Julian shook his head and started wrapping his knuckles against the glass. He licked his lips, looking like a caged beast, trying to figure out how to break free from his constraints. “I...I seem to recall that you have trouble keeping a hold of your personal things. And you think that this place will hold me any better? You think you're going to keep me here?”
“I do,” Purdue said. “This isn't just a panic room in my basement this time. If you have any friends out there that will try to set you free, they're going to have a far tougher time taking my things than you did. For all of the trouble you caused me, I did learn from that particular defeat. And this time...I have all of the many resources of the Order of the Black Sun at my disposal.”
Julian's usual smug visage was peeling away. The demon beneath that facade was rearing its ugly head like it always did when he wasn't in control.
“No,” Julian growled. “What are you babbling about? You don't have the Black Sun.”
“I do, actually.” All of your loyalists ran from that temple. They haven't shown themselves since. Even Galen went scurrying away like the rat bastard he is. No one is going to even try to rescue you or try to put you back on the throne. No one is going to try to reinstate you as the leader of the order.”
Julian tapped the glass harder.
“It seems you should have picked better friends, aye? It turns out that there were quite a few in the Black Sun that didn't want to follow you but were afraid that you would do to them what you did to the old ruling council. From what I hear, you butchered them during a board meeting.”
A demented flash of nostalgia crossed Julian's face but then slipped away, overtaken by his growing frustration with his current situation.
“Fear is an effective tool, I'll give you that one but it's useless once the threat has been removed. We both know you were never the right person to lead the Order of the Black Sun.”
“But you are?” Julian cackled, his hand screeching across the glass. “You have done nothing but go against the order! You don't even want it!”
“You're right. Aye. I don't want it. I never have. If I had it my way, the Order of the Black Sun would be dismantled and buried forever. But someone needs to steer this shit secret society into the right direction...if it has to be me, then so be it. I'll do a hell of a lot better than you did. I can guarantee that much. It won't be hard at all.”
Julian looked around and his gaze filled with recollection.
“Aye,” Purdue said with a smirk. He'd been waiting for Julian to notice and realize just where he was. “You recognize it. Like I said, this isn't my basement this time. That cellar probably isn't even there anymore after what you did. This is so much better. You're in the Order of the Black Sun's vaults. Elijah Dane helped set this up. The way I see it...you took my home, so it's only fair that I take yours.”
Julian's taps against the glass turned into violent smacks, trying desperately to smash through his cell. “I'll kill you for this.”
Purdue raised his arms expectantly. “You're welcome to try but you haven't had the best luck so far and it will only be harder to do from in there.”
“I'll get out,” Julian hissed. “One way or another.”
“Maybe eventually...but it won't be today. Thanks to the Spear of Destiny, you've got plenty of time to try. Immortality is brilliant and all...until you're stuck some place you don't want to be. Eternity can feel like a very, very long time. Hell...I'd say it is quite a long time, wouldn't you?”
Julian bored his teeth like a caged lion, now smashing his fists against the glass over and over. His strikes continued to have no effect on the glass box he was trapped in but he kept trying anyway, to no avail. Those icy gray eyes of his looked like they were melting from the furious fire behind them. He roared and kept punching the glass but it was futile, no matter how hard he hit it. His knuckles tore and grew bloody but the everlasting power in his body mended them second later. He could keep trying to centuries to come. Julian Corvus was truly trapped and now he was accepting it. That demon was finally stuck in a box, removed from the outside world.
Purdue watched his nemesis struggle for a few minutes. It was undeniably satisfying and even a little cathartic. When he turned, Julian's shouts of rage just grew louder. “You will die for this, Purdue! Do you hear me!? You will die for this! You will! The Order of the Black Sun will not stand for this!”
Purdue turned back but only enough to see Julian. “Don't worry. The Order of the Black Sun will be better than ever. Funny how things turn out, aye?”
When he left the Black Sun vaults, the enormous door closed behind Purdue. He heard its many locks seal with in it. No one would be getting in or out of there that wasn't supposed to. His latest acquisition was safe and sound inside, and wouldn't be disturbed—and it would never have the chance to disturb the rest of the world ever again.
Nina and Sam stood there waiting for him. Nina glanced at the vault door with some pride. “How is he doing in there?”
“Not great,” Purdue said. “But I'm sure he'll get used to it...he'll have to.”
“If it was anyone else, I might question it...” Sam said bluntly. “But that bastard deserves every second of it.”
“Yes, he most certainly does,” Nina said. “So what's next?”
Purdue had some ideas about that. “We use all of this to actually help the world. This isn't about trophies or anything like that...as much as I love those. We could really make a difference here. The Order of the Black Sun could actually be a good thing now.”
“I think we should change the name,” Sam said. “Just saying...it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It makes me feel like I'm about to be kidnapped, shot at, or just annoyed. All my paranoia starts nagging at me when we say it.”
