L01-03. Lantern

by Chess Desalls

  Serah’s face twisted.

  “No? Okay, good. Because that would be a terrible name.”

  She repeated the gesture again, only this time she wriggled her fingers and pounded her legs, mimicking a monster.

  “Spooky? Though, way too cute to be frightening…” He lowered his eyelids. “But it is Halloween, so I’m guessing that was supposed to be a big, scary monster.”

  Serah bounced up and down. She mimed what Grady mistook earlier for peek-a-boo.

  “Scare?”

  She nodded, smiling.

  “Okay, let me think. Scary…Sherry?”

  Serah shook her head.

  “Scare. Uh... Scare-a.” He grinned. “Sara?”

  “Yes, Serah!” she yelled out, smiling and not caring that he couldn’t hear her.

  “Well then, Sara, it’s nice to meet you.” He wiped his palm across his face. “Given how long it took to get one word out of you, I’m not sure how you’re going to explain being inside a lantern.”

  Serah shrugged.

  He squeezed his head with his hands. “Don’t tell me this is part of a Halloween prank. Because if you’re actually somewhere else being projected in there as a flame, that trick would be awesome. That’s it, isn’t it? Oh, you got me good. You’re working with my boys as part of a setup, aren’t you?”

  Serah stared at him, confused. Even if she had understood what he’d meant by being projected or part of a setup, she couldn’t imagine how her situation could be considered a trick or a joke. What did Machin make me do? What have I done by opening the lantern? And what have I become?

  “Are you all right in there, little flame-girl…er, Sara?” He was staring at her, now, with a worried look in his eyes.

  She frowned and squeezed her arms across her stomach.

  “So this isn’t a prank? You’re really in there?” He shuddered at the sad look she gave him. He swallowed, and then added, “Then I’ll try to get you out.”

  Before she could respond, Grady’s hands were on the globe, pulling and twisting.

  “It won’t open like that,” murmured Serah, wincing at the squeaking noises his hands made along the glass. “But, maybe…”

  She pressed her own tiny hands to the glass and squinted outside. A halo of moon was visible in the dome of the sky. Wisps of moonlight reached out to her with a memory, a feeling. An idea of how to escape her prison of glass.

  “Grady!” she said, when his hands pulled away. He stood, frowning and out of breath.

  She pointed to the moon. “Tilt the lantern—the globe—up toward the light of the moon.”

  He shook his head at her. “I can’t hear you. What are you trying to tell me?”

  “Up!” she said, slamming her hands against the glass. Her flame began to flicker, out of control. She ran to one side of the globe and bounced off the glass, and then to the other side—back and forth, pulsing and bouncing, until the globe began to swing.

  Grady took a step backward and placed a hand over his brow. “Calm down. You’re going fall off the pole and hurt yourself.”

  “But,” she huffed. “I have—” She bounced again; her shoulder stung from the impact with glass. “To tilt the globe.”

  A beam of moonlight sparkled and stretched toward her. She ran to it with open arms and smacked into the glass. The globe swung higher. Serah gritted her teeth at the creaking and scraping of metal that echoed from wall to wall. The lantern sprang free from its pole and flew upward.

  The beam connected with the globe and bent inward, warming Serah’s cheeks and nose. Warmth spread, mixing the moonlight into her own being of flame. Two hands encased the glass and cushioned the bottom of the globe, holding it in the path of the beam and lengthening the moment, just as the lantern began to fall.

  When the globe was full, unable to absorb more light, the beam fragmented and scattered into a thousand sparkles.

  The flame snuffed out, leaving a thin trail of smoke inside the globe.

  Chapter 12

  Grady held the empty globe in his hands. He looked up at an ordinary moon, then behind his shoulder before placing the lantern back on its pole.

  “What was that?” He peered inside the globe. “Where did you go?”

  Serah caught her breath, smiling at the sensation of air filling her lungs. She hugged herself against the night’s chill as she stepped out of the shadows, her feet and body no longer made of flame.

