There was some significance to its close vicinity.
Jöanth could feel that it was all connected somehow. He just couldn't see the bigger picture. A Tree being so close to the home where Eleanor grew up explained why her Gift might have been activated, or even heightened. The Trees had a tendency to trigger a dormant Gift in those who were lucky to have been born with it.
Jöanth shook his head, trying to get his thoughts in order again. He had been going through the events of the day.
The morning had been spent walking aimlessly around the town, hoping that he would happen across the creature's fresh scent and he would be able to hone in on it. But that had proved useless. It was as if he was always a few steps behind the creature, unable to catch up.
Lunch had consisted of foraging in the woods for berries and fruit. Jöanth was loathe to hunt for rabbit or other small animals and had been content when he found a patch of black chokeberries in the woods, supplemented by wild mushrooms, nuts, and finished off with flower blossoms from the basswood tree. Sated, he knew there would be no need to kill for food later in the day.
The latter part of the afternoon had been spent at the sheriff's office in the hope of hearing of any strange occurrences. He sincerely hoped that the svartálvur hadn't started a killing spree yet, but any news would be welcome. He was hoping the svartálvur was busy with other less deadly, but equally nefarious, and noticeable work. This hope proved fruitless.
Jöanth had been contemplating where he would start his evening patrol when his internal radar had kicked in and given off a loud ping. He instantly knew in which direction to go. He made his way towards his prey, the feeling of proximity growing stronger as he neared the woods on the eastern end of town.
He had done everything as his training and instincts had required. He had been downwind, silent, ready for anything, and most importantly, he didn't hesitate. He went in for the kill, but instead, found the runner bleeding to death. His quarry had turned tail and had run. Jöanth had a decision to make. Give chase or try and save a life.
The choice had been obvious and Jöanth didn't regret his decision. He would do it again should the choice be repeated. He would never leave someone in need of help to fend for themselves. It wasn't in his nature.
It was unfortunate that Eleanor happened upon him as she did. Yes, he had been shrouded in his cloak of invisibility and a normal human would not have known of his presence. Most would have passed by without even slowing down and he could have continued administering his healing powers. But in the end, Jöanth realized, it wouldn't have helped. The man's time had come. That was how it was meant to be. This was how he and Eleanor were destined to meet. Jöanth accepted it without question.
He had learned a long time ago that the wrong questions simply led to more questions. And sometimes it was better to just accept matters.
A human being might have wondered what could have happened if he had only moved faster. Or what might have happened if he had approached from a different angle. A man's life could have been saved if only he had done something differently, right?
Wrong.
Jöanth didn't waste time with thoughts like these. They served no purpose. Yes, a man had died at the hands of a terrible creature. It had been an unnatural and violent death. Jöanth, however, could not accept any responsibility for the man's death though. He had done what he could to help the victim. More than that he could not have done.
Jöanth continued with his daily internal report, trying to see if he had missed a vital piece of evidence that could lead him to the svartálvur. Failing that, he focused on Eleanor.
He recalled, in almost eidetic detail, the chain of events that followed his meeting with Eleanor. He recalled Eleanor's reactions, facial expressions, the things she had said. He had missed her initial few minutes at the police station, but by the time he had reached her, he was sure he hadn't missed much. She had embellished the truth a little by not telling them that she had shot at him, and later recanted having seen him when the sheriff had arrived (for obvious reasons), but Jöanth was convinced that she was an honest and trustworthy person.
Running through their interaction tonight led him to believe that she was a remarkable woman. Strong-willed, intelligent, fearless. She was a warrior and an ally worth having.
Having come to this conclusion, Jöanth did a quick tour of her house. He supposed it would be considered an upper-class dwelling by human standards. It had three bedrooms, two full bathrooms, a kitchen big enough to house a small table and four chairs, a separate dining room with a table and seating for six, and a study, which doubled as a well-stocked library. Jöanth casually gazed at the titles, opened a few books, read a few pages. Although Jöanth didn't know any of the titles and deduced that most of it was non-fiction that dealt with police procedure, forensics, pathology, and criminal law. He wondered what kind of work Eleanor did. She seemed to have a profession that would appeal to her warrior instincts.
Finally, he made his way to the lounge. It was fairly large with comfortably upholstered couches offering ample seating. Jöanth looked out of the window and saw the deputy yawning in his vehicle across the street. The lawman wouldn't be much help against the creature, but Jöanth took some comfort in the fact that a fellow protector was out there, looking out for Eleanor.
Overall, the house was well-kept and neat. The carpets looked clean, were thick and well-woven, even for human standards. The walls were adorned with either oil paintings or framed photographs. All of them depicted various scenes of nature and were beautiful in their simplicity. There were no humans, buildings, modes of transport or anything man-made in them. Most were panoramic scenes of nature and very few contained animals.
Jöanth approved of the nature theme that was prevalent throughout the house. Eleanor loved the outdoors, which was evident in little details across the home. Polished rocks in the foyer area, well-worn hiking boots tucked into a nook behind the front door, fresh flowers in the kitchen, wooden ornaments, wooden furniture. Eleanor's house had a homely feel to it. It felt like a good home. Jöanth could tell that she had enjoyed a happy childhood here, and that as an adult she was equally content here.
