“Uh, Elder Aaij?” Edda says. She is standing to the left of the big, chubby man, while Aline is on his right. Rew keeps to herself, closer to the entrance. “Can he hear us?” Edda asks Rew.
“Only if you will it. You do not, thus he cannot. Were he a trained Walker of the Mind, his dream sense would immediately react to your presence.”
“So we are invisible,” Edda says, wide-eyed. “So sexy! How did you bring us here, Elder Rew? Into his dream, I mean? I want to learn the trick!”
“Regretfully, the Second Wake and the melding of minds are the exclusive domain of the Path in the Shadow, and I am forbidden to share such knowledge at the moment. Furthermore, although the Second Wake grants considerable power to the traverser, it is also dangerous—mortally so. Proper training is of the essence. Training which only the team that tops the trial shall be granted access to.”
“So unfair,” Edda mutters.
Rew says, “At the very least you do already possess a critical piece of knowledge: that you must erase all hostile intentions from your human mind to enter the mind of another human. This is indeed new to me as well. I shall reveal this crucial fact to the other trial candidates when my duties in this session are over.”
“No, please!” Edda says. “Keep it between us, okay?”
“Alas, I cannot. It is in the interest of the Reseeding effort to promote the worthiest human into Walkers of the Mind.”
“What is the Reseeding effort?” Aline asks.
Rew doesn’t reply immediately. She stares at Aline in silence for a second or two before saying, “It is the ultimate reason we marai revealed our presence to you.” Her voice is a notch slower than usual. “It is how we satisfy our urge to save humankind from extinction and make it bloom anew.”
“Aha,” Edda says. “Well, we’re sure as Dem in, huh, sister?”
“And we’ll begin,” Aline says, pointing a finger at the sitting man, “by saving Elder Aaij’s life. How do we convince him to leave his guard post by New Year’s Eve at midnight?”
“Hmm,” Edda says, tapping her chin. “We test some ideas on this dream until we find the one with which we can get him out.”
“Easier said than done,” Aline says. “Got any ideas?”
“Nope. Let’s brainstorm.” She squints at the guard. “What do we really know about Elder Aaij?”
Something barks and begins to scratch the outside of Joyousday House’s door, attracting the immediate attention of Elder Aaij. He stands heavily up and opens the door, a frown on his face.
“Romulus!” he says, as the German shepherd leaps in, puts his front paws on his belly and begins to whine. “What are you doing here, boy? Ugh.” He rolls his eyes with exasperation and sighs. “Theo left the gate open again, didn’t he, boy?” He scratches the brown fur behind the pointy ears, and closes the door.
The dog taps on the door, asking to be let out.
“Sit there and stay quiet, you,” he says sternly, pointing to the corner of the room. “You should’ve stayed home, boy. It’s gonna be a long, boring night.”
A sudden, insistent pounding on the door makes Elder Aaij startle.
“Martijn, open!” The call comes muffled through the door.
Elder Aaij frowns. “Jeroen?” He stands and opens the door. “What—?”
“It’s the tournament, mensa! Come.” The excited man, also in his mid-twenties, takes Elder Aaij’s sleeve and pulls him out of the Joyousday House and onto the open grass field. “They’re about to begin.”
The field is full of small tables, more than a dozen, each with two people facing each other, a chess board between them. Electric spotlights make the pieces gleam in the middle of the night. Elder Aaij gapes at the sight of hundreds of people standing in excited silence beside the tables, watching the players open their games.
“Let’s go watch table one,” Jeroen says, putting his arm around Elder Aaij’s shoulders. “Regina Milling is playing there!”
“The world champion? In Lunteren?!”
“It’s the Century Tournament, mensa.” Jeroen smiles widely at his friend and pushes him over to the table where more people stand. “Everybody is here!”
Elder Aaij shuts his eyes and purses his lips. “Sorry, Jeroen. I’m on duty.” He turns around and begins to walk towards the Joyousday House.
“What? Are you seriously going to miss this?!”
Elder Aaij shrugs with resignation. “You make sure to note Milling’s game, all right?”
“Don’t you dare, mensa. Just lock the goahdamn door! Who’s going to break in with all this going on out here, and the Century Festival down there?” He points down south.
Elder Aaij turns a sidelong smile towards him. “Say, wanna come home tomorrow to analyze the games together behind a beer?” He enters the building and shuts the door.
“That was close!” Edda says, frustration drenching her voice. She waves an impatient hand at the chess tournament, and the people, the tables—even the spotlights—all vanish in the quiet of the night, leaving the pristine lawn behind.
“Perhaps for the best,” Aline says. “I would think getting Elder Aaij out of a building should be easier than haunting the dreams of the chess federation brass to organize a tournament here.”
“I’m not so sure, sister.”
“That is some work ethic,” Aline says, staring at the closed door. “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life.”
Edda turns to Rew, standing next to them near the entrance to the Joyousday House. “Why don’t you just, you know,” she wiggles her fingers, “use your persuasion thing on him? That was so close that I’m sure if you increase his enthusiasm, or his boredom, just a tiny bit, it will prove too much even for him to resist.”
“I shall not solve your conundrums, Redeemed van Dolah. My assistance outside the required Second Wake activities is forbidden. The trial is aimed at
