Chlorine Halos

Villains

Stunned by the name, I dropped the two pieces of the shard, which sounded a heavy thump against the workshop's floor; however, the thick layer of sawdust kept it from shattering into anymore pieces.

"Mike. He was trying to find Mike," I said in blank disbelief.

"Avian, what are you talking about?" Jasper asked, shaking his head while bending to pick up the invaluable pieces.

"The person my father was trying to find was Nicholas Michaels," I replied, hoping the verbal thoughts would gel to form answers. "He was one of my best friends."

Jasper turned his head slightly, not breaking his stare with me. "One of your best friends? When you were a child?" I nodded with an insistence. "Listen to me. That's just not possible. Your father would not have been threatened by a child." He placed the shard back in its oval-shaped metal case and leaned against the dark finished desk with his hands. "In his frenzy, he mentioned a Nicholas Michaels, so I ran it through all report archives. You need to believe me when I say that person does not exist."

"So, you're saying this is all in my imagination?" I asked with discouragement. "I dreamt up the same person my father happened to be searching for?"

Jasper sighed, seeing the defeat run down my face. "There's a way we can find out."

I followed him out of the shop and back into the mind-twisting Escheron. Scaling walls, ceilings, and staircases with the touch of a penrose was slowly becoming easier.

"You're a quick study," Jasper said with a grin. "Maestro doesn't like to admit it, but he was on his ass for a week when he first got here." 

We continued on to the twelfth level, moving underneath an archway built with a chiseled granite, much different than the spotted black granite walls of the Escheron. This rock had a calming, flaked pattern of several shades of blue. The archway opened into a white pentagonal room. In each corner, a column of the same serene blue rock stood, holding the translucent ceiling which lessened the intensity of the specks of bright light above it. Surrounding every column, bronze pedestals in the shape of a stretched spring were arranged—some topped with a penrose; however, these orbs were not illuminated. At the center of this room, a delicately carved fountain filled the space with its soothing trickling sound. Jasper sat on the knee-high wall encircling the elegant fountain.

"I want you to choose a penrose," he said, looking around the room. "You will know the right choice."

I began walking to every column, examining with my eyes each penrose. Even though none radiated with a glow, I was afraid to touch them, fearing the unknown direction it might send me. I could only see my distorted reflection in the stained glass facets. I wasn't certain how I would know which would be the right choice. I was running out of options, almost back to where I began. The next one I looked into didn't have my reflection. I saw my mother. I shut my eyes and shook my head. The bent image of myself was staring back. She wasn't there.

"You okay, Avian?" Jasper asked.

"This one," I said, pointing. "I choose this one."

"Fantastic," Jasper said, jumping to his feet. "Pick it up. You're going to smash it."

Abruptly, I turned to him, completely confused. "I'm going to what?" 

"You're going to take that penrose and throw it into the pool of the fountain," Jasper directed. "The water's shallow, so one good throw, straight down, should do the trick."

I carefully lifted the penrose off of the bronze pedestal with both hands. I moved toward the fountain, each step slower and smaller than the last. At the wall of the fountain, I looked down at the water then over to Jasper. "Are you sure about this?"