AUTUMN REED
Copyright © 2019 by Autumn Reed
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Covers by Combs
ForJ.K.Rowling,withoutwhomI’dbeforcedtoincludeevenmore Disneyreferences.Noonewantsthat.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Touch of Promise Preview
A Note from Autumn Acknowledgments
Also by Autumn Reed About the Author
Chapter One
“STOWE IS GOING TO DIE. ”
Jameson’s strangled words reverberated through the meditation room, and the remaining pieces of my shattered heart crumbled into dust. No. It couldn’t be true.
I still wore my funeral dress and gloves. The scent of churned dirt constantly inundated my senses. Death and despair clung to me like a second skin. The world was dark and growing blacker with every breath.
I couldn’t take any more. There was no space left in my mind, in my soul, to process pain. Especially the kind of pain brought on by loss.
Despite my best efforts, Stowe’s grinning face sprang to mind. His smile always seemed to take over his huge frame, making him appear like an impish child stuck in a grown man’s body. A very sexy, muscular body.
But his affable personality was what had drawn me to him from the beginning. He flirted like it was second nature, and surprisingly, that didn’t bother me in the slightest. Because everything that came out of Stowe’s mouth felt honest. Real. He was so easy to be with, and the thought of something happening to him…
The room started shrinking around me. No, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it.
“When?” I forced out. “How?”
Jameson’s head snapped up, and he stared at me like he’d never seen me before. “What?”
“Stowe. When…how is he going to die?”
He shook his head, refusing to answer.
“Show me.” I removed my gloves and stretched a hand toward him, but he jerked away from my touch.
“Stop.”
Anger replaced my anguish, and I welcomed it with open arms. This was a place I knew well. I was comfortable here. Much more comfortable than I’d been for those brief moments when Jameson had been candid with me. When he’d admitted that he couldn’t risk getting close to me.
I didn’t know what to do with a vulnerable Jameson Drake.
But the Mr. Assface Jameson? That one I could handle.
“Are you seriously going to be petty?” I spat out. “Now? About this?”
Any remaining softness in his demeanor vanished as his dark eyebrows drew together menacingly. “Can you come down from your high horse for one minute and fucking listen to me?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my head, giving him permission to proceed.
He let out an aggravated, guttural sound before standing and stalking to the other side of the room, his back to me. His stance radiated tension, even as his head fell in defeat. “I said no because you don’t want to see the vision.”
“I assure you, I do.” Who the hell did he think he was telling me what I did or didn’t want?
“No, you don’t.” He spun and glared at me. “Because, if you do, you’ll never be able to unsee it. For the rest of your life, you’ll never be able to wipe the sight of Stowe on the floor, bleeding, drawing his last breath. Even if we manage to change things, and that never happens, it’ll be there. In the back of your mind. Behind your eyelids when you try and fail—to fall asleep.”
The vicious retort sitting on the tip of my tongue retreated as the horror of what he’d seen hit me like a deluge of sixteenth-century musket balls. Stowe…bleeding…dying. Did I want to see that? The
mere thought of it made my stomach pitch. And Jameson had known, must have known, what it would do to me.
Unlike me, he didn’t have a choice, and for the first time, I began to understand a little bit of what it must be like to be Jameson Drake. His words weren’t ones of warning; they were words of experience. He’d seen things he clearly never wanted to. Things he could never forget.
Once again, my anger began to wane, but I couldn’t have that. I needed something to grasp onto other than my sadness.
“At least tell me what you saw?” I changed the demand into a question at the last moment, hoping to garner at least a slight amount of cooperation from Jameson. Not that I deserved it after the way I jumped all over him.
God, I was a mess.
The door burst open, and a harried-looking Jem walked into the room with Noah and Stowe on her heels. “Fucking hell. I can’t believe you left in the middle of the funeral like that. I was freaking out.”
I knew I was supposed to respond to her, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Stowe. He was here, in one giant-size piece and offering me a cautious smile. I itched to leap up from the floor and throw myself into his arms, like I had that day in front of the spa. He’d held my weight like it was nothing, his strong arms comforting, the brush of his beard against my cheek pleasurable.
But as relieved as I was to see him, I wasn’t that girl from two weeks ago anymore. At the hands of Grace Morrow and her Collector cohorts, I’d lost everything. Whitehurst Antiques was in shambles. My home had been reduced to a pile of ashes. And…
I swallowed around the mammoth lump in my throat.
…And I’d been forced to say a final goodbye to my dad.
Much like my shop, I was nothing but a shell of my former self. Pieces of my soul were strewn all over the floor, and no amount of super adhesive would put them back together again. There was nothing left. Nothing but a numb kind of heartache mixed with the uncompromising need for vengeance.
“Adele.” Jem uttered my name softly as she fell to her knees by my side. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun, completely concealing the array of colors she loved to flaunt. “You look pale. Did something happen?”
“I’m a redhead. I’m always pale.” Around my snarky reply, I shot a questioning look at Jameson. He shook his head slightly, and I narrowed my eyes. Was he seriously going to keep his vision from the rest of the Psych Squad?
Jem looked between me and her brother, frowning. “What’s going on with you two?”
I waited for Jameson to explain, but his luscious lips appeared glued together. So, I said vaguely, “Oh, you know, the usual.”
She let out an exasperated huff. “Why did you even come here?”
Pushing up from the floor, I ignored the spinning sensation my movements caused and put my gloves back on, all the while avoiding Mr. Hot and Frowny’s gaze. “I needed to talk to Jameson. But we’re done now, and I’m leaving.”
I could have sworn there were weights strapped to my ankles as I took those first few steps toward the door. Leaving was the last thing I wanted after Jameson’s ominous declaration. The need to stay and figure out a way to protect Stowe was as instinctual as breathing. I couldn’t bear the idea of him hurt…or worse.
But I’d seen firsthand what could happen while attempting to prevent an undesirable future. After Jameson’s vision of Sheila-thesuccubus-Collector convincing George to sell his half of our antique business to her, I’d taken things into my own hands. I’d listened to Andrea when she assured me everything would be all right if she purchased George’s interest instead. And that had ended up being the biggest mistake of my life.
Andrea. Her name alone made me shudder in hatred and disgust. She was the reason Grace Morrow found out about me in the first place. For over a decade, she’d been working for Collectors, turning especially gifted Psychs over to them. Not to mention her part in the deaths of her friends. She’d been lying to Jem, Jameson, Noah, and Stowe for all these years, allowing them to believe their parents had died in an accident, rather than at the hands of Collectors.
Still, as much as I wanted to blame Andrea for everything that happened, I was the one who set the events in motion that led us here. And I refused to be responsible for doing to Stowe what I’d done to my dad. This one time, I needed to accept that maybe Jameson knew better how to deal with this situation. Because I sure as shit didn’t know anything.
If it was best for the vision of Stowe’s death to remain a secret, I would go along with it.
For now.
The big guy stepped in front of me, easily blocking my exit. “Please don’t go.”
I stared at the tanned skin revealed by the parting of his stark white button-down shirt. It occurred to me that I’d never seen Stowe wearing anything other than a T-shirt or hoodie, and the dress clothes suited him surprisingly well. My eyes roved over the expensive-looking fabric, and I couldn’t help noticing how it clung to him, outlining the hard lines of his massive shoulders and chest.
But it only took seconds for the day to catch up with me. Even his impressive physique wasn’t a satisfactory distraction from the shit show that was my life. And Jameson’s newest vision wasn’t helping matters.
“I can’t stay,” I whispered, unable to meet Stowe’s gaze. It would be too difficult to hide what I was feeling for him right now. He would never understand my desire to smother him in bullet-and-fireproof bubble wrap without knowing the truth.
