Shadow of the Son: Eye of the Moon, #2

Shadow of the Son

Book 2

Ivan Obolensky

Smith-Obolensky Media

Copyright © 2021 Ivan Obolensky

Book design by Smith-Obolensky Media. Cover design by Turtleshell Press, all images used with permission.

Smith-Obolensky Media and the Smith-Obolensky Media logo are service marks of Smith-Obolensky Media. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including via information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the publisher, Smith-Obolensky Media. The sole exception is in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Published by Smith-Obolensky Media, DBA of Dynamic Doingness, Inc., Miami, FL 33133

Publication date: June 21, 2021

www.smithobolenskymedia.com

www.ivanobolensky.com

ISBN: 978-1-947780-28-6

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021909927

Praise for Shadow of the Son

"Containing surreal experiences with the occult, Shadow of the Son by Ivan Obolensky is an extraordinary paranormal novel that incites the imagination and chills the blood. Brilliantly written, the poetic lexis and rhythmic flow of the story create a timeless work of art. It captures the essence of an era long past, enchanting and transporting the reader to a world of gentility and urbanity. Brimming with mystery and intrigue, supernatural elements eerily whisper throughout the plot, creating an underlying gothic sense of horror and suspense."

-5 stars, Susan Sewell for Readers’ Favorite

"Shadow of the Son is the sequel to Ivan Obolensky’s incredible first novel, Eye of the Moon and, if possible, this return to Rhinebeck is even better than our original trip. Percy and Johnny are back, along with all our old friends and a few new ones in another wonderful, mysterious, and captivating weekend that just might hold even more secrets than the first ... .

"Mr. Obolensky has given us yet another wonderfully written novel. The words flow together so perfectly and show that this author has an incredible talent for writing and, his background in such a world of glamour and privilege allows him to write about it perfectly. ...  This author does no wrong in terms of the way he writes about the friendships, issues, and love that is dealt with between this multitude of very diverse characters. …

"Quill says: The first book in this series, Eye of the Moon, was an amazing novel that was extremely difficult to put down once you start reading. It says a lot about the author, the storyline, and the characters when the sequel is even more compelling and even harder to put down, as is the case with Shadow of the Son. I truly cannot wait to see what comes next."

-Feathered Quill Book Review

To Mary Jo, for her encouragement and believing.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Praise for Shadow of the Son

Dedication

Character Map

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55

56

57

58

59

60

61

62

63

64

65

66

67

68

69

70

71

72

73

74

75

76

77

78

79

80

81

82

83

84

85

86

87

88

89

90

91

92

93

94

95

Last Note

Feathered Quill's Interview for Shadow of the Son

Acknowledgements

Character Map

Dodge Family:

Maw is the matriarch.

Robert the Bruce is her dog.

Her children are John Dodge, Sr., and Bonnie Leland.

Alice was John Sr.’s half-sister. Her first husband was Lord Bromley.

John Sr. married Anne and Johnny is their son.

Von Hofmanstal Family:

Hugo (the baron) married Elsa (the baroness). Their children are Bruni and a younger son, who lives in Europe. Bruni is engaged to Percy.

Percy’s Family:

Percy grew up in the Dodge household as Johnny’s best friend.

His mother, Mary, married Thomas and lives in Florence.

Lord Bromley is Percy’s father.

Rhinebeck household staff:

Stanley (the butler) is married to Dagmar (the cook), and their helpers are Simon and Jane. Raymond is Mr. Dodge's personal chauffeur.

Other Guests at Rhinebeck:

Malcolm Ault was a longtime friend of Alice and the agent of Lord Bromley.

Dr. Angus Maxwell-Hughes (Cobb) is Lord Bromley's personal physician.

Prologue

For those who have read Eye of the Moon, I have provided below a brief synopsis of that volume so that the reader can better appreciate the many threads that carry over and into Shadow of the Son.

Please note that although this novel was written some years later, Shadow of the Son picks up not long after Eye of the Moon ends.

