*******
“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up,” was the general sound of the music that woke Quin a few hours later. He opened one eye to see an incredibly cheerful John bending over him, and reached out to swat the hand that was poking his chin.
“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.” John chanted, ignoring Quin’s growls of irritation. If John didn’t shut up soon, he was going to wish he hadn’t decided to jump through the Door so thoughtlessly.
“So, I thought we could poke around for a couple of hours and then make it up to Meriym’s for lunch.” John had moved away from the bed and seemed to be rummaging through the backpack. Quin rolled his eyes as he watched John pull out a toothbrush.
“I want to go to the town hall,” John continued, “and find out where all the people around here are from and why they came and what they all do around here all the time. They must have some kind of economy, right? Which means they must have trade, because as far as I can tell this planet is relatively useless for anything.”
Quin grunted.
“And I know how much you love Meriym,” he turned and raised his eyebrows three times at Quin, “so that would make a nice midday break, and then we can pop through the Door to somewhere else to help us solve our mystery of the missing father.” On the last five words he made his voice deep and dramatic.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Quin sighed. A voice inside his head was calling him stupid repeatedly, for getting himself into this. Now he and John had been gone for over twenty-four hours, and the Committee members had to be having multiple cows simultaneously and then dying so they could roll over their graves. Synchronized, probably. It could be a new sport. Synchronized grave rolling.
He stood. This was good. Soon the blood would start flowing again and he would be… well, awake.
Then someone knocked on the door. His sleepiness immediately vanished as his muscles tensed and his brain called all limbs to action.
“Good morning!” Madam Barooth’s voice called. “I brought you up a breakfast.”
Quin relaxed a little as John went to pull open the door.
“Croissants!” John exclaimed. “And tiny pats of butter! And toast! And jam! This is wonderful! Thank you!”
“You are very welcome. I got it from the best baker in town. We hope you enjoy it and your stay here. Please let me know if you need anything at all.” She turned and closed the door behind her.
John carried the tray over to Quin.
“You can have the boring bread,” he said. “I’ll have these delectable croissants. Mmmm, heavenly.”
Taking a deep breath, Quin ate the two slices of toast in four bites. He then stuffed everything John had pulled out of the backpack back in, and strode towards the door. “Meet me downstairs,” he said tersely, and shut the door behind him.
Madam Barooth was at the front desk. She shrank a little as he stalked forward.
“You have tours of this town?” he asked.
“I can get one for you!” she exclaimed. “Give me five minutes.”
Quin waited in the empty front room of the hotel; John came down a few minutes later.
“I was right,” he said. “That chocolate croissant was positively delectable. Too bad you don’t eat sugar.”
Quin only scowled.
Not a minute later, Madam Barooth scurried back into her hotel. “Timothy will take you around the town. He’s only a teenager, but he knows the history of the town by heart. He’ll be leading us one day, I know it! He’s waiting for you outside.”
“Thanks,” Quin said.
“Hello there!” A boy greeted them as they walked out into the overcast morning. The houses looked just as bright and cheerful as they had the night before, but this morning their radiance had nothing to do with the lights spreading soft rays across them.
“Madam says you want to know a little bit about the town. It’s not very big, so I’ll give you a quick run-down.” Timothy began to walk clockwise around the square. “This building on your left is the town hall. Chosen on the day of the first arrival, the town hall has served as a meeting place, a government foundation, and a place of security to all residents. Beyond that, you will see the armory. This building was chosen less than a week after the first arrival, with the intention of ensuring that the families of all living here would be safe.”
“Excuse me,” John interrupted. “But what do you mean by ‘chosen,’ and what do you mean by ‘arrival?’”
“Well,” the boy replied, “the people here have all come from different places – usually places they wish to avoid. They have come seeking safe refuge. The first group was several families all from different places who came over the Bridge at close to the same time. That is what I meant by ‘arrive.’ And the buildings were here when we arrived. They were empty, of course, or we would not have lived in them, so that is what I mean by ‘chosen.’”
“And when was the first arrival?” John asked.
“It was five years ago today! We are preparing a grand celebration for our five-year anniversary tonight.”
“You say no one was here when you arrived? Have you met any other villages or towns?”
“No, sir. There are other groups of houses and buildings, like this one, but they are all empty, like ours was. We believe that the gods have created this place as a sacred home for our people, safe from the wars that plagued us.”
John clasped his hands behind his back, his features knitting slowly into his thinking face.
“Gods, you say. What else do these gods tell you?”
“The gods provide for us,” Timothy replied, “all that we need. They instruct that we should treat others with care and compassion, that we should love others, and that we should share all knowledge and seek the truth. We should be open-minded and willing to learn from others. That is why it was so hard when all of our books were stolen.”
“Yes, we heard about that.” John pursed his lips. “Does your religion have a name?”
“We call ourselves the Life Stars – life because we believe that were it not for the grace of God, we would not be receiving the gift of life, and stars because we believe he intends for us to venture out into the stars to spread the hope of his name.”
“Life Stars,” Quin repeated. He frowned, remembering the conversation he had heard in the Globe.
“And that temple there – that is where you worship these gods?” John continued.
“Yes, sir.” Timothy smiled. “And all are welcome – please, come tomorrow for our big service!”
“I think we just might, Timothy,” John replied. “I think we just might.”
“May I ask about the wars you mentioned?” Quin asked.
Timothy lowered his voice. “The wars are difficult for many people to discuss. I myself lost my mother and my father. They say there was a great man, or a devil, who entered each of a thousand worlds and gave them the power to take from other worlds. This power consumed many a man and beast, and their struggle to be the greatest led them all to the poor, desolate world of Cadrelle. There, thousands of armies poured forth from other worlds and wrought havoc. They say the sky rained fire and the earth quaked and died. And in punishment, they say the gods took from them their children – first- and second-born, all under the age of twenty. Those that survived came here. They say that no one won the war – they either died or they ran.
“So now, here on this uninhabited planet, we want to start a world that is built on peace, shared knowledge, and compassion. And we want to do it together.”
“That is a chillingly beautiful rendition of a horrible event,” John said.
“Thank you!” A smile blazed across Timothy’s face.
“I think you know where we need to go,” Quin stated quietly.
John nodded and bent down to Timothy’s height.
“Timothy,” he said. “You are one brave kid. Thanks for telling us all of this. We really needed to hear it. Go tell Madam Barooth that we want her to get you one of those delec
table croissants, and tell her we’re leaving for a little while, but we will be back – hopefully with more books.”
An even brighter smile lit Timothy’s face as his young legs flew towards the hotel.
Quin and John silently began the trek back up the hill towards Meriym’s house. About halfway up, John sighed loudly.
“I think we have a serious problem.”
“I agree,” Quin replied. “Let’s go to Cadrelle first and see what we can find out about that war. Lunch isn’t for several hours anyway.”