The Forgotten Spell (Legends of Green Isle Book 1)

by Constance Wallace

  “Is that the Mr. Stewart Mom talked about?” Toby asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  “Probably is,” Matt replied, unable to look away from the painting. “Looks weird. He’s wearing a dress or something.” Matt shivered again. There was a peculiarity about the eyes of the painted figure and he found he couldn’t look away. Voices from the back of the house echoed into the foyer, forcing him to finally take his eyes away from those within the frame. A door beneath the staircase opened and his mother walked through, followed by a short round woman wearing an apron.

  “Thank you so much for washing the bed linens, Mrs. Stacey,” his mother stated sweetly. “I hope our coming so late in the morning hasn't put a damper on your schedule.”

  “No, we’re happy to have you here, mum. I hope you and your boys will be comfortable here at Stewart Manor. It’s been awhile since we’ve had any children stay on the property. If you need anything, there’s a bell pull in each room that rings back to the kitchen. When you want to summon me, or the maid, just give it a yank.” The woman paused. Pursing her lips, she continued. “Dinner is served promptly at six o’clock. No sooner, no later. I run a tight ship, so please be on time. There are three others workers here at the Manor that you will meet soon. Missy is our upstairs maid. Clarence is our gardener and then there is Phillips, who is both the butler and driver. Clarence also sees to the stables.”

  Her eyes drifted to the boys. “We have four horses here, so if you boys like to ride just let Clarence know in the morning and he can have a horse ready for you.” Pulling a wadded piece of paper from her apron pocket, she handed it to Matt’s mother. “I believe Missy took a phone message this morning from Mr. Kelly. He said he would arrive this evening at about five o’clock. Seems that the plant couldn’t afford for him to leave today to welcome you here. Sorry, mum.”

  “Oh, that’s fine. Thank you.” Matt watched his mother take the paper and gently unfold it.

  Mrs. Stacey tapped her foot lightly on the tile. “If that is all, mum, I have cooking that I need to attend to.” Her tone suggested she wanted to be dismissed.

  “Oh yes, Mrs. Stacey, thank you so much.”

  All three watched the little round woman retreat through the doorway. Matt’s mother turned to her children with wide eyes. Tilting her head, she addressed them in a mocking voice. “Dinner is served promptly at six o’clock, no sooner, no later.”

  “You’re funny, Mommy.” Toby giggled.

  “Come on, let’s go explore upstairs.” She glided to the bottom step and hesitated. Contemplating the same painting that had mesmerized Matt earlier, her smile disappeared. “It looks like that old Scotsman is alive in that picture, doesn’t it boys?” She quietly studied it for a few seconds. “I wonder what he was thinking when the artist painted him. He has a look of...” Her voice faded.

  “Evil?” Matt offered.

  “I told Matt it was him. That was that Mr. Stewart you talked about,” Toby gleefully stated.

  “I wasn’t quite thinking of that particular word. Maybe along the lines of disapproval. He looks very angry, like he doesn’t want anyone intruding in his house.”

  Matt walked to where his mother stood poised on the bottom step. Disapproval was too light of a word for what Matt saw. Rage and malice spoke volumes.

  “Well, if he was alive today, I know lots of girls who would die to go on a date with someone who looks like that.” She laughed and shook her head as she trotted up the stairs.

  The boys raced after her and soon found themselves at the center of a long narrow hall. Ornate carpets had once covered the old, worn, wooden floors, but years of use had faded the colors, leaving them a drab brown. Matt noticed polished suits of armor creatively placed at each end of the hall, their weapons displayed in tactical positions.

  “Just pick a door.” His mother motioned towards one on the left. “We’ll stay in this area. Mrs. Stacey said the other two wings haven’t been cleaned out entirely and only a couple of rooms were readied in this one.”

  The boys peeked into the doors lining the halls. All of the bedrooms were large and spacious, with oversized beds and medieval-styled wood furniture.

