When he was close enough to shore, he felt the rocky land beneath his feet and stood, clutching branches as he stumbled onto the sand. Dazed, he looked around. “I know this place,” he muttered. He began to walk. The river had wound around into a near circle, bringing him back to the village of Jethro. Henry staggered past the trees and now arrived at a familiar road. “I have to make it. I’m so close,” he thought optimistically. He walked about four miles in the dark. He didn’t see a soul for the late hour; he guessed it had to be near two o’clock in the morning.
Another hour had passed. When he finally made it to the heart of the village, he went another two blocks to a small apartment building. He squinted to see the sign. “The Melbourn,” it said. He opened the door and tripped on the threshold, catching himself on the stairs. He climbed, laboriously, painfully, up to the fifth floor, then limped down the hall to 511. He knocked gently, but there was no answer, so he used his last bit of strength and pounded on the door.
Cynthia had fallen asleep on the sofa and was startled awake by the noise. “Henry!” she said aloud. She quickly leaped up and went to the door. When she opened it, Henry fell into her arms. “My god, what’s happened to you!” she said, looking with horror at the arrow sticking out of his back and feeling his soaked clothes. She helped him over to the sofa and lay him down on his stomach. After propping up his head on her pillow and smoothing back his hair, she whispered, “What happened to you? I was worried sick!” She examined his wound. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get this arrow out.” She filled a small basin with hot water and got a few clean cloths.
Cynthia looked at the arrow. It was deep inside his back. She touched it, and he yelped. She paused and then took off her belt and folded it over. “Here, put this in your mouth.” Henry gripped the leather between his teeth. “This is going to hurt,” she said. She slowly pulled on the arrow, with Henry screaming into the pillow through the belt, but it actually came out fairly cleanly. “There. That wasn’t so bad.”
“You’re funny,” Henry said, tears coursing down his face.
She tended to the wound, sterilized it, and bandaged it tightly. “There, that’s better.” She touched his forehead. “You seem rather warm.” She got to her feet and looked down at him. “Rest now. It will be morning in a few hours. We’ll talk then.” She left Henry and went to her bedroom, lay down on her bed and went to sleep, so grateful he was still alive.
When the morning sun broke through, the light penetrated the room and awakened Cynthia. She got out of bed and went in to check on Henry. He was still sleeping deeply. She made breakfast for the two of them and sat down with some hot coffee. When she came back into the living room, Henry was awake but distraught. “Good morning, handsome,” she said. Henry sat up higher on the cushions and winced. “How are you feeling?”
He tried to chuckle but winced again. “I guess I’ve had better days,” he said. “I’m actually kind of weak.” He brushed his hand through his short hair. “Cynthia, we need to talk.”
“Do you know how worried I was about you? You were due back here yesterday afternoon.”
“I got a little side-tracked. That investigation on Mr. Colburn didn’t turn up much. But, I did run into someone who would have given me ample information on Colburn. A Mr. Brandon Peasley.”
“Yes, I know him,” she said. “What did he tell you?”
“Not much, unfortunately. Just as things were going to come into play, we were ambushed by three of Makoor’s henchmen. It was Peasley they wanted. I was merely at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Cynthia looked horrified. “Makoor?” she whispered.
“We were taken to a warehouse here, just past Jethro, where they tortured Peasley and made me watch. In the end, they drowned him. Brandon Peasley is dead.”
Cynthia was shaking. “What did they want?”
“They forced Brandon to write a letter to someone named Caprius Seaton saying they needed to meet in the lounge of hotel Quantum Heights.”
“You mean the Caprius Seaton? As in the Prince of Elysium?” she asked, bewildered.
“How do you know about him?” he asked.
“I don’t just know about him; I went to school with him. I actually had a terrible crush on him, but he didn’t show much interest in me, the louse,” she chuckled ruefully. “He ended up marrying Melina Hampshire.” She was up on her feet now, pacing back and forth. “Melina has a sister named Selene, and it just so happens that she works at the hotel in one of the concourse shops.” Cynthia stopped pacing and looked intently at Henry. “What else did they instruct Brandon Peasley to write in that letter?”
