Authors: Michelle Warren
::30::
Deepest Desires
Sam deliberates for several moments before divulging the history of the two objects: the gold bracelet, and the small, flat piece, with the open center.
“You’re not going to like this,” Sam exhales, becoming morose.
“I know you can’t see that far back, but you must have seen something?” I press.
“Just tell us, Sam,” Bishop prods.
“What I saw was—
“Stuart Winston Murry, I know you’re in there!” Perpetua screams from outside Sam’s bedroom door. We all jump in our spots.
“What’s
she
doing here?” I can’t believe she has the nerve to traipse into our apartment, uninvited.
“Oh—it’s the other part of my punishment for my prank,” Stu explains. “I told you, you’d find out soon, if we didn’t hurry,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
“Perpetua is the other half of your punishment? I don’t understand?” I can’t risk her seeing me here.
“We’re supposed to be attached at the hip, never leave each others side, like glue, peas and carrots, P B and J, for the rest of the school year,” Stu rambles. “Thanks to Terease, of course.” His lips fall at the corners. “And Perpetua’s driving me insane!”
Bang, bang, bang.
“Stu, if you don’t let me in, I’m gonna tell Terease!” Perpetua’s voice grows louder.
“What are we going to do?” I ask and start scrambling to gather the relics. If necessary, I need to be ready to run again.
Before anyone can answer me, the door falls off its hinges, landing with a loud thud on the floor. Perpetua squats in the doorway with her hands elevated in a karate chop position.
She storms in. Her murderous eyes zero in on Stu. She skids to a halt when she sees me.
Her irritation turns sweet and sappy. She speaks in a soft and taunting, baby voice. “Oh, my—Seraphina, you’re in so much trouble. I hear Terease is looking for you. The question is...” she deliberates, “shall I run and tell her where you are?” She places a fingertip over her lips.
Bishop and Stu ambush her. Sam runs around the squabble and locks the front door of our apartment.
Less than a minute later, we’re sitting back on the floor around the relics. Perpetua is in a chair, with a mattress sheet tied around her body to restrain her and a dirty sock in her mouth to keep her quiet. The dirty sock was my idea. I personally took it off my sweaty foot and shoved in her pouty mouth—inside out, for an extra grody taste.
I’m thankful that Bishop took swift action, but I know I’d be ticked if my boyfriend had done the same to me. He, for some unknown reason, put me first, before Perpetua. For our team? Maybe. Even though I try not to, in my heart, I hope it’s for something more.
I analyze their body language, to see how they react around each other, but something is off, and I can’t quite put my finger on what exactly it is.
Perpetua squirms in her seat, giving me the evil eye. “What about Jessica, your Seer? Won’t she know Perpetua’s tied up here?” I turn and ask Stu.
He shrugs, unconcerned. “Jessica went home. She doesn’t get back until tomorrow. She might call, if she’s watching, but I doubt she will. Her grandfather just died, so I think she’ll be distracted.”
“Let’s get a hustle on, just in case,” Bishop nudges.
“What I started to tell you all before we were so rudely interrupted,” Sam stops and gives Perpetua a sneer, “is that I couldn’t see anything. Not anything that makes sense. None of the scenes were in order, and I saw myself with the bracelet in scenarios I’m positive have never happened.
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“They’re broken, fragmented,” she says
The Lady in Gold is right? I give Sam a look of confusion. My mind wanders back to the moment I first heard the term “fragmented.” I recite the explanation Mr. Matchimus gave us last week. “If you break them apart, they’d be broken, fragmented in time, creating travel roads that are warped and scrambled. We wouldn’t know where it would send you if you tried to use them. Very dangerous, indeed.”
“Yes, exactly,” Sam says. “But, that’s what I expected since Bishop mentioned that the bracelet didn’t work in the relicutionist. Especially since we know that it’s already sent you back in time at the moment you thought of your mom. The bracelet and your mom must have crossed paths somewhere.”
“Right,” I agree. “But now what?”
“That’s why we brought in Stu,” Bishop adds, but he seems a little uncertain.
