Vellum and Green Vitriol
Copyright © 2007, S. Y. Affolee
The First Conjuration
Seal VII
"Ma'am. Sir. Number eight."
I peeked into the berth as one of the train line's orderlies in a fastidiously pressed navy uniform hefted my suitcase, and then Rhys', into an overhead compartment. Two long seats, upholstered in discrete brown and yellow geometric patterns, faced each other in the berth that was probably about three and a half paces wide and maybe twice again as long. The door to the berth was a dark varnished wood, the same as the corridor in the train car. There was a window in the berth as well. At the moment, the curtains were drawn aside, revealing the bustling Colchester station.
"Thank you," I said as I showed the orderly our train tickets and Rhys discretely dropped a tip into the man's hand. I entered the berth and took the left seat, feeling suddenly drowsy. My employer, the professor back at the Institute, claimed that large meals made people sleepy--that was why he made it habit to miss lunch.
He dropped into the seat across from mine. "So, what's your plan?"
"Plan? You mean once we get to Greenglass? I'll go to the auction house first and see if they have the Liber Tutelarum."
"And if they do?"
"Buy it."
"You have the funds?"
"I've had centuries to accumulate funds. Of course I have funds."
"I apologize. You just don't seem..."
"Affluent?" I took my hat off--a cloche hat similar to the one that had been badly wrinkled in the incident at Parrish Books, except it was a dark green which matched my coat. "I don't like living the lifestyle. It makes one too obvious. If you blend in with everyone else, no one will notice that you never age."
"It's also possible to buy a manor somewhere out in the country and be an eccentric who no one sees."
"That's boring. I might as well hole myself up in someone's private collection."
He appeared to take an interest in the activity outside. "I know it's not a polite question for a lady, but then again you're not precisely a lady--in the person sense, of course. Exactly how old are you?"
"I was first penned in 1252." I leaned back and closed my eyes. "I became aware about three hundred and fifty years later. What about you?"
"You're a baby."
"I'm an ancient compared to your girlfriends."
"Fair enough. I was written in 934. But became aware in 1066."
I opened my eyes and regarded him warily. "1066. That isn't a coincidence, is it?"
"No."
I wanted to ask him about what had happened, if he had anything to do with William the Conqueror, if he had any role at all in the invasion of England. But even if his expression appeared serene now, I knew the act of becoming aware was not a pleasant thing. And if he told me what had happened to him, I would be obligated to share my own past. And there were some things which I had never shared with anyone.
"You said before that you knew of the other editions of yourself," I said finally. "How did you find out about their whereabouts? Are they aware as well?"
"Yes, they are aware. We had been kept as a set up until that time. And we awoke together. We have kept in touch off and on, but we mostly go our own ways. Our natures, I suppose." He shrugged. "And we've always had different goals. I wasn't the one who always had the conscience."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Sometimes I sold my services--as a grimoire--to the highest bidder. My employers were not nice people."
"People who want to get their hands on grimoires are generally not nice people." There was a whistle and the train car jerked into motion. "But that is the curious thing. Now you are after a sorcerer, the kind who could have employed you before."
"Yes. It's a little complicated."
"Revenge?"
"I'm a book. I don't feel revenge." But his eyes were curiously flat. "I just don't like leaving loose ends about."
* * *
Something jolted me awake. A bad dream? As far as I knew, I didn't dream. Or at least I never remembered them. That was something to ask Rhys--if he ever had dreams.
The rest of the berth was empty. I assumed my traveling companion had probably gone out to walk about the train. He didn't strike me as the kind who would bother staying cooped up in a berth if there was something else to do. Perhaps he was out taking advantage of the pleasures being a person afforded--like flirting with the female passengers. The curtain was pulled down so that the berth was mostly dim. I brushed the curtain aside and peered out. In the waning afternoon light, I saw grassy plain and mountains or hills in the distance. I remembered maps that had shown that Greenglass was located in a small valley among a mountainous region peppered with plateaus and strange formations. During the summers, people went to Greenglass to see these strange formations which the locals called fairy chimneys.
