The Search for Truth (11 page)

Bethany giggled, and Erec felt ridiculous for thinking the guru had been raising the dead, when he was just raising his friend at poker. The guru popped a few chips into his mouth. So much for him not having eaten in over thirty years, Erec thought. And for giving up earthly possessions, too. His laptop computer looked like the latest model.

“Um, don't you
know
why I'm here?” Erec asked.

“Erec!” Bethany shot him her “that's rude” look.

“Let me guess,” Swami Parvananda's sharp voice intoned. “You're two rich kids from America who came here on a holiday and want to meet the mystic they heard lives in the cave. To get your fortunes read. Right?” He yawned.

“Uh…no.” Erec crossed his arms. This guy didn't seem so special to him. Since when did living in a cave and wearing a sheet make you know things? This “mystic” didn't seem to know anything. “I guess you really can't help us,” Erec said, “seeing as how you can't see what's under your own nose.”

Bethany drew back from Erec in shock. “I can't believe you said that.”

Swami Parvananda pointed a thumb at Erec and said, “Anything can come out of the mouth of a monkey.”

Erec wasn't sure why this guy upset him so much, but something about the guru made him angry. “We came all the way out here because you were supposed to be some great guru who knows everything. And here you are playing poker and eating potato chips.”

“What would you prefer I was doing? Raising the dead?” His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. As if he knew.

Erec and Bethany exchanged glances. Could the Swami have heard them talking? It seemed unlikely. “I'm sorry,” Erec said. “I don't know why I said that. We came here to see if you could help us. We're kind of on a quest.”

“I know now. Sit down.” The little man gestured to some flat rocks near his pillow. “Do you know why you got angry with me?”

Erec and Bethany sat before him. Erec shook his head.

“It's because you recognized me. You saw that I should know you, too. And when I didn't see who you were right away, you were upset.”

Erec nodded out of politeness. He had no idea what the guru was talking about, but he was starting to feel much better.

“You don't understand yet,” Swami Parvananda continued. “You have something inside you, something different from most people. You know things, like me, about…about what do you think?”

“Magic?” The word was out of Erec's mouth before he realized it.

Swami Parvananda tilted his head in thought. “That's an interesting way to put it, but I suppose it's true. Magic. Our earth. What it's made of.”

“Do you mean the Substance?” Erec was eager to learn how much this mystic knew about magic. Maybe he could help them after all.

“I don't know what is ‘substance.' I think you are talking about
prana
. In the East they call it ‘Chi It's the energy that runs through the universe, that lets us all live. It flows through channels called the—”

“Aitherplanes,” Erec blurted out.

“I was going to say the ‘Nadis,' but maybe they are the same thing.” The guru pursed his lips in thought. “Yes. I believe so.”

“Have you noticed,” Erec leaned forward, “that there is a problem lately with the…prana? Something's wrong with it?”

“Namaste,” Swami Parvananda said. He pressed his palms together, fingers up, in front of his chest and bowed his head to Erec. “You are truly a seer, my friend.”

“So you noticed it too?” Erec was amazed. “The Substance—I mean the prana—is leaking away, getting messed up?”

“I have, my friend. In fact, I was just chatting with my friend Swami Rictananda about it on a discussion board.” He nodded toward his computer.

“Online?” Bethany asked. “Do mystics chat online now?”

“Why not?” the Swami said. “Easier than making a pilgrimage.”

“Why do you think it's happening?” Erec asked. “What can we do? Upper Earth is going to die.”

“Upper Earth?” The Swami wrinkled his nose in confusion. “Do you mean the north, or up in the mountains?”

“No, I just mean Earth.”

Swami Parvananda sighed. “I wish I knew. We have all been meditating about it.” He frowned at Erec. “I have a very funny feeling right now. If you don't mind, I'd like to do a palm reading for you.” He looked at Bethany. “Maybe both of you.”

They nodded, excited. A reading by a real psychic!

