Evelyn didn’t detect doubt in his voice; but there was a touch of worry, and also sadness. She couldn’t imagine why he didn’t want to help her. Maybe he doubts me? Does he think I’m making up the story of how I got here? She shook her head. How could he possibly doubt me when he’s the one working for the strangest man ever?
“I want you to know that whatever happens, I hope you’re happy, Evelyn.”
Her flame wobbled as he lifted the globe, up toward the light of the moon.
“Though, if you leave,” he whispered, “I prob’ly won’t be happy ’bout it.”
Oh. Could the problem be that Graham will miss me if I go home?
Another moonbeam stretched across the sky. Evelyn smiled at it, opening arms no one could see. I’ll miss him, too, but I can’t stay here forever.
She caught the moonbeam, letting the ray of moonlight mix with her own blue light.
The beam multiplied, converging and separating, until the globe was bursting with the brilliance of a sky full of stars.
Bye, Graham.
A strong, icy breeze blew and whistled across the porch. One by one, each of the candle lanterns burned out.
“Evelyn?” Graham’s voice sounded far away. “Ugh, not again.”
As the dazzle of light faded, Evelyn found herself surrounded by sulfurous clouds. Instead of the blue glow she’d grown used to, everything inside the globe and as far as she could see was bathed in white light. She would have thought she’d gone to Heaven if it hadn’t been for the rotten egg smell.
Evelyn felt a hand pinch her nose shut, but it did nothing to soothe the stench.
She hadn’t breathed in days; yet, suddenly, she gasped for air.
Her chest burned, her lungs begging her not to let them collapse.
Then, as if she’d really needed to breathe, she felt herself tumble forward, her eyelids closing as her entire body was wrapped in a chill of darkness.
Evelyn woke up, cold and coughing.
While her body rejected the last few puffs of sulfurous fumes, she noticed how dark it was outside—all except for the moon.
She heard three clicks, then a scratching sound, before a burst of blue flame cast its light on a young man holding a mechanical torch, several yards away.
Her eyes watered as the sulfurous odor returned, but it dissipated quickly in the open air.
“Evelyn?”
She knew that voice—Graham’s voice.
Evelyn sucked in a breath, startled when cool air filled her lungs.
She pressed her hands to her stomach and chest; the cloth of her jacket squished against her fingers. The article of clothing was an item separate from herself, no longer trapped in a prison of flame.
Her hands went to her sides, then explored the ground. She smiled as dirt and grass slipped beneath her fingers. Stretching out her legs, she sat up.
“Graham?”
The blue light shone nearer, from somewhere above.
“Evelyn?”
“Yes,” she said.
Graham’s face appeared, his features aglow with the torch’s blue light. His lips were parted and his eyes were large.
He stood there, staring. He closed his mouth, then held out a hand.
“I’m sorry. If I would’a known that would cause you to fall off the porch—”
“You’re real,” she squealed, taking his hand.
When she was steady on her feet, she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him close.
She pulled back, measuring her height against his, which was only a few inches shorter. She grinned at how quiet Graham had suddenly become. He returned her grin with a silly one of his own.
“Havenbrim is real,” she whispered. “I’m real. Again.”
Chapter 13
Graham
Graham held Evelyn’s hand tightly while they walked back to the cottage. He didn’t know how steady she would be, and the firmness of her fingers pressed against his helped validate what had happened.
He was anxious to tell Machin that the suggestion about the moonlight had worked, and that he’d completed the task without failing. Evelyn had been set free. Better than that, she was still here, in Havenbrim.
“Are you okay, Graham?” Evelyn whispered. “You haven’t said much since you helped me escape the lantern.”
“I’m surprised, that’s all. I wasn’t sure if you’d burned out, or if you’d been sent back to Erie. Either way, I thought I’d lost you forever.”
“Aww.”
He paused in front of the cottage door and frowned. “Are you crying?”
Evelyn waved her free hand in front her face like a fan.
