I may be a lot of things, but I’m not without a moral code.
Lives depend on us getting this right.
Dr. Samuel Hunt sheepishly ambles in with his shabby faux leather briefcase and unkempt beard, arriving several minutes late. The corner of the library we commandeered is lit by table lamps and skylights. Even with the dimmer lighting, I can seethe irritation clearly on Soren’s face. JJ is paging through a comic, too busy to notice the lapse in time.
“Fellows, sorry about my tardiness. A clasp came undone on my-” He flaps his arm, and the briefcase comes dangerously close to sailing away or popping open again. I catch it for him and snap it shut firmly. “Well, I had a few papers to hunt down.”
This is the guy who’s supposed to shed light onanythingfor us?
Soren clears his throat and asks as he rubs his eyebrow. “You’re Dr. Fraine’s old classmate?”
They couldn’t be less similar.
Fraine is dignified, the definition of competence. Hunt looks hastily put together, tentative, a caricature of an academic. The messy clothes, overgrown facial hair, and cheap attire almost make me laugh.
We settle in as he spreads out his notes, photographs of paintings and sculptures, and a map marked with circles in various colors all over the world.
JJ takes off his green university blazer and rolls up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt. “Woowee… a lot of things to go over. Can we start with what you know aboutThe Divinitiespainting from Rockefeller's private collection?”
Hunt grunts, nervously tugging on his whiskers with his left hand. He gestures over the table filled now with his debris. “It’s just one piece of a puzzle, so to speak.”
Now the painting is a puzzle? I lean back, folding my arms over my chest. “Contrary to what you might think, we’re working with time constraints. Explain yourself.”
His face blanches at my words, hands dropping to the table as he pulls a book towards him. “It was an entire collection that was broken up in the early twentieth century. Many scholars believe the paintings had hidden meanings. The Eternal Triad and the Sentinels ended up…” He points to red circles in Europe on themap. “One is at the Louvre, the other in the private collection of a Swiss boarding school.”
Sentinels. The word stirs up forceful emotions. My mouth goes dry.
“... lay down my life for my fellow man, protect the Divine. All that was created from field to bone… we the Sentinel guard, the Chosen Eight.”
We all recite together with a hand on the shoulder to our right.
The dreams…
“... arguably the most rare is this one. It hasn’t been seen since World War Two. It’s the Souls of Eight.” Hunt shuffles the map aside, his hands shaking as he pulls out a book stamped with an infinity symbol with the triangle inside. The House of Eights crest.
JJ whips out his phone to take notes, Soren leans in, and I do my best to pay attention. Hearing ‘Sentinel’ knocked me off balance, but seeing our symbol feels like a warning. A distant bell ringing closer.
Hunt taps a pencil against his lips while using his other hand to page through the booklet. “This was a controversial print from 1908. Anonymously penned, it mentions a secret society… not unlike the Knights Templar, but its true origins and what it was meant to do could only be guessed at.”
I want to grab the book from him, but he seems reluctant to share it. Instead, JJ reaches for it, but misses. “Why was that secret society controversial?”
Hunt ignores his question while he uses the book’s edge to tap on the map. “Of course, nothing was ever discovered that proved any of the theories this person had. But in 1988,-”
He’s cut off by the fire alarms blaring in the library.
We hastily help him gather what he had spread across the table, and in the chaos, I slip a sheet of paper that caught my eye into my pocket when he wasn’t looking.
JJ pulls at my arm to get my attention before mouthing, ‘Suspicious timing.’
Dr. Hunt clutches his briefcase against his chest; the clasp having finally given way after we got out the door. “You asked specifically aboutThe Divinitiespainting. In my studies, I’ve found it represents a larger idea... a balance if you will. Some people romanticize it, saying it speaks of God’s love or love incarnate, that it’s representative of the struggle between good and evil.”
“Right. That’s my understanding.” JJ nods.
He tugs again at his beard and says, “Ahhh… nothing is ever that simple. Legend claims that throughout time, a balance exists. The Sentinel guard protects mankind. The Eternal Triad creates a powerful force of equilibrium. And the Souls of Eight remain a mystery. They could be disruption, chaos… they may very well be what some think of as evil.”
The look Soren, JJ, and I share carries the full weight of our shock.
We’re the truth seekers, the history keepers. We’re not the bad guys. No way. No how.