“I’ve done quite a bit of reading on fragmented items and other special relics. I had lots of time on my hands waiting for Perpet-a-thing to finally get here,” Stu explains, shoving his head in Perpetua’s direction. “I sat at the Academy for a year, all alone—ya know? Who knew she would be so horrible when she got here!” He shoots her a hissy face. Perpetua jerks her chair angrily in his direction. He throws his hands in the air defensively and shrivels away as though she can still pound him while she’s tied up.
After a moment, Stu relaxes his guarded stance and pulls his notebook from his back pocket. The one I often see him scribbling in, the one Macey called “secret.”
“I have a sketch in here from an old book I found in the library, and I want to look at it again,” Stu says.
He flips to the correct page and shakes his head, nodding and saying, “Ah-huh, ah-huh. It’s exactly the way I remember.”
Then he slips the book into his back pocket and picks up each relic, inspecting them closer. He seems especially interested in the flat, weird piece. He holds it up to the light.
When he does, I see the piece in the new way, and something clicks. “Oh—wait!” I unlatch the necklace Mona gave me and remove it from my neck. Then I slide the medallion off the chain and into my hand. I hold the pendant up, right next to the bronze piece.
We all gasp at the same moment, realizing the two pieces are the same exact size and material. I lean into Stu to hold the two objects flat against each other. When they touch, they’re not only identical in size and shape, but they unexpectedly click together at a hinge point on the top. They became one piece, like a locket.
“Oh!” I grab it back, now as a unified piece. I open and close the locket in disbelief. The piece Mona gave me sits on the front—the obelisk, the sunrays radiating in the background, the rope braided, raised edge. When I opened it, the flat piece, related to CeCe, sits on the back. At closer glance, the piece has raised edges. Inscribed Roman numerals encircle the hole.
“It’s a watch without hands!” I speak without thinking.
Stu takes it back and inspects it. “Sort of. It’s a sundial, but not a normal one.”
“Uh, yeah, that’s what I meant.” Of course, I’ve seen enough of those to know what one is. I feel a little stupid when Bishop steals a glance at me.
Stu isn’t done fiddling with the items. He picks the bracelet up for a closer look. He takes the locket and places it face up over the square emerald on the bracelet. Again, unbelievably, it latches solid into place.
This time, Sam grabs it before I have a chance. She opens the locket, now attached to the bracelet, and looks inside. In the hole surrounded by Roman numerals sits the emerald. The three pieces have become one piece, all related.
My heart leaps when I realize that maybe what Francis Germ Bum said is true. The CeCe relic and Mom’s bracelet fit together. They belong together.
Are Mom and CeCe really the same person?
I replay again what Mona said on the phone with Terease, “It will be our best defense against CeCe.” She was speaking as though CeCe is alive. That’s confusing. If CeCe and Mom are one and the same, does that mean she’s still alive in true time?
I gasp, placing my hand over my mouth. My gaze falls far away, thinking about the possibilities. It opens up so many unsettling questions.
“What is it, Sera?” Bishop puts his hand on my arm. Perpetua grunts behind us.
“I’m not sure, but I
think
this might mean that my mom is still alive.”
They all look unsure until I explain my reasoning. I tell them
everything
from the beginning: my meeting with Frances Germ Bum, the phone call between Mona and Terease, and finding the CeCe relic in the Relic Archives. When I finish, they seem as puzzled as I am.
“Wow! I should meditate on this again. Maybe it’ll be clearer this time.” Sam lays the newly constructed sundial bracelet on the floor, but Stu interrupts before she begins.
“No need, pretty lady, it still won’t work,” Stu says.
Sam appears stunned into silence for a moment. Instead of arguing her point of view, she just sits there, turning bright red, probably because Stu just called her pretty.
“What do you mean?” I ask him. I’m getting impatient, especially with my new hypothesis.
“Okay, just bear with me. I’m going somewhere with this,” he insists. “Who reads Latin?” he asks, gesturing toward the bracelet.
I wait for someone to answer, but instead Sam hands the sundial bracelet to Bishop.
Bishop holds it up, rolling it around in his hands. “Where? Where’s the bit in Latin?”
“It’s right here.” I point to the front of the locket, Mona’s piece. “It says TEMPUS RERUM IMPERATOR. Just like on the front facade of the Academy building.”
Bishop translates, “times—rules—all.”
