The Clock Winked (The Sagittan Chronicles Book 2) (7 page)

“Strange decorators in this place,” Salve said.

The waitress set Bronwyn’s coffee on the table, winked at
Salve, and walked away.

“Why did she wink?” Bronwyn asked.

“I’m a long-time customer, and she thinks you’re cute,”
Salve replied. “Anyway, first question: how long have you known that you’re related
to the great and mysterious Bronwyn Rae of the old legend of the Clock?”

“For about a year,” Bronwyn said, reaching out for the salt
shaker. She began to move it back and forth from one hand to the other. “My
aunt kept it a secret until I found out one day in school when I was reading in
the rare books collection about the legend.”

“You’ve never seen your birth certificate?”

“No. I’ve never needed to,” she said. “How old do you think
I am?”

“I think I’ll ask the questions,” Salve said, grinning.
“Wouldn’t want to dig myself into any holes, thanks.
So,
you’re working at
Oliphant, booksellers
?”

“No, not really.
I was just helping
out for the day you came in,” she answered. “I wouldn’t mind working there, of
course, but I think I would get in trouble.”

“Your family is rather influential,” Salve stated. “I could
see it being a status issue.”

“And my aunt is very keen that I should not learn anything
about the legend, although I don’t know why.”

“Have you come across any relics or interesting facts about
your family since you learned who you were?”

“Just one that I know of.
The only
thing I learned—quite by accident actually—I learned when I heard my aunt and
Butler discussing some changes they wanted to make to the house. There is this
great big, ginormous, old, wooden desk in the study upstairs at my house. I’m
not allowed in the study, of course, so I’ve only seen it a couple of times
when I sneaked in, but I heard my aunt and Butler saying that it was really old
and that it had been in this same house for quite a number of generations.
Butler wanted to move it, but Aunt Llewellyn said no to that idea.” Bronwyn
took a sip of her coffee. “Are you seriously writing all this down?”

“I sure am,” Salve said, glancing up from his notebook. He
smiled. “So did you learn anything interesting about Auvek while you were
working with him? You like him?”

“Yeah, he seems really down-to-earth and straightforward. I
think he’ll do a lot of good for that store. His uncle is a bit of a drunk and
a nutcase. I probably wouldn’t buy books if he were the person I had to look at
when I walked in the door.” She glanced at Salve’s notebook and laughed. “Oh!
Don’t write that down!”

Salve chuckled. “What kind of changes does he want to make?”

“Oh, just cleaning and sorting and sifting the valuable
stuff out of the less valuable stuff. I mean, book collecting is a hobby for
the wealthy, so he could potentially make quite a lot if he markets it right.
He should use that monkey as a mascot.”

“Monkey?”

“Ooops.
I think Simon is a secret.”
Bronwyn took a sip of her coffee.

“Actually, there are quite a number of reports of a monkey
being seen in the shop. He was a well-known presence several Oliphants
previously, but he hasn’t been seen for centuries, and most people thought he had
died. Monkeys don’t live that long, you know.”

“Simon is a robot monkey.” Bronwyn shrugged. “He’s very
sweet and he’s helping Auvek straighten out the business. But please, please
don’t say anything. I promised him I wouldn’t tell.”

“You know you shouldn’t tell
a reporter
things
you don’t want other people to know,” Salve scolded gently.
“Especially when it involves robot monkeys!
But, okay. I
like you, so I’ll keep it to myself until it becomes public knowledge, or until
I get permission from Auvek to tell everyone about it. What kind of monkey is
he?”

“A Vervet monkey,” Bronwyn replied. “From Earth, I guess. I
don’t know much about Earth.”

“I don’t either, except that it’s supposed to be a model for
cultural development and shorter lifespans. There hasn’t been much news out
about it lately, though. So, tell me, since you don’t know much about your
family history—who are you hiding from?”

