Tempest Reborn (Jane True #6)

Tempest Reborn (Jane True #6) Page 10

‘Exactly,’ said the monk. ‘We all have a bit of what created the Red and the White. And for those that have more … when the Red and the White appear in our world, it affects those whose natures are more akin to Fire and Air.’

‘I haven’t been paying attention,’ I admitted. ‘We’ve been so busy with everything involving the Red and the White. Have there been things happening?’

‘Oh, yes. Crime on the rise everywhere. Domestic violence ending in murder, in households that were always happy. Brothers slaying brothers; mothers slaying their children. And those are only the individuals. There have been mass lootings and rapes, gangs fighting. Armies mobilizing…’

‘Holy shit,’ I breathed, forgetting there was a real holy person already in the room.

‘Exactly. But this is not the first time in history. The amalgamation of fire and air is, after all, an odd combination, existing in a very small minority of the population. But throughout history, there have been times of such utter madness, when whole civilizations have followed single leaders to their doom, that I cannot help but look for an outside influence.’

‘Hitler?’ I said. I’d asked this before, and been shot down, but I really wanted to blame Hitler for something other than human evil.

‘Perhaps,’ the man said, but with a shake of his head that warned me he wasn’t finished. ‘But that doesn’t erase the individual’s culpability. Someone like Hitler may have allowed himself to be seduced by his worst nature, but he could have resisted. And even if his madness were partially a product of the Red and the White’s interference, not all who followed him could have been susceptible to their powers. The vast majority would have followed of their own volition, because they believed in his insane vision and were swayed by the crowd.’

‘This is all very fascinating,’ Ryu said. ‘But what can we do with this information?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘My friend, Anyan, he was basically body-napped by the White. And we have to get him back.’

The small man watched me, but stayed silent. I wasn’t sure if he was thinking, or waiting, or what. I began to worry he didn’t actually have any answers.

Ryu spoke then, interrupting the quiet. ‘We also have to end this cycle. The Red and the White need to be destroyed for good.’

The man took a sip of his tea, his gaze turned inward in thought.

‘I do have some good news,’ the man said. ‘I think it’s definitely possible to get your friend back.’

I sat bolt upright. ‘You do?’

‘Possible, yes. Probable … that will depend on you. The process will be neither pleasant nor easy.’

‘But if there’s a process, we can handle a process,’ I babbled excitedly. The thought of there being a process was heavenly.

The man chuckled at my excitement before continuing. ‘The answers you seek are actually in your own tradition, those of the West. They lie in your alchemy.’

‘Alchemy?’ I said, startled. ‘Isn’t that about turning stuff into gold?’

‘Yes, and no. For everything in alchemy is a metaphor for something else. So while there was definitely a search for gold, that search was also a metaphor for other things, such as eternal life and the transcendence of the soul.’

‘Oh,’ I said, feeling stupid.

‘We have our own Eastern alchemical traditions, certainly. And we also have our own Shamanic traditions, which deal with the soul and its relationship to the body. But ultimately, our goals in these spheres were different from the goals in the West.’

Ryu nodded sagely, and I tried to imitate him. Then I gave up.

‘How do you know all this?’ I asked.

For just a split second, the monk glowed, that same gentle, golden luminescence that had bathed Grizzie.

‘Oh, my child. There is so much more to our reality. And the universe, despite our intrusions, is self-ordering. It wants balance, and it looks forward.’ The monk’s voice was no longer entirely his own. I shivered.

He continued in that voice that was his, but with something extra. ‘Think of our conversation of essences. The universe knows that the Red and the White should not exist.’

‘They were born of violence,’ I said. ‘They were not born of choice.’

The Red and the White were spawned from Fire’s rape of Air. Fire had always been a very nasty piece of work, as had all of its offspring. One such offspring was responsible for killing all of the creature’s siblings, just because it could. To be born of Fire and created in an act of such violence made the Red and the White what they were today: pure evil.

