The Emerald Atlas by John Stephens Page B

said.
    Kate was crushing her sister’s hand. She loosened her grip, whispered, “Sorry.”
    “Such devotion,” the Countess cooed, “but I see the truth.” She reached across the table and placed a finger on the base of Kate’s throat. “Abandoned by those dearest in the world. The wound hangs over you like a shadow. But I could make it go away. It would be so easy.…”
    She withdrew her hand; a wispy gray tendril clung to her fingertip. She seemed to be drawing it out of the center of Kate’s chest. As it pulled free, Kate gasped.
    “What did you …”
    “What have I done? My sweet little Kat, I’ve set you free! Oh, the weight you’ve had to bear! Can’t you feel how it’s worn you down, little by little, every day of your life? But it’s gone now, all the pain and hurt, all the fear; I’ve taken it away. Imagine living that way always.”
    She was right, Kate thought. It was as if she could breathe for the first time in years.
    “Say the word, and you’ll never feel it again.”
    The tendril drifted in the air, still clinging to her fingertip. Kate thought back to her mother leaning down, telling her to watch over her brother and sister, and though the memory was there, the feeling of her mother’s love, of that last kiss, was gone.
    “Give it back.”
    “Are you sure, mon ange ? There’s a great deal of pain here.”
    “Give it back.” If holding on to that one moment meant a lifetime of pain, Kate would take it.
    The Countess shrugged and touched her chest. Kate felt the weight settle on her like a shroud.
    “Well, shall we take a look at what you’ve brought me?”
    The Secretary had been hovering a few feet away, both arms wrapped greedily around the book. Now he scurried forward and placed it in the Countess’s outstretched hands. She let out a small gasp as her fingers touched the emerald cover.
    She was clearly trying to control herself, but still her fingers trembled as she opened it and turned the pages. After a minute, and with obvious effort, she set the book aside.
    Kate heard her whisper, “Finally.”
    The Countess looked at the children, her eyes glowing brighter than ever. “ Alors, mes enfants , would you like to know what it is you found?”
    The Countess began by saying that to understand where the book came from, the children first had to imagine an age long past when the worlds of magic and men were one, back before the magical world had begun to pull away and humankind had been made to forget—
    “Yeah,” Emma interrupted rudely. “We know all that.”
    “Well,” the Countess continued, her voice still soft and sweet, “the center of the magical world, the seat of the highest learning and power, was Alexandria. Or Rhakotis, as it was then known, where the great desert met the sea. The city was ruled by a council of wizards who traced their line back to the dim beginnings of the world. Their knowledge was ancient, primordial. Passed down from master to student for thousands of years. But powerful as they were, they saw their time was ending, that the age of humans was approaching, and they feared the day they would be forgotten.
    “You see”—and here the Countess smiled at Kate and Emma—“though wizards, they were also men. And like men throughout time, they could not imagine a world where they would cease to matter. So what did they do, these wise, foolish men? They wrote their secrets down, those things said at the birth of the universe, the words spoken aeons ago, in the darkness and the silence, to call everything into being, all so that they, through their knowledge, would endure.”
    The Countess laughed, but it was not the bright, gay laugh from before. The sound was hard, scornful. “Their ancestors had understood. Some things are too powerful to be controlled by any one person. For this reason, the knowledge had always been divided among the council, with none knowing exactly what the others possessed. In this way, there was safety. When it was