Justin Davis, page 30
Devī did not speak but watched him closely. Justin understood that she knew his mind. For now, she respected his need to grieve and plan. He made a rapid calculation. In this age, even yogīs and Asuras were subject to earthly law enforced by a strong government. Justin’s friend Senator Clay had mastered those laws, and he possessed a virtual army of followers, not to speak of his soon becoming the commander-in-chief of the mightiest military force on earth. Hunter Clay could mobilize unlimited power. He was Justin’s and Devī’s best ally, their best hope. Justin must convince Devī to accept that help.
Dawn was coming. He had precious little time left with Devī. He had to convince her.
“Devī,” he said. “I must speak to Senator Clay about the Asura. Please allow me to speak on your behalf as well as my own.”
Devī suddenly looked at him with such piercing gravity that he was forced to look away. What had he said? She walked slowly about the room, lost in thought. Justin watched her. Something very heavy was coming.
“What is it?” Justin asked. “Tell me.”
Devī stopped, turned to him, and spoke slowly, driving home each word. She said, “Justin, you cannot seek help from Senator Clay because Hunter Clay is my uncle. Senator Clay is the Asura that caused your father’s death, and just tried to kill us. And he will soon attain terrible power in this world if we do not stop him.”
Justin’s jaw dropped and he stared at Devī. His worlds collided. He was stunned beyond the power of expression. Devī remained silent. He moved his head slowly from side to side, as if to physically dispel Devī’s claim.
“The Clays have been so good to me,” he gasped. “He’s going to be the next president of the United States. I can’t believe he caused my father’s death. He cannot be an Asura.”
“I’m sorry, Justin. You insisted on knowing the truth.”
“But why? Why would Hunter do that? What could be his motive?”
Devī sighed with deep sympathy. “Hunter killed your father because he was becoming famous and powerful, and he was uncovering the Asura plot. He trusted me, and I was trying to explain to him the danger. I urged him not to pursue my case, but he was a very noble man, as you know. And he had so much faith in me. Your father would have worked with you and me. Your mother too. And Tark Davis was such a brilliant lawyer that he would have uncovered the Asura’s plot, even his murder of my relatives. The Asura knew that. Justin, I’m sorrier for you than I can say.”
Justin savored Devī’s earnest glorification of his father, but his anger also increased. He was too stunned to speak. He waited for Devī to say something, anything.
“Shall I go on?” she asked. “Are you all right? I felt you must know these things.”
“Of course, you are right,” he whispered. “Please tell me all you can.”
“There is not much more to tell. Hunter Clay knows that only you and I together can stop him. Otherwise, he will become the next president, and that is only the beginning. Yes, Hunter was kind to you. He is determined to either win you to his side, or kill you. He believes I will then feel discouraged to act in the world. And at that point, either he will kill me, or I will abandon this world. He also hoped that with your father gone, you might see him as a substitute father figure.”
“That is evil,” Justin whispered hoarsely. “It is most despicable evil.”
“Justin, remember that your father is as alive as we are. He is watching you. He wants you to do the right thing. You must keep your vow, if you are to defeat the Asura.”
Justin knew his duty. If the Clays were responsible for his father’s death, they were Justin’s mortal enemies. He would stop at nothing to avenge their crime. But could he believe Devī? Dare he not believe her? Long ago, Justin doubted Devī’s revelation of the false Lokeśa, and that doubt almost cost him his life. He was afraid to doubt her again, but how could he defy the world he knew and accept her fantastic claim?
Through a window, Justin saw on the horizon a thin, dim line of light. Dawn. He rushed to the glass and looked down toward White Hall. A mile below, he saw bobbing lights. A search party was coming up the mountain. They must have seen the light in the ghost house. He must leave at once, knowing he might never see Devī again.
CHAPTER 34
With apologies, Justin rushed to his bedroom and changed into his own clothes. With more apologies and numerous heartfelt thanks, he expressed his intense wish to see her again. Through all this she stood and watched him, her expression inscrutable.
