by Ksenia Anske
Guests greedily devoured the unfolding drama, commenting in German.
Lilith decided to go for the shock effect. “Grandfather, may I ask you how many people you plan on feeding to Rosehead?” She said it clearly and loudly, counting on the wild off-chance that her assumption was correct.
A few people chuckled.
Her grandfather’s face turned from pasty to green.
“What’s this you’re talking about? She doesn’t know what she’s saying.” He clasped his hands in mock horror. “She must be delirious. Gabby, dear—”
“What happened to my grandmother? I want to know,” Lilith said louder, cutting him off. “How did she die, exactly? Something in the rose garden killed her, didn’t it? And that something was Rosehead, wasn’t it?” Lilith pressed on. “Was it, Dad? Why was her casket sealed?”
“Pup. This is not—” Daniel’s mouth drooped. “What Rosehead?”
A few uncomfortable murmurs broke out.
“Lilith. How dare you. We came here to honor your grandmother’s memory, not to make fun of it, and certainly not to remind your grandfather about his very personal pain by inventing wild stories.” Gabby gripped Lilith with the intent of marching her out.
Lilith resisted vigorously. Panther bit Gabby’s ankle. She let go with a shriek. An awkward upheaval ensued, with Gabby trying to snatch Panther’s tail, Daniel trying to stop Gabby, and Alfred trying to restrain them both.
Terrified of missing her chance, oblivious to the danger of being permanently categorized as mentally ill, Lilith yelled at the top of her lungs.
“Grandfather, come on! It will save us both precious time. Why do you want me to be the heir to this property? So I can do the dirty work for you, is that it? I have the right to know. If you won’t tell me, I will figure it out on my own, no matter where you lock me up. Why don’t you tell your lovely guests where you found my rosy beret. Or what exactly you’re hiding in the rose garden. Why don’t you tell them about Rosehead?”
“What’s she talking about?” Daniel said, bewildered.
“Son, I know as much as you do. Please take your daughter to her room. I believe she needs rest.” Alfred threw a falsely pitiful look at Lilith, fixing his suit.
“Daniel, he’s right,” said Gabby.
“She’s not a dog to be stuffed in a kennel. She deserves the courtesy of being asked.” Daniel’s voice had the acidity typically reserved for quarrels regarding whippets and mastiffs.
Lilith smiled.
“Pup,” he said as he kneeled, “do you want to go to your room? You can groom yourself, eat some food, we’ll talk. What do you say?”
“No use asking, let’s just carry her. I want to call that doctor immediately.” Gabby seized Lilith under her armpits, ready to heave her if that’s what it took.
“Gabby! Let go!” Daniel said aghast.
“I’d appreciate it if you let me walk on my own, Mother.” Lilith wiggled out. “I can still tell left from right, thank you very much. Worst case scenario, I’ll pour water on the floor, or blood, and the mansion will carry me where I need to go.” She cast a venomous glance at her grandfather, whose face remained a sorrowful mask.
Guests watched them exit, their mouths open, eager to erupt into delicious gossip. Just as they mounted the staircase, Petra’s voice tinkled brightly from behind. “Mommy, are they taking her to the mad house?”
Lilith’s chest constricted at the thought of her being slaughtered, together with the others. For what? To benefit Bloom & Co., to feed the rose garden, to make Alfred Bloom more money. That much was obvious. Anger surged through her veins in hot ropes.
She had to stop this, no matter the cost. She had to make people believe her. Sherlock Holmes would’ve said, there is nothing more stimulating than a case where everything goes against you. Only that was the famous Sherlock Holmes, easy for him to say. And who was Lilith Bloom? Just a twelve-year-old girl who’d been labeled mentally unstable for most of her life. She bitterly regretted her outburst. Who’d listen to her now?