“Just Butler.
Aunt Llewellyn has
him follow me all the time, probably to make sure I don’t learn anything about
the legend. It’s very irritating. I give him the slip a couple of times a week,
and I’m quite good at it—I just have a friend who trades places with me.” She
smiled a little. “But if he caught on, I wouldn’t want him to catch me. Or if
my double happened to walk by, I wouldn’t want him to notice me—you know, he
thinks he’s following and then—surprise! I’m sitting in a coffee shop window
and twenty five paces in front of him at the same time!”

Salve let out a hearty laugh. “That is a very good point. I
won’t give that secret away either, so you needn’t
worry
.
Anything else you have to say? What would you like most in the world?”

“I would like to meet my parents. I don’t know anything
about them. I haven’t seen pictures or heard stories, and my aunt won’t even
tell me their names! I don’t even know if they’re alive or dead. I go back and
forth between really wanting them to be alive, but feeling that if they were
alive they would have come to find me already.”

She shrugged, a tiny smile playing across her lips.

Salve nodded. “That’s rough. My parents split up when I was
in high school, and then my mom died and my dad went insane. Now I’m telling
stories because I don’t know what else to do.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m researching the Clock—I haven’t got
anything else to do either.”

Salve scooted his chair back from the table. “Coffee’s on
me,” he said. “I have another appointment in fifteen minutes, so I have to
scoot. But I’d love to get together sometime just to chat, if you can sneak
away from that pesky old Butler of yours.” He smiled.

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Bronwyn smiled back, and watched him
as he strolled confidently into the light. She glanced at her watch. There was
still plenty of time left in the day. She stood and headed towards the bookshop.

*****

Auvek rose at dawn and began to clean. The shop needed a lot
of work; dust covered every available surface and torn pages of books peeked
out of many nooks and crannies. Auvek assumed that many interesting things lay
hidden among the heaps of literature that filled every crack and corner of the
building. Simon was extremely helpful, pulling things down from top shelves,
dusting everything he touched, and providing helpful tips about how to arrange
shelves and furniture. He also surprised Auvek by being able to identify the
loose pages that lay strewn about, even when there was no title or author
listed in the text.

At about seven in the morning, Auvek heard a banging on the
front door. The little bell made a quiet ding; it sounded a bit like a baby
bird learning how to sing.

He made his way to the front of the building and saw a man
peering through the glass. Blue stripes draped over his face, appearing at the
top of his bald head and running down onto his cheeks, but carefully avoiding
his eyes and brows. Auvek had only seen a few individuals of this race before,
but he at least knew that the stripes were part of the gentleman’s skin
pigment. He looked towards the gentleman’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed!” Auvek said loudly.

“I look for William Oliphant,” the man said in a strange
accent.
“He in this store?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Auvek replied, unlocking the door to speak
with the stranger. “He’s not here right now.”

“I old family friend.
My name
Charles,” the man replied, looking around. “This shop much clean. Looking very…
we say, quaint.”

“Well, thank you,” Auvek said. “Is there some way I can help
you?”

“Out of town I was many years. Want to say hello.”

“Okay,” Auvek replied. “Why don’t you come in for a moment?”
He stepped back to let the man in the shop. “I don’t know which William you’re
looking for but the thirty-third and the thirty-fourth are in jail. I can pass
along a message to the younger of the two, though.” He forced his eyes to look
around the shop, trying not to stare at the man’s bald and exquisite scalp.

“You own now?”

“Oh no!”
Auvek exclaimed, looking
up again. “I’m just helping out.”

“It nice that your window not broke.
Many others here broke.”

“Yeah, there was a security alarm malfunction a couple days
ago,” Auvek replied, smiling. Charles seemed like a nice man. “We were lucky.”

The man leaned towards Auvek and glanced around. “Monkey
here now?
He safe?”

Auvek glanced out the window, and shifted uncomfortably.

“That monkey is just a legend of the shop,” he said. “People
say that there used to be a monkey that helped one of the William Oliphants
run
his shop. It read to children and fixed old books and
things. There isn’t really a monkey.”

“Oh!” the man laughed. “William play joke with old Charles.
He say monkey real!” He moved over to a shelf to stroke the bindings of the
books with a very long and elegant finger.

“No, it’s gone,” Auvek replied, nervously glancing towards
the door.

