by Ksenia Anske
“Panther.”
“You apologized.”
“It’s not her, it’s me, okay?”
“You said you love her! And what did she say?”
“I shouldn’t have erupted yesterday. Shouldn’t have lost control. It was completely and utterly foolish. You know how she is, so don’t give me that look. I have other things to worry about.”
“Like what?”
“Like I thought for sure grandfather would take you away. Wonder why he didn’t.” Lilith finished one waffle and started on another.
“He’s afraid I’ll fart in his face and make him die of canine flatulence suffocation,” Panther growled.
“Very funny.” Lilith brushed the crumbs off her bed. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“I didn’t know you’re telepathic.”
“You’re wrong. Contrary to what you think, I don’t think mom or dad told grandfather anything.” Lilith rubbed the spot where the crow nabbed her, looking out the window. Rain droned on, worse than before.
“That is not what I was thinking about.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking about a nap.” Panther yawned in an obnoxiously loud manner.
“A nap.”
No response.
“Panther!” She shook him. “Aren’t you worried? We’re supposed to be investigating!”
“Your grandfather is a creep, he kills people, and the rosebush woman eats them. Done.” Panther rolled away.
“These are merely guesses. You’re the one who always insists on facts, whatever happened to that? We don’t know anything for sure. I asked Ed if grandfather kills people. He said yes and no. I think what he meant was that grandfather lures them into the garden and leaves them there for the bushes. Or something like that. Regardless, how they die doesn’t change a thing. It’s the fact that they are dying that’s hair-raising.”
“My hair is perfectly smooth, thank you.”
“Listen. We’ve got to stop it, period. We need to find out what big thing is going to happen. Whatever Monika meant by due. We’ll be saving lives, think about that.”
“Since when are you so concerned about the lives of strangers?”
“What kind of a question is that? Aren’t you?”
“I’m a dog.”
“Panther Bloom Junior.”
“Fine. Let’s investigate, in blazing squirrels. Where do we start?”
“This room is too small.” Lilith slid from the bed and twirled in front of the mirror.
“Too small for what?”
“For an emergency ballet practice. I can’t think properly, my brain is fuzzy. It’s too quiet, like before a thunderstorm. I don’t like it. Why doesn’t the garden stink anymore?” She jumped, overtaken by inspiration. “Let’s escape! Right now. Let’s sneak out of here and find a bigger room to practice.”
“I’m perfectly comfortable here. Besides, didn’t your grandfather promise to take me away in case we, you know...”
“Oh, come on,” Lilith said, inclining her head. “We’ll be extra careful. We can swing by the kitchen to see if that cook—”
“Monika,” growled Panther with affection.
“If Monika can give you the steak I promised you.”
Panther perked up. “Well, in that case...”
They exchanged a mischievous glance.
As logical as Panther was, he was a dog. As much as Lilith wanted to solve the mystery of the garden, she was a twelve-year-old girl, and neither girls nor dogs liked being locked up. Overtaken by the fever of pursuit, they didn’t care much about what their actual pursuit was, as long as they did something dangerously exciting as opposed to sitting idle. The only missing thing was Ed’s presence, and Lilith decided to pay him a visit. The fact that she could be spotted on her way, and that neither she nor Panther had the key to the door, never crossed her mind.
Chapter 12
The Emergency Ballet Escapade
The next hour flew by as Lilith prepared for their adventure: taking things out of her bag, dusting them off, and putting them back in. Ed’s map of the garden, a pack of tissues, a journal, a pen, and The Hound of the Baskervilles, a corner still bent on page thirteen. She slung the bag over her shoulder and fixed her beret. It kept her thoughts together, making them work while she danced.
“How do I look?” Lilith spun in front of the mirror, not to make sure that she looked good, but to make sure there were no snags or creases. Her appearance had to be perfect because ballet demanded perfection, which is why Lilith loved it.
“Splendid, as always, madam.” Panther yawned. “I thought we were supposed to get steak? About an hour ago?”
