Equinox (Augarten Book 1) Read online

  "A priori onus Pater…"

  A soft voice in the quiet darkness. "Gabriel."

  Something tender tugged at me. I jolted awake. My arms were wrapped around Solomon's hips, my head in his lap. I was clinging to him like a lifeline.

  I lurched up with a gasp. "Solomon. Whoa, what happened?"

  He smiled softly. "The cathedral on Taborstraße just tolled midnight."

  I dragged the back of my hand across my mouth. "Oh. Sorry I fell asleep on you." I pushed onto my knees and hissed. "My legs went numb."

  Eventually standing, I tried to pop my back. I would need to walk this out.

  Solomon stood, straightening his clothes. "To bed with you. I'll let myself out."

  "Yeah, okay. Thanks for tonight."

  "See you later." He held his hand out and I shook it.

  Waking up so suddenly made it hard to go back to sleep, so once I got feeling back in my legs, I strolled through Augarten, enjoying the quiet. Sitting on a park bench, I folded my legs up against my chest, resting my cheek against my knees.

  "I have so much these days," I whispered to the garden. I could look at it as having very little, but that emptiness was too painful to face alone.

  I was at least getting a handle on things. I could hold it together until I got my memories back. Then I would return to my former life. The sky over Augarten was the same near-black blue I'd seen my first night. Lulled by the crows cawing, I closed my eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  Sniff, sniff sniff.

  Someone flicked my ear, and I woke. My senses flew into heightened alert as I realized someone was near me. I froze, holding my breath. Something was smelling my hair. Sniff, puff. Snorting it, more like. If I was still seated on the park bench in Augarten, then the animal had to be very large indeed to be able to reach my head. A soft nose snuffled my ear. My mind irrationally summoned the image of an elephant and handed it to me. Not helpful.

  I whooshed an exhalation, testing the animal's skittishness. Very slowly, I lifted my head but did not sit back to expose my chest and throat. That would be truly dangerous with a large animal that could kick.

  A black horse munched on my hair: larger than a pony, but not the slender height and grace of a show horse. This horse was built for hard work: wide shoulders, a muscular neck, hefty weight, and stumpy legs. When I lifted my head, it hovered its hairy black nostrils over my forehead, mouthing my eyebrows with its lips. It gave a hmm that sounded very intelligent for a horse, more like the hum of intellectual consideration, rather than the dissatisfaction of a hungry animal in search of food.

  I held still and its lips completely covered my nose, puffing air hard enough to pressurize my head and make my ears pop. "Yowch! Ach!" I lurched away, then realized that was stupid. I had exposed my neck—

  The horse stepped forward and pushed its large head into the opening I'd given him, nosing me back against the park bench and proceeding to chomp on my shirt. I realized this horse might try to eat my clothes off my body, and I needed a plan so it could do that without getting my fingers as well.

  I cupped my hands around its jowls and pet its neck softly. "Do you want food? I can find apples or carrots for you, but you have to let me go."

  Hmph, came the reply. The horse pulled back and met my eyes and I gasped. Instead of the warm brown of a horse's eyes, dark blue irises the same color as the night sky looked straight at me. Then with a tremor, my eyes caught the full harvest moon looming over Augarten. That pale light shone everywhere. A flock of birds took flight in my chest—this was my dream vision.

  "You're not just a horse," I surmised. "You are magical. I should have noticed earlier. What is your name? What can I do for you?"

  The horse puffed air so hard it blew my bangs off my forehead, still damp from the chewing. Then the horse manipulated those large black lips for a moment, as if trying to work some taffy free from its teeth. "I think you know my name."

  A shiver ran up my spine at hearing the horse speak. A distinctly low, female voice, almost young, like a woman in her forties, not yet aged but already wise.

  "I don't know." I shuddered. "Is your name…Augarten?"

  The horse whinnied a laugh. "That will do. Now, what is it that I want?"

  I scrambled. "Apples?" Could it really be that easy?

