by Jeff Wheeler
“What are you doing in here, Cettie?”
She turned in startled surprise. It was Adam Creigh. It seemed he had been passing along in the corridor and had stopped upon noticing her at the desk. The servants were used to Cettie being there. Her heart was still racing from surprise, but Adam didn’t look accusing, only curious.
“I’m counting the tick marks,” she explained. Holding the pencil, she pointed it toward the glass tube without touching it.
He approached the desk and looked over her shoulder at her ledger. “May I?” he asked.
Cettie nodded, only a little embarrassed, and he slid the book over and started glancing down the columns of numbers she had written there. He flipped through some of the pages, his head bent over the scrawl.
“So you are counting the tick marks on the glass,” he said. “And the numbers change every few days, is it?”
“Yes,” she answered. “We don’t understand why. Fitzroy has been studying it a long time. I thought I would help keep track.”
He nodded, impressed. “What does this mark mean?” He pointed to the square she had just drawn.
“It’s raining today,” she said.
“Ah. Do you know where quicksilver comes from?” he asked.
She wrinkled her nose. “The silver mines at Dolcoath.”
He nodded. “I’ve seen it when it comes out. It sticks to the rocks in little globs. You have to harvest it. There isn’t much we can do with it, of course. It’s a curious metal, though, the only one that is liquid. Don’t ever taste it, Cettie. It’s poisonous. I treated a man who had swallowed some after losing a bet with other miners.” He shook his head at the memory. “The man died. What a bad bet. People gamble over the strangest things.”
Cettie’s eyes went wide. “That’s awful.”
“It was awful. I can’t wait to go to school to learn everything I can about the Mysteries. When you are fourteen, you will as well.”
Cettie smiled. “I hope so. It makes me so curious when I see the evidence of them. Like the music coming through the walls.”
“Exactly!” Adam said, his eyes gleaming. “Down below, most people are very superstitious. They don’t want to know. Even if they were given a chance to study at the schools, they’d be too afraid. Why aren’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Cettie answered. “I’ve always enjoyed learning. I love to read, love to observe things. I didn’t know how to before I came here, but now . . . it feels like I’ll never stop asking questions. Maybe I have too many.”
Adam chuckled. “It’s not possible to have too many. You have a mind for the Mysteries of Wind, I should think. Is that your preference?”
“I think so,” she answered truthfully. Then she bit her lip. “That is, if Fitzroy can afford to send me to school. I’ve heard he’s already paid off my deed. He’s spent so much money on me already.”
Adam cocked his head to the side. “Well, if it came down to it, he should probably send you to school before me. My father had the opportunity of saving his wealth to pay for my education. He gambled it away on a speculation instead. You never had the opportunity. I would hate to see you deprived of it.”
She was touched by his concern. “But I feel the same way,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault that your father . . . lost his money.”
Adam shrugged. “In a way, I’m glad that he did. Who is to say what kind of man I would have become if I’d kept my father’s wealth?” He gave her a knowing look. “But I shouldn’t speak ill of the family. I owe them everything, and I’m not complaining.” He slid the book back to her. “Have you ever been to the far side of the grounds, down past the willows? There is a rookery of sorts there. Some of the most interesting species of crow make their nests in these heights. Have you seen it?”
“I haven’t,” Cettie said with interest.
“If you and Anna would like to see it, we can go there tomorrow perhaps? I think she would like it, too. I’m not certain she knows about it.”
Cettie wondered at his words, at his desire to show the nests to Anna as well. But perhaps this was a good sign for her friend. She felt indebted to Anna and wanted her to be happy.
“I think we’d both like that,” Cettie said.
“Tomorrow, then,” he said, bowing his head to her. He started to leave, then paused and turned back. “It wouldn’t be proper, you know, for the two of us to be alone together like that. I hope she’s willing to come. I think you’d especially like it.”
She felt her cheeks burning a little. “Thank you.”
