The Rings of Hesaurun Read online

  Then it occurred to him; the woman lived more than an hour distant from Erlin. Would relocation be required? Logic told him that he would be forced to abandon his home if he went with her, so he didn’t ask. If escaping Jotham’s brothers meant leaving Erlin behind, he would be forced to go with her.

  “I believe Jotham’s brothers will fight me to avenge the death even if I am judged innocent of bloodguilt by the council. That means I cannot say here after the trial. I will be an easy target here in my own home. Together we will ‘nuke’ our enemies—yes?”

  “Good, I will see you next week then,” Valerie said, standing and rubbing her palms together, pleased with herself.

  “You are leaving?” Ammon asked as he stood with her. “It’s too cold and dark for you to travel. Stay here tonight; I have more blankets,” he offered, genuinely concerned for her safety.

  “It’s alright. I have lodging nearby,” Valerie lied as she continued moving for the door. “I will see you at the inquest,” she promised as she began to pull the door closed behind her.

  “Wait!” Ammon called. “One question before you go.”

  “Alright, what is it?”

  “What do I call you?”

  “Call me Valerie,” she said with a slight smile pulling at her lips, her blue eyes lingering on the man’s chiseled features.

  “Valyri,” he repeated, seemingly pleased.

  “I saw your eyes, they were black, but now they are blue. Why?”

  “Magic,” she said with a coy smile, then pulled the door shut. Ammon was left puzzled, dissatisfied by her response. Had the woman mocked him?

  ________________________

  Valerie shivered in the frosty night air, then pulling the blanket tightly around herself, she ran silently on the cobblestone road. She ran with no specific direction in mind; after all, it didn’t matter which way she went. She merely needed to gain distance from Ammon’s house as quickly as possible.

  The road and stone buildings about her were perceptible only as murky shadows. Stars in the moonless sky provided just enough light to navigate the village streets. The chill stung her lungs, breaths coming as puffs of white mist in the night.

  Good, she thought, panting, I got what I came for, Ammon’s allegiance, and without being noticed. Loved seeing the look on his face when he realized I knew he was watching us. Wonder if he realizes I just saved his life?

  Turning at the first corner, she stopped and held herself against the stone wall, breathing hard. With her senses on high alert, she waited for any sign of being followed.

  Another successful jump, she thought. Things are coming together nicely. We need him. When the time comes, having Ammon on our side will make things a lot more manageable.

  A cautious peek around the corner revealed nothing; the way she had come remained deserted. Nothing moved in the frozen village. No lights were visible, not a sound was heard, even the night air seemed abandoned. The time traveler was nothing more than a shadowy figure on a deserted street.

  When she felt sure she was alone and unobserved, Valerie pulled the fifth ring from inside her inner garment. When it was on her thumb, she imagined herself in her home in the twenty-fourth century. If anyone had witnessed it, they would have said they saw her form glimmer for an instant and then extinguished like a flame blown out by the wind.

  Chapter 9

  Valerie Dunne. June, Present Day.

  Corell Paris waited patiently, answering Valerie’s questions as she took her time moving through the room, inspecting each item, seeing everything, missing nothing. Once she had examined everything, and with her curiosity satisfied, she dropped into the big leather chair across from Corell as if exhausted.

  “I couldn’t find the Ark of the Covenant in your collection,” Valerie joked, “but it is nice to know the Holy Grail is in good hands.”

  They laughed together, then Corell fired back, “Do you want to see it?” He moved to the edge of his chair as if he was about to show it to her.

  “Really?” she asked, taking the bait, excitement in her eyes, tilting the eyeglasses on her nose for a better view.

  “Naw, just kidding,” he admitted, settling back into the chair. Corell was pleased the girl took such a keen interest in the things he considered important, feeling that it boded well for their relationship.

