Chapter Seventeen: Faith.

Blair forcefully swung the ring down onto the dark metal knock plate and a dull clang hung in the air. I stared at the stone door, willing it to open. There was no keyhole, visible hinge, or s.p.a.ce at the threshold. It was completely blank and devoid of clues or weakness, and there was little to distract us from the mounting anxiety and trepidation. We all presumed the severity of a wrong decision would be a fatal error and we waited, barely breathing, for our knock of faith to ring true or bring a bitter end.

Each second seemed to be marked by more sweat beading up on Patrick's brow and Blair kept her eyes fixed upward, her lips moving as she mouthed a prayer. Reid rested his hand on my shoulder, and the seconds dragged as the air around us grew heavy with unknowing. Patrick glanced at me, the flame in his hand flickering with nervousness, and I held up my hand as a signal to bide. We would endure it. Patrick was cracking under the pressure of the smothering silence and I watched him carefully in my peripheral vision, ready to block an impulsive move.

Finally, there was a faint jingle above us in the darkness, and I exhaled. My shoulders relaxed while bits of earth and dust sprinkled onto our heads. The bell had not moved in a long time, if ever, I thought to myself.

"And, the bell had a strike note of C major," Reid whispered in agreement from behind me. He gave my shoulder a slight squeeze. We were all relieved by the Cloccan message. I managed a nod but couldn't help wondering why hadn't the door unlocked?

"It's also a good sign that we haven't been dumped into the pit full of bones," Patrick added to Reid's whispered comment. Patrick wiped the sheen of sweat off his forehead and his eyes focused on the skeletal remains. "Anyone else wondering how they ended up like that? Wait. Don't tell me if you know, Whitney. I was just thinking out loud. Better not to know. Try the other knocker, Blair. Maybe that one is broken."

Patrick was cracking under the pressure of limbo. I reminded myself that he did not have martial arts training and it showed in a test of mental discipline. Blair gave me an uneasy glance at Patrick's suggestion that we backtrack on the knocker decision, and I signaled her to wait. Blair took a deep breath and smoothly gave Patrick a task to settle his nerves. "Patrick, my boot is untied. Can you move the light? I want to be ready when the door opens."

Bosco had taught me that a person could survive only three seconds without spirit and hope, and despair was the fastest path to death. Blair had wisely refocused Patrick off the skeletons and created an opportunity for him to do something that would not get us all killed. I gave her a smile. The expectation of success was a crucial survival skill in all levels of adversity.

Our face-off with the door was interrupted by the crackle of gravel. The sound of small rocks being crushed by a tremendous weight was coming from the start of the bell pa.s.sage and I was regretting my prior resentment of the silence. I tried to turn around to get a better view of the avalanche but Reid's hand on my shoulder pulled me against him. The noise stopped with a crashing boom of heavy permanence. A large boulder had closed the pa.s.sage opening and we could no longer leave the way we came.

"OK. That is NOT a good sign. Whitney, we picked the wrong knocker. You've got to try the other one," Patrick pleaded. "Maybe there is still time to fix it. We are all going to suffocate or starve in here. We don't even have the backpack. I guess we will die of thirst before we starve, right? That's how it works?" Patrick was sweating profusely and starting to hyperventilate.

Blair blocked his view of the sealed entrance and shook him by the shoulders. "Patrick. Calm down. You are going to have to have some faith in Whitney or you will get us all killed."

I was grateful Blair took on Patrick so I could work to control my claustrophobia. The final boulder and Patrick's comments made my clothes feel too tight. Reid let go of my shoulder with a look of concern. I slowed my breathing and talked myself through claustrophobia's suffocating grip of panic. As field commander, I would not make a choice based on doubt or fear. We would maintain our position and hold it, for better or worse. "Stay on the platform. Do not touch anything else," I said as I focused on a b.u.t.ton on my shirt and blocked the punches of fear that we would not have enough air to breathe.