I let the curtain drop and raised my arms for a stretch. Perhaps I should also get an informal tour of the train.
When I exited berth number eight, the corridor was empty. Vaguely, I recalled one of the porters pointing to the right to the dining car. As I walked, I felt the almost imperceptible sway of the coach. The clacking of the rails was a muffled staccato keeping time like a metronome.
One of the berth doors slammed open revealing an older woman, perhaps in her sixties framing the doorway. She was wearing one of those evening wear gowns, a blue satin dress with a sash of a slightly darker hue riding low on her waist. She also had on a wrap made of gauzy lace and a necklace that dangled down into a knot of pearls. Her hair was dyed an unnatural yellow.
Her eyes were a cold, clear blue and she was staring at me.
"Young lady," she said in an imperious voice used to command, "That would not do for dinner."
I probably was her elder by several centuries, but I looked down at myself anyway. My skirt was slightly wrinkled from napping in it. I didn't think anyone would notice. And I said so.
The older woman made a disapproving sound at the back of her throat. "Young people these days!" She nearly yelled in my face. "They have no sense of propriety."
I suppose it would be out of the question to tell her that as an "unmarried woman" I was also sharing a berth with a man. She wouldn't understand that it was all right because we were both books.
There was some banging from a berth nearby and another passenger's voice called out, "Will you be quiet, old lady? Some of us are trying to sleep."
"See?" she said furiously, even though she did lower her voice. "People have absolutely no respect these days. It's those stupid girls trying to fight for 'equality' which is the start of all this trouble."
"Actually, I think it is a good thing if everyone was considered equal."
"Not you too," the woman huffed. "No matter. You don't seem like some of the other imbeciles I've met on this train. I'm Lenora Battington. I'm the second cousin to the Earl of Waverly."
I wasn't particularly impressed--especially since I've never heard of someone named the Earl of Waverly. "I'm Ana Talbot. And I don't have any second cousins."
"A terrible thing that," Lenora said, hooking her arm with mine without a by your leave. "Second cousins can come in useful sometimes."
"I'll keep that in mind."
At any time, I could have walked off and ignored the old woman, but I was bored and curious so I just let her drag me through the corridor and through the connecting doors to the next car--which was not the dining car as I had originally guessed, but a sort of observation car with a few tables but mostly couches set up. Did I inadvertently blunder into a first class compartment? Well, as long as no one checked my ticket, no one would know.
"This is Oswald Henry," Lenora announced as she pulled me abreast to a table where two portly men in black suits were playing cards. "And this is Robert Pendington. They're of Pendington and Henry, the well known solicitor's office at Cambridge."
I blinked at her blankly.
"They're single and rich as Croesus," she whispered loudly in my ear.
Was she trying to set me up with these corpulent specimens? But just to be polite, I said, "Nice to meet you, gentlemen."
Robert Pendington just grunted as he slapped down a six of spades, but Oswald Henry managed to look up and nod rather civily. "Good evening ladies. Who is your lovely companion, Mrs. Battington?"
"Ana Talbot of...where did you say you were from, dear?"
"Of nowhere," I replied. "But my father was an Italian monk," I added helpfully.
Pendington was in the middle of his drink which he almost chocked on. Lenora gave an outraged gasp. Henry merely seemed puzzled.
"Aren't monks supposed to be celibate?" he asked.
Lenora faked a laugh. "Oh, don't pay attention to her words, Mr. Henry. You know how young ladies are these days. They will say anything to get a shock out of everybody."
"Even if it is true?" I said slyly.
The old woman gave me a scathing look. "Just like that. But otherwise, she is charming."
"Now that's the first I've heard of it." I crossed my arms and took a look at the cards on the table. And since I was standing, also a peek at the hands. So far, they weren't playing very intelligently, but then again, I had no inclination in helping them. It wasn't my game.
