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(Now Jenny understood, or she thought she did. She and her aunt were connected by so much more than blood. How her aunt had known that Jenny could stand up to similar challenges, she couldn’t say; but, somehow, she had recognized a bit of herself in Jenny.
So much was coming into focus and with only a few pages yet to go in the journal, she didn’t hesitate to plunge back in, turning the page to read the last words of this second journal before she would move on to the third one.)
For the next several months, Lizzie spent most of her time working with the Fanilians to create a small annex to the main college in Bonwen’s valley. The wizards had all agreed that they had been remiss in ignoring the importance of the Great Tree and had grown away from the very roots that had made them who they were.
Much as it had at the training center, by popular demand evening concerts had become a new tradition, sometimes featuring Lizzie with either the mbira or what the natives were calling her “stroker”; but generally, many different musicians, each with their own special presentation, participated with enthusiasm.
Mostly, pilgrimages to the valley were becoming a tradition for newly married couples or those with newborn infants and even wizards who had recently earned their robes. Lizzie, to her surprise and a certain amount of consternation, had become a vital part of the many ceremonies and events that now centered around Bonwen and her wisdom.
Bonwen had recovered slowly over the months following the rescue from her ordeal, and she was gracious and welcoming to the Fanilians, gladly speaking mentally with them whenever they came to her, never seeming to tire of their questions or from their adoration.
Tarafau frequently left Lizzie to her own devices these days, visiting his home for a few days at a time, and Lizzie didn’t mind at all. She had become a part of this culture and finally had begun to feel a certain amount of confidence in her role as a representative of the Alliance, although some of the attention she had received due to her part in Bonwen’s rescue had been uncomfortable for her.
They often treated her like some celebrity or, at the very least, a dignitary. But, as months passed, she even started wearing the native style clothing most of the time.
Then one day, Tarafau showed up in the small cottage the Fanilians had constructed for her in the valley, appearing from seemingly nowhere, something she had gotten used to. With him he had what was obviously another Alliance agent, due to the tiny infinity symbol that dangled on a gold chain in the V of his shirt collar.
“Well, Lizzie, how are things going? Allow me to introduce you to Gar from Fleem. He comes with a high recommendation from the council. You will introduce him to the Fanilians as your replacement. You have a new assignment.”
“Just like that? Is this a joke?”
Tarafau shook his head apologetically, “Actually no, but I had hoped you might take it easier if I just told you straight out. I know you have gotten very comfortable here. You know, as an agent, you can’t always depend on staying in any assignment on even a semi-permanent basis, right?”
“Tarafau!” She noticed that Gar looked a bit concerned at their byplay. “Sorry, Gar. Nice to meet you. I don’t mean to be unwelcoming, but this is a bit of a shock.”
He nodded his head. He was humanoid, tall and lanky, but he reminded her of Meta with a slight bluish tint to his skin. “I know. You just never know when they will call you to a new place. I’d been at my post for nearly two years and was beginning to wonder if I should buy property,” and he laughed sheepishly.
“Okay. So how long do I get before we leave?” she asked, looking pointedly at Tarafau.
“You have a few days to get Gar oriented, and then we’re off to headquarters. You’ve done some good work here, and it was noticed that’s all I’m allowed to tell you.”
The Fanilians didn’t take the news very well, although they were nice enough to Gar. Lizzie went to visit Bonwen, and the tree understood. “I have been for so long. I have been since before all of these. I will be long after these are gone. I wish to thank you for your kindness and your care for me and my world. Touch my bark.”
Lizzie held out a trembling hand and touched the dark, smooth, worn bark of the great tree, feeling like an insect on an elephant. For a brief moment, she felt only the bark beneath her hand, but then a warmth welled up in her like being immersed in a hot spring. She felt, rather than heard, the music of the tree and the love of all living things. Something inside of her came alive, like someone had flipped a switch.
“I cannot tell you what was just instilled in you. You must discover it for yourself, but it is something that was already inside of you that I have brought to the surface. Continue to learn about yourself and what you can do. You are more, Agent Lizzie Japhet, than you ever thought was possible.”
Lizzie spread both arms as far as she could reach to either side of Bonwen’s trunk and hugged the tree, as much with her mind as with her body. The tears that had hung unshed from her eyes sprang forth from sheer joy and deep affection for this amazing being.
“This has made everything worth it,” she told Bonwen. And somehow, she knew that the tree understood it all, her struggle all her life with her curiosity and the dissatisfaction she had felt for her instruction before her time with the Alliance, the struggle she had with her own emotions, and how difficult it had always been to connect with others.
She even thought that Bonwen understood the pain and the joy and the disappointment of her time with Reloi, and somehow a healing greater than she ever thought possible warmed her heart.
“Thank you.”
