Vin had no idea who the man was that took Caeli away or where they might have gone. Thus, he could not hope to pursue them. He had been warned. Perhaps if he stayed away, then they may have let her go. That might have been the end of it. Though Vin doubted it, there had at least been that possibility. With his action, Vin sealed Caeli's fate, ensuring that she would remain a target. The fault lay with him, and there was no bottom to the deep pit of his failure. Becoming aware of his exhaustion, Vin slumped dejectedly onto the sofa in the oddly shaped room, unable to conceive what might happen next.
He did not know how long he sat there, but when next Vin raised his eyes, he was sitting in his favorite chair in his own home, not remembering how or when he traveled to this spot. He took a quick look around to confirm that he was alone. There was no one else in the cold, dark house.
Vin tried to pull himself together. He needed help, but did not know where to find it. The angels were busy preparing for the final battle to prevent the destruction of the barrier. Javeed had his own job to do. Salma was still recovering. He could think of nobody else to whom he could turn. Vin needed information more than anything else, the sort of details that were not common knowledge. He wished Raphael were here to help him untangle the mess he had made of everything. He looked up from his chair, half expecting to see the comforting gaze appear before him, but Vin was still alone.
He needed to make a decision and soon. Vin felt the clock ticking against him. It would only be a matter of time before the old man attempted to employ his advantage, and Vin would have to face that scenario with Caeli all over again. He did not intend to fail her next time; but, in order to win, Vin had to be better prepared.
Vin eliminated all the possibilities known to him except one. He knew where the book was hidden, and he knew that he could claim it, with a little assistance, if he so desired. This time, he was smart enough to realize that this might be exactly what his opponent expected him to do. He might bring the book out into the open only to have it abused by his current situation. Vin could not take that risk. He had to act in a way his foe did not expect, and he had to do it while his actions were still his own.
Vin concentrated on the location of the book, ensuring that he avoided the snare in the middle of the room by choosing the stairwell as his destination. The dust in the dark room swirled at his arrival. He looked toward the cubby hole and saw the book still resting within. That was good. The enemy hadn’t reached it yet. If the angels were keeping his adversary at bay, then Vin might have just enough time.
He moved up the stairs and emerged in the room above. The egress of the stairwell put Vin in the back corner of a small storage room full of barrels and crates of varying size. The stairs were nearly obscured by the containers. At the other end of the same wall, Vin located another staircase made of beautifully polished red oak and ascended toward the top. This time, Vin found himself in the back of a museum and inside a chained barrier which prevented visitors from straying into the restricted basement.
It was after business hours, and there were no people present except a night security guard snoring loudly in a chair behind the security desk. Vin began to explore the sprawling facility, hoping to find a clue about the lady he saw on his last visit. She was obviously aware of the room and the book it contained. He did not believe it was merely a coincidence that she arrived minutes after he tripped the snare.
Vin did not find anything helpful within the museum, but he did discover a path from the back door that led directly to a home one hundred yards away. He decided to investigate the house.
It was a simple, two-story, brick ranch with a small back porch facing the museum. It was surrounded by the aging concrete of the city streets and sidewalks. A tall, wooden fence led from the corner of the museum, along the pathway beside the house, and out to the edge of the next street. A matching fence could be seen on the opposite side of the house, running the same straight distance, thereby enclosing a relatively private patio area between the two buildings.
As Vin approached the house, he saw a young man with shoulder length, auburn hair sitting on the back porch smoking a pipe. He ignored the man and boldly went inside for a quick peek to see if the lady might be there. Vin had no reason to think that she should be or that she had been anything more than a curious museum employee; but he had one of those gut feelings that insisted she might have information that could help him. He dashed into each of the rooms on the first floor and then headed upstairs.
In a small room to the right of the stairwell, Vin saw a lady sitting at a wooden desk busily reviewing a stack of paperwork and writing notes in a ledger. It looked like she might be paying bills or reconciling invoices, so perhaps she was the museum’s bookkeeper. This was probably her office.
He moved so that he might get a better look at her, to see if he recognized her features as those of the lady he saw in the cellar. As Vin drew closer, she suddenly stopped her work and looked around the room as if trying to locate the source of a stray sound. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders and returned to the paperwork. It was definitely the same woman who responded to the alert in the cellar.
Her wavy dark hair, with a hint of red, was cut short. It fell just below her jaw and twirled inward toward her neck. Stray strands repeatedly fell forward when she tilted her head down to read, causing her to unconsciously reach up and curl it back behind her ear again. The lady was trim, very close to Vin’s age, though the noticeable lack of even the slightest wrinkle on her face suggested that she aged gracefully. Her hair, however, was not colored. Despite all that Vin saw of her cosmetic enhancements, the lady had a natural elegance and beauty that belied whatever miniscule flaws she was trying to disguise with makeup.
Her black business slacks and red, button up, silk blouse suggested that she was not struggling with financial needs. Her well-manicured nails, newly smudged with black ink from the papers she was handling, in conjunction with everything else he observed, told Vin that this woman had likely been financially well off for the majority of her life, but was now having to put forth an effort to maintain that level of luxury for herself.
