The Dragon's Tooth by N. D. Wilson Read Free Book Online

man straightened his suit. “If both are present, only one needs to declare; the other can offer assent. Are you sure you want both included? You have the right to name two, but I can see definite benefits in selecting only one.”
    “Both,” Skelton said. “They’ll need each other.”
    “Who are you?” Antigone asked the little man. “What are we talking about?”
    Cyrus slipped back to the door and held up the small card. “It’s in another language,” he said.
    Antigone took the card from him and squinted at the printed letters. “No, it’s not. ‘Please declare aloud …’ What is this?”
    The little man stepped forward. “Excuse me, miss,” he said. “If you don’t mind, the Latin is actually preferable in the current situation. We’re going above and beyond.”
    He plucked the card from Antigone’s hands, flipped it over, and returned it.
    “Pronunciation isn’t important. Do your best.”
    Stepping back, he tucked his thumbs into his vest and waited.
    Antigone stared at the words in front of her. “Are you serious? What is this supposed to be? I’m not saying it.” She handed the card back to Cyrus.
    Cyrus looked into the tired eyes of William Skelton.
    “You really want us to read this?” he asked. The keys were heavier in his mind than in his pocket. Antigone didn’t need to know that he was keeping them. Not yet.
    The old man nodded.
    “Okay,” Cyrus said. “I’ll read it if you answer our questions.”
    After a moment, the old man nodded again.
    Cyrus handed his stack of clothes to Antigone. “How do you know Mrs. Eldridge?”
    “We were schoolgirls together.”
    “Funny,” Antigone said. “Har, har.”
    “It’s close enough to the truth,” said Skelton. “Met as kids. Hated each other since.”
    Cyrus swallowed. For some reason, his throat was tightening. He didn’t really care about Mrs. Eldridge. “How did you know our parents?”
    William Skelton sighed. “For a while, I was their teacher. For a while, I was their friend. I met them before they married. Helped them through some tough times. Made some tough times tougher.” His eyes dropped to the carpet.
    “And?” Antigone asked. “What happened?”
    The little man coughed loudly.
    Skelton nodded. “It’s late,” he said. “You can hear the whole story tomorrow.” He pointed a tattooed finger at the card. “Do an old man a favor and read the paper. Soon enough, I won’t be keeping any secrets.”
    Cyrus and Antigone looked at each other. Antigone nodded. Cyrus cleared his throat, raised his eyebrows, and began to read: “Obsecro ut sequentia recites …”
    Pausing, he glanced up. William Skelton was staring at the ceiling.
    Horace, the little man, was pursing his lips expectantly. “Go on.”
    At first, Cyrus read slowly, stumbling and tripping as his tongue attempted to string the odd syllables together. But after two lines, his voice found a rhythm, and he could almost believe that he understood his own strange chanting. He smeared words, blended, missed, and guessed at words, but he got through it, and when he did, he held the card out to the little suited man.
    “Keep it with you,” the man said. “Miss Smith, do you offer assent?”
    “Um, sure,” said Antigone. “I guess.”
    Hunching over the bed, the man checked his watch and made a note of the time on a large piece of paper. Then he signed the bottom with a flourish. “Billy Bones, that’s all I need. Know that I am risking a great deal for you.” He scraped all the papers into a pile, and then he shoveled the pile into an enormous leather folder. When he had finished, he shook hands with Billy, shook hands with Cyrus, bowed to Antigone, then picked a bowler hat up off the wreckage of Cyrus’s shelves and popped it on his head. “Good luck and good night to you all,” he said. And leaning to one side, he lugged the enormous folder out into the night.
    Billy Bones slumped onto the end of the bed and put his head in his