The Shadow of Eons

Chapter 23

He and Agatha started their way back toward the palace. They passed numerous exhibits of exotic plants, as well as many little grottos and carefully-arranged waterfalls, which they gazed upon with awe. Despite the altercation he had gotten himself into, Jonas thought it was a worthwhile investment taking the entire day to explore the mysteries of the garden.

Apart from the many ladies who walked about the grounds, chatting in their twos and threes, there were several clusters of children sitting about and playing games. Jonas and his daughter were passing one such group when Agatha tugged on his arm and asked if she could join in. Jonas agreed, and they made plans to remeet at the evening meal. Jonas was left alone, hounded by his growing dread of the hour when he and his wife would meet again. The fear loomed over his every step as he made his way back to the apartment to rest for the scant hours he had left before the fatal moment.

He was passing by the numerous gold-plated doors on either side of the hall when he came across the man. He was dressed in black robes and had on a black doublet, and was leading three children down the hall towards Jonas, talking to them as they went. Something about this nagged at his mind, for there was something strikingly familiar about the scene that he couldn't quite place.

The man was scarcely talking above a whisper, so Jonas had to approach closer to get a fix on his words: "Yes, my friends," the man was saying. "I will take care of you. You do not need your parents, now that you have me. I am your friend. Everything is okay. I will play with you. Just relax."

The children trailed behind him slowly, their eyes fluttering, as if they were having difficulty staying awake. None of them seemed to notice Jonas as he walked past them, which made him feel even stranger, for children were normally supremely curious of their surroundings. It was then that Jonas saw that there was something in the air—the air was shining. It was sparkling with a silver color, in the area between the children and their caretaker. Jonas halted his steps and squinted, trying to get a closer look.

He reversed direction and headed back towards the man and his charges. He soon overtook them, but still they took no notice of his presence. "Excuse me?" Jonas proffered loudly. He speeded his steps until he stood directly opposite the caretaker.

The man in the black robes abruptly came to a stop, his faces inches from Jonas's. He had several days growth on him and his breath smelled like rotten meat. The man also had a greenish tinge to his skin, which Jonas assumed to be a result of some sickness. He glared at Jonas, breathing in his face with soft snorts as his eyes burned holes through Jonas's own. "What are you doing in my way?" he said, gnashing his teeth as if he'd like to tear the man opposite him to bits with the tips of his molars.

Jonas in fact had no idea what he was doing in the man's way; he had simply followed a gut feeling. So he improvised: "My good sieur, I was just wondering about your fine children," he said, acting graciously despite the man's obnoxious manner. "I had heard that there was a nursery on the palace grounds, and I was wondering if these youngsters are frequent attendees."

"What, do you have a child?" The man's eyes widened in interest. "Perhaps they could set up a time to play with my own. After all, my children are very. . . sociable."

"It certainly looks like it," Jonas agreed, although to him it looked only like the children needed a long rest. He peered over the man's shoulder at their small faces, and it was then that he had a better look at the silvery substance in the air: it was in fact a trail of sparkling matter, which extended from the childrens' eyes and winded until it came to the black-robed man's mouth. The man seemed to be inhaling this vapor in, which made him appear as if he was smoking a pipe.

"I am Merryweather Smith," he said, extending a hand, which Jonas took and squeezed amiably. The man's hand was cool and clammy to the touch, like an eel fresh out of water. Jonas relaxed his hand, and then had a glimpse of the man's arm, which he promptly pulled back into his black robes. There was something very odd about that arm, something which screamed danger at Jonas: besides of course being green like the rest of the man, it also had ridges and valleys occurring in a peculiar formation—scales. There was no doubt now in Jonas's mind that this man was a hayoren.