“Oh, I know, darling, nightmares feel so real but trust me, no one's going to die. It was all just a dream, a very vivid dream.”
“No, but, I need—”
Gigi returned with Eugene who carried two mugs of hot milk. “Get settled, sweetheart, and I’ll hand it to you.”
Gigi crawled up beside me, folding her legs crosswise.
“Daddy even put a drop of honey in it,” she whispered conspiratorially. Marjorie overheard and winked at Eugene who was now leaning against the doorframe.
“Come on, Marjorie. Let's leave the girls to rest. They can switch the lamp off when they’re ready.” He smiled, wrapping his arm around her before padding down the hall.
Gigi snuggled closer. “Are you feeling better, sissy? Was your bad dream about spiders? I once had a bad dream like that.” Her eyes widened with fear, as if remembering.
I smiled and kissed her on the head, momentarily forgetting my own troubles.
“I feel better now. Let's go to sleep.” I tucked her in and closed my eyes, willing myself once more to forget the other girl's screams. Instead I focused on my ring. If Cullen had pulled it off as I was being pulled through then I needed to find Marjorie’s set, but where did she keep them?
As Gigi began to softly snore I felt the familiar spinning that preceded dream walking. I almost called out and would have woken her, but the whirlpool reached out and pulled me in. This had happened to me once before, while at work in the library. The Book of Rochus had beckoned me to it. Traces of gilt had twinkled along the edge, catching my attention as if the words were trying to flee from inside. One moment I’d been in the special collections room of the library admiring the book and the next, my world had spun, pulling me into a mirage of the past. There, the man, Rochus who had helped me to escape from 1857 had given me a message to return. This was definitely the book working its magic once more.
The dizziness subsided. I now paced in a cold dark cell, filled with a feeling of vague oppression. I looked out and saw a sexy blonde woman in a tight blue t-shirt coming toward me. The wide bottoms of her high-waisted denim jeans swished as she walked, and I felt the urge to see her ass. I wasn’t in control, once again only a ghostly bystander trapped in some vile pervert’s mind.
A prison guard with a black mustache led the way past a row of dark cells, his keys swaying with his movements, until he stopped and pointed. I drifted out of the shrunken form who was pacing to and fro. Now looking down from above, almost as if I were a camera coming into focus, I realized he was very old, and yet his thoughts conveyed someone who held all the power.
“Here’s your man: Eugene Breathour,” the guard said to the woman before moving on, leaving her staring at us through the bars.
“Do you remember me? Ann Switzer, from the Star,” she said, pointing at the work badge hanging around her neck. He leered at her chest and his thoughts flew into my head. Nice tits, a little small, but perky.
The look made Ann shift, and I forced my own mind to pull away from his. Her hair was dirty blonde and feathered out and I couldn’t help but wonder what the year was.
The old man ceased his restless pacing, and I allowed myself to lower to the ground so that I was stopped opposite him, standing between him and Ann. He stared straight into my eyes for a moment, and I noted a dark and familiar expression. This was not Eugene Breathour.
“I told you I won’t talk about my daughter, Zafira.”
“You mean, your supposed daughter. Fine, then let’s talk about what you were looking for, Mr. Breathour.”
“What?”
“You heard me. No more games. I know you weren’t after the girl. You were after what belonged to her.”
“Games? You know nothing of what you’re involving yourself in.” he said, turning away as though to signify that the interview was over.
“You were searching for the Purple Delhi Sapphire, weren’t you?”
He spun so fast, I thought his old bones would crack. “How do you know about that?”
“So, you’re ready to talk now?”
“Don’t toy with me, girl! You’ll get hurt.”
“Your threats are empty, and maybe I know where the Purple Delhi Sapphire is,” she said, crossing her arms.
“How? Who are you? Switzer, that sounds familiar.”
It sounded familiar to me, too. I racked my brain but nothing synced.
“It should, Velte.”
A cheshire grin spread across his face. “No one’s called me that in years. In here my name is Eugene.”
