The Oak Hotel - Watty Awards 2013 Finalist

Chapter Fifty-three - Promises

Chapter Fifty-three

Promises

The trip was instantaneous, without the usual dreamlike stretch of time. His footing transformed from mossy groundcover to hardwood floor in a single stride.

He was back at The Oak Hotel!

Yet there were long, fluorescent lights on the ceiling, quite different from the blue foreverlights… so this couldn’t be the hotel. Then where was he?

It felt familiar, the smell of the room was almost recognizable, but something wasn’t right. In the center of the square space was a small, round table with two chairs at either side.

The chairs! Yes, he knew the chairs! Dark, wooden frame with rough burgundy upholstery. But where were they from?

Two knocks caused him to jump and turn. The room’s only door swung inward.

“Ms. Ruttier?” Lincoln asked, not comprehending what was happening.

Lea Ruttier smiled nervously, closing the door behind her. Moving toward the table, she took Lincoln’s arm and led him to one of the seats.

Stunned, Lincoln stared across the table and reached for her dry, wrinkled hand. Tears filled his eyes.

“I died when I went through the portal,” he sobbed. “I didn’t make it.” The world felt as if it were caving in around him, a dark encroaching cape of finality.

 “No, dear, no…” the old librarian soothed, caressing his hand. “But there isn’t much time. I need you to be strong right now, okay? I will tell you quickly what has happened, so listen carefully.”

Lincoln tried to clear his mind, but the adrenaline rush to his system made it difficult to focus.

“First,” Ms. Ruttier said, keeping her eyes on him, “What we’re attempting to do does not go against anything the de’Malange set into motion. What you accomplished on your expedition (of which I am so very proud of you, by the way) completed their vision and set in motion an incredible chain of events we will likely never bear witness to.

“After you stepped through the door in The Oak Hotel, the de’Malange sáwol gave the remainder of their abilities to the wood and passed on. Kayleigh, acting as Mona, performed her duties and kept watch to make sure everything was okay. About a week after you left, Shipmaster Creek appeared here at the library and everything changed.”

Lincoln hadn’t the strength of mind to ask how, though his eyes surely made the request and the librarian continued.

“First of all,” she began, removing the familiar FlipOut device from her pocket. “I received a message from Soh’Stretto on what I assume was the final world you were on.”

Lincoln sat up straight, amazed to hear the name.

Lea smiled. “Well, he or she had many good things to say about you, Lincoln. The people of that world were so impressed with you and what you did for them, they figured out a way to sneak you back here.”

Lincoln shook his head. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure. Whatever they did, it was beyond what the de’Malange imagined. They were the ones who conjured and reconfigured the portal that brought you here. All I did was give them the location of this room.”

“So…” Lincoln began. “I wasn’t gone for thousands of years, then?”

The town librarian stared off at a distant point momentarily, then leaned forward. “I won’t pretend I understand how, but no. I don’t know the implications of it, either. You still aged normally for the time you were gone, but as far as I can tell, it’s only been nine days since you left.”