Someone was shining a torchlight on the branch from which Troy was swinging. They were looking at the rope that had been used. Only now, on closer inspection, her vision focused on it, could Eleanor see that it wasn't rope. It was glistening. It looked organic.
“Are those...” her voice cracked and trailed off.
“Yes,” Deputy Connors softly said to her left.
She hadn't noticed him still standing there.
“Whoever did this,” Connors paused and audibly swallowed, “they, uhm, they strung Troy up with his own intestines. Will you excuse me?” he said and moved away quickly.
Eleanor stood frozen to the spot, unable to look away from the ghastly scene, even after the torchlights moved off in another direction. Only after they started clearing the scene of personnel and started erecting a large, half-ring of screens fifty yards from the hanging body and Jöanth urged her to go, did she move.
Images of dead and broken bodies flitted through her mind, like a grim, macabre procession of the dead. All the victims she had ever reported upon seemed to line up, vying for her attention, as if they wanted to make sure that she would not forget them. They reminded her that they were victims. That their lives came to an end through no fault of their own.
Eleanor's feet plodded along of their own accord. Jöanth guiding her back to the first police line where Rosewater and Charlene were still waiting. Eleanor wasn't aware of anything else. She only saw the murder scenes of the innocent, and her fury grew. She seemed to snap awake as she sat behind the steering wheel of her Honda and she had turned the engine on. She looked from Jöanth, to Rosewater, to Charlene and back to Jöanth.
“We need to kill it,” she said with such ferocity that Jöanth cocked his head and looked at her with a worried expression on his face. “And I want that Thing to suffer.”
CHAPTER 48
They stopped at the Prouza mansion and retrieved the whispering box, before retreating to Eleanor's home. Kettle on and all seated around the kitchen table, they stared at the box.
It was quiet at the moment, which made it all the more creepy to Charlene. She kept looking at it as if it were a jack-in-the-box. You knew something was about to pop out, but you didn't know what, nor when. She was tense, filled with pent-up energy and ready to bolt.
The rest of the little group looked relaxed and inquisitive.
The carved runes were of particular interest to Jöanth, especially since he couldn't decipher them.
“These are very old,” he said, holding the box aloft and turning it this way and that. “Some look álvur in origin, but most are completely foreign to me. There are ancient ruins scattered across Edínu but no one knows who they belonged to. These are the types of runes that could be found at these sites. What they mean, I have no idea. We have no idea who built these old places or left their markings. They had been there even before the álvur.”
He placed the box back in the center of the little round table and looked at Charlene.
“Would you like to do the honors?” he asked.
“Why me?” she asked, looking a little shocked at his suggestion.
“It was calling out to you,” Jöanth shrugged.
“That doesn't mean it's something good,” she shot back. “That could be Pandora's Box for all we know. What if I open it and something terrible gets out? What if that is the svartálvur's plan? Hmm? Maybe he can't open it. He needs a human sucker to open it for him.”
“Big balls of frozen lemons,” Rosewater breathed, looking at the box with a new-found dubiety.
“Right?” Charlene supported her friend's statement, nodding her head.
“Valid points,” Jöanth mused. “There is only one way to find out, though.” He said after a while, “What do you think? What do your instincts tell you?” Jöanth asked, looking at the women, but then settling his gaze on Charlene again.
“That's just the thing,” Charlene said. “I don't feel anything, and that is what makes me nervous. I don't get any bad vibes from it,” she said looking intently at the box. “But, I also don't get any good vibes.”
Jöanth nodded and looked to Rosewater.
She shrugged. “The same, I guess. No vibes.”
Eleanor threw her hands up in the air in mock surrender. “I honestly don't know. I haven't even heard the thing whisper yet.”
“No vibes?” Jöanth asked.
Eleanor scrunched her nose up and shook her head.
“I also get nothing from the box,” Jöanth said. “Thus,” he paused, taking his sword from his back. “Unless anyone has an overwhelming feeling of dread or wrongness with what I am about to do,” he leaned towards the box and looked at each of them for a second.