“We’ll see each other at dinner, then,” he said with a smile, nodding once again, and then departed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BEHIND LOCKED DOORS
The lights in the sitting room dimmed, signaling the end of dancing practice, which always wrapped up the day after the children’s studies ended with Miss Farnworth. The strains of another song had just begun, but the sound had faded into silence before the notes could be heard. Phinia let out a groan of displeasure and quickly turned to her father, who was sitting in his favorite stuffed chair reading a book.
“Father, just one more dance, please. It’s ‘Genny’s Market’!”
In the time Cettie had spent at Fog Willows, she had become familiar with the tunes of the family favorites. Each one had an interesting and peculiar name and a rhythm and a series of steps all its own, which had slowly begun to form in her mind. One of the brother-and-sister pair’s favorites was “Genny’s Market.”
Fitzroy glanced up over his book. He looked weary and tired, and Cettie could see that he would rather send everyone off to bed. Lady Maren was already asleep on the couch.
“Just one more,” he said. “And only because it’s ‘Genny’s Market.’”
Phinia threw her arms around Fitzroy’s neck and kissed him. There was the familiar pulse in the air, the quiver of some hidden magic, and the music filled the room again. It had already started, but they hadn’t missed much.
With the arrival of Adam Creigh to the manor, Anna finally had a dance partner who wasn’t Cettie. Her cheeks were flushed from the exercise and the closeness to the young man she admired. Cettie knew the moves and wished that she could have joined them, but she lacked a partner. She watched Anna and Adam with a little thrill of excitement. The dancing looked so enjoyable. Her favorite part was when the dancers circled each other, the gentleman’s hand on the lady’s back, gazing into each other’s eyes—which was the custom, of course. Many a young woman had undoubtedly swooned to be held in such a way with an admiring gaze fixed on her. Social dancing was how individuals from any class fell in love with each other. But it was also a calculated thing, a test of sorts. Missing a step, turning in the wrong direction at the wrong time could cause a fall from grace and prevent an invitation into more elevated social circles. As Cettie watched, it made her think of the Way of Ice and Shadows and how each movement was sculpted to a purpose. She had a precise mind, and such things appealed to her. She wanted to get it right.
All too soon, the song ended, and the two couples clapped.
“I hope they play it at the Hardings’ ball next week,” Phinia said.
“Are they still having the ball?” Fitzroy asked with concern.
“Indeed,” Stephen replied, reverting to the formal tone he usually took when addressing his father. “Mother says the invitation already arrived.”
“I should think they could ill afford it,” Fitzroy answered, shaking his head.
“But they always host one before everyone leaves for school,” Phinia said. “It’s tradition.”
“Not all decisions are a matter of cost and calculation, Father, surely,” Stephen said. There was a tone of judgment and superiority in his voice that grated on Cettie’s nerves.
Fitzroy did not respond to the subtle rebuke. Surely if Stephen took as much interest in learning about the household and its costs and the struggles happening at the Dolcoath mines as he did in high society, he would be more discreet.
Fitzroy’s forbearance was admirable, and Cettie wished her own heart didn’t flare up with resentment whenever Stephen and Phinia showed their ingratitude to their parents.
“Thank you for being my partner tonight,” Anna told Adam, blushing furiously.
“I enjoyed it,” he replied, offering a short bow. Then he looked at Cettie. “The rooks, then? Tomorrow?”
Cettie smiled and nodded cheerfully.
Now that the music was ended and the lights were dimming throughout the manor, it was time for bed. Though Mrs. Pullman hadn’t acted last night, Cettie could not help but fear she would send the ghost to them tonight. Part of her wished to warn Anna, and yet . . .
Mrs. Pullman would surely find out, but that wasn’t the only thing that stopped Cettie. She could not forget the look on Mr. Savage’s face the night of the river walk. He’d blamed her for releasing that fearsome beast. What if Anna decided Cettie—and not Mrs. Pullman—was the problem? What if Fitzroy and Lady Maren agreed? She hadn’t belonged to this household for nearly as long as the old woman.
