Run To the Sea
Part 15
Sue Glasgow

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The public farewell in Father's study had been brief.  Vincent was  never comfortable  with  prolonged  departures,  and  he had been very aware of Catherine's anxiety as she had pulled back into a quiet alcove  near  the chamber  entrance.  He  would  have preferred to have said their goodbyes alone,  but obligations  to  Father  and  the  others  had  made  privacy impossible.

Vincent had arranged for one of the boys to walk Catherine home, and then he had gathered his packs, kissed Father on the head,  and had shared one last lingering look with the woman he loved.

Now he was moving down the familiar passages.  Because his start had been late, he had expected to spend his first night at Narcissa's chamber, but when he arrived there he found her gone.  Making his  camp  just  outside her quarters,  he left her a canister of the tea he knew she favored.  He smiled quietly as he remembered the times he and Devin  had  brought  her the  tea  as  a  "peace  offering"  when she had watched them play in the Chamber of the Winds.  Her mysterious ways had  brought  spice  to  their imagined  adventures.  Playing  the roles of King Arthur and Lancelot was much more fun when there was a genuine "Merlin" watching.
 

The  next  morning  found him following the narrow passages far above the river.  He was well below the pipes and away  from  the  winds,  and  the silence  here  was  total.  Later  in  the day he would begin to hear the  murmurs  of  the river as it moved over boulders and through the narrower channels.

He ate his midday meal in a chamber above a high precipice,  and then  he rigged  a  rope  to aid in his descent.  Leaving the rope behind him,  he continued  down,  pleased  with  his  progress  and  relishing  the  rareprivilege of being alone and setting his own pace.

His  sense  of  time told him it was late evening when he finally came tothe river.  He emerged upon a wide  shelf  which  overlooked  the  water.Years ago he and Devin had stored a large  supply  of  firewood  in  this place.  Much  of  the  wood was actually the remains of the raft they had built.  When the raft had become  waterlogged,  they had left it  on  the narrow  beach  below.  Sometime later,  the boys had decided the wood was better suited for burning.  After Devin was gone,  the campfires had lost their  charm,  but  the  wood pile was still here.  Vincent chose several pieces and lashed them into a bundle which he could carry  on  his  back.The wood would make hot meals possible for the next several nights.

After  supper  he reclined against a large boulder and noted the initials carved into the stone surface.  Memories of Devin  were  painful.  Almost twenty  years  had  passed since his disappearance.  Still,  when Vincent toured a new part of the tunnels he feared the possibility of coming upon his adopted brother's bones in some remote and unexplored place.  He  and Father had searched until all hope had been lost,  and finally Father had assumed Devin was dead.  Vincent had refused to share  that  belief,  but after all this time he had to admit it was a probability.

Vincent put another log on the fire and reached for Catherine's book bag. He glanced at the O'Donnell books without opening  them.  He  had  tucked his 1972 journal and "The Prophet" into her pack,  and it was the Gibran he was seeking.  Taking "The Prophet" from the bag,  he carried it back to his resting place.  He read the book from cover to cover,  and then he turned to the section on Self-Knowledge.  When he had been seventeen these words had spoken to him with promise:
 

The experience with Lisa  and  the terror which followed it  had  plunged Vincent into the depths of self-doubt.  Seeking solace, he had sought the sea that year.  He had followed the river until he could go  no  further, and  somehow he had felt his failure to find the ocean had contributed to his incomplete understanding of himself.  So  now  he  was  here,  trying again.

His fingers opened the book to the passage on Love.
 

Direct  the  course.  Vincent closed the book.  Father was asking Vincent to direct the course of his love for Catherine.  If the Prophet spoke the truth, Father was asking the impossible.

Vincent slept badly that night,  dreaming of Devin  lost  in  the  lowest chambers,  and  of Catherine crying alone on her balcony.  After hours of fitful  tossing,  he  finally  arose and packed his things.  He needed to travel beyond the memories of this place.

As he walked,  the river broadened, flowing over large boulders which had fallen from the cave's ceiling centuries ago.  The wide ledge on which he  had slept the night before  had  once  been  the  river's  bed,  but  now  currents  had  moved  the  channel,   carving  it  deeper,  creating  the  passageway where Vincent was  traveling.  He  held  up  the  lantern  and  peered  into the distance,  but the lantern's light was too dim to pierce  the darkness beyond,  and he could not see the other side of  the  river.   He  missed  the  mysterious  light which illuminated the greater chambers nearer the surface.  So much of the beauty in these  chambers  and  caves was forever hidden in the darkness,  and he could only  guess  about  the  wonders he passed but could not see.

He walked rapidly, stopping occasionally to enjoy the solitude. Catherine was never far from his thoughts,  but he did not violate his  promise  to Father.  The bond remained dormant.

As evening approached, Vincent began to experience an uneasiness which he tried to ignore.  He had left bittersweet memories  behind this  morning, but  a  whole  new  set of very disturbing emotions centered upon a place ahead of him along the river.  Unwilling to give  any  acknowledgment  to the  old  terrifying memories,  Vincent chose to leave the river path.  A narrow cleft in the cavern wall gave him an alternate  route,  making  it possible for him to avoid the menace which he had once encountered.  The detour opened again upon the river several miles further down, and it was here he chose to spend his third night.

The  fourth  day  passed  without incident,  but when Vincent camped that night,  he knew the next day would hold  challenge  and  danger.  In  the morning he would enter the Great Maze.