The Survivor - Veil Walkers Book One

Chapter Four

Home, Modern Era - Irem

THE tranquil setting for Nathalie's funeral was as false as Irem's left hand. Constructed from her energy, she used the apparition to clasp her hands before her while she prayed. As for the room, it couldn't be further from reality unless they crossed to Over Yonder.

Although inside their climate controlled, computer operated base, their surroundings were that of a narrow valley. Mountains on either side jutted upward as if someone had rudely grabbed the land and yanked it aloft. The one to their right was capped with sheer vertical rock, its crest undulating. The shallow stream that traced through the valley became a river when it rained, but today it meandered along a riverbed that was mostly sheets of flat sandstone.

Irem climbed down from the boulder where she had been viewing the scene and turned toward the catafalque on which Nathalie rested. This was her favorite place, where she wanted her funeral to be. The dry stone with water trickling to either side presented the perfect place for the raised platform and the narrow valley a suitable backdrop.

It was also a direct copy of the valley outside of their base, back before it became a tourist trap. The peaceful stream still ran, but now with raised walkways and dramatic arched bridges leading adventurous visitors to mountain trails. The label of National Recreational Area protected the mountain and river itself, but hotels and gift shops had sprung up on either side.

This was how Nathalie remembered the area: before the tourist trade, back when the pillar of rock still stood in the U-shaped scar atop the Seneca Rocks mountain. The only sounds other than nature were the ones they made themselves.

Irem wondered what led Nathalie to choose this spot, as opposed to something from her homeland. Born in France, her family had migrated to the then French-controlled Melanesian nation of New Caledonia. This place couldn't be further from the environment she grew up in. But sometimes people chose areas that represented their time-locked lives and sometimes they didn't.

Irem's current choice was the fire temple near Lake Urmia in Turkish Armenia. When it had stood, it had been magnificent to behold. Today, only four thick stone pillars remained. Her funeral, if the time ever came, would take place in this programmable room, too.

She took a shaky breath as she beheld her friend. They had laid Nathalie out as best they could, given the time constraints. The problem with existing outside of time was that once the soul departed, time caught up with the body. They had roughly eight hours to say their farewells before the body would disappear. That's why everyone had been in such a rush, why Namid and Keegan had been off their game in Mongolia, and why Ming Yue had been so curt with the newcomer. Time was short, and they needed every minute.

Nathalie's dark curls had been draped just so on the cream-colored pillow, and a squat silver candle holder stood by her head. She was covered to her waist with one of Astrid's handmade quilts, but Irem knew she wore simple cotton pants beneath, and her feet were bare, as she would have wanted.

Nathalie hated shoes.

Her clasped hands rested across her waist and a single blue lily lay tucked beneath her fingers. She wore a blue knit sweater, thick with twisted cables. Cahya had made that for her. Irem had been there the day he gave it as a birthday present.

God, she was beautiful. Irem approached the catafalque and tucked a lock of hair behind Nathalie's ear. The peaceful smile on her face felt like a punch to the gut, but she needed to see it one last time.

She and Nathalie had been lovers in the past. They never officially bonded, but she wished they had.

Irem drew a long breath as tears threatened to fall again. She didn't want to cry, not here, not during the ceremony. She drew her fists tight, physical and ethereal alike, and thought through the calming exercises she taught new recruits. Center herself, then ground her energy.