46

Roller Coaster

A little fresh air helped revive Lottica after Weirhamatt's astonishing declaration that she was officially considered Lady Breima. She and Nick were waiting by the plaza fountain while her grandfather and Weirhamatt discussed “official matters”. It seemed to Lottica that if she were really royalty, she could listen to any official matters. She wondered if her brother felt the same way. “So, what do you think of being Lebreiman royalty, Nick?”

Turning his attention from the massive sculpture of Hawk, Nick spread his arms wide. "A bit hard to believe, isn't it, that we're a part of all this, Lady Breima?"

"Quit with the Lady Breima stuff, unless you're ready to be Lord Breima!"

"Doesn’t bother me. Kinda has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?"

"Certainly, sire," Lottica mocked with a curtsy and and flourish of her hand, mussing his floppy hair. "You are Lord Nick of the realm of Le-brainless. Command thy loyal servant."

He pushed her hand away and pointed to the middle of the fountain. "Go douse thyself and be healed of all lame humor."

"Yeah, well, I think you’re all wet about the Lord and Lady stuff,” Lottica countered. Then, more seriously, “We didn't come to Lebreima with this in mind. Dad and Mom didn't either. Do you think Grandfather and Grandmother did?"

"I don't know, Lottie. Grandfather may have had to play along because he couldn't let Weirhamatt know that Dad and Mom are alive and here in Lebreima. The situation is fairly complex.”

Lottica nodded. "Yeah. Crazy complex. A massive puzzle, and we don’t even know what the picture looks like, let alone how may pieces we’re missing.” She gestured towards the statue of Hawk. “You have to admit though, that this is pretty amazing. If we weren't here, we'd be sitting in a classroom back home being average Americans.

“Bopei was right about schooling us. We have a lot to learn about Lebreima. Like that book. Aren't you a bit creeped by that drawing of the boy and girl with no heart? Doesn't it make you a bit suspicious that Weirhamatt showed us that particular page?"

"Why? You think we're that boy and girl?" Nick scoffed. He suddenly started making jerky movements and squeaking noises. "Please, Dorothy, oil my joints before we get to Oz. I'd do it myself if I only had a heart." He clasped his chest dramatically. "See, another dead-parent story for your collection."

"Yeah, Nick, you're all heart. A real lord among men." She pouted in a most calculated way. "Am I crazy to think we have something positive to contribute in this le Breima business?"

"Sorry. And enough with the pouty lip stuff. I'm just trying to keep this light. I mean, I feel like we’re in Oz or Never-Never Land—or maybe StrongBadia.” He checked to see if this caused her to pout more. It hadn’t, so he continued. “Being in Lebreima feels intense at times, and then other moments I think to myself, 'Bring it on!' because I don't actually believe this can be happening. You know, like a roller coaster dream where you get to the top of the ride and the track ends. Nothing but free fall ahead. Does that make sense?"

Lottica bit her extended lip and shot him an I'll-forgive-you-but-only-because-you're-my-big-dumb-brother roll of the eyes. "Sure, Nick. Just be ready to buckle up when this roller coaster reaches the end of its track. It might be a rocky road back to reality."

Twenty minutes later, Grandfather Breima rejoined them by the fountain. He seemed pleased, and Lottica couldn't resist the opportunity to ask, "Bopei, how can you let Weirhamatt think we are the heirs to le Breima. That's Dad's title, isn't it?"

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He surprised Lottica by taking her hand and sinking to one knee to look directly into her eyes. "Of course! Deilune is le Breima. You are le Breima. I am le Breima. It is here." He pressed her hand to his heart. "This makes us le Breima."

"Did you tell Weirhamatt about Dad before you left?" Nick asked.

"No. Is difficult. Deilune is dead to Lebreima. Not easy to bring him back."

They could see his point. Only a week ago on a stormy Halloween night, they’d witnessed their father and mother—oblivious to their own deaths—climb out of a sarcophagus. Even in an ancient place like Lebreima, steeped in supernatural folklore, it had to be hard to believe in zombies. Even zombies as as good-natured as their parents.

