Seeing Light (The Seraphina Parrish Trilogy) (12 page)

“Okay, kiddies, let’s line up, please.” Gabe flutters from team to team, clapping his hands and directing us to the proper positions.

“That’s my cue to leave. Off to the meditation rooms,” Sam says with a wave and gracefully walks away.

Bishop nears me as we line up two by two with the other students. Every time we’re near each other, I can’t help but feel the tension surrounding us. We’re still strongly connected but fighting our feelings. He catches my hand and wraps it around his arm.

“Maybe you should tuck your Animate in your pocket while we’re out in the real world?” His tips his head toward the scorpion.

“Almost forgot.” I grab the arachnid from my shoulder and shove him into my crocheted wristlet purse, then clear my throat. “And thanks for the present, I never properly thanked you. It was a thoughtful gift.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles with his eyes. And though I understand that this doesn’t make everything okay between us, it helps to know we’re working things out the best we can.

Ms. Midgenet interrupts. She’s at the front of the line, barking out instructions like a drill sergeant to teams before they Wander.

We step to the front.

“Do you have your relic in hand?” she asks.

I hold up the flyer.

“Your key word is ‘World’s Columbian Exposition, Chicago 1893.’ Gabe’s already there with the other students.” She recites the prescribed instructions, then hands us a map of the fair buildings and exhibits, an old map of Chicago, and a wad of time-appropriate currency. “We ask that if you see or hear anything strange, you immediately report it to Gabe.”

“Is there something we should know?” Bishop asks.

“We’re sending all the students out on Wandering trips today. Trying to keep everyone moving in time to keep you safe from the Underground attacks. Just watch your back.” This is the most comfort I can ever imagine receiving from her. She’s rough around the edges and anything but warm and fuzzy, which makes me worry.

“Break a leg!” She waves for us to run.

::21::
The World’s Columbian Exposition

Bishop and I take off running across the courtyard of Olde Town with our hands locked together. With the keyword in his mind and the relic in his hand, Bishop unlocks the gates of time.

The ground rumbles and the brick patio cracks beneath us, rolling high into the air. Like a wave, it reaches all the way to the ceiling, six stories up, and hovers for several moments as it builds energy. And finally, when it’s done teasing our safety, it crashes down and catapults us back into time.

We launch into the glittering wormhole, which radiates and bleeds leftover colors from the scene and warmth of Olde Town. Then new colors invade, mixing and meshing, fading us into our new reality—a brilliant white, the World’s Columbian Exposition, Chicago, in 1893.

The time warp spits us out, depositing us behind a building near Lake Michigan. As I regain my bearings, I immediately notice the lack of high-rises. This reality is very far removed from the Chicago where I live in my true time.

Students gather, waiting for everyone to arrive, and Gabe urges Bishop and me to step aside. We comply, shuffling over to Macey and Xavier, who are joined with entwined arms.

“I looked for you guys after class yesterday. Wanted to warn you about Professor Raunnebaum’s pop quiz on paradoxes,” Macey says.

“Yeah, I decided to go back to my room and lie down,” I fib.

“Did you hear about the breakin at Gabe’s penthouse?” She leans down to feed me the newest gossip.

“What happened?” I feign interest to hide my guilt.

“Who knows, but I’d break in there just to look at his closet,” Macey says with a giggle. “Can you even imagine the awesomeness of the shoes alone?”

“I think I can.” I laugh and Bishop nudges my arm.

After the final Wandering team pops through the wormhole, Gabe positions himself in front of the group, calling for everyone’s attention.

“Today, I’d like very much if everyone sticks together. With the recent attacks by the Underground, I’ll be keeping you safe and giving the guided tour of the buildings and their exhibits. This is my ruffled pink umbrella, and though it will block my flawless skin from the sun”—he pops open its canopy and holds it high above his head—“it will also act as a beacon, and I want you to follow it at all times.
Capische?
”

He calls out “Follow me, my lovelies!” almost like a battle cry, then prances to the front of the group, twirling and pumping the umbrella in the air, looking more like a majorette in a parade than a tour guide.

We march dutifully behind, following him to the front of the building and into a swarm of tourists lingering before the facade of a stark white building.

“Holy wow!” My mouth drops open.

I glance around, instantly visually overloaded by the scene because this is, without a doubt, the most gorgeous city I’ve ever seen. Thousands of spectators stroll along great promenades lined with neoclassical-style buildings facing elongated lagoons, but it’s the details here that are special, and those details come in the form of statues. Stone-like figures dot the top of buildings like birthday candles, or stand guard regally at canal edges and basins. Angels, sea warriors riding water-horses, and human mythological creatures and gods such as Poseidon rest at the bases of exquisite fountains that feature water spouts as high as geysers.