  The horse shook her head, slowly side to side, as if she had all the time in the world. As if she were human. "I can give you what you want, if you give me what I want in exchange."

  I felt a burning in my chest, hope rising from within. Questions flew out of me in a rush. "Do you know who I am? Who I was before? Can you tell me my name? Where is my family?"

  Right at that moment, I had the strange sensation of someone gripping me in the pit of my stomach and clenching, hard. I slouched in pain, groaning.

  The horse flicked its ears and huffed.

  Then as clear as day, I felt someone lean over and whisper in my ear with a male voice familiar and yet not mine: Say no.

  My heart hammered in my chest, my thoughts flying into overdrive. Not only was a horse talking to me, but now I had this voice in my head too. Whose voice was that? Do I have a guardian angel? Is someone here with me?

  Nausea ripped through me like a punch in the gut, and I heard the voice again. Do not agree to her exchange.

  Wait a second, I replied. I'll take my answers any way I can get them. She is magical—she could tell me who I am.

  Don't do this. Trust me. Yes, I am your angel. You need to listen to me and not give her what she wants.

  Trust you? I don't even know who you are, or who I am for that matter.

  The statue you see when you meditate…your Watcher at the Threshold is there for a reason, Gabriel—

  That isn't my name!

  The horse nodded slowly, up and down, up and down.

  The nausea was so strong I doubled over, fighting to ignore the voice and focus on the horse. "How do you know my information and I don't?"

  "I have read your story," she answered.

  That was a strange way to put it. "And what do you want from me in exchange?" The horse seemed to think I should already know.

  She flicked her ears. "Return what you took from me."

  I sat up despite the nausea and held my hands out to the animal. "How do I do that when I don't know what I took?"

  "Simply say 'I return that which I took from the garden,' and that will do. Words have magic, you know."

  The angel gripped my shoulders, hard. Gabriel, stop. This is not an agony you have to suffer—

  Agony? Of learning who I am and what I've done? Am I some kind of criminal? Was I really so horrible before I lost my memories that not knowing—

  Fine. The hands left my shoulders, and I felt the familiar warmth take a step back. His was a presence I had not noticed until its absence.

  The horse blinked at me, flicked her ears in my direction, and stamped her feet, impatient. I wondered what, if anything, she could overhear from my thoughts.

  So, is that it? I asked the voice. Because I won't listen to you—because I refuse to understand why you are withholding my truth from me—you're going to leave?

  I will never leave you, the voice replied. I never have. But if this is your will, so be it. I will not stop you.

  My heart repeated his words and rejoiced. He would never leave me. This had to be my guardian angel talking to me.

  That gave me pause. This request from the horse was something so important as to make my guardian angel step aside. The weight of this decision fell heavily into my hands, my own destiny of choice, even though I knew neither the terms of the bargain, nor the rules of the game.

  I stood. "I need time to think this over."

  The horse gave a vindictive huff and stomped a hoof.

  In that stomp, the horse disappeared, and the night sky over Augarten grew very dark. No harvest moon, and no pale-lit magic, either. Frightened, I ran through the garden and back inside, not slowing until I made it all the way to the c
ommunity lounge.

  I flicked the light on. Somehow, a place of gathering felt twice as lonely when empty.

  I sat in a chair and sighed. So if you're not the statue in my visions, not the Watcher as you say, then are you the archangel Gabriel?

  I felt a smile in his voice. No, I'm not.

  So thrilled I could open up this line of communication so easily, I almost forgot to follow up. Care to elaborate?

  Nothing.

  I sighed. No way could I sleep now, at least not without nightmares of a horse stomping me to death, or of me regaining my memories only to find out I was some kind of terrible person.

  A pile of vegetables filled one of the tables nearby. I got up and read Andrea's note: Harvest is here—let's get to work! Please peel this garlic and leave it out to dry.

  I smiled, washed my hands, and settled in to work.

