Realm Wraith (35 page)

“I’ll ask when I go in for work tonight if he knows someone.”

“Thank you.”

“This must be important to you, since you went and spent five hundred pounds on the blasted thing.”

Rayne shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile.

* * *

The police investigated Mr. Bastley’s death soon after. As an employee of his law firm, they stopped by Rayne’s flat to question him, though they seemed more interested in determining the dead man’s mental state than making any accusations, and Rayne told them that his boss had seemed unhinged the last time they met, and it was one of the reasons he quit his job. His words, half-truths at least, were passable, and they thanked him for his time. Apparently Mr. Bastley had spoken to no one after their meeting, leaving the details of that afternoon known only to Rayne. When the police left, he knew they wouldn’t return. They had no reason to suspect him of anything, not for any natural reasons. How could they fathom that something supernatural had been behind the man’s death? Remorse still gnawed at him, though.

Rayne divided the next few days between searching for potential new jobs, his physical therapy, and examining his new rarity. Being able to understand only a handful of words frustrated him, but the pictures amused him. He almost wished he could bring the book with him on his nightly excursions, like a zoological study. He had no doubts that this collection of information was gathered by a fellow Realm Wraith, maybe many of them. He wondered what became of them, if they had found their own way out, or if their lives had ended without redemption. It seemed likely.

On a gloomy Wednesday afternoon, he stared out the window, lost in thought. The clouds had gathered in the sky, sending torrents of rain down below, leaving streets awash with a great flood of nature. The wind drew the drops back and forth in pattern-less form. He found his arm reaching for the window and throwing it open, and he sent his hand past the frame, above the street, catching stray drops and enjoying the cold sting as each one fell into his palm.

A sudden door slam forced his attention away from the weather. He saw Levi, drenched, hair flopping down over his face. More than just the rainwater stained his face. His eyes were red, his nose runny, and tears flowed down his cheeks as he bawled.

“Levi, what’s wrong?” His father rushed to his side, forgetting about the open window.

His son, howling, sat in his lap and buried his face in his father’s chest, soaking his clothes. He continued to wail, babbling nonsense instead of words.

“Levi. Levi! Calm down. Tell me what happened.”

Levi pulled back a little after wiping his nose on Rayne’s shirt, scowling with mournful, reddened eyes.

“T-Tommy, h-he—” His voice turned into hiccupping sobs.

“What is it? What did Tommy do?”

“H-h-he and I, we-we went to his h-home after school and there was—” Levi couldn’t speak between his violent stuttering. “He had it in his bag, and he pulled it out and t-tried to make me touch it and I said no and he-he-he-he
threw it at me!
” His voice elevated to a piercing shriek that made Rayne cover his ears in defense.

“He made you touch his—wait, what? What did he throw at you?”

“
A snake!
” Levi screamed, his eyes wide with abject terror. He collapsed on the floor in a quivering pile of wails and cries.

“Oh dear,” Rayne sighed, more to himself than his son. He reached over his child, more like a screaming caged animal than a young boy, and clasped him on the shoulders.

“Levi, you’ve
got
to calm down. I know you’re scared, but you’re better than this, all right? Did the snake bite you? Are you hurt at all?”

His son shook his head, still weeping. His father nudged him towards the nearby couch. Levi sat down, and Rayne rolled himself next to him.

“All right, listen,” he said. “Knowing Tommy, it was likely a harmless prank. That must have been a grass snake. Levi, you have
got
to get over this fear of snakes! You can’t have a complete breakdown like this every time someone even so much as
mentions
one! I know they’re scary, and some can be very dangerous, but not every serpent is going to kill you the moment it touches you.”

Levi continued to hiccup, wiping tears from his eyes.

Rayne sighed. “Maybe this is my fault. I should have educated you better, or done something about it right away. I was hoping you’d get over it, but this is just getting absurd.” He placed his hands on his son’s shoulder in a supportive kind of embrace. “I know you can be a brave boy. Please, I just want you to try.”

Levi nodded. Rayne went into the study, and came back out with a nature book David kept on the bottom shelf. He placed it on the couch and flipped it open to the section on reptiles.

“Now, how do you feel about lizards?”

Levi sniffled. “They’re not so bad, I guess?”

“No, they’re not. And they’re not that dissimilar to snakes, now are they? They’ve just got legs.”

“I guess so.”

Rayne turned a couple pages to the section on snakes, filled with many colorful pictures of various species. Levi jumped away from the book with a cry.

“They’re only pictures, Levi. They won’t harm you, see?” Rayne traced his finger over the photo of a large python wrapped around a tree branch. His son watched, curled up in the fetal position against the sofa’s armrest.

Rayne continued. “First of all, you should remember there are only about three different species of snake that live in England, so you really have little to worry about. Now, yes, some of them have venom. But they have to bite you first.”

“But I heard they move so fast, you won’t know they’ve bit you until it’s too late!”

“Only if you antagonize them. Snakes like to hide and strike their prey. You’re not prey, so they wouldn’t attack you unless they had no choice. And you wouldn’t be a very good meal for most of these creatures anyways, I mean, look how small some of these things are, and look how big you are. Most of these snakes couldn’t possibly eat you.”

“But what about the bigger ones?”

“You won’t really find those here, except perhaps the zoo, or somebody’s pet. And most of them still won’t attack a human unless they really have a reason. Snakes are animals. It’s not like a person, who might attack someone out of anger or hatred. If it’s not hungry, and doesn’t see you as a threat, then it has no reason to attack you, all right? And the tiny harmless snakes, like the one Tommy threw at you? They’re completely incapable of hurting you at all. Is any of this getting through to you?”

