3

Jack called ahead to see if Lyle and Charlie Kenton were entertaining any clients at the moment. Nope. Didn’t he remember that Monday was their day of rest? No séances scheduled until midafternoon Tuesday.

So he grabbed the empty sea chest from his apartment and drove out to Menelaus Manor in Astoria. He wished he could have brought the Lilitongue along too, but since that was fixed in its spot, and since Charlie couldn’t leave his house, the chest would have to do.

He parked in front of the attached garage. Hadn’t been back since the summer. With its dark stone walls and vaguely colonial design, the house could look menacing at night. But in the wan light from an overcast sky, it looked merely old.

Lyle met him at the door and, after making nice-nice with the handshake and small talk and why-don’t-you-ever-come-to-visit preliminaries, they settled in the high-ceilinged channeling room on the first floor.

The array of spiritualist and New Age junk displayed around the room among the statues of everything from Christian saints to Hindu gods brought back memories, not all of them pleasant. The heavy drapes, usually drawn tight, had been pulled back to let in some light.

Lyle, tall, lean, black, maybe thirty, wore his hair in long, tight dreads. He was dressed in jeans and a V-neck sweater. He led Jack to the large round oak table at the far end. Lyle seated himself at the twelve-o’clock spot, directly in front of a chalk-smeared blackboard; Jack took the three-o’clock position.

Letters began to form in the chalk dust on the board, one at a time, as if written by an invisible finger.

“Hi, Charlie.”

The skeptic in Jack reflexively recoiled at the idea of communicating with a dead man—after all, Lyle had been an expert at faking that very thing—but his experiences in Menelaus Manor this past summer had opened his eyes. And now Lyle seemed used to, even comfortable with, being in touch with his dead brother.

He seemed to be listening, then he said, “He wants to know why you brought that chest.”

“Well, my brother Tom and I—”

“—found it in a shipwreck off Bermuda. He knows. He wants to know why you brought it here.”

“I need to know something, anything about what was in it. It’s called—”

“—the Lilitongue of Gefreda.”

“Right.” This was good—very good. Looked like he was finally going to get some answers. “I need to know what it does—if anything.”

Lyle didn’t answer. Jack couldn’t tell if he was waiting or listening. Finally…

“Charlie doesn’t know. He says it comes from a different place and age when the rules were different.”

Oh, shit. “The Otherness?”

“He doesn’t know. He can’t be sure.”

“Can he at least tell me if it’s harmful?”

“He says that’s relative. If you want to escape your troubles, it will help you do that. But in a case like Vicky’s, it’s harmful.”

Jack stiffened. “You know about Vicky?”

Lyle nodded. “Charlie does.”

“Harmful how?”

“She’ll be taken away from everyone she knows and loves, and will never return.”

Jack felt his gut freeze.

“Taken where?”

“Charlie doesn’t know.”

“Is that what’s going to happen to her?”

Charlie could see the future at times—at least he thought he could.

“She’d have to be here in person for him to tell you that, but even then… this Lilitongue is so unique, so alien… he’s not sure he’d know.”

Vicky… oh, God, Vicky… what am I going to do?

Giving in to a sudden, irresistible urge to move, he sprang to his feet and paced the room. The air felt thick, he couldn’t seem to draw enough of it into his lungs, his fingertips tingled. He’d never felt it before but he had a pretty good idea what was happening.

Panic.

“Goddamn it, Charlie, there’s gotta be something I can do!”

“There is,” Lyle said. “Find The Compendium of Srem.”

Jack halted his pacing. “I’ve heard of that.”

That was the book Herta had told him about, the one Dr. Buhmann had alluded to. But Herta hadn’t been talking about the Lilitongue of Gefreda.

The Compendium of Srem…

“That’s got the answers?”

“Charlie doesn’t know. He can’t pierce its covers.”

Then what good is he? Jack wanted to say, but bit it back.

“Well, maybe I can. Just tell me where the damn thing is and—”

“Charlie says you already know. In fact, you’ve seen it.”

Jack stared at Lyle, blinking in confusion. What the—?

And then he realized what Charlie meant.