Lilith gave him the look.
“Women,” he grumbled. “Dogs are where it’s at. Take me, for example. I’m ready to go at a moment’s notice, no need for excessive frills or thrills or-”
“I don’t want to hear it. Who asked for a pink jacket?”
“Not pink. Rosy. Big difference.”
“Whatever. Let’s get out of here.” Lilith patted her bag and marched to the door. “You know what I realized? I haven’t had any time to read lately. It’s dreadful, really. I should—” She stopped and twisted the doorknob. It was hopelessly and indisputably locked.
“Great.”
“What is it, dear Holmes? Has your genius left you in tatters?” Panther scratched his back.
“Go on. Pretend like you remembered.” Lilith peeked through the keyhole, studied the knob from the left, then from the right, leaning in so closely her nose touched it. “Why haven’t I noticed before?”
“Noticed what?” Panther eyed the knob curiously.
“My dear Watson, surely you do not wish to tell me that you have not deduced a pattern to this mansion’s behavior?”
Panther’s fur covered his blushing.
Lilith motioned to the room. “It moves. It opens up in the morning and closes off at night, right?”
“And?”
“And.” Lilith waited.
Panther looked genuinely puzzled.
“It behaves like a flower. It’s a rose. No, it’s a rosebush. One giant stone rosebush. Remember the heads?”
“I’m afraid this new concept is rather irrelevant to our current problem. Would you care to explain in more detail how it will help us open the door?” Panther scoffed, but Lilith was already off to test her theory.
She emerged from the bathroom, unceremoniously moved her pet aside, and upended a glass of water on the doorknob.
“Watch,” she whispered.
They gaped at the knob. It was carved to resemble a bloom.
Nothing happened.
“Are we supposed to stare at it until we go blind?”
Before Lilith could answer, the knob shifted. It shuddered. It shook. It slowly sucked in every drop of water and began to unravel, petal by petal, turning at the same time. Another second and the door swung open.
They exchanged an astounded glance.
“Wicked! What did I say?” Lilith’s heart raced.
“I bow to your genius, dear Holmes.” Panther kneeled on his forelegs. “Please accept my apologies for doubting you.”
“You’re graciously forgiven, dear Watson. Now, please get up. You’re embarrassing me.”
They peeked out. The corridor was deserted. Servants were off packing roses for delivery. Guests hid from the rain in their rooms, gossiping and waiting for lunch. What else was there to do? Alfred’s distaste for technology resulted in zero TVs and one ancient rotary phone that Gustav answered each time it trilled in the vestibule.
Elated by her discovery, Lilith couldn’t wait to show her mother, to prove that she wasn’t imagining things. She put down the empty glass.
“Where do you propose we go?” grumbled Panther.
“Out,” said Lilith.
Panther took a few steps into the corridor and sat on his tail. “Okay, I’m out. What’s next?”
“Can you please be quiet
? We’re supposed to—”
But what they were supposed to do, Lilith didn’t get a chance to finish. Shuffling movement told them that Trude Brandt successfully eavesdropped on their entire conversation and prepared to make an entrance, or outrance, if such a word existed, to describe her hobble out of her room.
Lilith carefully clicked the door shut and they took off, running like two convicts escaping prison, stopping every few paces and pressing themselves into the wall, as if that made them invisible. Lilith desperately tried flattening her tutu, and Panther thought that by standing still he could pass for a statue.
Perhaps Trude changed her mind, as she never surfaced.
Their hearts drummed in unison. Any minute a guest could open a door and cause an end to their adventure. So far, they almost made it to the staircase and neither had the faintest idea of where they were going, when a shriek made them freeze. A long drawn-out string of German words followed.
Behind the nearest door a heavy body fell and fists pounded on the floor in rhythmic smacks. The voice belonged to either Daphne or Gwen, who performed a teenage tantrum.
“What’s she saying?” Lilith stole a glance at Panther. He perked up one ear. Behind the door, Irma Schlitzberger proceeded to murmur something soothing to calm her daughter.