Synopsis of Eye of the Moon

Lady Alice, a legendary socialite, died reading a copy of The Egyptian Book of the Dead at her Rhinebeck estate in upstate New York. Johnny Dodge, her nephew, and his friend, Percy, who was brought up with Johnny in the Dodges’ Fifth Avenue apartment, had been told for years that she had simply died. Nonetheless, questions continued to surface, and the press never quite let the story go.

Early one morning and years later, in 1977, Johnny shows up at Percy’s room at the St. Regis and invites him to attend his parents’ special anniversary celebration at Rhinebeck. Percy accepts despite an estrangement between the two friends that began when their trading partnership imploded several years earlier. Attending the five-day house party are Hugo, the Baron von Hofmanstal; Elsa, the baroness; and Bruni, their daughter. Also invited are Johnny’s grandmother, Mary Leland, known in the family as Maw, with her daughter, Bonnie, the half-sister to Johnny’s father, John Dodge. A fierce competition has existed between the two siblings over who will inherit their mother’s extraordinary fortune. Malcolm Ault, a very tall man and friend of the family, is also expected.

Arriving before the other guests, Johnny and Percy decide to do some research about Alice and discover a small statue holding an uncut emerald and a letter written by Alice that was returned to sender, unable to forward. The contents mention the statue and a disturbing incident in the jungles of Ecuador that makes them question everything they’ve been told.

Johnny and Percy turn to Stanley, Alice’s former butler, to find out more. Stanley agrees, but only if they promise to do whatever he asks at some point in the future. They promise, and Stanley tells them that not long after her marriage to Lord Bromley, his lordship locked Alice in a trunk to force her to do whatever he wanted. When he tried to make her sell Rhinebeck, Alice, with Stanley’s help, drugged Lord Bromley and sent him to his club in New York in the same trunk. His lordship barely survived. Once recovered, Stanley informed him that Alice was divorcing him and would bankrupt him should he not agree. Lord Bromley acquiesced but swore he would have his revenge.

Stanley then mentions that Alice had a recurring nightmare about ancient Egypt. In it, she was cursed and compelled to remain halfway between life and death forever. Her experiences in the trunk convinced her that the curse was not only real but active in the present. After getting rid of his lordship, she decided to do all in her power to lift it. She studied the occult, shamanic practices, and archeology, while collecting ancient artifacts. At the end of his tale, Stanley shows them the secret repository behind a wall in Alice’s apartment that holds the treasures and books she accumulated.

The next day, Johnny wants to know more about the occult and borrows a volume on demon summoning from the repository. He uses the little statue and a tincture that Alice used to aid in the summoning. He slips some of the tincture to Percy. The experiment is inconclusive, but Percy acquires a new intuition after taking it.

Percy falls in love with Bruni, but her father, the baron, takes an instant dislike to him, putting his potential relationship with her in doubt from the start. 

Percy and Johnny eventually discover that the anniversary celebration is not the reason the guests have been invited. The estate needs money to survive, and a silent auction for Alice’s treasures is being held in secret to raise the necessary funds.

Now that Percy is over twenty-five, Stanley delivers a letter to him from Alice in which she reveals that his real father is Lord Bromley. Further, his father’s behavior turned abusive only after he was knocked unconscious in a riding accident. To honor the happiness of the love she shared with Percy’s father and because Percy is the personification of the child they never had, Alice informs him that he is now the owner of Rhinebeck and all its treasures, provided they are not removed from the estate. Percy reveals this information at the anniversary white-tie dinner and informs the guests that the estate’s treasures are not for sale, putting him in conflict with all the buyers and with Mr. Dodge, who has arranged the auction.

The next day, in a meeting with Mr. Dodge, the current trustee of the estate, Percy learns that the insolvency and the need to raise money through the auction are the result of a series of financial missteps by Mr. Dodge. Percy forgives him, and a solution to the estate’s insolvency is worked out. The baron and Lord Bromley, through his agent, Malcolm Ault, agree to buy the treasures by splitting the cost while allowing the treasures to remain at Rhinebeck with one proviso: Bruni and Percy agree to marry. Percy proposes, and Bruni accepts. The novel ends with the financial crisis resolved and Rhinebeck with a more hopeful future.

***

There are, of course, many details that have been left out of this brief synopsis. A great deal happens in Eye of the Moon, but, at the least, you will be reoriented sufficiently to enjoy what follows.

