Journey Into the Flame (20 page)

“I certainly can’t deny that Logan described the same image I saw on the top of the desk,” Valerie conceded. “Maybe you saw it when the two of you were in the basement and your subconscious registered it. I’m not an expert in all this esoteric stuff. But yes, you certainly have my attention now.”

“While you were gone, Logan relayed to me the last part of his adventure,” Mr. Perrot said. “It had to do with the notes I told you about earlier. About the letters Camden Ford wrote to a man he called Baté Sisán.”

Valerie was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Let’s say that there’s some validity to your story and that Andrea and Simon are somehow involved. There is still no evidence that links them to the murders. I’ll consider bringing them in for questioning, but these are powerful people, and it’s a safe bet that they are not going to cooperate. We also have to consider the possibility that the Sentinel Coterie may somehow be involved. We saw Randolph Fenquist speaking with Cynthia’s assistant Monique Sato at the banquet. He slipped her something, but we couldn’t make out what it was.”

“The Sentinel Coterie! They are nothing more than a group of thugs.” Mr. Perrot seemed uncustomarily upset. “Randolph is a man with an anarchist agenda and no one to listen to him. These events are far beyond his vision or execution. It is Simon and Andrea, I am certain of it! The murder of Logan’s parents and the murder of the Council members are somehow linked to Simon and Andrea’s desire to possess all four of the original copies of the
Chronicles.
Why, I cannot say. I only know that we need to draw them out.”

“Draw them out with what?” Valerie said. “We don’t have anything to use as bait.”

There was a long silence. Mr. Perrot could only shake his head.

“Actually, I think I might have some bait,” Logan said. Valerie and Mr. Perrot both looked at him curiously. “There’s one last part of my
candle journey that I haven’t told you about. I found myself at a wedding.” He stopped and looked directly at Mr. Perrot. “It was the wedding of the Magician and the Scholar.”

“The magician and the what?” Valerie said. “What are you talking about?”

Logan continued to look at Mr. Perrot. “I think there’s something your father needs to tell us,” he said to Valerie.

21

Who are you when you believe that no one is watching you? Who are you when the eyes of the world look elsewhere? It is at that moment, your true inner character is on display.

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

WASHINGTON, D.C., 1:00 P.M. LOCAL TIME,

4 DAYS UNTIL FREEDOM DAY

Adisa Kayin closed the door to the most revered room in the Council of Satraya building. The curtains at the large windows in the second-floor meeting room were half-drawn in an attempt to diffuse the sunlight that was streaming in. As the eldest member of the Council, he now assumed its leadership. Modest in stature and attired in the colorful garments of his homeland in Africa, Mr. Kayin took a seat at the famous Egalitarian Round Table, where the eight remaining Council members were already seated. As indicated by the name, the grand table’s construction was inspired by the Arthurian legends of the past. Its circular shape conveyed that all who sat around it would be heard, and twelve of its thirteen pillar-shaped legs represented the twelve members of the Council. The thirteenth leg represented the benevolent beings that have assisted humanity throughout the ages.

Logan, Mr. Perrot, and Valerie occupied the chairs of the three slain Council members.

“At this table, all are equal,” Mr. Kayin stated, making the solemn promise with which each Council meeting began. “We are here at the request of Ms. Perrot, the lead agent in charge of the investigation into the murders of our late colleagues. Late last night, she contacted me and relayed that there was urgent news that might give us a spark of hope. We do not know what you will say, Ms. Perrot, but we hope that your words will shift the direction of the ill wind that has blown upon us.” He looked at each of his fellow members. “I thank you for attending on such short notice. So please—”

Mr. Kayin was abruptly interrupted by the sound of something hitting one of the windows. Valerie rose from her chair, placing her right hand on her holstered weapon, and cautiously walked over to the window to assess the situation. A few of the Council members sank to the ground. Recent events had put them on guard.

“Looks like the Coterie is causing trouble again,” Valerie said as she placed a call on her PCD. “Please remain seated until we get the situation outside under control.”

