The Unknotting Thread

Albert's hand gripped Joan's wrist, and her head whirled around. Once a source of doubt and mystery, the warehouse currently was the location of her most terror. The shadows around them seemed to deepen, extending into the points of the room like black tendrils, encircling her.

Joan's voice was angry, but every word was saturated with terror. She fought his grip, but Albert's power was unnerving—and the harder she fought, the more her energy sapped.

Albert's face was impassive; his eyes were frigid and analytical. "You still don't grasp it, do you?" His tone was low and threatening; his hole was steely. "The truth was hidden somewhere in the past all this time. Rather, Joan, it has been right in front of you."

Her thoughts raced, trying to find sense in the swirling chaos. "What do you mean? "What are you discussing?" she felt her heart race. What in the world he could know would make all seem so... wrong?

Albert did not reply at once. He dragged her away off the warehouse into the darkness, the frigid stone floor groaning with every step. Steady beat of Joan's heart but she could not allow fear to take rootiner her. She had to be cool, think logically.

Clearly, all she could recollect was the sound of Alex on the mobile. He had sounded quite different: frantic, urgent. Now she was alone with Albert, although he had told her to meet him right here. Did Alex take part in this? Did he take part in it?

"No," Joan murmured, realization dawning. "Aren't you engaged in his work? Alex... he's in this with you."

The tiniest of grins passed Albert's lips; his lips twisted. "Nonsense. Hugo?" he said. His words cut Joan's heart sharply.

Time appeared to stand still for a second as Joan's ideas crashed together. All she had known, everything she had believed, was collapsing in front of her eyes. Alex—the man she had adored, the one she had trusted—was he somehow related to all of this?

She shook her head trying to deny the reality, but Albert's next words ran down her back.

Alex is merely a pawn in a way more game. You, Joan... you're the key."

Her breath stopped in her throat. "What do you mean? What do you want from me?"

Albert stopped, his eyes narrowed. "I need you to realize that all of this—that everything happened—was meant to happen. It's meant to be, Joan. It has always been destiny."

Joan's brain twirled, perplexed. As if by fate? Was this some perverted play of Albert's? He was discussing things Joan could never have envisioned, stuff she was unready to listen to.

Joan screamed, trying to shake free of his hold once more, "You're talking in riddles." "What exactly do you want from me? Why bring me here?"

Albert let up on his hold just long enough for Joan to breathe. His gaze as frigid as ice, he observed her for a moment. Then he let her go utterly without any warning, stepped back. Joan tripped, her still shaking from his constriction.

With his voice suddenly lowering, "I don't want anything from you Joan," he told hers. The person who has been waiting for this opportunity. For your understanding, then. You are, you see, little pieces of something far more significant. Something above and beyond us. Beyond your family and beyond the past. It has to do with control. Power underlies it all. And directly in the middle of it you find yourself standing."

Joan stepped back; she was throb. "I don't follow." How is any of this mine? What do you wish me to do with this?

Joan, it didn't matter what you did, Albert's eyes turned black. It's about what has been accomplished; you have to play your bit."

Still unsure, she shook her head. "You are insane. This is—this isn't a lot correct."

Another step toward her, his voice decreasing to a whisper, Albert said, "You want the truth?". Sure. Here is it."

From his jacket pocket he yanked something small and metallic gleaming under the gloomy light. Joan felt her heart race at sight of it. An important one. Rather than just any key.

It was the cornerstone of her family estate—the same one her father had locked away for decades, the one she had never seen, never knew existed.

With the little metal gleaming in his hand, Albert handed it out to her. "This is the key to all," Joan said. Your father knew." He always knew. It was, however, kept from you and everybody. Knowing the power you could unleash if you ever found the truth, he kept you in the dark.

As she grabbed the key, Joan's mouth dries up and her fingers tingling. She hadn't any idea what to think or to say. She needed to escape. She had to locate Alex. But suppose Albert were telling the honest fact?

With his eyes constant on her face, Albert begged, "Take it, Joan; unlock the door." You will see everything. all your father sought to cover."

Joan stood stock-still, breath shallow and swallowed hard. She could reach the key, but along with it came a load of a thousand inquiries. What really was she walking into? What lay behind the door Albert told her to open?

Joan's voice cut through the quiet; her thoughts were spinning still. "Why are you doing this?" "Why are you helping me?"

Albert's lips turned into a small smile. "Joan, I am not assisting you. I am free to govern." This is meant to be your future. You are unable to fight it."

The words murmured in Joan's ears ran along her skin as a virus. There was something horrible about all of this.

Albert turned away with his steps resonating on the icy stone floor. "You will find him, Joan. After you do... remember this. Alex is not who you believe he is. He is every bit as lost as you are."

Paralyzed by astonishment, perplexion, and fear, Joan stood there. What Albert had said, her brain could not comprehend it. Still, she was positive of one thing: her only path ahead was the key. She had to get at the truth. Whatever it was.

Just as she started to grasp the key, the lights in the warehouse blinked, and she heard far-off footsteps. Joan stopped, her heart racing in her throat.

Another person was on the way.

A silhouette startled her as she rose from the dark, and her belly turned. It was Alex who gave the presentation.

Calling gently, he cried with desperation, "Joan."

But as he neared, Joan's heart sank. He was somewhat unique. His eyes—those eyes that had once been bursting with love—were now vacant and hollow.

"Alex?" Joan murmured, her voice shaky. "What's happening? What's going on?"

Before Alex could reply, however, the lights flickered afresh and the sound of feet increased. From the shadows came a second shape.

Seeing who it was made Joan's breath catch in her throat. Her dad.