I should also add once again that this is a work of fiction. The characters in this novel are not real, although some of the names are of people who lived. Most of them have passed away. None of them said or did the things I have written. I also set the time of the action in the 1970s before cell phones and computers.

Lastly, at the very end of Eye of the Moon, Percy is driving away from Rhinebeck and for a moment thinks he hears someone calling out for him to come back, but when he turns to look, all he sees is the road behind him fading into the mist. On that note, I suggest we read on to find out more about that.

1

Johnny Dodge and I had returned to New York after settling my affairs and moving myself and my forensic accounting practice out of Los Angeles. It was a Wednesday morning in the spring of 1977, and I was sitting in one of the client chairs in Johnny’s office at Dodge Capital when his phone rang.

Johnny answered and then passed it across the desk. It sounds like the baron, looking for you.

I took the phone.

Percy?

I recognized the voice. Baron.

Call me Hugo.

Hugo …

You need an office.

I do. It’s next on the list.

Well, get it done. On another matter, meet me at 21 at 7:00 p.m. tomorrow. We’ll have dinner, just the two of us. We have some things to discuss. Don’t be late.

I wouldn’t dream of it.

Very good, he said and hung up.

Hugo was the Baron von Hofmanstal and my future father-in-law. He and I were technically on a first-name basis, but I tended to call him by his title. Hugo would correct me, but only sporadically. My addressing him as baron, I thought, stroked his already prodigious ego. He was, after all, small of stature and a little round, but then so was Napoleon. Hugo looked like the former emperor and had a similar presence. He was at once charismatic and intimidating. He also had a cruel and violent nature. Hugo enjoyed dueling, hunting, deal-making, and crushing those who dared to cross him. As a rule, I was careful not to give offense, and with Hugo I was doubly so, but I had yet to formulate a consistent protocol as to when to call him Hugo, or when to address him as baron. It was one of many things that I was trying to work out as I wrestled with the fact that he and I would be seeing a great deal more of each other. Such a relationship was not without its advantages. For a start, there was his daughter and my fiancée, Brunhilde, or Bruni to her friends. I handed back the phone.

Johnny took it. You were thinking of her again, he said, looking at me across his desk. He was in his typical office attire, dark suit, cream-colored shirt, and dark blue tie with small white polka dots. His hair was golden blond and worn somewhat long, as was the fashion.

I was indeed. You’re jealous, of course.

I don’t think so. Enjoying that future father-in-law of yours?

Okay, maybe not. Hugo wants to dine with me tomorrow at the 21 Club.

Just the two of you?

Just the two of us.

Excellent. Perhaps he’ll confess his darkest secrets, now that you’re part of the family—or almost.

I doubt it, but I’ll tell you what I can.

Make sure you do. On another subject—one I hesitate to bring up, but one I must, since it’s the next item on our list—the office. How would you feel about renewing our partnership?

This was a decision that couldn’t be put off any longer. Johnny was my best friend. He and I had grown up together in the Dodge household, where I was a long-term resident since my mother and stepfather were often abroad. We had formed a trading partnership, but that had imploded thanks to Johnny’s grandmother, better known as Maw to the Dodge family, and in the corporate world as The Crone. Johnny had worked out a deal with her whereby both of us had been compensated for her deliberate sabotage of our little enterprise. Since then, I had thought a great deal about renewing our partnership and had finally concluded that now was a time for new beginnings.

All right. I agree. We give it another go.

You’re sure?

I’m sure. It was a happy time for both of us, other than the ending. But with the understanding that I continue my forensic accounting practice for now. My fees will hopefully cover the overhead while we gather assets. It’s also a cross-selling opportunity.

Agreed, but subject to change once we’re established.

Fair enough. Your dad will have to be informed, and he might not be pleased at losing you to private practice.

I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Frankly, I could do with a chance to stretch out a little, and he would no longer have to worry about what I’m doing all the time. It could work for both of us. I’ll broach the matter and get his agreement. He and Mother are heading up to Rhinebeck this afternoon. I could head up there as well, inform them tonight, and be back tomorrow?

Sounds good. As for the office, let’s start with something functional and not too ostentatious.

