He turned to the south and looked over his grandfather’s sprawling estate. Most of his friends’ grandparents were still alive, and whenever he heard his friends talk of them, Daniel couldn’t help but wish he’d known his. He imagined his grandmother Virginia to be strong and independent. He pictured her with chestnut hair, fair skin, and always wearing a dress. He liked to imagine her voice as soothing and warm.
He knew his grandfather Tucker was confined to a wheelchair during the final years of his life, but imagined him to be as hard-working then as he was during his youth. There was only one picture Daniel had seen of him, taken as a young man. His eyes were piercing and raven-black.
In the photo, his grandfather was not smiling. He appeared to be caught up in his thoughts and unaware a snapshot was being taken. The photo always fascinated Daniel, as he related to that feeling of being lost in thought and needing moments of introspection. He believed if his grandfather were still alive, they’d share a special bond.
From his spot in the tree, Daniel saw the fishpond; the cracked planter; the house, mysterious even from up this high; and the gardens in the arboretum. Something caught his attention. Daniel shut his eyes, then opened them again.
“Whoa, that’s strange,” he said, staring at the family mausoleum. “Big-time déjà vu.”
The four spires of the mausoleum were wide at the base, narrowing to their point, and carved in spirals. With the sun shining on the stones, the spirals appeared to be moving in circles, forming upside-down tornado clouds.
This was more than déjà vu, Daniel realized. He’d seen this image recently. But where? Was it at Granddad Tucker’s house? He tried to recall everything about the house—the creaky stairs, attics, and antique chests. He grew frustrated; it bugged him when he couldn’t remember things. He studied the spires. They were inlaid with light-colored stones, and the reflection of the setting sun gave them a water-like appearance.
Water-like …
Daniel remembered where he’d seen it and instantly wished he could forget. It was during his nightmare of the lake and the horrible face that swallowed him—that’s what he was trying to remember after Joshua woke him. It all came rushing back. In the dream, he was falling down the creature’s throat. Water engulfed him. He was either going to drown from the torrent or crash upon the rocks. Either way, he was doomed. All he could do was wait it out.
Daniel looked through the water and saw four shapes not too far off in the distance—spirals of water, equal in size, forming upside-down tornado clouds. Their undulating rings had a hypnotic effect and the water glistened like crystal. Near the base, the spirals appeared metallic and solid, bleeding their color as they rose to the apex.
A red light appeared and covered everything in sight. It came closer, stopping within a few feet of him, then dimmed. Daniel lowered his hands and saw the figure of a man.
The man was turned so his face was hidden. He wore a cloak made of heavy black cloth, its sleeves long enough to cover the palms of his hands. At sleeve’s end was a shiny gold band. Daniel heard the water gushing, but it was distant to him now, as if he were trapped inside a tunnel. The man lowered his arms and the light disappeared. He covered his head with the hood of his cloak, then turned and walked away.
Daniel swayed gently on a branch of the tree, holding the rescued rocket in one hand and the tree trunk with the other, trying to make sense of what was going on. It has to be a coincidence. I’m seeing things. It’s the sun reflecting off the stones, creating a weird illusion.
The denial gave him comfort and put his mind at ease. He needed to climb down, as he was going to be late for supper. However, turning for one last glance of the old mausoleum, he knew he wasn’t crazy or imagining things.
It wasn’t the sun reflecting off the stones. The spiraling steeples and waterfall in his dream, the face on the bus, the ruined history project—they were not merely singular, random events he could sweep from his mind. He had to see for himself.
Chapter 9
Illiana
The heavy iron door creaked as he entered the tomb and stood among the graves of his ancestors. His flashlight projected an isolated beam of light across the room. “What am I doing in here?” Daniel whispered. “I must be crazy.”
Daniel wasn’t someone who frightened easily. He could stay up late on Saturday nights and watch scary movies without once turning on the lights. But this was different. He was alone in a tomb, surrounded on both sides by the burial chambers of dead people. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Come on, Daniel, you can do this,” he told himself, his voice a bit stronger.