“Then, come home with us,” he pleaded as he smoothed a strand of my hair with his large fingers.
I shook my head. I needed to be alone…didn’t I?
For the last few days, I’d been hiding away in my hotel room, just leaving long enough to make the funeral arrangements and purchase a few necessities. I’d been certain that alone was the only way to be. That I didn’t deserve to have anyone in my life after what I’d done.
But now that I was in the presence of Jem, Noah, and Stowe, I didn’t know if I had the strength to hold out. I could feel their desire to be there for me rolling off them in waves. Jem would most likely
give up on the coddling soon and start ordering me around. And I was pretty sure Stowe would throw me over his shoulder and carry me out of here if I didn’t give in.
I couldn’t deny that I was tempted.
When I allowed my gaze to stray to Noah, and saw his knowing expression, I inwardly groaned, calling myself a thousand shades of idiot. In my muddled state, it hadn’t occurred to me that Noah would know exactly what I’d been feeling since the moment he walked through the door. He knew something was up, but in typical Noah fashion, he was observing rather than speaking. Or asking questions. They were there, though. In his eyes and the concerned tilt of his head.
“There’s no point in pushing us away,” Noah said in that soft voice that held compassion mixed with a heavy dose of certainty. Beads of sweat gathered around his temples, letting me know he was feeling my turmoil. He shouldn’t even be here right now, not when I was lacking the capacity to control my emotions...or even want to. “It won’t change anything, and it won’t work. We’re here for you, and we’re not going anywhere.”
He didn’t mention the elephant in the room that was probably more like a Tyrannosaurus rex to him, since he could read my emotions…and Jameson’s. Part of me wished he would force the vision out of Jameson. But I also didn’t want to think about it anymore. And I trusted that Jameson would have said something already if there was an immediate threat.
“He’s right,” Jem said as she moved to Noah’s side. “We want you to come stay with us. As you know, there’s plenty of room at the house. And it’ll be safe for you there.”
Safe. Was anyplace safe? For me...for any of us?
“I don’t know...”
The truth was, I hadn’t given a second thought to where I would live. It had taken every bit of strength I had to get through the funeral arrangements and show up in that cemetery today. I supposed I could look for a furnished apartment or move to an extended stay hotel. Neither option was tempting in the least, but could I really go live on the estate with the Psych Squad indefinitely?
I glanced toward Jameson, certain he was gearing up to voice his protests. But when my eyes met his chocolatey ones, they weren’t indignant like I expected. He didn’t go so far as to offer a smile, but he wasn’t throwing off hostile vibes either.
Jem took my gloved hand and squeezed gently. “We’ve alltalked about it, and this is what we want. There’s absolutely no reason for you to turn us down.”
“Except that I’d be putting you in danger. More danger. You saw what the Collectors did to my shop and house. What’s going to stop them from doing the same to the estate?”
“Andrea will—”
Stowe shook his head to stop her, but he needn’t have bothered. I interrupted, anyway. “Andrea can’t be trusted. You have to know that. She’s been lying to you for years.”
Jem snapped her mouth shut, but I could see the disagreement on her face. Thankfully, Noah chose that moment to step in.
“We have a top-of-the-line security system, and we have Jem. She’s not at home all the time, but when she is, she’ll know if trouble is headed our way. It’s your best option, Adele. You have to see that.”
Did I? Because everything seemed blurry. The past, the present, and definitely the future. I didn’t know what was best for me or for them. I didn’t trust myself anymore. That was the simple truth.
When I didn’t immediately resist, Jem shot me her signature grin. “It’s decided, then.” She laced her arm through mine and started leading me back through the yoga studio. “We’ll go pick up your stuff at the hotel and grab some junk food on the way home.” She pinched my side, and I yelped. “You’re wasting away.”
Like it had ever since Grace’s fateful phone call, the thought of food turned my stomach. But I didn’t bother arguing. There was no point when it came to Jemimah Drake. She was determined to smother me, and as much as I wanted to hate her for it, I couldn’t.
Deep down, I knew I needed her. If nothing else, I had to remain strong and healthy. It was the only way I could fulfill my final promise to my dad—the Collectors would pay.
Chapter Two
I STOOD IN THE DOORWAY OF THE SPACIOUS GUEST ROOM IN THE DRAKE mansion, trying to find some semblance of home between the four walls painted in a silvery gray. Like the rest of the house, the room was impeccably furnished and decorated. The deep purple upholstered headboard complemented the mirrored dresser and nightstands. And the subtly patterned bedding was made of the most luxurious fabric I’d ever seen. It was all gorgeous.
And it didn’t feel a bit like me.
I was used to the antique four poster bed and matching wardrobe I’d purchased as a teenager. George had driven me to every estate sale in the area for months until we found the perfect set. The wood had been scarred and chipped in places, but that had never mattered. I’d loved them in spite of and because of those flaws.
But they were gone. As were the curtains my mom had handsewn for my eighth birthday. My gloves, my photographs and keepsakes, and the antiques I’d spent years meticulously collecting. It was all a pile of ash.
“You don’t like it.”
The sound of Jem’s deflated words snapped me out of my reverie, and I turned to offer her a wan smile. “Of course, I do.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Please. You’re a terrible liar.”
I studied the room once again, taking in every detail. The designer had clearly spared no expense, but it wasn’t so lavish as to make the space stuffy or uncomfortable. And maybe the feelings of unfamiliarity the scene evoked were for the best. I didn’t need to be constantly reminded of everything I’d lost. I needed something completely new and fresh.
“I do like it,” I said honestly. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”
“Are you sure?” Her expression was doubtful, and I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t exactly in the frame of mind to be convincing. “There’s also the room you stayed in after…”
As Jem trailed off, my mind immediately jumped to waking up in a strange bed, memories of the fire that stole my dad’s life slowly filtering into my consciousness. It was one of the worst moments of my life—that final realization that he was gone—and my limbs seemed to grow numb the more I thought about it.
I’d been living in despair for the last few days, and it would be so easy to jump feet first down that rabbit hole again. It was simpler to drown myself in sorrow, to feel so much pain and anger and regret that I stopped understanding what it meant to feel in the first place.
Forcing myself to remain present…that was the hard part.
“Anyway,” Jem continued with strained cheeriness, “I thought you’d like this one better. It’s bigger, and it’s farther away from Jameson’s room.”
I snorted an almost-laugh. Despite having only known me for a month, she got me. Living in the same house with her infuriating brother would be enough of a challenge; I didn’t need to be right down the hall from him as well. We’d probably end up burning down the estate with the power of our fiery glares alone.
“It’s perfect. I promise.”
“You haven’t even seen the best part yet!” She flounced to a closed door and flung it open.
With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, I followed her into an enormous walk-in closet. Not surprisingly, it was as elegant as the rest of the house, with floor-to-ceiling shelves and cubbies on one side, and drawers and numerous rods for hanging clothes on the
other. A large mirror was mounted to the wall opposite the door, and a velvet chaise lounge sat in the middle of the room.
Jem gestured to the clothes already hanging up, along with a selection of shoes, bags, and other accessories. “Obviously, this won’t make up for everything you lost, but it should get you started.”
“Those are for me?”
My gaze had barely skimmed over them, assuming they were overflow from Jem’s own wardrobe. But now that I took a closer look, I noticed the abundance of tailored dresses, slacks, and shirts in solid colors. They were nothing like the flowy tops and floral prints she normally wore.
She placed her hands on her hips and gave me a withering look. “Yes, and you have to start eating again, or they won’t fit.”