Several more seconds trudged by in silence until there was a click from deep inside the stone door. Blair pressed down on the latch and the door opened. Inside, I could see a tight corridor chiseled through the rock. Grateful for progress, I ignored the stifling proportions of the s.p.a.ce and filed behind Patrick and Blair. It was a brief antechamber connection to an incredible and soaring cavern.

Inside, the enormous s.p.a.ce had walls of gleaming ruby-red cinnabar with a wide band of gold that wrapped around the lower half of the dome engraved with the Latin words Tempus Ad Lucem Ducit Veritatem. A phrase I knew well since it was the one on the Wallace family sundial and a phrase I kept muttering when I would pa.s.s out from my syncope.

"Awesome. This is incredible! Reid, what does that say?" Blair pointed to the engraving with her finger. In front of us was a lake of liquid mercury and at its center was an island of jagged rock. The Spear of Light stood in the middle of the island, and tethered by a golden thread to the spear was an ivory boat carved like a crane. The light from Patrick's hand reflected on the lake of liquid mercury like an endless mirror, the small flame managing to illuminate the entire s.p.a.ce. I looked up and saw the dome roof with constellations designed across the top.

Reid's eyes were wide with an expression of wonder as he followed Blair's finger and answered, "It says, *Time brings truth to light,' and is inscribed on a sundial that has been in the possession of a member of our family for centuries. It is part of a prophecy that says that old alliances will be repaired at the dawning of a new age."

I had no idea the sundial was so old or that there was any significance to where Dr. West hid the computer disk. The sundial had called to me and I had acted on instinct.

Reid continued to turn around as if he did not believe the domed s.p.a.ce was real. I drifted into his mind and saw this was not the first time Reid had been here. How was that possible? I gave him a perplexed look and he explained. "Sorry, I'm beyond astounded the Cloccan cinnabar grotto actually exists. This was my favorite story as a child. It is exactly how I pictured it. I originally thought that was the reason my grandfather had given me the sundial for my sixteenth birthday, because he knew how much I loved the story. That's why I was so interested when you walked right to it the first time you came to my house and where you went the night you found the computer disk."

"Someone told you a story about this place?" I asked, hoping maybe he knew where the exit was hidden or a Cloccan version of "Open sesame."

"Yeah. My mom told me stories about the Cloccan cinnabar grotto and the silver lake all the time. She changed it around but there was always a girl who could dance across the lake and rescue the treasure. When I was a kid, she used to hide a treasure on the deserted island in the middle of the Potomac for me when I would go for my long swims to work out my excess energy. It was something I looked forward to, to break up the distance. I was going to show you the old treasure chest she used the time we anch.o.r.ed off its banks to see if you recognized it. Instead, I ended up being deserted as you swam back to the boat."

I c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at him. That was not exactly how I remembered the day. "Why would I have recognized an old chest of your mom's?"

"Because inside the chest there was a drawing of you in it. That's how I recognized you immediately when Admiral Bennett showed me your file. When you were joking about finding the treasure on the island, I thought you were wondering if I knew I was carrying the treasure on my back at the time." Reid was telling me the truth. His honesty rang as clear as the bell we had heard in the pa.s.sage.

"No, I don't know anything about the chest," I mumbled. It was a lot to take in because it did not fit with my impression and experience at the time, but I had to figure it out later. Mrs. Wallace was not precognitive and I had a feeling she did not know about the drawing, so someone else must have put it there.

"Your mom's stories sound a lot like Mr. Parks' tale of Princess Magu. She lived in a cinnabar cloud grotto and he said she could walk upon water in special dancing slippers," Blair said with a smile. When we were much younger, Mr. Parks' stories at the end of our practices were Blair's favorite part. "Remember, Whit?"

I nodded, and remembered that Magu was a child of the Way who was fated to be special. Her right to immortality had to be won through a series of trials that tested her character because trust by the immortals was earned, not given. In the end, it was her selflessness that proved she was worthy to pa.s.s from this world into an eternal one.