“I’m overwhelmed, that’s all. The worry, the fear. At times I was also angry. And, now, you—”
He pressed his thumb to her cheek and brushed away a tear. His cheeks grew hot as he felt the surprising softness of her skin. Looking away, he glanced at the door.
“I’m sure there are others who’d like to see you.”
Evelyn laughed, wiping away additional stray tears that had spilled over and rolled along her cheeks. “You’re right,” she said. “I can’t wait for Machin and Gelsey to see me like this, too.”
Graham opened the cottage door. “Wait,” he said, twisting back around.
He looked up at the candle lanterns. They swung, still dark, on their hooks. His breath caught.
“What is it, Graham?”
“We need to find your lantern—my globe. I dropped it when its—or rather your—light burned out, and I went looking for you.”
She squeezed his hand. “Couldn’t we look for it in the morning?”
“Machin would be upset with me if he knew I left the globe outside for anyone passin’ by to take, ’specially since we’re already expectin’ visitors.”
He nodded toward the basket of cakes.
“Oh.”
“Let’s be quick about it, so we can talk to Machin and Gelsey before they go to sleep.”
Evelyn followed as Graham pulled her back into the dirt and grass, raising the blue torch in front of them as they inspected the ground.
“There it is,” Evelyn pointed. “Even though I spent so much time on the inside, I’d know it anywhere. Besides,” she laughed, “I doubt there are many stray globes lying around out here.”
Graham loosened his hand from hers and gently picked up the lantern. After inspecting the frame, and not finding it the slightest bit bent, he looked inside the globe.
“This is it, all right. One of my tasks is to tell Machin when any of the lanterns burn out. It hasn’t happened before during my ’prenticeship, so I don’t know what he does with them afterward. But, it must be important.”
Evelyn looked at the lantern warily. Graham smiled as she held out her hand.
When they reached the porch, Graham snuffed the torch and pulled Evelyn through the cottage’s entrance.
“Gelsey?” he called out. “Master Machin?”
When no one answered, he shrugged. “Guess they’ve already gone downstairs. This is the table where you’ve been stayin’,” he said, setting down the empty lantern.
He smiled at the expression on her face when she looked up at the lanterns that glowed white, seeing them for the first time as a flesh and blood person. He pulled her by both hands into the next room.
“And here’s the furnace where—”
Graham stopped in his tracks; his body straightened. His master stood quietly, working before the furnace.
“Gelsey has gone to her room for the night,” said Machin, not turning from the fire.
Graham cleared his throat. “Evelyn has something to say to you.”
“Thank you, Machin. For everything. Graham followed your instructions, and I’ve been set free.”
Machin turned; his gaze rested on their joined hands for a moment. He smiled calmly, but a tear threatened to escape the corner of his eye.
“I was hoping that would work. Welcome, once again, Evelyn Bowman.”
He seemed to compos
e himself quickly. His lips twitched into a serious line.
“Where is the globe?”
“I brought it inside and set it on the table, seein’ as it’s burned out.”
“Good work, Graham Webb,” said Machin, pressing a hand to his shoulder. He led Graham and Evelyn to the far end of the furnace room. “This has been an eventful day, hasn’t it?”
“I only know of one other Halloween that could rival it,” laughed Evelyn. Graham understood immediately that she was talking about her home—and the party where she’d spent Halloween before being transported to Havenbrim.
Machin smiled. “If the light from the fire and lanterns doesn’t bother you, you are welcome to sleep here by the furnace. Gelsey prepared this for you,” he said, indicating a space on the floor.
A cloth casing, filled with straw and covered with blankets and pillows, sat wedged in the corner.
“If she wakes to find you here in the morning, her opinion of my sanity will greatly improve,” he added. “I apologize that we don’t have extra beds in our underground rooms.”
“Please, don’t worry about it. This is great.” Evelyn yawned. “Not to mention timely. Thank you, Machin.”
“You are welcome. Goodnight, Evelyn Bowman.” He smiled again, then turned and disappeared down the floor hatch.
