House of Salt and Sorrows

by Erin A. Craig

  “Just my pride.”

  He helped me back to my feet, and with a teasing smile, I offered my arm to him as a gentlemen might to a lady. He rubbed his bruised hip, then accepted with a snort of laughter.

  “Have you enjoyed the day?” I asked as we walked the street, trying to find the quickest route back to the town square. I’d spent most of the time with my sisters. Whenever I snuck a look toward Cassius, he’d been in deep conversation with Regnard or Papa.

  “Very much. It’s quite different from the festivals I’m used to.”

  “I never asked what you are…Who do you—”

  “The People of the Stars,” he supplied, amusement written across his face as I struggled with my question. “Versia.”

  “The Night Queen.” I looked up at the sky, the stars dazzling across the inky expanse. “It seems like she’s enjoying the festivities as well.”

  “I think so.”

  “Where will you go after Churning is over?”

  “I still have a bit of work in Selkirk, clearing out the last of my father’s papers, settling some of his final business, but I haven’t given much thought to what happens after that. Walter left me some money and his house. Perhaps I’ll stay there, learn to sail, learn to fish, or—”

  “It sounds wonderful,” I interrupted, picturing a small house and dock, quiet mornings waking before the sun, readying the nets for the day’s work. Real work.

  One of Cassius’s eyebrows quirked up. “Stinky fish bait and traps?”

  “You have the whole world open to you. That’s wonderful.”

  He studied me. “What are your grand dreams, Annaleigh? If you could go anywhere, do anything you wanted, what would it be?”

  “There’s a lighthouse out to the west. We call her Old Maude. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to live there, to keep her clean and take care of the light. When the apprentice position came up, oh, how I hoped and prayed it would be mine. But Papa sent Fisher instead.”

  “The whole world is open to you and you want to hop a few islands over?” Though his question was clearly meant to tease me, true curiosity shone in his eyes.

  “I’d never want to leave the sea. It’s my home.”

  We turned down another street and heard the murmurs of a crowd. A small stand at the far end of the road sold hot chocolate and tea. Steam rose from the little clapboard stall, a welcome sight as the night grew colder.

  “Would you like one?” Cassius asked, rummaging through his pocket for coins.

  “Please.”

  “There’s no seaweed or anything like that in this, is there?” he joked with the man, pointing toward the copper pots. “Just chocolate?”

  “Best in all the islands,” the vendor boasted with a grin.

  “Excellent. We’ll take two.”

  “Thank you,” I said, accepting the tin mug.

  Cassius took a sip and made a face. “I can still taste salt. Does it go into everything here?” The vendor laughed, and he tried it again. “With the caramel, it’s not as bad, but seriously! In every drink!”

  We wandered into the park, weaving our way through the ice sculptures until we found a quiet section with an open bench. It was right beside a flotilla of sea turtles, the ice tinted green and lit with blue light.

  “Those are my favorites.”

  “I know,” he said, taking another sip of the chocolate.

  I studied him. “Do you?” I thought back over every conversation we’d had but couldn’t recall mentioning sea turtles before.

  His face froze for a split second before breaking into a smile. “Verity told me. Earlier this afternoon—at the kite contest. She’s quite enamored of her older sister, you know.”

  I traced the rim of my cup thoughtfully. He’d been talking to Verity about me! It pleased me more than I cared to admit. “I’m awfully fond of her as well.”

  “I can see why. She’s charming. All your sisters are. But I ought to tell you…” He reached out and tapped my thumbnail. It was a strangely intimate touch, drawing me closer to him. “I think I like you best of all.”

  I couldn’t help my heated grin as his words washed over me, pulling me under and heading straight for my heart. “You do? I was certain…” I trailed off, not wanting to admit my worries from the night before.

  He nodded seriously. “Oh yes. Best of all.” He tapped my thumb again, lingering for a moment. “No house or title or lands could ever possibly persuade me otherwise.”

  Ashamed at being so easily read, I felt my cheeks color. “But last night you said…”

  “I felt terrible about that! I saw how the others were salivating over Highmoor and wanted to make a joke—not an especially good one—but you scurried off before we could laugh at it.”

  I looked down at my lap, squirming. “It’s just that so many others are after exactly that. It was easy to believe you were as well.”

  “Oh, Annaleigh, forgive me, please. I hate to think I upset you.” He cupped my cheek, his fingertips dancing across my jawline and sending the most delicious flutters down into my chest. “Especially when it’s so patently untrue. I meant what I said—best of all.”

  My mouth was too dry to speak, so I bobbed my head, accepting his apology.

  Cassius turned back to the statue, smiling and utterly at ease. “Now, tell me about these turtles of yours.”

  I sifted through my memories, trying to grab a bright, shining one with all my sisters together, happy and whole.

  “It was the summer before Mama passed away. She was pregnant with Verity. We liked to go down to the beach to watch the baby sea turtles hatch and make their way to the sea. That year, one of the nests didn’t hatch with the rest. A big frost came in early. Usually hatchlings head straight for water, but the chill must have disoriented them. They went in the wrong direction, fighting their way up the sand dune. No matter how many times we’d turn them around, up the beach they went. My sisters eventually wanted to head home. The wind cut through our dresses. It felt more like November than August.

