They’ve been toiling away for an hour or so now and as soon as the last box is packed and the hammering and sawing begins I will make my way to the east wing of the castle. There are perhaps three dozen wooden crates of books and manuscripts blocking the door of the study now and it would be next to impossible for my brothers to escape the room unless they tore through my things and risked inciting my anger. When I believed them to be sufficiently trapped within the confines of my true study, I crept out of the bedroom that Daphene and I had shared in life and moved to the brightly decorated hall that Rhys and Regelus had been preparing for the past few weeks.
I could hear them moving about in the study below me and I’m sure that if they hadn’t been babbling about one thing or another they would have been able to hear me creeping about above them. As it were they were noisily clearing shelves and moving furniture when I left the safety of the bedroom on my journey to the east wing. The halls stopped being decorated a hundred yards past the door of the bedroom. The decorations rapidly dropped off and any semblance of life and merriment dropped away just as quickly. The halls were dim in this part of the castle and the windows still hung empty. The divide was a concise one, with nothing more than a sheet to separate the lived in part of the castle from the skeleton of the east wing.
The benches and tables that once lined the halls when the castle was alive and well are now splintered piles of rubble coated in centuries of dust and cob webs. The statues and tapestries that stood and hung beside them are nothing more than outlines on the wall of a slightly brighter shad of grey. The time passed slowly as I made my way hesitantly down the hall, nothing of its former glory remains and a pervading sense of loneliness fills me each time I venture past the door of the bedroom. Many days I stay well away from the second floor of the castle all together, making my place in the study or the adjoining rooms. I walked far slower than I would have had I not set my brothers to a task that I knew would occupy and frustrate them for the entire day and well into the next.
The ceilings are crumbling and the further you venture down the hall, the larger the spots of sun on the floor that shine through the holes in the roofing grow. I made my journey at the peak of the day time hours in which the sunspots were particularly focused and bright. I passed beneath several of them as I made my way to the entrance of the east tower and basked in the heat of the sun that shone through them. The heat filled me with a sense of comfort and brightened the air around me. The entrance of the tower lies far beyond the beginning of the east hall but before the battlements begin to wrap themselves around the castle northward. The rubble strewn across the floor grew thicker as I moved deeper into the belly of the east wing and the grumblings of foundations that had seen better days filled my ears.
Through the bulk of my journey I brought to mind the contents of the note that Dmitry left for me the day before. Never before has anything been so insistent on my mind as the proclamation that something lights the east tower at night. Any other observation would have warranted a much more leisurely inspection of the claim, but as I whiled away the hours that lead to the morning, all I could think about was the tower. I moved steadfast to my destination and within an hour of leaving the bedroom I found the door that led to the stairs of the east tower. The wing was far less dilapidated than I had envisioned, having taken the words of my brothers to mean that nothing could be done to save the wing. True the outward appearance of this portion of the castle is much less appealing than that of the other wings and halls but the interior is rather promising.
The large oaken door that mysteriously evaded repairs and disintegration that the other doors of the castle did not was steadfastly locked against my entry. Having not anticipated this snag in my plan I sat at the base of the door wondering what options I had. The lock was a newer addition and was unlikely to give to any outward pressure that I may apply. The frame of the door was sturdier than any of the other doors of the castle and as such made breaking the frame next to impossible. I wallowed in the fact that even my strength is limited though something of its supernatural nature should certainly not be. When I exhausted all physical means of forceful entry I searched for a hidden key about the perimeter of the tower, hoping that my brothers were lying and that they had been to the tower in recent weeks. Neither of them are horribly good at keeping up with things on their person and often I find reminders and other things that they have hidden safely away for future use.
I know that any other person would have searched for the key first but as the years pass and many more doors remain hopelessly locked than are opened by hidden keys, one becomes aware of the fact that physical force is often the fastest route to obtaining your desired result. I sat there for a time detailing each moment of my journey thus far in my mind so that I might accurately catalogue it later. I sketched for a bit and then angrily made my way back to the bedroom so that I could be there when my brothers dug their way out of the study to tell me that they were finished for the day and that I would be displaced for one more day. I already supposed that they would tell me this, in fact I had fully intended it to be so. Their skeleton key would have to serve its purpose when the next day came.
Rhys and Regelus are now once again tucked safely away in the confines of the study and its reading rooms and two of the six shelves I requested are finished. I believe that the wood for the shelves came from old cabinets and things that Rhys and Regelus saved for other purposes as I heard them hacking and breaking well into the night and this morning they mysteriously had stacks upon stacks of wood. I left them to their work early and snuck into their filthy room just before I again made my way to the tower. One would think that with the attention they paid to the preparation of the castle for a guest they would have at least done better to keep their room in order, but sadly they did not. When I first came into the room a smell like no other greeted me and I found behind one of their beds a piece of clothing that should have been burned with the rest of the cleaning rags.
