The Light Who Shines (30 page)

Jack Tanner: June 1, 2022, Red Ages

I walk into Dragomira’s shop, and the familiar book stacks
and shelves of gadgets meet my eye. Nothing much ever changes in this shop.
Dragomira stands at the counter, absorbed in one of her textbooks as always.
Her softly waving hair frames her still arresting features, and her elegant
hands turn a page. She finally looks up, and her eyes lighten as she takes me
in.

“Jack,” she says in her mesmerizing voice, “I see you
received my message.”

“Of course.”

She looks a bit put off. “Well, I see you were in no hurry.”
Then she comes out from behind the counter, quickly turns the deadbolt in the
door, and flips the closed sign to face outwards. “Come,” she says. “We have
much to discuss.”

She ushers me into the back room, which is an extension of
the store filled with even more books and more gadgets and more dust, but no
windows or sunshine or spying eyes. The room is lit with firefly lanterns.
“Would you care for a drink?” she offers.

“No, thank you.”

“Well, I’ll have one.” Dragomira moves her finger in a small
pattern, and a cabinet door opens obediently to reveal a decanter filled with a
deep amber liquid. As she pours it into a glass, I identify by scent that it is
a finely aged whiskey. With her glass in hand she sits down in one of a pair of
comfortable wingback chairs next to the stone fireplace. I take the other.

Dragomira says, “Illustrissima came to visit me. Why didn’t
you tell me you were sending her?”

I frown. “I didn’t. She found her way here on her own.”

Dragomira’s eyes open wide, looking for a moment absolutely
nothing like a being of her great age. Then she nods to herself as though
working something out. Dragomira says, “She called herself Bluebell, and I
didn’t recognize her at first as the one you call Blue. Does she know who she
is yet?”

This makes me very angry. “Dragomira, you don’t know who she
is yet! You are jumping to conclusions prematurely.”

Dragomira’s eyes suddenly spark with a bright yellow light.
“I am not the one biased here, Jack. I have been studying this for two thousand
years. Over the course of those two thousand years, I have met quite a few
people, and never have I come to this conclusion. So I am most certainly not ‘jumping’
to anything.”

I feel a bit ashamed. “Please accept my apologies.” When
Dragomira nods briskly, I ask, “So what makes you so sure?”

Dragomira swirls her whiskey in the heavy cut crystal glass,
letting the aroma waft up to her face. “Her light, of course, is so obvious.
But that is not enough. I tried to delve into her mind, but that failed as
well.”

I sit forward, enraged. “You delved into her mind!”

Dragomira takes a generous sip of her whiskey and leans back
as she says, “I
tried
to delve into her mind. As I said, she is blocked.
She has a thick wall around her. I couldn’t get in, which is certainly
something. And you should have seen the Fairy dust swirling up to greet her
when she entered. It was as though every particle was alive!”

I shout even louder, “Fairy dust! You are making decisions
based on Fairy dust! Are you out of your mind?”

Dragomira huffs. “Clearly you do not understand the
significance.” Then she sets her whiskey down and leans toward me, the deep cut
of her surplice blouse revealing beautiful curves that do nothing for me.

“Jack, you have been watching after her so long. Have you
forgotten the why of it? Pretending she isn’t who she is will only make the
danger to her more grievous. You must come to grips with this. She has a role
and a purpose that have been foretold for two millennia. You can’t stop it by
denying it.”

I stand, raking my fingers through my hair as I pace. I
think of all the hopes and denials and fears that have been drifting through my
head for the last twenty-odd years I’ve been watching over her. She is not the
right one. The Shining One will not come while I still hold on to my soul. She
is the Light Bearer, but she will fail. Worst of all, I will fail her. All of
my doubts and fears swirl around in my head. Finally, the one I can most easily
voice rips itself from my gut. “She is too young yet!”

Dragomira looks up to me with slitted eyes and says, “We do
not choose the time of our calling. Had I a choice, I would have chosen it as a
tender hatchling of fifteen years rather than waiting two millennia.”

I’m still not convinced. “I need more proof. Can you get
more proof?”

Dragomira picks up her whiskey again and swirls it a little,
examining its amber depths. I stand there with my heart in my throat, awaiting
her decision. She finally looks up at me and says, “I can give her a test. Have
her come to me again in two days’ time.”

