The Rivening

Intervention

Before meeting with Arden the next day, Connie went to make a photocopy of her mother's notebook for him. However, it wasn't sitting on the shelf where she was sure she'd left it. She tore her office apart and futilely broadened her search while reaching an unavoidable conclusion.

Grayson. He was the only person who had been inside her house since she found the notebooks. The last time he came, he left by the front door saying he was using the bathroom on his way out. How would he explain taking it? He would know she could easily piece together that he took it.

Connie rummaged around in the papers where the notebook had been and uncovered the notepad where she copied the few paragraphs trying to make out her mother's increasingly shaky handwriting. Below the notepad, was the odd poem-like note from Findley. She copied both for Arden so he could study the words for himself. At least Grayson hadn't found Findley's note.

This morning, Arden exuded more of a healthier, vigorous glow. "Oh good. You brought papers. Ida's notebook?"

"No, only some parts. I think Grayson took the notebook."

Arden scowled, "What? Who's Grayson? Why would he take it?"

"Grayson was a colleague of Findley's. I'm not sure what's going on with him. He's looking for information and I guess somehow thought my mother's notebook might hold some clues. I don't know what's going on, but I don't like it. I need to confront him."

Arden sat back, "This is troubling. Be very careful what you say to him. What are the papers you brought?"

Connie extended the papers to Arden. "Here. I made copies for you."

"No. You read it to me. I'm out of practice."

"Out of practice?"

"We don't do reading and writing like you do. I learned a little for my Earthside journeys but that was long ago."

"What do you mean, exactly, you don't do reading and writing like we do?"

"We don't have books, the written word, like you have. We can talk about this later. Please just read me what you have."

Connie shook her head. "It's the last couple of paragraphs from Ida's notebook. Her writing was so shaky, when I read the notebook, I copied it to help me figure out what she wrote." She read.

I'm so sorry for all this vagueness and maybe I shouldn't have attempted to write anything at all, but you have special gifts. They come from him and the special place that is his home. You should know that they are from him and not feel like there is anything wrong with you. All these years I've harboured a small hope that one day Arden might be able to return. He won't find me, but hopefully he would find you.

If he does, welcome him into your life. He was the most wonderful person I ever knew. You'll recognize him as you have his eyes. And finally, dearest Connie, it may be difficult, but I believe you hold the ability in you to some day find the way to his home.

Connie watched the sadness sweep over Arden. "Are you all right?"

"No." He shook his head and placed his hand on his heart. "But I'm happy to feel her. Here. It's a gift how much you sound like her."

"It means Grayson knows you have heterochromia too."

"Yes, but I'm not worried about that. Though heterochromia, especially like ours, is rare on Earthside, it's not unheard of. Milo told me, she believes you have some signaling ability."

Arden looked intently at Connie. "No one Earthside has had that for thousands of years. It's even rare in Dahria now. Ida writes of your gifts. Did she mention what those might be earlier in her notebook?"

"No. What do you mean signaling? The trances?"

Arden nodded.

Connie continued, "It was only here where she wrote 'gifts,' plural, that I understood I could have something more from you. And only recently I thought it might be the trances."

"Ida knew about your trances?"

"Before feeling them in the ravine these last few months, they only happened a few times in Ireland at the same place. Once when I was nine. My mother saw those. And then again when I was 22, with Findley. He had me take him to where I felt them when I was nine."

Arden looked worried. "I see. No one else knows about that?"

"No, we were alone. It was a little away from his dig. Arden, how did you find out about me?"

"A couple of years ago, one of the Dahrians then in Toronto went to a social of the archaeology department and met you. She was a friend of Eneko's. She saw your eyes and the family resemblance and spoke with you for a while. Found out who you were, including your birthday. When she came back. It was easy to fit the pieces together."

Arden gazed at Connie. "Oh child - I know you don't want me to call you that - but you are my child. It so weighs on me that I didn't know about you. That I missed your childhood. And that I didn't bring you to Dahria after Ida died. Oh and that I wasn't here for her." Arden exhaled raggedly and saw Connie had more paper. "You have something else to read?"

"It's a note Findley left for me. It fell out of the field notes he hid. He was struggling with his Alzheimer's I imagine. I don't understand it, but I thought it might mean something to you. It starts with a type of hieroglyphic that he used for me, a flaming sword. Long story, I'll explain some other time:

[Flaming sword glyph] –

I hope you find it

I kept it from you

It was wrong

It made me sad

I loved her

She loved him more

He used her

I used you

I was used

Find the opening

Guard it, Jophiel

Arden said, "He loved her."

"Findley was besotted. I understood that later. He wouldn't have liked reading that you were the most wonderful person my mother ever knew. Reading this again, I wonder if he kept her notebook from me because he was, I don't know, maybe jealous of you. Didn't want to risk dividing my loyalties to him."

"Why didn't he, then throw it away, get rid of it?"

"That would have felt sacrilegious to him. I think he tried to figure out a way for me to find it after he died. Which he did. Though it was hardly a foolproof plan."

"I'm wondering if maybe he was going to give you her notebook when he took you to Ireland and then rereading it something twigged for him about your signaling when you were little. And then he brought you to the Ireland passage."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on. These trances I do. The signaling. It points to passages to Dahria?"

"Yes"

"There's a passage to Dahria in the ravine?" Connie sat back. "Of course, you're saying that's how you got here. And there's one there in Ireland."

"It's probably closed now. That was the plan. Have you spoken to Grayson or anyone about your trances?"

"No one but you and the others in your house. Unless someone else has been watching me in the ravine."

Arden motioned toward the house, "They've made sure that wasn't happening."

"We brought the lithograph," a voice called from the passageway beside Connie's house.

Connie jerked her head and saw Ainsley and James striding toward her and the open gate. Arden stood-up and stepped quickly toward his house, calling, "I'll see you later."

Ainsley and James exchanged a look. They likely wouldn't have seen Arden's eyes. But they might have glimpsed his shape and posture and movement, so like Connie's. And what might they have heard?