Mightiest of Swords (The Inkwell Trilogy Book 1) by Aaron Buchanan Page B

but I felt good…even if I tugging at the bandage around my eyes verified that my eyes were not, as of yet, working. “What is his name?”
                  “Tolliver. He’s an Englishman. From Cambridge. First name David. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of him?” she asked.
                  “Tolliver?” I tossed the name about in my mind for a moment before replying, “No. Never heard of him. Any word on the apprentice?” I tried feeling around my surroundings, hoping that Shred had not changed any positions of his furniture.
                  “None. Whoever he is, he’s new enough that no one’s heard anything about him.”  Joy moved to help me navigate, but I waved her off.
    “Nah, please. Just going to the bathroom.”  I made found the wall and traced my hand along it, putting my other hand out to count the doorways until I would reach the washroom on my right. Joy, I could hear, followed me. I closed the door and fumbled at the nobs of the faucet, trying to wash my face and remove the salve they had applied to my eyes. I didn’t have to actually use the toilet, but I sat down anyway just in case.
    I washed my hands and open the door.
    “Anyway,” Joy was there, waiting, “whatever happened at that house was bad. Horribly bad. Mercury wasn’t the only one to show up, apparently.”
    I stepped out into the hallway, hoping that she would dodge my advance. “How do you know someone else showed up?” Even though it was not at all feasible to have stayed at the house in Northampton, I lamented not being able to see—or have Joy see—what happened next.
    “That was one of the calls Shred made.” He voice was full of—glee, was it?  “His lawyer actually lives on that street. The lady didn’t know what she was looking at, but she told him a bunch of people were hanging around that house and that it looked like a funeral.”
    That caught me off guard. “A funeral?”
    “Like, not a real funeral, but there were five or six older people milling about, looking forlorn.” Joy was following too close behind me. I stopped short and she bumped into me. “Ha. Nice one. I’ll stop hovering.”
    “Thank you.” I did not know what else Shred was planning to tell me, but some pieces were already starting to fall into place. I had a suspicion who the five or six people Shred’s lawyer saw were. What’s more, I was even starting to gather an idea of what was the nature of the pyramid taken from my vault, though I was not even close to any level of certainty. Sometimes strange things, once they had a chance to accumulate and collect, had a way of making sense in a way.
    “Anyway, I don’t know how long you heard us talking, but we’ve taken care of your eyes. Your skin has healed up perfectly. No scars.” Joy stood over me, hovering in the same way she just said she would not. “I think you should wear the bandages for at least a few days. Your vision should be fine after that.”
    I was immensely relieved, but perhaps not as much as I would have liked to be. There was simply too much else going on, too much weighing on me to feel at ease. One of the last things I remembered before going to sleep was Joy saying she was going to be my apprentice. Lying there when I first woke up confirmed that that conversation wasn’t a dream and had, in fact, taken place. One of the other sources of apprehension then was that once enticed with the prospect of having her as my apprentice, I was afraid that the moment my sight returned or if the events of the future become too taxing or dangerous, she would give up and return to being a college student. The thought of sharing my burden with someone else could be a source of tremendous relief, but the fear of losing it essentially cancelled it out.
    “I’m loading up my van now,” I heard Shred saying from the front door.  It must have been warm enough to have the screen door open. Or maybe, he just wanted to be able to shout