Episode 08

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The central branch of the public library system was an impressive stone building, worn from decades of weather and distribution of knowledge. A chiseled eagle spread its wings above the entrance to the building. Ash went up the flight of steps, unsure of where exactly to go. He had a name and a description, but nothing else. Was Azalea a woman? A girl? Gayle said he couldn't miss her, but what did that mean exactly?

As it was later in the afternoon, much of the public gathering area inside the front doors was given over to young people, ranging from high to middle school, some of whom were raucously enjoying their youth, but only a few of which were wearing hats of any kind. From his initial inspection, none of them matched the basic details he had been given. He went further in, through the inner doors, wandering past towering stacks of books and quieter patrons. Memories of the times spent here with Cascadia served to steel his resolve. Most of the first floor was one large open room, so he positioned himself near the middle, to scout around and see the majority of the space at once. He wasn't sure how hard he was going to need to search, but as it turned out, he wasn't the only one searching.

Over in the corner, tucked against one of the large shelves of books and the wall, was a young girl with very dark brown skin, sitting at a table and staring at him. He could tell even from this distance she wasn't just looking in his general direction, she had her eyes focused precisely on his person. Peering closer, Ash saw she was wearing a green beanie cap with something on the brow, it may have been the prophesied frog.

He casually ambled closer. She wore the uniform of the local Catholic high school: a red jacket with a pale blue blouse, and a calf-length red and silver checked skirt. Her hair was disguised by the beanie, either it was short or she had piled it under the hat well. The same hat which bore a stitched logo of a cartoon frog.

The girl watched Ash approach with her light green eyes. A CD player was on the table beside an open three-ring binder and a hardbound textbook, she tapped her finger to the beat directed into her earbuds. He stood in front of her table for a moment, watching as her other hand fidgeted with an orange flower.

She took out one earbud and tilted her head. Her expression could have been a smirk, or a grin.

"Are you Azalea?" he asked.

"That depends," she said, her voice high and youthful. "Are you Ash?"

He frowned. "Yeah…"

"Great. Then prove it." She held out a disposable lighter, which he hadn't seen in her hands or on the table. It reminded him of a magic trick.

"Umm…" He took the yellow lighter, then glanced at the nearest stack of books.

"No, not like that." She gave him a knowing look, and he realized with a shudder what it was she knew. All of the hiding, the secrecy, constantly checking over both of their shoulders, blending in and not playing with fire or water too much. All of it was for nothing, because somehow, this kid knew what he could do, and she wanted him to show her.

The shock quickly turned to indignation. He forced himself to keep his voice down. "How do you know about me? Have you been watching me? Watching both of us?"

The girl who might be Azalea shook her head. "Hey guy, calm down. I'm just the messenger." She raised her hands in surrender. "I know you want questions answered, but I won't be the one to answer them. After you do this, I'll take you to someone who can."

Ash shook his head, but he wasn't about to back down now. "Okay."

"One, two, three, go." She began to cough loudly at the same time he ignited the lighter, the scraping noise of the flint masked by her faux respiratory problems. He had his back to the rest of the library, so only she could see him hold his other hand over the open flame and not even flinch.

"Cool," she said, and he let the lighter go out. "Nice to meet you Ash, I'm actually Azalea."¹

"Hey. I'd shake your hand, but mine's still hot."

"Oh trust me, I know not to play with fire," she said wryly, unfurling herself from her seat and standing up. She was shorter than Ash by about a head, but aside from being in high school, her age was hard to place.

"Then why do you have a lighter?"

"Lots of reasons." She reached for her backpack to put her few things into while continuing to talk. "So, I just want to be the first one to tell you I'm sorry."

His brow remained furrowed, he expected it would stay like that for a while. "Sorry for what?"

"That's all I can say for now," she said cryptically.

"Do you know about Cascadia?" he said in a growl.

She frowned. "I said that's all I can say. She texted me and told me to wait out here before going downstairs, and I certainly couldn't be out front with all of them." This last comment caused her to let out a small sigh.

