Rise of the Mystics Read online

  © 2018 by Kiwone, Inc. f/s/o Ted Dekker

  Published by Revell

  a division of Baker Publishing Group

  PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

  www.revellbooks.com

  Ebook edition created 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4934-1507-6

  Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the New American Standard Bible®, copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. (www.Lockman.org)

  Scripture quotations labeled ABPE are from The Original Aramaic New Testament in Plain English—with Psalms & Proverbs. Copyright © 2007; 8th edition Copyright © 2013. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

  Scripture quotations labeled BLB are from The Holy Bible, Berean Literal Bible, BLB. Copyright © 2016 by Bible Hub. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  Scripture quotations labeled BSB are from The Holy Bible, Berean Study Bible, BSB. Copyright © 2016 by Bible Hub. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  Scripture quotations labeled DARBY are from the Darby Translation of the Bible.

  Scripture quotations labeled HCSB are from the Holman Christian Standard Bible®, copyright © 1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2009 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Holman Christian Standard Bible®, Holman CSB®, and HCSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers.

  Scripture quotations labeled KJV are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  Scripture quotations labeled NIV are from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com

  Scripture quotations labeled WEB are from the World English Bible.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Author is represented by Creative Trust Literary Group, LLC, 210 Jamestown Park Drive, Suite 200, Brentwood, TN 37027, www.creativetrust.com.

  Praise for The 49th Mystic

  “A welcome return to the world of the Circle and a fine novel in its own right.”

  Booklist

  “Fans of the Circle series will certainly want to check out Dekker’s latest.”

  RT Book Reviews

  “Creatively entwined with teachings from Scripture, Dekker’s book will appeal to readers looking for a thrilling, faith-driven adventure.”

  Publishers Weekly

  “Dekker’s work helps readers to explore the difficult questions of life and faith that he wrestles with himself. Using story to communicate biblical principles rather than offering a sermon.”

  Christian MARKET

  Praise for Ted Dekker

  “[Dekker’s writing] may be a genre unto itself.”

  New York Times on A.D. 30

  “Ted Dekker is a true master of thrillers.”

  Nelson DeMille, New York Times bestselling author, on BoneMan’s Daughters

  “A daring and completely riveting thriller.”

  Booklist on The Priest’s Graveyard

  “The depth of insight and development into characters is outstanding. . . . This is a must read.”

  RT Book Reviews, Top Pick on A.D. 30

  “If you’ve never visited Ted Dekker’s world, do it. Beguiling, compelling, challenging, and riveting—fantastic, gimmick-free storytelling—that’s what you get with Ted Dekker. Don’t pass this one up.”

  Steve Berry, New York Times bestselling author, on The Priest’s Graveyard

  “Ted Dekker is a master of suspense.”

  Library Journal

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Endorsements

  Epigraph

  Previously in The 49th Mystic Book 1

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  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Back Ad

  Talya’s Journal

  Back Cover

  Seeing, they do not see.

  Hearing, they do not hear.

  Yeshua AD 32

  You should read book 1, The 49th Mystic, before reading this novel. Think of it as season 1 and Rise of the Mystics as season 2, the completion of one overarching story, one that leaves behind the old, limiting confines of your mind. The ride is wild and sometimes bumpy, so hold on tight. There is no greater thrill than finding freedom from the shackles of a common existence. The old mind offers no life at all.

  And so it continues . . .

  Previously in

  The 49th Mystic

  Book 1

  This is book 2 in the story of Rachelle Matthews, who came to be known as the 49th Mystic.

  Born with sickle cell anemia in Eden, Utah, Rachelle became blind within months of her birth. She lived in that darkness for sixteen years, struggling with terrifying nightmares of the Shadow Man, who promised to blind her again and again even if she did recover her sight. Her father, David, desperately searched for a cure.

  It was when he found one that the Shadow Man walked out of Rachelle’s dreams and into Eden. He called himself Vlad Smith and he carried a Book of History, a mystical volume that allowed certain people to cross over into Other Earth, a dimension that mirrors Earth.

  Without Rachelle’s knowing, Vlad took her blood and applied it to the book, and she awoke in Other Earth with no memory of who she was. From that point forward, every time she fell asleep in Other Earth, she woke up on Earth, and every time she fell asleep on Earth, she woke up in Other Earth.

  But a man named Justin, who was far more than just a man, came to her in the desert and healed her blindness, and when she awoke in Eden, Utah, she could see. That’s how Rachelle learned that both realities had to be real.

  And she learned much more.

  She learned she was a Mystic in Other Earth. Unlike the Albinos and the Horde, who numbered in the millions, there were only a few dozen Mystics. Seen as the worst kind of heretic, they were despised by all.

