The Orchard of Hope (13 page)

Chapter

Eight

Reality In Bites

Nicholas had spent a week learning
to see into another room with his mind, find an object, and then
carry it for a short distance without actually touching it. It was
a bizarre sensation because Nicholas felt as if he were in the
other place while he was still sitting with Moss. It was sort of
like the way a book transports a reader to another place, but
Nicholas was having an effect on the dream world in which he saw
himself. It was work, but it was also fun.

The lessons had
started with very small objects, like buttons, and then worked up
to bigger things. He was now carrying small pillows, but nothing
over two pounds in weight. The heavier the object, the more it
strained him mentally, so he did these practice sessions for short
periods several times a day with a good rest in between. The
lessons had gotten progressively more difficult as the objects had
gotten larger and heavier and the distance greater. He was also
learning
to carry things that would
normally hurt him, like the fire lizard. At the end of the week,
Nicholas could move pieces of dried
fruit
and entire melons across the castle kitchen and drop the
bits of food into Newton
’
s mouth for the
gargoyle
’
s
afternoon snack. Newton was disappointed when Moss decided to move
onto the next lesson.

“He could use
some practice carrying bacon or turkey legs
—
or bacon wrapped turkey legs. I
don
’
t think
he
’
s carried
meat of any kind,
”
Newton argued with Moss.

“He
doesn
’
t need to
carry meat. If he can carry fruit or pillows, he can certainly
carry meat,
”
Moss replied.

“Meat is dense,
so it
’
s more of
challenge.
”

“You
’
re
dense. You
’
re made of
stone.
”

“But I
’
m not delicious. We also
don
’
t know if
he can carry something like a cheeseburger without eating it. He
needs to know how to resist temptation. It
’
s a useful
skill.
”

“Fruit is
delicious enough
,
”
Moss replied dismissively.

“Not as
delicious as meat,
”
Newton mumbled.

“Why are gargoyles such
carnivores?” Moss asked no one in particular. Newton answered him,
anyway.

“Because we’re created to protect
from evil. Evil is not light, airy or fruity. So, in a manner of
speaking, you could say that being carnivorous is in our genetic
makeup. Therefore, when you think about it, having Nicholas
transport some meat into my mouth would be good practice for both
of us, since I need to stay in shape to fight evil.”

“We have too
many lessons to spend another week on this one,” Moss replied.
“Besides, it takes a lot more effort to master reality than being
present.
”

“Is that
possible with the sorcerer
’
s spell?
”
Nicholas
asked.

“Anything is a
possibility, and never let anyone tell you otherwise. Our job is to
make the possibility a reality,
”
and as Moss said that, Nicholas noticed the tags
hanging on the outside of Moss' garments. The labels said,
“
Made in Wonderland
”
in a swirling
script.

“Sir,
”
Nicholas said as he looked over the bulky seams
running down the outside of
Moss' sleeves.
“
I think you may be wearing your
clothes inside out.
”

“Thank you, but
I
’
m not,
”
Moss replied. Nicholas began to
wonder if this was part of the lesson on reality and if Moss was
creating the illusion that his clothes were inside out when Moss
added,
“
If the
tags belonged on the inside they would make them so that they
don
’
t
chafe.
”
Nicholas was about to respond when Newton whispered to
him.

“Just be glad
that he
’
s
wearing clothes,
”
the gargoyle said. Nicholas nodded and decided to drop the
subject. He turned back to Moss.

“How am I going
to master reality?
”
Nicholas
asked
.
“
Everything here seems
real.
”

“This is the
castle. It
’
s
grounded,
”
Moss
explained.
“
But
under the sorcerer
’
s spell, there are stories that are real and there are
things we experience and feel that aren
’
t real. Words can be real or
unreal, and so can physical and emotional things. So how do you
tell the difference?
”

Nicholas could
tell that this was going to be a difficult lesson, and he
wasn
’
t sure
Moss was the best one to be teaching it. Moss couldn’t even dress
himself.

“Do you know
how to tell the difference?
”
Nicholas asked cautiously.

“I asked you
first,
”
Moss
said in a biting tone.

“Isn
’
t it your job to tell me?
You
’
re the
teacher.
”

“If I tell you
everything, then you
’
ll never learn.
”

Nicholas paused. He felt like he
was arguing with a child. He knew Moss was a little odd, but during
the past week, he had been a good teacher. Now Nicholas felt that
Moss was refusing to teach.

“I don’t know how to tell the
difference,” Nicholas admitted, hoping this tactic would spur Moss
to teach him.

“Exactly!” Moss nodded with
approval. “And that’s the first step to learning: admitting what
you don’t know.”

Nicholas hesitated before speaking.
He thought Moss’ manner was making this lesson even more difficult.
He stood silent and looked to Newton for guidance. Since the
gargoyle was also sitting still and waiting, Nicholas decided to
imitate him and sat quietly. After about 10 minutes, which seemed
longer, Moss finally continued.

“You know that the number of
moments is endless.”

“Yes,” Nicholas agreed.