"Yes," I agreed. "She was called Magu, the Liberator. She could not stand suffering because she had died a cruel death and she freed people from darkness with a fantastic light. It does sound similar to Reid's story since she lived in a cinnabar grotto and used shoes to cross the silver-tipped waves." The story had made an impression on me because it was one of the few Mr. Parks had told us with a heroine. A HER story, I corrected myself, and then realized I had repeated the words he had used to describe the light she used for freedom. He specifically called it a "fantastic light" and the waves were "silver-tipped." Mr. Parks' choices were never accidental. I started to think about what else Mr. Parks had done to prepare me for this moment when Patrick held up his hand and spotlighted a pair of dangling shoes.

Upon closer inspection, I saw the gold slippers were embroidered with white cranes and hung by a short gold thread from the wall. I had seen them before-in Mr. Parks' mind. They were the shoes Chen Parks wore as she and Mr. Parks danced their last dance before she died. These slippers were a message from him that they were meant for me. Patrick tried to pull the slippers down from the golden thread but they wouldn't budge. He pulled harder to no avail. The thread was thin but strong.

"Patrick, that is Cloccan thread and it the same kind that was used to make the golden ladders. Each strand is as strong as steel and will never rust. Only a Cloccan blade can cut it, nothing else. Our backpack is gone and with it my Cloccan Swiss Army Knife. Not that I put a lot of stock in fairy tales anyway, but we will have to find another way across," Reid said as he walked toward the edge of the lake. There was relief in his face. He was content the shoes could not be used but I did not know what else he thought was waiting for us. There were no boulders or sticks on the glossy red sh.o.r.e and the smooth polish of the cinnabar walls meant we could not get any purchase to break it. Reid was looking for a tool that was not there.

The dagger I had taken from Lucie's mouth was in my wool sock and I quickly pulled it out to cut the thread. The slippers floated lightly into my hands; they were as soft as feathers. Wordlessly, I sat down and started to undo my hiking boots.

"Dy-no-mite. I totally forgot you had that," Patrick muttered as he held his glowing hand over my feet. My hands worked fast to pull the red laces loose as I suddenly felt I was running out of time. I didn't know why but I had to get to the spear by noon. It was tied to our window of opportunity to escape and everything was riding on it.

"Good thing I didn't," I answered Patrick, and gave him a sarcastic grin. The small knife fit neatly against my leg and the handle was easy to hold. I had grown attached to it and I tucked it into my pocket. "Thanks for the extra light. The faster I can get these on the better." I hefted off my hiking boots and peeled off my wool socks. The slippers were warm and smooth around my feet. It almost felt like they were not there at all. I stood up and could not resist the urge to spin around.

My spin caught Reid's attention. He rapidly shook his head in disapproval from the sh.o.r.e of the lake and marched back toward Patrick and me.

"NO WAY, Whitney. It's too dangerous. That is liquid mercury-not water. If you are wrong, it's over," Reid stormed. His eyes flashed and I knew he was ready for the battle. A crane does not start a fight, a crane only finishes them, I thought to myself, and he was prepared to win. As a panther, I would need a different strategy and do the unexpected. A fight was not the way. He was my guardian and afraid for me to go alone. I could combat this by taking him with me.

"Reid, there is no OTHER way. You know I would not pick dancing for the fun of it. I'm certainly not that good at it! That's why we have to dance across the lake together. You know, the whole *together we are better' thing? It is what Mr. Parks has been training us to do. Dancing in rhythm is how we trip the light fantastic," I said matter-of-factly. I would try to reason with him through logic. He was definitely not expecting that from me.

"The light fantastic? You think that is what Mr. Parks meant by Magu's fantastic light?" Blair asked. She knotted the laces of my hiking boots together and put them on her shoulder.

"Exactly. He used it with this story and then when Reid and I were dancing he said we had tripped the light fantastic. It is such an unusual saying that it stuck in my mind. I know I am not wrong about this," I hurriedly explained. I looked at Reid's watch and saw we had eight minutes until noon.