  “It looks like something out of a book, doesn’t it, Squirt?” Matt exclaimed to his little brother. He hesitated at a carving of an elf warrior on one of the doors. The references to the mythic creatures throughout the Manor was bewildering to him. He wondered why they and dragons were part of the motif.

  “Them drawings are scary. I dunno if they come from a book or whatnot.”

  “Why are there so many references to mythical creatures in this house?” Matt asked his mother, pointing to the scene of a ferocious battle between Elves and Goblins on another door.

  “I’m sure several hundred years ago these stories were very real to the Scottish people,” his mother replied, running her fingers over the etching. “Mr. Stewart must have been very intrigued with them.”

  “They’re just fairy tales. Why fill your house with make-believe?”

  When his mother didn’t answer, Matt decided to go into the last door at the end of the wing. The room was large and dusty. A tapestry hung above the fireplace, its fabric dull with age and the weaving, barely visible, was that of the Manor and gardens. Against the opposite wall, Matt saw an immensely large bed surrounded by red velvet curtains tied at the four corners. A smaller portrait of Mr. Stewart hung above the bed. Matt noticed its coloring was different, the oils more dull and worn, unlike the painting downstairs.

  Sneezing violently, he turned to leave, but before he could close the bedroom door, an unfamiliar sound from outside the window caught his attention. A soft singing of unusual words, its melody haunting, floated beyond the shadow of the heavy curtains. Crossing the room, he pushed the material back and opened the window to survey the grounds.

  It had started raining again, the light mist wetting his head as he hung over the sill. Listening carefully, he strained to hear where the melody was coming from. He could see in the distance the overgrown garden he noticed earlier. The brick wall shone from the wetness of the water, and its high gate, padlocked and chained at its entrance, was smothered with green ivy, the leaves dripping tiny drops onto a large stone step. The song and its mistress seemed to be hidden within the confines of the wall. Barely audible, the words carried on the breeze, muddled with the soft sound of rain. To him the music was magical, the notes calling to him in a most peculiar way.

  Matt wrestled with the old window, forcing it higher. He wanted to know the words, to hear what they were saying. It seemed to pull at him, and he couldn’t explain why. He leaned further out until he caught himself against the sill, almost falling. A mist now began to form in the center of the garden, and it blanketed the sound. A sense of dread filled Matt, and he frowned.

  “Whatcha doing?” Toby squealed suddenly from the bedroom doorway.

  Matt knocked his head into the window. “Squirt,” he exclaimed in irritation. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

  “Come see what I founded in my room!”

  “What’d you find? The baby’s room?” Matt taunted, rubbing the back of his head.

  “Nah, you’d got that already,” Toby jokingly countered. Seeing his brother’s face, he grinned and took off running.

  “You’re gonna get it, Squirt,” he cried, catching up to Toby. Picking his little brother up, Matt threw him over his shoulder and tossed him on the thick mattress in the other bedroom. Pressing him down onto the bedspread, he tickled Toby’s sides until his brother’s laughter turned into gasps for air.

  “Stop it! I can’t breathed anymore,” Toby laughed loudly, as Matt ruffled the top of his head.

  “Jeepers, you got some interesting stuff in here, Squirt.”

  Matt walked around the room, poking into drawers. Touching the head of a large wooden rocking horse in the corner, he made his way to the other side of the room when he noticed a bookshelf. Pulling a book out, he half-heartedly flipped through
the yellowed pages, inspecting the binding.

  “This is great. You’ll have fun in here.”

  “Yup, I really, really liked the rocking horse.” Toby scooted off the bed. Walking to the wooden animal, he petted the toy. “I hope they have a horse I can ride at the stables.”

  “I’m sure they do. Didn’t the housekeeper say they had four? There should be one you’d like.” Matt coughed as a layer of dust, disturbed by his investigation, shot into the air. “This room is stuffy. Let’s open your window.”

  Matt lifted the sash, allowing a cool breeze to fill the room. The smell of the rain filtered in from outside, and with it another unexpected sound. It was course and throaty laughter, coming from the same spot where he heard the singing earlier. Matt stood still in disbelief. “Hey, didja hear that?” he questioned Toby.

