Rebecca swallowed. “My duty and my pleasure.”
They moved in silence to the chapel.
Alexi had laid Jane upon the tomb of Athens’s founder, careful to keep her covered, as none of them would be able to see her face without breaking down. He held out his hand for Percy, his gaze sharpening upon the sight of her. Only when she moved to his side were their bodies able to stop shaking, each the other’s foundation. He kissed her forehead. She murmured her love and he kissed her again, a tear dripping onto her cheek.
The procession of the spirit Guards filed down into the space sacred to them all, finally released to their private destinies. The living watched. Michael reminded his companions to breathe by moving slowly past them, one by one, putting a hand to their constricted throats.
When the last of The Guard vanished into the darkness, Elijah, Josephine, Rebecca and Michael were suddenly tugged forward, something pulling from inside their bodies and snapping out of them. Wispy, shimmering forms more angel than human floated before them, nodded, blew kisses, sparkling with song and soulful splendour. These collective possessors, these Muses they’d never faced, never known as friends or personalities, only as incumbent powers, were now separate entities. Their indescribable faces full of pride, they moved close to their instruments and touched each cheek with adoration.
“With you we are greatly pleased. Now rest, beloveds,” they said. “We’re all due for a nice rest.” Then, in unison, the divinities flew ahead.
Percy expected them to duck inside the portal, but instead the quartet held out their hands just before it. The portal snapped shut, and the Muses sighed with weary relief. They wanted no part of the Whisper-world, it seemed. They did not suit, Percy admitted. So it was no surprise when the four heavenly forms flew back over The Guard’s heads and followed the same course as the Phoenix fire, on toward the centre of the building, divine friends intending to rest together once more, settling back into the stalwart bricks of Athens Academy.
The school chapel sat white and quiet. The amber stained-glass angels along the wall had lost their ethereal glow and looked now like average windows. The silence was, to Percy, after all the raucous spiritual noise, deafening.
Alexi waved a tired gesture toward the altar. One candle sputtered to a low flame, but that was it. He stared at his hand.
Tensing, he cast that powerful arm forward again, expecting the portal to their sacred space to open again as it always had under his command. The altar remained a plain space bathed in white cloth, nothing supernatural about it.
“They’re gone. Does that mean we are finished?” Michael breathed.
“I…” Rebecca searched her own mind. “I don’t have my library. My mind doesn’t have its resources.”
“Damn,” Elijah muttered. “It will be so much more difficult to get away with things.”
Josephine smirked, but then suddenly her eyes widened. “I wonder if the British Museum will take down my art. Will its protective charms have worn off?”
Alexi pursed his lips. “You spend your lives complaining about the Work, and now, when you’re released—”
“Well, I complain about you to no end, Alexi. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t miss the very hell out of you if you were gone. It is the way of love,” Elijah said, his brow furrowing.
Rebecca shook her head. “We’re such mortals in the end. Never satisfied. But you have your café, Josie, and your art. Michael, the church. Elijah, your…”
“Wealth and ill manners,” he was quick to offer. “Outlasting even the very face of death. Oh, and I have Josie. That’s something, I suppose.”
She swatted happily at his shoulder.
“Yes.” Rebecca nodded. She turned to Alexi and looked him in the eye. “And you, Alexi, have Percy, this school, and…your child. Congratulations.”
Alexi drew Percy close. Percy opened her mouth to offer Rebecca her blessings, but something in the headmistress’s expression stilled her.
“I…” Rebecca said. Her hand moved unconsciously toward Michael. Staring down at it, he blushed. While his gift might have vanished, his smile was still magic, and he reached out for her. Rebecca seemed to come to herself, though, as if she’d forgotten she was not alone. She cleared her throat. “I have the blessed bricks of Athens.”
Her eyes flickered toward Jane’s draped body. Her hand did not make contact with Michael’s; instead, she moved inexorably toward the body, her face betraying more emotion than she’d ever before let show.
“And Jane has…” Josephine tried, her voice breaking.
“The hand of her longtime love, and the peace of eternal life,” Michael spoke up. He’d followed Rebecca a few paces but respectfully kept his distance.
They all stared at the black-draped body atop the antechamber tomb. Powers or no, spirits or no, that their living circle was incomplete was an irrevocable fact. Rebecca placed a hand on either side of Jane’s covered head, and her tall spine bent, weighted, and shuddered as silent tears poured down her face. “Dear God,” she gasped to the body, her shaking hand hovering over the Irishwoman’s head as if wanting to touch but not wanting to feel the solidity of death beneath her fingertips. “Dear God, it should have been me.”
There was a terrible silence. Everyone stood stunned. Michael clenched his fists, his hopeful face stricken. He stepped toward her. “Rebecca, you mustn’t—”
She snapped jarringly into her usual stiff pose, clapped her hands together and swiftly wiped her eyes. “I think we ought to clean the auditorium,” she said, her head high, crossing between them and toward the door. “And then I wouldn’t mind a drink.”
