Secrets in the Mist

by Morgan L. Busse

  Aunt Maude came around the corner, the severe look on her face matching her usual dark and severe clothing. “Theo, what is all this racket—?” She gasped. “Father?” She quickly moved to them. “Father!” Her eyes darted to Theo. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. We were talking.” Theo swallowed. “And then he collapsed.”

  A tear trickled down her lined cheek, then her face turned rigid again. “I’m going to get the doctor. You stay here.”

  Theo took hold of his grandfather’s hand, dismayed at how cold it was. The intense eyes were closed, cold sweat covered pale skin, and his breath came in short, labored spurts.

  He tightened his grip on his grandfather’s hand. “Hold on, Grandfather. Help is coming.”

  Theo paced the hallway outside his grand-father’s room while Aunt Maude ran errands for the doctor. Adora had not yet arrived home and wasn’t due back from her trip to Decadenn for at least another day. Darkness was creeping across the window at the end of the hall when Hannah came upstairs to turn on the hallway gas lamps. She glanced at Theo from beneath her frilly white cap with a grave expression on her face before turning and heading back down the hallway.

  Hannah had served the Winchester family for as long as he could remember, always bustling about the manse, keeping things neat and orderly. Even now she straightened a painting before heading down the stairs, maintaining a semblance of normalcy, despite the deathly mood hanging heavy in the atmosphere.

  Dr. Turner emerged from the room, his black bag in one hand, his hat in another.

  “How is he?” Theo asked, although he was afraid he knew.

  The doctor’s face was solemn. “I’m deeply sorry. It would appear Master Winchester is in heart failure. I gave him a dose of Nizocin to help with the pain, but that is all I can do. Death will come, and it will come slowly over the next couple of days.”

  Theo let out a shaky breath. “I see. Thank you, Dr. Turner.”

  “I left an extra vial of Nizocin on his night table. You can give him a spoonful every couple of hours to help. I wish I could have done more, but once the heart reaches this condition, there is very little that can be done.”

  “I know.” The doctor looked at him, and Theo quickly added, “I’ve read a little about heart failure.”

  Dr. Turner gave him a sad smile. “That doesn’t surprise me. You’ve always been interested in a variety of things. So you have an idea what the next couple days will be like.”

  “Yes.”

  Dr. Turner placed his hat on. “Master Winchester is currently asleep. I’d let him sleep for as long as he is able.”

  “Of course.” Theo bowed. “Arthur will see to your payment and will fly you back down to Belhold.”

  “Thank you, Master Theo.”

  Dr. Turner headed down the hall. Theo watched him for a moment, then turned to the door that led into his grandfather’s room. Heart failure. Even the greatest of alchemists succumbed to the ways of death. Now it was his grandfather’s turn.

  Theo felt numb. His relationship with his grandfather had always been a rocky one. But soon that would be coming to an end. He felt neither sorrow nor relief. He knew he would do what he always did when he couldn’t unravel knotted relationships in his life: he would throw himself into his work.

  The next day Theo poured over his notes and searched the Winchester private library for any books he had yet to read to take his mind off his grandfather’s impending death. But the pages could not hold his attention, and instead he would find himself staring out the window at the cold grey whisps floating past and the rain tapping gently against the glass. Each time he went to visit his grandfather, he would find him sleeping, with his Aunt Maude sitting by the bed, like a stone sentinel. He wondered what his aunt was thinking. Was she grieving, or did she see her father’s passing as another chapter closing in her long and dreary life?

  Theo was finishing up a letter to the university explaining his absence and choice to delay his schooling, when there was a knock at the door to the study. His stomach tightened. He knew why he was being summoned. It was time.

  He folded the letter, securing it with twine, and opened the door to find Arthur waiting. “Master Winchester is asking for you.”

  Theo nodded, then handed him the note. “Could you make sure this is delivered?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  At his grandfather’s door, he gave a gentle knock. It was opened a few moments later by Aunt Maude. Her grey hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and a trace of red rimmed her eyes.

