She unwrapped the parcel with care, and carried it out to the front of the shop, placing it on the counter as a display. “You have caused quite an uproar in my usually orderly life,” she said to the box, then laughed at her own silliness. “Talking to inanimate objects will end you up in the home for the mentally unstable, Danni Goodfellow.”
Humming softly to herself, Danni climbed the stairs back up to her apartment. The day had been eventful to say the least. Customers had seemed to flock into the shop. She’d sold several refurbished items and had even been commissioned to create a one of a kind time piece for Mr. Cooper and his darling wife, Eleanor, using a large mantel clock that had been left to them by her late grandmother, The Duchess of Alderon.
All throughout the day, she’d had to show off the music box. Just as she’d hoped, the customers had found its intricate design and beautiful music intriguing. However, with each turn of the brass key, she had felt the same ominous feeling, and it had brought back recollections of her dream. Still, her patrons had enjoyed the demonstration, and that was all that really mattered. Happy customers meant money, and money meant that she could remain an independent woman.
After a light supper, Danni lit the lantern in her bedroom, and climbed beneath the covers with a new penny dreadful. Impatient to dive into the world of her book, she settled in quickly. The first page introduced her to a faraway land filled with strange creatures, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate. Instead, she found herself humming the now familiar tune.
She couldn’t seem to get the song out of her head. Haunting little melody that it was, it refused to be vanquished. Giving up on the novel, Danni tossed it on the small table beside her bed and closed her eyes, hoping for better dreams.
Unfortunately, her hopes were futile.
She woke to find herself in the middle of the clearing once more, only a foot or so from the tree. The music blared, each tinkling note causing her to want to cover her ears with her hands. The large gap in the tree remained, and she knew something was watching her from within. Nothing moved inside, but an eerie feeling crept up her spine. She could feel eyes following her, staring at her.
Danni tried to back away, but her feet wouldn’t budge. Rooted to the spot, her breath quickened and her heartbeat ratcheted up, causing the organ to pound until it hurt. Trapped. Trapped. Trapped. The word played in sync with the music bombarding her mind.
She had no gun, no defense.
“Only a dream. Only a dream. Wake up. Wake up, Danni. Wake up!” she screamed while slapping her cheek. Despite the stinging pain, she remained in the clearing, beneath the moon, staring at the tree, and drowning in the song.
Something shifted inside the hole, a flash of yellow shined in the dark. A soft sound, as if the thing inside had whimpered, was nearly drowned out by the music. Danni gasped, her hands moving up to cover her mouth as she fought to hold back the scream building inside her.
Be quiet, stay still, and don’t make any noise. Maybe it won’t notice you. Maybe it won’t come out.
The night air swirled around Danni’s body and chill bumps covered her skin. The music rose in its crescendo, and a terrible childlike laugh rode the waves of the melody. Inhuman and haunting. Something in the tone, the cadence, told her that whatever hid inside the oak, it was not of her world.
“Leave me be, demon, specter, creature of the unknown. Release me, devil, I have no dealings with evils such as you.”
The laugh came again, higher and filled with glee.
Danni stood, still unable to move as the terror screamed through her mind and the adrenaline pumped through her body. Every instinct insisted she run, but the paralysis held her. She watched as cold, white fingers appeared out of the dark to grip the edge of the opening—first one hand and then the other.
A face appeared in the dark, rising slowly upward as if rising from the very pits of hell. A shock of blonde hair, alabaster skin, and big, blue eyes trimmed in dark lashes filled the darkened space. The thing rose up more, and its slightly upturned, pixie nose and wide smiling mouth came into view. Rows of jagged white teeth, pearly in the moonlight, gleamed out at her, forming a dimple in the thing’s plump cheek.
For all the world, the demon appeared to be a child, but its evil was undeniable.
Each breath felt as if she were forcing her lungs might. Her chest vibrated with the pounding of her heart, and sweat covered her skin. The smell of fear rose up to fill the air with a pungent scent. Her thoughts ran rapid, making her head pound. Fear. Every part and parcel of her was filled with pure, gut-wrenching terror.