  More, she was the 49th Mystic. Her mission: to fulfill an ancient prophecy that foretold of a child to be born in Other Earth who would divide the world to expose the shadow of death. Only then would the lion lie down with the lamb, meaning that fear would yield to love in the hearts of all. But neither Albino nor Horde interpreted the prophecy this way. Each race was convinced that if the 49th succeeded, they would be
subjugated by their enemies. Thus, she was the enemy of all.

  Rachelle also learned that, as the 49th Mystic, she could only fulfill the prophecy if she overcame her own fear. And the only way she could conquer her own fear was to find the Five Seals of Truth before the Horde or the Albinos found and destroyed the Realm of Mystics.

  If she failed to find all five seals before then, all would be forever lost in Other Earth. And Earth would face a terrible threat, yet unknown.

  Stunned by the revelation that so much hung in the balance of her quest, Rachelle learned that a powerful Leedhan had been sent from Other Earth to Earth with the sole mission of preventing her from finding all five seals before the Realm of Mystics could be destroyed.

  He was Vlad Smith, the Shadow Man who’d haunted her dreams and entered Eden in an attempt to prevent her from finding the seals.

  Facing what felt like insurmountable odds, Rachelle began her quest with the help of Talya, a wise sage who’d been tasked with helping her discover the five seals. They weren’t five amulets or medallions but five truths, and when she discovered each, a seal appeared on her shoulder as a three-dimensional tattoo.

  She found the First Seal in Eden, and it branded her shoulder with a luminescent white circle. White: Origin is Infinite. Meaning Elyon, who was God, could not be threatened or disturbed by anything finite. Nor could he suffer fear, least of all the fear of loss, on any level. He was the light in which there was no darkness.

  She found the Second Seal in Other Earth, and it branded her shoulder as a green band of light. Green: I am the Light of the World. Inchristi is me and also in me. Meaning she was made in the fabric of her Father, one with Justin and so as safe as Elyon.

  She found the Third Seal on Earth when she saved Eden by bringing down the synthetic sky, and that seal appeared on her shoulder as a black circle. Black: Seeing the Light in Darkness is my Journey. Meaning her journey during this life was a journey of transformation that allowed her to see who she was as the light of the world, joined as one with Justin.

  But not all ended well from her limited perspective, even in the wonder of finding the first three seals. For starters, the seals she had could be rendered powerless until she found all five of them, Talya said. Against the Fifth Seal there was no defense, but unless she found the last two before the Realm of Mystics was destroyed, all would be lost.

  Furthermore, Vlad Smith, the Shadow Man, proved to be a deviously manipulative adversary who accomplished his objectives in Eden and returned to Other Earth to prepare for a final assault on the 49th Mystic.

  Most disturbingly, although Rachelle saved the town in a demonstration of great power, she was forced to write her father into Other Earth, where he now remains a slave of Vlad—to what end, she does not know.

  On Earth, her heroic rescue of Eden was heralded by the world as a wonder that defied the mind.

  But in Other Earth, she found herself captive to the Elyonites, imprisoned alone in a dark dungeon far beneath the city.

  As she shivers deep in the dark Elyonite dungeon, the light she once felt in such staggering fashion grows dimmer each hour. The armies of the Horde and the Elyonites are gathering for a war that will tear the world apart. In that war, they will surely find and destroy the Realm of Mystics before Rachelle can find the last two seals.

  Samuel, the Albino son of Thomas Hunter, might save her. He’s smitten with her. Jacob, the Horde son of Qurong, might save her. She thinks she might be falling in love with him. Thomas Hunter, supreme commander of the Circle, might save her. Talya’s gone to find him. She can only hope and pray.

  At least she’s safe and secure on Earth.

  These are Rachelle’s thoughts as she tries to be brave in the Elyonite dungeon.

  But Rachelle is wrong. Very wrong.

  1

  I ONCE KNEW who I was.

  More precisely put, I once thought I knew who I was, but four months of intense therapy aided by psychotropic drugs slowly showed me who I really was. Even more precisely put, all that therapy helped me see who I wasn’t.

  I wasn’t the girl who’d saved the residents of Eden, Utah, by bringing down the synthetic sky as I once thought I had. That was DARPA, as part of its experimental process.

  I wasn’t the girl who could travel to other worlds in her dreams—those were all implanted memories, one of the unfortunate triggers that had led to my schizophrenia. I hadn’t dreamed in months, and the dreams I used to have were lost in a distant fog.

  I had confronted a man named Vlad Smith, but he was only a part of DARPA’s programming, designed to test us all to a breaking point. He was a phantom implanted in our brains, they said. He didn’t really exist, which is why he’d vanished.

  That’s what they’ve told me, and I believe them.

