Chapter 23 The Yellow Gates
THE YELLOW GATES
ELLA EMbrACED KAY and Jade before continuing on her route.
“Dinner!” Kay reminded her, Jade poking her head out from the house as Ella jogged into the street.
“I know!” Ella called.
Jade waved the newly delivered parchment as Ella turned back to her route and wrestled the strap of her parchment bag over her shoulder.
She made a couple of additional deliveries through the capital, stopping to purchase a few loaves of bread before deviating from her route and jogging in worn leather boots to a small house on the corner of the East End.
She knocked and waited, bread under one arm with her long leather bag still perching on her other.
She wiped a stream of sweat from her forehead, glancing up at the sun as she felt the sweat trickle down the small of her back, likely staining her tan shirt.
Tying her hair up had done little to stave off the heat.
The door opened, a beautiful woman filling the doorway with a floured apron and long, red hair.
“Hi Marnie,” Ella said, before offering the bread. “I picked up some loaves for you and Edgar.”
“Oh, Ella, dear,” Marnie clapped her hands, reaching out and embracing Ella before taking the loaves. “Thank you so much. I’m so grateful. You don’t have to do this. I don’t know why you do.”
“Oh, and this,” Ella said, shifting to remove a letter along with a small statue of the Spirit of Courage. “Your mail and a carving of the Spirit of Courage. It was blessed this morning.”
Marnie took both, inspecting the Spirit of Courage with a smile before allowing her eyes to flicker back over to Ella, “I will hold onto it and it will give me courage.” She said playfully, like a small girl who’d just been given a magic wand.
Ella smiled. “I have to go, but Spirit’s Blessings to you and Edgar!” she said, waving before jogging off.
She speedily delivered a few other parchments, stopping on a corner as she noticed a man shouting and preaching to the masses about the danger of the Spirit of Wrath.
“It will consume you!” he roared, voice heavy with fear, eyes wild with a kind of distant madness. Ella glanced into her bag as if there might be something in there she could offer.
Patience. Samuel’s voice chided in her head, a reminder of the initial discussion she’d had with him when she’d first seen this man, preaching fear on the streets of the capital. You cannot rush them. The best you can do is stand by and be there when you see they need support.
Even now, watching the man, red beard long and unkept, wooden leg chipped and scratched as it dragged through the dirt, it was hard for her to stay away. It was hard for her to not shelter Valentine like he once had done for her.
But she knew there would be a time, one day, where she would dive into this illusion and be there for him, a stranger in his eyes, but a friend in secret.
She pushed herself to turn away, walking back into the streets to return to the final leg of her route.
She entered the capital building behind the academies and helped herself to a familiar waiting room several floors up.
It was covered in murals of the Spirits.
Without meaning to, she’d come to appreciate them more, eyes resting easily on them with a folder across her chest. Just as Paris had once said, Ella could find the truth in the Spirits, or she could find the lies if she wanted that too.
It seemed that way with everything lately, and Ella had done her best to embrace them.
In the wake of those new philosophies, standing here with the old paintings was the peaceful end to the weekly routine of her new job.
Crow had negotiated a new life for himself with others in the government who knew the truth and had secured her and Kay’s pardon in exchange for their silence.
Silence it seemed was what held this world together, but Ella didn’t resent it.
Strange as it was, she found that she no longer resented anything.
Lately, things were as they were, and the mundane, she’d found pleasant, but in a restless sort of way, like she was sitting in a holding room, waiting to be called forth.
It was a tinnitus, this faint ringing in her ears and most days she found herself able to ignore it in the backdrop of her life.
An assistant entered the room, and beckoned for Ella to enter the office with her delivery. She always saved Crow’s deliveries for last as they required a long hike to the highest point in the city.
Ella walked in slowly to find Crow leafing through a stack of papers.
“Glory looks glorious,” she said, arms crossed over his delivery as she approached a nearby window.
Despite her jest, there was a chasm between them.
She knew there always would be, and they both seemed content, existing on different sides.
They’d reached a kind of silent agreement.
Crow’s new peers didn’t like divers because they knew the truth that the government so vigorously tried to control.
Crow didn’t report her for being a diver, and she didn’t interfere with affairs of state.
Crow chuckled. “Is this why you declined my offer? Paperwork? Want to guess what’s in those hands of yours?”
Ella leaned up against the wall, looking through the great window that captured the fullness of the bustling city in fall. Today was unusually hot for a fall day, and Ella could feel the warmth radiating off the window pane.
“Paperwork?” she asked, “I’ll carry it as long as I don’t have to read it.” She walked over and set it on his desk, stopping by the window again.
Crow noticed her pause, leaning back in his chair as she rested back against the windowsill.
“You have an amazing view here,” she said wistfully.