With slow, almost mechanical movements, the thing continued to climb out of its hiding place. Each turn of the head and stretch of limb seeming to take some calculated effort.
“Unnatural,” she whispered just as the thing swung its legs outward and sat on the edge of the opening. Though its actions were similar, Danni knew she was not seeing a mortech. No, there were no gears, cogs, or steam under imitation skin. The thing before her was real, flesh and bone. From its long blonde hair down to the points of its polished boots, the childlike monster was real.
“Please, please,” she begged as she tried once more to break free of the invisible force pinning her in place. “Please don’t hurt me. I’ve done nothing. I’m sorry. Is it the music box? Does it disturb you? I’ll give it back, just please let me go.”
The creature did not speak. Instead, it cocked its head, the motion seeming so wrong. Even the degree it could tilt its neck was abnormal.
Do what you always do, she told herself, fix it. Refusing to give up and die, Danni tried another tactic as her eyes focused hard on the thing’s sharp teeth. “Do you need help? Are you trapped here? I can help you. I can!”
As if triggered by something in her voice, the demonic child leapt, landing softly in the grass only an arm’s length. Eyes narrowed, teeth bared in a feral growl, and face twisted, it crouched as if it were an animal preparing for attack. The final notes of the song slowed, becoming separate tings of the comb’s metal teeth against the cylinder, the sound of the creature’s hiss filled the emptiness between each note.
The brass key turning signaled the beginning of the song, each sharp click causing the creature to jerk its chin as if connected by a string. The whir of the cylinder followed, and when the first note struck, the creature leapt. The impact knocked her backward, freeing Danni of the paralysis as she hit the wet grass.
The force of the blow compelled the air from her lungs at the same time the creature’s weight crushed her. Clawed hands, small but powerful, circled her throat. She couldn’t breathe in, she couldn’t breathe out, and her lungs burned as if filled with hot embers. The tears in her eyes caused the creature’s face above her to melt it into a watery mask.
The world grew dark around the edges, her mind filled with racing panic and the haunting melody, and darkness threatened to close in. Finally, the invisible vice squeezing her lungs released, and she drew in a ragged breath. Just as her vision cleared, and she was able to blink away the tears, the creature struck.
Its mouth opening impossibly wide, it lunged toward Danni’s face, sharp teeth ready.
Danni shot up from the bed, swinging her arms and screaming as if the hounds of hell were shredding her to bits. It took a moment for her to realize that she stood on a solid floor, not cold grass, and the sound of the music was gone, replaced by her ragged breathing. Being in her flat above her workshop should have been a comfort. Instead, the pitch-black night whispered of things that might be lurking unseen, and the silence in the building made her think of death.
Body violently shaking, cheeks wet with tears, and knees weak, she made a full turn in the center of the floor. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, and the outline of the bed helped her find her way. It took three matches before Danni managed to light the oil lamp, but when the light flared to life, its warmth brought no comfort.
Her throat burned, raw from her screams and sobs, and she could almost feel the demons ha
nds still wrapped tightly around the flesh. She lifted the silver back mirror from the nightstand, the vivid attack still in her mind. “Just a dream,” she whispered as she turned her gaze to the glass.
Angry red whelps, already starting to turn purple, lined her throat in the perfect imprint of small fingers. “No, no!” she screamed as the mirror slipped from her hands and clattered onto the floor, breaking the glass.
Her hand flew to her chest, as if she could somehow guard herself from the horror wracking her mind and body. As soon as the flat of her palm pressed over her pounding heart, she flinched and another wail of despair echoed out through the room. Shutting her eyes tight against the warring panic and disbelief, she probed the stinging skin with her fingertips.
“No. It was a dream. Only a dream. Not real. Not possible,” she mumbled as she slowly undid the pearl buttons at the front of her nightgown. Holding the fabric apart, she looked down to see a large bruise developing across her chest.
