by JM Guillen
“Spooky stuff,” Rehl clarified as he toyed with the braid from his goatee.
“She had a minor magic power of her own.” Baxter grabbed another piece of pizza. “It seemed as if she could transmute certain substances, like some kind of alchemist.”
“That sounds pretty cool,” I mused.
“Well, your dad helped her take care of a couple of problems she had. No big deal really. She had been trying to get a hold of an old book, and that situation led her into some supernatural trouble.”
“And Dad shared this with me?” This story didn’t seem like it meshed up with the rest.
“He shared it with you because of what happened after. This lady, Patricia, started to get mysterious telephone calls. They warned her about being watched. That if she wasn’t careful, she’d be taken.”
“Taken?” I turned to Alicia, and then back to Baxter. “As in black bagged? Taken by the Silent Gentlemen?”
“Got it in one.” Baxter fidgeted in his seat. “Patricia was offered an opportunity to get away from your spooky men in black. She came to your dad to ask if he had heard anything about this group that offered asylum.”
“Asylum.” I wondered aloud, “Someone else acting against the Assets? Just like Simon wanted the Scions of Babel to be able to do?”
“There’s a lot more to it than that.” Baxter leaned forward on the table, and gazed at us, one by one. “You see, shortly after Patricia contacted Aiden, she simply vanished.”
“So… the Silent Gentlemen were looking for her.” My mind raced as I tried to figure out what my dad had attempted to tell me.
“That’s not what your father thought. You see, Patricia was thinking about taking these people up on their offer. According to what she told him, if she agreed, they would make her disappear off the map.”
“That’s a clever trick.” Rehl turned to me. “I mean, I’m new at all of this, but everything you told us about the Assets seems to indicate they home in on your kind pretty quickly.”
“Like nearly instantly.” I nodded emphatically.
“Liz,” Alicia cast her eyes downward. “Abriel would like me to remind you of a few points.”
“Yeah?”
“Earlier when you discussed your experience with the Silent Gentleman in your hotel room, you indicated he wished to work with you. In fact, from what you said, he implied there was an unknown party at work. People who had Grace were being targeted.”
“That’s kind of what the journal says!” Baxter tilted his head toward Alicia as if she’d earned a point. “Aiden worried an organization out there was targeting people like Liz.” He paused. “You know how protective he gets of his little girl.”
“Oh no.” I stared at the middle of the table and remembered what Garret had said.
“There must be hundreds of people like me.” I threw my hands wide while I tried to track what the creature said. “That’s what I’ve been told, anyway. A person like me comes along something like once every few million. Why does it have to be me?”
“There are a few reasons,” Garret responded. “For one, we think someone you know may be involved.”
“Dad was investigating these people, wasn’t he?” I turned to Baxter. “That journal says the last thing Dad did was to look into this mysterious group.”
“Well, yeah.” Baxter pushed his glasses up on his nose and fiddled with his stiches. “He was poking around, asking questions and trying to find out who they were.”
“And then he vanished,” I breathed. “Dammit!”
“Now, your dad’s been playing on the spooky side of the street for several years now,” Baxter continued. “He’s made a lot of friends, and he has a lot of contacts. He’s spent a good amount of time talking to people to try to find out information on this group.”
“Any luck?” Rehl had finished eating, and was just in it for the story now.
“One guy. Aiden called him Jak or Jax or something. Even so, he thought that wasn’t the guy’s real name.”
“Okay,” I pushed him. “What did this Jax have to say?”
“Well, that’s just it. Aiden says Jax likes riddles and isn’t very straightforward. But he also absolutely believed the guy knew all about this mysterious group and where they holed up.”
“But nothing more than that? Just belief that this Jax knew what’s up?” I gesticulated with my non-pizza hand. “Did Dad even say where to find him?”
“No.” Baxter fiddled with his stitches again, and Alicia reached out and pulled his hand away from his face.
