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Conrad Edison and The Living Curse (Overworld Arcanum Book 1)

Page 8

by John Corwin


  Thankfully, the outside lights weren't on. I lowered the carpet to the ground. Despite the way it bonded to my feet, all I had to do was step off and the surface released me immediately. I supposed the bonding must be a safety feature to keep riders from falling to their deaths. I also noted that when I wasn't touching the carpet, it didn't respond to my commands. I wondered if I'd inadvertently commanded it to fly when I almost fell from the tree, or if it was designed to automatically levitate when unfurled.

  The baying hounds drew closer. I willed the carpet to deactivate. It flopped to the ground. I rolled it up and slipped through the back door. The mingled voices from the dining hall and upstairs made it difficult to tell who was talking. I removed my boots and walked as quietly as possible toward the main staircase. I heard footsteps above and the conversation faded.

  Avoiding the creaky second step on the stairs, I crept up them and peeked around the corner at the top. Mrs. Goodleigh walked with Ambria toward her room near the end of the hallway. When they passed my room, I sneaked from concealment and kept to the wall to minimize squeaks from the wooden floor.

  A column jutted from the wall about halfway down. I ducked behind it just as the pair stopped outside Ambria's room. They spoke in quiet tones for a moment. Ambria laughed. She looked flush with excitement. The awful truth sickened me. She'd already been bought and paid for and her new owners would soon have her in their clutches.

  Mrs. Goodleigh opened the door to the bedroom and they stepped inside, leaving the door ajar. I used the opportunity to creep to my door. Turning the doorknob slowly as possible made the click marginally quieter. I stepped into the room.

  "Conrad, what are you doing?" Mrs. Goodleigh said.

  I threw the carpet into the room and poked my head outside the door. "Apologies, Mother. I needed to use the toilet."

  She stood just outside Ambria's door for a few seconds, her gaze tight. "I suggest you think of such things earlier." She motioned toward the bathroom. "Hurry and be quiet."

  I nodded and went into the lavatory. After doing my business, I returned to my room just as Mrs. Goodleigh left Ambria's. My nerves stretched tight as a drum. If she came into my room, she'd see the carpet. Praying she didn't call for me to wait, I entered my room and closed the door. Quickly as possible, I grabbed the carpet, lifted my mattress, and unrolled it onto the metal frame. The door clicked the instant I lowered the mattress.

  "Conrad, you know how rude it is to be noisy when others are trying to sleep."

  As if she wasn't doing it right now! I let my shoulders slump and faced Mrs. Goodleigh. "I apologize, Mother. I drank too much water at supper."

  She huffed. "Your lack of sense is a burden on us all, boy." Mrs. Goodleigh stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

  "I suppose making noise is rude unless you're a grownup," I whispered. Adults had such ridiculous double standards. A part of me wished I could strike her unconscious, fly her high into the air on the carpet, and then drop her into the pigpen. I flinched. Why am I thinking of such awful things? My new intelligence apparently came with a murderous streak. The line of thought drew me back to Mrs. Goodleigh's earlier comment about me being a murderous little wretch. What if she was right? I had killed the crazy man in the sheep pasture, proving I was quite capable of committing the deed and intentionally concealing the crime.

  Sometimes bad things have to happen.

  I took a deep breath to clear my mind. Now was not the time to question my sanity.

  I had to escape this madhouse.

  Chapter 9

  The flying carpet was my salvation. I might be a murderous wretch, but at least I cared enough to help Ambria. That means I'm not a heartless monster, right? I couldn't just leave her here and consign her to a dark fate. It also behooved me to steal the contents of the tablet in the Goodleighs' office. While I might be able to steal it, I didn't want them to know I'd discovered their secret. If I took the tablet, they might decide to cover up their diabolical activities by any means necessary, including killing every orphan and burying the bodies.

  These two conditions of my escape complicated things considerably. The flying carpet would make things easier, but first I had to find a way outside. With mine and Ambria's windows nailed shut, I couldn't simply slip out and fly around to her unless I decided to break the window. That would cause too much noise and alert the hounds.