  “I’m here—”

  Grady turned and coughed as she neared, frowning until she was close enough that the top of her head reached the tip of his chin. His eyes grew wide with a twinkle of recognition. He pointed to Serah, then to the empty globe.

  “You’re—the girl who was in the lantern?”

  “Yes, Grady.”

  His eyebrow lifted, and he scratched his head. “So that’s what your voice sounds like,” he said, grinning.

  Now that she could see more than a face, or a nose or an eye, pressed to glass, she noticed his clothes were like nothing she’d seen before. His breeches were blue and unlike those worn by boys and men in Havenbrim. Red and black checkered boxes covered a thick, collared tunic. His bright eyes and smile were fully locked on her, his expression a mix of surprise and suspicion.

  Serah blushed. Her hands moved to smooth the folds of her dress. He must find me strange as well, she thought. Especially given how I showed up here. If this isn’t Havenbrim, where is here?

  Her fingertips stumbled across an object caught in the fabric. Moonlight bounced off a surface, a flash of brass, and fell to the ground.

  Squinting, Serah lifted what had fallen.

  “What is it?” said Grady, stepping closer.

  “A tiny door made of brass.” She stared at the object. “It has a plate with the letter K etched into it.”

  Grady frowned. “Does it have anything to do with how you got here?”

  “I don’t know. Where is here?”

  “In the woods behind my house.”

  Serah blinked. In the darkness, the trees were no different than those in the forest between Machin’s cottage and Havenbrim proper. “What is the name of your village?”

  Grady began to laugh.

  “Where am I?” Serah said, her voice serious.

  “We’re in Smyrna, Tennessee.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a place.”

  Serah dodged his look of surprise by focusing on the brass door that fit neatly in her palm. She turned the door over and inspected its other side. A brown tag was attached to the object with twine. She read the tag, “Knock twice before opening the locket to find Havenbrim on the other side. I wish you the best, Machin.”

  “Havenbrim?”

  “That’s my home, my village,” said Serah. “Havenbrim, Llum.”

  Grady scratched his head. “What’s Llum?”

  “My country, of course.” Her voice was tight. Why would Machin send me here only for me to go back to Havenbrim? She frowned at the tiny brass door. This looks exactly like the door to my parents’ home.

  She pulled at a doorknob the size of a pea, careful not to accidentally knock first. Finding it empty, she sighed. Like my father said, there’s nothing for me there.

  She closed the door and tugged at the twine. The loop stretched wide enough to fit around her neck. She slipped the locket over her head. Then, remembering her manners, she smiled up at Grady.

  “I don’t know how I would have escaped the lantern without you,” she said. “Thank you for finding me.”

  “It was easy enough with all the flashing light pouring out of the lantern. The same thing happened last night.” He tilted his head to the side and grinned. “That was an amazing trick. How did you do it?”

  Serah creased her brow. “There was no trick. It really happened.”

  “I’m sorry, little flame-girl, but I don’t believe you. I can think of all kinds of ways to do that with lighting and technology. I’m just curious about what you actually did, and which of my friends put you up to
it.”

  “But I don’t know your friends. How could I have survived inside the globe, alone, with no food or water?”

  “Like I said, I think it was a projection inside the glass, which means you were actually somewhere else.” His arms crossed his chest as he inspected the lantern and its pole. “Though, I haven’t worked out the part where the globe started swinging back and forth, or how you got outside so quickly.”

  He scratched his head and murmured, “Or maybe the projection was recorded, and you were standing out here the whole time.”

  Serah blinked. His explanation of what had happened seemed wrong, somehow, but no less mysterious than Machin’s methods.

  “No worries.” He winked. “If you won’t tell me, one of my friends will eventually fess up. It’s Halloween night, and most of them will be at Abigail’s party. I think you should go with me.”

  “A party?” Serah looked down at her dress and wrinkled her nose.

  “Yeah. You’re already in your Halloween costume, right? Either that or dressed up for a Renaissance Fair.”

