Running behind this morning. Here is a snippet. Got to run to work.
The Keeper of Records turned to me. He was of average height, slim, and old. Time had wrinkled his brown skin, carving a roadmap of years around his eyes and mouth, and turned his hair white. He wore a brown three-piece suit with a copper and black bow tie. His expression was always welcoming, but his eyes, guarded by large glasses, stopped you in your tracks. So dark, they appeared black, they sparkled like two pieces of polished black jade.
“Prime Baylor,” the Keeper said, “it’s been so long. What a pleasure to see you again.”
Mom looked at me. Her eyes were wide.
“Good afternoon, Keeper. Thank you for keeping my mother company. We are so sorry to trouble you.”
The Keeper smiled. His teeth were white and sharp. “It’s not a bother. We’re always happy to visit with House Baylor, aren’t we, Michael?”
Michael emerged from the shadows. He didn’t stride out, he congealed, like some mythical wraith coalescing from darkness. It was probably my imagination, and he must have walked out of some niche between the bookshelves, but one moment it was just the four of us, and then suddenly there were five.
Michael nodded. In his mid-twenties, he wore a black suit with a white shirt that set off his bronze skin. His hair was black and cut short with just enough length on top to keep it from being a buzz cut. Black and grey tribal tattoos swirled over the exposed skin of his hands and neck. His face was handsome, with what people called “good bones,” and his eyes had an odd color, a rich, light hazel, almost yellow when the light caught his irises.
The Keeper turned to Cornelius. “It is wonderful to see you again, Significant Harrison.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Cornelius said. “It’s been a long time since my trials.”
“Fifteen years, three months, and fourteen days. Should you wish to revisit your certification, our doors are always open.”
Cornelius drew back slightly. “That won’t be necessary.”
“As you prefer.”