A weight lifts off of my chest and I feel the tension
draining from me. Surely she will fail the test. Surely Dragomira is wrong. She
is just a girl with a white aura. It happens. It must happen. Just because I’ve
never seen it before doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.

Dragomira stands up and pierces me with her flaming eyes.
“Jack, when she passes the test, you must face reality.”

All my lightness fades away. I run my fingers through my
hair again and say with more confidence than I feel, “I will consider the value
of the test, so make it true, and don’t hurt her.”

“Of course,” Dragomira says.

I wonder what she will do if Blue is the one and her
millennia of waiting and studying comes to an end. I wonder what I will do.

Bluebell Kildare: June 1, 2022, Red Ages

I step toward the LaRoche mansion through the beautifully
landscaped front lawn with my loose, silk tunic and pants blowing gently in the
mild mountain breeze. I feel so much better today. My muscles hardly ache, and
my fat lip is entirely gone. My bruises are so light that I was able to dab a
little concealer on them so they’re not even noticeable. Most wonderful of all,
my headache has not returned.

The entrance to the grand stone building ahead is marked by
a rounded top double door painted in red. It’s framed with white woodwork
surrounding etched sidelights. I straighten my back, remembering Maud’s words
about posture, and try not to look intimidated. Varg brushes up against me, and
I suddenly feel a bit better.

The butler must have seen me walk up because the door is
open when I arrive. The distinguished man raises his bushy eyebrows at Varg. I
say, “He’s my constant companion and very well behaved.”

“And you are?”

“I’m Bluebell Kildare. I have an appointment to see Mr.
LaRoche.” The butler nods in a businesslike manner and says, “Very well, then.
Please follow me. Mr. LaRoche is expecting you.”

I follow the butler into a large main hall with a gleaming,
polished wood staircase and long hallway covered in black and white marble
tiles. We walk about midway down the hallway, and the butler takes a left into
a room, ushering me in with him. He announces at the door, “Ms. Kildare here to
see you.”

I enter and see Robert LaRoche leaning back in an enormous office
chair behind an elegant, carved wood desk. The room is bordered by long, arched
windows, and to my utter delight every space between them is filled with
bookshelves. The inside walls are also lined floor to ceiling with books. A
small staircase leads up to a loft that holds glass-enclosed cabinets and
shelves, which I assume are to display collections of magical artifacts.

I step up to the desk, and Mr. LaRoche rises to greet me.
He’s more handsome than I remember, perhaps in his late thirties, lean and
bookish, with spectacles and a certain grace about him. He is wearing a
tailored, tan linen suit that looks elegant and rich but endearingly wrinkled.
It fits perfectly with his slightly too long brown hair that is raked back off
his face.

I offer my hand, which he shakes with a firm, warm grip. He
sees Varg and seems to accept him graciously.

We appraise each other in a friendly manner then Mr. LaRoche
smiles at me. I wink at Mr. LaRoche in return and say, “You
must
have
secret passages behind those walls. You don’t have to tell me, of course,
because then it wouldn’t be a secret. But if I had a room like this I would
definitely have secret passages.”

Mr. LaRoche laughs outright at this. “Please sit down,” he
says with a genuine smile.

I take the seat across from him. It’s a sleek, black leather
upholstered wing chair with curvy, carved mahogany arms and feet. If ever a
chair were sexy, it is this chair. Varg sits quietly at my feet next to the
sexy legs of the chair.

Mr. LaRoche looks around his study thoughtfully and says,
“Yes, I can see why you’d think there were secret passages. It does sort of
have that look, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. Your home is quite old and grand.” And I
think to myself that I’d bet my last dime there’s a vault behind one of those
bookcases too.

Mr. LaRoche is pleased at the compliment. A smile that
crinkles his eyes behind his wireframe glasses appears on his handsome face. He
could be a real ladies’ man if he wanted. He says, “It’s been in the family for
almost five centuries. We’ve been fortunate to be able to hold it through the
worst of times with the Vampires.”

I whistle. “Not many families have been able to do that. How
did you manage?”