Logan could feel the lugubrious atmosphere in the room. He saw the fear and uncertainty in the eyes of the five women and four men who now made up the Council, and he watched as Mr. Kayin attempted to comfort them. It was hard to accept that this sad and frightened group of people was what was left of the once brilliant and robust Council that had helped the world rebuild after the Great Disruption. Logan walked over to Valerie, who was still talking on her PCD. Through the window, he could see the radical Sentinel Coterie members in front of the building, waving banners and placards and shouting obscenities. “If Randolph Fenquist is with them, arrest him,” Logan heard Valerie say. He lingered at the window, trying to figure out what had been thrown at it. He saw no hints, however, and he eventually returned to his seat next to Mr. Perrot, who had remained calm during the fracas. Valerie finished her call, drew the curtains shut, and motioned to Mr. Kayin that it was fine to resume.

“As you can see, this is a very trying time for us,” Mr. Kayin said. “Let us continue. Please relay to us your important news.”

Mr. Perrot was the first to speak.
“ ‘Many have traveled before you, yet none has walked the exact same path as you. But there is a common aspiration that brings us together. We all have questions about the life we are living, about the choices we have made. We all have questions about why the world is the way it is. We all have questions about what we are supposed to do.’ ”

The Council members seemed to perk up. Mr. Perrot was reciting verbatim from the opening pages of
The Chronicles of Satraya.

He continued:
“ ‘All things happen for a reason and a grand purpose. We have come to you during a time of great confusion and struggle in your world. We have done so in the past, and we are here again to help you through your troubled times. We are not here to make you believe in something different. We are not here to convince you that you are wrong. We are here to remind you of a great truth you have forgotten. We are here to provide you with a path. We are here strictly for you. We are here to set you free.’ ”

The room was silent. The Council members weren’t the only ones captivated by the words; Logan and Valerie were, too. Their parents had read passages from the
Chronicles
to them when they were growing up, but this was different. Perhaps it was the passage’s relevance to the precarious situation they faced, or perhaps it was Mr. Perrot himself, his expressive voice and the noble spirit with which he spoke. Whatever the reason, Mr. Perrot now had complete command of the Egalitarian Round Table.

“These words are as true today as they were when my dear friends Camden and Cassandra Ford first read them to me from the books Camden found in the forest,” he announced.

A murmur of voices rippled through the room. Until that moment, the Council members had only heard Cynthia Brown claim to have been a friend of Camden and Cassandra.

“You were friends with Camden and Cassandra?” a member asked incredulously.

“Where are they now?” another asked. “What happened to them? Are they still alive?”

Tension filled the room as they waited for an answer to the question people all over the world had been asking for the last thirty years.

Mr. Perrot shook his head. “Sadly, my dearest friends are no longer with us. Their fate is part of the story I am about to tell.”

“Is this the news you wanted to bring us?” a member asked, clearly let down. “The spark of hope is that you can confirm that Camden and Cassandra are dead?” An air of disappointment filled the room, compounding the hopelessness reflected on the faces of the Council members.

“How can we be certain you were close to them?” another member asked. “According to Cynthia, Camden had very few trusted friends. Cynthia never mentioned anyone by your name.”

“That is because Cynthia did not know the complete truth of that time,” Mr. Perrot said.

“Are you calling her a liar?” someone else asked. The rest of the members started defending Cynthia; a few had started shouting.

“Silence, please,” Mr. Kayin said in a loud voice. “Silence,” he repeated as the members came back to order. “Let us allow Mr. Perrot to continue. Let us see if he is able to answer our questions satisfactorily.”

Logan saw that Mr. Perrot, calm as ever, did not seem perturbed by the Council members’ doubts.

“This table at which you all sit, the Egalitarian Round Table, possesses a secret,” Mr. Perrot said. “A secret known only to those who helped construct it.” He paused briefly, allowing anyone who wanted to refute him to speak up. No one did. “As we all can see, this table is supported by thirteen legs. But one of those legs has a flaw. It was made from a piece of uncured wood, and as it dried, it shrank ever so slightly, a single millimeter. A sheet of paper can be slipped beneath this particular leg.”