There remained the hope of talking to Rosehead tomorrow, with Ed’s help, provided they weren’t eaten first. Deep in thought, Lilith barely noticed how her mother heatedly opposed the idea of Panther spending the night in her room, and how her father argued back that this is precisely why he gave the puppy to Lilith in the first place. He wanted her to have a loyal friend, and tonight she needed him more than ever. She barely registered Panther’s satisfied yapping and soon found herself seated on her bed, a tray of dinner placed on the bedside table by Monika, and a bowl of chopped up steak on the floor.
Lilith picked up the fork and stuck it into the sausage, biting and chewing automatically.
Meanwhile, her mother dialed the doctor’s number and, apologizing for the late call, explained the dire need for him to come out fist thing in the morning for a session with her daughter. Several times she had to repeat herself.
Daniel watched Lilith eat, his face blank.
“Dad,” Lilith whispered urgently, eyeing her mother’s back, “what kind of an accident caused grandma to die? I know we don’t talk about it, but I’d really like to know.” She swallowed, waiting.
Shadows circled her father’s eyes. “Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow, after you’ve had a chance to rest? Not a very easy story for me to tell.”
“I don’t remember her at all. Have I ever seen her?” Lilith grabbed her chance by the throat, ready to stop at a moment’s notice.
Panther protectively curled around her feet, ears flitting back and forth to catch every word.
“No, you’d never met. She—we were going to visit, but then she had...an accident,” said her father dully.
Lilith’s hand stopped, the sausage inches from her face. “I know it was an accident. But what happened?” She lowered the fork to the plate.
“What happened?” Daniel glanced back nervously.
Gabby negotiated the time, repeating herself to the recipient on the other end who apparently didn’t understand English very well.
“All right. You see,” he said, then scratched his chin, “she had a similar disorder as you. Er...I don’t mean anything bad by this word, pup, it’s simply—”
“It’s okay, Dad, don’t worry, I don’t mind. And?” Lilith urged him on, dinner forgotten. Panther, his bowl empty, carefully pulled the sausage off her fork, dragged it to the floor, and gulped it as fast as he could.
“This disorder, it’s—it’s genetic, in many cases. Really, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed,” Lilith said firmly, having read numerous books on a quest to understand what was wrong with her, because she felt perfectly normal.
Daniel massaged his temples. “She didn’t have agility, I mean, no sense of direction. She could get lost in a clump of trees, like a stray dog. She’d panic, hyperventilate, or even pass out. Happened many times. Dad—your grandfather—had to take care of me alone. Often. You see, the rose garden was the only place where she didn’t feel lost. She loved the flowers, loved smelling them and making bouquets. Your grandfather planted special bushes for her, named them after her. Eugenia.”
“I saw that,” said Lilith.
“Gustav or Agatha were always there, always keeping her company.”
“And?”
“And, their job was to make sure she was okay; to come help if she needed it, but to stay hidden. Let her think she was on her own. They never let her out of their sight. Of course, your grandmother was a very clever woman. She figured out they spied on her, and somehow managed—”
“Daniel! Are you out of your mind?”
Neither Daniel, nor Lilith, nor Panther—busy with his sausage—noticed that for the past minute Gabby stood over them, arms akimbo, eyes vicious behind her metal-rimmed glasses.
“The last story she needs to hear right now is this, especially before bedtime! I can’t believe it. Have you got no sense?”
“But love, it’s her pedigree, she’ll find out e
ventually. There’s no harm.”
“No harm? Am I the only one here who has to keep a straight head? It’s not made of steel, you know?” Gabby’s voice rang with tears, and one of her knitting needles was dangerously close to falling out. “I thought I lost my baby forever—our baby, Daniel, our baby. But somebody has to call the doctor. Somebody has to keep the tabs, keep moving things forward, and it’s always me, always me. I can’t function like this anymore. I simply can’t.” She issued a dramatic sob.
“Gabby, love.” Daniel reached out.
“Don’t touch me!” She sniffled. “And you, missy, go take a shower and take these.” Lilith received two tablets in her hand. “You’ll sleep in our room, and you—” She pointed at Panther.
He growled.
