Chapter 15: Enlarging the Circle
El called Lavinia as soon as Peter left for the mausoleum. She'd prepared her script in advance and rehearsed her counter-arguments if Lavinia raised any objections. But when El suggested a meeting, Lavinia appeared genuinely pleased. She even invited El to join her for morning tea. An omen for a fresh start in their relationship? Talmadge's personality was radically different from the little she'd seen of Phineas. Was the image Lavinia projected something similar? A mask she used to conceal her true nature? Perhaps now she'd be easier to get along with.
El's Monday morning was clear since she'd worked on Saturday. On the spur of the moment, she decided to bake a peace offering for the formidable alien. The scones were still warm when she knocked on the massive oak door of Lavinia's office.
What a change from a few days ago! Lavinia was gracious as she invited her inside. Her change in attitude made El realize how their lives had been transformed.
"These are for you," El said, giving her the basket. "I baked you a batch of lemon-rosemary scones. I hope you like them."
"Very kind of you, Elizabeth." Lavinia invited her to sit at the table while she brought out the tea service.
El breathed in the scents of sandalwood and cardamom in the air. It reminded her of a market she and Peter had visited in Morocco. She took a moment to gaze up in the rafters, but, as she expected, no golden eyes were to be seen. Peter had explained about the chittaks living in Lavinia's turret. She longed to see them for herself.
But this morning's focus was on Neal, and El quickly brought the conversation around to her concern.
"Did the leopard Sornoth do something to him that we're unaware of? I've examined him thoroughly and can't find anything wrong, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything."
Lavinia poured her a cup of tea. "I share your concern. The Ymar may have placed a tracer in Neal enabling them to track his location. Another possibility is that they injected him with a substance to make him less resistant."
"Do you have any way to check?"
"Our knowledge of the Ymar is quite limited. I'm not familiar with any tests that we could run. On our home base, we have scientists who have specialized in what best may be described as chemistry. I've already consulted with one of them about Neal and Thaddeus. Are you willing to give me a sample of Neal's blood? I could ask her to run tests on it."
El promised to bring her a sample that afternoon. "Before Neal traveled to Leng, I'd run an MRI on him. He admitted afterward that he'd felt a malevolent presence in the chamber with him. You warned him not to have any more MRI scans. Is there something about magnetic fields that the Ymar can sense?"
Lavinia didn't say anything for a moment as she nibbled on one of the scones. She absently brushed something off her shoulder, although El didn't see anything there. "You bring up an intriguing point. Each of us has a unique magnetic resonance that creates a distinct harmony. Melody may be the better word. The interpretation of magnetic resonances is a diagnostic tool employed by our physicians. When Neal was in the MRI, his resonance was distorted and amplified. Azathoth might have been able to sense him."
"Could I be trained in the technique?" When Lavinia hesitated, El rushed to continue. "I'm Neal's physician, but my skills are insufficient. I know nothing of Meropian or Celaenian physiognomy. You say his abilities will increase with time. Perhaps he will also experience medical issues. You admit he's a unique hybrid."
Lavinia pursed her lips in silence for a moment then nodded. "I too have felt woefully inadequate to address his needs."
El was surprised to hear Lavinia be so open. The shell Lavinia presented to others was likely a coat of armor designed to shield her from a world she knew little about and felt ill-equipped to cope with. El suddenly had much more sympathy for her.
"I'll need to consult with the council," Lavinia said. "We've never shared our medical knowledge with any other species, but Neal's unique status may well provide enough justification—what's wrong?" she asked sharply. "Are you feeling unwell?"
Bewildered, El felt her mouth drop open. "Your scone just rose off your plate and disappeared!"
Lavinia broke into an infectious laugh. It made El chuckle as well. "That was Ch'orri, one of my chittaks. He finds your scones delicious, as do I."
"I wish I could see him!"
"Perhaps someday you will."
#
Neal paced in his tiny office on the top floor of Wingate Hall. Sara was due to arrive. He'd spent the past several minutes gathering his thoughts. About his heritage. About the Ymar. How would Sara respond to the revelations?
She needed to have a chance to decide if she wanted to be included in their future activities. Lavinia and Talmadge gave him that option. She should have it as well. He knew he could trust her to keep his secrets safe, no matter what she decided.
When Sara knocked on the door, he suddenly found himself tongue-tied. This would be a lot easier to do if his feelings had calmed down, but just looking at her gave him a warm feeling he hadn't experienced since Kate. Fortunately Sara was never shy about getting the conversation started.
She waved a bag in front of him. "I stopped off to get us coffee." She handed him a cup. "Did you find out about your parents?"
He popped the lid and breathed in the aroma of hazelnut coffee. "You were right. The man who owned the cottage in Providence—Francis Chaseman—was my grandfather, Andrew Phelan. I must have been that little boy the neighbor saw."
"Did they know what happened to your mother?"
"She'd already passed away. She was killed by a ghast a few months earlier."
"I'm so sorry, Neal."
When he saw the sympathy in Sara's eyes, the wound opened up again. He was grateful to have the coffee to sip while he steeled himself to get through the rest. "I already suspected she was no longer alive."
"But you couldn't have known about the ghast."
He shrugged acknowledgment. "It wasn't just her. Ghasts also killed Andrew." He explained the circumstances, trying to keep it low-key. The amulet hadn't saved them. He'd managed to survive ghast attacks so far, and the wormhole in Arkham was now sealed, but the cult was still out there.
"You haven't mentioned your father. Did you discover who he was?"
"Would you believe Montgomery Clift?"
She stared at him. After hearing about the horrors inflicted on his family, she must have thought he'd gone over the edge. "Is this a way of coping? Dreaming about who we'd like our parents to be?"
