The Diviner's Tale by Bradford Morrow Read Free Book Online Page A

proposed I continue the sedative for a time at a higher dosage, and they sanctioned it, innocent of its contraindications. Nep harbored doubts but didn't have enough magic within his powers to propose a different course of action. I recall thinking that
halcyon
was such a beautiful sound for a word, even though its first syllable bears the worst of all possible images while the other carries so much promise.
Hell. See yon.
On the one hand,
see hell yonder?
On the other,
see beyond hell.
It was a drug I used for about a year to retreat for a few hours from my waking life.
    I never threw out any leftovers from the pharmacopoeia that was prescribed to me over the years, and, of all things, having dug through my pillboxes looking for some light sedative before sitting outside with my thoughts, I discovered a few powder-blue Halcions from the bad old days. I weighed them in my palm and marveled at the lengths to which Nep and my poor mother had gone, back when I was not so much older than the girl I saw that morning at Henderson's, to help me step away from the unhappy world of forevisions. This Halcion was just one of the many means they were forced to explore in the quest of driving my monster away. They loved me dearly, I knew, but I couldn't have been the easiest daughter to raise. I dropped the pills into the toilet, along with all the rest of the old cache, and flushed. If I was fated to go through a dark phase again, I was going to do it on my own, no doctors, no drugs, no fake halcyons.
    I was tired, couldn't feel the cold anymore. Couldn't see the girl anymore. And I couldn't hear their questions. The moon and stars gave off a generous nocturnal calm. I sank into myself, blessedly thoughtless, and, after a while, driven inside by my cold feet and fingers, I shut the window and lifted the needle off the clicking, spiraling groove of the vinyl disc which was all played out. Before I went upstairs to face my pillow, I stood in the dark with a hand on the newel post. Stood there quite some time listening, all but asleep on my feet. Everything was silent, tranquil. No voices from the past, nor any mirages. The boys hushed and untroubled in their rooms down the hall from mine. Not a mouse moving in the wall. A dense, serene stillness. I climbed the stairs, fumbled off my clothes, crawled into bed. I doubt I dreamed, although I, like Nep now in his different manner, wouldn't remember one way or the other next morning.

5
    H ENDERSON HAD PAID a hefty freight for the four hundred unlevel acres of wooded and snaking ridges whose jagged cliffs looked like teeth biting down on the valley bowl below, but he sure didn't know much of anything about what he purchased. Niles was able to ascertain that with one call to the phone number I gave him at the station. His only concern was whether he himself was in any kind of legal trouble and, more to the point, if his development had to be curtailed.
    â€” Not if you haven't done anything wrong, Niles said.
    â€” Of course not.
    â€” Well, then there's nothing for you to worry about.
    He was given the story in abstract terms, Niles offering him the sketchiest possible version as a way of protecting me from criticism, while at the same time seeing if Henderson knew anything that might shed light on my encounter. Long shot, but he thought it was worth a try. He told Henderson that while doing the work he had contracted me to do, I discovered something unusual on the property. No, there was no need to discuss specifics as it appeared that the matter was nothing more than one of mistaken identity. Still, if he had a moment to answer just a couple questions? Whatever was needed, he was only too happy to cooperate. Niles asked Henderson, had he been out to the acreage recently? He hadn't. Had he granted permission for anyone besides the surveyors and Ms. Brooks to be on his land? He had not. Never authorized anyone else to go out there to hike, hunt, maybe camp? No.
    Henderson evidently