Tearing The Shroud (37 page)

‘Certainly, though we may choose not to answer.’

‘When I last made this journey, I returned having reversed my age by the length of time I was away. How does that occur?’

The Master grinned slyly. ‘Because you are consuming the years. The time you spend inhabiting your host is time taken from their life. Stolen time doesn’t cease to exist; it requires a balance. Therefore, as it leaves the host, it is recovered by you.’

Justus’ mind leapt forward. ‘This means that the host, having had that life taken from him, would age twice the amount.’

The Master chuckled. ‘Another detail we left out of the recent contract.’

What ‘details’ were left out of his? A bit late for second-guessing, he supposed.
He shook his head and sighed.

‘Is something bothering you?’

‘Yes, this old body. I’ll be glad when it’s younger again,’ he said smoothly.

‘Time is a precious commodity.’

They turned at the top of the ramp and entered a room facing the courtyard. It wasn’t overly opulent, without wall hangings or ornament. The only décor was a small table, a large bed, and thick curtains, currently pulled back. The setting sun gave the room a golden glow.

‘A bit meager, isn’t it?’ The Master asked.

Justus shrugged. ‘I won’t be looking at it anyhow.’

The Master nodded. ‘Practical. Now, any other questions?’

‘Several; do we have time?’

He looked upward as if gauging something. ‘Not much. Ask quickly.’

‘You found a suitable and...agreeable host?’ Justus looked at him hopefully.

‘We are sure you will be entirely satisfied.’

He smiled. ‘Grand. As to the Kafla, how are they controlled?’

‘With the lesser ones, there isn’t much control to be had. They will come to their master’s voice and go generally where they are pointed, but after that, one is never quite sure. They are relentless in pursuit of their prey and very useful in that regard. The purer of the breed are capable of speech and not as...randomly formed as the common ones; you should find them worthy servants.’ He nodded. ‘We have provided a talisman to your host, which he believes to be a symbol of our agreement. You will have no difficulties, we assure you.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Shall we be about this, or wait another twelve years?’

Justus sat on the bed and gently lay back.

‘Will this be like before?’ Justus asked.

A smile played at the corners of the Master’s mouth. ‘You shall find this distantly different. Now...release your mind.’ The last word ripped through him, and terror jolted every fiber of his being. He went rigid, and his heels thrummed rapidly against the mattress.

Then...

He floated through a yard along a tall fence draped in purple morning glories then passed a stump, stained with blood and dotted with small feathers.

He sailed over the roof of a cottage, and the landscape beyond changed to golden hills of sand. Onward he flew, his speed increasing, and within moments he settled to the ground beyond the last dune. A dry lakebed stretched before him. As he stepped forward, the ground opened, and a huge crevasse formed across his path. The sound of rushing winds came from its black depths. Justus peered desperately for a way around. A voice came to him on the winds, the voice of the Master. ‘You must make a way across.’

His heart beat faster. ‘But how?’

‘You must be the bridge.’

He looked at the other side in the distance, and panic flooded him at the impossibility of the task. ‘But...I can’t.’

‘You must!’ The voice roared, searing him with a blast of heat.

‘How?’ Tears streamed down his face.

‘Fall forward...and reach.’

He could not deny the voice and tipped forward, stretching his arms outward, straining to find the other side. Somehow, in this nightmare land, his body elongated, stretching and thinning, until his hands found the opposite ledge. He hung between the two sides, undulating in the wind over the dark of infinity of the chasm.

With tremendous effort, he maintained his grip and then realized something walked on him; moments later, he saw the first Kafla step off his hands onto the other side.

‘I can’t do it!’ he screamed.

‘Longer, hold on longer,’ the voice insisted.

He tried, crying in terror, but his grip failed at last; he fell, tumbling endlessly into the dark depths.

‘Oh!’ he yelled, sitting up in bed.

Sweat poured off his body and soaked his sheets. He tried to get his bearings; stood and stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the light. ‘What a nightmare,’ he tried to say, but his mouth felt strange. He looked into the mirror to see why and froze. He examined himself, turning his head from side to side, and noticed the silver object hanging on a chain around his neck. It looked like a tiny stick with notches carved upon it. Slowly he started to smile.

‘I made it. I...am...here!’ Justus shouted as he thrust Jimmy Wood’s fists into the air.

Chapter 33

Mr Ross

The phone rang.

‘Hello, Theodore Ross, attorney at law. How may I assist you?’

‘Hello Joan. I hate to bother you a fourth time, but it’s imperative I speak to Mr Ross.’

She sighed. ‘I’ll see what I can do, sir.’

Music played through the line.

‘Ted Ross here.’

‘Thank you for taking my call. I’m contacting you regarding a trust.’

‘And your name is...?’ Irritation tinted his voice.

‘Oh, terribly sorry. This is Jimmy, rather...Franklin Wood. You may call me Frank.’

‘Fine. Frank, what can I do for you?’

‘Approximately thirteen years ago you set up a trust for a Mr Wilson. Do you recall?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Would you verify a number for me?’ Justus asked.

The line went silent.

So, you thought to maintain the trust indefinitely.

‘Please hold, Frank. Let me get that file.’ A moment later Ted returned. ‘I’m ready.’

‘10211920211923912191514,’ Justus said. He could almost hear the man’s mind working.

‘Please repeat those numbers, Frank.’

‘10211920211923912191514.’

‘What’s the parrot’s name?’ Theodore asked.

‘Pae.’

‘Where’s...he kept?’

‘Callendel.’

Justus heard a slow exhale. ‘Mr Wood, a pleasure to receive your call. How may I be of assistance?’