With a last look back at Devī, he rushed out the door and headed down the soggy-but-passable mountain trail. Its steepness prevented water from collecting during the storm. He cast frequent looks back at the house. His magical meeting with Devī astonished him so greatly that he almost doubted it had really taken place.
With more interest than the topic had ever before inspired in him, he tried to make out his feelings toward Devī. Animosity, even annoyance, were completely gone. Rather, he regretted that he ever disliked a person who, in addition to her extraordinary qualities, had regularly saved his life. In Bhū-loka, he had insulted and rejected her, and now, on meeting again, albeit under such changed circumstances, she seemed to make a real effort to be kind to him. How could he not earnestly reciprocate her own genuine interest in his wellbeing? But how could they ever meet again? Devī left it all to the Avatāra. Justin was not so pious. It was all confusion to him. Yet his life would never be the same. White Hall, Virginia and ancient Bhū-loka, he now saw, had been on a collision course, and he had now experienced the first wave of impact. The danger to himself and his family that he had feared, though only vaguely understood, now rushed into sharp relief. His enemies had names. Now, he knew them and their staggering powers.
Self-realization, spiritual understanding, was no longer a boring if pious duty. It was now the only way to save his life, and probably those most dear to him. Pure consciousness alone could invoke the power he needed to help rescue an imperiled planet. Yet he could not see Devī again, not for years. But there was a plan, Devī said.
As he quickly skated down mountain trails that hours before were deathtraps, the fact that he and Devī were in real danger pressed itself on his mind.
And as he came closer to the White Hall Academy, he dreaded his reunion with Tom and Scarlet. All of White Hall surely heard that he was lost in the mountains. He himself had texted the news to his friends, and they must have reported it to the school. Such news could not possibly remain secret. It must have spread quickly. And high up in the mountain, the ghost house was the only shelter. Everyone knew that. Thus, anyone could have easily deduced his location, and with whom he was staying. This thought chilled him as much as yesterday’s storm. Tom, Scarlet, and everyone else at White Hall must strongly suspect where he spent the night.
What about the deadly attack, the rifle fire? Was it necessarily the work of Asuras? There too, a plausible alternative presented itself to his mind. Justin grew up in a county filled with hunters. And October was prime hunting season.
Moreover, deer often sleep for a short time in the middle of the night, then wake up to forage in the early morning. At that time, the deer tend to be lethargic and thus are easy targets for hunters. And that is exactly when the shots were fired. The shots came from the east slope of Pasture Fence Mountain, an area filled with forests and deer, precisely at the time eager hunters would be firing in those woods.
With every step he took away from Devī, the absolute certainty of her story faded in his mind. Her riveting tale, like a lonely ship in foggy seas, seemed to sail into mythic mists. He revered Devī, but Justin could not yet see the kind, charismatic Hunters as murderous Asuras.
If the outer storm had subsided, Justin’s inner storm now turned into a tempest, tossing him between worlds. In this wholly unsettled state, he slid down the slope. And just yesterday, life at White Hall had been so easy, so simple and pleasurable. And there was still Scarlet.
Though serenely blind to ultimate things, Scarlet was affectionate and fun, brilliant in her own way. He was committed to her, and so he must remain. But what if she discovered where he spent the night, and with whom? He could not deceive her or Tom again. His heart revolted against it. How would they react? What would he do?
Lost in thought, he almost collided with Mel, who had come looking for him with Tom and Scarlet. Justin’s heart raced.
“What happened, Justin?” Scarlet cried, running up to him. “Where were you?”
Justin struggled to sound calm. “I was trapped in the storm. Major flooding. Lightning almost killed me.”
“Are you all right?” Scarlet gasped.
“I think so.”
“You don’t look so great,” she said. “We’ll take you to the health center.”
“Thank you,” he said. Would it be this easy? No.
Tom stared at and through him and said, “The storm wasn’t as bad as you say.”
“It was much worse up in the mountains,” Justin said, feeling queasy as he foresaw Tom’s moves.
“Oh, so you went high in the mountains,” Mel said. “Near the ridge?”