"So, how are we going to let people know? How is Dad going to reclaim the title of le Breima?" Nick wanted to know.

"Always questions. Good questions from smart children." He motioned them back the way they had come through town. "For answers we need big brain."

They followed at his heels. He led them through more narrow, winding backstreets until they came to base of a high hill at the edge of Kreistia. Red and yellow leaves shimmered in a fiery patchwork of trees on the hillside. A well-worn path wound in and out of the trees up to enticing stone towers and walls just visible at the crest. A remnant of mist lingered about the hilltop making the structure seem further away in both distance and time.

The town of Kreistia was certainly old, but the edifice atop the hill felt positively primeval to Lottica. "Are we going up there?" she asked, hopeful.

"Yes. For answers," her grandfather replied.

"Is this part of school? Who lives up there?"

Grandfather Breima gestured grandly upward, his family ring flashing in the sunlight in a very familiar way. "This lesson. Only Hawk knows." And with that cryptic remark, he led his puzzled grandchildren up the path towards the lofty perch on the hilltop.

As they chugged along through thick-trunked elm, oak, maple and chestnut trees, Lottica expected Nick to make some offhand "yellow-bricked road" remark after his Wizard of Oz comment earlier. He remained silent and she figured he was probably lost in his own private poppy field of questions. The same as she was: Where was Bopei leading them? What was this lesson only Hawk knew?

Back in America, Lottica asked herself a lot of questions, but in Lebreima her questions seemed much more exhausting. As was the steep pitch of the trail. She was also starting to feel the effects of jet lag. Up ahead, her grandfather, who was almost seventy years old, seemed barely winded. Lottica quickened her pace to catch him, and, as she did, he halted near a switchback where the trees thickened and the atmosphere darkened.

"Wait here. I come back for you,” he told them, glancing over his shoulder towards the tangled treetops. “Five minutes. Maybe." Without waiting for a response, he strode up the trail, his figure quickly lost among tree trunks.

In the sudden excitement and exertion of the climb, Lottica had worked up a bit of a sweat. Now stopped, a chill quickly settled on her. A breeze rattled the brittle leaves around her feet and she shivered.

"You nervous?" Nick asked when he saw her shudder.

"I'm cold, Sherlock. It's November, remember." She felt like sticking her tongue out at him, but realized he was probably as uncertain as she was about this whole thing. "I guess I’m a little edgy. Any thoughts on what we’re doing trudging up this hill?"

"Not really. I trust Grandfa—I mean, Bopei. I just have to keep reminding myself that everything is different here. Some of it beyond rational sense. But it's happening. I guess that’s why we have words like trust and faith."

"Yeah,” Lottica agreed. “I guess we're used to thinking about make-believe things like Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny, but not things like the Kareima, Hawk and Raven. We’re having to stretch our American-made imaginations."

"Big time. Which is part of the challenge, but there's another part, too,” he mused. “You know I'm into anatomy. How our bodies works. Like why you're shivering, and why my heart is pounding right now. But, all of that is because, more than ever, I want to understand what makes us alive and aware.

"I mean, if Dad and Mom could be physically dead for three months and then come back with their minds and memories intact, where does consciousness truly exist? That’s the monster question that keeps looping through my mind, like an annoying GIF."

Lottica stopped shivering and looked keenly at her brother. "Wow, Nick, I knew you were intense at times, but I didn't realize how deep your thinking went. I always figured I was the one who thought way too much. You know, all my left-brained writing and artsy stuff."

She paused when he didn’t laugh, and then quickly continued, "I'm not trying to be mean or anything. I'm just surprised you were willing to tell me what’s really been on your mind."

He waved her concern off. "No worries, Lottie. Seems like there’ll be plenty of heavy thinking to go around, and, I suppose, two left-brains are better than one.”

Before Lottica could respond, a shrill, ominous cry sounded on the hilltop. It sent a new breed of shivers down Lottica's spine, and got Nick's heart pounding double-time. Without a second thought, they raced up the switchback through the trees where they’d lost sight of their grandfather.