For Centuries More

by Ethan Johnson

  Tobias clapped his shoulder again, then gave him an odd smile. “It shall be so. I wish to see my kingdom from afar.”

  Inanna turned ashen. “Afar? My brother, have you not seen enough? Poor Marc is tired and craves his rest.”

  “Silence. Marc has offered to show me anything I wish to see. I will see it from afar. Only then will my mind be at ease.”

  Marc shrugged. “It’s no problem, but how do you propose we do that?”

  “We shall go to the highest place.”

  Inanna threw herself to the ground and clutched Tobias’s ankle. “Please, brother, do not take my Marc away to Mount Duhok, I beg of you.”

  “I think he means the tower roof.” Marc gave Tobias an expectant look. “Right, your majesty?”

  Tobias considered this and nodded his approval. “Yes, we shall go to the tower. I have not been there in many days. We will go there now.”

  Inanna squeezed Tobias’s ankle tighter. “No, I forbid it, my brother. You shall fall and perish. What is a kingdom without its king? I will go in your place, and I shall tell you truly what I have seen.”

  “Pah! Enough of this. I am king; you shall not forbid me from traveling as I please. I fear no wind, and no height. I shall see my kingdom from above and see the truth of it with my own eyes.” He pulled free of Inanna and stepped away. “Come, Marc. We shall go.”

  Marc looked down at Inanna and shrugged. “I’m sorry. I have to do what he says.”

  Inanna curled her lips and snarled at him. “We all have our part to play,” she said. “Guard well the king. He must not fall.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Marc said. “See you soon, okay?” He gave Inanna a quick peck on her cheek and led Tobias away. Inanna sat upright on the bare floor and scowled at them.

  “Yes, my silly Marc,” she hissed. “Soon.”

  CHAPTER 63: REVERSAL OF FORTUNE

  Gracie returned to her apartment to find her oldest sister pacing back and forth in the living room with her cell phone pressed to her ear. “Chelsea, please reach out to Dr. Howell and ask for a referral in the Chicago area. He’ll surely know someone we can trust. Keep it discreet. It’s concerning my sister Agnes. No, the other one. Please, quickly.” She looked up and lowered her cell phone from her mouth. “Oh, you’re back. Agnes hasn’t come home.”

  Gracie tossed her keys onto her dining room table and slammed the front door behind her. “Goody for Agnes.”

  Jacqueline raised the phone to her mouth. “Yes, call me right away when you have some names. Remember, keep this quiet.” She terminated the call and let her arm hang loosely beside her as she clutched the phone. “As someone who has moved halfway across the country to share an apartment with her, I would expect you to show a bit more concern.”

  Gracie glowered at Jacqueline. “She’s fine. I’m fine too, by the way. Me coming home at 10 in the morning on a weekday is completely normal. No need to be alarmed.” She stomped into the kitchen and tore into a candy bar.

  Jacqueline tipped her head. “I assumed you came home to look after your sister.”

  Gracie washed her candy bar down with a Blast One cola and let out a long belch. “You assumed wrong. I got fired, okay? Thanks for sticking your stupid nose in our business. I assume you’re going to float me a few thousand bucks until I can land another job.” She flopped down on the sofa and cradled her soda can in her lap.

  “You were terminated? On what grounds?”

  Gracie took another swig. “On the grounds that I can’t get personal calls at work.”

  “That’s ludicrous. Did you explain it was a family emergency? Maybe if I vouch for you, they’ll reconsider such a drastic step.”

  “Don’t bother. It’s pointless. They don’t like me, and they think I’m a total screw-up. I’m probably going to move back in with Mom and Dad. Maybe I can beg Warren for my old job back.”

  “I recall you strongly disliking your old job. And Mother tells me she turned your room into her crafting space. She is taking up beading, if I understand correctly.”

  Gracie huffed. “I strongly dislike every job. But until I strike it rich or find a lesbo billionaire, I’m stuck in the salt mines like everyone else.”

  Jacqueline grimaced. “I trust your… significant other won’t appreciate such sentiments. Work can be fulfilling, you know. It’s all a matter of finding your passion and aspiring to excellence in your chosen field.”

