Hidden in Sealskin

by Thea van Diepen

  “Lord Watorej has a lot of money, and he likes to spend it,” he said. “It’s a point of personal pride for him that he has more of everything than anyone thinks he needs, even if he doesn’t do anything important with it. And it has to be cleaned constantly. That’s the third time this week the roof’s been washed.”

  “That explains the job opening.”

  “You’re glad you agreed to my plan, aren’t you?”

  “Barely.” Not only would she work for a human, but even humans considered the work meaningless. Adren was certain that hell had a quarter exactly like this and, if she had any say in the matter, people like Lord Watorej would go there after death.

  Nadin rapped on the door with the gold knocker shaped like a ring held in the forepaws of an otter. After a moment, a footman wearing ornate livery opened the door and stood to the side to let a woman greet Adren and Nadin.

  “My Lady Watorej,” said Nadin with a bow, and Adren clumsily copied him. The lady smiled.

  “Hello to you both.” Her gaze didn’t meet theirs, appearing to look both inwards and far away at the same time. When she gestured to let them in, she moved as if half-dreaming and nearly knocked over a lamp before the footman placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Adren had seen people like this in cities, people who tried to escape the world through the use of potions or magic that distracted their attention and emotions. The lady didn’t seem as far gone as some, but Adren knew that, given time, she wouldn’t be able to do even this, being too lost in her own reality. She glanced at Nadin, wondering if he understood the lady’s condition, but he was smiling back.

  “My lady, this is Adren, the replacement for Eneli.” The lady nodded. Adren nodded back.

  “She is more than just a replacement, methinks.”

  Adren’s heart skipped a beat as much at that last word as the rest of the sentence, and she saw Nadin’s Adam’s apple bob. The footman raised an eyebrow at them, but he kept his mouth shut.

  The lady closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, her gaze was sharp and clear. She took in their faces, looking back and forth as if she had only just seen them.

  “I’m sorry, what did I say? My mind is always a little fuzzy in the mornings, and some of the things that come out of my mouth are half-mad. Oh, and are you the replacement Nadin said he was bringing? For… for…”

  “Eneli,” Nadin supplied. Adren nodded, dumbfounded by such an abrupt switch. This was so unlike anything she’d ever seen that she almost reconsidered her original assessment.

  “Eneli. Such a lovely name. Such a sweet girl, too. But I’m glad we were able to find a replacement so fast, thanks to Nadin. My husband would not like to hear that we have fewer servants than before, especially after that robbery from his vault.”

  “Has anyone found the thief?” Nadin asked, more smoothly than Adren had thought him capable. The lady shook her head.

  “I don’t think so, but they should turn up soon. The gossip runs that they are quite distinctive in appearance.” This made Adren want to laugh. Dyeing her hair and skin was such an obvious method of disguise that she could never get used to people who didn't consider it. “Oh, but I am keeping you from your work. I’m sorry. I trust you know your way, Nadin?”

  “Yes, my lady.” They farewelled each other and Nadin led Adren through the house. She paid little attention to where they were going, choosing instead to search as discreetly as possible for potential hiding places for the sealskin. By the time they stopped, she had counted more than two dozen paintings, a handful of tapestries, and more furniture than was decent. In addition were two grand staircases—one of which they went up and then back down as Nadin temporarily lost track of where he was going—under which could be secret doors. Of course, these were only the obvious locations on the first floor of the mansion. From what she could see through the windows, the estate contained a few more buildings any of which could contain, secreted away in some corner, the sealskin and the jewel inside of it. She had also noticed a regal grandfather clock in a room on the second floor. Who knew how a clever person might make use of that? Adren began to despair at the thought of, even with the help of Nadin’s magic, weeks of working for this detestable lord before their nighttime searches uncovered anything useful.