  “Seriously, you have an amazing collection!” Valerie gushed. “I love the paintings and sculptures. When we vacationed in Washington DC, we saw a Gutenberg Bible at the Library of Congress. They are extremely rare, so I was surprised to see you have one. It’s amazing!” she said enthusiastically.

  “I’ve had a while to accumulate these things,” he conceded.

  “There is a question I have meant to ask.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Surely people notice that you don’t age as others do. How do you deal with that?”

  Corell’s gaze detached from her as if she had suddenly pulled the cord on a curtain, allowing him to see into his past, evoking repressed memories long buried. The images of a hundred lives, the faces of a thousand family and friends, flashed before him, driving an invisible spear through his heart.

  Valerie couldn’t help but notice the remorse in his eyes. He looked down. At that moment, she regretted asking and wished she could take it back. Just as quickly as that spear stabbed at his heart, it struck at hers. They shared the pain in a way she couldn’t understand. She saw the accumulation of sorrows amassed by more than a millennium of abandoning loved ones, deserting cherished friends, standing by as they grew old and died. Far more was said in that brief silence than if he had spoken it.

  “Oh my,” she gasped, struggling to make her voice sound normal, readjusting her glasses which had slipped down. “I felt that. It hurt!” she exclaimed, taking a deep breath as tears welled in her eyes. Valerie held her hands to her heart as if trying to protect it from further harm. “I’m so sorry for you, Corell,” she sobbed.

  Corell cleared his throat. “The rings connect us,” he explained. “It is a telepathic bond that will only intensify as you grow closer to me and connect with the rings. The same thing happened to me when I came of age and began feeling my father’s pain. I watched him perish,” he said, a hitch in his voice. “He outlived—he had to desert many families, too. But I was able to stay by his side because I was the heir to the fifth ring. Leaving the people we love behind is by far the most difficult burden we have to bear. I pray you can find a way to deal with it or somehow avoid it.”

  For a moment, Corell glanced at the wall, clenching his jaw, his face a mask of unspoken pain. “This life is something that requires planning ahead,” he said sadly. “I have always kept a back-up identity in a second location. Every fifty to seventy years or so, the time comes for me to move, so I move and assume the next identity. But I think this place will be my last stand.” He smiled, attempting to put a positive spin on what troubled him most in life.

  “What do you mean—last stand?”

  “I mean, I’ve had my time,” Corell admitted with light in his eyes. “You are here; you have arrived—it’s your turn now.”

  Valerie nodded, looking at her hands.

  “When I turn the rings over to you, I will begin aging again at a normal rate. I plan to make this my last home. I’ve had plenty of time to prepare, so I am good with it,” Corell assured.

  Valerie understood the import of everything Corell told her, and it made sense. But what he said about watching his father perish troubled her deeply. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much. Perhaps it was his use of the word perish. Is that what was in store for her, just to watch him perish, to slowly fade away? Had Corell been forced to watch his father suddenly wither and die? What could she expect to happen when Corell turned his ring over to her? Valerie needed to know more.

  “You said you watched Bede perish, which is an odd choice of words. What happened to him?”

  “He um, my father deteriorated quickly—he was gone in about six months.”
Corell shifted uncomfortably in his chair, still grieving for the loss of his father after more than a millennium. After a silent moment, he continued.

  “I expect the same will be true for me,” he admitted, then immediately brightened, slapping Valerie on the knee encouragingly. “The important thing is you are finally here. I’ve waited my entire life for this, so I hope you can appreciate how excited I am.”

  Corell became very serious now. “Valerie— you need to understand you have a lot to learn and no time to spare. We need to get busy, work hard, and get you up to speed so you can reach your full potential. Only then can you defend yourself well enough to seek out the other four rings. That is what this is all about. You need to shut everything else out of your life until you have all five rings. Do you understand?”

  Valerie nodded enthusiastically, showing she was all-in. The excitement was building in both of them.

  “Once you have all five of them in your possession, you will be complete. Eventually, you will be on your own, but until then, I will be there for you,” Corell promised, smiling.

