Eximere (The River Book 4) (24 page)
Read Eximere (The River Book 4) Online
Authors: Michael Richan
He strained to hear Roy rummaging downstairs, but couldn’t.
The house was remarkably quiet. Someone could be in the room next door, or
overhead, and you wouldn’t notice. The only thing you noticed was the slight,
warm breeze.
Steven checked his watch. It was 5 o’clock – Eliza would be
there in an hour. When Steven and Roy explained to her how they were able to
eliminate the marchers, she said she wanted to visit for a vacation, to relax
and get away from California, and see what they’d accomplished. They told her
they’d meet her at the tunnel’s entrance at 6.
Steven thought about how easy it had been to get rid of the
marchers. They contacted Malachi, asking about how it could be done. They were
expecting to hear an astronomical price, but instead Malachi told them the
price to turn them off was no charge – it came with the cost of turning them on
in the first place. Roy asked Malachi to turn off the boundaries of the legend
shelf immediately, and that night the marchers moved on. Since then, the place
was available 24/7.
I wouldn’t mind being buried down there
, Steven thought, still looking at
the graves under the banyan tree.
Where else would I be buried?
Can’t
think of a more beautiful spot. I wonder where Roy wants to be buried? Probably
next to Mom, back in Seattle. But I wonder if he’d say this place, if I asked
him.
Steven had been worried that the place might stop working at
some point – the lights just shut off, and the whole house become unusable.
They had explored James’ workroom and found the third object in the room with
the draining device was indeed the object keeping the place going. Roy checked
it for a signature, and recognized it as Albert’s. They called Albert, hoping
to find out more about the device and the terms James had arranged. Albert was
characteristically silent on all questions, honoring his client’s anonymity
above all else. But he did say that since it was an old contract and that the
owner of the contract had been deceased for a long time, he didn’t mind telling
Roy that there was no chance the arrangement would cease anytime soon. “He said
a
long
time,” Roy told him. “And Albert’s time scale is much longer than
yours or mine, so I think when he says
long
, it’ll outlast you and me.”
Although they worked on returning books to others and setting
up shop in the house so they’d be comfortable, Steven and Roy agreed that while
Eliza visited they’d lay off the work and just relax. Neither of them had
stopped working since they’d shut down the device months back, and they were due
for some down time. They’d talk shop if it came up, but they agreed to give up
active searching for book owners while she was there.
Steven knew he should walk back downstairs and see if Roy
needed any help, but instead he fell onto his bed and stared up at the high
ceiling. The bed was incredibly comfortable, and he knew if he didn’t get right
back up, Roy would find him napping.
Eximere is addictive,
he thought.
When
I’m not here, I think about it. Now that I am here, I feel better. Eliza was
right, I’m too cynical.
He stretched his arms out on the bed.
What could be better
than this?
he thought.
This beautiful place, these rewarding tasks, and
all that discovery waiting to happen downstairs…
He drifted off, confident Roy would awaken him when it was time
to go meet Eliza.
###
Michael Richan lives in
Seattle, Washington. He was born in California and raised in Utah.
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The River
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:
The Dark River series:
All three series are part of
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Complimentary first chapter of the
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“Come in,” the woman said, stepping aside to let Steven and
Roy enter her house. It was a normal mid-century home common to the area of
Beacon Hill, a neighborhood south of downtown Seattle. Across the street was a
park, abandoned at the moment.
Steven and Roy stepped inside. It was furnished simply but
comfortably, with magazines stacked on a coffee table and an older style
television in the corner. Steven noticed a framed picture of JFK on the wall.
“Please, sit,” she said. “Would either of you like some
coffee? Let me grab some from the kitchen.”
Steven sat with Roy on a sofa in the living room. Roy was
holding an old book they intended to give to her, once they could explain to
her where they got it. Steven looked around the room. Fake flowers in a vase
over the mantle. A display of tiny ceramic bells on framed shelves.
“There we are,” she said, setting down a tray with coffee
mugs. “Please help yourself.”
“Mrs. Williamson,” Steven began.
“Please, call me June,” she said. Steven looked at her – she
was in her mid-fifties, a little grey around the edges, but slim and well
dressed. She looked like she might be going to work. Her voice was soft and
lilting, floating just above a normal voice, and it sounded as if it had a
slight accent that he couldn’t place. Every word she spoke seemed deliberate
and perfectly pronounced. When she began to pour the coffee, he noticed her
movement was slow and graceful.
“June,” Steven said, “as my father probably told you on the
phone, we believe we’ve found something that belongs to you. We think it’s a
book that your husband was intended to inherit. I hope you don’t think of this
as a strange question, but did your husband…” Steven always found describing
his abilities an awkward thing. The words always jumbled up.
“Did he what?” she asked.
“Did he have ‘the gift,’ as they call it,” Roy interjected.