“Yes, Mother.” The flippant words slipped out before I had a chance to think about them. It probably wasn’t an appropriate retort given the parental baggage we each carried around, but maybe that’s what made it okay. We’d both lost our mothers way too young; it was undoubtedly one of the reasons we’d hit it off so quickly.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Jem replied, not missing a beat. As she strode out of the room, she tossed over her shoulder, “Dinner is in an hour. And make sure to check out the drawers on your left.”
Suddenly needing to shed my funeral dress, I changed into a pair of jeans and a soft sweater. Even though the clothes were in my size, they were noticeably loose. Jem was right—I really did need to start eating. It was a miracle I hadn’t passed out from hunger already.
After unpacking my meager belongings, I opened one of the drawers Jem referenced and stared in silent wonder. It was divided into sections, each one holding a pair of gloves in a variety of colors and styles. I opened the next drawer and then the next and found more of the same.
There were fancy gloves and plain gloves, light gloves and heavy gloves, and everything in between. How had she even found so many so quickly? I would have said it was impossible if the evidence
wasn’t laid out in front of me. It had taken me over a decade, and a shitload of searching, to amass my former collection.
I picked up a dark pink pair with slim black bows at the wrists. They were like the grownup version of the first gloves my mom bought me when I discovered my psychic abilities. Sadly, I wasn’t sure that I’d grown up all that much in the years since. My world felt like it was over that fateful afternoon, and it sure as hell felt like it was over today.
If only my mom was here to help me through this dark time. All I had left were my memories of her, and they seemed to fade more every day. Before long, I’d have to rely on borrowing George’s memories of her to get my fix.
George. A pang—that was more like a bowling ball—of guilt struck me when my former business partner came to mind. Other than begging him not to come home for the funeral, I’d dodged every single one of his calls since breaking the news of Dad’s death.
I knew it wasn’t fair to ask him to stay away—he’d been friends with my dad, after all—but I couldn’t take on worrying about him again. Not when I could barely keep my head above water. Though he’d already sold his half of the antique shop to Andrea, he was still in danger from the Collectors. They clearly weren’t above murder, and I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to him. Not now. Not ever. After taking one last longing look at the pretty pink gloves, I replaced them and withdrew a pair of simple black ones instead. That was more like it.
Resisting the urge to crawl into bed and tune out the world, I sat in a tufted arm chair and gazed out windows overlooking the yard and lake behind it. Though the sun was still hiding, the clouds of doom from earlier in the day had lifted, and the snow had stopped, leaving only a light dusting of white over the grass and trees.
Still, if my dad had been here, he would have found a way to at least start a snowball fight. He loved the snow, and since we didn’t get much of it each year, he took advantage of every single inch that fell.
I didn’t want to think about that…about him, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Treasured memories flooded my vision, and all I
could see was his smile. All I could hear was his gruff laugh. All I could feel was the warmth of his love.
Joy and grief swirled together, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other. Tears rolled down my face, even as I laughed at a memory of Dad dressing up as Mufasa for my tenth birthday party. I’d already withdrawn from the other girls at school, so it was just my parents, George, and me. Maybe that’s why my dad worked so hard to make the day special. He’d always gone the extra mile to make me happy.
Time passed in a blur of remembering, until a knock sounded at the door, followed by Noah’s dark head peeking through the open door.
“Dinner’s almost ready.”
“And Jem figured I wouldn’t be able to refuse you?”
He offered a restrained smile. “That, and I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
I opened my arms wide. “And, what’s your verdict? Am I a lost cause?”
“Never.” He straightened, and his vivid blue eyes flashed a warning. “Don’t say that. Better yet, don’t even think it.”
Uncertainty churned in my stomach. At times, Noah seemed to understand what I was feeling even better than I did. For him to react so strongly…
He sighed before sitting on the edge of the bed, facing me. “Sorry. I’ve been worried about you.”
I gulped. “You thought I was suicidal?” When he didn’t immediately deny it, my pulse quickened with fear. “Oh, wow. You did.” I’d been in a dark place for the last few days, but I wasn’t that bad…was I?
“It’s not that, exactly.” He leaned toward me and placed a hand on my knee. “You disappeared, and I didn’t like not knowing where you were or how you were. I thought…” He ran a hand over his face, and for the first time, I noticed the purple smudges under his eyes. “I thought you might do something reckless.”
I opened my mouth but closed it before any words trickled out. Honestly, I didn’t know how to respond. I’d been too despondent to
do anything at all, but that wasn’t something I was especially proud of.
Finally, I said, “I didn’t mean to worry you. I didn’t think about that…or anyone but myself, really.”
Noah squeezed my knee. “You’re allowed to be selfish right now. Just don’t run off again, okay? You’re one of us.”
In that moment, with Noah’s fervently-spoken words bouncing around in my head, it struck me how fortunate I was to have him in the midst of all this tragedy.
If I could go back, I never would have searched for the key that ended up unlocking mysteries better left unsolved. And if I hadn’t found the locket, I never would have shown up at the Drake estate, Jem wouldn’t have hunted me down at the shop, and Andrea wouldn’t have turned me over to the Collectors.
The shop would be intact, my house would be standing, and I’d be spending my free time with Trevor—for better or worse. Most importantly, my dad would still be alive and well.
But I did touch the locket. And with all of our powers, the one thing Psychs couldn’t do was manipulate time. There was no going back. Which meant there was only going forward.
Selfish or not, I was thankful that meant going forward with Noah, Stowe, and Jem by my side. Maybe even Jameson too, though I wasn’t ready to think about that yet.
I’d spent so much of my life feeling like a freak, but I didn’t have to anymore. I was part of an us, and I was done running from it, Collectors be damned.
Chapter Three
I WOKE TO SUNLIGHT STREAMING IN THROUGH THE WINDOWS, AND IT TOOK A few disoriented seconds to remember I was in one of the guest rooms at the Drake estate. My new home, at least temporarily. I wanted to be annoyed with Jem for bullying me into staying with her and the rest of the Psych Squad. But how could I when she’d gone to so much trouble and expense on my behalf?
And this mattress is insanely comfortable, I thought as I burrowed deeper under luxurious sheets that were undoubtedly Egyptian cotton. The temptation to hide in bed all day was strong. I was relatively content here. And I wasn’t ready to face the world yet.
Then again, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready. The devastation the Collectors rained down on me had left my own personal Mount Everest in its wake. I needed to overcome countless obstacles to reach the summit, where I’d be able to move on. But I didn’t know if I had the strength or tenacity to succeed.
I’d taken the first few steps last night by going downstairs to eat dinner with Noah, Stowe, and Jem. Jameson had been conspicuously absent, but that didn’t surprise me. He was keeping a huge secret from his family, and given Noah’s ability to read the room, he would probably make himself scarce until he decided to share the information. He needed to tell them soon, because I didn’t know how long I could hold out.
Forcing myself to take the next steps on my symbolic journey, I stumbled out of bed and into the massive walk-in shower. Turning the water as hot as I could stand it, I stood under the waterfall stream and imagined all of yesterday’s sorrow washing off my body and disappearing down the drain.
I lost track of time, and when I finally shut the water off, I was left wrinkled, shivering, and angry. It seemed that once my melancholy was gone, rage was the only emotion remaining. The people who had wronged me consumed every crevice of my mind, until my mission became clear. Grace Morrow and her Collector accomplices were my primary target, and I wouldn’t rest until they paid for their ruthless actions.
But, first, I had a smaller fish to fry, one that was much closer to home. Andrea Parsons was responsible for turning me and countless other Psychs over to the Collectors. She couldn’t be allowed to walk away from this mess unscathed. I only hoped my housemates agreed; otherwise, an extended stay at the Drake estate wasn’t in the cards, after all.
