Dark Nebula (The Chronicles of Kerrigan)

by W. J. May

  “I love it.” She had a picture back in New York. She would get it copied and put in the necklace over Christmas break.

  “I saw it in an antique shop window and knew it would be perfect for you…well, hoped it would.” He stepped around and lifted the locket, admiring it around her neck.

  Rae stood on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. “It’s the best thing anyone’s ever given me.” She kissed him on the lips, enjoying the fluttering inside her as he returned the kiss.

  Gently, he pulled back. “Now I get to open mine. You keep up this distraction and someone’ll end up knocking on the door and I’ll have to hide my present.”

  “It’s nothing extravagant.” She shrugged, nervous about the silly gift she had chosen.

  Devon opened it, taking much more care with the wrapping than she had. He fumbled with the tape on the box and then pulled out the Swiss Army knife–one of the big ones with all the gadgets neatly folded inside.

  Rae bit her lip, nervous, as she watched him open its sides and turn the knife over a few times.

  “Hey, this is really cool! I could’ve used this quite a bit over the past few weeks. It’s got everything on it.” He opened the main knife and then squinted at the blade. “Is it a knock-off? Who’s DR. Swiss Army?”

  She swatted him on the shoulder. “Ha-ha. It’s Devon and Rae. I just had the guy put the engraving by the Swiss Army symbol so people won’t figure it out. I never figured you wouldn’t get it!”

  He started laughing. ‘You’re kidding!” He laughed again and reached for her locket. “If you lift the tissue on the right side, I had the same initials engraved. Even had them done in calligraphy to make them look old.” He hugged her and his breath was hot in her hair. “I love it—love the initials—love you.” His body froze.

  Rae’s heart jumped into her throat. She wanted to do a crazy, happy dance around him. I doubt that’s the mature thing to do. “The feeling’s mutual.” In the back of her mind, she wondered if she should tell him about his dad. But there was no way she was going to ruin this moment.

  He relaxed his iron-grip hug. Whatever fluttering Rae felt from his previous touches burned away to ashes in her memory when he kissed her.

  Suddenly everything that had seemed awful and worrisome the past few weeks drifted away.

  She didn’t try to interrupt him when Molly knocked and shouted from the other side of the door. Molly could have broken down the door; Rae wouldn’t have noticed.

  Chapter 18

  Christmas Break

  Molly and Rae lay in her double bed on the top floor of Uncle Argyle’s two-story home. During the night a heavy covering of snow had turned the outside world into a winter wonderland. The day after Christmas, Rae laughed when Molly woke, complained about a cold nose, and then scampered out of bed, shocked at the amount of frost on the windows.

  “New York City’s beautiful.” Molly blew hot air on the window to create a little opening to gaze into the bright, white backyard.

  “Yeah,” mumbled Rae, pulling the duvet tighter over her shoulder. “Till the snow plows come salting the roads and everything turns from white to nasty brown. Dirty snow mixed with mud and everything else”

  “People drive in this weather? If we had two inches of snow at Guilder, I betchya classes would be cancelled. Ha! They’d be cancelled if there was half an inch.”

  “Not here. You need about three feet before people start to act cautious. There are a lot of idiots on the road.” Rae sat up and shivered as the blanket fell away. She smiled as she watched Molly write her name on another panel of frosted window. She wondered if the leaded glass windows at Guilder would throw rainbows on the walls if they were frosted with snow.

  “Will shops still be open?” Molly glanced at Rae over her shoulder. “I feel the urge to buy a proper winter hat, scarf and mittens set. Maybe even a winter coat.”

  “No worries. The sales are waiting for you.” Rae put a tentative foot down on the hardwood floor, quickly pulling it back up when the coldness shot up her leg. She bent over the bed, looking for the slippers she had stuffed there last night. She found the old, fluffy rabbits with big ears near the foot of the bed.

  “You’re not gonna take those back to Guilder, are you?” Molly grimaced at the slippers, one eyebrow raised.