  “Costume?” Serah brushed off her skirt and fussed with the braids piled on top of her head. “A…what kind of fair?”

  Grady chuckled. “And you’re exceptionally good at staying in character. So what do you say? Will you go to the party with me?”

  Serah looked around, frowning. Her fingers slid across the locket. I don’t have anywhere else to go but home. And I don’t know anyone else here.

  “Yes,” she said with a shiver. “I’ll go with you to the party.”

  “Good. Here, take my jacket.” He removed the red and black garment Serah had thought was a tunic and wrapped it around her. “We have just enough time for me to get changed first.”

  Serah looked back at the lantern, one last time, before following Grady through the woods.

  The farther they walked, the more the trees thinned. When they stepped into a clearing a farmhouse came into view. The garage next to it was painted like a barn.

  “My father works on a farm,” Serah said with a bittersweet smile. “Your manor house is larger than our lord’s, though. You must be wealthy.”

  Grady gave her a funny look. “Um, no. My parents are both in the writing business. Mom works for a publishing company, and Dad writes from home.”

  “They’re not lords of this manor?”

  He shook his head with a smirk. “They bought an old farmhouse and fixed it up. They say it’s peaceful here.”

  “Then you live here?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is a publishing company, Grady?”

  “You don’t have to stay in character around me,” he said, chuckling. “You can save it for the party.”

  She balled her fists. “I don’t understand.”

  Grady opened the front door to the house and leaned in close before motioning for her to walk through. “You already fooled me with your lantern prank, Sara. You’re not going to get me with your girl-from-the-past routine, too. I’d never hear the end of it.”

  Chapter 13

  “Grady?” a voice called from inside the house. “Is that you?” The flick of a light switch followed.

  Serah slipped past the door Grady held open. A woman wearing blue breeches moved toward them, holding a steaming mug. Her blonde locks were cut short like Grady’s, only hers were fixed in curls that bounced when she walked.

  “Oh, hello.” The woman smiled. “Are you one of Grady’s friends from school?”

  Serah swallowed before answering, “No, my lady.” She twisted her fingers in the folds of her dress and looked to Grady for help.

  He squeezed the bridge of his nose, but a hint of a smile reached his lips. “Hey, Mom. This is Sara. She’s going to Abigail’s party, too.” He gave Serah a sideward glance. “We met in the woods—by the lantern.”

  Grady’s mother raised her brows. “Did you find out why that old lantern has been flashing like a beacon?”

  “We’re still investigating.” The tinge of suspicion in his voice made Serah blush. “It has to be one of the guys’ pranks. Sara won’t tell me which one she’s related to, but she looks the most like Mason.”

  “I see. Well, I love your costume.” Grady’s mother gestured toward a pair of sofas set deeper inside the room. “We can wait here in the sitting room while Grady gets changed.”

  Serah sat politely at the edge of a sofa, stunned by how such a cavernous space was used for nothing but sitting. And at how, despite all the room, it was more crowded than Machin’s cottage.

  Sparkling bats made of black and purple cloth dangled from ribbons stretched across the walls. Glass pumpkins and unlit candles in shades of orange and green covered shelves and tabletops, filling empty spaces between books and blanketing surfaces of wood. The light in the room shined from a chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Serah suppressed a gasp. Its bulbs shined bright and, like Machin’s lanterns, she couldn’t tell where the light came from. There were no candles, and no flame.

  “Would you like a hot drink before you leave for the party?”

  Serah watched tendrils of steam rise from the mug, then lowered her eyes. “No, thank you, my lady.”

  “You play your role well, dear.” Grady’s mother smiled and raised her brows. “Are you sure?”

  Humbled by being in the presence of a great lady, Serah pressed her lips together and nodded. Her mother had raised her not to accept charity she couldn’t return.

  “I’d insist but Abigail’s mother usually over-prepares, so there will be plenty to eat and drink at the party. No use getting filled up here.” She sipped at her drink.