  Valerie stared at the ring on Corell’s hand, coveting it shamelessly, visualizing wearing it and feeling its power for the very first time. She wondered what it would be like, then remembered it had been her ring in another life. Did that matter now? What if something unexpected happened to her when she reclaimed it? Would she become that other person—that other Valerie Dunne? Those disquieting thoughts troubled her but decided she would have to wait and see, so she pushed anxiety aside for now.

  “When do we start?” she muttered, never moving her eyes from the ring.

  “Immediately, we should begin tomorrow, but not here at the farm. We’re going to need privacy for what I have planned for you. We have a safe house near here, so we’ll go there.”

  “I can’t help but wonder how many people know about this—about the ring, I mean.”

  “Other than you, no one here at the farm,” Corell assured her. “A few on the outside, though. It is a wellkept secret. Those who do know about the rings keep their mouths shut for fear of generating their own competition. That and being thought of as being crazy,” he laughed.

  Since she first arrived here, Valerie wondered who knew Corell’s secret. He surrounded himself with so many people, she thought, and yet not one of them was aware of it, not even April? That was hard for her to believe. Perhaps April wasn’t as close to him as she thought.

  How did he hide the truth from so many people for thirteen-hundred years? That could not have been easy. She couldn’t imagine living with the constant fear of being unmasked. But the fact that Corell had anticipated her arrival for centuries was even more sobering. Was it any wonder why he was so excited to see her in the here and now?

  Valerie admired his tenacity and dedication to the cause he had embraced. Suddenly, Correll Paris had become relatable, and he mattered to her. Moreover, he was family: immediate family. But thinking of him that way troubled her. She didn’t want to see him as a grandson or a grandfather, but wasn’t he one of those? What if—he was both? she thought with a sudden shiver. It was all just too weird to think about, so she changed mental gears and asked:

  “How long will we be there?”

  Corell settled back in his chair before answering, making an arch with his fingertips as he worked the schedule out in his mind.

  “I’d say about a week,” he allowed, “more or less, depending on how it goes. It will be just the two of us. We won’t have any help, so we’ll have to do our own cooking and cleaning, that sort of stuff. There’s no food there, so we’re going to need to go shopping. We can go together this afternoon if you would like. Plus, it will give you a chance to look around Jacksonville.”

  “Sure, sounds good,” Valerie agreed.

  “Before we go, there’s one small piece of business we still need to take care of. I need your phone.” Corell then held out his hand, palm up, waiting for the phone to arrive there.

  Without argument, Valerie took her phone from her hip pocket and placed it in his hand.

  “I had time to think about it, and I’m okay with it,” she confessed, then added, “I understand.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you see how important it is to conceal your whereabouts. Your life might depend on it. I hope you haven’t made any calls or texts from here.”

  “The last time I texted was when we were still on the road.”

  “Good girl! Then let’s get going. We’re burning daylight.”

  Corell led the way from his office to the big garage next to the house. Unlike most large outbuildings she had seen back home were either steel or pole buildings; this one was wood-framed and sided to match the house. Concrete walkways surrounded the building giving it a businesslike appearance.

  The garage was dark inside. Valerie realized the building was expansive, bigger than it looked from the outside. The ceiling was high, and the concrete floor polished. The familiar scent of new automobiles mixed with the pungent odor of oil and rubber welcomed her as she stood in the light of the open doorway.

  Corell flipped a switch, and the lights flickered to life. A showy display of strobing neon assaulted her senses all at once. Scores of lighted automobilia signs, antique gas pumps, jukeboxes, and collectibles seemed to jump from the walls, one after another filling the cavernous building in a blissful glow. The multitude of colors reminded her of Christmastime. Closest to the door was a lounge with a bar, couch, chairs, and big screen TV.

  The big garage was home to a massive collection of vehicles ranging from classic cars, trucks, motorcycles, and scooters of every size and shape. Some of them were current models, others antiques. Valerie guessed she saw twenty to thirty vehicles, not including the motorcycles, parked three-deep in places.