First Bethany sat close to Swami Parvananda. He took her palm and traced some lines on it with his finger. Then he held his hand
over hers, not touching it, and closed his eyes. They sat there for a while.

Erec could see the Swami's eyes darting back and forth behind his closed lids. He wondered what the man was seeing. It felt good to watch someone else seeing things that nobody else could. So he was not the only one. Unfortunately, he could not control it like the Swami could. The things Erec saw with his cloudy thoughts descended on him on their own.

Soon Swami Parvananda opened his eyes. He held Bethany's hand and placed his other palm on top of it. Tears were in his eyes. “Never have I been so privileged.” He bowed his head. “You, my dear, have the gift of sight. You don't know it yet. But someday you will be able to read into the future. It might have to do with math. And you have the heart to do the right thing with it when you do. My girl, you have made good choices so far with your friends and what to believe. Stick with your choices, even when your friends change their minds.” He patted her hand, then nodded to Erec.

Erec and Bethany switched seats. When Swami Parvananda took his hand, Erec could feel a surge of energy through his skin. It was as if the Swami was electrified. He looked at Erec's palm, tracing the lines on it in deep concentration. Then he held his hand over Erec's and closed his eyes.

Images jumped through Erec's head as he sat. Growing up with June and his five adopted siblings. His old recurrent nightmare about his father, and then finding out from the Memory Mogul that the dream was really somebody else's memory. Meeting and then losing Aoquesth. His anger at his mother and then at King Piter for keeping things from him. Learning from an inquizzle that his birth mother was still alive.

And then cloudy thoughts. Dragon eyes. Turning into a dragon.

As he watched the mystic's eyes dart beneath his closed lids,
Erec was sure he was seeing these same things. And then his mind went blank, just when he got the feeling that this man was seeing into his future.

Soon Swami Parvananda's eyes opened. He took Erec's hand in his. “My son.” He looked both sad and kind. “It is you. You are the one.”

Erec knew what he meant, but he needed to hear it. “The one to do what?”

The Swami nodded. “To fix the prana. Your Substance. If anyone can do it, it can only be you.”

 

They sat quietly. The Swami was right. Erec wondered if he had known that all along, somehow. Or maybe just since he'd had both dragon eyes. They let him know things, deep down, that he wasn't even conscious of.

“Will I be able to do it? Will I fix the Substance?” Erec asked finally.

“Will you be able to?” Swami Parvananda said. “Yes. Will you? I don't know. I can see what's in you, but I can't see how you will use it. I can tell you it will not be easy.”

Erec understood that. Somehow he knew it would be very, very difficult. It would go against his every fiber. He wondered, himself, what he would do.

“You have more powers than anyone I've heard of,” the guru said. “They come from your eyes and that chain.” He pointed at the Amulet of Virtues hanging around Erec's neck. “But you cannot control them yet. You must learn how, fast. If you let them go wild now, you may go wild.”

Erec thought of how wild he had felt when he was a dragon, fighting the crocodile.

“You must learn to tame your powers, master them,” the guru said.
“And then you will be able to see the future. But not like your friend here. In a different way. Your two ways might work well together.” He nodded. “Or they might not. You will see.”

“I'm on a quest,” Erec said. “Or, actually, I still need to find out what the quest is. The only part I heard was ‘Get behind.' So King Piter told me to consult the Oracle in Delphi. But I found out that it won't work for just anyone. We need to find a medium to talk to the Fates. I was wondering if you might come with us.”

The guru laughed. “I haven't left this cave in years.” He nodded at his computer. “Don't have to, with this thing. My friends bring me what I need. But you don't need me with you anyway.”

“How will I find a medium?” Erec asked.

Swami Parvananda giggled. “Look in a mirror.”

M
E? EREC WAS
dumbfounded at the Swami's statement. Sure, he saw snippets of the future with his cloudy thoughts, but he was no medium.

“Yes, you. You have everything you need. Just a little more learning, that's all.”

