The Prophet Page 7

  Vin, moving fast, spun to face whoever addressed him. He pointed the gun at Hazen, causing him to slide to a stop and lift his hands. Vin then moved the gun back and forth between Renny and Hazen.

  Mino, who’d only this moment broken his vow of silence, stepped out of the stable. The pudgy monk held a shotgun aimed at Vin, and he stepped forward to stand in the yard a few body lengths from Vin.

  Vin scoffed. “Mino? Really? Everyone here knows you aren’t going to shoot-”

  Mino fired, hitting Vin square in the chest. The tall man fell backward to the dirt. His head rolled to face Hazen, but his eyes never blinked again.

  Several hiding monks emerged at once and ran to Oryan’s body to check him. Mino held his gun at the ready and checked Vin, kicking the gun from the man’s hand.

  “Renny!”

  Hazen ran to her as she slumped to sit on the ground. He knelt beside her, his whole body numb with cold now, and pulled her into a hug. She shook in his arms.

  Jazzmon ran out of the temple and pushed monks aside to reach Oryan. When she stood over him and saw he was for sure dead, her face twisted and she sank to her knees to cry over him.

  Seth arrived to the small crowd. He put a hand on Mino’s shoulder before coming to the prophets.

  Renny sniffed and looked up at him. “Lhamo? Is he really dead? That first shot we heard…”

  With a single nod, Seth glared over at Vin’s corpse.

  Hazen looked where someone had accidentally kicked the black remains of Renny’s notebook.

  Was this all for nothing? he thought.

  Jazzmon continued to wail.

  8

  The…

  Two weeks later, Hazen stood with an arm around Renny as they watched a jeep drive off with Jazzmon. An urn was tied to the roof of the jeep. Without argument, Seth had allowed Jazzmon to use Gyantse’s local phone bar and make travel arrangements. She was taking Oryan’s remains home to their Kota community in Scandinavia.

  The three remaining prophets had parted with promises to stay in touch, but Hazen doubted Jazzmon would want to remember what had happened here.

  This whole prophet thing works in partners, thought Hazen. I still have Renny, thank God. But Jazzmon must feel so alone… I’ll have to keep tabs on her. She’s a fellow nightmare-er, after all. Either of us could turn into Vin.

  Renny wiped a tear. “Have you still had no visions?”

  “No. Not a single one. You?”

  She shook her head and watched the jeep as it grew smaller and smaller down the highway.

  They weren’t sure what the sudden stop of visions meant. None of them had had a vision since Oryan’s death. Renny and Hazen had talked about this while Jazzmon kept to herself, and they were sure their work wasn’t finished.

  Hazen looked along the temple walls and saw no one nearby. He lowered his voice just the same. “I know you recited the prophecies for Seth to officially record, but did you tell him about your new Interceder dream?”

  “No, I haven’t said anything to anyone. I never even wrote about it in the book Vin burned, so even Lhamo didn’t know. Lhamo probably read what I recorded about your Interceder vision, but… Well, he’ll never tell anyone either.” She swallowed and looked freshly saddened.

  Hazen kissed her forehead. “Come on. Seth wanted to see us once Jazzmon left.”

  They walked back through the temple gate. A vulture cried above as it flew from the mountains, and Hazen wondered if this was a scavenger who’d picked at Vin’s remains. The Kota had given him a sky burial on the side of a mountain, leaving his body to return to nature any way it pleased.

  It’s a creepy ancient custom, thought Hazen, but practical. And none of us wanted to give Vin a funeral, anyway. Let the birds have him.

  He decided not to point out the vulture to Renny.

  They walked into the temple and to the library, where Seth had told them to meet. It was a small room, much smaller than Hazen’s father’s study. But it was cozy, with a few soft chairs to sit in and a desk from which Lhamo had conducted Kota business. Now Seth sat at this desk, looking at mail collected from Gyantse. Books lay open on the table, all in a language Hazen couldn’t read.

  Seth looked weary as he lifted his head to see them enter. “How are you both?”

  “Okay,” said Renny.

