The Oak Hotel - Watty Awards 2013 Finalist

Chapter Twenty-five - Grand Endeavor

Chapter Twenty-five

Grand Endeavor

Kayleigh and Lincoln stepped back through the portal to the sorrowful rapture of The Symphony of Dusk. When they had moved fully away from the ink-black rotation, the doorway sprung back as if liquid-elastic then spiraled in upon itself and was gone.

“I feel like…” Kayleigh began, then stopped. She could not find the words and her hands were shaking.

“Me, too,” Lincoln finished with complete understanding. The voice of Ka Tolerates, which had filled his mind as she explained exactly what needed to be done, left permanent echoes. It was as if he could still hear her talking, or whispering, though their connection had been severed.

Without speaking, they moved in a daze across the barren plateau of Mount Aikona toward the silver gleam of SkyCarOne. When they reached the small platform below, their two new friends moved toward them from Ticket Station IX. Wearing looks of concern, Rylyn graduated from a walk to a jog.

“Is everything alright?” Rylyn asked.

“Yes,” Kayleigh said, confused. “Are you two okay?”

Godfray looked up to the mountain and then back to them. “We thought that, perhaps, you might have taken a bit longer.”

“But we’ve been gone for… what?” Lincoln asked, glancing at Kayleigh. Was the length of a day on Te’hæra Thorn that different from here in Burnam Tau’roh. “Six? Seven hours?”

“At least,” Kayleigh answered, then noticed the sun was nearly in the exact position it had been when they’d left. Ka Tolerates must have sent us back right after we left, she realized. Virtually no time had passed on this side of the portal.

“You know what?” Kayleigh smiled. “Why don’t you two just go on as if we never came back. We’re going to look around here for a while then head back to the orchard.”

Rylyn’s eyebrows narrowed. Kayleigh felt a pang of guilt at not being able to tell her what they knew, especially considering that Rylyn would be playing an important part. Lincoln picked up on this as well, adding, “Aren’t you and Mona going to show us how to preserve rapture figs later this evening?”

Rylyn looked to Lincoln, then back to Kayleigh and seemed to understand.

“Of course,” she said, “I’ll meet you back at the orchard in a few hours.”

Leaving their now only slightly confused friend behind, Kayleigh led Lincoln across the tracks and back to the northbound road toward Trokamano Orchard.

They entered the great farmhouse, but Mona was missing. Calling out did not bring her around and after ten further minutes of searching they began to worry.

Sitting in the kitchen, they were prepared to search the orchard and question the workers when they heard a weak voice call out, “Kayleigh? Lincoln? Have you returned already?”

Startled, they followed the direction of Mona’s voice to the rear of the kitchen. There, behind a thick, woven curtain they hadn’t noticed earlier was a dark passage leading down.

“Mona?” Kayleigh called.

“Down here, dears!” the old woman’s voice echoed oddly.

Nineteen stone steps lead downward, each curving slightly to the left. At the bottom, they discovered a long, subterranean room. The ceiling was low, no higher than six feet, and the walls to the right and left were lined with an impossible collection of various sized jars filled with preserved fruit.