“Damn, it’s miserable,” I said, trying not to blush as she coyly eyed me. “What the hell is wrong with the weather?”
“The seasons are all wrong in the Nameless City,” Holly explained. “It wasn’t so long ago when it snowed on the foothills in Sarnath during summer…”
“Really?”
“…along with a winter when the Leng very nearly ran dry before it made it to the ocean. This isn’t so bad.”
I coughed, remembered at the last moment to cover my mouth.
“I don’t know. Last spring was rainy, but at least it warmed up.”
“Please. This is nothing,” she said, dismissing the clouds and chill with a gesture. “I remember a year when we had two winters. Two! Can you imagine?”
“No.” I did my best impression of gruff. “That’s impossible.”
“You have a very limited imagination, Preston,” Holly said, with a lascivious wink. “We should work on expanding your horizons, don’t you think?”
“Not at all. I’ve seen more than I wanted to already out of the Nameless City. Spare me any further weirdness.”
“You say that,” Holly said, squeezing my arm. “But I think you like it. Are all my little games really such a bother to play?”
“Your games?” I scratched my head. “I thought these were just the hazards of living in the Nameless City.”
“Same difference, Preston.” We jaywalked across one of the desolate side streets adjoining Leng. “Are you still feeling poorly?”
I considered it. The answer, as it had been for weeks, was ambiguous.
“Kinda. You know that April caught that thing that was going around…”
“I think that half of Carter caught it, honestly. Some kind of virus, the Professor said. Lost half of his class to the fever. Are you certain you should be out and about?”
“Like I said, I’m not sick yet,” I said, with a shrug. “Just dragging, bit of a headache. I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so,” Holly said dubiously. “I’m curious. What do you think of your newest neighbor?”
Leng Street crumbled from neglect and disuse. There were no other pedestrians, and the buildings on either side of the street were desolate tenements and vacant commercial properties. No one speaks of the incident that gutted the neighborhood, but it cast a long shadow. Even the homeless avoid the Empty District. Apart from the train station and an adjacent convenience store, the Carter Academy is our closest neighbor – and it’s a walk. We had to go most of the way to Ulthar just to do the shopping.
“You mean Yael?”
Holly nodded, but I didn’t need the confirmation. Until Yael Kaufman had moved in at the start of the year, April and I had been the new tenants. The Kadath Estates doesn’t see a great deal of unit turnover. Even Sumire Iwakura, having just graduated from Carter two days earlier, planned on holding on to her apartment, though vague proximity to the school was about the only thing the Estates had going for it.
“Smart kid,” I said, considering my response carefully. “Little nervous, maybe.”
“Those two do tend to go together,” Holly said, patting my forearm affectionately. “How does she get along with April?”
“Eh, okay.”
That was a lie, and chances were Holly knew it. She kept a careful eye on her tenants, and her relationship with Yael Kaufman predated her arrival at the Estates, so I found this line of questioning slightly frustrating.
Chances were Yael was fond of April. After all, April Ersten gets along with everyone. I doubt that April returned the favor.
“When I first met April, I thought that perhaps she and Yael could be friends…”
“That reminds me,” I said, helping Holly across a particularly treacherous section of pavement, slick with water dripping from a broken gutter overhead. “I meant to ask you – where do you know Yael from?”
“I’ve known Yael since she first arrived in the Nameless City,” Holly said, smoothly sidestepping my question. “We share a professional and a personal relationship.” Holly pinched my arm, smiling at me with violet-tinged eyelids. “A bit like you and I.”
I snorted, and Holly tightened her grip on my arm.
“She works for you?”
“On occasion,” Holly said, trailing her hand along the dusty cascades of dark green ivy that covered the partially collapsed building beside us. “Does that surprise you?”
“I guess. Yael seems a little prissy for that sort of thing…”
Holly laughed and entwined her fingers in mine. Despite her love for oversized, dangling earrings, Holly never wore rings. Her nails were long and carefully manicured, painted the color of brass by April a few nights earlier.