  “Hey, I’ve had these for four years. They’re awesome. They stop the ice-cold hands of death from creeping up from the floor. I’ve no idea why my uncle kept the hardwood throughout the entire house and then put ceramic tile in the kitchen. The floors here are like an ice rink.”

  “Wimp.”

  Rae tossed a pillow in Molly’s direction. “I never thought I’d live to see the day you’d call me a wimp.”

  “If the shoe—er, slipper fits—” Molly laughed. “By the way,” she said, pointing to a cabinet on the wall, “What’s with the tiny porcelain figurines? You’ve got about a thousand stuffed inside that tiny case.”

  Rae stared at the cabinet as a pang of sadness shot through her. “They’re whimsies from a company in England called Wade. My mom used to collect them. They’re hers.” Were hers.

  Molly moved and peered inside the glass. “They’re cute. I see little nursery figures and animals. You should see if it’s a set and find the missing pieces to complete it. Then it could be yours and your mom’s set. Maybe there’s a book about them.” She walked over to her suitcase and started digging through it. “How ‘bout we get some breakfast?”

  Rae smiled. Molly had a way of turning something sad into a good feeling. She went to the dresser and ran a finger lightly over her mom’s case. Miss you, Mommy. The locket around her neck bumped against her as she straightened. She reached and opened it. Yesterday she had found the picture of her mom and made a copy, which she had carefully cut and set into the locket. It was the last photo taken of her mom, and Rae loved it. They’d been outside playing in the grass and her mom had let her hold the digital camera. Her mom lay on her stomach peering up at Rae through the grass and her long hair. Gorgeous! The rest of the pictures Rae had done were blurry, or of grass, or something a six year old would focus on. This one just zoomed perfectly on her mom’s face.

  Closing the locket she tucked it under her shirt. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

  Throwing on hooded sweatshirts, the girls headed downstairs. The smell of bacon cooking met them in the hallway. Uncle Argyle stood in front of the stove, dressed in an old Scottish wool sweater and checkered pants. One of his hands absently mixed scrambled eggs with a spatula, the other held a book pressed close against his nose. Ah…home sweet home.

  “Morning. Is Aunt Linda gone?” Rae poured a glass of orange juice for Molly and one for herself. Devon’s locket pressed against her skin and she smiled to herself. Maybe she would put a picture of Devon behind the one of her mother’s. Then he would be even closer to her heart.

  “Oh, good morning. I didn’t notice you come in.” Argyle reluctantly closed the thick book and set it beside the stove. “Your aunt’s gone to her favorite pet store. There’s a big sale on cat accessories today. She was up at dawn, determined to be first in line to buy presents for King Arthur.”

  Rae rolled her eyes, and Molly hid her mouth behind a hand. King Arthur was Aunt Linda’s thirteen-year-old, very large, orange, crusty tabby cat.

  Molly grabbed three slices of toast and a handful of bacon. “Rae, I’m gonna jump in the shower so we can get a head start on those sales.”

  Rae nodded, not able to speak, her mouth full from stuffing two slices of greasy bacon into it.

  Molly disappeared, her feet pounding back up the stairs.

  Uncle Argyle set a large bowl of scrambled eggs onto the table and, book in hand, disappeared down the hall. Blowing her bangs away from her face, Rae watched him go until a thought occurred to her. This was her chance to talk to him about her parents, and likely to be the only one she got, considering the fact that this subject was basically off-limits when Aunt Linda was aro
und. Of course, Argyle had never really talked…about anything, but specifically about her parents. Still—she had to try. She stood quickly, grabbed her plate and chased after him.

  Outside the closed study door, she hesitated. Inhaling a deep breath for courage, she knocked on the wood and stepped inside. The musty scent of old books greeted her along with the crackling noise from the wood burning in his fireplace. Her uncle sat behind his antique desk, his mouth open in surprise.

  “Is there—Can I—something—” His voice trailed off, his words as awkward as the rest of him. Good ‘ol Uncle Argyle. Speaking never has been a skill he cultivated. As ridiculous as it sounded, his awkwardness made her feel awkward too.

