He smiled and Eleanor couldn't help but feel her heart melt. He had perfect white teeth and the smile seemed to shine out of the depths of those incredible light purple irises.
He casually stretched out a hand that engulfed hers. “I am Jöanth of Edínu.”
“Eleanor,” she managed, feeling an immense emptiness when she was forced to release his hand. “Eleanor of Confusia.”
Confusia? What does that even mean? She asked herself.
“You must have many questions,” he nodded his head forward, encouraging her to ask away.
“Uhm,” she floundered.
She had to get control of her raging heart and heat flashes, so she got up and moved towards the fridge. “Something to drink?” She asked, hoping to preoccupy her fluttering hand that had held his own not so long ago. She had to remind herself he was not her type. “Something cool or hot?” She asked, her hands pointing to the fridge and then her kettle, as if she was a product placement model in an infomercial. She felt like an idiot.
“Bottled spring water if you have,” he asked gently. “I don't mean to be rude, but your tap water has too many chemicals for my liking.”
“Oh,” she answered, floored again.
She opened her fridge and found some bottled water. She always had some on hand for when the urge overcame her to go hiking. With shaking hand, she handed one to him.
“Thank you,” he said, untwisting the cap and taking a large swallow.
He stopped when half the bottle was gone. He returned the cap slowly, looked at her and beckoned her to sit down.
Eleanor hadn't realized that she had still been standing. She sat down, still flustered.
Movement outside the window behind Jöanth caught her eye. A moving shadow, a Glitch. Of course the Glitches will come, she thought, my stress levels are way up.
“Something the matter?” Jöanth asked.
“Nothing. Just a Glitch. A shadow.”
Jöanth nodded sagely. “You have the Gift of Sight,” he said. “Otherwise you would not have seen me earlier today.”
“The Gift of Sight?” she asked cautiously.
“You can see what others cannot. We can discuss this later in great detail if you like, but first, I think you have more pressing questions. You may ask anything you like,” he prompted again.
“Who,” she stopped herself. “Jöanth, right? Where are you from? Why are you here? How can you turn invisible?” It bubbled out of her mouth without reserve.
Jöanth merely smiled. “I will answer as best I can,” he nodded. “I am from a world called Edínu. It is the center of the cosmos, the birthplace of life, the Creator's first.”
Eleanor merely nodded. She was certain her mouth was hanging open but she didn't care. She hoped that she wouldn't drool.
“I am an álvur Tracker, a Grimdark Tracker to be precise. A monster hunter if you like, and I am here on the trail of a beast that escaped from the Void. As an álvur, we have the ability to cloak ourselves from others. I do not know how it works, no one does, it is merely one of the Gifts our race received. I can turn it on and off as easily as speaking. You, however, can see me because you have your own Gift. Yours is what we call the Sight. You are able to view us, and other creatures who do not belong here on Terra, regardless of whether we are cloaked in an enchanted glamor, or not.”
He paused and looked expectantly at her.
“Wait,” she started. “That was too much and too fast. You said something about being a monster hunter, tracking a monster from the void, and you're from a different world, and gifts, and Terra?”
Is the Glitch my Gift of Sight? She wondered. All my life, I’ve been convinced that they were nothing but projections of an overactive imagination. That they were hallucinations.
Eleanor shuddered. Jöanth’s explanation for them was infinitely worse. It meant that they might have been real.
“Yes,” he continued. “Allow me to explain. As álvur, we are bound to protect life above all else. We stand as a line of defense between the Void and all life in the cosmos. There are different types of álvur, each with his or her own specific purpose that ties in with protecting Life on all worlds. My task is to hunt the creatures of the Dark who prey on the innocent. I track them wherever they may go. One such creature escaped from Edínu,” he paused briefly, “my home world,” he explained. “It came here to Terra,” he saw the slight frown on Eleanor's forehead. “You call it Earth, we call it Terra.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I tracked it from the great city of the East, New York, to this town. I believe it has taken up residence here. Why, I do not know. I have been tracking it for the last few days, but haven't been able to pinpoint its location just yet. Today had been the closest I had come to it.”
“In the park, today,” Eleanor realized.
Jöanth nodded.
“I'm sorry that I zapped you,” she said.
“Think nothing of it. You did what you thought best. Besides, if that had not been your reaction, we might not have met.” He smiled and she relaxed a little, feelings of guilt banished for now.
“You were trying to help the jogger,” she had to think a second before his name came to her. “Sam Fabre. The broker,” she added, as if trying to make up for forgetting his name for a second. She blamed it on exhaustion.
“Yes,” Jöanth nodded. “He was too far gone though. Even if you had not happened upon us, the proper help would not have reached him in time.”
Eleanor nodded sadly and there was a drawn out silence, as if they both grieved for him.
“Can I ask you something?” Eleanor asked after a while.
“Of course.”
“How can you speak English? Do you speak English in,” she couldn't recall the name, and let it hang in the air.
“Edínu,” he offered.
“Edínu,” she repeated.
He smiled his enigmatic little smile again, which was actually nothing more than an upward twitch of the left side of his mouth.
