F Wilson - The Dark at the End

Jack shook his head. “But does it make sense that he left it in Johnson, New Jersey, where we could find it? Seems just a little too convenient.”

“Now that you mention it,” Eddie said. “It seems a lot too convenient.”

“On the surface, yes, but ‘too convenient’ implies that someone put it there for us to find. Think about that. We first discovered that sigil when we were in our midteens. Rasalom was reborn just a few months before you. That means when you were fourteen, he was fourteen. Do you see him, at some time during his first fourteen years, hunting down his sigil, transporting it to Johnson, New Jersey, and somehow hiding it under the Lodge? And that’s a big ‘somehow’ because the sigil would never fit through that trapdoor we found back then. ‘Too convenient’ requires an awful lot of assumptions, don’t you think?”

Jack mulled that a moment, then gave a reluctant shrug. “Point taken. But I’m still uncomfortable with how convenient it turned out for us.”

Weezy understood. That skepticism made Jack Jack, one of the reasons he had survived so long doing what he did. She doubted she could make him comfortable, but maybe she could make him less uncomfortable.

“I don’t think he had anything to do with its presence in Johnson. But I’ll bet the Order did. What do we know about the sigil? It’s a relic of the First Age, which makes it about fifteen thousand years old. Because it’s made of the virtually indestructible tenathic, it survived the Great Cataclysm that ended the First Age. Because it’s a relic of that time, it was only natural that the Septimus Order-which adopted it as its seal-would have preserved it through the ages. Somehow it wound up in the Pine Barrens.”

“It’s that ‘somehow’ that bothers me. Even if it’s not ‘too convenient,’ it’s one helluva coincidence. And ‘no more coincidences,’ remember?”

“Well, we know from Glaeken that the Order settled in the Barrens and caged the last q’qr there-another leftover of the First Age. Is it such a stretch to believe that they’d bring along this ancient, damaged sigil too? Unless they’ve got some sort of Rosetta Stone, I’m sure they had no idea of the significance of the seven glyphs, or that it had once belonged to the One. But they kept it because it was an antique, a reminder of their salad days. It wound up in the town that was eventually buried, and they built the Lodge over it.”

Jack’s expression remained sour. “Just blocks from the home of the Heir.”

“No, you’ve got it backward, Jack. Rasalom’s sigil was brought to the Barrens long, long before you were born. Probably before the Pilgrims arrived. The sigil wasn’t moved near you-you came to it. Do you know why your folks settled in Johnson?”

He shook his head. “Never occurred to me to ask. My folks got married in the fifties, and moved to Johnson after Kate was born. I have no idea why they chose Johnson. I’m pretty sure it was my dad’s idea-he liked the idea of raising a family in a small town, away from all the crowding and problems of big-city life, and my mother tended to leave those decisions up to him. Wish he was alive so I could ask him.”

“Well, I can see only three possibilities: He was either drawn there, pushed there, or just happened to stop there.”

Jack grimaced. “I’ve been moved around the chessboard all my life. Maybe he was too.”

“So maybe it’s not a coincidence.”

“Maybe it’s not,” he muttered.

He still didn’t seem satisfied.

“What’s wrong, Jack?”

Instead of answering, he pulled off the road into a service area and parked near the food court.

“We have to go back.”

“What?” Eddie said. “No way. We’re halfway home.”

Weezy was baffled. “Go back for what?”

“I need to see that sigil again.”

Eddie popped his seat belt loose and leaned forward. “But you won’t get to see it again. As it was, we were lucky we weren’t arrested for trespassing or breaking and entering. They’ll be watching for us. We got what we came for. If we go back to that Lodge again we’re sure to get arrested and that’s the last thing we need.”

For once she had to agree with her brother. As much as she hated to side against Jack…

“He’s right, Jack. Risking arrest only plays into Rasalom’s hands. We need to get this name to the Lady and put the Naming Ceremony behind us.”

“Okay, maybe three of us can’t go back, but one can.”

“How?” Eddie said.

“Where the hell are we?”

“Exit Seven-A is ahead,” Weezy said. “Route 195. Trenton, et cetera.”

“Good. Gotta be a car rental place there. I’ll rent something and drive back to Johnson while you continue on to the city.”

He put the car back in gear and started moving again.

She said, “I don’t get it, Jack. I just don’t get it. What do you hope to find?”

“Nothing. I hope everything is just what we think it is. But I…” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Give me something. Please.”

“I just don’t like the way everything is falling together so neatly. It feels orchestrated.”

“Maybe it is orchestrated-but by the Ally.”

“Yeah, well, you know how much I trust the Ally.”

Weezy sighed. She had no comeback for that. She knew what the Ally had done to him. She didn’t trust it either.

But she trusted Jack.

Ernst checked his watch again. Hours now since he’d dropped off the One.

The One had offered no explanation, simply directed him to an address in the East Twenties and walked into a brick-front office building. A brass plaque was affixed to the wall to the left of the door, but in the fading light Ernst could not read it from the street.

I must feed…

What was he feeding on in there?

Ernst had driven around the block a number of times until a parking space opened with a view of the entrance. He’d left the car and walked over to view the plaque close up.

He could find nothing else to give any hint as to what was being renewed, so he returned to the car and called the Order’s office in midtown. He asked the receptionist who answered to look up the organization.

After a short wait she said, “It appears to be a drug rehabilitation facility.”

Ernst stared at the entrance. What possible need could the One have for a place like that?

He watched a few people straggle in and out-none of them looked like the clientele one would expect at a rehab center. Finally the One appeared. He walked to the curb and stood. Ernst started the car and pulled in before him.

Ernst got a brief look at him while the courtesy light was on and was nearly as shocked at his appearance now as he had been this morning. The wounded, haggard, exhausted, depleted man who had exited the car was gone, replaced by someone who looked healthy and rested.

Still scarred, yes, and still missing his left hand, but the scars seemed less prominent, his complexion had improved, and he seemed to have-was it possible?-filled out.

“Sir, you look…” He searched for the right word.

“Renewed?”

Yes. Exactly.

“May I ask-?”

“Not your concern, Drexler. Your immediate concern lies in retrieving the item I entrusted to you for safekeeping before the Internet fiasco. I assume you still have it.”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Then proceed.”

Traffic was light and he made good time, pulling in front of his building fewer than fifteen minutes later.

“I will wait here.”

Ernst hurried up to his apartment but entered cautiously. What if Jack waited inside? Not an irrational fear-it wouldn’t be the first time. Ernst would have to choose sides right then and there: Tell Jack that his prey waited below, wounded and unsuspecting, or keep the One’s confidence.