Seal of Solomon (Journeyman Book 2) (11 page)

He supposed barbarous medicine wasn’t too heartless after all, but did wonder why the Journeymen had not come to collect him, nor any demons pay him a visit to finish the job that behemoth that ate his arm started.

A knock came.

“Yes?” he said loudly so they could hear through the heavy wood door.

With a subtle click of the latch it opened inward, bumping gently against the doorstop. His nurse, Colette, was the first to enter, bearing a smile as usual. She was followed closely by a devilishly attractive man with a neat beard, carrying a briefcase and a woman whose nose was curled as if she smelled something vile. Unless she was averse to the sterile odor of bleach, Henry assumed she was just stuck up. Both were dressed in formal attire, freshly pressed.

“Hello there, Henry,” Colette said softly. “Seems that you have some visitors this morning. At last.” She waited for him to show some signs of happiness, but none came.

Instead, he glanced to each of his supposed guests in turn, studying their expressions for any chinks in a carefully crafted façade. He couldn’t find any, the duo remaining fairly professional in their posture. He waited a few more uncomfortably long seconds before answering, just in case either of them blinked and showed themselves for who they really were. “It seems so, though I have to say it’s a surprise” he said at last. “To whom do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”

The woman turned to Colette. “May we have some privacy?” she asked, a Scottish accent peeking through the words.

“Yes, of course,” she answered, glancing to Henry before retreating. “Lunch will be up within an hour, sir, but please let me know if you need anything beforehand. You know where to reach me.”

“Thank you my dear, I will,” Henry said as the door shut and the room went quiet. “So back to you two. Who are you
really
?”

The man set down his briefcase on one of the guest chairs and they both strode up confidently to each side of his bed, looking down at him, defenseless. Henry’s heart leapt into his throat, expecting to soon be staring into the blackest eyes imaginable.

“Mr. Abington,” said the man with voice as pacifying as a massage. “My name is Nathaniel Cole and this here is Jody McNeal.”

“A pleasure,” she replied in a surprisingly friendly tone, though her nose was still turned up.

Henry was confused and suspicious, yet without any weapons or other means of defense he continued to play nice. “Apparently I am at a great loss, as your names don’t ring a bell.”

“They shouldn’t, as we’ve never met,” Jody said matter-of-factly, leaning in toward him. “However, we do work for someone that should ring a few.”

“We’re with the Journeymen, Henry,” Nathaniel stated.

Henry grew angry, sad, and thankful all at once, his expression no doubt as mangled as his emotions. “The Journeymen?” he repeated. “Why now… and good gods where have you all been this entire time I’ve been wasting away in here?”

“We’ve been close, protecting you,” Jody revealed, pulling an absurdly long knife out from her suit jacket.

“That must’ve been a bit… painful to keep in there,” Henry observed, grimacing while rubbing on his chest.

Jody laughed as she tucked it back inside. “It's an enchanted pocket, good for a lot of things with sharp edges.” She turned away and walked to the window, looking out on the Thames. “It seems that you being found at Grimsargh instead of in the belly of an ogre didn’t make the Noctis all too happy. I don't know about you personally, but I like it when they aren’t happy.”

“It does help keep the skills honed,” Nathaniel added, lifting a hand. Strange symbols glowed around it, forming a circle of lights and sigils before bursting into a fireball.

“Ah, finally,” Henry said with relief. “Some magic!”

“Indeed. I like magic much better than bullets these days. Back to the situation, it’s amazing how many demons they’ve sent to try and finish you off. ” Nathaniel surveyed Henry, touching a hand to his forearm. Henry jerked it back. “No worries sir, I can also relate to injuries and missing limbs quite well.” A swirling symbol appeared and a faint blue pulse encased Henry's entire arm. It invigorated him, healing up any dangling ailments before fading away. “What, at least a dozen, maybe more Jody? The Council didn’t want to disturb your recovery, or risk bringing you to headquarters early for fear that some unknown demon magic may be in play and give everything away, so they had us set a perimeter around St. Thomas to ensure your safety. Until the time came.”