He smiled at her, a little nervously, unsure if she’d think him a crackpot.
“Ah,” she said. “I thought so.” She set her mug down
delicately and slowly walked into another room.
Steven looked at Roy, concerned.
Was she pissed?
he
thought. He had no idea how she’d just taken the question, and was worried she
might emerge with a shotgun.
Instead, she emerged with a book of her own. She sat back
down, and turned it to Steven and Roy.
“When you mentioned a book,” she said, “I thought of this.”
She handed it to Roy, who took it and flipped through the pages. He recognized
some of the writings.
“He kept that book the entire time we were married,” June
said. “It’s his writings, and I think his mother’s writings are in it, too. I
looked through it once after he passed, but I couldn’t make any sense of it.”
“We believe the book we’ve brought,” Steven said, “was
written by your husband’s grandfather. We believe he intended to pass it along
to his heir, your husband’s mother, but it was stolen from him and he never got
the chance.”
A loud bang came from the kitchen, startling Steven and Roy.
At first Steven thought it was a gunshot, but then he realized it must have
been the slam of a cabinet door. June didn’t look startled by the noise, just
annoyed.
“Ah,” Roy said, taking a breath, “your daughter and grandson
must have returned.”
“No,” June said, “they’re both still out.”
“You said you wanted to meet privately,” Roy said. “I assume
we’re not alone.”
“Depends on what you mean by alone,” June said. “I do want to
talk to you about that,” she said, nodding in the direction of the kitchen,
“but let’s talk about the book first. You say my husband was supposed to have
it?”
“We believe so, yes,” Roy said. “We came across it in our
work, and felt we should return it to you.”
“And what sort of work do you do?” June asked.
“Well, I’m retired,” Roy said, “and Steven’s on a sabbatical
of sorts…”
“Oh, not that kind of work,” June said. “I mean the kind of
work my husband used to do. The work described in these books.”
“So you do know your husband was gifted,” Steven said,
wanting to hear her say it out loud.
“Oh yes,” she said. “Of course.” She looked at both of them,
and they seemed to exhale and relax into the sofa simultaneously. “Oh, I’m
sorry to both of you. You didn’t know I knew. I should have told you.”
“That’s alright,” Steven said. “It’s just that sometimes
people don’t know, and then it’s really awkward.”
“Yes, my husband had the gift,” June said. “He used it his
whole life. I was rarely part of it, but I knew he had abilities, and that he
was quiet about it. Sometimes he would tell me things, but usually not. He kept
that book the entire time I knew him. If you’re telling me the book you’ve
brought belongs to him, I believe you. I’ll be happy to keep it with his book.”
“Perhaps at some point,” Roy said, “the books might be passed
along? To your daughter?”
“Perhaps,” June smiled weakly. Another loud bang came from
the kitchen. It sounded as if someone had slammed a cabinet door shut as hard
as they possibly could.
“What is going on?” Roy said. “What’s all the racket in
there?”
June sighed. “I was hoping it might happen while you were
here, to convince you,” she said. “But apparently they’re upset.”
“Who is ‘they’? Who’s in the kitchen?” Steven asked.
“There’s no one in the kitchen,” she said. “Come with me.”
She stood and walked towards the kitchen. Steven and Roy
followed.
“You see?” she said, glancing around the kitchen. It was
silent, with all cupboards closed and everything appearing to be in order.
“Someone slammed the cabinet doors,” Steven said.
“Yes,” June said. “You never see it happen. You just hear it
from another room. I would never say this to anyone for fear they’d think I’m
crazy, but I suspect I can say it to you without fear of that. I’m convinced
the house is haunted.”
“How long has this been going on?” Steven asked.
“Since we moved in,” she replied, “three months ago. Not so
much at first. The last few weeks it has increased. But I haven’t heard bangs
that loud in so short a time. They must be upset you’re here.”
“You’re sure no one’s here?” Roy said.
“Yes, I’m sure,” June said, grabbing the coffee pot and
leaving the kitchen. They returned to the living room with her. “My daughter
and grandson left earlier. They won’t be back until this afternoon. More
coffee, Steven?”
“Thank you,” he said, watching as she refilled his mug.
“Frankly, when we talked on the phone, Roy,” she said, “it
occurred to me that you might have skills similar to my husband’s, and that you
might be able to help. Neither my daughter nor I have the money for another
move, and I know if Mark were still here he’d know what to do. You’re welcome
to use his books if you think it might help.”
“What about your daughter?” Roy asked. “Is she able to help?”
“Are you asking me if she has ‘the gift’?” June said. “Yes, I
believe she does, but she won’t use it.”
“Why not?” Steven asked.