“Yes.”
Now Tom took over. Clearly, he and Mel had agreed on a strategy to interrogate and probably indict Justin.
Tom said, “You grew up in the mountains. You must know it’s not safe to climb to the ridge when a big storm is coming.”
Justin told as much truth as possible. He heard the storm would come later. He went up the slope to search for the source of the White Hall Creek. His words did not shake his interrogators’ incredulity.
Scarlet shook his arm. She had been trying to get his attention. “Justin, how did your clothes dry in the freezing cold?”
Mel and Tom nodded at each other and turned to Justin, who said, “I found a shelter and lit a fire.” He thought of saying he found a cave with firewood, but to directly lie would make it worse.
Tom continued the attack. “I remember telling you about a forbidden house up on the ridge. I don’t know of any other house or shelter up there. Do you, Justin?”
“No, I do not,” Justin said, watching the inexorable checkmate unfold.
Mel’s face morphed by degrees from doubt to indignation to rage. Scarlet looked confused, anxious to support Justin, but loyal to her brother and the Knights.
Justin’s only hope was to tell the truth minus Devī. He first defended his innocent desire to search for the source of the White Hall Creek. After all, he grew up in the mountains. A simple mistake trapped him in a truly life-threatening storm. He did indeed take shelter in the forbidden house, but only to save his life. He then swore that no witch was there, no crazy Stonie. Since Devī was neither a witch nor a crazy Stonie, he hoped his words would ring true.
But Tom turned on him and said, “Justin, were you alone in that house or was someone else there?”
Justin hesitated. Checkmate.
“For God’s sake!” Tom shouted. “Do not lie to me. Do not try to deceive me.”
Justin looked down. “Yes, there was another person in the house.”
“Is that person a Stonewood student, and hence a girl?”
“Yes.”
“Was it the same girl we saw that day in front of Mrs. Wolfe’s house?”
“Yes, the same girl.”
“Justin!” Scarlet cried. “You spent the night with that girl?”
“No, I did not. She slept upstairs and I slept downstairs. Look, that girl is not what you think. She is—”
“Shut up!” Mel screamed, trembling with rage. He clenched his fists as if he were about to attack Justin.
Tom put his arms around Mel, comforting him and physically stoppings him from attacking Justin.
“Justin,” Tom said, still restraining Mel, “all White Hallians, especially Knights, act with discipline. We follow the rules. You ignored my clear instruction to stay away, far away, from the ghost house. And that led you to violate sacred rules, and to place yourself in acute danger. We stayed up all night, worried sick about you, and when we finally found you, you tried to deceive us. I can’t believe you did that. You know how I feel about deceit. I am very deeply hurt, more than I can tell you. Justin, I tried so hard to help you, to be a brother to you, and this is how you repay me.”
Justin saw the pain in Tom’s face, heard the pain in his voice. It was horrible. Still, he owed it to himself to speak what he saw as the truth of the matter, no matter what the cost.
“I did not lie to you,” Justin said. “I acted to save my life. Yes, it was foolish to go up in the mountain, but once the storm hit, it was impossible to go back down, and I would have died without shelter. I left the moment it was possible to leave.”
Justin stood like a dead man, hardly breathing. Mel muttered inaudible curses. Seeing Tom’s face, even Scarlet moved away from Justin and said with tears in her eyes, “I understand what you’re saying, and we did not want you to kill yourself to follow a rule. But after all we’ve done for you, you owed it to us to be more careful. You know how Mel feels, and how Tom and I feel about these matters, and your lack of caution was at the least an indirect betrayal.”
Justin hung his head. He had no clever remark to make in his defense.
Tom said, “Let’s go. Justin is not dying, and he can find his own way to the health center.”
The three friends left Justin in shock and misery and headed back to campus. Justin stood, slumped and silent as the sun crossed the horizon. He let his former friends get far ahead of him, and then walked back to his room, without feeling the ground beneath him, or seeing anything around him.
