Chapter 14
“Wait, I don’t understand,” I say. “So what if the stone reacts only for me? Why does that change anything?”
“My ring is staridium.”
I nod. “Yep, the stone cut from the mountain, I know. God barred Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. Afterward, as a sign He still loved them, He broke a piece from the gate in the wall and gave it to them so they could find their way back.”
Mom says, “Eve gave the stone to her youngest daughter, and then when Mahalesh’s daughters were on the brink of destruction, she gave each one a tiny piece of the stone and divided the earth between them to end the fighting.”
“Except for Shenoah,” I say.
“Correct. Mahalesh’s older sister by just one year was her dearest friend. Mahalesh gave the smallest piece of the stone to her. And she carved out a chunk of land for Shenoah, too.”
“You know, if Mahalesh hadn’t given a stone to Shenoah, we’d be mahaleshians.” I tut. “Evians sounds much better, so I suppose it’s good that Shenoah was an amazing sister.”
Mom raises one eyebrow. “Focus, Chancery. The point is that there’s a prophecy given by Eve herself that empresses do not often share. It predicts that one day, thousands of years after Eve’s death, one of her line will—”
“Isn’t everyone technically ‘one of her line’?”
Mom’s not in a joking mood, judging from her scowl.
“Sorry. One of the empresses will do what?”
“This isn’t a joke.”
I shake my head. “I know. I am sorry. It’s just hard to believe that any prophecy from thousands of years ago is really predicting anything that will happen, up to and including my strange reaction to a rock.”
“Nevertheless, the prophecy states that an empress will reunite Eve’s descendants and regain admittance to the Garden. By so doing, this empress will obtain salvation for all mankind.”
I try my best to look like I believe in any of this, but I have to ask, “Salvation? From what exactly? Avarice? Elitism? Too much perfection? Oh, I know. Overdose of preservatives.”
Mom’s lips compress tightly. “Mother had lots of theories, but ultimately, we don’t know.”
“Why’s this special prophecy such a big secret? Seems like keeping it quiet is a good way to possibly lose it.”
“Shenoah and Mahalesh’s daughters agreed to keep all of Eve’s prophecies secret. Only the current empress of each family has access to them. I’m violating that rule to explain this to you.”
I can barely force out my next question. “Why?”
“For generations, as soon as she reads the prophecies, every new empress has believed she would reunite the families and claim the right to re-enter the Garden of Eden. I know I certainly did, and Mother’s journals confess she did too.”
“And you think, somehow, I’m actually the one.”
Mom’s expression is grim. “No one has ever succeeded in uniting two families for more than a few days.”
“Clearly I was chosen for my strong leadership skills, my ferocity, and my deft political skill.”
“You have depths you don’t yet fathom,” Mom says. “And hopefully you’ll have decades with me to prepare before you need to take over.”
“I don’t even want to take over.”
Mom slams her hand down on her dresser. “I don’t care what you want anymore. We have an obligation, and you may be the only person who can save all of us.”
My eyes widen. Save the world? Me? By unlocking the entrance back to the Garden of Eden? Preposterous. “Do you even know where it is? The mythical Garden?”
Mom shakes her head. “I thought it might be on one of the Hawaiian islands. After all, they’re perfect almost all year, but I’ve combed them, and Puerto Rico, and every other paradise I could seize.” She leans against the dresser. “No one alive knows where the Garden is located as far as I know. Eve, if she remembered, took that information to her grave. In fact, as the world has shrunk with new technology, I sometimes wonder whether it’s not more of a vault of sorts, holding only answers. It’s awfully hard to hide locations these days of anything with any decent size.”
“Which means that even if I bring the stones together, it won’t help. We have no idea what to do with them.”
Mom takes my hand. “Chancery, the prophecy identifies the queen who will reunite the kingdoms specifically.”
As much as I want to dismiss her words, my heart falters. The EMP. The fire. The ring’s odd reaction. What if it means something? What if I’m suddenly expected to do things? Save people. An overwhelming sense of despair seizes me. That stupid rock chose the wrong sister. I can’t even save myself or my half-human best friend.
“You may recognize bits of it. Eve’s original journals refer to it, and it’s referenced again in the few copies we have of Mahalesh’s journals. There are even obscure references elsewhere. Obviously someone couldn’t keep quiet about it and told their Consort, and so you see mention of it in public places too, like Isaiah chapter five. ‘And he will lift up an ensign to the nations from far, and will hiss unto them from the end of the earth; and behold, they shall come with speed swiftly... And in that day they shall roar against them like the roaring of the sea: and if one look unto the land, behold darkness and sorrow, and the light is darkened in the heavens thereof.’”
“Umm. I’m pretty sure that doesn’t say anything about a woman reuniting the world, or a ring or an EMP.” If her prophecy is this obscure, I feel way better about my chances. I just need to convince her that it doesn’t say what she thinks it says. Bless prophets for being so obtuse all the time.
My mom turns and gazes out her window at the waves crashing against the rocky shore, lost in thought. I wonder if my lack of understanding disappoints her. Am I already failing in my new role as Alamecha’s salvation?
“Isaiah never makes any sense,” I mutter. “What does that even mean?”
“You’re being too literal.” My mom turns back to face me. “Isaiah’s writings are about symbols. He was describing things he’d seen from so far in the future that although he understood them, no words he could have used would have made sense to the people at his time. How would you describe an iPhone to the early Jews? Or a helicopter? How about a nuclear bomb?”
“Pictures might help.”
“Be serious. An EMP wouldn’t even have done anything a few hundred years ago. It’s an electromagnetic pulse. It destroys electronics and wiring. I was born in a time so different from now that the people I knew then, my mother for example, would be utterly confused were they dropped here among my subjects today.”
“How old are the writings you’ve got from Mahalesh? Wasn’t she born in 3226 BC?”
“She was,” Mom says, “but they’re copies of copies at this point.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Are you at all worried that they’ve morphed?”
Mom stares at her ring. “Do you know how the stone was broken? The stone cut from the mountain was whole when God scooped it out, one solid piece.”
I hadn’t really thought about it. It makes sense, though. A shattered key seems pointless. “Did Eve break it?”
Mom shakes her head. “No, Mahalesh’s sisters hated her, except for Shenoah, but Eve passed the mantle of leadership directly to her anyway. It was smooth. She received an intact key, a complete chunk of stadium that would grant her access to the Garden.”
“Then how?”