Into the Ether (15 page)

 

The days
moved
with nail-biting slowness.
No task or chore
could pass the time fast enough.
Everywhere I looked, Thomason or Walter lurked in the shadows.
While I knew why Thomason was there,
I didn't know
how to respond.
And Walter's presence was even more confusing.
Everywhere I turned, he was there
, watching
.
Thomason seemed to be unaware of him.
He just followed me like a lost puppy.
When I worked on the artifacts, he came by and brought me tea, and even refilled my pot from the reservoir in his hand.
It always tasted a little tinny, but he seemed so eager to please, I didn't have the heart to tell him.

The truth was, despite
his creepiness
, he was
growing on me.
I didn't want to like him
.
It complicated my already muddled life.

Phillip had been slaving over the box nearly nonstop for two days, and as I woke the third day, stretching, I could only hope that all his hard work would pay off.
Tonight was the moment of truth.
We'd either succeed together or fail miserably.

I dressed slowly.
I didn't want to leave my room.
Somehow, leaving meant that the day had started.
But if I stayed here, secure in my small pile of blankets, I could keep time at bay.

If only it were true.

****

Breakfast was strange.
Phillip came, still in his work clothes, looking like he'd fall over any moment.
Colonel Worthington seemed to sense my anxiety and was overly perky from the moment we sat down.

Even Phillip looked at him like he was slightly mad.

“Are you certain you don't need to take a break?”
I asked Phillip one more time as he shoveled a fried egg into his mouth.

A few quick chews and he shook his head.
“Honest, Gennie, I'm fine.
A little tired, but when I'm finished, I'll take a day's worth of naps.”
He smiled again.
“Don't fuss so much.
I'm enjoying myself.”

I shook my head.
“Glad I could be useful then.”

He pushed away from the table.
“I've got to get back to it.
I'll see you all a little later.
Gennie, come down around
ten-thirty
.
It should be done by then.”

I knew my eyes were like saucers.
“
Ten-thirty
?
Tonight?”

He nodded.

“Cutting it a little close aren't we?”

He shrugged.
“It was either take the extra time or mess up the lock.
Didn't have a choice.
Besides,” he winked.
“What kind of an adventure would it be if you had tons of time to examine it?
You'll be so awestruck when you take it to Spiros tonight, you won't have any time to doubt me.”

He sauntered out, whistling
.

“He has a point, you know.
You'd worry yourself into a frenzy if he had it sooner.
As it is you're nervous enough for all of us.”
The curator chuckled and relaxed in his chair.

My cheeks burned.
“I can't help it.”

He nodded.
“We know.
But you shouldn't worry so much.
Everything will come out just as it should.”

I nodded, but I couldn't bring myself to do more than nibble at the food on my plate.
My stomach was churning and I feared eating too much would just make it worse.
All I needed on top of everything else was to be sick.

“Go down to the crates.
That should help you pass some time.”

“I suppose so.
I'll think about it.
”

Cleaning up from breakfast, I decided to take his suggestion.
Turning around, drying my hands on a tea towel, I sighed.
“I think I will go down to the storeroom.
If you need anything, let me know.”

He nodded once, flipping another page in his newspaper.
As I turned the door handle he cleared his throat and called my name.
Colonel Worthington leaned forward, watching me from under his spiky
,
white brow.

“If something untoward should happen, Gennie, you must promise me to get away from here as quick as you can.”

I froze.
“But if you're hurt
—”

He shook his head.
“No.
Phillip and I, even Walter, can take care of ourselves.
If you end up in Kreios' hands with that box, then everything will have been for nothing.
Promise me.”

Crossing my arms, I glowered.
“Why is it that everyone wants me to promise to run?
I'm not a coward
,
and I'm not as weak as everyone thinks.”

“Ah, Genevieve.
I don't think you
r
weak, my girl.
I know many others who could never have survived what you have.
But you need to run from this in order to fight a bigger battle later.
I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was important.”

My nose burned, and my voice came out in a whisper.
“Fine.
I promise.
But I don't like it.”

The curator snapped his newspaper back up.
“Thank you.”

He didn't say anything else, but I could see that his shoulders seemed less stiff.
Some of the tension had eased out of his body.

Shaking my head, I left, heading for the storeroom.
On my way through the Greek and Roman room, a few of the artifacts stopped
me.
Even they could pick up on the tension in the air.
Some of the more sentient ones wanted to know why it smelled like the calm before a battle.
I answered them as best I could, but it shook me more than I wanted to admit.
Battle was the last thing I wanted.

I stayed in the storeroom until dinner.
Thomason came promptly at six, waiting patiently as I finished speaking with the canopic jar I had been avoiding for days.
He'd had interesting things to say, but some of it was unsettling.
He kept talking about duty and hidden secrets within secrets and making implications that I should be careful for such things myself.