“Okay, but it sounds as if there’s a reasonable chance this guy knows where your dad is,” Rehl added. “If your dad has other journals, maybe one of them will tell us how to find Jax!”
“Abriel didn’t even know Aiden kept a separate record.” Alicia shook her head. “Even if such books exist, where do we start our search? Have you seen how immense that attic is?”
“Well, there is one more thing.” Baxter smiled sheepishly. “I did intend to talk to you about this tonight; I didn’t know your dad’s journal would be such a big part of the puzzle, though.”
“You and me both,” I mumbled.
“So, as I suspected we might discuss these things, I went ahead and grabbed the journal while we were in the attic.” He pulled the book out of a jacket pocket.
“You sneak!” I grinned.
“I didn’t know you took a rank in thief!” Rehl jibed.
“Even though your dad didn’t directly say where we could find Jax, there was one piece I couldn’t make any sense of. I wonder if it might have an answer.” He opened the book, and then pushed it toward me.
I read those enigmatic words for a second time.
Ramble ’neath the silvered moon, twilight cloaked.
“Yeah.” I shook my head. “I saw this part before. I thought maybe it might be an anagram of some kind.”
“Really?” Rehl peered at the words. “You think your dad would purposefully make a riddle game out of you being able to find him?”
“Um, have you ever met Aiden?” Baxter asked. “One time, he asked me if I thought it would be cool for people to have to solve a puzzle before they could get into his store.”
“An anagram…” Alicia reached into her purse and pulled out an old receipt and a golf pencil. She began to scrawl.
“I already spent some time working on it,” I groused. “It didn’t seem like this would be the singular clue that led me to my father, at the time.”
“My concern is a little different.” Baxter eyed the last piece of pizza, then decided to eat it instead of just stare at it. “Obviously, if your father is missing, it’s important we find him.”
“Sure.” I wondered where he was going.
“But do you think that’s the best thing to do with our time? Don’t get me wrong, your dad’s a great guy. But if we focus on this problem only to have your buddy Mister Lorne send super-powered, cybernetic were-jackals to slaughter us, then no one finds your dad.”
“Also we are dead.” Rehl eyed Baxter.
“And that.”
“There’s too many problems all at once.” I glanced around the table. “This is part of the reason why I got my war-counsel together. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Masked Brava is more of a ‘blow things up first and ask questions later’ type kind of girl.”
“We’ve noticed,” Alicia confirmed.
“We don’t know where Simon is or even if he’s okay. He said he would be back in a few days, and knowing the man like I do, I’m officially saying he’s late.”
“That’s not unreasonable,” Alicia said. “Simon is meticulous about time frames. He’s been gone longer than it seems like he intended.”
“We do know he jaunted off after Mister Lorne.” I sighed and wished for the thousandth time I had never set foot in that creepy little shop. “If what Simon told me is correct, Lorne will have a branch of his malevolent little enterprise here in New York.”
“But we don’t kno
w where that is?” Baxter asked.
“No. We have no idea.”
“Um.” Rehl glanced up at us from where he stared at the table. “Are you certain this is an anagram?”
“No.” I shrugged. “The only thing I’m certain of is my father went out of the way to be a pain in the ass.”
“Maybe not this time. What if, aside from the poetic meter, this thing is literal?”
“What you mean?” Baxter peered at the journal again.
“Well, we’re trying to figure out where this ‘Jax’ character is. What if Aiden is trying to tell us exactly where Jax is?”
“That’s a little out of character,” I mused. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I think the problem isn’t that it’s a riddle.” Rehl gave me a wide, almost goofy grin. “I think the problem is you haven’t spent enough time in New York City recently.”
“What?” Baxter shook his head.
“Think about how the thing’s written. Aiden spent his time creating a journal written in a fictional language. It tells how he delved into some secret investigation and we know how that turned out.”
“He vanished.” Alicia rolled her wrist, as if to say ‘go on’.
