Innocent Darkness (10 page)
Authors: Suzanne Lazear
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Steampunk
The next day Kevighn strolled along the grounds of the Red Pearl alone hoping to get a glimpse of those two girls again. No laundry hung on the line. He continued walking along the fence, even when it became stone. Near the end he began to feel something surprising, pleasing, and startling all at the same time.
Things just got better and better.
He went to the back corner of the property and the stone gave way to fence again. The power grew so thick he could practically taste it.
Ivy, roses, and honeysuckle covered the bars of the fence. Quickly, he pushed some to one side so he could see in. Ah, a fine faery garden if he ever saw one. Someone had planted all the right things. In the center stood a
bone fide
faery tree ringed with toadstools, gleaming with power. Tiny wood faeries flitted around.
Oh, it wasn’t
just
a faery tree, but an old portal to the Otherworld. Not used in years, it had gone wild. Wild gates could pose a danger. Its very presence offered so much potential.
Hearing movement in the garden, he peered through the foliage. A flash of grey caught his eye. The girl positively shone as she pruned the roses, unaware he watched.
Faery trees drew those with the Spark. Wary mamas warned their girls about such dangers. Even children’s poems held such warnings. Once he’d seen girls with a skipping rope, chanting
mama said I never should, play with pixies in the wood.
With bated breath he continued to watch her as he read her Spark. Piling her arms with flowers, she seemed oblivious to the wood faeries flying around her. One spied him and Kevighn placed a finger on his lips. The mortal turned and he saw it was the girl with the mop of chestnut curls and steel eyes. Putting her nose into the flowers, she breathed deeply and glowed.
He drank in her power, her potential. Oh yes. She’d do nicely.
Now he had to plan his next move.
Stronger Measures
Something was wrong with Charlotte. She’d been quieter than usual and had avoided all attempts at conversation. They stood outside in the summer sun hanging the wash. Noli wondered if her unusual silence had to do with being told if she didn’t make better progress, she’d be sent elsewhere, since stronger measures hadn’t worked.
Charlotte confided that strong measures included a hand-cranked box with brass spoon-like paddles producing something called an
electroshock.
“Why do you continue to fight them?” Noli had asked. “If I don’t, they win. Besides,” Charlotte’s green eyes lost their glimmer. “I don’t want to go home. Beatings, treatments, even electroshock are
nothing
compared to my uncle.”
Charlotte had been right; Noli had adjusted to the hard work and beatings. She missed her mother terribly, the quicker she progressed the quicker she could see her— and V—she missed the fussy old bodger, too.
She missed her books though she’d managed to recover
Nicomachean Ethics
which had been in her valise left in the sitting room that first day, and read in secret. In public, she devoured the inane prattle of
Harpers
and
Godey’s
simply to have something to read.
When they finished hanging the laundry the matron who supervised them appeared. “Cook would like me to gather some thyme,” Noli lied. “May I bring Charlotte with me?”
“Make it brief.” The matron pursed her lips.
Noli inwardly sighed with relief. If she could get Charlotte to the faery garden, they could speak freely. They went off. Charlotte shot her a look when she walked right past the kitchen garden.
“Cook likes the thyme from the other garden better.” She led Charlotte to the back, opened the old wooden door, and walked in.
Charlotte stood in the doorway, awestruck, as she drunk in her surroundings. “I had no idea this was here,” she whispered.
“I don’t think Miss Gregory does, either. There’s another rose garden.” Noli had found that out the hard way. “Will you tell me what’s bothering you? Please?” She picked thyme, relishing the scents of the herbs and flowers in bloom, the sensation of leaves under her fingers.
Squirming, Charlotte bent forward, hiding face in flowers. “They want to send me elsewhere. My uncle asked them to give me one more chance. If not, I’m to return home.”
“Return home? Is that a good thing?” Something seemed off.
“No, it’s not.” Charlotte’s voice broke. “Uncle Nash … hurts me. Down there. He never actually compromised me, so I’m still
marriageable.
But the things he did to me are far worse than being strung up on a bar and beaten with a whip, shocked, and everything else they do here.” Tears pricked her eyes and she shuddered.
Putting down her bundle of thyme, Noli wrapped her arms around Charlotte. He did what? The horrific thought made Noli cringe.