  At some point in the night, I abandoned the garlic, trudged back to my storage closet, and collapsed on my pallet on the floor.

  The next morning, I rose and showered and put on freshly laundered clothes. Buttoning up a black hand-me-down shirt from Mrs. Buchinger's son (who must be the exact opposite of me: barrel-chested with a short torso and short arms), my heart fluttered at the prospect of meeting Florian again at the festival. Maybe he was just being nice, but also maybe he actually wanted to talk to me.

  After meditating, which only resulted in me staring at my Watcher statue for a while, I smoothed down the shirt and adjusted the worn-out belt keeping my too short and too wide jeans on my narrow hips. I should check the mirror in the hall, make sure there's nothing amiss.

  Carefully, I stashed my bedding onto a shelf in case people came into the storeroom today.

  I closed the door to the storeroom, walked down the hall to the mirror in the washroom, and froze. Staring back at me was a face I did not recognize as mine.

  In a moment of complete and utter calm, I looked at the person in the mirror, but recognized that this was not really me, or rather, not only me, just a temporary encapsulation of my soul. My real self was not troubled by my present circumstances, nor by my total amnesia. Not troubled by the details of this existence. This was just something I had to handle, another challenge to face with as much humility and poise as I could muster.

  Then my angel slid his hand right next to my ear, pressed his thumb and middle finger together, and snap—

  I gasped, and the image in the mirror clicked into place. I stared at my light grey eyes and they were mine, the dark brown hair, the chapped washed-out lips parted in shock and betrayal, the bony hand clutching my face in disbelief. This was me: here I was, unaware of my real name, abandoned in a garden. The surprise opened a crack of vulnerability, and in rushed the despair I'd been pushing down. Despair that the reason the police searches for missing persons in Austria and the surrounding countries had turned up empty was because no one was looking for me.

  "No. No no no." I wrenched away from the mirror and leaned against the sink, covering my eyes. "Not true. I'm fine. I'm okay." Don't listen to the doubt.

  "Gabriel?"

  I lurched out of the little kitchenette area to find Solomon down the hall. "Morning, Solomon. I'm almost ready."

  He smiled, as if relieved to see me. "Great. Your appointment is in an hour, so we need to scoot."

  I brushed my teeth quickly and joined him.

  "Here."

  I took the small green slip of paper from him. "What's this?"

  "A single-trip train pass. It would take us too long to walk there, and you've got to work the festival after."

  I hurried to follow, wishing I'd eaten something. "Are you going to the festival?"

  He smiled. "We'll see."

  Solomon led me out of Augarten and down the lane on Obere-Augartenstraße to the Taborstraße Ubahn station. I took note of the street signs, committing them to memory so I could navigate by myself later.

  "Any memories resurface?"

  Though I wanted to tell him about the talking horse, I held back. Talking animals felt decidedly un-Catholic to me, and I worried what Solomon might think. Solomon could see angels, so maybe I could tailor my story to include meeting my guardian angel and skip over the horse…

  I shook my head. "I think I love books, but nothing more specific than that. I'll let you know if anything resurfaces, don't worry."

  He gave me a sad smile. "Books are the best; you have good taste."

  "I thought I might have some things return while I slept, but last night, all I dreamed about was digging up beets."

  He laughed.

  We hopped the U2 subway toward Karlsplatz, then got off at a small Jesuit hospital nestled between apartment buildings. It had to be much longer than it was wide, since at the entrance it gave the appearance of a regular Haus in size. I showed my temporary identity paperwork from the police at the reception desk, and they pointed us in the direction of Radiology.

  "Have you ever had an MRI?" I asked softly.

  Solomon shook his head. "I've heard they can be pretty startling—they're quite loud, and you're not allowed to move or sleep. Surely the technicians have noise canceling headphones for you."

