The Fog of Forgetting (30 page)

Ratha nodded.

Chase shook his head in disbelief.

“I have searched long and erred many times in my effort to locate the Keeper of the Fifth Stone,” she continued, pacing the edge of the terrace again, her hair and robes streaming behind her. “It is beyond even my sight to know whether this man is the one, but you must understand: He is known to me from another time, long passed. There is no explanation for the continued existence of his vessel than the one I have reasoned. At the very least, he is more than who you think he is—that I am sure of—as he has evaded my efforts to bring him here. Like a fisherman, I have caught others in my net, but never the one whom I seek.”

“But—” Chase protested, his mind reeling with questions. “What makes you think I can convince Captain Nate to come here? And if he is the Keeper of the Fifth Stone, why can't he just come here whenever he wants—by himself?”

“If I knew the answer to your last question I would not need your assistance!” cried Ratha. “For five hundred years we have suffered Dankar's abuses, waiting for the return of the Fifth Stone. It is time for it to end. This man is the key. I know it. He has a debt to pay here and he will pay it—on my father's ashes he will make good!” Her eyes became less transparent and more human in her anger, but the expression on her face was monstrous. Chase recoiled. Here was a Keeper that would see them all dead to get what she wanted. Of
that
, he was sure.

“Okay, okay. It's just that it seems pretty impossible from where I am right now,” he said, trying to placate her. “Plus, I'm just a kid, you know? Grown-ups don't listen to kids where I come from. Especially grown-ups like him. I've never even talked to him.”

Ratha turned on him with a face that reminded him of her brother's in its weariness.

“It is true. You are young, Chase, and—as you have said—it is time for you to go home to your parents. You may think me cruel, but even I am moved by a mother's grief. If they had asked I might have tried to send the others back, as well.” She hesitated, as if the words were stuck in her mouth. “Yet you—and your companions—have been the only ones to come to Ayda from beyond and question the things you were told. And only you, Chase Thompson, have come this far, to my very doorstep, in search of aid. All the others were too easily contented. They grew to love our lands more than their own.” She paused a moment, then spoke quietly, almost to herself. “I wonder, Chase, if that will be your fate? You do love Ayda, do you not?”

Chase said nothing for several minutes. He remembered flying over Ayda, its now-familiar shape nested in a pillow of fog. His own heart constricted. Ratha was right. He did love Ayda—but he loved his parents more.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

Ratha smiled, which startled Chase more than anything else she had done so far. She came close. He felt his emotions soar—his daylights responding to her proximity. If she could feel it, she did not react. He wondered if she wore a necklace too, like her sister. He doubted it. Ratha emanated the power of her stone in a way her siblings did not. She would need no intermediary.

“If you agree to help bring this man to me, the sea captain, I will see to it that Dankar frees the little girl and that you and your companions are sent home.”

Chase raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “You can do that?”

“I would not say so unless I thought I could.”

“But how? Everybody else around here is like—” Chase lifted his hands and shrugged.

Rysta gave him a queer half-smile.

“My brother was not entirely wrong to think that Dankar is open to negotiation—he was only mistaken in understanding what prize Dankar values. Long have I followed the Usurper's thoughts, and to what ends you need not worry. If you agree to shoulder the task set before you, I shall ensure the release of your friend and assist you and your fellow outliers back through the fog. If you decide
not
to do as I ask, you shall be reunited with the friends who remain at large and left to your own fates here on Ayda. I shall not interfere with you again. It is not for any Keeper to control the actions of her people—and despite what you may think of me, I am bound by my vow. The choice is before you; I will leave you here to decide. But do not tarry.”

Ratha's voice hung in the air long after she was gone. Chase stared into the ever-changing tumult of clouds around him, trying to sort it all out. He had no idea how to get off of Ayda, or how he would return, let alone with Captain Nate. And even if they could figure out a way to leave, if what Rysta had told them was true, none of them would remember anything about Ayda once they had passed back through the fog. And if by chance they did remember, like those who left Ayda in the ancient days before the fog, they would be driven crazy with the desire to find it again. Why should they be any different? Ratha must know that. He was doomed to fail.