"Whitney. There are things that you don't know. The girl who dances across the lake from my mom's stories is a ghost but she does not know it. And in the prophecy of the sundial, it says time moves through her and her ghost never fades. Fortunately, you are very much alive and I want to keep it that way. I think we should try to find another answer," Reid pushed back. Something about what he said made the opening synthesizer of one of my favorite songs start to play in my mind. Some of the words from the prophecy were in the song "The Ghost in You." How could that be? Were The Psychedelic Furs Cloccan? That was ridiculous, but the ticking of the music was getting louder and louder in my head.

"Well, according to Tiembo, we are all ghosts already and we will be soon enough if we do nothing. What you just said-could part of this prophecy be in a song? The Psychedelic Furs have a song and they sing about a ghost in you and time moving. Never mind. You don't know what I'm talking about." I could hardly talk, the music was playing so loud in my head. It was a strange coincidence. Maybe there was a clue in the song.

Reid wore a smug expression and retorted, "Can't say that I do and I can't dance to a song when I don't know how it goes."

Blair walked up and interjected, "Whit, *The Ghost in You' is such a cool love song. I can't believe you don't know it, Reid. That's what happens when you listen to cla.s.sic rock-you can't stay current. He can hear it in your mind. Why don't you try that?"

"Excellent point, Blair. It is such a cool love song. I'm surprised John Hughes hasn't snapped it up for one of his film soundtracks," I agreed. We looked at each other as if we shared a secret and Reid was missing out. Blair started to sing a few bars and I said, "Yeah, doesn't the middle of the song sound a lot like what Reid said a moment ago? Isn't that weird? Maybe they heard the same Cloccan story and set it to music," I baited. Reid gave me a curious look and Blair saw it.

"Reid, you have nothing to lose. The guy leads. If you don't fly in these magic slippers then you won't go over the lake," Blair said with a shrug. "Did I miss the helicopter with rocket launchers to blast through the dome roof? We don't have much else going for us."

I walked a step closer to Reid and felt the pull strengthen between us. "When I dance with you, it is like I am flying...but better. My trouble is coming back down and controlling the direction. That's why I need you to help me. Listen to the song in my mind. If it works, it works." I felt like my heart was exposed by telling him how much I needed him, and it was even harder for me to hold out my hand and hope he would not leave me hanging there, but I did it.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me close to him. "I can tell when I am outnumbered," he sighed and he easily crossed into my mind into the music that was playing. Reid moved us through the sound and I let go of everything except the sensation of colors morphing together and climbing higher into the s.p.a.ce of the sound.

After a minute or two, my eyes opened as my feet touched something hard and jagged through the thin slippers. We had made it to the rocky island in the center of the lake. It was bright on the island and I looked up to see the roof of the dome had an oculus that had started to open while we were dancing. From the island, the architectural elements of the room and the noon hour came together like pieces of a puzzle. It was a giant sundial.

Mr. Parks always told me timing was everything, and I realized there were a few precious minutes before the heat of the sun would melt all of the cinnabar sh.o.r.e of the quicksilver lake. That was the face of the sundial-a silver circle that would act as an enormous mirror. The mirror was a tool to use just like in the sparring match Mr. Parks had set up with Reid, and I needed to use it to our advantage. Everything around us was a tool to get out of here.

I pulled out the dagger from my pocket and used it to cut the thread to the boat. Reid had to get into the boat and get to Blair and Patrick before the sh.o.r.eline melted and the lake rose to the gold band that would encircle the sundial. "Patrick, use your hands to generate static electricity!" I yelled across the lake. "Reid, you and Patrick can form an electromagnet like the one that attracted you in Chern.o.byl. Get in the boat and let the electromagnetic pull drag you quickly cross the lake. It's the only way to get to them in time," I directed. I was turning the boat toward Patrick and Blair, who were waiting on the polished red sh.o.r.e of stone.

"I'm not leaving you, Whitney. You know that," Reid said. His eyes were intense and unyielding.

"I am not telling you to leave me. I am ordering you as your field leader to rescue our friends," I said with rigid authority. This was another battle I did not have time to fight or lose so I looked to win it another way. I grabbed onto the shaft of the spear and it held firmly in place, cemented into the rock. "The Spear of Light will always find and protect its rightful owner-that's the prophecy, isn't it? Nothing can happen to me while I've got the spear in my hand. GO."