I would have to disagree. A good location and a sophisticated presentation can be quite effective in overcoming investor reluctance. Too spartan an appearance, and the public will think we’re operating on a shoestring and can’t afford their business.

"Too extravagant, and we will be operating on a shoestring."

True. But I have some good news. Our old offices are available. How about I give the leasing agent a call and set it up?

All right.

Johnny was reaching for the phone when another call came in. He picked up, listened for a moment, and asked, Who’s calling? After a pause, he said, One moment and put the caller on hold.

I don’t know if you want to take this. The caller says he’s Bruni’s husband.

That’s unexpected.

What do you want to do?

Speak with him.

Are you sure that’s wise?

No, but news travels fast it seems, and some things can’t be avoided indefinitely.

Johnny passed me the phone and took the line off hold.

So you’re Percy?

The voice on the other end had a French accent and sounded far away.

Yes, I am.

"My name is Bernard Montrel, Bruni’s soon-to-be ex-husband. Listen, for I have little time. I harbor no ill feeling toward you, as unlikely as that may sound. I doubt there was much you could have done to avoid the position you’re in. I was in a similar place. How dire it was I had no way of knowing. You face similar perils, which is why I tracked you down. Someone must say something. Trust no one in that family. Their loyalty is only to themselves. She will wrap you in silky threads and spin you round and round, before she sucks you dry. Remember, I had the courtesy to give you fair warning. C’est tout."

The line went dead.

2

T rouble? asked Johnny.

Without a doubt.

Why am I not surprised? Tell me.

I repeated what Bernard had said. Johnny didn’t answer right away but rocked back in his chair and looked out the window at the office building across the street.

I think this qualifies as an ‘Iago’ moment, he said at last, turning to face me. There is poison in the man’s words. If you were Othello, I’d advise you to ignore him completely, but you’re not. You’re my friend, and as your friend, my loyalty is only to you, irrespective of the state of your future marriage or other relationships. You may not like what I have to say. Should I continue?

Disliking what you have to say wouldn’t be particularly new, would it?

I suppose not, but this is different. I know how I am when I’m involved with someone. I can barely see straight, let alone listen to reason. Speak against the one I love, and I struggle to contain myself.

Johnny’s love affairs had been a surprising source of trouble. They were incessant, tumultuous, and created endless difficulties for both of us. I was the one he turned to for advice, which he invariably misinterpreted, misconstrued, or plain ignored at critical moments.

I understand, I said. I was always careful about commenting on your love affairs for that reason. We are different in that regard, but I get your point. It’s personal.

Remember when we first met the von Hofmanstals, and our heads were filled with suspicions about them?

I think I was more than a little paranoid at the time.

Indeed, but remember we were right in our initial assessment. The baron did want Alice’s treasures and was there to obtain them. The parents, on the other hand, told us more than once that they were good people and worth knowing. My suspicions were quieted, but, in truth, never laid to rest. Now, don’t get me wrong, I think Bruni is a good match for you, and I have a high opinion of your future in-laws, but they have their own agendas. Their family is not my family. And Bruni’s former husband presented no hard evidence other than his opinion, but if it were me, I doubt I would have expended the time and effort necessary to find you. Other than a genuine attempt to warn you, I can see no other motive for tracking you down. Would you agree?

It’s quite likely, I answered. Although I sensed some vindictiveness in his words.

There might be some of that. Talk to your butler and majordomo. If Stanley says Bernard’s claims are nothing, then dismiss them from your mind, and I’ll do the same. But should Stanley think there’s something to it, I’d definitely want to know what he would advise.

Perhaps this weekend.

Sooner is better. In fact, I recommend we drive up to Rhinebeck now. You can talk to Stanley, revisit your property, and I can speak with Father. After that, we can all have dinner together, and you and I can drive back tomorrow morning. Besides, there’s always Dagmar’s cooking to feed the soul, an opportunity not to be missed. She might have some words as well.

Why now, when I’ll be there on Friday?

I’ll get to that. My further advice is speak to Bruni. Tell her about the phone call, but I think the chat with Stanley should be a private one. Not because I distrust her, but because it will allow a more free-flowing conversation that may not be possible this weekend when she’ll be there.

