by Kate Baray
Sort of true. Jack hadn’t been able to grill Bob any further, because he’d been absent since last night. And as far as he knew, Bob didn’t have an actual conversation with the house—although it would be nice to know for sure. Any insight into the psyche of the pulsating magic mass would be just fine by him.
Kaisermann had drunk several mouthfuls of water and his color was returning. “And you think I can communicate with it when your expert couldn’t? I don’t see how.”
“It’s the family connection,” Marin said. “We did a little research on your family, and there’s a connection going back years between your family and houses much like this one.”
“You traced my family history? I don’t know about that—well…you said the house can’t be moved with this creature in it. What happens if I simply allow the city to demolish the house?”
Jack and Marin shared a glance. Time for the ugly truth.
“It’s possible—probable, actually—that there would be an explosion.”
Kaisermann laughed. “A magical explosion. You’re kidding me.” His eyebrows beetled together. “What exactly are you charging me to prevent this magical explosion?”
Marin gave Jack a subtle shake of the head, then said, “We understand your skepticism. Your evaluation fee will be sufficient. Given the nature of the problem and the far-reaching effects destroying the house would have, a private organization has stepped forward to absorb any costs.”
“That seems very irregular.” Suddenly Kaisermann lowered his head and covered his eyes with his hand. When he looked up, he gave Jack a weak smile. “Ridiculous. We’re talking about magic. It’s not like I can get a second opinion. And I know, in my bones I know, there’s something not right about that house.”
Marin wrinkled her nose. In a quiet voice, she said, “If it makes you feel any better, there’s solid evidence to suggest your house is a refuge of sorts. That the inhabitant might have a fundamentally benevolent purpose. It probably played a part in keeping someone safe from a truly terrible magical event.”
A rather generous interpretation of the minimal facts thus far gathered—but Jack wasn’t shy of a little spin, and he nodded agreeably.
“Well, if the thing is so benevolent, it would be neighborly of it not to blast the neighbors before they have a chance to clear out.” Kaisermann pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose.
Jack debated correcting Kaisermann’s perception of the size of the blast—but what was the point? It wouldn’t go that far.
After all of the pallor and stress and sneezing, Jack wasn’t sure Kaisermann was up to a confrontation with his living house.
Kaisermann’s features hardened. “So how do I talk to this creature?”
Or maybe that was the real question.
Chapter Ten
After deftly avoiding the “how” question that Kaisermann had posed, Jack and Marin made arrangements to meet him at the house at two o’clock that afternoon.
That gave Kaisermann time to prepare himself to enter the house—something he was clearly reluctant to do. And it gave Jack and Marin a few hours to dig around for a viable method of communication between a human and a house. Jack wasn’t holding his breath.
After Kaisermann left, he and Marin had bounced around a few ideas. Thus far no brilliant revelations had been made.
“Do you think Penelope might give you some idea?” Jack rolled his chair back and propped his feet on his desk.
“We have a very specific kind of friendship—one that does not include me picking her brain.” Marin stretched out on the couch with her hands behind her head. “I doubt she’d know anyway. That’s not the type of information that interests her. The story behind a vase or a mirror—or a house—sure. Besides, she’s not currently available. She’s off on one of her treks—she calls them scavenges—and can’t be reached.”
“Just a thought. Any other ancient, freakishly knowledgeable resources we haven’t tapped?” As Jack spoke, an image of Joshua flashed through his mind. Which was profoundly disturbing. He didn’t know what Joshua looked like, because he’d never seen the dragon’s physical form. He couldn’t because Joshua’s physical form had long ago decayed into dust. And yet he saw a massive black dragon…and he knew it was Joshua. In his innermost self, he simply knew.
“Jack?”
Jack jerked himself back to the here and the now. A chill went down his spine. He was always here and now. He was no dragon, lost in the past.
“Jack!”
“What the hell?”
“You need to get some more sleep or something. You’re off your game.” Marin was still lounging on the sofa, but her cell was in her hand.
“I’m fine. What were you saying?”
“Just that Dad checked in with the IPPC librarian and they were working on it, but he’s not hopeful.”
Jack shifted his feet off the desk and picked up a pen. “Let’s consider the possibilities.” He tapped the pen on the blotter on his desk, then started to scrawl a few random thoughts.
“It helps if you say them out loud.”
Jack looked up from his short list. “Yeah, not sure about that. I’ve got Vulcan mind meld, pictures via telepathy, and genetic language.”
“Star Trek?” She might not have rolled her eyes, but he could hear the judgment in her tone.
“Are you kidding me? Star Trek is the answer more times than you’d think.” Jack considered his list. “Granted, probably not this time…but frequently.”
“And genetic language?”
“So, consider that there is a genetic component to the relationship between the Kaisermann family and the house. Why that family? Why one family?”
“Genetic language,” Marin said. “If there’s a genetic component and the Kaisermann family have some ability that isn’t readily recognizable by the rest of the magic community…”
“And that ability lets them communicate on a different level, beyond language.”
Marin raised an eyebrow. “That’s usually called telepathy, and dragons have that ability. If the house needs a telepathic connection to communicate, it could easily have reached out to Dad or me.”
