Evelyn Klebert

Here is an excerpt from my latest novel The Sanctuary of Echoes which will be released by Cornerstone Book Publishers this spring.

It was after one o’clock before Corey returned to the mansion. Her head throbbed from the morning’s excursions. Once she’d finally managed to get Lucy around to business she’d deemed the jewel exquisite with only minor alterations necessary. It was a high grade piece of lapis lazuli flanked by very pure, quartz crystals on four sides. Geometrically it was a powerful construction. This was as Corey designed it. She knew when she held it in her hands, and  as it sent delicate frissons of energy through her skin. As much as she’d abandoned some of her gifts, this one would not be denied. The sense of touch, ability to textually feel powerful forces. But Lucy’s new acquisition was undeniably a distinctly pure jewel, lapis lazuli.
“This one is a powerfully clarifying substance.”
She remembered sitting near her father during his convalesce as his strong, capable hands passed over the unpolished chunk of mineral. As a teenager she knew he’d dabbled in the art of jewelry-making which for some seemed to be an odd hobby for such a rugged, powerful figure as was her father. But she’d never questioned it. As she’d learned long ago Clayton Knight always had distinct and usually very pragmatic reasons for everything he did.
“No doubt that was why the ancient Egyptians were so found of using it. It is a substance that inspired and yes even demanded credulity and fortitude.”
She wondered vaguely if this would prove to be an aid or a hindrance to Lucy Charbonnet. It was possible she might find the possession of it somewhat uncomfortable in the end. Lucy, she’d sensed for some time had a way of straying sometimes from the true path, and possession of this particular jewel might make this tendency a bit less simple for her.  But for Corey it was only a passing thought. It was the stone her client had requested for her amulet, complexities and all.
Corey’s last appointment had thankfully been much less problematic. It was a smaller piece, but in many ways a more satisfying commission — a necklace of black onyx for a bookstore owner downtown. “The onyx is a grounding stone, particularly helpful in deflecting the negativity of others.” The sale itself was not particularly high profit sale but she’d known the elderly owner for much of her life. An old friend of her father’s who’d always been good to them both. She remembered Mr. Palphrey and his wife at her Dad’s funeral, even then assuring her if she ever needed anything they would be glad to help. And there was one occasion long ago that she did avail herself of that kind offer. So when he’d requested that she make this special gift for his lovely wife on their forty-seventh wedding anniversary, there was no question that she would do so and at a manageable cost for them. Fortunately for Corey some of her father’s long-term investments had finally taken root a few years back leaving her financially very comfortable even after splitting the profits with Samuel, who was congenially settled on the West coast with a family of five. For her jewelry making as it had been for her father had become a bit of a hobby, something to fill the time, as she further entrenched herself in a very quiet life.
After coming home she’d only intended to sit for a few minutes in the sun room. Clearly the fatigue from the morning had insidiously slipped over her, causing her to fall into a heavy sleep. It was only the sound of the doorbell that jarred her back into consciousness, leaving her a bit dazed and disoriented when she discovered Iain waiting on her doorstep. He eyed her with a rather speculative glance. “How was your morning?” he asked as he followed her into the sun room.
“Busy,” she replied, settling in the old wicker rocker at one end of the room while trying to regroup her senses. It was essential, she’d found in dealing with him, to always have your wits about you. But as she glanced back up to him she realized he was caught in the midst of his own thoughts. He was silently and intently surveying the room around them.  And then she realized, she’d nearly forgotten about that long ago first meeting of the Marguilliers here, after the Armistead House.
He commented a bit distantly, “Hasn’t changed much.”
“No, I always liked this room the way it was so I tried to keep it the same. It’s always felt like a bit of a refuge.”
And then his dark eyes were on her, “So you needed a refuge living here?”
“Sometimes, things got a bit overwhelming at times.”
He nodded, sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of the light sofa, although the way his eyes were boring into her it felt as though he were directly in front of her. “You don’t mind living here alone?” Why did that actually sound more like an observation than a question?
“No, I don’t mind.” He was continuing to stare at her in a strange unnerving way that she could now feel all over her skin. “What is it?” she asked pointedly.
And then he replied directly but very slowly, “Who did you see today?”
Her eyes widened a bit at the unexpected question, “Why?”
“Tell me.” He said calmly.
“Just clients, I told you I had appointments.”
“More specific Corey, tell me,” a bit more insistent.
She was beginning to feel irritated, not at all liking his demanding attitude. Felt too much like he was cavalierly breaking personal boundaries. “Let’s see, I saw a little old man who owns a bookstore who wanted to give his wife a necklace for their anniversary.”
He gaze was unflinching, then he shook his head, “No not it, who else?”
“I don’t know what this. . .”
“Just tell me,” his voice was controlled but he cut her off abruptly.
“I saw an old friend. She’s a reader, palmistry, Tarot Cards. I made her an amulet.”
He nodded, “She’s a problem. It’s all over you.”
Then she stood up, “What’s all over me?”
His voice was flat as though he were a scientist observing some odd phenomena, “You’re covered in yellow.”
“Yellow? What the hell does that mean?”
He leaned back in his chair, “I see it on you, your neck, your chest, your waist. She’s trying to exert some control over you. Probably drained you a bit. Did she do a reading for you?”
She felt stunned, completely knocked out of breath at his pronouncement. “Yes, sort of.”
“Did she touch you?”
“Of course,” she stammered a bit, “she always hugs me when I get there. How can you. . .”
“I suggest you take a shower.” He cut her off again rudely.
She stared at him blankly wondering where he’d learned about all this. “When did you start reading auras?”
“We have a lot to talk about. Go shower and change your clothes. And I’d advise more limited contact with this woman. She’s a problem.”
She stood up shakily, not at all sure if she should be grateful or angry at him. “I’m not comfortable with this Iain.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I’d imagine not. But comfort yourself in knowing it’s only likely to get worse.”

copyright © 2010 Evelyn Klebert

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