The girls showed no reaction. No one asked him to stop.
“Hold onto your flying horses,” he said.
With a steady left hand, Jöanth reached out to the box, his right hand ready with the point of the sword pointed towards the lid. His left hand couldn't open the box. The top wouldn't budge. Jöanth inspected the box for the umpteenth time and he couldn't see a keyhole. The box should have opened, and yet it didn't. He placed Drÿmwÿn on the table and tried prying the lid open with two hands. Still no result. He spent a few more seconds of pulling and pushing and looking for secret levers before giving up and placing the wooden box before Charlene.
“It might have a spell on it,” he offered by way of explanation. “Since you heard its call, perhaps you are the only one who can open it,” he said reaching for Drÿmwÿn.
Charlene nodded, and before thinking about it too much and giving doubt the chance to weaken her resolve, she leaned forward and opened the box without any effort. Jöanth was right next to her, sword held at the ready, but nothing came screeching out, trying to gouge their eyes out or melt their faces. It seemed to be nothing but a wooden box, the size of a shoe box, used to contain things. There were two objects, nestled inside, what looked like straw.
Both were shiny, but one in particular drew Charlene's attention. It was a bracelet made of a copper-like substance. When turned in the light, it gave off beautiful hues of dark sapphire blue and turquoise. Charlene reached out to touch it, but Jöanth cautioned her to wait.
With the tip of his sword, he moved the contents around in the box and scooped out bits of the yellow straw that was used as filler material to protect the contents from shifting.
Nothing jumped out and his search revealed nothing new. He nodded to Charlene and she gingerly reached out to the solid arm band. It was thick, at least as thick as both Charl's thumbs and it was also covered in the ancient runes. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.
Charlene extracted it from the box, shook it to get rid of a few straw stragglers and held it in the air for the rest to see. Without a word, she passed it to Rosewater, who inspected it a few seconds and even tried to fit it over her hand. Its circumference was too small and she couldn't fit her thumb through it. There was no clasp and it seemed to have been made for a child.
“Pity,” Rosewater said and handed it over to Eleanor.
Eleanor was fascinated with the runes and the craftsmanship. It felt a million years old and yet, the metal seemed to be as pure as the day it had been forged. Having finished her inspection, she handed it to Jöanth, who took the least amount of time of all to look at the bracelet. He extended it back to Charlene.
As she was about to take it, the bracelet seemed to wobble and warp for a split second as it enlarged and then slipped over Charlene's hand to rest on her wrist.
It happened so quickly that only Jöanth had really seen what happened. The bracelet seemed to have jumped and attached itself to its new owner. Charlene looked at it with a shocked smile. It had been completely unexpected, but Charl seemed to be pleasantly surprised. She turned the bracelet around and around, looking at all the intricately engraved symbols.
“It looks good on you,” Rosewater said without a hint of envy.
Everyone was thinking it. It was as if the
bracelet belonged on Charlene's wrist. After a few seconds of admiration, she tried taking it off, but it wouldn't budge. It was clear that it would not fit over her hand. The only way to get it off, would be to cut it.
She looked worriedly at Jöanth.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Fine. Why?” She looked alarmed.
“Just asking,” he said. “I wouldn't worry about it for now.” His eyes however, had a twinkle of doubt or mistrust in them. “There are many magical talismans in the cosmos. Some are used for good, some for bad. We won't know which this is, until a situation arises where it reveals its power. Until then, there is no point in wondering what it is, or what its purpose could be.”
“Why didn't you warn me?” Charlene asked, looking worriedly at her wrist.
“There was no way of knowing,” he simply answered. “It's like this,” he took out the second item in the box, a metal cylinder, silver in color.
Jöanth inspected it from all angles. It was a plain looking, solid metal cylinder. Jöanth could feel faint grooves running along it, but apart from that, there were no symbols or runes on it. The cylinder was about seven inches in length and three inches in diameter.