“But how will I learn in time? Can you show me how to use my dragon eyes?” It did not seem odd to talk to this Upper Earth man about Oracles and dragon eyes. The Swami was not surprised at all.

“No, that I cannot,” he said. “But you do know somebody who can. Somebody from your past, and your future. From what I saw in your mind, he's a good-looking chap. Nice, trim. No hair cluttering his head. Stylish clothing.”

Erec could not think of a stylish bald man for the life of him. But Bethany smiled. “You're talking about the Hermit.”

“But the Hermit's crazy,” Erec said, drawing back. “He makes no sense at all.”

“A very, very good sign.” The Swami nodded.

“And how could I even find him in time?”

“Oh, I don't think that will be difficult,” the Swami said. “I get the feeling he pops up when he is needed.”

That was true. Erec remembered how the Hermit had appeared out of the blue right before his first two quests. And King Piter had said he had made the Hermit Erec's magic tutor.

“I think there is something else you will need from here,” the guru said. “I will give it to you now.”

They followed him into a small crevice in the rock at the edge of the cave. A wave of music surged to their ears. It sounded like a sea of tuning forks struck at the same time. The Swami pointed at rows of clear quartz crystals jutting from a table of rock. “These are the singing crystals,” he said. “They will sing when they are in the presence of great prana—magic, as you call it.”

The ringing was a lovely, relaxing sound, but it slowly faded. “They were singing because of you,” the Swami said. “They detected magic within you. But they adjust and become quiet again. If you left for a while and came back, they would make noise again.” He broke off a tall crystal the size of a celery stalk and handed it to Erec. “I'm not sure why, but I think you'll need this.”

“Thank you.” Erec put it in his backpack. The crystal rang in a loud, clear note, then quieted again. Probably because of the
Magiclight and Serving Tray in there, he realized.

Before they left, Erec pulled out the Serving Tray. “I see you still eat, contrary to popular belief. Do you want some lunch before we go?”

Curious, Swami Parvananda nodded. The three took turns naming items, watching them appear, then sampling them, desserts and main courses side-by-side. Seeing food magically appear in front of him did not throw the Swami off one bit. He named items they had never heard of, most of them delicious, and seemed just as happy trying blueberry waffles and tiramisu, although he avoided the meat dishes.

Bethany and Erec took a cue from Swami Parvananda and bowed low, like he did. Then they headed down the path.

“Do you think we should offer some food to Rajiv?” Bethany asked.

“I wish,” Erec said. “I don't think he'd be as relaxed about magically appearing food, though.”

“Couldn't we just tell him Swami Parvananda gave it to us?” she asked.

“And ruin his reputation for not eating in thirty years? I don't think so,” Erec said. “Rajiv will be okay till we get back.”

They hopped into the truck with smiles and waved at Rajiv in front. But Rajiv looked a little different from the way Erec remembered. Didn't Rajiv have hair?

“Hello, silly Erec.” The Hermit swung around, black eyes twinkling. “Forget who I am already?”

 

Rajiv appeared from behind some trees and rushed over to them. “How was it? Did the Swami tell you what your path is, why you were called to him?” His eyes searched them for clues. “What was he like?”

“He was a true mystic,” Bethany said. “You were right about him. And he really did help us.”

“How? What did he say?”

Erec could not begin to explain, and Bethany was at a lack for words. But the Hermit said, “Songs unsung have the sweetest tunes.”

“Yes, yes.” Rajiv nodded and climbed into the driver's seat. “I hope you kids don't mind. This holy man was wandering nearby. I'm taking him back with us. It's good luck to give them food and shelter.”

Erec had to admit, the Hermit fit right in here. Today the Hermit was wrapped in a big white towel with only his scrawny arms and the ends of his stick legs popping out. It almost looked like the Swami's outfit, except the Hermit's was terry cloth.

Their ride home was relaxing, and as soon as they walked in, Sunita presented them with huge plates of food. After stuffing themselves with the Swami, they were far too full to eat. They picked at it awhile, until Bethany said that meeting the Swami had messed with their stomachs. “I'm sure we'll feel better by dinner,” she added.

