Chapter 27

27

Farryn

In the mirror’s reflection, I studied the long-sleeved, cross-embroidered Victorian dress with the big black bow at its collar. The most ridiculous thing I’d ever worn, but at least it overshadowed the yellowing bruises and healing cuts from my fall.

I made my way down the hall to the staircase, straightening the wrinkles of my dress. As I passed a small alcove, cool air breezed my cheek, and I paused to find the window within left open. Dark already. Strange, the way days seemed so short here, even more so than during the winters in Chicago. It seemed there were only a few hours of actual daylight from the time I’d awakened.

Something black swooped past outside. With careful steps, I approached the opened window, and found a shadowy figure sat on the roof, the white curl of cigarette smoke drifting upward into the night sky. Van Croix stared out over the vast landscape that stretched for miles, lit only by the silvery moon overhead.

Urgency pummeled through me, to steal the opportunity and ask him about my father, and why it was so important that I seek him out. But, after having already spied on him once this afternoon, I turned to leave, pausing when he spoke.

“It’s unusual, you know.”

Embarrassment skated through me on having been discovered, but I cleared my throat and turned back toward the window. “What’s that?”

“A few things. The moon. The quiet.” He stamped his cigarette out onto the gritty surface of the roof with a well-polished shoe. “The way my dogs took to you this afternoon.”

“It was strange for me, as well. Why the moon?”

“Three weeks from now marks the fifth blood moon.” The deep calm of his voice wound itself around my senses. Such an oddly pleasant sound that captivated me.

I recalled the note in my father’s journal. “Fifth blood moon? Is there such a thing?”

“It’s an incredibly rare event that happens once every couple of millennia. Some believe this year’s marks the beginning of the end.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what do you believe?”

“I believe the end doesn’t have a beginning.”

The finite nature of his words matched the melancholy in his tone. In the short time since having arrived, I’d already gotten the impression that there was more to Van Croix than his surly exterior implied. I imagined his mind never ceased, his thoughts constantly churning, even in times so benign as staring out at the moon.

Something hopped along the roof alongside him, and it was then that I noticed the raven, seemingly comfortable in his presence. Van Croix tossed something out off the roof, and the raven took flight, swooping to catch it from the air. As the bird zipped past the window, I flinched backward, nearly missing where it deposited the object on the sill in front of me.

The locket of my father.

On instinct, I touched where it should’ve lain against my chest, surprised that I hadn’t noticed its absence. With a frown, I turned back to the bird who’d taken to the skies, flying overhead. How strange to see a wild bird retrieve something that way.

“Seems you dropped it this afternoon in all that ruckus with the dogs.”

I lifted it from the sill and opened the locket, to be sure the picture hadn’t fallen out. “Thank you.” With a slight smile, I looked up to find him staring back at me.

“Your father.” It wasn’t a question, which seemed to be a trait of Van Croix’s--quietly observant.

“Yes. Do you recognize him, at all?”

At that, he averted his gaze from mine, twisting back toward the view and pinging my suspicion. “Should I?”

While I’d hoped to be a bit more formal in our meeting, right then was as good a time as any. “He … mentioned you to me. I suspect he thought you might have insight into a group called the Pentacrux.” I caught the subtle shift of his jaw. The rubbing of his hands.

“Did he now?”

I brushed my thumb over the fabric of my sleeve which hid my birthmark. Not that I’d have shown him and risked looking as nutty as my father had always sounded talking about it. “Yes, he told me that--”

“Miss Ravenshaw, might I advise that, if you wish to remain here, you not waste my time with things that do not concern me. I do not care about the Pentacrux, nor whatever stories with which your father regaled you. I’m already wary of your intent, and it would benefit you greatly not to rouse more suspicion.”

“I can assure you, my intent is not malicious. I just thought you might be able to shed some light on this group.”

“I’ve no information for you.” Yet, in spite of his stoic expression, in a single glance, that one blue eye of his held a thousand secrets.

Something told me, in the way he skirted around my first question, that he did, in fact, know my father. I could’ve told him about the page in my father’s journal—the fear that he’d apparently unearthed something dangerous. The murders. Where I really came from, and how I arrived in Nightshade. But doing so might’ve only inflamed his suspicions of me. So long as I continued the charade of being his dogs’ caretaker, perhaps I could gain his trust. The element of time certainly wasn’t in my favor, unless I’d planned to forget my existing life on the other side, so I’d have to be savvy.

