by Sonya Clark
Eve didn’t know whether to chase the dog or help Frances. Frances made the decision for her, gesturing wildly and yelling “Get Mac before he winds up in the woods!”
Eve took off after the dog. As she turned a corner on the pathway she thought she heard Frances scream something that sounded like “Goddamn pixies!” She slowed for a fraction of a second, then the sound of barking urged her forward. She almost collided with a blue haired groundskeeper working on a flower bed, apologizing quickly before speeding ahead.
She caught up with the Yorkie in an open green area. A small brick and stone building, too utilitarian to be a home, stood at the edge of the green close to a line of dense trees. Eve slowed to a walk, not sure if she could trust what she was seeing. MacGuffin appeared to be engaged in a rowdy game of tag with…with Tinkerbell’s goth sister.
Half the size of a Barbie doll, with iridescent wings and purple and black…clothes? Flower petals? Something covered its tiny body. It moved so quickly Eve had trouble making out any details. It grabbed the dog’s tail and pulled. Eve was able to see it a little better, enough to make out the creature’s faintly yellow skin, large slanted dark eyes, pointed ears, and wide mouth open in a maniacal grin.
Approaching gingerly, she picked up the leash, hoping she didn’t attract the thing’s attention. It may have been tiny, but it had teeth. She could see them as it snapped at MacGuffin’s tail. The dog whimpered and that was enough for Eve. Batting away the…it really is a pixie, isn’t it? Eve picked up the dog, cradling it in her arms protectively. Suddenly emboldened, he started barking anew.
“There you guys are!” Frances jogged to join them, clearly relieved. “They keep bothering Mac, trying to lead him into the woods.” She faced the pixie, raised her hand palm out and said something Eve couldn’t make out. It backed up as if shocked, then turned around, wagged its butt at them, and flew off into the trees. “I wish Chet would let us shoot a few of the damn things. That would learn ‘em.”
“What was that thing?” Eve set MacGuffin on the ground, handing the leash back to his owner.
Frances hesitated, giving her a questioning look. “Has anyone told you about the woods yet?”
Eve shook her head.
“Well, don’t go into the woods by yourself. Getting lost in these woods, let’s say you might be seriously lost. I’ll get Chet to tell you about it, he knows more than I do about that.” She pulled a treat from her pocket and gave it to the dog.
Eve took a step toward the tree line, peering into the dark wood. If there were monsters hidden deep in the forest there was no hint of it in the daylight. She strode closer to the building, coming around to where she could see the front better. A large stone pedestal with a stone gargoyle atop it stood in front of the door. It looked like something out of tourist pictures of Europe, like the great gargoyles of Notre Dame. Curious about its age and what the stone might tell her, Eve moved toward it with her hand outstretched.
“No! Don’t do that!”
Eve assumed Frances was yelling at the mischievous dog. She placed her hand on the stone foot of the gargoyle, warm from the sun, and everything went black.
Chapter 10
Eve woke with a pounding headache in a strange bed. She sat up in a rush, then regretted it as her skull tried to peel away from her brain. Or perhaps her brain was trying to explode out of her skull. Either way it hurt like hell. Hunched into a ball with her knees pulled up, she held her aching head until the worst of the pounding stopped.
What the hell had happened? The last thing she remembered was touching the gargoyle, and then…darkness. Complete and utter darkness, like a gate slamming shut and locking her away from every source of possible light. An overwhelming sense of unwelcome, and even danger. Good heavens, did the gargoyle act as some sort of real guardian? Eve was no evil spirit to be repelled, but maybe the gargoyle didn’t know that.
Unintelligible voices caught her attention. She looked around the room. Everything looked perfectly normal, if a bit impersonal. Slowly, she got to her feet and wobbled toward the voices. The closet door was slightly ajar, an article of clothing hanging from the inside door knob. Eve paused, trying to make out the voices. The temptation of the closet was too great. Biting her lip, she swung the door open.
