Forever Young The Beginning (87 page)

Ian turned and handed a
package to Tom and Celita. “This grants you and Alandra’s parents
sole authority as co-directors of
Barcelona House
. It is funded by a
trust that I’ve established in perpetuity. This facility is to be
re-named
Alandra Vasquez House
forever. Turning to Alandra’s parents, he
wordlessly embraced them and Alandra’s teenage brother. Then
turning, he walked a few steps to a bench overlooking the grave and
sank down, slumping and gazing with dull eyes upon her grave. The
sounds of weeping mingled with the wind sighing sadly through the
trees.

Young Marc Beaumont moved stealthily
forward with a musket primed and loaded. Patiently he had waited
for a chance to kill the predator that was eating his chickens.
Mornings and evenings were his best chance. It was evening now and
he thought that he had seen a hint of movement in a thicket near
where there was a large pile of stones overgrown with vines down in
a depression choked with brush and undergrowth. He carefully knelt
and steadied the musket; aiming at the last place he’d seen
movement. The light was getting bad, but he held out hope for a
shot at the fox before it got dark.

Suddenly the fox was in the open,
picking its way up the stone pile. He took his shot and hit it. It
looked like a clean hit, but the fox staggered and scrabbled its
way to a hole made by the random arrangement of the stones. The
hole looked too small but the fox instinctively wriggled its way
down into it and lay there as its life’s blood was pumped from its
dying body by its own heart.

He wanted to verify the kill, but the
thought of climbing down into the hole and up the vine covered rock
pile in the failing light wasn’t appealing. In the gathering
darkness, it would be easy to slip and be badly hurt. Satisfied,
young Marc turned away and walked to his home as darkness closed
in. He’d check the stone pile in the morning.

In its lair, the thing heard the loud
report. It had come after the clattering and voices had ceased for
a while. The thing was raised to another level of awareness by the
loud report. It contemplated that and might have slipped down a
level after a time of silence had not something happened next.
Something warm ran across its features and entered its mouth. The
thing raised its level of awareness several degrees at this new
development. This was not just sound. This was touch!

Then something really strange happened
that jarred the composure of the creature. It tasted whatever it
was that had entered its mouth. It seemed to be spiraling slowly
upwards through levels of awareness now as more and more of the
warm slightly salty liquid entered its mouth. It attempted to
swallow the gathering pool, and after much effort, it managed to
swallow it as more trickled in.

It suddenly felt warmth surging
throughout its body then. It pondered what warmth was. Had it ever
known warmth? The upward spiral of ascending levels increased
dramatically, like ascending a never-ending series of staircases
level by level, but at an ever-increasing speed.

The warm liquid continued to trickle
into its mouth and the thing continued to swallow it. As the upward
spiral reached a dizzying rate now the thing swallowed rapidly,
even before more had accumulated. It felt a surge of power
extending to its members as a tingling warmth. It lapped greedily
and its tongue snaked out repeatedly in order that it would get all
of the precious liquid.

It exploded out of the never ending
staircase upward into full consciousness then, opening its eyes to
behold a dark sky filled with stars. It began to flex and move its
muscles and felt their gathering power. Straightening and twisting
alternately as each muscle group came to life, it heard the
clattering sound again. It knew that it was making the sounds now
by pushing rocks aside as it ascended from its lair into the pale
moonlight. Clutching the lifeless body of the fox close it ripped
its head off. Greedily it sucked the last drop of blood and then
began to gnaw at the raw meat. It easily ripped the corpse open and
devoured the blood-rich meat, including the intestines.

Power rippled through its body, and it
felt its strength increasing. It looked at the sky and wondered at
it with its strange tiny cold lights everywhere and one larger one
shining so that the creature could easily make out its
surroundings. Not knowing how hideous and disgusting it looked it
turned its terrible gaze skyward. Hairless, the pallor of death
colored its hide, stretched like mottled parchment over its gaunt
frame. Talons which were gaunt and dirty only added to the
repulsive look of it. Stinking of corruption and of the grave,
nonetheless it didn’t know or care. It was alive and it was
hungry.

