Ben walked ahead of the mother and son. A brisk wind had kicked up while they were still on the roof, and even the bright sunlight could not dampen the chill. Eilifir was waiting by a tree just west of the door to Caitlin’s building. He remained there, his smartphone in his left hand, his right hand in his pocket. He kept it there even after Ben had emerged, followed by his guests. Ben approached the man, watching Eilifir as he would watch a diplomat at the United Nations: with innate mistrust.
“Have you ever seen these people?” Ben asked.
Eilifir peered over his sunglasses. “Only photographs taken by the individual I relieved,” he said. “Who are they?”
“Vodou practitioners from Haiti,” Ben said.
“You have made some interesting friends,” Eilifir remarked as Enok and his mother walked up.
Ben introduced them. Eilifir acknowledged them with a slight dip of his head.
“Caitlin met them there while working on… this matter,” Ben went on. “They came here because, according to Madame Langlois, they knew she’d be in danger.”
“Great danger,” the woman corrected him.
Eilifir smiled. Ben did not.
“The woman has some kind of connection with Caitlin O’Hara,” Ben went on, “though I’m not sure how that works: snakes seem to be a key. This woman says a snake god is coming.”
“Is coming,” she said with emphasis.
“Caitlin saw a snake in a vision,” Ben went on. “The madame invoked some kind of snake—a mirage, I guess you’d call it, upstairs.”
“A harbinger,” the woman gently corrected him again.
“That’s the foundation of—what word did you use? A ‘connection’?” Eilifir said mockingly.
Ben nodded. “I have to agree it’s not very impressive, except for one thing. The arm motions in Galderkhaani, the curlicue designs in their writing—they’re all very serpentine.”
“So are the movements of a ballet dancer, and the art form did not originate in Galderkhaan,” Eilifir remarked. “It is of fairly recent vintage. I have season tickets to the Kirov.”
“There’s more, but I can’t go into it now,” Ben said impatiently.
“I’m certain there is,” Eilifir remarked. “What would you suggest I do with this information—and them?”
“I can’t leave them here and I can’t take them with me to work,” Ben said. “I assume your people have a base somewhere, a headquarters.”
Eilifir regarded Ben. “Are you pumping me for information, Mr. Moss?”
“Jesus, no,” Ben said. “Friend, I don’t give a good damn about you and your associates. In fact, I’ve had it with cloak-and-dagger, and I certainly have no patience for it now.”
“You know, I believe you, Mr. Moss,” Eilifir said. “But I am supposed to watch this building. I can’t take charge of them. Anyway, I think you got what you wanted.”
“I don’t follow.”
Eilifir cocked his head toward the two. “Them, out of the house. Do you care if they stay here on the street?”
“I do,” Ben said. “I tell you, there’s something between them and Caitlin.”
Eilifir grinned. “I believe you. I just wanted to make sure.”
“God, can I just have my life back without the games?” Ben asked. “Listen, nothing will be happening here, I assure you. Do you think I’d be leaving if I thought Caitlin would be coming back for breakfast? All you’re going to see happening here is her parents arriving. That’s it. They’ll be coming to take Jacob O’Hara to school and they’ll be here when he gets back. You will also see an exhausted, frustrated psychiatrist named Anita Carter leaving.”
“Madame Langlois seems to believe something else will happen,” Eilifir pointed out. “Snakes.”
“Like Saint Patrick, the snakes will go where she goes,” Ben said. “I’m sure of that too. They’ve only appeared in her presence.”
“As far as you know,” Eilifir said.
“Yes. As far as I know.”
The shorter man gazed at the Haitian pair. Madame Langlois had gone back several paces to sit on the stoop of the building. Huddled in her sweater, she had resumed staring at the dying leaves of the trees. Enok stood at the foot of the steps and watched the two men with unflinching eyes. His face looked, just then, like a skull.
There was a ping. Ben’s eyes dropped to Eilifir’s phone. It had been dark. Now it was beaming with a text. Eilifir looked at it and then at Ben.
“All right,” Eilifir said. “I will take them to our sanctuary.”
“You had me on speakerphone?” Ben asked.
“I did.”
“Nice of you to let me know,” Ben said. “With whom?”
“My superior,” Eilifir said. “We host, but the two of them must go willingly. And they remain with us.”
“You have a deal,” Ben said, pushing his indignation far to the side. “Where—and what—is this sanctuary? Is it a religious institution? A fortress of some kind?”
“Nothing as formidable as that,” the man replied. “It’s an estate in Connecticut. Very large, very comfortable, very isolated. There is an SUV on Central Park West. I will call it to come and collect them.”
Ben exhaled. “So now I have to persuade them to take a ride outside the city.”
“All you have to do is persuade them to get in,” Eilifir said. “I won’t force them to do that.”
“No,” Ben said, “and you will definitely want their cooperation. Hers to get Enok’s. Where in Connecticut?”
“Right on the Long Island Sound, in Norwalk.”
“Water,” Ben said. “I think she’ll like that. All right, give me a moment to talk to them. And Eilifir? The intrigue aside, thank you.”
Eilifir grinned. “The intrigue is not even what makes this work intriguing,” he quipped.
Ben acknowledged that with a nod and Eilifir watched as he walked over to the Langloises. Enok’s eyes followed Ben like those of a predator watching prey. Conversely, Eilifir did not seem interested in Ben; Ben didn’t know whether he should be flattered that he seemed trustworthy or insulted that he suddenly seemed beside the point.
Ben stopped in front of Enok and his mother, took a moment to collect his thoughts.
“Madame Langlois, Enok—the gentleman behind me is a colleague who knows more about this situation than I do,” Ben said. “Would you consider staying with him outside of New York while I—”
Madame Langlois held up a hand and Ben stopped. She removed her necklace, aided by her son, and peered through it at Eilifir.
“I see him still,” she announced. “I feared he might be bokor. He is not. We will go.”
Enok placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. She lightly shrugged it off as she replaced the necklace.
“We came so far,” she said. “We must go farther.” She waved a hand above her. “And I am cold here.” She leaned around Ben. “Have you tea?” she yelled to Eilifir.
“I will make sure you get some,” he responded with a smile.
Ben stood there watching as Madame Langlois raised her elbow and, taking it, Enok carefully helped her to her feet. Together, they walked over to the man. As they did, Ben googled the word she had uttered on his phone.
He was not surprised. Bokor meant sorcerer. The woman might have her quirks and magick, but she was consistent. She really did seem to believe.