“We should keep it the same,” Nina argued. “We shouldn't forget how horrible it was. The order has been a stain on history and everything we're trying to preserve. We shouldn't try and rewrite what happened. We should make it have a better place in history in the long run, redefine what this organization even is.”
“Agreed,” Purdue said. I love the idea that the Order of the Black Sun could help the world.”
They walked out of the building and Purdue looked up at the bright blue sky. Fluffy clouds danced across it. It was a strikingly beautiful day, like the universe itself was congratulating them on their victory.
The yellow sun above them seemed brighter than it had in a long time.
20
CHAPTER TWENTY – THE BUTLER'S LAST WISH
Purdue hadn't been back to his old estate since the night it burned to the ground. He had nearly died in there, cooked alive inside. So much had happened since that night. He had wandered around with not a coin to his name, having to rummage for scraps in the street. He had to make deals with modern day pirates in search of centuries old gold, waiting for a mutiny to take place at any moment. He had dived to the deepest and darkest depths of the ocean, and had used the power of the ocean itself to help dodge torpedoes on his way back up to the surface. He had to overcome a cursed sword that he could never lose track of or risk dying from a sudden heart attack. All the while, Julian Corvus and the Order of the Black Sun was moving forward with their plans.
It felt so long ago, but at the same time, it felt like it had only been five minutes since he was last inside. He could still picture how it once was so vividly, each and every room in the enormous house. He remembered the wallpaper, the carpets, and the little decorations strewn about the entire mansion.
He had spent so much time in all of the rooms. He slept in the gigantic bed every night, and had eaten thousands of the meals prepared by Charles that were all perfectly placed on the dining room table.
As Purdue drove back toward his decimated home, he had Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea in the passenger’s seat. He was reminded of all of the many car rides Charles had given him over the years. In those moments just moving down the road, the conversations ranged from boring, to fascina
ting, and sometimes they were even insightful.
Purdue pulled up to the long driveway that led up to the property and parked. He would rather have a nice stroll up the drive. He brought the novel along with him, tucking under his arm as he walked. As he approached, he could see the house but his mind must have been playing tricks—it didn't look damaged at all.
It looked just as he imagined it in his memories and not at all like the pile of ashes and rubble he was expecting to see. He kept walking closer and the house still looked just as pristine as it always had. He expected his strange hallucination to dissipate at any moment, for his mind to snap back into reality—but the house continued to look exactly the same even as he stood right at the large front doors.
Purdue put his hand on the door and half-expected that his fingers would move seamlessly right through it like some sort of hologram. His mind was rearing with all kinds of possible explanations for what he was seeing and even feeling. There shouldn't have been nearly this much of his home left. There weren't even scorch marks from the inferno. The last time he'd seen the house, it was up in flames, a burning blaze against the darkness of the night sky.
Even in the time between, there was no way someone had already cleaned it up and then brought the house back into good condition. Even if they had, there was no way it could be so identical to how it used to be so quickly, and there would at least be some kind of visible damage from the fire. At the very least.
But there was nothing. Everything outside looked perfect.
He had to check inside. Surely there would be some evidence of the fire there, since that was where it originated from. He could still picture the halls engulfed in blankets of flames as Sasha led Purdue out of the hellfire as he was wheezing from smoke inhalation. That hadn't been any kind of trick. He'd felt the fire's heat—almost been melted by it.
Purdue cautiously opened up the front doors to the estate and stepped inside. It was exactly how he left it. Nothing was out of place. Even his books on various international architecture on the coffee table were in the exact right position as he would have expected. The shelves in his study were filled with the hundreds of books he bought over the years, not a single one missing or out of place. Those books all should have been easy prey for the fire that consumed the house—but apparently hadn't actually consumed it.
He was dumbstruck by it all. None of it made any sense for it all to still be there. He ran his fingertips along the walls and couldn't believe that he was able to touch the house that had been destroyed. Everything was exactly as it should be.
Purdue went from room to room, not skipping a single one as he made his way through the house. There were dozens of rooms to check but he made sure he inspected each one thoroughly and not a single one let him down. They all were precisely as they should be, as he still remembered them in his mind.
The house that the Order of the Black Sun stole from him was restored, like it had never been destroyed it all—but it had. That's what was baffling about the whole situation. That house should have at the very least had scorch marks all throughout it. But that was a serious fire that night that he remembered seeing tear down some of the roof and walls.
There should have been much more damage than there was.
Purdue took a seat in the comfiest chair; it rested beside the fireplace and was where Charles often spent some quiet time when he hadn't been running all over the place for his boss. It felt strange to be sitting in it, especially with Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea in his hands. He could practically feel the spirit of Charles working through him.
