Daughter of the Song

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Daughter of the Song Page 12

by Eliza Tilton


  No.

  The sadness and anger retreated, leaving me numb and empty.

  He won’t have my sister.

  Mr. Barnum called for Francesca. I turned and strode down the stairs.

  “Leo!” my sister called for me, but nothing would stop me.

  There was only one solution to this problem. Killing Mr. Owens wouldn’t take care of my family. We needed money, something Shifty had been promising me for years. It was time to set him free.

  Chapter 21

  Arabella

  The tabby sprawled across my lap, purring. Today, Edgard gave me a break from training. Every one of my muscles was sore, and moving caused me immense discomfort. Even though we had been practicing and testing my song abilities, Edgard believed I should know how to wield a sword or knife.

  I had no training, except in the etiquette of tea drinking and eloquent party behavior. Mother thought it was sweet that Edgard and I were spending time together. Neither she nor Father questioned our comings and goings. As long as big brother was by my side, nothing could go wrong.

  Edgard left me alone for the day—well, the afternoon. He had to run an errand and would return to the gardens after lunch. At first, he refused to leave me by myself, but I argued that if he was forcing me to train, this was my one requirement: a few hours of peace, alone.

  The caretaker worked in the gardens, so I wasn’t completely unchaperoned.

  I flipped the pages of the diary, searching the tiny book for information on this port and on Mrs. Garrison. With Leo’s mother pregnant and his father gone, I didn’t expect Leo to run around with me on a mystery quest, though I did miss him.

  In time.

  That’s how I ignored the ache of him not around. In time, we would meet again, under different circumstances, and the feelings we shared would still be there.

  I scratched behind the tabby’s ear and read the next entry.

  September 3rd, 1863

  Harold is getting worse. Each day, he disappears into those mines, only to return long after sunset, mumbling about answers and healing my sickness.

  He refuses to accept my fate. I believe he’s afraid of being alone.

  My dear husband is afraid.

  The doctors keep trying new herbs and techniques, but the sickness is running its course. Even the Black Magic roses he gifted me haven’t healed me. He spent weeks sailing out to the island where they came from. A special rose that heals.

  The roses are beautiful, possibly my favorite, but they are not magic.

  I glanced over at the deep-crimson roses by the swing. Those must be them. I rubbed the spot on my hand where the thorn had pricked me, the skin pink. One tiny pink speck of a scar. I flipped the page and read more.

  September 7th, 1863

  Harold never came home last night. I had feared the worst and did something I never thought I would. I entered the mines through the entrance in the sitting room. I made sure to bring a full lantern and chalk to trace my passage. I don’t remember how long I walked, but I found him . . . and what I saw broke my heart.

  My husband is a good man. He has always done the best he could.

  In a desperate attempt to save me, he has made a deal with the devil. I ran from the horror I saw in that room, horror I will not write in these pages. He has lost himself to a fear I can’t save him from.

  I’ve sensed a dangerous presence in this house, and now I know it comes from the mines. The miners have dug too deep and unleashed a terror we cannot run from.

  I don’t know what will happen to me, but I know my husband loves me, and I him. I’ve decided to go back into the mines to confront him.

  I will pray for us both and this place, for I fear we are all destined to die.

  The diary slipped from my hands and fell on the ground, scaring the tabby off my lap. Nausea rolled in my stomach, and my heart beat in my ears while my hands trembled.

  She knew. She knew something was wrong.

  My thoughts ran to Leo, and panic forced its way into my heart, grasping it tight until I flew off the swing and ran out of the greenhouse. Leo was in danger. If his mind was in as dark a place as Mr. Garrison’s, and an evil being inhabited the mines . . .

  The port was too far to walk. I needed a horse.

  I opened the gate to the gardens and peeked out. When I was sure no one was near, I dashed to the mill where the caretaker kept his horse corralled. My heart pounded and pounded, almost as if it warned me not to go, but I had to warn Leo.

  Hiding by a tree, I took one last glance around the area before sneaking over to the black mare. The horse neighed but didn’t flee.

  “Hi there.” I spoke in low tones and reached out to the reins. I placed them in one hand and used the other to pull myself into the saddle.

  Once settled, I slapped the reins and galloped her out into the forest.

  Wind slapped my cheeks as we rode. The sun was high in the sky, far from setting. Plenty of time to warn Leo and return before Edgard got back.

  I’ll need to be careful in port that no one sees me.

  A girl my age should not ride alone—a hard lesson I learned back in England. It was a dangerous decision, and one I hoped I wouldn’t regret. Dread fueled my direction. If the mines were full of more danger than crumbling rocks, I had to warn Leo.

  I thought back to the attack from the dead.

  Someone controlled those monsters. It could be the same evil that claimed Mr. Garrison. I wouldn’t let anyone fall to that terrible fate, especially Leo.

  Sweet Leo. Please be okay.

  The horn of a tugboat blared far to the left followed by the sounds of the seagulls. I veered off the main road. I didn’t know where Leo lived. I needed to ask someone, someone who wouldn’t care who I was or why I was alone, side saddled on a horse.

