Rise of the Mystics Read online

  “Do you come into our noose to save your precious Albino?”

  It was Jacob, then! The priest was punishing him for turning Albino! They’d set him as a trap.

  “Take her!” he screeched.

  Seven or eight Horde broke from the left, six Elyonites from the right, all galloping toward me. They were halfway to me before I lifted both arms, palms facing each group of warriors. As if hit by an unseen force, their horses pulled up sharply, rearing, clawing at the air with their hooves.

  “No,” I said.

  A commotion stirred among all who could see. Qurong’s horse jerked back, stamping. Aaron stared at me, stunned.

  “No, you will not take me.” Power surged through me. “You will cut him down.”

  Ba’al grinned wickedly, lifting the spearhead to Jacob’s side. The sharp tip rested against his flesh.

  “You don’t understand, witch. Either he dies or you surrender yourself to face the consequences of your heresy. Five hundred thousand warriors encircle you. How many can you take before an arrow finds his heart?”

  And with that he gave his spear a little jab. Enough to send pain through the man’s body and jerk him back into consciousness.

  He groaned and lifted his head. His hair fell from his face and I saw that it wasn’t Jacob. It was Samuel. Samuel.

  His eyes fluttered open and he looked at me, only half aware. But in his eyes I could see that he’d betrayed me. They knew where the Realm of Mystics was.

  Now they’d betrayed him, beaten him, humiliated him in the face of the whole world. None of them could see the Shataiki flapping around his head now, driving their talons into his brain, feeding on what life he still had.

  None of them could see, but I could, and compassion swallowed me whole.

  What is shown to be in the one who sees?

  A commotion behind me begged for my attention—someone yelling my name—but it felt distant. I stared at Samuel, unable to tear my eyes from his face, stunned by the surge of new emotions washing through me. I didn’t lower myself to the energy of pity for him. Compassion was something else. An openness to him. A oneness with him.

  Tell me, what is shown to be in the one who sees? Whisper it to me. Join with me and we will tell the world.

  I knew the answer, didn’t I? My heart knew. But I didn’t have the words.

  The commotion behind me grew louder. Qurong grunted. A murmur rose from the Horde army on my left. But I was swimming in a new knowing, and I felt my muscles begin to relax.

  Everything seemed to slow down. Sound became distant. A faint hum filled the valley. The Shataiki became more frantic, screeching now, but even those panicked shrieks were oddly vacant.

  Yes, sweet daughter. Yes . . .

  “Rachelle!” a voice was crying out behind me.

  Jacob’s voice. He’d returned. My beautiful Jacob had come back. But I didn’t turn. He wasn’t my path now. Samuel was.

  My hands began to tremble. What my mind was accepting, my body still couldn’t fully grasp.

  Then Jacob was to my right, pulling his mount up with tight reins. His eyes darted to the cross. Then to Qurong. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  I felt a tear slip down my cheek. Samuel, Samuel, dear Samuel . . . In that moment Samuel was Jacob, you see? What you do to the least of these, you do to me. I held no distinction between Jacob and Samuel then. One was no more special than the other.

  “Back away!” Ba’al snarled at Jacob. “You defile all that is sacred, and now you conspire with the wickedness that tears this world in two. Back!”

  Jacob’s mount stamped. He spun to me. “Save yourself, Rachelle! Samuel’s chosen his path.”

  Qurong had turned his face from Jacob. The world went still around me as I slowly turned my head to look into Jacob’s eyes. How beautiful he was! Such a worthy man with a heart spun from gold.

  My jaw quivered as I spoke, still flowing with a sweeping power none of them yet knew.

  “I love you, Jacob,” I said. “This is my path. It’s going to be okay.”

  “What’s your path?”

  “Samuel,” I said, facing Ba’al. “Cut him down and take me.”

  “No!” Jacob cried.

  I slid from my horse and walked toward Ba’al.

  “Cut him down,” I said, dropping to my knees in the sand. “Set Samuel free and the 49th is yours.”