  “Follow me,” Corell beckoned as he stepped away and began snaking his way through the maze of vehicles.

  “Since we’re going to the old farm today, we may as well take the old farm truck.” He said it with a wry smile leading her to believe the old farm truck must be something special. Her first guess was that it must be one of the many hot rods, but she was a bit deflated when she saw the well-used, scuffed-up old Ford truck.

  “The old F-1 may be ugly, but it makes up for it by being uncomfortable and noisy,” Corell joked as he swung the door open and jumped in. Once Valerie was seated, she began searching for a seatbelt. “Don’t worry,” he said, “these old trucks didn’t come with seatbelts. They weren’t required back in the day. They didn’t have power steering or air conditioning either, so roll down the window and enjoy the ride. It’s a beautiful day.”

  Corell pushed a button on a garage door opener clipped to the sun visor. He turned the key, but nothing happened. Then to Valerie’s surprise, he pushed a button on the floor with his foot, and the old truck fired to life with a cough as the garage door rolled up. Valerie stifled a giggle as he stirred the gearbox a couple of times, then the truck surged into motion with a grinding jerk that threw her head back. Soon the old pickup was rattling downhill toward Jacksonville, along the Applegate River.

  “Jacksonville is about a twenty-minute drive because the road is pretty windy,” Corell confessed over the rumble of the exhaust and whine of the manual transmission.

  “Roll down the window,” Corell encouraged, “you don’t want to miss the scenery.”

  The spring day was warm, the sky clear, with the spicy scent of madrone and pine present. Late morning sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees producing a strobe effect as they rolled along the winding road beside the little river. As they rounded a bend, they passed a clearing with a small park where people were picnicking and swimming in the shallow water.

  Mesmerizing, Valerie thought. Corell was right. The beauty of the little river canyon is hypnotic, made all the better by the clunky old truck, and riding with an elbow sticking out the window. I can’t recall seeing such a beautiful place! The winding two-lane road prevented the truck or any vehicle from moving very fast, which
suited her just fine. She could see why Corell chose the old road.

  As the truck entered Jacksonville, she found the historic downtown had a late nineteenth-century Wild West feel. The overall architecture was a mixture of brick facades, clapboard-sided buildings, and wood plank sidewalks. Trendy shops and restaurants lined the main roads. Business was good that warm Sunday afternoon as tourists clogged the streets and shops.

  The first stop was a supermarket where they shopped for groceries, stocking up with enough supplies to last for a week. From there, they went to the Big Y Sporting Goods store, which puzzled Valerie.

  “Sporting goods? What do we need here?” she asked.

  “Ammunition,” he answered.

  “Seriously? You have enough weapons and ammunition on your property to re-fight World War II and win. What do you need more ammunition for?”

  “Specifically? We’re here for arrows and bowling balls,” Corell stated with a cocked eyebrow as he left the truck.

  The absurdity of it froze Valerie in her tracks. Confronting Corell with hands on her hips she exclaimed, “Let me get this straight. We’re shopping for bowling balls and arrows, right? What are we going to do, practice fighting off invading Mongols from the castle walls?”

  Corell stood his ground, crossed his arms, and locked his gaze defiantly on hers. A staring match ensued, which quickly became a contest of wills between two stubborn would-be bowling ball and arrow shoppers.

  Evidently, taking one’s eyes away from the other contestant was off-limits. With neither participant willing to look away or blink, the staring bout became a prolonged test of wills. With her eyes fastened on his, the young girl stepped one pace closer to the man in a classic attempt at distraction. However, the move backfired miserably when the man countered her move by making one giant step forward, bringing them face-toface and nose-to-nose. Desperate and out of options, the battle of wills that took place in the parking lot of the Big Y Sporting Goods store came to a draw when, with steely eyes, the girl whispered, “That’s as messed up as a left-handed football bat.”