by Eliza Tilton
“It’s the right thing to do.” He placed the teacup on the cart.
“At least one of you is sensible,” Edgard grumbled.
I didn’t know why Leo wanted me to tell the truth, especially when he would need to explain his part—I still didn’t quite understand how he’d found me.
Better if I show them.
I walked to the fireplace. A chill ran up my spine as I placed my hand on the wooden mantle and pushed the knob in. The fireplace creaked and groaned as it slid to the right, revealing the hidden passageway.
Mother gasped and a teacup crashed to the floor before the entire room erupted into chaos.
Chapter 5
Leo
Arabella’s brother had his pistol out and pointed at the passageway, moving faster than his momma could scream. Telling them may have been gentler than showing them. The dark hole even gave me a chill in my bones.
“How long has this been here? We can’t live in this house!” Arabella’s momma screamed up a storm. The poor maid chased after her, trying to make sure Mrs. Grace didn’t step on all those broken pieces of china.
Edgard moved forward, aiming a pistol at that empty space where the fireplace should’ve been.
“Don’t.” Arabella stepped in front of the opening. “There’s no lever on the other side. If you go in, it’ll close behind you.”
“How far does it go?” he asked.
“Far, deep.” Arabella hugged herself. “The oil in the lantern ran out. If Leo hadn’t found me . . .”
They turned to me, Edgard more annoyed than thankful. His brow narrowed so tight he must have had a headache.
“How did you find my sister?”
Sweat coated my palms, and my heart beat loud in my ears. Loud enough I almost didn’t speak. “My pa works the mines. I go visit him sometimes. Echoes carry far.”
“It’s by the Lord’s good grace he found Arabella.” Arabella’s mother scooted around her maid. “A miracle.”
I could imagine Shifty’s shadowy smile in my mind, laughing at the Lord’s good grace. I wouldn’t be the one to crash anyone’s spirit. “Yes, ma’am, it was.”
“Why would someone have a one-way exit to the mines?” Edgard grabbed a lantern from the nearby table.
“Edgard, don’t. It’s too dangerous.” Arabella may have been petite, but she held her ground, stubborn like those rams in the hills. Ain’t moving for nothing or nobody.
“I have to make sure it’s safe.”
“Wait for Father.”
“I agree,” Mrs. Grace chimed in. “You must wait for your father. He’ll know what to do.”
“I’m twenty-one, Mother, and no child, and I’m not going alone.” He turned to me with a grin.
“My folks will be wondering where I am.” They wouldn’t, but I couldn’t bring him in those tunnels. Not with Shifty around.
“We’ll bring extra oil, and if we get lost, you can get us out.”
“I’m not so sure. There’s miles of tunnels.”
“This isn’t a discussion.”
For someone only one year older than me, Edgard acted bossy. “All right then.”
Edgard grumbled to the maid about oil and then left the room, followed by Mrs. Grace.
“You shouldn’t be doing this.” Arabella moved closer. A tiny smudge of dirt streaked her left cheek. I had a crazy urge to wipe it.
“I don’t think I have a choice,” I whispered. “Do you remember anything about the way you came?”
“The passage went straight until it opened into an area with three tunnels. That’s where you found me.”
“I came from the left tunnel.”
She nodded.
“Then that’s where we’ll go.”
Orange rays filtered in from the window, highlighting her freckles. I imagined her face on paper, how I would sketch each individual fleck of brown to get them just right. Counting all of them would take hours. Still, I wanted to know every single one.
“Thank you,” she said.
A rose hue filled those pretty cheeks.
“Anyone would’ve done it.”
“Not anyone would’ve found me.”
She had me all torn as I stood on the rug, watching her face twist with sadness. I wanted to ask about the scars. I wanted to feel the jagged skin on my palm and caress the pain away.
But she was a lady. Fine one at that.
And I had nothing to offer.
“What is it?” Arabella interrupted my thoughts.
“Nothing.” I gave a smile, knowing the closest I would ever be to touching those freckles was on paper.
She pursed her lips, and it was the sweetest damn thing I’d ever seen.
“All right, Mother!” Edgard screamed before charging into the parlor. Frowning and turning red, he slumped into an oversized chair. “We’ll wait until Father returns, but only because Mother has worried enough today.”
“Thank you. We must be careful,” Mrs. Grace said, following behind Edgard. “In all things.”
Metal grated, and I turned to the fireplace where Arabella stood.
“We don’t need this open anymore.” She dusted her hands on her dress, turning the white lace black.
“Do you have a washroom I could use?” I asked.
“Of course,” Mrs. Grace said. “Down the hall and to the left.”
I tipped my hat and headed to clean myself up.
Old Garrison had lavish parties out here, but I’d never been to one. He loved throwing around money to show off his success. It was how he got that pretty wife. He started in the mines just like Pa and happened to find a gem worth three times a worker’s annual salary. Garrison said he found the gem on his land, and proving him wrong was hard, though we all had our suspicions.
I grabbed the knob and stepped into the washroom. Gold-striped wallpaper covered the walls, matching the brass handles on the faucet with real running water. An oval mirror sat center on the wall.
