NINE TIME MACHINES: Do you want to undo your entire life on planet earth?

CHAPTER 197

The stairway walls are now a kaleidoscope of animated colour and its steps mud tiles. But this does not take away from the Cattleyas that line the way forward. The rich burgundy lipstick is a fine accompaniment to her warm pink foundation, and sets a calm mood to end my journey. Then the long walk down flattens out into a hallway, and I understand a little more about the ritual, why I had to do it both standing and lying. Now I understand something more. This is simply not the imagination of a dying girl. Something meaningful is happening here and I'm at the core of it all. Perhaps it's time I accept that and see what will come out of it.

There's a cracked door just ahead. And it's a good thing the crack is not bigger, because the small amount of light that's leaking from it is enough to blind even the most experienced sun gazer. The closer I get, the more it increases, almost as if intensifying to keep me away. But I stand my ground. This is the last throne, for goodness sake. I'm not going to let a little thing like blindness stand in the way of my treasure, am I? And it's that persistence that works in my favour, for its strength wanes when I reach an invisible marker, and becomes as nothing by the time I yank the door open. Now I am staring into a sun that has never before shone over the whole of the Karmic Islands, one no one will believe I had access to. And then it falls from the sky on to a golden throne guarded by three beasts, a bear, viper and lion.

"Hello, Mary. I'm Purson." He extends a hand. "And let me be the first to congratulate you on casting eyes upon the pure sun."

"Will I have to do another circle ritual?"

"I thought it was clear." He looks at me confused.

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Mary, you've been approved by the dark mother herself. You are the circle."

"So why am I here with you? Everything's over, right?"

"I'm here for two reasons, actually."

"Other tests, no doubt."

"Closure," he reveals. "And to show you an ancient secret never told before."

"Closure with what?"

"A conversation you've wanted to have a while now."

"With who?"

"Your surrogate mother."

"Who? Ebony?" I say weakly. "She's here?"

"Take as long as you like."

Ebony Pethiel enters drenched in frankincense and the yellow dress they buried her in. At first, it is uncomfortable for me, because her smooth skin reminds me of everything I am not. But I comfort myself in the knowledge that I have something she desires most, the gift of life and with it the potential to experience greatness beyond anything she could imagine. She takes her seat next to mine. I smile in response to her fleeting one then realize why there were two seats in the seventh room after all. This conversation was always supposed to happen. I am supposed to get closure from the last chapter of my life before I'm allowed to move into the next one.

Inhale. Exhale. I shift uneasily in my chair, hoping she doesn't use death as an excuse to have learned her lesson and want to enjoy what little time we have left. But she is the same distant Ebony I've always known. So there is no danger of me being smothered by tears. The silence between us is thick enough to clobber a rapist to death. I want to say something to break it; anything, talk about the jobs I could never hold down, the vets who were incapable of putting my collar back together again, even the name I never got to build for myself. Instead, I let the silence start drowning me. And when my nose is almost covered, she decides to spare my life.

"You tell me, Mary. What kind of Dahlyxian is born smooth then goes rough?" she says.

See? This is how she starts off? It's just like her to rub salt on my wounds.

"My kind?" I mutter.

"That was the one thing no one could wrap their heads around. But you were never mine from the beginning. I was just a vessel, one that held on for longer than necessary."

"You mean, you never gave birth to me at all?"

"Oh, yes; I gave birth to you."

"Then how can you use these last moments to say you're not my mother?"

"Because I never conceived you."

"That's impossible! I'm here! I was born. I'm your child whether you like it or not."

"All true except one part," she says in her usual icy fashion. "You're not my child!"

"How on earth can any woman give birth to a child and not be that child's mother?"

"It's easy. You were put inside of me."

"Yes!" I shout. "By a man. And before you go I'd like to know who that man is."

"All you need to know is he's not human. You're not human either, Mary."

"What? What the hell!" I explode now. "Look at me, dammit! I'm human. I'm your human!"

"No, you're not," she says in a flat tone. "You were put inside of me. That's all."

"Okay," I try to calm down. "Have it your way. We don't have long enough. Let's just talk."

"About what? The fact that I'm not sorry for anything I did to you?"

"Don't," I mutter, trying to hold back the tears. "Just stay silent. Let's not say anything else."

"I'll say this," Ebony disobeys. "I did my job. I trained you well for their war."

"You helped destroy a harmless child to win a stupid war?"

She stares at me dumbfounded. "But it was never my war, Mary. Always hers."

"Hers? Who? Dammit! Just spit it out. I deserve the truth. At least give me that."

"Your mother's," she says simply. "It's your mother's war. And you're her biggest weapon."

"Please. I can't even hold down a good job."

"Maybe that's because you were born for too big a purpose to be lumped together with nitwits."

"That's easy for you to say. You've never worked for anyone in your life."

"Look! I'll do one motherly thing for you and that will be it," she says and shocks me.

"What's that?"

"Don't let all that time I wasted toting you around be in vain," she says coldly. "Do what they want. Bring justice to the earth! And don't ever wake me again! The last thing I need is a complicated young girl raining on my parade. You actually dragged me from a stage performance. Did you know that? Now do like the wind and blow somewhere else."

And then the throne master returns, just him and the lion. But I am not in the mood to deal with royalty anymore, nor assume authority on anyone's throne. He plants himself on Ebony's empty seat and watches as I let the last of my childhood tears flow. When he's satisfied that I'm done, he stands, takes my hand and leads me to his throne; then gestures for me to sit.

"The time for tears is over, Mary," he whispers into my ear. "Your victory awaits!"

"So everyone keeps telling me. But am I ready to step out there and face my destiny?"