Authors: Raymond Feist
Faerie Tale (57 page)
Mark took a drink as his headache lessened. For a moment he felt a strange itch, as if trying to remember something, then, frustrated at his inability to remember, he shoved aside the irritation. “No, still a lot of blind alleys. I think I may just have to give up on finding out anything about what the hell was going on in Germany when Kessler’s dad left.” His face split into a grin. “I did come across a really strange little document in”—his face clouded as he fought to remember something, then it was gone again—“Köln. I know this is going to sound too wild for belief, but it looks like the genuine article. I think I may be able to prove Atlantis
was
Crete during the Mycenaean era. So as soon as Gary and I close down our house—assuming Ellen doesn’t keep him from coming with me—we’re off to the Mediterranean.”
Ellen, who had been sitting silently, said, “No, a working honeymoon’s fine, as long as it’s on a Mediterranean island!”
Gloria said, “Tell us about it!”
Outside, the man called Wycheck sat motionless as he listened to the faint words carried through the open window. In his car and the other occupied by his brethren, low chanting could be heard as ancient arts were used. Satisfied everything was as it should be, he signaled the other car to move out. Then he motioned for his driver to follow, while he rolled up the window. Slowly, almost silently, the car edged up the driveway and turned out onto the road.
December
Patrick and Sean trudged through the woods on their way home from school as a light snow fell to melt upon the ground. It was their last day. The Christmas break was beginning, but they wouldn’t be coming back. Their father had sold the house to a strange man and they were moving back to California. Their parents had flown west for two weeks in November, then returned with the news they had found a wonderful house in some town called Carpinteria. It was near Santa Barbara, Gabbie had said. Their dad would stay in L.A. during the week while he worked on his new movie, but would drive home for the weekends.
Jack had to do something about selling Aggie’s house, which would take time, the boys’ parents had told them. Gabbie and Jack would stay at Aggie’s until Jack finished something called a defense, then they would sell the house and come to California, where they’d get married. The boys were delighted to learn that Gabbie’s horse, Bumper, would be stabled at the new house until Gabbie and Jack found a home, for the Hastingses’ new place had a barn, and Gabbie said they could ride him if they didn’t try anything fancy, like jumping fences. Besides, their mother had hinted they might get horses of their own for Christmas.
The boys crossed the Troll Bridge without an instant’s hesitation. All dread was gone, all illusion vanished. In seven months’ time they had gone from having normal childhood fears to having survived a terrifying reality. Now they found no menace in the dark and felt no discomfort at confronting the unknown. They had lived through an experience that had changed their children’s expectations of what the world held, and were both wiser and sadder for that change. Their school friends seemed
somehow less worthy of their time, as if they were preoccupied with trivialities. Still, they found much to divert their thoughts from the events of the last seven months.
Sean took the lead as they approached their home. Since their ordeal on Halloween, Patrick no longer dominated his brother. They now treated each other as equals. Patrick knew his survival had depended on Sean, but Sean never made a point of that fact. They were closer than ever before.
Bad Luck knew it was time for school to be out and ran to meet them, while their mother stood patiently on the stoop waiting for the boys, the smell of hot cookies carried on the cold winter air. They both glanced at the top of the steps for a moment, almost expecting to see Ernie lying there in a sunny spot, exhibiting a tomcat’s certainty that all is well. Had he lived, he would be oblivious to the organized confusion around him. The movers would arrive the next day, and the family was off to New York for a long weekend. Gloria and the boys would see the sights while Phil talked to his publisher on Monday, before the Christmas dead time in publishing. Then they’d be heading to their new home, in time to have Christmas with Grandma O’Brien in Glendale. The boys looked forward to that.
Sean lingered near the sunny spot and Patrick nodded understanding. A local farmer had shot a raccoon the morning after Halloween, and the destruction of dogs and cats, ducks and chickens, had halted. But both boys knew how Ernie had died. They wondered why everyone else seemed to have forgotten what had happened. Sean fingered his fairy stone, the one Barney had given him, and thought perhaps that was the reason the twins could still remember. Patrick fingered the one he wore, found after days of searching the creek bed. In silence, he nodded:
Yes, I think that’s why.
From the steps of their home—home for so short a time—they both looked back as one. The barn, the shed, the trees, all had become known to them, the alien quality they had first experienced upon arrival gone, replaced by a comfortable, familiar feeling. Now they would be
leaving this place behind to move to a new one, to begin again adjusting to new surroundings, new friends, new experiences. Regarding the woods beyond the barn, they silently remembered their encounter with another race in another world. They exchanged an unspoken question.
Will we ever see them again?
Then they remembered those last words, uttered by Ariel or, somehow, by the Fool:
Who can know what fate may allow another day?
Without an answer, the boys mounted the steps. Sean followed Patrick, but glanced back, feeling a sudden chill. For a moment he couldn’t tell if he felt eyes watching from the woods or if it was simply his imagination. And he couldn’t be certain if it was simply the wind rustling the branches, or if the sounds of faint, boyish laughter hung for an instant on the air. Pushing aside the momentary disquiet, he turned and entered the warm kitchen.
If we shadows have offended.
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d here,
While these visions did appear.
Shakespeare,
A Midsummer Night’s
Dream
Act V, Scene i
R
AYMOND
E. F
EIST
is the
New York Times
bestselling author of six other novels:
Magician: Apprentice, Magician: Master, Silverthorn, A Darkness at Sethanon, Prince of the Blood
, and
The King’s Buccaneer.
He has collaborated on three novels with Janny Wurts,
Daughter of the Empire, Servant of the Empire
and
Mistress of the Empire.
He lives with his wife in San Diego, California.
SPECTRA
and the portrayal of a boxed “s” are trademarks of Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc.
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©1988 by Raymond Elias Feist.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 87-10113.
eISBN: 978-0-307-48454-3
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, New York, New York.
v3.0_r1