray seemed to recoil at the weather.

“Good luck, and safe journey. With any luck, I won’t be summoning you again, save to tell you that we have won.”

Jon’s eyes darted to the Empresses’ but hers remained on him for only a fraction of a second before averting her gaze to the front of the GravShuttle. This time, as Ray grabbed her flashlight and umbrella, the Empress did indeed shake hands with her. Their suitcases were standing up against the wall, and Ray grabbed hers under her arm and heaved off down the ramp, cursing as she went. She kept having to toss her hair back to keep it out of her face. Jon followed behind her, and chose not to acknowledge the Empress as he left. They had already said their goodbyes. He did, however, steal one last glance of her, and thought with every atom of his mind “it shouldn’t be like this.”

He hoisted his luggage off the floor, and dragged it out, and he too grabbed the flashlight and umbrella. The suitcases were lighter than he imagined they might be, but the cold rainy air was not exactly welcoming.

The Empress framed the hatch, and looked as if she might say something, but remained standing there. Jon took one last look at her and turned away, toward the forest. Ray was already doffing her umbrella and shining her flashlight. The light spilling from the inside of the GravShuttle (which wasn’t much at that) cut out, and it hummed steadily for a moment before it’s sound was eventually extinguished, and eventually the only sound that remained was the wind, rain and distant thunderclaps that seemed to be a few miles away, passing over the city.

“I’m already soaked!” said Ray.

“I know! Me too! Let’s just get to the Gate!” There was really no need to shout, the rain wasn’t particularly loud, but Jon just felt like it was appropriate to do so.

“How far was it?”

I don’t remember!” Jon shouted, giving his trunk a hefty yank, for one of the edges got stuck in the muddy grass. “Just keep going!”

Thunder boomed overhead again, and now Jon knew why Jotea or anyone else in their right mind went back to dry warmth... This was terrible. They were as wet as could be, cold, and they had to lug huge pieces of cargo toward a vague destination they weren’t even sure of... not to mention the fact that the GravShuttle probably couldn’t have fit through the trees.

But on they went. Ray even stopped complaining -- she was either too tired, or realized it wasn’t going to help. After all, they still had to get through the Humboldt Forest once on the other side.

Now Ray was yelling, with good reason. “I SEE A CLEARING!” Ray shouted over the renewed gale-force winds.

Jon looked up -- the trees were swaying ominously, and leaves were blowing through the sky like snowflakes. But directly ahead there seemed to be fewer trees encircling an area. Jon renewed his grip on the luggage and heaved it toward the clearing. Ray had been right; Jon stumbled through a very distinct ring of trees in to an area less densely packed. Subtle, but he recognized it. And in the very center of the partial clearing, -- a depression in the ground where no mossy grass grew.

Jon and Ray both approached it from either side. Jon closed his umbrella, which hadn’t done him much good at all so far, and Ray had already done the same.

They stood facing each other -- Ray’s hair blew all over her face, lank and wet with her cheeks shining. Jon was sure he looked no better than a drowned rat, but it didn’t matter anymore. He could have been standing naked in front of Ray and not cared. She was not going to leave him in this mess, and they both knew it.

“You ready?” he said.

“Yeah, do it.” She nodded at Jon.

He nodded back and reached down for the cold, wet handle of the octagonal door. But Jon barely touched it with his fingertips when it opened of its own accord. Jon let Ray go down first, and handed her their suitcases, one at a time. With some difficulty and some time (and a whole lot more wetness if it was even possible), they got both pieces of luggage down the ladder into the antechamber. As soon as Jon climbed down, the Chamber door shut itself, and the familiar torches lit themselves.

“Thank god,” said Ray in a normal volume voice, wringing her hair out.

“You said it.” Jon was thoroughly chilled to the bone now, and hoped his lips weren’t purple yet.

Ray cast her umbrella down on the floor, but Jon kept his handy as they slowly made their way down the curving stone staircase into the huge underground Chamber. Jon had no idea what the weather was going to be in Arcata, so he kept his umbrella at his side.

The Chamber looked exactly as it had when Jon and Ray first found it -- old and cult-like. The pedestal was set to a notch that had a pictogram of a gnarled tree on it. The airy, rippling liquid returned in the stone-encircled flat bottom, and Jon was extremely relieved to see it there. It was like boarding a plane destined to go home after a bad vacation. Ray hurled her luggage into the Gate and it clomped unsteadily, then vanished a few moments later. Jon did the same, and then it was just the two of them in the room with silence as their only other companion.

Jon held out his hand. “Like the first time?”

Ray nodded and grabbed it. “Like the first time.”

They stepped into the airy liquid and stood for a second. As the room vanished, Jon saw Ray look at him from the corner of her eye, but when the room became solid again, she had looked away. The rippling at the cuffs of Jon’s wet jeans stopped. Their luggages were lying next to them, and their backpacks from their alibis were also in the Chamber.

After carrying them over out of the basin, Ray unclasped hers and rummaged through for a second before pulling out her purse. She shut it and locked the suitcase again.

“Let’s just go. We can come back for this stuff tomorrow. I’m cold, wet, and damn tired.”

“Couldn’t have said it better. After you.”

Thankfully, when they reached the top of the ladder and the Chamber door swung open again, they could see stars above them and the air was cool, but not nearly as cold as it was in Iannis. The Chamber door shut itself once they were through, and even though there was no wind at all, pine needles tumbled their way onto the door and stopped there, concealing it once more. Within ten seconds, it was utterly covered and looked like any other part of the ground.

Jon’s hands and feet were icy from his wet clothes and their journey through the Forest of the Golden Rays.

“Can’t you turn into a giant hairdryer?” suggested Jon.

“Well, one of us used to be able to create fire out of nothing but....”

“Oh shut up.”

Jon was absolutely freezing, but eventually the trees thinned and Jon saw distinct lights through the barks -- Oak Tree Manor was dead ahead.

As Jon and Ray went through the gap in the stonewall, Jon stopped and looked up at the Glass Room they found weeks prior.

“What?” said Ray, looking annoyed. She was still cold too.

“Why can we still see it? Why is it still there?”

“I don’t think it’s that we can see it. I think it’s more that everyone else just can’t.”

“I wish I was one of them,” said Jon.

“No,” said Ray, as she shook her head. “I don’t think you do.

Jon sniffed and continued walking toward the house with her.

THE END