He shook his head. "No, but in a way, that's what my mom did." As Sara gazed at him in shock, he told her about Zophar and the agreement they'd made. Once she knew about the Meropian, telling her about Andrew's visit to Celaeno and how he'd been genetically altered was not so difficult.
"My mind keeps going back to my mom, and what kind of life she must have had. She was living with her dad in hiding. Did she attend college under an alias? She might not have been allowed to date much if at all. Then having sex with someone she didn't love . . . She was only twenty-one at the time."
Sara considered for a moment. "I'm trying to picture how I would have felt. I think I would have been thrilled and honored at Zophar's offer."
"You would?"
She nodded slowly. "He gave her an amazing gift—the chance to do something impacting Earth's future. I think the way it was done was beautiful. He allowed her to live out a fantasy." She reached over for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Her life must have been a lonely one. Those years you and she had together were the happiest of her life, I know that."
Neal hoped she was right. Clearing his throat, he said, "You're my cold case expert. We can now update our files on Laban, Zophar, Andrew, and Melina. We don't know the details but we know who the murderers were. That's major progress."
"How I wish I could interrogate the librarian on Celaeno!"
"You and me both. When Zophar returned to Celaeno and found that the crystal manuscript had been stolen, the library was in ruins and there was no trace of the librarian."
"We don't know for sure that everything escaped the destruction. How much time did Zophar take to comb through the wreckage? Is there any way we could visit the ruins?"
We? That didn't sound like someone who wanted to distance herself from him. Neal's heart lifted even as he felt he should push her away to keep her safe. "Peter made the same point as we drove back to the university this morning, but that route's closed to us. The librarian had given instructions to have the planet sealed off if the Ymar ever penetrated its defenses."
Sara's eyes widened. "That's possible?"
Neal nodded. "The Meropians were given a fail-safe device to use. But that doesn't mean we don't have any resources to draw upon. The librarian told Zophar that several times in the past, Celaenians had visited Earth. On a few occasions, they'd left behind devices and instructions for future generations. I guess you could call them a type of insurance policy. At the time they shed their corporeal forms, they believed the Ymar could no longer enter our galaxy. But they couldn't be one hundred percent certain. They left samples of their DNA to be used by the librarian at its discretion so that others would be able to access the materials."
"And now that DNA's in you." Her face grew troubled. "You've been abducted twice. How are we going to keep you safe?"
There was that we again. Although her use of it was keeping his warm glow alive, he was wary of the thought behind it. Mozzie and he had discussed it at length last night. Given his family history, the group could go overboard in their efforts to keep him safe, and that would increase the danger to themselves. That was the last thing he wanted. Show no fear was his new motto. Mozzie had pointed the way. If he appeared more confident, the others wouldn't stress as much. And if he didn't actually feel it, he could fake it.
"The ghasts will have a tough time messing with me." He patted his amulet through his shirt.
"But that amulet won't help off-world," she pointed out.
"I'm still here, aren't I? The priest could have killed me on Leng, but he didn't. Same thing with Sornoth. The inescapable conclusion is that they want me alive." Well, maybe a bit of a stretch, but Sara seemed to be responding well to his new cocky image. "We can use that. And in the meantime, Peter's archaeologist fingers are itching to uncover traces of those earlier civilizations. If we can unearth their sites, we may discover ways to defeat them. We already have one of the devices the Celaenians left—the armillary sphere. We're meeting tonight to discuss it. Would you like to come?"
Her face lit up. "You couldn't keep me away!"
He glanced at the clock on his desk. "We have time for an early supper before our meeting."
"And now you can read my mind. Your telepathic abilities must be increasing at quantum speed." She paused, her eyes crinkling mischievously. "Can you wiggle your nose and teleport us there instantly?"
He gave her the full force of his extraterrestrial glare. "I may have alien blood, but I'm not a witch."
She leaned forward and gazed deep into his eyes, causing the room temperature to increase by several degrees. "Are you sure? Samantha in Bewitched could be your cousin. We should ask Lavinia."
"You do that. Make sure I'm around to hear what she says." Neal glanced down at his right palm then lifted his hand. Pointing his fingers at the bookcase, he twisted his face into a look of intense concentration.
"What are you doing?"
He exhaled noisily. "I was sure I could blast thunderbolts from my fingers."
She laughed. "Give it time! Sunday was the first day you could read Celaenian. You may need an extra day for thunderbolts." She gasped, her eyes widening.
"What?"
"Will you be able to shapeshift?" She traced an invisible line in the air with her index finger. "I can see it now. Neal Carter, linguistics professor and Miskatonic's resident shapeshifter."
He grinned. "I think I'd like that. Who should I shapeshift into?"
"Hmm." She studied him for a moment. "Batman? No, this calls for Superman. Then you could fly! I'll be your Lois Lane, only I'll be far more capable."
"You realize you may not be able to publish anything for years, maybe decades."
"Then I'll tweak the accounts and write science fiction," she countered promptly.
As Neal retrieved her coat from the row of hooks next to the door, she asked, "Should we pick up June on our way to the meeting?"
"No need. She and Cyrus are having dinner together."
Sara turned to beam at him. "A promising sign! Can we call them a couple? Our first matchmaking success?"
"So far so good, although I don't think we can claim much credit."
"That shows why you need me on the team. Your logic is skewed. If it weren't for algolnium, June and Cyrus might never have met. I'm not sure what I did to help, but I'm convinced I played a pivotal role."
As they walked downstairs, he asked her about their other matchmaking effort. Sara had promised to speak with Diana about Jack. Was there a future for the coffeehouse owner with the police detective?
She stopped short and made a face. "It slipped my mind to tell you. I'm afraid there's a complication. Diana's not interested in men. I've already told Jack and he's taking it well. He said it helps to know that it wasn't anything specific against him."