“I daresay, quite the demand. Sounds like one of the elephantine piglets wants your beret.” He sniffed. “And if I were you, I’d step away from that door.”
Crashing footsteps preceded furious twisting of the door’s knob. Both the girl and the whippet took off, fleeing along the corridor, bypassing the staircase, and skidding to a halt by an empty room, its doorway yawning wide. Lilith grabbed Panther and ran in.
Without a beat, the door slammed shut and they sped upward. Lilith recalled her mother saying on the plane that Alfred’s rose fertilizer laboratory took up an entire floor. The mansion had only three floors, not counting the tower in the middle. They were clearly headed upward. Lilith’s spine turned to ice at the thought of where they were headed and what her grandfather did there.
The room jolted and came to a halt. The girl and her pet found themselves splattered against the floor. Scratching at the parquet to stand, Panther growled. “This mansion indeed appears to have a mind of its own.”
“Perhaps it’s trying to help us,” Lilith panted, fixing her beret.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Would you be so kind as to remind me why we had to leave your room?”
“For an emergency ballet escapade. To think.”
“Ah, how forgetful of me. I thought we were getting steak.”
“After. We were going to get you steak after.”
“I thought we were going to get me steak before. I must’ve heard you wrong. My fault. Well, if I may so humbly observe, this room appears to be rather identical to yours in size. Try watering it, maybe it will grow?”
“You’re being incredibly helpful, as always.” Lilith stood, trying the doorknob. “It’s locked.”
“Naturally. It requires payment, don’t you think?” Panther sneered, his pride restored.
Lilith scowled at him.
“I’m sure if you asked it politely, it would tell you what, how much, and how bloody, which reminds me. I’m certainly in the mood for bloody steak, which someone promised me, if I may mention.” Panther licked his muzzle.
Ignoring him, Lilith turned on her heel, marched to the bathroom, and returned with water cupped in her hands. She splashed it on the knob. Every drop got sucked in, but nothing happened.
“Obviously, it wants more.”
“Obviously.”
It took Lilith several trips until the knob shook in smug satisfaction, having absorbed every drop.
“I tell you, I’ve seen things,” Panther growled philosophically, “squirrels chasing their tails like dogs, dogs climbing trees like squirrels, but I’ve never seen a house behave like a flower, demanding to be watered.”
The door flew open with an upset thud. The next moment they were spit out into the corridor. The room behind them sealed itself and descended to its level, clearly upset. They didn’t have time to contemplate, because a new curiosity stole their attention.
As much as the second floor was white, the third floor was red. It glowed like the pulsing guts of someone alive, stinking faintly. To make matters worse, the floor gleamed with a polished sheen that reminded Lilith of coagulated blood. She wanted to hang in the air, so that her feet didn’t touch it. Panther whimpered, demanding to be held, his ability to talk forgotten.
“Excuse me, dear red color. You’re one of my favorites, but this is, frankly, a little bit much,” Lilith said.
Two voices and two sets of footsteps, one heavy and one trotting, rang through the corridor. Gustav fired off what sounded like complaints, and Alfred answered with a curt, “Ja, ja.”
Panther whined. Lilith shushed him.
They had to run, but where? Lilith’s heart pounded in her head, preventing her from thinking clearly, and Panther’s thrashing in her arms only added to her panic. Instead of running toward the staircase, risking to be seen yet having a chance to pass their unsuspecting pursuers, she ran toward the end of the hallway. Panther squirmed. Lilith’s ballet slippers slid, their soles worn smooth; and with a shriek she collapsed into a wall, sprawling and banging her head. Blood shot out of her nose. The voices and footsteps paused, then Alfred shouted something and they broke into a run.
“Just spectacular. Absolutely, spiffing spectacular,” Lilith complained, thinking there was no point in keeping quiet. “And the reason you couldn’t keep still is...?”