“Return to us when you can.” Bonwen told her in parting. “I understand that your kind can travel the vast distances of the multiverse like walking through a forest glade. Come again and be welcome.”
Of course, the Fanilians couldn’t let her go without a feast that doubled as a welcome to Gar. In what seemed like no time, she was walking through the Fanilian gate into the basement of the headquarters building of the Alliance.
As she, Tarafau, and Ynni traveled up in the huge elevator to the private council chamber, Lizzie couldn’t help but be a bit melancholy, considering all of the goodbyes she had been through over the last few years, between Sanglarka, the Alliance agent training center, and her various assignments—first as an intern and more recently as a certified agent—and wondered how many times this would be repeated in the future.
They walked into the now familiar reception room and were waved into the main council room by the receptionist.
There, in addition to the Chief Councilor and his two under councilors, was someone Lizzie did not expect.
Gaston turned to look at her with a big grin on his face. “Hey there, stranger!” And he came forward, arms outstretched. Lizzie didn’t hesitate—she wrapped her arms around him in a fervent hug.
“Oh, Gaston! How wonderful to see you!” Then, when she thought a second, she said, “Is everything all right?”
Gaston looked a little sad, but only for a moment. “Nita passed away this past week. I will miss her. She wasn’t sick, just old. Her heart gave out while she was out hanging clothes. I had tried to convince her we needed one of those electric dryers, but she would have none of it.
But I am well. I hear you have had some adventures and some sadness yourself. We can speak of it later.” He turned to the council. “Sorry, one and all, a small reunion of friends,” he sent with an apologetic smile.
The Chief Councilor nodded both heads in unison and sent, “Not to worry, Gaston. But let us get to the business at hand, and then you and Lizzie can have as much time as you would like.”
They turned to look intently at Lizzie, and she realized to her embarrassment that she was the focus of everyone in the room. She let nothing of it show on her face, however, and waited as patiently as she was able for someone to say something.
“Agent Japhet, you have acquitted yourself in your initial assignments as an agent beyond anyone’s expectations. You have exhibited talents and abilities far greater than any of us anticipated, including, we think, yourself.
“Your ability to think logically through a problem, your dedication to continuing to learn and expand your abilities, and the presence of mind you have exhibited in two separate events of disastrous proportions have made us think that perhaps you are capable of much more than originally thought.
“As Gaston just said, his situation has changed with the passing of his housekeeper, and he has confided in us that he feels a need to retire from his duties as the Gate Guardian of the Earth, Los Angeles gate. He wishes to spend the remainder of his life in Sanglarka, where he can continue to associate with his fellow Gate Guardians, but without the ultimate responsibility of the gate guardianship itself.
“You may not realize it, but one of the responsibilities of a Gate Guardian is to choose a potential successor. Gaston didn’t choose you just to become an agent for the Alliance. Ultimately, his hope was that you would eventually replace him as the guardian of the Los Angeles gate.”
Lizzie couldn’t help herself; she gasped, and all in the room smiled. Evidently her shock had been expected.
The Chief Councilor continued, “Therefore, at this time, we would like to extend the calling of official Gate Guardian to you. Your training as an agent of the Alliance was in preparation for this calling, and you have exceeded any of our expectations. Will you serve now, as a guardian of the Earth, Los Angeles gate? This will be a permanent assignment that you will relinquish only when you, yourself, are ready to retire and have found a suitable replacement. Will you serve?”
Nobody moved or spoke. Lizzie took a moment to think. A permanent assignment? No more unexpected changes? A chance to reconnect with her family and perhaps to make some friends who wouldn’t go away or that she wouldn’t have to leave behind for what seemed like forever?
She knew she would still be able to stay connected with her podmates and other agent friends through the Alliance network, and she would love to reconnect with the other Earth guardians who had first introduced her to this amazing opportunity.
“Yes,” she said humbly and simply. “I will serve.”
“Gaston, you may do the honors,” the Chief Councilor intoned.
Gaston turned to Lizzie, touching the tiny key that dangled on the chain around his neck, something Lizzie had never really noticed before. She was aware now, after her training, of the Guardian keys, and she also knew they were programmed to give off a signal that made people look anywhere but directly at them unless they were authorized agents or guardians.
As he touched it, he said, “Lizzie Japhet, I hereby relinquish the key of my office to you.” Reaching behind his neck, he unfastened the chain; then reaching it around her neck, he fastened it around her own, at the same time removing the infinity symbol that she had never been able to remove before.
With wonder that she knew was showing on her face, she reached one finger up to the tiny key and touched it. Then, Gaston touched it with his own finger, and she felt it warm as if touched by the sun.
“It is done.” The statement by the Chief Councilor hung vibrating in the room like a chord on a long fermata. Ynni crooned exuberantly. Lizzie knew her life had changed again, and this time her heart sang with the joy of it.
The End