As he stood watching her, something bothered him. Vin could not quite figure out what it was, but there was an unsettling quality about this woman; something almost familiar.
She stopped in her work again and laid the ink pen down across the page on which she just finished her most recent entry. She looked over in Vin’s direction, though he was certain she could not see him.
"I know you are there. Why don’t you say what you came to say and then leave me in peace?" The words conveyed her combination of boredom and irritation.
Vin did not answer. He was momentarily shocked that she could detect his presence at all, until he remembered that it was possible for certain people to do exactly that. Vin could now give firsthand confirmation that not all psychics were frauds. She certainly did not seem to have any interest in such foolery and plainly had the real ability.
"Suit yourself. I have just about had my fill of ghosts today anyway," she stated flatly and returned her attention to her work.
"Who are you?" Vin asked hesitantly.
"Fine question for someone who slipped into my house and stands watching me without bothering to introduce himself or make his presence known, isn’t it?" She fired back at him as if offended.
"My name is Vin. I apologize if it seemed that I was being rude or deceptive. That was not my intent. I was trying to make sure I found the right person before I imposed."
"So you found me, great! What message do you want to send, and who is the intended recipient? And be clear; no cryptic puzzles or such. I don’t have time to play games with you," her impatient response made Vin a bit more uncomfortable. Perhaps he was wrong. Maybe it was her psychic ability that alerted her to his presence in the cellar earlier, and maybe the same connection drew him to find her now. Perhaps he should just go back and wait for Raphael. No, his angelic friends could not help him now. They, too, were raci
ng against the clock.
"I was hoping that you might help me. I’m trying to find someone dear to me..," Vin started.
"Yeah, yeah. Who isn’t? Just tell me the name and the message," she interrupted impatiently.
"No, please. I think you misunderstand. I don’t want to send a message to anyone. I just need some information so that I can find her."
"What sort of information are you after?"
"Do you know anything about that cellar that you were in earlier today? Do you know what it holds?"
"Oh, so that was you. I should have known you would be back. Did someone put you up to this? It’s not bad enough that I spent my life ostracized for my ability, but now must I be a novelty for the amusement of ghosts?" She shook her head in resignation.
"No, I don’t know anything about that room, the book, or anything else; and I wouldn’t tell you if I did. So, if that’s all that you came for, then be on your way."
Vin knew right away that she was lying, and she was not very good at it.
"What book are you referring to Ms.? Please. It’s very important. A lot of people may die," Vin played along.
"Oh fine, but don’t play coy with me, Mister. You know exactly which book. It’s the same book you saw; the same book everybody else wants to know about; the same book that has been stuck in that room for years. That book was given to my father, a drunken louse who ran off and left my mother when I was a toddler. And it’s just as well. It gave me the opportunity to live with my mother’s father, who was rich and gave us all the material comforts that good ole dad never would have been able to provide. That book was the only item of value that worthless sire of mine left behind, and it was my inheritance when my mother passed away last year." The lady blurted it all out so fast that she was amazed how much she revealed to this specter in the wind, even if she had taken creative license with a few of the details.
"I have no idea why I just told you all of that, but it doesn’t matter. The book is mine."
"I’m sorry for your loss. It must have been difficult for you." Vin sympathized and paused to give those words their proper respect before continuing.
"Do you know what the book contains? Can you read it?" Vin hoped his inquiry would prove his suspicions to be correct.
"Yes. Well, no. What I mean is that I could read it if I understood the language. It looks like some sort of ancient cookbook."
Vin’s observations were confirmed by her words, and they were accurate. She could touch the book, which meant that she was a descendant of one of the brothers' bloodlines.
"Who else asked you about the book? Was it a recent inquiry?"
"That’s none of your business," she snapped.
"Did they say why they wanted the book?" Vin persisted.
"Why should I tell you?" Clearly, this was not going to be easy. She was exasperatingly moody. Vin would have to find a way to get her to let her guard down and talk to him. She had the proper heritage to use the book, and therefore she could be used, too. She would have to be warned, though Vin was not going to lay that burden on her yet. He tried changing the subject.
"Who put the ring in the middle of the room? What is it supposed to do?"
"I did. It is a trick I learned from my grandfather, who knew a thing or two about sneaky spirits. It alerts me whenever one of them comes along and gets too curious. If I’m quick enough, I can get down there in time to see them before they figure out how to break free. My grandfather helped me with that and taught me a lot about this world, the next, and all those in between." She was beginning to let her anxiety drop. If Vin could keep her talking along these lines, he might yet have a chance.
"Your grandfather sounds like a good man, and you were lucky to have him. Growing up in an orphanage and foster homes, I didn’t have anyone who cared enough to spend that much time with me." Vin was bewildered as to why he shared such personal details with this lady, someone he just met. Not to mention, Vin had not given thought to his orphaned childhood in a very long time.
"Orphanage? Well, I suppose that was not very fun for you," she conceded with her words, but still maintained an undercurrent of hostility in her tone.