“But what if you’re tuned in to the wrong frequency? The house is talking, but you’re not hearing.”
Marin sat up. “Oh. I never really thought about it, but Bob doesn’t exactly come across crystal clear. Maybe we have overlapping but not entirely compatible telepathic communication. But if Kaisermann has some latent ability, wouldn’t the house be reaching out to him?”
“Who’s to say it hasn’t? You saw his reaction when we said something had taken over the house. And he keeps saying that he feels in his bones that something is odd about the house.”
“Well, that’s the first question when we meet up. ‘Mr. Kaisermann, have you had secret dealings with the entity that inhabits your house?’”
Jack grunted. “I think I can manage a little more subtlety, thanks.”
“Sure.” Marin’s wide-eyed, unblinking stare said otherwise. “We should also talk contingency plan. If Kaisermann can’t reach out to the house, or he can’t convince it to retreat to the mantel and let us transport it somewhere safely away from civilization, then what?”
“Any chance you and Ewan could disappear the house, magical blob and all, into the in-between place? You took me there to escape a blast—would the opposite work?”
“My gut says that is a very, very bad idea—but I’ll ask Dad.”
Jack gave the various outcomes some consideration. “It’s possible we simply walk away from this meeting in a stalemate.”
“A stalemate at this point is a loss. We’re running out of time.”
Jack massaged the point where his shoulder and neck met. It seemed the pinched feeling kept getting worse each day. “Communicate with the alien being inhabiting the house, hope Kaisermann can not only speak its language but well enough to explain the situation, and pray it doesn’t hold the city of Austin hostage. Is it too lat
e to take a vacation?”
Chapter Eleven
Jack drove to their appointment with Kaisermann. He wanted steady nerves when they arrived, and Marin’s driving put him on edge.
Twenty peaceful minutes later, he pulled into the driveway. He shut the engine off then took a moment to examine the house.
“It looks so harmless.” Marin sat in the passenger seat, also staring at the house.
“Hell, for all we know, it is harmless. The place is supposed to be a refuge.”
“I’ve been wondering about that. A refuge for whom and from what?” Marin asked. “In every conflict, there are at least two sides. What’s the conflict and who chooses which side receives refuge?”
“Does it matter?” Jack asked. They were too far into this mess. It wasn’t like they could stop and evaluate the morality of dismantling a strategically important outpost…or a possible haven for an enemy…or an ally. The thought of an Austin post-magical apocalypse made his eye twitch and his neck hurt. “And maybe the house doesn’t take sides. If its magical signal jammer works indiscriminately, then there are no sides.”
“Switzerland, huh?”
“Let’s hope.”
Marin sighed. “It seems such a waste. As rare as these houses are, and the practical applications—”
“Which include being co-opted by the Coven of Light. Better it’s moved far away from a mainstream, well-populated area.”
Kaisermann drove up in an older silver Prius and parked next to the Range Rover.
“About that.” Marin opened her door. “We need the alternate house location from Kaisermann. And we should discuss whether IPPC should assume responsibility for the house.”
Jack suspected Kaisermann wouldn’t let go of his responsibilities so easily, however uneasily they sat with him. Jack exited the car and turned to greet Kaisermann.
He stood in front on his car, watching the house. “Still gives me the creeps, even after all these years. I can’t remember the last time I actually went inside the place.”
“About that…” Jack ignored Marin’s half-smile. “You say the house gives you a strange feeling. Is there anything specific you can point to?”
Kaisermann shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Mr. Kaisermann, if there’s anything, anything at all, that relates to the house that you haven’t told us, now is the time.” Marin gave him her best, most engaging smile.
When she kept the glowing eyes and teeth under control, she was a very attractive woman. And Kaisermann must have agreed, because he relaxed under the shine of her smile.
He gave Marin a rueful look. “Nightmares. Not for years, but all of a sudden they’ve cropped up again.”
“And how are these nightmares tied to the house?” Marin asked.
“Sometimes I’m inside the house, sometimes outside standing in the driveway looking at the house.” He paused and glanced at the house. “Like now.”
Suddenly Kaisermann stopped, distracted as Ewan and Heike pulled into the driveway.
“These are your experts? The ones with the organization that’s paying for this…this extermination?” Kaisermann seemed relieved to be interrupted—which made Jack all the more curious as to the nature of these dreams.
“Yes, that’s right.” As the couple exited the car, Jack said, “This is Ewan Campbell and his wife Heike.”
Heike and Ewan shook hands with Kaisermann but deferred to Jack for explanations. Jack figured less was more, and simply said they’d be helping. “Mr. Kaisermann was just telling us about some odd dreams centering around the house that he’s had over the years. Mr. Kaisermann?”
Kaisermann shuffled a step back from the group, then another. Jack didn’t think the man was acting consciously. Kaisermann started with some hesitation, but then the words flowed. Perhaps he was relieved to finally share the odd visions he’d lived with for so long.