"Who texted you?" he asked.

She put the binder in her backpack and zipped it closed. "Gayle did. Didn't she call you too?"

Ash felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. Gayle had called him, and she had instructed this girl to wait in the library and verify his identity by asking him to do something only he could do, at least safely. Which meant only one thing.

Ash gulped. "Gayle knows." He stared at the lighter he still held in his hand.

Azalea put her backpack on, the sides dripping with charms and keychains of cartoon and video game characters, alongside a portrait of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux stitched to the front. "Come on. Let's go." She motioned for him to follow.

"Go where?"

"Where you can get everything figured out."

Azalea walked to the other end of the main room, but not in a straight line, sort of swaying to either side, almost like she was dancing. Ash followed her to an unmarked door. "Through here please," she said, waving a keycard over the reader beside the lock.

"Did you steal that?" he quietly asked.

"Nope," she said, pushing the door open. Beyond was a sterile hallway, lit with fluorescent lights. After the door closed, they were alone and insulated. Despite this, Ash still kept his voice down.

"So Gayle… and you… know about my talent?" he asked.

If it had been another kind of situation, she would have made fun of him, but Azalea knew she needed to go easy on him after what he had been through. "Yeah, we do." She kept walking down the hallway, forcing him to keep up.

Ash had always known other people had special gifts, since he had been around one for half his life. "Is… that because you have one too?"

Azalea stopped right underneath one of the hanging lights, then spun around suddenly, her backpack slapping against her side from the momentum. "What's your favorite color?"

"Umm… why do you ask?"

"Because I learned in English class, it's better to show rather than tell."

"Okay, then. How about black?"

She pulled several paper packets out of her pocket and flipped through them. "I thought I had a really dark purple, but… sorry. What's your second favorite?"

"Red?"

"Oh, pff, easy," she smiled. She upended one packet, a conical brown seed falling into her palm that looked like it belonged in a bowl of cereal. "Now you see it," she closed her fist, and a single bright red daisy sprouted out of her hand, so she was holding onto the stem. "Now you see something else." She held it out to him.

All he could think to say was: "Wow, thanks."

"You're welcome." She turned around again. "But the more we talk, the slower we get there."

"Where's there?" he asked, still examining the newly existing flower.

Azalea kept walking and talking, leading him through another door, still half-skipping. "There's where you get your questions answered. It's the question-answering place."

They were heading down into some forgotten part of the building. "But the more you ask, the longer it will take to get there, and the longer you'll spend there, since you'll have more questions when you do eventually get there."

Judging by the dust and cobwebs which hung in the corners, not many librarians ever came down here. Azalea continued in her lilting tone. "It's like that riddle or experiment or whatever, if you walk halfway toward your destination, then stop and walk halfway between where you are then, you'll never get where you're going!"

The boxes of books and other materials sitting in the hallways tapered off until it was just them and the light fixtures. Azalea had been talking the whole time, but ran out of things to say. So had Ash, at least for the time being.

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Azalea stopped in front of a wooden door. "Here we are!" It looked pretty out of place in the cinder block hallway, with metal doors at either end. But, there it was. The antique doorknob had no keyhole, instead there was a panel by the knob with three pieces of colored glass: one white, one brown, and one green. Azalea knocked twice, then put her hand on the knob and the brown piece lit up. The door creaked as it opened, the smell of tea wafting out.

Ash was grateful he had already come to accept a world full of strange and wonderful things, so he was not too overwhelmed by what lay beyond the door. It was, for all appearances, a quaint little cottage. Tables with curios and tea services, paintings on the wood-paneled walls. A small chandelier hung from the ceiling, alongside several wooden and metal wind chimes, the sort usually seen on the porch of a house, not in an underground bunker. A little kitchen was off to one side, with breads and cheeses and sausages in the open cupboards. A glass vase of white carnations presided on the kitchen table, but looked like they were in dire need of some water. Or a trip to the compost bin.