No Bruni then.

That’s what I recommend.

I had some reservations about going back earlier than I had planned, but returning now seemed the better choice given the nature of the call.

Very well. I agree. It would be a prudent move. That being said, I’m more than willing to welcome whatever von Hofmanstal secrets, machinations, or eccentricities exist. I made that decision when I decided to marry Bruni. It’s part of the package, and I accept all its implications.

That’s as it should be. More information has never been a problem. It’s the lack that causes difficulties, from what I’ve seen. You have a chance to lay any and all suspicions to rest, and that can only be good.

Or inflate them.

That, too, but, if it were me, I’d rather be forewarned, than not. Wouldn’t you?

Yes.

That’s settled then. I’ll get my assistant to arrange a car and make an appointment with the leasing agent. On another matter, which this last call brings front and center, you will be getting married, and our relationship will change. Both of us will have to adapt, and that may be hard. Whatever happens, I don’t want to become a pain or a burden to you.

I doubt that’s possible. We’re entering a new configuration is all, and since you and I are partners again, I’ll likely spend as much time with you as with Bruni. I’m not worried about that aspect, even if you might be.

I am, a little. Still, I feel better having mentioned it. Now, I’ll speak to my assistant and give you some privacy to make your call.

As Johnny left, I reached over his desk and dialed the baron’s office. Bruni was his in-house attorney. A receptionist answered and put me through to my fiancée after a short wait.

Percy, it’s been so long.

A couple of hours, but it seems like forever.

It does. Time slows when we’re apart. What’s up?

I had a couple of interesting calls. The first was from your father. He wants to meet me for dinner tomorrow at 21, just the two of us.

Lucky you. You’ll have the sole?

Since he’s paying, absolutely. I also had a call from your ex.

Oh? What did he have to say?

With that question and tone, Bruni had switched to her professional mode. I repeated what he had said in full.

She paused for a moment. "Bernard is skillful. He’s managed to let you know that he accepts that he and I are done, while sowing a seed of doubt between us, hoping it will grow. He’s trouble, but we won’t have to worry about him much longer. You should also know that my family, your family-to-be, always has an agenda. There will never be a time when there isn’t something cooking. My father would go mad if that wasn’t the case. Both my parents like you a great deal, which means you’ll be part of whatever it is they have in mind, and I want that as well. By the way, last night was delicious, but tonight I have to work. Expect me very late."

That may prove a benefit. I should also tell you that Johnny and I have decided to renew our partnership, but he wants his father’s blessing. John Sr. and Anne will be in Rhinebeck tonight as part of a long weekend. I thought I’d drive up with Johnny and return tomorrow morning. I’ll also have a chance to speak to Stanley, check out Alice’s apartment, and make any needed adjustments before you and I drive up on Friday.

I think that’s sensible. I also feel that a partnership with Johnny’s a good idea. You’re good for each other. Besides, I have to look over a monstrous business proposal before a meeting tomorrow. I might even sleep at the office.

At your desk?

There’s a bedroom here. It’s tiny, but there’s a shower, and a change of clothes.

I’ll miss you.

And I’ll miss you. I can’t wait to drive up with you on Friday. By the way, I wouldn’t read any ghost stories before bed tonight.

Not a chance. I intend to sleep like a baby.

Talk to you tomorrow. Love you.

Love you.

3

Ihung up the phone. While I waited for Johnny to finish making arrangements, I thought about Rhinebeck. Inevitably, that started the train of thought that had drifted in and out of my mind ever since I’d left. I wanted to savor the timeless beauty that awaited me, but I was uneasy. As the chauffeur-driven limousine had swept up the drive, I had heard someone calling out, imploring me to come back. The voice had been clear enough to cause me to twist and look behind, but as I peered back through the swirling fog in the car’s wake, I had seen no one.

At the time, I had debated whether what I’d heard was real or my imagination playing tricks on me. Over the years at Rhinebeck, I had occasionally heard peculiar sounds or vague murmurings at the edges of my hearing in late afternoons. Whispers would move among the shadows in the drawing room, behind the curtains in the library, or pass me as I climbed the stairs to the top floor. I would turn, or follow, but always they moved off until I couldn’t hear them anymore. I had spoken to Johnny about them, but he would shrug his shoulders and say, I haven’t heard such things. It could be your imagination, but maybe not. The place is strange, what can I say?