He’d been inside the mausoleum three times in his life. The first time, his father brought him here for one of his history lessons. “I want you to know the story of your family name,” he said.
“Can’t I learn about it someplace that isn’t so creepy?” Daniel replied.
The second time was the Sunday picnic game of hide-and-seek. It was the middle of the day, and he was playing a game—he wasn’t the least bit nervous. He entered and saw his father, but his father wore a trance-like expression on his face and didn’t recognize him. Daniel called to him, and his father snapped out of whatever it was he was thinking about and smiled at Daniel.
The third time was the funeral. Joshua refused to come, so he and his mother entered alone. He’d never had anyone in his life die before and was struck with a terrible realization. During his first two visits to the mausoleum, he’d known what was inside the marble walls. But he never really knew, deep in his gut, until his father’s funeral. He stood, holding his mother’s hand, and stared at the slab of marble on which his father’s name was inscribed, wishing that this was a bad dream. More than anything, he wanted to wake up and find himself on the front lawn playing pitch with his father, while Josh and his mother ran barefoot through the sprinklers.
A tear fell from his eye. Daniel was standing in front of the tomb of his father. “Joel Braden,” read the marker. His father lay an arm’s length away. Daniel would never see him again.
He stood by the casket for several minutes. He wanted to reverse the days and steal back the memories. This time, he wouldn’t be angry at his father or storm out of the house. Daniel wiped the tear from his eye. It was getting late, and he needed to move on. His mother would wring his neck if she caught him sneaking out.
He shined the light upon each tomb until he came to one that caught his eye, one bearing the name “Illian.” He didn’t recognize the name, nor had he heard his father speak of anyone by this name. There was an inscription on the face of the tomb, grown faint over time, but still readable:
Illian,
A sensible man will remember that the eyes may be confused in two ways—by a change from light to darkness or from darkness to light; and he will recognize that the same thing happens to a soul. ~ Plato
I have always followed the light.
Daniel pondered these words. What did they mean, and who had written them? He noticed the chamber next to Illian’s was the same in shade and design. “Illiana.” There was no date, no inscription. Just the name.
“Illian and Illiana,” he whispered. “I wonder if they were brother and sister.” Why was there an inscription on Illian’s grave but not Illiana’s? Could Illiana have written it? He reread the inscription—I have always followed the light. He ran his fingers over those words. “What light are you talking about, Illiana?”
Illiana. There was something about the name that intrigued him. It sounded so … ancient, but at the same time so elegant. He whispered her name again, speculating on who she was. He thought for a second he felt a gust of wind blowing across his face but quickly dismissed the idea. He was inside a sealed room, one built to protect from outside elements.
He read the quotation from Plato again. The eyes may be confused in two ways—by a change from light to darkness or from darkness to light.
He remembered the first time his father took him cave exploring, and the s
hock that came with the sudden change from light to darkness. Soon, he adjusted to the darkness and they spent the night inside the cave with little difficulty, navigating by headlamps. Upon leaving, his father turned to him and said, “First comes the shock, then the glow.” Daniel didn’t understand what that meant, but as he stepped into the daylight, he found out. The brightness was blinding and he shut his eyes tightly. However, after a few minutes, he was able to appreciate the sunlight like never before.
The memory was cut short. This time, he was sure—wind was blowing inside the mausoleum. His arms were cold and his hair blew gently. Daniel searched the room, looking for cracks in the wall. He knew it was only wind, but something about it, coupled with the overall spookiness of the room, unsettled him.
“I think it’s time to get the heck out of here,” he said, and was heading for the door when he felt the ground move under his feet. “Whoa! What the heck is going on?” Again, the ground shook. Earthquake?
