by Amy Marie
“What do you mean, my dear?” his voice lowers in concern.
“Well, when you asked me to agree to help you, I didn’t imagine it would be anything like what it’s turned out to be. But aside from that, when I agreed to stay for the week to help with locating the Statera, I just sort of assumed that once I remembered and we found the book, Darcy would be able to break his curse, and I would be able to resume my old life.”
“Ah, I see,” he says. “You didn’t quite realize the magnitude of the situation?”
“I didn’t realize my own level of involvement and that this would affect the rest of my life. There’s no quick fix. I’ll need to change my school schedule, my lifestyle, avoid the dark, possibly lose my job, friends, and family all in an effort to protect them. It changes everything.”
“I understand. You are struggling with being placed into the position that you have. But you have a responsibility to ask yourself; what are you willing to sacrifice? Every one of us who has gotten involved in this has had to ask ourselves that same question. And the ones who are here helping you are the ones who are willing to sacrifice it all in the battle of good versus evil.”
I hang my head.
He leans forward, grabbing my attention. “Your job can be replaced, your friends and family can be kept safe and protected, and a new lifestyle can be adapted. Change is scary, but I can’t force it on you, or pin you to what I think your obligations are. Wasn’t it Gandhi that said ‘You must be the change that you wish to see in the world’?” he asks. “Sometimes it takes sacrifice for balance to be restored.”
His words strike me to the core.
“Balance,” I say, thinking out loud. “He said something about balance.”
“Who did?” Uncle Mike’s interest sharpens.
“Talbot,” I say. “In the memory. He talked about disrupting the balance.” I’d forgotten the part of the memory in which Talbot hauntingly spoke.
“What exactly did he say?” Uncle Mike asks, practically wiggling in his seat.
I concentrate for a moment to recall his exact words. “He said, ‘the light is subdued, and I have the power to prolong the darkness. It begins now, the balance will shift, emptiness will consume, and I will remain until everything is destroyed into nothing.’”
I look at Uncle Mike’s reaction for a hint of what Talbot could have meant. His face remains carefully blank. “Do you understand it?” I ask.
“The literal translation for Statera is balance, that much I know. But without the information contained within the book, we cannot know for sure what he may have meant by that. Have you shared this information with Darcy?” he asks.
“I forgot about that part of the memory until just right now, but I think I’ll wait until he calms down to speak to him about it,” I say.
“A brilliant idea,” Uncle Mike confirms, “Now, let’s see what we can do about making some compromising adjustments for you.”
After making a few phone calls and various arrangements, Uncle Mike finds a spot for me on his staff at the Divinity school, if I am willing to accept the position.
Although I loved my job at the historical society, this will be a better fit for the current situation. I’m amazed at the opportunity found within this mess, and so the offer is gratefully accepted under one condition – we have to involve Rafe.
Uncle Mike then sets to work arranging for one more position on his staff, promising to offer it to Rafe at an opportune time of his discretion.
He agrees that Rafe will need to be included into the complete knowledge of the Statera, including Darcy and his story. However, he convinces me to wait at least until we have the book in our possession.
He also agrees that Char will need to be somewhat filled in as well with all the changes that will be happening in our lives, and most importantly because her life is now in danger by association. He reassures me that our family back home in Ohio is safe, and will remain guarded.
Finally, he agrees that the sanctuary needs to be updated and upgraded to accommodate more people, and to expand the electricity and plumbing. If Darcy’s not comfortable with these renovations, then an alternate sanctuary can be updated to lodge any of us that might need protection. He assures me that staying here on campus is the best option, and that there are underground tunnels linking several of the buildings, so expansion is completely reasonable.
We both decide to bring up the changes to Darcy together, to ensure there’s a support system for whomever he unleashes his temper on.
Uncle Mike is going out of his way to ensure my comfort through this difficult transition of change. Satisfied with the compromises we made, I go back down to the sanctuary with a sense of renewed hope.
Chapter 23
That night, Uncle Mike joins us for dinner in the sanctuary after working all afternoon on his arrangements. As we sit at the bench table, Darcy serves up an unusual dinner in the form of pickled herring. Not being a huge fan of anything associated with fish, I fill up on bread and vegetables as Uncle Mike attempts his introduction of ideas to Darcy.
Darcy’s skin tone turns a delicious shade of red in obvious displeasure at the mention of making changes to his home. But I never would have anticipated his reaction to the idea of bringing Rafe down to be a part of our endeavors.
“No,” he growls. “We have a guardian.”
“He has the proper potential, and as you know, I’m an old man. It would be a wise choice to begin to train another, and I don’t see how it could possibly hurt having two on hand.”
“We do not need him!” Darcy raises his voice in disagreement.
“We do need him!” I speak up.
Darcy gives me a pointed look. It seems I’ve overstepped my boundaries by daring to speak up for Rafe. Brushing off the annoyance of his reaction, I ask, “What do you mean by guardian? You’d mentioned that Gabriel was one.”
The two men glance at each other and something passes over my head, but I most definitely take notice. There’s still something they’re not telling me.