  “Nine of us were playing on the beach that day—Mercy and Honor were too little. They all marched back to the house without a second glance, tired of trying to help creatures who didn’t seem to want saving.

  “I gathered the hatchlings up in my skirt, like a basket, and carried them home. There were so many of them, and they kept trying to fling themselves free. I filled a bathtub with seawater and put them all in it.” My voice was distant, caught in the memories. “The maids were furious I’d brought the little turtles in, but Mama told them to leave me be. She’d come downstairs to watch them flip about in the water, gaining their strength.”

  Cassius shifted on the bench, angling his body more toward me instead of facing out. “How long did you keep them there?”

  “Nearly a week. I fed them seaweed and little fish eggs. When the weather turned warm again, I brought them back to the beach.”

  “And they all raced for the water?” he guessed.

  I’d known I couldn’t keep them, they were wild and meant to be in the sea, but how I hoped one or two might linger behind, still needing me. “Every last one. They were so strong.” I smiled, remembering how quickly their little fins flipped forward, eager to meet the ocean. “I’d sat with them in the bathtub, kicking and churning the water for hours at a time.”

  As he laughed, his hand fell on mine. It happened casually, as if it were perfectly natural for our hands to be in such intimate contact. “Why?”

  It took everything in my power to drag my eyes from the knot our hands formed. “They needed to learn to swim with the waves.”

  A flicker of hope burned deep inside me, sparked by the friction of his thumb across my palm, like a bit of flint against a pile of kindling.

  “Annaleigh Thaumas, brave hero to sea turtles great and small,”
he murmured, and then tilted my chin and kissed me.

  Though I’d never been kissed before, I’d daydreamt about what it would be like, the meeting of two pairs of lips. Would there be exploding fireworks or a fluttering rush of wings unseen? I was certain Eulalie’s romance novels trumped up such contact to turn pages. Surely it was nothing more than the brush of flesh on flesh, like a pat on the back or the shaking of hands.

  This was so much better.

  His mouth was warm against mine and softer than I’d ever imagined a man’s could be. My skin sizzled as his hands cupped my cheeks and he pressed a kiss to my forehead before returning to my mouth. I dared to bring my fingers up to explore his jawline. It was rough with stubble and felt so completely different from me that I ran my fingertips over it, memorizing the lines.

  Finally, I pulled away, giddy and breathless.

  “Your blushes are so very beautiful.” He grinned and kissed my cheek, rubbing his fingers over its rosy glow.

  “So are yours,” I murmured, then shook my head, my cheeks deepening in color. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, I—”

  He looked pleased. “Have I flustered you?”

  “A little,” I admitted. I shifted on the bench, allowing the cool space between us to clear my mind.

  “Oh, look, the fireworks are starting,” he said, his knee pressed into mine as he looked up.

  I followed his gaze, searching the sky, but it remained dark. “Where? I don’t see any—”

  And then he kissed me again.

  I sat up abruptly, startled from sleep. Blinking groggily, I pushed aside my hair, my bedclothes, and the sleep from my eyes. Memories of last night came floating back to me through a deep fog. The Churning Festival…the play and sculptures…Cassius kissing me…

  On the boat ride back, snow had begun to fall, more and more heavily. Cassius and I used the cold as an excuse to sit too near to one another, our knees pressed daringly close. By the time we reached Salten, the sky had whipped into a cold fury, blasting the island with howling mistrals. Before I went to bed, I watched waves crash against the cliffs like battering rams.

  A shriek pulled me from my heated thoughts. Shouts followed, then a keening wail, like an animal in torment. What on earth was going on? Wrapping my gray robe around me, I wandered out into the hall. The sounds came from downstairs. I broke into a headlong sprint, recognizing Lenore’s wails.

  “They’re gone,” she cried as I entered her room. “They’re gone, Annaleigh!”

  Camille and Hanna were already there, talking over each other with such force, I couldn’t make sense of it. Lenore flung herself into my arms, her cold, wet cheeks pressing into mine. Her body was a chaotic swirl of flowing hair and layers of ripped nightgown.

  “What happened? Where are Ligeia and Rosalie?” I ran my hand over her hair, trying to soothe her. My fingers caught on something snagged in her locks. Working it free, I found a small twig. Red berry buds dotted the little brown branch.

  “Were you outside?” I asked, showing her the twig.

  “I don’t know, I don’t know,” she howled as Hanna raced off to find Papa. “But they’re gone!”

  I barely missed being hit by her flailing arms. “Camille, what happened?”

  She helped me guide Lenore to her bed. “From what I can make out, she woke up and Rosalie and Ligeia weren’t in their beds. She’s been raving ever since.”

  “It’s the curse!” Lenore sobbed, muffling her cries in the pillows.

  I rubbed her back. “Couldn’t they be down at breakfast? Or out on a morning walk? Has anyone checked?”

  Camille shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t get anything coherent out of her.”

  “Lenore, you need to calm down.” I kept my voice firm but soft, pushing back a quiver of fear at the mention of the curse. I couldn’t bury any more sisters.

