Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1) (21 page)

This didn’t bother Nate in the least. He might have felt a tiny bit of compassion for her in that jail cell—there had been no way for him to know of her innocence or guilt. But the best con men were those who convinced everyone else that they were innocent or incapable of crime.
 

But every man was capable of crime. If someone might have asked Nate ten years ago if he would ever be robbing banks, stage coaches, trains, or that he would ever consider killing a man, he would have thought the questioner a lunatic. Yet, here he was, a thief, a robber, and a killer. And he’d been doing these things for a decade now.

How and why he had started this lifestyle was as clear as day. He never questioned how this all began. Why he stayed in it for so long, however, was beyond him. He didn’t like to think about it too much. Thinking about it only made him feel guilty and he didn’t have time to feel that way. Still, the thoughts came up now and again. He supposed there was an aspect of thrill to it. He liked the adventure, the plan of a heist. He didn’t particularly like the killing part of it, but sometimes it was necessary.
 

More than all that, however, was that when one started such a life, it wasn’t easy to get out of it. You get wanted for one crime, it’s technically breaking more laws to run away. And it’s not like after breaking the law one could just go out and get a job. A man had to eat regardless of what side of the law he fell on. So, it only made sense that once a man was wanted by the law that he could only keep from starving by breaking more laws. But then a man gets a taste of how much he can accumulate if he’s good at breaking the law. And once he becomes richer than he would ever be by any conventional means, it’s a wonder why the lawlessness hadn’t started sooner.
 

Most people weren’t any good at being outlaws. Many didn’t know how to pick their targets just right. Others might be all right at the law breaking part of the job, but fail to plan a proper escape.

A lot of outlaws found the end of a rope early in their career, and Nate had come close a few times. But he had discovered a long time ago that with careful planning, skilled marksmanship, and a little bit of luck, life as an outlaw was manageable.

But Nate was tired of running. That was why he was ready to give it all up and move to Montana. As far as he knew, no one had heard of him out that way. Somewhere deep within, Nate knew that Montana was just a dream. No matter how much money he had, he would always be looking over his shoulder. That was one of the biggest downsides to being an outlaw. No matter how old he got, no matter how far away he ran, there was a always the chance of some bounty hunter or lawman showing up at his doorstep, ready to take him to prison.

He’d picked Montana because he’d heard of how beautiful it was, and that one could go for miles and miles without ever seeing another person. It seemed like a good place for Nate to disappear. But the world was getting bigger. And pretty soon, even in Montana, Nate wouldn’t be able to stay clear of people for too long. And the threat of the law would always be looming, especially if Levi Thompson was out there looking for him.
 

Levi Thompson was another story altogether. The man had been a thorn in Nate’s side for years. He was the one man who Nate feared, yet he was just about the only man he didn’t want to kill. Of course, Nate had a good reason for this, but he didn’t like to think about it. He shook the thoughts from his head. Troubling himself with horrors of the past wasn’t helpful.
 

It never was.

About an hour before the sun faded from the sky, Alban decided it was time to set up camp for the night. In the back of the cart, Alban had packed plenty of food for them to eat, along with comfortable bedrolls for each of them. Nate put himself in charge of starting the fire while the others unloaded.

They made camp about a hundred feet off the road. They were armed well enough that they didn’t fear being robbed, and Alban doubted any Rangers patrolled this part of the forest. They were safe for the night, it seemed.

Soon, the fire was blazing and Alban already had a pot boiling with his signature mutton stew. The smell made Nate’s mouth water and he knew there was a remedy to that. He reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out his flask. It was filled with whiskey from another bottle that Alban had been gracious enough to let Nate have. Taking a swig, he couldn’t help but notice Rachel’s disapproving stare from across the dancing flames, but Nate just laid back on his bedroll and smiled at her, then winked with as much charm as a man with a flask could muster. She pulled her eyes away from him and stared into the fire.
 