“Close enough. The exact translation is ‘time commands all things,’” Stu says as though the words mean something. We just look at him, waiting.
“So?” I press.
“So, Miss Sera, what you have here is the ultimate relic. In this case, time commands all desires, because this relic will take you or anyone else to their most desired location in time—but in your case, straight to your mom.”
::31::
A Compromise
Stu holds the bracelet between two fingers. It dangles toward the floor. Filtered light catches the bracelet’s diamond chips and casts shimmering rainbows on the far wall. He sits in silence as though he’s allowing what he just explained to sink in. “The ultimate relic,” he called it. A straight road to whatever the possessor desires most.
“Explain,” Bishop says, as though skeptical.
Stu pulls out his notebook and flips it open to a page where he’s drawn a loose sketch that looks exactly like the green gem.
“This,” he points to the gem in the sketch and then to the bracelet, “is an emerald from Unika’s crown, the first Wanderer of Egypt.”
We all sit, stunned into silence. Even Perpetua seems to perk up in her seat at the information.
I recall the story Mona told me about the Egyptian King and his quest for plentiful fields of grain. My memory lingers over the details of the matching oversized mural in the main atrium.
“Originally, Unika’s crown was symmetrical with two gold coiling scorpions, two seeing eyes, and in the middle, a winged scarab. A scarab that held this very gem.” Stu sketches the crown on an empty page. His lines are so fluid, they look as though he’s drawn them before, a thousand times. He holds the book back up for us to see.
“Impossible. It’s only folklore at best.” Bishop scrutinizes the sketch.
“No. Very possible,” Stu says. “After Unika’s death, his wife, the Queen, dismantled the crown into four pieces. The scorpions went to Bomani, their eldest son, the eyes went to his middle daughter, Saqqara, and the winged scarab was willed to go to the youngest child, still unborn at the time.”
“A Protector, Seer, and Wanderer,” Sam says.
“Yes, that’s what the story suggests. But the gem, the fourth piece,” Stu holds up his finger, pointing to each of us, “it was special. The Queen kept it for herself. She believed that the gift, from Amun-Ra to Unika, contained special powers. Powers only possible from contact with the gods. And she was right, it did.”
“The gem turned up again in the late 1400s, early 1500s, at which point, it must have been added to the sundial bracelet. Whoever made it knew its capabilities and documented them in the book that I found. Special relics like these have caused all kinds of wars.”
“Wars?” I gulp.
“Wars among Wanderers,” Bishop clarifies.
It’s something that hadn’t occurred to me. Wanderers have their own histories. Ones more in depth than the few murals and folklore I recently learned about. These are history lessons we wouldn’t learn in a Normal’s school.
That isn’t the most unfathomable part. The part that seems inconceivable is that all these items found their way through time, to me.
I look over at Sam. Her eyes sparkle for the relic. I can see she can’t wait to touch it again, to feel its energy.
“Why can’t I meditate on it? I want to learn more about it.” Sam reaches to grab it back, but Stu pulls it away.
“You can’t because it has no real life path. Whoever holds it creates the path to what they desire most. When you searched it, you saw yourself with it, didn’t you? What did you see?” Stu asks.
Sam squirms. “Um—that’s personal.” Her cheeks turn scarlet. Bishop instantly laughs. He’s read her thoughts, but even I can tell that she saw herself with Stu.
“It’s the same as Amun-Ra showing Unika what he wanted most, a fruitful harvest. And when Sera holds it, it will show her the way to her mom,” Stu continues, oblivious.
“It works the same as a relic? I mean, you just run with it and think of what you want most?” I question.
“Although, I’m not sure what will happen, it does the thinking for you. So, no keyword is needed for this relic, and you don’t have to run. Legend says you need to walk into a sun pillar’s shadow, just like Unika,” Stu explains.
“A sun pillar?” I’ve never heard the term.
“An obelisk,” Bishop clarifies.
My eyes grow wide, and I jump up from the floor, tripping over Perpetua’s restrained feet on the way to Sam’s window. When I reach it, I press my forehead against the cold glass and stare at the tall obelisk in the Academy courtyard.
