by JM Bray
‘You’re not supposed to be alone,’ Flea said with quiet intensity.
‘I’m not.’
‘Then where’s Vinni?’ Knife asked.
‘He’s sitting right behind you.’
Knife turned. ‘Right. We would have heard...’ Vinni smiled, lounging on the grass next to them.
‘Hi, guys.’
‘How did you do that?’ Flea whispered.
‘Practice then some practice. Then after that I — ’
‘Practice, yeah, yeah, I know,’ Flea said.
Knife grinned and shook his head. ‘At least he didn’t sneak up and scare us.’
Flea nodded. ‘I might have had to change my shorts if he did.’
‘Too much information.’ Jule giggled. ‘Come on, let’s get back to the house.’
Vinni stood and took Jule’s hand. The moment made Knife feel good, almost normal, and he could use some normalcy right now.
Vinni wondered if anything would ever be normal again. Would he even survive to walk with Jule on a moonless night? He looked up at the cloud-filled sky. If the weather ever clears.
‘You want me to get out a flashlight?’ Knife asked.
‘Nah, I’m good.’
‘You mean you can see now?’ Flea asked.
‘Clear as a bell — benefit of the Joining. Just follow me.’ He led them unerringly to the cul-de-sac.
‘Hang on a sec,’ Jule said as they reached it. Her peasant skirt had caught on a bush.
‘Let me get that.’ Vinni knelt beside her and worked the fabric loose.
‘No peeking up my dress.’
‘There you go.’ He stood. ‘Hey, so are you wearing the leg sheaths today?’
She tilted her head and arched an eyebrow. ‘If you’d peeked, you might have found out.’
The guys snickered.
Yeah, I think I have my hands full with her.
Vincent chuckled.
The dim, old-fashioned streetlights always gave Vinni an odd sensation, as if the lighted area was the only current reality.
‘Do you think we can go to Samedi Gras?’ Jule asked.
Each year on the Saturday before Halloween, the university held a costumed celebration. The clubs, fraternities, sororities, and departments vied to outdo each other with the most outrageous or profitable booth. The night bordered on chaos and was a highlight of the year. Vincent envisioned it for Coleman.
‘Coleman is up for it.’
‘If that tenseness in the garage is any indication, it might be good to blow off some steam,’ Flea said.
‘Yeah, Flea, I’m sorry about that,’ Vinni said.
‘It’s cool.’ He answered softly.
‘Listen.’ Knife said. ‘We’ve been going to classes and acting like everything’s okay, but it’s not. I’m always wondering what might step out from behind a bush or something. It’s got me totally on edge. I could use something really, actually normal about now.’ Knife nodded.
‘I was thinking the same thing earlier,’ Vinni said.
Flea nodded. ‘It’s only a few hours, plus we’ll be surrounded by tons of people, so it should be safe.’
‘It’s settled then, let’s go,’ Jule said.
‘What should we wear?’ Vinni asked.
They walked on, thinking.
‘How about a band?’ Jule suggested.
‘Maybe a rock band,’ Knife shrugged.
Vincent bit back a laugh.
‘Hey, if you don’t like the idea, all you gotta do is say so.’
‘No, it’s Coleman. He misunderstood your idea.’
‘Ah.’ Knife nodded.
Jule sounded excited. ‘How about a warrior band but dressed all punk. You know, like Mad Max.’
Vincent provided visuals for Coleman. ‘I guess. That way we can wear weapons and not get hassled.’
‘It could work,’ Knife said.
‘Oh, come on guys, show a little enthusiasm. They’re costumes. It’ll be fun, trust me.’ Jule smiled.
Knife opened the door and Flea disabled the alarm.
‘We’ll wear our blades; you guys can carry baseball bats. It’ll be cool,’ she said.
Vinni put his arm around her shoulder. ‘You’re right, it will.’
Flea said, ‘Hey, it’s Wednesday night. Since we’re stuck here, how about we have our own Dollar Movie Night?’
