Page 96 of Dark Destiny: A New Thread in the Tapestry

The bus that picked them up in the keep was far too big for ten people. The eight of them, Bowen and Alfie, in a vehicle built for forty, felt for some reason unsettling.

When the windows turned opaque, Yaaf knew they were nearing the village. Sullha had told him what to expect, so he wasn't surprised by that or by the drop in temperature as the bus entered the tunnel and then was lifted by an elevator that was big enough to carry it.

The windows cleared sometime during the ascent, so he could see the walls of the concrete shaft and the cables that were part of the mechanism. Then the lift came to a stop, and the bus rolled off into an underground garage that was much bigger than what the clan had in the keep. It was packed with cars, most of them nearly identical, but some were fancy, and in one corner he spotted several motorcycles parked in a row, and he suddenly craved riding one of those machines.

There were no motorcycles on the island, Dumuz shared with the collective.

"Most people living in the village own a car," Bowen said as the bus doors opened. "All vehicles are equipped with the same autonomous driving system and windows that turn opaque, and they have to stay here because there are no roads up top. Everyone walks, except for those who can't or have a lot of luggage, and they can use golf carts. The village isn't big."

"What about the motorcycles?" Dumuz asked. "They don't have windows that turn opaque, so there is no way to hide the entrance to the village from those who ride them."

"Good observation." Bowen clapped him on the back. "They have to be taken out by another vehicle."

"Makes no sense," Dumuz said. "Why even have them?"

Bowen shrugged. "People enjoy riding them and are willing to take the extra step."

The driver was the first to disembark, and the rest followed. It was the same guy who had helped with the excavation on the island, but now he wore a three-piece suit and looked like the butler he was. He wasn't human, despite looking like one. He was a biomechanical creation, whatever that meant.

"Thank you, Okidu," Bowen said.

The driver dipped his head. "It was my pleasure, Master Bowen."

The Guardian led them to an elevator, and they went up.

The doors opened onto a magnificent glass pavilion.

Sunlight poured through the panes, pooling on the floor, and along the glass walls stood display cases filled with old and broken things that were illuminated like treasures. But the real treasure was the group of familiar people waiting for them, holding balloons.

The mothers and sisters were there, Sullha and Tomek, along with the two scientists and their partners. Behind them, a banner had been attached to the glass wall, with words painted across it in the island language.

WELCOME TO THE VILLAGE.

The collective absorbed the sight, and eight hearts swelled with the kind of emotion they were rediscovering. It had been beaten out of them at thirteen, and what little remained had been eliminated by drugs and the mind merge. They had thought they'd lost it, had sought to feel it through Dimitri by inviting him to share their collective. Then Yaaf's heart had been restarted by Sullha, and the rest of them had gradually learned that they were not as dead on the inside as they'd believed.

Sullha's smile was like a beacon, urging Yaaf to come closer. He crossed the room, took her hand in one of his while Tomek seized the other one, and the three of them stood joined in the middle of the gathering as the mothers and sons found each other around them.

They were absorbed into arms, their names spoken over and over, and Yaaf stood at the center of it holding Sullha's and Tomek's hands and drank it all in.

"Yaaf." Tomek tugged on his hand. "Do you want to see your house? It's really nice. Not nicer than mine and Mama's, but really nice."

"I'd love to," Yaaf said. "Are you going to lead us there?"

Tomek nodded, then looked at Sullha, probably unsure how to get from the pavilion to the houses.

"We will lead together." Sullha smiled at him.

They walked in a loose procession, with Sullha, Yaaf, and Tomek guiding the way.

Bowen fell in step with them. "You're lucky we had so many empty houses in one cluster, so we could put all of you near each other. When stage three of the village was built, the council members and many of the Guardians moved there, vacating their old houses. You have a whole street to yourselves." He gestured ahead, to where a path ran between rows of single-story homes, each low and clean-lined, almost the same as the next, yet each a little different, making it easy not to get confused.

"Not that it can be called a street, since there is no road. Perhaps calling it a lane is more appropriate."

Tomek let go of Yaaf's hand and ran ahead, then turned around and ran back.

"That one's yours." He pointed. "And that one's the others'. And my house is that way, and I counted. It's a hundred steps and then eighty-two more." He frowned up at Yaaf's legs, then at his own. "But you have to divide it. Your legs are three times as big as mine." His frown deepened. "I don't know how to divide yet, so you will have to do it to find out how many steps your legs need."

"About sixty, but I think you're overestimating the length of my strides."