by Tom Larcombe
“Yup, how about you come over around five o'clock and we'll see if she shows.”
“I'll do that.”
Kathryn had heard the entire conversation since the answering machine had broadcast it. She looked at Charles and nodded.
“Yes, I'll go also. I've got a feeling that you might need me.”
“Kathryn and I will both be there at five,” Charles told Greg. “We'll see you then.”
“One last thing Charles. She saw the primers, could read the titles and everything.”
“Wait, is she youngish, looks like a slightly overdeveloped fourteen year old? Dark hair, slender, and skittish as can be?”
“That's a good description of Amber, yes,” Greg said.
“We'll definitely be there. I think we've got another budding wizard on our hands.”
* * *
* * *
Chapter 5
Well shit! Amber thought. I'd hoped to find out a little more about what might be causing that feeling. I might've been able to find out from him if I hadn't chickened out and run away. He seemed willing and happy to talk to me, with none of that pedo vibe I've gotten from some other older guys. There's something about that guy though, I'd swear I know him, but I can't remember having ever seen him before.
She had no idea of where she should go this early in the morning. There were a few more people on the streets now, but most of them looked like working stiffs on their way to a nine to five. A few minutes later she realized she'd been walking on autopilot when she came in view of the park.
I suppose that's as good a place as any, she thought. And I can dig that crystal back up, It can go in the pouch with my money, then back in the box. If any light still leaks out, I'll wrap a shirt around it or something.
She scrambled through the trees into the clearing, but when she got there, she just settled onto the ground.
What am I gonna do? It's only been a couple of hours and I almost got caught by someone I robbed. I've got nowhere to go until afternoon when the theater opens. Maybe I should just go back and see if I can change Eric's mind.
She knew better, no-one yet had been able to change Eric's mind after he'd determined where someone belonged. Tim had come closest, but that was by working his job in addition to all the duties Eric had piled on him as a Guardian. Once Tim started bringing food home, Eric had told him to forget the Guardian bit and just work, but it had taken several grueling years to get to that point. Rumor had it that Eric had required some other extra work from Tim, but Amber didn't believe that.
What Tim had done was something she really didn't want to do, considering what work she'd be doing and Eric's standard response to the girls who hated that work. Once he'd drugged them the first few times, they didn't seem to care any more and were more than happy to go out and whore themselves so long as Eric provided more drugs for them when they weren't actively walking the streets.
I'd rather be dead than do that, so if I'm just miserable then that's got to be something I can handle, right? she asked herself.
Her little pep talk failed to raised her spirits. Instead, she decided to dig up the crystal she'd buried here. It only took a minute or two to get to it, the soil was very loose as she dug. Once she had it in her hands, she realized that she'd utterly forgotten how strange it felt against her skin, forgotten the feel of tiny insect legs marching across all of the skin that was in contact with it. She wasn't too bothered by the feeling, she'd dealt with bugs enough that she'd had to convince herself that she just didn't care about them. Even so, knowing that the feeling was being generated by the crystal and not actual bugs creeped her out more than the actual insects would have.
She held the crystal to her ear, trying to hear if it was humming or anything.
It's not humming or vibrating. You'd think that it would be doing one of those things to generate that feeling, but it isn't. It's just there, more solid than you'd expect, but what the hell is it for? And how is it making this light? If it used a battery wouldn't it be hot or the light be dimming by now from the battery running out?
If anything, her hand was cooler than the rest of her where it was in contact with the crystal. The sunlight shining on the crystal seemed dimmer also, but she wasn't sure if that was because the light coming from the crystal was brighter than the sunlight or what.
You know, bringing this thing with me just seems like a bad plan. I think I'm just going to bury it again.
She dropped the crystal back in the hole and pushed the dirt back on top of it. The white rock went on top again so she'd know where to find it if she ever figured out what to do with it.
I wonder if a pawn shop would know what it is? They'd rip me off if I sold it to them, but if I don't know what it is, how can I possibly know what it's worth?
She laid back on the ground, feeling the warmth of the sun on her, and considered her problems. A while later, she startled upright, listening closely.
I thought I heard something. Someone coming through the trees.
Amber swore she felt, as much as heard, someone's footsteps as they approached the clearing. She grabbed her backpack and rolled out of the clearing, keeping herself low to the ground. A particularly thick bush presented itself, so she got behind it and watched.
That's that same guy! Is he following me? Or does he have some way to track his crystal? What the hell is he doing here?
Rather than continue to follow her or start digging up the crystal, the man just leaned back against a tree and let his eyes close.
Wait a minute. I know there's been other people here in the clearing. Has he been one of them all along maybe? If I feel drawn here, and also to his place, but here stronger, does he feel the same things? Is that why he lives where he does? Damn it, I just don't know if I can trust him, and I sure as hell won't be able to trust him if he ever finds out I stole that crystal from him.