‘I have a term paper that needs some polishing, but I can hit that afterward.’ Jule said.
‘Sure, sounds good,’ Knife replied.
‘We can watch Mad Max,’ Vinni said.
‘Cool, I can get costume ideas,’ Jule said as she walked into the hall.
He followed her, and reality suddenly twisted. The corridor beyond her stretched into infinity. Jule’s movements became jerky and exaggerated; her arms lengthened pendulously. Everything tilted, and he put a hand out to steady himself. The torturous screeching of ripping metal layered over a low groan that threatened to tear him apart. He covered his ears, crashing into the wall and onto his knees. Someone grabbed him, and Jule turned, her smile gone. In the distance behind her a pinpoint of noxious green light appeared, rushing at them with incredible speed. The vile, toxic flame engulfed her and swept over him.
Someone was screaming in a terrified moan.
Then...it was gone.
All of it.
The hall was as it had been. Jule was at his side, but someone still screamed.
‘Vinni, sweetie, it’s okay.’ She put a hand on either side of his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. ‘Focus on me,’ she said calmly.
It was him.
He was screaming.
It might have been moments or minutes later, he didn’t know, but the knowledge allowed him to stop. His throat was raw from the strain, and his eyes darted past her fearfully.
‘Vinni.’ She shook his cheeks gently. ‘Look at my eyes, nothing else.’
As he did, the fear dissipated like water through a sieve.
‘Are you here?’ she asked softly.
He breathed deeply. ‘Yes. But so is the Tearer.’
Chapter 32
Tearing the Shroud
Justus hobbled from room to room, dressed in soft flowing robes that gave no comfort for his restless anticipation. He’d tried reading, but his mind wandered. Who would the Master find in such a short time? Justus didn’t like releasing control of situations. The variables were too numerous.
‘Bah.’ He thwacked his cane on a padded stool. ‘Pae, you feathered rodent, why did you stand there like a piece of prized taxidermy?’ He waved the cane like a wobbly sword.
‘Kee awe.’
‘Fine, you didn’t want to end up stuffed, but you could have done something.’
Justus gazed out the window; after a few moments, he said, ‘Whatever will you do without me?’
‘Ree mmm.’
‘Yes, I suppose the house is as much yours as mine after all these years.’
The bird bobbed its head rapidly.
‘Let’s sit in the sun.’ He exited the library. ‘The solarium is just the thing we need.’
The bird walked and hopped beside him, easily keeping up. The solid glass room was the most costly to construct in the mansion. Justus had demanded large sheets of the clearest possible glass; after seeing them beyond the Shroud, he would settle for nothing less. The arduous task had proved impossible for a dozen glassmakers who claimed to be up to the task. One particularly proud artisan, who had called Justus’ idea idiotic, now fertilized the rose garden. ‘In the end I was right, was I not, Pae?’
‘Mmm.’
The room was a wonder of the Realm and as large as a dining hall. Its position had been determined by sending riders into the surrounding city to spy out where the masses would see it best. As the sun se
t each day, the orange light refracted from it like a beacon.
Justus settled into a soft chair. ‘Yes, this is just what’s needed.’ He sighed and promptly fell asleep. At sunset, he awoke under an umbrella Laurence had placed to shade him while he rested. Pae had apparently sought his own devices after a nap on the nearby perch.
‘Laurence,’ he called.
‘Yes, Sire?’ The manservant’s voice came from the entrance to the main house.
‘The hour is nearly upon us, is it not?’
‘I believe it is, Sire.’
‘And he would be entirely correct.’ The Master’s melodious voice came from the chair next to his.
‘If you give me a heart attack, our contract is null and void,’ Justus said.
‘That would never do.’ The Master wore white and truly looked like a creature of the Eternal Realms. Justus had to catch his breath; the man was beautiful beyond imagining. He inclined his head.
‘Shall we retire to the laboratory?’
‘Wherever you desire; we can do it here if you prefer.’ The Master waved magnanimously.
