The Ferryman (The Guardians Series 1 Book 2)

by Wendy Saunders

  When she spied the contents she sat back and smiled. A childish treasure map was rolled up inside along with her grandmother’s pearls and brooch, and also there was a handful of dimes and quarters. She scooped them out and turned them over in her hands remembering that the last time they’d used this box they’d been playing pirates. She took the map out and unrolled it, laughing lightly at Jake’s seven-year-old version of a skull and crossbones which looked more like a pumpkin on skis. He’d always insisted on drawing the maps she smiled fondly.

  ‘Hey,’ Theo’s voice interrupted her thoughts, ‘what are you doing?’

  ‘Looking for this,’ she smiled.

  ‘A picture of a turnip sitting on chopsticks?’ he looked over her shoulder at the drawing.

  ‘No,’ she laughed, ‘the box.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Help me take it downstairs and I’ll explain.’

  He grabbed her hands and hauled her to her feet before bending and easily lifting the box. She followed him down the stairs, closing the door to the draughty attic and locking it before they headed towards the library. Theo set the box down on the desk amidst piles of books and papers and as Olivia glanced across at the fire it burst joyfully into flames.

  ‘That’s better,’ she murmured as warmth began to spread through the room, ‘it’s getting cold again; I think we’ve got more snow heading our way.’

  ‘Probably,’ Theo agreed, ‘so what’s this box?’

  ‘It was a box we used to play with as kids, something that’s always stuck in my head,’ she moved closer and ran her hands over the markings. ‘To me it was just a really cool box we used to play with but it was only the other day when I was thinking about it I realised it’s true purpose.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I’m pretty certain it’s a Maledictionem box.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Maledictionem box, it’s Latin. It literally translates to curse box. It’s designed to hold or trap supernatural objects.’

  ‘What sort of objects?’

  ‘All sorts of things I guess, theoretically it’s supposed to contain cursed objects, possessed objects and hopefully spirit traps.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ he frowned looking closer, ‘it just looks like an ordinary chest.’

  ‘Well it’s made of iron to start with, which is supposed to affect spirits and some supernatural creatures and do you see these markings on the outside?’

  Theo nodded.

  ‘They’re sigils. Sigil comes from the Latin word sigillum which means seal. They are basically seals that keep whatever is in the box trapped in there.’

  She shook her head, laughing lightly under her breath as a thought occurred to her.

  ‘What?’

  ‘These boxes are extremely rare and very powerful and Nana used to let us use it for pirate treasure.’

  ‘She sounds like a nice woman.’

  ‘Yeah, she was,’ Olivia murmured as she turned to retrieve the bound mirror from her purse.

  Theo watched quietly as she placed the mirror carefully inside the chest and locked it, removing the key and dropping it into the desk drawer.

  ‘Can you put it up there, on the top shelf.’

  Theo nodded and placed it up high.

  ‘That should stop anyone inadvertently stumbling across it.’

  ‘Do you think it will hold him?’

  ‘Yes, it should do,’ she replied. ‘Between the binding spell I used and the box it should keep him contained at least temporarily.’

  ‘Temporarily?’

  ‘I’m hoping that when we find Charon he’ll know how to banish him back to the spirit world.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Theo frowned, ‘I don’t like the thought of having him trapped in the house.’

  ‘I don’t much care for the idea either,’ Olivia shrugged, ‘but better here than in the pub which will soon be full of walking, talking targets.’

  ‘I guess so,’ Theo mused, ‘maybe we could ask Sam if he can take it someplace safer.

  ‘Sam’s gone,’ Olivia told him.

  ‘Already?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she nodded, ‘but the last thing he said to me was that we need to find Charon.’

  ‘He said pretty much the same thing to me the other day.’

  ‘You know I love that everyone just keeps stating the obvious but no one is actually offering to help look for him.’

  ‘I guess it’s up to us then,’ he frowned.

  ‘Yes it is,’ she picked up a heavy book from a stack near the fireplace and handed it to Theo. ‘You start here.’

