Keeper: Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Del seemed to take the potential onslaught of visitors in stride. Jamie had the hunch that his ease was due to the fact that helping Jamie entertain visitors was more in keeping with what he had been hired for in the first place.



“Somehow I don’t think he signed on for single handedly helping to defend the new Keeper against assassins.” Jamie muttered as he returned to the library. He had a mug of hot chocolate in one hand and set it on the desk’s coaster with a smile. He had tried to hide how shaken the mirror with its disappearing act had made him but had apparently not done too good a job. The hot chocolate was Del’s idea of comfort.



“Not bad as such things go.” Jamie pulled the inventory towards him as he settled into the worn chair. It creaked comfortably beneath his weight. He flipped the pages to Storage room three.



“I really should have checked this before opening crates,” Jamie said to himself as he read the entry on the mirror. Apparently the mirror reflected the destruction of the former house of the keeper. Jamie thought of the images he had seen. “More like the aftermath of destruction.” The images he had seen just reflected the blasted stone and earth. “Unless I just came in at the end of the movie clip.” He continued down the list. Some of the items made no sense to him. He wasn’t sure if it was because the notes were in shorthand or because the objects were simply that foreign to him.



“After all what would mirror, rlc dest orig hse have meant if I hadn’t seen the mirror first?” He let his finger slide down the narrow, handwritten lines of the inventory. “Odd that all of the rest of the house inventory is typed up. Maybe it is just the keeper’s floor.” He flipped a couple of pages. He found the clothing storage and the hat box that had cause so much dust fairly easily. Its page was typed. Jamie flipped back to the storage room three pages. “Handwritten. Maybe no one wanted to go through these to update them.” The thought gave him pause. Why had no one ever opened the crates? The handwriting on the inventory page was old. It had that peculiar sepia tone that blank ink seemed to get after a lot of time had passed. He continued reading the old and faded lettering but came up with nothing that looked like it would have been a box of journals dated 1809.



“That would have been almost too easy,” Jamie said, stifling a yawn. “I could actually do with a little bit of easy at the moment.” The old handwriting and hot chocolate had done its work and Jamie was finding it hard to keep his eyes open.



“With the early rising and exciting day I’m not really surprised.” He stood and stretched. Not sure where else to begin, he decided sleep was a good option. He walked back to his room, eyeing the closed door to Albe’s room with suspicion even though Del had assured him that the room had been cleansed. He entered his room and closed the door. For extra measure he locked the door, something he had never done at Albe’s before. He felt a little silly but not silly enough to unlock it. He undressed and slipped into bed. He was pleased to see that Del had laid the fire against the chilly night and he watched the shadows dancing on the ceiling as he drifted to sleep.



In his dreams the firelight took on a different tone. Gone was the warmth and comfort of the hearth. These flames were bent on destruction.



“Form a bucket line,” A voice harsh with smoke called. Jamie watched as men lined up passing buckets between them to empty on the blaze. Jamie tried to join them but in this world he had no substance. He was only a dream. He stepped away. As he watched, he realized that while all of the men in line were male, very few of them were human. He saw those who reminded him of Del and those who were shorter. These men were barely three feet tall and extremely hairy. Only the intelligence in their eyes kept him from suspecting they were animals of some kind. He wondered if those were the same type of people who had formed the mini hazmat team earlier. There were those whose build and form reminded him of the High Talbot and those whose visage shot fairy tale words into his brain. Words like giant, goblin, sprite and elf. Jamie shook his head trying to take it all in. The air was filled with bits of shimmering and with a start he realized that the shimmering, flying things were fairies.



The bucket line was losing the war against the flames. The commander of the bucket line seemed to realize this at the same time Jamie did and spilt his line in two, sending half to soak the area around the blaze so that it would not fan out and consume the forest. Jamie looked around. The cleared space for the house was roughly the same size as it was now. He couldn’t imagine the trees burning.



“But if this is the destruction of the first house then 200 years would have grown them back.” Jamie caught movement in the trees.



“The blaze is not natural, where are the dampeners?” The hoarse voice again called. The outlines in the woods shifted but they did not come forward. Help came from another direction. They were a mixed bag of people as well but each of them held out their hands much the way the High Talbot had done when fighting the thing in Albe’s room.



“Magic,” Jamie thought. Part of him wanted to stay and watch but he was curious about the watchers in the woods. Careful to keep his footsteps light in case any here could detect him, Jamie made his way around the fire brigade and towards the forest. He edged into the tree line and towards the shadowy figures. He had thought they wore capes of black but instead the nearer he drew he noticed they were dark green, dappled with darker browns.