I’d have to appeal to him on a different level. Perhaps employ some feminine charm, assuming he wasn’t completely immune to it.

Ugh.

The very thought terrified me. I’d never been proficient in gaining a man’s attention that way. In fact, I was downright awkward about it. And how did a girl go about charming a man rumored to be Death, anyway?

Unsure of how to respond to him, I kept silent on that, and attempted to fasten the necklace that refused to latch as easily as before. I pulled it away to find the fastener slightly bent.

With a bored sigh, Van Croix leaned to the side. “Turn.”

I did as instructed, propping myself against the windowsill, so he wouldn’t have to reach in to lift the necklace from the nape of my neck.

“Lean back,” he commanded in a hushed voice.

A quick glance over my shoulder showed the steep slant of the roof and the drop to the cement below that would’ve surely left every bone broken if I slipped. Breathing through my nose, I closed my eyes and leaned back through the window, fingers clutching the sill so hard, my nails burned.

“You’re afraid of heights.” Again, not a question.

Swallowing hard, I only nodded, not entirely comfortable with sharing my deepest fear with the man.

Heated fingers brushed across my skin, distracting me from my anxiety, and only then was I reminded that it’d been a long time since a man had come in such close contact to me. Having kept myself guarded for so many years had left me absent of any human touch, really. My deprivation of it had turned into something of a phantom limb, with the memory of my last encounter still pulsing beneath my skin.?Warmth blossomed inside of me, a strange and inexplicable calm.

I bit my lip to stifle a shiver, his touch stirring curious thoughts. Like what the glide of his roaming palm would feel like.

Before I could venture too deeply into those fantasies, he released the necklace that fell cold against the back of my neck.

“Thank you,” I said a second time.

With no further response, he turned back to face the moon, resting his elbows onto his knees, as before, and I caught the slight flex of his fingers.

From having touched me?

It was when he crinkled his nose that a creeping paranoia about my scent hit me all over again. Not the most charming man.

Though something about him, as aloof as he seemed, struck me as somber and forlorn, and I wanted to ask him what troubled a man like him. An introspective man of few words. So many questions beckoned me to stay and risk his irritation with my probing.

Instead, I kept on toward dinner, tucking my necklace into the front of my dress.

Aurelia sat at the far end of the long dining table, waving me over, and I smiled with relief. Her presence and company were very much welcomed, particularly after having met much of the staff, who seemed to think of me as more of a nuisance, or some kind of omen.

“What a relief. I thought I’d be dining alone,” I said, taking a seat beside her.

“Absolutely not. No one should dine alone!”

“Aurelia … do I smell … strange to you, at all?”

She leaned in close and sniffed. With a shrug, she shook her head. “I do not notice anything foul, if that is what you are asking.”

“Yes, thank you. Just a little paranoid after working with the dogs.”

“You certainly don’t smell like those mongrels.”

The food arrived on gorgeous white China platters with black rose accents, served by one of the women I recognized from the kitchen earlier. Appetizers arrived, escargot in garlic and parsley butter, followed by what I guessed to be roasted duck in a red fruit sauce and the most delicious wine I’d ever tasted. The fanciest dinner I’d ever been served. I just hoped the kitchen staff didn’t spit in it.

“It’s so nice to have someone to eat with,” Aurelia said beside me on a chuckle, before taking a sip of her wine.

“You ate alone before?”

Swallowing the wine, she nodded, resting her hand against her belly. “Just me and little Miriam.”

I wanted to ask how she knew it was a girl, but kept the thought to myself. “Are the dinners always so fancy?”

“Yes. Exceptionally better than the last place I stayed.”

“Strange that they don’t join us for dinner.”

She shrugged, shoveling in a mouthful of duck. “They’re not big eaters. That’s why they’re so skinny,” she said around the food stuffed in her cheeks. “Have you met everyone?”

“I think so. Only one whose name I didn’t catch was a blond man.”

“Remy. He’s Master Van Croix’s righthand man.”

“He’s a strange one, isn’t he?”