  Hazen shrugged.

  “Hmm.” Seth leaned back in the wooden chair. “Mino and I have talked. We don’t feel it’s right to keep you here anymore now that your visions have stopped. And we thought we were keeping you safe here, but…”

  Hazen scowled. “Are you kicking us out?”

  “No. You’re welcome to stay if you wish, but you should be free to go home. Be young and in love while you can.”

  Hazen blushed and glanced at Renny to see her looking anywhere but at him.

  Seth grinned and changed the subject by patting a notebook on the desk. “Renny, I’ll be eternally grateful for your good memory. We’ll translate these prophecies and have the monks make as many copies as they can. The prophecies won’t be lost again, I promise you.”

  Renny took a breath and nodded. “Glad I could help.”

  Hazen frowned. “What if our visions start back up? Should we come back?”

  “You’re of course welcome back any time. But you told us before that with every prophecy you recorded, you had fewer and fewer visions. Maybe they’ve stopped now not only because one of your partners was lost. Maybe the prophecies are simply…finished.”

  It took every bit of willpower not to look at Renny.

  We both feel like there’s at least one more, he thought. But would it do any good to tell Seth that? I don’t want to make these monks worry we’re missing something. I don’t want them to think they’ve failed somehow. Seth and Mino have been through a lot too. So shouldn’t we keep this half-envisioned prophecy to ourselves? Maybe it’s stopped for a reason. We weren’t supposed to prophesy about it yet, for some reason…. Fate’s controlled so much of our lives. I’m making this decision now. And I think I’m right anyway.

  “Well,” he finally said to Seth, “if we ever have more visions, we’ll tell you.”

  Renny nodded. “And I have a feeling we’ll come back someday.”

  Seth remembered something and stood, came around the desk, and picked up an envelope from a pile on a chair. “Renny, if you could, give this to your brother. I can’t get back State-side for a while, or I’d give it to him myself. Last time Lhamo spoke to him, your brother wanted to join the Kota community in Utah once he’d finished his PhD. I think he’d be graduated by now, correct?”

  Renny nodded with a proud smile.

  “If he’s still interested, could you give this letter to him?”

  Renny took the envelope. “Can I ask what it says?”

  “It’s Lhamo’s thoughts on how your brother might help the people who come to us for assistance – counseling, that kind of thing. And I added in a personal note about how much his sister means to us.” Seth winked.

  Renny started to tear up again and went in for a hug. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Miss you too, kiddo.”

  To Hazen’s surprise, the big man reached out an arm and pulled him by the front of his robes to join their embrace.

  “Oof.” But Hazen laughed and hugged the old monk tight.

  Seth released them, tears in his eyes. “I’ve grown very fond of you too, Hazen. What you four did here will mean a lot to the world someday. Maybe that time will be soon, maybe decades from now, maybe centuries. But these prophecies will matter. I really, truly believe that.”

  Hazen nodded his thanks and bowed low to the Kota monk.

  Seth returned the bow, then smiled. “Okay, you two. Get out of here.”

  A few hours later, Hazen met Renny at the temple gates. He once again wore normal clothes, and the softness of his hoodie surprised him. Renny wore jeans, a sweater, and boots. She too looked as if she hardly
remembered what real clothes felt like.

  Together, they tossed their few bags into the back of the jeep they’d called from town. It’d take several hours to cross the beautiful terrain to Lhasa, where they had plane tickets waiting.

  “Ready?” asked Hazen.

  Renny opened the backseat door and climbed in. Hazen sat beside her, and when they were ready the driver started their long trek across Tibet. They sat in silence for some time, taking in the sights.

  “So what do we do now?” Renny asked at last.

  “I guess whatever we want. Weird feeling, right?”

  She nodded. “Are you going to work for your dad at the World Space Program?” She scrunched her face. “When I had that dream about visiting your dad, I saw him offering you a job. That’s part of what you two talked about when you left me in his library, right?”

  He’d never suspected she knew this. “Yeah, Dad offered me a job. But I doubt it’d be a good fit.” He looked down at his hoodie. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for a corporate environment.”

