A Wrinkle in Time Quintet (120 page)

Now his terrified gaze met hers. “You’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

He sat up. “I’ll die if it will help you, I will, I will.”

“You don’t need to, Zach. There is peace now on both sides of the lake.”

“But what I did—I can’t be forgiven—” He looked wildly from Polly to Tynak to the bishop.

“Zachary.” The bishop spoke
softly but compellingly. “William Langland, writing around 1400, said, ‘And all the wickedness in the world that man might work or think is no more to the mercy of God than a live coal in the sea.’”

Zachary shook his head. “I went beyond—beyond mercy.” He gasped, and the blueness around his lips deepened. The healer reached out and placed his palm on Zachary’s chest. As Cub had steadied the bishop’s
breathing, so the healer steadied Zachary’s.

“Help him,” Tynak commanded. “It would be a bad omen to have a death now.”

Karralys knelt and lifted Zachary so that the young man lay against his chest. With one arm he supported him. His right hand reached under Zachary’s wet clothes, and he nodded at the healer. The old man opened Zachary’s jacket and shirt, baring his chest. Then his hands joined
Karralys’s, hovering delicately, as though his ancient fingers were listening. Karralys breathed slowly, steadily, so that Zachary’s limp body, held firmly against the druid’s strong one, could feel and catch the rhythm. He looked at the bishop. “Please.”

The bishop, too, knelt, placing his long, thin hands over Zachary’s chest.

The healer nodded at Polly.

She lifted her hands, held them out,
and then she was caught in the restoring power of the healer and Karralys and the bishop, their hands not touching, but tenderly moving over Zachary’s pale and flaccid chest. Again Polly felt the golden tingling, and then a stab of acute pain went through her body like lightning, eased off, leaving her weak and trembling. Again came the warmth, the gold.

Karralys’s hands seemed to have a life
of their own. They hovered like bird wings, like a firebird. His eyes changed from their serene blue to the burning gold of the stone in his torque and the faint lines in his face deepened. He was far older than Polly had realized. She felt that her hands, her eyes, her mind, her whole body was caught in the electric power which Karralys and the healer and the bishop were sending through Zachary.
They were, she felt, mending his heart, but far more than his heart. The depth of the healing was not merely physical but poured through the core of Zachary himself.

Time shimmered. Stopped. Polly was not sure that she was breathing, or that her heart was beating. Everything was focused on Zachary.

Tynak let out a hissing sound and time began again. Polly could feel the steady beating of her
heart. The tingling warmth left her hands, but this time they were not cold but warm, and dry. Karralys sat back on his heels, Zachary still leaning against him.

“It is well,” the healer breathed.

Karralys smiled. “It is well.”

The bishop rose, looking down at Zachary. “It is well.”

Now Polly, too, sat back. “Zachary?”

The blue was gone from his lips. “I—I—” he stammered.

“Hush,” the bishop
said. “You don’t need to say anything.” He looked at Karralys. “His heart?”

“It will do,” Karralys said. “It is not perfect, but it will do.”

“Much power,” the healer said. “Great, good power.” He looked at Og, who was sitting watching, ears pricked high; at Louise the Larger, who was lying quietly, coiled into a circle. “All work together. Good.”

“Am—am—am I all right?” Zachary’s voice trembled.

“Not perfect,” the bishop said, “but Karralys tells us that your heart will do.”

“Yes. Yes.” A touch of color came to his cheeks. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing.”

“But I was willing to let Polly die, and you still helped me.”

“You will not do Polly, or any of us, any good by holding on to your guilt. You will help by taking proper care of yourself. There is more to be renewed than your
heart.”

“I know. I know. Oh, this time I know.”

“Come.” Karralys stood. “The storm is over. Now there is rain.” The clouds deepened and rain fell, soft, penetrating rain, quenching the thirst of the parched earth. Now winter wheat could be planted, the ground prepared for spring. “Let us cross the lake,” Karralys said. “Anaral, Cub, Tav are all anxiously waiting.”

Tynak and the healer escorted
them to the canoe. Klep, helped by Winter Frost and Dark Swallow, stood on the shore and waved goodbye.

“To Anaral you will give my love.” Now that Klep had learned the word “love,” his face glowed with joy each time he said it.