  Ba’al had frozen, taken off guard. Feet landed hard in the sand behind me.

  “Then you’ll take me!” Jacob rasped, falling to his knees. “Take me for her!”

  “Qurong!” I heard Jacob’s mother screaming behind us, rushing through the ranks. “Jacob!”

  “Hold her back!” Ba’al cried.

  “Don’t you dare touch my boy, you filthy little beast! Jacob . . .”

  Then she was silenced. I heard her body crash to the ground.

  Part of me wanted to protest with her, but my eyes were on Samuel again, hanging above me, body broken, spirit crushed. He was the light of the world, there before me.

  What a beautiful daughter you are to me. What a beautiful son he is to me. Now you know, dear one. Now you know.

  Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. They weren’t for me or for Jacob. They were tears of compassion for Samuel. Beautiful, beautiful son, Samuel . . .

  Ba’al snapped his fingers and one of the guards approached Jacob. A nod from Ba’al and his mallet fell on Jacob’s head. My warrior fell face forward in the sand.

  But my eyes were still on Samuel and I was weeping with him now. He was every man, every woman, every child, every father, every mother, desperate to know themselves in a world of polarity, torn apart by opposites.

  And yet I wasn’t torn in that moment. I wasn’t opposites. I was love.

  Ba’al stepped forward, gloating. “And so the end has come. Salvation awaits us all!” His voice rang out for all to hear. He shoved his spear at me.

  “Take her!”

  33

  OBLIVIOUS to what was happening in Other Earth, I slipped into a strange, disconnected space as Steve drove Karen, Thomas, and me toward the city that evening.

  Thomas and I sat in the back. We saw in each other’s eyes a great knowing that could hardly be given words in this world. I don’t think either of us knew what would happen. Only that this was our path.

  He offered me a thin smile, took my hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was all I needed.

  The plan was simple. It was time for me to give truth to the world. Talya had said the Fourth Seal would lead to the Fifth Seal. In the surrender of that Fourth Seal I knew I wasn’t in need of anything. The earthen vessel had its wants and needs, but I was no longer needing anything because I was the light and the light had no lack.

  True life was really about giving, not receiving, because giving was receiving. We were all one, even the least among us, as Yeshua had said.

  So now I would give. In giving I would find the Fifth Seal. What I would give might divide the world, I didn’t know. Justin had said I would bring a great crisis and I had, more in Other Earth than here. Maybe now that would change.

  I just didn’t know and that was okay. I was okay. Everything was okay.

  That’s what the boy had said, and I believed him.

  We drove through streets and dark alleys, headed to some warehouse district, Karen said. No one could know we were meeting with the president. It was terribly dangerous. Everything was terribly, terribly dangerous.

  She was wrong, of course, but I didn’t say anything.

  It was just after ten when we pulled up to a door off an alleyway. I could see light leaking through pulled blinds on the window. Two Secret Service agents quickly ushered us from the car into an office off a warehouse, although it didn’t look like any warehouse I’d seen.

  The office had thick white carpet and bookcases, four chairs, and a dark wood desk with a computer screen and a brass lamp. Three mounted heads of deer or antelope or something in that vein hung from one of the wa
lls. A cabinet with a glass door held several rifles with scopes.

  A tall man in a blue suit stood and looked at us for a moment, first me, then Thomas. Dark circles sat under tired eyes. Bombing churches could do that to a person. He was the president of the United States—the most powerful man in the world, Steve said—but to me he was just a man, lost in his earthen vessel.

  “You’re the one who claims to be Thomas Hunter?”

  “Yes, Commander. Sir. Yes, sir. I am Thomas.”

  The president glanced at Karen. “How’s this possible?”

  “I don’t know, but I ran a facial scan. It’s him.”

  “Actually him? I thought he was only claiming to be him.”

  “I told you, it’s him.”

  This was news—a revelation that seemed to bother the president a great deal.

  “And you’re Steve.”

  “That’s right.”

  To one of his guards: “Please escort Steve to the holding room.”

