In All of Infinity by H. R. Holt Page B

up
against? His opponent was larger than he was, by height and by
build. Reverie didn’t want him to get hurt, but she didn’t want to
die either. “I promise. Come on, what do you say? I’m not usually
one to make promises, so you better take up on this one. It won’t
come again.”
     
    “Wait your turn, pretty boy,” the large man
stated, his voice booming. He threw back his head and started
laughing again. “I promise that I’ll torture you with my entire
arsenal… after I kill little Ms. Reverie Reagan. They want to make
sure is swift and sure, like an arrow through the heart.”
     
    Isaac scoffed. “Wrong answer.”
     
    He charged and knocked the man down, causing
him to release Reverie’s neck. She pulled herself away and stepped
into the room nearest the staircase, gasping for breath as she felt
her neck. With her eyes glued to the fight, she realized she was
wrong about Isaac. He could hold his own. She wondered many things
in that instant: one, who would want to kill her? two, where was
her father? and three, did she have feelings for Isaac
Partridge?
     
    “Reverie?”
     
    Turning, she realized the dining room was
illumed by a bright light that came from everywhere and nowhere.
Standing across the table from her was a red cloaked figure,
holding a hand towards her.
     
    “Who are you?”
     
    “I’m your mother. Come…”
     
    Reverie felt as if she were gliding, and
heard the door close behind her. She wanted to turn and run, but,
for some reason, she couldn’t. When she approached the woman in
red, hands emerged from the sleeves of the cloak and raised
themselves to Reverie’s head. The brilliance of the white light
engulfed her and she found her memories slowly disappearing like a
dream in waking.
     
     

 
    ♥ Part Three: If Anything,
a Mind ♥
     
    The flames of the great fire caused shadows
to dance all around, almost as if the ghosts of those long dead
were present. The sound of drums that had once been strong was
faint, while voices began singing an ethereal tune laced together
by the melody from a flute. The flutist, standing within the ring
of drummers and singers, was dressed in a white dress that made her
face seem even fairer and her eyes even bluer.
     
    Standing near the fire, sweat pouring down
his face, looking at the faces all around him, Emmanuel didn’t
understand what was happening. The ritual that Truth seemed to
understand very well, causing him to smile, was leaving a furrow of
confusion on the doctor’s face. “Trust us,” they’d said. “We are
not cruel. We are fair people.” Although he’d taken their word for
it, he was beginning to question himself. Truth was almost
completely covered with black splotches, but he remained smiling.
Emmanuel was sure something was wrong with this situation, although
he couldn’t place his finger on it. He couldn’t place anything
anywhere. He didn’t know much about what was happening.
     
    Only hours ago, he’d arrived at Wrenwood, a
small village in the woods, and had to watch Truth explain their
situation to a council. When it was explained (in a language he
didn’t understand), the townspeople began creating a fire and
pulling a group together for the bizarre ritual. As he stared at
all of them now, he still didn’t understand why Truth insisted on
fourteen drummers and singers, but he’d given up caring. He just
wanted whatever was going on to be over so that he could go home.
He sensed his daughter was in grave danger, even though Truth
insisted she was safe. The ceremony had been proceeding for close
to three hours.
     
    When the flutist at last broke the circle
and the flame died down, a pale gray block of stone emerged from
where the fire had been. Emmanuel marveled at it, found the symbols
on the rectangular object rather beautiful. He knew each
represented something, but he didn’t get a chance to ask Truth what
they meant.
     
    Truth approached the block and lay on it,
finding the stone cool to the