“Oh, damn it.” A black smudge stretched across my cheek.
Between the mines and charcoal I used to sketch, big ole smudges were part of my style . . . but I didn’t want to look like some vagabond when talking to Arabella or her folks. I dipped my hands in the water and splashed the dirt off my face.
“Leonardo.”
I nearly bumped my head on the faucet at the sound of Shifty’s voice. He was bound to the mines. How could he be here?
I stared at the drain, my heart thumping bad.
“I can sense you,” he said.
Someone might hear Shifty speak and think him the wind or house moving. Me . . . for me his voice sounded clear and broke into my mind.
“You can’t be here. We ain’t in the mines.” I talked softly, leaning over.
“No, but this house has many entryways into it . . . and I can access them all.”
“No. No.” I pushed away from the sink, panic clawing at my skin and making me dizzy. “You leave Arabella alone. She’s got nothing to do with us.”
“You will perform the spell tonight. You’ll need goat’s blood, bone dust, fur of a bat, and seven candles.”
“How am I supposed to get all that? I just can’t go kill a goat, and you know how hard it is to catch a bat?”
The house groaned as if a storm bent her wood. Arabella screamed, and something crashed on the floor.
“You hurt her and I swear I’ll learn a spell to send you back to hell.” I clenched my fists, wishing I could climb into that drain and knock him.
“Ignore my request and I can’t promise your dear Poppa will be safe.”
With Pa still working the mines, Shifty had the reins. If I didn’t play his game, he would hurt someone. At thirteen, I tested it. Had enough of him and his requests. Lost my uncle in the mines the next day. If I had just listened to Shifty, U
ncle Albert would still be alive. I’d never make that mistake again.
“Leave this house, and I’ll do what you ask.”
“Good boy.”
The fear and panic disappeared, though I had to steady my breath. I should’ve told Pa about Shifty the day he found me in those mines, but I didn’t; now I was paying the price.
“Leo, are you okay?” Arabella’s muffled voice called from the other side of the door.
“Yeah?”
“There was a strange wind in the parlor, knocked a vase right off the mantle.”
“That is strange.” I leaned against the wall, waiting for my heart to slow.
“Father won’t be home for a while. Nan’s going to make supper. Do you want to stay?”
“Thanks for the invite, but I really need to get home before my folks worry.” With a deep breath, I opened the door.
She stumbled forward like she was lying against it.
I caught her. “You okay?”
She nodded and gripped my arm. “Yes, just a bit tired.”
With her hand on my forearm and my hand on her waist, I realized how deep in trouble I’d be if I didn’t keep my distance. Her gentle touch and vulnerable gaze had me smitten, and I’d do anything Shifty said just to keep her safe.
Chapter 6
Arabella
Leo tipped his hat at me as he walked out the door. The wind blew wildly, and he pushed the top of his hat, holding it to his head. I shouldn’t have worried about him walking alone, but today had me unsettled.
Mother was still concerned about having a passageway to the mines connected to the house. Yes, it unnerved me, more than I’d admit to them. If I told Mother that the thought of sleeping here made me want to hide within her arms, she would never let me out of her sight.
Warm hues lit the horizon. The scars on my body itched as if they understood the origin of their birth and wanted to be free of that curse. No matter how many days passed, the setting sun still reminded me of the moment the occultists kidnapped me.
“Come inside, dear.” Mother wrapped a loving arm around my shoulders. “One day it’ll be beautiful again.”
I nodded, my chest tightening. “I know.”
But I didn’t know. I didn’t know if one day I’d wake up and not be terrified of the setting sun. A moment in life to be viewed with joy and all I saw was the halo of that man—a stranger who claimed to need help, and being a naïve girl, I believed him. Shadows constantly crept around the edges of that memory, pulling the scene into a black frame riddled with terror.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the memory away and followed Mother inside. Edgard sat at the dining table, biting into a loaf of bread and dipping it into a milky-brown sauce.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll lie down.” I squeezed Mother’s hand.
She kissed my forehead. “Sleep well. When your father gets home, we’ll deal with what happened today. Tonight, you are safe.”
I’d never be safe, but I didn’t say that aloud. She tried very hard to keep us all positive. Sometimes, I thought she pretended to hide her own sadness and trick her mind into being happy. I loved her for that.
The steps creaked under my feet. I rounded the staircase and went to the end of the hall to my bedroom. Father had let me pick which room I wanted when we moved in. Most girls would have chosen the western one with a magnificent view, but that would mean the sun would be cascading against my window during sunset.
I’d chosen the room in the back of the house, shaded by massive, leaning trees. Sunlight ventured in, but nothing like the other side of the house.
Some people thrive in the light, others drown in it.
My canary, Falsetto, chirped and hopped on his wooden beam when I entered the room. Rufus bumped my side as he wedged himself past me to go sleep on his bed near mine. I walked to Falsetto’s birdcage and opened the tiny, white door. He sang to me, and I whistled back as I checked his water dish and food bowl.