“Gabby!” Daniel turned his wife around forcefully. “Stop it! Let her be, okay? Lilith, pup, do you want us to stay, or do you want us to leave you alone?”
Both parents peered at her, mother speechless from shock, father speechless from expectation.
“Um...” Lilith gulped, uncertain. “Would it be okay if I slept in my room? With Panther?” She composed her features into what she hoped constituted as pure innocence, and added, “No pills?”
Gabby took in a lungful of air.
Daniel beat her. “Sure. If you need anything, just knock on our door. We’ll see you in the morning. Now, rest, please. Sleep. You must sleep.” Before he could wrestle his wife out of the room, she broke his embrace and, to Lilith’s utter surprise, scooped her into a hug and kissed her. Lilith’s arms hung idly. The pills rolled onto the floor.
Panther barked at them in the way dogs bark at a pair of hideous cockroaches.
“I know you don’t like me much,” Gabby whispered. “Still. I love you, never forget that.” She let go, grabbed her husband’s hand, and they rushed out of the room.
Lilith stared at the door, and then at Panther, who licked his muzzle, feeling very pleased with himself for scoring a fine meal without being scolded.
“Can I pee on them?” he asked hopefully, sniffing the tablets.
Lilith blinked. “What was that about?”
Panther sighed. “That, madam, was about parental love dispersed liberally in an alarmingly short amount of time due to strenuous circumstances that forced the display of such affection in order for the child—”
“Panther.”
“Pardon me. In order for the adolescent to feel secure despite the typical familial chaos and lack of appropriate agreement between parents as to how they should deal with their delicate daughter who is extremely sensitive—”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Lilith interrupted. “Eloquently said.”
“Thank you. I’ll take it as a compliment. Now, however, I ask you to please put all of this out of your adolescent head. We’ve got business to attend to, my dear Holmes.” Panther stuck out his chest importantly.
“Why, my dear Watson, I’m happy you’re willing to continue our investigation.” Lilith smiled.
This evening proved to be a successful affair. She stood up to her grandfather, her father stood up to her mother, and her friend Ed promised to lead them to a secret place, to talk to a real monster. They were going to save people’s lives.
Lilith grinned. The dangerous investigation into the Bloom heir legacy has matured into its prime.
Chapter 18
The Fortuitous Ally
Night rolled over the garden. The air stilled, subsiding the stink. In another place and time, Lilith would’ve taken it as a peaceful prelude to a good night’s sleep. Alas, the quiet disturbed her. She imagined Rosehead lying low in anticipation of the perfect moment to strike. Stripped out of her ruined clothes, Lilith took a shower, combed her hair, cleaned her bag, wiped Panther with a wet towel to his loud displeasure, and changed into her reading outfit—a navy skirt and cardigan, with her blue beret as the final touch.
“You’re not planning on sleeping then?” Panther yawned.
“What? I thought you said we needed to attend to business?”
“An hour ago. I changed my mind now. I’m tired. And your grandfather is a bloody moron.”
Lilith climbed onto the bed, one leg dangling over the edge. “You’ve said that a million times. Is anything else new?”
“Actually, I am trying something new. Wouldn’t you humbly agree with my opinion? At least once, would you take off your carefully constructed composure and tell me what you really think about him? So far I’ve only heard you yell, He’s a murderer! He’s a murderer! Well, it doesn’t count. I’m interested in your calm observations, please.” Panther lolled out his tongue.
Lilith thought of her mental list: brute, book hater, liar, murderer. “I don’t think about anything apart from how to stop him,” she lied. Panther’s banter annoyed her. “Anything else you want to tell me? About anyone else, by chance?”
She plopped onto the pillows. Panther plopped onto her lap.
“Certainly. Gladly. Let’s see here. Your mother is a fussy squirrel-brain, your father is a hesitant pillow-breath, and your friend Ed is a hormonal cookie-cake.”