  She greeted Theo tersely. “Father woke up minutes ago and has been asking for you. I will leave you two alone.”

  Theo stepped back to allow his aunt to exit the room, then entered it himself. The room was dark, save for a single gas lamp near the bed. The velvet curtains were drawn back, and his grandfather lay with pillows propped up behind him and a thick blanket over his body. His eyes were closed and, for a moment, Theo wondered if he had fallen back to sleep before the voice spoke.

  “Theo, is that you?”

  “Yes, Grandfather.” Theo closed the door behind him and took a seat in the chair Aunt Maude had occupied for the last day and a half.

  Grandfather slowly opened his eyes and stared up at the canopy above him, drawing in each breath slowly.

  He finally turned glazed eyes on Theo. “Theo.”

  “Yes, I’m here, Grandfather.”

  “Theo.” The old man’s voice was unsteady. “I don’t have much time left. I can feel the last few grains of sand within the hourglass of my life slipping away. I regret it took this long for me to tell you what I’m going to say—” He broke into a fit of coughing.

  Theo reached over for the glass of water on the night table and held it toward his grandfather. His grandfather took a sip, then sunk back down into the pile of pillows.

  Theo placed the glass back and waited.

  “We’re both stubborn. I’ve been too stubborn to tell you. And you’re too stubborn to give up on anything you set your mind to. You’ve always been a curious young man. Asking questions, probing for the truth.” There was a huff. “I never liked that about you. I never liked it because I was afraid someday you might uncover an old family secret.”

  Theo blinked. “Family secret?”

  “Yes. What I’m going to tell you my father told me. And his father before him.” He glanced at Theo. “Maybe at last a Winchester will finally have the courage to do the right thing. You’re father had that courage. If only I had told him…” Another cough, but not as strong.

  Theo waited.

  His grandfather took a breath as his fingers twitched against the white linen sheet. “In order to end the war two hundred years ago, the Alchemy Society decided to create biological gas that would render the forces of Benerath unconscious. The goal was to end the war without bloodshed and name Aeragarde the victor. It was a noble goal that ended tragically. Instead of placing people in a comatose state, the gas ended up killing those who inhaled it, and then the spores used the bodies as hosts.”

  “The Turned.”

  “Yes,” the raspy voice continued. “As we know now, the gas was never really a true gas, but a spore called Bioformin. The society thought they could control it, but it was more lethal than anyone realized. Instead of a reaction to the spores that was supposed to cause those exposed to become comatose, the spores germinated inside the human body, killing those infected. The spore gas expanded at an alarming rate, spreading destruction amongst both countries until nothing remained but valleys full of ruin and a Mist full of walking terrors. No more countries remained. No more Benerath, no more Aeragarde, or any of the lesser countries. Just survivors of the Plague Wars.” His grandfather closed his eyes for a moment.

  Theo watched him with concern. “I know this, Grandfather. You need to rest. Is there something different you want to tell me?”

  The ailing man turned his head and gazed at Theo. “We’ve always possessed the source of a cure.”
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  Theo bolted upright. “What?”

  His grandfather coughed again. When the spasms settled, he gazed unseeingly up at the canopy. “My great-great-great grandfather, Byron Winchester, was the creator of Bioformin. The plan was to use the gas to capture the armies of Benerath. After the soldiers were captured and confined, they would be treated. Instead, the Bioformin spread, and he became a Turned, along with almost everyone else in the city of Voxhollow. However his wife and son, my great-great grandfather, escaped.”

  “How?”

  “They were in the mountains when the plague was released, away from the battle. Shortly after the world fell, the House of Lords was established to govern the remains of humanity now living on the mountaintops and sky islands. As part of the Winchester House, my great-great grandfather Edwin was selected to be part of the House of Lords. He knew his father had left some information regarding the potential for a cure behind, but the Winchester family feared for their status along with the other four Families. So did his son, and his son, and so on.”

  Theo sat back in his chair, stunned. “So all this time, our family could have done something about the Mist?” he asked incredulously.