Henry wasn’t thrilled at the notion of just being left alone to get better, though whatever Nathaniel had done really felt good. The Order protecting him from harm during his recuperation wasn’t overlooked either.

“Wait, what did you say Nate? Until the time came for what?”

“Nathaniel,” he corrected before moving back to his briefcase. “Well Henry, we are about to go on a trip.” He turned it on its side, tiny arrows on the hasp pointing, up and opened it. Reaching into a pocket on the upper side, he pulled out a palm sized sphere, no bigger than an apple. It was soft and jelly like, undulating with each touch of its shiny, veined surface.

“Where are we going? And what is that thing?” Henry asked vehemently.

Jody stepped over to the briefcase and set it on the floor while Nathaniel moved over to the bed, getting to work removing the IVs and monitors from Henry and shoving them straight into the gooey ball.

“My you're full of questions.” She bent forward and helped him sit upright.

“Asking questions is the basis of obtaining knowledge,” he rebutted once stationary.

She was impressed. “Who said that?”

“I just did.”

She chuckled. “Firstly, that is a biosphere, a relatively new invention by the Order. It’s been tuned to your essence using some of the medical data that's been collected and should allow us to escape without setting off any of the monitors. Second, we’re taking you to see the Council, well at least part of the way there to Heathrow; others will relieve us at that time. Now that you’re well, they’ve requested your presence to discuss matters pertaining to the Noctis: what you saw, what you heard. All of it.”

“Well then, we best be off,” Henry replied, feeling of value.

“Here, let me help you up,” Jody said, bringing Henry up onto his wobbly feet. “You okay? All lower extremities still functioning?”

“Now, now, we don’t know each other that well,” Henry said in jest. He was the only one laughing as Jody rolled her eyes.

“So now what?” Henry asked, looking around for his suit or even a robe to drape over the drafty hospital gown. There was nothing. “Unless you have an invisibility cloak or wards tucked away in that pocket of yours my dear, I don’t think we will all be getting out of here unseen.”

“Invisibility like that would be detectable with spectral vision,” Nathaniel stated, “cloaks or wards, so unfortunately there's only one way you'll be getting out of here until we reach the car.”

“Well?” Henry demanded. “What is it?”

Both Nathaniel and Jody pointed together at the open briefcase sitting innocently on the floor.

“You have got to be joking?” Henry asked while his mouth hung open. “Never in all my years…”

“Times like this make for a lot of firsts. You’ll find a fresh change of clothes inside,” she said, coming up to cinch the back of his gown. “Good thing I’m not a werewolf, else I’d be shifting right about now.”

Henry gave her a curt smile and wobbled over to the edge of the case and glanced down. A ladder plunged from one edge into a dark chasm. Whispering, he said, “I really thought I was about to like you two. Not as confident in that assessment right now.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine and I promise to be gentle,” Nathaniel said smoothly, punctuated with an enormous wink. His voice really could charm the pants right off of anything.

“So I gather you’ve ridden in a briefcase before? I thought not. But, I’ve been through a damn sight worse I think,” Henry said, giving his stub a wave. “Here goes nothing. A little help dear?”

“Sure thing.” Jody helped him onto the ladder and with his first few steps down into the darkness. “Seems like you have it.”

“I guess so,” came his voice from the dark, echoing as if in a massive cave. Then came a loud
crash
. “What the hell else do you have down here?”

“Probably best if you don’t know, Henry,” Nathaniel said awkwardly. It was a good thing he couldn't actually feel the intense waves of hatred wafting up from inside the case. “Are you settled in down there? We’re about head out. Barring any trouble, it should be less than ten minutes and we’ll be in the car.”

“I am,” Henry confirmed and Nathaniel closed the case, shutting out all the light inside.