Azalea had gone straight to the short refrigerator for a paper plate with a piece of festive cake on it. She dropped into the stuffed chair near the entrance, pulling a comic book from her bag and setting the cake on her lap.

"She's through there," Azalea said, pointing.

"Who is?" he asked nervously.

"The person you came here to see."

"Got it," Ash said, noticing the cake. "Is it someone's birthday?"

Azalea peered at him with narrowed eyes. "Yup, mine was a week ago."

"Oh, well happy birthday then."

Her scowl turned into a smile. "Thanks." He hadn't asked how old she was. Between this and Gayle's endorsement, she decided he was firmly alright.

Ash walked forward, dropping his gifted red daisy in the vase with the other flowers, past the large antique clock and the framed photographs of very serious people. Around the corner, just as Azalea had promised, was her. A little old lady sat in a rocking chair, but instead of knitting, her hands were just clasped in her lap. In front of her, taking up the entire wall of the room she was in, was a bank of television sets.

Each one had a different program playing: westerns, musicals, news, comedies, wildlife shows, children's programming, even the cooking channel. Ash entered from the side, the TVs to his left and the elderly woman in front of him. She saw him approaching and lifted her head, smiling. "There you are," she said in a British accent which fit the theme of her home perfectly. She raised her hand in what he thought was a wave, but all the televisions went dark at once. Their glare was replaced by the soft glow of an ornate light fixture above them.

"Hello, Ash. I've wanted to meet you for some time," she said. Despite her accent, she pronounced his name accurately, with the short 'a' sound. Her white hair was pinned in a bun with a wooden stick, her skin was pale and reminded him of paper. Half-lens glasses accented her eyes, which were very light gray, they reminded him of his own. The white blouse and black skirt she wore were covered with a yellow knit shawl. "My name is Lumina. Please, have a seat." She gestured to a damask print chair in the corner, and he pulled it over so he could face her.

"I know by now you likely have quite a few questions," she said.

Ash just nodded. That was the understatement of the year.

"I intend to address them all, but first I would like to show you something that will deal with the most important question right away. Here." The largest television behind her flickered to life again, despite her not pressing any buttons, or moving at all.

Ash turned in his chair to watch the show, a feeling of dread mounting in his stomach. He still had no idea what was going on, but had decided the moment he agreed to follow Gayle's advice, he would trust in where God was sending him.

The screen showed static, but Lumina raised a finger, and the whirring of a VCR could be heard. The scene changed to a narrow, paved alleyway. Ash immediately recognized it: in between the mathematics wing and the science building at the university. It was isolated enough to be able to cause trouble, or get into trouble.

Cascadia came into view, walking at a swift pace away from the camera mounted high on the exterior wall, watching over her shoulder. She turned a corner to the right, no longer visible. The other end of the alley was still brightly lit, but in a moment, it wasn't, a wall of some kind covering it over in a few seconds. The ground wobbled and moved at the arrival of a tall dark-skinned man, who turned the corner after Cascadia. A moment later, a spray of water shot back around the same corner, like a firehose turned on and off again. A few seconds later, a very sharply-dressed fellow with long, dark gray hair came into view, looking up at the camera and grinning. He raised his hand, and the video went out. Ash turned back to Lumina, his eyes wide. His worst fears had all been confirmed.

"That videotape arrived this morning via courier, along with this." Lumina held out a folded paper to him with a shaky hand. He took it carefully, making sure he wasn't hot enough to set the paper on fire.

The letterhead was from Frost Enterprises, the large F-tower logo clearly visible. He read it aloud, the anger thick in his voice. "'Ms. Brighteye, by now you are aware we have recently acquired a Water Star. Please inform all concerned parties that it is being well-kept, and no worry is needed. Once again, we ask that you gather the remaining Stars and bring them to the specified location as soon as possible. The previously discussed compensation is still on offer. Yours, Frost Enterprises Representative.' What is all this?" His tone was seething.