  He turned it over in his hands and looked at the spine; it was a book on Greek mythology.

  ‘We need to go right back to the beginning,’ she told him, ‘and find every single scrap of information or reference to Charon. If we can understand exactly what he is and how or why he might have disappeared, then we can start figuring out where to look.’

  ‘That’s very vague,’ Theo replied doubtfully, ‘how are we going to know if some kind of harm has befallen him or whether or not he just decided to take a vacation.’

  Olivia smiled.

  ‘Let’s think about this logically. He has been the Ferryman for thousands of years, it’s obviously a duty he takes very seriously. I can’t see him just deciding to disappear for no reason and not only that I don’t think Hades would allow it.’

  ‘Then something obviously happened to make him abandon his post.’

  ‘Maybe not abandon,’ she murmured thoughtfully as her gaze landed on the staff propped in the corner of the room. ‘What if someone took him?’

  ‘Kidnapped?’

  ‘Possibly,’ she replied, ‘I mean if it were me and I knew I needed to disappear for a while I’d make sure all my affairs were in order before I left. Not only was the doorway to the otherworld left open so that the spirits could escape, but his boat was left drifting on the lake and his staff was found floating in the water. The whole thing suggests his departure was so abrupt it may not have been voluntary.’

  ‘It does make sense,’ Theo nodded, ‘then I guess the question is who would want to kidnap the Ferryman?’

  ‘I think if we work out the how, we may figure out the who.’

  ‘So if we find out what his weaknesses are we may know how they were able to take him?’

  That narrows down the list of suspects doesn’t it? Olivia answered. ‘Then if we figure out the who, we may figure out the where.’

  ‘I guess we better get reading then,’ he picked up another couple of books and settled himself on the sofa, while Olivia booted up her new laptop and began trawling through the internet hoping that somehow, between them, they would find something helpful.

  Showered and changed, Jackson walked back into the hospital and headed straight for the NICU. The hour was fairly late but as he had accompanied Kaitlin and her son to the hospital earlier the staff seemed happy to let him through. He suspected that they had assumed he was the father; an assumption he didn’t bother to correct as it would just make it more difficult to get in to see them both.

  He stepped quietly into the NICU. The lighting was on low and the room was filled with what looked like giant baby fish tanks, big rectangular clear plastic incubators each occupied with a premature or sick child fighting for their lives. It made him feel strangely humbled and a little sad as he made his way quietly through to one in particular. He recognised the shock of red hair as Kaitlin sat in a wheelchair wrapped in a thick blue robe, staring down into the incubator.

  ‘There you are now,’ he whispered as he sat down next to her, ‘how are you feeling darlin’?’

  ‘Better,’ she replied absently, ‘tired and sore but it will pass soon, so they tell me.’

  ‘Of course it will,’ Jackson peered down into the tank, ‘and how is your little man doing?’

  ‘They tell me he’s doing really well actually, for a baby born at thirty-two wee
ks on a dirty cellar floor.’

  He turned to her as he caught the bitter edge of her tone.

  ‘Well he’s a fighter isn’t he, like his father.’

  ‘Didn’t do Adam a lot of good either did it?’ she turned accusing eyes on him, ‘he’s still dead.’

  ‘Aye,’ Jackson replied, ‘but I know he’d be right pleased with his son. Have you named him yet?’

  ‘No,’ she turned back to the tank and stared again.

  ‘What is it Katy love?’

  She glanced at his piercing blue eyes, shifting uncomfortably.

  ‘Whatever is going on in your mind, you can talk to me you know.’

  She sighed. ‘I don’t think I’ll make a very good mother, Jackson.’

  ‘Of course you will,’ he soothed her, ‘you only feel this way as everything happened all of a sudden, it’s a lot to take in. But your little man here, all he needs is love and someone to look up to.’

  She blew out a slow breath.

  ‘I didn’t want to be pregnant, I didn’t want a baby. After Adam died I felt like I should keep the baby because it’s what he would’ve wanted but,’ she paused shaking her head, ‘I don’t know how to do this Jackson. I don’t know how to be someone’s mom.’