  Gracie twirled her finger. “Ooh, meetings, I’m so passionate.”

  “This is beside the point. I asked you where Agnes went before someone came on the line and rudely hung up on me. Perhaps it’s best you got clear of that toxic environment. They seem like a poor fit. I feel you’d thrive in a supportive workplace. Anyway. Agnes: where is she?”

  “How the hell should I know? I don’t keep constant tabs on her.”

  “She is not well. Once my assistant calls me back with some names, I’ll set up an appointment for her to get checked out. It’s fortunate I happen to be in town.”

  “That’s you, Fortune. Always looking out for the little guy.”

  “Family is important to me, Lauren. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

  Gracie chuckled derisively. “Yeah, but whose family?” She finished her soda with a satisfying burp and set the can on her coffee table.

  Jacqueline stiffened. “I have made it abundantly clear that I am here for all of you. You, Agnes, and Marc. Two of which are unaccounted for. If anyone is showing an appalling lack of concern for her siblings, it’s you.”

  Gracie stood up. “Well, I guess that makes me a royal screw-up then. I’m going to go crawl under my bed and die now. Goodbye.” She stormed out of the room and slammed her bedroom door. Jacqueline sighed and started after her. She was stopped in her tracks by her cell phone.

  “Hello, this is Jacqueline. Yes, I can hold for the doctor. Thank you.” She looked at Gracie’s bedroom door and felt a pang of guilt, then turned away. “Hello, doctor. No, I appreciate your assistance on such short notice.”

  After taking down a few names and numbers in her planner, she thanked the doctor for his time and terminated the call. She set her cell phone down on the dining room table and took a deep breath. Marc was still missing, Agnes was ill with an undiagnosed malady, and Lauren—she corrected herself internally and forcibly substituted Gracie–was freshly unemployed and choosing to wallow in negativity rather than formulating a winning strategy for improving her standing. She sifted through motivational sayings and productivity boosters she picked up over the years. Five Star Sigma? Too complex. GTD? Perhaps, but Gracie wasn’t one for writing out lists. Maybe a few choice Zig Ziglar quotes?

  Jacqueline shook her head and employed a strategy of her own creation. She pushed Gracie’s door open and stood over her. “Get up.”

  Gracie pulled her pillow over her head. “Piss off, Fortune.”

  Jacqueline pulled the pillow away. “I said, up.”

  “Aaaah! What the hell, Mom? Go away. Out of my house.”

  “It’s not your house. If you expect me to pay your bills while you sit on your ass, it’s my house. And since it’s my house, you’re living under my roof, with my rules.”

  “Bull,” Gracie said, and stuck her earbuds into her ears. She raised her phone to make a music selection, but Jacqueline snatched it out her hand.

  “This isn’t yours.” The earbuds popped out of Gracie’s ears and dangled over the floor as her sister held her phone away from her.

  “Give it back,” Gracie said, sitting upright.

  “Earn it back. You want this? Get a job. Earn money like the rest of us.”

  “Agnes doesn’t.”

  “And I will have that conversation with her once she has recovered from her illness. You, on the other hand, will not spend precious daylight simpering in your pig sty of a bedroom when there is work to be done.”

  Gracie’s ears turned red as she leapt to her feet. She tussled with Jacqueline for her phone. Jacqueline in turn s
taved her off and taunted her by keeping the phone tantalizingly out of reach. Gracie jumped up. “Give it.”

  Jacqueline pushed her backward onto her bed. “If you have this much energy to fight with me for your phone, you can be productive. How did you find the job at the supply company?”

  “I don’t know, Jobs-O-Rama or something. Who cares? That was the best ad of the bunch, and you see how well that turned out.”

  “Is that the only job listing service in Chicago? What about employment agencies? What about contacts you have made locally?”

  Gracie grimaced at her. “Contacts? What the hell kind of corporate nonsense are you spewing now? If by ‘contacts’ you mean ‘friends,’ well, I’ve only got one.” She flopped backward on her bed and let tears stream into her hair.

