Download first five chapters - John Trevillian

THE A-MEN | 23dreaming moment of waking in this place is beginning to fade, butwith it also fades all sense of security. Of ease.So if I can’t talk, what can I do?I still feel sluggish. Both mind and body. I feel drained of the willto face this right now. About all I can do is watch. So I watch. Iwatch the woman who calls herself Esther – and who calls me Jack– as she continues to prepare for some unknown event.Pulling my neck back, I try to ignore the contraption that sitson my head and look toward her. The hat, crown or whatever it ismakes this difficult, but I persevere. And as I do, I see her digging ina large metal chest that stands at the foot of her bed. Of every bedin this huge dorm. Out of it she pulls a variety of clothes and objects,piling them beside her on the floor. I see boots. I see khaki pants. Isee a belt wrapped with tiny leather pouches.Then she pulls out a sword.Though I have no recollection of arriving here – or of leavinganywhere else to come – I know that I have not seen a blade of thistype since I was a child. It is a great thick length of steel. Polished.Its hilt etched in silver. Wrapped in coarse vermillion leather. It hasno scabbard, just a harness that fits across the top and bottom of theblade. A thing of beauty and death, it suits her. It is a treasuredpossession, that much is clear. Just by the loving way her long fingerstouch it. Seems strange for a lump of metal. Perhaps it’s a familyheirloom. Perhaps it is the last thing she owns that links her back toher past. Perhaps–The sword… The sword and the… The sword and the ring. The crossand the circle. The weapon of the warrior. The weapon of the wizard.The sight of the sword has given me a hook. A jagged little barbthat snares a single droplet of memory from the fathomless deeps. Itbobs up and down for a while, unsure if the air will kill it, thensurfaces fully.It is not a memory that I would have expected.I am seated in a room without doors. A panelled room. Somewhereexpensive. The sort of room a professor would have. Old and musty.