Amber backed away from the clearing and out of the small woods. Once she was out, she had no idea where to go again so she just started wandering the streets.
It should be safe enough before noon. Hardly any of our people are ever out before noon, so I guess all the other groups are the same. Even if they aren't, I can still probably outrun most of them anyway.
She wandered the streets, not really paying attention to much of anything. She knew that was dangerous, but her mind kept turning back to her problems and what she could do about them. Unfortunately, she kept coming up with the same answer; nothing at all. There was nothing she could think of doing that would fix the problems she was having.
* * *
Amber didn't notice as the air grew colder, but she certainly noticed when they sky opened up and the rain quickly became hard enough to soak through her clothing.
Just what I needed, she thought. So now what do I do? It's too early for Tim to be at work so I can't ask him if I can stay inside there. I wonder if Greg's bookstore is open yet and if he'd let me stay in his shop until it stops raining?
She made her way towards the bookstore, far closer to the building than she'd like to be, but she just didn't know where else to go at the moment. She could get a cup of coffee somewhere and nurse it for a while, but most places weren't going to let her stay for any longer than it took her to finish eating or drinking what she'd ordered. Plus, she really wanted to save as much money as she could since she had no idea what she was going to do, or what she might need her cash for.
By the time she made it to Greg's store, she was soaked to the bone. She was worried that everything in her backpack might have gotten wet also. It was supposed to be water resistant, but she didn't think they meant to this degree. She wasn't freezing though. Although the rain was frigid, the air temperature had warmed up noticeably as she walked.
The store was open and she stepped inside and looked around. Greg was nowhere to be seen.
“I'll be with you in a minute,” his voice called out from the back room.
“No rush,” she replied.
“Is that you Ambe
r? This is awful early for you, isn't it?” he said, coming out into the shop.
Then he saw her.
“Oh my! You're drenched. You must be freezing too.”
“I'm soaked, but I'm warm enough. I just... I didn't... I don't know where to go. I had to leave the building, but I don't know what to do yet. I was trying to figure it out when I got caught in the rain. Would you mind if I, I mean could I...”
She looked around the warm, cozy shop filled to the rafters with old books.
“I was going to ask to stay here until it stopped raining, but I don't want to be in the way or anything,” she finished in a rush.
Greg came over to her.
“Stay right there, I'll get you a towel. You can stay in my back room until the rain stops or you figure out what to do.”
Amber sighed with relief. She really hadn't counted on anyone just being kind in a very long time. She'd hoped Greg would be, but hadn't been sure.
“Thank you so much,” she said.
He held up a hand and walked to the back room. When he came out, he tossed a towel at her.
“Dry yourself off and then, if you don't mind, use the towel to soak up the puddle beneath you.”
She looked down where her clothes had been dripping and realized that if she weren't quick, she'd be soaking some of his books.
Her backpack hit the floor with a 'splat', splashing a few more drops of water around. She used the towel to dry herself off as much as she could, as quickly as she could. When she was done, she wiped down the backpack as well, then used the towel to stop the flow of water towards the books.
“Damn, that was close,” she said. “I almost got some of your merchandise wet.”
He raised an eyebrow and looked at the books that had been in danger.
“No big deal if you had.”
“But that's how you make your living,” she said. “I wouldn't feel right if they got damaged just because you were helping me.”
He smiled at her.
“I do make some money, a little bit, off of all these books out here. They aren't my main source of income though. I just like making these available for people who like to read. New books have become so expensive now that an avid reader has a hard time paying for their habit. So I offer used books at a much more reasonable rate.”
She didn't want to pry, but she was curious.
“They aren't? I thought you were fairly busy around here.”
“These books out here make enough to pay the rent on the shop. I make my living on other books though. Here, grab your backpack and come with me.”
He led her to the back room he'd come out of earlier. As Amber walked through the door, she saw the entire back wall filled with glassed in bookcases.
“These are where I make most of my money; rare books. First editions, signed classics, some really old one of a kinds, and even some more modern, hand-penned books. You can stay back here while it's raining, but I do have to ask that you not touch any of the books. As I said, these are much more valuable. A lot of them are priceless to the right person, if I can just find that person.”
Amber stared in awe. The outside area of the shop smelled the way she thought old books would smell, but back here the scent was stronger, and somehow richer or deeper.
“Can I look through the glass though? See what's there?”
He smiled indulgently.
“Certainly, and if you see anything you want a closer look at, you can ask me later on. Depending on what it is you might be able to have that look.”
The bell on the front door of the shop jingled.
“Excuse me, I've got to go keep an eye on a customer,” he said, then left.
Amber watched as he left the room, the door swinging closed behind him.
I can't believe he left me here with all of this. I could be set for months on just a few of these books. If I knew which ones were most valuable, and who to sell them to, and... Who am I kidding? It's Greg. I'm not about to rob Greg, he's the only person I trust right now, and he jumped right in to help me when I asked.
