“I apologize. But if I, as you said, scared the Hell out of you, then that’s a good thing. The purer we are, the better our chances of defeating this.”
Maria bristled. “Are you saying I’m not pure?”
He didn’t respond. Maria peered closer and realized that he was grinning.
“You’re just messing with me again, aren’t you, Levi?”
“Yes. Just playing off your words. Sorry about that. But in truth, purity does add strength to our fight. And by purity, I don’t mean being a goody two-shoes. I’m just talking about a healthy body, mind, and spirit. Righ teousness. A sense of self-assuredness and confidence. Making the universe revolve around you—understanding that you are the focal point of all that occurs.”
“That doesn’t sound like purity.”
“But it is, in a sense. Being pure in thoughts and deeds means never second-guessing or doubting them. Knowing that what you’re doing is right and having the determination to see it through. That’s the kind of purity I’m talking about.”
Maria nodded in fake understanding and decided to change the subject. “So where’s Dee?”
“I left her stabled at home. I thought the buggy might attract too much attention at this time of night.”
The clouds parted again, revealing the moon. Light spilled into the thicket. In front of the building, out on the street, a car drove by, bass-heavy music reverberating from the speakers.
“So how did you get here, then?” Maria asked.
Levi smiled. “By other means. Did you get any sleep?”
“No. How about you?”
“I meditated for a bit, but you can’t really call that sleep. Mostly, I just read. Studied. Prepared.”
“Like cramming for an exam?”
Levi shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know for sure. I never had to do that.”
“Amish have schools, too. You never had to stay up late studying for tests?”
“There was no time. We had chores to do. If we got a chance to sleep, then we took it.”
They fell silent for a moment, watching the building. Although a few lights burned, most of the windows were dark. There was no signs of activity or movement.
“Seriously,” Maria whispered. “How did you get here?”
“I told you—by other means of transportation.”
“Magic?”
“No. A taxi cab. I had the driver drop me off several blocks from here and then I walked. I forgot my deodorant, so you might not want to get too close. How about you?”
“I parked a few blocks away, too. But I remembered to put on my deodorant.”
“Now
“Hey, turnabout is fair play. And besides, we’re a team. Remember?”
“That we are. Are you ready?”
Maria shrugged. “I guess.”
Levi took a deep breath, held it, and then exhaled.
“Before we go any farther,” he said, “I have to say something. Regardless of whether you believe or not, you must do as I say from this point on. If you question or falter, it could be very dangerous for us both. Okay?”
“We’re not going to kill a chicken or anything like that, are we?”
“Not for this ritual, no.”
“Okay, then we’re agreed.”
“Good. That’s a relief. We’re going to open a doorway tonight. Remember when I told you that there were ways to enter the Labyrinth and cross space and time, like Nelson LeHorn did?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, this is something different. We don’t want to travel to another world or dimension. We want to transport someone from one point to another right here. On our Earth. To do that, we’re going to create a shortcut—a temporary hole in the Labyrinth’s fabric. That’s not really what it is, but it’s the easiest way to explain it. In any case, we must be quick and sure and cautious. And very,
“Why?”
“Because we don’t want anything else using the doorway. And because we don’t want it getting wider or becoming permanent. That would be very bad.”
Levi’s demeanor had changed. He seemed more solemn. Finished speaking, he reached behind a thorny bush and pulled out a wicker basket.
“Are we having a picnic?” Maria whispered.
Levi lifted a finger to his lips, silencing her. His eyes conveyed seriousness. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a compass. After consulting it, he nodded. Then he glanced upward.
