Authors: Davis, Bryan
E C H O E S F R O M T H E E D G E
BEYOND THE REFLECTION’S EDGE
Beyond the Reflection’s Edge
Copyright © 2008 by Bryan Davis
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Zondervan.
EPub Edition © 2008 ISBN: 978-0-310-56697-7
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data: Applied for
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other — except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
“Dragons in Our Midst” and “Oracles of Fire” are registered trademarks of AMG Publishers.
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BEYOND THE REFLECTION’S EDGE
Action, intrigue, and take-home value—the very essence of a powerful story.
— Wayne Thomas Batson, Author of
The Door Within Trilogy, Isle of Swords, and Isle of Fire
… a sci-fi thriller, packed with action & adventure, that hurtles along at top speed from beginning to end.
— L.B. Graham, Author of
The Binding of the Blade
Davis so starkly contrasts good and evil amid a unique interdimensional mystery the readers are left feeling that they received a glimpse of the pure love of Christ.
— Scott Appleton, Author & Editor for
Mind Flights Magazine
… a tale of families and friends bound by love and faith in the midst of scientific discoveries that could change creation for the better … or the worse. A great read.
— Jason Waguespack,
The World of Rigel Chase: Legend of the Shaper
A true masterpiece worthy to be played before the Great Composer himself.
— C. Schlamp, Age 15
This is one book where even before you read the first page you’ll need to buckle your seat belt and hang on for dear life!
— L. A. Clark, Age 17
… this latest story is not only Bryan Davis’ best yet, it is by far the best novel that I have read to date.
— S. Baird, Age 19
Full of high adventure and spiritual truth,
Beyond the Reflection’s Edge
had me spellbound from the first page to the last.
— T. Sasse, Age 17
… a beautiful, captivating story of genuine love, blended with plenty of action, adventure, and suspense. An absolute must read!
— M. Puckett, Age 22
Filled with unforgettable characters, intense action, and heart-wrenching moments, this book is a must read.
— T. Bowers, Age 15
… an amazing story of fantasy, adventure, and an unparalleled exploration that will keep you turning pages until you’re done.
— C. Rochester, Age 16
The detail and complexity are amazing! Everything fits together like a puzzle just waiting to be solved.
— R. Hagan, Age 15
… just as powerful, action-packed, and deep as Dragons in Our Midst and Oracles of Fire. I can’t wait to read the next one!
— C. Wolters, Age 26
A stunning tale, alternately chilling and tender … a must read!
— J. Fulcher, Age 15
… an action-packed, fast-moving plot that both held me captive and challenged his characters. I can’t wait to see what happens in Book Two.
— C. Shupe, Age 27
… a heartwarming and action-filled adventure that will keep you reading and asking for more when you are finished.
— J. De Reus, Age 16
On a scale of 1 – 10, this book is a definite 20!
— L. Lee, Age 11
When images of the mind stretch beyond what we can see with our eyes, then the portals open, allowing us to view the face of God. As I searched for portals in my dreams, my son dreamed with me and found a golden key within a mirror. Thank you, Josiah, for being a reflection of God’s image and helping me unlock another door to the beyond.
Nathan watched his tutor peer out the window. She was being paranoid again. That guy following them in the Mustang had really spooked her. “Chill out, Clara. He doesn’t know what room we’re in.”
She slid the curtains together, casting a blanket of darkness across the motel room. “He parked near the lobby entrance. We’d better pack up and leave another way.” She clicked on a corner table lamp. The pale light seemed to deepen the wrinkles on her face and hands. “How much more time do you need?”
Nathan sat on the bed nearer the window, a stack of pillows between his back and the wall, and tapped away at his laptop. “Just a couple of minutes.” He looked up at her and winked. “Dad’s slide rule must’ve been broken. It took almost an hour to balance the books.”
