Worlds Unseen by Rachel Starr Thomson (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📖

He did not smile, but nodded seriously, and frowned. “I am sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to-but I have been dreaming, and the dream was not eager to let me go before it had run its course.”

“What did you dream?” Maggie asked in a whisper.

“That is not a question to ask, Little One,” Jerome said. “Every man’s dreams are his own.”

“Professor Huss said that you will take over for him when he is gone,” Maggie said. She was curious to know more about him.

He nodded. “I will.”

“Do you look forward to that?” Maggie asked.

“No,” he told her. “For me to be master means that my own master must be dead, and he is like a father to me.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Even so, perhaps I could look forward to it if I believed that the future would be as the past.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Underground University of Pravik has existed for hundreds of years, teaching and keeping hope alive. And whether the masters of the University have known it or not, their work has all been for one final goal-that the Eastern Lands might wrench themselves free from the grasp of the Empire. We’re very close to reaching that goal now. Very close. We work toward the day when we will change the world.” Jerome seemed lost in his own reflections for a moment. “We have been free in the past,” he said. “We can be so again. The Eastern Lands are headed for war, and the university will be at the forefront of it.”

“I should think you would be glad,” Maggie said. “I was at the castle tonight-I heard what you said. You will make a great leader.”

Jerome smiled sadly and said, “Ah, but you see, Little One, I do not want it to come in my time. I urge it on, I speak words to inspire and give courage because that is my part in this story, and all the while I am a coward in my own heart. Peace is a dreadful thing to break, Maggie.”

“Must it be broken, then?” Maggie asked. “Why not continue to live as we have, under the Empire?”

“We cannot,” Jerome said. “A man I know says that the peace of the Empire is the peace of death. He is right-and even he does not realize the truth of it all. We seek to bring not only revolution, but resurrection.”

They stopped talking, but the silence was not awkward. They looked into each other’s eyes, searched there, and both found that they were at home.

“I also dreamed tonight,” Maggie said after a long while.

Jerome was very close to her now, but neither knew when the other had moved. He smiled gently.

“What did you see?” he whispered.

Maggie started to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. “I don’t think I can tell you,” was all she could say.

*

Nicolas did not dream, but neither did he sleep well. At last his restlessness awoke him altogether. He lay in the darkness and replayed thoughts of the day. He felt closed in behind the city walls-like a spirit wishing to leave an ailing body. He had been curious about the scroll, and for Maggie’s sake he had wanted Huss to explain himself, but all of his curiosity was gone now. He only wanted to get outside. To get away.

She needs me, he thought.

Not anymore, his own mind answered back.

He closed his eyes tightly and tried to shut out the feelings, but for a moment he thought the breeze was blowing, and it smelled like falling leaves and a new dawn.

It was still early. If he left soon enough he could be out of the city in time to truly smell the dawn. Out, to welcome the sun. He could already feel the roughness of a forest path under his feet.

Slowly, quietly, Nicolas climbed out of bed. His mattress creaked slightly in protest, but he paid it no mind. He pushed open his bedroom door, and it made no sound; nor did his feet as he stepped into the hallway.

Jerome was laying outside of Maggie’s door, breathing deeply, a sword by his side. He was stretched out so that no one could get through the door without waking him.

Nicolas stepped deftly over the young man. He, who could hear all, could easily keep from being heard. He was grateful for it.

*

Maggie awoke with the gentle feeling of sunlight on her face. It was bravely filtering its way through the grime on the windowpane, illuminating a tiny room with a layer of dust on everything and cobwebs in the corners.

The house was silent. Maggie was struck by the feeling that everyone was gone, and she was the only one left in the house-or in the world, for that matter. She sat up and swung her legs out of bed, tucking her unruly auburn hair behind her ears.

The door creaked loudly when she opened it. The sound only deepened her sense of aloneness. There was no one in the hallway, and the doors to both Nicolas’s room and Huss’s study were closed.

Maggie slowly padded down the hallway, rubbing her arms for comfort. She looked to her left, where she could see over the banister to the ghostly house downstairs. She jumped as grey eyes met hers, and then the cat dropped down and stalked past her. She almost laughed at her own nerves. She neared the door to Huss’s study and heard low voices talking on the other side. Breathing an embarrassed sigh of relief, she raised her hand to knock, but before her knuckles fell on the door, words made their way through it to her ears. Her hand stayed raised in mid-air as she listened.

“The boy died early this morning,” a familiar woman’s voice said. “There was nothing I could do.”

“I am sorry, Libuse,” said Huss.

“He deserves to be buried with princes, Master Huss,” said the woman. “And I cannot even risk taking him to an undertaker for fear that his dying in my house will shed suspicion on me.”