The healer raised his arm in blessing.

“Come,” Tynak said to the healer and Klep. “At the sixth of the moon we will invite them—all the tribe—for a feast. They will
not mind that the food has come from them.”

Karralys laughed, and Winter Frost and Dark Swallow splashed into the water, pushing the canoe until it floated free.

Cub and Anaral were waiting eagerly to greet them and ran into the lake to help pull up the canoe. Once ashore, Polly found that she was trembling so that she could hardly walk. Cub put his arm around her and led her into Karralys’s
tent. “You have given too much.” He helped her onto one of the fern beds.

Where was Tav, she wondered.

The bishop looked at her lovingly. “The virtue has been drained from her. It will return.”

“I don’t want to be a goddess anymore,” Polly said.

Anaral brought her a warm drink, and she sipped, letting it slide down her throat and warm her whole body.

“Klep—” Anaral asked.

“He is all right,”
Polly assured her.

“Truly all right?”

“He has moved his leg more than he should, but he’s all right. He loves you, Annie.”

A gentle drifting of color moved over her cheeks. “I am so glad, so glad.” She reached out and pressed Polly’s hand.

Polly returned the pressure, then looked around for Tav, and realized that not only did she not see Tav, she did not see Zachary. “Where’s Zachary?” she
asked.

“With Karralys.” Cub squatted by Polly, taking her wrist in his gentle fingers, letting it fall only after he was satisfied.

“Don’t let him come here,” Polly implored.

Cub looked at her questioningly.

“I don’t want to see him.” If she had to do it all over again, she would do the same thing. She would go back across the lake. She would hold her hands with the healer and Karralys and
the bishop over Zachary’s heart. But now it was done; it was done and there was nothing left except an exhaustion that was far more than physical.

The bishop smiled at Polly. “I have a great question that will never be answered: Did the time gate open for me, and then for Polly, because of Zachary?”

Karralys entered as the bishop spoke. “Who knows for whom the time gate opened.” His voice was
quiet. “What has happened here, in this time, may have some effect we do not know and cannot even suspect, here in my time, or perhaps in yours. Let us not try to understand the pattern, only rejoice in its beauty.”

Was Zachary part of the beauty, Polly wondered. But she was too exhausted to speak.

“Cub.” Karralys turned. “Will you go to Zachary, please, and stay with him?”

Cub nodded and left,
obediently, just as Tav burst into the tent.

“Poll-ee!” He rushed to her.

“Tav!”

Tav knelt on the packed earth in front of her, raised one hand, and gently touched her lips. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Truly?”

“Truly, Tav.” There was a deep sadness in her heart. She would not see Tav again, and that was grief.

“And that Zak?” Tav demanded.

“He is all right, too.”

Tav scowled. “He
would have let you be killed.”

“But he didn’t.”

“He wanted to.”

“Not really, Tav.”

“He is not worth one hair of your head.”

Anaral nodded. “I am still very angry with him.”

“Annie,” the bishop chided gently. “You do not think that all that Polly went through was for the sake of Zachary’s physical heart.”

“I don’t know.” Anaral’s voice was low. “It is Poll-ee I care about. Not Zachary.”

“Don’t care?”

“Bishop! Maybe his heart”—she touched her chest—“is better. But what about the part of his heart that would let Poll-ee be sacrificed, her life for his?”

“Change is always possible,” the bishop said.

Anaral looked rebellious. “For Zak? Who helped kidnap Poll-ee? Who would have let her be put on the altar stone? Who would not have stopped the knife? Can he change? Can he?”

“Can
you truly say that change is not possible? Can you refuse him that chance? Can you say that only his physical heart was healed?”

Tav growled, “He would have harmed my Poll-ee.”

“Zachary hit bottom,” the bishop said. “It was an ugly bottom, yes. But in the pit he saw himself.”

Tav pounded his spear angrily on the ground.

The bishop continued, “Now it is up to him.”

Anaral scowled.

The bishop
smiled. “Your anger won’t last, Annie. You are warm of heart.”

“Poll-ee is back.” Tav reached out again to touch her. “Poll-ee is back. That is all that matters. I do not think about that Zak. I think about Poll-ee, and that the rain has come.”

“Yes.”