Mr. LaRoche taps his knuckles on the wood desk and says,
“Well, it was a bit of misfortune that actually worked out for us. My great
uncle from centuries ago, Reginald LaRoche, was turned into a Vampire against
his will. What was unusual at the time is that when he came home to the family,
the family welcomed him instead of casting him out. Now, he was the third born
son. Shortly thereafter, a Dark Vampire caught Jacques LaRoche, the first born
son, in the garden and almost killed him. However, Reginald LaRoche heard the
noise and was able to exterminate the Dark Vampire. Since then, through further
misfortune, we’ve had a few more family members turned, and as a result we’ve
always had a Vampire to protect the first and second born sons.”

I think about this. Since Vampires live so long, the family
probably only needed a few Vampires to cover the span of five hundred years. I
say, “That’s an impressive story. You took a bad situation and turned it to
your advantage.”

Mr. LaRoche nods and says, “Yes. While the rest of the
country was at odds with Vampires during the Bloody Era, we always had some
measure of protection on the estate.”

I make a mental note that Mr. LaRoche’s comments are
understated and to watch for this from him in the future. Things were actually
so bad during the Bloody Era before the human and Vampire agreement that many
people had reverted to living in caves and deep in the woods.

He finishes, “We came across the ocean from the Near East in
1200 R.A., so we had already owned the estate for three hundred years by the
time of the Bloody Era. But the house was lost in a fire and rebuilt in stone
five hundred years ago.”

I ask, “So, is that how you became interested in ancient
magical artifacts? Because your own estate held some old magical pieces?”

Mr. LaRoche says in a pleased voice, “Brilliant deduction!
Actually, I inherited the family’s collection, which has been growing over the
centuries. I like to think that we’ve become increasingly knowledgeable over
time. My specialty is semiotics. But enough about me and mine. I understand
you’re intrigued by a particular piece yourself. Why don’t you tell me about
it?”

I say, “Well, you must promise me that the questions I ask
and what I describe to you will be held in the strictest confidence.”

Mr. LaRoche answers easily, “But of course, Inspector Kildare.”

I’m sure my jaw drops because Mr. LaRoche starts laughing at
my surprise and says, “You didn’t think I would fail to do a little research on
you, did you, when you are here to speak with me for that exact skill?”

I pick at the beaded embroidery on my cuffs and say with
chagrin, “Well, I guess I didn’t think you would be that interested. I was
honestly afraid that you wouldn’t want to talk to me if you knew.” I look at
Mr. LaRoche with a wry smile. “And please call me Blue.”

Mr. LaRoche gives me his crinkly eyed grin and says, “Only
if you will call me Robert. And the rest is stuff and nonsense. I promise you I
have no reason to avoid the law.”

I smile at that. “Excellent to hear, Robert. Then I’ll tell
you that the questions I’m about to ask pertain to an investigation surrounding
the murder of a teenage boy. The investigation is ongoing, so I can’t give you
many details. I do have a sketch of the piece for you. It’s an amulet that’s
quite old. I’d like to hear your version of the history of the piece so I can
see if it matches what I’ve heard elsewhere.”

“I’ll do my best,” Robert says.

I hand him the sketch. He looks at it and draws a deep
breath. Then his face becomes serious, and he studies the drawing in detail. He
seems to have forgotten I’m in the room as he examines the picture of the back
of the amulet and nods to himself.

Finally he glances up and says, “First of all, this amulet
is missing a piece: the eye. Without the eye, the amulet is ineffective. Joined
with the eye, the amulet is the key to opening the ancient
Grimorium
Cantionum Spiritualium
.”

I shift a bit in my chair and say, “That much I’ve learned
already.”

Robert asks, “And do you know what the book holds?”

I shift a bit more. Talking about the book makes me antsy.
“My understanding is that it carries instructions for calling demons and
spirits from other planes.”

“Yes, it certainly does that. But that’s a very casual
understanding of its purpose. It’s designed not just to teach you to summon but
also to teach you to manipulate and control all spirits and souls.”

I furrow my brows as I think about this, and after a minute
I say, “I don’t quite understand the difference.”

Robert says gently, “Blue, both you and I have souls. The
underworld is a pit of spirits and demons and souls who are controlled by
Lilith. Imagine the power to control all the souls of the living and of the
dead and of the undead. Imagine the power to determine if someone’s soul stays
in their living body or departs for either the Plane of Light or the Plane of
Fire. Imagine the power to determine if the spirits and demons of the
underworld stay in the underworld or are beckoned here to walk amongst the
living. Imagine the power to control Lilith herself.”