Miserable and frightened, she turned the knob on the side of the brass lamp, pushing the wick up further into the glass globe to better illuminate the room. Still, no amount of light could drive away the shadows the dream had left in her mind or the darkening marks marring her skin.
Danni lay in bed, covers pulled up to her chin, eyes wide, and mind racing until the sun crept up the horizon, bringing a grayish light into her room. She didn’t sleep because she didn’t dare risk reliving the nightmare. She couldn’t risk not waking up in time to save herself from the horrid creature. When the light finally brightened enough to chase all the shadows from the corners, she left her bed, hung a sign on the shop door to say it would be closed, and carefully chose her wardrobe.
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this. As Father always said, God rest his soul, there are only two things you can do with fear: conquer it or kill it.”
Danni stood in front of the mirror, checking to make sure that the powder had covered the dark circles under her eyes and the high lace collar covered the marks on her neck. Though she still looked sickly, she was pleased that she’d done well to hide most of her injuries. As she patted her blond curls, she began to hum along with the tune inside her head.
With a groan, she shook her head, desperate to make the music stop. Cold chills climbed up her spine, as she cursed the music box. “If I never hear that damnable song again, it will be too soon.”
Choosing a large beaded bag, she made her way down the stairs, her limbs feeling weak and shaky. The melody grew louder with each step, and she became sure it wasn’t just in her head. Yet, to her surprise, the music box stood in silence on the counter where she had left it, lid shut and undisturbed.
Danni took in a deep breath and steeled herself for what must be done. Quick steps carried her forward, and without even glancing at the box, she scooped it up and dropped it into the bag. As she stepped outside to hail a rig, Danni whispered, “You, cursed thing, are going back to the hell from which you came.”
By the time she walked down the ramp from the Airship, Danni was ready to scream. Grind of the key, play of the song, grind of the key, play of the song. Stop! Stop! The thoughts became lyrics over the never-ending tune, until her brain ached and her teeth ground together. The longer she had to endure the torture and the more the dream faded, the more the anger built.
Looking out over Sky Market, she whispered, “Okay, Madame Odessa, you said that you could only be found by those who were searching. Well, I’m searching for you.”
Danni had hunted all day, from the Sky Market to Madame Odessa’s home in Wren City. The woman had eluded her completely, and even her assistant had been supposedly unsure of the madame’s whereabouts. In fact, the strange woman had smiled right into Danni’s face, offering her a cup of tea, and had pretended concern.
Danni had protested, “No! I do not want a cup of tea, nor do I want to sit in your parlor to take respite from the heat. I am not crazy. That witch cursed me, and what I want is to know her whereabouts this moment!”
The woman, not even bothering to look upset, had just continued to smile as she’d said, “You’ll find her when the time is right. Not a moment sooner. I assure you, Widow Goodfellow, Odessa is no witch, nor is has she cursed you. We all have things we must face, perhaps this is yours.”
Danni had never seen someone banished from a house and left standing on the stoop so quickly. Before she’d had time to consider the woman’s words over the infernal playing of the song in her head, she was outside. Open mouthed, angry, and scared nearly to death, she’d returned to her rented rig and slipped inside, telling the driver to circle the park.
She pulled the curtains closed and rode in silence, the cool darkness helping to ease the pain at her temples, despite the unrelenting tune. The gentle rocking of the cab and the steady clip-clap of the horses’ hooves soon lulled her into a heavy-lidded state. Without meaning to, Danni slipped into sleep and fell into another nightmare.
The child-monster stood before the tree, the music box in its hands. Its blue eyes burned with the fires of hell, and its sharp-toothed grin spoke a thousand silent horrors.
“What do you want from me?” Danni screamed from her place only a few steps away, and when the creature did not move or speak, she let her anger boil over. “Damn you! You insufferable beast.”
Without a single thought to her own safety, she lurched forward and snatched the music box from the thing’s hands, smashing it to the ground. The box shattered, and the song went silent, replaced by a soulless wail.