Reid had heard that part of the prophecy and he did not argue. He climbed into the beautiful boat of delicately carved ivory. The bow was the fragile head of a crane and the sides of the boat were its wings in flight. I shoved the boat toward Patrick and Blair and it sped across the water.

The oculus widened further and the sunlight became more intense. The lake of liquid mercury began bubbling from the heat and the volume of the liquid increased more and more with each second. Reid reached Blair and Patrick, and they climbed into the boat as the sh.o.r.e dissolved. The liquid mercury level would soon be underneath the gold band that said "Time brings truth to light." The dial face was almost in place.

The boat bobbed through the bubbling waters. The wide wings of the crane protected Blair, Patrick, and Reid from getting sprayed by the boiling metal. A staircase and a small pier materialized out of the wall and the boat automatically docked itself into the slip. It was the obvious escape out of the cinnabar grotto and I questioned if I had made the right choice remaining behind.

Reid, Blair, and Patrick stood on the pier trying to free the boat stuck in the slip. It would not budge. "GO!" I yelled and pointed to the stairs. I was directly across from them on the island and holding onto the spear. Together, the spear and I made the gnomon, the upright part of the sundial that casts the shadow to reveal the time. I was exactly where I was supposed to be and I accepted it. Reid, Blair, and Patrick needed to get out of the cavern before noon.

Reid burst into my mind and I showed him the only option left. They had to get out through the oculus and find a way to send a rope down to me before the dome closed again. He sprinted up the stairs with Blair and Patrick behind him. The oculus opened further and the entire top of the dome retracted. It was noon. Suddenly, the spear wiggled in the rock and I pulled it free.

The spear was not as big as I expected. Holding it next to me, it only came up to my shoulder. Its wooden shaft was smooth except for spiral markings designed to help its grip. I brought the blade close and read the words, "From Darkness, Light."

Mr. Parks said Magu destroyed an evil curse by launching a fantastic light into the sky and ending an ancient curse that set thousands of unseen people free. At the time, I thought Mr. Parks meant to say people who did not exist but he had shown me his word choice was deliberate. I recognized "zeru," albino, and even the ghost in the song in my head were real people who did not fade because they were alive. He wanted me to repeat the actions of Magu, to fly across the lake and create a bright light to free the spear and the albino people from the curse of persecution. Mr. Parks had shaped the story of Magu the Liberator to use as a tool. Her selfless acts had granted her immortality because she ended suffering. In Reid's version of the story, she had already died but in my story, HER story, she could live forever through her choices and actions.

The sun's rays reflected off the mercurial lake below and turned everything to a fantastic and brilliant white light. It was so bright, the light shone through my closed eyelids. From somewhere on the rim of the oculus, Reid shouted my name. I had been blind and looking for him before and when I went into his mind I was unprepared to be so amazed.

Reid was standing on the highest peak of the escarpment. The daylight around him seemed dim in comparison to the eruption of light connecting the earth and the sun from the hole in the cliff that formed the oculus. In his hand was a gold Cloccan rope, the end of which he threw down to me. Finding it by touch was the only option since a misstep on the jagged island meant a fall into the boiling lake. I went back into my own mind and swung the spear until I hit the rope. Then I used the spear to guide the rope toward me and looped it around my wrist. It was not lost on me that the rope created a long minute hand from the center of the dial face and it gave me Reid's position.

I leaned back and looked up into the full beam of the sun. Then, using all my might, I threw the spear into the light. I had faith the Spear of Light would find and protect its rightful owner, for the spear did not belong to me. Intuitively, I had known all along it was Cloccan.

Chapter Eighteen: Elevation.

The golden rope constricted around my wrist like a metallic python and my feet left the ground before I could adjust my grip. The pressure on my shoulder socket burned and I pushed the pain out of my mind. I reminded myself that pain was mental and, as long as a chance remained, I allowed myself to hope.