  “Yup, maybe there’s some kids around,” Toby confirmed, running to stand by his brother. Both boys leaned out, scanning the property.

  “I don’t see anybody,” Toby pouted. “Hey are ya out there?” he called out loudly.

  “Look at the garden. Don’t you see the mist? I think the laughter is coming from there.” Matt pointed to the overgrown hedges.

  “I still don’t see no one,” Toby whined.

  “Be quiet, Squirt. With all your carrying on, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.”

  The boys’ search for the mysterious person ended shortly when their mother called. “Go get your things out of the car, boys. Put them away and then come to the kitchen for lunch when you’re done. Mrs. Stacey made sandwiches for you.”

  Toby sprinted out the door, while Matt remained at the window. He frowned again and stared at the overgrown garden one last time. The sound was definitely out of place, especially since the garden was padlocked and overgrown. Matt shook his head. It was just as strange as the ravens on the gutters. When he made his way down the stairs, Matt glanced at the painting. Mr. Stewart’s face seemed to reflect his disapproval even more than before. “Sorry old timer,” he whispered to the portrait. “I don’t want to be here anymore than you want us here.”

  After the boys ate, Toby was clamoring to go outside and explore. “Take him out, dear, while I inventory our boxes that arrived yesterday. I need to start unpacking,” Matt’s mother instructed gently.

  “I don’t wanna babysit,” Matt retorted angrily. “I always seem to get stuck with taking care of him.”

  “Well, you have to. I’ve got things to do and I need you to be mindful of your little brother. You’re the oldest, so please be responsible, and do as I ask.”

  Sighing, Matt’s rage returned as he looked at Toby. “I’ll take you out, but you better not be a nuisance. Ya hear, Squirt? Or I’ll give you over to whatever is in the garden. Got it?”

  “You don’t have ta be so mean.” Toby frowned at Matt.

  “I’m not being mean; I just don’t wanna go Wandering around this stupid old place with you tagging along.”

  Donning jackets, both boys exited the front door and stepped outside. Toby wanted to see the horses, so Matt guided him to the stables, where they met Clarence, who didn’t say much. Toby instantly took to the barn and became enchanted with an older horse named Chester, a gentle gelding who stood patiently as Toby climbed all over him.

  It wasn’t until evening that they finally made their way back to the Manor. Arriving just before their father, the boys heard the car door slam and his call from the foyer. Steven Kelly was removing his hat and overcoat, handing them to Mrs. Stacey, when the boys came down from the second floor.

  “Hey guys,” Matt’s father said with a smile. “Did you have fun exploring this old place?”

  “Dad, didja know there are four horses here?” Toby cried in excitement. “And my room has this big rocking horse in it, and Matt’s room has this big rug hanging from the ceiling. All of them have fireplaces too, and big beds. And there’s this big picture of some guy in a dress.” He pointed to the portrait above the fireplace.

  Matt glanced at the painting. That was odd, he thought to himself. It seemed different. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he remembered seeing Mr. Stewart on the other side of the canvas.

  “And then, when we went down to the stables, I gotta ride a horse named Chester,” Toby exclaimed with enthusiasm.

  Matt and Toby’s father nodded. “Well, it seems you have indeed discovered the wonderful secrets of Stewart Manor,” he stated, patting Toby’s head gently.

  Seeing Matt’s intense study of the painting, he cleared his throat. “Still angry at your mother and me?” he questioned carefully.

  “No sir, I’m not,” Matt lied, keeping his eyes adverted and on the painting. He hoped his voice was emotionless. The presence of his father eased his anxiety about the house, yet did nothing to erase his feelings regarding the move.

  “Well, that’s good to know. I wasn’t looking forward to arguing with you all evening. Let’s go and see where your mother is. Remember dinner is served exactly at six o’clock...”

  “No sooner, no later,” Toby chimed in, laughing.

  “Aha. Mrs. Stacey. She’s a little bossy, but a good cook,” their father concluded in a whisper, pressing a finger to his lips and winking.