***

It had been seven days since her
ability had returned to her. Along with the others, Celeste had
greeted Mustafa as he had arrived that afternoon. As he kissed and
cuddled his son, Mustafa listened with great interest as Liri
related the story to him about Celeste predicting his
arrival.

This was all new to Jennifer. Aimee
and Andre had only heard stories of how Celeste used to be able to
foresee a future event, or to know where a person was or what was
happening to them. They’d all heard testimonies of her ability and
how she’d known the minute that Cosette had perished in the fire
and that Ian had been severely burnt.

Night had fallen and the family was
outside on the front veranda, seated in full view of the majestic
moonlight-bathed Swiss mountains. Thinking about how Alandra and
Ian would be so surprised to hear of the miraculous return of
Celeste’s gift Sophia spoke to everyone. “Won’t Alandra be
surprised? She never knew Celeste when she had the gift. I can
hardly wait to see the look on her face. Let’s not tell her in any
letters. It will be more fun that way!”

Celeste had been walking to and fro on
the veranda, bouncing the baby and laughing with her. Hearing that,
she brightened then and said “Oh that’s a good idea, Sophia. Won’t
it be fun, Aimee? Can’t you just see the surprised look in her big
green eyes now?” She had a bit of a faraway dreamy happy look then
as all of them happily agreed, some nodding their heads in
unison.

Suddenly her face changed and her
countenance fell as she began shaking her head just a little. A
strangling sound escaped her suddenly constricted throat then. She
quickly handed their baby to Louis as she reached blindly for a
chair. As she fell into the chair, the baby began to cry. A sound
then came up from her, a guttural moan, as of an animal in torment,
as she shook her head more and more, even to where her hair was
being violently whipped from side to side. Her doe eyes widened and
opened to where the whites of them shone all around. Her baby cried
louder and louder.

“
NO, NO, NO, NO! My God,
Noooooooo! It cannot be! No, dear God no! She moaned and slumped
down in her chair then, sobbing uncontrollably. The others rushed
to her. The baby kept crying in Louis’ arms. They couldn’t console
her no matter what. Everyone present gathered around her on bended
knee. Marie clutched her, already sensing the worst then, a
stricken look upon her face as she sat next to her hugging and
rocking her. The men stood around in shock, wide-eyed. Celeste
sobbed for an indeterminate time as the others sat with her and
some had begun to weep a bit with her, not yet knowing why. Her
sorrow was so powerful that it seemed to be a physical force that
gripped them all.

She raised her stricken tear-stained
face to the others and said in a trembling voice “Alandra has died!
She is dead! Oh my God! She is dead! Oh my God! Poor Ian! Oh, poor
Ian! Alandra is dead!” The sounds of weeping then increased
dramatically as others joined Celeste in venting their grief. It
didn’t stop, but gathered strength and seemed to take on a life of
its own, as if the mass grief present was a living
thing.

The grandfather clock in the grand
foyer chimed the hour as a cuckoo clock in the kitchen sounded off.
It was as if neither clock cared that grief had descended on this
loving family like a merciless predator.

Ian ran through the Great Pyrenees
Mountains like a flash, tirelessly consuming the miles like they
were nothing. It seemed to help somewhat. He couldn’t bear the
thought of traveling in a coach trapped with his grief. At least
this way, he had an outlet and even though much of his movement was
instinctive, still it required some effort and mental acuity to
perform. He desperately needed that diversion just to cope with the
empty ache inside him, dreading being still, alone and quiet with
his grief. To sit still for even a moment now was a thought that
was unbearable to him. The constant running and leaping and dodging
over and around the endless obstacles in the wild terrain blessedly
occupied at least a portion of his faculties.

