The Clock Winked (The Sagittan Chronicles Book 2) (10 page)

He was quiet for a moment.

“No!” he exclaimed, loudly. He seemed to forget all about
whispering. “All that would do is put my face back in the public view and there
is no good reason for that. You saw how Aderick died. I’ll be next! Forget it.”

Jameson slammed down the phone. Auvek watched as he took a
deep breath, smoothed down his high quality jacket, and strolled through the
front door without looking back. The little bell dinged as the door swung shut.

Auvek hurried to the counter and plopped down in the chair
in front of the computer. He pulled up
Green,
Inc.
and began to type the words “Stryker” and “Jameson Musk.” Although
Green, Inc.
was the best place to go for
quick information—legally obtained information, that is—it seemed that Simon
was faster.

“I already found it,” said Simon from his hideout beneath the
desk. “I taped the whole conversation, too.”

“Who was he?” Auvek asked. “The shop’s empty. You can talk.”

“You should get Bronwyn and Salve for this,” Simon said, his
big eyes peeking out from the dim light.

“Bronwyn!
Salve!”
Auvek called.

“Coming,” they yelled back in unison.

Simon brachiated his way up the counter and sat stoically,
carefully hiding from the windows behind a stack of books. He stroked the spine
of a book titled
“Once
A
Day, Always A Night
,” as Bronwyn and Salve came tripping in from the other
room.

“That man,” Simon began, turning towards them, “was none
other than Jameson Musk.”

He was greeted by three blank stares.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!”
Salve
interrupted, blinking rapidly and shaking his head.
“The
monkey.
I mean, I knew it was a robot… it looks so real!”

“I am Simon,” Simon said.
“Nice to meet
you, Mr. Pincer.”

“But… but…” Salve stuttered.

“As I was saying,” Simon continued, a bit louder. “Jameson
Musk was Chair Aderick’s Prime Counselor.”

“Ah,” Auvek said, slightly louder than Bronwyn’s “ohhh,” and
Salve’s “…looks so real!”

“You may find it interesting to hear that he was speaking
with none other than Rathead, the gang leader from South Pomegranate City.”
Simon continued. “Their conversation revolved mainly around a ‘thing’ which
neither of them explicitly stated, but which I gathered to be located on the
Musk family estate on the outskirts of Pomegranate City.”

Salve leaned forward and pulled a notebook from his jacket
pocket. “Ah yes,” he said.
“The Musk Estate.
It is
heavily guarded. Many reporters have risked their reputations to sneak into
that place.”

“The only one that succeeded died a strange death three days
later,” Simon added. “And, might I add, without passing along any pertinent
information.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Auvek admonished. “I don’t
think your boss wants you dead for a good story.”

“You don’t know my boss,” Salve countered. “Although, if I
died, he’d prefer me to be roasted alive and then eaten with a side of refried
beans by cannibals drinking top notch Chianti. So there was a second story, of
course.”

“What?” Auvek asked, frowning at the seemingly out-of-place
comment.

Bronwyn made a face.

“In addition,” Simon said, raising his voice again, “it
seems that they have Stryker, the opposing gang leader, held hostage on the
estate. And Elon Canderick, the second in line for Aderick’s position, has
disappeared entirely.”

“If only I had some way to pursue these juicy tidbits!”
Salve exclaimed.
“Without getting dead.”

“If you keep hanging around, a story might just fall into
your lap,” Bronwyn suggested.

Salve tilted his head. “I might just try that.” He turned to
Auvek and bowed dramatically. “I am at your service. Your wish is my command.”

Auvek grinned. “In that case, I’m going to put the two of
you to work upstairs.”

“Awesome!” Bronwyn said. She grabbed Salve’s hand and the
two took off towards the back.

Salve and Bronwyn hung around for the rest of the day. Salve
came downstairs every half hour, pestering every customer that he could find,
looking for a story. These short visits didn’t last long, however, and he would
inevitably disappear quickly back into the book dump. Late afternoon, Salve
bounced into the front room completely covered in dust and with a little smile
on his lips.