“I actually do not speak English,” he said. “What you hear is English, but I am speaking álvur. When you speak, I also don't hear English. I hear you conversing with me in álvur. In essence, I really have no idea what your language sounds like.”
“How is that possible?” Eleanor wondered aloud, positive that her mouth was hanging open again.
Jöanth shrugged. “It's one of life's mysteries.”
“Another alvar gift?”
“Álvur,” he corrected with a full smile. “Yes. And a handy one, especially when you travel to different worlds in search of unnatural killers.”
“I bet,” Eleanor nodded. “What can you tell me about this monster?”
“I was hoping you could actually help me out. I have not seen it yet, but I have a feeling you have.”
Eleanor nodded. “I guess I have,” she admitted. “I mean how many monsters could be out there, right?” She meant it as a joke, saying it lightly, but something in Jöanth's demeanor changed.
“More than you care to know.” He looked serious and sullen when he answered.
Eleanor was about to question his answer when he suddenly stood up and reached for the broadsword across his back. She hadn't noticed it before.
How can I have missed that? She wondered, once again writing it off to extreme exhaustion.
“Someone is coming,” he said, looking toward the front of her house. “Are you expecting someone?”
Eleanor shook her head and then remembered Sheriff Troger's promise of sending a physician to do a house call. She tried to placate the big man, towering above her, like she would if she were trying to calm a child. She made little sitting down motions with her hands, and had to smile at how preposterous it would look to him.
“I think it's the doctor. The sheriff said he would send someone over to give me some medication. And to probably check my mental status. I think he might be worried that I had a psychotic break.” She looked at Jöanth and smiled. “I was seeing invisible
men, remember?”
Jöanth didn't answer, but simply nodded his head. “There's something not right about him,” he said as he made way for Eleanor when the doorbell rang. “He doesn't quite walk or sound like a man. He’s too quiet. It's difficult to explain. Be careful. I will be close by.”
With that, he urged her to go to the front door just as the doorbell rang. She walked out of her kitchen, stopped, turned to ask for more clarity, but Jöanth had already moved out of sight. Eleanor shook her head and walked to the door, eyeing the person on the other end through the peep hole.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“Evening,” the voice drifted through the closed door. It sounded friendly enough. “I am doctor Walther Black. Troy asked me to come over.”
The fact that he mentioned the sheriff by first name told Eleanor that the two men had to be close acquaintances. Perhaps even friends. The sheriff was a good guy, and this was a doctor. Could Jöanth's sixth sense not be working very well? He did say that he had trouble tracking the Thing, right?
She shrugged and opened the door to a man in his late forties to early fifties, thinning light brown hair, casually dressed in denims and a navy blue t-shirt. She wasn't expecting someone in scrubs, but the doctor's attire surprised her. Perhaps it was his way of making his patients feel more at home when he made house calls. The doctor's bag of tricks was a dead giveaway of who he was though.
“Eleanor?” he asked with a friendly smile and kind eyes, holding out his hand.
Eleanor instantly liked him. The doctor had one of those easy and friendly demeanors that instantly put you at ease.
“Doctor Black,” Eleanor nodded in response and shook the man's hand.
The handshake was firm enough to indicate a strong character, but not so hard so as to intimidate. His hands were also soft and warm.
“Please, come in,” she said.
The doctor entered with a thank you, Eleanor closed the door behind her, seeing the deputy standing outside his car smoking a cigarette, and then ushered the doctor into her living room.
They took seats opposite each other.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Tough day,” he stated.
“I'm much better now,” Eleanor answered truthfully. “I guess I've had a chance to better process what happened today.”
Doctor Black nodded thoughtfully. “Care to share with me?” He smiled and held up his hands. “Don't stress, I'm not a shrink.”
Eleanor smiled back.
“Sheriff Troger probably told you the details, but I guess you want to hear them from me,” she said.
“Actually, Troy didn't tell me anything. He never does when it comes to police matters. He just told me that you came across a murder victim and that you might need a doctor's touch.”
Images of another time and another place flashed before Eleanor. Only this time it was in an urban jungle setting, a run-down housing project, home to the poor, vagrants, drug addicts, criminal elements. It was also the unjust final resting place of a ten year old kid named Markus Engbright. Like Sam Fabre this afternoon, Eleanor had found the child in a pool of blood. Only his blood hadn't been able to soak into the forest floor. The grimy, once white, floor tiles had showcased all of its crimson splendor.
She blinked, shook her head and forced the memory down into the depths where it was supposed to have been buried.
“Tough day,” she acknowledged his earlier statement. “Not the worst I've ever had, but tough, yeah.”
“You've had worse days?” the doctor asked, worried.
Eleanor nodded. “I used to be a reporter for Newsday and I covered the story of the Ice Cream Serial Killer. I was intimately involved with the case.” She sighed inwardly, hoping the dam wall wasn't about to burst. “I’ve experienced murder scenes before,” she ended, looking up into his eyes again. She hadn't realized that she had been staring at her tightly folded hands.
“I'm sorry to hear that,” the doctor offered with saddened eyes.
