Summon the Keeper by Tanya Huff

Author:Tanya Huff [Huff, Tanya]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fantasy, General, Fiction, Fantastic fiction, Contemporary, Bed and breakfast accommodations, Cats, Cats - Fiction
ISBN: 9780886777845
Publisher: Daw Books
Published: 1998-05-01T12:49:15+00:00

The locksmith pulled bushy brows down toward his nose. "Did you say something?"

"No."

"Thought I heard… Never mind. You know, you don't have to stay with me. I can just come down when I finish up."

"Like I said," Claire told him, keeping the glamour centered over the actual contents of the room, "we're not that busy."

"Oh, I get it. Lonely, eh? I know how you feel; some days when I don't leave the shop, I'm ready to climb the walls by four, four-thirty. No one to talk to, you know? What was that?" He leaned around the door, staring at the floor by the curtained window, then settled back on his heels, shaking his head. "It sorta looked like a bright blue mouse."

'Trick of the shadows," Claire said tightly. It figured that the locksmith would see the imp when neither Dean nor Austin ever had.

A few moments later, his weight on the newly installed doorknob, the locksmith heaved himself to his feet and flicked the open flange with his free hand.

"Quite the secondary locking system. I guess you can't be too careful about this kind of thing, eh? I mean, one tourist wanders in here, hurts himself on a bit of loose board and the next thing you know, you're being sued."

Peering through the glamour, Claire checked that Aunt Sara remained undisturbed by all the banging. "If a tourist wandered in here, being sued would be the least of my concerns. But you needn't worry, this is only a temporary measure."

"So you are going to fix it?"

"Sooner or later."

"Hopefully sooner, eh?" He pulled the door closed and nodded with satisfaction as the lock clicked into place. "When the time comes, and you need some help, don't forget my cousin."

Claire had a vision of the locksmith and his cousin facing down the hordes of Hell. It was strangely comforting.

The ink soaked out of the site journal had turned the onions blue. The brine had been absorbed and the whole thing smelled like pickled sewage. With a cheese sauce.

When Claire opened the plastic container, Austin left the building.

Breathing shallowly through her mouth, she used a fork to tease apart the pages. The process had been partially successful. The few pages of Augustus Smythe's notes now legible made it clear he knew an incredible number of dirty limericks but offered no other useful information.

The first four pages after his summoning remained stuck together in a glutinous blue mass.

"One more week should do it," Claire sniffed at Dean, peeling another three onions and dropping them into fresh brine.

"Great," Dean gasped. He snuck a look at the card.

Aunt Claire, Keeper Your Accident is my Opportunity (face it, life stinks)

Later, he threw out the fork.

"This is the sixth morning in a row she's come out of that wardrobe looking wiped. Two days ago, she fell asleep in that old armchair up in room six, and yesterday she didn't have enough energy to take the chains off the furnace room door."

Austin lifted his head off his paws and gazed across the dining room at Claire, who'd fallen asleep with her cheek on an egg salad sandwich.

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