“Underworld now?” He was anxious to try it again.
“Let your energy settle for a few minutes at least,” she said. “I would be remiss if I didn’t warn you: this isn’t as carefree a process as you feel it is.”
“All right,” he said. He sat still and did a round of deep breathing, relaxing his nervous system as much as he could.
After a few minutes of this, Vivienne touched his shoulder. “Let’s try now.”
“Great.” Argan leapt to his feet and they repeated the whole process.
This time, he arrived at the door of Diana’s cathedral.
“Back alone?” she said. “How unexpected.”
“I had help,” Argan said.
Vivienne appeared behind him. “Hello, Diana.”
Argan stepped aside.
“Grandmother?” Diana looked shocked. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“We are getting Argan ready for his own portal travel and wanted to visit those places he’d already been, as a primer. I took it upon myself to follow him on this one, to see how you’re doing.”
Diana was suspicious. “You would never come here for such a small reason.”
“Diana, you know the Golden Age is trying to anchor itself. The energies of Lemuria are resurfacing and can’t be stopped, but the Archer will try. There could be great casualties. I would like to prevent those—this time with Lucifer’s help.”
Diana dismissed her words immediately. “You know how he works.”
“I would like to speak with him,” Vivienne said.
Argan took a step back. The last time he’d encountered Lucifer had been less than pleasant.
Diana shrugged. “Of course, Grandmother.”
No fanfare needed; Lucifer’s light came into the room as its own horn of arrival. Argan was the only one who needed to shield his eyes.
Lucifer was incredibly tall, yet when he approached Vivienne, she was his equal in height. “Great Mother of Water,” he greeted her and kissed her hand. “A pleasure. Thirteen thousand years already? My, how time flies.”
She chuckled politely. “Lucifer, it is time. Portals are opening, paradigms are crumbling, and you have been trapped here long enough. We must work together to free Mother Earth.”
“I’ve grown to like it here,” he said smugly. “It’s quite amusing.”
“We aren’t going to make the same mistake this time,” she said. “Different choices will be made.”
“Ahh, you’ve seen the error of your ways, have you?”
“I don’t understand,” Argan said.
“You again?” Lucifer snarled. “Vivienne, do tell your boy the truth.”
Vivienne made no motion to speak.
“Well, if you won’t tell him, allow me,” Lucifer said, clearly chomping to tell the story. “You see, boy, that stone you’ve been bequeathed … that was mine. It belonged to me. And these Mothers felt they had a right to take it, and they infused it with love and compassion and all the things I didn’t want clouding the purity of my knowledge. They wanted to take all of the gifts and keep them for themselves, give them to that baby. Serves them right, the stone couldn’t take the pressure and cracked. So for thirteen thousand years it has been fractured, seeking its other half. It is the basis for every twin flame story spun in your world. So syrupy and stupid. It is a manipulation by those who know the truth. And now these Mothers want to heal the stone and hurl me back into the stratosphere from whence I came. But guess what? I’m not going. You can go on your quest and heal that hunk of glass, but I don’t want it back.” He left in a flash and the room darkened substantially.
“I told you,” Diana said.
An audible huff came out of Vivienne’s nose. “Let’s go, child,” she said to Argan. “We’ve been here long enough.”
“No hug?” Diana asked as Vivienne and Argan went back through the alchemical door.
Back in her apartment, Vivienne touched Argan’s hair. “A little grayer, I’m afraid. And we didn’t stay that long.”
“Well, that was insightful,” Argan said.
“I’m sorry to say he was telling the truth,” she said. “We had good intentions. We thought if we infused the stone with the pure love of a child, it would negate Cyril’s darkness. But it didn’t. It’s up to every individual to master this part of themself. We couldn’t do it for them.”
“This is all very heavy,” Argan said. The sun was starting to rise, and his growling stomach echoed in the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll eat before the next one?”
Vivienne wasted no time; she began preparing eggs and toast. Before she could finish cooking, however, the quiet of the kitchen was accosted by a loud banging in the parlor.
“Stop talking right now!” Milicent’s voice boomed.
“This is not my fault and I won’t let you blame me,” Noah said, just as loudly.
Vivienne quickly closed the pantry door and returned to the eggs, now firing up the oven to make a strada. She made no move to greet her granddaughter.
Milicent and Noah stormed into the kitchen. A suited driver trailed behind them, carrying shopping bags.
Vivienne, forced to acknowledge them all, scowled. “Child, it is barely six a.m. What are you doing?”
“Grandmother, I know your boondoggle was to get me out of the house and out of your hair, and I don’t appreciate it. You could have just sent Noah away. I know he’s the one that doesn’t belong here.”
“That would hurt if I still cared, which I don’t,” Noah said like a prepubescent boy. “And you can’t blame me for getting booted out of here. She doesn’t want you messing up their plans with your wayward scheme to see Diana.”
“I’ve given up on that idea,” Milicent said, directing her response toward Vivienne. “I am letting the past go. It’s time to move on and get my life back. I’ve spent too much of it stuck in old patterns that have gotten me nothing but misery. I need new goals.”
“You decided all of this before six a.m. today?” Argan asked, eating toast.
“Not that you need to know,” Milicent said. “But I decided this last night after Noah ruined my meal, informing me that our shopping trip was a ruse to get me out of here. Honestly, Grandmother, you’ve never resorted to lying to me before—why start now?”
“Child, relax,” Vivienne said. “I didn’t lie to you. Shopping in Milan is one of the great pleasures this world has to offer. Couldn’t you just enjoy it for the sake of enjoyment?”
Milicent said nothing.
“Did you get your new Farragamos?” Vivienne asked Noah.
His face lit up. “I did! They are as soft as butter.” He started ripping through his bags looking for his new treasures. “And the cashmere!” he said, cuddling a new sweater close to his neck. “I’m now addicted to Aperol spritzes.”
“You see?” Vivienne said to Milicent. “Joy.” She put her strada in the oven and set the timer. “I’m going upstairs to dress. Are you awake for the day? I thought we could all head to the beach. There’s something you need to see. Meet me outside at quarter past the hour.”