Lester of Two Evils

The Council

At the conclusion of their impromptu meeting in the library's basement, Amanda, Mae, and Lester had decided it would be Mae's job to research fate demons. Utilizing her considerable skills in tracking down the odd and unexplained, she would comb through the damp and dusty archives for anything that might prove helpful. Meanwhile, Lester and Amanda would leverage their family connections to snoop around for information on The Council. A task that was proving to be more challenging than Lester had initially imagined.

The obvious place to start was his father's home office. However, this meant Lester needed to wait for a time when he was alone in the house, which he now realized almost never happened. Mornings were out, as was after school when without his parents around the house became Bernard's domain. Usually, this wouldn't have mattered, but given his brother's newfound love of responsibility, Lester decided he dared not risk it. Evenings his father was apt to be home. And to complicate matters further, his mother's volunteer schedule meant he was never sure where or when she might turn up.

"Mom?" Lester called, stepping through his front door. "Are you home?"

He remained still in the entryway and listened. The only sounds he could hear were the familiar creaking of the old house and the rise and fall of his own slightly accelerated breathing. His mother's car wasn't in the garage, but he needed to be sure.

Living within walking distance of the school had its advantages. A forgotten textbook or homework assignment was easily retrieved. Additionally, like the time Bernard and his crew had boobytrapped Lester's locker, being able to grab a change of clothes was preferable to spending the rest of the day covered in sour-smelling yellow mustard. Technically, students were never allowed to leave the school's grounds without an adult, but Lester could usually get home and back before anyone became aware of his absence. Today, he'd slipped unnoticed out of the chaos of the cafeteria.

Hearing nothing from inside, Lester dropped his backpack and closed the door.

His father's office was located on the third floor in a sloped ceiling attic room at the back of the house. Several generations ago, it had functioned as sleeping quarters for a cook, with its own narrow stairway winding down into the kitchen. This had long ago been sealed off, and the room converted into a small study.

None of the North children were ever foolish enough to bother their father when he was working. But even when he wasn't, Lester had always viewed the cave-like space, with its dark corners and clanging pipes, as a place to be avoided. This meant, without its alternate entrance, there was no practical reason for anyone to venture near, allowing the room to exist apart from the rest of the house. So it became a forgotten fold within the walls and hallways for all but Mr. North.

The antique glass knob turned in Lester's hand, and he let the door swing open as he reached inside for the light switch. The bare bulb hanging from the ceiling did little to illuminate the small room.

While the original footprint of the North's ancestral home remained unchanged from the time of its construction, there had been many improvements over the years. Electricity was added once Edison's power lines finally reached the remote village, and modern insulation, along with airtight windows, now stood against frigid New England winters. Inside, countless layers of paint bore witness to each generation's attempt to keep the interior color scheme abreast with the times. Yet, as Lester looked around the study, he felt confident that the narrow room had changed little since its creation.

The exposed beams in the ceiling and wide boards that lined the floor were almost black with age. A small window set into the far wall looked out over the backyard and the rolling pastures beyond. To its left, several shelves sagged under the weight of dozens of haphazardly stacked books, while an ornate wooden desk filled the corner to the right.