  She rolled her eyes with a grin. “I’m serious, Hazen. What do you want to do?” She looked out her window. “Now that our visions have stopped, there’s no reason we have to stick together anymore.”

  He snorted. “Yes, there is. I’m in love with you.”

  Her head whipped around, eyes wide as she looked back at him. “Oh…”

  Hazen leaned in and quickly kissed her on the lips. Then he sat back and grinned at her.

  She smiled at him. “Well, in that case… How’d you feel about joining the Kota community in Utah with my brother? At least for a while, so we can show him the ropes. And I’ve kinda gotten used to doing good. Maybe we can help people there too. What do you think?”

  “Sounds like a great idea.”

  9

  The Interceder

  Once in Lhasa, Hazen was starving and stopped at the market while Renny went ahead to the airport. He couldn’t help but remember being here with the others. When they’d first arrived, they had to wait for their ride to Gyantse, so they’d killed time by touring the holy sites of Lhasa. Hazen had pointed out a modern fire extinguisher on the side of a half-ruined temple, and Oryan said, “That’s a little too on the nose, don’t you think?” This had made them all laugh, but it was also sobering as they explored the ancient city and its splashes of the West.

  The Lhasa market looked like Hazen remembered too. The shops were tightly packed. Tourists strolled and shopped, pointing and talking in excited voices. Few English-speakers were here, and Hazen realized how much he’d adapted to the constant sound of unknown language. Wafts of cooked meat made his stomach growl.

  Ooh, thought Hazen. I miss fresh meat.

  At a food stand, he ordered by pointing to the menu without shame. When he had his tray of food in hand, he turned into the common area of the market’s dining tables. Hazen found a seat at an empty table, and he shrugged off his backpack to place between his feet. Dressed like a tourist, he pulled his hood further down his shaved head to avoid hawkers. After a satisfying sniff of his food, he dug into his plate of steaming bean noodles, dumplings, and stuffed sausage of undefinable meaty origin. The table next to him was occupied by tourists chatting about whatever they’d found interesting in the museum or the market. Hazen kept to his food and tried to ease back into relative civilization.

  As he took a bite, someone set a bowl across from him. Hazen looked up from under his hood and saw a westerner dressed in a dark coat. The man looked like any number of businessmen he’d seen. There was nothing particularly interesting about him. He smiled at Hazen, his gray eyes studying Hazen’s face.

  “Mind if I join you?” He sounded American.

  Hazen motioned with his utensil that the man was free to sit.

  The man sat and glanced at his bowl of porridge with an odd look. He faced Hazen and again smiled. “I’m Troy Kandoya. Sorry if I’m bothering you – you looked deep in thought. But I’ve been stuck on a bus with locals for an hour and it’d be nice to speak English again.”

  Hazen managed to return the man’s smile. “No, it’s fine. I’m Hazen Stephenson. Nice to meet you.” He wiped sauce off his hand and shook Troy’s hand. He scowled in thought. “Kandoya… I know that name.”

  Troy shrugged but had a slight grin. “So what brings you to these parts?” His eyes lifted to Hazen’s shaved head under his hood. “Pilgrimage?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Why do I know that name? thought Hazen. Kandoya… I know that name.

  “I was with a group,” he said carefully. “We were on a soul-searching journey, I guess you’d call it.” He took a bite of food and hoped he wouldn’t have to explain more.

  “Hmm.” Troy hadn’t touched his food. “On your own now?”

  “No, my partner…girlfriend went to the airport already. We’re going home, first to L.A., then Milwaukee for a while.”

  “Wisconsin?” Troy grinned. He was the chatty sort. “I’m originally from the Midwest myself. Small world.”

  Hazen saw no point in responding and shoveled more noodles into his mouth.

  “Was it just the two of you traveling together?”

  Hazen stopped mid bite and shook his head. “No, we came with friends. One of them was killed.”