“I can’t win,” she bawled. “I don’t want to go back— either as me or some perfect, marriageable drone. Even an asylum would be better than this. But no. He won’t let me go. Why won’t he let me go?”
Noli stroked Charlotte’s hair, holding her tight. “Why did he send you here?”
“My aunt did,” Charlotte hiccupped. “She discovered what he was doing and blamed it on me—hence the
flirtatious
label.” For a moment she went quiet. “We could run away.”
“Escape?” Noli’s voice hushed as she gathered some flowers to go with her thyme.
“Why not?” Charlotte cocked her head.
“Where would we go?” Noli’s heart skipped a few beats.
Charlotte replied, “Anyplace but here.”
“I suppose we could go to my house. Still, escape?” The word barely passed her lips. “If they caught us … or even suspected we entertained the thought … ”
“The water room and isolation at the least. Just think about it. Do you really want to be a mindless lady? To never fly a hoverboard or read a book again?”
Actually, flying a hoverboard illegally was wrong. But to never read another book? Never learn more about plants and the way things work?
Running away was serious and could have consequences even if they weren’t caught. “Let me think about it, I’m not sure I want to end up in a detention center.”
A look of disappointment crossed Charlotte’s face. “Think fast. I’m not sure how long my chance will last.”
A rustling from near the fence made them look up. Noli’s mouth grew dry with fear and she hoped no one had overheard them.
The movement came, not from the garden’s entrance, but the other side of the fence. Someone had cleared a spot away. A handsome face peered through—a fine-looking man with long, black hair tied back in a tail and piercing yellow eyes. For some reason he reminded her of V. Though poised and polished, he still looked a bit like a ruffian—or at the very least a rake.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to frighten you.” His voice sounded silky and accented. “This is a lovely garden—a faery garden, I should think.”
Noli and Charlotte moved closer together, seeking each other’s safety. “It is, isn’t it,” Noli said softly, unsure if she wanted him to go away or not.
“Do you believe in the Fae, the fair folk?” He arched a dark eyebrow.
“No, I don’t. They’re just pretty stories for children.” She nervously rearranged the flowers in her hands.
An odd smile played on his lips. “You think so?”
Charlotte went pale. “You won’t tell, will you?”
“Tell what to whom?” His smile stretched. “Besides, who’d believe anyone from here?”
After being at Findlay House for two months Noli had seen the stream of men and the occasional woman entering, the painted fancy-women strolling the gardens with men on their arms, heard groups of people laughing eerily late at night.
“It’s a house of ill-repute, isn’t it?” She shouldn’t speak to him; as soon as he appeared she should’ve grabbed Charlotte by the arm and dragged her out of the garden. That’s what a proper lady would do when approached by a man she didn’t know without a chaperone present. Just the fact he approached them meant either he or his intentions were improper. If someone should find out, they’d be punished. They were supposed to ignore the occupants on both sides of them. To talk to a patron would be worse than speaking to one of the painted ladies.
Still, there was something about him.
“More than just that. I’m Kevighn, Kevighn Silver.” Taking off his hat, he bowed. His hypnotic yellow eyes made her want to trust him, though common sense said she shouldn’t.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we should go.” Noli grabbed Charlotte’s arm and pulled her towards the gate. They took their flowers and herbs, fleeing the garden, hearts racing.
“I can’t believe we spoke to him,” Charlotte whispered outside of the walled garden. “But he was handsome.”
“That he was.” Something in him also seemed dangerous.
As long as he didn’t tell.
Noli approached the head of the table, heart growing heavier with every step. Had that man from next door told? Had someone overhead her and Charlotte’s conversation?
“What is this?” Miss Gregory’s face became even more pinched as her thin lips pursed together in disproval. Today she wore all black which made her look spindly. She clutched
Nicomachean Ethics,
displaying it for the whole table to see.
“It’s a book, Miss Gregory.” Noli cast down her eyes, biting her lip. Margaret. It couldn’t have been anyone but. She must have gone through her things and found it. Her beady eyes narrowed in disapproval. “Who is Steven Darrow?”
Of course V’s name was written inside the cover in his neat hand. “He’s my neighbor, he lent me the book.”
“Ah, the neighbor boy. Why on earth would he give you such a thing to read?” Her voice dripped with disbelief.
Noli tried to compose an acceptable answer in her mind. “He’s from a scholarly family. He has no mother. Even his younger sister reads such things.”
