The Traveler

47

Maya took a wrong turn in the desert and got lost looking for the abandoned missile base. It was late in the day by the time she found the barbed-wire fence and the broken gate.

She felt comfortable wearing dark custom-tailored clothing, but that would have drawn attention in this environment. While she was in Las Vegas, she had gone to a Salvation Army store and bought drawstring pants, skirts, and tops-nothing too tight around the shoulders and legs. That afternoon, Maya was wearing a cotton pullover and a pleated skirt-like something a British schoolgirl would wear. On her feet were steel-toed mechanic’s shoes, very effective when used with a roundhouse kick.

She got out of the van, slung the sword carrying case over her shoulder, and then glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. That was a mistake. Her tangled black hair looked like a bird’s nest. It doesn’t matter, Maya thought. I’m just here to protect him. She marched over to the gate, hesitated, and then felt compelled to return to the van. Maya was furious-almost shouting with rage-as she brushed her hair. Fool, she thought. Bloody fool. You’re a Harlequin. He doesn’t care about you. When she was done, she threw the brush into the van with an angry flick of the wrist.

The desert air was getting cooler and dozens of king snakes were out, slithering across the asphalt road. Because no one was watching her, she drew the sword and kept it ready in case one of the reptiles got too close. This acknowledgment of her own fear was even more frustrating than the incident with the hairbrush. They’re not dangerous, she told herself. Don’t be a coward.

All these angry thoughts disappeared as she approached the little trailer parked beside the windmill. Gabriel was sitting at the picnic table beneath the parachute sunscreen. When he saw her, he stood up and waved. Maya studied his face. Did he look different? Had he changed? Gabriel smiled as if he’d just come back from a long journey. He looked glad to see her again.

“It’s been nine days,” he said. “I started to worry about you when you didn’t show up last night.”

“Martin Greenwald sent me a message through the Internet. He hadn’t heard from Sophia, so he thought everything was all right.”

The trailer door popped open. Sophia Briggs came out with a plastic pitcher and some cups. “And everything is all right at this particular moment. Good afternoon, Maya. Welcome back.” Sophia placed the pitcher on the table and looked at Gabriel. “Did you tell her?”

“No.”

“He crossed the four barriers,” she told Maya. “You’re defending a Traveler.”

At first Maya felt vindicated. All the sacrifice had been worthwhile to defend a Traveler. But then much darker possibilities pushed through her mind. Her father was right: the Tabula had become too powerful. Eventually they would find Gabriel and then he would be killed. Everything she had done-finding this person, bringing him to the Pathfinder-had only pulled him closer to destruction.

“That’s wonderful,” Maya said. “This morning I was in contact with my friend in Paris. Our spy told him that Michael has also crossed over.”

Sophia nodded. “We knew the news before you did. Gabriel saw him just before he left the fire barrier.”

AS THE SUN went down, the three of them sat beneath the parachute and drank powdered lemonade. Sophia offered to make dinner, but Maya rejected the idea. Gabriel had stayed here too long and it was time to leave. Sophia picked up a stray king snake coiling beneath the table and carried it over to the silo. When she returned, she looked tired and a little sad.

“Goodbye, Gabriel. Come back here if you can.”

“I’ll try.”

“In ancient Rome, when a great general came back from a successful war, they would parade him in triumph through the streets of the city. First would come the armor of the men he had killed and the standards he had taken, and then the captive soldiers and their families. Next came the general’s army and his officers and, finally, the great man himself in a golden chariot. One servant would guide the horses while another stood behind the victor and whispered in his ear: ‘You are mortal. You are a mortal man.’”

“Is that a warning, Sophia?”

“A journey into the realms doesn’t always teach compassion. A Cold Traveler is a person who has taken the wrong path. They use their power to bring more suffering into the world.”

MAYA AND GABRIEL returned to the van, then followed the two-lane road that cut across the desert. Lights from the city of Phoenix glowed on the western horizon, but the sky above them was clear and they could see a three-quarter moon and the bright haze of the Milky Way.

As Maya drove, she explained her plan. Right now they needed money, a safe place to hide, and multiple forms of false identification. Linden was sending American dollars to contacts in Los Angeles. Hollis and Vicki were still there and it would be good to have allies.

“Don’t call them allies,” Gabriel said. “They’re friends.”

Maya wanted to tell Gabriel that they couldn’t have friends-not really. He was her principal obligation. She could risk her life for only one person. Gabriel’s main responsibility was to avoid the Tabula and survive.

“They’re friends,” he repeated. “You understand that. Don’t you?”

She decided to change the subject. “So what was it like?” Maya asked. “How did it feel to cross the barriers?”

Gabriel described the endless sky, the desert, and the vast ocean. Finally he told her about seeing his brother in the burning church.

“And did you speak to him?”

“I tried to, but I was already in the passageway. By the time I got back, Michael had disappeared.”

“Our spy with the Tabula says that your brother has been very cooperative.”

“You don’t know if that’s true. He’s just trying to survive.”

“It’s more than survival. He’s helping them.”

“And now you’re worried that he’ll become a Cold Traveler?”

“It might happen. A Cold Traveler is someone who’s been corrupted by power. They can cause a great deal of destruction in this world.”

They drove in silence for another ten miles. Maya kept glancing in the rearview mirror, but no one was following them.

“Do the Harlequins protect Cold Travelers?”

“Of course not.”

“Do you kill these people?”

The Traveler’s voice sounded different and Maya turned to look at him. Gabriel was staring at her with a sharp intensity in his eyes.

“Do you kill these people?” he repeated.

“Sometimes. If we can.”

“You’d kill my brother?”

“If that was necessary.”

“And what about me? Would you kill me?”

“All this is just speculation, Gabriel. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“Don’t lie to me. I can see your answer.”

Maya gripped the steering wheel, not daring to look at him. One hundred yards ahead of them, a black shape darted across the road and disappeared into the weeds.

“I have this power, but I can’t control it,” Gabriel whispered. “I can speed up my perceptions for a moment and see everything clearly.”

“You can see whatever you want, but I’m not going to lie to you. If you became a Cold Traveler, I’d kill you. It would have to be that way.”

The cautious solidarity between them, their pleasure at seeing each other, had disappeared. In silence, they traveled down the empty road.