‘Theodore, thank you for following procedure. I need a driver to pick me up within the hour. Have the keys to the home ready and a representative from JCorp at your office when I arrive. I assume JCorp is still in operation.’

‘That’s an understatement, sir; the investment strategies implemented by Mr Wilson had...unforeseeable results.’

‘Really? How so?’ Justus asked.

‘JCorp’s holdings currently stand at one point eight billion dollars, sir.’

He paused. ‘So, we’ve done reasonably well?’

‘I don’t have your exact personal worth at hand, but you are one of the wealthiest men in California, perhaps the United States.’

‘Then double your stipend, Theodore; you’ve managed things properly.’

‘Where do I send the car, sir?’

‘I am at Joe’s Café in Hollywood; is that sufficient?’

‘Absolutely, sir; I’ll have one there within thirty minutes.’

‘Theodore.’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘I’m a bit short on cash.’

‘Not a problem, sir. The driver will provide for any need you have.’

Justus hung up.

‘Mr Ross — ’

Justus opened Andrew’s office door before Joan could finish. The lawyer’s jaw dropped, though he quickly recovered. The man behind him didn’t fare as well. Apparently they’d been expecting someone older or a distinguished businessman in a fine suit; not the spike-haired leather clad young man he now inhabited.

‘Theodore Ross, I presume.’

The lawyer shook his hand, his mouth working silently. Finally, he asked, ‘Mr Wood?’

‘In the flesh.’ Justus chuckled.

Andrew blinked rapidly then turned to a second man. ‘This is Jose Herrera, Vice President of JCorp.’

Jose shifted his shock into a smile as he offered his hand. ‘It’s a pleasure, Mr Wood.’

‘Jose.’ Justus held his eyes. ‘Vice President. The President is whom?’

‘Stanley Johnson. Unfortunately he was, ah, previously engaged today.’

‘I see. He’s engaged with...?’

‘Golf,’ Jose said quietly. ‘He has a standing golf game every Thursday.’

‘Golf?’ Justus searched his memory.
Hitting a little ball with clubs.

Jose cleared his throat. ‘Yes, Mr Wood.’

‘It’s unfortunate he couldn’t be here.’ Justus nodded. ‘It isn’t every day a man experiences being removed from employment.’

‘Removed?’ Jose asked.

Justus shrugged. ‘Since golf is so important to him, we should give him more time to
play.
’

‘You can just fire him?’ Jose blinked.

‘There are many things I
can
do, but let’s inquire. Andrew, can I just
fire
him?’

The lawyer paled. ‘The terms of the Trust are specific, and I correctly verified your ownership of Bill Wilson’s holdings. You need to sign a few documents, but essentially, you own seventy-five percent of JCorp. You may terminate who you wish, sir.’

‘Terminate, such a lovely word.’ Justus grinned. ‘JCorp is without a president. Andrew, what are we to do?’

‘I suppose you could fill the position.’

Justus waved his hand. ‘I own the company; why would I wish that on myself?’

‘Mr Wood, I believe I’m the man you need,’ Jose said.

Justus looked at him for a long moment and nodded. ‘Yes, I believe you are.’ He offered his hand. ‘The position is yours with a ten percent increase over
Stanley’s
salary. Now, let’s see to those papers and a renewal of the trust.’

‘Of course, Mr Wood, easily done,’ Andrew said.

‘Grand. Afterward, I have some shopping to do. Any suggestions where I might obtain new clothing? Though I do enjoy this ensemble, I could use business attire.’

‘Yes, sir. I know just the place,’ Jose said.

Chapter 34

Friday

Vinni drank his orange juice while sitting at the kitchen counter. The dim light of dawn created a chiaroscuro around the appliances as the night became day. Jule touched his arm. ‘So, nothing?’

He turned to his friends. ‘Not since last night.’

‘You’re sure it was the Tearer and not something else?’ Knife asked again.

‘The Matriarch told me I’d know when power is used here, that I’d feel it. That had to be what happened; it was violently unmistakable.’ He rested his hand on Jule’s.

Between worry, anticipation, and his desire to start tracking the target, none of them had slept much. Classes would have to wait. Today, resting was paramount. Vinni hoped the next time wouldn’t be as dramatic but didn’t want to take the chance that he might start screaming in the middle of a History class.

The phone rang and Flea answered it.

‘Hello? — Hi, Mr Brown. — No, nothing since it happened. — Okay, we’ll be sure. Yep, you too. — Okay.’ He hung up the line. ‘Mr Brown. Wondering how things stood.’

Knife shook his head. ‘I always thought he was just an eccentric shopkeeper.’

‘I know huh,’ Flea said. ‘Who’da thought?’

Knife stared at the window. ‘Maybe I should have gone to school in Seattle.’

Jule sighed. ‘I’m scared too.’

‘That isn’t what I meant. Well, yeah, I
am
more frightened than I’ve ever been. I was talking about this weather.’

‘And I thought Lompoc fog was bad.’ Flea shook his head.

‘Is that where you’re from?’ Jule asked.

He nodded. ‘Where the sludge meets the surf, under the fog.’

‘That bad?’ Jule asked

‘No, not really. I wouldn’t mind being there now.’ Flea scratched his jaw.

‘Maybe we can all go once...’ Vinni said. His throat closed off and no amount of trying would open it.

Jule put her hand on his back and the little group fell silent.

Vinni sat in a chair in the main room, with his back to the window. The swirling gray outside them had started making him feel dizzy. He’d finished his Psych reading and picked up his notebook. Flipping to a blank page he drew a line that became the jaw of an oval face with a slightly pointed chin. A beautiful woman started to emerge from the paper. Feelings of love warmed him against an aching loneliness blowing on his heart’s door.