But Luke was there to console him. If it was really Devī he saw in that house, then Luke must be Lokeśa. Shaken by all these events, Justin desperately needed to speak openly and honestly with Luke. Justin explained all that happened from the moment he set out on his hike the day before, his astounding meeting with Devī, their conversations, and finally his meeting minutes before with Tom, Scarlet, and Mel. When Justin revealed Devī’s claim that Hunter was the Asura that attacked him in Bhū-loka, Luke’s eyes opened wide. He was almost as shocked by the idea as Justin.
In his recounting of these events, Justin withheld only one point, which he now disclosed. He had thought it too sensitive to mix with his general narration. Justin now revealed what Devī said about Luke and Sara, their previous lives as Lokeśa and Sarit. By now, Justin had informed Luke in detail of the dream of Bhū-loka.
Luke accepted at once the truth of Devī’s words and admitted that he and Sara already suspected it was the case. In any case, Luke and Sara would always support Justin, no matter how the White Hall community in general chose to deal with him. Justin and Luke embraced, in confirmation of their unbreakable friendship.
“It will work out, I’m sure,” Luke said.
“But what about Hunter Clay?” Justin posed. “It’s too much for me. I don’t know what to believe. What if the Asura Vyādha is impersonating Hunter Clay, or does so at times? Keep in mind that in Bhū-loka, Vyādha was a master of disguise. What if he has done it again and is masquerading as a leading political figure?”
Luke thought for a moment. “I see what you mean. He might have created a fake form of Senator Clay, as he did with me.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Not likely, on several counts,” Luke argued. “First, we can eliminate at once the possibility that Vyādha occasionally impersonates Senator Clay. The first time he did so, the senator would realize that people thought he was somewhere he wasn’t, or said something he didn’t say. No, that is not a real possibility.”
“All right, granted,” Justin agreed. “Option two—what if Vyādha killed the real Senator Clay and took his place?”
“Also very unlikely. I have been researching the ancient histories of the Asuras. Vyādha assumed my form as Lokeśa for a short time. Forgive me for what I am about to say, but I must say it under the circumstances. Devī claims that Senator Clay was involved in the tragic loss of your father. If that’s true, Hunter has been bad for a few years. From all I’ve read, I don’t think an Asura can hold a false form that long.”
“I understand,” Justin said. He knew he must suppress his anger and grief at the mention of his father. It was essential to calmly discuss these points with Luke. “So,” Justin said, “Devī is either all right or all wrong about Hunter Clay.”
“It seems that way.”
“What do you think, Luke?”
“I don’t know Devī very well. I’ve hardly met her in this life. I know that Sara believes in her completely. And Sara is a pure soul. But I do need evidence. My sense of justice demands it. And we just don’t have that evidence. Not now.”
Justin sat on his bed and put his head in his hands. “Luke, why did the Avatāra let me relive that time, and not you?”
“Perhaps because you and Devī are meant to lead us. Sarit, I mean Sara, also vaguely remembers her past life in Bhū-loka. But you and Devī know it all. You must lead us.”
“I don’t know what to do, Luke. I can’t follow Devī now, but I also can’t reject or abandon her. I’ll try my best to resume a spiritual practice. Maybe that’s all I can do.”
“Sara wants me to do it too.”
Luke said he was leaving and made it clear by unspoken communication that he was going to see Sara. Justin wanted to say, “Send her my greetings, and ask her to tell Devī that I hope she’s well.” But he didn’t say it. He wasn’t expelled yet, and he would follow the rules until he was.
Luke asked Justin if he would be all right alone. He would.
Justin heard two students speaking in the hall. The Knights had called a lunch meeting for this year’s official candidates. Justin was not invited. He shut the door and locked it, but the room confined him. He must get away from everyone. He headed for the reservoir trail into the Shenandoah. But on the way, he passed Scarlet on campus. She tried to avoid him, but he begged her to stop for a moment and listen to him. He swore to her that he never touched the girl in the ghost house, and repeated that he only took shelter there to save his life, that he was only guilty of carelessness in that he hiked too high on the slope and ran into a deadly storm.
