Knock Three Times

27. A Thought Within a Dream

    'Why am I here . . . what happened to the catacombs?' she asked, and the old man lowered his brow, unsure of how to explain, but put forth his best efforts regardless.

    'You are here at the request of one Jean D'Arc . . . a trapped essence of whom will require your assistance this very evening.'

    'Joan of Arc?' Just then, Meredith recalled the strange vision which had flashed before her eyes the day Cardinal Merrill was executed. A blood splattered face which mimicked her sister, Chelsea raged into battle, but then wept before an entire English Army. She remembered well how mere legend of the Arc woman had the fiercest of soldiers dropping their swords, but was unclear as to how this woman related to her current situation.

    'Legend has a way of skewing truth, Sister Meredith.' Nicholas smirked. 'Truth is in the eye of the beholder, where books and tales of old reveal but a fragmented reality of what was.'

    'What happened in the catacombs; where are my kids?'

    'You haven't left the catacombs, child. I have simply taken you out of the situation for a brief moment. Before you face what is to come, I thought it best we finally meet face-to-face. Your children are exactly as they were, and when our meeting is concluded you will also be as you were. This is a mere thought and nothing more—a fragment of memory out of space and time, like a thought within a dream.'

    'For what purpose?' she asked, not questioning how this was possible.

    'Acceptance and wisdom.' he replied. 'Much is about to unfold, and I fear you are not ready for what turmoil may come. Your role in the coming days is most crucial to a grander agenda—one that would spell disaster for your mental state if not properly addressed. Difficult times indeed lie ahead, and so you must be warned. Follow me; there is much you need see in order to truly comprehend what will soon come to pass.'

    Jean turned from the hauntingly still view of the blood-tinged Hamelin, and stepped beyond the houses at the edge of the village, into the thick fog which hugged the base of the surrounding mountains. Though Meredith's strange guide had claimed she was somehow dreaming, every bit of the experience felt exceptionally real. From the crunch of dead leaves under her heels to the distinct smell of autumn in the air, which warned of a coming winter's chill, dream seemed indistinguishable from reality.

    The fog enveloped her like a thick blanket of vapour, and the forest floor seemed all that remained for a brief moment, until the crimson tinge of the surrounding haze turned a bright blue, and the tiled rooftops of the old-fashion homes vanished out of sight completely. A slight glimpse of shimmering white fabric disappeared between to massive tree trunks ahead, and she followed the elderly Nicholas through the fog and into a strange new space.

    Meredith stood within a small wooded area, like a large room within the forest. Twelve towering oak trees stood perfectly spaced in a circular formation all around them, the massive trunks like a quaint shelter, where the earth dipped a foot or so onto a cobblestone floor. The expected red tinge of the moon had turned a bluish-white somehow, and bright beams of moonlight gracefully danced through the shadows of thick canopy above as the gentle wind played each leaf like a finely tuned instrument. At the center of the quaint and calming space stood two smaller but crooked trees branched outward and in, upwards and down, winding into one another like a finely weaved braid in sections. The moonbeams seemed to shine solely upon these unusual plants, highlighting the bark on the tree to the left with a ridged crimson, like dried blood in colour, where its brother to its right was a smooth ivory.

    'What is this place?' she asked, her wondrous gaze spotting a massive triangle of sticks and vines above her head, each corner tied to one of the surrounding twelve tree trunks.