Deep below London, a few clusters of bones still bobbed along sewer eddies, unfortunate escapees that hadn’t gone unnoticed by all Londoners. Amid small remembrances and other scraps of sentiment, a few sealed jars, small and round, floated out along the Thames. Their contents hissed and rattled.
Surging onward into the estuary, the jars swept out into the North Sea and, facing the English Channel, bobbed onward toward the shores of France, gaining momentum.
EPILOGUE
Seven months later
Percy sat in a tall wicker chair and looked out at her lush and immaculate summer garden. She’d roused it from weeds to glory with uncanny skill, as if the plants sprouted from her very touch.
The birds in the bushes were nearly as raucous as the assembled company. Alexi was fussing by her side, arranging pillows and setting still more food upon the tray beside her. Smiling up at him, her white-blue eyes blinked from beneath her wide hat. She tried to adjust forward, but her abdomen was round and huge beneath her flowing gown and she chuckled, for she couldn’t truly move with any amount of grace.
“What do you need?” Alexi asked.
“Nothing, love, I’m just trying to get a better look at our friends.”
He eased her forward, and they gazed at the assembled company, hand in hand. Josephine sat on the lap of Lord Withersby in a fine dress that nearly swallowed him with its absurd poufs, eagerly sharing the ways in which she was shocking high society while cultivating their secret obsession with her. On the garden bench opposite, Michael was close at Rebecca’s side as she smiled, absently fiddling with the ring on her finger.
Alexandra Rychman’s wheelchair sat beside the Withersbys, and she was placing bets on which members of parliament or royalty would proposition Josephine first. Lord Withersby was adding handsomely to the pot, delighted by the game.
The Rychman estate had seen more activity in the past seven months than it had in Alexi’s lifetime. The entire east wing was opened up and refreshed, and Alexandra had been moved into it; more staff had been hired to deal with the growing needs of a growing family, and there were weekly dinners with friends, teachers and even students of Athens. Marianna and Edward, of course, hadn’t been left out. Thankfully, Marianna did not recall anything of what happened prior at that estate, or of spectral war. Percy was only too happy to assure her that her related dreams were n
othing more than nightmares.
A sturdy woman stepped from the French doors and hovered over Percy anxiously.
“Yes, Mrs. Wentworth, what’s troubling you now?” Percy looked up with a grin. “I swear, between you and Alexi, I’ve no chance to fuss over myself. You’ve anticipated me before I even think of a need.”
“I just…I just don’t know about all this activity,” she said, refreshing Percy’s tea. “It’s too much for a woman in your condition. You realize women of your station go away and weather their months in fine country cottages, relaxed and quiet. They’re certainly not seen in this time—”
“But she’s so beautiful, everyone should see her!” Alexi cried, kissing her slightly plumped cheeks, which blushed as his lips touched them.
Mrs. Wentworth folded her arms. “Just when I thought the lot of you were attempting to act civilized. After twenty years. It does make a woman wonder. What took Lord Withersby so long to take a wife? And what on earth does his family say? Josephine is lovely, but, goodness, it couldn’t be a stranger pair to make a social call, especially considering his station. Now Mrs. Carroll there, that was quite the shock. I’d long given up hope for the headmistress. They’re sweet, Michael and she…”
“Yes, that,” Percy said pointedly, staring at Rebecca and Michael with a smile. Marlowe the cat lay curled at Rebecca’s feet. “Those two are a story in and of themselves. Not without divine intervention. I’d say it was worthy of Dickens, wouldn’t you, husband?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.
Alexi smirked. “‘Twas a Christmas miracle, indeed.”
Mrs. Wentworth blinked. “But why ever did you all wait so long? Of course, you, Professor, if you’ll forgive me…You I’d written off ages ago!”
“And I didn’t make the proper social match either, now, did I?” Alexi said, his hands fingering the pearlescent braid down Percy’s shoulder.
“Oh! But Percy, she’s—why, a king would take her as his own if he got to know her dear and precious heart! But the rest of your…”
“‘Baffling bohemian set,’ I believe you once called us,” Percy offered.
“Percy was a particular inspiration,” Alexi offered. “That dear, precious heart of hers allowed everyone to at last open their eyes. We saw love staring us in the face.” He drew his finger down her cheek and smiled in a way that made her heart skip.
“Be all of that as it may,” Mrs. Wentworth continued. Alexi rolled his eyes, but she was unperturbed. “Professor, don’t you think your wife would best be somewhere quiet and restful instead of weathering those howls of Lord Withersby and Mr. Carroll? Your dear sister Alexandra and I could give Percy good quiet company just an hour north. That way she wouldn’t be excitable with all this entertaining—”
“We don’t make Percy excitable while entertaining. That’s why we have you!” Alexi stated, blinking up at her. “I do hope you’ve enjoyed your raise.”
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir, you were always generous and then some. And do forgive me, Professor, I know you see things in a way that no one else I’ve ever met does.”
“Why, thank you,” Alexi said.