After I dried my hair and got dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans and a gray shirt, paired with the plain black gloves I’d chosen the night before, I trudged downstairs in search of something to eat. Expecting the house to be empty, I was surprised to find Jameson, Noah, and Stowe sitting at the bar in the kitchen.
Their easy conversation fell away when they spotted me, and I stopped awkwardly in the doorway. “Um, hey. Sorry to interrupt. I didn’t think anyone else would be home.”
Stowe’s face lit up, and he hopped off his barstool and rounded the counter. “You’re not interrupting anything.” He picked up a plate and held it toward me. “Waffle?”
At the sight of one of my dad’s favorite foods, the sadness I could have sworn I’d eradicated in the shower rushed into me, almost knocking me over with its intensity. I clutched at my stomach and turned my head away. “No, I…I can’t.”
Damnit. Why was this so hard? I wanted, needed, to be stronger than this. How would I ever take down the Collectors if I fell apart at the mere sight of breakfast food?
“Daphne,” Stowe said softly as he approached, “what is it?”
“Nothing.” Still looking away from him and the others, I shook my head, fighting tears that I absolutely could not let fall. “It’s stupid.”
His body surrounded me in a gentle embrace. “Nothing about you is stupid. Tell me.”
I turned into him, allowing his warmth to seep into me. “My dad loves…loved waffles.” The words were muffled against his chest, but his sharp inhale let me know he’d heard them.
“I’m so sorry. Forget waffles. You never have to see another waffle again, if you don’t want to.”
I leaned back enough to look up, way up, into his now-somber face. “No, I don’t want that. I don’t want to forget.”
More waffle breakfasts with Dad than I could process flashed across my vision, making me ache in that way I was, sadly, growing accustomed to. Would I really never get to experience a lazy Saturday morning with my dad again? It didn’t feel possible.
“But, right now, remembering is too hard.”
“It’s okay.” Stowe pulled me tighter against him, his massive arms encircling me in a cocoon of safety and understanding. “I get it…we all do. How do you feel about scrambled eggs?”
“I’m a fan.”
“Good.” He kissed the top of my head before releasing me and walking to the refrigerator.
I immediately missed his closeness, which surprised me. Stowe and I had hit it off from our first meeting, and I’d been in his arms a few times since. And liked it. But to go one step further and actually miss his big body enveloping mine? It wasn’t like me.
Movement caught my attention, and I realized Noah and Jameson were no longer sitting at the bar. Noah stood over the trash can, where he’d apparently deposited the remaining waffles, while Jameson dug around in the pantry. No one spoke, but the three guys worked efficiently together to produce a new breakfast of scrambled eggs with cheese, whole wheat toast, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. Just for me. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It was nice to be taken care of…but by these three? I couldn’t quite get over the strangeness of it.
“So, what are you guys doing home?” I asked around a large bite of eggs. “Well, other than Noah, obviously.” Since he was selfemployed, I should have anticipated that I might run into him during the day. Still, I’d gotten the impression that he mostly kept to himself and the guesthouse.
“We quit.”
Jameson’s terse words echoed through the room, but he continued to load the dishwasher like he’d commented on the weather rather than dropping an A-bomb. A for Andrea, that was, because the discovery that their former guardian had been lying to them for over a decade was the only possible reason for Jameson and Stowe to quit jobs they loved. At least, I assumed Jameson loved running the yoga studio. Stowe had told me how much he enjoyed working with his personal training clients at the spa gym.
I moved my attention to Stowe, who was watching me with a placid expression. But behind the calm, his flashing eyes let me know a storm brewed underneath. I’d been so preoccupied with my own devastation, I hadn’t stopped to think about how he and the others were handling the life-altering information that Collectors had murdered their parents. And Andrea had a hand in it.
Even though it felt like months had passed since I confronted the traitor in the living room, it had only been four days. Of course, they weren’t over it. What did I expect them to do? Get up and go play happy subordinate to the woman who had helped destroy their lives?
“What about Jem?”
Jameson slammed the dishwasher door closed but didn’t turn around. His shoulders were heaving, and I could tell I’d opened a can of worms with that question.
“She’s at the spa,” Noah said in his usual soft voice.
“So, she’s just going to keep working there?”
I heard the disbelief in my own voice but didn’t care. Now that I’d taken the time to contemplate the situation, I couldn’t imagine any of them stepping one foot on Andrea’s playground for finding “talented” Psychs. What the hell was Jem thinking, continuing to
work for that bitch? I didn’t care that Andrea had been a mother figure to her for all these years. She couldn’t be trusted.
“For now, at least. She’s decided to hear Andrea out, and she doesn’t want to let down the clients who take her classes,” Stowe said.
There was some rational part of me that could probably understand that, if I let it. But I wasn’t into thinking rationally right now. “You and Jameson seem to be fine with it.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t say I agreed with her.”
“I sure as fuck don’t,” Jameson said, finally turning around to join the conversation. He looked different, and it took me a few moments to pinpoint the change. There was a pallor to his skin, like he’d been in a fight with the flu and lost. “How she can even look at that woman, I don’t know.”
Damn. He’d clearly been pissed at Andrea that day in the living room, but the way he said thatwoman combined with his menacing expression? Pissed didn’t even begin to describe it. He was livid with her on a level I didn’t even want to think about. I didn’t know him well, or at all, really. I had no idea what he’d do with that kind of anger. Could Noah and Stowe keep him in check? I honestly wasn’t sure and part of me hoped not.
“What’s the plan?”
As three sets of eyes shifted to me, I regretted my words. But I couldn’t exactly take them back now. Noah must have already been feeling my need for retribution. Hiding it wasn’t an option.
“What do you mean?” Stowe asked.
“I mean, what are you going to do about Andrea? After everything she’s done, surely you can’t be satisfied with just avoiding her. So, what’s the plan?”
Noah placed a gentle hand on my arm. “Revenge won’t fix anything.”
Revenge. As the word rolled around in my head, it twisted and contorted, eventually taking a different shape.
I’d gotten one thing right—Andrea was a small fish. I would never be able to forgive her for her part in my dad’s death. But she wasn’t directly responsible for the fire. I needed to focus on catching
the thousand-pound marlin instead of wasting my time on a measly catfish.
“I have something else in mind.”
Jameson laughed, actually laughed. “Why am I suddenly scared?”
He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest. He appeared relaxed—well, for him—and genuinely interested in what I had to say. His faintly amused expression gave me the confidence to move forward with my quickly-developing plan.
“You should be.” I smiled, knowing I probably looked a bit crazed. “I want to see Andrea.”
AFTER LEAVING JAMESON, Stowe, and Noah to contemplate my idea, I got into my SUV and drove straight to Whitehurst Antiques. Or, more specifically, what was left of it. I wasn’t certain what drew me there, but I knew I needed to see it again. To stand in the space that had been like a second home to me since I was a little girl…stand there and remember.
As I approached the boarded-up entrance, butterflies took flight in my stomach. I knew what to expect, and that was the problem. It had been beyond painful to see my mother’s legacy destroyed on Thanksgiving. But that pain seemed amplified now that our family home was gone as well. What little of her that remained was broken, shattered.
I put my key in the lock, thankful when it still worked, and forced myself to cross the threshold. The bell above the door failed to ring, and I glanced up, unsurprised to find it missing. It had probably been tossed into one of the many piles of debris that covered the floor.
With sunlight spilling in through the front windows, I didn’t bother turning on the lights as I stood there studying the chaos. Now that I was thinking more rationally, I could see that there were pieces here and there that had likely survived the attack. But those
were few and far between. The Collectors had done a damn good job of destroying almost everything in the shop.