My express trip to the top slowed as the roof began to close. The dome's movement reduced some of the intense glare and for the first time I could see two large metal hooks on either side of the closing oculus. I comprehended it was part of a locking mechanism and would make an escape or rescue even more difficult. I tried to steady myself and control my escalating heart rate as Reid crossed into my mind to gain a sense of my position. I showed him the huge hooks and my distance from the top while I swung like a pendulum through the air.

Nothing happened, and I dangled uneasily on the end of the rope. I did not like the sensation something desperate was about to happen. I tried to cross over into Reid's mind to see what they were doing and was furious to find he had blocked me out. Angry and terrified that he might gamble his safety, I banged against his third eye with ferocious determination. He was ready for me and fought hard to keep it shut. Through the fading static, I caught a glimpse of the rope being wrapped around someone else. NO! I shouted into his mind but to no avail. Reid raised his cinnabar shield against me and I was shut out.

A shadow crossed the top of the oculus and I knew someone was standing precariously close to the rim. The shadow was near the hook that would lock the oculus, and the only other person who knew about the hook was Reid. I could feel the rope being pulled in the direction of the hook and my stomach clenched as I thought about what a hook and rope would create.

"REID! Do NOT come down here! That's a direct order! I AM STILL FIELD COMMANDER!" I shouted at the top of my lungs in desperation. I had no way to override his crane instinct and the phrase that he would do whatever it took to win a fight orbited around in my mind.

The rope lifted and I cursed as he patently ignored me. Rest.i.tution did not matter to someone who did not plan to be around for the repercussions of my anger or the reprimand of Sunrise. He had neutralized me with a lack of information except I remembered I was not completely without recourse. I had the dagger and I could feel it deep in the pocket on the same side as my tangled hand. If I could reach it and cut myself free, all of this would be irrelevant.

Every field commander has to make tough decisions, and the best solution in a bad situation was that it was better to lose one life instead of two. Dr. West's statues on the scavenger hunt depicted the art of war as sacrifice and valor. I was brave enough to cut the rope, and I let go with my free hand to reach around my torso to grab the dagger in my pocket.

The burn in my shoulder from the violent jerk of the rope made my clever plan impossible to implement as I found myself rocketing to the top of the oculus. His construction of a simple pulley worked first. I wanted to scream in a futile attempt to stop time but as I opened my mouth I reflexively sucked in air. I saw the blur of someone bigger and heavier than me go by on the other end of the rope as we traded gravitational places. An instant later, my head slammed into a pair of strong hands braced to slow my speed inches in front of the large metal hook.

I looked up, expecting to see Patrick's blue eyes and sun-streaked hair, and my brain almost short-circuited to see Reid's face instead. My eyes widened in surprise and I was overcome with relief and then swamped by panic. If he did not jump into the oculus, who did?

Reid immediately grabbed back onto the rope and gritted through his teeth, "Whitney, give us your other hand." Sweat started to pour off his face as he used every ounce of his strength to hold the rope. Giving him my hand would balance some of my weight and allow him to untangle my arm from the rope. There was an outstretched hand next to my head. That's when I looked up and my eyes found Patrick's s.h.a.ggy curls and blue eyes. He was lying down on the oculus roof reaching in to grab me.

I went cold from the horrible realization that Blair was missing. "Blair?" I choked. Patrick was close enough to me to see the look of shock on my face. He understood I realized what had happened but did not know who jumped.

"Blair's here, Whitney. She's right behind me. Give me your hand," Patrick coaxed as the roof of the oculus moved together again. It jostled my position and reminded me I had to help them help me. I held up my hand and Patrick latched onto my entire forearm. I was not going anywhere without Patrick.

The redistribution of weight gave Reid enough slack to uncoil the golden rope from my other arm. As soon as I was free, Patrick heaved me up onto the gritty sandstone roof but Reid kept holding the rope. This confirmed my worst fear that someone was attached to the other end of it.

I had figured out the oculus was closing on fifteen-second intervals. At best, it was a long shot to hoist someone up through the opening in time.

