LEMNISCATE Page 13

  “Glad you could come. Your mom called to say you were on your way.”

  I stepped inside, once again taking in the sparkling opulence of his home.

  “I have a feeling I know where to find her,” he uttered, closing the heavy front door.

  “Um, if you don’t mind my asking . . . if you know where she is, then why do you need my help?”

  Without answering, he motioned for me to follow him down the hall, straight towards the one room I had no desire of ever stepping foot in again. A feeling of déjà vu swept over me. Once more I was reluctantly following someone in this house, and I wasn’t too happy about it.

  The study was in a state of disarray. I sucked my breath in and looked around, confused by the papers and books strewn about. Volumes of collectible journals and manuscripts bearing medical insignias were scattered. The desk, immaculately organized the last I had seen it, was now covered with papers and various files.

  Dr. Dean was disheveled as well. His shirttails were half tucked in, half pulled out of his trousers. His clothing was wrinkled and appeared slept in, matching the stubble growing on his face. He ran his hand wearily through his tousled hair, messing it up even further.

  “Are you alright?” I asked.

  “It’s been a long night.” His voice usually had a soft spoken tone but tonight it was rough and gravelly. Maybe he was catching whatever my mom seemed to have. He stood staring at the mess around us, shaking his head.

  “Who did this?”

  Dr. Dean tore his gaze from the chaos to meet my eyes. “Actually, I did.”

  There must have been a strange look on my face because he immediately answered, “I was looking for something. A map I believe Brynn took with her tonight before disappearing.”

  With a deep and weary sigh, he continued. “There’s a journal I keep. It’s very important to me. Beyond representing my devotion as a doctor, this journal is my life’s work, and it seems Brynn has made every effort to try and find it.”

  Did Brynn have the journal? My thoughts raced as I pictured her reading the secrets contained within its pages.

  “No need to be worried, Teagan. I’ve hidden the book well and am sure it’s quite safe. The map is an exact replica of one in my journal and is, unfortunately, no longer here.”

  “Was it . . . someplace special? The place the map leads to?” I felt uncomfortable asking, especially knowing the map had ties to the journal, but I quickly reminded myself that he was the one who asked for my help finding Brynn. It would seem running off to the cemetery or perhaps visiting a place that held special meaning to her, or reminded her of her mom, would have made more sense than following an old map.

  Dr. Dean sat down at his desk and fiddled with the marble paperweight, picking it up and setting it down on the jumble of papers there, over and over again.

  “There have been stories of sacred places handed down through the years, many of which I have recorded in my journal. I happen to be very fond of ancient spiritual lore. This map supposedly leads to such a place, one of great mystery and power. With her mother gone for a few years now, there’s no doubt Brynn is searching for something fulfilling.”

  The paperweight landed squarely with a final thud.

  “I’m sorry, but where exactly do you think we should start looking for her?” A nagging impatience hit me suddenly, making me anxious to head out, but still, his words echoed in my head. Sacred place. Ancient lore. All recorded in his journal. He knows, my subconscious warned. He knows about guardians.

  All too quickly, the room felt excruciatingly warm. The fireplace had felt nice when I first came in from the chilly night but now seemed to exaggerate the uncomfortable alarm stirring inside me. My thumb found the inside of my hand, feeling the impression inlaid there as an old familiar tingling began to surface on my skin. Was it warning?

  Dr. Dean’s eyes, bright from the fire’s glow reflected in them, zeroed in on mine. It was as though he had something extremely vital to say to me. Something for my ears alone and I had no idea what to expect. I clenched my hand tightly. Had he seen me rubbing the mark on my hand? It was an instinctive thing of late that I reached for the marking etched there, as if my touch could calm the building tremor within my skin and soothe the sense of warning that often came on so strongly.

  But instead, he crossed the room to the bookcases where a rather obscure shadow box hung on the wall. Dr. Dean turned to me and quietly motioned that I too should be inspecting this little shelf-like box. I had never noticed it before, so easily it blended in with the deep tones of the wooded bookcases. It seemed to be filled with knick-knacks, little things that were perhaps precious and meaningful but that went unnoticed stored in the depths of the interior compartment. In the sparse lighting I could make out a small stack of postcards from Hawaii, a small box adorned with shells and beads and several lumpy rocks I assumed were lava.

  “She hates me,” Dr. Dean said quietly. “She believes I took the most important thing from her, which I suppose I did.”

  I looked up at him, standing still by my side. In the dim of the room he appeared wearier than ever.

  “Brynn wants nothing to do with me or with what I consider to be important. So, of course, I always assumed this was the best place to hide what means the most to me.” I watched as he reached up allowing his hand to disappear into the depths of the box, pulling from it a smooth brown, leather book. It was the journal and by his words, had possibly been safe from Brynn’s prying eyes all along.

  I internally questioned why Brynn would want the book in the first place, but remembering the sand on the floor and in her room, I swallowed my urge to ask.

  It seemed that the moment the journal was removed from its safe hiding place, the flames in the fireplace swelled higher—as if boasting or challenging the book itself. My head was playing tricks with me again and I tried to focus on the smooth leather book Nate now held in his hands.