“And the number of perceived
realities is also endless.”

Nicholas thought for a moment.
“Yes,” he replied as he scratched his ankle, waiting for Moss to
continue.

“And if you can be present in
multiple potential realities at one time, then you could determine
which ones contradict one another and eliminate them, thus leaving
you with the answer as to which one is the true
reality.”

“This sounds very
difficult.”

“If it were easy, anyone could do
it,” Moss shrugged.

“Can you do it?” Nicholas
asked.

“I am more
grounded in reality than anyone around here,” Moss said with
authority. Nicholas first looked at Newton’s stoic expression and
then at Moss. He wished Megan were here for the lesson, but she was
meeting with the king on other business. Moss was certainly smart,
but Nicholas wasn’t sure about his connection to reality. However,
with the sorcerer’
s
spell, there was no way to know what was real and what
wasn’t. Maybe Moss did know something and it just appeared odd to
those still under the spell.

“Where do we start?” Nicholas
asked.

“We begin by learning to scry,”
Moss replied. He stood up and walked over to a long counter with
various bottles and tubes piled haphazardly around a sink. He
selected a shallow stone basin, filled it with water from the sink,
and then carefully carried it back to the table where Nicholas and
Newton were sitting. Nicholas stared through the water at the
bottom of the greenish blue stone bowl. The stone was marbled with
swirls of deeper green and black, and these reflected into the
water. Moss pushed up the purple sleeves on his robe and then
rotated the bowl in three half turns. “Do you see anything in the
water?” Moss asked. “Anything at all?”

“I see the bottom of the bowl,”
Nicholas replied.

“Excellent!
That’s a fine start!” Moss exclaimed. Nicholas sat back and stared
at the delighted expression on Mos
s'
face for a minute, wondering
if Moss was joking with him, but then he caught a glimpse of Newton
discretely shaking his head and Nicholas took the
hint.

“Are there things I should see in
the bottom of the bowl?” Nicholas inquired.

“No, but the fact that you can see
anything at all is good. Now, grasp the sides of the bowl and turn
it, just as I did a few moments ago.”

Nicholas copied
Mos
s'
actions
and rotated the bowl three half turns. He looked up at Moss before
continuing.

“Is it always three turns?”
Nicholas asked.

“So observant!” Moss exclaimed
with delight. “Three turns is what works for me, but different
people have different numbers. I like three because that’s the
number of atoms in a molecule of water.” He waited for Nicholas to
ask him a question, but when Nicholas remained silent, he
continued. “Sometimes sorcery is more effective when you include
aspects of the chemical structure of your tools, but not everyone
is quite so scientific.”

“Do I need to learn chemistry?”
Nicholas asked. He hadn’t been back to the Academy of Miracles for
the start of the school year, and he was dreading the thought of a
science class.

“Of course not. You only need
knowledge if you want to be really good.”

“But there are different types of
knowledge. For example, I’m good with plants and biology. Couldn’t
I just study that?” Nicholas asked hopefully.

“When you limit your knowledge,
you limit your options.”

“True,” Newton jumped in.
“Gargoyles are avid readers. We love books. After all, there’s not
much to do when you’re sitting on top of a building for centuries
at a time.”

“That’s lovely, Newton,” Moss said
dismissively and then turned back to Nicholas. “If you’re going to
be in different types of situations in your life, you will need
different types of knowledge to navigate them successfully. But we
can discuss that another time. Look back into the water again and
turn the bowl the number of times that seems right to
you.”

Nicholas stared down at the bowl
and then firmly placed his hands on the edges. He lowered his face
to where it was almost touching the surface and he could smell the
minerals in the water. It smelled slightly of iron and other things
that Nicholas recognized but couldn’t identify by name. The
fragrance was musty and reminded him of a cellar.

As he held his face slightly above
the water’s surface, he had the sudden urge to touch the water, so
he slowly dipped the very tip of his nose just below the surface.
The water was icy, and Nicholas quickly pulled his head up. He
alertly focused on the surface. As he did, he watched five rings in
the water where his nose had touched it drift from the center of
the bowl outward to the edge. The number sounded right to him, and
so Nicholas very firmly made five half turns of the basin, staring
into the surface expectantly. At the end of the fifth turn he
thought he saw a tiny cloud in the water, as if a drop of milk had
fallen into it and then dissipated as it became diluted.

“What did you see?” Moss
asked.

“Nothing,” Nicholas
replied.

“Nothing at all? Or nothing of
importance? Because there’s a huge difference.”

“Nothing of
importance.”

“Good!” Moss exclaimed. It
apparently didn’t take much to make the sorcerer happy. “What
nothing did you see?”

“It was a cloud – just a tiny one,
the size of a drop. But then it went away, so it didn’t seem to be
very much of anything or very important.”

“Not important?” Moss exclaimed,
then repeated. “Not important?” Then he laughed.

“What was it?”

“Time,” Moss
repl
ied. “You saw a fraction of a
moment, but the amount doesn’t matter. It’s what you saw that’s
important.”