“Like camouflage,” he thought. The old fashioned camouflage seemed to be working as no one in the clearing seemed to notice those who watched from the woods. The hooded figures stood watching the activity. They were silent and for the most part motionless. Every so often the capes would shift in the breeze, mimicking the rustling of the leaves. Jamie tried to look beneath the hoods but could not penetrate the darkness. He counted five of the hooded figures. An explosion in the clearing caused him to turn and stare at the action. The scene more closely resembled the image from the mirror now, with a hole blasted into the earth where a small stone house had stood. Around the hole the bucket line was decimated. The debris had caught them like shrapnel and Jamie saw many broken limbs and bleeding wounds. Jamie’s first instinct was to rush to help but he remembers his attempts to aid the bucket line and restrained himself from running forward. The hooded figures showed no surprise at the explosion. For a few heartbeats they stared at the destruction, then as one the five cloaked figures turned and began walking away from the clearing. Jamie followed.



His presence went unnoticed as the group moved through the woods. They moved as silently as the shadows they mimicked. No twigs snapped between their feet, no branches sighed with their passing. Jamie realized he was silent as well since his presence seemed to affect nothing. It was eerie. The only sounds came from behind and faded the further they got from the clearing. Jamie shivered at the unnaturalness of their passing and fought the impulse to shout something into the night, just to hear a sound. The group approached a small patch of open ground in the woods. In this space stood a sixth cloaked figure. Moonlight seemed to light the scene like a streetlight and Jamie ached for his sketch pad. The five figures he followed stepped into the moonlight and bowed slightly to the one who waited. Jamie found that with the direction of the moonlight he could actually make out some of the features of the one waiting. He had a large hooked nose and eyes that were pale yellow. They seemed to almost glow in the dark recesses of his hood. On his left cheek there was a semi-circular scar. It looked as though something sharp had been pressed against the skin as the scar looked uniform in depth. Jamie shivered.



“It is done,” one of the hooded figures said, causing Jamie to jump. “The keeper could not have survived. Lune Merdos will go as planned.” The scarred man nodded. He turned away and began to walk. The other five followed. Jamie started to follow, a light tapping sound stopped him. He frowned looking around for the source. The sound continued and Jamie realized the tapping was coming from outside of the dream. Blinking, he awoke in his bed. The tapping continued. Jamie turned towards the sound. Someone was knocking on his window.

Storm Chaser is now available

Hi everyone, my second book Storm Chaser is now available. I've pasted the link below.  I know several of you have asked about e-book versions of Storm Chaser. As of yet it is not available as an e-book.  However, if you follow the link there is a send a note to the publisher to request it as an e-book. I'm thinking the more people I can get to press that button the better luck I will have convincing convincing the publisher. For what it is worth. Oh and there will be a new chapter either late thursday or early friday for Keeper.  I sort of wrote myself into a corner.  I wasn't planning on the mirror and it threw me for a loop.  v.

http://www.amazon.com/Storm-Chaser-Valerie-Gaumont/dp/0964167441/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1266448729&sr=1-1

Keeper: Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Jamie penned the invitation to Burr Alverson feeling a little odd with the wording. After all he didn’t normally invite people over for tea. He shook his head at the odd turns just a few days had brought. Jamie went down to the front hall and placed the invitation in the outgoing tray, asking House to deliver it as soon as possible. Before heading to the storage rooms, Jamie swung by the little closet off the kitchen where Albe had stored various useful tools. There he picked up a crow bar. It had occurred to him that if the house had been destroyed, the older journals might have been as well. If not, there was a good chance they were stored in the crates littering the floor rather than on the shelves.



With crowbar in hand, Jamie returned to the store room. To his relief all of the rooms were in the same location. He had figured that if house could hide an entire floor it wouldn’t be above shaking out the floor plan. His first action was to scan the dates of the bookshelves. The oldest of the journals was 1824.



“Old,” he said to himself, “But not quite old enough.” Jamie looked over the crates and decided to start with the ones closer to the back, reasoning they had probably been among the first added to the room. The physical action felt good. For most of the day he had been someone to be protected. He was sent out of the way and had to stand by while others took risks. It was not a feeling that sat well with him. He chuckled at the thought. For much of his life it had been the other way around. His mother was the china doll that needed to be protected and his brother always shunted work off to him. There had been many times when he had wished the positions reversed, that someone would look out for him for a change.



“Careful what you wish for,” he muttered as the nails shrieked their protest at his removal of the crate’s lid. The crate seemed filled with the type of packing material Jamie always associated with pencil sharpeners. They were thin strips of brown but no accompanying led smell greeted his nostrils. Jamie shifted the top layer around a bit, not really wanting to shove his hands into a box filled with unknown contents. No objects surfaced from the depths.





“For all I know this is where one of my relatives decided to store their knife collection,” Jamie said picking up the top layer of packing material and putting it on a second crate nearby. He peered in but couldn’t see anything. “Maybe they also kept pickled brains in here so that when the zombies came for tea there would be something to serve. “I wonder if you serve that with crackers like pate or if you carve it up like a roast?” Jamie pulled the second layer of packing from the box and peered inside. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a distorted face stared back. The packing material he had been holding scattered on the floor. Jamie took a deep breath and let it out slowly.



“I was just kidding about the zombies,” he muttered. Slowly he leaned over the crate again. Once again a distorted face greeted him. Jamie rolled his eyes at his own behavior and reached into the depths of the crate, pulling the object with him. Instead of a zombie head he found himself looking into a mirror. Half of the mirror had become distorted though, explaining difference in appearance.



“Unless I have suddenly become a lot more hideous and Del forgot to tell me.” Jamie studied the mirror for a minute, the bent shape somewhat fascinating him. It wasn’t terribly ornate and probably wouldn’t have had much of a decent reflection had it not been distorted. The frame was of a simple tarnished silver with no designs carved into it and the glass had lost some of its silver and showed the metal in places. There were age spots darting across one corner looking a little like an old man’s liver spots. Over all it was not a terribly large size, being about a foot wide and two feet tall.



“If I’m holding it right,” he mused. It was the distortion that gave Jamie pause though. It looked like it had been melted by intense heat from behind. Jamie flipped the mirror over but there was no sign of fire damage on the back. The metal was smooth with no bubbles, caving, or scorch marks. “Odd,” Jamie said. “It looks like the heat came from behind. He flipped the mirror over again so he was facing the reflective side but almost dropped it when he looked at the reflection. This time it was not his own face reflected but a landscape.



“Okay this is obviously not a normal mirror,” he said to himself trying to calm his racing heart. “I’m not sure how many more surprises I am ready for.” He let out a deep breath and looked at the image. There was something vaguely familiar about it. He blinked hard and sat down hard on one of the crates when he realized it was the front yard of Albe’s house. The view of the mountains was nearly identical to that of the view from Albe’s large bedroom windows. There were a few differences though as Jamie pulled his eyes from the back drop and into the foreground. Instead of the house he know stood in there was a large hole that looked like it had been blasted out of the earth. Smoke was still trailing in wisps from it in places. All around the hole were chunks of stone. Jamie’s eyes narrowed as he realized the rocks seemed to have been thrown away from the hole. Most of them showed signs of charring and nearly all of them were cracked and broken.



“Maybe that was the first house,” Jamie said. “I wonder if that was the basement or if the explosion caused the hole?” As he watched rain began to fall from dark clouds he had not even noticed. Somewhat shaken, although he could articulate why, Jamie put the mirror down on one of the crates and stood back up. He looked into the crate, hoping someone had thought to include some form of explanation. Nothing but packing material remained. He turned back towards the mirror. It now reflected nothing more than a distorted view of his own face. Jamie quickly placed the mirror back in the box and put the packing material over it. He put the lid to the crate over it but because of the pried up nails it would not fasten securely. Jamie looked at the sides of the box but found no markings to let him know exactly what the mirror was. He took a sharpie from his back pocket and in one corner of the box he printed in block letters, Mirror, half melted. He recapped the sharpie and tucked it back in his pocket, unsure what else to add. Somehow creepy and disturbing didn’t seem like good words to add to an inventory.



“Inventory,” he repeated out loud. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He knew the inventory listed the journals as being in Storage room three. He could also read through the list and see what else was listed in that room. Jamie glanced around at the other boxes. He felt something like a chicken but after the mirror had a slight aversion to opening any more of the crates without some form of warning. In his back pocket his cell phone began to ring. He jumped a bit before remembering he had tucked it there after his abrupt conversation with his mother. Wondering if she had decided what form her revenge would take, he pulled the phone out. To his surprise, he saw Jim’s name on his caller ID.



“Hello,” Jamie said answering the call.



“Jamie,” Jim replied, “Are you all right?” Worry was etched in the words.