  “Perhaps,” his grandfather said weakly. “On his deathbed, my own father conferred the knowledge of this cure. I thought maybe I would something about it.” He took a weary breath. “But then I wondered if there was truly a cure or if I would simply be unleashing a mutation, a new plague, after so much time. Years went by. We had money and power. So did the other houses. When they discovered what I knew, they urged caution.” Another coughing spasm. “Why change when we had everything protected and controlled?”

  Theo could almost feel the guilt of his grandfather hanging in the air, while anger and confusion waged war inside his own chest. He was appalled.

  “Your father was different,” his grandfather said at last, breaking stifling silence. “He was like you. He wanted to know the truth. I believe he would have done something if he hadn’t died so young.” His grandfather’s eyes watered. “Obviously his death didn’t teach me anything. At least not until now.”

  He turned his head to Theo. “I know the location of this source. It’s in our family’s old estate in Voxhollow, in basement of our ancestor’s house. It’s been there two hundred years, waiting to be retrieved.” His grandfather’s eyes closed again.

  Two hundred years. Theo felt sick. All those Purges.

  His grandfather was right. He didn’t understand any of this. From the moment he could lift a beaker and light a burner, he had sought answers with his father, then alone, to find any hope in overcoming the deadly Mist.

  His grandfather coughed again, each intake of breath rattling his whole body.

  Theo hesitated, then reached over and took his grandfather’s bony hand. That seemed to calm the older man down. But inside, he raged at his grandfather, at his predecessors, at the other Houses that enforced hiding the potential cure.

  “You are angry, aren’t you, Theo?”

  “Yes.” There was no hesitation.

  “Then don’t be like me,” the old man urged with a whisper. “Don’t wait until you’re where I’m at now, on death’s door. When I go, you will be head of the Winchester family. Use our name and resources to make things right. Redeem us, Theo, before it’s too late.”

  An enormous weight settled across Theo, his mind a torrent of thoughts and emotions. He stared blankly at his grandfather. Even though he now knew where to search for the cure, it wasn’t as if he could just take a zipper down to Belhold and instantly get information.

  To start with, he didn’t even know where Voxhollow was. The world had changed since the Mist appeared. He would need to find maps of the world before the spores existed. Then there was transportation. Finding someone who could go down to the surface. He would have to hire a diver.

  I have no idea where to start looking for all of this.

  There was a soft knock at the door. Theo let go of his grandfather’s hand. Had the air grown colder, or was it just him? He crossed the room and found Adora standing in the hallway.

  She peeked cautiously over his shoulder, then back at him. “Is he . . . is he . . . gone?” she whispered.

  “No. Not yet.”

  Her face crinkled. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get here in time.”

  It was then Theo noted Adora was still in her travel garb, her cloak still over her shoulders and her hair still stuffed under a simple black hat.

  “Adora?” a weakened voice said from the bed.

  Adora squeezed by Theo. “I’m here, Grandfather.”

  Theo watched Adora take a seat in the chair he had vacated. He knew his grandfather would not reveal to her what he’d told Theo. It was son to son to son . . .

  It was his secret to carry now. But unlike his ancestors, he was going to act. It was like his whole life had been leading to this moment, from his father’s careful instruction and direction, to his scientific pursuits, to now knowing there was a way to possibly disperse the Mist permanently.

  He just had to get to Voxhollow.

  Death came the next morning. The curtains were drawn and mirrors were covered. The clock in the hallway was paused at the hour of death just as the undertaker arrived. In times past, his grandfather would have been buried in a family mausoleum, but land was a luxury that not even the richest could afford. Instead his body would be burned at the crematorium and ashes scattered from a sky island over the Mist.

  And once that was done, Theo would start his journey to find Voxhollow and the ancient Winchester estate.

  Theo stood beside Aunt Maude and Adora as his grandfather was carried out of the manse feet first and placed in a zipper specially equipped for the transportation of the dead. Both women were dressed in black from head to boot, including black veils that covered their faces. Theo wore his best black suit and top hat. It was an overcast day, spreading fog over their tiny sky island home with a cold, misty breeze.