“I have to leave,” he said. “I think I’ll interview a few
shopkeepers about the alarm incident. Maybe I can find out a few more tidbits
like the one you gave me. A ghost,” he stated, chuckling.

“I’d like to know what people are saying,” Auvek said, “you know,
after you talk to them.”

“Sure!” Salve replied, smiling. The bell dinged behind him.

A while later, right before close, Bronwyn came downstairs.
She was also covered in dust.

“It’s looking good up there,” she said, “but I have to
leave. I have to meet my double at the Clock Shop.” She picked up her sweater
and looked out the window. “Ugh.
Rain.
I sometimes wish
it didn’t exist.”

“Rain is completely necessary. How else would we wash the
grass?” Auvek said, smiling.

A few customers still perused the bookshelves. Auvek glanced
at the clock.
Only a few minutes until close.

Bronwyn’s laugh rang through the shop.
“Very
true.
I will come back as soon as I can.” The bell dinged behind her.
Two customers followed her out.

Three minutes later she burst back into the shop with a gust
of wind and a wall of raindrops close behind.

“Auvek!” she exclaimed. “Butler! He’s outside! I thought he
followed her, I mean, my double, but... he might have seen me! I need to hide.”

“Come hide under the desk. Quick!” Auvek moved out of the
way as Bronwyn darted around the customer standing at the counter, and ducked
behind the desk.

“Sorry about this,” Auvek said apologetically to the
customer.

“It's my aunt's butler,” Bronwyn whispered loudly in
explanation. “He's creepy and he's always following me. I thought I gave him
the slip, but I’m afraid he saw me.”

“Perhaps I can help,” the gentleman at the counter stated.
“My name is John.” He grinned cheerfully. “My friend is a bodyguard. He's
waiting outside. Let me give him a ring.”

John pulled out his phone. “Hey.
Quin.
See any creepy looking butlers wandering around? What's he wearing?” he asked,
leaning over the desk to look down at Bronwyn.

“A brown trench coat and silly boots and a hat because he
thinks it
makes
him look mysterious. But it really
just looks like he doesn't know how to dress.”

“Found him!” John exclaimed after repeating Bronwyn's
description. “And pretend we didn’t call you. Bye.”

A moment later, the bell dinged and a very tall, very
muscular black man in a suit stepped through the door, ushering a thin, wet,
terrified looking man into the shop.

“Quin, this is Auvek Oliphant.” John gestured towards the
temporary proprietor of
William Oliphant, bookseller.

“Found this man loitering. Figured after all the trouble
this last week I should bring him in,” Quin said. He tapped the butler on the
shoulder; the butler jerked away from him.

“I haven't done anything wrong!” he exclaimed. “I was just
window shopping!”

“You don't window shop outside one store, in the rain, near
sunset, when most places are closed, especially when most of the windows on the
street are boarded up!” John replied. “I am very rich and famous, and I was
concerned you might be after me. You should be more careful.”

The butler nodded brusquely. A frown sat between his eyes.
“Of course.
My mistake.”

“What is your name?”

“Alexander Butler,” the butler replied, looking very small
next to Quin’s massive stature and avoiding John's straightforward glare. “May
I go now?”

“Do you have a card?” John asked.

Butler reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small
piece of paper. “Here you go.”

“Then yes, you may go. And please, don't loiter after dark
on rainy nights in front of closed stores. Someone might think you're a thief.”

“Your wish,” Butler bowed with a mildly sarcastic
expression.
“My command.”

The bell dinged and the door slammed shut behind him.

“Can I come out now?” Bronwyn asked.

“No!” Auvek and John exclaimed simultaneously.

“What if he waits around outside?”
Auvek asked.

“Or just happens to turn around and see you?” John added.

“Why is he following you?” Quin asked.

“He's following me because Aunt Llewellyn has forbidden me
from researching the Clock legend,” Bronwyn said, peeking over the edge of the
counter, “so she has him follow me everywhere to make sure I don’t learn
anything. And she’s been especially suspicious ever since I spent the night
here right when it opened.”

“Why doesn't she want you researching it?” John asked.

“She says it’s an evil fairy tale and no good can come of
it.”

“Sounds exactly like something I would want to research!”
John replied. They both grinned.