“Things didn’t go well between my late husband and her,” June
said. “There was a time in her teens when he was teaching her things. But when
he died, it all came to an abrupt end. She rejected it all, became very
rebellious. I had my hands full with her, let me tell you. She was in and out
of jail for theft, drugs, you name it. Once she had Robbie, the chill between
us came to an end, and she let me help. She’s been better, she’s tried to be a
good mother. But I don’t think she’s ever used her gift since those says with
Mark. I think she still rejects it all. We don’t talk about it.”
“And the bangings?” Steven asked. “What does she think of
that?”
“I know she’s heard them,” June said. “But she’s never said
anything. She has an ability to ignore things that she doesn’t want to see.”
“What about her son?” Roy asked. “Do they scare him?”
“Robbie comes running to me when he’s scared,” June said,
“not to his mother. I think he’s run into a few things that have upset him, but
I can’t be sure. With kids, you never know if it was a nightmare, or something
they imagined.”
“Do you think Robbie has the gift?” Steven asked, thinking of
his own son, Jason.
“I have no idea,” she said. “My daughter might know, but
she’d never discuss it. Maybe you’d know if you met him?”
“Maybe,” Roy said. “When they’re young it’s hard to know. How
old is Robbie?”
“Ten,” June said. “Next month.”
“Puberty is when it starts to kick in,” Roy said. “I suppose
we could meet with him if you’d like.”
“What I was hoping,” June said, “is that you’d help me with
the bangings?” She smiled weakly at them both. “I know it’s a lot to ask,
especially from someone you just met. I don’t really have anywhere else to
turn. They’re annoying and I could live with them if I had to, but I worry for
Robbie. They seem to center around him. I think they might really scare him, or
worse, and he doesn’t deserve that. I know Mark would have known what to do.
I’m hoping you might know.”
Steven looked at Roy, and they exchanged a quick glance.
“Steven and I are working on a larger project,” Roy said, “but let us think
about it for a few days, if you would?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “Anything you could do to help
would be appreciated, even if it’s something small you could fit into your
schedule.”
Roy handed both books back to June. “Here,” he said, “keep
these together. They should all go to your daughter, but maybe they’ll go
straight to Robbie someday.”
“And with that,” Steven said, arising from the sofa, “we’ll
be on our way.”
They all exchanged goodbyes and Steven and Roy were soon back
in Steven’s Honda, driving the short distance back to his home in Seward Park.
“Nice that she’s so close,” Steven said to Roy as they
travelled. “I worry one of the books might wind up taking us to China or
something.”
“We’ll ship the book if that’s the case,” Roy said. “I don’t
mind delivering these books to people within a day’s drive, but otherwise we’ll
box ‘em up and ship them. They’ve been kept from their rightful owners for
multiple generations, so who knows if the inheritors even want them. For a moment
I worried that June thought we were crazy.”
“What do you think about the house?” Steven asked. “Do you
want to help her?”
“I always want to help,” Roy said. “Sometimes it gets me into
more trouble than it’s worth. Like Medford.”
“Or Eximere?” Steven asked, referring to the place where
they’d located all the books they were now returning to their heirs.
“Well,” Roy said, “Eximere is an excellent example of
something we shouldn’t have gotten involved with, but turned out to be a
fantastic opportunity. Every book we return corrects a mistake from the past.
You don’t often get that kind of a chance in life.”
“No,” Steven said, “I suppose not.”
They drove a moment in silence before Steven spoke again.
“Do you believe in evil?” Steven asked Roy.
“Why are you asking me that?” Roy said. “Seems like an odd
question coming from you.”
“I know you were never a religious person,” Steven said.
“Neither was I. But when we were dealing with Michael and Lukas, I felt
something in our interaction with them that was different. Not like Jurgen or
Anita, who seemed like bad people who chose to do dark things. Lukas was
different. He didn’t seem…”
Steven struggled for the right word.
“Human?” Roy offered.
“Yeah,” Steven said, “I guess that’s it. The ghosts we’ve
dealt with, they’ve all had a certain humanity to them. As fucked up as they’ve
been, they were still rooted in some routine that was normal, some aspect of
human life. Mundane sometimes. Lukas didn’t feel that way.”
“I agree,” Roy said. “Lukas was different.”
“Have you dealt with others like Lukas?” Steven asked.
“Only once before,” Roy said. “It’s mostly been ghosts for
me. I’ve tried to avoid creatures like him.”
“So I come back to my original question,” Steven asked. “Do
you believe in evil?”
“I guess I’m going to need you to define what you mean by
it,” Roy said. “People throw that word around a lot.”
“Satan,” Steven said. “The devil. That kind of thing.”
“Put that way, no, I don’t,” Roy said. “But if you mean the
opposite of what’s good and decent, yes, I believe that exists. I think
religions give it names that fit in with their theology. But it’s the same
thing.”
“Do you think it’s something that exists in its own place,”
Steven asked, “or is it something specifically designed to interact with
humans?”