Chase sighed. The clouds continued to roil around him, changing from deep lavenders to shades of apricot. He thought of the tube with the prisms and mirrors at the bottom that he used to love to look through when he was little. What was it called? The name was on the tip of his tongue. Already he was forgetting things. The longer they all stayed on Ayda, the more they would forget. If they were going to leave, they would have to do it soon. But what then? Spend the rest of his life trying to find a place no one believed in, and convince Captain Nate to go there? The whole plan was ridiculous.
Unless—!

Chase sat bolt upright. Unless Captain Nate really
did
have the Fifth Stone! If he did, then he would
know
Chase wasn't crazy. And surely the Keeper of the Fifth Stone would be able to find his way back to Ayda. Chase felt like vaulting off the stairs. The Fifth Stone was the key. It was the answer to everything!

But what if Captain Nate
didn't
have the stone? Chase rubbed the hilt of his sword across his forehead. The cool weight of it was reassuring. He sighed, thinking of his mother and father and Ratha's vision. He thought about Teddy, far away in Metria, and Frankie imprisoned in Exor. If Ratha sent them all back through the fog, then everyone would be together again in Fells Harbor. Safe. It wouldn't really matter then whether or not Captain Nate had the Fifth Stone—or if he came back with it.
His
own family would be whole again.
But what about Ayda? What about Dankar?
asked a voice inside his head. Night grew close around him, pulling a blanket of dark over the colors at the edge of the sky. More stars emerged, flickering and close. Chase found the North Star, Polaris, aligned directly above the farthest corner of the terrace. His eyes traveled to each corner and then back to the center. Four corners. Four elements. Four winds. Four directions. Four stones—and one center.

He knew what he had to do.

W
hen Ratha returned, she held a large fan in her hand. Her gray eyes were more tender. Chase could now see the resemblance between her and her sister.

“I'll do it,” he said, “but you will have to show me how.”

Ratha smiled her odd smile. “Of course. You didn't think I would send you back through the fog unguided?”

Chase shrugged. He didn't know what to think anymore.

“I … I have a couple of questions,” he stammered. She gestured for him to continue with her fan.

“My mother, my father—what I saw. Has it happened already? Or will I get back in time to prevent it?”

Ratha gently opened and closed the fan, then used it as a pointer to draw an imaginary line in the air.

“The span of a life can be measured in many ways. Time appears to be one-dimensional and linear: one moment following the next, from beginning to end. But what if I were to tell you that time is more like the ridges of this fan?” She slowly opened the first section of the fan.

“Here you are born,” she opened another. “Here you learned to read and to write,” and another two, “and here you came to Ayda. The rest has yet to unfold. We can lay the time out flat”—she opened the fan—“or we can layer it, one event upon another, to create a plane where all things are occurring at once.” She snapped the fan shut and handed it to Chase, who spread it out and closed it a few times, lost in thought.

“So you're saying that everything that is ever going to happen to me is actually happening right now, all at once, even though I can only experience it from one minute to the next?” he asked, his mind groping for understanding.

“Yes!” Ratha exclaimed, happy that his Varunan daylights had kicked in. “Past and future are nothing but visions to comfort the human mind—the only real time is now.”

Chase tapped on the closed fan with his index finger. “And so, you can, sort of, drop us through the layers when we go back through the fog? Send us back to another time?”

She nodded. “It is an imperfect thing, but essentially, yes, I should be able to do so—I will try my best.”

Chase mulled this over for a moment.

“I don't want my mother to worry. Or my father, or Mrs. Dellemere.”

“Granted.”

“And Frankie and Teddy leave with us.”

“Of course.”

“How will I convince Captain Nate to come back here? He won't believe me.”

“You must tell him everything that you remember from your time on Ayda. If he is who I think he is, he will come.”

“Why?

“That does not concern you.”

Chase rubbed his temple. “Okay, then. What's the plan?”

Ratha leaned forward and blew through his lips once more. Her breath snaked through his mind, settling in, and he saw it all play out. When she was finished, his heart was pounding.

“There has to be another way!” he cried.

“There is no other way.” Ratha's face was next to his, her gaze intense and expectant. He realized that she needed him as much as he needed her.