Miss Gregory squinted, as if that might help her process Noli’s answer. “He encourages you to have Ideas and do naughty things?”
“Actually he thought taking the car was a bad idea.” Noli’s voice softened as she braced for a blow for contradicting the headmistress.
Her eyes narrowed but her boney hand didn’t fly out. “Yet he didn’t stop you.”
Of course, as a male, in her opinion, he should’ve stopped Noli from doing such things. Ugh, she couldn’t escape this horrid, outdated way of thinking.
“I’m glad you’re away from such influences. It must be because he has no mother, so he doesn’t understand how women should be. But, the real problem isn’t him giving you the book, but it still being in your possession. Not only did I take all your books, save one, but you heard the doctor say reading such things aren’t good for your current state. How did you get this?”
Noli tried not to flinch at Miss Gregory’s tone. “I’d never steal my books back, Miss Gregory.” That would be suicide. Things taken from the girls were kept under lock and key. “It was in my valise. The one I left in the sitting room by accident when I arrived. When I remembered I left it, I took the book out and hid it before I brought you the contents.”
“What? You insolent girl.” She smacked Noli across the face with the book.
Tears of pain pricked her eyes. Parts of the table filled with whispers. Others simply looked on, appalled or smirking. Even the fancies paused their conversations to put a hand to their mouths in horror.
“Since it wasn’t my book, I wanted to make sure it didn’t leave my possession,” Noli whispered, eyes downcast.
“That’s deceitful, Magnolia. Hiding a book and disobeying me like that.” Her tongue clucked in disproval. “You were starting to adjust. You’ll be punished for this. Severely. Deceit and disobedience are not tolerated. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Miss Gregory.”
She handed the book to Noli. “Tear out a page.”
Noli blinked. Tear a page out of a book?
Miss Gregory slapped Noli’s face so hard her teeth rattled. “Did you not hear me?”
“Yes, Miss Gregory.” Biting her lip, she tore the first page out of the book, hand trembling. Hopefully, V would understand.
“Throw it into the fire.” Her beady eyes gleamed with pleasure.
“I will not.” Noli bit her tongue as soon as the words left her lips, but it was too late. Miss Gregory boxed her ears. “Insolent, disobedient girl. Do as you’re told. Now.” Ears ringing, Noli threw the page into the fire, arms shaking, trying to ignore the titters and stares of the girls behind her.
“The next one.” Miss Gregory’s voice cut through the tense silence of the dining room.
When she hesitated, she got another hard smack. One at a time, she tore the pages from V’s book and watched them burn to ashes, tears of defeat streaming down her face.
Miss Gregory dragged her off to the water room by her elbow. Charlotte shot her a sympathetic look.
It will be okay,
she mouthed. Margaret smirked.
In the water room, Miss Gregory strapped Noli down to a table and elevated her feet as they were tied down, her hands at her sides, head placed into something so she couldn’t turn it. A cloth lay over Noli’s mouth and Miss Gregory blindfolded her. Every time she fought or screamed, Miss Gregory smacked her. Fear lay like lead in her belly making her bland dinner threaten to come back up.
Ice-cold water poured over her head. The shock of the water’s frigid temperature made her scream enabling the water to get in to her mouth and nose. It burned. As she sputtered and gasped for breath, more water came down continuously. Her body thrashed at the bonds, trying to get free. Miss Gregory smacked her again.
The cloth became suffocatingly heavy with water. Terror seized her. Suddenly, just as she thought she’d die, the cloth lifted, allowing her to breath. But only for three or four breaths.
Water choked her, drowned her. Each time when she got to the point where she could take no more, Miss Gregory allowed her to breathe for a brief moment, then continued. With the way the school was set up they might be able to hide her death for
years
before her mother realized something was amiss.
Her life flashed before her eyes as she gagged and choked on the water pouring through the cloth. Images of her father, her mother, Jeff, V …
Yes, she was going to die. All because she hid a book. Her mama would never know how much she loved her, how sorry she was. Tears rolled down her face as she waited for death.
The cloth rose again. Air. Sweet air. She gasped for breath. Heart speeding, she waited for Miss Gregory to put back the cloth.
But she didn’t.
“Never be disobedient again, Magnolia,” Miss Gregory warned, every word making Noli tremble in terror. “I guarantee that you won’t like the consequences.”