‘Then let’s adjourn to the room where I will rest, so Laurence doesn’t have to move me.’
‘Shall I retrieve the rolling chair for you, Sire?’ Laurence asked, apparently unaffected by the Master’s sudden appearance.
‘No, I’ll walk to the chamber an old man and walk out as one in my prime.’
‘Very well, Sire.’ He bowed and preceded them into the Eastern wing. They walked slowly through a large billiard room and into a cleverly constructed music chamber with panels that concealed the exit when shut. Justus always enjoyed the discomfort it caused guests. The gallery always pleased Justus’, making him feel at ease, two of his favorites in particular. A canvas with a dreamily painted garden and one next to it titled The Tree of Life, which depicted a bleak landscape with a single barren tree. Upon close inspection, the viewer would see that it consisted of various mutilated body parts. After the gallery, they turned into an alcove that wound gently upward into the structure. ‘Might I ask a question or two, Master?’ Justus asked.
‘Certainly, though we may choose not to answer.’
‘When I last made this journey, I returned having reversed my age by the length of time I was away. How does that occur?’
The Master grinned slyly. ‘Because you are consuming the years. The time you spend inhabiting your host is time taken from their life. Stolen time doesn’t cease to exist; it requires a balance. Therefore, as it leaves the host, it is recovered by you.’
Justus’ mind leapt forward. ‘This means that the host, having had that life taken from him, would age twice the amount.’
The Master chuckled. ‘Another detail we left out of the recent contract.’
What ‘details’ were left out of his? A bit late for second-guessing, he supposed. He shook his head and sighed.
‘Is something bothering you?’
‘Yes, this old body. I’ll be glad when it’s younger again,’ he said smoothly.
‘Time is a precious commodity.’
They turned at the top of the ramp and entered a room facing the courtyard. It wasn’t overly opulent, without wall hangings or ornament. The only décor was a small table, a large bed, and thick curtains, currently pulled back. The setting sun gave the room a golden glow.
‘A bit meager, isn’t it?’ The Master asked.
Justus shrugged. ‘I won’t be looking at it anyhow.’
The Master nodded. ‘Practical. Now, any other questions?’
‘Several; do we have time?’
He looked upward as if gauging something. ‘Not much. Ask quickly.’
‘You found a suitable and...agreeable host?’ Justus looked at him hopefully.
‘We are sure you will be entirely satisfied.’
He smiled. ‘Grand. As to the Kafla, how are they controlled?’
‘With the lesser ones, there isn’t much control to be had. They will come to their master’s voice and go generally where they are pointed, but after that, one is never quite sure. They are relentless in pursuit of their prey and very useful in that regard. The purer of the breed are capable of speech and not as...randomly formed as the common ones; you should find them worthy servants.’ He nodded. ‘We have provided a talisman to your host, which he believes to be a symbol of our agreement. You will have no difficulties, we assure you.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Shall we be about this, or wait another twelve years?’
Justus sat on the bed and gently lay back.
‘Will this be like before?’ Justus asked.
A smile played at the corners of the Master’s mouth. ‘You shall find this distantly different. Now...release your mind.’ The last word ripped through him, and terror jolted every fiber of his being. He went rigid, and his heels thrummed rapidly against the mattress.
Then...
He floated through a yard along a tall fence draped in purple morning glories then passed a stump, stained with blood and dotted with small feathers.
He sailed over the roof of a cottage, and the landscape beyond changed to golden hills of sand. Onward he flew, his speed increasing, and within moments he settled to the ground beyond the last dune. A dry lakebed stretched before him. As he stepped forward, the ground opened, and a huge crevasse formed across his path. The sound of rushing winds came from its black depths. Justus peered desperately for a way around. A voice came to him on the winds, the voice of the Master. ‘You must make a way across.’
His heart beat faster. ‘But how?’
‘You must be the bridge.’
He looked at the other side in the distance, and panic flooded him at the impossibility of the task. ‘But...I can’t.’