The man nodded, his glow pulsing as if in agreement. ‘They were cursed by their mother with nothingness. No heart, no empathy, no softness. Their father filled that empty place with his greed, his desire, and a lust for pleasure. From both parents, however, they received tremendous power – too much power. They represent, in all ways, a lack of balance. And so the universe understands, and seeks to redress their influence.’

‘So what does that mean for us?’ Ryu said, getting to the point.

The monk’s glow increased, and his voice was no longer in any way his own. ‘It means that visionaries amongst humans have written about things they, themselves, could not understand, but they knew were important.’

‘Like prophecies?’ I said.

‘Nothing so mundane. They didn’t know what they were writing, or why, and were quite convinced they were writing something else entirely. But their wisdom was guided by something bigger than them, something that knew it would be needed someday.’

The man stood. His body moved upward, and upward … until he was hovering a few inches off the floor. Then he levitated, trailing that golden glow, over to a small table where sat a single book. It looked old, while still having a modern bookbinding. It must have been from around the turn of the last century.

He floated back to our tea service, handing me the book. To my surprise, it was a copy of a text in Greek, older than I had imagined. The words on the page were beautiful, if completely illegible to me, since I didn’t know the Greek alphabet besides the alpha and omega signs.

Then the monk sat down, and his glow faded. He blinked at us owlishly before finding his voice. It was his own again. The universe had gone back to wherever the universe dwells. All around us, I suppose.

‘I’ve given you my Theophrastus,’ the man said, rather unhelpfully, as I stared at the unfamiliar lettering on the spine. I looked at him beseechingly for more help.

‘Your Greek philosophers loved alchemy, and this book contains a certain poem by Theophrastus, one of Aristotle’s students, and a famous alchemist. Once you begin reading, you’ll find that this text involves a set of things that should interest you, including elements, the separation of body from soul, and dragons. Perhaps that’s why I’ve given it to you…’ The monk’s voice trailed off, undoubtedly still unable to explain why we now had the book in our hands.

‘Dragons?’ I asked, prompting him for more.

‘Yes, dragons.’ The man smiled, a wry moue. ‘Those who wrote this text did not entirely know what they were creating. They were pursuing a decisive goal, this one involving the transmutation of base metals to gold. And yet they chose a peculiar metaphor for the idea of chemical change: the dragon. Even stranger, Theophrastus wrote of this process of chemical change as the slaying of a dragon.’

‘Wow,’ I said eloquently.

‘Wow, indeed. And you will be even more “wowed”, as it were, when you read the contents of that article. Theophrastus may not have fully understood what he was writing, but you will. Let his ancient words speak through time, and give you the answers you seek.’

‘I can’t believe it’s that easy,’ I said, almost tearing up while looking at the book. ‘Although we will have to find someone who knows Greek…’

The man shook his head, and this time the gaze he turned on me was full of sadness. ‘It will not be easy, child,’ he said in a gentle voice. ‘First you must interpret the messages hidden in that text. But even more difficult will be the fact you must trust them. For what they will ask for will not be pleasant. What is the phrase used by economists? TINSTAFL?’

‘“There is no such thing as a free lunch”?’ Ryu said.

‘Yes, that’s it. There is no such thing as a free lunch, especially in alchemy. Great sacrifice will be demanded, in return for a great act. You will be asked to do that which you do not want to do, and what you’ll have to do will make no sense. But you must have faith.’

I gulped. I’d never been very good at faith.

‘But if you let the universe guide you, all will be well. Now, drink your tea.’ The old man gave me a fatherly smile, and I sipped at my cold tea obligingly, unthinkingly, my mind awhirl.

Staring down at the book on my knee, I couldn’t help marveling that it would be this easy. Then I remembered how we’d thought facing Morrigan would be easy, and how it had all gone to pot.

So I adjusted my thinking as I drank tea in the presence of one of humanity’s greatest spiritual leaders.