“And I’m not saying I know what’s best for Mrs.—”
Percy chuckled. “My dearest Mrs. Wentworth. I grew up a lonely orphan in a quiet convent. All I ever wanted in life was a family filling my home with living, mortal sound. I never dreamed I’d have a husband, much less such a striking one, and I daresay I can’t go without his company, or these howls of laughter, for even the length of a pregnancy.” She gestured Mrs. Wentworth closer. “You see,” she murmured conspiratorially, “there was a very special and very secret duty that the lot of us had to keep. Dangerous. Elite. But we’ve done our service well, and have been rewarded with a…retirement. And so we’re all making up for a deal of lost time. We deserve it.”
She stared up with great gravity and Mrs. Wentworth’s eyes widened, putting her hands to her lips. “Oh! Surely my lady means the Crown! You’ve been serving Her Majesty as spies, haven’t you?”
“Something of the sort.” Percy smiled.
“And if you tell anyone,” Alexi said, “we’ll have to dispatch of you. So please keep running this estate as well as you do, and we’ll live in it as we see fit.”
Mrs. Wentworth straightened herself, her bosom puffed out with pride. “Indeed. Professor. My dear lady.” She gave them both a salute and exited, head held high.
Percy put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She turned to Alexi. “I’m sorry if I said something I oughtn’t, but she would drive me mad.”
Alexi grinned. “It’s all right. We can say anything we like now that we’re powerless. People saw bones choking out of London sewers, but what can we do? Children in hospital wards have been seeing an angel who looks suspiciously like Jane, but what can we do? Our little clan is finally living life. What else can we do?” He threw his hands jovially in the air.
She reached out to draw him into a kiss. He slid his chair closer, took one of her hands in his and placed his other hand on her womb. “You don’t mind that I’m no longer filled with mysterious power?” he asked.
While his tone was disinterested, Percy knew he was desperate for reassurance. While his life had lost its previous meaning, the life of a husband and father would resonate with a joy the Grand Work could never offer.
She snickered. “You don’t mind that I’m not actually a goddess?”
Alexi shook his head. “I may still call you one, though.”
“And I still think you’re full of power.”
His chiseled lips pursed in supreme satisfaction.
Percy leaned back in her chair, breathing deeply the scent of flowers, feeling the warmth of a small patch of sun on her white face and knowing that she’d never been happier. She pressed their entwined fingers gently against her abdomen, and in response there was a movement from within, a tiny kick.
A soft gasp leaped from Alexi, and he dropped to her side. Sliding his hands around her, he laid his head upon her rounded womb and looked up at her in wonder; this fearsome, striking man brought to his knees by a tiny kick. That, Percy thought, was power enough.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you friends, family, and Marcos for supporting Miss Percy above and beyond what I could have hoped.
Thank you Marijo and Mom for being the first to read this book.
Thank you to True-Blood.Net and to the many wonderful book bloggers and reviewers who championed Miss Percy and told the world; you are my heroes and I appreciate you more than I can say.
Thank you to McGuffey Foundation School, Edgewood High School and Miami University for not only being wonderful foundations but for the wonderful homecoming.
Thank you to the readers who have fallen for Strangely Beautiful; I am so blessed to have you along on this weird and wonderful journey.
Thank you Dorchester for your enthusiasm, and to my editor Chris Keeslar for continuing to make me a better writer.
CRITICS PRAISE LEANNA RENEE HIEBER AND THE STRANGELY BEAUTIFUL TALE OF MISS PERCY PARKER!
“A compelling, engaging novel that drew me in from page one. Bravo!”
—M. J. Rose, Bestselling Author of The Reincarnationist and The Memorist
“I want more! NOW! Such a beautifully written book…The story is fantastic in more ways than one. A gorgeous write
r…”
—Maria Lokken, President, Romance Novel.tv
“A strangely beautiful tale indeed! An ethereal, lyrical story that combines myth, spiritualism and the gothic in lush prose and sweeping passion.”
—USA Today Bestselling Author Kathryn Smith
“Tender. Poignant. Exquisitely written.”
—New York Times Bestselling Author C. L. Wilson
“The brightest new star in literature.”
—True-Blood.Net, the official fan site for HBO’s True Blood
“Hieber could not have picked a more accurate title for this suspenseful, otherworldly tale because it is, indeed, strange in its happenings and mood and beautiful in its romance and language…Hieber has created a secretive, gothic, paranormal world as well as a character who will resonate with anyone who has found the beauty in being different.”
—Booklist
“Its pages are like the petals of a rose: a many-layered tale gorgeously told…”
—New York Times Bestselling Author Alethea Kontis for Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show
“Suspense, mystery, and the paranormal are all rolled into a historical novel with a gothic flair that will entice the reader and leave her wanting more…”
—Book Wenches
“Leanna Renee Hieber creates a sense of enchantment from the very beginning…elegantly written and chock full of interesting characters and mythic themes.”
—Fantasy Literature
“A delightfully lush and richly imagined tale, the reality of The Strangely Beautiful Tale of Miss Percy Parker is easy to become absorbed in. The characters are realistic and have depth, and the plot builds to a stunning conclusion.”
The Darkly Luminous Fight for Persephone Parker Page 32