  When she lifted her head, her gaze shifted to a window with a view of the moon. “The lantern you and Grady visited came with the property,” she explained. “It looked so peaceful where it was, I didn’t want to move it.”

  Serah felt her shoulders stiffen. She couldn’t help feeling responsible for something—for causing trouble for this nice, noble family. But she wasn’t sure for what.

  A sigh of relief escaped her lips at the sound of boots clomping down the stairs.

  Grady bowed before Serah and his mother. “What do you think?” he said, tugging at a belt made of rope wrapped around his waist.

  Serah blinked at his transformation. She stood from her seat and admired his tunic, which laced at the chest and hung to his knees. His breeches were brown and looser than his blue ones had been. “Where did you get clothes like these?”

  “In the attic.” He unfolded a pair of cloaks draped in his arm; he wrapped one around himself and handed the other to Serah. “Leftovers from the prior owners.”

  Grady’s mother smiled. “They must have been costume enthusiasts or history buffs. Farmers don’t wear clothes like that anymore.”

  “And they’re clean and appear to be firsthand,” Serah said, inspecting the cloak and its fabric, woolen with leather cords. At Grady’s puzzled expression, she added, “This looks like it has never been worn.”

  Or mended, she thought, suddenly self-conscious about her dress. She draped the cloak around her shoulders and fastened its ties.

  Grady looked down at her, his eyes amused. “So, do you think this will work?”

  She considered his question, and wondered whether Machin knew she’d find this young man on the other side of the lantern—the portal from Havenbrim to this new and interesting place. And yet he truly looks like he could be from Havenbrim.

  “If farmer’s clothing is more appropriate for a Halloween party in Smyrna, Tennessee than your regular clothing, then yes,” she said.

  “I agree. You two look perfect together,” said Grady’s mother. “Will you be taking the car?”

  After a long look at Serah, he chuckled. “I don’t think that would fit our theme, and there aren’t any horses in the garage.” He held open the door. “It’s not far, if you don’t mind walking.”

  “I’m used to walking, so I don’t mind,” she answered, then stepped through the doorway and into the
night.

  “So, where are you really from, Sara?”

  The moon highlighted the frown beneath her squinting eyes.

  Grady laughed and held up his palms. “You don’t have to expose whoever put you up to this.” He shrugged. “I thought it’d be nice to learn more about you since we’re going to the party together.”

  She crossed her arms and exhaled. “Just because you haven’t heard of Havenbrim doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I could tell you more about what my life was like there, if only you would ask.”

  “Okay, fine.” His lips quirked into a grin. “What is Halloween like in Havenbrim?”

  Serah shook her skirt free of leaves collected during the walk and turned to him with a thoughtful smile.

  “It’s a night of light and remembrances.” Moonbeams shone in her eyes. “Families light lanterns, and we bake fig cakes and gingerbread, which we wrap with ribbons and leave out for the hungry.”

  She frowned, thinking of Graham and his hammock in the forest, and wondered whether he would travel from house to house that night—following the light of the lanterns and collecting cakes left on doorsteps. Had Machin not taken her in, she would have been forced to do the same. Her mind flashed with a vision of herself sitting in the hollow beneath a pine tree and unwrapping cakes. With a shudder, she pulled the wool cloak more tightly around herself.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No,” Serah exhaled, shaking away the unpleasant thoughts. “Halloween is lovely in Havenbrim. It’s Machin’s—my master’s—favorite holiday. He’s a mechanic and glazier, and I am, or at least I was, his apprentice. I imagine he and Gelsey are celebrating right now.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot of detail I wouldn’t have thought to add,” Grady said under his breath. Doubt crept into his eyes, but Serah didn’t notice.

  Her attention was focused on something far grander than anything she’d seen in Havenbrim.

  Chapter 14

  Serah and Grady reached the end of the path.

  With the farmhouse behind them, they crossed a main road. Reds and yellows glowed from the other end of the street. Strings of lanterns hung from the porch roof of a two-story home.