Finished Chapter Seven
Tonight I finished Chapter Seven, and have both an ePub and PDF available for download. The story is racing toward the finish line and I need to spend a bit more time working on the final details of the plot. It’s a bit too fuzzy for my comfort.
I wrote part of a scene I’m fairly certain I will cut during revision. I’m not entirely sure why I wrote it other than to just pad out my word count. It started snowing in Salem tonight. That doesn’t happen often, maybe every couple of years, so I got distracted and found it hard to write. I did manage my 2,000 words, though I had hoped to be closer to 3,000. I’m not yet at 40,000 words, but I’m close.
Without further ado I bring you the end of Chapter Seven and the beginning of Chapter Eight:
Joe met up with Katarina and Ignatius outside the restaurant. Joe looked up and down the street looking for Mortimer, whom he saw exiting the restaurant mere moments before. There was no sign of Mortimer. Just as Joe was about to ask about Mortimer Ignatius inquired about Joe’s dinner, “You looked like you had yourself a lovely dinner,” he said with a wink and a grin.
“It was alright,” Joe said defensively.
“Just alright?” Ignatius asked with a frown.
“I trust everything worked out okay with Shelly?” Katarina asked with a knowing look.
“Did you know this would happen?” Joe asked.
“Perhaps.”
“You didn’t feel it was prudent to warn me what I was getting myself into?” Joe asked hotly.
“Would you have gone had I told you this would have happened?”
“Probably not,” Joe confessed.
“Now you know why I did not tell you.”
“But why was it important?”
Katarina fixed him with an appraising stare. “Because of what you learned, Joe.”
“What I learned?” Joe said barely hanging onto his self-control. “All I learned is that there is a girl out there who likes to screw with people, and that you could have simply told me.”
“Did you learn nothing else?”
Joe glared at her. “No,” he said with finality.
Katarina sighed in disappointment.
Ignatius interrupted the conversation, “Well you will be happy to know, my boy, that we had a very productive dinner. A very productive dinner indeed. Would you care to hear about it?” He threw an arm around Joe’s should and began walking away from the restaurant, leaving Katarina to catch up.
“You found a way to get rid of this binding and I can go home now?” Joe asked hopefully.
“One step at a time my boy!” Ignatius said encouragingly. “One step at a time. But, yes. I do believe we have an angle on getting you home.”
“I’m all ears,” Joe said devoid of all enthusiasm.
“The Guardian was able to confirm that the gold man was indeed aware of a dozen or so prepared bindings in Salem.”
“A dozen?” Joe exclaimed incredulously.
“Give or take a few. There were some anomalies we could not identify.”
“So, what now? We visit each one until we find the one holding me here?”
“That would be one way of doing it, sure. But I have a hunch we are going to follow up on. If I’m right it’ll point us in the right direction.”
“So where are we going?” Joe asked, hoping it was somewhere close by.
“To church!” Ignatius said enthusiastically.
“To church?” Joe groaned. “Do we have time for all that?”
“It shan’t take but a moment my boy,” Ignatius said encouragingly.
“Last time I asked God for anything He didn’t answer me,” Joe grumbled.
Ignatius laughed. “We aren’t going to church to inquire of The Lord, dear boy. We are going to a church where I believe we will find one of Sikander’s bindings, and hopefully yours.”
Joe visibly brightened.
They walked in silence for half a block when Joe was suddenly struck with a question. “Why a church?” Joe asked.
“Because that’s where the binding is,” Ignatius replied.
“No, I mean, why did Ignatius place a binding in a church? Isn’t that a bit, well odd?”
“Ah I see what you mean,” Ignatius said nodding. “I suppose he did it to mock those inside. Remember he’s trying to set himself up to be God, and what better way to erode at their faith than by using their own buildings against them, and for his own purposes? Plus, who would think to look in a church — a house of righteousness — for something evil?”
Joe looked troubled. “That’s quite a statement to make. Isn’t he worried of reprisals?”
“I think he rather figures that if God exists and cares He would have acted centuries ago.”
“I suppose that makes a certain sort of sense,” Joe said. “But still, that’s playing with fire.”
Ignatius nodded. “I don’t disagree.”
Arriving at the church Ignatius stopped and looked up, then around, searching the exterior of the church. They stood before a magnificent red brick church, complete with steeples, gothic arched windows and doors, and decorative crosses. All that was missing was stained glass windows, but the large flower-like window above the doors more than made up for their absence. It was unapologetically a church, the kind of church one would expect to see in an old black and white movie. The very building commanded respect, and the steeples, topped with crosses, seemed to point toward heaven suggesting man’s attention should be elsewhere. Joe marveled that such a building would be the target of such dastardly schemes. It seemed a crime not only against God, but against man as well, for to mar such an inspiring example of architecture diminished it’s cultural value.
“This is the church?” Joe asked obviously awed.
“Aye,” Ignatius said, distracted by his survey of the building.
“I seems unconscionable to use this building in such a base way,” Joe said.
“’Tis only a building, son,” Ignatius said, still searching.
“Some would argue differently. Sacred architecture has always played some role in society. It has served to inspire righteousness, goodwill, love, and kindness. Not to mention the impact it has on asserting moral authority over a community.”
Ignatius stopped his search and peered at Joe. “I didn’t take you for a believer.”
Joe shrugged. “I’m an art major. I studied architectural forms and religious iconography. You can’t study that without having something rub off on you.”
Ignatius shook his head dismissively and resumed his search.