She flipped open a notebook. “Is that why you killed your brother—for his name?”
“How do you know this? No one knows.”
She hesitated for a moment as if savoring his discomfort.
“You told my grandmother, before you beat her to death.”
“Ah, that’s right. So you’re Emma Switzer’s granddaughter come to seek retribution. Named after her, even?”
“Something like that.”
“She was a stupid, naïve woman—and so are you.” He spat the venomous words, and Ann cringed as though he spat fire at her.
“Well, Velte, that stupid, naïve woman lived for three days and she told my mother everything you said.”
“So…” He paused and lit up a cigarette to consider the news.
“So, I’m going to write a book. I’m going to expose the truth about the Purple Delhi Sapphire, and I’m going to destroy that stone before it can curse anyone else.”
He laughed himself into silence.
Ann closed her notebook and swallowed hard. “I guess we’re done here.”
“That stone is from The Temple of Indra, placed there by the devil himself. It cannot be destroyed.” He paused, inhaling deeply. “That’s like saying you’re going to wage war against the god of war himself, Ms. Switzer. Is that what you’re doing here—declaring war?”
Ann shifted, but said nothing.
“Something like that could get you killed.”
“Well, maybe I’ll just give it back to him then. After all, it’s his curse—he can have it.”
“You may see it as a curse, but I disagree. It is a powerful tool destined to get me where I need to be.” He heaved on his cigarette. “My father tried to keep it from me, but he was too late.” Smoke tendrils swirled around him, winding in and out of his nostrils and mouth as if he was a dragon. “He said it was powerful and he was right. It spoke to me.” Velte laughed, holding the bars with his short, pointy fingers. “I know a lot about it—a lot that you don’t even know. I may look like I’m going to die, but I promise you my death is only an illusion. If you try to destroy the Purple Delhi Sapphire, I will destroy you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ring Me Back
I jerked up to a sitting position in bed, gasping, startled, and scared as I took a deep breath and reached for calm.
It hadn’t happened yet. I could and would stop it. I pulled the book from under the bed and flipped it open to page thirty-eight. It was blank. I checked the page before and the page after but there was nothing in between. The spell had disappeared. I’d used it up. Suddenly, words lit up the page, dancing in gold script:
Be sosa der hamin atashi taze.
Whoever is bad should burn in this glowing fire.
The words danced right off the page and lit up the air around me as if an invisible sparkler was writing them. And then, just as quickly, they were gone but I remembered them, remembered the line etched into the original Purple Delhi Sapphire. The dreams must have nudged my memory or maybe they just needed to happen in order for the spell to complete.
Leslie had been the one to uncover the spell late September last year. It had been written in esfand seed, an invisible ink that could only be released by heat. The last line had been missing, left off as a clue which I discovered after venturing back into the past. I could trap Velte now in the stone. If only I’d realized that last fall, I could have used it on my ex-boyfriend Nick and been done with all of t
his. I wasn’t just being harsh; many people disliked their ex, but mine had tried to kill me, which is how this whole journey through time began. If I’d used that spell on Nick the day Leslie showed it to me, I could have avoided this whole trip through the past, but then I would have missed this time with Gigi. Speaking of Gigi, where was she? I stretched and took hold of the sheets, ready to throw them back and face the day. As I moved my leg, something hard and cool grazed me.
Oh my goodness. My ring.
Excited, I yanked back the sheets to reveal one of the teacups from Gigi’s dollhouse that sat on a table in the corner.
Where could that ring be? The doorbell rang. I was still in my pajamas, and yet I couldn’t help but wonder who it was so I tiptoed to the top of the stairs.
The man standing at the door speaking to Marjorie appeared to be about thirty; he was tall with sandy-brown hair and was wearing a blue policeman’s uniform.
“Hi, Robert,” Marjorie said, seeming comfortable with him. “Did you want to come in for a coffee?”
“No. That’s alright. I’m just canvassing the neighborhood and thought I’d stop and see if you’d seen anything suspicious lately.”