“You must guard this plan with your daylights,” she said. “Remember that your freedom—and that of your companions—depends on its success. Tell no one, not even the wayfarer, Seaborne. He will try to prevent it. He will not understand.”

Overhead, a meteor trailed a shower of sparkling light. Chase had nothing left to say. He lifted the backpack at his feet, shouldered it, and strode to the edge of the terrace. The whirling vapors swirled ferociously around him. He turned back to Ratha.

“One last thing—how the heck do I get down from here?”

“The same way you arrived,” answered Ratha. A man and a woman appeared at the open door of the tower, both dressed in white. One was dark-skinned, the other pale. Both had long white hair and clear eyes. They joined Chase on the stairs.

“Calyphor and Deruda are two of the last remaining ancients. They have lived on Ayda since its creation. It is by the efforts of their kin that my family was brought here so long ago. They will take you to your companions.”

Chase mumbled a greeting. Ratha lifted Chase's chin and locked eyes with him once more.

“We may not meet again, Chase Thompson, but I will be watching you. When you are most alone, I will be with you.” She paused to emphasize her point. “Bring back the sea captain and fulfill your purpose. Ayda will not survive without you.” The wind picked up and the cauldron burst into flame again. With a swirl of her robe, she crossed the terrace. At the furthermost point, she stopped and uttered a single word:

“Kaleidoscope.”

“What?”

“The toy you loved as a child, with the prisms. It's called a kaleidoscope.” She left Chase with his mouth hanging open. Ratha had read his every thought. He eyed the two ancient Varunans next to him warily, wondering if they could do the same. Calyphor stepped behind him and wrapped his arms around Chase's chest. He heard a strange ruffling sound, then a flapping, and before Chase could determine where it came from, Calyphor vaulted off the stairs, launching them both straight into the void.

“
Aiiiyeeeeeeee!
” Chase yelled, his legs flailing wildly.

Calyphor kept him in a death grip, locking his arms against his sides. Chase closed his eyes and tried to stay conscious. They hurtled down, down, down, diving through the whirlwind, the force of their descent causing his lips and cheeks to flutter uncontrollably. The rush of air quieted, and Chase heard a sloughing sound, like a sail catching in the wind. They broke through the clouds and glided swiftly over the dark silhouette of the mountains. It was not yet dawn. The world below lay hushed and sleeping, resting in the pause before the sun ushered in the rigors of the day. Deruda was beside them, her white hair streaming back as she banked into a turn, her wings stretching twelve feet across. Chase could only imagine how large Calyphor's wings were.

Soon they were skimming over the lower mountain ranges, past the glacier where Chase had left the others, over the stony ridges of the mountain pass, and down into the valley toward the glimmering waters of Lake Voss. Calyphor and Deruda landed softly on a wide, pebbly shore, folded their wings compactly beneath their robes, and stood calmly, looking very much the same as before. They pointed down the shallow stretch of beach and then rose again slowly, their wings beating the air. They hovered for a moment above Chase, and then, flew off into the brightening sky.

Chase watched in amazement as they disappeared, then sped across the bank of the lake in the direction they indicated he should go. He almost fell when he tripped over what he took to be a large log.

“Mind yourself, lad!” yelped a familiar, gruff voice. Seaborne sat up, sword in hand, one side of his face coated in sand and small pebbles. Evelyn and Knox were asleep a few feet away, wrapped in their ponchos. Something strong and furry thudded against Chase's back, flattening him.

“It's me … it's me!” he shouted. “Some watchdogs you are!” he joked.

Axl and Tar licked him in the face.

“Did you see me? I
flew
here.”

“Lucky you,” yawned Seaborne, “but don't go thinking you're something special. Evelyn and I had a little bit of the same treatment getting out of that blasted ice coffin.”

“They told us you'd be here!” called Evelyn in a sleepy voice.

Knox launched himself at his brother. He was beaming.

“I knew you'd find her, Chase! I knew it!” he chortled. “How was it? Are you all right?”

“Better now!” replied Chase, happier than he could ever have imagined to see their faces. Just then the sun rose over the treetops, turning the lake a brilliant pink. Evelyn exhaled sharply.