  Rae chewed her lip and spun the antique globe by the leather couch with her hand. Uncle Argyle had attended Guilder years ago, thinking he would be marked at sixteen. Instead, his sister, Rae’s mother, had received the tatù when Argyle was still fifteen. He had been required to come home, to teach his sister everything he had learned from Guilder. After Rae’s parents died eleven years ago, Argyle had taken her in and never mentioned the tatùs. Guilder had invited Rae to attend their boarding school, seemingly out of the blue. Even then, he had shuffled her off “across the pond” without even the vaguest of explanations. Until her first day at Guilder, she had known nothing of her tatù heritage, her father’s evil plan to dominate the world, or the power that she received on her sixteenth birthday. He rarely spoke of the gift and made it clear that Aunt Linda had no idea and would never learn of it. Was it worth bringing up old memories when he clearly wants nothing to do with them?

  Rae decided to dive in headfirst. No sense in prolonging the conversation with polite chitchat. It would only make her uncle more uncomfortable. She took a deep breath. “Do you remember anything weird about my dad when you went to Guilder? Last year, Lan—Lanford said you two were good friends,” she rambled, feeling like Molly. “I was just hoping you might know something that might help figure out why all the people followed—still follow him.”

  Staring down at his book, Argyle scratched his beard. He made no effort to answer Rae’s question.

  She shifted her weight from foot to foot and heard the shower water shut off. Closing her eyes as she shook her head, she gave up, turned and reached for the door.

  “Your father attracted people. He was very charismatic.”

  Rae stopped— hand on the brass knob, shocked that her uncle had made the effort to answer. Slowly, she stepped back and sat on the love seat by the wall, waiting. She set her breakfast plate on the end table beside the love seat. The huge, fat cat crept out from under the love seat and began purring as it rubbed itself against Rae’s calf.

  Argyle cleared his throat. “Wisdom is wasted on the young.” He glanced at Rae. “Sorry. While I attended Guilder, your dad butted heads with certain teachers, but I don’t remember anything that might have shown the path he would take. I’ve asked myself that many times. I believed in him. It was easy to.” He continued to pull at the whiskers of his beard and stopped talking for a few moments. “We did start a youth group, kind of like a fraternity. Boys did those sorts of things at the time. Our little society had strategies to change the world, you know, make it a better place. I acted as secretary.” He chuckled. “I even kept minutes of our secret meetings.”

  “Secret?” Rae straightened at the word, sending the cat shooting back under her seat.

  Argyle smiled, and in that moment, Rae saw a flash of her mother. They have the same expressions. Unaware of Rae’s distraction, Argyle continued. “Not much of a secret. We thought of ourselves as covert world changers, but nothing was truly hush-hush. The entire school knew, and other students teased us about our hopes to fix the world.” He shrugged. “I think the little group lasted one term and died out over the summer holidays.” He chuckled. “We even had a name for ourselves.”

  Rae grinned, thinking it funny her uncle had been part of a fraternity. He didn’t seem the type. “What did you call yourselves? Sigmund Beta Freud?”

  “No Greek, just simple English for us Guilder boys.” He tapped his temple. “What did we use? It was a pseudonym—something silly. I think I may still have the notebook of minutes tucked away in some old trunk in the attic, or maybe it’s down here on one of these bookshelves.” He swept his hand around the room, indicating the nine antique cases full of books. “I should look for it one day. One might get a kick out of reading it.”

  So much for getting usable intel. “Thanks.” Rae stood. “I appreciate you taking the time to tell me. I should go warm up my plate of eggs and check on Molly. She really wants to go shopping today.”

  His head bent, her uncle already back to reading his book. “Have a good time.”

  She opened the door and stepped halfway through when her uncle spoke again.

  “House of Cards. That’s what we called ourselves.”

  “Why House of Cards?”

  He chuckled. “To show how big things can be built on a flimsy foundation. How the greatest assets can come tumbling down. We, as kids, thought we could change the world, or at least the authority at Guilder or the Privy Council.” He shrugged. “We were boys, pretending to be men. We called the group HOC for short.”

