Burton held out Vandagelle. “She will help you.”
Now, teetering on the edges of sanity, one of Demitri’s greatest desires was offered to him. Any scientist in the world would die to know the wand’s secrets. But the stigma of his detestable reputation had cut deep. He now believed that he wasn’t worthy. “I can’t.”
But Burton insisted. “You are the only one who can reverse engineer it.” He twisted the wand and it came apart in the middle. Like a thick rope, a series of wires that connected each end separated from each other. “Do you have a parchment and pen?” he asked jokingly.
“My brain is taking notes,” Demitri softly chuckled.
“The wand consists primarily of silica, titanium, and electrical charges you will come to call, electricity. From that, you can build a sonic compressor and a transducer. Once you get that far, the rest is up to you to figure out. There is much more than mechanical parts involved in Vandagelle’s power. She is alive.”
Demitri watched the wand glow as Burton placed it in his hand.
“I am lucky to have met you, Demitri Von Cobb. Good luck,” said Burton.
“Thank you,” Demitri said. “I’ll make you proud…Sensei.” It felt right to call the man who’d taught him everything, sensei, once again.
“You already have,” Burton said.
When Demitri turned to him, Burton was gone. He looked at Vandagelle, his tool to build a better future. With her, he could begin to mend the civilization that he’d broken.
AFTER WAKING, Montague La-Rose found the two heads, Eggward and Grimm, by his side. He felt grateful to have made friends with them. They were caring, good people.
“I suppose you don’t have a vial on you, do you?” Montague asked.
Eggward tilted his head. “A vial?” he asked.
“I do!” said Grimm, holding out the thin glass.
“For what?” asked Eggward.
With his unsullied knife, Montague sliced his hand and held his dripping palm over the vile. It filled up quickly. “Take it.”
Eggward hesitated. He looked as if he were about to cry.
“Please,” said Montague. “After what you and your people have done for us, it’s the least I can do. If it can help, take my blood.”
“Help? It would save us. I don’t know what to say,” Eggward stuttered.
“Say that you’ll stay here, above ground, with us. There can be a life here for you, all of you. We can work together for the betterment of both our people.” Then a thought of the irony humored him. Montague giggled. “I’ve been trying to keep Volpi blood from Nekrums since I could remember. I never thought that by the end of all this I’d be giving it freely to one.”
Montague saw Burton standing barefoot several inches deep in the river shore. He was alone, staring at the rising sun.
“Excuse me,” Montague said.
“Why certainly.” Eggward replied with a bow.
When Montague stood feet from his sensei, he realized how withered the old man had become. Burton was hunched over, scrawnier and paler than ever.
“We need a vacation,” said Montague. “Perhaps the crystal waters and white sandy beaches of the Godgen Peninsula will do. No more magic for me.” He patted his chest, searching for Vandagelle, realizing it wasn’t there. “Your wand! Where is it?”
“She’s safe with Demitri. He will help you. It will be like the old times, except now you must lead,” Burton said. He tried to cough, but didn’t have the strength.
“Sensei, with all of the pain, misery, and suffering here in the physical world, why did you, an angel of heaven, choose to do all of this?” asked Montague.
“It was my fault that the Nekrums came here; why Loche came here. Long ago I tried to hide Gabriel here to protect mankind. But I failed. They found Naan. I don’t know why Source trusted me again. Perhaps I wasn’t the right angel for the mission,” said Burton.
“You told me that a piece of Source or God existed within everyone and everything that existed. You told me that we all make up Source. Source cannot be without even one lifeform missing from the equation, right? If Source granted you permission, then so did we all. You were the only angel for the mission. And this planet is in your debt.” Montague knew that he would never know everything Burton had done for him, to protect him. But there was only one concern he needed to clarify. “Demitri, the host, told me that Rayne wasn’t an angel. Was he lying?”
“We summoned Rayne from the abyss; because he was ready to repent,” said Burton. “There are angels from the heavens above that police all worlds from outside physical reality, and entities defined as demons, disturbed souls held deep in the abyss below. Other than conjuring dark magic, only angels can release them with the consent of the One.”
“Why would the creator ever allow angels to free demons?” Montague asked.
“There are souls in the abyss that are not demons but they fall under the stereotype because of where they come from. Sometimes even demons realize their own evil. They recognize the pain they have inflicted and eventually repent after existing in the abyss just shy of an eternity where darkness voids any hint of love and emotion. But sometimes, good things gone unchanged for too long produce stale living; it paints a pale, unproductive history, and people have a limited experience during their incarnations. Demons are used as catalysts for change, exposing evil to those who’ve never known darkness, just to appreciate the light again. It’s all about balance.” Burton turned to the rising sun. “That golden yellow glow wakes me up in the morning. It provides warmth for my body. It nourishes the plants which then feeds the animals. It provides everything I need for this body to live. It is the cosmic father to the inhabitants of Planet Naan. It is the source of my power…” he looked at Montague. “…and my gateway home,” he said. “I must go now.”
“I will miss you, Sensei,”