Graham stood quietly as Evelyn kicked off her shoes and removed her puffy coat. He studied the shirt she had tucked into her breeches. He wanted to ask why she dressed that way, but thought the topic better for another time. He was sure Gelsey would have an opinion on the matter at breakfast. He smiled, imagining what Evelyn would look like in a dress, in the style young women her age in Havenbrim wore.
Evelyn plopped down on the straw tick and looked up.
“What are you smiling about?”
He coughed. “I, uh—” After drawing in a breath, he began again. “Are you hungry or thirsty? I could get you one of the extra cakes Gelsey set aside for breakfast.”
“No,” she murmured. “Right now, I’m more tired than anything.” She covered her lips and yawned. “I can wait for tomorrow morning.”
Graham knelt down and helped pull the blanket over her.
She stared at him wide-eyed and smiled.
“Goodnight, Evelyn,” he said; then, before he lost his courage, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to her cheek.
Chapter 14
Evelyn
Tossing and turning, Evelyn woke up.
Her back and arms itched, and she couldn’t escape the sweet, earthy scent of straw. She lowered a blanket from her face and bolted into an upright sitting position.
Lanterns twinkled, their light shining through from the next room. She could see her globe—Graham’s globe—through the archway, sitting on the table.
She looked down, taking in the straw tick and blanket Machin had offered her the night before. “Havenbrim is real,” she whispered.
She pressed a hand to her cheek.
Graham kissed me last night.
Evelyn crawled out of the bedding and stretched out her arms. Attracted to the cozy orange glow, she stepped toward the furnace and uncurled her hands to absorb its warmth.
Next to the furnace was a bucket, filled with dark stones. A pair of tongs hung from the bucket. She turned her head to where several glass globes sat on a shelf. Everything was exactly as Graham had described it to her.
She caught her breath as the hatch door, built into the floor, creaked open. A neatly pinned head of blonde hair, highlighted with a blue glow, poked up through the opening. Evelyn caught a whiff of sulfur before a woman fully emerged and snuffed out a mechanical torch.
“Gelsey!”
“Evelyn, is that you? Oh, dear—I wouldn’t get too close to that furnace. We wouldn’t want Machin to catch you. It will only worry him.”
“Oh, sorry,” said Evelyn.
She lowered her eyes, slid one foot to the side, and stepped away slowly. She looked up to find Gelsey inspecting her, from her bedhead hair down to the socks on her feet.
“If I’d been less skeptical about Machin saying you’d be staying the night, I would have left you a change of clothes. I didn’t think you’d sleep in your day clothes all night.” Gelsey crinkled an eyebrow. “Those are your day clothes, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” Evelyn suppressed a laugh, understanding how strange she must look in a T-shirt and jeans to people she knew wore dresses and tunics, the style of which appeared to be centuries old. “I was so tired and happy to be sleeping in a real bed—” Sort of. “I honestly didn’t think much about it.”
Gelsey nodded. “If you’re interested in a hot bath before breakfast, I could give you a change of clothing—I’m happy to give you one of my dresses to wear.”
The back of Evelyn’s neck prickled. The clothing seemed an odd offer. But a bath would be nice.
“Yes, thank you, Gelsey,” she said, not wanting to offend someone who’d cared for her while she was still inside the lantern.
Gelsey’s face shone pink with joy. She grabbed Evelyn by both hands.
“Let’s get started right away.” She continued to ramble aloud as she led Evelyn through the kitchen and into a side room, not much larger than a closet, and began to heat water for a bath.
“This will be a fine surprise for when Graham arrives for breakfast! Machin will be pleased, as well, though he won’t show it. We’ll be lucky if he remembers to eat breakfast at all.”
She lit a second fire and placed the kettle on a hook over its flame.
“While you’re washing in here, I’ll slice cakes and fruit at the table. Don’t worry about the water for the tea. I’ll handle that when I return with your dress.”
Evelyn’s chest tightened. Carla hadn’t been anywhere near as excited about Evelyn staying with her as Gelsey was. She wondered if it had anything to do with whether the stay was permanent. Carla cooked for them, gave them beds, and a place to stay, but it seemed to be out of obligation. All of it routine. Whereas, with Gelsey, it was more of a celebration.