  Aunt Maude sniffled, and Adora wiped her eyes with a black handkerchief. Others would meet them tomorrow at the place called Grave Island, a desolate sky island made of rock and coarse grass that had settled in the sky just beyond the Belhold border. A fitting place to spread the ashes of the dead.

  Theo watched as his grandfather was placed inside the black zipper. There were no tears, no sundering of his soul. Instead, he stood stoically next to his aunt and sister with his hands folded in front of him. Maybe he would feel something later, but the last words of his grandfather still burned inside his heart, a fire that kept any grief at bay.

  The rest of the day was spent at the manse, sending notes of his grandfather’s passing to the Five Families and the Alchemy Society. That afternoon visitors started to arrive to share their condolences. Theo stood stiffly beside his sister and aunt inside the drawing room—the same room where just days before he had gotten into the altercation with his grandfather—and greeted those who came, including the powerful families that lived in Belhold.

  Salomon Staggs came, his chestnut hair and mustache perfectly groomed. He was dressed in the latest Belhold fashion. He clapped a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about the passing of Crispin Winchester. Your grandfather was a tower amongst men, and his advances in science will be remembered. I hope you will continue his legacy.”

  Theo stared back into Salomon’s brown eyes. Did he know about the Winchester secret? Of course he did. Grandfather said all the great Families knew. “I will,” Theo said shortly. Little did the head of the Staggs family know that the legacy he would uphold was the one his grandfather had handed to him last night.

  Salomon moved on to talk to Aunt Maude, and his son William took his place. He was the spitting image of his father, with curly chestnut hair and boyishly handsome looks. He appeared somber, but Theo could see a hint of boredom in his eyes, until his gaze darted toward Adora.

  “Thank you for coming, William.”

  William glanced briefly at him. “Of course, Theodore.
Sorry about your grandfather.”

  Then he bypassed his father and stood in front of Adora. Theo couldn’t hear their exchange, but his blood boiled when William took his sister’s hand and kissed her knuckles. At least she had the good sense to pull her hand back without a hint of the usual blush that graced other ladies’ faces at William’s seductions.

  Theo hid his smile. His sister might enjoy fashion and parties, but she also had a keen mind and little patience for men like William.

  The brief distraction disappeared into gloom as the Staggs family moved on and another family took their place. By evening, Theo felt a strong need to wash his hands and disappear into his room or lab. He still felt numb over his grandfather’s death but could see the grief swallowing his aunt and sister, despite the silent tears they tried to hide all afternoon.

  At dinner the three Winchesters sat around the table in silence, barely touching the soup sitting before them. Another storm crashed down, slamming the windows with heavy rain and wind.

  “May I be excused?” Adora finally spoke, glancing at Aunt Maude, then Theo, as if not sure whom she should be addressing. It hit Theo: he was now master of the house.

  “Yes, of course, Adora,” Theo told her as he placed his linen napkin down. “In fact, I’m finished as well.”

  Adora gave Aunt Maude a kiss on the cheek, then left.

  “Good night, Aunt Maude,” Theo said as he came around the table.

  “Good night,” came the gruff response.

  He wasn’t an affectionate sort of man, but he placed a light hand on her shoulder, then he, too, left the room. Surely Aunt Maude knew he would take care of her. That’s what families did, although he’d heard stories of spinster aunts and sisters being thrust into the background of family and society, left to live alone.

  Theo went down to the basement where his family’s lab was located. The gas lamps lit with a soft whoosh as Theo flipped the switch beside the stairs. He stood at the foot of the steps for a moment.

  The lab had been built by his great grandfather, a place where the Winchesters could work on private projects. The room itself took up the entire floor, with tables covered in instruments, beakers, and burners. Books lined the bookcases set along the stone wall. Everything inside the room reminded him of his father and grandfather. There was even a beaker filled with clear liquid and notes beside it where his grandfather had been testing some chemical before his death.