  “I didn’t warn you about the lady,” Nadin said, hand on a doorknob. “She’s only like that for most of the morning, and sometimes a little in the evening. And a bit at night, when she sleepwalks. From what I hear, it used to be worse. When she first came to live here, she really was half-mad and a little violent, too. But she’s a lot better, and has been improving every year.”

  Adren raised an eyebrow. “When she sleepwalks?”

  Nadin’s expression turned sheepish. “If she sleepwalks. It’s not every night.” He blushed.

  “I’m so very glad you thought to mention this detail now,” said Adren flatly. “Will someone go after her when she does?”

  “She might not tonight.”

  “I don’t trust chance.” Though she hated to plan beforehand, Adren found it fruitful to act as if the worst possibility would occur, and then take the opportunity given if it didn’t.

  “No one will come after her. She just wanders around the house, talking to herself. Up until a few years ago, she would tear whole rooms apart, but that was a while ago. If she finds us—” The footman walked past, looking down his nose at the two of them. Once he was out of earshot, Nadin continued, whispering this time. “If she finds us, you'll have to go invisible, and I’ll convince her to leave. She’s come down to the garage before while I was working, so I know how to deal with her.”

  “You had better.”

  Chapter Four

  Adren’s chance to search the mansion didn’t come until late in the day. The housekeeper was a suspicious woman and organized it such that Adren had constant supervision. And then, sometime after the midday meal, she burst into the room that Adren and two others were cleaning—or, more accurately, the room that Adren was cleaning to distract herself from the gossip session the others had stopped to enjoy. She was beginning to wonder if they'd notice if she just stood up and left.

  “You!” The housekeeper pointed at Adren. “I need extra hands.” Adren, glad for the change, went to the door. Just before she closed it, the housekeeper stuck her head in to glare at the two inside with stone-hard eyes. “I’ll deal with you later.” Then she led Adren through the mansion at such a quick pace that Adren had to jog to keep up.

  They raced to the third floor, the housekeeper pushing past anyone who got in the way, then up a ladder and into an attic. Inside, Lady Watorej knelt on the floor, dumping the contents of a wooden box and weeping. Others lay strewn around her, the items they had housed surrounding them in irregular piles.

  “Where is it? I need to cover myself!” She threw one of the now-empty boxes across the room and wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

  “She’s having a remission,” the housekeeper told Adren. “We need to bring her to her room for treatment. Do what I do.”

  The housekeeper approached the lady slowly, her palms displayed. The lady didn’t seem to see either of them. She stood and began to pace, rubbing her arms. A moan escaped her lips, low and sustained, turning into a scream when she stopped in the middle of the attic and clawed at her head.

  “Oh, that I would ever have called you ‘thou!’” she yelled at the window, her voice raw. Adren faltered at that word. Humans never used it; it was part of the dialects magical creatures used with each other. Referring to someone as ‘thou’ meant they were another magical being or, if they were a human, then the speaker considered them someone precious. Nadin had mentioned that the lady used to be half-mad. Had someone made her that way? Fairies might, after one had seduced her. And yet, fairy madness got worse, if it ever changed, and Nadin had assured her that the lady had been improving. Admittedly, Adren had seen little that she would consider improvement upon madness, but she had not known the lady for longer th
an a few hours.

  “My lady, come with me,” the housekeeper said as she inched ever closer.

  The lady waggled her index finger and stumbled back over an upturned box. While she was distracted, the housekeeper caught Adren’s eye and indicated she should come around to the right, which would trap the lady in a corner. Adren obeyed, her thoughts still occupied with the lady’s condition.

  If the lady were dependent on a substance that had caused her episode at the door, she might be taking it to escape the memories of what fairies had done. But then why would she have used dialect when she had greeted Adren?

  “No, no, no! I shall not be tricked again!” The lady fell this time, and the housekeeper took swift advantage of this, grabbing her. She struggled against the housekeeper and nearly escaped, but Adren lent her strength and they calmed the flailing together. As they did, a man’s voice called from the floor below.