‘You must!’ The voice roared, searing him with a blast of heat.
‘How?’ Tears streamed down his face.
‘Fall forward...and reach.’
He could not deny the voice and tipped forward, stretching his arms outward, straining to find the other side. Somehow, in this nightmare land, his body elongated, stretching and thinning, until his hands found the opposite ledge. He hung between the two sides, undulating in the wind over the dark of infinity of the chasm.
With tremendous effort, he maintained his grip and then realized something walked on him; moments later, he saw the first Kafla step off his hands onto the other side.
‘I can’t do it!’ he screamed.
‘Longer, hold on longer,’ the voice insisted.
He tried, crying in terror, but his grip failed at last; he fell, tumbling endlessly into the dark depths.
‘Oh!’ he yelled, sitting up in bed.
Sweat poured off his body and soaked his sheets. He tried to get his bearings; stood and stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the light. ‘What a nightmare,’ he tried to say, but his mouth felt strange. He looked into the mirror to see why and froze. He examined himself, turning his head from side to side, and noticed the silver object hanging on a chain around his neck. It looked like a tiny stick with notches carved upon it. Slowly he started to smile.
‘I made it. I...am...here!’ Justus shouted as he thrust Jimmy Wood’s fists into the air.
Chapter 33
Mr Ross
The phone rang.
‘Hello, Theodore Ross, attorney at law. How may I assist you?’
‘Hello Joan. I hate to bother you a fourth time, but it’s imperative I speak to Mr Ross.’
She sighed. ‘I’ll see what I can do, sir.’
Music played through the line.
‘Ted Ross here.’
‘Thank you for taking my call. I’m contacting you regarding a trust.’
‘And your name is...?’ Irritation tinted his voice.
‘Oh, terribly sorry. This is Jimmy, rather...Franklin Wood. You may call me Frank.’
‘Fine. Frank, what can I do for you?’
‘Approximately thirteen years ago you set up a trust for a Mr Wilson. Do you recall?’
‘Yes, I do.’
<
br /> ‘Would you verify a number for me?’ Justus asked.
The line went silent.
So, you thought to maintain the trust indefinitely.
‘Please hold, Frank. Let me get that file.’ A moment later Ted returned. ‘I’m ready.’
‘10211920211923912191514,’ Justus said. He could almost hear the man’s mind working.
‘Please repeat those numbers, Frank.’
‘10211920211923912191514.’
‘What’s the parrot’s name?’ Theodore asked.
‘Pae.’
‘Where’s...he kept?’
‘Callendel.’
Justus heard a slow exhale. ‘Mr Wood, a pleasure to receive your call. How may I be of assistance?’
‘Theodore, thank you for following procedure. I need a driver to pick me up within the hour. Have the keys to the home ready and a representative from JCorp at your office when I arrive. I assume JCorp is still in operation.’
‘That’s an understatement, sir; the investment strategies implemented by Mr Wilson had...unforeseeable results.’
‘Really? How so?’ Justus asked.
‘JCorp’s holdings currently stand at one point eight billion dollars, sir.’
He paused. ‘So, we’ve done reasonably well?’
‘I don’t have your exact personal worth at hand, but you are one of the wealthiest men in California, perhaps the United States.’
‘Then double your stipend, Theodore; you’ve managed things properly.’
‘Where do I send the car, sir?’
‘I am at Joe’s Café in Hollywood; is that sufficient?’
‘Absolutely, sir; I’ll have one there within thirty minutes.’
‘Theodore.’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘I’m a bit short on cash.’
‘Not a problem, sir. The driver will provide for any need you have.’
Justus hung up.
‘Mr Ross — ’
Justus opened Andrew’s office door before Joan could finish. The lawyer’s jaw dropped, though he quickly recovered. The man behind him didn’t fare as well. Apparently they’d been expecting someone older or a distinguished businessman in a fine suit; not the spike-haired leather clad young man he now inhabited.
‘Theodore Ross, I presume.’