An image of Grace grinning as she smashed a Tiffany lamp into a thousand colorful pieces came to mind, causing fire to rush through my veins. Although it was merely a product of my imagination, I had no doubt it was a solid representation of reality. Someone who would cause this kind of destruction just because I didn’t surrender had to be sadistic by nature.
As I brushed my gloved fingers over the, now busted, midcentury modern sideboard I’d recently purchased at an estate sale, it occurred to me. Maybe I didn’t have to use my imagination. Maybe the antiques could show me what happened.
I pulled one glove off and let my hand hover over the sideboard. Did I really want to see? No, but I had to try. Other than Grace and Sheila-the-succubus, who’d appeared in two of Jameson’s visions, I didn’t know who else was a part of the organization. If this was the way to uncover more information about the Collectors, so be it.
The moment my skin came into contact with the mahogany, the vision dragged me to another time and place.
My muscles tense as a woman withflowing blonde hair reaches for a stackofplates.“Istillcan’tbelieve Iletmy mom talkme into registeringforchina.It’ssooldfashioned.”
A handsome, dark-haired man appears from behind her and takes the dishes from her . “But then what would we serve our first Thanksgivingdinnertogetheron?”
“Oh,Idon’tknow.Normal,everydayplates.”
The man laughs and kisses her lightly on the lips. “But think of howhappyitwillmakeyourmothertoseeyouusingthem.”
Thewoman huffs, butthen my pulsequickens whensheshoots her husband a wicked look. “The only person I’m interested in makinghappy isyou…and I have a pretty good idea of how I can accomplishthat.”
Withoutanother word,themanpickshiswifeup andcarriesher away.
Back in the present, I moved away from the sideboard and smiled bitterly. How wonderful for the newlyweds, but that vision
didn’t help me one bit. Moving on, I touched a silver teapot, chest, and book. None of them showed me anything related to the breakin.
In fact, there was no guarantee that any of the objects in the store held memories of what I was looking for. It wasn’t exactly the type of emotional event I usually saw.
Deciding it was a pointless undertaking, I moved through the wreckage, taking it all in. But the longer I was in the shop, the more depressed I became. It was like the soul of the place had been sucked out by a demonic presence. Maybe it was silly to think of the building as a living thing, but that’s how it had always been. Just standing in this room used to make me feel calm. Secure. Loved.
Now, it felt empty.
And that’s when I knew what I had to do.
I retrieved my cell from my pocket and flipped it open to dial the number from memory.
“Adele? Is that you?” George said, answering on the first ring.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Thank god you finally called me back. If I didn’t hear from you this afternoon, I was going to book a flight for tomorrow morning.”
“No, you can’t do that.”
Though he’d agreed to extend his trip to Dallas indefinitely before he left, I’d barely convinced him not to come home for the funeral. I couldn’t allow him to change his mind now.
He sighed loudly into the phone. “Adele, you know I trust your judgment, but I think you’re making a mistake. You need me there to help you through this. Don’t push me away.”
“I am notpushing you away. I’m trying to keep you safe. Surely, you can understand that after…well, everything.”
It was still difficult for me to speak the words aloud. Voicing them made it all more real. But who was I kidding? I was literally standing knee deep in the Collectors’ handiwork. It didn’t get more real than this.
“But who is keeping you safe?”
“My safety isn’t an issue.” At least, I didn’t think so. “The, uh, bad guys want me for what I can do for them. They’re not going to
physically harm me.” Toomuch.
“That’s not particularly reassuring.”
“I know, but we’re past the point where I can reassure you. All I can do is beg you to do as I ask.”
“Okay, I give in.” He sighed again, and a small grin took over my mouth. I could just imagine his exasperated expression and slumped shoulders. “But you have to tell me how you’re doing. I’ve been worried.”
Jointheclub.
“I’m better.” That much was true. “I’m at the shop, actually.”
“Why are you there?”
“I needed to see it. And…well, I’ve come to a decision. But I want your blessing.”
“Oh?”
I spun in a slow circle, trying to remember the shop the way it used to be. But, already, I failed to picture it. There was too much damage, too much loss.
“I’m not going to reopen.”
Silence stretched over the endless miles between us, and I gritted my teeth to keep from speaking again. I needed to hear George’s honest reaction. He may have sold his half of the business to Andrea, but Whitehurst Antiques would always be as much his as it was mine.
“Okay.”
I released the breath I’d been holding, and words, too many of them, poured out of me. “I’m not saying it’s forever. But, for now, I think it’s best. And I wouldn’t reopen in this building. It would be too hard. I’d have to find someplace new. Maybe in one of those old houses down the street. That could be a nice change.”
“Adele,” George interrupted. “Stop. It’s okay. I understand.”
Damn the tears that started gathering in my eyes. “I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for—”
“I don’t. I would never think that.”
Relief flooded me. I hadn’t realized the prospect of reopening the shop had been weighing so heavily on me. As much as I loved my
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A PROLEGOMENÁK
általános kérdése:
Mikép lehetséges tiszta észből való ismeret?
5. §.
Fent láttuk az analitikai és szintetikai ítéletek közti hatalmas különbséget. Analitikai ítéletek lehetségét könnyen megérthettük, mert csakis az ellenmondás tételén alapszik. A posteriori szintetikai ítéletek lehetsége, t. i. azoké, melyeket a tapasztalatból merítünk, ugyancsak nem szorúl külön magyarázatra; mert a tapasztalat maga nem egyéb, mint észrevételek folytonos összetétele (synthesis). Tehát csak a priori szintetikai ítéletek lehetségét kell keresnünk vagy kutatnunk, mert ezek lehetsége szükségkép egyéb elveken alapszik, mint az ellenmondás tételén.
De itt nem kell előbb ily tételek l e h e t s é g é t kutatnunk, azaz kérdeznünk, vajjon lehetségesek-e? Mert elég ily tételünk van, még pedig kétségtelen bizonyossággal adva, s minthogy itt analitikai módszer szerint járunk el, ennélfogva abból indulunk ki, hogy efféle szintetikai, de tiszta észismeret valódi; de azután mégis k u t a t n u n k kell e lehetség okát s kérdeznünk, m i k é p
lehetséges ez ismeret avégből, hogy lehetsége alapelveiből használatának föltételeit, ennek körét s határait megállapíthassuk. A voltaképi, iskolaszerű szabatossággal kifejezett kérdés tehát, melytől minden függ, ez:
M i k é p l e h e t s é g e s e k s z i n t e t i k a i a priori t é t e l e k ?
Fentebb, népszerűség kedvéért, kissé máskép fejeztem ki a kérdést, t. i. mikép lehetséges tiszta észből való ismeret; bátran tehettem, mert minthogy itt pusztán a metafizika és forrásai forognak kérdésben, az előbbiek után reméllem, mindenki emlékezni fog rá, hogy ha tiszta észből való ismeretről beszélünk, soha az analitikairól, hanem csakis metafizikairól van szó.8)
E kérdés megoldásától függ a metafizika egész léte: élete vagy halála. Ha valaki még oly tetszetősen adja benne elő állításait; ha következtetést következtetésre zsúfolva halmoz: míg előbb ama kérdésre nem tudott kielégítően felelni, jogomban áll mondani: mind hiába való haszontalan bölcselkedés s hamis bölcsesség. Tiszta ész alapján beszélsz, s nem csak adott fogalmakat taglalván, hanem új kapcsolatokat alkotván, melyek nem az ellenmondás tételén alapszanak s melyeket mégis minden tapasztalattól teljesen függetleneknek vélsz átláthatni, számot tartasz arra, hogy a priori ismereteket mintegy teremtesz; hogyan jutottál ehhez, hogyan fogod e követelőzéseidet igazolni? Az általános emberi ész megegyezésére nem szabad hivatkoznod; mert e tanú tekintélye csak közönséges mende-mondán alapszik.
Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi.
H
De a mily mellőzhetetlen a felelet erre a kérdésre, oly nehéz is egyszersmind; s habár a főok, hogy miért nem iparkodtak már régen megfelelni rá, abban van, hogy még csak eszébe sem jutott senkinek, hogy ilyesfélét kérdezni lehessen; mégis egy második ok az, hogy ez egy kérdés kielégítő megoldása sokkal tartósabb, mélyebb s fárasztóbb gondolkodást követel, mint valaha a
legterjedelmesebb metafizikai munka, mely első megjelenése alkalmával halhatatlanságot igért szerzőjének. Minden józan olvasó, ha e föladat követelményeit gondosan megfontolja, nehézségétől megrettenve, eleinte megoldhatatlannak kell hogy gondolja, s ha ily tiszta szintetikai a priori ismeretek tényleg nem léteznének, tisztán lehetetlennek vélje, ami D H -on tényleg megesett, habár ő a kérdést távolról sem állította maga elé oly általánosságban, mint mi állítottuk s kellett is állítanunk, ha azt akarjuk, hogy a felelet az egész metafizikára döntő legyen. Mert mikép lehetséges – mondá amaz éleselmű ember – hogy ha valamely fogalom adva van, én e fogalom körét átléphessem és vele egy más fogalmat összekapcsolhassak, mely amabban épen nem foglaltatik, még pedig olykép, mintha emez s z ü k s é g k é p tartoznék amahhoz? Csak tapasztalat szolgáltathat nekünk ily kapcsolatokat (ezt következteté ő abból a nehézségből, melyet lehetetlenségnek tartott) s ama vélt szükségesség, vagy, ami egyre megy, az annak tartott a priori ismeret nem egyéb, mint hogy megszoktunk valamit igaznak tartani s azért a szubjektiv szükségességet objektivnek vélni.
Ha az olvasó panaszkodik, hogy e feladat megoldásával sok bajt és fáradságot szerzek neki, próbálja meg s oldja meg maga könnyebb módon. Talán akkor majd lekötelezve érzi magát annak, ki ily mély kutatás munkáját ő helyette magára vállalta s inkább még némikép csodálkozik azon a könnyűségen, mely a dolog mivoltához képest a megoldásnak adatott; éveken át tartó fáradságba is került, míg a feladatot egész általánosságban, abban az értelemben, melyben a mathematikusok élnek e szóval, t. i. minden esetre kiterjeszkedve, meg lehetett oldani s végre analitikai alakban is, mint itt történt, előadni.
Mind a metafizikusok tehát ünnepélyesen föl vannak függesztve munkájuktól, míg erre a kérdésre:
M i k é p l e h e t s é g e s e k s z i n t e t i k a i a priori i s m e r e t e k ?
kielégítően meg nem feleltek. Mert csak ez a felelet adja meg nekik azt a kreditivát, melyet föl kell mutatniok, ha a tiszta ész nevében valamit közölni akarnak velünk; ha ezzel nem rendelkeznek, el kell
készülve lenniök rá, hogy a józan emberek, kiket már annyiszor megcsaltak, közleményük minden további vizsgálata nélkül el fogják utasítani őket.
De ha nem mint t u d o m á n y t , hanem mint üdvös és az általános emberi értelemhez alkalmazkodó rábeszélések m e s t e r s é g é t akarják dolgukat folytatni, ez iparukban senki méltányosan meg nem akaszthatja őket. Észszerű hit szerény nyelvével fognak azután élni; be fogják vallani, hogy arról, ami minden lehetséges tapasztalat határain túl van, nem hogy t u d n á n a k valamit, de még s e j t e l m ü k sem lehet, s hogy (nem spekulativ használatra, mert erről le kell mondaniok, hanem pusztán gyakorlati célból) csak f e l t e s z n e k valamit, ami az értelem és akarat vezetéséhez az életben lehetséges, sőt mellőzhetetlen. Csak így viselhetik majd hasznos és bölcs emberek nevét, még pedig annál nagyobb mértékben, mennél inkább lemondanak a metafizikusokéról, mert ezek spekulativ filozofusok akarnak lenni; s minthogy ha a priori ítéletekről van szó, nem érhetjük be üres valószínűségekkel (mert amit állítólag a priori ismerünk meg, azt ép ezzel szükségesnek hirdetjük), azért nem engedhetjük meg nekik, hogy sejtésekkel játszadozzanak; állításuknak tudománynak kell lennie, különben egyáltalán semmi.
Mondhatni, hogy az egész transscendentalis filozófia, mely a metafizikát szükségkép megelőzi, ma nem egyéb, mint csakis az itt föladott kérdésnek rendszeres és kimerítő, teljes megoldása, hogy tehát eleddig transscendentalis filozófia nincsen. Mert ami ennek nevét viseli, tulajdonkép a metafizikának egy része; de ama tudománynak előbb ez utóbbinak a lehetségét kell megállapítania, tehát meg kell előznie minden metafizikát. Nem is szabad tehát csodálkoznunk rajta, hogy egy egész tudomány, még pedig más tudományoktól vett segítség nélkül, tehát egészen új tudomány szükséges ahhoz, hogy csak egyetlen egy kérdésre kielégítően feleljünk; ha e megoldás bajjal, fáradsággal, sőt némi homályossággal jár is.
Midőn most e megoldáshoz fogunk, még pedig analitikai módszer alapján, föltételezvén, hogy ily tiszta észből való ismeretek
valósággal vannak, az elméleti ismeretnek (mint amelyről itt egyedül szó van) csak két t u d o m á n y á r a hivatkozhatunk, t. i. a tiszta m a t h e m a t i k á r a s tiszta t e r m é s z e t t u d o m á n y r a , mert csak ezek tüntethetik föl a tárgyakat szemléletben, tehát ha bennük netalán a priori ismeretekre akadnánk, ezek igazságát vagy a tárggyal való megegyezésüket in concreto, azaz v a l ó s á g u k a t mutathatnók meg; amiből aztán lehetségük alapjához analitikai úton haladhatnánk. Ez nagyon megkönnyíti a munkát, melyben az általános elmélkedések nem csak alkalmaztatnak tényekre, hanem sőt belőlük indulnak, míg a szintetikai eljárásban egészen in abstracto, fogalmakból kellene őket leszármaztatnunk.
De hogy e valódi s egyszersmind alappal biró tiszta a priori ismeretekből ahhoz, amit keresünk, t. i. a metafizikához mint tudományhoz fölemelkedhessünk, bele kell foglalnunk főkérdésünkbe azt, ami bennünk e metafizikát megindítja, ami mint természetesen adott, de igazságát illetőleg nem gyanútlan a priori ismeret neki alapúl szolgál, és amelynek ez ismeretek lehetőségét kritikailag nem vizsgáló földolgozását már rendesen metafizikának neveznek: egy szóval az e tudományhoz való természeti hajlandóságunkat; e szerint a transscendentális főkérdésre, négy más kérdésre osztva kell sorban feleletet adnunk.
1. Mikép lehetséges tiszta mathematika?
2. Mikép lehetséges tiszta természettudomány?
3. Mikép lehetséges metafizika egyáltalán?
4. Mikép lehetséges metafizika mint tudomány?
Látni való, hogy habár e föladatok megoldása főkép a Kritika lényeges tartalmát fogja föltüntetni, mégis van benne sajátos is, ami magában is figyelemre méltó, t. i. adott tudományokhoz a forrásokat magában az észben keressük, hogy ezen az uton azt a tehetséget, melynél fogva ez az ész valamit a priori megismer, maga által a tény által megvizsgáljuk és kimérjük. Ez által maguk e tudományok is, habár nem tartalmukat, de helyes használatukat illetőleg előbbre
jutnak s midőn közös eredetük felsőbb kérdését deritjük föl, saját mivoltukra is nagyobb világosság árad.