“Guardians of the Statera,” Uncle Mike answers for Darcy. “Gabriel was a guardian. The responsibility was passed down through his family. Though we lost the text, the things we do know must still be passed on to help those with the reminiscence reach their potential. I suppose you could say I am guarding that knowledge, and Darcy, while working all I can to put the pieces together and recover the text. I will eventually train a new guardian as my own grandfather trained me… and I have chosen Raphael.” The last few words were directed with a deliberate stare in Darcy’s direction.
At my wrinkled brow, Uncle Mike adds, “There are other people that know about the Statera, but there always must be a guardian. Just as there always must be souls with reminiscence. This ensures the information will not be lost or forgotten.”
“More often than not, the guardian ends up bringing the souls together. At least that is how it seems,” Darcy says, tipping his head at Uncle Mike.
That makes sense to me, thinking about Gabriel and Uncle Mike. Although it still seems in my head that fate had a small hand in the situation. After all, if I would have stayed in Ohio, I may never have even met Uncle Mike. I never would’ve known about any of this.
Or would they have found me regardless?
Philosophical questions swirl in my head as the two men at the table argue out more details concerning Rafe.
“As we have already just found each other, there will be no need for this Raphael to be involved,” Darcy says.
“Rafe can help technologically, he’s a computer whiz. It can’t hurt having him help us out. And he knows more about the Statera than you two may think, though I’m not sure how,” I say, feeling the need to argue Rafe’s case in his absence.
Darcy slams down his drink on the table. Looking at me unkindly for the first time to my knowledge, he says to me, “Perhaps you and Rafe would like to work on your own? I am sure you can figure everything out between the two of you.”
Uncl
e Mike coughs uncomfortably in an effort to stop anything that may have come out of my mouth in retort. I shoot Darcy an irritated glance as my mouth flattens to a thin line. His jaw is flexing to the rhythm of his internal struggles, and his cheeks are so flushed they’re nearly purple.
HE IS JEALOUS!
My mind can’t comprehend this situation, or quite how to handle it. I don’t recall ever making anybody jealous before in my entire life. A deep, dark secret part of me almost enjoys the feeling after my own struggles with his Eleanor. But I do my best to extinguish that selfish train of thought.
A part of me wants to reassure Darcy that Rafe is just a friend, but a more stubborn part of me tells myself that I shouldn’t have to.
In an effort to calm things down I shrug, and say, “Darcy, you’ve fought this battle the longest, and it should be up to you to choose whom you would like to include in our mission. I simply thought Rafe might be an asset for us all. Either way, I’m sure now that we’ve found each other, we’ll succeed, as long as we work together.”
Though my feelings are sincere with each word, I also know that flattery can restore any man’s ego – even a two hundred plus year-old one. After a few moments of grudging silence, Darcy concedes and agrees to include the new guardian.
Uncle Mike shoots me a knowing look that screams well done.
We all move on to discuss renovation plans of the sanctuary, deciding to work on an additional space connected by tunnel first to remain safe. Once that work is complete, we can then move over to that space to allow work to be done below Andover Hall. Uncle Mike assures us that he can have everything arranged with the right people and get to work fairly soon.
Finally, we discuss Char.
“She’s getting a little restless. I keep having to make excuses for her to stay in during the evenings,” Uncle Mike says.
“We just have to tell her sooner rather than later to keep her safe,” I say with worry. Honestly, I’m surprised that she hasn’t already snuck out and been in danger in the middle of the night.
“Perhaps I can bring her around Saturday,” he says to me, before he looks over for approval from Darcy.
“Whatever keeps her safe,” Darcy says in agreement, and I dimple up at him in thanks.
“Now,” Uncle Mike starts, “I have begun to develop a plan to retrieve the book, but I wanted to run it by the two of you before I started to make the final arrangements.”
Darcy and I lean forward at the same time.
“I was thinking of sneaking someone into the mill apartment building early Friday morning to bust a pipe in the basement. I then thought we could pose as plumbers to take a look around, and come up with an excuse to dig around a bit. I figured we could have our Eleanor here pose as a trainee to direct where to dig. Being down there might spark some memory perhaps?”
I nod my head in agreement. After all, I want to be there for the discovery.
“The problem is, we’ll have to do it during the day for safety from Talbot. Which also means that Darcy cannot attend,” he says.
“Well who would go with me? Surely no one would believe you’re a plumber,” I say to Uncle Mike.
“There lies our problem. I want to be on hand for the dig, but I know we will need a young man for muscle and to pose as the man in charge. We have a few associates here who know of Darcy, but most of them are close to my age.” He turns to Darcy, “I think we may need to utilize Raphael sooner than we thought. I wanted to wait until we had the book for his protection, but it seems we’re a little shorthanded in youth.”
I can tell Darcy is not a fan of the idea, but he seems to be embarrassed from his display earlier, so he keeps his reaction blank. The only thing giving him away is the red color returning to his cheeks.
“I suppose you both will be spending a great deal of time tomorrow bringing Rafe up to speed,” he says, his voice a little too flat.