“Yet this last piece, it looks to be scrabbled in here. Other than the fact that there’s some kind of floofy poetry involved, he just scrawled this in. He was in a hurry.”
“I still don’t get it,” I grumbled.
“Liz, New York is a large place, with all kinds of crazy names.” He tapped the journal. “One of these places, in Central park, is named…” He turned to Alicia.
“The Ramble,” she breathed.
“Oh, wow.” Baxter grinned and nodded. “You’re right.”
For a long moment, we sat in stunned silence, reading and re-reading the verse.
“Holy crap.” I shook my head with wonder. “He literally told us exactly where to go.”
Enchantment/Charm
September 5, 1997
New York, New York
It only took us a few moments to decide that yes, regardless of what I had said earlier, we did in fact want to do a little bit of monster hunting tonight.
“Not that I actually expect Jak to be a monster.” I waved one hand. “Maybe I should say ‘on campaign.’ Looks like I’m going to be on campaign tonight.”
“Well I don’t exactly get to say ‘no’.” Rehl flashed me a smile. “I’m on retainer now. I suppose as a charming, young mercenary for hire, I have to follow along with whatever Miss Lawson here wants.”
“Re-heallllly.” I raised one eyebrow at him. “That’s a dangerous precedent, Mr. Parker.”
“That’s me.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “I just lead a dangerous life.”
“I don’t have any plans.” Baxter paused. “Well, I have a huge amount of homework, but let’s be reasonable. I wasn’t going to do it anyway.”
“I am free.” Alicia waved one hand, apparently deep in thought.
“’Licia?” I leaned a bit forward. “You okay?”
“Jax.” Alicia chewed on the word, as if she tried to make sense of it. “Baxter, you said Aiden felt certain Jax wasn’t the creature’s actual name?”
“Creature?” I made a show of an over exasperated sigh. “When did we step from ‘mysterious contact’ to ‘creature’?”
“Right.” Baxter tapped the journal, still on the table. “That’s the one flaw about Aiden’s made-up language. ‘X’ and ‘K’ and ‘CH” are kind of interchangeable.”
“No, that’s not what I’m asking.” Alicia rubbed her temples for a moment, like she listened to something we couldn’t hear. “I’m asking if it’s possible there is an entirely different name, and this is just the name Aiden knew.”
“I guess so.” Baxter shrugged. “With all that’s happened, I won’t claim anything’s impossible.”
“What is it?” I felt a touch irritated my fun night with my friends had shifted back to business so quickly.
“Abriel has memories of many of Simon’s contacts.” She gazed around the table, just a touch of star-white shine in her hazel eyes.
“Does she remember this one?” Rehl finished his soda.
“One of those contacts was a creature named Black Horn Jack.” Alicia paused. “Abriel remembers the creature as quite mysterious. It lived in Central Park and had a peculiar affectation for riddles.”
“Could be our guy.” I grinned.
“Simon only spoke with the creature a few times. From what Abriel remembers, it held the power to answer literally any question.”
“We need that.” Baxter brightened. “We need that a lot!”
“The creature wasn’t omnipotent,” Alicia continued. “Simon theorized it held the power to answer any question posed, but one would need to play the creature’s games. Or answer his riddles. Something.”
“Simon wouldn’t like that,” I considered. “Not enough control.”
“Right up your dad’s alley though.” Baxter said.
“Simon felt there might be some inherent risk in this process,” Alicia spoke, her voice fairy soft. “Abriel doesn’t trust it.”
“Goodie.” I sighed. Why couldn’t anything ever be straightforward?
“But we’re still gonna go, right?” Baxter turned from Alicia to me. “I mean, just because something seems stupid doesn’t mean we don’t do it, right?”
“No, we’ll go. It’s too much of an opportunity to pass up. If Dad is right, we might be able to get some more questions answered.” I gazed around the table.