“Who knows what this is?” he stated, rather than asked.
The object was passed around the table, but nothing happened and no one had a definitive idea for what it could be.
“Part of a machine,” Eleanor wondered. “A shaft for something.”
“A handle maybe.” Charlene said distractedly. “Like for a door or a drawer.”
“Maybe it's an ancient toilet roll holder,” Rosewater said to much amusement as she placed it back in the box and wiped her hands on her pants.
“There is no point in guessing,” Jöanth said as he closed the lid.
“Nope,” Rosewater pouted. “But it sure is fun,” She turned to Charlene, looking at the bracelet. “What magical powers do you think it has? If there was another one, you could have been Diana of the Amazons.”
“Imagine that,” Charlene said with a half-smile. “I'd finally be able to kick your butt.”
“In your dreams, kid,” Rosewater winked.
Ever since kindergarten she had been the faster and stronger of the two, but she had always tried to make the blows softer for Charlene. Charlene however, never held back. She was as competitive, if not more so, than Rosewater.
“So that's it?” Eleanor asked.
She reached for the box and unpacked the contents of the box until it was completely empty. She didn't see any notes or hidden panels, so she handed it to Jöanth. After a brief but thorough inspection, he went through the straw meticulously and repacked the box with all the straw and the metal tube.
“Where the box is concerned,” Jöanth shrugged, “yes, I think that is it.”
“So, the point was?” Eleanor asked.
“For Charlene to find the box and put the bracelet on. I don't know the purpose of the cylinder, nor the bracelet for that matter. Our only option is to wait.”
“We can't look it up somewhere?” Eleanor asked hopefully. “You don't have a magical book hidden on your person somewhere, do you?”
Jöanth shook his head. “No book for you to peruse, sorry,” he said. “Not that one from the great álvur library is needed,”
“What do you mean?” Eleanor asked.
“I've read all there is to read on what we have on the creatures of the Dark, their magic, and talismans, weapons, and so forth. A lot of our training was based solely on studying the ancient texts. You never know when a little piece of seemingly inconsequential information might save someone's life.”
“And?” Rosewater asked. “Can you remember anything?”
“I remember everything,” Jöanth noted as a matter-of-fact. “It is an álvur Gift. But no, I do not recognize either of these two objects.”
“Everything?” Rosewater asked, her interest piqued.
“Everything,” Jöanth answered seriously.
“Everything you've ever read?”
“And heard, said, smelled, felt. I can recall it all at will and with complete clarity.”
“Trippy,” Charlene mouthed, rolling the bronze arm band around her wrist.
“So you've never had to read a book twice?” Rosewater asked.
“No need,” Jöanth said, tapping his temple.
“So, what?” RW paused. “You always got full marks for tests?”
“We have no tests,” Jöanth stated. “There's no need for them.”
“Whoa!” Charlene exclaimed, suddenly also interested. “No tests! No fair,” she mock-whined in a little girl voice and matching facial expressions. “I want to be an álvur.”
“Not possible, I'm afraid,” he said with a fond smile.
Jöanth had grown attached to the humans and he liked their company.
“Okay, enough,” Eleanor said with a seriousness that dropped the smiles from their faces. “As fascinating as all of this is, it still doesn't solve our problem. How do we kill this Urøk thing?”
“Jöanth will chop his head off,” Charlene offered.
“Easier said than done,” Eleanor countered. “Our álvur bloodhound has difficulty tracking down his prey.”
“True,” Jöanth conceded. “My senses do not work as they should with this creature. Tracking him has been troublesome.”
“Do you think he'll go back to the doctor's house?” Rosewater asked. “We could wait for it. Ambush it. Maybe even lay traps for it.”
“It's possible,” Jöanth said, “but highly unlikely. We know of its identity. Tactically, it would not be wise for it to return to that house. It knows that we can lie there in wait for it, or perhaps even corner it there. No,” Jöanth shook his head. “It is clever enough to find another lair.”