A TRANSSCENDENTALIS FŐKÉRDÉS
ELSŐ RÉSZE.
Mikép lehetséges tiszta mathematika?
6. §.
Íme egy nagy s kipróbált ismeret, mely már most is bámulatos terjedelmű s határtalan kiterjedést igér a jövőben; mely minden izében apodiktikusan bizonyos, azaz föltétlenül szükséges, tehát nem alapszik tapasztalati okokon, ennélfogva tiszta szüleménye az észnek, de azonfölül minden izében szintetikai. «Hogyan képes az emberi ész ily ismeretet egészen a priori hozni létre?» Minthogy nem alapúl s nem alapúlhat tapasztalatokon, nem tételez-e föl e képesség valamely a priori ismeretalapot, mely mélyen rejtőzik, de ha csak első csiráit szorgalmasan kutatjuk, e hatásaiból talán mégis megismerhető?
7. §.
Azt találjuk, hogy minden mathematikai ismeretben az a sajátos, hogy fogalmát előbb a s z e m l é l e t b e n , még pedig a priori, tehát nem empirikus, hanem tiszta szemléletben kell föltüntetnie, ami
nélkül egy lépést sem tehet előre; ítéletei ezért intuitivak, míg a filozofiának p u s z t a f o g a l m a k b ó l vont diskurziv ítéletekkel kell beérnie s apodiktikus tanait a szemlélet segitségével megvilágosíthatja ugyan, de le belőle nem vonhatja. A mathematika mivoltának e megfigyelése már is elvezet lehetségének első s legfelső föltételéhez: v a l a m e l y t i s z t a s z e m l é l e t kell hogy alapúl szolgáljon neki, melyben minden fogalmát in concreto s mégis a priori tüntetheti föl, vagy amint mondani szokás, m e g s z e r k e s z t h e t i 9) Ha e tiszta szemléletet s ennek lehetségét megtalálhatjuk, akkor könnyen magyarázható belőle, mikép lehetségesek a priori szintetikai tételek a mathematikában, tehát az is, mikép lehetséges maga e tudomány. Mert valamint a tapasztalati szemlélet minden nehézség nélkül lehetővé teszi, hogy a szemlélet valamely tárgyáról alkotott fogalmunkat oly állítmányokkal, melyeket maga a szemlélet szolgáltat, a tapasztalatban szintetikailag kibővíthessük, azonkép a tiszta szemlélet is lehetővé teszi ezt, csak azzal a különbséggel, hogy az utóbbi esetben a szintetikai ítélet a priori bizonyos s apodiktikus lesz, az előbbi esetben pedig csak a posteriori s tapasztalatilag bizonyos; mert emebben csak az foglaltatik, ami a véletlen tapasztalati szemléletben, amabban pedig, ami a tiszta szemléletben szükségkép találtatik; mert mint a priori szemlélet m i n d e n t a p a s z t a l a t vagy egyes észrevevés előtt van elválaszthatatlanúl összekötve a fogalommal.
8. §.
De a nehézség ezzel úgy látszik inkább nő, mint csökken. Mert most az a kérdés: M i k é p l e h e t v a l a m i t a priori s z e m l é l n i ? Szemlélet oly képzet, mely mintha közvetetlenül függne a tárgy jelenlététől. Lehetetlennek látszik ennélfogva, a priori e r e d e t i l e g szemlélni, mert akkor a szemlélet előbb jelen volt vagy most jelen levő tárgy nélkül való volna, tehát szemlélet sem lehetne. Fogalmak oly természetűek ugyan, hogy némelyeket, t. i.
azokat, melyekkel csak a tárgyat általában gondoljuk, a priori alkothatunk, anélkül, hogy a tárgyhoz közvetetlen viszonyban volnánk, pl. a mennyiség, ok stb. fogalma; de még ezek is, hogy értelmet s jelentést nyerjenek, rászorúlnak arra, hogy in concreto használjuk, azaz valamely szemléletre alkalmazzuk, mely által nekünk ennek tárgya adatik. De mikép előzheti meg a tárgy s z e m l é l e t e magát a tárgyat?
9. §.
Ha szemléletünknek oly fajtájúnak kellene lennie, hogy dolgokat úgy állít maga elé, a m i n t m a g u k b a n v a n n a k , akkor a priori szemlélet lehetetlen volna, akkor minden szemlélet empirikus volna. Mert hogy mi foglaltatik magában a tárgyban, csak úgy tudhatom, ha jelen s adva van előttem. Igaz, hogy akkor is megfoghatatlan, mikép ismertetheti meg velem valamely jelenlevő dolog szemlélete magát a dolgot, amint magában van, minthogy tulajdonságai nem szállhatnak át az én értelmembe; de ha ezt mégis lehetségesnek gondoljuk, az efféle szemlélet még sem lehetne a priori, azaz mielőtt a tárgyat szemlélem; mert enélkül nem található ki, min alapúlna képzetünknek a tárgyra való vonatkozása, hacsak nem sugallaton. Azért csak egy mód van, mikép előzheti meg szemléletem a valóságos tárgyat, s lehet a priori ismeret, h a u g y a n i s n e m f o g l a l m a g á b a n e g y e b e t , m i n t a z é r z é k i s é g f o r m á j á t , m e l y é n e m b e n m i n d e n v a l ó b e n y o m á s t , m e l y l y e l t á r g y a k e n g e m i l l e t n e k , m e g e l ő z . Mert hogy érzékek tárgyai csak az érzékiség e formája szerint szemlélhetők, azt a priori tudhatom. Ebből következik, hogy tételek, melyek az érzéki szemléletnek csak e formájára vonatkoznak, az érzékek tárgyaira vonatkozólag lehetségesek s érvényesek lesznek; hasonlókép megfordítva: szemléletek, melyek a priori lehetségesek, soha egyébre, mint érzékeink tárgyaira, nem vonatkozhatnak.
§.
Csak az érzéki szemlélet formája által szemlélhetünk tehát dolgokat a priori, de ennek következtében a tárgyakat csak úgy ismerhetjük meg, amint nekünk (érzékeinknek) m e g j e l e n h e t n e k , nem amint magukban vannak; és e föltevés okvetetlenül szükséges, hogy szintetikai a priori tételeket lehetségeseknek ismerjünk el, vagy ha tényleg rájuk akadunk, lehetségüket megértsük s eleve megállapítsuk.
De tér s idő azok a szemléletek, melyeket a tiszta mathematika minden apodiktikus és szükséges ismeretének s ítéletének alapúl vet; mert a mathematikának minden fogalmát előbb a szemléletben, a tiszta mathematikának pedig a tiszta szemléletben kell feltüntetnie, azaz megszerkesztenie, ami nélkül (minthogy nem analitikailag, t. i. a fogalmak taglalása útján, hanem csak szintetikailag járhat el) nem tehet egy lépést sem, mert hiányzik a tiszta szemlélet, melyben egyedűl a szintetikai a priori itéletekhez való anyag adva van. A geometria a tér tiszta szemléletét veti alapúl. Az arithematika még számfogalmait is az egységeknek sorban való hozzáadásával az időben hozza létre, de főkép a tiszta mechanika a mozgásról való fogalmait csak az idő képzete segítségével hozhatja létre. Mindkét képzet azonban pusztán szemlélet; mert ha a testek s ezek változásainak (mozgás) empirikus szemléletéből minden empirikus elemet t. i. ami az érzékletre tartozik, elhagyunk: megmarad a tér s idő, amelyek tehát tiszta szemléletek; ezek amazoknak a priori szolgálnak alapúl, s azért maguk nem hagyhatók el soha; de épen azzal, hogy tiszta a priori szemléletek, azt bizonyítják, hogy érzékiségünknek puszta formái, melyeknek minden tapasztalati szemléletet, azaz valódi dolgok észrevevését meg kell előzniök, s melyek szerint tárgyak a priori megismerhetők, de persze csak amint nekünk megjelennek. 11. §.