I sit back in my chair with my mind reeling and say, “Oh, I
see. That is quite different. So why would Lilith allow Patersuco to keep the
book if it could be dangerous to her?”

Robert says, “I see you have heard the tale, but most likely
not completely. Lilith did want the book; however, Patersuco meant to bargain
with the sacrifice of his son and his own soul, but never the book. Fortunately
Lilith was tied by the bond of the calling and could not take it unless
Patersuco gave it up as part of the bargain. As corrupt as he was, even he knew
not to give his most powerful weapon to his most powerful enemy. The Birth of
Vampires was really Lilith’s revenge on Patersuco for denying her the book. She
likely wouldn’t have helped Patersuco out at all, but she devised a way to turn
the gift into a curse to get her vengeance on Patersuco and all mankind.

“The book itself had not always been in Patersuco’s
possession. He stole it from a small Pagan temple in ancient Ireland that some
say was built for the express purpose of hiding the book. After he turned into
a Dark Vampire, the book was recovered from his possessions. It’s unknown how
he became aware of it or how he obtained it originally. But clearly after the
theft it could no longer be contained in that place. Since it held the power to
control Lilith, it could not be destroyed. It was too valuable a tool, but it
needed to be held for only the direst need. So the book was separated from the
key, and the key was broken in two. All three items are hidden in separate
locations.”

“Do you know where these locations are?”

Robert shakes his head firmly. “No. And should the knowledge
be just under my nose, I would not seek it out. That is a bounty I prefer not
to harvest.” Robert pauses, then adds, “However, I would not want the wrong
person to find it either.”

I think a moment, then say, “Let’s suppose someone were
looking for these three items. What sort of person would want them?”

Robert takes a deep breath and pauses before speaking.
“Well, almost anyone who had a great hunger for incredible power at any
expense. This book brings great power over the living, the dead, and the
undead. But it most certainly comes at great expense, as Patersuco found out.”

I rub my temple in frustration. I was hoping for something
that would lead me further down the path toward the perpetrator. I don’t know
if I have that now. I look up and say, “Thank you very much for this
information. You have certainly enlightened me.”

Robert says, “A dark topic, indeed. I’m glad I was able to
help.”

An idea springs to my mind. “Can I ask you another question?
It will probably be easier to answer and perhaps even more useful.”

Robert says, “Of course. I shall do my utmost.”

I say, “I’d like to give you a list of five names, and I’d
like to know if you’re aware of any of these individuals having an interest in
magical artifacts, just from the circles you’ve been in.”

Robert looks a little relieved and says, “I can certainly do
that.” I think he’s as weary of the morbid topic of the book as I am.

I quickly pull out a note pad and write down the five names.

Gerald
Mack, Chief of Fire Department

Hilda
Gunderson, Owner of Zen Spa and Salon

Milton
Goldberg, Owner of Goldberg Jewelers

Tobias
Blackwater, City Councilman, Treasurer

Hank
Fletcher, General Manager of Mountain Paper Mill

Robert takes my list and goes over the names. “Chief Gerald
Mack purchased an item from me. He was looking for a piece that would help him
with fire investigations. I had a pair of enchanted glassicals that acted like
infrared detectors. When you put them on, they rendered the user capable of seeing
remnants of heat up to a week old. It was a very interesting tool but not very
valuable, and I had no use for it. However, it was extremely useful to Chief
Mack for pinpointing the origin or pattern of a fire that had already died out.

“I saw Milton Goldberg at the Pemberton Estates auction last
spring. He won a few pieces of jewelry that were imbued with certain magical
characteristics. One item was called the Truth Ring. It was charmed to turn red
if the wearer was lying. It was a distasteful piece in my opinion, and I can’t
imagine requiring a loved one to wear it.” Robert stops and looks at me
speculatively. “But a useful piece for an Inspector, I would think.”

The possibilities flow through my mind. “Indeed!”

Robert continues, “Another piece, a beautiful teardrop
pendant actually turned color to match the wearer’s dress, but slightly more
brilliantly. It’s a much more enjoyable piece, in my opinion.”