  Jacqueline tossed the phone aside and put her hands on her hips. “Your friend seems nice. I doubt very much that she’ll be impressed with… this.” She made a sweeping gesture with one hand. “She doesn’t strike me as having much interest in losers.”

  Gracie sat upright. “What did you just call me?”

  “I called you a loser, Lauren. Because that’s what you are. You didn’t get fired because I called your office phone. You aren’t the least bit interested in Marc or Agnes, and you only talked things out with me because your friend forced you to. Instead of bouncing back from being terminated, you headed straight for bed, intent on frittering the day away. And the next. And the next. That’s what losers do. Am I wrong?”

  Gracie trembled as an adrenaline spike coursed through her veins. “Get… the hell… out of my life.”

  Jacqueline tossed her head back and gave her a wry smile. “Ah, now you’ve checked all the boxes. Pushing people away instead of facing up to your own shortcomings. Loser it is.” She turned and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her with a loud click of the latch.

  CHAPTER 64: REVELATION

  Agnes entered an office that featured strong wood and leather accents. Various objects and artifacts stood on display throughout the room. An oversized mahogany desk stood toward the back of the office, centered and anchored with a plush leather chair. The similarity to Henry Steele’s office was unsettling, but also sad, she felt. It was clear to her this was the model for Henry’s office. Unlike Henry’s, however, she noted the objects and artifacts appeared to have legitimate historical and spiritual significance.

  She felt a catch in her throat as a bearded man dressed in a fine suit entered the office from a side door, as a judge ascending to the bench from his chambers. He looked up and let out a startled gasp at the sight of her. How like Henry he looked, she thought. “Ah! Hello, my child,” he said warmly. “I wasn’t anticipating any visitors. I don’t believe I had any appointments for another hour or two. Has the time flown by so quickly today?”

  Agnes smiled and shook her head. “I don’t have an appointment.”

  “Ah! Yes, well… perhaps I can spare a moment for you. I don’t recall meeting you before. I am Horace Steele. I’m the overseer of Eddington Manor. And you are…?”

  “I was once a student of your brother’s.”

  Horace paused and looked troubled. “Ah, I see. Perhaps we should sit.” He gestured to one of the guest chairs and sat behind his desk. His chair creaked and groaned as he settled in. “Henry. A fine man. But not without… limitations. You have come here to further your spiritual enlightenment.”

  Agnes shook her head. “I have come to enlighten you.”

  “Oh? How very curious.” He eyed her for a moment, then cleaned his glasses with a silk cloth. After confirming their clarity, he slipped them back on and clasped his hands together. “I am intrigued. What do you wish to tell me?”

  Agnes reached across the table and motioned for him to take hold of her hands. He pulled away. She gave him a reassuring smile, and he acquiesced to her request. As his hands joined with hers, she said, “I have nothing to tell you. I have something to show you.”

  Black smoke swirled around them. As it dissipated, Horace and Agnes observed the countess attempting to compel Agnes to turn an ordinary brick into gold. When she refused, a young woman entered the room brandishing a gun. Agnes in her physical form changed. Her eyes grew darker and her voice became resonant as Image spoke through her as the contents of a silver pitcher vanished and the young woman collapsed to the floor, clutching her belly in agony. They watched as Agnes departed, the paramedics arrived, and finally, Henry Steele returning to his manor to find the countess putting on a show of false outrage. Horace was stunned at the sight of it.

  They floated into Henry’s office and saw the countess stab him with a letter opener and leave him to die. Horace heard her final instructions to Stanley, Henry’s butler. He felt himself sickened with grief. His aura changed colors, and Agnes drew the scene to a close. Black smoke whirled around them once more, and Horace looked up at Agnes from across his desk.

  “Henry,” he said, his lips quivering and his eyes misting. “He’s gone.”

  “Yes,” Agnes said, and shifted to caress his thick hands. “Now you know the truth.”

  “How? How did you do that? It takes our master practitioners several hours to sufficiently raise the vibrations to conjure such visions. How can I trust what I have seen?”