Returning to the study, Jöanth switched off the only remaining light inside the house. It was time to rest and recharge.
He took off his shoes and socks, grabbed his sword, silently sliding it from its scabbard and went down on one knee. He balanced the sword over his knee, closed his eyes, made a fist with his right hand, and rested his left over the right, placing both hands on the flat part of the blade.
“Oh, Great Creator,” he began his nightly ritual.
“I thank Thee for another day in service to You.
May I have done you proud in all I said, did and thought.
Grant me the thoughts, words and deeds in my coming days to honor and please You.
Grant me the strength and willpower to oppose and reject the Adversary in all his forms and advances.
Close my mind to distraction and resistance and open it to clarity and purpose.
Lead me in all that I do, so that I in turn may soothe, guide, encourage, bring awareness, justice, and advance Life and the Light.
Allow me to respect and have dignity towards all living creatures in Your service.
May Your glory and Light shine through in all I do.
My life in service to You.”
Jöanth lifted the sword to his lips and kissed the cold álvur blade that had been crafted thousands of years ago. The sword was called Drÿmwÿn and had served the righteous since the dawn of time. The Warrior's Prayer was inscribed on it in an ancient dialect and the words echoed with mystical power whenever spoken. They were the same words that the blade had heard tens of thousands of nights before this one, from hundreds of other Trackers before Jöanth.
The words seemed to reverberate through Drÿmwÿn, making it thrum with energy. If you were to place your ear to the blade, you might have been lucky enough to hear those thousands upo
n thousands of chanted words echo deep within it. They all said the same thing: My Life in Service to You.
CHAPTER 35
Eleanor woke with a start, as if she had forgotten something, or expected something to happen. She was dismayed to see the sun shining already, and by the light that filtered into her room, the shining orb had been up for several hours. She had overslept, something that rarely happened.
She took her phone off airplane mode, saw that she had missed messages and a voicemail from the sheriff and decided to call him immediately, while she was still wiping cobwebs from the corner of her eyes.
“Morning, Miss Kraye,” he answered on the third ring.
“Good morning, Sheriff,” Eleanor answered stifling a yawn. “You were looking for me? I hope it wasn't anything urgent. I had my phone off and slept in, sorry.”
“No, no,” he said quickly, sounding distracted. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I had to pull the deputy from your house this morning, but before he left, he knocked on your door and didn't get an answer. He did walk around your property, checking for signs of forced entry but couldn't see anything. He figured you took the sleeping pills Doc Black gave you and were still sleeping it all off.”
“Uhm, yeah,” she answered, remembering that there had been no need for them. She suddenly remembered that Jöanth had spent the night in her study. “All okay over here,” she said, a little too quickly for her liking. “I just woke up. All's good.”
The sheriff didn't seem to notice though. “You sure all is okay,” it sounded like an afterthought. Something you said just before you hung up.
“Yip,” she answered, hearing playful and excited cheering in the background. “Everything okay on your side?” she countered, forcing the topic off of her well-being.
“Oh, yes.” He answered. “I'm at my kid’s soccer game. I'll check in with you later. Are you home today?”
“I should be, yes. I work from home, so if I'm out, I won't be too far.”
She wanted to meet with the girls today. A lot had happened yesterday and she wanted them to meet Jöanth. That was definitely on her schedule.
“Okay, then,” he answered. “Take care now.”
“Bye, enjoy the game.” Eleanor answered as the phone went dead.
She checked her other messages while on the toilet, and saw that Dan Almeida had phoned her three times already. She sighed and finished off in the bathroom first before calling him back.
This might be a difficult call, she thought, still unsure of how much she was going to tell him.
Dan picked up after the second ring. It showed how much he cared about her. Usually, the old bear would only answer the second call.
“Eleanor,” he let it hang, like a parent would.
“Hi Dan, I’m okay.”
“And you only think of phoning me now?”
“I’m sorry,” she said rolling her eyes. Dan was like a father to her, but sometimes he was insufferable.
“I bet you’re not, but I’ll let it slide this time. Why didn’t you call me last night already?” he rattled the words off like a drill sergeant would. Short, clipped, loud. It painted a picture of the aging detective on the other end of the line perfectly. “The first I hear that you’re in trouble is from your hometown Sheriff.”
The reproach in his voice was evident.
“I didn’t really have time to phone people from the interrogation room.”
There was a moment of silence.
“You could at least have phoned me when you got home, kiddo.”
“I know, I’m sorry. It was all just so hectic. And I was dead tired.” And I had a visitor from another world telling me that monsters are real. You tend to forget phone calls then...
“But you’re okay?”
Eleanor could tell that Dan was worried. The poor man didn’t have many loved ones left in his life.
“I’m fine, Dan. I promise. I even managed to get some sleep. No night terrors, can you believe that?”
There was a moment of silence again.
“That’s at least good news. Did the sheriff arrange for someone to be with you last night? I told him he had to, or I was going to come down there personally. Did he?”
Eleanor couldn’t help but smile.
