The Age of Aquarius

Chapter eleven

Kimaris frowned as he walked up to the gate, grabbing onto the laminated sign that had been tied to the bars. "It's closed for refurbishment," he grumbled, reading over the words. "Someone finally bought the place to do it up."

"We could just go up anyway," Gremory suggested, peering over his shoulder to read the note too. "I doubt anyone would stop us, or that they pay the workers enough to care."

The two of them considered the idea, gently tugging on the chain that was wound around the two halves of the gate.

Movement from the tiny building beside them caught Bonnie's eye and when beady ones met her own, she quickly moved across the road.

"Um, guys," she whispered, plastering a fake smile onto her lips. "Stop doing that."

The two men quickly whipped around as the door to the building opened, revealing a middle-aged man in a knitted sweater, peering at the group.

"Mornin', can I help ye?" he asked with a friendly smile that contrasted the guttural tones of his voice, his hand resting on the wood.

"We were wondering if we could get up to the house," Gremory said dramatically, in an accent that was nowhere near to his own and more suited the deep south of the United States. "We were hoping to get a peek while we were here visiting."

"I'm affa sorry," the man replied, a true look of disappointment on his features. "But it's closed tae visitors. All you'd see up there the noo is a work site even if I did let ye up."

The mans brows crumpled as he looked at Kimaris who had almost pushed his face fully through the bars, clearly trying to see further than what was possible.

"What happened?" Bonnie asked, pulling his attention to her as she shot Gremory a look of confusion but joined in with the personas he'd created.

"Ach, somebody set fire tae it—again, for the third time," he explained with a sigh, rubbing a hand across his fuzzy beard. "I've telt them it'll just keep happenin', because the spirits dinnae want it fixed, but naebody will listen to me."

The spirits?

"What kind of spirits?"

"Well, if ye ask me, I ken stories aboot these sorta things and—"

"Were all the outbuildings set on fire?" Kimaris asked bluntly, stopping Bonnie from asking more questions. The old man stared at the back of his head, bewildered while Gremory threw him a glare, clearly not pleased that he wasn't joining in with the accents. "The one to the northeast that used to be a stable, and the one further up the hill that used to store grain. Are they being fixed too?"

Kimaris had been here before.

"Naw, just the main building mostly. The outbuildings havny been touched fur at least half a decade. I'hink there's plans t'get tae them eventually, but it's far doon the line." The man stepped out from the doorway, suspicion lining his words as he crossed his arms, trying to get a better look at Kimaris. "Where'd y'guys say ye'd came from again?"

While Bonnie and Gremory's mouths floundered over something to say, Kimaris spun around with a grin, finally removing his head from the gate.

"The United States," he answered vaguely, stepping towards the man. "We're part of an international occult group that travels round finding places of relevance to our history."

At this, the man stopped being curious and retreated back into the doorway he'd come from, his eyes now wide with something resembling fear. Bonnie's own grew with him, and Gremory tried to stifle a laugh, covering it with a cough into his arm.