The Traveler

General Nash ended the phone call without saying goodbye and Boone stood alone near the entrance to the administration center. If he reviewed his actions during the last few weeks, he had to acknowledge some mistakes. He had underestimated Maya’s effectiveness and ignored his own suspicions about Lawrence Takawa. He had given in to anger on several occasions, and that had influenced his choices.

As the fire died down, the smoke changed color from black to dirty gray. It looked like car exhaust-just ordinary pollution-as it came out of the vents, drifted up into the air, and disappeared. Maybe the Brethren had suffered a temporary setback, but victory was inevitable. Politicians could talk about freedom, their words thrown into the air like confetti. It meant nothing; the traditional idea of freedom was fading away. For the first time that morning, Boone pressed the button on his wristwatch and was pleased to see that his pulse rate was normal. He stood up straight, squared his shoulders, and entered the building.

61

Once again, Maya was held captive by the dream. Standing alone in the dark tunnel, she attacked the three football thugs and escaped down the staircase. Men were fighting on the platform, trying to smash the train windows, as Thorn grabbed her with his right hand and pulled her into the car.

She had thought about that incident so many times that it had become a permanent section of her brain. Wake up, she told herself. Enough. But this time she lingered in the memory. The train lurched forward and she pressed her face against her father’s wool overcoat. Her eyes were closed as she bit her lip and tasted blood in her mouth.

Maya’s anger was strong and loud, but another voice was whispering to her in the darkness. And then she knew that a secret was about to be revealed. Thorn had always been strong and brave and sure of himself. He had betrayed her that afternoon in North London, but something else had happened.

The Underground train lurched forward, leaving the station, and she looked up at her father and saw that he was crying. At the time, it seemed impossible that Thorn could ever show weakness. But now she knew it was true. A single tear on a Harlequin’s cheek was a rare and precious thing. Forgive me. Was that what he was thinking? Forgive me for what I have done to you.

***

SHE OPENED HER eyes and saw that Vicki was looking down at her. For a few seconds Maya lingered in a shadow land between her dream and the waking world; she could still see Thorn’s face while her hand touched the edge of a blanket. Breathe out. And her father disappeared.

“Can you hear me?” Vicki asked.

“Yes. I’m awake.”

“How do you feel?”

Maya reached beneath the bedsheet and felt the bandage that covered her injured leg. If she moved her body quickly, there was a sharp pain, like being jabbed with the point of a knife. If she remained stationary, it felt like someone had burned her skin with a branding iron. Thorn had taught her that you couldn’t ignore pain; you tried to reduce it to a specific point that was isolated from the rest of your body.

She looked around the room and remembered being placed in the bed. They were in a beach house on the coast of Cape Cod, the curving Massachusetts peninsula that jutted into the Atlantic Ocean. Vicki, Gabriel, and Hollis had driven her there after spending several hours at a private clinic run by a doctor in Boston. The doctor was a member of Vicki’s church who used the house as a summer retreat.

“Do you want another pill?”

“No pills. Where’s Gabriel?”

“He’s walking on the beach. Don’t worry. Hollis is guarding him.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About eight or nine hours.”

“Find Gabriel and Hollis,” Maya said. “Pack everything up. We have to keep moving.”

“That’s not necessary. We’re safe here-at least for a few days. Nobody knows we’re at the house except Dr. Lewis and he believes in Debt Not Paid. He’d never betray a Harlequin.”

“The Tabula are looking for us.”

“No one’s walking on the beach because it’s too cold. The house next door is empty for the winter. Most of the stores in the village are closed and we haven’t seen any surveillance cameras.”

Vicki looked strong and sure of herself, and Maya found herself remembering the timid church girl she approached in the Los Angeles airport just a few weeks ago. Everything had changed, moved forward, because of the Traveler.

“I need to see Gabriel.”

“He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Help me up, Vicki. I don’t want to be in bed.”

Maya used her elbows to push her body up. The pain came again, but she was able to control the expression on her face. Standing on her good leg, she threw one arm around Vicki’s shoulder and the two women moved slowly out of the bedroom and down a hallway.