For the next few minutes, Rachel, Alban, and Marum exchanged stories. Alban did most of the talking, which was primarily about things that went on at the farm. He spoke of memories when Rachel and Marum had been little. Hearing them talk, Nate could see the bond among them. Marum really was like a sister to Rachel, and Alban was truly a father to both of them.
 

They didn’t talk about Droman. They didn’t talk about Alban’s late wife, Iris. They kept it light and full of laughter while Nate sipped away at his whiskey. For the first time in a long while he felt relaxed.

The mutton stew tasted better than the night before. Alban claimed that it had something to do with allowing the mutton and fat to sit in the pot and truly flavor the broth. However the method, Nate found himself with a full belly and a thirsty tongue. The whiskey did little to alleviate the need for water, but he didn’t like to have water when he drank hard liquor. It kept the fiery liquid from doing its job effectively.

Nate looked up at the stars. He never claimed to be an astronomer, but he could tell that these weren’t the same stars from home. This was a completely different sky, though just as brilliant and clear. He wondered what constellations there were, or if people of Galamore had ever worried about such things. Nate figured they weren’t really patterns in the sky until someone showed you what you were looking at. Sure, a big group of stars might be a dipper to some, but it could just as easily be a plow or a saucepan to another. Nate figured if he stared at these stars long enough, he could make just about anything out of them.
 

His flask was almost empty when conversation turned to Nate. He had been happy to listen, but the others were apparently running out of things to talk about. He guessed he understood that they had questions about him, but that didn’t mean he wanted to answer.
 

“So,” Alban said, looking up at Nate, “I’ve been thinking on your story. On what you said about being from a different place.”

“Texas,” Nate said.
 

“Right, Texas.” Alban looked into the fire thoughtfully, his white bushy eyebrows forming a crease in the middle of his forehead. “I was just thinking that this has happened in the past.”

“What are you talking about?” Nate said. He felt himself involuntarily sit up straighter.
 

“People who claim to have come from other worlds by way of a book from another world,” Alban said. “I have studied a lot, geography being a particularly favorite subject of mine, and I’ve never heard of Texas. So, naturally that leads me to two options, either it’s a made up place by you, or…” his voice trailed off for a moment, then he sighed. “Or you’re a Sojourner.” He cleared his throat.

“I hope I’m a sojourner,” Nate said. “I don’t really want to be here long.”

Alban shook his head. “No, no, I mean in the sense of the title,
Sojourner.
It’s a name given to those who have traveled here from other worlds through books. If you are indeed a Sojourner, then you will be the first one for hundreds of years. That’s not to say there haven’t been others who I haven’t learned about, but to my knowledge, you would be the first in a long, long time.”
 

Alban inched closer to the fire and stuck out his hands to warm his palms. The night air had laid a blanket of cold on their backs, though their fronts were toasted by the fire. Rachel and Marum scooted closer together and even shared a blanket that wrapped around their shoulders. The two of them looked up at Nate to see his reaction as Alban expressed his new idea, but Nate stayed as he was, on his side and nonchalant.
 

As silence passed between them, Alban noticed Nate rubbing his limbs, trying to fight off the cold. Alban stood without saying anything and went to the cart, rummaging through one of the chests he’d brought.

“I thought you might be cold come night time,” Alban said as he stood next to Nate, holding a wad of tanned leather in his arms. “Seeing as you came to my cabin without a coat, I figure that wherever you came from it was hot.”

“Hotter than hell,” Nate said, standing from his bedroll.

Alban handed him the coat and smiled. “Try it on.”

Nate slid his arms through and instantly felt warm under the light leather. It fit him perfectly and came all the way down to his knees.

“You’re too kind,” Nate said.

“That coat was given to me many years ago by an old friend,” Alban said as he crossed to the other side of the fire and sat back down.
 

“I’ll be sure to give it back once we part ways,” Nate said.
 

Alban waved him off. “I haven’t worn it in years. Can’t really say why, but I just haven’t. It’s yours if you want it.”