Lumina finished her silent prayer for courage and nodded. "This… is where we are right now. Cascadia has been abducted by agents of Drake Frost, whom you no doubt have heard of through the news."

"Yeah," Ash said, reading the paper again. "What, was he mad about her essay dissing on his company?"

"No, if only it were that simple. It has to do with her gift, and yours, and all of ours." She folded her hands in her lap. "I gather you profess a Christian faith, am I correct?"

Ash nodded.

"Then you agree that God has given gifts to everyone in the world, and you know firsthand that some of those gifts manifest themselves in very dynamic ways. These particular gifts are part of a plan Drake has been working on for many years now, in order to accomplish something very specific. Or rather, to obtain something specific." She picked up the china teacup from the table beside her and took a sip.

Ash was about to ask what, but Lumina changed the subject abruptly. "Oh gracious, I haven't offered you anything. I've been so distracted, I apologise. Would you care for some tea?"

He mumbled an affirmative response, something warm would be nice since it felt like his fire had gone completely out.

"Azalea dear," she called. "Please get Ash some tea."

A groaning sound came from the sitting room, then the sounds of a teenager dragging herself away from her book and into the kitchen. "Alright, just a minute. Should I boil the water or can he do it?"

"Don't be cheeky, love," Lumina admonished, as the sound of a filling kettle came from the kitchen. "Now, where were we?"

"What Drake Frost wants," Ash said, his voice coming out as more of a growl after reading over the letter again.

"Ah, yes. You've noticed he refers to Cascadia as a 'Water Star.' Star is a very old name we have used to refer to ourselves and our unique role in God's plan." Lumina held her hands in front of her and moved them around a central point in space. Ash was immediately reminded of a fortune-teller with a crystal ball, and sure enough, a swirling cloud of light coalesced before her. "Every culture throughout history has tales of heroes, magicians, all manner of individuals endowed with some sort of power. Such are we."

As she spoke, points of brighter light shone through the formless cloud. Soon there were eight in total, each a different colour. "Drake is after something vast and terrible, but he doesn't see it that way, and he never will. It's been known through time by many names, but the most accurate translation we've found is the Starlight Prism."

The eight brighter lights in her lap orbited around the centre, from where a brilliant glow appeared, outshining them all. She continued: "To accomplish this, he requires eight different Stars." She paused. "You," the red light glowed brighter and larger. "Myself," the white light. "He and his associates," the yellow, grey, and black lights in order. The blue light: "Cascadia." A brown light glowed as she said: "Azalea."

"Your tea, sir," Azalea herself said, appearing from the kitchen with a steaming coffee cup full of a rich-smelling drink. He took it gratefully, setting the letter on his lap.

"Did you do that on purpose?" Ash asked.

"Maybe," she said. "Ooh, pretty," pointing to the glowing cloud and constellations. "Anything else, madam?"

"No dear, thank you."

"I shall be nearby if you require my services," Azalea declared.

"Thanks," Ash said, then took a drink of the hot tea. After lowering the mug, he saw Azalea's shocked face.

"That was just boiling a few seconds ago!"

Ash shrugged. Azalea smirked, then spun about and went back to her chair.

Lumina chuckled. "She is wonderful. Anyhow, the last one—"

"Is Gayle," he spoke up as the green light waxed into the same brightness as the others.

Lumina nodded. "Yes, that's correct."

Ash stared at the light show, the miniature galaxy on the wise woman's lap, drawing heat from his very hot tea. So many thoughts and emotions were smoldering inside, so many things had been added to his fire all at once, it was in danger of going out again. He liked this new label, though: Star. It brought to mind a long list of names in God's plan. Next to Ash Grisarco, He had written a red asterisk, and a blue one next to Cascadia Dewlenser. He was reminded of the barrel of multicolored pens she kept on her desk, and of her.