“That's a problem,” Eleanor said, the despondency in her voice evident.
She was bone tired. Troy Troger's murder scene had tapped her more than she would have admitted. His swinging corpse invaded her thoughts. She wished that sleep would take her, but knew that falling asleep would be a near impossible task.
“It is, yes,” Jöanth admitted. “At least we know that it is after the girls. Or perhaps only one of them,” he said, looking at Charlene. “Rosewater definitely has the stronger Glow between the two, and we don't know what Charlene's Gift is yet. We do know that it certainly left her something.”
Charlene looked in shock and disgust at the arm band on her wrist. Unsuccessfully, she again tried to pull it off.
“You think he left this for me?” The horror was evident on her face.
“It is the only logical explanation,” Jöanth answered. “Unless there is another, as yet unknown force or third party, also involved. But I doubt it. The fact that the svartálvur had been spying on you specifically, would indicate that he had left the box for you to find. Sooner or later, his plan will become evident. Either he will come to you, or you will go to him.”
“Never,” Charlene hissed. “I hate being manipulated. I am no one's pawn. I am my own person,” she said and defiantly folded her arms, deliberately hiding the bracelet underneath one arm.
“Good,” Jöanth nodded approval. “That fighting spirit will see you through, no matter what.”
“So, what do we do?” Eleanor asked.
“We keep Charlene in public spaces as much as possible.”
“Why?” All three girls asked at the same time. This brought a brief smile to their faces.
“That way, if it wants to meet with Charlene, or take her away, it will have to do so in front of other people. The chances of it showing up in its svartálvur form will be slimmer, especially if Rosewater is with her. She would be able to spot it in its cloaked form, and it knows this. Thus, in order to blend in, it will have to approach in its human form. I think it cannot see me in human form. When it was visiting as Doctor Black that first night I was here, it didn't see me peering at it from around the hallway corner. And when we were in the car, parked in front o
f the house, it also didn't seem to be aware of me in the passenger seat.”
“I think you're right,” Eleanor said. “When he was at the car window, he never once looked past me towards where you were sitting. It kept looking and sneering at me.”
“Okay,” Rosewater said, “so how do we get it to go where and when we want it to?”
The three women looked at Jöanth expectantly.
“There is a sure-fire way of luring a creature of the Void to its prey. You see,” he began, “once a Dark Creature identifies a victim, that victim becomes imprinted upon the creature. They almost always know instinctively where their victims are. In this case, I believe it to be fact. At this very moment, Charlene, it knows exactly where you are.”
“Not comforting,” she answered.
“No, it wouldn't be,” Jöanth acknowledged, “but it gives us an edge. We can summon it.”
“How?” Charlene said, afraid to ask.
“The moment you spill a significant amount of blood, it will inexorably be drawn to you. It will be an instinctual thing. It will be compelled to see if you are okay. If you are marked as prey, it would not want you to fall victim to any other creature. It would also not want you to die in any other fashion, than by its own hand.” Jöanth reached out and patted Charl's hand. “It sounds terrible, I know, but we can use it to our advantage. We're going to have to create a scenario where your life is seemingly in danger. If you are central to its plan in some way, it will not want to lose you to death. It will try to save you, as unlikely as that may sound.”
“Okay,” Charlene said, the skepticism thick in her voice. “So, we need a public place, I need to bleed and my life needs to be in danger. Sounds like a piece of cake.”
“Let's discuss this,” Jöanth suggested.
For the next half an hour, they suggested possible scenarios that involved Charlene bleeding profusely. Jöanth considered all the suggestions and together, they narrowed their list down to three things that might work. Although Jöanth was very much a part of the discussion, Eleanor saw him looking distractedly at the windows, looking out to the woods several times.
Stirring Embers: An urban fantasy action adventure (The Light and the Void Book 1) Page 36