Page 67 of The Book of Doors


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The Memories of Drummond Fox (2012)

“Where did this mist come from?” Drummond asked as they approached Washington Square Park. He was conscious that he was feeling a bit tipsy. But he was in a good mood; it had been so long since he had been away from home, so long since he had been in New York, and so long since he had been with his friends.

“Freak weather,” Wagner said, walking alongside him. A few steps behind, Lily and Yasmin were arguing about some obscure point of Egyptian history that Drummond had lost the thread of.

It had been a good meal, a long, luxurious event that none of them had wanted to end. They came together so rarely, but Drummond wondered if the meetings would be as good if they happened more often. Would they enjoy each other as much if they met more frequently? He knew these were the uncertain thoughts of an introvert, and he pushed them away in an attempt to live in the moment.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow, gentlemen?” Yasmin asked, appearing between Drummond and Wagner and slipping her arms into theirs as they crossed the street.

They had another full day together, and the plan had been to do some work, whatever that meant. In the past they had discussed the potential to bring all of their books together into the Fox Library, to create a combined collection, perhaps on some new premises. It wassomething they toyed with from time to time, but Drummond never said much in those conversations, not wanting to give any of his friends the impression that he was trying to take their books for himself.

“I think we should just eat some more,” Lily said. “I know all the good places in Chinatown. I can get us a good deal.”

Drummond smiled at that. The way he was feeling right then, he’d be happy just to eat and talk and enjoy his friends. It was nice to be distracted from his worries, from the stories he was hearing of the book hunters becoming more violent, more aggressive. He worried about the future, about his friends and the books falling into the wrong hands. Sometimes he just wanted to hide away in his house in the middle of nowhere, close the doors and forget about the world.

“We should probably try to do some work,” Wagner suggested, as they crossed the street into Washington Square Park. “But I am thinking of opening a restaurant when I retire, so that counts as work for me.”

“Very good point,” Lily agreed seriously.

“I am getting too old to eat this much,” Yasmin complained. “I am getting fat.”

“Please,” Lily spluttered. “I could fit three of you in my dress.”

The mist seemed thicker in the park, Drummond thought, as if this was where it was coming from. The first itch of unease tickled the back of his mind, but it was a distant thought, softened by the alcohol he had been drinking all evening, and he was distracted by Lily asking him, “Have you heard the rumors about a book that’s been discovered in the Australian Outback?”

“No,” he answered. “Where? What book?”

Lily shrugged, and then shivered as if suddenly feeling the cold. “I thought it was supposed to be hot in New York this time of year. I should have brought a coat.”

“Who’s that?” Yasmin asked.

Drummond looked ahead and saw a woman standing motionless in front of them, not too far away. She was a beautiful woman, Drummond saw, young and slim, wearing a white summer dress that was a bright light in the mist. The woman smiled as they all looked at her, bowing her head slightly.

“Hello?” Wagner asked, but Drummond felt that tickle growing stronger.

He knew, he already knew something was wrong.

The woman said nothing, but it seemed to Drummond that the mist was growing thicker around them, swallowing them and separating them from the city outside the park.

“Is she doing this?” Yasmin asked.

“What?” Lily asked.

“The mist,” Yasmin said. “Is the woman making this mist?”

“Yes,” Drummond said, because he saw it in her face.

“Who are you?” Yasmin asked loudly. “And what do you want?”

The woman in white smiled and everything was silent for a moment in the misty darkness. Drummond heard his own heart pounding in his ears.

And then sudden, shocking action.

The woman moved in a blur and in a second she was next to Lily, to the side of Drummond. Before Lily had a chance to react the woman had pressed a book into her hand and Lily immediately crumpled to the ground with a gut-wrenching wail.

“Lily!” Drummond gasped, shocked at the sound of her pain.

The woman in white looked at Drummond, then to Yasmin next to him and to Wagner just beyond, choosing an adversary. The corners of her mouth twitched up, like she was enjoying herself, and she dropped her head slightly to look at them from beneath her brows. Behind her, on the ground, Lily rolled over and started to beat her own head on the tarmac, violently lurching up and throwing her head down again.

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