Wouldn’t it be best to wait until the ghost arrived? Until it could be seen—and stopped—by Fitzroy?
Anna grasped Cettie’s hand and pulled her away. Stephen and Phinia began to talk excitedly about the Hardings’ ball and whom they expected would be there. Once they were in the hall, Anna was fit to burst.
“I had such a good time this evening,” Anna said, squeezing her hands. “He’s so gentle and thoughtful. And so tall—he’s nearly as tall as Stephen. Adam did the dances very well, don’t you think?”
“He did indeed,” Cettie said with an encouraging smile. “The two of you looked very charming together.”
“Do you think so? It makes me so eager to attend school. They teach all of the dances there. There are so many, and the dancing masters can be quite strict. I’m grateful Stephen has been teaching us.”
As they turned the corner, they nearly collided with Mrs. Pullman, who gave them each a stern frown. She was holding her lamp, as she always did at night. Cettie felt a chill from her presence, something that choked her good spirits. Anna looked frightened and shrank slightly back.
“Why aren’t you two already abed?” she asked in a scolding tone. “The lights dimmed a quarter hour ago. The master will be displeased.”
Anna’s countenance shrank even more from the rebuke, and Cettie felt Mrs. Pullman’s eyes turn to her next. It was the first time they had been so alone since her return from the City. The gaze of the older woman could have turned someone into stone. Cettie could feel the animosity seething from her. It was a look that tried to do harm.
“We were with Father,” Anna said in a subdued voice.
Mrs. Pullman’s frown deepened. “You coaxed him for another dance, I take it? How insensitive. Your father’s troubles weigh on him like stones. And you think only of your own needs. Well, you are children, after all.” She jerked her head. “Off to bed.”
Even though her voice was a dismissal, she glared at Cettie with a look of warning—a look that guaranteed her revenge would indeed come in its own due time.
Anna pulled on Cettie’s hand, and the two of them walked hastily away. Cettie glanced back and saw Mrs. Pullman staring at them still, her face wrinkled with her deep frown. A chill ran through her, and she quickened her steps.
As they walked down the corridor, they passed the locked door that had hooked Cettie’s attention. The same strange feeling emanated from it, compelling her attention. She slowed her steps to gaze at it. A hunger of curiosity swept through Cettie’s being, even though the feeling made her slightly ill.
It was as if a song were beckoning to her, only it was not music she heard. But it had the feeling of music. A song that was being played wrong.
When they reached Anna’s room, they started getting ready for bed. On Fitzroy’s order, Cettie’s few belongings had already been moved to a chest at the foot of the bed.
“I’m so grateful you decided to stay with me,” Anna said after shutting the door. “Sometimes, when I get scared at night, I’ll go to Phinia’s room, and she’s not very pleasant about it. And she’ll be leaving for school herself, which would have made me the only child left in the manor. I was afraid I’d be so lonely.” She gave Cettie such a dear look.
Cettie knew what that felt like. The two girls helped each other unbutton their dresses. “I’m grateful, Anna. Mrs. Pullman isn’t very happy with either of us.”
“Mrs. Pullman is angry that I went to Father. She knows that I did. She’s the keeper, how could she not know it? It takes a little while for her anger to cool, but it will.”
“How did she come to work at Fog Willows? She doesn’t seem the kind of person . . . well, she isn’t exactly the kind of person I thought your father would hire.” It was as much as she felt she could openly say.
Anna turned and looked at her in confusion. “She isn’t.”
Cettie was taken aback.
“I keep forgetting that you don’t know these things already. Our grandfather brought on Mrs. Pullman and her son. Her husband died of illness long ago. I don’t remember how it happened, but he died young. Mrs. Pullman was hired because she was like Grandfather. She thought like him and acted as he would. But Grandfather and Father were very different.”
“So he’s no longer alive?” She immediately chuffed at herself. “That was a foolish question. He must not be if your father inherited Fog Willows.”