  He took a step closer to me. The flicker from the roaring fire was making the room spin. I was having trouble thinking.

  “You’re not alone in all this.”

  I looked up at him and a familiar kindness sparkled in his gray eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to rely on it. Not yet.

  Without a word, he held his right hand out to me and a shudder seized my body. I stared at his hand in disbelief. He stood patiently, giving me time to process what he was revealing, and then tentatively took my hand and brought it up next to his own. They were nearly identical. He shook his head and smiled, acknowledging what I couldn’t speak.

  “There are others like us.”

  The symbol of unity etched into his hand was faded and worn, maybe because he was a grown man and I still had the smooth hands of youth. I shook my head . . . so many questions.

  “It developed when I was eleven years old. I never understood why, so I kept it hidden from my family and friends. My parents were still very Old World and superstitious, believing that which couldn’t be explained was the work of something dark and dreadful. Besides that, you and I both understand how cruel children can be.

  “I devoted a large part of my life to it, determined to find its meaning. You have no idea how relieved I was to discover that it was not the sign of something dark and evil, but indeed the opposite. My next mission was to find someone else bearing the gift of the angels. I don’t have the ability to see my guardian like you, although I can feel a presence with me at times. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I understood the reason for the mark I was given.”

  I looked at him, my breathing flowing easier into my lungs once again, no longer feeling threatened.

  “You see,” he continued, noticing my ease. “We all have a role to play. An alliance to form. Mine was never spelled out for me, so I had to seek it out on my own.”

  He gently took the journal and began leafing through the delicate pages. My eyes widened when he faced an open page in my direction. Three names took up the entire page. Hadrian’s name was the first, though for
whatever reason, it was crossed out. The next two names gave me chills, for they were bold and dark, as if written in blood, and lacked the black streak striking them out.

  The second name was Lucifer.

  As I read the name, a chill swept through the room and continued down my back.

  The third was a name I knew all too well. A name I tried to avoid for years. I looked down again, the five letters burning themselves into my head.

  Brynn.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “The earth is a footprint of the heavens. It works like a mirror.” Nate’s voice was pitched with unnerving excitement. Finally, he had found someone to share his secret with and he paced feverishly across the uncluttered sections of the study. “Are you familiar with the trinity?”

  I slowly nodded my head. Church had ingrained the trinity in me since I was small.

  “Three is a powerful number. There are legends, stories of its sacred power, and I have come to learn that those stories should not be taken lightly.”

  He made his way over to the tall wall of shelves and earnestly began searching the spines on the lower shelves. If the bookcase was arranged in some sort of order, I would never know. The titles seemed to be placed randomly and only he seemed to know the code. He pulled a small black book from the shelf and thumbed through it.

  “The Rule of Three, the karmic law that what you send out comes back to you threefold, or at three times the power under which you sent it out.”

  He replaced the book and chose another. That one was reddish-brown and ripped, having seen much better days.

  “Three, as in the maiden, the maid and the crone . . .”

  Another book came down from the shelf and Nate read from its pages,“The number “3” is used many times in Chinese culture. As mentioned in the I Ching, pronounced E Ching. It stands for Heaven, Earth and Man. When we bow to offer incense, it is always done three times. In bonsai and ikebana, the patterns follow an irregular triangle to represent the trinity of heaven, earth and man.”

  He replaced the last book and looked at me long and hard. “The fallen believe in the power of the trinity as well. In this case, it consists of three names. If you were to double the power each one holds within himself, it is the same as counting the person twice.” He pointed to each name and began counting by twos. Two, four, six.

  “Now give each one the final number,” he instructed me.

  “Six, six, six,” I whispered.

  There was silence as he allowed me to take it all in.

  “It is Lucifer’s mark. See how he stands between them,” his finger pointed to the name in the middle.

  “I don’t understand. Why is Brynn’s name here?”

  To me she was a stuck-up girl who harbored a lot of issues. To see her name on this list had me completely confounded.

  Dr. Dean’s shoulder’s dropped. “I’m not sure how she fits in. Somehow she’s managed to channel Lucifer’s darkness into her own life. Acknowledging his existence has given her some sort of destructive purpose.” He moved in closer and cautiously took my hand, exposing my lemniscate. “Do you see the mirror image you hold, Teagan?” He drew a line down the middle of the lemniscate with his finger, splitting it in two lengthwise. For a brief second I could envision it - the eight became a different number altogether. A three.

  “It may be impossible to destroy such power but at least you can change it.”

  I stared back at him puzzled.

  “You are the stake to split the darkness. You are the light.”

  Light. Memories of Garreth filled me.

  “To offset the power of the three, you must rely on three of your own. Do you know who I speak of?”

  “But Hadrian, he’s on this list. How can he help?”

  “The opposite of light is dark. Some may think they work against each other, but they don’t. In fact that is the only way they can work. To balance.”

  I thought of Garreth. How could I get a hold of him to even think about helping me? He was practically ignoring me. Except for that look he gave me tonight at the dance. Was the Garreth I knew regaining control?

  “As Hadrian has turned away from Lucifer, Garreth has begun to turn away from you. It is the mirror of light and dark. You must reach him in time before he totally succumbs to true human essence.”