“That’s all I know,” said Henry.
“Is there anything else that can help us?” she asked.
Henry nodded. “As I said, the letter was meant specifically to have Caprius Seaton meet Brandon at hotel Quantum Heights, though…” he paused and tried to remember any other details. “Wait a minute. There is something else. One of Makoor’s Henchmen, Lavender Frikiseed, he’s a member of a dark cult. They call themselves the Goncools. And, now that I think about it, Lavender had a strange tattoo on his wrist of a snake with a spike through it.” He shook his head. “But, that’s really everything I can remember.”
Cynthia rubbed her forehead. “I need to go to hotel Quantum Heights and warn Caprius.” She glanced at the clock. “I’ll leave right away.”
“I’m going with you,” said Henry firmly. “I’m not letting you go alone.”
Cynthia shook her head. “Oh, no, you’re not. If you can remember, only a few hours ago, I removed an arrow from your back. You’re in no condition to travel.”
“It’s a miracle; I feel much better,” he said, getting up.
Cynthia had to admit she would’ve been very happy for his company. But, the risk was too great. “No, now it’s too dangerous. Lavender Frikiseed knows you, and should the Goncools recognize you, our mission would be compromised. This now goes beyond our investigation of Mr. Colburn. The Goncools don’t know me from Adam, however, so I can travel around undetected.” She started gathering up some things into a satchel. “The Dark Lord has spun his web of malignancies. You, Henry Hudson, must not interfere. You stay here and wait for me. I want you to rest and take care of yourself. I will be all right. The Goncools won’t suspect a thing.”
Henry sat back down, his face showing relief. “Be careful, Cynthia. They will be watching for any suspicious activities,” he said.
“They won’t suspect a thing. As I said, they don’t know me. And, I know just how to get to Caprius Seaton.” She folded her arms. “Now come, I’ll warm up your breakfast.” As she reheated his eggs, she thought about the Colburn affair. ‘I’ll get back to that later,’ she thought. ‘I wonder if Caprius Seaton will remember me.’
Chapter 4
Quantum Heights
High up in the northern mountains at the eastern edge of the forest stood the prestigious Hotel Quantum Heights, a resort for Alamptria’s most illustrious citizens. Christmas had just past, and the gala to celebrate the new year had brought the house down. Everyone’s spirits had been high: dancing girls flirted with the men, whose wives were too busy flirting with other women’s husbands to notice. All the revelers sang, drank, and ate until well after dawn.
On the morning of January 7, 2256, the hotel was quiet, as all the guests were still recuperating from the party days. Those who drank heavily needed the rest. There were a number of people who had to deal with their hangovers. But, bright and alert in his office, Mr. Willy B. Pinkles, the hotel’s manager, whistled at his books, grateful the hotel had come through unscathed. Previous years’ repairs from the party had been expensive, indeed.
He rifled through the receipts and felt satisfied. He could already see how the profits outweighed the expenditures by a great sum, and thus heartened, he looked that much more forward to the hotel’s 10th anniversary celebration taking place later that month.
Looking a bit rough around the edges, his assis
tant, Arnie, shuffled in. Pinkles still had his eyes on the books. “This was a fine event, Arnie. We exceeded even last year’s winter festival celebration profits,” said Pinkles.
“Yes, and, Sir, it was a wise investment to build a railway stop at the hotel. I’m sure that will bring in a whole new flood of visitors,” said Arnie eagerly. “Just think, Mr. Pinkles, with the renovations you did last year, you’ll probably make your money back within, perhaps, even four years or so.”
Pinkles snorted. “Four? I expect two years, no more.” He sighed. “I’m just relieved the Seatons were able to control themselves this year; no damage to the hotel due to their antics, and,” he muttered, “their stupid claymores of power.”
“Sir, certainly you can understand that the damage the Seatons caused in the past was due to their being on missions for his majesty’s secret service.”