“And now you will go.” He held his hands out to her with longing.

She sighed deeply. “To my own time, Tav. If the threshold is open.”

“And
Zachary?” Tav demanded. “Do you have to take him with you?”

At last Polly laughed. “Do you want him here?”

Tav scowled. “He did not want my Poll-ee out of obedience to the Mother, or for any good save his own.”

The bishop looked around the tent. “When Zachary saw Annie, he entered the circles of overlapping time.
Behold, I have set before you an open door, and no man can shut it
.”

“Words of
power,” Karralys said.

“Yes,” the bishop agreed. “From John’s Revelation.”

“And is the door to stay open, Bishop?” Anaral asked.

“No, Annie. No. But it was wide open when Polly made the decision to return across the lake to Zachary, and you must honor that decision.” He turned to Polly. “You were very brave, my dear.”

“I wasn’t brave. I was terrified.”

“But you went ahead and did what you
had to do.”

Og reached out and licked her fingers. Cub opened the tent flap and came in with Zachary. “It is time?”

Polly looked at Zachary and felt nothing. No anger. No fear. No love.

“Yes,” Karralys said. “It is time.”

Zachary stood between Karralys and Cub, his face pale, but there was no blueness to his lips. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t speak,” Karralys said.

Zachary looked
from one to the other. “What I did was beyond apology.”

“You were out of your mind with self,” Karralys said. “Now you must understand that though your life has been lengthened, ultimately you will die to this life. It is the way of the mortal.”

“Yes,” Zachary said. “I know that. Now.”

“And in you there is still much healing to be accomplished.”

“I know.” Zachary was as subdued as a small
child after a spanking. But he was not a small child. “I will try.” He turned to Polly. “May I come see you?”

Her hand stroked Og’s head. “No, Zachary. I’m sorry. I don’t want to see you again. It wouldn’t be a good idea, for either of us.” Her voice was level, emotionless. She had had to go back across the lake for Zachary. But what had to be done had been done.

“But—”

“There are things which
you have to learn alone,” Karralys said. “One is that you have to live with yourself.”

“I don’t like myself,” Zachary said.

“You must learn to.” The bishop’s words were a command. “From this moment on, your behavior must be such that when you go to bed at night you will be happy with what you have done during the day.”

“Can that happen?” Zachary asked. He looked at Polly. “Can it?”

“Yes, Zachary.
It can happen, if you will let it.”

Louise the Larger slid across the packed earth, out of the tent.

“Follow her,” Karralys ordered.

Tav went to Polly, spoke longingly. “I must let you go?”

“From your presence,” Karralys said. “Not from your heart.”

“Now I know,” Tav said softly, “I was wrong about the Mother. The Mother asks the sacrifice of love. You have shown me that.” He touched Polly’s
lips with his finger and turned quickly away.

Anaral stretched her hands out toward Polly but did not touch her. “We will always be friends.”

“Always.”

“And Klep and I will hold you in our hearts.”

“You will be in mine.”

“The lines of love cross time and space.” But a tear slid down Anaral’s cheek.

Karralys turned toward Polly, took both her hands in his. “We will never forget you.”

“Nor
I you.”

“And, Bishop Heron, when you came to us through the time gate you started it all.”

The bishop smiled. “I, Karralys? Oh, I think not.”

At the entrance to the tent, Og barked impatiently.

Karralys stroked Og’s head, then said, “I will send Og with you, Polly. You and your grandparents have need of a good guardian dog, and Og is that.”

Again Og barked, imperiously.

“Come.” Bishop Colubra
led the way out of the tent. Polly followed him, and Og nudged his cold nose into her hand. Behind them, the lake shimmered. The white peaks of the mountains reached sharply into the sky.

When they reached the stone wall, Louise the Larger was lying in a warm splash of sunlight. She raised herself up, then slithered down between the rocks.

Polly looked around. The trees were their own young
trees, the Grandfather Oak overshadowing them all. The snow-capped mountains were gone, and the ancient hills lay quietly on the horizon. She was back in her own time.

Someone must have been keeping watch. The Murrys and Dr. Louise came running through the apple orchard, across the field, running to greet them. There was much hugging, tears of relief, joyous barking from Og.

Zachary stood
quietly apart.