Ridiculous, right?
As I walked out, trailed by Thomason, I had to wonder if this time the artifacts knew more about the future than I did.

Dinner was a quiet but pleasant affair.
I made a conscious effort to push away any worries or thoughts of what could go wrong.
Everyone avoided the topic of the evening.
No one wanted to think on the possibilities.
You could go mad doing that.
Something in me had relaxed as the hour drew closer.
For better or worse, this was it.
Whatever happened, it would be done with.
I could only hope for the best.
It eased the knot of apprehension in my gut enough to get through the meal.

After we had finished, Phillip produced a beautiful molasses pie from Miss Violet and cut everyone generous portions.

“She brings me these things two or three days a week.
I've got to start sharing them, or I'm going to start looking like Walter.”
Phillip joked as I moaned over the sugary goodness that
melted
in my mouth.

“I'll take some off your hands anytime.”
I told him, digging into the pie.

Colonel Worthington mumbled something of the same effect around the bite in his mouth.

“How much longer, Phillip?”
The curator asked when we were all leaning back in our chairs, sated and full.

“Same time as this morning.
Ten-thirty
, give or take a few minutes.
Don't worry.
I'll be ready.”

I nodded and he rose, heading back out the door.
The man had to have been feeling bone tired, but
it
didn't
show.

“He's thrilled to get the change to work on something so
complicated
.
Don't think it
'
s an
inconvenience
.
Believe
me
,
he's enjoying himself more than he has in a while
,”
Colonel Worthington said with a smile.

“I didn't think I was so transparent
,”
I told him.

He shrugged.
“It takes awhile, but when you aren't guarding your expression, you're very easy to read.”

I frowned.
“I'm not sure I like that.”

“Don't worry.
I won't tell anyone your secret.”

I smiled and then leaned back in the chair.
The flames in the hearth sputtered and crackled with a cheerfulness that was quickly fading from my heart.
Dinner was over.
There were only a few hours before I had to face Spiros.
Going back to the storeroom was an option, but I didn't want to be around the artifacts.
They knew something was wrong and they had fallen silent.
It was disconcerting to walk through halls that once vibrated with whispered words and were now still as the grave.

The air felt heavy and watchful
,
as if the world were holding its breath, waiting to see what happened.
Possible scenarios ran through my head, and none were pleasant.
Some saw everything going as planned.
A few even involved Terry's immediate return.
But most ended in
tears
and blood and Kreios' laughter.
They bounced inside my skull until I wanted to pound my head on the wall to knock out the images.
Or at least myself.

The clock on the mantle struck the nine o'clock hour.

****

I sucked in a huge breath and released it slowly, taking the box from Phillip.
He looked worn out, but pleased.
The replica glittered in the glow from the forge, vines and leaves curling across the silver and brass lid.
The longer I stared, the more things I could pick out.
A snake here, a deer there.
The box seemed to have a life of its own.

“This is amazing
,”
I murmured.

Phillip chuckled.
“It's not half bad, but doesn't do the original justice.
Greater hands than mine worked that metal.”

“I can't imagine that anyone could do better than you.”

He laughed then and pushed me toward the door.
“Get on with you.
You're as bad as Miss Violet with all your pretty words.”

I didn't answer, my gaze torn between watching the stairs and examining the box.
It was magnificent, even in the dim light of the hallway.
I just prayed it would be amazing enough to fool Kreios.

Each step through the
museum
was like slogging through quicksand.
My heart fluttered like a bird's and nervous energy made my entire body tremble.
This should be simple
. Walk
outside and deliver the box and walk back.
Easy.
Fast.

But as I trod to the doorway, something felt wrong.
I stood, one hand resting on the handle, the other arm clutching the box to my side.
A few deep breaths later, I pushed the door open slowly and slipped outside into the cool night air.
I stayed close to the wall, glad I had chosen a
dark-
colored dress to wear.
I didn't want anyone to see me until I was good and ready.

I slunk through the shadows until I reached the corner of the building.
Then I made my way slowly up the fence line.
When I reached the corner, I stopped,
leaned
against the slats
,
and
watched
my breath make small, frantic puffs of steam.
Thankfully, tall bushes on the other side of the fence hid me from anyone on the street.

And then I heard the noise.

Balancing the box between my stomach and the iron slats, I peeked through, parting a few branches with my hands.
A few feet away, Kreios stood, his face illuminated by the match he was using to light a thick cigar.

“Go and meet her, Spiros.
I think the others have gotten inside by now.
Make sure you bring her back with the box.”

Ice swept through my veins, closely followed by panic.
I turned away as quickly as I could without dropping the box or drawing attention to myself and stared at the museum.
They were inside.

With what had become my family.