One side of the closet held dark suits and dress shirts, the other jeans and casual wear. “Chet or Pete?” She took a closer look at the clothes, finding no tweed or anything else that looked professorial. “Must be Pete.” She shut the closet, more interested in finding out if he had aspirin.
Pete, Frances, and Chet were gathered in the living room. Frances and Chet greeted her so warmly she forgot to be embarrassed about passing out. Pete gave her water, aspirin, and one of his strange squinty looks before taking up position against one wall with his arms crossed. She thanked him and sat on the couch next to Frances, surprised to notice MacGuffin tucked next to her. Pete didn’t seem to be the type to care for animals or allow them in his home.
Chet said, “I guess I should have explained a few things before leaving you this morning.” He turned his bright blue gaze on Frances. “And you’re a lousy tour guide.” But his admonishment was tempered with a smile.
“Hey, I’m a very good tour guide. I just forgot to tell her not to touch the gargoyles.” Frances widened her eyes in exaggerated concern.
“There’s more than one gargoyle?” Eve took another sip of water, trying to keep from looking over the apartment with nosy curiosity. A large flat screen television dominated one wall. Next to that was a book shelf full of DVDs.
Chet glanced at Pete. When Pete didn’t seem inclined to answer Chet said, “There are a handful of security stations around the perimeter of the property. And as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, you really shouldn’t bother the gargoyles.”
Eve tried to decide how to ask her next question. “Are they…I mean, is it some kind of, um.”
“They act as guards.” Chet seemed at a loss as to how to explain things. “I’m sorry, I’ve been here so long I’ve forgotten what it was like to be new and not know all this stuff. The gargoyles are guardian spirits who protect the grounds. That’s really all there is to it.”
All there is to it. Ah huh. Eve said, “And I shouldn’t go in the woods?”
Pete looked agitated. At least that’s what Eve could only assume from the way he squinted harder. Chet said, “No, you absolutely should not go in the woods.”
“Because there are pixies in the woods?”
Chet looked startled, turning to Frances with an exasperated expression.
“One of them came after Mac! Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one that won’t let me shoot them.” Frances pulled MacGuffin into her lap for a snuggle.
Returning his attention to Eve, Chet said, “There’s more than pixies in the woods.” Eve raised an eyebrow. “Look, I promise I’ll tell you all about it. Right now, though, we need to focus on getting you ready for Frankfurt. Now, do you need to rest some more? It’s lunch time, we can go get something to eat and then get back to work.”
“That’s fine. My headache’s already better.” They stood to leave. At the door Eve paused and asked Frances, “How did I get here?”
“Oh, Pete carried you.” Frances grinned, her tone over-bright. “In his arms.” In a fake stage whisper she added, “It was very Gone With The Wind.”
Pete glared. Chet worked to suppress a smile. Eve had the feeling teasing Pete was something the others enjoyed. It was information she filed away for the future, as she didn’t feel quite comfortable yet for that. Trying to catch his gaze she said, “Thank you.”
For a moment he stopped squinting. “You’re welcome.”
Eve was almost looking forward to their shooting lesson. It might be enough to make him widen his eyes.
****
The Bradbury Archive looked like something out of a dream. Row upon row of shelves were laden with thick volumes. Glass cabinets held rare and precious antiques so delicate they needed
to be handled with the utmost care. In the middle of the room was a large work table with laptops on each end, notebooks and papers scattered, a hand-held wand scanner, and a stack of leather bound books. The walls were covered with ancient maps, portraits from centuries past, and art that looked like it belonged in a museum or the private collection of a millionaire. Even the air tasted ancient, the dust of centuries clinging to vellum and leather.
As Chet gave Eve a tour of the library it was plain to her this was more than just his place of work – this world of books was his home. He treated the ancient volumes with reverence, meticulously checking the temperature and humidity of the special cases that held the oldest items. Some of those items were indeed very old. One drawer held scrolls.
“Some of these things, you have to wear special gloves to handle.” Chet showed her where to find the white gloves. “Jean-Pierre will work with you on shielding eventually, but until then, I’d suggest you stay away from some of the more dangerous books. We have a lot here that will broadcast pretty loud to a sensitive.”