  ‘You’ll learn just like every other new mother does,’ he told her gently. ‘You don’t have to go through this alone, I’ll be right there for anything you and the baby need.’

  ‘You’re a good man Jackson do you know that?’ she replied quietly.

  ‘Aye I may have heard it said a time or two,’ he grinned, ‘but it’s always nice to be told.’

  He patted her hand gently. ‘Don’t fret so Katy, you’ve had a very traumatic day, you don’t have to decide your whole life tonight. Get some rest then tomorrow give the boy a name and you’ll feel better for it.’

  She nodded slowly as she beckoned one of the nurses over.

  ‘I want to go back to my room now,’ she murmured.

  The nurse nodding sympathetically took hold of the handles and steered her wheelchair away from the baby.

  Jackson watched her wheeled from the room before he turned back to the sleeping baby, marvelling at his tiny toes and perfect nose. His diaper was so big it reached almost up to his armpits, his skinny little legs poking out either side covered with wrinkly skin, like a little old man. The little woolly hat covered most of his head and he was attached to several tubes but he seemed quite content. His skin had warmed up to a nice pink colour, unlike the sickly blue-tinged white he’d been when Theo had held the boy in his hands. The Goddess’s words echoed in his head as he looked down at the child. She was right he was special.

  The nurse returned to the room and headed towards Jackson.

  ‘Is it alright if I stay a while, I won’t be any trouble I promise,’ he threw her his trademark smile.

  ‘Sure,’ she replied slightly dazed, charmed by his lilting brogue. ‘You can touch him if you like. He’s doing very well despite being so small; he’s actually got very strong vitals. If you slip your hand through the hole there you can let him know you’re close, they respond well to the contact.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No problem,’ she smiled as she moved away to check on another incubator.

  Jackson slipped his hand through the circular hole and reached out with trembling fingers to stroke his fragile hand. At his touch the baby’s fingers instinctively flexed and grasped onto Jackson’s fingertip.

  ‘I know you don’t know who I am yet,’ Jackson whispered, ‘but I knew your daddy. He was a good man too and I know he wishes he could be here with you but he can’t because he had to go to heaven. But I don’t want you to worry because I’ll be watching out for you, for him.’

  The baby’s fingers flexed again, squeezing feather light, almost as if he’d understood. Unable to look away Jackson sat watching over the tiny little boy knowing from this moment on his life had irrevocably changed and that he would do whatever he could to make sure Adam Miller’s son was taken care of.

  Chapter 16

  Olivia slammed her new laptop shut with a growl of frustration. They’d been at it for nearly two days now and they’d barely found any useful information on Charon except the basics. Every resource and reference they found simply regurgitated the same few facts, Ferryman of the dead, coins to pay passage, blah blah blah.

  She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her tired eyes. She had no idea how he appeared, if people could summon him or even if they could see him. Did they have to be dead to see him? It felt like she’d been banging her head against a wall for 48 hours straight and she was still none the wiser, only now she had a wicked headache brewing. With a sigh of defeat she slid out of her seat and headed to the kitchen for some aspirin.

  As she grabbed a couple of pills from the bottle in the cupboard, a playful bark drew her attention. Turning towards the window over the sink she saw Theo out in the back yard throwing a stick for Beau. The puppy was joyfully diving face first into the deep snow to retrieve it. Smiling at the sight she absently took a clean glass from the drainer and turned the faucet on. Beau’s antics could not distract her for long and as she downed the pills and placed the glass down on the side, her thoughts were once again drawn back to the problem of locating Charon. For a while Charlotte had been kind of steering them in the right direction, whilst scaring the crap out of them at the same time, but Olivia was forced to admit there was no way they would have worked out the spirit infestation was down to a three-thousand-year old Greek myth going missing. She frowned as she thought of Charlotte who, since the clock had been delivered to the house and they’d found her journal, seemed to have gone silent.