“He did, thanks Dan. I had a deputy parked outside my door all night. And there really is no reason for you to come up here. I am fine.”
“I’ll make a plan to visit from Wednesday and then I’ll stay over the weekend, okay?”
Eleanor knew the question was rhetorical. There was no point fighting him on this. If she did, Dan would drop everything and come over immediately. At least this way she had a couple of days before he arrived.
But what then? She worried. Pulling the rug from under a man at sixty-three would not be a good idea. There was no way she could be certain of the outcome, but she had an idea – Dan Almeida was old school. He was a conservative who did things the old way, and according to him, the right way.
She smiled at the thought. Dan would probably get along well with Jöanth - if he could be convinced there were such things as monsters. It would have to be a bridge they crossed later. There was no point in worrying about it now.
“I’d like that, thanks Dan.”
“That’s settled then. If it wasn’t for some pressing matters here in New York, I would have been on the way already.”
“I know you would have,” she placated the old stalwart. “Don’t worry about it. If it makes you feel better, I’ll have the girls sleep over until you get here.”
“That’s a good idea. I’m sure Charl and RW won’t mind. It’ll at least put my mind a little at ease. Promise to phone me every night?”
“I will.” It was an easy promise to make. Eleanor loved Dan Almeida and would do anything for him. A phone call every night seemed like the least she could do for leaving him out of the loop.
“All right then,” came his staccato voice. “I’ll chat to you tonight again, and every night after that until I see you Wednesday.”
“Deal,” Eleanor confirmed.
“Good. Take care Didion.”
“Take care Big Bear.”
Eleanor ended the call and rushed downstairs.
A waft of delicious bacon, eggs, toast, and herbs greeted her as soon as she was halfway down the stairs. Jöanth was obviously in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. For a rugged outdoors man, he seemed very comfortable in a modern home. She found him behind the gas stove making breakfast, still dressed in his standard garb.
What did you expect, dumb dumb? The sarcastic, snippy cynic asked. A naked Jöanth with only an apron tied around his slim waist, perfect buns buoyant, deltoids, triceps, and forearms bulging?
She tried her best to dispel that vision from her mind. Especially when she remembered that he could read her emotions from her aura. Oh, shit, she thought, how embarrassing! Why would you be thinking that anyway? You don’t like the bulging Dwayne Johnson type, remember?
Jöanth had the good grace to concentrate on the eggs. “Good morning,” he said, after only briefly turning to greet her. “I hope you do not mind. I took the liberty of starting your breakfast the moment I heard you stir.”
“Not at all,” she said, walking quickly to the sink to pour herself a glass of tap water. She made sure to look out the window, instead of at her imaginary naked chef, as she gulped the cooling liquid down.
She breathed slowly in and out, disturbed at the profound effect this man was having on her, and then remembering that he wasn't even human.
No, he's not, another part of her piped in. He's more than a mere human, he's perfect. She felt her body about to betray her again with a blush, opened the tap again, splashed some water on her face and turned to face him, trying her best to make her mind blank. As backup, she tried keeping a picture of an old and leathery Clint Eastwood in her head.
Jöanth was thankfully still busy with her breakfast, his back turned to her. Her eyes seemed to be drawn to his behind.
He seemed to have the perfect tushy and she couldn't help but think of Henry Cavill in the Witcher. Not that she had ever watched the show, fantasy had never been her scene, but she had seen the trailer. And she had looked at some of the promotional images. It was Henry, after all.
Jöanth also had a strong jaw, full mouth, killer eyes, and almost platinum silver hair. She shrugged the images off and forced herself away from the daydream, forcing in Clint instead of Cavill. Somehow Dwayne also got thrown into the mix, making her even more flustered than she already was.
“Sleep okay?” she inquired.
“Yes, thank you,” came the answer, “how about you?”
“Uhm, fine, thank you.”
His question had her wondering if she had dreamed at all. She couldn't recall anything. That was a good sign. Any night where she couldn't remember whether she had dreamed or not was considered a nightmare free sleep, and that was a tick in the win column.
Crispy bread startled her as two slices jumped up in the toaster. Jöanth deftly took them out, slathered them with butter, covered them with a thick layer of bacon and topped the two slices each with an egg, sunny side up. Jöanth had also found some fresh herbs somewhere and had garnished the dish lavishly. It not only smelled incredible, but looked the part as well.
He leaned over with the offering and then pulled his hand back as Eleanor reached out to take it from him. Her mouth was already watering and the denial of that delicious looking plate of food felt like a physical slap to the face.
“I never asked how you like your eggs?” he asked, worried.
“Soft,” she smiled, urging for him to hand over the goods.
“They should be perfect then,” he smiled, relieved, and handed the plate over.
He had even placed a knife, fork, serviettes, and an assortment of spices on the table. She only noticed a bowl of salad when she reached for her fork.
“Salad, too?” she asked incredulously. Is he trying to fatten me up? My, she thought, what big eyes you have.
“You had a long, tiring day yesterday,” he answered. “You must be famished.”
Stirring Embers: An urban fantasy action adventure (The Light and the Void Book 1) Page 25