Eve smiled. “It’s hard to imagine books being dangerous.”
Chet led her into a cluttered office, moving a stack of folders from a chair for her. “When I was in the fifth grade I took a Dungeons and Dragons book to school. The teacher took it away from me, told my mother I was being drawn into devil worship.” He chuckled as he took a seat behind his desk. “That teacher would have a stroke if she saw some of the books I deal with every day here.”
“You have a lot of grimoires here?”
“Grimoires, spell books, the journals and autobiographies of wizards, sorcerers, alchemists. We’re in the process of digitizing everything so the knowledge isn’t lost when the books themselves finally deteriorate, or if there’s some accident here. Franny’s my assistant so she heads that up. Sometimes somebody will have free time and help.”
“Where is Frances? I thought she’d be here.”
“She’s in the lab with Rami. She’s my assistant but she’s also his apprentice, so she divides her time.”
A wizard’s lab? “She’s an apprentice to a wizard? That sounds…wow. How advanced is she?”
Chet grinned. “I think she’s about to graduate from the blowing stuff up phase.” He pointed at a rectangular table against the wall. “We put together some information for you to read through so you won’t feel like you’ve been thrown into the deep end of the pool when we get to Frankfurt. Background on Mueller and his auctions, what we could get on short notice about the items we know will be for sale. Stuff about people we know or expect to be in attendance. I figure that’ll keep you busy the rest of the day. Tomorrow we can talk about the Key.”
He wasn’t kidding about taking the rest of the day. A fat three-ring binder sat in the middle of the table, full of pages. “Looks like I better get reading.”
“I know it seems like a lot, but the more prepared you are, the better off you’ll be.” He stood and made his way to the door. “How do you like your coffee?”
“Heavy on the milk and sugar, thanks.” Eve scooted her chair to the table and dragged the binder to her.
“Oh, there’s one more thing I need to show you.” He walked back around his desk, pulling a jar from a drawer and placing it on his desk. “Treats for MacGuffin. He’s not allowed in the lab so he may be around somewhere.”
Eve smiled. Chet left the office. Sure enough, within minutes the little Yorkie came into the office. Eve gave him a treat and he curled into a ball at her feet to nap as she opened the binder and began to read.
****
The townhouse they put her up in was bigger than her own apartment and felt even larger due to only having a few pieces of furniture. Eve unpacked her bags and fell into bed, exhausted. Her sleep was fitful though, dreams of the Key and what she’d felt from the box intruding into her consciousness. She finally woke when the dreams turned into blood-soaked nightmares.
Abandoning the bed for the breakfast nook, Eve drank a bottle of water and tried to calm her nerves. Judith and Chet spoke of danger and she believed them. Even so, in the light of day it was easy to feel insulated from fear. She’d fallen into a fairytale world – surely nothing could hurt her. The nightmares told her otherwise.
In need of a distraction, she retrieved the compass from her purse. She didn’t try to read it though, not feeling up to a repeat of the psychic overload she experienced in the morning. Instead she just turned it over in her hands, admiring the detail. Wondering who GFI was. She clicked the latch to open it. It still didn’t point north.
Eve carried the compass to a window, moving the curtains back. The needle pointed in a southerly direction, straight out of the window’s line of sight. The main building of the institute lay in that direction, and behind that what had looked to her like the thickest part of the surrounding woods. Somehow Eve didn’t think it was coincidence the compass pointed in that direction. She stood at the window for a long time, watching the darkness light up with occasional flashes of multicolored light. Hopefully it was pixies playing in the night.
Chapter 11
Pete did his best to wipe sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hands. “I’m just saying, I don’t think this is a good idea.” He landed a light punch on the heavy bag.
Chet stood on the other side of the bag, bracing it. “Duly noted. Again.” He didn’t bother to hide his annoyance.
