Chapter Nine - The Dread Poet

"You think you're being clever," a voice, low and gravely, called behind Balthazar. He was nearly at the house, but hadn't yet decided how he was going to approach the secret entrance he'd already found. He didn't want to use the same way twice. Now there was someone who had definitely seen him. He took a gamble and guessed who it was.

"Coleridge?" he asked.

"Twain," the voice replied. "Actually, I'm not very certain on that. The mind is not as sharp as it once was. You're probably wondering if I knew both personally."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Balthazar said. "Do you actually prefer to be called the Dread Poet, or William Tekamthi?"

"Neither," Tekamthi said, "but we don't always get what we want, so it doesn't matter. Follow me."

Balthazar became aware that Tekamthi had turned around, and he decided to take the advice, as there was little reason to do otherwise. He now found himself retracing his steps, away from 22 Culver St, away from the last means he'd taken to the hatch in the woods. "Do you have a better way, or are you leading me away?"

"Maybe you are more clever than you seem," Tekamthi said. "But no, I am not trying to misguide you. There is a better way than the one you found. The hatch is the exit. I am going to show you the entrance. Perhaps you noticed the shed at the end of the street, at the corner?"

"I did, actually," Balthazar said. "I used it to situate myself. Didn't need the street sign on the second pass because of it."

"There's always a reason these old sheds are kept around," Tekamthi said. He walked with a slight limp, Balthazar noticed. "Under a different name, I maintain it for the city. Certainly no other foreseeable reason to keep it around. The neighbors think it's an eyesore. I would agree. Maybe I ought to touch it up."

"But it would reveal your continuing use," Balthazar said. "The city doesn't think a current resident maintains it."

"Clever, yes," Tekamthi said. They had already reached it. "Of course, local boys are always playing around in it. No one to tell them otherwise. They would never discover its secret, Balthazar."

"You know my name," Balthazar said. Tekamthi was headed directly toward the entrance, but Balthazar was hesitating.

"Of course I do," Tekamthi said. "Come on in. If anyone sees us, they will think someone is checking in on it, to make sure no more firecrackers have been stored there. They've been found in it before, you understand. A few have gone off."

"Your safeguards are elaborate," Balthazar said. He followed Tekamthi again, and found the shed dark inside, and not a light fixture to be found. His guide did not have a flashlight. He didn't need one. "Already you are living up to your reputation."

"You impress easily," Tekamthi said, lifting a door in the flooring, with little effort.

"You've made a few remarks of surprise in my case already," Balthazar said. "You didn't think I was clever. I seemed to prove you wrong."

"It's different," Tekamthi called, already disappearing. "Close the door behind you. It isn't a barn."

Balthazar assumed he meant the one in the floor, and not the one to the shed, which had been open when they got there, which the decay of age suggesting it had been, for a long time. Advancing blindly, he followed Tekamthi once more, and did as he was told. "Forgive me for saying so, but I fail to see the difference."

"You need wisdom, Balthazar," Tekamthi said from the darkness. "It may not be what you came to me for, but it's what you need."

"I came to you so I could find wisdom," Balthazar said. "I didn't come to be patronized. I came for information."

"You tell yourself many things," Tekamthi said. "I imagine you even believe some of it."

"We all do," Balthazar said. The floor in the corridor was not made of dirt, but concrete, and so were the walls. It was cold, in this darkness. But then, darkness and cold always went together. "That's what they call the human condition. We don't have any answers, just questions, and newer questions still."

"Oh, there are answers," Tekamthi said. "You need to be able to accept them, is all. You don't like to accept things, do you?"

"I accept what I have to," Balthazar said. The darkness, and the walk, was continuing for longer than he'd anticipated, which was uncomfortable. No light at the end of this tunnel? "I may not like it, but some things I have to accept."

"Don't kid yourself," Tekamthi said. "It's in your voice. You do like it. And you may want to stop walking, or you will walk into a wall."

Balthazar did as he was told, again. "No light in your bunker?" he asked, almost sarcastically, now that he was getting annoyed with his host.