“I’m fine,” Jamie replied with a frown. “We had some trouble earlier but at the moment things are calm. Why?”



“I heard about some of your earlier trouble,” Jim replied with a short bark of laughter. “I’m pretty sure everyone has at this point.”



“Really?” Jamie replied. “I wouldn’t think this sort of thing would be reported.”



“Reported?” Jim said puzzled. There was a stretch of silence and then Jim laughed. “No it wouldn’t be reported it is just gossip among a certain segment of the population. But boy are rumors flying. Did someone really try to kill you?”



“Unfortunately yes,” Jamie said. There was a moment of silence.



“I was hoping that part was mere gossip.”



“All good gossip is based on fact,” Jamie told him.



“I suppose so,” Jim said. “Wow. That does explain why things have gotten a bit stirred up.”



“Word travels fast.”

“Especially when it is the High Talbot looking for someone who tried to kill the Keeper.”



“You know about this Keeper thing then?” Jamie asked, intrigued.



“Only a little,” Jim confessed. “Our family practice specializes in those with more esoteric legal concerns.”



“Like how to legally pass as human when you aren’t?” Jamie asked with a smile.



“And how to create a secondary identity so that when you have lived a normal span you can appear to die and leave your wealth to yourself in your will.”



“I suppose that would get complicated.”



“It does go a bit beyond what I was taught in law school,” Jim said. Jamie could hear the man relax a little as he spoke. “Look I know you were planning on meeting with some of your great uncle’s friends next week but with all the rumors and things flying around some folks are getting a bit jumpy. Would you mind meeting a bit earlier?” Jamie ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy breath.



“I suppose that would be fine. I may be having someone over for tea at 4 but other than that the day looks clear.”



“Tea?” Jim sounded amused. “Interesting. I’ll let people know. Thanks. And keep yourself safe. Call if you need anything.”



“I will,” Jamie said. The call ended and Jamie once again ran his hand through his harm, wondering what he had just agreed to. He eyed the opened crate while he tucked his phone back in his pocket. “I suppose I better tell Del to get ready for visitors.” Unsure how the brownie would feel about company, Jamie left the store room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Keeper: Chapter 18

Thought for the day: Expensive hotels that charge you an hourly rate for the internet make themselves look cheap.  Sorry for last weeks outage.  I was traveling without regular internet access.

Chapter 18

Jamie flipped through the pages of the book with one ear listening for Del’s footsteps. His ears strained and all he could hear was the beat of his own heart. His wondered what he would do if Del didn’t come back, if there were something nasty in the basement that Del couldn’t handle. Not much of what Jamie saw in the book processed and he shut it with a sigh realizing he would have to read it later if any information would have been taken from it. He looked at his half eaten plate and pushed it away, his appetite gone. Finally he heard footsteps heading back towards the kitchen. He braced, on the off chance it was something nasty from the basement, but relaxed when he recognized Del. The tension came back full force when he caught sight of Del’s expression.



“You found something,” Jamie said. It was more of a statement than a question.



“Yes,” Del confirmed. Jamie noticed Del had something in his hand. It was wrapped up in what appeared to be a handkerchief.



“Is that it?” Jamie asked, surprised at how ominous the small bundle seemed.



“It is,” Del said. “I found it in a crack in the basement floor, half buried in what would have been the old basement. It has one of the architect’s signatures on it.”



“Really?” Jamie said. “He signed it?”



“It is a delicate piece of work. He might have been proud of it,” Del said with a shrug. “And he also might not have realized how it was to be used.” Del thought about it for a second. “Or it could be that someone else signed his name.”



“Which architect?” Jamie asked.



“Burr Alverson.”



“Wasn’t that one of the business cards in the dish?”



“It was.”



“Perhaps we should have Mr. Alverson over for tea,” Jamie said.



“Might not be a bad idea.” Both of them looked at the wrapped parcel in Del’s hand. “Perhaps I’ll just put this somewhere safe until Mr. Alverson can have a look at it.” Del walked over to the sink and pulled a metal box out from the cabinet beneath. One handedly he opened the box and Jamie could see old rags stuffed inside. Del placed the bundle in with the rags, shit the lid and put it back under the sink.



“That should do for now,” Del said. He straightened, turned on the tap water and began to vigorously wash his hands.



“What exactly was it?” Jamie asked.



“No clue,” Del said. He squirted more dish soap on his hands and lemon scented bubbles coated his arms up to the elbows. “I’m not one for any of the high magic and that,” Del tilted his head, indicating the hidden bundle. “That is some high magic indeed.”