  So who was I as I sat there in the lab across from Charlene Morton, one of the therapists who tested my brain to monitor my progress? I was Rachelle, a girl who’d just turned seventeen. I was one of the survivors of Eden who was well on her way to healing, though I can’t say I loved the process. Then again, no pain, no gain, right? It had taken me a few months to accept the truth, but at least I was finally on the road to a full recovery.

  “Are you ready, Rachelle?”

  “Always,” I said. The wireless cradle on my head, called a Mindflex, had been custom fit to my head. Its twenty-four sensors read all of my brain activity and displayed the data on both Charlene’s monitor and the screens behind the one-way glass to my right. I was a bit of a celebrity at DARPA, and I can’t say I didn’t find all the attention comforting. My dad and I were the only two residents from Eden at the facility—the rest were in other “integration centers,” adjusting to a new reality. But my dad and I were special to DARPA.

  Charlene moved her coffee cup to the side and smiled at me. One of the voices in my head—the one I associated with Charlene—whispered, Poor girl, she has no clue.

  My thoughts were often a bit fuzzy due to the drugs, but my auditory and visual hallucinations cut through all that fog with amazing clarity. I’d learned to mostly ignore them, knowing they were simply misfiring neural connections.

  She studied me with warm eyes, preparing the numbered cards that she would quickly flip through before asking me to recite the numbers I’d seen. I’d done the same exercise dozens of times. It was designed to measure my ability to recognize and recall images the way a normal brain does.

  “You’re having auditory hallucinations,” Charlene said, glancing at her screen.

  “Just a little,” I said.

  “What did you hear?”

  I hesitated. Some of what the voices in my head said could be embarrassing, and I often changed what I actually heard. The voice might say anything, no matter how inappropriate. I used to attribute those voices to the people around me, thinking I could hear their thoughts.

  “I heard, ‘Poor girl, she has no clue,’” I said, then grinned. “I guess I’m feeling sorry for myself today.”

  Charlene held my gaze. “Are you? Or is that just a stray, uncontrolled thought you associated with me?”

  “One associated with you. But really me.”

  “That’s good, Rachelle.” She tapped a few keys, then faced the deck of cards toward me so I could see the first card clearly—9. “Focus on the cards.”

  I already was.

  Using her thumb, she fanned the cards so they landed facedown on the table, giving me a very brief glimpse of each one. I can’t say I was consciously seeing the number on each card, but a string of numbers popped into my mind as the deck of cards fell in about four seconds.

  “What did you see?”

  “9, 23, 24, 52, 4, 11, 21, 27, 2, 12, 32, 45 . . .” I continued on, because I could see the numbers there in my head, floating across a white horizon the same way I always saw numbers or any other image they showed me. She let me recite what I was seeing, and somewhere in there the voice spoke again.

  Amazing. Never get used to it.

  Again, Charlen
e’s voice, but really just my mind speaking to me, telling me how impressed I was with myself.

  “How’d I do?” I asked when my mind went blank.

  She lifted her eyes from the screen. “Good.”

  “Better?”

  “Let’s just say your brain is lighting up like a Christmas tree. Slowly but surely we’re forcing it to make typical connections. So, yes . . .”

  I didn’t hear the rest because I was seeing her elbow bump her black coffee cup off the table, and I bolted from my chair, acting from pure instinct, not wanting to see the cup shatter on the floor and make a mess. Three steps and I was there, catching the cup before it had fallen more than a foot.

  I held it there for a moment, then stood up and set it down, grinning at her. “Close one.”

  “Close indeed. Thank you, Rachelle.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  That was one thing I was really good at. Moving quickly. Project Eden had messed up my brain, but all that rewiring had somehow formed new neural connections that allowed me to perceive and react to motion with catlike quickness. I couldn’t exactly catch bullets, but I could move like a ninja, as Steve put it.

  Steve Collingsworth was the young DARPA scientist who’d been the first to reach Eden when they dissolved the sky and brought us all out safely. Next to my dad, he was my closest friend now.

  Ninja practice, he sometimes called the physical tests they put me through. I sometimes thought Charlene knocked stuff off the table on purpose, just to see how quickly I would react.

  They wanted to cure me, I was sure of that, but they also wanted to understand how my brain and body could operate in such a unique way. That’s why I was special to them. At times I wondered if they were actually more interested in studying me than helping me, but even so I didn’t mind. I, too, wanted to know how I could do the things I could do. If that meant being their guinea pig, so be it.

  No one had ever encountered a mind quite as gloriously messed up as mine. If they could figure out what was happening to me, they might be able to re-create the good without the bad. I was playing my part in the evolution of the human mind/body connections.

  I returned to my seat, feeling accomplished.