Tree of Life

Three for Three

“I could hardly believe my ears.” Monty lagged until he and his brother were at the end of the small underground party led by Sergeant James Edwards.

“After all these years of fruitless searching.” Kered tapped his pipe, emptying the spent bowl into the palm of his hand. “It cannot be coincidence.”

Monty kept his eyes low, not wanting to stare directly at the flare as the party ventured further in. Edwards kept the girl, Ebru, directly by his side. Monty had yet to determine the nature of their relationship, but it was closely felt by him and her alike. The old watchman followed, then Earl with the flare.

“I am not yet willing to count our chickens.” Monty whispered to his brother. “But I must admit, the presence of an Armenian is provocative.”

“Her name is Turkish.”

“Most likely a war orphan.”

“My thoughts as well.” Kered struck a match and lit his pipe afresh. “And her invocation of long life from the hand of God?”

“Of course the similarities are hopeful.”

“Hopeful? Pah. She is the very same girl. She must be.”

“Just because you wish it does not make it so, Kered.”

“Just because you refuse to believe does not make it false.” Kered puffed his pipe into a vibrant glow.

“What is it with you and that weed?”

The party stopped briefly, as Sergeant James Edwards ventured a short way down a peripheral tunnel before leading the group in the opposite direction. Monty wondered at the behavior. Surely Edwards knew the tunnel layout. If he had to scout before proceeding, what for?

“Do not change the subject. You’ve never supported my move to Idaho. Now it has payed off. Edwards was at Reims at the same time as the tree. Now the guardian blood line has sought him out half way across the globe. The girl’s presence is confirmation.”

“You smoke too much, my brother. The girl is a refugee. We have proved nothing more.”

“And her mention of inhuman and evil entities dwelling in these tunnels? Feeding on the souls of men? That doesn’t remind you of anything?”

A sharp, blood-curdling scream echoed throughout the tunnel as if emanating from all sides or from the belly of the earth. The other members of the party sprang into full alert.

Monty sighed while uncorking the brandy chamber hidden in the bicep of his mechanical arm. He raised the arm as if to smell the metal armpit. Instead he tossed back a snifter of the golden liquor. He recorked the reservoir. “You very well may be right about Sergeant Edwards and the girl. If that girlish scream is who I think it is, let us hope for Westerly’s sake, you are not three for three.”