I shall tell them if they ask that I smelled something vile issuing from their room and could not bear to be on the same floor as it any longer. I moved the rag to the bin in the hall that was reserved for rags and trash that was to be burned the following afternoon. Their beds were pulled haphazardly into the middle of the room and though they do not actually need sleep, the beds are well slept in. The curtains of the window were pulled to and when I spread them wide open I realized immediately why. The mess in their room was far beyond what I had imagined and with the addition of natural light, it seemed almost to consume the entire room. I searched quickly, wanting nothing more than to find the key and take my leave of their den. The key was tucked nearly completely between the mattresses of Regelus’ bed so that nothing more than the winding curls of the grip protruded.
I pocketed it quickly, tucking it neatly into the folds of my blouse and moved back to the hall. I don’t know if I thought that the key would open a door that had seemingly withstood centuries or if I only hoped it would, but nonetheless I clutched the key close to me and walked resolutely back toward the east wing. I heard Rhys and Regelus arguing as I moved back across the threshold of the hall above the study, something about shelves not fitting, and I knew that they would be at their work for a time still. The walk to the tower was much faster after having found my way there and back just moments before. The walls were still as barren as the moment that I left them in search of the key.
I found that I was a bit surprised that life had not somehow extended itself to the east hall while I was away, but I suppose that though I only vaguely acknowledged the thought, it did strike me as odd while I stood there outside the tower door. I took a moment to truly take in its beauty before I began to try the key. The wood was of a much finer quality than I had remembered the doors of the castle during my youth being. The grain made patterns against itself that my mind registered as I stared blankly at the door. The hinges and bucklers were of polished silver and cast an eerie shine in the direction of the hall. Dark w
as coming fast on the castle and the glow that Dmitry had seen was beginning to issue forth from the bottom of the door. I tried the key while bracing myself against one of the framing stones of the door.
Though the key did not work the framing stone gave way and I nearly fell to the floor. The stone, so newly fallen from the frame of the door, lay next to my hand that still clutched possessively to the useless key. The cavity from which the stone had fallen was hollow and the plaster that presumably should have held the stone in place had been scraped clean. A fragment of some long forgotten letter hung within the space limply and though I knew I should forget my quest all together I pulled myself up from the floor and grabbed greedily at the parchment. I held it between bent fingers for a moment, trying to decide if the script that curled this way and that across it was familiar to me. The paper felt heavy in my hand, almost as if it had been soaked in lead or completely drenched in the rain water that from time to time trickles into the castle.
I left the sad hall before I read the note. Even now, as I sit here scribbling this and that about my day within the pages of my logs, I have yet to read the note. I worry that it shall hold something horrid, that it was hidden away from prying eyes for a reason. I’ve picked it up and made show like I intended to read it several times, but I still cannot bring myself to unfold it. The words on the outermost part of the paper are delicately written and the letters are formed as properly as if a calligrapher had written them. They are written much in the style of my childhood, my father having brought in tutors from across the world to properly educate us. I’ve been wondering to myself if I should open the letter in the presence of my brothers, if I should include them in the mystery, or if I should open the letter in the solitude of my study once it is complete. Either option seems to me to be a plausible solution, but alas I am constantly at battle with myself.
I’ve been sitting here, listening to the work below me on the study and I have come to the conclusion that my brothers do not need to know about the letter or the tower until I am sure what it holds. ‘To whoever is unlucky enough to find this note I bid you beware. I know not what brought you to find the letter that I hid, but I beg you to turn back. I know for certain that of all the people that dwell within the castle, Sabine is the most likely to have found this letter, and the most likely not to heed this warning. I will not tell you how to open the door, I will simply relate the means by which I came to be in the room at the top of the tower. The day was waning and I, as always, was busy fretting away the hours and waiting for what may come in the centuries to pass.
I came to the door while wandering the halls as I was apt to do in times of waiting. The door, like many of the doors in the castle, remained locked after my father went missing and the village died. I forgot its existence for some time but as the days drug on I became curious and the contents of the room weighed heavy on my mind. I ventured there for the first time just three days after the end of the sickness. Rhys, Regelus, and Sabine were tucked neatly away and I was alone in my musings. I stood outside the door for some time, wishing that it would open of its own accord and somehow through my wishing I moved it. The door swung open and I ascended the stairs slowly. I will not write here what I found at the top of the tower but all I know is that it is slowly driving me crazy.