"Listen. I can understand that you are cautious because you don’t know me. So why should you help me? I’m asking you to trust me on this. If I don’t find Caeli soon, the trouble brewing is likely to flow right up to your cellar door. I give you my word that my intentions are good."
"Well, now that wouldn’t help me much if they were not, now would it?" She stood and walked to the door to look down the stairwell where she could glimpse the man on the back porch.
"Tell me what it is that you want, and I will decide if I will help you or not," she, at last, offered reluctantly.
Vin took the time necessary to make himself visible to the woman, so that she might see his sincerity.
"Ms., all I want to do is peek inside the tome, but I am afraid that I might damage it if I try to turn the pages myself. Would you be willing to let me look at it and turn the pages for me?" Vin hoped that she would deny him this request. It would mean that she understood the risk and would not be tempted to do the same for anyone else who might ask it of her. She did not refuse.
"I suppose there is no harm in letting a man with such charming manners and distinctive features look at it, briefly, especially if it will get you out of my hair sooner; but you cannot touch it. Though you’ve probably already tried and got yourself a nice little jolt for your effort. That’s probably the real reason why you sought me. Nobody can touch that book without pain, except me, not even those who are dead. Let’s get going. I needed a break from this tedious work anyway. I will meet you in the cellar in a few minutes. Try not to step in the circle this time." She tossed the belittling comment after him.
A few minutes later, she came into view descending the cellar stairs. She walked slowly to the book and removed it from its resting place in the wall. She sat down on the cool stone steps so that the light from the sconces would illuminate the pages. The leather cover began to glow beneath her fingers as she caressed its decorated surface.
"Why does it glow like that?" Vin asked another question to which he already knew the answer, trying to get a baseline on how far he could trust her.
"It recognizes my blood."
She raised the cover to reveal the first yellowed page of the book with letters and shapes written in a dark brown ink of some kind. Vin looked over her shoulder and studied the page. He was not familiar with the language, but had the odd sensation that if he stared at it long enough, he might be able to figure it out. She flipped through the pages very slowly. When Vin indicated that he was finished looking at the current page, she would turn to the next, letting him have enough time to absorb what he could from each sheet before moving on to the next.
"There! Stop here. What is this symbol?" Vin felt a great deal of energy flowing from the symbol toward him. There was no mistaking that it was stronger than what he felt from the other symbols that caught his attention on previous pages. It caused an unusual stirring within him that he did not understand. Vin had to make a conscious effort to let the wind fade out of the room.
The symbol was placed at the beginning of a new page, as if it designated the beginning of a new chapter in the book. Each of the other symbols he saw was similarly arranged, emitting varying degrees of energy.
"I do not know. It just looks like a triangle with an extra line near its base. It reminds me of a Halloween candy corn," she let out a short chuckle at her own witty comparison.
Vin did not miss the subtle glances in his direction, as she watched his reaction nor the care she took in choosing the words of her response. She was definitely not here by coincidence. This lady knew much more than she led him to believe. And she, or her real employer, needed something specific from Vin. He hoped he wasn’t overplaying his hand this time around.
"Maybe that's it. Caeli always loved those candies. Perhaps the association reminds me of her. Please, continue." T
hey browsed their way through the rest of the book, and hours later reached the end. Vin learned enough to know what he needed to do next, though the consequences at stake were far more dire than he imagined. Vin still had a chance to make this right. He might still be able to save Caeli before she became the next expendable pawn in his enemy's game.
"Thank you immensely for your aid. I believe I have the answer I sought. I need to be on my way now. I hope that one day we might talk again." Vin nodded and faded from her view.
"Oh, don’t worry. We will meet again, Eyvindr," she responded almost in a whisper. The red haired man descended the stairs and stood waiting while she carefully replaced the book in its cubby.
"What happened, Dalla? Did he believe you?" The man asked. He was anxious to know the results.
"Yes, Scott. The deacon will be pleased with our work. Not only was I able to locate the book by using my gifted blood and confirmation retrieved from that crazy man’s mind, but we also got Eyvindr to verify his ability to read it. The poor sap is none the wiser for any of it. I completely had him eating out of my hand. He is rushing off to save his sweet little bride even as we speak. He still thinks this is all about him. He has no clue that a larger game is being played. It will only be a matter of time before Eyvindr is ready to help the deacon, willingly or not."
The two walked out of the museum, arm in arm, and returned to the curator's house out back. As they passed a thick row of bushes near the edge of the porch, both spared an unfeeling glance down at two partially concealed bodies, one red headed male and a female with short, dark hair.
Dalla. Vin now knew her name. He waited until she and her partner, Scott, left the museum before stepping out of the shadowy corner of the cellar in the midst of a light breeze. Neither of the pair was able to see him or detect him when he made the effort to deny them. Vin, on the other hand, found it quite easy to read the pair. He knew the minute Dalla arrived that Scott had come with her and waited in the storeroom at the top of the stairs. Vin allowed himself to be manipulated in her game. While he played the role Dalla expected of him, Vin made use of the opportunity to learn as much as he could from the Book of Elements. Vin was only just beginning to play this game.
The Book of Elements Page 25