“You’re so judgmental, Preston,” Holly chided, the side of my arm brushing distractingly against her ample chest. “Do you really think so little of her?”
“It’s not that. She just strikes me as a bit of a good girl, if you know what I mean.”
Holly’s eyes overflowed with laughter.
“I doubt it very much,” she said, squeezing my hand.
“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” Holly didn’t bother to answer. “She just seems out of place at the Estates.”
“Don’t we all?”
I shook my head and mumbled curses.
“Just surprised you have work for her. I’d think your business would be out of her comfort zone.”
“Oh?” Holly glanced at me. “What do you think my business is, Preston?”
“Driving me crazy, apparently,” I grumbled, leading her across the parking lot to the convenience store. It wasn’t much, but I would be able to buy eggs, bread, and maybe even bacon. I might even return before the girls woke and went on a low blood-sugar induced rampage. “Your business is your business. I was under the impression that you pay me not to care.”
Holly released my arm and waited for me to get the recalcitrant door to the market.
“That’s not it,” Holly explained, as I followed her to the grocery aisle. “I’m just selective about what I share.”
I found a carton with twelve intact eggs on my third attempt. Holly poked at the slightly past their prime apples piled in a basket on the top shelve as if she were unfamiliar with and suspicious of the fruit.
“Fine with me.” I dug through the small freezer in the corner that held actual food, hoping to find an overlooked package of bacon. The much larger freezer in the center of the store was reserved for ice cream. “As long as I can make rent, I don’t much care about what it is you do, Holly.”
This was entirely untrue. Holly’s business was a point of more than academic curiosity. I made a mental note to talk to Dawes about it, sooner rather than later. Holly smiled at me, wiping a green apple against her deep blue sarong and then studied the result closely. I couldn’t find any bacon, but that might have been for the best, because I thought that April had told me that Yael was a vegetarian.
“You see! That’s what I like about you, Preston.” Holly slunk up next to me while I considered the drink section, trying to decide between orange juice and milk, and ran her fingers down my back. “One of the things, anyway.”
“Enough,” I growled, taking a liter of orange juice and a smaller container of milk from the glass case. “Is that all you needed?”
Holly nodded, and then followed me to the counter, where Elijah Pickman waited attentively. I dumped my groceries on the counter, then snatched the apple from Holly’s hand and added it to the pile, along with a braided length of teriyaki beef jerky that I strongly felt I deserved, as compensation for hosting a slumber party for three female students of the occult in a very small apartment.
“Good morning, Mr. Pickman,” Holly chirped. “How are you today?”
“Not too bad, Miss Holly,” Elijah said tiredly, looking harried. “And yourself?”
“I can’t complain.”
That was probably a lie, but I can’t prove it. To call Holly’s disposition sunny was probably an understatemen
t. With the exception of one particular neighborhood vagrant, Holly Diem only had nice things to say about everyone.
“Congratulations again on your graduation, Mr. Pickman,” Holly purred. “The Carter Academy is very prestigious. You must be proud.”
“I am,” he exclaimed guilelessly, picking up the scanner and manhandling my groceries. “My father went there, too, you know. And my grandfather!”
“I know. A great family tradition.”
“None of which explains why you are working at a convenience store the day after your graduation,” I grumbled. “Shouldn’t you be rich?”
Elijah’s face fell.
“My family has fallen on hard times, I’m afraid. I attended Carter on scholarship, actually. Working at the convenience store allowed me to buy books.”
Holly offered me a superior look as I winced.
“Eh. Sorry about that, Elijah. My fault. Grumpy before coffee, you know.”
“That’s fine,” he said smoothly, not entirely convincing me. “Where is April, by the way?”
“Asleep,” I said, shaking my head. “You wouldn’t believe how much she sleeps.”
