main | table of contents The Reflecting Eye Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee 18 A Brief Walk “Have you ever visited the port itself?” Verity blinked away the words and numbers staring at her in the face and turned her head to look at Gammell. He had a book in his lap. The pad of paper in his hand was filled halfway with words. “The city’s port?” “Yes.” “No I haven’t. I thought there were only fishermen’s boats out there.” “That’s not all that is out there.” He tucked the pad into the book as a placeholder and placed it on top of the pile of other books. “I can show you around.” “Right now?” “Why not? Think of it as a break.” He got up and got his coat. “Or at least I need a break. I can’t stand sitting around in one place for long periods of time.” She glanced at the file she was in the midst of working on but left it on the desk. “All right.” She got up to take her own coat. “You look so wrapped up in your work. You must really like cataloguing.” She shrugged. “I’m good at it.” And sometimes while cataloguing, she could forget about the problems in the real world, she thought silently. Gammell took up his keys and stuffed them into his pocket after he locked the door behind them. The air was crisp and cool. As Verity breathed out, she could see her breath as a cloud of white vapor. The sky was a pearly gray as wispy clouds raced overhead toward the sea. The ground the lighthouse sat on did not immediately meet the sea. First, the land had to steeply slope downward onto a rocky beach. “This way,” said Gammell. There were some rough stone steps a few yards away hewn into the slope. The edges of the steps were rounded and smoothed away as if years of airborne sand had whittled away the sharp edges into something softer. They descended onto the rocky beach which felt hard and cold even underneath the thick padding of their boots. As they navigated the beach stones, some of the rocks would tumble and clack together as sharp hiccupping sounds among the uniform roar of the sea. In the distance, Verity could see the port that Gammell had mentioned. Naked masts and bobbing vessels looked like so much driftwood on the winter water. “Some sources say that the ancient things did not initially live on this land,” said Gammell. His gaze was away from her, fixated on their destination, the docks. “In the beginning of time, Monteport and all the rest of the cities were nothing—just a barren empty plain. No spirits or gods looked over the land. It was useless, until man ventured to the shores and brought with him his beliefs. It was only then that the other ever took hold here.” “And you believe that?” said Verity. “It is hard to believe anything if what you’re talking about has happened so long ago,” he replied. “Perhaps man did bring in things that were better left undisturbed to this formerly pristine land. But I think the other—the other doesn’t care about man. It just is. And it is always searching for something new for its own strange purposes.” Not understanding, she said, “That doesn’t make sense. Why doesn’t whatever it is just remain where it is if it’s fine where it already is?” “I don’t know. These other things do not think like humans. If they think at all.” The dock neared and Verity could finally make out a dark wood boardwalk rimming the edge between land and sea. Small dinghies and rowboats were the closest to shore, some of them tied up simply to a stump on the dock by a coil of rope. The larger boats bobbed on the dark water like silent animals with unblinking eyes, the masts without sails as antennas listening to anything and everything. A larger cargo ship was anchored further off from the shore. From that distance, it looked unmoving in the waves. A sudden gale whipped up stinging the cheeks. The smaller boats rocked dangerously in the water. “The Rothburnes, back when they were still a prominent family, used to own a fleet of ships,” he said. He tucked his hands further in his pockets and glanced at her. Verity was looking out onto the boats, momentarily fascinated by their small chaotic movements. “They were into businesses of all sorts and shipping was one of them. They imported spices and fabric and various other types of cargo.” “So what happened?” “As the family fortunes declined, whether from the economy or the supposed curse one of my hapless ancestors bestowed on the following generations, the fleet of ships was sold off to various other shipping companies. The ships sailed to other ports, never to return to Monteport.” “It must be sort of bittersweet, coming out here to the dock.” “I never saw the ships, so I can’t say. And after all this time, I’m sure they’ve already been dismantled, decommissioned, destroyed. One can’t miss something that one has never had.” “I suppose that’s true also. But at least you have some sort of family history you can look back on. I know very little about my own ancestors except for the fact that they lived overseas.” “Sometimes, the past can be a burden. It completely colors your life.” Verity finally turned to look at him. “You never gave me the impression that you resented your past.” His lips twisted in an ironic smile. “If I had been born in a completely different family in a completely different city, I wouldn’t be here trying to find out what I’m supposed to do and chasing down unknown and unseen things.” “But then you wouldn’t be what you are.” “Crazy, you mean?” “Not necessarily crazy, but perhaps, not as self aware?” “Sometimes I wish I weren’t so self-aware. Let’s go back. There’s no one here.” They turned around to head back to the stony beach. Now their destination was the lighthouse on the cliff, a solitary sentinel along the sea. “Earlier this morning, Pelorus called me wanting to set up a meeting later today to check up on our progress.” “Really? What is our progress?” “Not very far,” Gammell replied. “So far in my research, I haven’t found anything about titanium mirrors. I wonder if Pelorus blew a rumor completely out of proportion and that all we’re chasing here are dust motes.” “And what about that Verne warehouse?” “I was thinking of checking that out if he hadn’t called for a progress report. I have a hunch that there might be someone there who would have more information than what I or some of my colleagues who keep up with rumors about the underground market have gathered so far.” “Do you have hunches often?” she asked. “I have hunches all the time. I’m just never sure I’m right until the event comes to pass.” “Are you often right?” “I never kept track, to be honest.” Verity took one of the stone steps and stopped as his hand touched her elbow. She looked back. They were now level, face to face, eye to eye. “Verity?” “Hm?” He was close enough that she could faintly smell his after shave in the wind. He was close enough that she could see that his eyes weren’t a uniform brown-green but were bursts of dark gold with a greenish halo. She felt her heart hammering in her chest and she wondered if it would be best for her to move away. “Have you ever met someone and…” “And what?” “And realized that things were not quite the same as before?” “Have you?” Instead of answering, he dipped his head and pressed his mouth against her mouth. Instinctively, she closed her eyes and felt the wind tugging at her hair and his lips moving against hers, a bit rough, chapped, and cold from their jaunt outside. Her mind scrambled for purchase. When he raised his head to gauge her reaction, she felt paralyzed. Had she fallen into that same hole again? She blinked slowly and pressed her lips together. “I’ve realized a lot of things,” he said finally. “Yeah, me too.” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears. He started up the stairs. Automatically, she moved, keeping up beside him. “Pelorus is not going to be happy when I tell him we have not made any headway on his project so far.” “It was his fault for calling for a meeting this early. But if I’m there too, you don’t have to bear all of his wrath.” He slanted her a glance, but kept his hands away from her. Instead he said, “You’re the first person who has ever offered to stand up for me.”