Lon was touched. He accepted Joshua’s treasure with high moment, saying he would be honored to harbor the writings with his own coveted texts. Gently he placed Joshua’s records on the shelf. When the manuscripts were finally nestled, he took Josh by the arm and said, “There is something I would show you.”
He led Josh to a hidden door, then through it to a hidden room. Once inside, Joshua momentarily had to hold his breath; all manner of surpassing things were here.
“My museum,” said Lon.
Josh walked silently from shelf to shelf. Strange artifacts sat in delicate display, mysterious machines from another time. Colored glass beakers, some connected by elaborate coils, filled one whole wall. A small collection of crumbling, ancient books was propped on the end cubicle. Josh read the titles: all contained the word Alchemy.
Another section of the room was devoted to various dried herbs, animal parts, and raw gemstones. Timidly Josh walked up and down aisles of curious devices. All were labeled: Television, Film Projector, Video Cassette Recorder, DVD Player, Holographic Laser Projector, Lava-Lite, Crystal Ball, Nutty Putty, Cardiac Pacemaker, Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus, Microwave Oven, Geiger Counter, Magic Eight Ball – and all these things potent with silence.
“The magic of times past lives here; antiques of sorcery,” Lon said. “And though museum it is, every item here is in working order – oh, the moving parts must be hand-turned, now; electricity is such a rare luxury – but the magic contained in these potions and contraptions is still strong. You can feel it when you walk in the room.”
Indeed, Josh felt as if he were still holding his breath.
“I’ve never shown this room to anyone before,” Lon went on. “It is my special gift to you. In this way we share the magic, as our books share thoughts with each other.”
Josh was overwhelmed with the magnanimity of the gift, the magnificence of the room. He said, simply, “I’d like to see it again, someday.”
Lon smiled. “So you shall,” he said, and led Josh back into the library.
When all at last assembled, fond adieus were bid along with stern admonitions.
“Go east first,” said Lon. “That is safest. Don’t turn south until Mirror Lake. From there you must rely on your hunter’s sense only.”
“We’ll be fine, Lon,” answered Jasmine. “You also take care.”
The noble Vampire took a burnished brass-handled saber off the wall and handed it to his old friend. “This blade has tasted the blood of many foes. May it never hunger in your hands.”
She took the saber from its scabbard, lovingly examined it, replaced it in its sheath, and strapped it to her waist. “I’ll use it well on this hunt, dear friend.” They hugged long and silently.
To the others, each, he gave a tiny gold locket, shaped like a blood-drop. Josh strapped his to his belt, Beauty tied his in his mane, Isis wore hers tightly at the neck. “These you must keep with you always,” said Lon. “If ever you need my help, send this locket back, and I will come.” He hugged them all. “Enough,” he said. His eyes were moist.
Finally he escorted them to another hidden entrance, deep in the golden morning of the forest, where they emerged through a bark-peeling door in the trunk of a massive eucalyptus tree. The Vampire watched them disappear quietly among the green shadows. “Go in good blood,” he said, and returned to his cave.
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