“We’ve been in the dark about almost everything, here.” Rehl leaned back in his seat and dug in his pocket. He pulled out the car keys, and slammed them on the table. “I’m ready to go when you guys are.”
“Let me grab the check.” I scooped up the receipt and walked toward the front of the store. While I waited in line to pay, my mind scrambled to come up with the best possible strategy for this evening’s little adventure.
If there’s one thing Simon had taught me, it was the value of being prepared.
2
Not fifteen minutes after Rehl had parked the car, I broke rule one.
“I’m so pleased we chose to come out Central Park on a rainy evening in September.” Baxter zipped his hoodie and stuffed his hands into the front pouches.
“So here’s what I think we should do.” We still sat in the car, and I poured over one of the free maps the city provided. “We park here and split up into two groups. I really don’t expect any problems tonight, we’re only here for information.”
“We just want to confirm Jax is here.” Rehl waved one hand. “Black Horn Jack. Whatever.”
“Exactly.” I gave him a smile. “We’re not here to cause any trouble. We don’t want a dangerous evening.”
“So, what?” Baxter shook his head. “We’re supposed to walk around the Ramble and just… look for a guy?”
“I know it’s not much to go on.” I turned to Alicia. “If this character is the same guy Simon knew, did Abriel ever go with him when they spoke?”
“No.” Alicia frowned. “Abriel has no information on what Black Horn Jack looks like.”
“Consider this recon, Bax. We’ll scout for anything unusual. Anything my father might describe as ‘twilight cloaked,’ for example.”
“I bet there Knucklebones had walkie-talkies,” he groused.
“It does. With headsets.” Rehl turned from Baxter to me. “New rule. When we go on campaign, we always swing by the store first, if we can. That way we can gear up.”
“That’s a decent rule.” I nodded, and handed Baxter one of the maps.
“Do we set a rendezvous time?” Baxter glanced at his calculator watch. “Maybe meet back here in two hours?”
“The park closes at one.” Rehl tilted his head toward Baxter. “If we meet back here in two hours, we’ll have plenty of time to decide what to do next.”
“We’re just out for a walk,” I said
sunnily. “Just an evening walk in the park.”
Inside however, I already suspected the truth. Nothing about this had been a walk in the park so far.
I couldn’t imagine things would change now.
3
Forty minutes later, and all I had accomplished was to get a little damper than I wanted to be.
“This is stupid.” Rehl shook his head, though I scarcely saw him in the shadows. “We’ll end up dead in the Lake. You watch.”
“You, maybe,” I whispered. “I was smart enough to partner up with someone slower than me.” I grinned. “Thank God Baxter shot you in the leg.”
“He barely grazed me,” he scoffed. “Liz, I could bench press you. In Central Park, no one chases guys who look like me.” He flexed a bicep to try and prove his point.
“I assumed that was because of your face,” I muttered.
He went on, as if I hadn’t spoken, “Even if they did, I’d just knock you down and keep running. Then Miss Lawson would be all alone in the Ramble. Easy pickings.”
“Alone?” I scoffed. “Rehl, no young woman is alone as long as she has her Beretta 92.” I turned to one side in the dim light and opened my leather jacket to let him see the weapon I had smuggled from Knucklebones.
“You brought an unlicensed gun into the park?” I couldn’t see how wide his eyes had gotten, but I didn’t need to. I could hear it. “What the hell were you thinking?”
That I can’t keep blowing myself out in magical battles, I thought with a surly sigh.
“I’m thinking even if you do get ahead of me, you won’t be after I wing you.”
“Ridiculous,” he huffed. “You’d never even—”
“Shut it.” I held up a hand and froze in place. “Look.”
Faintly silhouetted in the light of the moon, a lone, cloaked figure walked through the Ramble.
“Ha!” I didn’t quite squeal, as that would be undignified. Instead, I quoted the text my father had left. “‘Ramble ’neath the silvered moon, twilight cloaked’! It’s him!”