He recalled the history presentations. One girl did her project on California earthquakes, specifically in the Northern California area. She told the class that Grisby was near a fault line ripe for earthquakes. Daniel had never experienced one and wondered if this one was almost over, or whether it had just begun. Something told him it wasn’t close to being over.
The floor cracked, splintering in every direction. The sides of the building broke; chunks of stone fell around him. The mausoleum, Daniel realized, was collapsing, and he could only pray he wouldn’t be buried under its rubble. He curled up in a ball and hid his face from the falling rocks.
***
How could he explain what he saw when he raised his head and opened his eyes? Words couldn’t paint an accurate picture.
He was standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The sound of the cresting waves filled the air, and somewhere in the distance he heard a crow shriek. The setting sun filled the sky with rich, glowing tones. Daniel wondered if this was what Heaven looked like. Then he saw them. Statuesque against the backdrop of the sea were three dark figures, all wearing magnificent robes.
The younger of the two men wore a heavy countenance. His smooth skin and pale complexion gave him a youthful appearance that, perhaps, disguised his true age. His eyes seemed much older than his slender frame suggested. The older man, by comparison, exuded the composure that comes with advancing years. His skin was weather-beaten, his robe tattered and well worn. He studied the landscape with a reflective stare, as if preparing to say goodbye to something.
But it was the woman who held Daniel’s attention. She couldn’t have been much older than the young man but appeared to possess the decisiveness of his counterpart. As she stood at the cliff’s edge, Daniel noticed the grace with which she moved. Seeing her long, black hair and turquoise robe flowing behind, he was reminded of childhood stories involving the beautiful princess—the one who fights evil siblings, captivates the hearts of princes, and eventually becomes queen.
A deep solemnity surrounded them, and Daniel felt guilty witnessing such a private moment. He wasn’t sure if they recognized him or not and was looking for a place to hide when the old man stepped forward and placed his hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
“The fourth will come, Sebastian.” The man spoke softly, yet Daniel could hear his words as if he were speaking directly to him. “This will not be done in vain.”
***
It was impossible to tell where the sky ended and sea began. Daniel held onto a nearby stump as the ground trembled. His attention stayed focused on the woman floating over the ocean and the stone in her hand. When she’d stepped off the cliff, he cried out in fright. This woman, a portrait of strength and grace, was about to fall to her death. However, fear gave way to confusion and amazement when she walked across the sky. Even more alarming, she was now floating back to the cliff and looking in his direction.
As the lady approached, Daniel didn’t know whether to run or hide. True, he considered her beautiful and kind. But this was still a woman with the power to glide through the air, and from whose hand shot a beam of light so powerful it shook the ground. Could this be Illiana? Daniel remembered the inscription: I have always followed the light. Well, if Illiana was looking for light, there was enough of it here to make everyone happy.
“Illiana?” he asked, surprised his voice didn’t squeak.
The woman nodded slowly. Daniel didn’t know whether he should bow or salute or what, so he did the first thing that came to mind—he waved! He waved to Illiana with a nervous and awkward “hello.” She motioned for him to come forward. His first step was a tentative one, but Daniel gained courage with each step.
She was even more beautiful up close. When she smiled at Daniel, he saw slight wrinkles near her eyes and mouth. He remembered his mother once telling him, “Laugh lines are the first sign of a life lived happily.”
Illiana’s eyes were soft and welcoming, but in them Daniel saw a trace of sadness. This was a woman, he imagined, who smiled and laughed often; but this was also a woman who’d experienced great loss, whose eyes could not hide that truth. Daniel felt a strong kinship to her.
There were so many questions he wanted to ask. When and where she lived; all about her family; about Illian and how he died; about the two men standing with her on the cliff; and he really wanted to know how she did the cool trick of walking across the sky. But instead he remained quiet, as did she. Sometimes words get in the way. Illiana held up her hands and motioned for Daniel to take the stone. He hesitated, reluctant to accept such a gift, but understood by her expression this was not an offer to decline. He reached for the stone.