Clara slid her sweater sleeve up an inch and glared at her wristwatch. Nathan knew that look all too well. His tutor’s steely eyes and furrowed brow meant the Queen of Punctuality was counting the minutes. They were cutting it close, and they still had to get the reports bound at Kinko’s before they could meet his parents at the performance hall for the company’s quarterly meeting. And who could tell what delays that goon in the prowling Mustang might cause? His father had noticed the guy this morning before he left, and he looked kind of worried, but that could’ve been from the bean and onion burrito he had eaten for breakfast.
Nathan frowned at the spreadsheet. “This formula doesn’t make sense. Dad’s trying to divide by zero.”
“Can you call and ask him on the way? We have to hit the road.”
Nathan pushed the laptop to the side. He knew how his father would respond. He’d just grin and say, “Dividing by zero reflects my creativity.” Nathan laughed. Dad knew a lot more about math than he ever let on; he just concentrated on spying and research and let Nathan do the number crunching.
As Clara peered out again, he looked over her shoulder. The driver of the black Mustang was parked under a tree, sloppily eating a sandwich as he watched the front door of the motel. An intermittent shower of leaves, blown around by Chicago’s never-ending breezes, danced about on the convertible’s ragtop.
“Don’t worry about him,” Nathan said. “He’s too obvious to be a pro.”
“True enough. But you don’t have to be a pro to frighten an old lady.”
As she turned toward him, he gave her the goofiest clueless stare he could conjure. “I’m not an old lady!”
He waited for Clara’s infectious laugh that had brightened a hundred mornings in dozens of strange and lonely cities all over the world. But it didn’t come. A shadow of worry passed across her face, draining the color from her cheeks.
He squinted at her. “Something else is bugging you.”
For a moment, she just stared, a faraway look in her eyes. Finally, she shook her head as if casting off a dream. “Did you pack the mirror your father gave you?”
“I think so.” He jumped up and walked over both beds before bouncing to the floor in front of the shallow closet. A towel-wrapped bundle sat on top of his suitcase at the very peak of a haphazard pile of clothes. Carefully unfolding the towel, he revealed a square, six-by-six-inch mirror with an ornate silver
frame. His father had entrusted this mirror to him just yesterday, calling it a “Quattro” viewer and warning him to keep it safe.
Nathan pondered the strange word that represented his father’s latest assignment, something about retrieving stolen data for a company that used reflective technology. Dad had been tight-lipped about the details, but he had leaked enough clues to allow for guessing.
He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, the familiar portrait he expected, but something bright pulsed in his eyes, like the split-second flash of a camera. Clara’s face appeared just above his blond cowlick, suddenly much closer.
He spun his head around. Strange. She was still near the window. When he turned back to the mirror, her image was no longer there.
As she walked up behind him, her face reappeared in the glass. Nathan glanced back and forth between the mirror and Clara. The inconsistent images were just too weird.
The opening notes of Beethoven’s Fifth chimed from his computer — his custom sound for new email. Still holding the mirror, he leaped back to his computer and pulled up the message, a note from his father.
Your mother is rehearsing with Nikolai, and that reminded me to remind you that she’s going to call you to the stage to play your duet for the shareholders. She’ll have your violin, all tuned and ready to sizzle. Since it’s the Vivaldi piece, you shouldn’t have any problem. Just don’t mention your performance to Dr. Simon. Trust me. It will all work out.
Two words embedded in Nathan’s mind,
, the same words he had heard so many times before. With all the narrow escapes his father had engineered over the years, what else could he do but trust him?
Clara flung a pair of wadded gym socks that bounced off his chin. “Where is your tux?” she called as she searched through his crumpled clothes.
“I hung it on the shower rod.” He patted a shiny motorcycle helmet sitting on his night table. He had hoped to ride their Harleys through town. With Clara in her new dress and him in a tux, they would’ve looked as cool as ice. But, no, they had to hitch a ride in the company limo. With their chauffeur, Mike, at the wheel, they’d be better off in a hearse. He wouldn’t do more than thirty even in a forty-five zone.