Chapter 8
As Jamie descended the stairs he realized his heart was
pounding, his pulse racing. The last
time he had encouraged the basement to communicate he had learned important
information, information he could not have found otherwise. He knew that House,
a dwelling that was fairly sentient, if somewhat obtuse, had the remains of the
former House of the Keeper incorporated into its foundations. He knew that
House was probably just as active as his was now and probably once communicated
in much the same manner. Now visual communication was all that remained. It all
sounded logical to him once he wrapped his head around the way things
worked. Somehow the talking House was
much easier to take than the basement that made him feel as though he had
stepped into the middle of an ongoing play.
“Admittedly a play that didn’t know I had showed up,” he
thought to himself, reaching the level surface of the basement floor. There was
something more, unsettling about watching the event the basement though he
needed to see.
Jamie moved to the center of the room and felt the air
almost grow thicker around him as though he had gotten the basement’s full
attention. Feeling somewhat foolish, Jamie cleared his throat. If anything the sense of waiting intensified.
“I don’t suppose there is anything you would like to tell
me?” he asked. It was as if someone holding their breath had just exhaled. Around him the stout stone walls
shimmered. The empty basement faded for
a moment, looking like a mirage. Jamie
blinked, feeling as though his vision had blurred. A moment later the world
seemed to solidify, only now instead of the mostly empty basement, Jamie was
looking into a bustling kitchen. A
brownie, dressed very much as Dell typically dressed, was moving around the kitchen. He gathered ingredients heaping them
seemingly at random into a large mixing bowl, occasionally giving the contents
a stir. Sunlight streamed in through an
open window and the curtains stirred in a breeze that smelled of
honeysuckle.
When the brownie turned towards Jamie, he could see not all
was sunshine and light. The brownie, who
Jamie recognized as Robin, was frowning, his eyes dark with concern. He gave the bowl a few extra stirs and
scattered a handful of flour across the table before turning the contents of
the bowl out. As he began to knead what
Jamie tentatively guessed to be bread dough, the door swung open.
“Still sulking Robin?” the man said.
“I’m not sulking, Keeper,” Robin replied, sounding quite
sulky. Jamie recognized the Keeper speaking although he was not as young as he
had been when he had the former House built, nor anywhere near as old as when had
it been destroyed. Both events oddly enough that Jamie had witnessed.
“No of course not,” the Keeper replied. He smiled wryly. His
humor faded as he settled himself at the table across from where Robin was
working. He stared at the industrious brownie for a moment.
“I know you do not approve,” the Keeper began.
“It is not my place to either approve or disapprove,” Robin
sniffed.
“Be that as it may,” the Keeper replied. “You opinion matters to me.” Robin seemed to
relax at the confession and he let out a deep sigh.
“It seems like borrowing trouble. Trouble seems to follow them, always has.”
“Which is not their fault, and why they most need our help,”
the Keeper replied, his voice still gentle. “Those capable of practicing human
magic have always been targets.”
“Sometimes they make themselves targets,” Robin grumbled.
“Sometimes,” the Keeper agreed. “And sometimes they just
lose control because they don’t know enough. We won’t be taking in those who
relish the causing of trouble. We will
however be sheltering those who want to learn control.”
Robin nodded. “So no trouble makers?”
“No deliberate trouble makers,” the Keeper corrected with a
smile. “I’m sure there will be some trouble, but at least here we can contain
it.” As Robin nodded, the Keeper looked thoughtful. “Besides, there is a rather
selfish reason for it as well as the altruistic one.”
“Oh?”
“Those who serve as Keepers need a touch of magic to them.
By working with those who show promise, we increase the available pool from
which the next Keepers will be born.”
“But I thought young Jonathan was to succeed you?” Robin
asked with a frown as he patted his dough into neat loafs.
“He is, but things happen and it is always good to prepare
for the worst,” the Keeper said. “Besides, I’m not the only Keeper who will
need a successor. Some of the others are
having trouble finding suitable candidates.”
“Are they?” Robin asked as he slipped the rounded mounds of
dough into the oven.
“Yes,” he was told, the Keepers voice sounding troubles. “Some
a very difficult time indeed. Stability is what we need, Robin. Stability to
hold back the howling wilderness as they say.”
Robin nodded and dusted off his hands. “Well then Keeper I’ll
accede to your wisdom. I think the east
wing would serve admirably for our guests.”
As they two discussed room preparations, Jamie noticed the
scene starting to fade. The image of the kitchen became semi-transparent,
gradually resuming its present day demeanor. He noticed the sounds of their
voices and the scent of honeysuckle and baking bread were the last to fade. Jamie
sighed, the waiting feeling had faded from the basement.
“So the former Keeper once took in those capable of doing
magic,” Jamie said to himself, wondering exactly why the basement felt it was
important for him to know that. “Um,
Thank you,” he told the basement before turning towards the stairs and climbing
back into the living room.
He closed and locked the basement door, wondering why the
basement had felt the need to communicate. “Maybe it is just lonely,” he
thought. “Maybe it just wants to be helpful.”
Jamie shook his head.
“And maybe I should find out more about human magic.”
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