***
She was gone. It was all gone—the cliff, the sea, the two men. Daniel stood at the top of a dark, narrow stairwell. The mausoleum was still standing; it hadn’t crumbled in an earthquake, and Daniel realized he was inside one of the spires of the building. “How did I get here? The last thing I remember was Illiana giving me …” His voice trailed off.
Was it a dream? Was there no earthquake? No flying lady with a magic stone and turquoise robe? These doubts left him dejected. He wanted it to be true as much as he’d wanted anything in a long time. Daniel was so carried away with his thoughts that he failed to notice the velvet bag in his hands. What the—?
His heart pounded as he reached inside and pulled out the stone. Illiana was real, after all. Filled with relief, he smiled, the first time he’d done so since seeing the dolphins. He replayed the encounter in his mind, losing all track of time.
Minutes passed unnoticed, until Daniel realized he was facing a new challenge: how was he supposed to get out of this stairwell? There was no door or passageway; as far as he could tell, he was trapped inside. He tried banging on the wall—no luck. He used every magical password he knew (Open Sesame!), but again, no luck. He dropped to his knees and searched for a hidden lever that might trigger a door to open.
“This is useless,” he said.
Daniel placed his fingers on the wall, imagining a safecracker in one of the old movies. The safecrackers always shut their eyes to concentrate better, so Daniel closed his and examined the wall with his hands, searching for anything unusual, any bump or scratch. He didn’t know what he was looking for but was sure he’d know it when he found it.
He was tired and sweating, but he kept going and that’s when he felt it—a cleft, a couple of inches deep, cut into the surface. Bingo! He pressed his thumb into the hole, fully expecting a door to appear out of nowhere. But nothing happened. “Rats!” he said, checking his watch. It was getting late and it ticked him off that he had to fret over silly matters like curfews and supper when there were more important issues at hand, such as meeting long-lost relatives and figuring out how to flee a mausoleum stairway. Doesn’t Mom know I have better things to worry about than squash and lima beans?
He was tired and his muscles ached. His hair was drenched; he shook it out and rubbed the back of his neck. Hmmm—it was a simple thought. But a stupid one, he dec
ided. It wasn’t possible. “It is about the same size, though,” he said, slipping the stone into the cleft and seeing it was a perfect fit. “It’s not poss—” His words stopped short, as the wall rolled slowly back, giving him the passageway he desired.
Confused, relieved, and freaked-out, Daniel left the mausoleum. Running for home, he suspected there were many secrets about his family that nobody had told him. And he was determined to find out.
Chapter 10
The Onyx
It was a quiet dinner. Daniel assumed his mother was giving him the silent treatment, which was fine. His mind was far, far away from thoughts of broccoli, carrots, and the chicken nuggets on his plate. He couldn’t wait to get back to the stone he found. Was it really real? Of course it was real, he told himself. He had the evidence right upstairs under his mattress. But why had Illiana given it to him, and what did it mean? He had to find out and practically inhaled the rest of his food.
Daniel entered his room, worried the stone would no longer be there, and hesitated for a split second. What if it was gone? Would that officially mean that, yes, he’d lost his mind? Or would it mean someone knew about his discovery and had broken in to steal it? His heart pounded as he lifted the corner of his mattress. It was still there—the blue velvet pouch beneath his covers. He hadn’t lost his mind, at least not yet.
The sackcloth was like something he might see on Treasures of Time. He rubbed his hands over the soft velvet and felt the waxen texture of the gold-braided drawstring. Who would have owned such fabric? He envisioned a lady in an evening gown dancing at a formal ball, wearing long black gloves that reached past her elbows. Or perhaps it belonged to an English gentleman, who wore velvet riding spurs as he went foxhunting. Or maybe a knight in medieval times, whose tunic brought relief to him after he shed his armor for the day.
His imagination ran full throttle, as he quietly sang the theme song to his favorite TV show: