Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Keeper 2: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The overly elaborate phrasing of the book followed Jamie into sleep, phrases circling in his mind in a repetitive loop. They started to fade as he drifted into dreams.  In his dreams he found himself standing at the open pocket door that divided the study from the library.  He was facing the desk in the study.

Jamie scanned the study, somehow knowing it was a dream, but not quite a dream.  There was a snap to the air, like an electric tingle of sorts.  It reminded him of the basement jet before it sent him images of a long dead Keeper or dreams of Albe’s teachings that had been sequestered away and had finally worked their way to the surface of his mind. He frowned, thinking something was different though. He stepped into the study , his eyes drawn to the desk.  On the surface of the desk he saw his notebook, complete with the list he had begun to make before Burr’s arrival. 

“Why would my notebook show up in a dream of the past?” he mused.  He blinked in surprise as he noticed an additional bullet point had been added to his list. “Study human magic,” had been added to the list, several books, listed alphabetically by author were placed below the bullet point.  The handwriting was not his, but it looked oddly familiar.

“I don’ understand why you couldn’t just leave well enough alone,” Jamie heard a voice say.  He turned in surprise to face the library.  In the library, a fire was burning merrily in the grate and he could see the tumble of his sneakers where they lay forgotten beneath the chair he had been reading in earlier.  Once again he had kicked them off as he read and abandoned them, despite reminding himself to be neater.  He knew Del was his housekeeper but her felt strange about leaving a mess for the brownie.

The thick tome he had been attempting to plow through, was no longer on the side table where he had left it.  That was not the only change, however.  Sitting in the chair he favored was a man with neatly combed hair, mutton chop sideburns wearing an old fashioned suit.  Or most of one anyway.  His jacket was flded over the back of the chair and his sleeves had been rolled up to his fore arms.  In one hand he held a brandy snifter, from which he would periodically sip.

Across from him sitting in what Jamie liked to think of as the guest chair, was a man similarly clothed.  He was however clean shaven, with a head of hair that looked like it was beginning to thin.  A pair of wire rimmed glasses was perched on his nose. His eyebrow was lifted as he stared at the other man.

“You know very well why I couldn’t just leave well enough alone, Edwin,” The spectacled man replied, neither man seeming to notice Jamie as he took a few steps towards them.  As he neared, Jamie noticed that the man with the spectacles held the pretentious tome and was slowly flipping through the pages, occasionally leaving a marker behind as if to mark a passage.  He shook his head in disgust. “Clearly this is the first time this book has ever been opened,” he told Edwin. “The pages are still clipped together from the printers.  I can’t believe you didn’t at least look it over.”

Edwin smiled. “You know I find it pointless, Reginald.”  Edwin took a sip of his brandy and then chuckled to myself.  “I mean Reggie,” he said. Reginald looked up from the book.

“I find that name to be a bit too familiar,” Reginald replied stiffly.  “And we’ll see how smug you are when the boy starts referring to you as Eddie.”

Edwin waved the comment off indulgently.  “Times change, old friend. It will hardly affect my standing in the social pages,” Edwin replied. “Besides, we’re all family aren’t we? At least that’s what you keep reminding me.”

“Nice to hear you acknowledge it, although one would never have guessed from the state of the family tree now would we? One would, if so inclined, believe you were ashamed of the connection.” Reginald replied stiffly.

“Now Reginald,” Edwin began, his good humor fading.  “You know why that was done.  You know why it had to be done.”

Reginald sighed and looked back to the book.  “Just as you know why this needs to be done.”

“The Keepers have no need to communicate with each other.  Each functions independently. I see no need to bother learning to use the visilore. It is a waste of time.” Edwin replied somewhat crossly.

“In our time perhaps.  But as you pointed out, Eddie, times change,” Reginald replied.  Edwin acknowledged the point with a lift of his glass.

Jamie took another step closer. “I don’t suppose you would care to just tell me how to use the visilore?” Jamie asked.  Neither man gave any sign that they heard him.  “Hello?” Edwin continued to sip his brandy while Reginald continued to mark pages.

