Read Online The Sound of Seas by Jeff Rovin, Gillian Anderson - Free Book Online Page A

“Would have waited out there. There is movement all around. I still feel it.”
    â€œWhat kind of movement?” Ben asked.
    In response, Madame waved her hand in a small, circular motion like the Queen of England waving. “I felt Dr. O’Hara open a door.” She jabbed a finger upward. “There.”
    â€œThe roof?” Ben said.
    Madame lowered her hand. “And then, as we crossed the water in a taxi, she opened a larger one. This new door, Dr. O’Hara went through.” She touched her chest with an open palm. “This part of her left us.”
    Anita gasped. “What are you saying?”
    â€œShe is not dead,” Madame Langlois assured her. “She is very much alive.”
    Ben regarded the priestess with a blend of confusion and awe. She knew things—or, more likely, intuited them—that she had not personally experienced.
    â€œMadame Langlois, Enok,” Ben said, “at the risk of pressing you on matters you are unwilling to discuss—”
    â€œExcept leaves,” Anita muttered.
    â€œâ€”have either of you heard the name Galderkhaan?”
    Madame shook her head once. Enok remained still. Ben took that as a no. They did not ask what it was or why Ben was inquiring. It frustrated him that they weren’t curious about anything outside their sphere.
    â€œBen,” Anita said, “before Caitlin’s parents get here, I think we should put these two in a cab and send them back to—”
    Suddenly, as if from a great distance, Ben heard a clacking sound, like dice in a cup. Anita fell silent. It took a moment for Ben to realize that the sounds were coming from Madame Langlois, from around her neck. Mostly concealed by the sweater was a necklace of black beads and hematite tubes. Enok bent over her shoulder and gently pulled the necklace from beneath the white wool. At the bottom of the necklace was a thumbnail-sized human skull artfully carved from what appeared to be polished bone.
    Ben watched with growing disenchantment. The beads were vibrating because the woman was shaking—very slightly at first, as if she were shivering, and then more pronounced. There was nothing mysterious or supernatural about it, or about her.
    She shut her eyes. Ben wanted to ask what was happening but he didn’t think she would answer, or she would respond with one of her riddles, and Enok would remain mute. Ben didn’t understand how Caitlin had survived a full day of being stonewalled like this. He just watched through eyes that burned with exhaustion, with a mind that was struggling to make sense of anything.
    Then Madame Langlois spoke.
    â€œThey seek . . .” she said around the cigar in a raspy whisper, raising her index and middle fingers together. “They . . . seek . . .”
    Anita moved toward the hallway as the madame’s extended fingers turned in that direction. Two long, bony fingers swung around slowly but firmly like the compass on a needle. They were not quaking like the rest of her.
    â€œBen, you have to stop this,” Anita said as the fingers moved closer to the hallway. “Ben?”
    â€œCaitlin pointed like that,” he said. “Let it play out.”
    â€œThere’s a boy here, Ben!”
    Ben heard her but he motioned for her to remain calm. Madame Langlois’s hand seemed to be floating on the air, rotating slightly about the wrist, following the extended fingers. He was suddenly fascinated by her motion: now he recognized absolutely some of the moves Caitlin had executed at the United Nations, when she was making her spiritual journey to Galderkhaan.
    â€œHave you ever seen anything like this?” Ben quietly asked as he sidled up to Anita. “The movement, I mean.”
    â€œWhat? Ben—this is a show !”
    â€œI’m not convinced of that. I’ve seen Caitlin hold her hand like that. And mesmerists. Even Dracula, in