Raquel Byrnes (15 page)

“Mr. Davenport?” I whispered. I squinted at the wingback chair opposite me. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, I saw that it was empty. I threw a log on the fire, and the flames flared up. He wasn’t on the couch, either. The book he’d been reading and his slippers lay on the floor beneath the chair. Where had he gone?

Lightning flickered through the shutters, and another clap of thunder rolled in from outside. The wind had picked up while I was asleep, and I smelled rain in the air. A storm was coming. My hand went to the botany lens at my neck. It was gone. Startled to find it was missing, I shook my blouse, but it wasn’t lost in the material.

I just had it, I mused, remembering how I’d played with it by the fire. Feeling around on the couch and carpet, I came up empty.

“How could I lose it just sitting in the chair?” I shook my head, confused.

Remembering the flashlight in my room, I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and stole through the house and up the stairs. Stopping by Davenport’s room to check on him, I turned the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked.

“Mr. Hale?” I knocked. Would he have locked it out of habit?

Putting my ear to the door, I listened. I didn’t hear anything. Trying the handle once more, I stood in the hall, perplexed. He never locked his door before. I almost knocked again, but he looked so tired before that I hesitated. Was it so important I couldn’t wait until morning?

The howl of wind outside picked up and brought with it a new sound. Somewhere in the house I heard a slam-slam-slam. What was that? Not steady, it sounded like a shutter whipping against the side of the house. I stepped towards the hall, listening. The slamming came from further into the house. I followed it, stopping outside Lavender’s room. Louder here, I poked my head in the door. Her bed was empty, the covers rumpled and pulled back. The shutter slammed over and over again on her window.

“Lavender, where are you?” Stepping into the room, I pulled open the closet and pulled on the light bulb chain. The light flickered in an empty space. She wasn’t there. I turned in a circle in the middle of her floor. “Honey, is the wind scaring you?”

Frigid air blew over me, and my eyes went to the French doors of her terrace. They swung open with a crash, the curtains fluttering inward with rain and leaves. My gaze picked up the hem of a pink nightgown outside.

“Lavender!” I rushed outside and froze.

She clutched onto the outside of the iron railing as if about to jump. Her head turned away from me, hair whipping in the wind two stories above the river rock pavement.

“Mama!” she screamed out at the night, and one of her hands slipped.

I lunged for her, grabbing onto her other hand as she fell away, her little body dangling as she shrieked with the wind.

“Lavender, no!” Teeth clenched, I pulled with all of my strength, trying to keep her from falling. I saw a light behind her, in the woods. Moving along the ground with erratic spurts and stops, it glowed bright orange through the dark. “What in the world—”

“Don’t let Mama go!” Lavender’s gaze locked with mine, and I saw terror on her delicate features. “She’ll fall!”

“Help!” I yelled over my shoulder. “Mrs. Tuttle!”

Gripping her arm with both hands, I strained to get her over the railing.

“My mama!”

“Lavender, please,” I shouted over the banging and the wind. “Help me.”

She blinked as if breaking from a dream. Her other hand coming up, she held onto me. I struggled and brought her over. When her feet hit the floor, she shot past me out her bedroom door.

“Wait,” she cried.

“No, Lavender.” I swiped in her direction but missed. Starting after her, I tripped over a dollhouse and went tumbling to the floor. Scrambling to my feet, I tore out the room and down the hall glancing over the bannister to the foyer below.

Lavender scurried across the floor towards the kitchen.

“Mrs. Tuttle,” I yelled, not sure if the wind and the thunder drowned me out.

On the first floor, I skidded through the kitchen and ran right into O’Shay and Lavender. We toppled over, and the three of us went sprawling under the table in a tangle of legs.

“What are you doing, Ms. Ryan,” O’Shay yelled and pushed me off.

“Let me go!” Lavender tried to pull out of his arms, but I caught her and held her to my chest as she cried with great heaving sobs. “Please!”

“She’s inconsolable.” O’Shay shook his head. “Thinks her mama is out there in the woods. Look at her. She’s drenched to the bone. Was she outside?”

“I saw my mama,” Lavender cried, her lips blue and trembling with cold.

