A Vision of Fire

Caitlin glanced at the powerful, rising group soul, and then she knew what she had to do. She turned and plunged across the sky toward the largest column. There was no sense of weight or weightlessness, no sense of motion, only a sensation of sudden, lightning-like extension—point to point to point. Arms outstretched, she grabbed at the energy around the column as if it were tangible.

And it was. She felt it writhe in her embrace, become one with her, like the power she’d received from the snake but exponentially more. She wrenched her body around and with a long sweep of her arms, she cast the power toward the courtyard. It flew through and away from her, as in Haiti when, out of control, Caitlin had thrown Gaelle against a wall.

But this time she directed it.

The tsunami of lava was perilously close to the city as the energy reached the courtyard and infused it. The paving stones erupted in light from beneath, a brilliant glow that blazed through the huge triangle carved into them, the crescents within crescents.

Those who were still standing and chanting the cazh, those shocked Galderkhaani, screamed as the fusion of earth, fire, water, and light swept over them. Their movements changed from swaying to lurching tremors as their souls were yanked one from the other from the other, unlinked. Abruptly, their mortal screams stopped as their right and left brains ceased to function together. Their mouths remained frozen for a moment; an instant later the right sides of their bodies crumpled. They fell heavily to the stones where they died. Thick, bloody liquid flowed from their noses and mouths onto their burning white and yellow robes.

And Caitlin saw that once more their souls rose, invisible yet somehow tangible. But with this death, a death without the cazh, they were ascending as individuals. The group soul was no more. Whatever its purpose had been, that goal was unrealized. Whatever power had allowed the bonded souls to reach through time, that was gone.

The mammoth wave of lava broke over the city and destroyed it. There was nothing epic or prolonged about its demise: one moment Galderkhaan struggled, then it was gone. Caitlin felt the ecstasy of the energy depart from her; no longer immaterial, she plummeted into the sea…

And dropped to the floor of the conference room. Ben broke her fall.

There was a quiet hiss as the smoke rising from her body was suddenly doused. Ben stroked her hair back. Her eyes were closed, her mouth relaxed.

“Cai?”

There was no response. He flipped the top from the tin, brought the jasmine tea to her nose, and held her tightly with his free arm. After a moment he heard her very quietly inhale.

“Cai? Are you… here?”

She opened her eyes, struggled to focus. Then, finding his face, she smiled.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m here.”

CHAPTER 33

Caitlin woke the next morning to see Jacob, fully dressed, leaning over her, smoothing her hair from her face. Caitlin blinked at the light shining from the hall through the open door, the tall figure of her father in the frame. Weak sunlight was filtering around the corners of her curtains.

“I’m going to school with Grandpa,” Jacob signed, then pasted himself to her for a hug and a kiss. Smiling, she watched the bedroom door shut quietly behind them.

Her eyes closed and she suddenly felt achingly alone, lonelier than she’d ever felt in her life. She had been bonded in a group the night before, in a still-unimaginable way, and now that was gone. She ran a hand through her hair; it felt too fine and unfamiliar.

Knowing it was four a.m. in Santa Monica, she phoned her sister anyway. Abby sounded wide awake.

“Whoa… I was just thinking about you.”

Caitlin was silent, staring at the ceiling. There was no way to tell her about any of it.

“Cai? Are you there? Did you butt-dial me?”

“Abby, do you think souls are real?”

“That’s… unexpected.”

“I know, I’m just—I don’t know. You’ve been around death. I mean, person-to-person. Much more than I have.”

“Too much of it,” Abby said. “Too much of it young, sudden, needless. Drugs, drinking, texting while driving, hit by cars, shot in malls.”

“And?”

“And, yeah, I do. This may sound nutty but sometimes when people die—only for an instant, the kind of moment that’s so fast you wonder if it happened—I can feel them. Not always, but briefly, after the life signs are gone, it’s very clear to me that I’m not the only person in the room. The feeling is stronger if I’m holding their hand.” Abby waited a moment. “Why are you asking?”

Caitlin had expected the question; there was no easy answer. “Just soul searching,” she joked.

“Cute,” Abby groaned. “Dad says you’ve been traveling.”

“Oh yeah,” Caitlin said. “That I have. Call you later?”

“Sure. I’ve got to go anyway.”

“Wait—you were just thinking about me? What are you doing up at this hour?”

“Got an early surgery,” Abby said.

“Ah. Good luck.”

“Thanks. Burn victim.”