  I sat on my bed, closed my eyes, and conjured a mental image of the manor. It took me only a matter of seconds to find the first possible exit—a window at the far end of the upstairs hallway. I'd seen one of the girls cleaning it one day. She'd climbed a ladder to reach the glass. I'd seen her open it to clean the outside.

  The vaulted ceiling peaked about twenty feet from the floor. I imagined flying the carpet through the window and circling around to the Goodleigh's office window. After confirming the office was empty, I would slip inside and close the window in case the hounds walked past. Once there, the phone would copy the tablet and I'd return to my room.

  My eyes flicked open and I felt a grin stretch my lips. The plan was simple and it would work. The second phase, however, introduced a human variable. What if Ambria didn't want to go with me? She might not believe me, and showing her the documents might take too much time. I formulated a line of logic to use on her, detailing the documents and convincing her that escape was the only answer. I hoped it was enough.

  The preamble to my escape plan was more difficult than I'd thought. It required me to wait until the wee hours of the morning, thus ensuring the others would be asleep. It was still early yet and I had a long time to wait. I considered setting an alarm on the phone and getting some much-needed sleep. Instead, I decided planning the logistics of this grand escape would be time well spent.

  Getting out of the manor was one thing, but where would we go from there?

  A location instantly came to mind. Levi Baker no longer needed his house. It would provide a good place for Ambria and me to live until we found something permanent.

  "Phone, where does Levi keep the key to his house?"

  "This device provides access to Levi Baker's house."

  "How do I unlock his house?"

  "Security parameters have restricted this information," the phone replied.

  "How do I bypass security?"

  "The following procedure will unlock security parameters: Facial scan of Levi Baker; verbal command to unlock security parameters. For more information, a helpful tutorial is available."

  "Does Levi Baker have to command the phone to unlock the security?" I asked.

  "Parameter was not specified."

  "In other words, I could tell the phone to unlock security after it scans Levi Baker's face?"

  "Yes. Would you like to view a tutorial?"

  That didn't seem necessary. The task of disabling the security on the phone would be gruesome, but I saw no way around it. I needed some way to unlock Levi's house. Something told me simply breaking a window wouldn't suffice. If the man could control animals, had access to a flying carpet and a phone advanced far beyond anything I'd seen, surely his home had security measures I couldn't hope to bypass. I hesitated to think of what I'd seen so far as magic. If the phone contained such advanced technology, surely it meant the carpet and ability to control animals utilized science as well.

  I ordered the phone to map the route to Queens Gate. As I zoomed out, I took note of my current location. The orphanage was at the end of an unlabeled road bordered by pastureland and forests northeast of the tiny town of Stapleton. The border between England and Wales was quite literally across a small paved road. According to the map, journeying to Queens Gate by car took three and a half hours.

  Out of curiosity, I looked for another place.

  "Phone, find the residence of Dr. Rufus Cumberbatch."

  It took a few seconds, but the phone responded with a red marker to indicate the address. I had the phone project the map in a first-person view of the property and confirmed it wa
s the correct estate. The doctor lived all the way down near St. Ives, nearly five hours away. A quick search of my memory told me that it hadn't taken the Goodleighs nearly that long to reach his house.

  We'd left just after breakfast and arrived at the doctor's before noon. Our return to the orphanage saw us back around early afternoon. I knew with certainty my routine naps during those trips was no coincidence. Mr. Goodleigh must be skilled at hypnosis and somehow put me to sleep with that strange chant of his. It did not explain how we managed a long trip in such a short time.

  The mystery would have to wait. I had more imminent dilemmas to solve.

  After mapping out the route to Queens Gate, I noticed a row of small icons indicating various means of travel. The car symbol was obvious. Bus and train icons represented mass transit options. Two symbols were for those hardy enough to endure the distance on foot or bicycle, and yet another was by plane.

