Elevation 3: The Fiery Spiral. Helen Brain

seat of the chair jabs my thigh. I change position. I wait. Wait for him to move on, but he doesn’t, watching me squirm as a sharp pain runs through my left hand on the armrest.

      I get up and inspect the chair. It’s as smooth as it was when I first sat down, the wood finely polished, the bunches of fruit glistening in the light glowing through the roof. I check underneath it, behind it. It appears perfectly normal.

      “Please sit down,” he says, his voice soft but not one that a person would disobey.

      Carefully I sit down again and immediately the chair jabs me in the right buttock, as firmly as if someone had stuck a pin into me. I jump up, clutching my bottom. This is too much. “What is going on?”

      “This is the conscience chair,” he says. He’s not laughing at me, he’s not mocking. He sits there, his hands still lying in his lap, speaking as calmly as ever. “Its shape changes to reflect your thoughts. Any untruth, anything you are unwilling to face, it will let you know.” He gestures to the stool in front of the desk. “You don’t have to sit in it. You can sit over there if you wish. But the quicker you face the parts of you that need growth, the quicker you begin your journey.”

      “Journey? I’m in Celestia. I’ve reached my destination.”

      “Ah, my boy, your journey has just begun. You have many worlds to pass through before you reach the Fiery Spiral. uMvelinqangi waits there, to welcome you home.”

      uMvelinqangi.

      I know that name, from long, long ago … Suddenly I am back in my childhood. It’s night, and I have had a nightmare. I wake, terrified, and call for my nanny. “Nokhanyo! Nokhanyo!”

      She comes in, and her goodness and kindness chase the terrors from the room. She sits on the bed, and I lean against her warm body. “You’re alright,” she murmurs. “Everything is alright. uMvelinqangi is looking after you.”

      She tells me about the great god, greater than my father’s god Prospiroh, greater than all the gods in the whole universe, greater than the moon and the sun and the stars. “One day you will be one with him,” she says. And as I fall asleep I hear him calling my name across the sky, and know that he is where I belong.

      “You want to be one with uMvelinqangi.” Once again he is reading my thoughts. But his voice is kind, a little like Nokhanyo’s.

      “More than anything.”

      “You need to journey not outward, but inward into your heart. It is blocked. You have shut out other people. You must open it. Now come, sit down again.”

      I perch on the edge of the seat, watching his hands as he picks up a small green alabaster egg from the bowl on the table, and rolls it in his fingers, testing the smoothness. I feel as though it’s my heart he’s holding in his small hands. How do I really know I can trust him?

      “You love Ebba.” The words ring out in the room, hanging there, and the blood rushes to my face.

      “No. Of course not.” Where did he get this ridiculous idea?

      He raises one white eyebrow. “But you saved her, and in the process lost your own life.”

      “I was doing my duty, ensuring the sacred task was completed and the amulets restored to the necklace.”

      This time the chair jabs me from all sides. His eyes twinkle and I know I’m reddening more – not with shame but with anger. He’s got me trapped. If I get up, I’m a coward. If I sit here, he can torment me with his ridiculous chair.

      “Your father was a hard man, too dim-witted to recognise your value. You hardened your heart against him when you were just a child. And then you built an even higher wall to keep everyone else out. Now that wall is hindering your growth. Your journey in Celestia is to dismantle the wall and to reveal your heart to another person, even if that means you are hurt or mocked or rejected.”

      I stand up. I don’t have to stay here listening to this senile old man babbling on. “And if I choose not to do this?”

      “You will stagnate. Your task – the task of every living being – is to move forward, through world after world until finally you reach the heart of the Fiery Spiral. You cannot be happy if you ignore that task.”

      I’m not going to let this old man push me around. I’ve had a lifetime of my father telling me to grow up, be a man, show some backbone. I’m here to rest now, with no one to bother me.

      Celestia is a fine place to stay – teeming with creatures and plants to discover. I’m in the same situation as explorers on Earth were centuries ago when they discovered new lands and could document the species. I’m going to document everything I discover here, and for that process, my heart will not be required.

      There’s a shriek and a thud outside. Francis glances towards a second door that faces the rock circle. Recognising Ebba’s voice, I swiftly rise to my feet. “Thank you for your advice. However, I have to move on now.”

      He pulls himself up, swaying slightly as he reaches for his canes. “Be careful, Lucas. Without growth there is death. You want to fly, but your feet must learn to love the ground.”

      EBBA

      A door opens. A shock of white hair appears, then a face looks down at me – a wrinkled face with warm brown eyes. It’s an old man, smiling and saying, “Come in, Ebba. I am Francis, one of your guides.”

      Isi nudges me with her nose. I check her over. She’s unhurt, and she’s got that goofy grin she gets when she’s really happy. It’s all okay. You can trust him, she seems to be saying. So when she runs past him through the doorway, I follow. I’m in a room with rock walls, a rock ceiling and floor, like the bunker I grew up in. But light shines through the thin walls, lighting up every vein in the rock, giving the room a gentle glow.

      I let out a deep sigh. It’s safe here. It’s simple, but there are sunbirds on the honeysuckle outside, and a dove coos nearby. This is more like the Celestia I imagined.

      Francis gestures to a wooden chair next to a small table. “Have a seat, my dear.”

      I sit down, and Isi flops onto my feet. My fingers fiddle with my robe as I remember my father outside. He told me the portal would close soon. I chew the inside of my cheek and stare at Francis. He is so old; everything he does is slow. Would it be rude to ask him to hurry up?

      He lowers himself into the armchair opposite me, folds his hands in his lap and sits quietly, watching me.

      What is he doing? Why doesn’t he say anything? I fondle Isi’s ears, thinking about my father and what it will be like when we go back to Greenhaven together. The first thing I’m going to do is to ask him to get rid of Samantha-Lee. I don’t trust her. She obviously wants Micah for herself.

      When I look up Francis is still watching me, and I shift in the chair, wondering what is poking my back. Why isn’t he saying anything? How will Samantha-Lee react when my dad banishes her from the island? Surely he will be the leader of the resistance again as he was seventeen years ago, before he disappeared – he and Micah together, maybe?

      “So.” Francis speaks at last. “So, that boy tricked you. He betrayed you.”

      Although his voice is kind, the words are like skewers stabbing me. “Micah didn’t betray me. He loves me.”

      He raises one white eyebrow. “You believe that, my dear? It wasn’t his voice you heard outside the council chamber?”

      “It was Bonita Mentoor. She’s always hated …” but as I say her name I realise there’s no way she could have known about the hair clip. It was definitely Micah’s voice I heard talking to the guards, and whom I saw addressing the crowd.

      I can feel my face warming as I look into his clear brown eyes. I’ve been such an idiot. Micah set me up. My father must be mistaken. Maybe he didn’t see the whole thing. It’s going to be terrible