  “Klar, you need any help getting her down?”

  “Yes. Wait.” The housekeeper braced herself as she and Adren tried to gently pull the lady towards the ladder. She balked, shaking. Then she froze and turned to Adren.

  “Let not them have me always,” she pleaded, eyes wild. “Let not them own me.”

  “I shall not,” Adren responded quietly, chilled. This bit of dialect would sound merely old-fashioned to the humans, but it was enough for the lady. She relaxed and let Adren and the housekeeper take her to the ladder, climbing down without any fuss. The housekeeper followed, her motions rife with tension, but the lady did not flee. Instead she went calmly with the man, a doctor. The housekeeper stared as they left.

  Saints and all the gods besides, Adren had been stupid.

  “I'd usually get Eneli to help when this happened. You did well.” The housekeeper’s voice pulled Adren’s attention away from the lady and the complication she had just introduced. “How did you manage to calm her down so well?”

  “I don’t know,” Adren replied. The lie burned her tongue, but she dared not say the truth.

  After a pause, the housekeeper cleared her throat. “Well. Back to work, then.”

  Adren left as quickly as she could. Her heart pounded and, try as she did to slow it, she couldn’t focus. Lady Watorej was a magical creature of some kind, held captive. The servants might not know the truth, but the lord certainly did. Who else would the lady resent calling ‘thou’ if not him? He may have even been using the jewel he stole from the potion maker to make the lady docile, blaming her attempts at escape on madness. If the jewel could aid in the healing of true madness, it could have the ability to change the mind in other ways. Manipulating healing magic to cause harm… the idea horrified Adren.

  But at least now she was alone.

  She leaned back against a tapestry of a party of nobles hunting a deer. The animal’s eyes were wide, but the nobles laughed, relaxed in their saddles as they drew their bows. Adren’s fists shook. Her entire body shook, so much so that it took several breaths to still her muscles. What kind of man was this Lord Watorej? She pounded against the tapestry as if she could blot the noble’s pointed boot out of existence. When the unicorn was cured, they would come and rescue the lady, and no one would be able to stand in their way. Gentle as unicorns were, when they fought, even dragons trembled at their rage. Adren would not rest until the deed was done. Saints help her, she would not. Her heart wrapped around the fury, turning it to the fuel of cold determination. She set to work, an ear out for any passersby in case she needed to turn invisible.

  Cautious as Adren was, quick as she was to hide herself, there really were too many people in the mansion. She had just entered the library, which held the clock she had noticed that morning while Nadin had brought her through the mansion, when the footman exited. He raised an eyebrow at Adren and hurried by, muttering.

  “That boy has such poor taste.”

  Adren ducked into the room and laughed silently, only to grow serious as she considered the implications of his sentence. Why Nadin had decided to help still remained a mystery, and the footman wouldn’t have seen anything in Adren’s actions to give rise to his statement. Nadin himself hadn’t displayed that kind of interest in Adren while in her presence, but still. The idea of him having a crush on her made her uncomfortable. If the footman were right, what would Nadin do when he didn’t get what he wanted?

  The clock rang the hour, which caused Adren to jump. It continued its melody, oblivious. In such a large clock, there should be a door of some kind so the mechanism could be tended, but there was none she could yet see. Adren tilted her head. As the clock’s announcement came to a close, she ran her hands up along the sides of its body to check for any seams too small for the eye to notice, but found none. Perhaps the top…

  “Lost?”

  The housekeeper stood in the doorway. Saints. The ringing must have covered her footsteps.

  “Completely.” This was ridiculous. Couldn’t one search a mansion in peace?

  After receiving directions, Adren headed to the third floor instead. She and Nadin would have time to search the clock during the night. Before then, it was clear she needed a place to hide until then. With Lady Watorej’s recent actions, it was more than likely the servants would be keeping a close enough eye on her that she wouldn’t go to the attic again.