"You're being rather hard headed about this, my dear," Lenora said when she pulled me aside. "Just say some sweet words and you'll have them eating out of your hand."
"Thanks, but no thanks, Mrs. Battington. I'm not looking for a rich husband. Which, of course, begs the question, exactly why are you trying to play matchmaker? What's in this for you?"
"Why nothing's in it for me! I'm just a natural born matchmaker..."
"You know what I think? These gentlemen are paying for you to find them some young nbile thing for an evening's entertainment."
She gasped. "You would never imply such a thing! I am not some...some madam for a brothel."
"You said it, not me."
"Ah, Ana. I've been looking all over for you." Rhys had reached my side, but he was smiling at Lenora who had a ferocious frown on her face. "I didn't see you at the berth."
"I decided to stretch my legs," I replied. "Rhys, let me introduce you to Mrs. Battington. I bumped into her on my way to the dining car."
"Good evening, Mrs..."
"You didn't tell me you had a husband," she interrupted him in an annoyed gush. "Now I've made a fool of myself."
Rhys furrowed his brow. "What?"
I patted his elbow. "Just humor her."
"You know, I'm beginning to think that you're trying to humor me," he said. "I think you're willfully omitting things."
"I'm not that kind of person." I uncrossed my arms and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket. "Besides, I was heading to the dining car."
"Would you care to join us for dinner?" Rhys asked Lenore with a winning smile.
"The old lady still looked unconvinced. "Thank you, but no. I'm already promised to some dinner companions."
I nodded and moved towards the end of the observation car. I was aware of Rhys shadowing me as Lenore made her way back to the gambling lawyer partners.
"I just leave you for one moment and you disappear on me."
I didn't turn around as I pulled open the connecting door. "I'm not some chained book. I'm not a child."
"But you were sleeping."
"I awoke."
The dining car was already half full when I stepped into it. I chose one of the tables further away from the other passengers. Outside, the sun had set and the countryside passed by like dark blue shadows in a wrinkled piece of velvet.
A waiter soon passed by our table, rambling off the night's menu choices. I ordered some chicken and rice. Rhys chose the steak. A moment after conveying our orders to the chef, he came back with a bottle of cabernet sauvignon.
"If we're fortunate, the auction house will still be in possession of the book," I said as I idly swirled the wine in my glass. "I can't really imagine anyone wanting to buy it immediately, aside from Blackthorne. But he doesn't have the receipt so I would assume that we have a head start."
"I wouldn't be so optimistic," he replied. "There are some bidders who are like gamblers; they are addicted to the act of buying no matter the object. And you would be surprised by the number of book collectors in the country who actually make the trip to Greenglass."
"Then we'll track down the buyer."
"You won't give up will you?"
"Not at this point, no." I switched my hand to the glass of water. "You don't know how long I've been trying to find my siblings. You're lucky you know where your siblings are."
"Have you ever considered that maybe your siblings don't want to be found?"
I swallowed some water and said simply, "I'm going to find them because I want to know if they still exist. If they don't want me in their lives, then I won't bother them."
"Persistent. Although I must admit that it would be nice to have a sibling who cared enough to find out if I was around."
"Really?"
"Yes. Because then I could probably have someone I could depend on to do favors for me."
I rolled my eyes. "You sound like a leech."
"Did I ever say that I was a nice person?"
"Quite the contrary as I recall. I doubt that you would be even here traveling with me if it weren't for your--whatever it is you have against the sorcerer."
"True. Although I must admit that traveling with you isn't at all boring."
"Ah, what you mean is that I'm annoying."
"Well, I wouldn't say exactly that. You're not exactly what I would have expected. I've never really met a woman or a book like you."
I found myself chuckling. "I think what you said was a bad thing."
Soon the waiter arrived with dinner and the rest of the evening was spent talking about Greenglass and its auction house.
|