  When I clicked on a set of ellipses, another menu dropped to reveal even more options. The first, an arch icon, was grayed out and wouldn't let me select it. The next showed the outline of a person riding a wavy line. When I clicked it, the wording on the map changed.

  Via flying carpet, broomstick, or other airborne means.

  Needless to say, the time estimate dropped considerably when the route changed from winding roads to a straight line in the air. A little red exclamation point beneath the icon description caught my attention. I touched it to reveal a strange warning.

  Always follow Overworld guidelines for travel by nonstandard means. All flights via these methods are observed and strictly enforced by the Overworld Transportation Authority.

  "Phone, what is the Overworld Transportation Authority?"

  "The OTA monitors the use of non-standard transportation to prevent detection of the Overworld by normals. Using a large network of all-seeing eyes, the OTA is able to quickly find and apprehend violators."

  "How do I avoid violations?" I asked.

  "According to the OTA, keeping out of sight by use of camouflage or cloud cover is preferred."

  I looked out the window and saw clouds blotting out some of the stars. I should be able to follow the rules. I had dozens of other questions to ask the phone, but realized the clock had just ticked past midnight.

  Time for me to act.

  I pulled the carpet from beneath the mattress and spread it on the floor. After practicing how to control it by moving up and down and circling the room, I deemed myself an able enough pilot to make this work.

  My door opened with a faint creak that might as well have been rumbling thunder in the absolutely silent hallway. I waited several seconds, ear cocked for the sound of footsteps. While it wasn't totally unheard of for someone to get up and use the bathroom in the middle of the night, the Goodleighs made it plain they did not approve.

  Rather than step into the hallway, I sat on the carpet and glided silently into the corridor, closing the door behind me. Heart in my throat, I levitated up to the ceiling and flew over the thick wooden rafters to the window. The latch opened and the window slid up noiselessly on greased rails.

  Not daring to use any form of light, I peered into the outside gloom and guided the carpet up and over the pitched roof of the common room. Once on the other side, I hovered over the shrubbery in front of the office window I'd unlatched. Rather than descend, I opted to wait and listen for the sound of the guard dogs. Minutes ticked past, the susurrus of the breeze through the trees keeping me company in the lonely night.

  Hands trembling, I took a deep breath. It did little to calm my nerves. I felt sweat trickle down my back. I had never done something like this before. A sense of exhilaration swept through me quickly followed by overwhelming apprehension.

  What in the world am I doing?

  I had no choice but to escape. Downloading the information on this tablet and saving Ambria were strictly optional. I was risking everything to help someone I barely knew. What did I plan to do with the information on the tablet—mount a later rescue or inform the authorities? Uncovering the Goodleighs' sins offered no security for my future. I nearly let cowardice convince me to fly for Queens Gate without a glance back at this sinister place.

  A pain in my chest held me fast. Leaving Ambria to her fate seemed unimaginably cruel when I could save her. Through some uncanny circumstance, I'd been given the chance to do something worthwhile with my otherwise unremarkable existence. Perhaps this Overworld had authorities who could prosecute the Goodleighs if I gave them the evidence.

  The memory of Ambria touching my hand melted the icy tension in my heart. She was my first and only friend. She had been kind to me even when I was too dull to appreciate it. Though I knew little of friendship, I realized preserving this fragile connection to another person was worth the risk my life and liberty.

  That settled, my nerves unknotted and the shaking in my hands diminished. I had never been brave before. Hopefully, this would not be my first and last time.

  The carpet dropped behind the thick shrubbery next to the dark office window. I pulled up on the frame. The window resisted but grudgingly slid up with a slight grating noise. I listened for several seconds before proceeding. Using only the light of the phone screen, I located the tablet. It had been moved to the other side of the desk. I swiped a finger across it and activated the screen.

  A breath of relief escaped me when I saw the screen was not password protected. I unlocked the device with another swipe and commanded the phone to download the contents. As illustrated in the tutorial, the phone displayed a number that I had to enter on the tablet before the download began.

