Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

C harlie was having so much fun. Getting to explore the palace gardens was a treat she hadn’t expected. Edwin was a delight to talk to, and so informative. And if Max looked like he had a small black cloud hovering over his head, well, was that such a bad thing?

Was he just a little bit jealous of Edwin’s attentiveness?

The thought made a small hum of satisfaction settle inside her. The idea of her aloof professor experiencing the green-eyed monster was quite pleasant to contemplate.

Now, as they followed the mothman through the side door and into the palace itself, Edwin explained, “Sadly, I can’t take you into the formal areas. That section of the palace is strictly off limits after a home invasion last year. A werecat. Not good news, obviously, for us Mothfolk.” Edwin pursed his lips. “Thus, security is extra tight at present.”

“It’s very generous of the family to still host the Christmas Pageant in light of that,” Max said.

“Only a small portion of the gardens will be accessible to the public, and I can tell you, Tower Security and their team of gargoyles will be working overtime to ensure there are no breaches.”

They walked down corridors decorated in delicate filigree wallpaper hung with portraits of the royal mothfolk, and finally reached a hallway with three elevators. At a desk, a gargoyle sat scanning a bank of screens. He nodded, without smiling. Edwin introduced them and the gargoyle gave them both key passes. “For the elevator,” he explained. “This will take you down to the basement. Hold up your pass to the control panel to come up again.”

When they reached the basement, Charlie gasped at the expansive area before her. Soft lighting illuminated engraved columns that supported the heavy Malibar stone ceiling, and the walls were lined with bookshelves. On the flagstone floors were carefully arranged glass cabinets, lit from inside and filled with artefacts.

“This is a museum,” Max murmured as Edwin showed them around.

“Yes, that’s how it has been set up. The plan has always been to open the archives to public viewing at some stage in the future,” Edwin explained. “When Motham City reaches a level of lawfulness that ensures these antiquities are safe to be on show. The Motham family hope that will be within the next decade…” He smiled at Max. “That is why the Mothams are happy to welcome you here to research your next book. They feel it will be a forerunner to opening the Motham Family Museum for all to visit.”

“Wow,” Max said. “I now feel a huge responsibility to get this right.”

“We have no doubt you will,” Edwin said. “Your last book on The Great War was meticulously researched, and a masterpiece of historical accuracy.”

Charlie couldn’t help adding, “It’s the premier text for our course. Everyone’s read it. It was what prompted my master’s project.”

“And what was that about, may I ask?” Edwin turned his gray gaze on her, full of interest.

She felt her cheeks heating slightly, sensing Max staring at her. “I researched the history of monster/human romantic liaisons before and after The Great War. Mate bonds, erm, ruts and the like… from a feminist perspective, actually…” Her voice trailed off and she feigned a deep interest in a cabinet full of early Motham pottery.

“How fascinating,” Edwin said. Charlie noticed Max’s shoulders stiffen. Was it because she’d said the word “rut”?

Max cleared his throat. “Perhaps you could show us to Athelrose’s diaries first. I must admit to being overcome with curiosity.”

“Certainly,” Edwin said. “This way.”

Charlie found herself trotting alongside the two men, through the vast basement, until finally they reached a heavy engraved wooden door, which Edwin opened. In the center of the small room was a cabinet set on a thick red pile carpet. The cabinet was made of ornate carved wood—maple, she’d hazard a guess. She couldn’t help thinking how much her dad would admire the work involved in this piece. It was exquisitely carved, with a bevy of creatures surrounding a mothman, obviously Athelrose himself. His wings were spread wide, encompassing them all in a gesture that was both touching and grand.

“It's so beautiful,” she breathed.

“It is.” She heard the awe in Max’s voice.

“The diaries of Athelrose are kept in this cabinet,” Edwin said. He brought out a set of keys from his belt and unlocked the cabinet. A soft light filled the interior as the doors opened, and there on the cushioned velvet lay three leather-bound books.

In the quiet of the room, Charlie heard Max’s awed inhalation.

“I am afraid you cannot touch the originals, as the pages might crumble, but it has all been photographed—the copies are in the shelves behind. There is also the diary of his beloved wife Amelia, which gives incredible insights into the early days of Motham from a human’s perspective. Athelrose and Amelia’s diaries are strictly to be viewed here, but copies of the other texts can be borrowed. Just make a note of the serial number and we can courier them to your residence to work on in the privacy of your home.”

“Truly, that would be wonderful. Thank you,” Max said.

“Delighted to be of assistance.” Edwin clasped his hands and smiled at both of them. “I can tell you’re itching go get down to business.”

Edwin assured them he’d check back in the afternoon, then left. Charlie watched his departing figure, his shiny shoes clicking on the stone floor.

From the elevator, he gave them a wave before the doors closed and he was gone.

Leaving her alone with Max in the basement.

The whole day stretching ahead of them.