The Search for Artemis - By P. D. Griffith Page 0,65

asleep, clutching his cup loosely on his lap. Dr. Brighton grabbed the cup, which sat on the verge of spilling its contents all over his sleeping pupil, and set it delicately on the coffee table to keep from waking him. The storm continued to rage outside, as strobes of blue light lit up the room and the booming thunder shook the walls.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THANKSGIVING

When Landon woke up, he was laying under the covers in a large bed. Sunlight streamed through the numerous windows along the wall, bathing the room in warm, bright light. He groaned as he lifted himself up. Every muscle in his body ached, but as he moved to the edge of the bed, he felt a subtle heat running through his veins. It wasn’t painful or overbearing, but more so like the heat of a furnace or winter’s fire, providing a calming warmth.

The trip to the window was slow and painful, and he soon realized he wasn’t in his own clothing. He was wearing a pair of white pants drawn around his waist and a blue cotton t-shirt. Where am I? he thought, but once he reached the window he realized he was still in Dr. Brighton’s Secret Garden. It took him a bit longer to realize he was in the pagoda, but he’d only ever been on the first floor, where it was open and empty.

Landon cautiously walked into the next room. It felt like walking out of his old bedroom in the city. Built-in bookshelves encompassed the room, broken only by the many windows that lined the walls. Each shelf was filled to the brim with volumes and volumes of books. Landon looked at the shelf to his right, moving his finger along the spines, nosily studying the library. Unlike his mother’s wealth of fiction, this collection contained ancient-looking editions of works by philosophers and scientists from the East and West.

The room had small figurines and items set up on tables and peppered between the books on the shelves. These appeared to be historical relics from around the world: ornate jade statues from Asia, painted vases depicting the stories of heroes from ancient Greece, sketches from the European Renaissance, Samurai weaponry and Roman coins. It appeared that every great civilization since the dawn of man had donated something to Dr. Brighton’s collection.

Then Landon noticed Dr. Brighton sitting on a dark couch. He was like a statue, poised with his elbow resting on his knee and his chin resting on his fist, a perfect representation of The Thinker. The image brought memories of his mother lying lifeless on the apartment floor with the replica of that titular statue beside her, covered in her blood. Unmoved and unaware, Dr. Brighton leaned over a chessboard, studying the game.

“Knight to a4,” he said with a raised voice.

“Queen to a3.” The voice that returned with the next move was feminine and coming from somewhere behind Landon.

He turned around to find a small door he hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Knight to c3 taking White Queen’s Knight,” Dr. Brighton said, triumphantly, after pausing a moment to contemplate his move.

“Pawn to c3, which should eliminate your . . . King’s Knight.” Sofia Petrovanya emerged from the door. She was carrying a tray of tea and sandwiches.

“Landon!” she exclaimed in surprise.

Landon hadn’t seen her since his orientation, and of all people, he wasn’t expecting her to come out of the small room he now understood to be a kitchen. She was more beautiful than the first time he’d seen her. Her ice blue eyes gleamed like gemstones, and her blonde hair hung casually in loose tendrils that cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face.

“We wondered if you’d ever wake up,” she continued.

“Landon’s finally up?” Dr. Brighton interjected from the couch. He’d taken his attention off of the chessboard and was leaning over to look at Landon standing in the hallway.

“Come. Join us.” Sofia motioned with her head toward the seating area, telling Landon he should follow.

Dr. Brighton slid over to make room for him on the couch. Sofia, after setting down the tray beside the chess game, sat in a chair across the table and started to pour tea for everyone and divvy up the sandwiches.

“Please eat,” she said after handing Landon a small plate with two egg salad sandwiches sitting on it. “You’ve been out for quite a while. I imagine you’re very hungry.”

Landon took the plate gratefully. He was starving and devoured one of the sandwiches, not taking a second to even taste the food.