Awakening - The Last Science #1

Chapter 14 - What It Means - III

  There was a single lonely park at the south end of Rallsburg. It was almost the polar opposite of the train station. It had been built at the insistence of the previous mayor to give the town somewhere to meet that wasn't the musty town hall. Some called it excessive; why have a tailored and artificial park when the natural forest was only a few dozen feet beyond? It was pointless when nature could produce greater beauty without any effort at all, they said.

  Rachel disagreed. To her, the mixture of the two was the perfect expression of the town. It was a gentle transition from the wild and untamed forest, to the constructed and designed—but still full of life and beauty—open-air park. Beyond it lay the first real signs of industry and modernity, as the grass turned to pavement.

  She arrived with Will only a few minutes prior to the scheduled start. They'd both dressed soberly, with Rachel in a long black dress and Will in a dark jacket and nicer pants than she'd ever seen him wear. Rachel had only tangentially known Jenny Wilson, but she was determined to pay her respects to an erstwhile member of her town and a tragic victim of her world, and offer any comfort she could to the parents. She wasn't sure how much they'd found out about the circumstances of their daughter's death—not being present at the town hall meeting—but Rachel was sure they'd at least heard whispers about the supernatural aspect of Jenny's passing.

  For the moment, the parents seemed occupied with greeting the rest of the town. Being a native family of Rallsburg, the Wilsons were good friends with Robert Harrison and the other logging families, though they were primarily involved with teaching and bookkeeping. Paul Wilson looked like a stick compared to Robert Harrison's solemn-faced bulk, but the two greeted each other as if they were the best of friends.

  Will and Rachel took seats in the back row of the chairs that had been set out. A poorly blown-up blurry photograph of Jenny—taken at the beginning of the school year—was at the front, with a black ribbon across one corner and flowers scattered around the frame. Her face peeked out from a curtain of long brown messy bangs, crooked front teeth and all. They'd talked about getting her braces sometime soon. It was notable since there was no orthodontist anywhere near the town, which would mean long train rides any time Jenny needed an adjustment or a checkup.

  At the far edge of the photo frame was the barest hint of a hand. Another face just barely outside, trying to get in the photo at the last second. "Natalie," she murmured.

  "Hm?" Will asked, nudging her.

  "How is she going to handle this?" Rachel asked. "I don't think I could have at her age."

  "You know her better than me, love. But I think she'll be okay."

  "She's tough," Rachel said, mostly to herself. Emotion was thickening her voice. She brushed away a tear threatening to drop from her face. "She'll pull through."

  "Rachel?" They turned at the new voice and found Rowan Rhistler standing behind them in a black suit. The sheriff had also arrived, in full uniform. Rachel quickly rose to greet the mayor, stumbling a little on her dress. It was longer than what she was used to, since she hadn't cut it to fit her properly yet. Dresses at her height were always far too long or much too short, and she couldn't exactly afford a custom fit, so most of her clothes were home-modified.

  "Mayor."

  "Rowan, please, and I'm sorry to say I didn't expect to see you here today."

  Rachel was taken aback. "I felt I had to come and pay my respects."

  "Let me clarify: I think it's good you came, I just didn't know if you would. To be honest, I was working up the courage to ask you to attend, and never got around to it."

  Somewhere deep in her mind, Rachel burst out laughing. The mayor of the town—a much older, stronger and experienced leader—was afraid of her. It tickled her brain that these were the circumstances of her life now.

  It only took one look at the eternally frozen smiling face of Jenny at the front of the procession to void her mirth utterly.

  "That's all right, Rowan. I'm glad you're here as well, I wanted to talk to you."

  "Oh?"

  "We should save it for after the service, though," Rachel added, noticing the arrival of the town's only real clergyman, Henry Smith. Rallsburg was unusually secular for a small American town. There were no churches and very little organized religious gatherings. The few who did actively practice tended to gather at family houses on a rotating basis, or out in the park in nice weather. The town never resented them, but neither did it particularly support them. To Rallsburg, religion was a curiosity—something to glance at occasionally and recognize habitually as the years went by, but mostly ignore.

  Until they couldn't.

  Until something like this happened.

  Rachel had only a few encounters with the red-haired Reverend Smith in the past (though he disliked the title, everyone addressed him as such regardless), and all had been positive—but they were all prior to the Emergence. She'd not seen or heard from him once since the town hall. From what she could research, Rachel expected a harsh response from the religious world at large regarding magic, but she couldn't be sure of a single preacher in a backwoods town like Rallsburg. She hoped the memorial would be solid neutral ground to approach him.

  For the time being, he was still talking to the Wilsons, discussing the service. Rachel allowed her eyes to wander over the rest of the small crowd, and found her gaze drawn to the treeline across the open fields. Was she imagining things, or had she seen someone flitting amongst the trees?

  No, Rachel realized. She was seeing someone—multiple someones. Her eyes, more keen than most thanks to her brain maximizing the slightest signals and recognizing their meaning, picked out the telltale cloaks of Cinza's people flickering in the treeline. Cinza was attending, but in her own way, and in such a fashion to not intrude upon the ceremony where they would most certainly not be wanted. Rachel appreciated the girl's tact yet again. She looked straight out into the forest and gave a firm nod, mouthing 'thank you' as clearly as she could. A brief flash of light flickered in response, acknowledging her message.

  Rachel scarcely had time to think on it more. A car was pulling up to the park, which could only mean Kendra. As expected, Collins burst from the driver door to promptly open the door for his employer. Rachel wondered if he knew they were on to him as an informant. Kendra had asked they leave Collins for her to deal with, and they had. Rachel was curious what she planned to do with him.

  Kendra emerged, elegant as ever and drawing the attention of the crowd. Before she approached, however, she turned back to the car and extended her arm. Rachel's heart quickened. Oh Kendra, what have you done?

  A small hand decorated with a white flower broach extended out and grasped Kendra's glove. Natalie stepped out of the car. Her hair was drawn up, her face and arms clean for once. She was dressed in a simple black dress that looked far more expensive than children's clothing had any right to be. Suddenly, she looked her age—older even, with her grave expression and bloodshot eyes. She looked uncertain, but Kendra held her hand firmly and lead her forward.

  Ingrid Wilson burst into tears, falling to her knees. Natalie let go and ran to her. She wrapped up Ingrid in a tight hug. It was Ingrid who sobbed into Natalie's shoulder, and not the other way around. The girl looked sad, but she also looked determined. She wasn't crying. Natalie Hendricks refused to cry.

  Rachel wasn't so strong. She felt her own eyes well up. "How did this happen, Will?" she asked.

  Will had no answers for her. He took her hand and squeezed it gently. She held it tight, as if she would fall into the abyss without it.