An Enemy Reborn by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781614754503
Google: iellAQAACAAJ
Amazon: 1614754500
Publisher: WordFire Press
Published: 2017-02-23T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-two

In his decision the night before that he would sneak around the manor house and see what he could uncover to explain his uneasiness with Spiriastar, Len had envisioned himself alone, stealthily moving through the place. He could recall playing James Bond games with other kids in the neighborhood as he was growing up, and this was his chance to live it all out. It might just be a dream, but I can have fun with it, too.

Unfortunately for him, Jhesti and Fitz had decided he could not be trusted alone. “You can stand there with your hands on your hips and a pout on your lips for as long as you want, Len, but we’re coming with you.” Jhesti, having grown to that awkward action-figure height somewhere between a toy soldier and a prom date for Harlequin Barbie, stood on Fitz’s back, aping Len’s stance. “Your sense of direction isn’t that good …”

“My sense of direction is fine.”

“Sure, then you explain why you’re so far away from San Rafael.”

Len started to reply, then stopped. He glowered at the plastic man. “Keep this up, and I’m going to stick you on a car dashboard on a sunny day.”

“Save the idle threats until we’re somewhere they’ve heard of an internal-combustion engine.” In an eyeblink Jhesti threw his arms wide. “This place is set up to entrance and defeat a visually oriented creature like you. I don’t have your sort of eyes, and Fitz here relies on other senses to get around. We can get you back here, and that should be something you want with what you and Shoth were planning.”

“Okay, okay, you win.” Len shook his head. “Where do you think we should start?”

“As deep as we can get. Any secrets to be found here will be buried fast and deep, I think.”

Len used his pouch’s leather strap to secure it to Fitz’s back. “Let’s get going, then.”

The fitting stool strode confidently through the manor house as if it had always been part of the furnishings. Though he did not feel inclined to admit it, Len knew he would have been lost in a matter of minutes had he been on his own. Corridors and stairwells looked very much the same, and even though he tried to count his paces and remember the turns, little treasures revealed in alcoves kept breaking his concentration. To make matters worse, he could feel vibrations from the shifting of blocks and, every so often, could identify a new feature, like the disc with walkways arching high into the sky.

Even if I had graph paper and a global-positioning-system receiver, I’d be lost. He thought a moment about how the journey might be a clue from his subconscious about how he could recover from the dream, but dismissed that idea. Every time I’ve thought that previously, I just move from one puzzle to another. If there are clues here, I don’t think they’re going to have to do with my return to consciousness.

The journey through

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