“Wherever I start, I end up in the living room. The lights pulse on and off and there’s a thrumming vibration coming from the walls. I can almost hear—but not quite—something off in the distance. I feel like I should be able to hear…but I try and I can’t. Then I have this terrible feeling that I should be doing something. I’m so frustrated. And there’s this anger. And then it’s dark and I’m lost.” Kaisermann blinked several times. “That’s it.” He looked around at the faces of the four people who encircled him. “What does it mean?”
“Marin and I might have a theory.” Which Ewan and Heike would be hearing for the first time, since Jack hadn’t updated them. “We’re hoping the house is trying to communicate—just isn’t on the right wavelength. Or station.”
“I don’t want to talk to it—whatever it is.” Kaisermann backed another few steps away from the group.
Enough with the carrot; time for the stick. Jack cleared his throat. “Mr. Kaisermann, we’re expecting a large—no, a very large—explosion should this house be moved with its visitor still in residence. We don’t have much of a backup plan at this point,” Jack caught the slight tip of Ewan’s head—they did have a backup plan?—but ignored it for now. “So in order to prevent a potentially catastrophic event, we need you to at least try to have a conversation with the house.”
Kaisermann stood, stunned, in the driveway. Finally he said, “Aren’t you people supposed to be professionals? Why do you need me?”
Jack took a breath, about to spout some amazingly persuasive garbage—or not—but was interrupted when Marin touched his shoulder.
So he waited as Kaisermann stood in the driveway of the possessed house, eyes darting between the house, the paranormal professionals who couldn’t help him, and the street. Jack could guess exactly what the guy was thinking: face his nightmare, let the pros take care of the mess, or run.
At least that gave them a thirty percent chance. Math didn’t actually work that way—but that thirty percent lie let him stand here in the driveway and wait—rather than pressuring a guy who was already under too much strain.
Finally, Kaisermann said, “Yes.” His feet remained firmly planted—but at least he’d said the word.
Chapter Twelve
It was Marin who got Kaisermann into the house. After politely waiting for what seemed like several minutes, Marin looped her arm in his and simply walked up the drive.
She didn’t pause at the porch steps, and, since Ewan had the foresight to beat them to the door, it was open when she and Kaisermann arrived.
By that time, Kaisermann had acquired a much more purposeful step, and he surprised them all by passing the threshold ahead of Marin.
Once he was standing in the living room, Kaisermann said in a small voice, “It’s much more cheerful than the dreams.” He suddenly seemed old in a way he hadn’t before.
Jack hadn’t caught the nightmare quality of the man’s dreams as he’d relayed them. His recounting sounded slightly odd, but nothing about what Kaisermann had described seemed sinister.
But Kaisermann’s pallor and demeanor expressed exactly how frightening he’d found the dreams. Even now, as he commented on the cheeriness of the room, the man seemed to shrink in on himself.
Heike walked from the front door, across the room, to the mantel.
Kaisermann tracked her movements until a few feet shy of the fireplace and then his gaze skittered away.
“Mr. Kaisermann?” Heike said using the German pronunciation. “Sir?”
But Kaisermann seemed not to hear. He kept his head averted from the fireplace, as if he couldn’t stand to look at it.
Ewan moved into his line of sight. “Do you hear something?”
“No. No, nothing. I don’t hear anything at all.” With each pronouncement, Kaisermann’s voice rose in volume and he shook his head with increasing agitation.
Ewan approached the man and calmly but firmly placed a hand on his back. “You’re not crazy. Whatever it is, we believe you.”
Kaisermann calmed down a little and then made eye contact with Ewan. “You can hear
it too?”
“No, but I believe that you do. But I might be able to…” Ewan grasped the man’s shoulder with a firm, reassuring grip. “If you help me.”
Jack poked Marin in the ribs and then whispered into her ear, “Vulcan mind meld—Star Trek is always the answer.”
“Not remotely the same thing. Telepathy is easier if you’re touching,” Marin replied in a hushed voice, and then shushed him.
Kaisermann’s eyes widened. “Okay. What do I do?”
“Accept that it’s trying to speak to you.” When Kaisermann nodded, Ewan said, “And that it doesn’t want to hurt you.”
Kaisermann looked confused. “I’m not sure. I think she’s angry.”
Jack would bet cash that Ewan had gambled. And maybe he’d guessed wrong, but the gamble was a good one: the guy and house were talking.
In an even, calming voice, Ewan asked, “Do you know why she’s angry?”
Kaisermann’s eyebrows beetled and a tear rolled down his cheek. “Not angry, lonely.”
Jack had been watching Kaisermann and Ewan so intently that he’d missed Heike. But her movements flashed in the corner of his eye and he turned to find her at the mantel, running her hands along the wall, much as she had before.
Quietly, she said, “The magic is surging.”
Jack nodded. Whatever happened, they’d certainly awoken the thing by bringing Kaisermann here.
“Mr. Kaisermann!” Ewan shook the man’s shoulder.
Kaisermann’s distant gaze sharpened. “Yes. I’m here.”
“Can you tell her about the house? That we need to move it?” Ewan asked, his hand still on Kaisermann’s shoulder, but passive now.
Marin inched closer to Heike, moving slowly so as not to startle Kaisermann. She tipped her head at Ewan.
Was this the backup plan?
Just in case, stay close to Dad. He’ll get you out.