She stopped thinking about stealing from him, ashamed that she'd had those thoughts in the first place. Instead, she started reading the spines of the books. In many cases, those were the only things visible, but in others, the book was displayed with the cover facing out.
Many of the titles were in foreign languages and, as he'd said, a lot of the books looked ancient. But some of the ones with their covers displayed started her laughing.
Wizardry: A Basic Primer? 1896 edition? And here's the 1927 edition, and the 1977 edition. And more advanced books on Wizardry, separated by the elements. I bet these are some of the one of a kind, hand written, books he was talking about. It looks like people liked their jokes even back in the 1800s. I am surprised that they kept the gag running for that long though. I wonder if there are other editions to fill in the gaps?
She continued her sweep of the room, practically drooling over some of the things she saw. When she'd finished looking at the books, she sank into a chair at the table in the middle of the room. Her head sank down to the table, slowly, as she went back to thinking about her problems. The books had been a wonderful distraction, but she needed to give some serious thought as to what to do.
* * *
She'd almost dozed off when she was startled awake by the door opening. Her first impulse was to scramble for the door, but she hadn't seen another exit here and the only door was the one that had just opened.
She looked up and relaxed. It was just Greg coming back.
“Coffee?” he asked.
“I don't normally drink that stuff, but I think I'll make an exception today. A warm drink sounds wonderful,” Amber replied.
“So, looks like you were taking a nap. Hard night?”
“I was still at the building overnight, so I didn't sleep very well. Then I was up early to get out of there.”
He nodded and moved towards the coffee maker on a small table against the wall. The smell of the coffee spread through the room as he poured and Amber's stomach growled.
“Hungry?” he asked, not even looking back at her.
“Yeah, I haven't eaten yet today. I probably should've but I didn't think of it until now.”
“Here, have one of these,” he said, gesturing to a box on the table beside him. “I keep a box of them around for days I'm running late. Not very busy first thing in the morning so I can normally have a chance to eat here if I need to.”
She stood up and walked over, helping herself to one of the danishes he'd pointed at. Once she took the first bite, she realized just how hungry she was. The danish was gone in seconds and she looked up to find Greg proffering her a cup of coffee.
“Sugar and creamer powder are right there. Help yourself to another danish if you like, you look like you need it.”
She added both sugar and creamer to her coffee and took a sip. Some days she tasted coffee and wanted to spit it back out, but today it was warm and sweet so she took a deep swallow. She grabbed another danish, then took that and the coffee back to the table.
Greg propped the door open so he could easily hear if anyone came into his shop, then took a seat himself. He sipped at his coffee as she drank hers and slowly worked her way through the second danish.
“No,” she said. “In answer to your question, I wasn't taking a nap. I looked through the books, then sat down at the table trying to figure out what I should do next. I might've started to doze off, but that wasn't my intention.”
“See any books that interested you?” he asked.
She grinned.
“Wizardry primers? Really? I didn't know you stocked gag books, especially ones that old.”
Greg's face took on a pensive look.
“Saw those, did you?”
She nodded.
“That would explain a lot,” he said, under his breath. “Well, I have a suggestion, but it's one I've made to you a few times and you've refused. I had a thought about it though, ma
ybe a little twist that might suit you.”
“Go ahead, so far I'm coming up blank unless I just want to turn myself in and end up in juvie or a foster home.”
“I told you before that I have a friend who could help you. You said you don't trust anyone though. How about I invite him down here and stay myself while you two talk for a bit. You can get a feel for him, I'll still be here so nothing untoward will happen, and he can see if he thinks he can help you.”
“Umm,” Amber said, thinking about it.
“Even if he can't help, he might have some ideas that you could use, no? It wouldn't hurt to try, would it?”
Wow, Greg is being pushier about this idea of his. Although I imagine my showing up like I did might account for that. He really does worry about me, it's a shame he's so old and scared.
“I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give that a shot.” she said. “As long as you're here I'm sure he won't try anything.”
“Charles wouldn't try anything anyhow. I've been trying to tell you that. He's helped a lot of kids over the last few years. Got them off the streets and into better situations. Some of them he's even taken care of himself, teaching them so they could do things to better their own situations.”
“His name's Charles? You hadn't mentioned that before.”
“Yes, his name is Charles and I've known him for years. I trust him with my life, have done so a couple of times in fact.”
“Really? You've never talked about your past, not even when I asked.”
“There are some things I can talk about and some things I shouldn't. When you get to be my age, it's sometimes hard to remember which is which, so I just don't talk about it at all. Keeps me out of trouble.”
“So, you aren't going to even give me any hints about what you and Charles used to do?”
He shook his head.
“No, I won't. But I will tell you that Charles can seem a bit stuffy. He isn't, really, but that's the face he likes to present to society. I'm sure you're familiar with the masks people wear so they seem to be what is expected, no?”