  In a field to the right of the port, a man drove a wagon on the dirt road. I trotted over and put on my best smile. “Good day, sir.”

  He pulled the horse to a stop and tipped his hat to me. “Ma’am.”

  “I’m looking for the boy who works at the post, Leo?”

  “Ahh, yes.” The man took off his hat and held it to his chest. “Shame what happened to his father and the others.” He shook his head, and the wrinkles in his forehead crinkled. “You can check his house, last one on the edge of town. Big old oak right outside.”

  “Thank you,” I said while kicking the horse into a run.

  Please be there. Please. Please be there.

  My bonnet flew off my head, and I glanced back as the sunflower lace disappeared on the wind. I leaned forward and slapped the reins, pushing the horse into a gallop. My mind was a whirlwind of fear and vicious thoughts. If there was a dangerous creature in the mines, not only was Leo in danger, but my whole family.

  The dirt road curved up the hill, and in the distance sat a two-story home with a bushy oak hovering over the structure. A figure walked out the front door, adorned in a brown cloak that billowed around him.

  Is that him?

  I was too far to see clearly. I thought of calling out his name, but an uneasy flutter brushed against my chest. I pulled on the reins, slowing the horse.

  The figure headed in the opposite direction of the port. A black bird followed.

  I led the horse up the hill at a steady pace, waiting to see who this person in the distance was. When they walked to the top of the hill, the hood fell off, revealing dark wavy hair that blew around his face.

  Even from here, I could see it was Leo by the style and the way he brushed his hand through his hair. His skin was pallid as if he hadn’t slept since the day in the mines—and perhaps he hadn’t.

  He turned and vanished down the hill.

  I slapped the reins to trail him, wondering if he saw me or if something else drove his quick steps. It only took minutes to reach the spot where he stood.
I looked around the area. To the north was the sea, waves crashing hard against the shoreline, signs of a storm brewing in the distance. East of me were the cliffs.

  Far below, Leo ran toward the cliff face near the water until he disappeared behind the rock. I nudged the horse down the grassy slope and to the ocean. When I reached the cliffs by the shore, only the waves were there to greet me.

  I slid off the horse and stalked across the beach. Around the side of the cliffs, facing the sea, was an opening. There was no other entry, and the boulders on the opposite side were too steep and jagged to climb.

  I picked up my dress, found my nerve, and entered the wide cave. The smart thing to do would have been to call out for Leo, but I was curious why he was in here. Why would he go into a cave? What if it connected to the mines where there were monsters and the memory of his father? Wouldn’t it be too painful?

  With soft steps, I hiked forward, thankful the sunlight reached inside. The wide mouth slowly shrunk, the sunlight fading the deeper I went. A warm light bobbed in the distance, my only guide through the dark. I hurried my steps, following the last light, hoping it was Leo. The cave twisted into a larger opening, and even though I was far behind, the lantern was enough for me to hold my focus.

  I grazed the rocky walls with my hand, trying to be quiet. The salty air from the sea disappeared, and the musky odor in the caves tickled my nose. I covered my face, forcing a sneeze back in.

  Scrape. Scrape.

  Freezing in place, I waited, praying that sound was just an animal.

  Scrape.

  Fear getting the best of me, I decided I didn’t care what Leo was doing. I was running to him. I ran until the cave narrowed and ended in an area of the mines. Rail tracks zigzagged in different directions, broken pickaxes scattering the ground. A lantern hung on a hook on the wall next to a door, more light beamed from underneath.

  My body trembled.

  Why did I have to sneak after him? This is silly.

  I leaned against the door, closing my eyes to hear better.

  There was scraping and a clinking noise.

  I grabbed hold of the knob and turned.

  Leo sat at a desk, scribbling on a piece of paper in a circular room, littered with candles, shelves of books, and paper. At the far wall stood his father, chained.

  “Leo?”

  Leo flinched at my voice and turned to me with frightened eyes. He jumped to his feet, knocking over the chair in the process. “Arabella?”

  I peered around him at his father. “He’s alive?”

  “You can’t be here.” Leo held my arms and blocked my view of his father.

  His father groaned, and the sound raised every hair on my body.

  I moved to the right, and Leo sidestepped me.

  “Don’t,” he pleaded in a whisper.

  “What’s going on here?” I pushed him away.

  His father’s eyes were a sickly white, his skin a pale shade of the previous beautiful olive. I covered my nose with my hand to stop the stench of rot permeating from Leo’s father’s outstretched hands. Thick chains locked the poor man in place. He lunged forward, arms waving wildly, and his mouth hung open, the jaw dislocated.

  I stepped out of reach, my thoughts a jumble of questions.

  “What is this?” My throat burned from the acrid smell in the room.

  Sketches covered everything. Above the desk were various drawings of me: crying, laughing, singing, and in the center a picture of Leo and me dancing. They were both beautiful and haunting, all hastily drawn with harsh strokes.

  Leo hung his head.

  “I saw your father die.” I said, searching his expression for answers.