Johnny may not have been able to confirm the things I’d heard, but he and I both agreed that there was something odd about the west wing where Alice, Johnny’s aunt, had lived and died. Growing up, we had entered her apartment only when invited, and such occasions had been brief and far between. After Alice had died and passed to places we could only imagine, we had sometimes felt we were being watched. A chill would settle over the house, and cheery spaces would grow dark and gloomy. The staff would be on edge and inclined to whisper. Even Stanley would be affected, his normal ghostlike service more tentative and unsure. Dagmar in her kitchen would snap at anybody who was moving slowly, which, according to her, was everyone.

Johnny and I never knew what caused such feelings, only that the house was unsettled and disturbed. We would be good as gold until the feeling dissipated, and we could gravitate to our normal antics with little to fear, other than being assigned more chores when we went too far.

From my first visit, the house had projected an aura of mystery and a brooding watchfulness. Deep currents moved beneath the surface. I remembered Rhinebeck’s dark gray exterior looming out of the fog on a threatening afternoon in December just before Christmas.

Johnny had briefed me on the estate’s many secret hiding places, but most of all, he had wanted to introduce me to Alice, his favorite aunt. Not only did she have an uncanny ability to thwart mischief, he informed me, but an alarming prescience that was vaguely comforting. He was unable to articulate such feelings at the time, other than to warn me to guard my thoughts, as he was willing to bet his aunt was able to read minds, including mine. I considered the implications and was more than a little intimidated from the outset.

If she could read my mind, then she would know how tentative my existence was, and how I yearned for a sense of belonging. She would also know the loneliness and the darkness that lay within my soul, and that was more than I was willing to convey to anyone. I fretted over this as I endured the long drive to meet her.

We had turned down the sloping driveway to the squared roundabout that marked the entrance. I watched the front door open, and a tall woman with jet-black hair stepped out wearing a thin, cream-colored dress that seemed to defy the bleakness of the weather. She stood alone at the top of the steps as she waited. She smiled as the car approached, but for a moment I saw a flicker of something else. It might have been that she too anticipated our meeting with a sense of trepidation. I wondered at the reason. She knew Johnny and Raymond, Mr. Dodge’s chauffeur, therefore that passing emotion must’ve been due to meeting either the new nanny or myself. That I could elicit such a feeling was inconceivable, but in that brief moment of vulnerability, my heart went out to her. I saw that she, years older and an adult, was as alone and fearful as I was.

As we crunched around the driveway toward the front door, I watched a man in a somber morning suit step out, drape a dark blue shawl about her shoulders, and then step to the side. The car stopped, but Johnny didn’t wait for Raymond to open the door. He flung it open himself as the nanny squawked, and he dragged me along in his enthusiasm to be the first to introduce me to his aunt.

Johnny bounded up the steps with me in tow and announced, This is Percy. He’s staying with us.

The lady smiled and leaned slightly toward me as she held out her hand. Still caught in that precious moment of impossible connection, I stepped in close and hugged her waist. She laughed and said, Whoa, little man. Here we do things a little differently, but I thank you just the same. I’m Alice.

I stepped back a little flustered, but as I looked into her dark eyes, they sparkled with a pleasure that seemed to focus only on me.

My name is Percy, I said, looking up at her.

Yes, it is. And this is Stanley, she said, turning toward the man in the dark suit next to her. Something passed between them, and then he looked down at me. I stuck out my hand, but he didn’t take it. I let it drop to my side. He examined me with bright blue eyes that could have hidden any emotion, or none at all. He didn’t speak but only nodded. And so Stanley, a few seconds after Alice, entered my life as I had entered into his.

Dreaming again?

I jumped. Johnny had entered and stood at the door observing me. I shuddered and said, I was thinking.

Ah, yes. You do seem a tad jumpy. Tell me about that in the car. It’s out front.