  The first time estimate showed nearly three hours.

  Biting back an exclamation of disbelief, I watched as the estimate dwindled to forty-five minutes. That was still a lot of time, but at least—

  Muffled voices sounded outside the door.

  Panicking, I hit Cancel on the phone screen. Nothing happened. I looked at the tablet and saw, Attempting to cancel process, on the screen.

  The voices grew louder. Though I couldn't make sense of the words, I knew they belonged to the Goodleighs.

  The words on the tablet screen vanished. I flicked off the screen and quickly crept back to the window. I stepped out onto the carpet and shut the window. Just as I finished, the door opened and the lights came on. Up! I commanded the carpet. It shot upwards right toward the overhanging eaves. I threw up my hands. Stop! The carpet halted, my head inches away from ramming into them.

  My panicked breaths subsided. That was too close! I had no idea why the Goodleighs would be up at this hour unless they'd somehow been alerted to my absence. If that was the case, why would they go to the office? I noticed a light shining from the direction of the driveway and took the carpet toward it.

  Mr. Goodleigh's car was parked in front of the door. He never left it outside at night, preferring to store it in the large garage just behind the house. I directed the carpet back to the side of the office window and peeked inside.

  A little boy lay unconscious on the leather couch next to the desk. The Goodleighs spoke as they looked at him. I made out bits and pieces of the conversation through the thin windowpanes.

  "…a fine addition. We'll introduce him tomorrow," Mrs. Goodleigh said.

  "Agreed." Mr. Goodleigh stretched and yawned. "I'll put him in the secure bedroom for tonight." He tapped on the tablet, turned it off, and set it on the desk. He picked up the child and carried him from the office while Mrs. Goodleigh closed the door behind them.

  I rose into the air and observed the driveway. A few minutes later, Mr. Goodleigh came outside and drove the car behind the house to the garage. I looked at the time on the clock and waited a full thirty minutes before going back to the window and making a second attempt.

  Heart thumping, I opened the window and went inside. Once again, the phone began the download. I waited impatiently for it to finish, one finger on the cancel symbol. Sweat trickled down my forehead and anxiety churned my stomach. The d
ownload finally finished. I turned off the tablet and wiped the screen with my shirt to cover any smudges I'd left.

  When I went to the window, I heard sniffing just beyond the shrubbery. I hardly dared move as one of the hounds rooted in the dirt. It finally lost interest and moved away, judging from the sound of its panting. I climbed aboard the hovering carpet and closed the window, then flew up over the roof.

  This will be the most dangerous part.

  If Ambria resisted or made a scene, she could alert the adults.

  I went to the open window on the second floor and glided across the rafters. The hallway was eerily quiet aside from the occasional creak of wood as a stiff wind picked up outside. I went to Ambria's door and tested the knob.

  Locked.

  If she was asleep, I might be unable to wake her without knocking hard enough on the door to wake the whole house.

  I gently tapped. Waited.

  Nothing.

  Once again, I tapped, a little louder this time.

  A moment later, I heard footsteps coming toward the door. Ambria opened the door without bothering to be quiet. Her eyes flared when she saw me, and she opened her mouth to speak. I put a finger to my mouth and shook my head.

  "Be quiet," I whispered.

  "Conrad, what are you doing?" she hissed back. "You shouldn't be out of your—" At that moment, her eyes settled on the hovering carpet and her eyes went even wider.

  I motioned her back into the room. She backed inside, mouth dropping open with astonishment.

  "What—how?" She seemed unable to form a complete sentence.

  I eased shut the door. "Ambria, you have to listen to me. You're in danger. The Goodleighs didn't find a family for you. They're selling you."

  Ambria's nose wrinkled. "Selling me? What are you talking about? That's rubbish!"

  "Quiet, please," I said.

  She pushed down on the carpet with a hand then got on her knees and looked beneath it. "How are you floating?"

 

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