“What if I go?” I said over her whimpers. “If I go and see what’s out there, will you stay in here with Mr. O’Shay?”

“What?” He looked at me as if his eyes might pop out of his head. “You can’t go out in the storm—”

“Yes,” Lavender cut in. “Yes, I promise.”

“Then I’ll go,” I said and got up with her.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and looked up. The tension fell from her face, and she looked at me with hope. “You will?”

I nodded and put my hand out, helping O’Shay. He seemed to be having trouble forming words.

“S-surely, Ms. Ryan, you aren’t going out there?” He licked his lips, nervous. “It’s a bad storm brewing.”

“
I
saw something out there, too.” I looked past him to the dark and nodded. “I’m going to check it out.”

“Don’t let the child’s fantasies persuade you,” O’Shay said and stepped between me and the door. “’Twas a dream only.”

“No it wasn’t!” Lavender shouted. She looked at me, her face determined. “I wasn’t asleep.”

“Well, neither was I, sweetie,” I said and walked around O’Shay. “There was a light.”

“Lightning, then,” O’Shay said.

“A ball of lightning floating parallel to the ground, Mr. O’Shay?” I pulled a raincoat from the hook near the door, put it on, and grabbed a flashlight from the shelf. “You’ll see that she goes to her room?”

“I want to stay here,” Lavender said, but I shook my head.

“The library then, by the fire,” I said. “Wait for me there.”

Nodding, her lip quivered.

I looked at O’Shay. His lips pursed, his gaze slid from mine.

I wondered if he was really concerned for me.

I pushed through the door, and the wind hit me like a frigid force. I ran the path to Simon’s workshop and banged on the door. He opened it, his hair disheveled and clothes rumpled.

“What’s the matter? Lala?” He pulled me into the workshop.

“No, she’s inside with O’Shay, but she…I mean
we
, saw something out there.”

“What do you mean ‘saw something’?” He looked back out the door.

“I don’t know.” I flapped my arms, frustrated. “She was hanging off her terrace—”

“What?” Simon pushed past me, striding to the house.

I rushed to catch up with him, the wind flapping the coat around my legs. I pulled on his shirt, stopping him.

“I’m going to check it out.”

“No, you’re not.” He reached for my arm. “Not out in this.”

“I’m not asking, Simon.” I pulled from his grasp. “I promised Lavender. She’s scared.
I’m
scared. Something is making noises in the house. Something is going on!”

A gust of wind buffeted us, bringing wet drops with it. I shivered.

“You’re scared so you’re going out in the dark?” He looked at me, shocked. “No.”

“I’ll be right back,” I said and started off.

“Rosetta, wait.”

Turning, I held my hand up to shield my face. He ran into the cottage and came back out pulling on a coat. Flicking on a flashlight, he walked up to face me. I saw him slip a gun in the waist of his pants.

“You’re not going out there alone.” He grabbed my hand, and we walked together into the woods.

Stumbling on the matted ground, I nearly went down, but Simon caught me. The wind howled in the night, the low whirl whipping through my hair as we went.

“What did you see?” Simon asked.

“It was a light.” I explained what I’d witnessed.

He nodded, our flashlight beams intersecting and separating on the soggy earth. “And you’re sure it was this way?”

“I saw it from her terrace, straight out across the grounds.”

“What was she doing?” Simon asked, his voice angry. “She’s getting worse.”

“She thinks it’s her mother. She was terrified her mother would fall again,” I said.

His grip on my hand tensed. “She what?”

“She has dreams that Amanna is falling, Simon. She’s tortured by it.”

We stepped into the meadow. In the moonlight, the grasses and flowers swayed and bent with the rippling wind throwing water and dirt at us as we waded through. Rain beat down, and the noise drowned out his answer.

Simon stopped me, his hands on my shoulders.

Drenched in the storm, I shivered in his grasp.

“She didn’t see her mother fall, Rosetta,” he said again, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sure of it.”

Remembering Nalla’s anger, I tried to read his face in the flashlight’s beam, but it was hidden with the shadows.

It wasn’t an accident. Nalla believed that.

“How are you sure, Simon? Were you there?”

A groan broke from him, and he pushed me away, striding ahead in the flowers.

I stood watching him swallowed by the night, and a tremor of fear shook me.