4

Achauffeur from the limo service opened the rear door for us and went around to the driver’s side. He started up and threaded through New York City traffic, while Johnny and I stretched out in the back. Once we were on our way, Johnny rolled up the dividing window and asked the driver a question. He didn’t answer.

He can’t hear us, so we can speak freely. Now, you seem agitated. Speak to me.

I hesitated before answering and looked at the passing scenery instead. Once again, I asked myself whether what I’d heard as I left Rhinebeck had been real or imagined and was unable to make up my mind. On top of that, I had begun to recognize the possibility that I was hopelessly ill-prepared to manage an estate the size of Rhinebeck. What would happen to the intangible legacies and those who depended on me should I fail?

Fail and nothing would be forgiven, Dagmar had said, and that there would be consequences. But what exactly and from whom, I didn’t know.

Over the years, I had come to believe that whatever lay at the mystical center of Rhinebeck was not altogether friendly. I had always sensed a reluctant neutrality that could be withdrawn at any time. My awareness of that something had frightened me growing up, particularly in the dead of night when I would awaken for no reason other than that something had disturbed my sleep.

I had ignored such provocations as best I could, but I was not always successful.

When moonlight streamed through the single round window of my room, and I had been awakened, I would peer out from underneath the covers at the familiar shapes of my desk and chair. Nothing would appear out of place, but I could never be sure. My imagination would grapple with the things I couldn’t see, and I would pull the covers over my head to quiet it. Sleep would eventually find me, but not before I had distressed myself to exhaustion. Other times, when there was no moon, I would sit up in the black and whisper softly to whatever listened, Go away. Silence or a breath of air would be the answer.

After many such occurrences, I couldn’t contain my anxiety any longer. I mentioned what I had experienced to Johnny. His answer was simple. Make a bargain, he told me. It’s what I did.

I took his advice and cut a deal of sorts. That night, whispering to the darkness, I agreed to say nothing to anyone about the moody perturbations that would awaken me, but only if I might be left alone. It seemed to work. The incidents grew less frequent. I thanked Johnny for his advice a week later. He shook his head as if to say that the walls might hear us and then nodded in agreement. We didn’t speak about it after that.

Back in the present, I sighed and looked out at the countryside. I did feel agitated.

Finally, after a long pause, I turned to Johnny. I’ve been a little reluctant to return to Rhinebeck, if you must know. That may be surprising, but there it is. I heard someone, or something, call out to me as we drove away the last time. It could have been my imagination. I chose to disregard that call, and now I’m returning. I don’t know what will happen. Also, the intuition that I had when I was last at Rhinebeck has gone.

Gone?

Disappeared. Its silence began the same time we left.

That is troubling. What do you think is going on?

I really don’t know. I’m in uncharted territory.

What exactly happened when we left? You never told me any of this.

I didn’t mention it because I wasn’t sure I really heard anything. As we were driving away, a voice called out for me to return. I sensed an urgency and perhaps a longing. It was sharp but indefinite at the same time. I couldn’t tell precisely the direction it came from.

I see, said Johnny. I didn’t hear any such thing, but that doesn’t mean that you didn’t. If you want my honest opinion, I don’t know too many people who can change careers, discover Lord Bromley is their father, become engaged, take on an estate the size of Rhinebeck, promise who-knows-what to keep it going, have the von Hofmanstals as future in-laws, and not feel out of sorts. That amount of change is enough to drive anyone ’round the bend. You may be experiencing a simple case of nerves, even if what you heard was real.

Possibly, but I’m concerned.

"I know you are. You think that you’ll fall short. You always do. But really, Percy, you can’t lead by seeing catastrophes at every turn … not if you ever hope to win. You will make mistakes. It’s normal. You’re now the custodian of Rhinebeck. Right or wrong, leaving for California to pack up your stuff and move here was essential for you to assume that role. Correct?"

Yes, but I didn’t turn back when perhaps I should have. Now I’m worried that I may have doomed this endeavor from the start.

"Listen to yourself! Really, Percy, the future isn’t written in stone. At least it wasn’t last I checked. You need to settle yourself. I’ve seen you in such moods before. Why don’t you take a nap while I look over some papers? I doubt you’ve been getting much sleep, and catching up on it can only help. Have you