“That should make tea fun,” Jamie said. “I’ll send out the invitation tonight. You mentioned that the High Talbot sent word that he found something?”



“I did,” Del said, finally rinsing off the bubbles, turning off the water and reaching for the towel. “Apparently our earlier visitor was found although he was apparently in a less…pristine condition.”



“Oh?” Jamie said thinking of the High Talbot and his need for cleanliness. “His cross country run didn’t suit him?” Del snorted.



“Obviously not. The man was dead.”



“Dead?” Jamie repeated, all humor draining out of him. He sat back down in his chair at the table and Del resumed his own seat in front of his half eaten dinner. Neither of them looked at the plates.



“Apparently that green snakelike thing managed to catch up with him.” Del began. “The thing appears to have strangled him.” Jamie swallowed hard. “There is good news though.”



“Good news?”



“Yes,” Del said. “There are signs that after the deed was done the magic dissipated.”



“That’s the good news?”



“Well it means it isn’t going to double back here and come after you in the night.”



“That is very good news,” Jamie said. He had the feeling he was in for a few nights of nightmares featuring strangulation by green snakes made of smoke. It was not a pleasant thought.



“There is more.” Del looked to Jamie as if wondering if he was up to more. Jamie nodded.



“Might as well tell me,” Jamie said. “It’s not like I can get out of it.”



“Upon examination apparently the man wasn’t really a man. Or at least not a human one.”



“He looked human,” Jamie said. Del nodded.



“Of course he did. He’d have to if he expected to pass as Keeper even for a little while. The Keeper is always human.”



“Why?” Jamie asked.



“What?”



“Why is the Keeper always human?”



“Dunno,” Del replied. “Maybe so you don’t pick sides.”



“So if he wasn’t human what was he?” Jamie asked letting the question of the Keeper’s humanity slide for the moment.



“Some sort of goblin with a fake shell over him.”



“Some sort of goblin?”



“The High Talbot had never seen that particular type before. He had no clan markings or house delineation. His features were strange. Might have been some kind of half breed but no one could make out what kind.” Jamie caught the thread of worry running through Del’s voice.



“I take it this is unusual?”



“Unusual?” Del snorted. “As it has never happened before you could say that.”



“And the human like shell?”



“Also something the High Talbot had never seen before.”



“I see,”



“No you probably don’t,” Del corrected. “The High Talbot sees nearly everyone in nearly every cross section of every community. He is up on the spells and who is experimenting with what as there are permits for things like this. And he has never seen anything of this nature.”



“Oh,” Jamie said. “There are permits?” Del frowned at the question.



“Of course,” Del said “There are rules.”



“Is anyone working on something that would be similar to one of the permits but not quite?”



“What do you mean?”



“Well if you were going to make a type of human suit then you would probably need a certain set of supplies right?” Jamie said, his own brain trying to reject the idea of making a human suit in a backyard workshop.”



“Yes,” Del said.



“Well if I were going to do something like that and I knew that I needed a permit for any experimentation but didn’t want to let anyone know what I was making I would apply for a permit for something that used more or less the same components so it would still look like I was making what I told everyone I was making. That way I could do what I wanted but no one would know.”



“That is a very sneaky thought,” Del said after a moment of silent contemplation.



“I had to learn to be sneaky as a kid,” Jamie said. “Not that I know how to make a human suit of course.”



“Of course not,” Del said. “It would take high magic as well as a lot of medical knowledge and someone who would have probably used something stronger than rubbing alcohol when torturing someone for information.”



“Don’t knock the rubbing alcohol, it got results.”



“True,” Del replied. “And come to think of it, that was pretty sneaky too.”



“I try.”



“I’m sure the High Talbot will be looking through permits as well.”



“Because he is sneaky too?” Jamie asked.



“Very. He is sending the image of the goblin kin to all of the clans to see if he can be identified or if any other information can be found. I don’t think he likes the thought of not knowing something.”



“I can sympathize with that,” Jamie told him. He looked at the cold remains of dinner. His appetite still had not returned. “I think I’m going to see if any of the journals date around the time the last house was destroyed and then spend some time going through the book on the House.”



“Don’t forget to send the invitation to tea,” Del reminded him.



“I’ll do that before I head to the storage room. I shouldn’t be on that floor more than an hour or two. Then I’ll probably just be in the library after that.” Jamie replied. He didn’t want to worry Del too much in one evening.