The Multitude, стр. 77
He gathered her in his arms. How much should he tell her? What did she already know?
The clamor of a train rose from deep within the tunnel.
She pushed away. “This isn’t how my dream goes. You approach from behind. I never see who you are.”
“Nothing’s set in stone anymore.”
“Oh dear God, I hope not. Gabriella told me I have to do a terrible thing.”
Gabriella? The mere mention of her name frayed his nerves like nails grinding across a chalkboard.
The train grew louder. The tracks hummed.
Carla started to speak, sobbed, closed her eyes. When she reopened them, her expression had transformed to steely resolve. “She explained how I could only save Maynya by dying. And I’m Maynya. So I won’t be dying at all, will I?”
The beam of the approaching train brightened the station.
“I want you to push me in front of the train, Brewster.” Her voice shook.
No. He’d jump with her. They had the perfect opportunity to escape this world and, in doing so, save Quintus and Maynya.
A torrent of voices roared through his mind. Speaking English. Speaking Latin. His father’s voice. His mother’s. Quintus’s. His own voice as a child. Every priest and minister he’d ever known. They shouted snippets from all the lectures, admonitions, warnings, and sermons that had shaped his moral fabric.
The voices went silent. Did he imagine them? An impossible ray of sunshine flooded the dank tunnel and bathed him in its warmth before rushing away so fast it had to be imagined, as well. His ears rang. His knees shook.
What was happening? He clenched his fists. “I won’t do it.”
“No?” She wobbled.
Brewster grabbed her by the arm before both of them fainted onto the tracks. “You want me to push you because you’d never kill yourself. Suicide is terribly wrong and you know it. Guess what? So is murder.”
Carla’s lower lip trembled. She broke eye contact and looked down at her shoes. “I’m fallen.”
“No, you aren’t.” He took her in his arms again. “You’re trying to save Maynya however you can. We’ll find a better way.”
“This is the only way!” The girl’s shout came at them from behind.
Before Brewster could react, something shoved him forward. A force against his back far more powerful than any girl could muster. He lost balance, still holding Carla, and fell to the tracks with her.
The train burst into the station.
The brakes screeched.
The world went dark.
CHAPTER 34
Limbo—a world without time
Alive or dead?
Heaven or hell?
Brewster tried breathing.
The sweet scent of lilacs sent him soaring. He drew another breath, savored it, took in one more.
Birds chirped. The voices of a woman and child came at him.
He landed. The sensation of cold stone beneath him cracked the mood, allowing worries to creep into his brain like spiders. What had become of Carla? What happened to Maynya in the wedding tent? He opened his eyes.
A Japanese girl of perhaps twelve sat on a marble bench, and a woman he’d met, Abelia, knelt before her on the flagstone path with head bowed, as if she were the child and the girl a scolding parent.
He sat on a bench of his own, facing them and the stone wall behind them—a garden enclosure, judging by the idyllic scene of flowers and ponds visible through an unusual circular entrance.
Closer to him, the two across the path contrasted like a princess and a scullery maid—an exquisitely garbed girl lording over a red-haired penitent dressed in a simple shift. The child sat straight-backed and proud in a blue-and-white kimono. Her dark hair had been fixed in a bun to bare a delicate neck. A blue mosaic butterfly rose from the bone holding the hairdo in place.
Most likely, he was dreaming.
If so, what about Carla? And Maynya? Timelines had reached a climax on each side of a portal, waiting for him to step in and set a new course. But he failed, didn’t he?
Wavy motion drew his gaze to the garden again. A fountain bubbled just beyond the wall’s round opening. A willow tree waved droopy branches in the breeze. The images shimmered and blurred from the dance of butterflies—hordes of them—in the gateway.
The nearer scene proved vague, as well. A conversation between woman and child seemed loud enough to hear, and certainly close enough, yet so distant he might as well have been viewing a stage act from the last row of the highest balcony. He strained his ears to make out the words.
“What were you asked to do in Virtus?” the girl asked.
Abelia sighed, long and deep. “Bring grace to Maynya.”
“But what did you do?”
Abelia reddened. “I turned a man to salt.”
The girl caught Brewster’s eye. She shook her head.
Abelia had wanted him to save Carla. And he was ready to try again. He’d return to the subway station a thousand times if that’s what it took to set things right.
Brewster tried getting up but remained on the bench. His pulse raced. His mouth wouldn’t open and let him speak.
The interrogation continued.
“Afterward, what were you asked to do in the cemetery?”
“Show Brewster why he shouldn’t change the past.”
“But what did you do?”
“I’m sorry, Mother.” Abelia’s voice trembled.
“Tell me.”
“I helped Brewster change the past. Sometimes circumstances require improvisation.”
“Not on my watch,” the girl said.
Or Brewster’s. He tried saving Carla, but she’d fallen under the wheels of a train, anyway. He couldn’t have let such a thing happen.
The girl folded her arms. “Why is obedience such a challenge for you?”
Abelia sniffled. “I’ll try harder next time.”
“Is there anything you’ve done lately I’d be pleased to hear about?”
Abelia stared at the flagstone at her knees as if searching for answers in the cracks. She glanced up with a teary-eyed smile. “I learned a new language today. English!”
The girl laughed, but not with the mirth of a child. Her chuckle carried a combination of surprise and wisdom, like that of a professor who’d heard the right answer from his worst student. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.” She leaned close enough to place her hands on Abelia’s shoulders.