“You couldn’t have at least broken the corner connections to make me think you had bothered to read the book that is the culmination of my life’s work?” Reginald asked crossly. Jamie was now close enough to reach out and touch Edwin’s shoulder.  He found himself unaccountably afraid.  Goosebumps broke out on his arms and he fought the urge to rub them as he extended his hand forward. His hand passed straight through Edwin’s shoulder as though he were not even there. Jamie pulled his hand back quickly.

His hand felt icy and tingly as though he had spent far too long outside in the cold without gloves and was only now beginning to thaw.  He rubbed his hand as his flesh warmed up and started to ache.

“I did quite well without magic of my own,” Edwin told Reginald, giving no indication that he had felt Jamie’s hand move through him at all.  Jamie took a step back.

“But you had the magic of others to rely on,” Reginald pointed out, still marking random pages. “And while you didn’t need the…shall we say overt magic that is like my own, you have used the magic of your office often enough. I dare say if you had a larger degree of magic in your blood you would find some way to make it useful.  You are quite adept at making excellent use of whatever tool comes to your hand.”

“My dear Reginald,” Edwin said with a laugh. “Was that actually a compliment?”

“Credit where credit is due,” Reginald replied, cracking a smile for the first time.

“Very well,” Edwin said.  “I suppose giving the boy another tool he can use if the need strikes would not go amiss.”

“So glad you agree to see reason,” Reginald replied. “This time.”

Jamie blinked and realized that the two men were growing indistinct. Before, he could see the texture of their clothing and could almost smell the air cream Edwin used to slick his hair in place.  To his eyes they looked solid and undeniably real. Now, he could nearly see through them.  They were fading, even as he watched, slowly moving to shadows, even though he could still hear them good naturedly bickering over who saw reason and when. Their voices remained a moment after their images had faded, as though he were listening around a corner to two people walking away from him. Gradually even that died off and Jamie was left alone in the library. All at once the fire died out.  Jamie shivered and woke, finding himself alone in his bed.

Jamie sat up in bed and looked around the room. He glanced at the clock and realized it was barely four in the morning.  Normally that would be far too early for him to rise, but he knew he wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep any time soon. Resigned to the early start to the day, and still turning the not quite dream over in his mind, Jamie got up, took a quick shower and dressed in faded jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt.  He slipped on a thick pair of woolen socks he found in his dresser drawer.  The socks were unfamiliar to him but he had noticed that as the weather outside grew colder, more and more knitted items were appearing.  Socks, scarves, gloves and sweaters had all started showing up in his dresser drawer. Del had looked uncommonly pleased whenever Jamie donned one of the new items so he didn’t question their arrival too closely.

Thus dressed, Jamie opened his door.  Remembering previous early mornings, Jamie glanced down the hall before stepping out of his room.  For a second, his eyes rested on the closed door to Albe’s bedroom.  The door remained closed, no ominous sounds emanating from the room behind it. Jamie relaxed and stepped into the hall. He walked to the study, reminding himself that House’s defenses were all operational.  While he mentally accepted this safety, the memory of the giant boulder splintering Albe’s bed still left him wary. 

In the study, Jamie pressed the button for the lights and blinked in the sudden glare as they came to life.  He looked around the room, noticing that nothing was out of place.  He walked over to his desk and found his notebook had been closed.  Jamie frowned, not able to remember if he had closed the notebook earlier or not.  He reached out and flipped the pages to his makeshift to do list.  There, just as he had seen in his dream, was the additional bullet point, complete with booklist below.

“Well that answers that,” Jamie said.  “Not just a dream then.”  He thought of  the book Reginald had been marking and, notebook still in hand, he walked over to the library.  The book was as he had left it, closed and sitting on the side table.  However, even from where he stood a few feet away, Jamie could see various markers protruding from the closed book.  He set his notebook down on the table and picked up the book.  He opened it to the first marker and saw that on that page a few paragraphs seemed to glow as though they were highlighted with light rather than a pen. Unsurprisingly, he found a mention of the visilore in the first sentence of the highlighted text.

“Not exactly a subtle hint,” Jamie said. “But I suppose I know what I’ll be doing until breakfast at least.”  Jamie took the book and his notebook back to the desk in the study.  He opened the notebook to a fresh page, took a pen out of the drawer and began to make notes as he read through the marked passages.

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