  Troy watched Hazen’s next several bites. His voice changed, sounding more somber now. “I’m sorry about your friend. These are strange times we live in. The end times, some say. Though I’d say it’s only an end time. Ages come and go. Dynasties rise and fall.” He lifted his hands to indicate their surroundings. “At several points in our history, we’ve feared the end. I imagine that will continue to happen for many futures.”

  A noodle slipped off Hazen’s lip back into his bowl. He sat back, appetite forgotten. “You’re one of us, aren’t you?”

  If this guy’s legit, he thought, he’ll know what I mean.

  Troy rested his elbows on the table and continued to speak in his new tone. “No, Hazen. I’m not a prophet. Not exactly.”

  “But you know about us? About the Kota? Are you here to make me change some future?”

  Troy shook his head. “No. I’d never make you do anything. However ironic it is, I’m a strong believer in free will.”

  “Ironic? Ironic how?”

  “I am he who will do the work, and he who will do the work alone.”

  Hazen’s mouth hung open. “You… What?”

  Troy lifted an eyebrow.

  “How do you know those words?”

  “I’m the Interceder, the Bearer brother you and Renny Nado envisioned. I’m here from the future.” He grinned. “I never get tired of saying that.”

  “You’re…” Hazen swallowed.

  Oh, my God, he thought. He really is who he says. He knows the words Renny planned for the prophecy, and she never told anyone but me.

  “If you’re the Interceder, why didn’t you intercede and save Oryan?”

  Troy frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t change fated futures any more than you can, Hazen. I’m sorry about Oryan. Believe me, I am. But I did save Renny.”

  A busser came to their table. The young, native woman wore an American band T-shirt with a worker’s pin declaring her name to be ‘Kokko.’

  Hazen knew exactly what Renny might’ve said, and he let out a short laugh before covering his face in his hands.

  “You finished?”

  “Yeah, sorry.” Hazen sat back so she could take his tray.

  Kokko looked at Troy’s untouched porridge. “You finished too?”

  Troy smiled at the native and nodded. “Yes. Turns out I wasn’t hungry.”

  Not caring one way or the other, Kokko took their trays to dispose of the contents.

  Hazen studied the man across from him. “You exist in the lights… You don’t eat, do you?”

  “Nope. No need. And no point. I can’t taste or smell anything. If it makes you feel better, I have a weirder life
than yours.”

  Hazen had a million questions, but he started with, “You saved Renny?”

  “Yes. Vin thought he saw what was fated to happen to her, but…well, he was deranged. I saw what needed to happen with Renny’s fate. I don’t want to confuse you, so please don’t ask more. The important thing is, she’s alive.”

  Hazen let out a lungful of air as he thought this over.

  “Hazen Stephenson…” Troy peered into his face. “The great Kota prophet. In all my travels, I’ve never met anyone I’ve wanted to meet half as much as you.”

  Hazen snorted a laugh.

  “No, I’m serious, young man.” Troy chuckled at this and rubbed his chin in thought. “Actually, you’re my elder. I’m not sure how to address you.”

  “I’m your elder? But you’re…” Then he understood. “Are you even born yet?”

  “No. But, the future in your visions isn’t as distant as you think.”

  Hazen remembered. “The WSP spacecraft…”

  “Indeed.” Troy grinned.

  “But so many other things seemed more futuristic. We saw hover cars, that space station, glowing money, futuristic weapons-”

  “Well, okay, yes. That future is a long way out yet.” Troy waved this off. “But the virus. The swirls opening. The Kota traveling through the portal. That all happens in your lifetime, Hazen. This destined series of events kicks off relatively soon. I suppose you could say it’s already begun with you prophets.”

  This was an odd thing to hear, and Hazen took a moment while absentmindedly looking at the people around the market.

  “What you’ve seen matters, Hazen. What Renny’s written will give those in the future hope that the world can be restored. You’ve given me the only direction I’ll have.”

  Hazen made a face. “But we left the prophecies so vague. If that’s the only instruction you’ll have, would it be better to write things out exactly like we saw them?”

  Troy sighed and looked past Hazen in thought. Then he chuckled. “We’ll never know. What’s done is done. This is how things are meant to go, for whatever reason.”