If it wasn’t for the chance to see Joyce and her brothers again, she felt she might want to stay in Havenbrim. Almost—
“Thank you,” she murmured, more than once.
After sprinkling a handful of herbs in the wooden tub filled with hot water, Gelsey tossed her a sponge and left the room.
Evelyn settled into the tub. She relaxed her neck muscles and stared at the hole in the roof where the smoke from the fire climbed through. The walls around her held shelves and cupboards. She’d never been in a bathroom that doubled as a pantry before. She remembered Graham telling her about Machin’s system for piping air from the furnace to heat the underground rooms. She wondered whether he’d managed a way to pipe in water, too.
But Gelsey heated the water she’d poured from large baskets, she thought, looking around. Life in Havenbrim seems cheerful, but I bet it’s more difficult than it looks.
Evelyn wrapped herself with a drying cloth in front of the fire. She could hear the clatter of plates outside the door. Then, a knock.
“Is the water for the tea ready?” chimed Gelsey.
“Yes,” said Evelyn, watching the water in the kettle bubble. “You can come in.”
Smiling, Gelsey entered the room, holding a brown frock with lacing in the front and puffy tan sleeves. She placed the dress in Evelyn’s arms along with a bundle of other cuts of cloth Evelyn wasn’t sure what to do with. One looked like it could have been tied around her head like a bandana.
“We’ll be ready soon, dear,” said Gelsey, twirling back through the door with the kettle.
“Thanks again,” said Evelyn, managing a smile. “I’ll try to hurry.”
Evelyn sat at the kitchen table and smoothed down the skirt of her dress, feeling every bit as awkward as a monkey in a banana costume.
She’d dried her hair as best she could, and let it fall freely across her shoulders. Beneath the dress, she wore what felt like a slip and a long pair of shorts, having l
eft several of the items Gelsey had given her near the tub.
She sniffed the warm, nutty liquid Gelsey had set before her. Then, she took a sip. The flavor was as nutty as it smelled with an earthy sweetness. Gelsey had called it barley tea; but it was thicker than tea, and thinner than oatmeal or what she’d thought of as porridge.
“Take some of the cake, dear.” Gelsey gave her an encouraging nod.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Graham?”
Lifting a hand to shield her lips from the doorway, Gelsey whispered, “That boy sleeps in late most days, and when he’s awake he eats like a horse. You’d better get a head start while you can.”
Smiling, Evelyn broke off a piece of fig cake and took a bite. It was sweeter than the barley tea, but not too sweet. She doubted she’d get the sugar rush of cakes dripping with frosting that she’d been used to. She smiled. “This is delicious.”
Gelsey beamed. “It’s a recipe I learned from my grandmother when I was a child. Simple, but I haven’t met a person yet who doesn’t like it.”
Evelyn added slices of fruit to her plate before taking another bite.
Footsteps neared the kitchen, softly at first, then with a rapid knocking.
“Evelyn?”
She swallowed. Graham stood, his hands gripping the sides of the arched doorway that framed his figure. Lantern light shone through his rust-colored hair.
“Good morning, Graham.”
“I thought you might’a left,” he said, twisting his chin in the direction where Evelyn had slept that night. He exhaled. “Machin’s been mumblin’ at the furnace—somethin’ about life returnin’ to light. But I didn’t think you’d go without saying goodbye.”
Evelyn blinked.
He tilted his head to the side, and grinned. “What’s that you’re wearin’?”
“It’s one of Gelsey’s dresses,” she said, blushing.
“And she looks lovely in it,” said Gelsey. “Now, calm down and eat your breakfast.”
Graham’s eyes bugged out. “I didn’t mean—”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant. Evelyn’s our guest, and we’re going to make her feel welcome.”
Evelyn bit her lip, suffering slightly from Graham’s pained look. Then it was her turn for her eyes to bug out. Slices of fruit and chunks of gingerbread disappeared from his plate faster than Gelsey could refill it for him. He emptied his cup of barley tea in one gulp.
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