“Too bad this doesn’t still exist in our time. I bet most people don’t even realize that this was ever here.” I turn in a circle, taking everything in with amazement.

“I certainly agree. Quite spectacular,” Bishop says. “Look, Sera.” He points to a nearby basin. “Gondolas.”

Several elongated boats glide past and I blush, thinking back to our first “almost kiss” in Venice, Italy, during a school Wandering trip last semester. “Those were the days when I thought anything was possible. When I was excited to be part of the Society.”

“You and me both.”

For several hours, Gabe leads us through buildings with endless exhibits: the Liberal, Music Hall, Agriculture, Manufacturers’, Horticulture, Women’s, and Choral buildings, and too many small structures to count. Though the six hundred acres are beautiful, I desperately want to leave to deal with the issues at hand. I won’t solve my problems here. Frowning, I look at Bishop and groan.

He leans in and whispers in my ear. “I know what you’re thinking, but we must lie low. Remember?”

“Easier said than done.”

“For you, yes, it’s certainly a challenge.”

I’m about to smack him on the arm for the remark but then I stop in my tracks. “Oh. My. Gosh. I can’t believe it.”

“What?” He glances around.

I point across the sunny promenade. There, running and weaving in between tourists is a petite girl with dark hair and an eggplant-colored day dress—she’s me—another version of me, a future me. “What in the world is she doing?”

“I haven’t a clue.” He scans the area, then points. “Look!”

My gaze follows the direction of his finger. Not too far behind, several people chase her.

Without thinking, I take off running in their direction, leaving our class behind.

“Sera, wait!” Bishop follows, but I keep moving until I catch up with them and hide behind a statue. From a distance, I can see her stop and face the gang. They’re part of the Underground; I recognize them from last semester. Closest to her at the front stands Drake, the boy with wild hair and dark eyes. Once upon a time, they wanted to kill me, and I still don’t understand why.

Future Sera grows agitated and yells at them, waving the crown of Unika.

“She has the crown!” I yank at Bishop’s arm excitedly.

“You’re right!”

It gleams in the sun and tourists stop and stare at the scene she’s causing.

“Can you make out what she’s saying?”

I step forward, wanting to know; just a few feet closer is all it takes to hear everything.

“You’re lying!” Future Sera yells to Drake and takes a step away.

“I’m not. In fact, if you come with me, I’d be happy to supply more information,” Drake says, attempting to bargain with outstretched arms.

She glances my direction for a fraction of a second, and I can see her eyes glass over. Whatever Drake’s trying to convince her of has made her upset. But with each step I take forward, she steps away, and before long, she’s off and running again. The gang follows her as well but they’re no match for her speed, and before long, she’s disappeared to Wander through time.

Drake and his gang catapult into their own sparkling window of time, exiting the scene.

“What was that about?” I turn to Bishop, hardly able to believe that I’ve run into myself here and with the crown. What are the chances?

“Not sure, but at least we know that you secure the relic in the future.”

“Yes, but now I have to worry about when that’s going to happen.” I gesture to the lingering spiral of Wander dust, where they just stood. “It won’t be today. She had on different clothes. I’ve never even seen that dress.” I cross my arms with unease.

“Yes, I suppose it will be on another trip then. But still, I think it’s a positive sign.”

“I guess.” Realizing there’s nothing I can do about it now, I relax, allowing my arms to fall to my sides.

Bishop looks around until his gaze lands on our school group and he grabs my hand to pull me toward them. “We better hurry back. Gabe may freak if he finds us missing.” That’s my Bishop; always too worried about breaking the rules.

“Wait.” I grab his sleeve, pulling him behind a crowd.

“What now?” Bishop scans the crowd but his tone changes when I point out who I’ve seen.

“There.” I gesture to a familiar man walking across the plaza—one that I imagine he’s as shocked to see as I am.

::22::
The Grand Master

“Well, this trip just keeps getting more curious.” Bishop lifts his hat and fans his face with the brim as we watch Grand Master Levi step inside the massive Machinery Building.

“Let’s follow him.” I tug at his arm but Bishop stands his ground.

“I don’t know, Sera, he’s already set his sights on you. And spying on him doesn’t exactly fall under ‘lying low.’”

“And what does Sam say?” I raise my brow.