Levi reached out a timid hand, and touched a photo of a small green snake in the picture book. He yanked it back, but stopped shaking as he seemed to understand that a picture didn’t pose any threat.

“How come you know so much about snakes, Daddy?”

“I wouldn’t say I know that much. Most of it’s common knowledge.”

“But you like snakes, don’t you?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it. They’ve never bothered me that much.”

“What about the really, really big ones?”

“You mean pythons and anacondas and the lot? Didn’t I just explain that?”

“No, I mean the really big ones.”

Rayne closed the book and put it on the coffee table. “I don’t follow. There aren’t any snakes bigger than that.”

“The really big ones, bigger than a car, or a ship?”

“Oh, are you talking about the ones they have in films? Well those aren’t real, they’re just special effects.”

“But I’ve seen them.” Levi went quiet, pressing his mouth up against his knees, drawn against his chest.

“Seen them? Where?”

“I’ve had dreams about them.” His voice was even quieter.

“But dreams aren’t re—” Rayne stopped himself. “Your dreams, is it? When was this?”

“I dunno. Lots of times”

“Levi, is that why you’re so scared of snakes? Because of bad dreams? What do you see in your dreams?”

“I-it was just a lot of big snakes. They were scary, and they had these big eyes and sharp teeth. And they chased me. No matter where I ran there were more snakes. And they hiss at me and grab me and—” Levi’s face became more and more panicked and Rayne could sense he was about to have another meltdown.

“It’s fine, I get it. It’s just a nightmare, all right? People’s minds make up funny things when they sleep. Sometimes it’s not always pleasant.” Rayne pulled Levi close to him, and let the child bury his head against his chest as he stroked his messy hair. He couldn’t help but feel disturbed at his son’s description. The horrible possibility that his son could be like him popped into his head, but he dismissed it.

“Do you feel a little better now?”

Levi nodded.

“Good. It’ll take time, but eventually you’ll come to understand that snakes mean you no harm.”
At least the ones on this planet
, he thought as he spoke.

Levi pulled away from him. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“I’m glad I could help. Now why don’t you put your books away. David will be very cross if you leave them lying in the hall.”

“Okay Daddy,” he said, still nervous. He picked up his bag from where it had been thrown to the ground and started to go to his room, but paused for a moment.

“Daddy, you said dreams aren’t real, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then that means that big eye also isn’t real?”

“Big eye?”

“Yeah.” Levi fidgeted in place. “It was purple and it looked like it was on fire. And it kept whispering things at me that didn’t make any sense, and it laughed a lot.”

“When was this?”

“A few days ago.”

“When you crawled into my bed?”

“Uh huh. I was scared.”

“It’s just a dream, Levi. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I know.”

The sullen boy took his belongings into his bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His father sat there, dumbfounded.

“Oh God, no,” he whispered.

* * *

Several hours passed. Levi came out to grab something to eat and headed back into his bedroom. Rayne smiled when he passed by, but said nothing. As much as he wanted to press him for more information, he didn’t want to risk cracking Levi’s already fragile mind with the possibility his dreams might be real after all.

The door opened later that evening with a click, rather than the brutal slamming Levi had given it that afternoon.

“Oh good, you’re still up,” David said, closing up a drenched umbrella and shaking the water out of his hair. He glanced over at the kitchen window. “Did you leave that open? Have you gone mental?”

“Sorry, I completely forgot. Levi had a bit of an incident today.”

“Oh? You’ll have to tell me later, I’ve brought a guest tonight.”

“A guest?”

David turned back to the hall outside the front door. “What are you just standing there for? Come in, come in.”

A woman entered the flat. Her dark clothes clung to her body and the rainy weather left her with damp hair and a much wetter coat. In her hands she clenched a closed umbrella, ignorant of the water droplets that pooled in rivers onto the apartment floor.

“Miranda?” Rayne breathed.

She didn’t meet his eyes, glancing over at David as if she hoped he would keep talking to prevent things from getting awkward.

“You’ll never believe this, Rayne, I got to talking with that fellow I work with. You know, the one I said had a thing for English history? And he told me that Miranda here used to study Old English. So I asked her if maybe she could translate a few things for me. Took a little convincing, but she agreed to come home with me.”

Miranda nodded, hands clasped in front of her. “You’re an hard man to say no to.”

“You’re telling me,” Rayne joked.

“Well, I’m just glad she agreed to come. Oh, where are my manners, I’ll go put the tea on. Unless you’d like coffee.”

“Tea is fine.” She didn’t look at Rayne, watching David walk into the kitchen instead. “So this book I’m to translate, what can you tell me about it?” she called after him.

“Sorry, you’ll have to ask Rayne; it’s his book, after all.”

“Oh.” Miranda glanced at Rayne, somewhat fearful. “David never said it was your book.”

“I’m actually glad you’re here to help me with it. I think you might find it interesting.”

The air hung silent, awkward for several minutes, until David brought them both their tea. “I don’t want to get in the way,” he said. “Why don’t the two of you head to the study; that’s where the book is.”

Rayne wheeled out from beside the couch. “Shall we?” he asked, leading Miranda along.

He closed the door behind him, and indicated for her to sit in one of the armchairs. He reached over to the shelf and grabbed the leather-bound book. Without much fanfare he dropped it on the small table, and rolled back a bit.

“I never figured you to be the type to study old languages,” he remarked, trying to ease the tension.