“When I originally wandered with the bracelet, it was fragmented. It could have taken me anywhere?” I say and exhale. The glass fogs up in front of my face, blocking my view.
“Yes,” Stu answers. “But in your case, I think it was trying to point you in the right direction, a starting point in front of an obelisk. Because of the fragmentation, the trip could have been random. And it was, for the most part. Like I told you last week, it’s unheard of for someone as young as you to wander back twenty some years. You’re lucky you made it back alive!”
“Now what?” Sam joins me at the window.
“You and I need to get outside without Terease seeing you,” Bishop adds, pointing at me.
Perpetua jerks around in her chair to get our attention. Stu rips out her sock plug.
“I’m coming with you!” she yells.
“The hell you are!” I retort.
“If I’m getting in trouble for being a part of this, I want to see what that relic does for myself.”
We all look at each other, considering her words.
“Besides,” she adds, in her gooey, sweet, evil voice, “if you don’t take me, I’ll tell Jessica to call Terease, and she’ll come and take the bracelet, and then you’ll never find your mom.” She smirks. She knows she has me in a corner.
“And if I’m coming with you—” Stu starts.
“Whoa—wait, Stu,” Bishop holds up his palms, “You’ve already been in enough trouble this week. I think you should stay,” he says. “Sera and I can go. Sam will be watching.”
“Fine!” Stu yells. “I’ll just untie Perpetua now, and we’ll see what she does!”
Bishop stiffens. I gawk at Stu and Perpetua. Why is Stu turning into such a little rat now? It just doesn’t make sense.
“I’ll need my Protector when we go. Besides, if Sera’s mom is alive and happens to be this CeCe thing that Terease is so scared of,” Stu balks, “I’m gonna need her.”
My face turns pale and my body cold with chills. Mona’s conversation on the phone plays in my head. She said, “I think, eventually, it will be our best defense against CeCe.” The words hint that CeCe is something to be dealt with. Something or someone Terease is afraid of. That image horrifies me. Because until now, Terease is the thing
I’m
most scared of. I hope, for the first time, that Mom and CeCe are not the same person. I’d be happy enough to find her in the past, just like I originally hoped. It will be enough to see her again, to talk to her, no matter what part of history she exists.
“Fine!” I yell at Stu and Perpetua. “Just don’t blame me when Terease finds out you were involved!” I’m completely annoyed. Maybe Stu’s team loyalty is overriding his common sense. I realize I would do the same for Bishop. I exhale, letting my anger escape with my breath.
My brain switches tracks. I turn back toward the window. Ideas for sneaking into the courtyard, unseen, churn in my mind. After a moment, a solution presents itself.
I spin to face them. “I’ve got an idea.”
•
Getting into the courtyard turns out to be easy—too easy. In doing so, I’ve proved to myself that every problem doesn’t need to be solved like a time traveling freak. This time, doing something normal, something a mischievous,
Normal
student would do, grants me exactly what I want. In this case, a front row view of the obelisk in the courtyard of the Academy.
But I don’t stand here alone, every student in the east building mills around the Academy yard in the snow. Students from the sophomore class, still dressed in their eighteenth century costumes, give the pedestrians of Chicago a reason to stop and glare. Older students hang around in circles, gossiping about the cause of them being here.
All together, the group creates quite a scene. Every nose in the west building is pressed up against their classroom windows, looking out at the circus before them. If they didn’t wonder about the east boarding school before, they do now.
I laugh to myself. Terease, Mr. Evanston, Ms. Midgenet, and every other teacher at the Academy are distracted by my stroke of genius—pulling the fire alarm. The alarm served two carefully planned purposes. One: getting me to the courtyard. Two: saving the
old me
, the one hidden on top of a dusty shelf in the Relic Archives, from Terease.
Gabe flutters around the yard to each sophomore, asking them to make sure their costumes don’t get wet from the snow. He pushes them back onto the cleared walkways, horrified at the possibility of water damaged costumes. The chaos leaves him just as distracted as the faculty. And that’s exactly what I need.
Red and white lights flash repeatedly from several emergency vehicles. Terease stands across the yard arguing with the Fire Chief. How can she possibly let firefighters into the school when they have so much to hide?