“You’re not in any rush are you?” Crow asked, “it’s been almost a year. You retired early. You won’t advance your career. You don’t want to go back to The Quiet. You don’t remember anything new and you don’t seem like you’re trying. What are you even still here for?”
Ella sat there for a long time. He was right in that she no longer felt any urgency. It was strange considering how much pressure she’d felt in The Quiet. There had still been a lingering sense of urgency there, but on this side it had been like one long dream.
“It’s only been a month or so in The Quiet. I’ll go back when I’m ready,” she said, looking back at Crow with a forced smile. “I’m waiting.”
There was some truth to that. Despite feeling like she’d managed to press pause on a future that had frightened her, she did feel some genuine reason for being in The Quiet despite that. She was waiting, she just wasn’t sure for what.
“Yeah, but your lover knows it’s been a year for you.
If I was him, I’d be wondering why you’re taking your time,” Crow said, observations as painful as always.
He shook his head and followed her gaze over the city.
He’d done as he’d predicted, earning a position of power.
He lived a comfortable life, but they still only spoke like this in small increments.
Crow had never outright apologized for what he’d done to the team.
He had secured her and Kay’s protection and offered them opportunities of influence on multiple occasions.
Ella had never accepted. Perhaps those were the closest things to an apology that she might expect from a cutthroat strategist.
“I’m meeting Jade and Kay for dinner. They just bought a house together,” Ella said.
She’d been supporting Jade and Kay, among several others, toward the truth of The Quiet.
She was hopeful that they’d wake up soon, though people had to come to the truth on their own way.
She was convinced she would have died in the illusion had it not been for the embolism and Samual’s determined support.
This was like a chain being pulled out of the water, one link pulling the next, and then the next, everyone connected in their transition to a revived state out of The Ocean.
The curse of The Ocean was a rather incredible thing, giving Ella a vast and secret appreciation for the terrible extent of Peter’s power.
However, it also gave her an appreciation for mankind’s ability to find itself again.
The spirit of people had its own power, especially when they had something to believe in.
“That’s good for them,” Crow replied, turning his attention back to his pages. Ella started back off toward the exit. Opening it.
“Ella.”
She turned.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, dipping his quill in the ink well but not looking up.
“You too,” she said, and left.
Walking through the tall government halls overlooking the building, she made her familiar route past the offices to the exit.
Fall had set in and some of the trees had started to turn, Ella stopping short when she noticed a bright tree through a window at the end of the hall.
In all of her rushing, she’d never noticed it.
She took a moment to walk down the hallway.
The bright, yellow color drew her to the window and she watched it evenly as the wind moved through it. Her hands lifted up to the glass, fingers pressing against it, and she watched them as if any moment her hand might move right through it.
As time passed, she turned to leave, looking down a small hall this one connected to. There was a single door at the end, unique from all of the others in that it had a yellow doorknob.
Ella paused.
Yellow.
This hallway hadn’t existed before. She was certain of it.
She approached the door, her fingers grazing the doorknob. She turned it slowly and opened it to find a staircase with a yellow banister.
She glanced back down the hall to find it empty, descending below and closing the door behind her.
The descent felt infinite, with little light to guard her path. Every step on the wooden stairs echoed through a dark room, Ella reaching the end of it to see a large window. Light filtered through even though they were underground, cast over a single white table with a chair on either side.
This white table was not a hallucination.
Sitting in the center of this room it looked how she’d always imagined it.
Much like she’d been drawn into Amiel’s tunnel, she felt a string inside her chest, tugging her toward the seat.
There was something unusual about the truth, that when it finally called, there was no bargaining with it.
The time had come, and as she eased down into the nearest seat, she looked across at the emptiness of the other chair.
This was in both ways the culmination of the past and future, curving into one another to form a point in time that she knew would furthermore reveal herself.
Her hands folded in her lap as she stared across the room, thinking that perhaps the empty chair was her answer when she heard footfalls from behind her.
A door she hadn’t seen clicked closed at the back of the room, and one by one each step carried toward her.
She held her breath as the person passed, fingertips trailing across the table’s surface before landing on the back of the chair in front of her.
At last, he sat, and with eyes that embodied the strength of a hurricane and a smile as light as the spring sun, he simply said, “Hello.”
It was much like the first time they’d met, the time he’d greeted a helpless young girl at the edge of despair as she’d looked on a corpse that, in some ways, she’d pitied and envied. She couldn’t speak for a moment, digesting the truth as it unraveled wordlessly between them.
This was all Peter’s illusion, after all. He had built up every detail. How had she not guessed?
He might be living in it too.
What could she say? She felt like that child again, fighting for the right phrases, but the thoughts blew through her mind like a torrential downpour of noise and chaos, and all she could do was utter the loaded greeting.
“Hello.”