"Who is it down there?" I demanded from Reid. As I asked the question, the face that woke me up this morning came floating back into my mind.

It gave me a second to prepare before Reid answered, "Vlad Dune. He was waiting for us at the top of the stairs. He had the Cloccan rope and threw it down to you when he realized you were not with us." Reid paused to reposition himself and to take a breath. It was enough time for me to think there had to be more of an explanation.

As if he was reading my mind, Reid continued, "Vlad told us he was Marlin Steele's brother and he needed to get you out to restore his family dignity. He had taken an oath never to block the Light Bringer's Way and he did not want you to waste the gift of Marlin's sight. I didn't have much time to discuss this with him, Whit, and I definitely wasn't going to give you a chance to shoot it down. It was our best chance to get you out so I took it."

I had told Reid at the Lucie statue in the shrine of the elephants that dignity was life's rightful end. As we heaved on the rope, I took the liberty to cross over into Vlad's mind. Through his early memories I could make out that Marlin and Vlad were both the sons of the Dogon astronomer. Marlin and his father had the gift of special eyesight that helped them maintain the traps protecting the Spear of Light until its rightful owner returned. They called this path the Light Bringer's Way.

One day, Marlin and Vlad were working in the observatory and some local men came for Vlad. Marlin was not big enough to fight them and they took Vlad away from the village. It was the last time Vlad heard his real name, when Marlin yelled, "Mannie, come back!"

The next memory was of Vlad looking through the files in Dr. West's office and discovering a file labeled Mamadou "Mannie" Steele. It was empty except for a VHS tape of Marlin telling Vlad he had come to America looking for him and to work on the Clarion project to ensure the liberation of the spear and to end the ghost curse. He asked for Vlad to understand that his precognitive abilities showed him he had to give his eyesight to a young girl, Whitney Forbes, in hopes no child or albino person would be hunted again. This Light Bringer had to succeed where others failed. Feeling robbed and cheated of the only person Vlad ever cared about, he took his revenge by sending me the cookie basket after seeing my RAST blood test results. It was not until he discovered I survived that he decided perhaps Marlin was right and maybe Whitney Forbes could defy the odds.

The rest of his mind was cluttered with the atrocious images of hate from the Thunderbird Program after Vlad a.s.sumed control. These were acts of power and brutality that never made him feel whole and became mindless and uncontrolled violence. The memory he had buried the deepest was the one of Chen Parks hanging with eerie grace in her cell. He had not expected it and could never reconcile his blame in her death. The final image I saw was of Yoshi Parks breaking his hand through the bars in agony through Vlad's eyes.

"He isn't going to make it," Blair said, looking at her watch. She had also figured out the intervals. The oculus was about to move closer again and no man would be able to fit through the hole. Even if we managed to get him up to the top, there was nothing we could do to get him out.

Reid looked at me and said, "He wanted you to cut him free with the dagger, Whitney. Somehow, he knew you would have it. He said the Light Bringer does not fear death but cannot bear suffering. If you do not see fit to cut the rope, he said he would understand. He does not believe he deserves mercy."

I thought about when I was rocketing to the top of the oculus without warning. There was nothing but motion and reaction and my brain blocked out everything else. Given the choice, I would take it over trying to figure out how to end my own life. That was a level of psychological despair I would not wish on my worst enemy. Without a word to anyone, I pulled the dagger with the black handle out of my pocket and sliced the rope.

There was no sound from the oculus as he fell. Reid, Patrick, and Blair were still holding the rope, dumbfounded as I fortified the seal of my third eye shut and walked away. I was given two bad choices and I took the one that would be the hardest for myself and the least detrimental for someone else. It was cold comfort. The responsibility for the choice was mine and it was done.

Numbly, I went toward the ridge of the dome to see the expanse of desert and horizon. I wanted to be alone. The ground started to shake like an earthquake as I approached the edge, and in front of me at least 10,000 people and hundreds of elephants were stomping their feet. The vibration was intense. There was a mighty roar from the crowd and the trumpeting of elephants as I appeared at the edge of the ridge. I could not take my eyes away from the ma.s.s of people or the magnificent elephants because I was wonder-struck that the ghost army existed. The people were all African albinos and the elephants were all white. They were cheering because the light from the sky...it freed them from the curse of persecution. I fell to my knees.