  The plate of eggs slipped from Rae’s fingers and plummeted to the floor. The porcelain shattered and eggs exploded down the hallway. She dropped to her knees, scooping up the scattered breakfast and cupping the bits into her shaking hand. HOC? House of Cards? H.O.C. Holy crap!

  “Are you okay?” Molly came down the stairs.

  “Is everything alright?” Uncle Argyle called from the study.

  “Fine. The plate slipped from my hand.” Rae looked around, grabbing an antique sterling dish off the small table nearest to her. She tossed the eggs and bits of plate into the potpourri mix and set it back on the table. She stood, shaking inwardly, trying to appear relaxed. Inside, she felt like the scattered eggs. “Let me get dressed. You want to get going?”

  “Definitely.”

  Rae reached for the study door, sticking her head inside just before closing it. “Uncle Argyle?”

  “Hmmm?” He didn’t glance up.

  “Do you think you could find that old minutes book?” She ran her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “I think it’d be kind of cool to read.”

  Argyle half-heartedly waved a hand at her in acquiescence. “Sure. I’ll have a look over the holidays.”

  “Thanks.” Rae closed the door, determined to find the old journal before she flew back to Guilder.

  Chapter 19

  Rain, Rain, Go Away

  Between shopping and “girl time”, the holiday in New York went faster than Rae thought it would. Part of her wanted to be back in England, but the other part loved being with her aunt and uncle. Both parts of her enjoyed Molly’s constant chatter, and it gave Rae the time to think and daydream about Devon. She wondered what he had been up to and if he had spent Christmas at home or working. Has his dad said anything? If he does, what will Devon do? It drove her nuts with worry and the fact that her cell phone refused to work in America didn’t help.

  Uncle Argyle didn’t find the notebook with the minutes from his time at Guilder. Rae had been too scared to ask him to look again. If she placed too much emphasis on it, there was no telling how Argyle would react. The one thing she didn’t need was for Argyle to know anything about what had happened last year at Guilder and what they were up against now. So instead of hounding him for the notebook, she backed off. As he dropped Molly and her off at the airport, she mentioned posting the notebook to her if he came across it. He gave her only a curt nod. She had no idea if he would even bother.

  Molly and Rae returned to Guilder the day before classes resumed. They took the same bus she had taken to Guilder the previous year. Rae couldn’t wait to get back to her own room, for a bit of peace and quiet. Dean Wardell’s demand constantly nagged at the back of her mind. She needed to see Devon and let her insides flutter as they always did whe
n she was around him. He would show her the strength of their relationship and nothing and no one could crumble it… she hoped. She knew neither Devon nor Julian were back, and from Devon’s lack of replies to her texts, she figured he was working. Guess the HOC-thing will have to wait until I have something solid to share with Carter, or Devon.

  “Thank goodness this is our last semester,” Molly said Thursday morning as they walked to their first class. “I can’t wait to sleep in and not have to leave the building to eat.”

  “What’re you planning on doing next year?” Rae shifted her umbrella so the January downpour didn’t leave her soaking wet inside the Oratory. The weather matched her mood this morning; dark, dreary and depressed. An email from Devon, furtively checked before class, advised that he and Julian would not be back until the end of the week. More work for the Privy Council. “Do you want to work for the Privy Council?”

  “Heavens no! Well, I shouldn’t say that. I just don’t think it’s something I want to do right now. Secrets, espionage, and all the double-oh-seven stuff doesn’t seem like my kind of thing. I applied to Cardiff University. I can’t imagine carrying on the family mechanic shop business, too dirty. I’m not sure yet what I want to do.” Molly pulled her raincoat tighter around her. “This weather sucks. If it weren’t for Reece, I’d be applying to the University of Florida or somewhere in Spain, anywhere hot.”

  “You’re pretty serious about Reece…Does he feel the same?” Rae asked. How are you supposed to know how serious someone feels about you?

  “Yeah, he does! We had this big talk just before Christmas break. He’s gonna try and get a job transfer to the area and he’s got family there. I want to take the next logical step.” Molly’s tone changed from her normal babble, to a leading hint of secrecy at the end, as if she would not say, but really wanted Rae to ask what she meant.