Gillian Anderson - The Sound of Seas

“You know, I believe you, Mr. Moss,” Eilifir said. “But I am supposed to watch this building. I can’t take charge of them. Anyway, I think you got what you wanted.”

“I don’t follow.”

Eilifir cocked his head toward the two. “Them, out of the house. Do you care if they stay here on the street?”

“I do,” Ben said. “I tell you, there’s something between them and Caitlin.”

Eilifir grinned. “I believe you. I just wanted to make sure.”

“God, can I just have my life back without the games?” Ben asked. “Listen, nothing will be happening here, I assure you. Do you think I’d be leaving if I thought Caitlin would be coming back for breakfast? All you’re going to see happening here is her parents arriving. That’s it. They’ll be coming to take Jacob O’Hara to school and they’ll be here when he gets back. You will also see an exhausted, frustrated psychiatrist named Anita Carter leaving.”

“Madame Langlois seems to believe something else will happen,” Eilifir pointed out. “Snakes.”

“Like Saint Patrick, the snakes will go where she goes,” Ben said. “I’m sure of that too. They’ve only appeared in her presence.”

“As far as you know,” Eilifir said.

“Yes. As far as I know.”

The shorter man gazed at the Haitian pair. Madame Langlois had gone back several paces to sit on the stoop of the building. Huddled in her sweater, she had resumed staring at the dying leaves of the trees. Enok stood at the foot of the steps and watched the two men with unflinching eyes. His face looked, just then, like a skull.

There was a ping. Ben’s eyes dropped to Eilifir’s phone. It had been dark. Now it was beaming with a text. Eilifir looked at it and then at Ben.

“All right,” Eilifir said. “I will take them to our sanctuary.”

“You had me on speakerphone?” Ben asked.

“I did.”

“Nice of you to let me know,” Ben said. “With whom?”

“My superior,” Eilifir said. “We host, but the two of them must go willingly. And they remain with us.”

“You have a deal,” Ben said, pushing his indignation far to the side. “Where—and what—is this sanctuary? Is it a religious institution? A fortress of some kind?”

“Nothing as formidable as that,” the man replied. “It’s an estate in Connecticut. Very large, very comfortable, very isolated. There is an SUV on Central Park West. I will call it to come and collect them.”

Ben exhaled. “So now I have to persuade them to take a ride outside the city.”

“All you have to do is persuade them to get in,” Eilifir said. “I won’t force them to do that.”

“No,” Ben said, “and you will definitely want their cooperation. Hers to get Enok’s. Where in Connecticut?”

“Right on the Long Island Sound, in Norwalk.”

“Water,” Ben said. “I think she’ll like that. All right, give me a moment to talk to them. And Eilifir? The intrigue aside, thank you.”

Eilifir grinned. “The intrigue is not even what makes this work intriguing,” he quipped.

Ben acknowledged that with a nod and Eilifir watched as he walked over to the Langloises. Enok’s eyes followed Ben like those of a predator watching prey. Conversely, Eilifir did not seem interested in Ben; Ben didn’t know whether he should be flattered that he seemed trustworthy or insulted that he suddenly seemed beside the point.

Ben stopped in front of Enok and his mother, took a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Madame Langlois, Enok—the gentleman behind me is a colleague who knows more about this situation than I do,” Ben said. “Would you consider staying with him outside of New York while I—”

Madame Langlois held up a hand and Ben stopped. She removed her necklace, aided by her son, and peered through it at Eilifir.

“I see him still,” she announced. “I feared he might be bokor . He is not. We will go.”

Enok placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. She lightly shrugged it off as she replaced the necklace.

“We came so far,” she said. “We must go farther.” She waved a hand above her. “And I am cold here.” She leaned around Ben. “Have you tea?” she yelled to Eilifir.

“I will make sure you get some,” he responded with a smile.

Ben stood there watching as Madame Langlois raised her elbow and, taking it, Enok carefully helped her to her feet. Together, they walked over to the man. As they did, Ben googled the word she had uttered on his phone.

He was not surprised. Bokor meant sorcerer. The woman might have her quirks and magick, but she was consistent. She really did seem to believe.

Eilifir texted the driver of the SUV, then told the pair a car would be there momentarily. Madame Langlois asked if she would be free to smoke. Eilifir said she would. He asked what she was smoking. She told him it was a Cuban cigar.

“We have not enough land to farm our own,” she informed him.

Enok said nothing.

Walking over, Ben said, “They must like you. Until now, they kept to themselves.”

“Not true,” Madame Langlois said, retrieving her cigar and addressing no one in particular. “Everyone knows us in Port-au-Prince. Everyone.”

Ben wanted to give up. He didn’t know whether Madame Langlois was being difficult or whether she was just that literal. It didn’t matter. In a moment, she would be Eilifir’s problem, at least for a while.

While they waited, Ben leaned close, facing away from the Langloises.

“She was afraid you were a sorcerer,” Ben said. “Why?”

“Shouldn’t you ask her?”

“I don’t have time for more riddles, from them or you,” he said. “Is there something in your past, from Galderkhaan, that she might have picked up on?”

“Probably,” Eilifir said.

That caught Ben off guard. “Care to explain?” he asked.

“I apologize, Mr. Moss,” Eilifir said. “But one must be authorized to divulge information to outsiders.”

“I freakin’ read Galderkhaani,” Ben said. “How am I an outsider?”

“Being a scholar does not make you of our blood,” Eilifir said.

“By ‘blood,’ you mean Galderkhaani?”

“You already know my heritage,” Eilifir said.

“Right. And I’m asking if that’s what you just meant. Or by ‘blood’ do you mean something else, something clannish?”

“I will request permission to tell you more. If it is granted, I will contact you.”

As they spoke, a white SUV pulled over and double-parked near the tree. Eilifir turned; Ben grabbed his arm gently.

“These two people are not bound by your rules of omertà,” Ben said. “I want—I would like to know if they say anything that could help Caitlin.”

“Of course,” the man replied as he turned to open the door.

“One more thing,” Ben said, still holding his arm. Eilifir turned back with less patience. “You said earlier that your ancestors once lived with the Group members, yet you don’t communicate with them now. I assume you’re rivals.”

“Our argument is not with the personnel of the Group as such, but—what you said would be somewhat accurate. And now, that’s all I can say.”

“So your dispute is with… their sponsors,” Ben continued to press.

The other man was silent.

Ben released his arm and took a step back. Without saying anything, the man had confirmed what Ben had already begun to suspect.

Excusing himself, Eilifir prepared to put Madame Langlois in the SUV while her son examined the inside. Only when he stepped back did she get in.

Eilifir shut the door, then went to the passenger’s side and climbed in. He nodded a farewell. Ben briefly saw himself reflected in the dark window as the vehicle pulled away. He looked like crap. He felt like crap.