  I nodded. My brooding had been masking how I truly felt about us. I was surprised to realize that everything we had been through, everything we had meant to each other could quickly be pushed aside. He was in my world now and I needed to step up and help him somehow. Once again, I was feeling the bond between us resurface. I missed him so much.

  “Teagan,” Nate interrupted, “you must go after Brynn. She has no idea what she has done.

  “You, and only you, can give her what she seeks. It is the only way to undo what she has started.”

  “I don’t understand. What could she possibly want from me?” I was worried now, but ready to fight for an end to this.

  Nate opened the journal about three quarters of the way toward the end and ripped a page from it. The gesture took me off guard. He had gone through great lengths to protect this book and now he was ripping it apart. But with one glance at the page he offered me, I understood why. It was the map. The same map Brynn had stolen earlier this evening.

  On it were sketched trees, a whole forest full, and a river at the base of a long, curved line. I took the drawing and studied it, feeling my heart quicken as I recognized a clearing in the middle of all the tiny trees with a small square drawn in the center of it. The shape of a cross had been drawn directly above it.

  “There’s a ruined chapel in the woods. It was called Saint . . .”

  “Saint Anne’s,” I whispered. “I’ve been there.”

  A smile tugged at his mouth.

  “You know how to get there then?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Dr. Dean raked his hands through his messy hair and walked to his desk. “I was going to stay here, in case Brynn came back, but I’ll go with you. It’s late.”

  “It’s fine. I’ve been there plenty of times. I’ll go and you stay here. You know, in case she comes back.”

  But his eyes said it all and we both knew how unlikely it was that Brynn would come back here. She had the map, an evil plan, and a very determined mind. And apparently I was the only one who could help her.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I didn’t mind that Nate stayed behind to wait for Brynn. I knew these woods well. Plus there was no way I was going to be chaperoned by my mom’s boyfriend just because of some trees in the dark. Although, I had second thoughts when he reinforced the significance and power of my mark, insisting I was the only one strong enough to fight Brynn’s demons. But it was only because he said the word demon.

  Without a doubt, I knew the small scale drawing on the map was Saint Anne’s. It wasn’t that hard to recognize. I also understood I wasn’t meant to do this alone. So, of course I wrestled with myself emotionally the entire drive, weighing the possibilities if I would find Brynn there, still believing she had discovered something important, and if so, would I find Garreth there as well?

  My answer soon came to me, but it wasn’t Garreth waiting for me.

  It was Hadrian.

  His dark silhouette stood tall and still in the clearing as I drove to the end of the narrow path flanked by overgrowth. My heart was pounding. Hadrian had always lured me. Even in the moments when I had genuinely feared him, his soul called to mine. Garreth, on the other hand, was so light and pure. Now more than ever, we needed to lean on each other, but convincing him of that worried me. We had become too estranged these last few weeks.

  My eyes scanned the trees closest to the constricted lane. The leaves had been falling for weeks, thinning out the normally dense forest, but from what I could see there was no sign of Brynn’s car. That tiny fact made me realize I was alone in the woods with Hadrian and I shivered slightly.

  “I’m looking for Brynn,” I
said, pushing against the door of the car and crunching my way over to him.

  Hadrian’s dark hair stirred in the breeze and he held his hand out to me, making me feel a bit safer.

  “I know, but you’ll need help finding her.”

  Silently, we walked through the dark to where the ruined chapel stood. The last time he and I were here felt eons away. At night, it looked even more deteriorated than the afternoon I had escaped here. Though it was merely a pile of rocks and glass now, it harbored shadows that didn’t exist during the day and felt creepier than I thought it would. I was glad I wasn’t alone.

  I checked the black corners, scanning for Brynn, but she was nowhere, and I looked back at Hadrian, confused.

  He reached down and hooked his finger onto a metal ring in one of the large square stone tiles on the floor. I was completely taken by surprise to see that one of those tiles hid a trap door. It appeared to resist as Hadrian pulled on the ring, but finally gave way revealing a small, cramped space leading down to a pitch black hole in the ground.

  “This is just the beginning,” Hadrian’s voice floated across to me in the dark.

  “Beginning of what?”

  “A journey to overcome my brother’s obsession for control over the willing.”

  “Don’t tell me I need my dagger again.” I thought of following Brynn the same way I had followed Garreth last spring. The ornate dagger had proved to be a portal and although it had worked, the idea filled me with dread. I had been desperate to find Garreth. I wasn’t that desperate to find Brynn.

  “No, this time you only need to follow a sacred path, proving you truly believe that light is more powerful than darkness.”

  Had I heard correctly? Did Hadrian believe light was more powerful than darkness? Thoughts of redemption seeped their way in and I searched his face for the answer, but all too quickly, he turned his attention once again to the dark hole in the floor.

  “The tunnel will take us to the river. From there we cross into New Hope and make our way to another old church. I am certain we will find Brynn there.” Hadrian’s black boot pushed aside some of the rubble lying on the stone floor of the chapel. It had always been littered with stained glass and metal, but the damage was far worse now after the fire last spring. I shuddered with the memory.