“That girl reminds me,” Elijah began, pausing to invest a ridiculous amount of time and effort in clearing his throat, “of another girl.”
“Imagine that,” I muttered.
“Shut it, Preston,” Holly said sweetly, elbowing me in the side. “I want to hear the story.”
“This is a desert tale, from long ago.” Elijah sighed as if he had been there, staring off into the distance with my eggs in one hand, and the scanner in the other, flickering angular patterns of red light on the chest of his jumpsuit. His stories always started long ago. “The girl’s name was Dimah, for the rainclouds that annually marked the day of her birth. She was lovely, like April, with indigo eyes that saw things that no one else could. A timid child, whose family valued her oracular abilities, frequently called upon to give her blessing to the caravans that crossed the desert. The Bedouin would kneel before her in their robes and scarves, so Dimah could wet her forefinger in her mouth, and use her saliva to trace the outline of the Yellow Sign on both of their cheeks.”
“Gross.”
“Preston, listen quietly or wait outside.” Holly shook her head at me. “Please continue, Mr. Pickman.”
He shot me a smug look before continuing.
“Despite her standing in the community, Dimah was fearful, never leaving her house until nightfall; then she would dash, barefoot and veiled, to the crossroads along the ancient highway, or to the high place above the town, where the stones were carved with designs that had faded into incomprehensibility centuries earlier. Some nights, she spoke to no one, and accepted no entreaties, walking alone into the desert night, where the sands moved without the aid of wind. Other nights would find her shivering on a neighbor’s doorstep, ashen behind the gossamer fabric of her veil, desperate for sanctuary from formless terrors that they dared not name.”
Personally, I’ve always wondered how the names got around in the first place, if everyone was afraid to say them.
“When the wind blew from the east, the whole of the city locked their doors and barred their windows. They would sing, read aloud from certain old books, or stuff their ears full of lamb’s wool, to block the whistling sound that accompanied the east wind at night. That shrill whistle would gradually resolve into words, should one listen long enough. Those who listened too closely to the Whistler in the Dark would never been seen again, disappearing without explanation. Dimah would cry out, sometimes, when the east wind howled and rattled the windows, but no one had the courage to investigate. After one such evening, when the Whistler in the Dark seemed to stalk the very streets of the city, they discovered Dimah’s home destroyed, leveled to the foundation, the walls reduced to splinters. The immaculate garden that surrounded her home had been trampled by great and unnatural feet, leaving deep circular imprints in the soil.”
Elijah stopped to scratch behind his ear, a distant smile on his face as if he entertained by the story.
“According to the book, I read, Dimah was never seen again,” Elijah offered cheerfully, shoving my groceries forcefully into a tattered plastic bag. “Some children claimed that instead of the Whistler in the Dark, when the east wind came in off the dunes, they heard Dimah’s voice, begging them to come and find her. On occasion, the caravans who used to seek her blessing would see her image in the distance, silhouetted by the light of the swollen moon. Opinions varied as to whether such an occurrence was an omen of good or ill, but it was certain that any caravan that diverted from its path to rescue her would never find its way back home again.”
He finished bagging and shoved the results of his work in my direction. I wondered exactly how many of my eggs he had broken.
“The Outer Dark is generous to a fault with their gifts,” Elijah intoned, eyeing me gravelly, “And equally as committed to collecting what is owed them. Those debts can be accrued by action, or assigned by accident or design of birth. As, I suspect Dimah discovered for herself, though the story is not specific as to her end.”
My hands trembled as I handed over the money. Elijah looked as if he felt a little sorry for me.
“That is a problem with old stories in general,” Holly agreed, oblivious to my distress. “Either there are no women in them at all, or they disappear as soon as their service to the plot or protagonist is completed.”
“Is that so?” Elijah sounded doubtful. “You may be right, I suppose. Incidentally, Mr. Tauschen, your roommate April assisted me in the translation of this story, which we believe to be the first adaptation from the original Sumerian. Her insight was invaluable – her understanding of these matters is unrivaled.”