“Missions or no missions, the Seatons were responsible. Arnie, if you want to take over as manager of Quantum Heights one day, you’re going to have to learn to put your foot down.” Pinkles pushed his chair back and walked over to the large window. He gazed outside into the wilderness. Snow had fallen in thick white clumps overnight, and the view from atop the mountain was breathtaking.
“I have eight years until I retire, Arnie. In my remaining years as hotel manager, I want to continue to make improvements to this establishment.” He spread his arms out. “I want people all over Alamptria to remember this as the most prestigious hotel in our land and, maybe one day, the world. I want people to remember the name ‘Quantum Heights.’”
Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Enter!” yelled Pinkles. The concierge manager entered. “Brunt, what is it?”
“It seems we have a problem with one of the tourists, Sir. A Mr. Brandon Peasley,” said Brunt.
“What is this problem?” asked Pinkles, frowning.
“There are a number of expenses on his account that are still outstanding, and Peasley is nowhere to be found. I last saw him on the 2nd of January, so this morning, I had a porter go to his suite to check on him. All his belongings are still there. We found some bloodstains on the carpeting. But, no Peasley. We checked the room with a fine-toothed comb,” said Brunt. Pinkles raised an eyebrow and folded his hands. Then, he sat back down in his chair. “Sir, I think Brandon Peasley is dead and have reason to believe this was a professional hit.”
“Where was the blood found, Brunt?” asked Pinkles.
“By the sofa, near the coffee table,” said Brunt.
Arnie jumped in. “Sir, should we call on the Seatons to investigate?”
“No, Arnie, we’ll leave this to the local police,” said Pinkles.
“Mr. Brandon Peasley had been involved in some sort of business with the Seatons in the past. Shouldn’t they be informed of what has happened?” asked Arnie.
“Yes, they will be. But, this needs to be a police matter now,” said Pinkles, sneering. “Brunt, I want you to get a messenger to deliver a note to the police and inform them as to what has happened,” he said. He went to his desk to dash off the note and handed it to Brunt.
Quantum Heights was situated within the city of Alba May. The city looked as beautiful in the daytime as it did in the twinkling light of dusk. At this time of year, reflected off the snow, the hotel, with its glowing yellow lanterns, looked warm and festive.
On horseback en route to Hotel Quantum Heights, Caprius Seaton approached a waterfall cascading down from the mountain into a pond that fed into a larger lake. Above, the water had slowed to a trickle from the large icicles hanging down, and where Caprius rode over a curve of stones beneath the falls, the road was thickly carpeted with snow. His white stallion blended in, his footfalls dampened but for the crunch of snow beneath his hooves. The storm of the previous evening had caught everyone off guard. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky, and then, at 6:00 a.m., the winds picked up, and sinister clouds roared in, dumping several meters of snow.
Caprius looked up and saw a passenger train arriving to the new station at the hotel, steam blowing off its back. He rode up the mountain to the hotel and went around back to the stables, where he handed his steed over to the groom. He patted the horse before turning to leave. “Take good care of her, Charley.”
“Like she was my own, Sir.”
Unlike the city streets at the bottom of the hill, which, despite the additional manpower and hours of shoveling, remained thick with snow, the roads impassable, the road leading to the hotel was pristine. Horse-drawn carriages went swiftly to and fro. Caprius waited for a break, then dashed across the road and went into the hotel, his claymore of power by his side. Caprius was eager to meet his contact—Brandon Peasley. Caprius knew Brandon well; they went back many years.
He found his way to the concierge and plunked his sack on the wooden counter. Although Dragus, Confidus, and a few other council members from Elysium had come there for the New Year’s Eve party, Caprius had spent the evening in Elysium with his wife, Melina Hampshire, and her family. This was his first visit to the hotel since New Year’s Day in 2247. He’d always liked coming here; it was elegant and serene, a place to rejuvenate his spirit. He hoped the new railroad station wouldn’t bring too many people to the place and spoil it.
“A good day to you, Mr. Seaton. We have been expecting you,” bowed the concierge.
“A good day to you, as well,” said Caprius. “You have my usual suite?”