“Chase—your eyes!”

“What?” he asked.

“Look,” she said, and pointed him toward the lake. He knelt low to look at his reflection in the rose-tinted surface. His face looked back at him as clearly as if he had been staring into a mirror, although the image he saw was different than the one he remembered. His hair was longer now, and his face looked older and more angular; it took him several moments of close inspection to realize what Evelyn was talking about.

His blue eyes had turned purple.

Seaborne, Evelyn, and the boys watched together in silence as the rising sun transformed the sky with soft colors that were perfectly reflected off the still surface of the lake. Only after the colors had faded into light blue did Chase speak again. He told them everything that had happened to him since he'd left them on the glacier, or
nearly
everything. He remembered Ratha's warning, and did not fill them in on the details of her plan, saying only that they were to travel back to Metria where they would be reunited with Frankie and Teddy, and sent home through the fog.

“She's been spending too much time up there in the clouds with the birdfolk,” scoffed Seaborne. “No one's ever gone back through the fog.” He turned his back to begin packing up the campsite. “But nonetheless, if she's willing to deal the devil with Dankar and get you back to your sister, that is no small thing, eh, Evelyn?” Seaborne smiled to himself. “And the little one is waiting for you in Metria. It will be good to have you all back where you belong.”

“What about Rothermel and Rysta's meeting, and giving us to Dankar one by one?” asked Knox.

“Ratha said she knows more about what Dankar wants than either her brother or sister,” said Chase. “She said not to worry about it.”

Evelyn stared at the lake, her brow furrowed as if she was trying to work something out for herself.

“How is Ratha supposed to do all this?” she asked, her tone suspicious.

Chase frowned. He shoved some belongings into a bag to mask his nervousness.

“Ratha says we should go back to Metria right away and wait there for Frankie. She didn't tell me how she's going to get her there, just that she would.”

“Then what?” challenged Evelyn.

Chase swallowed, buying some time to think. “Uh, it's kind of hard to explain. She said she's going to create a pocket or a window or something and send us through the fog. Back home.”

“Just like that, huh?” Evelyn looked at Chase sideways. “She's going to do what nobody else has managed to do in the whole history of Ayda? Sounds fishy to me, Chase.”

Seaborne snorted. “More than fishy; downright foolish, and not bloody likely, I'm sorry to say. Ratha thinks a little more highly of herself than she should. That fog was put there by forces more powerful than any one Keeper. She's mad to think of it. You'll end up lost, or worse.”

“Worse?” said Knox.

“Worse,” said Seaborne. “Washed ashore in some godforsaken pit in Exor or dashed on the straits off Varuna. If she thinks I've traveled hundreds of leagues on foot, fought my way through an army of Exorians trying to use me as a torch, and been stuck in a giant block of ice just to stand by and let you set sail in circles …” He lifted his head and shouted into the sky, toward the mountains. “Then she's daft!”

“You don't like her much, do you, Seaborne?” asked Knox, smiling.

Seaborne pulled at his beard. “Varunans aren't generally my sort, I will say that, but I like the lad well enough,” he said, gesturing at Chase. He continued, gazing north toward the mountains again. “Still, if Ratha says we should go to Metria, then I think that's where we should go, and if she can get you back to your sister, then so much the better; but I don't believe a word she says about passing through the fog and going home. That was a cruel thing to put in your head. Don't think on it anymore, Chase, or any of you, for that matter. It's impossible. And even if it weren't, your minds would be so disordered when you came out the other side that you wouldn't recognize yourselves. It's another one of her visions, and a dangerous one at that.”

“Do you think she meant what she said about Frankie?” Evelyn asked Chase.

“Ratha is the most powerful Keeper I've met,” said Chase, shrugging. “She's helped us so far. So, yeah, I think she meant it.”

He looked back at the mountains. Somewhere beyond his sight Ratha was watching. He shivered a little at the memory of her, as if a cold wind had crawled up his poncho. “I don't think we have a choice. We'll just have to trust her.”

“Bad idea,” harrumphed Seaborne. “But a bad idea is better than no idea, I'll wager.”