  Suppressing a sigh, I again wished I'd eaten something. With only water in my system, I was already jittery. I wanted to tell Solomon I'd met my guardian angel, wanted to see if he could talk to my angel about getting my memories back. I didn't have time for some stupid MRI to determine my age when the police could have just pegged me at thirty and been done with it. At Radiology, Solomon stayed out in the waiting room while I went inside. The tech gave me a set of headphones and strapped me to a table, explaining in overly simple German to absolutely not move no matter what. Then he left and shut the door behind him.

  Though Solomon had warned me, I wasn't prepared for how incredibly loud it was, so loud I could not think over the audio chaos that stabbed me like a needle to the brain. The clanking made it sound as if I were inside a torture chamber made of industrial machines. I begged my mind to summon any kind of song whose refrains could distract me, and—bless me—the only tune that came to mind was Mrs. Buchinger's squawky cell phone jingle.

  I tried to picture Augarten and how the wind felt in the early mornings. I wanted to remember the soft melodies Florian had sung when he prayed, knowing that would comfort me. But I could not find his lilting voice amidst the chaos. Instead I watched him in my mind's eye pace around the circle at Augarten. I imagined what it might look like if he were to smile at me, and warmth flooded my chest a moment before the harsh clanking of the MRI shoved it away. Then I replayed Solomon saying the prayer of Saint Patrick, and the combined power of the two men served to finally comfort me.

  The table moved at a snail's pace, rolling me excruciatingly slowly until I was completely submerged inside the tight chamber, unable to escape the sound. And there I stayed, for so long I began to lose hope that I would ever leave. Tears leaked out of my eyes, but I could not move to wipe them.

  It seemed an eternity before the machine fell silent, and the assistant reentered the room and let me out.

  Solomon froze when he saw me exit, his expression alarmed. "Gabriel, are you okay?"

  I finished wiping the last of my tears across my sleeve. "I guess so." I did not have words to explain my distress.

  He carefully touched my shoulders and guided me to his seat. "Can I pray over you?"

  Unable to form a response, I nodded. Admittedly, certain things felt familiar, as if they were on instinct—I liked gardens, expressive men, reading, and wasn't scared of hard work—but I felt no sense of homecoming with the tradition of Catholicism. But connectedness with Solomon? That was something I could be sure of.

  Solomon stood before me, placed one hand gently on my head and the other over the crucifix he wore around his neck. The rest of the people in the waiting room fell completely silent. Soft, Latin words floated over me, and although I did not know what he prayed, that somehow made it better.

  Chapter Eight

 
Solomon had to check in with his supervisor at work before he could make it to the festival, so I returned to Augarten alone. Finding a pile of potatoes in the lounge that needed peeling, I took a seat and got to work. The door opened and a short, stout woman with wild silver and white hair entered the lounge, her expression warm and welcoming. "You must be Gabriel."

  I jumped up, put down the potato I was holding, and shook her hand. Her smile was almost a grin, and I felt like the deep blue of her eyes saw much further into me than she let on, clear like the waters of a crater lake.

  She released my hand after a moment and continued appraising me. I placed my hands on the table and folded them, anxious to get back to work, but knowing that would come off as rude.

  "My name is Maria. I'm the head gardener here."

  "Nice to meet you. The Augarten farm is gorgeous."

  She cocked her head to the side in a self-deprecating gesture. "Thank you. I mainly work on the placement of plantings so we can encourage the garden's natural immune system. We're not officially licensed as organic, but it's rare we are forced to resort to a pesticide."

  I nodded, impressed with how calculated something like planting could be. "That must be very involved."

  She shrugged. "It's a skill that takes many harvests to develop. I've left a lot of carnage in my wake from mistakes over the years."

  I laughed. "Sounds messy."

  "Makes for good compost, if not good food. Anyway, Andrea asked me to speak with you privately, if you have a moment and don't mind."

  "Absolutely."

  I invited her to sit and quickly whipped up cups of coffee.

  "Andrea said you mentioned colors coming out of the garden bed?"

  I nodded. "She said you had mentioned such things to her before. Can you see the energies of plants?"