“But, of course. Here is the key and your room number, Sir. I’ll have the porter take up your sack.”
“That will not be necessary. I will see to my room.” Caprius tipped the concierge a few shillings and turned to scan the lobby.
“As you wish,” smiled the concierge. “Can I send any lunch to your room, Sir?”
“No, thank you. I have a table waiting for me in the dining lounge and am expecting someone,” said Caprius. “But, first, I shall have a hot bath. I am quite chilled and stiff from the long journey.”
The concierge winked. “Ah, yes, I know just the thing for that. Perhaps, you would like me to send up a girl to give you a massage.”
“That won’t be necessary. But, you can send a woman up to fill the bathtub.”
“Right away, Sir.”
“I shall be up momentarily,” said Caprius. “I wish to check on something. And, actually, I have changed my mind. Please have the porter take this sack up to my room.” Caprius turned and went down the large hall into the concourse. In the flower shop, he saw a woman he knew. She was bent over watering the lilies when he snuck up on her. “Hello, Selina,” he said teasingly.
“I know that voice,” she said. She stood and turned to face him. “Caprius Seaton,” she announced and gave him a hug. “How is my sister?”
“Melina is doing fine. Did you know we are planning to have a child?” As he spoke, he became aware of a beautiful brunette over by the bouquets eying him. Caprius glanced over at her, and for a moment, they locked eyes.
“Good God, you’re going to be a father!” she exclaimed and kissed him. “When is the big day?”
“Well, she isn’t pregnant yet,” he said. “But, I’m afraid I will not be witnessing the birth of my child. Melina will be leaving Elysium to live with Grongone, the wizard, in Petoshine. She will live where the child can be protected.”
“Protected from what?” she asked, alarmed.
“It’s a long story. But, the baby will be in good hands. I must take my leave now; I just stopped by to say hello. I’m going upstairs to my room for a while, and then I have a meeting to attend.” He smiled at her, then recalled seeing several police in the lobby. “By the way, any idea what is going on out there?”
Selina lowered her voice. “I don’t know all the details. But, I heard a hotel guest has gone missing and is presumed to be dead.”
“That is terrible news.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Goodbye, Selina.”
“Caprius, it’s always a pleasure. When will I see you again?” she asked.
�
��I don’t know. Maybe if the meeting doesn’t take too long, we can have dinner. I’ll let you know.”
When he arrived in his suite, he checked the bathing room to see that the tub was filled with steaming water. He returned to his sack, which was sitting on a table in the living area, and checked the time on his pocket watch. He undressed, laid his claymore on the floor beside the tub, and submerged himself in the hot bath, feeling the tension in his muscles falling away.
He closed his eyes and laid a hot cloth over his face. He became so relaxed, he didn’t notice a woman enter his bathroom and remove all her clothes. It was only when she entered the water and sat across from him did he throw off the cloth and sit straight up. It was the woman from the flower shop. “How did you get in?”
She smiled like a cat. “I told the porter I was Melina Hampshire.”
“I’m not accustomed to finding naked women in my bathtub who aren’t Melina Hampshire,” said Caprius.
“I’m sure. I work with Brandon Peasley,” she said.
“And, Brandon thought he could send you here? Why, to break the ice?” said Caprius archly.
“Not exactly. I’m afraid Brandon won’t be attending the meeting,” she said.
“Why the hell not!” he said. “I came a very long way to see him.”
She looked straight at him with pure blue eyes. “Brandon Peasley is dead. I came to warn you.”
“Dead?” Caprius said astonished. “And, what’s to warn me about?”
“You know that letter you received from him asking you to meet him here? He was forced to write it.”
“By whom?” Caprius asked. “What did this person want?”
“There were actually five men. They belong to some sort of cult. I came to warn you that you should go back home and forget about Peasley,” she said. “These men are dangerous. Forget this meeting was ever to take place.”
“I can’t do that. I have to find out who’s behind this.”
“You’re in over your head. They will take your claymore, and they’ll kill you.”
Quantum Heights: Book one of the Dead Path Chronicles Page 8