“Time to go Jody,” said Nathaniel, donning his pair of designer sunglasses. “After you.”

Jody led the way, calm and collected, as she exited the hospital room. Nathaniel was close behind, giving the room a final look over. As he turned to leave, the end of the briefcase swung out and smashed against the closest chair.

“Are you drunk you buffoon?” Henry’s voice boomed from inside.

“Oops… sorry,” Nathaniel replied as he closed the door gently behind him.

THE TRIP OVER TO
New York had been long and incredibly bumpy, especially en route to Heathrow thanks to Nathaniel and his not-so-gentle handling of the case, plus his special ability to find every pothole in England when driving. Henry would bet serious money that a brain trauma diagnosis was inevitable, probably waiting for the most inopportune time down the road to be revealed.

The go-betweens he had met inside the airport also took the flight over, watching over him from the aisle seats of the rows just ahead and behind. Their names were Austin and Gabrielle, Journeymen based in New York though often working cases in the more rural parts of the state. Both of them were very nice, personalities way more mature than others in their early twenties – no doubt from the hardcore realities they faced every day being part of the Order.

They had only just left to investigate a possible poltergeist in an old wharf off the Hudson, leaving Henry at last standing outside the corrugated metal door on 50
th
. Dressed in business casual with a tan sports jacket over his shoulders, he said the password. The guardsman sprang to life and peeled away from the metal and once it had cleared its bulky mass from the portal, Henry stepped on through. He instantly arrived a mile away in the entrance hall of Journeymen headquarters. It was as pristine as when he first saw it so many years ago, yet so much busier than he remembered.

“Ah, welcome Mr. Abington,” greeted the doorman as the portal closed behind them. He was an elderly gentleman, the scars over his face indicating a long history of battle before retiring himself to less deadly duties. “You must’ve had an exhausting trip here,” he continued. “Unfortunately, rest will have to wait until after the meeting – the Council has already convened and are awaiting you upstairs. We are expecting Mr. Sheridan to come and collect you, so might I have one of the staff bring you something while we wait? It shouldn’t be but a few minutes at most.”

“Well if I am totally honest,” Henry answered, stepping closer to the man and dropping his voice to a whisper. “I would murder for a draught of healing potion right now. My joints are on fire, my legs pounding, and the itching, especially on this side, is a fright.” He waved around his nub from under the jacket.

The doorman chuckled heartily, leaning in as well. “If I may be equally as honest, I have similar issues myself and partake of a tincture a time or two a day. Here, take a sip.” Reaching inside his blazer, he produced a small silver flask no larger than a wallet. He unscrewed the cap and held it out for Henry to take. “It’s my own concoction, quite safe. I honed it over the years teaching about herbs and potions to the new recruits. In any case, you should only need a nip, as there’s water up in the council chamber for you as well.”

Henry grabbed the flask and brought it to his nose, taking a quick sniff. The aroma of almonds with subtle notes of fresh cherries danced in his nostrils as he took a satisfying sip. The liquid was surprisingly chilly, colder than the flask. Just the right amount of sweetness felt soothing as it passed down his throat and then seemed to extend out into his veins. A warmness like a bath then washed over him and his well-being improved ten fold. Amazed, he reluctantly handed the flask back to the doorman.

“That was absolutely divine,” he said thankfully. “Sell that stuff and I'll be a regular customer.”

The doorman nodded and smiled as he hid the flask back in his pocket. “Ah Mr. Sheridan, you’ve come!”

Henry turned and spotted a fellow quickly approaching him. He was dressed in a distinctive brown turn-of-the-century suit and had a fair bit of a beard going on, peppered lightly with gray amongst the light brown. The collection of piercings in his ears and nose betrayed his high level position within the Order and the timeless look he was after, but as Henry would soon find out: Marcus was not one to be mired in formalities.

“Hello, Henry?” Marcus asked, extending a hand to shake. “Am I right?”