***
Hours later, we were deep in research. My mind was filled to the brim with new information and histories I’d never dreamed of. We were getting all the answers we came for and more.
No, wait. That wasn’t happening at all.
We were still having tea and listening to chanting.
For three hours.
Even Collin was hanging himself with an invisible noose. He’d also stabbed himself with an invisible knife and slit his throat several times with his finger.
He was trying to get me in trouble.
I’d crossed and recrossed my legs four hundred times. I’d snorted the first time Collin made a face of boredom, directed at me. Here I’d thought the Viking was all formal and prim, like Theo. Turns out he was a little bit fun—a little bit. The last time my tailbone hurt this bad, it was from a sealing ceremony. Sealings, or Lucent weddings, took three hours—which was exactly two hours and forty minutes longer than I wanted anything to last.
The monks were still chanting. It was a beautiful sound, even I had to admit. Their voices rose and fell with such spirit and conviction.
The curious monk—curious to me—was missing from the festivities and I wondered why. He was last in line and now was missing from the fun part—and I used the term fun loosely.
Around the third time I’d nodded off, the chanting stopped, but I was only a fool once. The first time they stopped I thought for sure that was the end, but instead it was just one of many rounds. It was merely a pause. This time, several of the monks got up from their sitting positions and began bustling about. Collin got up and we followed his lead. One of the monks ticked his head toward the door, and we took it as our cue to move on. We were wordlessly escorted to a small cabin outside. Its construction mirrored the temple in elegance, but not in grandeur. It was removed from the building, but carried that same air of reverence. It looked to be many years younger than the ancient temple, like it was an afterthought.
We were welcomed by a door swinging open, and inside was the missing monk whose smile indicated he hadn’t been lost at all. The door closed behind us.
“I am Pema,” said a faint and very female voice from the other side of the small hut. We all turned to find that the monk—was not a monk at all. Her voice was all fairy and pixie. She spoke in a tone that was neither hushed nor forced. My face reddened in embarrassment. I needed to be sent to social skills school or something.
Her presence was mysterious, yet alluring.
The close cut hair was there, but as she threw off the confines of her dreary robe, I could see why she’d looked so curious to me, because he wasn’t a he at all. It was a pixie-cut she. She wore a simple brown dress underneath the robe, almost Puritan in nature and form. And her short hair was very becoming on her tiny, thin body. Her eyes were sweet, honest almonds whose corners rose as she smiled with her introduction.
“You are Pema?” I questioned the pint-sized beauty. I thought Pema meant something crucial. I’d gotten into Sherlock Holmes mode, thinking there was always information between the two lines. Plus, I thought the chanting did something to my head—like made my brains mush.
“I think her name is Pema,” Theo corrected and Pema confirmed with a nod of her head.
Know it all.
“Yes. My name is Pema. Thank you, Theo. Collin said you were well-mannered and very kind. I see that he was right.”
Collin was in big trouble. But we didn’t have time for petty reprimands.
Should we know that name? I filtered through what we’d learned thus far but Pema didn’t register. She acted as if we should know who she was.
“I am the great, great granddaughter of Eivan. I live here under the umbrella of the monks. The family was made aware of your search for information from Collin. We discussed it at great length and have decided not to help, as we are on neither side—neither helpful nor hurtful, but to simply offer alternative information.”
I wasn’t aware there were sides in this story.
She stepped, more like danced, to the small rickety table. Several leather bags were there, like Indiana Jones had lost one of his messenger bags.
“What you have been reading so far has been the Synod’s histories. You see, in any culture, place, or race—and in our case, species, there is history. But just like the truth, every person retains their own form of it. What you have been reading was what they chose for you to read. The Synod, just like most groups of powerful collaborates, have their own agenda. And what would an agenda be without the proper evidence?” She began to unshackle each bag and pull books from them. “I won’t tell you my conclusions, my facts, or my take on the Synod and who they really are. You have to determine that for yourself. But these may help you.” In worship, she ghosted her fingers across the covers of the books. “This is our side of the story. These are our written truths. I’ve been given permission to show them to you now. You may study them for three days. After that, they will be taken back to their hiding place.”
She faced us again. Pema had spoken more to the books than to us, so when she turned around, the tears rivering down her face marked the treasure these truths were to her.
Her show of intense emotion amplified my curiosity.
“Theodore,” she continued, laying a hand on his arm. “We have been watching you for some time. Study, learn, and draw your own conclusions.” She began to leave, but he stopped her. “Am I the—am I?”
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “You are. You are the one we’ve been waiting for. Make sure you read and study with that mindset. You are no longer searching for what you are. You are now on a mission to find out the limitations and limitlessness of what being an Eidolon means. As I said before, we have been waiting for you for a very long time.”
Pema made another move to Collin, raising up on her toes to kiss his cheek and then giggling as his scraggly beard tickled her face. She thanked him for keeping us safe and for contacting her. I made a step toward the books, just as curious as the rest, but I was interrupted.
