Read Online The Everlasting by Tim Lebbon - Free Book Online Page B

again.
Getting control back
, he thought.
I’m fighting it down, the madness
. Things calmed but the panic grew, expanding to fill the spaces left in his perception. He called for Helen again and again, looking around the dark garden, seeing only fleeting shadows where the ghosts had been. The falling silence was as shocking as what had come before.
How can any of us believe in such solitude?
he thought.
    And then the silence was complete, and it shocked him so much that he could no longer shout.
    He lay on the lawn, spread-eagled like a dead man and staring at the sky. Stars were out, and wisps of cloud passed across the face of the moon. The ghosts surrounded him, though they could no longer be seen.
    â€œHelen,” he said. He stood unsteadily and ran into the house, searching all the downstairs rooms before running upstairs, dashing through their bedrooms, the bathroom, looking in cupboards and under the beds, the attic, tearing a wardrobe door from its hinges in his eagerness to search inside, but he did not find Helen anywhere. He whispered her name, as though repeating it could bring her back, and when that failed he searched the entire house again.
    The Chord of Souls
, Lewis had said as he retreated into the Wide.
    â€œI don’t know where it is!” he shouted, and his voice startled him to a standstill once again. Panting, gasping for air, he sat on the edge of their bed and started to weep.
    A few minutes later he read Papa’s letter again. And he began to understand.

CHAPTER THREE
a time beyond belief
    When Scott walked downstairs and into his study, there was a woman behind his desk. Even with her sitting down he could tell that she was tall. She was also attractive, though not beautiful. No face like that could ever be beautiful. It had seen far too much of life.
    Standing in the doorway, looking at the woman and forming his first impression of her, he realized that he was not surprised, shocked, or scared.
    â€œWe’ve been waiting for you for a very long time,” she said.
    â€œHe took my wife.”
    The woman nodded slowly. There was an easy grace about her movements, and when she stood from the chair she seemed to flow. She moved like a piece of classical music. She was dark skinned, her hair was long and tied with several metal bands, andthere was a brutal mess of pink scars across the right side of her throat. It looked very old.
    â€œShe’s at great risk,” she said, “but I can help you get her back.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œYou need to help me.”
    Scott nodded. He looked down at the drawer and its broken lock, and the woman inclined her head, offering a brief smile with one corner of her mouth.
    â€œI apologize for your desk.”
    â€œYou were looking for this?” He held up the folded letter, ready to flee if she made any movement toward him.
    â€œI’ll read it soon, but I already know what it is. I watched through the window. I saw him, and you, and both of you in the Wide.”
    â€œWho are you?”
    That smile again, a brief twitch of the lip. Everything about her was subtle and elegant. “I don’t suppose you have any real coffee?”
    It felt dreamlike standing in the kitchen with this strange woman, brewing coffee as dawn smudged the shadows and his wife farther away from him than ever before. Scott tapped the spoon against a mug, hummed an unknown tune, looked up at the woman where she sat watching him from the breakfast bar. Her hands were steepled beneath her chin. Her eyes were timeless.
    â€œSugar?”
    â€œNo, thanks. No milk, either. Pure.”
    Scott poured two coffees and added milk and several heaped teaspoons of sugar to his own. He was shaking and weak. Perhaps a sugar rush would help.
    â€œHow do I get Helen back?”
    â€œDo what he said: find the Chord of Souls.”
    â€œWho are you?”
    The woman took a sip of her boiling coffee and closed her eyes, luxuriating in the flavor.