The monster’s eyes grew impossibly wide, and its mouth stretched until it was a gaping hole. The scream that erupted from within the tiny body pierced the air, threatening to rupture Danni’s eardrums as she threw her hands over her ears and ran.
She fled into the darkness of the woods, seeking safety and distance. Her feet carried her through the dense underbrush and over roots and ruts. The hem of her dress snagged on brambles, ripping the fabric, and low branches reached out to scratch her face and arms. Despite the pain in her chest and the dry rasps burning her damaged throat, she moved farther and farther from the clearing—fearing she may never find her way out of the dream.
At last, out of breath and muscles quivering from exertion, she stopped. Leaning back against a tree, Danni heaved air into her lungs and swiped at the tears running down her cheeks. Her eyes scanned the dim forest, lit only by the eerie light of the eternally full moon, as her heart attempted to beat its way past her ribcage.
Subtle movements in the shadows made her breath catch. A glimpse of something white darted through the space to her left, and twigs snapped to her right. Danni pushed off the tree, spinning in a slow circle. Terrified and brave, she clenched her hands at her side and prepared to face the evil.
“Shut up! Shut up! Stop that crying and screaming. I’m sorry! I broke the box. I stopped the music. I’m so sorry. Please, I just wanted it to stop. I can’t take the music anymore. I can’t fix it!” The words she never thought she would utter fell from her mouth. The words she’d never wanted to say, or admit, passed her lips.
“I can’t fix the box. I can’t fix you.” The confessions rolled out as if the dam inside of her had broken, and all the failures of her life poured outward, drowning out the child’s wail. “I couldn’t fix my mother, my father, or Michael. I can’t fix myself. I can’t. . .”
Danni broke, the tears streaming down her face. Her body gave out, the burden of the emotional outpour too much on top of the panic and fear. Crumpling to the wet leaves, she wept and pounded her fist into the ground. Her own cries rose up to blend with the child’s in a symphony of pain.
Out of the darkness, the monster appeared, but something within its face had changed. The bright blue eyes were sharp with hurt rather than hatred, and the sardonic, sharp-toothed grin was gone. Its round cheeks, wet with tears, had turned rosy, seeming more alive. As it approached, the thing’s ceased its jerky, unnatural movements of a killer stalking its prey. Instead, she moved slowly and smoothl
y, as if afraid.
Danni sat up and used her feet to shove herself backward until her back hit the tree. She had no fight left. “Do your worst, demon. I surrender,” she sobbed. Closing her eyes, she waited for the feel of the beast’s claws, the sharpness of its bite. The crunch of the leaves told her it was near, the feel of warm breath told her it was ready, but Danni did not open her eyes.
“Michael, I’m ready to come home to you.” A warm and comforting touch covered the place just above where her heart rabitted in her chest. Danni felt hope for the first time since she’d lost her beloved, and for the briefest moment, the music, the fear, and the monster were forgotten. The endless wail that had filled the air ceased. “Have you come to help me, Michael? My Michael, have you come to hold my hand?”
“You must be at peace,” his familiar voice answered. “Set the child free.”
Danni smiled as her hand slipped up, expecting to feel her husband’s personage. Instead, her fingers met empty air and her eyes opened. The child sat before her, her dainty hands folded in her lap, and her legs crossed at the ankles in front of her.
With a gasp, Danni started to flee, but Michael’s words held her. Tears streaming from her eyes and voice quivering, she rasped, “You are free.”
The child kneeled down at her side, and Danni had to force herself not to strike out. Her body shook in violent tremors and her sobs built up in a hard lump in her throat.
“Thank you,” the child finally spoke after days of torment, and her voice was as sweet and pure as sunshine.
Shocked, Danni turned her face to meet the child’s, and the sadness in those deep blue eyes seemed bottomless. Without thinking, she reached out, fingertips brushing away tears from the girl’s face. In answer to the sudden urge she felt to offer the child comfort, even if it were only for Michael’s sake, she whispered, “Shh. . . You’re free now. You’re free.”
Cogs in Time Volume Three (The Steamworks Series Book 3) Page 4