Cheeks flushing, she smiled and glanced away. “To be honest, I find him quite handsome.” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “I saw him without clothing once. Standing at the cliff’s edge. Bare muscled backside. Impressive, I must admit.” Her hands flew to her mouth, trapping a giggle. “I’ll surely have to repent for spying on him.”

Once again reminded of my own spying of Van Croix, I shifted in my seat. The conversation had suddenly taken an uncomfortable turn. I wasn’t accustomed to gossiping with women about men, particularly naked ones.

“What was he doing at the cliff’s edge?”

“Diving. Bit of a daredevil, that one. I’ve seen him dive off a few times. Nearly soiled myself the first time. Thought I was witnessing a suicide, until I watched him emerge from the water below like it was nothing. The men are a little odd here, in case you didn’t happen to notice. Master Van Croix hangs out on the roof and in the bell tower. Incredibly bold, given how dangerous it is there. Some have died in the bell tower, you know.” Her brow flickered, as if she might’ve known someone who had.

“I have a bit of a fear of lightning in general.” It wasn’t only my mother’s death that inspired it. Ever since I was little, I’d always felt like the lightning was searching for me, out to get me, the way it flashed around my bedroom window on stormy nights.

“Well, you certainly want to stay away from the bell tower, then. Not just for the lightning, either. Some of the girls talk about … things,with regard to Master Van Croix.” Brows lifted, she pursed her lips, and I knew more gossip would follow.

So intent on learning more about him, I didn’t even care that I was partaking in his rumors like a fiend. I couldn’t say why, but everything about the man intrigued me. The more I came to learn about him, the more I wanted to know. “What things?”

“Very depraved acts. Unnatural.” She seemed to shift with unease. “The very thought of what he does to some of the girls terrifies me.”

“Does he hurt them?”

“Well, they do not speak of injury, so much as the fear. Some of the women here, I believe, are glutton for that sort of thing, you know. Of course, I wouldn’t personally know anything about it. He’s never invited me up there.” Her hand fell against her belly again, as she shoved another bite of food into her mouth. “People tend to think that just because you’re pregnant, you’re not interested in lying with a man anymore.” It was strange, the way she spoke sometimes, as if choosing to avoid certain words, like sex, for example.

Figuring a change of subject was in order, I asked, “So, what are these pipes that supposedly rattle at night?”

“It isn’t the pipes, it’s the bell. You’ve not heard it yet? Oh, it makes such a racket sometimes, I can hardly sleep!”

“I was under the impression it was something in the walls.”

“No. Trust me, it is the bell. I sleep just below it, so I hear it quite clearly.”

“You sleep there? Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Oh, it isn’t in the actual tower of the bell. There’s an undercroft below it.”

Where Anya had told me not to go. Odd that Aurelia would sleep there.

“Could be rats running amuck,” Aurelia prattled on, “But I’ve not seen a single rodent in this place. I suppose part of that is the dogs and Cicatrix, though.”

“Cicatrix?”

“The raven. It’s Master Van Croix’s pet. Supposedly, he talks, but I have never heard him.”

“The bird, or Van Croix.”

Aurelia chuckled again, knocking her arm against mine. “The bird, silly. So, how did you do it, anyway? Taming those dogs?”

“I don’t know. Guess they just didn’t consider me much of a threat?”

“They terrify me. I have always been afraid of dogs. Got bitten when I was young. They say that kind of trauma lives with you forever, when it happens so young.”

Her words incited a flash of violent water and a sharp burn in my nose, and I flinched the visual away. The spike of adrenaline left a cold sensation in my chest, compelling me to take a deep breath.

“Farryn? Are you all right?”

I blinked out of it, and turned to find her brows winged up expectantly. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if you plan on eating your dinner. You haven’t touched it ,at all.”

“Oh.” A quick glance showed my silverware sat unused beside a fully-intact roasted duck. “I guess I’m not that hungry.”

“I’ll eat it, if you don’t want it.”

Pushing the plate toward her, I smiled and nodded. Part of me wanted to sneak away to the library I’d seen earlier on the tour. Another part didn’t want to leave her to eat alone. An unsettling feeling weighed heavy on me at the thought that, when I’d leave and return back to my own life, she’d still be there. Eating dinner alone. For how long? How long did souls persist in this place before getting sent off to their next destination.

I sat quietly as she chattered on about her day of chores, and when she finished up the remains of my dinner, we parted ways for bed.