The girls slipped on their nightclothes and crawled under the thick blankets. “Grandfather was very strict,” Anna said with a small smile. “Father has told us stories about him. When he was young, they took in the daughter of a family whose fortunes had been blighted. It happened a lot more back then, I think. Out of duty, Grandfather brought the girl home to Fog Willows. She was fourteen, and Father was sixteen and away at school. When he got back, the two of them became friends. Well, more than friends! They fell in love. Grandfather was so upset when he found out. He was angry that he had taken in the girl. He charged Mrs. Pullman with keeping them apart.”
Cettie listened with fascination. It was difficult imagining Fitzroy as a young man Stephen’s age. And it was especially difficult imagining him acting spoiled like Stephen. But the story was already helping her see Mrs. Pullman in a new light.
“What happened then?” Cettie asked eagerly.
“Well, the two of them were determined to marry, despite Grandfather’s wishes. Father did not have any siblings, so if Grandfather didn’t choose him to inherit Fog Willows, the family would lose control of the manor. So he took steps to separate the two. Father was sent to the Ministry of War with a commission. The girl—he’s never told us her name—was sent to the Fells.” Her voice grew quieter. “Father doesn’t speak of this very often. I’ve heard most of the story from Mother and Phinia. Mother came from a wealthy family, all sisters and one brother, but when her father died, her brother became greedy and refused to give his sisters anything. They were forced to live down below even though they’d spent their lives in a manor in the clouds. Sometimes they were invited to society gatherings in Lockhaven out of pity. Or for something to gossip about.”
“How could their brother do that to them?” Cettie gasped in outrage.
“It’s one of the Mysteries of Law,” Anna answered. “Once my uncle had full control of the estate, he overrode the things that his father had set in place to care for his daughters. Having a good advocate is so important. Everyone says his wife made him do it.”
“So what did your mother and her family do? How did they live?”
“My grandmother, on my mother’s side, is a relation to Sir Jordan Harding. That’s how my parents met, through him, at one of the balls the Hardings like to throw.”
It made much more sense now. And she could imagine someone like Stephen doing a similar thing to Anna, but not to Phinia. “Could your father send Mrs. Pullman away if he wanted to?”
“It’s not that easy,” Anna said. “And Father isn’t like
that. He’s very patient. Mrs. Pullman is absolutely devoted to him and Fog Willows. She cares more about his future than he does. But she certainly takes more after Grandfather’s style. She’s very capable, though. Running a manor this large isn’t easy. Not many have the strength of will to master all the responsibilities, I should think.”
Cettie noticed the light in the room had dimmed just a little more. “Mrs. Pullman hates me.”
Anna frowned. “That’s a strong word, Cettie. I’m sure she doesn’t. I think she saw the pain it caused my father to be separated from the girl he loved. Maybe she’s afraid that Stephen will start liking you!” She giggled softly.
Cettie shuddered. “I don’t think that’s possible!”
“Well, if you become adopted, then it cannot happen. You’d be like my true sister. Which you already are.” She leaned over to kiss Cettie’s cheek.
Weariness stole through Cettie, and she rested her head on the soft pillow, such a stark difference from sleeping on the bare wooden floor. Although her body was tired, her mind was still awake. The room became darker still. Soon, she could hear Anna’s breathing change as she fell asleep.
Cettie waited for that prickle of awareness to go down her back. The anticipation of it tortured her. She silently begged the ghost to stay away, to leave her alone.
The slow tread of footsteps came down the hall. It was a familiar sound. It was the sound of Mrs. Pullman’s shoes. Cettie cringed at it as terror began to wriggle up her throat. The sound of the footfalls stopped at the door of the room. Cettie could feel Mrs. Pullman standing there; she could sense the emotions of anger and determination.
Please don’t come in. Please don’t come in.
The feeling of safety she had had earlier dissipated in an instant. She felt alone, even with Anna sleeping beside her, and she felt vulnerable. All her life, the adults she had known had failed her. Her own parents, whoever they were, had neglected her. Each household she had lived in since, each person who had taken her deed, had failed her. In the end, Fitzroy would fail her, too. No one was that good.