The more Elijah spoke, the more questions I wanted to ask. He had implied a dozen times what he had said, and all of it worried me. What had April been telling him, during their closed-door tutoring sessions? I didn’t trust myself – or Holly – enough to ask right now, but I made a mental note to follow up later.
Holly tried to put the apple and can of green ice tea she had selected on the counter, but Elijah waved her off with a courtly gesture.
“Thank you, Mr. Pickman,” Holly said brightly, patting his hand. “For the story, too.”
Elijah blushed and mumbled. As we made for the door, he turned his attention back to the enormous old book he keeps propped behind the register.
“I don’t get that kid,” I grumbled. “You sure he’s okay to tutor the girls?”
“Of course!” Holly laughed. “He comes from an excellent family. The very best sort of person.”
“Sure. If you say so.”
“I do, Preston. What’s the matter? Do you not like Elijah?”
“No, he’s fine,” I lied. “Where did you find him in the first place, anyway?”
“I’ve known Elijah since he was young. I sponsored his admission to Carter,” Holly said, taking my arm. “And I know his family, as I mentioned. Professor Dawes felt that April needed a tutor to help her with some very advanced linguistics for one of his courses, at the very least…”
This was impossible, of course, given April’s native talent for language, but she must have had her reasons.
“…and that Yael and even Sumire could achieve even better results, if they received more attention in their weaker subjects than he could provide personally.”
“Sumire’s already the valedictorian. What more do you want?”
“I’m a demanding mistress, Preston.”
“Don’t I know it. What’s she going to do after school, anyway?”
“I don’t think she is sure, yet, but something in the workforce that makes use of her talents, I would imagine. I should try to help her find something. Perhaps an internship?”
I grunted and thought it over. I frankly couldn’t imagine Sumire as anything other than a schoolgirl.
“Preston? Do you truly dislike Elijah?”
“Not really. What does it matter?”
“The boy is a project of mine,” Holly admitted. “Potentially. He has been living with his mother until quite recently, and seems to have become obsessed with the study of the architecture in the Nameless City. Strange, perhaps, but hopefully correctable.”
“The tutoring, then?”
“As much for Elijah as the girls,” Holly admitted. “They can’t help but have an edifying effect on an eligible young man, surely? They are all such charming young ladies.”
I shook my head.
“You’re always playing games, aren’t you?”
“Not to worry,” she said, squeezing my arm. “I won’t allow him to get close to your April.”
“A solid policy for anyone. Remind me not to turn my back on you, Holly.”
I meant it playfully, but she seemed taken aback.
“Whatever for?”
“Nothing really,” I said, with reassuring smile. “The way you set people up – for their own good, I know,” I lied. “Gives you a little bit of a dark side.”
“I don’t have a dark side, Preston,” Holly said, with an insular smile. “I do have a shadow, however – everyone casts a shadow, after all.”
***
I let myself in. There were two slumbering mounds of blankets and pillows; April and Yael were both late-risers. The shower was running, so that accounted for Sumire. I took the groceries to the kitchen and then set about clearing space to cook. Judging by the dishes floating in the stew of dirty water and spilled cookie dough in the sink, it was going to be a big job.
There didn’t seem to be any other volunteers, so I got to work with a scrub brush and dish soap. Sumire slid in beside me with an apron and an amused twinkle in her eye a few minutes later. Before I could react, she looped the top around my neck, and cinched the middle loop behind my back. The front of the apron was printed with a gigantic pair of red lips, with corresponding text inviting the world to “KISS THE COOK.”
“What the hell?” I examined the apron while Sumire covered her mouth to suppress laughter. “What is this?”
“Found it cleaning out the storage units with Kim,” Sumire managed, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. “Looks good on you. Very domestic.”
The Mysteries of Holly Diem (Unknown Kadath Estates Book 2) Page 2