  As Adren neared the attic, three laundry workers carrying bedding from saints knew where passed the ladder. One of the two women dropped part of her load and the others stopped to help, giving Adren a chance to turn invisible.

  “These are going to get holes in them, we’ve washed them so much,” complained the woman, taking the dropped blankets from her companions. “Look at this! It’s so thin here.” She showed them the place.

  “Oh, he’ll just buy a new one when it’s worn out,” said the second woman with a shrug.

  “It doesn’t make sense. Why would he wear everything out so quickly only to replace it all again? It’s like he’s trying to destroy what he has.”

  The young man between them handed her the last sheet, nodded, and said, “It doesn’t matter how much money he has. He can’t possibly keep up with all of this. And what will we do if he goes bankrupt?”

  “Another five years of this and we'll know, I'm sure,” observed the first woman. All of her things returned to her arms, they continued on their way. Adren squeezed against the wall as they passed, careful not to disturb what they carried.

  “I think it’s all to impress the lady. She comes here and next thing you know…” The second woman’s sentence was lost as they turned a corner. Adren wasn’t sure what to make of that exchange. While it was possible the lord was under a curse cast by Lady Watorej upon her capture, she had not displayed any overt magic when Adren had seen her wild in the attic. She had only been searching for something ‘to cover herself.’

  Adren’s breath caught in her throat. But no, the sealskin belonged to the potion maker. Lady Watorej must have been trying to find something else. She had to have been.

  The ladder creaked as Adren stepped on it. She paused, the hairs of her neck rising. Although her magic still held, it would not do for someone to investigate the sound. The hall remained empty, so she climbed into the attic and shut the door carefully behind her. Around her stood piles of boxes, some of plain wood, others ornamented with brass or steel. She had planned on searching them until night fell, but the thought of their hinges making untoward noise now gave her pause. Invisibility still in place, she tried the lid of one of the nearer boxes. It squealed before she could open it more than a sliver, setting her teeth on edge. She put an ear to the door. Nothing, thank the saints. Well, then. She let go of her magic, resigned to the fact that she would have to wait.

  She hated waiting.

  The moon had risen by the time Adren found her way to the inner door of the garage. She tapped on it, cursing herself. A whole day in the mansion and she had forgotten to use any of it to locate this place. At least Nadin expected her and could, at the very least, communicate through the do
or when he heard her.

  Someone slid a piece of paper with writing on it under the door, followed by a stubby pencil. Adren groaned and rolled her eyes. He just had to be literate. People in cities and larger towns had the annoying tendency to assume that everyone else could read and write just because they could. She pushed the paper back and kicked the pencil at him with great prejudice. A whispered “hell!” came from the other side of the door, followed by Nadin muttering fiercely.

  “If you’re going to send it back, at least write your answer on it. Then I might forgive you for hitting my shin with the point of that pencil.”

  “I can’t read, idiot,” Adren replied in a loud whisper, wishing it was possible to hiss those words.

  “Adren?”

  “No, I’m your fairy godmother.” Oh. What if he really did have a fairy godmother? Adren unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. Nadin stopped rubbing his shin and entered the mansion, closing and locking the door behind him.

  “Did you find anywhere promising?” he asked. Then his eyes grew very wide as he stared over Adren’s shoulder. She turned around. The footman approached, lamp in hand. The shadows it gave his face made it appear even longer than it was, long and bony. He wrinkled his nose and sniffed.

  “Unless anywhere is outside the mansion, you’ll find your activities most unwelcome.” Nadin made sounds of extreme confusion. The footman raised an eyebrow at him. “I sleep twice at night, young man, and I take a walk around the grounds between those times. How you weren’t aware of this, I have no idea. I’m only glad I decided to come this way tonight and stop these heathen actions before they even started.”

  For a moment, Adren’s fury convinced her that the best way to get out of this situation was to argue with the footman that she and Nadin weren’t lovers. Then she realized he would want to know what they were doing together instead. She sighed.