  “It’s about time I see some laughing. It’s so good to see you, dear,” Matt’s mother commented as she entered the foyer area.

  “I’m glad you made it safely.” Matt watched his father hug and kiss his mother. “I swear that picture never seems to be the same,” his father commented lightly. He walked to where Matt stood. “Guess I’m just workin’ too many hours at the plant.”

  Matt wanted to comment about the portrait and his observations of it, too, but his mother stepped in and took his father’s arm, pushing him in the direction of the dining room. “Is everyone ready for dinner?” she asked, looking back at the boys.

  “Yes, after today’s events at the factory, I could eat a cow. Production is increasing at a faster pace than I expected, and we’ve got a new contract for a hundred more planes. Germany and Japan are going to expand this economy. The war is heating up, both in Europe and the Pacific.”

  The family made their way to the table, listening to the events Matt’s father described at the plant. Talking about the new home and his new job filled dinnertime with relaxed conversation until Matt mentioned exploring the walled garden beside the house.

  “Matt, I don’t want you to go in there until Clarence and I’ve check it out,” his Dad asserted sternly, his demeanor changing. “This house hasn’t been lived in for awhile and that garden is extremely overgrown. There could be some unseen hazards, or even snakes. It’s best to get it tidied up before you or anyone else decides to investigate it,” he finished, cutting into the last bit of his steak.

  Matt sighed in disappointment. He really wanted to find out who had been in the garden earlier in the afternoon. He pushed his peas around his plate, deep in thought. “Dad? Are there any kids around here? Ya know, maybe some around mine or Toby’s age, maybe?” he asked, fishing for information.

  “I think maybe there are some older children in town, more your age though, if I remember right. I believe I’ve seen four or five of them hanging around down at the end of the road when I’ve come home.” Matt’s father handed his plate to Mrs. Stacey.

  Mrs. Stacey paused at the door to the kitchen. “If you don’t mind me saying so, Mr. Kelly, those children you saw are the only children in town. This house has a bad history of missin’ kids. Last year the previous manager’s two twin girls disappeared and haven’t been found. No bodies, nothin’. Most folks who have children won’t live here anymore. They’re spooked. Some believe the old ghost of Mr. Stewart took off with those twins.”

  “Why, that’s crazy. Ghosts? How absurd. We live in modern times, not the dark ages. I think it has more to do with the war and all, not ghosts.”

  “It’s not unthinkable. There are strange things that go on around this Manor. Things that have no explanation. Just be careful and cautious with y
our own,” she warned, dabbing her eyes with the corner of her apron.

  “Have you heard of this before?” His mother questioned fearfully, her voice high in alarm.

  “No, dear, I haven’t. This is the first of it.”

  “Did you ask about the previous manager? It certainly is suspicious that they withheld the fact that his children went missing. I thought we were the first to live here since it was bought? How much did you investigate about this area before we transferred our lives here? The boys could be in danger.”

  Matt’s father gently covered her hand with his, attempting to sooth her anxiety. “If there was a problem, I’m sure the company wouldn’t have offered us this house, or this job to me. You know how a small town can make tall tales out of nothing. I love my boys and I love you. I wouldn’t consciously make a rash decision that put us in harm’s way,” he assured her, patting the back of her hand.

  “Still dear...there are things about this place...”

  “Let’s not discuss it anymore,” Matt’s father said firmly, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin before rising from the table.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve got some work to do in the library, so I’ll have to miss dessert. Please tell Mrs. Stacey to leave a piece of pie out in the kitchen and I’ll come get it later with some coffee. I don’t want you to dwell on this anymore, okay?” He bent and kissed his wife’s cheek, rubbing at the lines on her brow. “Stop worrying. Nothing is going to happen.” He touched Toby’s head before disappearing out the doorway.

  Matt watched his mother’s expression and knew she was troubled as she stared blankly ahead. He could see the housekeeper’s words bothered her. Even though his father had pushed it off as a tall tale, his mother didn’t let it go as easily. She remained silent during dessert as Matt talked to Toby about the possibility of meeting the kids from town the next day.