Vellum and Green Vitriol
Copyright © 2007, S. Y. Affolee
The Second Conjuration
Seal XIV
The map made a crinkling sound as I clenched the edges with my fingers. "You don't need a navigator. You need a talking parrot."
"Why do you say that?"
He said it in such a calm voice that it was easy to imagine that he was immune to my growing agitation. But the small smile at the corner of his mouth convinced me that he was deriving great pleasure in needling me.
"Every time, you say something like, 'Oh, so do we turn right here?' And then I look on the map and simply corroborate your guess. It's not a guess, is it? You know exactly where you're going. You're just giving me something to do with this map you filched from the Greenglass Hotel management."
"I did not filch anything. I just borrowed it."
"Semantics," I sniffed. I folded the map back into its proper orientation and proceeded to watch the passing scenery.
In the fading afternoon light, the strange rock formations in this hilly area rose like sand cones burnished in deep umber. The stone was pitted with dark, evenly spaced holes, like black eyes watching the travelers on the road.
There were two theories about the formations of these fairy chimneys. One, the fanciful theory, was that these were chimneys from a vast underground city built by fairies. The more scientific version was that these formations were the results of unique volcanic action millions of years ago. It was only later that humans took residence here and then abandoned them later when they no longer had to hide from marauding barbarians.
I wondered if people still stayed in these formations now--whether they be stranded travelers or vagabonds.
"Well, the route is fairly easy to follow," Rhys admitted. "There were signs indicating the direction to Fairmont."
"I didn't see those," I frowned.
"That was because you had your head buried in the map. Anyways, I have the feeling that we aren't that far from the town. If we stop into one of the local gathering places, we'll be sure to find someone who knows this Archibald Chesterfield."
"And if not, maybe by the time we came back to Greenglass, Severin would have found his contact information."
"Maybe."
The automobile turned at the bend of the road and suddenly we were driving into a dense evergreen forest. The trees were tall, blocking the setting sun. With the encroaching darkness, Rhys flipped on a switch to turn on the headlights.
"Tell me," he suddenly said, "How you ended up here when you were originally created in Italy."
"I only became aware when I had already arrived here." I replied. "My journey here would only be conjecture. I assumed that while I passed through many owners, I had also traveled. I mean, I know all the times that I've been used--but I wasn't aware of the place." I peered into the dark trees, as murky as my past. Sometimes, I did see things, like memories, but other times, it was nothing.
"So you don't even know who had owned you?"
"Oh, I know. But it's rather academic. Say someone knows that they were born at a particular date and a particular place. They know it, but they don't remember. You say that you were created in the tenth century. You did originate here, did you?"
"No." After a moment, he added, "I was created further east than you. In Constantinople, now of course known as Istanbul. I wasn't written by a monk, though."
"I wouldn't imagine that you were."
The evergreen forest soon thinned out, revealing a widening road and what looked like a small town in the distance. I could make out buildings and even the top of a steeple. The setting sun was now very low in the horizon, washing the sky in a pale rose, punctuated occasionally with lavender clouds.
In a few more minutes, we were driving into the main street of Fairmont and passed a white stone building that had flower boxes underneath the windows with flowers still in bloom. Mums, I deduced. Any other flower would already be dead from the October frost.
"Wait, go back. I think that building was an inn," I said.
"Is it?" But since there was no other traffic on the streets, Rhys braked and pulled automobile into reverse. He parked in front of the building and finally I could make out the sign just sitting next to the front door: Fairmont Bed and Breakfast.
Apparently, someone had observed our arrival as the front door was flung open before we even reached it. A stout woman in an embroidered apron was standing at the threshold with her arms spread as if in welcome. Brown hair was pulled back in a bun and a wide, crooked smile was framed by red cheeks, possibly from standing next to an oven all day. Or judging by the way she was batting her eyelashes at Rhys, she was blushing.
"It looks like you have an admirer," I said lowly.
"Fantastic." He didn't sound like he was exactly pleased.
"I thought you liked the ladies. It wasn't so long ago that you were bragging about how you knew all about them."
"Oh sure. But you try working up some enthusiasm after driving half the day."
"I thought books didn't get tired."
"Well, that's wrong. You overestimate my stamina."
The woman fluttered her hands towards the interior of the inn. "Welcome! You must be from Greenglass. We have room already prepared. I'm Tabitha, by the way. I run this place with my brother Edgar. I'll go get him since he is in charge of the business side of things around here."
|