The Unskillful Thaumaturge

XL

They passed the first exhibit, mounted neatly on the wall in a thick glass case. Lights inside the case illuminated a series of photographs of the obelisk and the park. A plaque described the circumstances surrounding the Thaumatogenesis. Lillian paused briefly to examine the photos, but didn't stay to read the plaque, instead walking on to the next exhibit, located in a brightly lit alcove cut into the wall.

A fraying, battered-looking basket, barely larger than an airplane tray table, sat neatly in a glass case atop a pedestal. Lillian stopped to read the plaque, which explained that the basket had appeared, along with the baby, at the site of the Thaumatogenesis. It was woven out of rattan, the sign explained, but hadn't been made by any company in operation at the time. Like the baby, its origin was unknown. Lillian returned her attention to the museum and realized that Leslie was far ahead of her. She strode quickly through the hall and put her hand on her roommate's shoulder.

Leslie spun around. "What?"

"Can you walk a bit slower?" Lillian wondered.

"Sure." Leslie didn't apologize as the two wandered into the illusionistics section.

❦

Dakota raced up the stairs, rubbing his tired eyes without bothering to look where he was walking. His foot slammed halfway into a stair and, arms pinwheeling, he fell backward, hitting his head on the side of the staircase with an impact that could have cracked his skull. His body crumpled and pivoted over his head, kneecaps slamming into the floor.

He rose without protest and continued his mission up the stairs, stopping only when he reached the top. Panting, he walked down a narrow, curving hallway, stopping at the third door. The initials AC were carved into a nameplate by the door.

Holding his breath, he knocked three times on the solid wooden door.

Ashley answered at once with an annoyed expression. "What is it?"

"Can-" Dakota panted. "Can we talk?"

Her face softened. "Okay." She swung the door open, letting Dakota pass her and enter the room. He stopped after noticing a pair of comfortable-looking modern orange chairs. Ashley bustled past him and into another room, returning moments later with two steaming plates of bacon and scrambled eggs. She set one down in front of herself and a second in front of Dakota.

"Is this-" Dakota began.

Ashley cut him off. "Look at the plate."

Dakota used his fork to push aside the eggs and get a good look at the plate. It was patterned blue and white, with several words written in the middle. Dakota relaxed and speared a piece of egg with his fork.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Ashley wondered, taking a bite of her eggs.

"I keep-" Dakota cleared his throat. "I had another nightmare tonight."

"You did?" Ashley asked, concerned. "What was it about?"

"I was standing in that arena listening to her talk."

"Listening to who?"

"The Guardian."

Ashley was silent for a moment.

"It's been my most vivid dream in the last year."

"Dakota- I- I honestly don't know what to do. What was the dream like?"

"It was very clear. I was standing there, they had me chained, and then I saw them kill the guards, and-" He shuddered.

Ashley leaned in and held up her fork in emphasis. "Is there something we can do that would help you deal with all this any better?"

Dakota shook his head forlornly. "The only thing I can think of would be to see Mira, and even then, it might not-" He broke off uncertainly. "How long has it been?"

Ashley understood his question immediately. "Six days."

"Only six... But it's been so long. It seems so incredible that it's been six days, Ashley, everything is right where I left it."

"That's not the problem right now," she reminded him. "What we need to do is take care of those nightmares. I know it's been hard for you."

Dakota winced. "That's an understatement. I feel so helpless here, I can't do anything for anyone, and there's no going over there to clean things up. I might be able to fix it in a month, but..." He gave a mirthless chuckle. "Where would we be here? There's so much to do..."

"What's going to happen if you just keep waiting? A second?" Ashley snapped her fingers an inch from Dakota's face.

"I guess you're right," Dakota responded. "It almost feels like I'm abandoning them, though..."

"Abandoning them?"

Obliviously, Dakota continued. "How long will it take them to get out? She's smart, but he'd slip her up; he's smooth-tongued, but she'd slip him up; and if it takes them any longer than three months..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but Ashley knew instinctively what he was going to say. "Don't worry, Dakota, they're probably doing it right now. The beauty of it is that, once this is all over, you can break them out yourself."

Dakota began to relax. "When is it going to be over, though?"

"I don't know any more than you do," she replied, patting his back. Dakota noticed with admiration how her plate was already clean.

"Like some bacon?" he asked, raising it half-heartedly.

Her eyes flicked from his face to the piece of bacon and back. "Umm..."

"Oh. Right." Dakota blushed, taking a bite out of the strip. "Sorry."

"And don't think what you've done creates fewer problems than it solves."

The bacon stuck halfway down Dakota's throat, and he swallowed. "What are you talking about?"

Ashley picked up her plate and began walking out of the room, twisting her head over her shoulder to look back at Dakota with a mirthless smile. "The children."