Read Online The Far Dawn by Kevin Emerson - Free Book Online Page B

arriving from somewhere very far away.
    It is not the white of the Sentinel nor the sunrise nor the shadow blues of the Andes temple.
    It is crimson, golden, flickering like firelight.
    Blurs become lines. Draw geometry, create depth.
    There is a room.
    A single window looks out on night aglow with amber city light. The other walls are hung with heavy folds of fabric. The wall in front of me has a floor-to-ceiling mirror.
    My view of it is blocked by a girl.
    She stands facing the mirror, back to me, wearing nothing. Black hair spills in waves all the way to her waist.
    I think to turn away, but I can’t. I am not in control of these eyes.
    Then her arms rise above her head and shimmering black fabric falls over her shoulders, down her back, to her knees.
    Rana’s head cocks back toward me, and she smiles slyly. “I told you not to look,” she says in a soft, ancient language. Back in my—in the Aeronaut’s—skull, Lük said we were communicating beneath language, through the harmony of Qi and An. That must be how I understand her now.
    And so I start to reply, Sorry.
    But another voice instead answers, “You did.”
    I feel us grinning.
    Rana steps to a dresser and begins to pull her hair back. In the mirror, I see myself kneeling on the wooden floor, wearing black as well.
    Not quite me. I recognize the angular face and short brown hair. I am Lük. Is this another skull vision?
    No, this is real. Lük doesn’t turn, but I do, or I turn my perception, and I find the Terra floating in the gray space beside the windows of Lük’s eyes.
    Real, I say. Like a memory?
    You are in this moment. I have brought you here to see.
    Brought me here, like, through time?
    Time is one of the faces of the Qi-An. I have removed you from your world, pulled you back into the white realm, the foam behind the solid surface of reality. Here, we can travel outside time.
    Is my body still in the temple? Am I still . . .
    Your body is safe. Right now you are here. I could connect you to Lük because you are similar. Brothers of memory.
    But, I say, as the bright white moment, the Sentinel’s blade, returns to my mind, she said I’m not one of the Three.
    The Three will fail, says the Terra.
    But am I one of them or not? Am I the Aeronaut?
    The Terra doesn’t need to respond, though.
    I already know. I have maybe known for a while, since Rana spoke to me in Lilly’s skull, or even since we were escaping EdenWest.
    No, says the Terra. You are not one of the Three.
    My first feeling is anger. Yet another lie told to me, another way I’ve been tricked.
    It is not like that, says the Terra.
    So then what am I?
    You are the one that I chose. You are more than the Three. I found you across time and space and have chosen you.
    Why would you choose me?
    The Terra seems to frown. Is that really your first question? To doubt yourself? Is it not more important what I have chosen you for?
    Sorry. I feel a wave of embarrassment.
    It is true, though, that I had limited choices , says the Terra, among those who were close enough matches to receive the knowledge of the Three.
    That doesn’t make me feel any better.
    Owen, most of the universe is shaped by circumstance. This planet would still be ruled by dinosaurs if not for a stray asteroid. That you ask these questions is part of what makes you worthy, that you can see beyond the human veils of ego and selfishness. But they also make you vulnerable to doubt. On your journey you have learned to trust, in yourself, in the moment, and in what you believe in. You must stay strong in these ways for what is to come.
    Okay . . . so, you didn’t choose me to find Atlantis or protect the Paintbrush of the Gods.
    No.
    Then what did you choose me for?
    That is the right question, says the Terra. I chose you to save me.
    You? How?
    You must watch this moment, this night, and then you will understand.
    There is a knock on a door.