“Do you believe, Joe?” Katarina asked quietly.
Joe furrowed his brows and thought a moment before answering. “I believe there is probably something out there, though I’m not sure we can know it. I believe that religion has played an important part in civilizing the world, but it has its limits, you know?”
“I see.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Joe added hastily. “I respect religion and churches and all. I think church is great for some people, I just don’t see the relevance in my life.”
“You don’t need God, is that it?”
Joe pondered the point for a bit. “I guess you could put it that way, yeah.”
“I see,” she said, turning her attention to the church.
A shout of “Eureka!” came from around the corner. Joe and Katarina hurried to see what Ignatius had found. He was crouching low to the ground on the corner, his head down to the ground, sniffing the brick. “That sly old dog,” Ignatius was saying. “One day he will get his comeuppance, you mark my words.”
“What did you find?” Katarina asked Joe.
“There is a brick, here in the corner at the ground, that has all the stench of Sikander’s craft imbued in it. I can’t believe he’d stoop so low as to insinuate his contribution is a corner stone,” Ignatius shook his head in disgust.
“You can smell something like that?”
“Aye, if you have the training. Recall that I worked next to the man for many centuries. I’d recognize his handiwork anywhere.”
“So is it the binding? Can I go home now?”
Ignatius shook his head. “I don’t think so. Something’s not quite right about this one. Give me a moment and I’ll be able to give you more information.” Ignatius first leaned down and endeavored to put his ear up against the brick. He sat there for a while, laying on the ground ear to the building in stony silence, as still as if he were a statue. Without warning he pulled hid head back, stuck out his tongue, and licked the brick. He made a ponderous face as he tasted the brick, then sat up and fished a pen knife out of a pocket. Checking to see he was not being observed he pulled out a handkerchief, leaned down, and scrapped a few flecks of brick onto the white cloth. He waded the handkerchief in his fist, closed his eyes and became incredibly still, even to the point of holding his breath. Finally he exhaled and opened his eyes.
“Well?” Joe asked anxiously.
Ignatius took a deep breath and said enthusiastically, “It’s a brick!”
Joe’s faltered. He just stood still staring at Ignatius stunned into silence. Ignatius broke out into deep laughter.
“Ignatius P. Blackmoore!” Katarina scolded him. “That was a cruel joke to play.”
Laughing he apologized, “I am sorry. I couldn’t resist. But oh my you should see your face my boy.”
“Did you find out anything other than the fact it is a brick?” Joe asked through clenched teeth.
“As a matter of fact I did. I have some good news and some bad news I’m afraid.”
“The good news?” Katarina asked.
“The good news is, this is in fact related to an active binding.”
“And what’s the bad news?” Joe growled.
“This is only part of the binding.”
Chapter Eight
“What do you mean this is only part of the binding? I thought the binding was a single object in a single place?” Joe demanded
“Usually, yes,” Ignatius replied. “However that need not always be the case.”
“So you are telling me there are fragments of this binding scattered throughout the city?”
“Probably,” Ignatius conceded. “Sikander wove a very intricate binding here. This is more complex than anything I’ve ever seen before. It would appear that whenever he intended to use this his goal was to keep the someone here indefinitely.”
Joe groaned. “Are we back to the ‘you should really stay in Salem’ speech now?”
“Not at all my boy!” Ignatius said with enthusiasm. “We have something Sikander did not anticipate.”
“What’s that?” Joe asked blandly.
“Me.”
“Is that supposed to fill me with an overwhelming sense of hope?”
Ignatius frowned. “Frankly, yes. I am familiar with Sikander’s craft, and his style. If anyone other than him has a hope to unravel what he has done it will be me. He did not count on this.”
“So now what? Where do you suggest we go next? I presume we are going to hunt down these other locations now?” Joe looked up at the darkening sky.
Ignatius, looking at Katarina, said, “I suggest we try the Mission Mill Museum next. I seem to recall he once talked about a wool mill he was rather fond of, and the Guardian did say there was something there.”
Katarina nodded in agreement. “It’s not far Joe, just a few blocks. One more spot ought to give us a better idea of what we are dealing with here.”
“Point the way,” Joe said resignedly.
The trio set off down the street past the Capitol building, the gold man standing proudly with his back to them, and on past a university. Joe walked in moody silence, all hope of getting home slipping away. He was too absorbed in his own thoughts to appreciate the beauty around him. Trees grew to proud heights, offering shade alternately to university students and state workers. The fact that they walked by the Oregon Supreme Court went completely unnoticed. It wasn’t until Katarina and Ignatius stopped at a park bench that he noticed they were carrying on a conversation about theology.
“Free will is plainly obvious to all and sundry,” Ignatius was saying. “It is not only ludicrous to suggest otherwise but it is downright terrifying to consider that someone else might be ordering our actions and behaviors.”
“We have free will, I readily admit that point, but not in matters of faith. Our eternal outlook is predestined.”
“I’m just not comfortable with that explanation. Even you must admit preachers and evangelists waste their time proclaiming the gospel if the whole thing is preordained. We might as well eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die.”
“Far be it from me to chime in on a debate I am unqualified to even understand, but why have we stopped?” Joe interrupted.
“Welcome to the Mission Mill Museum,” Ignatius said with a grand sweeping gesture.
Joe looked around. The immediate vicinity presented itself as a small park with a creek running through it, and a few trees. Across the lawn stood a complex of wooden buildings painted a rustic red with stark white trim.