  ‘If you’re listening Charlotte,’ Olivia murmured into the empty kitchen, ‘I could really use some help finding Charon.’

  The temperature in the kitchen suddenly plummeted and she watched as the faucet turned itself back on. Hot water gushed out and a great cloud of steam rose up, fogging up the window in front of the sink. Once it was completely misted over the faucet turned itself off again. The silence of the room was suddenly split by the squeaking sound of an invisible finger being dragged along the window, as letters began to appear on the cold pane of glass ……namtaod

  ‘What the hell?’ Olivia frowned, ‘what on earth was namtaod?’

  She stood for a moment, head tilted in concentration as she tried to decipher the strange cryptic message until Theo stomped back up the steps. He kicked the snow off his boots before stepping back into the kitchen, closely followed by Beau whose fur was now thoroughly soaked.

  ‘Go dry off by the fire boy,’ Theo told him and he scampered off towards the fire in the library as if he’d understood every word out of Theo’s mouth. ‘Hey,’ he wandered over and dropped a kiss on Olivia’s mouth, ‘why did you write ‘boatman’ on the window.’

  ‘What?’

  She turned back to the window and realised that he was right, the letters were backwards. From the outside it would read boatman.

  ‘I didn’t write it,’ she replied, ‘Charlotte did.’

  ‘Why did she do that?’

  ‘I asked for her help,’ Olivia shook her head. ‘It doesn’t really help though does it? She’s just kind of stating the obvious, we already know it’s the Ferryman.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s what she means?’ Theo replied as he pulled his coat off.

  ‘Ferryman, Boatman, it is basically the same thing. Fiona said once that spirits get confused; she probably just used the wrong word.’

  ‘I guess so,’ Theo shrugged. ‘So did you find anything else?’

  ‘No,’ she sighed, ‘we’re still back at square one.’

  ‘Why don’t we take a break?’

  ‘And do what?’

  ‘Let’s get out of the house for a while. We could go to the hospital and visit Kaitlin and her baby. I know you want to see how they’re doing.’

  ‘I do,’ Olivia replied softly,
‘but I don’t know if Kaitlin will want to see me. After all she doesn’t actually like me very much. I think she’s still half convinced I had something to do with Adam Miller’s death.’

  ‘She was alright with you the other day.’

  ‘That was because she was panicking and trying to give birth.’

  ‘Well you’ll never know unless you try will you?’ Theo turned her around as he grabbed his coat once again. ‘You need to get out of the house for a while whether you like it or not, so go get your boots on.’

  ‘Alright,’ she sighed, ‘but only because I’m getting cabin fever.’

  Jackson headed towards Kaitlin’s room with a big bouquet of flowers and blue balloons. That girl needed cheering up; over the last few days she had become more and more withdrawn. She’d barely seen the babe more than twice and she still hadn’t given him a name. She was supposed to be seeing her doctor today and if Jackson was able to, he was determined to have a word in private with the man. He had a sneaking suspicion Kaitlin might be suffering from post natal depression.

  Finding the door wide open he walked into her room but came to an abrupt halt. His eyes momentarily swung back to the number on the door to check he had the right room, as the room was empty and stripped bare, apart from a small heap of used sheets and blankets on the floor. A small blonde nurse looked up as she changed the sheets.

  ‘Can I help you?’ she smiled.

  ‘Sorry love,’ he smiled back, ‘I’m looking for Kaitlin Moore. Has she changed rooms then?’

  ‘Oh,’ she dropped the sheet and straightened up. ‘Miss Moore checked herself out this morning. Are you Jackson Murphy?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘She left this for you,’ the woman dug in the pocket of her scrubs and came up with a thick white envelope.

  Jackson took the letter, frowning as he stared at it.

  ‘Why don’t I give you a minute,’ she smiled sympathetically.

  Leaving the bed half made, she went out of the room leaving him alone. He placed the bouquet of flowers down on the bed and absently let go of the balloons which drifted up to the ceiling to bob there silently. Turning the envelope over in his hands he dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed and tore open the letter.