The Hermit was inside when the two of them walked out of the house, but as they strolled down a path, there he was, sitting on a rock in front of them.

“How do you do that?” Bethany asked.

“Sit on a rock? It's easy.” The Hermit giggled.

Erec noticed his accent was similar to Rajiv's, yet different somehow. Erec was glad to see him. If he could just learn to use his dragon eyes, he could become enough of a medium to use the Oracle and learn the rest of his quest. He began to explain, “We need a medium—”

“And I need a rare.” The Hermit pointed at Erec. “And a well-done.” He pointed at Bethany.

Erec rolled his eyes. How would he ever learn anything from this guy?

“I know what you need, Erec Rex, and I will help you get it. But first you must prove your faith in me. You must do as I say,
without thinking, to show your complete trust, if you want me to teach you.”

Did he have any alternative? “Okay.” Erec waited.

“Follow me.” The Hermit led them to a bridge over a deep brook. “You must walk across this bridge with your eyes shut. No peeking. To show your confidence in me. Only then can I teach you.”

The bridge was made of narrow wood slats with no sides or railings. If Erec took a wrong step he'd plunge into the water. “Where do I start?”

“Right here.” The Hermit led him to the middle of the bridge. “Close your eyes.” He spun Erec in circles, until Erec had no idea which direction the bridge was going under his feet. “Okay, now walk.”

“Straight ahead?” Erec asked. He wasn't sure about walking on the bridge without looking where he was going. It made him nervous knowing he could step wrong and fall right off.

“Straight ahead. Don't peek. You must trust me.”

“Okay.” Erec went forward a few steps, feeling the hard wood boards under his feet. He was cautious, unsteady, but kept moving. Then his foot plunged straight down, with nothing under it to catch him. He splashed, face-first, into the brook.

The Hermit was doubled over laughing when he climbed out. “Very good, Erec,” he chortled. “You passed your test.”

“But you didn't pass yours,” Erec said, shaking off droplets of water like a dog. Bethany was laughing now too. “How am I supposed to trust you now?”

“That's your problem.” The Hermit giggled. “I never said you wouldn't fall off.”

“Not very confidence-inspiring.” The water felt good in the heat so it was hard to be upset. Oh well, he thought. If falling off of a bridge was what it took to learn how to use his dragon eyes, that was a small price to pay.

 

The Hermit had Erec sit on a flat rock near a stream. The Hermit's legs were folded into a perfect lotus position. Erec's were sprawled in front of him. He was wearing another set of Rajiv's pajama bottoms and a top called a kurta. Bethany watched them from a grassy spot nearby, weaving a chain of wildflowers.

“Is reading the future with my dragon eyes like doing a dragon call or moving the Substance?” Both of those things Erec had done by concentrating on the love inside of him and sending it out through Aoquesth's eyes. He was getting pretty good at that.

“No.” The Hermit slid a finger across the stone, drawing a picture in the dust. “When you call out to the dragons, and when you call out to the Substance, you are calling out. See? Now you will be calling in. Or crawling in, more like.”

Erec waited in silence. He did not understand, but asking the Hermit questions did not always help.

“I will guide you,” the Hermit said. He whipped the white terry-cloth turban off his head and spread it before him. “First, get out your Serving Tray.”

Erec found Jam's tray and handed it to the Hermit. The Hermit produced a peeled orange, a soft-boiled egg, a bowl of pitted cherries, and three freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He arranged them on the terry-cloth towel. “Now, when you use your dragon eyes for seeing into what will come, you are not throwing signals out through your eyes. You want to keep everything inside of you. It is like learning to work a movie projector. You must learn to go inside and be in control. Very different.

“Your eyes will show you the movie. You are in charge of the watching. You control the projector. Turn it on and off. Watch when you are ready. But can you control what you see?” The Hermit raised his eyebrows.