Marjorie shook her head no. “Can you be more specific?”
“Well it seems your neighbor,” he said, handing Marjorie a picture. “Her name is—”
“Florence,” she said. “Yes, of course I know her. She lives next door. She used to work Saturdays for my husband at the store and she’s friends with Zafira.”
“She’s missing,” Robert said. “She never came home last night. Her mother came in this morning. Do you remember seeing her recently?”
“Not lately. Her and Zafira had a falling out.”
Marjorie leaned in as if she didn’t want to be overheard, and I had to strain to hear.
“She does go out often. Usually it’s later in the evening and, not to speak badly, but she’s dressed a little scandalous. She likes to go dancing like so many of the kids these days.”
“Is she ever with anyone?” he asked.
“Yes, she’s usually with the other girls in the neighborhood—I’m sure she’s with Marion or Deborah.”
“Well, hopefully she is,” Robert agreed. “But...we’ve had a few animals turn up dead lately in the neighborhood. So—” he cleared his throat “—we’re starting early with this one.”
“I see. I’m glad,” Marjorie told him. “Florence is a nice girl. Good luck.”
“Thank you. And if you can think of anyone else who might’ve seen her, please get in touch.”
I hurried back to the bedroom and dressed before returning to the top of the stairs; Marjorie’s voice wafted up from the kitchen. Now that I remembered the incantation, all that was left to do was find the Purple Delhi Sapphire. I tiptoed down the hall and into Marjorie and Eugene’s bedroom. Knickknacks and doilies covered the top of almost every surface but there was no longer an elephant-shaped jewelry box, only an empty rectangle lacking dust that marred the center. It was about the right size. Maybe Marjorie moved it after last night, fearing I would sleepwalk in search of it again.
Opening every drawer before trying the wardrobe—even pushing some of the clothing aside, I found nothing. That was it.
It was time to tell Marjorie the truth. There was no other way around it.
As I passed by the bedroom where I’d been staying with Gigi, I noticed a glass box, the top ajar, sitting on the dresser. Purple sparked from within. It couldn’t be? I ran to it, throwing the lid open. The ring glittered as if to wink at me. Relief flooded my veins, and I slipped it back on my finger. Gigi must have found it in the bed and hidden it.
Marjorie was just closing the oven door as I entered the kitchen.
“Zafira, you’re up. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Robert was just here, he was looking for Marjorie. Have you seen her?”
“No.”
“That’s what I figured. Here, take this bread and make yourself some toast, then you can clean the china and peel the potatoes. We’re having company for dinner tonight.”
“Who?”
“Oma and Opa. We’re going to surprise them with your uncle. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“About him… I need to tell you something.”
Marjorie’s eyes grew wide. “I knew there was something strange about the way you reacted to him yesterday. Did he say something to you in town?”
“He k-killed someone—a woman.”
She grabbed my shoulders.
“What? When? How do you know this?”
“I dreamed it.”
“Oh for heaven sakes, Zafira! You scared me. I thought you were serious.”
“I am serious. You have to believe me. He’s dangerous. He’s here looking for me—looking for the Purple Delhi Sapphire—and if I don’t stop him, then he’s going to kill us.”
“My jewels? Oh, honey. It was just a dream brought on by Opa’s ridiculous story, you can be such a silly girl.”
Marjorie’s eyes narrowed on my hand and she stopped smiling.
“Where did you get that ring?”
Glancing down, I gasped and quickly pulled the ring off. I hadn’t thought about that when I put it back on.
“Answer me, young lady! That’s worth a lot of money.”
I started to respond, but the doorbell interrupted.
“Oh good, Robert must have found Florence. Stay here. I’m not through speaking to you yet.” Marjorie rushed from the room and I heard her open the door.
Then I heard Velte say, “Hello, Marjorie.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tick Tock
There was no mistaking that voice. I stuffed the ring into my skirt pocket and rushed into the front hall to find the last person I wanted to see, looking very disheveled and extra ominous. Velte looked at me; his eyes were cool with amusement. “Perhaps,” he said, “it would be a good idea for you both to sit down.”
