Page 4 of Enslaved By Magic

Chapter Two

(Now)

A degree in art history was apparently not the most lucrative of choices, and, although Luke still loved art and was glad he’d followed his passion for it in school, it would be nice if he could find a job using that degree. Since graduating with his master’s, he’d bounced through a series of minimum wage jobs that barely paid the rent, and only because he lived extremely cheaply.

Well, that and his side job, of course. Today, he was driving far out into the country to hit an estate sale, and he was a little worried he was going to be wasting his time. These days most sales of this type had online pages dedicated to showing off the best items up for grabs, along with detailed histories of the house and contents. But this time, he’d just seen a last-minute listing that had popped up on social media.

He really couldn’t afford to waste the gas, but the ad had promised amazing deals and swore everything had to go immediately. If true, he might just be able to net a few items that would make it worth the time and travel. When he wasn’t tutoring students for low pay at the local community college or waiting tables, this was what he did. He searched junk shops, garage sales, and the occasional estate sale for antiques that had been overlooked and undervalued.

Sometimes his hunts turned up some real beauties and brought in more money than he got from his other jobs, and sometimes they were a bust. There was always an element of risk, but that was what made it fun, and when he did strike gold, he got to use his minor in marketing too—a bonus. He had a thriving online business in selling vintage and antique items, but lately he hadn’t been so lucky.

He’d just had a feeling, though, that this was going to be his day, and that was what inspired him to get up before sunrise to make the two-hour drive to the address on the advertisement. It had said it was a sale, not an auction which meant he wanted to be the first in the door. Early arrivals were essential for scooping up the best deals, and there was a lot of competition out there, so he needed to be prepared when he got there.

He’d spent an hour online the night before researching the address and looking into the history of the estate. Sometimes you could get a good idea of what the available catalogue of items would be in advance that way, and he liked to be prepared. However, this time, the details were disappointingly sparse, and he’d been left without much information.

The car hit a pothole and made a jarring, crunching sound that had him wincing. It was an unwelcome reminder he desperately needed new tires soon, and if this whole trip was a waste, he might not have a ride for much longer. Maybe it was too much of a risk this time. Good vibes aside, the little he had learned about the estate and the mansion on it hadn’t been enough to go on.

Apparently, the mansion had been empty, except for a caretaker, for over twenty years as relatives fought over the property. The original, and only, previous owner had been an odd man who hadn’t bothered to leave a will when he died. A hermit whose name would never have been found in print at all if it wasn’t for his extreme wealth and eccentricity. In the few articles he could find about the place, there had been some interesting clues that had made him curious, namely the fact that the owner had collected interesting pieces of art from around the world.

He was guessing one of the relatives had finally won the legal battle and was liquidating the contents of the house as quickly as possible. If they were in so much of a rush they weren’t bothering to have the possessions properly appraised and auctioned off, then there was a good chance there would be some real bargains to be had. That’s what he kept telling himself anyway, but as he turned down the unpaved gravel road and eased his car through the old iron gates, he was beginning to have some doubts.

The property had a distinctly rough appearance. Whatever maintenance the caretakers had been doing certainly hadn’t extended to the rusty gate or the unkempt lawn. The weeds had completely overtaken whatever grass had originally been there, and he wouldn’t be surprised to find it hadn’t been mowed in the twenty years since the owner died. The house, when he pulled up in front and parked, looked worn and weathered, though, at least the windows were intact. It was mostly stone with a slate roof, sturdy and well-built, so it seemed solid enough, despite the ominous appearance.

He was glad to see two other cars parked along the wide, wrapping driveway, or he’d have been worried he’d come to the wrong place. The house gave off an aura of abandonment, but as he got out of his car, the front door swung open and a respectable-looking woman stepped out to greet him.

“Hi there! Are you here for the sale?” she asked. The words came with a cheerful smile that flashed perfect white teeth. They stood out brilliantly against the deep brown of her skin, and there was nothing but honest welcome in that smile, so he found himself relaxing for the first time that morning.

“Yes, thank you. I saw the ad online and thought I’d check it out. Heck of a drive to get here, though,” he said.

“Ah, yeah. The former owner just lovvvved his privacy. It was one of his many quirks. Good luck for you, though,” she pointed out as she moved back and gestured for him to step inside.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he asked, wondering about the tone of her words. They sounded a bit frustrated. He hesitated, eyeing the immense doorway doubtfully before walking past her.

“Well, I don’t think you’re going to have a lot of competition. To be honest, I wasn’t given much time to prepare. It’s all been fairly sudden, and I was authorized to accept any reasonable offers, so you might just make a killing today.” She paused and gave him a rueful look. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that, but I’d hate for you to pass anything up because you think it’ll cost too much.”

He stopped in the entryway and turned slowly, barely taking in her words as his eyes widened with surprise. “It’s uh… not what I was expecting,” he admitted. The outside might have been ramshackle, but the inside was anything but. It was as though everything had been preserved perfectly. “It’s beautiful. Weird—but beautiful,” he added.

“Yeah, being out here alone has given me the jitters. The murals are so odd, but I hear Mr. Janvier was an eccentric man. I guess when you’ve got that much money, you’re allowed to be,” she said, shrugging casually, but the way her eyes darted to the walls and then away quickly made him think she was more than a little nervous about being there.

“Murals?” he asked, but there was no need for an answer. As he turned toward her, his eyes were drawn to the vivid reds and blacks of the hellish scenes depicted on the walls. Damned souls, he assumed, being tortured graphically in one scene. It was so well painted and realistic, and so disturbing at the same time. “Oh, right,” he said.

“Oh, that’s mild. Look up,” she said, pointing.

He let his head fall back and stared at the high ceiling for only a few seconds before he had to look away. The chaos and terror of those scenes would probably haunt him when he went to bed that night, he thought, shuddering. “Wow. That’s really… wow.”

“Exactly.” She cleared her throat. “You can understand, well, with the drive and the uh, décor, this hasn’t been my favorite job, but I’m glad at least one person showed up!” And she did sound glad, almost enthusiastic in fact.

He looked around, nodding. “I can see your point. It must have been unsettling being in here alone,” he said.

She laughed and there was a touch of anxiety in the pitch. “Well, there are the caretakers, of course,” she said after a hesitation. “But they live in the old carriage house around back and don’t like to come in here. They tell me that they come over a couple days a month for cleaning and maintenance but otherwise stay out. I can’t say I blame them, but you’d think living out here so long they’d have gotten used to it.” She tipped her head back, eyed the disturbing ceiling again, adding, “Then again…” She clearly didn’t think those pictures were something anyone could get used to and he agreed.

“But they’ll be here to help. In fact, they’re somewhere in the house now doing some cleaning, I think, so you might get a chance to see them,” she said.

He pointed over his shoulder toward the front of the house. “It doesn’t look like they do a lot of caretaking, to be honest.” The long-overgrown lawn, the pitted road badly in need of new gravel, and the rusted iron gate hanging crookedly from one hinge all spoke of a home that had been neglected. Still, looking around the inside, he didn’t see nearly the same signs of wear.

“Yes, I thought the same. It looks like a jungle out there, but apparently they are acting on standing orders from their previous employer, and no one else really had the authority to countermand them,” she said with a shrug. “I guess he wasn’t one to pay for nice landscaping and thought leaving it like that kept his relations from trying to visit.”

“I can see where that would put people off visiting,” he agreed with a wry twist of his mouth. He’d almost turned around for that exact reason, but he was glad he hadn’t given up. No competition and any reasonable offer sounded just about perfect for someone with low funds. He was once again hopeful he might find some real treasures.

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