  Leo stared at the ground, shoulders slumped.

  I pounded on his chest with my fists. “Answer me! What is this place? What’s going on here?”

  “I had no choice,” he croaked, turning his head away from me.

  “What are you talking about?” I pointed to his father, my body shaking. “What’s wrong with him? Is he sick? Why is he down here and chained like a monster?”

  Leo glanced at the walls, the ceiling, everywhere but me.

  I shook my head and went over to his father, who swayed back and forth. “We’ll take him to the doctor. He needs help.”

  “No.” Leo pulled me back. “Stay away from him.”

  “He’s your father!”

  “Not anymore.”

  I wrestled out of Leo’s grip, though he barely tried to stop me. “What are you talking about?”

  Leo raked a hand through his messy hair. “I . . . I thought I could save him, but it didn’t work.”

  My mind tried to decipher the moment and take in everything Leo said to have it make sense, but he spoke madness. I was afraid to ask the next question, but I needed to know the truth. “Is he like them? Those undead that attacked the port?”

  Leo nodded.

  I glanced at his father, and the decay was clearly visible in the tiny patches of flesh missing from his face. How I failed to see it before baffled me. “You did this?”

  Leo stood there with no explanation.

  “How could you?” I was stunned, confused, heartbroken. “Why?”

  He wrapped his arms around his body, hugging his chest, and said in a low voice, “I thought I could save him.”

  If it was my father or Edgard, would I do something different? Would I be able to pass on an opportunity to save them from death? The mere thought of losing either of them sent a stabbing pain through my chest. But, no matter what, I would never try and play God. People died in the port. I almost died.

  “You need to fix this,” I said. “It’s not too late.”

  “It is. I made a deal.”

  I thought about the diary and the desperate writings of a broken wife. “Mrs. Garrison discovered something in the mines. She said she was going back in, but she never came out. She wrote in the diary that something in the mines drove her husband mad. What if that’s happening with you? Come with me. My father and brother can help.”

  “No. I have to finish this.”

  There was a coldness in the way he spoke, an emptiness that soaked into my bones. I couldn’t let him do this, and yet I didn’t have the strength to stop him. What do I do?

  I was angry and confused. “Those creatures killed men.”

  “Thieves and murderers.”

  “That makes it right?” I stomped over to where he stood. He stepped back and back until I had him against a wall. “You are not God. You can’t do this. Do you know what happens to people who practice necromancy?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Those things almost killed me. Or do you not care about that either?” The anger and hurt raced through me in a wave of heat. My entire body shook. “They almost killed Edgard.”

  At that, Leo met my tearful gaze. “I’m sorry. I wanted to protect you, from everything. I never would have let them hurt you.”

  I placed my hands on his chest and stared into his hazel eyes, praying his heart would concede. “Please, Leo. If you continue, we’ll all be in danger.”

  He brushed my cheek with his hand. “I promised you and your family would be safe.”

  “How can any of us be safe when the dead have risen to hunt us?”

  Leo leaned his head back against the wall. “You don’t understand. I’m doing this to keep you safe.”

  “Then explain it to me.”

  Leo kissed my forehead and then strode to the opposite side of the room where over a dozen candles were lit and arranged on the floor. “Remember me as I am. I don’t know what I’m about to become.”

  The statement sent my heart into a furious frenzy. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on? What are you so afraid of?”

  “It’s not safe here.” He took a knife off his belt and slic
ed his finger.

  “Leo!” I brought my hands to my face in horror.

  He squeezed the blood in a circle on the dirt, not once looking at me. The tips of the candles flamed bright orange. “Go back the way you came, take the lantern outside, and hurry. There’s more zombies in the mines. I can only control them for so long.” He brought his gaze to mine. “I swear you’ll be safe.”

  I couldn’t move or breathe or think.

  “Arabella, go.” He winced while he spoke, and all the color drained out of his cheeks until he looked as dead as his father.

  Tears fell from my eyes. I ran past him, sobbing.

  Leo was the necromancer.

  And there was nothing I could do to stop him.

  Chapter 22

  Leo

  Sulfur filled my nose until my eyes burned. I dropped to my knees, blood spilling out of my hand and oozing around my wrist.

  Hold.

  I focused on the word, but the hunger the dead had was a powerful urge, and it took all my damn strength not to release and let them run. With my eyes closed, blurred images of the mines flashed through my head. None of the dead were near her, yet.

  My body shook with cold. I curled into a ball, holding on with all I had. One slip and Arabella would be the one to pay. One of the creatures broke the hold as it picked up Arabella’s scent.

  Hold!

  Something was wrong, though. The creature wasn’t listening, and now, through their red vision, I saw why.

  Blood trickled from Arabella’s hand; she must’ve cut it while running.

  I jumped to my feet and snatched the machete behind the desk. “Shifty!”

  Running out the room, I screamed his name in a desperate plea. I hadn’t seen him since I performed the ritual to set him free. He may not have even been in the mines anymore. I ran through the cavern to where I last saw Arabella.

  A scream broke through the darkness.

 

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