“With the beat, Master Quintin. With the beat.” The black-clad man paced in tandem with the metronome, his polished shoes clicking like talons on the marble floor.
I would have welcomed an ice pick to my skull over the abrasive tick, tick, tick dictating my every musical inclination. But my parents had made it clear that if I didn’t submit to…
Carter walks through the terminal doors and blinks. One minute ago, he was stumbling around in the dark, lost in a briar patch along the Appalachian Trail. Now he’s standing in what looks like an airport from the 1970s. A group of stewardesses in robin’s-egg blue uniforms giggle and wave as they pass.
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I took the form from the gnarled hand. Behind the receptionist’s thick glasses piercing jade eyes examined me. “Fill this out and your request will be considered.”
Only two other applicants sat in cracked vinyl chairs. The mint paint was chipped and stained. A layer of dust covered most surfaces. I took a seat
David crouched underneath a twisted rock formation at the base of the Temporal Cliffs. His trusty radiance revolver, the oldest of its kind, fit snugly in his hand. Overhead, storm clouds gathered, made darker by the wraiths’ smoky black trails.
Thunder rolled across the sky.
“What were we looking for again?” Harvey asked.
“I already told you. I can’t remember the title, but I do remember the book had a bright blue cover.” Shelly picked up a book and showed it to him. “Like this one. Actually, that’s exactly the right shade.” She popped open the cover and began skimming the contents.
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