“This girl has no training. By her own admission, she can barely understand how her psychometry works. She’s little more than a glorified secretary.” He punctuated each sentence with increasingly harder punches.
“She volunteered.” Chet readjusted his stance. “And I agree with her thoughts about Knox. Their shared connection with Rebecca Delafield may help her get through to him.”
Pete made a face. “Please. He’s not going to be thinking about his grandmother once he gets a look at this girl.” Her full mouth would draw the eye of any man. From there, the gaze would travel south to the swell of curves poorly hidden by modest clothing, the gentle sway of her hips while she walked. Pete had been unaffected by these things, of course, but it was his job to notice.
“This girl has a name,” Chet said. “Be a jerk all you want, but don’t disrespect her.”
Pete squinted. “Hey.”
Chet left the heavy bag and walked to a small fridge, retrieving a bottle of water. “She volunteered for this because her ability has given her unique insight into just how dangerous the Key of Darkness is. I know we can’t ignore her lack of training or experience, but we also can’t ignore that we need people like her here.”
Pete strode to the fridge and held out his hands. “You mean people with psychic abilities?”
Chet set the bottle on top of the fridge and began to unlace Pete’s boxing gloves. “People who are moving toward something, rather than running away from something.”
The skin around Pete’s eyes tightened. “If that’s directed at me, pot, kettle, bitch.”
Chet grinned. “The glass House of Kedrova does not throw stones. Look, I think Eve has real potential. Give her a chance.”
“I’m sure she’d make a good little helper in the Archives. No way is she cut out for field work.”
“You would have said the same thing about me, if you’d been here five years ago when I first came to Bradbury. I was primarily an academic then.” Chet tossed the gloves onto a side table and grabbed the water bottle.
Pete flexed his hands. “You still are. What’s your point?”
Chet took a drink and replaced the bottle on top of the fridge. “You’d be surprised what you can do when people underestimate you. Eve will have that going for her. Knox and others will see this petite, graceful young woman. They’ll think she’s fragile and out of her depth. They’ll drop their guard, and then she’ll drop them.”
Pete should have seen it coming. The archivist had done it to him once before, when he was new at the institute, still scrawny and malnourished. That was a long three years
ago. Pete trusted Chet now, as much as he trusted anyone. Chet and Sanngrid were his closest friends. Sanngrid advertised her abilities with a certain swagger, but Chet kept some of his quietly tucked away under a layer of tweed and the scent of old books. He may have been a glorified librarian, but he had a black belt in badass.
He was also fast. Pete barely had time to register the other man’s movement when a fist connected with his midsection. It did more damage by knocking the breath from him than actual pain, and it slowed him down. Chet dropped to a crouch and slammed his shoulder into Pete’s torso, football-style, forcing Pete to backpedal. The back of his legs collided with gym equipment, knocking him off balance. Chet grabbed his arm and stepped under it.
In seconds, Pete was flat on his back on the mat. “Damn it.” He struggled to breathe. “I hope that hurt your hand.”
Chet laughed. “You’ll be happy to know it hurt my hand and my shoulder. But it got the job done, too.”
Slow clapping came from the entrance. “Very nice, Chesney,” said Sanngrid. “And you didn’t even break a sweat.” Her grin brought a scowl to Pete’s face.
What brought the color to his cheeks was Eve Kane, flicking her eyes over his bare torso. “Can you teach me how to do that?”
Sanngrid said, “That’s what we’re here for.”
Pete hopped to his feet and hurried to the t-shirt he’d left on the floor near the heavy bag. “Good luck with that.” He tugged on the shirt and crossed the room, wishing there was another exit. The two women stood in the only doorway and he’d have to walk right past them.
Hurt darkened Eve’s face, quickly replaced by a calm tranquility he suspected might be total bullshit.
“Oh, I think she’ll do just fine,” said Sanngrid. She stepped aside to let him pass.
Eve did not. He met her eyes briefly as he negotiated through the doorway around her. “I’ll find you later for your shooting lesson. Assuming, that is, you make it through this one.”