I should have bathed, but my mind and body were both exhausted.
After I took off my dress, I hung it in the wooden wardrobe. When we moved in, Edgard helped me rearrange the room. Now, the bed sat in the far corner with Rufus’s oversized pillow right in front.
Falsetto sang and I left the cage open to let him fly for a while. I yawned and stretched myself out on the fluffy feathered blanket, sinking into the warm and soft pillows until Falsetto’s chirps faded away.
g
Coldness rushed against my skin, waking me. Rubbing my eyes, I glanced around and tried to discern the hour. Rufus snored in his bed, and Falsetto slept in his cage with his head tucked in.
My throat ached from being parched. I slid off the bed and grabbed the large black candelabra from the table near the door. I struck a match and lit it. With my bare feet shuffling on the cold floor, I left my bedroom and headed toward the sprawling staircase.
The floorboards creaked as I walked past the oval window on the right wall which had no light peeking through. The flames in the oil sconces flickered like a wind passed through them. I ignored the trembling darkness and stepped onto the stairs. My throat an inferno, it would take more than an imaginary wind to stop me from getting a cup of water.
Sliding my hand down the cherrywood banister, I passed the oil paintings hanging on the gold-and-ivory wallpaper. There were many to admire. Holding the candlelabra higher, I stopped at my favorite one: a beautiful portrait of Mrs. Garrison surrounded by the most luscious roses I’d ever seen, petals full and bright, lighting the scene around her in a blaze of passion.
Where was this rose garden full of flowers?
A black bonnet covered her hair, which was tied back. I squinted at the background and held the light closer. Though I’d seen this painting multiple times before, I noticed something new—the shadowy structure in the distance.
That’s our house.
I don’t remember seeing a rose garden anywhere.
My mind whirled with curiosity. I rushed the last few steps to the main floor, leaving the mystery behind.
An orange light warmed the sitting room.
Father must be home.
The thought of seeing Father pushed me across the wooden floor and into the sitting room. A breeze swirled around my hair. The fireplace mantle sat off to the side with the entry to the mines wide open.
Black seeped out of the passageway like mist coming to drag me inside. I went rigid with fear, unable to move away from the coldness coating the room. The hairs on my skin stood at attention.
Why is this open?
Who opened it?
“Arabella?”
My father’s sudden appearance made me squeak and jump.
“Is everything all right?” His blue eyes shone with concern, and I ran to him.
“You scared me,” I said, leaning against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry. Your mother told me about the passageway. I opened it and realized I’d need a lantern to see inside.”
“Please don’t go in. Can you close it?”
He kissed the top of my head. “Of course.”
He walked to the fireplace and pushed in the wooden knob. The mantle slid back into its proper place. “I have a few errands to do in town. Would you like to come with me?”
The sun was rising, and I desperately wanted to be outside, away from this house. “I would love that.”
“Go get dressed, and I’ll let your mother know.”
I ran back up the stairs and into my room. Rufus still snored, and Falsetto nestled against his feathers. I rummaged through my wardrobe for a light and easy outfit to throw on. The nicer gowns required a bit of aid to get into. I chose a light cotton dress with a square neckline and a bodice that tied with a string I could do myself.
I slipped into a short pair of lace bloomers. The shorts sat right abov
e my thighs. Normally, Mother made me wear tights with dresses, but based on the clear sky, today would be hot, and tights would make my legs itch.
Once clothed, I tied a matching crepe bonnet with a bit of fringe that hung off to the side to my head. I fixed my hair with a few pins and checked my reflection in the mirror. This dress had puffy, layered lace by the wrists and a white cravat brooch that covered my neckline and only showed the skin on my face and hands. The few parts of my body not marred.
I rubbed a bit of rose tinted salve on my dry lips and wiped the dust out of my eyes. Satisfied with my choice of clothing, I met Father outside. He sat on the wagon bench, reins in hand. His shortly cropped dark hair almost disappeared underneath the wide-brimmed hat he wore.
“Ready to leave?”
“Yes.”
He leaned over to give me a hand climbing in, and then I sat beside him. With a slap of the reins, the horses were off, pulling us onto the road that led to town.
“How are you doing? Your mother said you had quite a fright.”
“I did. I almost wished I had gone to tea.”
“Are you sure that would’ve been safer?”
I laughed. Father’s sense of humor always kept things light. Perhaps he did so to keep himself sane. As one of the Queen’s scribes, he spent hours deciphering codes and languages. Father used to be just an ordinary priest until the church noticed his exceptional gift with languages and recruited him into the Queen’s Guard.
To the rest of the world, the guard protected England and the queen, and they did, but their real purpose was to rid the world of monsters: men who shifted into beasts, blood drinkers who stole away unsuspecting victims at night, and of course occultists—dark magic users who corrupted the world with demons, spells, and devilish ambitions.
“Have you made any progress on the tome?”
His jaw twitched, and the lines by the corner of his eyes crinkled. “The cipher has been difficult. Not one single breakthrough.”
I patted his arm. “You’re the best code breaker in all of England. You’ll decipher it.”