“No, I don't think so,” Erec said. “I couldn't control what I saw with my cloudy thoughts. And Aoquesth could only see certain things too, when he looked into the future.”

“Wrong answer.” The Hermit slapped the rock. “Try again.”

“Okay. I can control what I see?”

“Wrong answer,” the Hermit said. “Try again.”

“There are no other answers,” Erec said.

“Wrong again. The answer is you can, and you cannot, control what you see. You cannot control it because you must sit and watch what your eyes choose to show you. And you
do
control it because they are your eyes. Somewhere inside, it is you making the choice of what to show yourself. You are not aware of it, but you show yourself what you need to see the most.”

It all sounded wonderful, but Erec still had no clue how to do it. He looked at the food spread before him. It would have looked more appealing were it not sitting on something that had been wrapped around the Hermit's bald head.

“Okay, now we start,” the Hermit instructed. “It is a kind of meditation. Close your eyes and follow where I take you.”

Erec closed his eyes. The hot sun filtered through the leaves above, its warmth relaxing him. Every now and then a soft breeze drifted by. He heard the Hermit say, “You are sitting on a rock, resting in your body. Relaxing. Every inch of you fills yourself up completely.” Erec visualized what the Hermit was saying. It was easy because it was true.

“Now,” the Hermit continued, “you will go inside yourself more. Go in deeper. Picture moving out of your fingers and toes, leaving them, and going into a box inside your head. It is a dark room in there, but comfortable. You move easily. There is plenty of room for you. You are still inside yourself, but now just in one spot. In this room.”

Maybe because the Hermit's voice was so soothing and the hot sun so peaceful, Erec found it easy to picture doing just what the
Hermit had said. He felt that he was deep within himself, safe in a dark room.

“Now go in again,” said the Hermit, “through another door in that room into a smaller one, and then again into an even smaller one. They are deeper and deeper inside of you. All these rooms are comfortable, plenty big for you to go into. It feels good to be there.”

Erec imagined going into two more rooms inside of each other. It was like entering doorways in a series of nesting boxes. He focused, and in his mind he was secure and protected in a warm, dark room in his mind.

“Now, in this room you see something. Two windows hang in front of you, but their shades are pulled down. No light is coming in. If you wanted, you could pull a cord that hangs between them and open the shades. But not yet. You are happy here now. There is another thing in the room too. It is a small box on a table. Go up to the box. Touch it.”

Erec imagined walking up to a box on a table. He put his hands on it. It felt mysterious, exciting.

“Good,” the Hermit said. “This box holds your future. Everything you want and do not want to know is in this box. What will happen to Alypium, to Upper Earth. If you will become king. When you will die. It is all inside.”

The box seemed to pulse under Erec's hands. It held an enormous amount of energy. He was thrilled to touch it, be near it, but was afraid to see what was inside.

The Hermit's voice echoed through the dark room. “This box is your movie projector. Pull the cord to open the shades and concentrate on the box. It will show you something. Try it.”

A chill raced through Erec. He grasped the cord and it felt warm and silky in his grip. Then he pulled.

The window shades flew open. Everything he saw through the windows was green. Fat ropes of Substance hung in the air. Then…

Screaming. Terror. Blasting noise. Fear. Explosion.

He yanked the cord back and the shades slammed down.

 

Erec took a while to return to normal. He felt like he was running in a panic through dark rooms, searching for the way out. Finally, when he realized he was sitting on a rock in the sun, exhaustion hit him. It was all he could do to open his eyes.

“Cool!” Bethany squealed. “Green light shined out through your dragon eyes! Did you see the future?”

Erec shook his head. “Not really. At least I hope not.” He remembered how green light had shone through Patchouli's eyes and Aoquesth's eyes when they were reading the future. So this is what they had gone through? No wonder Aoquesth had been exhausted afterward. Patchouli hadn't been. She must have been a tower of strength.

“Oh.” Bethany looked disappointed. “It looked like something was happening.”