Lilith raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”
“There is more, mind you. Bär is a bag of skin three sizes too large for his bones. The Schlitzberger twins are two elephant-hugging piglets. And Rosehead,” he said, scratching his ear, “is a blood-sucking, stinking, mega-hairy plant-freak.”
“Interesting. May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What about me?”
“You? You’re my beloved friend.” He wagged his tail.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“You’re very bad at lying, you know that? I can see you blushing.”
“It’s the warmth of friendly love in my precious doggy face. I mean it, with the most wholesome sincerity of a purebred whippet. You’re my friend and that is all.” He stuck his nose under a pillow.
“Okay, if that’s the case, thank you. It was extremely accurately observed, oh Panther, my forever amicable good-humored partner. Now, please kindly get ready as we are about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.”
“Sounds horribly dangerous. What’s the plan?”
“The plan is to ponder what grandfather is up to and how we’ll get out of here tomorrow. Unnoticed.”
“I thought we found the solution to that?”
“Flying through the sky and hoping to land in a friendly rosebush is not precisely my idea of exiting with grace, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“You’ll barf out your breakfast and the mansion will make us invisible. Vomit is one of the liquids we haven’t tried yet.”
Lilith threw him a look.
“Fine. I’ll ponder with you. But can I at least have a nap first?”
“No. And stop acting like a cat,” Lilith said crossly. Surveying the contents of her bag, she found Ed’s map of the garden, a pen, a journal for notes, and The Hound of the Baskervilles, a corner still bent on page thirteen.
“You’re sure this is the most desirable position for the night?” Panther waddled over to the other side. “May I suggest we sit here, so that in the tragic event that more heads appear, they won’t be breathing down our necks.”
Lilith’s eyes fired up with excitement. “That’s it! Brilliant, simply brilliant.” She kissed an uncomprehending Panther and disappeared into the bathroom.
“What’s brilliant?”
A full glass of water in hand, Lilith hastily walked back and doused the liquid on the wall above the headboard. Every drop was absorbed, and the entire room heaved, as if asking for more.
“Remember what happened last time when you fed it?” Panther grumbled disapprovingly.
Undeterred, Lilith made several enthusiastic trips to the bathroom and back. Water kept disappearing, but nothing happened. Tired of the repetitive task, Lilith dropped onto the bed, tossing the empty glass aside.
“It’s not doing anything,” she muttered. �
��Why isn’t it working?”
Panther strolled to the window, tail curled in defiance. “You’re asking me? Pfft. You may have registered the fact that whenever I give you precious advice, you dismiss it. I feel like it doesn’t matter what I say, you won’t listen, so why bother?”
“Suit yourself. I’ll investigate on my own.” Lilith fiercely leafed through the book.
“What are you doing?” Panther craned his neck.
“Seeking advice from someone who doesn’t demand steak or fancy pink—”
“Rosy.”
“Pink jackets, or twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week uninterrupted attention. Someone who doesn’t throw a fit not worthy of a true crime investigator.”
Panther’s ears flattened. “I hate it when you do these spontaneous things without explaining what you’re up to.”
“I was of a higher opinion of your intelligence, dear Watson. There is no time for me to explain everything. Please use your brain.”
Panther issued a wounded bark.
Lilith shrugged, opened the book, and pointed to a random spot—her method of getting answers to life’s problems whenever her father wasn’t around, because whenever she asked her mother, she received an extensive lecture on a topic that had nothing to do with her original question. Of course, there was Panther, but, number one, he didn’t appear in her life until a year ago, and, number two, asking him typically resulted in an onslaught of sarcastic responses from the first day she discovered he could talk, when she contracted a fever and jokingly requested a cup of tea. Panther yapped that he’d be happy to bring her one in exchange for ten sugar cubes. No, he corrected himself to the gaping girl, make it twenty.
Smiling at the memory, Lilith read out loud, “When a crisis comes, as it will do...” Her face drained color. She couldn’t help but glance at Panther, who couldn’t help but glance back, their conflict forgotten. She continued reading. “I will direct how you shall act. I suppose that by Saturday all might be ready?”