  “What do you mean? No, you don’t understand. I’m not leaving her with—”

  “I understand perfectly well, Steve. Please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”

  “It’s okay, Steve.” I gave him a nod.

  He left with some reluctance, but it was better, I thought. He’d done enough. If we got through this, I’d make sure the world knew how he had helped me.

  If we got through this . . . For the first time since I’d found the Fourth Seal, a hint of worry coiled itself around my mind. I still had to find the Fifth Seal. I still didn’t know what was happening in Other Earth, and I wouldn’t until I slept, assuming I dreamed again. I thought I was supposed to tell the world some truth, but didn’t the world always crucify its prophets?

  Even questioning the status quo caused a great ruckus among those who were heavily invested in their version of truth. Questions caused them to feel threatened and fearful. They didn’t know that there was no fear in love.

  That was my earthen vessel’s mind talking. But still . . .

  Pulse surging, I spoke as soon as the door closed.

  “This is very simple. You may have meant well, but you killed a lot of people. There’s no way to hide that. By now you know that Vlad Smith isn’t from this world. All he cares about is stopping me. He used you, and I’m sorry for that, but here we stand, in an old warehouse with a fancy office, talking about how to undo what he’s done. We have one chance. If I fail, it’s not going to be good. So you have to get me into the World Security Summit tomorrow. I need to speak.”

  He stared. Blinked. “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “I see what you think, yes. But it’s not that simple.” He glanced at Karen, worried. If I could still read minds, I would have an advantage, but that was gone. “Vlad visited me today. He’s outraged. I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “I don’t think you understand the gravity of our situation,” Thomas said, stepping forward. He spread his arms. “Who do you see?”

  “I see someone who looks like Thomas Hunter.”

  “But can’t be, because I’m dead, right? And yet here I am.” He lowered his arms. “Which means that everything you know about life and death is turned on its head. Are we standing on some mount of transfiguration? Are the dead really dead? What’s really happening beyond this temporary existence? All the metaphors used by ancient writers point to a truth that’s beyond the human capacity to grasp. There are things Vlad doesn’t want you to know because he is the Shadow of Death. Will you play to him, or will you play to us? It’s the only question you should ask yourself.”

  My confidence soared. I had Thomas Hunter by my side!

  “All of this is diabolical!”

  Thomas eyed him. “You’re a religious man?”

  “Of course I am.” The president crossed to the desk. “But I didn’t come here to discuss theology.” He eased into the chair, leaned back, and faced us, a man now clearly in charge.

  “I accepted my role as president to return this country to its former glory, and I intend to do that. Our economy is falling apart, our politics have become a bloodbath, millions are suffering in squalor while the rich thrive. I’m going to put an end to it, and if that means making some deals along the way, so be it. Maybe I miscalculated Vlad, but I can assure you of one thing. Remove my administration from office and this whole country is going to fall apart. Every algorithm we’ve run gives us no more than five years. So I’ll ask you the same question you asked me. Will you play to Vlad, or will you play to me? If you insist on exposing Vlad, you also expose me, and the country needs me.”

  He’d flipped the conversation, dismissing love in favor of doing practical good. He didn’t understand that all practical good was useless if it was done in the energy of fear rather than in the energy of love.

  “You can’t solve any problem on the same level of consciousness that created it,” I said. “You can’t fix fear with fear.”

  “Stop with the New Age nonsense! I’m a devout man of God. I don’t need you preaching at me.”

  “New Age?” Thomas asked.

  “It’s another form of religion seeking to serve itself,” I told him. To the president: “What matters is our transformation through the renewing of our minds. Like being born all over again into a new operating system beyond the earthen vessel. Yeshua called that operating system the kingdom of heaven.”

  “Now you’re spouting Gnostic crap. None of this matters to me. I’m trying to do some practical good, for the love of God. Surely you can see that.”

  “Gnostic?” Thomas asked.

  I turned to him. “It’s the belief that form is evil or inconsequential because we are spirit. A half-truth.”

