The Traveler

Vicki knew only a few facts about the Travelers and the Harlequins, and she listened carefully to the conversation. The ability to cross over into other realms seemed to be genetic, inherited from a parent or a relative, but occasionally new Travelers appeared without a family connection. Harlequins keep elaborate lineages of past Travelers and this was how Thorn had known about Gabriel’s father.

Hollis lived a few blocks away from his storefront capoeira school. The single-family homes in the area had front yards and flower beds, but gang graffiti was spray-painted with dripping lines on the walls and billboards. When they turned off Florence Avenue, Hollis told Maya to move to the back of the van. Sitting up front, he instructed Vicki to slow down whenever they saw groups of young men wearing extra-large clothes and blue bandannas. Each time they stopped beside these gang members, Hollis would shake hands with the young men and use their street names.

“Some people might come around and ask about me,” he told them. “Tell ’em they’re in the wrong neighborhood.”

The driveway of Hollis’s two-bedroom house was blocked by a chain-link gate woven with plastic strips. Once they drove the van down the driveway and closed the gate, the vehicle was concealed from the street. Hollis unlocked the back door and they went into the house. Each room was clean and uncluttered, and Vicki didn’t see any signs of a girlfriend. The curtains were made out of bedsheets, oranges were stored in a clean automobile hubcap, and one bedroom had been filled with barbells and turned into a gym.

Vicki sat down at the kitchen table with Gabriel and Maya. Hollis took an assault rifle out of a broom closet, snapped in an ammunition clip, and placed the weapon on the counter. “We’ll be safe here,” he said. “If someone attacks the house, I’ll keep them busy. You jump over the wall to my neighbor’s backyard.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t want anyone to risk their life for me.”

“I’m getting paid for this,” Hollis said. “Maya is the one who’s doing it for free.”

Everyone watched as Hollis filled up a kettle and boiled water for tea. He opened the refrigerator and took out bread, cheese, strawberries, and two ripe mangos. “Is everybody hungry?” he asked. “I think I’ve got enough food.”

Vicki decided to make a fruit salad while Hollis made grilled-cheese sandwiches. She liked standing at the counter and slicing up the strawberries. It was uncomfortable to sit next to Maya. The Harlequin looked exhausted, but she couldn’t seem to relax. Vicki thought that it would be painful to go through life always being ready to kill, always expecting to be attacked. She remembered the letter that Isaac T. Jones had written to his congregation about Hell. There was a real Hell, of course. The Prophet had seen it with his own eyes. But my brothers and sisters, your main concern should be the Hell you create within your own hearts.

“You told me a few things about the Travelers when we were in the van,” Gabriel said to Maya. “But what about the rest of it? Tell me about the Harlequins.”

Maya adjusted the cord on her sword’s carrying case. “Harlequins protect Travelers. That’s all you need to know.”

“Are there leaders and rules? Did someone order you to come to America?”

“No. It was my own decision.”

“But why didn’t your father come with you?”

Maya’s eyes were focused on the salt shaker in the middle of the table. “My father was killed a week ago in Prague.”

“The Tabula did it?” Hollis asked.

“Correct.”

“What happened?”

“That’s not your concern.” Maya’s voice was controlled, but her body was almost rigid with anger. Vicki felt like the Harlequin was ready to jump up and destroy all of them. “I’ve accepted an obligation to protect Gabriel and his brother. When that’s done, I’m going to hunt down the man who killed my father.”

“Did Michael and I have anything to do with this?” Gabriel asked.

“Not really. The Tabula have been hunting my father for most of his life. He was almost killed two years ago in Pakistan.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t waste your emotions,” Maya said. “We feel nothing for the rest of the world and expect nothing in return. When I was a child, my father used to tell me: Verdammt durch das Fleisch. Gerettet durch das Blut. It means: Damned by the flesh. Saved by the blood. Harlequins are condemned to fight a battle without end. But maybe the Travelers will save us from Hell.”

“And how long have they been fighting this battle?” Hollis asked.

Maya pushed the hair away from her face. “My father said that we are an unbroken line of warriors that has lasted for thousands of years. On Passover, he would light candles and read from chapter eighteen in the book of John. After Jesus spends the night in the garden at Gethsemane, Judas shows up with Roman soldiers and officers sent by the chief priest.”