  “What does your heart tell you?”

  He sank into his chair. He picked up a letter he wrote to his brother asking after his health and let it drop onto his desk with a sorrowful hiss of breath. “Henry is gone.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. He was a good man,” Agnes said.

  “He was, he was. He was a flawed man, to be sure, but he didn’t deserve such an end as that.” He stiffened in his seat. “That vile, wretched woman! I’ll see her put to death for this.”

  “You have every right to be angry, but hatred will only feed on itself. Follow the path of right action.”

  Horace nodded sullenly. “Yes, yes, of course. Right action.” He looked up at Agnes. “I have no idea what to do.”

  Agnes pulled her hands away and clasped them on her lap. “Ask for guidance.”

  “Yes, of course, guidance.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them with a start. “The police! This is a matter for the police. I shall call them at once.”

  “Very well,” Agnes said. “I must leave you now.”

  “Leave? But you’re my witness. I need you to tell the police what happened.”

  “You have witnessed by my side. You don’t need my assistance to speak the truth.” She rose and nodded, then exited the office through the front door. She closed it behind her softly. Horace watched her leave in stunned silence, then hurried after her. He called out as he looked in all directions for the young woman who had shown him the truth of the countess, and his brother. A member of the kitchen staff poked her head into the hallway.

  “Did you say something, Mister Steele?”

  “No, no. I thought I had a visitor, but I was mistaken.”

  “I hate when that happens. Coffee is coming right up.”

  Horace gave her a genial wave and retreated into his office. He waddled to his desk and picked up a vintage telephone handset from its ornate cradle. He dialed 9-1-1 with the rotary dial and waited. “Yes, my name is Horace Steele. I wish to report a crime.”

  CHAPTER 65: LAYOVER

  James stuffed a pair of socks into a duffel bag. He looked up to find Aubra standing in his room, giving him a stern glare. He found it off-putting, but after reading other signs in her posture and overall demeanor, he concluded she was merely waiting for Agnes. She didn’t have a wide emotional range, which was also unsettling.

  Aubra pointed to the bag. “You were instructed to change your clothes, not pack for a long trip.”

  James zipped the bag closed. “I like to be prepared. You never know, we might need this stuff.”

  “We never need stuff.”

  “Well, maybe this time, we do. Besides, they call Chicago the ‘Windy City’. I might need layers.”


  Aubra crossed her arms and stamped her foot. “Do only as you are asked.”

  “Well, you can take it up with Agnes, then, because she said to get ready. I’m getting ready. Prepared, even. What about you? You’re going to save the city dressed like… um, uh, a dress-up doll?”

  Aubra tipped her head and looked down at her clothing. “I like this dress.”

  “Yeah, well, when that Chicago wind blows it over your head and makes you a sitting duck, you’ll wish you had prepared better.”

  “I have faced greater dangers naked,” she intoned. “My dress is of no concern.”

  James cocked his head and processed this information. Greater dangers? We’re heading off to battle a freaking goddess!

  Agnes entered the dorm and closed the door behind her. “It is time.”

  Aubra turned to face her and looked her up and down. “James thinks we are underdressed.” She unfolded her arms and pointed to his duffel bag.

  “Yeah, well, as I was telling her, I like to be prepared when I travel to new places.”

  Agnes smiled at Aubra. “He does not know. Be patient with him. His bag won’t be a problem. Let’s be on our way.”

  James slung the bag over his shoulder. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

  Agnes closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, they were darker. She gestured to the door. “Through this door lies home,” she said, her voice resonant.

  Aubra reached for James’s hand, then took hold of Agnes with her other one. Agnes opened the door and the three stepped over the threshold.

  Their feet touched down onto beige carpeting in a sparsely furnished room. The shades were drawn, darkening the room but not completely. Sunlight flared around the shades like an eclipse. James gasped at the realization where they had gone. “Wow, it’s weird to be in here for real.”

  Aubra released their hands and looked around. “This seems adequate.”

  Agnes nodded. “I have no complaints. Rent isn’t bad for this part of town. My sister has a twenty-minute commute most days.”