Nate didn’t really know what to think. The quality of the coat was unmatched, and the leather had already been worn in, making it soft under the arms and at his shoulders.

Truth was, the act of kindness from Alban made Nate feel uncomfortable. He didn’t like wearing another man’s clothes, but he didn’t like frost crystallizing on his back either. He was grateful for the gesture, but he geared the conversation back to whatever it was they had been talking about. Sojourners, was it?

“So,” Nate said. “did these others come through a book with no title on it? No author?”
 

Alban shook his head. “I cannot know. I have never met a Sojourner because I’m only in my sixties and I’ve never had the chance to venture into
The Book of Time.
”

He said the last part as if such an utterance was common. “The book of what?” Nate asked.
 

“Oh my,” Alban said. “Every passing moment proves to me that you truly aren’t from around here.”

“I have no reason to lie to you,” Nate said.

“
The Book of Time
is one of The Ancient Books,” Alban said. “Few know where they are. No one knows how to use them. They are out there somewhere and they are very important.”

“Okay,” Nate said. He sat up and set his flask in the front left pocket of his new coat. “What does that have to do with me?”

Alban stuck out his lip and shook his head. “Nothing, that I know of. I was just making a joke that I am not old enough to have met a Sojourner.” He smiled, but his face became serious again and he stared at Nate. “What was the book like?”

Nate stared at the raging coals underneath the wood. He could feel their heat on his face and he wasn’t sure how much of the heat was from the fire or from the whiskey in his belly. He swallowed and did his best to describe it. He repeated the part about no title and no author. “But the strangest part,” he continued, “was that the pages could be flipped continuously and never stop. It was like there were an infinite number of pages. Then, when I looked down at the words, they were continually being written in front of my eyes. It was like someone was there with a pen and ink, writing in front of me. But there was no hand, no pen, nothing.” He nodded toward Marum. “That’s where I read about her. It was just a few sentences before I found myself in a cell next to her, wearing the same clothes I had on, carrying everything I already had with me.”

“So,” Alban said, “you find it necessary to be so fully armed in Texas? What were you, a lawman?” There was a glint in Alban’s eye when he said this, but he suddenly frowned when he noticed Nate’s hesitation.
 

Nate was afraid it was going to get around to this. But he didn’t need to tell these people anything, and he especially didn’t need to tell them the truth.
 

“I was a bounty hunter,” Nate said. “I was chasing after a man called Tyler Montgomery.”

“So, how did you come across this book?” Rachel chimed in.
 

Nate could feel his cheeks burning. Rachel knew he was cornered and she pressed him to her delight. But Nate wasn’t intimidated by her. She didn’t know anything about it and she had no evidence to dispute him. All Nate had to do was keep his story straight.

“Tyler Montgomery was the man with the book. He opened it first and I went in after him.”

“Along with your brother?” Alban asked with a cocked eyebrow.
 

“That’s right,” Nate said without hesitation. “He went just before me.” He shook his head. “I’m more worried about finding him than I am about finding Tyler Montgomery, but I suspect he might know how to get back home. So, I might let him live if he tells us how to leave this place.”

This made the others shift uncomfortably.

“You’re allowed to deal out justice then?” Alban asked. “What has this Tyler Montgomery done to break the law?”

“A lot of things,” Nate said. “He’s a thief and murderer. He deserves to hang whether I collect the bounty or not.”
 

Truth was, Nate actually felt this way about Montgomery. The man had cheated him out of money and into this puzzle that was Galamore. Sure, the act of going into the book might have saved Nate’s life, but he had no doubt that this was Tyler’s intention all along. The man didn’t care about paying Nate. He cared about entering the book. He wanted to be in Galamore for some reason.
 

This land with gray elves and Sentinels and various magic things was all a bit too much for Nate. He felt like he was constantly in a bad dream and that he might never wake from it.
 

Nate made it clear that he didn’t want to talk to them about his life outside of the book any longer. His head was swimming and he was afraid he might say something stupid and give away the fact that
he
was the outlaw, not Tyler Montgomery.