My team and, unfortunately Stu, and Perpetua crowd around me. Their height hides me even though I don’t need to be hidden, because I’m now wearing a Venetian mask and cape I borrowed from Bishop.
Not far away, Macey stands awkwardly between Xavier and Quinn. Even from this distance, it’s obvious their love triangle still exists. Her eyes scan the crowd, most likely looking for me. When she spots Bishop, she struts over. Her Venetian hoop skirt and brown curls bounce with each stride. Xavier and Quinn follow like puppies.
“Heya,” she says in her cheery voice. “Have you seen Sera?” she asks Bishop.
“In a way—I guess,” he says. His eyes dart around, avoiding her. His demeanor turns uncomfortable.
He’s a terrible liar.
Macey towers so high over everyone else, she simply peers down and sees me.
“Hey, lady. Where have you been?” she asks. Her eyes roll around our group, assessing the situation. “You’re hiding—what’s going on?” Her Protector instincts kick in, and she inches closer to Xavier. Quinn takes notice of the change, probably reading her mind and begins scanning the crowd, looking for trouble.
I shrug in response. She looks around the entire courtyard again. Her focus circles back to me. “
You
did this, didn’t you?” she says then laughs out so loud, Terease turns to look at us.
I duck, grab Macey’s arm, and yank her into my protective circle. “Macey—shh! You’re gonna ruin everything!”
“You bad girl! What in the world are you up to?” Her big, wide eyes stare down at me, waiting for the gossip.
“Sera, if you intend to do this, let’s do this now,” Bishop pushes.
“Seraphina Parrish, what have you done?” Macey asks for the second time.
“I’m in a little bit of trouble.” I keep peeking around her toward Terease, who has zeroed in on our group. I can read her face. I’m familiar with that look. Terease’s ink eyes are searching the brains of my group, hoping to find me. I’ll be the one she can’t get a vibe on. Her body tenses when she locks eyes with me. I gasp and turn away. When I glance back, Terease excuses herself from the Fire Chief and struts in our direction.
Macey measures the fear in my eyes and doesn’t push any further. She just looks back at Terease’s face and understands. She turns without saying another word and races straight toward Terease to head her off.
“Now, Sera! Let’s do this now!” Stu yells at me. I open the face of the bracelet. Bishop, Stu, Perpetua, and I lock hands. Sam, Xavier and Quinn take two steps back.
Terease and Macey collide. Macey’s arms flail around. I lift my wrist to the light from the blustery, winter sun so it will catch the green emerald’s face. As I do, Terease reacts, but not with anger. “No!” she screams. Her hand reaches out as though she wants to grab and stop me.
A blast, golden and hot, shoots from the green gem and touches everything within sight. I shield my eyes and crouch away from the blinding light. Slowly, the light softens, and I peep back to see the result. Every person and every single thing has frozen, solid, except Bishop, Stu, Perpetua, and me. The world is silent, captured like a photograph. In absolute shock, I stand taller and look around.
A pigeon hangs mid air, a few feet above me. Its wings are spread wide, gliding toward the ground, perhaps to scoop up a scarce piece of winter food.
Bishop, Stu, Perpetua, and I all rotate in our spots to observe city life at a complete stand still. My attention falls to Sam. Her blue, lifeless eyes gaze off into space, and her mouth hangs open in the shape of an O. Her flat hair, previously flying in the freezing wind, now hangs in the air, weightless. Stu waves his free hand in front of her long lost eyes, but like a stone cold statue, she doesn’t react.
The hot blast melted all the snow. Now, only large pools of water cover the sidewalks as proof that it ever existed.
Above us, agitated clouds lash around, swirling restlessly. Their wicked teal green colors scare me. They move independently from the frozen city. The sun appears from behind the clouds and slides across the sky. It rounds the atmosphere as though time continues to move forward, but nothing else does.
The sun’s rays cast quick, angular shadows across the building, like video from a time-lapse camera. I notice the ground in front of us. The obelisk’s huge, shadowy-like watch hand creeps from the 12:30 position to approximately the 2:30 position.
Then it halts.
We all look at each other. This is it. In the front, I pull Bishop’s hand. The group, behind him, follows in a single file line, hands locked. We advance onto the shadow of the obelisk, just like Unika did thousands of years before us.