  But even as I spoke I realized how impossible it would be to share the truth with anyone like the president, who had invested so much in his identity as a righteous man who knew more than others.

  And I was supposed to speak truth to a whole gathering of such men and women at the summit? I should be taking the truth to the outcasts, like Maya and Soromi. Only those in suffering would have ears to hear, I thought. The rest had too much to lose.

  My fingers tingled with a surge of adrenaline. Who was I to do this?

  “I’d like to make you an offer,” the president was saying.

  Thomas held his eyes. “An offer?”

  “Go away. Vanish. I’ll give you both new identities and kill the story of your involvement in the bombings, Rachelle. I’ll also make sure you get to wherever you want to go with ten million dollars in whatever form of untraceable payment you choose. Live peacefully on a beach in the South Pacific, or disappear in the mountains of Nepal for all I care.”

  Ten million dollars? Was that what thirty pieces of silver looked like these days?

  Karen spoke for the first time. “You do realize that he’ll come unglued.” Meaning Vlad. There was fear in her voice. She’d seen him work up close. “He’s not human! He’ll see right through it.”

  The president lifted a hand to stop her. “I realize that, Karen, but it’s either that or play his game on his terms. I’ve already done that, and it’s a fool’s game. His interest isn’t us, it’s her. This whole 49th Mystic madness threatens the only thing that can save this country! The only shot we have is to remove her from the playing field entirely.”

  “He’ll crush us!”

  “Maybe. Or maybe we recover. We’ve done it before.” Eyes on me. “The only thing he wants is for you to speak at the summit tomorrow. I’m supposed to pretend I don’t want you there and then make sure you are. Instead, get on a plane tonight. Vanish.”

  Vlad, at the summit? That coil of anxiety was tightening around my chest. My plan was actually Vlad’s plan! He was still a step ahead of me. Panic lapped at my mind.

  “Ten million dollars will get you a long way,” the president said.

  I moved in a blur, without thought, two steps toward the desk, leaping over him and twisting so I landed at his back, a
rm around his throat.

  “Do I strike you as the kind of person who cares about ten million dollars?” I breathed into his ear.

  The remaining Secret Service man was only now grabbing for his gun. It had just cleared his jacket when Thomas snatched it from his hand as if it were a toy. He ejected the clip and tossed the weapon back to the man.

  Then he winked at me and I caught myself.

  I released my grip and stood upright. “Sorry about that,” I said, stepping back around the desk. “I’ve been under a little stress lately.” I turned back to him, sitting there in shock. “As you can see, Vlad’s not the only one with power. I could easily kidnap you or kill you or hunt you down. Especially if I had ten million dollars.”

  I let that sink in.

  “But I wouldn’t even dream of it. That’s the difference between Vlad and me. He uses fear, I’m trying to use love. So maybe you should work with me.”

  He responded after a long hesitation. “And what would that look like?”

  “Usher me into the summit tomorrow. Let me speak. I won’t implicate you, I’ll only state my case plainly, exposing Vlad. The world has to know about him. It’s the only thing I ask.”

  “And Vlad?”

  “Tell him I took you up on your offer to run. Tell him I’m headed to the United Nations to expose him. Tell him we met and I attacked you and your man killed me. Tell him whatever you want, just make sure he’s not at the summit. Buy me that time. When I say what I have to say, I think the world will look at everything differently.”

  “Trust her,” Thomas said. “Trust her because I’m standing here and I’m dead. That should be all the evidence you need.”

  “Her,” the president said, recovering. “Not you.”

  “It’s her place to go to the summit, not mine.”

  I turned to him. “What? You should be with me!”

  “No, 49th,” he said in a gentle, reassuring voice. “This is yours alone to do. Trust me.”

  Fear tempted me again. That was another thing that worried me: I was still feeling fear, even after gaining the Fourth Seal. Even though I thought I’d surrendered. There was no fear in love, so did that mean I wasn’t in love? What if I was in fear when I tried to speak at the summit?