He hadn’t said no.

I moved to follow him when a light caught my eye. At the edge of the meadow, flickering through the trees, a light floated above the ground. A spike of adrenaline shot through me.

“Simon, there,” I called. Silence met me, and I panned my flashlight in the direction he’d gone. He wasn’t there. “Where are you?”

Afraid to lose it, I took off towards the light. My flashlight beam slashed through the night as I ran. Closer now, I could see the glow through the trees on the other side of the field. Rain and wind whipped into my face, obscuring my vision, but it was there, a hundred yards away. I took a step forward, my heart racing.

A blast rang over me, the sound of a rifle, and I screamed, whirling in a circle trying to see where it came from. To my right, the light moved, faster now, away from me.

Lavender’s terrified face flashed before me, and I gritted my teeth. She wouldn’t do this alone. She wouldn’t be scared and helpless. Not if I could help it. Fear shuddered through me, and I clenched my eyes shut.

Courage, Lord. Walk with me.

Frantically looking for Simon, I heard my name in the wind. A low call from the edge of darkness. I took a breath and ran towards the light.

18

The wind died as I ran into the tree line. A fog, thick and churning, moved between the trunks, and I slowed to keep from falling. It engulfed me, muting my beam’s light, and I stumbled, disoriented. The light glowed ahead, a few feet, the mist casting a halo around it. I squinted through the fog trying to make it out, the rain thrumming down around my feet.

A voice in the woods, low and plaintive, cried out. The anguish in the wail squeezed my chest with fear. Something moved and the light dimmed, the glow almost going out. Afraid of losing it, I rushed forward, my flashlight coming up. I gasped, not believing.

A figure floated in the fog several yards away. Ethereal, flowing in white material, the apparition slid across my vision illuminated from within the eerie light. I quaked. I staggered back, a scream ripping from my lips as I went down. I lost my flashlight. It skittered along the ground and went out. The night surrounded me, the ghostly figure ahead the only light.

“This can’t be.” I panted, struggling to see through the mist. “This isn’t real.”

Another rifle crack. The apparition jerked out of sight and the glow blinked off, leaving me in complete darkness. Crawling backwards, I pawed at the ground, frantic for the flashlight. My breath came in gasps. I slipped and slid in the mud trying to get to my feet. Deep wailing warbled through the fog, and I froze. What was happening?

“Rosetta,” Simon’s voice echoed through the forest. He was close.

“Simon—”

The figure emerged from the fog, pale in the moonlight as it fluttered, moving towards me at great speed. A scream caught in my throat, and I could only stare as it rushed past me.

“Where are you?” Simon shouted. His flashlight skimmed the trunks just above, missing me.

Mist floated lazily across my face as I stared after the pale specter. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. I stood there in the drizzle, water and mud swirling around me.

“Rosetta,” Simon called, his voice near panic. “Please tell me where you are.”

“I’m here,” I answered, breaking from shock. “Over here.”

His flashlight slid across my body, and I saw his silhouette a few yards off. He ran to me, scooped me into his arms, and held me close.

“I thought—” His voice broke. “What happened?”

“I—I don’t know.” Clutching his coat, I buried my face in his chest and cried.

****

I cleaned up in my bathroom. The lights flickered once when the wind picked up, and my heart raced with worry, but they didn’t go out. I struggled to control the fear and confusion banging together in my head.

Simon waited in my room, seated on a chair by the desk. He smiled when I opened the door, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked and put his hand out.

I took it and nodded.

He led me to the chest at the foot of the bed, and I sat, curling my legs under me.

“How’s Lavender?”

“She’s asleep. I checked on her while you were in the shower. She nodded off in the library, and I put her to bed. I pushed her dresser in front of the terrace doors. I’ll have O’Shay install a lock up high tomorrow.”

I nodded, listening. He’d made a fire in the room, and the warmth of it made me feel safe. I watched the flames, not talking. I didn’t know what to say, really. How could I explain something I didn’t understand?

Simon moved from the chair and knelt on the floor in front of me. His golden hair, still damp from the drizzle, was highlighted by the firelight. He took my hands in his, caressed the knuckles with his thumbs as he caught my gaze.