“Thank you much,” the man replied. “I leave you now. No need
leave message. Only want see shop. Good day, young boy.” He smiled and strode
out the door, leaving only a ringing bell in his wake.

Auvek looked around, but Simon was nowhere to be seen. “Well
that’s a relief,” he muttered, shrugging. “Time to go out back and beat some
rugs, I guess.”

*****

As they ascended the stairs, Samson’s phone began to
vibrate. He glanced at it for a moment. The number was restricted. It could be
anyone—and possibly someone quite important. Maybe Stryker had escaped from his
captor.

“Excuse me, Chair, I am receiving a rather important call,”
Samson said politely. He reached out and opened a conveniently located door.
The room was plain but boasted several comfortable-looking chairs.
“If you could please wait in here?
I will be just a moment.”

Samson delicately closed the door behind him and strode down
the hall.

“Hello?”

“Hey, brother,” replied the voice on the other end.

“What do you want?” Samson scowled. “I’m busy!”

“I know. We all know. You’re so important, entertaining the
Administrative Chair of Pomegranate City. I should be proud.”

“You should be,” replied Samson. He was quite irritated.

“Well, I’m not.”

“What do you want?” Samson repeated.

“I just wanted to let you know how nicely my plan is
progressing. What progress have you made?” His brother laughed cynically.
“None, I imagine. You never did seem to be able to accomplish anything.”

“Oh, shut the hell up.” Samson scowled. “If you have
something to say, say it. Otherwise, I have important work I need to be doing.”

“Fine.
It’ll all happen.
Soon.
Revenge, their deaths, and the Door
closing.
Everything.
I thought you might like a
little time to get your affairs in order. But you won’t win. I have every
detail figured out. Right down to the little monkey. Don’t bring a parade,
bring a casket, Samson.” He laughed.

Samson hung up.

“Bastard,” he muttered under his breath, and turned.

“Who was that, gone and flipped your hat?” Misty stood right
behind him, her pencil poised in mid-air over her notebook.

“Oh, just a prank call,” Samson replied, smiling.
“Somebody’s got my number—I need to get a new one. Let’s continue with the
tour, now shall we?”

*****

William Oliphant,
bookseller’s
was closed when Bronwyn arrived. She pulled on the front door but it wouldn’t
open.

“Closed,” said a gentleman standing just down the street. He
had a shiny bald head; blue stripes marked his face like a strange birthmark.
“I just speak to boy.”

“That’s okay,” she said, trying not to stare. “Auvek is a
friend of mine. I’ll try around back.”

“Auvek?
The young boy is
accountant?” asked the man. Bronwyn found his strange accent distracting.

“His family members are accountants,” she replied, glancing
toward the window, looking for a sign of him. “But he’s running the bookstore
for right now. His uncle is in jail.”

“You know him long time,” the man stated.

“No, only a few days,” Bronwyn smiled.

“Spend much time here,” he added.

“When I can,” she replied, taking a few steps towards the
side of the building.

“I old family friend,” the man said. “Is long time since I
see
here.
”

“That’s nice.” Bronwyn inched towards the building, trying
not to be rude. “He’s waiting for me. I should go. Have a nice day now.”

“Also you,” he answered before striding down the street away
from her.

At the end of the alley that ran between the bookstore and
Mr. Yofstek’s Slumgum, Auvek stood in the small courtyard behind the shop with
a broom and six rugs tied up to a clothesline.

“Auvek!” she yelled over the sound of the broom thwacking
against the rugs. Clouds of dust blossomed into the air. Auvek turned.

“Oh hey!” he said. “You’re back! Come see all the work I’ve
done inside.”

He leaned the broom against the wall and pulled open the
back door, leading her into the shop.

“This is just the back hallway.” Boxes and boxes of books
were stacked against the walls—brown cardboard boxes, plastic crates, wooden
crates, and even giant kegs were filled with books. “I’m still sorting
everything.”

He pulled open a door. Two couches sat against the wall in
one corner. A low table squatted between them. The rest of the room contained
bookcases, all built from the beautiful red dokomaya wood from the Eastern
Shores of the Casiopus Sea.