Another kind of Star also applied to him, perhaps uniquely. A celestial ball of fire, burning at all times, the heat intensified by his anger toward the source of his recent troubles. Aidan had been right, after all. It explained so much; her sudden and complete disappearance, the failure in the campus security system, his being removed from her emergency contact form, and Gayle's eagerness to help him last night.

"How did Frost find out about us? How did Gayle know too?"

"You'll have to ask her yourself." The lights around Lumina's hands winked out suddenly, no trace remaining in the air. "But as to Drake, he has an extensive network of professional spies. Against them, no secret will stay hidden forever."

Ash's exasperation was visible and audible. They had tried so hard for so long…

Lumina's heart ached at his frustration. "Please, don't blame yourself. You've done an excellent job protecting her, and you, so far."

He forced himself to calm down enough to talk. "Is that what Gayle told you?"

"No, it's what I have seen for myself. If anyone is to blame for this situation, it is me. I didn't see this coming, which means Drake may have finally caught on…" She shook her head. "But pity will not change what's happened. What Drake has done, he has done."

He rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "So… he's what, blackmailing us?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Lumina nodded. "Cascadia herself is very valuable to him for a number of reasons, but he also intends to use her as leverage to secure your cooperation, and mine as well."

"She's valuable, so he hasn't hurt her? The letter said she was well taken care of."

"No, he needs her as hale as possible."

He took another drink of tea. "And this thing he wants her for, the Prism, what is it?"

"That," she paused, "we are not entirely certain of. Drake has convinced himself that because the Prism represents the completeness and perfection of creation, it is a source of unlimited, clean energy, which he will share with the world, for a fee of course. But, the records differ as to its true function. Few people have lived to describe it at all, those who behold it tend to die shortly afterward."

"Why? Because of it?"

"Or because of the fighting that inevitably follows. According to what ancient records we have analysed, many of the great disasters in history can be attributed to a Prism, or to Stars warring with each other to create or possess one." She waved her hand. "Volcanoes, earthquakes, tidal waves, even the sinking of Atlantis."

Ash tilted his head. "Like… the mythical underwater city?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"But Atlantis isn't real?" His tone was both questioning and challenging.

Lumina looked down her spectacles at him. "Are people who can move around fire and water with only their minds real?"

"Well… yes."

"Then there you are." She sighed. "This is the problem with science, it narrows people's view of the world. There are just as many wondrous things in the world now as there have ever been. But everyone is trained to ignore them unless they can be weighed and measured."

"Yeah, I guess that's true." He held up the letter again. "But Frost doesn't think a disaster would happen, or he wouldn't be trying it."

"That's a possibility, yes."

"Alright." Ash leaned back in his chair and tried to get comfortable despite his urge to rip up a phone book, then burn it. "This is just a lot to take in at once."

"I understand," Lumina said. "I know it can be difficult when receiving news like this." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I had hoped to be able to meet you both under different circumstances, but… again, here we are."

The knock on the door cut through the tension of the moment, three raps on the wood echoing in Ash's head.

"Gayle's here!" Azalea called. "Good thing too, I'm starving!"

Lumina couldn't help a weak grin. She had undoubtedly eaten another piece of her cake, yet still claimed to be famished.

The door creaked open. "Hi Gayle!"

Their conference thus concluded, Lumina said: "We can talk more, after supper." She got up carefully, taking hold of the polished wooden cane from the stand nearby.

In the sitting room and kitchen, Ash found someone he never expected to see in a place like this. Gayle had an olive green jacket over her blouse and skirt instead of an apron, but looked otherwise the same. She had set several takeout bags on the table and Azalea was eagerly rooting through them.

Gayle regarded Ash with a weary expression. "Howdy Ash," she said quietly. Seeing him standing there in the hallway of Lumina's place was something she had wanted to have happened for years now, but she had also wanted him to be standing alongside someone else. "Glad you could come."

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1. If he hadn’t been Ash, who would she have been instead?