As he rocketed along he
reviewed what he’d done before departing from Barcelona. He had
drafted a letter to Roberto telling him of Alandra’s death and of
his near term plans. That one he’d sent to Roberto by bank courier.
He’d also drafted a brief letter to Ricardo and Alicia in Lisbon.
In both letters he had said that likely Mustafa would be their
future contact with
Banque de
Lafayette
. He’d been careful to use
Mustafa’s alias Maurice Garnier. Those two he had sent by two
separate couriers.

He had drafted a letter to his family
in Geneva, and thought again of the words he’d chosen.

My dear family,

I take pen in hand this day
in great sorrow. I regret to tell you that my Alandra is dead,
having died in a runaway carriage accident. She is buried at
Barcelona in her family plot, not far from Philippe’s
grave.

I have signed over complete
control of Barcelona House to Tom and Celita. I renamed it Alandra
Vasquez House. I have given our home there to Tom and Celita and
have left our belongings there. Mustafa (as Maurice) is the
representative named for our banking business in Spain and
Portugal. I have sent letters to those two banks confirming
that.

By the time you read this,
I will have departed from Paris to London. From there I will see my
family and then go to America. I might just as well take this time
of sorrow and turn it to some use for our family and take care of
our banking venture. I will communicate via our code through our
bank network.

All of my love
forever,

Ian

He had written a special letter to
Aimee too, and he reviewed it in his mind as he rocketed through
the wilderness heading north.

Dear Aimee,

Our Alandra is dead. She
died in a carriage accident. The last time she spoke of you; it was
with all of the love that I know you remember. She has passed from
our world to the realm of the angels and now rests in God’s bosom,
surrounded by his eternal love. She lovingly awaits us when our
journey on this earth is done.

I am going to America to
take care of our banking business. I know that you wanted to come
along, but with no one to stay with you while I do this work, that
cannot be. I don’t know how long this thing will take, but you and
I will see America together one day.

Please continue to be as
wonderful and helpful as you always are, sweetheart.

With all of my love to
you,

Ian.

He bounded high, soaring over a deep
craggy canyon made somehow to look even deeper and more forbidding
in the silvery moonlight. Landing in full stride on the far side of
it he vanished from view, running faster than the wind
itself.

***

The thing tested the air with its
sense of smell and attuned itself to the sounds of the night
surrounding it. It let its consciousness expand and trusted its
instincts completely, surrendering to them. Beginning a quest for
food it eventually turned to investigate a sound. The sound came
from an area where there was some kind of dim light. A dog barked.
The thing considered the wind and instinctively circled until the
wind was in its face before creeping toward that source of light.
The dog remained silent. As it crept forward, it became aware of
several intriguing scents mixed on the cool night air. It couldn’t
identify them, but it realized that somehow it knew what they all
were.

As it stealthily closed the gap it
began to get separate whiffs of things that were tantalizing. It
realized that it could feed here and be sated. The sounds that had
been puzzling when they had started to accompany the clattering
while it was in its lair were far clearer now and closer too. It
heard the sounds of livestock farther away in areas closer to the
woodlands that the creature saw surrounding the site. Knowing where
the livestock was meant that it could feed. It didn’t know how it
knew that, but it knew.

Stealthily it crept toward the other
sounds, and approached an opening in a structure that had a warm
yellowish glow of light coming from it. As it crept soundlessly to
the opening, it heard a voice clearly then. Was it the first time
it had heard a voice? It strained its faculties to determine that
and remembered that yes, it had heard voices before it exited its
lair.

It peered into the opening and saw a
young woman holding a tiny creature to her breast and the sound
coming from her had a musical quality in it. She was wearing a
bright red shawl. The creature pondered the sound, wondering at it,
listening raptly as the sound continued. The young woman was making
a curious repetitive movement. She was rocking to and fro as she
emitted the strange sound. The creature wondered at that. The sound
soothed the creature. It puzzled over that and wondered at how it
knew what a soothing sound was. It knew that the object that the
young woman held was an object of great interest to her and was an
object of great affection. The thing wondered how it knew
that.