I cannot begin to tell you dear reader what it was that I saw but I know that I shall never forget it. I wished upon exiting the tower room that I had never found the tower, that I had never become a part of what I found. I have been back at my life for six days since I went to the tower and I feel now in my bones that I shall not be able to go on with the memory of what I saw. I hope that with my death shall come some peace, some vague chance that I shall be able to forget the sadness that has been building to culminate with the discovery of the tower room. I cannot ask anyone to endure what I have and I hope that in some time the secret in the tower will expire and with it the chance that someone else may have to live with the decision that I’ve had to make. ‘
The note was her farewell, she knew that her life would end soon and now I know that her life came to an end because of what she found in the tower. I’ve been reading the letter over and over, wondering if within the words there is some clue as to how I might gain entry to the tower. Daphene always was one of few words, had it been me or either of my brothers it would have been apparent to anyone that wanted to get into the tower just how to. I know that she wanted to keep the tower room a secret, but I also know that all things that are secret are indeed worth the trouble that they may bring with their discovery. I cannot begin to think of how I will open the door, all I know is that I shall open the door. I can still hear my brothers beneath me and as I sit here in my room I can almost see Daphene’s outline on the bed across from me.
I will soon be back in front of the door and I will wish as she did that the door will open and I will have to come to terms with what I find there. The sawing and hammering continues and I wonder why they have not given up their work and come to complain to me. I knew that it would take them days but I had no idea that they would be so steadfast in their work and would continue long into the days following their first day of work. Tomorrow I will go to the door, tomorrow I will know what it was that drove Daphene to the edge, and I will not be so affected by it as she. I was always the stronger of the two, while she cried and worried over things I did whatever it took to stop her crying so that I could continue my work. Her life was difficult from the beginning as she did all that was in her power to make it so. I shall do what I can now to wait until tomorrow.
11: The Choosing
I waited until Rhys and Regelus were once again at their work, having taken down half of the shelves that they put up the day before and now they are knee deep in splintered shelves and saw dust. I know that I shall have to clean the study when they are finished, seeing as they will run as soon as the work is finished so that they can while away the hours pretending to be the aristocrats that they once were. I am waiting now for the hammering and sawing to reach a frenzied peak so that I might escape their notice and await the opening of the door. The noise is now louder than I have heard it in some time and I wonder if I should go to the study to make sure that they are safe and not in fact tearing my study apart. I would go to the study but I have decided not to and instead I went quickly to the east hall to await the opening of the door.
I sat there in front of the door for just a moment before my desire to open the door became so great that I could think of nothing else but the creaking of hinges as the door opened before me. I sat there, wishing, hoping, and before I had been there too long the door creaked open before me and I was on my way to the room at the top of the east tower. The stairs were not unlike the others in the castle towers. The windows, that were little more than slits that allowed the least amount of light possible, were far enough apart that the bits of light that fell from the windows did little to make the hall seem safe. I walked slowly to the tower room, and when I reached the top landing of the stairs I was far less certain of myself and my plan there at the top of the stairs than I had been in the safety of my room. I stepped close to the threshold of the room and pushed lightly against the door that was far less sturdy than the door at the bottom of the tower stairs.
The door swung wide open and I nearly closed my eyes against the scene laid out before me. The room was bathed in a bluish light, much the color one would think of when talking about ice. The bed, draped in moldering velvet sat just to he right of the tightly fastened window. Though the four poster bed took up much of the room, the lofty ceilings and closed off curtains made the room seem ten times bigger than any of the ball rooms or halls in the castle. The closed curtains of the bed added to the lonely feeling of the room. I remember that as I first entered the room, I wanted nothing more than to move back into the safety of the dimly lit hall. Though the stairway, scarcely lit by the small sliver windows, seemed more comforting to me than the confines of the lonely east tower room, I stayed resolutely i
nside the door of the tower room and surveyed its contents as well as I could from my vantage point.
The tattered remnants of tapestries and rugs rested around the room and the glow that put me instantly in the mind of winter when I first came into the tower room hummed quietly from the within the shelter of the bed curtains. Bits and pieces of what must have been grand chests and tables stood around the perimeter of the room, their tops and bottoms having succumbed to age and dry rot, were folded in on themselves and the contents that had been salvaged from them were neatly stacked beside them. Many of the chests had been full of trinkets and clothes that looked shockingly like the dress of the time period from which we came. I noticed all this from the comfort of the threshold and noticed that the glow that was no doubt what Dmitry had seen from the hall came directly from within the canopy of the bed.
I moved then, slowly, toward the bed, not sure if in fact I wanted to see what was behind the curtain or not. I walked toward the bed, my hands held shakily out before me, and braced myself for what awaited me. ‘Sabine! What do you think you are doing, your mother needs her rest. Now go and move back away from the bed and make sure that you are quiet and close the door on your way out.’ My father watched me as I moved back toward the door, not so much in an effort to follow orders as to keep myself from falling flat. He stood there, in the coroner of the small partitioned off part of the tower room, watching me reproachfully. His eyes narrowed as I looked back at him in surprise. It seemed almost as if he was astonished that I had not expected his presence there, that I was not as happy as I should have been that he had survived and was there in the castle among us. ‘Why do you look at me with such insolence? Why are you not happier that I am still alive?’ He sat quietly in the chair in the coroner, his face still hidden in the shadows that the glow from the bed created.
The Crypt Keepers Page 10