A jelen szakasz feladata tehát meg van oldva. Tiszta mathematika mint szintetikai a priori ismeret csak úgy lehetséges, hogy nem vonatkozik egyébre, mint az érzékek tárgyaira, melyek tapasztalati szemléletének tiszta szemlélet (a tér és időé) még pedig a priori szolgál alapúl, s azért szolgálhat alapúl, mert e tiszta szemlélet nem egyéb, mint az érzékiség puszta formája, mely a tárgyak valódi megjelenését megelőzi, valósággal lehetővé tevén ezt. De ez a priori szemlélés lehetsége a jelenségnek nem anyagára vonatkozik, t. i. arra, ami benne érzéklet, mert ez tapasztalati benne, hanem csak formájára, térre meg időre. Ha valaki csak legkevésbbé is kételkednék benne, hogy mindkettő nem maguknak a dolgoknak határozmánya, hanem a dolgoknak az érzékiséghez való viszonyáé, szeretném tudni, mikép tudhatjuk a priori, tehát a dolgokkal való ismeretségünk előtt, t. i. mielőtt ezek adva volnának, hogy szemléletüknek milyen mivoltúnak kell lennie, amint ezt a térre s időre vonatkozólag valóban tudjuk. Ellenben ez igen is érthető, ha mindkettőt csak érzékiségünk formai föltételének, a tárgyakat pedig csak jelenségeknek tartjuk, mert akkor a jelenség formáját, azaz a tiszta szemléletet igenis magunkból, azaz a priori képzelhetjük.
12. §.
A dolgot megvilágítja s megerősíti, ha a geometerek rendes s okvetlen szükséges eljárását tekintjük. Két adott alak teljes hasonlóságáról (amidőn az egyik minden tekintetben a másik helyére tehető) szóló minden bizonyítás végre is azon alapszik, hogy a kettő egymást födi, ami nyilván nem egyéb, mint közvetetlen szemléleten alapuló szintetikai tétel; s e szemléletnek tisztának s a priori adottnak kell lennie, különben ama tételt nem tarthatnók apodiktikusan bizonyosnak, csak tapasztalati bizonyosságú volna. Azt mondanók: így látni ezt mindig, s csak eddigi észleletünk határain belül érvényes. Az a tétel, hogy a teljes tér (mely maga nem határa többé valamely más térnek) három kiterjedésű, s tér egyáltalán nem is lehet több kiterjedésű, azon a tételen alapszik,
hogy egy pontban csak három vonal metszheti egymást derékszög alatt; ez a tétel azonban nem is bizonyítható fogalmakból, hanem közvetetlenül szemléleten alapúl, még pedig tiszta a priori szemléleten, mert apodiktikusan bizonyos; az efféle követelések lehetősége is: egy vonal a végtelenig (in infinitum) húzandó, vagy a változásoknak sora (pl. mozgás által megjárt útak) végtelenbe folytatandó, a tér meg idő oly képzetét tételezi föl, mely pusztán a szemlélettől függ, t. i. amennyiben magában nem határolja semmi; fogalmakból soha sem következtethetnők. A mathematikának tehát valóban tiszta a priori szemléletek szolgálnak alapúl, amelyek annak szintetikai s apodiktikailag érvényes tételeit lehetővé teszik; transscendentalis dedukciónk a tér meg időbeli fogalmainkról tehát egyszersmind a tiszta mathematika lehetőségét magyarázza, amelyet ily dedukció nélkül, s anélkűl, hogy föltételeznők, hogy «mindazt, ami érzékeinknek adathatik (a külsőknek a térben, a belsőknek az időben) csak amint megjelenik, nem amint magában van, szemléljük», megengedhetünk ugyan, de semmiképen át nem láthatunk.
13.
§.
Akik még nem tudnak attól a felfogástól szabadulni, hogy tér meg idő valódi tulajdonságok, melyek magukhoz a dolgokhoz tartoznak, éleselműségüket a következő paradoxonon gyakorolhatják s ha hiába fáradoztak megoldásán, legalább néhány pillanatra előitéletektől menten gyaníthatják, hogy a tér meg időnek érzéki szemléletünk puszta formáivá való sülyesztése talán mégis alapos.
Ha két dolog minden tekintetben, mely mindeniken külön egyáltalán megismerhető (minden a mennyiséghez s minőséghez tartozó határozmányban) azonegy, abból azt kell következtetnünk, hogy az egyik minden esetben s tekintetben a másik helyére tehető, anélkül, hogy e csere a legkisebb fölismerhető különbséget okozná. Ez így is van a sík alakokkal a geometriában; de különböző szferikus alakok ama teljes belső megegyezés ellenére külső viszonyukban
mégis annyira különbözők, hogy az egyik épenséggel nem tehető a másik helyére; pl. két gömbháromszög a két félgömbön, melynek közös alapja az æquatornak egy íve, teljesen egyenlő lehet, mind vonalaiban, mind szögeiben, úgy hogy ha az egyiket külön s teljesen leírom, semmit sem találhatok benne, ami nem volna meg a másiknak leírásában, s az egyik még sem tehető a másik helyére (t. i. az ellenkező félgömbre); itt tehát mégis oly b e l s ő különbség van a két háromszög között, melyet semmiféle értelem belsőlegesnek nem mondhat s amely csak a térbeli külső viszonyban nyilvánúl. De közönségesebb eseteket akarok felhozni, melyek a mindennapi életből vehetők.
Mi lehet hasonlóbb kezemhez vagy fülemhez s vele minden tekintetben egyenlőbb, mint képe a tükörben? S még sem tehetem azt a kezet, melyet a tükörben látok, az eredetinek a helyébe; mert ha ez jobb kéz volt, az a tükörben balkéz, a jobb fül képe bal fül, mely amannak a helyére nem tehető. Itt semmiféle, értelemmel kigondolható belső különbség nincs; mégis a különbség, amennyire érzékeim tanuskodnak róla, belsőleges, mert a bal kéz a jobbal minden kölcsönös egyenlősége s hasonlósága mellett sem foglalható ugyanazon határok közé (nem kongruálhatnak), az egyik kézre való keztyűt nem húzhatom föl a másikra. Mi itt a megoldás? E tárgyak nem képzetek a dolgokról, amint magukban vannak, s amint a tiszta ész megismerhetné, hanem érzéki szemléletek, azaz jelenségek, melyeknek lehetsége bizonyos magukban ismeretlen dolgoknak máshoz, t. i. érzékiségünkhöz való viszonyán alapszik. Ez érzékiségben már most a tér a külső szemlélet formája, s minden tér belső meghatározása csak az által lehetséges, hogy külső viszonyát az egész térhez, melynek amaz csak egyik része, megállapítjuk; más szavakkal, a rész csak az egész által lehetséges, ami maguknál a dolgoknál, mint a puszta értelem tárgyainál sohasem fordúlhat elő, de puszta jelenségeknél igenis előfordúlhat. Hasonló s egyenlő, de mégis inkongruens dolgoknak (pl. ellenkező értelemben kanyarodó csigáknak) különbségét azért nem is magyarázhatjuk meg semmiféle fogalommal, csak a jobb és balkézhez való viszonyukkal, ami közvetetlenül a szemlélet dolga.