That's when it occurred to him—as he sat there in Charles' seat by the fire with Charles' book in his grasp.
This was what Charles wanted.
As much as Purdue appreciated the role Charles played in stopping Julian Corvus and saving him, he knew the man well enough to know that he wouldn't usually have chosen to dive headfirst into battle. Charles would have definitely preferred a quiet night where he could read his book in peace.
He thought back to Charles' body on the altar and the book and wine beside him after the sacrifice had been performed. All Charles wanted was to be at home, reading his book, and sipping on his drink by the fireplace. He was a simple man sometimes with unexciting ambitions but he was loyal and responsible to a fault some times. He just needed a break here and there.
But he hardly ever did.
His wish was to be able to enjoy a quiet moment in his home reading his favorite book. That wish would have been impossible to grant with the house burned to the ground. Without probably even realizing it, Charles' dying wish had reconstructed the old estate to its former glory. This was just another part of his wish, and it had been fulfilled. Sure, Charles wouldn't be able to read by the fireplace again but Purdue still could and that was exactly what he intended to do.
Purdue knew he could always count on his late butler. Even in death, Charles was still surprising Purdue and helping provide for him. The house that had been set ablaze and destroyed had returned and Purdue felt at home again. Charles always used to make sure that Purdue was comfortable in his surroundings, and was still making sure that he was at ease.
Charles truly was a good friend, and a master butler.
There would be no way to replace him, even with the entire Order of the Black Sun now at his beck and call. Purdue got comfy and sat back in his seat. He opened to the first page of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, turning a page that Charles had turned literally thousands and thousands of times during his own many readings of that book. Purdue started at the very first page and began his research. The first page struck him immediately:
The year 1866 was signalized by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and inexplicable phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten.
Now Purdue could just take a breath and enjoy someone else's adventures of discovery.
It was what Charles would have wanted.
Now that he had the Order of the Black Sun on his side rather than as an enemy, the path ahead was impossible to predict. Even Mama May and all of her psychic wisdom probably would have struggled with seeing it.
But like Captain Nemo, David Purdue loved diving headfirst into the unknown.
EPILOGUE – THE ROCKING CHAIR
The rocking chair creaked and that creak moved its way through the peculiar house. It was a non-verbal message to the others in the house and a reminder about who was in charge. No matter where someone was in the house, the noises she usually made always found the proper ears that she wanted to hear what she had to say.
Her house was an odd one, especially compared to most others' her age. It was filled with historical trinkets that most people wouldn't even bother with. There was silverware from a shipwreck and even weaponry from a bygone era. A long barrel of a destroyed tank hung from her wall, protruding out toward another office, but a temporary fix.
“Have you heard the whispers?”
Of course she had heard the whispers. That was all she ever seemed to hear. Most people were too afraid to speak at a normal volume around her, not wanting to concern an old bird like her with anything that she might not like. The truth was, it took a lot to upset her. It wasn't that she was frail and her body wasn't capable of getting energetic anymore, it was that there was very little in the world that actually surprised her anymore. Nearly ten decades was enough to make anyone jaded.
Her life was a long story but just a small footnote on the story of the world as a whole. Personal history was always so minute in comparison. Everyone always said that she was so wise and knew so much but the truth was that it had nothing to do with her first hand experiences. Most of her knowledge came from study. She had spent her decades pouring over every aspect of history, every little detail of every little event. Even when sitting in a room with the world's top historians, she could tell them things that they could never have hoped to remember.
“The Order of the Black Sun has changed management yet again,” she sa
id softly, mostly to herself. “Yes, I have heard those whispers. That violent little upstart did not last too long at all then, did he? Shameful. He made such a mess with everything and it was not even worth it in the end. I would have commended him if his plans came to fruition, as much as I disdain that pretentious club of theirs.”
“And you have heard who has taken charge?”
Oddly, those whispers had never reached her ears. That was a rarity but she did love when it happened. It opened up the possibility that she would actually be surprised, but even then, she hardly ever was.
She imagined that in the fallout of Julian Corvus's removal, another one of those misguided fools would take his place. She had put her chips on the girl, Sasha, but that had been dashed by her untimely death. She would have said Vincent Moore but he was killed around the same time. Even the ruling council—some of whom she had long history with—had all been butchered by Julian Corvus. All of the good candidates had been brushed away and only Corvus' menagerie of sycophants had any hopes of rising. Perhaps that egotistical little Irishman, Galen Fitzgerald had finally clawed his way to the top of the heap—but a pathetic man like him would certainly not last long. He'd be gone even quicker than Julian Corvus.
“I have not,” she admitted dryly, her mind starting to fill with anticipation. “Who is it?”
Hopefully this wouldn't be another predictable letdown.
“David Purdue.”
There it was. The sweet sensation of legitimate surprise.
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