Mr. Kayin wasted no time and tore a sheet of paper from his notebook. As the other Council members watched, he walked counterclockwise around the table and attempted to slide the sheet of paper under each leg. “That’s the one,” Mr. Perrot said when Mr. Kayin reached the eighth leg.

Mr. Kayin easily slid the paper beneath it just as Mr. Perrot had predicted. He looked at Mr. Perrot, dumbfounded. “How could you know this?”

The other members of the Council also looked shocked.

“Because, my friends,” Mr. Perrot said as he stood, a solemn expression on his face, “I am Robert Tilbo. I was the young man Camden saved from the Forgotten Ones all those years ago and one of the original members of the Council of Satraya. And sitting next to me here is Camden and Cassandra’s son, Logan Ford. This is the news we wished to bring you. This is the news that should bring you hope.”

The silence in the room was almost deafening. Everyone stared at Logan. There were no murmurs, no side conversations. This was the information Logan had coaxed out of Mr. Perrot after returning from his candle vision. Logan had seen the faces of the Magician and the Scholar and also the face of the man handing them their rings at the wedding. They were faces Logan easily recognized. The Magician was Logan’s father, the Scholar was his mother, and the ring bearer was Mr. Perrot himself.

“Why, that’s me over there in that picture on the wall,” Mr. Perrot said, pointing to a framed photograph and releasing some of the tension in the room. Everyone looked at the picture. “Much younger and a bit better-looking back then, I’m afraid.” A smile came to his face.

“My fellow Council members,” Mr. Kayin said as he retook his seat at the table. “I believe that this man is who he says he is. Let us give him our undivided attention.”

22

If all the world is a stage, are you satisfied with the supporting role that you are playing? Or is it time, perhaps, to take the leading role?

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

WASHINGTON, D.C., 2:12 P.M. LOCAL TIME,

4 DAYS UNTIL FREEDOM DAY

“Esteemed Council members,” Mr. Perrot began, “the events of the last few days have certainly shaken our lives and the lives of people all around the world who continue to understand the value of
The Chronicles of Satraya
and their place in history. I know that some of you must be wondering why Logan auctioned off his father’s set of the
Chronicles
and why I did not bring him forward sooner. The answers to these questions and many more lie in the past and concern a secret power struggle that occurred within the first Council of Satraya. Before I continue, I must have your assurances that the information I am about to impart will not go beyond this esteemed group. There may come a day when the world can know the complete true history of the Council, but for now, it must remain between us.” Mr. Perrot paused for a moment as, one by one, each member of the Council acknowledged his or her promise with the traditional tapping of the right hand on the chest three times.

Satisfied, he continued. “The splintering of the original Council of Satraya was said to have occurred because members had grown weary of
their work, and stress had taken its toll on them. At a Council meeting in late November 2037, the members decided it was time to return to their homes, and the Council’s responsibilities were handed over to a capable young woman named Cynthia Brown. Her leadership and vision guided the Council for the next thirty years, and we most certainly honor her for that achievement. But I say to you now that the recorded history is in error. There was a more sinister reason behind the Council’s splintering. At the center of that pivotal event were Camden Ford and Fendral Hitchlords.”

Mr. Perrot took a sip of water and went on to explain what had really taken place all those years ago, including the recent details he had gleaned from the notes Camden had left behind. “Even though the Council did not operate under the authority of any government, Fendral and Andrea Montavon wanted the Council to wield a powerful political sword. Essentially, they wanted to turn it into an organization that enforced supranational laws. It would have allowed them to act with impunity as they amassed power over humanity. They masked their true motives with the reasoning that the sovereignty of the
Chronicles
should be guarded at all costs, that no one nation should ever claim authority over the books’ philosophies. While Camden agreed that the
Chronicles
belonged to all people, he was not prepared to endow the Council with so much power over people’s lives. He feared that Fendral and Andrea would twist the Council’s ideals into a means of repression and control that would benefit a select few. Camden did not want the
Chronicles
to become the cornerstone of some new oppressive religion or one-world government. We only have to look at history to see the danger that Simon and Andrea posed.”