“Are you buying that?” Auvek asked, pointing at the book in
John's hand. “I need to close up.”

“Oh right!” John replied. He placed the book on the counter
and pushed it forward. It made a screeching noise as it scraped across the
wood. “I'm not actually buying this. I just wanted to show you—there's a
Woertan gemstone hidden in the binding. If you leave it, the book is worth a
fortune. If you take it out, the book is still worth a fortune, but the gem is
worth a bit less since they’re relatively common. These are collector’s items.”

Bronwyn popped up from behind the desk and gazed over
Auvek's shoulder as he turned the book over in his hands.

“How do you know?” Auvek asked.

John pointed at a seam that went down the inner lining of
the back cover. “That. Touch it. Feel the soft spot? That is when they cut the
hole in the hard cover. The gems were a little smaller than the hole, so they
made a soft spot in the cover. Lucky you didn't put it on your sale shelf.”

“Well, I wouldn't have. This book is by Snickley Downs. It’s
worth quite a bit without the gem in it.”

“Lock that up,” John said. “Have you found the fortune of
illegal books hiding in the basement yet?”

“What?!”
Auvek and Bronwyn
exclaimed in unison, looks of shock bursting across their features.

“A basement?”
Auvek repeated.

“Master John!” A voice called from behind them.

The group watched Simon brachiate from shelf to shelf and
then land on all fours in front of them. Dust poofed up in tiny mushroom clouds
each time his slender fingers grasped a shelf.

“Master John,” he said solemnly. “You mustn't be giving away
all of my secrets.”

“You have to tell him, Simon.” John crossed his arms. “As
soon as Rathead and Stryker find out that Auvek doesn't have all the Oliphant
family secrets under lock and key, they'll come snooping and finding things and
you'll start losing the game.”

“Hold up!” Auvek interrupted. “First let me just point out
that you are arguing with a robot monkey. Second, I would appreciate being
allowed to play whatever game it is you're playing. And third, how do you know
my monkey?”

John chuckled. “I think I owe you a few explanations.”

“I'll put up the closed sign!” Bronwyn volunteered eagerly.

“And I,” John said, “will tell you the story told to me by
William Oliphant the thirty-third, when I was just a tiny baby. That was before
he got arrested.” He smiled.

Auvek nodded and looked at Bronwyn. “I think Salve just
missed out on his story.

They both laughed.

*****

After quite a long trek through the corridors of Meteor II,
Misty was looking rather weary, but Chair Rizinski hadn’t seemed to tire one
bit. Question after question poured from his
mouth,
and
Samson was growing rather tired of the inanity.

“I hear yellow can cause insanity,” Chair Rizinski said.
“Have you had to send anyone living in the yellow apartments to a
psychiatrist?”

“No,” Samson replied. He could hear Misty scribbling in her
notebook. So far she had filled about fifteen pages. He wondered what she was
writing. “The only person we have sent to a psychiatrist was a young engineer a
few years back who arrived and was suddenly struck with a powerful
astrophobia.”

“I see.” Rizinski nodded once.

Samson opened the door which led into the Pilot Chamber. “To
get to the Pilot Chamber we have to go through the vacuum tank.” He pressed a
button and the door slid open. They stepped into dark room with two orange
lights overhead. The door slid shut behind them and a hissing noise filled the
air.

“What’s that?” Chair Rizinski demanded.

“It’s the gravity swap,” Samson replied. “It hisses. Hang
onto the handholds.”

Slowly they began to feel lighter. Chair Rizinski waggled
his arms. His coat tails floated slightly. Misty let out a squeak.

“If I had wanted to float, I would have gone on a boat,” she
said, clutching a handhold tightly.

The door in front of them slid open.

For the first time since he arrived, Chair Rizinski’s eyes
widened. The Pilot Chamber was a glass sphere, which self-tinted depending on
the location of the sun. At this moment, facing away from the sun, the glass
was clear, which gave the effect of floating helplessly in space. A console of
instruments floated in the middle of the room, and the three pilots swam around
it, reading the screens and pressing buttons.

“The kid we had admitted went insane right in this very
room,” Samson stated, smiling slyly.