“I suddenly needed to relieve myself of a certain liquid,” Panther growled.
Lilith stared. “What?”
“Pee! I need to pee!”
A new gush of blood prevented Lilith from answering. She wiped it as best she could and cleaned her hand on the wall to prevent from staining her ballet attire. Without a warning, the wall split open and sucked in both the girl and the dog, closing itself shut.
Darkness and silence surrounded them like velvet.
“Panther?” Lilith whispered.
“It’s best we stay quiet, madam,” Panther growled under his breath.
“Just making sure.”
Lilith put her hands on the floor, propping herself up, and stifled a cry. Something lapped the blood off her fingers, and it wasn’t the whippet.
Chapter 13
The Red Gallery
Lilith sniffed her hands. They were clean. Too petrified to speak, she felt warm liquid seep out of her nose and hit the floor. The floor slurped it up. In the same way the room below drank water, this one drank blood. Lilith went rigid with horror, expecting it to bleed her to death. She didn’t dare feel around for Panther, who wisely didn’t dare feel for her.
Both girl and dog sat still for what felt like an eternity, listening for any disturbance. Not a single sound reached them. In fact, it was eerily quiet. The air had a weird tinge to it, as if something dehydrated and died, leaving the faint memory of its original odor. It gave Lilith the creeps.
Gradually, light spilled from nowhere and everywhere.
They found themselves in a large windowless room, its every surface painted red. Dozens of portraits in heavy frames, shiny at one point, covered the walls floor to ceiling. There was no furniture except a pedestal in the middle of the room that resembled a thick thorny stem, the flower missing.
“It’s a gallery,” Lilith whispered.
“I haven’t noticed.” Panther inched closer.
“I think it feeds on blood. It licked the blood off my fingers.”
“That’s encouraging. I must say, we’re having incredible luck with your emergency ballet escapade. Not to mention me getting my promised steak. Anything else it eats?”
Lilith gaped at one of the paintings. A woman’s face looked back at her, and she could’ve sworn its eyes moved. “Don’t know. Only, I get the feeling that the heads on the wall were nothing compared to these.”
“Lucky for you. I get no such feeling. The only feeling I have is an intense desire to get out of here as soon as possible.” Panther scratched at the wall.
Lilith regarded him. “Please stop behaving like an incongruent coward. What’s the matter with you? Are you a dog or not? Can’t you smell it?”
She stood and walked to the wall.
“I’ll bark if you touch it.” Panther shook. “I mean it.”
Lilith cocked her head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it appears this gallery is soundproof, or at least it hushes the sound, because by now grandfather would’ve heard us and extracted us from here. Thus, I don’t think anyone will hear you. You may bark to your heart’s desire.”
Panther licked his muzzle. “Don’t get me wrong. I love juicy steak, love it, but I’m in no particular hurry to become one.”
“Thank you for deeming me idiotic enough to stick my finger into one of these,” said Lilith. “And thank you for being so concerned about me. To inform you, my nose has mercifully stopped bleeding and I’m in no rush to slam my head on the floor in order to produce more blood to get us out. In case you haven’t noticed, there is no bathroom in here. Not that it would help. This gallery takes blood as payment, and I’d expect it to be your turn to produce a certain fluid that will get us out of here.”
“Do you propose I bleed myself to death?”
“Do you propose I do?”
Panther hung his tail.
“If you have nothing else to say, I will proceed with our investigation, dear Watson, while you stand guard.” Lilith leaned closer to the portrait.
A dead face stared at her, a mask of a woman with long hair. It looked as if it could come alive any second. Something was very wrong about it, and it smelled bad.
“It’s just the mansion trying to tell me something, like the heads. It’s just a portrait, just a portrait...” Lilith soothed herself, but she knew perfectly well it wasn’t. She sensed it on a gut level. Thick brush strokes of layer upon layer of paint covered what looked like—
Lilith swallowed, rooted to the spot. “The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance observes.” She whispered Sherlock Holmes’ words. “Panther?”