  “They’re dead. I know they are!”

  “Tell us what happened. Did you see something?”

  She shook her head, miserable, and flung back the duvet I’d wrapped around her, eyes feverishly bright. “I’m them. They’re me. And they’re gone. I just feel it!”

  I raised my hands, showing her I meant no harm. “It’s okay. We’ll find them. Do you know where they might have gone?”

  Lenore sat up straight, making eye contact with Camille. “She does.” Her voice was dangerously laced with accusation.

  Camille’s eyes flashed up to the ceiling as a look of rage passed over her. “She’s hysterical.”

  I pushed a lock of hair from Lenore’s face, stroking her cheek. “What do you mean by that? Tell me, Lenore.” She fell back, sobbing, and I suddenly guessed her meaning. I turned on Camille. “Did you go out dancing last night?”

  “What? No! We got back from Astrea so late, and there was the storm. No one would want to go out in that.”

  Lenore’s jaw quivered. “They did!”

  My eyes darted back and forth as they hurled volleys at each other.

  “I had nothing to do with that.”

  “You told them where the ball would be!”

  Camille’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “I didn’t.”

  “I saw you!”

  She turned to me. “Annaleigh, I swear I don’t know what she’s talking about. I went straight to bed last night.”

  Papa entered the room, bringing all talk of dancing to an end.

  “The house is in total chaos. Servants are running around in tears, wailing about the triplets. What is going on?” He spotted Lenore. “Where are your sisters?”

  “Rosalie and Ligeia weren’t in their beds when Lenore woke up,” I interceded, to keep Lenore from relapsing. I pulled him to the side, trying not to recoil—he still smelled like a tavern.

  “She thinks they’re missing.”

  Papa groaned, wiping a hand over his brow.

  “They’ve got to be somewhere. I’ll start the search. Perhaps you could join us…after some coffee? They’ll be found soon.”

  I would make sure of it.

  * * *

  Hours passed as the house was searched without finding a trace of my sisters.

  “We’ve looked through the entire hedge maze, my lady,” Jules reported, coming in from the blizzard. Sterland and Fisher were with him. “We found nothing.”

  As news of my sisters’ disappearance spread throughout Highmoor, our guests volunteered to help in the search.

  “Where could they be?” Morella asked. She’d holed up in the Blue Room, entertaining the youngest girls and staying warm by a roaring fire. She looked pale and drawn. I worried what the day’s stress was doing to her and the babies.

  I crossed the maze off the list of places to be searched. “Has anyone tried the crypt?”

  “There’s at least a foot of snow outside,” Sterland said. “We would have seen their tracks.”

  “The wind could have blown them away. I think we should search it. Tell Papa where I’ve gone.”

  Cassius entered the room, snow dusting his shoulders. He’d been out searching the stables. His cheeks were bright red, burned from the cold and the winds. My swell of hope crashed as he shook his head.

  “You said you’re going out?”

  I nodded. “To the family crypt.”

  “I’ll come with you. The storm is picking up. I can’t in good conscience let you go out alone. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  All morning long, I’d avoided him, trying not to think about last night, about our kiss. I needed to stay focused. But he was right. If I went out in the storm on my own, there’d be another search party just for me.

  “I need my cloak,” I said, scurrying up the stairs. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  His footsteps trailed after me. As our eyes met, I felt my jaw tremble.

  “How are you?”
/>   His voice was low and warm and threatened to undo the hardened facade I’d tried to maintain all morning. I pushed a tear from my eye, as if it was no more than a speck of dust. “Today is most decidedly not about me.”

  He bounded up the stairs between us. “You look exhausted. Let me search the crypt.”

  I kept climbing. “You don’t know how to get there.”

  “Send a servant with me. We’ll be there in no time.” His fingers brushed the hollow of my back. “Annaleigh…”

  I stepped onto the landing. “I need to do this, Cassius. I can’t stay here looking through the same rooms over and over while everyone else is out searching. I feel like I’m going mad. Let me do this.”

  “We’ll find them,” he promised, squeezing my hand. “There must be a room we missed, or perhaps they’re playing a prank?”

  I shook my head. “They wouldn’t do that. They know what we’d think.”

  Cassius stopped at the portrait just across from my bedroom, studying it. It had been painted before the triplets were born, back when there were just six of us.

  “Those are my older sisters.”

  “Ava, Octavia, Elizabeth, and Eulalie.”

  I paused. “How did you know their names?”

  He froze, his blue eyes dark. For a moment, he looked worried, caught in something. “On the plaque.”

  I squinted at the little bit of brass under the picture frame. I couldn’t make out their names in the dim light. “There were twelve of us originally. But one by one, we’ve been picked off. The villagers think there’s a curse on our house. So you see, Rosalie and Ligeia would never pretend to go missing. It would be too cruel.”

  “So much loss,” he said, his eyes focused on the painting.

  I turned away from my sisters’ gazes. “Oh.”

  “What is it?”

  I studied the door handle. “I’m certain I left my door shut.”

  But it was now several inches ajar. I pushed it wide open, hoping to find Ligeia and Rosalie inside. When I spotted a dark form near my bureau, a startled cry burst from my throat.