I crossed my arms stubbornly over my chest. “No, thank you.”
“As you like,” Velte said, dragging Marjorie by the arm and plopping her down on the sofa beside him. “But you are going to be hearing some things that might make you wish you had.”
“I'll be fine,” I told him.
“Very well. Can I get a glass of whiskey?”
“I think you’ve had enough,” Marjorie said.
“God, where is the hospitality around here?” Velte sat back, his hands behind his head. I stared at the right tail of his shirt. It was untucked and bunching and there was a dark red stain near the bottom. Blood? Whose blood?
“Mama, that’s a good idea. You should go get Uncle Velte some whiskey…”
He eyed me suspiciously and pulled a flask from the inside of his jacket pocket. “That’s all right. I’ll just help myself.”
There was a grim curl to his lips. He knows I'm Sophia, I thought. Somehow, he knows.
I cast another beseeching glance at Marjorie. She needed to get out of here. Gigi? Where was she?
His dark eyes met mine. “Well, my dear, shall we get on with this?”
I took a deep breath and darted up the stairs. I headed for Marjorie’s room, repeating the words be sosa der hamin atashi taze in my head. I couldn’t risk forgetting.
Panic seized my stomach.
Would it work with only my ring? It would be better to find Marjorie’s elephant box, and have all the jewels. The gem was still split and in different settings. What if it didn’t work at all?
Of course it would. No room for doubt. I continued my silent chant and made it to the top, turning to look through the banister. It had taken him a minute to run after me. Hopefully the booze was numbing his limbs and brain. I could hear Marjorie’s enraged footsteps and calls. She was giving chase like a feral beast ready to protect its young. I ducked in the doorway of Marjorie and Eugene’s bedroom, backing out of sight.
Heavy footsteps sounded as Velte bolted down the hall. Thank heavens the house was so
big—maybe he’d assume I went down the back stairs.
Marjorie on the other hand knew, somehow instinctively, where to find me. As she ran through the doorway, her eyes met mine; she was beginning to grasp the seriousness of the situation. The tears that I tried to hold back cascaded down my face. Marjorie clenched tightly onto me, as if her arms alone could take away my fear.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. He wants the Purple Delhi Sapphire to travel back in time.”
She pressed her finger to her lips, ignoring my claims, and herded me behind an oversized chair. The footsteps returned, and her hands trembled violently as she wedged herself in, enfolding and cocooning me.
His footsteps entered the room. Dry sobs racked her body, but no sound came out. He was looking for us, stomping and smashing at will. Then a porcelain bowl shattered against the wall. I squealed as the shards flew at us, feeling several pieces bite at my face. “Come out from behind that chair or I’ll pull you out!” he screamed.
Marjorie slowly stood, pushing me behind her. “What do you want?”
I peeked out, taking inventory: strewn clothing, ripped cushions. The flowers that had all been arranged in vases were now crushed into the intricate pattern of the Oriental rug. Where was that elephant box?
“I want the Purple Delhi Sapphire!”
Marjorie angled her chin toward her dresser. “The only jewelery I own is in the box.”
“What box?”
Marjorie looked back at me inquisitively. Then she marched to the dresser, pointing to the empty space. “The carved elephant, that was right here on my dresser. What did you do with it?”
My eyes went to the dresser.
“You’re lying,” Velte said and began ransacking the top drawer of her nightstand.
I stared. Even half-drunk and mad with rage, this man looked so much like Eugene. As if Marjorie could hear my thoughts, she picked up a picture that sat on her dresser and sobbed Eugene’s name. I wondered if she planned to throw it at Velte. This had to be so confusing for her. A twist of irony that this man’s mouth that screamed obscenities was identical to the mouth she loved.
Temple of Indra's Curse (Time-Traveling Bibliophile Book 2) Page 7