He would have made a great priest as well, Eleanor thought. Just like the sheriff, Doctor Black seemed to have a way to gain your trust by creating the impression that he genuinely cared about you.
“That's okay,” Eleanor smiled in return, trying her best to appear strong. “It's all in the past. And besides, I've left that life behind. That's why I'm living here again.”
Doctor Black smiled and gazed around the living room.
“You haven't changed much here,” he observed.
“You've been here before?” Eleanor asked, surprised.
She couldn't remember ever having met Doctor Black before, despite knowing that he was a physician at Havensford County.
“I was invited once to play poker,” he seemed to look at his eyebrows, trying to recall the details. “This was about seven years ago? Your mom had gone to New York for the weekend to visit you. Your dad had about seven of us over. I was invited through a mutual friend.”
Eleanor didn't know what to say.
“I wasn't invited back. My friend, Jack Raynor.”
Eleanor nodded, she knew Jack Raynor. He was an old high school buddy of her dad's.
“He said that your mom found out about our all-nighter. She found bags and bags of empty beer and liquor bottles and gave your dad all kinds of hell about it.” The doctor laughed and Eleanor joined in.
“Come to think of it,” she added. “My mom only ever visited me once on her own. After that, dad was always with.”
The doctor spread his hands, making her think of a wisely old priest again.
“Well, there you have it,” he chuckled. “That's the reason he was never left alone again.”
“Poor man,” Eleanor smiled.
Her mom had never liked alcohol much and her dad had always liked his bourbon. It had been a constant issue of contention between them for as long as Eleanor could remember. Thinking about them brought back fond memories.
Doctor Black nodded knowingly and reached for his medical bag.
“I think you'll be fine,” he said. “I'm going to leave you with some sleeping pills,” he held up a hand again to forestall any objections. “I'm not forcing you to take them,” he said. “But my suggestion is to take two of them tonight. They usually take about ten minutes to kick in and then you'll be ensured of a good, restful sleep.”
He produced a non-descript white box from his brown leather bag, and extracted a sheet of round pills. “I'm leaving you a sheet. That's enough for five nights. Again,” he held up one hand, while extending the other, giving her the pills. “It's not compulsory. Many people don't like the idea of sleeping pills, which is understandable. But there are times when they are warranted. You, better than anyone else, will know when you need them. Okay?”
Eleanor nodded. “Thanks Doc.”
He simply nodded, scrounged inside the bag again and gave her a business card.
“There's my personal number should you need it. You can call me anytime.” He made sure that she was looking him in the eye. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated. “I think my work here is done. Unless there is something else that ails you?”
Eleanor shook her head.
“No physical aches, pains?”
“None.”
He nodded. “Anything?”
Eleanor shook her head and extended her hand, standing up, signaling the end of the doctor's visit.
The doctor nodded, closed his bag and stood up as well.
“Thank you for coming,” she said earnestly. She didn't know of any other doctor who made house calls after one in the morning.
“My pleasure, Eleanor,” he said with a fatherly smile again. “Take it easy for the next few days, okay?”
“Okay,” she answered, walking him to the door.
“Okay,” he repeated again as she opened the door for him. “Sleep well,” he said walking outside.
He stopped and turned towards her, and something in his demeanor had changed. Elea
nor couldn't put her finger on it, but it was as if a switch had been flicked. It was almost like a palpable thing that hung in the air.
“Look after yourself,” he said in a strange, almost mocking tone of voice.
He winked at her, the corner of his mouth curling upwards and then he turned and walked down the pathway to his car, a Subaru SUV, which was parked in the street, behind Deputy Giles.
Eleanor followed his progress, a weird feeling having overcome her. What just happened? she asked herself.
The doctor didn't turn around again to face her. He casually waved at Deputy Giles, got in his SUV and drove off.
Why, with his parting, had the doctor all of a sudden come across as a completely different person? Eleanor hugged herself and realized that her arms were covered in goosebumps.
CHAPTER 33
Back in the kitchen, Eleanor found Jöanth pacing nervously around.
“There was something wrong with that man,” he said.
“Why do you say that?” Eleanor asked, sitting down.
“I couldn't read him.” Jöanth said, looking perplexed.
“And?” Eleanor asked after a moment of silence.
“And?” The question seemed to stump the álvur. “There is no and. The fact that I cannot read him is disconcerting enough. As a Tracker, I can sense things about people. With him,” he paused, and pinched his lips before continuing. “With that man there was nothing at all. I could not read him. At all.” He emphasized. “I have this uncanny feeling, that is not based on anything definitive, that something is off about him.”
“Off?”
“Not right. That was from listening and being in close proximity to him. I couldn't pick up anything from his vibrations. And that was before I saw his energy field. What you call an aura,” he said by way of explanation.
It didn't enlighten her at all.
“Aura?” she asked.
Jöanth stopped pacing and sat down opposite her. He adjusted his position, thought better of it, stood up again, took the broadsword from the sheath on his back, placed it on the small kitchen table, and sat down again.
Stirring Embers: An urban fantasy action adventure (The Light and the Void Book 1) Page 22