“Colby, may I speak to you in private?” Pema walked out of the door, not even waiting for me to answer. At this point, with her vague and obtuse speeches, I figured she was Eivan’s family, far removed or not so far removed. But her face resembled the other monks. I didn’t suppose she had a genealogy map to feed my interest.
Collin and Theo sat down, still in a discovery trance.
Something about this woman, like Xoana’s stories, called to me.
I followed her out of the cabin. At first I couldn’t find her. I looked around for a minute until I saw the flash, atop a mountain, in the distance—far enough away to give us privacy but not far enough in case danger discovered us. I didn’t hesitate in flashing up to meet her. This was one meeting I looked forward to. I had questions and though I loved to research history as much as Theo, it was nothing like getting firsthand information.
She sat down facing the lowering sun. I hadn’t realized just how long we’d been at the temple. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, as if the conversation we were about to have chafed her somehow.
“I’m sure you have questions first.”
“I do.”
“Go on.”
“Where is Eivan?” I treaded lightly. If there was a time and a place not to step on any toes—this was it. Especially since her toes might be attached to the ass I might one day have to kiss.
“He died of old age at Sevella’s side.”
That revelation made me gasp. Even my lovely stories portrayed his untimely death. Yet, it was still shocking to hear it firsthand.
“We were told he was lost in the fray—dead—murdered.”
Pema shrugged. “All lies perpetrated by our family to protect him.”
I was scared to ask the next question. Though I was always curious about Eivan and what happened to him, my questions were really derivative of my fear for Theo.
“Protect him from what?”
“From your enemies. You h
ave enemies now—whether you have seen them or not. Whatever or whoever you trusted—all of it—consider it all false. I had to see you two together this morning before I revealed our histories. Eidolon is so much more than one person and his abilities. There is no Eidolon without his mate—his female. Collin has kept me informed, but I get the gift of discernment directly from Sevella and often I have to see things with my own eyes before believing. Her discernment kept Eivan alive. “
“Who are our enemies? I have to protect Theo,” I pleaded.
She shook her head. This was it. Pema was just going to be another person posing questions and scenarios, leaving me empty and useless to Theo—the very opposite of what I needed to be. I sat, on the verge of tears, when her hand outstretched and touched my hair.
Almighty, please let her give me the answers—something.
“You have lovely hair. I couldn’t have chosen to hide amongst royalty. No, I loved Tibet.”
We laughed at her offhand comment. It was sarcasm—but underneath and in her brown eyes, a hint of sadness lay. I gathered that my previous question would remain unanswered. But I needed information, so I pressed forward.
“Is there a time when you won’t have to hide?”
“When the keyhole is finally locked.”
“Huh?” Not the most proper response. But I couldn’t take it back.
“There are things best not said out loud. I can tell you of one of your enemies. He will be the closest enemy and the one most dangerous to you and Theo. He will claw at you, flare dissention among those you trust and push you away at all costs. You mustn’t let him get between you. This will be your most difficult job as his mate.”
“Who?” I almost begged, shifting to a kneeling position, ready to grovel on my hands and knees if I must. If this person was going to try and separate me from protecting Theo—I’d die in order to stop him.
“Theo.”
“What?”
“You’ve heard the stories of Eivan going mad with his own power?”
“Yes.”
“Some of that is truth. But it wasn’t his power that betrayed him, it was the voices of those he was meant to guide. His life has meaning beyond just vacations and transportation means.”
I loved this female for everything she was trying to help me with. But so help me, if one more person spoke to me in cryptic riddles, I would go ape-shit.
“Please, just this one thing. Tell me plainly. Tell me how to help him in English and without hurdles to jump through.”
She chuckled at my crass plea.
“Love him. Care for him. Put his needs before your own. Be the mate you are destined to be. The Synod hasn’t been on your heels for piddly reasons. There’s always more at stake with them—nothing is simple. It is the only way to bring him down from the heavens when his head has gone too far away. Be—his—mate.”
I hefted out a heavy breath—laden with self-depreciating emotions. Being his mate wasn’t as easy as it seemed. I was a selfish person—always had been. I was a willful, spoiled child and had come to realize I was even more of a rude, willful, spoiled woman. I was so self-involved, my own reflection checked herself out. I flashed for my own satisfaction and monetary gain when I could be helping people. I treated my entire life like one big vacation.
But for Theo I would give it all away.
I could become what he needed.
I would carve out my heart and offer it to him if it would help him.
The time to grow up and leave the spoiled child behind had come and gone.
“I can do that.”
She laughed. “I know you can. I watched your love this morning. Take care of him.”
Pema sighed and shrugged. I took it our little chat was finished. There was so much more I needed to know, but I had a feeling she’d given me all she wanted me to have.
“Hey, how can you travel with someone else without losing them?”
She shrugged, got up from her perch and wiped off her backside. “Don’t let go.”
“So all the others, who travelled with those they loved?”
She wrapped her arm around my shoulder like we were old friends. “I can’t answer for them. All I can say is that not letting go works.”
“What about the weight?”
“That’s all up here.” She tapped lightly on my temple. “Mind over matter.”