"It comes when I need it," Tekamthi said, and evidently pulled a switch, because the light suddenly appeared, filling his bunker. Balthazar was amazed to find the cavern to be larger than he'd expected, and filled with filing cabinets. "Probably saved more scraps than I should have," his host said.

There was a cot and a table and a chair, but otherwise the space was dominated by the cabinets. "No books," Balthazar noted.

"No, no books," Tekamthi said. "In my case, I think I know as least as much as any library. At least I used to. I don't really need them. I have other concerns. I'll direct you to the notepads in some of the drawers, if you'd like, and the supply of pens in another."

"No food," Balthazar next realized.

"Not here, anyway," Tekamthi said. "Besides, I don't eat as much these days. Age can sometimes produce useful benefits."

"I hope you're writing a memoir," Balthazar said.

"Memoirs and self-help books are items of vanity," Tekamthi said. "You can learn everything you really need to know on your own, if you make the effort. Self-help is for toddlers."

"That's rather cold," Balthazar said.

"It's what you believe," Tekamthi said.

"Maybe," Balthazar said.

"Don't play those games with me," Tekamthi said. "You know and I know. It's a waste of your time. Now, you came to me, hoping to locate a man named Hopper, who rides the Traverse subway."

"You seem to know everything," Balthazar said.

"That's why you came to me," Tekamthi said. "Isn't it?"

"You tell me," Balthazar said.

"I already told you," Tekamthi said. "Play those games with someone else. Stop wasting my time, and yours. But it isn't even Hopper that you want to find. You want to find Cotton Colinaude. If you do, you want to find the Eidolon."

"The Eidolon is gone," Balthazar said. "Some people don't even think he ever actually existed. They say he was a myth. An urban legend."

"Some people are fools," Tekamthi said.

"Maybe so," Balthazar said. "You say you're through with my games. Well I'm through with yours. I don't need riddles."

"I'm not giving you riddles," Tekamthi said. "If all you see are riddles, then I can't help you."

"Fine," Balthazar said. "Which way would you like me to go?"

"You already know that," Tekamthi said. "You would give up that easily? Then you have no hope after all."

"No hope?" Balthazar said, his temper rising. "No hope? Just what is it that you know, old man? What makes you the master? What makes you so superior, that you can hold court over everyone, play games and then tell them not to do it themselves?"

"All this you practice yourself," Tekamthi said.

"I don't need this," Balthazar said.

"You will find that you do," Tekamthi said.

"Are you going to tell me how I can find Hopper?" Balthazar said.

"I can do that, if you still feel it is necessary," Tekamthi said. "I can only do it if you allow me to help you. If you allow yourself."

"I don't like to play games," Balthazar said.

"You do," Tekamthi said.

"Maybe you're right," Balthazar said.

"I am," Tekamthi said.

"All right," Balthazar said. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I like to play games. Is that so wrong? Who does it hurt?"

"You know who," Tekamthi said.

"Okay, I get it," Balthazar said.

"No, you don't," Tekamthi said. "But at least you've calmed down. At least you are thinking rationally again. You are at your best when you allow yourself to do so. Remember that. Let it be your strength. You will find that if you do, you will be better off than you are right now."

"What do you know about how I am right now?" Balthazar said, with honesty.

"It doesn't matter," Tekamthi said. "What matters is that you heed my warning. Take that seriously, and nothing else will matter. Do you understand?"

"If I said I didn't, how would you react?" Balthazar said.

"I would say that you are already on your way," Tekamthi said. "I have faith in you."

"Thanks," Balthazar said. "I really mean it. This life you live, is it what you thought it would be when you decided on it?"

"I still live it," Tekamthi said. "That is all you need to know. And this is something else you need to know: No other conversation I've had since I've taken up this life has gone like this. You should consider that a compliment."

"I suppose I do," Balthazar said. "Why would use two separate means of access, for entering and leaving this place. Isn't one good enough? Doesn't anyone suspect that the man who enters that shed, when he doesn't exit again, might be up to something?"

"My dear boy, very few people would make such an observation," Tekamthi said. "The two in this room already comprise a large percentage of those who would. But you must learn to accept this, too, not as a burden but as your role in all things. We all play roles, Balthazar. I have appreciated learning yours. You play it well."