Seeing his obvious inner turmoil is starting to have an effect on me. I turn to Uncle Mike looking for guidance. He just shrugs and motions his eyes in Darcy’s direction while trying to suppress a smile. His look is telling me to just comfort the man, there’s no way either of us can understand his struggles.
I put my hand on Darcy’s arm in an effort to soothe any qualms he may be having in letting another person become involved. “We’ll all be busy. We should all do it together.”
After dinner and a bit more discussion of final arrangements, we all agree to meet in the morning up in Uncle Mike’s office to speak to Rafe. Uncle Mike takes his leave, and Darcy and I are left alone in the great room.
Darcy moves to change out and light more candles. “I suppose I must get used to the idea of electricity all of the time, but I have always relished the ambiance of candlelight,” he says.
“It can’t hurt to have both, each at your disposal,” I say offhandedly, sitting down with my journal.
“My needs have always been sufficiently met in my home. I have never needed more than I have here,” he challenges back.
“Having more options can sometimes make things easier,” I retort, feeling stubborn enough to argue back.
“More is not necessarily always greater, Nora, sometimes it is just cluttering. There is a quality that has been lost over time; the simplistic enjoyment of life has been clouded by materialistic ideals.”
I grudgingly keep quiet, realizing that he would know better than me from his experience over time. After a moment, I ask, “Has society’s progression been so awful for you?”
“Do you enjoy today’s society?” he asks back.
My instinct is to answer no, since I’ve never quite found my place in it. But I find myself slightly defensive of the generation I was born into. I decide to evade the question altogether, and open my journal.
My answering silence is enough for him. “The balance has indeed shifted. Things just are not how they used to be, and we are on a swift decline,” he reflects.
There it is, the balance again. I bring up what Talbot said in Eleanor’s memory and relay it to Darcy. He broods over the information for a few moments.
“If you would think back and remember how things used to be, you would be able to see it as well,” he says quietly. “People used to have respect, honor, and loyalty while fearing consequences. There of course was some bad in the world, but it was not overwhelming. It was balanced. Every once in a while, the balance was disrupted, but we were able to fight back.”
He stands up and paces in front of the fireplace.
“For almost the past three hundred years, things have been steadily declining. I did not notice it happening around me in the deceiving manner that it has happened. We think we are evolving, but it is a deceptive illusion. Looking back, I can see it all now. The world is filled with more wars, killings, and destruction. Lies have become a natural way of life, and selfishness has taken over and conquered grace. Faith, hope, and love have become fairy tales. Things are happening today that were unspoken of in the distant past. A social evolution at the expense of moral transgression. I believe that what Talbot said is true, and it is only a matter of time now before major destruction takes hold. This time we must not fail. The balance must be restored.”
Darcy ends his pondering out loud, and turns to me as if making a decision about something. “I am sorry about earlier. We do need all the help we can get, and I will be happy to have Raphael on our team.”
“I agree, and I’m glad,” I say, relaxing a bit from the earlier tension. “The last thing I wanted to do was make you feel like I was uncomfortable here with you. I’m just a little overwhelmed. I want my family safe, and I miss having a hot shower over hauling buckets of water to the bath every day.”
“I am trying to be patient,” he says, “though that is not my strong suit. I remember how difficult it was to grasp the reality of the situation. ‘Where there is great power, there must be great responsibility.’”
At that, I start laughing and don’t stop until my side is aching.
&n
bsp; “Did you just quote Spiderman?” I ask when I catch my breath.
He gives me a confused look, which sends me into a fit of more giggles.
“That is a quote from Voltaire,” he says.
My laughter grows even louder at the generational gap as the same quote references our diverse generations. Darcy is paraphrasing an old French philosopher, and all I can think of is a comic book hero. I have to admire how the sentiment of the message holds true to withstand the test of time.
Darcy clearly finds it difficult to watch me in hysterics without joining in at the misunderstanding. We laugh together as any remaining tension from the day melts away.
When I calm, I begin to yawn thinking of the daunting tasks the next few days will hold. Writing in my journal will have to wait. I decide to get up and make ready for bed.
Darcy is there in an instant to grab my hand to kiss it goodnight. My immediate instinct is to rush off to my room to avoid the overwhelming intimacy, even after our kiss earlier in the day. Pausing, I’m reminded of the past few days of his teasing and my vow to get him back.
Two can play at this game.
My eyes are glued to the floor until he speaks his goodnight. I can hear the smile in his voice as I coyly look up into his eyes. Knowing that the charge would come still did not prepare me for the level of intensity as our eyes meet, but I hold strong with a new purpose.
Darcy’s eyes are twinkling, waiting for me to turn and run. Fighting that urge, I move just a bit closer to him and angle my face just inches from his.
“Goodnight, Darcy,” I whisper in a brazen voice I’ve never used before.
He closes his eyes, and I am right on target as he leans in.
I turn and leave him high and dry, bolting to my room. The laughter escapes from me as I make it to the door and quickly shut it.
Justice!
I lean against the solid wood of the door and let out a little steam that may have built up from the encounter. My body silently moves in the kind of victory dance reserved for moments when there’s no audience.