My eyes refocused on the plane's wood laminate table and I attempted to tune back into the conversation. "...afraid she was going to fall. By the time I reached her, Tiembo had her standing back up and was waving her hand to the crowd. No, he did not know what happened to Vlad. Trust me, it was what he wanted. He said he wanted to know he had done one good act to elevate his character or else he would be ashamed to meet Marlin in the next life. Yeah, I know it was hard for Whitney but she feels OK about it knowing it was what he wanted and to be able to free all those people from hiding. The noise was tremendous. Apparently, the light from the oculus and the spear was the spirit of the Nommo returning back to Sirius." Reid's voice rumbled through the cold air blowing from the air vents in the jet. I fought to listen to the conversation but was not doing a good job. My head kept lolling to the right in search of a pillow that was not there.

Diana's voice could not hide her admiration as she said, "It was quite a sight. We couldn't have missed it-the entire village seemed to be yelling about the Nommo being set free and everyone ran outside. I'm amazed by the ingenuity of the liquid mercury to create a reflective lens that size to make it all happen. Masterful engineering." Diana was on the verge of being giddy. Her eyes shone with excitement listening to Reid. I was a stark contrast and had to fight to keep my eyes open. Exhaustion and the painkillers Dr. West gave me for my shoulder kept luring my mind into sleep.

We were debriefing Mr. Parks, Helga, Dr. West, and Diana on the plane back home. I deferred to Reid to do most of the talking and as he went on to describe returning to the village on the backs of the white elephants, I could hardly process that it had happened only a few hours ago.

Once Reid, Blair, and Patrick joined Tiembo and me, we all went down to the base of the cliff. An African woman with albinism came forward and greeted us. She said her name was Sabina and she had straw-colored hair cut short and close to her head. Her blue eyes were like Vlad's. She introduced herself as the matriarch of the tribe of over 15,000 people living with albinism. She explained how her nephew, Mannie Steele, had returned to her village and told them the hour they had been waiting for had arrived and it was time to be free because the Light Bringer's Way was going to be completed.

Sabina's skin was caramel-colored and her hand was warm and soft. "We have been waiting for the foretold blinding light during the noonday sun to come and free my people from suffering seclusion, stigmatization, mutilation, and death. All could see the healing light of the Nommo has gone back to Sirius where it belongs and that it no longer dwells here on Earth in the mortal form of my people. You have released us from a horrible curse and we are free to be seen as human beings again. Starting now, we can live with dignity under the same sun. Asante."

I hadn't needed Reid to translate the Swahili word for "thank you" and I murmured it back to Sabina for her kind words. I would never feel good about cutting the rope to let Vlad fall, but Sabina reminded me of his choice for dignity and honor. It made it tolerable somehow. She seemed to understand that I knew how relieved she felt that people would no longer be unseen or only targeted.

We were to lead the processional back into the village. Ana was the regal white elephant waiting to give us a ride. The white elephants were not really white; they were actually more of a ruddy pink. And, like most albino animals, they benefited from sun protection so each animal was covered in tribal fabrics across their backs. Ana's keen intelligence was obvious in her eyes and she looked visibly pleased as we approached. Reid went right up to her and began speaking to her in a low whisper. I wondered if I imagined that she tipped her head in response.

On the ride back to the village, we swayed gracefully in the carriage on Ana's back. I listened as Reid told me some of the reasons the Cloccans recognize the elephant as one of its sacred animals. He explained that elephants form tight-knit, matriarchal families and these ties are so strong, elephant families can only be separated by death or capture. Incredibly, they are the only animal on earth other than humans known to grieve their dead and the loss of a member of their family. Separating elephants from their family is emotionally harmful to the elephant, and countries that keep white elephants for good luck are misguided because it is bad karma. Those who want good karma must keep elephant families together and not allow these peaceful giants to be hunted.