Bishop’s face crinkles; he’s mentally conversing with her as team rules dictate. She’s been following our trip through her Seeing meditation. He chuckles and responds to me, “She says, and I quote, ‘Follow that turdwaffle.’”

I laugh too. That is the dirtiest word she’s ever said.

“He’s the enemy. Consider this reconnaissance,” I offer to make him feel better.

Bishop relents with a grunt, and we dash across the walkway and into the opening beneath towering archways. Inside the building, the ceilings soar several stories high, lined by a tunnel of steel structural frames. Immediately my gaze drifts to an exhibit of a stone obelisk farther away that nearly touches the roof over the clerestory.

Not surprisingly, the Grand Master heads in that direction, so we follow closely. He finally steps into an exhibit booth next to the obelisk and slips behind a velvet curtain, letting it drape closed.

We shuffle inside the booth too—after all, no one is there to stop us—and I pull back the curtain to peek in.

“Contraptions. Several of them,” I whisper to Bishop who is keeping watch. “All like the ones we use at school, the relicutionist, the contrapulator, and some others I don’t recognize.”

Bishop’s curiosity must get the better of him and he looks behind the curtain too. “Yes, you’re right, though they look like older models than what we use in our true time.”

Grand Master Levi reappears behind a machine carrying a box of tools, and disappears through a back exit. At the same exact moment, a strong hand from behind me pinches
my shoulder, and I yelp and turn. Bishop does the same.

“Sera?” The man’s hand falls away. “And Bishop!” He looks us over, but I don’t recognize him. “My goodness, I haven’t seen you two in ages.” He pauses, scanning us again. “But apparently not for you; you appear to be nearly the same age as when we originally met.”

I try to place him in my mind. His eyes do look familiar with that soft tinge of violet. Who have I met in the past on my time travels that would fit into this puzzle?

My brain produces only one name. “Elijah?” Elijah Vanderpool, the founding father of the Academy, an important figure in our Wandering histories. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it’s you. The last time we met, you were just a boy.” And at the time, he’d told me that I was “like him,” and now I understand what he meant. He’s a Watcher too.

“Nice to see you again, sir.” Bishop steps forward to shake his hand.

“You, as well! Yes, I remember it well, the London Exposition of 1862.” He chuckles. “Very fond memories of that family trip. Father and I made real strides in our inventions after that.” He opens the curtain to the back room and ushers us through.

I quickly glance around, searching for Grand Master Levi. Only the Masters know what he’d do to me if he found me here, following him. Luckily, the room appears empty and when I look to Bishop, he seems as nervous.

“I should’ve known you’d be here, exhibiting your inventions,” Bishop says. “Showing anything new for the exposition?”

Elijah turns and gestures over his shoulder. “An improved version of the unfragmentation machine.” He steps to its side. “This version fixes fragmented Wanderers, rather than fixing fragmented relics.”

Fragmented relics are broken or with missing pieces. Using them to Wander through time can be dangerous because the life path may send you to random places in history, leaving the Wandering trip uncontrollable.

“Really?” Bishop steps forward with interest.

“Yes, in fact, we’ve had episodes of self-fragmentation among several members who’ve Wandered too far back in time or Wandered with a broken relic. In several curious cases, those subjects lost their mind, their memories, their humanity, and in some unique situations, they themselves split apart into several people.”

“Intriguing. So you place the fragmented individual in the machine, and when you turn it on, they meld back together?” Bishop asks and places a hand upon the contraption’s wheel.

“Exactly. It’s still in the testing phase, but early experiments prove positive.” Elijah puffs out his chest and pats the contraption with pride.

The machine is similar to the previous version, but large enough to fit a Wanderer within its glass box, which sits on two sets of wagon wheels. Control panels line its sides, with a tangled mess of various cranks, pipes, and levers jutting out haphazardly.

In the beginning, when I first learned what I was, Mona warned me it was dangerous to Wander without knowing the rules. Perhaps this is what she meant. How awful would it be to lose your mind, or even split apart? This concept adds a whole new dimension to the term “split personality.”

I walk around the machine, inspecting it, and I think back to yesterday when I was in Nocturna. Stu mentioned that the Time Reapers had been split apart. When he tried to explain, I had blown him off, but perhaps this is what happened to them, their bodies were fragmented along with their minds and their humanity.

As I make my way back to Bishop and Elijah, a man slips into the hidden room with us. It takes only a millisecond to register the image of Grand Master Levi, and I turn cold as the blood drains from my face.