“Send him back to the country,” Huss said, softly, “as you promised you would. His comrades will give him a burial fit for princes, if not among them.”

“Yes,” Libuse said. “My carriage can carry a dead body as well as a live one.”

There was a long pause, and Libuse said, “If only last night…”

“If onlys do us no good, my lady,” Huss said. “You know that as well as I do. Better, perhaps.”

Maggie felt suddenly guilty for eavesdropping. She knocked sharply on the door.

“Come in,” called Huss.

Maggie opened the door. The woman from the night before was sitting at the table with Huss. Neither Nicolas nor Jerome were in the room.

Libuse’s hair was plaited and hung nearly to her waist. She wore a blue dress made of expensive cloth and tailored beautifully. She held her head high. Her back was straight, and her face was solemn and lined with a grief that belied her relative youth. She was beautiful and regal, and Maggie felt embarrassed in her presence.

The woman stood when Maggie entered the room. She took Huss’s hand and squeezed it warmly.

“Thank you, Professor,” she said. “You are a great strength to me.”

Huss smiled. “Perhaps I am,” he said. “Or perhaps I am a snare to you.”

The woman smiled without mirth. “Be that as it may,” she said. “I am glad to be caught in your trap.”

She turned to Maggie and motioned for her to sit down. “Come,” she said. “Master Huss tells me you have much to talk about. I will not stay to prevent you.” She smiled, and her smile was kind. She made sure that Maggie was seated comfortably before she left the room.

“Eat,” Huss said, handing Maggie a sticky roll. “Breakfast is a rare occasion in this house, and I do not mean to eat it alone.”

Maggie obeyed awkwardly. The table held a plate of pastries, a pot of some dark liquid that was not tea but smelled good, and a bowl of fresh fruit.

“This looks good,” Maggie said, venturing to look Huss in the face. His expression was open and kind.

“Yes it does,” he said. “Libuse is good not to call on me empty-handed. She knows that an old professor like me does not earn the wages of a king. Also, when my head is buried in my books I often forget to eat.”

“Who is she?” Maggie asked. Her fingers were sticky from the roll, and she resisted the urge to lick them.

“She is a princess,” Huss said, enjoying the look of surprise on Maggie’s face. “Yes,” he repeated, “A princess of the ancient days. Her ancestors ruled this land from Pravik Castle before the days of the Empire. In deference to her heritage, Libuse is allowed to serve on the Governing Council of the Eastern Lands. As do I. The council answers to the Emperor, of course.”

As an afterthought, Huss added, “She was also a student of mine once.”

Maggie said, “Old Dan said you were a student at the university, but he didn’t know you’d gone on to be a teacher. I planned to look for you through the school when we came here, but I didn’t dream I’d find you so quickly.”

“I am a scholar,” Huss said. “I would chafe at anything else. Teaching is the only way of earning a living that suits me, although I prefer studying to trying to teach the thick-headed subjects of the Empire anything. Of course,” he said, his eyes gleaming, “I do find a gem hidden in the mire once in a while. When I do, my teaching becomes unorthodox.”

Huss reached for the pot and poured Maggie a cup of the thick liquid. “Drink,” he said. “It’s far more palatable than it looks.”

Maggie reached for the cup and took a sip. The taste was bittersweet and not unpleasant. She took another sip, and became conscious that Huss was watching her very closely.

She put the cup down and rubbed her arm. “Where’s Nicolas?” she asked.

“Gone,” Huss said.

“Gone?” she repeated, alarmed at first. She calmed herself down and asked, “When will he be back?”

“When it suits him, I suppose,” Huss said, his eyes still on Maggie’s face. He poured himself a cup of the dark liquid. “He left us sometime last night. When I looked in on him this morning he had already departed.”

Maggie sat in silence, too shocked to speak. “Why would he leave?” she asked at last, quietly. Huss didn’t answer, and she kept talking, mostly to herself. “It’s not like he said he would stay… all he promised to do was bring me here, and he did that.”

Huss spoke now. “Your friend is an unusual young man,” he said. “And a Gypsy, at that. Perhaps the wanderlust took him, and he found our city closing in on him too much.”

Maggie nodded. She tried not to show the tears in her eyes. “I’m sure that was it,” she said.

“Perhaps,” Huss said. He was silent a moment, then said abruptly, “Perhaps not. But you came to me with questions of your own, and today I mean to answer them as best I can. So we will have to stop mourning the flight of our wild bird, and get to work.”

He stood. Maggie started to stand with him, but he motioned for her to sit back down. “Finish your breakfast,” he said.

Maggie nodded and ate a few more bites, but the news of Nicolas’s disappearance had stolen her appetite. Huss took a book from his shelves and leafed through it